#or am I just suffering for no good reason?

[secondbeatsongs]

Food Crime: Frosty the Slawman

so a while ago, I saw this photo going around on tumblr:

at first, I thought this was photoshopped. I mean, "welcome new man in your life"? that feels like a translation error, or someone being silly on purpose.

but guess what! turns out, Frosty Slaw Man is real!

and soon...he will be mine. let's get cooking

(full disclosure: I crafted this snowman and took notes about it over a year ago. and then, like with many things in my life, I forgot about him, and let him drift into the ADHD void of Things I'm Not Currently Staring At, where object permanence is tentative and largely unrealized.

but here we are! and here he is: the slaw man. it's time to share him with you, so that you can suffer as I have suffered, and/or rejoice in my gelatin creation!)

so this recipe photo originally came from Mid-Century Menu (archive link), a blog that seems like one after my own heart, and which once tried to make the Slaw Man (with not much success; but we'll get back to that)! but it's not just that blog that has copies of this ad. I also found it on reddit, and in a few different places on ebay!

lookit that guy! he's a real guy!

both the reddit post and some of the ebay listings say that this is from 1963 (though I haven't been able to figure out which magazines it was printed in, to confirm this for myself). but in looking this up, I discovered something else fun! there's another version of this ad!

Best Foods is what Hellmann's stuff is called on the west coast, and the "this is no place for second best" thing makes a lot more sense when you consider that the ad was probably made for Best Foods first, and then just reused and rebranded for the east coast

the more you know!

anyway the benefit of finding this alternate ad is that the scan on this image is a lot clearer, and so the recipe is more readable! and in looking at it, I've realized something important:

when Mid-Century Menu tried this recipe, they got an ingredient amount wrong.

when they made their beloved Slaw Man, they had the water amount written down as 1/4 cup, but looking at this scan up close, it is actually 3/4 cup of water! something that might make a significant difference, considering we're working with gelatin!

(there's also another change I want to make compared to what they did, when I do this recipe. but we'll get into that in a sec.)

for now: we begin

so. there's no way I'm making a Slaw Man this large. I am just one person, and considering the ingredients of this, I don't think I'm going to be able to consume that much Slaw.

two entire heads of cabbage? three pounds of cottage cheese, a thing that I don't even like to eat? no. that's a bad idea.

so I'm starting small here and making this 1/3 the size of the original:

2 packets of unflavored gelatin 1/4 cup cold water 1 cup mayo 1 tsp salt 1lb cottage cheese 4 cups shredded cabbage

surely this will result in a reasonable amount of Man

...okay, I started chopping the cabbage thinking it would be easier, but I've given up and pulled out a grater. this is much better! and somehow more violent (affectionate)

the recipe says to soften the gelatin in cold water, and then stir over hot water until it's dissolved. I'm going to assume "stir over hot water" means a double boiler, so let's do that

hmmm, the gelatin is very foamy? it’s melted, but the bottom of the pot feels really....sticky

okay. after a couple minutes more and no change, I’m calling this good enough.

so one thing that others who have attempted this recipe have not taken into consideration is the cottage cheese. you see, the others used normal cottage cheese, but the recipe says to use "cottage cheese, cream style"

I’ll be real, I’m not 100% what that means, since we don’t have that here. but I can take an educated guess! so let’s blend the cottage cheese!

(with an immersion blender. I am not willing to wash an actual blender because of this)

mmm, yes. very smooth

...actually. why isn't all cottage cheese like this? the thing I hate about cottage cheese is the texture, so why isn't it all smooth and creamy like this?? I could eat this!!

a new discovery is made every day in this house.

okay, time to start mixing things together.

ah, frosty. I opened a whole new thing of mayo for you! do you feel special?

(I'd make a "pre-dinner snack?" joke, but sometimes I think I'm the only one that remembers Regular Ordinary Swedish Meal Time)

okay, the mayo, cottage cheese, and salt have been added to the gelatin. but as this cools, the texture is getting...hmm. less than appealing.

lastly: the cabbage

oh. oh this is not very nice

next it says to pack the "salad" into a one pound container, and two six-cup bowls, but since I made this recipe so much smaller, I'm going to uhhhh. uh. find some bowls that seem like they'd be correct...snowman? proportions?

ah. this bowl is too big.

hey, these'll work!

now I just have to let them chill for a while, and continue another day.

(edit from current!me: ahhh oh my god I forgot this was pretty soon after we adopted Jackie! look at these cat pics that I took while I was food crime-ing!

look at them having their little interactions! Knuckles was trying so hard to be friends with her! I love them)

hello! two days later and we are ready to assemble the slawman. and my sibling has started referring to him as "frosty: attorney at slaw", so that's fun.

I've done a thing where, as these set, I flipped them around in the bowl so that hopefully they'd be more round. we'll see if they actually stay like this.

