#like lol btw wtf etc…

[doueverwonder]

Actually texting people who use perfect grammar is horrible

[desognthinking]

WIP... Wednesday

Tagged by @willowedhepatica  (thanks!) I'm so sorry that this comes so late 😭 life got in the way. Not sure who i can tag who has things in the works they can share, but please Please know if anyone has any snippets or sneak peaks I would love to see them and yell about them with you pleaseee

Not strictly a WIP but here’s just under 3.5k of an oldish experimental AU inspired by this post :’) in this one they’re… *checks notes*, ah, hmm. Chimerical tomb guardians carved from stone.   

-----

It’s a wickedly stormy day when a procession scores up the hill through beating rain and blowing dust, but there’s no time to waste. The wedding will not wait, and on its occasion, as a symbol of the new ties between the families of the bride and the groom, there is a terrible, beautiful new guardian grotesque to be received by the Silva tombhouse from the Salviuses. 

It is surely mounted on the property sometime during the silver-black onslaught of sky upon earth, but Beatrice cannot clearly see it through the rain and the  maze of trees that still separates the Silvas from their neighbors. The families on this hill are not quite rich enough to expand at the pace of the wealthiest among them, who slice and raze to add to their already broad campuses of tombs. Instead, in this part of town, modest, often unmatching clusters dwell amongst the wildflowers and long-lived trees sprayed across the land. 

Beatrice likes the nature. Her perch is kept cool by the damp and dewy mornings, birdsong flickering from above and around. In the filtered haze of heat and light there is some measure of peace too – here, there is less to fight over, and fewer lines of tension between the families. Hidden by farther slopes, there are fewer threats from beyond. And, overshadowed by the lower circuit of large gated tombhouses, there are far milder spoils for aspiring robbers. 

It’s from one of these large inner-city tombhouses that the new stone protector is said to arrive. The Salviuses have money spilling out their hands and down their wrists. It’s said, it’s said, it’s said – it’s whispered in the wind that carries the falling leaves from vine to vane, so easy for Beatrice to stretch up and put an ear to. The pollen clouds dispersed over grass in shapes spelling disruption  and newcomer. It’s gossiped over pages in the library, first with smug nods and just you wait and see, dear, we’re never wrong from the grandfathers and grandmothers as Beatrice pores through the volumes in the upper shelves, precious books pressed so high and so far back that they’re backed into both wall and ceiling. 

Then, inevitably, it carries through the air in the giggles and hushed gasps of the living members of this family, hands curling over yarn and needle as the youngest children breathlessly run and hide behind the walls and in the shadowy pockets of the tombhouse. The Great-great-great Grandmother who had been the first to break the news is mollified by the confirmation, and generously refuses to gloat.

A Silva girl is marrying a Salvius boy, and the Salviuses are pledging a guardian – the spirits know they have too many anyway, but still, a Salvius guardian – to this hill. 

“You’ve got to go over and see what’s going on,” Beatrice is instructed one morning, in no uncertain terms. They’re going over integration by partial fractions on the little platform at the back that looks down over the mills: her, Great-Grandfather, and Lilith, who’s slunk over yet again from the Villaumbrosias’ for some ‘peace and quiet’, and also because Beatrice’s family likes her for some mysterious reason. They pretend it’s because they need the extra pair – or, well, pairs, in Lilith’s case – of eyes. The massive, foreboding, Villaumbrosia affair the next hill over already boasts so many fearsome hands on deck, and they only have one Beatrice. 

Great-grandfather is gentle and teasing about it; Beatrice (and Lilith, although she will never admit it) is his favorite captive audience. 

Of course, it’s easy to treat her as one of their own on mornings like this — quiet summer days when she’s stripped of silica and scale, descended from her weatherworn perch. Devoid of the coarse matter of rock and metal twisted into hungry, flame-spitting fangs, and instead merely a soft-spoken spirit in a youthful skin. When the great grandfathers and mothers and their grandfathers and grandmothers look at her and see dark, almost-human eyes and loosely-bound hair in a bun above her shoulders.  

And when Beatrice walks Lilith out and across the rocky way that leads home, it’s easy for them to wave the two of them off. After all, Lilith is just a young woman with black waves she tucks carefully behind her ears and a handsome, slanting jaw that could almost pass as being real; as being pressed and molded with muscle and mandible and a fragile, mycelial network of vasculature and nerves. Not another delicate illusion that would slip and shatter at the first sign of danger, revealing in a flash the grotesque ugliness within.

There hasn’t been an attack in a while. When there hasn’t been an attack in a while Beatrice thinks the family tends to forget where exactly they hold court.

(Here, cradled close enough within these hills to walk back to where home once was. Children’s handprints on the threshold, coal scribbles on the floor. Walls still perfused with the fragrance and vapor of hot homemade stew.)

This is a graveyard. This is a necropolis, a city of the dead. It slithers amongst the roots of the living but does not make a home of it. In its palm lies the fragile in-between, the sickly sweet intersection where the living and the after-dead mingle like the meeting of two clouds. Within its grounds the family is wont to forget the ruthlessness that’s sometimes needed to keep it in balance.

Once they depart, Beatrice and Lilith’s guises fall away. Invisible to a still-beating heart, two terrible chimeras gouge skid-marks through the dirt to get to the Villaumbrosia citadel before its guests arrive at ten-thirty. Miraculously, only twice during the entire trip does Lilith half-heartedly threaten to snap Beatrice’s tail off. 

They make it there just in time. Beatrice watches as Lilith sweeps her way up the manicured moss columns and melds, in a quick thrash, with the magnificent dark-gray creature of stone that lunges out from the south turret. Frozen like this: mouth curled in a snarl and sharp wings flung out – in mockery, in bombast, in warning; Lilith at her most vindictive and most frightening, the elaborate Villaumbrosia insignia branded hot and painful down her side.

Beatrice knows it hurts, of course. Perhaps less so like this but certainly in the flesh, where it is always red and raw like the day it was carved down Lilith’s ribs in the workshop. Preserved unchanging in the meat as it is preserved forever in the rock. Lilith winces, when she thinks the others aren’t looking, but Beatrice knows. Camila might say something – probably does say something, but Beatrice doesn’t. She understands too well, and after all, what can they do?

After all, this is their work. This is life: whatever is asked of them. For Lilith today, it is to be a showpiece for guests at a bloated, overwrought tea ceremony. Broadly, it is watchman, and protector, and advocate. And at times like these, when there is a stir in the tangled ecosystem of bloodlines and their guardian-creatures, Beatrice is called upon to be an ambassador. 

So, the day after the storm, Beatrice leaves her perch to seek out the Silvas. She glides down from the still-slippery stone, and lands softly on the wet earth, scale meeting fur meeting soil and humid air. 

In her hands – her metaphorical hands – she clasps fistfuls of string that stretch, infinitely thin, to every corner of her tombhouse. She flexes each one and puts it between her teeth as she steps over the threshold and into the trees, testing their elasticity and tensile strength. If there is to be a twang, however minute, she must feel it. There is only one of her at home.

As she approaches the Silva tombhouse the air around her shifts and seems to solidify into a medium both probing and warning. Beatrice stills, allowing the woods to see her and course through her calmness. They know her, of course, and she waits for them to pass on the message to the newest guardian, still incredibly sensitive to the prickle of unfamiliar movement and sound. 

Presently, physically, the world exhales. 

Beatrice cautiously continues forward, until the treeline peels away to reveal the Silva tombhouse.

