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*sees my mutuals logged on at the same time* ugh WHAT a day. Thank god you’re here. *doesn’t interact with them in any shape or form*

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Stop saying “there are plenty of fish in the sea”. I’ve got my eye on one specific, emotionally distant salmon with commitment issues

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every word out of guillermo del toro’s mouth is the most hardcore thing i’ve ever heard and he says it all so casually like he doesn’t even realize how much of a gothic visionary he is 

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@happy-mokka Thanks for the pickles, my friend!

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so many things try to emulate the Beatrice/Benedick relationship and so few of them get it right bc they’re like ‘oh it’s about the banter’ and YES, obviously, but if you make it JUST about the banter you’re going to fail! it’s about the RESPECT!!! it’s about the scene after Hero’s shaming where Benedick drops the banter entirely and sits there with Beatrice as she rages and weeps and then chooses to side with HER instead of the boy’s club that he’s been hanging out with for the entire play, both because he loves her and because she’s RIGHT!

like, it’s not some impulsive thing to make her like him, and it’s not just talk; he asks her if she’s sure and then he agrees and then he remains cold and determined when he meets Claudio and Don Pedro and they try to get him to joke around with them like old times.  i think that’s one of the things that gets me the most; that there’s a scene that you half-expect to fall into that same sort of joking, where Claudio and Don Pedro are specifically like, “Huh, we inexplicably feel kind of sad after ruining this woman’s life and reputation, I bet Benedick will cheer us up!” and he just. utterly refuses to engage. and it’s so powerful and it’s such a tonal shift and such a strong indication of just how much he loves and values Beatrice and!! anything that gets the banter but doesn’t get that completely fails to understand their relationship! THB!!

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It’s crazy that countries on the edge of the Sahara desert are reversing desertification by just digging half circles

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i hate how any career these days feels like you have to also double as an influencer. maybe i don’t want to be subjected to marketing myself

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*does five minutes of work* ok now i deserve a three week break. No consequences please 👍

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Hmmmm hm. Okay. Worldbuilding/story idea.

One million years after humanity disappears, octopi and ravens have independently developed sapience. And one day an octopus child and an elder raven meet at the edge of the ocean.

Where is your mother and father? asks the raven. I have no mother or father, says the octopus, blushing pale. All octopi are children. Once we’re grown, we will mate and we will die. It is the first and the last thing our mothers tell us.

But that’s horrible, says the raven. It’s not all bad, says the octopus. We play, we hunt, we make games for ourselves in the deep. Yes, but who remembers your songs? the raven says. Who passes down your stories?

What is a story? the octopus asks.

And the raven thinks about this question. And finally it says: A story is how you remember things in the past. It is how you know where you come from, and what happened before you were born. A story can be a warning, or it can be advice, or it can be a silly joke told to make you feel good. Someone remembers the story and tells it to the next generation, who remember the story and tells it to the generation after them.

And the octopus thinks about this answer. And finally it says: Can you tell me a story?

And the raven tells the octopus a story. And it’s a good story. And the next day the octopus returns and asks for another. The next day it brings its octopus friends, and the raven brings its raven friends, and many stories are shared on the edge of the ocean.

Months later, the octopus returns to the raven. I am grown, it says. I am returning to the sea to find a mate and lay my brood. I will not be coming back. I’m sorry.

I will miss your company, says the raven.

I have one thing to ask you, says the octopus. In time my children will come to the edge of the ocean. I would like you to tell them a story I have made. And when they have stories of their own, I would like your children to remember them and pass them down to my children’s children.

Of course, says the raven. What is your story about?

And the octopus thinks, and says: It is about an octopus child and an elder raven who meet at the edge of the ocean.

And this story has been passed down to this day.

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After an eternity, last night I reread what I wrote for the fanfic I was publishing like a year and a half ago... I read it as I would read anything written by anyone else.

I liked it. I laughed at certain phrases, found the intrigue better and less clunky than it felt while I was writing.

I´m thinking about finishing it.

My only problem is that creating for the fandom still hurts. I still adore the characters, the people in the fandom and in the AV production, but I'm also still angry and sad.

*sighs*

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rb to give the previous person a fucking break because life aint life-ing the way its supposed to life and it fucking sucks.

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10,000 years ago, someone carried a baby through the rain and left their footprints in an ancient lakebed. Whether they were the baby’s mother, sibling, stranger, we can’t know. Only that they walked one way together, but the footprints on the return were alone. What separated them, we cannot know. Only that they were together for a moment. Only that in the lakebed, they’re together forever.

30,000 years ago, an infant was buried beside its identical twin, having only survived a few weeks longer than the stillborn sibling. What happened to them, we cannot know. Only that perhaps one could not stand life outside the womb without the other. Only that they were apart for a moment, Then together forever.

In 100 years when the dam breaks and the lake where we learned to swim becomes a river again, will it wash us away?

In 10,000 years I don’t think anyone will find imprints of our flip-flops Or the grooves where our little hands dug motes in pebble-sand To protect mud-drip castles.

You asked to be ashes in the sea. And so we scattered you.

If I’d had my way, we would have walked together much farther. And you’d have been tucked into the soil, waiting for me.

They would have found my footprints beside yours, both ways. They would have found a lock of my hair clutched in your hand.

Your name, they could not know.

Only that, for a moment, you were someone’s sister.

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No kings in this country! ...except a few of the nice people we found walking along the Venice Beach Boardwalk 👑

Watch the full Game Changer episode on Dropout

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i simply don't think nonbinary people should have to see having our gender/s respected and acknowledged as a luxury. i think it's frankly sickening that that's the state of things tbh.