I have also made some decorations for him out of peppers, olives, and carrots!

let's build our boy

oh he's so heavy. and wobbly

no no no he almost fell over!!

okay. he's fine. but more skewers were needed.

and...okay. he is complete.

behold!

gaze upon my beautiful man!

(he is not structurally sound! he wobbles unsteadily as I rotate him! there are already cracks forming in the gelatin around where his arms are! don't worry about it!)

 now it's time to stab him

and...to devour him

this tastes like...a bland coleslaw? and not even that. it's just sort of a salty, cottage cheese-y cabbage. the ingredients don't combine to become something greater, they simply...sit there. like this.

and the texture is...mmm. it's not a jello kind of texture, but it is a bit squashy in a way that's mildly strange.

it's very creamy once it softens in your mouth.

...I don't like this!

and look! taking just that one chunk from him was enough to destabilize him entirely :(

RIP frosty. now I just have to see if I can eat all of you before you go bad.

(note from current!me: I could not.

 I ate maybe half of him over the course of many days, often adding other stuff to him to try to add some flavor: bacon, frozen peas, cheese, etc. but even with that, I just couldn't stomach him.

after a while I stuck what was left of him in the freezer, hoping that maybe I'd find the will to consume the rest of him some other day.

do you know what a frozen-and-then-thawed mixture of cabbage, cottage cheese, mayo, and gelatin looks and tastes like?

bad. the answer is: bad.

I threw him out pretty quickly after thawing him.

do not try this recipe at home)

[obae-me]

The Devil's Desire

Nothing like trying to come back from a long hiatus with more Luci content. It's always him, I can't escape.

Warning: This fic contains a makeout scene but nothing explicit, so 16+.

Disclaimer: I am NOT bashing religion, nor am I calling out any specific faith, denomination, etc. It's written to be mostly generic on purpose, and is simply based on a real life experience I have had before. Don't take this seriously, please.

Word Count: 2.3k

With that out of the way, please enjoy some Luci romance!:

To lie with the devil is to wake up in hell. Tender lips stained with debauchery embrace nothing but lies. Tainted is the temporary vice. Lost is the lamb who leaves the flock. Damned is the devoured; the ones drowned in their own sins, plunged into the fires, entombed in brimstone. The cries of pleasure now ones of wailing. Of gnashing their own teeth. Made to suffer an eternity of eternities for shunning the light.

At least, that’s what they say.

And by they, right now you meant the very adamant woman standing in front of you, brandishing pamphlets like they were her very own Ten Commandments. If only 'Thou Shall Not Harass Unsuspecting People on the Street' were one of them. If you had your own rules, that would make it into the top five for sure.

Unfortunately, the lady slowly singling you out from the rest of the passers-by did not share your same sentiments. She was on a mission. Her mission? You. The goal? To wear you down and pester you long enough to join whatever group she was promoting. You’d seen these things enough before to see the danger signs in advance. A clipboard so they could take your name and number. A promotion selling tickets that you’d inevitably have to use your email to register for. All in an attempt to get your information so they could track you down in a less stalker-y sort of way.

“Oh, hello, dear. How are you today?” The hunter was closing in, two teens carrying signs at her side working on sequestering you- the weaker link- away from the pack.

“I’m good, how are you?” Damn your polite force of habit! Curse you, customer service default settings!

She grinned, knowing that if she played her cards right, she could probably keep you trapped here for a while longer. She spoke, and due to the survival instinct in your brain, you were capable of tuning her out for the most part. Something something, for the greater good, something something, special soul. They never meant what they said, or even if they believed their own words, it was undermined by their intentions. You’d been in this boat before. You kept waving your hand and nodding your head, explaining to her that you were busy and had someone you were meeting.

As you stepped backwards, she approached again. “Just one minute of your time! One minute could save your soul from Lucifer’s clutches!”

Without entirely meaning to, the drop of that name made you pause. Every once and a while, you forgot that the person you had come to know so well was such a prominent- albeit infamous- figure in the human world. Although, the way he tended to be described made him seem more like a boogeyman rather than a demon capable of Armageddon, scaring children across different nations and cultures into behaving. Perhaps you should be insulted on his behalf. Perhaps you should share some of the stuff you had seen. Tales of ivory wings and the blinding glow of a fallen angel whose twisted voice now told beings to Be Afraid. With a haunting beauty so enveloping, you openly fell further into the nightmare. That being said, you almost laughed in her face, wanting to tell her that the man she was so afraid of had been fretting over what kind of coat to wear this morning. Black was classy. But blue made his eyes pop more. But red was his color. Thirty minutes he pondered over this. “I’m not all that worried about it.”

