#reee i love they ass

[mindninjax]

Kinda obsessed with the idea of Eiji and Katsu helping you get ready for girls night out and hyping you up. Playing music on the loud speaker, fucking opening doors for you like you’re a princess, fixing your hair and make up before you leave, fastening your shoes for you, picking out which clutch you’ll use for the night just AHH my HUSBANDS!

#lol in my head ‘Like This by Kelly Rowland’ is playing on the loud speakers #and at the beginning when they say ‘Ladies and Gentlemen Kelly’s Baaackkkk’ #I picture Katsu and Eiji presenting you to your friends like ‘Ladies and Gentlemen Marquie’s Baccckkkk’ #and then Katsu is like ‘you better take care of my baby. im bein frfr’ #reee i love they ass

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Then & Now (M, cold)

Hiii, hope you like A LOT of hurt followed by 2-3 sentences of comfort lmao. This is Greyson fic - Grey is sick on a day he and Reed are supposed to have a date, and he's sure Reed is going to be angry with him because Trauma(TM). It's told in a flashback sort of format which I really enjoyed because I love writing blurbs of colds at different times in life lol. I hope you guys like it, please let me know what ya think, good, bad, or otherwise :)

CW: Male snz, cold, pneumonia mention, coughing, contagion mention, lots and lots of whump lmao. A little over 4K words under the cut.

Then & Now

Now

“Morning, Chef.”

“Huh-! HhITSZHH-ue!”

Elijah turned towards Greyson, who was doubled over into his hoodie sleeve, and gave him a sympathetic grimace. “Cooks finally pulled you under, hmm?”

“Ugh, like way fuckin’ under,” Greyson muttered, rubbing his eye and sucking in through his nose. “I feel like ass.”

“Sorry, dude,” Elijah said, tossing his counterpart a box of tissues. “Sucks.”

Greyson caught the box and pulled out a few just in time. “HITSZHZH-uhh!” This one, he managed to catch in the handful of tissues. He wiped his nose and shrugged. “Yeah,” he said, tossing the used tissues. “Mbostly because I was supposed to have a date tonight.”

Elijah smirked at his friend, who was pushing past the GM into their shared office. The two of them sat in unison. “Do you guys still call them dates? You’ve been official for, like, six months.”

“It’s our six-month anniversary,” Greyson said, his voice flattened by congestion. “We were going to do EMP.”

“Awww, now I’m depressed,” Elijah said. “Also, why didn’t you tell me earlier you were going to Eleven Madison? I still know people there.”

“So does Reed,” Greyson said, massaging his temple. “That’s why we were goigg. Fuck, mby fuckin’ head is pounding. Do we have any -?”

Elijah placed the ibuprofen in front of the chef before he could ask, along with a bottle of cough syrup and a decongestant. “You know we have it all,” he said, pushing an old cup of water across the desk for Greyson to swallow his arsenal of pills. “And fair enough. Well that fuckin’ sucks, dude, I’m sorry. Hey, at least you can leave early, right? Matt’s closing?”

“Yeah,” Greyson said, unwrapping a cough drop and popping it in his mouth. “I’ll head out once the rush is over. I still have to text Reee – hh...hhNTSHH-ue! HGTSHH-uhh!” Greyson doubled over, sneezed into his arm, and groaned. “I’mb gonna kill the guys when they get in,” he said, mostly to himself.

“Don’t do that,” Elijah said, placing a hand on Greyson’s shoulder on his way out of the office. “Then you’ll have to stay all night.”

Greyson huffed out a laugh and pulled out his phone. He clicked on his conversation with Reed, sighing. He did not want to have this conversation.

Greyson

9:31AM

hey babe. gonna have to cancel tonight, the cooks infected me w their plague :( im rly sorry.

The chef set his phone on the desk, prepared to either be ghosted or gaslit – two of Collin’s favorite pastimes whenever Greyson had had to cancel their plans during their relationship – and was shocked when the phone buzzed with a text almost immediately. He was almost afraid to look at his boyfriend’s response.

Reed

9:32AM

Oh, baby don’t be sorry!! what time are you off? I’ll pick you up and take you home :) we can do a sick day little date night instead!

Greyson stared at the phone, stunned. He couldn’t help it; he read the message again, then out loud said, “What the fuck?”

Then – Ten Years Ago

“Chef?”

The Executive Chef looked up from his paperwork at Greyson and sighed. “What is it, Abbott?”

“I, um – hh! HTSHH-uh! HGXTSH-ue! Snf. Umb, I just wanted to see if it was okay if I… left a little early today?” Greyson asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His chef raised his eyebrows and put his clipboard down. Oh, no, Greyson thought.

“Leave...early? And leave your clean up and prep to whom, exactly? Me?” The Executive Chef huffed out a laugh. “That’s rich, Abbott. Why the fuck would you need to leave early?”

“I…” Greyson started, but his voice gave out on the single syllable. He attempted to clear his throat. “I just… I really feel like shit? I was hoping I could, like… sleep it off, I guess. I mbean, I wouldn’t want to get anyone else sigck.” Greyson felt a cough bubbling to the surface; he tried to quell it, to no avail. The younger man collapsed into a coughing fit that felt like it lasted a lifetime.

The Chef remained unmoved. “My guys,” he said, placing a hand on his chest as Greyson attempted to compose himself, “don’t get sick, Abbott. And if they do, I don’t fucking hear about it. Understand? Because I really don’t give a shit. If you’re here, you’re here. If you decide to leave early,” he shrugged, uncaring, “then you leave for good. And Abbott, if you try to get a job after walking out of my kitchen, I promise you I will make it impossible. I know you’ve only been here a couple months, but here’s what you need to learn: put your head down and do your fucking job, and you can work anywhere in the world after this. Be a whiny piece of shit who tries to walk out on his shift, and you’ll be working at McDonald’s for the rest of you life. Got it?”

Greyson, too shocked to rebut, just bobbed his head up and down.

“Let me hear you say it,” the Chef said. Greyson cleared his throat.

“Yes, Chef,” he said. The Chef nodded.

“Now get the fuck out of my office.”

Now

“Elijah. Look at this text.”

The GM looked up slowly from the iPad where he was going over reservations for the evening. “...Why?” he asked, taking the phone from Greyson’s hand.

“Just look. Tell mbe that’s ndot weird,” Greyson said, crossing his arms over his chest. Elijah looked down, confused, and read the text. He pinched his eyebrows together just a little, and read it again. “See? Isn’t that weird?”

“Greyson…” Elijah said, handing the phone back. “That’s not weird.”

“Seriously?” Greyson asked, reading the text yet again. “It’s bizarre. He’s ndot even a little mad? C’mon. That’s weird.”

