#but here's the kicker you fucking idiot

[rthwrms]

getting real heated about the art vs craft debate (cause its fucking stupid) it's all art. it's all craft. i think white men should be shot for sayign otherwise

[letsgetrowdy43]

we need some Luke angst

His biggest regret ❧

Luke Hughes x childhood best friend… but make it angsty

Part two!!

Luke is in his freshman year of university, and his best friend Y/n also attends Umich with him, she is basically an honorary Hughes.

He meets this new girl from one of the sororities affiliated with the hockey team, thinks she’s amazing and is head over heels for her. She’s not a fan of Y/n whatsoever, so she’s slowly wedging herself in between Luke and his best friend.

Here is the kicker, Y/n is in love with Luke, always has been and probably always will be. She just wishes he would open his eyes for once and see how bad she has it for him.

They were practically raised together so she gets that he sees her as family, but there had been a few drunken nights of none platonic moments that gave her a little hope.

Summer rolls around, and y/n is devastated, Luke has not talked to her in a little over a month, and didn’t invite her to the lake housd.

Quinn and Ellen are making lunches one day and it all felt so wrong, there is no summer without y/n. So the two eldest sons both hop in Ellen’s car and kidnap Y/n from her house and drag her to the lake house. “You’re not with Luke?” “He didn’t invite me,” she sighed as Jack rummaged around her closet for clothes to pack, forcing her to get in the car. “You don’t need an invite Y/n/n, you’re family,” Jack said softly as he tackled her in a hug. “Your brother’s girlfriend has a distaste for me, so I decided it probably not best I’m there” Both the boys gave her a knowing look at that comment.

Quinn and Jack had always known about her liking for Luke, they were also pretty sure Luke reciprocated the feelings, but he’s an idiot when it came to love. They wanted to interfere a few times but decided it was probably best to let them figure it out on their own.

Anyways! Back at the Lake house, Luke is shell shocked the moment Quinn piggybacks a bathing suit clad y/n down the stairs and onto the boat with Jack trailing behind them.

He was very much jealous, but he was confused by what exactly making him jealous. He couldn't decide if he was pissed that his best friend was now best friends with his brothers rather than him, or that he was jealousy was deeper than that, that he was missing a summer full of Y/n and her smiles and her pretty bathing suits, and perfect everything.

So he decided he was just jealous of her and his brother's friendship.

Luke’s girlfriend is not happy at all that Y/n has shown up, when the two of them are in a room together people swear the air gets cold and joy is drained from the world, so they keep a distance.

That’s up until Trevor makes an appearance, the girlfriend had taken a liking to him right away. Something about it threw both Quinn and Y/n off, the two of them keeping a close eye on her advances as Trevor repeatedly brushed her off.

Luke was at a breaking point, he was less paying attention to his girlfriend who was making it painfully obvious that she was sneaking around behind his back, and more to his brother and best friend who had grown closer and closer as the days went on.

Until he finally snapped, “are you fucking Quinn?”

Y/n nearly spat her cooler out of her mouth as she stared wide-eyed at the boy, “Ew no?” “Don’t lie!” “I’m not Luke! Quinn is my brother, and even if we are you are my best friend, you have no room to dictate who I sleep with” she scoffed, “at this point, you're barely my friend!”

“I didn’t even do anything!” “You did so much, and you don’t even care to notice the hurt you cause, fuck Luke it baffles me to think that I loved you, let alone the fact that we were best friends!”

Loved?

“Don’t talk to me for my last night here, I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow morning,” she smiled before grabbing a cooler and slamming the back door shut

-

-

-

[cyrusclouds]

dsaf headcanons!!,!

i know literally nobody asked and no one cares, but i'm going to be putting my dayshift at freddy's headcanons here for the soul. this'll definitely get edited fairly frequently sooo!! anywayz here we go :3 (angst warning for some of these??)

jack has frequent sleep paralysis!! the kicker to this is that he THINKS he has a sleep paralysis demon, but really, dave just breaks into his house through his bedroom window every night and stares at him while he's asleep. he refuses to break character whenever he wakes up because "maybe he won't see me" (he definitely sees you, dave)

while henry was alive, dave picked up the habit of shutting up and shutting down whenever henry got too annoyed. problem with that is that jack playfully presents as annoyed all the time to mess around, and dave takes it very seriously, so they get into a bad cycle of jack acting annoyed and dave shutting down for no reason *constantly* (dysfunctional doomed yaoi core!!!)

henry is a tea drinker, not a coffee drinker. he specifically drinks black tea without any add-ins (basically the same as drinking straight black coffee for my coffee drinkers out there) (also dave eats the fucking tea leaves when henry is done with the bags)

harry still gets war flashbacks fairly frequently and is set off decently easily. when this does happen, rebecca is literally always there to comfort him and stays with him until he's calm again (straight couple goals)

whenever henry was seeping into jack's mind (legacy jack core), dave could very distinctly tell. one of the worst instances of this would have been a time where jack slipped up and called dave 'william', which would have caused a very quick panic that confused the *shit* out of jack (homeboy does not know what he did)

!!!NOT MY HEADCANON!!!! belongs to orcatstra :]!!! but dave and jack totally got drunk as shit in vegas one time and got married. no if's and's or but's, it happened, canon, i was the fly on directdogman's wall when he made dsaf.

jack reminds dave a lot of henry (unfortunately), which has caused dave to be very easily set off by things that henry used to do or say to him if jack does or says something similar. jack has no idea why every single time it happens, but he always comforts him until he calms down anyways :)

henry has a habit of spinning things like pens and pencils in his fingers while he writes, but sometimes this expands to wrenches and actual tools while he's working on his creations. yes i think henry is strong as a bitch, how else is he carrying those literal hunks of metal

I THINK HENRY PROBABLY HAS OTHER LOST TAPES OUT THERE RAAHHHH they're just probably less lore important LMFAO

henry would be the type to hate basically every animal, but he would (begrudgingly) feed stray cats from time to time if nobody was around (god forbid he ever look weak in front of people)

henry had a god awful sleep schedule. he would stay up until around 2-3am every morning at the least working on his creations, sometimes taking it as far as full days if he was focused enough. it was very concerning to dave (who does not sleep), and he would loom outside of his office a lot listening in case he fell asleep. it wasn't terribly common, but sometimes he would, in which case dave would break in and move him to the little chair he had in there

henry was definitely the kind of guy to straight up call people an idiot or dumbass, and then go on a long ramble about exactly what they were wrong about and how wrong they were. expanding on this headcanon, i think henry would have been a major rambler about things he was passionate about, especially towards dave (since that's like the only person he was around in his later life)

henry was never the kind to take breaks. no matter what, he always kept working. but, he did allow himself one once because his physical health was severely deteriorating, and he spent most of the day reading anyways LMFAO, just in a more comfortable environment. he would have loved reading, dead convinced.

[nightmaresmakeme]

Sirius was sitting alone on the Astronomy Tower with a bottle of fire whiskey, contemplating life and just how much it sucked. He and Remus had broken up about a week before and things were just so awkward now. Even in the group. James was being strange and distant with everyone, Remus was just being weird now, and Peter just seemed so on edge and anxious. Sirius hated it and he hated feeling like it was his fault. What was he supposed to do if he didn't feel like he loves Remus anymore? Led him on? He had done the right thing this time, so why did it suck so bad?

"Goddamnit not you" a snarky voice from behind him said. Sirius spun around and standing there was fucking Snape. The last person he wanted to see.

"Fuck off, cant you see I'm drowning my sorrows alone right now?" Sirius snapped back.

"I would but I came up here to drown my own sorrows, and you're already dead from what I can see so you should just go back to your stupid friends and get pissed with them" Snape responded with a glare as Sirius noticed the familiar bottle that Snape had in his hand.

Sirius laughed bitterly for a moment, "That's why I'm up here dumbass, those are the sorrows I'm fucking drowning. I'm too tired to fight you tonight so just sit down and drink or something. It sucks drinking alone and someone you hate is better than no one at all." Sirius shrugged. Snape was the last person he wanted around but also he might be the only one who would fucking sit here with him tonight.

Snape stood there for a moment before muttering and sitting down in the general area of where Sirius was but not very close to him at all. "If I must" Snape said with a long suffering sigh.

As the night went on, both of them got more drunk and began to actually talk to each other in a way. Venting about their problems and friends and grades. Sirius never thought that he would talk to Snape and not hate every second. They insulted each other of course but it lacked the normal sober heat and hatred. And Sirius hated the way that the alcohol made Snape's eyes shine more and made him not look so greasy.

"You said that the answer was quill feathers!! What idiot thinks that! Clearly you have no brain and your head is just full of your stupid frizzy hair!"

"As if you have any room to talk about my hair! Besides, I was joking in class about the quill feathers, everyone knows that."

"what about my hair?"

"uh you know it's so greasy and long that it looks like someone spilled pitch black ink all over your head and you somehow made that fucking work which is the real kicker-"

"what?"

Sirius shut his mouth quickly. What the fuck had he been saying? He had drunk too much and it was getting way too late. Yea that's all. Yea.

"It was nothing don't worry about it. I'm just drunk."

"No, I don't think I will. Because it just sounded like you find me attractive in some way and I'm not going to let you gloss over that."

"uh- you- I'm gay! I'm gay, am I not allowed to find blokes attractive? Are you homophobic??"

"I'm not homophobic!! I'm bisexual! I'm sorry I didn't expect the guy who fucking bullied me for years to find me attractive!"

"Yeah, well, I didn't expect it either ok?! I'm sure it shocked both of us! I can't help it if I think that your eyes look like obsidian in the moonlight! I can't-"

Sirius dropped his head in his hands and groaned lowly. He was never going to live this down ever. Snape would hold this over him forever.

"You have to be the biggest idiot in this whole school. I hate you. I hate you so much. You are the reason why I regret waking up every morning."

Sirius raises his head to see that Snape had gotten very close to him. He was staring directly into his eyes, both gazes intense yet Sirius' face was flushed.

"And I hate you too. It doesn't matter if I think your fit, I still hate you and your snarky attitude."

Snape grabbed Sirius' shirt sleeve and narrowed his eyes.

"I'm glad we can agree on something."

Then Snape pulled him closer, hesitating just before their lips touched, as if to give him time to push him off, and yet Sirius didn't. He couldn't explain it but he wanted whatever was about to happen. He reached out and grabbed Snape's shirt in return and pulled him closer to close the gap.

