#i think the absolute miserable quality of this edit is what truly makes it

[definitelynotshouting]

this isnt a hunger au theory i would just like to see the worm/watcher version of this image again please please please

actually my theory is that things are gonna get so much worse before they get better and i am going to have all the emotions. theres gonna be dialogue that makes me explode things with my mind. and all the characters are gonna make me feel insane. especially scar. and especially pearl. but Especially our favourite worm ever (grian. hes the worm) yeah

ON GODS FORGOT UNTIL RIGHT NOW THAT I MADE A FUNNY LITTLE WORM EDIT OF THIS PIC AKWHSKAJDKWDNKWDJWKD

For you<3

[whinlatter]

Hi, You mentioned you liked the Tent scene in the DH movie which is very rare for Romione fans and book fans… and so I’m curious if there’s other things you like from the films? I would love to know

me fighting for my life in hinny/romione jail after saying i really like the tent scene

Ok just in defence of the tent scene, which I love for so many reasons in a film series I broadly feel ambivalent about... I love that how plays with the idea of the characters just being kids getting a moment to piss about in a tent with the radio on, while the war rages around them (the song is O Children for a reason, and the fact that the train imagery runs throughout the lyrics... chef's kiss). I think it's a thoughtful twist on that line from DH about them being "three teenagers in a tent whose only achievement was not, yet, to be dead", playing with the teenageness of it all. I also really like how it steps out of being a HP film and plays both with a change of pace but also different forms of media - like, if you're converting something from one form to another (in this case, from a book to a film), you can and should think about what you can do in movies that you can't do in books, and music is so important in that. And I actually really love at the end where movie!Harry and Hermione look at each other and something seems to hang in the balance - I think it works as a bit of a wink and a nod to the audience expectations, but I love that they both turn away from it, because to the two characters there’s nothing of that between them, just deep love and ease with another person that they treasure and are grateful for. And then the song ends, and it’s back to the worry, three minutes of forgetting and back to the hours and hours of waiting and worrying. And although I don't really think of the movie characters as the characters, I do think it works as a way to render a dynamic in book!Harry and Hermione’s relationship by DH, which does have this intimacy, tenderness, and these gorgeous little twinge moments of physical affection:

She hesitated, but recognised the dismissal. She picked up the book and then walked back past him into the tent, but as she did so, she brushed the top of his head lightly with her hand. He closed his eyes at her touch, and hated himself for wishing that what she said was true: that Dumbledore had really cared.

Overall, though, I really don't love the films. I absolutely enjoy rewatching them with friends as a nostalgic relic of my childhood, yes I will re-enact the PS/SS chess scene on request, but I don't think as a series they're very strong, either as an adaptation or as a standalone body of work. My favourite film is probably GoF, because I think it just gets the vibe right: it nails the series shift that happens in book four, in that it delivers boarding school caper vibes immaculately, but then also really nails the political/courtroom scenes (the Barty Crouch Jr trial scene holds up as iconic, oh my god!) and the truly terrifying graveyard scene and the tragedy/agony of the aftermath. But in general I don't think the films are hugely well done, and I think giving David Yates films five through eight was a huge mistake (the man just turns the lights down to show that everything is getting dark and miserable, and directs weak, mannered performances from his actors in scenes that are poorly cut and edited. I will die on this hill). If JKR weren't set to make bank that she's going to pump into toxic TERF lobbying in Scottish/UK politics I'd be excited for the HBO series. Since the films were made we've seen how long-form series television can really be a wonderful medium for delivering quality adaptations and is where some of the most exciting new IP has been coming out of for the past few years, so there's such rich creative energy in that space that could deliver a really quality adaptation. But she is... so I am not!

Other things I like from the films that aren't in the books, after a lot of thought lol:

Burning the Burrow scene — it happened in the wrong film (the Burrow probably was attacked during DH, after Ron is revealed to be travelling with Harry at Malfoy Manor), but I think it’s extremely atmospheric, really chilling and beautiful (the reeds! the water! obsessed) Also it’s basically the best/most bearable Hinny moment in the wasteland of film Hinny........ but I digress

The crackling radio scenes from DH 1 (borrowed these heavily for inspo for Beasts, I love them so much)

[transmonstera]

In regards to your posts about ao3 and how vile it is in actuality, I wanna say thank you. I've not put much thought into the website I've been using but this has put things into perspective. I no longer want my work (work that I am proud of) on a website like that. Ao3 doesn't align with my values and I'm assuming many other people's who use the site.

Do you have any suggestions on a better site everyone can use?

(Side note: I absolutely adore your work!)

sure thing!

while there are no websites quite like ao3 in terms of filtering, curation, bookmarks, likes/comments etc there are a few alternatives out there!

Wattpad - I know people make fun of this one because it's where all the rpf for bands went back in the day but it is still operating and many people use it so you'll likely just switch viewers from ao3 to wattpad pretty seamlessly

Tumblr - you can always post directly on here! there is a character limit i believe of 4k so it's great for showing previews or even cutting up a small fic into parts 1, 2, 3, etc. a little clunky but it's an option if you only write short stuff! (Twitter threads can even be an option for this though again, a lil restrictive and works better for super short works!)

Google Docs + Linktree - if you have a linktree account you can always just link a view only (make sure people can't edit!) google doc of the fic! having the fics on a linktree still give people the ability to see all of your work in one place, and you can even see on linktree the click statistics for each fic! while it doesn't give the reader the ability to like/comment, you can always encourage those who do like it to leave a message on your tumblr!

Discord (or any groupchat tbh!) - similar to above you can always set up a discord server and post your fics view docs links there! it gives a curated experience and you can see the comments of people directly in the server

AO3 has seemingly made people believe that each and everyone one of their fan creations must be thrown out into the void where you hope everyone sees it and loves it. I think this has really stifled people's abilities to truly be creative in terms of making content of their favourite medias (and even with transitioning to making original work!) because you may subconsciously be adhering the current trends and whatnot of everyone else, even if you don't really like it yourself! I mean look at how common modern/high school aus still are today when I have yet to meet anyone who actually likes them. Look at how many books that have been published lately that painfully follow AO3 tag systems, where they don't even havea blurb anymore and instead just have "friends to lovers meet blah blah blah! read it now!". (Not to mention the quality of the books being published is fucking atrocious)

AO3 has ruined publishing and I am being entirely serious about that.

But back to where you wanna go with your fics now. Don't be afraid to restructure how you interact with your hobbies! It doesn't have to be so exposed and vulnerable to anyone and everyone having their say on it. I used to participate massively in fandom and I'll be honest, it made me miserable. I constantly felt like I couldn't keep up, that my ideas were wrong because another idea was more popular, and I really struggled. So I took about a hundred steps back and only interact with the media I like through my friends who also like it! And it's a lot better! You may not get hundreds and thousands of likes on fics from here on out if that's what you're used to, but I guarantee you'll have more meaningful interactions that you actually hold dear to you far more than any "a guest has left a kudos on your work" notification.

(Also just a pre-emptive thing of anyone who wants to defend AO3 on this post because "it's an integral part of fandom!" or "they need that much money because they run a site with no ads!", or you want to try and tell me that the fics on there are fine because it's fiction regardless of what the fics is (including literal fucking CSAM), just know you are completely unserious and I don't value a single thing you say. So don't even try it. How about you donate to a marginalised person's mutual aid for the first time in your life and you'll calm down.)

[brightbeautifulthings]

Complete Tales & Poems by Edgar Allan Poe

"'For the love of God, Montresor!' 'Yes,' I said, 'for the love of God!'"

Year Read: 2020

Rating: 2/5

Context: Starting two years ago, I’ve picked an intimidatingly long classic to read over the course of a year. I have a problem with trying to read books as fast as I possibly can, so if I set myself a thousand page novel, I’ll try to pound it in a week, and it will just be a miserable experience all around. So, a year is a nice compromise. I’ve hit the major Poe horror stories in the past, and I’ve been thinking about rereading them, but I couldn’t decide where to start. Reread my favorites? Read the ones I’ve heard of? What if I’m missing something awesome? As usual, my go-to answer is to read them ALL. For more thoughts on individual stories, see my monthly blog posts. Trigger warnings: character death, torture, live burial, cannibalism, decapitation, animal abuse, injury, severe illness, racism/xenophobia, anti-Semitism, ableism, slurs, mental illness, bitter ranting from the reviewer.

Thoughts: My edition, with an introduction by Wilbur S. Scott, is probably not the edition I would have picked, since I prefer more notes or even essays to help me out with books that are 100+ years old. Context is helpful. Somehow though, my dad and I ended up with the same edition, so we decided to read it together. My dad loves all things horror (I come by it naturally), and we’re both longtime Poe fans, especially if you happen to put Vincent Price in one of his film adaptations. Scott’s introduction is particularly pretentious for a book we probably found in the bargain bin, and he manages to criticize the horror genre for not being “literary enough”. This is an Edgar Allan Poe collection, right? Way to alienate 90% of your audience right from the start. You can’t snub an entire genre and then attempt to explain why people like it. Like a lot of critical writing, it tells us more about Scott than it does about Poe, and I was circling his typos to entertain myself by the end of the introduction.

It did not get better. In short, I actively hated so much of this collection, and it's my most arduous and least enjoyed year-long read to date. To be even shorter, the only stories I found worth reading for pleasure were the horror ones I had already read and loved, and I'm afraid to examine too closely whether that has more to do with nostalgia and pop culture than the stories themselves. Poe has a way of lingering on pointless descriptions and belaboring a point to its absolute death, alongside an aggressively pretentious tone that suggests the narrator (and, by extension, Poe himself), knows everything there is to know about everything and you're an idiot for even asking. His true talent may not be horror, but in turning what might have been a good story into an intellectual soapbox and hammering it the point of absurdity. It would be different if the stories actually were intelligent instead of ridiculous. I’m happy to talk Aristotelian ethics, but the point is never to intellectually engage the reader–-it’s to show how clever the writer is.

On the whole, it seems like Poe struggles with telling a straightforward story, and I can’t tell if it’s because the short story genre has changed so much since then or because he’s so busy trying to show readers how smart he is that he forgets that stories have very specific components like suspense, exposition, or rising action (or endings). Most of them consist of some narrator speaking the entire time (I have all kinds of problems with this, from, “You just ruined the twist of your own story” to “No human talks for thirty uninterrupted minutes unless some idiot gave them a microphone.”), and few of them have anything resembling action, plot/character development, strong themes, or closure. There’s an essay-like quality to some of them (“The Imp of the Perverse”, “The Premature Burial”) where he seems to be trying to tease out a concept on an intellectual level, sometimes for pages and pages, before he remembers that he’s telling a story with characters and what could loosely be called a plot. I could do without all the intellectualizing, verbal grandstanding, and narrative cartwheels; just tell a good story, please.

And he does, sometimes. It's clear why Poe remains an essential part of the horror canon because those are easily the best stories in the collection, and I don't think that's just because I'm a horror fan. Horror seems to age better than some other genres because certain things remain consistently scary over decades or even centuries--being buried alive, for example. “The Fall of the House of Usher” is permeated by a feeling of bleak foreboding, culminating in some truly terrifying images, and “The Tell-tale Heart” is one of the better examples of Poe’s rambling narrator who thinks a lot of his own intelligence and slowly unravels over guilt. Both scared me to death when I was a kid, and I’m happy to see that they still maintain a high creep factor as an adult. (I also had the Great Illustrated Classics Tales of Mystery and Terror as a kid, because all a story about being buried alive needs is an illustration!) “The Cask of Amontillado” has long been one of my favorites (because there is something deeply wrong with me, probably), and “The Pit and the Pendulum” and “The Masque of the Red Death” are both top-notch horrifying, the latter a classic plague story that's a little *too* relevant to the times just now (but, you know, also one of my favorites). The clock symbolism is some of the best in the entire collection. Why, pray tell, would you be afraid of time?

The tolerable stories are the detective ones and the adventure ones, in that order. I can see why Poe’s detective stories like “The Gold Bug” and “The Murders in the Rue Morgue” spawned a genre. I was getting clear Sherlock Holmes vibes from his character, Dupin. However, it reaffirms that something is a classic because of its effects on literature as a whole and not because it’s still all that accessible. Just because something is the first of its kind doesn’t mean it’s the best of its kind; in fact, it usually isn’t because that was only a starting place. I can’t help feeling “Murders” would have been more compelling as a horror story than a detective story. Murdering gorillas are cool; listening to someone talk about murdering gorillas, much less cool. I was extremely irritated by his hot air balloon stories ("The Balloon Hoax", "The Unparalleled Adventure of One Hans Pfaall"), but apparently Jules Verne loved them, which makes a lot of sense. I was getting a lot of Verne vibes from things like "A Descent Into the Maelstrom" and even the utterly long, boring, and racist "Narrative of A. Gordon Pym." It's clear they had influence on other writers, even if they're not the best examples of their genres.

