Silence Dreams in Endless Song

Catholic, asexual, RandomReader13 on AO3.

[bluemuffin-draws]

Ambush hunters

Part 3 of the comic

||Part 2 ||

[fiollaigean]

how to cover letter:

polite greeting (it's me, boy)

introduction (i'm the ps5)

establish credentials (speaking to you inside your brain)

establish purpose (leave the girl, we don't need her)

describe what you can bring to the organization (cowboy times in space)

[gh0stienj0yer]

i need to get off tumblr i’m at the aquarium admiring the fish and my brain goes “posts that make you want to get in the water” what are you talking about. these are live fish in the room with you. what post.

[gh0stienj0yer]

posts that make you want to get in the water

[foolsocracy]

in the dc universe if you dare to say you want to be more like hal jordan, bruce immediately locks onto your location and hauls you to an intervention. it happened to my buddy arthur

[theawkwardvirgin]

op i love your vision.. in your battok fic you had a comment about having the bats on game changer

Haha thank you! I think the chaos would be glorious but unfortunately I only know the show from YT shorts and posts on here, so I’m not actually familiar enough to write it. Maybe someone else will be inspired though!

[iwannabeaswampwitch]

Lots of drama in our household

[reading-writing-revolution]

[justsomeoneunordinary]

[serregon]

I know we make jokes about the proverbial asexual pervert who has written hundreds of thousands of words of smut on ao3, but also shoutout to the aces who aren’t perverts. to the aces who skip the sex scenes and wince at sex jokes and awkwardly leave the conversation when your friends start talking about sex. your boundaries aren’t childish and fuck anyone who says otherwise.

[schmergo]

The summer between the end of high school and the start of college, I wrote a ridiculous play about pirates and put on a staged reading with some friends at an amphitheatre at a local park before a small audience of friends and family. It was never published or staged again. But I just got a message from an old high school friend I haven’t seen in years. He accidentally quoted the play in a conversation with friends, was asked what he was quoting, he couldn’t remember either, and wracked his brain until he finally remembered it was that silly play reading that we did one day in the park over 10 years ago. It made me happy. (The line was, “Huzzah for mercantilism!” by the way.)

A very tiny percentage of creators go on to be famous, but that doesn’t mean that people don’t remember little things you did for years and years. Who came up with most of the world’s most famous jump rope rhymes? Who coined some of the famous idioms we use in daily speech? Who made up ‘Jingle Bells, Batman Smells?” Somehow, all of these things stuck and spread around.

When I was a small child, I saw a high school put on a production of the musical HONK. In one song, the mother duck describes various dangers that her baby should avoid in the water, including fishing line, which could strangle him. A member of the ensemble played the role of fishing line, doing a maniacal laugh and over-the-top strangling motions, and I found it hilarious– and to this day, that’s an example I often think of when talking about how ensemble members can still stand out in theatre. The guy who played the role might not even remember that he did that, but I do.

I took Suzuki violin lessons as a kid. The teacher made up lyrics to some of the songs, and she let her students make some up, too. Now whenever I hear the instrumental of one of those pieces, I always remember these ridiculous lyrics about a skunk that we sang in violin class. I don’t even know which student invented them!

In middle school, I found a video about atoms parodying Bill Nye made by some kids for a school product. It probably had less than 1,000 views, but I think of quotes from that video all the time. They had a parody of “We Will Rock You” with the chorus, “Protons, neutrons, electrons” that I think about a lot.

I just love that this is part of human life. Our memories don’t just pick up quotes from great art, literature, and music, but little things, too.

[riacte]

do you see this shit my liege

[clearancecreedwatersurvival]

[syn4k]

"lock in" is probably one of the most important phrases to enter the public lexicon in the 2020s

[joyflameball]

[arowitharrows]

The duality of "If you even imply that being aro or ace condemns someone to a sad and lonely life I will fucking fight you"

and

"being aro and ace is the most isolating thing I will ever experience"

[theprideful-deactivated20251201]

i think the tags are important

[myheadisfullofholes]

This.

[ghost-in-a-cup]

Image ID : Tags

The thing is that when other people imply that being aro and ace must condemn someone to a sad and lonely life they are seeing aromanticism and asexuality as the root of the problem.

They think that not having that 'special someone' in your life means it's not worth living. they're showing pity for something they think you're missing out on

When I talk about feelings of isolation caused by being aroace, I'm talking about the way our (western) society is structured about how people drift off into their bubble about how the older you get the less and less time everyone has in their day and how your role as a friend automatically becomes lesser compared to other relationships.

I'm thinking about how certain emotional and physical connections are suddenly reserved for romantic relationships. About the conversations I can't really participate in and I sit there awkwardly knowing they find it weird that I'm not opening up.

I'm thinking about all the times I get hit out of nowhere with a throwaway line reminding me that people think there's something wrong with your soul if you don't love like they do.

That they think a life like yours isn't worth living. That's the kind of isolation I'm thinking about. Not me missing out on having a romantic partner. okay

End ID

[teaboot]

There is a reality not so far from our own in which Ratitouille (2007) was filmed as an avant-garde conceptual horror akin to Eraserhead (1977)

[teaboot]

There is a young American man in France. His mother has passed away. He has few friends, and works the thankless job of a bus boy in a prestigious restaurant, but dreams of becoming a chef despite having very little skill.

He returns one night to his humble apartment, which is known to have vermin, and comes across a rat, which he could easily kill or set loose on the street.

But the rat- it is special. It seems to speak to him. Promises him every little thing he desires- talent, fame, and fortune. Recognition and esteem like he has only ever seen from afar; fine company like the wealthy men and women whose scraps he picks at over the sink.

Put me on your head, the rat says. Put me on your head and think of nothing.

It is strange at first, yes. Strange to feel another take control of his life and live it better than he ever could. To see miraculous things created with his own two hands, to feel his feet move in graceful and fantastic ways with a confidence he has never had.

But the rat delivers as he had promised: he receives promotions, notoriety, admiration. He is noticed. Envied. Every day is a waking dream, rubbing elbows with beautiful women and handsome men and influential personalities who lavish him with praise. It is addictive, this lifestyle- never mind that he is only ever truly conscious of it as a passenger of in own brain.

It is when he has reached heights few can ever conceive, with all that the rat had ever promised- a beautiful wife in a beautiful house with all the world in his palm, in possession of all the wealth and success a man could ever want, that the rat says that it is leaving.

Leaving? The rat cannot leave. Everything he is, the rat has provided.

"I have delivered on our bargain", the rat says. "I have brought to you all that you have ever dreamed. What more could you desire? I must live my own life, now."

The man is furious. He is terrified. He destroys the rat, in all of the ways that a rat can be destroyed, until nothing is left of it but a fine smear of marinara sauce.

He returns to the restaurant the next day moving like the shell of something hollowed-out and brittle. He cooks well- his fingers remember the movements, his eyes recognize the patterns, his mouth knows without his asking what orders to speak and what platitudes make patrons smile pleasantly with their straight white teeth.

He retains the talents of the rat. The charm of the rat. All the worldly pleasures the rat had provided him.

Still, it seems, he is little more than a vessel for the talents of the rat.

But the rat is gone.

What remains of the man?

[teaboot]

You see my vision

[atomikats]

upgrading from the ball

[mevil]

[goodieprocter]

I spent almost an entire work shift drawing this tooth-rotting fluff

featuring the Eridian Welcoming Committee courtesy of @justcakethanks

[justcakethanks]

Okay this is just on another level. I'm not crying IT'S JUST RAINING. ON MY FACE.

[pilley-w]

Nah, don't worry about it