“He’s being sweet,” Elijah explained, slowly, as though he were talking to a toddler. “Did you want him to be mad? Because that’s bizarre.”

“Ndo I don’t want him to be mad. I jus – HTSZHH-ue! HRRSHH!” Greyson wrenched to the side to sneeze, which sent him into a fit of hacking coughs. “I just figured he’d want to, like, yell at mbe or something. For canceling,” Greyson finished, his voice strained against another cough. Elijah didn’t respond, not at first, and instead pressed a hand onto the chef’s forehead.

“I think you’re sicker than we thought, because you’re acting fucking delusional,” he said as Greyson slapped his hand away. “Greyson, normal people don’t yell at each other for getting sick, or having to cancel a plan. That’s, like, really twisted.”

Greyson rolled his eyes. “It’s ndot twisted, Lij you fuckin’ drama queen,” he said, then held up a finger. “Onesec – hh! Hh...hnn.” Greyson sniffled, a let out a little irritated cough. “Lost it.”

“Go back to the kitchen,” Elijah said, pointing towards the swinging doors. “Sit down. Rest. Let your medicine kick in. I don’t want people seeing this -” he gestured to Greyson, as if to allude to his entire being – “when they walk past the restaurant. Alright? Text your boyfriend something nice. Not something unhinged.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Greyson muttered, turning toward the kitchen, his phone still open to the conversation with Reed. He turned towards Elijah again before pushing through the kitchen doors. “I still say that this is the unhinged thing.”

“Go to therapy, Greyson,” Elijah said, not looking up from the iPad. Greyson rolled his eyes, pushed into the kitchen, and regarded his phone once again.

Greyson

10:07AM

thanks, babe. it’s ok, I can take care of myself. it wont be a long day, ill just grab some nyquil omw home and sleep it off. ill reschedule our rezo too, don’t worry about that. im really sorry again for canceling. if I could taste the food id still go lol.

Figuring that sounded at least relatively normal, Greyson hit send. He sat down at his desk once again and placed his head in his hands. No way he’s not pissed, Greyson thought, and he really believed it. In all his years of dating, he’d never met anyone who would respond that way; they’d at least have a snippy remark about the last-minute nature of the cancellation.

Greyson’s phone pinged once again, and he couldn’t help but grab it right away to assess the damage.

Reed

10:08AM

honey, please don’t apologize, seriously. youre sick, it happens, its no biggie :) I already moved the reservation to next week but if we need to ill move it again. james at emp said to tell you feel better btw.

Greyson blinked, dumbstruck. He started typing without thinking.

Greyson

10:10AM

you REALLY arent mad? seriously?

Reed

10:10AM

im really not mad. who gets mad at someone for being sick…? is someone at work mad at you? am I supposed to be mad..? lol

Greyson

10:11AM

I mean its a last minute cancellation. id understand if u were mad.

Reed

10:11AM

welllll….im not. is that ok? haha

Reed

10:15AM

grey…? you believe me, right?

Reed

10:21AM

greyson..?

Then – Seven Years Ago

He was moving through molasses.

Greyson placed a sluggish hand to his own forehead – you can’t check yourself for a fever, dumbass – and blinked painfully. He’d made it to work, he’d made it through the day, and he’d made it back home, against all odds. Now, he was stuck on his couch, unable to even crawl to the bathroom for a thermometer.

It had all compounded on him, was his guess. The endless fourteen hour days for the better part of two years at his thankless sous chef job. The shitty Chicago-suburbs apartment with no heat, where he froze for the few hours a week he slept. The near-constant drinking. Sure, he was only twenty-five, but what was it they said about this industry? It ages you in dog years. Yeah, that was it.

“Hh-! Hh...ITSZHH-ue! HTSHHH-ue!” Greyson sneezed helplessly into the blanket he’d wrapped around himself, and groaned. This was not what he’d imagined when he moved here from Minnesota. He’d thought it would be glamorous, working as a sous chef at a high-end hotel in a big city. He thought he’d have friends, or a girlfriend, or something. Instead, he was trapped on his couch, benched by a sinus infection and seasonal depression that seemed to last the whole year round. Fuck this, Greyson thought. He couldn’t get off the couch, but he could reach his phone; Greyson pulled up Indeed and changed his search parameters.

Actively searching for work. Location: Any.

Now

“Um… Chef? What’s, uh… what’s going on?”

Greyson paused for a moment, a crate of spoiled food held on his shoulder. He turned towards Matt, keen to answer, but instead held the crate tighter and wrenched to the side. “HRTTSHH-uh!”

“Bless you,” Matt said, an automatic reaction. Greyson nodded, turned towards the dumpster, and dumped the food in before beginning the cycle anew: pick up crate. Turn to sneeze. Dump old food. Matt wasn’t sure if he should help his boss, or go inside for backup.

He chose the former, picking a crate filled to the brim with rotten tomatoes off the ground and hoisting it into the trash. “You gonna tell me what’s up?” he asked as the two of them continued gathering and tossing.

Greyson sighed, pulled a hand down his face, and shook his head. “I thingk Reed and I are over,” he said, voice soft and throaty. Matt’s eyebrows shot up.

“What? Seriously? What did you do?” Matt asked, prompting a stuffy laugh from his boss.

“I just don’t thingk it’s going to work,” Greyson said, shrugging. “I… I don’t want to, like, play gambes. I can’t do that again, ndot after Collin.”

“Chef,” Matt said as he gathered and tossed the last milk crate, “what are you talking about? Reed is, like, the most straight-shooting guy I’ve ever met. How is he playing games?”

Greyson, left without anything to occupy his hands, just shrugged and pulled out his phone. He handed it to Matt without explanation, and the sous quickly read through the text conversation Greyson and Reed had going. Matt furrowed his brow.

“I don’t get it,” he said, handing the phone back. “He wants to take care of you, what’s the problem with that?”

“He doesn’t want to take care of me, he wants to have the upper hand,” Greyson explained, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and sitting on the step just outside the back door. “Want one?”

“Sure,” Matt said, sitting beside his boss. “I mean, you shouldn’t be smoking if you’re -”

“HTSHH! Hh-! ITZSHH-ue!” Greyson turned into his elbow, taking a long moment to gather himself before handing Matt his cigarette.

“-sick,” Matt finished. The older man shrugged, and Matt plucked the lighter out of Greyson’s hand to light both of them up, not daring to push his boss any closer to the edge. For a moment, they smoked in silence, only Greyson’s sniffles and coughs interrupting the quiet.

“Boss,” Matt said, finally, “I think you need to talk to Reed.”

“I did,” Greyson said, stubbing out his cigarette. “You saw.”

“No, I mean actually talk to him,” Matt said. The two of them stood, looking at each other – a face-off without the malice. Matt continued. “Not ignore his texts and clean out the walk-in.”