Tombhouse, as it goes, is a misnomer – a tombhouse is a complex rather than a single shell. It is no single cell for a coffin, but a collection of connected mausoleums and courtyards and passageways and corners and gates, lifted high and tunneled low. And as befitting a clan of esteemed craftsmen, the Silva tombhouse is a harmonious set spiraling outwards in organic whorls. Its walls are scraped clean and brushed beige, curled and leafed and folded in at the edges. Delicate and pretty in its strength in a way Beatrice’s own plain, stoic little set of residences could never be.

At the top of the central mausoleum, bounded by a parapet, rests a flat platform. On that ledge sits the new grotesque. 

Ink-black stone peeks curiously down at Beatrice. 

Immediately it is clear that she is like nothing Beatrice has ever seen before. Yes, as is tradition she is joined and jawed together piecemeal from various symbolic beasts, but this composition and style is unique. 

She’s simultaneously entirely unlike both the typical statues produced by-the-dozen in the workshops, and the specially commissioned sculptures like Beatrice herself. This guardian is a patchwork of shapes and textures Beatrice has only ever seen in the watercolor sketches of her tombhouse’s own library as belonging to exotic creatures from faraway places. Still other elements escape her recognition and description, and everything meshes deftly at smooth, near-invisible seams. 

Perhaps this isn’t surprising in a Salvius guardian – Jillian’s own commission too, it’s rumored. No less should be expected from someone the alchemists and scientists alike shy away from. Jillian Salvius considers herself a traveler, and a collector, and a dabbler, and Beatrice hears that the spokes of her gates are gnarled and carved in strange patterns from foreign lands.

The guardian shifts and cocks her head curiously, and Beatrice pulls herself together sharply.

“Hi,” the creature says. “You must be the neighbor from the east.”

Beatrice snaps back into polite, exceedingly proper posture. She nods, dipping forward in a movement resembling a bow. It makes the high-perched creature giggle, gauzy like air.

“Good morning,” she replies. “My name is Beatrice, and you’re right. How did you know?”

The guardian doesn’t answer. She separates from her stone in a miasma of color, swoops down noisily, and lands, a little clumsily, on a lower ledge. “Two heads, huh?” she says, thoughtfully. “Kinda perfect for the scholars.”

It’s not said judgmentally; more so with a further curious slant of her head, observational and light. Beatrice feels strange and semisolid all over.

She doesn’t correct the new guardian; tell her that no, she hadn’t actually been crafted or blessed for this bloodline, only gifted to them just one generation ago. And gifted rather carelessly, at that; an obligatory token presented upon the death of the benefactor’s tutor.

Before that her two heads were designed not as a tribute to wisdom or a paean to collaboration, but in order to stare proudly over an excessive estate, stretching out in opposite directions over land too vast for merely one head to behold. An arrogant symbol of not just physical, but political reach. She was a status symbol for powerful people – two-faced might be a better descriptor. 

Beatrice has always considered this with some bitterness, but today, she oddly feels no urge to self-flagellate. She feels, suspiciously, nothing at all; a fuzzy blank.

Instead, in response to the guardian, Beatrice blinks. Both of her heads do. They crane and incline together, like long-necked birds bending to convene. She feels sharp ears on each one twitch and flutter.

The creature laughs again. She descends further to the porch, then approaches Beatrice slowly. “I’m Ava,” she introduces herself, finally. Shyly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Ava,” Beatrice repeats, careful and hushed. She parses it over and traces it as though threading a needle – how the strange, simple symmetry of the word, the hypnotic up-down-up of A-V-A,  doesn't begin to encompass the entity approaching her. On cue, Ava does a funny, shuddery motion that cascades down her whole form. 

Beatrice, leaning her heads over old tomes like water jugs tipped over a parched tongue, dreams of fantastical things, from places that often sound even more surreal. And yet before her now stands the most peculiar thing alive yet, that defies everything she’s known and seen. 

Yes, clearer now before her eyes, Ava is a patchwork of impossible parts. 

Up close Beatrice can see she’s also a riverbed of illusory things. Small divots seem to scoop themselves out, sink deep, and then ripple back up into the surface of her body. Bubbling, and collapsing, and reforming, like springs of molten mother-of-pearl. Each little cavity shimmers like roughened gemstones: a gasping, dark blue, like well water under the sun; or a moody green like the light-starved undershade in a storm; or a thawing amber that Beatrice cannot even describe except that it looks like the smell of hot bread with a sweet cream core, tempting and steaming.

“Beatrice,” Ava echoes, her eyes gleaming and dark. They bubble expressively and endlessly deep. Gazing at Beatrice, straight, still and pondering. Searching. 

Silence stretches until it doesn’t. 

Something snaps – a bird on a twig above –  and Ava shakes herself awake. “Where’s my manners!” she exclaims suddenly. “Come on,” she swishes around gamely. Beatrice, bewildered, sneezes. 

She’s learning quickly that when Ava laughs, the dense tassel-like feathers on the back rise in delighted reflex and splay apart. 

The two of them slip between trees into a little glade, buoyed by her relentless charm and a thrumming current of something else, in the undertow.

Once upon a time, this was a courtyard, although now that the Silva tombhouse has unfurled in the opposite direction it’s been allowed to tastefully overgrow into its former self, mossy and scruffy. Old pieces of wall and pillars still cordon off one side; Beatrice resists the temptation to bound about and explore, and instead parks herself primly at a corner, not fidgeting.

Ava has no such compunctions. She wriggles herself into a comfortable position on a large boulder. Her weapon of a tail dangles down and bats at the ground idly, uprooting chunks of grass. 

“How are you finding it here?” Beatrice asks, trying very hard to be normal. 

“Honestly? I don’t know yet,” Ava grins, “and you’re the first one of us I’ve met here.” 

She pauses, cocks her head to one side so strikingly. The gesture almost looks human. “You know, my new folks think very highly of you,” She looks appraisingly over Beatrice with an indecipherable expression.

Beatrice feels quite hot. “Mine are curious about you.”

There is a shift in the air as Ava straightens abruptly. Her tail stills. “What will you tell them?”

Beatrice bites her tongues, undecided. She’d meant to think of it later, to phrase and rephrase and turn the words over and over in her mouth on the way back to get them right. It takes a while, usually, to distill her thoughts precisely into words that balance both insinuation and tone, and half the time it ends up all too stilted and formal anyway. How people seem to be able to do that, off the cuff – it’s confusing. Far easier, Beatrice thinks, to sit quietly beside and let such people do the talking.

Especially now that this seems, somehow, to be important to Ava. And especially now that she finds she doesn’t quite have any of the words.

If Beatrice had hands she would wring them. She thinks, distantly, of what someone else wiser than her might say. “They’ll agree with me that you’re certainly unique,” she starts, and it’s like Shannon’s talking through her, stately and gentle. Bold, like Mary. 

She adds, in an abrupt impulse that’s, alarmingly, all Beatrice, “I do think you’ll fit in well here.”

“Oh,” Ava seems surprised. Her tail, heretofore curled tightly on the boulder, relaxes and turns a loose arc in the air, hacking at the grass. “Thanks,” she looks at Beatrice, and inhales sharply, although not unkindly. 

Pauses. Sheepishly, she adds, “I’ve heard some people, uh, calling me devilish and other things, you see. But you know, it’s fine. Whatever.”

Beatrice grimaces involuntarily, then schools her expression back into an empathetic nod. It’s not unexpected. There’s bound to be a procession of curious gawkers and onlookers filing through to try and catch a glimpse of something hailing from the elusive Salviuses. Beartice knows the type: traditional, gossipy and busybodies.

They’ll take one look up the roof and gasp in disbelief or disgust, probably. Sneer up at the twisted, unnatural proportions, if they’re brave. Ava runs too close to the precipice of their diluted tolerance.

