#I have school shit to DO and my brain cannot fucking FOCUS

[anonyhun]

GUUUUUUUUUHHHH

[butchlifeguard]

attention spans dont real lmao. nothing about the condition or support needs of yr adhd can be measured by measuring yr attention span because the nature of adhd is that attention span is incredibly variable. this is bc adhd is characterized by dopamine seeking behavior and not just a timer until we get bored and go on our phones

[wheatnoodle]

welcome to part 4 besties of deaf!steve/steddie

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

—

she lets him play his show. she doesn’t want to ruin it for the other guys, though with the way eddie’s playing, he seems to be doing that himself.

robin cannot look away from him.

her jaw is clenched, thin arms crossed over her chest. while the rest of the bar vibes along to the music, she is stock still. the party tries to pretend they’re enjoying themselves but the awkward glances and forced smiles tell otherwise.

she sees red. and she doesn’t even have a ride to go to her best friend. her other half. she can feel him. her heart is in her stomach, her chest is empty. an aching cavity. she can barely focus.

eddie’s fumbling on stage. he keeps his head down, hair curtaining his face. he wont look at any of them, he can’t look at them. his fingers shake as he stares at his fretboard, fucking up what should be easy progressions. his face is on fire. he knows he needs to get his head in it, but he can’t stop thinking about steve. the way he crumbled right in front of him and, like he seemed to do quite often, scooped up his broken pieces to bring home by himself. every time eddie blinks, there’s teary doe eyes clouding his vision.

so, robin lets him play his show. it doesn’t last long, gareth being the one to shake his head and cut their set short. they pack their gear and step off the stage and robin has her fingers around eddie’s wrist. he has no time to protest as she drags him away. down a back hallway with one light hanging from the ceiling and graffiti on the walls.

“rob-“

she shoves him against the wall, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and tugging him down to her eye level.

“what the fuck is your problem, eddie? what the fuck is your problem?” she hisses into his face, her brows drawn. eddie’s eyes are wide as he stares at her, mouth gaping like a fish. robin wants to smack the look off his features. seconds pass before he’s glaring at her in return.

“my problem? what, so me not wanting to be friends with someone who doesn’t give a shit about me is a problem?” he scoffs, knocking her hands off his shirt.

“what are you talking about?!” robin feels hysterical. she doesn’t know whether she should laugh or scream or cry or all of the above at the same time. “since when does steve not give a shit about you?!”

“since always! since high school!” he throws his arms out. he might be reaching robin’s hysteria, he thinks. “im the freak to him.”

“i cant believe you would say something like that. after everything? really? what happened to you being so totally lovesick you just had to go and start writing your music about it?”

eddie barks out a laugh, tilting his head back to the ceiling, to the one flickering light. “as if it even fucking matters. you know he’s said no every single time ive invited him here? or to a band practice? every time! i don’t even care if he likes it, i just want him to fucking show up!” he’s raising his voice. he knows he is.

“he’s deaf! you shithead!” robin tops his volume. her voice cracks as she puts her hands on eddie’s chest, shoving him again. her cheeks are ruddy, her own eyes glossing over at the intensity of her emotions.

“what?” eddie whispers and he stops. right there. he stops moving, stops blinking, stops breathing. his jaw is dropped. he has that stupid fish look on his face again. every thought leaves his brain, only robin’s words bouncing around in his head. he’s deaf. he’s deaf. he’s deaf.

“he’s deaf. from all of his stupid head injuries. he can’t hear your music at a show, eddie! there’s too much going on!” she’s crying now. angry tears rolling down her cheeks. she wipes them away furiously.

“what do you mean…”

“i mean he doesn’t want you to look at him different or like he’s weird. because he can’t hear. because king steve being deaf just doesn’t make sense and there go proving it,” she shakes her head, her fingers going into her hair to tug at the strands.

“i didn’t…i didn’t know,” eddie gulps thickly. his heart is pounding in his chest. steve is deaf. steve the hair harrington is deaf. steve the babysitter is deaf. steve the monster hunter is deaf. his stevie can’t hear.

“no shit. he doesn’t want any of you to.” eddie’s hands find her wrists and ease her fingers from her hair, pulling her against him. she slumps into his chest, crying in his shirt (if she makes sure to make it extra gross, that’s between her and the lord).

they stand there till she calms down. until she pulls back and tucks her hair behind her ears, wiping her eyes again for good measure.

“i…i need to go see him,” eddie says, nodding along like he’s trying to convince himself it’s what he should be doing. he pats his jeans pockets, finishing out the keys to his van.

“you need to fix this. i’ll get the others to start trying to get in contact with him,” robin sighs, resting the back of her head against the wall. eddie nods again, turning on his heel and sprinting down the hall.

he makes it to the door, gets his hand on the push bar. “eddie?” he turns back around when robin calls his name.

she hesitates a second before closing her eyes and sighing yet again. “don’t break his heart.”

his brow furrows briefly. “i won’t.”

—

tags:

@madcapromantic @youarenotgonnafindme @samcoxramblings @depressed-gays-of-marvel @zombiefang

[shveris]

sukuita, modern au with no sorcery, smoking 🍃 while fucking

warnings: drugs, cigarettes, incest, underage

“wow, you actually cannot be serious.”

honeyed eyes squinted at dark brown ones and there’s the idea of smashing a head in with the physics book on the table.

“‘fuck’s that s’pposed to mean?”, yuuji leaned back in his chair, the wood pressing against his spine uncomfortably, “you knew exactly what you left me here with.” ‘what’ being the project they were assigned to do and ‘you’ being his usual ungrateful relative of a twin.

sukuna responded with a grunt, signalling his annoyance, before he finally sat himself down opposite of his brother. he put his cigarette back between his lips so his hands were free to grab yuuji’s ipad. the screen showed his notes program and a page that was far too empty for something due to the next day.

he took a hit from his cancer stick, blew out the smoke — right into yuuji’s face because of course he would — and proceed to flip over the open physics book with his other hand as well: “i knew you’re stupid but this truly is a new high.”

“me? the stupid one?”, yuuji snorted, “if i wouldn’t know better i’d say you’re the stupid twin, the way you left me to do all the work as if you didn’t even know where to start yourself.” sukuna shot his leg forward, an attempt at kicking his twin in the shin, but yuuji could read him like the back of his hand and had already retracted his limbs.

“you act like a brat, are you sure you’re my age?”

yuuji rolled his eyes and accepted the cigarette as sukuna began scribbling away on his ipad screen. their grandfather would rip their heads off if he knew they were smoking inside the house and their older brother would slap sukuna to sunday and back if he saw the twin enabling yuuji to smoke.

“you shoulda left some of those amazing brain cells of yours for me in the womb, ya know?” yuuji’s words were laced in smoke, his tongue coated with the bitterness of tobacco, and sukuna huffed in amusement.