Which brings us back around to the bad. It's not worth my time or yours to list all the terrible stories in this collection, but I can briefly summarize what I found so terrible about them. First, Poe is tragically, emphatically unfunny. The things he seems to find humorous are either in very poor taste now (his tasteless descriptions of mental patients in “The System of Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether”), or they’re outright ridiculous, almost slapstick, like the woman who gets her head stuck in a clock and is subsequently decapitated by it in “A Predicament,” which is an odd sequel to “How to Write a Blackwood Article.” I’m sensing that Poe is making fun of intellectuals or would-be intellectuals here, but with so much time and cultural distance, it’s hard to tell. In any case, it led to a running joke (“I’m going out for groceries!” “Don’t stick your head in any clocks!”). Somehow, I doubt this is the major takeaway Poe was hoping for.

Worst of all, they don't age well on representation either. Poe seems at pains to offend every single minority he possibly can throughout his oeuvre. There are a lot of horribly racist depictions of African Americans, snide comments about Jewish people (or the much more obvious anti-Semitism in “Four Beasts In One” where a mad king has a thousand Jews killed--really?), and blatant ableism (“Hop-Frog”). It's at its worst in "Narrative of A. Gordon Pym," a novella that spans over a hundred pages, that is basically a tedious, xenophobic setup to paint the native population of an island as the most horrific and duplicitous monsters imaginable. (The narrator previously ate one of his shipmates, so can he really afford to throw stones here?) For inexplicable reasons, that story isn't finished, and by that point, I was grateful.

Poe's poetry is a little easier to work through than his prose. I love "The Raven" with its lilting rhymes and dark message, and "Annabel Lee" is very pretty, both ubiquitous in popular culture. I also liked "Dream-Land," "Al Aaraaf" (where Ligeia makes another appearance), and "Alone." Most of the poetry has pretty simple rhyme schemes, the subjects mainly love and loss. There's an excerpt of an unfinished play, "Politian," included as well, but it didn't make much of an impression on me. TL;DR: I stand by my initial opinion, which is to read his horror stories for pleasure and, possibly, his detective and adventure stories for genre purposes, and to skip the rest. I'll probably be looking for a smaller edition of the stories I like. This one is a massive hardcover, more like a book you put on your coffee table to look impressive than a book you actually read (but I don’t have a coffee table, so it’s actually just taking up more room on the shelf than any one book has a right to).

[docmurph12]

Ok review time!! Been a while, its good to be back. Im a little behind on requests so the first is going to be one from my wife, who I think chose this because she wants to simultaneously torture me and because she doesn't like it either and wants to confirm the quality (or lack thereof). At the least I know this movie split audiences, and I know the music, while.......well enough composed is painfully simple and bland to the point of being tropey. It will be interesting enough to see how they manage to Disney-ize the world's best known racist exploitative exhibitionist. If you wanna know I'll do 5 about Barnum at the end, for the sake of historical reference.

To start, Hugh Jackman is predictably fantastic vocally. I absolutely loved him in Les Miserables and he is definitely in voice here. The interesting thing I noticed is that the music is REALLY canned, but mostly its not a bad thing. It's just really obvious they did the music in ADR style recordings after or maybe even before the fact. It is REALLY clean and sometimes is just a touch jarring that the performer's movements don't seem to appear at all audibly. It is all very well mixed though, the sound effects are not at all distracting, but also not distractably absent (Thanks CATS for making that a thing I notice now).

The movie is very well shot, this early in the film the thing thats bugging me is that they have some great shots, but they never let anything sit. There are a lot of cuts. I am obviously a fan of long shots, but you have to let the shot sit for a second. Camera movement is not a bad thing, and it adds a little continuity and relation to your characters to your visual storytelling. Watch how David Fincher tends to use a camera. Looooong cuts that precisely follow character movements. Lots of this is his specific style but man it draws you in.

Interesting introduction to Zack Efron's character. He is an awful big actor (with what im understanding will be a big part) to have been introduced with nothing more than a throwaway line about a specific rich family that hasn't been mentioned at all prior to this. Kind of removes the stakes or any level of interest in who this person even is or why Barnum wants him involved at all.

I really liked the scene transition from the bar to the circus. Well shot, interesting visual trickery, nice use of long cut shots to establish where you are supposed to be, so that when it changes incrementally it is very visually stunning and exciting.

The bearded lady has a trash application. Im surprised that made it into a big budget tent pole film. My God is that thing bad.

The whole "This is Me" "Rise up" thing really is tragic considering the people who were basically used by Barnum never were anything to him but a money making venture. They were made celebrities under Barnum but arguably never made what they deserved with him, and after the fact were still ridiculed and shamed. In fact riots were started because of Barnum's "den of evil".

Man, Zack Efron slays with his voice but he totally just bounced Zendaya's head off the ground. Holy shit.

Interesting that the one thing negative they focus on with Barnum is his inability to focus his energy on his family and the trouble it got him into.

Oh hey that's Yahya Abdul-Mateen II. Strange that its not even a bit part that he got. He's awesome. Shame they didn't use his talent to better effect. I really enjoy watching his performances. I mean the awfully bearded lady got more of a speaking role than one of the most talented actors on the cast.

Nice that some of the performances later in the film appear to be recorded live. Hugh Jackman should really have gone whole hog in performing live for the whole film. He's really very good.

The choreography in this is remarkably complex. They had to have spent a crazy amount of time in rehearsals on this, especially on the pieces in smaller spaces.

Oh man the VFX of Tom Thumb riding the elephant was REALLY bad. I wasn't sure if it was just me when I saw it earlier in the movie when he was riding the horse, but nope. Just bad.

And of course the obligatory positive quote from the famous historical main character.

Alright so the final verdict. This wasn't the atrocious train wreck I thought it was going to be. That said, there were a lot of things that left me pretty disappointed. The devil truly is in the details and there were things that had me wondering how they got through the final approval door. Bad makeup/prosthetics, good audio mixes combined with jarring combinations of live and pre/post recorded music, inconsistency in the editing room in terms of length of shots for effect, oddly throwaway introductions of main characters, bad VFX and unused talent really leave one wanting more out of this. Now the really tragic thing here is that there might be a way better film here if they grimed it up and really went for the more accurate story of PT Barnum, a little closer to "There Will Be Blood", where the tale of narcissism driven obsession of exploitation and profit takes center stage. Folks please let it be known this is just a movie. PT Barnum was not a good person. He exploited people for profit, and continued to put people on display as freaks in spite of the negative attention it brought them. THE EXHIBITION WAS KNOWN COMMONLY AS A DEN OF EVIL FOR CHRIST'S SAKE AND ALL HE DID WAS LABEL THESE PEOPLE AS FREAKS AND PUT THEM ON DISPLAY. He was only a philanthropist in the sense that for him to be so, he needed to see a profit on the back end. If you really need to know how bad things were take a second and look up the name Joice Heth. You might thank me, you probably won't. That said, I truly feel this was a wasted opportunity to tell a well written cautionary tale. Lots of good in this version of the film, but not enough to overshadow some very strange oversights.

Final Verdict?

C-. I dont see myself revisiting this. So much left on the table.

Next up? Either The Platform or Circle (I think that is the name of it). REALLY looking forward to those ones.

[taltos-seidmadr]

Okay so I just happened to be working on two playlists that had nothing to do with each other but coincidentally their common aesthetic was “unhinged“. And then suddenly, at a moment’s notice, a god more ancient than pagan beamed an understanding into my brain in a matter of something like 10 seconds and my third eye just opened so wide that it fell right out of my skull. NONE of you are ready for the forbidden knowledge that I’m about to unleash

I would like to point out that a). what one’s definition of “unhinged“ is, is a personal metric that is not only very subjective but doesn’t need to be made objective, and b). the names are just meant to be taken as examples, they are obviously limited to music that I could think of off the top of my head, and c). regardless of a) and b) the spectrum itself in essence is still factually accurate and transcends musical genres or personal tastes

Why yes, thank you for asking, I actually DO have a playlist with examples to illustrate my point, MOREOVER even working on an extended edition of the playlist where I welcome your recommendations of music that you consider to be unhinged.

A little bit more wordy explanation of my playlist under the cut.

First, the purest forms:

St. Anger by Metallica (I meant the whole album, but the titular song is as good as any) a good example of Vaporwave that I could find Elddansurin by Heilung (pretty much anything from Heilung, but this particular song is both short enough to prove the point succinctly and fucks)

I don’t have a lot to say about these, listen into them for a few seconds and you will get a good idea what each tip of the triangle really means.

The 50/50 forms:

Sexy + angry: Engin Miskunn [No Mercy] by Hatari Their perfectly balanced nature is heightened by the complementary duality of their vocals - Hatari is like a two-headed monster whose one head is trying to seduce you and the other is very, very angry. Though, that can also be seductive in it’s own way, if that’s your thing, I’m not judging. Hatari would certainly agree from what I would know. Their entire oeuvre is kinda like this, so here’s a fresh and sexy sexy song by them that, indeed, mercilessly slaps.

Angry + c̵͓̗̿͘u̶͈̾̍R̸̪̔͠s̸̖͙̀e̶̺͖̓d̴̦͂̎?̶̥͂͋ͅ,̷̟̀,: Good God by KoRn KoRn has always been famous for doing their extremely unhinged own thing, especially in their early days. This is not even their most unhinged song from the album that this song comes from, but i felt like this is a good intersection between accessible + illustrating the point.

Sexy + c̵͓̗̿͘u̶͈̾̍R̸̪̔͠s̸̖͙̀e̶̺͖̓d̴̦͂̎?̶̥͂͋ͅ,̷̟̀,: Грустная Сука [Sad Bitch] by IC3PEAK If you don’t know them already, allow me to introduce you to absolute embodiment of Feral Big Dick Energy music of IC3PEAK. This is their most famous banger but literally everything that they make sounds like this.

Perfectly balanced, master of the three elements, the avatar themselves:

Blue Mark by Altan Urag Exactly what it says on the tin tbh. I want to add that technically any combination of modern music genre + leaning into a folk music aspect in a feral way + strange vocalizations/instruments could fit this bill, but there is something specifically about Mongolian metal that makes me instantly regress into the genetic memory of an 1200 year old ancestor who was still backwards-riding a horse on the Eurasian steppes as a nomad warrior. So here’s a little Altan Urag. If you think Apocalyptica is cool, you will like this A LOT.

Mixed forms:

Crucify Me feat. Lights by Bring Me The Horizon 60% angry, 40% sexy I had to ask for the expertise of my sister on this, who literally grew up on screamo. Based on my limited experience, I think the cursed aesthetic is missing from this genre entirely by definition, though there might be some variation to that.

Holidays In The Sun by Sex Pistols 85% angry, 15% sexy The spiritual great-uncle of screamo, this genre is an almost pure manifestation of angry unhinged, but as opposed to early Slipknot, with more of a slight sexy streak.

Human Behaviour by Björk 90% sexy, 10% c̵͓̗̿͘u̶͈̾̍R̸̪̔͠s̸̖͙̀e̶̺͖̓d̴̦͂̎?̶̥͂͋ͅ,̷̟̀ For me personally, Björk plucks the blurred line between “normal“ and “unhinged“ like the string of a harp, just being a tiny little bit off-kilter enough to be categorized as such, which in itself ads an uncanny aura to her otherwise whimsical music.

Székely keserves [Transylvanian Lament] by Kodály Zoltán 80% sexy, 20% c̵͓̗̿͘u̶͈̾̍R̸̪̔͠s̸̖͙̀e̶̺͖̓d̴̦͂̎?̶̥͂͋ͅ,̷̟̀ Kodály is a Hungarian neoclassical composer. Not everything he wrote is like this, but he can lean into the cursedness surprisingly hard if the topic/emotion demands. Please enjoy his unhinged interpretation of a miserable folk song.

Very different genre, but same sexy to cursed ratio: Too late, all gone by How To Destroy Angels

I admit that I have zero idea who the big names are in contemporary jazz but I added the first thing that sounded similar enough to what I imagined in my head. Since fluidity and going off the rails is a big staple of jazz, I think the whole genre deserves the honor. Depending on song and performance I would rate it on average about 50+% sexy, ~30-40% cursed and up to ~15% angry.

