Do It!!! By The End Though You’ll Wish It Was A Lot Longer Than 15 Minutes… :(

ao3 drafts are great because it’s forcing me to finish the goddamn fic as an unrelenting one-month deadline looms overhead. either I finish editing or I have to redo my tags and summary, also known as a fate worse then death

crabapples - 0/10 - Disgusting!!!

apple varieties ranked by if they would keep the same name in the isat universe (under the assumption that these are "modern" apple varieties named after the color draining wish)

red delicious - 0/10 - there is no way. try again

golden delicious - 4/10 - gold is a metal as well as a color so it's not out of the question but golden delicious apples are very mild that i do not think anybody would associate them with gold as a metal instead of a color

granny smith - 10/10 - in every universe these little bitches are called granny smiths

honeycrisp - 7/10 - they don't really taste honey-ish but on the other hand they don't look honey-ish in color either

jazz - 6/10 - what's jazz about them? but i'm sure the concept exists in vaugarde regardless

cosmic crisp - 10/10 but they give you a headache

pink lady - 0/10 - pink, moving on

fuji - 1/10 - mt fuji does not exist but it gets a point in case there's an apple farmer named fuji out there

opals - 8/10 - opals are a gemstone so it's possible but points are docked because there's nothing visually about opal apples that makes me think about an opal

queen - 10/10 BUT they are renamed after vaugarde's freezing

ambrosia - 4/10 - could be named this but i don't know if isat has the equivalent of a greek pantheon anywhere or if ambrosia as a concept has any specific cultural meaning

crispin - 10/10 - fuck man they sure are

What’s that feeling when you start experiencing *A Media* and you just… know.

Like you just know that the moment you finish it you’re going to consume every piece of content and fanfic vaguely related to the thing.

But you haven’t finished it yet? So you’re just vibrating with the excitement while finishing the thing so you can finally experience more of the thing through other people and let to hyperfixation finally overtake you.

Can't get over the thought of Link accidentally revealing his true feelings to Sidon because he hasn't gotten a hang of his new alien hand, compounded by the heightened emotions of learning Sidon is engaged.

PLEASE let me know if this is anything...

This is a callout post to disorganized and sleepy bitches (me)

Delete those random alarm times from your phone. You aren’t gonna need to reuse that alarm for 2:37pm anytime soon. I promise

Color theory: there are several colors

I have been obsessing about @skippyin's Lost in New York AU. So much so that I made a short 1-hour writing dump about Luigi trying to find and rescue Bowser Junior from Brooklyn. Thought I'd share!

(Definitely not head-cannoning Luigi as Junior's surrogate second parent. Dear god what has the Bowuigi done to me 🥲).

---

Luigi was sweating. It was that cold, clammy sweat that clung to the skin and made him feel sick. Or was that just the sinking feeling in his gut, screaming at him that something was irreparably wrong?

He didn’t have the precious seconds to waste on determining which.

“Junior!” The young koopaling’s name launched from his lips, only to be drowned out by cars rolling down the overpass overhead. It was so loud – too loud. Nothing like the plumber’s peaceful life in the Mushroom Kingdom.

But Luigi came back for a purpose – da Dio he would accomplish it.

“Junior!”

He was going to bring the kid back. Kicking and screaming – most likely – but he’d get Junior out of here and back to his father, regardless of the young prince’s desires. An uncharacteristic confidence had overtaken the plumber. Luigi’s resolve was unshaken as he trekked through his old hometown, scouring the shadows which wrapped the streets in the ephemeral glow of dusk.

Luigi paid no mind to the rickety old apartment complex at the edge of the block, where he and Mario had made many a house call, back in a time when he had called this foreign place home. He didn’t think about the greasy pizza place on the corner where two broke bachelors could find a cheap meal; the old high school a couple streets down hardly registered.

“Junior!” No, the only thought in Luigi’s mind was to find the little koopaling. Find him quickly, before he was lost entirely, disappearing into the big city; find him fast, before anything else could happen.

…

…

…

But by the time he did, it was already too late.

Luigi had nearly passed the alleyway when he heard it. Sniffling. The earnest attempt of a child holding back his tears. The human leaped to attention as his eyes tracked the sound to their source, spotting a figure curled up in a black hoodie.

“Junior!” Luigi scrambled into the alley, to the aid of the young koopaling. The sniveling and shaking body hardly seemed to notice him; bright red eyes bristling with tears as Junior tried to bury his face into his sleeves. Acting on instinct, the plumber reached out to comfort the child, only for Junior to flinch away from him.

Luigi retreated his hand. With a frown etched across his face, he carefully looked over the young prince. He didn’t look injured, per se, but there was certainly plenty of evidence to some sort of scrap: the backpack he was wearing to cover his shell looked battered, with a few spikes poking out from its holes. His yellow shorts were stained with dirt at the knees. And…

…and his signature paintbrush lay, snapped in two, at the koopaling’s feet.

“Aye…” Luigi’s heart shattered in his chest. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of laughter, coming from a group of teenagers. But all the plumber’s focus was on the young child in front of him. “Mio bambino…” Unable to touch the crying koopaling, Luigi’s own vision began to fog.

“Can we just…” Junior spoke between sobs as his little act began to burst. “I don’t like it here,” he cried loudly. Luigi could do nothing but watch as the tears flowed freely down the prince’s face, the koopaling clamping his jaw tight to hold back anymore cries.

There it was.

There was the Brooklyn Luigi remembered.

The city that chewed up and spat out its inhabitants; that made people feel small and powerless. Just because it could. Just because it wanted to.

The Brooklyn Luigi had never wanted to return to.

The Brooklyn Luigi had so desperately wanted to keep Junior safe from.

“Sì mio figlio,” he extended his arms out to the young prince; Junior leaped into the plumber’s embrace as the tears continued to pour. A wet snout smeared against his overalls as Luigi picked up the turtle-shelled child to hold in his arms, hardly noticing the sharp spikes scratching against his wrists through the fabric of the bag.

“Let’s go home.”

haunting the narrative, but like, in a literal sense.

Torturing the author and existing in the spaces between pages. Breaking the forth wall to call them a cuck for trying to kill me.

Is that anything

Really looking forward to some lampshading in Sonic Movie 3 regarding the Wachowski family and their proclivity for adopting strange alien children.

It may’ve taken all of the second movie for Sonic to recognize Tom and Maddie as parental figures, but Tails and Knuckles were speedrunning the found family trope. Hell, they are practically adopted by the blueray bonus scene.

Which begs the question of how long it’ll take them to adopt Shadow in Sonic 3. I’m betting Tom barely lays eyes on this edgy version of his son and is already on the phone with Maddie to discuss living arrangements while she browses online for more kid sized race car beds.

I still find it funny how Team Dark’s G.U.N. base raid is retroactively acknowledged as unnecessary, harmful to trust, etc. which doesn’t make the writing better, it makes it worse. Because you KNEW it made no sense but wrote it anyway. “Need climactic action sequence, f* logic.”