“at least you’re admitting i’m smarter than you”, he mumbled, eyes darting between the open pages of the book and the messy notes in front of him. focus was a good look on him, the honeyed one decided.

yuuji finished the cigarette while he watched his twin research the variability of mass and how some stupid ‘drive a car into a wall’ example could prove shit — not that he cared.

he stretched his arms and legs, thinking he was probably looking like a starfish, sighed in satisfaction, and pushed his chair back while getting up.

“wha’do you wanna eat?”, he asked as he walked to assess their fridge and cabinets. they would need to grab groceries tomorrow after school, preferably before sundown.

“dunno, udon?” yuuji hummed and grabbed everything to prepare the dish, mindful to add more spices to his twin’s portion.

their days and weeks and months would pass like this, with their grandfather six feet under in a family grave, and their brother on never-ending business trips for a job he didn’t like but took to provide for his little brothers.

two brothers who probably shouldn’t be having each other’s tongues in their mouths, one pressed against the counter of the kitchen, utensils scattered across;

two brothers who were too eager to stumble to the nearby couch, hands gripping at the hems of their clothes, lips exploring every inch of free skin.

“physics gets you horny, seriously?”, yuuji couldn’t help his chuckle when his twin pulled him down to sit on his hips, dick hard and pushing between plump cheeks.

“your cute ass acting like a whole husband got me horny, fucking idiot.” the honeyed smiled when their lips crashed together, happily taking in his brother’s compliments.

sukuna glumly removed one of his hands from yuuji’s tights to dig in between the cushions of the couch, searching for a familiar bottle of emergency lube they’d stored (read: forgotten) after their last fuck on it.

yuuji moaned into sukuna’s mouth when he felt his twin’s dripping fingers open him up keenly, obviously desperate to get his dick inside as fast as he could — not that he’d blame him.

groans and whimpers echoed back into their ears with each skilled movement of sukuna’s wrist, the sound of slick and skin on skin accompanying yuuji’s voice beautifully. sukuna could listen to this the whole day and never get tired of it.

“you’re gonna look so pretty when you ride me”, sukuna whispered, lubing up his cock with a graceful amount, and a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips when yuuji just hummed in agreement. he grabbed his twin by his waist, guiding him up a little before letting out a hiss as yuuji grabbed his dick to line him up with himself.

“urghh, fuck”, yuuji’s loud groan almost tuned out the moan that slipped from his twin’s chest. the honeyed continued lowering himself and sukuna let his left arm slide down, too focused on yuuji’s blush and blown pupils — and suddenly, he got reminded of something. he let his hand wander lower until he grazed the fabric of his cargo pants that were dropped onto the floor earlier and searched for the thigh pocket that contained his malboro.

yuuji, too focused on getting every bit of his brother’s dick into himself, didn’t notice sukuna fumbling with the red cigarette pack. the click of a lighter finally caught his attention and he let out a loud laugh: “is my ass that bad?”

sukuna grinned after blowing out the smoke, the joint in his hand being offered to yuuji’s lips.

“nah, just figured we could double the fun.” dark eyes watched as yuuji took a deep hit before exhaling with a content expression. sukuna expertly shifted his own hips a little, earning him a high pitched yelp and slap on the chest, but he felt satisfied upon seeing how well his twin was able to take all of him. he debated on wrapping his other hand around yuuji’s length but then decided to just let his brother deal with it himself or make him come untouched — either way, yuuji would enjoy it, he knew.

“c’mon, move”, he demanded instead, taking another hit from the blunt. yuuji muttered a “desperate” under his breath but started with small bounces. his knees were gripping sukuna’s sides with enough force to keep both of them grounded for a bit, all while he leaned closer and closer to his twin’s chest and face.

sukuna let him nip at his bottom lip before putting the joint between them. he inhaled a good amount of it before smashing their mouths together, letting their breaths mix the drug in their mouths. yuuji moaned in earnest, hips now moving up and down with new found vigour.

neither cared about the ash leaving marks on the couch and wooden floor, the lube wetting the sofa’s fabric, the neighbours potentially hearing their voices through the open kitchen window.

all that mattered were the frantic movements of their hips, their exchanged breaths after taking turns on the joint and the pressures in their guts screaming for release. but the more time passed, the more tired yuuji could feel his muscles become, or the way his eyesight began to swim objects into each other — it was a welcome and familiar effect but he’d rather have his orgasm before getting mulled into the weed’s influence completely.

“can’t move. tired.” yuuji buried his face under his twin’s chin before biting down on the junction between neck and shoulder. sukuna groaned, pleasure spiking up his spine at the sudden pain. he quickly finished the joint before tossing it onto the glass table next to them. his body felt heavy when he flipped them over but he didn’t give it much of his mind when his fucked out brother was looking at him like he carved out the sun and the moon and the entire night sky.

“it’s okay, i gotchu”, was all he mumbled against yuuji’s lips before starting a vicious pace. the honeyed moaned in content, weak hands grabbing at everything and nothing at all before setting on sukuna’s underarms. they tasted the weed of each other’s tongues before sukuna dove down to sink his teeth into every patch of skin they could grab.

“touch”, yuuji’s mind was melting away with every thrust, “‘kuna, please- ah- please touch me.” and how could such a request ever be denied?

sukuna grabbed the base of yuuji’s dick, making him mewl at the new found contact. his fingers weren’t as tight as he wanted — blame the weed — but it did the job. he could feel his brother tightening up around him, noting that he was close to coming. he himself was almost there as well and he pulled his lips away from yuuji’s nipple to catch his expression.

“fuck, fuck, fuck”, the boy chanted, golden eyes crossing, “‘kuna- i’m- i wanna cum, please-“ tears started pooling down his temples and catching themselves in his ears so sukuna licked them from his skin, humming at the saltiness.

“go ahead” was all yuuji needed before completing arching his back from the couch and spilling all over his abdomen and chest. sukuna used the new tightness to drive himself in and out at a rapid speed, enjoying the slapping of their sticky skin ringing in his ears.

yuuji’s sobs about it being ‘too much’; yuuji’s body shaking from his orgasm; yuuji squirming from overstimulation; yuuji’s nails digging into his arms painfully; yuuji’s ass clenching around his pulsing dick so perfectly; yuuji’s mindless blabbering and pleading.

it was all sukuna needed to jump over the edge and letting himself fall into the heaving chest of his brother. catching his breath was an easy task with yuuji there to guide them, fingers combing through his sweaty hair as they did so.

“shit, that weed’s strong.” the deep rumble underneath sukuna’s ears slowly dragged his mind back to the present and he propped himself up to look at yuuji. his pupils were blown impossibly wide, a ring of amber gold all he could make out as he let himself be pulled in for some kisses.

yuuji brushed his lips along every inch of his face, tickling sukuna, and the honeyed grinned happily when he heard his twin chuckle silently at the notion.

