#it only felt right to come back to this cesspool blog to say it

[redhotdoomsdaypreppers]

2023 and we finally got the studio version of tellin' me by fifth harmony... we used to pray for times like these

#better together ep you will always be famous #it only felt right to come back to this cesspool blog to say it #and even though i've moved on i think 5h will always be special to me #once a harmonizer always a harmonizer i fear... #fifth harmony

[digressions21]

The Adam Driver Complex

I’d like to preface this by saying that this isn’t really about Adam Driver, but more of an outpouring of thoughts and feelings towards fame and why so many people want it. I recently graduated university and will soon be starting my first job in the ‘real world’. My job is nothing to do with acting, nor does it have any way of making me rich and famous. This fact has caused me to deep dive into despair over the fact that I am not famous, and probably never will be.

The Adam Driver part of this comes from a Fan Fiction story I read a month ago, after I discovered how amazingly written a selection of stories based around the Star Wars characters ‘Rey’ and ‘Kylo Ren/Ben’ are, of which Driver plays the latter. Fan Fiction can be a bit of a cesspool at times; however, it is a guilty pleasure. Anyway, I read a story where Rey was a clothes designer to the stars, and Kylo Ren/Ben was a famous actor who she designed. I won’t go into detail about the story, but they of course ended up together engaged and happy, after some initial drama. It is not a new formula, and I have read similar stories hundreds of times. However, this story stuck with me. This version of Rey was a relatively normal girl just doing a job she loved – she was not initially rich or famous, just a ‘normal’ person. Upon entering her relationship with the famous actor she became known, and discussed things such as the Oscars with her famous now-fiancé. When I finished the story I felt surprisingly melancholic, so I went on a drive to a park and thought about why I was upset but this story which was good, but perhaps shouldn’t have caused such a reaction in me. I realised that it bummed me out because I would never be that Rey character, I would never meet and fall in love with this character based around Adam Driver, and I would probably never marry him. But why would I? I don’t know Adam Driver, and though I am sure he is lovely, I am confident that he is very happy with his wife and family. So, why am I still bothered?

I realised that it wasn’t some infatuation with Adam Driver that was getting me down – it was the fact that I am not famous enough to have the opportunity to meet a person like him. Of course, one doesn’t need to be famous to meet a famous person, but it definitely makes it easier. Now, I have developed a complex with the actor Adam Driver, through no fault of his own. Whenever I see him online or in a film I am reminded of my inability to have the same opportunities as him or be as famous as him. More annoyingly, whenever I see an actor in a film that he is in, I relate this complex to them and am reminded once more! (For example, Lady Gaga is in the new House of Gucci film – which looks fantastic – however, she stars opposite Driver, and now when I see her it all comes back to me). It is starting to become a little dramatic.

This led me to another question – why would I want to be famous? I have a lovely life surrounded by great friends and family, opportunities related to my passions, and a positive-looking future. Additionally, I value my privacy, something which celebrities often seem bereft of due to the demanding and insidious nature of social media and paparazzi (this word reminded me of Lady Gaga, which reminded me of Driver – it’s hard to escape this cycle). Sure, being rich must be nice, and it must be great to provide for your family easily, but it takes hard work to get there, I’m sure. I’m not a particularly gifted actor, and I don’t really want to make the sacrifices needed to become an Oscar-winning actor either. My career in amateur acting came to a slow end after an unsuccessful audition at a drama school in London. So, if I can make these conclusions, surely this should quell my sudden desire to become famous enough to meet Adam Driver, right?

Wrong. I cannot seem to escape this complex. I find myself trying to think of ways I can become famous on the sly, whilst progressing through my everyday job. Dreams of a famous agent seeing me on the street and stopping me, because I look like the perfect person to cast in some blockbuster movie, and of course they don’t need to audition me – they can already tell I’ll be perfect! However, this sounds like the plot for another Fan Fiction story, which is what got me into this trouble in the first place.

I know that I am not the only person in the world who feels this compulsion to be famous and walk the red carpets but feels like I lack the opportunities (and if I’m being honest, talent) to get there. This reminder does make me feel better, along with the fact that the majority of people in the world are not famous and are very happy. I am reminded of a quote from Rainer Maria Rilke, from the book of hours, which states “Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final”. I hope that one day this feeling will slowly fizzle away, so I can appreciate the accomplishments that I do make in life, even if they probably won’t involve being famous and meeting Adam Driver on the red carpet.

I often remind myself that there are many people who were considered the crème de la crème in terms of fame and reputation one hundred years ago that are probably forgotten now. It is this idea of not being remembered that underlies this entire issue, as of course none of us wants to be forgotten. However, you can be the most famous person on the planet, but that doesn’t mean that you’ll be remembered in three-thousand years’ time (unless you’re somebody like the Greek figure Achilles, who is still discussed in 2021). Homer’s epic the Iliad focuses heavily on this concept, that the names of men “fall likes leaves”, and the downfall of many heroes within the story is that they care too much about their kleos – their glory and reputation. The fact that this poem discusses a topic which bothers people thousands of years later makes me feel good – our feelings of insignificance are not original, and they don’t need to be our downfall. That is why I wrote this piece, in case there are other people out there who have complexes of their own – perhaps yours is based on another famous individual, such as Brad Pitt or Kermit the Frog. Whatever the case, I have made peace with the fact that from time to time this feeling of insignificance may plague me, even when I am doing well in my life. I mean really, we are all insignificant in the grand scheme of things – will Adam Driver be remembered in three-thousand years’ time? Maybe! He is a pretty great actor – but who is to tell. It is unlikely any of us will be remembered that far into the future, and that’s ok. As long as we are having a good time in the here and now and making a positive impact on the planet I think we are going to be ok. Even if that positive impact is something as small as writing a blog post on why the idea of Adam Driver is causing a bit of drama in your life right now.

#digressions #adam driver #fame #thoughts #feelings #philosophy

[orionsangel86]

Hey Everyone,

As you have probably noticed, I have neglected this blog for a long time now. I haven’t been on any fandom related social media at all actually. But I figured since I am currently in a good mindset, I want to write a post just outlining some things which basically boils down to a goodbye letter to Supernatural fandom.

Long rambling post below the cut...

This year (and the last) has just taken it out of me in terms of general negativity online both in fandom and in the real world. At first I got tired of fandom (mostly because Twitter is a cesspool of policing and bullying) and then I got tired of everything else (the world sucks right now, and my mental health basically stopped me from being able to participate in any form of online activism – just because I’m not blogging about something, doesn’t mean I don’t support the cause ya know?). Earlier this year, right around the time of the UK lockdowns, I had surgery and a recovery period in which I spent a lot of time with family, and just reacquainted myself with the real world. I think perhaps the coronavirus pandemic made me realise that long before lockdown began I had already been isolating myself from my real life and diving further and further into an online black hole.

It was years in the making. Supernatural fandom preoccupied my thoughts for such a long period of time it got to the point where every moment of my non working time seemed to be spent either online scrolling my tumblr dash or twitter feed, or reading fanfic or doing something fandom related. I invested so much of myself into this show and fandom that I think I forgot who I was before I was a Supernatural fan completely.

After my wake up call in late 2019, which lead me to break free from an extremely nasty clique, I have tried to re-enter fandom on my own terms, as well as attempt to enjoy the source material and the fandom creations to ignite some new spark of love and interest in the show. Yet as much as I have tried, I have failed to do so.

I was thinking recently about someone I used to follow years ago before I ever created a blog. When I was still just lurking in the tumblr shadows and followed the likes of Mittens, Lizbob, and other meta writers of the period, there was a blogger whose name I can’t remember but she was the funniest blogger I had come across. But when the show killed off Charlie Bradbury, she quit. I had never even interacted with her, as I was barely getting my blog started at the time, but I’ll never forget a post she wrote about her feelings on the show. She had recently started watching something else (I think it was Sense8 but can’t recall entirely), and that this new show had given her everything she had never thought she could have from her fave before. She wrote about how her relationship with Supernatural had become abusive. That for years the writers of Supernatural continued to throw punches at fans like her – women, LGBTQ+ people, people of colour, and yet she continued to give it all her time and attention, brushing off the punches because she was so damn devoted to the characters. Then this new show had come along, and it was like she had seen the light. The killing of Charlie Bradbury was the last straw, and she dumped Supernatural’s ass and fled into the arms of her new love.

I hope she is doing fantastically today.

What she wrote has resonated with me for years. I was a fairly new Supernatural fan at the time, and therefore didn’t really understand what she meant. A TV show can’t be abusive. Can it?

Of course, we are speaking in metaphor here, and in no way are these metaphors meant to reduce or limit the truly serious situation of actual abusive relationships, but every now and then, when a new episode of Supernatural has left me feeling upset, disappointed, frustrated and grossly let down, in some cases affecting my mood for days at a time, and therefore my mental health. I have thought back to those words she wrote and quietly agreed with them in my head. Yes. This is a metaphorically abusive relationship.

When I discovered earlier this year that Castiel was most likely going to be killed off in some sort of bullshit self sacrifice before the end of the show, I was extremely distressed. When I found out that my favourite person of all time Misha Collins, supported this ending for Castiel, and may have even been the one who pushed for it, I was more than distressed, I felt betrayed by the person I cared about most. I’ll admit to you all now that in my weakest moments I have fantasized about standing in front of Misha and screaming at him exactly just what kind of affect his “ideal ending” for Castiel will have on his fanbase, on their mental health, and potentially their own safety. This fantasy has me guilt tripping him and doing everything in my power to make him feel utterly shit about the decision. I know what you are thinking – don’t blame Misha, the guy has his own problems and we all know he projects his own self esteem issues onto Cas – and yes, I know this, like I said its only a fantasy to get me through my darkest moments. I don’t hate Misha at all. But perhaps I do love him a little less nowadays than I did back at the height of my fandom life. That’s at least still a little bit more than my feelings for Jensen and Jared which now I can only describe as complete indifference.

I am admitting all of this now knowing full well it will ignite shock and anger among the more die hard fans of J2M, to explain why I need to just leave this fandom completely, or more accurately, why I have already left fandom.

Over the past 10 months of 2020, I have watched a lot of TV (there isn’t much else to do during a lockdown when you are on crutches with your foot in a cast!) and the one thought that occurred to me over and over again was “this show is so much better than Supernatural”.

I kept comparing everything I watched, from the quality of the scripts, the actors, the special effects, to the inclusiveness of the shows. Just so many beautiful and interesting stories that seem to understand their audience, and understand how to entertain and impress without resorting to cringe humour, outdated jokes, and prejudice, not to mention misogyny and queerbaiting – yup, I said it.

The thing is, I think these thoughts have been creeping over me slowly for longer than just this year, but I have been desperately batting them away the way Dean Winchester bats away his own gay thoughts. Unlike Dean though, eventually I couldn’t ignore them anymore. I cannot continue to carve out space in my own soul for this show, which incessantly beats me down regardless of my devotion. The creators, the network, the writers, and sometimes even the cast, have all shown that they don’t care about me as a fan. I’m not some gun toting dudebro living in middle America, so why should they give a damn about me? I’m clearly not their target audience, nor have I ever been.

