#and i have frivolous bullshit that i need to buy

[existennialmemes]

Well hello there, Shiny Thing I Can't Afford. Welcome to my Open Tabs Graveyard.

You wait here. I'm probably not coming back.

#shitpost #shitposting #neurodivergent memes #why is everything so expensive #seriously it's #Halloween #season #and i have frivolous bullshit that i need to buy

[bomberqueen17]

everything is ads

i was just complaining about this on a discord i’m a member of. (discord is. sigh. what is it. well it’s not the public internet. it’s not a substitute for social media. but it’s something. the incalculable harm done to fannish community by having so much of the active discussion now silo’d in these private, unsearchable servers is hard to state, but it’s a necessary retreat given that all the platforms keep proving themselves to be garbage. A N Y W A Y i had a thing i was gonna say.)

You are interested in an art form, or hobby. so you look it up on the internet. you find a creator who does the thing you like, and you follow them, probably on instagram currently. Their instagram has frequent posts about their art, which is great. Sometimes you can learn some techniques from them. But then they want to sell you courses in how to learn it. Of course they need to monetize, but it’s a bit off-putting; you just want to do this for a hobby, and want to learn how, and to have to pay to take a course in it is sort of beyond your means for this kind of thing.

And then like... half the posts are unboxings.They bought art supplies, which they are going to review for you. Here’s a haul video, which isn’t really even a review so much as it is just showing off each of these products. As they put them away, you can see that their storage is stuffed full of more and more unused stuff from all the previous haul videos and unboxings. Where are they putting all this? When are they using it? How much money are they spending on it?? Yes there’s an affiliate code if you want to buy one too, there’s a discount if you use it. Help a creator out. Support a small business!

I’m happy to support small businesses and I do like supporting independent creators but uh like... that’s... you wind up so inured to this constant buying of new stuff, and yes you can get a lil dopamine hit from shopping but my god, no. No. It is not harmless and it is not innocuous, when you are being constantly bombarded with this normalization of constant consumption.

(I have a fraught relationship with buying things. My ADHD Or Whatever It Is really likes the shiny new, but I have been broke most of my life, and my inability to do math makes me alternately over-conservative and reckless with money. I have had years where I spent almost everything I earned on frivolous bullshit. i have had years where I spent nothing that wasn’t on food or gasoline, and wore clothes with holes in them that didn’t fit and just made do and just lived smaller and smaller. This is a constant, ongoing problem, and watching a creator I admire unbox her new purchases of random shit literally twice a week does not help me untangle it, and that’s just one of the people I follow, seriously how does this person have the money to just keep buying more stuff.)

I know that the underlying problem is capitalism, specifically the current hyperconcentrated strain of it we have that means that the middle class basically doesn’t exist. When I was growing up, an author could make a reasonable career in the mid-list, putting out a book every year or two and living off the advance on the next one while the previous one earned out, and after a couple decades you could retire on the residuals. But by the time I was old enough to pursue a career, that line of work was dead; now you’re either a superstar or you’re grinding out two or more novels a year to make poverty wages if you’re lucky, and doing all of your own marketing too on top of it. Every industry has gone that route; anything remotely creative, there’s now no outlet for except hustling as a Content Creator on the Internet. You gotta have a little Etsy or a shopify, you gotta have a Patreon and make that worthwhile somehow. instagram wants a reel every day, you gotta game that algorithm for exposure, teach yourself video marketing on top of whatever it is you actually like. You can’t just work your undemanding civil service job and make extremely detailed tutorial pages in your evenings and weekends because you don’t have evenings and weekends anymore and every hobby has to become a slave to the grind.

So I’m not mad at the creators, I’m not mad at the people forced to hustle. I’m just so tired. The solution has to be systemic; yelling at the content creators isn’t going to fix anything. We need higher wages, we need better labor protections-- I know that’s unsexy and not a good slogan for anything but believe me, that is the bottom line here.

IDK I don’t have a punchline. I guess I want to gently encourage y’all to practice non-consumption as self-care. Be aware of that side effect of constantly being bombarded with ads, where you just sort of absorb this feeling that it’s normal to constantly be buying things.

I’m not saying don’t click on your little indie creators’ ads. I’m just saying remember that everything is ads. [Just this week I bought deodorant from an Instagram ad because the girl selling it was hot, I am not immune. I know fine well what I did. Listen I needed more deodorant anyway and I don’t find very many people hot so it was notable.]

And, bringing it around to be immediately topical, when we say don’t interact with corporate accounts here on Tumblr, we mean corporate. Don’t hate the tiny hustlers. This is maybe the only platform where they can still have any kind of meaningful reach. All the others have realized that you can make businesses pay to not be hidden, and if they don’t ransom themselves, you can hide them from their friends and customers, but Tumblr hasn’t hit that yet. That’s the real origin of the Instafluencer-- the actual brands’ ability to market directly is limited, so they have to find people to shill for them.

You can block ads. But when your favorite creator is shilling, you can’t block that without losing the parts you like too. it’s so fucking insidious.