“ah, i don’t really wanna get up and continue cooking”, yuuji admitted. he’d rather bask in the warmth of his brother’s body on top of him, the weight of the boy making him feel comfortable. his mind was reeling back any complex thoughts he might’ve wished to have, the only thing he could think of was sukuna.

“i’ll take care of it.” and with that yuuji was prompted with a kiss on his forehead.

[tyrantisterror]

Fantastic Rants and Where to Find Them

So, back when the Herbie Porber movies were still being made, Warner Brothers saw the cash cow on their hands and decided they had to lock that shit down as much as possible to make sure they could milk it until its teats were chafed and withered to nothing. To that end, they bought the rights to every book the Terf Queen had written by that point - which included all the Henry Pansley wizard school mystery books, but also two gag books set within the Henry Pansley world: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, which was presented as an in-universe biology textbook for wizard children, and Quidditch Through the Ages, which was an in-universe book of trivia for a fake magical sport.

And at the time everyone with a brain who'd read those two books was shaking their head and thinking how dumb those corporate executives were to do that because, like, those aren't novels or novelas or short stories or narratives of any kind. They are, and I cannot stress this enough, a fake textbook and a fake trivia book about fake things written in a slapdash manner as a cheap gag. They existed for three reasons:

First, to sell something Herbie Porber related at a significantly lower price point than the actual novels so the Terf Queen could get more of that sweet, sweet Scholastic Book Fair money by having something poor kids could buy.

Second, to give a portion of the proceeds raised from that poor kid book fair money to charity so the Terf Queen could get some nice tax writeoffs.

And as a distant third, to expand the world-building of the Henry Pansley setting a teensie bit.

Now, as far as I'm aware, they succeeded at the first two well enough - tons of kids bought those cheap-ass thin as shit paperbacks when I was a kid, myself among them. Well, ok, I only bought Fantastic Beasts and skipped Quidditch because even during the height of my Herbie Porber fan days I thought the Terf Queen's imaginary sport was really fucking stupid and every time it popped up in the books I was bored as shit and tried to skim it as quickly as possible to get to the interesting stuff. I think I looked over the book once in a Barnes and Noble and thought, "Wow, I knew I thought real sports were boring as shit, but it turns out fake ones are even more so."

But back on track - goal number three was... kind of successful, I guess? Like, I don't know if you know this, but bestiaries of fictional animals are one of my big interests. I love a big book of made up creatures, and have collected many in my long life of thirty-four years. And as I said, I got a copy of Fantastic Beasts - technically several, because those cheap ass paperbacks disintegrated if you read them more than once, and I haven't met a bestiary that I haven't poured over several times, no matter how shitty. And despite how often I read it, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them was, well... pretty mid, honestly. It's a book that's 99% world-building, and like all of the Terf Queen's world-building, it's overall mediocre and undercooked.

Like, in pure Herbie Porber style, it's mostly concepts that have been done in fantasy fiction and mythology dozens of times before with no real original spin on them whatsoever, often stripped down to their most recognizable elements alone. There are a smattering of original ideas that are actually interesting an novel, a few more original ideas that have potential but don't seem very well-thought out as is, and then some that are clearly just there to be a joke and are amusing for, like, a second, but also would quickly become annoying if they were given any focus.

I'll give a very me-specific example. As a fan of vaguely medieval european fantasy tropes, one of the metrics by which I judge a bestiary is "How does this handle dragons?" Because, like, I don't know if you know this, but I love dragons a lot, and the sheer variety of dragons in fiction is one of my favorite things in the world. There is a smorgasbord of different dragons a person can choose from just in folklore and mythology alone, and that variety is reflected in a given bestiary, the higher I think of it.

The Terf Queen's bestiary gives us ten dragon breeds... and they're all more or less the same except for scale color and minor variations in size. Oh, and their names, which are all based on different dog breeds because the Terf Queen thought that was funny. It's the worst of both worlds because it gets your dragon-loving hopes up that there'll be lots of unique dragons but no, they're just different colors, ho hum. Even the Chinese Dragon sticks to the same basic bitch wyvern body plan as the rest, when, you know, Chinese dragons have SUCH a different body plan than any of their European counterparts. It's downright insulting to the variety and creativity of this iconic folkloric archetype to reduce it to such a samey-set of monsters. Absolutely the most disappointing dragon entry in any bestiary I've ever read, just infuriating.

BUT, BACK ON THE INCREASINGLY DERAILED TRACK: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them was never meant to be a "great" book. Remember goals one and two: it was a cheap cashgrab, a gimmick, a gag book. It was meant to be a disposable bit of fun - "Tee hee, here's a goofy textbook from this goofy wizard story that you kids will likely grow out of in a few years, you can read it in twenty minutes and not feel bad when you pitch it because there's very little substance to it, and it only costs three bucks."

The Terf Queen doesn't write textbooks, gag or otherwise, she writes novels, narratives, and in its original form Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them was clearly just her fucking around with something whimsical and stupid for shits and giggles (and money, sweet sweet money). The original version of it was published with notes in the margin written by Henry Pansley and Donnie Stoat themselves, the two wizard hooligans writing little jokes and messages to each other with further references to other characters from the series, both to add more humor and because, again, the Terf Queen writes novels, and it was clear she couldn't commit to the "fake textbook" bit without working in some characters riffing it for her own sanity. And that makes it work as a gag book - you get a few laughs from the wizard hooligans playing MST3K with their shitty textbook, learn a little about the (undercooked and poorly thought out) ecosystem of the wizardy world, and then when you reach the back cover the spine of your cheap as shit pulp paperback book falls apart and, unless you've got a weird obsession with bestiaries, you throw the dying book in the garbage without a second thought. Three bucks spent well enough.

BUT, TO GET BACK ON THE INCREASINGLY DERAILED TRACK AGAIN: Warner Brothers bought the rights to this cheapo cashgrab gag textbook, and goddamn it, they were/are determined to squeeze Herby Porber's sore teats until every last drop of money milk spills from his chapped and bleeding nipples. They announced they were going to make a Fantastic Beasts movie towards the end of making the Herby Porber novels into films, and everyone with a brain sat there and thought, "Well, that's going to be a stupid cashgrab. Bet the Terf Queen's laughing her ass off at how dumb it'll be, too."

But the Terf Queen was not laughing, at least not for long, for once the Henry Pansley movies wrapped up, she was left with the horrifying knowledge that people didn't care for her non-wizard books all that much, certainly not enough to keep her rolling in sweet, sweet money. She needed that mega millionaire cash, and she needed it in abundance and she needed it quick. So when Warner Brothers asked her to write a movie based on her cheapo cashgrab gag textbook, she said, "Yeah, I can make a novel out of that! I - I'm a talented writer! People love my writing! They definitely love my writing and they'd love to pay money for things I wrote that don't directly feature Henry Pansley!"