“The Silvas are good people. They’ll stand by you.” Beatrice isn’t sure if it helps, but it’s true. The households here are the little silver lining of this part of town, otherwise ragged and out of the way and a little discordant in its hues.

Ava exhales gently. Beatrice thinks there’s a small smile there. “I know.”

“It doesn’t make it easier.”

“Yeah. I know,” repeats Ava, her eyes shining, and it’s almost like she really does. 

Beatrice understands. They did it to her, too, after all.

The people who commissioned her had made a puppet of her. They had demanded a departure from classical references and therefore affixed to her frame things like startling, swiveling joints and odd angles.  Two heads, of course, among other modifications – all in an arrogant, ambitious drive to defy tradition and create a visionary symbol of fear and envy.  Instead, the lay beholder glanced upon the warped anatomy and thought it blasphemy. And so, Beatrice rapidly became that to her own family too: acrid to the eyes, rotted in the soul, a disembowelment. Failure. An embarrassment. 

The whispers billowed large like cotton sheets drying in the fields, caught and blown out in the wind.

It was a matter of time. Beatrice imagines the tiny family offspring being taught their true oral history in a sugary sick little chant, clapping their chubby hands cheerfully and squealing every grim word, 

Then the old teacher died / and it was a great relief / The family rushed to ready / a token of public grief

Her, of course. Her, and not any of the cruder, more sedate, stone guardians that studded the estate. The small ones who, on a good day, sat patiently and circulated air and respired noisily, and who were not capable of thought or pain. The family had a lot of them lining their walls, not much more than large decorative lumps of dough programmed to trap, waylay, or bite at intruders. 

Instead, they parted ways with the looming, ghastly and elaborate figure that guarded one of their main wings, and painted it as a great outpouring of sadness. Beatrice knew better.

The whole event was swift; almost planned in advance. She’d barely had time to send an urgent warning to Lilith before she was gone – a failed experiment in pomposity that took an unforeseen and regrettable turn into the profane. 

In a matter of days she was transplanted from lush green gardens into dry hills bathed in reedy, half-obscured sunsets. The kind of neighborhood her old family would call avant-garde or ‘forward-thinking’, although with a scoff that betrayed what they really thought.

And at night, looking down to sleeping homes, Beatrice would hear in the nothingness the same whispers splashing down the stone like rain, all over again.

Mindlessly, now, she has the sudden urge to reach out and feel. Fluttering cells or hardened stone, it doesn’t matter. She wants to transmute a hand of tender human pulp and skin, and run fragile fingers softly over the strangest braided foldery and flattening of membrane, bumps and spindles until they catch, pierce and bleed. 

And she so badly wants to tell Ava: I think you’re nightmarish and very beautiful. You would hold an army off this humble hill. like holding out a pathetic little bundle of flowers– but she doesn’t. It’s too long and too much; I’m here. is too short, and both are too naked. She’s not that kind of creature. She’s carved from solid rock and even when she sheds it it still feels like its weight chains her to the earth.

Her voices remain even and steady, somehow. 

“I –This isn’t the customary welcome and introductory visit,” Beatrice confesses, in lieu of it all.

“Oh. It’s not?”

Beatrice shakes her heads. “There’ll need to be a more official one.” 

The overlapping layers of spines along Ava’s limbs rise and then flatten, quickly.  “So I’ll get to see you again soon?” 

Feeling warm, or moist, or something like a pillar of pressurized foam, Beatrice clears her throats. “I suppose so. Yes.”

[loverboydotcom]

23 is such a weird age for me because i feel like i've been in my twenties for 20 years (probably bc of covid) but also there is still so much twenties left but also i feel so much older than i did at 21 or even 22 (probably bc of the Trauma) so i don't feel like i'm in my early twenties the same way i was before esp knowing that i'll turn 24 next year which feels like such a step up compared to 22 -> 23 (to me!!!) because it's so close to 25.....i feel like i've been alive for a thousand years and was also born yesterday

[vexahlla]

im so RAAAAAAAA CONFUSED

[james-is-nasqueer]

uuughhh fuck cops

[chrissdollie]

Dad Bakugo x mom reader - I need more children in my life 😭✋🏾

def calls his kid "squirt" and "buddy"

in mY universe, he has a boy and a girl bc he needs the best of both worlds

CALLS YOU "MA" GOODNIGHT

we all know he wakes up really early, earlier than you even, so he's the one to check on the babies/kids every morning to see if they're ok :)

definitely keeps schedules of you and your kids days like exams, report cards, if they're going to a friend's house, etc

yk how most kids tend to be like "ewwww" whenever their parents kiss?? not ur kids nono. first of all, your son is the quieter one. not that he's not talkative, he just has a little bit of a hard time expressing himself. anyhow, his sister is very loud. but either way, they both think its sweet. your daughter even said something like "i hope my husband kisses me like that" once (when she was an older kid tho lol)

your son goes to talk to you a lot. he adores you so so much. but one day when he wanted to hang out with you, you weren't home. you were busy running errands while katsuki was at home watching tv. your son started crying and katsuki was like wtf?? eventually, your son grew accustomed to speaking to katsuki. as he got older, he actually talked to him more than you.

teaches your son how to be a man :,) katsuki knew he was bitchy in his younger years and he didn't want either of his kids to be like him. he taught them both manners and how to properly have a conversation.

little pitter patter of their feet ran into your guys' shared bedroom on christmas morning and began jumping your bed. katsuki groaned and rubbed his eyes aggressively. "it's christmas, mommy!" your little boy shouted. "wake up daddy!!" your daughter shouted in his ear. "alright alright you rugrats"

at your daughter's kindergarten graduation (idk if everyone had this but i did lmao), katsuki was tearing up and although he tried to hide it, he had to remain the strong one while comforting you while you bawled your eyes out.

p.s your daughter is the oldest

when she brought home her first boyfriend... ooo chile

i see a lot of people writing how katsuki would act up but tbh in his older years, i think he'd be a lot more mature. he'd greet the dude politely and treat him like he would any of her friends

btw lemme just say: your daughter is a mommy AND daddy's girl. she loves u both insanely

honestly while eating dinner with the boyfriend or something, katsuki would be very blunt and not pay too much mind to him LMAOO he'd be like "'tis is great, doll" as if you don't cook dinner every week and it's only when your daughter brings up how he wants to work at katsuki's angency, where he perks up

"oh shit, no kiddin'?" and you smack his arm lightly.

well this changes everything! he practically gave the kid his blessing. "welcome to the family son"

your son doesn't really care about them together, he just doesn't wanna see his big sis get hurt. lets say that your son is 15 and your daughter is 17. "so, bf/n. have you fucked her?"

you almost spit out your drink like a cartoon. your daughter is shook, katsuki's rage from UA is all coming back to him, and the boyf is scared for his life

you, katsuki, and your daughter have a little talk after dinner

"use condoms" kats stated. "i- WH- nono you can have sex next year." you corrected but ur daughter is like huh?? "wha why next year?" you scoff. "because you'll be a legal adult thats why." "no offense, momma, but that's really dumb. when did you and dad start having sex?" she folded her arms. katsuki shrugged. "like i said, use condoms."

you and your daughter gossip like crazy alr?? ur like the gilmore girls except you're married and didn't get pregnant at 16 (almost)

and this is nothing new to katsuki, he's heard u guys gossip trillions of times. but when he found out you guys talked abouy HIM TOO??

he busts into the room. your daughter squeals and runs behind you. "hi honeyy-" he shushes you, "you guys talkin' shit 'bout me?" "nope" you guys say in unison. "there's this other guy, uh.."

