#this is why i made that post because its not a one time this for this album.. ive seen my trans friends be deliberately misgendered

[dear-ao3]

friends, besties, worsties, davids, and meow meows of the jury. i have a tale for you. while i claim to be no bard (like saph, the queen of very long dramatic tumblr stories that make your heart weep), i must spin a wee bit of yarn in the form of a story. what story? a story of the green cake.

we shall, as most stories do, start almost at the beginning.

the date? january 2nd.

the time? late.

the occasion? saph comes home the third.

the problem? i have no butter or sugar.

now, saph's birthday was recently, so like any other best bud i said i was making a cake. i believe my exact words were 'i'm making you a cake whether you like it or not."

now, gang, i must level with you. this is the fourth cake i've made in my life. i am a reasonably good baker (i can bake a Mean Loaf of Bread), but i'm not a very experienced baker. 3/4 cakes were reasonably good, and only one was just slightly off. so, my track record is mixed, but i am hopeful.

now, let me take you to the present.

i am sitting at my dining room table, typing this post. i am wearing a shirt covered in flour, the green cake is in the oven.

how did i get here?

well, we won't go to the beginning. we've already seen what was basically the beginning, with me having no butter or sugar. the real story begins the morning of january 3rd. which is today. which is when saph comes home, expecting a green cake. as most reasonably well adjusted people do when their roommates parents are visiting, i stressed cleaned the entire apartment at 4am, after realizing the mice in my walls are fucking. i did not leave them a condom. i did not have one that would fit them. i can only hope they have plan b. so naturally, i went to bed at 6am.

and i still had no sugar or butter for the green cake for saph.

and i needed to get started on this cake before 10am, or saph would be here before it was finished.

and i went to bed at 6am. so naturally i set my 9:00, 9:02, 9:04, 9:06 alarms, and hoped i'd lock in when i woke up.

friends, i hate to admit it, but i did not lock in. nay, i slept through all of my alarms and woke up at roughly 9:45. it was cold, damp, and the mice were still probably fucking. i threw my hair into a messy bun, and ran downstairs, only to find my mom was selling me to one direction.

jk. it was far worse.

because saph said she had sent me something.

what did saph send me?

a full poster of david malukas! do i know why? no! but he lives in my kitchen now, providing me with mental support. thanks david!

so, i begin to make the cake after laughing for about 10 minutes about why david is now in my apartment. it starts off surprisingly well. i have not forgotten the salt.

everything is normal.

until i remember.

the cake needs to be green.

why? idk thats what saph said she wanted so i am just going to do what i was told to do and make this damn cake green.

but its now late in the process, and if there is one thing i have learned in all my years of watching the great british baking show with my mom, it is to never over beat your cake.

and my cake, right now, was perfect. trust me. i ate plenty of dough to know it was wonderful.

so now i am trying to figure out how to make the most perfect shade of nico rosberg green, feeling a bit like an alchemist. david malukas is staring me down. my time grows shorter and shorter with each beat.

and then, gang, i had to give up on this being nico rosberg green. i did not want to kill my cake. my green cake. my now mint-green cake that i am baking for saph. so naturally i'm like, okay, time to pour this.

easy, right?

WRONG.

so one thing to know about me is i suck at cutting things.

it's unfortunately a key ingredient in cake making that you have a stupid little circle on the bottom of your cake tins. i cut it the best i could. which was bad. so i'm already fighting demons trying to get the stupid parchment paper from sliding every which way, and then, my friends, i realized something horrible.

the batter had not mixed at the bottom. so now i was fighting even more demons and trying not to get loose flour in my cake.

i think i succeeded. only time will tell. david is watching. the cake is almost done.

i am setting the green cake free.

look upon him now, and weep. the green cake prevails! even though he doesn't look very green yet.

and now, for the hardest part. frosting.

let's see how that goes.

david still watches.

[otomes-world]

Lucid dreaming

I haven't been the most productive writer this year. I'm also late with the congratulatory gift, but I'll continue anyway. This isn't exactly a New Year's themed work. I wrote it as unexpectedly as I posted it today. Thanks to everyone who's been with me this year! P.S. You can put here any of your favorite characters. Happy holiday my dear 0/

The sky was light purple with clouds running past, always hurrying somewhere. There was silence all around, broken only by the sound of footsteps on the stone-paved road. On the sides there were statues of various villains from different fairy tales. Why your consciousness decided to choose them was a question you would like to know the answer to.

This was not the first time you have found yourself in this place. Sometimes the locations were cut out illustrations from a fantasy book, and sometimes they seemed so real that sometimes you were surprised to wake up.

You remembered the very first one from the dream best. It was dark, the source of light was only the lanterns glowing green. Except for the full moon - because, of course, it had to be full - which was burning, a bright noticeable spot, already at this stage not boding anyting well. The road led you through a landscaped park and, it seemed, there was nothing unexpected in this. Until it turned and before your eyes appeared an ornate metal gate, the wicket door standing open. As if inviting you to enter.

In the distance, a castle stood proudly, its sharp towers piercing the sky.

Hearing a horse neighing behind you, you turned around abruptly and woke up. Blinking and trying to catch your breath after the sudden awakening, you replayed such a real scene in your head. As if you had already been there, which was a stupid statement. You were not the type of person running around abandoned buildings and shouting into the void with a flashlight: "Give me a sign!" However, dreams are dreams, and work and getting ready in the mornings were still necessary.

The cold water finally drove away the remnants of sleep, and the amazing dream would have been forgotten in the routine, if it had not been repeated the next night.

And the next.

And the one after that.

Throughout the year.

The bell caught your attention, and you looked up to greet the new customer. It was raining outside, and many people were rushing to hide under the shelter of the roofs of small coffee shops and stores. Yours was no exception.

Well, the cafe wasn't exactly yours. You just worked there as a barista, because, firstly, it wasn't difficult. Secondly, the pay was pretty good. Thirdly… you started working there as a teenager, and now the small establishment had become an integral part of your life. A second home, no matter how saccharine it may sound. You loved this place, and that was only thing that matters.

Usually, the hustle and bustle took up all possible free time and there were no thoughts for unnecessary reflections, but on such a melancholic day with an equally thoughtful accompaniment, it became an exception.

Despite the fact that dreams, against your will, also tightly merged with your everyday life, you could not deny how real they felt from time to time. The texture of objects, the wind on your skin, and even the banal emotions of what was happening. The only thing that kept you afloat was the next awakening after the invisible timer ended. Whatever you saw, whatever place you visited this time, in the end you opened your eyes in your apartment. You walked to your favorite job along familiar streets. You saw the same faces of passersby running through the shop windows to their business.

Everything was as it should have been.

However, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was slowly starting to change. You no longer felt lonely and restless in the world of dreams. As if you were being thrown into moments when someone was nearby. Even though you couldn’t see each other, the suspicion in the subcortex of your consciousness made itself known.

You first noticed this while sitting in the library, whose shelves with books stretched as far as the view could reach. It was quiet and, taking the first manual on flying on broomsticks that came to hand, you opened it to a random page and dozed off, propping your chin up with your hand. Sleeping in a dream was ironical but the sun shining through the window made you sleepy.

The chair next to you creaked, and you instantly opened your eyes. There was no one nearby. Frowning, you left the book, stood up and walked around the seats, peering around the corners. It was definitely a chair. As if someone had moved it to sit at the table. When you returned to your place, you discovered that the book was closed and put on the edge of the table.

Ghosts didn't exist, you repeated to yourself. Although you were actually asleep, so in the world of your consciousness they could be as real as, for example, you. The realization made you shudder unpleasantly, but not from the cold. The desire to return to the previous place disappeared and, casting another wary glance at the book, you turned to hide in the depths of the library. While away the time until you woke up.

From that moment on, you constantly began to notice someone's invisible presence. Moreover, you could swear that this someone noticed you. You simply did not have direct evidence of each other's existence.

Doubts gnawing from within deprived you of peace during the period intended for rest. Until, finding yourself in the library, you walked to the nearest table to grab a piece of paper and a pen. It looked and sounded stupid. Trying to find an explanation for the oddities in a dream was like asking unnecessary questions in a computer game.

"Are you here?"

Leaving a piece of paper and a pen nearby, you stepped away, turned on your heels and left. If the pen suddenly flew in and started scratching something, you couldn't promise that you wouldn't fall over on the spot. The anticipation was driving you crazy, but it was a necessary decision to try to calm yourself down.

After making a few circles, forcing yourself to read the spines of the books, trying to distract yourself, you walked back slowly. The items were where you left them, only next to your inscription there was another one.

"I'm here"

You dropped into a chair and not taking your eyes off the paper, afraid to touch it. You sat there until you woke up again.

A sigh escaped against your will, forcing your eyes shut and open a couple of times, you tried to straighten up. You probably weren't the best employee today, but the work shift flew by unnoticed. It was time to close. Stepping out into the hall and sitting down on one of the soft chairs, you rubbed the bridge of your nose. That incident wouldn't leave your head and although you never repeated such experiments, it was enough to turn your whole understanding of the dream world upside down. It was one thing to travel to an unknown place and quite another to realize that you were not alone.

The bell on the door rang - someone had arrived. Damn it, you forgot to close the door and turn the sign over. Pulling yourself together, you raised your head to meet an unknown man. Although he was outwardly calm, you noticed how interestedly he was looking around.