What You Believe by Jonathan Davis  20% angry, 40% sexy, 40% c̵͓̗̿͘u̶͈̾̍R̸̪̔͠s̸̖͙̀e̶̺͖̓d̴̦͂̎?̶̥͂͋ͅ,̷̟̀ This is such an interesting example because the chorus is completely unironically normal but the verses inbetween are just so cursed in a peculiar way, making the song overall both extremely strange and SUPER catchy at the same time. To the point you’re almost feeling like you’re being somehow subliminally manipulated. Just don’t worry about it mate. Everything’s fine. It slaps.

Closer (Deviation) by Nine Inch Nails Not everything that they make would I consider unhinged, but Trent Reznor has a great flare to inject music with electronic effects that sound kinda bizarre, putting his work somewhere in the direction of ~30% angry, ~50% sexy and up to 20% cursed on average. I added the most unhinged song that I could think of, and possibly one of the most unhinged songs ever made. 50% sexy, 50% cursed and 120% gnawing on the walls levels of sexually frustrated. Very NSFW.

Bitches by Mindless Self Indulgence 30% angry, 30% sexy, 40% c̵͓̗̿͘u̶͈̾̍R̸̪̔͠s̸̖͙̀e̶̺͖̓d̴̦͂̎?̶̥͂͋ͅ,̷̟̀ MSI, within this spectrum at least, is almost exactly the same as Nine Inch Nails except that they are way more cursed leaning. They are also a pretty good illustration for the point that sexual topics and “sexy” unhinged as an aesthetic are two completely different things. NSFW.

Apex Predator by Otep 60% angry, 30% sexy, 10% c̵͓̗̿͘u̶͈̾̍R̸̪̔͠s̸̖͙̀e̶̺͖̓d̴̦͂̎?̶̥͂͋ͅ,̷̟̀ I don’t have a lot to add about this, but if you wanna hear a truly unhinged woman lead a band, then you’re going to have a field day with Otep. Enjoy to your heart’s content. 

My Plague by Slipknot 85% angry, 15% c̵͓̗̿͘u̶͈̾̍R̸̪̔͠s̸̖͙̀e̶̺͖̓d̴̦͂̎?̶̥͂͋ͅ,̷̟̀ When Slipknot first entered the scene, I heard a lot of metalheads turn their noses up at their work for not being “heavy enough(?)“ whatever that even means, but I think that their earliest stuff is bravely unhinged in a way that seems entirely unique to them. Kinda like the sloppiest, dirtiest of punk, but in an intentionally unappealing, even disgusting manner. Early Slipknot shamelessly embraces the filth and that earns my respect, in a way (their later stuff unfortunately lost this quality but they still write good songs, I think?) You could listen to literally anything from their first album Iowa to get my point but to be seasonaI, I added a #quarantine mood to the playlist.

So that would conclude my introductory 101 tedward talk about unhinged music that literally nobody asked for but hopefully got you acquainted with some new music and/or ideas that you have never heard before!

[thewritinghole]

  For today’s post I’ve decided to add more pictures into my narrative. I’m not sure why I wasn’t doing so all along, and I plan to go back and edit my previous posts. However, I must warn you that my camera quality is subject to the whims of my phone, which is not always (or even usually) reliable.

A few weeks ago I headed to Cremona with some friends for the “Festa del Torrone.” If you’re like me and have never heard of torrone before, it’s basically a nutty, nougaty dessert made from almonds in some sort of sugary white binding agent that I never did learn the exact name of but liked the taste of nonetheless.

Cremona is about an hour outside of Brescia, and I visited alongside three friends because it was one friend (we’ll call her A)’s birthday. A is a dessert aficionado and apparently also a violin enthusiast, and if there’s one thing Cremona is known for, it’s violins. And torrone, actually. So that makes two things!

We went together on a nippy, damp day and were greeted by a big street festival packed to the gills with different desserts. We ate crunchy peanut brittle, chocolate bars, coffee and hot chocolate (obviously; it’s still Italy), chocolate salami (not what you think!), and, of course, torrone. I bought a slice of rum and chocolate torrone that tasted like biting into solidified sweet alcohol and a slice of chocolate salami, which is a log of dark chocolate and bits of what tasted to me like cookie dough (but who can say what it was, truly) made to look like, you guessed it, salami. It was probably my favorite treat of the day, not being a huge fan of nuts. (The edible ones, of course, you perv.)

In addition to oodles of sweets there were also lots of street musicians out. We passed a musical duo featuring a violinist and a man who played both guitar AND electric bass, which is absolutely bonkers. He basically had both instruments propped up on his lap and alternated between playing them in perfect time to the beat. As someone who has learned a bit of guitar, I was absolutely blown away. It’s so hard to play even just one of those instruments, let alone both at once! Needless to say I left them a bit of money in their hat—it was the least I could do after filming them.

We also caught the tail end of a performance of the songs from Disney’s Aladdin, sung in Italian, of course. It appeared to be a high school or college-age acting troupe, and they were quite talented. The man who sang Jafar’s songs was my favorite—but then, it was hard to disappoint me, because I am an ardent Aladdin fan. It’s tied for my favorite Disney movie alongside Lion King and Tangled. (I know it’s lame to have a three-way tie for favorite movie, but you couldn’t ask me to pick between those three. They’re all cinematic glory.)

There were also people running around in costumes. Some were mascots of the sweets being sold, including a person wearing a humanoid torrone felt costume and another dressed as an ice cream cone. There was also a truly horrifying visage of Peppa Pig strolling around in the crowds, waiting like a hawker in Times Square for someone to dare take a picture with them and then force the poor sap to pay up for the pleasure. More impressively, there was at one point a line of men and women dressed in white costumes walking on stilts or in a Cinderella-shaped pumpkin carriage, all done up in LED lights. Stilt walkers never fail to impress me. I am the clumsiest person I know, and have managed to sprain both of my ankles at least twice, on one occasion both within a week of each other. If I were to mount a pair of stilts I would surely die immediately, let alone in such a detailed costume.

Besides the festival, A was eager to check out Cremona’s musical theater culture. We got a lovely glimpse of the outside of a violin museum that proved too expensive to enter, but out on the lawn they did have a lovely silver statue of a man’s head and torso made of interlocking sections of metal, called “The Beauty of Music.”

We also were able to enter a beautiful cathedral (because those are almost always free) filled with oodles of beautiful paintings and gothic architecture. We also checked out a gorgeous old theater, filled with gold scrollwork and red curtains and appearing to the theater kid in me as the exact place I’d love to star in a production of Hamlet or Les Miserables.

We enjoyed plenty of food while we were there, of course. Right next to the Cremona train station is a coffeeshop that is apparently historically significant to Cremona, though I don’t remember what for. Perhaps it’s merely the oldest coffeeshop of its kind. Regardless, we stopped there for breakfast that morning and later got a midday meal at a lovely restaurant where I enjoyed raviolis in broth to help stave off the chill. We acquired another friend halfway through the day who met us there from Milan and enjoyed the latter half of the day walking among the torrone markets and shopping. When the day drew to a close and we missed our initial train, we waited out the next one at that same coffeeshop, enjoying hot chocolate—or, in one friend’s case, a “caffé corretto”, which is essentially an espresso with a shot of booze.

It was a fun day of eating junk food, exploring one of Italy’s lesser-known cities, and talking about traveling and books. AND SPEAKING OF BOOKS, did you know that I wrote one recently? What an organic segue into talking about my book! It’s called I’ll Make You A Deal and is available on Amazon in paperback and eBook. Click this link to check it out if you’d like!

Sorry my updates on this blog have slowed down so considerably; I hope to catch all of you up to speed on my traveling exploits during the upcoming Christmas break, when I won’t be so busy running around Brescia doing private lessons and working out problem after problem with my bank account.

Ci vediamo pronto,

Quinn

Travel Log – Cremona For today's post I've decided to add more pictures into my narrative. I'm not sure why I wasn't doing so all along, and I plan to go back and edit my previous posts.

[chubby-varkid-hell]

just gonna jump in here and throw a request at you since i'm a weird gremlin like that but.... could you write something with a post-tftbl Rhys based on the one Moriarty quote "honey you should see me in a crown"?

How’s this work for ya, anon? I wrote it in like two hours.

Title: Hail To The King

Words: 2360

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Some Minor Swearing, Not Edited/Beta’d

In a world of locked doors…

Rhys ran an exhausted hand through his thoroughly disheveled hair, half in an attempt to tame it and half in an attempt to remind himself that he still inhabited a living body and wasn’t just floating on some bullshit alternate plane of existence. He’d been at his desk in an office of the abandoned Atlas building he’d holed up in since…

Since…

He’d been here for a long time, was all he was saying.

His eyes burned from poring over all the paperwork needed to get Atlas back on its feet. His head was pounding in a combination of strain from processing the information and pure exhaustion. His back and neck were stiff and painful―every minute movement was agonizing. He desperately wanted to sleep, but…

But he couldn’t.

He didn’t have time for sleep.

He reached out with his new cybernetic arm for the cup on his desk. It was the only part of him that didn’t twinge and jerk with every movement from stiffness, but unfortunately… Unfortunately he tended to get distracted by the simple silver metal that made it up. Even in the dim light of this old, musky office, it gleamed. He was proud of that. He was proud of the arm in general.

He’d built this arm from scratch, more or less, and it hadn’t been easy in the slightest. It had been his first order of business after getting the building up and running proper. After that he’d made his new ECHO eye.

So many tiny, delicate pieces in that one… So many mistakes to make.

He shook his head and grabbed the cup, lifting it to his lips. Hesitating just a moment longer, he was soon taking a hearty swig of its contents.

Ugh.

Cold.

That didn’t prevent him from taking another drink, of course. It merely led to a disgruntled internal monologue about the quality of the coffee he was still drinking.

No matter what anyone said about him, he knew no one could deny his determination… Or his rising levels of spite. And that spite and determination were what led him to finish the disgusting mug before setting it aside once more. He knew he should have just drank it while it was hotter than the very spite burning through his veins that had led him to drink it in the first place.

The coffee was colder than Handsome Jack’s dead heart, more bitter than Fiona, and about as energizing as being told he was being promoted to Vice Janitor, but all of that in combination somehow gave him the energy to look over the last of the files he desperately needed to look over.

There were still several that he needed to look over eventually, but for now he’d done all he needed to do. He could sleep at last.

He smiled to himself as he stood, stretching out, and stumbled over to the modest nest he’d built for himself behind some ancient-looking filing cabinets, out of view of anyone who might come into the office. Though the likelihood of anyone, even Bandits, coming to the old Atlas building wasn’t exactly high, it never hurt to be prepared. He needed to watch his back down here.

The man with the key is king…

Dragging his hand across the display before him, Rhys rearranged the items into a more manageable configuration―priority tasks at the top, partially covering the less important ones. He nodded, satisfied, and set about examining the first thing on his roster.

Recruitment.

Again.

He almost hated himself for setting such a task as the most important for possibly the ninth time this week, but it was a necessary evil. To get Atlas back on its feet he needed workers. To get workers he needed to recruit. To make himself go out and recruit, he needed to set it as his primary task.

So far, he had two staff members, and neither of them were particularly useful to actually producing anything for the company… Which wasn’t to say they weren’t useful at all, of course. They certainly had their uses.

But he needed engineers. He needed mechanics. He needed desk jockeys. He needed many more workers that he couldn’t really put names to the jobs of when he was running on so little sleep. It’d been at least two days, now, since he’d gotten up from his meager nest behind the cabinets and set to work on several other tasks that needed done. He’d mostly been attempting to recruit during the day, since most of the people likely to be in need of a job he could provide them with would be awake that that time.

He peeked over his shoulder at the one window in the room. Even through the blinds he could see the sun beginning to climb into the sky at last. It had been dark the past couple of days―rainier than he’d ever seen it. Stormy. The place had nearly lost power several times.

But the sun was out now.

It was time to recruit.

He sighed and smoothed his hair back. He needed desperately to wash it and slick it back proper, but running water was precious and better used keeping him alive right now. He’d wash it tomorrow… Along with the rest of his body.

He checked the second priority item once more, just to remind himself what it was.

It was simple enough. Sell a few items to make a little money to put toward repairs and making new items. And paying his workers. He just had to hope he met someone who wanted Atlas wares.

He paced over to his desk, straightening his back and wetting his lips with his tongue. Presentation was important, especially at this stage in the reemergence of Atlas. He needed to look his best.

He converted his main holoscreen on the desk into a mirror app and checked his appearance.

Fine. He was presentable, at the very least. His hair could use some work, and he needed to smooth out some wrinkles in his suit, but for the most part… For the most part he wasn’t looking too bad. He could stand to go another day before he for sure had to change things up and take that shower.

He’d just have to be careful. He never knew when the water was going to decide it didn’t want to work.