[astrophileblogs07]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS PT.20

⚫ Opposite to the stereotype of Leo being a narcissist, its the Aquarians who are more narcissist than ANY other zodiac. Esp its the Dhanishta naks out of the Aqua naks who are so.

⚫ I have seen 3 Aquarian moons (of Dhanishta nak) who had a poverty stricken first half of life (childhood, teenage years) but then they become well off like rlly very well off in their second half (esp after marriage). They marry rich 🤑 too. What i am saying here is the dramatic transformation of their financial life.

⚫ Pisces men are physically abusive. That's it. Esp the March Pisces. They literally are a bully. (Dont be fooled by the beautiful doe eyes lol)

⚫ "WOW What voluminous and luscious hair he's got!" -my ♌ rising and moon mom commenting on a side character with insignificant role in a movie 🤣. I wasn't noticing that at all...but she seemed to be stuck on that feature 😂.

⚫ Martian influence on a chart can actually have a liking to dangerous weapons and ammunitions. (Like idk I weirdly love them 😂😂)

⚫ Females with Ketu ruled naks are the first group of people whom male perceive as "threat". (Second is mars btw). Like if the other person is a typical male (egoistic, chauvinist) they will literally hate you to the core coz they know you equal them in all ways (except you know what LMAO 🤣). So they'll try to pin you down or belittle you etc. (sad, but since I have experienced I wanted it to share w you guys)

⚫ Also I love the way Ketu Nak women get along becoz mostly they have so much in common. And by that I mean how the society (male dom) treats them. I am not saying they're an "outcast" but the reaction they face just coz the male species get intimidated by us which has an cascading effect on our mental peace is beyond tolerance.

⚫Ketu naks are sexyyyyyy 🖤👁️🫦👁️❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

(I always imagine a smokin hot biker girl 👩🏻‍🎤with leather jacket and smoky eyeshadow whenever I hear "Ashwini, Magha and Mula")

⚫ I have seen a Chart which was totally "Mars" chart and I'll tell you, that person has Aries asc, Moon, Mars and (Mercury ig is in Scorpio?idr) along with Scorpio sun. And that person is like personified version of the planet itself. So cunning and so shrewd, potentially be a mastermind. Statergic. Secretive af. (Might be their middle name to exaggerate). Close to their mom. Loves friends (friends over anything). Also they have a "reddish" tint to their skin (no health probs, but yeah that planet does that). Knows how to tackle any embarrassing moment in public and deal with it. (I am jealous of him coz i wanted to be like him in every way 😂)

⚫Lilith and Pluto aspects in natal chart can actually survive 8H synastry. Almost same energy and themes. 💀

⚫Why are Maghas the "scapegoat" of the family? Like they be framed in a situation with which they have no relation with. Its annoying to see. Its like you're locked in your room chilling and as soon as you step out, everyone in the family is blaming you for something or the other. Now you're the "bad guy". (Yo wtf 🤡). Added to the generosity of Leos, people target you often. 😕

⚫Libra men CANNOT stand loneliness and being ostracized at all in any way. I have seen this in every Libra I came across. For eg: if you're the "black sheep" they won't talk to you and will go with what the crowd says. And if people have outcasted them just becoz they're with you/involved with you, they'll drop you like hot potato. People say and stereotype Capricorns for being the one who cares about reputation and all, but her 'Venus-ruled-Saturn-exalted' sister also is same. 💀

(no wonder they're besties lol)

P.S: I read a post here which said "Eye contact with 8H synastry hits different" ( i am not copying, i don't remember the username) and boy is that true 💀💀💀. Like I was -->😯😳🫣. Coz I have experienced that 🤣🤣. It does, than any other eye contact I have seen. Lmao 🤣🤣.{Edit: its @zeldasnotes 🖤😁}

Hope you liked it 😁😊. Until next time! 👋🏻

Love you y'all ❤️❤️❤️

[socgf]

the outsiders bts tea from rob lowe's book: part 1 (casting)

okay i am reading rob lowe's autobiography and taking notes on anything the outsiders related! this first part is some personal background as well as the casting for the outsiders.

i know some of this is already common knowledge about their audition process but i thought rob had some interesting insights/ways of describing it so thought i would share. 😁 also i am recording every word he says about matt dillon because that's my man

ch 1-8: early life and acting idrc

at 15 rob gets a role in a tv sitcom, "a new kind of family” - this is when he first starts being seen as a teen idol, he's only 15 and getting fan mail from men in jail asking to see him shirtless :( and girls chase him around and basically jump him, they steal his shoelaces (?) he writes a lot about how he hates this ear piercing scream of teenage girls

he moves to santa monica and becomes friends with the LA actors crowd, mostly through his high school - he’s friends with the sheens and penns, robert downey jr, emilio estevez

charlie sheen is a freak and sometimes wears a bulletproof vest to school and is a huge conspiracy theorist but we knew he was a weirdo

but the tv show flops and he has trouble landing acting gigs for a while, he feels like a has been at 17, thinks of doing something else with his life, is ready to go into usc

in december 1982, he’s told he can audition for the outsiders - it’s basically his last chance

ch 9: the audition process part 1

LA auditions: tom cruise, emilio estevez, tommy howell

every male actor in hollywood between ages of 15 and 30 were being asked to audition

coppola didnt even know the outsiders existed until one middle school liked the book so much that they petitioned it to be made into a movie and he was like okay

rob says s.e. wrote the outsiders set in the 50s? maybe a writing mistake but i think that’s so funny if he actually thought it was in the 50s this whole time

rob sees emilio at the soundstage for the audition among 25 other actors, the audition is nothing like he's seen before, emilio is wearing a ‘ridiculous looking pompadour’ and rob asks him wtf is going on, emilio is like “hey what can i say it’s francis” - his dad genuinely almost died of a heart attack working for coppola on apocalypse now

side note the filming process of apocalypse now is absolutely INSANE - sickness everywhere, a tapeworm coming out of martin’s driver’s mouth at one point, playboy bunnies were just written into the film etc

everyone is leaving the auditions miserable except for this one guy who comes out all happy, telling rob and emilio that francis sent all the actors away except for him - rob describes him as friendly and funny but having a robotic, bloodless, focused intensity (tom cruise btw)

francis keeps switching everyone’s parts and having them read each others parts in front of the other actors

tom reads for sodapop randy darry and dally!

rob reads for sodapop and randy

emilio reads for sodapop and darry

the auditions have this insane setup of a table with a small light and 4 chairs in the middle of a dark room, everyone who’s not in the scene is circling around watching- he describes it like a boxing match

he says tom looks like he wants to bash his brains in and steal his role from him

1st lineup: dennis quaid as darryl, scot bayo as sodapop, tommy howell as ponyboy

tommy is so lowkey he doesn’t seem like he’s trying, but also seems very real and authentic, he looks like a baby

tommy is stonefaced and cool the entire time he’s watching others, they can’t believe he’s only 15

mickey rourke comes in and rob says he looks dirty and homeless lol francis worships him

2nd lineup: rob and tommy play their respective roles with john laughlin as darry

robs entire career lowkey rests on the soda crying monologue, he’s only able to cry because he sees tommy’s eyes water for him (aw)

francis gets mad at some of the actors for pronouncing soc as sock LOLLLL

the role of sodapop is most coveted after ponyboy, it’s supposed to be huge, romantic, with the big breakdown scene at the end - he will bring this back later i assume with how he was upset about it being cut