I know many of you will vehemently deny my personal opinion of Supernatural now. That is absolutely fine. I am sorry to be admitting it, but I had to. I feel like once I finally write out these words, I have got it off my chest and can close and lock the door on Supernatural for good.

Without Supernatural, I am able to focus on my real life, I am able to find pleasure in other things, new things, interesting things, that bring me joy and joy alone – not disappointment and frustration. I found a new job this year, which has been a huge accomplishment as I was stagnating in my old one, and several new hobbies under my belt. I moved to a new flat, I have a lovely flatmate who has been a godsend throughout lockdown, and I have rekindled friendships that I was neglecting due to my Supernatural obsession.

All in all, I am finding post-Supernatural life far more rewarding and content than my life in fandom. It has taken me a while, but I am over the show. And whilst I will always hold a special place in my heart for Castiel, it will be as I know him in my own mind; as the wonderful, strong, powerful and determined angel with a soul, who loves so strongly, and who is worth so much more than his own creators give him credit for. He is up there with Aziraphale and Crowley, with The Doctor, and Buffy, as one of the greatest characters of all time.  

So the Supernatural writers and creators can take whatever ending they have decided upon, and shove it up their asses. I am sorry to say that Sam and Dean Winchester are also lost to me. Any love I had for them was destroyed by their later season depictions. Castiel alone is the only character worthy of that space in my heart now. If in time he longs for a companion, I will find one for him, but it won’t be the Dean Winchester of the canon show. Canon Dean hasn’t been deserving of Cas for a long time now.

Perhaps I am still a little bitter about the ending. Perhaps the finale won’t be the disaster I expect it to be, perhaps Dabb will somehow turn it all around last minute following whatever travesty Bucklemming have given us in 15x19. Either way, I won’t be watching.

So this is me saying goodbye to this blog, at least until I have decided what else to do with it. It certainly won’t be a Supernatural fandom blog anymore. It wasn’t all wasted though. I did get a wonderful friendship group out of this fandom, and I have certainly expanded my knowledge of film and television analysis, as well as having enjoyed a great many memes.

I guess in the end, my internal war with my inner bitter Cas girl finished with her winning, and writing this post. Once it is posted however, I will put her to sleep with thoughts of a happy Castiel, who has swapped his wings for a beating human heart, and is living on a beach somewhere beautiful, refurbishing an old Victorian house, and greeting his kindly elderly neighbours. There’s a gay bar on the main strip, and the bartender is quite a dish. Green eyes and light brown hair with a killer smile. Castiel thinks he looks familiar, like a memory from a past life, but they’ve definitely never met, because this man is kind.

Now that she is asleep, there is nothing left for me here. Goodbye everyone. Whether you manage to enjoy the finale or not, I truly hope you too, find your peace.

#personal #a goodbye message to fandom

[black-streak]

Waiting for the Worms- One of My Turns

Part 13

Woah, so many violence warnings. My god, Mari went off at the beginning here. I support her in her decisions. Any guesses what comes after this?

CLOSED list of people I anxiously await for the reactions of: @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

Gasping into awareness, Marinette's eyes shot open, flying around her surroundings only to lock on to the masked men holding machine guns making their way through the space, a strangely dressed man she vaguely recognized cackling behind them to the sounds of screaming. 

A total of eight of them wandering the enclosed space. Green edged into her vision with the next gasp as fear and unadulterated anger pulsed through her. They were here for Damian, that had to be. How did they find them so quickly, dammit?! She left his belongings on a perfectly sized unrecognizable corpse, it should've taken twice this long to identify the body as not the heir and even longer to track them down to Gotham and fly out. They couldn't be here, they would not get him, he was hers now. Her family, her only family that knew she was alive and they couldn't have him. She wouldn't allow it.

Green overtook her vision for a moment and she decided they deserved whatever came to them in her insanity. She pulled the hood she felt on her back up and over her head while tugging up the scarf around her neck to hide the rest of her face before giving in and dropping back into the screaming cesspool of her mind. 

Marinette became an observer to her own actions, with no say in the matter beyond the absolute need to protect what was hers. At the scream that echoed out, she launched herself up and over the edge of the table, grabbing the first man by the wrist and yanking so his back turned towards her. Her toe pressed into the back of his ankle and presses forward to force him to stay standing on both feet to not fall forward, grabbing the hand holding the gun and yanking it back to brace the hilt of his own weapon against his shoulder to avoid the recoil ending on her. In reaction he immediately opened fire without thought and she took advantage, swinging in the direction of the next two approaching men, somehow hitting in only nonlethal spots as though something was redirecting her. The bloodthirsty screams raged louder at the lack of death and the man in her hold tilted back to pin her into the table behind. Her hand disarmed him without thought, slamming it into his head causing blood to pour from one side as he dropped to the ground.

Turning, she disassembled the weapon in fast practiced motions she didn't recognize, taking the clip and throwing it in an arch, catching the attention of the next attacker and making them focus on avoiding the projectile and she ran forward, sliding in at the last moment with a knife she grabbed off a passing table and slicing the woman's achilles tendons. 

The voices screamed in joy and the green grew brighter in victory as one particular idiot launched themselves at her. She used their own momentum to launch them face first into the wooden floor, taking the bloodied knife and shoving it deep into their lower side, avoiding major organs without meaning to as she twisted out from below, coming to a stand. Five down, three left, plus the familiar one.

One had disappeared from view while the others trained their guns on her. She didn't have her knives or staff on her. She wasn't sure how she knew this, but knew it all the same. Reaching towards the table closest to her, she gripped a hot mug and a small plate, breaking the latter on the table to create a jagged half moon shape. They would do. 

She watched as her body launched forward and into the first one before they could fire, the other two visible ones filling their ally with bullet wounds in their attempt to hit her. With the body launching back towards them, she threw the hot coffee from the mug into the face of the closest enemy, delighting in their agonizing screams as their face blistered. In the same instant, she launched the half moon behind her where the jagged edge embedded itself into the forehead of the one who disappeared before, attempting to sneak up behind her. It stuck where it landed, not deep enough to kill, but enough to pour blood down into their eyes and blind them as they stumbled back and yanked at it. 

Kicking the blister faced one over and out of the way, she focused in on the last one. The leader of the group. Their body language was nervous and the voices went into a frenzy of anger and fear and outright panic with the sight, ready to take out the last threat. From where she sat in the back of her mind, she thought perhaps she wasn't the type of pushback they were used to. She hated how much she wasn't in control of her actions at this point but felt secretly pleased that her madness held off enough to not kill any of them yet. So long as they received medical attention soon enough. Someone must've called this in by now, so she forced herself not to worry on it, watching as her body held still waiting for her opponent to strike, knowing the fear would fuel the man to lash out soon enough. Then the madness would take him out and she could go back to her new life with Dami, out of their reach.

The man chose this moment to shoot at her, though it seemed more a dart gun than anything. She caught it midair and threw it back, watching him jump in a panic, the dart puncturing his skin before he could dodge the unexpected rebuttal. She watched as he clawed at the mask on his face until it fell away and twisted on the ground, freaking out at her feet. Finally she knew why he seemed so familiar. Scarecrow. She faced the man once as Robin when they were younger, the darts always holding the newest batch of fear toxin. The toxin she breathed in. 

Threat diminished, she frantically glances about before launching herself out a back entrance and into a side alley, yanking the scarf off her face as she escaped from view, gasping for air unaffected by the toxic fear gas. She turned down two more alleyways before pressing into a wall and focusing on counted breaths, hearing Damian in the back of his mind counting with her in a soft lull. The green slowly faded out and she looked around.

How did she get here? Where was here? Why wasn't she back in the apartment with Damian? Nothing made sense right now and she desperately forced back the panic at knowing she ran out on him even if couldn't figure out how.

Voices sounded from around the corner and as they drew closer, she heard her name. Her real name. As the first one turned the corner, she fisted their collar and twisted, pinning them up against the brick wall where she had been leaning moments before.

"Who are you? How do you know me?" She demanded, not realizing she had switched to arabic.

Molten brown eyes widened in fear, stuttering out, "Mari? Marinette it's me! Snap out of it!" 

She heard footsteps stop behind her, giving a wide berth as though to not crowd her. Narrowing her eyes, she focused on the face in front of hers, taking note of the shape of their nose and sway of their black fluffy hair. They were older but she couldn't help but be reminded of 'Marc?' she thought to herself, "What are you doing here?" she kept up in arabic, still not fully aware enough to realize it.

"We brought you here, remember? For your seventeenth birthday," a voice called carefully to her right. Whipping her head to the side, she recognized Juleka, Chloe at her side. Twitching to the side a bit, she noticed Kagami on her other side, looking ready to jump in at a moment's notice. Marc spoke up then.

"The gas took hold too fast, we got caught up in the illusions. By the time we came to, masked men were bleeding all over the place and you were nowhere to be found. We came running after you as soon as we realized you were gone. You must still be under its effects."

Her eyes jumped from one face to another in confusion and panic before staring down at herself. This was. This wasn't. How was this possible? Was she back in her old body? She thought the connection was lost. Thought she'd never see her old life again. As shock overtook her, the others became weary in her still silence.

"You don't think," Chloe trailed off, meeting Kagami's eyes around her.

"A switch? Wouldn't we have realized if she still had a soulmate? I thought she lost them years ago?"

"It has to be though.They obviously don't understand what's going on and that definitely wasn't any of the languages she speaks."

Arabic. She spoke arabic, they just didn't know it. Spiraling further, she dropped her hands from Marc's shirt. If this was her old body then his body, Jason's body, was where she left it. With Jason inside of it. Jason was in his old body in her new apartment. With Damian. Who only learned the truth within the last week and had no idea what he was waking up to. With a boy (man?) who thought she was dead up until this point and would have who knew what reaction to finding himself in his supposedly dead body in a strange place with a strange boy.

Panic shot through her and she took off away from the group in what she thought was the approximate direction of her home, only to get yanked back by the wrist. As the momentum launched her back, she turned with hand raised to shove off whoever had stopped her only to feel a tug at the back of her mind telling her it was time to go. Letting herself fall forward against a startled Marc, she quickly gave in.

…

Coming back into Jason's body, she stopped facing a door only to feel small hands push at her back, urging her forward.

"Lets go! You promised we'd find her so move already," a small boyish voice sounded behind her. 

Turning around, she dropped to her knees in from of Damian, "Dami? Are you alright? Is everything okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't know the connection would wake up."

She watched as he looked her over, chewing on her bottom lip as relief swept over his face and he pushed forward to hug her close.

"I'm okay. Everything is fine, you couldn't have known. Are you okay? He mentioned you being attacked and hit with toxin?"

"I took care of that. Nothing to worry about. You know better than to doubt me," she teased, tucking his head under her chin and taking in his warmth and scent, comforted by his relaxed state. She heard a small triumphant noise and a soft "knew it" and gave a half laugh, half sob. 

