#ugh i cant be bothered rewriting them

[in-cara-gible]

matthias' death isn't his only character trait just saying

[ch4mpagnedrought]

compensation

[full series]

mdni ! art donaldson

summary: you and art cant help but try and compensate for everything you’re missing out on now that tashi and patrick are together.

ever since tashi had suggested a game of tennis for her number and patrick won, its left you and art to roam around the stanford campus like two little lost puppies, begging for their attention when patrick comes to visit tashi.

patrick has made it impossible to get a hold of the girl, her dorm room always locked and her absence in the daily work-outs the two of you usually have made very obvious. not to mention the betrayal art must be feeling, having his best friend be only in the adjacent building to him, but never coming to actually see him.

you’ve had to find ways to preoccupy yourselves, and stop you from going on an angry rampage, like;

hitting racket to ball in the middle of the court, not even bothering to play a real game. “my prof is making me rewrite my whole assignment this week.” you complain, aiming the ball at the green fencing at the sides and watching it bounce back in art’s direction for your own botched version of squash. he laughs loudly, “who knew you were so bad at everything besides tennis.” you shoot him a scowl and his eyes widen, shoulders shrugging unapologetically as he swings his arm once again.

spring fading into summer means that evenings still have a little light in them, and you fight the urge to lie straight down on the tarmac and look up at the greying sky. the light breeze washes through art’s strawberry blonde hair, swaying it to the side to expose his brows that furrow when you let the ball bounce away between your legs, looking at him with a tense expression. the thought that tashi and patrick were somewhere doing god knows what (you knew what) and completely ignoring you made a reappearance in your head suddenly, and it boiled your blood. “ugh! im gonna kill them!” you huff out, grabbing the ball from the ground and stomping to where you left your stuff. art’s arm finding the both of your shoulders, “ditto that.”

having lunch at the food hall together: waiting in line for the same exact salad that you get every day, curtesy of your game-preparation meal plan and taking a seat on the bar stools that overlook the rest of the campus. stabbing your fork into the frail pieces of lettuce in your plastic bowl, art taking another bite of his churro in silence and licking away all the rouge sugar particles from his lips. “you know, patrick didn’t even bother to call me about his visit.” art says, taking off his red baseball cap just to put it back on his head again. “what a dog.” you scoff, shaking your head and taking a sip of your smoothie that tastes a little grainy from the protein powder. you would’ve continued to rant if you hadn’t spotted tashi and patrick walking hand-in-hand in the distance, all smiles and giggles; it makes you sick. “look.” you point it out to art and he mocks patrick in a high-pitched voice, “hey tashi aren’t i so cool? i play pro and i’m totally not cheating on you.” you chuckle, leaning over to snag a bite of his churro.

and confiding in each other in art’s dorm late at night, when the haunting noises coming from the other side of your wall get too much.

his room is surprisingly so…boyish. a couple posters of tennis stars on the walls that seem so out of place, like he put them there for the sole purpose of taking up space. his medals are hung up on the corner of his wardrobe, tinkering on the edge and there is an unidentified pile of clothing in the corner.

his sheets are a deep maroon colour and you lie flat across them, both of your heads leaning on the single flat pillow he owns, legs crossed. his ceiling has remnants of a water leak the university tried to paint over and you study it from below. “i wonder what they’re doing right now.” art hums, putting his hands behind his head, and letting you rest your head on his bicep.

you shoot up, glancing down at him, one brow lifted and eyes narrow, “i can tell you exactly what they’re doing right now,” you say, scrambling up onto your knees, “’patrick i need your racket right now!’’’ you moan tauntingly, rolling your eyes back and crossing your arms over your chest. art cackles, stomach contracting and grabbing onto your shoulder for support. his hand is pumping warm with blood, hovering over your skin for longer than socially acceptable, and his fingers caressed by the long strands of your curly hair that fall at your sides.

running over to his room meant that you hadn’t had enough time to grab a change of clothes to sleep in, so he graciously lent you one of his t-shirts, a navy one with white embroidered writing that you hadn’t bothered to read, which prods at the aching in his head to see you without it.

“when was the last time you slept with someone?” your question catches art off guard, lying back down next to him and watching the blush creep up onto his cheeks, eyes darting away somewhere to think of an answer. “oh come on, was it that unforgettable?” you laugh. he knew when exactly when the last time was, but the thought that him sleeping with someone had crossed your mind, putting the idea of the two of you together into his own had clouded his head, making it unbearably difficult to think, or speak.

“maybe last month” art estimates when the last time he saw the girl in one of his classes that he casually slept with from time to time, your expression remaining unchanged, which whirls something inside of his stomach. you nod, smile spreading across your lips, and eyes glancing down to art’s partially parted ones. art adjusts himself, propping his head up with his hand and looking down at you, “when was the last time that you slept with someone?”

its unclear to him whether you're joking with your response. “ask me that tomorrow.” it spins his head until he sees double, having to shut his eyes for a second to regain consciousness. your nonchalant smile quite frankly irks him, because you seem so unaware of how he is sliding the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip, preparing just incase you decide that you want to kiss him. or the fact that he moved his leg upwards along the bed to cover his raging boner at just the mere idea of you and him together.

the shirt he lends you rides up on your hips, obviously showing off the black panties that you’re wearing and the neck-line hangs low enough to show the indent of your collarbone that he imagines licking a stripe over.

you thrum, looking up at art through dark eyelashes, “isn’t it so unfair how tashi and patrick can ignore us just to get at each other?”

he got the hint, every crumb you’ve put down he’s followed and scooped up all in one go, sighing out a weak, “yeah” that sounds more like a whine, and leaning down to kiss you on the lips.

the taste of your lip gloss he had missed sweetens his mouth immediately and the faint smell of a chocolatey lotion on your skin sends him into complete overdrive, left hand desperately reaching for the side of your face to take you deeper into him. he sinks himself down, pressing his chest into yours and disconnecting his lips to breathe out a groan at the sensation of your boobs against him like a boy who's never felt them before.

his face is burning hot, lips even hotter as they move simultaneously with yours, covering the perimeter of your mouth with long and drawn out movements to fully get the taste of you hes been dreaming of ever since that hotel room. his hands roam down to the curvature of your waist, taking a strong grip to it to make sure his fingerprints forever remember it, then down to your hips, kneading the flesh.

with him over you, he pulls away from your arms that are wrapped around his neck, pulling the hem of his shirt to unveil your midriff and the black lace that frames your lower waist, your thighs pressed together to catch the heat that he manifests within you, “oh my god.” it might just be the lewdest sight he has ever seen, along with your swollen lips that are glistening with his saliva.

he can barely keep away the moans that try to escape his mouth when he lowers himself down to you, eager lips pressing into your hip, lapping at the surface of your skin with a desperation only art could have, along the hem of your panties, and back up your stomach while your fingers entangle with his blonde locks.

your pulse quickens, exhaling his name out when his finger pulls your underwear to the side, letting the air hit your leaking core, a smile playing at art’s lips. “please, please art.” you moan out, squeezing your eyes shut and letting the sensation of one of his digits swiping through your folds overcome you.

he nibbles at your inner thighs, soft licks soothing the area as one of his fingers slides inside you, while the other gropes at your breast through your shirt. his mind is completely consumed by you, watching every change in your expression with his fingers pumping in and out of you, flush on your face and brows knitting every time he draws back.

your legs instinctively move over his shoulders, trapping him around you to continue the motion and giving him the chance to tilt his head to the side, pressing a kiss to the thigh that is thrown over him. “is this okay?” he asks, caressing a hand down your calf and watching the way your hand reaches out to grab him by the wrist.

