#every time I listen to one week by barenaked ladies

[noodles-and-tea]

the IT gang? they are tooo silly to leave un-drawn in this moment right now

I guess you’re right about that

[bazookapussy-stankhoe-5000]

Listen listen listen so like i go through free! phases sometimes right (i know cringe cringe whatever it still hits man) but the thing is ive absolutely watched 50% off (the abridged version on youtube) far more times than the actual show so like effectively its been replaced in my head with that so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I literally think about 50 off all the time its constantly in the back of my mind

[tomatoluvr69]

Something that happens to me #myfate is every time I see the name akira kurosawa (on here or elsewhere but mostly on here let’s be real) I instantly get the barenaked ladies’ One Week stuck in my head because of the line “Like akira kurosawa, I make mad films, k I don't make films, but if I did they'd have a samurai” and it doesn’t let up until I listen to the song which while catchy is objectively kind of annoying. So now Spotify thinks I really like One Week and will put it in my daily mixes and whatnot sometimes so I’ll be driving along and it comes on and suddenly I’m thinking about Rashomon and then I have to go to work. Yayyyyy everyone clap great story

[coquelicoq]

9 Fandom Peeps to Get to Know Better

i was tagged by @littleragondin! mci mon ami.e !

3 Ships You Like: in a kim dojka & yoo sangah platonic life partners phase rn. god. they would get married but not because they particularly care about marriage, just to bypass the hoops the government makes single people jump through in order to adopt kids, but kim dokja would seriously hesitate for the sole reason that him marrying yoo sangah would make all three of his parents very happy in a way that he would find incredibly annoying.

ok i'm doing another platonic one: moon & ember! i have read the few existing moon & ember fics so many times i can no longer separate them from canon. their dynamic is everything 2 me. bodyguard & anger translator. damaged hottie with trust issues & naive little pretty boy who just wants to go home. moon sees ember as not just a romantic rival but also a threat to his place in the colony, and of course being moon, his reaction to that is not to challenge ember but just to assume that he's been replaced and that he has to start over again alone. ember is everything that moon is not, everything he's convinced he's supposed to be, but ACTUALLY they're both perfect the way they are and there's room enough in this court for the both of them. they are so powerful when they combine their complementary skillsets for the good of the colony. plus i love that every time he interacts with anyone moon is probably thinking, "ugh, i bet EMBER wouldn't be fucking this up"…but also he's defending ember when stone makes fun of him and offering to challenge the reigning queen on ember's behalf! he's protective of ember even as ember embodies everything that makes him insecure. meanwhile ember thinks moon is the coolest person to ever exist and also. extremely cringe. probably 25% of his pillow talk is him subtly trying to convince pearl that moon is just a little birthday boy who should be allowed to be a hugely oversensitive weirdo, as a treat.

people have been rbing some of my cherry magic posts recently so i've been thinking about kurodachi again. i miss them! they're so well matched, so complementary in the ways that they need to grow, and it's lovely to watch them help each other do that. the way that adachi is inspired to make an effort by kurosawa's continuous striving for things he thinks he'll never get, and the way that adachi's apathy for perfection frees kurosawa from his need to be worthy…like ok fine whatever i am listening!!!

First Ship Ever: i have been sitting here trying to think of an earlier ship so i can avoid embarrassing myself, but if i'm honest it's probably ron/hermione. moving right along.

Last Song You Heard: one week by barenaked ladies! what a banger.

Favorite Childhood Book: when i was a kid i had meticulously curated my top ten favorite books, but now i can only remember half of them: island of the blue dolphins, the witch of blackbird pond, ella enchanted, walk two moons, and mrs. frisby and the rats of nimh. can you tell i had one of those bookmarks that listed all the newberry award winners and was working my way through it? lol.

Currently Reading: i just finished my reread of maskerade, the discworld book about the opera, which i had put on hold after reading le fantôme de l'opéra. it wasn't one of my fave discworlds as a teen but i think i'm now in the right headspace for it. enjoyed it quite a bit!

i'm near the end of both the traitor baru cormorant by seth dickinson and par amour by valérie tong cuong. the latter is about a family in le havre during wwii and is very hard to put down. i have honestly no idea what will happen in the remaining two chapters except the nazis are going to lose the war. the traitor baru cormorant is well done, but i don't think i like it enough to read the sequel. (i still am pathologically unable to stop a book that i've started, but i've just discovered that i am capable of stopping after book 1 of a series. life hack!!)

Currently watching: natsume season 4 dub! i just watched the moon-splitting festival arc and the baby nanase episode yesterday. next up is the one about natsume's picture of his parents which. like. let's just say i am marshaling my emotional forces for that one.

also it is about to be march madness! selection sunday tomorrow babey!!!

Currently consuming: the great thing (sarcastic) about living alone is that you spend four hours making this quinoa black bean dish and then have to somehow eat all of it before it goes bad. luckily my neighbor and i have been doing this cute thing for the last ~6 months where we share whatever food we make with each other. this has been working out extremely well for me, because when he cooks i get to eat without having to do anything whatsoever, and when i cook i don't have to worry as much about quantity. i feel like i tricked him into it somehow even though he is getting exactly the same thing out of it as i am.

Currently craving: a baked good i made for the first time recently and then made again two times in rapid succession because i (and my neighbor lol) liked it so much: gingies! okay technically the recipe calls them gingerbread cookie bars, and i just looked up "gingies" (to make sure it's not an offensive term for redheads that i don't know about) and apparently it's frequently used for gingersnaps, but MY use of "gingies" is right and correct and all these other people are idiots. the reason is that they're basically brownies (texture/structure/technique-wise) but with the gingerbread flavor profile instead of chocolate. and "gingeries" sounds stupid, so gingies it is!

tagging @treecakes, @joelletwo, @qserasera, @defeateddetectives, @ctl-yuejie, @deimos-the-wolf, @stupid-lemon-eater, @loreofcardigan, and @dangerliesbeforeyou if you feel like it! no pressure obvi!!

[toomuchsmoshbrainrot]

lmfao fuck i have my big-ass playlist of like basically every song ive ever listened to on shuffle

and one week by barenaked ladies just came on

i s2g that smosh games ransom notes video has ruined it for me, tommy and his damn IT BEEN joke lives rent free in my head and last time i watched that clip i was full tilt wheeze laughing til it hurt

gdi tommy

[oliverreedmasterass]

Words: 3.8K

Synopsis: Jake and Josh can be such Tauruses sometimes. Jake picks a pointless fight with Josh and it takes them one week to finally let it go (oddly enough, based on the Barenaked Ladies song, One Week) 

Warnings: Language, mentions of drinking, rough housing

__________________________________________________

7 Days

Josh laid in his bunk on their tour bus, bumping up and down with every pothole the driver seemed to be hitting on purpose, leafing through one of Sam’s books that he had left sitting around. It was some kind of sci-fi story about machines becoming sentient or something and, as gripping as the story probably was, Josh could feel his eyes starting to droop. He would have been out within the next few minutes if it wasn’t for Jake tearing the curtain back from his bunk and thrusting his head inside. 

“Woah!” Josh called out, juggling the book in his hands and losing his page. He met Jake’s eyes and saw that his face looked placid, although pensive, as if something was on his mind. “Can’t a guy get some peace and quiet?” he decided it was safe to ask. Jake met his eyes and cocked his head to the side. 

“I’m angry,” he stated flatly, as if he was giving someone his sandwich order. 

“Okay?” Josh guessed. Sometimes it was hard to read exactly what was going through his twin’s head; the guy was like an enigma half the time. 

“At you,” Jake finally finished his sentence, as if he had just decided that fact in the moment. 

“At me?” Josh was growing wary. “What did I do?”

“You know what you did,” Jake’s tone was disturbingly level. Josh decided it was best to hide behind the hardcover of Sam’s book as an extra layer of protection in case Jake started to get physical. He was acting like a ticking time bomb, and it made Josh’s skin crawl. 

“I don’t think I do,” Josh responded, his face shoved in the book. “I think you’re probably mad at Sam instead.” 

“No, it’s you,” Jake retorted. Josh snuck a peek at his brother and saw that he was gazing at Josh in interest, as if challenging him. 

“I feel like you’re just trying to get a rise out of me. We’ve been on this bus long enough, you’re bored and want something exciting to do.” 

“You’re crazy,” Jake stepped away from Josh’s bunk to throw his hands up in the air. Josh heard him stomp to the back of the bus where he started to violently thrash away on his acoustic guitar. That seemed to settle that. Josh knew Jake well enough: he had nailed it on the head and Jake was upset that he saw through his bullshit. He’d have to try a lot harder to get Josh riled up for his own entertainment. 

Josh flipped through the pages of the book, trying to find where he had left off while listening to Jake’s rapid strumming patterns echoing through the bus over Danny and Sam’s chatter. They were in the front of the bus playing cards, keeping out of Jake and Josh’s business: they knew better than to get involved in any of their irrational arguments. Josh was certain that they had listened to everything though. Things could get really boring on the bus. 

He finally found where he had left off and started to read a few more sentences that flew straight over his head when he heard Jake’s guitar playing come to a stop and his footsteps approaching his bunk once more. Josh said a silent prayer, hoping that Jake’s fury wasn’t returning for a second round. He heard Jake knock on the wood outside his bunk and cautiously peeled the curtain back so he was eye to eye with his brother. Jake dropped the hand he had used to knock back to his side and held both his hands in tight fists. 

“I’m sorry,” he said down to the ground. Josh studied him and knew deep in his gut that he should accept his apology and move on, but Josh was a Taurus. He wasn’t built that way. 

“I don’t accept your apology,” he said, closing the curtain on Jake’s face. Josh wished he could have taken a photo of the look Jake made as he did that: he looked as though he had just walked in on Dave Grohl in the bathroom. 

“Really?” he called from the other side of the curtain. 

“Really,” Josh calmly replied back, opening his book once more. He heard Jake huff and trudge to the front of the bus, where he was sure to be complaining to Sam and Danny. Josh couldn’t help but grin. 

5 Days

For the most part, things remained civil between the two brothers, albeit tense. They had a show the next day, so Josh spent the majority of the day in solitude on vocal rest like he always did, meaning Jake couldn’t bother him too much. He had received a pretty gnarly glare from Jake across the table during breakfast, but that was to be expected. Being on stage with him wasn’t an issue: the adrenaline of playing in front of a crowd allowed them to forget their turmoil for a couple of hours. Josh even gave Jake a playful slap on the ass after his Broken Bells solo, which he returned with a full on body check. The audience loved it. 

It was good timing that Jita was in town for the show, since Jake got a hotel room for them both to enjoy. Josh was glad he didn’t have to worry about Jake slamming his feet into the bottom of his bunk for the second night in a row. So, after a restful night’s sleep, he woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed, eager to explore around Orlando on their day off. He had an elaborate plan for the day to try and find some gators out in the wild, but that was put on hold when he received an off putting text from Jake. 

Come to my hotel room. Now. 

Josh knew that it was about the argument Jake had tried to start the night prior, and that it had probably kept him up all night because he couldn’t handle Josh not accepting his apology. As much as Josh wanted to ignore his message, he was too curious not to comply. That’s why, twenty minutes later, Josh exited his Uber ride and made his way up to Jake’s hotel room. It was on the top floor (Jake liked to splurge as much as he could to feel more like a rockstar) and Josh was surprised to see that Jake had even gone out of his way to book an executive suite. Without thinking twice, Josh rapped on the mahogany door loudly. He could hear Jake coming on the other side of the door and then, within seconds, they were facing one another. 