He had feared for her as she feared for him. Within the span of the switch, he not only apparently argued with her soulmate, but convinced Jason to hunt her down out of worry. Sitting flat out on the floor, she tugged him down into her lap, surprised when he allowed it.

"He knows now."

"Knows what?"

"Where we live, how you came back, everything. It was stupid of me, I shouldn't have blindly trusted him like that. He'll probably come here now."

Processing this, she pulled back a touch and looked at him, using her thumb to smooth out the wrinkle between his eyebrows before slowly answering, mind still reeling from everything that happened.

"It's okay. If you found him trustworthy, I trust your opinion. I suppose all we can do now is wait." He ducked back down against her chest, a silence falling upon them as they thought on what was to come.

#jasonette #maribat #ml x dc #WFTW #part 13 #this part was surprisingly harder to write than I expected #i blame her shock and big sister panic for Maris lack of reaction to the group #shell react fully here soon #my left index finger is a wrinkly little burnt mess right now

[emjenwrites]

Title: Baby, I’m not made of stone, it hurts For: @arowrimo (I’m also going to mention @arospecfanworksweek because I think this might be something they’re interested in, though I literally just discovered their blog) Teaser: Things with the Russians and Section D had started bad and ended worse, and that was before Polly, Arthur, John, and Michael went and got fucking arrested. Or Tommy Shelby grapples with loneliness, guilt, health issues, and romantic orientation in the aftermath of s3. Language: English Category: Fanfiction Fandom: Peaky Blinders BBC Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Character Study Word count: 22.6K (only the first 1.7K on tumblr, follow the links to AO3 for the rest) Content warnings: romance (character is demiromantic), implied/referenced sexual content, implied/referenced pedophilia (basically the same level of implication as canon), implied/referenced suicide, one instance of antiziganism, internalized arophobia (so much internalized arophobia), arophobia, self-hatred, canon-typical language, child abuse, parentification, codependency, prostitution, kidnapping, emetophobia, PTSD, traumatic brain injuries, headaches and migraines

Read the whole fic on AO3

Happy Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week! Here, have 22K of angst because I’m incapable of writing anything else. This fic was written for @arowrimo, though I have ignored their prompts and used their fest as an excuse for a fic that’s been floating around in my head for months.

Warnings: Honestly basically everything you can think of. Read the tags, please.

Title from “Hurts” by Emeli Sandé.

Special thanks to @oceanaromantic for beta reading this fic and putting up with my inability to finish anything on a decent schedule (though in my defense I did not expect this to become my third longest fic on AO3 when I started it).

This fic started out life as an idea for a fic for @boundinshallows‘s Tommy x Alfie prompt fest. Eventually, I decided that fest was the wrong place for a fic like this. Who knows if this is the right place for it either, but we’re giving it a shot anyway.

Admittedly, some of the language might be a little ahistorical. I don’t know how to talk about sexuality—especially aro/ace sexuality—without using modern words and some basic understanding of the Split Attraction Model.

I’ll be completely honest; this fic is a literal cesspool of angst. I’m almost sorry for subjecting you all to it, but not sorry enough not to post it.

--

People made a lot of assumptions about Tommy Shelby. Hell, his own family made a lot of assumptions about him at times. Some assumptions were useful, others were just flat out annoying, and over the years Tommy had learned to ignore them and not bother wasting time correcting people.

One of the common assumptions people made about him was that he was a liar. That was not actually true, or at the very least, not very true. Tommy was actually a fairly dismal liar, though he could get away with it in situations where all he had to do was pretend to be serious until the other person decided that no one would be that serious about something if they didn’t intend to actually do it.

Unfortunately, this was one of the assumptions his family made about him, which was frustrating because Tommy didn’t actually lie to the family. If he didn’t want them to know something he simply didn’t bring it up or refused to answer questions about it. It was unfortunate the family had never managed to figure that out.

All this to say that while Tommy didn’t lie to the family, there were a lot of things that he’d never told them and had no intentions of ever telling them. One of them was that he liked men just like he liked women. Another was that until he’d been seventeen years old he hadn’t thought he could fall in love.

That was a bit of an oversimplification. It wasn’t just a matter of not falling in love. It was more that he hadn’t thought he got crushes. Sure, he found people—both women and men—attractive but there always seemed to be something missing. When people “caught feelings” as Polly liked to say, they always got soppy and wanted to spend as much time as possible with the other person, even if they didn’t know them and were in no way compatible. Tommy didn’t feel that way.

In fact, it had taken him a few years to even notice. Arthur was three years older than Tommy, so obviously he hit the sexual/romantic awakening stage before Tommy did. Unsurprisingly, he did it with the overwhelming intensity that was characteristic of all Arthur’s emotions. When Arthur had a crush, thoughts of that person consumed his every waking moment. They were all he could think about, so therefore they were all he could talk about. It drove Tommy—who already had enough on his plate as a kid who was basically parenting all his siblings—insane. He’d had enough trouble getting Arthur to do anything useful before he’d started mooning after girls.

The biggest fight Tommy and Arthur ever had was during in this period. Arthur had gone out to try to get the attention of some girl who worked in a shop when all Tommy had needed him to do was sit home with John and Ada—both of whom were sick—while Tommy saw to the delicate task of stealing medicine from the storerooms of Small Heath’s only doctor. Arthur obviously hadn’t stayed, and Tommy had come home to find that John and Ada had been left on their own for hours while burning up with fevers. Tommy had soothed them as best he could, fed them the medicine he’d brought, and then settled down to wait for Arthur. Arthur had come back hours later in a very good mood. Tommy hadn’t even given him a chance to start making excuses, he’d simply marched right up to him and punched him in the teeth.

The following fight knocked over most of the furniture in the kitchen, woken John and Ada, and drawn their father from where he’d been drinking in the betting shop. By the time he arrived, Tommy had Arthur pinned to the floor, something impressive given that he’d been half Arthur’s size at the time. If Polly had been the one to catch them they might have just gotten off with a strict lecture, but Arthur Shelby Sr. liked getting to lay down the law with his fists and belt. To make matters worse, he’d already figured out that his second son was smarter than he was, which was not something his ego could stand. When Arthur told their father Tommy had started it, Arthur Sr. was more than happy to dole out what he saw as an appropriate punishment. Tommy had never been able to figure out if Arthur knew what Tommy was angry about, or if what would happen to John and Ada if he didn’t do as Tommy said had never crossed his mind.

With most other children relegated to the position of unnecessary distractions from the serious business of keeping two younger siblings and one older sibling alive, it was perhaps unsurprising that Tommy spent several years operating under the delusion that crushes where just another piece of Arthur’s nonsense and that everyone else approached relationships and attraction in a more sensible way.

Then there was Sara Walker.

Sara Walker was a girl from school. Tommy was not the one who had a crush on her; that was his best friend, Freddie Thorne. It took him an embarrassingly long time to realize that was what was going on. Freddie was much less dramatic about the whole thing than Arthur was. Tommy had been confused about why Freddie suddenly wanted to spend so much time hanging out with Sara, but he hadn’t grasped what was going on until one day on the way home from school when Freddie suddenly stopped walking and asked very seriously, “Tommy, I need your honest opinion; do you think Sara likes me?”

Tommy blinked in confusion. “Of course, she likes you,” he said. “You’re friends, aren’t you? Besides, Sara likes everyone: even me.” Tommy had something of a reputation of being an odd and sour child who preferred the company of horses to people. The fact that he’d been raising his siblings for years meant he was too mature for most children his age, as well. Neither of those things made one many friends.

Freddie rolled his eyes dramatically. “Quit playing dense, Tom, you know what I mean.”

Tommy did not in fact know what Freddie meant, and that must have shown on his face, because Freddie heaved a sigh. “Do you think she likes me,” he said with heavy emphasis on the word like. “Like, boyfriend likes me.”

Tommy blinked again and cleared his throat. “Why does that matter?” he asked. “Because I girlfriend like her, you idiot,” Freddie said, like Tommy was the one who had suddenly taken leave of his common sense not the other way around.

Tommy felt like someone had ripped the earth out from under his feet. He stared at Freddie while his understanding of the world reworked itself. “You can’t be serious,” he said.

Freddie gave him a look that was just as incredulous as the one Tommy was sure was on his face. “Of course, I’m serious,” he said. “Why wouldn’t I be?” When Tommy didn’t respond he shook his head. “What’s up with you? You’re acting like you’ve never heard of a crush before.”

I just thought they were the sort of thing that only happened to people like Arthur. He knew better than to say that, because something told him that wasn’t the right answer.

“I don’t understand you sometimes, Tom,” Freddie said. He was obviously able to tell this conversation was making Tommy uncomfortable, but didn’t seem to know why. “But tell me honestly; do you think Sara likes me?”

“Sure,” Tommy said. He wasn’t sure how you would tell if Sara did like Freddie, and he wasn’t about to ask.

“I think she does too,” Freddie said. He bit his lip. “Do you think I should tell her?”

“Yeah,” Tommy said, because that felt like the right thing to say.

Freddie nodded with an air of finality and lapsed into silence. Tommy let his shoulders relax. He was glad this conversation was over.

He’d relaxed too soon. “What about you?” Freddie asked.

Tommy immediately went tense again. “I don’t have a crush.”

Freddie groaned in the good-natured way he did when he was making a joke. It did not feel good-natured. “Don’t be that way, Tommy. Tell me who it is.”

“I don’t have a crush,” he repeated, his voice rising a little. “I never have.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Freddie said. “Everyone gets crushes. That’s how it works.” He paused and thought. “Actually, I’ll bet Mr. Hall has never had a crush. He’s soulless.”

Tommy winced. Mr. Hall lived next door to Freddie. He was old as dirt and twice as bad tempered. Tommy and Freddie hated him.

“The only people who don’t have crushes have something wrong with them, Tom,” Freddie went on, obvious to Tommy’s spiraling. “So, you’re not fooling me. Tell me who it is. It must be someone embarrassing.”

Tommy wasn’t sure what to say. He couldn’t continue insisting he’d never had a crush now that he knew that only soulless people didn’t have them, but it wasn’t like knowing that suddenly gave him a crush to offer up. He had to say something. Just pick someone, he told himself, searching his brain for a likely candidate. “Maggie Allen,” he got out.

“Oh, that’s not bad,” Freddie said. “Maggie’s really nice. I was starting to worry you were going to say someone like Doris Green. I don’t understand why you were so embarrassed to tell me you like Maggie.”

Tommy shrugged to avoid having to say anything more. Maggie Allen was pretty and smiled even more than Sara Walker did. Tommy also owed her because last winter she’d noticed Ada had no mittens and handed over one of her old pairs despite the risk that her parents would find out. Tommy had been trying to find a way to get her to let him pay her back ever since, but she kept refusing. Maggie was a super nice person and Tommy liked her…just not the way he’d just claimed to.

“You know, we should both tell them how we feel,” Freddie said. “Sara and Maggie, I mean. That’s what you’re supposed to do in this situation.”

