#and hold on now‚ here's the kicker! i need to keep convincing myself there's love like that in me and acceptance in me because i need to

[bredforloyalty]

going back to wolves, it's all the same it's the same thing as what i said about niceness and my cunt of a father

[chocolatemillkk]

Intensity JS-wip

“We’re dating each other.” Y/N bursts into my room. “Okay? You’re my date.”

“Who-“

“Byron let me in,” she explains before I could ask my question.

“Why-“

“Long story or short?” She plops herself onto my bed and falls back, grabbing a pillow to scream into.

“Is that the short story?” I chuckle as I go back to folding my laundry.

“Long story it is. So you know how going back home for the holidays is always such a pain because my extended family is a pain in the-”

“Yeah-“ I try to get in but she cuts me off.

“And remember I’m always forced to face my ex-the one I dated for two bloody years and who dumped me for my cousin?”

“You’ve mentioned about a million tim-“

“So this year my mum invited that little bitch to ours for Christmas dinner because her parents are travelling the world or some shite and she has no one for Christmas dinner. But here’s the kicker! Turns out she’s still with my ex and they’re engaged now...”

I listen, amused at how fast Y/N zooms through her story. She’s equal parts angry, stressed, and already convinced I would say yes.

“So in order for me to keep the sliver of respect I still have, and not to look like a complete loser who hasn’t held a steady boyfriend since...well...since him. I need to bring a boyfriend home. I thought about bringing home a girlfriend just to freak everyone out-you know...but none of my friends were up for it. They already look at me weird because I do Youtube for a career but-“

“Y/N,” I push my clothes aside and jump onto the bed to push her down. She goes down with a shout and I kneel over her. “Shut up will you? I’ll bloody come as long as I’m back in London by Sunday.”

“Oh you will. Dinner’s Friday and we’re leaving right after!”

“You’re mad you know that?” I shake my head and she delivers a foot to my stomach. I lose my balance and come crashing down onto the bed beside her.

“You’ll see why I’m so mad when I take you home.” Y/N scrubs her eyes.

“I’ll finally ask your mum if she dropped you on your head as a child,” I say, pushing Y/N’s buttons even more. I get the desired response-a string of swear words before she bounces off the bed.

“Now I have to go look for a dress that’ll make me look uh-mazing,” Y/N pauses by my door. “And I’ll pick you up Friday at 3.”

“Alright,” I sit up in bed. “And Y/N?” She turns to look at me, her cheeks flushed and mind whirring, a million miles away. “I don’t think you’re a complete loser.”

I manage to pull her back to the present as she focuses on what I’d just said. She rolls her eyes and sticks up her middle finger before leaving but not before I see the smile grace her face. I lay back down on the bed with the same smile that she never failed to leave me with.

•••

Y/N and I were complicated but at the same time we weren’t. We’d met on New Year’s a few years back and after a flirty night we somehow decided to stay friends. Somewhere along the way we became inseperable. But sometimes I wondered what would have happened that night if I did work up the courage to kiss her like I wanted, or if I asked her out on a date the next time we met instead of asking her if she wanted to join the boys and I for brunch.

Y/N was fierce to the outside world but I knew the softer side of her. The one she allowed me to see after many vulnerable drunk conversations and road trips we often took alone. She was my partner in crime and I was lucky she’d picked me to talk to that New Year’s Eve.

I sit in the passenger’s seat of Y/N eco friendly car-a spot I was so familiar with the seat probably had an imprint in the shape of my bum. Christmas carols play softly through the stereo but I can’t focus because Y/N continues talking through them.

“So not quite a year but almost,” Y/N tries to get our fake history right.

“How about we say we made it official at last New Year’s so it’s easy to remember?” I suggest.

“Oh you’re genius,” she grins a toothy grin. “Yes-oh by the way Josh was telling me about the costumes you ordered for that video? When’s that happening?”

We get side tracked talking about work and by the time we pull up to Y/N’s childhood home, she’s less anxious but its not completely gone. I manage to get her out of the car and hold her her hand as we get to the front door. Her mum opens, trying to hide her shocked expression at my presence but reassuring me she has plenty of food. Y/N’s younger sister barely spares me a glance from her phone, already decided years ago that I was weird after walking in on Y/N and I trying to eat cupcakes without our hands (in all fairness it was for a video). Her dad welcomes me warmly and we’re all sat in the sitting room when the doorbell rings.

“Oh that’s probably Eve and Jim!” Y/N’s mum gets up to get the door.

“Wonderful,” Y/N glances at me and then says something to her sister which sets her off laughing.

Y/N •••

“Y/N,” my cousin sounds scandalized as she observes Joe. “Is this Joe?”

“Yeah,” Joe’s hand circles my waist answering before I could. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“I didn’t know you two were dating,” she eyes our posture and wraps her hands around Jim’s waist. Her fiance. Gross.

Jim greets Joe wearily and glances at me before deciding to concentrate on the Christmas tree. I’m better off without him, I remind myself. Eve and him were a better couple anyway. I had moved on to better things. He wasn’t even that great.

“Yeah we are,” I find my voice. “Joe and I. We’re...in love! Right?”

“Very much,” Joe smiles at me but his eyes are teasing me so I avoid looking into them in case I start laughing again. He made it very hard to stay serious.

“That’s so cute!” Eve says before moving on to greet my sister. I roll my eyes to Joe before we take our seats which happen to be right across from the vacant seats Eve and Jim were going to take. I’m grateful for Joe who wraps his arms around my shoulders and keeps me comforted until dinner. He knows exactly what to do and say to make it believable, even pecking my cheek when Eve asks our first date story which he pulls out of his arse. He deserved an Oscar. I would tell him after.

Joe •••

“So Jim,” I say halfway into dinner. He didn’t speak much but I wanted to know the guy who was Y/N’s firsts. He didn’t seem much her type but I figured there was more under the surface. “What are the plans for the wedding?”

“It’s a summer wedding,” he says slowly. “I thought autumn would be nice but Eve didn’t want to risk bad weather and whatnot.”

“Not just bad weather,” Eve cuts in and begins detailing her wedding plans which Y/N kicks me under the table for starting.

“You see you two going that way?” Jim asks me after a while as Eve continues to explain to Y/N her bridesmaid dress.

“Y/N and me?” I ask, caught off guard.

“Yeah,” Jim laughs, raising an eyebrow. “I can see the way you two look at each other. And she’s a great girl.”

“Yeah...you would know,” It’s easy to slip in my question. “She’s kind of close lipped about what happened with you two...?”

“Really?” Jim glances at Y/N almost like she scared him. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

“Guess not,” I force a laugh. The truth was Y/N went on many rants about how unreliable men were and I knew that was due to Jim, she’d told me vaguely he broke up with her and started dating Eve a few weeks later. But never the details.

“We were young and-“ Jim hesitates and glances at Y/N and then back to me. “She was always a little intense you know? It was just...a little much for me.”

“I think she’s perfectly intense,” I feel myself getting defensive and Jim catches it too.

“Who’re you calling intense?” Y/N says at the same time, her eyes burning...well...intensely.

“Uhm,” Jim shakes his head. “Just talking to Joe-“

“You.” I say. “I was saying I loved your intensity.” Y/N stares at me suspiciously, trying to read whether I was lying or not. “It’s part of your charm.”

“Y/N’s charm is scaring everyone away,” her sister comments and Eve laughs.

“Shut up idiot,” Y/N stares daggers at her sister but she just shrugs.

“Well it’s sort of true,” Eve gloats. “In secondary everyone eventually stopped hanging out with you because you scared them all away.”

“Or maybe it’s because you always bitched about me to anyone who listened,” Y/N bites back but her voice shakes.

“Language,” Y/N’s dad warns.

“Well hey, I’m still here,” I interrupt and grab Y/N’s hand to hold, hoping to change the subject around.

“Yeah that’s cause you’re...weird. Like Y/N.” Her sister eyes me.

“Hey,” Y/N’s mum scolds everyone but I mouth a thanks to her sister and she rolls her eyes. She looked just like Y/N. “Let’s not have this conversation right now please. Eve your plate’s empty would you like seconds?”

“Yeah Eve,” Y/N spits. “Want some sloppy seconds?”

Eve’s mouth drops and Y/N’s parents scold her as her sister giggles.

“So mature,” Eve crosses her arms. “No reason to stay jealous Y/N.”

“Why would I be jealous of pathetic Jim over here.”

“Y/N!” Her mum scolds.

“Y/N you’re-“ Jim starts.

“Shut up!” Y/N cuts Jim off and I almost feel bad for him. “You don’t deserve to talk. Not to my face, in this house.”

“Well you better get over it,” Eve cuts in. “You’ll be seeing a lot of him since we’re getting married and all. He’ll be around for a while.”

“Lucky for you-no competition-your only other available cousin is underage.”

Y/N’s sister’s jaw drops and the table explodes around us. I figure Y/N had taken it too far but she’s already stomping away before I could reach for her. I leave the noisy table and find her exiting the front door. I grab her jacket and make my way outside.

“Do you still like him?” I ask after I hand her her coat. I don’t know why I ask. But it’s suddenly important for me to know.

“Ew gross, Sugg. I thought you knew me better.” Y/N glares at me.

“I do. I’m just wondering why you’re still upset after all these years. You don’t have feelings for him so-“

“I don’t know!” Y/N turns away from me. “I just hate seeing them together. It just hurts! It reminding me every time I do how I was such an idiot, it reminds me of the shitty time I had in secondary, and how Eve always wins at everything. Even my parents take her side over mine even though they clearly see everything she put me through! Jim dumped me because Eve talked bullshit about me all the time and complained to him constantly. He never minded I was so intense but suddenly he was scared away directly into her arms-“

“So fuck him!” I grab her shoulders.

“I already did!” The words fly out of Y/N’s mouth, and she tries to stay angry but her face cracks and suddenly she’s laughing. “Jesus he lost his v-card in the bedroom above from where he sits. I wonder how Eve feels about that.”

I laugh, relieved that Y/N had run out of her rage.

“Y/N,” I tell her. “You’re not scary or a loser. There’s nothing wrong with your job or you intensity. You’re perfect.”

“Is this where we kiss?” Y/N raises her eyebrow.

“No mistletoe,” I look above us.

She rolls her eyes but I glimpse a smile as she looks down. “Want to walk down to my old school? Where nobody liked me?”

“Yeah,” I button my coat and grab her hand. “I’ll beat up all the fake bullies.”

“You don’t have to hold my hand out here,” she looks down at our clasped hands.

“Keeps us warm,” I kiss her forehead and we’re off. She tells me stories from school and I imagine her here walking these streets as a kid. I finally get the full Y/N story by the time we reach the playground. We pause in front of the front entrance and she gazes up at the building. Suddenly, she turns to me and closes her arms around my shoulders, burying her face into my neck.

“I’m sorry for dragging you all the way out here for this shitshow and wasting your Friday.” She says close to my ear. I ignore the shiver that runs through me and wrap my arms around her waist.

“It was fun,” I tell her. “I liked the look on your cousin’s face when you asked her about your sloppy seconds.”

Y/N giggles into my neck before facing me. She grows serious as she scans my face this closely. “I never actually asked anyone else to be my fake date.”

“Hm.” I let the information sink in. “So you wanted to lure me out here all by myself.”

“Sort of,” a mischevious smile plays on her lips. “You got a history lesson out of it.”

“The only one worth paying attention to,” I say just as she tugs my sleeve and is off running towards the staircase leading into the building. She stops at the side, and stands there with her back against it.

“I never asked anyone to be my fake date because I wanted you by my side,” Y/N watches me intensely as she tells me what I already knew, but her confirmation gives me the only push I needed.

“Well,” I step forward, closing the distance between us and her breath catches as she looks up at me. “It’s good. I wouldn’t have wanted any other fake date to be able to do this.”

I lean down and her eyes are already fluttering close as I press my lips to hers and just like everything about her, it’s intense and passionate and entirely electric.

“Why haven’t we done that sooner,” she asks against my lips when we part but my senses are too jumbled to form a sentence. It didn’t matter we hadn’t done it sooner, I pull her into me to kiss her again, it was perfect the way

[ryqoshay]

How did u think of the username ryqoshay?

The tl;dr version is that I was tired of Ricochet typically being taken in the games I was playing years ago and decided to rework it into something a bit more unique. And she grew into something more.

The full story will be under the cut as my trips down nostalgia lane tend to run long.

Ricochet started off as a character I created for a story I was writing years ago based on games I played as a child. The games were not electronic, rather based around physical toys and the characters and events were made up on the spot by my friend and I.

While our games generally focused on battles and conflict between two established groups, the story I decided to write focused more on the characters of the protagonist group and their interactions. Worth mentioning here that the focus group was a crew of mercenaries as it will come into play later. I realized that the current cast was comprised mainly of front line fighters and wanted to flesh out the team with some back line and support members; medical, recon, intel, etc.

Enter Ricochet. I liked the idea of taking a stereotypical stoic and battle-hardened sniper character and turning it on its head by making a hyperactive, adorable little girl. A character whose slightly warped idea of cute included heavy weaponry and thus treated her gun like a teddy bear, even going so far as bringing it to bed with her.

The name itself had a dual meaning as it referred both to how she was always “bouncing off the walls” and an intentionally ironic reference to a typically undesirable outcome for a sniper. Her given name at the time was Rebecca; Becky is fine, but don’t call her Becca or Reba.

I don’t recall if I addressed her parents in this iteration, but Rico entered the team under the care of Tackleberry. Yes, that Tackleberry; he was my friend’s favorite character from Police Academy, though I believe what I’ve turned him into maintains only the name and obsession with weapons. I already had him as the former legal guardian of another character, so I figured giving him someone new to oversee would be fine.

Then I stopped writing that story. And it remains on indefinite hiatus to this day.

City of Heroes was released and a friend convinced me to join. I was drawing a blank in character development when I stumbled across the Assault Rifle/Devices build and Rico jumped up out of my memories. The name Ricochet was taken so I tacked on -chan to the end as I was quite addicted to anime by this point in my life. This also gave me the excuse to weeb out and insert random Japanese words into her speech patterns as her linage was now half Japanese and half U.S. born Caucasian.

I designed a diminutive, blonde girl sporting high twintails and a dark purple flak jacket  outfit with black accents. Her short backstory described a her as having two heroes for parents and wanting to live up to her family legacy. And as said parents were still around, Tack dropped out of the picture.

I liked Rico so much I started translating her over to other games as well as using her name in my overall online presence, as small as it was then. Ricochet itself was pretty much always taken, so I often had to modify the name in some way, be it by adding -chan or shortening it to Rico or whatever.

Then came the game changer; City of Villains. It came as no surprise that Ricochet was taken, but I was getting tired of using -chan and my other methods, so I decided to create something new. This would be the first time I used Ryqoshay, an intentional misspelling of Ricochet for a character.

Since CoV allowed a short backstory like its predecessor, I knew I had to come up with an in-universe reason for the name change; I also still fancied myself a writer, even though I hadn’t really written much in a while. I figured a villain might do well with a more tragic backstory than a hero, so I offed her parents. The character limit didn’t allow for specifics on the where, when, why and how, but I made sure to mention that she took the first letter of their names - Yuri and Quentin - to rename herself Ryqoshay.