Greyson scoffed. “Matt, just because you have sombe fairy-tale love story doesn’t mbean everyone else does, too. Okay? If it’s over between me and Reed, it’s fine. I’mb better off alone, anywaa – hh! Hh… Hhhii-!” Greyson stood with his elbow poised at his face, stuck in pre-sneeze agony for what seemed like an eternity. While he was incapacitated, Matt took his phone and typed out a message that his boss couldn’t see. Finally, Greyson lowered his arm and sucked in, fruitlessly, through his nose. “The fugck are you doigg?” he asked, snatching his phone back from his sous.

“If you’re not going to talk to Reed,” Matt shrugged, unapologetic, “I will.”

Greyson looked down at his phone, which buzzed twice in his hand. Reed’s face popped up on the screen. Call from: reed <3

Then – Three Years Ago

“HTSHH! Huh! ETZSHH-ue! HRTTSHH-ue!”

“Bless, bless, bless you. Allergies?” Collin asked, not looking up from his phone. Greyson sniffled in vain, and coughed painfully.

“Ndot exactly,” he croaked from the doorway to Collin’s living room. “Baby, do you thingk you could drive mbe to urdent care, actually?”

Collin looked up and slowly raised an eyebrow. “For what?” he asked, obviously annoyed. Greyson swallowed as best he could and placed a hand on his throat.

“I thingk… I mbight have strep. Or bronchitis, or sombething. I, uh… I’ve had a fever for like. A week.” Greyson had to stop to close his eyes and grab onto the door frame, a sordid attempt to keep from hitting the floor like a rotten sack of potatoes. Collin rolled his eyes.

“You’re such a drama queen. You seemed fine when you came over last night.”

“You were asleep whend I came over,” Greyson said, his eyes still closed. “Did you ndot notice that I haven’t been over in like five days?”

Collin shrugged. “I mean, yeah, but I figured you were busy with work. You’re always busy with work,” he said, the venom in his voice making clear that he wanted to fight.

Greyson, physically incapable of fighting at that moment, just slid slowly to the ground and nodded. “Yeah. You’re right,” he said. “Ndow I’m paying the price. Please, baby. Can you please just take me? I… I really don’t feel well.”

It was pathetic. He knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself; he was fairly sure he was moments from passing out. Collin turned and made himself comfier on the couch.

“I’ll call you an uber,” he said, pressing some buttons on his phone. “You barely make time for me, and now you’re asking me to be your chauffeur? Please, Greyson.” He showed his ailing boyfriend the phone. “He’ll be out front in five minutes. Better make your way down.”

“Okay,” Greyson said, pulling himself slowly to his feet. “Thangk you.”

Collin didn’t say a word as Greyson let himself out of the apartment. He made it downstairs, and into the uber, and into the waiting room at urgent care. He made it out by himself, too, with a laundry list of prognoses – strep, sinus infection, walking pneumonia – and a handful of prescriptions. When he texted Collin later to fill him in, his boyfriend didn’t text back.

Greyson fell asleep on his shower floor and awoke to freezing water pounding on him, and a courier pounding on his door. When he toweled off and answered it, chicken soup from the local bodega and a note that read feel better -c sat at his feet. Greyson breathed a sigh of relief; at least he had been forgiven.

Now

Reed had dated plenty of men is his thirty-five years of life, and had found that there were two general categories when it came to sick men: there was the Baby, and there was the Don’t Look at Me.

Greyson though, an enigma since the moment they met, seemed to fall into a third category, a category that was, to Reed, yet undiscovered: the You Hate Me.

Reed was good with the first two categories; the Don’t Look at Me, you left medicine outside their room and texted them funny memes. The Baby, you laid in bed with them and spoon-fed them soup. Easy. Understandable. Truthfully, this was one of his favorite things about men: they were easy to crack. He figured Greyson would likely fall into the Baby category, which was fine by him – there was nothing he’d like more than to look after an ailing Greyson, to be honest. This third category he seemed to embody, though, was not something Reed knew what to do with.

“He didn’t answer when I called him,” Reed said into the phone receiver. “I just want to know what’s going on, I mean, did I say something wrong?”

On the other end of the line, Elijah sighed. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. This is just… it’s just Greyson being Greyson.”

Reed wasn’t about to take this lying down. “Hey, are you guys super busy tonight? I mean, I don’t want to be that boyfriend, but, like, can I come get him? We really need to talk, and if what Matt said is true he probably shouldn’t be, like, working anyway, right?”

While Elijah paused, Reed pulled the phone away from his ear and once again re-read the text Matt had sent from Greyson’s phone: hey reed, it’s matt. grey is sick as hell, so DO NOT take any of the crazy weird shit he says seriously, k? his temperature needs to lower by like 5 degrees before you do this, but u guys need to actually talk. he’s being stupid.

“Please,” Reed heard Elijah’s tinny voice on the other end and put the phone back to his ear. “Please, come and collect him. I’m begging.”

Reed stood from the couch and grabbed his keys. “Give me twenty minutes. I’m on my way.”

Then – Two Years Ago

“Heyyy, baby, cand I buy you a dringk?”

The girl leaned back, her face marked by disgust. “No, thanks. Save your money and get yourself some NyQuil,” she said, disappearing into the crowd. Greyson huffed out a sigh and coughed into his hand – a long, crackling sound that made the other bar patrons inch their chairs away.

“She’s right, you know,” the bartender – Skip, Greyson had learned his name was a few weeks back when he had started coming in every night – said, filling Greyson’s shot glass yet again. “You need to go home.”

“And yet you pour mbe another drink,” Greyson said, knocking back the shot. “The duality of mban. NGTXSH! HTSHH! Huh-! HRRSHH-ue!” Greyson covered his mouth lazily with one hand, wiped it on his pants, hand held the glass up to indicate ‘another’.

“Bless you,” Skip said, not pouring the shot. “Greyson, seriously: go home. You sound fucking awful.”

“Are you cutting mbe off?” Greyson asked, his rheumy eyes meeting Skip’s over the bartop. “Because unless you are, I’mb staying.” He coughed again, into his elbow; the cough was quickly becoming a problem. He’d had a cold two weeks ago; the symptoms had been mild, but the cough had hung around. When he caught whatever-the-fuck this was two days ago, the cough had turned from an annoyance to a pressing issue; he should go home. He should go to the doctor, he should take a day off, he should, he should, he should.

But he wouldn’t. He would stay, and he would drink until he was kicked out, then he’d pass out on the train and not make it home to sleep. He’d go to work at seven AM and stay until midnight and do it all again.

“I’m not kicking you out,” Skip sighed. “I’m just saying… you should take care of yourself.”

