#trashy insight for you

[theinternetisfulloftrash]

Theory Dylan, the character, knew the camera was on. He has a voyeur kink. Why else would you announce you're gonna take a long hard piss?

Chariacture Dylan KNOWS

I was talking with a friend about how it was so obvious to me that the scene was improv (later confirmed and I felt so valid). He's such a fucker. He knows EXACTLY what he's doing and his HBO persona is just so good. I can't stand it. While our boy is a bit shy, part of him lives for the drooling he can illicit, I'm sure. He's a menace. Confirmed.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Misogyny in the fandom: let's talk about it

Not gonna lie, the level of interalized or even just blatant misogyny in this fandom is really disheartening sometimes. There is already VERY few female characters in the book, even fewer with speaking roles, and yet I see all of them being hated on in some way. People hate on Cherry for standing up for herself when Dally was harrasing her, and for not seeing Johnny in the hospital, which bullshit to begin with but also, you can't tell me that if the roles were reversed and Cherry sat down behind Dallas and starting talking about how stupid and classless greaser boys are, and Dally threw a coke at her, that the fandom wouldn't love him all the more for it. People hold her to this impossible golden standard, expecting her to literally be perfect instead of a conflicted and grieving teenage girl, when they embrace the flaws and give a lot more grace to much more violent and 'bad' male characters. It's a very 'boys will be boys' and 'girls mature fatser so they should know better' double standard that I really can't stand. Marcia gets a level of the same treatment, with people occasionally calling her vapid or shallow when the book makes it clear she and Two-bit actually really hit it off, and the number she gave him being fake was only Two and Ponyboy's speculation. But I digress. Moving on.

Misogyny and classism intersect when it comes to the few female greaser characters we get a little insight on. So many people LOATHE both Sandy and Sylvia because they're cheaters, but honestly, how is cheating worse than stealing? (And don't pretend they steal because they need to survive Ponyboy makes a point of claiming Two-bit doesn't really need or want half the stuff he shoplifts) How is it worse than jumping little kids? How is it worse than sexually harassing girls? How is it worse than the plethora of immoral or illegal activities the greaser guys partake in? If we're being 100% honest, it isn't. "But-but Sandy cheated on Soda, who really loved her". Yeah, she did. That was shitty of her, I'm not defending that, but she was also a sixteen year old girl in a tough situation she was trying to navigate the best she could. She could have lied and told Soda it was his and trapped him in a marriage raising a kid he definitely couldn't afford if she wanted to- but she didn't. Hell, she told him the truth and he was still ready to do that and she wouldn't let him. I don't think those are the actions of a completely terrible person, I think they're the actions of a scared kid who did some shitty things, but is trying her best and trying to do better. At the VERY least they're the actions of a multifaceted character who deserves the same level of grace and insight afforded to the male characters. (If anyone wants to read more of my thoughts on Sandy and her narrative importance, I have a post here). There's also something to be said about the poor 'greasy' girls facing harsher vitriol than the soc girls, and while part of it is because of Ponyboy's biased narration, it's clear to see that readers very much took his views at face value. Soc girls are 'good girls' and have to be perfect to deserve credit from the fans, but greasy girls are 'trashy' so it's ok for them to be judged and shit on. Spoiler alert: it isn't.

Sylvia is similar to Sandy in that her cheating and 'loose' behaviour earn her a lot of hate, which again, I'm not defending her cheating, but we need to give her the same analysis and benefit of the doubt given to Dally. Dally is NOT a good person. Ponyboy says this and makes it clear plenty of times. He's a hurt character, so we can explien why he is the way he is, but he isn't a GOOD character. he values loyalty, so he never cheated on Sylvia, but it's clear based on how he treats Cherry and casual comments he makes that he doesn't really respect women. I can't imagine Sylvia's experience dating him was one where she felt very adored. Again, not an excuse for cheating, but I can understand WHY she'd try and take back power within a dynamic and a society where she never had any, and I don't want to vilify her for that. She's also a poor woman growing up in the sixties- the book makes it clear life is hard enough for poor guys griowing up at that time, but it was probably equally if not more hard for poor women. I think, like the gang, she does what she had to to survive. If you can understand why the gang does bad things, and still be humans who can be considered good, you can extend the same understanding to Sylvia (and Sandy.) I think people need to also keep in mind that everything we know ABOUT Sylvia (and the rest of the female characters) we know from Ponyboy, a fourteen year old boy who's narration is INCREDIBLY biased and who doesn't have the full details of any of the relationships in the gang. Ponyboy sees Sylvia and Sandy as these terrible, loose women who have hurt people he cares about, so a lot of the fandom does too, but it doesn't change the fact that by doing so you're accepting and embracing Ponyboy's internalized misogyny and making it your own.

Anyway, I don't think I'm articulating this as well as i want to, and i spoke a bit more about this in this reply to one of the posts on the confessions page, but yeah, I just wish people could accept that fact that if they bend over backward to find ways to defend or explain immoral actions from male characters, but refuse to even attempt to do the same for female characters, they've probably internalized a bit of misogyny they should maybe work on.

[gorjee-art]

what I've learned about gentle nudges towards self-care is that...

You always have to trick yourself into doing it, and usually, it's done in the strangest ways.