"Excuse me, sir, we are closed," you addressed him, drawing his attention to you. Something about him seemed vaguely familiar, but you definitely hadn't met before. You remembered most of the cafe's customers. "You can come in tomorrow, we are open from 8 am."

You looked at each other for a while. This gave you another chance to look him over. He was dressed in some sort of uniform: a black jacket and pants, a colorful vest, a white shirt and a striped tie. Then he closed his eyes and answered more cheerfully than you expected.

"Oh, that's too bad," his expression didn't match the bad - for him - news. "I was hoping to get out of the rain."

You glanced at the door behind him, and sure enough, the rain didn't seem to be letting up. A sentence you would never have uttered to anyone in your right mind was out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

The stranger's eyes narrowed slightly, revealing a happy glint in his eyes. For some reason, the unexpected remark rang in your head like a bell, even though no one was coming in. Without waiting for his answer - your intuition told you that he would not refuse - you went to the door and turned the sign over to "Closed".

"I need to close and clean up, it'll take me," you glanced quickly at the clock by the counter. "Half an hour or so. You can wait there until I'd finish but after you'll have to leave."

You did not believe in fateful meetings, but perhaps this was one of them? It sounded cheesy even to you, so you ignored the man who had settled down on a chair near the display case. Of all the places, he decided to choose this one.

With sheer willpower, you forced yourself to get down to work, already regretting your words. It was too late to take them back and throw him out into the street.

Surprisingly, he did not try to start a conversation with you, limiting himself to rare glances, for which you were grateful. If he suddenly decided to continue the dialogue, you would have caught a nervous overstrain. Enough impressions from this day.

You walked over to where he had been sitting, seemingly a moment ago, to wipe down the surface. Then you froze. There was a white paper napkin with just three words on it,

You finished wiping the tables and looked around the hall. As you got to work, you completely forgot about the man's presence. Turning to the counter, you found that he was no longer there. When did he leave and why didn't you hear? It saved you from unnecessary interaction, though.

"I'm here."

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

begging anyone for Vi x reader x Ellie

ANYTHING.

PUH LUH EASE

WUH LUH WUH

i’ve got you bestie you just might wanna have that therapist on speed dial, okay? soz… 🫣

death doesn’t discriminate

Vi x reader x Ellie

Summary: you were never jackson’s best fighter, you never had to be. you were of course taught the basics of self defense, and if you ever were being attacked and it was between you or them it had to be you… every single time. you just never expected to ever have to put those skills to use… unfortunately though whenever patrol goes awry and you encountered a group of bandits you had to, making your very first kill. obviously after the event you’re left traumatized, and its up to your girlfriends to pull you from the aftermath.

Contains/TW: takes place in the tlou-verse with arcane crossover characters because obviously, innocent and super sheltered reader, i’ve seen the discourse but i AM making it to where ellie CAN pick the reader up (because fuck you that’s why! 💜), told in 1st person, polyamory, set in jackson post-joel death HOWEVER obviously ellie didn’t decide to hunt down ms. girl again. mentions of murder, blood, and just gore in general and HEAVY implications of suicidal ideation. ((this is not meant to romanticize suicide in any way, i’m writing from my own personal experiences. if you or someone you know is struggling please get help. you are loved 💜)) Heavily based off of the song listed below including its lyrics that are obviously not my own creation but def wish they were 💔

WC: 2.2k

You think at some point you would grow used to death, it was always leering. Either a subtle shadow hanging by the back door or growing to overtake the whole compound. In some cases it was merciful, swiftly ending your pain through broken pleas or just pure exhaustion. But in other cases, and the ones I found to be most common, it was known to be rather violent.

I was surprised I even remembered what to do whenever the time came. A dreaded audition it felt like as I slowly trailed Ellie’s gaze to the switchblade in my back pocket, the cold press of a gun against my temple. I don’t think I even processed what had happened until I was backing away, staring at the dead body before me and the still warm blood now coating my hands. My breathing came out in startled gasps, shrieking in traumatized fear the moment I felt her arms wrapping around me from behind.

“It’s me, baby, it’s just me.” She whispered, taking me into her soothing arms even though I tried like hell to fight her off at first leaving streaks of blood in the shape of my hands against her shirt. She only held my trembling body to her chest as I tried to hold back the sobs.

‘You made one kill. Everyone here has at least made one kill. It shouldn’t affect you this much. You’ve lived your whole life letting other people do the dirty work for you, you should be able to make one kill. One measly little kill of a man who would’ve killed you had you not acted so fast.’ I guess I was the only one left who didn’t think the world was that black and white though.

~

I felt catatonic as we made our way back to Jackson, Ellie’s arms holding most of my weight. I half wanted her to leave me there, leave me there to bleed and be ravaged by whatever found me first. She never would though, even if it did mean she’d have less deadweight.

Vi never was a fan of the two of us going out on patrol without her. She always considered herself our guard dog, even over Ellie who could no doubt hold her own at this point. Many nights we still spent dozing off against her while she whispered to us that we were ‘her girls.’

“Vi, emergency.” I heard Ellie speak, my head a dull weight against her chest as she carried me through the front door.

“This is the last time the two of you go on patrol without me, I mean it this time, Els.” I heard her seething as her heavy boots nearly shook the whole house. “Is she hurt? Are you hurt? What the hell happened?”

“I’m fine but she… she had to-” Ellie held the words back, not wanting to speak them in front of me as I felt my body being placed on one of the old ratty recliners. Dead eyes staring forward, like every ounce of light had been winked out a long time ago.

Vi’s own soft blue eyes drifted downwards to the dry blood coating my still shaking hands, the quickest moment of understanding filling her expression. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” She murmured, the sentiment enough to bring forth a cascade of tears that I had been holding back until we were safely concealed in the walls again. “You did good though, doll, I need you to know that. You did amazing. Remember what we said, if it’s them or you it has to be you every single damn time.”

I sniffled through the ugly sobs with a shake of my head, I disagreed though I suppose I would always disagree. “She should’ve left me out there.” I finally spoke again after I had what felt like the inability to.

Quickly and without hesitation I could feel Ellie’s hand wrapping around my chin, gentle but firm as she turned my head to face her. “No, you aren’t allowed to say things like that.”

“Why not?” I shook my hand, eyes stinging and burning with tears as I watched her kneel in front of me with what looked like a wet washcloth.

“Let me get you cleaned up.” She didn’t answer me, carefully dabbing at my bloodied hands to wash all of the evidence away. Even though part of me wanted it to stay, tattoo the remnants of blood on my hands until I remembered who I was.

“Tell me why you shouldn’t have left me.” My voice shook as I repeated the question. Push until they finally said the truth. Push until they finally agreed to throw me to the wolves. Push and push and push… “I’ve been nothing but deadweight since I got here.”

“No.” Vi almost growled next, wrapping her own larger hand around my chin this time while I only stared back in defiance. “You are not deadweight, you are valuable and needed and- and we need you alive! I need you alive!”

“Darling, you don’t have to be a fighter to be important.” Ellie spoke next, much gentler than Vi had but still stern nonetheless.

It was hard to find a purpose to live in the apocalypse, I wasn’t sure where everyone found one. I knew Ellie had always had some terrible sense of self importance with the immunity. I guess over the years she had tried her hardest to transfer that to me. Some days it worked. Some days were good, amazing even. Gentle and soft days where I could dream about a world before the infection. A world I’m not sure I or Ellie ever remembered. Some days though, days like today, being reminded of that thought really changed things.

Vi had always been an ‘alive out of spite’ kind of person. Then one day Ellie and I rolled up into Jackson and turned her world upside down and shifted things for the better… that’s how she would tell it at least. She was slightly older, tougher, rough around the edges, but deep down I think she was secretly just lonely. She took us underneath her wing just as quickly as we arrived, all too happy to open her doors for us and things grew and built from there. But no amount of love or care I was given from the two was enough to cover up the fact, if I went outside of the walls something disastrous always managed to happen.

I was just simply deadweight. A bad luck charm if you will. These things never ended well.

“Baby, you’ve just had a bad day.” Vi shook her head as she took my own into her calloused hands. “That’s all it is, my love. We’re in the times of survival now, it’s kill or be killed and… I’m not losing either of you.”

I choked on another pathetic sob, hating myself more and more for every single one. Nevertheless though Vi pulled me into her, muffling the sounds of my cries into her shirt. Traumatized and shaking cries that I rarely actually allowed myself the luxury of, so whenever they came, they came all at once.

~

I fell asleep early that night. Vi running Ellie and I a bath to wash all of the dirt and grime from the disasterous patrol from our bodies. At some point I lost the strength to cry, but I felt like I had lost the strength to do most things. At some point over my sleeping body I had heard Ellie whispering to Vi though, to hide all of the guns, knives, switchblades, anything that could ever be used as a weapon. A mental patient in the middle of the apocalypse. Oh the irony.

“You think she would actually do something to herself?” Vi whispered in her hushed tone while Ellie gnawed anxiously at her already chipped nails.

“Yeah, I do.” She answered with a shuddering breath. “This is worse than Seattle and I- I already thought I was gonna lose her then- Vi, I’m not taking anymore chances.”

“Hey, listen, we’ll take care of her, okay? We’ve got her. We always do.”

“I hope so.” I could hear the rustling of clothes, no doubt an embrace she probably needed. An embrace they probably both needed. And I hated that I was the one who brought them there.

