#mentally? I’m still in 2013-2016

[viccharine]

every couple of months something from like 2011-2016 starts trending again and everyone is like “ARE WE REGRESSING????” or “WHAT YEAR IS IT????”

idk guys it happens so often that maybe we should consider that no one on this site actually moved on

[enalovesharry]

Always a Fineline

warnings - little angstyyy blurb!

summary - basically just you and harry divorcing. lol.

—————————————————————————

There sat the divorce papers between you and your husband, Harry.

Nothing had worked, you’d both been doing couples counselling and tried to build the love back up with endless dates and nights with just the two of you.

Still nothing.

You two weren’t toxic to each other, no, the spark between you both just wasn’t there anymore. It’s like the love between you and Harry had died down, all that was left was an empty hole in both of your hearts.

You met Harry while he was alone at a bar in 2013, from there you both built a really good relationship that soon turned romantic with Harry finally getting down onto one knee in 2016. Now, 2 years later you were both sat at the table Anne gave you and Harry after you’d both moved into the new house.

Harry stared down at the piece of paper, a sad gloomy dew clouding his eyes, the green appearing almost a dark grey colour.

Signing this paper was the last thing you’d have to do before parting ways for good.

“Who gets the house..?” Harry asks, holding the tip of the pen just above the signature box on the form, a frown prominent on his lips, eyes never leaving the paper.

“H, we already talked about this. I’m okay with staying with my parents till I get my new apartment.” You lean back in your chair slightly, eyes still on the curly headed boy you’d thought you’d always call home.

Harry nods sadly, bringing the pen down onto the paper, signing his name slowly before dropping it onto the page, sliding it across to the middle of the table. Yet, he still doesn’t look at you, his eyes still find his way to either the table, the wall behind you or the piece of paper.

“So.. that’s it?” He almost whispers, shrugging one shoulder, finally his eyes meet yours, both your hearts almost break, seeing the visible pain and tiredness on both of your faces, dark circles under your eyes from the lack of sleep due to the build up of this moment.

“You’ll be okay, Harry. I’m still gonna be here for you.” You smile sadly, trying to lighten the mood, even though there’s nothing light about this.

He shakes his head. “It won’t be the same as it was, Y/N. You know that.” He frowns, his head bowing down once again to avoid eye contact.

You stand up, walking around to his side of the table, hands softly coming in contact with his jaw, picking his face up so he’s looking up at you, like he’d always do when you were sad. “I know it won’t be the same, H. But we have to do this, do it for the sake of our mental health. All we’re doing is going around in circles, It’s an endless cycle of this.. of us.” You choke on a sob at the end, tears finally spilling out of your eyes.

Harry had tried so hard to be strong and not breakdown in front of you, but seeing you cry did it for him. Endless tears are shared between the two of you in what seems to be your last moments close to each other. “I still love you though Y/N.”

“Do you really love me or do you just love the thought of me being around you. Think about it Harry, our love is gone.” You lean down, pressing your forehead against his as you both cry, thumbs caressing the pads of his cheeks.

“I really wanted forever.” He whispers.

“Forever in another lifetime, i promise. We’ll be alright.”

————————————

2021, Las Vegas.

The screams of fans roar through the MGM Grand Garden Arena, it was his first show of Love On Tour where he’d debut his latest Fineline album.

Taking the place onto the centre of the stage, a crew member passes him his guitar as the stage rises up slightly, “This is a special one to me, i know a lot of you have been dying to hear it. I hope you love this song as much as I do.” He smiles, clapping and awes can be heard all around the stage.

The first strum of the guitar to the beat of Fineline is played, Harry takes a deep breath, a sudden emotion coming over him in a flashback of how this song was made. Who inspired this special song to him.

“Put a price on emotion, I’m looking for something to buy.”

“You’ve got my devotion, but man I can hate you sometimes.”

Singing from the crowd can be heard, harmonising Harry in a way no other concert could compare.

“We’ll be a fineline.”

“We’ll be a fineline.”

“We’ll be a fineline.”

Somewhere through the song Harry had closed his eyes, he finally opened them, looking out to the crowd, something in him tells him to take a quick glance up to the VIP box, so he does.

It takes time for him to recognise the person peering over the edge, before it clicks. Y/N.

The person that inspired him to make this album was watching Harry like a hunter show this special album of his to the world.

A small smile cracks at his lips before returning his eyes back to the crowd.

Maybe they will be a fineline.

————————————————————

TBH THIS WAS REALLY BAD AND SHORT CONSIDERING BUT IT IS MY FIRST EVERY WRITING PIECE SO DONT FEEL BAD IF YOU CRINGE BAHAHA!! PLEASE GIVE ME FEEDBACK LOVE YA! I AM ALSO NEW TO WRITING SO THERES PROBS ALOT OF GRAMMAR ISSUES ALSO COS I RUSHED THIS WHILE LISTENING TO MONTELL FISH 😭

i dont exactly like this so feel free to skip like the whole thing!! this is my first time writing a piece like this even though i have many drafts put away, but I wanna say a big thank you to my kind friend @harringtons-honey for quite literally helping me for tips with my writing, i want to truly give you the world for that!!

[carryonafi]

where did the party go. (2)

a/n: good lord carryonafi nation FINALLY!! part 2 of where did the party go is here and now i’m working on new projects! the end of the school year is kicking my ass at the moment, but there’s cool things planned and requests will be out soon :) enjoy! and tell me if you’d like a part 3 of this universe where we do some sweet stories from the past. 🤍

content warnings: sexual innuendos, heavy drinking, smoking, mentions of declining mental health

words: 2.0k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

background: Your relationship with Ashton has been public ever since the beginning, starting in 2013 and continuing to flow and experience the life of 5 Seconds of Summer all the way until the band went on a break at the end of 2016. During those years, you took on the struggles that Ashton and the rest of the band faced which left them all having you as a permanent resident in their life. However, your relationship becomes rocky when Ashton refuses to communicate until the very moment he can’t take it anymore. His impulsive decision leads to you moving out, yet still being in his life because of the others and their friendship with you.

—

After parties were a staple, this was where your relationship with Ashton began, found itself strained, healed… it was an environment that was home to a lot of major events in your still young lives. It had been about 5 years since the first event you had ever gone to, an album release party hosted by a different band which got you into the public position you wore proudly. Ashton never once doubted your abilities to handle the spotlight, you didn’t mind the cameras flashing or the way members of the crowds would desperately call out your name or his. It just came naturally.

It felt like home to be wanted, to be needed by some people. The way those boys relied on you to give them their reality away from their occupations made you feel important, but Ashton clicked with you. His need was different from the others, but you needed him in the same way.

Things started to get rough when the band went on break, but even before… Ashton was slipping and it felt like communication hadn’t been valued enough. One encounter months after your breakup stayed engraved in your mind, the most vulnerable you had ever seen that man. His tears meant everything, even if he was wasted and didn’t realize half of what he was thinking fell from his lips— those tears were real. The way his shaking hands slipped through your fingertips at a desperate attempt to keep you close to him, his bloodshot eyes and wild hair… it shook you just thinking about it.

The nomination for your single sort of fell through, but in this moment nothing else mattered. Finding the drummer was your top priority and not a single disruption would ruin this for you.

The music gently shook the atmosphere, the venue filled with laughter and conversation, some dramatic, bitchy, grateful, maybe elated. These had to have been the most confusing places with everyone’s mixed emotions and different reactions to the winners and performances. Bodies were spread out, yet a tiny bit cramped due to the limited space they had for celebration. After parties were nice for this reason too, it wasn’t like your usual event thrown together and way overpacked with drunk individuals and enough alcohol to poison an entire tolerant frat house.

Finally, you pushed your way up towards the bar and was met with a familiar, inhumanely tall figure. You knew who this was immediately.

“Hey, Luke?” You called, gently tapping on the man’s shoulder.

Luke turned around, a smile lingering on his face until he made eye contact with you. “Shit, hey Y/N!” He beamed, hooking his arm around your shoulders to give you a bit of an awkward hug. You laughed anxiously, blinking to adjust to the dim lights and meet Luke’s gaze. “Good to see you!”

“Good to see you too…” You hesitated. “Do you know where Ashton is?” It seemed his face mirrored yours, curious and full of a need for answers.

“Um… yeah, I think he stepped out into the hallway? Not sure which one though, pretty sure it was over in that direction somewhere.” Luke hummed, making sure you were watching where his finger was pointing to dressed up with a chunky silver ring.

“I’ll find him, thanks Luke.” You nodded, his expression still matching yours as you both smiled at each other and he wished you good luck. Then you were set off on your mission again, weaving in and out of cliques to make sure you didn’t bump into anyone. Apology after apology, cringy glances and excuses to make your way through these people who were definitely way more important than you were.

