therandomfandomgal-insta

[therandomfandomgal-insta]

thoughts on the friendzone

when i was 5 years old my best friend was a boy named kyle who didn’t know how to knock on doors so he made dinosaur noises outside my window to wake me up in the summer until i demonstrated how to ball his fists and slam them against my doors.  we collected caterpillars in my trailer park and built them houses while we traded pokemon cards.  he wasn’t the only one.  there was ben, and mitch, and noah—but kyle’s the only one who hurt me, because when he tried to kiss me and i asked him why, he told me “because you’re a girl and i’m a boy, shouldn’t we like each other?”

i missed him so much and i wondered why he couldn’t just be my friend like he always was

in the first grade there was rich and joseph and i got sent to detention with them almost every day with a smile on my face.  we built block towers and sang to my teacher’s lion king soundtracks when she’d turn the lights off during lunch time.  one day they got in a fist fight over me at recess, and i wondered why they felt they needed to share my friendship, like it was something they owned.

in the second grade zach and i played yu gi oh under our desks during free time and i got moved for talking to him constantly.  everyone in the class would tease him and i for talking, asking when we were going to date already, asking him if he’d kissed me, and he stopped being my friend.

when i was 11 i met a chubby boy with the name of a colour who wore puffy vests and unwashed t-shirts, with greasy hair and bright blue eyes and a smile that hid hurt behind it.  people didn’t like him because he was silly, but i liked him, because i was also silly.  he became my friend the day he bought me 5 giant roses and asked me to be his girlfriend, and i politely declined but promised him i’d be his best friend because i’d always wanted a best guy friend that stuck around. we burnt our feet on the concrete during the summer and walked home with the sunset silhouetting us.  he talked often about how he loved me, but never blamed me for being me, even though he refused to move on. that boy dyed his hair jet black and sat on the end of my bed playing songs to me on guitar, and all that pent up rage from before didn’t show until the first time he slapped me across the face and called me a dumb cunt.

in the 7th grade there was a boy named ryan who sat next to me on the bus and talked to me about manga.  he’d ask me personal invasive questions but i didn’t mind because it was attention and i liked attention.  i was dating another guitarist with curly brown hair, one who was much more kind-tempered than the other, and ryan mentioned how much of an asshole he was every day.  i wondered, why, why does he think the love of my life is an asshole?  but whenever i asked him, he just told me, “girls only date assholes.  there’s no room for nice guys like me.”

i wondered, if he was so nice, why did he say such mean things?

he never stopped with me, taking me to movies, hanging out with me, you know.  being friendly.  i thought we were friends.  but then, how many times had i thought that before?

how many times had i bonded with a boy, thought they got me, only for them to ask me if i wanted to make out?

how come when i told ryan i was coming out as a lesbian, he stopped being my friend, and said “damnit, the one girl i really want to pound into a mattress, and she’s only interested in chicks!”

there was a boy my junior year who stayed up all night with me until the sun rose, talking about life, past loves, hopes, dreams.  beneath a million twinkling stars spanning forever, he brushed long brown hair out of his eyes and listened to me talk about the history that made me. then he asked me if i’d ever consider dating a guy, and complained about how he’d never get laid.

when i told him no a couple hundred times, he found new girls to listen to.

i would sit on the couch and play zelda with dakota, and he’d talk about all my favourite games with me.  he was the closest thing to support i had, and the letters and poems he wrote me were always so kind and friendly.  but he’d put his arms around me on the couch, and no matter how many times i told him i was uncomfortable, he’d still come over every day and do it.

“don’t you know how it feels to love someone and not have them love you back?  don’t you know what it feels like to be friendzoned?”

when i meet guys who talk about the friendzone, who talk about the girls who don’t give “nice guys” like them i chance, i always want to just say

when i was 10 years old i met a girl whose brown hair fell across her shoulders and whos eyes sparkled when the sunlight hit them, whose voice was like velvet and whose scent was like mountain smoke, who made me dizzier than a fly climbing a sugar hill.  and i’m 18 years old, and i still love her, and she knows, and she doesn’t love me.

but my first thoughts upon hearing her rejection were not “what a bitch,” were not “she just wants a douchebag and not a nice girl like me!” were not “im going to keep pushing her until she dates me,”

they were

“she is the best friend i have ever had, and i am the best she’s ever had, and i would hate to take that away from her.”

so before you play the victim, mr. Nice Guy, before you angrily throw your fedora on the ground and blame the girl you claim to adore so much:

put yourself in the shoes of a girl who thought she made a wonderful friend, only to find out that he just wanted her for sex.  that he just wanted her for a relationship.  a girl who was just an object to win, a prize.  a girl who’s trust you’ve just shattered.

maybe she friendzoned you.  but you girlfriendzoned her, first.

[therandomfandomgal-insta]

I post for the bitches that used to get in trouble for reading under the desk during class in elementary school

[therandomfandomgal-insta]

Because sometimes we all just need to see a guy head-bump a beautiful Beluga whale

[therandomfandomgal-insta]

Me_irl

[therandomfandomgal-insta]

idle Jaskier-related notion:

Joey Batey is really approximately the same size and shape as Henry Cavill, and there are a number of clever techniques in pretty much all Jaskier's costumes to hide this fact and make him look about three or four inches narrower than he actually is. The costumers work really really hard to make him look that twinky, often with cleverly cut shoulder decorations that pretend he's trying to look bigger than he is and have the actual effect of making him look a lot lighter.

