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Why artists and writers reblog their work multiple times:
They posted it late at night and want people to see it in the daytime
They want others to reblog it
They want more attention for it
THEY WANT OTHERS TO REBLOG IT
They have followers in different timezones and want everyone to get a chance to see it
THEY WANT OTHERS TO REBLOG IT
IF THEY REBLOG IT MULTIPLE TIMES, THEY’RE DOING IT BECAUSE THEY WANT ATTENTION FOR IT AND THEY’RE LIKELY NOT GETTING ENOUGH, SO THEY KEEP REBLOGGING IT IN THE HOPES THEY’LL GET SOME
BE A COOL BRO AND REBLOG
THEY’LL LOVE YOU FOREVER
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Why artists and writers reblog their work multiple times:
They posted it late at night and want people to see it in the daytime
They want others to reblog it
They want more attention for it
THEY WANT OTHERS TO REBLOG IT
They have followers in different timezones and want everyone to get a chance to see it
THEY WANT OTHERS TO REBLOG IT
IF THEY REBLOG IT MULTIPLE TIMES, THEY’RE DOING IT BECAUSE THEY WANT ATTENTION FOR IT AND THEY’RE LIKELY NOT GETTING ENOUGH, SO THEY KEEP REBLOGGING IT IN THE HOPES THEY’LL GET SOME
BE A COOL BRO AND REBLOG
THEY’LL LOVE YOU FOREVER
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Stuff kids on tumblr better relearn
1. You are responsible for your own media experience.
2. There is such a thing as a healthy level of avoidance towards topics that make you feel unwell or even (in a real-life clinical definition of the term) trigger you - but you are the one to actively take care of what you view.
3. Avoiding does not mean policing others.
4. You have no right to tell artists to censor themselves - you may criticize what others do, you may dislike it, that’s fine - but actively asking for censorship when you could easily unfollow or block a person just makes you look incompetent in your use of the internet.
5. Do not give people on tumblr or /any/ website the responsibility for your emotional well-being. Because these people do not even know you so no, you have no right to ask them to take care of you.
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july 8, 2019
i'm not sure what i'm supposed to do with my life right now. cried a little & laughed a lot while talking about the quickest ways to die.
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Oh, Riley: Pt. 1
“Summers!”
Her eyes jolted awake, clear surprise written on her face. Yet there was a hint of grogginess in the way her eyes moved and the slacking of her jaw that made her look like a dumb character from a comedy kids’ cartoon.
She heard snickers then a click which she assumes was the shutter sound of a camera.
“Where am I, who am I?” She thought to herself. And she could only smack herself when she realized that she had slept in class. Again.
Fear crept up to her as she looked up at her English Literature lecturer who was glaring down at her, ears fuming red and eyes formed into thin slits. Just like a dragon.
“Miss, I—“
“Out!” And she closed her mouth. She had her head down the entire time she gathered all her stuff, hearing a couple snickers each time one of her pens would fall to the floor, creating a loud clinking sound as it collided with the tiled floor. All her fingers and toes wouldn’t be enough if she counted how many times she wished for the ground to crack open and pull her away from that scene.
“Kicked out again?” The security guard asked her, offering her a canned drink. She grabbed the can from the young guard and hissed, the drink burning her throat in a way that is discomforting yet pleasing. She nodded in response to the question thrown at her, receiving a chuckle.
The 24 year old security guard had been her company every time she got kicked out from her classes, either by sleeping or not paying attention. The girl had a lot of things on her mind. Most of the stuff she thinks about are about as useless as the existence of the additional two years applied to the learning system.
She chatted with the guard until it was dismissal, excusing herself for detention. It’s a surprise that her parents still haven’t visited the guidance counsellor’s office with the tallies of visits she’s been collecting for two school years.
“Will I even have a week where I don’t get kicked out from class?” And it’s just the start of the week, Monday.
The detention room’s door creaked open and revealed four other people. There was one student who she did not expect to be there, hands and eyes focused on a notebook, next to her was an empty seat. The white-haired transferee was a quiet kid and quite intimidating, her classmates would say. Maybe that’s why no one sat next to her. She immediately tore her eyes away from her subject of interest when the said subject raised her head, probably felt that she was being stared at.
Most of the seats were occupied by stacks of papers and other students in detention, leaving her no other choice but to sit next to the transferee. The sweet, intoxicating scent of a certain cologne that she liked registered to her senses, her eyes threatening to close to relish in the comfort it gave her but she fought it off, determined to save herself from the stares they’d be giving her if she was caught doing it.
The scent came from the transferee, she concluded and decided not to look at the latter’s way, afraid that she might ask where she bought the cologne and annoy the other girl. But after twenty minutes into sitting down and doing nothing, her nerves were starting to get restless. Soon, her eyes were travelling everywhere, desperate to find something interesting so she wouldn’t die of boredom and frustration.
“Why can’t I get lost in my own world when I’m not in class doing something important?” She grumbled to herself, her teeth sinking down on her bottom lip.
