#I don’t care if someone is a million years old if they treat me like shit I will walk away from them

[the-little-crab-in-your-pocket]

Idk I just think that treating your child as less-than on the basis of them being your child (whom you are responsible for having) is kind of very shitty

[babymetaldoll]

BFF (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Spencer meets his best friend from school after 12 years apart.  Requested: Yes, a million years ago... sorry for the delay!   Warnings: None. I don't even think I cursed.  Category: Hardcore fluff  A/N: Hey!! I'm still alive!  Masterlist

Spencer Reid knew he had fallen in love. It happened when he was just eight years old and his heart had never beat for another girl again, not the same way after he met her. (Y/N), his neighbor, three doors down the block.  

Never, and he was 24 years old already.

It all started on a random afternoon after school. 

- “You are such a nerd, Reid!”- Spencer heard a boy yelling as he shoved him down to the ground. Reid grabbed his glasses and made sure to keep them safe and in place, even when he was on the ground. The other kid, Lucas, was two years older, and for some other reason, that was nothing but kids being cruel, he had always treated Spencer like scum. And that day wasn’t the exception. 

- “Why are you so mean?”- Spencer whispered as he tried to stand up, but Lucas shoved him back to the ground, mocking him. 

- “Why are you so mean”- and the kid chuckled- “I don’t know, why are you such a baby?”

- “Didn’t your mom tell you you should never hit a kid wearing glasses?”- (Y/N) shouted as she stared at the scene from a safe distance, holding her bike. Spencer turned to look at her and for a moment, he thought what he was feeling was a panic attack. His heart kept beating faster and faster as he stared at the girl in awe.

- “Stay out of this, girl”- Lucas yelled and clenched his fist looking at little (Y/N). But she didn’t seem to be afraid. In fact, she left the bike on the ground and walked a few steps closer. 

- “Why are you calling me “girl” like it’s a bad thing?” 

Spencer looked at her with wide-open eyes. Sixteen years had passed since that day, but he could never forget the way she stood completely fearless in front of a bigger boy, and crossed her arms on her chest, almost daring him to reply. 

- “Why are you defending the nerd? Are you in love with him?”- Lucas teased and shoved the girl. But instead of tumbling or even falling, the girl moved faster and kicked him right in the balls. Lucas yelled and fell on the grass, crying in pain. (Y/N) quickly grabbed her bike and turned to Spencer. 

- “This is when you run!” 

He had never felt his heart skip a beat the way it did that day. He was only eight years old, and it never happened again. 

- “What’s your name?”- the girl asked when they reached her front porch, running away from danger. 

- “Spencer”- he whispered as he tried to catch his breath.

- “I’m (Y/N), do you want some juice?”

And just like that, Spencer Reid had a friend. He followed her into her house and froze when he saw two older kids, around Luca’s age, in the living room watching tv. 

- “Those are my brothers, you can ignore them. I do.”- she explained as she kept walking. 

- “So you finally made a friend or are you forcing the kid to hang out with you?”- one of them asked and the other chuckled. But (Y/N) didn’t reply. She walked straight to the fridge, grabbed two juice boxes and some cookies, and continued her way to the backyard. Spencer followed her closely, climbed to her treehouse with her, and shared a snack. 

That was the first of many afternoons they spent together. In the years to follow, (Y/N) and Spencer became best friends. It didn’t matter that he was already in high school by the time she was in middle school. He always took the time to help her with her homework and tutored her in math and chemistry. And she always got his back. Whenever there was a bully around, an asshole making him miserable, or anyone trying to make fun of Spencer, she was there. Kicking ass. 

Kids in school would make fun of them, telling them she was his bodyguard, his guard dog. Someone even drew them in the gym locker room. Spencer was a bunny and (Y/N) was a wolf. It was supposed to make them mad, but they didn’t care. They had their own bubble, their world. And they loved it there. 

Until Spencer had to go. They were twelve, and Spencer had already graduated from high school. Caltech was waiting for him. 

(Y/N) stood by the car as Diana loaded a few boxes. They had to move to Pasadena, and even though neither of them said a thing about their feelings, it was clearly heartbreaking for the two of them.   

- “You are not gonna cry, are you?”- she joked as Spencer tightened his jaw and cleaned his glasses with his shirt. He didn’t reply, he was in fact, fighting the tears back. 

- “Who is gonna save your ass whenever you are in trouble now?”- (Y/N) asked and punched Spencer’s arm softly- “I should have taught you how to fight. You could have a black belt by now.” 

- “Did you know the best age to start martial arts class with a good balance of discipline and commitment is from eight to twelve-year-old?”- Spencer blurted facts because that was the only thing that made him feel safe. 

- “Well, make sure you take a self-defense course in Caltech or whatever. Don’t let anyone kick your ass”- she added and he friend just nodded. They stared in silence for a moment, until Diana called her son, ready to go. 

- “So… see you around?”- (Y/N) simply said and Spencer nodded. 

- “Can I write to you?”

- “Sure! can I send you my homework, so you can do it for me?”- both of them chuckled. Spencer wanted to hug her, but even after all those years, he still didn’t feel comfortable enough to do it. So he just waved, and she waved back, and before he could comprehend what was happening, he was in a car with his mom, driving from his home to a new destination.     

- “I’m gonna miss you.”- (Y/N) whipped off the tears from her eyes as she stood in the middle of the sidewalk staring at the car. She didn’t know why she couldn’t just tell her best friend those words instead of making fun of him, but she figured she didn’t want him to think she was weak. He made her feel that way. Weak. Soft. Giddy. Nervous. 

She had a crush on him, obviously. No wonder why she had spent over four years defending him from every bully in school. She never told him, though. She felt so stupid, so silly, and so freaking girly, she couldn’t stand it. So she locked her feelings, hid them underneath thousand sarcastic, witty comments    

- “Bye, (Y/N)”- Spencer whispered, staring at her through the rearview mirror, as tears kept falling from his eyes. He knew his heart was breaking, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

Skip twelve years, and Spencer still cherished every letter he had shared with (Y/N). They had long stopped writing to each other, but he always wanted to find her again. He missed her, like a part of his life that had been ripped from his chest, from his fingers. From his heart. But life was now filled with chaos. He worked at the BAU, he chased serial killers for a living. He didn’t have time for his personal life. He only had time for work. 

- “Local police department asked us to assist on a case”- Hotch announced early that morning at the briefing meeting of the team. Spencer looked at the Unit Chief and nodded, taking notes on the case they had to help with. They had worked with the local police a bunch of times, and so far it had been a good experience. 

- “I heard there is a new Sergeant in that department.”- Morgan comments as he drove with Spencer to the city police office - “As far as I know, she is very young but severe. Some of the officials said they were scared of her.” 

- “Most men are threatened by female bosses.”- Spencer replied, reading the case file for the fifth time during the trip. He didn’t take his eyes off the paper as he added - “A study indicates that women in positions of authority meet with more resistance in their interactions with male employees because those men perceive female bosses as a threat to their masculinity.”

- “And how would you deal with a female boss? Can you picture a woman as Unit Chief?”- Derek was just teasing his friend, mostly ‘cos he was bored.  

- “I don’t feel threatened by women.”- Spencer nearly stuttered as he replied, which made his words considerably unbelievable. 

- “Yeah, that’s not what I remember from the last time you talked with a woman.”- Morgan just chuckled and shook his head. 

- “Shut up.” 

Hotch, Gideon, Elle, Morgan, and Spencer walked into the police station. The Unit Chief and Gideon headed straight to the chief’s office, and the rest of the team waited in the bullpen. Most of the officers were there, doing paperwork, nothing out of the ordinary. Until one voice captured Spencer’s attention. 

- “How many times do I have to tell you, Smith? You can’t make that kind of desitions on your own? What if someone got hurt again?”- (Y/N) was scolding a young official, who glued his eyes to the floor, embarrassed. - “Now go before you get another suspension.” 

- “(Y/N)?”- Spencer whispered and turned to her. He was beyond shocked, not even in his wildest dreams he thought he would see her again. 

- “It’s Sergeant (Y/L/N).”- (Y/N) corrected and looked at the young agent. And for a moment, she forgot where she was. She opened her mouth, but not even one word came from her lips. There he was, her first love, looking cuter than ever. 

- “Hi.”- Reid mumbled and waved. She stood in the middle of the police office and simply stared at him in silence. 

No one understood what was going on. Morgan looked at Elle, who just shrugged. Everybody at that office was confused. The officials had never seen their Sergeant being emotional, and it was clear she was having a moment, right there in front of everybody.  

Suddenly, (Y/N) took a step closer to Reid, and then another, until she stood right in front of him and wrapped his arms around his neck. He moved immediately and hugged her tight. That was the very first time they hugged. 

- “Are you really here?”- she whispered and giggled, moving from him and staring t him with a big smile - “Is it really you, Spencer Walter Reid?”

- “Walter?”- Elle tried not to laugh and looked at Morgan, who seemed to be trying not to laugh as well. 

- “When did you move to DC?”- Spencer asked, staring at his best friend, neither of them moving from each other’s embrace. 

- “Last month! How long have you been here?”

- “Two years. I lost track of you after Caltech. I missed you.”- Spencer confessed right away, and (Y/N) nodded. 

- “Me too… and what are you doing here?” 

- “The team was called to collaborate on a case.” 

- “You are with the FBI?”- (Y/N) wide opened her eyes, surprised- “Look at you, Smarty.” 

- “Reid.”- Hotch interrupted their reunion and took them back to reality in a second. (Y/N) let Spencer go immediately and stood straight. 

- “Nice to meet you. Seargent (Y/L/N).”- (Y/N) extended her hand to Hotch, who shook it right away.- “The Chief told us you were coming to help with the case. Thank you for your time.”

- “(Y/N) is my best friend from school.”- Spencer explained to Hotch, and the team because they were all carefully listening. 

- “Nice to meet you. I was just talking with the Chief, we are meeting at the briefing room now.” 

Both (Y/N) and Spencer nodded and started walking, following the team. They had to make a major effort to focus on work. Neither of them could take their eyes off each other. Spencer kept smiling the whole time and looking at his best friend in adoration. Meanwhile, (Y/N) tried her best to remain calm. She felt exactly as she did when she was twelve. Her defense was down, Spencer made her feel weak and in love. Who knew first crushes could last that long? 

By the end of the day, a team of police officials plus Morgan, Elle, and Hotch had gone after the unsub. Spencer, and (Y/N) remained at the station, along with the Chief and Gideon. 

- “I still can’t believe you are here.”- Spencer whispered and looked at (Y/N), as the two of them stood in the middle of the kitchenette, getting another cup of coffee. 

- “Me neither.” 

- “I have so much to tell you. How are your brothers?” 

- “Married and with kids. I still can’t believe they are responsible grown-ups.” 

- “I might need proof to believe that as well.”- Reid smiled and (Y/N) chuckled at his words- “My mom still remembers you.” 

- “How is she? I miss her classes and her reading sessions.”- Spencer opened his mouth to reply, but Gideon interrupted him. 

- “They got him, we are ready to go.”- Reid nodded and turned to (Y/N), who sighed and cut him a short smile. 

- “At what time does your shift end?”- the young agent asked her.

- “Two and a half hours ago, yours?”- she replied with a soft chuckle. 

- “I think I am free now… do you want a better quality coffee?”- both of them smiled and looked at the mugs. 

- “And maybe something to eat. I’m starving.” 

- “Are you still a fan of Mexican food?”- Spencer asked and (Y/N) could barely hide the blush on her cheeks.

- “You still remember that?”

- “I remember everything.”

