#what if you wanted to draw but covid said fuck u

[somewhatidealname]

His head shapeshifts anything he wants, can Gabe do the birb dance with a birb head?

if he wanted to do a birb dance why stop at changing only his face

[leikeliscomet]

When it comes to AI art discourse I will always put the needs, wellbeing and actual reality of workers over hypothetical scenarios of what AI art could be. In an ideal world, AI art would be a tool for planning concepts and nothing more. But we don't live in that world. If companies can profit off of the art of their workers whilst underpaying or firing them to boost profit they will always pick that. And that's exactly what's happening.

Is there anti AI art rhetoric from the Human Artists/Anti AI art movement I disagree with? Yeah. I don't support the intellectual property arguments because corps like Disney won't sue AI bros bc they care about artist rights they do it bc they want full control of their brand and they'll weaponise that against human artists that create anything similar to that too without AI (and like they already did that). I don't hate every single technological thing ever made just bc it has the words 'AI' in it. I will never support the idea that traditional western realism > everything else. I will never support the idea of 'degenerate art'.

That being said, exploitation is exploitation. Companies taking the work of artists without consent and profiting off it whilst underpaying and/or firing those artists is wrong. This is what the main focus should be. "Oh but with these anti AI folks what if companies restrict us from accessing their work?" That's already happening . With or without AI we're stuck in this dutty capitalist society but bc AI art is now a factor it needs to be addressed. Generative AI was never just about artists it bleeds into a consent issue too regardless of industry. Generative images don't just apply to drawings it applies to all imagery including of people. Yes 'but think of the children' is weaponised as a conservative talking point but AI child porn is a problem. Taking people's imagery and voice to create false images of them is a problem. Creating false images and claiming they're real historical documents is a problem. Not being able to tell if the images you see are real is a problem.

I hate the wokewashing of AI. I hate people claiming AI art pictures of Wakandan Black couples or the Slitheen holding a pride flag is supposed to support us little people meanwhile being LGBTQIA, a POC, a woman, disabled, working class etc. already puts barriers on barriers to get into the creative industry bc no one gives a fuck about our work in the 1st place. The creative industry's already crumbling bc of COVID, cost of living and the underfunding of the arts thanks to the tories. If people with masters who've been working for years are getting dropped like hot potatoes what hope is there for the rest of us? I'm rolling my eyes at every single leftist treating AI art as a fun quirky debate meanwhile making fun of the workers they're supposed to care about. Giggling about AI art sticking it to the bourgeois uppity twitter anime artists whilst AI corps rake in millions. Every single silicon valley AI corp doesn't give a fuck about class liberation I promise you. Rich people exist in every industry. There's nothing bourgeois about selling comms bc u can't afford rent and medical bills. Furry artists aren't the bourgeoise can you lot get a fucking grip?

And I'm tired of every clapped false equivalence you lot think is smart. Comparing digital art to AI bc you generally think Ibis Paint or some shit actually makes the art for you. Comparing AI art to photography as if photographers don't pay and credit the models they work with. Comparing AI art to fanart as if fan artists claim ownership of the characters they draw and the media they're from. Comparing AI art to piracy bc u think individual artists are the same as big conglomerates. Comparing being anti ai art to white supremacist moral panics are u clapped? This is what anti-art intellectualism gets us. Art as a product for profit and nothing more. Consume consume consume who cares about the people making it and how we get that end product right?

I'm gonna start softblocking/unfollowing some of u lot and I don't care if I sound extra cus I'm so tired. You can't ethically create false images of people without consent. You can't ethically use workers' labour whilst underpaying them. I don't think any group of workers I don't like deserves to be exploited just bc they said annoying things on the internet. You lot aren't progressives you're anti SJWs with hammers and sickles.

[rosarrie]

It would be so fucking easy for you to AT THE VERY LEAST not use the term cottagecore and yet, despite being aware of its racism, you continue to spit in the face of First Nations people. You prioritize your racist little aesthetic over listening to First Nations people and you cannot be bothered to take even the most easy and basic of actions to stand with them. You cannot put even the most minimum of effort in and you continue to tie your art into a racist sunculture. You’re a racist, you don’t give a fuck about Indigenous people and you can go to hell.

 I've gotten multiple messages about this now in the same tone so I'm going to assume it's the same person sending them.

I’m going to use this as a chance to talk about the aesthetic of cottagecore as a whole in this post so it’s gonna be a long one. Hopefully this sheds more light on my current stance on the matter.

(I literally have no credibility aside from the fact i draw cute animals on the internet and call it cottagecore but I just gotta make my peace w this person)

I’d like to start by saying I never want to hurt people with my art, that is never my intention, whether intentionally or unintentionally. My art is made to make people happy and so being accused of hurting anyone with what I make upsets me and urges me to make things right.

There’s plenty of arguments to be made about the aesthetic, and I’m not here to be it’s guardian angel, this isn’t a hill I’m gonna die on. I acknowledge that there's problems even within the very concept of the aesthetic itself, but I also don't believe repeatedly accusing me of supporting harmful behavior is the right way of changing this and I'd like to respond to it in a constructive way. I'm also gonna be linking to a bunch of articles/posts regarding the conversation that I think were insightful.

Here’s the main points/problems I'm gonna talk about

To romanticise the idea of living in a house amongst nature away from society is ignoring the struggles of many indigenous people still trying to reclaim land. If everyone were to uproot and go live in a house in the forest away from civilization, you're taking away potentially important land to indigenous people in that area.

It is VERY white. There is an imbalance of POC creators in the cottagecore space, just type in “cottagecore” to google images or pinterest and there’s your proof.

The visuals are closely related to the trad-wife subculture, which is deeply rooted in white-supremacy and the alt-right.

Here’s my take:

Cottagecore is a form of escapism, easily evident in the aesthetic’s rise during the beginning of COVID-19. It’s a form of escapism the same way movies and books are. I can appreciate it’s visual elements while not actively participating in a lot of the activities depicted. I promise you I’m not going to go running off to the woods and building a cabin any time soon. I can understand the anger over trivializing the action of taking away potentially important land for its aesthetic value, but I also don’t think it’s in good faith to assume this is a genuine reality that is going to happen. The majority of people appreciating cottagecore are young, often times queer people looking to it as a form of escapism, not a step-by-step guide.

With that being said, there are however core principles within the subculture. It prioritizes handmade ethically sourced products and sustainability. It thrives off the importance of caring for the space u live in, actively shunning things like fast-fashion and encouraging the integration of slow-living practices into your own life (gardening, growing ur own fruit and veg, learning to cook, etc)

Cottagecore is incredibly white. Very rarely do I see non-white creators being spotlighted, and even when I do, their reach and audience is not nearly as much as their white counterparts. Addressing this issue through actionable achievable tasks feels like, where do u even begin. but I guess talking about the issue? Lifting poc voices within the community? I’m really not someone who should be a voice for this (as a white bitch myself) but I can acknowledge that there is actionable tasks I can take as someone with somewhat of a platform to at least help. I acknowledge the issue, I don’t know entirely what the solution is, but I’ll try to do better.

In regards to the trad-wife similarities, I can understand the argument being made, but the values of each subculture are so vastly different that it seems unreasonable to put them in the same category. Cottagecore is built on the fact that it’s a queer-centric feminist form of escapism, while Trad-wife principles originate from traditionalist christian values of being a mother and providing for your family. I think the overall intention of the comparison is to be made aware of how easily conversation around idyllic cottagecore lifestyle can blend into far-right rhetoric (this post does a great job of highlighting the similarities), but to say the two cannot exist separate of each other feels wrong. I’d like to think I am able to enjoy the cottagecore aesthetic while still critically consuming its content.

At it’s core (lol), cottagecore is a queer-friendly sub-culture that prioritizes nature, slow-living and the soft dainty aesthetic that can be associated. I am able to be critical of it’s downfalls while also still actively appreciating it for all it’s positive elements.

I am always open to the conversation around this topic! There’s definitely still plenty I don’t know about, and I am always eager to learn and better my judgment on things like this.

However! This is the last message I’m going to engage with that immediately jumps to accusatory language! Telling me to “go to hell” for using #cottagecore on my dumb cute art because it proves to u that I'm a racist is not a good use of ur efforts. PLEASE direct your anger somewhere else, I know this is coming from a well-intending place because you’re rightfully angry about injustices that are still present today, but pointing that anger at a 20-something-yr-old artist on the internet that draw frogs and calls it cottagecore is not a productive use of ur time.

Anyway thank u for listening, my dm’s are always open. feel free to reply with ur thoughts. Much love

[trin-gvf]

D.R.W - dirty little secret

2.8k words minors DNI

danny x fem!reader

WARNINGS: daddy kink, gagging, slapping, degradation, cheating, spit, basically whatever u can think of

daniel robert wagner. what you wouldn't do for that man. one problem. he has a girlfriend. jordan. she was sweet of course but oh god was she a fucking airhead. you could fuck her boyfriend behind her back and she would never find out.

you had known danny since forever but never close enough to actually talk to him. he was in a band and seemed untouchable. that made you want him even fucking more. the way he played on stage made you dive your hand in your panties a great number of times. watching him play on stage was nothing but pure sex appeal.

one night after coming down from yet another high while looking at danny's instagram page you saw a particular comment.

jordieswxrld: so handsome! 💞

you were quick to tap on her account and message her.

y/n: hi girlie! you don't know me but I'm friends with the band and figured we could hang sometime!

jordieswxrld: omg hi!! i'd be down!

y/n: perf! does tomorrow at the tangle hearts cafe work?

jordieswxrld: it does!! how about 2ish?

perfect.

you continued to message her about stupid shit like your favorite colors, foods, how you met the boys, etc. you both agreed to bring one of the boys along. you got josh to agree and she said daniel would come along with her.

you set your phone down and drifted off to bed.

the next day you planned a perfect outfit. one that didn't draw too much unwanted attention but one you hoped would make danny notice you. even a little sneak at your cleavage would've made you happy. you slipped into a light brown cropped tank top with black high waisted pants. since it was starting to get cold you threw on a white knitted cardigan and some boots to top it off.

you looked over your outfit once more before meeting josh in your living room.

"ready to go?" you asked before grabbing your over the shoulder purse. he nodded and opened the door for you.

"i'm glad you're finally giving danny a chance, he's a cool dude." josh spoke whilst backing out of your driveway.

"yeah, i just guess i never felt the need." which a complete half assed answer and you knew josh knew that. it was an absolute lie. you never got to know danny because you'd eye fuck him everytime you'd come around him. every word you would have spoken to him would be dripping in lust. your words would have flowed like a spoon drenched honey, dripping back into the bottle with the sun casting a golden hue onto the counter.

the ride to the cafe was short, it wasn't too far from your house. the second you laid eyes on danny and his god awful girlfriend you didn't know whether to be happy around danny or annoyed to be around jordan.

as you got closer to the table, you presented a smile. danny and jordan got up, jordan greeting you with a hug first. danny greeted you with another hug, this one just a second longer than the one you had with his girlfriend. his cologne engulfed you. the scent alone made you want to rip his clothes off and go at it until you both had not an ounce of energy left in you.

"it's amazing to finally meet you! i've heard so many great things. i've just never managed to find time to hang out!" you said, faking your best friendly voice.

"ohh! i'm sure! you work at a big company i'm sure it's hard to find free time!" she said back.

"oh it really is!" you said sipping on your americano.