A moment passed and I had nearly managed to doze off again somehow in in the midst of it all just before I could feel the bed slightly dipping behind me. “Just me, you’re safe.” Ellie warned, waiting on my already exhausted muscles to relax before she slid her arms around me from behind. “I need to talk to you, okay?” She whispered against the back of my neck, my heavy eyelids fluttering open for a brief moment. “It’s okay, you can close your eyes. And you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to just… just listen, okay?”

Her fingers gently stroked soothing lines along with arms, the sensation only making my eyelids want to droop even further. “I’ve always had a- a really strong urge to protect you, Vi and I both have. A-And I think you know that. So if you wouldn’t have killed that man I wouldn’t have hesitated. He doomed himself. The moment he laid a goddamn finger on you he doomed himself. And Vi would’ve done the same thing and I think you know that too. Hell, he wouldn’t have even gotten the chance to if Vi was there.” Her fingers slid through my own, a soft yet possessive grasp.

“I know you think I gave up looking for Abby because you were reckless a-and you got hurt and you ruined things. And you were reckless, and you did get hurt but… you didn’t ruin things. You- You just changed things, for the better.” Her lips brushed against my neck, an innocent gesture though had me tilting my head to grant her more access all the same. “You saved me, baby.” She muttered, burrowing her face right into the crook of my neck as she pulled my back in closer to her chest. “I- I could’ve spent my whole life hunting that girl down, because- T-Tommy did ask me to, you know?” Her voice cracked, the feeling of small tears dripping onto my skin, a very simple way to get them to spring up into my own eyes all over again. Just whenever I thought I had been all cried out.

“You- You actually told him no?” My bottom lip quivered as I slowly twisted around to face her, just to feel her own calloused hand against my face. “But I thought you- you promised-“

“It’s not going to bring him back, love.” She shook her head, glancing downwards as if in mild shame. “But whenever you went after me in Seattle and- you got hurt…” she brushed her fingers along the jagged scar slashed into my arm that she was more or less cradling. “I know you were knocked out and you don’t remember a lot of it but… i-it really scared the fuck out of me, y-you know? Like I could lose you. I-I could really honestly lose you and… nothing is worth that, baby. Not a single thing is worth that.”

Tears swam in my eyes as she pressed her lips to the wet streaks that stained them. “You’re an angel, my love. An angel on this absolute fucked up planet and I-I pity every single person that doesn’t get to know you like Vi and I do, you know?” She briefly disconnected her hand from my face to brush away her own tears only to let it snake through my hair as she tugged me back into her chest. “You’re innocent, and you’re kind and you didn’t let any of this take it away and- I hope you never do, honestly.” I felt her chest sinking as she took in a heavy breath and held me to her almost for dear life. Like she was afraid I’d slip away the moment I let go. “No amount of self-sought fury will bring that back… I’ve tried. S-So please, I know it’s hard to find a purpose in this life but… please baby, please stay with me. With us.”

I curled up to her side, resting a heavy head right against where I could feel her heart thumping so softly. The other side of the bed dipped and while I might have flashed back to that moment briefly Ellie’s arms wrapped around me so protectively were enough to pull me back down to earth. At least for a moment.

“My girls.” Vi’s voice followed next, her arm nearly long enough to stretch over the both of us as she brought us close to her with ease. I felt my back pressing against her muscular chest as she settled down next to us, taking her usual trusty spot closest to the door as always.

It was hard to promise survival during the end of the world, even safe within the walls of a community. But for that night I at least promised I wouldn’t do it on my own accord. Someday, somewhere, something would kill me, but it wouldn’t be at my own hand.

No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence.

Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

[fly-torio]

Okay so I've been thinking about this post a lot during my DS9 rewatch and it just struck me how much I miss filler episodes. GOOD filler episodes. The ones that create characterisation and relief. Don't get me wrong, I love In Purgatory's Shadow, In the Pale Moonlight or Improbable Cause or even The Marquis ("It's easy to be a saint in paradise" line lives in my head rent-free) or any of the mainline story episodes, they're splendid, but they aren't what made me fall in love with DS9 on its own. The episodes I watch and rewatch and share with friends are not those. It's Only a Paper Moon, The Wire, Our Man Bashir, House of Quark, Hard Time, ... Nor the Battle to the Strong, Past Tense, Far Beyond the Stars, Doctor Bashir I presume, Bar Association, Trials and Tribble-ations, and so many others... All filler episodes I can't watch The Wire, Doctor Bashir I Presume or Hard Time without sobbing. I can't imagine a DS9 without Far Beyond the Stars. These episodes mean a lot to me for the experience it shares, the recognition I get to see. And they wouldn't be included in most new series. DS9 was so good at letting its characters be living, breathing, broken and healing individuals, and it got to do that by showing how they were also fighting their own battles or having fun. They showed us why their fight was worth it, and what I had to lose. It didn't just lower the stakes, it upped them at the same time because god, please, let my silly little goobers live, I want them to play the next chapter in their James Bond simulation, I want them to play some more sports, I want them to fall in love and utterly fuck it up. And the best part was that the filler episodes added storytelling elements, it lulled me into a sense of safety. It used its time to flesh out the world. Garak's shop blowing up? Can just as well be a filler or a main ep. Bashir getting stuck on a planet with a medical issue to solve? Time to worldbuild something about the Dominion! Quark getting into a scheme that completely spirals? Either it'll give you a laugh or it is the first time the Big Bad get named. I don't want big action sets every episode, I want to feel connected. I want these characters to be people, to live lives, to feel as real in the heartwrenching and hilarious extremes. Life is absurd, bigger than I can ever hold in my hands. Give me back the moments where I remember it is also small and meaningful, and worth going through.

I don't know what those '90s sci Fi TV writers were putting in their shows but I wish they'd start doing it again

[lurkingshan]

Spare Me Your Mercy, Love in the Big City, and the Trap of Pursuing Mainstream Popularity for Queer Art

I read this excellent post by @waitmyturtles yesterday tackling the frustrating failures of Spare Me Your Mercy, a show that was one of my most anticipated of the year, but that ended up so lost in its own confusing blend of sauces that I didn't even finish it. I appreciated her clarity that despite the show receiving strong ratings and finding popularity with the mainstream domestic audience, that doesn't actually make it a success as a piece of narrative storytelling. And if anything, its popularity underlines why it was a failure as a queer narrative, in particular.

Because here's the thing about great queer art—it's almost never popular with mainstream audiences, especially in socially conservative countries. High quality, well-executed, honest and authentic queer art is more likely to be protested than celebrated in places where real queer people are not safe to live free lives. For an illustration of this, look no further than another highly anticipated queer drama of this year in Love in the Big City. Easily the queerest show to ever get made and aired on Korean television, it drew major protests before it even started, forcing the production to release it quickly in one go to ensure it would reach audiences. And why were those conservative groups so afraid of this little old drama? Because even just in its trailer and promotional materials, it was clear this was no sanitized, G-rated drama created to make gay people seem more palatable to the masses (unlike the film version with the same name, which not coincidentally has been much more warmly received by the Korean media establishment). This show was real, and raw, and QUEER in a way that terrified those bigots, because they know one of the most important ways the oppressed can advocate for themselves is by demonstrating their humanity through art. 

Which brings me back to turtles’ post, and the importance of separating the concerns of art and commerce when discussing the different ways media can succeed. This is something I had some good dialogue about with @biochemjess @pharawee @clairedaring @flowerbeasblog and turtles (and even more of you in the tags) when I was still watching and posting about Spare Me Your Mercy. I originally posted to unpack why the show was flopping narratively, which turned into a discussion of the fact that it was getting good ratings from the domestic audience despite this. And while I appreciated understanding how the show is landing with its priority audience, for me, it’s very important to keep a distinction between these two different kinds of success. Especially in discussions of queer art, and especially for a show whose creators explicitly said they were intentionally downplaying the queer romance part of the queer romance ( @benkaben) to avoid “distracting” from their other messaging goals. 

The important thing to keep in mind is that for queer stories, when they are popular with a mainstream audience it’s often because they are stripping any authenticity from the representation of queer people. Turtles addressed this well in her review of 2gether when she posited that part of the reason it was such a phenomenon in conservative Asian countries (aside from the timing of its release in the early days of the global pandemic), was because its presentation of queerness was mostly unrecognizable to real queer people, stripped of any true notion of queer sexuality or the realities of homophobia. Compare the reception of The Miracle of Teddy Bear—a show that absolutely refused to make its central queer character palatable for a mainstream audience, because the fact that he wasn’t palatable was the point—to that of Spare Me Your Mercy, a show whose creators chose to censor their own story. The ugly truth is that when we’re talking about queer dramas, the best and most vital shows are pretty much anathema to mainstream ratings success.

The impulse to pursue mainstream popularity and commercial success for queer art inevitably leads to watering down queer stories ( @twig-tea) to make them more light, comfortable and familiar to a majority heterosexual and socially conservative audience. And yes, of course, some degree of commercial success is necessary for queer art to get made in the first place. This is how the Thai BL market took off, by recognizing that there was an audience beyond queer people who were open to watching stories about boys falling in love, as long as it didn’t get too real. But there is a careful line to walk here, and it’s so important not to confuse popularity with artistic merit. Queer people won’t win liberation by self-censoring queer media to make it more palatable for mainstream audiences. We win when we make queer art so good and so honest that the mainstream is forced to acknowledge it. We win by challenging the mainstream perspective on queer people and how they should behave, not by catering to it. As @bengiyo said in a completely different discourse, the question is not whether the audience can love queer characters whose actual queerness is suppressed for their comfort. That kind of respectability politics is old hat and it never fucking gets us anywhere. The real question he posed is this: “Do you love us when we’re ugly, when we’re sick, when we’re old, when we’re being mean or catty?”

