#i just wish nothing but the best for this group

[writerpetals]

Oo oo Yeonjun from txt + invisible string by Taylor swift 🥹 tysm!! ♥️

okay so i love that song and love the idea of it, so i hope i did it justice. haha i wanted it to be a little silly but still cute~ ^^

When a drunken frat boy spills his drink on your heels, you knew you should have never come to this party. Not like you enjoy spending your Saturday nights around the stench of beer and couples making out in every corner of the off-campus Beta Theta Xi mansion. You only came because the guy you matched on a sketchy dating app stood you up. You didn’t want to spend your night moping about it, so you followed your best friend Fiona to the night’s rager, but you’re wishing you hadn’t.

“‘Scuse me,” you mumble, brushing past two couples grinding to the latest top forty hit and making a beeline toward the stairs. You need to find a bathroom to make an attempt to clean your heels before the stain sets in. They’re your last pair of “going out” heels and you’ll be damned if they’re ruined. “Pardon me.” You slip past a few groups of people conversing. 

Luckily for you, you make it to the end of the hall after making a right at the top of the stairs to find a bathroom with no line. You’re thankful the music isn’t so loud up here so you can actually hear your own thoughts. You’re not usually such a downer about parties, but you just aren’t feeling it tonight when everything seems to have gone wrong.

When you go to open the bathroom door, it’s suddenly being jerked away from you. You come face to face with a very surprised, very handsome guy wearing his baseball hat low and a black tank top beneath a gray jacket. His eyes go wide, but then his gaze lowers to take in your date outfit. Just a simple black dress and matching heels that are currently soaked with alcohol. Nothing special, but you still need to get in there.

“Excuse me,” you say, pushing past him. “Are you done in here?”

The stranger smirks. “Well, I guess I am n-”

He doesn’t finish his sentence before you’re shutting the door on him. You didn’t mean to be rude, but this is a shoe emergency. You grab as much toilet paper as you can to begin dabbing away the liquid. After a few minutes, they begin to look alright. At least they were suede, you think. You’re satisfied enough that you leave the bathroom to head downstairs. Luckily, there’s still no one in the hall, taking your time to enjoy the quiet while you can.

You look for Fiona once you’re downstairs again, the bass from the music making it hard to concentrate, but you finally spot her. Unfortunately, she’s already found the guy she will be making out with all night, leaving you alone to fend for yourself. Perfect.

You know the night isn’t going to get better, so you send her a text that says you’re leaving before calling an Uber to come pick you up. If you can’t enjoy your night, at least you can go home to pig out on junk food and watch a movie. It takes a few minutes for you to actually squeeze past everyone to make it outside. You know there’s way too many people here, so the thought of leaving actually fills you with relief.

You wait a few moments pacing out front before a black sedan pulls up the long driveway.

“Thank goodness,” you exhale the words before opening the passenger’s door to the car, slipping into the seat and reaching for the seatbelt. “You came quickly, but I’m so ready to go, so thanks for that. Ready?” The Uber driver hesitates for a moment, then he puts the car into drive just as you tuck your phone away into your clutch.

“Sure,” he simply says, and you swear you’ve heard that voice before. Recently. Like just twenty minutes ago.

“You’re the guy from the bathroom!” When you finally turn to look at him, you notice the same baseball cap and jacket. “Were you just like… waiting around the party to Uber people home?”

“Uber people?”

“Yeah, you’re an Uber driver, right?” He blinks at the question, staring at the road in front of him with a frown on his face.

“What? No.” Your heart sinks at the realization. This is not your Uber driver. This is a complete stranger you’re in the car with. And, yeah, okay, Uber drivers are strangers, too, but at least they can be tracked. Speaking of, you never bothered to check the app to see if the driver made it. You only assumed it was your drive because you were only half paying attention.

“What do you mean? Why are you driving me home if you’re not an Uber driver?” You lean up in your seat, heart racing while you look around the car for a possible escape plan.

“Because Fiona asked me to take one of her drunken friends home. You’re not Lily?”

Your eyes grow wide. “Okay, first of all, Lily is a six foot five football player. Short for William. It’s just a joke we tease him with.” He looks even more confused as you speak, and your mind is racing with how this happened in the first place. “Secondly, how do you know Fiona? Thirdly, what the hell? I just jumped in your car and you just took off without even knowing who I was! I could be a murderer! You could be a murderer! Oh my God… please don’t murder me before I can get my grade up in environmental science or my parents will kill me.”

