#It happens to 99.9% of my drawings. This makes me sad.

[rkrq]

Unfinished Spiderpunk drawing.

It had become too messy so I abandoned it. Maybe the messiness makes it a true punk drawing...

[iamthecomet]

I've decided that my next drawing will be Secondo and Mist and it's gonna be cute instead of slutty.

I don't know what it is about the two of them that makes me go, "Yep you two go together there you go be cute." But something about them just does.

Just a few more hours and I can work on Terzo some more.

I also realized that my next drama club meeting is on the 11th and I'm gonna lose it that day 😅 I'm so genuinely scared of something happening to Copia and that I'll never get to see him 😅 but what I keep saying is that if something does happen maybe just maybe Tobias will bring Mary back somehow... That's the only way I will be happy with Copia not being the front man (kidding) but yeah maybe that's why he's doing growl heavy songs lately like Pinnacle and Faith and also adding some where they aren't needed.

Again just rambling before work to make myself feel better 😂

🕸️

Ohh I love Secondo and Mist! That's going to be great! I want to write more Mist, but I keep...not doing it, oops. I'm like 99.9% sure that nothing is going to happen to Copia on the 11th or 12th. Those shows are being recorded for a live album (that's why no phones, they don't want crowd clips to be everyone holding their phones). They're touring in South America and then Australia right after their US dates end. So Copia will be alive and well at least until the end of the Australian tour. After that...who knows? I love Copia a lot and I will be sad when his time is up, but I'm actually kind of excited to see what happens next. And I have lots of thoughts about what might be coming but I also know I'm definitely wrong. Tobias has a way of doing the last thing we all expect. We're all just along for the ride.

[oswednesday]

mom is always wretched to me so this isnt a news report

firstly im in the living room working on stuff cause theres a table in there big enough for me to work without feeling cramped, i think a reasonable person would just let me have this table in my room tbh but its nothing ive brought up ever, my brother has a MASSIVE desk he never uses as a desk i dont think he knows thats what it is and uses it as like a tv stuff and an everything drawers and my mom also has a massive table she never uses as a work space, its just something she shoves everything in with the top like a display mantel, then shes like Oh I Would Make Art If Only I Had Your Bedroom/The Shed Completely To Myself and im like your bedroom is literally bigger than my room and the shed likely combined? she greets me with a confused offended sounding hello? to my good morning! (she later greets my brother with cheering like literal cheering this is how it is 99.9% of mornings)

then she proceeded to walk across the house in the kitchen and is having this conversation with me and im like i cant do this with you it strains my voice and im working right now (it was also like trap engage conversation about the carrot box cake mix thing she made for the potluck that she didnt go to which made me really sad for her and i think she noticed) she was also yelling about how i was making a mess of the living room when i was like at a single table with some papers and drawing supplies, the topic was irrelevent as it always is, when she came into the other room she picked some of my papers up off the table and pointed on a mark and was yelling at me about that, the mark is literally a year old and its like she could seal the table, sand it and all that we could have a table cloth if she is so concerned but she doesnt do any of those things, its also something she trash picked, and i was like how many times do you need me to apologize for that and she was like oh its not new and i was like yeah im constantly pouring nail polish remover on the table (its a stain smaller than a quarter that lifted up some stain)

and she like stomped away and was quiet for a bit, thats when my brother woke up, she came back then and said in a softer voice that she was going to do the laundry today (she refuses to get a washing machine or dryer for the house even though we're in a suburban house that she owns hgfhfg) and then the whole my brother wakes up and she screams and makes all kinds of wild joy sounds, i say good morning to him and he basically grunts a response, he brings out his laundry for her to do and during this shes agreed to take a covid test cause apart of her cross house thing was she had a fever, she doesnt have covid or so she says anyway, at one point she leaned over me and asked what i was doing and i was like oh making some stuff for a thing, it was nice that she asked but she burnt away just any nice ness from like all of that plus a life time, also this all has happened in like a span of an hour maybe less its just a whirl wind while she tries out every possible avenue of reaction i guess?

then i went to sleep and woke up, after being like hi hello about that i asked her how she was feeling and she said okay and i was like did you get medicine? and she went off on this like def pre-planned mentally rehearsed thing that she could Not wait to unleash on me

she was like no, its so sad the saddest thing in the whole world that when im sick you had me a list of medicine to get for you and i was like ??? the list was for you, you were literally going to the store, i even put little notes about the medicine for you? (like this one is a flavor you like this one feels this way on the throat etc like why would i need to do that for me fghdhfgdh) and she was like Enough Stop Talking To Me You've Done Enough Damage and i was like what are you talking about hggfdgfd and went on to make myself food, she came back like maybe five mins later and was all smiles again but i was wearing a mask so her face dropped like gdfgfd???

oh and then i got the mail which she then threw away and i had to pull out of the trash cause some of it was my brothers like bank statements and stuff???

[venicebixch]

In-Between Epilogue part 3 (final part)

final part! 🚨 AND DON’T YOU DARE SKIP TO THE END ‼️‼️ you better read the whole thing!! anyway, enjoy.

Vinnie’s POV

“So how does this work?” Kyla asks the doctor.

“Well, we just take a tiny prick of your finger to draw a little blood - it’s almost painless, and there’s absolutely no risk to the baby. Then we’ll take a cheek swab from Vinnie and compare the DNA samples,” he says.

I nod and look at Kyla. She’s pissed as hell that I’m making her do this but I don’t care. I’m not going through hell for nothing.

“How is a blood draw from her gonna tell us about the baby?” I ask.

“Simply put, the baby’s DNA from the placenta circulates all through mom’s body. So we take her blood sample and extract the fetal DNA and process it and compare it to yours,” he says.

“How accurate is it?” Kyla asks.

“Extremely. The testing has a 99.9% accuracy rate, and we take incredible care in performing the procedure to ensure it’s done properly,” he looks back and forth between us.

“How long for results?” I ask.

“2 to 5 days,” he says.

“Let’s do it now, then,” I lean back and cross my arms. Kyla sighs and drops her head into her hands. I roll my eyes and look back at the doctor. “It’s been 3 weeks of hell already. I’m ready to get it over with and know for sure what the hell is gonna happen with the rest of my life.”

I see Kyla look at me from the corner of my eye as she starts crying but I ignore her, not looking away from the doctor. I can’t deal with her manipulation anymore. If she’s so damn certain it’s mine, she wouldn’t have any problem doing this.

—

I walk into the restaurant and see y/n sitting alone in the corner. Her back is toward me and her hair is clipped back. She’s wearing the blue sweater that I love on her. She looks nice.

I can’t help but let a small smile pull up the corner of my lips, excited to see her today.

“Hey,” I say softly as I sit down in front of her. Her eyes flicker up to mine and she smiles.

“Hey, Vin,” she says quietly. She looks down then looks back up at me. “Any news yet?”

“Not yet. The doctor said 5 days max. So, it should be today or tomorrow,” I sigh. “It’s been hell waiting.”

“I know. I’ve been anxious for you,” she reaches her hand across the table. I look down at it and smile. I never cease to be amazed at how kind she is to me even though I know she’s been hurting too. I can’t believe it’s not been clear as day to me this whole entire time I’ve known her that she’s the one I belong with.

I grab her hand and squeeze it, taking special notice of how soft and warm her palm is. I missed touching her. Just being able to feel her skin against mine. Her body against me.

These last few weeks have made me realize with full clarity that I wasn’t even happy with Kyla before she cheated but I was attached to her and couldn’t bring myself to leave. I suppressed my feelings for y/n for nearly a year and when I was finally so close to having her, it was ripped from me.

Our moment of sweetness gets clouded by my sadness. I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t be with her. I fear for my future and my mental health. I genuinely don’t think I’ll ever feel happy or satisfied with my life if I have to live the rest of it like this.

“I don’t know what to do with myself these past few days. I’ve barely slept and when I do, it’s all weird and stressful dreams,” I keep my eyes on her hand, avoiding eye contact with her.

“I understand. I’ve been in the same boat, but I’m sure you’re far more stressed about it… it’ll be life changing if the baby is yours,” she squeezes my hand a little tighter. “But you’ll be okay either way.”

I won’t be but I don’t want to put the burden of just how intense my intense emotions about the situation are on her so I give her a fake smile and nod. “I know,” I lie.

“I hope it works out,” she says softly.

“Me too, baby,” I say. I immediately scold myself for calling her that but it became habit over the last few months. My eyes flicker to hers and I see her cheeks flush to a light pink color. “And I want to thank you for sticking by my side this long… I don’t know what the hell I’d do without you,” I say quickly to divert from what I called her.

She nods. “Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she smiles.

—

The next morning I wake up, having only gotten maybe 3 hours of sleep. My hand immediately reaches for my phone hoping for a missed call from the doctor’s but there’s nothing.

“Fucking hell, this is ridiculous,” I say getting up and throwing a shirt on. I call Kyla to see if she’s heard anything.

“Hello?” Kyla answers.

“Any news?” I ask.

“Nope. I don’t know why you’re so anxious on getting the results when I’m telling you it’s yours. I have not slept with anyone but you in months.”

I chuckle and shake my head. “Okay,” I say sarcastically.

“It’s your fucking kid, Vinnie. Sorry it’s so bad you have to be stuck with me. We could have worked it out just fine, but you had to go and catch feelings for the little doe eyed hoe you’ve been fucking for weeks to get back at me for my mistakes,” she says coldly.

“You’re fucking delusional, Kyla. Literally fucking delusional. At this point I don’t know if you’re even aware of your manipulative ass tendencies or if you’re actually so fucking deluded that you truly believe what you’re saying,” I spit back at her.