You spotted a glass door to the main hallway of the venue, might as well try your luck… you pushed it open and was immediately met with still silence. Once the door closed, everything was muffled. You sighed with relief, closing your eyes and standing in the warm entryway light.

“Overwhelmed?” You heard a voice, opening your eyes again and looking to your left to see Ashton leaning against the wall. His tie was loose, top button of his shirt undone with his blazer strewn across the bench next to him. Would it be terrible to admit how quickly you started blushing?

“Uh… sorta.” You hesitated again, blinking innocently at him. “No, I wasn’t. I was looking for you.”

Ashton was expecting you to give a different answer rather than just being “overwhelmed”, but that wasn’t the one he was thinking of. There was visible confusion in his eyes, gently twisting his expression and deepening the subtle frown lines. “You were?” He furrowed his eyebrows, pushing his hair back in a way that told you he had product in it and couldn’t run his fingers through it like normal.

“Yeah, I was. I found Luke, he told me you’d be here, so…” Your breath caught in your throat, looking back at the door you came in through before taking a step out of the way and closer to Ashton. Tension was thick, but it eased once you saw the smile tugging at his lips. Score.

“He’s not too great at keeping his mouth shut, is he?” He looked at you expectantly, making your heart pound even faster.

“Guess not. He never was really.” You shared a grin of your own.

“Remember when we’d want some alone time?” Ashton said softly, straightening his tie again and keeping his eyes glued to your loving face. “I could never really tell him where we were going, next thing you know the whole crew would be with us in the dressing room.” The fondness of the statement made the both of you crack a smile now, it was hard during those years to actually enjoy some quiet time… maybe that’s another buffer in your development as partners. As people.

“Sorry you had to drag me everywhere you went all the time.” You giggled, Ashton instantly shook his head without a second to spare.

“Don’t be.” He waved a hand dismissively at you. “You got me through a lot, you got us through a lot. At the time you were so… normal. A real human being, without a camera, a microphone… you had a life before publicity. We didn’t.” Ashton explained, reaching out for your quivering hand. You had no idea you were shaking until this point, your nerves got the best of you.

“But—“

“That gave me no excuse to treat you the way that I did.” Ashton cut you off, and honestly, you weren’t mad about it because he had just finished your sentence for you. His thumb grazing your knuckles made your stomach turn, unable to hold back the urge to squeeze his hand in return.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. So fucking sorry.” Ashton shook his head, the sincerity in his half-lidded hazel eyes making your own eyes well up. “You shouldn’t have put up with me for that long, but, fuck… would you believe me if I told you I wanted to give you everything?”

“Just— please, stop. For just a second.” You pleaded, looking down at the floor. Without an argument, Ashton shut up. He took a deep breath, still holding your hand and tilting his head to try and look into your eyes.

“I was never angry at you, you know that? I didn’t mind that you needed space, I would have given it to you.” Another explanation to which he listened more intently than ever before, like you were teaching him the meaning of life right before his eyes. “It was your responsibility to know that, instead of leaving me feeling like… well, other reasons.” You mumbled, the implication clear of what you thought the end of your relationship was.

“I see.” Ashton hummed in understanding, feeling relief wash over him once you looked him in the eyes again. There was a bit of silence, making you hesitate to speak again. Thank god Ashton did for you. “Are you alright? Like, in general.”

You nodded, the hasty beating of your heart had come to a calm pattern now that the initial anxiety had washed away. “Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?” Ashton replied the same way, nodding silently which brought a sentimental smile to your face.

“Missed you so much.” He admitted quietly, his voice breaking in a way that had the nerves in your palms tingling with empathy.

“Missed you too… saw you just got done with tour.” You matched his tone of voice, waiting to see if this game of imitating each other would end or if it was simply subconscious.

“Yeah, it was alright.” Ashton scoffed playfully, he loved performing. “Alright” was definitely an understatement for any show he played. However his sarcasm made you laugh again, god was it contagious… he couldn’t help himself from joining in.

There was something a bit different in your laughter, your voice cracked and faltered until a tear was slipping down your cheek and making a trail in its wake. Ashton’s hand slipped around your shoulders pulling you close as you squeezed your eyes shut to avoid letting anymore tears ruin your makeup.

“I… I don’t know why, I just—“

“Shh,” Ashton interrupted you once more, rubbing your shoulder as his lips pressed to your hair. “Don’t need to explain, s’okay.” He muttered, holding you in silence for a few moments letting you take control of your emotions.

“You smell like a fuckin’ gallon of hairspray.” Ashton teased, looking down as you pulled away and left a gentle smack to his chest. The white dress shirt he was wearing now stained with your makeup.

“Not my fault.” You scrunched up your nose, another beat going by as you noticed your makeup on his shirt. “Sorry about… that.”

“Oh, heavens— it’s terrible.” Ashton grinned, shaking his head as he tilted your chin with his pointer finger and his thumb. “It’s okay, it’s just a shirt.” He teased.

A sense of contentment washed over you, smiles adorned both of your faces as Ashton pulled away to grab his jacket from the bench.

“I appreciate you. Really— a lot.” You spoke a little more clearer than you have been, catching Ashton’s attention as you both headed back towards the door.

“I’m glad, um,” Ashton started to put his jacket on, stopping in front of the door to the party. “I’m gonna be in town for a while, would you..“ His hesitance made you smile, egging him on to finish his sentence. “Would you want to get coffee tomorrow?”

“That’s it?” You laughed, expecting a much more intense request than that. Ashton’s cheeks went pink, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’d like that.” A gentle response to soothe Ashton’s nerves just as he did yours.

“Okay.” He breathed, his lips curling into somewhat of an amused smirk. There was some pride in knowing he could still make you feel the way he did years ago, the wit and humor was still there, feelings weren’t too rough… Ashton was at peace once again. He opened the door for you, comically bowing and gesturing for you to walk in before him. Your own smile never faded, entering the venue once again with Ashton trailing behind you like the last year and a half never happened.

Another pass of relief and contentment, the two of you found Luke and the others fairly quickly just by the sound of Luke’s high pitched laugh. Glances were shared between the group, but not a single word was mentioned about how there wasn’t a thick black cloud of negative energy hanging above the two of you. It felt normal again. Normal amidst died down chaos and a place with these guys where you could be content.

Inevitably, fan accounts and press were screaming over your reunion with your ex-boyfriend the next morning. Coffee that day turned into a writing session, a writing session turned into a long night spent talking about what you had missed in each other's life and how intense everything had been up until this point.

[gayjaytodd]

The year is 2002. I am seven years old. All I want is to be Robin Hood for Halloween. I have the bow, I have the clothes. - Please, I say, dragging out the word so it becomes a song: Pleaseeeeee. My mum says: - Wouldn’t you much rather be Maid Marian? We can plait your hair all pretty, and you can wear one of my dresses. She seems so excited by the idea. I put my bow away. I let her plait my hair. I wear the dress.

The year is 2009. I am (almost) fourteen years old. I’m rebellious; I dye my hair black; I wear black eyeliner, and black jeans with large holes in them; I get drunk and I get high, and I listen to angry, German rock music. I kiss boys. I think maybe I want to kiss girls too. In class, we learn about gender reassignment surgery. I think that it’s a shame I’m a girl because I’d quite like to be a boy. The thought scares me. I bury it. When my parent’s ask, I tell them I don’t want a bat mitzvah. I tell them, I don’t want to lie to G-d. I don’t tell them what I’d be lying about.

The year is 2011. I am sixteen years old. I’m lonely. I can’t focus at school. I don’t know how to make friends. There’s something wrong with me. Other girls talk about kissing boys and having sex with boys. I don’t talk about it but I do it. I kiss boys. I sleep with boys. There’s something wrong with me. When his stubble scrapes my cheek, when his big hands press my waist, I don’t just feel warm, aroused. I feel -- jealous. I want to be him, I think. G-d, I want to be a boy. I ignore the feeling. I hope it’ll go away. It doesn’t.

The year is 2013. I am eighteen years old. Two of my brother's friends want to kiss me and touch me and fuck me. I like the attention. I like their hands. I like the way they pull my hair. I don’t think about: what their hands would feel like on my chest if it was flat. what sex with them would be like if I had a dick. what kissing feels like when both of you have a beard. One of them is a soldier. I get hypothermia from swimming across a lake in Sweden in December. He calls the ambulance. - Why did you do that? He asks in the hospital. - I dunno, I answer. It’s a lie. I wanted to prove myself. That I’m tough. That I’m brave. That I’m a man. I kiss the worry off his face.

The year is 2014. I am still eighteen, though not for long. My friend and I write a play. I suggest creating characters based on ourselves. She loves the idea. The characters are both men. I cut my hair short. Boy short. I look at myself in the mirror. I feel the most at home in my body that I ever have. I’m transgender, I think. I try to say it out loud. The words die in my throat. No sound comes out. Still, I consider it a victory.