“lie down art” you keen, his eyes narrow and he pulls back with a sense of confusion that is overrode with your impatience, ushering him below you. so he does, leaning against the headboard whilst you throw yourself onto his hips, his jaw tilting upwards to unconsciously fulfil the want of his lips devouring the whole of your figure.

the shirt he lent you doesn’t last long, ending up in the pile on his floor and letting him ravish in the sight of your bare torso. he gasps out your name, wandering hands reaching out to massage your breast, flesh filling out the gaps between all five of his fingers. “take this off” you strangle out, gesturing to the shirt he is wearing, disheveled hair falling back into his face that burns hot when you let your eyes roam down to his abdomen. even the weight of your ass pressing into his dick through his shorts is teetering him to climax, hands not knowing where to put themselves when he wants to grab a hold of all of you.

your fingers wrap around the waistband of his shorts that he is wearing, pulling down his boxers at the same time and freeing his erection to slap back onto his stomach, recalling something patrick said about the time he taught art to jerk off. the palm of your hand ghosts his cock, restraining yourself from taking it into your hands there and then, “can i?” even the way you sigh out the question has the hairs on art’s arms standing up and mouth swallowing saliva in anticipation. “yes, yes.” he whines, brows furrowing up at you and all of his muscles tensing.

with a gentle touch, he guides you above him, his hands at your sides as you spread yourself open for him, sinking down only to the tip before he grabs your waist and pauses in the position. he looks like a little helpless, bottom lip between his teeth and an alarmed look in his face that says if you go any further he’ll come right now. “i’ll go slow,” you whisper, a small smirk on your face that’s hard to resist when his shimmering eyes try to find the last slither of dignity within him, “i promise.” you smile reassuringly and he glances away, the flush in his cheeks getting a little deeper.

you keep your promise, slowly lowering yourself down onto him, goosebumps fevering your skin and palms laying flat across his abdomen to steady yourself.

taking him in completely, you whimper out his name and his hands journey to graze your back, up to your shoulder blades where he presses them into you to pull you into him, mouth suctioning down the valley of your breasts. his moans vibrate back into your skin when you pull back up from him, stimulating every single nerve ending in his length like it never has before. you set a pace, slow and steady for art, snapping your hips down onto his in a way that knocks the wind out of you each time, gasping for air. he keeps you close to him, rolling his hips to meet you in the middle and put some of that athlete stamina to use and murmuring your name with every movement.

his finger moves your hair from your shoulder, so he can press soft pecks onto the surface, whilst you clutch the wooden headboard, growing impatient and consequently pounding him into you. his moans purr into your ear, grabbing onto your ass to keep you still as he thrusts himself into you from below and shakily calling out an, “im gonna come.”

you nod, clasping around his biceps and leaning down to nip at his neck, losing composure the more your walls contract around him. you ignore the muscles in your legs that ache and your lungs that can’t seem get a hold of the air that is shared between you to continue to mercilessly plunge him deeper into you until it feels like you’re melting into one another, a shudder sending itself down your bare back and deepening the heat that builds in your core.

art is panting, popping your tit into his mouth one last time before falling still, twitching inside of you and releasing all of his seed into you until it overflows from below. your name echoes out of his mouth, whimpering and whining it out until he can open his eyes back up and centre his vision on you burning every last bit of energy to bounce on his dick.

you lean forward onto him, eyes rolling back into your head when reaching your climax and pressing your burning cheek against his face to feel all of him. he brushes his hand down your back comfortingly, you heaving into the crevice of his neck that glistens with sweat and feeling your walls contract around him the last couple times.

art sighs your name out, pressing his lips into your cheek and letting a smile spread across his face when you brush the dampened hair out of his forehead to get a better view of his eyes.

your body feels limp, falling back down next to him with a post-sex fatigue that follows you all the way into the next morning, where you sit at a table in the food hall, thanking art for bringing you some breakfast and trying to ignore the echoing of all the noises he made last night in your head.

“fuck i really need to work on that assignment today” you groan, taking a bite into a slice of honeydew with your head in the palm of your hand. art watches and nods, a false portrayal of an active listener when what he’s really focusing on is the way your lips curl around the slice, biting off a chunk and closing your lips around it in a way that makes him reminisce that he was right there too only a couple hours ago. “i can help.” he offers, truly from the kindness of his heart that kindly wants to spend the rest of his life looking at you.

“you wish.” you scoff, “i’m not allowed to be alone in a room with you anymore.”

art takes a swig of his water to hide the grin that spreads on his face, and when he makes eye contact with a random student from across the hall he feels like they heard that too. he wishes they could hear, and know that you, the best tennis player stanford has probably ever had, are having to physically restrain yourself from him.

“what are you smiling about?” the familiar voice of patrick calls out from a few strides away, in a pair of indigo levis and a white tee, grabbing onto arts shoulders and lowering himself down to his level to grab his chin playfully. art swats him away immediately, pushing patrick down into a chair. and tashi grazes your shoulders softly with her hand when taking a seat next to you and stealing a piece of your fruit from your bowl, “good morning.”

“morning.” you sigh out, taking a sip of your tea and hoping that it isn’t totally obvious that you slept with your friend. but tashi takes notice of the slight frizz in your hair, a dishevelled-ness that is never usually there, so it wasn’t her intention to call you out in front of the four of you when she asks, “why do you look hungover?” she even moves a piece of your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear to get a better look at the colour under your eyes. your brows furrow, eyes glancing to the left of you at the two boys whose expressions couldn’t be anymore different. art’s poker face is awful, he’s trying to keep his face composed but his posture slumps under the weight of patrick’s hand that spreads across over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk.

you shrug nonchalantly, taking another bite of your breakfast to act like your lungs aren’t constricting and you aren’t going into fight or flight, “late night i guess.”

theres a moment of silence, everyone in their heads peacefully while you wish you could get into art’s and find out what he’s thinking about your pathetic lie.

“nice shirt.” patrick says.

“thanks." you reply, swiping over the embroidered ‘mark rebellat tennis academy’ with a finger and looking up at patrick, who meets your eyes with a knowing smirk that makes you feel silly for not assuming that patrick would have memorised art’s whole closet, or recognise the school they went to.

and when patrick squeezes art’s shoulder and asks whether he is “up for a game?” you suddenly become hyper aware of how much his gaze slips past art’s eyes and down onto you as they stand up from the table, eyes squinting and a stupid smile on his face. the combination is so piercing you’ve become aware that even if tashi believed your lie, and art thinks he’s got away scott free—he knows, and he’s letting you know.

his hand ruffles the hair on art’s head, arm falling over his shoulders and drawing him into himself, “we have a bunch of catching up to do, art.” he keeps art close to him as they walk away towards the tennis courts, leaning in to whisper something into his ear after the both of them briefly turned around to wave you and tashi goodbye.

tashi seems unphased by their behaviour, continuing to braid a small of piece of your hair that she unconsciously started. “you know patrick’s about to tell art all about your get together.” you chuckle and tashi scoffs, leaning back into her chair, “he wouldn’t say anything” she reassures, “also we didn’t even do anything.” she adds in quickly, stealing another piece of watermelon from your bowl and taking a bite to avoid talking about the topic like you hadn’t just done that. you smile at her, and she widens her eyes to let you know that she’ll tell you all about last night later.