Maybe you hadn’t contained your amusement as well as you thought you did, because for some reason, a righteous fire had lit under her sandy open-toed wedges. “You should be! Whatever promises the devil gives you, it will only bring you misery in the end! He cares nothing for you! Only HE can give you the joy you seek.” Her pointer finger raised up while she gazed to the clouds like she could peer into Heaven from down here. It was hard to tell if the dramatics were more for you or her. When she glanced at you again, she appeared spooked, clutching pearl hands at the ready.

An arm snaked around your waist, a hand settling on your hip. If the touch wasn’t so familiar, you would’ve jumped. “I don’t know. I think I bring plenty of joy, wouldn’t you say, love?”

Speak of the devil, in a quite literal sense.

Relief flooded your body, the tension you’d unknowingly built in your shoulders loosening. Even posing as a human, Lucifer was intimidating. At the very least, no one bothered to approach him out of the blue. This party buff seemed to extend to you as well. This lady seemed much less interested in trying to convince you of anything now. She cleared her throat and thought about potentially leaving you one last message of warning, but the man in your company wasn’t having it. He scoffed under his breath before he gestured to some of the other sign bearers in the group, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“Strange weather today, isn’t it? You might want to help retrieve your things,” Lucifer announced. Eyebrows raised. The weather was quite nice today, albeit a little cold. Curiosity got the better of her. Just as the woman turned around, a heavy gust of wind blew over you all, making pamphlets and signs fly upwards and into the streets. Subtle. People scrambled. The lady hiked up her skirt and ran to the edge of the sidewalk. Cars screeched to a halt and honked, people stopped to gawk at the calamity, all the while, you felt yourself being tugged away.

Lucifer’s hand remained on your waist for a few minutes until he was certain the annoyance was far behind you. How much of a mess was the scene now? You turned your head to look over your shoulder, but only saw darkness as a gloved hand covered your eyes. A slight huff sounded off to your side.

“Leave it. This hesitancy of yours is what got you caught in the first place.” The hand moved from your eyes to the top of your head, making you look up at him with a twist of his fingers. “I leave you be for a few moments, and you once again find yourself tangled up in nonsense.” His narrowed eyes flitted over your form as if checking for signs of distress or injury, like the woman was a master of combat with pamphlets as her weapon of choice. Always the worrier that one. He’d have still a similar reaction if you found yourself lost in a grocery store…

A frown crossed over your face. “I did try to leave. How many times do I have to say ‘no thank you’ before someone leaves me alone?”

He tisked, his posture straightening as he fixed the scarf around your neck. The plush fabric was rubbed against your jaws. “There’s your first issue. Manners are all well and good until someone takes advantage of it. At some point, you have to drop the politeness and just say ‘no’. With your entire chest.” All of a sudden, he took two pointer fingers and manipulated your cheeks and lips to mouth some words. “N. O. Just like that. Can you say it with me? Nnnn…ooo…”

You narrowed your eyes a bit at his teasing, batting his hands away. “Knock it off, Luce…”

“Hmm. Maybe I should go get one of those eccentrics and tell them we changed our minds and—“

“No!”

“Ah, see, you are capable of it.” Someone was mighty pleased with himself. Anytime he found himself in a place where he was free from his responsibilities, he always got shockingly more playful. It would be cute if it weren’t so frustrating right now. His hand started running over your head. “Good job.”

“That’s not funny. You heard how they were talking about you… I hate listening to it.”

At your words, his teasing smile faded. Rolling his eyes, he lowered his hands. “I would much rather you save that vexation for yourself and how they treated you. All the humans in the world could despise me and I would not bat an eye.” Suddenly, his finger tapped your chin, trying to regain your full attention. “I only care what one of them thinks about me.”

Something about the sudden sappiness in public snapped you out of things. You turned a bit on your feet and started walking. “Did you check us in already?”

“I took care of it. Did you want to head in now or wander around the town a while?” His partial pout at ignoring his romanticism could almost be felt physically as he matched his pace with yours.

“I think I’ve had my fun for now.”

A hum, and his hand found your own. Clasping it, guiding you to the hotel as you both walked. It was astonishing how such a move cast a level of camouflage over you two. Suddenly, it was as if you both were a normal couple following the regular flow of foot-traffic, keeping each other warm in the crisp air with the heat of each others close proximity.

If the devil was so callous, why were his hands so tender?…

The rest of the walk was a bit of a blur. The people, buildings, spoken words, all unimportant compared to the sensation of having him near. The elevator ride jostled, giving you some more awareness to your surroundings. A short walk, a brandished key card, and he opened the door for you, the very picture of a perfect gentleman.

If the devil cared not for you, why would he bother with chivalry?

The “room” was huge, with an entire kitchen, walled off bathroom, closed off bedroom, and separate living area. This was more an apartment than a simple hotel room. The luggage was already brought inside, Lucifer’s portion already opened and put away. “Leave it to Diavolo to save you the biggest, fanciest suite in the hotel. If the tub has jets, I’m never leaving.”

