#and so what if i did do drugs? i learned it from my ol' mama after all. drug addict extraordinaire!

[psychomachy-ador]

Iypophrenia III

( Michael Myers x Y/n)

Hi! Its been a bit since I posted the next part, but here it is! I do hope you enjoy reading this as I write it :) Let me know what ya’ll think and if i made any mistakes, I try to keep this story gender neutral as possible so all readers can enjoy.

Tw: self harm mentions, drug mentions

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"Now what the fuck are you doin'?" a kick to my foot and a bucket of water thrown at me, pulls me out of deep sleep to see a happy familiar face.

" You know I love your nature-obsessed ass, but this is just a bit dramatic even for your taste, don't ya think?" I crack an eyelid open and peer up at a friendly face.

"Oh well isn't it God's favorite creature, James? What bridge did you crawl out of to end up on my stoop?" He laughs heartedly, a loud laugh that everyone on the street can feel in their hearts. A laugh the gods could envy, a laugh that brings greenback to the loneliest of winters.

"Well Honey Dearest, where'd your accent go? That's the only thing I liked that you got from mama! Could be silenced from the death inside ya!" He grabs me by the arm pulling me up off my feet and into a bear hug, twirling us around as if he's just come back from war when really, we saw each other a couple of weeks ago, but he's always been the one with attachment issues; like I'm one to talk though.

I laugh with him and punch his arm once he lets me down, "Listen 'ere, I'm no more dead inside than you! Don't tell me what else I got from that woman before I ban you from this lawn."

He ruffles my hair before giving me his cheeky smile, fingers crossed raised high; our sign of a promise.

Before going inside, he helps pick the leaves out of my hair and clothes, a nature cracks every few seconds till we were inside. He kicks his shoes to the side and looks at the carnage around my home. He stares till he continues his way to my kitchen probably waiting for when to bring it up if I didn't. I don’t plan to but I know he will pry it out of me some way.

He jumps up on my kitchen counter beaming that big ole smile of his, "So where you been at, Dearest? You haven't returned a single one of my texts, had me thinking you pulled a Ricky." I couldn't help but snort, Ricky was an inside joke of a somewhat childhood friend we had who died of causes unknown to us at that age, but years later we found out he was strangled. Morbid humor but to be fair, the kid was always bullying the quiet ones on the street. He bullied one so badly he just stopped talking, I haven't seen that kid since those days but James says the last time, he saw him was in the crowd surrounding Ricky's ambulance with a blank look on his face. Rumor was that maybe he killed Ricky after another session of teasing, though that didn't matter anymore because his daddy went down for the deed anyway, now livin' it up in prison despite the lack of evidence. The dad was a nice guy, it was a real damn shame. He used to drop off food to us or let us sleep over when mama disappeared for days, hence how we were somewhat familiar to Ricky.

For the boy that was his biggest target, I never took that youngin for a killer to be honest. He was a mousey one who seemed more indifferent to the gossiping than hurt by it and what a rare sight that was in that town. I only spoke to him once when Ricky put a stick between his wheels causing him to practically fly off the thing. Rick had a riot over the ordeal but the boy didn't make a sound at all and that pissed Ricky off. After a kick to the boy's stomach, he ran off with his friends who hid in a bush further up the street.

I was sitting on my porch to avoid another one of my mamas' tantrums when I saw it all go down, I wish I at least threw a rock at Rick but I was raised to mind my own business even if it was murder or my mamas' nails will find a way to dig into your skin, till you learned it all over again.

James always came home with busted lips and scrapes that made me carry every form of bandages I could get my hands on from the nurse's office. Prepared, I went over with the few bandages in my pocket and cleaned him up as best as I could on the sidewalk. If I must be honest it's one of the few memories I hold onto dearly to this day, one of few that left me warm and fuzzy inside for a long time. Do you know those memories with a playground crush that never seem to leave you? You could be washing dishes and bam, you're transported back to it. You can't help but imagine what could've been or what was, left me wondering what could've been with him...

"You'd be happy if I kicked the rusty bucket, wouldn't you? Then you'd get my Salem."

"Yeah, a real original name, by the way, Sabrina." He sticks his tongue out before jumping to the ground, "Where's my baby anyways? She's too much of a brat for the outside."

I bite my lip in guilt, cursing my damned self for forgetting about her in the past few days. She probably ran off after that bastard showed up. Fuck, where is she?

" I haven't seen her lately... She might've run off after..." Should I tell him? Is it worth making a fuss over? Of course, it is, but is it worth dragging him into this mess? His skin has never looked better and I haven't seen him this happy in a while.

"After what?" His brows now knotted, I put on my smile and wave my hand.

"Ah, it's nothing. Some creep came by and it probably spooked her. I'm sure she's hiding around here or she's outside making friends. I'll leave a window open for her."

"A creep, eh? You sure it wasn't one of your little friends with a bad streak? Your place was never known to be neat, but it's in rougher shape than usual for me to believe it was some Jehovah's Witness." He's known me since birth, and yet my lies never pass him. How I love him with every fiber of my existence, but now I hate him sticking his nose deeper into problems I want him out of.

I clap my hands together and straighten up, making a dash the fridge for whatever baked goods I made while out of it.

"You know coffee cake is my weakness! It'll be an overdue sleepover!" Not quite overdue; it's only been a few weeks of much-needed space from one another especially after the bridge. Down in the city, under a bridge a place for people like us. Different faces, different cries but all the same desire in the air; the need for a fucking fix.

"Remember how Mama would make coffee cake every morning? I seem to have picked up that habit myself, so now I've got more than I can eat. I'll give you a few of them to take home and you can stay the night if that comforts you. I'm sure the Jehovah's Witnesses will run from one look at ya!" He glared for a few seconds, searching for the truth but debating if he should fight me on this.

He lit up and pulled me into his arms, taking the plate in his other hand. This isn't him giving this up forever, just for now.

“Oh yeah before I forget to mention, I found this next to you but I moved it away before it got splashed on.” He reaches his pockets to pull out a small teddy bear with a few bandages to use, it was dirty and on the verge of tatters.

“You seeing somebody?”

I scoffed at him and grabbed the bear away from him, “Yeah right who would in the right mind do that?”

“Well Honey Dearest, I couldn't help but notice some bruising on that neck of yours.”

Bruising? What is he on-

in an instant, my body flares up leaving me pinker than fancy lemonade as the memories glide through my mind.  

“Before you get any more color pinky, just know I'm not judging! If anything, I'm happy for you as long as their name isn't skeeter or Beth Anne like last time.”

“I was 14 when those two happened, you asshat! This bruisin is just from a curling iron, sometimes getting dolled up is more dangerous than it looks.” He raises an eyebrow at me smirking away, “Alright Dearest, I'll believe your story for today. Why don’t you wash that nature away while I clean up your place? I promise not to snoop.” with a raise of his hand, fingers crossed and a big smile on his face.

I smiled back and hugged him tightly, “Thanks Jamesy...” He ruffles my hair as I take my leave to the bathroom. I stop at the sight of the mirror and undress to examine the damage along my skin. Tracing each fresh cut and bruise old or new, I practically get lost in my reflection or more so lost in my flaws. Lost in words, drawings, and tallies carved into me from years and years with her...

How’d I gone from the picture of beauty to this? I shouldn’t say that to myself, it is not my flaws are that terrible but I know they wouldn’t be here if I just stopped being a hopeless popper...stop being Ike her.

I run the hot water to sink into the bath, to scrub all the dirt and dried blood from myself. I sink deeper and deeper into the water for all thoughts to pull away from me, for to float my entire being instead of clouding my mind. The emptiness of my mind leads me to drift away to another place for the next few hours, somewhere other than this reality, secretly hoping ill drown within my sleep but that wouldn't be fair for the only one who cares about me...

But I awoke alive and freezing with my mouth only being the part of my face engulfed by water, unfortunately. From behind the door, I could hear snoring and view a shine of light from the television coming underneath the door from the living room.

Grudgingly, I lift myself out and put on my pajamas I grab from the dirty hamper. I need to make time for laundry.

Stepping out I see James passed out on the couch watching a rerun of Three’s company as I sit to join him. Feels like the old days again… actually, If I may say, it's like we’re stunted in those days where we only had each other. Us against the world and telling everyone around us to fuck off because nights and days like these were all we needed to feel safe.

On the couch, my grandma's crocheted blanket wrapped around my legs, It doesn’t take long to pick up the bruised-up bear and sew him back together. I gave him little touches to finish with love like an embroidered heart. As my brother snores away beside me, I can't help but get lost in the thought of the night before.

I stare down at the bear, a smile forming as I stroke its face, tracing its features imagining it was Michael.

That night he was really fucking seething by my attempt to rid his mask, choosing to distract me with love bites than attempt again. Teasing bastard, what did he expect? Anyone would wanna see how the famous Michael has been holding up after all those attempts Loomis has done to rid him. I guess that was rude of me he must wear it for a reason but fucker slashed at me, how can I stay nice?

I groan loudly bringing the bear to my face to lock eyes with dark orbs, “What to do, what to do…”

THUD.

I jolt up and look to where the sound came from to see Salem licking her paws by the window. I relax, eyes adjusting to the dark areas when I gasp and scramble to my feet.

There he stands, towering everything around him in the damned corner again. How the hell does he get in?!

I debate on running but I couldn’t leave James behind, waking him is barely an option he is such a deep fucking sleeper he wakes on his own time.

“ Please, I don’t know why you came again but just…not today, not him. Please don’t lay a hand on him.” I whispered, standing Infront of James blocking him from Michael. Despite my shaking, I stand my ground fists at my side trying to find eyes to lock with.

Knife in hand he strides effortlessly to me, not a damn falter in his step. As I look up at the man trying to hold any intimidation I could hope to show but that faded fast as he raises the blade.

With a wince I turn my head away, arms raised shaking to block whatever pain will come down on me but as long as James has a running start that's all that matters. He’s the one who had a brighter chance than I, it’d be corrupted if I was to save myself beside him.

As I count my hail marys to a being I haven’t spoken to in ages, a metallic sound hits beside my toes.

“E-eh?” I open my eyes to look above but the figure that stood taller than my nightmares has come down to his knees. Before I could find the right emotion for this moment a pair of arms wrap around me tightly, head nuzzling against my stomach, practically inhaling the scent of my shirt as if it were a drug; I couldn’t find the words. Who would? Why question it and piss him off though

Slowly, terrified and full of hesitancy I bring my hands to his hair. He jolts for a second, I almost screamed at that but he relaxes once I begin to play and brush his locks.

Yesterday, I was running along with my house like a pig to the slaughter and today I’m embraced as if I was salvation left standing. I honestly can’t tell if this is reality or if I’ve had a psychotic break finally. I know there’s too much evidence this isn’t a dream but this is such a cracked moment. A killer is literally in my arms, would you believe this was real?

Out of all the people to fall upon it had to be me. Why must I be the one to suffer whiplash from this boogeyman?

I pull him closer as his grip tightens around my waist closing any distance there could possibly be between us.

“Hey… thank you for the bear.” He looks up at me and there’s that feeling again.

His eyes.

The anger that sent flames through my veins igniting my dull heart, a fire I could get dance within but today a glimmer shines behind that anger. The warmth isn’t fiery, if anything this feels like your fourth shot after a breakup. A comforting fire within you, one you can’t imagine letting go of because it’s the only solace you have in this lifetime.

I bring my hands to the sides of his mask and bend down slightly to place our foreheads together. I don’t want to forget the art of his eyes I need to etch it into my mind, whether it be in my dreams or the haze states I can remember the pure beauty of his emotions that shine through these eyes. The battle of rage and humanity, a sight to see within one mind is captivating.

“Beautiful…” his eyes widened for the slightest of seconds and for a few moments he didn’t turn away from me. We stay lost in a moment of time together, heartbeats in sync as the clock ticks away. The moment is short-lived once he pulls away to grab for his knife.

He stands tall once again and points it at my neck, leaving me to shut my eyes tight.

You fucking idiot did you forget who you were petting? By the gods, how can you be so careless with your life and James?

The knife stayed at the nape of my neck, pressure slightly prodding only to be snatched away after blood slips out thru my new wound.

Tears swim at the rim of my bloodshot eyes, as I look up at him shaking like a brittle leaf on a dead tree. He takes a step back away from me but I grab his other hand pulling him back to me, “No don’t run again, tell me why me! Tell me why you keep letting me fucking life! Kill me or leave me, Myers! I can’t be whatever you want me to be if not dead.” He snatches his hand away and by the sound of murmuring behind me, he takes off once again except this time I get to see him storm out my front door and for once slam it behind him.

“Mmm…What’re you yellin and hitting bout? It's half past 1 am…” James rubs his eyes and tugs my shirt towards the couch, “Go to bed ya lunatic.”

I'm left agape from a moment gone sour and confusing in the blink of an eye. I can’t do this shit anymore, Either I push him to kill me or I fucking move out. I don’t want to do this anymore…

“Just another pill episode Jamesy, like mama used to have…Don’t worry about it.” I brush his hair back and kiss his head, before grabbing Salem to go sleep this all away once again.

Like the fucking Twilight Zone.

[thedappleddragon]

hooooo my fucking god I don't know why but recently my anxiety/sence of dread has SKYROCKETED in the last 3 days, I haven't been sleeping great and last night I had an anxiety dream about manning the register at work. idk I guess today was fine but im so fucking overstimulated I guess?? I seriously just dont fuking know. but anyway here’s a summary of some days that I may or may not remember. putting it under the cut

Wednesday I was exited to work, they didn’t need me, I hung out with my friends at their outdoor band concert and had boba and it got super cold out

Thursday I went with my dad to drop off a car, then we had breakfast together at a little restaurant I had never been to before. He told me about his childhood n stuff. Then I went to work and priced things outside and felt good about helping some people buy plants even tho I didn’t know exactly what I was doing and ended up handing them off to Becky anyway. Got off work, came home, hung out waiting to be able to go visit my friend but she took a while so dad and I made the snack he had a lot as a kid which was just handmade chocolate frosting on graham crackers. Eventually my friend got home so I grabbed one of those graham crackers in some Tupperware and some other stuff and headed out. It was a longer drive than I was expecting but eh whatever, I got there no problem with a bunch of dad’s shit in the back of the car. We had awkward hellos in her apartment and I pet her fat ass cat until she suggested we go thrifting and oh my god I had never wanted to go thrifting more in my life than right then. I had one of those moments where I realized oh I’m an adult who can go out and just DO things :D so we walked around and gossiped in goodwil and had a great time until they closed, whereupon steph frantically looked for anything that was open near us while I drove around. We settled on going to a little park nearby, where we climbed on the tube with holes on it and swung on the swings. Then we walked around a dense tree/brush like and into the middle of a field, having our main character moments as we walked to the top of a hill with a cross on it. I took a picture of the sunset and a selfie with both of us before we walked back through the field and drove back to her apartment. I gave her 2 tiny flower jars and she let me borrow her container of earring hardware and a bunch of different tiny things to make into earrings. I had a great time and I’d love to hang out again, maybe when everything isn’t closed lmao. We joked a lot about understanding why people do drugs lmao since there’s nothing else to do! everything’s closed!! Also some joke flirting mixed in for flavor. We have an excuse to hang out again so I can return her earring supplies and she can return my Tupperware lol. I thought my phone was going to die on the way home before I realized there was a charging cord in the car! Nice. Got home, watched my friend stream plasmaphobia for a bit while I finished a birthday gift, and hung out and slept when she quit streaming. 

Friend’s birthday party day!! Also dad moving day!! The first task of the day was to drive with my dad down to the nearest uhaul to pick up a big ol’ truck, and follow him home in the car while he lead the way in the truck. Then we brought his car full of shit to the apartment, got his key and paid his first month, and looked through everything to do inspection. Tbh it’s a pretty nice apartment, I’d love to spend some time there once it’s a bit more furnished. My favorite part is a Harry Potter style hidey hole closet that’s meant for storage, but it’s the perfect size for a secluded hangout spot for me. I’ll totally let him use it for storage if he wants, I just like sitting in there. I joked that I would let Emily hang out in the spare bedroom and I could get the tiny room. But we spent time cleaning and looking around and bringing in boxes before dad sent me to pick up lunch, my sister, and another car load of boxes. I left to do all 3 and came back with Mcallisters, and we all sat on the floor and ate together. A very nice way to break in a new apartment. We brought in boxes and dad sent us on a quest to pick up a car part and drop it off where the car we dropped off the day before. We got there just fine, but getting to the second location was a nightmare because of all my wrong turns and u turns and no left turns, it was awful. I mean we got there eventually but still. By then it was time for me to get home so I could wash my hair and get ready for the party!! I got everything ready, but my sister wouldn’t be home with the car on time, so I just took my mom’s van. I was on time for once!! But in exchange I didn’t realize I had forgotten Cassidy’s gift until I was like 3 minutes away. But also I found driving my moms van very easy compared to last time I tried to drive it, and I think I’m a much more confident driver now :) but I was one of the first to arrive, accidentally twinned with cass, waited for everyone to show up, met her new dog, and then we all packed up the picnic basket and walked to the top of a hill to have our little sandwiches and play cards against humanity. On the walk there we passed by a park where little kids were asking why we were all dressed up if it wasn’t Halloween, so I shouted at them that it was her birthday and handed them the branch I was carrying. We played CAH on the hill and ate little sandwiches and meatballs and drank sparkling juice and had a lovely time, and when we were done, we walked back to her house where there was pizza and we all changed out of our formal wear. My bra was sewed into my dress with 6 stitches, so I grabbed some scissors and flashed my friend’s cat as I cut my bra free of the dress because I forgot to bring an extra. I changed into my ghostbusters shirt and snake onesie and joined everyone outside for pizza and lots and lots of stories and ice cream cake and gossip and quiplash and balloons and gifts and CAH and friends leaving and new friends arriving and more quiplash and then the grass getting cold and wet and going ham on keeping the balloons up and then playing that’s what she said (basically CAH but ✨for women ✨) and by this time there was a dude I didn’t know but he was very nice and cute and already taken. Tbh I didn’t know half the people there, there was a group of 4 cool alt people I had never met and then the 4 band kids I already knew but everyone else seemed to know each other and they all had great energy so I yelled a lot and joked a ton and had an amazing time. As the crowd dwindled and the night got cooler, I helped put things away before I left so I could be a nice guest, said my goodbyes, gathered my things, and drove home past midnight. Ask walked around the house turning off lights like my mom asked, I realized that my dad wouldn’t be sleeping here anymore, and I felt bad that he had to spend the night all alone in his new apartment :( and this is going to be a huge financial burden that idk if he can afford, rent for the apartment is almost as much as my mom pays for the house. Jejdjgjt this is all a mess and I would like to go back to ignoring it all <3 Listened to a lot of two trucks by lemon demon lmao

Hoo boy howdy I did a lot of shit today. Basically as soon as I woke up I got a text from dad about us helping him move with a promise of donut holes and a fruit platter. I walked out to the garage to find our family friends the drakes helping to move boxes, so we all spent several hours loading boxes into our cars and driving back and forth from the house to the apartment, with emily and I avoiding the drakes as much as possible lmao. When we had moved as much as we could in the car, we started loading up the uhaul, shoving as much shit in there as possible so we only had to do one trip there and back. Partially through unloading the truck the drakes stopped cleaning things before we brought them in left and some randos from dad’s work came to help unload and somewhere in the middle of all this our aunt and uncle and her service dog came to visit?? Bruh idk so much stuff happened. Emily asked me to take her home so she could work on school stuff and we put things back into the garage and I went back to the apartment to help with stuff and hang out with my aunt while my dad and uncle returned the truck. We made a list of stuff I might need for college and I wrote it down on a notepad and most of the page space was taken up by ponies tbh. The men brought back burger king and eventually my aunt and uncle left. I helped my dad clean up and set up his wifi and we watched mama Mia. It was my first time seeing the film, and it was really dang fun. Then I made dad drive me ho e since emily was still gone with the silver car. I’ll spend he night over there eventually, but not yet. I’m exited to eventually invite friends over since I’ve never been able to do that before. So now I’m home trying g to go to sleep so I can work tomorrow. I keep thinking about smoking weed and making out with someone in the hidey hole in dad’s apartment............ even tho I have literally no one to do that with afsagssg I’m a CHILD. 

Had dreams last night about being stuck on the infinity train again, except there was a mechanic of switching the world between 2d and 3d and the cast of Bluey had to help bingo go through stages of grief / character moments to help her get off the train or something. I was tossing and turning for a few hours anxiously waking up thinking I was gonna be late and going back to bed so I could sleep/dream more. But then I finally got up, fed my cat, fed myself, helped clean the kitchen a little bit, got ready for work, arrived 15 minutes late on accident, worked register for 6 hours, got more comfortable with register and learned how to do stuff, lots of friendly people, lots of me struggling and my bones hurting, dad brought me food but I couldn’t get to my lunch break until everything was room temperature. The chicken sandwich reheated well but the fries did not. After work dad and I stopped by the house, I got an info card to fill out so I can be called in for jury duty eventually, dad handed me $50 for dinner for us and my sister, we laid on the floor and looked at the noodles and company menu, drove there, picked up our food, had a lovely dinner at dad’s apartment, laid around while he talked to Greg on the phone, went to target to pick up small apartment things like a clock and a trash can and some small groceries but it made me nervous because I hate spending money and watching my dad spend money he may or may not have, and by then we were tired as shit and after dropping his stuff off emily and I drove home and I tried teaching her how to crochet for a school project. Now I’m hanging out wanting to go to bed and thinking about how everybody else my age working at ACE is doing like 60 hours a week with 2 jobs and saving for college and I’m just sitting here with probably 14 hours a week and fuck. I don’t want to spiral into shit, I just want to keep busy as much as possible. Maybe I’ll ask for as many work hours as possible, maybe I’ll ask my friends to hang out, idk. Right now I jut want to be busy so I don’t have to think about anything. I’ll spend as much time as possible helping my dad set up his apartment, I don’t care.

WAAAAA TODAY AT WORK WAS SO STRESSFUL, I LEFT FELLNG SO FRAZZLED IT SUCKED. basically I worked register for 4 hours but they’re all trying to ween me off asking for help to get me more comfortable, and we were surprisingly busy, and my garden boss becky asked me to do 2 extra things and my boss boss kept asking about paperwork that I couldn't fill out because I needed my sister to text me something, and an old man got mad at me over the phone because no-one was out there to fill his propane tank and I had a lady waiting for 10 minutes for someone to help load salt into her car and a middle aged man tried to use sarcasm at me while I was in friendly cashier mode aND IM SORRY I HAVE ADHD I DONT GET IT PLEASE S T O P and I tried answering the phone more and I didnt get the things done that becky asked and I left shit there because I just wanteD OUT. afterwards I went to target to get something, idk im writing this afterwards so I not really remember 

and today, my day off. ugh god I dont remember what I did, I know I picked up a vent for my mom’s bathroom and I just went to go get Taco Bell with my sister and bought her some more about crocheting and she’s making progress :) tomorrow is my friend’s birthday and last year I made her a felt doll of her fursona, so today I started making a crochet doll for her. so far I have the body and libs, but I still need to make the muzzle, tail, ears, attach everything, and hand-sew on all the markings and glue on button eyes. or maybe felt eyes, idk. my stomach hurts and I got upset because I told my mom my cat may be sick because her pee looked suspicious so I crocheted and watched my little pony and now I have a headache and im just trying to listen to music but really I just want to watch 50 arms videos at once but it wasn't loading right and idk man I dont know what’s happening, I may be going into work tomorrow. I think now that I have a job to do 3-4 times a week, I dont feel like I can just chill and wing it anymore, it’s like I have plans forever now. and oh god I still have to sig up for college orientation night or whatever, but my mind hasn'tt been on college for like a month or longer. I think im just going to take some Advil and try to relax with my cat and my music. holy shit dude. I know none’s gonna read this but just. fuck. also I should really post these more frequently rather than let them pile up in my texts. thinking about going back and adding all the dates like I did with my early quarantine diary, but that feels like a lot of work

[wigwurq]

WIG REVIEW: THE QUEEN’S GAMBIT

Yes it’s true - the only things I’ve been watching lately are prestige TV shows starring women with bad red wigs. I’ll get back to movies someday!! In the meantime, I finally watched all of this miniseries that has Netflix and the world aflame with love - and I am aflame too....WITH HATRED OF ALL OF THESE WIGS!!! I have so much to discuss with this show, y’all. A friend of mine (who hasn’t watched this show yet) probably said it best when he told me he thought the wigs in this show were supposed to be wigs WITHIN the narrative of the show (and therefore allowed to be bad): “wait I thought this was about a chess spy - that’s supposed to be her real hair? NO” INDEED!!! Let’s take it episode by episode (SPOILERS ABOUND) and DISCUSS.