On a Doylistic level this makes sense, because it's hard to make Geralt look Huge and Imposing next to your non-combatant harmless sidekick if said sidekick is a jacked six foot burly man.

On a Watsonian level, however, the notion of Jaskier as this big meaty dude aggressively arguing with all his tailors to ensure that he looks as non threatening and foppish and entertaining as possible while also looking as sexy as he can (for a Jaskier definition of sexy, at least) is generating considerable entertainment for me this fine morning.

[therandomfandomgal-insta]

An artist : Aw man! I saw my arts were reposted on Instagram. I’ve asked them to take my arts down but they ignored me.

Me : Say no more! Click this link, then click ‘fill out this form’. Fill the form and wait for about 1-2 days, the staffs will remove the image you were reporting from the reposter’s account :^)

[therandomfandomgal-insta]

🐾 Stolen kisses and shared detachment 🦊 🥍

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Thank you so so much @the-real-alicat-blog for commissioning this piece from me!!! YOU’RE LITERALLY SO SWEET AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.

this wonderful human literally commissioned Andriel from me after reading the books for me and then proceeding to listen to me rant for like an hour about how much I wanted to draw them. Ugh. I love you so much friend. Seriously 🥺❤️

[therandomfandomgal-insta]

the idea of nicky bombarding the rest of the monsters with like "yas mama pussy queen slay boots the house down queen" talk to be ironic LITERALLY makes me laugh so hard. because he'd do it, with impeccable comedic timing, and the upperclassmen would die every time. oh my god, i can't get it out of my head.

aaron would just sigh and grimace every time. andrew would be so caught off guard the first few times that it would literally show on his face; the first time the upperclassmen see it they die. kevin and neil would each be so utterly confused the first couple times because it sounds like absolute gibberish to them what's so funny?? they don't get it at all? after a few times they still don't get it but they've gotten used to it. kevin reacts similarly to aaron except with more disgust than disappointment; neil, on the other hand, just plays along, because why not? it makes everyone laugh, it makes nicky happy, and it annoys andrew so much.

nicky: yas queen, slay the boots down mama!

neil: yeah, i'm trying to. thanks. :)

nicky: werk, queen! we love!

neil: thanks, i love you too, nicky. do you want me to call you queen too?

nicky: that's sweet, love, but no. it would sound like a slur. :)

then, one day:

nicky: *makes a good play, has some small accomplishment, etc*

neil, smiling softly: slay!

and with that, he single-handedly sent every one of the foxes to the moon

[therandomfandomgal-insta]

andreil cuddling with King Fluffkins and Sir Fat Cat McCatterson 🐱

do not repost | instagram

[therandomfandomgal-insta]

i condone and support every single vile deed my problematic faves have done. not only that i think they should have done bigger and worse atrocities than already committed. i think that would have been funny

#lady macbeth

[therandomfandomgal-insta]

neil at the beginning of tfc

[therandomfandomgal-insta]

Andrew “criminal justice major” Minyard is assigned a paper on modern crime family behaviours. He hands in a diary about Neil.

7:45: the last remaining wesninski eats a bowl of Cheerios

8:02: the butcher jr leaves his dishes in the sink instead of washing them like I asked

[therandomfandomgal-insta]

You know what I'm a slut for? When a character visibly drops a ruse. Like, the way their face changes the moment they give up a facade and reveal themselves.

This applies to revealing love, apathy, anger, evil intent. I mcfuckin love it.

[therandomfandomgal-insta]

Neil dug his phone out of his jeans pocket with his free hand and stuffed it into the netted end pocket of his duffel. [...] Neil dropped his racquet and let his bag get ripped from his shoulder. Andrew and Kevin knew he'd never let go of these things willingly. It wouldn't tell them where he'd gone, but they'd know he hadn't left them by choice.

This is how Neil left behind everything that had bound him to “Neil Josten” that is.

But you know what he couldn't get rid of?

He was okay with leaving his racquet, therefore exy, the sport he would die for, and his duffel, the thing that fit everything he owned inside, behind.

(later in the car) He traced the outline of a key into his bloody, burnt palm with a shaky finger, closed his eyes, and wished Neil Josten goodbye.

But he couldn't let go of the key Andrew gave him, through all of it, he couldn't let it go.

The only thing he would take to his deathbed being a key.

[therandomfandomgal-insta]

"Fight because you don't know how to die quietly. Win because you don't know how to lose"

~ Nora Sakavic, The King's Men

[therandomfandomgal-insta]

My favorite thing about the ATFG series, is that you can ask any super fan “are these good books?” and they will emphatically reply “absolutely not” and then proceed to open The Foxhole Court for their 23rd reread since the start of the pandemic.

[therandomfandomgal-insta]

daily aftg hc: andrew continues to break into wymacks apartment for various reason, but he also starts bringing neil with. wymack has come home late to see neil watching tv and andrew baking some sweet in his kitchen. they usually just nod or wave like it's nothing. the first few times he says something along the lines of 'great you're multiplying' or 'you do know you don't live here, right?' but eventually he just gets used to it. once he heard the door handle jiggling at midnight and grabbed a bat, only to find andrew and neil standing in pajamas on the other side carrying pillows, blankets, and a few dvds because the player in the dorms broke