Reid and (Y/N) walked around after dinner. They had spent their time catching up with everything they had done since the last letter they had shared. He told her about college, his master's degrees, and PhDs. She told him about how she became a sergeant at such young age, and how she ended up in Washington DC. 

They walked arm in arm under the starry sky, like time hadn’t passed by. They talked about everything they might think of. But there was one question Spencer needed to ask her before the night was finished.  

- “I sent you so many letters after Caltech, but they all came back. They said “Not at this address”. Why didn’t you tell me you were moving?” 

And that was the one question (Y/N) wasn’t longing to reply. 

- “You were my best friend. My only friend and you disappeared. Why?”- Spencer stopped walking and looked at (Y/N). She sighed and bit her lips, trying to find the right words to explain her truth. It was hard, and she had tried her best to avoid it for too long. But if life had put Spencer back in her path, she couldn’t escape anymore. 

- “I’m sorry I hurt you, Spencer.”- she whispered and took a few seconds before she added - “That wasn’t my intention.” 

- “Then why did you disappear?” 

- “I needed some distance”- she tried to explain, but Spencer frowned. 

- “You and your family had moved to New York, I was in Los Angeles. We hadn’t seen each other in years. That wasn’t enough distance to you?”- (Y/N) had never heard Spencer raise his voice, but to be fair, they hadn’t talked about their feelings ever before. 

- “I needed to get over you!”- she murmured and bit her lips one more time, obviously nervous about his reaction. She was trying to be honest. - “I couldn’t continue in love with my best friend forever. I had to move on! I was already eighteen and I never even had a date, ‘cos I was waiting for you.” 

Spencer stared at her in shock. Of all the answers he thought he might get, that was not the one he imagined. He thought she was bored of him and grew tired of his letters. That she had more interesting things to do with her life than talking with a pen pal. 

(Y/N) sighed, relieved to take that from her chest, but scared of Spencer’s answer. She stared at him for a few seconds, but he didn’t react. So, she continued walking and slowly left him behind. 

Spencer tried to connect all that info, but he couldn’t believe it. He stared at her back as she walked and called out her name, jogging. 

- “(Y/N), wait.” 

- “No Spencer, it’s ok. You don’t have to say anything. I’m sorry I was so immature and hurt your feelings. I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t… I am so sorry.”- she blurted out and kept looking at her feet as she spoke. 

- “Don’t be.”- the young SSA whispered and held her hands. She raised his eyes and stared into his. She could still see the same sweet kid she had met at eight years old. - “I am sorry I never told you how I felt either. I was just so scared to lose you, and I lost you anyway.”

The two of them stayed in silence, processing what had just happened. Neither of them moved. Neither of them knew what to say next. So they just stood in silence for a few minutes, Spencer kept holding her hands the entire time, slowly and carefully caressing her fingers. 

- “So… what now?”- she finally whispered and Spencer sighed. 

- “Would… you… like… going out on a date with me?”- he asked and (Y/N) was unable to control the smile on her face. 

- “Are you serious? What did we just have? Dinner and ice cream count as a date.”- she teased him and Spencer blushed immediately.  

- “Ok, would you like to go on another date with me?” 

- “I would love to.”- she replied and started walking again, this time hand in hand with Spencer. He chuckled and stared at her from time to time. 

- “What is it?”- (Y/N) asked, knowing he was looking at her. Spencer chucked again and stopped walking. 

- “If this was a date…”- but he couldn’t finish his question, ‘cos (Y/N) held his face with both hands and kissed him. It was short and childish, and both of them seemed shocked after they parted. 

- “... I was wondering if I could walk you home?”- Spencer finished asking, and (Y/N) closed her eyes embarrassed, and even held her breath. 

- “Sorry… I thought you were….”- but this time, she couldn’t finish talking ‘cos Spencer held her face and kissed her. But that kiss was neither short nor childish. It was sweet and slow. Spencer kept rubbing his lips against hers, making her feel the entire world had stopped spinning. 

- “Sorry… I couldn’t help myself.”- he whispered as he moved his lips from hers, still cupping her cheeks with both hands. 

- “It’s ok.”- she managed to murmur as she giggled. - “I wanted to kiss you since we were twelve years old.” 

- “Me too.”- he confessed and looked at her blushy cheeks, knowing he looked the same.

- “So, are you gonna walk me home?”- (Y/N) asked and felt Spencer hold her hand as they started walking again. He intertwined his fingers with her and turned to her for a second as they started talking again. He knew this time he wasn’t going to let her go.  

Taglist General @spenxerslut @ash19871962 @muffin-cup @cynbx @meowiemari

Taglist Spencer @calm-and-doctor @malboroniights @lovejules888

[imtryingbuck]

No Better Than My Husband

~ gif not mine credit goes to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Readers husband is having affairs, so reader does the same

Word count: 1,513

Warnings: Angst and Fluff, swearing? Cheating, Sharon being a bitch. Terrible writing as always.

Masterlist

Y/n’s husband really thought he was being smart about his indiscretions, not that his affairs shocked her, but he truly believed she was some dumb naive housewife due to believing this, he started getting sloppy. At first it pained knowing her husband was entertaining another woman whilst she was at home alone, being nothing but faithful and devoted to him. When his first mistress found out that she wasn’t the only side piece he had she had messaged Y/n all the pictures, videos and messages between the pair, it was meant to hurt her but she already knew her husband was seeing other women behind her back.

The thought had crossed her mind at first to confront him but she knew better, she knew no matter how many tears she showed him he wasn’t going to change. She watched her mum do the exact same thing with Y/n’s dad, he promised her he’d stop and it wasn’t until his untimely death that she had found out that not only was he still seeing the other woman but was engaged to her and the cherry on top was that he had borne a 8 year old son.

So no she wasn’t going to confront him, leaving him to truly believe that his beautiful naive wife didn’t know that when he said he was having a business meeting it was actually him fucking another woman.

However what he didn’t know was that whilst he was having these “business meetings” she was in the arms of another man.

The first time she slept with Bucky she ran to the bathroom to puke up, she felt disgusted, she felt like she was the worst of the worst. The second time she slept with Bucky the guilt was still there but not as strong as before. Now after every time of meeting up with him she didn’t care, she loved the attention he showered her with but most of all she craved just being touched and not necessarily in a sexual manner.

Bucky thought she was truly the most beautiful woman to ever exist, he found out she was married after he gained the confidence to talk to her. The shock and anger he felt was showed on his face when she spoke about her husband’s affairs. Trying to get his head around the idea of how man could have someone like Y/n as a wife just to cheat on her truly baffled him.

Now Bucky lays there trying to catch his breath after spending nearly two hours of happily pleasuring over and over again the goddess that he has the upmost respect for. He knew he was in deep with her, he knew that it wasn’t just sex for him and he hoped that it was the same for her.

Keeping a soft gaze at her ever so slightly trembling form he broke the silence “So I was thinking, don’t give me that look missy, I was thinking about introducing you to my friends? They’ve heard everything about you and they want to meet you but only if your comfortable with that”

“I don’t know Buck, you told me they know I’m married and they probably think the worst of me”

“No baby they don’t, I told them about him and how he’s cheating on you none of them judge you for doing the same”

Shakily sighing “okay but only if your really sure about this”

“Never been more sure beautiful”

They share a kiss which quickly grew more intense. Bucky was more than happy to continue showing her affection and love.

The day had arrived to meet her lovers friends and to say she was nervous was an understatement the thought of them judging her scared her, she knew she wasn’t a bad person she did anything for anyone. Never in a million years did she think that the man who took a vow to love and be faithful to her would break said vow, but here she was five years into marriage her husband betraying her with four women - that she knows of - she was tired of being mocked and treated like a fool so she decided to return the favour. However now she was in too deep, she had fallen in love with Bucky. So she truly hoped his friends didn’t judge her too much.

Bucky had agreed to meet her outside the cafe that was close by the tower, they shared a kiss and made their way to where his friends were. The whole time Bucky was reassuring Y/n that it was going to be okay.

Standing in front of the Avengers was intimidating but when they greeted her happily the nerves that was settled throughout her body melted away. Conversations flowed effortlessly laughs were shared, that was until Sharon spoke up from where she was sat. “So Y/n Bucky says you’re married? At first I was shocked that he could sleep with a married woman but now meeting you I understand”

Y/n felt uncomfortable under Sharons intense gaze, she definitely didn’t like her tone. After shifting to try and get comfortable she finally found her voice “My husband has been cheating on me for a long time, I never intended to do the same but I met Bucky one night and one thing led to another and well now I’m here” ending her sentence with a shy chuckle. Bucky took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles in a comforting gesture.

“Don’t you feel slightly ashamed of yourself? Because you should”

Not knowing how to reply she just looked down at her clasped hands, of course she felt ashamed of herself, of course she hates herself for being no better than her husband. It was one moment of weakness that if she had to do it all over again, she would. She would do it all over again without a second thought and that, that is what she hated about herself.

The room had fallen into an uncomfortable silence, everyone was pretty annoyed with Sharon for spoiling such a happy time. The looks that were shot at Sharon made Y/n feel like she had done something wrong. She never wanted to cause any problems with the group of friends. A few beats passed when Y/n glanced at her watch then bent down to get her bag and coat that was at her feet, her movements caused Bucky to jump up. “You don’t have to go” 

“I do, I need to get home” turning to the group “it was an absolute pleasure meeting you all, thank you for a great time, bye” Not listening to the protest coming from Bucky and his friends, she walked out the room to the elevators. Bucky had ran inside just before the doors had closed.

“Baby ignore Sharon, she’s just being rude for no reason. I’m sorry” 

“It’s fine Buck. Honestly. I need to let you know now that I’ve finally filed for divorce. I’ve already packed my stuff and moved into an apartment. He’s on a “Business” trip ah. I really feel hard for you Buck, I’m sorry” The shiny doors came open and she all but ran out before Bucky could reply.

Four months had pasted since Y/ns confession in the confined space of the elevator, four months without speak or seeing the super soldier. The messages and phone calls that came from Bucky and her now ex-husband had gone off none stop. The messages from her ex started off with him apologising and begging her to come back, he’ll change. Which turned to him taunting her, blaming her for his actions. When it came to their divorce to be finalised he had showed up with mistress number 4 hanging off his arm, he thought this move would hurt her but all it did was make the judge give her way more money than she originally asked for.

Bucky’s messages consisted of apologies too, along with pleading her to meet him. But was also filled with him telling her he loved her.

One Sunday the rain was pouring down heavily in the late afternoon when a knock on the door startled Y/n, trying to calm her racing heart she made her way to the sound. Opening her door her heart stopped.

“W-what are you doing here Buck? How did you find me?”

“Nat”

“Okay? Still didn’t answer the first question”

Instead of answering her Bucky walked straight up to her, touching her face with freezing and delicate hands he searched her eyes for any reason to pull away. Finding none he moved closer and closer till his cold plumb lips touched hers. Kissing one another always took their breaths away, no matter how many times they’ve done it. Reluctantly pulling away he rested his forehead on hers and smiled.

“Be mine and I’ll be yours” Bucky’s heart was hammering rather hard inside of his chest awaiting her response, and instead of verbally responding she pulled him into the apartment letting him kick the door behind them.

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[pawnshopbleus]

These Are the Days Two - And the Rest is History

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader High School AU

For the summary, warnings, and more please visit here

Previous Chapter

The softball field at Lakeview is - to put it nicely, a piece of shit. The field is uneven, the grass almost never gets cut, and the bleachers have millions of spiders living in them. It’s not like the school doesn’t have the budget for it. They do but the pitch still looks like this because Principal Orangebottom could care less about girls sports even though they win more than the boys. 