Just then, she heard the creaking of the door and made the mistake (?) of turning her head to the door’s direction but instead making eye contact with the white haired girl who surprisingly, was staring at her.
She returned the stare subconsciously, feeling herself getting pulled into the girl’s blue eyes. So cold... Yet so warm. The blue turned into a mix of lavender and strawberries, white dots scattered randomly. Then a black dot. She felt a shiver run up her spine and that was all she needed to smash herself back to reality. They were still staring at each other in silence, the only sound accompanying it was the constant soft whirring of the ceiling fan and the taps on one of the students’ phone. Wait a second— phones were not allowed in detention!
“Summers!”
Her body jolted in response, head turning to the owner of the voice: her Calculus lecturer. She face palmed internally. She was daydreaming. Again. And she’s getting kicked out. Again.
“Get out of my class!” Her Calculus teacher was usually calm and collected but today was one of those days, that day of the month when she can’t tolerate anything that she found annoying. And irritating. And anything that just made her blood boil.
She got out of the classroom but not before tripping twice on the way out. No wonder she’s called the meme source of their school.
She decided to just walk to the detention room instead of going to the guardhouse. She only had ten minutes before dismissal. Aside from the guardhouse, the only place where she was welcome was the detention room.
Will she see the girl this time, though? Even with hours— days of denial, she knew she’d been rather excited to be kicked out for detention in hopes to meet the transferee again. She knew she wanted to see her again. She wanted to stare at those cold, blue eyes even when it felt like being drowned then resuscitated again and again. It had been four nights since she had a peaceful sleep. It had been four nights since Monday.
She could just ask around if they knew the girl but her classmates aren’t the type of people who would talk to the laughing stock of the school, unless they’re required to. The girl was quite famous but none of the people whom she’d eavesdropped on mentioned a name, just “the transferee”. But she knew they were talking about her when they said she had white hair and a hypnotising pair of eyes.
Based from the information she got from listening to other people’s conversations whilst pretending to be ‘doing something definitely not weird’, she gathered that the girl was one of those students who received high marks even without listening to the lecturer. She wondered if the girl was as straight as her straight A’s: she hoped she wasn’t. More so, her information said that she’s a punctual student. It was a mystery to her how the girl ended up in detention on her first day of school.
So imagine Riley’s surprise (and delight) when her eyes spotted a head of white tresses on the same seat she’d seen her four days ago. She tried (and failed) to hide her excitement as she walked to the seat farthest from the girl, scared that the stranger might know what she’s thinking of if she sat next to her again.
She glanced around the room in an attempt to look like she wasn’t nervous at all. She wished she didn’t notice how the other chairs were empty and how they’re the only ones in detention that day.
Maybe they’re just running late, she convinces herself. But who runs late on detention?
Ten minutes has already passed. Still no sign of the other students that kept her company for the past four days. Of course, who would not want to miss detention? She was stuck with the transferee she’s been thinking of for more than four days and she doesn’t know how to act.
“What’s your name?”
Her head snapped to the girl. Was she really asking Riley Summers’s name, the laughingstock of the school? She must be imagining things. Right, she must be.
Except she wasn’t. The girl stared at her intently, still waiting for an answer. Then their eyes connected. There it is again. This time, Riley saw a river in those eyes. It was raining, she couldn’t hear the pit-a-pat of raindrops as they fell but they could clearly see them. It calmed her, as if she was staring at them from a window inside. Then she was pulled back to reality, rather harshly.
Her hand automatically went to her forehead, rubbing on it in an attempt to soothe the sting. She couldn’t believe it, did this girl just flick her forehead?
Riley’s eyes were wide in shock while the other’s was formed into crescents smiling in sheer amusement, a series of apologies continuously coming out of her pink lips. “They look soft… shit.” Her mind said. Riley was certainly gay for the blue-eyed girl.
“I am so sorry, you just stopped breathing and just stared into nothing, I didn’t know what else to do—“
“So you thought the best thing to do was to hit my forehead? With a bloody ruler?” Her voice was suddenly high pitched and there was nothing making sense at all. But did she really forget how to breathe?
“Then how was I supposed to make you breathe?” The girl’s voice mirrored her pitch, a panicked expression on her face.
“I don’t know, you ever heard of CPR?”
Silence.
“What did I just say?” She asked no one in particular, her cheeks were now tinged with pink and her hands resting on her lap.
“You just invited me to kiss you.” The girl blurted out. Riley looked at her, an incredulous look in her already wide eyes.
“I did not say that!”
“I was joking! Calm down!”
It was funny, the way they started talking. They sat in silence after that, the white-haired girl being the first one to break the ice, engaging herself into a conversation with the girl she just hit moments ago.
“You girls are free to go.” Mrs Kent announced to them, entering the room carrying a few more weight on her eye bags and a stack of papers with her. Then she turned to Riley, who was stopped mid sentence while talking about her cat, Paw. “You should really consider getting a break from visiting detention, Riley.” The latter only smiled sheepishly, a tinge of pink showing on her cheeks.
“Your name’s Riley?” The white-haired girl asked her, shock painted in her eyes. “I thought your name was Summer!”