“You think I never noticed how you’ve looked at the bitch since you met her? Why the hell do you think I even cheated, I was devastated having to see you swoon over her every fucking day. She knew it, I knew it, and YOU knew it.”

A twinge of guilt runs through me but I shake my head to clear her words from my mind before they start spiraling into overthinking. “I never ONCE said or did anything inappropriate in regards to her. You’ve treated me like shit our entire relationship. I was faithful and loyal to you until the day we ended things.”

“I’m fucking done with this conversation,” she says.

“I’m calling the doctor to see what’s taking so fucking long.”

“No!” She says quickly. I make a confused face and cock my head to the side. “They’ll call when they have the results, don’t bother them. They’re busy,” she adds.

I start laughing as I realize something. “Have you already gotten the results?” I ask.

“What? No! I haven’t, or I promise you would have been the first one I call, obviously.”

I immediately hang the phone up and call the office, pacing back and forth. I’m gonna lose my absolute shit if she’s gotten the results already and hasn’t told me.

“Dr. Brantly’s office, how can I help you?” A woman answers.

“I’m calling about paternity results. My name is Vincent Hacker, we came in about 5 days ago,” I say.

“What’s your date of birth?”

“July 14th, 2002.”

“Give me one second here,” she says.

My heart starts pounding in my chest and I feel so anxious I want to vomit. I hear the beep of another incoming call. It’s Kyla. I shake my head and ignore it, sitting down to take a few deep breaths to calm myself.

After what feels like forever, the lady finally speaks again. “Um… it looks like we reported the results 3 days ago to Kyla Madden, the mother. Has she not informed you yet?”

My heart drops and I start laughing as a way to control my anger. “Nope.”

“The results came back as exclusionary, which means you’re not the father.”

My jaw drops and it feels like a million pounds have been lifted from my shoulders. Another incoming call comes in. Kyla again.

“Thank you so much,” I say and switch the call over to answer Kyla.

“You are literally such a fucking scum bag bitch,” I tell her as soon as the call connects.

“Vinnie, just talk to me!” She pleads.

“No fuck you. We’re done. DONE. I’m gathering the rest of your shit right now, it’ll be on the porch.”

“Vinnie, please,” she begs, crying.

“You’re not to step foot in this house again and I’m gonna let everyone know. You come in, I’m calling the cops and I will press charges against your sorry ass for trespassing. Don’t ever contact me again, and I better not see shit about me OR y/n online from you or I’m gonna tell the fucking world about every single thing you’ve done,” I all but yell at her. “And you know how possessive my fan base is over me - your career will be over. Cancelled. Done. Reputation ruined forever. Enjoy your fucking life, bitch. I know I’m gonna enjoy mine.”

I hang up the phone and immediately call y/n as I start gathering Kyla’s things.

“Hello?” She answers. Her voice sounds groggy.

“Did I wake you?” I say excitedly.

“Yeah but it’s okay. What’s going on, is everything okay?”

“Better than okay. It’s not my baby,” I say, smiling.

She gasps. “Really?!”

“Yeah. And get this, she found out the results 3 fucking days ago and didn’t tell me,” I start laughing at the absurdity of it.

“She’s literally a crazy bitch and I swear I’d fight her if she wasn’t pregnant,” she says in a serious voice.

“I’d let you, too.”

She starts giggling. “So… that’s it then? You’re done with her?”

“For good. Do you wanna spend the night together?” I ask, and pause as I get nervous for her answer. Was it too quick to ask her that? She probably needs time to process everything.

“Yeah, I’d love to,” she says. I can hear her smile through her voice and I breathe out a sigh of relief.

“I’m so excited,” I say.

“I’m excited too,” she laughs, then goes quiet for a moment. “I’m so happy, Vinnie.”

“I’m happy too, baby,” I smile. “I can’t wait to see you later.”

[ducktracy]

158. porky’s romance (1937)

release date: april 3rd, 1937

series: looney tunes

director: frank tashlin

starring: joe dougherty (porky), berneice hansell (petunia, babies), mel blanc (excited petunia), billy bletcher (time munches on narrator)

i’ve been looking forward to reviewing this since the day i first typed my review for bosko, the talk-ink kid. so you’ll have to excuse me for rambling on more than normal, i’m really passionate about this cartoon. there’s so much to say!

first off, this cartoon means a lot to me. it’s the first one i checked out on my own accord. i caught wind of who carl stalling was and wanted to listen to a piece of his music to familiarize myself. i saw his depression era compilation of music, and included was the opening number for this cartoon, which absolutely blew me away. i looked up the cartoon and watched it and instantly fell in love. porky was fat! porky has a different voice actor! porky was INTERESTING! porky was killing himself! i had never seen anything like it, so it holds a special place in my heart. i had a vague idea of some directors, like bob clampett and chuck jones, but had no idea who the hell this “frank tash” guy was. but after watching it, i knew i’d love him. and i do!

secondly, this is joe dougherty’s final appearance. while mel is undoubtedly the better porky, i’ve really come to appreciate joe. he gets a hard time because he had a real stutter, and one of the repeated criticisms i see is that it sounds too overdone. true as that may be, he couldn’t help it, and i applaud him for working as long as he did. i mean, a little over 2 years, that’s a decent amount of time! and he does have talent. we’ve seen and heard much worse. so i’m a little sad to see him go, but excited at the same time knowing wonderful things are ahead. i love this particular era in looney tunes history, the porky’s romance to, say, porky’s badtime story era. there’s this sense of newness and freshness—new voices, new characters, new directors. you feel the change happening before your very eyes. it’s all so exciting!

i’ve rambled enough, and i’m certainly going to ramble much more, so buckle up! after petunia pig rejects porky’s marriage proposal, porky seeks a noose for comfort. when the suicide attempt goes wrong, he’s then launched into a dream sequence about their potential marriage life... and realizes marriage isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

this cartoon has a unique opening to it. before the title card itself, we are presented with “leon schlesinger’s new looney tunes star: petunia pig!” curtains draw to reveal petunia positioned in front of a microphone. yes, this is petunia’s first appearance! she has quite an interesting history. she appears only in 3 frank tashlin cartoons, where she was depicted as a sultry, sexy foil for the bumbling, not very sexy porky. bob clampett would adopt her in 1939 and make her to be much cuter, giving her hair and a much more naïve demeanor. she hardly has any cartoons at all, yet somehow managed to live on through the dell looney tunes comics and in future looney iterations.

petunia greets her audience warmly, opening with “my public! i hope you pictured my liking--i mean, i hope you lictured my picking... i mean... i--” overcome by nerves, petunia struggles to read the script in front of her and greet the audience. this little bit was inspired by the short lived 1936-1937 radio program community sings. the offscreen announcer attempts to calm her down. “shhh, petunia. don’t get excited, don’t get excited...” petunia’s furious outburst (vocals by mel blanc, of course) of “EXCITED!? WHO’S EXCITED?? I’M NOT EXCITED!!!” comes from comedian professor tommy mack, who would do the same slow routine and then the explosion with the “WHO’S EXCITED?” line. tashlin’s the woods are full of cuckoos is an entire tribute to community sing.

the curtains close on petunia, and then we’re actually greeted with the title card. an absolutely stellar rendition of “i wanna woo” underscores the title and the opening scene. a happy porky whistles along to the music as we have a montage of him buying necessities for petunia. a diamond ring, some roses, some chocolates. what a good guy! i love the visuals in this cartoon. everything is so sleek and modern--it’s evident tashlin was enamored with the art deco style. and that song again is just beautiful--it’s why i investigated this cartoon in the first place!

porky finishes his routine as he approaches petunia’s house, dancing up and down the stairs before ringing the doorbell. i love that face of his as he poses by the doorbell, throwing his bouquet in the air and catching them in his hand. he’s awfully full of himself.

inside, petunia approaches the door, her brat of a dog fluffnums by her side. for some reason, fluffnums was attempted to be pushed as a reoccurring character, with model sheets and drawings of him surfacing around the studio, i guess for publicity, but he only appeared in this cartoon. same goes for the iceman in i only have eyes for you (his name is sammy sparrow?) and the parrot in i wanna be a sailor. petunia opens the top portion of her door to see her visitor, and we see cocky old porky posing with his hat hilariously tipped on his face. petunia, for whatever, isn’t very pleased, turning her nose and marching away, stomping her foot. “porky pig! pooh-pooh!” in the same rhythm, the dog barks the same amount of syllables, stomping its little paw. warm welcome.

a lovely, downtrodden chorus scores porky as he trudges away tearfully, wilting, pausing only to kiss petunia’s nameplate on her house. suddenly, fluffnums looks out the window and barks for petunia. “what is it, fluffnums?” then, petunia spots the box of chocolates porky carries along behind his back. we then get this BEHEMOTH of a scene that displays how tasteful of a director frank tashlin is: 6.5 seconds, 157 frames, 10 cuts. petunia rushes out of her house at the speed of light and urges porky back inside her home. the scene has CLARITY--you can understand what’s happening, unlike the rapid cutting in porky in the north woods. this scene is genius. petunia throws a dazed porky on her couch while she gorges herself on the chocolates, cooing about how glad she is to see him.

mark kausler identifies the animator as volney white (though the thick eyebrows make me think of bob bentley. mark’s a wonderful source of information i gladly accept everything he says, because he’s right 99.9% of the time) for the scene where porky tries to reach for a chocolate himself. fluffnums, ever the threatening guard dog, growls. we have a great back and forth scene as porky sheepishly pets the dog on the head, reaching for a chocolate and still getting growled at. the charade continues until porky finally snatches one, sticking his tongue out in childish defiance at the dog. as porky lifts up his trophy, winking towards the audience at his act of outsmarting, the dog jumps up and eats the chocolate himself, breaking a hole in porky’s boater hat in the process. (no dogs were harmed in the making of this cartoon!)