The year is 2016. I’m twenty-one years old. It’s been a year since I finished high school. I work as a teacher. I wear makeup and dresses and high heels every day. There is something wrong with me. I don’t feel like myself. I don’t feel real. I don’t eat. Everyone compliments my weight loss. I don’t say: I don’t eat because nothing matters and nothing is real and I want to die because what does it matter if I die today or tomorrow or in fifty-four years? I do say: - Thank you! - You’re so pretty now, my mum says and strokes my hair that’s gotten long again. I cut it all off two months later.

The year is 2018. I am twenty-three years old. I live in Wales. I’m studying acting. I’m doing good, but --- - You have some sort of mental block, my tutor tells me. - I miss going to Shul, I say. That's not what it is. I'm not a bad actor because I'm a bad Jew. I'm a bad actor because I don't feel at home in my body. I'm a bad actor because I don't know how to be myself. I'm a bad actor because I'm always acting. - Maybe you should start going again, she suggests. I agree. I start attending services at a temple in Cardiff. - Call me Raphael, I ask the Rabbi, my voice shaking. I’m terrified, he’ll question it. He doesn’t. He smiles and invites me in. My anxiety evaporates.

The year is 2021. I am (almost) twenty-six years old. It’s my final year in acting school. I don’t know what’ll happen afterwards. We’re doing our main show via zoom. It’s the first day after New Year’s Eve. My hands are shaking as I type out a message for the groupchat I’m in with my coursemates: I don't really vibe with being a woman, so if y’all could use gender neutral or masculine (they/he) pronouns for me from now on, I’d be massively grateful. For five minutes nothing happens. Then a notification appears at the bottom of the screen: Several people are typing... I haven’t been this scared since - Well. I have never been this scared. Then finally: Ofc!! So happy you told us :)) x Thank you for being you!! <3 Happy you felt comfortable enough to tell us! <3 Gg for letting us know, that’s a pretty big first step <3 Love you so much, proud of you <3 I cry. I smile. So what if I can’t look at myself in the mirror without dissociating? So what if the clothes I want to wear look wrong on me? It doesn’t matter. I have never felt this accepted.

The year is 2022. I am (still) twenty-six years old. I live in Cardiff. I have a degree in acting but no acting jobs. I don’t have any job at all. I want to die. Or no. That’s not right. I don’t want to die. I just don’t see the point of living. My doctor suggests hospitalisation. I refuse. My mum insists I move back home. I do. Everyone calls me by a name that doesn’t feel like it’s mine. Everyone uses the wrong pronouns. Every time I look in the mirror, I dissociate. That isn’t my body. That isn’t my face. It can’t  be. G-d wouldn’t be so cruel as to trap me in this shape. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. I don’t feel real. Nothing feels real. I am going to kill myself.

The year is 2022. I am twenty-seven years old. I live in Denmark. I go back to university. I tell my therapist about the suicidal ideation About the body dysphoria About the gender dysphoria About wanting to be a man who kisses other men She makes me promise to tell my family before the end of the year. I’m terrified. I tell my little brother. - What do you want to be named then? He asks without hesitation. - Mark, I answer. He lights up with excitement. - Can I call you Marky Mark? I frown. - Sure? - Cool! He keeps walking, whistling. - Thank you for being so chill about this, I say. He shrugs. Throws an arm around my shoulders. - No matter your name, he says, you’re still you and I love you. I want to cry. I punch him in the arm instead. I smile.

[spurgie-cousin]

Yeah my example was unfortunately true: March 2012, January 2013, March 2013, and April 2016 (2 from end stage Alzheimer’s, one from pneumonia during lung cancer, and one from stroke) and I still mentally give the middle finger to the priests at all 4 services for all including some kind of “now let’s give thanks and be grateful to god for the time he gave us with them” interval prayer like “I’m sorry grateful to WHOM? At 18-22 I should have had more time with them the fuck?”

Also what a message to send to the younger kids in the audience that also wanted more time with our relative: “be grateful for the maybe 10 years you got with this person even though you didn’t start forming solid memories until like 6 years ago”. If any priest pulls that at my funeral I’m getting out of the damn box and fighting them and whoever cleared them to put that in the service

That's awful, I'm so sorry for your loss 💔💔one of the family members I lost was also to dementia and goddamn what a particularly horrible experience that is.

I realized while reading this ask that more than anything, when you're going through something hard surrounded by people who truly believe in the "god works in mysterious ways/just be grateful you get anything and not nothing" thing, it's just.......the lack of acknowledgment that something awful has happened and it sucks that is the worst part. People constantly try to reframe it as something else, something you should be happy about, grateful for, or something you should take as a sign to better yourself, etc basically anything other than what it is, which is just a shitty fucking thing that happened. What I needed most in those times and what still helps was someone to just agree with me that this sucks, this hurts, shitty things happen because that's just life and we need to grieve them before we move on. To really get over it, you have to sit with the reality of it for a period of time and come to terms with all of that, not just reframe it as something good and push all your hurt down deep so it can inevitably surface later.

Idk that might all sound dramatic to some people or like I'm blowing it out of proportion, but it's hard to explain how maddenening that is to grow up around. You're just looking at everyone from your family to your pastor to your friends like "are we ever just going to talk about this normally" and just waiting for the time where someone does that and it never happens.

[sebastianshaw]

Hey friends! So, you might have seen me remark yesterday that I think the end of the Judgement Day event is a good stopping point for me and Marvel. I had more or less quit reading before JD, but then I felt compelled to keep abreast of it since characters I liked kept being important. With it concluded though, I intend to quit reading or keeping up with what’s going on. I’ll be remaining ignorant to the best of my ability. While I am not quitting this blog, I do intend to spend less time on it. The first reason is that X-Men and Marvel have just ceased being interesting to me. Even my faves no longer engender the level of passion they used to. I knew this day would come. I do not often talk about it here, but I am on the autistic spectrum. X-Men was a hyperfixation for me in middle school. I spent inordinate amounts of time and money to become a walking encyclopedia for every single X-Men character there was at the time, then basically dropped it in high school. I would not return to it until I was a college graduate, around 2012 or 2013 when my interest suddenly resurged at random. In 2014 I set up a fandom blog, then at 2015 my first Marvel RP blog, then in 2016 this blog. That’s six years writing Shaw here, seven years writing Marvel canons here in general, and eight or nine in the Tumblr X-Fandom. So, it was probably about due to start going dormant again for me. Perhaps it will rise again. Probably will, in fact. Maybe in a matter of months, maybe not for another decade, maybe never, who knows. The second reason is honestly I just hate the Marvel/X-fandom. There’s no reason to mince words, I loathe 99% of what I see outside my buds. I try to cultivate my own fandom experience, of course, but I’m just tired. You guys are swell, I’m talking on a much wider level, and the less interested I get in current canon the less it’s worth it to me, the more I think it’s better for me to just disengage entirely if I hate it so much. Why give attention to something I hate, after all? Which brings me to reason three: I want to cut down my time on Tumblr and online as a whole. I think I’m on the Internet a really unhealthy amount and have gotten in the unfortunate habit of doomscrolling, especially at night when I should be trying to sleep. That shit’s not good for my mental health. I gotta be the adult for myself and take my toy away for my own good. I do feel super bad both for my old faithful mutuals with whom I’ve had such incredible fun, as well as awesome new mutuals whom I was just getting to know. This isn’t goodbye, again, just, it is probably going to be a lot less of me. But I will still need somewhere to post art and my silly shitposts! You have definitely not seen the last of me or Shaw’s hairy tits just yet!

[the-rewatch-rewind]

Back after a week off!

Script below the break.

Hello and welcome back to The Rewatch Rewind, the podcast where I count down my top 40 most rewatched movies. My name is Jane, and today I will be discussing number 31 on my list: RKO’s 1937 dramatic comedy, or comedic drama, Stage Door, directed by Gregory La Cava, written by Morrie Ryskind and Anthony Veiller, from the play by Edna Ferber and George S. Kaufman, starring Katharine Hepburn, Ginger Rogers, and Adolphe Menjou.

When heiress Terry Randall (Katharine Hepburn) decides to go into show business, she moves into a theatrical boarding house called the Footlights Club with other, significantly poorer, aspiring actresses. She keeps the details of her privileged background secret, but nevertheless struggles to fit in with the others, particularly her new roommate Jean Maitland (Ginger Rogers), who see her as a snob. The conflict heats up even more when Terry is cast in a role that another Footlights Club resident, Kay Hamilton (Andrea Leeds) had her heart set on.