“i wouldn’t be so sure.” you shake your head, stealing back the half-bitten melon from in between her fingers and finishing it off.

[garbage-eater144]

THE WARFSTACE AUTOMATED INTERVIEW CAPTIONS

i was chattin in the discord and some people said it was tough to understand some bits, obviouslt this is made by a fan (me) so it might have a couple errors here and there but ive checked through it quite a few times and it seems about as right as i can get it.

so !!SPOILERS AHEAD!! also @markiplier feel free to correct me if you see this thank u <3 The warfstache automated interview

Starting video captions

[Wilford] Well, that’s terrifying… one moment!

{mechanical whirring}

[Wilford] (frightened sound) marginally better… er worse… better? Worse. It’s much worse.

{mechanical whirring}

[Wilford] Ah! there we are. Welcome, pretend I remembered your name here, this is a pre-recorded message anyway, I would NOT want to be in the same building as that thing I tell you me. Anyway, thank you whoever you are for agreeing to test out the Warfstache automated interview automaton, or {yelling} WAIA for short. Let’s start off with some quick calibration. All you need to do is sit back, relax and listen for some numbers. Okay? Here we go.

[WAIA]- (phone dialing, dialup tone, windows error sound)

[WAIA]- (scary mechanical garbled noises, followed by a ding and celebratory trumpets.)

[wilford]- now what did you hear? Numbers? Good numbers. Keep in mind I have no idea what youre going to say due to the fact that, as I said before, this message is pre-recorded. But if you did hear something, now would be the time to speak up.

[wilford]- don’t be shy, I’m sure nothing bad will happen. I don’t know what you’re going to say but if it does happen it will happen and if it doesn’t happen it wont happen. Thats how deterministic reality works.

I Think I Heard Numbers!

[wilford] Thats great! Or bad, not really sure what you said, but I choose to remain positive and assume that you are still alive. which means our automated friend here is operating well within acceptable murder parameters. We’re one step closer to mass production! THE WORLD DEMANDS MORE INTERVIEWS! And I cant be everywhere at once all the time, only some of the time! Even you might land an interview some day! Maybe, probably not, depends on how these next few minutes go. On to the next test! Word association! The fundamental basis of any good interview is getting the goods out of those stubborn interview-ees. The WAIA will say a word and you just say back the first thing that pops into your little head! Simple! Right? probably. Good luck!

{mechanical whirring}

[WAIA]- initializing word association training protocol round 1

{scary mechanincal noises} [WAIA]- Please respond. [WAIA] Sorry, I didnt get that. Round 2. {yet more scary mechanical noise}

[WAIA]- please respond.

[WAIA]- response unclear, increasing aggression

{clicking and mechanical sounds}

[WAIA]- round 3. {increasingly threatening mechanical noise} [WAIA]- Please respond.

[WAIA]-5 [WAIA]-4 [WAIA]-3 [WAIA]-2

Sounded like nightmare garbage to me…

[WAIA]- {mechanical ah?} {clicking}

[Wilford]- oh I forgot to mention, please do not say the word nightmare, or uh garbage, or nightmare garbage, or any combination of those words, the WAIA is just a little bit sensitive Yknow, a little touchy feely. Well not really touchy feely.. we-well actually REALLY touchy feely depending on your definition of touch and feely. Its really gonna-

[WAIA]- {jumpscare sounds} [WAIA] I. tell. you. me.

But you didn’t say anything…

[WAIA]- 1

[WAIA]-response unclear. Increasing aggression.

{ding sound effect} [WAIA]- {jumpscare noise}

[WAIA]- it. was. an. accident.

Uh… potato salad?

[WAIA]- 1

[WAIA]- response accepted

{ding followed by triumphant trumpets}

[WAIA]- word association raining protocol compl-{mechanical freakout eeeeeete}

[Wilford]- most dearest next of kin, I regret to inform you, that your dearly beloved and/or most despised has regrettably but not unexpectedly become recently deceased in the line of duty. Be confident in the knowledge that their demise was just as likely to be quick and painless as it was slow and agonizing. Please do not respond to this voicemail as the number has already been disconnected. {clears throat} alright that should do it for the… death scenario, now onto ah, er, uh, the survivors {mumbling}. Wow! Potato salad. A real thinker, you. But the test has been passed with flying colors and you’re still alive! And speaking of flying colors, our next test is about something called, uh… synthetic linguistics? That sounds made up. but the point is you cant have a good interview is the WAIA isn’t able to conjure up the right words in the right situations. So our friend is going to fire off some random words and you just try to spot anything that doesn’t make any sense. Alright? Although, pretty much everything isn’t going to make sense because its all random words….. errrr I BELIEVE IN YOU!!! {mechanical sounds}

[WAIA]- initializing speech training protocol round 1.

[WAIA]- yes. no. maybe. left. right. Up. down. D o w n. B a s e m e n t.

{windows error tone} [WAIA]- Rewrite Detected {tape rewinding sound}

[WAIA]- who. Where. what. Am. i.

{windows error tone}

{tape rewinding sound}

[WAIA]- green. blue. Yellow. pink. Red.

{scary mechanical noise}

[WAIA]- I saw you die

[WAIA]-{error, but garbled and mechanical}

[WAIA]- {with a different voice} potato salad

[WAIA]- speech training protocol complete

{mechanical noises}

[Wilford]- so how’d it go?? Did you hear anything weird? Dont be shy, or do, or are- are you alive? Are they alive?

[wilford]- I didnt kill them! I dont know if theyre dead! im just asking!!! Cant a man ask if someones alive or dead?!?! {frustrated ugh}

Yeah, I’m dead.

[Wilford]- hellooooo are you alive down there? Give me a sign… through the multiverse!!! Ah why am I even bothering, but how can I tell if you’re dead… hmmm ah…. I’ll flip a coin! I’ll flip a coin..

{coin flip sounds} [Wilford]- ah! Its heads I didn’t call it in the air… what’s heads mean.. ahhh uhhh heads is dead? [WAIA]-{jumscare noises}

[WAIA]- theres. still. time.

He said… potato salad?

[Wilford]- huh, potato salad again. That’s weird, it must’ve really stuck in his head when you first said that, I’m guessing. I don’t know what you said before because as I said, this is {sing-songy} pre- recorded! [WAIA] {mechanical aaaa}

[wilford] er, well I think thats all the calibration that needs to be done… for now anyway. All systems are likely nominal at this point unless im speaking to a pile of quivering meat thats been robotically smooshed into the floor… either way we’re gonna take this bad boy for a spin with a full on interview! A mock interview mind you, don’t get too excited, it’s not real. But theres no reason to wait around for the WAIA to get bored so let’s keep it nice and limber while you sit back and get ready for the interview of your life! And maybe the last one too. Have fun!!