“Do you expect the Avatar of Pride, the right hand to royalty, to expect anything less?”

“You’re funny if you think Diavolo wouldn’t give you something like this regardless of your gilded titles. Careful, your sin is showing.” You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful nudge.

He swiveled on his feet and poked your ribs. “You dare push me?” His voice rumbled in amusement deep in his chest. “Rather bold to do to such a dangerous demon.”

“Oh? Is that a threat? Going to take my soul? Well, you’re going to have to get through me first.” Fake punches flew through the air, striking at his chest and face with no force. Although you knew real punches would have the same utterly useless, painless outcome for him.

The world tilted, some of the air leaving your lungs in a giggling gasp as he scooped you up over his shoulder. He twisted, spinning around occasionally to leave you somewhat disoriented until you were plopped down on top of the bed, the whole mattress bobbing. Lucifer hovered over you. “You cannot hope to win, human. You’re mine now.”

Something in your chest fluttered at that. “So you win then, is it? How would you like my soul? Grilled? Blended? Braised?”

One of his hands worked on removing the scarf from around your neck, the back of his index finger tracing the outline of your chin. Just a breath away from being in contact. “Let me see…” Adjusting, rubbing his nose against yours, he waited for that tell-tale sign of permission, of you closing some of the distance. Temptation struck you, flooding in your heart. The plunge was too alluring. You bit of the fruit, and the devil wrapped his clutches around you.

Watch out for the schemes of the devil, who prowls like a beast, waiting for the moment to strike and devour- lips whispering inner desires. Raise up your guard to save yourself from being pulled into darkness, into his embrace, limbs aching and craving. For his claws shall tear and shred in eagerness, unable to contain themselves as they remove the body of protective vestments. He will take the very breath from your lungs. Crush the bones with a heaving chest. Partake of your flesh.

Lucifer raised his head for a moment, letting you both catch your breath. Your thumb traced his bottom lip, puffy and scarlet where you’d nipped it. Red was always a good color for him. That’s why you picked the crimson coat for him today. It matched his cheeks, the end of his ears, his longing eyes.

“Authentically,” he said, answering your question you felt you asked two lifetimes ago. His mouth covered yours as his broad hands squeezed your shoulders. “Slowly…” You could almost feel his hum in the back of your throat as he spoke between kisses. “Bit by bit…” His teeth grazed you top lip. “Over the course of a lifetime…” His affection moved on, venturing out and exploring your cheeks and gently over your eyelids. “So you’ll be right here with me… exactly like this… for a very-“ a searing mark was placed right under your earlobe, against a tingling part of your neck, “…very long time.”

To lie with the devil is to wake up wrapped up in braids of limb and cloth. Tender lips stained with last night’s embrace whisper saccharine words. Cherished is the temporary stillness. Beloved is the lamb who measures the meter of the heartbeat of the wolf. Blessed is the enamored; the ones drowned in their own affection, plunged into the fires of passion, entombed in each other’s chests. The cries of pleasure echoed with ones of mirth. Of declarations and vows held tight between their own teeth. Made to persist an eternity of eternities for existing as the other’s light.

For it's his desire.

[transformers-spike]

Being that I’m sick, I just had a thought. In no shape or form do I think this is any bit accurate lol, but it was a fun thought for me.

So transformers are seen as robots (because they are), but I think it’s more important to look at the alien aspect of them. They are huge mechanical beings. Living machines. Being that they are living machines they don’t exactly get sick like most biological creatures such as humans.

Cybertronian’s suffer more from wounds and other injuries than they do sickness. A Cybertronian getting sick is nearly always a death sentence. This is completely different when it comes to humans. Unlike the giant robots, we get sick often, our bodies constantly healing itself. Cybertronian’s are more equipped to handle fatal wounds than we are. What a small scrap is to them can be deadly to humans.

That being said, transformers kind of are shocked when we can survive a mild fever. Our technology to heal the sick is much more advanced than theirs. Watching a small human get something like a mild flu is really fascinating to them. In a strange way they like seeing the whole healing process of humans getting sick and then better. Our bodies are so much frailer than theirs, yet we can fight of an infection that could potentially wipe out large numbers for them.

When you are sick, expect a lot of touching for no reason. Your body is weak from whatever sickness you have, yet they can’t stop poking and feeling. Your movements are slower and you’re less aware now, in a way it’s cute to them. Strangely enough they’d probably also like the smell of sickness on a human…strange but they’d most likely find it fascinating.

There are some bots I can also see getting turned on by this. More funny than anything especially if it’s someone like Shockwave who finds these biological findings too much for his scientific brain and now wants to jerk his spike over your sleeping body. He’s thinking about how much work your body is putting in to heal itself and just gets a boner or something.