He smoothed out the wrinkles in his suit, smoothed his hair back again, and grabbed the duffel bag full of handmade tech he intended to pedal while he was attempting to get some employees. It was heavy, as was to be expected, but that was fine. He could live with that.

The bag itself? Certainly not handmade, but he’d managed to take some time out of his schedule to carefully place an “ATLAS TECH.” decal on it, and seeing that decal? It reminded him of what he was doing with this company.

Yes, Atlas would still make weapons―that was a given. But Atlas Armaments was long gone. Atlas Technology though? Atlas Technology was just getting started. And Atlas Tech was going to be the biggest company on this shithole of a planet, no matter what Rhys had to do to make that happen.

The ends justified the means, as far as he was concerned.

And honey…

Atlas had a grand total of twenty-seven employees, not counting their beloved CEO, and Rhys absolutely preened at the knowledge every time he thought about it.

Yes, there was still a ways to go before Atlas rose from the ashes like an extremely technologically advanced phoenix, but there were twenty-fucking-seven people willing to help him in this endeavor. And, according to his first two hires? There were more waiting to be interviewed.

It made him positively giddy, if he was honest.

His new dream was finally beginning to come to fruition. His hard work was finally going to get him somewhere.

He laughed to himself a bit and threw a glance at his nest in the corner.

The employees had picked out their own places in the facility to stay until Rhys could provide them with housing, but thankfully they all understood that Atlas wasn’t anything amazing just yet. Rhys could pay them, if everything went well, but he couldn’t provide a place for them to stay outside the facility yet. It seemed to ease their minds a bit that he was also roughing it in the facility with them.

Soon enough, they’d have the money to have proper company housing. As long as things kept going well. As long as he was able to keep selling Atlas tech to people who needed it at reasonable prices.

And, see, that was the thing he was almost certain had made him the money he’d earned so far―he was selling this amazing tech at a reasonable price. He wasn’t overselling it or underselling it. He was offering it at more or less the price of the materials and a little labor. People loved good tech at reasonable prices. They ate it up.

As long as he kept doing that, he knew he could make some good money… At least until Atlas was back on its feet. Then he could raise the prices of the goods a little. Feed the people some crap about using better materials for even better tech… Even though he knew very well he’d be using some of the money for exactly the purpose of buying decent materials. For the most part Atlas still had some awesome materials lying around here, though, and he didn’t really need to buy any until the completely tore through what had been left in the storage rooms.

He laughed to himself again and sagged into his chair a bit.

First order of business once the company was well and truly thriving?

Better furniture for the offices in this dump. The desk in here was nice and sturdy, sure, but the chair? He’d sat on sand more comfortable, thanks. And the desks and chairs in the other offices? Miserable. His employees deserved better.

Thinking about having employees made him laugh again, lips stretching into a rather contented smile.

Things were running pretty smoothly right now.

He could probably…

He could probably go lay down, couldn’t he? He could head to bed for the night and get back to what he was working on in the morning. He sat forward again to check, and his smile only grew into a grin when he realized that, yes, he could do this in the morning without any negative consequences.

Hell yeah, he was going to put this off until morning. He deserved a good night’s sleep after all the all-nighters he’d been pulling these past few months.

He flopped into his nest after shutting off the lights in the office and passed right out regardless of his intimate knowledge of how sore he’d be in the morning from spending another night on the floor.

… You should see me in a crown.

Rhys stepped out onto the catwalk above the main floor, beaming to himself with pride as he gazed at the now fully-operating production line. He had enough employees to staff the whole building, with his first two employees having been promoted to the heads of the Security department. They had an entire team of people just as good as they were behind them. And the rest of the facility? Well, it was working wonderfully under several nearly over-qualified Department Heads who actually listened to Rhys when he told them that their department needed to do something.

The main thing being produced at the moment were weapons, shields, and cybernetic enhancements. They’d already sold several dozen cybernetic limbs to people in need of them, and Rhys had gotten a new employee from it―a cybernetics specialist who could help people attach their new limbs.

Everything was going perfectly.

He turned and paced down the catwalk, wandering through the facility, just making his rounds, letting himself be seen overseeing production. It was good for company morale for him to be involved in their day-to-day operations. It helped employees to see that, yes, he was a busy man, but he wasn’t so busy that he couldn’t have a look ‘round here and there.

By making his rounds when he could, he made himself open and accessible to his employees. Made himself seem more like a person and less like an intimidating voice over the intercom that had no body and all the power necessary to fire someone.

Things were going pretty much perfectly, if he did say so himself, though.

He made it through the rest of the day, and found himself beaming yet again when he remembered he didn’t have to retire to his office to sleep (although that had gotten more comfortable ever since the company started making some reliable money and he’d put a couch in his office). He’d managed to get some company housing set up near enough to the facility that he and his employees could walk to and from work.

His home was the nearest to the facility, of course, but he got to work the earliest and stayed the latest, so it was only fair. His schedule had him getting to his office before the facility actually started production in the morning and getting home an hour or so after everyone else had already left. That was okay though. That was how it was supposed to be.

He headed home, yawning, and calmly collapsed onto his bed.

It wasn’t anything lavish―not yet. It was just a bed, and it’d do just fine until Atlas could assert itself a little better. Until he was selling several hundred items a day instead of several dozen items a week. It was better than the nest on the floor, if nothing else, though. It worked for his needs. It was soft enough not to make him ache.

He stared up at the ceiling with a grin on his face.

Yeah.

Things were going perfectly, and, honestly? Jack had been right about one thing.

Damn it was good to be the king.

[backtothestart02]

If You Love Him, Tell Him | cynco fanfiction

A/N: My first real purely cynco fic, and boy what a doozy it is. I hope you enjoy though! Lots of angst with a happy ending. :)

Fun Fact: I pulled Cynthia being lactose intolerant from this post. (All other bg info about the Reynolds is from my own imagination.)

*There are not enough thanks in the world to give @valeriemperez for this piece. Truly a headache and hours worth of discussion in the post-edits stage. A miracle worker and a great friend. Thank you.

Synopsis: Post 4x20 - Canon Divergent - After an unexpectedly moving heart-to-heart with her father, Cynthia realizes it isn't change she's afraid of. It's love. 

Tears still staining her cheeks long after Cisco was gone, Cynthia found her way to her private quarters and played a message that she knew was from her father, that she knew would be asking the same question he’d been asking for weeks.

“Is Ciscy gonna take the job or not?”

Her father was a little difficult to take seriously in his shorts, tropical shirt, and sandals. But the look on his face was always very sobering, so in part, she was glad the topic had come up on this last visit to Earth 1.

Last visit to Earth 1.

Her face fell further, and she leaned back in the chair she’d slunk into. She closed her eyes, tuning out her father’s voice.

Maybe it really would be.

She’d meant what she said to him. What they had, it was enough for her. A day in the life of Cynthia Reynolds was busy, hectic, but ultimately very fulfilling. She loved traveling to pick up her targets on the run. She loved being badass. She didn’t need a relationship to be happy. And for a long time, she’d insisted she didn’t even want one. But Cisco was nothing if not determined.

Once she gave in, there was no going back. At the same time, that only went so far. She didn’t have time for a relationship every day, and she didn’t want to cut back on her job in order to make one happen. The arrangement she’d had with Cisco allowed her to continue her schedule and take a vacation when she had a free moment. She spent every free moment with him – well, every free moment that wasn’t a good night’s sleep.

Vacation had come to mean quality time with Cisco. There were so many risks in changing the dynamic of their relationship. It wasn’t that she was opposed to more time with him. She loved spending time with him. It was just that their relationship felt perfect the way it was, and she wasn’t willing to risk that just because he wanted to see her every day. It worked fine for her. It worked great.

“-and Cynthia,” her father’s voice concluded, “I want you to come visit me in person.”

She lifted her head and raised an eyebrow. What?

“We can spend some quality time celebrating Ciscy-”

“Oh, my God, no,” she muttered, deleting the message before it could be completed.

She didn’t know what had happened to change her father’s mind about Cisco. He hadn’t liked him right from the start. He hasn’t liked any of your boyfriends, her inner voice reminded her. She ignored that. She allowed that there were moments where Cisco must’ve looked less than awful in his eyes, but to have him go from giving her extra assignments so she wouldn’t have time to see the object of her affection to offering him a job so they could spend every waking minute together, something major had to have happened.

Part of her was insatiably curious. The other part of her – the more logical part – told her loud and clear that it didn’t matter. She and Cisco were through. What did it matter if the two men most important to her for the past year were finally on good terms?

Excellent timing, guys, she thought, absolutely miserable.

She got up from her chair and walked out of the room. She had to get out of here. Work wasn’t a good distraction right now. Work reminded her about her conversations with Cisco in the past twenty-four hours and how they had decided to call it quits. She couldn’t remember the last time she had actually needed a distraction – aside from when her partner died a while back, but with Abra Kadabra put away, she felt closure on that.

She was numb now. She also had tears staining her cheeks. She didn’t really have friends she could talk to about this. She never let her walls down enough to get vulnerable with anyone. Except Cisco. And even with him not everything was stripped away.

She thought back to the previous fall and how it had seemed he was about to tell her he loved her. She was scared to death and then relieved that it was just about her name – something she could easily blow off. If her dad hadn’t showed up moments later, she would have likely thought again about what Cisco had almost said, or what he could have said, while they lay tangled in each other’s arms in the aftermath of steamy sex.

But that hadn’t happened. Instead what she had gotten was him shouting the woman that I love with tears in his own eyes as he saw her unwillingness to budge.

She wondered if she was a fool for letting him end things between them, even if it was for the best.

She sighed and opened a portal, immediately vibing herself to a new earth, someplace quiet and devoid of people. She needed some peace, some alone time, a place to think or maybe just to be. She needed –

The man in floral shirts contentedly humming to himself strolled passed her, blindsiding her completely.

“Dad?”

He stopped, grinned the wide-toothy grin she hadn’t seen from him in ages.

“Cynthia! You came to see me!”

Oh boy.

He walked over to her and stopped just short of giving her a hug. She wondered if he’d been able to see the tension in her. Then again, he’d never been much of a hugger.

“I…didn’t know you were here,” she said awkwardly.

“Nonsense! I told you!” He frowned abruptly. “I told you, didn’t I? I did tell you. I thought I did.” He stroked his chin as she slowly shook her head, apparently deep in thought.

She watched him, aware that she could just jump to another earth without him ever being the wiser. He might even convince himself he’d imagined his daughter appearing unexpectedly beforehand. But something about their close vicinity made her stand still.

“Ciscy! Of course!” He declared, a grin on his face.

Oh no.

“You came to tell me about Ciscy.” He returned to her. “Will he take the job? I really don’t want to have to look for another replacement.”

“I talked to him,” she said carefully.

“And?” His eyes were filled with hope. It almost disgusted her.

She couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so delighted by any prospect, let alone one involving a guy she was dating – had been dating; an ex.

“He said no.”

He frowned. “No?”

The outrage she was so used to spilling out of him started to surface. She almost smiled.

“He doesn’t want the job, Dad. He just wants…” Say a lie. Say a lie.

“What?” He barked. “What does he want?”

Her tongue betrayed her.

“Me,” she said softly.

Breacher was unaware of the rare tone from her. Instead, he scoffed.

“But he’d have you! Loads more of you if you two would just work together!”

“I don’t want him to take the job!” she snapped, successfully surprising him into silence.

“What?” he asked, unsure if he’d heard her right.

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Dad, I like things the way they are. I’m sorry you had to resign-”

“Don’t be,” he cut her off, spreading his arm wide to showcase the long expanse of beach they were standing on. “I love it here.”

She forced a smile. “Right. Well, I’m sorry you had to find a replacement, but neither Cisco or I want him to take the job, so you’ll just have to find someone else.”

His eyebrows narrowed, finally picking up on some of the tense vibes she was giving off.

“Is everything all right, Cynthia?”

She stilled, going wide-eyed, and then reining herself in, so her dad didn’t figure out more than he already had.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You’re acting weird,” he said in that all-knowing voice of his.

“Dad-”

“Is there another reason Ciscy didn’t want the job?”

Relieved she shook her head. “Not that I know of.”

“Did you talk about it a lot?”

“Enough.”

“Cynthia-” he warned.

“Enough!” Her pitch heightened, her voice cracked, and tears welled in her eyes without her permission. “Dad, can you just…”

She avoided eye contact for a few excruciating seconds before she witnessed a raging red starting to fill the color in her dad’s face.

“Dad…”

“Did he break your heart?” he demanded.

“Wha-”

“If he broke your heart, I’m gonna… And after I offered him a job too.”

