#only to realize too late that he never went to the moon and wouldnt know what the watchers palace looks like

[haunted-xander]

The idea of Alphinaud painting stuff from our journey(s) wouldn't leave my mind so here you go!

+ some close-ups of the paintings

[rougepearl]

Chuuya Nakahara X Reader (NSFW) 🤍

(First time posting on tumblr, using an old fic to figure out how to fully use this app…Also please reboot and like if this is an okay start to this app 😭)

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It's felt like forever since you have last seen your boyfriend. Only being four days and it seemed like an eternity.

You weren’t sure when Chuuya would get back from his mission but you'd at least hope he’d come back with his legs and arms intact.

Usually his missions would take 2 days maximum. Considering his ability, Chuuya would easily take out everyone.

You do recall what had happened the last time you saw him though.

Laying down on the sofa your mind begins to flashback to the memory. It was late at night when he left. You two had just came back from a mindful dinner and went back to his apartment.

There wasnt much you could do but kiss him goodbye and hope for the best outcome. ‘The best outcome’ huh?’

The same words kept repeating over and over in your head. Almost like counting jumping sheep in your sleep, except they wouldnt stop and keep going.

Even if something were to happen to Chuuya, you wouldnt know what you would do. All the money in the world could be yours, but that wouldn’t bring him back…

These horrifying thoughts kept running around in your head, it was too much to control.

That was until you heard a knock on the door.

Immediately jumping off the sofa you walk towards the door in slow careful steps. “Who’s there?” You yelled outloud instead of checking the peephole

“Who do ya’ think?”

Hearing the recognizable voice made your eyes go wide open in joy

“Chuuya!!”

You opened the door seeing his silhouette due to the bright moon starring by the window behind him, but Chuuya didnt come in yet.

While you walked to the kitchen in glee hoping to get him some tea he just stood by the threshold leaning his body over the frame.

“Hey Chuu- Ugh come in.”

Turning around you see him still standing there like a puppet

“Hey Chuu? Everything okay?” You got closer to him seeing his features up close.

Not realizing his dominant presence you tried tugging at his shoulder trying to get him to come in

“You still dont remember?” “Huh? Remember what?”

“Never mind, lets just finish that movie you wanted to watch.” He brushed his shoulder against yours, passing you as he left you standing there with the cup of tea in your hands.

You close the door and headed to the sofa. “What was the movie called again?”

Your boyfriend has asked to which you only responded “ 2 “

“Hey can you go turn the lights off while I make the popcorn?” “Yeah hold on…”

Chuuya used his ability to throw a pillow to the light switch toggling the lights off.

Now the only light source was the dimly lit cityscape outside the big tall windows, or the TV playing the rest of the movie.

As Chuuya searched for the movie on the screen, you could hear how silent it was now. All that could be heard were the popping sounds of the popcorn in the microwave, and maybe the faint sound of cars honking from fifty two floors below.

You were too focused on thinking too much that the sound of the microwave stopping startled you back into reality. Turning your focus to Chuuya who was trying to find the last place you guys had left off.

After placing the popcorn in a bowl you head back over to the couch, sitting right beside Chuuya.

Placing the bowl in the center, just as youre about to grab the folded blanket thats at the other end Chuuya grabs it. “I got it don't worry,” having it fall on top of each other's snuggled bodies.

You try to get comfortable but the gear and equipment your boyfriend has on his waist isnt helping. He notices and takes the guns out of his pocket and places it on the other sofa block beside him.

Getting comfy you two begin to continue watching the movie.

A couple minutes pass and you begin to feel cramped in the current position you were in. “Hold on…” You say as begin to move around. Chuuya only looks at you for a brief moment before pulling the blanket up more.

Stretching your hand out into the air while the other stretches just out, you yawn for quite a moment, until you heard a small yelp from Chuuya’s mouth.

You look over at him with your hands still in place. One hand over his mouth while the other is… trying to move your other hand.

Eyes trailing down to where his other hand was, not realizing what you were doing.

You were accidently brushing up your boyfriends crotch as you were stretching. The silence in the air and the horrid look on your face only made things worse.

Looking up you saw the redness spreading all over your boyfriends face.

It had you thinking, how far could you go with this?

“I’m sorry Chuu…” You lifted yourself up and jumped onto him, hugging him close.

Everything was well until you decided to purposely brush your hips up against him.

Snuggling you face in the crook of his neck and making sure to let out an airy breath, he took notice of it.

He grabbed your shoulders and sure you looked at him. “Dont think I don’t realize what youre doing.”

With his hands still having you by the grasp, he flips you over. Now youre laying down on the long white sofa.

Hands near your shoulders facing Chuuya, he takes advantage and holds the wrists of them. Placing his knee in between your thighs, and bringing his face closer to yours.

But instead of leaning for your lips he leans towards your left ear. “Not being so confident now are we?”

Shaking your head he brings himself back up. “…But its a movie night, so Ill spare you some slack.”

Sitting back up you look over at him who continues to watch the movie while youre still trying to comprehend what just happened. “Chuu… Hey Chuuya.”

“Hm?”

He turns his head over to you.

“…”

“Just this once?”

He sees that look in your eyes. Tilting his face, he only smirks at the remark. Climbing back on top of you he leans his face close again, And leaves a peck on the side of your cheek “Sure thing princess.”

Your lips part ways as he moves his closer to yours. Taking in the soft yet passionate kiss, you could feel his unbearably cold hands slither down your stomach.

He grabs your hips again and presses you close against him.

Wrapping your legs around him his hands move back up and as he still holds the kiss he begins to bring your shirt up, trying to take it off.

You try to help him but his hands only hold yours, “You just relax alright darling?”

He takes your shirt off and then tries to unzip your pants.

As you follow in sync, Chuuya’s breath only gets heavier. He placed his hand in your hair, pulling you closer towards him.

Not even ring bothered that maybe the other sky high buildings across the street could probably see you two messing around.

It was all happening too fast. Chuuya grabbed your thighs and scooted your ody closer to his, while he was kissing and swallowing the loud noises you were already making.

You could feel his throbbing down there, all you had left on was just your bra and your panties. In no time Chuuya instantly pulled down the lace fabric down.

“Tell me when to stop alright princess.” “Mhm..” You could only nod your head in response.

He began to lick the folds, making you squirm underneath. You threw your head back over the pillow your head was resting on, just enjoying the pleasurable sensation that was overcoming you.

Chuuya’s hand were grabbing your thighs spreading them apart. Once he brought his head back up he saw that you were clenching onto any soft part of the sofa, “This wont take a while.” He said as he intertwined one hand with yours whilst the other was still in between your cunt, swirling his finger around in all sorts of directions.

“Chuu~ Ah” Was all that could come out of that nasty mouth of yours. “Say it, go on.”

“Please.”

“Please what?” He continued moving his tongue on your clit while his fingers were brushing up against your entrance “Youre so fucking wet, cmon just say it already.” He cooed at you.

“Please just… do it already…” You lifted your head ‘up’ and your eyes met with the gun that was placed aside on the sofa. Chuuya noticed this and thought maybe you wanted the gun to be inside.

“Oh this old one… If you say so darling.” He leaned his head forward to you again, making your reddened cheeks only burn more. “ But make sure you cum for me.” He whispered softly in your ear.

He clicked on the gun, and placed it near your entrance. As his two fingers, the middle and index were sort of holding the gun in a strange position, he made sure his thumb was still fingering your clit over and over again.

“Chuuya.” “Say what now?” “Ah~”

He loved watching you be a hot mess. It always turned him on, even if it meant he didnt get off. But he would love to see you be high on him.

He placed the tip of the gun closer to your entrance, taunting you with it.

“Ah~ Ah~ Ngh~ Chuuya… AaaA”

Finally after minutes of him sort of circling the gun near your cunt, and him rubbing your clit you finally came.

White and clear fluids were now all over the tip of the gun running down as Chuuya brought the gun up to his face. He licked the liquid that was running down the object “Ya taste good, know that?”

“Oh please.”

You covered your face in embarrassment. This wasnt how this was suppose to go.

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[the-midnight-slasher-official]

Hey I love your blog!!! I wanted to request a smut with Thomas Hewitt where the reader teases him all day and when they go to sleep he snaps and fucks her hard? 👉👈

Sorry about the late reply. life kicked me hard.

ANYWAYS!! no problem!

WARNING: minors dni, 18+.

you have been feeling needy lately. very needy. Thomas was busy and you know that, but you didnt want to bother him while he was working on his hobby such as ripping off peoples ears and collecting them. oof. 'A little teasing never hurt anything' you thought to yourself. soon enough you'll be eating those words as you traveled down into the basement where he was working at the moment.

"Tommy!" you said while hopping down the stairs cheerfully. he grunted when he looked up at you and went back to what he was doing. you touched his arm and he flinched. "oh dont be worried babe" you said winking at him. He relaxed and continued what he was doing. He flinched harder when he felt a hand brush and squeeze his crotch. He looked at you and you winked and walk away.

As he was watching you walk away you 'accidentally' knocked something off of his desk and 'accidentally' bent over showing off your ass as you picked it up. You smiled in triumph when you heard his breath hitch. As he was walking over you got up and walked away without even saying anything. He grunted in disapproval and walked away continuing what he was doing at his desk. silently cursing you.

Around dinner time you kept brushing against him while setting the table and getting food prepared. Once everyone sat down, you sat done next to Thomas as per usual. He looked grumpy and fed up as you touched his thigh and traveled upwards. He glared at you and gave you a warning look. You just smiled and took your hand off of him, but not before brushing it against his crotch.

Bed time soon came and thomas was more than ready to go to sleep. It was about midnight when he packed up everything and headed upstairs to his room. He opened the door and was met with darkness. The only light that guided him through the room was the light from the moon from outside the window. He looked over and seen your sleeping form. He smiled seeing the way your chest rose and fell calmly in your state of sleep.

He took off his clothes and got into bed. His breath hitched when he lifted the blanket to see that you were completely naked. ZERO clothes. He huffed and was fed up with the teasing off all day, and now this? really y/n? He kicked the blankets off and looked at your bare chest. He was about the dive right in and take the plump breast into his mouth until he realized that his mask was still on. Old habit. He grumbled and took it off throwing it, not caring where it landed or where he'll find it in the morning at this point.

As soon as his mask flew off he immediately took your nipple into his mouth and began to suck hard leaving dark marks. You knew what he was doing but still tried not to stir awake too much, still trying to play the game of teasing. He knew you were awake when your breathe hitched when his tongue met your neck. If you didnt mind teasing him all day then im sure you wouldnt mind him fucking you all night.

He moved on top of you and spread your legs. He smiled down at you when you finally stopped acting and opened your eyes. He then slid two fingers into your cunt and finger fucked you hard not even caring if it hurts or not. Good thing you were already wet. You were thinking of thomas before bed and decided to play with yourself. After he finger fucked you, he looked you dead in the eyes and licked his fingers clean.

You whimpered seeing him lick your juices of his fingers. He groaned in satisfaction and then brought his cock to your awaiting hole. Without a second thought he sheathed himself inside and began pounding. fuck he was huge. No matter how many times he made love to you. You are never going to get used to his dick size. Hes too big and thick for you to handle.

He shifted his hips and began pounding your g-spot. You then began screaming "there!" and he happily obliged. You screamed his name as you squirted on his cock. Holding on to his arms for dear life. He began pounding harder not caring if your getting overstimulated. You fucked with him, now hes going to fuck with you. He reached down and harshly rubbed your clit. You tried to scramble away from him but his iron clad grip on you was too strong for you to overpower.

You were cumming again, and you couldnt help but writhe and grip literally anything around you, the bed sheet, the bedpost, the pillow, thomas, his hair, your hair. As you were about to scream he covered your mouth as he continued his harsh pounding. You knew he was nearing his end when he slowed a bit. He twitched and seen shot his load deep within you. He pulled back and took a few deep breaths to gather himself. he then spread you legs that you closed and admired his work.

He grumbled in irritation as he noticed his seed seeping out of you. 'teases me all day, irritates me. She clearly wanted this. and now shes wasting it? i think the fuck not' he thought to himself. He then used his thick finger to push it back in, not caring for your whimpers of overstimulation. Apparently his fingers werent enough to keep it in. So he rammed his dick back inside and kept it there. and ribbed your poor clit. He loved the feeling of your hole pulsing around him. After your nth orgasm he pushed your knees up to your chest and pushed his cock deep inside until the tip was flush against your cervix and he shot another load.

the kept you both in that position for awhile until he thought that, that was enough and pulled out and went to your shared bathroom and came back with a wash cloth and a towel and cleaned you up and the mess as well. he then laid back down and pulled you to his chest. and kissed your cheek. He smiled when you pouted up at him for his harsh treatment earlier. He then gave you a look that pretty much read 'you get what you get'.

thank you for the request and i hope you all enjoy!!

[emonaculate]

AOT Freshman v Senior Year headcanons (Eren, Armin, and Mikasa)

❥ AU: Highschool!AU

❥ Genre: Fluff

❥ Rating: Everyone can read

❥ Pairing: hinted at Eren x reader

❥ Warnings Include: Profanity, mentions of violence, manipulation, mention of weed, and slight angst

❥ Author Note: I'm making this an entire series for the main cast or my favorite characters from AOT

Eren Yeager

Freshman year

Extremely fucking loud for no reason

Runs to class and somehow always manages to be late

Tries to pay attention in class but due to his ADHD would always spaces tf out

Despite being loud, only talks to Mikasa and Armin

Smells like nothing but AXE body spray, its not even a bad smell, its just too much

That kid that takes P.E. TOO fucking serious

"Eren you know why you're in trouble right?"

"No."

"...You hit your classmate in the face with a ball."

"He could have dodged."

"Eren it was a basketball, you broke his nose and chipped his tooth."

"He shouldn't have gotten so close to me."

Im sorry but totally dresses like this

Constantly compared to his older brother.

"Yeager... Are you by any chance related to Zeke Yeager?"

"No way, your brother is THE Zeke Yeager?"

Makes a name for himself rather quickly

Listens to heavy rock/metal music

He loves My Chemical Romance and Three Day Grace.

Learned how to play the guitar just so he could play "Teenagers"

Forced Mikasa and Armin to also listen to the bands

They ended up all deciding on making a small little garage band; Miki on vocals and drums, Min on bass, and Eren as lead vocalist and electric guitar.

His style changed randomly but no one questioned it since his personality remained the same.

Senior year

180 personality

Completely mellowed tf out

Either he is in class on time or not showing up at all

Senioritis is strong within him

Works better when he is completely out of it

STONER

This mf always high as shit

Either you love him, hate him, or respect him there is no inbetween

MANBUN

Smart as hell but usually on the low

His music taste has changed a little

LOVES POLITICAL RAP

J.cole and Kendrick stan; it is not up for debate

His favorite songs are Neighbors by J.Cole and Alright by Kendrick

Listens to throwback RnB when high

Still godly at the guitar

Has a couple stick and poke tattoos; He has one behind his ear matching Min and Miki.

He has the sun, Armin has the ocean waves, Mikasa has the moon

PIERCINGS

A total of 8; 4 in his left and 2 in his right + the industrial

Has a tongue piercing

A two slices in his eyebrow but only got them as a dare

Most of them minus the industrial piercing was done at home because he has an abnormally high pain tolerance.

Dresses like this

Doesnt really play sports but is super good at soccer and basketball

He's actually good at most sports just refuses to join because why would he want to support a corrupted system??

Still more of a loner but has a rather nice friend group

Looks mean asf but is actually really nice

Goes the hardest for his friends

You fuck with them = you getting your shit rocked by him

100% the friend that hits you for forgetting to eat

Despite being hot as shit; never really has a girlfriend

Its only because hes oblivious or just not interested

Deathly scary when hes pissed

If you guys got beef; there is no talking

Its on sight bro

Be prepared to get beat the fuck up

A few things that makes him go from 0 to 100 is racism, mocking disabled people, and domestic violence

He's an activist

If you need help organizing a protest; he'll help and somehow manage to get people to come.

