#and I feel like a complete fraud

[mironovs]

trying to make art bc a coworker asked me to draw smth for him and I’m just sitting here trying not to cry because of how fucking shit I am at art

[androgynouspenguinexpert]

bout time i posted the og bc in the immortal words of yahtzee croshaw shit's about to get FUCKY!

also i like him :)

[more-better-words]

The imposter syndrome hitting REAL hard tonight.

[stairset]

One thing about the Degenerate video is in spite of any concerns I have over the AI shit it's actually not my least favorite music video from them. That dubious honor still goes to the Bringing It Down 2.0 video.

[graevs666]

​idk not being able to trust ur own memories thoughts and feelings and constantly second guessing everything u think and do is no way to live

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

I have next to no confidence that I can remember any of the skills that I’ve picked up over the course of my education and generally feel as though I will slip up one day and reveal myself to be a total incompetent.

However, I counterbalance this impostor anxiety with a supreme, almost egotistical, conviction in my ability to bs my way through literally any situation

[vampirebutterflies]

listen ‘ere boy there is a voice in ur head telling u ur fine and you don’t need to go to therapy tomorrow and that voice is a f u c k i n g liar don’t listen to it boy don’t fuckin’ listen to that rat ass bastard it does NOT have ur best interests at heart

[motionpicturesforcarrie]

ok i guess im a high school senior now killsmyself ig

[misskamelie]

Can't listen to the soundtrack from Princess Mononoke because I bawl my eyes out the moment The Legend of Ashitaka plays

[agayconcept]

.

[dan-sing-in-the-rain]

personal vent in the tags

[silentromance]

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Does anyone else perceive the sensation of jealousy as physically painful? It sucks because I feel jealous of people all the time, particularly if they are better than me at something I like to do, or am in the process of doing.

On the plus side, this painful jealousy has instantly bitch-slapped me out of depressive states and overridden my executive dysfunction on multiple occasions. It makes me extremely productive. But it would be nice to just be happy for people lol

[ellecdc]

Hii, love your work. Can you please do a poly!marauders were slytherin reader feels insecure because she got jealous ran she is not use to it as she is consider slithering royalty and all. Is okay if you don’t. Take care <3<3

thanks for requesting lovie!!

poly!marauders x fem slytherin!reader CW: hurt/comfort, insecurity & slight jealousy, fluff

You felt ridiculous. How could you have been so naïve? How could you have thought this would leave you feeling any other way than you were feeling right now?

You watched as Sirius threw his head back and let out a boisterous laugh, his neck on full display as his hair fell behind his shoulders. He looked beautiful like this – completely serene in his joy. James was laughing too; his eyes scrunched closed as he leaned into Remus’ side, teeth shining so bright against his beautifully tanned skin. Remus had a wonderfully mischievous smirk on his face as he looked on at Sirius, pulling James further into his side before firing off some no doubt witty remark that you couldn’t hear from where you were standing. It was met with another round of laughter.

You don’t know what the joke was, you don’t know what was so funny. You’re not sure you want to know anyway; feeling sick at the sight of the boys surrounded by Gryffindor girls.

It wasn’t the girls that bothered you; you liked them – a lot - and you hated that you liked them. They were sweet and funny and easy going and so not you. 

It was the easy familiarity that the boys had with them – the inside jokes, the years of having lived in the same tower, the friendships that fully preceded your relationship with the boys. 

You could never manage Lily’s quick-witted comebacks. You could never compare to Marlene’s boisterous and colourful storytelling. You could never be Mary’s easy confidence in the group. 

You’d never feel that comfortable, that casual, that at ease.

You felt like nothing.

Perhaps you were nothing...at least up here. You were all but royalty in the dungeons, but your notoriety didn’t follow you up to the Gryffindor tower.

You were such a fool.

You quickly turned on your heel and headed back the way you came. You’d only been to Gryffindor tower once before – and it was in the middle of the night after a party in the room of requirement. The boys had said they would leave the portrait open for you to join them after you finished tutoring the first years in Transfiguration. Perhaps you should have known better.

Perhaps you should have known better.

Things were different in the light of day. You were different in the light of day. Certainly, they’d see that – they’d all see it. You were a fraud, getting by on borrowed time. 

You should have known better.

You were waiting for the moving staircase when you heard your name being called.

“Hey Princess! Where’re ya headed?” James greeted as he caught up to you.

Your shoulders began to migrate up to your ears, embarrassed at getting caught sneaking off. 

“Erm, I was just headed to my dorm, actually.” You admitted shyly. You felt even more guilty when you saw James’ face fall slightly.

“You didn’t want to hang out with us?” He teased, but you couldn’t help but notice the slight anxiety in his voice, looking like he was trying to stop himself from reaching out to you.

“There you are, gorgeous!” Sirius called from down the hall as he approached with Remus – no doubt having chased after you more slowly than James had on Remus’ account. 

“Well? Come on then.” Remus said plainly as he held his hand out – for you to take or for you to hand him your book bag, you weren’t sure.

“Uhm, I-”

“She said she was heading back to her dorm.” James interjected.

Sirius scoffed. “Fat chance babe, you promised us a date! Come on, the girls are waiting for you.”

“For me?” You asked incredulously.

Remus seemed tired of holding his hand out for you, so he moved to take your bag from your grasp and pushed you into Sirius’ side who quickly hooked his arm in yours.

“’Course! They love hanging out with you. We told them they could hang with us for five minutes only though – then we get you all to ourselves.” He said shoving his nose into your jaw before finishing his sentence with a kiss to your cheek.

