basilecf-blog

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Fucking dipshit if you had something against the rp, then why were you still in it? Was it because of your larry ship? Guess so

i was playing a lisa teige fc

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anywho, feel free to follow me on @luois and/or add me on sk**pe (tfbgarbage) if you’re not transphoic and resistant to trans people telling you your actions are making them uncomfortable. also, don’t follow me or add me if you don’t see anything wrong with that! byeee

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unfollow, thanks! reasons below since it’ll probably be put as personal reasons on the main.

an admin who ships (or at least supports content from) a ship that’s compromised of a literal nazi and a person of color (who’s actress has publicly denounced it and highlighted that it’s bad)

+ the logic that it’s okay to ship problematic and abusive ships as long as they’re tagged (it’s not, coming from an abuse survivor, thanks!)

blatant transphobic comments about nb people

DELETING the ask that called them out on their mistakes and preferring basically u mssg privately and keep it under wraps i assume (idc if it gives a ”””bad rep””” own up to ur mistakes.)

insincere apologies and instead saying that they’re being “treated unfairly”

oh and i have screenshots if u’d like 2 act like u haven’t done any of this.

if anyone wants my skype/main blog lmk ! i’d be happy 2 talk more or keep in contact !! bye!!

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can you quit being rude af? if you don't like some of the things people do, take it with the admins otherwise it comes off rude and you're giving the rp a bad rep and I bet that's the last thing you want to do.

Lol this was the OG message that was sent to me this morning out of the blue for pointing out ableism on the dash. I’ll probably print it out and frame it.

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i don't think you ruined the rp. you voiced your concerns and i think that's perfectly fine because an rp is suppose to make everyone feel like family and stuff

Thank you!! Neither do I!! I’m glad someone else can see sense in this bc I honestly feel bad for everyone who is looking at this and thinking “oh, there was nothing wrong with the way the main was posting, everything was fine.” That kinda ignorance is simultaneously unacceptable and sad, especially after having it right in your face. Oh well! Like I said before, I have no problem with Brynn. Brynn is wonderful and an actual angel who was so understanding and graceful it’s hard to see her getting shit on for this in any form. I wish most of y’all the best anyway!

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You and the anons are a disgrace. Srsly the way you guys mistreat admins, you couldn't just leave the rp? Asshole

LMFAO it’s not mistreating the admins to ask one of them to not be transphobic. Which is all I did. I pointed out transphobic behaviours that were making me & others uncomfortable, asked them to change it, Brynn agreed, and it was done with. I have nothing to do with the anons. Have y’all ever seen me hesitate for even a second to say what I think? DFGSRDGD why would I send anons and expose myself at the same time? But yeah okay go off

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Thanks a lot for ruining the rp for us

I didn’t ruin the RP. Brynn and I had a lovely conversation about my issues and we settled it in the end and like it was all about people being aware and changing their behaviors to accommodate for the diversity they were asking for instead of making people uncomfortable. Not my fault there was transphobia and ableism and other issues that people were resistant to correcting. Also, I haven’t sent any anons. In case you haven’t noticed, I have no problem saying what I think publicly and y'all are welcome to do the same lmfao

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I dead ass have never been in an RP that has so many anons going around being reckless like what kind of nonsense??? 3 people I know of (including me) have gotten negative or rude or disrespectful anons today and I think a lot of y'all need to take a good long hard look at yourselves before you decide to say shit to people LMAo full offense

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bchatti.

“let me see!” she pulled over closer to their friend, peering over basil’s shoulder like she was peaking at test answers. “if you let me see yours, i’ll show you mine?” behati was forever grateful to have basil as a friend. when she packed her sketch book and pencils, behati knew that she could ask them to join her at anytime. art was her safe place. she could be anywhere and with anyone, but if she was drawing? she would be okay. 

Protectively, Basil covers up their paper, turning their head enough to vaguely side-eye in Behati’s direction. It’s definitely not the first time, but they may or may not be playing it up a bit now, pouting their bottom lip a bit. “It’s a secret.” They explain, though of course they don’t actually mind that much. Exhaustion is weighing on them from how they barely slept last night, but over-all today has been warm, bright, and nothing but good. Plus they’re laying out on their belly in the grass, drawing beside someone they happen to like, so they can’t really complain all that much at the end of the day. At least not right now. “Why’re you so nosey?”

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miitchie.

“i’d literally rather die than let another bug touch me.” this is the same girl who couldn’t keep from screaming when a bee landed on the lip of her cup. she’s a little dramatic, sure, but she just really fucking hates bugs.

“You’re in a national park. Outside. In nature.” Basil feels like pointing out these facts should probably make their intent obvious enough, but if she needs any more than that, they’d be happy to oblige. Surely most people here must’ve, in some manner, signed up for this, right? It’s for charity. “I have some insect repellent back at my tent, though. Can give you a quick misting and all that.” Misting is a much better word than spray. “At least you might have a better chance of retaining your will to live.” No one hundred percent guarantee, though. Insect repellent is certainly no miracle worker.