He started stomping off before opening a breach, presumably to depart and give Cisco a piece of his mind. At all costs, she needed to avoid that. She was hurting, but so was Cisco. He didn’t deserve her father coming after him, especially when he had done nothing wrong and the man had finally stopped trying to kill him, had finally considered Cisco worthy of his daughter.

Her heart ached when she thought of that.

“Dad, no, stop!” She raced ahead of him and cut off the breach before he could enter it.

“What?” he growled. “No little boy gets away with hurting my little girl. I can’t believe I thought for one second that-”

“Dad.”

He huffed. “What?”

She sighed. The man was exhausting.

“It was mutual.”

“Mutual?”

“We broke up with each other. I’m sad, but…so is he.”

He stroked his chin again. “Why did you break up? You guys are crazy about each other!”

Her shoulders slumped a little. “He wanted more.”

His brows furrowed. “More?”

“He wanted to see me more-”

He rolled his eyes, aggravated again as he started to gesture with his hands.

“But that’s why I offered him the job! I don’t understand why he didn’t-”

“He didn’t want the job, Dad! He just wanted me!”

“But you don’t want him?” he asked, genuinely confused.

She hated that. It meant she would have to explain her feelings, and she really hated explaining her feelings.

“I do want him. I just-” She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut for a few moments. “I don’t want things to change.”

“Why not?” He was suddenly jubilant. “Change can be good! Look at me! I’m on a beach! For the first time since you were a kid! And I couldn’t be happier.”

She opened her eyes. “That’s a little different.”

“How is it different? I was stubborn. I didn’t want to admit something was wrong with me. I wanted a quick solution to fix my problem, so I could keep doing what I was doing. Cisco tried to give that to me, so I wouldn’t kill him.” He chuckled, nostalgic for a moment; then he sobered up.

“But when he realized his mistake, he went after me. Saved me from vampires! And told me the truth. I was angry at first, but when I realized his fear was rooted in never being able to see you again, I respected him. How could I be mad at true love? He loves you, Cynthia.”

She swallowed and nodded. “I know.”

“Don’t you love him?”

“I…I…”

Her heart raced. She felt like she was going to throw up. The question was too hard – too hard – to answer.

“I haven’t-”

“You haven’t told him.”

She felt the heat rush into her cheeks. She had never known her father to be this observant, especially when it came to her romantic feelings about someone. And yet here he was, reading her as well as he read himself – when he wasn’t being a stubborn in-denial ass about his health at least.

“I hated your last boyfriend,” he said.

She rolled her eyes, annoyed.

“I didn’t like any of your boyfriends, actually.”

“I know.”

“I just think you’re so perfect, Cynthia.” She glanced up at him. “You’re my daughter. How could any man be worthy of you?”

“Dad-”

“But Cisco – he proved himself! More than once!”

“He shouldn’t have had to.”

“But he did.”

She was silent.

“I know the last man you love broke your heart,” he hedged cautiously.

“He was killed, Dad. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But you take responsibility for it. You blame yourself.” She looked away. “You shouldn’t.”

“I brought Abra Kadabra in,” she said, not looking at him until she’d wiped the fresh tears away. “Justice has been served. And I’m not…I’m not still in love with him.”

“I know you’re not. You’re in love with Cisco!”

She sighed again. “Dad-”

“You love him, and you’re afraid that if you’re around him too much eventually the same thing will happen to him.”

She didn’t deny it. The possibility had been eating at her. She just hadn’t looked it straight in the eyes long enough to admit it was true.

“If I went and lived on his earth…” she said quietly. “I couldn’t keep doing my job. I love my job.”

“Of course you could!” he insisted. “Just jump to our earth in the morning for your assignments, then do what you need to do and be home for supper, maybe even a surprise lunch. Think of how happy you’d make Cisco.”

Her heart did a flip inside her. It was hard to remember Cisco’s face with anything but tears streaming down it, given the events of the last twenty-four hours. But if she tried hard enough she could remember to months ago when they’d last been alone together under better circumstances. She brought a smile and confidence out of him that she didn’t see with anyone else. Granted she wasn’t usually on his earth long enough to see how he reacted solely with other people, but still…

“I can’t risk it, Dad,” she said firmly. “I’m sorry.”

She turned to walk away.

“Do you know that’s why your mother left me?”

She turned around, her mouth suddenly dry. He never talked about her mother.

“It is. She loved me so much. She loved you so much. And I couldn’t handle it. I didn’t understand how someone as amazing and beautiful and smart as your mother could possibly love me. I came from nothing.”

She swallowed hard.

“They say the first year of marriage is the hardest. Because that’s when you learn what it’s like to live with each other every day and if you can stand it. I convinced myself she wouldn’t still love me after we lived together, so I made myself more difficult than I had to be. She was so loyal, but I became unbearable. And to top it off, I worked as much as I could. I wasn’t a good father to you when you were younger. That’s why.”

“Dad-”

“Eventually I pushed her too hard. She was exhausted from trying for so long when I never met her halfway. She told me she was going to leave, and she was going to take her with you, and you know at first I was going to let her.”

Her eyes bulged, afraid where this was going.

“But less than five minutes after she left to go pick you up from school and take you out of my life for good, I realized what a fool I’d been, how many years I’d wasted that I could have been happy if I’d just let her love me.” He took a breath. “So, I went after her. But I wasn’t fast enough. She got into a car crash on her way to get you, died at the scene.”

She couldn’t speak. Her throat felt like it was closing in on her, and her eyes were so filled with burning tears she couldn’t see out of them.

He approached her.

“I’m not telling you this to hurt you, Cynthia. I’m telling you so you don’t make the same mistake I made. After your mom died…I stepped up as a father as best as I could, for her and for you, to make her proud. I still wasn’t great at it, but look how great you are at what you do, what a fiery spirit you have, and you’re beautiful, just like your mother.”

“Dad.” Her breath caught in her throat.

He closed the final distance between them and closed his hands around her arms.

“I know Cisco loves you. I can see it when he talks about you, when you’re even mentioned. I know he would take good care of you too – not that you need taking care of,” he added when he saw a touch of offense in her eyes. “But if you wanted to be taken care of sometimes, I know he could do it. Don’t let what happened in your past and my past keep you from being happy. You can still do your job, and you can be with who you love. And if it doesn’t work out, you can come live with me!”

She scoffed, but there was some subtle laughter in it.

“Will you talk to him?” he asked gently, then waited.

The prospect seemed impossible. She didn’t want to risk anything. She was so scared of wanting what Cisco wanted with her, because what if it didn’t work out? To experience a loss again the way she had with her mother and the man she’d loved before Cisco… She didn’t know if she could come back from that.

“There’s nothing left to say,” she said quietly.

He tipped her chin up to look at him.

“I think there is.”

She tried to will herself not to cry, but the tears tumbled out despite all her best efforts.

“You love him.”

Her lips parted.

“Then tell him.”

“What good will it do? It won’t change anything.”

“Cynthia,” he scolded gently.

“You think I should move there with him. I should take a risk? Try to make it work even though it scares the hell out of me?” She couldn’t remember if she’d ever been this raw and honest with her father, but the question escaped her, and she needed an answer.

“Love is scary,” he said. “But it’s also beautiful and magical, and we need it.”

“What if he doesn’t take me back?” she asked, various scenarios of rejection speeding through her mind and plummeting any confidence she thought might be building.

“I don’t think that will happen.”

She couldn’t smile back. She could barely nod, but after some brief hesitation, she pressed a quick peck to her father’s cheek and then stepped out of range.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

He was saying something after she disappeared into the portal, but she couldn’t make it out. Her mind was racing, and her heart was pounding, and all she could think was Oh, God, please don’t let it be too late.

…

It occurred to Cynthia belatedly that she hadn’t been many places on Earth 1. Or at least, she hadn’t been many places that Cisco frequented. She’d been to STAR Labs, and she’d been to his apartment. Then whenever help was needed out in the field she was summoned there. Lucky for her, she seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to Cisco Ramon. She thought of Earth 1, and she thought of Cisco, and the breach opened in Cisco’s living room.

Grateful he was alone, but tense as to how she’d get through this conversation with a happy ending at the end of it, she watched as he stilled in front of his refrigerator.

He was dressed in dark t-shirt and pajama pants. It had only been a few hours since their break-up. She hoped she hadn’t been responsible for driving him to this and that he’d just wanted to relax when he got home. She felt a knife twist in her stomach, since she suspected the latter wasn’t the case

“Cynthia?” he asked, probably wondering if she was some sort of dream.

“Hi, Cisco,” she said cautiously, shifting on her feet a little but not stepping in any direction.

It was a long, quiet moment that nearly drove her mad, but eventually he pulled a half-gallon of milk out of the fridge and then closed the door. Her eyes zeroed in on it and she held in a sigh. If I don’t win him back, at least he can drink milk without my lactose intolerance getting in the way.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said, setting the container on the counter deliberately, and she knew he’d been thinking the exact same thing. “Not for a personal call at least, and definitely not this soon.”

She looked away and nodded, her gaze suddenly glued to the floor.

“Yeah…”

He focused his attention of retrieving a cup, pouring himself some milk, and sticking the container back in the fridge.

He came to sit on the couch.

“What can I help you with?” he asked, not sounding uncaring but not particularly interested or invested either.

She took a breath and came to sit on the opposite side of the couch.

“Look, Cisco, here’s the thing…”

He looked up at her, waiting, cup of milk hovering just before his lips. When she seemed to have lost the capability to speak, he took a sip, wiped his mouth, and then set the cup down.

“What?”

She swallowed hard.

“About…earlier…”

“Yeah?” He folded his arms across his chest.

“How are you doing?” she asked, practically wincing through the whole question.

It wasn’t a good tactic, and she knew it. She could see him mentally telling himself not to lash out.

“How am I doing,” he repeated through clenched teeth. “H-How…how do you think I’m doing?” he asked, looking up at her, eyes blazing. “I…I lost the love of my life.”

Her heart did a flip and stung miserably at the same time.

He ran a hand through his hair and sank back onto the arm of the couch behind him.

“How do you think I’m doing?” He threw his hands about. “And what is this? A sympathy call? I don’t need your pity. It’s over. Done. There’s nothing left to say.”

He snatched the cup from the table and stalked across the room. He braced his hand on the fridge and drank greedily, needing to create some distance but stuffing something in his mouth so he wouldn’t say anything else he’d regret.

“Nothing?” she asked, her voice so small.

This was a bad idea, Cynthia. You should not have come here. He doesn’t want to see you. You broke his heart. He doesn’t want to see or talk to you ever again.

The loud sigh broke through her internal berating.

“What did you come to say, Cynthia?”

A part of her wondered if he was tormenting her by calling her by her formal name when she’d repeatedly informed him she preferred the nickname, Gypsy, instead. But she knew that wasn’t the case. When things were raw and real between them, nicknames had no place. And her full first name sounded so good passing through his lips that she was almost tempted to ask him to call her that all the time. Maybe create a nickname that was similar but not so long off the tongue.

If there was an ‘all the time’ after this, of course.

“I didn’t come to pity you, Cisco,” she said, standing up.

“No?” He raised his eyebrows dubiously. “Then what? Do you need help with something on your earth?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

His tone was starting to irritate her.

“You know, I was hurt too. It wasn’t just you crying when we last saw each other, or did you conveniently forget that part?” she spat.

He tossed the plastic cup into the sink roughly.

“I didn’t forget. Did you forget why we broke up in the first place?” He started stalking towards her angrily.

“No,” she ground out.

“Then why are you here? Don’t tell me you had a change of heart.”

The sarcasm laced through her, burning every vulnerable word that would have spilled out of her mouth. It was seething and mean and maybe she deserved it, but it was killing the little confidence she had bit by bit. Soon she’d have nothing left except to spew some cruel remarks of her own and go on her way, cry a little when she got home. Maybe throw something. Definitely be tempted to snatch someone up just for the hell of it and then release them later because after all, they probably wouldn’t have done anything wrong.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words came out.

Her insides were screaming at her to tell him, but her racing heart insisted that the way he was now, he’d never believe her. Maybe he’d insist their break-up had been for the best. She couldn’t bear rejection now, even though she’d given it to him countless times before.

Something in his demeanor softened, but it was clear he was trying to hide it. Now he was the one keeping his guard up.

“Did you have a change of heart?” he asked hesitantly, quietly, not making eye contact.

She knew that was her opening. If she didn’t give the right answer now, he might get angry again. She might never have an opportunity to say what she wanted and for him to be willing to listen and believe it.

So, she nodded subtly.

He seemed to register the movement, even without looking at her, because he flinched and then stared at her straight-on.

“You did?” The disbelief in his voice was clear.

Relief rushed through her.

“Yeah, I… I talked to my dad.”

He stiffened.

She laughed wryly.