I can’t remember exactly how I first discovered this movie, but I assume it was because I love both Katharine Hepburn and Ginger Rogers, and I was trying to watch as many of their films as I could get my hands on. They are two of the four actors to make it into at least 4 of the movies that will be on this podcast, so it makes sense that I would keep revisiting a movie that featured both of them, even though they apparently didn’t get along very well offscreen. I think I might have seen Stage Door for the first time in 2002, I’m not sure, but once I started keeping track, I watched it 17 times: twice in 2003, three times in 2005, once in 2006, twice in 2008, twice in 2009, twice in 2011, once in 2013, once in 2014, once in 2015, once in 2016, and once in 2022. Back in 2013, I blogged about the movies I had watched at least 10 times in 10 years, and at the time Stage Door was the only one of those I didn’t own a copy of, so I know that at least all the views prior to then were because I borrowed it from the library. When I finally got it on DVD, it was part of a Katharine Hepburn collection that included the 1933 version of Little Women, which won Best Adapted Screenplay. When I was going through adapted screenplay winners in 2017, after I watched that one, the collection somehow fell under my bed without me realizing it, so the next time I wanted to watch Stage Door, I couldn’t find it, and it wasn’t until 2022 that I finally cleaned out under my bed and uncovered it. So Stage Door would be even higher on this list if I cleaned my room more often.

In my last episode, I mentioned that what I really wanted out of Newsies was more of the ensemble just hanging out, and that is exactly what Stage Door provides. There are so many great scenes featuring Footlights Club residents exchanging witty banter, without in any way hindering the plot. While some of that comes from the stars, particularly Ginger Rogers, the supporting cast is absolute gold and features several relative unknowns at the time who became quite famous later, such as future television stars Eve Arden and Lucille Ball, in addition to then-14-year-old Ann Miller, who used a fake birth certificate to pretend to be 18, and somehow managed to hold her own dancing with Ginger Rogers. Gail Patrick was already somewhat established as a master of the cold, calculating secondary character, and she continues that here as Linda, Jean’s main rival before Terry shows up, but she later became even more noteworthy for executive producing the Perry Mason TV show in the 1950s and 1960s, when she was the only female executive producer of a prime-time show. It’s so fun to see these soon-to-be household names so early in their careers hanging out and swapping jokes. But I think I would still enjoy the ensemble scenes at least almost as much if I’d never heard of any of the performers. One of my favorite moments is when the oldest resident who is now an acting coach, played by Constance Collier, is going on yet again about “Back in my day” and somebody who’s holding a book interjects, “when knighthood was in flower” and Constance Collier is all offended until she says, “I’m sorry, I was just reading aloud” and her face and delivery are so perfect, and I have no idea who that character or actress is but I love her.

I’ve read several different stories of how this script came to be. While it’s ostensibly based on a play, apart from the title, the setting, and some of the characters’ names, it’s barely recognizable as the same story. Playwright George S. Kaufman reportedly quipped that the title should have been changed to Screen Door to further distance itself from his play. One story claims that director Gregory La Cava sent an assistant to pose as an aspiring actress in a boarding house and write down what the residents said to use as dialogue in the film. Another version says that La Cava had the actresses from the film hang out together on the set prior to shooting and incorporated their interactions into the script. And yet a third version is that much of the dialogue was improvised while filming. I’m not sure which is true, and I suppose it could be a combination of all three, or none of them, but regardless, the banter is excellent and feels entirely natural. While the slang is, of course, rather outdated, the way they insert snarky comments into their conversations feels exactly like how friend groups – particularly those who are discouraged and fed up but laughing to keep from screaming – interact in real life even now. It’s unusual to see a movie with a primarily female ensemble being so witty together, and I can’t even begin to explain how fun it is to watch. Granted, some of it does get a bit stereotypically catty, but even the least-developed unnamed extra in this movie feels like a real person. Beneath their jovial facades lurks a deep longing for success on the stage, as well as frustration at how difficult that is to achieve, and they all convey that so brilliantly. Mad props to the entire cast.

Like many of the movies I’ve talked about so far, Stage Door has a rather complicated relationship with sex and romance. Because production codes of the time prohibited most sexual content, they had to leave it kind of vague, but it’s implied that the character of theatrical producer Anthony Powell, played by Adolphe Menjou, is providing Gail Patrick’s character, Linda, with expensive clothes and jewelry in return for sexual favors – although why she’s still living at the Footlights Club is rather a mystery – until Ginger Rogers’s character Jean catches his eye and he gets her a job dancing at his nightclub. Jean initially despises him, and only starts dating him because of how much she hates Linda. It’s not entirely clear whether Jean actually sleeps with him – there’s a scene of her in his apartment getting very drunk, but then she starts talking about marriage and Powell has his butler send her home. But they apparently keep seeing each other after that, and Jean does seem to develop feelings for Powell, for completely unfathomable reasons, but Katharine Hepburn’s character Terry sees through him. There’s a great scene when Powell takes Terry to his apartment to discuss the role she’s just been given and she resists his advances, but then when Jean shows up Terry pretends they were in the middle of something so that Jean will see that Powell is no good. This doesn’t help Jean and Terry’s relationship, and most of the characters at the Footlights Club probably think that Terry got the role by sleeping with Powell – although the audience knows it’s because her father said he would help finance the new play if she was the star, hoping that she would fail and return home. Jean already thinks that Terry has previously had a similar arrangement to the one Linda had with Powell because Terry also has expensive clothes and a photograph of an old man she claims to be her grandfather – but again, the audience knows that Terry comes from a rich family and that the man probably is her actual grandfather. I guess showing characters inferring that other characters were having illicit sex was okay with the censors as long as it wasn’t confirmed? Also Powell tells Jean in the scene when she’s drunk that he has a wife and son, but later Terry exposes this as a lie, so even if he is sleeping with any or all of the people that characters think he might be, at least he’s not committing adultery because he’s not really married. Maybe this is just me, but I find it so fascinating what was and wasn’t allowed under these production codes. Anyway, in a similar but perhaps more innocent vein, Lucille Ball’s character is from Seattle, which apparently means she knows every lumberman who visits New York, so she’s often going out on dates with them. Jean clearly despises their uncouth ways, but the food at the Footlights Club is notoriously almost inedible, so she’s willing to let them dance on her feet and bore her in exchange for dinner. Incidentally, one of these double dates is what Eve Arden’s character is referring to in the line I quoted at the end of last episode about “a pleasant little foursome” and predicting a hatchet murder. It doesn’t seem like there’s sex involved in this arrangement, although Lucy’s character does end up marrying one of the lumbermen at the end, but it feels similar to the Powell situation in that it shows women willing to give men what they want in exchange for security, luxury, or both.

The idea that men always want sex and women either tolerate or use sex is certainly not unique to this film – it’s a prevalent stereotype even now that is harmful in so many ways, encouraging and normalizing incredibly toxic relationship dynamics between straight allosexuals. And a side effect is that it makes things very confusing for asexuals. Those who are socialized as girls may not recognize their own asexuality because women aren’t supposed to really want sex that much anyway. And those who are socialized as boys are pressured to ignore their asexuality because men are supposedly defined by their obsession with sex. It’s not great and we need to stop spreading this false narrative. But in terms of this movie, when you remember that it’s from 1937, the same year as Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and “Someday My Prince Will Come,” it almost feels progressive to at least show women taking control of their own lives, even if they’re forced to do so within the confines of an oppressive, patriarchal society. There are a few times throughout the film when it’s suggested that these women would be better off getting married and raising children and giving up on their acting dreams, but this is presented as the view of society at large, particularly men like Powell, and not necessarily the truth. It’s rather empowering to see these women stubbornly taking the path that feels right to them even when they’re constantly being told to give up and conform. So from that perspective, the message feels less problematic and more encouraging, and that aspect speaks to me.

This movie also addresses mental health struggles in a very interesting way that I want to discuss a bit. Trigger Warning: I will be talking about depression and suicide in this section, so I’ll put time codes in the show notes if you need to skip through that [skip this and the next paragraph on the script]. For its time, I feel like this movie actually does a pretty good job of distinguishing between feeling a bit down and actually suffering from depression. Most of the residents of the Footlights Club are struggling to find work, but they’re managing. Kay Hamilton, however, is clearly not. She’s behind on her rent and skipping meals but refuses to ask for or accept help. It’s established that she gave a highly acclaimed performance in Anthony Powell’s previous play but hasn’t been able to find work since. Kay desperately wants the leading role in his new play, both because she needs the work and because she relates to the part. When Terry is cast instead, Kay is devastated, but insists that none of the others inform Terry how much she wanted it. To add insult to injury, Terry is awful in rehearsals, refusing to take direction and reading the lines as emotionlessly as possible, so we can all see that Kay would have been a much better choice. On opening night, Kay gives Terry her good luck charm, and then jumps out the window, killing herself. Jean confronts Terry and blames her for Kay’s death. Terry is beside herself – Kay was basically the only one who was nice to Terry – and at first doesn’t want to perform at all, but her grief puts her in the perfect mindset to play the character whose feelings she’s never understood before. She’s clearly performing to honor Kay’s memory, and all of the Footlights Club residents in attendance recognize that, and afterwards Jean and Terry finally become friends.