“Come in,” Jake broke the silence, opening the door wider. Josh entered the hotel room slowly, keeping an eye out for any traps Jake might have set (again, he had done it before). “There’s no booby traps,” Jake sighed, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. 

“You said that last time and yet I still wound up with a tranquilizer dart in my neck,” Josh begged to differ. 

“I swear on our mom’s life,” Jake said. Josh knew he was telling the truth if he was swearing on their mom. He made his way deeper into the room and scanned around. 

“Where’s Jita?” 

“She went down to get some breakfast.”

“Oh. Is she doing okay?” 

“Yeah, she’s good.” 

They both studied the ground as the silence consumed them. Josh started to regret coming over; it was obvious that Jake wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to happen. Josh was contemplating whether or not he should prompt Jake to say something when Jake finally cleared his throat. 

“Why didn’t you accept my apology?” he finally asked. 

“Because you tried to start a fight with me,” Josh replied, taking a seat on the nice leather loveseat in the corner of the room. 

“But I apologized,” Jake leaned closer to Josh, trying to search his eyes to see where he had gone wrong. “What more do you want?” 

Josh could only shrug. He knew that he would be better off telling Jake that he did forgive him since it was plain as day that it was eating the poor guy alive, but a part of him was still pissed that Jake had even thought to argue with him, entirely unprompted. He felt it was justified that he give Jake a few more days to drown in concern and confusion. 

“Come on,” Jake groaned, “you have to tell me.” 

“No I don’t,” Josh replied. He could see that Jake’s eyes were starting to turn red as his frustration simmered to the surface. 

“Josh.” His voice was rock hard. Josh closed his eyes and sealed his mouth shut, shaking his head back and forth like a toddler. What came next, he probably should have seen coming, but it still threw him off nonetheless. “You little shit,” Jake hissed. With his eyes still closed, Josh felt Jake’s body slam into his, knocking him onto the carpet so Josh’s bare knees slid across the carpet until he was sprawled on the floor. Jake laid on top of him, heaving breaths in and out, and Josh tried to shove him off. Jake started to shove back but Josh got a good elbow in, catching him in the jaw so he cried out in pain, giving Josh the exit to tear him off. He rolled away from Jake, who was now also laying on the floor clutching at his face, and pushed himself upright. To his surprise, he found that he was laughing. Jake took a pause from wiping at his face and leaned up to look at his brother in confusion. 

“I knew you were going to do that,” Josh explained in between his hearty laughs. There was still a trace of anger left in Jake’s face but, the longer Josh laughed, the more the lines in his brow lessened. 

“You made me do it,” he softly murmured as he brushed his hair out of his face with a small grin peeking from his pursed lips. Josh continued to laugh and, pretty soon, Jake was smiling alongside him. 

“Does this mean you forgive me?” he asked with hope glimmering in his eyes. 

Josh immediately stopped laughing. 

“No.” 

3 Days

After Josh shot him down, Jake was quick to hop to his feet and threatened to tackle Josh again. Josh had never left a room faster in his life, mostly because he didn’t want his knees to get anymore battered from the carpet than they already were. For the next two days, Josh knew that, for his safety, he needed to keep a safe distance between him and Jake. They had gotten into arguments over stupider things that had lasted longer, so it didn’t bother him, but he also knew that Jake’s buttons could only be pressed so much. 

As it always happened when they got into an argument, Sam and Danny went to their designated twin to try and get information out of them to see if they could reach a peace agreement. Danny was always assigned to Jake because he could usually rationalize with him while Sam gladly took Josh since it gave them the opportunity to gossip. 

Sam and Josh were sitting in the green room, waiting for their turn to do soundcheck when Sam looked up from his phone and raised an eyebrow at Josh. 

“You wanna explain what’s going on between you and Jake?” 

“Yes,” Josh quickly replied, making Sam break out into a smile. 

“Spill.” 

“I was minding my business and he came up out of nowhere and was all in my face for no reason. So, of course I’m gonna be pissed at him and not forgive him immediately, right?” 

“Why was he mad at you in the first place?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Josh wasn’t sure he liked how exasperated he sounded. Maybe the whole thing was starting to take a toll on him. “He was just being an ass.” 

Josh threw himself back in his seat and let out a loud groan to try and earn some pity points. Sam was usually more than willing to take Josh’s side in arguments, mostly because they both agreed that it was fun to see how crimson Jake’s face could get when he was angry. He looked back at his younger brother and realized that his face was scrunched in thought. 

“Well, you actually did do something,” Sam carefully sounded out his words. It took a lot of courage for him to stand up to Josh. Josh racked his brain to think of what he could have possibly done that Sam also knew about. 

“Oh,” Josh’s face fell. 

Earlier that week, while they were driving from Nashville down to Florida, Josh had downed one too many drinks and thought it would be funny to open the tour bus window and serenade those around them who were equally stuck in traffic by playing Jake’s harmonica. The booze gave him liquid courage which meant he thought he was playing on a level that would make Phil Wiggins drop to his knees in defeat. Everyone else on the bus would tell you that he sounded like he was having a squeaky asthma attack, but they let him have his fun. That is, until his fingers, slicked in sweat from overexerting himself, lost hold of the harmonica so it clamored out the window and was promptly run over by an 18-wheeler. Jake hadn’t attacked him after he did that (probably because he was at the front of the bus with a bottle of bud in his hand, somehow gazing at nothing and everything at once) so Josh assumed he was off the hook. Apparently he wasn't. 

“Yeah,” Sam looked at Josh. “Oh.” 

Josh started to uncomfortably squirm around in his seat. So he had done something wrong, and Jake had every right to confront him about it, even if he wasn’t upfront about what the matter was. Josh had to admit that made him feel a level of guilt that he didn’t like. But he also knew that he was in too deep and couldn’t tap out. 

“You’re not going to apologize to him, are you?” Sam decided after reading Josh’s twisted expression. Josh let out a short exhale and shook his head. 

“I can’t do it.” 

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Outside the venue, Jake and Danny were hanging around near where the trucks were being unloaded. Danny watched as Jake made a pretty impressive show of kicking a rock around and then, when he had seen enough, reached down to grab the rock and chucked it off into the distance. 

“Hey!” Jake complained as he watched the rock soar out of view. 

“Have you and Josh made up yet?” Danny asked since he knew that he had Jake’s full attention. 

“No,” Jake frowned, kicking around at nothing since all the good rocks were gone. “I’m not even upset about the harmonica anymore, I just wish we could move on.” 

“You know, it wasn’t even really Josh’s fault that he dropped the harmonica,” Danny pointed out. Jake snapped his head back up to look at the drummer, arching an inquisitive eyebrow. “I don’t know if you remember, but Sam bumped into him while he was playing,” Danny continued. “That’s how the harmonica got knocked out of his hands.” 

“Leave it to clumsy Sam,” Jake mumbled. 

“He was trying to dance to Josh’s music,” Danny looked like he was reliving the scene in his head. “I think we should keep him off the tequila moving forward.” 

“That’s probably for the best,” Jake agreed. “Man, now I feel bad for being so harsh with Josh.” 

“I mean, he was touching your harmonica,” Danny pointed out. 

“I’ve let him play it before, it’s not like it’s off limits.” 

“It probably should be. He’s really bad at playing it.” 

“He’s no Papa Kiszka, that’s for sure.” 

----------------------------------------------

Josh had left Sam in the greenroom to try and get some air to clear his head. The whole thing was so juvenile. He really missed spending time with his brother, writing music and playing impromptu games of punch buggy so their arms were constantly bruised. He was the one prolonging things, which meant that he was in the driver’s seat when it came to moving forward. As Josh opened the doors to the side of the arena and felt the sun greet him, he let out a huff. The problem was, admitting to Jake that he was wrong was like a form of torture that Jigsaw could only dream of. He knew that Jake would hold it over him for the rest of his life. 

Oh wow, that’s a really nice harmonica, it reminds me of the one you dropped out our tour bus window, Josh. 

This song would sound really good with a harmonica. Too bad I don’t have one anymore. 

Congrats to my brother for marrying the love of his life. If only my harmonica could have been here to witness this beautiful matrimony as well. 

Josh couldn’t bear the thought. He could buy Jake a thousand harmonicas and it would still never be enough. He hated himself for it, but Josh rationalized that the best thing he could do was ignore the situation outright. Maybe it would fade away. 

Yesterday

Jake and Josh both had to bite the bullet and get on their tour bus so they could head up to South Carolina for their next show. They didn’t say a word to each other and Josh could see that Sam and Danny were cautiously watching them from a distance, but not intervening. It was a pleasant surprise that Jake didn’t kick the shit out of the bottom of Josh’s bed or purposefully make groaning noises all night, so he woke up in a good mood. 

While he made a strong pot of coffee, he gazed out the window at the passing trees and ruminated on the dream that had woken him up. He and Jake were both filling in for Scully and Mulder in an X-files episode and they had been tasked with solving the mystery of a man named Harrison Ford (who wasn’t the Harrison Ford) who had an unfathomable amount of chicken in his stomach. Upon reflection, the dream made no sense, but he was comforted by it in the sense that he and Jake were working closely together and, most importantly, talking to each other. 

The coffee maker started to beep and he removed the pot to fill himself a tall mug, the potent smell immediately waking him up. He turned on his heel to move to the couch in the back of the bus but stopped when he saw Jake slowly crawl out from his bed and let out a deep yawn. For a second Josh considered diving out the window to avoid his brother, but ultimately decided to turn away, looking like he was preoccupied with something. He could hear Jake’s knees pop as he stood upright and shuffled to the bathroom and slowly turned away from the wall when it seemed like the coast was clear. With Jake out of the way, it seemed like he had a clear shot to the solitude of his bunk. 

He nearly made it, but bumped straight into Jake as he walked out of the bathroom. Both of them made the same grunting noise at the contact and hopped away from one another. They both started to say sorry, but then stopped themselves. Josh studied the ground for a second, but then looked back up at his brother and was surprised to see that he was smiling. Josh couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Where’s the fire?” Jake joked in his groggy morning voice. 

“Fire? Where?” Josh pretended to look around in a frenzy. At that, Danny’s head jerked out from his bunk, his eyes wide and scanning the bus.

“There’s a fire?” His voice was shrill. 

“No, go back to sleep,” Jake gave him an apologetic smile. Danny stared between the two brothers for an awkward length of silence and then swung his curtain back shut and threw himself back against his pillows. 

“Are you feeling good about Greenville?” Josh tried to make conversation. Jake seemed caught off guard by Josh’s question and gave a half-shrug. 

“It’s been fun to play live again, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve for the rest of the show.” 

“That’s what I like to hear.” 

“How about you?” 

“I have to agree with you there, I’m feeling good.”

Their eyes met again and Jake made a small motion towards the back of the bus. 

“I was going to head back and watch some Kurosawa, wanna come?”  

“Kurosawa? Since when do you watch Kurosawa?” Josh was surprised. 

“Since I want to impress you and convince you to spend time with me,” Jake shrugged. Josh, for the life of him, couldn’t argue with that. Jake knew exactly how to get him to come back around. 

Today

Since they had a free day, the tour bus took a detour to Atlanta so the guys could check out the botanical garden and Olympic Park. Josh could tell that Sam and Danny were still being cautious around them, most likely because they had slept in so late the day before, they completely missed Jake and Josh sitting together on the back couch, enjoying Rashomon. Sure, they spent the rest of the day apart, but being close to his twin in that moment brought Josh a level of comfort that was hard to find anywhere else. 