The horrible conditions of the softball field don’t keep them from winning. In fact, it motivates the girls to win even more. Hours and hours of practicing on a field that can be only described as hell teaches them teamwork. 

Having a team that can overcome anything is what makes Abby’s job easy. No matter what, she can always count on her girls to get her through anything. Right now, Ellie was getting Abby through a particularly grueling session in the gym.

“So, about the new girl. She seems nice. A little quiet but nice,” Ellie said as she handed Abby her bottle of water. 

Abby was intrigued by what she saw in you. She remembers when she first saw you, your figure blurred by the stainless glass window in your bedroom. In the blink of an eye you were gone, but not from her memory. The U-Haul in your driveway gave her all the information she needed. You were new to town and she hoped that you would go to Lakeview. It’s always been a fantasy of hers to become friends with someone who didn’t know who she was, the daughter of Bellevue’s esteemed surgeon, Jerry Anderson, and the girlfriend of all-American football player, Owen Moore. She just wanted someone to treat her like a normal human being rather than just some accessory. 

And when she first spoke to you she knew her prayers were answered. 

“Yeah. I sit next to her in history. She's pretty smart,” Abby nodded along. 

“Do you think she’s gay?”

That stops Abby in her tracks. The not-so-simple question that always leaves her perplexed. What does it mean to “be gay?” one might ask. Abby asked herself that question multiple times. Not because she is gay but simply because she'd like to understand it more. 

Abby looks at Ellie, confused. “Number one, It’s none of my business. Number two, why does it matter? And number three, I’ve only known that girl for two weeks. It’s not like she’s gonna tell me something that huge in such little time.” 

Ellie shrugs and grabs her gym bag. “Just curious.”

“You know what they say about that cat.”

“What cat?”

Abby rolls her eyes and gets off the weight bench. “Never mind.”

In the library, you’re hunched over a math assignment. The thinly lined paper is filled with tiny holes in obscure spots from your constant erasing. No matter how hard you try to study, math just isn’t your strong suit. You’ve always been jealous of people who simply have a knack for it but their constant bragging about how “easy” math is gets on your nerves. 

Jesse laughs a little too loud which earns him a glare from the librarian and her assistant. His chortle breaks you out of your math day blues. He turns his phone around to show Dina a video and she just shakes her head. 

“Why are you on Youtube shorts? The only person I know that willingly watches YouTube shorts is my four-year-old cousin and he can barely read.”

“That’s because he’s four!” Jesse yells. The realization of his mistake is automatically recognized as he turns around and apologizes to the librarian. She simply glares at him and returns to her computer.

“You two fight like an old married couple.”

“We get that a lot. Sadly,” Jesse nods.

Dina scoff, “Sadly? As if you’d ever be lucky enough to get with this.”

Ellie swaggers into the library with Abby by her side. The evidence of their workout being their glistening skin and their athletic clothes clinging to their bodies. 

Ellie sits down in Dina’s lap and kisses her on the cheek. Dina holds her nose and tells Ellie that she needs to shower. Abby smiles at the exchange, happy that her best friends were lucky to find each other. What Dina and Ellie had could never be replicated. 

The thought of Owen and her becoming an IT couple scared her. There’s too much responsibility when it comes to being the couple everyone looks up to. You have to hold hands all the time, make out in the hallways, be with each other all the time. That honestly sounded like a chore that Abby wasn’t willing to do.

“I’m having a little get together at my house this Saturday if you guys would like to come. It’s a little beginning-of-the-year celebration. There’s gonna be booze, chicks, weed, video games, pizza, and salad if you’re into that vegan stuff,” Ellie declared. 

Dina looks at you, “When Ellie says ‘little get together’ that means that the entire school is gonna be there.” 

You gulp. You’ve been to parties before but those parties had max twenty people. This party sounded like it was going to be one of those parties you only see in movies. 

“I’ll be there,” you say. 

It would be good for you to get out of the house. Staying home and doing nothing was starting to kill your social skills so some time partying like a normal teenager would be good.

As Dina, Ellie, and Jesse debate on whether or not Jesse could jump from Ellie’s roof and into her pool, Abby leans in and whispers in your ear, “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I’ll make up an excuse for you if you’d like.” 

“No, thanks. I really should get out of the house more. The silence is killing me.”

“Tell me about it. My dad’s at work all the time so when I come home it’s just me and Alice, my dog.”

Abby doesn’t seem like the type of person whose parents would neglect her. She’s so kind and vibrant, the complete opposite of you. Maybe she had the type of parent that tried their hardest to stay present while still working hard shifts. Or maybe she had parents like yours. You hoped that she didn’t. 

Ellie gets off of Dina’s lap and grabs her duffle bag. She taps Abby's shoulder who reluctantly gets up from the table. “Let’s go, Abs. We gotta talk to the coach before we go to our next class.” The two of them wave goodbye before exiting the library. 

Your eyes linger on Abby for a little longer than they should. To an outsider it would look weird but you knew your intentions were innocent. The mysterious aura that she carries makes you want to just look inside her brain and learn everything that there is to know about her. 

In history, Mr. Miller makes his dramatic entrance and sits down at his desk in the front of the room. His glasses sit at the tip of his nose. He looks at the class over his circular framed glasses making him look like a cheap version of Harry Potter. 

He takes out another stack of papers from his messenger bag and starts handing them out. Students sigh or laugh with glee as they see their recent test scores. Mr. Miller quizzed all of you on what you’ve learned from previous history classes. It didn’t really matter grade wise but some people still took it seriously, like you. 

Mr. Miller reaches your desk and hands Abby her test first. Then he slides your test face down across your table. Your heart drops. In previous classes, teachers only did this if you did horrible on the test. You reach to flip the test over with shaky hands. Your fingers feel the paper under their tips and with a deep breath, you flip the test over. A perfect score and a note that says ‘see me after class’ are written on the front of it.

You nearly collapse with relief as Mr. Miller leaves your table with a smirk on his face. He must get a kick on almost giving his students a heart attack. 

You glance over at Abby and see her glaring at her paper before shoving it in her backpack. Her right hand keeps clenching and unclenching, almost as if she had an invisible stress ball in her palm. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, hand almost going to touch her shoulder but she jerks it away. Your hand makes its way back to your side, embarrassment taking over. 

“Fine,” she says. 

After class, Mr. Miller waits for all the students to exit the classroom minus you and Abby, that is. You look at her in your peripheral vision. She’s manspreading in her chair, her leg is bouncing up and down, and her hand is still clenching and unclenching. You wish you could help her but she seems like she just wants to be left alone right now. 

“Now, I asked the two of you to stay behind because both of you were on both sides of the spectrum when it came to the test.” 

Mr. Miller says your name in a way that can only be described as proud, “She got a perfect one-hundred while you, Abby, got a ten. It would be good if you were going for gold, but unfortunately, I want you to pass my class and stay on the softball team. So, I propose the idea that you two get together once a week and study.” 

He claps his hands together, “So, what do you think?”

You look at Abby for her response but she just stares at the space in front of her. 

“Fine,” she grunts. 

“I accept,” you say. 

You’re a little hurt that Abby isn’t more excited about this. Granted, she got a ten on a test but she has the opportunity to better her grades. If this were you, you would be jumping up and down and kissing the person who was so willing to help you…Okay, maybe that was a little much, but still. You’re going out of your way to do this for her so more than a grunt would be nice.

Mr. Miller smiles. “Great then. I look forward to seeing how both of you do on our next test.”

Abby rushes out of the classroom, leaving her pencil behind. You snatch the pencil and run it to her, your backpack bouncing up and down as you run down the hallway. 

“Abby, wait up.”

She slows down but doesn’t stop. Your frantic running turns into more of a fast walk as you catch up with her. 

“You left your pencil.” 

You hand her the simple number two pencil. She thanks you and continues to walk. 

“So, umm, when do you want to start?” you ask, hoping that your question doesn’t strike a nerve with her. “Monday,” Abby replies. 

You nod, already planning out how you’re going to tutor Abby and still make it on time for your - that's right. You have absolutely nothing else to do. This is going to be your life for however long Abby needs you.

You watch as Abby’s baby blue ford pickup truck makes its way out of the empty parking lot. You wave goodbye as the truck skirts off. 

Until Monday, Anderson, you think to yourself, your hand still waving to the empty abyss that is the Lakeview student parking lot.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @soupycloud

Thank you all so much for reading!

[bluelocksource]

Kurona Ranze’s trivia

☆ Character color: Pink.

☆ Birthday: 6th September.

☆ Current age: 16 (1st year high schooler).

☆ Zodiac: Virgo.

☆ Birthplace: Hokkaido.

☆ Family structure: Father. Mother. Himself.

☆ Current height: 168 cm.

☆ Foot size: 26.5 cm.

☆ Dominant foot: Right foot.

☆ Vision acuity: 1.2

☆ Blood type: O.

☆ Grip strength: 38 kg.

☆ Motto: "Take care of your own mood."

☆ Starts playing football: At age 4.

☆ Team before joining BLUE LOCK: Kirikizan High School Soccer Club.

切刻斬 (kirikizan) can mean 'cutting slash' or 'precise cut'.

☆ Hobby: Playing with his braid. "Since childhood, I’ve had the habit of touching my bangs when I’m daydreaming, watching TV, or concentrating. When my parents jokingly taught me how to braid, I’ve had braided hair ever since. I braid and unbraid it to get through boring classes."

☆ Favorite food: Twist bread. "It’s cute because it looks like a braid. Any flavor is fine."

☆ Food he dislike: Iga’s hard-baked rice crackers. "I chipped a tooth as a child. They’re hard. Hard.”

Iga is a city in Mie Prefecture.

☆ What goes best with rice: "I prefer bread, so I don’t know much about it."

☆ Favorite animal: Great white shark. "I feel a connection because of its jagged teeth. Jaws. Jaws."

☆ Favorite season: Spring. "It makes me want to run. RUN. RUN."

☆ Favorite football player: Lamine Yamal.

☆ Favorite song: "Onaji Yoru" by sancrib.

☆ Favorite manga: Gachiakuta.

☆ Favorite movie: Guardians of the Galaxy.

☆ Mushroom shoots vs Bamboo shoots: Bamboo shoots. "I like the crispy biscuit-like texture. Bamboo shoots sprouting up."

☆ What makes him happy: Subtle affection. "I like people who always look out for me."

☆ What makes him upset: Being yelled at. "They should just talk to me before getting angry. Anger management is important."

☆ What he thinks his strength is: "I can build relationships with others while maintaining a moderate distance. Also, I’m fast on my feet."

☆ What he thinks his weakness is:  "I tend to be quite casual about things I’m not interested in. Casual."

☆ What made him cry recently: “When my pet hedgehog passed away.”

☆ Favorite/best subject: "None in particular. None. I dislike studying."

☆ Weak/least favorite subject: "All of them. That’s why I hate studying! Don’t ask! Don’t ask!"

☆ Ideal type: Someone who maintains a moderate distance but stays close.

☆ Number of chocolates received from previous Valentine: 4.

☆ At what age he experiences first love: 8 years old.

☆ The first time he got confessed to: “A classmate told me they liked me, but it was in a mascot-like way. I was disappointed. I was really down.”

☆ Fixation: Hairstyles. "A person’s hairstyle reflects their personality."

☆ Average sleeping time: 7.5 hours.

☆ How he spend his holiday: “Training to improve my running speed. Taking care of my hedgehog (the second one). Then just relaxing casually. Relaxing.”

☆ When taking a bath, which part he washes first: His hair. "I undo my braid and carefully treat it."

☆ What he usually buy from the convenience store: "Hair ties. Hair ties."

☆ What will he do if he received 100 million yen: "I’d be shocked. Shocked."