Greyson blinked slowly. He could feel his lungs, heavy with fluid, gearing up to cough again; his head, pounding in spite or because of the alcohol; his heart crushed into a million, Collin-sized pieces. Take care of yourself. It felt impossible, when you’d never been shown how.

“This is mbe taking care of myself,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll have another.”

Now

Greyson rested his head on a case of lettuce in the corner of the walk-in. He knew he should be continuing his madness of cleaning, but he’d accidentally sat down on his fifth trip into the refrigerator, and now he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get up again.

Fucking Reed, Greyson thought as he allowed the cold salad box to sate the fever he had burning in his brain. Why can’t he just be up front with me? If you’re mad just say it, don’t fucking torture me.

Perhaps deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous; Matt and Elijah were most likely correct. The simplest answer – that Reed truly was just a good guy – was probably the right one. But he just couldn’t get out of his mind all the times he’d reached out, needed help and asked for it, and been shot down. He certainly couldn’t allow himself to believe that the person he was dating was truly good; he knew he’d never deserve that.

“Greyson?”

Speaking of Reed, that sounded a lot like him – was Greyson hearing things? Had he, in his fever-addled state, conjured a hallucination of his boyfriend to have a fight with? Bizarre, Grey, he thought to himself. That’s really fucking bizarre.

“Grey? Elijah said you were in here but I don’t – oh!”

Either this was a really crazy hallucination, or that really was Reed standing over him, in the walk-in. Greyson blinked hard, then blinked again, and suddenly Reed was on the ground next to him.

“Babe...it’s really cold in here. Do you think we can, um, leave?”

Greyson furrowed his eyebrows together. “Leave… and go where?” he asked, his voice cracking. “I have to… work. What are you doigg heeee...HRTSHH-ue! Huh -! HTSHH! NTSHH! IGXTSH!” Greyson attempted to stifle over and over, until Reed gently took his hand and pulled it away from his face.

“That has to hurt,” Reed said, his voice quiet and calm. “You can just… sneeze, you know. Like, regular.”

“Tryigg ndot to get you,” Greyson croaked, his eyes glazing over once again. “Youbettermov – HRRETSZCHH-ue! ITSZZHH-ue! Fuck – NGTSHHZ-ue!” Greyson sneezed into his lap, then coughed until his lungs felt sore. Reed didn’t move; he came closer and rubbed Greyson’s back.

“Bless you, baby,” Reed said, eventually.

“Thangks. Sorry,” Greyson murmured, pushing his hair out of his face and turning to look at Reed. “Why are you here?” he asked, levity out the window.

Reed let out a little laugh. “Umm, why do you think?” he asked. “You’ve been ignoring me since this morning. I got worried, since Matt said you were super sick – no lie detected, by the way, you sound truly awful –”

“Sorry,” Greyson said again, wiping under his nose. “I kndow, it’s gross.”

“Please, Grey,” Reed said, taking both sides of his boyfriend’s face in his hands and looking him in the eye. “Please. Stop apologizing. It’s okay to be sick. I don’t understand why you think I’m angry at you. I’m not.”

Greyson swallowed, painfully, and gave a little nod. “Okay,” he said, finally.

“Okay,” Reed repeated. “Anyway. I called Elijah. He said to come and collect you.”

At this, Greyson couldn’t help but cough out a laugh. “Collect mbe?” he asked. Reed smiled a little.

“Yeah,” he said. “His words, not mine.”

They both laughed, softly at first, then ramping up to near-hysteria. They only stopped when Greyson started coughing again and couldn’t seem to stop.

“Let’s go get you some water,” Reed said, helping his boyfriend to his shaky feet. Greyson allowed himself to be pulled out of the walk-in, and given a bottle of water that was sitting on his prep station. Greyson drank until the fit subsided, then regarded Reed once again.

“So… you really aren’t mbad?” he asked, rubbing his goosebumped arms up and down. Reed shook his head and shrugged off his windbreaker. He draped it over Greyson’s shoulders.

“I’m really not mad,” he insisted. Greyson nodded, seemingly satiated. Reed sighed through his nose and slipped his arms around the chef.

“Life’s done a number on you, huh?” he asked, quietly enough that it could’ve just been to himself. Greyson huffed out a sad little laugh.

“Like you wouldn’t believe, baby,” he murmured, pressing his hot head into Reed’s hair. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

#whiskeyswriting #snz #sickfic #snzfic #coldfic #snzblr #snez #male cold #male snz #this was a fun one! #whump #h/c #but mostly hurt lol #i know it's a lot of dialogue. my apologies i just love to write dialogue and HATE to write exposition lol #which is Not Good Writing but whatever #this is my horn snz blog not my doctoral thesis lmao

[elastijubilee]

OMG *face palms so hard* I guess this is a rant.

As a musical movie lover, I am really frustrated that when I go to watch The Color Purple (2023) movie trailer the comments always show, no matter what channel I go to, and the one that always shows is something along the lines of "Ugh, LITERALLY nobody asked for a remake, nobody in Hollywood just completely out of ideas, lemme guess there's going to be tons of CGI." That last part made no sense to me...please stop writing comments after drinking an entire box of wine, Joann.

Anyway, it's very annoying that seems to be the comment at the top of every comment section, despite it not being the top liked comment by any means. I noticed this because I really wanted to share the trailer here for more engagement, but it's kinda annoying to hit a link for a trailer and immediately be hit with something negative.

I dunno maybe it's a mistake on the movie marketing team's part, to not actively show them singing and only play Fantasia in the underscore, because it seems some people think that it's a "remake" of the "original" movie. When in fact it is based off the stage musical, which a lot of people feel is closer to the book.

While I love the first movie, and Spielberg is my favorite director of all time, I know a lot of people who have always wanted another adaptation that felt more tonally in keeping with Alice Walker's story. A lot of them are black people. And this new film has a black director that some of them may feel either would be better or at the very least deserves his chance at taking a crack at the material. That's not me saying Spielberg shouldn't have directed the first one because he's not black, I'm not a subscriber to that kind of thinking (again fave director and there's nobody I would've rather seen direct West Side Story), especially when talking about a movie from over thirty years ago. I'm just saying that letting a person of the same ethnicity as the characters direct this version is important and something I respect.

Plus, Spielberg himself is producing! He's excited about this story getting told again! And as a musical lover of course he'd want to see this on film. Oprah, also part of the first movie's cast and produced the stage musical from the beginning, is also supporting this.

People who love the musical have been aware of this and waiting awhile. Glad to be called a nobody. Lots of people wanted it and actually knows what it is. It's been talked about a while by certain groups, it's not a secret, but these people have to pop up when the trailer drops to scream "reee-make!" It's not a remake, it's a readaptation based on an already existing musical that has been acclaimed. Not a remake.