That was why, as they stepped off the bus and started to walk towards the entrance to the gardens, Josh grabbed onto Jake’s shoulder. Jake whirled around to face him, his eyes just barely visible beneath his sunglasses, looking surprised. 

“What?” he asked. 

Josh noted that Sam and Danny were far enough ahead that they were out of earshot, and sucked in a deep breath. It was going to be hard to say, but he had to let it out. 

“Um,” he found himself stalling. 

“I’m sorry,” Jake said it before he could. 

“What?” Josh couldn’t believe his ears. “What are you sorry about?” 

“I don’t know, I’m just sorry,” Jake shrugged. 

“Well, I’m sorry too,” Josh finally felt the confidence he needed to get it out. “Your harmonica didn’t deserve to go out that way.” 

“Picking a fight with you wasn’t cool,” Jake spoke over Josh. “I should have done it to Sam, he was the one who bumped into you and caused you to drop the harmonica.” 

“Wait, Sam did that?” Josh stopped in his tracks. 

“Uh huh,” Jake said. “Danny was a narc and told me everything.” 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Josh wiggled his eyebrows first at Jake, and then ahead at Sam. Jake followed his line of sight and was quickly nodding his head. 

“Oh yeah,” he said. 

“Let’s pick a fight with Sam,” they both decided at the same time. 

Sam was about to feel the wrath of the Tauruses.

[jezmmart]

Chamomile Comic Trivia #26

#135 - Closed

The server here is my coffee day girl, a one-off pin-up character (technically a two-off one), swirls and all!

The pod she’s working in is named “It’s Bean” which is a joke only for me really. Back in high school I made a comedic RPG Maker game and - not even as a joke, I just liked the song that much, the main overworld theme was One Week by Barenaked Ladies.  Not even a tacky midi version as was the style at the time, just straight up the MP3.  The epilogue scene where you return to the main town after beating the final boss played an acoustic version I downloaded, I took it quite seriously.  So it became a sort of mini meme among my immediate friendship group after someone was like “god the music makes me laugh every time, I’ll be listening to a befitting Gerudo Valley midi while exploring the desert area or a pleasant Koopa Troopa Beach midi while exploring the seaside area and then you go back to the main town and out of nowhere “IT’S BEEN-””.

Cammie vacantly shlooourping the coffee at the end after being in severe pain beforehand - and the imagined circumstances that bridged the time between the last panel of the coffee pod scene and the first panel of the music shop scene - are one of my fave daft visual gags from over the years.

#136 - Dinner

Time to come up with Cammie’s family, what fun!  There’s always the temptation to go ironic and have them be utterly unlike her, but she’s such a beacon of positivity I just didn’t want to betray those vibes, so they’re all pretty much as full of energy or kindness as she is.  Naturally the joke is that Cammie is more interested in a dog than a relationship, but the fact that she’s uninterested in a relationship is still true to her character, not just for joking’s sake.

The general plot here was just that I wanted to do an extended christmas scene that would hopefully evoke all the cosy vibes I associate with christmas from my own family’s ones over my life.

#137 - Family

And here we see Cammie’s brothers!  There’s nothing concretely referencial here in particular but I definitely channeled memories of growing up with my own older brother and younger sister coming up with the wholesome flashbacks.  I did design everyone’s adult appearance beyond just Riley and then designed their younger selves, but unfortunately Hubert and Jay still haven’t shown up beyond these flashbacks so not for this trivia, alas!

Hubert has an Orange Squish (mentioned plenty of times in Cammie Comic trivia at this point I’m sure) soda brand pencil case, like those old 7up ones.  Do they still make those?  They probably did ones in other brands too but I had a 7up one.

#138 - Merry

Not too much to say here, naturally Cammie’s mum takes more cues from Cammie for her design, but Cammie got her curls from Dad!  Designing family members is fun, lol.

No big meaning behind anyone’s names, just chose ones I liked really that all kinda tied in with the idea of “is it easy enough to believe these people would name their child Chamomile?” lol.

#139 - While

ONE of Cammie’s family members at least had to share her trademark forehead hair swirlies, they’re cartoon characters, c’mon!  Riley here has a more subtle version of them.  Probably the only thing subtle about him.

Just a few more drips and drabs of poor Bri’s slightly turbulent childhood here, just to flesh out her and Cammie’s early relationship a bit.

Boy the speech bubbles sure are crowding everything on this one huh?  One of my bad habits with comicing that I’m trying to be more conscious of these days.  But it’s one way to make the Christmas special cosy!

#140 - Wonderful

If I was doing cosy family christmas comics I had to take the opportunity to draw a big ol’ spread of roast dinner.  Like me and any self-respecting person they have a mountain of roast potatoes, the best roast dinner food.

Grumpy Cammie is another favourite Cammie I have ever drawn.

It’s a tired old joke but, including in the previous one where it was highlighted, 12-going-on-13-year-old Cammie’s niece Jody has already entered her teenage mono-syllabic phase, with her only dialogue in the whole arc being non-verbal noises.

#141 - Desserts

A little more development for Brianna here, because I wanted to explain how someone who doesn’t seem like the sort to actively pursue such responsibility might end up running their own business.  And then another “don’t let Cammie near fire” joke of course.

The sitting room area here was (lazily, but you don’t know that), based on the layout of the sitting room at my Mum’s house back when I was in Uni, felt like the obvious choice since I associate christmasses there with the first time my partner Molly joined us.

The post-foods “just hanging out” christmas mood was an important time for me to cover as well - adults watching TV and chatting while children do things with stuff they got sort of in the vicinity.  Jody is eating a Terry’s Chocolate Orange to complete the experience, naturally!  (It’s not Terry’s though, it’s Dawn French’s Jody’s.)

[More Chamomile Comic Trivia] (Above link may not work correctly on tumblr app)    

[krenenbaker]

Savanaclaw Character Songs and Associations

Continuing with one of the most driven dorms on NRC's campus, Savanaclaw! What music may mesh with Leona, Jack, and Ruggie's characters?

Notes: Every song is from my liked songs playlist (so feel free to judge me for my taste, haha!) and I only allowed myself to use an artist once for this project. There is also some strong language and mature themes in some of the songs, so be aware if you choose to listen to them. I've included: - A song that represents them - A song they'd listen to - and (for some) an additional song, depending on the character and circumstance

The full Spotify playlist for ALL songs and characters is linked at the end of the post.

Heartslabyul | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia

Leona Kingscholar

Represented by: Glory and Gore - Lorde

Leona is, underneath his lazy exterior, an incredibly competitive and clever character. He is highly capable (if he puts in the effort), and is aggressive, but is loyal to those he chooses to be around. This song reflects that cunning, competitive Leona. He'd also definitely listen to Lorde. I'm sure of it.

Listens to: Lateralus - TOOL

Leona would love the mood, heaviness, and cleverness of prog rock, and would listen to a lot of TOOL, Dream Theater, etc. Lateralus has a unique rhythmic pattern, lyrics that seem to mean a lot but mean basically nothing, and plus, it's connected to mathematics and theory. It would be something Leona would really like to listen to while laying about. He'd find the song clever and amusing.

Jack Howl

Represented by: Heart of Gold - Neil Young

Jack is an incredibly loyal, respectful person. Though he has a tough, strong exterior, he is truly soft. He deeply cares for others at his core... even if he won't admit it. This song is similarly gentle, and akin to his loyal and genuine nature.

Listens to: Barracuda - Heart

This song is just cool. It's dynamic. It gets a person in a certain mood, feeling like you can defeat the entire world and all its injustices. Jack would 100% listen to this song, as well as other music by Heart, especially while working out. He would love the music, and would feel driven by the power and intensity of the vocals and instruments.

Ruggie Bucchi

Represented by: Ain't No Rest For The Wicked - Cage The Elephant

Ruggie is a VERY hard worker, even though it's not always by choice. This song really reflects Ruggie's worldview, worries, pride, somewhat selfish nature, and what he does to support himself and his loved ones. On the other hand, it's a very fun piece of music, which similarly reflects Ruggie's upbeat nature.

Listens to: One Week - Barenaked Ladies

One Week is upbeat, fun, and a little goofy: just the type of song that Ruggie would listen to in his spare time, or while working on something else. I think that he'd just vibe with songs by the Barenaked Ladies in general. Ruggie would also probably memorize and learn to sing this whole song (and would definitely use it to win some bets or competitions!)

[lyricposting]

fanmix myself, 2023 edition

genuinely almost can't believe i have TWO of these on here now (i do one of these every two years ish.) time really does pass huh... ANYWAY here's the link, and full tracklist under the cut, plus me rambling :) please talk to me about any of these songs my little brain will esplode

a song you like with a color in the title: forever yellow skies by the cranberries

a song you like with a number in the title: 10,000 emerald pools by børns

a song that reminds you of summertime: rain king by counting crows (literally the album of visiting my fiance the summer after i graduated college. song of joy and also freedom)

a song that reminds you of someone you would rather forget about: all the small things by blink 182 (no i don't want to talk about it)

a song that needs to be played LOUD: bulls in the bronx by pierce the veil (i'm in agony but this song is so good)

a song that makes you want to dance: genghis khan by miiike snow (obviously)

a song to drive to: one week by the barenaked ladies (specifically if you're stuck in traffic. bnl are really good at making songs that are good for listening to in really bad traffic somehow)

a song about drugs or alcohol: home again garden grove by the mountain goats (had this one on repeat for about 2 weeks straight somewhat recently)

a song that makes you happy: tunak tunak tun by daler mehndi (also had this one on repeat recently. the vibes are immaculate)

a song that makes you sad: in corolla by the mountain goats (self explanatory)

a song that you never get tired of: awake my soul by mumford and sons (this is on one of the first albums i ever bought with my own money and i still never skip it to this day. it's SO good.)

a song from your preteen years: my song from angel beats… the memories of playing minecraft on the family computer with the angel beats songs playing in the background are SO strong...

one of your favorite 80’s songs: i wanna dance with somebody by whitney houston

a song that you would love played at your wedding: run away with me adam neely cover (my fiance introduced me to this song and it's honestly one of the Very Few songs he likes that i genuinely love lmao)

a song that is a cover by another artist: BILLY COBB hide and seek (ignore that the previous song is also a cover lol. billy cobb does some of my favorite covers of all time. i've lost count of how many times i've played this, running up that hill, and linger honestly)

one of your favorite classical songs: edward elgar's cello concerto!!! specifically as played by jacqueline du pre (i'm NOT sorry for the length. listen!!!!! it's so so so so so good!!!)

a song from the year that you were born: how's it going to be by third eye blind (literally the way he shouts at the end is top vocals of all time imo)

a song that makes you think about life: the times they are a-changin by bob dylan (the first time i heard this song it was simon and garfunkel's cover and let me tell you. it fucked me up. listened to it probably 10 times in a row)

a song that has many meanings to you: wish you were here by pink floyd (song of very potent memories plus the actual song is like. woof. plus the double hit combo. you know how it is)

a favorite song with a person’s name in the title: jenny was a friend of mine by the killers (self explanatory. this song fucks.)

a song that moves you forward: hark to the music by ezra furman

a song that you think everybody should listen to: foundations of decay by my chemical romance (hello!! obviously)

a song by a band you wish were still together: tumble by stabilo (i have so many thoughts about this song it needs its own separate post also this is my favorite band that no one cares about)

a song by an artist no longer living: paradise by the dashboard light by meat loaf (my curse of getting into someone and then they die 2 years later continues with this man)

a song that makes you want to fall in love: better than by gretchen parlato (this one doesn't make me want to fall in love as much as it reminds me of a time when i was falling in love. close enough.)

a song that breaks your heart: addict with a pen by twenty one pilots

a song by an artist with a voice that you love: dead of night by orville peck (first song of his i ever heard and one of my top 3 of his still. his voice is EVERYTHING in this song, i fell in love instantly.)

a song that you remember from your childhood: i need you to love me by barlowgirl (... i have issues.)

a song that reminds you of yourself: midnight by tyler glenn (the issues strike again. genuinely cried the first time i listened to this song lol)

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Putting this behind a “keep reading” link because it’s entirely unimportant, and because I specifically said several weeks ago, several times, that I would stop discussing Daniel Kitson’s music taste.

