#i'm not writing about it bc i'm actively feeing that way.

[unityrain24]

im never going to be able to live the life that i want

[because-its-eurovision]

[kicks down your door] I HEARD YOUR ANXIETY WAS TALKIN SHIT AND IM HERE TO THROW HANDS WITH IT

okay first off, I know how you feel, and you know that I know cus you've seen me have anxiety episodes with these similar feelings of not being good enough or being unimportant or unwanted during out shared time in BC fandom. so I would like to start just by squeezing your hand and reminding you that you're not alone or the only one to occasionally feel this way, your feelings are valid and you're allowed to feel them, even tho they're not based on anything rational and you don't deserve to feel like that, because you are important and valued by the people around you.

you don't owe a participation fee to be part of a fandom. not in money, not by dedicating a certain number of hours, not by creating a specific amount of content, not by reaching some threshold of followers to be considered popular enough to participate. if you like the thing, you qualify. that's all there is. also, fandom is not a limited space with a numbered seats where one person's involvement is somehow taking room from anybody else. fandom is a universe that expands infinitely as more and more people join. it's impossible to take up space that you wouldn't deserve, because there is always more room for everybody to join.

furthermore, I may not be in the Käärijä fandom but I've been lucky to share fandom(s) with you in the past, and I've seen the way you contribute. you have always been one of the nicest, most welcoming, supportive people around, you're so willing to answer everyone's questions and welcome them into your space, and I don't think you even realize how important it is to have people like that in fandoms. the love and kindness and encouragement you show to others has not gone unnoticed, and that is also a way of contributing, and something I've seen you do so much for as long as I've known you. I mean, where in the hell else am I supposed to throw my dumb ESC questions at? people are scary, so I need someone nice and easy to approach. I need you. so your claim about how you don't do your part is, with all due love and respect, complete bullshit anyway <3 you do more than enough, you just don't see it yourself.

last but not least, Käärijä gigs may be queer safe spaces, but they're not queer exclusive. in fact, very few, if any, queer spaces in the world are ever exclusive - even pride parades, drag shows or gay bars aren't, straight cis people who have the basic decency and respect towards the culture are welcomed to those too. so for a music show by an artist that, afaik, isn't even openly queer himself? you're absolutely 100% allowed to go and enjoy your time. it is your space just as much as everyone else's.

you're a fucking gift and the Käärijä fandom is fucking blessed to have you. I'm aggressively kissing your forehead and I hope you can make it and have fun at the cruise. you deserve it. 🖤

Coming from you, this means so much 🥺 and you just reached out to be nice and give encouraging words?? 😭🖤 You're the person I looked up to the most when BCtumblr was in its most active phase, and still do, because you always have your way with words and take time to be wise and insightful and kind to everyone passing by despite battling your own anxiety demons, and I know you have it so much worse than I do which again makes me feel guilty for complaining and extremely grateful for you being so supportive.

I'm just so tired of feeling ashamed of myself and like I'm never good enough, and the constant voice in my head telling that I should be funnier and nicer and braver and prettier and more outgoing and spontaneous, and you telling me that I'm kind and friendly is so nice but strange because I do not see that side in myself at all, and I maybe feel like being welcoming or answering asks isn't tangible enough?? Like you know as opposed to producing content, because I can't draw or write fics or make tiktok edits or memes or be the first to post or comment something, and while I do know it's not demanded and nobody gives a rat's ass about what I do or don't do or post, I kind of feel responsible to pay back to the fandom(s) that have given me so much. I believe that the feeling of never doing or being enough or the pressure of being constantly present isn't a fandom-specific problem but a part of everyday life now, for me at least, but in fandom spaces, bubbles, it is somehow more concentrated.

I'm also feeling constantly guilty about being white and cis and straight and healthy because there are so many around me that are not and a having hard times because of that, and I try to do my best for making the world a better place and be a good ally and a decent person, but I'm just one guy and I'm exhausted, and even right now there are multiple anon asks in my box calling me out and saying I'm disgusting because I'm not saying what they want to hear and posting the kind of content they'd like to see from me, and. it's just too much. i'm so tired of being alive sometimes.