Curious to if you think any other bot would feel about it. Anyway I’ll probably forget I typed any of this up later, sorry for any inaccuracies, im too sick to think correctly 😭😭

goddamn this is so good I am a sucker for a good bot helping their human through their sickness scenario I for one am most interested in them getting a kick for taking care of their human in such an extremely fragile state. While bots like Knock Out will vehemently refuse to hang around you more than he needs to (at least you can call/text him tho) - others are a lot more willing as long as they have the time. TFP Starscream keeps complaining about how long it takes for you to recover, but you still catch him holding you in his servos when he could just as easily leave you in bed. Keeps poking/holding you in this state. Dude, you are making the recovery so much worse Optimus and Soundwave are definitely normal about it - just focusing on keeping you company during your recovery. While others want to drive you around even if you're halfway dead (looking at you Wheeljack)

[the-boring-distopia]

I just had the stupidest idea, I wrote up a bunch of stuff last semester (related to genetics and biology, I never got to use it tho :( But I enjoyed writing it) about adaptations and genetic illness. I am interested in biology, proteins and the such, combining the thing I think about at uni with the other thing I also think about at uni sounds fun. My last post about Ianthe and prion disease was really well received so I thought I might write some more in depth posts about necromancy and the Locked Tomb universe. The topics I planned on exploring are:

Dulcinea's Illness, what it might be based on symptoms and the treatments she received in GtN and how it might affected her as a person.

How Harrow might be capable of creating entire skeletons from one bone shard despite it breaking the laws of physics, presenting my theory that the River works as a buffer for necromancers both as a power source and as a temporary holding space for materials they use in their magic. This one always puzzled me and I might've been able to pin down a theory. (There will be a part about why Palamedes and Cam in one body was a problem and why I think they could not be "present" at the same time)

Ianthe's is an another character that is on my mind a lot. In this really cool post by @cemetegee there were a lot of cool ideas I want to explore further and introduce my idea about my other oldest headcanon: Ianthe's potencial albinism, related health issues and my favorite: how this relates to her and Corona's development in the womb. I floated this idea on that post and there was a really good question about why only Ianthe has it, I might be able to answer that.

I really want to make a post about Judith and Varun, because what's happening here is technically parasitism and I really want to get into specifics because I find the idea of it mind boggling.

How Blood of Eden mistreated Judith when she was fighting for her life and they probably broke (potencial) laws about prisoners of war, did the worst possible thing in (almost) every scenario and how terrifying it must've been for Judith to suffer through this, mostly conscious: a medical perspective. This one pissed me off when I read it because it was not even adressed in Nona the Ninth.

About the hole in Gideon/Kiriona's chest (the one that makes her aerodynamic lol) and how Gideon died exactly because it was fucked up and painful and enough a reason for her to be upset at Harrow.

The part in Nona the Ninth were Nona was falling apart on the Ninth, because the descriptions read as if she suffered a high dose of ionizing radiation and the idea that Alecto was able to inflict damage like this... It got me thinking what other abilites Alecto might have (she is the earth, after all).

I might make a post about the murder of Naberius Tern and why I am a bit sceptical that it was Ianthe that killed him (it's a wild ride and just a theory).

I want to explore the limits of lyctoral healing, because I find it interesting how some injuries can instantly heal but others don't. I will reread Harrow the Ninth, collect descriptions of lyctoral healing and compare them to actual data on how tissues like that in human bodies can and should heal. I might also theorize about how necromancy works on living tissue in general.

A post on Noodle the dog because he is a good boi.

[deesseshesca]

PAC: What vibes does your future relationship give off ?

PILE 1

3 cups, 2 wands, 6 wands (reverse), 4 swords

This is the POV of the girl who liked him for a while and your partner never led her on. She fell and never came back to herself while he was waiting for you. Now she’s archiving her thoughts in her work email …

She gathered all this info because his exes used to find a safe place in her. 