“I think I’ll wait a while,” Tommy said, panic rushing through him. He needed to avoid that at all costs. “I’m not ready for her to know.”

Freddie nodded. “I guess that’s fair. I mean, you could barely tell me. How are you supposed to tell her?”

Tommy didn’t comment.

Read the rest on AO3

#arowrimo writing #arospecfanworksweek #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy x alfie #mine #post s3 pb fic

[mic-and-cheese]

Ok this is enough. I'm done being vauge and quiet. I have been hurting and in fear for so long and it's not ok that I've been made to believe that I shouldn't talk about it.

I've ignored nasty anons to pretend like it doesn't bother me because I knew that people from the fandom were watching my blog for a response. I was scared to show any sign of weakness because I wanted them to give up and for a while I was happy because nothing happened.

Then I learned that they have been lurking on my blog for who knows how long despite multiple warnings and posts and dnis saying I didn't want them here.

And that's honestly my final straw. I'm a person who wants to forgive no matter what awful things someone has done to me. I still have it in my heart to say I'm sorry to a disgusting person for something they did to me 3 years ago, and I don't even want to associate with them because they turned out to be a fucking p*do (which, in case anyone was worried, my particular conflict with them is unrelated to that) but my point is that even when I hate someone's guts I still can't hate them enough to not want to reconcile. I don't know why that is but the same is true here.

I was so, so willing to put this all behind me, to apologize and accept an apology and finally be fucking friends again even after I already tried and failed to do it once. But after learning that they can't even respect the fact that I'm gone and want nothing to do with them, I've become so conflicted again. I hate them and I'm not afraid to say it. I hate them and it takes me every ounce of self control I have not to call them out by name. I'm done giving them chances. And yet I still feel the need to forgive and now it's not useful for keeping myself calm in pursuit of someday ending the conflict. Now it's just fucking annoying because they've gone past what I can forgive. I don't care about being the bigger person anymore, they hurt me and they need to fucking know it.

I'm sorry I ever believed anything they said or looked down upon certain characters and ships because I thought they were right at the time.

And if any of you assholes are listening right now, you're sick fucking creeps for lurking on this blog despite me telling you not to. How dare you use my space that you were never allowed in to laugh at me. How dare you pretend like you never talked behind my back and made fun of my art.

You act exactly like middle school bullies and I want everyone to know everything you've done to everyone in the Incredibles fandom and how you transformed it into a toxic cesspool and THEN have the audacity to ask why there's so much drama like you're the victims.

You have hurt so many people and made them scared to leave your toxic clique. I want everyone to know how you've harassed creators with anon hate. You guys breathe exclusionist like it's nothing, and then want to pretend that you respected the fact that I'm asexual. You claim to support autistic people, but you talk behind people's backs if they talk "weird" or have a special interest you don't like when so many of you are also autistic or otherwise neurodivergent and know what it feels like to be hated for it. You're progressive up until it comes to someone you don't agree with. You cast out your own friends if they don't agree with you and talk behind their backs when they leave or get kicked out, and then lie about why you kicked them. You have at least three different channels for stalking, harassing, and talking shit. You hate anyone who dares to be in more than just your server. You are trying to isolate people so that you have them under your control and don't feel like they can leave or have anyone to turn to when they realize how toxic you are. And that's only what you've done before I left.

Update: Listen I'm too tired to be eloquent about this but in case anyone wants to say I'm lying:

Anyway, here's what I'm proposing. Stop checking my blog for a month. From now until the end of september, and in turn I'll stop talking about y'all. I will not make another single post about you until October and if I don't get a single check, I will not mention you again so long as you stay off this blog.

I was never mad that we didn't have the same character preference. Annoyed, sure, but it wasn't a big deal. It became a big deal when I realized I didn't feel comfortable around all of the salt in the fandom and realized that I was mearly being tolerated. I don't even support some of the people you've harrassed, but I do not want to be associated with people like you, so I left, and frankly, its my damn right to be able to talk about how I felt. I never published a single name, and I will never, but it's not right of you guys expect me not to talk about how I felt regardless of if your actions were intentional or not. I do not care that I was not your worst target and I never have or will claim to be. But the environment that you have created is toxic, and talking about my experiences with it was never supposed to be a personal attack on you until you got involved.

Also, because I wrote this while I was angry, I will fully admit that I exaggerated some of my claims and they have been changed accordingly. I apologize for my immaturity and should not have said that, however I will not change anything I know to be true.

Another edit: I have deleted the portion about a particular artist and their work. That was an oversight by me as I did not remember that they are suspected of being legitimately predatory and I would not have included that if I had remembered it at the time of writing. That being said, my stance on the issue is that the type of harrassment that took place against that artist isn't right and that it is better to deplatform predatory people by warning others about them and refusing to interact with them, rather than giving the any sort of attention, negative, positive, or otherwise. I do not support that artist, but I also do not support their harassment and anyone saying otherwise is spreading lies about me.

#vent #this is the bullshit i had to put up with

[angeltriestoblog]

The state of the world has once again taken a turn for the worse, and like all other similar instances, I turn to the comfort of the written word. With that being said, I wanted to put it out there that I have no intention of speaking over the narratives of those who need to be heard the most during this time. (I guess it pays that I don’t really have much of an audience here.) It’s just that I’ve always said that writing helps me compartmentalize my feelings and figure out my next course of action, and I guess this time is no different. I need to get my thoughts down somewhere I can see them instead of having them flit around aimlessly in the deep recesses of my brain.

—

These past few days, I have been made more and more aware of my smallness. Following the (first degree) murder of George Floyd, I’ve had access to all the information surrounding his death: who did it, how they did it and why, the implications of the act, and the several ways black people of color and their allies are standing in solidarity to counteract this brutal display of injustice. I’ve come across several petitions that hope to hold certain individuals accountable or raise issues to the national level, funding sites that aim to provide financial assistance to those most in need, and resources with the intent to educate that demand to be circulated on a wide scale. While these have technically showed me how I’m not entirely powerless, that I do in fact have the ability to enact some sort of change, it’s still difficult to stomach that the change I am capable of making is not as substantial as I want it to be.

I understand that what I’m feeling is a hassle, at worst—nothing compared to those on the streets, to the black people of color who have to fight for rights that are supposedly inherent to all human beings, who demand justice for all those who have fallen because of police brutality only to have these cries fall on deaf ears. I do not have to face various forms of oppression and microaggressions not just when this topic is trending, but throughout the course of my entire life. I do not carry this lingering fear that every step I take outside of my front door could be my last. What happens to their community is absolutely sickening but the thing is, we haven’t even seen all of it. Keeping tabs on social media, checking up with actual victims of structural racism often deludes us into thinking we know exactly what’s going on and how hard it must be, but access to all of this information doesn’t erase the fact that I am watching everything from afar.

So instead of sulking so much that my reaction could be misconstrued as an attempt to make the conversation about me, I tried to channel all this frustration in a more productive manner. I’ve reduced my Twitter time because my timeline has magically morphed into a raging cesspool spewing hatred and anger and is thus getting in the way of my journey towards being an effective ally and concerned citizen. I’m definitely not saying this because the people I follow only ever tweet about the resurfacing of the #BlackLivesMatter movement—hopefully, at this point of the post, I’ve already made it clear that I am far from apolitical. It’s just that my following can easily be classified into two groups: those who wear their ignorance on their sleeve and actively resist any form of education, and those who are so ruthlessly divisive that they scare away anyone who wishes to be educated. The world is already unforgiving enough as it is and I refuse to take part in that kind of culture. I have been trying to ease my way back in though by looking at tweets almost exclusively in the likes of some of my most politically aware friends (hi Pat, Ryen, and Alyanna—I hope you never have to see this) and checking the trends sporadically for any live updates.

Not only have I realized just how many hours in a day going on that stupid bird app actually eats up, but I’ve also had a lot of time to educate myself and reflect on my previous actions. I figured that if I’m so upset about how my impact on a global scale is terribly lacking, I can always start on a more personal level, which is probably just as revolutionary. I’ve watched movies, gone through articles, and even started on this book called White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo, which debunks why exactly it’s so hard to talk about racism with white people. In this process, I’ve learned that everything I knew about the concept was surprisingly shallow and surface-level. Having first claimed my badge of wokeness when I was 15 (and engaged in some pretty performative activism at the time, if I do say so myself), I was shocked to find out that everything I collected from viral hot takes and recommended YouTube videos that claim to be an extensive guide to fundamental social movements possessed an unforgivable degree of inaccuracy.

For instance, all this time, I was under the impression that I could only be a racist if I called someone ugly because of their dark skin or curly hair, or said the n-word whenever I sang along to Caroline by Amine. As long as I didn’t do those things, or any other form of discrimination towards a marginalized group, I was in the clear and had nothing to worry about—I could get a star on the Good Noodle board. In reality, to quote Scott Woods, racism is “a complex system of social and political levers and pulleys set up generations ago to continue working on the behalf of whites at other people’s expense, whether whites know/like it or not”. It is not something we actively choose to participate in, but something that we are born into—literally who would have thought!

Because racism has been demonized by everyone with working mental faculties (as it should be), it’s hard to own up to the fact that at some point, we have subconsciously picked up racist behaviors or exhibited racist tendencies at some point in our lives. Every time someone tries to point out where we went wrong in the hopes of giving constructive criticism, we have our defenses up, a list of receipts of all the times we tweeted the #BLM hashtag prepared to show that we are, in fact, not the villain that we were made out to be. This is a counterproductive exercise that helps nobody. If we truly want to step up and show our support for the movement and those working to make it happen, we must first be open to the possibility that we have done wrong and we have so much more to learn.

As a kid, my beauty standards were very Eurocentric, like most Filipinos: according to a study conducted by me based on years of personal observations and experience, we are the country most obsessed with whitening soap and hair rebonding treatments. I called my friends the n-word as a term of endearment and previously used AAVE (African American Vernacular English) in my tweets to give them a little bit of personality. I chose not to watch chick flicks that revolved around interracial couples because I felt that the difference in their skin color got in the way of their chemistry. One time, when my mom and I were walking to WalMart during a vacation to the States, we came across a stocky black man and my initial reaction was to hold my purse closer to my body. I remain deeply ashamed of these beliefs I held, which were admittedly born out of ignorance, and I acknowledge my responsibility to continue to eradicate any traces of these I may still have.

I am also doing my best to extend the same compassion I have for black people of color during these trying times towards my own countrymen. We’ve struggled enough during this pandemic thanks to the sorry state of our healthcare system, and now the government seems hell-bent on speeding up the passage of the anti-terrorism bill. This threatens to impede our freedom of speech and help government officials get away with incompetence and even abuse of authority. If anyone gets a hold of this blog post and chooses to interpret this paragraph as an open threat to the President, this could be the last time you could ever hear from me, and this frightens me beyond words.

I know this isn’t a new contribution to the discussion but here are some links to helpful masterposts containing a variety of resources should you wish to donate, learn, or sign. This goes for both issues in our motherland and what is supposedly the land of the free. Let’s stay vigilant, let’s stay compassionate. Wishing you all the love and light the world still has left to offer.