"i barely got today off." you spoke out, making casual talk.

"so, what is it you do?" danny chirped up.

"oh- well i work as a medical front desk receptionist. it wasn't too bad in the beginning but with covid, we're all so in demand so it's almost impossible to get any days off." you explained, taking in danny's every movement, every detail. his brown curls softly bounced with every movement his head made. the way he paid attention to your every word. you felt almost as if you were talking his ears off just to watch his eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips.

for a moment you thought he was an actual angel on earth sent down to bless your body with some holy feeling. but the feeling was much less than holy. the exact opposite to be specific. maybe an angel sent from hell.

"y/n…y/n!" you said, getting snapped out of your thoughts by josh tapping you on the side of your arm.

"what?" you barked back, clearly annoyed.

"danny asked you a fucking question dip shit." josh yelled into your ear.

"shut the fuck up josh, youre so loud! sorry danny, i was in my own world for a second!"

"that's okay, y/n. i was wondering if you were going to be at the show tonight. maybe we could all go to a bar after the show." he suggested.

"oh definitely! that sounds like so much fun."

the boys were kicking off their first leg of tour right here in their home state, michigan.

the rest of the day was spent in that little cafe, you taking in every beautiful detail of what was the man in front of you.

when it was time for your departure, you hugged them all goodbye.

"bye you guys! see you tonight!" jordan said, walking back to the car with daniel.

"he is really cool." you said looking down at your feet.

"told you." josh said with a smug smirk.

josh dropped you off at your house before going to the venue he needed to be at for sound check.

you quickly ran to your room, desperately searching for an outfit when you came across two items you knew would work well together. you decided to go with the band's theme.

you dressed in a body suit that was a gold velvet texture. it was two pieces of material covering your tits just right. it gave enough cleavage but you could jump around to the music if you really wanted. you found a chain belt to hang around your waist. it was also gold with suns on it. the suns has faces on them and it was very much one of your favorite possessions.

you paired them with nude stilettos and started on your makeup. you went with a basic gold glitter on your eyelids with black winged liner. you carefully placed gemstones under your eyes, mimicking what josh usually has when he's on stage.

you took an uber to the venue, not wanting to deal with the mess that was parking. as you went behind the building, you showed your pass to the security guards and met up with the boys backstage as they were about to go on. you saw the kiszka's, danny and everyone's girlfriends but dannys.

as you walked up to danny, asking him where jordan had been.

"she had to be with her family, it was an emergency." he said, he sounded sad but not too bad to the point you felt the need to feel bad for him. maybe this was your chance. with all the pent up energy he'd have from performing, he'd need to take it out somewhere. right?

you gave him a long hug before slowly taking a curl of his into your hand and slowly slid it between your two fingers.

"you look good tonight. goodluck." you whispered into his ear, placing a hand on his chest before walking away to get a drink. you smirked to yourself, hoping you had gotten to him. you'd definitely shown enough of your tits for him to check you out at least a couple times at the cafe earlier in the day.

as you went back backstage, you saw the boys giving it their all to the fans. as you leaned against a wall, you noticed danny eyeing you every so often when josh would take a moment to give the crowd a heartfelt speech.

as you took a sip of your white claw, you managed to "accidentally" dribble some onto your chest. you made a fake surprised face and took the drops of it onto your finger. making sure danny was looking, you lapped the liquid off your finger, making eye contact with danny.

you watched danny take a hard gulp, shaking whatever thoughts he had going on in his beautiful mind.

during their last song, you made your way to his changing room. you took a seat on his couch, crossing your legs and scrolling on your phone mindlessly until you heard the doorknob turning. you quickly shoo-ed your phone away and put on a smug smirk plastered on your face.

as he walked into the room, he was shirtless and covered in sweat. if he asked you to, you'd lick the sweat off the soft skin of his chest. his chest was moving like mountains, heaving up and down because of the adrenaline pulsing through his veins.

"what are you doing here, y/n?" he sounded shocked. really you couldn't blame him.

"hm. just..chilling i guess, daniel."

you could tell your words were working their magic. his eyes slowly darkened as his pupils expanded, making his eyes look black and full of pure lust. you looked at him with hooded eyes as you got up, dabbing his sweat off with a cooled towel.

"you seemed distracted daniel. what happened tonight?" you giggled as you slowly backed him up against the counter multiple makeup products were laid on.

"you know what the fuck my problem was y/n." his voice was much darker now, sending another gush of desire in between your legs.

"tell me, my sweet daniel. what was the problem." the sentence was more of a command at this point. both of your voices were low, not risking getting caught by any of the other brothers.

"my problem is that you eye fuck me any and every chance you get." he said through gritted teeth.

you softly placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"i'm so much better than her daniel. i promise you that."

as you slowly pulled away from his body, he brought you back in with his hands digging into your skin.

"y/n.." he muttered.

"i've looked at you for so long, daniel. imagining how you'd feel against my body. imagining how much heat our bodies could produce together."

"if you keep talking like that i'm ripping your clothes off and fucking you dumb right here, right now." he said, pushing his very noticeable boner onto your thigh.

you were once, lost for words. not a single thought other than fucking the man in front of you were floating around your pathetic little mind.

"you don't think i didn't notice when you were bending over the table today? showing me your tits?"

you felt your bodies switch places. you were now pressed against the counter. you both were unbelievably hot and bothered. danny leaned down to place little kisses to your neck.

"what? you'd love be my filthy fucking secret. wouldn't you? getting fucked by me everytime shes not around."

"i'd love to be your dirty little secret, danny." you said, nibbling his ear lobe before slowly falling down to your knees. you undid his belt and undoing his pants. you watched them fall to the ground. you were left with his dick print outlined on his boxers. you wanted nothing more than to pull them down his thighs and shove his cock down your throat. yet, you refrained of doing so. you wanted to take your time with him.

you slowly outlined the tip of his cock, licking up the precum that had beaded through the fabric. you savored the salty taste on your lips before slowly pulling down his boxers. you softly gasped at his size, looking up at him.

"be a good girl and suck my cock like you're supposed to." he muttered, looking down at you. his hair was softly framing his face, his lips turning red due to softly biting on them.

you did as you were told and started with the tip, getting it wet and slobbered up. after doing so you ran your tongue under his shaft before taking about half of his dick into your mouth. he gathered your hair into his hand and made a ponytail with it, holding it together.

"c'mon now, you can do better than that. now can't you?" he said, pushing his cock down your throat. you let out a rather loud gag.

"look at you. acting like a whore and you can't even take my fucking cock." he growled, giving you a slap to your face.

he pushed his cock down your throat once more, leaving it there for a second.

"breathe through your nose, calm down." he smirked, loving to watch the struggle. when you gargled against his dick he let you off. a thick strand of spit connecting you to his cock. your mascara was slowly running down your face from your eyes watering while you gagged.

he stood you up, slipping you out of your body suit. you kicked your shoes off and he did so. the kiss you were currently sharing was full of moans and wet noises.

he pushed you back onto the couch and bent down to his knees. he slapped your pussy a couple times, causing you to jerk your body.

"danny please-"

"don't fucking speak unless your calling me daddy. do you understand?"

you were yet again at a loss for words.

"yes…i- yes daddy."

he pulled you to his mouth, giving a big fat lick, licking up every ounce of wetness you'd produced.

"you taste like fucking heaven. and this? is this for me?"

you nodded as he went back down on you. you covered your mouth, trying to be as quiet as possible.

he sucked on your clit, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. the hand that was placed over your mouth was now yanking hard on danny's hair.

"fuck daddy, youre so fucking good- holy shit!" you whisper yelled as intense pleasure coursed through you.

"let me hear you. your pathetic whines."

"danny what abou-"

"don't. fucking. question me." he barked out at you.

he fucked you with his tongue, causing you to tense every muscle in your body.

"daddy- fuck! i'm gunna-!" you cried out as you came over his face. he pulled away, his chin glistening with your arousal.

as you caught your breath, he walked over to grab his belt.

"on your knees." was all he spoke as you sat on your knees, facing away from him.

he grabbed your hands and quickly tied them together with his belt. how he knew how to do this? you would never know. and never would you have ever guessed daniel was so kinky.

he pushed you down, your chest hitting the back of the couch. a rough moan released from deep within your chest when danny stuffed his cock into your cunt. wet noises were bouncing off the walls, along with daniel's grunts and your moans. he grabbed your hands that were now tied together, using it to thrust into you. he took no time before going at almost impossible pace.

you were taking every feeling in, you couldn't help but let your mind go blank. your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your mouth was hung open.

"look at you. putty in my fucking hands. you came at me and now my cock is too much for your pathetic little self." he said, giving your ass a good couple slaps.

you started drooling, like you cared. you'd be a mess after this anyway. he threw his head back and gave the other side of your ass the same amount of slaps, evening everything out.

you were so close to the edge. so so close to feeling that burst of release you've been needing for god knows how long.

"daddy- i'm so close. don't stop- oh fucking god! don't fucking stop!"

a couple more thrusts and danny was pushing his cock further into you, painting your walls with his cum. you on the other hand, started to cry as you felt your orgasm. the feeling being almost too much for you. you were almost screaming by the time you were shaking over daniel's cock.

both of your breaths were unsteady and heartbeats going as fast as rabbits.

"holy shit." he said as he pulled out. his cum leaked out of you as he undid the belt around your wrists.

"look at that. my very own cock slut. hm." he said in almost a coo-ing voice.

he helped you wash up and even took your makeup off of your face before changing into some of his comfy clothes. you left long before he had to.

at the end of the day you felt happy you finally got what you needed. you were sore most definitely, but so fucking happy.

[master-sass-blast]

Gifted.

*tosses escapism fic into the void* yeet.

Summary: You and Piotr go Christmas shopping and enjoy the holiday season. 

That's it. That's all that's happening. You're welcome.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader and mentioned Illyana Rasputin x Kitty Pryde.

Rating: G.

Word Count: 2k precisely.

Set after “It’s Truly Magical.”

A/N: On the off-chance someone asks or is worried, yes, there are no mentions of masks or social distancing in this fic. That's because, in this fic, there is no COVID (ergo, no need for masks and such). I'm just not dealing with it in my fanfic as well. I won't. You can't make me.

Wear your fucking masks irl pls and thank u.

Taglist:  @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @super-darkcloudstudent, @dandyqueen, @leo-writer

“What a bright time, it's the right time/ To rock the night away/ Jingle bell time is a swell time/ To go glidin' in a one-horse sleigh…”

You inhale deeply, then smile. The smells of fresh pretzels and pine –the latter is likely a fake scent that the stores use, but it’s still good—tantalize your nose. You tuck your hat and gloves in your purse, then look over at your husband. “Where all are we going?”

“Ah…” Piotr scans his list –which has notes on which stores to check and what order the stores are laid out in the mall, so as to streamline things. “Kitty said she did not want gifts because she does not celebrate Christmas, so we are just shopping for… my family and Russell. You said you already bought gifts for your dad and Wade?”

“Yup,” you say with a grin. Nate’s easy to shop for –ammo, clothes, and the odd book or two are usually all he want—and for Wade you just find the weirdest stuff listed on Amazon. “And I already sent my uncle a gift from us, so we don’t have to worry about him.”

Piotr nods, ‘hmm-ing’ as he makes a note on his list. “Okay.” He mumbles in Russian under his breath, then says, “Mama had no list this year; I think we start with her first since figuring out gift will take longer.”