☆ At what age he stops receiving presents from Santa: At 11 years old.

☆ What was his last wish from Santa: "Socks, for soccer. It was funny to find socks inside Santa’s stocking."

☆ What will he do during his last day on Earth: "Spend a relaxing time with my parents and my pet hedgehog (the second one)."

☆ Favorite historical figure: John Lennon.

☆ If he hadn’t encountered soccer, what will he be doing: “I might have aimed to become a pet groomer.”

☆ If he could only take one thing to a deserted island, what would it be: "I’d take my pet hedgehog (the second one) with me. Oh, the hedgehog's name is Pocari."

☆ If he had a time machine, would he go to the past or the future: The future. “I want to go really far into the future and make friends with future people.”

note: i want to apologize in advance for any mistake made in the translation!

source: Egoist Bible 2.

[bluecollarchub]

Switcheroo (originally story I posted on CYOC in 2015. Bit dated and my first time writing but thought i would share)

Dean was rich.  Fabulously rich.  And he loved it.  At 30 years old, he had amassed a fortune larger than most men had by the time they died.  He lived in a Pent House in NYC, surrounded by anything and everything he had ever wanted.  Gorgeous men flocked to him, eager to please him in return for whatever favors he might give.  Tall, muscular, with abs found only on the most determined athlete, he was certainly a physical specimen to be admired.

Now, Dean was not always like this.  At 18, he was a Journalism major at some crappy state school (he’d worked hard to forget the name, embarrassed it wasn’t Ivy League).  Poor, with few friends.  And fat.  Did I mention fat?  Average height, oily skin, pale, doughy body.  He was the farthest thing from a stud imaginable. 

One day, Dean decided to switch majors.  He realized he had no hope of being on Broadway and Journalism not only frightened him, but he realized there was no money to made in it.  As he got older, he realized money was the most important thing for him.  He wanted money.  Lots of it.  So, switching to a Business Major, he began the process of making money.  And he came up with a brilliant idea, as so many young men do, patenting the idea and making millions from it.  With those millions, he decided to change himself.  He wanted to be happy.  And he wasn’t happy being fat and pale and oily.  So he worked out.  He got the best doctors money could buy for his skin.  He hired the best trainers.  He hired the best tailors and the best hairdressers.  Finally, he was good looking enough to appear on the cover of GQ—which he did when he was 27. 

Gone was the pasty skin, replaced with a dark golden tan.  Gone was the flabby waist, replaced with hard abs.  Gone was the oily, pimply skin, replaced with skin smooth as a baby’s bottom and clear as the ocean.  He was an Adonis…and he knew it.  He treated everyone like dirt beneath his feet and he got away with it because he was rich and beautiful.  He had everything he could possibly want.  And he liked it. 

One day, during his annual physical, he was greeted with some horrible news:

“You’re dying, Dean.”

“What?!”

“You’re dying.”

“That’s impossible, Victor.  I’m 30 years old and in the best shape of my life.”

“Tell that to the cancer.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I can and I am.  You have a severe form of cancer and it’s spreading through your body at an accelerated rate.”

“How long?”

“A year, at the most.”

“What can we do about this?”

“Nothing, Dean.  You can’t stop it.”

“Victor, price is no object.  Do whatever it takes.”

“I’m sorry, Dean, but-“

“NOW!  Find a cure, find it NOW.”

“Okay, Dean.  Okay.  If that’s what you want.”

“Of course it is, I don’t want to die.”

“There is an experimental treatment the government has been working on.  It’s designed for Bush, to keep him in office forever.”

“I don’t care how my contributions to his campaign are being spent.  How does this help me?”

“It’s brain transfer.”

“What?”

“Brain transfer.  You can transfer your brain to another person’s body.”

“This isn’t Star Trek, Victor.  Get with the picture.”

“I’m serious, Dean.  I can switch your brain with someone else’s, give you a new life, a new chance to live again.”

“And lose all my money?  I think not.  I’d rather die, first.”

“You’re going to, if you don’t take this opportunity.”

“I’ll lose everything.”

“No, you can sign everything over to your new body, give him all your money, your life, everything.”

“Who am I going to find that will be dumb enough to trade?”

“Anyone, you’ve got a dozen and one rent boys that would kill to be in your body.  You don’t have to tell them the truth.”

“That’s true.  You’re right.  You’re a genius, Victor.”

“I know.”

The next day, Dean walked around his pent house, looking at the young men that were always by his side.  Maybe David?  No.  Maybe Sal?  No, too Jewish.  He wouldn’t be Jewish.  Vince?  Yes, Vince.  Vince had perfect hair and a naturally smooth body.  He was exactly what he was looking for.  Abs not as tight as Dean might want, but that was fixable. 

“Vince, I have a proposition for you.”

“What is it, Dean?”

“How would you like to have my body?”

“What?”

“I am looking to become younger, and I was wondering if you would like to swap bodies with me?”

“Are you high, Dean?”

“No, Vince, I’m perfectly serious.”

“I could be you, really?”

“Yes, Vince.  Really.”

“Shit, yeah.  I’ll do it.  But why do you want to give up being you?”

“My life isn’t a challenge anymore.  I want to start over.”

Lucky he’s an idiot, Dean thought. 

Dean arranged everything with the lawyers.  All of his money and belongings would be given to Vince—or the body of Vince, with Dean inside—the day after the operation.

“Don’t worry, Dean.  Everything will be okay.  When you wake up, you’ll be in a disease free body.”  Victor lowered the gas mask onto Dean’ face.

******

Dean woke up.  All was dark.  Where am I, he thought.  Oh yeah.  Holy Shit!  I’m in Vince’s body.  I’m in a new body.

He felt so weak, so tired and so weak.  After years of feeling so strong, this was a frightening change.  He didn’t realize Vince was so weak.  Even the act of lifting his arms took more effort than he had expected.  Struggling to sit up was an effort, too.  It felt like something was sitting on his stomach.  He was finally able to sit up and he hopped off the table.  Feeling around for a light switch, he bumped into a garbage can, making him shout in pain.  The cool air from the air conditioner gave him a chill and he realized he was naked.  He scratched his chest, feeling hair.  Wait…there shouldn’t be hair.  Vince was smooth.  Did he shave?

The lights suddenly came on. 

“Good morning.”

Dean turned to the sound of the voice.  He saw the ugliest man he’d ever seen standing before him.  He was naked for some reason.  “Put some clothes on, you hideous fucker.”  Dean’ voice sounded strange, not like Vince’s at all.  More of a southern drawl.

The naked man looked confused.  He was short, maybe 5 feet tall if he were lucky.  He had a scruffy beard and was almost bald on top with a fringe on the sides.  He was fat, not fat, gargantuan.  He had the makings of a third chin.  His dull eyes were squinty, piggish.  His head sat on top of his shoulders, his neck consumed by fat.  Hair covered his chest, back and shoulders and his short arms hung heavily by his sides.  Manboobs larger than most supermodel’s hung to the sides of his chest, sacks of dough resting on top of a giant stomach that covered his groin completely.  Stout, flabby legs covered in dark hair touched all the way to the knee. 

“What do you think?”  The voice said again.

“What are you talking about?”

“What do you think of you?”

Dean realized that was a mirror in front of him, not a man.  Not Vince.  Some fat, ugly man.       

“What have you done to me?”

“What’s wrong, Dean.  You told Vince you wanted to be young so you could have a challenge for your life again.  Well, you’re 20 years old and I’d say you have quite the challenge before you.”

Victor stepped into the room. 

“Victor, how could you do this to me?”

“How could you think about stealing some poor kid’s life and letting him die?”

“You switched Vince out with this…this…”

“Careful, Dean.  And yes, I did.  It was all my idea.  Mine, Vince’s, and your lawyer’s.”

“You mean…”

“That’s right, Dean.  All your money is being split four ways.  Every last million.”

“Four?”

“You don’t think we’d let poor Malcolm be poor, do you?”

“Who?”

“Malcolm Franks.  Your new body.”

“He’s going to die though.”

“He will die someday, yes.  But if you mean soon, then that would only happen if he really did have cancer.”

“What?”

“I tricked you, Dean.  Malcolm, I should say.”

“Why?”

“Why?  Because you’re rich.  You’re rich and spoiled and frankly, you’re an asshole.  You thought you could buy everything you wanted.  Well, you can’t anymore.”

“What am I going to do now?”

“Well, I imagine you’re going to go to work tomorrow, and go home tonight, to Malcolm’s nice, cozy home.  It’s a bit different than what you are used to, but you should feel right at home.  All assholes feel comfortable in trailers.”

“What?”

“You live in a trailer park at the edge of town.  Alone.  Not married, not family.  And you are a janitor at the local high school.  No college for you, Dean.  Malcolm dropped out at 16.  Yeah, you have definitely got quite a challenge before you.  But, you’re young again.  And, no cancer.  That’s exactly what you wanted.”

Victor tossed Dean a bundle of clothes.

“Get dressed, I’m sick of looking at that tubby body.”  He started to leave.  “Oh, you’re still gay, by the way.  But good luck topping anyone in that body.  Or finding anyone to date you at all, looking like you do and with no money.  You’re going to have to learn to be a little nicer from now on if you don’t want to end up alone.”

He walked out.  Dean began to cry.  All his money, all his hard work, gone, replaced with Malcolm, the fat janitor.  He was going to be stuck in high school, forever, watching all the little assholes graduate and go on to bigger and better things while he was stuck in his dead end job. 

He put on the smelly wife beater and the stained briefs.  He started to cry as he saw his penis in the mirror…he couldn’t even see it looking down.  What was once 9 inches had become 2 at best.  He had a tight foreskin with a long overhang but his mighty dick was gone, forever.  He pulled on the briefs and then the torn jeans.  The ratty sneakers followed. 

He was now poor.  And fat.  And he had bad skin, the pimples on his face were proof of that.  He had come full circle.  Only, this time, there was no hope for him.  He didn’t have the money to pay the doctors and the trainers.  He didn’t have the opportunity to go to college.  He was Malcolm, and he was always going to be Malcolm.  Fat, hairy.  Baby dick. 

He walked out of the room, staring at the laughing faces of Victor, Vince, his lawyer…and his body…his old body.  He had it all.  He had everything he had ever wanted.  And his selfishness had taken it all away.  He walked out of the hospital, walking towards his new life, his new place in society.  Gone were his endless parties.  His hordes of men wanting him to fuck them.  He was a grunt now. 

And he knew, as he waddled down the street, that’s all he ever would be.    

[philsmeatylegss]

please yap about dip and pip's relationship with pj, I want to know more

FUCKING YESS!!! WHOO HOO!! I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS DAY!!!

Okay so I haven’t brushed up on my PJ lore in a while, so correct me if any of this is wrong, but I’m sticking with the basics.

What gets me about their friendship is that they’ve been through it all together. Once again, correct me if I’m wrong, but him and Phil were friends before Dan started making videos, correct? It could’ve been after. Point is, he was there pre youtube era, bat shit insane era, and out era. And there’s proof they’ve stayed close through it all. I cannot imagine the pressure of maintaining a normal friendship under the circumstances they were under. I will fully admit myself I am one curious mf first thing I would ask is if they were together. And to have a bunch of 13 year olds yelling at you to do so, I can’t imagine just seeing all of that and then casually heading out to see a movie or get dinner.

