every other poster on the tube right now is advertising a new musical called ‘the time traveller’s wife’. for a blissful moment i forgot that a ‘wife’ is something that a heterosexual woman can be, and, believing it to be a beautiful lesbian tale akin to tihylttw, decided to google the synopsis to see if it was worth checking out. big mistake. ‘man first encounters his future spouse as a young girl, returns to kiss her at 18 and marry her in the future, remaining the same age as barely any time passes for him meanwhile she spends years alone pining for her distant angel’ blinks. what does that remind me of. oh yeah apparently this came before. i’m already suffering through series 5 at the current moment, so, plenty enough of that for years to come, thank you, and— what a surprise— the novel the musical’s based on was a primary inspiration for you-know-who’s weird fixation on this particular plotline. the worst part about the time traveller’s wife is that there aren’t even any cool steampunk clockwork droids or gorgeous 18th century french dresses to make up for the vomit-inducing implications. i have never been more disappointed. mind wipe, now
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I was lumped in with the goths during my school years*, and for sure I was horrifically depressed when I wasn't psychotically manic and had common interests like graveyards and depressing poetry and gory imagery and other morbid fascinations, but whenever I did hang out with the Goths (we weren't super super tight like BFFs or something but we got along when we hanged) I was a ridiculous contrast in fashion lol.
Standing in with a group of teenagers who for whatever quirk were all taller than me despite being around the same ages, who were wearing all black or the occasional blood red, in various states of the entirely casual-suitable for the opera fashion spectrum of fashion, often with multiple piercings and eyeliner at the very least,
was this barefaced and metal-less scrawny and smol being in a bright yellow graphic t with some stupid slogan of a meme that was outdated even by then, or a tie-dyed shirt with the Joe's Crabshack logo on it, and incredible baggy jeans that were held up by variously colored scarves because my body shape even while rail thin was awkward with regular belts and my pants would still slide down unless I tight laced a chiffon scarf as uncomfortably tight as I could around my waist, sludge gray Velcro shoes because my inconsistent growth spurts meant I had awkwardly sized feet and for whatever reason the only suitable shoes I could find in my size at the time were Velcro, occasionally a faux gold vaguely intricate Walmart bracelet around my upper arm because it made me feel Ancient Grecian, and the peace day resist ants was, because I was also in a M*A*S*H phase since I was completely fixated on the equally bipolar and similarly undiagnosed Hawkeye, I went to the army surplus store and bought an olive green boonie hat that might have come from the Korean war era but might have been from 'nam I don't remember and I was constantly wearing that everywhere.
Anyway there's no real point to this and I regret to inform you that I never took a photo when hanging out with the goths and it's not like smartphones were mainstream enough that any of us could afford one yet, but I'm just picturing this group hangout from the outside and how it must have looked lol
*(for all that meant in the high school era, cliques weren't really a thing by then and if you had friends you prolly had multiple groups of friends based on whatever specific common interest or just what class/lunch you were in, we were all impoverished as fuck so like. Elitism was never really a thing with some notable exceptions *cough*ableism*cough*)
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Went to nonbinary support group earlier this evening. A fun and silly question was asked, “What’s your non-traditional gender?”. The person asking described their gender as some cigarette butts floating in a gross puddle, another person describing themself as a cigarette butt with lipstick stains on it, my love described themself as a bunny rabbit, and when it came around for me to answer I said I’m a dirty hippy. The person asking then spent ten minutes going off on me about how #problematic hippy culture is, ignoring multiple bids from me to say yeah there are things wrong with it I know full well but they did not relent, eventually remarking that punks look mean but are actually nice and hippies look nice but are actually mean and telling me my gender is pretty much folk punk anyway?? My love stopped the convo by asking the others in the group who didn’t get a chance to answer to do so but the vibe was not great after. This is such a strange and petty encounter but something about it still rubbed me the wrong way in such a way that continues to linger in my mind. What the fuck?
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Hanging out (ha!) with Maedhros today!
(This is "Maedhros" ⬇️ XD We're shooting in public so figured that an almost completely naked, bloodied elf would probably not be welcome on property lmao; especially since we're going the forgiveness rather than permission route.)
And Eonwe, as my sister graciously agreed to throw on a robe, lend her limbs waist-down to the cause, and step on me. She doesn't cosplay but she's such a good sport ♡
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gray can i just say i fuckin love how you've become my shining light on vintage content on my dash like youre feeding my gothic spirit
happy to provide 💖 it’s all because i love old men, please feel free to peruse the vintage-emblazoned tags of mine such as “peter cushing” filled with photos of 50s-70s movie star peter cushing, or perhaps you might try my “vincent price” tag filled with photos of the goth queen himself, or might you try my oc tag “roman tag” filled with insane woman moments and frequent photos of the aforementioned peter cushing, or perhaps you might like to see my “kirin tag” filled with photos of frogs and occasional vintage aesthetic paired with bloodthirsty homosexual hysteria, also often found in the previously mentioned tag as well as my “farric tag” tag, or maybe you might like—
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