#and reflecting on everything

[itspileofgoodthings]

End of last week I kept a teenage boy to help me with something after class as a pretext so that I could speak to him about his attitude, decided at the last minute to say nothing and just let him go with a “have a great weekend” and it’s so funny but I think he knew and sensed that lakskskskss

[a-a-lost-munchkin]

I Can’t Help But Wonder

Odysseus, who just violently and mercilessly murdered 108 or so men, who claims in the next song that he’s no longer a kind or gentle man, actively listens to Telemachus and kindly and gently responds to everything his son’s expressed.

Telemachus asks, “Am I like you? Am I strong like you? Will you embrace me? Will you love and accept me as yours?” He says, “I’ve felt so alone.”

And Odysseus claims him in a heartbeat, answering, “My son. My boy. My sweetest joy I’ve ever known. I embraced you twenty years ago. I’d do the impossible for you. I’d die for you.” He says, “Seeing the men here today, I can only wonder what you’ve been through for twenty years. My son, you’re already strong. You’re my own. You’re not alone. I’m home.”

And then they fucking embrace.

[vocabulary-altering-posts]

you really need to raise your standards for what's considered "a phrase" because if it only makes sense in the specific context of the post it was originally found in and it isn't repeatable in other situations, that's not a phrase that has entered the lexicon, that's just something someone said one time.

i started this thing last week i need all the posts i can handle

What doesn't alter your vocabulary may alter, or may have already altered, someone else's. This is not about adding to The General Lexicon - I have an entire tag for things that change this site as a whole, which has a higher bar; this is largely about novelty and humor. This is us curb-stomping whatever the fuck we want into the right form for our needs, whatever those needs may be, including altering aspects of the phrase to fit the necessary format or context. It's a linguistic shotgun.

its my fuckin blog bitch ill shit where i want

[yujateaandpi]

Dandadan sketch dump of the codependent duo ever. Quiet boy who loves yapping and loud girl who loves listening, my beloved.

idiots idiots

[soulmvtes]

sunday nights are for reflecting on your entire life and the fragile state of your present moment and what the future may look like

[mobius-m-mobius]

#there are two types of actors 😂💖

[inkskinned]

despite pages of poems and the entire book i wrote you - you only ever wrote me two songs. the first has the lyric coming up on 7.13, the date we first started really flirting. it's been three years from then, and my life has been utterly ruined. we haven't spoken in a month. i oscillate between being a wreck and being wildly, manically happy. i go long periods without thinking of you - and then i keep myself up, tortured by memories.

i think it's important to note we had been friends for years first. that i had learned to trust you, to think better of you. that you knew who i was - and you still fucking broke me. you knew all the ways i had worked to be okay with myself. all my independence, my hobbies. you could have left me alone, is the thing. you could have let me just keep fucking living.

i keep writing paragraphs on paragraphs about what you did, what you said - who you were. how it escalated so slowly. how i am still scared to admit the truth of things, fearing your response. you taught me that fear. it's only been a month, but still - already, how strange to think of who i was while i was with you. that was a husk-girl, cowering, servile. i can't believe let you in my fucking house.

three weeks before you discarded me; you took me ring shopping. you would tell me so many times i was the love of your life, someone that you "couldn't live without."

the last thing you sent me was that second song - a new one, finally. it's about how i'll never get what i want. about how miserable the idea of a life with me is.

my mother was furious. i had to call her - i was sobbing on the floor of my bathroom about it. She knows it kills me that i can't have kids, i said, breathless, silver and shaking with anguish, Why would she make a fucking song about how sad that is.

you know her, and you know how gentle and forgiving she is. how rare her anger is. her response was slow, deliberate. sweetheart, she said, she can write any song she wants. i know my girl. you are going to write a book instead.

i hiccupped a laugh, but she was still talking. she dropped her voice low, almost scraping through the phone and onto the floor with me. it was a strange tone, almost like feeling a storm coming when there's nowhere safe to be.

i want you to rip her apart, she said. do you think you can you do that for me?