seeing as this is joe dougherty’s last cartoon, he doesn’t speak very much at all. in this scene, the animators had porky facing AWAY from the audience so they wouldn’t have to animate his lip movements. it was pretty clear that everyone was tired of working for dougherty. instead, porky’s body jitters as he speaks. they used a technique called staggered exposure, which was mixing up a sequence of drawings to get that jittery effect (so instead of going in a sequence of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, and so forth, it would be more like 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, and so on.) “why petunia, i want you... you.. you to.. be in love.. that is.. um.. will you.. uh... er, uh.. may i.. that is... won’t you... will you... aw, shucks. will you marry me?”

just as porky finally manages to spit out his confession, disaster strikes. petunia’s bastard of a dog pulls the carpet out from under porky, sending him flipping and falling in the air. because of this, petunia ridicules and laughs at him. porky is now absolutely devastated, leaving petunia’s house for good. i love the detail of his ears and bow tie wilting. carl stalling’s music is on point in this cartoon: an underscore of “the little things you used to do” backs up the scene here. that song was sung at the end of the coo-coo nut grove, where the entire nightclub was flooded in tears.

the next scene is strikingly somber and surprised me greatly the first time i watched it. we iris in on porky writing a suicide note, a noose tied around his neck, tied to a tree branch. the note simply reads “dear petunia, i love you. goodbye forever -- porky” the camera panning out is a little janky and rough, but i digress. porky wipes away his tears, pulling a photo of petunia from his pocket and giving it a kiss. with that, porky jumps.

because of his weight, the suicide attempt fails as the tree branch breaks, porky toppling to the ground and hitting his head. thus launches a dream sequence as his surroundings spin around (by unscrewing the lens of the camera, screwing it (counter)clockwise in front of the aperture), melting away to the exterior of a church. wedding bells chime victoriously. inside, petunia and porky give their vows. porky struggles, stuttering “i d-d-d.... i-d..d-” the officiator whistles (a dougherty era running gag), and porky spits out his final “do.”

more volney white animation as the lovebirds exit the church, waving to the crowd that surrounds them. and, of course, fluffnums is there too, begrudgingly carrying petunia’s veil in its mouth. we cut to porky and petunia happily riding in their car, a victorious JUST MARRIED banner waving in the wind, with shoes attached to strings on the bumper marching along in time to “in my merry oldsmobile”. porky’s license plate reads BOOB -- a good indicator of how frank tashlin felt about porky.

a lovely overhead layout of the honeymoon hotel porky and petunia stay at (with, of course, an underscore of “honeymoon hotel”, which was also the title of a 1934 earl duvall merrie melody). the elevator rises to the top floor in syncopation with the music. a nice silhouette shot of porky and petunia, and rather suggestive at that. they kiss, and the last we see before a fade out is porky turning off the light in the apartment.

billy bletcher voices the narrator as a triumphant fanfare blares. “TIME... MUNCHES ON!” rather disconcerting eating noises, and then we open to a very rotund petunia and fluffnums gorging themselves on chocolate. not the most flattering depiction of a woman, but the ironic “laughing” of the clarinets and horns playing “oh, you beautiful doll!” is a wonderful touch. i love when the scores themselves serve as jokes. 

pan across the apartment, the score melting into another rendition of “i wanna woo” as we see poor porky hard at work. i adore the layout of this entire scene. porky busies himself with all the odd jobs petunia has (presumably) thrown onto him, washing the clothes, ironing a dress, cooking the food, washing the dishes. he unsuccessfully attempts to balance the chaos, trying not to kill himself in the process. pay attention to how the furniture is arranged. the stove, the sink, even the ironing board, they’re all slightly diagonal and at an angle. practical? absolutely not, no one has their furniture arranged like that, just jutting out. but in animation terms, it’s more than practical. it’s so that you can see the details clearly, so that you can see every little thing happening. the clarity of the scene would be muddied if the furniture was arranged the way it should be--you may miss details like the pan burning on the stove or the looming pile of dishes. this is some super smart staging, and the architecture is just beautiful within itself. porky struggles to keep up with the demands, but fails, burning food, clothes, etc. you’ll notice that when he fails to balance a pile of dishes, the china crashing into him as he flops down on the floor, whatever he’s cooking in the pot boils over as well. everything just explodes at once. 

meet porky pig jr, porky pig jr, porky pig jr, porky pig jr, porky pig jr, porky pig jr, porky pig jr, porky pig jr, and so on. all of the babies start screaming at the noise (bob bentley animation), and petunia puts in her two cents by yelling “porky pig! shut those kids up!” porky rocks one of the cradles back and forth, reassuring her “i’m doing the best i can, petunia dear.” petunia marches forth, wielding a rolling pin as she retorts “don’t dear me, you WORM!” with that, she beats porky relentlessly over the head with the rolling pin, all of the kids shouting “GIVE IT TO HIM, MAMA! GIVE IT TO HIM!” which is another radio show catchphrase of some sort.

finally, we’re met with reality. porky sits in a daze on the ground, petunia stroking his cheek with fluffnums at porky’s other side. petunia puts on her best sympathy act, cooing “oh porky, i’m so so-ree! you’re my honey man. i’ll marry you, darling, honey bunny boo...” while petunia showers porky in all sorts of pet names, he looks up at his suicide note, remembering his dream where petunia was an abusive slob. they had trouble with the camera movements again--when they came out of the dissolve, the camera was in the wrong position slightly, creating a double image.

this is one of my favorite endings to any looney tunes short. a terrified porky jumps up at zips away into the horizon (with that great electric guitar zoom/twang sound effect i love so much), petunia shrugging and fluffnums making a ! mark appear over his head. suddenly, porky retreats, snagging his chocolates from petunia and running for the hills. a beat... and he returns once more, only to give fluffnums a well deserved swift kick in the ass. the music score in this scene is just lovely, nice and jazzy. the timing is succinct, and i love the guitar zoom sound effect. iris out.

as you can see, i love this short, a lot. while i love the blow out, i think this is my first true favorite that we’ve seen so far. it’s so dark, and i don’t even like dark stuff! it just feels so different. carl stalling is in tip top shape with his music scores. every single piece is lovely, especially that beginning. the animation is fun, the expressions are great. i wish i could articulate my thoughts better, because i really just love this cartoon a lot. i’m super happy it was one of the first i had seen, because i probably wouldn’t be typing these reviews had i not. frank tashlin’s cinematography is STRONG in this one. the camera cuts, the angles... this is a beautiful cartoon, inside and out. i feel bad that it’s joe dougherty’s last appearance, but understand at the same time. great things are ahead, revolutionary things! i’ve warmed up to joe quite a lot. i’ve found nothing in terms of what he did after his tenure as porky--wikipedia (not reliable, i know) states that he attended medical school before becoming a voice actor, so good on him! anyway, i absolutely love this cartoon and have seen it multiple, multiple, multiple, MULTIPLE times. it’s strikingly different in tone than what we’ve seen and what we WILL be seeing. it’s not just your everyday frank tashlin porky cartoon. this one stands out, and i implore you to watch it.

link!

[lokisgame]

Some Things Never Change

A/N for @kiwiphroot who suggested a Matrix/X-Files crossover 

It was his first time in Zion, and the first thing that struck him, were the people, there were so many of them. All races, all ages, some with sockets in their heads and arms, some without. He followed Trinity through levels filled with life, with all its' scents and debris and usual everyday stuff. They went through living quarters, with lines of laundry hanging everywhere. They passed something like a market, where street vendors, for lack of a better word, sold food and hand made goods. Countless units were turned into workshops, manufacturing everything, from crafted spoons and pots to shoemakers and tailors, making and mending shoes and clothes. Everywhere, clients haggled for better deals, exchanging whatever they had for whatever they needed. "Man, some things never change." He murmured to himself, but she caught it. "Keep up." Trinity smiled and took his hand, pulling him through the crowd.

Three levels up, the elevator doors opened to a wide walkway, and he followed Trinity dutifully, though looking around curiously. He noticed mothers with kids waiting in chairs along the wall, the elderly and the injured, while men and women in almost white robes, walked among them, sorting them depending on the urgency and severity of their illnesses. It looked just like an emergency room, only more ragged. "We fixed you as well as we could when we found you, but every new freed citizen, must undergo full physical and psychological checkup." She looked over her shoulder and gave him a smile, or rather the corners of her eyes crinkled lightly, which for Trinity, amounted to the same thing. "Don't worry, it won't take long." "You have a med school down here too?" Trinity huffed out a small laugh and paused in front of unremarkable doors, knocking lightly. A female voice called for them to come in. "I'm telling you, Scully, it was real!" "Mulder, internet isn't good for you."