It was at this point, Ryqo also finally received a family name, Bouteillevoix, and with it, a change in linage to half Japanese and half French. I don’t recall the specifics of how I settled on Bouteillevoix iteself, but I do remember liking the dissonance of an outspoken character bearing a name meaning “bottle voice” as if it were to be contained in some way.

For her aestetic design, I swapped out the black for white in her outfit to use the Dark Is Not Evil and Light Is Not Good tropes; dark purple remained, however. This also meant her hair went from blonde to black. And her twintails went from high to low in an attempt to appear a bit more mature, though she maintained her high energy personality.

Also, while not mentioned in her in-game bio, Tack was able to reenter the picture as a Commando, the highest level Summon of Ryqo’s Mastermind power set.

While I wasn’t actively writing stories about her, I was certainly fleshing her out as a character with notes and whatnot. Quentin and Yuri also got some attention as I ended up designing alternate dimension versions of them for me to play. And as the alt-oholic I am in MMORPGs, I also came up with some alternate dimension versions of Ryqo herself; Ryqoshot, a lonewolf gunslinger using the Corrupter’s Assault Rifle power set and Ryqoaraignée, an Arachnos Crab Spider build who was more closely aligned with Arachnos than her other versions.

With all of the alts I was creating, I decided to use the game’s guild mechanics to pass stuff among them. Thus, Ryqo’s Roughnecks was born, named after Rico’s Roughnecks of Starship Troopers fame. Joining members included L4t3ncy_0, a mechanical Mastermind; Recipere, -  Rx for short - a thug Mastermind who kept her crew alive with healing powers; Yozakura, a ninja Stalker serving as Ryqo’s bodyguard and Vivian Sexon, a dual-wielding Brute and villainous translation of a dual-wielding Scrapper from my CoH days.

Not long after, a friend invited me to join a game of D&D. The team needed a door kicker so I brought in Vivian as a brutish barbarian with a split personality, Sanguine, taking control when she raged. My intended two paragraph introduction quickly turned into two pages, which eventually turned into twenty and started translating over other Roughnecks; Ryqo included.

Ryqo dropped her sniper rifles in favor of a more theme appropriate bow and arrow. L4t3ncy_0′s call sign was changed to Nullsiver Luna and she became an artificer who struggled against the world’s tech limits. Recipere, not surprisingly, took on the role of a cleric. Yozakura kept her ninja trappings, but started playing by the Bodyguard Crush trope as I was deep into yuri shipping at that point thanks to the likes of Lucky Star and others.

Even after the game stalled out, I continued to work with the DM to build their world in which all of their games took place. The Roughnecks gained a permanent place in the timeline, extending both before and after Ryqo’s time as their leader, as well as a permanent base of operations, which eventually grows into a full fledged township later at the behest of Ryqo (spoilers should I ever get around to posting these stories.)

My online presence was growing and with it, Ryqo. She became my main when I returned to WoW, a Blood Elf Hunter running around with a giant Devilsaur as a pet; yes, she would think it was cute. (She was changed to Human when I followed by guild to another server that needed more Alliance players.) My Demon Hunter main in Diablo 3 was named Ryqoshay, as a surprise to absolutely none of my friends at the time.

Aion was a strange exception insofar as I wasn’t fond of the Ranger class for my primarily solo playstyle. I still made said ranger and of course named her Ryqoshay, but my main in that game was a Chanter known as Ameliorator, a more fanciful version of MedKit, the character for whom Tack was a legal guardian in the story mentioned above. However, I still played out the Ryqo persona on the forums because I enjoyed it and I’d long forgotten Med/Ame’s personality from that old story.

When Love Live started to take over my life and I found Sukutomo, I went with Ryqoshay as my screen name for reasons I don’t fully recall. I started this tumblr account as a way to post some “Idolsona” stuff where I translated Ryqo into a LL style idol, along with Yoza, Luna and a newer Roughneck, Flash Pyre. And when I started writing my fics, it was easy to use the account I already had here and then keep the name when I went over to AO3.

Hindsight being 20/20, I probably should have chosen Nico as my primary icon, as her appearance is closer to Ryqo’s than Maki’s, even if she wears her twintails high like Rico instead of Ryqo’s low tails. Neither Nico nor Maki have grey eyes as I’ve given Ryqo, so that wouldn’t fit, but none of the LL characters do thus far. That said, Maki prefers purple more than Nico and Ryqo isn’t much a fan of pink, so maybe that played into things? Perhaps someday I will commission one of my favorite artists to draw Ryqo as I envision her and start using her as my avatar, someday… maybe.

Also worth mentioning that NicoMaki has had a heavy influence on how I envision Ryqo and Yoza, and vice versa. Heck I’ve directly translated some NicoMaki doujin into scenes for my D&D story and sprinkled some RyqoYoza stuff into HtHaN. With HtHaM being a more D&D’ish setting, I may very well steal some stuff from my D&D story for it. Perhaps Luna or Vivian might make an appearance? I’ve already referenced Ryqo when Maki remembers hearing stories of an 11 year old girl taking over a mercenary guild. As always, I shall follow where my µ’s muse leads.

In conclusion, while Maki - with Nico very close behind - may hold a position as my favorite fictional character not created by me, Ryqo easily tops that position as my favorite overall; yes, the fact that I created her absolutely factors into this bias. There are reasons I don’t bring her up often - beyond using her as a screen name, posting through her persona on a few forums and the Idolsona thing - not the least of which include a fear of her being labeled a self-insert or Mary Sue or whatever, as I’ve seen some decidedly distasteful reactions to such characters online. But there is also the fact that the bulk of her development has been within a world not designed by me, but by one of my DMs, and I would want to ensure they would be fine with me posting stuff about said world; I’m sure they would be fine, but I haven’t gotten around to asking. Perhaps someday, I might post more about Ryqo. Perhaps writing more of HtHaM will inspire me to take my D&D story off hiatus, dust it off and have a talk with my DM about posting it. In the meantime, I will continue to use her namesake for my online and in-game presence because she is a character I hold very dear.

If you’ve read this far, thank you for joining me in my journey through nostalgia. And I hope this sufficiently addresses Anon’s question.

[eternaldipshit]

alright i’m fuckin PISSED

i just made this blog yesterday to maybe possibly post a homestuck fic i’m working on but now i’m going to use it to scream into the utter fucking gaping void of the homestuck fandom bc none of my friends are actively in it right now and god dammit i am UPSET

fact: i got a lotta feelings for the striders. they are my shit. i adore them. ok? so that’s an established fact now ok good cool moving on 

fact: when game over was released, i quit the homestuck fandom. that shit broke me. even if it wasn’t the “alpha” timeline or w/e it still fucking happened and it upset my delicate fucking sensibilities and hearing carne vale STILL triggers some sort of visceral feeling of panic and straight-up fuckin MISERY in me and i wish i was fucking kidding but i just put it on now to test it and ugh ugh gughgsh

fact: i started rereading homestuck this month from the beginning and reigniting my love for it. game over still fucked me up, but i powered through it and 5 years fuckin late i finished a harrowing emotional rollercoaster that i’d started like 7 years ago and was just... DEEPLY fucking unsatisfied with the ending which is why i started writing aforementioned fic in the first place but that is not relevant rn this is a whole different rant ok

fact: i wrote like 20k words for this fic in the span of like 3 days it was sick as fuck

fact: the epilogues are dumb as fuck and i despise them 

and that’s the meat of it really. fuck the epilogues. 

i haven’t finished them yet, but i just. ugh. UGH. words escape me. partially bc im a shit wordsmith but also bc *SPOILERS* i just got to dirk’s funeral scene and just fuckin. gave the fuck up. 

i never liked the original homestuck ending to begin with, but i never expected that the epilogues would be so fucking... bleak. it’s like reading a shitty fanfic except all the fun is sucked out of it bc technically all the shit you’re reading is canon and that makes it all seem drab and unfunny and just kinda depressing 

especially in the i guess ‘doomed’ timeline where dirk kills himself 

idk if it hit me hard bc of the flippant treatment of suicide or if it’s just bc i love dirk so much as a character but it just hurt in so many different fucking ways

it doesn’t help that the epilogues paint dirk as a straight up fucking sociopath

and i can see why that would make sense, really. his expanding godhood powers played into his pre-existing sociopathic tendencies in the worst way possible but

it’s just

not what i want to imagine from a fucking epilogue

call me soft and an idealist but i like my happy endings god dammit and fuck FUCK FUCK the epilogues. i want to try to finish them but it’s just. fucking difficult. 

i think the suicide was the last straw for me and now that i think about it it’s definitely bc of my own suicidal ideation and this is exactly why i avoided that stupid fucking show about the girl killing herself no matter how many times it was recommended to me bc i consume media to distract myself from my problems not have them blared in my face in neon lights 

i also fucking hate how dirk’s character morphed from a manipulative as hell genius who constantly struggled with his own morality to this kind of puppeteer who is flagrantly detached from his peers and seems to hold no real attachment to any of them it’s just

it’s shitty

and i was so excited for it bc i thought it would grant me more insight into dirk’s and dave’s characters, considering the fic i’m writing is strider-centric and it just completely took the wind out of my sails instead bc this is not what i pictured for dirk at all 

i mean i’m not a fucking idiot. i know he’s an asshole and an ‘ends justify the means’ guy and definitely manipulative and controlling but this is also the guy that cut off his own head to save all of his friends and tried his best to comfort dave when he was having a breakdown despite his own supposed lack of empathy

and i want so badly to continue my fic like i never read this but i can’t ignore it bc it’s fucking CANON. and i know my biffle would be like ‘fuck canon’ but i can’t fuck canon ok it’s the reason these characters exist in the first place. i might rewrite the whole ending but i wanted to stay as true to canon characterization as poss and now i just. can’t. 

the real kicker is that i was willing to look past the reveal that he was the narrator the whole time, controlling the lives of all the characters even if it literally gave me goosebumps bc it put that whole ‘jake keeps thinking about dirk while jane kisses him’ thing into a new disturbingly unromantic light but i ignored that too. i switched to the other path for a bit and i knew from the minute it switched to the scene where dirk’s hands are shaking and he calls jane i KNEW he would kill himself but i convinced myself otherwise and surprise surprise got my ass handed to me on a silver platter for it

but i cannot i CANNOT believe he would do that to dave. i flat-out refuse. i flat-out fucking refuse to believe that dirk could be so cruel as to leave them all behind in such a crass fashion and how DARE he do that to dave how fucking dare he doomed timeline or not that dude’s been through enough shit like come the fuck ON and decapitating himself??? that’s not poetic fucking justice that is just straight up cruel af and i know these are all fictional chars and this whole scenario is fictional but it is SO UPSETTING TO ME bc that is the EXACT thing you think about before a suicide attempt you think about what it would do to your loved ones and i absolutely irrefutably fucking REJECT the idea that dirk is so far-gone in his godhood puppet game that it wouldn’t even cross his fucking mind and it is just so much worse to me that dave is the one who found the body and i know dirk isn’t a ‘good’ guy but ugh UGH it’s like they just threw out his whole fucking conversation with dave where it’s obvious that he tries to be a better person even tho he knows he’s an asshole and it’s just.

fucking upsetting. 

i hate hate hate what they’ve done to dirk’s character in this it’s like they took all the struggle and all the growth from the adventure and all the nuances and just boiled it down to make a caricature of the person he used to be, emphasizing the negatives so that the epilogues could have this weird fucking quasi-villain dictating everyone’s lives 

why do these epilogues even exist

no one is going to read this but i am just so full of righteous indignation that i needed to get it off my chest. i was so hyped to be back into homestuck again, so excited to see what more it had to offer and this just. ruined all that joy for me. and now i’m afraid i’m just going to fall right back out of it again. 

what the fuck is the opposite of a redemption arc bc that is exactly what the fuck happened here. 

anyway tl;dr i love returning to a fandom i haven’t touched in 5 years and finding out one of my fav chars just got narratively butchered yeah i’m fine it’s cool 

[primusparry]

Peyton gets a booboo

Peyton: [Absolutely nothing, not one thing had changed after that kiss, which meant, all thoughts and fantasies that my lips were somehow magical and would convince Paradise that she was madly, deeply in love with me, were just that. A solo show starring me, myself and Rosy Palm, raw from all the… yeah. We'd returned to the training facility the next night, easy banter among the soldiers and brothers as we paired off for rotation, nothing out of the ordinary. Which of course, disappointed the most moronic part of me that would always pine for a relationship that would never be. Paradise had locked me into the friend zone years ago and thrown away the key. Someday, I hoped, I'd come to terms with that. But tonight was not that night. Had she glanced my way a few times more than usual? And her cheeks were flushed from the cold night air when I first caught sight of her. Nothing more. But damn if a few seconds of swapping spit hadn't scrambled my brain worse than any herbal paranoia ever could. My mental self beat down took me deep into the urban arteries of Caldwell, barely a word passing between myself and Blay as we headed into the night. We knew the grid we were covering well, the where's and when's we were supposed to cross paths and check in. I was thankful for the familiar terrain tonight, because Scribe knew I probably couldn't handle anything more than a trainee level workload.]

Parry:

*I’ve been worried that that kiss would make things awkward between Pey and I, and I’m afraid that I was right. Everyone was chatting and joking around as usual as we meet up at the training center to pair off for rotation the night after the party at my house- but Pey and I barely spoke to each other at all before we headed out. I try not to overthink things as Xcor and I patrol our territory. I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about that kiss, but I know that I already miss the easy camaraderie between my best friend and I. It took us so long to get it back after the fights when we first joined the program, and now it’s gone again just like that. Shoving such thoughts onto my brain’s back burner, I mentally berate myself. Get your head in the game, girl! Going into the field distracted is an excellent way to get yourself seriously hurt- or worse.

I wave at Novo as we cross paths with her and Phury, same thing again a few minutes later with Craeg and Balthazar. After teaming up with the latter pair to take down a group of lessers, we parted ways again, both teams searching for their next targets.

Peyton: [It wasn't long before the squawk of action came over our ear-comms, my shit kickers stalling when I heard that Parry was in the frey. Even as my eyes continued to scan, I listened intently, not inhaling again until I heard the barked, "all clear." Sound in my ear. Relief washed the tension from my shoulders just as I rounded a corner… and came face to face with half a dozen lessers I hadn't scented because they were down wind. Fuck! Drawing my weapons as I gave a sharp whistle for Blay who had split off in the opposite direction a few meters back, I got a few rounds popped off, watched two of the six drop, at least momentarily, before another three took me to the ground. Guns useless at this aimless range, I grabbed for the knives sheathed at my side. Slashing with strategic strokes, I flinched briefly from the blinding light of sending one fucker back to the Omega, only to cry out through gritted teeth as the other gripping my wrist and forced my own hand down, knife point glinting as this powder stenched fucker pushed my own fucking knife into my thigh as the third found my other arm back, blocking my own defense. How the fuck was I going down like this?

In the next blink, the weight of the one on my chest was gone as the one stabbing me with my own weapon was blown backwards. Ignoring the searing pain in my thigh, I knew it was Blay at the top of the alley as I leveled myself onto one elbow, lifted my sig and downed another couple of albino assholes. Struggling to my feet, I kept watch as Blay surged up the alley and made quick work of sending each of the half holey, wriggling dick weeds back to their maker. Chest heaving as the last pop dissipated, I looked down, hand braced on the brick wall beside me I swayed on my feet.] I think he nicked my femmy femoral… [and that was all I could muster before the lights went out.]