Episode 1 - Openings

We begin in Paris, 1967. Beth Harmon, chess champion (?) awakens in a bath of ice (?) in the dark of her hotel room, clearly hung over or maybe still drunk. Her red ‘60s flip wig looks like HELL as does she, so...ok I guess this bad wig wurqs...for now. She sits herself down to play CHESS!! This whole show is about chess, obviously, and everyone is just mad about chess now! I am mad, too, because the show does not make chess seem interesting or sexy and I still hate it. 

Anyway, we rewind about 10 (?) years to a young Beth Harmon, who is suddenly orphaned after her mom definitely commits suicide via car accident. Her mom has super short bangs and cries a lot. We see some even further flashbacks to an even younger Beth IN THE MOST OUTRAGEOUS BABY WIG (MORE ON THAT LATER). We learn that her mom is very unhinged, but also probably brilliant, as Beth herself will become later. LET’S HOPE SHE NEVER GETS HER DRIVER’S LICENCE (note: she never does?)

Apparently the mid to late ‘50s were all about very VERY short bangs, and on this non-wigged little girl I guess that is fine.

BUT THEN! She is brought to an orphanage where they burn her old clothes (YES REALLY!) and cut her hair into a bob (the kid’s actual hair so again - ok!) and also give her and all the other girls constant drugs! The 1950s were really wild, amiright? If I have learned anything from movies set at orphanages in the 50s, drug abuse was the main issue (the only movie I’m referring to is obviously The Cider House Rules and the only thing I remember about that movie is that Michael Caine had an ether addiction). Anyway, the sedative drugs make her immediately put her hand on a hot radiator (safety first, orphanage!) 

She also makes friends with an older girl named Jolene (I LOVE THE NAME) who teachers her to save the sedative drugs for nighttime when they can help her sleep. Great advice, Jolene! Also: there is absolutely no way that African American Jolene would be in an integrated orphanage in mid-50s KENTUCKY but this is just the beginning of issues I have with this series......

Moving on! In avoiding the orphanage’s weird insistence on Jesusy choir practice, she discovers the basement realm of janitor Bill Camp, who never actually does any janitorial work (that I could see?) but definitely plays a lot of chess. And thus, her chess obsession begins! This is also helped by those sedatives she takes every night which give her really absurd chess hallucinations on the ceiling. This orphanage has it all!

Essentially, this miniseries is Valley of the Dolls if those characters got addicted to both pills and chess at the age of 9. Beth gets very VERY good at chess and some rando chess guy from the local high school comes and gives Beth a doll (BETH HATES THE DOLL BUT LOVES DOLLS DO YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE). And she goes to the high school and plays a bunch of terrible high school boys at chess simultaneously and beats them all. Also: the orphanage suddenly gets in trouble for giving sedatives to small children for years and Beth is PISSED. She goes through withdrawal and years for the big ol’ jar o’ pills!!!

AND THEN! During a kind of Jesusy film presentation, Beth sneaks away to the orphanage pharmacy and just goes hog wild on the pills! TRULY: Valley of the Dolls has nothing on this sequence. 

Obviously, Beth is caught pill-handed and she also spills all the pills, breaks a giant glass jar, and then falls onto both of them. SHE IS 9. I THINK I LOVE THIS SHOW.

Episode 2: Exchanges

So after Beth’s completely insane pill odyssey, she is punished by being forbidden to play chess! Fast forward an indeterminate number of years, and we meet a slightly older Beth (now played by the bewigged Anya Taylor-Joy). AND THIS WIG, Y’ALL. WOOF. Completely dried out and bent, it really makes you appreciate the fact that they just cut the younger Beth’s hair. I realize that Anya is going to go through many 50s and 60s hairstyles to come but I really wish they had just done the same and used her real hair because we are about to take a bad wig odyssey that will last throughout this series. Also! I love that Jolene is played by the same actress! How old is too old to be in an orphanage?

Speaking of age! Beth is apparently now 15 but when a super weird couple expresses interest in adopting her, the orphanage director lady lies and says Beth is 13 and everyone just goes with it....FOR THE REST OF THE SERIES. Seriously, this age difference is never ever visited again or challenged. Beth is basically 15-17 for at least 5 years and no one gives a shit. OK? Anyway, Beth is adopted by Marielle friggin Heller (aka director of Can You Ever Forgive Me? and A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood) who has a very Mamie Eisenhower wig which is just fine compared to the bent and dry-ass mess on Anya’s head.

It is later revealed that Marielle adopted Beth because her husband is mainly away on business and she needs an older gal pal around to fetch her....sedatives from the magazine store! I wonder if Beth will totally get addicted to them again! I’m no chess player but you can absolutely predict plot devices in this series about two pawns away (is that a chess term? I still don’t know or care!) 

So yes: as predicted Beth absolutely gets addicted to sedatives again (also the specific sedatives she gets addicted to are the exact same ones she was addicted to at the orphanage - WHAT A COINCIDENCE! - and also they are made up sedatives for the purposes of this show only in case we all want to get the same magical chess sedatives and see chess on the ceiling too). ALSO! Beth is still mainly addicted to chess despite the fact that she was permitted from playing it for the last 5-7 years (depending on what version of her age you’re going on?) but still is good at it? Most upsetting: she rips apart her lovely bed canopy in order to see her ceiling chess hallucinations! THE NERVE OF THIS KID!

Also nervy: bitch totally stole chess magazines from the pharmacy when she was also stealing sedatives from her adoptive mom! Kleptomania is Beth’s #3 addiction after chess and pills also comes into play when it is revealed that her new adoptive mom is kinda poor since her husband is away all the time and doesn’t give her enough money so Beth can’t enter those chess tournaments she read about in the magazines she stole. SO she writes to janitor Bill Camp and asks for $5 to enter the chess thing and if she wins she’ll send him $10. THIS IS A VERY IMPORTANT PLOT POINT WHICH WILL COME INTO PLAY LATER. So Beth goes to the chess tournament where she meets some not handsome twin dudes and a very handsome other dude named Townes.

Basically all the chess dudes at this tourney suck in the same way? To be fair: if I saw Beth walking up in her ugly orphanage clothes and orphanage cut wig, I would think she sucked at chess too? Oh also - all the girls at her new high school also think her style sucks. I WONDER IF IN COMING EPISODES SHE WILL GAIN MORE STYLE AND CHESS FAME THAN ALL THESE GARBAGE PEOPLE. Spoiler: she does and also beats this dude named Harry and becomes the Kentucky chess champion. Also! Beth’s adoptive dad totally abandons her and Marielle Heller!  I still hate chess but will continue to watch this show because of its haunting wigs and lowgrade feminist vibe.

Episode 3: Doubled Pawns

This episode begins with a flashback to Beth’s shitty birth mother and her shitty banged wig and remember that time I said I was going to talk about the wig on the littlest girl who plays her? WELL HERE WE ARE. Baby Beth has the absolute WORST WIG ON THIS SHOW and given how terrible all the wigs are, that is saying a lot. This wig looks like it was ripped off an American Girl doll which had been mistreated for years and thrown of a jungle gym or something. IT IS THE ABSOLUTE WORST (as is her mom, who makes this poor kid believe she had drowned!!!) 

ANYWAY. We get a new wig in this episode!!! Beth manages to grow out her orphanage bangs and allow her hair to have a 50s wave bob. Do not be fooled by the higher quality of this cut, however - the quality of the WIG continues to very much suck! WHAT IS THIS HAIR PART! No hair underneath! And everything is still a dried out, bent mess! ALSO HER ROOTS ARE A NIGHTMARE. This is also the episode wherein Marielle Heller basically becomes Mama Rose to Beth and really gets into Beth supporting both of them via chess winnings and becomes her chess manager (ACTUAL JOB TITLE). Also Beth gets nicer clothing. Hilariously, Marielle tells Beth’s high school that Beth is just constantly sick so she can skip school to go to chess tournaments even though Beth is straight up on the cover of Life magazine?! I wonder if this will at all come to the attention of the high school - IT DOESN’T! PLOT HOLES BE DAMNED THIS SHOW IS ABOUT CHESS! She does go to high school long enough for the snobby girls who once made fun of her to invite her to the dumbest party ever where they just sit around and ask Beth dumb questions about Chess fame and then all have a sing-along to a song Beth doesn’t know because she has no idea what pop culture is: ONLY CHESS CULTURE. I watched this show with my mom and asked if ‘60s parties were like this and she laughed her head off and said NO. ALSO! Beth’s kleptomania comes into play at this party where she steals a bottle of gin and leaves without saying goodbye to anyone. WHAT A BITCH.

Speaking of bitches, Beth meets a new chess diva in the form of Love Actually’s resident child drum prodigy! He has a character name but whatever: Love Actually is his name and he has longish shaggy (non wigged) hair and dresses like Crocodile Dundee and is loved and feared in the chess community for being such a non-nerd (?) chess player. I asked my mom if anyone dressed like this in the ‘60s and she said “NO! But I guess I didn’t know everyone” WHICH IS A GREAT ANSWER BECAUSE MY MOM DIDN’T RUN IN WEIRD CHESS CIRCLES IN THE ‘60s. We are lead to believe the ‘60s chess community of weirdos consists of the same 5 rotating dudes who are all at the same chess tournaments always and also possible love interests for Beth and she’s better at chess than all of them.

The only weirdo chess dude that Beth cares about is Townes, who you may recall from the last episode in which he was the only attractive chess dude at that first chess tournament Beth went to with borrowed Bill Camp money. Anyway, she runs into him at some chess tournament (LIKE I REMEMBER WHICH ONE PLEASE) in Las Vegas where he is now a chess reporter (ACTUAL 1960s JOB, Y’ALL). He invites Beth back to his hotel boudoir where he takes some non-boudoir pictures of her playing chess and Beth is all aflutter with chess love but SUCK IT BETH, TOWNES IS GAY!!! I have to say that the only believable part of this show is that the only attractive chess dude would be homosexual. It still does not forgive any of the other plot nonsense.

SO! It’s still the big Vegas chess tournament which is super duper important-chess wise (though this show also makes it seem like every chess game IS THE MOST IMPORTANT so who is to say?) Anyway, Beth and her 50s wave wig (even though it is the 60s?) play Love Actually and....they both win? I didn’t know this was a chess pastability but ok? Beth is pissed that she didn’t beat Love Actually, I hope I never have to see him again (SPOILER HE’S IN MANY MORE EPISODES AND HAD I KNOWN THAT MAYBE I WOULD HAVE STOPPED WATCHING NOW BUT I DIDN’T!) 

Episode 4: Middle Game

We are still stuck with this weird ‘50s bob in this episode. IT STILL LOOKS BAD. New developments are: Beth is taking night classes at the local college (even though she is technically still in high school?) in order to learn Russian to better understand people who are more obsessed with chess than she is: Russians. Anyway, he ends up going to the most wild and stereotypical hippie party with a college dude after class and yep - loses her virginity to him. Ok? At least it wasn’t to a chess weirdo? She also stays behind and parties and drinks alone in the hippie apartment because of all her substance addiction and kleptomania. Also! She graduates from high school despite being 2 years too old for high school (a plot point never explained) and missing all that high school for chess tourneys (another plot point never explained!) OH WELL: CHESS! 

Beth and Marielle go to Mexico City for some chess tournament (AGAIN I COULDN’T TELL YOU WHICH ONE). Marielle is excited because she is pen pals (OMG THE 60s Y’ALL) with some Mexican weirdo who I definitely feared would steal all the chess winnings but then ultimately just sucks in the same way the adoptive dad did. Beth also runs into those chess twin weirdos because the chess community is comprised of only 5 dudes as I said. Their hair looks bad but not as bad as her wig. 

Beth doesn’t see much of Mexico City - nor do we unless you count a truly outrageous sequence in which Beth and Marielle go out on their hotel balcony and look into a green screen rendering of Mexico City that would have felt at home in CGI ghostmare, Bohemian Rhapsody. Anyway, Beth and her olde timey 1950s wig which is spending way too much time in the 60s even though she’s supposed to be stylish now, take a lot of chess baths while Marielle drinks a lot because that Mexican pen pal/boyfriend sucks so bad.

So Beth wins enough chess to play Borgov, who we are led to believe is the Russian white whale/Bond villain of the chess community and LOSES! She is pretty pissed about it but not as pissed as...

....coming back to the hotel room to discover Marielle Heller and her luscious Mamie Eisenhower wig DEAD. TWICE AN ORPHAN, Y’ALL. Mexican coroners tell Beth that her mom died of hepatitis (!!!) and Beth somehow implicates low quality tequila in this hepatitis death. I LEGITIMATELY GOOGLED ‘DOES TEQUILA GIVE YOU HEPATITIS’ IMMEDIATELY. I DON’T THINK IT DOES?!?!?! THIS SHOW IS ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS AND YES I WILL CONTINUE WATCHING IT DESPITE THE TERRIBLE WIGS AND MY HATRED OF CHESS.

Episode 5: Fork

Beth returns to Kentucky IN THE RAIN BECAUSE TV AND MOVIE DEATHS ARE ALWAYS ACCOMPANIED BY RAIN. She is about to be super lonely in the house she know owns (according to a super sketchy international phone call with her adoptive father which will definitely not hold up in court) and then...she gets a call from Harry! WHO THE EFF IS HARRY! Again, luckily, there are only 5 chess guys who need to remember and he is one of them (he is the one she beat for the Kentucky chess whatever in episode 2). She invites him over because she’s lonely!

Harry is definitely the saddest of the weirdo chess dudes because apparently he’s been harboring a secret love of Beth (who at the time of their first meeting was like 13-15 depending on what timeline you’re going on and he was...20? OK GROSS BUT OK). BITCH EVEN GOT HIS WEIRD TEETH FIXED SO HE COULD BE LOVED BY BETH AND HER BENT ASS WIG AND SERIOUSLY NO THANK YOU HARRY. Regardless, Beth lets Harry have sex with her a few times and live rent-free in her house and ultimately Harry gets enough self confidence to leave this effed up living situation since he will never be one of Beth’s obsessions (which are still: chess, pills/alcohol, stealing shit). 

So Beth goes to Ohio for some other chess tournament and reunites with UGH Love Actually. At this point in the show, Beth starts wearing long scarves as headbands and her wig has never looked better because most of it is covered by the scarf. THANK GOD. So Love Actually totally chess hustles Beth for a lot of coin playing speed chess (DEAR GOD WHY HAVE I BEEN FORCED TO LEARN WHAT SPEED CHESS IS) but in the end, she still beats him for the chess title. EFF YOU, Love Actually! May I never see you again! OH SHIT HE JUST INVITED HER TO  NEW YORK TO TRAIN HER FOR THE PARIS CHESS THING DEAR GOD WHY IS THERE SO MUCH LOVE ACTUALLY IN THIS SHOW OK FINE I’LL STILL WATCH IT.

Episode 6 - Adjournment

Ok so Beth and her ok wig that is mainly covered by a scarf go to Love Actually’s apartment in NYC which IS AN UNDERGROUND BUNKER AND SHE HAS TO SLEEP ON A BLOW UP MATTRESS. Again and for the millionth time: Love Actually is the worst! Especially the worst because he introduces her to all these rando bohemians he knows, including some French bitch who will definitely eff everything up when Beth is already teetering on her pill/alcohol obsession and should probably not meet any other enablers. Somehow, he does get her to quit the pills/alcohol long enough to have sex with him (UGH).

And so we are in Paris, 1967. Where we started the show with Beth’s awful 60s flip! AND WE MEET ANOTHER PLOTHOLE. Only a week before this, Beth was in NYC with hair about 3″ shorter and still wearing scarves in her hair. WHAT IN THE VERY HELL, SHOW! I realize that this show has a very vague sense of time or how old Beth is or whatever but truly: NOPE. 

Anyway, it’s the night before the big match against Borgov and Beth is on her very best behavior when who should ring her up but that French bitch Love Actually introduced her to! She is downstairs at the hotel bar and just come down and have one drink and don’t ruin your entire chess career, mmmkay? THIS ENABLING BITCH!!!! NEVER TRUST ANYONE WITH THIS CRYING GAME WIG UNLESS YOU WANT YOUR LIFE TO BE A CRYING GAME. Of course, Beth goes downstairs, drinks every drink in the bar, has sex with some rando French dude and...wakes up in the icebath we see at the beginning of the show and sweatily plays Borgov in her wig that has never looked frizzier, loses, and is shamed from the entire chess community. Also Love Actually wants Beth to come back to NYC but NO THANK YOU TO YOU AND YOUR BUNKER OF ENABLERS.

Back in Kentucky, Beth....is shown learning how to flip her hair. WAIT WHAT SHE ALREADY HAD A FLIP HAIRSTYLE THE ENTIRE TIME IN PARIS WHAT KIND OF WIG GASLIGHTING ARE YOU PLAYING, SHOW?!?!?!??!?!?!!

UGH anyway, with THE EXACT SAME FLIP WIG AS WE’VE SEEN HER IN, Beth tries to be a responsible young person of indeterminate age who owns a house in Kentucky and not drink or take pills or steal shit. EXCEPT remember that time her adoptive dad said she could just have the house if she paid the mortgage? WELL BITCH SHOWS UP AND J’ACCUSES HER OF STEALING THE HOUSE FROM HIM. Which is hilarious because of all the things she stolen in this show, the house wasn’t one of them. In any case, she buys the house! And takes herself out to dinner! And has a drink! AND UH OH.

At this point the show just goes completely off the rails in addictive nonsense. Beth just goes around the house in her terrible flip wig applying makeup and barfing in to chess trophies. It’s every stereotypical drug/alcohol scene from every biopic ever except this chick doesn’t really exist and this show is wearing on my nerves and Beth has to stop making so many terrible live decisions and this wig has BETTER GET BETTER.

And then magically - Jolene shows up in the most fabulous afro wig!! WHAT! OK I WILL WATCH THE BITTER CONCLUSION OF THIS SERIES BECAUSE I LOVE JOLENE.

Episode 7: End Game

Jolene...Jolene....Jolene. Jolene. I love Jolene. I don’t love that this show uses her by making her be the “magical negro” trope who helps Beth get her life back together. Predictable nonsense! So yes, Jolene looks around Beth’s ramshackle drug den and tells her to get her life back together. AND THEN BETH DOES. No AA or rehab required! WHAT! I really appreciate that Jolene also compares her to Susan Hayward (star of Valley of the Dolls!) which is the sick burn/comparison I needed. 

The other reason Jolene showed up was to bring Beth to janitor Bill Camp’s funeral. At the funeral, which is very poorly attended, Beth reveals THAT SHE NEVER PAID BILL CAMP THAT $5 HE LENT HER (AND $10 SHE PROMISED HIM) AT THE BEGINNING OF HER CHESS CAREER. WHAT A PIECE OF SHIT. It is at this point that I fully decided that I wanted Beth to fail at everything because she is a garbage person who never gave propers to Bill Camp for changing her life for the better. THIS BITCH!! She even goes back to the orphanage where she discovers Bill Camp’s CHESS SHRINE DEVOTED TO HER! SHE FEELS LIKE SHIT AS WELL SHE SHOULD! I FULLY HATE HER!!!!

Jolene is much more forgiving of Beth than me and also introduces Beth to a new obsession: squash! Ok? It does allow Beth to wear a headband which is great wig-wise (in that it hides all the seamwork). Beth also turns down these Jesusy people who want to fund her chess trip to Russia and so Jolene GIVES HER $3,000 TO GO TO RUSSIA. IF THERE IS ANYTHING I’VE LEARNED IN THE LAST 5 MINUTES OF THIS SHOW IT IS THAT BETH WILL NOT PAY THAT MONEY BACK AND JOLENE PLEASE DO NOT!!!!

Jolene does. Beth goes to Russia which is straight out of every Bond movie and gets her shit together and wins a lot of damn chess. 

Though her midweight coat game rivals that of Nicole Kidman in The Undoing, her wig game ALSO RIVALS THAT OF NICOLE KIDMAN IN THE UNDOING IN THAT IT IS ALSO A RED NIGHTMARE WIG. This show spent so much goddamned money on clothes, sets, and CGI greenscreens of Mexico City AND YET NO MONEY FOR WIGS. BOO.

I did enjoy this one chess opponent’s walrus hair but otherwise, Beth’s flip wig has absolutely overstayed its welcome and is a compete and utter bent nightmare. Also! Remember that one hot chess dude? He shows up and helps Beth with Chess!! HUH?

Also every single weirdo in the chess community somehow form a chess calming circle in Love Actually’s bunker apartment and call Beth internationally to help her win against Borgov at chess! WHAT IN THE DAMN HELL? It is sweet I guess, but also makes ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING SENSE AS BETH WAS A TOTAL ASSHOLE TO ALL THESE PEOPLE AND DOES NOT DESERVE TO BE A PART OF THEIR WEIRD CHESS GANG.

Ultimately, Beth beats Borgov and wears THIS FUCKING HAT. I think we’re supposed to believe that she is now the white queen chess piece (I HATE THAT I NOW KNOW CHESS PIECES).

She is actually dressed in head to toe white and somehow convinces her American handler that she will just walk...to the airport? And despite being invited to the Johnson White House (girl go there!) would rather just wander the streets of Russia without any purse or luggage or way of getting home. THIS BITCH. She finds a new chess community of old men who play chess outside at folding tables and decides to join them WITHOUT GOING HOME TO PAY JOLENE ALL HER MONEY BACK WHICH IS ABSOLUTELY WHAT SHE SHOULD BE THINKING ABOUT AND ALSO MAYBE SETTING UP A BILL CAMP CHESS FOUNDATION BECAUSE YOU NEVER PAID HIM BACK YOU PIECE OF SHIT. No, she is no longer addicted to pills, alcohol, or stealing but is absolutely addicted to chess on a level that is probably lethal. I spent the last moments of the show demanding that the Russian chess hobos murder her and her immaculate white outfit because BETH IS A SELFISH ASSHOLE AND ALL HER WIGS ARE GARBAGE LIKE HER!!!!