“He really likes you now, Cisco.”

His lips twitched at the corners.

“I do have that effect on people.” She glanced up at him. “Usually. Sometimes.” He paused. “In most cases.”

Silence lingered. She took a breath.

“Look, Cisco, I was scared.” He watched her closely, not saying a word. “The truth is…I do want what you want. I want all of it. But…” She licked her lips. “The last guy I was with…he died. He was murdered. And despite getting justice by bringing Abra in…he’s still dead… And I guess I just…”

“You felt responsible.”

“Yeah.” She sighed shakily. “And I lost my mom when I was really young. She died in a car accident.”

“Oh, Cynthia, I’m so sorry.”

She nodded. “It’s fine. It was a long time ago. My dad told me the full story today. I think he hurt from the whole thing more than I did. And not just because he loved her, but because he wouldn’t let her love him until it was too late, and then…” she trailed off, then fixed her eyes on his.

“I…I love you, Cisco.”

His eyes widened.

“I have for a while, but I was terrified to say it, of what it would mean. I didn’t want to get too close to you, spend too much time with you…I found reasons to not visit, because I was so over my head in love with you that I was afraid if something happened to you, I wouldn’t be able to recover, and I-”

But she didn’t get to finish her speech. Because Cisco had invaded her personal space, cupped her face in his hands, and was kissing her, soft and gentle, reaffirming, wiping the tears already tracking down her cheeks.

Startled, but not disappointed, she kissed him back and then cupped his face as well.

“I love you, too,” he said, causing a slow smile to spread across her face. He pulled back, pushing strands of her hair out of her face.

“I know.”

“I want to be with you,” he said, “but I can’t do the couple visits a year thing. I’m ready to go all the way with you, but it’s not going to work if you aren’t too. I can be patient and reassuring and take things slow. You can even get your own place here for a while, but-”

She cut him off this time, kissing him, somehow crowding closer.

“Yes,” she said. “There’s no one else I’d ever want to try that with.”

He licked his lips and started to smile too.

“You know, not to scare you off or anything, but the first time you kissed me, I swore I was going to marry you one day.”

“Cisco,” she warned.

“I know, I know,” he laughed it off. “I’m just telling you. It isn’t like I picked out a ring or anything.”

Yet was so clearly the unspoken message she wanted to scream, but underneath all her fear and apprehension it made her giddy.

She sighed and brushed her hand along the side of his face.

“Cisco…”

He kissed her again, his own heart doing flips.

“So, you’re really doing this? You’re moving here? To be with me? What about your job?”

She rolled her eyes, smiling.

“I can breach to other earths, Cisco. It’ll be easy enough to get my assignments in the morning, carry them out throughout the day, and come home to you when I’m done.”

His sappy grin was her undoing, and she knew she had stars in her eyes.

“Home to me,” he said happily. “I like the sound of that.”

Not even bothering to think up a proper snappy comeback to tease him with, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, kissing him again and again and again.

“Do you like the sound of tha-” he asked, mid-kiss.

“Shut up.” She tried to kiss him again.

“But do yo-”

“You know I do,” she said, and pulled his mouth to hers so she could silence him. “Now shut up, you ass.”

He smiled against her lips, but did as she requested, falling down onto the couch with her and succumbing to the happiness flooding through both of them.

“A cute ass,” he murmured, to which she laughed. “Admit it, I have the cutest-”

“The cutest ass I ever saw,” she confirmed to appease him. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

He was still grinning, which made it hard to kiss, but he did as he was told, and she lost herself in it, in him.

This is worth the risk, she thought. It’s worth coming back. It’s worth everything.

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

[renaroo]

Six Fics for 2016

Heeeeeyyyyyy so who’s doing this meme three weeks late? This guy

I have no reason for my laziness, so apologies to the amazing @secretlystephaniebrown​ who invented this meme and tagged me for my sluggishness! It was just really hard to pick fics, and honestly I only managed to do so by deciding I should only pick ones that are finished and aren’t being continued on into 2017 or are part of ongoing series!

So without further ado, my Six Fics for 2016! May it be a year we never have to repeat again:

6. Caboose Alone (Red vs Blue - 12 Chapters)

[Post-Season 13 Finale] When the smoke cleared, when they finally made it back to their heroes, only one of the Reds and Blues was left standing. Caboose is all alone now.

aka @powerfulpomegranate​ made me do it.

To describe any one day more miserable than the other felt a bit factitious at that point. But if Washington felt like taking a note in hyperbole, he would humor considering the worst days the ones where Caboose had his checkups with Doctor Grey.

Caboose was a large man, nearly half a foot taller than Wash himself, who was already not short by most comparisons. Usually it was an asset that Caboose’s bulk added up to some useful strength, but not when Caboose wanted to do something, or worse when he couldn’t do something.

Wash didn’t remember much after they had boarded the ship, some fleeting gunfire in the distance, shouting -- the images were there, but they were jumbled, scattered. They didn’t run smoothly like a movie reel, but rather were all assorted and mashed back together awkwardly. It was a nightmare -- a massacre -- in that room. The fighting had continued on even as the ship was crashing down and as best as they could estimate, the Reds and Blues had continued fighting even as the ship turned itself on its end.

It meant blood and gore had been everywhere -- on every wall, on the ceiling, over top the ones who had fallen.

And then there was Caboose

5. We Won’t Need 60 Minutes (Batfam/Superfam - 1 Chapter)

Bruce needs someone he can trust to break the news of Cassandra's adoption in the world of media blitz. Fortunately he knows the best.

If you give me a prompt where I can put Lois Lane and Cassandra Cain in the same room, I will absolutely run with it. That’s my promise. 

Give me any prompt in the world that allows me to put Lois Lane and Cassandra Cain in the same room and I will kill over from joy. Or write a sappy one shot.

Lois took a seat at Bruce’s desk and kicked her feet up. “Did Bruce tell you who I was?”

There was a thoughtful gleam behind Cassandra’s eyes that Lois latched onto immediately. Bruce was right, she hadn’t said much but already Lois could see the girl was highly intelligent.

“Yes,” Cassandra answered again.

“Well, he probably did it wrong,” Lois shrugged. She held out her hand and smirked at the girl. “I’m Lois Lane. Reporter for the Daily Planet. Here to ask the tough questions so other reporters don’t have a new spin even if they try.”

4. Worth Fighting For (Red vs. Blue - 1 Chapter)

The lieutenants are sent by the general to scout a distant city for the possibility of reclaiming it after the loss of Armonia. It's a simple scouting mission, but nothing about their discoveries of a war and time before their service is simple.

People forget, but I actually got my start in the RvB fandom by writing stuff that mostly concentrated on my beloved children, the Lieutenants, and getting to focus on them again this year was something I actually put a lot of heart into, though I think it flew under most people’s radars. Oh, well, it was definitely one of my favorites.

“Palomo’s the youngest,” Jensen snorts, patting him condescendingly on the head. “Go figure.”

Palomo takes it, flinching only a little with each thwap but there’s something more serious and focused to his eyes than usual. After he chews on his lip a bit, he looks to the rest of the squad and quietly points out what really should be obvious.

“If you guys are only nineteen… doesn’t that mean none of us were even in kindergarten when the war broke out?” he asks.

They fall silent for a moment, focusing on the words.

“It’s kinda weird,” Palomo shrugs. “I think I’m only a New and not a Fed because that’s what my parents were, y’know? I guess I never really made the choice. I mean. I guess I was lucky! I just got to be on the right side because my parents were on the right side.” He looks at them cautiously. “Right?”

The question hangs between all of them thickly, suffocatingly.

“Of course,” Andersmith finally answers. And it’s settled.

3. Words Better Said (Transformers - 1 Chapter)

[Vaguely post-MTMTE #54] Rewind and Chromedome made it through the Dying of the Light with what remains of the crew, but there are far too many words that are still left unsaid. Sometimes it has to be someone's job to say what, to everyone else, must be obvious.

I need -- I mean, literally, on a visceral level I need to write more Rewind and Chromedome, because I love them so dearly and I have SO many thoughts and feelings about them and their relationship and gosh this was cathartic to get out after MTMTE truly threw us for a loop.

If it were him on the table, his Domey would not have moved, would not have ever looked away. Chromedome’s entire world would have been that seat by Rewind’s side. He knew this because on the Lost Light he had missed, this(his) Domey had done just that.

But Rewind struggled. Not with the commitment, not for a moment because his spark did not pound with worry for his beloved, but because he had to deal with the fact that they hadn’t talked about it yet.

His choice.

The choice Rewind had to make because Chromedome honestly couldn’t see for himself what it was that Rewind thought he so obviously felt.

It hurt to sit there because Rewind was an archivist. His mind was a library of thoughts and memories and neatly packed away reminders of every stupid choice, every dumb word he had made over the last several years.

The case was laid out before him, in Rewind’s mind. And he couldn’t believe how stupid – how selfish he seemed in hindsight.

2. The Problem Is (Batfam - 1 Chapter)

The problem is Harper isn't so sure how to handle her crush.

I will forever be the guardian and patron saint of BrendaxCassandra, no one make any mistake, and with Blüdhaven back in the picture so is the possibility of my all time OTP for my fav, but man CassxHarper can get me RIGHT in the feels, and I adored filling out this prompt. 

Harper specifically has herself cooking for two, and when the night stretches into morning and she’s sitting by a window that hasn’t been opened yet, when she feels her chest twist and ache with disappointment from the day ending without a drop by of Cassandra Cain.

The problem is it’s suddenly a problem when she eats alone. Even if she knows there is no obligation for someone to join her.

The problem is that laundry day waits for a second pair of sweats, and that some pajamas aren’t in rotation because they’re someone else’s favorites to wear.

The problem is that when her playlist gets to “For Good” she cries now laying on her bedroom floor like she never understood the meaning of the song before.

“Uh oh,” Harper says.

Because the problem is that uh oh means she never thought she’d let her guard down enough to hurt this way before. And the problem is that she’s got no one to blame but herself.

1. Took a Wrong Turn at Normal (Red vs. Blue - 1 Chapters)

Simmons was just fine with Grif dating other people. Just fine. No problem at all.

*breaks into your home and bangs on all the pots and pans* EVERY YEAR NEEDS A LITTLE GIMMONS + MISCOMMUNICATION PROBLEMS

While Simmons would never make the argument that things started off innocently, they had been pretty simple at the start of it all.

“It’s like a mutual thing,” Grif had proposed. “I mean, what else are a bunch of guys going to do in the army? Not have sex with things?”

Then again, Simmons did have a tendency to edit history however his brain saw fit.

“I hope by things you mean people and not, like, objects,” he had countered nervously, looking around the barracks.

“Depends on the mood,” Grif deadpanned. “So what do you say, Simmons? Fuck buddies or not? C’mon. Everyone’s doing it.”

Simmons also never quite learned how to deal with peer pressure.

At least it was a handshake he did not later regret.

And that’s my six fics for the year!! Hopefully over 2017 I’ll improve and give you guys more quality!!

[skyshipper]

blog tag

I was tagged by the very sweet @the-blind-assassin-12 (who has the cutest dog in the world in case anyone is wondering). 💛

1. Why did you choose your url?

Oh man, I fucking HATE coming up with blog names because everything I come up with is usually taken.  I started this blog several years ago to celebrate my love of Nick & June from the Handmaid’s Tale. I hadn’t been on tumblr in quite a few years and that ship brought me back to fandom land. I chose “sky” because when I’m on tumblr I feel like my head is in the clouds and “shipper” because I was here to post about a specific ship. Idk, I don’t love it and it’s not even a good concept but it’s staying forever because I loathe coming up with new blog names. I also get really confused on my own dash when people change their urls?? Lol, I’m a visual person. So anyway, that’s it. That’s the name. It kinda sucks but here we are.

2. Any side blogs?

Yep, but I pretty much abandoned it. I’ve found that one blog is more than enough to manage for me. I originally created it when I wanted to post stuff for shows outside of The Handmaid’s Tale. Then I decided that was silly and I should post whatever the hell I feel like. It’s very easy on social media to get caught up in likes, followers, reblogs, etc.....but ultimately I’m here for me.  I know 95% of the people who follow this blog came here for content for another show, but they don’t have to stay and that’s fine. I’m just out here doing my own thing, curating a list of shit I’m into at the moment.  If you’re into it too, then cool!  If not, that is also cool. 