Parry:

*I'd just stopped a human man from harassing a woman behind a club when Blay’s voice hit my ear through the comms. Peyton is badly hurt after a run in with a squad of lessers, and Blay is getting him to the mobile medical unit. I freeze, scared and worried for my friend. But then I am suddenly also furious. Blame it on all the introspection during the previous day, but all I can think about is all the crap Pey spewed when we were joining the program, about the possibility of me getting hurt. Well, looks like you’re not so invincible yourself, are you, you bastard?!

I resist the urge to head over to the mobile unit immediately to check on him, because I don’t want to get in the doc’s way while he’s being treated. I’m also more than slightly tempted to kick his ass myself right now, and that obviously wouldn’t help anything at all. Struggling not to bare my fangs, I take off running in search of another fight, ignoring Xcor calling my name behind me. I hear his footsteps like louder and heavier echoes of my own as he follows me, cursing. Then I see three lessers down an alley. I grin as I pull my daggers out, thinking ‘perfect….’*

Peyton: [I blinked in and out of consciousness for I don't know how long. First it was Manny, looking like an archangel from the Fade, leaning over me to block out the blinking fluorescents. The bumps that jostled my body, shooting pain to places I didn't know could hurt, told me I was in the mobile medical unit. Yippee! A delirious laugh answered whatever question he was asking me, and I knew either the good shit was getting pumped into my veins, or I was close to the end. I really hoped it was the first.] Par… Parry. [The roll of his eyes told me that I wasn't close to a right answer, then his face was gone and I faded again. The next time I woke it was to a much smoother ride, the gurney, taking me to the clinic was my best bet. Warm and fuzzies filling my heavy head, I closed my eyes again. At least if I was going unto the Fade it would be from a place where I matter. Where my people would know, and at least a few might give a shit that I was gone. My father would only be disappointed that I hadn't OD'ed in my bedroom like he'd always predicted.]

Parry:

*I just finish stabbing the last lesser back to the Omega when I’m suddenly grabbed from behind. I’m about to retaliate when I realize that it isn’t the enemy who has me in his grip, it’s Xcor. He spins me around and slams me against the brick wall and gets all up in my face, absolutely furious. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” He demands. “Do you _want_ to get yourself killed? Cause if so, too damn bad. It won’t be happening on my watch, female. You want to fight, beat the shit out of something? Fine. We’ll go back to the training center and I’ll spar with you in the gym as much as you want. Otherwise, I’m going to tell Tohr to take you off rotation until you can keep your head together. These are your only two options, because you really can’t be in the field right now.” I open my mouth to retort angrily- but then I realize that he’s 100 percent right. Hell, wasn’t I literally just thinking how dangerous distraction can be? Wrestling my temper under control, I nod.* Ok then. Let’s hit the gym. *Xcor nods, and hits the comms to let everyone know we were leaving the field. Then I close my eyes, and it takes a moment but I’m able to scatter my molecules and demat back to the training center. Xcor appears right beside me, and the two of us head inside and down the hall to the gym. We take off our jackets and all our various weapons and lay them on a bench before walking out onto the mats. Xcor sinks down into a defensive posture, and the look on his face is calm and patient as he waits to see what I’m going to do next. I go after him, holding nothing back. We fight until I’m limping- thanks to a good roundhouse kick on his part to swipe my legs out from under me- and pouring sweat as I walk over to grab a towel and sit on the benches for a breather. Wiping my face as I accept a bottle of water from him, I look up at him as he stands towering above me. “Go on.” He says, nodding at the doors with a slight smile. “Go take a shower and then check on your… friend. The medics have to have him settled in at the clinic by now, and you’ll feel better once you see for yourself how he’s doing.” I note the slight pause before the word ‘friend,’ as if he’d been wanting to say something else instead. Something like “your male.” Not that Peyton is mine or ever likely to be, but we’re best friends and everyone here knows it. Why wouldn’t I be worried about him at such a time? Rather than comment on or try to correct Xcor’s assumption, I simply nod and thank him for his help, and get up to head over to the female’s locker room. Quick shower and towel off, and I pull some clean clothes on and pull my hair back in a braid before going over to the clinic. Finding the room Peyton’s been placed in, I walk right in. He’s sleeping- or appears to be- and there’s no visible injuries or bandages. However and wherever he’s hurt, it’s somewhere under the blankets, not on his face or arms. I pull a chair over to the bedside and take my best friend’s hand, getting comfy and settling in to wait for him to wake up.

Peyton: [I knew Dr. Manny had poked and prodded for a while. I vaguely recall mumbling some semblance of answers to questions I thought they were asking. There was something about feeding, when I last had, or that I would need to, something. Then, I guess they figured maybe it wasn’t Fade time for me, because he left me alone to enjoy my morphine induced sleep. It was a very familiar scent that roused me from that sleep. One that I knew as well as my own as it plagued my dreams and my nightmares equally.

Paradise.

My pulse kicked into high gear, the little blood I had left in my body pumping through my veins. Her soft, warm, not at all warrior callused hand on mine, had my lashes fluttering, trying to open, the best I could manage was a crack as my lids felt like there were anvils sitting on top of them. My wrist worked though, and I turned it, so that I could lace my fingers with hers, a gravelly barely perceptible laugh scratching up my throat when I spied the worry lines creasing her otherwise perfect brow. If I was any higher, I might think an angel had come to take me to heaven. But no, that was human religion. I was a vampire and so was she.] Careful. You keep scowling at me like that and your face might get stuck like that.

Parry:

*Well, that figures. Even badly injured, barely conscious, and no doubt high as a kite from the pain meds and such, Peyton just can’t help being a smartass. I roll my eyes and give a distinctly unladylike snort, even as I give his hand a gentle squeeze* Oh, please. If that hasn’t happened by now after dealing with you for years, it never will! *Then I drop the attempt at levity and get very serious as I look into his barely open eyes.* So, what the hell even happened out there tonight? Blay said something about you running straight into a big squad of lessers. Sweet Scribe, Pey, what in the world were you thinking?!

Peyton: [Her anger had my scowl mirroring hers. I was confused and immediately defensive with her coming at me. As if I needed more reassurance that the random kiss meant absolutely nothing to her. Pain pulsed from my heart to my newly resown leg and I wished in that moment that the lessers had done a better job. Sucking in a deep breath through my nose, I winced as the expansion of my chest sent another spike of agony through my battered body.] Yes, we ran into them. As in, turned a corner and they were there. And I was thinking, "Hey, the enemy...guess I should do my job and kill these fuckers before they go after an innocent civilian, or better yet, my partner." [Turning drug heavy eyes up to hers, I arched a brow,pulling my hand from her grip.] If you've sufficiently laid into me, I'd like to get back to sleep. I was having a great dream. You didn't treat me like shit and let me put my dick in your mouth. [Pressing my lips together, I turned my head to face the wall. It was a shit thing to say, but my pain level, inside and out had my filter torn to shreds. I was sure she'd have more to say as I wish Manny would come back in with another shot of morphine.]

Parry:

*My temper fires up again at his deliberately crude words, insult and shock slamming through me* Unbelievable! I didn’t come here to be insulted, Pey. I came to check on my friend, even though I’m seriously pissed off and would really like to take a swing at you myself right now. After all, you were so worried about me getting hurt if I joined the program, but which one of us ended up here in the clinic tonight? You did. And I got so distracted when the news came over the comms that Xcor had to pull me off the streets, and that’s after I spent way too much time overday thinking about that damn kiss…. *I break off my rant, realizing that I’ve let loose and said entirely too much. I fight not to blush as I pull myself together and stand up.* I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. Maybe I should just go…

Peyton: [The spike of ire was too intense to ignore. It fed the injured, predator inside of me. Jaw clenched, my chest ached in time with the pulse of pain in my thigh, which only proved to wear away at my filter further.] For fucks sake, Paradise, I get that you regret the damn kiss. Kick me while I'm down why don't you? So what I ended up in the clinic? Every one of us does at some point. What? Disappointed that I'm going to pull through? Sorry to disappoint, because if you coming in here and laying into me the minute I open my eyes is your idea of checking up on me, thanks but no thanks. [I hadn't realized I was yelling until a very loud knock at the door had me shutting my mouth. Glaring at the interruption, my features softened when I saw Dr. Manny followed by the chosen Amalya. Cursing under my breath, I studiously ignored Parry, trying my best to look apologetic.] My apologies, Chosen. Doctor. Please, come in. [Casting a scathing glare at her, I sneered as she got to her feet.] Last chance to take a swing, Parry. I'll be good as new in no time.

Parry:

*I’m about to snap back at him when a knock sounds at the door, and Doc Manny walks in with a gorgeous female- and not just any female, a Chosen. The directrix herself, if I’m not mistaken. And of course, she’s got to be here to feed Peyton. Their presence helps me rein in my temper once more, though I feel an unexpected and unsettling twinge in my chest at the thought of Peyton taking Amalya’s vein. I decide it would probably be best to use their entrance to excuse my leaving. After greeting the new arrivals, I turn back to Peyton.* I’ve already apologized for losing my temper, but will do so again if it’ll make you feel better. I truly didn’t mean to snap at you, and I really am sorry for it. As for regrets, I don’t recall saying that I had any. Because I don’t, unless the… event in question ends up messing up our friendship and causing problems between us. I might come back after nightfall to check on you again, once we’ve had a chance to cool down, but right now I’ll just go and leave you to your feeding. I’ll see you later. *after bowing to the Chosen again and nodding to Manny, I walk out of the room and demat home to my father’s mansion, my emotions even more tangled than before.*

Peyton: [The scowl that furrowed my brow as she said her piece and left telegraphed my confusion. She...didn't regret…? What in Dhund did that mean? Because if she felt anything besides friendship or hatred towards me, basically the two emotions that ran hand and hand in mine and Paradise's relationship, she had a pretty messed up way of showing it. And why after all this time…? Shaking myself from my thoughts as a knot of guilt formed in my belly, I tried to focus on the check up questions Manny was asking me.] Uh, yeah, whatever you gave me is holding up. My leg feels like a ton of bricks, but besides that just twinges of pain. [I tried for a gentle smile that barely curled my lips as I addressed the Chosen, keeping my eyes downcast out of respect for her position.] Thank you for your service. I am not worthy of the gift of your life blood. [She nodded in acknowledgment and offered her wrist. On any other occasion, I'd be jazzed to be feeding from such a lovely being and the buzz her blood could give, but tonight as my fangs sank deep, my eyes were locked on the darkness of the hall outside of the small window in the door of my hospital room, yearning for a glimpse of Paradise.]

#SASBDB

[psychokai1972]

The Boss- Part 15

The Boss- Masterlist

Part 14

CEO!Sebastian Stan x CEO!Reader

Word Count: 1952

Warnings: some language, cheesy, fluff

Summary: Y/N and Sebastian are co-CEOs of a successful company. Their relationship is not the best. It’s more a competition than anything. But eventually they’ll have to learn to cope with each other.

A/N: I didn’t proof read it, so sorry if there are any mistakes.

“ And that’s your daddy.” She turned the camera to him, he was walking around the kitchen, looking for his car keys.

Sebastian smirked. “Actually, I’m your dad. Your mother is the one that calls me daddy.” He winked at the camera. “Where have I left them?”He mumbled under his breath and started opening the drawers.

“Seb!” She protested looking at him with an amused glare and her lips parted. “ To be fair, it was once and totally justified because you had a beard and longer hair and you are seven years older than me.” Y/N switched to the front camera. “And we were trying new things!” She continued.

The romanian chuckled and walked down to her giving her a peck on the lips. “I didn’t say it was something bad.” He lifted his eyebrows sultrily. “By the way James, see this blue sweater,” he gently gripped the material from her shoulder, “this is mine, your mother has been stealing my clothes.”

“You jackass.” She laughed. “Sharing is caring!”

The Romanian lifted one eyebrow at her. “Oh yeah,what do you share with me?” His hands resting on his hip waiting for an answer.

The CEO closed one eye and shrugged her nose thinking. “Mhm, this house? The bed!” She said, her eyes going wide and her finger pointing at the direction where the stairs were.

“And even when you do so you kick me at night.” He said matter of factly.

Y/N turned her head to him quickly. “Shut up,you dork.”

“Aw, so much love and affection between your parents.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind and rested his head on her shoulder. “But, seriously. She takes my clothes because of you, can’t wait to the day you are born and I have my things back to myself.” The blue eyed man joked.

Y/N shook her head while biting her lower lip. “Actually,” she started looking blankly ahead of her and counting the months, “there is not so much time left before he’s here, just three more months.” She said the last words turning  her head briefly at him and widening her eyes. An action he copied when reality hit him.

“Oh god, you are right. You’re due in March, right?” He asked and she nodded. “And the nursery is not even done yet!” Sebastian got away from her, his eyes landing on the car keys resting on the fridge. “Why did I even put them here?” He asked to himself trying to remember the motive of the placing.

“Seb,you are a mess. Sooo,your father is going to pick his friend Chris at the airport. He said you’ll be calling him your uncle, which he’s not, but we are only children in our families so this is the closes you’ll ever have to an uncle. This is the filming for today, you’ll be hearing more of us in a couple of days.Bye baby.” She cheered.

Sebastian stood behind her waving. ���Bye James, I’m really seeing forward for the day you see this videos your mother is making and get all red and ashamed.” 

“Sebastian!” Y/N’s voice could be heard at the background as he laughed guiltily.She turned off the camera and left the phone on the isle. “You’re such a dork.” She rolled her eyes but wrapped her arms around his neck nonetheless. 

“Mhm, I know.” He said looking down at her with a smirk. “Gotta go, see you soon,okay?” She nodded and connected her lips with his in a sweet kiss.

“Now go.” She slapped his ass gently.

Sebastian chuckled and gave her one last peck on the lips. “If you need anything, you call me, alright?” 

She sighed. “Yes, yes, I will. As always.” Sebastian kissed her belly and left for the airport.

________________________________________________________

Sebastian turned the engine on and felt his friend’s eyes on him.

“So,” Chris started saying, making the romanian look briefly at him in awaiting. “ much has happened in your life since the last time I saw you.” The man said with a smirk on his features. “Engaged and soon to be dad! That’s something.” He chuckled brushing his beard. “Never thought I would see you settling down,man.” His head shaking in remembering of both his and his friend’s numerous one night stands. “You must really love her.”

Sebastian shrugged his shoulders with a smile crossing his lips. “It feels right, I’m happier than I’ve ever been, Chris.” Chris could see his eyes shining in a way he had never seen before. “And yeah, I do love her and that little kicker; I would do anything for them.”

Chris looked at the ceiling remembering something. “You know, there’s this question you should ask yourself to know if she’s the one: can you live without her? If the answer is yes, don’t hold onto it; if it’s no, then don’t let go of her. So,can you live without Y/N,Seb?”

The Romanian narrowed his eyes briefly, the thought that he had heard that somewhere else crossed his mind. “Isn’t...” he pinched his lower lip with his thumb and index finger, “ isn’t that from ‘End Of Watch’?” He asked laughing.

Chris rolled his eyes. “That’s not the point,just answer the question!”He chuckled.