You see, I've had a big problem with watching a lot of "trashy" drama-esque YouTube media, it always brought down my mood, it posed no real value other than background noise while I worked, and it always felt like a loss after I watched it. I wanted to watch better more insightful works I was just too lazy to go out and try to find out what I wanted to ACTUALLY watch.

how did I fix this you ask?

by putting more dolls on my desk, just having that "company" sitting there watching my screens it felt...wrong. Why do I want to show them podcasts filled with horrible people just constantly arguing each other? when I can instead relax them with a nice foraging video? Yeah...yeah! That'll put their nerves at ease...

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Polaroids & Promises

When your mother had first met your boyfriend, she had made two very astute observations: He was incredibly distinguished (read: much older than she’d expected) and he was definitely a heartbreaker. At the time she’d meant the latter as a testament to his devilishly good looks, but her statement had turned out to be true in a much more literal sense.

Letting out a sigh as you toed your shoes off by the front door, you settled your winter gear and house keys on their respective hooks before making your way to the kitchen. The contents of your fridge left much to be desired, a box of Chinese takeout and an unfinished bottle of wine sitting pretty on the second shelf, a sad cast of recurring characters in your post-breakup misery. Pointing at the Merlot, you declared, “I’ll be back for you soon.”

Although you wanted nothing more than to curl up with a trashy romance novel and the cheap wine, your career didn’t care how sad you were; work needed doing and therefore laundry needed washing. After shedding your work attire and scrubbing the day from your body with a hot shower, you carried the sizable buildup of clothes down the hall to the laundry room. You began sorting the delicates from your regular wash, pausing mid-squat at an unfamiliar shade of red peeking out from the bottom of the hamper. Tossing t-shirts and work pants aside, a traitorous prickle of hot tears momentarily blurred the stark white USMC before you. Releasing a ragged breath, you pulled the hoodie to your face and inhaled deeply, the fabric muffling your sob as the smell that you had come to think of as home overwhelmed your senses. Seven months of memories played in your head in the span of mere seconds, quiet nights on the couch, steaks cooked by the fire, the scraping of a sander against wood.

You missed Jethro more than words could describe. You missed his warmth, his touch, his teasing remarks. You missed visiting him at work, and sharing entire conversations with Tony consisting only of movie quotes, and nerding out with Tim over the latest Game of Thrones episode, and bonding with Ziva over a few hours at the range, and going to concerts with Abby, and trading interesting cases with Jimmy. You missed insightful talks with Ducky about life and opera and the enigma that is his friend and your lover. You missed the sight of matching keys on the hook next to yours and work boots in the hallway. You missed trading sections of the paper over morning coffee. You missed the quiet protest of the bed when he slipped in beside you well past midnight.

You missed having someone to come home to.

Swiping at your eyes, you abandoned the task at hand in lieu of moping in your bedroom, but first doubling back to enlist the company of your trusty red. You settled down on the floor at the foot of your bed and eased the cork out of the mouth of the bottle, taking a hearty swig as you pulled your wooden memory box into your lap. Running your fingers over the intricate pattern on top, you recalled the day Jethro had gifted you the handcrafted piece for all of those pictures you force me to be in, he had admitted with a begrudging smile. You took out the stack of Polaroids, spreading them out on the floor before you as you gulped down another mouthful of wine. Although the dates were printed at the bottom of each photo, you could easily track the progression of your relationship by the way Jethro’s visage grew less grumpy and more smiley over time. A teardrop splattered across the shiny surface of one of your pictures, and you were quick to wipe it off without smudging the writing on the bottom. You finished off the last dregs of red wine and with it, your crumbling resolve, and you dialed ten digits on your cellphone purely via muscle memory.

Jethro’s voice in your ear made your heart twinge, even if it was just to tell you to leave a message. Taking in a shuddering breath, you opened with a brilliant, “Hey, it’s me.” Cringing, you soldiered on. “You’re probably still at work, because that’s- that’s what you do, isn’t it? Work yourself to the bone, people who care about you be damned. Sorry,” you sighed, immediately reneging on the snarky comment. “That’s not fair of me to say. I admire you and the work you do, you know that, right? It’s just that, well, Ducky had warned me this would happen, that you have a hard time separating yourself from the job. I guess I thought I could stop it or delay it or something, but I couldn’t. And now it’s-” You paused to squint at the digital clock on your nightstand. “-a quarter after ten on a Wednesday night, and I’m wine drunk, and I miss you so much that I called just to hear your voice on a goddamn answering machine. I mean, c’mon, Jet, who still has a landline these days? Christ, this is fucking pathetic. Maybe I should get a cat or some-” The phone beeped at you, indicating that you’d reached the time limit on the machine. Dropping your head into your hands, you groaned out, “Oh my god.”

You heaved a sigh, then delicately returned your treasured memories to their keepsake box before replacing it on the desk. Deciding that the crisp winter air would do you good, you slipped into your coat and boots, locked up, and headed outside for a late night walk.

_______

“I mean, c’mon, Jet, who still has a landline these days?” Jethro chuckled softly at the incredulity in your tone, tuning back in to your message just as it got cut off. He poured himself another splash of bourbon, then downed it in one go, finger already itching to replay the rambling message for the third time in as many minutes just to bask in the sound of your voice for a few more precious moments. He heard the stairs creak and emptied out a mug of miscellaneous screws and fasteners under the assumption that Tobias was joining him to discuss their progress on the case. Instead, the voice he was so desperately craving to hear floated downstairs to him.

“You really should lock your doors. Never know what sort of unsavory character could wander in off the street.”

Turning to face you as you reached the bottom step, he rumbled out, “So that’s where my favorite hoodie’s been hiding.” There was a distinct edge to his voice as he silently took in your bleary eyes and slightly disheveled appearance.