“That’s fine. Where should we start?”

“I think bookstore is best bet. From there, we can stop by Hot Topic and candle shop for snezhinka, then Game Stop for Mikhail.”

“Sounds good.” You link your arm through his and smile up at him. “Lead the way, babe.”

 ***

 You glance between the piles of books on the table, then at your husband, who looks like he’s about to pull his hair out. “Do you think that, just maybe, you’re overthinking this? Just a little?”

“This is important,” Piotr insists as he skims through books from various areas of Barnes and Noble –cooking, history, fiction; he’d grabbed at least one book from nearly every section. “She has specific tastes. Cannot be just any old book.”

You purse your lips together. You don’t doubt that Alexandra has particular tastes in reading material –as a woman from her walk in life is bound to have—but you’re also certain that she wouldn’t want her son driving himself insane just to pick a present for her. You sit down next to Piotr and gently put your hand on his arm. “Sweetheart. She’s going to like whatever you get her.”

“Not necessarily. I have seen her toss many books aside with scoff and never pick them up again.”

“Okay, why?”

He shrugs. “Realism. She thinks some authors are ‘too indulgent’ or ‘too unrealistic.’”

“Alright, so maybe we leave out the crime and romance stuff,” you suggest, setting the few books he’d grabbed from those areas aside. “What does she like to do?”

Piotr goes quiet. His expression grows ashen as he contemplates the question. “I… don’t know.”

“Does she like to cook? Or draw? Or watch certain types of shows or movies?”

“I don’t know,” he repeats, more insistent. “She…” He sighs. “She never sits still. I don’t think any shows or movies interest her. When I was child, she always worked. On farm, taking care of animals, helping workers, making food, balancing accounts, translating letters and schoolwork… I never saw her rest. Do something for herself.”

You let out a soft snort. “Maybe a book on meditation.”

Piotr rolls his eyes, grinning. “Perhaps not.”

“Who does she like to be around, then?”

“Otets.” Piotr smiles when the answer comes easily. “She and my father” –he holds up two crossed fingers—“are like this. Aside from siblings and me, I think he is only person she is really close to.”

“Alright, maybe a cookbook, then. That’d give them something to do together.”

Piotr nods, then starts looking through the cookbooks he’d picked. “Question is, which one?”

“Well, we know she likes to stay busy and keep moving. Maybe something that’d challenge their skills? Something they haven’t tried?” You hold up a book boasting ‘rich and authentic Middle Eastern recipes.’ “This could be good. I think they’d have access to most of the ingredients, here in New York.”

He nods again, then sets the aforementioned book aside before checking over the other ones. “I think…” He lifts a hardcover thriller novel off the table. “She likes mysteries. This one has good reviews… maybe…”

You gently take the book from his hands and set it atop the Middle Eastern cookbook. “I think it’s a great choice.”

He smiles, then kisses your cheek. “Spasibo, myshka.”

 ***

 “Bozhe moi.”

You giggle as the two of you step over the threshold of the Yankee Candle store, only for Piotr to recoil and take a step back. “You good there, baby?”

He presses his fingers against the sides of his nose. “Is like… assault of smells.”

“I know.” You inhale deeply, them flash him an impish smile. “Isn’t it great?” 

Piotr groans, still rubbing his sinuses. “Do you mind—”

“I’ll find a candle for Illyana. Wanna meet up in Gamestop?”

“Spasibo, dorogoy.”

You blow him a kiss, then head into the candle store. You take a couple minutes to peruse the holiday display at the front of the store –and grab a couple votives for you and Piotr to enjoy—before heading towards the back of the store, where all the shelves of their regular candles are. You pause to smell your favorites –seriously, the McIntosh apple one never fails to make your mouth water—before taking a step back to survey your options. Alright, what to get for a mildly angsty, queer Russian goth?

It’s not as straightforward as it sounds (har har). Illyana’s an enigma, much like her mother. She’s quiet, keeps to herself, and doesn’t usually bother with convention.

Do I go for aesthetic? You pick up a pitch black candle labeled “Midnight Forest” and give it a cursory sniff. Ugh, smells like ass. No, thank you.

You also have to consider that whatever you get is likely going to be smelled by Kitty, too. As much as Illyana marches to the beat of her own drum, she’s surprisingly conscientious of her bubbly, energetic girlfriend.

Maybe something natural? Like the farm? You try a few options, wrinkling your nose after each sniff. God, what is it with the fresh scents and smelling heinous? You debate texting Piotr and dragging him back in here, if only so you’re certain you’ll get something Illyana would like—

And then it hits you over the head like a brick.

She’s gonna use these for meditation. You head down the rows of shelves, grab a jar labeled “Vanilla,” and give it a smell. Perfect. Not too strong, not too bland. You grab a lavender scented tumbler (for relaxation), then snag a pink one that smells like the perfume Kitty favors on a hunch it’ll be a hit.

By the time you pay for yours and Illyana’s candles, Piotr’s already waiting outside the Gamestop for you, bag in hand.

He eyes your bulging bags, eyebrow raising in trepidation. “Why…”

“Look, it’s your fault for abandoning me,” you say before he can point out your lack of self-control. “You know I’m weak for candles.”

Piotr snorts, then sighs. “Fair enough.” He nods and makes approving noises when you show him the picks you made for Illyana, then shows you what he grabbed for Mikhail.

“‘Mister Mosquito?’” You nearly double over laughing. “What even is this?”

“He wanted ‘weird video game,’” Piotr says, shrugging one shoulder. “I figure this should do.”

“He’s gonna love it,” you reassure your husband. “That’s weird as shit.” You start strolling along the main hall of the mall –and then your stomach rumbles. “Can we get pretzels?”

“Da, myshka,” Piotr chuckles, “we can get pretzels.”

 ***

 “There'll be parties for hosting/ marshmallows for toasting/ and caroling out in the snow/ there'll be scary ghost stories/ and tales of the glories of/ Christmases long, long ago…”

“It’s the most! Wonderful time! Of the year!” you sing along as you rip another chunk off your pretzel. You smile to yourself as you admire the glittering, twinkling decorations decking the food court. “How’s your pretzel?”

“Very tasty.” Piotr dips a bite of his pretzel in some mustard, pops it in his mouth, then swallows before wiping his fingers on a napkin. “I think we only have handful of stops left.”

“Couple of sweaters for your dad… weird socks and-or scarves for Mikhail…” You lean over, reading off the list in his hand (which is written in a mixture of Russian and English). You take another bite of pretzel, then tap on a portion of blended “Russi-nglish” that you can’t decipher. “What’s that?” you ask once your mouth is clear.

“Random gift options,” he translates. “For filling out presents, stockings, that sort of thing.” He touches the tip of his index finger to the page, moving down the list in order. “Chocolate, books, gift cards. Guaranteed hits, essentially.”

“Ooh, I could go for some chocolate.”

Piotr snorts. “You just had pretzel. And this is for others, myshka.”

“If it’s in the car with me, I make no promises.”

He laughs, then makes an extra note on his list. “Safety chocolate… for myshka. Got it.”

 ***

 “Here, dorogoy.”

“Oh, thank you!” You smile as Piotr takes some of the excess bags from your hands, shifting them so he can carry them (which, with his strength and the size of his hands, is no problem at all). You amble along next to him, admiring the various pop-up stands boasting games, calendars, and Christmas-themed treats. “Is there anywhere else we need to stop?”

“I believe we have everything.”

“And I’m guessing we need to head home so we can make dinner?”

“That would be best, da.” Piotr looks down at you, expression curious. “Why? There is somewhere you wish to stop?”

“Eh, not really,” you say with a shrug. “I just like coming to the mall during this time of year. The decorations, the music, the extra stands and seasonal gifts… It just makes me happy.”

“Aah, khorosho. I understand. We can come back later for date, if you like. Take time to walk around and admire stores.”

You grin up at him. “I’d like that.”

The two of you make to head out of the mall, back to the parking lot—

And then Piotr veers towards the right.

“Where are we going?” you ask, giggling as he leads you towards the bookstore. “I thought we already got everything we needed from here?”

He winks at you. “Trip is not complete yet. Not with hot chocolate, anyway.”

You grin and let him guide you over to the café in the bookstore.

Piotr gets you situated at a table near the expanse of windows at the front of the shop. He leaves your bags with you, then leads up at the counter to order your drinks.

You smile, lovestruck as you gaze over at him. How did I get so lucky? You lean back in your seat, taking a moment to admire the snow falling outside before checking out the decorations throughout the store…

Which is when you realize that there’s mistletoe hanging over your table.

You chuckle to yourself. Perfect.

“You are in good mood,” Piotr comments as he returns with two cups of hot chocolate.

“Of course, I am,” you admit with a broad grin. “I’ve got you. And tradition’s on our side.”

Piotr’s smile turns quizzical. He cocks his head to the side, staring at you for a moment, then looks up when you point towards the ceiling. “Ah,” he chuckles, “yes. That is good reason to be happy.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” You hook your finger under the collar of his shirt and gently tug him towards you. “Come here, handsome.”

He lets out a soft, happy giggle and bends down to kiss you.

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Teen Witch

Controversial opinion: stories about witches are the best stories. Just look at WandaVision - bitches ate that UP because it’s about WITCHES, which means it’s ultimately about loss and trauma and female (literal) empowerment in the face of those tragedies (and I mean there’s some complicated stuff in there about inflicting trauma upon others, even accidentally, and that’s kind of a witch thing too). And Sabrina is all well and good and everything, but what if you want your witch story to be a little less Dark Arts and a little more candy-coated? Have I got the film for you! Wes requested Teen Witch as part of his quest to expand my cheesy 80s cult classic knowledge, and boy did this one deliver. How 80s-tastic are we talking? Well...

The basic story is this: Louise (Robyn Lively) is a typical teen girl who occupies the nerd level of the high school hierarchy. You know the type - soft-spoken, nerdy best friend, has a crush on the cutest guy in school (Dan Gauthier), made fun of in gym class by all the cheerleaders. One day she crashes her bike in front of a psychic’s home/place of business and goes inside to use the phone, but gets her palm read first. The psychic, named Madame Serena, (Zelda Rubenstein, playing, I’m assuming, herself) tells her she will soon come into some witchy powers on her 16th birthday. When Louise’s birthday rolls around, you guessed it - witching aplenty. She gets the popularity, she gets the cute guy, she ditches her nerdy friend; it’s basically The Princess Diaries without Queen Julie Andrews. But then, y’know, she learns a valuable lesson about the high price of popularity and how important it is to be true to yourse--wait, no she doesn’t, she takes off her magic necklace and smooches with the boy she likes at the school dance and that’s how it ends.

Some thoughts:

This slow motion credit sequence is incredible. See, we just don’t have this anymore, where the movie starts and you have no fucking idea what’s going on. The 80s really knew how to draw an audience in. Is this a dream? Is this a music video? No one knows! That’s why it’s exciting!

Why are tv and movies so obsessed with a completely made-up depiction of what takes place outside a high school’s entrance before the first bell? Apparently there’s a busker festival going on at this high school every day - there’s guys doing BMX tricks, an all white rap group, I think I saw some jugglers.

I’ve actually taught in both middle and high school, so I know this English teacher (Shelley Berman) wouldn’t be fired for being such a shitty teacher, but he should be. 