(lemme know if you want the continuance?? Smut?? No?? I'm joking?? Am I?? Who knows)

[whoiwanttoday]

At some point during the pandemic I suddenly couldn't really do pizza anymore, or ice cream. This happens as you get older, suddenly you can't do foods you used to be able to and the ice cream hurts but the pizza is not as big a loss for me as the rest of the world would think it is. Dairy just doesn't agree with me anymore but i am reluctant to say I am lactose intolerant because I haven't been tested. When I brought it up to my doctor he said, "Does not eating dairy help?" I said yes and he said, "Well, keep doing that". This was, of course, deeply unsatisfying because I could have fucking done that, I really wanted a test to tell me that yes, I am now lactose intollerant and also a medical marvel in some way. I am not asking for a parade, though that would be nice, but something other than what a quick google could have told me. Anyway, this leads to why I feel gross this weekend, I mean besides the usual reasons. The extra reason. I was off on Friday and my brain hates me in many ways and one of the ways is the dipshit way in which it fools me into doing dumb shit. At some point on Friday I thought, "I should get a pizza". The local place had their special pizza, an Elote Pizza, celebrating Duke's Hot Tomato Summer and I mean, it's a limited time and has things I like so I was like, I should get a pizza. And part of me knew it was a bad idea but my brain was like, "It's a day off, it's fine". In the moment, that made total sense to me. I am off today, thus dietary restrictions don't apply. Because my brain is a fucking idiot and the next day as I felt awful it was like, "Why would having a day off make this ok?" The real kicker is I am not that into pizza. It's fine. I had the same pizza experience I always do, where I have a slice, then a second one, then I am like, "Well, that's enough pizza for 6 months, what am I supposed to do with the rest of this because I am now tired of pizza and do not want to eat it".

Which brings us to Janhvi Kapoor, who I have posted once before and gave you guys quite the lesson on what a Kapoor is. You might wonder how she is related to Pizza and my crumbling physical body to match my broken brain and I am here to tell you the answer is that I chose to do all that dumb pizza related stuff this weekend AND I chose to post her, which is a remarkably good decision after a stream of bad decisions. Like Walt Whitman, I contain multitudes. I have no idea about Janhvi Kapoor's stance on pizza but I know she is attractive so here she is, I chose all pictures I like but because she's always nice to me I did choose one picture just for @kat-eleven. Today I want to fuck Janhvi Kapoor.

[cowlickers]

You know, I don’t think it can be understated that the dynamic between Billy and Mandy in the grim adventures of Billy and Mandy is very very interesting. on paper if you just look at the two characters, you see angry character who is somewhat a little bit evil and her idiot sidekick, but with Billy and Mandy it’s a bit different because we see how much Mandy literally does not give a fuck about anyone and so the fact that she puts up with an idiot like Billy for as long as she has is strange to me because she clearly must’ve value something about Billy that she doesn’t see in any other person, other than maybe grim. is it possible that she does season as an idiot to be a man manipulated sure sure but here’s the kicker everyone in this universe is some level of insane idiot that can be manipulated and I’m pretty sure they’re episodes she has done so. but here’s the thing it never last more than one episode Billy is the constant I’m not gonna say whether or not it is a healthy admiration, but there is some level of admiration there that Mandy sees Billy has some sort of potential if you will that she’s constantly willing to put up with his insane stupidity. could be his strength, his ability to always get back up no matter what, his incredible empathy despite being an idiot. In a weird way these two characters kind of completely each other in a Mandy, for being too intelligent to really relate to anyone else in Endsville, and Billy’s kindness despite the fact that Mandy shows Billy little to no kindness, his inability to read the room or know that Mandy is like an incredibly evil person is the reason why I think she keeps him around because obviously everyone else is terrified of her, but Billy is either stupid enough or fearless enough to even attempt to try and befriend her. I don’t care who you are, if you encounter a person like that you at the very least will be intrigued.

in light of Mandy‘s prickly personality it’s pretty clear to see that because of her constant brutal nature that it would be almost impossible for Mandy to make friends with anyone because even when Mandy is not being mean, she just has incredibly high standards. We’ve seen Mandy make a genuine effort to try to connect with other people, but for one reason or other due to their own little character quirk, she was like no I don’t like you, and that brutal honesty is the reason why, despite being the most feared person in her town she’s not the most respected. I don’t know how Billy and Mandy work but for whatever reason they work, and I just think that that is super important.

[eri3ne]

we could have been us

You idiot, we could’ve been us

We could have been us

But hadn’t they been? For centuries, millennia even, they had been well…them. Aziraphale and Crowley. Especially for the past two years they had been together all the time, spending nearly every waking moment side by side. And even before then, they’d just pop up into each other's lives whenever they wanted or needed. Crowley could hardly remember a time when he and Aziraphale hadn’t been there for one another.

And now, he was alone. His only friend in the world had left him. His angel had left him.

And the worst part? Aziraphale hadn’t just left. He tried to take Crowley with him, and tried to get him to come back. To work for Heaven. Why the hell would he want that? They had been happy in their own little corner of the world and together. An Angel and a Demon but neither lived quite by the rules and now Aziraphale uprooted both of their lives and became the Supreme Archangel of Heaven. Wasn’t that against everything they stood for. They were an Angel and a Demon on their own side. Not heaven not hell, just Aziraphale and Crowly. But now, Aziraphale was with heaven once again.

And he still went even after Crowley had poured his entire heart out. He finally worked up the nerve to kiss him. Why didn’t he stay? What did Crowley do wrong? What the fuck?

Now, Crowley found himself across the street from the bookshop looking at the spot where Aziraphale and Metatron had just gone up to Heaven. He didn’t even know what to do with himself. So he just stood there, leaning against the Bentley, trying to figure out what to do next.

He looked around, Maggie was behind the counter at the record store and Nina was serving people coffee, Muriel was outside the bookshop. How dare she? Everything was just as it had been last time he’d been out here. Everyone was acting like everything was the same, like everything was alright, like the world hadn’t just changed forever. Crowley’s best friend, the man that he loved, was gone and no one cared. No one even knew. No one would ever know.

So, Crowley got in his car, and he just went. Went where? Anywhere but here. Anywhere he wouldn’t have to think about Aziraphale and all he had lost in the last hour. So, he put his foot on the gas, the radio at max volume and turned whenever he got too used to the road he was on.

He was doing a pretty good job at drowning out his emotions, when a certain song came on. All You Need Is Love by The Beatles. Because of course it was, one of few “modern” songs Crowley could think of that Aziraphale truly enjoyed, and a song about love. As if it wasn't enough that the demon had lost his angel, the universe was playing some cruel joke on him. Which should be impossible, he designed the damned thing. And yet here he was.

This was simply the last straw. Crowley pulled off to the side of the road and broke down. He cried, he screamed, he hit shit. But the real kicker is, Crowley cried. It was the first time in a while that he let himself have a good and proper cry. And it had been even longer since Aziraphale wasn't there to help him through it. He wasn't sure how long he had been there, it felt like something in between a few seconds and a few hours. But Crowley found himself curled up in a ball in his passenger seat, fresh out of tears to cry, shaking, and struggling to breath.

It was moments like these when Crowley wished he could die. He wished he could stop feeling. Particularly this feeling, he wasn’t quite sure what to call it, but it was just about the worst thing Crowley ever felt. And you would think that by now, Crowley would know how to not feel like this, or at least to make it not so bad. But he had always had Aziraphale to help him to make him feel better and keep breathing. Now though, he was all on his own, and he had no idea what to do. So he sat there in his passenger seat for at least an hour, doing all he could to get his breath back to a usual pattern and just generally calm himself back down.

Soon enough he was back on the road, his breath still a little shaky and his body still a little weak.

Crowley had absolutely no clue where he was going until he got there. The only place that really brought him comfort, but also the very place he was trying to get away from. He found himself right in front of the book shop five hours later. Not entirely trusting himself to drive much more, Crowley walked across the street and into Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death. He went straight to a table, not wanting to have to deal with people. But almost immediately, and it truly seemed as though she could read his thoughts and was trying to spite him, Nina showed up at his table.

“No.” he said before she got the chance to ask what he wanted, or God Forbid a much noisier question.

“What can I get you, Sir.”

“I already said no.” he felt like he was about to snap.

“Well then, I hate to break it to ya mister, but if you're not gonna have a coffee… you’re gonna have to leave,” she said, as sweet as she could. But Crowley didn’t reply. “Look,” she was no longer attempting to sweet talk him into listening. She knew it wouldn’t work. “I don’t know why you're moping around in a corner all alone. But I’ve got paying customers that could be drinking coffee they paid for at this table, which as I’m sure you're aware, is not what’s happening at this table.”

And at this point, Crowley is getting pissed. But he decides it’s best just to order a coffee. “Black coffee, hot.” He mutters, almost whispering.

“What was that?” Nina teases.

“Oh you heard me!” Crowley hisses. Nina leaves to get his and the other patrons orders. And Crowley is left alone with his thoughts, yet again.

Even in the bustling coffee shop, Crowley feels utterly alone. He truly had no place to go. In the past, when he was unable to return to hell, he had slept in his car in the nights and visited Aziraphale in the bookshop during the days. But now, he still could not return to hell and there was no one he might visit.

And it was at this moment that Crowley realized he doesn’t have any friends. He had no one. He was a demon all alone in the world, just as he should have been. And he had absolutely no clue how to cope with it.

And oh, here he goes again.

He’s not crying this time.

Or at least he doesn’t think he is.

But he can’t quite breathe properly.

And the walls are closing in on him.

And-

“Here you are,” and here Nina was, coffee in hand. Breaking Crowley out of a spiral. “Hot black coffee.” she smiles.

“Thanks,” Crowley replied. He wasn’t sure what else to say, but Nina stayed there, just looking at him. So he looked straight back at her.

“So where’s your f-” She started.

“No.” Crowley snapped, cutting her off.

“Yes, actually. Where is your friend?” Now, Nina isn’t usually one to pry, but this topic was of particular interest to her. These two men had meddled in her love life, so she felt it was only fair for her to do the same to them.

“Gone.” he whispered. And this time, Nina truly could not hear him.

“What was that?” She tried to sound as kind as possible. Which was…not her strong suit, but this guy seemed like he needed some kindness right about now.