Basically a really good guy just hot headed as hell

Armin Arlert

Freshman Year

The kid who looked up those lame videos on how to survive highschool.

Panicked when it came to speaking in class

Stuttered like hell

AP CLASSES

He's way too advanced like could graduate early but refuses to so he can stay with his friends

Super sweet but extremely naive

People definitely took advantage of him.

"Hey Armin, my dog got in a car accident so I wasnt really focused in class, can you give me the homework answers?"

"Yeah sure its no problem."

Sends them a whole ass powerpoint on the entire lesson and teaches them better than the actual teacher.

Band nerd

Can play the Piano, Bass, and Trumpet

Listens to Mother Mother and Queen religiously

Only joined Eren's garage band after he agreed to watch Bohemian Rhapsody

Dresses like this

Moved in with Ren and Miki after he went through some shit with his family; he came out as bisexual after realizing he was attracted to one of his classmates.

Sometimes worries that Eren gets uncomfortable but relaxes after he remembers who Eren really is.

Wouldn't trade his friends for the world

Senior Year

His glow up took awhile because he didnt really feel the need to change

He was always rather cute; just shy and timid

VALEDICTORIAN

Slightly because he manipulated his runner up into become a burnout gifted kid lmao

Everyone has his Snapchat and Instagram so they can get help

Now he knows when people are using him and he still lets them; the only difference is you fuck with him and he can make you end up repeating the same grade.

Lets people copy his test and at the last minute pauses and erases all his answers before putting the correct ones.

No one has realized his plan.

His fashion sense changed a lot

Subconsciously tries to match Eren all the time

The only person that noticed was Mikasa; she thinks its cute

Is in love with Russian foreign exchange student, Annie.

He talks to her from time to time before gathering enough courage to ask her out

Doesnt realize how popular he is.

Oftentimes volunteers at the aquarium to study the ocean life as well as help out.

Helps plenty of organizations clean up the ocean.

A total of four piercings and the tattoo that matches his friends.

Two in his ears and nipple piercings.

It was a dare he sobbed through

Mikasa Ackerman

Freshman year

Basketcase

Follows Eren and Armin around

Super quiet

Doesn't really have much of a personality

She is cute though

Dresses like this

Like I said no real personality at all

Well except she was the girl who thought she was in a romance novel

Especially when Eren would get into a fight.

"Eren look at me... This isnt you."

"Mikasa move."

Most times it wouldnt work.

It was just cringy man...

Can play the violin, flute, piano, and cello

Only learned the drums so she could play with Eren and Armin

A secret pop stan

Loves Ariana Grande and Doja Cat

Thank god she manages to grow out of that yucky phase.

Senior Year

GOTH GF

Track, Gymnast, and female basketball player

She mellowed out as well and became her own person

Still heavily in love with Eren

Confessed to him during a karaoke session to the song Baby I by Ariana Grande; he didnt realize.

Sang her heart out and was a blushing mess but still got no where

Has deep down accepted that she may never be more than just his friend

Is okay with it and NOT toxic when he's crushing on someone else

Just wants him to be happy

Saw how he looked at some girl during a fundraiser to raise money for animal shelters and realized that he may never look at her like that.

Turned a guy down because Armin had a crush on him

The ultimate wing girl

Introduced Eren to her opponent after a track meet after realizing it was the girl from the fundraiser.

Dresses like this

Super sweet despite her look

However pick on her friends and you're fucked

CAN and WILL whoop your ass

The only person who can get Eren to not fight.

Pissed them both off at the same time and you're screwed

Has a total of three piercings

Her ears and nose

Loves her boys more than anything

Stays with Eren while her parents travel to help with natural disasters

Noticed that Armin's ideal type is Eren but never mentioned it because she knows Armin would overract

Very observant

Just wants the best for her friends even if she is the one who ends up happy

Eventually falls for the guy that asked her out junior year.

Still close to her boys because they come before anyone.

[springfieldblues]

my long ass review for S32E03 Now Museum, Now You Don’t

warning: LONG because i rambled about history more than i thought i would

id been looking forward to this one because i like art history, especially after seeing how they tried their best to stick to historical accuracy in the previous episode I, Carumbus. this time however….they didnt try that hard. i dont know why i thought theyd go through that sort of trouble again LMAO

but its okay, i dont really expect the simpsons to be the paragon of historical accuracy or anything. especially in anthology episodes told through a particular character's lens (in this case, lisa, whos already feverish so whatever)

first i just wanna say that this is, i guess, less of a review and more of an accidental list of history fun facts. so im just gonna get my general thoughts out of the way first.

the episode was fun! to me at least haha. i mean it got me to think and do a lot of research on my own so that must count for something. besides a couple of really weird ones, the jokes were good. anthology episodes tend to be….not that good but i thought this one was one of the better ones so far. idk.

anyway on to lisanardo da vinky its the renaissance! jesus christ the italian accents in the beginning of this segment were annoying as hell but i also feel like that was the joke lmao. ill be real i kind of tuned out for a second there when grampa started rambling so idk what he said.

i told myself i wouldnt get nitpicky with historical accuracy if the jokes were funny (final edit: so that was a lie) but this meh bit with the pizza guys and mascots was really not worth ignoring the fact that its impossible for italy to have any tomato-based food in the 15th century (tomatoes were brought to europe from the americas in the 16th century, and pizza as we know it today—flatbread, cheese, tomato—originated in the late 18th century)

oh this next part was kind of legit tho. lisanardo, like the real leonardo, became andrea del verrochio's apprentice at his workshop. i loved this next bit:

"Whoever paints the sweetest cherub will have the honor of having MY name signed on their work. That's what great artists do!"

SO YEAH as it turns out, lisanardo painted the sweetest cherubs. the painting here is called The Baptism of Christ, and the real leonardo assisted verrochio in finishing it. specifically, he painted the cherubs in the corner.

this causes verrochio to quit and go someplace with less talented people: a music school (yes, verrochio did quit painting after getting owned by young leo and his mad angel painting skills. he never did anything with music tho, he was more of a sculptor)

alongside lisanardo, in mr largo-verrochio's workshop we have barticelli (botticelli bart), dolphatello (donatello dolph), ralphael (raphael...ralph) and mediocrito (no one that i know of. sorry milhouse) (and kearney i guess but they dont refer to him by name). botticelli and donatello are said to have also been apprentices at verrochio's workshop, but raphael came a couple of decades later so he couldnt have been there. and donatello was too old so that claim is a bit questionable. but anyway

it IS true that leonardo's peers envied him, to the point where he was anonymously and purposefully accused of being gay (a major crime punishable by death in 15th century florence) while he was still working at verrochio's workshop

we are then treated by what im pretty sure is the fourth time the show has used 'at seventeen' by janis ian, this time sung by a dejected lisanardo (man they really do keep making yeardley sing these days huh) who only wishes to be appreciated and not envied.

"I'll show them all! I'll show them all in a secret diary that no one will decipher for 400 years!"

some of lisanardo's future inventions. who wouldve known

so after barticelli, for some reason (revenge??? or something?? what was his plan here idgi) steals lisanardo's diaries full of blueprints of her inventions and takes them to mr burns who i have to assume is pope alexander VI here, they decide to use her inventions for war.

"With these, we can kill the most evil people in the world!! ....Slightly different Christians."

leo actually did this of his own accord. im surprised this is what they decided to do with lisanardo instead of talking about leo's love of nature and vegetarianism (not a single mention of that in this episode? come on...) then again, trying to do good only to end up indirectly making things worse is a very standard lisa storyline. i guess they didnt want to miss the chance to have evil pope burns (very fitting, especially for that era since they were all about money and controlling the people)

so lisanardo decides to leave for france, unlike the real leonardo who was more or less persuaded by his ultimate fanboy king francis I to move to france.

"Lisanardo, I have many questions. Why are you hitting yourself? A nerd says 'what'? And how is it possible that I am rubber and you are glue? Et cetera, et cetera."

that line may seem a little random, like hes just nelson saying nelson things (and i mean, obviously he is) but the real francis also "had an unquenchable thirst for learning, and Leonardo was the world’s best source of experimental knowledge. He could teach the king about almost any subject there was to know, from how the eye works to why the moon shines." so yeah, he did have many questions and lisanardo, finally being appreciated for her intellect, was happy to answer them all. its very interesting how lisa assigned this role to nelson in her retelling of da vinci’s life :^)

and so she lived the rest of her days in france, nat king cole's 'mona lisa' plays because duh, and they make a da vinci code reference because duh. and the segment ends. and not a single time did they show the actual mona lisa painting. the fuck?

(ngl i was fully expecting bart to say 'leonardo da vinky' for a second here)

so this next segment is about french impressionist painters, most likely the batignolles group, a name adopted by the early representatives of impressionism. its much more vague than the lisanardo segment since no one here is referred to by name (except moe, more on him in a sec) but i dont feel like it really matters in this case. bart is prrrrooobably claude monet but its hard to say, this segment is kind of a mish-mash of a lot of things. also i gotta say i really liked how lisa introduced the story to bart with an 'if you hate the formal study of art' and not 'if you hate art' because thats exactly my headcanon. i LOVE the concept of artist bart and whenever its referenced it just makes perfect sense to me.

anyway the segment opens in 1863 at the école des beaux-arts (back then it was actually known as the académie des beaux-arts), preserver of traditional french art styles. skinner reviews his students’ paintings one by one. praises the plain, unimaginative paintings depicting your typical european countryside landscapes. very run-of-the-mill (haha get it...cuz theres….a windmill) (although the real académie didnt approve of such basic stuff, they wanted artists to draw epic historical and mythological scenes) then he gets to barts painting and he gives him an F- because the painting made him think.

(the paintings in this scene arent real famous paintings as far as i know but they are inspired by real paintings enough to get the point across)

in comes barney dressed as bacchus as a model for the students to sketch, which i just loved:

barney: “You prefer robe open or robe off?” skinner: “Just cover your privates with this walnut shell.” barney: “Whoa!!! So roomy!”

skinner gasps in horror at bart’s sketch, which “looks nothing like him” and bart explains that “it shouldn’t; we’re making the art that we feel because we can’t compete with a camera.” damn, you go bart. take that, realism. draw what you feel!!

(also no, you didnt need to hold still for 17 hours for a daguerreotype. 30 min tops.)

nelson haw-haw of the week: FOIE-gras!

so here they are at the moulin rouge (“enjoy it before baz luhrmann ruins it” hey shut up. i love that movie), which wouldnt be built for another 26 years, but it is the most widely known gathering place for bohemians in the public consciousness so i can understand why they went with the moulin. nelson delivers this anachronistic line:

“This époque keeps getting beller and beller!”

which alludes to la belle époque, the golden age of france usually dated from 1880 to 1914. made me snort so ill let that slide

and heres moe! as henri de toulouse-lautrec, who was actually born a year after the year this segment is set in. yo moe szyslak he was just 1

toulouse-moetrec introduces himself as the chronicler of the demimonde (not an actual job). an iconic figure associated with the moulin rouge (largely due to his affinity for alcohol and prostitutes), toulouse-lautrec was also a painter, having illustrated a series of posters for the moulin himself. he simply had to be in this segment, anachronisms be damned, just because they decided to include the moulin. cant have one without the other.

and yes he did have a walking cane where he kept his liquor.

i love how everyone drinks absinthe in this place. theyre bohemians what else would they drink

toulouse-moetrec points out that barts paintings are the greatest thing hes ever seen (and hes seen like five things!) and that hes a genius. milhouse realizes that they should stop doing what the teacher says and use their own minds to instead...start doing what bart says lmao. to the easels!

next we have skinner hyping up chalmers about the art his students made for the salon de paris, an art exhibition that the emperor of france will attend. he assures him that none of these paintings will encourage debate, provoke thought or be out of place at a dentist’s office. when they unveil the art, theyre both SHOCKED at how scandalous the paintings actually are.

this reaction was kind of accurate. impressionism was severely rejected at the salon de paris, due to paintings not looking finished enough to them, they thought they were ugly and vulgar for depicting nudity in a contemporary setting (historical and mythological nudity was fine). these impressionist paintings were sent to the salon de refusés, which is. yeah. the place where they sent the rejects. the salon de refusés does not make an appearance but this scene makes a reference to it when the artists get expelled from the royal salon. also:

“What about our student loans?” “Oh they’ll be refunded. We are not barbarians, I mean, come on.”

(god if only)

so the painters are down because they want the emperor to actually see their paintings. toulouse-moetrec pipes in once again with an idea.

“There is one thing the emperor loves more than anything.” “France?” “No, he hates France.”

apparently the emperor really loves cheese, which makes sense since its napoleon III (who loved cheese) and homer (who loves cheese.) so the painters roll into the salon inside a giant wheel of cheese (obviously.) as lenny said, “Eh, you know French cheese. Very runny.” napoleon III chases after the wheel into a room, where the wheel falls apart after getting chomped on by the emperor. now that they got his attention, the painters proudly show the emperor their impressionist art, which he couldnt be more indifferent about because he just wants to eat his cheese dammit, and he awards them with the royal medallion just to kind of get them out of his way. skinner immediately starts kissing ass (as he does) until marge’s like ‘hey wait a minute. you expelled these students from the royal salon’ and an executioner immediately starts ominously measuring skinners neck.

“Uh, sir...is your tongue sticking out because you’re dead or because you’re mad at me?”

and thats the end of that lmao (gore in this episode, gore in the last episode, and next week we’re getting gore too cuz its THOH, what the hell is goin on)

we get a short intermission with maggie, who wants a story for her too! lisa tells her that renaissance artists loved to put babies in their paintings, especially baby angels.

here she is showing her The Triumph Of Galatea by raphael:

King David Playing The Harp by peter paul reubens:

and a very simplified version of pretty much any depiction of hell by hyeronimus bosch lmao:

not much else to say about this one, really. but i really liked that sky!

the last segment is about frida kahlo and diego rivera. or as bart puts it ‘the one about a fat guy whos wife is too good for him.’ i was REALLY looking forward to this one because i love frida and i thought itd be a cool opportunity for animators to go bonkers and do really cool shit with her art as inspiration…..but the segment is not about frida, its about diego and his selling out to capitalism. and its also yet another story with homer and marge drama. no funky cool animation here. sigh i guess i’ll take it

the story begins in 1929 at la casa azul, frida’s home (now museum dedicated to her life and work.) frida and diego are getting married. this courtyard definitely did not look this way yet back in 1929. also theres something very cringy yet funny about lovejoy saying spanish words the way he does, i honestly cant decide how i feel about that one

the writers know theyre being cringy with their gringoness so they go along with it.

moe: “Spanish for ‘best wishes’!” mel: “Spanish for ‘congratulations’!” bumblebee man: “Spanish for ‘muy bueno’!”

OH YEAH BUMBLEBEE MAN this is his new voice actor, eric lopez! hes not mexican but its still great to finally have a latino actor voicing a latino character and hes very excited to be part of the show so i hope to hear more of him!! im rooting for him

el barto/zorro makes an appearance which i am very confused about. he has jack shit to do with frida and diego and mexico in the 20s-30s. el zorro was set in the spanish california of the early 19th century. their use of the original theme song makes me think they just wanted to flex their disney privileges tbh

lets not talk about that that whole scene was bad

anyway diego announces he and frida are going to new york, without even asking her first. frida is obviously pissed.