NYC auditions: matt dillon, ralph macchio

they fly to new york for the next round of auditions

on the flight together rob tommy emilio and tom are ‘working a cute stewardess for alcohol’ lol and become friends - this is like the LA squad

the new york actors make up the other group which is kinda fighting for roles against this LA group, they’re tough, intense, serious

the actors stay at the plaza hotel and they’re told they need to share rooms

as soon as tom hears this he calls his agent and rob literally does an impression of him “uh paul? they’re making us share 😠” he is certain this is not right and wants this fixed asap, he’s already a diva

the boys go out to times square and get super drunk

next morning is what rob calls the east coast vs. west coast acting brawl (screentest time)

rob’s impressions of the other actors below:

matt dillon

matt is already a huge teen idol, he’s pretty intimidated by him

he’s reading the part of dallas - “and by reading i mean reading, he’s holding the entire script with his eyes locked on the text” - idk what he means by this i thought this is what they’re supposed to do.. whatever

after a while he puts it down and is paraphrasing completely, adlibbing, making up dialogue while the other actors try to keep up with him

he can’t tell if francis told him to freestyle it or not - if so, he’s got the part locked in and if he didn’t, then matt dillon has “dangling, clanking, scary big elephant balls”

ralph macchio

he recognizes ralph because they were competing for a part in ‘eight is enough’

describes him as a tiny kid, bro is 21

he says it’s clear he’s the front runner for johnny

ralph says him and matt have only been reading for their respective parts and have been doing so for days (together btw) (it’s clear the dally-johnny dynamic is very important to francis)

this is very interesting to me!!! how everyone else was so in between parts and matt and ralph were just. locked in from the start. and paired.

tom comes in and is asked to do sodapop, he is nailing the breakdown and rob’s like ‘i’m done that’s it’ - he is a force to be reckoned with

then tom stops in the middle of the scene!! and says “this just isn’t working for me i’m sorry”, francis lets him try again but it doesn’t hit so that’s how he loses the role basically

rob does the scene and crushes it

that’s all for chapter 9, no one is casted yet. the only greaser not mentioned at auditions at this point is patrick, i assume he will get to that + diane lane + others in the next part though, and it’ll also cover the dynamic between the cast once they already get the roles

pt 2 coming soon hopefully some more juicy stuff 😋

[genericpuff]

This is stupid, but you know those new LO hoodies the Webtoon shop has? I know the font they're using. It's Eckmannpsych which is an Adobe font.

That's not the stupid part though. The dumb part is the capital H and G in the Eckmannpsych font do not match what is on the hoodies, which would obviously be on the hoodies that have Hera or Goddess on them. So, Rachel looks to have taken the time to hand draw her own H and G to match the font style for those hoodies but did not take any time to make new, better art for the merch, but instead reused ugly panels from the comic. Talk about a strange look into her priorities. She doesn't like how the G and H look on a font? She will remake those to fit what she wants. Rachel when the assignment gives her the chance to make specialized, better designs for those same merch? She can't be bothered to even try. WTF!

for the love of god-

I'm assuming and hoping they had the commercial rights to that font LMAOO But it did kind of make me go 🤨 because while I didn't know the font EXACTLY off the top of my head it still felt... weirdly out of place for something like LO? Why are these hoodies being stylized like they're from Austin Powers LOL

On another note tho, the LO merch is just like... disappointing in how bad it is for what's supposed to be WT's #1 series, which is, btw, a series with so much unique stylization that it shouldn't even be this hard to make merch for it! it just feels very "first attempt at redbubble merch", but unlike genuine first attempts at making merch (which is obviously a learning curve that I wouldn't judge anyone for being new to) this is a company that's sunk shitloads of money into LO so I don't know why they can't get better merch made?? so much of it is just the default drawings taken and slapped onto a tote bag or t-shirt, which like, yeah cool fine you're using art that's recognizable and considering the art is already made, it stands to reason that they should use it for more than just the comic. It's just disappointing to see how lazy it often is and how little effort is put into translating it onto a t-shirt/tote bag/etc. like we can't even have ONE exclusive t-shirt with a unique design that isn't just poorly copy pasted from the comic?

Case in point, those t-shirts that Rachel was advertising a while ago that were actually straight up falsely advertised. I can't find the post about it on my Tumblr (I'm pretty sure I talked about it here) so here's the IG story rundown I did on it ages ago:

Again I'd really like to have benefit of the doubt here that Rachel isn't the one making these designs, usually that's not how the merchandising process goes in these types of deals, so I'm not gonna point the finger at her. But it's just so odd to me that it happened in the first place. And this goes for a lot of LO's merch, so much of it feels cheaply made and rushed off a conveyor belt for the point of making money without much expense. Which yeah, that's a business model for sure, the goal is to profit, but like this?

You can't even argue that it's like people criticizing LO the comic because like, as much as I'll justify what I spend my time doing here in my free time, it's true that at the end of the day I don't have to pay for LO, so really the only thing I'm doing is inflicting psychic damage to myself, it's not like my actual money is on the line LMAO That's why I stopped paying for LO ages ago and only do it when I have a specific episode I need to review (such as the midseason hiatus review series I did). At the very least, if I really want to keep reading LO but don't want to pay for it, I can just avoid FastPassing it and read it for free so I can save the coins for other series I'd rather read. The Webtoons' FP system is very fair that way.

But this is merch explicitly made to generate revenue. It is a product, front to back. You can vote with your money by not buying the thing you don't like, absolutely, but the fact that it's this poorly to begin with is just so indicative of Webtoons' business practices and so shitty for the people who genuinely enjoy this comic and are being advertised and sold shoddy merchandise that doesn't even come looking the same way it's advertised. It's really not a good look for Webtoons, Rachel, or LO that this is what they're selling to people.

Especially for what they're charging, good lord-

Like, okay, they're hoodies and they're gonna be expensive to print and ship so the higher overhead cost makes sense, but jesus christ, with the kind of merch Webtoons has already given the stamp of approval on, would it even show up in decent condition? How bright are those colors gonna be? Are they gonna strip off as soon as I throw it in the wash? I'm half-tempted to buy a hoodie for myself just to do a review on it but I can't justify dropping $75 CAD on a hoodie that only has art on the back. Maybe it's just me living in the hellish lands of Canada where we play with toy money that's the problem, but it's just not a gamble I wanna take LOL If I bought one it would probably be the Hecate or Hermes ones because they're the only ones that are at least somewhat legible and have decent character art that isn't a character looking like they need to poop LMAO

(these are literally the two worst drawings they could have chosen of these two i stg lol the only thing that would have made this worse/funnier is if it was Handsome Hades and Persephone Kidnapping a Baby LMAO)

It has me worried about what the LO figures are gonna look like when they release. Are they gonna have some creative liberty with making them chibi-fied (like a Nendoroid?) or are they gonna try and replicate the art style exactly and wind up making literal blow-up sex doll Persephone? 😭

NGL, if the figures are done well enough and don't cost an arm and a leg, I might consider buying one just for the shelf collection, but again, it depends. If Webtoons released a tarot deck with really good panels from LO (like the Tower 4 scene or Persephone sitting on the rooftop with her comb or Eros flying down into the Mortal Realm) I would buy the shit out of that. I would even just take the Major Arcana if 78 cards was too much to ask :'0 I'm not against Webtoons/Rachel trying to profit off LO merch at all, I just wish it was BETTER- (╥﹏╥)

[kimyoonmiauthor]

The whole Haitian Grill Hoaxes.

Warning: Talks about Haitian history of slavery briefly and of cooking animals.

Not my usual line of posts, but meh, I kinda want to so some solidarity, education and attempt at least to weave in some talk of anthropology and worldbuilding with it.