"Doctor?" "Hello Trinity." A small, red-haired woman got up from behind a desk, and the man she was talking to turned around, swivelling in his chair. "Zion's finest! Have't seen you around here in ages!" He cheered. "Which is a good thing." The woman finished for him. Neo looked at the bantering couple, trying to get his jaw off the floor. "We have a new crew member." Trinity said then turned to him, "Neo, this is Doctor Scully and Doctor Mulder." "I," he began, trying not to stare at the faces he watched on tv for what felt like forever. "Here it comes," the man, who looked like Mulder said, folding his arms over his chest, "c'mon, say it." "You were characters! On tv!" "We have a fan." Mulder chuckled. "We get that a lot." The one who looked just like Scully, if her hair was allowed to grow and her freckles to show, took Neo by the elbow, leading him to a nearby cot. "Sit down, let me look at you." "And breath, you're not crazy." Mulder said, turning a monitor to himself and began typing. It seemed to be wirelessly connected to a scanner that Scully ran over Neo's arms. Tip of the device touched each socket, and a new readout popped up on the screen. "Connections look okay." He said and Scully nodded. "Turn around and take off your shirt." Scully said, picking up a different instrument, one that looked more like a soldering iron. "This will feel a little tingly." "How does that work?" Neo asked, feeling a tickle skipping up his spine. "You guys were inside, weren't you?" "We were. Mainline?" Scully asked and Mulder whistled. "Wow, 99.9%." "Check again." "I did." Scully glanced over her shoulder to the screen, which Mulder turned for her to see, then they both looked at Trinity. She gave them a little nod. "What?" Neo asked. "Neuron network responsible for the input-output loop is very dense." "Think of it as having more bandwidth than anyone else." "What does that mean in here?" "It means, theoretically," Scully explained, "when logged in, you can process more data and do it faster, than others, giving you quicker reflexes and making your perception sharper. Possibly, even let you reprogram the matrix in close enough range." "It's a little fuzzy, how it happens, but it seems the machines wrote the code so that we can interact with it on a subconscious, instinctive level." Mulder said, typing, "You take a mug in your hand, start a subroutine with a list of actions, reach out, hand doesn't go through the mug, close hand, it's hot, it burns you, you drop the mug, it falls, run coin toss, it brakes or not." As Mulder spoke, Scully kept prodding at his back, lifting his arms, checking reach and movability of joints. Her hands were steady and warm, and soon she was done. "You can get dressed now." She patted Neo's shoulder and turned to her partner. "Look out, Mulder, someone might think you love the machines." "I'd call it knowing your enemy." Mulder chuckled and rolled his chair closer, taking her place. "So what are you saying, my brain is some kind of a super computer?" Neo asked, pulling the sweater over his head. "In sheep's clothing." Mulder replied, gently taking his face in his hands, tiling it back. "Open up." Neo opened his mouth, closed, followed the finger, squinted at the light, and listened. "With your potential capabilities, and awareness of the program, you could try and shape it, in real time, disrupting the pre-programmed cause-effect loops. Slow down or dodge bullets, walk through walls, even fly." "You're shitting me." "Why would I." "If I can do it, why no one else has tried it." "Oh, they tried it." Scully said, a little sad. "And failed, squeeze my fingers," Mulder said, holding his hands out, Neo squeezed. "Responses normal. She's the medical examiner too." Neo noticed the sockets, just like his own, on both of them. "So you guys were inside too." "Yeah." Mulder bumped the side of his hand just below his knee and Neo's leg kicked, "reflexes normal." "And you were actors? It was all just a tv show." "I wish," Mulder chuckled without humour, "I'd give myself a happy ending." "We were working for the FBI." Scully said. "Doctor and a psychologist, turned feds, investing the paranormal," Mulder recited in a tone of a b-movie trailer voice-over, "I'd show you my badge, but I left it in the pod." Neo laughed. "One day we found an artefact, and it had to be a virus of some kind, because it started to mess with the code around me, making me hear peoples' thoughts, that kind of thing. It put me in a hospital, almost catatonic from sensory overload. Then Trin found Scully." "And we pulled each other out." Scully finished for him, leaning against the desk. On a wall behind her, Neo noticed a drawing, just as the one he remembered, a UFO hovering above the tree line, bold letters at the bottom declaring 'I want to believe' Old habits die hard, he thought. "And you guys never knew it was a TV show." "It was to you, for us it was life." Scully said, as Mulder pushed away, back at her side. "Maybe the machines lacked the imagination to create something as abstract as entertainment, to fill humans' need for escape, and took our story to fed it to the masses. One thing they couldn't fake though." "They could never tear us apart." He said, kissing her knuckles. There was a small knock on the door, Mulder asked who was it and a small head peeked inside. "Daddy?" "C'mere Will, we're done." A little boy came in and quickly scrambled into his lap. No sockets, a real child, born outside. "Can we go play now?" The boy asked. "In a second, honey." Scully said, fondly ruffling his light brown mane. "So, everything looks okay, though your muscle mass could use some work. If you find time, I'd recommend physical training, a real one." "It'll keep you sane, and in touch with your physical body." Mulder added. "We lost quite a few, who couldn't handle the transition, so take this one seriously." "Thanks." Neo chuckled, looking from Mulder to Scully. "What?" "I find it hard not to call you guys Agents." "I don't think anyone in here would appreciate that title, and it's not like we were really a part of the system, since we broke free." Scully petted Mulder's head as well, and her smile was an order of magnitude warmer than he remembered. Trinity nodded in thanks and reached for the door, Neo got up to follow. Mulder got up with him, keeping his son in his arms. "Remember Neo," he said softly, "in there, you're as strong as your beliefs. We believe in you." They left the little family behind, and headed back to their living quarters. In the elevator, Neo took Trinity's hand, fingers twining with hers, her words echoing in his head. "The Matrix can not tell you who you are."

[iwatchgreys-imbasicallyasurgeon]

1-50 lol 😋😋😋😋

1. What color are your socks? I'm not wearing any. My feets are naked.

2. Have you ever lied about your age? Why? No I have not.

3. What is something you regret in the past month? I don't think I have anything that I regret in the past month.

4. Do you believe in love at first sight? I'm not sure, it's never happened for me.

5. When was the last time you wrote someone a letter on paper? It's actually been quite a while.

6. How old were you when you first learned how to ride a bike? Who taught you? I think I was six, and my mom taught me. I remember getting a bunch of scrapes on my knees lol

7. Do you get along with your parents? Why or why not? I get along with my mom really well. I don't know my father.

8. What's your favorite season? I love the fall. It's the perfect weather, I love the look of the foliage here in Maine, and its Halloween season!!!

9. Do you currently like someone? Yessum I do. A lot 😊

10. Have you ever used a Ouija board? I have! My friend and I used one once, and my lighter randomly exploded.

11. What's the last song you sang? Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish

12. What's your favorite scent? I have a few. Irish Spring soap, Love Spell perfume from Victoria's Secret, and the smell just after it rains.

13. What's your favorite urban legend? I honestly can't think of any right now 😂

14. What's a bad habit that you have? Smoking

15. What's a strange habit that you have? Most of the time, before I open my water bottle, I have to shake it or tip it. I love the sloshy water sound.

16. What's the first instrument you learned to play? I don't play any instruments, but I would LOVE to learn how to play piano.

17. How would you describe your 'type'? I don't really have a type, I just prefer someone with a good sense of humor so I can laugh and be myself with them.

18. Would you rather stay in or go out? Stay in. I'm such a homebody.

19. What's the last thing you said to your mom? "Love you too, bye!"

20. Do you want to get married someday? Absolutely :)

21. Have you ever snuck out? Not that I remember.

22. Can you sing well? I guess I'm not terrible.

23. What's an embarrassing thing that happened this week? I fell off the couch.

24. When was the last time you went sledding? I think I was 16.

25. Have you ever/do you like someone you know you can never be with? Nope

26. Do people often mispronounce your name? I had a few teachers call me Daniel while taking attendance at school.

27. Would you like to live in another country? I don't think I could live so far away from the people I love. I'd love to visit another country though.

28. Do you like to watch ghost hunting shows? Yeah!!

29. Who was the last person you said you loved to? My mom

30. What's something you'd like to be better at? Speaking in front of people.

31. Have you ever stayed up to talk to someone who was sad? Absolutely.

32. What was the last thing you cooked? Umm...probably pasta 😂

33. Do you think you would make a good parent? I'm not sure, bit I'd like to think I would.

34. Do you have trouble sleeping at night? Sometimes.

35. Where is your best friend right now? At home, likely playing For Honor.

36. How long does it take you to get ready in the morning? Kost of the time it takes about 20 minutes. But if I'm making myself look nice, it takes quite a while.

37. How late do you usually stay up at night? It depends on how tired I am, if I'm watching something, and if I'm talking to someone interesting 😁

38. When was the last time you cried and why? I cried earlier while watching a cute animal video on Facebook

39. Have you ever won a contest? Naw.

40. Can you draw well? Eh, I could definitely be better.

41. Would you ever date someone you met on Tumblr/the internet? Yes :)

42. What was the last thing you ate? Beef jerky 😁

43. Do you think you'd make a good boyfriend/girlfriend? I hope so!

44. Have you ever had a near death experience? Nope

45. What do you think people think of you? I'm not so sure I want to know, really.

46. What is your middle name and do you like it? My middle name is May, and I love it. Both my great grandmothers (on my mother's side) had that middle name.

47. Are you close with either of your parents? I'm very close with my mom.

48. Do you like yourself? I'm working on it.

49. State five facts about your appearance. My eyes are grayish blue with a little green around the center; I'm very freckly; I have to wear a lot of mascara because my eyelashes are very very light; my natural hair color is strawberry blonde; I hate my legs

50. State five facts about your personality. I'm really really shy in person at first; I love to laugh and make people laugh; I have bad social anxiety but it doesn't affect my work somehow; 99.9% of the time I've got a song stuck in my head; sometimes when I'm manic I forget to breathe

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

i don’t think i’ve ever Talked About This except in the briefest of passing, but i didn’t Record It anywhere else, and you don’t have to read this if you don’t want to. (Update: It got Really Fucking Long. Three screens so far!) 

But I think I need to write about it, before I start forgetting it’s A Thing again.

I struggle with something called Secondary Anorexia.

I phrased it as such very intentionally-- “I struggle with”, not “struggled”, not “healed from”, not “I had”. Because, as far as I can tell, from my own experience, my own perspective with having both, it’s a lot like my experience with depression, or the phobia, or ptsd, or adhd. The scars from it are always there. It’s a sort of addiction, to a sort of thought habit, that your subconscious thinks, for whatever maladaptive reason, will help you.