Silence fell upon them until Sebastian’s voice was listened. “I-I can’t.” His answer short but clear.

Chris smiled and rested his hand on his shoulder squeezing it lightly. “Then don’t fuck this up buddy.”

“Yeah.” Sebastian whispered almost to himself.

Being his phone connected to the car via bluetooth, the incoming call could be heard throughout the whole car. Sebastian looked at the screen seeing Y/N’s name on it, he smiled unconsciously. It didn’t pass unnoticed by his friend. The CEO quickly pressed the little answer button that was placed on the wheel and her angelic voice filled his ears.

“Hey baby, picked up Chris?”

Sebastian nodded his head at the same time as he spoke. “Yes, everything’s fine?” He asked, certain worry that something bad happened for her to call overtook him.

But it soon faded away as she talked. “ Oh yeah, just James kicking the shit out of me,but what’s new?” He could feel her grinning. Both men laughed at her words. “Anyway, I called to ask if you could pass by the store and get me some vanilla milkshakes,blueberries and like 5 boxes of cheesecake?” She batted her eyelashes even though he could not see her.

Sebastian smirked. “You got it, draga.”

“Alright,thank you; see you in a bit.” She sang.

“See you.” He replayed before She hung up.

Chris lifted one eyebrow at him. “Why so many cheesecakes?Are you having a party or something?”

Sebastian laughed deeply and shook his head. “No,no; that’s for her.”

“All of it?” He asked.

“All of it.”

Chris once more rubbed his beard. “And just out of curiosity, how long do those five cheesecakes last?”

“Mhm, something like two or three days; it depends.” Sebastian responded gesturing with his right hand.

Chris widened his eyes. “Dude, you should take her to a pie eating contest,I’m sure she’d win.”

“I’m pretty convinced that any pregnant woman would win.” Sebastian chuckled.

________________________________________________________

“We’re here!” The romanian announced as he closed the door behind them, his voice loud so she could hear him. He gestured Chris to leave his suitcase on the entrance and they walked further in into their home.

At the hearing of his voice, Y/N rushed to put something on, opting for a pair of tight grey sweatpants and one of Sebastian’s black hoodies. She gripped the material just above her chest and lifted it to her nose, her eyes closing briefly as the smell of him overtook her. Even thought she had him with her everyday, it made her smile. 

“Are you home?” She heard him ask when there was no answer coming from her.

Y/N opened the door to the bedroom  and walked down the stairs. “Coming.” She said reaching the bottom and heading for the kitchen, knowing that probably that was the first place where they would go. And she wasn't wrong, the two men were standing in the kitchen remembering old times, each one with a beer on their hands. “ You guys having fun?” She asked resting her body on the door’s frame and tucking one of the loosened wet strands of hair behind her ear.

Both men where too caught up in their conversation to notice that she was there before she spoke. Chris turned to face her and Sebastian smiled at her. “Haven’t seen you in so long Chris, how are you?” She asked kindly,legs making their way to him and hugging him.

“ Company, company, company. You know, same old.” He grinned taking in sight her large belly. “ How are you holding up?” He asked pointing at her bump with his beer.

“Same with us.” She said nodding her head and  moved to Sebastian. “Hi baby.” She kissed him briefly on the lips. “Oh, apart from having this little one kick me almost all the time; difficulty doing certain things, such as sometimes get up from bed; cravings; and sometimes cramps; everything’s fine.” Y/N chuckled feeling Sebastian rub her lower back gently. 

“Nice thing you have this one right here to help you get out of bed.” Chris said.

Y/N laughed shaking her head and getting away from Sebastian to look into the big paper bag placed on the counter. “ Help me get out of bed?” She asked ironically. “ Most of the times he just pulls me back in and keeps me there. He’s such a cuddler.” 

“Oh my god.” They heard the romanian say under his breath. Y/N looked overt to him and saw his cheeks achieving a red color. 

“It’s that so?” Chris asked with a shit eating grin on his features.

Y/N pulled out one of the cheesecakes and three forks, in case someone else more than her wanted some and left them on the isle. “ It is, he’s so warm.” She chuckled shoving some into her mouth.

“ Like a teddy bear.” Chris commented seeing how red Sebastian’s face was getting. Y/N just hummed in response, agreeing with him. 

The romanina rolled his ocean like eyes. “ Decided, I’m gonna murder you both tonight.” He said as serious as possible.

The mother of his child moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around him from the side. “Aww, baby, we’re just joking. Although, you wouldn't do such thing, you know why?”

Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose before answering and looked down at her. “Why?” He was already regretting having asked.

“Because tonight you’ll most probably be in bed cuddling me.” She kissed his cheek quickly and got away from him hearing Chris laugh.

“Oh, fuck you both, seriously.” Even though he attempted to look mad, a smile crept on his face as the words fell from his lips.

________________________________________________________

The tip of his fingers caressed her shoulder as he watched her submerged in a deep sleep. Y/N was hugging his body close to hers, her head resting on his chest, his torso serving as a pregnancy pillow and their legs tangled. She had went to bed before him and Chris, her eyes couldn't bare staying open anymore and her body had been too tired out to keep on functioning. He could occasionally feel James moving in her bump, the little baby sometimes pressing on the part of the belly that was against his body. An unconscious smile crossed his lips every time it happened.

“I don’t think you know this, but I love you.” Sebastian whispered into the night, trying not to wake her up and pressed a chaste kiss on her head. “ I never thought this would turn out like this, but I’m glad it did.” The blue eyed man took a deep breath, the words Chris said earlier in the day resounding in his mind. “ I’ll try not to fuck up, Y/N. I don’t want to lose you again, draga; neither one of you.”

Part 16

MASTERLIST

Taglist is open (the crossed tags don’t work):

@jacquelineisawkward @starkxpotts @crazybutconfidentaf @imagine-inc @sebbystanlover-vk @moonlightbae14 @projectxhappiness @sayernita    @flopmalum @a-kiddo-with-a-doggo @lucille-lovely  @missrandomista @thewhinersoldier @justmesadgirl @marie-is-in-the-dark @learisa @myfuturisticallysteadycollector @slender--spirit @fandom-addict-aesthetics @sellulii @lowkeysebby @p3nny4urth0ught5 @nanna02 @ssweet-empowerment @faakelanadelrey @cheekygeek05 @deanlenaz @inlovewith3 @kapolisradomthoughts @cuddlysteven @bearsbeetsbarnes @harryisbae101 @coffeebooksandfandom @casually-introverted  @ria132love @mizz-kraziii @sgfghemmo96 

[crow-songs]

What No One Tells you....

…..about losing weight and getting Healthy.

Alright, so one of my rare ranting moments, what you’re not warned about when you start getting healthy or losing weight for your own health.

1. Buying Clothing for yourself, is a pain in the ass!

~If you live on your own, pay your own bills, pay for your own groceries etc…You also know the pain of buying clothing. Now, for me, I get to see both sides of the scale. I get to see my Partner, who happens to be much smaller (weight-wise) than I am, and then you have my big fluffy ass. Where my partner can get a cheap tank if they need, I have to spend almost $20 to get one that actually fits me without riding up the belly or being defeated by the BOOBS of DOOM! Even my partner has commented on how drastic the price differences are for clothing. Now imagine, you are losing weight, no longer do you fit the ‘fat girl’ clothing well without looking like a 50 year old stereotype aged soccer mom, and I am too big to fit into what is considered regular clothing. (And I will be ranting about that later because ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?) So you either have to cough up the big bucks for clothing that you know you’ll not be able to wear in a few months and will be trying to donate to a place that will actually give clothing to people in need, or you end up looking like that 50 year old person who doesn’t care about being 'fashion forward’. Now this second style most would say “But hey, at least you’re comfy!”. Like, yea, that would be awesome! I get to lose weight and be super comfy, yay! But NO! That is not the case. Half the day you’re pulling your pants up afraid that you’re going to moon someone because there are 'no’ pants that fit you right after that first single time! you’re shirts are so baggy that they get caught on doorknobs, tangled in the fat on your arms, or boobs and at worst, get tangled in that said boob when all three things happen all at once when you are carrying all those groceries on the bus because cars are expensive dammit, and suddenly your shirt is pulled down so far that this 'comfy’ piece of clothing is exposing you. But the worst part, is how it makes you feel. I mean, I am trying to get healthy, and finally be comfortable in my skin, not because of media, but because being fat is exhausting thank you. Those loose pieces of clothes that you have to pay an arm and a leg for, make you feel…well…awkward. More so that you already feel. I hate it. I’m trying to lose weight for my health and self esteem (Don’t get me wrong, I am damn fabulous and I know it) but I want to look down and see my damn toes. The price and self image that the clothing brings, does not help.

2. People are MEAN when you’re trying to get healthy!

~Holly crackers are being just mean! I cannot tell you how many times I have been shamed for what I am trying to do! But here’s the kicker, it ain’t the skinny ones being this mean, it’s girls (not many guys care or ask questions about it) that are my size or larger. Now, here’s a story of when I first started losing weight.

(Little background here, I use to be a cashier at a USA Chain store and I was good at my job, this is a conversation between me an a woman who was the same size as me)

————–

Me: “Hi! Thanks for shopping with us did you find everything today?” *Starts scanning her items and bagging*

Customer: “I did thank you.”

Me: “So, how’s your day been today?” (Now for this, I always use my genuine voice because you know what, everyone needs someone to just talk too)

Customer: “It’s ok…..Wait, I’ve seen you here before, you look different.”

Me: *All happy proud that someone other than my epic Partner sees my hard work* “Yeah! I’ve lost about 55lbs in about 3 months! I’ve been trying to get healthier!”

Customer: “Oh that’s good. What diet are you on, or did you…..”*pauses to lean in and whisper*“Did you get that surgery thing. I’ve been thinking about that too so no need to be ashamed.”*insert sly smile*

Me:*Stands there blinking a moment before giving that awkward laugh you give when you just don’t know what to say* “Ah, actually no diet per say, and I am waaay to poor for surgery of any kind. No, I actually cut out dairy finally since I’m actually allergic to it, and cut gluten out of my diet because my partner is highly allergic and I figured why not do so in solidarity. I love my meats so you know not too brutal. And I’ve been doing some basic exercises like walking and little 5lb weights that we sell here. It’s been amazing and I actually feel like I can do things without falling over dead!”

**mind you, I am stilllll scanning the overflowing cart of stuff this woman has and she is not unloading it at all, so I am having to hop lean over my counter to reach her items**

Customer: *Pauses with this surprised look before her lip literally curls and she gives me the most disgusted look ever* You know how unhealthy it is to starve yourself!

Me: *actually goes still to being confused* What?

Customer: I mean you should have better self esteem in how you look and love your body no matter what people tell you! Starving yourself is not the answer! *starts to go on rant about media and about how I’m some dumb child falling for this and how I probably cut and how I’m not 'that’ over weight and make up can fix my face.*

Me:*stares at this now labeled crazy bitch getting annoyed* Ma'am…I’m 23…I am doing this for my health, I can still down a whole chicken by myself if I wanted, but I am trying to portion my food. *Holds out receipt as she swiped her card while ranting loud enough that all cashiers are now staring* Have a good day.

———-

I mean are you kidding me!? I have bee actively shamed more since I have been working to try and get healthy more than once! One woman had the guts to tell me that losing weight is for whores and I was just going to be a target for rape if I did this. I have been called stupid, worthless and informed how ugly I am. WHAT THE SEVEN HELLS IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE!!!????

By the way, that conversation actually took place almost over a year before the gluten free diets started to gain some fame/attention.

3. The Assumption that Working out is dangerous/I don’t know what working out is.

~I cannot count the amount of times I have been lectured and talked down too when I mention that I need to work out more or am trying to work out. People people people…I am not stupid. Yes I know how to lift weights, yes I loooove punching bags, yes I know how to run and yes I know how to swim and do sit ups. The surprise you get from people is insane. What people assume is that you have never been active your entire life, and you eat like a damn pig. No, that isn’t always the reason someone is over weight. When i was a kid, I was active, I played softball, I was into multiple forms of martial arts including MMA (thanks to my dad), running, climbing etc. I was like this till about 13-14 years old. That is when depression, stress, loneliness and lack of support entered my life. That and my genetics and a knee surgery I had when I was 16-17, yeah I got damn fat! But I’m not stupid! My Gods!

4. Depression is the biggest Bitch ever.

~I won’t lie, my biggest demon, is depression. even when losing weight, when you have sooo many telling you how horrible you are for trying to lose weight or for doing it, even that one person (for me my partner) who is supporting you…..sometimes it isn’t enough. You watch your body change, going down and then ballooning back up and then back down and put that on repeat. It’s hard. When you have a 40 hrs + job, the world around you is literally falling apart, knowing that going outside can get you killed and worse, when you look at your bills and you feel like there is no end, when you look at your life and you know, you know this is not what you wanted to do with it, or what you are capable of doing…..damn it gets hard. It’s hard to keep that motivation to be healthy. Real Healthy I mean. For years I convinced myself that 'my’ method was the best, that how I was eating would do my body well. I was never told that fat girls could have an eating disorder. And than I realized what I was doing. I was doing a different kind of binge and purge. I would take 1 week and just massively over eat, to the point that I would vomit on my own without any finger, and then for 2 weeks, I just wouldn’t eat anything. I would drink water or for a while, soda….maybe have a bag of chips….but nothing else. For 2 damn weeks. I never felt faint, dizzy, dazed. I only felt tired, still massively depressed and my weight would bounce that a stupid bouncy ball in a locked room. Later, through my own studying as during the years of going to a doctor (And more than once ulcer later)  I had always been told I was surprisingly healthy and active for my age (I CALL BULLSHIT), I realized the reason I didn’t feel this, was because my body was eating itself and I’ve got/had the stores to eat where these sessions while unhealthy, wouldn’t trigger my brain. People assume that working out, getting healthy and changing your lifestyle, changes that. But to be honest, YOU CAN BE DOING IT ALL RIGHT AND STILL BE DEPRESSED! I feel the need to shout that from the roof tops sometimes! Even if you have the best support system, sometimes, you still feel very much alone in your situation. And there is no reason you or anyone should be feeling guilty about this.

Alright, there is my rant, I could likely add more, but in this moment, I don’t want too. For any who read, thank you for reading, and know, You CAN do this. What is healthy for one person, doesn’t mean it’s healthy for you (This is coming from the person that is actually allergic to the entire mustard family when it comes to greens) and above all, you’re worth getting healthy, physically and mentally. You can want to lose weight, all while loving yourself.

Here are two links for people going through this in my opinion that might help:

https://www.torrid.com/homepage   ~~A great place for clothing that frequently has some damn good sales and does focus on how it fits your body.

https://www.udemy.com/     ~~This might we odd, but classes help. Whether it’s in art for self therapy or self expression, or nutrition classes. They do have sales (Their current black Friday/Cyber Monday sale of epicness)

Alright everyone, have a wonderful, and a life that you can be proud of.

[groundramon]

I don’t really know how to word this without immediately knowing that tumblr could accuse me of a fuckton of different buzzwords, but I’m going to try to anyways - and hopefully if any hyper-woke people find me, they’ll tell me how I should better word myself in the future instead of immediately calling me an abuse apologist or some shit.

