#Imagine how much shit cheese sandwich gets on a daily basis

[stillinthatweirdfaze]

@baybladebattle

If social media existed in the mlp universe ponies would record strangers in public and post it online to make fun of their cutie marks

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #409

“when everything is wrong, we move along”

Are you a good kisser? I mean there's no way for me to actually know, but I guess history suggests I'm not bad. What question do you hate being asked the most? "What does your tattoo mean?" I'm so self-conscious of my "strange" interests that I can't stand that question and I get SO awkward. I know, I know, "Then why did you even get it?" Reason being it makes me happy and I don't want my fears to win anyway. What do you think the hardest part of surviving is? Just that very thing: surviving. Getting through rough patches with your sanity and good health intact. Do you own any clothes you wouldn’t wear in front of your mother? No. Do you honestly hate anyone? Sometimes I think I still hate the girl Jason dated after me. It's entirely unjustified, and even knowing they're not together anymore (at least, to my knowledge), thinking of her just... makes me angry and jealous and just generally uncomfortable. I also sincerely hate someone who violated my best friend. What song did you hear last? I'm listening to a slowed down mash-up of "Circus" by Britney Spears and "Poker Face" by Lady Gaga. It's actually p dope man. Have you ever walked in on your friends having sex? YIKES no. Where do you find you take most of your naps? I nap in my bed. Do you like sleeping just wearing your underwear and a top? No. I had to do that once and I was SO uncomfortable. Are you named after a parent or grandparent? No. Who was the last person to ask you out? Girt. Do you have nice legs? No. Has a boyfriend’s brother ever hit on you? No. Do you have a nice butt? That's an even bigger "no." I have like, no ass lmao. What do you have a massive attraction towards? Some short Korean dude that is the literal avatar of "chaotic good" lmao. Have you ever made a sex tape? NOOOOOOO and I never will. How do you feel about your weight right now? I am immensely unhappy and just seriously depressed by it. Have your parents ever told you that you’re a disappointment? Oh my god, no. I would die. I feel like they think that, but they've never said or acted so. Do graveyards thrill or terrify you? They give me a feeling of peace, and I find them humbling as a tiny, mortal being that's only here for a flicker in time. They remind me to try and make use of that spark. What song’s your current favorite? I've really been digging "SAVIOR" by SWARM as of recently. Do you miss any of your exes? Yes. Did you ever take pottery class in high school? They didn't offer a course for specifically pottery; it was just included in Art. I made one or two things. Have you ever felt yourself fainting? A few times. Who’s the last boy to make you cry? Guess. His memory, anyway. Did he know that he made you cry? I honestly wonder what he'd think if he knew all these years later, I still have times where I cry over him. When’s the last time you felt like a total asshole? I don't really know. Has anyone ever threatened you? Yes. Would you ever own a rat? I've owned quite a lot. I LOVE rats, and a part of me wants another pair, but I'm just not a great owner of pets that require so much cleaning. Would you or do you ever spank your kids? NO. I will ALWAYS say this regarding this subject: you do not teach your children through fear, nor do you instill in them, deliberately or not, that it is okay to hit people when they upset you. Have you ever considered being a cop? Nope. What’s the longest amount of time you’ve ever kept a goldfish alive? Not long. Fish husbandry is more complicated than people make you think, so your ordinary fishbowl situation isn't going to work long. Have your parents ever questioned your virginity? My mother has. Dad has never said anything regarding this subject, thank god. That would be uncomfortable as shit. Have you ever spent over $100.00 on an article of clothing? What was it? Fuck no. Honestly, have you ever mooned or flashed somebody? No. Have you stayed up past 3 in the morning this week? Actually, yes. I pulled the first all-nighter in eons a few days back. What was on the last sandwich you had? Ham, cheese, and mustard. Do you own a trenchcoat? Bitch I wish. Name the hardiest piece of technology you own? Christ, my iPod that I've had since middle school. Seriously, a 4th gen. iPod Nano is still running, and I use it HEAVILY. I have no fucking clue how it's still alive. Tell me the last thing you searched on the internet? A definition just to make sure I was using it correctly. Are you currently