VERDICT: DOESN’T WURQ

[stannyramirez]

𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓭 𝓰𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓮𝓼: 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 ½

❝Yes, ma’am, how ya doin’?❞ ❝I’m gonna be late ‘cause I’m lost out here.❞ ❝Why did you tell me to turn right 10 miles back there?❞ ❝God, you got a negative sense of direction.❞ ❝Bless her sweet, little ol’ heart.❞ ❝Don’t you look pretty!❞ ❝I guess it’d be better if you wait out here for me.❞ ❝Well, if you think it’s best.❞ ❝Don’t you pitch a fit like that!❞ ❝Did you ever hear of one of them fleet enemas?❞ ❝How anybody could’ve thought she murdered that man is beyond me.❞ ❝I beg your pardon?❞ ❝You sit and relax a while. I’ll tell you all about it.❞ ❝Oh, now, let’s see…❞ ❝I remember the day they pulled that truck up out of the river.❞ ❝She is gonna ruin my wedding!❞ ❝You’re gonna be the most beautiful bride.❞ ❝Your papa has spent every last nickel he has just to make you happy. Now, you try to act a little grateful, you lady.❞ ❝[Full name]! This is your mama! You come down here right now. Do you hear me?❞ ❝C’mon down, little bit. There’s no firin’ squad waitin’ for you.❞ ❝You look awful nice in that.❞ ❝She looks like a monkey.❞ ❝Take it back! Take it back!❞ ❝I’ll get you for this.❞ ❝Looks like you got yourself up a tree, little bit.❞ ❝I’m sick of people makin’ fun of me.❞ ❝So you’re gonna stay up here all day long?❞ ❝The hell with them.❞ ❝What if God made a mistake?❞ ❝The way I figure it, God never makes mistakes.❞ ❝He [God] made sure you got the best looking, most charmin’ brother in the world.❞ ❝You look beautiful.❞ ❝You’re just the one I’ve been lookin’ for.❞ ❝Are you thirsty? Let’s go visit someplace else.❞ ❝Come a little closer. I wanna give you something.❞ ❝It’s alright. I got it.❞ ❝Get out of there.❞ ❝You got to go back to the house.❞ ❝You have to be strong.❞ ❝You know, a heart can be broken, but it keeps a-beatin’ just the same.❞ ❝Oh, well, I enjoyed talkin’ to you, honey.❞ ❝What is the first thought that comes into your mind?❞ ❝Do we really pay for these lectures?❞ ❝My god, people can see you!❞ ❝You’re livin’ in the dark ages.❞ ❝I need one of these.❞ ❝Why don’t you come in and sit down at the table… and have dinner with me?❞ ❝Why you so dressed up?❞ ❝Honey, don’t get in the way. Scoot over a bit.❞ ❝How’s my dumplin’?❞ ❝Hi, sugar.❞ ❝You’re meaner than a damn snake.❞ ❝I’m glad you’re feeling better.❞ ❝Get back in bed.❞ ❝Hey. I was hopin’ you’d be here.❞ ❝Funny what you miss when you’re away from home.❞ ❝I miss the smell of coffee… and bacon fryin’.❞ ❝Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a plate of fried green tomatoes.❞ ❝Like they say, God never shuts one door without opening another.❞ ❝I must say you are lookin’ mighty fine today.❞ ❝You a politician or does lying just run in your family?❞ ❝Is that why you wanted to see me?❞ ❝Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.❞ ❝Oh, it’s got to work.❞ ❝I’ll do just fine, thank you.❞ ❝You ain’t got nothin’!❞ ❝Maybe I do and maybe I don’t.❞ ❝Put your money where your mouth is.❞ ❝Well, look what the cat drug in!❞ ❝I came to talk to you.❞ ❝You’re gonna have to wait. I’m busy.❞ ❝I’ll make you a rich man.❞ ❝You’re just bluffin’ again, as usual.❞ ❝Where the hell you goin’ with my money?❞ ❝Who are you to boss me around?❞ ❝Now, get in the car.❞ ❝I’ll leave when I want!❞ ❝I don’t know how you can break your mother’s heart like you do.❞ ❝I’m not doin’ anything to my mother.❞ ❝Your mother was so worried, she thought I might be able to talk some sense into you.❞ ❝You’re too busy being selfish!❞ ❝What are you talkin’ about?❞ ❝Turning your back on your family is not gonna help.❞ ❝What’s he got to do with anything?❞ ❝If you give me a chance, a chance to get to know you, maybe it’ll be fun!❞ ❝Fun?❞ ❝Just spend some time with me. Please?❞ ❝Suit yourself.❞ ❝You sure you don’t wanna back out? It’s not too late.❞ ❝We’ll get along just fine!❞ ❝Boy, did we luck out tonight.❞ ❝Ooo-ooo! Look at all this!❞ ❝The fun just started!❞ ❝You alright?❞ ❝Are you crazy?❞ ❝Don’t say ‘never’ to me.❞ ❝Does this hurt?❞ ❝We better get you to a doctor. Shit!❞ ❝You’ll never be able to carry me that far.❞ ❝I know, never say never.❞ ❝I’m not carryin’ you. You’re walkin’.❞ ❝Thank you. I owe you one.❞ ❝Aren’t you ready yet?❞ ❝No matter what happens, don’t move.❞ ❝What are you gonna do?❞ ❝Here you are, madam. This is for you.❞ ❝Why did you do that? You could have been killed.❞ ❝I got it just for you.❞ ❝It’s alright. I do it all the time.❞ ❝Don’t be mad at me.❞ ❝I’m not mad at you.❞ ❝No foolin’?❞ ❝Is it bad, what I did?❞ ❝I thought I might be crazy or something.❞ ❝I’ve just never seen it done… before today.❞ ❝Here, you want to taste it?❞ ❝Tonight we’re gonna have a real party.❞ ❝Drink this… and then, we’re gonna play some poker.❞ ❝I don’t know how to play poker, and I never drink. But thank you anyway.❞ ❝I’m gonna take another crack at it.❞ ❝I have never had so much fun in my whole life.❞ ❝You know, poker isn’t half bad.❞ ❝What’s your mother gonna say when she sees both of us drunk?❞ ❝You gotta stop worrying about what people think.❞ ❝You’ve always done the right thing.❞ ❝You gettin’ married?❞ ❝This is the best birthday I ever had.❞ ❝Do you find this threatening?❞ ❝Do you have a problem with your sexuality?❞ ❝Those classes I’ve been taking aren’t helpin’ us one bit.❞ ❝What do you think about it?❞ ❝I’m just getting used to it being quiet around here.❞ ❝All the guys must be wild about you.❞ ❝Don’t say it so loud.❞ ❝What happened to you?❞ ❝Where’d you get the shiner?❞ ❝You’re not gonna do anything.❞ ❝I’m gonna kill him.❞ ❝I’m gonna have a conversation with him about pickin’ on somebody his own size.❞ ❝You’re not gonna do anything, understand?❞ ❝if you care about me, if you really do, you’ll turn around and leave this minute. You understand?❞ ❝Will you dance with me?❞ ❝I will not dance with you, and I will not marry you.❞ ❝You’re just a goofy girl.❞ ❝Who’re you callin’ a goof?❞ ❝Stop that before I get mad and hurt ya.❞ ❝Oh, yeah? You try it.❞ ❝You give up?❞ / ❝No, I’ll never give up!❞ ❝I never seen anybody with so many hats.❞ ❝What the hell is going on here?❞ ❝Don’t you touch her!❞ ❝Let go!❞ ❝You bastard!❞ ❝Don’t you hurt her!❞ ❝I wouldn’t do that if I was you.❞ ❝If you ever touch her again, I’ll kill you.❞ ❝I sure as hell scared him, didn’t I?❞ ❝Yeah, you sure scared him.❞ ❝I think I’ve had enough learning for the time being.❞ ❝There was no reason for you to be so rude to me.❞ ❝Get away from me, you fat cow.❞ ❝What did you call me?❞ ❝Beat it, you old bitch.❞ ❝Why are you being so mean to me?❞ ❝I don’t understand!❞ ❝Now, you tell me what’s botherin’ you, sugar.❞ ❝I just feel so useless. So… powerless.❞ ❝I can’t stop eating.❞ ❝I hide candy bars all over the house.❞ ❝I can’t help ya on that one.❞ ❝I’m too young to be old, and I’m too old to be young.❞ ❝Maybe I’m just going crazy.❞ ❝How did you know?❞ ❝Really? Is that all?❞

[vvitchmemes]

𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓭 𝓰𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓮𝓼: 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 1/2

❝Yes, ma’am, how ya doin’?❞ ❝I’m gonna be late ‘cause I’m lost out here.❞ ❝Why did you tell me to turn right 10 miles back there?❞ ❝God, you got a negative sense of direction.❞ ❝Bless her sweet, little ol’ heart.❞ ❝Don’t you look pretty!❞ ❝I guess it’d be better if you wait out here for me.❞ ❝Well, if you think it’s best.❞ ❝Don’t you pitch a fit like that!❞ ❝Did you ever hear of one of them fleet enemas?❞ ❝How anybody could’ve thought she murdered that man is beyond me.❞ ❝I beg your pardon?❞ ❝You sit and relax a while. I’ll tell you all about it.❞ ❝Oh, now, let’s see…❞ ❝I remember the day they pulled that truck up out of the river.❞ ❝She is gonna ruin my wedding!❞ ❝You’re gonna be the most beautiful bride.❞ ❝Your papa has spent every last nickel he has just to make you happy. Now, you try to act a little grateful, you lady.❞ ❝[Full name]! This is your mama! You come down here right now. Do you hear me?❞ ❝C’mon down, little bit. There’s no firin’ squad waitin’ for you.❞ ❝You look awful nice in that.❞ ❝She looks like a monkey.❞ ❝Take it back! Take it back!❞ ❝I’ll get you for this.❞ ❝Looks like you got yourself up a tree, little bit.❞ ❝I’m sick of people makin’ fun of me.❞ ❝So you’re gonna stay up here all day long?❞ ❝The hell with them.❞ ❝What if God made a mistake?❞ ❝The way I figure it, God never makes mistakes.❞ ❝He [God] made sure you got the best looking, most charmin’ brother in the world.❞ ❝You look beautiful.❞ ❝You’re just the one I’ve been lookin’ for.❞ ❝Are you thirsty? Let’s go visit someplace else.❞ ❝Come a little closer. I wanna give you something.❞ ❝It’s alright. I got it.❞ ❝Get out of there.❞ ❝You got to go back to the house.❞ ❝You have to be strong.❞ ❝You know, a heart can be broken, but it keeps a-beatin’ just the same.❞ ❝Oh, well, I enjoyed talkin’ to you, honey.❞ ❝What is the first thought that comes into your mind?❞ ❝Do we really pay for these lectures?❞ ���My god, people can see you!❞ ❝You’re livin’ in the dark ages.❞ ❝I need one of these.❞ ❝Why don’t you come in and sit down at the table… and have dinner with me?❞ ❝Why you so dressed up?❞ ❝Honey, don’t get in the way. Scoot over a bit.❞ ❝How’s my dumplin’?❞ ❝Hi, sugar.❞ ❝You’re meaner than a damn snake.❞ ❝I’m glad you’re feeling better.❞ ❝Get back in bed.❞ ❝Hey. I was hopin’ you’d be here.❞ ❝Funny what you miss when you’re away from home.❞ ❝I miss the smell of coffee… and bacon fryin’.❞ ❝Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a plate of fried green tomatoes.❞ ❝Like they say, God never shuts one door without opening another.❞ ❝I must say you are lookin’ mighty fine today.❞ ❝You a politician or does lying just run in your family?❞ ❝Is that why you wanted to see me?❞ ❝Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.❞ ❝Oh, it’s got to work.❞ ❝I’ll do just fine, thank you.❞ ❝You ain’t got nothin’!❞ ❝Maybe I do and maybe I don’t.❞ ❝Put your money where your mouth is.❞ ❝Well, look what the cat drug in!❞ ❝I came to talk to you.❞ ❝You’re gonna have to wait. I’m busy.❞ ❝I’ll make you a rich man.❞ ❝You’re just bluffin’ again, as usual.❞ ❝Where the hell you goin’ with my money?❞ ❝Who are you to boss me around?❞ ❝Now, get in the car.❞ ❝I’ll leave when I want!❞ ❝I don’t know how you can break your mother’s heart like you do.❞ ❝I’m not doin’ anything to my mother.❞ ❝Your mother was so worried, she thought I might be able to talk some sense into you.❞ ❝You’re too busy being selfish!❞ ❝What are you talkin’ about?❞ ❝Turning your back on your family is not gonna help.❞ ❝What’s he got to do with anything?❞ ❝If you give me a chance, a chance to get to know you, maybe it’ll be fun!❞ ❝Fun?❞ ❝Just spend some time with me. Please?❞ ❝Suit yourself.❞ ❝You sure you don’t wanna back out? It’s not too late.❞ ❝We’ll get along just fine!❞ ❝Boy, did we luck out tonight.❞ ❝Ooo-ooo! Look at all this!❞ ❝The fun just started!❞ ❝You alright?❞ ❝Are you crazy?❞ ❝Don’t say ‘never’ to me.❞ ❝Does this hurt?❞ ❝We better get you to a doctor. Shit!❞ ❝You’ll never be able to carry me that far.❞ ❝I know, never say never.❞ ❝I’m not carryin’ you. You’re walkin’.❞ ❝Thank you. I owe you one.❞ ❝Aren’t you ready yet?❞ ❝No matter what happens, don’t move.❞ ❝What are you gonna do?❞ ❝Here you are, madam. This is for you.❞ ❝Why did you do that? You could have been killed.❞ ❝I got it just for you.❞ ❝It’s alright. I do it all the time.❞ ❝Don’t be mad at me.❞ ❝I’m not mad at you.❞ ❝No foolin’?❞ ❝Is it bad, what I did?❞ ❝I thought I might be crazy or something.❞ ❝I’ve just never seen it done… before today.❞ ❝Here, you want to taste it?❞ ❝Tonight we’re gonna have a real party.❞ ❝Drink this… and then, we’re gonna play some poker.❞ ❝I don’t know how to play poker, and I never drink. But thank you anyway.❞ ❝I’m gonna take another crack at it.❞ ❝I have never had so much fun in my whole life.❞ ❝You know, poker isn’t half bad.❞ ❝What’s your mother gonna say when she sees both of us drunk?❞ ❝You gotta stop worrying about what people think.❞ ❝You’ve always done the right thing.❞ ❝You gettin’ married?❞ ❝This is the best birthday I ever had.❞ ❝Do you find this threatening?❞ ❝Do you have a problem with your sexuality?❞ ❝Those classes I’ve been taking aren’t helpin’ us one bit.❞ ❝What do you think about it?❞ ❝I’m just getting used to it being quiet around here.❞ ❝All the guys must be wild about you.❞ ❝Don’t say it so loud.❞ ❝What happened to you?❞ ❝Where’d you get the shiner?❞ ❝You’re not gonna do anything.❞ ❝I’m gonna kill him.❞ ❝I’m gonna have a conversation with him about pickin’ on somebody his own size.❞ ❝You’re not gonna do anything, understand?❞ ❝if you care about me, if you really do, you’ll turn around and leave this minute. You understand?❞ ❝Will you dance with me?❞ ❝I will not dance with you, and I will not marry you.❞ ❝You’re just a goofy girl.❞ ❝Who’re you callin’ a goof?❞ ❝Stop that before I get mad and hurt ya.❞ ❝Oh, yeah? You try it.❞ ❝You give up?❞ / ❝No, I’ll never give up!❞ ❝I never seen anybody with so many hats.❞ ❝What the hell is going on here?❞ ❝Don’t you touch her!❞ ❝Let go!❞ ❝You bastard!❞ ❝Don’t you hurt her!❞ ❝I wouldn’t do that if I was you.❞ ❝If you ever touch her again, I’ll kill you.❞ ❝I sure as hell scared him, didn’t I?❞ ❝Yeah, you sure scared him.❞ ❝I think I’ve had enough learning for the time being.❞ ❝There was no reason for you to be so rude to me.❞ ❝Get away from me, you fat cow.❞ ❝What did you call me?❞ ❝Beat it, you old bitch.❞ ❝Why are you being so mean to me?❞ ❝I don’t understand!❞ ❝Now, you tell me what’s botherin’ you, sugar.❞ ❝I just feel so useless. So… powerless.❞ ❝I can’t stop eating.❞ ❝I hide candy bars all over the house.❞ ❝I can’t help ya on that one.❞ ❝I’m too young to be old, and I’m too old to be young.❞ ❝Maybe I’m just going crazy.❞ ❝How did you know?❞ ❝Really? Is that all?❞

[thestudyfeels]

How To NOT Be Depressed.

(Or If You Prefer — How to Be Substantially Happy About Life.) 

WARNING: This is one rollercoaster ride of a post. Proceed with extreme caution. For some, the staggering levels of insight may induce true purpose and re-establish their warrior spirit. For others, side effects may include grammatically incorrect hate or aloof eyerolls. We advise exiting if the said group includes you, for we're very tired of cleaning vomit off the seats.

Step aboard at your own risk.

If you’re one of the brave souls who stayed back to join us, I congratulate you for even I am scared of how crazy this post truly is. Alrighty then, kick back and relax folks, today we’re having a mature, adult conversation. Merely another cheery afternoon spent talking about life and its realities. Not too bad, eh?

Before we begin, spoiler alert! For those of you already turned off by the mention of 'depression’ and packing their bunnies to leave, sit tight. This ISN'T really about depression. This is about HAPPINESS. No clickbait. That got your attention, right butterfly? Nice, now stay.

A welcoming, maybe demanding A/N: Do me a favor and read this in one go. Maybe even plug in those headphones and listen to the songs dedicated to each part as you read. It's long, you have the new Riverdale episode to catch up on, but don't hop away just yet because (I had a couple moments writing this, alright) it's life changing. You'll prolly cry a few tears of realization, nod all nod-able body parts in agreement, beat your chest at random instants 'cause the hype’s too real, and perhaps, if it isn’t too much to hope for, finally go change your life for the better. In case you've forgotten, this'll remind you that there’s always hope, that you're a born conqueror, and you were made to THRIVE, not survive. Convinced? Kay, roll the cams.

   To clarify first-hand, no, I'm not depressed although I’ve experienced mild depression for a period before. Glad to say I'm out of it but I still struggle with tackling what I'm about to detail next.

Insert bitter voice, it’s this: My life is nowhere near I want it to be. Though I know vaguely what I wanna do, I haven't yet figured out how the hell I’m supposed to get there, or how my dream life is to be sketched out. It’s all a blurry mess. Which, to put it bluntly, hurts. I HATE feeling powerless and worthless, roaming about aimlessly.

There are many such moments where I hit the brakes to wonder why I’m not living THE Life already. There have been several times when I curl up and cry a frickin’ Amazon. There are horrible nights where I'm shaking with emotions, but they won't release, leaving me choked. (…not in that way, you hoes. Um, just ruined the dramatic mood with a lame dirty joke, sorry.)

   They say talking helps and that's why I figured I'd drop in. But perhaps more importantly, I wanted to hang because no matter how unfocused the lens may seem at my future, I don't consider myself a dopey loser incapable of the crazy dreams or wild bucket lists I fantasize about– and I thought I'd skip along to remind you that neither should you. (Or maybe I just came to sniff the new appetizers, who knows?)

PS: I also broke a sweat listing six ways to get outta depression– alternatively, to be more of a conqueror– because y'all are always pestering me with asks that go “how do I conquer omg send supplies” (Like, imagine a conqueror saying that! Oh, the crime, the atrocity!)

So yes, you're welcome. Have a feast with this litness.  

The main reason behind people being so frightfully sad, I’ve found, is a huge lack of fulfillment. We don't do what we love, for either— [ 1 ] we aren’t living life the way we want to (since we keep doing things we feel we're supposed to do) OR [ 2 ] because Mama, Papa and Mrs. Carter next door feel that struggling is the only way, and project their traditional beliefs onto us. Either way, whether or not we consciously realize this, subconsciously, we're all hurting because of it. Badly.

That lingering feeling of emptiness never seems to leave. You feel drained every night when you drop into bed, not because you gave it your all, but because you couldn't. And so, we do the next best thing. Drugs. Maybe not literally, but figuratively. We numb out this subconscious pain by binge watching Netflix shows. We deaden ourselves to that discomfort by reading smut in the bathroom or by playing dumb video games all day. We try (and fail) to extinguish this feeling of not ‘being enough’ by having silly flings or fake friendships.

And ultimately, we NUMB ourselves out to LIFE for we can't bear to live the way we're living. There's a reason why “How to Stop Procrastinating” posts are so popular (they’re a blogger’s most foolproof way of paying the month’s rent, and yes, even I'm guilty of a couple). We’re constantly having FOMO and tuning into others' highlights on social media– completely missing out on our own lives in the process. We fail to realize that the culprit is lack of genuine purpose more than zero self-control (or maybe it’s both, but that’s a tale for another day).

[On a side note, obviously I did generalize a bit– video games can be a passion for you, watching shows a way of winding down. But for most, they’re only DISTRACTIONS, just another way of ignoring the calls of life by hanging up the phone.]

   And here's the bitter truth about depression: The longer you wait to start living authentically, the more you start tuning out the inner cries wanting change, the faster your dreams start to ebb away, and the more you'll want to become insignificant. And to me, that's the scariest part of this journey to my dream life.

Nothing frightens me more than knowing that the moment I stop pushing, the very moment I give in to distractions and fears, my goals will stop manifesting themselves and I'll be stuck in this small town with its small people eternally. And THAT, I'm certain, won't be any more fun than working your way through a soggy ham sandwich, ironic as soggy is what life has become. (Yes, I have a thing against soggy sandwiches. They were a kid's worst lunch nightmare.)

   If you relate, and I’m sure you do (it’s probably why you stopped scrolling through cheesy fanfic for ten minutes to read this, I know you amigo) — here are six ways to NOT be depressed. Or more accurately, to gift wrap yourself some sweet ol’ happiness.

You're a Samurai and the Following Be Your Katanas —

Hol’ up. The second you reach the End Card, I want you to drop your Cheerios and implement at least THREE of these six strategies. Just follow the Takeaways, I've made this really simple. And as a rule, one of them has to be this one. (Look, don't whine. If you wanna climb outta that dark hole, you gotta put in some effort. So pop that booty, and let’s get down to business!)

Here’s the most truthful, though cheesy thing I’ll ever say: I would be nowhere I am today without this blog. If not for it, I would most likely be weeping in a dug-out hole somewhere, drowning in my salty little pond of tears and chiming every loser’s favorite words (“there's no point”). Creating this blog gave me a definite purpose – putting out fiery content, dipping myself deep into my newly found passion for writing and influencing, and connecting with other conquerors on the platform.  

I meet a lot of folks, whether at Sad School, Mouldy Mall, or Boring Bus stop, who always seem to be in a state of death-inducing boredom. When asked about their favorite thing to do, they’ll mumble “sleep” or “food” like Siri narrating your cat’s evening routine. And then you see adults, dragging through life mindlessly. Utterly clueless, floating like a piece of driftwood in an ocean bubbling with life. My sympathy quota gets overdosed everytime I think about it.

   To spell it out, find something to do. Anything! Learn a language, try some ballet, take pictures of your neighbor's rose garden, make an art piece and show it to your mom, stitch buttons onto shirts for fun, heck, make an entire shirt out of buttons, take a break from reading smut to write your own, frutify your farts, WHATEVER, just get up and move.

And here’s why – nay, not to keep you engaged or make you feel less worthless, not that bullcrap. It’s to put in gear the journey of figuring out what is the shite that you love doing. Too often we get stuck thinking about what our oh-so-great passion is. Get this, passion is energy. A spark for something. A magical fortune cookie which, when cracked, seems to explain everything, gives you the very reason for being alive. You can only feel that fire, that wild love, when you actually do it. So get cracking is all I’ll say!

Takeaway:

Attempt something. Nah, scratch that, imagine you’re in a sweet shop with shelves lined with free samples and try everything. Pick up that Polaroid cam, take that dreaded history course, buy that children’s cooking kit– in short, start working. Pull out all the stops, get curious, and get creative. In the process, if you promise to try hard enough, you WILL (money back guarantee) find out what makes your little heart burst with mad happiness and would willingly do for free, if needed, because you really are that crazy about it. And that, my dear, will be your oh-so-great-indeed passion. Have no doubt, you’ll never be “bored” again.

Real talk, having a dream is a big deal. And unfortunately, I’ve witnessed, rarely anyone has one to begin with. They’re either more dead than the cheap skeleton I bought for Halloween or believe they have a dream, but in reality, it belongs to mom, dad, or Uncle Sammy. Listen, doing something for someone you love (my Uncle Sammy used to supply me with cold cash whenever he came around, loved that guy) is great! YET, if you’re willing to throw away your life to fulfill others’ expectations, convincing yourself it's because they love you, even when YOUR lonely heart craves bigger things than just a marketing job, then you, my friend? Are the biggest fool. Don’t get offended, we both know it, this girl needn't ramble.

Recently, my relatives were over (nope, sadly not Uncle Sammy) and my cousin and I had a chat about life (correct, I grab every opportunity to do so). It wasn't very exciting I must say, he kept staring off into the distance (I wonder why), but what he SAID is what I'll talk about. After I’d gushed about my dreams, he asked skeptically if being an influencer would still be an ambition two years from now when I graduate. I raised my eyebrows, mock hurt, like eff you son, I ain’t giving up on my dreams! But that question got me thinking.

Life is wild. Unpredictable. An unexpected call, a single person, a random BLOG POST (cough) – can turn your life upside down, sometimes in the affirmative, other times not. This variability of life isn’t uncommon, and everyone experiences some part of it– unpaid student loans, failing startups, talent and art going unnoticed in industries dominated by wealth and connections, you name it. If all of that doesn’t make you run for the Himalayas and abandon any dreams, throw in a quick side dish of dysfunctionale famiglia with a sprinkle of self-image issues.

It ain’t easy, darling. The world is one cruel headmistress; it loves slapping awake the daydreamers and wishful thinkers. That hasn't ever actually stopped the dropouts and class clowns from building castles in the air though. And the common blueprint you notice they follow? Let me introduce you to…  Madness. Obsession. Maniacal obsession, to say. (Yes, I'm done playing with my words.)

   I struggled writing this point. A pestering voice in my head kept mumbling – They'll go back to doing the same sad shit anyway. Um, does anyone even read your posts? Lol, call yourself an influencer, hun. Hesitation started creeping in. Then the irony of the situation struck me. I laughed, shook my head and got back to typing.

We ran out of juicy gossip weeks ago, so here’s your tea served cold: insecurities and self doubt WILL get in the way. That whiny voice was just a mild version of what you face when you go all in. Fear traps you in its cage, and those who prattled behind your back now progress to talking shit in your face. Criticism and self doubt resurfaces, so unless your defenses are strong, you'll be crushed. Destroyed REAL quick.

When hell breaks loose (oh honey, and it WILL), your self defense comprising of maniacal obsession must be well learnt. Let them attack, mock, heck, drag you away from the desk and hurl you at the top of a damn mountain, but you better STILL hike back down, show them the middle finger, and continue working. That's how bulletproof you've gotta be. That's how madly do you have to love your dreams. And if you really think this will be a cake walk or want to continue complaining about Stuart being born with a silver spoon, hop off the train already. Your destination isn't on the tour list.