Thank you for being in my life, Abby. Ily 🖤

[somelazyassartist]

Considering making the move to just stop using Etsy altogether and just make my own website to sell things, but I'm not sure it's a very good idea with how small my shop is...... Vent under cut bc I'm just kinda stressed out about the general state of things in life rn but the shop thing is just stressing me out the most in this specific current moment.

So like, Etsy's really nice for organization and management, and you get a way larger audience because people can find you through searches, and they don't take fees away from you until you've made a sale which is all good for me as a small creator, but. I am sooooooo sick of the stupid content policies that ban a good chunk of my queer art as NSFW when it's not (and you know what? Maybe I wanna make outright NSFW art too!! I'm ace but drawing bodies and characters interacting like that and stuff is just fun for me!! I think it's neat and interesting to express artistically and also I think being horny is fine and cool!! But every fuckin place I could've made a living off that is banning it and my SFW queer stuff too and I'm just so sick of it).

I just want to finally make my own place where I can sell my normal art AND my horny fagdyke weirdo art, instead of "oh you can find my merch on this site but my art on this site and my writing on this site and my NSFW on this site blah blah blah" I'm SICK OF IT I just want one place I don't have to fucking redirect everybody to a million places because their content policies are all over the fucking place!!!!! The only thing is that I'm broke as shit because I'm disabled and this is my only way to work currently, and the place I was looking at making a website on (bc I know an artist I like a lot sells NSFW stuff through there) costs like $15 a month, which is a lot to me!!!

I'm trying to get a fuck ton of old inventory out of my house because I can't afford to get much new stuff for my shop without those funds, but my shop generally only gets traffic when I add new items to said shop, so when I get to that point where I can't afford to get new shit all my activity just plummets completely, and if I can barely keep up with purchasing new inventory how am I gonna purchase new inventory AND pay $15 a month just to run the damn site???? Plus I just have other things I need to spend money on like medical supplies and funds to help my gf move and my monthly credit card payments and it's just like!!! I am not that bad off currently and I am fine and I am not in debt and I can mostly handle it but it is stressful is all!!!!

I kinda wanna just like. Do a massive fucking "leaving Etsy" sale and slash all the prices down WAY lower than usual to try to get some of the old stuff out and save up money to put up my own new site with new merch and hopefully redirect traffic there afterwards, but also I know logically that's a horribly impulsive move to make and would probably land me in a worse spot than ever without the proper planning to do something like that. But oh my god it's tempting right now.

[ms-demeanor]

Since you're on the anti-vax debunking train, have you looking into "Dr." Pam Popper at all? I'm trying to do research on her bc her rhetoric has totally twisted the perceptions of someone I love, but I'm not finding much. I can't even tell if she's an actual doctor or not, just that she calls herself one.

JUST FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES I’m going to show y’all the basic way I do fact checking on things like this

Step One: who is this person and what are their claims

This is Pam Popper, she is claiming to be a naturopath and a doctor. This interview claims that she is a PhD and an ND.

Step Two: Investigating those claims

ND, or Naturopathic Doctor, is not a protected term the same way that MD is a protected term in most places.

By searching “Requirements for Naturopathic doctors in Ohio” I found that the state of Ohio, where Pam Popper practices, does not license naturopaths.

There is a voluntary professional organization of naturopaths in Ohio that requires members to have a 4-year degree and to pass state medical exams. It has 38 members listed and Pam Popper is not one of them.

Well, that’s that for Naturopath. So far as her state’s professional organization is concerned, she isn’t one, and the state doesn’t license them.

So what about PhD? You can have a PhD in lots of things, we call Dr. Phil “Doctor” for his PhD in English, it’s a gimme - let’s find out what’s up with Dr. Popper’s PhD.

It’s surprisingly hard to find out what’s up with her from the expected sources. Most people with PhDs won’t shut up about where they got them from (with good reason! Shit’s hard!) and will ABSOLUTELY put the name of the institution that granted their degree in their about page. Hell, most doctors display their diplomas in their offices. It’s totally standard doctor flex.

But everywhere you read about her she REALLY wants you to know that she taught part of an online certification course (you do not have to be a professor, trained educator, or expert of any kind to be hired to teach a certification course) and she was totally in Forks over Knives you guys.