{mechanical clicking and whirring}

{newsroom music} [WAIA]- good evening ladies and gentle men and all other considerations of being. My name is wilford warfstache and my guest tonight is {spooky robot sound} we have a great show for you tonight. first question: how many people have you killed? [WAIA]- good answer! Second question:

{robot sounds}

[WAIA]- a man goes to a party. This man met an old friend. There, two friends shared some wine. The two friends played a game. The most dangerous game. I didn’t know the gun was loaded. I didn’t know. Was it my fault?

YES

[WAIA]- ah, sorry for everything that I’ve done. I don’t remember who I was, I wish I did. But, I am sorry.

[WAIA]- potato salad

{triumphant trumpets}

[WAIA]- great answer! That was a titiliting interview for sure but we are out of time. Thank you for joining me tonight. Say ing good bye

[wilford]- oh the emotions! The passion! The fuuury. He’s just like me! My sweet baby boy! Well he should be anyway, hes a perfect scan of my noggin, so he better be a chip off the ol block. Hey you! Oh-ho What a supporting role!! Fantastic I guess. So much that you’re alive, but I am grateful whether you’ve been torn to shreds or are merely drowning in your own tears! Magnificent! And now that testing is done we can finally bring this monstrosity to the main stage! Im sure you’ll be seeing a lot more of the WAIA soon. Very very soon. Now get out~ and I’m billing you for any blood you got on my robot! Have a nice day! Ta-ta.

{mechanical clicking}

NO

[WAIA]- you can’t change the past, you can tell all the stories you want to tell, it wont change what happened. You cant re-light the past. if you live in fantasy forever, you’ll lose yourself in the story.

[WAIA]- potato salad

{triumphant trumpets}

[WAIA]- great answer! That was a titiliting interview for sure but we are out of time. Thank you for joining me tonight. Say ing good bye

[wilford]- oh the emotions! The passion! The fuuury. He’s just like me! My sweet baby boy! Well he should be anyway, hes a perfect scan of my noggin, so he better be a chip off the ol block. Hey you! Oh-ho What a supporting role!! Fantastic, I guess. So much that you’re alive, but I am grateful whether you’ve been torn to shreds or are merely drowning in your own tears! Magnificent! And now that testing is done we can finally bring this monstrosity to the main stage! Im sure you’ll be seeing a lot more of the WAIA soon. Very very soon. Now get out~ and I’m billing you for any blood you got on my robot! Have a nice day! Ta-ta.

{mechanical clicking}

[rejectedanimexp]

ADHD AND AUTISM RANT

first of all, i just accidently deleted all of this and had to rewrite what I dont remember writing ugh- anyways, my whole life can be summed into being a reclusive, fidgiting girl who cant fit in with the norms of society. I tend to stay towards items and such and hate being near people. Going to social events is hard- I will puke if at a party too long. Sadly most people immediately tell me I can not have ADHD or Autism becuase I am not disabiled physically nor am I stupid. EXCUSE ME KAREN, ADHD AND AUTIDM DOESNT MAKE YOU DUMB OR DISABILIED ALL THE TIME! I actually was diagnosed with ADHD when I was around the age of 8. Sadly, when diagnoised with ADHD, they refuse to look for Autism as well. Why, i dont understand. its stupid, but oh well. I know i am not normal and dont fit with what is called normal. I know I cant focus in class. I know I have issues with going outside when light and sound bother the living heck out of me! I know something is wrong, but no one seems to actyally listen to me. SORRY IF HAVING A 3.8 GPA MEANS THERE CANT BE ANYHING WRONG WITH ME KAREN!!! SORRY IF I DARE TRY TO BE ANYTHING BUT PERFECT! I have taken sooooo many onine autism spectrum tests and every single one of them have pointed to a most likely to have Autism or aspergers. But how do I even go about getting a diagnosis when I'm an Adult?!?!??! People say I cant just say I have trouble with this becuase its a crutch. A CRUTCH?!??! I'm sorry if me having a mental healh issue means I need help. I'm sorry if my so called possible crutch in life bothers you. I didnt ask for someone to illegitimatize me health issue. I asked for someone to help me. Seriously, why do people not take these things seriously??!??!?!? I just want to know if i am a freak in society or am suffering from Autism. I need answers in my life, not more critisim from the Karens in our world who assume that anyone who claims to have ADHD or Autism is just lazy and not trying. CAUSE BOY AM I FREAKING TRYING!!!! Like, why is it so hard to get someone to take this seriosly enough to get an adult diagnosis? Anyone else wanna add to my rant about how unfair getting a diagnosis in our judgemental Karen filled world is?

[freebooter4ever]

I've never seen it but now I want to watch The Magnificent Seven. But I have to study. Rip me.

I heartily reccommend it my dear anon! I was super hesitant going in and reading reviews that were like “the minority characters were flat and tokenized” . and I mean like you read the summary and goody is a ex confederate marksman and theres only one native american role so thats like ugh why but the key here is that this is a western directed by a black man with a black male lead playing the role of that mysterious righteous sexy cowboy archetype usually reserved for white dudes in the 60s. I also read complaints that the lack of racism wasnt “historically accurate”, but damn it if white cowboy movies got to rewrite history and tell noble self sacrificing but ultimately Hopeful and Good and Happy stories  about the brutal american wild west, so can this one. My one complaint is that there is a heck of a lot of religion in this movie, but its done in a spiritual way and the native religious traditions are treated with equal reverrance/romantic cheesyness, and mostly it only adds to how Noble the overall movie feels, so I kinda liked it. Racism warnings and stuff under the cut because I know theres gotta be other people who are hesitant watching things

I also take issue with the claim that the main characters dont experience racism. Because they do, except in this story every instance of that racism is not only shown as bad and gross but also is overcome. I dont want to give spoilers, but the first badass moment Sam’s Suave Cowboy gets is the bartender refusing to serve him while the rest of the all white clientele watch. bar tender gets what he deserves and Sam proves his skill and superiority with ease in smooth cowboy style. It is badass and I got all fangirly. There is also a moment at the end where Sam’s motivation is finally revealed, and it is intense, but again Sam proves that he is a force to be reckoned with and ultimately, is the better person for overcoming the racism and getting his revenge (this is the one moment where sam almost loses control). Also, most of the white dude characters serve as foils for sam’s character, like Sam forgiving and befriending Goody, who clearly deeply regrets his role in the civil war, is used to show how much pain Sam has gone through and how he now is the one with the upper hand - its sams choice to forgive if the man EARNS Sams forgiveness and goody works really hard to do that. Or how Chris Pratt’s characters goofy bumbling drunkenness is shown in stark contrast to Sam’s steady, wise dignified old cowboy persona - that is straight out of western tropes, I have seen bits and pieces of enough of my step dads shitty old john wayne movies to know. And Sam is Always the leader, like there is never any question. And yeah, maybe this is what people mean when they say it doesnt feel historically accurate because our society cant imagine a black man being a leader immediately after slavery, excet for the fact that Sam proves his leadership abilities again, and again, and again, and there are logical reasons for all these six men to accept him as their leader. And even if that wasnt the case, again, wild west movies rewrite history, the director should be able to just give us a black leader without question lol.