The main thing I remember from the first time I watched this was how shocked I was by Kay’s suicide. It felt like such an abrupt and upsetting change of tone from what had been mostly a lighthearted comedy. But upon rewatch there are so many signs. When all the other residents of the boarding house are laughing off their troubles, Kay never joins in, only occasionally managing a weak smile to try to reassure her concerned friends that she’s fine. Nobody knows how to help her, and she doesn’t know how to accept the help that’s offered. It’s an upsetting but realistic portrayal of depression, and Andrea Leeds plays it so perfectly that she was even nominated for an Oscar. Considering that, even with all the recent advances made in mental health research and treatment, many people still consider depression just a period of sadness when you’re not trying hard enough to cheer yourself up, it’s astounding that a movie made 86 years ago does such an excellent job of conveying what it actually feels like. It’s not really sadness; it’s more of a void. A hopeless void that you feel like you’ll be stuck in forever. And that’s what Kay shows us. I don’t think I consciously realized this when I was watching Stage Door as a teenager suffering from depression, but I do think in a weird way it helped, to see what I was feeling from the outside. To see that Kay was surrounded by people who cared about and wanted to help her, that the void was lying when it told her there was no other way out except through the window. I wish there had been a way to save her, and I don’t love the implication that her death was necessary to make Terry a good actress, although I don’t think that was the message they were going for. I think the film is trying to say that art and storytelling can be used to channel pain into something beautiful, and while there are certainly better ways to convey this that don’t involve suicide, I still feel like this movie is surprisingly respectful of mental health struggles, particularly for its time, and I appreciate that.

I know I’ve been emphasizing some of the darker aspects, but it’s mostly an uplifting movie. It’s just also trying to be realistic about the hardships faced by women pursuing artistic careers, particularly during the Great Depression – not that things are much better now. I kind of think having this movie in the back of my mind has contributed to at least some of my decisions to support female actors and producers on Patreon. If only the residents of the Footlights Club had had access to the internet. Anyway, there are lots of fascinating behind-the-scenes Stage Door stories, and I’m not sure if any or all of them are actually true, but I want to mention some of them nonetheless. There was apparently a random cat on the RKO lot that took a liking to Eve Arden, so Gregory La Cava decided to make it part of the movie that her character was almost always holding or playing with the cat. Perhaps the most famous line in Stage Door is Terry’s speech in the play, which starts with “The calla lilies are in bloom again…” This was taken from a play called “The Lake” in which Katharine Hepburn had appeared on Broadway, and, in the words of critic Dorothy Parker, “ran the gamut of emotions – from A to B.” So Hepburn used this performance to redeem herself a bit. She certainly shows more emotional range than A to B, although I feel like she still had more to learn before becoming the truly excellent performer she’s remembered as. According to several accounts, Katharine Hepburn was extremely envious of Ginger Rogers, whose career at the time was going much better than her own. Rogers had a much easier time taking direction and getting along with people, and just seemed to generally have more natural talent for performing. So Hepburn resented her, and insisted on sharing top billing instead of taking second billing under her. Rogers was disappointed when Margaret Sullavan, who had played Terry Randall on Broadway and was originally cast in the film version, became pregnant and had to drop out. So neither of them were thrilled to be working together. Since I love both Katharine Hepburn and Ginger Rogers, it makes me a little sad that they didn’t actually like each other, but that was kind of perfect for their characters’ dynamic in this movie. A nicer story is that Ginger Rogers helped launch Ann Miller’s career by insisting she get the role of her dance partner even though the director thought she was too tall, and apparently Rogers and Miller became life-long friends. And one last fun piece of trivia that I recently stumbled upon is that the woman in the photograph of Anthony Powell’s pretend wife was Verree Teasdale, who was married to Adolphe Menjou – so the character’s fake wife was the actor’s actual wife.

Thank you for listening to me talk through another of my most frequently re-watched movies. We’re a quarter of the way through the list already! Remember to subscribe or follow on your podcast platform of choice for more, and rate or leave a review to let me know how you’re enjoying it so far. This episode is coming out on International Asexuality Day, so I hope my fellow aces out there are feeling particularly supported and celebrated today. As always, I will leave you with a quote from the next movie: “You promised me a zillion dollars! And a nickel!”

[thepalmofyourfreezinghand]

I didn’t even think about the Rep pics! Those were great. Just imagine all of the pics they took we never saw 💔 Reputation was when I became a fan and it’s been interesting to see all of the publicity that comes with single Taylor 🥴 Again I wish whatever convo Swifties want to have about possible new flings they please not mention Joe and insult him at every turn. All fandoms are toxic but the change in narrative of their story is very disappointing. Really want to know how people think is the most appropriate way to date one of the most famous people on the planet. Please write a handbook because you’re clearly an expert. And it takes away Taylor’s agency to assume she didn’t agree with how they kept their relationship private. Rant over. When do you think Reputation TV will come out? I’m most excited about that one.

Oh, yeah, the craziness of single Taylor - era is on another level. This is still nothing compared to 2013-2014-2016, and I feel like the public has MOSTLY gotten over following Taylor’s love life like it’s their job. Swifties, on the other hand, are being absolutely unbearable with the TK rumor. I’m not talking about some general speculating (which is fine). I’m talking about those who cannot be normal about what’s happening and are talking about it like they have nothing else going on in their lives besides knowing all the details about Taylor’s next long-term relationship. It’s crazy.

And about rep… right now I think she’ll follow the same pattern she’s been following since 2020 (new album - 2 re-recordings - new album - 2 re-recordings). I think we’ll get a new album in 2024 and we’ll get rep in 2025. I also recently thought that she might wait to release debut in 2026, just to wait for the 20 year anniversary, since it’s very close? But I’m not sure she’s gonna wanna “drag out” the process until then. I think that a new album is coming sooner rather than later, though. Like, I really think she’s not waiting until the end of 2024 to release it. I’d rather have the 2 remaining re-recordings over a new album, because I’m still not mentally ready for TS11 and the mess it will bring, but I’ll end up loving every album she releases as always :).

[self-loving-vampire]

Depersonalization is a cluster of mental and emotional symptoms generally described as feelings of unreality, with sensations that the world and one’s self are flat, lifeless, distanced, or emotionally dead (American Psychiatric Association, 2013). Sufferers report experiences such as feeling that they “have no self”. They “don’t feel” their emotions; they often feel split into two parts, with one participating in the outside world and the other inside observing and commenting; they may ruminate constantly with a compulsive inner dialogue of self-scrutiny (Steinberg, Cicchetti, Buchanan, Hall, & Rounsaville, 1993). They experience a lack of agency in their own life, and can feel like a “robot” or “zombie”; they feel as if they are simply going through the motions or acting out a script. They may have obsessive thoughts over the nature of existence and reality (APA, 2013).

They may sense that they are almost physically separated from the world by a glass wall, veil, fog, bubble, or skin; their perception of the world becomes somehow colorless or like a picture with no depth; they experience the world as “unreal”. Their emotional numbness becomes a bodily sensation and they feel as if their head is filled with cotton. They may struggle to imagine people or places vividly (APA, 2013). They feel that they are disconnected from life; while they can still think clearly, some essential quality seems to have been lost from their experience of the world (Medford, 2012).

Although depersonalization is considered a dissociative symptom, there is notably no element of delusion or false beliefs about reality. Instead, it is the texture of conscious experience and existence itself that takes on an “unreal” feeling (Steinberg et al., 1993). Depersonalization can co-occur with depressive and anxious symptoms, but it has been established as a distinct symptom – it is not a “negligible variant” of depression or anxiety (Michal et al., 2016).

Depersonalization causes functional, social, and occupational impairment comparable to or worse than that associated with depression or anxiety. Sufferers are more likely to be unemployed, more likely to be single, and more likely to be living with their parents (Michal et al., 2016); children aged 12–18 more often report social insecurity and avoidant coping strategies, and are more likely to repeat a grade of school due to poor performance (Michal et al., 2015). Crucially, individuals with depersonalization often find the experience deeply disturbing and distressing (Medford, 2012). While it may seem paradoxical to experience both a lack of emotion as well as intense emotional pain (APA, 2013), depersonalization is nevertheless experienced as such a “painful absence of feeling”. As one woman stated: “I fully, fully thought that I’m dead, everything is completely futile . . . And if I’m not dead, then I just don’t care enough about anything to be properly applying myself to any of this.”

A lot of this and the associated posts reminds me of someone...

Interestingly, one of the core points of these articles is that a lot of trans people experience intense dissociation and depersonalization as an effect of dysphoria.