“Well, now you know.” She flashed a smile towards her, “Riley. Riley Summers.”
“Lake Ryder.”
Riley laughed at her and the realization that they still didn’t introduce each other after forty minutes of talking just about anything. She didn’t even notice it was time to go. Lake sure was a great company.
They walked to the campus entrance side by side, chatting about school clubs.
“Well, my ride’s here.” Lake muttered. Riley couldn’t deny the disappointment that she had to end her conversation with the girl already and she still had two days before Monday.
Even so, she managed to give her a sincere smile and just opted to wait for next week. “Get home safe.”
The latter only smiled at her. As she was about to turn around and head to the opposite direction, her movements were halted by the latter.
“Wait,” Lake said, holding on to her wrist, “do you ever have time after classes?”
She could only nod.
“Um. Yeah, here.” Only then she noticed the small strip of paper that Lake has been holding the whole time, a series of numbers scribbled neatly on it. Riley never took the latter as the blushing type but what she witnessed just proved her wrong.
“And about you forgetting to breathe,” she paused, “I’ll remember to give you that CPR.”
She watched as the girl practically ran to her ride’s car after kissing her goodbye on the cheek and whispering that she’ll be expecting her text later.
She stood there dumbfounded. Her delicate fingers found its way to her pink cheeks, her jaw slightly ajar.
She couldn’t help but ask herself, “What just happened?”
—tbc
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i am a kpop fan and i agree. this is actually disrespectful. i am so sorry
cameron boyce, a young actor aged only 20 lost his life very unexpectedly and these kpoppies/trolls are out here making disgusting jokes abt the whole situation saying shit like “if he stanned so and so he wouldn’t have d*ed” or posting fancams and saying “maybe if he did this he would still be alive” i am in disbelief this is why ppl hate kpop and their fucked up stans bc they have no fucking shame or respect i swear to god they make me so sick and I hope they choke
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this is important
mike was written horribly in season three. mike wheeler has a personality outside of wanting to be with el and being mad at hopper, and it was really saddening to see how he was treated.
i‘m not also going to defend mike’s certain actions of season three of him being a dick, but those actions of his are really rooted in his characterization and lack of writing this season. it’s like they forget mike wheeler has a personality at all. where is the mike that stood by his friends in season one, who risked his life for them? where is the mike wheeler that cried in front of his best friend telling him that meeting him was the best thing he’s ever done? where’s the mike wheeler that stayed by will‘s side for days on end to make sure he was safe? where’s the mike wheeler that was smart and cunning and tried to figure out about the mindflayer alongside joyce? the mike that appreciated the hard work and care bob newby gave everyone?
mike was written so out of character, in the fact of him pushing will aside and making his only motivation to win eleven back. why would mike treat will like shit, when we‘d seen him crying over him and staying by his side last season. the fatal flaw of his writing is pretty much rooted in the fact of forgetting the roots and actions that mike had as his character during past seasons. it also makes me question why we‘d have to sacrifice mike‘s character and personality for his arc (if you can even call it that) of the third season.
mike wheeler is a good friend and a caring brother, while also being flawed with trauma he’s faced and anger issues that‘ve made him put up walls around himself. but that’s no reason to scrap what character he does have. we‘ve seen him lash out, and we‘ve seen him cry and isolate himself. but we‘ve also seen him care for the people he loves unconditionally and do whatever he needs to be by their side. seasons one and two prove that to us with his driving force being to protect and stay by will, and make sure his safety is standing by. as well as nearly sacrificing himself for dustin in season one, and showing his friendship with lucas. even when he talks to nancy! where was the mike that promised his sister to having no secrets? as the seasons have gone by, we‘ve lost the original mike wheeler along the way.
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lol
sign: WARNING. WHEN RED LIGHT IS ON, PLEASE DO NOT ENTER THE DARK ROOM.
nancy:
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my heart's hurting in the right ways possible
okay but going from the scene where everyone’s like “oh well el can just defeat the monster” and mike being like “can y’all stop treating her like a weapon please” to the scene where el has no powers so everyone contributes to distracting and killing the monster?? and el sees that all these people stepped up to protect her because they genuinely love her?? not just because she can protect them?? that she has a family in all of these people?? can you believe we went from “they cannot save you, jane” “no, but I can save them” to all of her friends and family giving their all to protect her?? letting her know she doesn’t have to do this by herself??
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okay but going from the scene where everyone’s like “oh well el can just defeat the monster” and mike being like “can y’all stop treating her like a weapon please” to the scene where el has no powers so everyone contributes to distracting and killing the monster?? and el sees that all these people stepped up to protect her because they genuinely love her?? not just because she can protect them?? that she has a family in all of these people?? can you believe we went from “they cannot save you, jane” “no, but I can save them” to all of her friends and family giving their all to protect her?? letting her know she doesn’t have to do this by herself??
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friendly reminder that will and mike fought in the rain and that’s inherently cinematically romantic
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My favorite scene in Into the Spider-verse is when Miles is in the middle of having a panic attack but stops to think about how tall the girl he just walked past was
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