#silly block man got me crying at 2am

[mimefish]

Scar's win has me feeling all sorts of emotions. How he admitted his alliance could have gone either way. How he continued to embrace being the villain but flat out refusing to kill Pearl until it really came down to it and the fight was as fair as it could have been. How he had so, so many chances to betray people one on one, and didn't. How jumpy and paranoid he was, on such high alert to every threat that telling Bdubs about Etho's death had him scared of Bdubs coming after him on a horse. How he still kept burning bases and causing chaos despite the flat out warfare going on. How he wasn't able to trust Pearl enough to look behind him but at the same time was only fighting her at all because his loyalty got him there. How he didn't realise he'd killed Pearl and kept trying to pursue her, thinking it was some sort of trick. How Grian of all people had to tell him that she'd died, and Scar had won. How shocked he was to realise it. How he stood there for a moment, just taking hits from that zombie. How he didn't understand how the guy with no friends had made it this far. How the villain, all alone, survived. And how upon approaching the Secret Keeper to succeed, he didn't die, not like in every other series. No, his task was renewed. To win Secret Life. Scar might have been the last one living, but he never got out.

[cerealandchoccymilk]

Trigun Bookclub: Trigun Vol.1, Chapters #00-01

all | next

lets fucking do this

I'm annotating every chapter of trigun, both the Japanese original print (reread) and Overhaul 1.0 (first read). Literally just writing down everything I notice about details, version differences, translation notes, etc. and also being gay about the characters. happy pride month

I had other stuff to do today yesterday so I only got through a little bit but pace will pick up tomorrow today (1 volume/week is faster than i thought...)

Here are the beloved non-analysis sillies...

And there are just so many annotation images so I just put the rest under the cut <3 read my notes boy

[edit: why aren't the images not being side by side like i want them to i hate this. here's the url for my blog page with correct formatting] [edit 2: i guess it's only on desktop, not on mobile. so that's good]

First thing I noticed was the difference in the number of volumes, or the number of chapters in each volume. In my JP copy, volume 1 ends at Chapter #07: Rem, while Overhaul (and I assume every version after the first JP print) ends at #12: River of Life.

Anyways onto the actual images

21st of July - !! didn't notice [that the July incident actually happened in July] during 1st read b/c months are only numbers in Japanese 11 hours after destruction - July incident was 2am

For some reason I thought he was standing this whole time. unneccesary details georg

Estimated age: 24 - Official age for his appearance? dang he's young Appearance - "Place of origin/birth," not "what he looks like" The worst kind of outlaw, and an unrivalled killer. - Added in a later version? (not in my JP copy but the phrase is familiar)

This blank space originally had the Japanese translation for the board.

We see his serious expression already! I don't remember '98 doing so this early on so it's pretty notable to me...

Just thinking about how Vash counted each individual gunshot being fired during all that chaos... dear god.... During my first read/watch I thought it was just silly Rule of Cool protagonist moment but not really. This guy actually has Insane perception, either from being a plant or sheer practice. Or both.

Also immediately after all that, I really love the way the aftermath is shown here. The only things you can hear are the creaks of the light and the crying boy. It really brings out the tension in the atmosphere.

Finally, something other than unneccesary bits! If you look at the flooring under the toy gun, the perspective lines are pointing SW-NE. This corresponds to the flooring on Vash's right, whose right arm is also suspiciously out-of-frame... This is definitely the moment he took the toy gun. I can't express the amount of Holy Shit I felt when I realized this. The detail!!!!! man!!!!!!!!!

There's a little translation error here - it should be something like "Even if he were still alive, he wouldn't be able to move an inch!"

One of my favorite Vash moves with one of my favorite Tumblr heritage posts.

This is not really based on any drawn details, but I think this is the moment that Vash readies the toy gun, puts it in his pocket, and picks up the ketchup. Do Not trust this man when his arm is not visible. Also finger still in gun <3 doing his part blocking one bullet at a time

And here we have Vash's first COOL cool moment!!!!!! cue my homo screaming. goddddddddd im so mentally unwell about him. agh I also absolutely love when Nightow does that thing where he screen-tones a character's skin just because. It pops!! It's unique!! I love it!! I eat it up every time!!!

