#Flyposting

[microwavesex]

important postings found around Vancouver this summer

[iamhollywood]

he's such a little bitch i hate him

[gabrielspenisbox]

Can we PLEASE talk about how Gabriel was ENTIRELY intending to show up on Beelzebub's fucking doorstep completely naked

Like, cheeks out EVERYTHING.

[luthanraels-bignaturals]

Veronica: Go fuck yourself Stathis, I’ll have you know that Seth is the sweetest, smartest, most sensitive man I’ve ever dated. He’s a modern genius just you wait and see.

Seth back at the lab watching his 15th monkey explode in his homemade microwave:

[sweatysharkpainter]

¿Por qué llegamos a esto?

Me duele de manera horrible el pecho.

Siendo sincera ya no se que sentir.

Me da mucha melancolía el hecho de irme a dormir rogando no volver a despertar.

El nudo en la garganta es como alambres de púa incrustados de manera tal que al emitir un sonido, hace que me duela tanto que mis ojos repleto de lágrimas no cesan de llorar.

Así me siento.

Sabes, hoy volví a pensar en que contigo me vuelvo a equivocar.

Me estuve preguntando para qué me quieres en tu vida, si como dijiste, me amas pero no me necesitas. Me preguntó el por qué de que yo siga aquí, estancada en el mismo lugar donde también lo comparto con alguien más, con ese alguien que quieres físicamente, pero que emocionalmente ocupo yo.

¿Por qué?

Sabes, no se si lo notaste, pero a mi me está costando mucho seguir, me esta pesando la vida, es como si el mundo estuviera en mi contra, como si todo conspirara en dirección opuesta a mi.

¿Lo puedes ver?

Me siento cansada, mis piernas flaquean, mi cuerpo ya no resiste un golpe más. La agonía, la tristeza, la soledad, comenzaron a carcomer mi ser, mi cabeza es un mar de pensamientos mohínos, pensamientos de los que jamás pensé que surgirían.

Ya no se de que manera calmar todo el dolor que siento, no se como deba de afrontar esto, si seguir o rendirme.

[msdk-00]

day 2 of the fly on my ceiling still being there

[knifegrrrl1312]

[mewos-laptop]

Flyposting

Based on the chill flies I've been hanging out w/ for the past two nights. They are so chill and let me basically pick them up. They are not afraid of me, and I am not afraid of them.

I think they like Hatsune Miku bc I've been watching YT reposts of Miku concerts and I think they watch them with me.

I have made friends with the flies and I am happy to say it.

@valleyfthdolls

Btw this is the first time I've posted my Cody design so uhh. Happy Cody design debut

[feckcops]

No job, no rent: I was a full-time militant in the nineties

“I existed in a radical counterculture predicated on direct action, political and cultural experimentation and a resistance to waged labour. The various projects that constituted this scene were based on ideological commitments, volunteerism and free association. If you didn’t like the direction of a particular project, you could go away and start your own. As such, the early 1990s saw an explosion in self-organised and militant anti-capitalist activity, ranging from radical ecology to anti-fascism and beyond ...

“Free from the bondage of work, our days were spent producing radical bulletins and newspapers, flyposting local estates, organising protests and direct actions, frequenting radical bookshops, meeting comrades for informal gatherings and cooking collective meals. There were plenty of entry points through which younger activists could get involved in ‘the movement’, and, without the need to work or pay rent, were able to reproduce their lives as full-time militants.  

“By the time the 2010 student movement was in full swing, changes to both the dole and tighter anti-squatting legislation made this lifestyle increasingly difficult. However, the self-organised politics of London’s radical direct action movement nonetheless shaped the concerns and sensibilities of this generation, many of whom would, in 2015, redirect their efforts and resources to supporting Jeremy Corbyn’s Labour party leadership bid.

“The turn toward institutional politics heralded by Corbynism was seen by many within the socialist left as a means to escape the narrow, ‘noble heroism’ of direct action and political minoritarianism. While this may be true, one can’t help but think this turn – coupled with the near collapse of the dole and squatting – has, in many ways, had a negative impact on both the political imagination and political opportunities presented to younger activists.”

[xaviergalatis]

[gabrielspenisbox]

This is lovely art OP but as both a Good Omens and Cars fan I am passionately telling you that in no way ever would Crowley force Aziraphale to watch Cars 2. He would be all too aware of its problematic parts and also that it's just extremely insufferable to watch. He loves Aziraphale too much to put him through that.

He WOULD however, happily put on Cars 3 and watch Aziraphale ball his eyes out over it.

Aziraphale, I’m getting a feeling You're not taking movie night seriously

[iamhollywood]

I want to talk about Jesse's possum story from Fly. most of this is just word vomit from my notes so it might not 100% make sense just bear with me here.

We know Jesse's aunt Ginny died of cancer. It's not really discussed much in the show, but it seems to have affected him quite a lot, especially in his relationship with Walt. In Fly, Jesse is particularly thrown off by Walt’s sudden obsession with the fly because of how much it mirrors Ginny’s reaction to the possum (“Scrabble”). In both cases, a person Jesse looks up to, who has a tentative health condition, is being driven mad by an animal trapped in an enclosed space. Both of them are desperately trying to regain control over a situation where they have none – for Ginny, this is her cancer, for Walt, this is his life of crime – and going to more and more extreme lengths to do so. 