#advertisements #shopping season #consumption #about the author #advertising #pernicious influences of influencers

[homunculus-argument]

everyone better hope I never have to have a leg amputated, because if I ever end up needing a prosthetic leg and can still afford to buy frivolous bullshit, y'all bet I want a leg that ends in one of those fancy gilded lion's paw foot things that they have on old fancy furniture. That shit would be so cool.

#for the sake of clarity #I'm not a furry just deranged

[izartn]

Thinking about the setting of CFC again, and I know I said on my first post after reading the book that Meatbun should have just gone urban fantasy to get her kick with the more out there elements more plausibly, the scifi plot elements were the weakest on the book but...

You can tell she really wanted to go full on scifi, bc thinking about it, I think going full on 100-200 years on the future with he technology (no aliens or space travel super avaible except for like, maybe the moon or Mars) would have really aided both what she wanted to explore re:technology and the ways we use and abuse it, and her commentary on arts and fictional worlds.

Plus the pseudo superpowered He Yu and Xie Qingcheng and their resulting mental illness and infection by RN-13 would have fit better; maybe even targeting the way humanity has started to openly play with modifying genes and neuroplasticity.

Mandela as an ideology widespread and having to fight it. Making the matrix plan much more scary and plausible.

Like. The distopian sci-fi film noir of it all would have fit like a glove to what she's trying to do in the novel, and to her protags.

Come on, distopian scifi serves to amplify the worst and the best the same way historical fantasy does, and Meatbun loves to go to extremes from what we've read of her.

He Yu being raised by robot nannies that he loves until he realises/is explained they're just unfeeling programs and getting a bit of that real human connection with Xie Qingcheng? Poor wire monkey kid.

Realising "nobody" "real" cares for him would hit weirder here, if not harder. Getting a complex about having to program his own behaviour if he wants to fit and be loved by others! Pushing himself to master coding (he's a hacker in canon! Tie that even tighter to setting and plot and his emotional journey dammit), almost falling but then ruthlessly dismissing the false fantasies created by technology! In the way he does by the end of the book but hitting harder in this setting bc that unreality it's an element that's been there from the beginning.

He Yu having to deal with his hallucinations when he's on his lower moments in this version would also be even more also even more oomph, given people giving in to the technological ghosts would be something he's used to seeing. And then realising his own brain is creating that trap when he thought he was above deluding himself. Like he does in canon but you know. Tying it with the plot and setting better, which makes it hit harder.

You also just know the elite He Yu is born feom are on some hunger games almost capitol bullshit. HY deciding to study cinematography and arts in this kind of culture. Meatbun ripping apart the abuse of AI, tying in with her criticism of the lower common denominator re:fluffy simple stories.

Compare that to a Xie Chengqing even more determined that science has everything studied about human behaviour and emotions are just silly hormones that can robe one of control. At the same time rejecting the frivolous use of technology; finding unsuspecting common ground with He Yu despite it all. Mmm. His brand of condescending old fashioned machismo and general internalised homophobia (and He Yu's if we're talking about it) (although in He Yu case it could just be denial of XQC in specific though which would be hilarous/sad considering. all of the story) would be maybe more difficult to translate but honestly humanity is such a shit show that I would buy we having regressed and then progressed again on the human rights front. Anyway it's more about his unhealthy repression, controlling tendencies, and trying to be good at being human by societal standards, for his sister and master/prpfessor/adopted father. That can be explored perfectly on this setting regardless.

Maybe it's the aftermath of a conflict and that's why people are so crazy about Mandela! Collective trauma around incomprehensible loss. Human nature at his most basic need for love and companionship vs survival, like Meatbun likes.

The more I think about this the more I like it. Mmm. Did censure prevent Meatbun of going all out with the scifi? Because it really really fits.

#bing an ben #case file compendium #cfc meta #meta #he yu #xie chengqing #my thoughts #hexie #give me hexie or give me death #XQC smoking old fashioned cigarettes hitting harder when vapers or other forms of benevolent drugging and killing oneself are in fashion #choosing the honesty of the slow self destruction inherited from the old man who saved and gave purpose to his life before dying #the deliberatedness of it in that unconscious way of xqg #where he knows exactly what he's doing without thinking about what he's doing #he yu trying to programmed a false XQC at the heights of his most unhinged obssesed moments and destruying it all in fury bc #it not the same #the warmth of that skin the cold on his eyes the rare unguarded fletting moments of fondness #human actors being compared to holograms #He Yu being his most messy authentic self full on an emotional mess contested even more sharply against this superficial technological WORLD #pulling Xie Qingcheng to that same raw honesty bit by bit hurt by hurt and kindness by kindness #as painstakingly as in canon for both of them #GAH

[fromfaewithlove]

Im absolutely over all “glow up” advice and products it’s all fake bullshit. Just random people cosplaying as glamorous geniuses for 60 seconds in a stupid over filtered video. If they aren’t selling you a product you don’t need then, they usually aren’t saying anything new.