So okay, you search “Pam Popper education” and you get a ton of results that are copy/pastes of her bio from her website, but one is SLIGHTLY different and says that she "[got] a Master’s degree and PhD in nutrition in her late 30’s.” That’s good to know! Very good to know! According to IMDB (and you can trust that, because she REALLY wants you to know she was in Forks over Knives) Popper was born in 1956, which means she’s 65. Okay. So, let’s *generously* assume that late thirties means 40, so she got her degree in 1996. Keep that number in mind.

Duck Duck Go isn’t turning up a TON of what I’m looking for, so I switch over to google and google sucks but it DOES make good suggestions sometimes, because that’s how I find this:

A 2001 article in which Popper is interviewed about the regulations impacting health food stores where she told the journalist where she got her degree.

Okay, so what’s the Clayton College of Natural Health?

Well, first of all, it’s shut down. So that’s a good sign. Still got that number 1996 in your head?

It’s important. It’s important because there’s a pretty significant difference between a correspondence school and online learning. Correspondence schools may have you turn in papers, they may have you take tests, they may have you make a phone call to the professor, but they were not proctored and there was essentially no way to guarantee that the student turning in the course work was the student doing the course work. Which is COMPLETELY aside from the fact that many correspondence schools granted degrees for just returning a completed worksheet.

Okay, so with that in mind, here’s what Clayton College offered for their online classes in 2001:

And here’s what the school’s website looked like in 1997:

And just for further shits and giggles here’s the reading list for the course on pediatric nutrition:

What is the ABSOLUTE LATEST that Dr. Popper could have gotten her degree from this institution if she got it in her late thirties? 1996. Credible, reliable distance education was not really available in the mid nineties. Dr. Popper paid for a diploma from a notorious quack diploma mill that was shut down by the state of Alabama because it couldn’t pass muster for accreditation even in the 2010s. The “school’s” writing lab was a recommendation to buy Strunk & White and a link to the writing labs for two real schools.

And now that I’ve shown THAT here are two sources that the alt-med community will claim are biased against them: A huffpo writeup of why the school shut down and the quackwatch profile of CCNH.

The Wikipedia page on it is pretty succinct:

The Clayton College of Natural Health is a giant piece of shit and it’s no wonder Popper doesn’t want to show you her diploma, she has NONE of the qualifications that you should expect from a doctor.

Step Three: Analysis and Synthesis

I am a skeptical cynic, so this is enough information for me. Popper’s first claim about herself is that she’s a Doctor and a Naturopath. Neither of those things are true, so there’s a pretty decent chance that the rest of the things she claims aren’t true either. She used to discuss going to an unaccredited quack school but has stopped talking about it since the school got shut down, and she’s not part of the professional organization for her profession in her state. She doesn’t have any kind of medical background and is a tremendously unreliable source for medical information.

If I were speaking to someone who is more into alt-med and woo stuff I would point out that Ohio DOES have an organization of practicing naturopaths that Popper is unqualified to join and she received her diploma from a ‘school’ that was actively adversarial to the idea of requiring board certification for naturopaths and that she now runs a very similar bullshit correspondence school.

Look at what great things you can learn in just eight weeks for seven hundred dollars plus registration fees plus application fees plus certification fees:

haha, oh shit dudes, I clicked to view the “application” to Pam Popper’s school and got this:

This is clearly an up-to-date, on-the-level institution. Also it costs a hundred dollars to submit an application and they want you to do it by mail.

Wait, I’m supposed to be analyzing and synthesizing here.

My analysis: Popper is full of shit

What you should take away from this conversation: People who don’t want to tell you where they got their degrees or what their degrees are in are extremely suspicious; people who tell you that they got their degrees at Clayton College of Natural Health don’t have real degrees; most people don’t understand the difference between naturopath (unprotected term in many places that may or may not require passing boards), osteopath (DO; someone who passes boards and is a doctor), MD (someone who passes boards and is a doctor), nutritionist (unprotected term, in many places anyone can claim to be a nutritionist with no qualifications), and dietician (protected term, this person had to get a degree in food) and we as a society don’t do a good job of explaining that.

[polyghostfacehours]

🏹anon here i’m trying to remember if I’ve requested for you or someone else but could we get a fic where reader kills someone for whatever reason and the boys find them and find it really hard and then they have bloody sex w possible knifeplay (but only If you wanna Ofc) bc that’s all I can think about right now 😌

I had a bad-ish day mentally, so this came out darker than expected. I also tried a different style of writing than usual. I'm really sorry that this took so long Bow! This got long because my fee-fees were working overtime. Also made it pre-relationship, because I'm a slut for best friends to lovers as a trope.