Which is why a show like Love in the Big City ultimately won by being so excellent, and so true, and so undeniable, that it broke through with audiences around the world and achieved some measure of recognition in spite of how very unpalatable it was to its domestic audience. Unlike Spare Me Your Mercy, this show did not get amazing domestic ratings, but its message was heard far beyond those who watched it on Korean television. And that is the point. Making authentic art that advances the struggle of queer people and making nominally queer art that can achieve mainstream popularity are completely different pursuits, and we must keep that in mind when we discuss whether and how these shows succeeded or failed. And while both must exist in a healthy media ecosystem, one will always be more vital for the survival of queer people than the other. 

[marvelousels]

oh fuck you! | 2

authors note — (if u wanna read pt 1 here) meh no one asked for a continuation but its my most liked post so im doing a lil part 2!! also i find it so difficult trying not to use y/n but i NEED to somehow use something to name the reader like...do u guys get me??

pairings: caitlyn x fem!reader

cry baby - the neighbourhood playing!

Caitlyn stood there, frozen, as if the rain had locked her in place. She couldn’t chase after you—not yet. Her feet refused to move, weighed down by guilt and the crushing weight of what she’d just let happen. Her hand lingered in the air where you had been, now clutching at nothing but cold, empty space.

The rain was relentless, soaking through her clothes and dripping from her lashes, but she barely felt it. The only thing she could feel was the absence of you. And, gods, it hurt more than any wound she’d ever endured.

“Fuck,” she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of it all.

She wanted to go after you, to make you stay, but what could she even say now? Every word she’d tried had been a nail in the coffin. Every step closer to you had been a step closer to losing you for good. And the worst part? You were right.

You’d been there for her through everything. Every scraped knee, every sleepless night, every time she doubted herself or the weight of the Kiramman name. You were her anchor, her constant in a world that often felt like it was spinning out of control.

But Vi… Vi was a storm, unpredictable and wild. She was everything Caitlyn had never been allowed to be, and that scared her as much as it thrilled her. She was drawn to Vi like a moth to a flame, even though she knew it might burn her—and now, worse, you.

She finally managed to take a step forward, the puddle beneath her feet rippling as if mirroring the chaos inside her.

“Y/N!” she called out, her voice raw and desperate. “Please—don’t go!”

You didn’t stop, your figure disappearing into the misty haze of rain. Caitlyn felt her chest tighten, panic clawing at her throat. Was this it? Was this how it ended?

“Dammit,” she muttered, running a hand through her drenched hair. She didn’t care about the mud splashing onto her polished boots as she sprinted after you, her heart pounding louder than the rain.

When she finally caught up to you, she grabbed your arm—not harshly, but firmly enough to make you stop. You turned to her, tears streaming down your face, blending with the rain, and it shattered her all over again.

“Just listen,” she pleaded, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry, alright? I’m so sorry for making you feel like you’re not enough—because you are. You always have been.”

You pulled your arm away again, this time with less anger and more exhaustion. “Then why, Cait? Why do you keep doing this? Why do I feel like I’m always the second choice?”

She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re not second choice. You’re everything. I just… I don’t know how to make sense of all of this, and I hate myself for it.”

Her hands trembled at her sides as she looked into your eyes, her own brimming with tears. “But losing you? That’s the one thing I know I can’t survive. Please, Y/N, don’t let me screw this up. Don’t let me lose you.”

You hesitated, your lips parting as if to speak, but the words caught in your throat. For a moment, all that filled the space between you was the sound of the rain.

Then, quietly, you asked, “What do you want, Caitlyn? Right here, right now, what do you want?”

Caitlyn’s heart stuttered. She stepped even closer, her voice barely audible but unmistakably certain.

“You,” she said, her voice cracking. “I want you.”

The rain drummed steadily around you both, a symphony of chaos that somehow made the world feel still. Your eyes locked with hers, searching for any hesitation, any lingering doubt. But for once, Caitlyn’s gaze held only certainty—no broken compass, no wavering. Just you.

Her hand moved slowly, trembling as it reached up to cup your cheek. You didn’t pull away this time. Her touch was tentative, almost afraid you’d shatter beneath her fingers, but when you didn’t, her thumb gently brushed against your damp skin.

“Y/N…” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rain. It was laced with so much—apology, longing, love.

And then, she closed the distance.

Her lips found yours softly at first, almost hesitant, as if asking for permission. But when you didn’t resist—when you leaned into her instead—the hesitation melted away. The kiss deepened, urgent and raw, as though it could somehow undo all the hurt, all the unspoken words that had lingered between you for so long.

The world around you faded—the rain, the cold, the ache in your chest—all of it dissolved into the warmth of her lips, the way she poured every ounce of herself into the kiss. Her other hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer, as if she were afraid you might slip away again.

You finally broke apart, just enough to catch your breath, her forehead resting against yours. Both of you were panting, rainwater and tears mingling on your faces.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, her voice hoarse but sincere. “For everything.”

You shook your head, your hands clutching at the lapels of her soaked jacket as if anchoring yourself. “Just… don’t make me regret this,” you murmured, your voice breaking slightly.

“I won’t,” Caitlyn promised, her voice firm now. “I swear, Y/N. No more doubts, no more running. Just you.”

And then, with a small, tentative smile breaking through the tears, you pulled her into another kiss, this one slower, softer, as if savoring the moment. For now, the storm didn’t matter.

All that mattered was this—her, you, and the fragile, beautiful hope blooming between you.

[c-schroed]

Why Not Watch Some Movies Set in 2025?

Another new year has just begun, and I love to start it with a look back to how some people years ago envisioned this specific year to be (just like last year). So, I'll share with you my list of movies set in the year of 2025, based on this gorgeous Wikipedia list.

Of course, some of the movies listed there don't provide much of a vision, because they're set just a few years in the future. So, I'll focus on movies that are at least ten years old, reducing my Get Ready For '25 watchlist to 11 entries. Future me will edit this post, adding a quick review to each film after I've watched it. So, let's have a look at the movies, after the cut.

Endgame (Original title: Bronx Lotta Finale). The oldest entry in the list comes from 1983, and it shows us a run-of-the-mill post-apocalyptic New York. Seemingly, some nuclear war has happened (around 1990, as a clever Wikipedia writer deduces based on the technology shown in the film), leaving a wasteland filled with scavengers and telepathic mutants. Oh, and hunters and gladiators who fight to death for a TV show called Endgame. A Boy And His Dog meets The Running Man, as it seems. One could start worse, I guess, though the writer/director worked under a pseudonym for this, which I admit is not the best of omens. PS: I usually look at places like Youtube and Dailymotion if someone uploaded some of the older flicks, and on this lil quest I among others found a German dubbed version with Hungarian voice-over of this originally Italian flick. So if you happen to understand Hungarian (I don't), have fun with this truly pan-european edition!

Future Hunters. A movie from 1986, and yet another post-apocalyptic world. Some rebel group search for the Spear of Destiny, which allows them to travel back in time. So, I'm afraid most of the film will not happen in 2025, but 39 years earlier, where the Spear has to be reunited with its shaft (the Shaft of Destiny, I guess?) to break its curse. Or so. Raiders of the Lost Ark seems to meet Terminator, here. And we even have Robert Patrick in one of his first leading roles, five years before becoming a real Terminator.

Futuresport. This one is from 1998, and it was made directly for TV. The eponymous sport of the year 2025 is a mix of basketball, baseball and hockey that uses hoverboards and rollerblades, and it is used as a less lethal alternative for gang warfare. Specifically, this sport shall be used to decide who will rule over the Hawaiian Islands. When looking at this synopsis, I can't stop thinking about one of my favourite movies, the 1975 sci-fi classic Rollerball. This one is set in the year of 2018, so maybe I can spin me some head canon that has Futuresport developing from Rollerball. We'll see.

Timecop 2: The Berlin Decision. A 2003 direct-to-video sequel to the Jean-Claude Van Damme flick of 1994. Timecop part one was set in 2004, and 21 years later, in the sequel, some guy is sent to Berlin of the past. To kill Hitler. Oh my. This could be quite the ride. I think I watched part one when I was young, but I can't remember much. So maybe this year is a good opportunity for a rewatch of this Van Damme flick - though I don't think it will be needed to understand part 2. The double feature DVD box is cheap to get, so we'll see.

Negadon, the Monster from Mars. A 2005 animated kaiju short film from Japan, wherein a mars mission brings some monster back to earth. Which of course has to be fought with some huge robot. Sounds okay, and we're talking about 25 minutes to spend. So why not.

Repo Men. A 2010 film that shows us a 2025 where bio-mechanical organs are rented to people in need. If they can't afford the organs any more, well, the repossession is quite bloody. So basically it's 2008's Repo! The Genetical Opera, but without the cool singing. I watched this movie when it was in cinemas, and it was okayish. So, time for a rewatch.

Zebraman 2: Attack on Zebra City. Some Japanese superhero flick from 2010, of course it's a sequel to a film called Zebraman, from 2004, wherein a teacher starts to fight crime in the costume of his childhood TV hero. The sequel is set 15 years after part one (so yes, Zebraman 2 is produced in the year that Zebraman 1 is set in), and Tokyo is renamed to Zebra City and now has a "Zebra Time", a daily period of five minutes where all crime is legal, but presumed criminals will be attacked by the "Zebra Police". This could be hilarious, The Purge on speed (before the first part of The Purge even existed!), but I'll keep my expectations low. And I'll try to watch part one first, because Zebraman 2 seems to use a lot of its characters.