#personal #quarantingz #angeltriestoblog #angel tries to make sense of the world #??? #I DIDN'T EDIT OK I JUST RANTED ON A PAGE AND HIT POST

[aloneinxthenight]

M*A*S*H starters

memes from the 4077th

ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL: Here we have a compendium of sentences from a show that is known as one of the best television shows of all time. This was not a request, I do not do requests for starter lists. I was legitimately just watching M*A*S*H and thought the world would be much better with another starter list from it. Feel free to add names and change pronouns as needed, if you wanna add any zingers from the show yourself, don't hesitate! Since M*A*S*H is a military type show, I tried to get as many sentences that could apply to everyone as possible. There's some angst, a whole lot of humor and a few one-liners in here which took hours of watching (such hard work) to compile so enjoy! And if you're sending any one of these tongue-tingling phrases to a multi-muse blog, please specify the muse!

I had a hamster back home who used to get the same look in his eyes when he wasn't feeling good.

Except for your face, your mind and your body, you're a complete dud.

Should we ask some people in or should we just be boring on our own?

Oh, I never do. If I keep washin' them they stay clean forever.

She was in here before, with me, alone.

Maybe it was her perfume... Maybe it was mine.

Do me a favor _______, if you find out I've died, just leave me lying there in the crabgrass.

At least my mouth is still working.

Oh hey, I was there. The army was cleaning out Lincoln's nose.

What do you miss the most about back home?

Well we couldn't finish it anyway, _______ confiscated the best parts.

Almost lifelike.

You wish each of us a prostitute?

He could sell brass knuckles to Gandhi.

How could he be alive like that one second then dead the next?

I could give you a lot of medical reasons but... understanding doesn't make it less painful.

We got to be friends in just a few hours!

Friends don't need any more.

Gee, I hope I don't cry...

When was the last time you felt like crying?

_______ is an expert on fits.

Do I hear ten? Sold to the grim reaper in the third row.

You bought the garbage?

Well, you said get a hobby!

I thought we'd give _______ an appropriate aloha.

Beautiful! Beautiful! A Tintoretto in barf!

I had dreams like this all through puberty...

I didn't see any of it, but I loved it.

That's my garbage!

No, no, that's my garbage, _______, I have a receipt!

I don't kiss and tell... it was terrific.

Ali "Babble" to the end, aren't ya?

How'd you like a grenade in your truss?

Besides my life, _______ wants my virginity.

We all do.

If only I'd known!

He wrote in big letters, "Know your Enema."

Your fly is open.

Don't leave your unopen mail around.

I know you're not giggling because you're wearing feathered underwear, you just can't wait to park your can behind this desk.

Have a good time and, uh, don't do anything I wouldn't do.

I don't know that I'd want to do anything you would do.

Of course, God wasn't surrounded by a bunch of flakes.

I object to the word weird!

You see, I told you it was a war! But no, you keep saying we're both dreaming!

What do you think you're doing wearing civilian underpants?!

Is nothing sacred? These happen to be my mothers!

I'm here to discuss something besides underwear.

My mother always said two things: Never argue with crazy people and always wear clean underwear.

_______, your sanity's sprung a leak.

I think it's going very well, don't you?

It'll never happen... Probably.

Oh, I just figured if a priest could be tempted, that's the type of stuff he'd steal.

What are you looking for, _______?

His marbles.

Are you with him, or are you independently crazy?

The eyes always give the guilty away. The windows to the soul.

Don't tell me he sleeps with you.

I'm hoping to do better.

I knew I should have ripped the stuffin's out of the little bugger when I had the opportunity...

It was one of those days that more than most, reminds us all that war, however much we may enjoy it, is no strawberry festival.

Saving lives is my business, mister.

Was that a bomb?

Uh, no, _______ Someone's playing the WWII album!

You can either help the wounded or become one.

You beat the rap, Babyface!

Lovely place, Bellevue.

"Hold your potatoes..."

I'll probably develop an urge to walk on the water.

Isn't that where the Austrailian nurse scratched you?

Only because I wanted to go home in her pouch.

I patched that months ago.

It's talent, pure talent.

Mmm, sounds serious. You may be coming down with mental health.

It's not a death wish, is it?

You're not the self-destructive type.

You suppose any of us will speak English again?

Perhaps his arms will get tired.

I never sleep in the hospital.

Now they're sending me back.

I think I need less luck back here.

Gee, you're a nice guy.

I used to get hit if I wasn't.

Should I be hearing Arthur Godfrey?

I know you're working but I just wanted to say thanks.

I hope I never see you again, ya know?

I came, I saw, I bored.

Completely forgettable looks that stay with you forever.

Sounds like we're getting into flashback country.

________'s too sharp for that, he always leaves a trail of breadcrumbs.

If I didn't see her every hour, I got the bends.

I know you were young but you must have had names.

Look at that. Talent. I'm not just a pretty face.

You're weird.

Give the little lady a cigar.

Dinner here is around 7. Nausea's around 8.

You have your choice: Gin or gin?

It's pure poison.

We think so.

How do I look?

A little thinner, a little paler. A few gray hairs.

These aren't mine, I'm breaking in a friend's senility.

How do you stand on the subject of sitting?

Children? No, I'm still my only child.

You're trying too hard. Are you uncomfortable?

There's been no one since you.

I had to survive.

Right. Here's to survival.

I'm just afraid of your voice giving me frostbite.

Hurt? You broke my legs. It really tore me apart when you left me.

I got over the hate but I never got over the love.

Oh! Master complicator.

God forbid anything should ever be easy.

"Be myself", You said! Well, myself happens to love you.

Oh, now I understand. Since we're in love there's no possible reason for us to be together!

You've just proposed yourself into a corner!

I just don't want to take a backseat again. I like it up front.

If anybody asks, I turned you down. Yeah?

If it's a police action, why didn't they send cops?

I'm not over here because I'm such a fan of diarrhea!

Can the balloon juice, _______!

How do you keep all that stuff in your head?

Man, seein' the way you guys work makes me proud every time I throw up.

One more word and I'll button your lip to your fly.

Amazing what can get stuck in the human body.

I just know how hard it is to operate and be secretary of state at the same time.

Everybody's got a buddy in there.

Look we'll keep you posted, let you know if it's a boy or a girl.

Hey, would you like some Jeep butter?

I've just heard something very disturbing and if it's true then I'm afraid I'll have to fight you.

When I was five, I had a crying fit because they wouldn't let me have a crew cut.

Uglier than rats mating in my duffel bag?

I worked my way through divinity school as a "B" girl in San Diego.

I smell something burning.

The laundry's on fire.

_______ I don't know how to tell you this, but I've had a better offer.

Take me with you.

Just wanted to thank you for staying.

Some of their saltier comments had been deleted.

The dictionary. I figure it's got all the other books in it.

The only thing that's not green is the blood.

I suppose they do and that gets to be a pain in the ass too.

I'd like it to happen to me to break up the boredom.

That's on the Hungarian side of town.

Well, do you see anything good coming out of this?

There's always terror to fall back on.

Oh, so that's what it's like to have a bomb explode a few feet away from me.

I stopped having morale about six months ago.

You know, I used to love reading Hemingway because he wrote so well.

I guess I got a little drunk.

Uh "a lot" is a relative term.

If I knew all the answers, I'd run for God.

Pistachio ice cream... And bananas.

She squeezes your nose.

Some people heard the screaming and said, "That sounds just like Eleanor Roosevelt!"

I'd like to take six to seven months and become unconscious.

And then I'd like to go to Europe and sleep there for a year.

I had to come over here to be a star!

The nearest one is over in Grange Hall in uh, Mooseville. About 50 miles away.

Oh, I don't have to say hello, I know how everybody feels about me.

No, I think she doesn't like me. I mean that's the only conclusion I can draw.

He could have at least called me a son of a bitch. He's done it for others.

Heads up!

No talking in rank!

He's a magician with latrines and cesspools.

Don't tell me not to say anything.

He's brighter than I thought.

Garbage head.

Santa Claus is coming to town.

♫ I love to go swimmin' with bow-legged women and swim between their legs. ♫

Wounded come before personal chafing.

Oh give him a break, Alice, you're the first woman he's seen in months.

You always give me the cuties.

He owes me, I sent him a case of Preparation H.

Just don't sit on anything cold.

Okay guys, time to beat your feet on the Mississippi mud.

He'll punch my arm.

Wear your heavy sweater.

My God, now I'm talking like you.

That watch you sold me runs backward!

I can't stand that pimply voice.

That is Grade A 100% bull cookies!

Never doubt your X-ray or your hairdresser.

Too bad this kid didn't come with a zipper.

Why didn't I shoot my foot and stay in Honolulu?

Don't get upset, just eat your carrot slowly.

Your nostrils are flaring.

My nostrils have a right to flare, I'm in charge.

You tell him if he takes this chair, my tuchus will attack him barehanded.

The permanent verticle smile. Famed in song and story?

I'm starvin'. I'd even settle for one of _______'s armpit sandwiches.

Oh, you finally realized I have a beautiful body.

I've never seen your body!

If you need me, I'll be packing up my troubles in my old kit bag.

No, but I was always prepared.

_______ when all this is over, I'm gonna adopt you.

Come on, Pokey!

There are sequins all over the ground!

Me, scared? This whole body is one white knuckle.

I'll have the shoelaces, house dressing. And have the chef remove the laces.

There's a lady on my foot.

Oh, miss, this probably isn't your table but could you scratch the back of my knee?

Would I deny you a belch?

Oh to be in England now that war is here.

Due To circumstances beyond our control, lunch will be served today.

Please excuse these two, they're themselves today.

The men hate me, don't they?

_______, you are a gentleman and a lady.

Whoa, did you know it's yesterday there?

Standby for the blessing.

Standby for the blessing!

STANDBY FOR THE BLESSING!

Nothing comes after Amen.

Looks like an abandoned schoolhouse.

Look in the boxes marked kitchen utensils.

Concubines? In a schoolhouse?

Oh no, I love that after church on toast.

That's not your dress! I'll kill ya!

But my blue chiffon is from Murdoch's in Toledo!

_______, that's the finest act of bravery I've ever witnessed.

I don't sleep well on a soft wall.

The weather's clear. I can see the stars.

Oh, thank you comrade, and get me some borscht. Easy on the sour cream.

_______ stop that!

Give him a smooth ride.

I'm gonna be ravaged, I know it!

Tell 'em you're with me.

I was overrun by a batch of bimbos!

It tickled but I kinda liked it.

And midnight has been canceled.

You think you're real smart. But you're not smart; you're dumb. Very dumb. But you've met your match in me.

Life, Liberty, and Pursuit of happy hour.

50 more pounds, and I'm homeward-bound!

I call it "Suicide by Salami"!

You're always wrong, _______. That's what's so right about you.

Live! That's an order!

I'm so cold I think my pilot's gone out.

How much of this can a man take? We must have seen this picture twelve times in the last month. It's a recurring nightmare with popcorn.