“Don’t worry, as a woman, you’ll be treated with much more respect in America.”

so in new york, diego is having a bit of a business meeting with mr burns as one of the members of the rockefellers, who is commissioning him to draw a mural for the rockefeller center. its kinda funny how he refers to him and frida as socialists even though they were very much communists lmao its okay you can say it. ok so far, but then frida says ‘yes, we hate the capitalists! right now, a young socialist is being born who will take them down! mr. bernie sanders. i hope hes quick about it’ and that was a simple enough joke and couldve been left at that but then its immediately followed by this weird as fuck family guy-esque cutaway gag to bernie as a baby:

“Getting a cootie shot should not cost your lunch money. And if you don’t listen to me, listen to the Bernie Babies! What? Everybody’s got goons.” *larger babies start beating up this other baby* “I disavow that, and welcome it.”

this confused me so much that i had to ask one of my american friends to help me understand, but even she was like ‘uhhh yeah thats a weird joke,’ especially now that hes been out of the race for months (then again these episodes take almost a year to produce. i guess they couldnt be bothered to replace it with something more relevant.) whatever that was weird and confusing and unfunny moving on

frida is pretty irked that diego is going through with this deal. after all, it goes against everything they believe in. im not sure how the real frida felt about diego doing the mural, but she did feel a bit of rage during her visit to the united states, especially the obvious disparity between rich and poor. she hated having to interact with capitalists and found americans very boring. in this segment, frida seems to be acting more like the american communist party, which diego got kicked out of for accepting commissions from wealthy patrons. in any case, frida is pretty upset about this whole thing.

and finally we get the first and only kind of surreal frida moment. kinda. maybe. its more cartoonish than anything but im desperate ok

interesting how they felt like they had to add a “don’t smoke” in big letters after showing patty and selma flying away on their giant cigarettes. i wonder if this is something theyre making them do now? i remember hearing something about them toning down patty and selma’s smoking

diego comes home to frida, drunk as hell, followed by the marx brothers. i cant believe they didnt make a marxism joke come on it was RIGHT THERE. THE MARX BROTHERS. KARL MARX. COME ON

frida paints her feelings.

this makes diego realize that frida is a genius and he is not half the artist she is. he proclaims he will now show his awe of her by sleeping with other women, starting “an hour ago.” to which frida replies, “and i will start sleeping with other women, starting two hours ago.” yes this was pretty much their relationship. though im just wondering how the hell did diego not know frida was this kind of artist until now? i know homers an idiot but jeez. art was how frida and diego met, diego knew from the get-go that frida was an incredible artist. i guess the fame got to his head or something. again, homer just being stupid.

“well enough already, while the art is still deco, okay?”

its time for the mural diego painted, Man At The Crossroads, to be unveiled:

rockefeller examines it. good and great so far, and then...uh oh

“Who’s that fellow…? With the beard, and the bolshevik smile…” “That’s the founder of Soviet Russia, Lenin!”

“B-b-but he’s a communist!” “Oh he just attended a couple of meetings.”

rockefeller will not have this communist in the temple to capitalism that is the rockefeller center, so he orders diego to paint over it. diego stands his ground and refuses. despite rockefeller’s threats, diego says that theres only one person he wants to be proud of him no matter what and in true homer & marge fashion, frida is touched by this. they happily leave the rockefeller center.

now, the real story of Man At The Crossroads and the rockefeller center was actually not that different. as soon as the rockefellers found out diego had snuck in a portrait of lenin into the mural, they ordered him to paint over it, to which he refused. diego even offered to include abraham lincoln and even american abolitionists in the mural as a compromise, but the rockefellers simply did not want any references to communism whatsoever. they did not complain about the hammer and sickle, though. yes, they did know diego was a communist and hired him anyway. what did they expect? lmao. diego said:

"Rather than mutilate the conception [of the mural], I shall prefer the physical destruction of the conception in its entirety, but preserving, at least, its integrity."

so they decided to destroy the mural before it was even finished and they never talked to each other again.

diego then repainted the mural at the palacio de bellas artes back in mexico, this time known as Man, Controller of the Universe. this new version included even more communist leaders and a depiction of john d. rockefeller jr. drinking at a nightclub, right underneath a depiction of syphilis bacteria. cue nelson haw-haw:

this was the version they used in the episode also, since the original was, well, never finished and also destroyed. only a black and white photograph of it exists, taken by diego before it was destroyed so he could remake it.

right so, homer!diego then pulls a Barthood and finishes the episode with a large mural summarizing the entire episode. he says some rick and morty thing i didnt get because i dont watch the show idk idc

the end

ALRIGHT NOW ITS TIME FOR THE STORY OF VINCENT VAN MOE

[mattygraygubler]

our campus: chapter 4 (tom holland fanfic)

summary: frat!tom and reader go to the same college and y/n is tasked with being his tutor, they don’t really get along at first (because i love reader and tom hating each other trope)

warnings: none ?????

word count: 2.1k

a/n: so many texts and so much dialogue fuckin kill me also texts are bold

for a list of characters click here

to be added to the tag list send me an ask !

masterlist

✰✰✰✰✰

“I don’t know what you did to get her to give you a second chance, but I need to warn you.” Ally said. Tom turned to look at her, they had only ever spoken when necessary for theater stuff. 

“Warn me?” He asked. 

“Y/N can make your life either very, very good or very, very bad. She has most of the professors in this school wrapped around her pinky. And she doesn’t make it obvious, but she’s the smartest person I’ve ever met. She can really help you if you let her.”

“Well, thanks.” He said awkwardly and turned back to his stuff. 

“One more thing.” Ally said. Tom turned again and raised his eyebrows. “Don’t you dare catch feelings.” “Seriously? No need to worry about that.” Ally scoffed. 

“I’m serious, Tom. Don’t. She doesn’t need that right now.” 

“Yeah, fine, I get it.” He said. 

“Alright guys let’s get started.” Gigi said, signaling rehearsal was about to start. 

* * * 

It was finally Friday, and your phone was blowing up as you walked to the library. Class had gotten out late, so you were walking as fast as possible so you wouldn’t be late to your meeting with Tom. 

Al

if Y/N is ok with it its fine with me

Iz

i still dont know how i feel about this

Em 

pretty pretty please guys i really like this guy and he really wants me to go

You

what are we talking about i was in class

Al

harrison invited em and all of us to the delt party tonight

Iz

and i said we shouldnt go bc of what happened

plus isnt tom a delt? wouldnt that be a bit awk?

You

honestly i couldnt care less. after the week ive had im gonna too blacked to even realize where we are

Em

lets take it to a vote

aye

Al

aye 

Iz

nay

You

im abstaining

Em

the ayes have it! delt BABEEEYYYY

ill have harrison put us all on the list

You 

glad we got that sorted ill see u guys at mine at 8

You walked into the library, checking your watch and seeing it was 4:02. You bit your lip. Hopefully he didn’t give you any crap for being late. 

You walked quickly into hlab, and you knew you looked like a crazy person. Your bag was falling off your shoulder, you had a coffee in your hand and your water bottle tucked under your arm, and your phone in your other hand. 

You scanned the room and saw Tom sitting across from Max, both of them had books out. 

“Hi,” you said breathlessly. Max slid over a seat so you could sit across from Tom. “So sorry I’m late, crazy day.” 

“No worries dar-” You heard him start to say darling, but stopped himself. “No worries. It’s only 2 minutes after.” 

“How long have you been waiting?” You asked.

“Max and I have been hanging out for a while, not a big deal.” 

“Speaking of, I’m on alc duty for tonight so I better go.” Max said, did his stupid handshake with Tom, and walked out. 

Hlab was almost empty except for some freshman. Most people don’t like studying on a Friday, who could blame them?

“So I got a copy of your lectures from this week. What do you want to start with?”

“I don’t care.” 

“Ok, what is currently confusing you the most?” He thought for a second before saying “Astronomy.” You nodded. 

“Great, grab your notes and your textbook.” He pulled out a notebook and his laptop, opening the online textbook. You pulled out your laptop and a pen and highlighter. 

“May I?” You asked and pulled his notebook to your side. You went through his notes, circling certain things with the pen and highlighting others. 

“These are really good, Tom. I like how you put question marks next to things that confused you.” He laughed. 

“Do I get a gold star?” He joked. You rolled your eyes. 

“So phases of the moon.” You started. 

“Wait a second,” he said after you had been talking for a while. “You’re telling me that the moon doesn’t actually, like, change?” 

“It’s all shadows.” You replied. He nodded and seemed to finally be getting it. 

“The phases will most definitely be on your next lab, which isn’t open note, so make sure you memorize them.” You said. “Let’s move onto stats.” He groaned. “What?” You asked. 

“Statistics is so stupid. Letters and numbers shouldn’t go together.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Stats is easy, I promise you. This is the first unit, all we’re doing is descriptive statistics and graphing. Let’s start with some vocab.” You said, highlighting certain words in his notes. 

Once you could see his brain was about to explode, you moved onto writing. 

“There’s not much to talk about, just email me your most recent paper so I can go through it and look for themes we need to discuss.” 

‘“Themes?” He asked. 

“You know, on going issues that need to be addressed.” He nodded and emailed you his paper, which you would read tomorrow. You heard your phone buzz and took a quick glance. 

Em

al dont be upset

Al

then dont give me a reason to get upset

what is it

Em

……….. It’s themed

Al

are you kidding? were not freshmen, i dont wanna go to a stupid themed frat party

Em

its blackout !!!! itll be fun i promise

You turned your phone back down and didn’t realize you had an upset look on your face. 

“Everything ok?” He asked. 

“Just arguing in the group chat.” 

“Do you need to go?” He asked. 

“No, no, just arguing about tonight.” 

“What’s tonight?” 

“Tonight is not related to political conflict, which is what we should be talking about.” He laughed. 

“Do you ever have fun?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I’m serious, do you ever have fun, or do you just go to sleep surrounded by planners and textbooks.” 

“That’s not funny. There’s a lot more about me that you don’t know.” 

“Clearly.” 

“So we’re starting off with socioeconomic issues over time and the class strugle. Did you read the Marx chapters?” 

“Yup. Didn’t understand a word of it.” 

“Ok, let’s get into it.” You said and began rambling about the bourgeoisie and the communist manifesto. Politics was your favorite subject, you could talk about it for hours. 

You were having a really good discussion with Tom. It was global political conflict, and he was able to connect the themes to both America and England, which made you really pleased. 

You were pulled out of your discussion when your phone vibrated. 

Iz

pickin up panera anyone want anything 

“Jeez it’s already past 6:30, I gotta go.” You said. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He said. 

“No it’s not your fault, I get so into politics I lose track of time.” “I can tell.” He said as you both packed up your stuff. 

“Wanna grab some food?” He asked. 

“Sorry, can’t,” you said. 

“Why, got a hot date?” He joked. 

“Maybe,” you said. 

“At least let me walk you to wherever you’re going.” 

“You don’t have to do that.” 

“Well where are you going?” 

“Congression Hall?” You replied. 

“Wait, you live there?” 

“Uhm, yes? Me along with practically every other junior.” 

“What floor?” 

“8.” You said. 

“Should’ve guessed.” He replied as you started walking across the quad. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Honors 8. I forgot you were in hc.” He was referring to the eighth and top floor of Congression Hall, which was reserved for the honors college juniors. 

“Yeah.” You said simply. 

“I’m on six, by the way.” He said. “That’s why I was curious. I’ve never seen you around there.” 

“I’m not usually, I only really use it for sleep.” 

“Of course,” he replied. 

“I assumed you lived in a frat house.” You commented. 

“Nah, next year.” He said with a wink. “Speaking of frat houses, there’s kind of this party going on at Delt tonight-” 

“I’m aware.” You said, cutting him off. 

“Ah, well, if you want I can get you on the list.” You smiled to yourself. 

“No need, I’m already on the list.” You said. 

“Oh?” He said, clearly embarrassed. “Because of delta nu?” 

“Nope.” You said, not offering any other information. 

“Well maybe I’ll see you there then.” 

“Even if you do see me there, I will be pretending I don’t know you.” 

“Why?” He asked, clearly offended. “I run that house.” He joked, trying to play off the embarrassment. 

“No offense, but your reputation would not be good for mine.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Well I have a certain reputation in the greek community, and if people see me with you they’ll get the wrong idea.” 

“The wrong idea?” He asked as you walked in the lobby of your building. 

“Well, see, the thing is,” you said, stepping into the elevator. He pressed the button for six and eight. “I have certain standards. If people see me with you, they’ll think I’ve…” 

“Wow, you are really uptight, aren’t you?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Certain standards? Jesus christ, you’re not the queen, Y/N. And I don’t have a bad reputation. But god forbid I don’t live up to your ‘standards.’” He said, storming off the elevator without another word, clearly upset. You sighed. Good job, Y/N. 

Tom got to his room and threw his stuff on the floor, collapsing on his bed. His head hurt from all the tutoring, and trying to focus on not staring at your lips. 

delt juniors

Tom

aight important question guys

Cal

whats up tommy

Tom

do you guys know a girl called Y/N Y/L/N? shes a delta nu

Joey

dan knows her ;)

Cal

fuck, Y/N? what are you doing with her? 

Tom

shes tutoring me stop buggin 

Max

i know her which u know shes in hc with me 

Liam

oh danny DEFINITLY knows her 

Will

who doesnt know Y/N? shes a hot commodity

Tom

what do you mean? 

Cal

shes like the perfect girl next door, totally hot and so smart which just makes her hotter

Will

doesnt help that shes a huge fuckin flirt AND can hold her alc

Joey

dan is being suspiciously quiet……..

Dan

shut up joe

Liam

care to share with tommy your story with Y/N, daniel? 

Dan

i hate u all 

fine

i was like in love with her freshman year

and i thought she was into me too

and we made out a couple of times but nothing else

the second she found out i was in delt she stopped talking to me

like complete radio silence 

Tom

wtf? Why? 

Cal

she doesnt fuck with delts

thats like common greek knowledge

Will

maybe its because shes gonna be dchi sweetheart? 

Joey

nah theres gotta be something else

Harrison

well i just put her on the list for tonite

Tom

wait YOU put her on the list?! 

Harrison

yeah i invited her friend Emily Gold and she doesnt go anywhere without Y/N and these two other girls

Cal

Ally Park and Isabelle Miller

Harrison

yeah howd u know? 

Cal

theyre like those cool girls from high school everyones obsessed with that are just out of everyones league

Tom

wow american high schools are so weird

Dan

tom if u wanna get with her i wont be pissed

Tom

nah like you said she hates delts, and after three tutoring sessions with me i guarentee i am her least favorite delt ever

Liam

theres no fuckin way she shows up tonight

she wouldnt be caught dead at a delt party

Noah

wait you said Y/N Y/L/N may come tonight????

DIBS

DIBS DIBS DIBS

I CALL DIBS

Cal

noah u seriously show up just to call dibs?

Noah

yeah bro have u seen her? if she comes tonight and any of you try to cockblock me i stg ill deck you

Dan

pretty sure tommy has rightful dibs to this one

Tom

nah fam she hates me so fuckin much

let noah try his luck

i doubt she’ll even show

Max

she’ll show. 

Tom

what makes u say that? 

Liam

max does know her best

Max

she and ally and emily and isabelle are ride or die. they circulate who picks what party they go to and if its emilys turn and harrison somehow conviced her to go, Y/N wont miss it

Dan

she hasnt set foot in a delt house since freshman year, you seriously think she’ll show? 