Okay. Okay. Do you know what I think? After relatively extensive research, what I think is that Daniel Kitson doesn’t even know that much about music. When I first listened to the 2006 radio shows he did, I was really impressed by the range of artists and how they were all from different places. Anyone can get into one indie music scene, but he’d clearly found different ones from different continents and knew all these different record labels and that seemed amazing.

But I got to this thing in about the sixth episode, and I’ve now heard that episode about three times, and every time it’s bothered me. Which is that he really liked the Jeffery Lewis song that’s about Leonard Cohen’s Chelsea Hotel song, but in this episode, he mentioned that he didn’t even know the actual song. Not just that he wasn’t super familiar with it, he’d never heard it before last week. He knew Jeffrey Lewis was singing about another song, but had no idea what it was.

It was 2006, a long time ago, but he was still almost thirty. Who doesn’t know about Leonard Cohen by almost thirty? That’s one I’d expect, for lack of a better term, regular people to know. As in, I have all my mostly Canadian, some British and American and some other places, folk and country music. That’s the broad definition for the music I’m into, and there are artists within those broad genres who are really famous and anyone who’s into any part of those genres will know about them.

But at the very top of those genres, there are just a few artists that I’d assume people know about even if they’re not specifically into that type of music. Leonard Cohen is one of the few. Leonard Cohen was one of my go-tos when I was in school, if people were talking about music and asked me what I liked, and I needed to scramble to come up with an answer that they’d probably have heard of. They might not be fans of Leonard Cohen, the might think it a bit weird that I was listening to old people music, but they’d at least know who he was. Leonard Cohen, Gordon Lightfoot, and Neil Young were my top artists I could reference and assume people would know what I meant. Everyone knows those guys.

A somewhat lower hit rate, but there is a decent chance of getting the name recognized, is Bruce Cockburn. I’m not sure I could expect this outside of Canada, but in Canada, I think I could say Bruce Cockburn’s name to most people and they’d have at least heard it before. And generally, I’d consider a level of fame that’s “a decent number of people who are not specifically into folk music will know the name” equivalent to “any actual music nerd for any genre that crosses over with folk music at all should definitely know the name, and it’s weird if they don’t”.

And he didn’t know Bruce Cockburn either! He played the Barenaked Ladies’ cover of one of Cockburn’s best songs on a couple of radio shows for years, without acknowledging that it was a cover, and then one day in 2023 mentioned that the song was originally written by a man named Bruce whose last name he wasn’t sure how to pronounce. I mean, he clearly did know how to pronounce it and was just expressing confusion as an excuse to bring up the word “cock” (which is not how you pronounce it, it’s “Co-burn”), which is mildly amusing but not the sort of thing you say if you’ve known about the existence of Bruck Cockburn for more than a year. Which I can confirm, because it was funny to me for the first year or so that I was into him, and then I stopped noticing it, and for me that was the year between age 10 and age 11.

And he keeps making arguments about Loudon Wainwright being better than his son Rufus, and sometimes bringing Rufus’ sister/Loudon’s daughter Martha Wainwright into it, but frames it as arguing about who’s the best musician in that family. While never mentioning, in the many times it’s come up, that Rufus’ mother and her sister had many years as the very successful Canadian folk music duo Kate and Anna McGarrigle, and were much better than anyone else in their family. I mean, it would be fine if he disagreed that they were better. I guess it would be fine, because people are allowed to be wrong. It’s weird, however, that he clearly didn’t know they existed, or he’d have at least mentioned them when listing members of that family.

I think Kate and Anna McGarrigle are a level of fame below Bruce Cockburn – I wouldn’t assume anyone not specifically into folk music would know them, though I also wouldn’t be shocked if someone did. But they’re more famous than most of the Canadian folk singers, and certainly big enough so someone into that genre should know about them. Especially someone who clearly knows their family so well.

Russell Howard and Jon Richardson used to do this too - constantly talk on their BBC 6 Music radio show about how they were both obsessed with the great Rufus Wainwright, and sometimes they’d mention his dad. I think that may be why Kitson brings up the comparison so much in the 2006-2008 era of his radio shows - he keeps discussing the “Rufus vs. Loudon” debate as though that’s a really common argument for people to have, even though I don’t think it was a particularly common debate, I think it was just an argument you’d frequently have if you, like Daniel Kitson circa 2006, were friends with Russell Howard and sometimes mentioned to him that you preferred Loudon to Rufus.

Anyway, the point is that personally, I’m not very familiar with the work of Rufus or Loudon or Martha Wainwright, but I know who they are and I have a couple of albums by each of them, just because I’m a big fan of the McGarigle sisters, so by extension I also know their family exists, and I’ve listened to some of their stuff. That extension should work the other way. Daniel Kitson is now the third British comedian I’ve heard (as well as Jon Richardson and Russell Howard) go on about that musical family yet never mention that Rufus has a mother and she’s better than all of them. It’s a trick question, the answer to the Rufus vs. Loudon debate. A trick like in that riddle about the doctor. The best musician is actually his mother.

When I first heard Kitson’s old radio show, I assumed he must know all the major things I know about – not all my small-time Canadian folk singers but at least all the big stuff – since he knows so much more than I do about a vaguely overlapping music genre. Which is a huge logical fallacy - making the assumption that anyone who knows a lot of stuff I don’t know must also know all the stuff I do know. Because the route to knowing all the stuff I don’t know passes through knowing all the stuff I do know, right?

But seriously, pitfalls and logical fallacies aside, I don’t think it’s weird for me to have assumed he’d be familiar with the work of world-famous singer/songwriter Leonard Cohen, by the age of almost thirty, when he was really into a song about Leonard Cohen. That’s why the song about Leonard Cohen was written. Because Jeffrey Lewis was writing for an audience of the sort of people who are into Leonard Cohen, and who’d relate to his story about the time he talked to a girl about a Leonard Cohen song.

In that sixth radio episode, which I didn’t hear until several months after I’d heard the first five, Daniel Kitson said he’d only just listened to Leonard Cohen’s music for the first time, and only did so because it was the thing that the Jeffrey Lewis song was about. Then he played Leonard Cohen’s Chelsea Hotel song back-to-back with Jeffrey Lewis’ song about it, and said it’s amazing that two songs as great as that can both exist.

Which I also took issue with, because you can’t put those on the same level. I like the Jeffrey Lewis song. I don’t like it as much as I like the other Jeffrey Lewis songs that Kitson has played. The Chelsea Hotel-based one is a bit too close to the reason why I spent many years specifically saying I disliked anything labeled as “indie rock”. Because folk festivals keep bringing “indie rock” singers in, taking up spots that would otherwise go to folk singers, in an effort to draw a younger audience. But also because, according to the vague assumption I held for many years, songs that get lableled “indie rock” are just guys telling stories about how sad they were that a manic pixie dream girl didn’t sleep with them and/or stopped sleeping with them, set to a simple and un-innovative melody. Listening to those older Daniel Kitson radio shows has made me change some of my anti-indie rock prejudices, as I’ve really enjoyed a lot of the music he played, and my favourite thing I’ve discovered from his radio show has been Jeffrey Lewis. But that particular Jeffrey Lewis song is very much just one guy telling stories about how sad he was that a manic pixie dream girl didn’t sleep with him, set to a simple and un-innovative melody. With the twist that it references a Leonard Cohen song. I mean, despite this flaw it’s not a bad song. But you can’t compare it to the actual Leonard Cohen song. It’s in a different league. It’s like comparing a tribute band to the original band.

When I look at it all together, it appears that Daniel Kitson may specifically know fuck all about Canadian music. Even Canadian music of his preferred broad genre that got big enough to be internationally popular. Technically, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen evidence that he knows who Neil Young is.

I didn’t realize this until I went over the radio episodes again and wrote down all the songs in them (which I did do recently, for reasons that involve me making very productive use of my limited time on this Earth), but there isn’t even that big a range. In the 2006-2008 radio episodes, I’ve realized, this was just a guy who liked to buy local indie rock albums, discovered a few Americans, and was really obsessed with the entire country of Australia. Which is fair enough, Australia has clearly worked out for him.

When I looked at it, almost all of the interestingly international music he played was from one Australian record label. Which is fine, there’s no obligation to know about lots of music from lots of different places. A huge proportion of my music collection is from Cape Breton Island off the Canadian province of Nova Scotia, with quite a bit more being from mainland Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, and the couple of surrounding provinces. It’s just that I initially got the impression that Daniel Kitson impressively knew about all this different obscure music from all over the world, and once I look closely I realize it was really only from one place, because he liked touring there.

Anyway. I’m now almost done talking shit about the opinions of a comedian whom I hugely admire, but not quite. Last week I made a post, which I’ve now deleted because I was paranoid about it, about hearing an old Daniel Kitson recording in which he called out a specific blog on Twitter and, to my horror, Tumblr, which was about how great he is, and Kitson said he didn’t like that guy. He said that some years ago, but not enough years ago for it to not absolutely freak me out. It literally gave me nightmares, and kind of made me want to delete everything I’ve ever put on the internet and then hide under my bed for the rest of my life. Which I did think a bit about doing, but since then have calmed down a bit and decided it’s probably all right. He’s probably not still checking Tumblr. No one thinks Tumblr still exists in 2023.

But I was still a bit concerned, and weirdly, something I listened to this morning kind of broke that. I recently heard him encounter an audience member who does boxing. And he was really weird about it. Seemed very impressed with this person’s fascinatingly exotic hobby, but also concerned for their safety, and kept saying he could never do anything like that.

I forget, sometimes, how weird this sort of thing seems to anyone else. I’ve done a bit of boxing throughout my life, as when you do one combat sport you generally end up dabbling in lots of them at some point, training out of martial arts gyms and jumping into other stuff. I haven’t done much boxing, but based on his reaction I think I’ve done enough to concern him.

And it’s the logical fallacy again. It seemed so weird to me that he would be freaked out by something I do, because he does all these incredible things that I could never do, my brain just assumes anything I can do would be no big deal to him. Obviously that makes no sense in this situation, but I got so much cognitive dissonance from hearing him say boxing is some really impressive but scary thing.

And it did sort of break a little of the bit of the way I’d been freaking out at the fact that apparently sometimes Daniel Kitson goes on the internet and hates anyone on there who talks about him. Like. He’s not that intimidating. He’s scared of boxing and he didn’t know who Leonard Cohen was until he was almost thirty. I lie awake at night dreaming of having even a fraction of his ability to do what he does, but he couldn’t do what I do either. I’m way better at beating people up than Daniel Kitson is. I don’t need to be that concerned about him.