Okay, maybe you shouldn’t drink anymore at parties. You only had one cup, but you suddenly feel lightheaded and queasy. 

“Hey, calm down,” he tells you, stopping at a red light to turn and face you. “I’ve never met William, so I assumed it would be someone that is not six foot five getting into my car. Fiona and I met last year and we’ve been cool. She’s helped me a lot with studying. And I’m not a murderer, I promise. Okay? Just breathe.”

You weren’t aware how shallow your breaths were. You inhale deep, hold it for a few seconds, then exhale slowly through your nose. Your heart rate begins to come down. You can think a little more clearly.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, not daring to look at him. The light has changed to green, but he doesn’t notice. Luckily, there’s no other car on the road. “I can’t believe I freaked out on you like that. I don’t know what came over me. I’ve just had a really terrible night and wanted to go home and thought you were the Uber I called and… I’m so sorry.”

He stares at you for a moment, then suddenly he’s bursting with laughter. The amused sound fills the car, watching him throw his head back against the seat and finally take off once the light is green again. 

“That makes so much sense,” he simply says, pulling out his phone from his pocket while keeping one hand on the wheel. “Let me make sure William was able to get a ride.”

“Don’t text and drive!” you say before you can stop yourself. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He’s grinning as he dials Fiona’s number. It rings so long you expect her not to pick up, but finally you hear her muffled voice in the speaker. He explains the mix up, and she tells him William went home with his sober roommate, and all should be good. Then Fiona asks who he picked up instead. “What’s your name?” he asks in a whisper, and you tell him as warmth fills your face the moment he whispers his name in return. You must have forgotten in all the confusion to introduce yourself. That’s twice tonight you’ve been rude to him. You don’t like who you become when you’re stood up.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” you tell him, glancing down at your hands in your lap. “I was so frustrated from tonight, and my date standing me up, and the drink on my shoes. I wouldn’t even have been at the party if I actually went through with the date. I didn’t mean to slam the door in your face.”

“You were stood up?” That’s what he chooses to focus on?

“Yeah. Some guy on a dating app. I should know better than to use them, but sometimes it’s so hard to meet people.” You sigh, making a mental note to delete the app when you get back home. 

Your thoughts are interrupted, however, when you hear him laughing. Now he thinks it’s funny you got stood up? Maybe you deserve it. You did slam a door in his face after pushing him out of the bathroom, and then proceeded to jump in his car and yell at him. You can take a little laughter at your expense.

“Sorry,” he says once his laugh dies down. “It’s just funny, because I shouldn’t have been at the party, either. I was also supposed to be on a date from someone I met on a dating app.”

Your jaw hangs open. What are the chances? “That is funny, actually.” You can’t help but to giggle. “Were you stood up too, or did you do the standing up?”

“First of all, I’m not the type to stand anyone up,” he responds playfully, causing you to giggle again. “But, no, she canceled a few days ago. She seemed regretful, so it’s no big deal.” He offers a casual shrug while stopping at another red light. 

“Well, I should have just stayed at home and been sad like I originally planned.” An exhausted sigh falls from your lips. “I only left because Fiona was making out with some guy and I knew, like, no one else there. Well, besides William. But he gets drunk and tries to wrestle everyone. It’s not a fun time. Probably why Fiona wanted someone to take him home.” 

He chuckles at that, continuing to drive once the light turns green again. “Crazy, because the reason I left was due to my only friend there making out with Fiona, my other only friend.” 

“Hmm,” you ponder out loud. “It’s almost like I was meant to jump in your car. Maybe we should have just matched each other in the dating app.” Your stomach flips from the conversation. You’re only teasing, but really, it probably would have ended much better. Maybe he wouldn’t have spilled his drink on your heels. 

“Well, maybe tonight was meant to be.” There’s a shy grin on his lips. You can only look forward or else your heart will beat right out of your chest. “We’re here now. Together.”

“That’s because I haven’t told you where I live, yet.” Your playful words have you both laughing. Suddenly, you don’t feel so upset over being stood up. You don’t even care about Fiona leaving you to make out with someone, or the drink on your shoes. 