Is this like...a musical? First there was the terrible rapping, now there are cheerleaders doing “the new cheer” which is literally a song just saying “I...LIKE...BOYS!” and there’s a dance routine on top of lockers - there’s a lot of towel choreography. It feels like a musical in the sense that it’s nonsensical, but I don’t actually think it IS a musical. Genre-defying!

It’s kinda creepy that Louise is watching an extended montage of Brad (Gauthier) working out shirtless from the shadows but like...same, girl. Damn, Brad.

Aw, at least Brad is reasonably nice. Louise, show some backbone! You shouldn’t have been too proud to let him drive you home after he ran you off the road on your bike accidentally!

I am just mystified by the market for roles that were appropriate for Zelda Rubenstein in the 80s. What is this niche? Which came first, Zelda Rubenstein, or these characters? 

I am also mystified by this gremliny little brother (Joshua John Miller) who seems to be obsessed with eating cake and never washing his hair. He’s like a goblin trapped in a diminutive nonbinary body made of pizza and spite. [ETA: I now feel a little bad for finding him so repellent in this, as the actor wrote one of my favorite meta horror movies, The Final Girls, in 2015. So at least he grew up and made something cool of himself.]

OMFG did Brad just hit the soda machine for her like the fucking Fonz? 

There is (temporarily) a Very Good Dog who is not harmed in any way.

In what universe does Louise see what her date, David (Jared Chandler), is wearing and be like “he’s such a geek” when she looks like an extra from Leave it to Beaver. 

The DJ just said “OK guys, grab your wallets, it’s a slow song.” What...does that even mean? Is he implying that slow dances are expensive? Ooh or even more nefarious, that there’s a rampant pickpocketing problem during slow dances?

Did Louise...just imply that the number of light years away a star is dictates how soon a wish you make on that star would come true? Listen. I’m no astrophysicist. But I have read enough Neil Degrasse Tyson tweets to know that that’s not how any of this works. 

OK I take back what I said, David is a fucking CREEP. Drag his ass, Louise. However, I think she may have straight up murdered him by making him disappear. David is never seen or heard from again in this film. 

Obsessed with the dad’s sweaters both because they are ridiculous and because he is the lesser Darren from the original Bewitched. 

It feels weird that Louise’s revenge involves forcing Mr. Weaver to take his clothes off in front of the class.Who wants that? Like I get that it’s humiliating for him, but really, you’re only punishing yourself here Louise. 

There is a rap-off that is meant to convey electric sexual tension between two nerdy ass white kids. 

I don’t know what it was like at your school, but I can tell you for sure that at my high school no one ever applauded when the most popular girl in school walked into the classroom like she’s Kramer making an entrance on Seinfeld.

Why is Brad taking her to an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere? And why is she wearing heels?

Oh god she took the heels off and now she’s barefoot in this decrepit house, that’s so much worse! TETANUS EXISTS LOUISE.

Wait are they going to fuck in the abandoned house? Brad has a girlfriend! You brought heels, but did you bring condoms?? I guess she has bigger concerns than tetanus now. Also I feel so bad for these actors, they are both DRIPPING sweat. That must have been a miserable shoot.

I’ve said this before, but the 80s were such an incredible time for himbo fashion. Crop tops, those tank tops with the giant holes for the arms, teeny little basketball shorts. In the 90s all we had were JNCOs and weirdly “urbanized” Looney Tunes characters on baggy t-shirts. Gen X has no idea how good they had it re: male fashion. 

I’m genuinely obsessed with the idea that popularity means the school just has banners all over that say “LOUISE” and she gets like, cards and fan mail that say “Louise U R the best.” This feels like if you ask a kindergartner what being popular means.

Madame Serena just said “the real magic is believing in yourself” which is exactly what Louise’s dad said like 15 minutes ago, but I guess he wasn’t a 3-foot-tall witch so no one paid attention when he said it. 

Y’know for an 80s prom outfit, Louise’s dress is pretty cute. 

I cannot stress enough that Brad’s girlfriend is at this dance while he and Louise are kissing! Does no one care? Were high school attitudes toward monogamy just way more flexible in the 80s? 

Did I Cry? Shyeah, right. 

This is such an odd, mostly charming, but wildly perplexing little movie. There was no antagonist or real conflict here, at all. Louise barely struggles with any sort of tension or remorse about having her powers and what it means for her life, she just kind of decides at the end that she’s over it, and she still gets the guy and no actual negative consequences from bending the entire school to her will for the past few months. I mean, in The Craft, when people use magic for their own gains, other people fucking DIE. I was definitely entertained, but a lot of it was due to me saying, “What? How? What?” loudly at the screen. I can see how this has gained a cult following in much the same way that other oddball 80s fare like Better Off Dead or Girls Just Wanna Have Fun did. Watch it once, then watch it again while you get drunk with your friends (in a post-Covid world, obviously) and you’ll probably have a pretty great time. 

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

[schiavonaintherye]

Melody (S.W.A.L.K) 1971 Livewatch

I have seen this movie. but not the whole thing (i got interupped the first time i watched it)... so here goes! 

movie load please

20 seconds of logos???

guitar song™

this movie is so nostalgic for no reason

Mark Lester and Jack Wild: did you mean, Oliver Twist and The Artful Dodger?

and tracy hyde shes here too

i love this movie sm wtf

can these credits end????

ok yes they can

70s film marching band scene

ornshaw drinking whiskey before band bc why not

danny is bby

mY mOtHeR dId It SiR

dannys mum is so annoying wtf

i really love tom ornshaw

run bitch run

The BB™

SET FIRE TO THE NEWSPAPER???

look at his lil face ❤

MELODY MY DAUGHTER

a gowdfish please

aww look at her 

“ive done all those things i wanna try something new” LIKE DRAWING TIDDIES? DANIEL

“ah a boy gave it to me at school” was it ornshaw, i bet it was ornshaw

BITCH YOU RIPPED DANNYS TITS DRAWING

melody girl you cant play that fucking recorder

this film has great cinematography wtf

Melody Perkins Deserves The World !!

the gang go to school

Ornshaw Gets Bullied

“the jewish boys may now leave for private study” what about the jewish girls?? there’s clearly girls in the class?? why do they have to listen to the bible

ornshaw’s porn bible

DOES ANYBODY KNOW WHO JESUS WAS???

dont smoke at school kids

okay so shes peggy, why is she credited as maureen. who the fuck is maureen

hear me out, muriel is a lesbian. noone kisses for over five minutes unless youre proper horny and this bitch is like thirteen. she also says “i dont know, i never used to kiss boys”, because SHE DOESNT. shes lying because she doesnt kiss boys. shes closeted and thats whys she says she does. also, she got angry at peggy for saying she fancied a boy.

W I C

“saucy turtles make terrible bathmats, charley” okay okay jeez

ornshaws accent is everything

The Gang sneaking through the fence what will they do

uh oh danny

AWH YOURE BARMY

thats def gonna explode later

ornshaw gets kicked off the bus

but now hes on it

ornshaw and danny have such a wholesome friendship too bad melody ruins it oh wait

you’ve heared of ornshaw gets kicked off the bus now get ready for... ornshaw gets kicked out of the strip club!

you cant get a taxi!!! watch me hoe

where did ornshaw get the chewing gum from wtf

“shes always talking about people like you...” OH OKAY DANNYS MUM IS CLASSIST

“he could do with a heart attack!” WOAH OKAY

time skip to school

oh no danny’s seen melody

“we have three admirers of the dance!” ah shit

ah so maureen is the girl in green

why is ornshaw just standing there

FREE YOURSELVES

the girl gang is hilarious i love them

Muriel Kisses A Tombstone

uh oh dannys been found out

“HES A COWARD CMON”

ornshaw just yeeted his cat

i hate dannys mother sm

assembly time, an iconic part of british comprehensive school, since covid, i cant say i miss it

danny and melody !!

DANNY PLAYS CELLO THIS IS IMPORTANT INFO

melody and her friend are there because plot

melody sweetie baby i love you but you cant play the recorder

THEYRE PLAYING IN HARMONY DKDJSKDJSJKK 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

this is cute as fuck

melody is babey

oh explosives time??

i just dubbed these kids ornshaw and the pyrotechnics crew and it fits

dannys parents are annoying

i quite literally hate them

DANNY SPILT HIS COKE ITS SUCH A SIN

“neviw”

melody girl are you okay

melody are you lying about getting raped

oh time skip to school

we’ve hardly seen ornshaws home life so when will we properly meet him??

god i fucking love ornshaw its mad

oh this is an iconic scene if there ever was one

“go on tom dance with her” oh the ONE TIME ornshaw is called by his first name

youre mad !!

“girls are a load of snotty nose little so and sos” ornshaw aro king

is ornshaw.. scared of women

whatddya mean i dont dance very well!?

is it bad i lowkey crackship peggy and ornshaw now

YOU DANCE STUPID!

no one:

ornshaw: kicks peggy in the shin because he cant dance

“you big fat fool” yikes

danny u ok

ALL ORNSHAW AND HIS MATES DO IS CREATE EXPLOSIVES DJDKJSKt

oh it worked for once

i feel so fucking sorry for melody wtf

bb 🥺

im at the bit where melody is crying while putting on her mothers makeup 

SWEETIE ITS OKAY 

OH TIME SKIP TO SPORTS DAY! 

this film is so fast were already an hour in!

ornshaw giving actually solid life advice?? are you sure this is the same movie

“you youre gonna be bloody useless!”

i literally love ornshaw so much 

FUCK DANNYS MUM

GO ON DANNY 

YES MY BOY

time skip to school 3982903843290

wtf is a young latin scholars book

lahtimah

not ass latimer, arse

i hate the latin teacher

ornshaw every second: right uh erm um uh so yes sir oh uh mhm

*ornshaw and danny shoving pillows up their underwear*

“dont worry about it!!” dude hes getting spanked by the latin teacher ofc hes gonna worry about it

ornshaw and latimah

“vacate your mouth”

“because its a silly out of date language sir!!!” hes not wrong

uh oh 

what will slapping ornshaw’s ass with a dap even gonna do???

oh hi melody forgot about you

AWH DANNY SWEETHEART

“cmon danny dont let her see you cry!” i want a friend like ornshaw man

melody is just STANDING THERE LIKE GIRL LEAVE

“you can buzz off now love, tara, tooduhloo” have i said i love ornshaw? because i love ornshaw

danny dont abandon ornshaw !!

oh this is sad

danny? danny?? danny!!!??? DANNY!!?? 🥺🥺🥺

ORNSHAW RIGHTS MAN

ive felt sorry for literally all three of these kids now

ah fuck now ornshaws having a mental breakdown in the school halls

danny and melody’s relationship is so innocent and wholesome 

this is literally so bittersweet, like we’re seeing danny and melody being all cute and happy but we know that back in school ornshaw is literally having a breakdown over them

im tearing up over a movie about schoolchildren in puppy love

“will you love me that long?” “of course! ive loved you a whole week already!”