It’s completely faulty logic, makes no sense whatsoever. In terms of logic, “I don’t need to feel intimidated by how Daniel Kitson might read Tumblr and hate me, because Daniel Kitson doesn’t know as much as I do about Canadian music or combat sports” is about as rational as the time I was competing at the national championships and we had to fly there, and I’m scared of flying, but another team was also on our plane and that team is coached by this woman who’s won three Olympic medals, and I thought: “It’s fine, [woman’s name] is a famous multi-year Olympic medalist, she’s way too important to die in a plane crash going to as comparatively small a tournament - by her standards - as university nationals, so therefore, this plane won’t go down.” This is a case like that, of: sometimes irrational anxiety can be beaten by irrational explanations.

[thescrapbookingscientist]

Biweekly Media Roundup

- Trigun (Anime) - Ah yes a new hyper fixation for the month, I’ve been watching both the OG series and Stampede after being enticed by spoilers of some alien activity, something I had completely forgotten about from when I originally watched it back in middle school. I like both for different reasons, and desperately want to do a comparison of what aspects do and don’t work for each adaptation given the themes each is trying to convey. For a quick thought I would say that OG does a great job of fleshing out it’s world and central cast as interesting/likable concepts while Stampede is doing a good job expanding upon the stories philosophical arguments and humanizing (haha) the main villain. At  the moment I do prefer the original, both for it’s more likeable world and how that lends itself to the “All people deserve a chance as people will improve when offered kindness” message, but to be fair to Stampede it’s far from a finished product and it’s most recent episode has been it’s most solid yet, so we’ll see where it goes. Really hope the theory that Roberto is Milly’s father comes true, I miss her.

- Sense 8 (TV) - Finally finished Sense 8, debating on whether I’ll write up a full review ranking each characters storyline from best to worst. It definitely had it’s issues but I’m glad I watched it, the sci-fi concept was pretty unique, the various international locations and fun framing made it quite nice to look at, I appreciated the focus on the wide spectrum of sexualities, races, and identity, and in general it just had a fun cast of characters with various interesting plotlines. That being said, the main thing I’ll remember about it for awhile is how in the finale, my sister commented how surprising it was that the 2.5 hour special hadn’t featured a single sex scene in a series notorious for them, only for it to end with a 10-minute-long sex scene featuring every major character in the show intercut to look like one giant orgy, with the final shot of the entire series being a pan over to a used dildo. Wow. No notes, what a fitting end.

- Next In Fashion (TV) - “Watching” is strong word for what I’m doing with this, which is fast forwarding through to see the completed outfits at the end. Still, I do enjoy seeing what kinds of fashion people create when given specific prompts, it’s fun. I basically never agree with the judges though.

- Ranking of Kings (Anime) - Hey boy it’s me the haunted mirror from your childhood. Drink this potion made from your liquified dead father boy, It will grant you magical powers, believe me boy I would never lie to you. 

- Gintama (Anime) - Yup.

- Welcome to Demon School! (Anime) - Weekly dose of wholesome fun, does a great job at making me love every single character.

- Last Week Tonight (TV) - We’re back! The story on AI awareness about killed me, I think more company's should employ robots that try to convince customers to leave their wives for them. 

- The S Classes That I Raised (Webcomic) - Yup.

- Persona 5 Royal (Video Game) - Very funny to me that no less than 5 of the ladies confident storylines revolve around rekindling their connection with a close female friend. It’s like the writers were like hmm, so what is something women love in which they’ll base their entire lives around? I got it. Other women. Like based my dude but there are other women-centric stories out there. Also, if you’re gonna feed me all these wlw you gotta stop cockblocking me in my attempts to date Yusuke.

As usual I’m also keeping up with The Greatest Estate Developer, Land of the Lustrous, The Vampire Dies In No Time, and Buddy Daddies.

Listening to: I Really Want To Stay At Your House cover by Lunity, Brutal by Olivia Rodrigo, TOMBI by Kvi Baba, My Kind by Hilary Duff, This Is Not a Party by The Wombats, Odds Are by Barenaked Ladies, Nothing is Going Right by Meiyo, Snakes by PVRIS, The Sound by The 1975, Rule #4 by Fish in a Birdcage, They’re Only Human cover by Annapantsu, Kiss Me, Son of God by They Might Be Giants, Still Feel by Half-Alive, My Eyes by Neil Patrick Harris

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fact or Fiction

Warnings: non-consent (fingering, toys, anal, vaginal, somniphilia)

This is dark!Ransom and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your publisher has died and now you must deal with new management

Note: This came to me out of no where but it was a ride yall. I wanted to write some somniphilia so get ready for some sleep action. Remember to read the warnings my guys and enjoy yourselves. Another double dick fic day.

Sidenote: it is a bit odd to write smut when your bf is listening to barenaked ladies lol

Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

It was funny how things could change in such a short time. More often, it was tragic. Deep in your gut, you had the feeling this change would be the latter. 

You stood in the elevator, counting the floors in dread. A month ago, you felt much differently on your ascent. That was a day full of hope. A young writer on your way to meet THE Harlan Thrombey, manuscript in hand. You’d left even more jubilant than you arrived. He loved it and hadn’t shied away from saying so.

Now he was dead and you feared so too were your hopes of a published book. This day you were to meet with another Thrombey. Ransom Drysdale, his grandson, had inherited the company to the surprise and chagrin of many, including his very own uncle. 

You couldn’t disagree with Walt. Everyone, especially him, expected him to take Harlan’s place. But he didn’t and he was gone now, buried in resent and jealousy. None had seen him since the funeral. Or so you heard. The publishing business could be almost as dramatic as its fictions.

Top floor, you stepped out and were surprised to find that Deb, the former grey-haired receptionist, had been replaced with another. Younger, blonder, and more concerned with her cellphone than the ding of the elevator. You walked up to her round desk and waited for her to look up. She didn’t.

You cleared your throat.

“Hello, I have a one o’clock with Mr. Drysdale,” You said. She nodded and giggled at her phone. “Excuse me…” You looked around and found a rose gold name placard. “...Selina.”

“Fine, go on,” She shrugged. “No one’s in there. Knock first.”

You sighed and glanced around. There were a few editors you recognized from before and they peered over at the receptionist with open detest. You passed her perch and wove between the desks. You assumed, knowing you wouldn’t get an answer from the oblivious blonde, that Ransom had claimed his grandfather’s former office. The letters printed across the clear glass door assured you. That was new too.

You knocked on the frame, afraid to shatter the door. Ransom was squinting at his monitor and didn’t even look over as he waved you on and called to you. 

“Come in.” He shook his head as he huffed at the screen. You entered nervously. “What is it this time?”

“Mr. Drysdale,” You greeted, “I’m here for our appointment.”

His brows drew together as he looked up. He hit a key and turned to you. He sat back in his leather chair as he leaned on the arm. 

“Uh, yeah,” He blinked as he lazily reached over and grabbed a manuscript from the pile atop his desk. “Laura?”

You corrected him and he fished out the proper print and sat up. He opened it but didn’t even pretend to read a single word on the page. He smiled as he shifted closer to his desk.

“Close the door,” He said. “Sit. This shouldn’t take long.”

That didn’t sound good. You did as he said and took the stiff seat across from him. The former cozy leather had been replaced with cold acrylic. He tapped his fingers on the pages and ran his tongue beneath his bottom lip.

“Well, seeing as we’re doing a bit of redecorating around here, we decided to do the same with our writers. Streamline, prioritize,” He began. “My grandfather was a smart man, talented author, but he valued ‘style’ too much over ‘marketability’.”

Your chest tightened and you tried not to show your discomfort.

“Of course,” You said. “It makes sense. New owner, new directions. I understand.”

“Oh, great,” He smirked. “Then you also understand that the contract my grandfather, god rest his soul, promised you, must be reviewed before we go through with the signing?”

“Review?” You frowned.

“It’s the same for all our new writers,” He assured you. “My editors are combing over every word of your manuscript before we throw the ledger across the table.”

“He already read my manuscript, your editors too. I don’t--”

“He’s dead and most of his editors are gone or have taken on new responsibilities,” He interjected. “As you said, new directions.”

“Alright.” You sighed. “And so when will I be informed of the results of this review?”

He tilted his head, amused by your tone as he leaned back once more. He grabbed a pen and tapped it on his lip as he thought.

“Couple weeks.” He said.

“A couple weeks? I’ve already waited over a month for a contract. Now I get the circumstances required it, as tragic as they were, but with all due respect, your offer isn’t the only one I have on this manuscript.” You argued.

“Lesser publishers, no doubt, but you understand that under our submissions guidelines, you cannot accept an exterior deal until we have made an official decision.” He countered. “So, you can wait the three weeks before you march down to Penguin or whatever lowbrow manufacturer you’ve been talking with.”

You stared at him. He was very much unlike his grandfather. Harlan, for all his accomplishments, had an air of humility. Ransom, for all he hadn’t achieved, was entirely arrogant.

“So, you’re holding my book hostage?” You asked.

“I’m allowing you an opportunity provided you have patience,” He returned. “I could say no right now and send you out without a hope of ever signing with us.”

The curve of his lips irked you, along with the loose weave of his sweater. He didn’t dress like the owner of a publishing house; he dressed like a spoiled frat boy. You were quiet as you thought about the much lower offer from Charter books. Modest but respectable. And there were many companies who you had yet to approach.

You stood suddenly and marched over to his desk. You reached over and slid your manuscript across the desk and closed it. You gathered it up and tucked it under your arm.

“I’ll take the no over your games, Mr. Drysdale.” You said as your heart beat wildly. This was either a moment you’d deeply regret or gloriously relive. “I hardly see how sitting on a stack of books will help your profitability.”

He blinked and his smirk fell. Then he scoffed and tossed his pen down.

“Well, you sure are saving me a lot of work,” He mused. “One less pile of kindling hanging around will save my editors hours.”

“Mr. Drysdale,” You said as you backed away from him “I may not have inherited an empire but I think I can see as clear as any that you are out of your depth behind that desk.”

A glimmer of anger broke through his facade and his jaw ticked. He was quick to reclaim his maddening smirk and he shrugged.

“You’re right,” He remarked. “You’re just a writer. Unpublished, at that.”

You nodded and swallowed the insult. You spun and swept back through the door, certain to leave it open. You strode past the reception as she watched some Insta story on a new eye shadow palette. Even Harlan’s name couldn’t atone for buffoonery.

🖊️

Charter Books wasn’t far from Blood Like Wine Publishing. For the second time that week, you were in the heart of the business district. You were tired of waiting. If Charter wanted to publish your work without fanfare, you would take it over waiting on a whim. 

Charles Halford was expecting you and as was your habit, you were early. The building didn’t bring you the same joy as Blood Like Wine had, though now that you thought of it, any such optimism had disappeared. You would settle and hope that this was a back road to a mighty second book. If your luck was to take an upturn, it might even be a sleeper hit.

You were directed to sit along the small line of chairs outside Halford’s office. You balanced your manuscript on your knee as you waited. You fidgeted impatiently and hoped the offer was still open. The email had seemed hopeful and that a meeting was scheduled on such short notice was heartening.

You looked up as the door finally opened. Your heart dropped at the man who stepped out. Ransom’s eyes caught yours as he turned back to Halford and tossed some quip at him. His forced laughter turned your stomach. The men were chummy; too chummy. Was this foreshadowing?

“Anyway, I should get back to it,” Ransom announced. “Figured I’d swing by. Get a few pointers.”

“I’m sure you’ll be back for more,” Charles boomed. “Remember, left to right.”