Here's where I realize that Vash's hair antennae are pointing straight up. I should be on the lookout for when he makes the transition to the M-shaped antennae we know and love.

Also, a little untranslatable joke from the Japanese version. In Japanese, this guy calls out at Vash like "And you, don't provoke him!" except it's written with the kanji for "Hunter" (狩人 karyūdo), with a ruby pronunciation note saying "you" (おまえも omaemo). These kanji/ruby mismatch jokes are never not funny and it's so sad that there's no way to keep them in without doing...this lol

The "I counted!" reveal never fails to get me. holy shit. I love the little boy's expression when he gets his gun back :) You helped!!! and you don't have to have the real deal to be cool as balls!!!

Just lumping this with the previous two because it's a tall image, but another small translation error. Rather than being about doing harm, he's talking about recieving it (～～はゴメンだ is a hard-to-catch phrasing/idiom; it's already been discussed with the translator on a different instance). It should be more like "[...But] nobody likes getting hurt, right?"

THE GIRLIES YIPPEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Not including the dialogue because. y'know. At least they get (accidentally) Bonked by Millie :) get their asses

Here, the order suggestion is made by somebody off-screen, but in the first edition, it was made by the cook himself. (left image annotation says "the storekeeper(cook) is so nice!")

That's it for chapters #00-01! I'm going to keep having Category 5 Autism Events every day aren't I.

It's literally 1:20am as of finishing this post because my computer won't stop crashing. Posting this first thing in the morning tomorrow <3

Also, the Japanese copy of the annotations will be in the reblogs for anyone who wants to see them. The emotions are Rawer and they're phrased way less awkwardly... if you can read them lol

[muffimtv]

this even though you dont write rn

🥑🥤💌🌻🧃🍄🪐📚🍬🦷❄️🥐🏜️<- (general art creation) 🦋🐚🐝🌸🎨🧩

YOU ARE INSANE

🥑 - you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?

@fuzziecorpse @bathtubswooo and @h3xrts4-me

🥤- recommend an author or fanfic you love

sing, sweet cicada on ao3! my partner and i loved it so much that i bound a copy for him!

💌 - how many unread emails do you have right now? 

22!

🌻 - tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis

@crikey01 your tag games are so silly i love them

🧃- share some personal lore you never posted about before

ooh fun question!! whenever it rains i try to go lay out on the roof of my car, it’s very fun :3

🍄 - share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

its so hard for me to pick just one pairing BUT currently jmart is on my mind so! i think martin likes having little streaks of color in his hair and jon likes to dye his grey streaks to match

🪐- name three good things going on in your life right now

i got my brother into one of my favorite shows, i’m working on a fursuit, and prom is next week!

📚- what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app? 

a fic idea i had at literally 2am yesterday

🍬 - post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

genuinely i cannot think of oen LMAO

🦷 - share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

learn to sew!! it’ll have you a lot of money on things like hemming pants/dresses, repairing clothing, and making them too

❄️ - what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

i’m always a sucker for coffee shop aus man…..

🥐 - name one internet reference that will always make you laugh

my brother and i always use “empty the compartments of your pantaloons” and one of us will respond “FOR WHAT PURPOSE???” and it always makes me giggle

🏜️- what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

those ones that are like “SCREMAING CRYING SOBBING THROWING UP EATING MY WALLS”

🦋 - share something that has been on your heart and mind lately 

JMART 🔥🔥🔥

🐚 - do you like or dislike surprises?

i like them usually!

🐝 - tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

@fuzziecorpse hiii i love you <3

@notroadkills u are so funny king

@crikey01 YOUR ART IS SO GOOD LET ME EAT IT

🌸 - do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them

my baby bunny easter (she is actually terribly old)

woe, baby be upon ye

🎨 - link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

this martin art. specifically the second one 😭😭 that little image was ALL that was on my mind when i was in my ACT today

🧩 - what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

NO PARAGRAPH BREAKS OR PUNCTUATION

PLEASEEEE I DONT WANT TO READ A BLOCK OF TEXT MY EYES ARENT MADE TO HANDLE IT

[coysgeorge]

Welcome to my brain.