Under this view, the increased emotionality a lot of trans people experience upon getting on HRT may not be directly caused by any emotional effects the hormones have but by reducing these common depersonalization symptoms.

[blackbird-brewster]

Idk what to do. I can’t stay in this state. They haven’t passed any new anti-trans laws here yet, but it’ll happen soon. There’s also just so much trauma and shit here and it’s killing me slowly to stay, but I’m terrified to leave. All my family is here. My lost pets and loved ones are buried here. I know it’ll kill me to stay, but the fear of moving is just so big. The fear of what my family will say or think terrifies me.

Hello Anon,

First off, thank you for trusting me with your worries. You're absolutely not alone, I've actually been through this exact same thing. I'm going to put my reply behind a cut because it involves mental health stuff/homophobia/etc. <3

I want to share my story, because it might help you. Or at the very least, I want you to know you are in good company here. I understand completely. I spent about 90% of 2014-early 2016 in and out of psych wards, hospitals, and ICU. I lost someone very dear ot me at the end of 2013 and it was the catalyst for a complete psychotic break and then a subsequent series of horrific mental health crisises.

At the time, I was living in Texas (born and raised). My family is super conservative (I have since cut them all off), it's the American south, super conservative, and I had been out as queer since age 15. It was never a place that was safe for me. But it's where I ended up.

Due to my mental health, I lost my job, then my apartment, and I ended up being homeless. Which obviously didn't help the mental health issues. I lived in my car for over a year, everything I owned in the world fit in a tiny Chevy Aveo compact.

My circumstances, my location, everything -- (as you said) was killing me slowly. I attempted to take my own life multiple times because I just saw no other way out of my situation.

I knew if I stayed, I wouldn't survive. I knew if I stayed there, it was a death sentence. Like you, my family was there, my past loved ones were buried there (I've seen too many deaths in my life, so this was doubly true and important), my life was there. But it wasn't much of a life at all.

In early 2016, my car got repossed while Iw as out of town. I was very lucky that the repo company allowed me to collect my belongings (since it was literally the only things I owned, since I was still living in that car) So what was I to do when the car I lived in was gone? I had nothing, I had nowhere to go. That place was suffocating me day by day. I had met a woman on here and we'd been in a sort of long distance online relationship for a handful of months.

I decided there was absolutely nothing worth staying in Texas for. I ended up selling what little I had, clearing out my tiny bit of money, crowdfunded the rest -- and I bough a one-way ticket to Aotearoa. My flight was 10 days after I bought the ticket. I gave everyone in my life a 10 day notice that I was moving across the globe on a whim. My family scoffed, they thought it was stupid, told me I'd be back, told me just like everything in my life 'it was a phase', etc. But I did it any way.

And you know what, Anon? Eight years later, I'm a permenant resident here, I'm thriving, my life is so fulfilling and beautiful. While the woman I moved here for wasn't my forever, this country was. My current partner and I have been together for five years, and they are my forever.

I will NEVER regret buying that one-way ticket. It literally saved my life. My handful of friends in the US know that if I had stayed, I wouldn't be here today to tell you this story. It HURTS, god it hurts deep in my soul, to be so so so far away from those handful of people who will always be my best friends. It really hurts to know how many huge events I've missed because I live a world away, but at the same time, we all agree that it's much easier to long for each other than for them to mourn my death.

So I'm not sugar coating it, moving away from people you love is SO difficult, and you will miss them always. But (depending on where you move to) you can visit them, and if not in person, technology can connect you with one click. I talk to my friends every single day and we make it work. (I'll never go back to the US)

It's a VERY hard choice, but ultimately you need to ask yourself what's more important: your life or other people's opinions.

I hope you choose your life. Because the world needs you, Anon and it would be a dimmer place without you. Don't let your location hollow out your soul, don't let your location take your life, it's just not worth it. Move, relocate, start over in a safe environment. I am so very proud of you and I love you, I know you've got this. <3

[liminalweirdo]

this is really sudden but any movie recommendations, im in a bit of drought for this to watch right now and i’m up for anything, especially if it’s horror related, or gay or can be interpreted as gay you know what i mean?

Horror and gays, two of my favourite things. Here's some movies that are mostly both.

My top choice is not-quite horror, and you've probably seen it, but just in case you haven't, Stand By Me (1986) is one of my favourite movies, and it's Stephen King, so it definitely has horror vibes, even if it's never out and out scary.

As for horror that's kinda gay? (I'll try to get the obvious ones out of the way since I'm not sure which ones you already know about.)

Ginger Snaps (2000) and Ginger Snaps: Unleashed (2004) feat. my favourite probably autistic, definitely (gender?)queer Brigitte Fitzgerald.

I know it's really popular now, again, but the old Interview with the Vampire (1994) was pretty queer for its time. Obviously the show outshines it in terms of queer content, but hey, I love these two idiots.

Tomie (富江) (1998) from Japan is pretty cool and queer. In a similar vein, Wishing Stairs (2003) (which I think is the third? one in the Korean Whispering Corridors series) still sticks in little queer teen me's mind.

Obviously Jennifer's Body (2009), this is like my comfort film lmao.

The Quiet (2005)

and

Excision (2012) feels pretty queer to me, but others might disagree. At the very least, Pauline is so wonderfully weird she's basically queer in my books.

All Cheerleaders Die (2013) was a lot more fun than I thought it would be.

also, maybe it's not overtly queer enough for other people, but the friendship in The Battery (2012) which is one of my FAVOURITE ZOMBIE FILMS OF ALL TIME is a pretty good one. It could be homoerotic if you squint??

Lyle (2014) and What Keeps You Alive (2018) are a very specific brand of overtly queer horror that is specifically, canonically queer, but not my favourite type of queer, if I'm being honest. I don't want to spoil anything so I won't say more. Lyle is an incredible film, and not just because Gaby Hoffman is so so beautiful and absolutely just knocks it out of the park. What Keeps You Alive is... less good, but fun to watch with pals, I guess. It's that kind of horror.

Speaking of beautiful people, Don't Kill Me (Non mi uccidere) (2021) Alice Pagani and Silvia Calderoni I'm sorry? My gender exploded. I don't know why it has such a bad rating on imdb. It wasn't amazing, but it was fun and unique. Worth a shot, imo.

The Perfection (2019) what a fucking ride. Pretty queer. Maybe don't eat first.

The Midnight Swim (2014) isn't quite horror and isn't quite queer but it is female-centric, and I don't think enough people have seen it. It deserves a watch.

The Blackcoat's Daughter (2015) was a girl's boarding school which already made it queer enough for me haha. Some good scares in this one. Better than anticipated.

And, speaking of boarding schools, The Silenced | 경성학교: 사라진 소녀들) (2015) is a Korean movie set during the Japanese occupation of Korea in the '30s and idk man. Beautiful, weird, gay. It was good. If you like this one, you will probably like A Tale of Two Sisters (장화, 홍련) (2003) which is (probably) not queer but very, very good horror and very beautiful.

They Look Like People (2015) is another one like The Battery. Could be homoerotic if you squint. Obsessed with the male friendship in this one, and the mental illness factor. I really love this movie. This is the movie I would maybe double-feature with Super Dark Times (2017) for top five fave boy-friendships.

Raw (Grave) (2016) arguably not queer, but certainly queered desires or 'othered' desires. Another female-centric horror. I love this one. Blue My Mind (2017) feels Queer AF. It's like if Fucking Åmål (1999) was a horror movie. I also recommend Fucking Åmål, but it's not horror, it's just queer.

Thelma (2017) actually queer. Beautiful, extremely well-done, not crazy about the ending.

Would it be weird of me to mention The Shed (2019) Maybe I just wanted it to be queerer? I can't actually remember if it was now, just that the potential was there.

And, not quite queer but definitely good horror, check out Magic Magic (2013) if you haven't seen it. Girl Asleep (2015) is horror adjacent, not super queer, but also just... so weird and good and fun.

[lovemehatemex0]

alright here's everything going on in my life:

currently, i havent moved all afternoon. i've been in bed crying the whole time & it's because my thoughts have got the best of me lately. november & december are usually pretty hard for me. november's always been a difficult month for me mentally (don't know why, just has been since 2013) & december gets to me because i just don't like being alone around Christmas & then my birthday follows that. honestly one of my biggest fears is being & dying alone once my parents are gone.

okay next. i like my job, don't get me wrong. i just wish i was as busy as I was at people's. I'm only busy during the months after quarter end (so January-february, april, july & october). so I do a lot of thinking throughout the day & sometimes i'm just sitting around. that's why when I work from hone, I can do whatever I want because not much is going on.