So now she had to pretend that Fantastic Beasts, the cheapo cashgrab gag textbook about made up animals in a made up world, has a narrative. Not just any narrative, but a grand, sprawling narrative, one to rival, nay, SURPASS Herbie Porbie and the Seven Books of Wizard-Themed Coming of Age Nonsense. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, she assured us, was to be a magnificant tale, and one she planned all along, and CERTAINLY not a marriage of convenience to a completely stupid idea for a film that she was desperately sculpting into a narrative it had no ability to support for the sake of trying to recapture her already passed glory days as a writer.

And I think, in retrospect, this is a great illustration of the Terf Queen's great character flaw. She just can't fucking admit to a mistake, even when it's obvious to everyone that one was made. She will hop on board a sinking ship and keep doubling down on trying to get it to sail even as the water is up to her neck. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them is a serious narrative now, not a gag textbook written to wring a few more dollars from school children goddammit!

Recent editions of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them took out the Herbie and Donnie commentary, by the by. They also added many of the new half-baked monsters that were introduced in the movies, in a shoddy attempt to pretend this was the plan all along, and that Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them was always meant to be the seed of something great.

But it wasn't, and no matter how hard the Terf Queen pretends otherwise, it's obvious it wasn't. It's a cheapo cashgrab gag textbook, and that's all it really had to be, until greed and ego demanded otherwise.

[circular-bircular]

hello! im currently questioning whether I am disordered or not. I was wondering if you would be willing to share your experiences if you're comfortable or maybe share some good resources about what its like being disordered because im really lost rn. this blog is great btw! take care of yourself <3

Hey there! Glad you enjoy my blog, sorry it took a bit to get to this. This is the first night in like a month that I have any free time whatsoever (and that's cause I'm putting off grades, lol...)

I hope you don't mind a bulletpointer on this one!

Disordered experiences...

Firstly, I cannot overstate how fucking everything about me is impacted by trauma. Physical health? I get sick more often because my body has fought as hard as it has to survive -- it's an actual thing that traumatized people get physically sick more often. Mental health? Shit. Depression's comorbid, anxiety is comorbid, and I've even seen discussions about the connections between autism and DID, and those two do not mix well in me. All of my everything is constantly fucked.

I cannot goddamn sleep. Sleep is a goddamn hellscape. I run from somewhere between 2 to 6 hours of sleep most nights, and have to take plenty of naps just to survive. That makes it next to impossible some days to get the energy I need, or if I did get enough nappies, to get the free-time I need.

In terms of my actual DID... Amnesia is the biggest one. I constantly have gaps. I have to write every single thing down. I have plenty of accomodations, sure! But even those fail from time to time, and then it's just a spiral. Like, today at work, I had a surprise meeting I did not write down, because I just forgot to. I forgot about the meeting until 10 minutes prior, when I got an alert in my email about it. This meant I skipped lunch, and had to try and focus without having eaten since 9am. This made my day harder, which led to...

Dissociation!!! God fuck. It's so hard to focus sometimes. I am so spaced out. Today was one of those days where I had to cling to my phone for survival and grounding. Not the healthiest coping mechanism, but it's better to be writing posts on tumblr during class than forgetting I'm in class at all. And none of the kids snitch on me -- just get a little pissy if I don't call on them quickly enough.

Trauma flashbacks. Ough. If I get stuck in one, goodbye ability to think for awhile. It's been happening more and more frequently at work lately, so there goes my 30 minute lunch spent in the bathroom forgetting I exist because I feel like I'm going to my parents house after school.

That ties into paranoia. I have to convince myself more often than not that, when I get home, my abusers won't be there. I'm 26 and haven't directly lived with them in 3 years, and I cut them off close to a year ago. I still wake up thinking they're breaking in.

That's about all I can think off quick, off the top of my head. Basically... owie owie my brain is a big ol bruise.

[aboutnavi]

I never do this, and I've zero awareness of anything that is happening in the marauders fandom etc. because I actually do not spend that much time online, but now I'm pissed so congratulations, I'm mad and I will rent about it.

First of all, I won't get into the whole "white supremacist"/"fascist" allegations, because 1. I feel like you people actually don't know what fascism means anymore and I blame internet brain rot for this so I would genuinely recommend going back to school* - and yep, this is me being polite because you people truly don't wanna hear what I genuinely want to call you because calling your argument stupid is apparently stepping over the line and english also limits myself from the portuguese horizons of names that you people probably wouldn't understand; 2. Because this post about Regulus already said everything it needs to be said and I won't repeat myself - I would recommend reading but as of lately I'm actually doubting you people reading abilities, so maybe do try to read, but give it a good one ok ;)

Second of all: coherence people. You cannot come over tumblr dot com with #anti(insert ship) and then 1. expect people not to react and 2. tell people to "be polite" while you actually make your whole page about hating a certain ship. Let me give an example: I particularly don't like certain couples in the marauders fandom. Have you ever heard of me saying shit about them? Have you EVER seen a post of my on tumblr dot com pissing on people who like them? Is any of my mutuals, friends, or casual followers even knows what couples are they? No. Because when I don't like something, I shut my fucking mouth and I move on with my life, dedicating myself to things that I actually enjoy. That is called not being a bitter loser - see, now I'm actually not being polite, which is different from calling your argument stupid on a tag. Now I'm calling you a bitter loser on the actual post.

"Oh, but I miss when the fandom was like this and this and this and now is all about this and this". I actually don't even have words. Hold my hand while I walk you through this: did you ever thought about not engaging with what you don't like??? See, I don't actually engage with the Harry Potter fandom in general - there is only one couple I read from the original story of the books, and no one knows about it, because I don't make posts about it and I rarely even speak about them. I don't like the Harry Potter fandom. I don't even really respect them. Do I make posts about them? No. Do I cry my eyes out about how the fandom should focus on this one couple I enjoy sometimes? No.

Now, when it comes to Harry Potter, I actually do participate more in the marauders fandom. Do I like all of the marauders fandom? No. Do I spend my precious life hours making posts about those parts I hate and wish it was different? No! You know why? (& I know this must be really difficult to understand): Because I get my stuff, I move to the corner of the fandom where there is people, authors and ships I do like, and I thrive myself in being in the environment that I enjoy, ALL THE WHILE letting people be happy in their own little fandom-corner because, again, I'm not a bitter loser who spends time and time and time again dedicating my whole page about "how the interpretation of these online people I've never met about FICTIONAL CHARACTERS are not fulfilling my idea of "canon" or my own idea of said characters".

And I have great news!!! On ao3, you can actually filter things to not show you ships or dynamics you don't like. Crazy right? Almost like you can actually be part of a fandom and only read certain authors, ships and stories. I know, I know, super duper insane.