First off, Anthropologists are required to take as undergraduates Physical Anthropology. We have to be able to tell the difference between a carnivore, an herbivore and a omnivore. And also are taught things like how to tell the difference between human bones and animal bones. No lie, this was one of the most difficult classes I took and I spent for probably the first time in a long time studying my ass off. I usually don't study, but for this one I studied really hard. 'cause you have to memorize the names of bones and how they differ. (Cue me crying because I still remember frontal parietal and occipital and semi-have nightmares about this class. I still have mandible, but then semi panic about the names of all of the nose bones.)

This isn't what I thought I'd be using my degree for, but here we are.

Next, I 100% do not condone and 100% condemn everyone being AHs to Haitians who've had enough crap in their history, such as, but not limited to Columbus depopulating the Island of Taino (It's a word that starts with G), enslaving a bunch of Africans, and then people getting upset when they overthrew their slave owners. This is designed as a defense against the racist who accuse them of eating an animal rarely eaten in human history especially WITHOUT ANY FLAVOR. WTF. Only people who are from the Europe do that. Did you really get insulted by Tim Walz making fun of the white American Palate and then confirm he was correct? Yes, you did.

I'm pulling out my love of food anthro for this too. lol Did I almost write a book about it? Yes, yes I did. Also, I have graphic design knowledge to be able to tell things.

***

This is the image. Those are chickens, whole, not free of their internal organs.

Might be 3-4 chickens, but this is my best guess:

That's the anatomy break down.

Basically, the tail is not a rabbit tail. The tail is also not a cat tail. It matches a bird tail.

The legs are not rabbit legs—they are too long and there is a claw. There is a wing in the picture. Cats don't have the anatomy. They have longer tails and it wouldn't look that way.

For reference, the Sphinx Cat. (which is really expensive, BTW. They've been catnapped before.)

The red in the picture is glare from a window because the person is standing and as the video goes, if you focus on the glare you can see it is a white person taking the video—or at least very light skinned wearing a red t-shirt and dark pants. Might even be a Trump T-shirt, but I couldn't confirm it on repeated viewings. This means the window is pretty big. It's not a car. The way the person shifts within the video means they are likely in their own house. There is a level of comfort there. This was also likely taken with a phone because the resolution is terrible. The way the camera shifts as the person shifts their position, etc and the bad camerawork, suggests amateur with a phone. (Also didn't expect to use my graphic design knowledge for this)

Dude, just go outside your house to film.

The second reason this isn't from a car like some people suggest is there is a fence that goes along the back of the property where the beveling of the fence suggests it's to protect the current yard. This means the fence likely goes the entire perimeter of the yard which would mean it's not visible from the street. The majority of grills are set up to face the house, not the street, unless you're planning on selling it.

Sphinx is an all furless cat. This looks nothing like what is in the picture. Those are birds.

It was pointed out to me that it might be stewing chickens, i.e. after they've been retired from egg laying. The kind you make into something like Dak Komtang. This means the picture was 100% faked.

Now, why is it a badly faked image: Cultural Anthropology and food anthropology here.

In order to cook any animal in a BBQ setting, every culture I know of where you are physically using a grill: You would have to chop it up so it cooks evenly and if you don't do that, put it on a spit to cook it whole. It *is* possible to cook a whole chicken, however, one would have to have taken out the giblets, and then dressed and marinated it thoroughly so that the breasts are correctly tied, plus you would have to tie it up so that the wings are tied to the body: https://bluejeanchef.com/cooking-school/how-to-truss-a-chicken/

Truss it tight. This helps the chicken to cook evenly. Similarly with rabbit you'd have to empty the main cavity of the innards.

No one leaves the chicken feet on in that case. It's better to take off that part of the legs and do something else with them, like say Chinese Chicken feet for dim sum.

Nunzio pointed out that the chickens were likely stewing chickens, i.e. retired breeders.

based off of this picture. i.e. terrible for grilling on the barbecue because it's much tougher meat.

In addition, while there are cultures that do eat chicken heads, often to make the chicken cook more evenly, they are cut off of the body and grilled/cooked separately because the rate at which the head cooks is faster than the rest of the body. In the picture you can see the chicken combs.

The next point of clue that this is a faked image is that there is NO FUCKING FLAVOR ON THE CHICKEN.

White food travel shows, Haitians themselves when making their food, my own mouth is going to tell you, that is is packed to the gills with flavor. OMG, some of the food is so spicy, even this Asian feels like they were crying. C'mon now, that's a crime to say that Haiti people are going to cook anything on the grill with no flavor.

You know the only cuisine in the world that gets close to doing that? Europeans and people of that direct descent. And I've eaten my way through South America, Central America, North America, Texas BBQ, Louisiana, NE America, South West America, Italy, France, England, Germany, Poland, Russian, Hungarian, Iranian, Armenian, Tunisia, Nigeria, Ethiopian, Greek, Chinese (Northern and Southern, BTW), Japan, Korea, most of SE Asia, Philippines, and some of the South Pacific (Working on it). There is only one continent that does not flavor their meat before putting it on the grill—effing Europe. WTF.

The rest of the world is begging you to at least marinate your meat. !@#$ Even effing Texans are begging you to marinate your meat.

Anyway, no self respecting home chef or any type of cook would cook their meat this way.

Food experience

I've eaten and cooked whole rabbit, whole chicken, whole turkey, whole goose, venison (legally hunted and shot), beef, lamb, goat (not whole), and !@#$ there is no way someone is cooking it that way without any heat on the grill first. In order to grill anything, you need a lot of prep time to make it work, even for smoking. You need to heat up the grill.

Let me tell you as a kid when I first arrived to the US, my mom would serve up crap meals which consisted of mediocre rice, fish sticks, and carrot and celery sticks. God, I hated the cooking. And she kept saying how she would not ever put in more effort into our meals. Having some semblance of foundation about cooking, I watched cooking shows, read cook books, and managed to get the foundations of cooking from asking and doing.

This meant by the time I was a teenager I was making the majority of the meals for the house. In fact, my parents made me do the majority of the cooking some nights AND clean the dishes I cooked with sometimes because they were seriously assholes.

They also would have me heat the briquettes for the grill ALONE. --;; Unsupervised. Yeah, not recommended, and I would never ask kids to do it on their own. Don't do as my parents did.

On the list of things they had me cook was things like venison and goose. When I flunked out of college the first time due to lingering trauma, they also had me do all of the cooking for rent and made unreasonable demands on me.

Fuck. Go back to your fucking fish sticks.

The point is that I know the foundations of cooking meat very, very well. I got so good at it, I could sense the difference in smell to know when it was cooked versus not cooked.

I made up recipes too.

Anyway, there is NO way you would be cooking meat like that with the head still stuck on. For the cultures like Ireland that eats things like brains, the head is ALWAYS cooked separately from the body. The brain is squishy in there and can make the skull explode in some cases because it cooks at a different rate from the rest of the body. The same with the internal organs. Those are removed in every culture or taken out, rinsed and carefully placed back into the cavity of the animal to cook *with additional* things added (sometimes rocks, sometimes extra meats, etc.) Again, if you don't do that, the inside will explode. (And in some cases make things really bitter like gall bladder tastes nasty. You can see people eating the gall bladder on Youtube.)

This is why this is a faked picture.

In addition, the cultures that do eat things like cats are usually ravaged by imperialism, therefore, poverty. And I know how much imperializing nations like to make fun of other cultures they imperialized to the point of crippling their food supply and their inability to get new technology like refrigerators.

This is why I think it's best to not ridicule other culture's foods.

And don't believe hoaxes like this. Including the whole This is a dog without canine teeth video hoax. It's simply not worth it.