I have a head cannon which I feel like I have enough reason to treat it like cannon and that’s that dnp only were close to YouTubers who didn’t care about their sexuality/relationship. You had to be there, but the 2014 british youtuber boom, dnp were making collabs with people who just were so different and it showed. And I don’t think people will understand if they weren’t there how big of a thing “phan” was. They were described usually something along the lines of “those friends with the matching hair that fans think are together.” So when you mix personalities that, to no one’s fault, just don’t blend, mix it with the pressure of five million thirteen year olds, and mix it with people who one has a lot wrong with them, that’s a really bad mixture to set up a friendship. I believe other than Louise and PJ, who dnp knew before hand (pretty sure louise, might have been at the start of their career), tyler oakley and Anthony seem to be the only creators they seemed comfortable around. I forgot why I started talking about this. Oh, the conditions in which friendship had to stand under.

I truly don’t know how to explain how insane the phandom used to be. And how widespread. As someone approaching the age they were when they started to blow up, I am amazed they didn’t leave the internet.

This whole long rant is to say that it was overwhelming to even be in the vicinity of dnp. The amount of pressure is something I truly cannot describe. And it’s hard to explain if you weren’t there, but I cannot imagine an outsider maintaining a relationship with the two of them with the pressures both within the relegation ship and outside. Because let’s also not forget Dan’s mental health and trauma was triggered every time a “phan is real” comment happened. It was truly such a chaotic time and I think the reason they didn’t have a lot of friends was because they couldn’t.

So it’s just that it must have been so fucking hard. And they must have a very close bond to have survived what their friendship endured. It was such a unique scenario to be pulled into and deciding to come along for the ride is something I find so admirable.

I also think PJ has been a part of their journey with sexuality and how public they were about being together. From what we know, Phil and PJ filmed together back when it was just millennials. To as recent as filming April Fool’s. That experience of watching that dynamic rise and fall and having to just follow and work with must’ve been crazy

If you look at a lot of the credits in dnp’s more professional videos, PJ is often in the credit and often has a big role. Really, it’s mostly the same people who dip and pip work with which gets me the most. It’s obvious they feel comfortable and genuine around him. We’ve seen behind the scenes how they discuss ideas. It’s just very relaxed, which is something dip and pip were deprived of as soon as they started blowing up. Everything had to be planned and thought through. And I think having an old friend who they were likely open to about their relationship and sexuality probably kept them sane. I do believe they are a lot closer than they put forward online and good for them. I think that’s why they’ve stayed friends for so long.

A lot of this is pure speculation. But it must be so cool to have watched your close friend go through the journey pip did, all the while being with someone he loved. But also helping them through it and helping them express themselves within their own boundaries.

That’s what I was yapping about at the start. I think the few YouTubers dip and pip remained close to Anthony, Louise, and Tyler, is because they seemed to like dan and phil because they liked dan and phil. There was no ulterior motive and they genuinely didn’t give a shit their relationship or what fans said. If I were dnp, I would have become very guarded with my emotions. But, at least from what we’ve seen, they seem very comfortable with Pj and his gf I forget her name but she’s so pretty.

When I think of friendship I think of what Peej has with dip and pip. There was so much obvious discomfort for so many years and being able to adapt to that is something special. Balancing public versus private. And just having such long history together. Once again, I’m not up to date on my lore, but I’m pretty sure Phil and Pj knew each other before Phil knew Dan. Or at least it was very close. Like they have been friends from the start. Pj was there for every stage. Every stage. And having a friend who remained neutral during it all probably really helped dip and pip not go nuts.

I truly cannot put into words how out of control the phandom was. Like I don’t even know how to phrase it. It was such a unique phenomena that I have never seen anything even close since. So it’s hard to really get across what it meant sticking with dip and pip during the height of their career, but it must have been so fucking hard on all sides.

And to just see after that chaos that they are still close, that they still film together, that they just hang out,,, I just find that very neat. And admirable. And I’m so curious to know more about it.

I’m not rereading any of this so enjoy the typos

[one-futilerat]

Love, Perhaps

It’s a strange thing, isn’t it? Thinking you’ve fallen for someone? Getting confused and terrified, excited at the same time at the possibility of something more. I thought rejection would hurt a lot more, I thought it would hurt like the movies. With screams and crying in the middle of the night, depression, not being able to function without who you thought was your true love. I didn’t think it would be relief, or a blip in the moment, slight disappointment that this person doesn’t see you the same way you see them. And then, nothing. Just friendship and finally not having to care. Relief. 

But I could still list all the ways I love you. The way you laugh, how you squeeze your eyes shut and barely any sound comes out, the way your hair sits in the morning, your jokes and conversations, your respect for my space. You make me want to say thank you a million times over instead of sorry. You make me want to shout at the top of my lungs as we fight over coins or when I insist on paying for that one canned drink of yours. It’s like having a brother, a little bit. Some company, a friend who I can rely on truly. Not to say other people haven’t been there for me in the past. They have. But I haven’t been loved back so easily and unconditionally as this. I’ve never felt like someone genuinely enjoys my company, like someone’s eyes would search for me in a room, like someone would wait for me to hop on the train before they leave. Perhaps there is no difference and this is all in my head, but still, I love you, wholeheartedly, fiercely and with all of me. So what if it isn’t romantic? I don’t need kisses and presents and I love yous to burn the world down for you. I don’t need hugs and special gestures and late night texts to know I would gladly fight hundreds to defend you. Platonic or romantic, I love you. And it’s nice feeling like you love me too.

Perhaps you won’t ever understand what it means when you pass me a couple of coins, or why I smile so brightly when I meet your gaze. Why I cry when you say thank you or when you give something in return for buying you a drink (even if it is 20 cents). Perhaps I am a little broken, a little sore around the edges. Perhaps that’s why every little gesture makes me euphoric. It’s how I show my love, how I used to treat my friends and how I still do. So for you to do the same, to reciprocate in my own language of care and compassion and understanding, it means the whole world. It means everything to me. So thank you, thank you for all the little things, all the big things, thank you for understanding and thank you for accepting. Thank you for everything.

I love you, I love you, I love you. And I hope that you know that I love you. Because people like you and me, as I like to believe, we don’t get as much love as we need. We starve for company, companionship, understanding and support. And please, please know that I am here for you. I am here, willingly, unconditionally, without doubt and without fail. I will love you today, tomorrow, five years from now. I will love you when we grow old, when we grow apart, I would like to love you when the world ends and when the afterlife begins.

[worms-i-think]

just gonna ramble for a bit, if that’s okay. will be discussing pet loss and some grief processing so feel free to keep scrolling.

Sorry for the wall of text

it’s been a little over two weeks since you left us all behind with a gaping blank hole in our living room where you used to make your place. i miss you, and I can’t stand to go back home and look at that corner without seeing flecks of the soft bedding we got for you once your arthritis made the old type too uncomfortable, or the pen you always used to find ways to break out of when you were little. the metal made a super loud crash any time someone tripped over it, but I wish I could trip over it again million times again if it meant you were there waiting next to me. do you remember when I first saw you? the rest of the bunnies were playing around in the center of their enclosure, but you were too shy and cuddled next to the biggest one resting over by the side. I remember driving home in the car while my mom decided what to name you. I was four years old. Do you remember when my sister came? It’s strange to believe that as big as she’s gotten, you were here even before she was. She still feels bad for trying to pick you up by the leg when she was a toddler. I brought you to kindergarten with me—it was the best show and tell I could’ve hoped for, even when the cage we brought you in broke. But you didn’t leave, you just waited there until we brought you back home. And at that time you were small enough to stick your head out of the top of that log like a little ferret. You would break out of the pen all the time, ripping open the two Velcro straps that kept the pen closed so that you could wander around the couch and surprise us when we watched TV. Then, when we fixed the Velcro because we thought it might be a safety hazard when we weren’t around, you’d push your igloo around and use it as a step stool to climb onto the top of the cage, and then jump down to explore. My mom says that one time when we were at school, you ventured all the way into the kitchen to see her when she was on the phone. The stairs were always too big for you to climb, but we carried you up to hang out in our rooms anyway. I watched YouTube videos with you when you weren’t well enough to walk anymore. I wish that that last day I held you I could’ve held on for longer.

You were fourteen and a half; I barely have a memory from before the time you were in my life. I’m not sure how much rabbits think, but I know from the way you welcomed out care, from how you did your happy bunny dance around the ottoman, from how you were the rock of my brother’s life in his worst of times, that you demonstrated love in the best way you could. I like to think that you were a schemer; we’d been calling you a grumpy old man for years before now because you’ve exceeded all expectations with how long you were around. Every vet you went to see said you were the oldest bunny they’d seen, and you were doing so well despite your illness. I miss your silly hairstyle and your mustache and the few small spots that line down your butt. I miss you sitting on my stomach when I lay on the floor. I miss the way I filled your water bottle on school nights, even when I complained about how it was a chore, and I want to go back and find the little turtle charm that marked the water level. I should’ve fed you more treats, but I’m glad my sister gave you a whole banana like I suggested on your last morning. I hope you got your fill. I know you don’t miss me giving you eye drops and liquid medications, because I know you didn’t like it, but I miss it, sitting across from you before I went upstairs to bed. I liked to lower the lights when I turned them off so you weren’t suddenly in darkness, and my brother sang you songs in the mornings and evenings. Mom always made sure you ‘gave’ us special treats for holidays and birthdays. She cried over the phone the last time I called. Even though to my dad you started as a substitute for a cat (he is allergic) or a dog (he has a phobia), he loved you for being you and always made sure you had the best. We have been restless without you. Rabbits are wonderful but silent creatures (except for when you sneezed) and I think for that reason they are often overlooked in the realm of domestic pets because not many people take the time to view their personality. You were bursting with it. I want it back. I hope that in the time between your passing and mine you wait for me but enjoy yourself in wait; I hope you meet the old friend you loved and make new ones; I hope I stop being so afraid of my memory because the more times someone remembers things, the more the mind changes them. And I don’t want to change anything I remember about you, but I don’t want to forget either. I love you a million times over, and I will miss you forever, buddy

[l-resonant-l]

I don’t know if you’ll see this. I don’t really think it’s for you to see.

I don’t actually think of you much at all anymore, but I was scrolling through my old messages looking for a contact and I saw our messages.

Saw how we said goodbye.

Maybe saying I don’t think of you sounds defensive, but I saw your name and didn’t recognize it for a moment. It made me a bit sad.

I read all our messages back as if it were the first time,

I felt my mind go back through that time machine,

But this time I saw everything you didn’t know you said.

I’ve grown so much more in these years than I thought possible in two years.

To be honest, despite how sure I acted that I knew what I was doing, I wasn’t.

I wasn’t sure at all.

But that’s what I wanted. I was so tired of living my whole life based on the opinions of those around me, so sure they knew what and how to think, things I’d never know.

I wanted something for the first time in as long as I can remember. It was dangerous, and stupid, and possibly not even real, but I wanted it. So I took hold of them with every fiber of my being and refused to let go.

I wasn’t sure, but

If you don’t trust me how can you see me as an equal?

Very easily? I don't have to trust anyone with everything. Not trusting you doesn't mean I'm going to try control you. I trust you with my freindship, I trust you with secrets, I trust you with a lot. But I don't trust you to get your homework done, or that you will get a job, or that youll remember commitments, and you don't trust yourself with that either. I don't trust your judgment but I do respect it.

I have a chronic illness it turns out. I won’t heal, but I can think now, now that I have treatment. I can move. I can sleep. I can exist with manageable pain. I can work I can live, I do things.

It’s a strange I don’t miss you, but I mourn the faith I had in you.

But that’s what all our relationships with you were. You surrounded yourself with hurt people, and supported them, unless they actually gained confidence. Then you poke holes in their newborn ego.