“Are you going to tell me so I can make sure you get home safely?” He looks over at you, brows raised just a little. You grin at the question, deciding to take control of the night into your own hands.

“Drive around a little more. I want to see what I missed by not matching with you.” 

He smiles wide with a simple nod. Just because the rest of the night didn’t go as planned, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen for a reason.

[snzleclerc]

REGRET & LOVE (series) 🎹 1/-

previous part next part other parts

: Leonor is a portuguese girl adopted by a portuguese couple living in Monaco. her childhood was difficult, with the orphanage leaving deep scars, but some people in Monaco brought light into her life. unfortunately, not everything lasts forever. people change, and even those closest to us can drift away… even Charles.

ps: in this story, Kika is 25, just like Leonor.

* i have a taglist, just ask and I'll add you!

2015

"Life changes paths very easily, sometimes even faster than expected. Each day presents new challenges, new obstacles, new people, and new choices. Even what we believe to be forever eventually slips away, and there's no avoiding it. It's like a ray of sunshine; when it hits your eyes, you feel good, but when night falls, all that remains is to appreciate the silence and solitude."

I conclude my high school philosophy presentation with these words. The applause reverberates loudly on the school stage, as strong as I try to hold back my tears.

My journey has changed so much over the years.

"Thank you for that, Leonor. You'll definitely be in the running for the prize!" My teacher tells me as I head backstage, feeling tears welling up in her eyes.

To avoid any conflict, I rush to the women's restroom. I close the door tightly behind me as I sit on the toilet seat, never having spoken about this with anyone other than my adoptive parents. Not that I've spoken about it directly, but just touching on this subject brings back the same pain I felt last year.

But my thoughts are quickly interrupted when I hear a knock on the door. Doesn't the person realize it's occupied? Anyway, I stand up, wipe my face with the sleeve of my sweater, and open the door.

I'm greeted by a girl from my class whom I've never spoken to before. She has medium brown hair, olive skin, and huge brown eyes that match her hair.

To be honest, I've never spoken to her. We've always been part of different friend groups; maybe our maximum contact was the day her pencil fell on the floor and I picked it up, that's it.

Her friends are... complicated. It seems like they always want to be seen by everyone. From a distance, you can tell she doesn't fit into that group; she's more fun, cooler.

"Hey," I say to her in a low tone, if I'm not mistaken her name is Francisca.

"Hi!" She greets me cheerfully as I exit the stall and head towards the sink, with her by my side. "I saw you running out of the presentation, which was really good by the way!"

I'm happy with her comment; it was honest, sincere.

"And well, you seemed upset, so I came to check on you! How are you?" She asks with her big chocolate eyes looking at me with curiosity, but concern.

"I'm fine, just a little nervous after the presentation." I try to disguise it with a laugh, but it seems to only make it worse.

"I know you're not okay. Come with me, let's go to the cafeteria, and if you want, you can vent." Without hesitation, the brunette pulls me through the school hallways towards the mentioned place.

We sit in the empty cafeteria at a table in the corner and stare at each other for a while to see who speaks first.

She rests her chin on her hands and starts. "I guess I better say something, right?" She looks at me, and we laugh together. "You know that group of friends of mine, right? Well, in the last few days, they've been, well—" She pauses to take a deep breath, and I already know what happened. "Recently, they've been sidelining me; it seems like nothing I do pleases them. I just wish I knew why all of this..."

"Look, it's hard, I've felt that way too..." I start, trying to comfort her. "Last year, my best friend did something terrible to me. It feels like everything started going wrong from that day on, and I've never felt so alone. Despite the sadness, I try to move on. I know crying doesn't solve anything, but it's just a way for me to express myself, and I understand you." I look at her with a reassuring look; this situation isn't easy.

"Well, then, we're both screwed," she says, and I let out the first genuine laugh of the day. She's not wrong. "When you feel like talking about him, you tell me, okay? Let's forget what hurt us together. Next year, we'll go to college and become real adults; it's time for us to forget."

But, oh, Charles, you're unforgettable.

[pigeonwit]

heya pidge!! how goes it???

for the aus^^ (also i think the last time you did the au thing was what started us talking wbwbwb!!)

NO WAAAAAY… omg i think you’re right that’s so crazy!!! how long have we been friends now holy shit… it’s gotta be around a year right??? friendiversary??? perchance???