“hes come to tea! his name is daniel!” melody hes not your pet

melodys dad seems so cool why was he arrested

donald????

i genuinely love melody’s dad 

melody dramatically eats toast

time skip to school AGAIN

OH GOD I’M ACTUALLY CRYING

melody and danny are out on a date having fun and its the same song playing as the scene earlier on when danny and ornshaw went off somewhere at the start of the movie, melody has quite literally replaced ornshaw

i have real tears rn 

they skipped school to go to weymouth

danny and melody are literally adorable man

“shall we get married?” arent yall like 12????

oh back to school they got in trouble for skipping

apparently the poor cast got spanked for real and like yikes

we want to get married :D

ITS NOT MENT TO BE FUNNY!!

leave danny alone!

leave melody alone!

ornshaw please stop

ornshaw stop taunting him this is gonna end shittily

OH SHIT 

THEYRE STRAIGHT UP FIGHTING 

ORNSHAW AND DANNY ARE MF WRESTLING EACHOTHER TO THE GROUND

okay now ornshaw is literally beating him up okay

danny this is your fault for ditching him for melody sorry

top ten best anime fight scenes

latin man is back because plot

DID ORNSHAW GIVE HIM A BLOODY NOSE

i’m sorry danny 😭😭

ORNSHAW. DESERVES. THE. FUCKING. WORLD. AND. MORE.

let melody and danny get married!

wait so if 20 is twice as old as her then shes.. ten?? i think

melody ily

“all i want to do is be happy” BABY

OH FUCK YOU MRS LATIMER

oooh

THEYRE GOING TO GET MARRIED BY THE RAILWAY 

ornshaws unnamed friend is the true hero of this movie

is this the movie climax???

run! ornshaws unnamed friend! run!

IM SORRY THE’RE LITERALLLY GETTING MARRIED I’M 😭

“we are gathered here today to join this man and woman in holy matrimony.. shaddup”

ITS NOT FUNNY ITS SERIOUS

IS ORNSHAW STRAIGHT UP MARRYING THESE TWO IS HE THEIR VICAR

HE IS AS WELL

“DICKS IS COMING!!!” as soon as they were getting the rings

RUN !!!!

ornshaw just threw the bible at his re teacher from the re scene at the start i love him

DANNYS MUM HAD IT COMING

name a more iconic trio than melody perkins, danny latimer, and tom ornshaw, i’ll wait

GO PEGGY!

ORNSHAWS UNNAMED FRIEND IS GONNA FINALLY GET HIS BOMB WORKING!

YES

GO ORNSHAWS UNNAMED FRIEND

“i’ll get you ornshaw!” dude how is this his fault its yours for unterupting the wedding latin man

again ouf is the true movie hero

wait latin man is dicks??? whos wannabe remus lupin then????

this just in: ouf is actually named stacey

oh god thats actually such a bittersweet ending

melody and danny trolleying off into the sunset

im actually crying like a baby rn

god that was such a good movie

[theshitthatidoishere]

Ask time !!

Fave NejiTen moment?

NejiTen has canon moments? Xd

It was a meme lol...

I’m sorry......

HHHSHHHHHH HIZASHI GUN IS THE FUNNIEST FUCKING PICTURE ON THIS HELLSITE HSHSHHSHSH

wait. what about pirate Tenten. but with a GUN

@meloodles I’m summoning you

Lee gives all of Team Guy friendship bracelets . Also imagine NejiTen roller skate date I can’t 😭

1. Omg yes lee’s the cutest person alive

2. I just imagine 1010 being a pro while neji is practically dying lmao

the end of the world by billie eilish.

Yesssss, i love billies sm, i even have tickets for her concert here in chile but covid ruined it 😔👊👊

Seen Jurassic park? Imagine that T. rex eating Hiashi.

Shit-sama! You're super cool and my favorite blog! I'm on my laptop so I can't send you hearts but just know that once I get on mobile, imma be sending you an ask that's just entirely blue hearts so watch out.

Yes please 🥺💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙 thank u sm

Tenten says self care is important!

It’s a me mario

Are you chicken-phobia?

Nup

Do you keep track of your followers?

Yes i do! I did request for the 400 followers and i wanted to do something for the 1000....and now we are +1600.......

OMG LEES HEADBAND SAYS GAARA IM SCREAMING

I think it would be a cute detail ☺️☺️

@yahboobeh said : Ah! Glad to see the art flowing again! 💜

And I’m glad too!! Just want the classes to end so i can continue 389 and more unfinished projects, i’ll try to do my best 💙💙

Neji but he’s 1.85 cm I’m screaming

Baby hinata appreciation

She’s so tiny i can’t 😭😭

The “fuuuuuck” in the middle is relatable af... I’m working on something of my own and I am suffering

Oooh good luck with it 💙💙

I’m going to teach you something... get ready

I’m scared now ngl

Minato is highkey insane

I love him but putting a giant demonic fox in your newborn kid is just..... Hiruzen was there why you didn’t sealed the kyuubi in him

Hello hHi Bye

Nani??

Today is poopkashi’s birthday

This is so late bit happy bd kkshi 💙

I am going to. Put little leafs in your food for added flavour.

🌱🌱🌱

Eeeeee calcetin con rombosman!!!!!!!

TANANANANA!

Have a 🧶

Ty 🧶🧶🧶🧶

Genin nejiten is best nejiten

I prefer shippuden NT but all NT is good

Ok but... Neji nb, hinata trans mtf

YES! All trans hcs are welcome here!

I thought haha cool until I realized how short 1min and 10 sec are and. 😳👌🏾

I tortured myself during several years 👌👌👌👌

Oh btw u didn’t put 389 11 in the index ❤️

Oooh ty! I’ll put it now

Are you still in a pandemic?

Yes bc chile sucks

How many siblings do you have ?

2 and i’m the middle one

Me scrolling through every possible varian of the neji hyuga tag

That’s the biggest mood jahsjajsjjaj, i do the same

@lizzyfb : are you ever going to continue the pirate AU? I love it

I don’t think that I’m going to do a comic abt the pirate AU but definitely i’ll do randomly drawing or strips ☺️☺️ (also thank you sm 💙💙💙)

[tfw-no-tennis]

mtmte liveblog issue 22

oooh man, its time to feel some EMOTIONS!

I'm BACK after a hiatus, which was due in part to me getting my 1st dose of the covid vaccine! woohoo!

anyways, starting here w/issue 22....we have a great cover w/thunderclash, the legend himself

oof. the covers made me forget how much I don't like the art this issue...I hate to be mean to the artists but this art style just isn't doin it for me chief

god I love this issue though. the framing device of rewind’s movie is so so fantastic

tailgate listing off all his fake awards/accomplishments....ily 

rodimus my boy, you're a prime in my heart

the ‘not a decepticon’ label for cyclonus is so much hvbhkjfbskjf

I literally wanna comment on every single panel bc I love all the characters so much but then id be here forever...that being said whirl ily sm 

hvbjdfbhsfjhdfshja BRAINSTORM ‘according to perceptor - ships genius’ hvhdkjhbfhjs ily dumb gay idiot

and then the cut to perceptor after brainstorm like, blew up his lab vjbkdsfnbksjf dude

GODDDDDD drift ‘your name...defines you. it’s your soul expressed in syllables. hm? oh, yes, sorry. it’s drift.’ GOD he’s so fucking funny. I love early story hippy drift

god I cant stop thinking about how good this whole issue would be as an animated show...like, specifically rewinds film, it would be SO FUCKING GOOOOOOD mtmte show WHEN

rewiiiiind ;_; I fuckgin love rewind god. fellow video editing enthusiast....

ohhhh rodimus being embarrassed about his big speech at the beginning of mtmte....my boy I love u so much

gjhnbgehjsrkfbjksf magnus being suspicious of rewind oh my god. magnus ily but please, look at the lil guy, he’s a good boy, most of the time

the fuckgin footage that magnus removed hbvhakjbfhskf god. wasn't that intended to be footage of magnus dancing? I love him

minibot squad.....

and here it begins, the mystery stick rung question...

poor rung oh my god he’s just trying to polish his lil spaceship and people r throwing shit at him. taking Ls as per usual it seems

hand grenade tag hvbfjksdnfbkjdf love that callback

noooo rungs ship :( 

magnus’s censorship vhbhadkjfhdbhjsakjhfn

oh man I forgot about how they met that race of Transformers But More 

the one-upsmanship hbvkajsbehfjks

whirrrrrl lmao I love whirl sm

goddddd whirl just killing that other alien and ending the 16 million yr long civil war bvkjsdbfhjjkafs so fucking much

oh god oh god the ‘are you happy’ page, I'm not emotionally equipped to handle this like, ever

but I will say I feel like it would be EVEN MORE oof if it were milne or someone drawing it bc I feel like this art style takes away from some of the impact bc the expressions aren't really that...expressive? idk how to put it

anyways. every single answer destroys me!!! like even the happy ones, like chromedome and rewind and tailgate - well, in present time, none of those three are doing so hot, so that makes this just hurt 

and rung....that is so fucking depressing. jesus. this guy is so fuckng sad, somebody get him a friend stat

and swerve...ouch. this readthru I've really noticed how much early-mtmte swerve is not-so-subtly like, crying out for help bc he’s so alone and shit. jesus 

also brainstorms response is just plain ole sad w/context, but at this point in the story without context, it just seems very foreboding lmao. I'm realizing this readthru that brainstorm is very sketchy and ominous in a particular ‘is he evil?’ mad scientist sorta way in early mtmte

and then everyone else is also just so OOF in their own unique sad ways, but I think the worst out of everyone is drift....GODDDDDD. especially considering that at this point in the story, drift is this kinda goofy hippy guy, so seeing him just sit there with his face in his hand, not even answering the question...AND knowing that shortly after this he’ll end up banished...IT FUCKING HURTS M8!

meanwhile, the more upbeat ‘quest to see rungs alt mode’ continues...with an ‘alt mode party’ vhbadkjsdfnabskjf it looks so silly with a bunch of cars just sitting around a table lmao

I cant even tell who everyone is bc they so rarely turn into cars n shit lmaoooooo 

rodimus with the bucket on his head hbvhakjbfskjf I CANT

everyone’s reactions to thunderclash...i fucking love it

the fact that TAILGATE doesn't hate him, even though we’ve seen that tailgate tends to dislike people who are universally liked/who have achieved a lot of impressive things

rodimus you petty thot vbdkjbfdjhsakjdf ily

RODIMUS IS SO FUNNYYYYYY ‘I'm not making all these sacrifices and leading these guys into battle and being inspirational - I'm not doing that because it makes me look good’ RODIMUS VBHSKJDFNBKSJF

thunderclash talking about magnus’s article on typefaces....hdbksjfsdbkjgfb bro

AND THEN MAGNUS HUGS HIM....HGBSKJFDSHFKD I CANT

POOR DRIFT bvhajkdfbhjkjsfd rodimus saying he ‘rehabilitated him’ oh my god

the whole spectralism thing...im sorry I cant get over how funny all this is vbakdjfbksjf thunderclash rlly b out here charming rodimus’s entire crew

and then ratchet comes in, calling tc ‘thunders,’ and tc immediately notices ratchets new hands (somehow) hvbkjfhbskjf truly amazing

it cracks me up that rodimus is all 😒😒 at thunderclash, even though as we come to find out, tc really IS That Perfect, and him complimenting rodimus isn't sarcasm at all lmao

AND THEYRE LOOKING FOR THE KNIGHTS OF CYBERTRON TOO HVSDHFJBSHKHDFJS OF COURSE

the vis vitalis being a life support machine spaceship is a really cool concept tho

‘rescuing some orphans from an exploding sun’ I fucking cant

evil guy: [holds a gun to thunderclash’s head] 

rodimus: :D finally something doesn't go his way!

he’s so petty I’m..........dkdjhfdabhduifadijgl

and its the aliens from earlier! oooh

GODDD I forgot that swerve used rung in mystery stick mode to SCHWACK the guy

rung casually dropping the fact that the functionists like, experimented on him...there's a lot of implications there, and that'll certainly be explored more later...