in a smoking environment? Nooooo. Ma would never allow someone to smoke in here, and I honestly wouldn't either. Have you ever owned a tire swing? No. Have you ever taken care of a drunk friend? No. How about a hungover friend? No. What’s your opinion on people who go hunting for sport? You gross me out. (: Do you know anyone who can fluently speak more than two languages? No. Have you ever gone in a sauna? NOOOOOOOOOOOO. I would hate that SO much. What animal have you always wanted as a pet but couldn’t have? ALWAYS wanted? Probably a ferret. I don't actually want one now, but the idea is still nice to imagine. They're such characters. Is there any TV show that ended that you wish hadn’t? Ugggghhhh, Deadman Wonderland. It ended on SUCH a cliffhanger. I mean the manga continued, so I could've chosen to read that, but I don't read manga. Have you ever seen your parents drunk and what was your reaction? I saw my dad drunk all the time when I was younger because he was an alcoholic for as long as he lived with us. I knew he was either going to be hilarious or volatile and withdrawn. 50/50 chance. I've seen my mom drunk a couple times, and it was always surprising to me because she drinks very rarely. She's a very social and silly drunk, and it's a rare occasion where she seems happy. What’s your biggest body worry when you wear a bikini? Hunny, you would NOT see me in a bikini. Even if no one else was around, I wouldn't put one on. If you had the chance to redo high school knowing what you know now, how would you redo it? I think I probably wouldn't have dated Jason. Do you or anyone you know have an account on deviantART? I have for many, many years, and have friends that do, too. Do you get your eyebrows waxed? Not anymore. If you draw, what's one thing you always have trouble with? HANDS. Who was the first person you made out with, and where was it? Jason, in his bed. When was the last time someone said you were attractive? WOW, who the fuck even knows. Have you ever had to pretend you were sober, even though you were wasted? How did it turn out? No. Have you ever smoked at school? No. Have you ever thrown up from working out? No. Do you think machines will take over the world? I think it's a possibility. Technology keeps advancing faster and faster that I wouldn't be all that surprised if we design them to such an advanced state that they have some sort of sentience. Is the way you typically behave congruent with your ethnic background? What the ACTUAL fuck is this question. Literally fuck off. Have you ever lived in a brand new house? No. Has the last person you kissed met your father? Yes. What’s your favourite breed of dog? I have a strong bias for beagles. As far as visual appeal of breeds goes, I REALLY couldn't tell ya. There are so many beautiful dogs. Do you think more about the past, present or future? I'm pretty obsessed with the past. Do you swear in front of your parents? Dad, freely. Around Mom, I try not to say "fuck" or "goddamn" because she really doesn't like those. I still say some words, though. It's just pure habit. What’s something that’s bothering you? I've just been having envy problems lately, and it's not an emotion I'm used to or enjoy whatsoever. Have you ever been asked out by someone you didn’t want to date? Yeah. Did any particular thing brighten up your day today? Not really. Do you know who your latest ex is dating? Nobody. What are your plans for the weekend? My sister Katie and her husband are coming to visit, and we're probably driving up to a lake that Ash and her little family stay at all the time so Katie can meet the kids. But with that storm coming through, it's questionable if we'll actually go, because it's an hour drive. When were you last in a car? Earlier today to go to the TMS office. I officially start my tapering sessions, so I won't be going every day now. Have you cried today at all? No. Have you ever gone out in public in your pajamas? That is noooot rare, honestly. Depends on where I'm going. Have you ever had bronchitis? Nope. Think back to the last person you kissed, how many times have you cried in front of them? Twice, I wanna say? What do you want right this second? To actually have motivation to draw a picture I have planned. If you were offered to smoke some weed right now would you accept? No. If I weren't so opposed to smoking because of the lung damage I honestly would, though. I'm curious how it would affect my anxiety. Can you control your dreams if you realize you are dreaming? No. When was the last time you cried really hard? I'm really not sure. Do you think you can last for an hour without talking? Very, very easily. I probably do that on a daily basis. Do you know anyone else with your name? Yes, but spelled differently.

