#I still can’t fucking spell it

[abstractdiagram]

Hellooooo down there! Ye be warned TMI and bizzarity (is that a word?) is ahead.

I have been stuck in a loop of WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY DRAFTS

FOR THIRTY MINUTES!

Finally found them by signing in on not-mobile and dicking about there for far too long. Guess what. No fuckin drafts. So I had a lovely preface basically for this same post but now I’ve lost two trains of thought and I can vaguely remember… uh. Yeah I remember. How the new game I had been playing for an hour before starting that post was making me think I was running out of holes for the letters so the letters could fall down. And how I fucken went to the Transformers One movie even though I had zero interest and he won’t do fuck all anything for me. I told him he had a month to stop ignoring me except when he needs emotional/moral support and make an effort because if I wanted to be ignored I’d have … well. I’ve never stayed with someone who ignored me so I have no examples to give. An ouroboros of … shit. I took too long trying to spell that word.

I don’t know what I hate more. The fact that we can’t get his depression under control even with actually qualified professionals’ help or that now he has no libido and no fucks to give AND depression.

I’ve surprisingly been doing ok. A bit better than ok because I’ve been able to write. Like visualize in brain AND get it into print/screen/cloud. This current fic didn’t flow right by hand. One I started it in the default iPhone notes (can hackers get me easier now?!?!! Do they want Harry Potter m/m Tomarry fan fic? My lists of books by author? Triple crossed hockey sticks drafts?aaaaaasssssssssssssss) anyway. Fuck. I guess now I won’t link it…. Fuck it. I have an iPhone. They have everything about me from shoe size to triple crossed hockey sticks I prefer.

Except I can’t figure out how to do it. It’s been 9tened minutes and the damn snake is back again eating its own tail like a ouroboros of dumbass.

Archive of our own: Harry Potter and the Lion, the Witch, and the Audacity of This Bitch by AbstractDiagram

(me!) heed warnings and tags my darlins because I’m too loony toons raised up to list or even remember em here.

Speaking of warnings. Reactivate!

I want to talk about important stuff. Nope. Brain supplies “breasts need attention” to which I replied? “Mine or hers?” Brain: “malfunction. Error. ‘Just whomst the fuck is “hers”’ referring too-est?”

(Did I just get a quote in a quote in a quote? Yes I did Other Barry Other Abstract, yes I did.)

Me: JE Suis de FUCKING CHRIST ON STILETTO HELLS THAT WAS HARD THINK. First I thought the self-convo. Then I thought about thinking it so I could write it down where I had to think of the words were in the correct order. ANOTHER SHART-TROUSERED-TOGLODITE of an ouroboros!!!

Fuck. I wanted to link what I think is the second song on Vanilla Ice’s cassette. “Stop this Train I Wanna Get Off”. But the music search doesn’t know it. Or I’m misremembering some part of it and/or experiencing a personal Mandala Effect.

There’s just been a sound outside. Metallic clang. Like someone hitting a trash can lid. And my brain hole has convinced me there’s someone dressed as a clown outside the window that is less that a standard size man can reach away from me. I scared myself so bad I stopped breathing and only started again when I realized that standard size man is bad languages. Speaking of bad language can I say “sexist” and not get ban-hammered?

Bahahhahahahahah! Brain just sent a flood of what can only be referred to as grasshoppers in helium making my boobs jumpy and floaty. “Yo Bee-atch. Boobies. Need. Attention. But I’m talking with everyone in my blogosphere. But. If not boobies? Munchies? (🎵“Mon-chi-chi, Mon-chi-chi”🎵) I have got to get away from doing these thoughts in thoughts in thoughts like (🤯😡🤬😡🤬😠🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯 say it with me now:) “an ouroboros.” Which. I can almost spell now. I’m close enough and/or attempted enough that the spell check gods have pity on me and throw it up there something about I can spell “ouroboros.” Almost.

Little lovelies if you made it this far, thank you.