Right so this is weird. For years I’ve suffered with mental health issues. It all started when I was 11 years old, that’s when I realised something wasn’t quite right. I’ve never liked change. Never. I have a routine that I don’t like to break, for those who are close to me they might think I’m one of the laziest and laid back people when it comes to life I’m not. It all started with the process of moving from primary school to secondary school. I remember the first week of senior school so clearly. My mum really wanted me to go to this school called Deanes in a mainly middle class area, I really didn’t fancy it. However she was insistent that I go there. And I got in. I’m certain to this day that’s what triggered all this off. So here I am, a boy aged 11 originally from Edmonton North London (one of the poorest and most crime ridden areas in the UK) who’s been raised on a council estate going to a School where kids were discussing their parents hot tub. The first day of senior school I knew I didn’t fit in. All the other kids knew I was different, I was sat there overweight in a blazer far too big for me, in shoes that were £20 from Tesco with a Afro, whilst all the other kids had Kickers, new haircuts, talking about their parents hot tubs whilst my family had 6 of us in a 3 bedroom semi detached home in Southend. I walked out and went straight to my old primary school by 12pm to confide in my old teacher Mr Martin just to simply be in surroundings I’m comfortable in. This is where it all started. As the months went by, things got worse. I was getting bullied for my weight, my clothes, my mobile phone etc. Nothing that I couldn’t handle, but being a 11 year old lad it still got on top of me. Then the worse thing imaginable happened to me and my family. My Nan, got diagnosed with Vascular Dementia. Now we knew something was up with her, she wouldn’t recognise me, my siblings, her children and most hearbreaking of all my grandad. Within a year my Nan was bed ridden, couldn’t walk, couldn’t feed herself, could barely string a sentence together. This is when shit hit the fan for me, I would literally walk out of school. Go missing for hours, the worse time was when a police helicopter was actually deployed to look for me, social services got involved because they didn’t believe that I was just depressed. They were certain some sort of abuse was going on. It wasn’t. My parents were always great to me. Always made sure me, my brothers and my sisters got what we want. Always. Despite being so poor growing up. The guilt I felt was unbelievable. But for whatever reason I couldn’t sleep, when I did sleep I would literally sob myself into exhaustion then wake up 2 hours later and beg my mum to not let me go to school because all I wanted to do was stay home incase something went wrong with Nan, I was over eating to the point I was a 40 inch waist at age 12. I was literally hoping I wouldn’t wake up the next day.

Then one day I woke up at 6AM and thought that’s it, I’m done, I’m ending it. So I went out to my back garden, grabbed some rope from my dads shed and walked to a Belfairs woods which was only down the road from me. I googled how to hang myself. I was gonna do it, all the way there I wasn’t crying, I wasn’t sad, I felt relief. Happy that in less than 30 minutes this pain will literally be gone. I won’t have to face anything. My best friend, my Nan not recognising me and looking at me like a stranger, the kids at school who wouldn’t even speak to me, this constant sadness will all be gone. I would have nothing to fear, nothing to face just literally a eternity of nothing. So I get to the woods, find a location, find a branch that could hold my weight, and started digging in my bag for a the rope. Then literally out of nowhere this woman, maybe mid 60’s appears with her Jack Russle, and smiles at me the dog approaches me as dogs do so I petted it. She asked me why I’m out so early, I told her some bullshit that I’m going on a detour to collect my papers for my paper round. I didn’t even have a paper round at the time. Then for some reason I just decided, I could easily cause this for myself but if that woman was literally 10 minutes later she would’ve found me hanging from a tree. I didn’t think, but I couldn’t go ahead with it. I couldn’t let someone else live with that for the rest of their lives. So I left, was I greatful for that woman? At the time no, I was angry if anything knowing I’m gonna have to go back to reality after she made me question my conscious after a measly 2 minute conversation that I lied through my teeth in. Now looking back on it. I owe her my life. It’s as simple as that.