[katrinajg]

So, I am actually working on a new chapter of ISSH, even if it doesn't seem like that since it's been a while since the last update. Currently at about 13k words, so it should be soon. *crosses fingers*

In the meantime, in-between time, how about an excerpt? 

Come on, ya know ya wanna... 

>>>He scarcely remembers the walk, and he certainly doesn’t have the wherewithal to bother with circling the block more than once before he’s pushing open the boarded-up door to Ticonderoga’s reception area. It didn’t feel like he was being followed, and Deacon’s paranoia is pretty healthy, so in this one moment of weakness, he’s going to trust that and not triple check it in duplicate.

When he makes it up to the main floor of the safehouse, the elevator doors open to a full house. Everyone has crowded around, looking anxious and relieved in the same breath. Deacon hesitates a moment before stepping out of the elevator; it’s a relief that he doesn’t have to talk about Quincy falling, clearly, they already know, but he hopes that he isn’t about to get delicate “Sorry, Dee”s. That’s not what he wants. 

High Rise steps forward first. “Hey, man. We heard. About Quincy.”

“Yeah,” Deacon replies, voice monotone as he stands there limply.

“Oh, Dee,” Parade sighs somewhere to the right of him and as if that’s what the group had been waiting for, a dozen hands reach for him at once and he’s pulled into a massive hug.

He doesn’t break down the way he did with Nick. Doesn’t quite trust these people with that sort of vulnerability, even if he does trust them with his life, but he does let them pull him toward the living area couches. He pulls off his gear when High Rise tells him to take it off and accepts the blanket from Jolene, and later the bowl of mac and cheese from Codsworth. He lets the conversation of Ticon wash over him while he’s sandwiched between HR and Parade on the couch. It’s about as safe as he feels outside of a vault or the agency.

Eventually, Uncle takes the empty bowl from his hands and Drummer Boy gives him a glass of purified water, and Parade offers some of her Jet if he wants to take the edge off, but Deacon shakes his head. After a time, conversation falls off when they’ve updated Deacon on the goings on, and cards are pulled out. He doesn’t play. Deacon falls asleep sometime around the fifth game.

When he wakes again, he’s alone on the couch and it’s dark. At first, he’s not quite sure about that and he pulls his off sunglasses to double check, but when the room doesn’t lighten significantly, Deacon has to accept that he’s slept the afternoon and evening away. Despite that, he still feels tired, and if he wasn’t also hungry, he’d probably just go back to sleep. With a quiet sight, Deacon swings himself off the couch; he hates that ‘dealing with shit’ has to be so exhausting.

“They considered waking you for supper, but you didn’t stir at their noise and High Rise decided to leave you sleep,” JH says lowly when Deacon has turned on the kitchen overhead light.

“Thanks, I guess,” he replies as he browses the fridge for leftovers. He spots some casserole of indeterminate make and takes the small dish out to warm up.

“Have you not been sleeping?”

Deacon shrugs. “Sorta. Nick’s been keeping me busy.”

“Ah,” JH says with a hint of laughter in his voice.

“And…I think trying to keep from exploding in anger on a semi-daily basis has been kinda counteracting the sleep I do get.” Deacon tosses the casserole mess into a pot warming on the burner and adds, “Maybe. Who can say for sure, really?”

“Because of Quincy?”

“I guess. That’s what Nick thinks, anyways.”

“And what do you think?”

“I don’t know.”

JH makes a noise of disbelief but doesn’t push, apparently content to let Deacon answer truthfully in his own time. When the casserole is warmed through, Deacon dumps it back in the dish it came from and heads back to the couch with a Nuka Cola. He arranges himself under the blanket again before eating the casserole in a few giant mouthfuls. It’s hardly pretty, but he doesn’t much care.

When he’s finished, Deacon set the dish down on the edge of the hubflower planter/coffee table in front of him and cracks the Nuka Cola open on the edge of the table. The metal edge of the small table face is worn almost round from hundreds of bottles opened the same way. After the first sip of the soda, Deacon says somewhat suddenly,

“I don’t want to be the Lone Wanderer.”

“Well, I’m afraid that vertibird has flown.”

Of all the answers Deacon imagined JH might’ve had, that wasn’t one. He frowns.

“So, what? Too bad, so sad? It’s my life. I choose.”