Ransom rolled his eyes and shook Halford’s hand. He turned and winked at you as he left, a cheery farewell to the receptionist. Halford perked up as he noticed you and distracted you from the unease that bubbled in your stomach.

“Early as always,” He said. “Come on in. We’ll get started.”

“Thanks,” You stood and he gestured you ahead of him. 

You entered his office and waited for him to sit before you did. He dug around for his copy of your manuscript and turned back to you. He didn’t open it as he plopped it on his desk.

“So, you’re still looking for a buyer, huh?” He asked.

“Well, you know there’s so many options,” You said. “I wanted to go somewhere my book fits.”

“Of course, and it’s a great concept,” He replied. “Really… but…”

“But…” You took a breath.

“Well, you know, we’ve had time to think too and we’re more akin to easy reads. Our clientele, they want something simple, straightforward. You have clever prose and intricate devices but… well, that’s not really who we’re selling to.”

“I don’t understand,” You said. “What changed? You made an offer and suddenly it’s just… gone?”

“Look, there’s lot of publishers out there who would be a better match I’m sure and in this era, self-publishing is growing.”

“A publishing house suggesting self-publishing?” You shook your head and stood. You were numb. “I can read between the lines as well as you can, Mr. Halford. Thank you for considering me. I won’t waste your time if you’ve made up your mind.”

“Hey,” He rose and reached across the desk. “There’s always the next book. Maybe one day, we’ll have a chance to work together.”

“I hope so,” You said as you swallowed the bitterness. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out this time,” He said.

“It’s… business.” You sniffed. “I get it.”

🖊️

Charter, Storey, Hackett. Every no made the prospect of a yes even less likely. Your future stared back at you with paid online articles and ridiculous blurbs. It was a living, a meagre one, but it wasn’t your dream. It was starting to seem like a nightmare.

Another rejection and you were ready to burn the damn manuscript. You marched into the lobby that fronted Lucian LLC. You just wanted to go home but if you did that, you’d just sit and sulk as you had for days before. So instead you followed the scent of roasted beans into the coffee shop along the east side of the lobby.

You ordered a skinny latte and found a table in the corner. You dropped the heavy print on the table before you set down your stemmed mug and flopped onto the chair. You leaned your elbows on the table and rubbed your forehead. A cup clinked across from yours and you sat up, startled by the figure before you.

“Long day?” Ransom asked.

You looked around confused.

“What?” You replied. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was walking by actually and I saw you through the window. Almost didn’t recognize you but… you look… tired.” He smirked and you rolled your eyes. “And I saw that manuscript in front of you and thought maybe we could have another chat.”

“I don’t want to talk about you reviewing my book until you decide you don’t want it,” You hissed. 

“Okay, well, what if I told you we could have a yes or no by the end of our discussion, hmm?”

You squinted at him and ran your fingertips down the side of the hot mug. 

“Why?”

“Why?” He repeated coyly.

“What changed your mind?”

“Look, can I help it that I feel a little bad about how it all turned out? Seeing you here, sulking, it really got to me.” He feigned pity.

“I wasn’t sulking,” You insisted. “I was taking a breather between all my meetings. There’s a lot of interest over my book.”

“Is there?” He pulled out the chair opposite you and sat. “Because I made a few calls and I’m pretty sure there isn’t.”

“You what?”

“A lot of people don’t wanna snatch a book out from under the Thrombey stamp,” He explained. “And as far as I’m concerned, we didn’t finish our negotiations.”

You chewed the inside of your lip and considered him. There was a twinkle in his eye. This man would make himself the bane of your existence until he could declare himself the victor. As it was, he might actually be the only prospect you had left.

“Fine. I guess I’m here already. If you want to talk, let’s talk,” You said. 

His eyes sparked as they had back in his office. 

“Alright,” He began tersely, “May I?”

He pointed to your manuscript and you slowly slid it over to him. He turned it and opened it. He bent over it dramatically as he read. You waited as he glossed over a few pages and sat up.

“Promising. I said so to the editors but you understand that it’s not all up to me.” He said. “It’s not that I don’t wanna publish you, I’m just being cautious. This company is my legacy.”

“It’s your grandfather’s legacy,” You affirmed. 

He bit his tongue and blinked. He took a breath before he continued.

“Whatever,” He said. “It is my company now and I have to keep it alive. That means making smart decisions. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I’m just a writer.” You shrugged.

He sighed and reached for his mug. He dribbled a little down his chin and onto his blazer. He swore as he looked down and set his cup back on the table.

“Could you grab some napkins?” He asked. “Shit.”

“Napkins?” You repeated. You knew he was the type to have help but you were not looking to be his nanny.

“Please,” He said sharply as he held up his wet hand. “If you don’t mind.”

You slid out of your chair and grumbled as you crossed the cafe. You pulled out a dozen serviettes from the dispenser and returned to him. You dropped them on the manuscript and he grabbed them impatiently. He wiped up the coffee and left the napkins crumpled beside his cup.

You lifted your own, the foam entirely flat now, and took a sip. The espresso was strong and your cheek twitched. You set it down as you tried not to cough. The caffeine further addled your nerves.

“So what exactly are you offering?” You asked.

“I went over my grandfather’s notes and spoke with my team. It wasn’t all impractical. We can honour the printing terms but may have to tinker with the numbers…” He began and you nodded.

You listened intently as he went over his points and referred to your manuscript several times, flipping pages back and forth. He suggested a sex scene to liven it up but that didn’t really fit the motif of a medieval mystery set in a monastery. That disagreement didn’t last long as he plowed through his terms.

As you listened, you sipped and your head began to ache from the excess of caffeine. Three coffees a day would do that to you. Your stomach flurried as well and you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. You left the dregs of your latte untouched and touched your stomach.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Drysdale…”

“Ransom,” He corrected.

“Sorry but… uh, I don’t feel very well.” You said. “I think… I hate to do this but I think maybe we should reschedule.”

“Well, there’s not much else to say. I’m sure you could give me an answer before you race off.” He stood as you did. 

You leaned heavily on the table and grabbed your manuscript. You took your bag and groaned. 

“Really, I feel… sick.” You said. “I gotta go.”

“Wait, wait,” He followed as you stumbled past him. You weren’t sure what was happening. Maybe it was the leftovers you ate for dinner last night. “You okay?”

“F-fine,” You shook your head to ward off the haze at the edge of your vision. You checked your phone. “Look, I gotta catch the bus.”

“You sure you can handle that?” He was overly concerned for a man who had as good as laughed you out of your office. “I can drive you.”

“Why would you do that?” You stopped just outside the building.

“Because you’re sweating a lot and I think it’d be a lot quicker to drive than to wait around for transit,” He said. “But hey, your call.”

You stared at him and your head pulsed. You touched your forehead and nodded. “S-sure,” You accepted. “Thanks.”

“Hey, we’ll just take it out of your final offer,” He kidded.

🖊️

Ransom

She barely buckled her seat belt before she was out. She slumped in the seat and thumped against the door at the first corner. Ransom hadn’t expected it to take effect so soon but she had downed her latte quickly. 

When she got up to grab the napkins, he sprinkled the foam with the powder and quickly sat back. The idea hadn’t occurred to him until he spotted her through the glass. The drugging, that was. The thought of what he would do to her had played over in his mind since their first meeting. He couldn’t just let a writer walk all over him like that. He was in charge now.

He glanced over at her as he pulled up his long drive. She was still out like a light. He had to admit, she wasn’t a great beauty but she had a charm about her. And she was perfect to test out his toys on. 

He got out and rounded the car. He opened her door and undid her seatbelt. Her bag and manuscript flopped onto the floor as he lifted her. He closed the door with his foot and carried her up the short walk. She was entirely limp. Completely helpless. He smiled.

He took her to the basement. It had taken more than a year but it was finally ready. Oh and what timing. It was like she was sent to him, just asking for punishment. Her trite little mouth had earned her more than a place on the scholarly blacklist. He had to make sure she paid.

He set her down on the velvet couch and undressed her a piece at a time. He fondled her chest as he bared it and sucked on her nipples just a little. She didn’t move at all. He checked her breathing and carried on. 

When she was naked, he played with her cunt. Spread her legs and poked his fingers inside as he looked her over. She was so tight his cock throbbed at the thought of her walls around him.

He lifted her from the couch and carried her to the special contraption he’d designed himself. He laid her over it on her stomach. The angled board had her ass raised and her legs dangling off the end. He secured her wrists and ankles with the straps to keep her from slipping. He wasn’t worried about resistance.

He moved her hips just slightly and reached under her to spread her pussy. He positioned her clit against the little bump beneath the leather. He took the remote in hand and turned the vibe on. The buzz filled the room and he watched her cunt quiver. He dragged his fingers along it and felt her arousal. She came within minutes.

He walked around her as he thought of what to do to her next. He wheeled over the machine in the corner. He carefully lined up the dildo with her pussy. He pushed it inside of her an inch at a time. He made her take all of it; a whole eight inches of rubber. She didn’t flinch though her breath shuddered. 

He neared her side and lifted her eyelid. He only saw the white as she remained entirely unaware. He rubbed himself through his jeans and turned the vibe up and hit the button for the machine. The dildo moved in and out of her as the device whirred quietly. Her cunt made wet sounds as she was fucked helplessly. 

He went behind her and watched it go in and out. He dialed it up just a little, her body jolting a little from each thrust. He tucked the remote in his pocket and strolled close to her head. He undid his pants and pulled his throbbing dick out. He rubbed it against her lips and smeared his pre-cum around her mouth.

He delved inside as he glanced back to the dildo. He held her head in one hand as his other dove into his pocket and increased the speed yet again. He began to rock his hips and soon kept time with the rubber. He sank so deep into her throat that she choked and her body spasmed. Still she didn’t wake and he could barely stop himself from cumming.

He pulled his cock out of her mouth and a trail of spit dribbled from her lips. He went to the machine and removed it from her glistening cunt. The leather-bound board was soaked with her cum already. It sent a thrill through him and his cock twitched. He growled and turned away as he resisted the urge to fuck her right away.

He went to the chest of drawers and opened it. He pulled out a bottle of lube and clear glass plug. He should start small, he told himself, but he wanted to see her stretch for him. He wanted her to feel him tomorrow.

He crossed to her and squirted the lube between her cheeks. He massaged it over her hole and mixed it with her natural juices. She was so wet he wasn’t sure he even needed the lube. He dipped his fingers inside her pussy a few times before he returned his attention to her ass.

He poked his index finger inside of her. She definitely was unused. He played with her and added another finger and then a third. She quivered as the vibe had her cumming yet again. He peeked up at her to make sure once more that she was still asleep. He didn’t need to be so paranoid. The pills would even have him out for the count.

He pulled his fingers from her ass and positioned the plug against her tight ring. He began slowly, pressing it just until she began to open and then retreating. He paused as he reached to stroke himself. He was so hard it hurt. 

He kept on, each time her hole gaped just a little more around the plug. At its widest breadth, he heard a sleepy grumble escape her. He pushed it just a little more and it slipped in all the way. Her ring closed around its stem and he thought he would cum just at that sight.

He shuddered and calmed himself. He grabbed his cock and tapped the tip against the flat end of the plug. He guided it down along her folds and felt the vibration ripple through him as he brushed against the hidden vibe. He angled himself up to her entrance and held himself there.

He wiggled the plug and slammed into her as hard as he could. Her legs jolted and he thrust again with just as much force. He wanted her to feel it, even in her subconscious. He wanted her to suffer. He picked up a rhythm, violent and frantic as her cunt clung to him. She came and he grunted as he fought to restrain his own climax.

