This might seem like an "old man yells at cloud" situation, but it's just wild growing up and being told how dangerous distracted driving is - how, at highway speeds, you can traverse the length of a football field (100 yards, 91 meters) in a matter of seconds - how one split second sending a text while driving could result in a potential fatal crash, and then getting on the road as a driver and being surrounded by billboards. Their entire purpose is to catch one's attention, so they're lining major roads, which tend to be highways. How is it that you're told how important it is to never be distracted while driving, but still being advertised to?
At best, this type of advertising is an eyesore to pedestrians and motorists and a general waste of electricity to light it, and at worst, it is an active danger considering they are there to advertise and therefore, must catch people's attention.
I'm not even against advertising in theory, but this particular mode bothers me so much and I hate how pervasive it is - especially in large cities or highways.
he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.
except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?
at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.
except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.
about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.
he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.
Been thinking about how Donnie and Leo’s insecurities juxtapose each other.
Donnie is insecure about his place in the family, but confident in who he is outside of it.
Leo is secure about being a part of the family, but thinks he’s nothing outside of it.
I think it’s a very interesting comparison that reflects their respective personalities, Donnie’s “Will all I have to offer be enough?” versus Leo’s “Do I even have anything else to offer?”
Have I not made it clear enough what I think of the Israeli government? Have I not made it clear enough that what infuriates me the MOST about all of this shit going on is that neither government gives a damn and civilians will CONTINUE to die because Hamas and Netanyahu are cranking that war machine for their own benefit? Have I not made it clear that I think what the Israeli government is doing is fucking horrific, a war crime, murder, a violation of human rights?
Why do I even need to MAKE that clear? Why is it that you can talk about LITERALLY anything else, any other country, and people don't rush to fucking accuse you of personally supporting the government when you discuss the wrongs committed against a people, but the SECOND you're a Jew you have to justify your stance about Israel?
Why is it that I cannot even be angry about the slaughter of MY FUCKING PEOPLE. Innocents. Civilians. Fucking CHILDREN. The slaughter of the Palestinian people. Innocents. Civilians. FUCKING CHILDREN.
Without one of you absolute fucking monsters deciding to slap some shit on an unrelated post about how "uwu op defends an apartheid state just ignore that"? Do you have to make it part of EVERYTHING I do? Do you consider everything I put out there tainted somehow because I don't support your joy, your cheering, your unrestrained GLEE at the murder of Jews? Do I need to publish a fucking thesis on my stance on Israel, Palestine, and their respective governments like a fucking disclaimer any time I want to talk about myself, my oppression, my experience as a Jew, or a disabled person, or a queer person, because you fuckers cannot for five seconds be NORMAL about Jews?
To decide to slap something about Israel and Palestine on a post I made about MY oppression, about how people will oppress you no matter who you actually are- it all depends who they think you are. It's a bit ironic, isn't it? Doesn't QUITE fit, but it's funny that someone would read that post, agree with it, and then think "Ah yes, THIS is the place to put some tags about how OP, a Jew who has been reeling for the last couple of weeks about the violence, who has been checking on their Israeli friends every day to make sure they aren't fucking dead, who is dealing with vicious antisemitism from people who they thought were friends, who watched as the people claiming to be progressive supporters of human rights on this hellsite and others OVERWHELMINGLY reply to the murder of their people with good they deserved it fuck you, is CLEARLY a defender of an apartheid state and that makes them a bad person because something something I don't know what nuance tastes like and I am a bigoted ass."
And here they are! The first three pages of a fan comic, based on @notbecauseofvictories brain altering fic 'A Cornstalk Fiddle'. Read more below if you're interested in where this comic came from and where it’s going :))
I've continuously returned to notbecauseofvictories’s writing over the years— if I ever feel lost in my own story telling when it comes to comics, poems or prose, notbecauseofvictories is one of those authour's whose work always reignites a creative spark in me, and I just wanted to make my own tribute to one of my favourite stories <33
I've had this all visually planned out in the back of my mind for a year now, and finally drafted the storyboards this summer. I can’t promise a timeline of when the next pages will be posted, hopefully over the next few months, but I’m planning on doing this whole scene and it should come to about ten. I hope you guys enjoy them and tell me what you think!
