Speaking With Myself

(Hadn’t planned to draw this but here we are (*ﾉ∀`*)

It’s not related to the comic (The Missing Scarf) but to a fanfic of mine. It features Mob SF Papyrus, is very self-indulgent, and I just needed to sketch it ahah. 

Got frustrated with the lack of new mob/mafiafell/sf/other aus fics during lockdown so I started writing my own. I only managed to write and translate two chapters tho (´∀`) Another thing on my to-do list

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Skeletober 19 - Selfie. 

 I haven’t got a fire caption, but i know i look lit 

In fact, as I know the whole “Acidic/Basic body” theory is false. The creator of this theory was found guilty of several charges including practicing medicine without a license, and he had to pay $105 million for the settlement. 

So if you express a feeling about your job/working/capitalism on your own social media space that doesn’t please your employers, you’re punished.

Holy fuck

If this happens to you, you should file a complaint with the National Labor Relations Board. Source: http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/jurisprudence/2013/01/complaining_about_your_job_on_facebook_the_national_labor_relations_board.html

145-147. HOME.

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I once received a DM comprised of just that sentence. Nothing else. No constructive criticism or any reason as to why this person clearly agreed with my own view of myself.

For someone who has never told anyone in their real life that they write anything, reading something like this from an anonymous user only solidified in my mind the fact that this person was right.

I’m not a good writer.

After an embarrassing amount of minutes passed, in which I thought about deleting every story I ever posted, I decided to delete the message instead. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean I could delete the feelings it caused or change the fact that I’m not a good writer.

Two weeks went by and I didn’t write anything, let alone post. Then I received a comment on a story I had posted three years prior, one I’d written after a death in our family. The comment read, “Thank you for sharing this heartfelt story. I really needed this. I just lost my mom and this really got me today.”

I stopped thinking about being a good writer after that. I thought instead, “what if I had deleted my stories and that one person three years later hadn’t read it that day?”

Here’s what I realized: no one is a good writer.

Good means to be approved of, but stories aren’t created from approval. They’re built from life experiences, feelings, and emotions Therefore, the impact of anyone’s story isn’t good or bad. It’s a million other things.

Heartfelt.

Sad.

Funny.

Inspiring.

Romantic.

So to all the story writers out there, hold your head up, write what is in your heart, and never doubt that there isn’t at least one person out there that needs to read your story.

So, no.

Stories can be more than than approved of, or morally correct, or skilled, or any other definition of the word good. They are an experience, words from your heart, and whether they be light or dark, “good” or “bad”… They reach the people that they need to, all because you created them truly.

like, stretch's chara ending up in swapfell (fellswap? idk whichever is the red one), and how that'd pan out.

would russ be less of an asshole than red? how would he treat her? how would stretch handle losing his human?

how pissed would he be

Russ is a... different sort of asshole. He’s less violent, and more manipulative. He’s learned to bide his time, in his terror of a universe, watches and listens and calculates from the shadows; when he strikes, it’s with precision. It’s how he stays alive, how he asserts his own form of dominance. People think he knows everything, is everywhere, and kills with a single move, and rightly fear him for it.

It has left him far more alone than he ever intended or wanted, though. His brother is his only real company, besides the “friends” gold can buy, and he’s always been a disappointment in Sans’ eyes, so that’s hardly a comfort. He’s given up on finding his mate, by the time Chara comes to him... but he knows her almost instantaneously. Her scent is impossible to deny, it calls to him in a way he’s been waiting for all his life... her soul is a beacon he could have felt miles away.

She’s his from that moment on, even if she doesn’t know or accept it. She’s resistant, completely devoted to Stretch and her promises to him, but Russ is far more patient than Red ever was. He’s conniving, finding ways to make her question the difference between them... if he’s truly not her mate-to-be... if she’s denying what was meant to be. He twists facts, clouding her mind and tempting her with things Stretch had denied her... until she falls into the palms of his hands, convinced against all reason.

In shorter terms, he would treat her well enough, considering. He houses and feeds her, protects her and provides for her (Sans is away almost constantly, the queen’s right hand, so he doesn’t have to worry for him finding her). The worst of his loneliness and desperation and desire is carefully hidden, until she gives in, and the worst he does is lie and confuse her, to make her accept him. Is it truly better than force, his manipulations and lies? In some ways, perhaps... but the result is the same~ the theft of her, from her true mate, bonded to another, far more selfish and brutal monster.

As for poor Stretch? Pissed isn’t the word for it.

Stretch has never been an angry monster. Even in the worst timelines, his soul is more given to resignation than fury. His fight with Chara, in the one cursed timeline that he was forced to step in her way, was fraught with tears and regrets, a thing he has never truly forgiven himself for. Love drove any form of anger even further from his mind, the peace and plenty of a real, true future with his beloved a boon he had never dared to dream of, much less wish for.

To have her stolen from him, though... to have his light and his hope and his love tarnished, twisted against him until she believes he is this... this pretender, this snake in the grass, is beyond his capacity to handle. The past begs him to grieve... but the righteous lividity of feeling the bastard mark her, feeling him use her and lie to her until she clings to him how she should have only clung to him-

!!!IMPORTANT FOR BLACK US VOTERS!!!

I saw this on Facebook and went to check my registration status, sure it was fine because I voted recently, but I put in the info and it said I’m not registered

No. Just NO.

And I really feel like there are parts of fandom that don’t get or don’t believe this, and I think that’s troubling.  I’ve seen arguments that people shouldn’t have dark fantasies, or that bad impulses in themselves make a bad person.  I’ve seen so much shaming over thoughts.

It isn’t meant to be a social commentary unless you create it to be. 

It isn’t meant to be educational unless you create it to be. 

Sometimes a story can be just that, a story. Entertainment. Nothing more, nothing less.