Eventually we find out that Ginny’s obsession was caused by brain cancer. This does two things. First, it leaves us to wonder what’s wrong with Walt – what’s causing him to act like this? His cancer is in remission, so it can’t be (or probably isn’t) brain cancer. This question is answered later, in the scene where Jesse kills the fly. Walter is experiencing guilt and regret for the first time in the show. He very rarely experiences remorse, so of course this version of him is alien both to us and to Jesse. By the end of the episode, the fly, symbolising Walter’s guilt, is killed, and he returns to normal.

Second, it gives us insight into Jesse’s emotional state. His trauma from his aunt’s death is being triggered, which is why he acts how he does in Fly. Ginny died when he was much younger and had no experience of such a situation, which rendered him powerless to react. Now that he is older, he sees the same situation playing out in front of him and is desperate to change it. He tries to help Walter, by trying to kill the fly, and by drugging him to sleep (the drugging also mirrors how Ginny was given antipsychotics). He is both trying to resolve the situation and soothe the pain it is causing.

All in all, I really like this scene for what it symbolises and how it gives us an insight into Jesse’s past experiences of cancer and how they affect his interactions with Walt. I feel like Aunt Ginny isn’t really explored that much but she really does have a massive impact on this part of the show. And despite what Walt says, there IS a discernible point to this story :)

[gabrielspenisbox]

I see so many people being like "How come Gabriel and Beelzebub figured it out only after three outings together! That makes no sense!" As if the three meetings we saw were the ONLY meetings they EVER had between season 1 and when Gabriel lost his memories??? Those were the most important meetings but there's nothing telling us those were the only times they met up??? If anything it's implied they had quite a few conversations over Armageddon before they both agreed they should call it off.

[luthanraels-bignaturals]

everyday i pace around my room muttering “i’m normal, i’m normal, i’m normal” as I am consumed by thoughts of cronenberg’s the fly (1986).

[sweatysharkpainter]

🍂✨️Our beginning ✨️🍂

Aun que dicen que las palabras se la lleva el viento, mis palabras serán ese aroma fresco que te inspira a seguir cuando el alba pinta de oro y calidez tus sueños y esperanzas. Sabes que no necesito ser extensa con mis palabras, por que palabras me sobran, y no bastarán nunca para calamar este deseo que me carcome hasta los huesos y hace que mi alma se encienda. Se que no puedo extrañarte, porque simplemente recordarte me hace sentir la agonía de querer estar allí contigo. Sabes recuerdo exactamente lo que decías en cada despedida, lo recitó como un poema cuyo autor eras tú.

—" Cuando nadie lo espere estaré, pero cuando todo el mundo espere algo de mi, me desvanecere en la clara gracia de mi soledad, disfrazada de odiosidad y apatía "

Recitó la fémina con sutileza en su voz, mientras cambiaba aquella flores marchitas las cuales se rompían al sentir el delicado tacto de los dedos de la pelinegra quién intentaba proteger lo últimos pétalos secos que quedaban.

—Deseo poder estar allí, cuando nadie esté, quiero ser yo quien tomará ese espacio que nadie entiende y solo yo pueda vislumbrar. Es por ello que desde mi locura más cuerda te digo..

Su vista se cristalizó un poco, al sentir tan presente aquella escena que torturaba diariamente su cabeza.

¡Tac Tac Tac Tac! El sonido de unos zapatos resonando en el brilloso piso se escucho, y entonces una voz gruesa resonó en la sala, la piel de la fémina se erizo, y su corazón latió tan rápido que podía sentir que iba a salir de su cuerpo.

Sus labios temblorosos intentaron articular alguna palabra, pero el shock no se lo permitió. Las pupilas completamente dilatadas eran cegadas por la acumulación de sus lágrimas que no tardaron en resbalar por sus mejillas hasta su barbilla.

—Yo... Yo llegaré a donde nadie a llegado

Susurró él masculino quien se había acercado hasta la más baja, abrazando la cintura de esta.

Sus labios robaron el lóbulo de la oreja de su contraria al instante que volvió a repetir con voz seductora y apacible.

—Yo llegaré a donde nadie a llegado.

Los ojos de la fémina se cerraron bruscamente de manera automática, al sentir tales tactos por parte del ajeno.

Entonces aquella sensación de desespero y agonía invadió su ser.

La falta de aire al intentar reter sus gemidos de dolor eran completamente audible, por más que se esforzará sabía que no podía callarlo.

Los últimos pétalos por salvar, cayeron al suelo realizando un compas de baile junto con la brisa fría del lugar, la cual apasiguo la caída de tales, logrando que descansarán finalmente en el suelo...

Y entonces todo se volvió oscuro.

[...]

[anonyb0b]

It's not that I'm clumsy, I just lost my halteres