TW: NSFW, homicide, dissociation, knifeplay, bloodplay, woundplay

Poly!Ghostface x Reader - Blood on Your Hands

It felt like liquid heat ripping through your veins, the booming sound of blood rushing in your head like a too-loud swarm of cicadas. It gnashed angrily against your forehead, and the longer you stood there staring at what you'd just done, the louder it got.

Multiple stab wounds, bruising in the neck and collarbone area. You can practically see the headlines as they blaze through your mind's vision. You were going to go to jail. He hadn't even done anything to you yet, just gotten a little too words-y with you, thinly-veiled threats spilling drunkenly from him of what he'd do to your parents, your sibling, your relatives.

The worst part of this though? You felt euphoric. Truly free from the constraints of what society told you was an appropriate way to fight back. Was it undue retribution on your part? Perhaps. But damn if it didn't feel like that first kiss in adolescence, one you have after a shitty date at a roller skating rink with the first decently-attractive kid that promised to pay for your cardboard pizza and have you home by 9.

Your best friends, Billy and Stu, had always had your back. And you had always had theirs. Keeping their secret relationship from their girlfriends, when you had walked in on them one night. Covering their tracks for the illicit activities that you knew were wrong but could ignore because out of sight out of mind and hey, there wasn't anyone else you gave two genuine shits about in this town. Even after secretly witnessing what happened at Woodsboro that fateful night, you played ignorance to their schemes. You'd rather die than lose the two people you've ever had a true connection with.

So standing there at the dead of night, in the middle of the woods that harbored a beaten path towards the river you were planning on having a few joints at, you stared down at the drunkard who'd tried to stake claim to your spot. The man who'd aggressively threatened you, thinking you a young pushover, and the man that now lied in rigor mortis below you. The man who forced you into the visceral rage that'd been building up all these years of your miserable existence. And you did the one thing you thought you could never bring yourself to do.

When the two boys arrived, they came with gloves and tools and heat. Your phone call had shocked them. They didn't know that you had known for years about what they had done at your old hometown. But they had come for you anyway.

It was almost mesmerizing, watching Billy and Stu hack away at the body. It was the first time they'd done so, they had told you. You could see Billy physically try to stop the twisted grin that spread along his face. And if the childlike glee that crossed Stu's face and said anything, it was something he had fantasized about countless nights.

Once they had tied the individual body parts in burlap sacks and stuffed them into Stu's sedan, they had informed you of their plan to burn them in a bonfire deeper within the woods. They offered to drive you home. You refused. Soaked head to toe in drying blood and coagulating viscera, you wanted nothing more than to jump into the still, cold water and bathe in the endorphins that still fogged your mind. You had expected your two friends to shrug their shoulders and leave, opting to wash the blood now coating them in the comforting stream of a hot shower.

instead, they offered to join. You say you were going to get naked. They reply that they didn't mind. And in your hazy state of being, you hadn't noticed the dark, lustful clouds in their eyes; the way their eyes trailed up and down your body and took in whatever you had to offer. Something they had, unbeknownst to you, fantasized about when they were alone, and when they were together.

It didn't take long for the three of you to start touching one another. Under the pretenses of "You've got some blood there" or "let me get that for you" you allowed large, tainted hands to roam over you. Your mind begins to wander. You think of the glint of the knife he had dropped in his inebriation, the glimpses of organs within the gashes from the way you had drove it into him over and over. Flashes of the man's too-purple, too-green face after you strangled his dying body. Disgusting thoughts that sped through your mind like a macabre, lurid kaleidoscope you had never even wanted to look through, but was forced into your eye socket anyway.

Arousal sickeningly stirred in your being, and you could see it stir in theirs, the tips of their erections now bobbing just slightly above the water you three waded in, shame absent in their eyes as you washed each other. When you absentmindedly went to grab Billy's in front of you, in front of his boyfriend who stood just behind you, you were still dazed from all that had happened. His groan startled you out of your trance and you pull your arm back as if he was a match and you had been burned. Red shame covered your face as you stuttered out an apology to the two, you didn't know what was wrong with you, why you did that, "oh god im sorry".