Pacific Rim. A 2013 instant classic. In 2025, giant kaijus must be fought with giant mechas (just as in Negadon; see above). Gosh, I love this one, but spouse hasn't seen it yet. And is highly sceptical. But when if not this year should one give this a try, right?

Hot Tub Time Machine 2. Four guys are sent ten years into the future by the eponymous bathing device, to find someone who tried to kill one of them. I absolutely did not like the first part, so I really feel tempted to skip this.

Mountains May Depart. A 2015 Chinese drama spanning a time from 1999 to 2025. The synopsis is full of love-triangles and family drama, so I don't suspect much of a vision of the future. Plus, it seems to be rather hard to get, so maybe I'll skip this one, too.

Ten Years. Also from 2015, this movie from Hong Kong speculates about what the semi-autonomous Hong Kong will be in ten years from then, with human rights and freedoms gradually diminishing as the influence of the Chinese government increases. I'm very curious about this one!

[haute-honey]

astro observations rant post tbh

I don't think any other Venus sign truly deserves to be with a Scorpio Venus. Not a single one of you is up to par and you know it too. Scorpio venuses settle each and every time they get romantically involved with someone who is not also a scorpio venus (or at least has their Venus in 8H).

Capricorn placements love acting resentful towards you once they realized they can’t give all the things they promised to give you even though you never fucking asked them for anything in the first place. They just love messing up their own credibility sometimes. They’re the type to introduce you to a vibe they can’t maintain lol

this isnt a observation but why are yall making asteroid posts and not including the damn number of the asteroid in question??????

People only call Libras liars (lazy af at this point) because there is really not much else negative to say. But the gag is.. EVERYBODY lies. Every human who understands how human nature and human interactions work knows that you have to lie (and lie often) in order to maintain harmony socially. We lie to our friends, we lie to our family, we even lie to ourselves. So hang this take up PLEASE DEAR GOD.

Adding on to that, Libras truly are just mirrors to what people refuse to face about themselves. 🙃 If you were throwing the evil eye at them they gave you that mean girl energy for sure bc they knew something was up with you. If you came at them on some fake shit, they gave that energy right fucking back.

We all have a right to self determination... correct? With that being said its totally fine that some of us possibly won't experience love/romance/relationships in this lifetime. (Especially for the het girlies) Its fine that you can often see that in a chart. You don't have to try to appease to the girls with "harsher" aspects or placements in their chart. Plus, I see a lot of astrology girlies contradict themselves multiple times in their posts in the name of trying to bullshit around the truth. Some of us were put on this earth for self focus, growth and exploration alone. And that's okay.

A lot of us simply aren’t exciting enough to date Gemini/Sagittarius/Aries/Aquarius placements and that’s okay! Let ‘em date each other.

It’s hard getting to know a Scorpio moon because getting to know them involves knowing the trauma that they’ve endured because it’s probably 90% of their story and what’s made them who they are. And that’s a lot to drop on someone on a first date or when you’re first getting to know someone…. Or even the first year of knowing someone. TW Sorry they didn’t want to tell you they were sexually assaulted when they were a kid and that turned their life upside down for the absolute worst...

Libra placements don’t have mean girl energy, they have older sister energy. You know, the older sister who you wanted to be so badly, you wanted to look like her, dress like her, act like her, etc and she was “ mean” to you bc you were her little annoying ass sibling lol but every now and then she’d be nice and let you put on some of her makeup. It’s that kind of energy.

I take a lot of what others say about synastry with a huge grain of salt because its not the synastry placement or aspects that caused the negative outcome babygirl, the relationship was doomed from the start. You had to convince yourself to even find him attractive in the first place just because he showed you romantic attraction and a lot of yall just have very low standards.

Having an aquarius moon must be like naturally having SSRIs running through your synapses at all times... must be nice..

Cancer placements are not sensitive in the empathetic, feeling what others feel kind of way. They are sensitive in a "if you do something that hurts me I will crash the fuck out on you and take it to hell no matter the degree of what you did to me" kind of way. This could be applied to all the water signs but no one does it like Cancer.

Definitely not stamping this as a solid observation but i'm noticing that people tend to form quick crushes on people who have their sun sign in the sign of their venus sign. However, they do not last... let me find out that sun-venus synastry conjunction ain't all that...

IDK why people go back and forth about Beyonce not being a Libra rising when the writing is literally on the wall (pun intended lol). Mama is definitely a Libra rising. Aside from that Venus being in the 1st and her being absolutely beautiful and curvaceous, her scorpio moon is in her second house and miss thang is very hush hush about her finances. The most you'll get outta her is her being bragging a bit in her songs but other than that, she refuses to give any accurate estimate of her wealth lol Iktr

I think people are more obsessed with scorpio venuses being obsessive than scorpio venuses actually being obsessive themselves. When speaking of scorpio venus, people fail to mention that it is hard for this placement to even like or love people to the point they're obsessed with them. They rarely like people enough to even like them like that. Actually, you have more of a chance of them disliking or hating you than you do them being romantically liking you or being obsessed with you.

Virgo suns (tropical/sidereal) have such a short tolerance for stupidity or people acting confused lol They get irritated fast when people don't catch on quickly. Unevolved, they are the type to make you feel really dumb for not understanding something.

Y'all want libra placements to be jealous soooo bad lol that's not how emotions and characteristics work. You can't project an emotion you want an entire group of people to identify as to make yourself feel better about YOU feeling that way. I swear jealousy makes the girlies act like weirdos. It's okay to be obsessed, I promise. I am too 🙃

I'll admit it, I used to look at a lot of the sagittarius suns I would meet and interact with sideways for some of their viewpoints on things until I recently realized something about them. A pattern I noticed about them is that during their upbringing, others around them (usually adults) will project their own toxic/problematic beliefs onto them intensely. That Jupiter influence is kinda of dangerous, beneficial for sure but kind of dangerous too.

I'm glad someone else made a post about how ridiculous some of the astrology "observation" posts can get because some of you get really out of line. I try to give a lot of grace bc I notice that a great majority of you are younger than 22 and that frontal lobe is not even near done baking but I wish that y'all would really sit with some of the things you're writing before deciding to post certain things. I remember writing in my last astrology post about how some of you believe people with prominent libra placements are lgbt+... never got an answer 🙃

Keeping the rant going, can we stop with the mad specific ass observation posts. I feel like we've lost the plot on astrology observations. Like why the fuck are you posting observations about Neptune in Aquarius in the 8th house cusp in a chart with a Libra stellium and a grand trine.............. girl if you don't gtf! If you want to talk about someone you know or yourself just say that!

With all that being said, I feel that it is important for those interested in astrology to seek information and education outside of Tumblr. Specifically from older astrologers. Not to come across as ageist against young people who are into astrology but some of the takes you guys tend to have do come off as you needing to live a little bit more and get more experience before judging certain placements/aspects/signs.

"most people i know with [insert a random negative stereotype about a natal aspect based on a few personal experiences with ppl here]" okay... wtf do you want the rest of us with this aspect in our charts to do about it? Like what do you hope to accomplish when you make posts like this? Seriously....?

For the sake of time, I'll leave y'all with this video of an astrologer I truly respect with her viewpoint on astrology and the shit that we need to leave in 2024, all of which I wholeheartedly agree with.

Till next time hoes, happy new year!

[rainbow-sunshine-unicorn]

A long time ago, after I posted my Neddy learns about Anthony’s Dad Lore drabble, I got an anon ask for more “grown ass Kanthony”. I can’t find the ask now and this soooo late, but I hope you still enjoy some geriatric Kanthony!!!

Anthony couldn’t quite remember how it started. He didn’t know when he began collecting them like tokens. The creases next to Kate’s eyes deepening when she smiled, the hints of grey peaking out as he ran his fingers through her soft luscious hair. Signs of a life well lived, a happy one, a long one. And he collected each bit, every time he managed to catch a glimpse, he stored them in his heart, to thank the lord, the universe, or whatever divine entity had granted him the privilege of not just growing old, but growing old with Kate.

Once upon a time, before Kate, when his life was just somehow… less, less vibrant, less joyful, less worth living, he remembered panicking upon finding a singular strand of grey hair sprouting right at the crown of his head. It had seemed like an ugly reminder that the finish line was approaching and he was not fast enough to outrun it. He did not have his affairs in order, the arrangements for the estates were still incomplete and his plans for his tenants were still unfinished.

But now, much like everything in his life after Kate, including his own self, it was different. Nowadays, the white hair was an excuse for him to tease his youngest son that his mischief was turning his father grey. Every ache was an excuse for his daughter to offer to kiss it better. Every ache was an excuse for his oldest to playfully rib him. Signs of a life well lived.

However, he still knew that his wife carried them off much more gracefully.

Which is why when he came upon Kate laid down in the middle of the day, with a physician at her bedside, he felt the once familiar fear creep through him, numbing him from fingers to his toes, chilling his heart. He couldn’t help but wonder if his gratitude had come across as gloating and now Kate was being punished for it. He felt frozen, unable to move, step over the threshold of his bed chamber and face whatever grotesque reality he met there.

His eyes were trailing frantically around the room when his gaze collided with Kate’s. The hum of panic in his brain cut off abruptly.