“He’s gone.” Crowley said again, this time a little louder, and trying a little harder to hold back the tears that were ever so persistently forming in the corners of his eyes. And this time Nina doesn’t respond. Crowley is looking down at his table so he thinks she might have left. That is, of course, until he feels her slide into the seat next to him, and place a hand on his shoulder.

“I am so, so sorry.” she tells him softly. Crowley turns his head to face her but he still can't meet her eyes. And only now, when he’s finally realized that he’s not all alone, he lets the tears come. And come they do, it's like the floodgates have opened. And Crowley just sits there, with a near stranger. Crying and being comforted.

Maybe Crowley lost the love of his life.

But, maybe that doesn’t mean that the world has to end.

Sure, he’s gonna be sad, and pissed off, and all those other negative feelings about it. But he supposed that those feelings just have to happen, because if he tries to stop them, every day could be just as bad as today was. And, while Crowley doesn’t know what's next, the world will keep on turning. No matter how bad he wishes it would stop.

In the middle of Crowley's stream of thoughts, Nina has gotten up from where she was sitting next to him and she says, “Welp, I’ve got to get back to working. But, if you need anything, anything at all, I’m here. Just come and get me and I’ll do all I can.” She squeezes Crowley's shoulder, and heads off.

We could have been us. Crowley thinks. We could have been us, but you left me, to do God knows what up in Heaven.

And maybe they would have the chance to be “them” again. After whatever Aziraphale was doing up there was over and done with. If he ever decided to come back to Earth, Crowley would be there waiting for him. Willing and able to do whatever Aziraphale wanted. Barring, of course, going with him to Heaven.

But until then, if “then” ever comes, Crowley will just have to make it to the next day. And then the next and the next. He’ll try to get on with life. But he knew that hurt he felt when Aziraphale left, would never entirely go away.

[seecarrun]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love!

Aww this is so fun! Let’s see here… we’ll do just my It/reddie fics for this one, but if anyone wants a pokemon list, let me know!

1. Pants on Fire - The ‘Richie ends up in a Liar Liar situation’ fic. This one is still my favorite. So much fun to write!

"My name is Richard Tozier," he said to his reflection. Easy. So far, so good. "I was born on March seventh, nineteen seventy-six." Also good. Nice. Okay, now for the kicker... "I am six foot fff–" He blinked. The words stuck awkwardly in his throat. "I am six foot ffff–!" He stared into his eyes through the mirror as he watched them fill with dread.

"I am six foot ffff–ucking two!" he cried. In his reflection, his eyes widened comically. Oh, this was bad. Something was wrong, something was so, so wrong.

2. Turning and Returning - Richie and Eddie get paired with each other during a middle school dancing PE unit. :’)

Ben had gotten the idea in his head that the ballroom dances are like, the most romantic or whatever; so hopefully if Richie has to watch someone fucking waltzing elegantly around with Eddie all week, it'll—

"Kaspbrak, Tozier. You two."

Richie blinks, snapping out of his head. "Huh? Us two what?" he asks.

Coach Black looks up from his clipboard, unimpressed, and uses his pen to point between Richie and Eddie. "You two are partners," he clarifies casually, like he isn't completely upending Richie's entire fucking life. Fuck.

3. Cooking Up Trouble - Richie gives Eddie cooking lessons to help him survive after his divorce. This one has pretty artwork, too!

Richie, for whatever reason, was more than willing to drop everything and fly out to New York that very weekend, despite Eddie's insistence that it really, really wasn't necessary.

"It's just a cooking lesson, Rich," he urged, exasperated yet fond. "Easily completed over the phone."

"Not the way I do it, Eds," Richie said with a grin and a wink over FaceTime. "The Richie Tozier culinary experience is hands-on only, baby."

4. A Gentle Nudge - Bev and Eddie bonding!

His eyes were still big, even bigger than usual, and the leg she wasn't touching bounced nervously. "I'm not in love with you," he repeated, finally looking over at Bev. "I've never been in love with you."

"Wow, kick a girl while she's down," she quipped.

Eddie rolled his eyes and snorted. "Oh, shut up," he snapped. "Focus, Bev. I'm having a revelation, here."

5. Hung Up on You - Short and sweet. Middle age idiots acting like middle schoolers.

A few of the Losers make delighted and wistful noises at the idea, to Eddie's continued mortification, and before he knows it, his phone is being thrust into his hands, and six pairs of eyes are staring him down.

He blinks up at them stupidly. "He's—He's at a party!" he cries. "He's not even gonna answer!"

"He will if it's you." Mike grins. Eddie hates that he knows he's right.

[imzsuzsis-blog]

"Second place again... I hate this whole thing."

"Lando, since you've been coughing, not so much, but we're scared of girls inside."

“Shut up!!! You know how shitty it was when I was out, sometimes one kicker, sometimes the other. Because they were really bothered by the loud noise my car made."

I sat and coughed on my cell phone to see what the news was about me.

"They're starting to screw me up again!!! What the fuck are they talking about, Martin's girlfriend? Huh? I only get a fucking jacket out of my closet because it was windy.”

I grimaced and hit the table with my palm, and yes, you felt that too, it was very embarrassing.

"No, stop it, it's embarrassing, please."

I pursed my lips, stood up and started to support the wall and caressed my growing belly to finally calm down.

"Girls, don't worry, no more loud noises, the day is over."

I looked down and inside I knew I shouldn't be here, I should be somewhere else, but not here, because this belly is already too big to sit in a car, but there is a big trial, Pato can't be here and we don't know how long I will compete.

"Pato, you have to live there."

I muttered sadly to myself and looked at Loki, who was talking to the object of my deception, Oscar. I would have liked to have gone there, but I froze at the sight because I knew I was committing a crime by cheating on Loki, with Oscar, and all this was due to the fact that I was kidnapped.

I was sitting next to Lando in the car, we were late again as usual, the formula 3 will soon be on the track, we're fucking late, Pato wrote that he's already in Vegas at the airport hotel if there's a problem, he'll be there in Silverstone with his sister if he can.

"Lando, is everything okay?"

"Not really... My throat hurts so bad I can't even swallow a cup of tea."

He said very sad and with a cup of tea in his hand.

"Relax, Pato wrote somewhere in Vegas, he's in an airport hotel, he'll come as he can."

"Calm down, calm down... Don't say shit... It's like Bia sitting in my place, you bastard."

"Deep air Lando, think about it, you picked it up somewhere and now your throat hurts. It could be vocal chorditis, I had it a few years ago."

"If it was, I wouldn't be able to speak, stupid."

"tonsillitis?"

"Maybe, but if it's more serious, I'd take my tonsils out, you fucker."

He got angry next to me and then ran away with a plastic cup of tea and drank it while doing so. In his eyes, I've become the rotting scumbag he can beat on the track today, both in the sprint and the time trial.

"Ahh, hello, are you Loki?"

I turned around and a completely different guy than Lando was standing in front of me.

,,Yes me... Ohh You are Oliver's brother..."

,,I am interested..."

,,No, he is not pregnant by me, but by Ollie Bearman"

,,Thanks, but..."

,,Ah...According to my last information, Magui is currently in Portugal. "

"It's not her, the little bitch doesn't even excite us, I'm happy for her if she's hung up on the family and doesn't want to get on them and other celebrities, the money-seeking bitch."

"Is it the (cold) Influenza?"

"No, why is he dating a guy who is even older than him, who isn't even famous yet?"

“ It doesn't bother me, but the media, as I see it, does... “

“That my younger brother is not dating a celebrity..."

I looked at my cell phone, which was full of it. That Lando Norris is not dating a model, social media, singer, athlete or actor. But with someone whose occupation is mundane and earns little in comparison. I put my phone down and hugged Oliver with tears in my eyes because everyone was a jerk to us, I love being a teacher and I wouldn't leave my job for any money. Not even when they write about us.

"Loki, he's my brother... Everything... I'm still talking about the Spanish Grand Prix and last week... Fuck you..."

I held my mouth and cried. Idiot teens record my every fucking move and put it on fucking TikTok without my permission. I've reported and banned several such fucking accounts there. Due to invasion of privacy and harassment. But unfortunately, most fake profiles and they are powerless against it. As with Insta, I don't dare leave the house anymore, even if Amanda strongly recommends it to me.

"Lando, Lando, I have already reported and banned such things, not only on TikTok. But Insta is also, and yes, most of the fake profiles are from somewhere in Africa. Or from parts of America who just want to parasitize or abuse your name. Because they know if you don't have ASD and they love to take advantage of that."

——————————————-

The reality

Lando, snoring and for some reason in his nightgown, crossed his arms and slept soundly, I couldn't get it together and I was dreaming wild things again. I took his arm off me, got up and went to the window and yawned and looked out, but I couldn't see anything except the dark sky and the constellations. I started sipping my water, this stupid dream prepared me for him and Oscar to fight over a competition, stupidity. Lando also got up and blinked at me, he couldn't speak, not only his team doctor and the pilots' doctor told him, but also in the hospital. He has vocal chorditis, but unfortunately he is forced to speak because his profession has to somehow communicate with the press.

"My dear, don't speak, you know you need to rest your vocal cords."

I went back to him unfortunately, he was still coughing as bad as before, he was taking the medicines prescribed by him, which they said a pregnant man could take, but it was of no use to him.

"Would gargling be good?"

I kissed his forehead and felt that his stupid fever was not going away.

"Siri, Amanda!"

I told him in despair, afraid that it was a big problem.

"hospital, Loki, you two may have done everything, but how dangerous was it for the girls..."

I couldn't believe it, we touched our foreheads too, and he too burst into tears when he heard the word hospital. Until now, we only used homemade prakits so that the girls would be well and survive the whole nine months, but not now. He caressed my face while crying and shaking his head he coughed into his other forearm, much uglier than before.

"I have viral pneumonia and I was expecting the news."

I bit my lip, I think it was like that for Loki, how could he have told him that I have Covid again.

"Loki, there's no problem working on it so that you can... Sorry... compete, if my brother isn't here, they'll sit here instead of me, and at the next grand prix... Sorry... Pato will go instead."

"Lando, this is bullshit. Oliver is a simulator racer, they will just find someone who can take your place while you will be a guest of a nearby hospital from tonight."

He hugged me and showed me the ugliest cough in the world and looked down.

"Next time... I'm sorry... But Bia is there."