So a year passes by, my depressions still there then my mum calls me in the kitchen one day “George you’ve not been yourself and I signed you on the waiting list for belfairs (the secondary school all my primary school friends went to) a year ago, they called today you’re starting Monday” so for the first time in a year I smiled legitimately. The first smile I’ve legitimately not had to force in a year/two years. I’m going back to school with all my pals. I’m elated. I spend the next 3 years being the class clown, getting shit grades, drinking down the park and just being normal. Yes my Nan was ill. But by this time I’ve accepted that she’s gone. The woman laying in that bed wasn’t my Nan. It was a illness that stole my nan’s body. And when she died, yes I was heartbroken but I was also relieved. Relieved that she’s free from any pain and relieved that my grandad can go back to having a life rather than spending every minute of the day caring for her. And hats off to my grandad, he never put her in a home. He was with her every day in his house looking after her. He’s my absolute idol and if I’m half the man he is then I’ll die a very happy man.

So fast forward a few years, I’m struggling for work, second guessing what grades I got on my CV because instead of going to results day me and my friend John went to smoke a packet of benson and hedges down the local park. Not the best life choice but not one u regret.

So I’ve never been good with women, I’m 21 at this point. 22 stone. Bleached blonde hair for some reason. A probably the most undesirable Male on earth. The only 2 t-shirts I wore were this Mohammed Alli t shirt and a smelly blink 182 t shirt with a alien on it. Still suffering with depression but it wasn’t as crippling as before, I had good days, I had bad days. But then finally I get a match on tinder (I didn’t get many back then as you can imagine) so I popped up to this girl expecting she’d reply back then boom, next thing you know I’m in a relationship, good right? Probably completely the opposite. I’ve never been so miserable in my life. I’m not gonna go too deep into the relationship as I’m sure she’s moved on with her life and in a weird way, despite all she put me through in those 8 months. I hope she’s happy. But in those 8 months I self harmed, fought suicidal thoughts daily and couldn’t wait to be dead again. So I’m back to square one again. One day I broke it off with her, I go home. I’m happy again, so I have a job that pays good money, surrounded by my family again and free to do what I like again.

So for those of you who know me, always know how anti cocaine I am. So I’m in a new job. Top sales man out of a team of 60 people. Taking home silly money for a telesales role and I’m drinking. And when I say I’m drinking I’m drinking when I wake up in the morning, I had a vodka bottle stuffed down the side of my bed. I would put whiskey in a flask for my lunch break and put a whole packet of chewing gum in my mouth to get rid of the stench. I’m smoking probably 10 joints a day. I’m a zombie. I wasn’t thinking straight at all. I was having sex with any woman that would show me attention, desperately avoiding a relationship so I’m not emotionally hurt or abused again. I’m a mess. I have a alcohol addiction, then I probably develop 2 of the worse addictions going for the next few months of my life. Cocaine and gambling. So it all started with a night out with some friends from work, being a sales office I knew there would be cocaine but I’ve always had the strength to say no but for whatever reason this time I said yes. I took one line. Didn’t feel anything. Took another, so I said to my mate “is this literally it? I need more because it’s not doing anything” so my mate goes “we’ll get 2 grams for £110, go halves and I promise you you’ll be buzzed more than weed has ever done for you” so I’m sold, if something is better than weed. Why not? So we go back to my colleagues flat at 2am. It’s a shit hole. In a tower block, his Girlfriend sat in the front room furious with him and storms off to bed. We’re listening to house music waiting for this cocaine to be delievered to his door. I fucking hate house music. Half hour later he gets a call from his dealer saying he’s outside. He collects the two grams and he got another two for him and his mrs tomorrow. I ended up giving him the money for 3 of the grams and I’m snorting it off of my work pass still in the clothes I wore at work the day before. I felt like the dogs fucking bollocks. Little did I know at the time I’m sat in a council flat surrounded by a load of filth snorting cocain listening to house music and playing PES. Not even Fifa. PES. I’m the lowest of society right now. But I feel like the Wolf of Wall Street. So I go into work the next day same clothes without even realising how relentless the next 4 months of my life would be. I was spendinga collective of £300 a week on cocaine and weed £150 a week on gambling. I went to the casino with my friend one night, I was so out of hand my friends left me. I lost £2130 in one night, the only reason why I left is because they closed the bar. The people who are closest to me don’t know about that. Not my mum. Not my dad. Not my friends not Sacha. I was a monster.