You can learn to recover your bearings after a breakdown. You can learn to return to normal more quickly. You can learn to cope with it. You can learn to be brave and fight with it when it starts acting up. You can even learn to defeat it! But the memories, scars, and habits remain with you, pitting your present condition against your past experiences, even when you’ve done everything in your power to train your brain.

Every single thought you have has the power to change your brain on a physical level. Did you know that? (This isn’t modern optimism; a real neurological fact based on science and studies.) Your Thoughts Change Your Brain.

But the thing is, sometimes your thoughts aren’t as Empowered to make as BIG of a change as that traumatic moment when your amygdala, and whatever other parts of your brain that process Thoughts and Emotions and Long-Term Memory got involved. 

You still have depression, or a phobia, or ptsd, or adhd. You’ve just learned to live with it.

And this anorexia? I’m still learning how to fight it. And I’m going to be honest, a lot of my motivation isn’t some abstract, long-term health goal, like “it’s not healthy to skip meals”. But I fight because, almost, almost as traumatic as the times when My Phobia was Triggered, were the times I passed out. Hit my face on furniture on the way down. Felt absolutely dreadfully ill even if I’d eaten that day, even hours after coming to, because my body was just so absolutely exhausted and hypoglycemic that I could barely lift my hand. The sociophobic guilt and embarassment when you pass out right in front of someone. Especially with your brain so fogged it would put San Francisco to shame, and you can’t explain it, or tell them how to help, or assure them you’ll be okay?

But even the thought of passing out, going through that again, isn’t enough to force myself to eat sometimes. (Because of how strong the fear is, I often decide, on a very conscious and willing level, that I’d rather pass out and go to the hospital than wind up being sick.)

The thing about e/metophobia is that, it’s a phobia. It’s an Irrational Terrifying Thing. (although, if you knew the way my body reacted before, during, and after it happens? You wouldn’t call it very “irrational”, my mother even said it might be a form of ptsd rather than specific phobia disorder. But I had the phobia long before I learned how Truly Miserable it would make me.)

And even with, gods at this point FOURTEEN YEARS of meditation experience, 18 years of practice with Disciplining My Thoughts, and lifetime of teaching myself to Be Rational in the face of Emotion? ESPECIALLY fear???

Even with my literal lifetime’s accomplishments in these fields, I can’t turn off the fear. I can’t work myself through it until the Stimuli (re: Stomach Feeling Bad) actually goes away. All the mindfulness exercises and self-talk experience and energy work and redirection and distraction and rest in the world can’t bring me back to a Stable, Calm Center when the phobia is even REMOTELY triggered!

I’m not in the mood to delve into everything the phobia does to me; there’s a reason that, even as transparent and convenient it is to have it on my blog here, records of the Actual Events get relegated to an entirely different blog. I can’t even stand THINKING about it. But I have e/metophobia because, in short, my body can’t handle it. My mind can’t handle my body going utterly insane with it. I have never, ever, EVER experienced that “relief” you’re supposed to feel when it’s done; that’s a big fat fucking myth to me. If hell is real, and my pagan ass is relegated there for eternity? It would be exactly That Phobia Trigger happening perpetually; there is literally no suffering in this world that affects me as deeply, completely, makes me unravel the way that having my phobia triggered does.

So, when I feel like It Might Happen? The only thing I can do to prevent it is Not Eat. (Sometimes it’ll happen even then. But statistically, when I feel that bad, if I don’t eat, it won’t. 99.9% of the time, it won’t Actually Do That if I don’t eat.)

So when I’m not eating? That’s what I’m doing. Not just feeding an Avoidant Behavior, but preventing dehydration; preventing hypokalemia and hypotension; I’m preventing trauma; I’m legitimately preventing my body’s condition from deteriorating any further. A little light-headedness is absolutely a small price to pay for knowing I can still stand. Still talk. Still go to work. Still do what I need to do. Still SLEEP.

It’s an absolutely essential defense mechanism for getting through any number of nausea sessions without utterly breaking down.

And yes, “Secondary Anorexia” is, in fact, the term my psychologist gave me by way of diagnosis.

I’m not sure what the criteria is, exactly, but my weight fluctuates wildly-- we’re talking up and down twenty pounds every month. In the past couple years, I only got as close to the “underweight” category as I was when I was a kid ONCE, when I was very ill. But for the most part, I can keep myself at a decent weight. With the help of medications at this point, of course... but days when even those don’t help? I’m still really prone to just, not eating. (With the meds, it’s not for a whole day. But I’ll skip a meal, sometimes two. I have to.)

And the sad/scary part of it is, it actually DOES help me. If I don’t listen, and try to make myself eat? I’m going to be traumatized. That’s just a statistical, empirical-data-supported fact of my life. The phobia is going to Be Triggered, and I’m going to Suffer Disastrously.

I wish I could pinpoint when that became the Standard, though...

I always figured there had to be Something Wrong with Being Afraid to Eat. Especially when I turned 18 and realized, that’s what I was feeling.

The way anorexia was taught in my middle-school class, as a Body Image Issue Exclusively, I didn’t think that was my problem. In fact, I didn’t even come to think that, hey maybe, being n@us0us all the time was, in fact, abnormal? (Part of that is probably because every time I told an adult I wasn’t feeling well, they told me to deal with it, or that I was faking, or that nothing was wrong because I Didn’t Have a Fever and The Phobia-Trigger Hadn’t Actually Happened. So SURELY I was just being a hypersensitive, overdramatic CHILD who didn’t know what her OWN BODY was telling her!)

--I’m sincerely so incredibly fucking bitter over that. Over that entire mentality. Something has been WRONG with me since infancy (my mother told me a couple years ago that, at the time she didn’t recognize it as a sign of tummy trouble, but when I was a baby I would curl my legs up against my body Very Often. There were times when I would just cry and cry and cry, and nothing would soothe me. How much of that might’ve been empathy in a tense and depressive household, and how much might’ve been colic, I can’t say. Obviously I just don’t remember. But Mom did say that. now that she did know what that meant, she wishes she’d looked into it.)

But anyways. This pattern, the evolution from “I don’t feel well after eating”, to realizing “hey I really don’t like feeling this way”, to “I feel sick, so maybe I shouldn’t eat right now”. to “hey maybe if I don’t eat, I won’t feel sick at all”... I don’t have any record of exactly how it evolved, except in Vaguest Life-Phase Memories.

In high school, I was writing and drawing emvents frequently enough to fill a folder with them. I used to skip breakfast in middle school, because I’d wake up feeling so sick.  (I remember a couple times, in my earlier memories, I had tried to eat when feeling unwell, and it only made me feel worse, to the point where I’d start contemplating Where to Go when it DID, which of course made Eating While Feeling Ill a very Aversive Thought. But I was so afraid of my parents forcing me to eat that, rather than explain to them that I wasn’t feeling well, I would make food, and either pretend to eat it and then HIDE IT, or throw it away when they weren’t looking. Sometimes I took toast or an apple to school, thinking my appetite would come back, but most days it went entirely uneaten.

And I remember... one morning, that I’m not going to detail. I don’t remember if stepmom took me or if I took the bus, so it might’ve even been elementary school. But I remember regretting eating, and then It Happened, and thinking back, I’m impressed with myself that I didn’t completely throw away the blankets afterwards. Then again, I don’t think my phobia was as Settled In at the time, because I didn’t have So Many Experiences to cement it as the immense Anticipatory Dread it would become.... but because of that morning, to this day I get immensely uneasy whenever I see those pancake-wrapped sausage things in the freezer section, and that unease is why I think I’ve never bought frozen breakfast food, because I can’t even have them in my peripheral vision.

Around the same time as that, I woke up feeling TERRIBLE, and was so open about my misery and panic that it shocked my stepmother into letting me stay home. I recovered, after not eating and a few hours of rest. I remember telling her, when I came down, “I think I’m nausi-phobic.” (I didn’t know e/metophobia was The Thing until I was about... gods, 16, maybe 17. But I knew how badly Feeling Nausea freaked me out, even at age 13.)

As for when my psychologist told me that what I experience is, indeed, a diagnosable Secondary Condition? It must’ve been around October or maybe November/December of 2017. (Those months when I got really, incredibly ill, and didn’t know why. Still don’t know why, to this day... but I’m making an appointment to figure it out. Sometime. You know that adhd struggle I keep talking about? Yeah, whenever I freaking REMEMBER to make an appointment when offices are actually OPEN.......)

Or it might’ve been after when she brought out that phrase, because I think I was working at this job when I was talking to her about my anxieties. (I remember, I was waiting at a bus stop to go to the dog-boarding job, so it must’ve been more recent, in fact...)

I’ve been typing at this for over an hour and I really need to go to bed, but.... I feel like I haven’t even put down half my thoughts here. I might resume tomorrow, if the inclination strikes. For now, just.... God if you read all the way down to here, first of all can I borrow your attention span, and second, thank you!

[tangyss]

The anon who talked about TDP and losing their 2+ year obsession with voltron is such a mood. Literally I used to love the show so much but lately thats been going away as I join other fandoms and realize how wrong we were done... And I hate that because it makes me sad. I wish I could leave on a happy note as well but I wont give up until the end of season 8. Its just disappointing :,) 👍

i feel this completely..... voltron was like my go to comfort when i felt upset or bored and was like 99.9% of the thing that made me excited to draw and write and stuff.. i really wish in like 5 years or smth id be sitting down to rewatch it feeling nostalgic and happy n stuff but i know im going to feel nothing but disappointment, despite what happens in s8. lm and jds literally ruined everything so that's fun!!!!!!!! 3':

[phantom-of-the-keurig]

Update on my fiancé

So, my poor other half is just really unlucky it seems. When he first called to tell me he was on the way to the hospital I misunderstood exactly what happened. It turns out my fiancé didn’t get stuck by the syringe while searching the suspects pocket, he was patting the outside of the pocket to feel for anything first.