“I didn’t know they cared for me at all.” You admitted, more to yourself than to anyone else.

Remus hummed as he moved to walk on your other side, his hand not currently holding your book bag safely enveloped in James’. “Is that why you were running away before?”

You felt like you were going to melt into the stone floor out of pure shame “I wasn’t running...” You huffed.

Sirius scoffed at you again. “Sure; you never run, and James doesn’t strut. Come on dollface, why were you running from us?” 

“I... I wasn’t running from you.”

Remus nudged his shoulder gently against yours, forcing you to sway listlessly further into Sirius’ side. “Did you get a little too caught up in your own head again?”

Honestly, the ground could swallow you up at this point, thank you very much – you both loved and hated that these boys could read you like the back of a potions textbook. 

“I guess.” 

“Sweetheart.” James cooed at you before he stepped out in front of you, forcing everyone to come to a stop. “We talked about this, yeah? You’re supposed to tell us when you’re feeling like this.” He punctuated his words by rubbing your upper arms and bending down to force you to make eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry.” You admitted, feeling embarrassingly close to tears.

“We don’t want you to be sorry, love. We want you to talk to us, that’s all. We care about you an awful lot – and so do the girls. We want you to feel comfortable with us.” Remus added softly. You groaned in response.

“But I can’t!” You stated perhaps more sharply than the moment called for. “I can’t.” You amended more softly.

“Can’t what, babes?” Sirius encouraged.

“I can’t be like you guys. Or your friends. I can’t be quick and funny, or loud and exciting, or confident and mellow. You are all the same, and I’m just...” you trailed off pathetically at the feeling of a tear fall from your lash line. 

“Oh, my love.” James cooed softly as he moved to wipe the offending tear from your face with his thumb.

“We don’t want you to be like us or them, dolly. Did you ever think about that?” Sirius questioned. You moved your dejected gaze to him. “Maybe we like you because you’re not like us; simply because you are the way you are.”

“I love how calm and collected you are all the time. Whenever the room feels too loud – I look for you.” James admitted.

“And I love how you’re always listening, even if you’re not actively participating in the conversation. I know you have smarter things to add to the conversation than the rest of us do, but you’re just as happy to let us flounder before one of us relents and asks you for your opinion.” Sirius said with a smirk.

“And I love how you’ve never once let your anger dictate how you behave. I’d go as far as to say you’ve never been angry, but I know everyone gets angry. So that just tells me that you are incredibly introspective, and face things with a clear mind.” Remus added.

“None of us are like that – none of us could ever be you.” James concluded with a gentle squeeze of your shoulder. 

You allowed their words to sink in before taking a shuddering breath and returning your gaze to them. “I’m sorry for running earlier.”

James offered you a lopsided smile. “Don’t be – just tell us next time, yeah?”

You quickly agreed with a nod of your head, and he moved in to press his lips to yours.

“We better hurry.” Sirius said, squeezing your hand twice in his. “Marlene’s dying to hear your stories about the silly little first years from your tutoring group. She couldn’t stop talking about how funny your stories were last time.”

Perhaps you had no reason to feel insecure at all. 

[lkfarrout]

(tw: war)

Its been on my mind lately that if Stanley left home in the late 60's or early 70's he would have been eligible for the vietnam draft. And that maybe the first time he commited identify fraud was to evade the draft. One of his prison sentences may have even been due to this. The sentence for draft evasion was 5 years, and while we know his time imprisoned in Columbia was due to a heist, we're left in the dark about his other sentences.

Maybe at first, Stanley had intentions of getting his family the money honestly, but the draft threw a wrench into the whole thing and it spiraled him into a life of crime until the postcard came.

Meanwhile, Stanford was exempt because he was enrolled as a college student. University enrollment allowed deferment from the draft until schooling was complete. And if Ford was enrolled in PHD programs until after 1974, he would've never had to report.

I wonder, did Stanford ever watch the news, the riots, and think about his brother potentially being sent to die in a foreign country? Did he care?

Did Stan ever feel like a coward for not going to war? Did he wonder if his family would have thought of him as a hero - if more people would have attended his funeral - if he had died in vietnam instead?

[inamindfarfaraway]

I would find Blondie Lockes very annoying in real life, but I love her in fiction. She's a genuinely good journalist in terms of both skill and ethical integrity, who only occasionally forgets to check the facts because she's fifteen and holds herself accountable when she does. She has incredibly high standards for everything and believes herself to be the ultimate authority on quality. She has magical lockpicking powers because her fairytale is about Goldilocks breaking into a house. She somehow completely ignores the story's moral that Goldilocks was wrong to break into the house, feels entitled to go wherever and help herself to whatever she's able to and cannot comprehend why people dislike this. She's been terrorizing an anthropomorphic bear family with her cheerful disrespect for privacy and is convinced that they love her. She has a non-anthropomorphic pet baby bear. Her motivation is dependence on external approval rooted in deeply internalized classism. She's desperate to be useful and important to those with higher social status and feels the need to lie that her family is technically royalty to fit in with her royal friends, even though they treat commoners like equals all the time. She positions herself as a conduit of true greatness; closer to it than the masses, but never the hero, always reporting on other people and evaluating what they've done. Because what she's done isn't enough to be worthwhile. What she is isn't enough. But this performative lifestyle makes her anxious about being judged as a fraud and an interloper, and ashamed of selfishly transgressing against social norms. Her microphone head looks like an adorable little bear head. That's one hex of a character alright.