I saw that it was going to be a gas, he closed his eyes, opened them and passed out.

[dreamersbcll]

“Tinder”

——————-

“You look beautiful, Tara”.

Her sister blushed, twirling in her dress. “Thanks, Sam. I think blue is my color,”.

Sam smiled tightly, trying to hide her annoyance. Tara was going out on a dinner date with this douchey frat boy she matched on Tinder. And it was safe to say Sam wasn’t a fan.

For the last two days, Sam had been following the boy. His name was Ryder, the youngest child trying to get a finance degree. She had taken off two days of work to watch this boy be a raging misogynist in class and racist with his friends.

He wasn’t good enough for Tara. Nowhere near it. And Sam wouldn’t allow this fledgling romance to continue past date number one.

But Mindy wasn’t on the same page with Sam. Nowhere near. The three girls went dress shopping four days ago to find Tara's new clothes. She had helped her baby sister buy three different options. And today was the day Tara was going on the date, so the three girls gathered and voted on the best one for Tara.

Sam did her best to act excited, but Mindy was ecstatic for Tara. The girl had even gone as far as to give Tara money for the date. It blew Sam’s mind that she was the only one against this boy.

As Tara headed to the bathroom to work on her hair, Sam turned to Mindy, fuming a bit.

“What the hell is wrong with you? This date is a bad idea. You’re not stupid, Min,” she hissed, staring daggers at the girl.

Mindy rolled her eyes back, placing a hand on Sam’s. “Sam, do I look like a fucking idiot? Of course, this is a bad idea. We can’t let this happen!”

Taken aback, Sam blinked in confusion. “Uh, what?”

Standing up, Mindy started pacing, signaling that she was about to monologue. “Okay, obviously this is a bad idea, we know this. But we also know that if I come off too strong about being against this, Tara might go anyway. And we also know that if you come off too strong about being against this, Tara will 100% go anyway. But here’s the kicker- we can reverse-psychology her.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, signaling the girl to continue.

Mindy grins, her eyes ablaze. “We play chicken. We throw our full support into this horrible idea. And we force her to come back to us without her knowing that this was our idea!” she floats, pumping a fist into the air.

Frowning, Sam crossed her arms. “Okay. It sounds like lying, though. Tara and-”

“- and you both had agreed to be honest about everything. I know. We’ve been over this. Just trust me, okay? We can do this!” Mindy said, cutting Sam off in her tracks.

Rolling her eyes, Sam nodded. “Fine. Let's do it.”

——-

“Why did you let her go? Who knows what that creep wants from her? That’s my baby sister! I know I can’t control what she does and who she sees- but god, this was the wrong decision!”

Mindy looked back at Sam with shocked eyes. “I didn’t think she’d go through with it, Sam! I thought this would work, I did!” she stammered.

Sam threw her hands in the air in frustration. “This whole plan was based on what you thought? Fuck!”.

“Sam,” Mindy said quietly, her eyes wide.

Sam shook her head vigorously. “No, I’m going after her. This game of chicken might work for you, but it doesn’t work for me. That’s my little girl,” she spat, turning around to chase after her sister.

But instead, she was smothered by a hug. It was Tara, holding her around the waist.

“What’s this?” she asked, confused by the way Tara clung to her middle. She eventually loosened up, hugging Tara back. Her sister was shaking against her middle, crying a bit.

Finally, her sister spoke, her eyes filled with anger. “How could you do that? You’re supposed to protect me and prevent me from doing stupid things! What the hell was that!” she cursed pulling back from Sam.

Taken aback, Sam stared at her blankly. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. There was no script for this.

“I- I guess I thought we could reverse-psychology you. It’s Mindy’s idea,” Sam stuttered, pointing at the other girl.

Mindy threw her hands up in frustration. “Dude!”

Tara looked at the girl, shushing her. “Not now. I’m mad at Sam for not being mi guardiana. That’s your job!” she groaned, clearly frustrated.

Sam smiled, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Oh Mi Amor, if that’s what you wanted I would’ve done that. I just want to give you space to do your thing and make your own choices,” she softly said, tucking a lock of Tara’s hair behind her ear.

His sister’s eyes softened, gazing up at Sam with such bright adoration. “I just need you. I always just need you. You can make my choices any day. As long as I have you by my side,”.

Sam wrapped her sister in a hug, kissing her cheek. Tara hugged her back just as fiercely.

“Te quiero mi cielo,” she whispered, rocking the pair back and forth.

[cgspirl]

Miles Bron: Motherfucker Unlimited

(MAJOR SPOILERS FOR 'GLASS ONION' [2022])

I know that the whole point of 'Glass Onion' is that it isn't complex and that Miles Bron is a fucking idiot, but there is one thing about him that makes him fucking fascinating: his self-awareness about his own situation.

Now I know, I know: it's Miles Bron. The Elon Musk allegory of the fucking century. What on God's green earth am I fucking talking about?

All I ask is that you hear me out.

This is the original rant I went on, posted to Discord (similarly to my Antlers Holst post, which is still apparently a hit with the gays /posi):

[Image Alt descrptions available if the screenshots are too compressed to read]

Now, to expand on the original rant:

Come back to the scene between Bron and Blanc in the Onion where Bron talks about the bar itself, the Glass Onion (quoted below).

Bron: "Oh, Andi."

Blanc: "Yes, Andi."

Bron: "Andi used to tell me the truth. Nobody does that now. It's all just fake smiles and agendas and people wanting what they think they're owed. Hating you when you don't give it to them because that's what you're there for."

It's in this moment that Miles Bron solidifies his character to the audience: he is very aware of what his purpose is in this group of "Disruptors" - the benefactor. But here's the major kicker: he doesn't fucking want to be.

Helen describes later that no one in the original friend group liked Miles until things started happening for all of them: dreams thought to be long dead now beyond anything any of them could've fucking imagined.

Now, yes, Miles is a hypocrite: you could say his speech in the shadows to Blanc is very much hypocritcal because it's essentially a mirror to what happened to Andi: Miles taking Alpha from her because he felt he was owed the power to pump all the company's resources into Klear.

But, and for just a moment, consider: Miles is aware he's a hypocrite. Maybe logically he's a fucking idiot but I fully speculate that he is very aware of the fact that he is not Andi, no matter how much he fucking wants to be. He knows he's an idiot, but he plays so hard into the fallacy that he isn't that he just believes it now.

But somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knows. He knows that he can never be Andi, and that none of the Disruptors even fucking like him without Andi around.

And the best part? The funniest fucking part of this whole shebang?It's all his own fucking fault. It's his own fucking fault and all he's done is make it worse because he doesn't have the fucking capabilities to be original; to think of something genuinely complex that could possibly get him out of the hole he dug himself into because of his own hubris and selfishness.

And that is what makes him so fucking interesting: the emotional self-awareness of Miles Bron. Logically? Yes, he's a bumbling fucking idiot, an absolute moron. Emotionally? It's like willingly tangling yourself in a spider's web. He's horrible and terrible and I truly believe he's extremely aware of that fact, and just pretends that it's not like that at all. That he's beloved by all, but most of all by those he considers closest to him.

TL;DR: Miles Bron my fucking abhorrently belovedly beloathed <3

[liquorisce]

scarf girl & idiot boy

pairing: eren jaeger x mikasa ackerman

rating: t | read on ao3

summary: [Reincarnation AU. crackfic]

Eren is in his final year of high school. He's always been an imaginative kid but now his imagination won't seem to give him a break. As a result of intense flashbacks / dissociative episodes his therapist advises him to keep a journal, to get in touch with his emotions and let them all out.

Except it wasn't his imagination, these were his memories. Why doesn't anybody understand?!

…

“So, what about this girl?”

Right, Eren. What about this girl? As my mother asked me that, I was struck with this ridiculous urge to prattle on about how she had a scar on her right cheek, a mole right beneath that, and even though she usually kept her hair short, long hair was simply gorgeous on her. She was humanity’s strongest, and so fucking smart, she was incredible. She could do anything and excel at it; she was one of those people that you could trust with your life.

And how is it that despite not really knowing this girl, I knew so much about her? Fuck if I know. The only thing I did know, however: “I think she’s my wife. Sort of.”

Day 1 

Mom bought this notebook for me and told me I’m supposed to write in it every day. Journaling, she said. It’s good for you, Eren. It’ll help you sort out all those thoughts in your head. 

That’s what she called it. Thoughts in my head. That’s what she told the doctor the first time she brought me in. My son, you see, he’s a good kid. He’s got a lot of spirit. He’s very intelligent. But. And here was the kicker, there was always a but. He gets lost in his thoughts, sometimes. And then he doesn’t come out. Even if I shake him. I feel like he’s someplace else, you know. 

Well, yes, it turns out the good doctor did know. Or he had some theories, anyway. ADHD was the top favourite, it was an easy one for Mom and Dad to digest. Tons of kids have it. It was one of those disorders that parents could swallow because it didn’t mean their kid didn’t have potential. It was a better alternative than plain delusional, I suppose.

I’d heard it my whole damn life. 

Eren, you’re distracted. 

Eren where’d you go off to? 

Eren. 

Eren. 

Ereh. 

I had one of those short names that people liked to use like punctuation. But nobody said my name right. It’s a peculiar thing, but I was convinced my name wasn’t meant to be pronounced with the full N, it was meant to end on a faint sound, somewhat breathy, somewhat feminine…

Ugh. This is the problem. None of it feels right, because I already know what is right. I’ve experienced it before. It’s in my memories. But nobody understands that. They say I have an active imagination. When I was a kid apparently I had an imaginary friend, too. A blonde wimp named Armin who needed my help to deal with bullies. When I was younger I believed it when Mom gently broke it to me that he wasn’t real, but now I’m not sure anymore. Sometimes when I stand in a group of friends, his sparkling blue eyes and his golden bowl cut feel more real than the faces in front of me.

But this is all I’ve got to figure it out. It’s you and me, motherfucker. So go on and do your Tom Riddle thing where you make sense of things to me, because I’m dying to hear it. 

Day 3 

I forgot to write yesterday because I’m not really good at keeping up with a habit. Or writing for that matter. I’m okay at school essays and like, some short stories I wrote as a kid were decent, but I never really thought of making a hobby out of it. And writing about myself too, why would I do that? I have to spend enough time inside this head of mine feeling absolutely crazy and out of control, I don’t know how writing down what’s in my head is supposed to make it any better. 