“I took a cab,” you said softly, immediately recognizing the heat in his glare as concern at the thought of you driving in your current state. “Can I come in?”

“You’re already in,” he responded, not quite curt, but not exactly warm either. Still, he hooked his ankle around the stool beside him and pulled it out, simultaneously pouring two fingers of his signature bourbon into the awaiting mug on the workbench. You took that as an invitation to join him, closing the remainder of the space between you and accepting the amber liquid as you perched on the seat. Gathering your courage, you took a sip and offered, “I missed this gasoline with a side of tetanus.”

“I missed your unparalleled wit,” he shot back, the corner of his mouth lifting with mirth.

“Hey, so, random question,” you forced out through a laugh, “have you checked your messages yet today? Just wondering cause I-” Your words caught in your throat when Jethro suddenly framed your face with his hand, the familiar ridges of his callouses pressing against your skin as he molded his mouth to yours. He pulled back just as abruptly, eyes wide with the realization of the wounds he had reopened and muttered, “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” you whispered, entwining your fingers with his on the workbench. Not yet able to meet his gaze, you clarified, “Don’t apologize. Not for that, at least.”

“Y/N-”

“No, actually, you know what?” You finally dared to look up at him, taking in the scruff dotting his cheeks and the dark circles beneath his lower lids that no doubt mirrored your own. Hot tears brimmed at your water line as you continued with a ferocity, “You don’t get to turn those pretty blue eyes on me and kiss me and make me forget about the terrible month I’ve had without you. I’m so mad at you. So mad.” You punctuated this thought with a sharp prod to his firm chest. “I wanted you to fight for me. For us. But no! You decided the best course of action was inaction, and I had to be the bad guy. And you know what the worst fucking part about all this is?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head before pulling you into his arms. You melted into his embrace, all of the fight draining out of you as you confessed, “I’m not really mad at you. I’m mad at myself for being so naive.”

“Oh, my love,” he breathed out, squeezing you tight until your tears subsided. “You deserve so much better.”

Pulling back so you could look into his shiny eyes, you huffed, “That’s just it, you idiot. I want you to be better.” Lifting your joined hands to your lips, you pressed kisses to his knuckles before whispering, “I need you to choose me, just like I choose you every day. I want to build a life with you, to grow old with you-”

“One of us is already old,” he cut in with a cheeky grin, forcing a laugh out of you.

“Fine,” you amended, “I want to grow older with you, grumpy.”

“I want that, too,” he confessed quietly, the intensity in his eyes stealing your breath away. “The thing is, angel, I did choose you. I just thought you would be better off without me, and that if you left you’d be angry instead of hurt.”

“You- what?” you spluttered. “I should smack you upside the head for that, you stupid, infuriating man. What kind of dumb reverse psychology is that, Jethro? I just thought you would be better off without me,” you mimicked in a deep voice. Jabbing your finger into his chest again, you repeated, “Stupid.”

Grabbing your outraged finger as leverage, he pulled you closer and pressed his lips against yours once more, hands coming up to cup your cheeks and thumbs rubbing soothingly against your skin until your righteous anger boiled down to a controlled simmer. You let out a sigh as his mouth left yours, then beckoned him forward again. “One more.” He placed a kiss on the corner of your mouth. “Another.” This time, the opposite side. “Keep ‘em coming.” He chuckled warmly before dotting gentle kisses all over your face until you graced him with a smile.

“Honey, listen,” Jethro said, growing serious as he guided you back down to sit across from him but keeping a firm grip on your hand, “I know I went about this in entirely the wrong way, and I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life making up for it.”

“Yeah, you’d better,” you grumbled playfully, squeezing his hand.

“And you know I’m not big on moon phases and star signs and all that-”

“We’ll work on it.”

Fixing you with a look and tweaking your nose affectionately, he continued, “But I’m pretty sure most people don’t get lucky enough to find two soulmates in one lifetime. Shannon would never let me hear the end of it if I let you get away again.”

“Oh, Jet,” you sighed, leaning forward to press your forehead against his. “The day I realized I was in love with you, I made your girls a promise that I would take care of you. Help me keep that promise, okay?”

“I will,” he whispered, two simple words, a solemn pledge. “Now let’s go upstairs so you can tell me what I’ve missed and call me stupid a bunch more times.”

“Deal,” you laughed, taking his hand so he could help you up. “Can I just check the answering machine real quick before we-”

“Nope,” Jethro cut you off, pulling you into his side and squeezing your hip as you ascended the stairs together. “I’m keeping that message forever. Maybe even quote it in my vows one day.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

[addieyapsalot]

random drive-by from the riverdale tag but i love that you hate the hedwig ep so much bc they literally consulted with stephen trask on it. idk if that will make it better or worse for you (personally i love the episode absolutely and think it's a really insightful and egregiously trashy application of the themes of hedwig onto the riverdale universe...but i also think it's the hardest one to swallow and takes a lot of big swings that are not at all respectable lol. anyway cheers bye!)

the fact that Stephen Trask was okay with it makes me nauseous tbh

[wutheringmights]

hi! i’ve read in the dream house and speak bc of your reviews and Loved them. i find your analyses to be really insightful, i trust that when you recommend something theres Something of value i’ll get out of reading it. are there any books you’ve loved that you haven’t posted abt here yet? and how do you find new books to read? thanks for being so thoughtful abt your own writing and the books you read that it inspires me to study and improve my own work 🫡💞

Aw thank you! I always feel like I am yelling into the void whenever I make posts about the things I'm reading, so I'm glad you enjoy reading my thoughts <3

For books I haven't posted about yet... I just finished Juniper & Thorn by Ava Reid (and will make a post about it soon). It's not a perfect read, but if you like horror and fairytale tropes, you'll get something about this.