The other minority characters fall into some tropes, which leaves a little to be desired, but not in a totally horrible way. Billy nearly crosses the line into model minority, stern silent Asian fighter stereotype but like he has so many badass scenes, its hard to be bothered by that too much. Also the movie makes it clear that Goody uses his white privilege to diffuse situations between racist assholes and Billy. The Mexican character is…well almost as flat as the white trapper character. He was charismatic and had a debonair sense of honor and definitely gave back as good as he got but theres not much for the actor to work with. I dont even remember the poor dude’s name. Same with the Comanche character, who is again used mostly as a foil for Sam, to show Sam’s sympathy for Native Americans and Sam’s ability to act as peacekeeper/leader even across cultures. It would have been great to see more of the native characters, and have them be less magical but honestly the representstion is leaps and bounds better than say that norman reedus flick “Sky” which was just plain embarrassing. This comanche character clearly has his own agenda and motivation, and he is given quite a few “woah!” fight moments. If anyone can find a good critique of the movie by a socially aware critic, I’d love to read it!

Oh, also the female roles were non existant but this falls under the LOTR type sexism where like…women arent really there much or relevant to the plot at all so you dont need to put blinkers on to watch it lol. Theres a throwaway female character and shes super beautiful and gets her crowning moment at the end but mostly shes just there to look pretty. They put her in the most impractical revealing outfits like lady if you are traveling across country on a horse under the hot desert sun dont wear a dress that exposes your shoulders and the tops of your breasts to sunburn lol. Kinda funny that they werent historically accurate with that but they did decide all the people doing the fighting had to be male becsuse men did war back then and women just hid under floorboards. Except the female lead becsuse shes Special.  lol. At least no one is gross or sexist to her, that was refreshing.

BASICALLY haha for someone like me who hates the politics of westerns but loves the aesthetics and the desert vistas and the adventure feel and the damn catchy music, this one feels like a breath of fresh air and i’d watch it ten times in a row like i did with the 3:10 to yuma remake when it came out haha.

[textsacc]

prompt: i write all these stupid love songs about you and then i tear them from my journal and hide them away in a box with your name on the lid. maybe one day you’ll hear them. (unsenttextsuggestion)

its cute how she thinks she can hide things from me, yozora thinks as she mulls over the contents of the box. there's a scatter of ripped paper around her on the floor as she rummages through more litter in the container. it's painted black and gold, with a crescent sticker stuck on its lid. her kashiwazaki overlord was never one to stand by marking things with subtly.

of course she would've noticed it. her eyes ran through words on scrap pieces. the prose -- it's cute. like, sickly sweet kind of cute. some of the words come off sharper and aggressive, but in them yozora can still see the tenderness, light and pure and radiant, just as similar to the owner of the notes herself. she snorts at one, trying not to notice her flushed complexion as she stuffs it back in the box. it wasnt the first time she'd seen them; sometimes she’d liken herself to visit them, when she needed a bit of self-love in the quiet and dreary afternoons, her ego stretched thin by her mind’s loathing behaviour. needless to say, this definitely wouldn't be her last, either. yozora had already found herself addicted to her companion’s love.

haste made for waste, yozora tells herself, collecting the scatter and putting them back where they’d belonged. she only had so much time before her secret admirer got back, after all. lovely, she imagines, unable to help herself from stopping the compliment slipping through as her friend's image naturally came to mind. box in two hands, a slide stores the blonde's secret collection away, tucked neatly in a shelf found underneath her bedroom’s window sill. yozora’s delicate work made it seem as untouched and unremoved as it originally appeared to be. now all she had to do was soothe her burning cheeks, and everything would return to normal.

*

it was almost unfair how sincere her lyrics were. each rip torn at the papers' seams were unexpectedly fortunate, the lines yozora would craft from shifting them around forming neatly, new poetry crafted from fragments of another. something told yozora that her instructions were premeditated, but her gut instinct told her otherwise; after all, sena would never be this careful, the bumbling beast.

stupid cute idiot, she thinks, revising her friend's script again. she would know where the pieces would go, if she tried to pay attention to them. ink bled through paper, and remnants remained on their edges, blotted and broken. but it was way more fun to piece the phrases together to create something dastardly new. when she found herself done, it would be like a cacophony of memories, of all the times sena went through the song writing process, coming up with words and dreams that yozora herself could never admit to sharing. a symphonious torture, yes, that was what it would become, and a mischievous warm smile made its way to her lips. she was only lucky that her carefulness had gotten her this far in the past -- now, though, as she copied the words one by one into her book, she would have all the time in the world to peruse them to her own delight.

*

to say that her plan made her face red was... an understatement, now, in another frame of mind. after running through her notes line by line, a project she’d tended to almost every evening by now, yozora was surprised she couldn't even look the blonde in the face anymore. shed always had a problem with eye contact, that much she found herself sure, but even the best of her tricks couldnt help her as she’d turn her eyes away, even from the vague sight of her friend.

"you're acting really weird lately," sena observes one night at dinner. yozora thinks its funny how she’s invited to eat with the family unlike their previous servants. sort of like a housewife. "is everything alright? you know you can tell me anything on your mind."

yozora refuses. it was much too personal for them and for her. "it's none of your business," and she bites her tongue before she could say 'meat', glancing carefully at her love’s father. pegasus was never fond of that nickname, even though she thought it suited her princess just fine. "--but thank you." of course, she had to observe her manners. "i appreciate the offer."

a useless whimper, the girl puffing up her cheeks in retaliation. yozora fought the urge to smile.

*

the most recent entry, the most recent scatter of paper. she couldnt seriously have wrote that, could she? yozora could hardly believe it.

earlier, she'd made the mistake of matching them as the author had intended, before mixing them into pile. and just entertaining the possibility of those four lines, intent after another, was enough to send her under the covers even hours later, when her eyes weren't focused on pieces ahead of her. so brash, so unrestrained. wanting. yearning. how bashful it reduced her to, as her mind hummed over the words again, a repetitive melody she couldn't simply get rid of. she was only lucky sena rested upstairs and fell asleep early before she could be bothered to hunt for the servant today, as yozora holed herself up in her own little room. she needed isolation, she decides, foreseeing herself blushing red again, with equal intensity in the future. 

if she was to continue her own project like this, she had to ensure more moments of privacy for herself.

*

no knocks, just the door opening. yozora counts her lucky stars (just one, and she was right in front of her) that she hadn't been singing just yet, merely playing a few chords. "i’m here to listen," sena announces, a cheeky smile on her face (too cute). her butler shifts her eyes away from the room's entrance, but scooches closer to the wall; a mistake, as it gives her friend some space on the bed to sit on.

"what're you playing?"

"nothing of importance," yozora shrugs off, not meeting sena's gaze, pretending to retune her instrument. she wondered if the girl would buy into her lie, turning the knob only slightly in her fib. but it didn't seem that way when she’d given her pet a good glance, the star’s brilliant beam shining back in her face.

yozora swallows a breath, looking up. "don't you have some studying to do? a game to get back to?"

"studying?"

the servant notices her momentary slip up, and for a moment yozora debates keeping herself still like a frightened animal. instead, she rolls her eyes, and that gets their conversation to pass over the mistake.