Dont treat me like one of your abusive family members that you're realizing is toxic. If you can admit your judgment is sometimes incorrect (like idk, multiple abusive boyfriends?) then you can understand how I may not 100% trust your judgement. That is very different from controlling you or not respecting you

I don’t know

Maybe I’m wrong

Maybe I’m wrong

Or maybe-

I asked if I could make the caramelized carrots my dad never got to have on his last thanksgiving before he died, you told me no one would eat them so there’s no point. You took a knife out of my hand and said you didn’t trust me to cut vegetables. I told you my life and you used it like a weapon to make me doubt myself.

Maybe it doesn’t matter

My friend and I laugh as we cooked and drank together.

Maybe they like me

My housemate thanks me for setting up the system of jobs and chores for the household.

Maybe I’m good at some things

My boyfriend buzzes about how we could program the map and weather generator for my dnd world.

Maybe someone cares about my interests

My partner hugs me, and says they don’t know how they got so lucky.

Maybe I’m worthy of love

My father in law gushes about the ring set I chose, with a million year old meteorite embedded.

Maybe I can be

My child asks me to play before bed time as we discuss the dog we want to get in the next home. They come to me after they have a nightmare. I sit beside their bed and as their breathing slows I hear them mumble softly “I love you,” and I whisper back “I love you too sweetheart”

I am happy

[danandphilchronology]

Sebastian: Universe Defender + Psycho Boyfriend!

Sebastian: Universe Defender

Psycho Boyfriend!

Sebastian: Universe Defender

I’m going to ditch the wayback machine for a while. I might decide to take a peak and let you know what else was going on in the YouTube community, but I’m going to shift my focus to the content! We are starting today with a video uploaded in October of 2008 and based solely on the title and the little bit of the description I can see right off the bat, I am thinking that Phil is blessing me with another short film style video. 

I am interested to see what his content continuous to grow as while he is back at University! From what I know of the Phil Lore, he has graduated with is bachelors already (correct me if I’m wrong) and he is working on his Masters in Video Post Production at University of York. 

Something that I think is very interesting is at how quickly we (as a society of social media consumers) are so quick to discount content creators intelligence and smarts. Dan and Phil are perfect examples of this because of the fun and ditzy content they create. They are some very down to earth creators who are not afraid to connect with their audience, but, at the end of the day, they are some of the most well performing and creative content creators. Between the two of them they have a handful of films, a career on radio, three New York Times #1 best selling books, three world wide tours, and two original games. They were, and arguably still are, a social media empire all on their own, but the internet, and even their most loyal followers, discount their wit and smarts because silly little twink duo make booby joke. 

ANYWAY, we are here to react to a 15 year old AmazingPhil video, not write a novel on how poorly the internet treats it’s creators.

This immediately have me deja vu (which I think was the point considering the drink in the video is literally called deja vu), so I looked back in my notes to see if this was reminding me of something we had already watched OR if I am thinking of one of his more recent videos. I didn’t find anything blaringly obvious, so I am going to make a mental note to keep an eye out for anything like this in the future. The closest think I could find was Jonathan and Mary Beth Argue with the sprite, but… it is not the same thing. Someone needs to really tell Phil not to take things from Stangers, especially those in long trench coats with suspiciously packaged sodas. This video, while short, is actually such a fun and creative idea about timeloops and what could be the pointlessness in attempting to travel back in time to stop something from happening. Honestly, such a fun video. Would watch again. 

Total Watch Time 27m 12s

Psycho Boyfrined!

I am immediately interested based solely on the title because I am disgusting. That is, honestly, the only reason. I love looking back at older videos and overanalyzing moments in order to say things like “omg was that a soft gay?”, and I used to feel back about it until Dan and Phil reacted to all the PINOF videos, and now I feel like I have been allowed. Anyway this video is less than a minute, so I don’t expect to get much out of it, but it has 1.3 million views, so maybe its worth the watch.

… Phil is so clearly attracted to vampires that it is uncomfortable. This video has the same energy as his newest AITA. Like “who cares if he got hit by a car. He is already at the hospital” and “she didn’t die or anything and I get the day off”. Phil really is Mr. Silver Lining. This was actually crazy and I don’t even know what else to say about it…

Total Watch Time 27m 51s

[solarasnotions]

From Burnout to a Fresh Start.

Burnout is trending across social media as a mood that we embrace to cope with overwhelm and loss of interest in what we once deemed good. To overcome it, we tend to put a band-aid on the cuts- but they’re too deep to not properly treat. So, how do we treat these wounds? Most importantly: when we are exhausted from life and when it is time to reevaluate, where do we start?

By deconstructing yourself, it is possible to see how multi-faceted and important you truly are. We all have roles in the realm of our mental reality and what we perceive as our physical world. Some of us are mechanics, some of us are teachers, and some of us are retirees. We are childless bachelorettes, involved fathers, and orphans. We are different roles to different characters in all of our collective stories- perhaps you are a daughter to your mother, but also a grandmother to your grandchild. We cannot be limited to being only one thing in this life because we are, without debate, a million different things all at once. We are brother, we are uncle, we are employee, we are slave. We are whatever we choose to be, yet we are also many different roles; many of which, ultimately, we have no choice in.

“We cannot be limited to being only one thing  in this life because we are,  without debate, a million different things all at once.”

So, who are you? In your current state of being, are you a mother? Did you, and do you, choose to be? Are you a baker? Do you like that about yourself? Are you a writer? Are you good? Are you successful? Are you fed? Are you a caretaker? Are you ugly? Do you bring hope to others? Are you a failure? Are you a thinker? Hello! Are you even there?

To better understand who you are, it is important to include who you are to others. Our relationships should, ideally, motivate us toward happiness and peaceful existence; however, this is not always the case. Perhaps you are the villain in someone else’s story- perhaps that is a title rightfully earned or wrongfully earned. If you can examine, without bias, exactly who you are to others, you can ask the next big question- why?

“Perhaps you are the villain in someone else’s story- perhaps that is a title rightfully earned or wrongfully earned.”

We all make choices, and they are part of what makes us our own unique identity. As for me personally, I made the choice to have a baby when I was eighteen years old; I also make the choice every day to care for that baby, who is now in the second grade. That makes me a mother. Why am I a mother? Because I choose to be. Why do I choose to be? Because I feel like my child will benefit from my involvement in her life. Why do I feel that way? It is part of my value system to put my child’s wellbeing on a pedestal… and so forth.

The lists of “what’s” and “why’s” can go on endlessly, but you can stop once you are confident in the truest definitions of the roles you play. Upon learning and describing who your character is currently, you might delve into your past a bit, dipping your toes in the water of what was good, bad, ugly, or melancholy. Events and experiences trigger reasoning for the choices we make, giving us our concrete “why” answer in many cases. Don’t get stuck in this segment of self-reflection, however; spend most of your time in the present, so as not to suffer repeatedly for mistakes which have already come and gone.

“Events and experiences trigger reasoning for the choices we make, giving us our concrete “why”.”

When you know your what and why, you can define your character. You can edit your avatar. You can decide what you want to keep and what you want to delete. You can dye your hair periwinkle to signify a new chapter with this well-developed character, or you can simply take a deep breath and then walk onto the next page with nothing but a feeling of knowledge-of-self and hope to carry you forward.

When you are stuck in a rut, sometimes it is better to deconstruct yourself before the world can deconstruct you. Feel the moment, but move past it. Remember your why, remember who you are, and embrace the next variation.

[cynthiamarielee]

On May 28th I had to have a D&C- an abortion. I had only known I was pregnant for a week, if I hadn’t known I would have thought the agonizing cramps and bleeding was the start of my period, that the shakes were like normal, that the lightheadedness was just from starting my period, that fighting to stay awake was just because I was tired, the pain was from the cramps, not from my fallopian tube rupturing, not from the almost 6 centimeters of blood clots in my body. If I did not have that abortion I would have died- I was actively bleeding internally and blood was building up in my stomach. My baby didn’t have a chance at survival, it would not have had the chance of a heartbeat any way you spin it. In a Catholic hospital in a red state I had an abortion. At 21 years old I was pregnant, was internally bleeding, had my fallopian tube surgically removed, and was sent home. I took all the precautions I could and still became pregnant. I’m one of the extremely lucky ones who was listened to and cared for. I had and still have a heartbeat after having an abortion in a CATHOLIC hospital in a RED STATE. Does this make me dirty? Damned? Unworthy? Does it make you uncomfortable? Do you look at me differently?

Ectopic pregnancy’s are hard to diagnose, 1 in 80 women in America alone end up having an ectopic pregnancy, the only way to live is to have an abortion. You can take the pill, you can have surgery to remove the pregnancy and possibly save the fallopian tube, or you have to remove the entire tube. The baby will not survive, the woman will not survive unless there is medical intervention, like an abortion. Do you think I wanted to be told I needed to have my blood drawn multiple times until my HCG levels went down to 0? Do you think I wanted these scars on my body, reminding me of who I used to be? Do you think I want to feel the need to take a pregnancy test after every period because the blood triggers the memories of what happened to me? Do you think I wanted this to end going home with a folder of resources instead of my baby? Do you think I wanted an abortion?

No woman wants to have an abortion, they grieve what could have been every day. From May 28th 2024 my life will forever be split in two. The life I live now and the life I could have had.

Abortions are healthcare. If you take away abortions you are damning the lives of millions of women every where who will find a way to get it done themselves. They will drink the tea, use a hanger, or do something worse.

Those women have heartbeats too. Why do we only care about the babies inside them? Why is it that as soon as the baby is born you don’t care about either the woman or the child? Why is it that as a first world country we have the leading record of loss of life in childbirth? Why are women treated as breeding mares then discarded once you have no use of us? Why do we wait until almost halfway through the pregnancy to see our baby?

If I had gotten an ultrasound earlier then maybe I would have just taken the pill, not be cut open and left with three scars on my stomach for anyone to see. Why does my skin burn with the shame of living? Why have I not talked about this, out of fear of friends and family looking at me differently? Why do I have to grieve and be scared to grieve, because someone may decide I shouldn’t when I’m a “murderer”?

Im not a murderer, neither are the surgeons that saved my life. The women who have had to have an abortion and the doctors who performed them are not murderers, they are doing the best they can with the hand they were dealt.

Navaeh Crain had a heartbeat, her baby did not. Her baby didn’t have a chance at survival, but Navaeh did. In a red state a dead baby was worth more than a teenager with a heartbeat. A teenager who had so much left to do in her life. Instead she died from sepsis, because the doctors sent her home. Navaeh died an agonizing death that was entirely preventable.

That very easily could have been me. In a Catholic hospital in a red state that could have been me.

Because I had an abortion I was able to go on a dream vacation with my fiance , I was able to see Glass Animals, I was able to move into my first house with my fiance, I was able to see Gracie Abrams and Taylor Swift, I’m able to go back to school this spring, I get to see my sister grow into an adult and do everything she’s wanted. I am able to live.

Navaeh and so many other women who needed an abortion to live were not listened to because doctors and surgeons cannot perform these LIFE SAVING PROCEDURES. Those women had heartbeats too, why were they not able to be saved?

[minusgangtime]

Apocalyptic kitty crew batch 6 bios:

“I’m..I’m okie.~”

Name:Cocoa

Age: 10

Status: infected (stage 2 of zombie infection.)

Feeling: neutral

Bio: she tried her best to follow s’mores orders of staying inside. However,at one point when seeing a zombie broke in the house,her emotions took hold and she bit the zombie,she ended up accidentally swallowing the decayed blood as she was pushed off the zombie,causing her to get another type of zombie infection. It seems that the inside her mouth is decaying first,rather than a bite mark. She as a result can have random spurts of stomach aches or cramps,sometimes it gets so bad she can vomit. Despite this,she is still the same,optimistic and friendly.~

“It’s my fault..everything’s my fault..”