Max

five bucks says she does

Dan

youre on 

Noah

i just wanna make it clear

that if she does show

D I B S

[opalgelance]

thoughts on steven universe future

td;lr overall opinion: steven universe future is better than most of the original steven universe, especially seasons 3-5, but there are still some real iffy plotlines in future

i hate that the diamonds were redeemed but at the same time, the happy clouds blue and yellow putting gems back together scenes were so pure

it simultaneously warms my heart and infuriates me 

but we finally got a blue diamond song, god i love her voice

EDIT: also steven basically tortured white diamond and nearly killed her and it was pretty disturbing bc steven is 1. in a really bad mental state, like way darker than i thought they’d show him go, since this is technically a kids show and 2. was also kind of trying to hurt himself, which both hit me really hard bc i had similar periods of blazing anger, wanting to self harm and harm others that i felt had wronged me when i was a teenager, but its also what white deserves

ncsndlljklkcndkls i want to enjoy this show so bad but,,, steven having ptsd makes him a violent douche??? diamonds killed who knows how many gems in their reign and never really felt bad about it in original su but now they’re supportive life coaches??? no thank you

on more positive notes, i loved how priyanka described mental health and how she treated steven throughout the entire check up, she was so nonconfrontational and whenever he felt stressed she deescalated the situation,,, it was so good

the animation is the best its been since season 2. the poses are clean, very well drawn, and on model. there are more action scenes than like 90% of steven universe and they’re animated way better, like theres actual fighting and motion asjksacbcbj no one is stiffly posed, no one has strange proportions, no one is drastically changing sizes in between shots (well besides steven in growing pains onward but when he does change size its supposed to be like that lol)

i liked seeing the real roses but didnt love it? i wish we saw more of the roses designs up close, and i wish they fit a little more with the other quartzes? it might be just because its era 3, but the roses were all way more unique than jaspers and amethysts generally seem to be. i like that they were more unique designs and had different personalities, but surely the diamonds wouldnt have tolerated that back in era 1 or even era 2, had the rose quartzes not been bubbled? also i get that they’re reminiscent of pink bc she created them, but hippie and superfan were so naive, more so than other quartzes. if each quartz group was slightly different, it would make a little more sense tbh like if quartzes were the entire gem army, but each group was slightly different. i always liked the idea that rose quartzes were either the defense or the healers of the gem army.

little homeschool and guidance were fun and genuinely enjoyable, considering not a whole ton happens in them. i wish townie episodes had been more like them. like you could replace the gems with random humans, but it would still be a fun episode? idk, maybe involving the humans in gem stuff wouldve made better townie episodes, like lars and the cool kids. it wouldve probably helped steven feel more “human” too, if the human and gem worlds collided a bit more in the series.

bluebird was... an ok episode, but im not sure how well it will fit into what i feel like the end will be, where every episode of future featured someone steven helped or affected in some way, and they all come together to help steven when he corrupts. or rather, i guess if bluebird did say something, it would feel more hollow bc steven didnt help them lol the gems and universes were just friendly to them, and thats it. it wasnt as bad as a very special episode (my least favorite episode of future), but it felt like a townie episode with no townies LOL at least we got a new fusion i guess

a very special episode was just,,, infuriating. there was that weird football scene where they just like,,, talk about screen resolution for a minute then play the full commercial for little homeworld we just saw last episode???? i did genuinely enjoy the rainbow scenes, but it just built up to not nothing. oh no, it was something alright. the whole episode was just future vision and then theres like a minute long psa??? it felt like that wacky randomness that would have happened in like, ok ko, teen titans go, or clarence jaskjcbkcjbskb

mr universe is tied with dear old dad episode as my least favorite greg episode. i get how both of them feel. greg wanted to tell steven about how he escaped from his miserable childhood and remade who he was, no longer a demayo but a universe. the problem imo was that greg became way too absorbed in the past. it reminds me a bit of s1 pearl, how she’d proudly recount gem battles and basked in the glory of fighting for their freedom, but she struggled when she had to recount the more unsavory parts of war. and that really affected amethyst, since she didnt fight in the glorified war pearl told her and steven about. amethyst was the byproduct of one of the bad parts of the war, and that became part of her identity, until on the run, where pearl finally realized that she needed to tell amethyst that she wasnt bad. amethyst’s creation may have fractionally hurt the earth, but that wasnt her fault. it wasnt her fault that she emerged too late to fight either. and it wasnt her fault that she existed. sounds familiar to to stevens rant in the van. 

steven didnt ask to be made. he didnt ask to be the half gem half human son of a diamond. but he grew up being told about how great his mom was, and that while no one would ever say it, she was gone because of him. to create steven, rose had to die. it was roses decision, but as the product of that decision, steven feels responsible. not only that, but being told constantly about his amazing mother, steven felt like he had to live up to her, had to be like her, had to replace her in the gems and greg’s lives. throughout the series, steven is constantly either trying to be like his mother, until he realizes its ok to be himself. but then the question is posed; is steven even himself? or is he still part of rose? and once he finds out that he’s steven, and has always been steven, he’s still reeling from the realization that his mother was pink diamond. and that really shows in future, where steven is becoming like pink. at first he doesnt even know, because besides the jungle moon dream, him and the audience never knew about this side of pink. this angry, short tempered, diamond who lashes out mostly physically. and unlike before, no one’s telling steven about pink (besides pink pearl) hes finding out firsthand, and this pink mode is basically being forced on him by his gem. steven has little to no control over this form. hes not trying to live up to his mother, or wondering if he is her, like before. now, he’s losing control to whatever programming is in his gem.

but back to mr universe. in the van, greg is going on and on about how lucky steven is, and how free steven is, but how can either of them compare their lives to each other? the similarities just arent there. steven is right, greg and pink were “raised” in very similar “households”. both had their wishes and desires suppressed by controlling, abusive parents. we know pink was abused mentally, verbally and physically (being physically dragged away from the screen by yellow in jungle moon, stevonnie being grabbed and thrown into the time out cell by yellow, when she still thought steven was pink), but greg at the very least was mentally assaulted. but they diverge from here. as greg said, he thought disco was back. rose started a war. you cant compare them any further. 

but at the same time, steven was raised completely differently. he was raised in a home with love and freedom, but he was also not given the opportunity to be a normal kid. theres a difference being forcing your kid to do something and not giving them the chance to try something. steven was never given the option to go to school (well in the comics he was but i guess thats not canon now since it seems like steven wishes he went to school?) he was never given the option to live in a house, or go to the mall with friends. the only other kids he knew were the boardwalk kids, but even then, he doesnt seem very close with them. for such an outgoing, friendly kid, steven wasnt given many opportunities to make friends. steven’s upbringing was very relaxed, yes, but it was too relaxed. he needed more structure, and more importantly, more humanity. i always thought it was weird, how little steven seems to have interacted with humans before connie, considering that his mother so desperately wanted steven to experience being human. yes the show is about gems, (and yes, i dont like most townie episodes), but steven was never shown doing a lot of “human” kid things inbetween episodes. the episode never started with him coming home from a friends house, he hardly ever spent time with friends other than connie in little scenes. like he was never called for a mission while playing cards with peedee, or coming home after an after school activity. any scenes like that were either just steven by himself, or with greg, and occasionally connie. but connie is a new addition to his life. how many years has he been doing fun stuff with only his dad for company, or by himself? yknow, “non traditional” childhoods and living situations are becoming more and more common in media, rather than the “two parents in a suburb house” thing, but steven’s life is beyond any unusual childhood any other kid would have. i mean he’s never even been to the doctor! which is probably for several reasons, like the fact that he apparently doesnt have a ssn, he can heal himself, has a damn gemstone in his stomach, and is half alien. but still, thats not something he has in common with other kids. no matter how much love and freedom he was given, steven was raised as an outcast.

i agree with the notion that both greg and steven were both right and wrong in mr universe. i guess they both have that in common with rose lol 

greg should have read the room better, realized that his pep talk wasnt the support and apology steven needed to hear. but steven shouldnt have acted out in the way he did. i get that’s the “theme” of steven’s spiral, maybe for the younger audience to better understand how steven is acting? but crashing his dad’s van that gregs been living in for like 20 years? fucking SHATTERING jasper? that’s going way too far to prove a point. it would have been better to maybe mirror story for steven, where marty and greg are arguing, marty is watching the road and they narrowly avoid hitting a car. but crashing the car could have been pretty serious, especially for greg. now jasper, that episode shouldnt have been approved. steven should not have shattered jasper. he fucking killed her. rose/pink didnt even shatter anyone. and if it wasnt for steven getting another superpower out of nowhere, jasper would have stayed that way. he should have just cracked her gem, poofing her in the process. the rest of the episode wouldve played out exactly the same.

anyways ive been writing this for like 2 hours but i feel better letting it all out. if you enjoy future keep enjoying it! it’s definitely more like a B+ compared to season 3-5′s general C-/D+. but please take into consideration future has some themes that people personally relate to, like mental health, and that you shouldnt shit on someone elses opinions that are based on their own personal experiences. especially if you dont have mental health issues, dont keep pushing your opinion and telling people that personally relate to future’s themes that they’re wrong? thats fucked up man

[dragonwitch77]

Shadow Girl (Prologue)

Once upon a time in a distant land far away, there was once a small kingdom. It was ruled by a benevolent king and his kindhearted queen. Under their rule and guidance, the kingdom prospered—

That means that the kingdom was doing well. And benevolent means well-meaning and kind.

The kingdom prospered under the king and queen. The years would go by and the small kingdom thrived. Everything seemed to be at peace in the small kingdom. But all was not well as everyone had hoped.

Outside of the kingdom, war raged as different nations—

Well they’re kinda like a kingdom but bigger and have a united history or common ground. Now as I was saying.

War raged between the different nations, fighting with each other with—

I don’t know what they were fighting about back then kiddo. People will fight with anyone if they feel like it. Now are you going to listen to my story or not?

The nations fought with each other, each side coating the ground with blood of their enemies and many innocents that were caught in the crossfires. With so many losses on all sides, the nations so realized that if one of them didn’t get any backup soon, then all would be lost. But no one wanted to side with anyone. They were all enemies! All except for one small kingdom.

The nations pleaded with the king and queen, offering gold, food, trade, knowledge from the furthest corners of the planet just so the small kingdom would side with one of them and turn the tide against the war. But, they would not budge. While they wanted to help, their people came first. War would not help the small kingdom. It would only bring destruction and death in its wake.

Not wanting to risk spreading the war to their kingdom, the king and queen rejected all offers and turned down all the requests to join the war. But this turned out to be a bad mistake. A terrible one.

The nations, angered by the king and queen’s refusal to fight, turned on the small kingdom.

They figured that since they refused to fight with them, they didn’t deserve to live in peace.

Lives were lost, villages were destroyed, and it continued to get worse as time went on.

The king, filled with grief on the turn of events on his once peaceful kingdom, begged for mercy from the nations. All his pleads fell on deaf ears and—

No I didn’t mean they couldn’t hear him kid. They just ignored him and didn’t care about how he felt. Yes they were big meanies and poopyheads, but war will do that to you sometimes.

His pleads fell on deaf ears and the nations continued to attack his kingdom. All hope seemed lost as the war went on, until one night the king received a visitor. The visitor was a curiously strange fellow to the king and spoke in a tongue that both seemed foreign and familiar to him. The visitor greeted the king like an old friend, showing compassion and condolence for the king in his current predicament he and his kingdom where in.

The visitor told the king that they were but a kind traveler who had wandered for many years and know of many things many did not. They told the king of stones that reached the stars, a sea made of sand, and a place where snow never ceased falling from the sky where the lights danced with colors. Fascinated by the visitor’s stories, the king asked if they could possibly know how to stop the nations from attacking his people.

To his delight, the visitor did. But not only did he know how to stop the war on his kingdom, they knew how to stop the war altogether! The king only needed to do four important tasks to end the war. The first was to find the strongest tree found in the sea of sand. The second was a gem found in the deepest caves of the rocks that touched the stars high above. The third was a carving knife that could cut and shape anything the wielder wanted. And the final was light of a full blue moon.

At once the king sent out his best men to track down the items required to stop the war, and in two months his men returned with the three items. Handing them to the visitor, the king and him men watched in awe and wonder as the visitor started to cut the strongest tree with the knife, cutting into it like in was nothing more than air. The visitor carved and shaped the wood down till it was a small wooden block the size of a humans head. He then asked the king to step forward, and with the knife carved the block, shaping it smaller and smaller till it was only a small piece of its old form.

Taking the wood and placing it near the king’s face, the visitor once again started carving with careful steady hands, stopping multiple times to place the block of wood against his face for making it into a perfect fit. Finally, the visitor finished his work.

The wood that was used from the strongest tree had been made into a mask! Made to fit the king’s face and his alone.

With the carving done, the visitor took the gem and gave the king very strict instructions.

“My king. With this mask it will grant your deepest wish and stop this war. But I must warn you. Only the light of the blue moon must this mask be bathed in and not by any other light of the moon. For if that were to happen, a dark force will be upon your kingdom far darker than what this war has caused.”

With his final words of wisdom, the visitor placed the gem on the mask, and right before everyone’s eyes the mask transformed into the most elegant mask anyone had laid eyes on. Handing the mask over, the visitor left without saying goodbye and vanished.

The king, mindful to what the visitor had told him, kept the mask hidden, waiting for the night of the blue moon to come. During his waiting the queen gave birth to their son—

Oh! Um! It’s uh-how to explain this to a two year old, uh, it’s-it’s-i-i-it’s when you come into existence and uh there’s the birds and the bees and-I-I’lllll tell you when you’re older alright? Can we just get back to the story? Please?

During his waiting, his son was born, and for the first time since the nations attacked, the king was overwhelmed with great joy. So much that he spent every moment with his new son.

Too much.

The king spent so much time with the boy, he completely forgot about the mask and the moon.

Once he realized this, it was too late. The blue moon had passed and the mask had not gotten even a single ray of its light. To make it even worse, the king’s spy told him of an upcoming attack that would surely kill them all.

The king fell into despair but suddenly remembered of the soon coming blood moon. The queen and his men begged him not to go through with the plan, fearing the warning the visitor gave and dreaded to even think what would fall upon them if the king went through with it. The queen even went far to hide the mask, but king found it and promised his dear wife that he would fix everything.

On the night of the blood moon, the nations were marching in for the final attack, ready to kill off what was left of the kingdom and its people. But before anyone could attack, the king came out on his best horse in his best regal clothes and the mask adorned on his face. He rode out to the edge of the kingdom, riding tall and proud.

The nations thought the king was surrendering, and laughed thinking how foolish it would be to stop them now. But they wouldn’t be laughing soon.

In the light of the blood moon, the mask started radiating with dark power that grew under the moon. The more the moon’s light shone down on it, the more the darkness grew until the kingdom and the nations could feel its power radiating. With a raised fist and an angry yell, the earth shook, startling everyone and terrifying many to flee for their lives. The ground cracked, splitting open and spreading apart like never before seen by the eyes of many.

Farther and farther apart the ground went away, shoving land away from itself to far corners of the world. But even when the last of the nations lands were gone, the ground still shook and the king was still yelling.

Fearing for her subjects lives, the queen ran out to him with the craving knife in hand. Her quickly formed plan was to break the mask, fearing what evil that now lurked there had taken control of her king. But to her despair, she could not reach her king on tumbling ground.

With a heavy heart, she called out to him and threw the knife at his face.

To her dread, the knife hit the mask. And her king.

With the mask now split, its evil was stopped, and the king was dead.

Heart broken, the queen ordered two of her men to take the two halves and hide them away so no one would find them. She never wanted the mask to fall into the wrong hands or see the grim reminder of what she had done.

Over the years everyone soon forgot about the mask and lived peacefully in their new kingdom that grew inside of a forest. The end.

“Wad bout the qween?”

He blinked, peering down at the two eyes staring back at him. “What?”

“The qween? Wad happened to hew?” The child asked again, sucking on her thumb.

“Hey, hey! What did I tell you about sucking your thumb kid?” He growled, pulling her thumb out of her mouth. “And well, not much to tell you about the queen kiddo. No one really paid her too much mind after what happened. I guess they wanted to give her some space to… help with what happened with the king.” Help in the form of grieving and dying of that grief years later, but he wasn’t going to let her know that. “Anyway, it’s bedtime kiddo! Off to bed with you!”

“Nooooo! No Bed Snawer!” She whined as she was scooped up and carried over to her plush bed.

“Snatcher kid. You’re getting close, but not quite there.” Snatcher ruffled her hair, taking pleasure in her whining as he tucked her in.