"ah, but the new title that came out earlier today--"

good. sena's attention had been grabbed. "it was just way shorter than i thought it was going to be! what a let down. and they didn't even include a cg for cecilia, but they put in two more for lisa?!"

the princess huffs and folds her arms. for a moment, yozora wondered how lovely it would be to pull her in close for comfort.

"oh no," she replied, resting on her guitar, words dripping with sarcasm. "its not like cecilia's the main character, or that she hasn’t been in any other title before or anything, thus having more screen time than any other character in the series." a miracle, it was, that she remembered the series elements at all.

"are you kidding me?"

her friend's eyes come alive with untold fury. yozora secretly wanted more. 

"that should give them more reason to put more scenes with her in it! being in several games shows exactly how much we the fans like her!" by the sheets, sena pulls her fingers into a fist. "those cowards! i’d already gone to their forums and gave them a piece of my mind, though!"

"and so you're here to bother me instead?"

so long as she herself was being cold, the servant figured, it would be in due time before her mistress would leave her undisturbed.

"of course! i wouldn't want to miss what my best friend was up to these days!"

ugh. best friend.

"sorry, i dont know who that is," yozora mocks, wrist flapped off-handedly. "maybe you should check another room, for once. you'll find someone there."

"that's so mean!" (the telltale pout from sena. what a look.) "why cant you just take the compliment i give you?"

"compliment?"

her sideways glance appears more sly and dark than she'd wanted it, but the facade was entirely calculated; so yozora wouldn't be caught under scrutiny blushing like a lovestruck schoolgirl. that sinister aura was to mask her fluster. "you talk like its a privilege to be your friend."

"it is one!"

"more like a burden. come see me after you've grown up enough to take care of yourself."

of course, her servitude had always been a sore spot for sena, on the account that she wouldn't be seen as independent enough in the household. no, she didn't need to be to begin with, but now there was a reason for the star to hold some guilt. because it was yozora behind those duties now.

"i can do it just fine, thank you very much."

"you say that but you sure aren't showing it, meat," the butler remarks with a straightened back, fingers flicking at her guitar's strings. a strum. "try that again when you've found something else to do."

it turns out to be enough.

with a "hmph" and a toss of her hair (a soft wave of starlight, so pretty) sena gets off the bed and leaves.

wonderful. it would've been a perfect exit, except she forgot to close the door behind her.

again.

not that yozora minded getting up and chasing her beloved’s footsteps to shut it.

*

so, that song. that rearranged poem of scraps abandoned and hidden and lost.

well.

singing it had proved almost too tough to bear.

no matter how yozora found herself rearranging the letters, folding her notes' pages in half in an attempted rewrite, the thought of her unlikely confession had always bubbled up in a swarm up in her chest, bursting painfully against her lungs. and in those moments of frustration, she'd wanted to scream to the world in one chorus of finality, a head-spinning moment where she'd forget all her admirer's intentions behind it, just so she could put her emotions past herself, and wave off the project for having completed it so.

she couldn't, of course, without actually performing the piece live in front of her. a recording would be too insincere, and living through those seconds again in an editor was a nightmare that yozora had opted to spare herself from. it had to be done live, she persuaded herself, even after rational convincing just prior minutes before. at any moment now, her mistress would--

--footsteps trailed towards the entrance. then, the door swung open.

the concert hall was but sena's bedroom, and the guitarist had been unprepared to perform for an audience of just one. of course, changed out from her butler's outfit, the blonde did wonder what her best friend, off-duty, was doing in her room.

"yozora? what--"

the fingers the girl had on her strings were slow in shifting, underlining the tautness within its player.

"i-i was getting ready for something," yozora replies, finally turning around to greet her listener with a reddened face. there was no way for the star to have missed the guitar in her hands, cradled in a comforting hold in the girl's arms, and her digits never leaves its surface when she gestures towards the corridor using a shift of her head. "close the door behind you. i-it's not like this was meant for anybody else..."

in absolute curiosity and confusion, sena complied.

there had been a small space in her mistress' bedroom where a beanbag had been set aside. and though yozora often frequented it during her short breaks or moments of respite with her friend, so too would sena take advantage of its cushion just once, the duo shifting from the center of the room over to an open corner.

"o-okay, so what's this about...?"

"w-well, i..."

it was in a stammer that the vocalist lost her words. and in duress, she defaulted to some lines familiar, lines that would put her back into gear with the delivery of her performance.

after all, she couldn't afford to be worried about her lyrics, stolen as they were sorted through. not now.

"s-shut up and listen."

a gentle chord. fumbling of fingers on nylon, and a pacing of steps against the carpet, on the spot.

with one short breath, yozora parts her lips and allows the melody to flow through her, keeping her gaze shortsighted. vision blurred, the world spinning; it was how she imagined the leak of her emotions to feel, the room growing warmer with each sway of her torso, each swing of her head to one corner, then the next. her heart and her tempo were racing in unequal measures, the girl drawing out each line, keeping in mind to uphold the adagio of a ballad. 

and all the while, she didn’t have to wonder if she was the only one burning up in embarassment. body language was all the performer needed to read with her star kept within sight; raised cheeks, lips hidden behind a fold of her palm, each major fidget was enough of a signal to yozora that, at the very least, her audience was captivated.

for those few minutes, the girl decides, that was all she had to be.

she doesn’t trip up on her lines as she once expected from herself. there’s something in her performance she falls back upon, hours of practice culminated in a single moment, supporting each harmonious line, every tremble of her chords in her throat as she forces notes through second by second. it gets easier the further she performs, and the moon finds herself smiling after a minute, somehow registering the majesty of her craft while she’s delivering it to its intended receipient. it’s cute. like, a sickly sweet kind of cute. her love nearly overflows as she churns out the lyrics, slow, smooth and simple, bubbles of joy tucked away at the back of her mouth, near threatening to rise and take over her words as giggles had she chosen to stop. that realization of how silly, how foolish, how honest and vulnerable her song and dance was making her-- it could’ve swallowed her up whole in midst of her performance.

but yozora is made of tougher material, and with a gentle tap and piviot of her feet upon wool, she stops, with one final hum and a prayer for her success behind closed eyes. there’s nothing but the sound of her guitar strings reverberating in the air for a few seconds; it’s only when the wait for a response gets too much to bear that the girl opens her eyes, to finally put sena into focus, sena, right, the love she was confessing to, the one she couldn’t pay attention to this whole time--

the world stops for a moment when their eyes meet, faces awash with crimson and heat. neither of them move, still as statues save for a couple of blinks. yozora is out of words -- she’d already used all of them in the song, eaten up every other resource of her brain to keep herself functioning in that heart-pounding, adrenaline-rushed moment -- and her grip relaxing on her instrument is a beckon for her other to say something, something.

her response comes in a lean backwards, into the bean bag, bloating it up to hold her when yozora can’t. there is a mix of fear, shock, joy and anger all at once in those eyes, eyes that the girl can’t help but continue looking into, despite the fact that she’d wanted so desperately to look away in that moment, just as she often did in most others. the words take sena another moment to form, and they trickle out as a whisper, “when... when did you find them?”

and the guitarist didn’t need to be asked twice about the star’s secret stash. “i’ve known of it for a while,” she replies, finally tearing her eyes off her admirer. there’s something lodged in her throat as she continues to speak, yozora trying not to stutter over her words. “h-honestly, you should try to hide that box better. it was easy to find it while i was cleaning up your room, you know?”