Act like a man, you sniveling twerp!

I was born with someone waiting to see me.

Why don't you guys like me?

Because you're a lousy _______ and a rotten person.

Well, there's your pimples.

My pores won't close!

I've been up and down on a merry-go-round since I got here!

I've barely slept a wink!

It's not just big, it's great big with whipped cream!

You shouldn't mention _______'s chest when it's not here to stand up for itself.

Thank you, Daddy Warbucks.

Well, for your information, I've never had any complaints.

Dead men tell no tales.

I know the diamond's not so big, it's a family heirloom.

Must be a small family.

I keep pinching myself to see if I'm dreaming.

I'm engaged to be married!

He sleeps on a bare piece of plywood.

I couldn't love anyone who didn't outrank me.

Are you sure you're not rushing into this in the heat of... Whatever heat you might be in?

This ole cowboy ain't gonna be lonesome tonight.

He's busy tuning his face.

My student council could have used someone like her.

I thought this was going to be a fun meeting.

Get ready to duck, he's liable to explode.

Did anyone ever tell you, you have the voice of a songbird slowly drowning in tar?

If you act drunk long enough, you get a REAL hangover.

Unhand me you varlet, you know not who you touch.

You'd be surprised what a priest can get away with.

Hear ye, Hear ye, it's 0700 and all is hell.

Remove your hand or I'll zap you with my knee.

He touched me.

What a physique! Shoulders like this! Dancers legs and cute little behind!

_______ there'll be no more chinny chin chin. Or any other part of me.

Uh oh, he took his gun and his toothbrush.

Shooting his mouth off again?

Son, heroics just get people killed. They don't impress anybody.

Well, you see I had this friend... And this friend just pretended to like me. You know, the way Dad used to?

They're not pagans, _______. Everyone's going to be wearing clothes.

Oh my God! They've shot him!

Did _______ steal that jeep?

I didn't even know you were gone. I thought you were in the bathroom.

Maybe some people like having other people run their lives, but some people don't.

Oh, stop dreaming a go back to sleep!

I don't remember leaving a wake-up scream.

_______ do me a favor will ya? Visit me a couple hundred times will ya?

Can't you see I can't see?

I wore this with just you in mind.

I heard the hair on your legs rustling.

#rp memes #rp starters #ooc #roleplay memes #M*A*S*H quotes #sentences #memes #MASH quotes

[wellthatwasaletdown]

Why Do We Do It?

In light of the recent (but not that recent…forgive my delayed comments on this topic. I like to digest on serious topics such as this before i comment on them.) allegations towards Harvey Weinstein, I have come back to the question of, why? Why do we do it? Why do we allow ourselves to be entranced by the disgusting cesspool that is Hollywood? How many more scum like Harvey Weinstein, Woody Allen, Bill Cosby, and R Kelly (just to name a few) need to be brought to light before we realize that hey, maybe we shouldn’t be putting these strangers, who only want fame and money, on pedastals higher than fucking Mount Everest? 

I’ve never been the type of person to look up to celebrities. Growing up I always felt like kind of an outsider in that sense because everyone around me had atleast 1 “idol” that they looked up to. I enjoyed music/movies and other things in pop culture, don’t get me wrong, but I just never understood the over obsessive fascination you know? It was the same when I got into 1D a few years ago. I found them to be very likeable and charming and their music was very catchy and fun to me. However I could never bring myself to go to any of their shows because I know how obsessive the fans were. Like there’d be no point in putting myself in an environment where i’d just be miserable and uncomfortable right? I guess you could say that i’m a reclusive fan, for lack of a better term.

Like I’m sorry if I sound like a bitch but there should be no reason at all for anyone to be crying tears of joy at a one direction concert or in the presence of any celebrity simply because you’re in their presence. The amount of attachment that people have towards their “idols” is fucking scary to me. I don’t get it and it’s only gotten worse with social media. You deserve better than to waste your time thinking about whether or not Harry Styles will be nominated for a stupid Grammy or who he’s fucking.

Anyways, I know that this blog is about Harry so sorry for getting off track but I have a point I promise. I look at the things that Harry has done for the past 1-2 years and all the fans that he’s disappointed and it just makes me upset. I don’t give a fuck what Harry does, but I have a lot of empathy for people who are my age and younger who have grown up in this society thinking that they have to worship these stupid celebrities. It’s how we’ve been taught to act and think you know? People feel betrayed and stupid for believing in the lies that they’ve been fed and it fucking sucks.

Harry wants fame and money. Plain and simple. He doesn’t care that the Azoffs are a bunch of shady fuckers because they could give him what he wants and that’s all that matters. It’s very clear that he’s the type of “artist” to put the aesthetic/glamour first and the music second. He loves the attention that comes with the job and that’s truely a pathetic desire to have. Eventually people will stop caring about him and I just hope that he’s able to get his priorities in check before he becomes a shriveled up raisin with an empty life.

My point is that he should have never been a person that people looked up to. A 16-21 year old kid, who isn’t wise enough nor has lived long enough to give anyone advice was and is being hailed as the greatest and most perfect human being by his deluded fans it’s ludacris! I’ve seen a lot of people say things along the lines of, “I’m so mad that I chose to stan Harry, I should have picked so & so.” NOOO NOOO NOOOOOOO!!!!! STOP!!! Nobody should be “staning” anyone! You’re just gonna end up in the same place you are now. Focus on yourself and try to better your own life by living it and making memories of your own. I don’t care what they say, if a celebrity says that they love you, they’re lying. They’re pandering to you and you’re falling for it. Use discernment and don’t allow yourselves to be fooled by people who only want your money and will do anything to get it.

I really enjoy this blog. I support it because while this isn’t exactly the intent of the blog, I think it’s a great way for people to wake up from the trance that they’re in. You’ve found out that Harry Styles isn’t who you thought he was? Great, now the next step is to never allow yourself to be fooled and your time wasted by a stranger ever again. Fuck him and fuck the industry that he’s in that preyed and still preys upon the naiveté of so many people.

*SIGH* rant done!

#harry styles #submission

[badrpstories]

Words alone seem insufficient to express the importance of good communication between muns. Nevertheless, I shall make an attempt in sharing this little story. Disclaimer: there’s nothing lurid or inflammatory here. No fictional sex and violence, no controversy bait. I’m pretty sure there’s nothing triggering…just a mention of mental illness and I think there’s a metaphor that involves drowning but, that’s about it. It’s not even remarkably bad. Just sad. So, if you’re hoping for something scandalous, you’ve been forewarned.

Several months ago, I lost an rp partner that I considered a friend. It’s been long enough for me to be capable of writing this but not long enough for me to be truly over it. I’m writing this because the reason I am still not over it is that I don’t know how much of that loss was my own fault and my behavior in response to that loss has probably ensured that I will never know.

Prior to starting threads we spent a couple months chatting, as often as every other day to once or twice a week. Skimming over the chat log to confirm that frequency reopens and rubs salt into old wounds. 

Then, after we started threading, just a few replies in, they went MIA. No heads up, no indication of any problems, they just vanished. This wasn’t their first disappearing act. Roughly a year before this they had done something similar, albeit under different circumstances. 

With the exception of this ghostly behavior, they were everything I could hope for in an RP partner and, from all I knew of them, I very much liked them as a person and would have liked to count them as a friend. Their other partners seemed like a good group of people that I’d be happy to interact with as well. Since I have very limited free time for RP I’m understanding of others in that situation; I’m also very particular (probably a little peculiar), and perhaps more selective than I’ve a right to be, or have admitted to being in the past. I’m a choosy beggar. So, when they resurfaced and reached out to see if I wanted to write with them again I was elated. I was also very concerned that I might have caused or contributed to their previous disappearance. They assured me I had not, that I’d done nothing wrong. They explained what had happened before and insisted that they’d be sticking around this time.

Had they seemed less available, or less enthused, during those two months before we started writing, had they not been initiating chats and responding so quickly, it would have been different. There should have been a better discussion about future activity expectations. At one point they remarked ‘even if we can only do one reply a week each’ (something to that effect) and that sounded perfectly reasonable to me.

The last time I heard from them all seemed well. I messaged them a little over a week later, after I’d posted replies, just to inform them of some technical issues I was having. When another week had gone by without hearing from them I was starting to get worried. I expressed my concerns and said I would appreciate hearing from them, even if they were unable to reply on threads, just to know everything was okay. Early on, when we were chatting, they had offered their cell number. I didn’t take them up on it. I’m careful with my personal info, it felt too soon and, while I certainly don’t like to be left hanging, I didn’t want them to feel like I needed to keep tabs on them. I was fine with tumblr being our only point of contact.

Six weeks went by with no sign of them. Logically, I knew it was possible that something had come up, that real life might have overwhelmed them. It wasn’t as if they were actively RPing with others but, then again, they could have been on other blogs I didn’t know of, so I couldn’t really take anything from that. I also know that for most in rp, six weeks of zero contact would be considered a sure sign that the other mun is not interested. I know there are those who will simply ghost others they no longer wish to interact with, some openly admit to it.

I was starting to dissect our OOC exchanges and second guessing everything, looking for anything I might have done wrong, anything that might have been misinterpreted and taken wrong. I would never claim to be perfect in any way but I couldn’t come up with anything that, when weighed against all of our OOC talks, would seem to warrant them having a serious issue with me. Before their disappearance they’d had me feeling confident that they were comfortable discussing any problems, but after all that time without so much as a quick im or psa post it seemed increasingly unlikely. I was now too nervous and shy to even consider reaching out to their other partners.

Mental illness should never be used as an excuse. I’m not including this next part to garner sympathy, only to state facts. I did go through a period of wanting sympathy and commiseration but that’s not the purpose here, this is for explanation. By the end of that sixth week my anxiety had taken over and I was drowning in a whirlpool of mixed emotions, swinging between worry over their well-being, remorseful self-flagellation and bitter, resentful resignation. Yes, I know: It is only a hobby. It is ONLY fucking RP. But I could not simply shut the feelings off and repeating that mantra to myself, reminding myself how irrational and insignificant this all was only added new layers of misery. I tried to distract myself. I wanted to do the intelligent thing and move on, find some sort of victory in happiness with other partners but, I couldn’t think about RP at all without circling back around to this: Where had I gone so wrong? 

What if I unwittingly make the same mistakes again?

What if I approach another potential partner or group and accidentally come across them on a different account? Will they think I’m stalking them? Should I just stay away from anything remotely similar?

What if I totally misjudged them from the very beginning?

At the risk of sounding really melodramatic, the worst of it was the feeling of being unable to accurately gauge another’s attitude and intentions, the fear that there is something fundamentally flawed in my perception of other people. But that is something I’ve struggled with a long time, in real life, due to experiences.

Desperate for answers, I went trawling the cesspool of salt and confessions, sifting through and inspecting every possible explanation, from the petty and absurd to the grave and severe. There I came upon things that seemed, to my stress addled brain, sure signs confirming my fears and suspicions. Maybe I was right. I’ll never know, and that just might be due to what I chose to do next.