He gripped the plug and pulled it out slowly only to press it back in. He did it again and again as he fucked her. His heavy breaths swirled around him as he watched her asshole gape. He was on fire, desperate for release.

He stopped and removed the plug entirely. He held it by the stem and held it against her back as he slipped his cock out of her cunt. He eagerly entered her ass with a rumble. She was still so fucking tight. He lost it. He fucked her so hard, his special toy shook beneath her. 

His voice got louder and louder as he every thrust sent a ripple through him. He snarled and pulled out suddenly. He stroked his cock as he rubbed the tip along her ass and spilled himself down her thigh. He would have to wait to cum inside her.

He let out a shaky breath as he let go of his cock. He pushed the plug into her ass again and backed away. He left the vibe on as he paced around the room and cracked his neck. A couple minutes and he’d be ready for another go. Maybe he could cum in her mouth this time. That was easy enough to clean up.

🖊️

You awoke with a start. You sat up on your couch and looked around your empty apartment. You winced as you felt an ache in your ass; your cunt too. You hissed and touched yourself gingerly. You glanced down; you wore the same clothes and there was nothing amiss but the thrum in your core.

You shook your head and rubbed your eyes. You could barely remember leaving the cafe but how had you ended up back here? You only remembered the headache and the horrible stomach ache.

You reached for your phone and found several notifications across the lock screen. Foremost was the email from Blood Like Wine Publishing. You opened it and quickly read through it.

‘...I am excited to work with you on your first novel and the company is eager to see this through to its greatest potential.

Hope you feel better and look forward to our meeting next Wednesday,

Ransom Drysdale Editor-in-Chief Blood and Wine Publishing’

You stare at the email in confusion. Had you said yes? Ransom offered you a drive home… then it was all black but you must’ve come to some agreement. You must have found your way into your apartment and passed out on the couch. So why didn’t you remember any of that?

[gregglatz]

My permanent accessory

Alcohol, my permanent accessory Alcohol, a party-time necessity Alcohol, alternative to feeling like yourself Oh alcohol, I still drink to your health [Chorus] I love you more Than I did the week before I discovered alcohol –– The Barenaked Ladies

Alcohol helps … until it doesn’t

Drinking problems are tricky. Most people with a drinking disorder (alcohol use disorder or AUD) do not fit the stereotype of a blackout drunk. They work, play, and live like everyone else. They are intelligent, conscientious, funny, and fun to be around, often unusually so. What sets them apart from people who don’t have AUD is that not drinking makes them feel terrible. Alcohol withdrawal symptoms can begin just a few hours after the last drink and include anxiety, poor sleep/insomnia, headaches/migraines, nausea and vomiting, restlessness and agitation, rapid heartbeat, sweating, hallucinations, and tremors. Drinking alleviates the withdrawal symptoms and makes it easier to relax, be more comfortable around others, engage in intimacy, etc. So, from a short-term perspective it feels good to keep drinking. However, the cost of feeling good is dependence on a substance that will take its toll on a person’s physical and mental health and social and financial well being.

The cost of feeling good

In addition to the unpleasant short-term effects of alcohol withdrawal, the long-term consequences of AUD include liver damage/failure, atrial fibrillation, cardiac arrest, bone deterioration, cancer, diabetes, diseases related to vitamin B1 deficiency (including dementia), anxiety, depression, weight gain, job loss, financial insolvency, relationship failure, and increasing isolation from people who don’t join you in disordered drinking. If any of this sounds familiar, have an honest conversation with yourself and with a friend, therapist, or doctor about how much you’re drinking and (more importantly) why you’re drinking. AUD is not a moral failure, personal weakness, or problem you need to hide from others. It's a disorder. You need and deserve treatment and support.

How to stop drinking

AA can help. Need another approach? Check out ...

Allen Carr's EasyWay to quit drinking books, including The Easy Way for Women to Quit Drinking and The Illustrated Easy Way to Stop Drinking. Nikki Glaser (VIDEO) successfully used this approach.

The Sinclair Method. Check out Roy Eskapa, The Cure for Alcoholism: The Medically Proven Way to Eliminate Alcohol Addiction. Claudia Christian (VIDEO) successfully used this approach.

The Alcohol Experiment aka This Naked Mind. Developed by Annie Grace (VIDEO), This Naked Mind works by ending the conflict between your conscious desire to drink less, and your subconscious belief that alcohol is beneficial. At 35, Annie Grace was in a global C-level marketing role, responsible for 28 countries. Drinking close to two bottles of wine a night, her professional success came at a personal price she no longer wanted to pay. Grace preaches compassion, knowing its power over shame and blame is the best way to achieve lasting change.

Please be careful

If you experience withdrawal symptoms (see above) when you don't drink, you have a physical dependence on alcohol. Withdrawal symptoms can be severe, and in some cases life-threatening, so unsupervised detox is dangerous. If you want to get past your physical dependence on alcohol, have an open and honest conversation with a qualified healthcare professional. Make sure you have the resources you need in place to detox safely.

AUD and in a relationship?

If you have AUD and you're in a relationship, be upfront with partners about your disorder. Do the same with family and friends that are important to you. Let them know if/how you're addressing your disorder. Let them know the impact your disorder will have on your relationship with them. Give them mental and emotional space to decide how and if they can cope with being in a relationship with someone with AUD. Build the supportive, judgement-free space you need by finding the people who accept you with AUD. Let go of the ones who don't. Do not feel shame, guilt, or anxiety if they can't accept your disorder. Do not make them feel shame, guilt, or anxiety if they can't accept your disorder. Some people will stick with you. Others, it’s better for you and them if they don’t.

Love/like someone with AUD?

If you love/like someone with AUD, start with a reality check. If the person you love/like is not addressing their AUD, they will either be intoxicated, hungover, in withdrawal, dealing with the mental and physical effects of long-term alcohol misuse, or experiencing several of these conditions simultaneously. You will play a secondary role to alcohol in that person’s life. Most/all activities you do with that person will involve drinking. If the drinking stops, the relationship will lose momentum. If you directly or indirectly make them feel their drinking is under scrutiny, the relationship will probably end, sometimes without warning or discussion.

A person with untreated AUD is mentally and physically dependent on alcohol. That dependency may cause the person to push away or run away from anyone (including you) they perceive as a threat to their drinking. This can create a codependency, where you become an enabler by ignoring their AUD in hopes of keeping the relationship intact, and the person with AUD deems you "safe" and intensifies the relationship with you. You may feel the rush of being needed/wanted by someone so much. However, insobriety does NOT provide a foundation for a healthy relationship, no matter how “intoxicating” the relationship feels. Things a person says or does under the influence may be regretted or not even remembered when that person is sober.

This may leave you feeling used and possibly abused. This is understandable, but if you develop a martyr complex, this is a clear sign you have a boundary problem. You have likely compromised your time and energy in hopes of an outcome that wasn't realistic, not discussed, and not agreed to. Put your concerns and expectations on the table. Have you even discussed concerns about alcohol use? Be prepared for the person with AUD to be in denial, or to feel you have completely misunderstood their reality. If you're convinced the problem is there, you may have to agree to disagree and part company. If you think you got it wrong, don't ignore further signs that say you got it right. If the person acknowledges AUD, do you expect the person to get sober ... immediately, eventually? Do you expect the person to be in recovery? Can you accept relapses? Can you accept how the person's withdrawal symptoms might negatively impact their behaviour towards you? Are you prepared to accept any disabilities or chronic illnesses that develop as a result of long-term AUD? Be honest with yourself. Be honest with the person with AUD. Be prepared to adjust your expectations to reflect what is reality for a person with AUD, rather than thinking that person can change reality to meet all your expectations. If you can’t live with adjusted expectations, leave the relationship. That is kinder than placing your unhelpful expectations on a person with AUD.

Another sign that you have a boundary problem is a Messiah complex: the erroneous belief that you can "fix" the person with AUD. You cannot cure them. You have no ability to make a person deal with their AUD. You have no right to make them feel shame, guilt, or anxiety for having AUD. Trying to be someone’s savior means you’re making their recovery about you, not them. This is not what a person with AUD needs.

Set healthy boundaries for yourself, respect the boundaries of the the person with AUD, and provide encouragement, a listening ear, and your presence when needed. Speak the truth in love. Be prepared to face the truth, even when it hurts. You may lose the person you love/like to alcohol, or not. Either way, the outcome is ultimately out of your hands and you need to be “okay” with this uncertainty if you stay in the relationship. (There are uncertainties in every relationship.)

If you struggle with setting boundaries, it might be helpful to explore treatment for Codependency or Dependent Personality Disorder.

Need support from others in your situation? Check out Al-Anon for help in maintaining your mental and emotional sobriety while in a relationship with someone with AUD.

Facts on Alcohol Use Disorder (Mayo Clinic).

[funkyjunkyfangz]

I posted 3,522 times in 2021

172 posts created (5%)

3350 posts reblogged (95%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 19.5 posts.

I added 834 tags in 2021

#deltarune - 175 posts

#gorillaz - 121 posts

#will wood - 96 posts

#danny elfman - 84 posts

#oingo boingo - 82 posts

#tma - 63 posts

#friend art - 58 posts

#invader zim - 58 posts

#long post - 49 posts

#ask - 48 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#anyways. my least favorite song ever is one week by barenaked ladies not because i hear it a lot or whatever but because i was introduced t

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

hello tumblr

72 notes • Posted 2021-11-20 23:00:42 GMT

#4

michael when there's a distortion idk never listened to tma

87 notes • Posted 2021-05-26 19:42:54 GMT

#3

insert song lyric here

93 notes • Posted 2021-01-15 22:42:29 GMT

#2

the aquabats could say the dumbest shit and i'd be down. they could be like "oo oo yea yea i learned to breathe underwater now all the fishies in the ocean are my best friend oh yea yea *the loudest noise a person could ever come up with making*" and i would be like yea. yea you did

109 notes • Posted 2021-11-28 05:29:23 GMT

#1

anyways i really like the "let's gouge out our eyes and make out" thing we got going on so i mage this

original image under the cut

145 notes • Posted 2021-06-05 03:55:56 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[midnightswaltz]

Rules: Answer 30 questions and tag 5 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better. @swaps55 said anyone can play so I’m playing. I haven’t quite kept up with who’s done it, but I’m tagging my friend @dieseldaisy and anyone else who wants to. 

Name/Nickname: Beth

Gender: Female

Star sign:  Aries

Height: Depends on the day apparently. Either 5′6″ or 5′7″. At least twice it was 5′8″. All without shoes on. Most at doctor’s offices.

Birthday: April

Time:~2:45p

Favorite bands: Barenaked Ladies, Of Monsters and Men, Green Day, Barenaked Ladies, Queen. Did I mention Barenaked Ladies? (Seriously, BNL have been my favorite band since middle school)

Favorite solo artist: I really don’t know. I listen to a lot of Dido.

Song stuck in my head: Critical Role C2 opening theme

Last Movie: I rewatched The Martian a couple days ago

Last show: Does Critical Role count? If not, I was watching old Mythbusters episodes last week.

When did I create this blog: March 2012

What do I post: Pretty much anything that makes me go “Wow” or laugh. So it’s a lot of random stuff

Last thing I googled: umm... I’m not going to give a clear answer. Only to say that a certain grayasexual sometimes fanfic writer is currently figuring out 2 PwPs for the first goddamn time in like 30 years of writing.

Other blogs: I can barely keep up with this one...