"Oh but I don't like the way this author wrote this characters, what should I do except go on tumblr and be a bitter loser?" Oh thank you so much for asking! Have you ever thought of opening something called Google docs? It's magic, I swear. You open and there is a blank page, and then you use your two braincells and you... (dramatic pause) WRITE A STORY YOURSELF! Isn't that great? You actually have freedom to do whatever you wish with whatever characters you like because no one really takes canon seriously and having your own story means you can exercise those brain juices and be creative and expand on the original world building and give attention to characters who rarely appeared on canon. You can even murder very bloodily that one character you really hate. And the best part? When you post, you actually can create a community with people that also likes to read the same things at you and have similar interpretations of the characters! You build your own fandom corner, isn't that so beautiful?

* I will leave it here, also, this:

[bondsmagii]

do you have any tips/advice for beating internet addiction? I'm tired of dicking around on the same 3 websites for 15 hours a day and I need my life back. i miss reading!

YES I do!! unfortunately it sounds very obvious and very shit. but it is the tried and tested proven way to do it, and contrary to what I usually say -- that your mileage may vary because everyone is different -- I find that with shit like this there's only one way to do it.

you gotta just go cold fucking turkey, man.

I used to genuinely be addicted to the internet. I would spend at minimum 12 hours a day online. sometimes, I could spent up to 20 hours online, staring at the same handful of websites, refreshing endlessly, and not even wanting to be there. but I couldn't do anything else, because I would get bored so easily, or there was just nothing that I wanted to do. it was an endless cycle.

internet addiction works loosely like this:

you find yourself with not much to do, either because there just isn't anything to do (you're stuck at home in a boring place, for example) or you don't have the ability to do what you want to do (you have an illness or disability that makes it difficult to do certain things, for another example)

the internet at first is your friend, because it gives you access to things you wouldn't usually have, and at first this is entertaining and beneficial

you start spending more time online

slowly you get used to the constant gratification of refreshing and finding new content

as you get used to this, your attention span lowers, and you start demanding more content, faster

eventually you reach the point where you cannot refresh fast enough to keep yourself entertained; content is not being created fast enough for you

your attention span is so destroyed that you cannot even commit to going hunting for new content -- this demands too much attention and focus

you end up on the same sites, refreshing constantly, but with no attention to do anything else.

so, you end up in a fair bit of trouble. like all addictions, you're eventually going to reach the point where you max out. your body can't take anymore. in this case, your attention span has been destroyed. this makes it very difficult to fathom ever doing anything that doesn't provide immediate entertainment, but! good news. your attention span can be rebuilt.

a lot of people don't realise this. your attention span is not a finite resource that siphons off. it's a muscle that atrophies. your brain wants to be entertained, and while it will go for instant gratification first -- this is low effort and more immediately satisfying -- what it prefers are things that hold your attention for a long time, and are gratifying and time-consuming. it wants to get its money's worth, basically. and you can re-train yourself to enjoy these longer, slow-burn tasks.

but to do this you have to kick the habit. you have to reset. and the only way to effectively do this is to go cold turkey. I'm talking two weeks of extremely limited screen time, minimum. if you cannot trust yourself to check briefly after waking up and before bed and nothing else, then you must do no screen time. in fact, I'd recommend that anyway. do not look at social media at all. do not visit these websites. completely cut yourself off from all instant gratification: no social media, no instant messaging, nothing. if you have to use the internet for school or work, visit only those sites that you need and no more. block other sites if you have to. just do not engage.

the first while is going to suck. you are going to be bored, and restless, and miserable, and probably genuinely depressed. it's fine, it's normal, but you must not give in to it. it's good. it means it's working. you have to ride through it, and start forcing yourself to do other things. read a few pages of a book. go out on a walk. make something nice to eat. do some art. hell, clean. even if the task sucks, do anything that is not going online. do this every day, multiple times. keep yourself busy. force yourself to do things for a set amount of time. be a little harsh with yourself -- you are not going to restore your attention span if you do not push yourself a little. your brain is going to be throwing a fit demanding something more easily entertaining, and you have to be the responsible one and say no. and it really will suck.

eventually, though, it's going to get easier. cold turkey is the biggest shock; once you make it through, and prove there are other ways to fill your day, you have to remain committed. stay offline as long as you can. if you really must check, set a time and do not exceed it. prioritise all offline activities first, and only go online if you have spare time. keep committed to the other things. you will find that gradually, the constant refreshing and the sheer nothing that you find online is not as satisfying. you'll want to seek out longer, more fulfilling things. you'll want to finish that book you're reading. you'll want to work more on your art. you'll want to go out, or watch a documentary, or meet with friends, or organise the junk in your bedroom, or whatever it is. you'll be feeling calmer, and more focused, and generally less annoyed and stressed out. you'll probably start to regard a lot of what goes on online as kind of ridiculous. your priorities will reset. and from there it will only get easier and more enjoyable.

like I said, from 12-20 hours a day, I've got my online time down to 30 minutes in the week, if that. on weekends I let myself dick around more -- but only if I want to. there are whole weekends where I don't even turn on my laptop. and man, is it preferable. this shit is reversible, and I also say this as somebody with ADHD. so even if you have that working against you, I promise you it's still possible. you just have to be prepared to suffer for a while, but sometimes suffering isn't a bad thing. sometimes it's very fucking necessary.

tl;dr you get addicted because your brain gets used to quick and constant entertainment. this is reversable. go cold turkey and do things that require more time and focus for a couple of weeks, and then limit your social media time forever. at first it will suck but eventually you will literally realise how dumb it is and stop missing it.

[liverobinreaction]

Chum Liveblog - Chapter 1

So i already read this chapter but will read it again bc it fucks. Go read Chum by @reachartwork if you like baby superheroes with weird powers. Mute the tag #chum liveblog if you arent interested! I might also move this to my main @bugbeee if people prefer that

1) the writing style draws me in immediately since the way the narrator (Sam) thinks and talks is so very reminiscent of my own adhd riddled brain. The way she notices one thing before immediately moving to the next detail is just. Chefs kiss

2) the tapa tapa tapa does something to my hindbrain. Like literary asmr.