the fact that his ID card says ‘rong’ hvbhjakhdsbfakhsjfn 

oughufadkfujbsfk the circle of light throwing wrenches n shit at skids...guys cmon vbhsdjkfnslfd

the circle of light is like ‘wtf you all have trauma and a bunch of weird unhealthy coping mechanisms this is wack byeeeee’ lmao

skids calling the lost light his home is rlly sweet tho

cant believe the religious space hippy cult is being so rude about a film made by a guy who died like a week ago. unreal 

cd finally figured out how to make the pffft sound, good for him

AUGHHHHH the fact that rewind used ‘little victories’ as the title of the film and that's something that chromedome said in the video ;_; I'm fucking inconsolable 

rodimus, despite his obvious posturing for the camera during the whole issue, comes off as surprisingly genuine when he says that he hasn't thought about his own future much, but wants the crew to have a happy ending....im gonna cry

‘who knows what's around the corner?’ tailgate, PLEASE don't say that, oh my god, 

OUGHHHH GROUP SHOT 

OHHH mannnnNNNNN i love this issue SO MUCH. what a good fun emotional rollercoaster wrap-up to mtmte s1. god. 

like, this issue has it all - humor, drama, crippling sadness, intrigue, worldbuilding...it’s so excellent 

and getting to see rewind again hurts so bad but also I love him

ok quick mtmte s1 retrospective...god s1 is so fucking good. I'm gonna have to read more to say which chunk of mtmte I liked best but s1 is so fucking excellent that it might be my favorite. though its hard to pick bc there's so much good stuff later on too...whatever, the point is s1 is so so good

the plotlines and characters are fucking stellar. like I cant even believe how well Everything works, its very impressive. I cant really think of anything major that made me go ‘yeah could've done without that plotline/character’

I love how dedicated jro is to connecting everything. I've mentioned it before but basically every single moment in the series has payoff - what you initially think is just a funny moment, or a fluffy character establishment bit, ends up ALSO being an important plot point later, in some way

an example would be here w/rung and his alt mode - it just seems like a fun little B-plot for this issue, and seems to pretty neatly conclude with the reveal that rung was eventually classified as an ‘ornament’ (lmao)...but we later on get to see a lot more about this, both here and in the functionist universe 

and like, stuff like tailgate’s autobot lessons w/magnus - at first that can be seen as purely character establishment stuff, showing that magnus is a strict rule-lover and tg is a loveable try-hard good boy - but that becomes plot relevant in remain in light, with tailgate saving the day due to his knowledge of the autobot code (and its also character relevant, with magnus’s arc in remain in light). 

and I know this is like. a normal regular thing in writing, but I'm just very impressed about how cleanly jro pulls it off, and how many things he’s juggling at once, especially in early mtmte - it’s very ambitious!

and we gotta remember, this is a comic book. I've read a lot of comic books, and the quality is all over the place. a lot of writers bite off more than they can chew, and the story ends up kinda scattered as a result. 

another thing I see a lot in franchise writing like this is a lack of strong early character establishing due to the author assuming the readers are at least somewhat familiar with the characters already - which can be totally fair depending on where it is in the continuity, but other times it can come off as lazy

in mtmte, the cast is extremely well fleshed out, and not only that, the cast itself is unique in that there are a lot of relative unknowns (franchise-wise) - which I think was an absolutely brilliant move, because then jro was able to essentially create The Definitive Version of these characters - characters like swerve, brainstorm, chromedome, rewind, tailgate...mtmte is their baseline characterization, because they haven't really appeared in much else

this also allows for deviation from the franchise norms - again, a comic book classic is good writing being stifled by a need to stick to a certain status quo regard the characters, the world, the powers, relationships, etc

(I've mostly read DC comics, and some marvel, so I'm thinking superheroes w/all these comic comparisons)

so mtmte had a good recipe for genuine creativity in that the characters were relative unknowns, the plot was basically ‘space road trip,’ the status quo of ‘autobot vs decepticon war’ had been demolished throughout the entire franchise...so jro was able to take all that and run, and it turned out so fantastic

and luckily it isn't over yet! so many comics suffer from premature cancellation...and sadly mtmte/ll isn't exempt from this, as we’ll see later, but I've seen some awful ones, where comics are forced to wrap up in like 2 issues while in the middle of an arc. yikes. 

but another comic staple...one of my least favorite things about comics books in general...something that was basically responsible for driving me away from comics after reading a bunch...the dreaded crossover event

yep, even mtmte isn't immune to this unfortunate plague on the comic industry. crossover events are the absolute worst, and I'm saying this as somebody who adores crossovers (in concept more than execution usually). they SHOULD be my favorite, but unfortunately they p much always completely suck

they're essentially a ploy to get you to read the other ongoing titles, but they usually only serve to bog down whatever story you're reading to the point where you don't even wanna read that one anymore, let alone read all the other ongoings. at least, that’s been my experience 

it doesn't help that reading orders tend to be hard to find/keep track of, and that you need to go read the other series to know what's going on. I just hate it, like, I came here to read THIS series, I don't want a bunch of other series showing up too - even if I was reading two series, I wouldn't want them crossed over, because they're separate stories! augh!

I'm totally losing my focus here but my point is...crossover events suck, and mtmte unfortunately is involved in one. I have not read dark cybertron, and I'm not about to. I've heard nothing but bad things so I have no desire to inflict that upon myself 

soooo ill be reading through the tfwiki articles for those issues to give myself a better understanding of what went on - which is more than I've ever done in the past - and maybe ill even make a single post summarizing my thoughts on what I read in the wiki, lmao

but yea ill be skipping to the mtmte s2 stuff next 

phew ok I'm super tired, my vision keeps blurring out and stuff lmao. its time for bed, I probably have more thoughts but ill save them for later. for now...peace out!

[brokenheartsandtwistedminds757]

Please watch this if anyone crushed your dreams or never believed in you, if you ever felt lost and still do... Lord please help me find my purpose my calling my dreams , if you don't even know who you are bc you lost yourself or sense of self to someone or to an external source and in silence you can't sit with the your own self bc you are not connected with yourself within and so confused as to do next... I am ADHD . I was on second in about to skip it to distract myself with something else and for some reason I watched and laughed and I've been in a rut in writing and being in touch with my own soul with the inner child I suppressed and was repressed bc I was the black sheep, the misunderstood, the outcast, I too have a love for Albert Einstein, I too have a learning disability and recently lost my voice to domestic violence for 15 yrs and I made someone my everything and now left with nothing, and I see why I needed to broken hearted by a twisted mind bc now I free to explore and discover what my potential can be, and no wonder i was delusional bc I am truth seeker and I felt always uncomfortable, anxious and it's bc I was not allowed to be or able to express myself the authentic person I am.

" I used to wait for the newspaper, to wait for my dad to finish and so I can then cut out the funny comics like Garfield the cat and I used to laugh and then I ventured in to drawing " I drew Garfield and was so proud of it and my father said " you need to practice more it it's that good "

Little did he know: today this day he has no clue how that one sentence, killed and ahattwred my drive and imagination to dream; I believe of what Steve Harvey Said. Education isn't everything even though society tells us so, but obviously with what's been happening in the present time, I am glad I'm that black sheep of the family bc now I have the opportunity to change my ancestry, and tell my daughter with true ethusiam that her artwork is amazing and I encourage her to color outside the lines even though as we color together as an adult: me drawing inside the lines and my 4 year old just scribbling all over th page with colors out of random and triggered my OCD & in that moment I almost did something to her by words is killing her will to learn and have fun by almost " correcting " her to " color inside the lines and use the accurate colors " smh. In that moment as I had a flashback and I never drew again and even if I did doodle I would never show it to anyone in fear of it not being accepted but again Im thankful For being misunderstood bc after watching this video and diving deep of soul searching; I realized too, I am not supposed to fit in, it's the rebels without a cause that change the world but are labeled and judged as we are standing in line waiting for or prescription meds by a phyaiciatrist who has seen you since 18 and yet being now (--) of age still doesn't know your name. Maybe I was crazy for doing the same things expecting different results by changing myself externally to be accepted by people who I cared for and didn't aswell, now I know why age of 9. I want to die ? Nothing is more miserable than holding in your ability to express urself in any format bc I was made to believe anything I did or said was silly or stupid. I didnt know my root of all the circumstances and consequences of those I am suffering and surviving at the same time that I AM WORTHY, if it was one thing to note : ( I was the sperm tadpole to make it in the egg first ?) ;) I know this is all over the place but I usually would select-all-copy+paste to my UNSENT/UNSEEN MESSAGES / Or ADHS : verbal vomit. But fuck it. It is what it is. HAVING SUCH A MIND FULLY purging of thoughts and ideas that were repressed aswell as the insecurity and self conscious Ness that led to disablitating social anxiety which I proud I can even admit that on a social media sites bc most of mine is of Albert Einstein image and everything set to private bc thinking I would be a burden to " friends" / family/ strangers....I want to be an advocate for ADHD AND hopefully change the damn abrievation to EFDD. Just remember , I'm aware I'm not always be on the same page as the rest. (Ha! Or even the same chapter as someone for my age "/ who makes these unofficial societal rules that is bullshit to its finest ) if you made to this point well you are ADHD yourself and can relate or something resonated with you to intrigue your interest, my phone is so hot I think it's about to explore or possibly crash with my luck, but I just want to say, think or don't think outside the box, color within or outside the lones, it really just doesn't matter after all we have to side of the brain the the left and the right? No more hiding or fear of decideding! JUST BE U, Or else once by THE TIME U figure out what you want or who you want to be IN life or what ur dreams are; You already be six feet under. So disregard into the COVID-19 But with all respect and rip to all and their loved ones but get off your phone & go climb a tree. We are th wild ones, the free spirits and the light workers or the world to help / heal other of humanity's wounds, let's all disagree to agree that even though I will most likely continue to be on my phone after I post, I'm just going to to say at least I can feel free to speak my truth and can care less if this makes sense or has many grammertical errors or no commas lol. When I press that blue post button just know I for once was able to exhale.....

[yeswritingsandwritings]

COVID Diaries; Pennies

It is March 2020 and I’ve channeled the spirit of Paul Revere. As Los Angeles erupts into rioting and mass fentanyl suicide, I dive headfirst into the cabin of the Mazda, and gun the packed ship upwards along the vacant I5 corridor. Every smouldering city under Gavin Newsom looks further gone than the last. The navigation takes me on some perverse fantasy detour thru post-apocalyptic San Francisco. It’s been a long time coming but now it’s solidified. The mayor and her delegates have chomped their cyanide pills and now the streets and bridges offer rotting cars beside silent, beautiful Victorian manors. Still in full color, the sky is blue and the sun is yellow, gleaming indifferently. I am nervous about San Franscisco County. The shelter in place order says no one shall be out on the street without proper reason. And, proper reason or not, I have a pharmacy of drugs in the trunk of my car. Will it be enough to wait out the pandemic in my mother’s house? Enough to keep me sane tucked in the basement of the compound on Cougar Mountain, Issaquah, Washington, for GodKnowsHowLong? My very own Bavarian Alps.

For years in LA I have lived for high speed and hard sex in a blackout frenzy which no young American could denigrate without looking like a nerd. In our culture of excess I sought the most insane, unexplored corridors. Chavionistic romps through the bitter forests of lust, contamination, too-young suicide, too-good blowjobs that leave explosions on this cast of characters flown from every corner of the globe, all with the same indelible fever. I come to now, in this chaotic month handed down by God, March 2020, and I’m withdrawing from all of it in the penthouse on the side of the mountain.