Literally they just smize into their phone cameras and use far too many words to tell you to bathe, eat a balanced diet, workout, be fiscally self aware (but still buy their brand deal products!!!) and read self help books (buy them!!! don’t go to your library you have to buy them and fix yourself now!!!). Nothing they say or advertise is about sustainability!

Like when I was significantly more lost earlier in my 20s these videos didn’t help me they actually hurt me. I was just endlessly scrolling watching these people whose lives seemed perfect for 20 seconds at a time and feeling like shit about myself for being too burnt out to be like them. Everyone is on their own process on their own timeline.

Like yes TikTok got me to go to the gym it was positive to see so many women leaning into weightlifting but following TikTok fitness advice is what got me injured and made it so hard to focus on holistic health instead of *body goals* also it made me feel like fitness could only happen and be valid if I bought some expensive outfit and paid for a pricey gym membership.

The best thing for my mental health and emotional maturity was getting off of all shallow and frivolous social medias that are just about showing off how hot and smart you can posture as and actually finding community and platforms that fit my life needs and aspirations.

#sorry my Pinterest is ruined cuz it’s January #I saw a really dumb post and needed to vent

[thefeministandthefairytale]

DEATH TO BARBIE

I’m menopausal y’all. Giddyup. 

Currently there is medication in my body that is mimicking menopause, shortly I’ll have my ovaries removed and there will be no turning back. I’ve been thrust into the word of sore muscles, migraines, lethargy, drowsiness, nausea, and dealing with dude doctors telling me how to handle my shit. 

Part of me is enamoured with this process. Mostly the fact that I’m literally scheduling this event that some women wonder for years if they’re even approaching. I get to research all of the bits and pieces of what to expect, how to engage in hormone replacement therapy, what hippie bullshit will make it feel more manageable. 

Menopause for lots of women, from what I’ve read, triggers something in our brains that shifts the way we think, how we prioritize. 

What the fuck am I doing with my life? My time? My money? My attention? And more importantly do my outsides match my insides. Above all I value integrity, so when I’m putting something out into the world that doesn’t align with my values, I feel crooked. 

Lately I feel extreme frivolity when I spend money on my appearance, and I know that my money would serve a better purpose for other things in my life. Other necessities, and planning for my future. I’ve wondered whose purpose it’s serving for me to maintain this blonde hair and painting concealer over my dark undereye circles. 

I grew up believing I had to earn love. This led to trying to prove my worth in ways that I could control. Always the hustle to do more and be more, to prove to my parents, and ultimately to myself that I was good enough. Dr. Northrup writes, “when your working belief about yourself is that you have to earn love - earn it both by overacheiving in your own life and by rescuing someone from the pain of their own - then you will attract a person that reflects those beliefs back to you”. 

As I walk through this menopause gong show, I will honour what my body needs, I will not continue buying into the masks I’ve kept up for so long to be a more acceptable and loveable version of myself. I will invest in things that make me feel aligned, things that allow me to explore what brings me true joy. No more hair dye, no more makeup, no more clothes. Just me. 

My time here is finite. No one’s going to care about the bags under my eyes or if my roots are showing at the end. Least of all me. What a fucking freedom. 

#feminism #creative writing #menopause #text post #my single 365 #single life #self care #radical self love #self esteem #growth

[walkingwhilebl4ck]

5/21/2022 || 7:32pm

Hey there,

Another entry like promised on the last post. I just wanted to type out my thoughts about my family situation right now, I hope someone can see where I'm coming from.

My dads side of the family never treated me as part of the family, but rather the result of an abusive relationship that they chose to ignore. Whenever I come around, they don't care to make conversation with me from when I was a preteen to now. They aren't interested in how I'm doing, what I'm doing, where I'm going, nothing. If anything, it feels like they view any sort of conversation with me as awkward or uncomfortable and its blatantly obvious they really didn't care to have whatever frivolous conversation I was trying to have with them. Even when I was being abused by my mother growing up, even when I told them what was going on, they treated it as gossip and didn't care to help a broken child who was crying out for someone to see them.

Last year, my cousin was having a wedding that I had no knowledge of. My mom came into my room to tell me that I hadn't even been invited to it, let alone was invited to come with everyone to help with preparations. I didn't even know he was married up until that point. They excluded my sister as well, who is more outgoing than me, and she made a fuss about it. Then I got calls for the FIRST TIME IN YEARS from anymore on that side of the family to tell me that 'they saved a seat for me' and that 'I was important to them, they would never purposefully not invite me to something so special for the entire family'. I wasn't buying it, besides my cousin(s) and I are virtually strangers to each other past the brief moments I saw them during the holidays. So I sugar coated how I felt and was honest, I told them that I didn't even know he was getting married and that my sister, mom, and my grandmother on my moms side were the ones who were angry on my behalf. I told them that I couldn't say that I wasn't a little hurt, but it was really no big deal, my cousin can invite/not invite anyone that he wanted to and that I will try to attend the after party. I didn't. After those calls, I realized that I just wasn't apart of the picture when it came to my dads side of the family, they didn't even care to talk to me growing up, so what difference will a wedding make?