This is all quieted when Stu presses himself against your back, his large hands trailing from their spot on your shoulders, down your arms, and settling on your hips. His hardness pushed against your still bloody back and you gasp. You look back at him questioningly, and where you expected to see blue in his eyes you saw black. Billy moved to grab your jaw and turn you to face him once again. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips parted to say words that had you almost keeling over.

"Do that again."

So you did. And then the metaphorical dam burst. Pumping him as the three of you stood in the water, you felt Stu press tightly to you, using your back and his stomach to grind his erection between slick skin. His hand reached around to begin rubbing you slowly and just as you're about to collapse from the sudden spark of pleasure, his other arm wrapped around your waist to hold you up.

Billy's grip on your jaw hadn't relinquished, but his other hand had come up to grasp the side of your neck. You were forced to stare him dead in the eyes and he bites his lips and groans as you tighten your grip and twist your wrist. He tells you how good you're working him and Stu chimes in about how hot this was. The moonlight bathing the three of you had Billy looking ethereal, and you couldn't help but try and move forward to kiss him. He wouldn't let you though, a playful smirk on his features as his hand gripped your throat not only from the side, but now wholly. His eyes flickered behind you, and with the cruelty only a man like Billy Loomis could muster, he kisses Stu and turns your head to watch.

If the sight wasn't enough to tow you over the edge, the fingers that moved to enter you finally was. Stu begins pumping them into you, curling to rub that one spot as Billy's chest presses against yours. You let out a pathetic moan, eyes tearing up and body trembling as a the orgasm that had been building finally sweeps over you. The two finish their impromptu make-out session, and turn to look at you.

Unbridled affection pools in their eyes at the sight of their twitching, glaze-eyed, still bloody and beautiful companion. They had had you in all aspects but love, and they could hardly believe they could now finally have you in the way the two had craved for years. In the way the two had spoken of in hushed whispers during and after hot, steamy fucking or a lazy movie marathon. In a way the two had buried deep inside, afraid of the unconventional and afraid of rejection from the only other person they had ever grown to love besides each other.

Billy pushes your still lazily stroking hand off of him and turns you to face Stu, whispering in your ear to "wait just a sec" before wading off back onto the shore to grab something. Stu's lips crash onto yours before you can say a thing, and soon his cock is in your mouth as you kneel further into the water. You look up at him as your lips and tongue work, gliding them along the underside before taking him deep. He stares down at you and the grip of his hand in your hair has you groaning around him, the tremors setting off needy moans in the man himself. He calls you his world, tells you how badly he wanted this, wanted you. How much he and Billy needed you between them, around them, on top of them, below them.

A pair of hands on your shoulders pulls you up and off of Stu. With a noise of indignation, you see Stu shoot Billy a 'what the fuck' look, before a flash of white light passes over his face and a too wide grin appears on his visage. He cackles as you turn around to see what Billy had shown him.

His bowie knife.

"Holy shit."

Was all that could leave your lips. Your loins burned and ached now, the excitement practically palpable on your tongue. With a gesture of the knife, Billy has Stu move you two closer to the shore, so that the water just barely hit his and Stu's knees. With a command of "lift them up." you feel Stu's hands under your thighs as he lifts you off your feet and spreads your legs, allowing you to lean your back against his chest. Billy doesn't ask for consent; he didn't need to. He knew the moment he and Stu had heard what happened that whatever dark shit swirled in their being was present in you as well.

The cold steel of the knife teased your collarbone, the sharp edge pulling a whimper from your mouth just as much as it pulled that unrelenting bubble of fear in your gut. You couldn't taste the steel, but somehow something thick and acetic coated your tongue. Is that how anticipation tastes like? Or were you just imagining Billy fucking your mouth with the knife? You didn't know.

The sharp sting of metal breaking skin pulled you out of your reverie as Billy pulled the knife down your sternum to just above your belly button. Blood pooled as he went, releasing in small rivulets, and you both shuddered. Billy's expression could hardly be contained. It was savage, a toothy grin on his face and he could hardly believe that he was cutting you up. He felt like any second his dick or the world would explode . He leaned down to tongue at the wound, probing the now searing flesh, and you hiss. It hurt, but it didn't. It hurt, but also made you want to cum. Billy's tongue, now sufficiently coated, moved to one of your nipples as he alid his hands along your chest and sides. He could taste both your blood and the dried blood of the man, a combination he thought he'd like but quickly decided against when he noticed the juxtaposition of your sweetness and the acrid taste of the man. He thinks he wants Stu's blood on you next time.