Name: s’mores

Age: 18

Status: healthy

Feeling: guilty

Bio: after cocoa got infected,s’mores became guilty and depressed,blaming herself for everything..maybe she could’ve recovered,but what no one else knew,the glitch had possessed her mirror,telling her about her failures..while always proposing a deal,accept them and they can take her away..as if right now,she hasn’t given in,but she’s incredibly tired and she’s gained scratches on her arm..these weren’t accidental..

“I know stuff is bad,but I won’t give into the despair of the world..~”

Name: moon

Age: 20

Status: healthy

Feeling: hopeful

Bio: not much has changed about moon,she has stayed unshakingly optimistic during the two years of hell. Some of her siblings confronted her,asking her if she just didn’t care. To with she told them “no,I do care,I’m very aware what’s going on. But I still wanna make my family smile,and give them something to hope for!~”.

“I feel so alone..”

Name: Scott

Age: 20

Status: healthy

Feeling: lonely

Bio: Scott to this day,is grieving the disappearance of the gang. And given that a decent amount of the crew is not up for chatting,Scott just hid away in his room,feeling incredibly lonely..he often cries either in his sleep or crying in his sleep..thinking about his old life and old perfect family..

“You mess with the shark,you get these teeth!”

Name: Vress

Age: 20

Status: immune

Feeling: neutral

Bio: once the crew was allowed to fight,vress was informed via blood test that he was immune,which he was elated about. When he’s in the house,he’s the same as he’s always been. When defending the house though,he’s a ruthless carnivore. He acts just like a shark,giving into his feral impulses,treating the infected like another shark he’s fighting,or pray. And he doesn’t stop until the infected are killed,or have fled. Afterwards,he tends to take long baths to wash off the mess on his body and to relive his blood pressure and relax.

“I CANT DO ANYTHING!..”

Name: Cooper

Age: 20

Status: healthy

Feeling: stressed

Bio: cooper repeatedly tried to understand what was going on,how darkon was this powerful,how these infectious worked..what could be the cure? How can they overcome this? When he’s not playing or comforting someone else,he’s thinking about this,it as a result has made him incredibly stressed and prone to angry outbursts..

“D-Don’t worry about me,I’ll be o-ok!”

Name: Screwball

Age: 20

Status: infected (stage 3 of glitch infection.)

Feeling: optimistic

Bio: when scarlet was about to be consumed. Someone jumped into the ocean to darkness to save her..that someone,was screwball. Now,the consequence of her bravery can be seen,her body under her dress is entirely black,just simply composed of the glitchy infection. Her once two colored eyes are now a glowing white. She doesn’t have any control of her new power unlike the others,often randomly teleporting when sneezing,spazzing out when emotional and not knowing how to use her powers,at all. Despite this,she’s still as positive and sweet as ever,commonly saying “I’d easily swim through the glitch a million times to save my crew.~”

“Since the world chooses to fight me,I’ll become its most stubborn enemy.”

Name: Rattle

Age: 20

Status: infected (stage 2 of zombie infection.)

Feeling: determined

Bio: one unfortunate day when rattle was fighting infected,one of them had managed to bite his tail,getting him infected. However,despite this. He refuses to stay down,he fights physical and mental battles with the world and his condition everyday,even when he wants to give up,he keeps trudging,no matter what. Cause he knows he can get through this dark era,and that his family needs him. And he will always be loyal to them.

“ there may be no cure,but that won’t stop us from trying to help the world.”

Name: Wallace

Age: 27

Status: healthy

Feeling: neutral

Bio: Wallace knew the possibility of a cure was very unlikely. And sure enough,as of right now,there is no cure. However,he has been studying the infected,trying to see what makes them tick and how the infected crew can better their conditions,he was the one who helped the glitched and corrupted infected find thier “cure.”

“I’m not safe here anymore!..”

Name: Willow

Age: 20

Status: healthy

Feeling: paranoid

Bio: Willow has not left her room since the beginning,she is deathly scared of the infected and the world,flambé had to bring her food cause she to this day is too scared to leave her room..

-mod shelby

(🥺)

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

The End of Year Movie Roundup You Didn't Know You Wanted (And Don't)

Crikey Mc Crikington IV! It’s been an interesting couple of years in the world of movies and TV, hasn’t it? Ever since 2016, it’s felt like good movies and TV shows are rare gems bobbing around in a sea of filth, never getting the attention they deserve and then disappearing back into the undifferentiated swill of garbage. It’s not that good stuff hasn’t been getting made- it’s just that it’s been struggling in a landscape dominated by absolute, reeking arse. But since, ooh, the latter part of 2022 to now, things feel a bit different, don’t they? It seems like the good stuff has been gaining ground; that- for a change- neither the alt-right, froth-mouthed dicks or the woke-washed virtue-signalling shitheads are winning the culture war. Instead, actual culture seems to be winning. Fancy fucking that. Of course, when I say ‘culture’, I don’t necessarily mean high culture. Nope. I’m talkin’ ‘bout that sweeeeet pop and pulp culture, y’all! Of course, there’s been a fair amount of blithering crap, too, but with the companies that push it (mainly Disney) haemorrhaging money like someone stabbed a bank, most of it feels increasingly irrelevant. So, I’m going to use this blog to deliver capsule reviews of the things that- to me- exemplify the best of last couple of years of pop culture, meaning some cack will make it into the mix. They’re not in chronological order or anything, by the way (though I have stuck the films ahead of the TV series). They’re just in the order that I felt like writing about them. Oh, boohoo, cry me a fucking river- it’s not like you pay for this shit.

John Wick Chapter 4 You’d think watching Keanu Reeves get thrown down stairs and off tall objects would eventually get old but, for some reason, it really, really doesn’t. The John Wick films are truly excellent pieces of cinema and have been from the start. Aside from being incredibly satisfying, violent, gritty revenge movies with fight choreography that would give Ghandi a hardon, they’re also beautiful, intricate exercises in subtle, intelligent world-building in which just a few key words or phrases- or a carefully-selected symbolic object- can pack an enormous amount of information into a few seconds. Oh, and they’re contemplations on the nature of honour and consequences that somehow transcend and act as a comment upon the genre of their birth without ever feeling like a trite condemnation or deconstruction of it. The fourth part does an excellent job of tying the series-thus-far together and providing a meaningful conclusion, which also happens to come loaded with some of the most brilliantly inventive action sequences of any movie from the past fifty years, a sound-track to die for and set-dressing to fucking drool over. No, it won’t be the last one of these- the films make too much money to just bury after four, despite the very final ending- but I appreciate that the movie treats itself as a finale and actually pays off and ties up all the storylines we’ve so far encountered. It’s nice to see a movie that acts like a movie rather than a mere episode of something; that has the panache to commit to the pretence of to its own myth-making. Easily one of my favourite flicks for a good, long time.

Smile Have I reviewed this before? I don’t remember or care: it’s so good, I’ll happily tell you how good it is a million times! In horror films, mental illness is very often the seasoning on a big plate of terrifying shizz, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it used as effectively as it is here, with the main character understanding from the get-go that the supernatural horror she’s experiencing mimicks a mental breakdown and tailoring her responses and survival strategies accordingly. Meanwhile, the unnamed entity manipulates perception and its victim’s psychopathology in a way that’s clearly designed to eat away at her sense of reality while also making other people think she’s crazy and alienating her from her support network. The result is a tense, terrifying cat-and-mouse game between an intelligent, adaptable protagonist with wits and an actual, physical body on their side and an unknowable, awful entity with absolute power over their perception of reality but no corporeal form with which to threaten them. The threat feels plausible and horrifying, but we- as viewers- never become inured to it, because it also seems surmountable: we don’t just switch off and accept the lead character’s fate (a problem with a lot of horror movies) because there is a chance of survival, and we feel that right from the off. The body-horror reveal of the monster’s true form (or, at least, the form it chooses to project during the final stages of its assault) is spectacular, gripping and shit-your-pants scary. Seriously, this film won’t just have made money for cinemas: it will have saved countless laundromats and dry-cleaners from going out of business. It’s trouser-ruiningly good. If you need to be scared out of your tiny mind at short notice, I can whole-heartedly recommend Smile.

Luther: The Fallen Sun Fuckin’ Nora, Idris, do you want some mash to go with this absolute banger of a movie? I found out after watching it that this flick got mediocre reviews and that really only serves to demonstrate that most film critics couldn’t find their arses with a state-of-the-art laser-guided arse-finding system. I suspect that the problem most critics had is that they went in expecting a police procedural and got a neo-noir thriller in which the method of investigation is less important than the spectacular nature of the crime, the heroism of the protagonist and the character of the setting. This is a slick, stylish little movie, polished until it slightly outshines most supernovas. It’s set predominantly in a version of London that feels less like the modern world and more like the city in the grip of the Crays- its like a parallel universe where the tropes and aesthetic preoccupations of the Diamond Geezer era never went away and instead evolved alongside technology. That was also the original Luther series, of course, so you’d think people would know what to expect, but it’s been awhile since that aired and modern critics and audiences apparently have the memory spans of fucking grasshoppers. Now, to return to the point: style, an interesting world, a compellingly psychotic villain and the presence of Idris Elba all make this a good film, but the reason it’s a great film is much more basic: it actually makes you feel things. It depresses me that the bar has sunk that low in recent years, since movies purport to be art and the whole point of art is to make you feel stuff, but very few modern movies have engaged me like Luther, which absolutely nails its pacing, scripting and acting to produce something that hits right in the soul. Without spoiling anything, there’s a bit involving a room filling with gasoline while a filament slowly heats up to ignition-temperature… and halfway through, I realised my heart was racing, my palms were starting to sweat and I was clenching my teeth, desperately hoping that the two characters trapped inside would make it out alright- even though I’d spent most of the movie wanting to slap one of them. I’ve seen movies with clashing armies and exploding planets that felt less epic. A truly well-crafted movie can do more with a single lit fuse than a standard-issue flick can achieve with an entire fireworks display. And that’s why you ought to see this movie.

If you’ll permit me to go a bit meta before we move on, this is also the thing I’ve been begging for since the BBC ruined Doctor Who and deprived me of a lead in the mainstream media I could relate to and root for. I mean, I know Doctor Who's good again now anyway, but I appreciate this too. We’ve got a British hero who thinks his way around problems and displays a laudable- even noble- version of masculinity that’s been missing from screens for a really long time (and he gets to be the hero right up until the end- there’s no fucking bait-and-switch bullshit here). We’ve got a world that’s sufficiently different from the real world to be worth exploring. We’ve got absolutely zero virtual-signalling impinging on the plot and characterisation. And that’s it. This is literally all I fucking wanted. Not so fucking hard, was it, mainstream media? Why the fuck did I have to wait so fucking long?