After I tried to reach out to my other cousins to say happy birthday and got ignored by everyone, I just stopped trying to interact with them all together. It sucks, but I can't make people like me or see me as a family member. I talked to my half brother and he shared the same sentiment, its like us three kids are practically alienated from their side of the family.

I wonder if they ever think as to why they haven't heard from me in years... Would I even want to talk to them if they reached out to me? What would I even say...? If I ever actually voiced any of these thoughts to them, specifically those who I've felt wronged by, then I'd probably get a bunch of fluffy bullshit answers. I'm tired of running for them when they won't/wouldn't walk for me. I think I would be angry, they have had more than almost two decades to say anything to me, why would interacting with me matter now?

Sorry for the trauma dump, I just needed to get my thoughts out. I'm going to go now.

Stay safe,

Ox

#my diary #diary #journaling #virtual diary #my writing

[daily911]

The copaganda (propaganda in favor of cops) in that episode was awful.

The show positions all the arguments that Jeffrey makes as frivolous technicalities that are preventing Justice from happening and it is bullshit. 

It would be really fucking wonderful if cops needed a warrant for all kinds of stuff so you can have some level of privacy that can’t be destroyed whenever some cop feels like it.

It would be really fucking amazing to know when cops have a pattern and practice of breaking the rules and use that to establish the fact that they’re fucking liars. They do it all the time, on the stand and off, and we deserve to know.

It would be absolutely fucking fantastic if cops couldn’t assault someone and face no consequences because they say their use of force was justified and they just happened to have forgotten to turn their body camera on. I assume the benefits of such a rule are self explanatory.

The show wants you to remember the scene where Athena, a character you like and trust, justifies her actions so that when a real life cop or prosecutor makes the exact same excuses you are more likely to buy their shit.

Absolutely do not buy that shit.

#911 #911 fox #911 spoilers #5.01 #copaganda #meta #i would love to be giffing the episode but instead i'm trying to string #together a thought at 530 bc im worried no one else will #someone be more articulate and detail the other problems with the scene #also what is with these shows and demonizing public defenders #from law and order to brooklyn nine nine #copaganda shows love that shit #ok i edited this at work #d911

[canarycontessa]

in no particular order, things I've learned having PCOS

1.  Root cause, root causes, ROOT CAUSES. 

Do you know what the course of treatment looks like if you don't address root causes? It looks like a bandaid for each individual symptom: progesterone to "jumpstart" your hormones (which you can only take for a few months before it starts fucking with your bones), metformin for your insulin issues, electrolysis or waxing for your facial hair, etc. 

NONE OF WHICH gets down to root causes or is in any way approaching a permanent solution (with the possible exception of laser hair removal or electrolysis). 

I’m not knocking these things; if they help in any way and fit your course of action, go for it. But these things are not a cure. There is no formal cure for PCOS, but the thing that puts it in a kind of remission is a complete sea change in terms of how you eat, sleep, exercise, and just generally live your life. Everything from the eggs you buy to the type of pads you use is up for reevaluation.

2.  Exercise does not (directly) affect fat loss, only muscle gain, body comp and hormone regulation. Know it’s benefits and its limits in your regimen. Or, you cannot out-exercise a poor diet. 

Your particular relationship to the scale is something you need to nail down and fast. If you know you’re obsessive and prone to daily weighing, get rid of the scale entirely. If you like tracking yourself week to week, go ahead. Either way, please know that your progress wrt: diet and exercise aren’t always going to be reflected on the scale. 

Unless you’re doing some sort of bodybuilder bulking/cutting thing, then you’re typically going to lose fat WHILE gaining muscle if you have a sensible plan. This can translate to looking better and losing inches while staying the same or even going up on the scale. Don’t be fooled. 

All of this goes for everybody, really, but it goes double and triple for people with PCOS. Get the “calories in/calories out” mindset out of your head. Focus on your hormonal balance. Go by how your clothes fit, how you look naked, how you feel when you move, the feats you become capable of that you weren’t before.  

3.  Your desires are not shallow. No, not even your "shallow" ones. Wanting to look good naked, wanting to not have stubble or hyperpigmentation, and wanting a sex drive that’s more on-point is just as valid as wanting to have a baby or wanting to prevent your prediabetes from becoming full blown diabetes. Period. No buts. I said what I said. And if anyone tells you otherwise or tries to make these things seem frivolous? 

Tune them the fuck out. 

You’re the one who has to live with this disorder, not them, so they can fuck right off. Yes, even your doctor or your mother or your boyfriend or your minister or whoever the fuck. Yes, even other people with PCOS. 

I say this as someone who never has and never will want children, and is more concerned with preserving my health and beauty well into my middle age than I am with fertility. I’m not curing cancer, but neither is any broad that wants to get knocked up. 

We each want what we want. Let’s leave each other to our own wants, shall we?

4.  There's a limit to what a doctor can (or sometimes is even willing) to do for you here, so you have to take the wheel. Remember what I said about band aids? Unless you go to an endocrinologist or someone who specializes in hormonal/reproductive health or just a general practitioner who gives a damn, you’re not going to find an abundance of help with a doctor. 