But mom yelled at me to journal, so here I am. 

She’s pissy because I turned up today with godawful marks on my french test, ten out of forty scribbled in big red letters. In my defence, I only attempted the first thirteen questions, because my brain kind of froze up mid-test when I got these weird flashes of sitting in a classroom with wooden desks and a crazy brown-haired person with goggles on their head trying to teach us about human-eating monsters. It sounds wild to me even as I write it, but trust me that shit was real. They were big and red and butt-ugly and I’m convinced that I’ve repressed some particularly traumatic memories of them breaking people in half like Twix and popping them in their mouths. I think the feeling of watching something like that never goes away, no matter how many lives you lead. 

I’d like to imagine that if these really are my memories— because sure, I may be a visionary or whatever, but these visions were too clear— I was a badass hero leading the fight against these monsters, and eventually, my side won. Otherwise, what even was the point?  

Day 4

I keep thinking about those fucking monsters. Journalling is doing something to me. It’s making me think about these things more and more. How else do I explain the pit in my stomach that’s refused to go away ever since I finished last night’s journal entry? 

Why can’t I shake the feeling that I was so so wrong about something? What if I wasn’t the hero? Maybe I was just a massive fail and my dwindling grades are like, a mirror to the events of my past life or something.

Day 7 

Whatever, I know I didn’t journal for two days and my last entry was just a pathetic scribble but I needed some time off. My therapist said this was supposed to help me get in touch with emotions not stress me the fuck out and make me never want to confront them again. Anyway, I took the weekend off, and actually spent my time trying to clear my head in more effective ways. Like smoking weed with my friend Maks. 

Mom, if you’re reading this (I know you are, I saw you combing through my journal just yesterday, you’re so obvious) then please for the love of God, don’t get all weird and make passive-aggressive comments when you know already that I smoke. And don’t pretend that you don’t because you totally did. Why else would I eat that much? No teenage boy needs five helpings of your curry no matter how good it is, it’s because of the munchies. Now read further at your own risk, that’s all I’m saying.

So yeah, back to Maks. He always steals weed from his sister Laura, and wades straight into her bag without any concern for her privacy. I don’t know, but I always heard you aren’t meant to be rummaging in a girl’s bag (or anyone’s for that matter), so I just, like, stand outside and make polite conversation with her while he’s flicking her goods. 

I guess that sounds bad, but you get it. Laura’s pretty and to be honest, I think she’s kind of sweet on me. She’s always kinda blushy when I talk to her and there’s no need to be, she’s twenty years old and I know she’s had boyfriends before. But she always gives me way more attention than what her idiot brother’s friend deserves. I’ve thought about asking her out on a date, but it seemed like a lot of effort when all I really wanted to know was if she kisses nice. 

I thought about it a little more today when we were smoking with some of the other guys, on the rooftop of Peter’s part-time job. I couldn’t really discuss it with them openly because I didn’t think honesty was the best policy when it concerned getting into Maks’s sister’s pants, but I wish I could, because I was still a fucking virgin. I wanted to get laid and I think if I asked, Laura might say yes. I just didn’t know how. 

And then I thought about it some more when I came back home and sank into my bed, stoned as fuck. I undid my jeans and opened up pornhub and scrolled through a bunch of thumbnails that all looked so fucking similar. And then, weirdly, I just shut my phone off and stared at the ceiling. 

I think all the dilly-dallying about Laura stems from the fact that I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to fuck Laura. Maybe I was a virgin loser, but I was pretty certain I didn’t have… feelings for her. Like, she was nice and everything, but I didn’t like her. I know what it’s like to like somebody, I think. It’s crazy intense and kind of one-dimensional and a little bit like black hair and pink lips and a dark red scarf.(????)

What the fuck. Did I just write. Where did that even come from.

I’m done with this journalling thing, man. I’m out.  

Day 9 

I’m not happy about this, you know. I just want to be a normal teenage kid who jerks off to porn and maybe sleeps with his friend’s sister so he isn’t a virgin when he goes to college. That’s it. I have simple desires. 

LEAVE ME ALONE SCARF GIRL. 

Day 10

I can’t stop thinking about her. I wish I could think about the human-eating monsters again. At least that was morbidly fascinating. This just gives me a clawing, uncertain sensation in the pit of my stomach and doesn’t let up until my thoughts are filled with some Japanese girl with the prettiest eyes I have ever seen, and a body like I hadn’t even thought of fantasizing about. It’s crazy, I feel obsessed with somebody I haven’t even met. And I know this for sure because I went through all the class photos and I know nobody who looks like that. 

Maybe I should talk to the doc again. I’m definitely delusional. 

Day 11

I saw the doc again. He isn’t convinced that I’m having delusions despite my twenty-minute spiel about the biology of ugly monsters I keep dreaming of. I explained in great detail that they were weird as hell: They had this weird human anatomy but none of the fun bits, and they kept eating humans but they couldn’t digest them for some reason. So they’d keep eating people and then get too full and puke ‘em all out into a disgusting ball of human glump and continue their binge. It was like a bizarre take on the Capitol citizens from the Hunger games. 

At the end of it, all he told me was that I should journal more and referred to me some creative writing workshops at the community college. And this was even before I even could tell him about the insanely beautiful girl with the red scarf that I haven’t stopped daydreaming about for three days now.

After coming home I got a little crazy and had a little meltdown about how nobody was taking me seriously which Dad thought was par for course for a seventeen-year-old, but Mom got a little snivelly. She came to my room later and gave me a hug and asked if I was acting out because I missed my birth parents. I didn’t know how to react to that so I just hugged her back and told her that I haven’t thought about them in years. Although now I wish I knew them a bit better, because maybe then I’d know for sure if I’m delusional or not because psychiatric disorders usually have genetic history. 

The truth is, I don’t remember much about my birth parents. Mom and Dad have taken care of me since I was three, and apart from the fact that I’m a little weirdo in a family of two very normal, high-functioning adults, I’ve never felt like I didn’t belong here.

Mom, I love you even though you never respect my privacy and are currently reading this journal. 

Day 12

I was googling “memories of past lives” and I somehow found myself on the Wikipedia for Hinduism. It’s a religion where people believe in having many lives. Everybody goes through birth, life and death and then rebirth again because this torture isn’t enough the first time apparently.  

Is that what this is? I’m a cat with too many lives, now? 

Day 13 

I thought I’d found religion but I spent one day listening to a guru with 9.6 million Instagram followers and I’m convinced this shit will only make me crazier. 

Anyway, midterms start in three days, and I know more about “samsara” than I do about Kirschoff’s laws, so see you later. 

Day 20

I’ve hidden this stupid diary away and planted a fake where my mom keeps looking. I need my privacy, for fuck’s sake.

I had History today and I swear to God, I almost threw up when it came to answering the final question on the Holocaust (Ten fucking marks!!!). I started writing it, felt nauseous, excused myself to the bathroom, stared at myself in the mirror, came back only to ask to be excused all over again. Miss Jenny definitely thought I was cheating. She kept hovering over me after I came back, when I was too busy trying not to throw up on her. 

It’s as if, every time I began to write about the Genocide of WWII, I could almost picture the innocents walking to their death. This is not to say that I don’t think what happened was absolutely terrible, but I cannot afford to get emotional during a fucking history exam. 

What’s worse is every time I kept picturing this one boy… this tiny boy with an interesting cap on his head, who looked in my direction with the most puzzling expression. A smile, that then turned into confusion, which then turned into fear. As if I was the one responsible for not only his misery, but that of his entire people. I know it sounds absurd but I really wanted him to know that I felt terrible about what happened. I mean, I had nothing to do with the Holocaust, obviously, but I’m sorry he had to go through it. That anybody had to go through something as terrifying as being persecuted and demonized for something they had no control over. 

I keep thinking about that boy. I wonder what his name was. I wish he could experience the world like I do, now. I wish he could be free too. 

Day 25

I had math today and it was alright, I suppose. I’m not very good at it, so I can’t judge if I’ve done okay or not. I was more interested in History and Civics, Languages that type of thing. Right on my way to a life of making no money. 

While walking back, I tried asking Maks what he thought about the History exam, and more specifically all our tutelage about the Holocaust. 

“What do you mean, how do I feel about it? It’s all bad, obviously, you know that.” 

“Right,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Of course it’s bad. But about why it’s bad. Do you ever, just, you know, feel really terrible about it? That so many people thought it wasn’t bad when it was happening?” 

“I mean,” he said. “Not really. Because it’s not really something you have to think about. It’s obviously bad. We’ve been learning how bad it is, ever since we could read our ABCs. Why would I waste my time thinking about something that I already know is terrible? I already know it!”

I couldn’t argue with that logic anymore. I don’t know why I even bothered with Maks, because I already knew not much went on inside his head, but I didn’t have anyone else I could talk to. At times like this, I really miss Armin, the wimpy blonde in my head that I used to hang out with because I knew he would engage in meaningful conversation about this. He’d probably say something smart about propaganda or the power of narrative or something. 

When I was a kid I was convinced that he was the smartest person on the planet (when he wasn’t even on the planet), because he knew all about Volcanoes and the Mariana Trench and the Sahara and all I knew was the Pokemon type chart. I knew it by heart, by the way. I still do. 

I came home and my over-perceptive parents exchanged glances, probably signalling to each other that their kid really was a loser and that there wasn’t much hope. Then Mom hovered over me to an uncomfortable degree, making me want to scream. The thing is, I don’t even know what to tell her. Wasn’t I too old to be discussing feelings with her anyway?? How am I supposed to tell her with a straight face that I was bawling in the toilet after my exam because Ramzi was just a poor kid in the wrong place at the wrong time???

… Ramzi. 

Who the fuck is Ramzi?

Day 30 

Exams are over. I went with the boys for burgers after school, and we all hotboxed inside Peter’s car before heading over to the restaurant. 

Maybe it’s the mood I’ve been in for the past couple of weeks, but I’m starting to realise that my friends are idiots. And I don’t mean that in the affectionate sense. Peter wants to go into Investment Banking but can’t pass math. He’ll probably keep working at the Mobile store. 

Maks wants to be a cop. In this neighbourhood. I think the only crime we have around here is bicycle theft and no cop ever helps you get your bike back. You just fork out twenty bucks to buy somebody else’s stolen bike from the shady dudes near the central station. The same ones that lurk in the shadows asking if you want a bike, the same way thugs ask if you want drugs. Bikes are like a community commodity around here. It all goes into the same pool and everybody dips into it. 