There are more details. There always are, right? There’s more to the story that might give a little more insight but, those might be too revealing, for both of us involved. This is no call-out and those details aren’t critical to the purpose. However, given those details, my state of mind, the history, the timing, all of our previous discussions and traded reassurances, their actions felt almost punitive and mocking, as if they had done this to ensure I’d never even want to interact with them again. So, I sent a curt im and soft-blocked them.

I can still remember the feeling of my fingertip hovering over that block button as it wavered, through tear-blurred vision, in time with my pulse. The guilt was instantaneous. But I didn’t stop there, oh no! I did the same with a mutual-mutual because they were partners first so of course that person wouldn’t want anything to do with me either. I had intended that to be the end of it. I didn’t even stick to my own resolution. I later sent a lengthy rant expressing my hurt and frustration, chiding them for not having the courage to give me a simple, honest, clear rejection. Over the following months I became increasingly convinced of mistakes I had made early on. In random moments of weakness I would message again, attempting to apologize for these errors, although I was still hurt by the fact that they’d never mentioned any problem (assuming there was one to begin with). Eventually, I deleted our threads, changed my url, essentially shut down. Ultimately, I came to terms with the fact that my own behavior had turned toxic. I should have just quietly walked away after a month of no contact. Instead, all I’d done had achieved nothing but piling wrong upon wrong. I messaged again, trying to apologize for that.

I’ve never seen a trace of them since the last time we spoke so many months ago. I have been told they are alive and more or less well, I’m not sure whether or not I should believe everything I’ve heard. Now and then, I worry that there was some wild misunderstanding, or maybe some bizarre glitch. More worrying is the possibility that their real life circumstances actually have been difficult enough to keep them from ever logging on at all for all this time. But I don’t really think any of that is plausible, more like some sort of twisted wishful thinking that only makes me feel worse. It wouldn’t make me feel worse if I hadn’t reacted like I did and now it’s the only reason I haven’t completely gotten over this, because I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone, I never intended to hurt them. As hurtful as what I did do may have been, I was only able to because I believed they did not care at all. But I know that does not make it right, or healthy, regardless of whatever the facts about their disappearance may be. 

So, if you ever find yourself in a similar place, as difficult as it may be, try to avoid making the same mistakes I did. Do not block. Don’t even soft-block. Just drop it and try to forget. Vent anonymously if you must. Try not to say anything you might ever, ever regret. Don’t screw yourself out of the chance to walk away with a clean conscience.

#mental illness tw #submission

[chicagoindiecritics]

New from Every Movie Has a Lesson by Don Shanahan: COLUMN: New Year’s Resolutions for the Movie Industry for 2020

(Image by Muharrem Aner for Getty via The Daily Beast)

Plenty of regular everyday people make New Year’s Resolutions, but I think bigger entities, namely movie makers and movie moguls, need to make them too.  Annually, including this ningth edition, I have fun taking the movie industry to task for things they need to change, even if I get to do it every week in a different ranting way on my “What We Learned This Week” column contribution for the Feelin’ Film Podcast website. Loyal readers and followers of that podcast and column will get my cadence.  I have no false internet courage to be a Twitter troll. As always, some resolutions come true while others get mentioned and reiterated every year. Enjoy this year’s hopes and dreams, as we enter a new decade!

#1: It’s all cinema.

Rant after rant, click after click, retweet after retweet, boy did ole Marty Scorsee start a fight when he looked down on Marvel films this past fall. It’s been a hand-wringing soapbox passing game since.  I don’t mean to sound regressive like #AllLivesMatter versus the true need of something like #BlackLivesMatter, but someone needs to tell Mr. Scorsese that it’s all cinema, from every cheesy and trashy film to every astute and austere film.  That’s from Cats to The Irishman and everything in between. They are made by creators aiming for storytelling, entertainment, and expression.  They just do so to different degrees and for different audiences.  So, respectfully, Marty, STFU. 

#2: Don’t stop supporting minority voices.

Led by Barry Jenkins, Spike Lee, Marielle Heller, Lynne Ramsey, and others, 2018 was a banner year for diverse talent creating movies. 2019 felt like a slight exhaling lull from 2018’s volume. Still, 2019 was an extraordinary year for female directors, led by Greta Gerwig, Lulu Wang, Olivia Wilde, Celine Sciamma, Jennifer Kent, Julia Hart, Catherine Hardwicke, Kasi Lemmons, Melina Matsoukas, Gurinder Chadha, Anna Boden, and Elizabeth Banks. Hollywood, keep these doors opening.  Don’t just do this for tokenism. The audiences are coming.

#3: Disney, slow down your own releases.

We get it, Disney. You dominate, but your movies are feeling less and less special when they are everywhere. And that includes Disney+. Like I said last year, I remember a time when there was only animated Disney film a year. It was huge, important, and it mattered. It’s hard to multiply care when there are a half-dozen or more between Pixar, Marvel, Star Wars, and their own house brand choices. I know that to their suits, they don’t care because Aladdin and The Lion King each made their billion dollar goals. Still, imagine the anticipation if there was scarcity. That billion turns to two billion. Make them better and make them matter.

#4: Speaking of streaming services, keep respecting Netflix.

This is a bit of a repeat from last year. Roma broke Netflix’s glass ceiling at the Oscars and the perceived bias and beef seems to be subsiding. The streaming service has four legitimate Oscar contenders this year in The Irishman, Marriage Story, The Two Popes, and Dolemite is My Name. Matching another resolution from last year, it appears Netflix, through coup-level business deals, is choosing quality AND quantity. That’s true clout and it’s earning them credibility. They continue to revitalize the mid-range budget market and give indies and documentaries wider and better chances to be seen that fighting for multiplex screens. I saw it all the time. Netflix is not killing the business. It’s just advancing it. Now they just need to work on a competitive price point to Disney+. They’re going to bleed casual subscribers if they keep costly double their newest and most formidable competitor.

#5: Please let Adam Sandler turn a new leaf.

For years, Adam Sandler was a regular appearance in these resolutions and then I gave up trying. Before Uncut Gems in 2019, I legitimately and truthfully had not watched an Adam Sandler movie in nine years.  I didn’t need Jack and Jill to give up on him and the repetitive manchild garbage he was making.  I had no regrets abstaining from his career.  Hot damn, though, did he supernova with Uncut Gems.  Please let this career resurgence be a true new trajectory and not a one time thing.  Don’t let him dangle a role of two like Eddie Murphy and go back to the low-hanging fruit garden.  He’s back and I want more.

#6: Adam Driver and Florence Pugh will be the stars of the 2020s.

Even with a big second half and huge 2019, I won’t call Adam Driver the star of this decade, but I have a good feeling he will be the star of the next one.  I’ll give this past decade to Leonardo DiCaprio, Bradley Cooper, Ryan Gosling, and Christian Bale before Driver, but few actors have his crossover appeal and towering potential right now.  Need proof?  Pick anything from this year, but especially Marriage Story.  Watch him win the Oscar to kick off his 2020.  As they say, the sky (and for him, the galaxy), is the limit.  His white-hot female equivalent is Florence Pugh who carried a tremendous 2019 with Fighting With My Family, Midsommar, and Little Women. She is a dual Oscar contender for those latter two roles and has Black Widow to start 2020.  We see many ingenues come and go, but, like Driver, her range across genres is formidable and will keep her around and successful for a very long time. If you need one more name and talent to watching, keep an eye on Kelvin Harrison, Jr. from Luce and Waves.

#7: If you’re a celebrity, get off Twitter.

This is another returning and welcome resolution from last year. Twitter continues to be the cesspool of bad opinions, internet courage, and the worst of fandom. Stars don’t need to kiss those rings or embrace that toxicity just to get over. Do it with your work, not your access. Establish your reverence there and not in the mudpit.

#8: This next decade challenges ahead. Meet them creatively.

The 2010s brought a swell of nostalgia regurgitation like we’ve never seen with peaks and valleys across James Bond, Star Wars, Star Trek, Mission: Impossible, Jason Bourne, the MCU, the DCEU, Transformers, Pirates, Ghostbusters, Planet of the Apes, Rocky, Rambo, Despicable Me, Men in Black, The Terminator, Toy Story, Ocean’s 8, and every possible Disney re-imagining.  Try as the greedy studios may, surely the noise of all that cannot continue another decade.  Creative bankruptcy has a limit and it’s going to run out and crash hard.  The 2020s have the challenge of creating new properties and experiences because the old stuff won’t last forever.  With the close of a Star Wars saga and a massive MCU phase to finish 2019, we stand at the edge wondering what’s next and what can top what’s been done.  It can’t all be new Avatar movies.  Your decade, your move, Hollywood.  Give us something good.  In the meantime, we’ll be on the couching binging your streaming services.

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[agalarianzigzagoon]