Because his wife was blushing. A fascinating shade of purple under the warm brown of her skin. He had seen it before but each time, he still felt as fascinated as he had the first time he’d seen it.

A few weeks after their wedding, after many letters to Mary and an unreasonable amount of visits to an ambassador from India, he had finally learnt to say I love you in Kate’s native tongue of tamil. One day, as they lazed around their favourite drawing room at Aubrey Hall, after supper, he’d said it, rather abruptly, clumsily forming the words just as he’d practiced. And then Kate had giggled, the sweetest little laugh he’d ever heard, flushed that beautiful hue of purple he would swear was his favourite colour till the day he died, and, buried her face in his shoulder. He felt thrilled, fascinated, enchanted. He finally understood the concept of eureka his philosophy professor at Oxford had tried so hard to teach him.

Later, when his chest was no longer so puffed with pride that his waistcoat was in imminent danger of bursting open, Kate would tell him that it felt more intense when he said it in tamil, excessive in its devotion. And he’d rush to assure her that he meant it in an excessively devoted and besotted manner, and then Kate would smile in a way that made her eyes shine and made her lips look kissable.

Shaking off that pleasant memory of one of the best days of his life, he blinked at Kate.

The physician, a crotchety old man who’d tended to all the Bridgertons at Aubrey Hall, for many years now, simply cleared his throat, bowed to him and walked out with remarkable speed. Momentarily distracted from Kate, Anthony frowned at his retreating figure.

But then as always, he turned back to Kate. Who was now smiling a secret smile at him, eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

“You’re going to have to buy 50 more dolls to keep things fair ”

And just like that Anthony’s list of signs of a life well-lived, his forever with Kate, grew exponentially longer.

[fountain-of-oceanus]

OK! WE ARE BACK WITH MORE TPOT SPECULATIONS!!

spoilers for TPOT 15 specifically!!

post-credits, there is a clip of the victims one has taken traveling this.., blue field of yellow flowers

i first want to prove that this is most likely “one’s territory,” similar to how four and two have the EXIT and elimination place respectively.

i mean, it has this space-related obelisk, for crying out loud. but WAIT there’s more!

the kidnapped contestants find The Door. the design of this door will be important later, but for now i want to focus on where it leads!

it leads to the equation playground. now, where else have we seen mysterious doors relating to an algebralien leading to the equation playground before?

in the EXIT!

which further makes me want to believe that if four has a door (haha. that rhymed) to the equation playground, then what are the odds that one ALSO has one?

but that raised another question as i was typing this out.., why DO the doors lead there?

because the equation playground is on this math planet (which is what i’ll be calling it for now) so the equation playground couldn’t be like. another universe of sorts

and its clear that’s where the algebraliens live because in tpot 15, nine showed up to host instead of two.

i cant really figure out this one, as not much has been revealed about the math planet— or the algebraliens —to even know how these doors just magically lead there.

but TL;DR, the flower field in the post-credits scene has got to be related to one in some way, maybe an extension of her little deal-making room!

secondly, i now want to talk about The Door. take note of these diamond symbols on it

now, it could all just be coincidence, but it’s weird that this isn’t the first time we’ve seen diamonds related to algebraliens..,

these diamond symbols also appear around one and two’s little camera-powers!

there is also a diamond-shaped magnet holding up four’s fridge photo here. at first i assumed it was just because it has four sides and four angles, like four, but im starting to kinda doubt myself

i feel like these might represent some kind of power??? perchance??? they wouldn’t have just made these diamond symbols so prevalent for nothing.

this is less of a theory and more of an assumption, but I believe the diamond symbols are connected to algebralien powers in some way.

anyway thats all for now . this a really stupid tangent i needed to go on but i think it’s going somewhere!!!

[6qubed]

fair enough, that's what I've been doing. and yeah, I did the bumper-sticker snappy comeback thing, which was not cool. apologies.

let's recontextualize. first point of order, every human is a human, be they man, woman, white, black, gay, straight, pick your fucking adjective. we're all humans. we're the same. that sounds fairly obvious on the face of it, but remember that dehumanization and othering- that "Us vs. Them" shit- are the tools of bigots; note what I said there, not fascists, bigots. we'll never truly be free of the taint of Godwin's Law, but we haven't gotten to them yet. not yet. soon, though. but back on track, this does respond to that thing you wrote; women and fascists are the same, because there is literally nothing separating them from any other group of humans on the planet. nothing that matters, anyway. (and if that thought pisses you off, hey it pisses them off too. one more thing y'all got in common)

second point, no person ever thinks of themselves as a "bad person". we're getting dangerously close to discussions of morality here (and I have a bias anyway because I'm an antinihilist and morality doesn't exist. neither does holiness, since you mentioned it) but my point is no person ever does "the wrong thing" on purpose. if they do, they either think they're being "wrong for The Right Reasons", i.e. telling those mormons that rocked up to your doorstep that you can't go to church with them next sunday because that's when you're hosting a gay satanic orgy, three things that a religious person would find objectionable and that's why you're saying it, or (and this is the dangerous one) they think they "didn't have a choice", i.e. that "look what you made me do" shit that a domestic abuser would say after she slapped her husband around for buying another woman flowers (his mother, for Mother's Day).

third point, building off the second, is that once a person's got it in their heads that they're a "victim" being "oppressed", it's real easy for anything and everything they do to be "protecting themselves and/or fighting back" and anything their "oppressor" does as "oppression". okay, let's go back to the fascists now: you've no doubt seen that "1488" dogwhistle that every dickhead tries to use to be "clever", right? ignore the 88 for a second; that 14 is a reference to "The Fourteen Words", a slogan for white supremacy. now consider what those fourteen words actually say. it's actually the first half of an entire slogan broken up by a comma: "We must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children, because the beauty of the White Aryan woman must not perish from the Earth." do you see it? they think all that awful shit they've been doing this whole time is an act of protection. they think they're under attack. any act of cruelty they commit might be regrettable, on its face, but really in their minds they don't have a choice. because they're being oppressed. they're being run out of their homes, having their money and their jobs and their opportunities and their futures taken away, by their oppressors. hell you want a less dramatic example? remember all that fuss everyone was making years ago about "manspreading"? when Men's latest act of oppression against feminists All Women Everywhere was sitting comfortably on public transit? "How dare they take up Our Space! it's supposed to be for those who truly need it! what's next, Men in Women's bathrooms??"

there is nothing separating you from that. nothing makes you better. nothing makes you "special". and nothing makes you any different from me. or anyone else. nothing at all. the idea that you are somehow above that sort of thinking is a trap, and the minute you think that being harmed gives you justification for doing harm in return, you've fallen in. as for "just making jokes", well first of all go back and reread OP's posts, and second consider how burned you'd be or have been by men making "women jokes"

i see "men bad" jokes as very similar to suicide jokes. like making them every once in a while isn't the worst thing, but if you Keep making them constantly. it DOES shape how you start thinking and you WILL become a more unpleasant and bitter person and also make people around you uncomfortable. and sometimes you just gotta choose to not make or engage with certain jokes, even if they are amusing to you, because its just not who you wanna be

[zachsanomaly]

Alright it's time

I've said it before but I'm gonna rehash it again

How is it police forced Luigi Mangione to wet himself by denying him the right to use the restroom, and then took photos of him standing there, in his pissed pants, posed in front of the toilet they denied him, just to humiliate him, posted photos, AND NO ONE NOTICED BECAUSE "HOLY FUCK, HE'S HOT"

He has no bad angles, he has no unphotogenic photos from anywhere in his life, random stills from videos are hot, mid scream he's hot, he has no unattractive expressions, he even kisses photogenically like a Disney prince

foxnews lied and told people his dick didn't work and they still wanted it. This man is a cryptid that can't be broken. They've posed and staged him in every negative way they can think of and it didn't work. He had a good damn unibrow and everyone was READY to get in his pants. This man cannot be human. They can't even humiliate him because he's immune.

This is a certified SCP creature we're dealing with and he must be studied.

They put his fucking photo up as a way to get people to turn him in and everyone just made it their icons and phone screens because even blurry cctv photos were hot /he was arrested because the moment he stepped in the door of the mcdonalds everyone began talking out loud about how he looked and wondering if it was him and he didn't even resemble the cctv footage at all they just couldn't stop gawking at him/ he's too powerful even the people who hate him, the CEOs, can't stop thinking or talking about him, he has shaken them to their core, he is a brainworm you cannot get rid of

They put this man in prison and every single prisoner fell in love with him SO THEY PUT HIM IN ANOTHER PRISON AND IT HAPPENED AGAIN

Like I'm only half joking, and this is of course a shitpost about a serious case and topic. But the press had to be told to stop showing images of him because it's somehow making his global influence stronger. He appeared in court in a red sweater and by that night it had sold out everywhere. weirdest part to me is he isn't my type, I don't even like guys with strong jawlines or muscles, I like men so feminine you'd wonder why I don't just date a woman. AND YET, HERE I AM.

DRAG QUEENS are opting to dress as him instead; people who spend every moment of their career trying to prepare to NOT look like men on stage want to look like this man on stage. People are squabbling over which actors are hot enough to play him. We have found the male equivalent to Marilyn Monroe. He could be no one's type and still be everyone's type. People have tattooed him on their bodies already and I see posts everyday from people in other countries lamenting over lack of updates of him as if he's a boyfriend that's not texting back. FROM COUNTRIES THAT HAVE FREE HEALTH CARE. This is some supernatural level thirst. They could tell us he smells like onions and gymsocks and they'd make a cologne out of it and it would be worth millions. Actors SPEND millions on plastic surgery to be this desired and they still are being told they're not hot enough to play him in any of the multiple movies they're already making about this guy because directors and screen writers are obsessed. THE NYPD IS REQUIRED TO UNDERGO COUNTER TERRORISM MEASURES AGAINST LUIGI MANGIONE AND MEMBERS OF THE NYPD ARE ALSO DONATING TO HIM. THEIR JOB IS TO STOP HIM BUT THEY CAN'T.

