will they ever debut flu game or so good right now. just wondering
70 notes
·
View notes
this is my first time being online during a show and i feel like i've lifted up a rock to find a whole subculture of bugs that i didn't know were there except it's swifties liveblogging tour
92 notes
·
View notes
bought a giant bottle of cheap champagne to christen my new coupe glass while i officially start packing all my shit up to move in less than 3 weeks weeeeee 🍾
37 notes
·
View notes
The things we leave behind are often thought of as irrelevant- it's not what we leave behind, but who. I would argue, however, that what we leave can say much about how we lived, which leads me onto my point: what did Jon and Martin leave behind?
By the end neither of them really had many belongings. Martin might've had a flat during season 4 but the chances of him keeping it or anything in it when moving to the safe house are quite slim. At the point of moving there they each had all they'd be able to carry on a train to Scotland, not leaving much space for sentimentality.
But when the apocalypse started how much of this would survive? The cabin was the epicentre of the change, would anything there really last in a meaningful way, return to normal? But of course they did take some things with them.
Martin jokes about the bandages turning into snakes, so clearly they've had issues with some of their own belongings changing based on domains, so even what was valuable enough to bring with them could have been discarded.
Everything that survived the journey with them would have ended up in their makeshift home of the tunnels under the institute. No doubt it ended up spread out through their shared space, a homely mess, but as we all know there was no chance that it would ever last.
As the institute crumbled and Jon bled in Martin's arms they were lost, evidence of their existence crushed and broken down to dust; but not all of it. Passed off to Basira, abandoned in a location that somehow survived.
One golden lighter with a spiderweb design, and one tape recorder loaded with the last conversation of Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood. Their remains.
126 notes
·
View notes
I never get why people are so hung up on me cutting my own hair (or, generally, any significant hair cut) like. It is hair. It will grow. That is kind of Its Thing. Why are you acting like I’m doing experimental heart surgery in my bathroom
13 notes
·
View notes
Oh god.
This summer you sent our mutual friend a package, to get to me. An heirloom, a bit of camp history. Passed down to me.
And on that package, your phone number and address. Your phone number, that I had long deleted from my phone because the urge to call you was always too strong.
When I last saw you in person, you said that when you finally moved to the city it would be with your girlfriend. You would move in together. And surely, she would become your fiancee and then your wife.
There it is. On the package. Your new address, in the city.
I have to keep myself from calling you right now. You probably have my number blocked, and I truly don't know what I'd do if you answered. But I would give anything to hear your voice again.
Even if it's just you saying, "Hello? Who is this?" While her voice is in the background, asking you what you want for dinner.
At this point, I don't even need to be the voice in the background asking what you want for dinner.
I just wish I could be the voice on the other end of your phone call.
10 notes
·
View notes
I’m trying to doodle Starscream and I’m like. Shaking. I never imagined I’d get anxiety rushing through me when all I’m trying to do is draw my comfort characters again. If this wasn’t destroying my life I’d find this almost funny
20 notes
·
View notes
I think all Jellylorums should be having a little nap with her head on Gus’ shoulder during “The Moments of Happiness” strictly for my own serotonin purposes.
41 notes
·
View notes