I mean I understand not liking a lot of remakes or new adaptations, but I'm also not going to go spouting off about them vitriolically when I know nothing about them, especially the ginormous fact that it's a musical. Big ass difference from the first one. I also don't jump to conclusions about the quality being bad when the trailer shows no evidence of it being bad. Yes, there are some things I personally feel should be left alone and not used for a cash grab, however 1) this is not one of them 2) not every remake or new adaptation is bad. 2021 produced West Side Story, Nightmare Alley, and Dune, all of which were up for Best Picture. Guess what else they had in common.

Is The Color Purple 2023 going to be amazing? I don't know, it's not out yet. But the trailer looked good in my opinion and it's NOT A REMAKE.

I could write a whole thing about the problem with certain reboots or remakes being really bad, but the key would be either them missing the point of certain things or being rushed and lazy. Don't think that's the case here. And while we're on the topic I hate the "there's no original ideas in Hollywood anymore" narrative. First of all, nothing is wholly original, it's impossible. Second, of all there are hundreds of original movies or first time adaptations EVERY. SINGLE. YEAR. These people either only see the thing aggressively marketed to them and complain. Or purposely seek these things out and complain. I personally think it's weird to go out of your way to ignore a wealth of new material in the media but then refuse to see something related to something you already love because "original and old always = better." Plus, I wouldn't be surprised if most of these people don't even care about The Color Purple, they just like bitching and pushing a narrative. Obviously, I love old movies (not that the '80s are that old) but I don't think everything older is perfect and untouchable just by the virtue of being first.

I dunno I think these are all valid points and feel free to use them if you want to argue against these people lol.

#the color purple 2023 #the color purple movie musical #the color purple the musical #movie musicals #sorry im such a ranter sometimes :/ #im not that angry i just have a lot of thoughts and i think being able to explain your feelings well is important

[heavyhitterheaux]

I decided to document my reactions in my notes 😭 this is what I had to say while reading……..

Me realizing how far along she was, when he said she had three more months left: FIVE MONTHS?? His ass been acting like this FOR FIVE MONTH?!? Oh hell nah 🔪

When he called her crying: OH? OH? So now YOU WANNA CRY?? Where were you when SHE was crying?? Hmmm JACKMAN 🤨

When she got there & he started apologizing for his past actions: I’m still mad at yo ass and I REALLY WANT JESS TO WHOOP YO ASS🙄 but…..I love that your taking accountability for you action JACKMAN

When I saw the room: UGHHH I’m tryna be mad but that room 🥹 ITS SO FUCKIN CUTE!!!

When I read this: “I left the space over the crib empty so I could put her name there when we decided what it was. And I know you love elephants so I thought the theme made sense.” This whole thing…..🥹 BITCH IM CRYING

When I read this: “I just… I want the two of you to be close to me. I know we’re still repairing our relationship and everything and I know your condo isn’t far, but….. Would you be willing to move in with me?” I had a feeling that was coming, BUT IM STILL SHOOK, FLABBERGASTED! Ready to know what’s next 😭😩

REEE!! Omg u DO IT EVERY-TIME I LOVE YOUUU 🫶🏽😭

I hope you had an amazing day yesterday also, wether you celebrate Christmas or not!! 😘

Yesss he was acting like an entire ass for MONTHS smh

However, she didn't let Jess kill him... yet

He's taking accountability, but is it enough for her to move in with him?

Jess gets a hold of him in part 4 🤭🤭🤭

And yesss her room is adorable and he didn't sleep so he could finish it 😭😭

Thank you boo, I appreciate you 🥺💕

And yesss the rest is about to be WILD

#awhoereformore

[avallcnis]

speaking of yugioh though i’m crawling back onto my atem blog for the night so!

#he's my son who i love... #and i have a whole 12 ass icons after god knows how long doing them tonight reee #save me #·͙˚̩̥̩̥ ✧･ﾟFLOWER TALKS ━ ooc

[luvleekaotix-imagines]

Can’t believe it’s 2019 and my thirsty ass over here falling for dante AGAIN SMH.... i love this mess of a man..

Hahah SAME THO

I thought I was OVER THIS SILLINESS, REEE BUT THEY JUST MADE HIM MORE ATTRACTIVE??????? how dare they

everyone is so attractive

i can’t handle it

[shalandrassil]

🌄: GO TO BED (And all the positive ones, I guess. :P)

NO >:^)

We’re both in this together Kat, both of our sleep schedules are messed up, now you HAVE to deal with me HAHA.

But in all seriousness, and I didn’t get to say this in my ask bc I have emotional constipation I think- and I said this is gchat already but dude I missed you a bunch, even if we’re not as close as some of your friends, I consider u a close friend. You and my boyfriend are the only two people I can go to events with and stay for the whole time because I feel comfortable.

I’m happy we were able to talk through our issues the few times we’ve disagreed, I’m not the most mature person on the planet (re: v immature) :v, and I’m hella glad you’re back, dude. We both had a difficult year if I’m being honest and when you say your brain is a dick that’s the fattest mood on the whole ass planet.

We may not always agree but seeing your content cross my dash is always really great, especially when you’re talking about Sylrin because I can tell you’re really excited to write him and ur passion shows and I :U can’t contain my love for your writing or your characters because your creativity knows absolutely no bounds, lore police be damned. I always love sharing scenes with you and would love to continue once I stop ghosting the whole community like an idiot reee ;0; since I went from having an afternoon class to an 8am class I wake up real early in the morning and go sleep at like 11am so now im like Never Available rip.

anyways me love u

#Ard Answers #this turned out way longer than i thought it would but my love needs more than a paragraph to express i am an extra bitch

[virgoes]

i love ur hair omg do you have any favorite hairstyles and pics of u with them?? i just love the colors you do to it

REEE ILY ty i grew it myself 😌😌 tbh 80% of the time my hair is down & the other 20 is like braids or low pony but these colors were my faves !

i Cant choose like 3 so heres a vain ass post . the hella edited one is me w puke green ends lmaoooo

#shorter hair is from HS omg baby me #ultimatelyyy blue purple light pink prob wins but blues DO NOT leave hair #anon #ask

[foxxygold-blog]

South Park High School Jokester

So I’ve had this story up and running on my quotev but I’d figure I’d post it here. It’ll update every Saturday whether no one reads it or not so bite me. If you do read it, I hope you enjoy. This story broke me out of like a 10-year artist block/depression.

I didn’t draw, I didn’t write, I didn’t do anything because I just hated myself so much and thought I wasn’t good enough. But you know what? If anyone tells you you’re bad at something? Tell them to eat your cheeks. The best way to get better at something is practice and hard work. Post that fanfiction, post that OC, no matter marry sue or not. Someone out there, whether it's good or not, is GOING to like it or is GOING to want to help you improve.