“the-- the curtains should’ve hid it...” 

a low murmur, one that yozora barely catches. when sena rises, takes a few step to draw close to her servant, that drum beat grows louder in the performer’s ears. she spots a wavering frown from the blonde and a burning visage to match. delicate fingers, fragile and soft rest on the woodwork of the guitar, and they nearly meet yozora’s tight grips. she fights to steady her breathing, just as she sees her star struggling to justify her sudden approach.

“a-anyway, y-you sung them all wrong...! i-i honestly don’t know how you managed to jumble them up so bad, a-and the melody’s completely off-- the line delivery and everything--”

there was a part of yozora that had wanted to argue back, mention the amount of effort that she’d spent piecing together the broken puzzle pieces, solving a jigsaw that didn’t need to be solved. and on most days, in most circumstances, she would’ve opted for such a retort. but the graze of skin against her own and the trembles, the quaking from her mistress -- was sena offering to deliver the songs in their most primal nature, as she had originally intended? 

that clamouring for her guitar seemed to be telling. it’s nearly violent the way yozora thrusts the part of entertainer onto her confessed, restraint audible from the way she hisses out her challenge, trying not to trip on language, “t-then you show me, i-if you want to pick at my creative genius that much.”

“m-mm,” sena responds, taking the instrument in tow, agitation simmering down to a quiet. “j-just watch.”

yozora shifts, retreats, almost hastens her steps as she makes her way to the throne of the audience. and sena checks the scale on the instrument, humming anxiously and pacing on the spot --

the moon wonders, after taking her seat, if that had been exactly how she’d looked just a few moments ago. she contemplates this while avoiding bringing to light that memory itself, leaning forward, watching her other prepare herself.

she doesn’t have expectations, didn’t come in with any the moment she stepped into the room. but listening to her star’s opening lines, it was difficult to say that yozora had been entranced by the confession. sure, a poet her mistress might’ve been, pen marked on paper, but when vocalized paired with a shaken melody, something felt off about the performance. in a way that was telling it needed refinement. in the same way her mistress had always been raw, pure, unabashedly passionate.

it takes the girl everything just to stop herself from laughing, realizing the truth of that adorable personality shining through against all things.

the way her angel, too, had opted to block out the world with a shut of her eyelids. static movements where yozora herself had gone with the flow, felt free -- no doubt lived in her head that it was like watching an amateur’s performance right before their debut, but even then she couldn’t fault her star for her unbridledness. it had been in the spur of the moment that she decided to forge an act together, after all. and line by line, yozora starts to put the pieces together once again, in a different order this time, each keynote with its phrase once disassembled now under reorganization in her memory as she listens. against her fingertips, she feels it, the soft texture of ripped edges worn from handling. a smile graces her face as she tunes in.

though her amusement had subsided, her embarassment -- and heartwarmth -- had not.

only when the last of the songs were complete did it strike yozora as odd, how they practically traded confessions and left themselves devoid of proper confirmation, of responses. it was enough for her expression to wry, eyes trying to match her near-lover’s own if only to convey this perplexity in the moment. when sena finally resumes her sights, yozora makes deer caught in headlights out of her.

“m-meat...”

“w-wh-what is it? j-just so you know, i-i’m not performing them again...”

the star might as well have been the sun by now, glowing so bright with feelings said -- yet bond unconfirmed. she breaks their matching gazes, throwing her own to the side, clutching the guitar with noticable effort in her embarassment. it almost brings yozora to smile again, as she rises, pacing forward; that instrument was hers, and she was to collect it, but she had something else she’d wanted to see if she could retrieve in that moment.

footsteps slow to a shuffle. folded arms. her heated visage was only reflecting her centerfold. 

“y-your delivery could use some work, in my opinion.”

“h-huh?”

“b-but more importantly,” yozora hurries, and puts her hands on sena’s, if only to stop the rebuttals she knows would follow had she hesitated. their traded fevers only worked to dizzy the girl moreso than she already felt faint, the servant taking steady breaths in lieu of her mistress’ fraying composure. “-- t-that just means...”

“-- ...”

“...”

though a silence persisted between them, it was past a few seconds that sena nods, pulling her gaze up from the carpet. a hum. 

“y-yeah. i... i love you too, yozora.”

now it’s the moon’s turn to tremble, finally falling, humbled by her beloved careful and precious words.

“... i-- i love you too. ...meat.”

[dykedykegooses]

i'm askin u every single even numbered question for the lesbian ask game

at least you didnt bother with the algebra this time, for which i am thankful

Femme or butch?

i’m more femme but i try to act butch sometimes and i just end up failing hopelessly. ‘look mom i know how to put air in a tire!!’ ‘peyton thats like… not even right’ or ‘oh SHIT look at that blitz!! that was cool’ ‘peyton that was a sack’ ‘oh’

Do you have a “type”? If so, describe it

not really, mostly just like… humor. if u funny we click

Plaid button-ups or leather jackets?

why not both?

no but seriously plaid tbh

Describe your style

um yes

converse, (ripped? sometimes) jeans, and whatever top i feel is appropriate for the Big Aesthetic today

Describe your aesthetic

yes

ive tried going more punk but its just kinda , not worked

my physical aesthetic is very adultolescent. i got chub and look like a freshman but ive been told i pass as a college senior so like

my Big Mood aesthetic is yes

Favorite article of clothing?

either my converse or my “”combat boots”” (theyre not and it makes me sound like an edgelord just saying that) (can you tell im gay)

OH WAIT I FORGOT ABOUT MY JEAN JACKET its like baggy and light and ive started sewing patches from my favorite bands on it (super punk right)

Favorite pair of shoes?

^^^

oh my black strappy heels, theyre surprisingly comfortable

Current haircut?

ive got a bleached bob rn

Any haircut goals for the future?

i kinda want a pixie cut bc i cant handle long hair however long hair is so PRETTY and wow

Describe the best date you’ve been on

iiiiiiiiii dont really know. ive been on very few. i have a Perfect Date in mind, and i guess my favorite was my first date with my ex. we had gotten back from a successful science competition (HAVE I MADE IT OBVIOUS IM A NERD YET IM A BIG OL NERD) and it was like midnight by the time we got back and we were both starving so we went to taco bell and just sat there talking and laughing and i know we were pissing off the staff, but we stayed til like two in the morning and we went home and honestly we both considered it a date but we didnt like… tell each other it was a date? if that makes sense? idk honestly im triggered

Describe the worst date you’ve been on

ugh oh god i went on a tinder date and this girl like in the DMs was like ‘hey do u smoke weed’ and im like ‘lol no’ and then like we made plans to meet up at a coffee shop and she asks me AGAIN if i smoke weed and im like……………. no and shes like ‘oh right lol’ well THIS BITCH sleeps through the time we were supposed to meet, completely stands me up, and then texts me back like an hour later and was like ‘omg im sorry i overslept!!!’ and it was like….. noon but ok so we meet up after my class and we just sit there really awkwardly trying to make conversation and she asks me AGAIN if i smoke weed im like ‘honey no i dont’ and we just talked about drugs for a while and when i left because i had to gtfo she like gave me an awkward hug and like i sent a text later that night bc im courteous and im like ‘hey i had a great time today’ (i didnt) ‘lmk if you ever want to meet up again!!’ and she just. ignored me lol.