Besides that, I recommend The Bell Jar by Slyvia Plath, and the works of Robert Cormier (I Am the Cheese and The Chocolate Wars are two of my favorites). If you like war stories, All Quiet On the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque is required reading.

I really enjoy the works of Octavia Butler. Kindred is my absolute favorite, but Parable of the Sower is very relevant to the current political moment. Future Home of the Living God by Louise Erdrich also scarred the fuck out of me, but is a great work on reproductive rights.

I did an entire seminar on Virginia Woolf. Besides Mrs. Dalloway, I think Into the Lighthouse and Orlando are very good.

For the classics, I love Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. One of the first classics I ever fell in love with was Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities, though Great Expectations is also exceptional.

One of my favorite books of all time that I never discuss with anyone anywhere is Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov, for obvious reasons. Read this book for two reasons. One, it will fuck you up. Nabokov's work with perspective and unreliable narrators is fucking insane. Second, Nabokov does something with the English language that I have never seen before and will probably never see again. If anyone has a command of the English language, it's him.

How do I find books to read? Some of the books I read before they are recommended to me by friends or by someone online. As long as you avoid romance/romantasy, BookTok/BookTube/Bookblr is a great place to get recs. I watch a lot of CariCanRead on Youtube because she reads a massive amount of books I have never heard of and is generally really honest about what books she liked/hated and why. I also windowshop at bookstores and libraries and just check out what is available on the shelves.

Honestly, the best advice I can give you is to let go of the idea of every book being impeccable art. You do not have to always be reading the Great American Novel. You can read books that are silly and outright trash. Once you shed the idea that books are some higher form of art, you remember that they are made to be entertainment. Like movies, there are going to be days where you want to watch post-modern French films or Oscar-winning movies about the turn of the century. There are also going to be days where you want to watch a silly comedy, or a trashy reality TV show, or you just go to the movies for something to do.

It's healthier for you if not every book is life changing. I have read some really bad books (some on purpose), and I have read some books that were just aggressively mediocre. Even if they didn't transform me into a better writer/reader/person, they were still worth reading. And when you give yourself permission to read books you might not necessarily like, it gets easier to try new genres and take risks on unfamiliar works. That's where you get new experiences. That's where a book sneaks up on you and smacks you on the back of the head with something that will absolutely make you change the way you see the world.

If anything, just try reading things you normally wouldn't read, be it sci-fi, memoir, historical epic, classic romance, etc.

[melancholy-of-nadia]

La La Lost You (m) (teaser) | cyj

title: La La Lost You (m) << one-shot prequel to love u lately >> pairing: choi yeonjun x f. reader feat. bits of yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff, smut ; fake dating au; post-high school au, lowkey tatbilb au summary: choi yeonjun was simply just your academic rival, competing for honors at graduation during your senior year. however, when one of your (distant) friends' brothers is getting married, your 3 guy best friends all have dates to the event except you. in order not to feel like a loser, you decide to call up the only other tolerable male you know: Yeonjun, to be your fake date. what will happen when a childish fake date scheme actually ends up turning into your first real relationship lasting an entire summer. it may ultimately.. not end well note: i KNOW i have yet to finish Love U Lately, but i wanted to present this prequel idea to you guys!! i know many of y'all may not be a txt moa, but this one shot will definitely add a lot more insight on previous events and character insight to other bts characters in LUL that don't get much of a spotlight note 2: you do not have to read LUL to understand this fic. honestly might be better if you haven't read it! it will heavily focused on the mentioned previous relationship reader had with yeonjun before starting college and well as the perspectives of yoonminjoon and their attitudes towards it as they were still struggling with their romantic feelings for reader warnings: language, sexual innuendo mentions, maybe some smut, underage drinking, yeonjun has a band, soobin appearance, jungkook has a small crush on reader, halsey shows up!, yoonminjoon being jealous and overprotective, typical things that happen in a summer romance, bonfire party, eventual breakup smut warnings: tba drop date: spring 2024 word count: 15k (projected)

"Look, Choi, I need you to-"

"Need me? Sounds kinda erotic." The taller boy chuckles, and your face scowls, turning a heavy shade of red.

"Huh? You're gross! As if I would EVER do anything trashy with you!" You cross your arms, feeling impatient. Jimin should be here any minute from his last class across campus so you can both go home together. This isn't gonna work, and you don't have any more time for this. "You know what, never mind. I don't even know why I bothered to think of asking you. I should've asked Mark instead." You turn around, deciding to walk away from the situation. You'll take the L! You'll go to Seokjin's dumb brother's wedding by yourself like the loser you are while everyone else has dates.

"Hey, wait!" Yeonjun pulls your arm toward him, making you turn back around. "Alright. Fine, princess, I'm listening. What is it?" He looks at you, finally with sincerity in his eyes.

God, I guess if he actually wants to listen, then you'll say it. What could go wrong?

You tiptoe and lean in close to his ear, catching Yeonjun slightly off guard. "Okay. I need you to be my fake date to my friend's brother's wedding."

Yeonjun blinks repeated, processing the request. After realizing he was frozen, he immediately goes back to his usual expression and smirks. "Well, well, well. Looks like someone couldn't resist the charm of Choi Yeonjun after all."