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rcsemvry.

         the other’s soft touch to her arm brings one of those dimpled smiles back to her face - head tilting slightly, hair still stuck to her shoulders from her jump off the rocks. ‘ you’re sweet, ’ rosie doesn’t quite accept nor reject the comment, just kinda dodges it in the way she’s grown ADEPT at over the year she’s been out of tiny bridgewater, alabama. she feels kinda bad, now, doesn’t mean to weigh them down ( no pun intended ) with negativity when they’re clearly in their happy place. ‘ …. - sorry. ’ she wont bring it up AGAIN, it was meant to be a lighthearted quip but basil has a way of seeing straight through that & picking up on the underlying INSECURITY. it never fails to throw rosie just slightly off her game. now, to be HONEST, pot isn’t a smell rosie’s super familiar with. it wasn’t that popular in her hometown ( seems like people either shot guns or shot up, really ), and contrary to what every D.A.R.E. representative told her when she was growing up, people don’t tend to just randomly offer drugs. two and two don’t really get put together in her head cause of this, but she’s not about to say no to a cookie. ‘ they’re really good, then ? ’ is what she gathers, reaching over to pluck one from the tupperware, soft hum of an apology escaping when droplets of water drop onto the other’s bare skin.

Basil can’t consider themself sweet for that. Just a human being looking at another human being and not finding every little reason to think poorly of them, is all. It doesn’t make them a saint. In short, they brush off the comment just like Rosie had brushed off their’s, letting it pass without anything to further it along. “No need to be.” It’s kind of a repetition of what they said before, but they don’t want to make her uncomfortable either. A hand moves to smooth the few water droplets off their own skin, and Basil shakes their head, realising they’re going to have to be more clear about what they mean if Rosie is going to understand. She’s so sweet -- precious, really, in a sense that’s completely endearing and not at all patronising. Basil is a virtual font of fondness at her at almost all times, but especially at times like these. “They’re not very good, actually. They’ll get you high, though? If that’s not your thing, I get it. Just thought I’d offer.” They lift their shoulders in a shrug, and it’s true; sadly edibles aren’t really all that tasty most of the time, but they can be a great deal less ostentatious than smoking itself, and Basil figures they’ve done quite enough of making a spectacle of themself in that regard today. “Is the water nice, by the way? I haven’t been in yet.”

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indvra.

‘ gladly. ’ what? it’s indira. you can’t expect her to hear the words ‘fuck me’ and not say something obscene in response. the bright light from their own flashlight makes her squint and step back to adjust - and then, in a moment of utter brilliance, she decides to fuck with basil. ‘ shit. - don’t look now, but there’s something on your shoulder - shit, hold still. ’ she pretends to move closer, grabbing basil’s flashlight and then pretending to startle back another few steps. ‘ FUCK. that’s a scorpion - dude, i’m sorry, i’m not equipped to handle that at all. ’

A scorpion! Basil’s mind yells at them, but they freeze completely, going stock-still and thinking about what the hell it is they’re supposed to do next. They know that there aren’t any species of scorpion in Texas that are known to be fatal, but it’s still giving them the creeps, and they take a deep breath before turning their head slowly to look at their shoulder, fearful about what they’ll see. As it turns out, though, there’s absolutely nothing there at all, and the tension releases from them, their gaze cutting back in Indira’s direction. Indira, who now has their flashlight. They squint at her, and then drop their bag to the ground and kneel down to start sifting through it. “Hilarious. I wish my reaction had more entertainment value for you.” They aren’t easily frightened by creepy crawlies. It’s just not the way they’ve ever been. What a shame. “Give me your torch so I can put new batteries in and I promise to make it funnier next time.”

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botners.

          dahlia watches them from where she stands. her feet are cold, fairly exposed to the chill of the night in her plastic slides, her thighs equally as cold. the blanket helps though, or at least, she thinks it does. she believes it does. her smile only falters slightly when she sees the blank expression on their face. she worries that she’s said something wrong for a second— that she’s crossed some sort of line she had forgotten or some unspoken rule. worried that the buzz of the hits she had taken had fogged her memory of something imporant. she’s relieved, rather when she’s them start to move towards her. she’s reassured then that if she did do anything, it’s at least not too bad. it soothes her own worry, a spark of anxiety that simmers. she lets out a soft breath into the night. her arms wrap happily around them, pulling them equally into the embrace. they’re warm, she thinks, giggling into the crook of their neck, muffled by their chestnut hair. her second thought was about how their hair smelled nice— and really, the rest of them did too.