Oppenheimer And now, ladies and gentlemen, we come to a piece of cinema so glorious- so beautifully-crafted and intricate and meaningful- that I have absolutely no hesitation in calling it the best movie of the decade. I also have no hesitation in calling it ‘Boppenheimer’, because it is an absolute fucking bop and I’ll fight anyone who says different. Folks, if this movie is still playing at a cinema near you, go and see it. If it’s not, find some other way to see it. This isn’t just the height of Christopher Nolan’s movie-making career- the apotheosis of his talents and a showcase for the amazing actors he can attract- it’s also a true cultural moment: something that everyone should share in and appreciate together. It’s hard to describe what makes this film so fucking good, but you know what? I’m going to have a crack at it! Ostensibly, it’s a retelling of the invention of the atomic bomb and the aftermath of its first detonations in a theatre of war. But it’s so, so much more. It’s a character study reflecting on the motives, flaws and redemptive qualities of a Jewish man terrified that Nazi Germany would unlock the power of the atom before the allies. It’s a reappraisal of this man- who has oft been condemned for bringing such an evil invention into the world- recognising that he was a pawn of much darker forces doing what little he could do to spare the world yet greater evils. It’s an exposé of the way the US government of the time exploited and then tossed aside the nation’s brightest minds; using their insight and intellectual labour but refusing to listen to their dire warnings about the misuse of the power they were developing. It’s a study of the prejudices and flawed relations that characterised life in the 1940s and 50s. It’s a deep dive into the workings of the mid-20th Century scientific community. It is, quite simply, brilliant. From its visualisation of atomic physics to the ingenious ways it finds to show Oppenheimer’s doubt and guilt over the use of his weapon, Oppenheimer is a once-in-a-generation piece of media whose import and significance can’t and shouldn’t be denied. I thoroughly expect it to take its place in the western cinematic canon alongside Citizen Kane, Doctor Strangelove, The Seventh Seal, Alien, The Truman Show and other lightning-in-a-bottle one-offs whose existence could never have been conceived before they came screaming into existence with the swagger of inevitability and- appropriately in this case- the explosive roar of sheer newness.

Er… I really like this film.

Slumberland And now, a family film! A fucking excellent family film, in fact! Loosely based on the Little Nemo in Slumberland comic strips from the 1930s (and I do mean loosely), it’s a movie about a troubled young girl dealing with tragedy by escaping into a very literal world of dreams, which ultimately serves as the route and method by which she forges new, meaningful connections in the waking world. And if that sounds a little heavy, don’t panic: there’s also a scene in which we learn that the most popular dream in Canada involves riding a giant goose like a fucking dragon. I don’t want to spoil too much of this one, because every dream sequence and plot-point is delightfully inventive and unexpected and really deserves to be experienced fresh. It’s rare to stumble onto something so thoroughly and completely charming and it’s always refreshing when you do. Slumberland handles important themes with a lightness and dextrousness that makes them accessible and comprehensible to the younger members of its audience while keeping its world and plot vital and interesting for older viewers who might already have had their fill of such themes. Normally, I’d deduct points for gender-flipping the main character from the source material, but on this occasion it’s a bit of a non-issue. The Nemo of the comics was a bit of cipher and- if you really need him to be in it, it’s kind of heavily implied that this Nemo’s father was the original. Besides which, Jason Mamoa’s over-exuberant dream-dweller, ‘Flip’, provides a sympathetic masculine presence for any young lads in the audience and he gets nearly as much screen time as the ostensible POV character. So, having addressed the elephant in the room, all that remains to say is: THIS IS A VERY FUCKING GOOD FAMILY FILM. Though maybe not quite as good as…

Puss in Boots: The Last Wish Excuse me, but what fucking right does this film have to be as good as it is? I mean, it’s a spin-off of a minor character from the Shrek films about a talking cat going on a quest to find a magic star that grants wishes. Why the fuck is it one of the best things I’ve seen in years? I mean, on the surface, it’s just a really fun family flick. It’s funny; its set-pieces are creative; its characters are entertaining and larger than life; its animation style is fresh and frankly enchanting. But then it also decided that it wanted to be a meditation on confronting the ageing process and its implied threat of mortality. And it fucking nails it. It’s not prescriptive or lecturing: it sympathises with Puss’s fears as he realises he’s used up all but one of his nine lives… but it ultimately shows that his increasing age doesn’t have to define him. Add a few quiet, tender moments of the kind often missing from the hyperactive movies of the last few years, a wonderfully psychotic villain and a B-plot about the value of found families, bonded by love rather than blood, and what you have is a truly excellent slice of entertainment that wears its heart on its sleeve and, in a landscape littered with insincere corporate garbage, is remarkable for its sincerity.

A Haunting in Venice Okay, brutal honesty time: Kenneth Brannaugh (who I just misspelled) isn’t as good in the role of Poirot as David Suchet was. However, it feels unfair to judge him or his take on Agatha Christie’s classic mysteries by that metric, since Suchet’s Poirot was a spectacular, long-running, genre-defining figure who probably won’t be equalled in televised detection fiction any time this millennium. Judged on its own merits, A Haunting in Venice is a deliciously intricate, intelligently-realised film which succeeds in saying something new about its central character and doing something new with its genre. Loosely based on Christie’s The Halloween Party, A Haunting in Venice takes on the overtones of a horror story and pits Poirot against forces that may be genuinely supernatural in a setting and world that embraces gothic aesthetics and conceits as much as it does those of the detective-genre. I don’t want to give too much away, but I will see that A Haunting in Venice finds just the right balance between horror and rationality and toys with ambiguity in a way that a lot of modern movies- keen to over-explain things to an imagined audience of thickos- might miss. It also knows how to treat its subject matter with sobriety when it counts without sacrificing an overall sense of playfulness.

A final note: its predecessor, Death on the Nile, was probably the weakest of the Brannaugh trilogy (and Venice does feel like the final entry in a trilogy), despite the welcome presence of Dawn French as an eccentric communist lesbian. Death on the Nile made its Poirot a little too prickly and unforgiving and also had him reflect Christie’s real-life conservative-with-a-small-c politics, which (though confined to one or two lines) made for uncomfortable viewing at best. While I understand the intention was to contrast him against characters who today’s viewers would find more relatable, it served to rob the protagonist of some of his wisdom and mystery (Poirot needn’t be a paragon of progressivism- in fact, that would be just as bad- but he ought to be above such things; a rarefied figure concerned less with politics than his own moral imperatives). Luckily, Venice seems to have learned from these mistakes and eschews even minor forays into politics, preferring instead to focus on character drama and a battle between rationality and magical thinking to generate its various tensions. Yeah. Good choice.

Peacemaker That more or less does it for the films (well, the good films- the dreck will get their own blog at some point), but there’s still a couple of telly shows I want to talk about. Starting with this one! Peacemaker is one of the funniest, most over-the-top shows of the last ten years. Billed as a superhero program, it’s really more a comedy and ode to schlocky pop culture framed that uses a superhero story as a framing device. While it also has some important and timely things to say about the threat of climate crisis and ends on a bit of a downer (which I won’t spoil), the overall experience is one of hilarious, ludicrous, over-the-top scenes punctuated by some of the best heavy rock ever used in any show’s soundtrack and a lot of down-time devoted exclusively to really, really funny dialogue. If you liked Archer but felt it could benefit from more heavy metal interludes, the comedy here is very much in the same style: people talking at cross-purposes in a way that leverages their clashing belief systems, background and mental illnesses for comic effect. Ultimately, as with Archer, its acerbic tartness also serves as cover for a heart of gold. There’s no meanness of spirit or coldness to Peacemaker. If anything, I’d describe its approach to characterisation as joyously redemptive, while its overt inclusivity isn’t the clinical box-ticking of most Hollywood ‘diversity’, but rather seems to stem from an all-embracing, eclectic fascination with the way human beings are shaped by background and divergent life-experiences. It’s really, really good to see this done well for a change.

Oh, and there’s bits that are also a bit sexy.

One Piece I never got round to watching the original One Piece anime, despite my abiding affection for Japanese animation. That wasn’t a deliberate thing- there was just always something else to watch first. As it turns out, that was a stroke of luck, since I now get to watch the English-language, live-action adaptation fresh and it’s a fucking delight. It’s also so profoundly weird that I have no idea how to explain why it’s so good to a normal, sane reader. Between the violently revolutionary fish people, the murder-clowns with detachable body parts, the fruits that give you superpowers, the badass martial-arts chefs arguing over oregano, the sexy, plus-sized pirate queens, the sea-snails that act like living telephones and the high-ranking military leaders with very silly hats, it’s kind of hard to know where to start. What I can tell you is that the whole world of One Piece is absolutely fascinating: a nautical civilisation of a thousand islands whose technology seems to have evolved in such a way that sail-based ship-travel, gunpowder cannons and neon lights are all in use at the same time; where traditional aristocratic societies coexist with violent samurai clans; where piracy is less a crime than a lifestyle choice. I can tell you its characters are compelling and ridiculous… yet also compellingly, sincerely heroic in a way that western-origin protagonists are rarely allowed to be, lest the show-runners be accused of reinscribing toxic ideals. I can tell you that the fight scenes are epic and the special effects regard little things like physics with a magnificent degree of contempt. And, of course, I can tell you that it’s bloody good fun.

Doctor Who 2023 Specials After a shaky start with The Star Beast (which kinda felt like the first draft of a better script to me- see my full review) the Who specials shaped up to be some of the best telly in years- high concept sci-fi and cosmic horror seen through the lens of off-beat humour and silliness that my home country still does better than anywhere else. After the wilderness of the Chibnall/Whitaker years, the specials felt like getting Doctor Who back as an early Xmas present. I won’t go on and on here since I’ve written several full reviews for the individual episodes, but I feel it’s important to state again my delight that this exists.

And that’s probably enough to be getting on with, don’t you think? Well, guess what: you don’t get a vote! This is the end of the blog whether you like it or not. You can piss off now.

[sab3rto0thed]

five years ago, i didn’t know how to dream of a future. my future consisted of days blurring together, all becoming the same. no one and nothing was important to me. i was a waste of space. i still am.

if it was up to me, i’d say i would dream of having our own place. you’re not engaged. i’m not confined to this town. we’re in new york or something. a dream land. you’re laying on a mattress we just bought, and you’re in just your bra, your stomach sly against the ceiling fan. i carefully balance orange peels on your skin until you laugh and they all come sliding off. we are happy.

my parents always told me that i never understood what love was, especially not when i was thirteen. and i guess that’s true enough. i still don’t know what love is. but i don’t think it’s fair to claim that i didn’t know what love was. i did love you. i only knew the parts of you that you shared, careful and precise, a surgeon cutting away an infection. but i loved those parts as much as i could.

everything was so simple. my world had no meaning and i had no history. i was always nothing unless i was beside you, in which i was always something. you treated me like a person. i loved your voice. i loved the way you pronounced things. i loved your mouth and your hair. 

you’re twenty-one, you’re engaged. i missed your birthday, which is a little weird. i thought i would be wishing you happy birthday for the rest of my life. may 21, i think. you’re a taurus. 

you and your spiral of mediocre men. i know you went through some truly horrible shit. i tried so hard to protect you, like i do everything in my life that i love. the only thing i really succeeded in protecting you from was myself, and even then, that dam broke. you were the only thing i had for a very long time. my reason for waking and my reason for sleeping. when i hated everything, i loved you. that doesn’t happen anymore.

i wanted to go to wisconsin, because you lived there. wisconsin. my dad was going to visit family, and i thought, i will go. we will see each other, cross supermarkets, happen to be in the same place at the same time despite me having no idea where you lived and you having no idea i would be there. it was the first time i had thought of something like that. a future outside of my bedroom. you.

we never met. you told me you were bisexual and i felt like i could swallow the world. i was always more when i was with you. i had no history to protect you from. it was just quiet. it was a ceiling fan, orange peels, whatever else. we would’ve been okay.

i haven’t been able to love anyone the way i loved you, boy or girl. you broke my heart a million different times. i don’t think i would ever be able to give that much of myself to someone again. i was thirteen. you were sixteen. i’m older than you were when i met you, can you believe it?

it’s june again. i don’t think of you often anymore. when i do, it is with detached affection. i’ve lost that reckless joy. it is no longer mine, to have and to hold. weddings vows. i’m old enough to marry you. it would never work.

in another universe, it would be us, peeling oranges under our ceiling fan in new york. i love you. you love me. for these versions of us, it is enough. 

it is june. when i think of pride, i think of you.