I REPEAT, THE PRESS HAD TO BE TOLD TO STOP RELEASING IMAGES OF HIM BECAUSE ITS SOMEHOW MAKING HIM MORE POWERFUL.

[skelleste]

2024 Art Summary

A selection of art from the past year. You can find a little about each image below.

Happy New Year (Again!)

Just like last time, it's time for another self-indulgent end-of-year post. A lot of things happened and unfortunately I don't feel that I made as much art as I did last year. I got bombarded with people asking me for art trades when I opened them last winter and I still haven't done most of them. I'm used to only a few randos that I mostly turn down requesting them, but having a bunch of friends ask all at once was a bit unexpected. If you're still waiting, I haven't forgotten and will make it eventually. Unfortunately I have the "I shouldn't draw for myself until I do my owed art" mentality most of the time and it just results in doing absolutely nothing because, quite frankly, I often don't want to draw other characters more than I want to draw my own. I'm going to have to be extremely selective about art trades going forward. I also moved this year for the first time ever, and that threw a big wrench in the works. The reason I moved so soon was because my insane sister was moving back in. She threatened to poop in my brother's bed (she's 22) and threatened both of us with violence and my parents were like "yeah that's fine". So uh, yeah, goodbye to living that sweet, sweet, chimpanzee lifestyle. All of that aside, I still made plenty of things, and I'll talk about a few of them here.

January

Some of the last comic panels I worked on before the art trade fiasco put working on the comic to a halt for almost a whole year. These are sketches, but the whole page is done now, of course. This was probably the most time-consuming panel so far, as I had to draw an indoor scene with 9 characters (technically 10 if you count Scott twice). I'm not sure if any of the panels that I have yet to work on will surpass this one in amount of time needed. There's a reason I made this one of the first scenes on the laundry list.

February

The first art trade. I had the pleasure of drawing Mumbo, Jumbo, Balder, and Dash for Chalkrub. I don't feel too great about the background, with its wonky perspective and odd colors, but everyone seems to like how it turned out anyway. It's my third most popular piece of art on this whole site as of writing this.

March

I made this for no reason other than I wanted to draw something edgy for edgy's sake. It had been a while since I made any art of this nature, and Ferdinand is my go to OC for it. My taste in art is not the same as what I draw. I make what I do because it's more about the enjoyment of the process than the aesthetic appeal of the final piece. When I focus on personal aesthetic appeal, I end up not drawing for 9 months at a time because I hate injuring my hand on inking all the time. So if you're some edgy artist and ever wondered why the fuck a cartoon shitposter extraordinaire follows you, there you go.

April

Another art trade, this time for 888goober888 on DeviantArt. A perfect example of a classic case of the eternal false promise "yeah I'll just finish this detail and then be done." And then there's 3,000 brushstrokes worth of individual grass blades. Tee hee.

May

This was a painting I started, and then put down because it was awful to work on, and then I picked it back up weeks later and finished it. The miseries I suffer for not trusting the process. It was a backburner project for a backburner project, which is the website. This painting is now the homepage background, ready to greet all visitors to my nonsense.

June

Commission for Porcumoose. I get the standard array of OC types in my commissions, because every client wants something different from the last. This time I felt very fortunate to draw something I personally like, and I this was my favorite commission from the whole year. This is my way of saying to the public at large "Please pay me to draw more spooky shit please please please".

July

Art Fight month again. I was planning on attempting longest chain with a friend, but he fell ill and we cancelled that plan. I decided to do a slow art year instead, which means fewer attacks with higher quality. My personal favorite from fighting for Team Stardust was this attack, Osireon (a fanmade eeveelution) for Sqveel. Thank you to everyone who attacked me! I always appreciate every single one. Next year is the big 10 year, and I plan on making it special.

August

August always begins with a week-long break from art for me, simply to rest after Art Fight. I also had a week-long vacation shortly thereafter, so half of my month was already spoken for. I had also started the process of moving and lost even more time to that. I can't recall exactly what all I made during then because it was very little, but one of them was certainly catgirl Maudlin. Here she is in all her glory.

September

This is when I moved, and I did not have access to the internet on my computer for a little while. I also spent much of my available drawing time working on a commission, so this was another month where I made very little for myself and cannot recall what little there was. Scatterbrain pineapple is going to teach you French while I jog my memory with blunt force and drywall.

October

Alright, now we're talking. On a whim I decided to participate in Goretober, because I couldn't stop thinking of stupid slapstick ideas and I thought someone scrolling through the tag and seeing this stupid shit randomly in the mix was funny. I was correct. I have one last prompt that I'll get to when I get to it, but aside from that one, this was my favorite drawing from the season. I think I've raised the bar on my own cursed content.

November

After Goretober, I took a break from regular drawing and leaned in favor of website progress. I made a handful of long-needed art assets, animated a custom cursor, created directories for future comic releases, and more. There is still much more to do, but a lot of the necessary code is sorted out.

December

Fuck those art trades (respectfully). I'll do them when I do them. I started working on the comic again for the first time since last February and I've already got a few more pages done. I don't really publicly talk about the comic very much, and yet I'll have random people take interest in the characters, the site, the prospect of a comic coming into existence, etc. and so I should really get on that. As much as the trades have been delayed, this is a project that was started much earlier and honestly could've been done by now if I didn't have to live for so long with people who are blasé about abusing each other. It needs to be completed.

These are just a small selection of my artworks throughout the past year. If you would like to see more, then you can peruse the blog. It's been my goal to get the comic done for the last two years, and we're going on year 3 now. Same old, same old. You'll see more art from me soon. I hope your new year is fruitful and full of peace. See you in 2025.

2023 || 2022

[dearweirdme]

One thing that made me stop believing that Taekook is real was when Taehyung posted that Taekook Dream photo on his IG only to be seen going on a late night date with Jennie in Paris a few days after. It made me feel like he posted that TK photo on purpose to feed shippers and keep them occupied while he went to Paris with the person whom he was really in a relationship with.

I know you also think the video was real and not edited in any ways and definitely those were not cosplayers, but then you seemed to convince yourself that everything was just media play even when it was clear that Paris walk was a "soft launch".

I never questioned the bond that Taekook have. We can all see how close they are. I would have love to think it was more than a platonic relationship, but their dating rumors are telling me otherwise and Paris was the last straw for me.

I think Taekook do fanservice as a way to help each other cover up as to whom they are really dating. They do stuff like the Wooga ring, Hello Kitty plushie, the ILY sign, the stares etc etc to feed shippers so when dating rumors emerge, no one would believe in those rumors. Do I make sense?

Hi anon!

I don’t really feel like having yet another conversation about why I feel Taennie isn’t real. I mean, look through my tag system and you’ll find everything I have said on it in the past. I will say something on why I don’t feel you make sense though.

You’re basically contradicting yourself. You think it was a soft launch, but at the same time Tae needed to use Jk to hide his relationship with Jennie. When you soft launch something, you don’t also try to hide it. To me it also makes no sense at all for him to use a rumored queer relationship to hide a straight one. We’re talking about a hugely homophobic country here.

I think your thoughts are heavily based in heteronormative thinking. Because Jk and Tae are just as much a rumored relationship as any of the straight rumored ones. Theirs is the only rumored one though in which we have gotten actual organic clues from (opposed to Taennie which was all fed to us from outsiders).

I would like you to think about this… All throughout his career Tae has been given the narrative of weird/outsider/alienish. When he was a rookie he wasn’t allowed to be visible with the other members until their debut. He then was said to be quirky. His friendships outside of BTS were somewhat used to set him aside. His talk with Jk in ITS was edited in a way that made him look like the one who caused a rift; using his mental health issues. AYS once again put him in a narrative of being a guest.. amongst two people he is super close with. What effect do you think Taennie has had on his image…? It’s once again something that’s made him stand aside. It’s something that for Army’s made him connected to Blinks. It made him part of a dating scandal. In the wider context, Taennie is just another narrative Hybe stuck to him to make him susceptible to fandom criticism.

You are free to think Jk thought about ways to trick shippers before doing his first live in a year.. and came up with the brilliant idea of the Hello Kitty plush.. which ofcourse he made sure to pack up in a convenient place just for this occasion before moving house. I am however convinced that the plushie actually means something to him.

[imjustdreamingig]

Jesus, what's a girl to do?

Part 1

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Robin meddles, Steve is clueless, and you're freaking out. So a regular day.

A/N: i genuinely have no idea where this came from, i legit posted the first part like 2 years ago. but I guess I want to start actually writing more? idk! we shall see. anyways, this fic stems from my (occasional) exhaustion to shy!reader and i'm basing this more on how horrifically i acted around the guys i would like even tho i consider myself an extrovert. enjoy whatever this is??? and lmk if u want a part 3! also this is not proof read so bear w me

warnings: sfw, swearing, uhhh i think that's it???

You were screwed. Absolutely, terribly, fucking screwed.

You were also very angry at your mother, giving her a glare every time she glanced your way at the dinner table. She merely gave you a wink in return, not understanding the true implications of her actions.