[the---hermit]

"we who study humanities are lucky because to us nothing loses meaning, of course we won't be reading a book from the 1400s the same way they did back then, but with time it acquired more and more meanings and we can still find things to reflect on today"

and with this random reflection this professor won me over

[idontmindifuforgetme]

the devil’s whispers:

you can do it tomorrow (if you don’t do it now you’ll never do it ever)

you have a lot of time left (life is actually pretty short and we don’t have that much time)

you can skip this one little thing today (you are functioning solely due to the fact that you have a routine)

i must respond to this one thing that is bothering me immediately (you don’t have to do anything, it’s all in ur head)

I must check my phone (u don’t have to do anything, it’s all in ur head)

panicking is productive (panicking never makes a situation better, but in fact exacerbates it)

I must listen to music while doing the most minute task (u don’t have to do anything, it’s all in ur head. and I like music as much as the next person but moments of sheer silence are crucial)

I must befriend everyone (some people just don’t mesh together and that is ok)

I can skip working out for the day (working out does so much for ur physical AND mental health)

If misfortune happens to me it’s because I am uniquely unlucky (misfortune has nothing to do with preordained circumstances and everything to do with random odds)

If I am mistreated it’s because I am a horrible person and I deserve it (most times people are projecting their issues onto u and it has nothing to do with u)

if I make a mistake I am uniquely horrible (we are all human and we all make mistakes. the important thing is to hold ourselves accountable and learn from them)

I must have this one thing I really want now (u don’t have to do anything, it’s all in ur head. also whatever u want will still be here tomorrow so this sense of urgency is false)

I am uniquely hated/disliked/ostracized (most people are busy w their own lives and don’t have the time to be hating on u. and if they really are then their life is pretty empty and their opinion should not be held in high regard to begin with)

[yesandpeeps]

I think Amir deserves one good Swing on Johnny (aka I like seeing pretty men fight).

(+ upstairs bathroom boundaries under the cut)

[rika-mortis]

Headcanon: Deep down they both want to be their fairy godparent/godkid again after losing them, but don't believe they deserve each other and feel like they aren't worthy to be their companion anymore

They both need counseling and therapy as a whole package

[yourlittlettoy]

Something about.. how t-wording causes your body to betray you.

How no matter who you are (how dignified, tough, professional, serious, etc), getting t-worded will force you into a vulnerable and helpless state.

How embarrassing that is, to always have a weakness that makes you lose all of your dignity, reducing you to squirming and begging and makes you feel weak and out of control.

How much having this weakness you can’t get rid of means there’s always something that can be used against you, used to control you, used to humble you.

Just the inherent .. invasiveness of it all? The idea of having this weakness at all, that’s literally always gonna be so accessible to exploit if someone really wanted to. Being so afraid that someone might find out. How it always tears down every mental defence you’ve ever steeled within yourself and forces you to act in such an involuntary way which makes you burn hot with embarrassment?? How easy it is to control you with this.

Damn. I think that’s maybe a core reason this kink appeals to me 👀

[amazingdeadfish]

The Killing Kind Animatic

After three months, it is finally done! I hope you all enjoy the final product and, forgive me while I go into a mini hibernation because of burnout XDDD.

Screenshots I used as reference and/or traced

[formulaonedirection]

and when I hurt / hurtin' runs off my shoulder / how can I hurt when holding you 💕

[uwhe-arts]

. . . | uwhe-arts

[the-lazy-cat-bakes-souffles]

This season has been absolutely full of rabbits. Akilah cradling rabbits; rabbits surrounding a doomed Ben; rabbits slaughtered repeatedly onscreen. We know there’s a strong symbolic link between Jackie and rabbits in Yellowjackets, but an important distinction is that they don’t represent Jackie as a person (she didn’t even like rabbits!) so much as the idea of Jackie, something ascribed to her against her will: a warped, disingenuous version of her.

It also doesn’t escape my notice that in the very same episode that Kodiak shoots a rabbit through the heart with his crossbow he also shoots Melissa in the chest. Melissa, who Shauna uses to fill a Jackie-shaped hole inside her. Who is pinned down with a knife, hyperventilating like a cornered prey animal when she first gets with Shauna. Who approaches Shauna tentatively, timidly. Who lays flowers on Shauna’s son’s grave and gifts her a handmade sheath wrapped in bark and berries. Who is fearful yet exhilarated when encouraged to embrace her own darkness.

There’s a strange innocence to her interactions with Shauna, but it’s also the death of innocence; the relinquishment of innocence; innocence taken advantage of. When she’s struck with the arrow she cries out to Shauna, but Shauna is like a wolf hot on the hunt, and she can’t offer Melissa the unconditional love she craves and gives freely.

All of which makes me wonder: who is the rabbit?