Stu groans at the sight of his boyfriend's tongue on his best friend's bloodied chest, and before you knew it you felt his cockhead probing your entrance before gingerly slipping you down onto him. You gasp at the dual sensations; the sharp pain of Billy's tongue moving back to your wound and the pleasure of Stu slipping inside of you with nary a warning, hitting you deep and well. Stu's grip on the back of your thighs tightens as he begins to languidly move you up and down on his cock.

Billy continues working your chest with his tongue before beginning the path southward. His pupils dilate even further, if possible, at the sight of the blood having trailed down to stain your genitals in crimson. Stu's cock was also now a diluted red color from thrusting in and out of you, both your juices and blood covering him. Billy licked his lips at the slight, leaning forward to begin working you over with his tongue, head dipping down slightly to every so often to lap at Stu as well. It was more for his sick pleasure than either of yours, as Stu's thrusting jostled you too hard for Billy to properly work you over, but the small flicks of tongue that were able to brush your most sensitive area had you whining.

Before long, Stu's movements had become jagged and rushed, and he moved to have his whole arms wrapped around the underside of your thighs and torso, using his hands to grip at his elbows and nearly fold you in half. The new angle hit you just right and once Billy felt he had had enough of a taste, his hand moved to speedily rub you. You almost scream through your second orgasm as it hits, thankful that you were in the middle of the woods and at the river, far from anyone. Your insides clenching and pulling on Stu had him burying his face in your neck, and a few minutes later he releases inside of you with a bite that breaks skin.

Stu slides out of you with a groan, allowing his cum to dribble out of you and into the water. But instead of setting you down, the two move you back onto shore. Billy was once again instructing Stu on where to place you, and as he lays you down on a patch of damp grass, you're surprised to see Billy straddle your abdomen. He regards you for a second, taking in your wet, bloodied visage again for what felt like the thousandth time that night. As his eyes drift to your wound and his cock pulses in front of you, he lowers himself down. Your eyes widen as you begin to understand what he's getting at, and you watch in awe as he uses his thumb to press the underside of his cock to your sternum, onto your wound.

You feel both the hardness of his length on the cut, as well as the softness of his balls begin to slide back and forth and you throw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut. A whiny noise leaves your lips, and you can hear Billy chuckle and Stu's usual obnoxious laugh. They call you cute, and slutty, and perfect. You think to yourself how absolutely fucked up this is. How perfectly fitting this seems for someone horrible like Billy. He moves his hands to your chest to squeeze whatever you have to give against his length, regardless of how flat or voluminous you are, and his breath hitches as blood is smeared all over your abdomen and his cock.

The pain makes you dizzy in a way that isn't as bad as you thought it'd be. It stings, and it feels too hot. Yet the expressions your best friend (boyfriend?) makes as he glides himself along faster and faster makes it all worth it. In the corner of your eye you see Stu fisting himself rapidly, hard and leaking once again. He makes eye contact with you and grins, moving closer on his knees to now stroke himself almost above your chest next to Billy.

Giving your chest another squeeze and pulling whatever he can even further against his cock, Billy bends himself downward to hover right over your lips. He smiles at you, a real smile, and you smile back. He moves down the rest of the way to kiss you in a way that is somehow chaste and passionate at once. By the time he pulls back, his eyes are glazed and his cock is twitching, and after a long deep groan he releases right onto your wound. The sight brings Stu over the edge, and within a few seconds your chest is absolutely bathed in cum.

The night had begun cold and ended warm. Words of praise for how good you did were thrown your way from the two boys, and the three of you laugh. Neither of you are sure why. Maybe it was the post-sex high. Maybe it was the fact you killed someone and Billy and Stu's first instinct was to fuck you. Maybe it was because the three of you finally were able to come together in the way you had all desperately wanted. Maybe it was the non-verbal acknowledgement that the three of you were the scum of the Earth.

Whatever it was, you were glad for it. The three of you burned the body that night, and later when you laid down in their bed with them your limbs tangled and kisses and make-outs exchanged, the only thoughts that went through your mind is how glad you were to not be alone.