“But I’m not sweepy!” The child whined, though her argument was very weak as she let out a loud yawn.

“Oh yeah. VERY convincing kiddo.” Snatcher rolled his eyes, tucking the blanket around her carefully. “Come on. We agreed that we would have one more story then you’d go to bed.”

“But.” The girl tried to struggle to stay awake, but the comfy bed and Snatcher placing her Mr. Floppy Ears in her arms was making her tired. She snuggled her toy, looking at Snatcher with a pleading drowsy look. “One mowe? Pwease?”

Snatcher hummed, rubbing his head before sighing. “Alright alright. ONE more story. But you go right to sleep when it’s over kid!”

She nodded, snuggling deeper into her covers.

“Ahem. Once, long ago, there was a man and a woman. They were deeply in love with one another.” Snatcher gazed at the young girl, seeing her eyes drooping. She was already falling asleep, but he didn’t mind. He never finished this story with her. “Every day they spent their time together, loving and cuddling, talking about their dreams for the future.” Her breathing evened out as he went on, talking more to himself then to his sleeping audience. “But one day a fight broke out between them, and the man and woman changed. Forever.”

[tvshowturtle]

Hi :) I would like to request a bellamy image: Bellamy & the reader are rly close & then reader takes all her courage & kisses bellamy & confesses her feelings for him but he is rly rude & rejects her (although he feels the same). she runs off but later bell finds out that she isnt back & it is late in the evening so he goes to search for her & blames himself. He finds her & she is crying & he apologzies & tells her that he just wanted to protect her bc he thinks he doesnt deserve her. Thanks!❤

Fandom: The 100

Pairing: Bellamy/you

Warning: Fluff

Words: 1 596

Thank you so much for the request! It was long and I’m really sorry for this, but I hope you’ll like it!

You knew that its wasnt right. You were good friends, wonderful leaders who helped the hungred to survive, excellent partners that covered each others back. Probably, you would be for each other like a brother and sister, If not for one detail. You loved this damn guy. You loved Bellamy Blake.

It happened quite unexpectedly. 

Landing on Earth, you didnt notice him. Well, to be more precise, you just didnt pay attention to him. Of course, it was impossible not to notice him, he was trying too much to be a leader. Surprisingly, he managed to do it. Just a couple of hours later he had a team, thanks to which he became the comander in your camp. Of course, you didnt like it. No, you didnt want to take his place, but the fact that he could so easily seize power didnt give you rest.

You wasnt a conflict or an aggressive person, but this guy managed to constantly make you mad! Take at least his idea: take off the bracelet and get food. You did not know any more stupid idea, so you refused to pay for food and took your dinner for free. Probably, thanks to this bold and stupid act you became the second leader. In the eyes of the guys, you were fearless, although you were frightened at the moment to hell. It isnt known how Bellamy could take revenge on you. But he didnt. Maybe he was afraid to lose his reputation by pacifying you. or maybe he just pitied you. 

Anyway, after this incident, there were two leaders in the camp who hated each other.

At first, every evening you complained to your new friend about how hard it was for you to spend at least 5 minutes with Bellamy. You insulted him, cursed him and dreamed that he would disappear. You were sure it was mutual.But slowly all your hatred went away, and in its place came some respect and even regret. You recognized Bellamy better, understood the meaning of his actions. It was the same with him. The angry and sarcastic guy began to show more attentiveness to you. He began to listen to you. And for you it meant a lot. Together you made a team of unfamiliar teenagers, almost a family. 

You were close, but for you too much.

Once waking up and meeting with Bellamy, you realized that something was wrong. At first you decided that it was his fault. He seemed to look different, spoke differently. He was different. But time passed, and no one except you noticed this. And then it dawned on you. You were in love with your friend.

You were not as brave as everyone thought you were. You couldnt just go to the guy and tell him about your feelings. At least it was on the ark. But everything must change, doesnt it? Perhaps, on Earth, you could begin a new life. Without fears.

With these thoughts, you woke up in the morning. You had to tell him. You were nervous all morning. A couple of people seeing you changed their directions, and some looked strange. But you didnt care. You were determined to tell him. It was amazing, but fate didnt want you to talk to him. The whole day someone was with him or he was in a hurry somewhere, which made it difficult for you to be alone. But in the evening you saw him Not hoping to talk to him, you went into the tent, where all the surviving equipment was stored and faced Bellamy. 

“Hey, Y/n! I didnt see you today. How are you?” and, seeing your alarmed expression asked. “Are you okay? Whats wrong?”

You werent ready to meet. You forgot the prepared replicas that you’d been repeating all day. Everything flew from the head, and his eyes hypnotized. Without realizing it, you did the first thing that came to your mind. 

Yes. You kissed him. 

Carefully standing on your toes, you approached his face and touched his lips with yours. From fear, you closed your eyes, afraid to move. Surprisingly Bellamy didnt move too. You waited his reaction, but there was nothing. He just stood like a tree: he didnt push you away, but he didnt kiss you either. Frowning, you carefully moved away from the guy and looked into his eyes.

“Surprise …” you said softly, trying to smile. “Judging from your face, you didnt expect this, but I just couldnt sit and be silent. I decided to become as brave as you think I am. I just wanted to say that I think, I love you. Probably I shouldnt kiss you, but I forgot all the words, when I saw you and … ”

Bellamy didnt let you finish your speech, roughly interrupted you.

“Y/n, listen. Your feelings arent mutual. I dont love you. Remember this, okay? Find somebody else for your own good.”  After this words he went outside, leaving you alone.You felt yourself like somebody hit you in the stomach. You didn’t have air to breathe and you didn’t want to do it. The only thing you could do was crying. So you did it. You went outside and then very quickly went to the forest. Some people said your name, but you didn’t hear them. You just run as far as you could. Your legs didn’t obey, and tears flowed from the eyes, so you didn’t see anything.

Eventually you fell down on the nearest stone. The forces left you and you leaned against the tree, just put your head on your hands and continued crying.

                                                             ***

Bellamy felt himself terrible. He knew he was cruel, pushing you away, but he couldnt do otherwise. Of course, he liked you. He understood this even earlier than you. He just realized that without you he wouldnt live. Your smile, your eyes made him rejoice with you, protect you and try to make you happy, even if it means that you will be just friends. Bellamy thought from the beginning that he didnt deserve you. He thought you were too good for him. You were his complete opposite. You’ve never been selfish, always thought of others, never thought of yourself. That’s why he did it for you.

It was getting dark. Bellamy once again went around places where you could be. He wanted to apologize for being rude, told that you can be friends, but he couldnt find you anywhere. It was already quite dark outside, the stars appeared in the sky, the guys lit a fire. Bellamy hoped to find you by the fire, sitting in a circle of friends, but coming up didnt find you.

“Where is Y/n?” He asked Octavia, talking to Finn.

“I dont know, the last time I saw her was during the breakfast, she was kind of nervous, do you know why?”

“I … uh … no, I dont know.” the guy stuttered.

“I saw Y/n,” said Jasper, that just came to fire with a cup of something strange. “She went into the forest a couple of hours ago. I wanted to stop her, but she didnt even turn around when I called her in. I was sure she came back.”

“Damn” swore Bellamy.

 So, you had not return. Bellamy knew, if something happened to you, he couldnt forgive himself, he couldnt live with it. Leaping up, Bellamy checked his gun, which he always wore at his waist, and without telling a word to anyone, went out of the territory. He didnt know where you went, but he didnt care. He had to find you. He had to find you alive.

                                                         ***

You looked around. The sun had set and the moon had appeared in the sky. Realizing that it’s time to return to the camp, you already wanted to get up and go back, when suddenly realized that you do not know where to go. After talking with Bellamy, you were so upset that you ran without looking at your feet and not remembering the route. And now you stood in the middle of a thick forest and didnt know where the house was. Now you were really scared. What if you wouldnt find your way back? What if the enemies would find you? You did not even take any weapons with you. Shivering, you started walking, not even knowing if it was the right way, when suddenly you heard someone’s steps. In a panic, you were ready to run away, but then you saw behind the trees a familiar figure approaching you. The guy also saw you and stopped. For a few seconds you just looked into each other’s eyes, after which Bellamy literally ran up to you and did not let you say anything. He just tightly hugged you.

You couldnt believe that he really came for you. Carefully moving away, you looked Bellamy in the eye and said softly:

“I … I do not understand, You dont need me. Why did you come for me? ”

Bellamy didnt answer. Instead, he cautiously approached you and gently ruffled his lips with your own. It lasted only a couple of seconds, after which he cautiously pulled away from you.

“I was such an idiot.” he said. “I thought that if I pushed you away, I could protect you. Y/n, I love you. Forgive me if you can, please.”

Not believing that this is really happening, you just hugged the guy even harder, pressing your head to his chest.

“You’re such an idiot.” you said. “But I love you so much.”

[zaptap]

ok i guess its probably time to make a new Future Pokemon Games Theories™ post (contains sm spoilers)

first of all, z: i think they were planning on making it and releasing it in early 2016, but right before they would have announced it (november 2015) there was that terrorist attack in paris and it’s very likely they were like hmmmm maybe we shouldnt immediately announce a game where a terrorist tries to blow up pokefrance. and i believe sun and moon was still planned for late 2016 (there is precedent for 2 games in one year, japan got frlg and emerald in 2004), so it’s not like they could have delayed z a little because itd cut into the prerelease time for sm. if you remember, there was kind of a delay between sm’s announcement and any further news we got, so that could be the reason why

of course at the point the paris bombing happened they had already announced zygarde’s new forms and xy&z had started so it’s not like they could have cancelled that much, so instead we were left with a series and a theme song that generates so much hype for a game that unfortunately was unable to be released, at least at the intended time (im just speaking from my experience on the hype part, like if it werent for xy&z i wouldnt have been too upset at not having a z game)

anyway i believe z exists but now it’s like under masuda’s bed or something because they dont know what to do with it

as for what’s next, i still believe they’re coming out with a kanto remake, even more so after i finished playing moon. i had previously pointed out that having a large amount of alola forms of kanto pokemon could point to a kanto remake, and now that we know that there were only kanto pokemon given alola variants that makes it seem even more likely

secondly, lillie leaving for kanto at the end of the game is another thing that stuck out to me as a hint they were going to do a kanto remake. i was initially thinking you’d get to see lillie in that remake, but then i realized it doesn’t match up with the timeline because you could be playing as red who was already shown to be grown up and long past his kanto adventure before lillie even went there. so itd either have to be some time travel thing or you’d have to play as a different character... ash maybe? could be a yellow remake. of course ash is already implied to be already off on his journey since he sends you his greninja, but thats not necessarily going to impact the timeline the same way as red literally being in sun/moon

idk what to think of the stars rumor. having a generation’s main series games be on multiple handheld console generations is unprecedented, but that doesnt mean they cant ever do it, especially since if they were to switch that tradition, now would be the time. and if they do, that means sinnoh remakes wouldnt necessarily have to be in gen viii (since they do have to be on the switch--as ive said repeatedly putting it on the 3ds would mean itd be only one handheld generation ahead of the original which wouldnt be as impressive a remake)

game freak has never jumped on the new handhelds and released main pokemon games on them right away, but that could be something nintendo is trying to change since it was probably xy that saved the 3ds and they dont want the switch to struggle for a while until theres a new pokemon game for it (not that itll struggle, theyre just pulling all the stops on it it seems)

i still kind of hope the third version will be z, regardless of which platform it’s on. zygarde’s presence in alola was never really explained, much like many of the third version mascots are in the first two games, and being a ground type legendary it could easily form a trio with solgaleo and lunala (albeit a somewhat unconventional one, but hey, suicune didn’t exactly fit with ho-oh and lugia), being the “earth” to their sun and moon. however, necrozma has a good chance of being the third version mascot as well, since it shares certain traits with solgaleo and lunala (battle theme, similarity to ultra beasts, being based on something from space) and was also kind of thrown in there with no explanation

could they possibly do sequels again? or at least a paired third version? maybe. could be a zygarde game and a necrozma game as a pair, but i admit that idea’s kind of out there

seems unlikely to me that the switch presentation will include a reveal of “stars” or whatever theyre making next. third versions and remakes get a 3-5 month period between announcement and release and we just barely got sun and moon so thatd be too early probably. i mean it could happen, but if it does i wouldnt expect much apart from “game freak is making this game for switch”

[samanthasroberts]

Getting Sober: Redefining My Longest Relationship

Id call it time traveling. Most of the time I didnt know I was doing it until I was already in too deep. It didnt matter the day of the week or the time, or who I was with. I was just as capable of bending time alone, as I was with a handful of friends.

There was no such thing as one or two or three drinks. Just like a two headed giraffe didnt exist, neither did grabbing a couple of drinks. Its that simple. I really cant explain it any other way. My average was a drink every fifteen minutes. I never thought about that. I didnt brag about it or work towards it or talk about it, my rhythm just happened. The drink was in my hand and I drank it. I didnt think of slowing down or having an empty hand.

Id start somewhere- at an apartment or at dinner or a happy hour or on a date and Id arm myself with whatever I was in the mood for. There were the regular players: Jack Daniels and diet coke, chardonnay, Redbull and vodka, Blue Moon and those few years in my early 20s where I thought the only two drinks on the planet was a Sex On The Beach and Cosmo. Drink menus were for amateurs.

Never red wine though. It stained my teeth and lips, Id explain when asked, and respond with my quirky I only drink it alone and in the dark answer. Theyd always laugh.

For a long time the only shot I tossed back was Patron XO. Lemon drops and Kamikazes were too collegiate for me. I was smart enough to know that I always got sick after Whiskey. That was my kryptonite. It didnt stop me from drinking it again (and again), just in case getting sick was a one time thing. Spoiler alert: it wasnt.

So that was me, always, from the first time I got drunk during a party at 16 years old to my four day New Years Eve bender at age 30. But lets not call it a bender, or else my parents will worry. It was celebrating a new year with friends. It was a vacation and a belated birthday. It was me letting present, in the moment Diana take the wheel for a few days.

By the time YOLO was on T-shirts I had carpe diem booze down to a science.

It was all so normal and always OK: competing with friends how many guys we can make out with in one night (one of my favorite games), bouncing around speakeasys in the East Village, sneaking into the high end member only clubs in the Meatpacking District, 4am pancakes at a diner then going home with the cutest guy there, leaving without paying your tab, putting your drinks on a strangers tab, hooking up with your friends crush, sleeping with a guy who has a girlfriend (what, he had an accent, ok?), telling work you have a doctors appointment when you need an extra hour of sleep, telling work youre sick when youre too hungover to get out of bed, napping in the bathroom stall at work when you realize you went to work still drunk.

Theres wasnt a problem with any of this. I could go to six bars in a night and only remember two of them (seetime traveling). Others had different, less poetic names for it- like graying out or even more ominous, going black out. But lets not talk about that. Those words are scary.

It all just made so much sense to me. I had a desperate thirst for life, for new experiences and stories that were only mine and drinking was my very own special key to open that door. I dont remember being trained but I knew this truth: that I needed to drink- to have fun, to meet a guy, to de-stress, to celebrate, after a bad day, after a good day, when its more than 50 degrees out, when its under 15 degrees, because its Monday.

Its dramatic sounding, I know, but when I was drinking, like really in the middle of a good run, I was untouchable. My thoughts evened out and worries were left at the coat check. I was charming and funny. I was weightless and sexy. Nothing could ground me.

I wasnt stupid. I knew what was happening. There wasnt a river in Egypt. The biggest part was the after, when Morning Diana gradually and reluctantly pixelated back into place ready to droop down into the exorcist-like hangover.

When I was in college my hangover cure was strawberries and chocolate milk. After I received my diploma I graduated to well-done bacon, coffee, Mimosas. Water never entered the equation.