From : The girl that was never meant to fall for him 

To : The love of his life 

And I knew the moment you walked in your red, lace bodycon dress that’s was game over. I mean we can always roll it back, all the way back to the beginning of the story. The fact that I never really care for you not in a cocky or defensive way but for the very reason that you are friend of a friend. So in result a simple acquaintance which never allows me to find the time to really look at you like I did these past weeks. Yes, I know it was that easy for you to have him but it was not what I wanted and all of sudden I am envious of a girl that was non-existent a couple months ago. When my friend asked me if she could tag along to help move him, I was all in. Suddenly she opened the door and you were standing beside her as uncomfortable as everyone else. I mean we all knew each other while you only knew my homegirl. I remember looking at  everyone holding the same expression on their faces except his. A flash of intrigue sparkled in his eye. How did I know ? Are u fucking asking me how ? For real ? Like I aint spend the last 5 years of my life looking at everything about the damm man that can’t seem to take his hands off you. I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM BUT SWEAR I AM NOT OBSESSED. He loves when you play with his hair while he rests on your breast. That why he's more of a boob guy, not for some fuck up reason but because my man love to cuddle. He loves holding eye contact with the one he loves while playing with their hand is like the ultimate form of intimacy for him. Standing still and letting the love float between him and the love of his life. He loves having his hand on the girl he loves with possession. Showing her off, a hand on the waist, a hand on her tight for protection, his hands are always close by to remind the one he loves how much he cares for  her. I heard from the grapevine that he loves laying and hand on his lovers stomach when their done fucking which always fucking creep out all his ex. Because none of them were ready for the commitment he seemed to be asking for it. Yeah because that's what he does often, get with girls that are for the streets claiming he doesn't want anything serious while planning a wedding, kids and an old age couple in his mind. He has a bad savior complex with broken girls and they all let themself believe it just like I did I guess… C’mon girl … I mean don't get me wrong you are a catch but so is he. I know you have too much pride to admit it but he's growing on just like all of us. He makes buzz cuts look good and we all know 80% of men that make that bold move overestimate their beauty. Now that he has no hair we can focus on his defined jawline and proportionate face, let's not forget about his full lips. Let me add his pearly white and STRAIGHT teeth because my man suffered through the brace stage so he can charm you today with his dimple smile properly.

SHE HAS MORE TO SAY

[ezrasxfics]

some theatrebunny angst perhaps? maybe gangle feeling as if nobody really cares much about her and jax has to convince her otherwise? :3

(also hi ezra hope your days goin good)

you gotta be kidding me, you have plenty of people who care.

-

ribbun/theatrebunny

-

gangle pov

just.. another day. another day of looking at those fake smiles, hearing those forced words of reassurance. i know that none of them actually like me, so why do they have to keep pretending like they do? i mean, i’d hate for them to hate me, but i also hate them having to lie to keep me happy. i don’t want to be a burden.

at least one person doesn’t have to lie.

i glance over at jax, who’s messing with ragatha, as usual. he messes with all of us. it must be lonely, living like he does, but at least people don’t lie and pretend to like him. i can’t deny i’m a little jealous sometimes - he can just.. get people’s true colours out, in a way. it’s actually really interesting to watch.

he catches my eye, and starts to head over here, causing a small panic to set in me. i like being a spectator, not a victim.. is that cruel? i mean, im a cruel person, so why am i questioning that?

“hey, crybaby, how the hell’re you so down with that freakin’ happy mask of yours on?” he questions, and despite the wording, there’s not even a hint of malice behind his tone, just curiosity. surely there’s an ulterior motive, how would someone like him ever be.. well, not nice, but bearable??

“i guess.. i’m just tired of feeling like a- a burden-“ i stammer, looking up at him with wide, worried eyes. “everyone’s always so nice to me.. and i think they feel forced to-“

“bullsh*t,” he interrupts bluntly, making me flinch. “what reason to those guys have to hate you? you’re a decent person. you’ve not really done anything wrong, have ya?”

“i mean.. no, but-“

“yeah, no. it’s a one word answer, babe, and you’ve just finished it. you said no. so, you’ve done nothing wrong, they have no reason t’ hate ya. no ifs or buts, got it?” he interrupts again, eyebrows furrowed in sheer confidence in what he’s saying. but.. why is he being so kind? is he trying to lie like everyone else-? no. what would he have to gain from lying to me.? he’s not gonna risk his whole reputation just for a joke, right?? but, he could-? NO!! no, gangle, for once you need to take things at face value. he’s being nice. accept it and move on. let yourself enjoy the moment, it might be the only time this ever happens.

“yeah.. thank you, jax. i appreciate it— i’m sorry for bothering you-“

“you apologise way too much. it’s kinda pathetic-“ he jokes, but i can see the lightheartedness in it, and actually find myself laughing along.

why am i feeling like this? i’m supposed to hate him.. he’s caused me nothing but suffering since i got here, and yet, here i am, finally getting along with him? hoping things will change, and maybe we’ll be friends..? or more..? okay, maybe i’m being a little delusional on that part.. but i love the enemies to lovers trope, maybe a little too much..! i’m projecting again..

oh well, i guess a girl can dream.

and you know what they say, make your dreams come true.

<3

-

hey!! i’m actually doing pretty good, thanks for checking in!! i hope you’re good too, and thanks for the request!!

reblogs appreciated!!

[kikizoshi]

I'm coming to the horrifying realisation that if Nikolai stops obsessively loving Fyodor, I'll stop obsessively loving Fyodor while I'm working through what that looks like for him. This is not good. I really need the comfort of blindingly loving a comfort character rn. I can't deal with not loving Fyodor as much as I used to and oh God is this what Nikolai has to go through it feels so emtpy-

In short, Nikolai's healing, and I'm getting worse.

