Why Does My Mom Have To Always Ruin Everything

I just want to take a moment to appreciate that Logan wrote “Full Moon” on the calendar, when it is already printed there.

okay so I’d like to present a new theory

The Yin Yang Theory

Okay so basically we all know what the symbol looks like right?

this pretty rad lookin thing, pretty lit huh?

Anyway Yin Yang doesn’t necessarily represent opposites but two foils that are interdependent, two opposing things that rely on each other to create balance.

Well, the “core” sides and the “dark” sides are very good foils like Patton and Janus are foils and Roman and Remus are foils. (okay stay with me y’all)

well in SVSR, right next to the 07734 number, there’s this

“Thomas = 8”

Which means that there probably is 8 sides! Okay now back to the Yin Yang-

On the white side there’s a black dot and on the black side there’s a white dot-

What if.... the dots represent Virgil and his counterpart.. on opposite sides from where they originally were? Like there’s a dark side in the “light” side and a “light” side on the dark side? If it’s true that means the sides represent more than just parts of Thomas’ personality, they could represent balance! It could also mean that despite their differences they rely and depend on each other!

TL;DR: The Sides represent inner balance and interdependency-

I don’t understand this but twitter is going down the shitter so I’ll have a try

I wrote a new version of the 12 days of Christmas sander sides style for 2018/2019! with like 1% plot

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21653443

If you want to check it out!

So I'm probably not the first to wonder this but... before Roman and Remus split (I'm assuming they split around 2-3 yrs of age since I read that a little before age 2 is when children develop a sense of right and wrong, and around 3 is when people claim their first memory is (and Roman said he could remember a little bit before the split)), did whoever they were rise up (like light sides) or just appear (like dark sides)? Cause the most logical idea is that whoever they were could comfortably do both, right? 

Anyone have any thoughts on this?

once more, with feeling

876 words

it's not exactly the same every time. it's altered by what they went through, and why they’re asking, and how it all ended. but it's always close enough that it may as well be the same. 

100% inspired by this incredible post by @thirdtimed! it had me by a chokehold i had to do something about it

it's not exactly the same every time. it's altered by what they went through, and why they’re asking, and how it all ended. but it's always close enough that it may as well be the same. 

the first time, it was unprecedented. 

blood on his hands, tears in his eyes, we expected it to be over—a failed experiment, one that only he would ever remember to save the others the pain. too much grief wracked his body for him to even choke out the words for a long while, but we waited. it isn't an unusual thing for us to do, to wait.

smearing sand on his sunburned face, he wiped away his tears and said,

"give me another chance."

the second time, we were curious.

shaken and silent, he stared into our face for a long while, as if trying to decipher what in void we were. the crown of crystals were still and a kind of grey that isn’t truly grey, but every colour at once, and his breathing was shallow. the bloodlust drained from his eyes, leaving them as grey as the crown.

we asked, because he would not have thought to answer otherwise. he flinched, and hesitated. 

"i.. can i see them again?"

the third time, it was almost expected.

still smoking from the explosion, she sunk to her knees, sobbing and clutching herself as if she feared literally falling apart. it took a long while for her screams of grief subsided, and longer still for the weeping to fade into sniffing and hiccups. she hadn't looked at us once, as if she didn't know we were there, but we did not wish to interrupt—she was entitled to her unraveling in private.

wiping her eyes, she didn’t bother to compose herself much more. she lifted her face, littered with gashes and scars, and with agony in her voice-

"i want my friends."

the fourth time.. well, it was a little surprising.

a victor had not yet arrived so high on adrenaline and confidence, and the blood that stained even his mouth seemed to be a trophy. the sword had not left his hand, and still dripped with what remained of the last two, the drops vanishing into the abyss below. he was grinning, and this was the most surprising part.

not needing any persuasion or suggestion, he looked us right in the eye—as none had done before, crowing,

"come on, give us another go!"

the fifth time, it wasn't the request that was new.

alone in a field of sunflowers is where we eventually found him, after waiting fruitlessly for his arrival. he startled a little as he realised we were there, but soon calmed at the understanding of what we meant for him. after all, it had been almost a year since he became stranded—and stranded was the word for it. the shawl was still the red and purple of the flowers he had once given to his partner, and we suppose one could say they started this whole chain of events.

setting aside his gardening tools, he smiled almost sadly. perhaps he would miss what had become his prison, despite everything it signified. he sighed,

"i think i’d like a better try at companionship."

the sixth time.. it almost didn’t count.

surprised to have even been considered for a crown, they laughed in delight when the paper version settled on her head, clearly pleased with our creative flair. we were pleased as well—it isn’t often creative flair ends up being a positive part of our abilities.  they looked around, as if deciding whether or not the place was real, and seemingly settled on an answer. we didn’t ask what the answer was. 

adjusting the paper crown, she laughed, clearly finding the whole situation amusing. when we asked, they seemed to be even more surprised.

"i get to choose? well- let's do it again!"

the seventh time, it became amusing. they did know they could choose something else, did they not?

whooping and throwing his arms around in celebration, came the second victor to be genuinely pleased by his victory and subsequent death. he spent a considerable amount of time pretending he was at an awards show, thanking his family, his wife, his best friend and so on. it was refreshing, after all that misery we witnessed at the beginning of the games, to see the tides changing. especially with him; rage used to be his fuel. now it seemed to be love.

grinning up at us, he waited for something. perhaps one of the others had mentioned it, but he did not seem surprised when we asked.

"what do i want? of course i want more!"

the eighth time, we don’t have to even introduce ourselves.

considerably more pleased than he had been the first time, he seems to think that taking his own life was the ultimate show of power against us. of course, we have changed our ways since his game, but he is not to know that. like his predecessor, he too seems amused by the paper crown. 

cracking his knuckles, and stretching his neck, we already know what he’s going to say, but we let him ask it.

"one more time."

im very grateful for the lessons in photography i was taught in stop motion class because just now they made it possible to photograph the stars with my phone in spite of the camera usually not detecting the light of stars because theyre so dim,,,, enjoy these shiny motherfuckers

you can tell a lot about someone based on their phone background. it shows what’s most important to them

happy birthday Logan!!! 💙

People wonder why content creators slow down....

And those same people refuse to acknowledge that though the notes say 1000+ or 2000+ or 3000+?

A 4/5th, 5/6th, 6/7th, etc of those notes?

They’re all likes.

That happening is like looking someone in the eye and going “Look, look at this! Here are so many people who will tell you that you’re talented, but oh, wait? What’s this? Only a fraction of them think it’s good enough for other people to love as well.”

What’s the point of writing content if there is no spreading, reaching branches of that content being shared?

People put out content for three reasons:

They love making it, they want/hope other people to/will love it, and they want it to reach as many people as possible.

But love is sensitive, love is fragile, and it’s so, so, so easy to fall out of love with doing something if it doesn’t get the support it needs.

The next time you wonder why your content creators are slowing down? 

Reblog.

Use tags pertaining to what the post is about WITHIN THE FIRST FIVE of the tags - because not tagging is another way that spread is limited – on this hellsite, unless the thing your searching for is in the tags or in the post itself? Not going to find it.