Sometime in my mid-twenties while I was gripping on to my spinning couch, I googled hangover and depression and was so relieved when I read the phrase emotional hangover. I immediately felt better seeing the feeling I felt printed on my screen. It was a relief: I wasnt alone in this feeling and it had a name. Urban Dictionary knows about it so it must be OK. Ill finish my bacon and chocolate milkshake and be just ducky.

The recovery time was always different- sometimes I could slide out of bed and be partially human the next day and other times I needed a day alone to stew in a mental playback of the night before. During those days the biggest challenge was the trek from my bedroom to couch. No matter how I recouped I never thought it was bad. I thought my friends were doing it too.

Country songs and Van Wilder confirmed for me that getting drunk and hangovers were a part of life. I never raised my hand to question it. So, about the men. I bet you thought it was hard to find a man with all this time zig zagging and space jumping but it wasnt. Lets go back ten years again and Ill tell you about all the threesomes I had. It was me, the guy, and alcohol.

It was how I flirted, played, connected, and bonded with men, always. If the boyfriend had a bad day wed start downing drinks in the hopes that hed open up and talk to me. To flirt with the new cute coworker Id suggest we play beer after work. Hed find it charming and cute and wed drunkenly made out in the corner of the bar after swapping 1st pet names and office gossip. I had a fling with a British banker off and on for 3 years and when wed meet late night hed pour us shots of tequila first. It was our thing. Our inside joke with Don Julio.We didnt know each others last names but we shared an appreciation for top shelf tequila at 3am before having sex. Im a romantic, I know.

My favorite three words when I was with a guy were Want another round?

During each encounter, each date, I wouldnt feel satisfied until I heard those words. He could shout it or whisper it in my ear, either way I wanted those words. It meant: he liked me, hes having a good time, and he wanted to keep spending time with me. He didnt want the night to end. It meant intimacy, it meant hand holding and flirty eyes and of course, sex.

I could count the number of times I had sober sex on one hand. I didnt enjoy it. To avoid it, Id explain that I simply didnt like morning sex. Most of the time Id be too hungover to move from a fetal position so it wasnt pursued for long on his end anyway. Hooking up drunk was sexy and fun. We could let our inhibitions go and really connect. Fun was had by all. I wasnt worried about any of it.

Theres unfortunately worse parts. Im not going to tell them to you though. Mostly because my mother may read this. But also because I was once told that you dont need to go all the way to the bottom floor in order to get off the elevator. So lets baby step off the lift, shall we?

I was in one of my first sessions with my new therapist when she told me I repeated the word untouchable a lot and made me explain why I thought that was a good word. (See all of the above for my response). Valentines Day was two weeks away and I was mentally preparing to be single again during my least favorite holiday of the year.

I wasnt too worried though because Id participate in my friends annual BOVD- Black Out Valentines Day. The year before included colorful fish bowls and sushi till 2am. Problem solved. I was talking but realizing more and more how much she looked like Lily Tomlin when she put a piece paper down in front of me. It was a wordy contract with bullet points in the middle and a blank line next to my name at the bottom.

I was supposed to go a week without drinking. Thats a lie. I could drink. But only three glasses of beer or wine, two different nights. If I broke the contract I had to give $100 to her. Lily was crazy. How was this legal? I couldnt do this. Fact. I shouldnt have even been there. I wanted to deal with this but apparently not by actually dealing with it. I argued with her and left the session with the unsigned document squished to the bottom of my purse. That night I didnt sleep and express ordered Alan Carrs Easy Way to Control Alcohol. Problem solved. I went out drinking all week. And I drank like no one was watching.

Then I signed the contract. And then when week one ended, I signed the next contract. Was it easy? Fuck no. Did I have to write some checks to my therapist? Yes. Did I cry? Did I rant? Did my hands and mind twitch and turn during dinners with friends as I stared at my 1 drink for the night? Hell to the yes. Most nights all I could think about was my hand stammering under the table and how much I wanted and needed another drink.

I thought of the contract and Lilys annoying face staring down at me. I thought of how I felt when I was hungover. I thought of the fuzzy nights. I thought of the fuzzy years. I cried a lot. I stayed in and watched Netflix even more. I watched Vampire Diaries starting at season 1, many times. In therapy I compared my drunk self to being a vampire with no soul. There are many different points of view on vampire rule and regulations but most of them agree that the creatures of the night have no soul. Stick with me here. In Vampire Diaries the rule of thumb is that vampires can turn this soul switch off and on. When its on they feel everything, when its off they feel nothing and become untouchable. Follow me now? The easy way to live is to keep the switch off. I did that, over and over again. I was tired of it and wanted to be in the world of the living again. I didnt decide this overnight. It took months, a lot more episodes of Vampire Diaries and most of 2015. Something weird happened around the same time I switched to watching new episodes of Arrow that wouldve really pissed off my 23 year old Cosmo drinking self- I stopped enjoying drinking.

By November I was completely sober and joined a boxing ring. I could get up in the morning and exercise. I didnt need to sign a contract anymore. I sober dated. I sober celebrated friends birthdays. I sober had a fun Thursday night. I went to AA meetings sometimes and spent most of the meeting listening and nodding my head. I was funny and smart and friendly during the day and I was funny and smart and friendly at night. I added to my own life and stopped letting drinking take away from it. I started a social group. I started a book club. I started.

Sometime between the last crippling snow storm of last year and planning my 31st birthday, I stopped wanting to go to Edit Undo. I re-entered my own life. I went through those years and theyre a part of me for worse or worser. I went through it before knowing there was another side. I hit my rock bottoms (yes, there was more than one). Im still learning how to talk about it- what I want to say about it and to who. But the further I get from the person I was then, the more I like who Im turning into now. But letting go of her seemed like an impossible ask that the tiny tired voice deep inside me was begging for.

If I stopped drinking Id lose all of me, not just a part. I was terrified as if I was going to lose a limb or my hearing. My life would be filled withwhat? Id have no buoy or security blanket or man behind the curtain. Id be dry, unfilled, just curved edges and rims. The thought paralyzed me.

Now, Im at this other side. Im still learning what this other side is like and who I am in it. But I do know this- Im more now than I was before. Im more me and more strong and more present. I feel more and I listen to me more.

Days are now broken up between feeling this raw, strength of life and connection to people and namastes and really fantastic Im part of the universe and not from vibes to a total, giant uncertainty and instability, and anger and exhaustion. I never knew I could get tired of feelings. Weve moved in together, you see. We wake up together and go to bed together and they insist on forming an invisible fanny pack around my waist during the day. Hello intimacy, party of two. Theyre normally the big spoon. My thoughts continue from one moment to the next and connect without taking breaks. I had years and years of turning myself on and off and more off and now I just want to be on.

I wish I could say that when I wake up sober now, Im not depressed anymore or lonely, my friends became better friends, I became the perfect best friend, sister and daughter, and my love life came together Prince Charming Cinderella style. But becoming more sober didnt mean everything clicked into place, it just means I see the pieces more clearly and I dont hide from the messy parts.

So now whatdo I become resentful and guilty and depressed thinking about the years I spent avoiding intimacy and feelings and honesty and fuck, concrete memories? Do I think those years dont count? Do I blame my bad habits on the constant excess of New York City? Do I blame the alcoholic-like attributes that run in my blood line? Do I blame my friends? Or the work hard play hard Don Draper industry I work in? Do I blame shitty men boys?

Yes, to all of the above. I point the finger at all of them and then back at me, and then at them and back at me. Lily says hi.

Ive had men yell at me, not being able to grasp the idea of my moderated drinking habits, insisting that Im just pretending I dont drink because I wanted them to buy me drinks. I dont get it either. No means no guys. My friendships have changed, my god have my friendships changed. One friend who pre-games with a bottle of wine (a standard respectable approach I once followed), on multiple occasions, dumped her wine into my water when she realized I wasnt drunk like she was. Yeah, I dont spend time with her anymore.

I went sixty days without drinking before I decided to drink again. For me it was like breaking up with a boyfriend and then meeting up again two months later. Never a good idea. Youll never want to be just friends who catch every up every now and then. I drank Vueve Clicquot and it didnt make the night better but it didnt make it worse. I didnt gray out. I didnt break down. That night isnt fuzzy. I could wake up in the morning.

Theres been other times when I drank recently and couldnt move far from the couch. Those times are a quick, slap in the face of what not to do. But old feelings and doubts still come flooding back in. Will I always want another drink? Why cant I just stay sober? Why does everyone make it look so easy? Is my therapist actually Lily Tomlin?

Deep down I know the majority of my problems start and stop with alcohol. Drinking will always be a part of my life whether Im drinking or not. Itd be easier to figure out if I wasnt both the variable and constant in this little conundrum of mine.

Today, I stare all the feels in the face, and make sure they know the last sixteen years matter but the last thirteen months matter even more. Im not her anymore, Im a different, more me now.

Im not 100% sober and I dont know if I ever will be. One day, maybe sooner rather than later, I could decide to sign up for a sober lifestyle again. But right now, I cant imagine midnight on New Years Eve without a champagne toast. I can do without five toasts but one still feels OK to me. So yeahmy relationship with drinking? We file it under Its complicated.

The good news is, Ive learned how to unwind on a Friday night without the trifecta of a bottle of wine, pizza and Netflix. My secret is just pizza and Netflix.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/11/13/getting-sober-redefining-my-longest-relationship/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/11/13/getting-sober-redefining-my-longest-relationship/

[adambstingus]

Getting Sober: Redefining My Longest Relationship

Id call it time traveling. Most of the time I didnt know I was doing it until I was already in too deep. It didnt matter the day of the week or the time, or who I was with. I was just as capable of bending time alone, as I was with a handful of friends.

There was no such thing as one or two or three drinks. Just like a two headed giraffe didnt exist, neither did grabbing a couple of drinks. Its that simple. I really cant explain it any other way. My average was a drink every fifteen minutes. I never thought about that. I didnt brag about it or work towards it or talk about it, my rhythm just happened. The drink was in my hand and I drank it. I didnt think of slowing down or having an empty hand.

Id start somewhere- at an apartment or at dinner or a happy hour or on a date and Id arm myself with whatever I was in the mood for. There were the regular players: Jack Daniels and diet coke, chardonnay, Redbull and vodka, Blue Moon and those few years in my early 20s where I thought the only two drinks on the planet was a Sex On The Beach and Cosmo. Drink menus were for amateurs.

Never red wine though. It stained my teeth and lips, Id explain when asked, and respond with my quirky I only drink it alone and in the dark answer. Theyd always laugh.

For a long time the only shot I tossed back was Patron XO. Lemon drops and Kamikazes were too collegiate for me. I was smart enough to know that I always got sick after Whiskey. That was my kryptonite. It didnt stop me from drinking it again (and again), just in case getting sick was a one time thing. Spoiler alert: it wasnt.

So that was me, always, from the first time I got drunk during a party at 16 years old to my four day New Years Eve bender at age 30. But lets not call it a bender, or else my parents will worry. It was celebrating a new year with friends. It was a vacation and a belated birthday. It was me letting present, in the moment Diana take the wheel for a few days.

By the time YOLO was on T-shirts I had carpe diem booze down to a science.

It was all so normal and always OK: competing with friends how many guys we can make out with in one night (one of my favorite games), bouncing around speakeasys in the East Village, sneaking into the high end member only clubs in the Meatpacking District, 4am pancakes at a diner then going home with the cutest guy there, leaving without paying your tab, putting your drinks on a strangers tab, hooking up with your friends crush, sleeping with a guy who has a girlfriend (what, he had an accent, ok?), telling work you have a doctors appointment when you need an extra hour of sleep, telling work youre sick when youre too hungover to get out of bed, napping in the bathroom stall at work when you realize you went to work still drunk.

Theres wasnt a problem with any of this. I could go to six bars in a night and only remember two of them (seetime traveling). Others had different, less poetic names for it- like graying out or even more ominous, going black out. But lets not talk about that. Those words are scary.

It all just made so much sense to me. I had a desperate thirst for life, for new experiences and stories that were only mine and drinking was my very own special key to open that door. I dont remember being trained but I knew this truth: that I needed to drink- to have fun, to meet a guy, to de-stress, to celebrate, after a bad day, after a good day, when its more than 50 degrees out, when its under 15 degrees, because its Monday.

Its dramatic sounding, I know, but when I was drinking, like really in the middle of a good run, I was untouchable. My thoughts evened out and worries were left at the coat check. I was charming and funny. I was weightless and sexy. Nothing could ground me.

I wasnt stupid. I knew what was happening. There wasnt a river in Egypt. The biggest part was the after, when Morning Diana gradually and reluctantly pixelated back into place ready to droop down into the exorcist-like hangover.

When I was in college my hangover cure was strawberries and chocolate milk. After I received my diploma I graduated to well-done bacon, coffee, Mimosas. Water never entered the equation.

Sometime in my mid-twenties while I was gripping on to my spinning couch, I googled hangover and depression and was so relieved when I read the phrase emotional hangover. I immediately felt better seeing the feeling I felt printed on my screen. It was a relief: I wasnt alone in this feeling and it had a name. Urban Dictionary knows about it so it must be OK. Ill finish my bacon and chocolate milkshake and be just ducky.

The recovery time was always different- sometimes I could slide out of bed and be partially human the next day and other times I needed a day alone to stew in a mental playback of the night before. During those days the biggest challenge was the trek from my bedroom to couch. No matter how I recouped I never thought it was bad. I thought my friends were doing it too.

Country songs and Van Wilder confirmed for me that getting drunk and hangovers were a part of life. I never raised my hand to question it. So, about the men. I bet you thought it was hard to find a man with all this time zig zagging and space jumping but it wasnt. Lets go back ten years again and Ill tell you about all the threesomes I had. It was me, the guy, and alcohol.

It was how I flirted, played, connected, and bonded with men, always. If the boyfriend had a bad day wed start downing drinks in the hopes that hed open up and talk to me. To flirt with the new cute coworker Id suggest we play beer after work. Hed find it charming and cute and wed drunkenly made out in the corner of the bar after swapping 1st pet names and office gossip. I had a fling with a British banker off and on for 3 years and when wed meet late night hed pour us shots of tequila first. It was our thing. Our inside joke with Don Julio.We didnt know each others last names but we shared an appreciation for top shelf tequila at 3am before having sex. Im a romantic, I know.

My favorite three words when I was with a guy were Want another round?

During each encounter, each date, I wouldnt feel satisfied until I heard those words. He could shout it or whisper it in my ear, either way I wanted those words. It meant: he liked me, hes having a good time, and he wanted to keep spending time with me. He didnt want the night to end. It meant intimacy, it meant hand holding and flirty eyes and of course, sex.

I could count the number of times I had sober sex on one hand. I didnt enjoy it. To avoid it, Id explain that I simply didnt like morning sex. Most of the time Id be too hungover to move from a fetal position so it wasnt pursued for long on his end anyway. Hooking up drunk was sexy and fun. We could let our inhibitions go and really connect. Fun was had by all. I wasnt worried about any of it.

Theres unfortunately worse parts. Im not going to tell them to you though. Mostly because my mother may read this. But also because I was once told that you dont need to go all the way to the bottom floor in order to get off the elevator. So lets baby step off the lift, shall we?

I was in one of my first sessions with my new therapist when she told me I repeated the word untouchable a lot and made me explain why I thought that was a good word. (See all of the above for my response). Valentines Day was two weeks away and I was mentally preparing to be single again during my least favorite holiday of the year.

I wasnt too worried though because Id participate in my friends annual BOVD- Black Out Valentines Day. The year before included colorful fish bowls and sushi till 2am. Problem solved. I was talking but realizing more and more how much she looked like Lily Tomlin when she put a piece paper down in front of me. It was a wordy contract with bullet points in the middle and a blank line next to my name at the bottom.