Anyway, enjoy the prologue.

                                                         Prologue

               Tapping and swinging your foot to the timing of your upbeat music, you watched the trees fly by as you sat in the passenger’s seat beside your mother. Your headphones were practically shaking as they sat over your ears, the volume set to the maximum level. You quietly looked down at your phone’s screen, pressing the power button and reading the title of the current song and began bobbing your head to the beat. Your mother couldn’t help but sigh, tapping her finger against the steering wheel while driving. How many times had she told you to not listen to your music so loudly? It was a small surprise to suddenly hear you singing along loudly to the music, dancing in the seat while yelling the lyrics in happiness.

               “We go hard, till you get it, get it. We go hard, we so in it, in it,” You yelled. You shook your shoulders to the beat of the song, rubbing the funk off in your seat. Why were you stuck entertaining yourself in the car? Well, it was because of the cliché of moving to a new town because the author couldn’t think of a better way to start this story. You were moving too South Park, a place you had never been too. A change of pace wasn’t exactly a scary thing to you, you just hated that you had to leave behind some good friends from your old home. It wasn’t like you weren’t ever going to see them again however; there was Discord, Skype, plenty of platforms for you to still communicate to your past friends.

               As you felt the car pull to a stop, your mother suddenly grabbed one side of your headphones and carefully pulled it up so you could hear the outside world.

               “We’ve made it, so you better get to unpacking the car,” she spoke. You nodded your head once she let go of your gear and you shoved your phone into your back pocket as you climbed out of the car. You grabbed your purse and slug it over your shoulder before shutting your door and making your way to the back as your mom popped the trunk. You began humming to your music as you grabbed a few decorative items for the home and a box with your books.

               As the two of you unpacked the car and pulled heavy boxes out carefully one by one, you got a good look at the house. As you first walked into the house, you entered the living room, attached to that was an open kitchen, giving it an open concept. Close by the front door was a set of stairs that lead up. You could only assume the bedrooms and bathrooms, if there was more than one, was up there. With a shrug of your shoulders, you trudged upstairs and looked around, opening door after to door in order to find your bedroom. Luckily, the walls were white, making it easy for you to want to paint them if you wanted a change of color. Other than that, the room was really void of any personality. You couldn’t wait to spice this bitch up. You walked over to your bed and sat down on it, boxes covering most of the floor and walls. Looking at each scribble of words on the box, you found the one that had “Electronics” written on it and smiled; pulling out an old stereo system your mother had given you and set it up on your bed, plugging it into the nearest outlet and setting up your phone.

               “Oi! (Y/N) the neighbors want to meet you! They even offered to help with the last of our boxes,” your mother called. With a sigh of dread, you stood from your bed and almost grabbed the door handle before pausing, an awful idea forming in your head.

               When your mother didn’t receive a reply, she turned to the guests currently in your new home and gave a nervous smile.

               “I’m so sorry about this if you’d like you can come up there with me to see her. She’s normally very polite and comes down to meet the guests.” Your mother gave a nervous laugh before currently cursing you in the back of her mind. Just once couldn’t you be a normal adult? Not once had you acted normal when meeting new people. You either let your social anxiety control you or your anti-anxiety medication. Both outcomes could be, very annoying.

               The older blonde woman standing with her current husband and son just smiled and waved her hand dismissively.

               “Oh it’s no problem at all; I’m sure none of us mind and would love to meet her!” Your mother gave a quick nod and had no problem leading them to the stairs. Halfway up, she could hear the music playing in your room softly, and knew something was up.

               “mou sonnan ja hora,” the song continued. You quickly pulled on your squid hat that had the red, tired eyes and quickly broke open the box written “gag toys” on them and pulled out two large fake bongs and clambered onto the top of your bed.

               “Kokoro wa shinka suru yo,” you could hear the door rattling as your mother tried opening it.

               “Motto motto.” Right as the door swung open, you jumped off and landed on the floor in a deep crouch as the beat in the song dropped the base boosted version playing. It felt as if the entire house was shaking from how loud the current song was playing and it didn’t help that you had decided to download and play the ear rape version of it as a meme. You could hear the young man screaming in fright as you shook around the fake bongs while screaming “REEE” as the house continued to shake as if an earthquake was going off.

               You couldn’t hear what the couple was saying, but they ushered themselves and their son out of the house quickly as the music continued on. You danced in your little crab-like position, continuing to shake the bongs before your mother stormed over and unplugged your stereo.

               “We haven’t even been here for more than a few hours and you’re scaring the neighbors off by just, by being you!” Your mother yelled, stomping her foot as you carefully stood up and placed the toys and hot on your bed. You gave a roll of your eyes before smiling.

               “Come on mom, if they’re nice people and they’re willing to get to know us then they’ll come back over again to talk to us and won’t be scared off by something I did. Though, the blonde boy looked like he pissed his pants as his parents ran off with him,” you snickered. With an exasperated sigh, your mother stormed off to go continue unpacking her own room. You giggled and chuckled to yourself at the amazing joke you just pulled off and looked out the window, seeing the family just now entering the house right across the street from you. With a few taps of your fingers, you calmed down from your overwhelming joy and just thought to yourself, wondering if they would actually come back.

               Deciding it wasn’t something worth moping over; you went back to unpacking your bags. An occasional anime poster was hung on one wall while a band poster was hung on another. You need to seem somewhat normal to outdo your own ridiculousness. A small stuffed rabbit you had been given when you were born was placed upright on your dresser carefully, smiling as you remembered how simple being a child was. But now, being a high schooler in their junior year, nearing senior?! It was crazy. It didn’t help that you didn’t even get to finish your junior year, but the situation with your stepfather just, wasn’t working out and you and your mother knew it was for the best if you decided to leave, but that meant packing up during winter break, and leaving right after new year’s, leaving you almost no time to enjoy the holidays. You picked up your phone from where it had been resting connected to the stereo and checked your calendar. You had about three days left of winter break to just relax, but knowing your mother it would be spent looking around the town and getting to know your neighbors, which you thought was pointless.

               Clearing off your bed with a quick shove of some half and completely empty boxes, you tossed yourself onto the bed and decided to scroll through social media in order to pass the time.

               Yeah, getting to know people was going to be a pain in the ass.

The first song is KDA from League fo legends, the second song is this one: but it’s really loud, and I mean REALLY LOUD.

#Reader insert #South park reader insert #south park #Butters Stotch #Linda Stotch

[apprentice-nylah]

So I have the upright ending. At some point, I may do a different playthrough to try to get the reversed ending, but this post will just be about Book XX from the upright ending viewpoint. As usual, I only play Nadia's route.