Hamza wants to help his dad out at his falafel shop and to be honest, that’s the most honourable thing to come out of the lot of us. If you ask me, it’s the best food in town.

But they’re all just so…!!! They make me want to tear my hair out. They seem so okay with everything. With themselves. With their families. With this silly little town. Nothing will change for them after they finish school, and they’re perfectly content with that.

When I was ranting about this to dad over dinner, he asked me, with his little indulgent smile, “Well then, what do you want to do Eren? How are you going to make your life more significant than your friends?”

I was stumped. The truth is I’ve never really pictured anything beyond this, beyond my teenage years. I’ve never once thought about what it would be like to be an actual adult. Huh. 

Day 31

I can’t sleep. I keep dreaming. My dreams are flashes of people’s faces, blood and large horrifying caricatures of human beings whose faces are stuck in a terrifying smile. It’s 3:23 and I woke up crying because my mind seemed fixated on this one woman who was struggling in the monster’s grasp before she was broken in two and tossed in its mouth. 

And when I woke up, I felt the wisps of a soft feminine voice ask me, “Why are you crying, Eren?” I wanted to reach out and hold on to her, beg her to tell me what was going on. But the more I rubbed the tears from my eyes, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was scarf girl. 

Why? I couldn’t tell you. Once I wake, my dreams slowly begin to lose clarity, fading into the noise of the real world and making me doubt my sanity more than ever. But this time when I woke, I felt the lingering sensation of long tresses brushing my face as somebody loomed over me. The strings of wool from a fluffy red scarf. The voice of somebody I was dying to hear. 

Day 38

Yo. it’s been a while. Lots of things have happened since I last wrote here. 

We had term break and I’ve been working on the Weber’s shed (they’re paying me for the help).  Honestly, the last set of dreams I had really fucked me up, so when Maks asked me to help with sawing wood, hammering things into place and just in general, not think, it sounded like a great plan. 

And if I had to stand in the sun without a shirt on when I knew Laura would be looking, I didn’t mind. Well, actually, I hadn’t really thought about it until I saw her staring out her window, right at me. 

I suppose I could write a whole story about how we had conversations with our eyes and licked lollipop ice candies on her porch together where I saw a little drop of candied water fall onto her chest and in between her cleavage, thereby making me want to lick it off of her skin, etc, but it really wasn’t that poetic. I was shirtless, and she was wearing her tiny warm-weather shorts, lips purple from the ice candies we had just gobbled down, and I guess she just asked me one time why I’d never made a move. I didn’t have an answer for her apart from making a move then and there, and some minutes later we ended up in her bedroom with me on my back and her tits dangling in my face. 

Tl:dr; I slept with Laura. I know it’s something I said I wanted some time ago, but as soon as we were done, I couldn’t separate our bodies fast enough. Brown hair matted across her forehead as she looked at me with expectation in her eyes. I couldn’t even look at her. The general public might crucify me as an asshole, but I just felt weird inside. She kept looking at me the entire time, large, soft brown eyes staring into mine as her hair spread all over me as she rode me. 

I suppose I did alright for a first time; I got off, she orgasmed first so I guess that’s a success. Laura was quite self-sufficient at the whole sex thing, honestly, it was as if she used me to get off and I let her. It all felt like a scam to me, instead of being excited about grabbing my first pair of tits all I could think was that this wasn’t right. There was an unfamiliarity about Laura that unsettled me, and I’m not sure what it was. But every time she scolded me affectionately, or brought my hands to her body to show me what she liked, I felt a little bit nauseous. 

And when she scrambled for the bedsheets after and asked if everything was alright, I had never felt like a bigger fuckup. 

“I thought you enjoyed it,” she said, her voice getting a little bit high and somewhat accusatory. “You came right? I was pretty sure you came.” 

“I did, yeah. It’s not that, Laura, the sex was… you were, I mean, it was all very nice. I just… maybe I don’t feel well. I’m sorry.” (NICE!! God, I’m such a fuckin idiot)

“You seemed pretty well when you stuck your tongue in my mouth and felt me up over my bra.” Every word she said just made me feel worse. 

“Do you have a girlfriend or something?” 

I pinched the bridge of my nose while I struggled with the most obvious, factual answer. But instead, with guilt burning my cheeks, all I said was, “... or something.” 

Day 39

After telling Laura that the sex was “nice,” I’ve been holed up in my room wondering, not for the first time, what the fuck was wrong with me. 

When I went down to have my muesli in the morning, Mom trapped me into a conversation. “You’ve been so dull lately, sweetheart,” she said, with her usual concern. It’s at times like this that I wish she would stop piling on the verbal concern and just bully the doctor into giving me some medication. Surely I could get some good ol’ pills for these hallucinations and I’d be okay. 

Instead, in keeping with my latest tradition of saying things I have not thought through, I blurted out, “Mom, did you always know you were going to be married to Dad?” 

She looked taken aback for a second. “Is that what’s got you down? Love problems? Oh, honey—” 

“Just answer the question, Mom. Don’t psychoanalyse.”  

“Well, not really, Eren. You see, I love your father very much, but I met him only when I was twenty-seven, and I’d had my fair share of experimentation and mistakes by then.” 

I nodded vigorously. See, this was normal. 

“Is there somebody on your mind?” 

I debated telling her for a split second, but my impulsiveness got the better of me. “I suppose there is, yeah.”

“Is it somebody I know?” Mom probed gently. She probably expected a different answer, because she’s been giving these sly smiles wherever Laura was concerned for a while now, so when I said, “Not really,” she blinked at me in surprise. 

“The thing is, even I don’t really know her. Not exactly in the way you would usually know somebody, I mean.” 

She blinked at me some more, looking as confused as I sounded. “There’s this girl,” I told her, my voice dropping down to a whispered mumble, “... this Japanese girl, I think, she keeps showing up in my dreams.” 

“You mean the same dreams as the one with the monsters…?” She asked, carefully keeping her voice neutral. 

If anything, my mother has always listened to me, I’ll give her that. “They’re called titans, apparently.” Crucial information from my last night’s terrors. “And yeah. The same ones. I think. I really do think they’re all set in the same world.” 

The more I listen to myself, the more I feel like I’m describing some kind of fantasy role-playing game. 

“So, what about this girl?”

Right, Eren. What about this girl? As my mother asked me that, I was struck with this ridiculous urge to prattle on about how she had a scar on her right cheek, a mole right beneath that, and even though she usually kept her hair short, long hair was simply gorgeous on her. She was humanity’s strongest, and so fucking smart, she was incredible. She could do anything and excel at it; she was one of those people that you could trust with your life. 

And how is it that despite not really knowing this girl, I knew so much about her? Fuck if I know. The only thing I did know, however: “I think she’s my wife. Sort of.”

Mom was speechless. “I know you think I’m crazy, Mom,” I told her. “But I just. I know it. Inside.” I sounded crazier with every word I said. Mom’s expression grew more pitying by the minute. 

She caressed my hair with a sad sort of affection in her eyes. “You’re really struggling with this, aren’t you, Eren?” 

My shoulders slumped; I felt defeated. I could see that she wasn’t taking me seriously, again. Well, what did I expect? If a seventeen-year-old told his mother that he was dreaming about a girl he didn’t even know, but somehow knew that she was his wife?? Man, even I couldn’t take myself seriously.

Day 41

Aside from being totally mortified, that conversation with Mom did bear fruit. I don’t know what she told the doc, but when I went for my appointment today, I left with an assortment of pills that were supposed to make me “feel better.” 

I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t feeling depressed, just crazy, but by this time I’m willing to try anything. So here goes nothing!! 

Day 46

I’ve been taking the pills for five days now, but nothing feels different. The doc says it takes some time for my body to react. I don’t really understand it because I’m usually the impulsive, reactionary type, but okay I guess. When it comes down to it, your brain just runs on a bunch of chemicals and these medicines are supposed to help me balance out the equations. (Doc's words, not mine.)

Today when we walked back from the grocery store, I saw an Asian family loading their trunk with groceries. There was an elderly couple and a woman (I think), who was doing most of the heavy lifting. Mom was grumbling about how chickpea pasta wasn’t a good enough way to boost her protein, but for some reason, that family caught my attention. I found myself craning my neck to get a look at the woman whose back was all I could see (a nice back, if I must say). 

Mom thumped me lightly on the shoulder and asked what the hell I was doing. 

It was kind of embarrassing because I know what it looked like. That I was busy checking out some woman’s ass with my mom right next to me. But it wasn’t that, I promise.

I mumbled an apology. But when we went further Mom suddenly looked at me all funny and was like, “Eren. You shouldn’t fetishize people, you know.” 

Naturally, I was gobsmacked?!??!??? 

Turns out, Mom put two-and-two together; first my “imaginary” (I didn’t like it when she said that, by the way. There was nothing imaginary about this woman. She was real. Our relationship was real.) wife, and then this Asian-looking family. Ridiculous! I did not think today was the day I’d get schooled by my mother about having an Asian fetish!!

Anyway, school starts tomorrow and I’m nervous because we’ll be getting our grades and term papers back. (Blegh)

Day 47

I feel like I’m about to explode. I have so many feelings, holy shit, I’m literally in the middle of class as I write this, I don’t even know where to begin. 

In an effort to start at the beginning, here goes: 

I THINK I’VE FOUND SCARF GIRL. 

AND SHE’S MY FUCKING MATH TEACHER ASLFADFKDSGL

I walked into school expecting the same old boring drivel as every other term, and mostly the morning had implied exactly that. Kris complimented my hair (I’d grown it longer despite my father’s insistence about cutting it, simply because I felt I wasn’t rebelling enough. I was a teenager after all, I’ve to pay my dues.) and it felt nice, because at least something was different.

We had different classes and got back papers in each class, and my eyes glassed over pages and pages of mostly ok answers, but largely silly mistakes, and the big red circle indicating my very average grades. My classmates queued up to the teacher’s desk to try and get a better grade but I didn’t really care much for it.

History, as I predicted was a shitshow thanks to my brain, but I seem to have made up for my earlier performance in French, thanks to a solid hour of concentration in the exam. 

Math was the last class of the day, and predictable Mr Hofferman, our grumbly old Math teacher was late. He was never late. He was one of those annoying teachers who was five minutes early, and would start his lesson as soon as the clock allowed him to, whether the rest of us had even sat down or not.

