Fortune

posted by request of mx maryblackwood once again

While other projects have got my head scattered all over the joint, I was made aware that it was Goblin Week last week.

I only figured it out on Wednesday night/Thursday morning, and not long into it I had a thought:

I’ll make my own dang Goblin Week.

So from that night to… well, now, I’ve been working on making a game of various flavors of goblin joining forces to inflict cosmic levels of Frustration on as many bigfolk as they can put into their sights.

It’s pay-what-you-want because I’ve only had a week to make it and a decent amount of that was backtracking and putting together playbook sheets and junk on top of the actual design.

Give it a go!

Or don’t!  I don’t run your life!

Special recognition to @blackberries-and-arsenic , who long ago threw gasoline on the goblin fire in one of the chambers in the shriveled organ doctors assure me is still my heart.

One time I tried to listen to a true crime podcast (I've never denied being an edgelord with a fascination for macabre shit) but I tapped out halfway through the first episode b/c the people on the serial killer podcast started talking about how being a goth is a sign that someone is probably a serial killer

"An unnatural interest in darkness and evil" Motherfucker that's what your podcast is

Once I listened to a podcast where they claimed that the juvenile murderer’s obsession with killing off her Sims in various ways was a warning flag and I’m like...that’s just how you play Sims.

ran into another person w a “shakespeare is pretentious” take n i’m pissin... ma’am yep yep the language is archaic but shakespeare is not pretentious and his plays are not pretentious... they are about idiots doing idiot things, i promise

Memento Mori, 18th century

not writing, not not writing, but a secret third thing

letting my stories spin around my head like a microwave

forehead pressed to the glass, just waiting for the ding!

i know i’m getting old bc i feel a need to warn young girls not to do stuff

THE LION IN WINTER (1968) dir. Anthony Harvey

the personification of death being portrayed as deeply kind in fiction is something that reduces me to tears every single time

Garden of Death by Hugo Simberg is one of my favorite pieces of art for that very reason.

Life is a garden and Death is the caring gardener

the GRINCH X TONY THE TIGER Fanfic is live on ao3! hope this causes you all tremendous distress 😘

monthly subscribers can skip ahead to the next chapter

actual real things about this fic:

I am sending this to all my friends gaud.

there are over 300 comments on the fic so far, and i’m reading all of them, and i have to say my favorite comments on the ones where people are sharing this with family and friends. sometimes out of spite, sometimes earnestly. 

thank you for spreading me around like the invasive fungus i so truly am

I submitted it to my english teacher (our assignment was to find a well written work to share on the internet)

…I am absolutely frothing at the mouth to know your teacher’s response please

this is it

this was beyond my wildest dreams actually much thanks

UPDATE:

i am having the BEST month

I’m dying I was not prepared for this

hey I just wanted to mention the fact that this was a catholic school. just in case this wasn’t wild enough already. the disciplinary officer was a fucking nun

i am now feral. i have gone feral. i am leaning a little pile of stick again a tree, soon i will nap beneath them, they will collapse on me during the next rainstorm

I’m sorry.  Getting a nun to read THE Tony the Tiger x Grinch Fanfic is the best thing ever.  This person wins at life.  Game over.  We have all lost to the person who got a nun to read that fic.

A NUN WAS FORCED TO READ MY CRACK FIC I AM A BROKEN BEING

Thirty seconds ago I was laughing so hard, breathing was a challenge. Now I just can’t stop grinning, which is progress.

Sent to disciplinary without even reading it first?

They were really having nun of it, huh?

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

Happy Grinch Day!

NEW CHAPTER’S UP

In Conclusion:

I am appalled to report that the priest who blessed this fanfic died not long after. He was apparently very very old and I am not responsible, this fic is not haunted and does not cause the death of anyone who attempts to perform exorcisms against unholy demons contained within, and that is my legal stance if anyone was wondering.

ANYWAY. NEW CHAPTER!

We Have Always Lived in the Castle (1962), by Shirley Jackson. Artwork by William Teason

Schock (1977), directed by Mario Bava. Artist unknown, but visibly “inspired” by Teason

I GOT A FUCKING RAISE THE POTATO WORKED WTF

This potato works. Every. Fucking. Time.

I would enjoy some good luck from the potato.

I need some luck right now, so all hail the Lucky Potato. Do your magic, Potato. I respect you so much I am capitalizing the "P" in Potato.

To the hesitant: I was a doubter too until I got an unexpected Christmas bonus from work.  Believe in the potato. The potato believes in you.

Pictures from another visit to North Bennington, Vermont, home of the late great Shirley Jackson. You can see pictures from a previous visit here.

"My name is Mary Katherine Blackwood. I am eighteen years old, and I live with my sister Constance. I have often thought that with any luck at all, I could have been born a werewolf, because the two middle fingers on both my hands are the same length, but I have had to be content with what I had. I dislike washing myself, and dogs, and noise. I like my sister Constance, and Richard Plantagenet, and Amanita phalloides, the death-cup mushroom. Everyone else in our family is dead."

Shirley Jackson, We Have Always Lived in The Castle