And I'd also beg you to fact check, fact check before you perpetuate rumors. But I suppose this is a lesson in racism and xenophobia too.

[joeydoeeyes]

Wait no, you met him at a train station while you were both drunk? Thats a dream right there lol Story time right neoww wtf!! When was this

oh my god right i'm finally telling this tale. everyone take several seats. @ceriseheaven has already heard this trainwreck tale, and now you all can too.

let me set the scene. july 2023, my 18th birthday. my cousin has been bugging me for weeks telling me i need to go on a night out for my 18th, my bsf agrees. so i go with my cousin and bsf to central london (i'm a london girl 😋), i'm dressed in barely anything because it's so hot AND a night out. literally full cleavage, dress barely covering my asscheeks. and as it's my b-day the bartender gave me so many free drinks, so by the time we left at like 11pm to get the train home, i'm practically being supported by them as i walk

we all get down to the station, i look up at the platform, and who else is there except for FUCKING JOE. (btw, i know i was drunk but my bsf and cousin both say it was 100% him, i have two witnesses) literally two other ppl on the platform, and one of them is him. so somehow, in my drunken confidence i stagger right over to him and immediately start talking his ear off about how much i love his work, how much i loved him in stranger things, etc, making a tit of myself (my cousin swears i told him how hot i thought he is but i pray to god he's lying to me)

i do this for about five solid minutes, also joe wasn't drunk i worded that wrong, it was ME who was so sloshed i didn't care what i said. i remember him kind of chuckling at what i was saying (because he probably thought i was a lunatic), he didn't hug me but he had his hand on my shoulder which was nice.

eventually my train came and my bsf and cousin peeled me away from joe onto the train and i waved bye to him, and he waved back. and now i can never meet him at a convention ever in case he recognises me as the nutcase who was pissed in covent garden train station 😭😭😭

and that's my incredibly embarrassing, why my cousin is never allowed to get me drunk again story of meeting joe 😭 i am so embarrassed about this it's not even funny

[proshippers-against-censorship]

I have these 2 OCs that are brocon (while it is portrayed as bad in the story, I still draw cute non-canon art of them sometimes cuz I love them lol), and my anti friends unsurprisingly have an issue with this, but I always tore down their arguments and explain why it isn't an issue. So, with these 2, one friend in particular (who we'll call K) decided that since she can't use the classic "fiction is reality!! you support incest!!" argument, she decided to instead complain that the characters were Jewish and I was thus disrespecting the religion

I am...Jewish? Why would I disrespect my own religion in my OC's 😭 Also, I contradict religion a lot in my stories lol. One of the characters is a Christian cannibal (which, while I don't know a whole lot about Christianity, I'm sure that's a sin for them lmfao), along with all of my other OC's who are religious yet are also murderers, terrorists, etc, and she seemed to not have an issue with that.

So, I explain K's hypocrisy to her (and how I'm sure literally no other Jewish person would be offended, nor care), she insisted I was just being antisemitic. Keep in mind 3 things with this:

1.) She is not Jewish, she worships Islam, so idk why she's policing me on what I do with my own beliefs and acting like she is an expert on it (I had to explain to her what a Synagogue was, so clearly she doesn't know much)

2.) She was super antisemitic??? K literally banned me from speaking about Judaism in any form in her old server because "it made people uncomfortable" (nobody except her cared)... but then let a legitimate Neo-Nazi stay in the server and just told me to "ignore him" as he would legit send propaganda in the chat

3.) She would contradict religion in her stories, too??? She never once drew her canonically-Islam characters with properly-modest clothes or hijabs (even going as far as drawing some of her characters in literal bikinis lmfao???), and when I would ask about this, she would say "It is fiction, so I have creative freedom, and I change the rules"... which like, yeah this is true, but why is it okay for you to do it and not me

So, as usual, antis stretching so far to find any reason to call you a freak, and once again being hypocritical. Good thing she is an ex-friend now.

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

TL;DR of the whole situation:

"It is fiction, so I have creative freedom with worldbuilding, so therefore my characters don't need to necessarily abide by the rules of the religion I canonically made them worship. WTF???? YOU CAN'T DRAW THE JEW BROTHERS KISSING NOOOO THAT'S BAD BECAUSE YOU'RE DISRESPECTING OTHER JEWS!!! Oh btw there is a self-proclaimed Nazi in my server, no I will not ban him for harassing you, but I will ban you for mentioning Hanukkah, I'm not antisemitic though!!" -K, my anti ex-friend, for some reason

She sounds like a hypocritical bitch, it's a good thing you distanced yourself from her 😬😬😬

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

status of babbit's life yeehaw

tl,dr: busy moving and a couple of other big life things that just complicate things, but well on the way to being back to normal! new fic chapters and better quality art coming soon.

tl,wr (too long, will read):

Helloooo what's up its me, Babbit. or Rabbit. or Bones. or Idiot Moron Menace Child, idk im not picky lol

i know a lot of you guys have been wondering wtf is up with my upload schedule lately and the extreme lack of even basic content and also i am extremely aware that i have not updated my fics in a few millennia and for that i am very, very sorry. this post is to answer a few questions you might have, if anyone was curious about the 'reason' instead of just the 'when.'

my family and i have had a hell of a year, y'all. like, jesus christ, i really hope things level out and calm down for a while once we're moved in to our new apartment bc god damn we are so tired. the list goes: 1. we got kicked out of the house we were renting-to-own bc we wouldn't be able to afford the new rate, so they gave us two months to find a new place to live (not long enough, it turns out) and then foreclosed to get us out. 75% of our belongings were still in the house when we had to leave. that includes all of our christmas ornaments- including the ones kept for decades, and the ones made by me and my siblings, and the fancy ones made from blown glass. 2. the first night out of the house, one of our dogs, freaked out by the strangeness of the situation, panicked and slipped her harness and ran off. that was over a year ago. we haven't seen her since. 3. my cat got very ill and became unable to eat. she passed away almost exactly a year ago. she had been 14-15, and had been my baby since i was maybe 8. 4. one of the tires on my dads car blew out. during the night, while it was parked on the curb so he could put the spare on in the morning, one of the in-tact tires was fucking stolen LMAO 5. we applied to rent at so many places and got rejected so, so many times. it costs money to apply, btw. we're talking like $200+. no, u don't get that money back. 6. i lost my job bc knowing i would have to work 8 hours at a job that stresses me out to the point of exhaustion (at a place where no one takes me seriously and would actively laugh at me when i try to express my need to step away for a minute) sometimes paralyzed me and made me sick to my stomach and made me feel unable to leave the house, and i called out one too many times. a day after my birthday, too! 7. just recently, like within the last week, my dad's car got fuckin totalled!!!!!

THE GOOD NEWS IS WE OFFICIALLY, FINALLY, AFTER A SOLID YEAR, HAVE AN APARTMENT!!!!! I'LL HAVE MY OWN ROOM AGAIN!!! THERE'S AN ENTIRE KITCHEN!!!!!!!

the 'oh god' news is we still have to move in, and replace a lot of the stuff that we just couldn't take with us when we moved out (mostly stuff like bookshelves, dining table, dressers, etc) AND get the few things we could cram into a storage center out and moved into the new place, which isn't a lot but at the same time is more than we can realistically handle on our own. and then, we have to get my mums cats (a pair of kitty sisters that we had to temporarily house with my aunt, who got tired of looking after them and let them outside to be outdoor cats a few months ago. yes, this was an extremely shitty thing to do, and we've been working hard to get them back safely) AND my gecko (who my cousin has been looking after, even tho feeding him worms freaks him out LMAO yes i plan on compensating him) moved in, as well... basically oh my god there is so much to worry about but at the same time it's nice to have to worry about it bc it means we're making progress sdkfhsjdkfhdsjfh

basically i am just so tired but so busy and also thinkin abt so much im so sorry for lack of stuff but i am so looking forward to being able to bounce back, pls stick with me, it'll be sorted out soon i think and then i'll hit y'all with some good stuff i promise!!!!!!!

anyway thank u guys i love u and appreciate u all for sticking around

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for talking irl to somebody who has me blocked online?