I'm also trying to move out in a year. it's about time. i wanna stick around here because all my friends, my parents & you are here but apart of me wants to venture to the city still. one place i'm currently looking at are some townhomes in shelton but they rent for about $3K a month. Not something I prefer, but I'll be looking around. living at home isn't doing it for me anymore. yeah it's nice because i save money but it's also driving my mental health down the rabbit hole.

my mind's not well. i've gained a lot of weight from being so sad & honestly not moving or being active like i was.

going to my friends, everyones going through something & for some of them, I feel like I'm a punching bag. But some need it more than others so I put up with it. Besides, I would rather other's be happy than myself. Unfortunately that's a trait I got years ago after being so incredibly upset & suicidal in 2016. (bet you didn't know that did ya)

lastly, i know it's something i shouldn’t get upset over & i know your situation. but sometimes i just wish i could talk to you & see you more, because that's all i want. i care about you a lot & well, you know how much i like you. so my mind goes to the what if's & wishing of things that can happen & then i get upset over that. needless to say, i just wish things could be different.

the only positive thing i look at right now is how much i've changed & grown over the last year. like i told you i've toned down on the craziness, i ask more questions & get answers rather than assume things now. i dont trust many, only a select few. that's why when something bothers me or i want to know answers, I just come on here & ask you now. i hope you know too, i do trust you. & ever since we rekindled things back in april & i told you about those 5 things that bothered me the last time around, i saw the change you made for me too & i like this version of you & me much better than the last.

hopefully this gives you some color to what's been going on in my life lately. i like telling you what's going on because i know you'll be here for me no matter what. plus i’m comfortable around you so i know i can just be myself. I just dont want to be so negative, so i keep a lot of things to myself. hope to talk to you soon.

[thecpdiary]

Toxic Positivity: Why the Cup's Not Always Half Full

“How do you stay optimistic with all that’s happening in the world?” It's a question I've been asked many times.

I have always been positive, I’m not sure I would call myself optimistic. My exterior comes with deep internal conflicts. Internal conflicts that started as far back as a child, with a disability I didn't know I had.

Difficult circumstances and emotional pain

Even through difficult experiences and in emotional pain, I always thought I should have a positive outlook. Being positive saved me, but it is important to continue to be positive, because without it, your mental health can change.

But I've never been free of emotional conflict. It's why when I first got my cerebral palsy diagnosis, I decided to start a blog and The CP Diary was born. This blog explains why the cup isn't always half full. It can't be. Depending on our circumstances the cup half full, can always change to half empty.

Deep Internal Conflicts

If you know my story, you'll know I’ve had a lot of things to contend with. Also, having lost my mother to cancer 16 years ago in 2007, losing my father 10 years ago in 2013, the UK then called time on their relationship with the EU and the 2016 referendum was called, then the pandemic struck. I got Covid in November 2022, then through my twin's trauma and mental health issues, I lost her on the 10th December 2022, while still recovering from Covid, so I never got to say goodbye to her. That’s a lot of internal conflict and grief to deal with. I've struggled my way through all of it.

The words don't always flow freely

With all that to have to deal with, around my writing, I can find myself stuck, the words don't always flow freely. Luckily, I write in advance, so I have blogs to call on. Truthfully, I've been struggling for months, since my twin died. For anyone following my blog, they may have noticed I put more feature page quotes out in those times, so that I can deal with my mental health.

With the blog you get to see a different side of me. In my personal life and with autism, I struggle daily to block out the noise. Dealing with losing my twin, it's also become harder for me to block the noise out. This is me 'laid bare'.

Plunging into more anxiety, mayhem and darkness

A few scrolls on social media apps to get my writing out and I am plunged into more anxiety and darkness. But I write, because not to would put me into a worse mental space. The noise I talk about, would simply go on around me instead. In the 10 months since I lost my twin, I wake up and struggle to motivate myself. I can't believe she's gone. Some days I’m not even dressed by lunch time. But that's okay, I'm being kind to myself.

Trying to find my voice

There is no doubt, I've been plunged into darkness. There is no doubt, social media, has also been plunged into mayhem and darkness. The darkness I talk about doesn't just affect me, we’re all affected by the darkness of politics, of our time. I appreciate what I write may not rest comfortably, but you would do well to prep. Not to prep, can plunge you into darkness when you least expect and are ill prepared. Shit doesn't not happen because we choose to ignore it's going on.

Don't judge a book by its cover

My personal life is far from rosy as my words, or my blog. I struggle and continue to struggle, but I continue to do my best so that others can feel better about what they deal with. We are all affected by mental health.

Doing my best to inspire others

The topics I write about affect all of us. We’re all suffering from inflation, cost of living crisis, businesses in dire straits, shops on the high street closed, jobs disappearing. We’re afraid of the future of what is to come. We all have reason to be. We can try to be the light in the dark.

As I continue to carry on with my writing, on my blog, I do my best to help explain, inform, give hope through explanations and also to inspire. I continue to be open, honest and transparent. I hope you will continue to support.

For Sheila.

For more lifestyle blogs, please check out my site https://www.thecpdiary.com

[videobobbo]

just a good semi-private place to say some things

wow, tumblr. hilariously, every text post I had for a month-to-month period was me going “wow, I have one of these?” and just writing after, and even 10 years later, I guess I’m doing it again.

my life is weird right now.

I love it in some ways. the girl I last wrote about here is my wife now! she said yes to a proposal in Tokyo (casual flex alert) and we got married in 2020 (cursed year that was). I’m in school learning how to make games! I’ve learned some small amount of 3D modelling and texturing and feel progress.

mentally, though, I just feel beaten down.

I’ve been unemployed for 3 years now. lost my job near the start of COVID, rode out unemployment (I mean, come on, why not), and have been having sort of an identity crisis about work since then. learned I am on the autism spectrum, which makes a hell of a lot of sense, but then it also makes me feel weird in some ways, like if that statement I just made is ableist or perhaps callous in some ways. a lot of the time lately, I feel a sort of apathy that’s halfway between peak 2013 suicidal ideation me and downtrodden sad boy me, which I can best describe as the feeling of not wanting to live but also not wanting to die. haven’t thought about tasting a gun while standing on the bank of the Truckee River, but also just feel like life, good though it can be, is just a grey mass of nothingness.

proud of myself for making some big moves. mutinied out of my old WoW guild and brought the cool and chill people I knew wouldn’t disharmonize the people left behind into a new guild, which caused no small amount of strife and people being assholes openly to me, but it was a pretty easy demonstration of why I was right to make the move in the first place. I still let this one infiltrate my thoughts a lot, mainly because even some of the people I thought were cool were rude to me on the way out, and I never like feeling like people are mad at me, even if I am valid and correct in my critiques, did a lot to try and fix things before moving on, and then ultimately was publicly irritated with them in a veiled and non-identifiable way. it’s been like 8 months since I ran out, but I still feel a little anxiety and apprehension about that whole thing to the point that I seek validation for my decision in all sorts of ways, some healthy and some less-than.

guess the biggest issue of the last few years for me has been this feeling of regression in life. I’m almost 40, and the thought of that feels so crushing and heavy in a way I can’t meaningfully describe. my gym rat phase of 2016 burned out hard and I’ve regained all the weight I took off in that 8 months, and given I burned over 100 pounds, that feels real bad, man. life feels directionless, rudderless, with every day feeling like I am in control and able to move the ship how I please but then never feeling like I have that control at the same time, with the same bad decisions, regressions, and complacency taking root all the time. my life in peak 2013-2014 era me was chaos, absolute fucking chaos, but I felt like so much was happening and even after sifting through the absolute pile of shit my life was becoming then, there were genuine diamonds and all these great little moments tucked into it. I’m making moves but at the same time I just feel like nothing is going anywhere and I have this deep sinking pit of regret I keep falling into where some days I just don’t do anything but sleep until noon, wake up, play video games and play with our cats, hang out with my wife, and then go back to sleep - and that sounds great too, but I just feel...empty.

I know the real answer is a mix of me needing to do things for myself and me needing outside help. I still feel this stigma against therapy, against antidepressants and medicating through it, and even now that weed is legal here and I often just pop an edible and ride through the worst feelings, it’s not the right answer. I feel this need finally, for the first time in my life, to go to therapy, to talk to people outside of my circle about the darkness that I so often feel, to get the right medications and treatments for dealing with all the things in my brain that just go so wrong for me. and yet I’m also scared, because American health care sucks ass, and so what if the meds are too expensive? what if the treatment is unaffordable even with insurance? what if I’m actually not ready to be that open with a relative stranger about my feelings?