“If you want to choose to cripple yourself, then yes, you have a choice. If you want to be practical about it, grow up and stop accepting your father’s misguided view of the world.”

Deacon stares agape at the JH’s camera, feeling stung and surprised. It takes a moment for him to find his footing.

“Don’t talk about my father like that,” he snaps.

“And why not? Because it’s in poor taste to speak ill of the dead—though they hardly care what we think one way or another. Or perhaps because that pedestal you have him on is weak and all it needs is a good push to topple.”

“Stop.”

“No. If what we plan is to work, you must come to terms with the fact that you have two views of the world and only one is valid in the Wasteland,” JH says with some force, “What James taught you to believe about the world, what he believed was true, made a martyr of him. He was a fool—”

“How dare you—”

“How dare I say aloud the things you already think? Should we examine the choices he made that last day? Refusing Autumn the code for the purifier was idiotic, especially with the very clear threat of death. There was no need to die, he could have given the Colonel the code and returned with the Brotherhood at his back, he could have agreed to work with the Enclave and internally subverted us, he could have agreed to join Autumn against me, he could have chosen a dozen other possibilities that did not leave him dead in that chamber, but James didn’t believe in living to fight another day.”

“Dying for what you believe in isn’t wrong, or foolish, or idiotic. And if you had any shred of humanity, you’d know that,” Deacon seethes, knuckles white on the Nuka Cola bottle.

“Indeed? Remind me then, which one of us left you alone in this world?”

“Fuck you, Eden.”

JH has the audacity to laugh. “You already know I’m right, John. The Lone Wanderer is just a convenient name you’ve taken to represent all the things you learned about the world outside the vault, all the things that don’t agree with James’ skewed ideas of the world.”

“The Lone Wanderer is a monster. I don’t want to be anything like him.”

“No. The only monster is the shellacked memory of your father that keeps you at odds with yourself. The Wanderer lives in the imperfect world of the Wasteland, the world we all live in, and as such is an imperfect being. He does good and ill, just as we all do.” JH speaks of the Wanderer kindly, as if he’s a beloved friend, and in the next moment JH’s voice is harsh and critical, “You, John, are still living as though you are 19 and in the vault—an isolated place where every little mistake was compounded tenfold by the scarcity of freedom and the only ultimate good was to die in service of it.”

Deacon slams his Nuka Cola bottle down on the coffee table, heedless of the noise that it makes and stands, barely conscious of the real possibility that they’ll wake the entire safehouse if they keep arguing like this.

“You, of all people, have no right to be critical of the vault, my upbringing, or my father, when you, yourself, employed similar bullshit tactics in the Enclave.”

“Good to see we’re starting to make progress on this; shame that you have to angry to think clearly on the issue,” JH replies, exceedingly calm and Deacon wants to hit him. “And I am perfectly qualified to talk about this because, yes, in that former life, I did exactly the same thing. I won’t deny that.

“I have little doubt that James did not start out his tenure in the vault with the same views he had when he left it, but that’s what happens when you live in isolation. All you need is one rational sounding voice to repeat the same thing over and over and over again until one day you wake up believing the lie.

“In James’ case, the rational voice was his own because the lie he was selling was not to himself, John, but to you. And he said it so many times to you that he ended up believing it himself. Had Autumn pulled his coup 19 years before you were born, I have no doubt that James would have chosen to do one of the things I outlined before; however, living that long in the isolation of the vault skewed his view of the world. He mistakenly believed in the idea that the ultimate good is sacrifice.

“A belief that you cling to even now because the idea that he left you for any other reason is painful to contemplate.” JH pauses a moment and the ensuing silence is deafening. Deacon closes his eyes, furious, hurt, and betrayed all over again. “The simple fact of the matter is that James was as flawed as any of us. He made a mistake, he believed the lie and died because of it. There is no greater meaning to it than that, John. No nobility or heroism in it.”

Hot tears leak out of the corners of Deacon’s eyes as he whispers, “He didn’t — he didn’t even say goodbye.”

“I know,” JH replies sadly.

“Why didn’t he love me more than that stupid purifier?”

“I can’t answer that.”<<<