Please do not do this but I just screamed for 30 minutes so here’s what you should know.
Can’t do it continuously for very long, have to stop to breathe (amount of time and breaths it takes to recover depends on how long you hold it)
It is EXHAUSTING. Seriously, if your whumpee has been screaming for more than thirty seconds multiple times, they won’t have ANY energy to fight back against the whumper. My head was hanging down for a bit because I was just so tired. The exhaustion also caused dizziness when I stood up. Also it’s been around five minutes and my throat still hurts super bad.
Oddly, I could still talk, maybe a bit of rasp in my voice but still effectively and fairly easily. (Again, about thirty minutes with tiny breaks)
Seriously when the exhaustion hits, it hits H A R D
Mouth kinda hurts too tbh
Heart beats pretty rapidly during and shortly after
My head hurts
Both hurts and helps to cough
Update an hour later: slightly hurts throat to talk
Fit: Yeah, it's- it's alright. Well, you know– we're glad to have you here Phil, because you take the brunt of the old jokes being the actual oldest. So you're taking one for the team.
Phil: [Snorts] Wait, isn't Pierre older than me?
Antoine: Uh, he might be older than you, but I think the oldest person on the server is Pol, but I don't think he comes very often.
Phil: Yeah, Pol kinda like shows up whenever, yeah. Yeah. Wait– how old's Luzu?
Fit: OH– actually, Luzu might be older, yeah yeah yeah!
Phil: Yeah, Luzu's a family man! Luzu's got like, a kid and sht dude. A whole family man.
Fit: He's got a whole family, I got a pet cactus man, we're in different stages of our lives, you know?
Phil: EXACTLY! [Laughs] Luzu and Pierre are just like, family men of the server.
i get him. i get him so much. i am the eldest kid and this is how i look like. the eyes, the bags under his eyes, the cigarette, yeah yeah that's The Long Suffering Eldest Kid Look™️
BUT WAIT. YOU KNOW WHAT GETS ME HERE?? YOU KNOW WHAT?? HE CHENG WAS GETTING A MASSAGE. HE WAS RELAXING. He probably just finished a whole day of meetings and doing mob boss things and then he gets a fucking call that he’s stupid little brother and his stupid friends have done more stupid things and he has to bail them out AGAIN because Brother Qiu would kill them himself if he doesn’t.
So now here He Cheng is. In his bathrobe. Outside. In the rain. Watching as his stupid brother and his stupid friends climb out of Qiu's carーwhich was actually He Cheng's and which he thinks Qiu probably damaged on purpose just to get back at him foisting He Tian and his friends at him. He Cheng probably didn't even get to finish his massage. He's having the universal Eldest Child experience of something going wrong the second he tries to relax all because his little brother is such a little shit. That cigarette dangling from his mouth is his last life line to sanity.
*Tim and Bernard are laying in bed sleeping, limbs entangled as Bernard sleeps on Tim's chest*
*at 3:47am Bernard is awoken*
Bernard, swatting Tim as he is squinting in the dark: Hey grasshopper? Is that a sleep paralysis demon-
Tim, shifting slightly, eyes still shut, basically sleepy mumbling: you wouldn't be hitting me, you'd be paralyzed
Bernard: then I think someone is stealing clothes from our closet
Tim, running his hand through Bernard's hair so Bernard knows he is listening: don't know why, we are the pits of fashion, they should be stealing from Sophie and Louie's closet, or even Tammy and Lauren's closet
Bernard: is that... Robin?
Tim, wide awake now, swiveling his head towards the closet: WHAT?
Damian, standing there in a Robin outfit looking through their clothes in the closet, gathering a pile on his arm: Your father wants you to call him, Drake
Bernard: Robin works for Bruce? Actually, that's not surprising.
Robin, walking out with a pile of clothes on his arm: I am confiscating these *walks out the door*