I want to start going back to the gym, and we have a membership, but we’ve been lousy about it. I want to get my diet dialed back in to that 2016 level, but man, that’s tough - I genuinely only pulled that off because I was single and absolutely just in the zone with my focus.

my relationship with my parents is in absolute shambles, but a big part of that is that I even maintain it at all. it became very obvious that my mother just does not care about me at all - she couldn’t bother to even ask how we were doing when we got COVID last year, was at our wedding but forgot the anniversary just the next year, and has made her disdain for me very clear - and the signs were always there, but I refused to listen to them. now I just humor her phonecalls until she leaves me alone and refuse to go to family events, but I should really just open up about it to her and cut her out, because every phone call from her makes me physically ill and hearing from her ruins my day, literally - our honeymoon/anniversary trip was ruined for me because she called while we were driving to ask if I was gonna be at a thing for my sister when we told them already we wouldn’t, why we wouldn’t, and she just didn’t remember any of it (and with no memory issues or diagnosed things there). it hurts and I hate it, but I still haven’t found the courage to be open about it to her - and maybe I won’t, dunno.

I guess the last time I felt this dark, this stuck and crushed by life, things got better pretty fast and I had a banner year in my life. I keep hoping that is a trend and that maybe it will happen just like that again, but I also know I need to put the kind of effort in I did back then to make those things happen and guide them along. maybe writing that publicly is a helping first step to get there, even if I also kind of hope no one ever reads or as much as sees this.

[rachel-blue]

2022.

What a year of returning back to where we needed to be. It’s been a year full of reconnecting with family and friends and music (including the very aptly timed Army of Freshmen show a few weeks after our return to the west coast). A year full of yarn and books read in the hammock and sunshine and NO ICE STORMS. I made it back to the river with my mom (and briefly questioned why I’m working a desk job still, but then remembered I have a mortgage to pay), and also added a few new states to my list (WY, MT, and VT, as well as transits through ID and NH) and a new country (Germany!). Looking forward to getting back on track next year and shifting focus to home renovations, weekend trips out-of-state, and a nice not-so-lil’ raise on my paycheck!

2022 Highlights:

Home Owners. It’s many years after I thought this milestone would come about, but I’m so glad that purchasing a house brought us back to Vegas. (Though, let’s be real, I would’ve clawed my way out of Texas regardless of whether we were buying or not). It’s definitely a starter home and has some work to be put into, but it’s ours and I’m excited to see where we take those renovations this year.

Mary Jones Soda. I could care less to consume anything cannabis-based, but I sure do love seeing my photos on bottles! Jones hit me up for their inaugural run of Mary Jones Soda to use not one, but THREE of my photos (including one of my favorite Route 66 stops - Twin Arrows)! We were able to track down all three early on in the CA release schedule, and they’ve now joined my other Jones bottles on display in the house.

Yellowstone. The national park, not the show. After a year with my current company, I had the opportunity to hop on a trip from San Francisco out to Yellowstone (with a very, uh, exciting stopover in Salt Lake City). Bison and geysers and fresh air aplenty. West Yellowstone is quite the tourist town, but the national park is a special spot and I’d love to experience the Upper Loop the next time I make it up that way.

Remember, remember. A lot of our energy, finances, and mental focus was dedicated to our wedding this November, and what a day it was. I’m so glad we stuck with doing exactly what we wanted with this day, from the venue choices, to the band, to our photographers. I actually found myself wishing we had a few more hours to go when our reception was wrapping up. Highly recommend planning your wedding for you and not for anyone else.

Okay, tschüss! We decided to spend our honeymoon exploring the German Christmas Markets, rather than escape to some tropical destination on the beach. It was a week full of glühwein, brats, Christmas pyramids, cobblestone streets, and also some very somber historical visits. We brought home a couple Herrnhut stars to light our windows during the holiday season and a renewed appreciation for mulled alcohol.

Books read this year: 134

‘22 playlist (in no particular order): Andy Grammar - “Joy” Army of Freshmen - “Condition Christine” End Transmission - “Talking in Circles” Frank Turner - “Haven’t Been Doing So Well” Pitbull & Zac Brown Band - “Can’t Stop Us Now” Elvis Presley - “Viva Las Vegas” Amigo The Devil - “I Hope Your Husband Dies” Streetlight Cadence - “Rooftops” (Midnight Version) Wham! - “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” Goldfinger - “99 Red Balloons” Wolves of Glendale - “Olivia”

[2021. 2020. 2019. 2018. 2017. 2016. 2015. 2014. 2013. 2012. 2011. 2010.]

[queersatanic]

When it comes to The Satanic Temple, there's always more

The Satanic Temple uses people—uses them up and discards them (or worse).

If you think you're different, look at what happened to those who came before.

TST will use any weakness you give them and hurt you with it later: your housing, mental health, even the death of your pet.

Some of you may even remember this Vice article from a few years back:

Ash Astaroth was then the director of the Temple's headquarters in Salem, and he was still assistant chapter head of the NYC chapter he had helped found.

So in 2016, The Satanic Temple found Astaroth useful for public propaganda, as in that Vice article, even though it wasn't necessarily representative of the organization as a whole. How could it be given who started TST (and who still owned it)?

Satanic Trump-supporter Brian Werner's sign speaks for itself, but Werner also believed abortion was "killing a child". Werner apparently found the death of Trayvon Martin very funny, or at least wanted to be edgy selling clothing about it.

TST owner Doug Misicko a.k.a. "Lucien Greaves" a.k.a. "Doug Mesner" reaching out to Shane Bugbee also says plenty, and we've covered that relationship elsewhere. Short version: "One drop of Jew blood means you ain't breakin' bread with me, motherfucker" is something Bugbee once said in the middle of a 24-hour stream with Misicko.

But Zach Black may be less familiar to most.

From The Village Voice in 2014:

Zach Black is a 38-year-old sushi chef in Northern California and a longtime Satanist. He started the Satanic International Network, the largest — though not the only — social media site for Satanists. He was a card-carrying member of the Church of Satan for nearly a decade, from 1994 to 2002. For the first few years after he joined, Anton LaVey was still alive. That made all the difference, Black says, and the church was much more “proactive.” Black is one of a group of disaffected ex-Church of Satan members who believe Gilmore was never supposed to become the church’s next leader. LaVey wanted to pass the torch to a man named Boyd Rice, an artist and writer who was a close friend, Black says. “But he turned it down. He didn’t want to do it. I’m not sure why.” ... Rice, meanwhile, went in a different direction. For nearly two decades, he was part of Death in June, a British neo-folk band that anti-racist groups have accused of supporting white nationalism. Rice has repeatedly denied being a racist or a Nazi sympathizer, a claim that was not bolstered in 2008, when an old video surfaced of him on a public-access TV show, describing Death in June as a proud “racialist” band.

In other words, Zach Black thought it was a shame this guy didn't take over Church of Satan, and therefore Black joined The Satanic Temple to get it going.

Proactive.

So, back to that Vice article, the message was "We're not like those other Satanists", the Church of Satan, sure, but also Brian Werner, Shane Bugbee, and Zach Black who got TST off the ground in 2013-2014.

This distinction, which also involved throwing those men under the bus and pretending they weren't relevant, was made explicit in that interview with Astaroth.

In 2014, as [Astaroth] prepared for a life explaining away his Lucifer tattoos with a spiel about liking the literary archetype, he discovered the Satanic Temple, an unrelated though similarly-named group. It was actually an anti-Satanic Temple rant that drew him to the organization, posted to YouTube by Brian Werner, a former death metal vocalist in the band Vital Remains. "It's become a very liberal, compassionate, borderline hippie-like outlook on politics and societal issues," said Werner. "If this guy is leaving the Satanic Temple for those reasons," Astaroth recalls thinking. "That's exactly where I need to be."

Those who were there during this era would remember Ash Astaroth because he was central to The Satanic Temple's operations, first in New York City, then in the headquarters in Salem as an employee of 64 Bridge LLC, or the "Salem Art Gallery".

In this capacity, Ash comes up in the Belle Plaine lawsuit depositions:

The Satanic Temple's owners "helped" Ash Astaroth by letting him move into Salem Art Gallery / TST's physical headquarters.

This sounds kind, but remember, they weren't just letting him stay as a friend: they worked him. They really worked him.

Read those depositions and email evidence from 2017, or just run a find for "Astaroth" to count how many times he's involved in a national campaign over TST's veterans' memorial. It is extensive.

Ash's housing was directly controlled by his employer.

When you are an organization that targets vulnerable populations for "help" and "opportunities" but you control their continued access to resources, no amount of smiles or love bombing or kind words will ever change the inherent threat of what's going on. Look no further than how this level of control can go to extremely dark places than recent events with the Black Hammer cult in Atlanta.

That's the context of the article that Ash Astaroth wrote after being "excommunicated" from The Satanic Temple in 2018, coinciding with the "Great Schism" where many chapters left the national Temple org over TST's owners' priorities and histories coming to light.

In the next post, we're going to reproduce Astaroth's article largely without commentary but with some content warnings where relevant. Then, at the end, we'll say a little more.

But as a general warning, watch out for self-harm and sui references, mental illness, abuse, and pet death.