"So, Steve," your mom began as she cut a bit of the chicken on her plate, "you play basketball, right? Is that something you want to keep doing in university?" This time, you openly stared at your mom, trying to telepathically convey that you would literally kill her if she kept talking. You haven't made up your mind if you're joking or not.

Steve cleared his throat, "Yeah, I do, I'd say I'm pretty good at it, too. Wherever I end up going, I'll probably join their team for fun." He turned to you after taking a bite of his meal, smirking. "You like basketball too, right?"

You choked on your water, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. You looked at Steve properly for practically the first time that night, but your voice never wavered. "No, not really, why?"

He turned back to his food, amusement gracing his voice. "Well, I see you and Robin sitting together at every game, even the away ones, so I just assumed." If your face could sport a visible blush, you knew it would be a bright red, hot, mess.

"Well, I- I get dragged by Robin because she doesn't like sitting alone or going to random schools by herself like, half an hour away. Do you even watch the news? Girls by themselves are basically the perfect bait for random kidnappings and stuff, especially girls in high school, like I mean the statistics for-"

"Y/N" You're rambling is halted by your mother's voice. Steve is looking at you in bemusement. You are contemplating death. The situation is not looking good.

"Could you grab me some water from the kitchen, with ice," your mother said with a strained smile, holding out her glass. You grab it and push your chair out. "Sure, yeah," you replied. As you made your way to the kitchen, your mind replays the last hour of the events that have transpired, wondering what you could've possibly done in your past life to deserve this.

How could your own mother, the woman who birthed you, ask the hottest guy in your grade if he wanted to stay for dinner and not consult you first, all whilst knowing you had the most ridiculous crush on the guy.

Betrayed by the ones closest to you. This is probably how Julius Caesar felt.

After overcoming your initial shock, and lets face it, mortification of being paired up with Steve for your English project, you attempted to the best of your abilities to push down your feelings and remain professional in order to actually work on the project and make sure you got an A. Your grades would not suffer over a stupid crush on a stupid boy, that's where you drew the line. Unfortunately, this plan was not working out so well.

It was actually failing, horrifically at that.

It had been about a month since the semester started and the project had been assigned—a complex analysis of a classic book of your choice and how that particular novel has inspired the creation of others and advanced its genre. You had to write a collaborative essay to hand in to your teacher, as well as create an interactive presentation for your classmates explaining your chosen novel.

This was all due at the end of the semester and you'd be given no in class time to work on it since you had an ample amount time to work on it outside of school. It would also replace the need for a final exam, which was great news. When your teacher had explained the project, you were ecstatic, knowing exactly what book you wanted to do: Pride and Prejudice.

Then, you remembered who you had to do the project with, this huge, daunting, complex, project, where you would need to interact with your partner in close proximity for an extended period of time. You felt faint.

Steve, in his defence, had tried to approach you on multiple occasions to try and figure out when you two should meet to try and start the project. But, obviously, whenever you saw so much as a glimpse of him in the hallway, you would make yourself scarce.

The only time he would actually be able to talk to you was in your shared English class. Robin was beginning to go crazy at your increasingly outlandish excuses as to why you couldn't meet up with Steve after school in order to work on your project.

"Oh sorry, my mom needs my help on some stuff tonight."

"I have to take my brother to soccer practice."

"I can't today, I have an eye doctor appointment."

"My dog actually needs to go to the vet, she's sick, sorry."

"My family and I are going on a road trip this weekend, so I'm not free."

"My sister broke her leg uh— skiing, and she needs help writing stuff for school."

"Funny story, Robin has a crazy ex thats trying to get her to meet up with him again, and I have to help her slash their tires and like, do girl stuff, it's personal, so I'm not free, maybe next week though?"

That last excuse is what caused Robin to snap. She knew that Steve knew that you were making shit up, Robin has never even been in a relationship, let alone have an ex. Also, you didn't even have a sister, what gives!

You also had no clue exactly how close the pair had gotten due to working together at the video store and that she'd told Steve she was into girls. Therefore, like the great best friend she was, Robin decided it was time she intervened, for everyones sake really, but mostly yours.

"God," you sighed, "I never thought I would be so into arms, like not the huge, bulging one, you know? All veiny and red, that just scares me, hello, his are just ones that are like slightly defined, but have a very obvious outline of muscle, like I can tell he's strong, and fuck, his biceps, is it bad that I want to like, bite them? Because every time I look and him and he's fixing his hair I just keep getting this urge to—wait where are you going? Robin? Ok, OK! I'll stop, I promise! Come back!"

If Robin had to hear another anecdote about how you wanted to bite his arms, she was going to puke.

Your continuous blabbering about how good Steve's hair looked or how good those jeans looked on him and your inability to have one proper conversation with him or stay in the same room as him for longer than two minutes was making her go insane. She couldn't take it anymore.

So, Robin devised a plan, which one day she was sure you would thank her for—hopefully.

First, she inconspicuously made sure that you had nothing planned for Thursday night, already knowing you were free but wanting to double check that no random stuff had come up.

Then, she called your mom, who absolutely adored Robin. She told her about your situation and how if she did nothing, your infatuation for Steve was literally going to give her an aneurysm. Robin would tell you that she wanted to hang out Thursday night so you would get ready, but instead of her showing up, it would be Steve.

Not surprisingly, your mom agreed to Robin's crazy plan. She thought it was about time you got a boyfriend. You had already talked about Steve so much to her anyways, but any time she would tell you to just try talking to the guy, you vehemently refused.

"Mom, are you insane, I'm not going to do that," you scoffed as if literally just having a conversation with another person was the most insane idea in the world.

"Mija, how else are you supposed to get to know people if you can't speak to them? Besides, you never seem to have a problem talking back to me whenever we have an argument," you mom shrugged as she continued folding the laundry you were helping her with.

"Oh come on," you sighed exasperatedly, "that's not the same thing and you know it."

"I'm just saying, by the looks of it, I don't think I'll be a grandmother."

"Mom, what, hello!?"

Getting Steve to show up at your house was easier than Robin thought. She conveniently told him right before the beginning of their shift on Thursday that you'd told Robin that they should all get together at your house to finally get started on the project. Robin smiled a bit wider than necessary when Steve enthusiastic agreed to go.

When Robin gave Steve your address and told him that she would be over a little later because she left some stuff at her house, that no, she didn't need a ride and that no, she was fine walking, Steve was none the wiser to her actual plan.

As Robin saw Steve pull out of her driveway and making his way to your house, she gave herself a mental pat on the back and started thinking about what movie she should watch after dinner, knowing that the school day tomorrow would be very entertaining.

When Steve rang your doorbell, he was still clueless about the real intentions of Robin's plan, but when you opened the door and he saw your eyes go wide and your mouth drop slightly open, almost as if you weren't expecting to see him, something clicked in his head.

This was going to be fun.

[youareatragedy]

Do you think there will come a time when everyone realizes what a piece of shit Rhys and the IC are like how we now see Andrea’s friends and boyfriend in The Devil Wears Prada as the real villains?

Since you brought up Devil Wears Prada, a book that got a movie adaptation, let me bring up a point about other book-to-movie adaptations.

I made a post a few weeks ago explaining that the reason I know 50 Shades of Grey is an incorrect representation of the BDSM community is because many people spoke up about it, and others took their critiques seriously. I think it’s the same case with the entire Twilight saga. Now, it feels more like a guilty pleasure for people, whereas back then, some thought Twilight could be the new Pride and Prejudice or something.

That’s why I don’t think the ACOTAR live-action adaptation will work (I’ve been planning to make a post about this it’s in my drafts, but I haven’t had the time to finish it yet😅). I think ACOTAR won’t survive the scrutiny of a larger audience, and dare I say, the chances of it flopping are high. ACOTAR will not be the next Game of Thrones, Hunger Games, or Harry Potter. Instead, ACOTAR will be the next Mortal Instruments or Eragon.

If those two flopped because they didn’t follow the source material, ACOTAR will flop because one, the fandom won’t be pleased with the casting, two, the plot is already being mocked by so many people as "fae porn" as of now. And three, many viewers who aren’t tied to the “it helped me get back into reading” sentiment will watch it and see its flaws for what they are.

There’s no chance in hell (unless they ensure from the very beginning that Tamlin is portrayed as the bad guy—which would in turn, make Feyre even less sympathetic early on) that they can convince viewers that Rhysand and the IC aren’t bad people. If they include an intro similar to GoT with a map, the Prythian map alone would cause an uproar. And do you think Rhysand hiding Feyre’s pregnancy issues from her wouldn’t have actual feminists everywhere cancelling the show and writing scathing articles in every major publication?

Why am I rambling about this live adaptation thing? Because I feel somewhat hopeless about this fandom’s ability to accept that Rhysand is a bad person. We’re in a giant bubble. However, if something as big as a series or movie adaptation happens, the audience will expand, and this bubble will burst. At that point, these “cult-like” fans will have to confront widespread criticism of Rhysand, Feyre, and the IC.

It’s one thing to argue with “antis” but imagine trying to defend these characters against millions of people who aren’t attached to blurry headcanons-fanfic-influenced perceptions or self-conjured justifications. Watching even more people mock Rhysand, Feyre and the IC on very public platforms—not just among the readers—will be a whole different experience for their mafiastancult because they cant keep saying "but if you read the book!" to defend it. Good luck with that.

I have a headache I hope my answer make sense 😅.