I was supposed to go a week without drinking. Thats a lie. I could drink. But only three glasses of beer or wine, two different nights. If I broke the contract I had to give $100 to her. Lily was crazy. How was this legal? I couldnt do this. Fact. I shouldnt have even been there. I wanted to deal with this but apparently not by actually dealing with it. I argued with her and left the session with the unsigned document squished to the bottom of my purse. That night I didnt sleep and express ordered Alan Carrs Easy Way to Control Alcohol. Problem solved. I went out drinking all week. And I drank like no one was watching.

Then I signed the contract. And then when week one ended, I signed the next contract. Was it easy? Fuck no. Did I have to write some checks to my therapist? Yes. Did I cry? Did I rant? Did my hands and mind twitch and turn during dinners with friends as I stared at my 1 drink for the night? Hell to the yes. Most nights all I could think about was my hand stammering under the table and how much I wanted and needed another drink.

I thought of the contract and Lilys annoying face staring down at me. I thought of how I felt when I was hungover. I thought of the fuzzy nights. I thought of the fuzzy years. I cried a lot. I stayed in and watched Netflix even more. I watched Vampire Diaries starting at season 1, many times. In therapy I compared my drunk self to being a vampire with no soul. There are many different points of view on vampire rule and regulations but most of them agree that the creatures of the night have no soul. Stick with me here. In Vampire Diaries the rule of thumb is that vampires can turn this soul switch off and on. When its on they feel everything, when its off they feel nothing and become untouchable. Follow me now? The easy way to live is to keep the switch off. I did that, over and over again. I was tired of it and wanted to be in the world of the living again. I didnt decide this overnight. It took months, a lot more episodes of Vampire Diaries and most of 2015. Something weird happened around the same time I switched to watching new episodes of Arrow that wouldve really pissed off my 23 year old Cosmo drinking self- I stopped enjoying drinking.

By November I was completely sober and joined a boxing ring. I could get up in the morning and exercise. I didnt need to sign a contract anymore. I sober dated. I sober celebrated friends birthdays. I sober had a fun Thursday night. I went to AA meetings sometimes and spent most of the meeting listening and nodding my head. I was funny and smart and friendly during the day and I was funny and smart and friendly at night. I added to my own life and stopped letting drinking take away from it. I started a social group. I started a book club. I started.

Sometime between the last crippling snow storm of last year and planning my 31st birthday, I stopped wanting to go to Edit Undo. I re-entered my own life. I went through those years and theyre a part of me for worse or worser. I went through it before knowing there was another side. I hit my rock bottoms (yes, there was more than one). Im still learning how to talk about it- what I want to say about it and to who. But the further I get from the person I was then, the more I like who Im turning into now. But letting go of her seemed like an impossible ask that the tiny tired voice deep inside me was begging for.

If I stopped drinking Id lose all of me, not just a part. I was terrified as if I was going to lose a limb or my hearing. My life would be filled withwhat? Id have no buoy or security blanket or man behind the curtain. Id be dry, unfilled, just curved edges and rims. The thought paralyzed me.

Now, Im at this other side. Im still learning what this other side is like and who I am in it. But I do know this- Im more now than I was before. Im more me and more strong and more present. I feel more and I listen to me more.

Days are now broken up between feeling this raw, strength of life and connection to people and namastes and really fantastic Im part of the universe and not from vibes to a total, giant uncertainty and instability, and anger and exhaustion. I never knew I could get tired of feelings. Weve moved in together, you see. We wake up together and go to bed together and they insist on forming an invisible fanny pack around my waist during the day. Hello intimacy, party of two. Theyre normally the big spoon. My thoughts continue from one moment to the next and connect without taking breaks. I had years and years of turning myself on and off and more off and now I just want to be on.

I wish I could say that when I wake up sober now, Im not depressed anymore or lonely, my friends became better friends, I became the perfect best friend, sister and daughter, and my love life came together Prince Charming Cinderella style. But becoming more sober didnt mean everything clicked into place, it just means I see the pieces more clearly and I dont hide from the messy parts.

So now whatdo I become resentful and guilty and depressed thinking about the years I spent avoiding intimacy and feelings and honesty and fuck, concrete memories? Do I think those years dont count? Do I blame my bad habits on the constant excess of New York City? Do I blame the alcoholic-like attributes that run in my blood line? Do I blame my friends? Or the work hard play hard Don Draper industry I work in? Do I blame shitty men boys?

Yes, to all of the above. I point the finger at all of them and then back at me, and then at them and back at me. Lily says hi.

Ive had men yell at me, not being able to grasp the idea of my moderated drinking habits, insisting that Im just pretending I dont drink because I wanted them to buy me drinks. I dont get it either. No means no guys. My friendships have changed, my god have my friendships changed. One friend who pre-games with a bottle of wine (a standard respectable approach I once followed), on multiple occasions, dumped her wine into my water when she realized I wasnt drunk like she was. Yeah, I dont spend time with her anymore.

I went sixty days without drinking before I decided to drink again. For me it was like breaking up with a boyfriend and then meeting up again two months later. Never a good idea. Youll never want to be just friends who catch every up every now and then. I drank Vueve Clicquot and it didnt make the night better but it didnt make it worse. I didnt gray out. I didnt break down. That night isnt fuzzy. I could wake up in the morning.

Theres been other times when I drank recently and couldnt move far from the couch. Those times are a quick, slap in the face of what not to do. But old feelings and doubts still come flooding back in. Will I always want another drink? Why cant I just stay sober? Why does everyone make it look so easy? Is my therapist actually Lily Tomlin?

Deep down I know the majority of my problems start and stop with alcohol. Drinking will always be a part of my life whether Im drinking or not. Itd be easier to figure out if I wasnt both the variable and constant in this little conundrum of mine.

Today, I stare all the feels in the face, and make sure they know the last sixteen years matter but the last thirteen months matter even more. Im not her anymore, Im a different, more me now.

Im not 100% sober and I dont know if I ever will be. One day, maybe sooner rather than later, I could decide to sign up for a sober lifestyle again. But right now, I cant imagine midnight on New Years Eve without a champagne toast. I can do without five toasts but one still feels OK to me. So yeahmy relationship with drinking? We file it under Its complicated.

The good news is, Ive learned how to unwind on a Friday night without the trifecta of a bottle of wine, pizza and Netflix. My secret is just pizza and Netflix.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/11/13/getting-sober-redefining-my-longest-relationship/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/167431371812

[allofbeercom]

Getting Sober: Redefining My Longest Relationship

Id call it time traveling. Most of the time I didnt know I was doing it until I was already in too deep. It didnt matter the day of the week or the time, or who I was with. I was just as capable of bending time alone, as I was with a handful of friends.

There was no such thing as one or two or three drinks. Just like a two headed giraffe didnt exist, neither did grabbing a couple of drinks. Its that simple. I really cant explain it any other way. My average was a drink every fifteen minutes. I never thought about that. I didnt brag about it or work towards it or talk about it, my rhythm just happened. The drink was in my hand and I drank it. I didnt think of slowing down or having an empty hand.

Id start somewhere- at an apartment or at dinner or a happy hour or on a date and Id arm myself with whatever I was in the mood for. There were the regular players: Jack Daniels and diet coke, chardonnay, Redbull and vodka, Blue Moon and those few years in my early 20s where I thought the only two drinks on the planet was a Sex On The Beach and Cosmo. Drink menus were for amateurs.

Never red wine though. It stained my teeth and lips, Id explain when asked, and respond with my quirky I only drink it alone and in the dark answer. Theyd always laugh.

For a long time the only shot I tossed back was Patron XO. Lemon drops and Kamikazes were too collegiate for me. I was smart enough to know that I always got sick after Whiskey. That was my kryptonite. It didnt stop me from drinking it again (and again), just in case getting sick was a one time thing. Spoiler alert: it wasnt.

So that was me, always, from the first time I got drunk during a party at 16 years old to my four day New Years Eve bender at age 30. But lets not call it a bender, or else my parents will worry. It was celebrating a new year with friends. It was a vacation and a belated birthday. It was me letting present, in the moment Diana take the wheel for a few days.

By the time YOLO was on T-shirts I had carpe diem booze down to a science.

It was all so normal and always OK: competing with friends how many guys we can make out with in one night (one of my favorite games), bouncing around speakeasys in the East Village, sneaking into the high end member only clubs in the Meatpacking District, 4am pancakes at a diner then going home with the cutest guy there, leaving without paying your tab, putting your drinks on a strangers tab, hooking up with your friends crush, sleeping with a guy who has a girlfriend (what, he had an accent, ok?), telling work you have a doctors appointment when you need an extra hour of sleep, telling work youre sick when youre too hungover to get out of bed, napping in the bathroom stall at work when you realize you went to work still drunk.

Theres wasnt a problem with any of this. I could go to six bars in a night and only remember two of them (seetime traveling). Others had different, less poetic names for it- like graying out or even more ominous, going black out. But lets not talk about that. Those words are scary.

It all just made so much sense to me. I had a desperate thirst for life, for new experiences and stories that were only mine and drinking was my very own special key to open that door. I dont remember being trained but I knew this truth: that I needed to drink- to have fun, to meet a guy, to de-stress, to celebrate, after a bad day, after a good day, when its more than 50 degrees out, when its under 15 degrees, because its Monday.

Its dramatic sounding, I know, but when I was drinking, like really in the middle of a good run, I was untouchable. My thoughts evened out and worries were left at the coat check. I was charming and funny. I was weightless and sexy. Nothing could ground me.

I wasnt stupid. I knew what was happening. There wasnt a river in Egypt. The biggest part was the after, when Morning Diana gradually and reluctantly pixelated back into place ready to droop down into the exorcist-like hangover.

When I was in college my hangover cure was strawberries and chocolate milk. After I received my diploma I graduated to well-done bacon, coffee, Mimosas. Water never entered the equation.

Sometime in my mid-twenties while I was gripping on to my spinning couch, I googled hangover and depression and was so relieved when I read the phrase emotional hangover. I immediately felt better seeing the feeling I felt printed on my screen. It was a relief: I wasnt alone in this feeling and it had a name. Urban Dictionary knows about it so it must be OK. Ill finish my bacon and chocolate milkshake and be just ducky.

The recovery time was always different- sometimes I could slide out of bed and be partially human the next day and other times I needed a day alone to stew in a mental playback of the night before. During those days the biggest challenge was the trek from my bedroom to couch. No matter how I recouped I never thought it was bad. I thought my friends were doing it too.

Country songs and Van Wilder confirmed for me that getting drunk and hangovers were a part of life. I never raised my hand to question it. So, about the men. I bet you thought it was hard to find a man with all this time zig zagging and space jumping but it wasnt. Lets go back ten years again and Ill tell you about all the threesomes I had. It was me, the guy, and alcohol.

It was how I flirted, played, connected, and bonded with men, always. If the boyfriend had a bad day wed start downing drinks in the hopes that hed open up and talk to me. To flirt with the new cute coworker Id suggest we play beer after work. Hed find it charming and cute and wed drunkenly made out in the corner of the bar after swapping 1st pet names and office gossip. I had a fling with a British banker off and on for 3 years and when wed meet late night hed pour us shots of tequila first. It was our thing. Our inside joke with Don Julio.We didnt know each others last names but we shared an appreciation for top shelf tequila at 3am before having sex. Im a romantic, I know.

My favorite three words when I was with a guy were Want another round?

During each encounter, each date, I wouldnt feel satisfied until I heard those words. He could shout it or whisper it in my ear, either way I wanted those words. It meant: he liked me, hes having a good time, and he wanted to keep spending time with me. He didnt want the night to end. It meant intimacy, it meant hand holding and flirty eyes and of course, sex.

I could count the number of times I had sober sex on one hand. I didnt enjoy it. To avoid it, Id explain that I simply didnt like morning sex. Most of the time Id be too hungover to move from a fetal position so it wasnt pursued for long on his end anyway. Hooking up drunk was sexy and fun. We could let our inhibitions go and really connect. Fun was had by all. I wasnt worried about any of it.

Theres unfortunately worse parts. Im not going to tell them to you though. Mostly because my mother may read this. But also because I was once told that you dont need to go all the way to the bottom floor in order to get off the elevator. So lets baby step off the lift, shall we?

I was in one of my first sessions with my new therapist when she told me I repeated the word untouchable a lot and made me explain why I thought that was a good word. (See all of the above for my response). Valentines Day was two weeks away and I was mentally preparing to be single again during my least favorite holiday of the year.

I wasnt too worried though because Id participate in my friends annual BOVD- Black Out Valentines Day. The year before included colorful fish bowls and sushi till 2am. Problem solved. I was talking but realizing more and more how much she looked like Lily Tomlin when she put a piece paper down in front of me. It was a wordy contract with bullet points in the middle and a blank line next to my name at the bottom.

I was supposed to go a week without drinking. Thats a lie. I could drink. But only three glasses of beer or wine, two different nights. If I broke the contract I had to give $100 to her. Lily was crazy. How was this legal? I couldnt do this. Fact. I shouldnt have even been there. I wanted to deal with this but apparently not by actually dealing with it. I argued with her and left the session with the unsigned document squished to the bottom of my purse. That night I didnt sleep and express ordered Alan Carrs Easy Way to Control Alcohol. Problem solved. I went out drinking all week. And I drank like no one was watching.

Then I signed the contract. And then when week one ended, I signed the next contract. Was it easy? Fuck no. Did I have to write some checks to my therapist? Yes. Did I cry? Did I rant? Did my hands and mind twitch and turn during dinners with friends as I stared at my 1 drink for the night? Hell to the yes. Most nights all I could think about was my hand stammering under the table and how much I wanted and needed another drink.

I thought of the contract and Lilys annoying face staring down at me. I thought of how I felt when I was hungover. I thought of the fuzzy nights. I thought of the fuzzy years. I cried a lot. I stayed in and watched Netflix even more. I watched Vampire Diaries starting at season 1, many times. In therapy I compared my drunk self to being a vampire with no soul. There are many different points of view on vampire rule and regulations but most of them agree that the creatures of the night have no soul. Stick with me here. In Vampire Diaries the rule of thumb is that vampires can turn this soul switch off and on. When its on they feel everything, when its off they feel nothing and become untouchable. Follow me now? The easy way to live is to keep the switch off. I did that, over and over again. I was tired of it and wanted to be in the world of the living again. I didnt decide this overnight. It took months, a lot more episodes of Vampire Diaries and most of 2015. Something weird happened around the same time I switched to watching new episodes of Arrow that wouldve really pissed off my 23 year old Cosmo drinking self- I stopped enjoying drinking.

By November I was completely sober and joined a boxing ring. I could get up in the morning and exercise. I didnt need to sign a contract anymore. I sober dated. I sober celebrated friends birthdays. I sober had a fun Thursday night. I went to AA meetings sometimes and spent most of the meeting listening and nodding my head. I was funny and smart and friendly during the day and I was funny and smart and friendly at night. I added to my own life and stopped letting drinking take away from it. I started a social group. I started a book club. I started.

Sometime between the last crippling snow storm of last year and planning my 31st birthday, I stopped wanting to go to Edit Undo. I re-entered my own life. I went through those years and theyre a part of me for worse or worser. I went through it before knowing there was another side. I hit my rock bottoms (yes, there was more than one). Im still learning how to talk about it- what I want to say about it and to who. But the further I get from the person I was then, the more I like who Im turning into now. But letting go of her seemed like an impossible ask that the tiny tired voice deep inside me was begging for.

If I stopped drinking Id lose all of me, not just a part. I was terrified as if I was going to lose a limb or my hearing. My life would be filled withwhat? Id have no buoy or security blanket or man behind the curtain. Id be dry, unfilled, just curved edges and rims. The thought paralyzed me.

Now, Im at this other side. Im still learning what this other side is like and who I am in it. But I do know this- Im more now than I was before. Im more me and more strong and more present. I feel more and I listen to me more.