In this moment the fantasy is fading fast, like being jolted from a wet dream by a home invasion. For a lot of people the American dream was already a flickering ember in the distance, a relic of some stupid pilgrimgrage for egoic glory, a blind propaganda puzzle piece with no jigsaw to belong to. But I had formed my own relationship with the concept, and, until now, had believed wholeheartedly in the myth in America; or at least that myth’s capacity to spur significant action, which could abolish hunger and pain, mistreatment and misunderstanding, which could deliver us from evil and unto the kingdom of heaven.

I am not, to many of her 300 million pairs of eyes, a portrait of traditional American success. I am the starving artist archetype. I’ve lived in abandoned buildings and shot cocaine into my veins in the speeding bathroom of many an Amtrak carriage. These may be my most definitive traits, save for the music I somehow manage to draw out of all of this. Albums worth of potential answers to the impossible questions. Sometimes I think I’ve reached the peak, with the LSD and the naked festival girls. I am 26 years old and feel incompetent. I go to pay a traffic ticket or am electric bill and find myself paralyzed at the entrance to the website. In a moment of otherworldly strength I call the bank and my debit card has been cancelled. I stare at the parking ticket in my pod, which has been rented from a company called Up(Start), and is arranged in a row with twenty others. At least I’ve made it to Los Angeles.

Up(Start) is a strange place. I find most people don’t last very long in this community. They leave back to their hometowns or find apartments. The ones who stay haunt this place like ghosts, with no discernible goals and mysterious incomes. I’ve learned not to ask how these life-longers pay the rent. The answer is not translatable.

Willow is one of these life-longers. She always talks about moving out; sometimes to an apartment in LA, most recently about some nebulous palace in France. She says her grandmother died and left her everything. She shows me a suitcase full of watches and rings that still can’t fully convince me of her story. She drinks vodka when she wakes up and convinces me to fuck her when Jesse leaves us in his room alone.

Jesse found his way out to a beautiful house in Silver Lake. He had been at Up(Start) for a year before that. He is the nicest guy I know, offering the coat off his back for nothing but a swig of your vodka in return.

I left these characters behind, keeping a steady 65 on the interstate and stopping only to black out in a hotel room in Redding, CA. Summer, inspirational barista and blowjob queen, dared me to stop and see her in Portland, but my body was crawling from scabies from Lucy, (who was also in Portland and, I would later learn, infected with the virus) and I sped right through.

My younger brother Jon was at the house and had been awaiting my arrival. I instantly understood why. My mother had become a figurehead for the national panic, and shoulder-hugged me with her mask on. She is, as we speak, sterilizing the place.

I’ve gotten to spend a good amount of time with Jon, and am somewhat surprised to find that he faces the same existential torment as I do. This is not something we talk about, but I can feel it on him. He is super into Xanax, and orders pressed bars off the darknet. I share the drugs I’ve brought with him. Kratom, weed, and, —most enticing— Flubromazolam. I learn that he has been kicked out of UW on academic probation. I ask him about it in front of my mother and stepdad. With a casualness that shocks me he says he just didn’t care about any of his classes. But he’s got reaccepted to the school and he says he’s going to make it this time.

I show him how I order my drugs online. I show him the designer benzodiazepines on the clearnet, pennies per dose. We place an order for O-DSMT. It’s an insane solution to our problems, but I guarantee you it works.

I tell Jon about my life in LA with the stuff. Taking it and driving weed deliveries all day. I don’t tell him about the long nights with Lucy, telling her the love I feel from the opiate is sourced from her, then failing to get hard.

Jon, for his part, tells me about the peak of his Oxycontin habit, poppin 7 OC30’s a day with his buddies at Rolling Loud. I was just a few blocks away. I didn’t know he was in town.

We order the O-DSMT to his apartment in the U District, stopping to and snag it on our sole vacation to Dad’s for dinner. Two packages have been delivered. We have the save pavlov response. We carry the packages to his apartment on the top floor and split the bubble wrap with a butterfly knife. Out of a manilla envelope comes 100 green Xanax bars. From a bent UPS envelope comes a gram of O-DSMT and 250mg of 4-ACO-DMT, a bonus for me (Jon says he hates psychedelics).

We set to the scale and split the gram, dosing 50mg then and there to get through dinner. The next day he visits me in the basement, saying “Yo, this O-DSMT shit… it’s dope.”

I say “I’m with you.”

My days are spent deep in the dream flow, recording songs for a hopeful fourth album. The third one is still far from complete, but I can’t go back and meddle with those songs now. Wouldn’t dare touch their Los Angeles essence with the hand of the evergreen state. They will go to Rob and Twon and Andy as they are.

I’m back to guitars for the new album. Cardinal sin AC/DC type songs. I think it may be a double album, quarantine permitting. I want an exploratory, unstructured, throw paint at the wall and see what sticks, White album/Life of Pablo situation. I want solo piano pieces and Aphex Twin-esque 808 excursions. I want the label to release it on white vinyl with extensive liner notes. Indulgence. I want this album to be the one where I say “indulge me.”

If Rob is vehimently opposed to the idea I had the fantasy of making an easy album. Taking songs like Parade Owl, See You Tomorrow, Miss Can’t Sleep and putting out a whole album of them. Good rock music. Take a step back from the frontlines; the cutting edge. We’ll see what sticks to the wall after this quarantine is over.

Weeks drift by. There’s a trade route for all the beer that gets brought into the house. It goes from the garage fridge to the basement fridge to my eager hand, to my mouth, to my blood. Night by night the ritual recurs, til my mom takes out the downstairs trash and finds all the empties. She makes some subtle comment. I tell her to buy more White Claw.

Despite the drug flow my inspiration seems to be drying up. Rob took a listen to the twenty five songs I’d completed since arriving in Issaquah and said they sounded like Dogs. The old band. The old rock and roll band we’ve been trying to move away from. I was disappointed to hear him say it. I was disappointed he wasn’t excited about the songs. “Fuck it, should I scrap them all?” I asked myself. Then I started to look around the house and understand that if nothing came of these songs… I must be insane. I must be losing it. The stupid research chemical stimulants don’t help. I thought they would. Productivity and all… but I’m just jittery, texting strangers on Instagram for hours, all the while feeling like I should be doing something else. And the television is on in the background, and I told myself I was going to do so much to day. And I did it. And people on Instagram say “you seem busy.” They’ve always said I seem this and I seem that. I never agreed with any of it, but they probably know me better than I do. How could I see myself? I look for myself through a fog and it’s only a ripple of a shadow. A microcosm a million miles away through a hellscape with no up or down, no east or west. They say I’m social. They say I’m a socialite. Really I just get drunk and unleash all my nervous energy on the party or, nowadays, the Zoom meeting.

Today I drink Modello. Ma and Chuck went to the Seattle waterfront for a picnic or something. I didn’t get the details. But the sun should be going down now, and she’s texting me asking if I want to play a board game when they get back. I say yeah sure I do. My temper when I’m off these amphetamines analogues, though… I worry I’ll flip the Pictionary board. Slam dunk the wine glass onto the wood floor. Now the cliffhanger; will this Modello calm my nerves?

This morning I went with mom to buy plants for the garden. I thought we were going to get seeds but she wanted the already grown ones. She was ready to be angry. Nothing made her happy. We went to three different garden store. I think she got some tomatos. How the hell am I going to get out of this one? Feels like the walls are closing in. I feel like I’m in the freezer in the back of McDonalds. I feel so sad for her, but I also feel so sad for myself. I feel cut off. I feel short of breath. I feel terror. It is Friday, April 17, 2020. Dread, terror, paranoia… I’m sure it’s been felt a million times by a million people, but here’s my version of it. In this McMansion on the side of the mountain, feeling less like I have a mission than ever. Calling nobody. Freezing. Yeah I’m freezing.

My brother and I both have drugs to get through this crisis but I’m planning to get off them. I sold him half of my etizolam and half of another shipment of O-DSMT the other day. He wasn’t at all interested in the 2-FDCK, an analogue of the dissociative Ketamine. I am still not really sure what dissociatives do to consciousness. They can move you into states profound darkness. You feel like your life is a black and white film and it is raining outside. And it drips off the palm trees and you sit in traffic on the way back from the Boy’s and Girl’s Club, where the boys and girls wouldn’t listen, they’d just go off into their own worlds. I wonder how they’re all doing now, tucked into their parents houses in Calabasas.

Anyway, I said to Jon “I’m getting off the stuff.” And I intended to. This journal finds me at a crossroads between fantasy and reality. What is my life going to be for? Where do I cast this fishing pole? Well the pole’s been cast. It’s out there in the middle of the ocean. But at the same time it’s in my hand, in this very moment, and I can chose where to dip it. I’m not trying to catch a fish in this scenario, I just like the serenity of the bay.

The question on everyone’s mind is: “If not drugs, then what!?” That’s a great question and I’d be bullshitting if I said I could answer it. I don’t know what lies on the other side of this life. I want to find out. Do I truly? I have to truly. Love, sex, work, victory… I’ve seen all these things before. And I keep turning to these substances. They fill up my days and my hours and all the music is informed by them. They move my hands to play the guitar and my voice is scratchy when it comes out. I’ve formed an identity around these drugs to a certain extent. That idea of me has to die. It does. I’ll have to mourn it. I’ll have to mourn a lot. I guess I don’t know what to be afraid of. I know a lot of stuff is going to come up through this process. The drugs numb it all out. People say that but it’s really really true. Bad news doesn’t don’t hit you as hard. Most things don’t hit you at all. You’re in your world. You’re off in a cloud. You’re unaware of the world around you. You’re afraid to engage. Why?

It’s easier not to ask why. It’s easier to get the immediate relief of a squirt of etizolam tincture. Or a gross tossing of O-DSMT powder into your mouth and a quick washdown with water. In this way you don’t have to answer any questions. In this way nothing hits you. And guess what else? All your heroes did the same thing.

But a lot of them died doing it. And you don’t want to die. You really really don’t want to die. You want to live a long life, with kids and grandkids, and see what happens to America and what music turns into. You don’t want to die, but what do you have to live for? You know you can make things up. Everyone’s always making shit up. All of this is made up. The culture, the value of a dollar, the value of a Benz. We just decide on it. And that takes a lot. But you know what takes a lot less? Deciding how you want to react to each moment. This one and this one and this one. Do you know what I mean? They say a lot of stuff about the world. The world’s fucked. They say the world’s burning to the ground. They say we can’t leave our houses. They say America won’t be a super power by the end of all of this. But they’re making shit up. And I’m making shit up too. I’m whipping up like a chef. Throwing dishes out from the kitchen, but the dishes are words and actions and the kitchen is my mind. What kind of food am I throwing out? What kind of food am I serving the world? Let me serve love and hope. But for that to happen, let me cultivate it in myself first. Let me nurture it like a child. Let me see it sober. Let me take the steps in the right direction. It’s simple. It’s simpler than you think it is. What are you going to do right now, after reading this? Or while reading this? How are you going to face the world?

Jon told me he got into Xanax from the Famous Dex song “Japan.”