But anyways, here’s a hot take - people of minority groups can be abusers.  Sometimes, they can abuse people for their minority status.  Sometimes, people lie about sexual assault.  Sometimes, people use their mental health or identity or race or whatever as an excuse for being a despicable human being.  How do I know?  Because I’ve had it happen to me, over and over and over.

I am: a trans, LGBT+, mentally disabled + ill, DFAB person.  I am also: a white, able-bodied fuckboy who lives in California, one of the most progressive states in the country, even in its conservative areas.  I am on both sides of the spectrum, and the times when I see minority statuses being abused are usually from the groups that I’m a minority of.

For example, I was harassed (and arguably sexually abused, however because I couldn’t find those comments that could’ve made him face legal consequences for all he’s done, I struggle to say that this is the case - additionally, I was never his target, just my art) by an autistic man online when I was younger.  It’s the reason why I can’t interact with the HT/TY/D fandom and why I won’t be seeing the third movie (keep in mind this happened right before the second movie, and I went to see that one because it legitimately interested me - this one seems heterosexual AND reminds me of my abuser’s dragon OC, which he guilt tripped me into drawing for him as his form of porn).  He ruined an entire franchise for me because he harassed me so badly.  He guilt tripped me in about how hard it was being autistic (and threw in some comments about how teens think they have it “so hard with their anxiety and depression” when “they really have no idea”, to a teenager struggling with identifying anxiety and depression - i didn’t believe that bullcrap but I did fall for his autism sob story) and convinced me to do art trades with him which were just redraws of my own stuff, and he’d repeatedly spam me and yell at me and guilt trip me to finish his work if I so much as read his note without responding.  He drained my motivation for DeviantArt along with my love of a franchise.  This man was also a serial harasser/spammer, he did this to MANY people, including other minors.  I wasn’t a specific target - honestly, I think I was pretty low on his priority list, considering he only tried to come back a few times.  The kicker?  I’m pretty sure I’m autistic, even though I had no idea back then.  At least, I sure do have a lot of symptoms of autism now that I look back.

Not good enough for you?  Okay.  How about the fact that a relative of mine tried to convince my aunt that she (my aunt, not the relative) was sexually abused by my paternal grandfather as a child, sending my aunt into a mental breakdown because she couldn’t remember anything like that and had no idea?  My aunt is the weak link in our family, she’s adopted and felt othered for it, and lived away from the rest of our family for a long time.  She recently started getting involved and just happened to be attacked by a known financial and mental abuser in our extended family right when she started getting back involved.  I’m thankful that my dad and my uncles were able to help her get a better picture of her father.  Keep in mind that I don’t have a positive image of my paternal grandfather, because he smoked and gave my dad + uncle health problems due to it - and I personally consider that an accidental form of child abuse, in a way.  But he was NOT a fucking incestual pedophile.  It infuriated me to hear that, despite never meeting him, and having a negative overall impression of him.

How about another?  My step-step-grandmother (long story) has accused my deceased uncle of being a money-hungry monster and stealing all of her rightful money after his father/her husband died.  We’re in a court case to get the inheritance we deserve from her now, but she only ever brought this up AFTER he passed away.  When informed about his dead, she bitched about how he made her loose money, and how she was struggling despite using up all of my mom’s inheritance (from her step-father AND her mother).  Because you know, that’s what you do when someone dies.  My uncle was the only uncle on my mom’s side to make it to my birthdays, his family gave my mom and I a place to stay when we ended up stranded down south due to a bad head injury my dad got (also long story) and we didn’t have time to make it back home and we didn’t want to just leave my dad there.  My uncle was probably the nicest, kindest family member I had.  His funeral was the first funeral I went to, and there were TONS of people.  He was a Christian man who lived by true Christian values, and plenty of people testified this at his funeral.  People I’d never even met before.  This old woman accused him of stealing her money (where did it go?? his wife is fucking broke now that he’s gone!), never caring enough to visit her, ect.  This old woman, who never even responded to my birthday invitations let alone came, who never made any attempt to make a mutual outreach to us.  She expected us to do all the work, and when we decided it wasn’t worth her ignoring and rejecting, we stopped.  And then she accused us of abandoning her.  This is an old woman, but she’s still an evil person - or an evil person who is now just a shell of evil, unable to even remember a time when she didn’t believe these lies that she told herself.

And don’t get me started on how this applies to ace discourse.  Heaven forbid I compare the ace/aro experience to another LGBT experience!  It’s only okay if I compare it to the straight experience (which i do btw, because i KNOW we benefit from homophobia unless we’re also sga) even though it has 99% more in common with the LGBP experience than the straight experience.  This isn’t an inclusionist vs exclusionist thing - this is just COMPARISONS.  It’s like saying murkrow looks like a crow - like yeah, no shit sherlock!! doesn’t mean murkrow is just the same as a real life fucking crow!!!  And god, haven forbid you talk about real aphobia and how it affects real aspec people.  Immediately every allo in the area will jump on you about how that’s just misogyny and rape culture and blah blah blah.  Then what about when it happens to men?  What about when it happens to nonbinary people?  What about when it has literally nothing to do with gender or being forced to have sex, and is just a constant feeling of being othered and excluded?  Forgotten and not believed?  Constantly doubted that your experience is real?  And then to be told that the very bigotry you suffered was just a part of a bigger issue, instead of specifically about a part of your identity....bullshit.  There IS overlap in certain social issues.  Race affects how homophobia and transphobia affects a person deeply.  Same with misogyny and race.  So of course there’s overlap.  But to say that aphobia doesn’t exist, I’m sorry - I don’t say this lightly, but that’s unconscious gaslighting. (there is no better term than that - believe me, I looked.  My point is that I don’t believe it’s intentional, but LGBP people, trans or not - you NEED to stop doing this.  You ARE unconciously gaslighting aces and aros.  This is not anecdotal, there are statistics and you refuse to believe them, despite pointing at just as credible statistics to prove your own points.  You say we can’t use anecdotal evidence, but then go on to use it yourself.  Intentional or not, you need to quit it.)

I really don’t want to talk about how race and this stuff intertwine because I really don’t have any experience with that as a white person.  All I know is that groups of POC can be bigoted towards other groups of POC, and they can even be bigoted towards people of their own race.

Which leads me to the most important part of this post: The fact that minorities can abuse majority groups, even if its on the basis of their minority group, does NOT mean that minority groups are not oppressed.

Just because a few women lie about being raped, doesn’t mean that all women who say they were raped are lying.  Just because an autistic person abused me, doesn’t mean that all autistic/mentally disabled people and mentally ill people are scary.  Just because aphobia is real doesn’t mean that non-SGA aces and aros don’t benefit from homophobia to a certain degree.  Just because homophobia kills doesn’t mean that aphobia isn’t just as real.  Just because the LGBT community has a habit of gaslighting victims of aphobia doesn’t mean that the LGBT community oppresses the aspec community.  Just because POC can discriminate against or even hold systemic power over another POC doesn’t mean that they aren’t both oppressed by white people.

Abuse is not oppression.  Oppression is a repeated, prolonged offense of cruel and unjust control.  None of my anecdotals “prove” that oppression for these groups isn’t real.  Because I’m part of these groups, and it’s my opinion that it IS real.  But my anecdotals are also still valid.  It is not problematic to point out when someone uses their minority status to abuse and manipulate others.  It is not problematic to call bigoted, cruel mentally disabled people problematic for being manipulative and abusive.  Their disability is not an excuse.  Their identity is not an excuse.  Their experience may be a reason, but not an excuse.  But neither is your experience.  Let people talk about their individual experiences AND the wider issues of oppression as a whole.  They don’t have to be opposite faces of the same coin, and it’s sad that we act like they do.

[theprivacypolicy]

RIP, Bourdain. Good Morning, willpower.

    The first bit of information I received when I opened my eyes this morning was the news of Anthony Bourdain's death. By suicide. The second celebrity death this week. I was raised under the belief that death comes in threes. He is the third suicide I've heard of this week. A friend of mine watched a woman jump to her death on the L train platform hours after Kate Spades death was announced. He shared his experience 1 min later on Instagram stories.

    The death of Bourdain brings great sadness, as I and many others of my generation were fans of his. Details about this popularity, admiration and fandom are all probably pretty similar. He served the same to so many of us, I’d be an echo if I regaled right now. Something about a book and maybe steak and maybe an addiction. Everyone had a favorite Bourdain thing. Mine was mostly about food talk and human empathy. I’ll save that part for myself. Maybe I’ll share later. But here’s what shook me out of bed to send a text to my closest ex about the news. This depression thing. This depression thing is so real. We are watching so many things unfold in this new black mirror landscape, our ability to share information which travels great distances at great speed is something generations before us never had. Look how we are confronting it. Look at how we are using this medium.I took a screen shot of the article, shared the news on my Instagram stories with a caption “depression is serious you guys. Depression is very very real.” After witnessing the platform jumper, my friend shared his experience with a quick insta story, because I guess you get service on the Bedford platform. I probably would have done the same. My social news feed this morning is post after post of Bourdain, various homage and tribute. Earlier this week, pictures of Kate Spade bags and shoes. Who the fuck is this for? This post for you? So you feel good knowing that people know you read his book? You had a pair of her shoes?  “Check in on people”... oh word? Did you check in on anyone before you reframed that Instagram photo of your purse?

     Gross. I stay throwing shade at posts from “Friends” yet I see myself doing the same shit. If we are so quick to post and share and comment, make this connection, share an opinion, make judgement, claim a feeling, post a picture of yourself with the departed, why are we so slow to confront what we are really and truly saying? There’s always a reason behind these posts that go unshared. We are so falsely candid. Sometimes if feels like the more we post, the more transparent things become that everyone is full shit. What was I trying to say with my pre-coffee Instagram? What was so important to me that I needed to get that out in that medium at that moment? Pretty sure my post was a guise to say, “I know about depression, because I have clocked a lifetime of experience with that shit, and now you know.” So, instead of saying it in 40 characters or less, here is what I really wanted to say....

    The suicides this week are a “trigger” for me. I grew up in a house with a manic depressive bipolar single mother of 3 girls. I witnessed a lot at a young age. For 18 years, I had a front row seat to symptoms of depression I often mistook as “normal”, for lack of alternate lens. One of my earliest  memories was watching my mother try to slit her wrist AND jump off my 32nd fl terrace. At the same time. I pretended I was sleeping. I was watching through a crack in the blanket over my head while my sister calmed her down and removed the kitchen knife from her hand.  I remember that every time I use a knife that looks like the one she held. Her depression was real. Hours in bed, in a dark room with the TV flickering sitcoms, sometimes turned into days. Calls from my school checking in because I missed so many days in a row. She couldn’t muster the strength or energy to dress me and get me on the school bus. Once I understood her behavior as illness, I kept it a secret from my friends. My mother survived her depression and passed away, ultimately, from a viral illness. I don’t doubt that years of depression exhausted her immunity to fight the various illnesses and cancers she battled over her 54 years. Sometimes it’s hard to tell which came first, chicken or egg. And as frustrating and traumatic it was to be in the care of the mother who faced the challenges she faced, I found myself in awe of her willpower today. I struggle with reflecting on my relationship with my mother, but the death of Bourdain and Spade gave me some insight, and that, I am appreciative of.

This is about willpower.

    Here is the other kicker. I too have a relentless relationship with depression. Trauma is a hellofadrug, maaan. So when I’m out on these social media streets judging tweets, I’m not being a h8r. I kind of feel like I’m a part of a club today. Some of us looking at each other with a shared understanding. For pop culture sake: If you know, you know. On a text chain to a best friend on “the inside”, who truly knows me and my shit- I wrote on depression; “There’s like a clear identifiable line between the people who understand and the people who don’t and front like they understand. And then worse the ones who flap about “checking in with your friends” when you know damn well they don’t practice that shit.” I found refuge in his understanding my message. I find refuge in sharing my true feelings with him. He’s got the dark cloud sometimes, too. He gets it. He suggested I not let the social media voices get to me. Didn’t stop me from scrolling and getting fired up.

“OMG so sad! So surprising!”

Really though? Is it?

“He was so good at enjoying life”.  

No, he wasn’t. If he were, this wouldn’t have happened. Someone who is “good at enjoying life” looks at life and kills themselves in France is not good at enjoying life. Don’t put that on people. That’s a pressure. Being “good at enjoying life” is a broad fucking statement. It shouldn’t be a measure. I’m sure he wanted to be good at enjoying life, and maybe his projects were forms of therapy to get him though the days. But he wasn’t good at enjoying life. He faked it. And that’s ok, too. Coping mechanisms can really make a false impression. People are surprised? Honestly, I’m not surprised at ALL. Not one bit. Because depression is real. Being shocked that depression can bring someone to a deep dark place is a privilege I wish I had.

I’m so frustrated with the empathy struggle for those who do not experience depression. I once had a Christian friend of mine say he didn’t understand and has no sympathy for anyone who kills themselves. He shared he has never been depressed and doesn’t understand how anyone “gets that way” because he keeps life simple by not having high expectations of people. That must be nice. So many problematic things there. The good thing about not understanding anyone who kills themselves is that they dead. So they don’t care what you think and they likely didn’t want your sympathy anyway.

    This idea of expressing understanding of depression is so fragile. Either you understand from experience, and by proxy, reveal trauma. Or you don’t have an experience to borrow empathy from and are then risk alienating the effected. Or worse, you pretend to empathize because the “victim” was famous. Then, add social media to the mix (which we know is the worst already). RIP posts are a great example of toxic group think and narcissism. And I know, a lot of the RIP chatter is just personal coping. I love myself some personal public coping, clearly, this is proof. I guess my wish for us all, on any side of depression, is that we be more honest with ourselves about what we are trying to say when we post shit in times like these. What are we really trying to say? And to whom? And why?  Look friends, no tea no shade, I get it. Sometimes these purse pictures and “I own Kitchen Confidential” posts are simply, a show of respect, a modern twist on ceremony. Like wearing all black. I did my tribute part today, too. I’m wearing all white. ( I wear black all day every day). It’s for me really it’s not for anyone else.  My ceremonious acknowledgement of how valuable life is.  If social media has become a part of your ceremony, c'est la -modern- vie, I guess? I didn't sign up for this ride. But I am going to try and be gracious while on it. Consider this: the post you make about shock and sadness might alienate someone who could otherwise open up to you about their battle with depression. It is not always visible. Destigamtize it by being open to the understanding that this can happen to anyone at any time. No one is immune. Sure, post a number to a hotline, but consider that suggesting a “solution” or sharing advice on something you have zero experience with is not effective. Not for this one. We see through those. Is that post for us? Or just so people know you know how to “help” people? Have you done this? Don’t be embarrassed, I do it to. With shit like refugees and pipelines. But the refugees and Native Americans probably can’t see my armchair activism. Chances are, your depressed friend see’s these. Better thing? Answer their call. Send them a text. Don’t get upset if they don’t write back.

   On life, depressed or not, we get one. We should all check in with ourselves, at least twice a day. And check in with each other more often than we do, even the retreaters. Especially the retreaters. A classic symptom of depression is retreating. We should also be cognizant of when someone has struggled and has taken the right steps to better themselves. Support those initiatives. Be careful with the word crazy. Be careful with the word bipolar. Saying “get help” is as effective as wearing a safety pin to tell people they are “safe”.