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

I’ve come and gone many times. I think I had a blog around 2014 for a show/fandom that shall not be named, which I rage deleted in a fit one day.  Then I had a lurker blog for a few years.  I think I’ve had this one for maybe 2-3 years??? I don’t think I logged in for the majority of 2020, because the pandemic rollercoaster took an emotional toll on me just like everyone else. I’ve made a conscious decision this year to only spend my free time & social media time on things that are making me feel happy, not anxious, frustrated or sad. Din Djarin brought me back here but I’ve stayed for Pedro Pascal. Pedro makes everyone happy, bless his beautiful soul. ❤️

4. Do you have a queue tag?

Nope. I tried queuing posts for a while but I just found it to be too much work. Now I just reblog/like stuff on the spot. 

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

To celebrate my love of Nick & June from The Handmaid’s Tale. I’m not really into the show anymore because the writing is total shit, but season one (when they were working off of Margaret Atwood’s novel) is still a masterpiece. 

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Because Javier Peña is hot as fuck, that’s why. Listen, I have a hard time picking an icon and get irrationally attached to it when I do. There are so many great Pedro pictures and characters to choose from.  I still think of going back to my original Pedro icon from that Vanity Fair photoshoot because it’s one of my absolute favorite pictures of him and I still love it so much. I’ve been messing around in Photoshop trying to make a cool background for it and have failed miserably to create anything I like thus far.  So for now, Javi is staying.

7. Why did you choose your header?

Once again, because Javier Peña is hot as fuck, that’s why.  I never held a handgun in my life, but ohhhhh, so sexy when fictional characters I love do it. Same with the cigarette smoking. Good lord just thinking about this is making me feel things. 😅

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

This weapons set I made for Din. I’m still shocked that happened because that is BY FAR the most notes I’ve ever received on a post and it will probably never happen again. I peaked too soon, haha!  I just got Photoshop in February or March of this year after making mediocre gifs with a series of phone apps for years.  That was maybe the second or third set I ever made in Photoshop, so I was kind of stunned it took off like that. What can I say, everyone finds Din’s weapons as sexy as I do, I guess.  I do sometimes look at it and wish I would have made better quality gifs but I was, and still am, learning. Now when I look at I try and use it as a reminder that my gifs are slowly improving (at least I hope so anyway) and that makes me happy. I still get notes on that post daily which both surprises me and makes my heart all warm and fuzzy. 

9. How many mutuals do you have?

I’m not really sure because I never went through and counted??? Maybe 30ish?

10. How many followers do you have?

1363, at least 1200 of which came here for Nick & June. I hope all of you like Pedro Pascal & Star Wars because I’m going to be stuck in this mode for a long time!! 🤡

11. How many people do you follow?

157

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

No, not that I can remember anyway. Tumblr & fandom in general are way more fun for me when I spend time focusing on good things.  Life (this past year especially) is hard enough. I just want to bask in the glow of Pedro’s beautiful heart and face, live in the fantasy worlds of Star Wars, read smutty things from amazing writers, and enjoy beautiful gifs & edits from content creators. All of these things bring me joy and that’s why I’m here. This is a positive vibes only space for me.

13. How often do you use Tumblr each day?

Too much??? I like to keep my work tabs open on my computer and then peak at pretty things throughout the day as a little reward when I get stuff done.  Sometimes that leads to unexpected breaks (like reading fanfiction at 11am on a Tuesday) but I’m not sad.  I work for myself so there is no one to get mad at me, just a pile of work that keeps growing because I’m screwing around.

14. Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

Nah. I’m here for pretty things, wonderful writing and nice people. If someone is an asshole I just block them, problem solved. Which has only happened to me once that I can recall and it was years ago. I try to only follow people that cultivate a space for kindness and positivity as well, that way there is nothing to argue about......just mutual pining over lovely things.

15. How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

Ugh, love/hate relationship. I definitely understand why people who create things want as many people to see it as possible. It takes a long time to create gifs/edits/write stories so I see the value in reblogs and user tags as a way to boost posts to get your stuff out there in front of as many eyes as possible.  Personally, I feel like people should reblog things only when and if they want to do it.  I never want anyone to reblog my creations because they feel like they have to do that.  I want them to reblog it because it made them happy and/or they liked something I created. Believe it or not, I notice when a follower of mine is a person that usually only “likes” my posts and then suddenly reblogs something with the nicest tags about a post saying it’s pretty, they love it, etc.  For me, that’s extremely rewarding because something I made resonated with that person.  I also believe that if you’re creating things only for reblogs or likes then you’re focused on the endgame and competition (getting the most notes, etc.) which is never a good headspace to be in for creating things. I know that can be hard because social media creates anxiety, depression and imposter syndrome, but the amount of notes on a post really and truly does not always equate to the best content.  So much of it is timing, or a post getting boosted by bigger blogs so more people see it.  I try to create things for myself first and foremost and if I am doing that and enjoying myself in the process, who cares how many people see it/like it/reblog it? At the end of the day I want to like what I create and feel like I’m improving my Photoshop knowledge & skills. That’s why I’m here and that’s what I try to stay focused on all the time.

16. Do you like tag games?

Yeah, I do. Except the music questions.  Why are there so many music/song questions?  I’m the kind of person that lets someone else pick the music most of the time. I also listen to a genre to fit the mood I’m in rather than a specific artist 95% of the time, so I find those song questions really difficult. I also like tag games because I really love to learn more about other people here. I’m really flattered when someone tags me in something because it means they want to get to know me better and since I’m both introverted and shy I always find that really nice. 🥺

17. Do you like ask games?

Yes!! I always want to do those but if I’m being honest, I’m shy and anxious so I always feel like no one will send me any asks if I do it.  Lol, that is peak anxiety my friends. Let’s just say I’m working up to doing one someday. I absolutely love reading them when others do them.

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is Tumblr famous?

Certainly @javier-pena ......I mean, those Din Djarin’s hottest moments and Javier Peña’s hottest moments are straight up iconic. Also @sirtadcooper whose icons/headers are absolutely amazing, instantly recognizable and rightfully used by so many people because they are fucking awesome!

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

Oh yeah, so many.  I have creator crushes on tons of people that are not mutuals too.  Jfc, there are so many lovely people here creating amazing things.  I will say that @sirtadcooper is honestly one of the sweetest, kindest people I have met in this fandom and one of the most amazing content creators here. A true beacon of original content that I admire greatly. I love that I can pick out her work so easily and that she has a clear style. I aspire to get to that point with my creations some day. @javier-pena makes the mostly insanely crispy gifs and has been very kind about helping me with gif questions in my obsession quest to constantly learn how to become better.  I think her gifs are magic at this point because I just don’t understand how they look that consistently amazing all of the fucking time?? Idk, I’m just glad she shares them with us. @trashcora makes some really amazing gifs that I just don’t even know where to begin. Sometimes I look at stuff like this of hers and wonder if people really appreciate the amount of time it takes to create things like that??  Same goes for @millenniumsfalcon where I just can’t even begin to think about how to create gifs that complex and beautiful. I don’t even know what to say, I’m just going to continue to admire these creations from my little corner of the web. As for writers, I absolutely adore anything @frannyzooey writes. I mean, I’m suddenly living for Dave York porn and I’ve never even watched that film??? I’m convinced anything she writes is pure gold. TMTC is one of the best pieces of fanfiction I’ve ever read. I must confess I’ve only read about 3% of the amazing fanfiction in the Pedro/Mandalorian fandom because I get stuck on Masterlists like hers that are so consistently fucking amazing. That and most of my free hours are spent clowning around in Photoshop. I can’t wait to read more stuff from so many other people here. I promise I have a list much longer than I have time for, but I’m getting there!

Tagging: @keeper0fthestars , @teamnick , & @filthybookworm if you would like to. 😊💛

[mirolovejoyteplitzky]

Page Notes for Book - 23/2/20

I have been obsessing at the moment. Obsessing over other peoples work, over my own work, over photography, painting, music, light emotions. I usually obsess over these things on a daily basis, however this last month has been dramatically extreme. 

Firstly, over Trent Parke’s book ‘Minutes to Midnight’. The book captures a kind of magic. Parke himself often says of his work that he captures reality, or something that was true and truly happened and then creates a fictional narrative out of the images in the way he edits and sequences them. I find them deeply moving, from an aesthetic perspective all the way to the narrative he weaves. What touches me most is he manages to capture this sort of etherial magic or essence that doesn't physically appear in any image yet has some sort of higher quality. Much like you would experience in the Sistine Chapel or in a small Greek church, yet what is particularly touching is that he does it about my country of origin; Australia. Often, Australia is overlooked photographically and artistically which is strange considering what a vast, beautiful landscape it has. There are so many projects that could be done about the country, but what Parke seems to do is weave all these stories into one sweeping romance of one.

On a book layout note, I love this grainy double-page spread, and I absolutely am riveted by the cover, which is made with a basic linen cloth spread.

I also really like the cover of this book and think it makes you want to pick it up and look into it. It has really nice design on the cover and adds to the experience and feel of it. Something to refer to.

Now to get back to the note on capturing a magical, etherial essence, this still from Tarkovski’s ‘The Sacrifice’ manages to negotiate this feeling too. I feel so moved by it, and feel as though I am part of the two people sitting at the table, yet the light and abstraction of distance also separates my desire from being personal to very removed. To me, this image somehow manages to capture romance and love and I cant understand how.

While this image does not affect me with love and romance, it does pluck at the feeling of tenderness. Although, it is of a miserable scene, that of horrible weather, freezing conditions and not very appetising food, I am moved by the light and the story that is unfolding the longer I look at it. This is what I want my book to be, to move my viewer and myself by engaging in the narrative (whatever that may be).

I have been thinking a lot about this and I think the best way to absorb these emotions in images is to be quite abstract in the way of telling a narrative. Take this image. We can gain so much from so little within its borders, there is so much pain, anxiety and misery, yet without telling us so or shoving it down our throats. Its ambiguous, mysterious and begs to be read. This is important in storytelling and in images.

I think where I find such touching moments comes from the light that is represented. This painting does very similar things to me that the Tarkovski still manages. I feel so drawn into its richness, its textures, why it came to be and the light that represents such beauty and simplicity.

Tom Ford’s ‘A Single Man’ uses light in this way and manages to explore narratives purely from symbols, facial expressions and light (colour). Very few words are needed when this is achieved and I have been examining the colour palettes that the film uses.

More to come on my obsessing, specifically in regards to obsessing over my own images...

[shawnjacksonsbs]

“Living with integrity means behaving in ways that are in harmony with your personal values” - Barbara De Angelis     3-3-19