The needle just happened to be bent, and it went straight through the dudes jeans and into my fiancé’s finger. That’s so, so unlucky because 99.9% of the time it doesn’t poke out like that and the officer can feel the syringe safely.

Anyway, actual update. Fiancé spent like 6 hours in the hospital because they were packed, but they tested him for HIV / Hep C / some other stuff I think. It all came back negative. Of course, that was expected because it’s really unlikely to get a positive result that soon after it happened.

The good news is, the suspect actually consented to a blood draw. I was shocked because the two times this has happened to my dad (he got bit two separate times by drug dealers) the perps refused to have their blood drawn for testing. Our good old state of [redacted for privacy reasons] won’t force a suspect to give blood, even if an officers safety is in question. But that’s neither here nor there.

Anyway suspect had his blood tested, he was negative for HIV and Hep C. Which is really really really good news, but we aren’t out of the woods yet.

The dude swears up and down he never shares needles, and I’m sorta inclined to believe him since he was willing to comply and have his blood drawn. Then again, I’ve had the misfortune of knowing / being around drug users a little too much and I’m not sure if I really believe him.

The doctor says it’s an extremely small chance my fiancé has anything, but to be safe he’ll have to periodically have his blood tested for like the next year. Right now we’re also holding off on sharing drinks or anything like that, at least until his next blood test.

It makes me sad because I can’t kiss my fiancé goodnight, I can’t kiss him good morning, and I can’t kiss him before he goes off to work. It makes me really, really sad.

[whoinwhoville]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Doctor Who (2005), Broadchurch Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Alec Hardy/Rose Tyler Characters: Alec Hardy, Rose Tyler Additional Tags: pregnancy!fic, Flu, happy bloody valentine's day, UST, married, Fluff Series: Part 5 of ClosedVerse, Part 2 of Whoville's Follower Milestone Celebration Summary:

It's one week after that Bloody Valentine's Day, and Rose has passed the flu along to Alec. Talk about a mini-break gone wrong.

Written for @pipertennant, winner of the Alec x Rose ficlet for my Follower Milestone fic drawing. Her prompt was Getaway Gone Wrong

Rose startled as Alec sneezed, drawn-out and thunderous.

“I can not bloody believe this.” Alec flopped back onto the pillow. A scattering of toxic tissues littered the floor next to the bed where he’d missed the little bin.

Rose sat on the edge of the mattress and smoothed his fever-droopy hair off of his forehead. “I’m so, so sorry. I feel responsible. I gave this bug to you.”

“Stop that. You’re not responsible.” He smirked, and then groaned.

She withdrew her hand and sighed. “You know what I mean, Alec. Don’t be a prat.”

“Sorry. I’m not mad at you.” Alec took her hand and kissed it. “At least I can’t give it back to you.”

“I really wish Torchwood had the antidote for this one. Sorry to say this, but it’s going to get a lot worse before you start to feel better.”

“Well you had better tell them to get of their arses and get working on that antidote yesterday. You seem to have some pull over there.” Alec cracked a smile even though his eyes were closed.

Rose crawled over him to the other side of the bed. She punched the fluffy the goose-down pillow and propped herself against the elegant, carved headboard. “This room is amazing. Didn’t know about this place. You did good, DI Hotty.”

“Yeah, and I can’t enjoy it. No moonlight beach walks. No 99s. Bloody flu. Bloody non-cancelation policy at the hotel. I want to go home, Rose.” He coughed, and then wheezed, and then coughed again.

“You’re too sick to go home. You can get pampered here. Order room service, soak in that huge tub, watch all the telly you want.”

“You know I hate telly. Bloody waste of time.”

“Just saying…” She crossed her arms and pursed her lips. “Not like there’s anything else you can be doing right now. You couldn’t be at work anyway, so how is it wasting time?”

He harrumphed and flopped onto his side, facing away from her.

“Alec, can’t you even try to rest? I know you feel wretched, but don’t take it out on me.”

“You took it out on me when you had the flu!”

“Oh, so we’re gonna do this, then? Tit for tat? Even Steven? A bit juvenile, if you ask me.” Rose sighed hard and closed her eyes. It was her turn to sigh.

They were both quiet for a while, and the room was silent until Rose started to flip through the room service menu.

“Want something to eat?”

“Soup. And hot tea. And both will be rubbish. Too much salt in the soup. And no one makes tea as good as you.”

Rose half smiled. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me since you spiked that fever.”

Alec again rolled on to his side, but this time he faced his wife. “I’m being a bastard.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. But you aren’t very pleasant to be around right now. If you weren’t honestly sick, I’d say you had Man Flu.”

“There is no such thing as Man Flu.”

“Sorry. That was rude. But I’m trying my best to make this easier for you, DI. I really am.”

“I know.” He coughed and then groaned. “I wanted to make up for the shoddy Valentine’s Day. You had flu. I didn’t get you anything. I—“

“Alec, don’t. You didn’t have to do this you know, book this mini-break. I never thought of this as trying to make up for Valentine’s Day.”

He was quiet.

“There wasn’t anything to make up for. I liked our Valentine’s Day. Jammie Dodgers and curry? Near the top of my list of favourite things. The only bad part was the flu bit.”

He nodded gingerly, eyes closed. “So not a do-over, then. But this is the truth. I did it because I wanted to do something nice for my lovely wife who puts up with my moods and irritation and complaints on a daily basis.”

Rose kissed his cheek and stretched out next to him. She rested her head on his chest and listened to his steady heartbeat.

He threaded his fingers through her soft hair and let out an exhausted sigh.

“What would be doing right now if you didn’t have a fever of 102?” Rose asked against his chest.

He pondered for a moment. “It’s almost eight, so right about now, we are being seated for dinner. Candle light. Champagne. Strawberries dipped in real chocolate, not the chalky fake kind.”

“Oi! Are you ever going to give that a rest? That was the first and last time I ever bought that.”

“I’ll never stop teasing you about that.”

She laughed quietly. “What next?”

“And after dinner, there we will be dancing in the glass-domed conservatory.”

“What are you wearing?” she asked.

“There’s a dress code at the restaurant, so I’m in my nicest suit — nothing I ever wear to work. It’s the one I wore to our wedding.”

“Blue tie, or red?”

“Red.”

She hummed happily. “I like that one.”

“What are you wearing?” he asked.

“I am wearing that black cocktail dress that I wore to the Torchwood Christmas party.”

“Sexy. I like that dress because I can feel your back while we’re dancing. Can slip my hands under the fabric. And it’s got that low cut bit up front.”

“Knew you liked it.”

“What shoes?” he asked.

“You do have a thing for shoes, don’t you?”

“Heels show off your brilliant running legs.”

“Four inch stilettos. They get me closer to your lips.”

Alec scratched her scalp. “Cheeky. What colour are they?”

“Shiny red. The bloke who sold them to me said they made my legs look good.“

Alec quietly grunted, and Rose laughed quietly. “Jealous?”

“Always.”

“Don’t be. And these don’t hurt—“

He completed her thought. “They don’t hurt your feet. On the other hand, you won’t have to kick them off and play footsie under the table.“ Alec laughed, but it turned into a racking coughing spell.

“Oh, love. I’m so sorry you have to deal with this.” Rose lifted her head and looked at him with sad eyes.

He encouraged her to return her head to his chest. “After we dance for a while, we’ll go into the bar for a nightcap. I’ll have a glass of sparkling water with lime, and you can have whatever you want. You know what they say about too much drink and sexual performance for men.”

“I doubt you could ever have that particular problem,” Rose growled as she stroked the smattering of hair on his chest.

“But remember, I’ve already had Champagne. Don’t want to tempt fate. And I want to be in my right mind when I make love to you. Want to memorise every single curve and dimple and soft and warm delicious part of you.”

Rose breathed in and out. “Not fair. This is worse than sexting. Because you’re here, and we can’t do anything about it because you’ve got the flu. You’re a tease.”

He chuckled. “Always. Teasing pays off most of the time.”

She buried her face into his chest, and breathed in the scent of his soap, but grimaced a bit as he also smelt of sweat and flu. “I’m glad we came here. Even though you have the flu, it’s still brilliant to get away.”

“Been too long.”

“Let’s do this again? But when you’re not flat on your back with the flu.”

“A non-Valentine’s do-over do-over?”

“Exactly.” Rose hesitated for a minute. “We’d better get in all of the minibreaks that we can before October.”

“What’s happening in October?”

Rose paused to chew her lip. She stilled her hand. “I was going to wait until dinner tonight, but since we aren’t going to dinner…” Her voice trailed off.

“Sorry about dinner. Never been to a Michelin two star restaurant before.”

“Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything. I should wait. You’re sick and this is important, and—“

“You’ve piqued my interest now. No going back. I could investigate. My powers of interrogation are nearly always successful.” He coughed again. “Care to confess before I begin what will certainly not be a pleasant process.”

“Usually your interrogations are extremely pleasant. I happen to know you brought your cuffs.”

“Always on duty. I don’t go anywhere without them.”

“How well I know. Came in handy in my storage room.”

“Stop stalling.”

Rose hesitated for a moment, and then rolled off of the bed. She padded across the thick carpet to her suitcase. After digging around a bit, she returned to the bed, but stood still as a statue, her face flushing. She breathed in and out a few times.

“Would you hurry it up woman?” Alec said it as strongly as he could in his weakened state.

“Sorry. I’m nervous. I don’t know what you’re going to think about this. It’s unexpected and frankly, I’m shocked because, well, it was supposed to be 99.9% effective.”

From behind her back, she produced a small parcel wrapped in light blue tissue. It was wrapped like a piece of sweet candy, each end tied with pink ribbon. She climbed onto the bed, and sat on her knees. Biting her lip, she held it out to him.