It’s sad to say, but a lot of general practitioners are either unequipped, underqualified, uninformed or (worst case scenario) just flat out uninterested in helping with what they consider a nebulous disorder at best, or a series of low-priority nuisance issues at worst. 

My main solution to this is to understand deeply and unwaveringly: They may be the doctor, but you are the expert on your own lived experience. Find a doctor that not only knows their business, but who knows that you two are a team.

I’ve been lucky enough to experience both ends of this spectrum. Yes, even the bad ones. 

I’ve had the best insurance money could buy utterly wasted on a doctor that spent months of my time telling me my kidneys were shutting down due to blood in my urine when I already made it clear that the “blood in my urine” was actually my menorrhagia. He completely discounted my lived experience of menstruating for a full 15 - 20 days out of EVERY MONTH and came up with a disorder of his own, wasting so much time sending me back for renal scans whenever the “blood in my urine” didn’t correspond to my test results reflecting perfectly normal kidneys. This guy outright told me that he was more concerned with my hypertension than he was with addressing anything else going on with me. As if it wasn’t all connected.  

I’ve also had supposedly lesser medical staff that took my concerns seriously, conducted examinations promptly, listened to what I had to say and actually laid out what my options were so that I could decide how we should proceed from there. It was one of these places that actually found out that what I’d been dealing with for years was PCOS, giving the beast that tormented me a name so I could draw a target on its back. They broke down their methodology for determining it into layman terms I could understand: 

“your period has these abnormalities, you have these visual markers (skin tags, facial hair, hyperpigmentation), your insulin is up in the prediabetic range and you have multiple benign but problematic cysts on your ovaries. We’ll test a few other hormonal markers in your blood and urine panel but otherwise it’s safe to say you have PCOS”      

5.  There will be people will treat your illness as trivial, not real, a product of unclean living, a product of hysteria and/or all in your head. Even loved ones. Even doctors Even yourself, at times.

6.  Hopelessness and discouragement are almost literally parts of this illness, so treat them as you would any other symptom. I say almost literally because mood swings and a higher probability of depression come with the turf. Also, the uphill battle you’re facing from medical professionals (see Item 4) and even your loved ones just piles onto all this. Overall, this hormonal disorder just wears you down. Self care becomes even more important than ever before, as does finding a community of other women dealing with this.  

7.  Don't get sucked into terf shit while trying to reclaim your femininity. This isn’t really about the disorder itself, I just really wanted to sound off on this right quick (keep in mind I’m a cis woman saying this, I’m not as informed about trans issues as a trans person, but I’m trying to be a good neighbor here. Please do your own research and please understand that hitting up your nearest trans person doesn’t count as research. Google is free and there are literally so many academic and anecdotal resources).

My POV on this is as a cisgender black woman with this disorder. I’ve had my femininity questioned, mocked, and outright denied (misogynoir at its finest) since I was a child. I’ve seen people both overtly and subtly project their weird ideas about gender onto me. And yet I know I don’t go through even a TENTH of the bullshit and violence that trans women of color do. My pain may be legitimate, but it does not give me or anyone with any integrity a free pass to turn the trans community into one big punching bag for my own frustrations.    

There’s nothing terfs love more than preying on vulnerable women that they feel they can recruit. Learn to spot the dogwhistles and reject the sales pitch. They’ll try to court you and make you feel so understood and welcome. Don’t fall for it. I don’t care if J.K. Rowling herself becomes your best buddy. Don’t go there. 

#pcos #menorrhagia #misogynoir #transmisogyny #transmisogynoir #hyperpigmentation

[firelord-frowny]

!!!!

I’ve been thinking about like... how people’s personal values influence what they spend money on, and I feel like a lot of people get pegged as “irresponsible” with their money, when actually they just have a different value system?? 

Like, somebody could be living in a tiny lil rinky-dink house or apartment where the rent is low, and maybe it’s drafty, or in a ~rough~ or otherwise typically undesirable area, 

but that person goes on lavish vacations, or indulges in expensive hobbies, or they buy fancy clothes or whatever. 

And people are quick to shake their heads and chastise the person for not prioritizing the “right things” and whatnot. 

But liiiiike... maybe some people really do value vacations and leisure activities and other so-called “frivolous” things over having a “comfortable” home??

I think soooo much of the typical american ~value system~ is based on a bunch of classist and symbolic bullshit instead of being based on anything sensible. 

Like, everybody wants a big house, but for why??? Why do you need a 7 bedroom home if you don’t want 7 kids?? Why do you need a huge lawn if you’re not gonna be playin soccer on it or whatever??? Why do you need a sitting room AND a living room AND a den? Why do you need a ~master bathroom~? What good is it to have all this symbolic material shit if you don’t actually WANT any of it? If it has no USE to you?? And the cost of having all this shit you don’t want is so high that you can’t actually afford to do any of the things you do want to do! Like, ok, you’ve got your 7 bedroom home, but you can’t spare any money for aaaaanything else.

Like, ok, if that kind of stuff genuinely makes you happy, then whatever, I guess! 