    Les Halle's will be packed today, no doubt.  I have the urge to go there and have a martini, myself, a thing I would do there when I was 25 and feeling more optimistic about the world. Just kidding. It’s closed now. News to me. Whatever other foods and places and stops Bourdain swore by will be frequented, they’ll run out with whatever is the thing that he recommended. His favorite patisserie didn’t know this was going to happen today. The kitchen at his favorite spots didn’t expect that they’d run out (86?) the dish he insisted was a must have. The Friday rush was expected but I suspect orders in rapid excess today, because that’s how New Yorkers deal. In rapid excess. The shift will end and another will begin the next day. In the perpetual motion machine, many will be pausing in a moment for Bourdain today. Same here. RIP Bourdain. Thank you for your insight and knack for story telling. Most of all, thank you for reminding me that with struggle comes willpower. Your death pushed me to acknowledging willpower as a secret serum that kept the loved ones in the struggle around a little longer. Your death also gave me a chance to acknowledge that I have a bit of that secret serum, myself. Thank you for holding on to that serum for the time you did, and sharing your stories with us. You are appreciated.

    If you read this far and need someone to talk to, you can also google the help outlets and choose who you want to call. I’m not going to tell you what to do or how to do it. It doesn’t work like that. If you know me, you probably have my number, use that too if you want. A copy paste phone number isn’t going to convince you any more to remember willpower, which I urge you to remember. All these dead people had willpower. It’s just that they hit a real bad one. Try not to hit the bad one. Remember willpower, you’ve used it before. I have it and I know you have it too.

----------

But if you don't wanna google resources, here are some they sent to the entire office today. i usually align with their resources, they're decent people. 

suicidepreventionlifeline.org - Chat or call 1-800-273-8255, available 24/7

crisistextline.org - Text HOME to 741741 for 24/7 crisis support

seizetheawkward.org - Provides various resources such as tutorial videos, information on warning signs and conversation starters

[cloppyreads]

Dumb Fanfic Writer Reads Salty Comments

Hey guys, if you didn’t know, I’m a huge fan of the horrific YouTube series Filthy Frank, which I’ve only become really interested in over the past few months. One of the funniest series he does is “Loser Reads Hater Comments” which is pretty self-explanatory through the title itself. Whereas my last post about Pride was pretty composed, this time the filter is coming COMPLETELY off, so if you’re not a fan of me cussing and basically being a huge dick to the people who deserve it, then I’d just skip this post. Everyone else, jump down past the “read below” line

Alright motherfuckers, let’s get this shit-show on the road! We’ll start off with the main account, AO3, which is where I got a lot of the heat from in the first weekend of chapter 1 going up, but let’s take a look at the constructive criticism that the opposition felt the need to leave for me (and if you want to read the full comments section for yourself, here you go):

(You’re most-likely going to have to right-click the images and open them in another tab to be able to read them, since I’m putting this under the “read more” line. Sorry. :( ) 

First of all, don’t you love these types?  Hurrrr, the media is corrupt, man, they’re all trying to brainwash us with their poisonous broadcasts, I’m not gonna let them make me one of their SHEEPLE, illuminati confirmed!!1! Second of all, HOLY CRAP, you DIDN’T vote for Trump, and you’re STILL disagreeing with me!? Oh my god guys, we have such an open-minded individual, someone give this special snowflake a medal, STAT! Buddy, nobody gives a shit that you didn’t vote for Trump. Your voting choice doesn’t take away the butthurt that you’re projecting because I’m saying something you don’t like. I mean, I’m just speculating here, I could easily be wrong about this, but I’m gonna wager a guess through your comments that you didn’t vote for Hillary either, so that leaves you in three possible groups: 1) You didn’t vote at all, which means you don’t give a shit about your country, and you’re just as much to blame for every shitty decision Trump makes because you didn’t even TRY to stop it.  2) You were one of the 10,000 idiots who voted for Harambe, a dead gorilla. Not just a gorilla, an animal, who isn’t allowed to be president anyway, but a DEAD animal who isn’t allowed to be president. So there’s a strong possibility that you were one of the thousands of college students who were just barely old enough to vote, and were chuckling the entire time you waited in the voting line mumbling “lol memes xD” while avoiding eye contact with anyone more attractive than you (which is probably most people).  3) You voted for that libertarian guy who I can’t even remember- Johnson, something or other? I forget what his deal was, but he was basically an idiot. My brain probably did me a favor by purging him from my memory. 

Alright, let’s move on

Well guys, I don’t know how to fight this one; nobody in the history of the world has ever made a parody of a real person for satire and to entertain the people who don’t like that person. There’s no such thing as SNL or any other late night talk show who does this regularly for entertainment purposes.  I’m basically public enemy number 1 at this point, I’m shocked the FBI hasn’t knocked on my door because I made a caricature of Trump. But even if they do, I’m not going quietly. I’ve got a Walking Dead dart-shotgun that’s fully loaded and ready to pop some sticky darts onto people’s foreheads. #FUCK GUN CONTROL Seriously though, you want to cry about leftists burning buildings down because of political bullshit? Do you? Do you also want to cry about white sports fans who burn down cars and start riots when their team loses (or hell, even if they win)? You know who doesn’t cry about that? Fox News. Yeah, they just show a thirty second blip of it on TV and chalk it up to “some fans getting a little out of control” God forbid any of those fans have dark skin, otherwise they might get shot just for screaming too loud. 

what’s next?

WHEW LAD Okay, telling me that I need to adopt a “don’t ask don’t tell policy” about politics in MY writings, seriously? What country are you from, Korea? One of those countries where you’re required to suck your political leader’s dick every day or you get thrown in jail or worse, killed? Buddy, I said right in the first chapter there was gonna be political bias in this story; I didn’t say I was a political scientist and that I was writing this as a thesis for how our government needs to restructure itself (at this point, I think dismantling it completely might be better off; a Mad Max style anarchy or Walking Dead wasteland looks like an okay alternative right now), I wrote this story for entertainment purposes. Telling me this story is shit because the politics aren’t 100% accurate is the same kind of cringe that tumblr exhibited when they got mad at Zootopia because the staff designed Judy’s nose incorrectly, BIG FUCKING DEAL.  Oh, and the kicker, saying I created “a major divide in the audience” and warning me when “all hell breaks loose”.  Oh my god guys, I’m so scared! I think some terrorist organizations are gonna come after me because I wrote a fanfic that expressed my ideals! Shit! I better seclude myself in the Right-Wing protection room, I hope I have enough canned ravioli and lotion to survive their furious rage! D: 

Ooh, ouch, that cuts deep yo! What an educated response, just rubbing my face in it, oh god, how will I recover!?? Alright, well if you click on this guy’s name, you can see that he doesn’t have any stories on his account. If you google search his name though, you’ll find two things of interest that stand out: -He’s a League of Legends player (and it lists his stats there, but I don’t play this game; is he good? Is he trash? Someone who plays this game tell me, because I don’t give a shit enough to look it up). -He has an account on fanfiction.net which has ONE story, the Zootopian Empire. I’m not gonna waste my brain cells on reading any of the story, but just from the description, I’m gonna assume this guy has such a hard on for League that his manchild brain decided it’d be a good idea to write a Zootopia fanfic that basically has the characters from the movie stand in for the characters of the game. Is that what this is, Valhalla? You trying to be a writer by combining your favorite videogame with your favorite movie? Oh yeah, those always go over REAL well. “Oh my fucking god guys, I fucking love League, and I fucking love Zootopia! I’m gonna write a fanfic that combines both of them and I’ll just explode with popularity, because the idea is so good that IT SELLS ITSELF, I AM A FUCKING GENIUS!!” 

Alright that’s all for AO3′s side, let’s take a look at what angry manchildren on fanfiction.net had to say: 

Totally didn’t write a foreword in my first chapter warning people “this story contains political bias, don’t read it that bothers you”, nope, not at all.  Seriously, how do people like you get through life? Do you read a sign that says “water contains sharks, do not swim”, then jump right in and get mad when you see sharks coming after you? You’re obviously (barely) smart enough to read, so do you just willfully ignore warnings for the sole purpose of being an ass? Great use of your time there, I’m glad this small act of yours gave you the confidence you needed to keep going through life. :)

Sir, you seem to be coughing a whole lot. Are you okay? Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time with your head up your own ass, you wouldn’t be choking on your own shit; just a thought.  Anyway, yeah, you reading stories from National Enquirer about Hillary SUBTLE COUGH AND PRETENDING TO CHOKE WHILE I CORRECT MYSELF LAWL MALLORY and her secret emails doesn’t really convince me or anyone else with an above average IQ. I do find it funny however that people like you will take any mention of questionable emails from ANY source as unarguable truth, but when allegations of Trump THROAT CLEAR SHAKE OF HEAD HOLDING UP HANDS ROFL TRUNK HA HA being guilty of sexually assaulting women, you start saying “Hurrrrr, where’s your prooooof, where’s your sources, huuuuuuuuh!?”.  Ah, hypocrisy; smells of that ripe acrid smell of bullshit. Gotta love it. 

Now this... this one brought a tear to my eye. I mean, I know there’s war going on in the East, starving children in third-world countries and nations who have gone entirely bankrupt, but this... this is the most tragic thing I have ever heard.  A person living in a well-off global super power country has to... they have to... see and hear things that they don’t like! On TV! On the radio! On newspapers! And they can’t do anything about it! They can’t change the channel, or look up something on youtube or play a videogame to give themselves some entertainment to distract themselves from this minor inconvenience; NO. They have to sit there helpless and the thing they’re subjected to makes them slightly uncomfortable.  Guys... I’m sorry, I’m just so emotional right now, I need to go listen to Arms of the Angel and grieve for this poor soul living in a constant state of minor inconvenience. T___T

Fun fact: the part about the transgender thing is 100% wrong you dub fucking idiot, and unlike you, I have a source backing it.  According to the same source, apparently he doesn’t want them in the military either, so thanks for proving how stupid you are, bye bye. 

Oh hey guys, look, it’s Mr. “I’m gonna write a Zootopia fanfic that’s basically League of Legends with Zootopia characters.” AGAIN I don’t really have much to say about this, I just think it’s funny that the same guy had to show how NOT UPSET he is by commenting on the first chapter ON TWO DIFFERENT WEBSITES.  Good job sir, you sure are showing me the what-for’s and the business and stuff, I just can’t survive under your onslaught. 

So that’s all for the public comments on both websites, which means this little segment of mine SHOULD be over; but wait, there’s more! This one came really as a surprise to me, because I got it through a PM on FurAffinity, which I haven’t even published the story on (I kept meaning to, but, eh, lazy).  I’m not going to ask you to read this whole thing-- I seriously don’t want you guys to waste your precious brain cells on something like this, but I still felt like I at least had to show you a visual of it, just so you know that human beings like this are indeed real.  Without further ado, I present to you, the MacDaddy of butthurt manchild in its purest form:

I know that’s probably too small of font for most of you to read- like I said, don’t bother reading the whole thing, your IQ will probably drop by seven points- but that is a whopping twelve paragraphs of “I don’t like what you said, it hurt my feelings and made me more upset than any rational human being should feel over something so inconsequential”.

I’ll admit, I didn’t read the whole thing either, but just for fun, let’s go ahead and skim it and highlight a few parts of it: “ To make matters even worse, instead of providing a reasonable political commentary and giving both sides their fair share of flaws, you go into full-on Hillary Clinton fangirl mode, portraying Muleford's side through rose-tinted glasses while making Trunk and his supporters look like total lunatics. Officer McHorn, for example, is ridiculed for bringing up the email scandal, which is actually a real issue that the FBI themselves have exposed multiple times. “ blah blah blah, here’s some stuff I read from my favorite Republican news source... “ What makes this even more glaring is how obviously out of character Judy and Nick are here. They both uncharacteristically identify themselves as "progressives" who "embrace diversity in each other's species", have uncontrolled emotional breakdowns over election turnouts, and even go as far as to ditch their jobs as impartial protectors of the law in order to carry protest signs around during an organized event they should be patrolling.” Yeah, because you know, you, a fan who has no involvement with the creation of the canon movie, never collaborated with the directors or the staff or anyone working for Disney, has all the business in the world telling me what is and isn’t “out of character” for characters you didn’t create. Great logic there.  “ Speaking of which, what's up with all the blatant Donald Trump demonization? Yes, I get that you voted for Hillary Clinton, as you made that painfully obvious earlier, but that doesn't justify using Remus Trunk as an excuse to hate on Donald Trump. Whether you like it or not, he is our country's president, so the least you could do is be tasteful about it. There are better ways to go about tackling political issues than constantly calling a political caricature "bigoted"” Bro, how many people wouldn’t shut the fuck up about how much they hated Barack Obama when he was president? What if Hillary had won; would you take anyone seriously if they were telling you to show her some respect because she was the president, or would you be foaming at the mouth going “TRAITOR TRAITOR EMAILS PUT HER IN JAIL I AM UPSET AND INSECURE BLARRRRRGH!!!!”? Anyway, that’s all I care to read of that message, you get the idea-- people who either like Trump or like Hillary LESS than Trump all had to come pitch a fit and tell me how threatened they are that I expressed my opinion in a fucking fanfiction. Really great that these are the people who think the world is too PC and that everyone is too sensitive for their tastes, when they themselves get all butthurt when someone voices something that disagrees with them. 

So there you have it- my fanfiction pissed off a lot of idiots, and no shits were given. I just wanted to showcase this gallery because it was fun, and I hoped it was fun for some of you guys too. If you think this was petty and that I should have been the bigger man and just ignore them, you’re probably right, but I think being the bigger man is overrated. :) Petty for life! Whooo!

[simplychaotic]

An Open Letter To: Well, You Know Who You Are

Here we are.  Where is that exactly? Neither one of us has any idea.  We are driving completely blind at 100 km/h in the darkness, just hoping the ride will go smoothly.  This is terrifying.  Because at any moment we could jump a curb and end up top down in a ditch.  Things could go horribly wrong in an instant, but yet we aren’t even trying to slow down.  

The reality of this is, I dove head first into a situation I wasn’t prepared for.  I didn't even look before I leapt; I just started to fall.  And suddenly, before I knew it, I was falling; going faster and faster every second.  I was just waiting to hit the ground, but I didn’t.  Ever since that moment I’ve just been endlessly falling for you, wondering if I’ll ever actually get there.  There are things you do every day that remind me why I spend time with you.  There are things you do every day that scare the shit out of me and make me want to run away.  That’s the hardest part, isn’t it?  Trying to decide if I should run to you, or away from you.  I don’t know if you’re falling too or not, but honestly baby I’m no net.  I’m no comfort.  I don’t know if I’ll catch you if you fall.  I’m far too weak to ever be able to hold a love as strong as yours.

We met in one of the most mediocre ways possible, and we both like to joke that, instead, we met in some cool coffee shop downtown.  Joking comes easy with you; laughing comes easy with you.  I’ve never felt awkward… somehow we missed that stage in our “friendship”.  We went from complete strangers to completely comfortable in a matter of a few weeks.  I’ve never experienced that before.  

After only a little over a month I was already spending every waking minute with you.  You were the reason a few of the guys I was seeing fucked off… because they were intimidated by our relationship.  Maybe they saw something that I couldn’t, that I should’ve, that I will.  Quite honestly, I’m glad you came along and helped push them out of my life.  You saved me from someone who would have been incredibly abusive, and from someone who already was.  