          “ that’s okay— i get you, ” she starts, mustering the most sincere and honest voice she could manage. she was high, yes, but she was still serious about being there for basil. she would be the last one to turn away someone in need, especially some she valued so much. “ don’t be sorry ! i promise it’s okay, really. i don’t mind at all. if you didn’t text me, i was probably gonna end up watching like, i don’t know— conspiracy videos or something on youtube until i passed out. you’re much better company, ” she explains, “ i promise. again. ” she’s been told she has a tendency to talk too much when she’s high. maybe it’s true. she’s thought about it before, considered it as the substance fills her lungs. she’s eased again by the fact that she’s earnest, at the very less— even if she will tell you an unnecessary amount of information about some scientific concept (that she saw bill nye talk about) from time to time, between hits and smoke.

          she pulls away only slightly so she can better see their face. it’s dark outside, but with the help of the moon and the stars above, she make out their face fairly easily (they look nice, too). she still has to squint though. it’s okay. she relaxes, letting her forehead rest on their shoulder again comfortably. “ we don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. i understand that too. we can just stay like this. or lay down. or whatever— whatever you need, i’m here. i’ll even let you paint all over me if you want, ” she tells them, bordering on a mumble into the fabric of the hoodie they’re wearing.

Warm. That’s how Dahlia feels, even as cold as she may be right now, and Basil is like a neglected flower soaking in the sun for the first time in weeks. It’s a bit dramatic, they know, but no one ever told them they aren’t allowed to be a bit dramatic (well, not in so many words; Basil imagines they have to make that stipulation when they’ve been told they aren’t allowed to do so many things in their life), especially considering outwardly they’re the complete opposite. Right now, they’re resonating with that kinda deeply, and they’re trying to work out in their head what it is they’re meant to do next while it’s not weird yet to still be hugging her. Of course, she says that they can stay like this, but Basil figures it’ll get pretty awkward pretty fucking quickly past the ten minute mark. Best to sort their head out now and not wait ‘till later, right? They try not to let themself linger for too long on how nice it is, on the perfect fit of their height difference and the way Dahllia seems impossibly small even though they know that she isn’t. It’s not something new, which doesn’t make it any less of a marvel.

“I wanna get really fucking drunk. Black-out, pass-out drunk.” They admit after a few moments of silence, and it makes their stomach churn with nausea, like some sort of sick muscle-memory. It’s not as bad as when they smell certain alcohols, but it’s enough to jerk them out of that mindset pretty quickly. It’s not all that bad, anyway. Anxiety always makes things seem bigger and darker than they are, and their rational mind knows that as it grapples with their irrational one. They won’t be doing anything stupid -- at least involving liquor -- tonight. “But I won’t. How’s Ellie?” Basil wonders who she’s staying with. Surely Dahlia hadn’t brought her on the camping trip. It just wouldn’t make sense. It barely makes sense that Basil had brought their dog, and they remain uncertain as to whether or not they’re even allowed. Right now, Dot is sleeping on the ground beside where they’re stood, having not really stirred even when he no doubt heard Dahlia. He’s used to her by now. Before they no longer possess the willpower, Basil is forcing themself to let go of her, not really pulling away too much, but just not squeezing her so tight anymore. It feels a bit like a loss, but not too big of one.

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ariwinters.

Curls of smoke infiltrate his hyperfocus on the night sky but they aren’t an entirely unwelcome visual addition as they slowly evaporate up towards the stars. His head cants to one side, watching the wisps twirl and twist as though in some sort of dance. He feels Basil squish into his side, the weight of them solid and holding him back from floating away on the smoky tendrils. Ari’s hands move on autopilot, accepting the offered bowl to free up Basil’s hands. There’s a flicker of a smile passing his lips before he takes his hit, not because of the smoke entering his lungs but because of the tug of Basil’s fingers on the flannel draped on his body. They’re both more tactile when they’re high, a fact they easily learned the first time they’d smoked together. He draws his legs in so that their ankles can hook together and he tilts his head to rest on top of theirs as he exhales. Ari watches his own contribution to the night sky disintegrate into the distantly twinkling celestial bodies and he makes a small hum of a sound. “Think you’re gonna last four days?” he asks in a light tease as he passes the bowl off. There’s concerned laced into his tone and he knows Basil will read it correctly – he understands their stresses and anxieties. If he could help, he would.

Basil has smoked more today than they have in a long time. It’s a little ridiculous, actually, just how much they’ve smoked, and thinking back on it, borderline comical. They haven’t been finding a lot of things humorous, what with the impending doom of the night fast approaching, but that isn’t to say that it’s all been totally awful. Right now, for instance -- well, this is pretty okay. They inhale, the scent of their own clothing mixing with the underlying Ari that seems to be slowly permeating everything around them, and then they’re turning their head so it’s their cheek pressed against his shoulder rather than their entire face. Probably easier to talk that way, if talking can be considering easy under any circumstances. “Nah, I’ll probably just die.” They deadpan, the sarcasm obvious in its absence; it isn’t as if he’s going to have trouble finding it. “Or get thrown in the clink when they discover the dispensary I’m running out of my bag. Whichever.” They lift their shoulders in a shrug, glad for the fact their expression is masked by their position, and for the pressure of their friend’s head resting against their own. It’s nice, and it’s calming, and they’re relaxing more and more by the second. They’d probably make it in prison, is the thing. They lived a lot longer with far more rules.