But a lot of people aren’t concerned with that kind of stuff, and are perfectly happy to live in unextravagant homes so they can instead spend their money on the things that are actually important to them, and idk, I feel like it would be Good if peopld weren’t so quick to assume that a person is being irresponsible just because they’re living in an inexpensive place while spending lots of money on other stuff. 

#like #i don't think there's anything automatically irresponsible about having a fancy new car while living in a crappy apartment #if a nice car is more important to you than a nice apartment #then you have the right to allocate your money to that effect!

[larkiwrites]

“Redemption” Chapter 9

AU: Supernatural Title: Redemption Chapter: Nine Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader Word Count:  1,925 Pairing: Getting There…. Warnings: None that I can think of A/N: Sorry for any typos/errors, feel free to point ‘em out and I’ll happily fix them! Feedback is always welcome ^_^

Chapter 8  |  Chapter 10  |  Masterlist

Sam drove the three of you back to the motel in silence. His gaze continued to skim your face in the rear-view mirror every few minutes but you ignored him. You kept your eyes pointed out the window and up at the twinkling stars above. It was a clear night, not a cloud in sight, and it was beautiful. It took your mind off the throbbing pain in your cheekbone, even if for just a moment.

You darted into the motel room once Sam shifted into park, dutifully ignoring the brothers as you went. You needed to find some Tylenol, or advil… ibuprofen? Something. It probably wouldn’t hurt to look for an ice pack, either. Sam and Dean didn’t come in for a while. You were able to get some pain killers in your system and while you couldn’t find an icepack, you were able to use a cold can of coke you found in the fridge to ebb away at the ache. You found yourself wondering why on Earth you had jumped in between the fighting idiots. Why Dean? Why didn’t you step in to protect Sam? Probably because you were physically closer to Dean at the time, honestly, and you were clearly not thinking logically.

Dean came into the room with Sam shortly behind him, shutting the door and locking up for the night. Both stopped in their tracks when they saw you sitting on your bed with your back up against the headboard, holding a can of coke to your face.

“(Y/N),” Dean started, a lot more sober than he was a half an hour ago. You waved him off, not wanting to delve into the drama.

“Seriously, are you ok?” Sam piped in and you shrugged a shoulder in response. Dean was digging through his duffel bag now, looking for something.

“Ah, here they are,” he mumbled and then tossed a gel icepack to Sam and pulled out a small first aid kit. Sam caught the pack with ease and quickly put it in the freezer while Dean came around his bed and closer to you, “Can I, uh…?” He gestured vaguely to your bed, asking to sit.

You shrugged again, your curiosity getting the better of you. Dean sat gingerly on the side of the bed and gently took the can from your grasp. He sat it on the side table next to you and cracked open the first aid kit. He sighed, looking from the supplies up to your face. His calloused fingers hooked under your chin and softly turned your face into the light from the lamp. Your eyes watched him closely as he bit his bottom lip, taking in your bruised cheekbone. You hadn’t noticed earlier, when you were searching for medicine, but apparently your skin had cracked ever so slightly, leaving a small trail of blood down your face. Dean took out an alcohol wipe and patted it to the wound, cleaning your face of any dried blood he could find. You hissed slightly at the sting before biting your own lip to shut yourself up. He muttered a quick apology as he dabbed a cotton swab in antibacterial ointment and lightly applied it to the cut.

“You want a band aid? We’ve got scooby-doo,” he chuckled, his eyes meeting yours. You shook your head.

“Thanks, Dean,” you gave him a small smile. He hadn’t been this kind to you since the first week, when he offered to check on your sutures.

“Yeah, uh, don’t mention it,” he cleared his throat as he cleaned up the trash and packed away the first aid supplies. He took the coke with him and put it back in the fridge before pulling out a new one and bringing it over. It would take some time for the ice pack to freeze and the coke you had been using had grown warm.

“Here,” he handed you the cold can of soda and you smiled again, looking down briefly just to avert your eyes from his green stare. You weren’t used to him making eye contact with you and at this point you weren’t sure how to react.

He sat on Sam’s bed across from you and cleared his throat again, playing with his hands nervously. You realized then that Sam had gone to get a shower at some point while Dean was patching you up. Well, you thought to yourself, that’s awkward. Dean gives me attention for two seconds and Sam is suddenly invisible. It was your turn to clear your throat. You focused on the coke as a distraction and brought it back up to soothe your cheek.

“Look, (Y/N), I…. Why did you do it?” He had meant to apologize but he couldn’t help himself. He had to know what the hell had possessed her to jump in between him and some pissed-off drunk in the middle of a bar.

You had wondered the same thing earlier and still weren’t sure you had an answer, for either of you. You resorted to shrugging and gesticulating widely with your free hand.

“Well,” Dean’s voice became hard again, more along the lines of what you had become accustomed to, “Don’t do it again, right?”

You narrowed your eyes at the man, “I think what you were trying to say here, Dean, is ‘I’m sorry’ or maybe even ‘thank you’.”

“No, because if I thanked you for acting like a brainless git then you would be tempted to do it again.”