Backstory: I (18M) was friends with someone I’ll call Emery (18 NB, they/he). I met them in freshman year of high school and we were pretty good friends. We stopped talking because I moved schools, but still followed each other on Instagram and reconnected through that near the end of our senior year.

Since I still live in the same town, we ended up hanging out in real life a few times, going to the movies, sleeping over once or twice, just hanging out at the grocery store and shit, etc. I was really excited for this because I missed him a lot when I moved schools.

From what I could tell, he enjoyed our rekindled friendship just as much as I did. He even suggested that I got a job at his workplace and helped me through the process. (I didn’t get the job though unfortunately 🥲)

However, one day I realized that their Instagram account was… gone? This was the only place we contacted each other so I was worried and asked a mutual friend what happened. The mutual told me that his account got deleted (They’re a chronic comment arguer so it made sense lol) but that he had a new account! So I clicked the name the mutual sent me but… it said the account didn’t exist. I asked if they mistyped the username and they assured me they hadn’t. I ended up looking up the account on my brother’s phone and sure enough it was there. The fact that only I couldn’t see it confirmed what I worried about in the first place: They had blocked me.

I reread our DMs and looked at my recent posts on Instagram wondering if maybe I said something wrong, but couldn’t find anything in particular, so I have no idea what caused them to block me. However, I’m still going to respect it obviously and have tried my best not to worry about it and just accept the L and move on. I know how annoying it to make a mutual friend ask about that so I didn’t ask them to other than just saying “did they say anything about why they blocked me?”. Maybe I made a mistake or maybe they suddenly decided I have bad vibes; I’ll likely never know what it was so there’s not much reason for me to continue thinking about it.

Anyway, flash forward to now, there’s an event that started up recently that has meetings every week on Monday. I went to it last year and am planning to go every week this year as well. However, when I went on the opening day, there was Emery. I panicked, because wtf are you supposed to do when you interact with someone who has you blocked online!? I just said hi and tried to ignore them for the night, and they did more or less the same.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do from here though. I don’t want to go to them and be like “sooo why did you block me btw?” and I also don’t want to ignore that and talk to them like it never happened, but I also know I can’t just ignore them when I see them every week… The meetings only have about 5-10 people in them. We have to speak sometime.

So WIBTA if I tried to talk normally to somebody who has me blocked online??

What are these acronyms?

[thee-radio-host-is-a-kookaburra]

idk nothing about saw

PLEASE EXPLAIN THE LORE I WANT TO UNDERSTAND /nf

*cracks knuckles* buckle up

There is a guy named John Kramer who’s wife, Jill Tuck (amazing character btw. didn’t deserve to die), has a miscarriage. He is then like “the guy who caused my ex wife’s miscarriage doesn’t appreciate life” so he traps and kills him. Then he does this again a few more times until someone survives and he’s like “see? trapping people is good actually. be my apprentice.” and the survivor, Amanda Young, is like “fuck yeah. thanks for making me cut open a guy. so happy to be alive now.”

Then there’s the bathroom trap in the original Saw and a character named Adam Stanheight is unfairly left to die even though he won his test, solely so the other guy, Lawrence Gordon (who technically LOST the test) could become John’s apprentice bc he’s a doctor. So Lawrence escapes and John is like “be my apprentice” and Lawrence is like “fuck yeah. thanks for kidnapping my wife and kids and making me saw my foot off. so happy to be alive now.”

So there’s also this guy named Hoffman (meanie stupid head) who actually didn’t even have to do anything. Some dude killed his sister so he killed the dude back and blamed it on the Jigsaw killer and John was like “wtf I didn’t do this.” So John stabs Hoffman in a public elevator with a needle and is like “your blade fucking sucks and also killing is bad. i would know bc i’m a killer.” Then he pretends to shoot him but it was actually just a little prank and John is like “be my apprentice” and Hoffman is like “i’m literally a homicide detective. but sure ok 👍”

So then it turns out Amanda Young was actually there with the dude that caused Jill’s miscarriage and Hoffman is like “kill this random woman or i’ll tell John” and Amanda is like “ok :(” and then dies bc said woman’s husband was there too. Oh and John also dies.

So then Hoffman like kills a few more ppl and blames it on this dead guy named Strahm. And then Jill finds out Hoffman technically got Amanda and John killed and is like “wow what the fuck. no wonder John hated you lol” bc it turns out John hated him lol. So Jill puts the reverse beartrap on him and stands outside the door for some reason but then Hoffman escapes and gets fucking Joker scars.

Then Hoffman catches Jill and says some mean things and then kills her. But then SURPRISE Lawrence is back‼️ You haven’t seen him since the first movie bc Cary Elwes wasn’t being paid enough and filed a lawsuit but it’s ok bc he’s back now. Lawrence serves cunt and kills Hoffman in the same bathroom Adam died in right next to Adam’s body.

But ofc, this is just a short summary. This isn’t even going into like. the Fatal Five, the Matthews, Rigg’s attempted recruitment, Bobby Dagen, Scott Tibbs Documentary, etc etc etc

oh also Jigsaw (2017) and Spiral (2021) happen too

[lablim64]

New character alert!

(Base on my sister's side OC lol)

Name: rex (character's original name too)

Age: coma-locked lol (a bit older than monster)

Gender: male

Story:

Rex is monster's older birth brother who's uhh how can explain almost has the same mental as jett from @weirdsillycreature if I have to explain him in short words, the mostly different is his parents are alive and he's not so works in a laboratory or locked in a mental hospital with a middle age looking guy who lost his wife that thinking they can heal him but failed miserably lol, rex's where never believed by anyone that he can heal, no one believes that he can be a mental man ever so they just left him in a STABLE mental hospital, he were allowed to go outside the hospital and contact with people because he were mostly a creep for people and only a danger to people he doesn't like, monster had so much faith in him because he believes that he can be healed if she trys and it actually almost worked, but sadly due to monster's family abandoned her and her brother on a thanksgiving morning, leaving them home all alone, they force monster to go to another family and leave her brother at the hospital that were close to their home like 4 blocks away, monster's new home were too far from her old neighborhood but at least she met lim at her new home and protect him in all cause, due to all the chaos and moving happening, rex didn't really handled not seeing her and home missing out of nowhere, ever since then, there's no clue where he is, the doctor's thoughts are him trying to find his sister and as everyone believe he'll die insane, they just let him run away and not even mind looking for him

Ps. That's kinda explains why monster have faith in jett and fall for him more than usual, she just want to keep him safe and in health like how she kept her brother safe and healthy, that's also why she believes that every unstable person can be stabled if they find the right person/friend/etc

I want these mfs to meet I wonder how they be like

They are literally has the same mental in different stories lol

(I also realized most of my ocs are a bit taller than jett wtf XD)

Btw rex's hair is painted, if you wonder why monster's human self didn't look like him(I might draw her too-)

@honeybuzzdraws say something please-

I love comments and I overthink when people just likes the post (it's a problem-)

Random

ʕ´•ᴥ•`ʔ ᶠᵘⁿ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ

The oc of rex and the original oc rec(that my sister owns) actually do are like that, the difference is her version is a murderer while this one is a different version of jett XD