3) god Sam's awkwardness and hesitance about her accident combined with her bluntness is so fucking good

4) SHARK TEETH SHARK TEETH SHARK TEETH

5) SHARK TEETH WITH DRAWBACKS HOT DAMN

6) “I didn’t get any gills though, which would’ve been cool. I can’t breathe underwater. But I think I can swallow salt water, but that’s kind of a sh- kind of a poopy superpower so you don’t need to write that one down. Don’t write that one down, please?” I would die for you Sam

7) god the author is so good at writing the livewire nervousness that accompanies the MC. Like the little details of bouncing knees and flexing hands that she grabs to stop, the tapping and moving- i love you so much for this

8) her mom taught her the word austere :)

9) ohhh she's got those bruce the shark powers (sniffing blood)

10) god her asking if the officer needs her friends contact numbers like the fbi shes just a KID

11) ohoho JLUMA??? desperate to know the acronym meaning for that. Its something shes applied for and its a license so hmmm [thinky face]

12) the way she gets annoyed over her parents gushing over her its so teenager i love her. Also she did so good at her bat mitzvah :)

13) "Once I get my license, does that mean I can go out and start biting people? Not that I plan to do that, I’m just wondering.” Yeah does she know i would die for her???

14) sam says acab fuck yeah

15) Officer Gold shrugs his shoulders and opens the front door, clearly also trying to escape the situation like I am. “Well, who knows. A supe just got elected to City Council. Maybe you’ll be the first superhuman senator if you stay in school and focus on your studies?” Oh that is a fucking gorgeous piece of foreshadowing/world building. Frothing at the mouth rn

16) THE CATEGORIES time to toss the worm categories out of my brain

17) breakdown of her powers a la government dossier! God its fascinating to see how its classified and seen in this world

18) AND WE HAVE AN ACRONYM MEANING 'Juvenile License to Utilize Metahuman Abilities' holy shit theres so much unsaid in that. When did it come about, how, whats its scope (which was briefly touched upon) etc. i cannot WAIT

19) bad dream/flashback? Its written so well and sams commentary of it feels real. "The situation is fucked beyond repair. I think I’m allowed to say that now."

20) oh my fucking god. "I hope I don’t die right now, because thinking about my parents being sad at my funeral makes me sad, but also, I hope I do die, because if I have to live one more second with this kind of pain I’m going to kill myself, myself." Author. Author. Who gave you the RIGHT to hit me like that

21) her realisation about why shes in so much pain, seeing her grandpa screaming through the water, the fishing metaphors- aughhhhhhhh

22) god i love the continued mention of words her mom has taught her its just. So fucking real of her

Conclusion: holy fucking shit what an absolute BANGER of a first chapter. I am hooked. I am printing this out and eating it. Thank you author for writing this, I will read more tomorrow

[queenofwasps]

bruh im gonna get a straight up 0 on my TSI tomorrow like i dont remember shit from high school math & even after taking amphetamine and a couple of supplements i literally CANNOT for the life of me focus on these fucking videos or sheets. like ill be listening & watching for a couple seconds and then my brain will drift off to a special interest of mine and get locked on it for minutes at a time while it feels like im still paying attention, only to come time to actually to the practice work and i keep having to rewatch over and over and over again just for the same result each time. how do ppl do this i dont understand fuck. and i honestly wouldn’t care if it werent for the fact that the low level math classes don’t count towards my degree, but still cost the same as regular ones. i cant afford this even with loans lmfao. i know i have no choice, and id much rather try school and get as far as i can than forever lead a life wondering what could’ve been since i’m genuinely passionate about my major, but shit this feels impossible.

[phoenix-knight]

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: so, how are ya doin?

Me: running on fast depleting reserves of energy because I have no idea how others do it and why the fuck does this have to be so difficult?

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: when was the last time you took a breather?

Me: I don't fuckin know, I don't remember...ok I see what you're implying but there is no way law school will be less cruel to me

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: I notice you have the eyes of imminent burnout and forceful productivity

Me: I see you're talking about irrelevant things

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: why?

Me: ok lookie here thought technician, I worked my ass off for a classical dance performance on the 74th Republic day of India, while totally wrecking my body cause my glutes ached for days with all the half-sitting/squatting positions and brutal practice... I got barely 5 days of rest most of which I spent worrying about how the fuck I was gonna complete all the research papers I have been assigned. now our dance contingent is participating in a fest and obviously, I couldn't not go there because its an opportunity for a professional competition, and the dancer in me is hungry for some fucking recognition even if my brain engine is running on sleep deprivation and SSRI meds. I still just had to fucking go cause that's what members do for their team. with all the dance practices till 5 PM, I reach home one and half hour later at 6:30 PM, taking into account the time I take to freshen up in the space of an hour, I have no space to breathe. I am already freaking out about the amount of research I have to get done and the 1500 word essays I have to write. here i am ranting on tumblr about said pressure and stress of managing a hundred things simultaneously, instead of completing what I can. I have gone as far as to bring my laptop to class and read research papers in class while trying to blink my eyes into submission after staring at the screen for too fucking long...*panting*

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: (...)

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: (.......)

Me: *still panting*

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: wow, that's a......

Me: I know what you're gonna say, don't say it, don't you fucking say-

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: ...a lot.

Me: FUCKKKKKK I KNOOOOOOOOOW *lets out a bloodcurdling scream*

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: *looks visibly petrified*

Me: *sighs* that felt better, now that you're on the same page, what the fuck do I do.

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist:(awkwardly) do what you can...?

Me: no shit, doc.

Dr.Tumblr Mindfuckery, The Therapist: *clears throat* look, i know it seems like a shitty thing to say, but really, you ARE doing the best you fucking can with the energy and will you currently have. you have a lot on your plate and that is clearly exhausting, it is totally understandable that at the end of the day you are physically and mentally exhausted. it makes sense that you have little to no energy left to cater to the projects that were assigned to you. you cannot run on empty smoke, human bodies get tired, need alone time, to recharge and replenish energy reserves. human bodies need rest to do better at whatever they can't seem to do after pulling an allnighter. even though juggling things simultaneously is fucking hard, i know you're still standing. you are surviving and moving forward, slowly and surely. take a breath, reprioritize, and focus on doing what you think is possible right now, not on perfecting everything you do. you may not be able to achieve the quality you envisioned, but that quality of research comes from at least weeks of research and enough time to comb through them. you have neither the time nor the energy reserve to do that right now. you have to execute what is currently feasible, not what is clearly unrealistic, such expecting to be able to contribute 100% to dance for 3+ hours, attending classes for hal, travel, study and writing assignments....

Do what you can.

[mcrmadness]

I'm currently doing some maths exercises because of my school, and this exercise is all about statistics. I don't know what is it with repetitive numbers or characters (as in letters or numbers), but I find it so so difficult to see them.

For example, this exercise uses Excel and has small numbers (1-5) on two rows and the exercise asks me to count how many times each number exist in that table. And holy shit is that difficult for me to SEE. Like, finding the numbers between each other is so difficult. I actually had to choose all cells with the same numbers and change the colors of those cells just so that I am even able to tell where's what and make the counting easier.

These exercises are also all about median and mode and... fuck, the median one is so difficult because there are so many similar numbers in a row that I just stop being able to see them once there are more than 3. I have to count them by pointing at them with my fingers just to be able to count above 4 numbers.