(also dang how did you know i’d recently written a paper on the evolution of social and cultural attitudes through television with a heavy emphasis on the 1960s-)

okay okay so here’s the concept: davey and jack are childhood best friends who have always planned to go on a road trip during the summer after the leave the high school. davey’s always planned on going to university while jack saves his way to santa fe – they’ve always shared these two dreams together and given each other hope that one day they might achieve them. unfortunately, in their final year of high school, they’ve both drifted into different circles; the 1960s saw an unprecedented rise in youth activism, specifically in civil rights and anti-war sentiment, as well as a rise of subculture, counterculture and drag culture. so davey gets more and more invested in activism and queer subculture, volunteering in activist groups, making a name for himself, but as he does so, jack feels more and more trapped where he is. everything’s changing, but not for him; the rug’s being pulled out from under him while he remains perfectly still, and all he can do is fall. so he lashes out more, bites at the hand that feeds him, focuses all his energy on getting out of new york for good. nothing else matters.

both of them are rebelling more and more in their senior year, but in opposite directions, and it’s led them quite far away from each other – not to the point where they’re no longer friends, but… they’re definitely no longer best friends. but still, they’ve been planning this for so long, it’d be such a dick move to cancel it (even though they’re both kind of wishing the other would) and if jack did cancel, then medda would definitely ask questions that he has no idea how to answer properly, and what if davey asked him about it, what’s he supposed to say? so he decides to just go along with it, one last hurrah to see them both off into these new phases in both of their lives. it’s only a week, it’s no big deal. at least they’re splitting gas money, right?

i’m envisioning a nice slow-burn of two friends-turned-strangers coming to terms with what they want. davey has always been expected to be the good kid, the one who makes it out, who goes to college the way his parents couldn’t, who sets an example for les, who gets it right. but god, having to get every aspect of his life right on the first try is so fucking exhausting, and davey needs to just let loose. and as jack discovers, davey has. he’s been doing a lot more than just volunteering, he’s living messy. he gets high, he gets violent, he fights tooth and nail for what’s right, and he’s so, so happy, and so, so ashamed of it. he’s building something for himself on a foundation made of sand, and davey knows it’s going to all shift and crumble eventually, it has to, but he can’t just stop. he can’t. and that makes jack so angry. because he’s been clinging to the ground as the earth shifts around him, as everything changes, trying to find his stability, a place where he can get it right, and davey’s just thrown that away for what? for a bunch of queers? but i think as the story progresses, jack realizes that the reason he’s so angry is because davey was that stability for him. he was the place where jack was able to think things through, be vulnerable, make sense of all the madness around him. and now davey’s changing, and jack doesn’t know who to be anymore. but i think in getting to know this new davey, he’d get to know himself, too.

and now a snippet:

With a swerve of the wheel and a screech of the tires, the truck lurches into a lay-by, sending Davey catapulting in his seat from the force of the breaks.

“Jack, what the hell-?!”

“Alright, spill!”Jack snaps, swivelling in his seat to stare him down head-on. “You’ve been a total pill since we left Pennsylvania, what the hell?”

Davey scoffs, slapping his book shut against his thighs. He’s still fiddling with that little scrap of canvas, twisting the white fabric over his fingers.

“What, we’re making conversation now?” He mutters, the words bitter and burnt at the edges, enough to make Jack wince.

“We made plenty o’ conversations.” He sniffs. “You’re the one who made it weird.”

“How did I-?!”

“Who was that guy?”

Davey falls silent, his head finally jerking up to meet Jack’s gaze. It sparks some twisted sense of satisfaction in Jack’s gut, that Davey had finally dubbed him as more worthy of his attention than some torn fabric.

“In Philly.” Jack says, his tongue barbed with razor-wire. “That punk, who was he?”

Davey swallows, his eyes trembling as he forces them to relax, to focus on the spot above Jack’s shoulder – he told Jack about it when they were kids, his secret trick to make people think he was still making eye contact with them when it all got too much for him.

“No one.” He croaks.

“Some no one, he kissed you-!”

“On the cheek!” Davey protests, and as if it were summoned, that same spot on his cheekbone flushes pink, so delicate Jack wants to punch it. “I met him at a march, I – I got a bus into Philly, I told my mom I was with a study group-”

“You snuck out?” Jack splutters, his whole world suddenly tilting on its axis, because Davey doesn’t sneak out of the house to go to Philadelphia, and he certainly doesn’t lie to his mother, those are some of the fundamental laws of Jack’s universe- “You? You. You snuck out?”