[lazylittledragon]

a 2 act tragedy starring me: i’ve been making fruit smoothies in the morning for a few days which has been great because it’s getting me to actually eat fruit for once, only to go on the internet and be told that it apparently releases all the natural sugars so it's actually Not that great for you and i am devastated

[moeblob]

OC !

[richardsphere]

Coming from someone more on the other side of the fanbase here... Please know that this is all intended to be sincere, and not as any dig towards your personal enjoyments of the show. Im taking the original question in good faith and am answering in as good a faith as i can. -- I think there is a misunderstanding in the question being asked. None of this has to do with the Antikuma, plain and simple. nor even really if she is or isnt traumatised. But that the things that made Mari's stanbase continuously cried "but she's traumatised so its fine for her to be a hypocrite in X manner" were explicitly confirmed by later seasons to be for non-trauma reasons. Now i as far I recall, The show never portrayed her as traumatised. ( even if the dream exists, though i do not remember it, a single dream does not a trauma-arc make) Or at the least, that the trauma didnt influence those of her behaviours that her fans used the trauma to excuse ad nauseum. Mari's defenders used Chat Blanc as an excuse to say "No she does respect CN, she's just traumatised and cant trust him because of the trauma". It was a thing mari's stans inferred (and at the time, couldn't be adequatly disproven) because it allowed them to easily explain Chat's side-lining without making their favourite character look like an inconsiderate hypocrite. But then the show went on, and had Marinette explicitly state that no. It wasnt trauma, it was that Mari is guardian and Chat is not allowed to expect to be anything but Sidekick number 4 (after Rena, Bunnix and Viperion). No partnership, no negotiation, just subordination without respect or agency. Chat Blanc Trauma would definitly have been part of a better show, and it makes for amazing fanfic fuel. But it just... isnt (meaningfully) cannon. The sum total of influence that Chat Blanc has on the cannon plot is a singular moment (an outright plothole) where they have CN suffer a flashback to a timeline he has no way of knowing about so they can write him out of his own story. As far as the narrative is concerned Chat Noir, a character who does not remember the events in question, is more traumatised by it then Marinette. That is all that CB amounts to. as far the show is concerned, Marinette isnt traumatised by CB, Adrien is. Everything the fans use the trauma to excuse was simply Thomas going: "girl power means boys arent allowed to expect basic human dignity, respect or a voice in matters that directly effect them". The antikuma has brought this topic back into conversation because of the suit going pale creating a similar white-cat visual, but it didnt cause the realisation that the Trauma either never cannonically happened, or didnt cannonically influence LB's multi-season mistreatment of her supposed partner. What matters to the people saying that isnt if the trauma was real, what matters is that as far as LB's chat-based hypocrisies are concerned it might as well not exist. -edit i accidentally posted this unfinished. Once more, i want to emphasize that this is not intended as a dig towards anyone specific, just as an observation and clarification as to how/why the people whom are saying that are doing so.

ok but why the fuck did tumblr fans suddenly decide chat blanc never traumatized marinette in any way? like genuinely how did you get that from watching this show? we saw her having a nightmare with him in it— i forgot what season it was— but like… a gazillion things happened since that time. she fought her boyfriend’s dad and saw him go to the afterlife hellooooo? if anyone’s her prime source of trauma it’s gabriel now and it’s very much made clear in the intro. why does marinette have to think about chat blanc every second of her life damn?

also the antikuma thing… i’m not gonna lie, chat blanc didn’t even cross my mind till i saw people making connections. that’s just chat in a grey suit i’m crying y’all decided he’s reminiscent of chat blanc on your own, dont be mad at marinette for not thinking of him 😭

[twobellsilence]

Watched Emilia Pérez to see what all the fuss was about. I might drop an essay at some point, or maybe I will write it before angrily deleting it and trying not to think about this crap ever again, but just know that I am absolutely LIVID.

The people praising this are so hypocritical I hope that when this pompous piece of SHIT of a director decides to make a film "exploring usamerican society" where a school shooter transitions and becomes an anti-school-shooting advocate that helps locate the bodies of missing school shooting victims with the help of other school shooters and they die and become a national hero, and also all the actors are like Russian or some shit and don't even know how to speak English for more than two sentences and also the director refuses to record in the US because "it didn't fit his image of the country" despite it literally being the same fucking country he's "inspired" by, y'all praise him once again for his bold narrative and unashamedly "real" representation. Fuck you

[otome-dissection]

man i miss kazumaji *holds head in hands*

[telesodalite]

Been thinking about idw1's outliers lately, and how sort of wild the whole concept is from a worldbuilding standpoint, and it struck me that most confirmed outlier abilities tend to be really useful, or flashy, or powerfully dangerous, and few to none tend to be like, really boring, or totally impractical, or even entirely useless? Which, doesn't really make sense when considering the fact that outlier abilities are seemingly random.