Which all is... not exactly a bad thing. Like, as long as I get the job done, it's all good, right? But I have just often been wondering this my eyes' inability to count repetitive characters when the amount is more than three. Like, even reading a phone number can be difficult if it has the same digit for more times than just 2-3 times.

I think this is not affecting numbers only, but also the way I see things when I draw. The exact same thing happens when I'm using references and I see only one detail at once but not the others, often leading to me drawing something with proportions far from the reference because I cannot see the forest from the trees. This is why I use the grid technique when I draw photorealistic humans, and even then when I focus on one square of the grid, I only see details and not the whole picture in that square. And then it's always like "wait but there's more stuff to this square than this line, wtf, when???" because I simply did not see anything else there. And I just can't make my eyes see more than that one thing.

Is this what dyslexia feels like? For quite a long time I have been wondering if I could have mild dyslexia but not affecting everything I do. Mostly I have problems with things I mentioned here, memorizing and recalling series or letters or numbers (I always suck at these what comes to foreign languages), reading out loud longer more difficult words (my mother tongue has lots of long words) and sometimes I just can't get the letters in the right order when I try to pronounce words like "addrenaline" or "non-conforming", it actually took me ages to even learn how to write the latter and I still don't know if it's even right. I am not able to pronounce it properly because the n, f and m get mixed every time I try. Sure, English has its own quirks that don't fit my mouth in general, but Finnish also has lots of more difficult words but of which I of course cannot remember a single one right now.

Sure, anything could also be just related to ADHD. Some days I'm so bad at reading cos I'm feeling slightly hyperactive and my brain refuses to read sentences with the words in a correct order and keeps jumping from word to words as it pleases, leading to me not understanding a single thing because the text is literally all over the place. And then some days this does not happen at all. Usually the letters stay in place, at least.

Anyhow, back to these maths exercises now. Only a few left and then I'm done with this course for good.

[adhderall]

I'm only intelligent to make up for my SEVERE adhd whatever the fuck else is2g . I'm some marvel of evolution or whatever but I'm some piece of shit with no life who does drugs all the time lol.

it's honestly a miracle that I graduated high school bc I burned out sooooo bad and basically did none of my work........ except for one class bc I was really attached to the teacher (he was good at it for real though and the subject was interestinggggg and genuinely the classes were so interesting that I couldn't help but pay attention. also I had adderall but besides that. also i loved to talk to him after school and tell him all about niche online discourse. this poor at-the-time 50-something - nearly 60 - year old man.)

and uhh another class bc he gave literally 0 work or homework ever the entire class was just lecture. and I'll be real, he was a good lecturer and definitely kept my attention. actually really fun to listen to. and I did write notes mostly bc it was an ap class and I wanted Some chance of passing. and I did I got the max (5). or whatever. I went to like one study review a week? or so before the test. though ig I'll be fair, it was a subject I took great interest in and had read abt on my own for fun but generally it's a trend that even without doing the classwork or homework (getting a shit grade too) or with copying off the internet or someone else I pass exams including big final exams. I also tbh barely studied. except the one class I was dedicated to doing WELL in because yeah. that class was actually pretty hard too but I did my best to do everything required and study (even if I still procrastinated because my brain is broken)

college classes I took weren't hard at all tbh but the WORK was tedious. I hate doing things that feel pointless (which tbh is most coursework because it's designed for practice but I don't really neeeeed practice or at least not as much as they make me do and takes time and focus to do)

I think what you can get from all of this is that I'm Very interest-driven. and if I feel something is pointless it's extremely painful to do it. I know NOBODY likes boring tasks but I swear it feels like grating my brain with sandpaper and pulling out all the hairs on my body individually (and I have a LOT of hair) when I have to do anything I don't want/don't see the point in. but Obviously everyone has to do shit they don't want to do so I have to force myself but I swear it's EXCRUCIATING i cannot stress enough how painful it is. it's not just a minor inconvenience to me . trying to develop coping strategies for this btw but God it's fucking hard

[ramblesinshamblesgreenbus]

I suppose beneath it all, I’m a girl’s girl in that I will always be a girl, even when I’ve ascended, even when I’m dead. like christin said, if they didn’t want me to be one at fifty they should’ve let me be one at fifteen. the girls who aren’t doing it for the girls are the ones screaming for everyone to grow up get over it. why is she still hung up on something from so long ago? why does she care so much? remember that jenny zhang essay published in poetry in 2015, where she kept repeating noonecaresnoonecares? the feeds turn everyone into the kids in your high school english class who made fun of the idea of poetry, of the compulsion to sit inside a feeling. whether you accept this or not, you really do carry every age inside you and no matter what you do, certain past ages rise to the surface and stay stubborn n stuck. nothing will stop that from happening, not therapy or the right food or clothes or money or sex or work. cool is cool but cool is also dead, adult and dispirited. I am a fucking loser. I am so cringe it hurts to look at me too closely. I cannot tell you how much better life can get once you stop caring about the shit that makes you feel stupid small and sick. look at me. I’m me, internally eternally just about seventeen. I have never gotten over anything that has ever happened to me and I never will. I’m racing toward real adulthood which i've always pegged to be the scarily disgusting 25 years landmark and I’m not yet bored. I’ve somehow slipped past the gatekeepers, still figure out how. but I know I made it this far by doing exactly what I want.

anyway. I keep finding gems in the past few years’ notebooks. I have to ignore the character names because they’ve changed so much, focus instead on the relationships, the dynamics. nothing feels as good as when this all makes sense. on the best days it can feel as though some part of my brain has known the path while another part of my brain has not. maybe that’s the reward of trusting the process, trusting myself. for example, I’ve used “arson” as a character name for the past year and then realized last week that it’s part of an anagram for [redacted]. I knew. I have to believe that I knew. do you believe me when I say I have the ability to reach through time? not in the real world, of course, but in this one, the one I’m creating and that someday you will be able to visit, too. in the world I created, I have powers that don’t make sense. like how I can double back on myself. I can control everything. I wish everyone could know what it feels like to be this unconstrained. I’ll write more on this later, explain what I mean, but: I do think turning myself into a swarm made me better (see bee poems, sylvia plath). it made the freedom of movement easier to access. this book I’m writing would be a worse book if I’d written it coherently from the beginning, a dutiful little first draft passed in on time. fuck that. the truth is, any loss I’ve grieved over the past three years has been swallowed by a sense of growth. look at me, this bosch monster with its gaping black hole of a mouth. I eat and eat and eat.

<3,

a.m.p.