Days are now broken up between feeling this raw, strength of life and connection to people and namastes and really fantastic Im part of the universe and not from vibes to a total, giant uncertainty and instability, and anger and exhaustion. I never knew I could get tired of feelings. Weve moved in together, you see. We wake up together and go to bed together and they insist on forming an invisible fanny pack around my waist during the day. Hello intimacy, party of two. Theyre normally the big spoon. My thoughts continue from one moment to the next and connect without taking breaks. I had years and years of turning myself on and off and more off and now I just want to be on.

I wish I could say that when I wake up sober now, Im not depressed anymore or lonely, my friends became better friends, I became the perfect best friend, sister and daughter, and my love life came together Prince Charming Cinderella style. But becoming more sober didnt mean everything clicked into place, it just means I see the pieces more clearly and I dont hide from the messy parts.

So now whatdo I become resentful and guilty and depressed thinking about the years I spent avoiding intimacy and feelings and honesty and fuck, concrete memories? Do I think those years dont count? Do I blame my bad habits on the constant excess of New York City? Do I blame the alcoholic-like attributes that run in my blood line? Do I blame my friends? Or the work hard play hard Don Draper industry I work in? Do I blame shitty men boys?

Yes, to all of the above. I point the finger at all of them and then back at me, and then at them and back at me. Lily says hi.

Ive had men yell at me, not being able to grasp the idea of my moderated drinking habits, insisting that Im just pretending I dont drink because I wanted them to buy me drinks. I dont get it either. No means no guys. My friendships have changed, my god have my friendships changed. One friend who pre-games with a bottle of wine (a standard respectable approach I once followed), on multiple occasions, dumped her wine into my water when she realized I wasnt drunk like she was. Yeah, I dont spend time with her anymore.

I went sixty days without drinking before I decided to drink again. For me it was like breaking up with a boyfriend and then meeting up again two months later. Never a good idea. Youll never want to be just friends who catch every up every now and then. I drank Vueve Clicquot and it didnt make the night better but it didnt make it worse. I didnt gray out. I didnt break down. That night isnt fuzzy. I could wake up in the morning.

Theres been other times when I drank recently and couldnt move far from the couch. Those times are a quick, slap in the face of what not to do. But old feelings and doubts still come flooding back in. Will I always want another drink? Why cant I just stay sober? Why does everyone make it look so easy? Is my therapist actually Lily Tomlin?

Deep down I know the majority of my problems start and stop with alcohol. Drinking will always be a part of my life whether Im drinking or not. Itd be easier to figure out if I wasnt both the variable and constant in this little conundrum of mine.

Today, I stare all the feels in the face, and make sure they know the last sixteen years matter but the last thirteen months matter even more. Im not her anymore, Im a different, more me now.

Im not 100% sober and I dont know if I ever will be. One day, maybe sooner rather than later, I could decide to sign up for a sober lifestyle again. But right now, I cant imagine midnight on New Years Eve without a champagne toast. I can do without five toasts but one still feels OK to me. So yeahmy relationship with drinking? We file it under Its complicated.

The good news is, Ive learned how to unwind on a Friday night without the trifecta of a bottle of wine, pizza and Netflix. My secret is just pizza and Netflix.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/11/13/getting-sober-redefining-my-longest-relationship/

[viralhottopics]

Getting Sober: Redefining My Longest Relationship

Id call it time traveling. Most of the time I didnt know I was doing it until I was already in too deep. It didnt matter the day of the week or the time, or who I was with. I was just as capable of bending time alone, as I was with a handful of friends.

There was no such thing as one or two or three drinks. Just like a two headed giraffe didnt exist, neither did grabbing a couple of drinks. Its that simple. I really cant explain it any other way. My average was a drink every fifteen minutes. I never thought about that. I didnt brag about it or work towards it or talk about it, my rhythm just happened. The drink was in my hand and I drank it. I didnt think of slowing down or having an empty hand.

Id start somewhere- at an apartment or at dinner or a happy hour or on a date and Id arm myself with whatever I was in the mood for. There were the regular players: Jack Daniels and diet coke, chardonnay, Redbull and vodka, Blue Moon and those few years in my early 20s where I thought the only two drinks on the planet was a Sex On The Beach and Cosmo. Drink menus were for amateurs.

Never red wine though. It stained my teeth and lips, Id explain when asked, and respond with my quirky I only drink it alone and in the dark answer. Theyd always laugh.

For a long time the only shot I tossed back was Patron XO. Lemon drops and Kamikazes were too collegiate for me. I was smart enough to know that I always got sick after Whiskey. That was my kryptonite. It didnt stop me from drinking it again (and again), just in case getting sick was a one time thing. Spoiler alert: it wasnt.

So that was me, always, from the first time I got drunk during a party at 16 years old to my four day New Years Eve bender at age 30. But lets not call it a bender, or else my parents will worry. It was celebrating a new year with friends. It was a vacation and a belated birthday. It was me letting present, in the moment Diana take the wheel for a few days.

By the time YOLO was on T-shirts I had carpe diem booze down to a science.

It was all so normal and always OK: competing with friends how many guys we can make out with in one night (one of my favorite games), bouncing around speakeasys in the East Village, sneaking into the high end member only clubs in the Meatpacking District, 4am pancakes at a diner then going home with the cutest guy there, leaving without paying your tab, putting your drinks on a strangers tab, hooking up with your friends crush, sleeping with a guy who has a girlfriend (what, he had an accent, ok?), telling work you have a doctors appointment when you need an extra hour of sleep, telling work youre sick when youre too hungover to get out of bed, napping in the bathroom stall at work when you realize you went to work still drunk.

Theres wasnt a problem with any of this. I could go to six bars in a night and only remember two of them (seetime traveling). Others had different, less poetic names for it- like graying out or even more ominous, going black out. But lets not talk about that. Those words are scary.

It all just made so much sense to me. I had a desperate thirst for life, for new experiences and stories that were only mine and drinking was my very own special key to open that door. I dont remember being trained but I knew this truth: that I needed to drink- to have fun, to meet a guy, to de-stress, to celebrate, after a bad day, after a good day, when its more than 50 degrees out, when its under 15 degrees, because its Monday.

Its dramatic sounding, I know, but when I was drinking, like really in the middle of a good run, I was untouchable. My thoughts evened out and worries were left at the coat check. I was charming and funny. I was weightless and sexy. Nothing could ground me.

I wasnt stupid. I knew what was happening. There wasnt a river in Egypt. The biggest part was the after, when Morning Diana gradually and reluctantly pixelated back into place ready to droop down into the exorcist-like hangover.

When I was in college my hangover cure was strawberries and chocolate milk. After I received my diploma I graduated to well-done bacon, coffee, Mimosas. Water never entered the equation.

Sometime in my mid-twenties while I was gripping on to my spinning couch, I googled hangover and depression and was so relieved when I read the phrase emotional hangover. I immediately felt better seeing the feeling I felt printed on my screen. It was a relief: I wasnt alone in this feeling and it had a name. Urban Dictionary knows about it so it must be OK. Ill finish my bacon and chocolate milkshake and be just ducky.

The recovery time was always different- sometimes I could slide out of bed and be partially human the next day and other times I needed a day alone to stew in a mental playback of the night before. During those days the biggest challenge was the trek from my bedroom to couch. No matter how I recouped I never thought it was bad. I thought my friends were doing it too.

Country songs and Van Wilder confirmed for me that getting drunk and hangovers were a part of life. I never raised my hand to question it. So, about the men. I bet you thought it was hard to find a man with all this time zig zagging and space jumping but it wasnt. Lets go back ten years again and Ill tell you about all the threesomes I had. It was me, the guy, and alcohol.

It was how I flirted, played, connected, and bonded with men, always. If the boyfriend had a bad day wed start downing drinks in the hopes that hed open up and talk to me. To flirt with the new cute coworker Id suggest we play beer after work. Hed find it charming and cute and wed drunkenly made out in the corner of the bar after swapping 1st pet names and office gossip. I had a fling with a British banker off and on for 3 years and when wed meet late night hed pour us shots of tequila first. It was our thing. Our inside joke with Don Julio.We didnt know each others last names but we shared an appreciation for top shelf tequila at 3am before having sex. Im a romantic, I know.

My favorite three words when I was with a guy were Want another round?

During each encounter, each date, I wouldnt feel satisfied until I heard those words. He could shout it or whisper it in my ear, either way I wanted those words. It meant: he liked me, hes having a good time, and he wanted to keep spending time with me. He didnt want the night to end. It meant intimacy, it meant hand holding and flirty eyes and of course, sex.

I could count the number of times I had sober sex on one hand. I didnt enjoy it. To avoid it, Id explain that I simply didnt like morning sex. Most of the time Id be too hungover to move from a fetal position so it wasnt pursued for long on his end anyway. Hooking up drunk was sexy and fun. We could let our inhibitions go and really connect. Fun was had by all. I wasnt worried about any of it.

Theres unfortunately worse parts. Im not going to tell them to you though. Mostly because my mother may read this. But also because I was once told that you dont need to go all the way to the bottom floor in order to get off the elevator. So lets baby step off the lift, shall we?

I was in one of my first sessions with my new therapist when she told me I repeated the word untouchable a lot and made me explain why I thought that was a good word. (See all of the above for my response). Valentines Day was two weeks away and I was mentally preparing to be single again during my least favorite holiday of the year.

I wasnt too worried though because Id participate in my friends annual BOVD- Black Out Valentines Day. The year before included colorful fish bowls and sushi till 2am. Problem solved. I was talking but realizing more and more how much she looked like Lily Tomlin when she put a piece paper down in front of me. It was a wordy contract with bullet points in the middle and a blank line next to my name at the bottom.

I was supposed to go a week without drinking. Thats a lie. I could drink. But only three glasses of beer or wine, two different nights. If I broke the contract I had to give $100 to her. Lily was crazy. How was this legal? I couldnt do this. Fact. I shouldnt have even been there. I wanted to deal with this but apparently not by actually dealing with it. I argued with her and left the session with the unsigned document squished to the bottom of my purse. That night I didnt sleep and express ordered Alan Carrs Easy Way to Control Alcohol. Problem solved. I went out drinking all week. And I drank like no one was watching.

Then I signed the contract. And then when week one ended, I signed the next contract. Was it easy? Fuck no. Did I have to write some checks to my therapist? Yes. Did I cry? Did I rant? Did my hands and mind twitch and turn during dinners with friends as I stared at my 1 drink for the night? Hell to the yes. Most nights all I could think about was my hand stammering under the table and how much I wanted and needed another drink.

I thought of the contract and Lilys annoying face staring down at me. I thought of how I felt when I was hungover. I thought of the fuzzy nights. I thought of the fuzzy years. I cried a lot. I stayed in and watched Netflix even more. I watched Vampire Diaries starting at season 1, many times. In therapy I compared my drunk self to being a vampire with no soul. There are many different points of view on vampire rule and regulations but most of them agree that the creatures of the night have no soul. Stick with me here. In Vampire Diaries the rule of thumb is that vampires can turn this soul switch off and on. When its on they feel everything, when its off they feel nothing and become untouchable. Follow me now? The easy way to live is to keep the switch off. I did that, over and over again. I was tired of it and wanted to be in the world of the living again. I didnt decide this overnight. It took months, a lot more episodes of Vampire Diaries and most of 2015. Something weird happened around the same time I switched to watching new episodes of Arrow that wouldve really pissed off my 23 year old Cosmo drinking self- I stopped enjoying drinking.

By November I was completely sober and joined a boxing ring. I could get up in the morning and exercise. I didnt need to sign a contract anymore. I sober dated. I sober celebrated friends birthdays. I sober had a fun Thursday night. I went to AA meetings sometimes and spent most of the meeting listening and nodding my head. I was funny and smart and friendly during the day and I was funny and smart and friendly at night. I added to my own life and stopped letting drinking take away from it. I started a social group. I started a book club. I started.

Sometime between the last crippling snow storm of last year and planning my 31st birthday, I stopped wanting to go to Edit Undo. I re-entered my own life. I went through those years and theyre a part of me for worse or worser. I went through it before knowing there was another side. I hit my rock bottoms (yes, there was more than one). Im still learning how to talk about it- what I want to say about it and to who. But the further I get from the person I was then, the more I like who Im turning into now. But letting go of her seemed like an impossible ask that the tiny tired voice deep inside me was begging for.

If I stopped drinking Id lose all of me, not just a part. I was terrified as if I was going to lose a limb or my hearing. My life would be filled withwhat? Id have no buoy or security blanket or man behind the curtain. Id be dry, unfilled, just curved edges and rims. The thought paralyzed me.

Now, Im at this other side. Im still learning what this other side is like and who I am in it. But I do know this- Im more now than I was before. Im more me and more strong and more present. I feel more and I listen to me more.

Days are now broken up between feeling this raw, strength of life and connection to people and namastes and really fantastic Im part of the universe and not from vibes to a total, giant uncertainty and instability, and anger and exhaustion. I never knew I could get tired of feelings. Weve moved in together, you see. We wake up together and go to bed together and they insist on forming an invisible fanny pack around my waist during the day. Hello intimacy, party of two. Theyre normally the big spoon. My thoughts continue from one moment to the next and connect without taking breaks. I had years and years of turning myself on and off and more off and now I just want to be on.

I wish I could say that when I wake up sober now, Im not depressed anymore or lonely, my friends became better friends, I became the perfect best friend, sister and daughter, and my love life came together Prince Charming Cinderella style. But becoming more sober didnt mean everything clicked into place, it just means I see the pieces more clearly and I dont hide from the messy parts.

So now whatdo I become resentful and guilty and depressed thinking about the years I spent avoiding intimacy and feelings and honesty and fuck, concrete memories? Do I think those years dont count? Do I blame my bad habits on the constant excess of New York City? Do I blame the alcoholic-like attributes that run in my blood line? Do I blame my friends? Or the work hard play hard Don Draper industry I work in? Do I blame shitty men boys?

Yes, to all of the above. I point the finger at all of them and then back at me, and then at them and back at me. Lily says hi.

Ive had men yell at me, not being able to grasp the idea of my moderated drinking habits, insisting that Im just pretending I dont drink because I wanted them to buy me drinks. I dont get it either. No means no guys. My friendships have changed, my god have my friendships changed. One friend who pre-games with a bottle of wine (a standard respectable approach I once followed), on multiple occasions, dumped her wine into my water when she realized I wasnt drunk like she was. Yeah, I dont spend time with her anymore.

I went sixty days without drinking before I decided to drink again. For me it was like breaking up with a boyfriend and then meeting up again two months later. Never a good idea. Youll never want to be just friends who catch every up every now and then. I drank Vueve Clicquot and it didnt make the night better but it didnt make it worse. I didnt gray out. I didnt break down. That night isnt fuzzy. I could wake up in the morning.

Theres been other times when I drank recently and couldnt move far from the couch. Those times are a quick, slap in the face of what not to do. But old feelings and doubts still come flooding back in. Will I always want another drink? Why cant I just stay sober? Why does everyone make it look so easy? Is my therapist actually Lily Tomlin?

Deep down I know the majority of my problems start and stop with alcohol. Drinking will always be a part of my life whether Im drinking or not. Itd be easier to figure out if I wasnt both the variable and constant in this little conundrum of mine.

Today, I stare all the feels in the face, and make sure they know the last sixteen years matter but the last thirteen months matter even more. Im not her anymore, Im a different, more me now.

Im not 100% sober and I dont know if I ever will be. One day, maybe sooner rather than later, I could decide to sign up for a sober lifestyle again. But right now, I cant imagine midnight on New Years Eve without a champagne toast. I can do without five toasts but one still feels OK to me. So yeahmy relationship with drinking? We file it under Its complicated.

The good news is, Ive learned how to unwind on a Friday night without the trifecta of a bottle of wine, pizza and Netflix. My secret is just pizza and Netflix.

Read more: http://ift.tt/2iTRz6N

from Getting Sober: Redefining My Longest Relationship