You roll your eyes, "Hell no. Please, I'd rather dance with a cactus."

He raises an eyebrow, "You sure about that? Cacti can be quite prickly, you know."

You huff, "Just shut up and play along. I need you to act like a decent human being for one evening. You owe me anyways., remember?"

Yeonjun smirks again, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Decent human being? That's a stretch," he grins, clearly enjoying this. "But sure, why not? It's not every day someone gets to be in the presence of greatness."

You scoff, shaking your head, "Greatness? Please. Just don't embarrass me, okay?"

Yeonjun's grin widens, "No promises, sweetheart. But I'll do my best. After all, I owe you."

"Yeah, yeah. Just be ready to suffer through a night of pretending to like me," you retort with a wry smile.

"Oh, the sacrifices I make for you," he replies, sarcasm dripping from every word.

As you walk away, hoping to meet jimin halfway (where the hell is he?) you can't help but mutter under your breath, "This is gonna be a disaster."

Yeonjun's laughter follows you from a very short distance, "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea."

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist! ➸ love u lately series masterlist

[gaykarstaagforever]

St. Elmo's Fire (1985)

I've always heard nothing but bad things about this movie, how it is a self-indulgent soap opera about awful 1980s people who never pay for their gross behavior. Everyone says the only good thing about it is the John Parr theme song, which is barely in it. And that wasn't even written for it, it was a triumphant pop-rock anthem written to celebrate a kickass wheelchair athlete.

Which is painfully obvious. Then John Parr just worked the name of the movie into it and shrugged. And everyone loves it. But not the movie, which was financially successful because it had members of the smooth and sexy Brat Pack in it, but critics and studio heads hated it then, and many people hate it now.

I, on the other hand, genuinely really liked it.

For all his many shortcomings, Joel Schumacher knew how to put a good movie together in 1985, and he did here. Technically speaking, it's fine. Artistically shot, well paced, the performances are all high-energy and affecting, and even the screenplay is solid, minus a few lazy strolls into trashy melodrama and plot contrivance. But the characters are well-constructed as unique individual people, the occasional jokes are funny, and everything for the most part feels real and earned and insightful.

So why do people hate it? The simple answer is the same one Joel Schumacher apparently got from reluctant studio heads: these people are fucking awful. They're stupid and selfish and cruel, and when that inevitably blows up in their faces, they pout and whine and throw temper tantrums and beg for money. They're well-off white kids from Washington DC who just graduated from Georgetown, and instead of taking advantage of that, most of them are drug-addled mopes for whom the entire world being open to them is STILL not enough.

And I agree with this character critique. These people suck. The whole movie is them ruining the lives of everyone around them with their bad behavior. I have known people like this, and I don't anymore, because they are frustrating and destructive and what they do puts an unfair burden on everyone else.

...But the movie knows this, and that is, in fact, sort of the whole point? Sure, they don't end up dead or in jail, so maybe they don't get the full brunt of what is coming to them. But they're also all 22 years old. Speaking now as a 42 yo man, people who are 22 are stupid baby-things who ruin everything they touch and will absolutely hate who they were in 10 years. That's called growing up, and the entire point of the movie is to show a small part of that process. They DO learn. They DO grow. Not a lot, but a little. And that's how it is, and was, if you were 22 in 1985.

I don't understand why anyone would hate this. You can hate them, if you want. They're detestable. But a lot of privileged people in their 20s are. And while that doesn't absolve them of their shitty behavior, it's kind of unreasonable to not expect this shit from these kinds of people. They are products of where they come from, and now as legal adults, they have to work through that themselves and come out the other side as better people. It's a gross, stupid, weird, terrible process, and the movie shows a glossy, sappy Hollywood version of that.

And it's not bad, for what it is. I don't know if I'd put it on a Top Movies list or even ever watch it again, but it does what it does well. I even kind of fell in love with these big dumb idiots by the end, because as they learn lessons, they become better people. Or at least, differently bad people. But they are still in the middle of that process. I'm not hostile to it or them, or the movie, about it. I don't know why anyone would be.

It IS a movie from 1985, so it has a lot of "movie from 1985" problems. Sexism, treating stalking as a cutesy sitcom plot with a resolution that rewards the stalker, some SA stuff played for laughs, not quite knowing what to do with the women characters that isn't them constantly talking about the male characters, some awkward stuff about one character maybe being gay that seems like it could get interesting, but then the movie remembers it's 1985 and reveals he is super-straight actually, whew! But, honestly, for this era, it is very mild in this regard. I kept expecting it to go dark and problematic and it mostly doesn't (aside from the goofball "I kind of like being stalked" nonsense). For a movie from 1985, it is very watchable and only mildly offensive to 2024 sensibilities. That alone is a rarity, and a big mark in its favor.

Plus it is fun as a fictionalized snapshot of what wealthy white young adults in Washington DC were up to in 1985. Lots of people in their early 20s smoking like chimneys and desperate to get married immediately to people they barely know. Kind of wild.

Also, while these people all have bachelor's degrees, the ease with which they lose and get new high-paying jobs, seemingly without their degrees even being taken into account, is a shocking vision from the past. Sure, some of this is just unrealistic Hollywood guff. But not all of it. They really would just hire you for the modern equivalent of $1500 a week back then, because you seemed cool and your friend called and said yeah, you totally are.