“Baby girl, what you doing, where your man? I just popped a xan, fifty thousand in Japan”

He told me his friends heard the song and picked up some Xanax because of it. They liked it and reached out to him “You’ve got to try this,” they said. My little brother, in the throes of this batshit demon force that will bury him. It might bury me too. The jury’s still out. Mom, just let me withdraw in peace. She brings down a space heater. I grow to love it. I lay down on the wood floor that the spiders sometimes dash across. The space heater comes close to burning me, but I’m ok. I stand up, dizzy from all I’ve done to try to combat the withdrawls. Way too much etizolam, way to much kratom, getting to the point of way too much weed and alcohol. But hopefully it’ll all be over soon, and I can call my friends in peace and not want to slam down the phone whenever there is the tiny threat of silence, or whenever I speak, or whenever they speak. I can’t any of it sober, that’s what I think. Life is hard sober; it’s a breeze when you’re floating thru it. A good dream. So why get sober? They say it’ll kill me. Well, I said that. In this very same paragraph. And maybe it will. But when you’re withdrawing like this… all you want is a moment of peace.

Oh God, at dinner tonight I started to go off about my own mental state to the family. I should have known it was a big mistaken, but on my way home from Doordashing a rainy Issaquah I stopped at QFC and got a bottle of True Eagle American Spirits, Kentucky manufactured vodka. And, helping myself to serving of kimchi,  I said to them “I think I’m losing it.” And the conversation spiraled until my mother asked me “Are you suicidal?” And “Are you struggling with drugs?” Jon, between us, must have felt betrayed, but I just wanted to feel understood. I feel Chuck does not want to understand. I understand what he’s sacrificed for the life he has, but what value does that life has to him? He has a tumor in his jawbone, and it’s eating away at him, and no one can do anything. And they can’t get out to the specialists on the East Coast, and they won’t do the invasive surgery. He’s too busy. I know, in some capacity, he understands. Because he blows these things off like they don’t matter at all, when anyday he could have a stroke like Grandma had, fall to the floor of the kitchen while dishing up his kimchi, or pulling a slice of pizza out of the carton. I feel the same way. I have no idea what’s going to happen, but I know that I am mentally unwell. And I avoid the questions about my drug use and about my suicidality. I miss girls, ma. I miss pussy and parties and not giving a fuck. The way I don’t give a fuck now is in these terrifying sound collages drafted on the latest of nights, in the deep dark depths of quaratine. What was I saying in the last one? Something about how I didn’t wanna kill the crabs on the beach on Whidbey Island as a kid. Holy shit I’m losing my mind. But it’s all fine, isn’t it? As long as the music comes out fine.

What could I possibly do to get healthy? I feel so far off the deep end. You have no idea; I feel like crying. My best friend, living with the girl I thought I could always go back to. We don’t talk. I mix these ketamine analogues in with that cheap cheap vodka (plus etizolam) and cry tears onto this plastic table. It’s pointless to keep up the tinder courtships. I feel like this will never end. And it started with such a bang. I was such a part of history. Now I’m a nobody; I’m a junkie, holding on by the thinnest thread. No energy to pray. I feel like Cobain, and I know so many people do… but I really do. I can only imagine. But I’m only listening to Mingus, Lana Del Rey and Radiohead (Kid A thru Hail to The Thief).

Should I throw weed in the mix? Lord knows I have enough of it. It’s my number one priority. I’ve made enough songs now that we could workshop what I’ve come up with years. What else is there to do? Mingus ripped the piano strings out of some pianist’s instrument in front of a live audience, then stormed off the stage. Where the fuck is that in my life? I’m in front of the computer, weeping because America has come to a close. You know they sent jazz to the Soviet Union as a WEAPON? A weapon of freedom and democracy and individualism. What the fuck happened? It all makes me want to cry. It’s all too much; this world. These people I’ve known and loved and lost. This music I’ve made that they promise me will be something, but I don’t know if I believe them. I don’t know if I want anything to do with this life. I can’t engage with my culture anymore… my history. I feel like I’m not a part of it. I feel so disconnected. Who’s rippin the strings out of MY piano? Or who’s piano am I ripping the strings out of? We’ve lost so much… I mean… I’ll do my best to work with what we still have, but we’ve been so fractured. It wouldn’t surprise me if this was the end. Of America. Of our culture. Of our music and our hustle and bustle and industry and lover’s lanes and rites of passage. I feel like I’m mourning it now. Mourning my culture. Maybe mourning the illusion that was sold to us. Believe me, I was first in line to buy. That’s why it destroys me so deeply to see it collapse.

I guess we’re all one people. I’m crying writing this. Weeping, weeping, weeping. Grieving. You know what grieving is. I remember what’s-her-name in the pool. We went to every hot tub, each a different temperature, in the Desert Hot Springs Resort. Then Lucy’s friend’s new boyfriend told us Bernie Sanders had stayed there when he had visited DHS. I laughed so hard. Lucy ordered me another drink. She didn’t mind the cost. She liked me to be on her level. And I didn’t mind. I was proud to sip. We went back to the hotel and did god knows what. Feels a million lifetimes away.

This was back when anything could happen. When America was a blank slate and no one could predict anything. When you could go outside and say “What the fuck is up?” and get in adventures. I mourn the loss of that. Maybe it’s all in my head. Maybe that’s still there. But I’ve emotionally severed my ties to it. And I wish I didn’t. Because I love it. I love it so much. It’s not a myth. I swear to god it’s not a myrh. It was a reality… until all this happened. You have no idea. I mean, if you’re reading this and weren’t around before. You have no idea. I mean… I don’t know what things are going to be like after this. But not the same. There’s no way they could be the same.

You know I hope I get this shit. I hope I contract COVID-19. Lay in this guest bedroom bed with the scabies I may or may not have gotten from Upstart Creative Living… and which wouldn’t die off. I hope I can’t breathe. I hope I’m immune. I want to walk the world. Maybe I should go out, get it, isolate, heal, be immune… if that’s even possible. At this point we don’t even know if immunity is a thing that happens with COVID. But even if I could walk the earth without fear of it… everyone else is cowering, and they pull away from, seeing I’m not wearing a mask or gloves, or even if I am… I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it would all end this way. I would have done so much more. Focused so much more on each kiss. Even every note. I did my best, I guess. It feels like it’s all coming to an end. It’s Thursday, April 23, but that doesn’t mean anything. You have to understand how little dates mean in this time. It’s like we’re living in one of those time capsules buried beneath the walkway at WWU. Stagnant… yeah we write songs and poems and do our work and keep the economy from faltering completely… but there’s a different angle to look at it all now. The world is over. I mean, aha, to use the words of Rem… “It’s the End of the World As We Know It.” Key words: “As we know it.” I had no idea this would happen in my lifetime… I couldn’t even conceive it. If you would have told me this would have happened six months ago I wouldn’t have believed it. America seemed so stable. And now it feels like it’s in shambles. It really did feel stable. You may think I’m insane for saying America in September, 2019 seemed stable… but shit, we were free. And we were headed where we were headed. This throws a wrench in all of this. And it could be the end. And I thought this was the greatest country on earth. Happiness is a buttery, try to catch it like every night.

I’ve been fascinated in American history since I could understand it. Most specifically, I’ve been fascinated about how history is still happening. The closer you get you the current day, the harder it is to get a straight story. FDR did what he did and we won. That’s fact. That’s cement. Nixon? Everyone agrees he was a crook. But what about Reagan? What about Bush Sr? What about Clinton? The closer you get to the modern day, the more difficult it becomes to discern what is real and what is fake.

[jobone123]

#report should of been replaced 1st drop off blood BUT BLACK NEEDED JASON SUNRISE SATELLITE it's not YACHT fault I was born#

Its given an army ANTISEEDANT mask ARE FEAR#

TO BUILD AN ARMY BLACK AGAINST 1 man brother SAT HATES SAT no respect

KNOWS GETTING HURT

No man was answer MOM HAD 3 BOYS LAMD N SNOW N YACHT 2 BOYS LAND N SNOW# DIED IN A VIOLENT CAR CRASH yacht put done mom n raised a family

EUTHANASIA holy WATER#

WHY DOESN'T THE GOLD ONE strip any more SLOWHANDS

You needed YACHT to invest NO MAN BS NO MAN BEFORE MY WIFE u got LIEfe fucked up FAKE POWERT

For gold to draw blood made me rank #1 RICHEST MAN

I'm killing 80% of u men women SELLING THE YACHT N FILLING THE POOL with dirt GROWING TOMATOES FOR RED#

Her car her APARTMENT her house ANY SUNRISE red lost a fight against ten ball men KILLERS WITHOUT GUNS OR BALLS she had no chance I BLAME BLACK FOR ALL 3 GIRLS DEATH any SUNRISE ex name goldson WHITESON ANY

Ever seen a cracker shit on a sidewalk ISLAND SAW YACHT DIARRHEA sat bae downtown N THEN A COFFEE HOT acid N THEN A DANISH N THEN A SODA I dont drink water WHOOPS

Colorado snow# PITTSBURGH pnc# again church fire covid BOSTON all snow said the same thing ABOUT DOWNTOWN island NO BALLS NO EYES she died SUFFEROCATING siren#

WHI KILLS THE PEDIFILE the SUFFEROCATING girls siren WHAT ELSE WOULD HE KNOW# DUH not a boy siren NO WAY any AIRPORT losers

For even Oregon snow# to nail YACHT E ERY 4 SNOW# SAID blacks are ACCIDENTS

I thought who can black YACHT JAYSON sue? God FISH water???? WTF

People THE WAY YOUR FAMILY SCREAMS IMA ENJOY been waiting 16 years to meet the men THAT DONT KNOW THETE FEMALE behavior lost satelite war# sore losers WHITEY YELLED we need our space HE YELLED then snow tried to kidnap me SHE DOESN'T HAVE A JOB vs SUCK MY PUSSY snow# couldn't see YACHT mask ITS THE DEAD BROWN PEDIFILE FAMILY

Bring your white snake snow# cant have black HOLYWATER# WILL 80% DEAD

Good thing plane jas a spect responsible FATHER U PEOPLE GOT TIME FUSED#

Time is power SUNRISE lost to laning voices Mic city dead PEDIFILE family 3'4 told 5'3 6 ORIGINAL

#report

I walk into a white church all black AND BLACK PAPER STRAWS holymilk not WATER#

U PEOPLE PICKED THE WRONG ARMY YACHT DIDN'T ASK TO BE BORN#

Y# Jason are they black WALLSTREET ANSWER# Ex goldson puta# SNOW# SAT WROTE OUTSIDE REPORT no witnesses to YACHT WATCH ME cracka lawsuit# IM CHANGING VOTES SIGNS from trump to Biden NOW 5'6

Dead puts family wants to build a PRISON family AROUND my DAUGHTER s n BLESSED OR GAVE me a socialism son# of FISH not toilet turd IDEAS SOLUTION S SQUID pro co YACHT N JOBLESS BAE made use# job# joke ATER I HAVE A PUSSY vs suck my clit

I WONE HANDED BOSTON it was ice#

THEY COULDN'T GET ME WET snow# SCIENCE sunlight radius

Faed PEDIFILE s I called it

I was bleeding because JEALOUSY downtown CENSORSHIP top of LAWSUIT I cant except bodies THROWN AT MY BLOG

U physically n SCIENCE couldn't MAKE YACHT SICKER

It's the ACCIDENT I hot the lottery 3 times SUPER MODEL jobs# pool BIKINIS was #1 reason MY TOWER HAS POOL car garage