Surely not everyone who's born an outlier gets something useful?

And I don't mean like, "good" useful, but any sort of useful, even if that means you can kill people with your voice, or give a power boost by exploding yourself, those are still "useful".

But surely there had to be some with abilities that were totally impractical, or nonbeneficial, or at the very least just insignificant or purely aesthetic and pointless?

[thr4shit]

sighhhhhh this beautiful sound

this shit's how we've been feeling. like the instruments, that floaty numb cold feeling but still PAINFULLY borderline aware but unable to like yknow ENJOY?

all we've got left is media. and even that's starting to stop doing anything.

but what the fuck can we do, yknow?

each time this happens it's just so god awful.

and it just keeps happening, over and over and over, with less and less breaks between.

what if one day I can't get out of it?

what if one day we're just stuck numb and cold forever?

what if one day all we'll feel is this numbness and the sadness and the rage?

what then? will anyone be there?

will anyone care?

will we just be alone?

why would we stick around then, huh?

we're already basically friendless.

who's gonna wanna be friends when we have no personality, hell, no existence or REALITY left?

who's gonna wanna be in our fucking vicinity when we're nothing anymore?

that feeling like drowning.

we're ALWAYS drowning.

just brought up for air to get plunged back into the ice cold water for another round.

how long until we don't get brought back up?

[mueritos]

Hey Matteo, is there anyway I can be an anarchist from home? I dont have the means to do things like leave the house for too long so no protests. I know theres donating to certain places but I dont feel like Im doing enough

hi friend! first of all, being an anarchist doesn't necessarily mean youre gonna be out on the front lines throwing molotov cocktails or creating communes. being an anarchist, to me, is living life in the most anarchist way of de-centering hierarchy in your interpersonal and intrapersonal life/relationships, of honoring people's autonomy (and even their autonomy to make bad decisions or decisions we don't like), holding ourselves and our communities in transformative accountability, and to just live life as authentically as you can.

there is of course the political action aspect, but you must understand that everyone is at different points of their lives. when you're in community with people, you pick up the pieces people have left behind, you pick people up when they fall behind, and you shield them from harm and retaliation by fulfilling their needs. You can read as much theory as you want--from adrienne maree brown to karl marx--but you need lived experience and community to see how these theories play out and are informed by life. you can't be an anarchist without a community of folks who are willing to love you, protect you, and keep you accountable.

at the same time, i'm not here to shame anyone. i have certain thoughts about everything and how "allies" have been pushing marginalized communities to speak up. frankly, what I will say is I will never shame anyone for how they survive in this fucked up capitalistic white supremacist world. you are suffering daily oppression from all sides, I can't blame you for not doing much to inform yourself about daily atrocities because you can barely make your rent. but if you have the capacity and are willing to want to do more, just know that you are holding endless knowledge and historical memory of these moments that the world wants us to erase from history. do not forget. donate, share information, talk with your friends, and hold your marginalized communities closer than ever, but the best thing you can do is never forget.

at the same time, this goes for everyone really, but im not intent on pushing the most marginalized voices (BIPOC but especially Black voices) to speak on every atrocity ever when they're already struggling through their own. i've seen far too many BIPOC communities and advocates online be pushed into speaking when they're not ready or when theyre genuinely protecting their BIPOC folks from MORE zionist/white supremacist hate by making sure they respect their decisions to not speak pubicly. again, I don't intend to shame anyone for doing what they can to survive, ESPECIALLY BIPOC communities. It's atrocious that even now racism is still being used to villify BIPOC voices that are speaking in drafts, still processing their grief and emotions, and for pushing BIPOC voices who aren't even okay with speaking publicly due to fear of retailiation (because thats fucking happening!) at the same time, i do think white folk need to pick up the slack as usual and just get off of BIPOC folks' backs.

i hope this helped. long story short, don't shame people for surviving under oppression, do what you can with the capacity that you have, and hold your people close. I hope that helped and im happy to expand on more.

and as always, the anarchist library is the best resource around.

[uncanny-tranny]

The frustrating thing about having good days with pain or bodily irritation or mobility or whatever else isn't that it's a "good day." It's the feeling that you are either greatly exaggerating your suffering or worse, that you're secretly wanting attention/admiration for your suffering. I think people sometimes are confused as to why good days in terms of disability can be distressing to some, but it is precisely that you almost... overthink the Implications of good days.

It isn't that you want to be suffering, it is that you are taught you will only be "worthy" of help if you are suffering in the Right way (and having any good days are often seen as a sign that you aren't "truly worthy").