Alec’s eyes went wide. He sat up as well as he could before he took the package from her outstretched hand. One bow was released as he tugged the tail, and then the second fell free. Without tearing the paper, he unrolled the tissue.

“You’re…?” Alec pulled out a tiny pair of baby booties.

She nodded. “Pregnant. Yeah.” She picked at her fingernails and nodded. Her eyes began to glisten.

“And you’re upset?” he asked, voice small.

She shook her head, and bit back a smile. “Not hardly. I didn’t know what you’d think about it.”

With more strength than a man with the flu should have, he grabbed her hand and tugged her down to him. He peppered her face with kisses. “How could I ever be upset?” He kissed the top of her head, and placed his hand low on her back. “So when do you think it happened?”

“Hard to tell. You’re always jumping my bones,” she teased.

“I do not jump your bones. It’s not my fault you’re so incredibly irresistible.”

“I like to think it happened when we went on that walk in the snow to the gazebo.”

“You were shivering. It was my duty as a husband to warm you up.” He cleared his throat a few times, and then grabbed a tissue. “Clothes-on sex is hot.”

“Speaking of hot. We need to stop talking about this. I’m getting… hot.”

“Bloody flu.”

[ask-jungshook]

// HEYO! :D Here’s my version of the Meet the Artist meme that’s been going around! I got several admin asks as well, so might as well knock out two birds with one stone! 

Fun Facts & Q&As under the cut!

Sup! I go by Dissu! It’s my art/gaming nickname that was given to me by friends and pretty much just stuck with me to the extent that I respond to it as much as my real name haha

FUN FACTS! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

My corgi’s full name is Lucas GNAR (the latter being League of Legends inspired-- his nickname is Lulu tho ;o) I’m a total nerd and gamer if you haven’t guessed by now HAHA

I carry backpacks over small purses because I easily lose/misplace small things. (Bags with shoulder straps always slide off my shoulders too) My other two bags are a winged backpack and a small crossbody.

I carry a pillow in my backpack so I can sleep on the bus on my commute to work (I have no more shame LOL) Lucas ate an eye off it when he was a puppy, so that’s why it has one eye LOL

I doodle on post-its because they’re easier to get rid of/scrap if it comes out looking bad. I don’t have any sketchbooks because for some reason I’m really bad at drawing in books??

I have a slight case of RBF, so I will most likely look :| even though I’m :D on the inside

I dye my hair because my hair is usually extremely oily and dyeing is usually the only way to counteract it. (But mad respect to kpop groups because holy shit bleaching your hair pretty much fries it 2/10 would recommend -- also grey hair is rly hard to maintain zzz) 

My average sleep time on weekdays is 5 hrs, but on weekends it’s 12+ hrs. 

I am a self proclaimed sparkling rock (because I’m really bad at expressing my emotions irl lol)

ASKS! ( ˊᵕˋ )♡.°⑅

BTS: JIMIN by a narrow margin, JK and NAMJOON are tied for a close second (Yoongi is forever my spirit animal though)

For other KPOP groups I follow currently:

Big Bang: TOP

Sechskies: Eun Jiwon

I mainly use SAI! (and PS for animation)

And it’s ironic because I’m like 99% sure I messed up my brush settings yesterday lol but here’s what I have right now. I pretty much use the default brush for all my sketches, lineart and coloring. (The only difference is just brush size) 

I’ve been playing around with my settings more and more just for fun/ trying out new things since I already messed up my settings /weeps (I should have had a screenshot of my original settings in hindsight . . . rip me)

Q__Q omgsjakhgsdlkg thank you guys so much (●♡∀♡) <333 You all give me motivation to keep on drawinggg! <3 (I’m also rly bad at expressing thanks but tytytytyty x100000, it means a lot)

Disclaimer: Just wanna add really quickly, take what I say with a grain of salt bc what worked for me might not work for everyone.

Don’t give up & practice A LOT!

I’ve never had any ‘legit’ art classes in the sense that the only art I got from school was one elective class in high school. The program I was in during HS and the field I’m in now are both devoid of creativity lol (Which is why people at my workplace are usually surprised to see that I draw) That being said, most of my art is mainly trial and error! But it’s a hobby that I enjoy a lot, so I don’t mind the trial and error aspect of it. I also really like the fact that you can like graduallllly see improvement the more you draw! :D Only recently, I’ve been actively trying to get better and improve since I have more time to do things now. (Legit school was probably the main reason why I couldn’t draw a lot -- exams man)

To elaborate a bit, overall I think I’m an average artist at best because there’s simply so much that I still need to learn. I feel like for me, I never fully grasped the foundation for drawing (mainly anatomy), so I’m trying to relearn that now that I have free time. (I think previously, all I drew was still-life, so I . .  . can draw fruit???? LOL) Like if you look at most of my older pieces, you can see that I have no clue how to draw clothing, body structure, or color theory. (The good thing is, that I know my weaknesses, so it’s a good starting block! haha)

But for art in general, it’s all about your foundation and how you build on it. If you don’t know how to break the body down by body parts, then there’s no way that you can free draw a person that looks perfect. So at this point, for me, it’s just a quest for learning & self improvement! :D

Another important thing is to step outside of your comfort zone! I strongly believe that you learn from failure especially for art. Like I think this year was the first time I drew a full body picture because I forced myself to step away from just drawing faces only. (LOL LEGIT I’VE ONLY DRAWN HEADSHOTS OF PEOPLE FACING LEFT FOR LIKE 99.9% OF THE TIME) While it wasn’t perfect, I definitely learned from it.

I also highly suggest iterative drawing! Which is basically drawing the same thing over and over, but changing small things with every repetition. That way, you can compare and see what worked and what didn’t and carry that forward!

Also, don’t expect like change overnight! That’s one of the things I think people have a misconceptions of-- especially something that new artists can get a bit down on, because they don’t ‘see’ improvement. But JUST KEEP ON DRAWING! Because improvement will always be gradual. (It’s very similar to working out -- like you’ll gain muscle tone over time & not overnight)

Like this is probably one of the first CG pieces I drew like YEARRRRS back (maybe 2009????) when I first tried digital art vs a WIP of what I’m currently working on right now (yes, dat’s a jimin) :

So clearly, getting from point A to point B for me happened over a lot of years and not right away, but just know that it IS possible if you’re willing to be patient -- and that improvement is there even if you don’t see it! 

Also I just wanna throw out there that improvement isn’t always going to be a upwards curve, it might stagnate/plateau occasionally and that’s OK! I think when I was still in school, I took A LOT of art hiatuses that spanned months so when I would get back into drawing, my art probably looked worse LOL 

But for me personally, what it comes down to in the end, is that:

1) You’re making art because YOU enjoy it. If you go into drawing with the intention of getting famous or having a lot of notes, then there really isn’t that much personal sense of joy if you’re basing your accomplishments by how many notes you receive. Draw for the sake of yourself instead of for the sake of others -- it’s a lot more liberating.

2) You’re basing your improvement against yourself, not against other people. Everyone is different and everyone learns things at different rates, so don’t feel discouraged if someone else is improving at a different rate than you are. I know a lot of people get discouraged when they see how fast others may be improvement-- I mean there was a point where I was like that, but ultimately, improvement will always be a battle against yourself only. (This applies to like self improvement lol not just art improvement)

3) Have a positive outlook & be patient. Basically going back to point 1, art should be something that you enjoy doing/something that makes you happy! Personally for me, I don’t see a point of calling something a hobby if you find no joy in doing it. I feel like in the past my main struggles were that I was unhappy about my art because I kept on comparing it to like REALLY good people HAHAHA & because I had like no improvement in the beginning, but then I realized that there’s not point of being sad over something I can’t control. Because all artists have their own story and all artists have to start out somewhere. (tbh sometimes, all you have to do is just change your mindset a bit) 

TLDR; Lots of practice, seek improvement, try new things, have a positive outlook (BE HAPPY!!!) & don’t give up! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و HWAITING!

 >___> I just realized that I wrote a lot in no particular order, so I’m sorry that it turned into one very messy essay LOL but hopefully that was kinda helpful? igotlazierastimewentonthololsosorryifthelastsectionmadenosense 

BUT I THINK I’M FINALLY DONE LMFAO! (Also bless, this cleared out several asks from my inbox) :D If anyone’s curious about anything else, feel free to message me (or ask me stuff once my askbox re-opens) -- I’m always free to chat! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

[lunarasphodel]

I’m gonna tell a story about a guy I think about a lot. Now, let me clear up that I feel no romantic attraction to men. And even though I use they/them pronouns, I refer to myself as a lesbian because I’m only attracted to girls and the occasional non-binary person. And although I sometimes wonder if he was the one guy everyone says I’ll find, I know I didn’t like him in that way.

I think he was either a sophomore or a junior, and I won’t tell you his name cause I don’t think it’s necessary. I might edit this because I don’t want to forget his name.

Anyway, last year (my freshman year) I took Latin 1, he was in the same class. We got to pick where we sat on the first day of school, which was when and where I met one of my closest friends. But this story isn’t about her, it’s about the guy who you could hear from across the room. I don’t remember where he sat but I know he was loud, talked a lot and was one of those guys who liked to do what he wanted and didn’t notice how others felt about it. But he wasn’t a bad guy.

Later that week I got moved next to him, I don’t know why but I go to a Christian school so maybe their God had something to do with it. So I sat next to him and I discovered that he did like to talk, and to him it didn’t matter who he was talking to. Whether it be his best friend who sat directly in front of me, or that one kid who seemed to know everything about everything, or the one kid who only three people had heard talk that week, one of them being the teacher.