Davey flushes indignantly.

“So what if I did?” He says primly. “I can sneak out if I want to.”

“And you went to a march? In Philly? With college students?”

College students with dyed hair and paint-stained jackets, college students with toothy smiles and bruised knuckles, college students who press their hands against Davey’s waist and kiss his cheek when no one’s looking-

“Oh, for God’s sake, Jack-!” Davey groans towards the truck’s ceiling. “I am eighteen years old, just like you, understand? I’m a big boy. I can catch a bus by myself and talk to big scary college students, and I certainly don’t need your permission to do so!”

The more he talks, the more he presses the patch into his fingertips, worrying the canvas against his thumbprint, as if he wished to blend it into his skin. With every twist, every slip of the fabric, every whisper-soft rasp of his skin against the fibres, Jack feels the ripcord of restraint in his body pulling tighter, tighter – until he lunges, ripping the patch from Davey’s hands.

“Jack-!” Davey lurches over the console, panic blurring his features. Bitterly, Jack’s glad of it. It’s the most reaction he’s gotten out of Davey for this whole damn trip. “Jack, give that back-”

“Or what?” Jack grins wolfishly. “Ya gonna go all teenage-rage on me, badass?”

“I said, give it back-!”

“‘Make love, not war’?” Jack reads the smeared acrylic words and scoffs. “God, he’s a hippie. S’that why you two were so cosy, huh?” He sneers – his whole being’s shaking, eager for a fight, for some good bloodletting to cure the rushing in his brain. “Been makin’ some love, not war together?”

Davey blinks. For a moment, he looks afraid. And then his face curdles, his brow twisting into something ugly and furious, and all he looks is disgusted.

“And what if I did?”

The words cut evenly, knife-sharp. Jack can’t hide the way it stabs him. He opens his mouth, splutters against the sudden realization Davey’s carved into his gut.

“I…” He mumbles, breathless, his whole body feeling weightless, falling, the rug pulled once more. "I don't-"

“What?” Davey says venomously. His whole body has turned to steel, sharpened to a fine point. “You gonna go all cowboy on me? Huh, badass?”

[maxsix]

ATEEZ: GUERRILLA

It has taken me three days to calm down and form coherent thoughts. This turned out longer than expected so it’s behind a cut. If you haven’t watched the music video, this is your sign from God. 

1) Firstly. Who does all the screaming. I want to know. It’s a very important piece of information that I need to know. The laugh is Hongjoong’s but does he also do all the screaming. I need answers, NASA! 

2) The Energy. Every single reaction I’ve seen about this song uses the word “energy”. Ateez do what other groups think they’re doing when the genre is hype because I’ve never NOT ONCE seen Ateez slack off. They leave blood and sweat on the floor for their rivals to slip on. When I first heard the song I thought my heart was just pounding from the excitement but my oximeter said I was actually having a near svt episode, lol. I shouldn’t laugh, it’s kind of unpleasant but HR 120 bpm? Yeah, only Ateez tbh. 

3) Production Quality. I’d like to thank the Academy and KQ for the increase in budget for the MV because it really shows. They used it in a way that wasn’t an empty flex (expensive clothes, meaningless sets, fireworks) but rather, added to the world they’ve been building up since debut. You can see the narrative continue and I really appreciate that. The audio production on the song is just flaw free for me. I usually have so much to nitpick, even in good songs, but I have nothing else to add to Guerrilla. It must have so many layers and tracks to it but it was quiet when it needed to be and absolutely feral at the right parts. What a way to end a track. It didn’t fade out but exploded like a grenade. You can’t ever say that Ateez don’t commit to a concept in every single sense. You’ve heard of Ugly Crying, well Ateez Ugly Hype and have never been afraid to do that. 