[dxsertrot]

I'm really starting to firmly believe I have adhd. At first I was cool with it being speculative, but it feels like it actually interferes with my life. Maybe I should get a professional diagnosis and consider Adderall. It's just hard for me to know because everyone thinks they have adhd nowadays. Sometimes I even wonder about the legitimacy of adhd being a thing (in terms of it being classified as a neurological problem) but it's becoming harder and harder to live with as my work becomes more specified and focused. It's really hard for me to focus and pay attention. I move so fast I overlook simple things. My brain has never worked the way I would like it to, when it seems so easy for everyone else. I've always been critiqued at work for moving too quickly and overlooking things because of that. And now I'm at a job where I cannot afford to be that way. I have always struggled badly with instructions and now I have a job where all I do is follow very specific instructions. Because if I don't I can literally kill people. I'm only in training and I know this is all so new to me, but this isn't a new problem. It's a problem I've always been aware of but never knew how to fix. It's benefited me tremendously in many ways, to be so quick and always move with purpose and to never quite switch off, but now I NEED to be able to have an off switch to sit down and slow everything to break down what exactly I need to do. I cannot think of an instance where I've successfully done that. I get so frustrated with myself and feel so so stupid. I try eating really good, attempt to get good sleep, and try to engage in more thoughtful activities outside of work like reading and writing. I do all this in hopes it will fix my brain and I will be able to be the way that I want. I can't be organized for shit, never have been. Even when I try to be. Shit gets out of control so fast and I can't ever pinpoint how it got like that. I always thought adhd wasn't something I had because it doesn't seem to reflect as much outside of work and social interactions. I have no problem relaxing when I get home, I'm honestly anything but hyperactive when I'm home. I try to be. Plus there's the factor of phones absolutely destroying attention spans. But it's never just been my attention span. Sometimes I can pay really good attention. But more often than not I have to fuck up to understand something because instructions and verbal teaching isn't enough. And nobody ever noticed it in me as a kid. Sure I fidgeted but I was always glued to me seat, and I never distrusted class. I was horrifically shy and constantly lost in the classroom. But my last two years of school I wasn't! I did super well and paid really good attention in all my classes. Which is why it's so hard for me to grapple with why I'm having this problem again. Maybe because it's been a few years? I don't know. And then I'm scared that I will get an adhd diagnoses and be prescribed Adderall and have the same problems. I just feel like a dummy and everyone expects me to be so much more organized and detailed than I am because I'm a girl or some stupid shit. There's so many memories I have growing up and even of the past few years that make things make so much more sense with the context of having adhd, but what if I don't have it? Am I just stupid? A hopeless cause? I want to do better and be better and I genuinely try so hard and never get it right. And I feel people that I look up to judge me and be disappointed in me because of it. But I have no defense. I've got no diagnosis and I don't know how much it would cost to get one. I think I need to start doing serious research into getting one. I'm just getting so frustrated with myself and maybe it will help me be nicer to myself if I know it's not my fault and that there's ways of living with it and be successful at the things I want to be successful at. Because as it stands I can only be good at mindless work until I figure out how to get my shit organized, follow instructions, and slow down.

[villanevehaus]

tme anon here with my thoughts on Raw. This is going to be way too many notes despite the fact I've actually cut this down to about 1/3 what I wrote originally. I am so sorry, but...

I fucking loved this movie! I watched it twice back-to-back because reasons. Here are toooo many notes:

walking on the side of the road with an overcast sky is giving me donnie darko vib—the fuck! okay, it’s that kind of movie. good dive though, i give her 8/10 for form.

wait, what. oooh they’re speaking french. my silly ass forgot this is a french film. brb guys.

SUBTITLES—there we go, much better

this is not what it was like when i went to college. i mean, a kid did die from hazing, but still

is this…what having a sibling is like? 

oooh specimen lab. sidebar: i have always wanted to see the Mütter Museum 

Carrie’d.

Don’t scratch. Don’t scraaaatch. BUDDY IMPULSE CONTROL STOP IT.

HORSE! This shot is the tits. The sound, the music, the running. 

Hahaha, I hope you wear the dress over the sweatshirt just like that, babygirl, you look ah-mazing.

Vegetarian options be like mashed potatoes and steamed carrot coins. 

WHY DID YOU GRAB IT WITH YOUR BARE HANDS THOUGH, THERE WERE TONGS.

WHY ARE YOU BITING INTO THE FUCKING MIDDLE OF YOUR FUCKING SHAWARMA?

Oh my god, this is like the clown handkerchief trick but for trichophagia. 

i’m an only child, i really, really, really do not understand this peeing sister scene. 

SISTERS CANNOT POSSIBLY DO THIS. (waxing)

Wow, those are sharp scissors. 

How drunk are you that you’re letting the dog lick your sister’s finger stub. Like, sure, eat her finger, but stop the bleeding and keep the dog away. You two are in vet school, you know about surgery and infections and shit. What is this.

She is eating the finger like how Tom Hanks eats the baby corn in Big. HAHAHAHA

I am that old guy with dentures! I laughed so fucking hard at this, I would be exactly this man in the film. 

I have yet to watch Cronenberg’s Crash (1996), but this is just screaming Crash at me right now.

I know this isn’t the focus of this soccer scene, but it cracks me up when men rub their faces together to express aggression. 

This is some very Tina Belcher-quality dancing in front of this mirror.  

Trainspotting vibes. Pretty soon the baby from Yellowjackets is gonna crawl across her ceiling. That’s how this works, right?

Is your sister hitting you with a sock full of coins? Of all the things in this movie, the sound and screaming here is the one making me flinch. 

She blue herself. 

THERE IS A whole ass chunk missing outta his lip. That is beautiful. 

I can see a lot of this in TME, I feel like I’ve been let in on a bunch of little inside jokes, love it.

Hahaha, having sex with her is like trying to catch a fucking snake before it strikes. 

Oooooh, man. That bite, though. Oooof.

The shot at the party that tracks through the kissing couple up to her deliriously horny face sitting against the wall? Amazing. 

How much cadaver did you eat, bro?

BoyfIghts: Sisters edition. (how many AD jokes can I maaaake)

You should probably have locked that door.

(3 minutes later) Yep, shoulda locked it.

I love that you can see blood on the sheets right by her head before she figures it out.

Chekhov’s ski pole. 

Reflection mirroring with the mother YASSSSS

Love wins.

<3<3<3

GOES CRAZY INSANE BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK

the horse shot!!! yes!!!

I KNOW SHE JUST PUTS THAT GREASY ASS BURGER IN HER POCKET LIKE GIRL THERE ARE TONGS RIGHT THERE

i am also an only child and was like??? is this normal?? and my femme who has sisters says it is NOT!!! i need to convince people who have siblings to watch it

i also have yet to see crash 1996 i saw an edit of it to a NIN song and was like uh oh i can feel a crash 1996 and titane double feature approaching

i love the AD references i love AD

chekov's ski pole

the end the end the end the end WAWAWA

IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT it changes my brain chemistry im sure of it