"It's very dramatic when two people come together to work something out. It's easy to take a gun and annihilate your opposition, but what is really exciting to me is to see people with differing views come together and finally respect each other.   ~ Love and trust, in the space between what’s said and what’s heard in our life, can make all the difference in the world.   ~ It’s the knowing that we can be trusted, that we never have to fear the truth, that the bedrock of our very being, is good stuff.”  --All Fred Rogers I received a message from a loved one the other day, later in the evening that read something like a warning out of love, as it were. And unfortunately, for him, I am going to partially quote his words here, with a little editing help, only to ensure nothing is misrepresented. He said "You know I love you. But I honestly feel if you ever want to run a successful local business You need to check some of the shit you put on social media before you get all mad, go back and look at your page. From somebody that's looking at you to come install a very high dollar custom fence." Now before anyone reading says like "It doesn't matter what he says" or "It's your facebook, do what you want" etc., I should probably explain some things. I have a very widespread, and diverse, network of support in my life, now. Now because I accept the support, where before I got my life together I was not so open. I like to think about these people has shareholders, of the stock that is "the well-being of Shawn Jackson Inc." lol Some people hold more shares than the some of the others. Plus all you have to do to be a shareholder is care about me, and want what's best for me. So, obviously, the more you care and play an active role in my life with respect to this, the more shares you hold. Therefore what he said, has to be taken under advisement. That's just how I live my life now. The key here is that the controlling interest shareholder is none other than yours truly, Shawn M Jackson. The craziest part of that whole, having diverse shareholders is that several some of the top ranking officials who actually sit on that board, as he does, and his father does, and the father of the cousin I lived with, in Washington does, is that they are all, generally on the opposite sides of my political positions in varying degrees. Which because of the love and respect I have for them allows for more listening to them with my heart to hear what they say, as opposed to always listening to respond. They have earned their places at that board, and their spots in my life. They will always be heard, even if when we disagree, which is quite frequent. lol Getting back to my conversation with him I responded with-now this is paraphrased slightly, but "It's not about where I stand completely. It's about mature positive growth on something that interests me, as well as a fuck ton of other people to include some in my friendslist. It's about connecting and debating different sides, engaging people on both sides as I grow too. Plus my push for kindness (shared with Fred Rogers) and the lower level, mission for civility (that I cosigned with Will Mcavoy), will always be a part of my side as well. I knew full well what part of the country I was moving back to and still moved back here. I have people on both sides of the aisle in my friendslist who I talk with constantly. And even though, we don't agree, I care for them or they wouldn't have an opinion on my page anyway, it's about learning to express and share, and sometimes joke and for entertainment. There is way too much for this, but it is now a topic for Sunday." I know I said "money be damned", and I meant that, after a little thought, principles matter, and I asked myself "what example do I want to set, for my kids, for my grandkids, for anyone really?" My future plans for limited success, in my field, is extremely risky as it is, but I plan to completely segregate any and all of business side from my personal life, to include social media, and anything online. Should a potential customer decide to dig hard enough, or to check on my personal beliefs, before making a decision and then decide against using me, then I can tell you, without batting an eye, that I wouldn't want to do their fence anyway. Period. Full stop! They aren't basing their opinion of my work on my integrity, or quality of work, or even word of mouth. They are doing exactly what I stand up so hard to fight against that I believe is wrong in this world. They have that right, and I will not be upset if they do not choose me, but I also will not lose sleep over it. --I will add, that if they read my blog, with all the recovery, and ex-drug addict and the use/abuse, and ex-con rhetoric, I would be more inclined to try and prove myself to them, like I did overcome all of the messed up shit that I have been through, and that has happened to me, and am making right as I can, all the wrong I have done and damage I have caused.-- Money is money, and work is work. If they believe differently than I do, but still choose to hire me, I would probably inherently work harder for them, do my absolute best for them, maybe even my best of the best work, because of this. Moving back to this part of the country had more cons, than pros as far as work and success for me, if I listed them all in here, but I moved back anyways. I chose to fight all those hardships to try and make a better life for me - with my family. Of course the struggles would have been minimal back in Washington, but my family is here, my heart is here. It has already been the best emotional investment ever. I have waking up each morning with the love of my life next to me, I see my kids pretty regularly, and the biggest returns on my investment have been that I have filled my place at my grandchildren's birthday parties! Even if I never succeed with my fencing business, its already been worth the trip. Hell, this part of the country makes it nearly impossible to only do construction year round. The winters here are miserable. Banking money to get you through, or holding unfavorable jobs, or doing odd and end jobs, or side jobs are how its mostly done. I am not above doing things like what I am currently doing to bring in money, which is a glorified food delivery boy.  I can almost make in a 12 hour day, what would have taken me at least 5 in Washington! lmao But we are good. I am being useful, with no shame. Things are still amazing and will continue to be so long as I allow them to be. Plus I know one thing for sure, if I ever decided that being successful only with fence, is what I truly want and can't out here because of my outspoken beliefs, there is always a spot waiting for me where, without a doubt, I can and would succeed, Washington. To get back on point real quick, I want to touch on a little more since I am here for that. lol My conversation continued with him saying "That's a thing for sure. I still don't care for people in general. My crew is small." and although my true life crew is extremely small as well, I said "I get that, but I care about all of em though, so our end games are slightly different. Not in every way, but definitely in some, probably less important to you, but way important to me. And that's ok too. Its part of what makes us who we are and that's all anyone can expect from anyone else. Don't get me wrong, if anything I ever wrote changes any part of your heart towards others I would be thrilled, but my life isn't over because you don't see things my way. I enjoy growing, and talking to people who differ is part of that. Although I could do without hate, racism, bigotry, etc" I believe we are all models of the sum of shit and blessings we endure in life. Those experiences are what make up our whole being, the good, the bad, and the indifferent. All of my experiences, have made me more of who I think I should be, not less. Coming from a very religious, and pretty conservative part of this country, is probably why I feel I should talk louder, and learn more, and then talk louder, then learn more etc, in the things I see, and for what I think they are. You do not have to agree with me about things like police overreach, political corruption, and racism, at least as I do, but everyone should find injustices disturbing, everyone. Therefore we should use that as a commonplace stepping off point for real honest debate, and real true to life change. Comprising personal principles is not the same thing either, for an individual, as it is to a larger collective. "Any compromise on mere fundamentals is a surrender. For it is all give and no take." Mahatma Gandhi It is pretty obvious to most people that I don't think our country is doing very well, and that can all do better, but its more than that. I believe putting it all off on country, is to take away from the shared responsibility, that it is of ours, to do some things differently to try and get there. (I do not believe,m in any way, that Donald Trump is the answer lol) I will stand with Ellen first “I stand for honesty, equality, kindness, compassion, treating people the way you want to be treated, and helping those in need. To me those are traditional values.” - Ellen Degeneres That, I suppose, is enough for today, for this week. lol Continue to share the love and the laughter with the world around you, and please be kind to each other always, but if you fall short then at least be civilized, for your sake, as well as their's. Until next week just try and aspire to it; "Fine. [to the liberal panelist] Sharon, the NEA is a loser. Yeah, it accounts for a penny out of our paychecks, but he [gesturing to the conservative panelist] gets to hit you with it anytime he wants. It doesn't cost money, it costs votes. It costs airtime and column inches. You know why people don't like liberals? Because they lose. If liberals are so fuckin' smart, how come they lose so GODDAM ALWAYS!

And [to the conservative panelist] with a straight face, you're going to tell students that America's so starspangled awesome that we're the only ones in the world who have freedom? Canada has freedom, Japan has freedom, the UK, France, Italy, Germany, Spain, Australia, Belgium has freedom. Two hundred seven sovereign states in the world, like 180 of them have freedom.

And you—sorority girl—yeah—just in case you accidentally wander into a voting booth one day, there are some things you should know, and one of them is that there is absolutely no evidence to support the statement that we're the greatest country in the world. We're seventh in literacy, twenty-seventh in math, twenty-second in science, forty-ninth in life expectancy, 178th in infant mortality, third in median household income, number four in labor force, and number four in exports. We lead the world in only three categories: number of incarcerated citizens per capita, number of adults who believe angels are real, and defense spending, where we spend more than the next twenty-six countries combined, twenty-five of whom are allies. . ." ". . We sure used to be. We stood up for what was right! We fought for moral reasons, we passed and struck down laws for moral reasons. We waged wars on poverty, not poor people. We sacrificed, we cared about our neighbors, we put our money where our mouths were, and we never beat our chest. We built great big things, made ungodly technological advances, explored the universe, cured diseases, and cultivated the world's greatest artists and the world's greatest economy. We reached for the stars, and we acted like men. We aspired to intelligence; we didn't belittle it; it didn't make us feel inferior. We didn't identify ourselves by who we voted for in the last election, and we didn't scare so easy. And we were able to be all these things and do all these things because we were informed. By great men, men who were revered. The first step in solving any problem is recognizing there is one—America is not the greatest country in the world anymore." - Will Mcavoy (played by Jeff Daniels) from The Newsroom

[queimadoresdieta]

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[nicestbitchyoulleverlove-blog]

FML

So today has been a rough one, but I started this blog in part to hold myself accountable for my behavior, so I am just going to keep it real.  I am devastated by my marriage ending, especially how it did.  I cannot fathom being with another person right now, and it kills my heart to know he moved on so quickly.  What did I do wrong? Am I ugly?  Did I drive him away? Can I fix this?  What happened to the man I married?  Its a lot.  I am finding myself a thirty two year old woman desperate for friends and a sense of belonging.  I look desperate.  I am desperate.  I have disclosed to you guys in part why I cannot drink.  I am the type of alcoholic that does not wake up with the shakes every day.  I get triggered, have panic attacks, and then want to self medicate.  Today, I self medicated.  I drank.  And nothing good came from it other than me making an ass of myself.  I could not stop texting my ex.  No matter how hard I tried, its like I just HAD to get the final words in....even when he would not respond, I kept going.  Yikes.  The rational side of me knew I looked pitiful and sad, but the irrational part was screaming “TELL THAT MOTHERFUCKER EXACTLY HOW YOU FEEL.”  I do not recommend the latter.  I did not feel any better after sending the heinous messages...and I am sure he and his new love mocked my desperation.  Moral of the story, some people just do not give a flying fuck if they hurt you.  I cannot sit around the rest of my life waiting for an apology.  In his mind, he did nothing wrong.  Although I cannot grasp the horrific things he has done, he is clearly capable of doing those things.  I do not even want to be with someone like that...why am I clinging to him?  Bottom line...I invested my life into this man.  I gave him my cars.  I gave him all of my money.  I turned against family.  I lied for him.  I took him back after he cheated and hurt me physically.  I thought our histories made us destined to be best friends.  But clearly not, because he can manipulate me to leave treatment, move across the country, and shit on me while not feeling sorry one bit.  That hurts....bad.  People look at me with little to no sympathy stating “Jesus get over it already.”  haha oh my gosh if only it were that simple.  I don’t know much, but I know love.  Its magical.  Its once in a life time.  It makes a black and white world turn to color.  It makes music fill my soul.  It gives life a meaning.  I had that with my ex.  We zinged.  But I cant dwell on that anymore.  We no longer “zing.”  I can sit here saying I am over it and what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger, but then I’d be a damn liar.  This is one of the worst pains I have ever experienced.  And no matter how much I call my ex names or think of how big of a loser he his and always will be, I cannot get over that man.  But was I honestly happy with him?  After really looking back, I was miserable with him.  We were growing apart years ago...we both knew it but we fought on and off because we did really love one another.  The part that gets me, is that we did not even end civilly.  We really did not end at all.  Although I know my ex, and know he feels horrible about what he did and cannot face me, he owed me a face to face break up.  Let me say how he hurt me.  How he hurt my children.  Even just talk about what we really loved about one another.  He cannot even do that.  And I need to stop hoping he ever will.  His actions showed me he is done and no longer loves me...I need to accept that harsh reality....although I never want to. One word of advice, though, seriously is that if you are with someone...married or dating...and you just aren’t feeling it...fix it or give your partner the respect of a break up.  It is cruel to be a coward.  I begged my ex for the truth and he refused to honor that.  Knowing would have absolutely been better than feeling like hes cheating and that I am bat shit crazy.  Not cool, man.  Not cool. Why did you even keep me around?  Ya used me...thats why.  To be the “cool guy” with the hot, smart wife that is a raging bitch but in a sexy way....who will inevitabley be successful someday because nothing stands in her way.  And I always took you back.  You are probably thinking right now I will take you back any time.  I normally would have...but not now.  I literally almost died out of devastation.  My children almost lost me.  I almost lost my chance to show the world how RESILIENT I am.  A couple months out from that and I am on my way to an amazing full time job with benefits...with a team that supports my vision and believes in me.  My daughter adores me.  I edit papers and do algebra and give my babies baths.  I wasn’t even a good mom really because my ex always came first.  I always loved him more.  And it was literally never reciprocated.  I took the love of my children for granted...and I will never, ever let that happened again.  I have never been more excited to find myself, but I’m also heartbroken.  I never thought I would have to live life without my ex.  Miserable or not, I wanted him day in and day out...like a real marriage should be.  I am not a quitter and I did not take getting married lightly.  He bailed when times got tough, and I feel like that is a damn shame.  Not everyone almost loses their father in an emergency where he was fine one moment and dying the next.  Especially the father that took FMLA when my PTSD was too overwhelming for me to go back to school for awhile.  He never judged me.  He always supported me....and in one day my whole world changed.  I am blessed, he survived.  He woke UP from a serious coma...remembering me!!! But it is not the same.  It will never be the same.  And it is hard to watch.  I see my main role model of courage and strength unable to feed himself, drive, work, or do anything really to enhance his quality of life.  He cries a lot.  And I just want to take the pain away, but I can’t..  I do not wish my ex almost losing or losing someone that is his world, but someday we all lost someone that makes us change our ways or think about our lives.  Anyone who walked a mile in my shoes would see that some incredibly serious shit Ihas happened, and I am just doing the best I can.  I want to make my pain a testimony, but I am not perfect.  Today I tried to drink my feelings and failed miserably.  The pain is still here.  I need to be strong, trust in God, and accept my circumstances.  I am starting totally over.  The man literally kept all of my belongings...but now I get to say I truly was the only one to rise up from nothing.  No one is helping me...except a few good friends that let me cry ugly cries and hold me.  I have done some really shitty things in my life, I will be the first to admit that...but I did not deserve how I was treated.  It was really, really bad.  And humiliating.  Now I want to shut down and never make friends again.  I get rageful when I try to explain myself.  I hate people that judge or make fun of me.  I am delicate right now.  I want real love.  Like, friend through thick and thin love.  I’m sick of thinking everyone has an ulterior motive with me.  I want to me loved and cherished for who I am.  My ex does not love me.  He is not sorry.  But I am here, still breathing. Still fighting.  And imperfect, but really trying to change.  Thanks ya’ll for letting me vent.

[partheniacaire1-blog]

Jessica Alba's Best 10 Rules For Company And Effectiveness.

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