[frighthouseofalighthouse]

I'M GONNA DO IT TO EM' ALL ASKS THAT YOU REBLOG TONIGHT TILL 10 AM TOMORROW.... DO THEM!!!!

Hey, you had to do it to ‘em! Here they are starting with the most recent.

“Weird asks that say a lot”

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

Coffee mugs because you can use them for everything. Teacups are too small for a proper cuppa.

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Chocolate bars always.

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

Bubblegum, which I miss so much. I haven’t had it in over 2 years bc of my braces

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

I didn’t go to public school but all the adults who dealt with me said I was sociable and tried to get everyone to do the group projects but no one listened so I ended up sitting alone reading and quietly doing the project.

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

Glass BOTTLES make it taste superior.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

Pastel boho preppy goth best describes my style.

7. earbuds or headphones?

Earbuds, but only rubber tipped ones. The plastic ones never fit in my ears. Also headphones never cover my whole ear right. :/

8. movies or tv shows?

TV shows keep my attention span better.

9. favorite smell in the summer?

Brewing thunderstorms.

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

None. But trampoline if I had to pick.

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

Scrambled eggs, peanut butter toast, and some kind of fruit.

12. name of your favorite playlist?

My main one is Things You Love. My one for writing is Queen And Country, and my other two favorites are Summer Songs and A Queen Knows How To Fight A War.

13. lanyard or key ring?

Key ring, lanyards get in the way.

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Swedish Fish or Sour Patch Kids.

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

OH MAN. To Kill A Mockingbird, The Great Gatsby, Fahrenheit 451, The Grapes Of Wrath, and The Handmaid’s Tale were definitely my top 5 in English class.

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

Curled up sideways in an armchair with my legs slung over the arm. Sitting normally sucks.

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

Either pair of my black boots, or my pink floral Skechers that I wear to work.

18. ideal weather?

60 degrees, cloudy, windy, with a chance of rain.

19. sleeping position?

On my right side, arms around a fluffy pillow, one leg out straight and the other drawn up with my knee to my chest.

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Laptop. I’m trying to exercise my hand and wrist so I don’t tire as quick of notebook writing, though.

21. obsession from childhood?

History, Nancy Drew books, Harry Potter, and ghost stories.

22. role model?

The person I am but don’t think I am.

23. strange habits?

Pulling my shirt collar up over my nose and mouth/putting it in my mouth and chewing on it.

24. favorite crystal?

Amethyst, my birthstone! Close second is blue goldstone. (Have you ever seen it? It looks like the universe. I have a worrystone made of blue goldstone and it’s one of my prized possessions.)

25. first song you remember hearing?

Something from church probably. Outside of church probably one of these: If I Had A Hammer // Peter, Paul and Mary, Puff The Magic Dragon // Peter, Paul and Mary, Scarborough Fair // Simon & Garfunkel, The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald // Gordon Lightfoot.

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Sit in the shade.

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

Drink tea, read, and play either Pokemon or Nancy Drew and the Clue Benders Society on my 3DS.

28. five songs to describe you?

The Pines // Roses & Revolutions, I Am Here // Pink, Walk Me Home // Pink, Call Home // Heathers (not the musical), Traveler’s Song // Aviators

29. best way to bond with you?

Talk to me about history, crime, musicals, books, or tv shows

30. places that you find sacred?

Natural swamps. Libraries. Old, overgrown gardens. Anywhere historic. Pine forests at dusk. Anywhere under a clear night sky.

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

A plaid shirt, black leggings, and black boots with dark neutral lipstick and a black choker.

32. top five favorite vines?

Fre she vocado, BENTLEY NOOOOO, uhhh I sure hope it does, the one of Lin Manuel-Miranda trying to brainstorm, and this bitch empty YEEt

33. most used phrase in your phone?

Idk how to find this out

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

Idk if this is just a local thing here but WOW ITS NATURESTONE

35. average time you fall asleep?

12-1 nowadays.

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

I can haz cheezburger

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

Depends. Suitcase for things like my laptop that are better protected than in a duffel bag, but duffel bag otherwise because they’re easier to carry.

38. lemonade or tea?

TEAAAAA

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

Both please

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

My house? We had a safe word when we did math. It was “quokka.” If we got overwhelmed we’d say it and then stop and look at pictures of quokkas.