We talk every day, and we actually have GOOD conversations.  Do you understand how rare that is?  To find a man who actually wants to ask you questions like “What is your biggest fear?” or “What is your favourite season?”  Someone who puts equally as much effort into the conversation as you do?  It’s fucking rare.  And I love it.  I love feeling like you want to know every little thing about me.  And here’s the kicker… You actually remember everything I tell you. And even the little things I don’t tell you, but you notice.  Then, when I’m sad or feeling unloved, you remind me of all those things.  You list off the things you love about me; the things I don’t even know I’m doing.  

You take candid pictures of me when I’m least expecting it.  Like when I’m sitting on the edge of the couch watching TV, and you have to snap a picture because you think I look sexy that way.  Or when you catch me mesmerized by a storm, or by the sunset, and I turn to find you staring at me like I’m the most beautiful woman in the world.  I can’t even begin to describe to you the way that look makes me feel.  

The darker side of this is that I feel jealous when you share your time with someone else.  I feel sad when you're not around, yet I refuse to be dependent on someone again.  Every time I tell you this, you just softly reassure me that I’ve “never met you before.”  That you’re not going to hurt me like the other guys did, and that you’re not going to walk out on me.  I’m detached.  Detachment isn’t “not caring” about you, it’s just that I’m guarded.  Maybe that’s why I’m always so confused.  They say that the most confused you’ll ever be is when you’re trying to convince your head of something your heart knows is a lie.  Maybe I’m trying to convince myself that I haven’t fallen for you; maybe I’m trying to convince myself that I won’t.  

We both know this isn’t fair, and that we can’t play fools forever.  But what do I do when you are every song on my playlist?  When you’re every quote I read?  When you’re every sunrise and sunset that passes by?  You’re my moon, my stars, my blue eyes.  You’re everything now, do you understand that?  Do you understand that this whole time, you’ve had the audacity to permeate my soul and my mind, and I am consumed by thoughts of you, always.  

I told you I’m a storm; you told me you enjoy my rain.  I told you I’m a hurricane of emotion, usually anger, and that I cause damage to those who encounter me.  You told me my anger is just a default emotion because I’m scared to feel anything else… and you’re right.  You told me that I only believe I’m a storm because that’s what everyone has always told me.  And then you held me close and told me that even if I was a storm, you love storms.  You love the chaos, the beauty, the unpredictability.  I realized then that you are the eye of my storm.  Even though there may be gorgeous chaos surrounding you, you are calm.  You are just a blinding ray of white light that was sent down my path to help me heal.  And I am forever thankful for you.  

I know I’ve gotten angry and told you that you're just like everyone else.  That wasn't fair to you.  I told you that I get angry and sometimes I can’t control it.  I wasn’t surprised when I realized you didn’t really know how to handle it… no one ever really does.  Sometimes I wonder if there’s something wrong with me, and that’s why I get the way I do.  I make myself believe that I’ve got a hold on it, but in all honesty, I don’t.  

It’s truly amazing what a smile can hide, but I could never hide anything from you.  You always knew when something was awry, and you demanded I spoke about it, because you knew that was what I wanted.  I wanted you to ask me ten times what was wrong, because I was stubborn.  You didn’t care.  I’ve pushed and pushed, and you’ve stood there like a wall refusing to move.  I’ve been crazy, I’ve been loving, I’ve showed you almost every side of me, yet here I am and here you are.  

I have to be honest with you though, because I know I’m going to hurt you.  I can’t allow myself to hurt someone like you.  I am so fragile, but instead of seeing someone broken you look at me in awe wondering how I move so delicately.  But I see you, too.  I see your wounds, your scars, and I’ve become them.  But I will not allow myself to be the person to get underneath them just to destroy you after you’ve healed.  I also know that you won’t chase me.  I don’t deserve to be chased by you.  Which means that if I choose to leave, I know it’s a decision I’d have to live with for the rest of my life.  You deserve someone better… maybe I should have just been better.  

Space is a scary thing, because you never know if the person will miss you or forget about you all together.  This kills me, you know that?  I’ve had this typed up for weeks.  Deleting, re-typing, rearranging… trying to decide what message I wanted to send you.  I still don’t know if I’ll send this to you as I type this sentence again.  Why am I doing this?  I’m not ready for a relationship, and you know that.  But what happens when you get tired of waiting for me?  When does enough become enough?  I can’t ever picture my life without you, but I don’t know how long it would take for me to say yes to my life being with you, either.  I don’t know what I want, and I can’t keep hurting you like this… it just isn’t fair.  

My stomach is in knots, because I’m realizing I may never sleep next to you again.  I’m realizing I may never kiss you again.  I’ve realized those things every time they’ve happened… and it’s sad, really.  When you’re missing a moment before it’s even over.  On the other hand, you could read this and show up at my door unannounced and tell me that I’m worth all of it.  But I couldn’t ever predict what the outcome of this letter will be.  

I never want to lose you, ever.  But it’s time that you finally understand why I’ve been in such a mood lately.  We need to make a decision, and maybe some space and time apart is exactly what we need to make the right one.  The hardest part about all of this is that I want nothing more than for you to be laying beside me right now.  

That’s how confused I am.  And I’m sorry.  

Goodnight, sugar.

xoxo,  

Marin

[crossedbeams]

My Last Word on Gillovny/Gilligan/UGH

Or a treatise on double standards, confirmation bias and FOR FUCKS SAKE IT’S NONE OF OUR BUSINESS.

I KEEP getting asks about this, and on anon so I can’t answer privately so this is the post that I go out on in terms of trying to explain myself. I will just link back to this.

Yes. I used to be be Gillovny. Pretty hardcore, it’s a lovely freindship and I’m a romantic. But then the landscape changed, and gradually so did my view. Now, if I had to put money on it, I guess I’d back Peter Morgan, but I also refuse to reduce any woman, especially one as boss ass as Gillian Anderson, to who she is dating. 

The rest is going under the cut. Beware, I may use actual rational reasoning so if that kinda stuff offends you, look away and unfollow me, because I am done with the Trump style “information” and “fact” going around.

Why I started believing in Gillovny: The first non MSR interaction I saw between GA & DD was Kimmel. It was cute, there seemed to be a lot of cute, I’m a romantic, their history is interesting, their friendship lovely and neither of them was linked to anyone else.

Why I stopped believing in Gillovny (the romance): It stopped adding up. For me, the fact that there have never been any public sightings, and that they denied it was always my sticking point. While all the other “evidence” was cute, add someone that Gillian is being seen with to the mix and suddenly the balance switches. So I stepped back, but I still believed I could participate in the “gillovny” fandom, by appreciating their wonderful friendship.

Turns out I was wrong.

And here’s why.

The second I posted a picture of Gillian and Peter Morgan, at an actual real life thing where they both were, just because it was a nice picture, I had people screaming at me for shoving it in their face, for being gross, anting to know why I would believe they were dating.

And I was like WHUT. I thought maybe it was kneejerk, people upset that maybe the thing they’d shipped might not be real. I figured it would calm down. I left it alone.

But as time passes, it hasn’t, all that has happened is the fandom has been arbitrarily divided in to “us” and “them”. “Us” being the people who still ardently believe in Gillovny, and them being.... well anyone else.

And even that wouldn’t be so bad, I don’t expect people to agree with me on everything but I do expect them to respect my space, and respect the people they claim to care about. Which is what is not happening anymore.

THE DOUBLE STANDARD OF “PROOF”

This is how it works.

If Gillian is seen with a man at an event.

The man is DD - OMG! CUTE! THEY’RE IN LOVE!

The man is PM - UGH. Promo. Get him off my dash.

So far not so bad right? People don’t have to like PM. That’s fine, They maybe shouldn’t be so damn rude about his looks because, are we really that shallow, but people are gonna be nasty. But then the other side of the coin.

If Gillian is seen without a man at an event.

If the absent man is DD - well of course - they are keeping their love a secret. They have to.

If the absent man is PM - see, they're not together, if he loved her he would be there to support her work.

Umm... this doesn’t add up. And it gets more ridiculous.

The fact that Gillian and David have not been seen, spotted, given a joint anything since August last year.

Gillovny - Well that’s because we know that when they’re both quiet they’re together. Their love is secret remember.

Gilligan - Have been seen. Multiple times. And photographed. But this has been explained away by a (frankly insane) theory about cross promotion.

This is just the beginning, the double standard runs so deep (handholding for “Gillovny” is proof that they’re together. For “Gilligan” it’s him dragging her like an animal. Gillian looking happily at DD is eysex, at PM it’s “oh she’s looking over his head at someone off camera”). 

It. is. insane. 

But the thing is, a lot of us here are a little insane. So I wouldn’t even hold that against the people who want to stay in the Gillovny camp. YOu can believe what you want to believe.

Where I CANNOT stand by, is at the double standard facing bloggers.

THE DOUBLE STANDARD OF ACCOUNTABILITY

I get it, Gillovny is old, it will probably always have a place in some people’s hearts. But that does NOT mean it is right, or that talking about, or posting pictures of either Gillian or David with anyone else is in someway “wrong”.

I regularly have to scroll pass Gillovny RPF on my dash, it skeeves me out these days, but I scroll past. I’m a big girl.

But when a photograph, an actual literal, real life picture of two people at an event is posted, and reblogged, it’s as if the people reblogging it have posted snuff porn images or something. 

This literally happened. You can interpret it how you like, but implying that reality is shameful/gross/equivalent to RPF/headcanons is so fucked up. It just so happens that the most recent pictures of Gillian in public have Peter Morgan in them. So as a Gillian blog I am going to reblog them. Deal with it. 

People are entitled to their stories. But they should acknowledge them as such. Opinions, and strings of coincidences with a nice narrative are not the same as “the truth”. You can’t ask for a pass for your shipper headcanon and then reject actual happenings as gross and inappropriate. That’s ridiculous.

And it gets worse, because here is the kicker.

IT’S FINE TO TRY AND CONVINCE PEOPLE GILLOVNY IS REAL, TO ACTIVELY PROMOTE THE THEORY AS TRUTH. BUT YOU CAN’T EVEN MENTION THAT PETER MORGAN EXISTS AS A HUMAN WITHOUT CALLING DOWN THE WRATH OF THE FANDOM

I have never seen posted, or posted myself, anything to try and “convince” anyone that Gilligan is real. I have reblogged pictures of them together, because they’re nice pictures. I have said Gillian looks happy, because she does, there are also lots of solo pics in my happy Gillian tag (Implying the only person she can look happy with is DD is just... nope. ) All I have done, is reblog reality with my thoughts, and the odd utterly ridiculous, obviously a joke, thing from the one blog that seems to have a sense of humour about the thing.

But I don’t message people on anon, or otherwise, and try and explain away their point of view. I don’t pick everything I see or hear about Gillian apart to try an prove my point or disprove the opinions of those who want to believe in Gillovny. Some blogs have made it their mission to analyse to death every image, tweet and maybe sighting to prove their point is valid. And every one of those blogs falls on the Gillovny side. Some days it makes me think that they lack the conviction of their own belief, to need to try and undermine anything that doesn’t fit their narrative, and other days I think they’re just bored, or grieving, but most days I try not to think on it at all. 

Instead, I just blog what I want to, try to be respectful, and am constantly flabbergasted to have that thrown back in my face.

If not believing in Gillovny makes me a bad person, then I guess I’m a bad person. If posting pictures of actual events makes me gross, then I guess I’m gross. If saying when things go to far, and pointing out inconsistencies of reason and blatant lies being peddled as fact is “bullying” then I guess I’m a bully.

But I don’t think I’m any of those things. I think I’m a thoughtful person, with my own mind, who tries to respect others but also stands up for decent behaviour and sound reasoning. I laugh at things that are funny, I yell at things that are gross and I often fuck up.

I will not be shamed into silence by a noisy minority, who seem to feel that their opinion is not only “fact” but a fact that everyone must buy into. I will not stop posting pictures that don’t “fit” into that world view. I will not apologise for laughing at what has become ridiculous. 

Because make no mistake, it has become a farce. Just because you say something enough times and all your friends say it too and loudly, that thing does not become true. Its the tactic Trump is employing, that we all ridicule him for but seem incapable of spotting in our own backyard. Facts and real happenings can’t be “fake”,. they’re facts. Dana Scully is rolling her eyes so hard at this right now that she’s likely sprained something.

In conclusion... if all this doesn’t sound like something you can stomach, unfollow me, block me, but just stay out of my inbox and off my posts. It’s tacky, and I hate it.

[dantomasik]

There’s always been a wall between me and bad movies. When a movie is considered to be “so bad it’s good”, I can’t stomach it. Literally, I hit a stone wall in my mind that forces me to turn it off after minutes of watching. Movies like The Room, Garbage Pail Kids, Food Fight, Sharknado, etc are so painful I can’t force myself to endure them.

Yet I’m oddly ecstatic about this movie depicting the production of The Room. A movie I would sooner give myself a concussion than watch, I want to see the making of. Why is that? For me, I think it comes down to people like Tommy Wiseau versus people like Edward D. Wood Jr.

Ed Wood was infamous as one of the worst directors, worst filmmakers, of all time. His movies were so laughably bad they gained a cult following of people who would watch them to enjoy how terrible they were. Thing is, Ed Wood didn’t care if people disliked his movies. That wasn’t why he made them. More than anything, Ed Wood made movies because he loved them. He loved watching them, he loved discussing them, he loved making them. Nothing made Ed Wood happier than being in the director’s chair and working through the hundreds of tasks required to get a movie made. He loved the craft with all his heart. His only flaw was that he suffered a lack of artistic skill in the field. A trivial matter when faced with that kind of determination. You can respect that.

Tommy Wiseau is a very different kind of hopeless. Here is a man who believes, without any evidence to support it, that he is made of solid gold. That anything he’s involved in is automatically good because of his involvement. If passion was what drove Ed Wood, pure blind ego is to blame for Tommy Wiseau’s magnum crapheap. Against all odds, Tommy Wiseau garnered sufficient funding to fully produce, direct, write, star, and executive produce his movie, no matter how long it took. Carte blanche is the dream of every filmmaker and has created some of the most groundbreaking and influential movies of all time. And it’s been given to a man who doesn’t know the difference between producer and executive producer.

(Hint: Producer means you were involved in every aspect of the production. Executive producer means you contributed to one part of the production. Being both means you’re an idiot.)

How bad is The Room? You literally cannot imagine until you’ve seen Tommy Wiseau. Here is a movie so hopeless, so terrible, so blindly incompetent that the only person who could possibly have spawned it is the strange old foreign man on the screen. Until you have seen Tommy Wiseau act, you cannot imagine how bad his writing, directing, and producing can be. You want a full breakdown, watch Nostalgia Critic’s review of the film, because there’s literally too much to get into in here.

The kicker was that when the movie came out and audiences laughed at its complete and total failure as a film, Tommy Wiseau jumped the fence and began saying it had been his intention from the start to create a “satire”. And we said “bullshit”. Maybe he saw it as the only way out now that the world had made it extremely and hilariously clear how bad his movie was, but he did about as good a job convincing people as he did everything else. That is to say, poorly. We know the truth, that he attempted to make a masterpiece and created a disaster, because we have evidence. The movie. There is a better chance of monkeys living on the moon than the weird European old guy knowing what he was doing.