Computers were only starting to be a thing back then. No one could verify anything, no one kept records of anything, and every job a machine does now was something 4 people needed to do in 1985. What a time.

And these idiots STILL whine and moan and never appreciate it! While doing cheap and plentiful cocaine. Ah, the 80s!

...Also, Young Rob Lowe.

Jesus.

...Also, Jules's insane ugly pink neon gay-ass apartment. That I want to spend the rest of my life in.

I'm not just doing a slur. It being designed by her gay designer neighbor is plot-relevant a couple of times.

Also, this poster...

The bar they hang out at is called St. Elmo's Bar. The St. Elmo's Fire thing (the real phenomenon) is from one scene where a character uses it as a metaphor to make another character feel better about how screwed-up their lives are. Arguably he was inspired to do this because they go to that bar a lot, but the connection isn't firmer than that.

The bar is not called St. Elmo's Fire, is my point. So the heat this summer would be at St. Elmo's Bar, not St. Elmo's Fire. Which isn't a place.

This is a poster for the movie! Did they not watch it first? Yes it matters!

And here, finally, because I have to:

HA HA! I GOT YOU! THIS IS THE DAVID FOSTER LOVE THEME!

...Which is way more prominent in the movie, and is honestly way more its actual theme. You will note how it fits the movie tonally a lot better than that driving synth-rock song about a cool guy in a wheelchair.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Qualification to my South Africa post by u/Equivalent-Date-4796

Qualification to my South Africa post I'm sorry, I don't mean to belabor this point, but I found out only last week that the trashy pictures I saw of Meghan at the US Open were actually taken when Archie was an infant. This whole time I thought it was when she first started dating Harry...she attended Wimbledon 2016/2017. These were taken just ONE WEEK before the South Africa tour! She looks so trashy, she's a new mom, she left Archie in another country, and I'm sorry she's acting like a commoner when she's a member of the BRF. Look at her looking at the camera while hugging Serena's husband. I can't even believe the Queen still sent to them to SA...there is no way she would have thought the trip would work out after these photos. Omg. I saw a lot of people posting that SA wouldn't have been the reason, but the final straw, after Fiji and Australia went poorly. Thank you for your insight and I have changed my opinion...I agree. I now think SA was the end of a long road of messes. https://ift.tt/j7LqEGY didn't caption this! Just reposting:https://ift.tt/Cb0FRid sits like this?! Forget being a member of the BRF, and almost 40, and a new mom, and sitting in front of cameras and your friend's husband and at the US Open! Who is like this anywhere in public? Why is she smiling? I just can't. post link: https://ift.tt/eZLHbtr author: Equivalent-Date-4796 submitted: July 02, 2024 at 07:34AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[variousqueerthings]

8 11 32 PLEASE!

HELLOOOOO AND THANK YOUUUUUU! also I remembered how much I overthink when looking at these whoops

8. Describe your gender without using any words traditionally related to gender: You know the opening to the Mr Bean series? Mr Bean gets beamed down onto earth and then it's implied that everyone Mr Bean does after that is literally because of being an alien, but it's never actually confirmed in the text? that but like. with a much more extensive wardrobe

11. Favorite (or just one you love) piece of LGBT media?: WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME???? I'm gonna give u three out of Many that are perfect. and I'm going to connect them to a Theme (I'VE CONNECTED THE DOTS). the thing is that these movies are movies that have at some point held me gently and guided me into a greater understanding of the queer community and history generally, as well as my own feeling of place within this community

My Beautiful Laundrette: This is one of my personal seminal queer movies, I watched it as a young'un/baby queer and it's just. Oh. such softness amidst the violence of the times, and the thing is that the softness is something that saves the main characters from the violence, both as potential perpetrators and victims (and how those can be blurred concepts to begin with). the core of it is two men who come back together amidst the height of neo-nazi anti-immigration 80s England, one of whom is Pakistani British and the other a white skinhead. And they open a laundrette together. This movie is sweet, I promise! it also features one of the subtly hottest moments to me in film history, in which one of them licks the others' neck in public while being watched on one side by Pakistani family members and on the other by white racists but it's angled so none of them see it!

City of Lost Souls: Listen, Rosa Von Praunheim's documentation of trans people (and generally queer people) is so so important for our community and you should check him out, but this film in particular is such a wild fucking ride that is hard to explain. a bunch of queer artists in 80s Berlin (and this movie was made in the 80s so you get some real footage of that great big wall) just like... fuck around? share intense elder wisdom? connect? sing! (oh yeah, it's kind of a musical, a trashy punky musical). This is some of the real deep magic of queer connection. there's an iconic moment in this film (there are several) in which a trans woman picks up a one-night stand and explains to him that she's trans and he's like. "eh no idea what all of that means, but you're saying you're a woman right? great!" and it's just Fine

Desire Lines: listen this movie... I'm almost hesitant to recommend it, because I feel so personally affected by it and it's a one-of-a-kind (so far) insight into transmasculine gay culture that is just. deeply precious and not understood by a lot of even the wider queer community. myself and every transmasc person I know who's seen it have felt somewhat transcendent about it, the way you do the first time you see yourself as (positively) visible in this way, it's almost too much. it's a documentary at heart, but quite experimental in elements of its structure, with parts of it being a fictional telling of a middle-aged iranian trans man who works in an archive and is told of the history of trans men's inclusion in gay bathhouses, lou sullivan, and personal testimonies from gay transmasc people. sometimes you don't notice how deprived you've been until something gives you real oxygen

Hon. mentions: Joyland, Great Freedom, Die Beautiful my personal favourite queer films of 2023, still have me by the throat!!!