Look, my dreams terrify me. But they certainly make me feel more alive than complying with what every parent said about getting good grades and holding together a roof on my head. My ambitions set me free, give me a reason to fucking live. And yet, every now and then, something makes me question them. A fear engulfs me, some doubter proclaims I suck, someone I love is so blinded they can't see my vision. And that's okay. My defenses are way stronger. The next day rolls round, and you'll find me hustling again, thriving again. All because I know that even if no one reads my posts (the worst case scenario, I know y'all love me lol), someday in the future, someone will. I know that even if I’m not an influencer yet, if just one reader becomes a conqueror because of my words, it would be a win. A big win. I'd have done my job. All because I’m wildly, yes maniacally, obsessed with my dreams.

So hey, cousin? This influencer thing? This will be my dream long after I've graduated. Till the day I die, and maybe even then I'll rise from my grave to give a dead pal a lively pep talk. My watchtower has just been upgraded, so thank u, next.

Takeaway: 

“General, we've arrived!” Finally! Position those cannons, Martha, let’s talk them through the defenses. All aboard? AHOY MATEY! (wait, that was one for the pirates). Step one, dare to create a dream in your mind’s eye. The bigger, the crazier, and the scarier, the better. Doesn’t matter how impossible it is, don’t care how many voice their opinion against it, just imagine, keep a million possibilities in mind.

Once you see the life you truly want (you’ll know, everything will seem to zing)— have a sip. Become OBSESSED for that life. Thirst after that vision, itch to manifest it, and pine for the satisfaction that’ll come to your soul once it’s made a reality. Fall madly in love with the process and how magical it feel when you do it. And THEN, bellow a loud war cry and charge headfirst into battle, shields held high at all the criticisms. We conquerors never cared much for them anyway.

(play ♬) Picture this: forehead stamped with beads of sweat. Calloused hands working their fingers to the bone and eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. Conjure an image where powerful beats are pulsing hard in your ears, synced with your own elevated heartbeats, and you’re thriving. Performing. Winning. Guess the secret to that? Preparation. Champions prepare. You can’t throw anything to the winds or rely on ‘luck’ or chance to conquer.

Tough days are in everyone’s calendar, be it your extra cheerful neighbor, Sally, or lone wolf classmate, Derrick. We’ve all found ourselves sulking over an awful situation, scooping into mint ice cream to forget mistakes, errands, and ghosting exes. Yet guess what? The solution isn’t the proclaimed “be positive!” or “It all happens for a reason, don’t you worry” - the key is coming up with a method to dodge the discouraging effect these hiccups have on us.   

So every bad day, I bring out a mason jar containing a knot of chits and one secret letter which is, on most days, kept hidden on the top shelf of my cupboard. I make myself comfortable on the bed, read all my bits of paper carefully, including the letter addressed to yours truly, close my eyes, and mentally fight back whatever’s bringing me down.

A short while later, I get up, now a warrior, and go slay the rest of the day like it was my last one on this planet. That jar is my jar. A Conqueror’s jar. One look at those powerful reminders, and I’m grounded once again, the beast within me now unleashed to kill.

Takeaway:

Honey, go get yourself a jar. Along with some papyrus and ink. Then start jotting down. Document past victories, future visions, fears that mean zilch to the person you’re about to become, batty goals you’ve still gotta chase, reminders that the majority will never understand what it is you’re tryna do here, and how that’s perfectly alright 'cause you'll find your conquerors, your squad one day. Create your victory jar. And then go knock ‘em down dead. Bad days stand no chance against you. You’re a winner, a fucking rebel. Go take what’s yours.

Y’know, I’m perfectly aware that many muggles reading this will whine that dealing with depression ain’t no piece o’ pie and it’s hella hard to get up and take the crown when you feel like a pile of dino dung.

Stop it. Get some help. (See what I did? Like Michael- ok ok, calm thyself.) For real though, and I’m tired of repeating this with my kitten stamped microphone (but I’ll keep at it ‘cause it’s that significant) – whining is WORTHLESS. It saps up precious energy that could be used to make life a scrumptious smoothie. (Loothie? As in life + smoothie? Right, yes, I’m shutting up.)

And even THEN, we find denizens complaining about slow WiFis and thin crust pizzas and how the market’s down and the government’s incompetent. Because blabbering makes us feel important. Heard. But keeping yo’ trap shut and actually doing stuff? Hustling for your dreams when nobody’s watching? Actually walking the talk? C’mon, Emma, don't be naive, ain’t nobody getting recognition for that.

Trust me, I get it. The world is yet to become a feminist, turns out your boyfriend was cheating on you while you were looking up wedding dresses, mommy’s a drunk loser, and idiots are being voted into office. It’s a lot to handle. But thanks to our immense and ever increasing population (we folks really love our rumpy pumpy, can you tell) — there will surely be one chum, facing exactly the same misfortunes as you, but still turning up at every party and bulk-spamming his friends with puppy pictures while you sit and wail. (One Moaning Myrtle is enough, thank you very much.)

Look, I’m not undermining your worries or obstacles. I’m only reminding that you have the marvelous choice of positivity. To CHOOSE hope and a better future when others won't. To FIND (and it's always possible) something to look forward to even when the to-do’s a big snore. To KNOW, deep inside, that you're a magnificent conqueror, no matter what mess you’re in at the moment, and that the world dances to your rhythm. Realise that it's up to you to let yourself be happy. At any moment, you have the very say-so to get up and start rocking. Dumbledore said it himself, “It is our choices, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.” So choose better, and you’ll unconsciously do better as well. And yes, that being said, this is the last HP reference, don't fret. Be positive instead. (Edit: Ha, look at these quips, the girl's all grown up now.)

Takeaway: 

Your new occupation is to be a sunflower. If you think back, you'll probably recall Miss Honey rattling on about phototropic movement in AP biology. No? Me neither. Point is, sunflowers always face the sun. Put them ANYWHERE, hide them in the dungeons, throw them in a trash bag and shoot it off to the moon, they’ll still turn around and face the sun. No matter what. And taking inspo from that, you too can stop scripting creative soliloquies for being depressed. Happiness is YOUR right, YOUR priority, don't let anyone take it away from you or diminish its importance. DON’T let sadness ruin your vibe, do what you've gotta do to protect yourself. Track happiness in yo’ journal, set 84 reminders on your phone, and tattoo “Long as you’re beaming up at the sun, all the shadows will be left behind” on your boobs. Do whatever, just don’t turn the corners of your mouth down. You’re so pretty this way.

The other day, I was doing the deathly Plié Alternative Heel Lifts (these names, I swear) and my legs felt dead. Gone. Put to sleep like the Wicked Witch of the East. Now obviously, the timer wasn’t not even halfway done yet, but my cheeks were already flushing red like dear Santa, and NOT because I was high on choco chip cookies. I sighed, and at that point, I was so over giving up. All this while, I’d been whining and protesting because my muscles felt sore, but in that moment, I made up my mind. I bit my lip and kept going. On and on. Keep pulsing, you got it, don't stop, was the mantra I kept chanting.

   Won’t sugarcoat it, I honestly hadn’t died this much since that time Miss Honey buried me alive with trig assignments. My legs were now basically Play-doh and I was shaking, fighting for balance. A few seconds in though, something crazy happened. My legs went numb. My grumbling mind quietened and the pain vanished. That evening, I had the upper hand, not my physical perceptions of myself. I was powerful. Flawless. (Hey Santa, do you even lift bro?) Real talk, I was in the Zone, bitches.

I’m not sure if that was the result of excessive pain or because Wonder Woman’s spirit possessed ma bod, but staying loyal to my love for metaphors, I’ll use the experience to explain what I’m tryna get at here.

   Look, here’s the real deal — if all of the greats gave up the second things got frowny, we probably would have no one to worship. Nix role models, nix inspirations, none to stalk on Insta - we’d all be bumbling about like Sad from the even sadder Emoji movie (no shade, emojis be lit).

And that'd be very sad (pun definitely intended). Hence, cue some tangible ways to boosting your grit, so that you can be your own superhero:

1) Get yo’self a goddamn motto,

2) Know your “Why,”

3) Repeat the cycle till it’s in your blood. Btw, Shawn, if you here, I’m still a single pringl—HEY PAL I SEE YOU, DON'T SCROLL.

Seriously, don't brush these prime steps aside. We're always going for the advanced modes, and deeming these basic levels a waste of time. Well guess what, compadre, YOUR LIFE IS A GODDAMN WASTE O’ TIME IF YOU DON'T HAVE YOUR BASICS RIGHT. Excuse my outburst, but listen. You can’t do a hundred bicep curls on your first workout if you haven't lifted anything more than a crisps packet. Likewise, if you simply jump into Life one day, and decide “ok, here it is, 12 habits to build, sleep schedule to fix, man to ask out, let's go,” you ain't getting nowhere, chum. Start small. Take baby steps. It's clearly not as fun (definitely negates the bragging on Facebook part of it) but it'll stick. You’ll create a consistency that not even Grandma's cake batter can achieve.

1. Talking mottos — For context, a motto that I always mutter (my mom thinks I'm cursing, oh what a bad child) every time I spill milk while making coffee is “Do more. Give more. BE more.” Not only does it help me stay right on track for the rest of the day but it helps me clean up my mess, figuratively and otherwise, or I’d just be sitting in a puddle of spilt milk, cursing adulting for real this time and with more laundry to do.

2. Why you need the Big Why — Owning up, I’m guilty of attempting to learn Welsh for less than 48 hours because I hadn't a single reason to speak the language. A similar thing happened with half of my 2018 resolutions, which had a bunch of rubbish like “Floss daily”, something my eyes got trained to skip because, um, who the hell flosses every day?

Lame humor aside, I still workout almost daily because I have my Why straight. 1) I want to feel good about my body and get closer to the confident badass I envision my future self to be, 2) I simply HAVE to sustain my health to live to build my legacy and fulfill my dreams of opening a bakery at 90 and 3) Because I’m an influencer, and want to walk my talk and be the inspiration people need. Those are the reasons as to why I turn up to my yoga mat everyday, shut my jabbering mind, and keep on pulsing. This “Why” strategy applies to everything. Wanna get outta depression? Why? Wanna lose 20 pounds? Why? Wanna listen to your dentist’s desperate pleadings and floss already? WHY EH? Unless you know your intentions, you’ll give up at the first chance you get to not act on your goals. And watch out, because there'll be a LOT of those.

For me, leaving a legacy behind means more than having a slice of cake or missing a workout because there’s a fun movie playing. Find what's important to YOU, make it your why, and go marry your goals.

3. And then, Repeat — Bear in mind, if you're not living your best life yet, there are NO weekends. NO work-shy days. No weak days, no pick-me-up days, no eat-candy-do-nothing days. Everyday is a damn Monday. EVERYDAY is life or death. Every holy day you wake up is a chance to push your limits, challenge your mindset, and see how far you can go. And every 24 hours, when the cycle starts again, it’s your mission to race to build a stronger, wiser and crazier you.

And who knows, perhaps one day, you and I will just be casually sipping tea in our dream home, laughing at how the milk is still being spilt but knowing, proudly, fiercely, that we’ve come so far, even though there’s still more left to do, more to give and so much more to be.

Takeaway: 

Quit quitting. You're, guaranteed, 20x stronger than you think. I doubted I could go through with the workout, it seemed beyond my present physical capabilities. But I did, because I treated it as life or death. Understand this, the second you start making excuses, for being depressed, for taking an unnecessary day off - you give away your power. You are a very powerful being. You're limitless, capable of everything.

I'm not throwing these words around to make you feel cute, I actually mean AND believe them. There’s so much that's been done already— the iconic four minute mile by Roger Bannister, invention of the light bulb, cars, toothpaste and other junk, people who lost both legs and climbed Mt. Everest, we sent a man to moon in frickin’ 1969 (50 YEARS ago), some ran a 26 mile marathon with zero training, love and hope is still strong in this world, oh let's also add coffee and motivational music— and YOU think you can't finish a workout or get outta depression or meet your idols or marry the man of your dreams or become the artist you wanna be? Ridiculous. Don't give away your power that easily, this ain't no charity shop.

(play ♬) Having personally dealt with unwelcome yet familiar feelings of emptiness quite often, I’ve now reached a point where each bad day is simply a reminder of how long my journey ahead is, and just how badly I want to reach my destination.

We finally near the end of this novel of a post (thanks for sticking around, bud), and my best advice would be this: Rather than wallowing in self pity and throwing one-man parties because your life is so awfully dreadful, know that even when life throws you to the floor, long as you can look up, long as you can read an entire book about defeating depression (cough)– you can GET UP too. Let those emotions of sorrow and frustration blaze up into a roaring, crackling fire that doesn’t consume you, but instead, urges you, fuels you.

Lately, no matter how much shit I go through, how many arguments I tumble into, or how barren my dreams look sometimes, I don’t break down. And no, it wasn't always like this. I never even had aspirations to name two years ago. Six months back, it had become a night routine to cry. Not anymore.

Now, every setback and every failure only pushes me to be stronger and give more than I ever gave. The day I made the decision to Conquer (truly, madly, deeply, with all of my heart) was also the day I said a big, loud ‘fuck you’ to every resistance that was to cross my path. I had finally understood that life was nothing but a battle of WILLS, that it was all in or nothing, and I made up my mind once and for all to NEVER give in to depression, or to society, or to anyone who tells me I cannot make it.

I had conquered depression. There was no looking back now.

Takeaway: 

Here’s something no one will tell you: the key to bringing depression to its knees is seeing it positively. Pretend that it's a friend continuously sending strong, aggressive signals urging you to be happy. And what do you do when a caring friend throws some holy light? You listen, push past your ego, and follow accordingly.

And if that parallel seems unconvincing, here's another one (sup, DJ Khaled. This post is turning musical, sorry): it's scared of you. Depression is scared shit of you. Y'know how bullies are, right? Majorly insecure, self-loathing too perhaps, hardly fans of self love, and always trying to numb all that subconscious pain by inflicting pain on others. Depression has the same instruction manual. Your fears and doubts are your (pathetic) bullies, and depression is the big ol’ crony who does the dirty work for 'em.

Whenever you decide shit this is it, I'm going for it, they go paranoid and try stopping you because they've seen no better. And if they succeed, BOOM, you're depressed, paralyzed, your qualms reigning over you again. Don't let them in. I'll say it a thousand times if I gotta because I want (HAVE) to see you conquer – you're so much stronger than you think you are. You can do so much more than you think. It's all in your head! Don't just sit there, click away, and go back to living a sad life. You’re better than that. DO better than that. You’re meant to freaking CONQUER, straight-up dominate, my pal. Pay heed to that voice craving freedom. You got this. And you better know it.

One thing’s fixed like the (beloved by all) proportionality constants in Physics, you will come across depressing mornings and sluggish evenings even in the future. I assure you. Lots o’ bad hair days in the calendar, sis. But here's what you’ll do: you'll deactivate the miserable thoughts, keep a cool head, remind yourself that this is yet another test (better, rap your new mantra) and USE that hurt, pain, and anger to create a fervor and passion that wreaks havoc on its obstacles and drives you to accomplish EVERYTHING you've ever wanted to do. The easy choice would be to just give up, bellyache about the situation, and want sympathy for your worries. Yet, what you'll never do is… exactly that.

Rule 1) NEVER give up. Stand your ground. Have faith in your strength. Know that you'll have your way soon enough anyway. Rule 2) NEVER complain. All it does is drain your energy, that precious fire you could to high jump your way into the clouds. Makes you a pathetic wimp too, definitely not something you want on a warrior’s resume. Lastly, Rule 3) NEVER seek validation. From anyone. It sure feels nice to be acknowledged and encouraged, but grasp this— this is your journey. YOUR life and YOUR vision. Validation won't get you anywhere, for there'll never be enough of it.

Cuz Marty, if you're tryna bring something new, different, and authentic into this world – you'll most likely be hated on badly, before you'll be loved madly (hi, me a rapper). Learn to invite hate instead—IMPORTANT: hate from others, not yourself. Sounds counterintuitive, but this is the real tea: hate is good. It means you're standing up for something, refusing to fit like a puzzle piece in society, and being UNAPOLOGETICALLY yourself. And it’s certainly a sign that you’re on the right path if you can ignore that hate and stick your tongue out at it.  

Yet another reason to never seek validation is simply this: you have to fight for yourself. In order to meet your own expectations, reach the doorstep of the best version of you, and transform this world, you'll have to go wildly IN. Toil and hammer away. Shut out all the haters and non-believers, listening only to your gut. Importantly, learn to accept the rejection slips, validating yourself not with what Molly says about it being okay, but with the reminder that your time is coming soon. Depend on yourself. Validation will NEVER be enough.

I get it, it's a lot of homework, but perhaps you already realize that it’s THIS work that'll change your life forever. Not “how to not procrastinate, Jesus take the wheel” or “HELLO, life's a mess so here are ten things to do (you won't believe number four!)”. Clickbaits don't work, stop believing that a fancy planner is going to be your savior. There is no rule to making your life a masterpiece. You'll have to get to know yourself and your dreams (journaling, meditation, silent pondering), build the work ethics and the mentality needed (lots of work in this one, yet no strict framework to go about it) and GET GOING.

AND with that firework, I'll begin to slip away now. Again, I won’t say it’s easy, that’s cock and bull. Life’s no fairytale. You will never feel ready to start bringing your dreams to fruition. But, my darling (I’m being so nice yo, follow me), you must. You must force yourself to work for the future you want till it becomes a habit, an obsession. The world badly needs heroes; confident people who can stand for themselves so that others can stare at first, maybe even hate a little, but then follow because they seem unstoppable and are, truthfully, having the most fun at life. YOU'RE one of them. No validation, just plain facts.

You see, conquering is a LOT of blood and sweat (K-pop, anyone? BTS? Lmao, this is me tryna clickbait y'all to read). Even getting up will seem huge when you're just starting out, and this is one long road, dear pal. Still then, I have enough faith in you to hope you don't give into your fears, I hope you willingly chase discomfort, and I hope you find the courage to do all that you want to do, while that heart's still beating.

I hope you conquer. I'll do too, and I'd really like to see some familiar faces during the ride.

Peace, amigo.

A loud ass A/N: And now, we come the most important part of this post. WAKE UP Luke, stop snoring, and take some notes. Remember kids, I won't accept anything but an A.

   If you couldn’t identify yourself throughout this post and currently are scoffing like um woman, that's not really why I'm depressed, hang in there a sec. Yes, you can stop singing It Ain’t Me now. You've a very nice voice by the way.

I'm not a doctor, and I don't have enough exposure to know why so many earthlings are depressed today. HOWEVER, by talking to many, following their stories, watching and reading stuff – I do know with firm conviction that a majority suffers from severe unfulfillment. Don't believe me? A study shows 85% of the working class worldwide hate their jobs. Do you realize what that actually means? EIGHTY-FIVE PERCENT of the THREE BILLION PEOPLE employed today, hate being employed in the first place! They do it for prime survival, to sustain themselves. And that's just jobs. I won't scare you, but 50% (yes, HALF, you heard that right) of students HATE going to school. Kids waste SEVEN hours of their life every day going somewhere they dislike, doing something they hate. Who's singing now?

People find themselves trapped in golden handcuffs, taking the paycheck despite the passionless job. They push aside the art and business they love, to become a slave of good ol’ cash. Several surround themselves with negativity and get frustrated when unable to escape the choking (no, not THAT kind again, hello someone pour holy water over this post) atmosphere. An innumerable are forced into taking up courses that they don't care about under parental pressure. The reasons are endless, and I don't think I'll amuse myself listing all the sad excuses.

This has always been the story. Hundreds of influencers have preached the same words I’m tryna put into your head here and you’ll yourself say you’ve heard this a million times. YET, you’re dissatisfied. YET, you feel like crap everyday, feeding yourself the same lie that the next day will be better, that you’ll get up tomorrow– while you let life beat the shit out of you.

That’s why, all of my words, everything you’ve read today - all of that boils down to just one single question. A difficult but necessary choice. Will you let this happen to YOU? Will you, seriously, even after this wild ride together, go back to doing nothing and being nothing? Will you, for real, continue deceiving yourself, sacrifice your happiness for the sake of pleasing everyone else, and remain a statistic on a website?

   (play ♬) If you’re not sure of your answer, read: Look, making you feel guilty is not my intention, because that’s not how this works. I need you to understand instead. Guilt wears off, it’s only understanding that brings about change. So, just for old times’ sake, I’ll rant a bit more (ik, just can’t seem to leave y’all).

You’re so, so young right now. More than half of your life is yet to be experienced. None of this probably makes much impact right now but it will the day you die. Remember, on your deathbed, you won't EVER look back and say, “Damn, wish I'd spent more time at the office. Saved up just one more dollar. Could’ve got that promotion before Amy.” Nay, it won’t even be on the calendar. That day, one foot in the grave, you'll reflect and wonder why the heck you didn’t let yourself be happier. Why you took up that lacklustre, soul-sucking architect job when all you've ever wanted to do is keep laughing. Why you didn't ask your crush out, why you were so afraid to walk up to that audition, because dammit, you could’ve been running your own comedy show by now. Why you dragged around a karaoke machine all this time instead of singing your own song. Why you couldn’t love yourself. Why you submitted. Why.

And the moment you realize that you hadn't lived a life for you, you’ll be crushed. Broken. The arthritis in your grannie joints won't even compare and neither will the mild dissatisfaction you’re feeling right now. Those whys will haunt you, they'll terrorize you, break you. It'll hurt tremendously to know that there isn't a single thing in your long life that you could call completely your own.

 With every death today so many dreams are left unachieved, crazy things left unchecked on the bucket list, and unique potential left unexpressed.

DON'T let that be you. Please. I'm still a mess myself, struggling to reach class on time and studying subjects that aren't exactly fun, when all I want to do is create content (read: fireworks) that is at a level of insanity, influence folks to do better, hold crazy world tours and meet-and-greets to give hugs, and get an adorable puppy so I can create a dogstagram (yes, I'm that mom). Sure, I could declare it's too hard, hang onto small-minded and negative people who whine endlessly, and follow the crowd, getting lost in it, with ease.

But I won’t because I can’t take the burden of those regrets. That painful unrest and discontent that nothing could cure, not drugs, alcohol, buddies, not even true love. For then I’d be just another drone, my controller in the hands of society, forcing me to see the world through its eyes. I can’t give in because I’m scared, terrified even, of wasting away this one life doing the bidding of others- folks who won't even notice when I’m gone.

It’s easy to be depressed and crib your entire life. It’s easy to think you’re worthless and that trying is pointless since nothing ever goes your way.

But perhaps, if you rise, if you simply DECIDE to have the audacity to fight for what you believe in, if you work and focus on becoming better, things will go your way. Life will bend to you, in awe, at your incredible relentlessness. Life will take one look at you, wonder who the fuck is this person? How the fuck are they so incapable of giving up? And back right away. And then perhaps, life will be such a blast for you that depression would become the past you never had.

   I know you can get there, conqueror. It’s time you knew it too.

🌚🌝 Further reading? 🌝🌚

Last Post :— How To Get Back Into The Creative Process – For you, if you're in a creative rut. Get outta it and go create magic!

5 Reasons Why You're Unhappy — To help you identify & cut out CURRENT sources of sadness so that you can spice up yo’ life with some happiness instead. Definitely recommend reading AND implementing.

The Bubble Trap & How To Get Out Of It — One of my classics. Everyone is in one of these 'bubbles’ till they consciously do something about it; that's just how it is. Are you still in one? (Someone teach me marketing, lmao.)

The 5 Biggest Regrets of The Dying (from Greatist) — I LOVED reading this. Pretty much all you need to cut the crap and do meaningful stuff. Read it, memorize it, work it.

++ Want to request a blog post? Leave your request in my ask box! I'll get back to you with a reply, along with the average time I'll need to birth that magical idea.

Thanks for dropping by! It was a pleasure to have you around. If you wish to stick for a bit, I'd suggest picking one of the related posts mentioned above.

If you wanna check out my blog, here's a little something about me (y'all know I love the attention). What do I write about? Three arenas I dominate, Work, Lifestyle and Life, they are, my mate! Take your pick!

I post new blog posts bi-weekly, and my wins, & journal entries throughout the week, so follow me if you're into conquering life, leaving a legacy and being the baddest badass you can possibly be. I'll be your side pal, cheering you along.✨

And that was it, it's a wrap! Martha, shut the cams, Henry, pause the audio, and Nandita, I know you're pretending to be deaf, but Mom's yelling something about doing the dishes. Better skip along.

And you, fellow conqueror? Keep slaying life, doing the work and making it count. I hope you're well, stay strong and go conquer life. ✧

I'm sending you so much love, see you soon.