There’s a man I need to see about a canoe. Or something like that. IT MEANS IMMA WATCH triple crossed hockey sticks videos (“Did I just do a recall <double - recall IN A MUTHAFUCKEN RECALL> inside an Ouroboros INSIDE ANOTHER RECALL Other Barry Other Abstract? Yes I did.”)

I may have to revisit it later because that had BETTER MAKE FUCKEN SENSE tomorrow or I’m gonna be very upset.

Brain promised me tits but I kept getting more snakes. I’m ever so pissed.

Fuck your two videos a post. For thou hast provided me with a Make A Gif button and I now have a gif of that video so there. That’s not the clip I wanted. Wait. Please hold.

Ok. So I wanted the “Tappa…” lady saying “I’m ever-so pissed.” But I decided I’d settle on the lady as posted above to use as this example by using it as in an example. (Ouroboros!) but then I could only find this Windy-oh’s 95 Paint flip book version and I realized. Oh fuck. House of rodent representative would shut that shit down. If you can’t see aforementioned lady’s image flickering above then I decided in (fuckING SNakEseses!) I decided to it not risk jt.

I just hallucinated two things in rapid succession and now I’m half petrified and half fidgeting nervous - and not too/bottom half or left/right halves. Fucking right arm (for typing) and left knee jostling. Other limbs left arm/right knee I can’t get to move. But as I looked at my phone the left half of my left eye’s visual field showed me a view out a window that I haven’t even seen the house the window is for thirty years. Oddly nostalgic dusty barely orange tone that made me smell summer weekend at Betty’s house. I could smell the cigarettes and beer and dogs and hot outside humidity. For a good ten seconds I was able to type (many errors! But I’m vain even highfalutin so I edit as I go) and see that wall, window, leaves, sky. But then (now too… if I cut off suddenly it was clowns in the window <re-call!>) there was another {ouroboros} metallic sound and

Shit there was one when I searched that that now I’m 3/4 petrified (but not the (Re-call) quarters you’d think. I have my right hand, my right toes up to my cramping-at-the-moment!!!-calf and the bottom of my left foot and left toes.

Ok well. Fucked that up by breaking paralysis to take picture of my cramped up 1/4th.

I have to stop here. I have to. I could do this “not Captain America quote.”

[pepperpixel]

Some new art of a very very old oc of mine! From like, when I was an 8th grader in middle school to freshman in high school I think, I haven’t thought about this character or the world she’s from in like… years, but my brain suddenly remembered she existed! And so I drew some art of her!

Visually, she’s absolutely mostly the result of my child self sticking Toko Fukawa from Danganronpa and Peacock from Skullgirls in a blender and lettin it fuckin rip. Personality wise she’s a bit different tho… she’s into politics! As in,,, she’s in politics ghgh, she’s like the chief of the surveillance department for the country of (mostly) witches that the story takes place in. And one of the advisors to the head ruler witch,,, she sucks! Hardcore! she’s def a villain lol

[yellowsubiesdance]

hey, remember when we first started playing tears of the kingdom last year and were like “oh cool new dragon!” and then went through 100+ hours just to be traumatized and heartbroken and fucked up

[fridayiminlovemp3]

this is the realest shit i’ve ever heard in my life

[daffi-990]

I had plans to write or art today, but I am so bone deep burnt out and tired that ima just lay in bed and watch stuff.

[mainenorth]

what in the sam hill is beast wars s3. what the shit is happening

[ashitshowforalot]

i want you all to know i don’t trust google translate for shit bc she can’t even translate “simple” languages well

[sm0shfan]

kinda getting fed up with how smosh is handling/has handled the noah situations. Like for a while there when they introduced Trevor and Noah was missing from videos, I thought maybe they were doing something internally that we would see the results of later - maybe not Noah’s contract being terminated or whatever but some sort of acknowledgment and accountably.

But we haven’t seen anything like that, they’ve been deleting comments asking about Palestine/Noah’s behaviour, and they also haven’t said anything about Palestine as far as I’m aware.