Ten minutes later— when the class had dissolved into little groups, girls sitting on the desks with their skirts bunched up high, boys chewing gum loudly even though we weren’t allowed to, complaining about how Mr Hofferman was for sure going to fuck all of us up with a ridiculously harsh marking scheme— a lady stumbled in, her hair looking wind-worn, in a pretty pink sweater and grey slacks. “Is this 4B,” she mumbled mostly to herself, craning her neck to see the door and confirm that it was, indeed, 4B. “Right, it is.” And then, in a most unusual turn of events, she set her books down and looked at us straight in the eye, and gave us the most gorgeous smile I have ever seen.

I don’t know about the others, but it took me several moments to recover. 

She gave us a small, shy wave, and a little bow, and introduced herself as Mika Akkerman. Her mother was Japanese and her father was Japanese-German, and after retiring, her father wanted to come back to the little town where he was from. She told us she was very excited to teach us from now on, and in an absolutely adorable accent asked us to “please treat me well.” 

There was such a violent shudder in my heart at that moment, I swear to God that I thought I was going to die. 

After that, she gave the sweetest little laugh, pushed her hair back behind her ear and said, “Although, giving you your test results is probably not the best way to start a good relationship.” 

As if I weren’t absolutely decimated by her beauty alone, what I saw at that moment threw me for a loop. 

There was a scar. On her cheek. And a little mole right underneath it.

As I lay stumped in my seat, my mind racing a million miles per hour, trying to even grasp the implications of everything that lay in front of me, Miss Mika took her seat and began to go through our term papers, one by one. She decided she would call us all to the front, to introduce ourselves, so she could more personally explain her assessment. 

“Eren,” she said, when it finally came to my turn, “Jaeger?” 

Idiot that I am, I stayed motionless until Maks ribbed me and said, “Stop spacing out, Jaeger, it’s your turn.” 

But I wasn’t spacing out. I don’t think I was ever more aware, or more present than in that fucking moment. The way she said my name, it finally felt right. Not Erren, Or Erin, Or Erain, But Ereh, kind of with the n a little bit silent, just a little breathy noise from her tiny nose, sounding kind of intimate like she’d spent a lifetime saying my name that way. 

She shook my hand, as she seemed to have done for every student, and fixed me with those gorgeous grey eyes. I was probably trembling like a fucking loser. (This is not how I wanted to reconnect with my wife!!!!)

“You have a nice name,” she said, thoughtfully. “It’s interesting that you have styled it in the American way.” 

That’s when I looked down at my paper. I’d signed it Eren “Yeager”. Which I never do, usually. My name is Eren Jäger; we usually understand the umlauts around here. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” I told her truthfully. It was the understatement of the year.

She then gave me a polite smile (it was so pretty, I swear, every time she smiles, I feel like a character straight out of a shoujo manga replete with heart eyes), and proceeded to walk me through my math paper. 

I have no fucking clue what she said because all I could think about was that her voice was so nice. And every time she said my name I felt my cheeks grow hot. 

In the end, she looked at me sweetly and said, “Well, don’t be discouraged, Ereh. Math is all about learning a few tricks and then you’ll master it, no doubt.” Which was excellent because now I was certain that I hadn’t left a particularly wonderful impression with my paper. Despite that, it appears my shamelessness reached new heights when she asked me if I had any questions, and all I felt compelled to ask was, “How old are you, exactly?” 

She blinked at me, and then stuttered a nervous laugh. “I always forget how direct everybody is around here. I’m 23.” And then, as if that was the real problem here, she said spiritedly, “But don’t underestimate me! What I lack in experience, I make up for with enthusiasm!” 

Oh boy. I didn’t doubt it. 

Now I’m back in my seat, barely acknowledging my dismal performance both academically and socially. My brain is buzzing restlessly. I can barely pay attention to anything that is being said to me (because, Mikasa wasn’t talking to me, it was mostly just Maks and Peter grumbling about their grades). 

All I can think is… What the fuck? 

I’ve never had a fully clear picture of the woman from my dreams but I know with startling clarity that this is her. I know it with my whole being. I knew it when she walked into class, when I saw her scar, when I heard her speak, when her eyes met mine. It’s like a flash went through my body, when we shook hands. 

This isn’t normal. But does it really matter? 

Because I think I’ve found my wife. 

Day 46 contd 

I have more updates. 

As class ended, Mikasa piled up her books and then embarrassedly mumbled that she was still new here, and that perhaps she would get lost and in a twist of what is surely fate, she called out, “Eren Jaeger, do you think you might be able to help me find my way to the Teacher’s lounge?” 

Of course, I would. I would do anything for her, she just didn’t know it yet. 

As we walked there, I learnt some things about her. She didn’t like silences, she found them awkward. Which was just as well, because after she broke the first one with some polite comment about what a lovely school we had, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. My only exposure to Japanese culture is from my interest in anime, and from what little I know, I’m pretty sure she thought I was completely rude and out-of-turn. 

In a span of a few minutes, I asked her how long she’s been in town (just a week), where she came from (Kyoto), and whether she’s already settled (if she needed any help, she could feel free to ask me, you know). I tried my best to get a glimpse of her fingers but couldn’t, but I was pretty sure when we shook hands that I didn’t feel any rings. So she wasn’t married. 

But that didn’t mean she didn’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Or a partner. Or a fucking dog, that took up all her attention, I don’t know. 

As I stood near her little desk in the teacher’s lounge as she talked about how different the weather was here compared to Japan, I felt fucking crazy. It’s only been forty-five minutes since I’ve seen her, but I want to know everything about her. I want to know what I’ve missed out on for so many years, and I want to make up for the fact that she was brought into the world five years too early. 

I had this creepy desire to tell her that nothing mattered anymore, because she and I were meant to be together. Eventually, I got out of my head, and as I began to walk her to the school gates, I realised that this was the end of our time together today. She would go home, and probably not think of me for the rest of the evening, while I spent every waking moment (and probably my sleeping ones too) filled with thoughts of her. “Why did you come here, Mikasa?” 

“Ah, like I said, my father was born here and wanted to come back, so—“ 

“But why now? Why to this school? Why did you decide to come with them?”

She stuttered an answer at first, but then slowly her eyes narrowed at me. She watched me silently for a moment before she murmured, “Ereh, I never told you my name was Mikasa.” 

Shit.

“My name is Mika Akkerman. And I’m your teacher,” she said, her voice strained. There was an antsy, faraway look in her eye, as she spoke. “… You should talk to me with respect.” And then she turned around and left.

I ran back home, straight to my room and as I write this, I’m still shaking. 

I don’t know why I called her Mikasa. 

I don’t know why I spoke to her in such a familiar way. 

I don’t know why when I look at her I felt like I’ve been waiting for so long, and that she has finally returned to me.

All I know is that I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’ve memorised that face, and I’ve listened to that voice so often, I would know it even as I lay in my grave. I’ve felt that skin against mine before, the same skin that held my hand so firmly today. 

More than anything I knew that this was scarf girl. And the universe had finally brought us together. 

[trrickytickle]

Liv and Maddie- tickle headcanons 🎬🏀

(LOLOLOL THIS PIC DESCRIBES ME AND MY TWIN SO WELL) my story forger @tickle-beans' beautiful request! fun fact i mixed up liv and maddie's names for the hcs bc it was like. 2 am when i wrote these. at least it is not as crucial an error as SPIDERMONKEY NOT BEING IN THE ORIGINAL SERIES- jk love u a lot!!

Maddie Rooney ⛹️‍♀️

-Most defiant lee of the two. Genuinely loves tickling- it's fun.. admittedly- but won't admit it. NOBODY can know she's ticklish- but alas, they do. they always do. Diggie won't let her hear the end of it (obviously, love that idiot). I am team Mosh though. Love those motherfuckers. -It's the way she grits her teeth when she laughs and struggles through saying "I'm not ticklish." as a sign. However Joey, Parker and Liv know exactly how to make her crack- and it's good that she has some tricks up her sleeve. -Kicker. I say this with everyone, but kicker. -Laugh that's chirpy like Liv's voice. Liv actually tried to give her singing lessons once and pressed down on her diaphragm- making her positively squeal. Tickle fights ensued. -Without Maddie, it was Joey and Parker's job to absolutely destroy her growing up- on TOP of her parents.. -..and as a result she honed the skill to get back at them AND use those skills on Liv- who shares the same weaknesses as her- a double-edged sword indeed. -Gets really into the ler role, very playful and competitive. A roughhousing tomboy who doesn't start tickle fights but will end them. Often targets her siblings, and they always get her back, escalating into a Rooney tk fight (which i'm not gonna lie is adorable) -definetly has ticklish ribs- oh and also armpits, shoulderblades, feet, knees and tummy.

Liv Rooney ⭐

-Loves being tickled. No exaggeration. She'll openly explain it tickles when it does and purposely lean in. When it's Maddie, however.. she can't help but retaliate. -Huge squealer. Squees like her usual perky self and giggles with an "ehehehe!". She's adorable lol -Genuinely missed physical contact with her family on the set of Sing It Loud. However, she was tickled a fuck-ton on set by castmates, the makeup department, being fitted for shoes.. plenty of silly set shenanigans. HERE'S ONE!! they had to retake a tickle scene with her in it so many times lol -Evil ler- in a completely different way. Uses that adorable pouty voice of hers and baby talks a lot. You'd think she'd be kind of a greenhorn to the whole tickling thing but she's an absolute natural and the other Rooney kids hate it. -Gets really hyped at the prospect of tickling others. like i said, natural. -Often comes home w/ a manicure, uses it to her advantages -Given her fame, a clip of her being tickled is bound to be out there somewhere. Maddie teases her about it sooo much, you can not imagine. -ADORABLY so, worst spot is her tummy. Shares most of the same spots as Maddie- except for her ribs- that's swapped with her neck.