— Nandini 💌 (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[mcthieus]

it’s ya girl moose back at it again what’s good ?? as per usual....HMU or LIKE THIS if u wanna plot and i’ll come to u. matty is not as big of a pos as most of my other character so hopefully y’all like him. catch his pinterest HERE. more info under the cut~

( jeremy allen white )? no that’s ( mathieu sauvé ) the ( twenty-four ) year old ( hockey player ). who has been in town ( one year ) and reminds everyone of ( crushed beer cans, freshly sharpened ice skates, and goofy chipped tooth smiles ). maybe it has something to do with the fact the ( cismale ) is always ( self-indulgent & vacuous ) or ( enthusiastic & dependable ). either way ( he/him ) is apart of the town.

goes by matty bc most people can’t say mathieu right. if u call him matthew...........he will be very upset because he is a lil snooty québécois bitch !!!! idk if y’all are or know anything about french canadians but they are indeed snooty (as one of them i can Confirm)

he got a cute lil accent hon hon hon

anyway !!!! he was born and raised in montreal by a single mom, and spent basically his entire childhood playing hockey. if not on skates for the league team, then on the road playing with the other neighbourhood kids.

he had a twin named gabriel & the two of them were......absolute best friends. total inseparable but they were v different and were in totally different crowds in high school ?? his brother was more of a like.....skid i guess asdhkj like wasn’t rly in the good crowd & he was bullied a lot in school and......matty wanted to stick up for him but at the same time didn’t want to like fuck up his own reputation u kno ??  he was kind of a dick

gabe ended up passing away from an overdose after a party when they were 16 and it was rly fucking awful like......that’s was his twin man and suddenly he was gone??? and suddenly he was filled to the brim with guilt and regret for not sticking up for him and helping him out when he had the chance

he was very angry about the whole thing & rly......actually made him better at hockey??? it provided him a rly good outlet to get his frustrations out

and also he partied a LOT

his professional hockey career started when he was 18, right out of high school playing for the ahl toronto marlies and played for them up until last year

he is what the cool kids call a goon........or an enforcer if u wanna be fancy. basically that mean he just.....fights people?? like anyone who does one of the better players or the goalie dirty it’s just his job to fuck them up by checking them v aggressively or just....decking them ( which he prefers tbH he luvs to fight)

so he isn’t really great at the game itself but he is good at what he does and he gets a fuck ton of penalties but that just means he’s doing his job right (kind of shdifjf)

his nickname is the suave scrapper

rn he is a prospect for the arizona coyotes and plays for their ahl affiliate, the tuscon roadrunners. he just played with them for the first time in their 2017-2018 season

and honestly thank god bc he fucking hates toronto with a passion. decided to live in tallow bc it seems like a nice lil place and he doesnt mine the commute.

he......hates the weather tho like ya boi needs the cold to live!!!!! his canadian ass is dying

10000000000% a mama’s boy. he misses his mom so much....prob talks to her on skype or facetime every day. she is his entire world and he loves her sm

probably the dumbest person u will ever meet. he lacks academic smarts as well as just general common sense. ur run of the mill idiot. he’s very like.....me play sport, me punch things. probably just recently learned how to do his own laundry

basically a man child

he loves food and he eats A LOT. but he is an athlete so he needs those carbs goils !!!!!! he rly loves american food like give him a big ol’ cheeseburger and he’s drooling like a dog. also loves breakfast foods like way too much

but other than that he’s generally v healthy bc...he’s gotta be

has had too many concussions to count and has a bunch of fake teeth after having ‘em knocked out or chipped while playing hockey. he won’t tell u which ones tho. but it’s a lot

he was really popular and cool in high school (bc that’s how hockey bois be) and he had a lot of girls that like fawned over him, which rly distorted his own perception of himself and now he thinks he’s like.....rly hot shit and that he’s very charming when really he’s just a big dumb oaf 

but he honestly just........loves girls so much??? he loves everything about them and he’s very open about this. like...not even just banging girls but just generally he thinks that girls are the most wonderful beings to grace the earth and he will worship any girl who even TALKS to him or gives him the time of day. girls are so magically and he has a crush on every girl he meets

he’s definitely the kind of person to have had a lot of girlfriends in the past not bc he’s a player or anything but bc like i said....he has a crush on every girl ??? he just gets so lonely when he isn’t like seeing someone or isn’t like.....flirting with or like doesn’t have a thing with someone i guesS???? he just loves love and has a lot to give

thinks ppl who are just being nice are flirting and thinks ppl who are flirting are just being nice

so he’s like........lowkey a soft boy even tho he is very.......punchy

at the same time tho he is kind of a dick and will be like.....talking to other guys about how many girls he’s fucking and how he’s such a ladies man and whatever but he actually is......a bumbling mess and the worst at flirting but that doesn’t stop him from trying

doesn’t understand that sex doesn’t equal feelings ??? and.....fwb don’t rly work out for him bc he is destined to catch feelings and then be like shook when they aren’t reciprocated

just recently got out of a pretty long relationship?? him & his girlfriend lana tried to make it work long distance bc she didn’t want to leave toronto and it didn’t work out, and she dumped him a few of months ago. he found out that she was cheating on him both before and after he moved away. it was very difficult for him & they dated for a p long time so he is still like....v heart broken but he’s getting back out there

he started smoking because lana did and he wanted her to think he was cool and now he wants to quit but can’t bc.....every cigarette reminds him of her and he’s a big sappy idiot with a broken heart

but he doesn’t do any drugs!!!!! obviously he is a Sports man

he drinks a lot tho. always has and always will love beer with a burning passion. he parties a lot and is basically always hungover but he’s here for a good time not a long time!!!!!!!!!!! just wants to have fun and do this Thing

he is very social and can’t like......stay home alone for long period of time??? like he needs friends and needs to be out doing something or else he goes insane

he is very loyal tho like.......would definitely set himself on fire & fight 7 thousand people for u if ur his friend

very goofy & always joking around. to be quite honest..............he is a walking talking Meme

he is a simple man. not very complicated. he’s honest for the most part and what u see is what u get. a very good listener. u can depend on him and he will b there

probably definitely mostly straight but who knows tbh

ok here’s some connections y’all can...throw at me

workout buddies!!! u know he’s living that Gym life & doesn’t like to be alone so that would b lit

friends!!!! pls he needs...........................so many or else he will Die

hookups !!! fair warning tho he will.....prob fall in love w them

party pals !! ya boy is a party animal and again...he ain’t gonna do it alone!!!

maybe....someone that makes him rly mad & he wants to figHT them

idk to be honest.....anything

more can b found here

[lonespektr]

Starting back Vikings again randomly........

blue eyes still hasn't fucked that priest

When's he gonna bang the priest, he doesn't like his new wife 🤷🏾‍♀️

Rollo needs a win/ cmon lady archers

Stop listening to random men, every main character gets bad advice from randos

Very deliberate word choice

Blue eyes is do butthurt his boyfriend is not coming with him priest is literally staying for you, you blockhead

Men are idiots

Tomgirls trying to sit still and look pretty when they clearly want to punch people

They keep using attempted rape for her power ups and they could do literally anything else

Glad the mrs is back

She's worried about jr but it looks like he can fight brother still absolutely in love with the mom cause she's a bad bitch

But he would have cheated too soo 🤷🏾‍♀️

He's big but it doesn't look like he hits hard, he's moving frantically, he doesn't lean into his hits??

The bows are used in short range i feel like it's that accurate??!!

Nobody is hyped the mrs is home and i feel like that was a wasted opportunity

Priest is attracted to bad people

Everybody got a shower

Who ever is subing the sound effects is a fucking poet Every grunt has a adjective

Always gotta upstage your brother just fukkkin relax

He's rejected the sacrament dunt dun dun!!!

Cheese and crackers woman how many boys you churnin out

What's the science? Boys are faster swimmers so short vagina?? I forget

She's gloating

Yea no shit. He don't even like that other future telling bitch

Rollo just stick with old girl u are bad at politics

This is a very sexual prayer priest

You tryina get what by the holy spirit??!! Save that for blue eyes

Thorvard big as fuck

That boy ain't got no right being that big his parents is normal sized

If i wanted to say it in private i wouldn't fucckkin come down to long house

Who's fuckkin army is that , just her homies?? She got warrior homies?

Ah she just wanted to threaten the general community that if anything happen to hey son it's they ass

Yea those'r just her homies

Another sexual assault threat but in an unexpected turn is events his kinsman ain't down with that shit and backed her

Infamous wings pf the vikings

More sexual assault threats

Whoever is writing these subtitles is a fucking legend

Priest new boyfriend is in wooing his old boyfriend's ex wife and he has to be an awkward translator

Wack what a serious waste of ambition

Them two rando little boys already died they really gotta take the one bitch was leadership vibes

She threw away throne thrown for dinner snot nose kids

He play too much, but they are great together

Preist done diddled that brown hair plain and not blue eyes

Vikings does appear to have a strict all rapists must die policy (marital rape excluded- even that's appears to have consequences)

Surprised they let siggs go but i think she landed a better role, shes a bigger actor then all em

I still don't know which god he was supposed to be. Guess i gotta brush up on my norse history

What's rollo gonna go without his political advisor

That guy coulda had a bigger role but this was 6+years ago and he was not as big then so..makes sense

Preist talking shit about women knowin damn well he just left a perfectly boring one to be with sky eyes

Hypocrisy , ungrateful ass volunteer to help the mother of your child

Screw everybody and they mama, leave yo wife month at a time with no backup booty

Why you only slept with yo wife once? 🤨

Seer tied of yo ass

Sky eyes just move to Paris with the preist

They are doing a sharp turn with him that is uncharacteristic, they haven't done a power corruption thing or anything to transition him from opportunist to greed

Also wtf boo /This is your earldom ??? You just gon stand there?

Still holding with the rapist get stitches law

Burning cross bit heavy handed

Bjorn tell your wack ass absentee father to back your mom

Yea we have been here before, cause your dad keeps fucckin up, you forget last time you left with her cause you knew he was wrong

Blue eyes has become a kind of apathetic shell without preist and wifee no1

Um wtf was that with the 👀

Just fuck already

Can the women have a story not around babies

Where rollo headed?

This is evidence of a turning point we should have gotten a half step before this

Except she was taking care of the one kid you ignore and you know damn well that priss don't do no work and her servants watch her kids anyway

Lol whut person or persons unknown, but you have evidence?

King got plans on plans on plans

Do they just not know what to do with the preist anymore??

Hey least he said it

That was the least intimate interaction he's had with anyone

Disrespect on disrespect

I think they are going to do something stupid with her 🙄 looking forward to that

Woah full stop yikes 😬

Another unforced error. I knew they were gon do some dumb shit with her, no he actin stupid too

This really there seasons about an unrequited love story

It gets boring when the main character is white male tyrannical and off his rocker - when he's not a zealot

Mentally ill opportunist are not very complelling

I'm annoyed blondie is really confessing to a man who has been treating her like shit for the past decade because a first good decade

Unforced errors and making her stupid is something shows love to do with women

But they gave her so much pride it doesn't make sense

I thought maybe they all knew, but it's just bjorn

Blue eyes was hoping for a confession

Why do you tear me away from myself

Trojan horse is the only thing that ever made sense with impregnable walls even with that hint he still couldn't figure it out, he had to almost die

Rollo is out here now? Why doing what?

I mean tbh is a really good idea to get away from your brother

Oh so the King isn't a complete idiot, just a coward

Another betray your brother situation 🙄

Just let rollo needs live

All our protagonists are isolated

He still didn't get that confession

Oh he just said it

What was the point of that Christian coming to visit?

Lit of obsessive unhealthy male relationships

Floki/Ragnar

Althestan/Ragnar

Ragnar/ rollo

How would rollo even convince the remaining vikings to go against their own

Now we must be subjected to this embarrassment

Co Earls, this guy is a not confused about his endgame

He should have just married her when she asked

There is one asian

If this the season where the non whites enter? They should have done that in Paris

He's an absentee father but he's annoyed his kids are stupid

Floki bb hella cute

It's odd the show has isolated everyone

He's such as gaslighter

The only stable relationship is the ones between the mentally unstable people

The two best pairings were both uneccesairly antagonistic towards each other

What's rollo doing

Le sigh she's smiling because she thinks he backed her , finally someone did she deserves to be supported

But he only backs himself

Time inside learning could be useful for him

Even rollo is not this stupid soooo 🤷🏾‍♀️

Blue eyes mad that his wife doesn't give a shit about him, knowing damn well he don't give a shit about her

Rollo 👏🏾 isn't 👏🏾 stupid👏🏾

He also wouldn't ally himself with strangers 🤷🏾‍♀️ it's a repeat pattern of making the wrong allies but this don't make sense

Hopefully bjorn gets more interesting

Or another woman character not attached to a damn man comes in

1 poc is already gettin eyeballed by ol blue eyes

What old lady would be concerned with getting revenge on is wessex king who raised her new settlement to the ground

There's that projection again blue eyes

The rollo situation is getting close to puppy punching

He looses his accent a lot

Blue eyes has odd codependencies

Man has no loyalists but strong affections that look like loyalty from afar

Why are they all obsessed with this fucking guy

Predatory men who pretend to be small and unassuming to trick women

She choked those words out, I wonder how many takes they made her do before they went with that one

This descent into madness isn't nearly as entertaining as they think

That's the first time he's called her by her first name

Curious move bjorn /curious situation they pulled moms into

They make women look stupid by having them smiling the whole time while men who are being equally deceived look suspiciously but they are tricked just the same

Once again he just identifies foreigners as roadmaps to conquer new lands

Gaslighter all these men are gaslighters

All these braids and this is the first time i've seen one of the man brushing they hair

It's going to be four full seasons of wounded mentally ill drug addicted blue eyes??

there it is, that was his dream, not the crazed ambitions of winning for winnings sake

Opportunistic and talented or rather lucky is different than tyrannical and that's what they are playing him as with no foundation

I know she tired of these dirty whites raggety ass wash rags she want a real bath with soap

Random edge play over the top hair cutting symbolism

That bb old enough too...ok

The girls were ready. And he even ain't mad because she told him straight up she was going to kill him

She doesn't want to remarry, she's better boss ass bitch but it's fucked up she can't just have a decent man partner and equal but these men are trifling they may as well get her a girlfriend

Is the seer dead?

It's 13 right?

Heavy handed women freedom theme happening

[cristixntm]

𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭  𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧.

[ XAVIER SERRANO / POLYTROPOS / CAERUS / MUSE 36 ] / [ CRISTIANO MONTERO ] is a [ TWENTY-ONE ] year old [ BUSINESS ADMINISTRATION ] major. [ HE ] is known for being [ CHARMING & CLEVER ] but [ INSOUCIANT & INSENSITIVE ].  when i think of them, i imagine [ A CHEEKY WINK FROM ACROSS THE BAR, LATE NIGHT ‘U UP?’ TEXTS, THE CLENCH OF A JAW BEHIND A COCKY SMIRK, RICH BOYS DON’T HAVE HEARTS ]. and even though they’re a proud HU student now, we all have our roots. theirs run back to them being a [ MHP ( AQUA ) ] graduate.  i asked around and it turns out they [ AREN’T ] an AOP student. in their interview, they managed to woo the admissions team by [ PRESENTING A FIVE-FIGURE INVESTMENT PORTFOLIO THAT WAS STARTED FROM $10 ]. i guess that’s all there is to know! unless…

howdy hey frands! i’m jocey ( 24, she/her, est ) & this is my trash son, cristian. not me reusing an old intro and still getting this up late……. mmYEP luv that for me! if you would like to plot, hit that like button & i’ll come your way or feel free to hmu on discord ( jocey#9154 ).

full name : cristiano javier montero de barra nickname : mostly goes by cristian age : twenty-one sexuality : heterosexual hometown : madrid, spain / los angeles, california high school : marble hill prep ( aqua house ) HU house : polytropos major : business administration extracurriculars : eleusinian circle ( legacy ), soccer ( centre forward )

cristian is the second and youngest born to javier montero and alisa de barra. his dad is the CEO of montero properties, the developer behind many big name casinos and resorts around the world, while his mom is an actress who starred in several spanish telenovelas and hollywood films.

originating from spain, the montero family had always been a familiar face in the media, with both cristian and his older sister having large followings on social media. the montero’s had a reputation for living extravagantly and lavishly, and often flaunted their 1% status.

out of the whole family, arguably the one with the most controversial reputation was cristian — one of the heirs to the montero fortune, fuckboy extraordinaire with an impressively long list of ex lovers, and all around entitled trust fund brat ( whEW hate that!! ). taking full advantage of his family name, he was always seen at the exclusive events and partying, even hooking up, with some well-known names.

but with the family name also came the expectation to be the picture perfect son and the responsibility to carry on the family legacy. unfortunately, parents never quite get exactly what they hoped for from their children, do they?

if there’s one thing you should know about cristian is that he will never do anything if he felt forced into it. his parents learned early on that hiring a good PR team and shipping their son off to a boarding school ( marble hill prep ) was easier than forcing him to behave. the fact that cristian’s dad was a MHP and HU alum and the montero’s family were big donors might have helped to keep him from getting expelled on one or two occasions.

still, to some extent, cristian did the bare minimum just to keep his parents off his back and his bank account essentially bottomless. he got good grades ( whether it was completely based on his own merits was a different story ), showed up to important events ( granted he was always drunk and late ), and charmed the pants off of interviewers and his admirers ( sometimes quite literally ).

attending hatchett unversity was just another thing that he did to keep his trust fund ( or so he says ). and who was he to turn down the good ol’ college experience? it was also the perfect way to keep his side business ( read: drug ring ) going.

running a boarding school turned college drug ring was never exactly something he’d planned on doing. like with most things in cristian’s life, the opportunity sort of just fell into his lap and he decided to run with it. call it a bored rich kid thing, but there was just something about earning his own cash in such a risky way that made it that much sweeter.

while those who know cristian may be aware of his connection to this drug ring, most assume that he’s just dealing and/or using his rich boi connections to bring in customers. only a select few know that he’s actually the brains behind the surprisingly well thought-out operation, and he prefers to keep it that way.

cavalier fuckboy with a heart of gold… ( underneath a shit ton of asshole layers, that is ) basically summed up cristian. he always puts out this very lazy, devil-may-care image of himself, and acts like someone who could not give two shits about anyone other than himself. call him a selfish asshole and he’d probably agree with you. but when it comes to his closest friends, the ones he considered to be his real family, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for them.

most write cristian off as this spoiled, reckless and directionless loose cannon, who maybe had one braincell on a good day. but underneath it all, he’s a lot smarter and more calculating than many people give him credit for and believe it or not, actually does think things through. but he believed that expectations just led to disappointment, so it was better to not have anyone expect anything of you. hence the perfected facade he’s kept up for as long as he could remember.

he is, however, not so smart when it comes to his love life and is notoriously bad at juggling his booty calls. as in, getting all their names mixed up, and running into a booty call number three, who he’d ghosted, when he was with booty call number five. but then again… could it all just be an act to get out of any and all potential relationships? who knows?

WANTED CONNECTIONS. most connections are open to multiple people filling it, unless it’s crossed out. and ofc i’m always open to any ideas not listed here!

RICH BOI SQUAD ━  they’re those guys. the popular, rowdy bros who are always seen together, they throw the best parties and cause a bunch of mayhem together. honestly just a bunch of obnoxious alpha dudes who think they’re hot shit.  taken by kennedy king

#1 SINCE DAY 1  ━  cristian’s best bro since the beginning of time ( or close enough ), who’s been there through all of his constant shenanigans and wild times.  taken by felix könig

BEST GAL PAL  ━  probably one of the few girls cristian’s managed to not try to hook-up with, or constantly flirt with. someone who helps him remember the names of all the girls he’s hooked up with plz lol. it’s rare that he’s protective over someone, but he’d absolutely throw hands for her if needed.  taken by caroline fitzgerald

CONFIDANT  ━  someone who actually knows cristian very well and sees through his lazy rich boy act. one of the very few people who he’s completely opened up to and genuinely cares about not fucking up their friendship.  taken by florence trask

MOM FRIEND  ━  basically a mama bear who looks out for cristian and may be one of the few people he actually listens to. doubles as his moral conscience/good influence when he wants to do dumb rich boy things.  taken by giada vitale

PSEUDO SIBLING  ━  they have a sibling-like relationship, where he’ll annoy them sometimes and they mom friend him. but they’re always looking out for each other.  taken by odette könig

CHILDHOOD FRIEND  ━  someone he grew up with. they could still be friends to this day, maybe they grew apart, or maybe they never really clicked.

UNLIKELY FRIEND  ━  the last person you’d expect to be friends with cristian. possibly met during a school project or something, and they realized that he’s… actually… not that bad?? despite what everyone says about him and his reputation, y/m sees that he’s not really as big of an asshole as he comes off and is actually kind of tolerable one on one. kind of.  taken by dorian garcia

FAVOURITE ANNOYANCE  ━  they got on cristian’s nerves at first, but eventually, they grew on them. whether he admits it or not, they do have some kind of friendship and deep down, he does enjoy their company.  taken by astrid mae

DEALERS  ━  basically dealers who work for cristian, who is the supplier. he may seem like a clueless hot mess, but rest assured, he takes care of his own. as long as that loyalty is returned.  taken by felix könig

ON & OFF  ━  cristian has had a lot of flings and hook-ups, but this person has been the one constant in his life. their “relationship” ( if you can call it that ) is kinda messy because he ( and maybe she as well? ) won’t commit, but is also surprisingly chill.

HOOK-UPS / FWBS  ━  whether you like cristian or not, people can’t really deny that he’s good-looking rip. he’s known to have a bit of a roster of girls that he hits with those late night booty-calls/texts.  taken by diana radcliffe

PAST HOOK-UPS / FWBS / ONE NIGHT STANDS  ━  homeboy has been around the block and back more times than he can count on two hands, so he’s definitely got a long list of ex-luvas. especially ones who hate him cuz he’s the worst™.  taken by isadora banks, daphne moon

ENEMIES  ━  cristian’s the kind of guy who easily has a lot of people who don’t like him. he practically has no filter, so his big mouth and careless words are bound to rub some people the wrong way. or maybe he screwed y/m over to save his own ass.  taken by belinda torres, camille jung

[x-everrosekillings-x]

Reflection: Game # 1

A night of poker turns into a rescue mission when Daryl Dixon discovers an old friend is being abused by her husband, locking her in their bedroom when she wasn’t cooking or entertaining him and his friends, hitting her if she so much as speaks a word without his permission. Daryl is far too familiar with what it’s like to be abused. He takes it upon himself to make sure she gets out safely.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of drug use, sexual harassment by spouse

Word count: 2,336

I was sitting in our recliner when Merle grabbed his keys from our so called kitchen table and stumbled as he fumbled with them.

Where the hell is he goin’ now?

“Hey, little brother. Wanna come? It’s poker night with the boys.”

That’s right it’s Friday ain’t it.

“Gonna be a hell of a good time.” He said, slurring his words a bit. I noticed his eyes were glazed over.

He’s high, again.

As much as I didn’t want to go, I didn’t want him driving’ high as a fucking kite neither. He’s an asshole but he’s still my brother. I snatched the keys from his hands, he looked a bit offended, not that I gave a crap.

“I can drive, Daryl.” He said.

“Nope. No way in hell am I lettin’ you drive.”

“Whatever.” he said. Seemed to be his catch phrase lately.

I headed over to Merle’s old red pick up, the thing had to be older than me. The body was covered with rust but it ran and that’s all that mattered. I jumped into the drivers seat, Merle joining me in the passengers. I inserted the key and turned it. The rust bucket turned over a few times before it started.

The drive was pretty quiet. The silence only being broken by Merle telling a story about some broad he had been with the night before. “Oh boy little brother, she was a looker. Didn’t have to do much this time. She was all over me. Didn’t even have to get ‘er that drunk!” I just hummed “Mmhmm” in response. He was always bringing home some new girl, but always getting them drunk first. They were your typical dyed bleach blondes that had nothing better to do that sleep with a guy they just met. Though, Merle always had his way with the ladies. Me on the other hand, not so much.

The guys place we were going to wasn’t that far, just down the road a bit. I never liked the guy. I met him only one other time. Something just seemed a bit off about him. Couldn’t tell you what though. All I knew is that he was dating an old friend of mine, Elizabeth. Known her since we was kids. Even had a crush on 'er but was never sweet on her. I kinda regret that.

We pulled up to a run down trailer. The trucks brakes screeched as we came to a halt. The heavy metal door squeaked as I shoved it closed. Merle and I walked up to the door, it opened before either of us could knock. The man that greeted us was on the taller side. He wore a stained, white wife beater with jeans that had holes ripped in them. His brown hair looked like he had just gotten out of bed. Could of used a shave too.

“Merle! My ol’ friend, how ya’ been?”

“Good, good. Scott this is my little brother, Daryl.”

“Always a pleasure to meet another Dixon. Put 'er there.” Scott said as he reached his hand out towards me.

I looked at his hand and then back at him. I’m wasn’t much of a hand shaker and I most definitely didn’t want to shake his. So I continued to stare until Merle stepped in.

“He’s just a bit shy is all. Ain’t that right little brother?” Merle said putting an arm around me and laughing nervously.

