able-bodied cis black girl from the future. 28, bi, former computer science/media studies major. food enthusiast, avid fanfic reader/watcher of tv and film. 18+ and occasionally nsfw. inconsistent tagger, but i'm working on it. if i get things wrong please let me know.
We looked inside some of the posts by indarkdirected and here's what we found interesting.
Weird peeve time. Calling lab grown gemstones "fake" is stupid because it's the same shit just not formed naturally. An artificially grown diamond is the same shit as a natural diamond it is the exact same material bro it's all fuckign carbon
I still want to write the fic where an outsider has all these preconceptions about what the Force is and then goes into a room with a bunch of Jedi who are tearing into each other like bitchy old academics.
“Ooh, look at Master Structuralist over here with his ever-so-deep ‘everything is attachment actually’ reading”
“I don’t want to hear that from someone who calls every new opinion ‘new depths of their relationship with the Force’”
“The Jedi Order is a social construct–”
“Could you stuff the po-mo and pick up a book once in a while? These aren’t new ideas! You are not a pioneer because you asked one question!”
“I think you could all benefit on more reflection on how our rooting in the Force is actually deeply sexual–”
“If I have to hear one more word about lightsabers being penis envy you are going to be one with the Force immediately.”
A sleight-of-hand magician routine that's also a stand-up comedy set about ADHD. Like I'm just there complaining about how I always lose or forget stuff, I change subject as I lose your track of thought, then suddenly remember that I was holding a fan in my hand and -
Where the FUCK did it go??
I ask the audience if they saw where it went. Not in my sleeve, there's just a handkerchief there. Nothing in my pockets. FUck, I don't even have any pockets. No, wait, was it in the - [a dove emerges from an improbable place] aw fuck I forgot to return that to the vet.
Now distracted by tugging a comical length of handkerchiefs out of my sleeve, I'll start telling the story of why, exactly, I was borrowing a pigeon from a vet in the first place. The story, which is lengthy, still doesn't go on as long as the string of handkerchiefs.
Apparently tumblr changed its tagging system so yes all your tags will now show up in searches rather than just the first 5 but they also fucked up a little because they made it work like a partial search as well now, meaning if you make a single tag called “star wars spoilers” the post will show up in searches for just the term “star wars” or just the words star, wars, war, spoiler or spoilers.
I just want my OTP to derrive meaning from each other in a way that would be incredibly unhealthy and codependent if two people did that in real life but is profoundly poetic and romantic within the context of a fictional piece of media in consuming.
I’ve said this before but I think all sci-fi and fantasy adventure needs a little bit of horror as seasoning. It doesn’t need to be full sci-fi horror or fantasy horror but a little bit of scary adds flavor. Build a world and then explore the fucked up implications of that world a little bit
I do NOT have the cultural knowledge to write this alone BUT I’ve always wanted to start a TV show about a group of ghost hunters who specifically have one person from each major religious background so that literally all of their bases are covered no matter what kind of fucked up supernatural being shows up… like one is the like teen son of a Catholic priest and one is a girl whose dad is a rabbi, one of them is pagan, one of them is Muslim, one of them is an atheist/agnostic who specifically tags along to deal with the weird eldritch gray area shit that the rest of them don’t cover, it’s just a big ensemble cast of meddling kids and maybe a dog who is some kind of Entity
“I read the poem of a student and in the poem God wandered through a room picking up random objects – a pear, a vase, a shoe – and in bewilderment said, ‘I made this?’. Apparently God had forgotten making anything at all. I awarded this poem a prize, because I was a judge of such matters. I was not really awarding the student, I was awarding God; I knew someday the student would pick up his old poem and say in bewilderment, ‘I made this?’, and at that moment his whole world would be lost in the twilight, and when you are finally lost in the twilight you can not judge anything.”
“humanity is inherently selfish and bad” bbbrrrghuhjfkg. humanity is seeing a stranger’s grocery bag break open on the sidewalk and harvesting fruits and veggies from the branch-like cracks of the asphalt for them, just because you can. humanity is helping a lost child find their mother on a crowded beach, looking for the ladybug-patterned parasol with their hummingbird-small hand in yours. it’s an elder’s fingers wrapped around your arm as you help them up the stairs because the elevator is broken, and feeling like you’re doing exactly what you’re supposed to be doing, like this is what you would’ve been doing had you been alive centuries or even millennia ago. there will always be a heavily pregnant woman who will smile at your when you give up your seat, a nice blind man in the fruit aisle who will ask you to please pick the riper plantain for him, a tired cashier whose face will light up when you compliment their tattoo sleeve. humanity is connection