- So we left off with Nadia maybe wanting to fucking kill Lucio. Which I know some ppl were like that’s not... like... a good thing but I was just like. DO IT

- But of course, she won’t actually do it. 

- Rip, not worth the effort. 

- Hierophant and Valerius wanting her to is like.. lol. 

- You’re right, it wouldn’t erase the past, unfortunately. 

- Yas queen. Don’t give him that validation

- lol banished. reee

- c u boi

- Both are prob pertinent questions but “How will he get back to the real world?”

-  Yeah, “not our problem” was what I thought she’d say lol. 

- yeee you’re free of him queeeeen

- DO I KNOW THAT MEANS???? I KNOW WHAT I WANT IT TO MEAN

- YAAASSSS!!!!

- OF COURSE IM FUCKING SAYING YES

- I still don’t like you much Valerius but I’m in such a good mood I’ll be ok with you for now

- yikes

- the beans. That reminds me of cabbage man in Avatar/Korra

- Portia wanting to fight Valerius is so cute

- I’d pay to see her beat him up, just for the lols

- Parents 

- meeting her parents ;0000

- Interesting art. They already look intimidating asf

- a worm. great

- Namar & Nasrin. Her parents names

- “No time, Attack

- Also yes agree, I’m so sick of worms

- I like Namar. 

- Also, it seems like Prakra is a female-led country or at least that you can’t marry into being “king” since Namar is royal consort. Tbh that makes sense if its female-led, given how independent Nadia and her sisters are. 

- Also, new music. I likey

- NAHARA

- LOL fighting Vulgora, kicking his ass too by the looks

- ruining plans to rule the world smh

- YAS I”M FUCKING READY. TIME TO DE-DEMON YOU

- “try something else” 

- “is everyone alright?”

- Nadia pls

- “let me take care of you too” plssss

- embarrassed nadia is cute asf too not that she isn’t all the time anyway

- you can’t fucking blame me for worrying. i wana marry u!!!

- healing magic. is that new or...

- you pay me back by loving meeeee

- fuck ye i’ll accept kisses

- w0w she can actually use magic too. i guess i didn’t think that she could, though it certainly makes sense she can given her connection to the high priestess

- ye i’m about to fuck u up too valdemar

- “so many days ago.” it seems so much longer than that but i guess in game time, it really hasn’t been long

- Is Valdemar the oldest of them? 

- dry yet wet ok...

- oh vlastomil. to be honest, he’s not half bad looking when he’s human lol

- ugh I want to unbind them kinda, but idk how that’s gunna go, so for now we’ll put them in jail.

- tarot deck pls

- aw justice, wasnt that one of the ones we freed?

- TAKE CARE OF THEM

- aw muriel, you do care

- ;0000 they kiss!

- aw all her sisters are loving her and complimenting her

- “its no big deal...”

- did i say i like namar

- “get to know the new family!”

- MY FIANCE *swoon*

- a sanctuary for senior dogs lol

- Navara and Nahara, obv

- baba, which is chinese for father so... is that a hint?

- ugh i still cant get over hearing Nadia gush about us

- of course... 

Aite fuckers. I’m soooooo fucking high that Nadia proposed! honestly as long as I got that, anything else that happened in book XX is just extra. Anyways so it seems like the last book is defeating the Devil. Also, if we don’t get a wedding book or something, I’m going to idk, sue. 

I love Nadia’s dad. He’s so chill. Her mom’s art kinda is intimidating, but i like her too. 

Asra and Muriel ending up maybe together is also awesome. I said in the past that even tho Asra supports the apprentice whatever route you’re in, it still feels a little weird to get in a relationship with someone else given the relationship with Asra in the past and I think those two getting together helps aliviate some of that. 

I believe the world is next? 

And last. So we get the end of the Devil and what I’m hoping will be their wedding or something. Anyways, like I said, I’m super stoked. And I hope Asra and Julian stans were as good. 

I may do a replay this weekend to get the reversed ending and do another post about it. 

#the arcana #the arcana spoilers #nadia satrinava #nadia spoilers #guys i'm so stoked

[armpitnoodlejuice]

My Professor

told us that in order to really be helpful to our clients well

we have see them

I mean really see them in the light of the situation they speak of

I MEAN REALLY SEE THEM

So my Prof is a sex therapist. Told us that we have a very closed mind towards who we think our clients will be

She said you’re going to have everyone talking to you about their sex life 

Who is everyone?

everyone is: old..., no not just 60s,,,90s too, fat, skinny, bald, hairy, legs no legs, schizophrenic, bipolar, autistic, rich, homeless, on hospice, clear skin, no skin, foreskin, high blood pressure, HIV, Herpes, blind, 2 eyes, no eyes, 4 eyes little butt, big butt, little man, tall lady, pretty to pretty ugly. Everybody  ERRRR reee BOD DY

She was right- I thought my pornhub selection was pretty diverse but no 

I was very wrong.  

My homework over the semester was to watch everybody have sex

The goal was to desensitize us to whatever makes us feel some type way or to what we don’t think is possible.

It would be different if I got to pick who from what section, from what site, but no clips, excuse me the educational pornography was selected by the Professor 

And I am happy she picked them cuz I know for darn sure. I would have been awfully biased in my selection and most likely because my ass loves scripted reality tv---- I would not have clicked on the amateur videos. 

I can’t wait to get a call from my parents and have them ask how grad school is going

oh ma, oh pa...great

come over for dinner they’ll say

I’ll say: no no sorry, I’ll be busy all week watching a 97 year- old women squirt. They’ll be like WHAT! 

Then I’ll be like: I know..I know mother I didn’t think it was possible. The libido lives on! You have hope.

I think it’s time I make a new blog called something....grad school chronicles

or path to shirkage....shrinkhood.....

the nellster must ponder 

[fapangel]

And not all the grandstanding assholes popping a squat and taking a big shit on our symbol of national unity? || Well that's the thing, isn't it? These men have the opportunity to make their voice heard in a way very few other citizens can. Whatever else the Anthem is, it is ALSO a symbol, and the primary purpose of all symbols of all kinds is to communicate something, something in itself, something in the way it's presented, and something in how we interact with it.

But it’s not a symbol of anything they say it is - it’s most certainly not a symbol of racism - and more important, it’s a symbol of the values that underpin our nation’s social contract. The last time people got a real strong opinion about that contract having failed them, we had a Civil War that killed millions of Americans. This isn’t a fucking joke, nor is it  “just a political statement.” This is serious business. 