So the depression is back and in full swing, I lose my job, I was in the most toxic relationship imaginable, I lose my sense or will power all in the space of a year. I’ve been clean of cocaine for 7 months now. I know I won’t touch the shit again. I still have the odd bet. But nothing quite like £2130 in one night. But for some reason it all came crashing down on me the last month or so. I don’t know why, I have Sacha who would literally do anything for me. I’m still getting used to it, she sends me postcards and makes me go get cringe passport photos with her in the photo booth in shops. But I love it, I love her. She’s literally my everything. You’d think that would be enough to cure depression? No it’s not. It’s a illness. A illness I wish there was a cure too. This last month I’ve struggled badly, one night Sacha was in bed next to me and I had to go down to the bathroom and cry for 15 minutes. I don’t know why. I wish I knew why. But it’s time for me to take the right steps and do something about it and get my life back on track. Financially I’m very fortunate at the minute. So are my parents. I’ve got nothing to worry about anymore. I have a strong family, strong friends and a unbelievably strong girlfriend who I worship the ground she walks on.

I’m getting better, will I be depression free one day? Who knows, probably not. Will I be happy all the time? No. But It’s time for me to “man up” as the ignorant people say and take the appropriate steps. I go back to full time hours next week at my job after having 2 weeks signed off with “depression” and going back part time to ease myself in. I’m slowly getting there. I don’t know what the point of this vlog was really, but I feel like it’s helped. And who knows maybe it’ll help someone? For years I’ve been (without sounding big headed) a well know household name on Twitter amongst the spurs community known as a weird vegan guy who doesn’t take anything seriously, but maybe someone will take the time to read this and think “hey if that guy who jokes about 24/7 is like this maybe I’m not so weird at all”

Peace and love my dudes

[wreckedgreg-blog]

the anti-hero's journey (5)

An unwanted mystery guest: Killing John Gee

The welcome speech was boring, tedious and prone to technical difficulties. After the 15 minutes of stuttering, mumbling, microphone feedback and utter niceties, the profusely sweating fat man, who apparently organized the whole thing, lumbers of stage.  When it ended most people got up and went to the talks in the small rooms. I stayed. They were putting more chairs, more microphones and some tables on stage. I moved a couple of rows to the front, still looking around in wonder at all these strange people. Some people with cameras are sitting in the front seats. Apparently there was some media interest for this literary freak show.

Some intern with a great ass puts down name cards. It looks like the photocopier, or printer, was broke, even from a few yards I can hardly read the names on the cards. There are going to be seven speakers.

I look in the program.

Chair: Richard Olafson- Publisher

panel:

Craig Cresent- writer and expert on sincerity

Ronald Twinshing- on-line literary critic

Xantasma Welch- activist writer of the literary blog ”please rape me”

Bernd Flour- professor and literary critic

Joachim Stein- writer and artist

and welcoming our very special guest

John Gee-successful writer and educator

They finally set up the stage. I notice Kessler sitting a few seats to my left. I smile and wave. He raises a can of cheap beer. The auditorium was slowly getting fuller. It looks like a zoo, or an asylum. Barely human rejects. The all looked deplorable and washed up. It looked all so miserable. I feel like “collective suicide” would be the only group activity this gathering is suited for.

It should have started five minutes ago, but the panel is only half there; the fat sweating organizer, who is chairing the thing, a psychotic looking emaciated young man in a black leather jacket, old and tired looking man in a brown checkered suit. The seem to ignore the small audience and even each other. A young unshaven man in a cartoon t-shirt and childish sneakers and masculine transsexual almost complete the panel. The second and fourth seats still vacant. Nobody seemed to pay any attention. The panelist were starting to mumble amongst themselves. Ten minutes after the panel should have started, the big shot, the star, walks on stage.

He appeared taller than he was. It was like some optical illusion; he seemed to shrink as he approached his chair. His imaginary tallness was mainly a result from his unnatural skinniness. He was swaying like a bamboo sprout when he walked and his silly fluffy hair added to his cartoonish appearance. To diminish his clownishness he left his usual side kick, his brother who looks like the aborted part of a Siamese twin, at home. Still, he looked like a fool. He was a successful writer and a total tool. A typical modern eunuch; the type that worships women instead of loves them; that 'respects' his brothers instead of challenging them. A total waste of human genome. One of those creatures that made you question the validity of Darwinism. He sat down and nodded uneasily towards his fellow panelists.