“Yeah.” I said quietly, shifting my weight to my other leg and crossing my arms.

“Don’t worry we’ll loosen ya up yet Daryl.” Scott said, given’ me a slap on the back. “Come on in! Can my wife get you somethin’ to drink?”

I looked around to find Elizabeth standing in the middle of it.Wife? When did that happen? She said nothing as we entered. Her eyes were planted to the floor and her hands folded in front of her. Some of her long brown hair had fallen into her face. She wore a low necked shirt and a pair of shorts. Her face was peppered with freckles. The make up around her eyes was smudged giving her a slight raccoon look. Still she was darn pretty.

“Elizabeth would you mind gettin’ these gentlemen somethin’ to drink?” Scott said. He placed a hand on her waist. She jumped at his touch. With a nod she went to the fridge, bending over to grab two beers. Scott walked over and smacked her bottom with the palm of his hand.

“Ain’t she got a fine ass fellas?” He said with a grin.

Elizabeth stiffly walked over to me and Merle, handing us each a beer. Merle wasted no time opening his without a word.

“Thanks Liz. Is it alright if I call ya’ Liz?” I asked.

“Sure, you can call 'er whatever you like. I prefer sweet cheeks myself.” Scott interrupted. Putin’ an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in to him. “Isn’t that right, puddin’?”

“That’s right, baby.” She said. A fake smile spreading across her lips.

Believe me, I know when a women is faking a smile. I may not have that much experience with women but my mama was a master at it. That is, until she died in a fire. That’s what brought us to this part of the state anyway.

“I prefer to call 'er by 'er name. That’s why she’s got one ain’t it?” I snarked back at him. His smile disappeared from his face.

A knock at the door broke his attention from me. He moved from her side and made his way to the door. Three more guys.

Great, it’s a fuckin’ party.

Scott gave them the same introduction he gave us. Offering to have his wife get them drinks. But instead of smackin’ her bottom he grabbed her breasts makin’ her almost drop the beers she had in hand.

This guy is really startin’ to piss me off. Why doesn’t she stand up for 'erself? She shouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit.

I took a swallow of my beer as Merle introduced me to the others. I gave a slight nod of my head as a greeting. I didn’t bother learning their names. Not like this was going to become a regular thing.

“Alrighty boys let’s play some poker!” Scott announced raising his beer in the air.

We all go over to an old table that sat in he middle of the kitchen. A total of six chairs were at it. Sitting down, Scott pulled Elizabeth on to his lap, placing a kiss on the side of her neck. My muscles grew tense and I balled my fists.

For christ sake can he just stop already?  God, I need a cigarette.

I pat the pockets of my jeans and then the breast pocket of my plaid cut off shirt.

Shit, I forgot 'em.

“Anyone got a cigarette?” I asked with a sigh.

“Yeah.” One of the guys who’s name I hadn’t learned said. He reached into the breast pocket of his shirt, pulled out a pack, and handed it to me. I took one out of the carton and handed it back.

“Thanks, man.” I said as I placed it in my mouth and grabbing a lighter out of my pocket. I flicked the spark wheel and an orange flame appeared. Bringing the flame to the end of the cigarette I drew a breath in causing the nicotine laced smoke to fill my lungs. My muscles relaxed as I exhaled slowly, sending a cloud in front of me.

We started the first game, Scott dealt out the cards. I’m wasn’t much of a poker player but I knew my way around the table. The hand I was given wasn’t anythin’ special. We all placed our bets, I threw in a few chips. Taking turns we went around the table laying down our cards my. I went first.

“Straight” I said taking another drag on my cigarette and taping the ashes into the ash tray.

“I fold” The guy who gave me a cigarette said.

“Me too.”

“Three of a kind.” Scott said.

“Flush” said the other unknown man.

“Full house!” Merle said with a laugh. “Looks like I won this round fellas.” He said as he pulled in the poker chips that laid in the middle of the table.

“Good hand Merle. Wouldn’t expect anything less. How about you go give the man a kiss, babe.” Scott said patting Elizabeth’s bottom.

She rose from his lap and walked over to Merle. I watched her the whole time. Her blue eyes never leaving mine. She looked like she wanted to tell me something. Once she reach Merle, she bent down to place a kiss on his cheek but Merle turned his head at the last moment making her lips meet his.

“Thanks darlin’.” He said softly.

I smacked his shoulder and said “What the hell?”

“What? I can help myself. A girl like that, I gotta take what I can get.” He said with a sly grin.

I press my cigarette into the the ash tray, putting it out. My muscles grew tense again and watched as she returned to Scotts lap.

“Mind if I use your bathroom?” I asked.

“Go ahead. Lizzy here will show ya.” Scott said shuffling the cards. “Want us to wait for ya?”

“Nah. Go ahead and play.” I said getting up from my chair.

Elizabeth rose from his lap as with out a word showed me the way. She stopped suddenly, almost making me bump into her. I stop and look at her.

“Listen, I need to talk to ya’.” I whispered. “Something’s not right with you and Scott, any dumbass can see that. Now what is it? Is he hittin’ ya or somethin’?”

She stared into my eyes and  muscles in her jaw tensed up. I stared right back at her. In her eyes was something so familiar. Anger? Fear?

“The bathroom is right through that door.” She said with her voice thick with a southern accent.

“Fine. You don’t have to tell me, I’m just trying ta help.”

She turned her back to me and sighed as she crossed her arms, taking a few steps away from me. I sighed and pursed my lips. Taking a a step towards her I lowered my voice back down to a whisper.

“Listen, if at anytime you want me to help jus’ give the word. One word and that’s it. Alright?”

I brushed her shoulder with mine as I walked past her and back out to where the guys were.

“What were you two doin’ that took so long? Wait, I know. You were bonin’ her weren’t ya’ Daryl? Can’t say I blame ya’. She’s one fine piece a ass.” Scott said as Elizabeth and I re entered the room.

“We was just catchin’ up. I’ve know 'er since we was kids.” I said sitting back down.

“Is that right? You never told me you knew Daryl, puddin’.” Scott said as Elizabeth returned to his lap.

“It was a long time ago. I didn’t think to mention it.” She said shrugging her shoulders.

We continued to play long into the night. Merle was downing beer after beer. He easily drank ten or more. I drew each drink out, only having drank three by the end of the night, though I kinda wished I drank more.

I helped Merle from his seat and made sure he was steady on his feet before lettin’ him go. He stumbled towards the door, nearly falling a few times before catching the door to steady himself.

You still can’t hold your damn liquor can ya’ Merle?

“See you both next week?” Scott called after us.

“You know it buddy!” Merle said  a little to loudly.

I looked back at Elizabeth and her bright blue met mine once again.

“See you next week Daryl?” Scott asked.

My eyes moved from hers to his. “Yeah.” I said.

I flashed my gaze back to her one last time in search of that familiarity that I saw before. I turned back to the door and left.

The drive back home was quiet. Merle had passed almost instantly. I was tired myself and could wait to go to sleep.

We pulled up in our driveway. I nudged Merle in an attempt to wake him up. “Merle.” I said. “Merle.” I repeated, nudging him a little harder each time.

“What ya’ want?” He grumbled.

“We’re home.”

“Leave me be.”

“Nope, come on.” I persisted.

“Did ya’ not fuckin’ hear me?” He said, raising his voice.

“Fine!” I said. I got out and just before I slammed the truck door I mumbled “Asshole.”

I walked up the steps to our old shack and opened the door. Upon entering, I threw the keys back onto the kitchen table and headed directly for my room. I sat down on my twin sized bed and it creaked beneath my weight. I reached over to the nightstand that was beside my bed and opened its drawer. In t sat a black revolver. I liked to check to make sure that it is there. Never know when you’re going to need it.

Tiredness had began to set and I removed my shirt and jeans as well as my boots. As I laid back on the bed and I adjusted myself into a comfortable position, propping one knee up and placing a hand behind my head and pulled the covers over my bottom half. I attempted to sleep but I found myself thinking about Elizabeth, making me sigh in frustration.

The house was quiet and I finally started to drift off to sleep when the sudden sound of the front door opening broke it. The footsteps that followed I knew were Merle’s. I turned my back to the doorway as he passed my room.

I glanced at the clock on the night stand next to my bed, 2:55 am. I didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

[danmacrae]

Silly 90s Intro Blab: A Thing To Skim Through On The Toilet

Hello! I’m semi-tolerable nuisance Dan MacRae! Why am I shouting at you? Not sure! Sorry, I’ll take it down a notch.

Instead of learning how to pleasure a woman or how to unlock the mysteries of grooming, I have devoted my life to TV nonsense. Blessed YouTube presence RwDt09 has been collecting these amazing compilations of era (and sometimes season) specific TV intros and they are my everything. Imagine having a child that didn’t suck? That’s the feeling RwDt09′s videos put in my heart.

I've been obsessively rewatching this collection of mostly forgotten early '90s TV intros. The bulk of these shows died a quick death and feel like the product of whatever drugs TV execs take. (Probably something snorted from one of those awesome McDonalds coffee straws they ditched in like 2002.) Because I'm a handsome pin-up hunk of the year, I wrote some dumb blurbs about the first few shows and have some stray thoughts on the rest. This appeals to no one but me AND I APOLOGIZE TO NO ONE!

In the immortal words of John Lennon, let’s get biz-zay!

DINOSAURS: I’m at a point in my life where I can acknowledge that Dinosaurs sucked. It’s incredibly freeing. Christ, this is like that stupid-ass Norman Lear show where dogs did social commentary BUT WITH HENSON PUPPETS! I hope Baby Sinclair was stomped to death and eaten as pudding before the extinction series finale. (Yes, that happened.) The intro isn’t bad, mind you. You get the lumbering theme song and Earl gets stuck in a door CUZ LAFFS! TIMES SURE HAVEN’T CHANGED HO HO HO! God I hate these fucking dinosaurs.

Intro MVP: It’s not a stellar pack, but we get a bit of Robbie Sinclair who census data has shown led to a variety of surprising sexual awakenings for youths at the time.

SCORCH: A 1300-year-old dragon named Scorch visits the 1990s on a budget that looks not far removed from Skank on The Ben Stiller Show. The song will make you want to barricade your sex organs from a world where you can bring children into a world with THAT CAWAZZZY SCORCH! The theme song really is a special brand of irritating and Scorch looks like a malformed Deviant Art dildo with a vaguely religious bent.

Intro MVP: Probably John O’Hurley for not actually appearing in the intro. (Even with O’Hurley’s weird résumé.)

FISH POLICE: Not to be confused with the (ARF! ARF! ARF!) Dog Police, Fish Police and Family Dog are shows I know almost exclusively from being mentioned as examples of the crappy post-Simpsons primetime animation gold rush. Fish Police actually looks good animation-wise, but it’s pretty clear you’re gonna be sledgehammered with endless “COULD YOU IMAGINE FISH DOING THESE OLD TROPES? DO WE NEED TO CALL A SEARCH PARTY FOR YOUR SIDES? ARE THEY SPLITTING ALREADY?” jokes. Congrats dipshits, you made a cinema-touched precursor to Frankie & George. You dummies. Also there’s the tone of casual racism UNDER THE SEA so do with that what you will. DID YOU SEE CHINATOWN? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT SHIT?

Intro MVP: Thank goodness they specified who John Ritter voices so we could all bask in Inspector Gil as a character name. Fuck you, Fish Police.

CAPITOL CRITTERS: Christ, this looks UNWATCHABLE. Like walk into oncoming traffic as an alternative unwatchable. Capitol Critters centers around an animated mouse named Max (voiced by Neil Patrick Harris) witnesses his family being murdered in Nebraska and moves to D.C. and wait what the fuck is going on with those roaches? (Racism, mostly.) Who thought this was a good idea to invest time, money and animator joint damage in? Stephen Bochco, baby! I have a perverse curiosity to see an episode but after 90 seconds I know I'd be dying to eat a fucking gun instead of suffering through any more of Capitol Critters.

Intro MVP: Gotta be Bochco. Also, EAT SHIT BOCHCO!

And now a really tiny blab about the rest. Watch this clip package, ya goofs!

FAMILY DOG: Folks were fucking horny for Spielberg TV shit in the 90s, ditto Tim Burton too and that's how an Amazing Stories, uh, story was morphed into a shitball TV series that Brad Bird wanted no part of. Also, I have no idea how to explain things like the CBS StereoSound chyron to anyone born after Clinton left office.

THE CRITIC: Nice to see you, Jay Sherman! This is a lovely intro and you likely know that already. I've done a few rewatches of The Critic (not the web series season, though) and I say the show definitely holds up and is far from a duketastrophe. That said, some of the parody film clips that got raves at the time are kinda creaky in hindsight.

CHARLIE HOOVER: Can I say something? Fuck Sam Kinison. Hmm... That's a bit harsh. I guess I just don't get him on any level. The only thing he's done that I've ever found all that funny was when he said he wished Andrew Dice Clay die of stomach cancer from the inside out, like Bette Davis. Kinison's not my cup of tea is what I'm getting at. In Charlie Hoover (GET IT HURF HURF), Kinison is a foot high loudmouth in a long coat that's getting 40-year-old square Tim Matheson where he needs to be in life.

A LEAGUE OF THEIR OWN: Or... "Betty Spaghetti's Here Which Is All The Star Power You Need!"

HARDBALL: A League Of Their Own had a fun, feel good intro with all the corny touches of ol' timey baseball. Hardball tries to sell you on Joe Rogan: Baseball Fella and the vague scent of urinal troughs.

GOOD GRIEF: Howie Mandel golfs in a cemetery and it's not particularly clear if he's just fucking around on strangers graves for fun. (Alternate Theory: Those graves belong to the family from Bobby's World. All the Generics!)

THE FANELLI BOYS: If enjoy broad Italian-American stereotypes to the point of falling down laughing at the sight of a pizza box, you'll love The Fanelli Boys! Joe Pantoliano and Christopher Meloni both star.

SOMETHING WILDER: Something Wilder was the sort of show where I wished Gene Wilder well and still kept 5000 miles away from watching it. Also, Wilder's face on that house is CHILLING.

DUDLEY: Embrace the luxury hotel elevator elegance of Dudley! Does it feature Dudley Moore make a series of faces where he seems surprised by everything? You better believe it. This was also where Max Wright got work in-between taking abuse from a cat eating alien and Norm Macdonald.

CAROL & COMPANY: It's a bit Carol Takes On in the intro with Carol Burnett in assorted costumes and that's alright because everyone does the assorted costumes intro thing. Tickets to the show are blown across America and get in the hands of whatever Orphan Black Carol happens to be in the area.

THE CAROL BURNETT SHOW: This is an extremely 90s sort of intro that feels like something more upscale soft rock stations did in TV ads at the time too. Richard Kind directs a bit of paper at someone midway through.

DREXELL'S CLASS: One of more storied entries in the Dabney Coleman being an asshole catalogue. The first intro features Dabney, ol' Drex himself, just hanging around in class being hot shit and occasionally mimicking a flying dinosaur. The second intro is a more traditional clip collection highlighted by a young Brittany Murphy (WHO WAS MURDERED! FACT! REMINDER!) and Coleman in a wild 8 ball jacket. Rembrandt off Sliders also makes an appearance.

TEECH: If this intro looks exactly like a sitcom where a Cool Black Music Instructor™ teaches Prep School bad boys in Bush Sr era America that's because it is exactly that sort of sitcom. Maggie Han deserves better.

THE ROYAL FAMILY: It seems extra cruel to take Redd Foxx's popcorn away considering he'd be dead before the fifth episode even aired. Della Reese is in this, die-hard Della fans.

ROC: This intro works perfectly. We get Charles S. Dutton, Ella Joyce and an easy to digest Jerry Lawson theme song. (En Vogue would do the theme later.) It’d be nice if they could get Edgar Allan Poe wagging a finger at seafood or something else in the background to push that Baltimore thing even more, but I still wish this intro from 25+ year old Fox comedy all the best in its future endeavours.

BREWSTER PLACE: Speaking of good intros, Brewster Place is a first rate brand of TV welcome. Brenda Pressley is the MVP of the intro over Oprah Winfrey which might explain why Brenda Pressley has been missing since 1992. (I know she’s on The Path. Just play along.)

SUNDAY BEST: The intro equivalent of getting someone to throw shit at a wall, we get an early 90s NBC grab bag of fuck it whatever shots of TVs and TV dinners with poor Carl Reiner trotted out partway through.

AMERICAN CHRONICLES: Mark Frost and David Lynch paired for a documentary series in the early ‘90s on Fox because Fox was like fucking UHF at the time. The industrial strength creepy opening doesn’t include any shots of narrator Richard Dreyfuss turning towards the camera and that’s a damn shame.

AMERICAN DETECTIVES: If you get horny for stressed out real-life detectives, this will send your undergarments to Mars! Lots of mustaches here. A whole Safeway bag’s worth. Some real rural gas station rock going on with that theme tune.

FBI: THE UNTOLD STORIES: The tone of this entire intro is: “Hey kid, wanna see a dead body? Or twenty?” Creepy music blasting over Jackie Kennedy on the back of JFK’s death limo and Wayne Williams heading to trial equals primetime party fun!

ENCOUNTERS: THE HIDDEN TRUTH: Suck it, Sightings! Encounters is leading a new dawn for crackpot horseshit to eat Bugles to! I appreciate the shameless X-Files knockoff intro thing Fox is doing (cuz it’s their show) that comes complete with head shop blanket alien head popping up midway through.

STEPHEN KING’S GOLDEN YEARS: Essentially Garth Marenghi's Darkplace with one hell of a music rights win tacked on.

TRIBECA: This opening reminds me an awful lot of terrible movies I was bullied into watching on VHS at a friend’s house.

WIOU: One thing I like in a TV intro is when something fun happens with the title onscreen. It’s a minor thing, but the way those WIOU letters turn into view? HOOCHIE MAMA! Eight is Enough’s Dick Van Patten does a fantastic job of conveying that being a weatherfellow is tough work.

GABRIEL’S FIRE: I will never for the life of me understand how the early ‘90s could not sustain a James Earl Jones fronted program titled Gabriel’s Fire. Those worlds are supposed to meld beautifully.

PROS & CONS: Gabriel’s Fire would morph into the more lighthearted Pros & Cons which symbolized its new form by laying it on thick with the Video Toaster touches. Instead of James Earl Jones peering at you from the darkness, this go-around it’s a lot of smiles and silly moments with Richard Crenna.

BURKE’S LAW: Hearing “it’s Burke’s Law” at the start of that intro is like when “Do you smell what The Rock’s cooking?” would play before Dwayne Johnson would wander down a ramp to kick Triple H in the stomach. In this case, it’s to get you fired up that Gene Barry’s back on television. This particular episode promises Dom DeLuise and Tawny Kitaen together at last!

MAX MONROE: LOOSE CANNON: If you only see one intro for a Shadoe Stevens vehicle that transitions from a Donut Hole shot to an extended leer at a lady’s bum, make it this one!

TEQUILA AND BONETTI: The creators of Tequila and Bonetti know that if you want folks to get on board for an L.A. dramedy about a New York cop and streetwise police partner dog, you should kick things off by trying to make you feel sorry for this asshole who “accidentally” murdered a kid. Seriously, that’s the route Tequila and Bonetti goes with this fucking insane opening that begins with newspaper headlines screaming “COP KILLS 12 YR OLD” while he cradles a black girl in her arms and then BOOM! we’re spun around to JACK SCALIA GRINNING AROUND WACKY LOS ANGELES AND ALL ITS CRAZY CHARACTERS LIKE A DOG THAT JUMPS THROUGH A FUCKING WINDOW WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE? THIS IS LIKE IF SOMEONE STROKED OFF THE HANNITY VIEWING AND KEPT WHAT WAS SPURTED OUT ONSCREEN! It’s just a really, really, really bad intro.

[rechief]

Queenie “Carolina” McMason’s “Big Ol’ Honkin’“ Character Questionnaire

Courtesy of @danscratch​.

Paging the Ultimate Carolina Fangirl, @temperamentalartist.

A. Psychology

What of the Meyers-Briggs personality types they most fit into? INFP, ENFT, et cetera…

Queenie pretends to be an ESFP -- “playful, enthusiastic, friendly, spontaneous, tactful, flexible ... strong common sense, enjoy[s] helping people in tangible ways,” -- but she is in fact an ESTJ -- “efficient, outgoing, analytical, systematic, dependable, realistic ... run[s] the show and get[s] things done in an orderly fashion,” per Wikipedia.

What alignment are they? Chaotic neutral, lawful evil, et cetera…

Queenie pretends (this will be a common theme) to be somewhere between lawful and neutral on the good spectrum, but is in fact neutral evil -- she is primarily motivated by self-interest and doesn’t care all that much about whose lives she has to ruin to get what she wants.

Do they have any emotional or psychological conditions? Are they aware of it?

Queenie is a sociopath, but she’s never been officially diagnosed. She is aware that her mental state is aberrant compared to others but doesn’t self-reflect enough to have pinpointed her particular condition.

Do they try to treat it?

On the contrary -- she contributes her condition to her success!

Are they a pessimist or an optimist?

Queenie is an optimist.

Are they good at handling change in their life?

Yes, especially if it’s an upward, or positive, change.

Does your OC tend to assume their interpretation of events and reality is correct, or do they question it? I.e., “I’m sure that’s what you said” versus “It’s possible I misheard you.”

Queenie is quite sure that her interpretations in that regard are correct -- her mental issues don’t come packaged with hallucinations.

Is your OC confident in their reactions to life in general, or do they get embarrassed or easily shamed for it? I.e., if something startles them, do they insist it WAS scary? When they cry, do they feel like they overreacted?

Queenie is confident regarding her reactions and is not easily embarrassed by such things -- but she’s happy to pretend to be in an effort to charm others.

Is your OC a martyr?

No.

Does your OC make a lot of excuses? For themselves? Others?

Queenie lies a lot, but rarely makes excuses.

Does your OC compromise easily? Too easily?

Certainly not.

Does your OC put others’ needs before their own?

Queenie genuinely enjoys taking care of others -- pampering them, that is, in a uniquely Southern way -- but she’ll also kill someone who’s inconveniencing her at a moment’s notice. So, sort of?

Does your OC have any addictions? If so and problematic, have they admitted it to themselves?

While Queenie is not addicted to drugs, alcohol, or any harder substances, she does enjoy the endorphin rush she gets from murdering others a hair too much.

Does your OC have any phobias? If so, where did they come from?

Queenie is happy to pretend that she’s frightened of things to endear herself to others, but she’s actually fairly rugged and has few phobias.

One phobia that she really, truly has is taphophobia -- the fear of being buried alive by mistake and later waking up in one’s own coffin. She rarely has nightmares, but when she does, this is most often what they involve.

Is your character empathetic?

In the sense that she can easily read and play off of the emotions of others, yes; however, she rarely uses this talent for good.

Is your character observant?

Extremely. Every waking moment of Queenie’s life -- even when it seems as though she is completely relaxed and at ease -- involves her analyzing everyone and everything around.

Does your OC have to go through their own trials to learn a lesson, or do they listen and learn from observation and lecture? I.e., does your OC listen when someone tries to tell them the importance of budgeting, or do they have to go experience what happens if you don’t budget first?

Queenie is quite an able learner, whether through lecture and observation or hands-on experience.

What’s one of your OC’s proudest moments of themselves?

”Oh, no, absolutely, Mrs. Redmond,” Queenie was saying, smiling broadly, her voice oozing with saccharine sweetness. “I completely understand. I’ll make sure to speak to Hunter about making better choices. Yes, ma’am. You have a great day yourself!”

The transformation took mere seconds. Almost as soon as she’d exited her daughter’s classroom, leading the blonde, dimpled, tomboyish second-grader by her hand, Queenie’s pleasant expression vanished -- quickly replaced by knitted brows, pursed lips, and a fire burning behind the Ultimate Southern Belle’s blue eyes.

”Mama,” piped up Hunter, looking up at her mother, clearly alarmed. “Are you mad at me?”

Queenie glanced down at her, and her expression softened. “’Course not, sweet pea!” she cooed, quickly, patting Hunter on the head. “I’m mad at your rotten, no-good, ain’t-got-half-a-brain teacher; that’s all.”

”... You are?” Hunter’s eyes -- hazel and stormy, like her father’s -- clouded over with confusion. “But you was bein’ real nice to her.”

”Sugar pie,” said Queenie, opening the door to her pickup truck, lifting her daughter by the hips, and then placing her in the passenger seat and buckling her up, “Mama was pretending to be nice to Mrs. Redmond to make sure you didn’t get a referral for punchin’ that nasty boy. What’s his name?”

”Johnny,” replied Hunter, glumly.

”Johnny,” hissed Queenie, as she eased into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. “Common name for a common fool. Ain’t nobody who ever amounted to nothin’ was named Johnny.”