And while we’re at it, these very public, very wealthy men with thousands upon thousands of devoted fans following them on Facebook and Twitter and such have immense opportunities to exercise their Freedom of Speech and make A Statement. They can do it off the field, and they can most certainly do it without wiping their ass with America’s name. They have a right to freedom of speech, sure, but I’m starting to think that I was misguided to defend their right to do it on the field. Even James Damore, the “evil misogynist” at Google didn’t go and make public shitfits about anything - he was discussing company-relevant business (and he took pains to point out why it was financially relevant to the company,) on an internal message board, meant for use by company employees only. The document was passed to outsiders and used to orchestrate a campaign of slander and lies against the man to enforce a political narrative. James Damore himself never decided to make a big fucking public stink from his workplace, like these NFL players are doing. 

Freedom of Speech is much, much more than a legal prescription on what the government can and cannot censor - it’s a core principle and value of our democratic and open society. And for that reason it’s vitally important that our culture preserve an inherent respect for it, and that, by necessity, requires us to always resist a knee-jerk “THAT’S NOT THE APPROPRIATE PLACE FOR SPEECH, YER THE WEAKEST LINK, VOTED OFF THE ISLAND!” in response to every statement we don’t like. 

But.

With that said.

You had better understand that Colin Krinkledick and the rest aren’t just offending a lot of people, they’re royally pissing them off. His act of “speech” isn’t some “quiet, thoughtful protest.” It’s an extremely deliberate and savage slander against the symbol of America itself, and that means a hell of a lot to some of us. Colin is free to say whatever he wants, but if he does it on TV, on the clock, while people who paid thousands of dollars for tickets to the event are looking on, and he’s using that time and opportunity to insult the flag many Americans loved ones died to protect, the flag many Americans had handed to them in a triangle fold by a solemn man as they stood at their father or brother or son’s graveside, then you had best fucking expect people to get fucking angry. 

I’ve had this conversation once already. When I mentioned Damore, the reply was a pretty flippant one, “oh yeah, that misogynist saying women were inferior, I don’t have much sympathy for him.” At the time the inaccuracy of the statement is what pissed me off - Damore said no such thing, as anyone who read the damn document itself can attest to, but in retrospect there’s always an alternative facts issue of some degree inherent in this stuff, and its only through collision that it’s reconciled. But now what strikes me the most is the seeming lack of equal consideration, of empathy. It’s okay to dismiss Damore - he was misogynist, he had it coming, he said things that really pissed off women. But this same conversationalist was rather upset with the knee-jerk reee of the right-wingers that were trampling over the concept of freedom-of-speech, because they were letting their angry emotions speak first, instead of their principles. 

Well, try to remember that it works both ways - and in case you haven’t figured it out yet, protesting the anthem and the flag makes a lot of Americans really fucking angry. So don’t be terribly surprised when a lot of them don’t stop to explore the deep and significant Principles behind it and just run straight to Twitter to tell you to GO FUCK YOURSELF. 

[onlywayleftisup]

listening to this great ass OST that i love  and i was like ‘’hey itd be hilarious if riverfire had a sibling called hellfire’’

if riverfire, like his name, is calm yet able to unleash destruction if he so wills, then hellfire would be uncontrollable chaos and unchecked rage, consuming everything in his path.

but eh i dont think rivers would like having a sibling and his kind is reportedly extinct, but it was an interesting thought to entertain HAHA. i dont think i can fit anymore DNkids into my current storyline anyway reee  

#dn #riverfire #ripper #my smol boi #who needs to be protected at all cost #there are few DNkids who deserve utmost protection #due to their young age #and innocence #those kids are #fjura (16) #riverfire (15) #ro hongyin (13) #hmm varia is 14 but hes pretty matured so he can take care of himself #no protection for u

[nanoisglitra]

the peptalk of a century

You been lounging in a 12 by 12 all your life

Finally been liberated from everybody else’s problems and this is how you go out?

You gonna give up now?

every opportunity, you wasted

All your previous energy spent on others

Now that you are liberated,

Listen to what I said,

Now that you have the strength to put in the work,

ARE YOU GOING TO FOLLOW THROUGH?

Cause I been watching you for the past week

I been watching you lay on your ass in woe is me and jealously

Are you going to work hard?

OR

are you going to sit by the sidelines and watch everyone else move while you stay stuck in the same place you’ve been in for the past 4 years?

Are you going to play chess or checkers?

Are you the checkmate or the defining puzzle piece?

Rina,

Nano,

Uzio,

Riri,

Reee,

R^2,

Can you hear me?

What are you going to do now?

What do you really want from life?

What is your motivation?

Can you hear me?

Are you going to stay stagnant, flatlined?

My conscience - I heard you loud and clear. I’m awake. I’m really awake this time. I heard your concerns, I know I’ve been accepting weakness, I know I haven’t been my best, but I’ve been building ammo. I heard you loud and clear. But I’m not apologizing to you, we both know I needed to heal. We both know I’m back.

Can the real Rina stand up please?

Hello? I’m here.

Who are you?

My name is Rina. Meaning joy of music. Meaning beauty in its pure form. A Jesus worshipper. A spiritual woman. A conscious woman, a proactive woman. A woman who loves to create poetry, who loves art. A woman who sees herself as worthy and valuable like everyone else on the planet. A woman who never settles for less. A woman who smiles at rainbows and children. A woman who loves herself. A woman who is love.

What other validation do you need my conscience?

Welcome back ———— it’s been 14 years.

[luvleekaotix-imagines]

okay i have some fuCKING notes about this FUCKING Retribution event:

did reyes just say he wanted to sneak in as a FUCKING BAND. REYES. WHAT THE FUCK MY DUDE. UR SO FUCKING LAME ITS ADORABLE you cape loving fuckkkk

Mccree is a fuCKING GOOD BOY OKAY. HE IS A GOOD BOY.

he’s also TERRIBLE at customer service??? ??? HE fucked up an undercover mission because HE YELLED AT A LADY. BECAUSE SHE DESERVED IT APPARENTLY. yoU FUCKIN TELL EM MCCREE.

moira doesn’t even care. she’s literally the coolest cucumber. she knows the teams shenanigans. Shes just like ‘oh. this is happening. okay.’

genji is just ???????????? mom, dad, i don’t wanna be here.

I feel like the Blackwatch pilot is like *this* close to being done with everyone’s shit. Like, GET IN THE FUCKIN DROPSHIP YOU FUCKS. Sass me again and I’ll TURN THIS FUCKING SHIP AROUND and you can GET YOUR OWN DUMB ASSES HOME. What’s the bet they pilots play ‘rock paper scissors’ or like toss a coin or some shit to pick who has to go? “Ahhh shit they need help” “I went last time, it’s your turn” “I haven’t recovered from the last TWO TIMES” “be a blackwatch pilot they said, it’ll be fun they said.” etc

more notes to come possibly reee

#overwatch #i fucking hate myself #i can't control emotions at all #it just taKES OVER MY DUDES #WHAT