32. Do you do arts and crafts? Post a pic of a project you've done: okay I will share a picture of something, but I need to go take a picture when I have a sec. It's not complete, but I've started a little zine that's just a big collection of euphemisms and ways of talking about queerness and it's such a fascinating, fun project that's made me think more expansively about how queerness gets talked about, whether it's in the past or present (or potential futures), within and without the community, as modern, or bigoted, or outdated, or fun, or out-of-the-box, or specific, etc. -- it's very far from done, but I can give a sense of just how many words/phrases/concepts I've picked up + imagery I want to include + the construction of the zine itself, which has a few little secrets to it

[theinternetisfulloftrash]

Happy Holidays, everyone! I'm sorry I've been MIA. I'm not dead. Love you guys and I see my inbox has been graced with some lovely asks that I hope to get to soon!

[jellogram]

On the concept of "elevated horror"...

The whole concept of "elevated horror" as a recent trend is not only flatly incorrect, but also insulting to everyone involved. First of all, people have been making arthouse, non-stereotypical, and/or high quality horror since pretty much the dawn of film, but you rarely see those films mentioned as "elevated horror." Like... Silence of the Lambs? The Exorcist? Rosemary's Baby? The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari? Vampyr? All really well-made and groundbreaking horror films that had something new to say. The idea of making high quality horror with actual themes was not invented by A24.

Second of all, I don't like how this term differentiates films based on quality. No other genre is so disrespected that people feel a need to separate out the best made films into a subgenre. Do you hear people say "This is historical fiction, but it's good historical fiction!" or "This sci fi film elevates itself above regular science fiction!" No. Because people don't automatically assume those genres are trash.There's no subgenre of "good horror" as opposed to "regular horror." There's good and bad horror movies just like in any other genre.

Lastly, I think you do a disservice to trashy movies by assuming they have no skill or themes or messaging involved. One of the first films people throw under the bus is Friday the 13th, but that was a successful franchise for a reason — the first movie is undeniably pretty good, subverts audience expectations, and also provides insight into cultural attitudes of the era. And because it's a long-running series, you can watch those cultural attitudes evolve over time just by watching Friday the 13th sequels. There's a lot of value to that.

There's a lot of value to "trash cinema" in general. A movie that doesn't have quality standards is a movie that isn't bowing to societal norms or acceptance. Those $10 budget, horrid SFX, cringe-acted horror films exist in a forbidden space where critical reviews and mainstream audience approval aren't there to censor them. That is incredibly cool. Every stupid little terrible horror movie we have that survived decades and got digitized is a gift to the culture. We deserve to know what film enthusiasts were doing when they weren't the kind of people who could get massive studio budgets. Notably, you also see a lot more queer people, women, and POC in those spaces too. Horror makes space for the people who have been spat out by the mainstream.

And that's kind of the root of horror films, I think. They dig up the forbidden and put it on screen. So if you think the only horror films with any value are the ones that mainstream critics approve of, that aren't doing anything to upset the status quo, then you're missing the entire point.

[yourfavouritebookseller]

27th of October - 2nd of November

Bookseller Log 3

This week compared to the last is super uneventful. With the amount of donations coming in, its far too much for our small team to manage so we had to stop donations. Although its just clothing donations causing the issue, no donations means we aren't accepting anything and that includes books.

I thought instead I'd talk about the things I don't want to sell and how being picky about the choices has made the store more money. For context before I started my work would barely make over £150 on books. I've now been there for three years and the most I've made in a week for books is £700. So yeah, I'm a pretty big deal when it comes it book selling...

Here are my nemeses: Danielle Steele, Dilly Court, Anna Jacobs, Catherine Cookson, Maeve Binchy, 50 Shades of Grey, Readers Digest, Jamie Oliver cook books, Robert Galbraith and Michael Palin.

Now I'm not saying that some of these authors write bad books - there are many different reasons as to why I wouldn't sell certain ones. Danielle Steele, Dilly Court, Anna Jacobs, Catherine Cookson and Maeve Binchy all have the same problem which is that I have too much of them in stock. They are some of the best sellers and are usually being bought by one particular kind of customer. I always want to try to have as much variety on the shelves as possible and it can be a bit deflating to see five rows of nothing but stuff that you'd only see your granny reading.

There needs to be something for everyone. Older woman buy these authors above, most of the men buy historic novels, army ones, books about boxing and trains. Adults and younger people look for modern romances, fantasy, thrillers and literature. Of course that's just me simplifying certain audiences. A young woman might be hella into trains, a man might want to read a trashy romance and an elderly woman might fancy picking up a 700 page fantasy with complicated world building.

But you learn what certain customers like and occasionally someone will surprise you.

50 Shades of Grey I feel is pretty obvious - it fucking sucks, it isn't popular anymore and we can all recommend better smutty books.

Reader's Digests may look cool and uniform but they aren't as collectable anymore, they take up a lot of space and it's something that our shop isn't supposed to sell.

Jamie Oliver cook books. Look, I just don't like the guy...but when I do put them out on the shelves they don't move for weeks so really, I'm putting them out of their misery into the World of Books boxes.

Robert Galbraith is another I feel is understandable. She is an awful woman and I refuse to sell anything under this name as the history behind the pseudonym is disgusting. But that's a topic to dive into another time.

And Michael Palin books. Nothing personal Mr Palin but no one seems to want to buy your books so they gotta go.