Why I chose my url: There’s no deep meaning. It was something I picked randomly years before Tumblr and I’ve just stuck with it because I like it.

Following: 340

Followers: 239, I’m pretty determined about blocking bots though there might be a few I missed

Average hours of sleep: the last few months I’ve been getting really good sleep 6-8 hours. There were a couple years there where it was 3-4 hours in the afternoon and 3-4 at night, it was not great. I don’t know why it’s better now.

Lucky number: 7

Instrument: I know a tiny bit of piano. I have a guitar and flute, both of which I keep intending to learn how to play

What am I wearing: Starfleet Academy T-shit, jeans and a Vox Machina hoodie

Dream job: Astronomer. Seriously. Since I was little. I just had a lot of issues with school and my mental health (anxiety and probably ADHD) so I’m about 20 years behind.

Dream trip: I’d need like a year and an insane amount of money to just wander all over the globe. Including visiting every U.S. National Park and my relations in the UK.

Nationality: American

Favorite Song: "Odds Are” by the Barenaked Ladies

Last book read: Finished? I don’t actually remember. I’m currently reading “Wizard of Earthsea” & “Steering the Craft” both by Ursula K. LeGuin and “Night Sky with the Naked Eye” by Bob King

Top three fictional universes I’d like to live in: 1: Star Trek 2: Mass Effect 3: Leverage (a universe where rich people actually get punished for doing bad shit? Hell yeah. Also the creator said he thinks Leverage is in the Stargate universe, so I’m good with that, too)

[midnightactual]

@mysteriousshopkeeper submitted:

“Yoruichi-san! I’m glad I caught you. I… thought you might be on a beach somewhere by now, since you just hosted a significant holiday party. In any case…” His fingers were idly tapping on something clasped between them as a subtle change came over his demeanor, like curtains being drawn open. “There are some… things I’ve been meaning to say. And considering my track record… I thought it best to let someone else say them.” His hands moved forward, and before she could object, he’d captured one of hers and pressed his gift into it.

Once she’d unwrapped it, she’d find herself holding a vintage, authentic Sony Walkman WM-D6C, in perfect working order, pre-loaded with a cassette – not just any commercial label, no, no – but a genuine, bona fide, old-fashioned mixtape. He’d invested considerable time and effort in selecting songs that suited his sentiments, first building a playlist on Spotify. He hadn’t even known all of them before he started searching, but he certainly did know them when he heard them. A tentative smile encroached on his lips. “At first it didn’t have tangible form, but as you can imagine, it proved difficult to wrap, so… I made this.”

The exercise had presented him with a delicate balance to maintain. His relationship with Yoruichi was… complicated. Lately, he’d come to the reluctant realization that what he’d been giving her was not what she needed from him, at least not here, not now.  But disillusionment had proven a sticky, time-consuming process. Would-have-beens and could-yet-bes clung like lint to an old sweater; every time he looked, he found more, and some were nearly indistinguishable from the knit. He’d begun the process at the outset of what had become an unexpectedly eventful couple of weeks, but it had been time well-spent; the effort had had a clarifying — and surprisingly calming — effect. Each day was a process of refining and crafting, loosely following a rubric laid out in a movie he’d seen once. As a finishing touch, he’d even added liner notes, just to arrange specific lyrics into a unified narrative. The result was a musical, emotional journey that moved through a spectrum of humor, introspection and encouragement.

Because there was still, at the base of it all, that deep and abiding foundation of their friendship. The pedestals and shrines he’d erected in her honor weren’t serving either of them; it was time for a little iconoclasm, a little restructuring.  Perhaps they could begin afresh and he would, again, be dependably her friend. He was aware that this playlist may not reflect her musical tastes, but it wasn’t so much about winning her heart as revealing his —she’d long deserved that much from him. Besides — at this point, what had he to lose? He’d quit castles in the sky for solid ground.

“Happy birthday, Yoruichi.” His face met hers with a soft, bright smile. “If you go, you’ll have something to take with you. And if my company would be welcome…” And here, the smile grew a bit dubious. “—I’d offer to go with you. I’d even make the arrangements; I could use a change of scene myself. You’d get good massages given on good behavior, with no lip service—” He smirked grimly, realizing how difficult it was for him to suggest without selling. “That is to say, I’d enjoy giving them. Quietly. But should you choose to stay, and celebrate your birthday here with us this year, I wouldn’t min—" Again, he caught himself; his face clouded for an instant, then cleared, transparent and a bit wistful, as he half-turned to make his graceful exit. “Rather, I would very much like that.”

Liner Notes

Listen on Spotify!

We Go Together / David Tennant & Catherine Tate - Lyrics We go together like the news and the weather / We fit like hand in glove! It’s All Been Done / Barenaked Ladies - Lyrics And if I put my fingers here, and if I say / “I love you, dear” / And if I play the same three chords, / Will you just yawn and say ‘I’m bored’ / It’s all been done Partners in Crime / Arkarna - Lyrics  As I feel, we are, we must go on, I will stand, with you, forever / Ever more / But without you it’s a bore, It’s no fun breaking the law / Anymore, anymore, my partner in crime True Colors / Justin Timberlake & Anna Kendrick - Lyrics Show me a smile then / Don’t be unhappy, can’t remember / When I last saw you laughing / If this world makes you crazy / And you’ve taken all you can bear / You call me up / Because you know I’ll be there Paradise Valley / Honey and the Sting - Lyrics  Take what you want from me / I bring it willingly / The paradise valley  Got Your Back / Mike Taylor - Lyrics If you need a friend to party - I got your back / If you wanna get naughty - I got your back / Just tell me where to hide the body - I got your back

Somewhere Only We Know / Keane - Lyrics And if you have a minute why don’t we go / Talk about it somewhere only we know? / This could be the end of everything / So why don’t we go / Somewhere only we know?  We Belong / Pat Benatar - Lyrics We belong to the light / We belong to the thunder / We belong to the sound of the words / We’ve both fallen under / Whatever we deny or embrace / For worse or for better / We belong, we belong / We belong together

I Won’t Give Up / Jason Mraz - Lyrics And in the end, you’re still my friend at least we did intend / For us to work we didn’t break, we didn’t burn / We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in / I had to learn what I’ve got, and what I’m not / And who I am  Clear the Area / Imogen Heap - Lyrics You find your way back down. / And I’ll keep the area clear…please clear the area. /  When you find your way back down…in one piece / Then I’ll just be waiting here…right here. / Slowly…darling…nobody means any more to me than you. Fortress Around Your Heart / Sting - Lyrics And if I’ve built this fortress around your heart / Encircled you in trenches and barbed wire / Then let me build a bridge / For I cannot fill the chasm / And let me set the battlements on fire

Undercover / Pete Yorn - Lyrics And we held and we tried / There was hardly lust between us / I will love you / I won’t let go / ‘Cause we are one inside these walls / Undercover

Black Heart Inertia / Incubus - Lyrics You’re a mountain that I’d like to climb / Not to conquer, but to share in the view / You’re a bonfire and I’m gathered ‘round you / Set this old black heart inertia aflame Invincible / Muse - Lyrics ‘Cause there’s no one like you in the universe / Don’t be afraid / What your mind conceives / You should make a stand / Stand up for what you believe / And tonight / We can truly say / Together we’re invincible

Yoruichi was actually a bit surprised when her hand was taken and the classic piece of audio kit was pressed into it, not having expected such a forward approach. For want of any other recourse—it was her birthday, and it was a gift, apparently given very sincerely considering his affect… what else could she do but take it?—she willingly grasped the Walkman and heard him out.

She was in for another surprise at how little he had to say, comparatively. Sure, some of the usual banter and salesmanship eventually filtered in, but the facade was cracked and the underlying sincerity streamed through the act like sunlight through mist, burning it off right before her very eyes. It was striking, and she stared at the spectacle of it, growing increasingly uncertain.

And then, just like that he… left? She was sufficiently taken aback by what he’d said—and how he’d said it—that she hadn’t yet had time to formulate a reply when he was turning and departing. Her mouth opened, but no sounds came out of it, and by the time she thought of something to say—even just, ‘Wait’—he was gone.

She stared after him for long seconds before shutting her mouth and looking at the Walkman that’d been handed to her. She considered it for several moments more before going to a closet drawer. She already owned a pair of vintage Walkman headphones with orange foam earpieces; they seemed the most appropriate thing to use to listen, and listening seemed to be the only thing to do.

Considering both components, she put the headset on, plugged it in, and clicked play. There was a delightfully mechanistic moment as the button sank in, giving that chunky, electromechanical experience you simply couldn’t get with fully digital electronics. It made her nostalgic as the first song began, and she listened, at first just standing where she was. The first song was a bit cornball, and she wondered if the whole mixtape would be that way, eventually sitting on the edge of her bed. But by the third song she was up and pacing about as she listened, a pit growing in her stomach.

By the seventh, she had retreated from her bedroom entirely, going to her bathroom almost on autopilot. Some part of her knew it was even farther away from scrutiny—harder to reach, harder to be heard from, even if her rooms and the building itself were very well soundproofed. Some other part of her felt almost ill. And then there were her eyes.

Crying had never been acceptable. That had been made abundantly clear to her from the very beginning. She didn’t cry. She hadn’t since she’d been a toddler. She’d watched her kōhai have a breakdown without crying. She’d torn off her own arm without crying. She’d cradled her little brother after he’d been shot through the heart three times without crying. As she leaned on the wall beside the tub, she almost didn’t recognize the pressure around her eyes. Her motions were automatic, and she clambered into the dry basin while she fought to keep herself under control. Things started getting blurry as a titanic clash raged within her.

Yet the music kept going, and she refused to stop it. Trembling with held in sounds, she finally punched the stone tiles before her. The strike wasn’t very hard by her standards, although it pushed her gigai—but it wasn’t enough to even chip the rock. Her arm stayed extended and she ground her knuckles into the rough surface, before retracting and striking again. And again. And again and again and again, until the stone was smeared with her blood and her hand throbbed and ached in protest.

The pain wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to compete with what was already filling her, and she gasped as it became overwhelming, hot tears spilling down her cheeks as she lost and it became entirely impossible to see. Her sobs were silent at first, wracking her whole body, before she smacked the bottoms of both fists against the wall, leaning forward to put her forehead on it as she finally let out a noise, something between a growl and a low wail.

She beat against that wall ineffectually, clenching her jaw as she still tried to keep it all in, trying to refuse this, but it was no use. ‘Volatile’ was wholly inadequate to describe the mixture of emotions flowing through her—it was a hypergolic cocktail that was already ablaze and demanded venting. And so, finally, she tipped her head back and screamed. Agony. Frustration. Despair. Self-loathing. Rage. Sorrow. Regret. It had all built and built, not just lately but for far, far longer, and she had no choice but to let out all the fruits of her failures at once now, like some kind of ravening nuclear death beam rendered in sound.

What her reiatsu did in response, she had no idea and no care to know. Presumably the gigai kicked in to contain it, but she was caught up in the maelstrom, a billion light years away from such concerns. She cried out and pounded at the wall until there was nothing left, until she was hoarse, until she was empty, until she was panting from the intensity of the chemicals unleashed, until her tears carried away enough of their torrent that she could breathe.

Spent and dazed, she slumped back, then outright toppled back against an edge of the tub, sinking down and shivering. Still, the music played, and it drew her back to the moment. She could think of doing nothing but flopping onto one side and curling up in a fetal position, desperately hugging herself and simply trying to be small, wishing to just disappear entirely. She stayed that way for a long time.