#I TRUST HER WITH MY LIFE

[moghedien]

NOT ARIANA GRANDE EXPLAINING OZMA TO PEOPLE ON SET 😭

[wyverningx]

okay i wanted to do one, too!!!

i don't think we'll get an answer about jean's tattoo until TSC3, though (but i genuinely believe it will get lasered off as opposed to covered up)

[lilyfreshwater]

PACK WATCH PACK WATCH PACK WATCH PACK WATCH PACK WATCH PACK WATCH

[thecobaltmonk]

Laura fucking Bailey ❤

[andyclutterfuckme]

TOWL Ep 4 *fans self*

They already got me blushing just thinking about how they gon keep undressing each other with their eyes... before actually undressing each other... and they better not give me those quick cutaway/fade to black scenes when things start getting hot & heavy, I'm still not over the way Andy talked about their van scenes together in season 7 and how fun they were to film when they just improvised and were led by their natural chemistry, but it's an American TV show and the execs said it showed too much skin below the waist so they couldn't use those shots... UGH, I'm tired of just using my imagination. GIVE US WHAT WE WANT. PLS, DANAI!!! (also, if there is a God above, someone will leak those unused scenes from season 7)

[satans-knitwear]

My baby knows the way to all of our locals. I just follow her lead.

[spending-life-pretending]

One of my favorite things about reading the locked tomb books is I have literally no idea how they’re going to end. I can’t even begin to try and predict what’s gonna happen in Alecto. Nothing is too outrageous to consider. Everyone could die, or they could kill God and rebirth the sun and close on a gay triple wedding. There’s no way of knowing. Book 1 was a murder mystery dinner party and Book 3 was an eldritch space sitcom; there is no precedent. Every set of characters who might kiss are also just as likely to kill each other. AtN is a complete blank to me, and I’m loving it.

[pardonmydelays]

im about to watch tick, tick... boom! now

[i-cant-sing]

i don't trust Rei

Welcome to the club

[moonylouwho]

today my mom said she was 90% a man hater and i think that’s beautiful

[lovespowermoved]

𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐀 (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ / mutuals may reblog, personals don't interact.

[aria0fgold]

bro... brooo///... broo???? brO???!!?! BRO1?!?!?! WHAT IN THE ACTUAL F U C K IS THIS BRO?!?!!? SO IT WAS FR SAITO???? IT WAS SAITO??????

I was like: Did Saito used plastic surgery to look like Boss or what- NAH DUDE SAITO FUCKING USED THE PSYNC MACHINE TO LEGIT S W I T C H BODIES?!?!?!!?! WHAT THE F U C K

[pantestudines]

Our landlord trying to get us to move in a moldy dusty unlivable apartment (the tennants before us were white trash guys who didn't clean once) but luckily the cleaning lady we finally got her to agree to bring in is amazing and threatening to take the landlords ass to court and label the place unlivable over it if she doesn't clean the place

[dinneratdahmers]

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[glowsticcc]

chosen.