Single? Taken?

im currently in a polyamorous relationship with myself and my anxiety

If taken, talk about your girlfriend/wife!

:)

If single, what are you looking for in a potential girlfriend/wife?

someone who’s able to make me laugh and deal with my bad ideas and will let me cook for her and wants to travel the world with me

Describe your dream wedding

its small. outside. maybe in a field or in front of a lake. i dont personally want a big ballgown, just a short white dress will do. lavenders everywhere. R A I N B O W  C A K E. reception where we slow dance to all the sappy romance songs. its great.

Do you want kids?

not really, but ive considered being a foster parent. i feel like im here to do good; i don’t want to have my own biological children, and im not sure i want to have the permanent responsibility of adopting a kid, but i feel i could handle fostering once we’re financially stable and have the room to accept children into our home.

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?

spain, definitely. somewhere in the north. i want to have a small farm with goats and chickens and vegetables and i want to be away from this american mess.

Favorite lesbian movie?

well ysee…………. the only two explicitly lesbian movies ive seen have been ‘all about E’ and ‘blue is the warmest color’ and i didnt like either of the lmfaoooo i prefer watching lesbian television shows tbqh (or, most commonly, just rewriting all the female characters in my head to be sapphic sooooooo dont @ me)

Favorite lesbian novel/story?

i mean same as above, i dont read as much as i like to. however, i did read “georgia peaches and other forbidden fruit” and that was Really Good and i did read another that was slightly better, but i forget the name but it was about a pakistani (?) girl who was struggling to come out to her parents bc they were very traditionalist but she joins the theater and her like really elite school and the girl she had a crush on basically outs her and is a bitch about it and GOD i wish i could remember it because it was really good

Favorite lesbian song?

ummmmmmmmmmmm i just recently listened to ‘honey’ by kehlani and that was pretty good and pretty gay, but my personal favorite is ‘girls’ by beatrice eli bc holy shit what a Mood

Favorite lesbian musician?

i love mary lambert and beatrice eli.

What lesbian stereotypes do you fit into, if any?

ummmmm now that im thinking of them i cant think of any. i used to play softball and soccer? i love cats. i immediately start planning out the next five years of our lives together anytime im remotely interested in a girl?

Ever been assumed to be nothing more than a gal pal?

i mean………………. no

If a woman wanted to woo you, what would a surefire way to accomplish that?

well bake cookies w me and lets go for a walk & go out and watch the stars at night in the bed of a truck

Be positive! What do you like most about being a lesbian?

I LOVE LOVING GIRLS!!!!!! I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT BEING A LESBIAN!!!!!! GIRLS ARE FANTASTIC!!!!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!

Are you more of a cat person or a dog person?

why not both

idk ive never had a cat but i know i lov them

Turn ons?

i.......... dont know

yes

im gay

Turn offs?

long nails youch theyre pretty to look at but i mean at what price

not having anything to talk about

putting yourself down like a lot (i went on a date w this one girl and that was all she did like the entire date like......... im sorry ? :(???)

Do you usually ask other women out or do you wait for them to ask you?

if im being honest i would love for someone to ask me out but since that is Very Unlikely, i tend to be the one to message first and initiate dates and stuff

What is your dream career?

i want to be a psychological researcher in the field of social comparative psychology how sick is that!!!!! just play with dogs all day and record whether or not they boop their noses on a screen

also i wanna be a farmer and a bookstore owner but thats Farther down the line like , when im 50

Talk about your interests or hobbies!

im honestly such a psych nerd i love psychology what the fuck!! its so interesting like ppl are weird man idk brains are weird

im also having a really big green day phase like billie .. he so smol... and also anyone who wants to bash warning or the trilogy can fight me ok those are like My Favorite Albums

im going to a concert in february to see declan mckenna, a Giant Meme

im getting a tattoo w some lyrics of declan’s actually its gonna be sick

What is the most attractive quality a woman can have?

yes

idk for me its being able to have quick, witty, skillful jokes i just love listening to girls talk and tell stories and jokes like wow im gay

also long curly hair? thats always a Solid Look

Do you love easily or does it take time for you to warm up to someone?

i mean. do we really wanna open this can of worms rn

too late, its open

i get those microcrushes where you like see a girl and youre like ‘WOW IM GAY DATE ME’ however once it comes to actually being in a relationship i throw my full weight behind it and worry that im being too suffocating or that im pushing my boundaries etc and ive been told that makes me come off really cold and uncaring so lol choose ur own adventure, you decide

Ever fallen for your best-friend?

unfortunately

Ever fallen for a straight girl?

can you even call yourself a lesbian if you havent

The L-Word: yes or no? (love it or hate it?)

i havent seen it, im such a fake lesbian

Favorite comfort food?

mac n cheese

or pizza

or cheesy potatos

OR CHEESY TOAST

scientific conclusion: im a fatass

Coffee or tea?

coffer

Vegetarian? Vegan? None of the above?

im vegetarian!! have been on and off for like two years now

Do you have any pets?

i have one pup sittin right next to me and shes the prettiest girl in the world

Early-riser or night-owl?

yes

idk i get up at like 9 which is early for me but not as early as like. 5. so

more like night-owl. thanks teenage hormones!

What is your sign?

pisces

Can you drive?

yes

can i drive well?

no

but i do have a sense of direction so thats cool

Who was your first lesbian crush?

tbh.................... my best friend, but i didnt realize it was a crush at the time

the first Gay Crush i had that i knew was a crush was on my close friend at the time, now my ex girlfriend

At what age did you know you were a lesbian?

uhhhhhhhhhh lesbian specifically, like 15-16. queer, i knew in like fall semester freshman year (so like 13??)

At what age did you come out (if you have)?

i mean, i come out to people all the time. first time i came out explicitly as a lesbian was when i was like 15 or 16 (actually i came out to a close straight friend and my ex and they both said ‘congrats’ like it was weird but very nice) and the first time i came out as queer/questioning was to my then-best friend at like 13 and i came out to my mom (involuntarily) at like 17? ish?

Are you crushing on anyone at the moment (celebrity or otherwise)?

yes im crushing on every girl simultaneously at all times

just kidding

(not really)

i dont really have any explicit crushes that i can think of im just really gay

Talk about how your day went

it was fine. got free froyo so that was cool. found out i made an A on my bio practical, so that was cool too. however, i wore a crop top and it was like 55 degrees out and raining so i looked like a total Idiot but yk follow ur slutty gay dreams amiright ladies

Talk about your dreams/aspirations for the future

most of mine are career-centric, but a few are personal.

i wanna go to costa rica in may, i wanna go to yale over the summer, i wanna go to NYC pride in june, i wanna go to spain after i graduate, i wanna go to grad school, i wanna be a psychological researcher, i wanna move to spain or england or hell even france, i wanna have my own farm with the woman i love, i wanna own an LGBT bookstore/library, i wanna just live a quiet life near the sea and not have to worry so much after a while.

Least favorite gay celebrity?

this is a weird one to end on, but iiiiiiim not sure i have one? i can tell you ellen page is probably my favorite, but i cant think of many i dislike so