3) War Aesthetics. Okay bitch, listen, the creative team really stepped up 800% here for this era and this MV. There are so many warfare references in those 4 minutes that it makes my mind exhausted just thinking of the planning that went into all this. The speaker-bombs were fucking inspired. The use of zeppelins immediately remind me of war, particularly WW1, and an alternative steampunk reality. This part of the MV, which is a piece of art tbh, has got to be a homage to ‘Raising the flag on Iwo Jima’ during WW2 as well as Banksy’s Rage, The Flower Thrower piece in Jerusalem. I think that part of the MV was deliberately in slow motion because the inspiration came from still images. They make very clear statements about war and anti-war sentiments. Without boring you all, the last thing I wanted to mention is the font and colours used for the choreo scenes looks straight from vintage propaganda media. I could keep going but this post is already way too long.  

4) Metal/Rock Aesthetics. That band room? With all the cables and amps? The mics? The spy cameras? The tv monitors? The fisheye lens? You can tell the team has watched a billion 1990s music videos. It also reminded me a lot of American Idiot. That’s all I wanted to say about that. There’s just a lot of influence in those shots. 

5) Screamo in KPOP?! The way it was incorporated was really well done because it’s not prominent enough to scare away the more sensitive casual listener but it was definitely prominent enough for metal fans to have a crisis. We talk about Cultural Reset-This and Cultural Reset-That but nobody has produced a track like Guerrilla before. Nobody. This is one of those times where you can use hyperbole and be right. Nobody has made a song like this and there is no other song like this in KPOP right now. Respect to the Ateez team and the members for their total commitment because they operate like one big breathing organism and that’s why everything feels cohesive. I’ve been waiting 84 years for this. I hope we get to see it with a band one day. 

6) Kim Hongjoong. I don’t know if it’s true or not but I feel his influence all over this. This is HIS era and the style/genre suits him the best. I know he likes Linkin Park and at the very least, this style of music, but I do wonder how much he was able to dictate the Ateez sound and direction. Guerrilla is so good and fed me so well that even if they never do this style again, I’m actually fine with that. 

7) Literally. I just think it’s so amusing how literal this whole song/mv is. There’s just no “hidden meanings” or subtleties here. I’m not sure Ateez can even do subtle. Even their soft material is aggressively emotive. Haha. 

8) People sometimes wonder why I only write long reviews about Ateez music but it’s because they always give me meat to sink my teeth into. Answer is still my Top 3 favourite kpop songs of ALL TIME. There’s just always so much to talk about and it doesn’t even hinge on how hot the members are. You know a group is Legit Good when visual appeal isn’t the first thing I want to talk about. We’re so lucky to live in the Ateez Era. 

[archduke-enver-gortash]

posting on here is like my sisyphean boulder i'm constantly rolling tbh

[laketoriver]

Daymn, allegedly according to tumbkr i have posted 100 times. Wowie. Too bad they’re all liars and owe me big money (i’m too serious)

not even lying which is the worst part. Anyway it’s late have a “poster” of my “blog au” which “technically” “exists” and uh “yeah”. It exists but like i haven’t posted anything i might one day if i figure out how to format it but idk if y’all would like smthn like that lmk.. Au blogs steal my heart you guys are cuties

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[starbornsoulrider]

this whole horse girl mess still really confuses me and I do agree with what ppl are saying on here, like sso should use redefine instead of reclaim. but I mean... on the other hand depending on the context “horse girl” can still be used maliciously. Obviously it’s nowhere near as bad as much worse slurs and sso shouldn’t treat it like it is, and that nowadays people say it in a more playful way than mocking way. But I’ve seen people use the term “horse girl” as a way to belittle someone as recent as like... two years ago now I think? and a few times after that.

this incident comes to mind every time sso brings up this whole thing about the term horse girl, and whenever I see people saying no one rlly uses horse girl as an insult anymore. I’ll try to be as vague as possible since I don’t wanna like, expose anyone I guess? but like two or less years ago there was this activist I often saw on my tik tok for you page. I don’t remember her very well or even her username, but a LOT of fascists and trump-supporters targeted her. one day she just posted a normal video of her chilling or playing with her horse, I don’t exactly remember. and the comments were flooded- and I mean FLOODED- with typical trump supporters saying “of course she’s a horse girl” “you’re a horse girl you really think your opinion matters” “shut up horse girl”- yknow stuff along those lines. obviously it was disgusting, and of course those ppl were just saying that stuff cause they didn’t actually have good a arguement, but still. mocking a woman’s interests and saying they made her inferior, typical misogynistic bs.