The sweaty man coughed. “ I am sorry to say that Mr. Stein could not make it. So I suggest we get this forum started. I won't bother introduce anybody here, because you should already know every one here or you wouldn't even care.” Muffled laughter.  “So what does sincerity mean to us? As writers and as readers?' The blond fat guy was looking at his phone, the tranny was staring at John, the psychotic man talked to the professor, who politely chuckled. Fat paranoid Richard was sweating even more and was looking desperate. “Anybody?” John looked around and smiled.

“I think we all want to be sincere here. I think we all appreciate what people like Dav....”

“Don't say his name! You piece of shit!” Twinshing, the young psychotic was standing up and foaming at the mouth. I thought he would jump on table and tear John Gee apart. “Don't you dare speak His name!”

The old fat professor was trying to calm down the internet lunatic. With a crazed look the internet critic pushed away the aging academic “Away with you, foul ghoul!” The fat little man fell back in his seat, nearly tipping over, not unlike a studious roly-poly.  Xantasma was body blocking the insane critic

” Back off crazy!” Richard made a feeble attempt to calm the panel. “Guys, can't we just play nice?” He did some weird giggle. “Good job, fatso!”  Some guy is jeering and trowing a paper cup. Richard is gleaming with sweat and looking around  like a caged animal. “Fight, fight!” The crowd was getting worked up. John Gee was getting agitated, rubbing his face and arms.

Who would invite a person like that to a “troubled writers event” ? Was this a set up? It looked like at least one person was going to die as result of this shit. John is clearly dismayed and surprised by the hate. He makes some weird facial expressions and leans in for his mic.

“He guys , relax. I came to check out this scene. … to share my knowledge.... to...”

His microphone was barely on. The feedback is getting louder than his voice, which was less shrill than I expected. Ronald Twinshing in his black leather jacket was hitting Xantasma, almost a full foot taller than him, was blocking him effortlessly.  John was staring at the table and Craig was filming the assault by Ronald. In the mean time the aged professor, the cowardly Bernd Flour made his way off stage, slowly and painfully, like a shot animal. Richard was stuck in a loop of looking at the audience with a retarded grin and a looking in horror at the chaos of his finely selected panel.

Thisd was going to be messy.. Did that paranoid fat bastard set it all up?  I don't believe so: he has nothing to gain from this chaos. No, it was just pure entropy; everything was gravitating towards its basest level. Xantasma knocked over the tiny basement dweller. He scampered to his feet, lunged towards the large transexual, plowing him/her/it into John. Craig steps back and keeps filming, with no  expression on his face. Richard yelps and runs off.

Kessler Laughed heartly, baring his unbrushed teeth. “This is too good to be true!” I saw guys clenching their fists, a fat guy doing a little autistic excitement dance, some other guy flapping his arms like he was going to have a full on seizure.  I grew nervous. The crowd looked up to no good. Yeah, I hated this ass as much as the next guy, but getting charged with GBH or attempted murder is not my my idea of “a good time” or even “useful life experience”. John Gee got up to his feet   There he stood. Mr. Bigshot. The successful writer. Looking like a big lost child. He did not understand where he gotten him self in to. We weren't envious, we were disgusted. The nerve of that insincere paedophile to show up at our little gatherings of sincerity and hate. He thought he could show us “the way”. We would show him. The audience stormed the stage. The other panelists were ignored and trampled. People were grabbing and tearing at John. He was crying.

“Why don't you like me?”

“You suck!” Somebody who smelled like sweat and dead animals was yelling in Johns face.

“Why are all so angry?”

“You are shit!”

“I thought I could teach you guys something about tolerance and...”

“Fuck you!” The Failed Writers Guild seems unanimous in their hate against our Johny, the prodigy, the success. Then suddenly things get really ugly, really fast. It was a flurry of animal frustration and violence. It was pure insanity.

So that is why I am driving at 2am in Kesslers car with a famous writer in the car booth. “One day Greg, you'll laugh about this.” “I doubt it” I snort and try to keep my eyes on the road and the car straight.  Fuck. Fuck. I thought I could relax by embracing writing, not cause more stress.