”What about John F. Kennedy?” said Hunter, smartly. “He was president.”

"Yes,” replied Queenie, “and then he got killed. See what happens?”

For a little while, conversation between mother and daughter paused, with just the soft crooning of a country radio station, the tires rasping against gravel, and the roar of the engine from keeping the truck’s interior from lapsing into total silence.

”... So,” ventured Hunter, after a few minutes, “I ain’t gonna get in trouble for punchin’ Johnny?”

”Absolutely not,” spat Queenie, adamantly. “The little creep deserved it. Pickin’ on that poor, helpless girl -- why, I bet you’re just about her hero after what you did!” The belle momentarily took her eyes off the road to flash her daughter a sly grin. “As a matter a’fact, I’m proud of you, darlin’.”

Hunter’s eyes went wide. “You is?”

“Mhm!” Queenie was merging onto the main thoroughfare, now, and the truck’s engine whined as she pushed down on the gas pedal and shifted into a higher gear. “You did what needed to be done, and you did it well. I had to work real hard to keep from grinnin’ when Mrs. Redmond said you broke that boy’s nose. That’s a good job.”

“But...” Hunter was clearly still rather confused as to why she wasn’t being punished. “Mrs. Redmond said that next time I should tell her if I see someone botherin’ someone.”

“And what do you think would happen then?” replied Queenie, as she sped up to pass a slow-moving tractor trailer. “That boy wouldn’t get nothin’ more than a slap on the wrist, and then he’d be right back to bullyin’ whoever he darn well pleased.” She shook her head, blonde, wavy hair shimmering in the afternoon sun. “No. The method you chose was much more effective, honey-bunches. I’ll bet you that Johnny ain’t gonna be bullyin’ no one else for a good long time. The only thing we have to work on...” The woman’s grin broadened. “... is makin’ sure that next time, you don’t get caught in the first place.”

“You’re gonna teach me how to be sneaky?” asked Hunter, amazed.

“Oh, pumpkin,” said Queenie, slyly, “your pappy and I are gonna teach you many things. But first...” She smiled, brightly. “Wanna stop for ice cream on the way home?”

“Yes, Mama!” exclaimed Hunter, and then mother and daughter headed off to Dairy Queen to have ice cream and learn all about subterfuge.

Do they get jealous easily? Do they feel bad if they do?

Queenie gets very jealous extremely easily, but she doesn’t feel bad about it.

What instantly irritates them or puts them in a bad mood?

Yankees fans, someone else winning something that she wanted to win, microwaveable dinners.

Are they harsh on themselves?

Yes, in the sense that she’s very driven and will push herself beyond what’s reasonable in order to achieve her goals.

Is your OC intended to be found generally attractive? Unattractive? Average? Is there a reason why?

Queenie is stunning -- in fact, she’s probably the most attractive of my Tabletonpa/DRxZE OCs. This is due to a combination of excellent genes and incredibly hard work -- in spite of regularly feeding others heaping helpings of fatty, fried food, Queenie herself follows an incredibly strict regimen of diet and exercise in order to maintain what she considers a figure worthy of the Ultimate Southern Belle.

Does your OC place much importance on their appearance? Do they feel confident in it?

Yes; see above.

What are some of your OC’s biggest personal obstacles? This could be emotional, physical, social… Are they aware of it? Are they trying to overcome it?

Meeting Dustin “Fujita” De’Vil inspired Queenie to cease her serial-murdering ways and live life on the (relatively) straight and narrow, so her biggest obstacle is probably resisting the urge to solve her day to day problems with brutal and lethal violence.

B. Social

Do they believe you have to give respect to get it, or get respect to give it?

Queenie understands the importance of respect, but doesn’t think about it in those terms. For her, it’s more of a tool than anything sacred.

Do they get frustrated when lines at places like pharmacies, check-outs, delis, banks, et cetera, are moving slowly?

Yes, but she’s pretty good at amusing herself by imagining the ways in which she could swiftly dispatch everyone else in line.

Under what situations would they get angry at servers, staff, customer service, et cetera?

As someone who understands the stress that can be involved in taking care of others, Queenie doesn’t really take her frustrations out on service staff. The only situation where she might do so is if a server were to act unpleasantly toward her husband or daughter.

Do they tip well? How easily can they be moved to not leave a tip?

Queenie rarely eats out, but always tips generously.

Do they hold doors open for people?

Yes.

Would your OC let someone ahead of them in line if your OC had a big cart and the person behind them had very few items?

Yes, she would, since she does her best to always project an outward image of Southern congeniality -- but internally, she’d be bitter about it.

How do they respond to babies crying in public?

Queenie is excellent at getting babies to stop crying -- whether it involves making goofy faces, holding them and murmuring to them, singing to them, or any of the other tried-and-tested methods, she always seems to find the one that works.

Is your OC considered funny? Do they believe they’re funny?

Humor isn’t a huge part of Queenie’s skillset, but she can be funny when the situation calls for it.

What kind of humor does your OC like the most? Slapstick, ironic, funny sounds, scare pranks, xD sO rAnDoM…

Queenie pays attention to many different sources of Southern comedy -- blue-collar comedy tours, “you might be a redneck” jokes, and so on -- but this is mostly so that she can laugh appreciatively along when someone makes reference to them, in the same way that she pays attention to sports or politics.

Does your OC find any “bad” or “mean” humor funny? Do they wish they didn’t?

Not really.

Your OC is running late to meeting someone: Do they let the other person know? Do they lie about why they’re late?

Queenie would let the other person know ahead of time, and then concoct a charming story about why she was late.

Your OC orders something to eat and gets their order done in a pretty wrong way, something they can’t just pick off or whatnot to correct, or something major is missing. What do they do?

Queenie would send it back, but in a polite way.

Do they have a large or small group of friends?

Queenie has a large group of what could charitably be termed “associates” -- people who she spends time with and acts warmly toward, but who she mostly uses, like chess pieces, to advance her own goals. Her number of actual friends is much smaller -- probably limited to her husband, her daughter, and a select few other Hope’s Horizon alums.

Do they have people they are genuinely honest with about themselves?

Her husband.

Does your OC enjoy social events, such as parties, clubs, et cetera..?

Yes! They’re kinda her whole deal, especially if she’s hosting.

Does your OC like to be the center of attention or more in the mix?

Queenie delights in being the center of attention.

C. Morality

Does your OC have a moral code? If not, how do they base their actions? If so, where does it come from, and how seriously do they take it?

Queenie does not have a moral code. She acts based on whether her actions will benefit her or not.

Would your OC feel bad if they acted against their morals? If not, would they find a way to excuse themselves for it?

Morals?

Is it important for them to be with people (socially, intimately, whatever) whose major ideological tenets align with their own?

Not really! Queenie is fairly smooth and quite capable of charming just about anyone, irrespective of their own ideologies.

Do they consider themselves superior or more important than anyone else? Lesser?

Queenie considers herself superior to just about everyone that isn’t a blood relative (or married to her).

Do your OC’s morals and rules of common decency go out the window when it comes to those they don’t like, or when it’s inconvenient? Aka, are their morals situational?

Yes, frequently.

What do they do when they see someone asking for money or food? If they ignore them, why? If they help, how so?

Queenie would bring them something home-made the next time she was in the area.

Do they believe people change over time? If so, is it a natural process or does it take effort?

Queenie herself has made quite a change over time, so she certainly believes that, with effort, it’s possible.

Is your OC more practical or ideal morally? I.e., do they hold people to high expectations of behavior even if it’s not realistic for the situation, or do they have a more realistic approach and adapt their morality to be more practical?

... Morals?

D. Religion and Life and Death

How religious is your OC? What do they practice, if anything? If they don’t associate with any religion, what do they think of religion in general?

For the sake of appearances, Queenie takes her family to the local baptist church every Sunday -- but she is, in fact, agnostic.

Do they believe in an afterlife?

No.

How comfortable are they with the idea of death?

Funnily enough, for all the destruction Queenie has dealt in her life, she isn’t actually all that jazzed about dying.

Would they like to be immortal? Why, why not? If they are immortal, would they rather not be?

Yes! She’d relish the opportunity to be the center of attention for the rest of time.

Do they believe in ghosts? If not, why? If so, do they think they’re magical/tie into their religion, or are they scientifically plausible?

Queenie does not believe in ghosts, but she’s fine with pretending to be scared by them if the situation warrants, and she knows plenty of ghost stories for telling around the campfire to her daughter’s scouting troop.

E. Education and Intelligence

Would you say that your OC is intelligent? In what ways? Would your OC agree?

Queenie is whip-smart -- academically, but also socially and in terms of “street smarts”.

Which of the nine types of intelligence is your OC strongest in? Weakest? (Linguistic, existential, naturalist, et cetera)

Queenie is strongest in interpersonal intelligence -- sensing the feelings and motives of others -- and weakest in existential intelligence -- pondering the mysteries of human existence.

How many languages do they speak?

Queenie’s first language is English, which she speaks quite fluently. She also speaks enough Spanish (with a heavy Southern accent, of course) to interact with the Ms. Florida of any given beauty pageant, who is often Hispanic.

Did they enjoy school if they went to it?

Queenie relished the social and extra-curricular aspects of school -- she was the sort of student who was on every possible club and team. Cheerleading, basketball, volleyball, debate, academic olympics, you name it.

She didn’t enjoy the academic aspects of school quite as much, but was a straight-A student nevertheless.

What’s their highest education level? Do they want to continue their education?

Queenie went on to get her bachelor’s degree; she triple-majored (!!) in event planning, hospitality, and business.

Do they enjoy learning? Do they actively seek out sources of self-education?

Queenie appreciates learning from a practical standpoint, but doesn’t especially enjoy it.

Are they a good note-taker? Are they a good test-taker? Do exams make them nervous?

Queenie’s notes are excellent, written in a loopy cursive and often with a glittery gel pen. She excels under pressure, and as such, she is a marvelous test-taker who experiences no nervousness during exams.

What’s one of your OC’s biggest regrets?

I like to think that, later in life, Queenie came to regret the acts of subterfuge and violence that dominated her childhood and adolescence.

A little.

F. Domestic Habits, Work, and Hobbies

What sort of home do they live in now, if at all? How did they end up there?

Queenie lives in a plantation house on a vast estate in Tennessee -- property that has been in her family since they settled in the United States from Scotland prior to the Revolutionary War.

What’s their ideal home look like? Where is it?

Queenie’s ideal home is pretty much the one she’s living in now -- a big place surrounded by nature.

Could they ever live in a “tiny home”?

She’d hate it. How can you throw a big party in a small house?

How clean are they overall with home upkeep?

Queenie’s house is consistently spotless. She employs a small compliment of waitstaff to help her take care of it.

How handy are they? Can they fix appliances, cars, cabinets, et cetera?

Queenie is actually quite handy. She can put together furniture and appliances, perform basic maintenance on her pickup truck, build a tree-house for her daughter, and all manner of other difficult and laborious tasks. She’s quite good with power tools!

Fun fact: she learned how to use a table saw during an attempt to chop a body up into smaller pieces than usual. It was very messy, but ultimately successful.

How much do they work? What do they do? Do they enjoy it?

Queenie is an event planner, caterer, model, minor country music sensation, amateur dirt bike racer, and all manner of other fun Southern professions. In spite of all that, she balances her schedule out enough that she can spend plenty of time with Dustin and Hunter, her husband and daughter, respectively.

What’s their “dream career” or job situation?

See above.

How often are they home?

Queenie always makes sure that she has at least two days a week free, and is of course up early to make breakfast and home early to prepare dinner every day.

Are they homebodies and enjoy being home?

Queenie doesn’t mind being home, especially if she’s cooking or working on a project, but she loves being out in nature, too.

Do they engage in any of the arts? How good do you intend them to be? Would they agree they are?

Queenie is a talented singer and knows it.

What are some of their favorite things to do for recreation? How did they get into it? What part of it do they like the most?

Queenie enjoys swimming in, and sunning herself by, a lake on her property when she (rarely) has free time. She spends most of what would otherwise be leisure time playing with and raising her daughter, who she dotes on endlessly.

Would they enjoy a theme park?

Sure, but she doesn’t really seek them out.

G. Family and Growing Up

Is your OC close to their family?

Yes! Queenie was raised by a pair of perfectly normal parents: a lawyer (her dad) and a stay-at-home mother who both love her unconditionally and spoiled her rotten growing up. She’s also very close to her husband and daughter, of course.

Who makes up your OC’s family, at least the more important members to them?

See above.

Does your OC find their family supportive? If not, what would be an example why not?

Queenie’s family is very supportive of her!

What kind of childhood did your OC have?

Queenie’s childhood was quite eventful -- a constant flurry of activity. Gymnastics, cheer, cooking classes, ballet, music -- Queenie enrolled in as many and varied activities as she could, and was a consistently high achiever in everything she did.

And when someone rivaled her position at the top of the group, she literally murdered them!

Did they go through any typical phases growing up?

Queenie never really rebelled against her parents or went through the “moody teenager” phase -- she simply didn’t have a reason to.

Do they have any favorite childhood memories?

Queenie has many favored childhood memories -- this includes more normal ones, like winning a trip to a theme park for selling the most Girl Scout cookies, or coming in first place in a youth gymnastics tournament -- and more sinister ones, like the time, during a cake-making contest, that she ruined a competitor’s carrot cake by dumping salt in the batter; or the time she murdered a girl who tried to blackmail her into forfeiting a beauty pageant.

Queenie’s childhood was a wild ride!

Do they have any childhood memories they’d rather forget or be less affected by?

Queenie’s hands shook as she raised the opened bottle of bourbon above her abdomen -- and then, as the dark liquid splashed onto the gnarly, six-inch gash that ran along the right side of her stomach, she screamed through her teeth, frustrated tears streaming down her cheeks.

After three successful kills, someone had finally gotten the better of her -- for a little while, at least. She’d never have expected that Callie had it in her; the girl had always been so sweet, so quiet, so meek. When the creaking floorboard had given away the fact that Queenie was about to stab Callie from behind, she hadn’t expected her to turn, scream, “Not today, bitch!” and then wrestle her to the ground and cut her with her own knife.

Queenie had, of course, managed to wrestle the blade away -- and now Callie’s body lay in one corner, and her head in the other -- but still, it had been a close call. Too close. And now Queenie would have a scar for the rest of her life.

What’s more -- the pain hadn’t even begun. Grabbing a needle and thread that she’d retrieved, after crawling all the way across the room, from her sewing kit, she began to stitch the opening of that deep, gaping wound closed once again so that it would heal properly.

As she panted and hissed and tensed her muscles, she resolved to never forget this moment -- and to never get caught again.

H. Romance and Intimacy

What is your OC’s orientation, romantic and/or sexual? Has it ever been a source of stress for them? Have they always been pretty sure of their orientation?

Queenie is bisexual, which is something she’s been certain of since puberty. She pretends to be straight so as not to alienate her fanbase, but she has been intimate with a small handful of women who she’s sure, for one reason or another, would never tell on her.

Is your OC a thoughtful partner, in whatever aspect of that you want to cover?

Extremely! Queenie is a loving, caring, doting partner -- someone who would do anything, or hurt anyone, to ensure that her relationship remains in-tact.

Does your OC believe there’s only one ideal partner (or multiple ideal if not monogamous) for everyone, or that there are many people who could be right?

Queenie is a “plenty of fish in the sea” kinda gal who believes that one can potentially be compatible with many different people.

Does your OC believe in love in first sight?

Yes.

Does your OC believe in marriage (or their culture’s equivalent)?

Oh, yes. While a big part of her draw as a belle was, for some time, the fact that she was single, settling down with a handsome fella also proved to boost her appeal with a new demographic.

Has your OC ever cheated on anyone or been cheated on?

I’m sad to say that, yes, Queenie is one of my two characters who has been unfaithful, Reed being the other one.

While she’s never cheated on her husband, Dustin, there was a period of time in her teens where she dated a very wholesome boy with whom, for the sake of publicity, she had a pact of abstinence -- this is where her “purity ring” token comes from.

However, I imagine Queenie as the sort of person who wouldn’t have minded sating her libido with other partners during that time-span, since she didn’t think of her relationship as a “real” one and would’ve assumed similar intentions from her boyfriend.

She was surprised at how devastated he was when she dumped him later on.

What do they look for in partners? (Emotionally, mentally, physically…)

Physical attractiveness is important to Queenie, since it’s something she focuses on maintaining in herself a lot. What’s more important, however, is that her partner is as totally, utterly, and irrationally devoted to her as she is to them. Fortunately, Dustin fits the bill!

What’s your OC’s idea of a perfect date?

Anything from dancing at a lovely gala, to muddin’ and fishin’ out in the Tennessee wilderness, to making lightning bug lanterns and stargazing in her backyard. Queenie’s pretty versatile!

What are some things that your OC finds to be an instant turn-off in potential partners?

Boring people. Queenie loves seeing people who lead exciting lives, or who have interesting skeletons in their closets (like her).

I. Food

What are their favorite kinds of flavors– Sweet, salty, sour, spicy, creamy, et cetera?

When a lot of people think about Southern food, the first things to come to mind are fried food (especially chicken) and barbecued food (especially beef and pork). However, the South actually has a rich and varied culinary tradition! As such, it would be difficult to identify a flavor profile that Queenie doesn’t like or use in her cuisine.

Do they have any eating requirements or preferences? Allergies, vegetarian, organic-only, religious restrictions…

Definitely not.

Are they vegan/vegetarian (if their overall culture/species generally aren’t)? If so, why? Do they think animal products are wrong in all circumstances?

Queenie is absolutely not vegan.

How often do they cook? Do they order out a lot?

Queenie almost never orders out and cooks very nearly every meal that she and her family eat.

Are they a good cook?

Superb.

Could they eat the same thing they enjoy over and over and not get bored of it quickly?

Queenie enjoys varying what she eats not just for variety in taste, but also so that she doesn’t get bored of cooking the same thing over and over.

J. Politics, Current Events, Environmental Aspects

Where does your OC stand most politically? What would they align with most?

Queenie thinks of herself as being center-right -- and intentionally gives off the impression that she is staunchly right-wing -- but is generally more of a centrist, primarily because she is a strong proponent of environmental conservation and LGBTQ+ rights.

How politically aware are they?

Queenie has something of an average awareness of politics -- it isn’t her focus, but she still reads the news when she eats breakfast.

How politically active are they?

Not especially. Queenie votes, but that’s about it.

Is your OC the sort to fall for fake news? If not, do they ignore it or make a point to clarify that it’s wrong?

Queenie is far too sharp to fall for “fake news”, but she’s also perfectly willing to pretend to believe in it and propagate it if it will endear her fan-base to her.

Are they or would they protest for a cause they’re passionate about?

Not really, no. Protesters are not generally looked upon fondly in the South.

How do they react to people whose political viewpoints are very opposite of theirs?

Queenie can act very politely indeed toward just about anyone; however, more often than not, she believes that her political opinions are correct and that anyone who feels otherwise simply isn’t as refined and intelligent as she is.

How much interest in environmental health do they have?

A good deal of interest! The natural world is very important to Queenie.

In reality-based or applicable worlds, do they believe in global warming? Do they recycle?

Queenie both believes in global warming (though she’d never say she does) and recycles. She even has a compost heap on her property.

L. For the Writer/Owner

How have your characters changed since you created them?

Queenie has always been an amoral, dangerous serial murderer, but I found that I made her a little battier than I intended at first when I was roleplaying her. That turned out to be really fun, so now it’s just a part of who she is.

What do you consider the biggest themes in your character, if any?

Death, mental illness, the duality of man, Southern luxury.

Did you create the character to be like yourself, did they end up being like yourself, or are they very different from you?

Queenie is pretty damn different from me, which is part of why she’s so fun to play. I’m not ruthlessly ambitious in the way she is, so it's been very entertaining to step out of my comfort zone.

Would you hang out with your OC if you could?

Maybe if I had an armed guard and a food tester.

How did you come up with your OC?

I actually came up with Queenie as a result of my fascination with Hillary Clinton. To be clear, I voted for HRC in the 2016 elections and I do not think that she’s an insane serial killer, but I do find it really interesting that there’s the public HRC, who is this smiling, grandmotherly figure who is also very professional and politically competent -- and then there’s the HRC who viciously discredited the women that accused her husband of sexual harassment, who was allegedly so unpleasant toward the Secret Service agents tasked with guarding her that only rookies who weren’t familiar with her were willing to take the job, and who is often the subject of off-color jokes about her rumored bisexuality.

I thought it would be interesting to create a character with a similar sort of duality, but taken to a ridiculous extreme. Thus, Queenie “Carolina” McMason, the Ultimate Southern Belle / The Carolina Reaper, Infamous Serial Killer was born.

[ancreativeusername]

The Fricked 5

I'm not sure why I'm writing this here, I have a hunch it'll never see the light of day. However, as I sit in my room (5am) in the midst of spring-time mucus, and seeing red through bloodshot eyes I can't help but sit here and reflect. On these 18 years of life. And 5 big things that have led me to write this.

Pop

My dad always pushed me to try new things. As a black 50-ish year old man from the military, he pretty much pushed me to be the same person he was, he even gave me the same first and middle name! Well before that he pushed for me to be named after some karate master he really liked, but could you picture a small black boy named “Quan Lee” roaming around without getting some snickers. There are other problems with having the masculine father figure my dad is, besides never being able to undo a lid he's touched. He just wants me to man up, but I'm no good at that. I like theatre, I know how to dress myself decently, and there's nothing too masculine about being into other guys. That's for me to know and him to find out I suppose. I tried to tell him once when I was 8 as an April Fools Joke! Well little did he know! It was not received well. So I just never opened up to him, 10 years later and we still live together but I've never known him. He's strong, he serves the ones he loves - and loves the ones he serves. He's my hero, despite his flaws, I just wish he knew me, the boy who's lived in his home for 18 years.

Mama Mia

We all know the nagging housewife trope. Everyone's gotten in a spat with their birth giver, maybe she kept them home when everyone who was anyone was going to Danny’s party tonight. Maybe she accused you of stealing her cheat day cookie she had been looking forward to all week even though you swear it wasn't your sticky, cocoa scented fingers. My mom has those quirks, she's also a little neurotic. Has your mom stolen your Christmas money for cigs? Maybe that's not so uncommon. Has she called her Cancer survivor mother a “sick b*tch.” Maybe she just didn’t have her coffee that morning. Has she ever asked you to go pick her up alcohol from a shady corner store and drive it back? She hasn't? Is it because you're under 21? Me too. Maybe those events are isolated, after all I have nothing to compare it too. I wish our time together wasn’t a series of denies and raised voices. No, mom, I won't buy you cigs. No, mother this is my food money for today, you already have 2 beers in the fridge. Sorry I'm not the cool “down to hang” friend of a son you needed. My mother left me when I was young, her and my grandfather got in a spat, some hands were thrown, some calls were made, police, apprehension, the slammer, you know how that story goes. I don't know what happened to her in there, but I know she won't talk about it. I was around 3, this could've all gone down mid diaper change for all I know. I never really saw her again until 2016, and it's just been a series of misadventures. I'm afraid. How can you know someone for near 2 decades yet sometimes forget their name. Who are these 2 adults living side by side me in my home. I love them dearly, I don't know why.

This Lovely Gal

Think of the girl next door, she's pretty, got a little bit of sass, nice house, good family. Through the course of half a decade you two are inseparable. Then one day you wake up, and she's gone. She hasn't killed herself no, but some days it feels the same because you'll never see her again. But from the beginning, 9th grade year you hit it off, she's a 14 year old girl so naturally there's baggage. Her music taste isn't great, she doesn't always do her homework, she's a little flirty with all the boys (and girls), she doesn't always eat, she's a bit into Cocaine, she's a “survivor”, one of her parent’s is a little crazy and a bit of a drug enthusiast (relatable!) and she likes anime. And with all of those distinct and variable qualities you two just hit it off. Through a kiss in the basement, discovering an island on the sea, taking a trip, and being in sync you suddenly reach an end. Well, what can be said, when Addy says “They were talking shit about you!” There's nowhere to go from there. After all, you found out they were talking shit! How could you possibly fix that? It would be like trying to put a bandaid on a bullet wound. So your bff is gone, as teen as this sounds, it is a bit surreal getting 200 consecutive “good morning streak!” Snapchats and then have them stop one day out of the blue. That's the biggest offense to a millennial in my opinion. Nonetheless I hope she's happy.