“A brainless—Where do you get off, Winchester? You’re the idiot that got drunk off his ass tonight. It wasn’t Sam or I that decided it would be fun to pick a fight with some biker twice our size. We just came to pick you up, ok?”

“Well, Sammy should’ve left you here,” he tensed his jaw, meeting your glare.

“That’s what you’re going with? That is your defense? Sammy should have left poor defenseless, brainless, (Y/N) at the motel?”

“No, (Y/N), that’s not what I mea—”

“Shut it, Dean. I’m going to sleep, you can go fuck yourself,” you cut him off, tired of his bullshit. You placed the coke onto the side table, restraining yourself from throwing it at his head, and turned your back to him.

Dean made a frustrated sound somewhere between a yell and a grunt as he got up and stormed back out of the motel. You briefly wondered if he was heading back to the bar, or if perhaps he was going to sleep outside tonight? You gave yourself a mental shake. I didn’t concern you what he did or where he went, after all.

Sam sighed, having been out of the shower long enough to see the tail end of your conversation. You jumped, startled at the noise. You hadn’t noticed the sound of the water shutting off or the bathroom door opening as you had fought with Dean. The younger brother didn’t say anything, choosing to follow Dean out of the room instead. You rolled your eyes before sliding out of your jeans, unhooking your bra under your shirt, and tossing them both to the floor beside your bed. Fuck them, you tried to tell yourself as you climbed under the sheets. You tried to force yourself to hold on to the anger, but it was hard with the image of a very-concerned Dean biting his lip while trying to take care of you repeatedly popping up in your mind’s eye. You sighed, turning over, and tried to will yourself to sleep.

---

You woke up to a black eye the following day but you couldn’t say you were surprised. You found it when you went to wash your face and brush your teeth. You hadn’t asked the guys to buy you anything frivolous, like makeup for example, so you had no concealer to hide it with. You sighed, at least I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.

“Good morning, (Y/N)…” Sam’s sentence died when he saw your face.

“It’s fine, Sammy,” you answered as you started to pull some eggs out of the mini fridge, “You hungry?”

“Oh, no, I had a smoothie earlier.”

“Before your run?”

Sam grinned, “Yeah, before my run. Why don’t you go with me one of these mornings?”

It was your turn to cringe, “Yeah….about that….”

Dean waltzed into the motel room, the door hitting the wall behind it with a thud.

“I brought coffee,” he announced, carrying a cardboard cupholder with three steaming cups nestled securely in it.

You tucked the eggs back into the fridge at the site of coffee. You didn’t get much sleep last night, tossing and turning quite a bit. You had hazy memories of troublesome dreams but you couldn’t bring the images into focus. Giving yourself yet another mental shake, you gratefully accepted the Styrofoam cup Sam had taken from Dean and offered to you. You took a sip and sighed, your eyes fluttering closed as the ambrosia hit your tongue and lit up your taste buds.

“Did I get it right?” Dean chuckled at your reaction.

Your eyes snapped open to find him staring at you with a hint of a grin still on his face. You narrowed your eyes slightly and bit your tongue, not wanting to yell at him first thing in the morning, especially when he had brought you coffee. This was probably his way of apologizing for last night, you thought to yourself, but you would rather he just say he’s sorry. You nodded your head and hummed that he had indeed gotten your order right; two creams two sugars. How he knew how you liked your coffee was beyond you. You didn’t linger on it, instead offering your help to Sam with research or whatever he needed.

“How long are you going to let me live with you before you let me help you with your ‘investigation’?” you curled two of the fingers on your free hand in the air when you said investigation. You knew they weren’t private investigators; they may as well fess up at this point.

Sam chuckled and shook his head, “You can live with us as long as you want, (Y/N), but we’re not pulling you into our work anytime soon.”

“Or ever,” Dean added.

“Why’s that?” you asked between sips of coffee, following the two men to the small table that held Sam’s laptop.

“It’s not safe,” Dean’s voice came across sternly, as if he was trying to put an end to the conversation. He only piqued your curiosity further.

“Not safe? What, are you secret assassins?” You laughed the same way you had when you asked Sam if he was a drug dealer. You missed the look the brothers shared when you sipped your coffee.

“Yes, (Y/N), we’re assassins,” Sam answered in a flat tone as he booted up the computer.

“Oooh, so you privately investigate people before you kill ‘em?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him.

“Yes, (Y/N), and we’re also ninjas,” Dean added, biting back a grin.

You tried not to glare at him. After last night you may or may not be harboring a grudge.

“Cool. Private-investigating ninja-assassins. Sign me up, boys, I want in,” you grinned, wincing when it stung your cheek.

Dean’s smile faltered as you winced, “You ok?”

You bit your tongue once again, willing yourself to be nice for Sam’s sake if nothing else. Rather than answering him you simply nodded and took another sip of your coffee. If you can't say something nice, don't say nothing at all….right?