Why do I want to see this? Because I believe people like Tommy Wiseau should be ridiculed. I believe if you do something that badly, you’re not cut out for it. If you do it that badly and pretend you were doing it on purpose, we’re going to call you on it. Sometimes you need to know when to quit, but some people are too dumb to realize that. Usually it’s people with a track record for poor decisions. The Room is Tommy Wiseau’s entire track record. So please, Mr. Wiseau, present your arguments on the artistic merits of your disasterpiece and we’ll present ours. Unlucky for you, we have a 99-minute-long piece of evidence that says worlds about your level of competence.

Now we have the opportunity to see more. To see that behind the bizarre actor with a bare grasp on the English language making his way through a blandly vague generic plot, random abandoned storylines, unnecessary sex scenes, awkward forced dialogue, and a cavalcade of utterly confusing interactions with other characters; there was a lot more they cut out. You can’t believe how bad the finished product for The Room is until you’ve seen what went into it. Everything I’ve been saying is in some way addressed in this first trailer for James Franco’s The Disaster Artist.

*The movie production centered on some odd person with hair that looks like a bad wig.

*The main actor who can’t remember his lines.

*The needlessly repetitive and poorly written dialogue.

*The needlessly repetitive and poorly written dialogue that the main actor who can’t remember his lines could change because he wrote it, if he could just remember what to change it to, or what it was.

*The crew who can easily grasp in minutes what the main actor cannot in a dozen takes.

*The hostage situation between the main actor and the crew who, despite clearly being more competent, have to keep going until the guy holding everything up is satisfied.

*The off-screen costar trying to be encouraging and hopeful, like a parent supporting a child in something they put no effort into.

*The endless struggle between the length of the scene and the amount of time for the main actor to blow the take.

*The unrestrained celebration for one undoubtedly terrible take of this shitty dialogue performed badly because it means we can go home.

*It’s not going to get better.

[greenworkslawnmowers-blog]

Greenworks mo40l410 Review

---To start out with --- let me explain what I bought, I bought the 20" Greenworks mo40l410 (the one that comes with one 4AH battery). The fact that I have to clarify is annoying and more on this later.. This one appears to be a newer version of the 19" (but still brushless) that came before. --- On to the Greenworks mo40l410 review --- This Greenworks mo40l410 is pretty awesome. I was a bit nervous cause there were so few reviews on it. I previously had and loved the brushed corded 16" lawn mower from GreenWorks... it worked so well that I decided to untether myself for my birthday. I was convinced after the corded electric lawn mower worked flawlessly and my 40v GreenWorks brushless weed eater worked so well. So the mower went on sale on Prime Day and I jumped on it. First impressions are that the design engineers are clearly continuing improvements. The handle could fold on my corded lawn mower, but nowhere near as easily as this Greenworks mo40l410 can... I don't even like this feature and wouldn't use it regularly, but I can still appreciate the improvements that other people may use. The battery bay holds two batteries... but here's the kicker, I mowed some tall thick St. Augustine grass and finished the front yard you see in my images with a single battery... I suspect that as the blade gets a bit duller i'll need to swap batteries or sharpen the blade again. But that was a pleasant surprise. I also really like the large wheels of the Greenworks mo40l410, the longer radius makes maneuverability a charm and it gets over bumps with ease. The bagging of blades works well too even though I only tested it momentarily (I've switched to mulching cause there's no need to strip the lawn of future nutrients). I haven't figured out what the side discharger is for exactly, but it looks pretty cool. Like an exhaust pipe on a racecar or something. The way I see it, you want to pick up the clippings or you want to spread them around the lawn... not spray the area you just mowed or are about to mow. But it just clicks into place if you want it and I appreciate them adding it, even if it raised the cost by a dollar or something. The auto sensing lawn height feature is okay. I give it only 3 stars out of 5. It certainly works, but it kicks in about 2 seconds (or about 2 feet ) after you technically needed it. It's like the sensor or Ammeter has to measure taller grass for a few seconds before it kicks in. But by then your moving past that spot and might have missed a few clippings. It hasn't happened yet, but again, the blade is new and sharp. It would have been neater to have a sensor adjust on the fly up or down. It's all electric and the motor is brushless, there shouldn't be much wear and tear from constantly increasing and decreasing the motor speed to accommodate the lawn at that moment. Now, all this said, even on low speed the Greenworks mo40l410 was cutting like a champ. I would walk slowly and then quickly while the lawn mower was on the lowest setting to see if it changed performance, and it was virtually the same. All in all it functions exactly like you'd expect it to. I like the dual bay battery compartment. And the attention to details all over, like the cable runs have loops to pass through, the battery bay door has magnets to keep it shut, and details like that are visible all over, it's just very well thought out. If I'm being extremely nitpicky, here are some things I'd change (aside from the auto-motor-speed change I mentioned above). 1) Amazon listing... I almost knocked a star because whoever is putting these things on Amazon has no clue what they are doing. I see random mowers paired with un-related mowers, yet the reviews are for both? And I don't see all the options on the same listing. For example, this Greenworks mo40l410 lawn mower bounced around between listings multiple times in like 3 days. And this lawn mower has another listing identical to it, just without the battery and charger (the one I'm reviewing here)... yet somehow they aren't paired together? And it's not exactly clear how this Greenworks mo40l410 lawn mower differs from the older version other than it's maybe a newer model? Is it better or worse?... it's a complete freaking mess and I'm extremely annoyed. But it's not actually the products fault... so I convinced myself to keep the star. Get your blank together. 2) The battery bay door doesn't open very far. In fact it doesn't even open to 90 degrees, I'd like it to go to 120 at least. 3) The lifter is on point. It's so easy and works so well. But it's fastened to the right side of the Greenworks mo40l410 or something and the left side is just a taddd looser. Even though it has zero impact on performance or usability or comfort. I could notice. 4) I promise I'm not too lazy to bend over and swap batteries. But two live ports would be neat (even though I had plenty of battery left on the first battery haha (like I said, nitpicking!)). But I wouldn't be willing to pay much more if it raised the cost alot. The Pros: 1) I can't believe how easy it is to adjust. I have their corded Greenworks mo40l410 mower and I didn't think it could get any easier... and here I am being proven wrong. I don't know if I was just scarred by my old gas honda lawn mower or what, but that thing was an absolute pain to change the deck height. I used it alot on my corded version because if I'm going to be busy the next two weeks, I can just drop it a notch an go an extra couple days without mowing. Or If I know I'm going on a 2 week vacation next weekend, I can raise it since I'm going to mow again right before I leave. 2) I knew the big wheels would help, but they help more than I thought. I hope they last as long as short wheels, since the moment is higher on them in general. But I'm glad they upgraded the wheels. 3) 20" deck means a 19" inch blade iirc. I appreciate the large mowing swath. Not only did mowing go faster cause I wasn't messing with a cord, but I was cutting larger swaths than my old corded 16" lawn mower, so I was done in like 40% of the time that it normally takes me. 4) The 4Ah batteries are great. I can weedeat the front in one go with it. and then use the other battery to mow in one go with it. And they charge so fast too. Not that I've needed them to come off the charger and go straight to the yard, but it's nice having that option. 5) It's silly but the black with green trim color scheme looks legit. I like it better than the opposite that my corded lawn mower has. (green with black trim). 6) Also, it mows evenly forward and backwards. My old Greenworks mo40l410 lawn mower mowed about a third of an inch shorter when I pushed it forward than when I pulled it back (ostensibly because it was too light). So not only was I goofing around with the cord. But all even mowing had to be completed forwards. Not an issue with this Greenworks lawn mower. Overall I'm thoroughly satisfied with the Greenworks mo40l410. I'll comment back if longevity is ever an issue. But I expect a minimum of 5 years out of this guy... and I'd prefer if it was more like 10. That said, I'll cut the batteries some slack. I expect I'll buy a new pair in about 5 years to help me get to the EOL. They claim 2000 charges and I mow like once every 10 days during the summer... So maybe they'll go the full 10.

Rating: 5/5

[memorycapsules]

Zag on ‘Em

I’m excited for a lot of things right now and that’s making time move slowly...I’m at home right now, 3 days out from moving to the city.  Finishing up packing, visiting friends, and stopping by my old college campus this week.  I think it’ll be weird to be back there.  It feels like a lifetime away rather than just a year ago.  And I haven’t even done anything that crazy in that time.  I’ve been playing it safe this whole last year in going back to my same summerstock and in going back to PCPA.  Places I’ve been before and feel comfortable working in.  Doing stuff I’ve done before even if I know already that I want to try new things.  I can’t imagine how far away college will feel after this next year, where I’m finally taking twenty-serpentine to heart...

Let me use that as a springboard to describe those things I’m excited about.  Should make it evident that I’m kinda going off the rails in this upcoming year and it’s fucking thrilling.  Terrifying, don’t get me wrong.  But it’s making me grin just thinking about it and I’m doing it anyway.  I’m gonna make it fucking work for me.

Ahem.  Let’s start with the thing I’ve been writing about all summer:

Zag #1. Turning down that cruise (potential) offer to freelance in NYC

I remember saying in senior year that I thought it was crazy to move to the city without a job lined up because of how expensive it was to live there.  That was literally only one year ago and here I am doing the exact thing I was so opposed to then.  So what changed?  I’m sick of taking the safe and easy route.  PCPA was comfortable but it was more of the same thing I knew before moving out there, which is that I know I want to try something other than carpentry for a minute.  I can do carpentry but I don’t know if something else out there will make me more happy.  It’s like how I felt dating Joe... I didn’t feel unhappy, I just felt like maybe something better was out there, and boy fucking was there.  So why tf do I keep making that same choice?  Because it’s real hard to turn down stability.  Well.  Fuck that.  I’m gonna give freelancing a shot.  Actually try to go for the things I’ve been telling myself that one of these times I’ll do it.  Now is the time.

Alright, also something I’ve been writing about all summer.  I’m realizing I like to agonize about things before making a choice.  Hopefully I get better about trusting my gut even though it seems at face value like the risky choice.

Zag #2.  Deciding to share a bedroom with Tony. Aka, not holding back in a relationship because it’ll be easier that way to get over it if we break up.

Let me spell out on paper all the things that are wrong with this scenario, and therefore why it took me so long to decide that it was worth doing it anyway.

At the time of beginning to agonize over this, we’d only been together for 6 months.  And I didn’t even want to date him at the beginning.  I wanted to be single/have a fuck buddy but he made me realize that all the shit we were doing was literally the same as dating, I just hadn’t wanted to call it that.  And since I didn’t want it to stop, I begrudgingly agreed that yes, I guess we had been dating... Anyway, moving to the city to be with Tony and not only that but moving in with him again, and not only that but sharing a room with him this time...Does not sound like a good idea at all.  But we had just spent the last 6 months living together and we had no problems there.  And I was moving to the city because of my previously mentioned zag, and it just helped out a lot that I could move in somewhere with ready-made roommates and could have a cheaper rent than I would’ve otherwise.  It was good timing to do this right now because if I waited til after a cruise contract, it would’ve been super weird to move into the bedroom of an ex boyfriend.  By that I mean it wouldn’t have happened.  So now was good timing, and I did miss him a ton.  Saying goodbye in California was way harder than I anticipated.  I felt better deciding to do this because I wasn’t entirely moving there for him, although it is a big perk for sure.  Just one more very big thing to be excited about with this decision to move there.

What scares me a bit also though is how much I want to open myself up to him.  I’ve thought about him more seriously than anyone else I’ve dated, which feels dumb because we haven’t been together all that long.  I just really like trying to figure him out and hearing how he thinks because we’re such different people in a lot of ways.  I think if we were any more different than we are it would be too much and I wouldn’t feel like I could relate to him, but if we were too similar it would be like dating Josh and it would end up feeling too much like just a best friend in the world, and wouldn’t and up working out long term.  I mean I know things could end at any second and odds are always more likely for a relationship to end at some point rather than for it to go on, but thinking about some kind of life with him is really exciting.  I didn’t quite feel that way with Josh.  I felt like we could do it really well and be a great team but I didn’t really have any emotional response to it.  I don’t know why but with Tony I think it would be really fun.  Not saying I want anything to happen right now, I just wanna see how things go for a while first. Just sayin’, I’m interested.  I don’t know if it’s where I’m at now in life, that I finally have taken my self imposed “you’re a kid, you can’t make big decisions yet” blinders off, and am realizing the full potential I have to take charge in my life- but I feel like, why not open yourself up fully even if it might rip your heart out later?  He might end up being the guy you marry too, why not give it everything you’ve got?  Cause that’s what he seems to be doing for me too.  

Bleh, anyway:

Zag #3. Actually planning a trip to Europe with friends.

This is something I’ve been talking about with various friend groups since high school.  And it’s always been something I’ve wanted, but like I’ve said I had those blinders on and it didn’t really feel like something any of us would actually pull off.  But now I think we really can.  And I have a fantastic friend group to do it with.  Something about Sami and Andie actually making that trip to Charlottesville to visit me this summer makes me think they’ll pull through again and actually save for this trip to Spain we were all talking about yesterday.  Shaina has been trying to organize some sort of Europe trip since I think freshman year of college.  And she’s been out of the country a million times so I know she knows what she’s doing in terms of planning and budgeting.  The real kicker is that we’ll all have jobs that allow us to actually save up enough (I’m assuming my freelance stuff works out, give me this), and we’re young enough right now to not care about staying in cheap hostels. Saving $300/month for the next 10 months sounds reasonable, and I think we’re all genuinely serious about it.  And not like high school serious about it, where we couldn’t back these plans up. I mean achievably serious.  And I’m excited.

I thought last year was exciting, what with living in California for a year, and officially being on my own, and knowing that for once in my life I wasn’t going back to school at the end of the summer.  And it was, but by the end of it I was left wanting.  I felt like I had gotten complacent in California, like life was good but I wasn’t challenging myself or striving for anything I couldn’t easily achieve.  I felt like I had settled for a lot and like I was spinning my wheels and not going anywhere.  And I think those are fair assessments.  I also think I needed to feel that way in order to convince myself to jump into things like this.  Because I don’t think I was ready to make these kinds of choices this past year.  Otherwise I would’ve moved straight to the city like so many other people have done.  But I needed to feel that long term stretch of sameness and not moving up at all that came from Santa Maria to make me itch for a big city.  To make me know that my chance to try out different departments and go for those things I keep someday-ing lies in a major city.  My route to not being a sad TD for a regional theater in some land locked state lies in New York or Chicago or wherever else I end up.  The choices I’ve made this summer feels like jumping the tracks and getting me out of that rut that leads to regional TD-dom, that I just kept seeing myself trudging towards during college and in Santa Maria.  They’re me hatching, like Shaina said.  They’re me letting myself be an adult for the first time in my life, and loving- not without fear -but openly nonetheless, and chasing my gut feeling that a different department will hold more happiness for me.  They’re risky, but I feel so much happier even just knowing that I’m trusting in myself enough to take those risks anyway.  No matter what happens, and I know it could all go wrong, I’ll still be here and I’ll get through it.  If it comes down to it, I’ll stand up on the other side and make new plans from there.  

I’m ready to fight for this. Zag on ‘em.