And I just think it weird ya know ? Cos from what I saw what happened was noah liked a bunch of zionist propaganda-y posts, and made a tweet regarding october 7th, claiming he did so because he’s pro-civilian… but like if you want me to in good faith believe you are really pro civilian, and fell for propaganda or whatever the unliking of tweets was, then why did you not at least put in some effort to show you care about ALL the effected civilians, and not just the Israeli civilians ? Like if you’re going to claim neutrality, and say you’re just pro civilian then you can’t only speak up about one side’s civilians.

And as for smosh as a company… like ok maybe they can’t fire him based solely on political stances or watever, idk how that shit works and I’m not going to claim to. But man that doesn’t stop you as a company from talking about Palestine, and not even in a ‘hey we’re acknowledging one of our staff said some stuff and we’re letting you know that’s not our company’s stand point’ way. but just in a ‘hey there’s a shitty thing happening right now and we’re gonna do a live stream or something to donate to Palestinians affected by the conflict’. Like you don’t even have to acknowledge noah - I mean it would be better you did, and maybe talk about how internally the situation was handled/accountability, but still.

Idk I’m just finding it hard to watch smosh anymore, when it would have been so easy for someone who claims to be ‘pro civilian’ to actually fucking show that they are (instead of just hiding behind that term when you hit backlash) and for a company which has addressed political issues in the past to at least fucking acknowledged that what’s happening to Palestine is deplorable. You may disagree, but to me, that’s some basic easy shit, and if you’re not doing that then it isn’t unfair for me to assume that there’s a reason behind it.

Fuck man even if smosh did want to stay totally neutral and civilian/victim centred, they could donate to the Red Cross or something. Like the Red Cross is an organisation that is dedicated to being politically, religiously etc. neutral because they have to be in order to be able to help people.

Now don’t get it twisted I’m not saying I personally agree with staying ‘neutral’ on what Isreal is doing, what I’m saying is that if you are there are better ways to do it then to ignore or actively silence people asking valid questions about your employees and company morals, particularly if part of your branding/supposed culture within the company is leftist/left leaning, anti bigotry, anti violence etc.

[milflewis]

or can you make sewis toxic

the gc said what if seb n lewis were teammates at merc during baku 2017 earlier today and my brain is fucking melted and this came out. what if lewis went to ferrari after 2016. what if baku happened while they’re were both in the title fight for a wdc with ferrari and make it be the worst possible scenario. what then

“I’m not very nice today,” Sebastian laughs, titling back in his chair, smile bright and toothy, red shirt loose and too big along his shoulders. His fingers are ringless, tapping away on the arm of his chair, no bracelets either excerpt for a thin material one, faded blue, and a thick sensible watch. “Sorry.”

He doesn’t sound sorry but then again, Sebastian never does. Lewis only shrugs, letting his eyes soften, reaching over to bump Sebastian’s chest with his closed fist, light and easy. Mattia is peering over the file in his hand from across the room. “It’s alright, man. Losing can be difficult to swallow.”

Sebastian is far too good at his job to glare at Lewis. His smile simply widens, chin tilting down so he can glance up through his lashes. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

Lewis laughs, stretching his legs out in front of him, feet crossed at the ankles, until his back clicks quietly. “I would,” Lewis says and the helmet painted in Lewis’s colours on the shelf behind Mattia holds the exact same number of stars, one grey, two silver, one red, as Sebastian has titles. You’re not special, Lewis thinks. Not to me. I see you. I know you as a racer. As a human being. I. See. You.

I’m not Mark Webber, Lewis had said to him, last year after they had handed him the trophey and he’d become the first Ferrari world champion since Kimi. Sebastian had only laughed, furious and spitting and grinning, no?

Nah, Lewis had leaned in close, smelling his sweat and champagne and the race track that always seems to cling to Sebastian. I’ve beat you in your own team, haven’t I?

That hadn’t wiped the smile off of Sebastian’s face, nothing had that year, not once he started losing and never stopped, but something in his eyes had flickered, got you, and he had said, they aren’t my team, like it was awful and terrible and the worst thing he could think of. He didn’t say they’re yours because apart from the very few times Sebastian very distinctly is, he generally isn’t much of a liar.