Byron

Boys are dumb, Byron was really dumb. Everyone has been offended by a naive guy but G was special. The first guy I can genuinely say I loved. Think about the most romantic experiences you have been on, or would like to go on with your significant other. I bet nothing could top ours. Like how one day we got stuck in a descending elevator in an abandoned garage and he wouldn't hit the open button, because for a second he thought he was gonna get to meet Jesus, and I guess that was pretty compelling! It's always the Christian ones you gotta keep your guard up around. Or, when you told him you liked him for the first time, after months of waiting and a bit of liquid courage, and his response was to give you a “Being Straight Tutorial Book”, wait, why did he have that? Things got jaded but after some time you were back on track, you even go to a party together, you talk a bit, mingle, share some laughs then you get a bit nervous. Before you know it, he's on the sidewalk sobbing and convulsing in front of some cops and an ambulance. I know what you're thinking “What did he take??” Nothing, this was just something that happened sometimes! Byron was an interesting guy, very religious and I think it got the better of him sometimes. Some time has passed and we're okay now, we probably won't go out for coffee any time soon but we can see each other and not spit. I just feel as if this is a good reflection on my love life history.

Some Various Substances

The Church isn't so kin on drugs. I know, it's pretty shocking. It's a bit taxing waking up Sunday morning after staying out Saturday night and having to interact. People asking why your eyes are so red, but you just haven't slept. When you accidentally hit “send” and suddenly pastor Joe gets to see what flavor of Mike’s Hard you favor. It's okay though you're the designated driver. “You can't be faithful to two masters. You'll love one and hate the other.” That's something I learned. It's hard to seek God and seek thrills, because one tends to lead to stability, and nothing in my life is stable. When it comes time to pick the one you follow, you'll make excuses, try to compromise, but you won't seek advice nor assistance. I suppose the decision for me was a little easier, when you're on a tab and someone says “What would Jesus think?” Well, what would he think. That's all I could think about for the next 6 or 7 hours. And sometimes it's better to play on the safe side.

I'm not sad. I’m not depressed. Although this was just the tip of the iceberg, maybe one day I'll go into detail, for now, I don't even know why I wrote this, it’s a bit cringey and also out of character. I'm not sure anyone will even see it. But in writing this I've learned something, although there's so many day to day unfortunate events, I also have tales on the other side of the spectrum. Scaling the waterfall, spending the day at the lake, going to the abandoned hospital. I began writing this because these are 5 pieces of my life, out of so many more that I'll have with me forever, and sometimes I can't bare feeling the way I do. Yet, if I hadn't experienced all that suffering, I wouldn't have experienced some of the most beautiful experiences a person could have. I can make a life for myself outside of today, I don't know that I'll ever continue this short story, but hopefully one day I'll be able to reread what I've written here today, and be relieved that I'm not there anymore.

[itsfinancethings]

October 26, 2019 at 07:00AM

On September 30, 1970, a reporter asked Janis Joplin to explain her fearless sexuality. “It seems to bother a lot of women’s lib people that you’re kind of so upfront sexually,” Village Voice writer Howard Smith told her. Joplin, by then accustomed to such criticism, responded: “I’m representing everything they said they want.… It’s sort of like: you are what you settle for.… You’re only as much as you settle for. If you don’t settle for that and you keep fighting it, you know, you’ll end up anything you want to be… I’m just doing what I wanted to and what feels right and not settling for bullshit and it worked. How can they be mad at that?”

Janis made it sound as if fighting the urge to settle was the most natural thing to her. But deep down inside there had always been the yearning for doing exactly that: getting the house, the white picket fence and the husband. They had been the middle-class hopes of her mother, Dorothy, who herself had fought hard for a life of stability in 1950s Port Arthur, Texas. Janis, her mother’s daughter, was often tormented about leaving that white picket fence behind. “I keep pushing so hard the dream/I keep tryin’ to make it right/Through another lonely day,” she sang in “Kozmic Blues.”

She was born a misfit—a tomboy, a painter, a girl who didn’t accept arbitrary boundaries, a girl with a big voice—but she never stopped wanting to belong. That’s why, years later at the age of 25, it had been so daring of her to leave behind the band that had launched her, Big Brother and the Holding Company. She had joined the group in San Francisco in June 1966 and two months later they were bunking communally in Marin County. Despite technical shortcomings as musicians, they were a dynamic live band with a solid following, and they correctly saw in Janis the element that would elevate them to status similar to their Haight-Ashbury scene-mates Jefferson Airplane and the Grateful Dead. Sure enough, Big Brother and the Holding Company broke big in June 1967 at the Monterey Pop Festival, signing with Dylan’s manager Albert Grossman, who secured a lucrative deal for them with Columbia Records.

But Joplin was beginning to feel again that part of her that would not settle. Her ambition ratcheted up. She looked more to her heroes Nina Simone and Etta James. Rather than shriek over Big Brother’s blaring psychedelic “freak rock,” Joplin longed to work her voice with more nuance, and explore soul and other musical genres; she envisioned keyboards, a horn section, more sophisticated tunes. In remarkable letters she wrote her parents, she explained, “I have to find the best musicians in the world & get together & work. There’ll be a whole lot of pressure because of the ‘vibes’ created by my leaving Big Brother & also by just how big I am now. So we’ve got to be just super when we start playing—but we will be.” To New York Times reporter Michael Lydon, she admitted: “I’m scared. I think, ‘It’s so close. Can I make it?’ If I fail, I’ll fail in front of the whole world. If I miss, I’ll never have a second chance on nothing. But I gotta risk it. I never hold back…” Anyone who really knew her would not have been surprised by her leap of faith. As a roughhousing tomboy in Port Arthur, she’d exhibited a fierce will not unlike that of her father, Seth, who led a double life as a Texaco engineer by day, and a cerebral bookworm and atheist by night. He and Dorothy adored their daughter, but their showdowns were legend—Janis refusing to do what she was told, damn the consequences. With adolescence came compulsive risk-taking; she was the female “mascot” among a group of outlier intellectual boys, a role that helped set a bold Joplin in motion.

Unlike her father, Joplin would not hide her defiance. She vocally opposed segregation in her high school, which made her a target of bullies and racists. She sought out the hard-to-find music of Lead Belly and Bessie Smith, sneaking out to juke joints with boys, and was accused of sleeping with her male companions. At 17, after a midnight ramble in New Orleans, she crashed her father’s car. She would soothe the shame with alcohol, the first drug on which she became dependent. And then she’d do it all again.

Joplin found temporary solace in traveling, which she’d been introduced to by Kerouac’s On the Road, a game-changer for her. Her first taste of freedom came at 19, when she briefly lived like a beatnik in Venice Beach, California, then hitchhiked alone to San Francisco, before hightailing it back to Texas. She soon cultivated an ardent following of fellow college students in Austin, who clamored to hear her sing blues, country, and folk with her first group, the Waller Creek Boys.

Forever restless, Joplin hitchhiked for the second time to San Francisco the day after her 20th birthday in 1963. Already writing songs and accompanying herself on an autoharp, she floored audiences in the Bay Area, gaining confidence and vocal skill, gig by gig. But after spending the summer of ’64 in New York’s Lower East Side, where she learned to play 12-string guitar, Joplin became addicted to methamphetamines. She returned to Port Arthur yet again, sobered up at the Joplin homestead, and attempted to renounce her life as an artist. But she could not resist opportunities to perform in Houston and Austin clubs, where her voice manifested ever more powerfully, an uncorked siren calling her away from the life of dutiful commuter student and sociology major at Beaumont’s Lamar Tech. At age 23, after sharing a bill in Austin with the 13th Floor Elevators, she split town for Haight-Ashbury yet again. When she wrote her parents to give them her whereabouts, she promised to stay clean.

In just over a year, she achieved much of what she thought she wanted, but chafed at the constraints of Big Brother. As she turned to heroin to soften anxiety and fears of rejection, her urge to rebel—even within the parameters of the counterculture—could not be reined in. “I’ve been doing it for 26 years,” she told the New York Times in 1969, conflating her age and her lifelong iconoclasm, “and all the people who were trying to compromise me are now coming to me, man. You better not compromise yourself, it’s all you got.… I’m a goddamn living example of that…. People aren’t supposed to be like me, sing like me, make out like me, drink like me, live like me, but now they’re paying me $50,000 a year for me to be like me. That’s what I hope I mean to those kids out there… that they can be themselves and win. You just have to start thinking that way, being that righteous with yourself, and you’ve won already.”

Joplin’s great champion Ellen Willis, a rare female rock critic of the era, worried for post-Big Brother Janis in the pages of The New Yorker. “Did Big Brother perhaps give her more than we realized?” she wrote. As often happens with performers, Joplin had to learn in public, so the initial answer to this question was a resounding maybe. Only three months after assembling her back-up players, Joplin was still finding her way, which showed in her two-night stand at New York’s Fillmore East. Joplin didn’t fall back on her usual over-the-top performance techniques, but modulated herself, doing the “kind of things that milk you rather than hammer you,” she said. Willis was one of the few critics who seemed to get it.

Rolling Stone’s Paul Nelson resolutely panned the shows, describing Joplin as “The Judy Garland of Rock” who “strangled the songs to death.” Six weeks later, when she performed back in San Francisco at Bill Graham’s Winterland, her “people” did not call for an encore—a first on her own turf. Afterwards in the dressing room, journalist John Bowers noted, “She is pale, as if in shock, saying, ‘San Francisco’s changed, man. Where are my people? They used to be so wild. I know I sang well! I know I did!’” One of her earliest fans, esteemed jazz critic Ralph J. Gleason, advised her in his San Francisco Chronicle column to “scrap this band and go right back to being a member of Big Brother if they’ll have her.”

Hurt but undaunted, Joplin continued to pursue her musical vision. She recorded her debut solo album, I Got Dem Ol’ Kozmic Blues Again Mama!, its title alluding to a persistent existential dread her father had called “the Saturday night swindle.” She’d written new songs including “One Good Man,” a Bessie Smith blues update. Other material ranged from her adaptation of the Chantels’ “Maybe,” a favorite from her teen years, and Rodgers and Hart’s “Little Girl Blue,” inspired by the 1959 Nina Simone recording of the song. (Simone would later applaud Joplin’s version.)

The album debuted on Billboard on October 11, 1969, remained there for 28 weeks and gradually moved up to #5. Joplin’s aching original “Kozmic Blues” just missed the Top 40, hitting #41. Reviews were lukewarm, with Joplin, again, being taken to task—by male critics—for being “bent on becoming Aretha Franklin” and dumping Big Brother. An exception was an insightful Village Voice piece by Johanna Schier (later Johanna Hall, coauthor of the Pearl track, “Half Moon”), who wrote that Joplin “was singing stronger and better… The top of her range is more solid and her vocal control is maturing… She breaks through into greatness by anyone’s standards.” Backed by her Kozmic Blues Band, she would play the biggest venues of her career to date, including a sold-out concert on December 19 at Madison Square Garden.

Bettmann ArchiveJanis Joplin and her final group, the Full Tilt Boogie Band, perform at the Festival for Peace at Shea Stadium in August 1970.

The first year of her brief solo flight, Joplin headlined Woodstock, performing an hour-long set in the middle of the night, singing until her voice gave out. She made her debut on The Ed Sullivan Show and The Dick Cavett Show, appeared on the cover of Newsweek (the cover line: “The Rebirth of the Blues”), and toured Europe for the first time, a series of concerts garnering rapturous responses. At London’s Royal Albert Hall, she’d even managed to roust a sold-out, normally staid audience from their seats.

Joplin remained peripatetic, musically speaking, and driven. She’d learned to play and sing Kris Kristofferson’s “Me and Bobby McGee,” and the song opened new doors. Joplin sought a smaller, rootsier-sounding unit to bring it, and other material, to life. She would christen this group Full Tilt Boogie. With them, she would mature as a bandleader and co-producer of her recorded output, all gloriously evident on her final album, Pearl, and in footage of Joplin and Full Tilt Boogie’s live performances. Following her death during the Pearl sessions, on October 4, 1970, “Me and Bobby McGee” topped the charts for two weeks, and Pearl became the most commercially successful album of her career. Despite her kozmic blues and the critics’ initial discouragement, Joplin, of course, had refused to settle for anything less than traveling the road her music took her.

[lunatichronicles-blog]

“On Kavanaugh....”

Reflections.....

I would guesstimate at least 75% of the women growing up in the suburbs of Washington, D.C. In the 60's-80's knew a “Brett Kavanaugh” or two...or a whole lot more. Attending H.S. In Northern Va in the late 60's-early 70's, the “extra-curricular” leisure activities of the day for the typical h.s. student often revolved around games, cruising, walk-outs, sit-ins, protests, passionate causes, partying, heading in to Georgetown/D.C., going to Ocean City, & Rehobeth Beach and yes...drinking and smoking pot....sometimes maybe something a little more, like “Mother's little helpers”! We were “experimenting”, breaking out of our Beaver Cleaver upbringings with June and Ward, caught between “good-girls, our peers, and “sex, drugs, rock n roll”, in an uproarious time period politically and socially. We wanted to be very “anti-establishment”, and “free”, and “Make Love not War”, but we always had the right to say NO, and expect a decent boy to respect that even if we might have been having too “free” of a time! After all, most of the boys I knew were raised in “middle, upper-middle, and upper-class” homes by Veterans of WWII and the Korean War, while also going into and out of Vietnam. There wasn't a whole lot of “diversity” in those areas back then, and there were also those “privileged-preppy” kids that went to the various surrounding schools and had their Country Clubs and their cock-tailing folks, many of which knew nothing about what was going on with their kids under their own damn roofs, because they were too self absorbed or stressed or adulting themselves....but were there little Bretts? Hell yes, always have been! Let's see...Mama was a judge, Daddy was a “God”, and little Brett was an only child, a spoiled, well groomed little wuss always expected to excel and be athletic like his Dad?...Momma probably got him out of various DUI's over the years with her judgeship and knowing lots of other “elites” of the day in the same various social circles of the Country Clubs, tennis courts, pools, parties, and bars of the day...the climate was lush for lush's and letches!! Full court press, Masher, Chester, Sex Offender. Privileged, Entitled, Empowered, Enthused, Emboldened, and put on a pedestal...they were sure to fall..... eventually. Karma's a bitch.

    I still have a calendar from my Sr. year of h.s.! Why did I keep it? It got tucked away with some other memorabilia, along with a  little notebook diary I kept BRIEFLY, since it was discovered and read by my Mother...but I digress, in any case, I kept these things for sentimental reasons. Everybody had “fun, fun, fun til their Daddy took the t-bird away....” seems we didn't mind drinking and driving back in the day, and there were more than a few occasions when (regrettably) I was a bit “foggy” on the drive home with a friend, or group of friends; or even who's house, or party we were even at...all we might have known or needed to know was the suggestion of someone having a party and “so n so” was gonna be there, so we went. There were always all kinds of things going on in the rooms of the houses and you really were so focused on yourself that you couldn't possibly know the full extent of everything going on and all the various activities being “engaged in”. Sometimes there were parents, sometimes, Not. I was a “good girl” sexually thru h.s. Were there times I may have “teased” or “lead someone on”? Yes. BUT. As long as I could put the brakes on, it was okay. I may not have “remembered” every “boy kissed”, or date with whom, HOWEVER... The Pervs and the Chesters and the took-it-too-far's I've never forgotten. I suspect most women don't since something was STOLEN, and taken UNWILLINGY (unless, heart-breakingly..they may have been roof-ied, or the experience was repressed). I was very fortunate on two occasions that there were “real men” (boys/buddies, friend's, classmates) that were there to “help” with the unwelcome advances and nip it in the bud, or punish the “behavior”. There were however, a couple occasions when no one was around to defend me, but me. While I was able to extricate myself from rape, there were things that happened that were unwelcome and guilt- ridden and shameful horrible memories that make you feel dirty and like trash, and like it was your fault. I've never shared those with anyone. Not even my husband of 35 years. It was “embarrassing”, and spoke to MY character. I have a friend who was  molested by her Dad who she always “stood by” out of guilt, shame, and protection of a younger sibling. It has affected her entire life. A relative was taken advantage of  by an older male relative. A majority of friends I've ever had in the “service industry”, or secretarial world were regularly rebuffing unwelcome advances, touches...from client/customers, and superiors, or persons you “answered to” Thinking back on it now, all these “men”, or “boys” were more “powerful” in some way....whether in authority, position, age, strength, or “station in/of life”. The kinds of kids or men than can “ruin a reputation”, and not have another thought about it on their rise to power and empowerment. Whether young and in a “clicque”, or in a “boys will be boys”, or “good-ol-boys network”! Fortunately there were a whole lot more “Father Know's Best”, and boys of character back then, that held themselves to a decent set of standards. “Good guys”(not mafioso!), who may have “tried” to cross the line “a little”; but knew when “enough was enough”, and when they were “pushing their luck”, and gonna get their “hand slapped”! They were the majority. At least that was my experience. Good decent guys, good decent girls trying our best to “feel our way thru” and navigate the quickly changing “groovy” time waves of past and present. But again, there WERE the “Brett's, the Bill's, Harvey's, Charlie's, Les'. Enter Me2, Karma, and “Revolution” (again. It's all a process isn't it? Growth generally comes with changes – good and bad).  Sometimes things come around to bite you in the ass. Sometimes they're undeserved, sometimes not. “We're mad as hell and we're not gonna take it any more”. These experiences are painful. We like to tuck them away and leave them in the past. Sometimes your past has a way of “presenting”. IF you share, you face the inevitable “she was asking for it”, and the victim is put in a defensive posture b/c girls and women are “meant to be demure”, and you were some kind of a liberal bitch,or trying to “SMEAR” a man if you did. WHY? The more we hear and learn and share, the healthier we are becoming as women. The more we are breaking out of the traditional roles set forward on us by men of power and our great grandmas (or our own Mom's and sisters, many of whom are living with their own UNshared UNwelcome UNhealthy experiences, and are UNable to clean their slate an ease their pain and mind because of their sense of self preservation) the stronger more respected we will be, and equality I guess, we will have to and are beginning to “demand”.  If that makes us a “Bitch” to anyone, then THEY have the problem. A real man welcomes total inclusion and equality and is nt threatened. Denying an inappropriate sexual encounter occurred, doesn't make it better and your ability to move on is ultimately inhibited from your own inhibition.

Ambition and the lack of moral character along with being groomed, led, and promised by being a “good boy”, and doing what was “expected of you” I imagine would be it's own Hell. But for some, the path they chose. Now pay the piper, and this time you don't pass go. Wake up the old men. Shake them to their core of safe and warm. I want more RBG's, more Sondra Sodamier, Meghan McCains, Feinsteins, and Ferrara's, “Dr. Patriots”, and my friends...at least we as women can stand in solidarity for our own sex. WHY would we not believe someone elses's truth when we KNOW we've all had Unwelcome Encounters of the Non-Extraterrestrial kind!! About the Supreme Court Nominee - Shouldn't we actively attempt to (I'll go out on a limb here) hire some more diverse humans on the highest most respected court in our USA? Like perhaps another Woman?! Agenda-less, Un-biased, Even handed, Fair, Respected, Independent, Patriot, someone with a “calling” that earns our respect for upholding and translating, and changing if necessary, the laws of our nation to make them fair and truly just for ALL in our ever-changing ever shifting, ever-learning, ever growing nation. A nation that can be under the rule of inclusion, acceptance, and an inability to accept this wanton, ugly self-centered, lawlessness of humanity.  W-O-W-U “Wake UP WOMEN Unite” !!!The end...for tonite...BSE 9/28/18

[cholarevolution-blog]

Our bad-ass woman’s story is rated R this week!

So, when I was told I was a badass, I agreed, but there’s always that lurking part of me that doesn’t want to admit it, or take credit.

 Krystal asked me to share my story, and SO I’m going to try to do just that!

 What makes me badass?

 I think there’s a lot of different aspects that make me a badass woman.

 But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’m going to try to be succinct and not ruminate too much on story…

 I grew up in Anchorage, AK. My parents are still married today (43 years this year <3) and I have two younger brothers. I was always the “fifth wheel” literally. I never really fit in at school. I was always the weird high energy girl, even tho I thought I was shy (hahaha)

 My family has lived on the same cul de sac since before I was born.

 So, here’s the highlights….

 I was a good kid, mostly. Minus the occasional sneaking out of the house to hang out with the neighbor kids lol

Until I graduated in 1999 with a 3.28 GPA.

Then I started partying a little harder.

Smoked a little weed.

Got blackout drunk. A lot.

Did LOTS of acid.

Tried some coke.

Started stripping at the good ol’ Fantasies on 5th. Spent my 19th birthday in the club. (I still have a polaroid to prove it, lol)

Quit after 2 months (and after making over $10k)

I couldn’t hack it. Not my style. I didn’t feel I belonged. I was no hustler.

Picked up a cocaine habit. Kinda bad. But not too bad. Yet.

I enrolled in the Diesel engines & Heavy Equipment Repair program at AVTEC in Seward AK.

Got a DUI. 1st offense in AK is 72 hours mandatory jail time.

Turned 21.

Spent my Christmas break from Diesel school in jail after being convicted for the DUI officially.

I tore down, rebuilt and successfully started & ran a Detroit 671 in-line 6 cylinder Marine application Diesel engine from the ground up. Among many other awesome accomplishments in diesel school. Including performing LOF’s and other maintenance on heavy equipment. Precision performance is kind of my thing.

Graduated as a Diesel mechanic in 2003.

Started working for the local Freightliner dealership in Anchorage.

Kept partying.

Met a guy. He was a red head too. We started dating.

Toxic relationship but I loved him.

He died from a snow machining accident in April 2004.

Then I met another guy in Sept 2004. We hit it off. Fast.

By November I was 8 weeks pregnant.

I wanted to be a mom since age 13.

But it wasn’t meant to be.

Against my own will, in Dec 2004, I terminated the pregnancy.

It was one of the most horrible experiences I’ve ever had.

(Side note: I’ve since done a ton of work on that trauma, but it was a painful heart-wrenching experience.)

Then my addiction really took a turn for the worst.

I started doing cocaine all the time. Then I started smoking crack.

I continued to party & work (I did Accounts Payable for several construction companies all during my teen years through my 20’s and into my 30’s)

In 2007 I finally realized that I had a problem. 
I went to detox for a week, got out, got distracted by a boy, and found myself back in the bar and back at the crack houses.

So I decided to jump ship. 
I moved to WA in Oct 2007. I figured if I didn’t know where the dope houses were, I’d be able to get sober….

It didn’t exactly work that way, but it turned out alright.

I moved to the Seattle area. Stayed with friends for a few months.

Drank heavily, but it was OK because I wasn’t smoking crack. So I thought it was better.

This went on for a few months. 
Then, I did the unthinkable. I asked a total stranger where I could find “uppers” and boy, I knew how to pick em! Cuz of course he knew where to go!

I started getting high again.

Running the streets. Sucking dick for crack. Yeah, that bad.

No, I’m not proud of it, but I’m not ashamed. It’s part of my story.

It went on for a couple months. I lost 40 pounds in less than 2 months on the “stem-fast” diet…
Then I got busted at work. They sent me to treatment through the Employee Assistance Program.

I went to treatment in April 2008.

I’ve been sober ever since.

I got a sponsor, worked the steps, and then worked them again and again and again and again. I’ve taken many women through the steps, all of the women that made it through all 12 steps are still sober today.

This year in April I’ll be celebrating 10 years of sobriety, free from ALL mind altering substances (except coffee. duh.) lol

I quit smoking cigs on my 1 year sober birthday.

I was hit by a car in 2009 while walking. 
I was walking my dogs. My mini dachshund Ginger didn’t survive the accident. The car ran over her clean down the middle. I watched as the life left her body in the street where we were struck.

But I didn’t get high.

I had my identity stolen - by someone I knew. 
She raked my name and my social security number over the coals. It was bad.

The detective that worked the case said he’d been doing this for over 15 years, and he’d never seen any ID Theft case this nasty.

But I didn’t get high.

I cleaned it up. I fixed my credit. And I went to court and testified because I thought it was important that I carried the message that she didn’t have to keep living that way. Drugs were involved. And stealing money from innocent people? There was a different way to live. I was living walking breathing proof.

Then I met my husband. Through a PAID matchmaking service! (It was rather expensive too, but worth every penny lol)

We met in Dec of 2014, got married in Oct 2016 - and then I left corporate America in Dec 2016.

I got certified as a yoga teacher in Aug of 2016, and graduated as an integrative nutrition health coach not long after. I started my biz journey teaching yoga and nutrition coaching.

I spent all of 2017 building my coaching business. Training, learning & traveling. I went to Maui 3 times, Paris, flew through Iceland & Germany, went to Phoenix, Asheville, Dallas, Alaska, LA, Milwaukee, Rhode Island and probably more places that I don’t remember. 
I invested in high level mentorship to grow my business. Now, I run a thriving and profitable coaching practice helping women coaches and entrepreneurs from all over bust through their visibility blocks, quit hiding, and make a big impact and income with their gifts.

 I truly owe everything to God, my spirituality, and all the amazing supporters I have in my life from my husband to my family to my friends and all my entrepreneurial pals!!! 
I love my job. I love my clients, and I love my life.

 I am one blessed badass mama.