[ticklishfiend]

okay here are my lee!jesse headcanons bc i cannot get it out of my head

- this man is a KICKER. tickle him even the slightest bit and he will crumble to the floor just so he can try and kick you from below

- his neck is SUCH a bad spot on him omg. jane has always been one to kiss/bite at peoples necks in bed, but he literally cant take it and she thinks it’s precious. the first time she did it, he like violently snickered and jerked his head so hard he accidentally head butted her lol. after that she absolutely assaulted him with ticklish neck kisses and nibbles because his giggles and pleas were too cute not to

- jane loved to tickle jesse any chance she could. if she woke up before him? side squeezes are his new alarm clock. just chilling together on the couch? perfect time for a surprise tickle attack. and he never properly fought her off either, just kinda pulled at her wrists a bit with his head thrown back and jerking side to side in cackles. oh, and the kicks of course. he never kicked her, but he’s always kicking BEHIND her when she’s tickling him. feet banging on the floor kinda deal.

- his laugh has variety to say the least. he usually starts out really loud and boisterous and from the belly, before going kinda screamy and shrill, and after a while he just goes full squeals and giggles. he’s soooo embarrassed when he gets to the giggle-stage. this boy loves acting tough but give the bottom of his ribs some good tweaks for a while and he’s just gone full bubbly laughter.

- when he started seeing andrea, he definitely took on a more ler role. giving her little pokes when he’s teasing her, sometimes going full tickle monster when she says something snarky. that doesn’t mean andrea doesn’t tickle him back tho, because when she realized just HOW ticklish he was, he never lived it down

- andrea and brock have 100% ganged up on him before. there’s a scene where jesse tickles brock for like a split second when they’re playing mario kart, so i know he’s definitely gotten brock before when play fighting and roughhousing. so one time after finishing up playing tickle monster with the kid, he realizes andrea was watching, and she’s just got this look on her face. then she’s like “brock, u know jesse’s super ticklish right? oh he didn’t tell u?” and brock’s like 😮 before turning to jesse and just launching on top, andrea close behind to help out cause she’s very familiar with all the best spots. jesse doesn’t fight back even a little, he’s having so much fun with the two of them, even if it costs him just a smidgen of his dignity

- badger and skinny pete have wrecked his shit before. those two are idiots who are constantly stoned out of their mind, so finding out that their best friend is ridiculously ticklish was incredibly interesting information to them. jesse was like a tornado trying to fight them off but the two of them together just inevitably had more strength than the ticklish 5’8 lil freak, especially once they started squeezing at his sides and belly at the same time cause he just lost all motor function and curled up in a cackling, kicking ball on the floor.

- badger loves tickling jesse the most, he thinks it’s fucking hilarious. skinny pete usually just sits there and chuckles along, making comments like “damn how are u a grown ass man and ur still this ticklish?” “yo my cousin tried tickling me one time as a kid, and i elbowed her so hard she lost a fuckin tooth.” but that’s besides the point. sometimes badger will just be in one of his lil rambling episodes, talking about god knows what, and literally while talking will just reach over and start squeezing up and down jessie’s torso til he falls over. badger literally pretends like he’s not even tickling him, just continuing telling his story to pete while jesse is a hysterical fucking mess right beside him.

okay it’s 3am and i’m too tired to continue this but i might continue with more cause i want to tickle jesse Myself but if i can’t have that this is the next best thing

[nietr]

Fair enough haha, was gonna say it ain't worth getting pissed over if so

no but tbh it is kind of sad that the people pumping money into this shit that causes divide are only half way there with their brainwashing of the youth and college students because then all that is left is conquer.

I'm not mad with these kids, i'm more depressed... i find it both absolutely telling and somewhat amusing of these people's true feelings when they can hide behind anonymity with their shit hot takes and also, kind of depressing because these people/persons are so upset because i dont fuck with Che Guevara, a piece of shit dictator, that they want me to kill myself, its clear they've been completely brainwashed and are also mad immature because emotionally they can't handle someone having a different take on things compared to theirs... these are supposed to be the people who are oh so compassionate and considerate of others yet they dont understand just how many people died under communist regimes... they dont know world history at all and that right there is pretty literal definition of insanity because they think "oh, this time we'll get it right." to advocate for communism after what we've seen from the 20th century... its literally insane. The whole "yeah communism is the answer and more died from communist regimes than all the fascist ones combined but that is because the wrong person was in charge, that wasn't real communism." literal insanity my dood....

I'm not a nazi, i'm not a racist, i'm not a homphobe, i'm not any of that shit... but if i dont go full throttle with all the neo-liberal beliefs then, in their mind, i am all of those things because these people are basically manchurian candidates in a sense and they don't even realize it, their world is so fucking black and white its insane.

its not that im pissed off or upset, its more that im disappointed we've failed these kids from gobbling up foreign and even domestic propaganda...

i remember when i was a teenager and i went to school every day with an anarchy symbol T shirt and chose to opt out of the national anthem, i know a lot of that was influenced by basic teen angst and the music i was bumping at that time, like SOAD. (when schools still had the pledge of allegiance in first period.) I know how impressionable these kids are because they know something is very wrong with the world like i did, its just that the answer is not fucking communism... but theyre being brainwashed that it is. its a false dichotomy

and i dont claim to know what it is. idk if its democracy (and news flash, despite what the news tells you, the U.S. is not a democracy at all for the most part), if its anarchy, if maybe the country needs to be balkanized and then seceded states should be nationalized. i dont know. i'm not a political and philosophy major.... but, like i said, i remember being a teenager and angsty af and upset with everything and its so easy to get these kids to join your cause if you have pushed enough brainwashing and propaganda into such a developmental time of life with 'HEY HERES THE SOLUTION." and you've got a good pitch. You could easily sell the same kid just about anything else at that point. natsoc, civic nationalism, communism, anarchy, etc....

the kicker is the people funneling millions of dollars into hard left wing programming and instigation see these kids, races and people as chattel useful idiot peasants and want this division for more dubious reasons, not for some greater good.... they're being played and dont even realize it... its mad unfortunate. (think george soros)

At the end of the day if you bleed red and you're a fellow citizen of my country i would defend to the death for you to have ur freedom of speech even if i absolutely disagree with it... yet, if the role is reversed and if you have any views not absolutely hard left leaning, you're a fascist piece of shit now and should be cancelled (censored, revoked of your 1st amendment online and dead) whatever, because thanks to these idiots that term (fascist) has lost all its meaning. everyone is a fascist if they're not full blown commies now... lol

at the end of the day, its just sad. these kids are pissed at the system (rightfully so) and MSM has given them the operation mockingbird script and rhetoric.... sadly they eat it up and probably live in an echo chamber on top of it all.

I just want people to think for themselves and less hate and more love in the world man.

[the-firebird69]

Teen babes protest and fucked in the forest - XVIDEOS.COM

I'm also forced to masticate. And they want me to hide things that happened to people too out of embarrassment and so on but they're the ones who cause me injury and then forced me to do it. And it is somewhat illegal so we go and find them and pull them in interrogate and incinerate them. In this case it seems to be Tommy f with two of your women more like in the woods I know one of them was murdered and was on NCIS and they showed her picture cuz they identified her and she's gone very gone. And she appeared in the video boondocks and I believe was involved in trying to revive hard not kick her 5150 and it is not even out yet and it looks like Tommy f not Mac and I understand that he's saying he's trying to quell the rebellion and to halt the bike which gave these people a big boost and cause trouble between them but this is murder and if I witness it and see her and don't report it then I'm in trouble and I know law enforcement watches this cuz I see people get arrested like Trump and son after I comment about their illegal behavior upon myself usually. And that little s*** next door is saying it right now at Walmart he called me the cop caller and so forth and Trump showed up now all the cops are getting fired and they can't get the pattern it's like you're supposed to leave me alone so it doesn't happen and your people are telling you to and you won't listen so there's two groups who do this kind of thing get caught and continue doing it to their own and not their own but they the Trump's steal from their own constantly and ruin plans and so forth for rebellion and should be hung publicly but they don't get on publicly so I use them for whatever I have to and right now what's it going to be used for is horrifying and they say somehow Tommy F will pay because the underworld will be flooded with these things and it's just an assumption but mostly I guess Jason's people would suffer because of tunnels being taking over

Zues Hera

You're a circle of jackass in your circle doesn't do s*** for you idiots but he's right you keep putting him in the middle of all the stupid stuff and you're playing with other people all the time put the backs are involved and with this hit too cuz they want to look like someone's trying to implicate them when they're trying to quash the kicker 5152 because it damaged them last time and it shows weakness that they're trying to stop it in fear and the movement will pick up more however it won't stop the elimination of their race with a little handed off I'd like to see in a tool and the legacy is going to include now that they didn't give up and they found life with living which we respect

Thor Freya

Olympus

Yeah I'm here too as a footnote I guess but really he knew about this he saw it on the show and said well that's her and I don't know what happened then the wise ass Tommy have to decide to show him and here it is in black and white and it's the location too and it's nearby where they videotaped that new video boondocks and it is new and his clothes are there with him and they murdered all of the girls and a couple guys who are there and they're all dead and then CIS found them identified them and now they're going to know what it's from and who

Hera

It'll be arrested for murder and they're going to add harassment of a witness because you're harassing me if you tell me you murdered someone little s**** I'm going to immediately tell on you and from now on you should know it the little a****** next door got it you show up again I called the cops I don't know why that's so complicated I just sitting here telling me like I can't do anything and you're wrong you're spotting off again something to have had two charges to homicide and by the way if you go to prison get sick you're dead

Zues

I sort of get something we keep showing him this and he keeps telling us to f*** off I find out that some of my men may have died around him a whole bunch died in Worcester and he doesn't say take the s*** that would give him giving it to him and we're dying in a big scale in other words it's not worth it and he says his child's math we haven't gotten past the first f****** gate and it never will happen his clans doing it and we can get f***** and also because we are continuously doing it it's going to be a lot easier for them so I figured out that this is very bad and what we're doing is very wrong it's too late. And they said they're going to add to the chargers more threats and they can see me doing it I sort of get something I just publish it so it'll add more charges it says no let's get it all out so you can come down there and plug you you need to be shot for treeson anyways you shouldn't be in America you don't belong here, he also says we give a shot on site and I've heard that a lot and it's true we ignore that too it doesn't want us near him and we're stupid to be here cuz it can get people here or things and I agree we keep on taunting him I don't know about his group and we're gifted and he says we're doomed and sucked his rebels anyways keep on ruining rebels that are useful falling for s*** that we we needed those bikes and we still do he wants us to shut up and leave him alone we live here so can you really do you'll see when the keys are used he says especially the hellraiser and he knows what he's doing and they do it to us and these people do it worse much worse it's getting so bad I can't see

Tommy f

Olympus