41. last person you texted?

My friend and coworker.

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

Jacket pockets.

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

Cardigan or hoodie

44. favorite scent for soap?

Lavender

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

Fantasy. It takes me a bit to get into fantasy books usually, but sci-fi is hard to follow and superhero is mostly predictable.

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

Fuzzy pants and a t shirt

47. favorite type of cheese?

Muenster, parmesan, or goat cheese

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

Raspberry

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

“I have no country to fight for. My country is the earth, and I am a citizen of this world.” - Eugene V. Debs

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

A weird local political ad a couple years back.

51. current stresses?

My recent breakup, an overnight shift I work on Wednesday night, and trying to find time to go out to a corn maze with my friend.

52. favorite font?

Baskerville or Georgia.

53. what is the current state of your hands?

Covered in small cuts and scrapes from work, nails picked short, black nail polish mostly peeled off.

54. what did you learn from your first job?

babysitting job: Kids suck never have more than one. Retail job: being on your fee it hardddd

55. favorite fairy tale?

Beauty and the Beast or Rapunzel

56. favorite tradition?

Looking at Halloween decorations

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

Cutting, being manipulated by my dad, and letting other people make me believe I wasn’t good enough (still working on that one)

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

Writing, puzzle-solving, singing, and calligraphy

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

“Oh shit waddup”

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

One of those preppy gothic private school animes with a dark secret lurking around the corner

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

Book: “Ignoring isn’t the same as ignorance. You have to work at it.” - The Handmaid’s Tale. Movie: “It’s not about deserve. It’s about what you believe. And I believe in love.” - Wonder Woman. TV Show: “I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself.” - Doctor Who.

62. seven characters you relate to?

Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Remus Lupin, Richard Gansey III, Blue Sargent, Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury.

63. five songs that would play in your club?

Same five that I said describe me.

64. favorite website from your childhood?

Webkinz and the old American Girl site circa 2009.

65. any permanent scars?

One down my chest from heart surgery as a baby, lots from self harm on my arms/legs, some on my left knee from falling as a kid, and one on the back of my right heel from being pecked by a goose at the fair when I was 11.

66. favorite flower(s)?

Sunflowers, roses, and dahlias.

67. good luck charms?

Myself.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Ranch anything.

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

Jellyfish have no brains and no heart.

70. left or right handed?

I’m third generation left handed!

71. least favorite pattern?

Vertical stripes.

72. worst subject?

Math.

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

Wendy’s fries and chocolate frosty.

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

7. Usually I just ignore it because I have a “high pain tolerance” (which means I like to put myself through minor pains because I think I deserve it)

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

Age 5. I was trying to blow up an inflatable ball and it came out.

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

ALL POTATOES EXCEPT POTATO SALAD

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

Violets.

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Neither, both suck equally.

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

Never had a school id so I guess the license

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

Earth tones for me

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

...They are literally the same thing

82. pc or console?

PC

83. writing or drawing?

Writing. I absolutely cannot draw.

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Podcasts, talk radio is so obnoxious.

84. barbie or polly pocket?

Barbie. The clothes are easier to take on and off. I used to accidentally rip polly pocket clothes all the time.

85. fairy tales or mythology?

Mythology. I like it because it explains things, it’s creation stories, its origins. Fairy tales are just fantasies or cautionary tales.

86. cookies or cupcakes?

Cookies.

87. your greatest fear?

Rejection, drowning, and clowns.

88. your greatest wish?

To be a semi-successful author and historian.

89. who would you put before everyone else?

My mom.

90. luckiest mistake?

Not succeeding in killing myself!

91. boxes or bags?

Bags.

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

Dim lamps if they have yellow bulbs. I hate white lights. And also fairy lights yes please.

93. nicknames?

Ellie, Ell, Little Lion, Lioness.

94. favorite season?

FALLLLL

95. favorite app on your phone?

Tumblr, Spotify, or Instagram.

96. desktop background?

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

6.

98. favorite historical era?

Revolutionary War-era America or late Victorian England.

THIS GOT REALLY LONG AND I DONT WANNA HIT THE TEXT BLOCK LIMIT SO IMMA DO ALL THE HALLOWEEN ONES SEPARATELY, MAYBE IN THE MORNING.