and there were a few less bad but still kinda sucky uses of “horse girl” I was exposed to. or just like general sneering at having an interest in horses. SSO was what re-ignited my love and interest for horses, but for maybe the first year of playing it I was kind of nervous to express it. I overheard my sister say to her friends “yeah, their thing is horses now” in a tone that felt like... a little mocking, I guess? and I felt the need to speak up and say “o-oh, I just play SSO out of boredom, I’m not actually that horse crazy, haha” and I’m pretty sure I felt the need to repeatedly say “I just like SSO for the weird and wacky story, that’s all!” on multiple occasions, too.

so yeah incidents like that were what made me hesitant to fully express that horses were a big hyperfixation of mine now, cause I felt like all my friends and family would find it silly and cause I had already seen some pretty viscous attitude towards horse lovers before. even now I’m a little cautious talking about it at times. like I feel embarrassed whenever my family makes a remark about my interest in horses sometimes cause deep down I worry that they think it’s childish or something.

anyways, idk where I’m really going with this, I guess I’m saying that yeah there’s DEFINITELY a better way sso could approach this, although I wouldn’t say this “standing up for horse girls” stuff is completely out of nowhere? Idk, I feel like it’s important that “horse girl” can be a playful term but there are times where it’s used in harmful contexts. I mean, it’s definitely not as bad as slurs, and as I said before sso should rethink this and use better wording. it’s just ever since they started this whole horse girl campaign and saw people saying it felt a little ridiculous, I felt like sharing my personal experience with the term, so I supposed now was the time to finally do that. I wasn’t born into the horse world or really grew up with it, though there are quite a few equestrians on the other sides of my family. again, not exactly sure where I was going with this and I have a lot of “ehhhh...” feelings towards SSO’s approach at this topic for several reasons, even though they do seem to have good intentions, I dunno if my input will help at all but I felt like if I was ever gonna say anything about this it might as well be now. not trying to be like “YOU’RE ALL WRONG HORSE GIRL IS A BAD WORD” of course, my experience with the term “horse girl” has been on my mind before the “reclaim horse girl” post was made and the post and people’s reaction to it made me remember it again. I guess basically, I think sso’s heart is in the right place and I don’t think it’s totally out of nowhere but this was definitely not the best way to approach it.

[liebelesbe]

listening to adventure time songs... I never actually watched it bc I didn't have a way to watch it as a 12 year old in germany which is when I somehow stumbled upon the songs on youtube and me and my one friend (crush before I realized I could get crushes on girls) were sooo into the songs and would write them on each others arms... I miss her :'(

[a9saga]

tbt - the gazette - bath room // i wish i were a hot goth doctor

[rowanhoney]

.

[madesofgold]

.

[piratefalls]

1. Happy nov 5th, i still cannot believe it's real

2. TELL US ABOUT YOUR BFF!

HAPPY NOVEMBER 5 AKA WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT

oh friend, this is an interesting question, because i guess the answer relies on what you mean by bff. like, my longest friendship? that's sarah, we've been friends for the last 25 years (mind you, I'm 32, so basically my whole life). in terms of closeness? absolutely sarah, because we're absolutely the embodiment of the "talking about a serious thing in text and then talking about something completely unrelated on social media" joke. but that term also basically covers everyone else i consider a friend friend.

here's the thing: i grew up in a village of 2,000 people. (yes, a village.) my closest friends today are people i grew up with. some of those people are also my friend's husbands. those people are my tribe, my ride or die, the ones who've seen the ugliest sides of me and loved me through so much. the people who instituted the table of truth rule so that we could speak freely because that shit was on lock. each of them has a special place in my heart. this post would never end if i went on a tangent about each of them individually. as a collective, they are my BFFs.

ask me a question for sleepover saturday!

[chisatowo]

Ruikasa king had to be made to try to cover up the fact that wxs have hands down the best covers overall of all the units sorry that I had to be the one to break the news to y'all /j

[femonologue]

Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.

I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.

A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.

"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.

She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"

"What's a tulip?" I ask.

"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."

"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.

I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.

"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.

I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.

It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"

I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.

"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."

I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."

We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.

I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.

By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.

Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.

When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.

After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.

I never see grunge girl again.

That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.

[lildepressyy]

i feel stupid and weird and awkward and wrong nothing happened there were no bad consequences but i hate the way i acted that was too vulnerable it shouldn't be like that i shouldn't have said that acted like that