Lewis had known him a long time at this point, as a friend and stranger and colleague and rival and teammate and ally and rival, and had just shrugged. Yeah, they are, man. They’re Ferrari, they’ll never be mine. And they’ve got to be someone’s — too needy not to be.

Then why are you here. It was the first time since Lewis signed the contract on the heels of 2016 that he saw Sebastian desperate and it was even partly real. Maybe I just want to win with every team, Lewis had watched Sebastian’s fingers pull at the sleeves of his race suit, the material damp and thick. That’s what the papers are saying, anyway, so it must be true.

Sebastian hadn’t said anything to that, jaw still set and tight, knuckles white where he had twisted them into the material. Lewis could’ve forgiven him for choosing Nico over him, or at least, not choosing Lewis. Could’ve and did. He was even able to forgive him for not saying anything when the shit stupid jokes came back after he signed and the Tifosi lost their shit, bouncing back and forth between ecstasy over getting Lewis Hamilton in Ferrari, stealing him from Mercedes as if Lewis hadn’t walked away on his own two feet, and the horror of having a black driver in their beloved team.

What he is not able to let go, and probably couldn’t even if he tried, is Sebastian not taking back what he said after Baku, never telling anyone that he was wrong, even after the FIA of all people stood in Lewis’s corner. It wouldn’t have hurt so much except —

Well, Lewis had thought, hadn’t he, and —

— it didn’t matter. Not in the end.

Sometimes, Lewis looks at Sebastian, beside him on the podium, across a team briefing, staring in front of him, behind, right there, and he hates him. He’s pretty sure that they could’ve, maybe, possibly, been something.

Sometimes, he even catches Sebastian staring back but for all that he swans around, all open palms and look here, look, look, I’ve got nothing to hide, I swear, he can be so very difficult to read. And it’s been a over a year since Lewis has trusted himself around the other man.

[sheenaisapunkstripprr]

My next job after stripping is gonna be the shit, my next job is gonna be the shit..

[the-travelling-witch]

i think i need to pick up tears of themis again

[declanisms]

dumbledore is a silly little old man who should be in jail

[boffinsandbeasties]

our remote working world gives me cool opportunities like watching a senior project manager struggling in real time to spell “perpetuity” despite me literally spelling it out for her twice on the call. technology is amazing. i’m suffering in perperuty.

[simonz-angel]

“fuckin’ look at me.”

the growl of words bounces in your mushy skull, watery eyes blinking till pretty crystal tears drip down the apples of your cheeks.

you’re lost, fluttering eyes fighting the fog, the way he reaches into your guts. it has you struggling and gasping.

yet, when simon’s fingers curl tight round your jaw, thick digits pressing dimples into the fat of your cheeks, you finally start to snap into reality.

“yeah, baby,” he laughs down into your face, teeth glistening in the soft bedside lamp. “i’m here, i’m here.”

and it’s not a sweet coo, it’s a harsh taunting, a mere joke to him to watch your eyes cross, and roll.

“t-too much, si, n-no” and it’s a broken, desperate cry, hands violently pawing at the backs of his thighs when he shoves himself meters into you.

you can feel every ridge, every vein, the way the tip of his pretty cock lays sweet frenchies against your cervix. and he stills, letting you really accommodate to the mere length, the width of him.

“let me see your pretty eyes, baby,” he huffs, breath heavy against your face in a way that does nothing but suffocate you. “you tired? you done?”

and your silence speaks for you, eyes bouncing back and forth from pupil to pupil. you can’t focus, the tips of your toes digging deep into his calves almost angrily.

it feels too good, in a way that has you squirming up like you’re under some spell.

“that’s what i thought,” he coughs up in a laugh, taking you by the lips aggressively. he lets his tongue open you up, and he explores your mouth carefully, hips pulling back as he readies himself. “now just be pretty for me and take it, yeah, hun?”

ion even know, this is so fucked 🤦‍♀️ send mama requests.

[omotelie]

WHERE’S MY FUKING CAPO

[macaroni-and-pebbles]

The Agony is starting again and anything I post after this point is no longer my fault

btw I’m ranting a lot in tags so like ignore that