There's plenty more I wouldn't sell but it then mostly just comes down to how old they are and the condition. But I hope this was sort of insightful? Just a book lady spilling out her silly thoughts.

[yelenasdiary]

https://www.tumblr.com/yelenasdiary/725457051446329344/okay-hear-me-out-this-is-giving-me-undercover?source=share

Can you do an hc about this? Undercover yelena with target's daughter reader? Thank you!

I'm so glad we can all see the vision 😏

This is kinda long, I hope this is along the lines of something you were after 🥰

Your mother owned an art gallery and would often run fundraisers to keep her name clean from the illegal activities she did while working for HYDRA.

She asked you to work a fundraiser to make her look good like always, so you did it with plenty of eye rolls, sighs and huffs.

Yelena had her eyes locked on you from the moment she walked into the room.

She was dressed as if she was a rich married woman from uptown, somebody your mother would get along great with.

She wait for the perfect moment before she came up and introduced herself to you, her hand was warm and soft. Her eyes sparkled in the room lighting, she was beautiful and you hated that she was probably just a snobby bitch like your mother.

Yelena asked to be introduced to your mother, saying she had something she wanted to discuss.

Yelena and your mother spoke for a few moments before you heard them arrange plans to have a further discussion after the fundraiser over some red wine.

After the fundraiser you could hear the chuckles from the two women coming from your mothers at home office, Yelena left after two hours max.

Yelena & your mother became close rather quickly over the course of a few short months. You didn't mind as much as you liked the blonde's company.

When your mother was working late and you had the house to yourself, sometimes Yelena would drop buy with a pizza and keep you company even though you reminded her that you're an adult and can look after yourself.

Things became off when Yelena stopped coming by to have a weekly bitch session with your mother. You noticed your mother was becoming stressed about something she didn't want to talk to you about.

You would text Yelena asking her if she knew what was up with your mother but she didn't reply, you just figured the two had a falling out and did your best to forget about the blonde.

One night while you were up late, listening to music with your earphones in, Yelena startled you. She was wearing a complete black outfit, spy wear basically. You asked her what was going on and she asked you to trust her.

She got you to safety where you met her friend, Kate.

When Yelena returned, she told you that you the truth about your mother in private. This broke your trust with her, now knowing she was undercover. It made you think she didn't actually care about you or the many times you both watched trashy movies over pizza.

Over time, you began to forgive Yelena, especially after Kate spoke to you and gave you a little insight to what HYDRA was and what they did to people.

During an argument with Yelena, she let slip that you were also supposed to die the night your mother did but she couldn't bring herself to do it because she had feelings for you.

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @jeyramarie | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @valiantmugcowboyscissors | @observeowl  | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @get-the-fuck-outta-here | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @marvelfan98 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @crescent-witch | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @natashamaximoff69 | @a-dorkier-book-keeper | @hehehehannahthings | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok | @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @toldthatdevil | @itsmv3 | @katiemay-025 | @maria-403 | @boredandneedfanfics | @wandamaximoffspuppup | @xox-little-troublemaker-xox | @irishhappiness | @music-4ever | 

[mossyivy]

I think the longest Leon and his wife could go without talk after a fight would be a few days, max like 3 or 4? Maybe a little longer if it was a big fight. As all couples do, they’d fight about something dumb, cuss, argue, separate for a while and have the kids talk for them. Like “violet tell your dad I said RED peppers. Do these peppers look red?” The peppers were in fact green. Or like “Cecelia tell your mom that she knows I don’t like when she uses too much detergent” petty stuff like that. But eventually they’d make up, he’d say something dumb in the middle of awkward silence to make her giggle from across the room :)

Realistically speaking I don't think they could go more than a day without talking to each other...

But the way they'd make up would be so stupid. Leon's been sleeping on the couch, he's in their bedroom grabbing his pajamas and you're watching the show you two usually watch together. (Some trashy reality TV show) And the contestant you both despise just starts talking and he just groans.

"God, not this fuckwit again." You just giggle and end up staring at each other. Leon looks back at the TV for a second before you speak this time.

"Never anything insightful, just constantly talking out of his ass." He smirks looking back at you as he starts changing.

He ends up sitting on the edge of the bed and slowing making his way up to laying next to you throughout the episode and by the time the eliminations start you two have kissed and made up. Celebrating that the contestant you hate is FINALLY going home!

[loving-n0t-heyting]

The popularity of nineteen eighty-four is somewhat mystifying in the same fashion as the enduring interest in the literary output of the marquis de Sade. The philosophy of the boudoir is one half lurid pornography, interspersed with another half of ridiculous 18th cent. French philosophy. Ppl enjoy both pornography and metaphysical sophistry, ofc, but neither genre particularly complements the other, and it would be perfectly possible to produce and consume either in pure form without having to splice the two unnaturally. And yet, ppl still read de Sade!

1984 is similar. It is equal and checkered parts moderately trashy pulp and jaded anti-totalitarian doomer socialist didacticism—and far be it from me to criticise either in their own right! He had some insightful things to say about politics (though with definite blindspots), and pulp is a vital medium of human expression. But you would think, given the existence of his prolific essays on the one hand and the vast reserves of midcentury page-turners on the other, anyone interested in either could more easily seek it out minus the needless dilution from the other, given that the rhetorical interludes in the romance (or the romantic interludes in the rhetoric) inevitably come across as so much teasing to anyone motivated by the narrative they are so gracelessly interrupting