gonna put this under a read more because sara wanted me to answer them all >_>

1. Who was the last person you held hands with? i honestly have no idea. 2. Are you outgoing or shy? i’m pretty outgoing unless my anxiety is acting up. 3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? i’m potentially buying a ticket to RTX off of someone, so i’d be looking forward to seeing everyone there.  4. Are you easy to get along with? as long as you don’t give me shit, yes. 5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?  i wholeheartedly believe yes (after being texted multiple memes). 6. What kind of people are you attracted to? funny, caring, basically as long as you’re a fucking memer like i am we’re gucci. 7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? i hope so .^. 8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? he knows who he is :p 9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? sometimes? idk it’s weird. 10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? i’m p sure it was aidan because The Depression hit. 11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? “yeah this is the shit i come up with when i’m bored” to vix 12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now? everything is alright- motion city soundtrack, time won’t let me go- the bravery, breaking and entering- tonight alive, screw eyes- color therapy, the hills- the weeknd 13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? i would literally melt into a puddle. 14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? absolutely 15. What good thing happened this summer? staying up way too late playing stupid fucking video games.  16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? absolutely not he turned into such a scumbag holy shit 17. Do you think there is life on other planets? i dunno, but it’d be cool to find out for certain. 18. Do you still talk to your first crush? nope, i haven’t seen him since my school closed after 6th grade. 19. Do you like bubble baths? don’t have an operational bath because the pipes are cracked, but i never really took baths. 20. Do you like your neighbors? my neighbors to the left of me (if you’re looking at my house) are weird as fuck, neighbor to the left is the sweetest person you’ll ever meet 21. What are your bad habits? biting my nails, cracking my joints really loudly.  22. Where would you like to travel? i really want to go somewhere cold. i’d love to see the northern lights. 23. Do you have trust issues? very severe ones. 24. Favorite part of your daily routine? when i’m at work, coming home and being able to destress because my work environment is shit. when i’m off, going out and goofing off with niko. 25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? pretty much all of it, honestly. 26. What do you do when you wake up? flop around looking for my glasses. 27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? i’m fine where it is right now. 28. Who are you most comfortable around? anyone from the discord chats i’m in and the few friends i retained from high school (aka sascha and inky). 29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? it wasn’t even a breakup it was just “oh i moved away and mostly forgot about you” so i don’t even consider him an ex. 30. Do you ever want to get married? yeye. 31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail? that’s my hairstyle of choice. 32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? bitch what. no. 33. Spell your name with your chin. kzasgtkied (could be worse) 34. Do you play sports? What sports? nope, but i like screaming at hockey. 35. Would you rather live without TV or music? tv. i pretty much only keep it on as background noise anyway. 36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? yeah, and it sucked but oh well, things happen for a reason. 37. What do you say during awkward silences? “sooooo.......” 38. Describe your dream girl/guy? funny, willing to stick by even if things get bad, likes memes as much as i do. i’m not really picky and they don’t need to have the same interests that i do because i love hearing about things that i may not have any idea about. 39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? i really don’t have any? 40. What do you want to do after high school? well i’m already out of high school and all i know its not working this shitty minimum wage job. 41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? yes, unless they’ve already taken those chances for granted or done something severe. 42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean? that i’m extremely upset. 43. Do you smile at strangers? i try to. 44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? outer space. 45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? usually the fact i have to go to work, but if not, the pup. 46. What are you paranoid about? the people i care about not actually caring about me. that’s my main fear. 47. Have you ever been high? that’s a hard no. 48. Have you ever been drunk? twice. once on new year’s eve 2016 and then in january for my birthday. 49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? not that i can think of. 50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? yellow. 51. Ever wished you were someone else? hasn’t everyone? 52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? i wish i wasn’t so anxious over things. 53. Favourite makeup brand? i don’t really wear makeup but I like covergirl and prestige eyeliner. 54. Favourite store? as cringy as it is, gamestop and hot topic. but i don’t go out much. 55. Favourite blog? there’s a LOT. 56. Favourite colour? purple and blue. 57. Favourite food? chicken. 58. Last thing you ate? grape freeze pop. 59. First thing you ate this morning? bagel with cream cheese. 60. Ever won a competition? For what? i got third place in a spelling bee in 5th grade and got first place at both regionals and states for pjas (basically a pa statewide science competition). 61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? i got an ISS for socking a kid who later became my crush in the nose in 4th grade because he was annoying me. 62. Been arrested? For what? nope. 63. Ever been in love? absolutely and it’s the best feeling i’ve ever felt. 64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? it was on the way back from a band competition, and we were all crammed onto a school bus. we were sitting in a seat together and i was tired so i kinda dozed off a little but when i woke up i was like “fucking kiss him god damn it you’ve been dating for like a month and a half” and i just DID.   65. Are you hungry right now? a little. 66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? i don’t really have too many “tumblr friends” that aren’t also my real friends. 67. Facebook or Twitter? facebook because i love reading the drama. 68. Twitter or Tumblr? twitter tumblr is a fucking cesspool. 69. Are you watching tv right now? just as background noise. 70. Names of your bestfriends?  (most will be their online names) there’s like three sarahs/saras, vix, bonk, d, rose, rory, inky, james, aidan, quartz, bunn, hal, and cheese. (i have so many online friends holy fuck.) 71. Craving something? What? the sweet embrace of death. nah but for real like... watermelon or just fruit in general. 72. What colour are your towels? i have a blue one, a red one, and a yellow one.  72. How many pillows do you sleep with? two usually. 73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? not anymore. 74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? probably a good amount but they’re all in the attic. 75. Favourite animal? i love pretty much all animals but i love dogs/wolves/foxes. 76. What colour is your underwear? white. 77. Chocolate or Vanilla? why not both? 78. Favourite ice cream flavour? chocolate peanut butter swirl or mint chocolate chip. 79. What colour shirt are you wearing? reddish-magentaish? 80. What colour pants? blue. 81. Favourite tv show? my favorite of all time will always be siberia. 82. Favourite movie? twister or edward scissor hands 83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? mean girls. 84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? I’ve never seen 21 jump street all the way through so mean girls again. 85. Favourite character from Mean Girls? don’t really have one, but if i had to pick, janis. 86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? crush because who doesn’t love stoner turtles? 87. First person you talked to today? i think it was my mom. 88. Last person you talked to today? one of the many sarahs i call my friends. 89. Name a person you hate? if i say it i’ll probably get arrested lmfao. 90. Name a person you love? @riones-lair​ :* 91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? i’m always ready to punch someone. 92. In a fight with someone? not that i know of. 93. How many sweatpants do you have? probably 5 or 6. 94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? an unnecessary amount. probably 17 or 18. we collect hoodies like they're going out of style. 95. Last movie you watched? probably one of the harry potter movies 96. Favourite actress? don’t really have one. 97. Favourite actor? johnny depp because of edward scissorhands. 98. Do you tan a lot? no, i burn and i burn badly. 99. Have any pets? niko who is a massive neapolitan mastiff that farts a lot. 100. How are you feeling? sleepy and in pain. 101. Do you type fast? when i get really into doing something i can type so fast you would not believe. 102. Do you regret anything from your past? a lot of things, but the past is the past. can’t do anything about it. 103. Can you spell well? i like to think i do. 104. Do you miss anyone from your past? of course, but they’re in the past for a reason. 105. Ever been to a bonfire party? a few times, my grandmother has a big backyard and we’d have bonfires back there. 106. Ever broken someone’s heart? i don’t think so. 107. Have you ever been on a horse? yes, his name was macaroni and i loved him very much. 108. What should you be doing? SLEEPING. 109. Is something irritating you right now? the slight headache i have going on. 110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? once but then i realized it wasn’t worth the pain. 111. Do you have trust issues? didn’t i get asked this before? but yes. 112. Who was the last person you cried in front of? i don’t remember physically but while talking to someone it was quartz, aidan, and aidan’s girlfriend sarah. 113. What was your childhood nickname? usually only ever called kate. 114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? farthest i’ve ever been out of state is alabama. 115. Do you play the Wii? i used to, not so much anymore. 116. Are you listening to music right now? i was but now i’m watching a twitch stream. 117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? yesssss. 118. Do you like Chinese food? certain types make me sick but for the most part yes. 119. Favourite book? the entire Maximum Ride series. 120. Are you afraid of the dark? not really? 121. Are you mean? really only if people are mean to me. 122. Is cheating ever okay? no. never. 123. Can you keep white shoes clean? for a while, all shoes inevitably get dirty. 124. Do you believe in love at first sight? yes. 125. Do you believe in true love? yes. 126. Are you currently bored? somewhat. 127. What makes you happy? drawing, writing, talking to people that care about me. 128. Would you change your name? if i could get my full first name shortened to my nickname that’d be good enough for me. 129. What your zodiac sign? capricoooooorn. 130. Do you like subway? sweet onion chicken teriyaki all the way. 131. Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? tell him i have a boyfriend and that he should have said something like a year and a half ago lmfao. 132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? pretty sure i was asked this too? but yeah, aidan. 133. Favourite lyrics right now? “i am so homesick for someone that i never knew/ i am so homesick now for someplace that i’ll never be” 134. Can you count to one million? it’ll take forever, but yeah. 135. Dumbest lie you ever told? i’ve told a bunch of stupid fucking lies holy shit. 136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? closed. 137. How tall are you? 5′6″, i’m short. 138. Curly or Straight hair? wavy. 139. Brunette or Blonde? dirty blonde. 140. Summer or Winter? winter. 141. Night or Day? night 142. Favourite month? october. 143. Are you a vegetarian? absolutely not. 144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? milk and white. 145. Tea or Coffee? tea. 146. Was today a good day? surprisingly, yes. 147. Mars or Snickers? you’re asking mars or mars. snickers, though. 148. What’s your favourite quote? as corny as it is, i love “don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” 149. Do you believe in ghosts? definitely. 150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page? “Up!” - The Lake House

#here you go sara #cutesymikey

[pleasecallthepizzaplaceform-blog]

Fuck the Bus

I had very clear ideas of what I wanted to write earlier and now I’m sitting here like... what the hell am I doing? what the hell is even the point? Clarity! Trying to gain some goddamn direction and clarity. But I’m reminded of something I saw in Emily’s house... or instagram. Or cover photo? Whatever. It was something like, “sometimes everything seems so oh, I don’t know.”

Lemme backtrack to Thursday. I walk into my morning class and one of my students calls me a pig. I walk into an early afternoon class and a different student calls me a fat pig. And to round it all out I walk into my elementary classroom and another student calls me a hippo. I’m not called these names every day, but I am called them often. It took a solid four to five months before it stopped being a daily occurrence. Like the kids decided, “Okay, she’s a fat pig, but she’s alright enough.” Or whatever the fuck kid logic is. But sometimes they like to revert back to it, perhaps as a fond greeting for an old friend. Or maybe it’s because KIDS ARE ASSHOLES. I don’t know.

Whatever, regardless, this was a hat trick on a bad p.m.s. day with shitty classes all in a row and I was fucking over it, yall. When I finally come trudging down the stairs, one class left on the docket, Juhnee, supreme overlord of KC, comes up to me and asks if I’ll come back to the school after going to Thailand for a month. She wants me to teach for 3-4 months so she can wait until September to hire a new teacher. I laughed. I laughed so hard. And then I said no and laughed some more.  And then I panicked and asked, seriously? She explained her sob story, offered me a raise, told me we could negotiate. She wanted me to decide then and there but I told her I needed time to think about it. 

Why the fuck did I need time to think about it? Well, I feel bad for Juhnee, even though she’s completely shit all over our contract. She’s still a nice person... somehow. I mean like... it’s just a thing for another blog post, I guess. But skipping over the complex Juhnee feelings, I felt bad for her. And I have been scared about money, finding a job, throwing caution to the wind. If I’m working at Kid’s College then I couldn’t possibly be trying to couchsurf my way around and, oh no, there goes that life altering experience that I’m not even sure I want. It’s also familiar. I could probably get away with a bunch of bullshit. I could still have a month off to go home and be with my friends and maybe even some family. And my beloved tacos.

So that night I went home and thought about it. It was a very gradual conclusion though. No epiphany, no grand gestures. Just a painful knot in my stomach that only got worse the more I thought about coming back to this cesspool. I wish I could say, in the grand decision of Brandon Weir, Fuck the Bus, but, as always, I am never capable of being fully convinced that what I’m going to do is the right decision. But, at least in this instance, I’m pretty sure it’s the most right decision. 

Fuck Kid’s College. I’m going to Thailand, goddamnit. And maybe I’ll hate it and maybe it will be a huge waste of money and maybe I’ll go back to Texas and end up having to work some shitty job for a hot minute. But I sure as shit won’t be listening to Mir call me a fat pig anymore. 

Come September, I’ll have a new Mir calling me a fat pig. But also maybe a co-teacher who gives a shit. Who knows? The world is a terrifying, unpredictable place. 

(And just to explain, on vacation Brandon once paid a cab driver $45 to drive him to his hostel instead of grabbing the city bus for $1 and had absolutely no qualms about doing it. Thus birthing the most beautifully exuberant, financially defiant attitude of fuck the bus. That motto is almost regal to me.)