My usual play was to ignore these kind of guys, act exasperated and like I didn’t like them. Because if they thought I didn’t like them they wouldn’t talk to me, and they wouldn’t learn anything about me that they could use to hurt me.

But he was different, and I know I sound like every cliché ever but he didn’t make me talk to him. He slowly and silently taught me that he wasn’t going to use my information against him. And I know that sounds weird but it’s happened before.

Anyway, he was content with little nods or head shakes or short answers every now and again, he would compliment my drawings and ask for help cause Latin was hard.

Eventually I started talking more and more, his personality alone helped me to open up and talk about whatever. And it was wonderful.

This guy was the only reason I looked forward to that class.

I still have some of the written conversations we had while the teacher was talking and some of his drawings.

I remember once I was folding up and messing with a paper that contained a drawing I didn’t like he asked me what I was doing

“oh I don’t like this drawing” I said

“...can I see it?” He asked with the same sort of *please? I mean you don’t have to but I’d really like it if you let me see the art* thing he always had when he looked at any of the shitty sketches I did in the margins of my notebooks.

So I unfolded it with the thought that “I already hate it, so it can’t hurt”

and as soon as he saw it his eyes lit up and he went on a little tangent about how cool he thought it was and asked what I didn’t like about it and I told him, and he listened to every reason and said something along the lines of “okay, can those be fixed? Cause I still think it’s cool!” And I agreed, I still don’t like it, but I don’t hate it and I kept it in my notebook instead of tossing it in the bin.

Another time, I remember that I accidentally told him I was sad about something dumb and during the lesson he motioned for me to give him my notebook, and he wrote in his messy handwriting “what’s wrong? Why are you sad?” And I didn’t know how to explain the fact that I hate myself and I also didn’t want to burden him so I just scribbled back in my even messier handwriting “idk, bc I’m me?”

And I cant relay how much that his simple kindness ment to me. I know it was a dumb response and I could’ve done better but that’s all I could manage that day after crying myself to sleep the night before.

And I know this doesn’t seem all that important, cause it’s not. And even though I’m 99.9% certain he doesn’t think about the kid whose life he changed in two or three weeks, I think about him almost daily.

But this isn’t necessarily a happy ending, cause he didn’t show up for days. I worried constantly that he’d gotten hurt or worse but then I learned he just switched to online school. It was better than what I worried had happened because I like to worry about impossible things but still. I didn’t have his number, or any other means of contacting him. Meaning that as far as I knew, id never see him again.

And I know, shit like this happens. You can’t dwell on it. But I don’t know, I guess some part of me hoped that I could see him on the last day of school and say “hey, I made it.” And I know, that wouldn’t have happened anyway.

But I really wanted to invite him to the musical we put on that spring, the first one I had gotten to act in. And maybe the last. But nonetheless, I wanted to stay friends because I really liked him and he became the first person I trusted at that school.

I don’t know. I just feel like maybe he cared, maybe he would be a good friend. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if I had known and had gotten to say goodbye. Sorry, I just wanted to get this out, even though I’ll never properly convey what he meant to me or how he was. So if you got this far, thanks and I hope you have a good day or night or whenever ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[stqrlcrd-blog]

Home- Frerard

New Jersey is not a nice place to grow up.

I mean, there are the nice parts. I don't live in the nice parts; I live in Belleville.

Don't get me wrong- New Jersey is my home, but it's not safest place, y'know? It shouldn't come as a shock to anyone that sometimes you can get in dangerous situations in Jersey but that's just how it is. I've had the luck of not attracting too much attention to myself so far but luck can't fix everything. Sometimes the luck you have just isn't enough for whatever situation you’re in.

I've got a sort of talent.-I guess you could call it that (or perhaps a curse)- for hiding. I guess I had to, what with having zero redeeming qualities and generally being an immensely irritating person. Having this 'talent' has saved me so many times up to this point in my life; why does it have to fail me now?

There's a guy standing over me- well, as over as a guy who's only like 5'6 can stand- and he seems like quite a rad dude at first. He seems like the sorta guy to spend all his time at shady punk rock shows and doing illegal shit; he seems like the dude on the sidewalk that your parents steer you away from out of fear that they'll somehow corrupt you, y'know? but he's so fucking hot.

In other words, he's way out my league, especially considering his league most likely consists of amiable people who are actually functional human beings. Besides, there's a 99.9 percent chance he's straight. I am not straight. This can lead to problems when interacting with hot guys.

I mean, this dude is like a literal god. I'm not even kidding. Whereas I am a weird nerd with an addiction to aesthetic which is quite obvious due to my dishevelled crimson hair, threadbare leather jacket, and general 'fuck-you' sorta attitude. No one has to know that it's fake though; I have rep to maintain after all. I'll never acquiesce to any of the people telling me to 'be myself'. There are more important things in life than my comfort or happiness.

Nothing is going to crack my outer layer of aesthetic sanctuary. Who the fuck would want to anyway? This isn't exactly the nicest place to meet people. There's much more than two times the national average amount of crimes here. You might wonder why  I know that. Honestly, there are many reasons: I had a school project on it; I fear for my life on a regular basis; I plan to leave this shit hole as soon as I can. Take your pick.

Nothing can ever motivate me more than fear of failure. You only get one shot at life and I refuse to waste it on failure and the forgiveness of other people who would screw me over twice as bad at the drop of a hat. I'm gonna leave this place and I'm gonna make some fuckin' art and nothing is going to stop me even if that means I have to physically build a wall around me to shroud any sense of weakness and morality along the way.

I can't believe this fuckin' midget in fingerless skeleton gloves  has got me so fucked up. What an asshole. Oh well, it's not like I'm gonna ever talk to him. I mean, he's just a random guy. A very hot, very random guy.

He's wearing offensively tight skinny jeans and damn that's a nice ass. He's also wearing a hoodie but it's what's underneath that which makes it impossible to turn away. That's a fucking Smashing Pumpkins shirt. My favourite fucking band. The best album is Mellon Collie and the infinite sadness without a doubt. I've been listening to them since I was a kid when the music was all that mattered to me and my brother, Mikey. Perhaps he remind me of Mikey a bit.

Mikey and I have been looking out for each other since the very beginning. Nothing will tear us apart. When I finally get out of here I'm bringing him with me and I'm going to make sure he has a good life, even if it had a shitty start.

Suddenly the smell of smoke greets my nostrils like an old friend. This cursed alley seems much smaller and I can barely breathe. Looking around trying to track the source of the familiar smell, I find it originates from the small man in front of me. I hope he knows what he's doing to his health, or better yet I hope he doesn't. I wouldn't want anyone to willingly harm themselves in such a way. You never even see anything coming and then suddenly you're gone and all your friends are left alone because you decided to start smoking and end up having a stroke and die.

My good friend, Bert, went out that way. It was his death that lead me to stop smoking. I just couldn't dream of doing to Mikey what Bert did to me. Loneliness isn't a fate I would wish on even my greatest enemy. Always being able to hear your own thoughts in their most raw form and knowing that they're must be true because if no one else disbelieves your inhibitions then how can you not afford them the same courtesy.

I feel obligated to say something. To save him from his tragic death. It's not my place to say anything and I don't even know him. If I did say something my entire aesthetic would go to shit.

Aesthetic isn't as important as someone's life. That isn't what I'm trying to say. However I have my reasons for not wanting to give it up and altruism has never come naturally to me except towards Mikey, but that's different. I could give up this whole aesthetic thing forever and never think anything of it but my rapacious need for respect is considerably strong and I'm not gonna get that by being 'nice' to everyone and looking like weird philosophical hippy that Mikey seems to think I am on the inside.

Who am I fucking kidding? Nothing would actually change; I'm just scared. I hate seeing people get hurt and smoking is the slowest, most painful form of self-harm and self-torture that I have come across. Warning him would be the right thing to do and I feel like that's what I owe the world after poisoning it for years with my bad decisions and nicotine-induced time wasting addiction. The Earth is reaching it's pinnacle and there's no where it can go but down.

I'm terrified of losing my any respect I earned from any of my convoluted aesthetic or moral decisions. They've gotten me far in life. Back in high school I was a short nerd with more comic books than friends. All of that changed when I met Bert. He really fucked me up but it was what I needed  to survive. It was either that or staying in the mess I was in before. All I need now is an opportunity to leave and then I'm out of this hell. Aesthetic is all I've got. I don't need to go around governing stranger's decisions.

"Y'know you don't need to keep staring at me. If there's something you wanna ask just go for it."

Well I guess I'm not the only one wearing a mask to hide them self. I wonder what happened to lead this guy to hide behind his skin.

He looks like an apathetic twat, a hot one as well. He should not sound so intrigued. Intrepid and rebellious is what he should be but he sounds so nice. Like a hot coffee on a cold day, or any day really. Coffee is the sweet nectar of the gods. To be compared to such a divine beverage is, in my books, the highest honour. So basically what I'm trying to get across is that he's beatifically seraphic.

I really shouldn't speak to him, although I suppose he did offer.

"I'm not staring, asshat. I just wanna know why you would do that to your body."

Sure, I may have sounded a bit harsh but, come on, smoking damages the Earth too.

"What do you care what I'm doing to my body? It doesn't matter anyway. I've had a shitty day."

I may have sounded harsh- but I definitely wasn't that harsh.

The sound of sniffling draws my attention upwards toward his face. His ever are a beguiling hazel, dragging you in like a magnet only for you to begin to see not only hazel but hints of brown, green, yellow and every colour of the sun. His eyes are like the entire galaxy stolen and frozen inside two mesmerising orbs for all of eternity. Those eyes should never have to feel the melancholy warmth of tears slowly filling them. something must be very wrong for them to be streaming with tears glistening in what little sunshine there will ever be in New Jersey at this time of year because he deserves better.