-Next Chapter-

#spn au #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural au #supernatural fanic #supernatural fanfiction #larkiwrites #larkiwrites redemption #dean winchester #sam winchester #y/n #reader pov #reader insert #eventual dean x reader #slow burn #the winchester boys

[shirtlesssammy]

2x08: Crossroad Blues

Welcome to this season’s real hellatus! We’ve got a little theme for the episodes we’re recapping. Try and guess what it is :D Also, we have some good news and bad news. Good news: We’re going to do a whole week of recaps towards the end of the break! Yay! Bad news: They’re all episodes that we hate. We need to get them off our recap plate before the show ends. Enjoy the hellatus (*crying noise*).

Then:

Sam Winchester, professional puppy dog

Now:

Greenwood, Mississippi

August, 1938

Robert Johnson plays Crossroads Blues on a stage to a crowd at a bar. He briefly hears growls but continues to play. He stops again when he sees shadows race outside. The crowd looks confused. Robert runs outside after hearing barks. He races to a shed, but the unseen source of the barking follows him. He kneels to await his fate. 

The door bursts open to find a woman and two men from the bar. The men run to find help and the woman pleads with Robert to stay with her as he mutters, “Dogs, black dogs.” He dies in her arms. 

Sam and Dean are at a diner and Sam’s researching how much of an outlaw Dean is. Sam is upset because it’s going to make their job harder now that the feds have them on their radar. Well, they have Dean on their radar. Dean thinks Sam is jealous. 

Sam’s got a case. An architect jumped off a building he designed, after calling animal control about seeing wild black dogs in his condo. 

There’s a ton of lore on black dogs. Dean brings the real insight to the situation when he tells Sam, “Bet they could hump the crap out of your leg.” AND I MISS THIS DEAN SO MUCH SOME DAYS. 

They interview Gunner Lawless his business partner under the guise of writing a tribute for Architectural Digest. His partner is resentful but admits that the man was a genius. He wasn’t always that way though. He wonders why people with true talent die young. 

The brothers’ next stop is at an area animal shelter. Dean flirts his way into learning more about black dogs in the area. Dean Bean got Carly’s MySpace address too. 

They next head to interview all the people that reported the black dogs. The first on their list is Dr. Sylvia Pearlman. She hasn’t been home in two days. Dean notes that she’s chief of surgery at her hospital, a position she’s had for ten years. She’s only about 42, so she’s very young for that position. They also find a connection to their vic and the doctor. They both visited a place called Lloyd’s Bar. 

Meanwhile, the doctor is hiding out in an early season dingy motel room. She’s frazzled and petrified when someone knocks on the door. The motel staff is there demanding money for another night’s stay. She grabs her money and turns to the man in the door,  only to see his face warp unnaturally. 

The boys find Lloyd’s Tavern next. On the cross road outside the joint, Dean notices yarrow flowers growing alongside the road. These flowers are used for summoning rituals. They put things together and start digging a hole in the middle of the crossroads. They find a tin with various items in it.

People have been summoning and making deals with a demon. “Y’know cause that always ends good.” EAT YOUR WORDS DEAN. Sam says that these people aren’t seeing black dogs, they’re seeing hell hounds. 

Meanwhile, the doctor meets her end with a visit from her own date with the hell hounds. 

Rosedale, Mississippi

1930

We witness Robert Johnson make his crossroads deal with a demon. 

Sam notes that whatever they’re dealing with is a lot like the Robert Johnson lore. Dean notes that Johnson’s music is full of references to hell hounds, demon deals, and the occult. Dean’s barely-tolerating-this-bullshit eyeroll is truly a wonder. (Objectification Sidenote: Damn, Dean’s pretty in this scene.) 

Anyway, they have a picture of another person that made a deal, George Darrow. They head to where he lives. They notice pepper on the doorsill. George answers his door but doesn’t want anything to do with them. They reveal that they know about the supernatural and tell him they want to help. Sam asks about the pepper and George tells them that it’s actually goofer dust. It keeps out demons.

George talks about making his deal and reveals that the demon stayed around Lloyd’s for a week making deals with other people. George mentions the architect and doctor. There’s one other person that also made a deal ten years prior, a man named Evan Hudson. George is resigned to his fate and tells the brothers to leave. 

Evan Hudson works in his home office late at night and flinches at hell hound barks. His wife peeks in before she heads off on a trip. 

As she’s bidding him farewell, her face warps into a dead zombie howl. WHEE HALLUCINATIONS!

Sam and Dean arrive at Evan’s house. Dean opens with asking about Lloyd’s Bar, and Evan immediately slams the door in his face and retreats into his home. That went well! Dean kicks down the door and I’m FINE WITH THIS and not objectifying him at all.

The Winchesters corner Evan in his office. Yes, he knows hell hounds are coming for his soul. Dean’s bitterly dismissive of Evan’s distress, joking about potentially frivolous reasons for him to bargain his soul away. Evan reveals that his wife was dying of cancer, and he made a deal for her health. While Sam melts into a puppy-eyed puddle, Dean still reacts to this with anger. “You ever think about her in all this?” Dean asks. “I think you did this for yourself. So you wouldn’t have to live without her. Well guess what? She’s gonna have to live without you now.”  

Dean’s anger is...counterproductive. So Sam pulls Dean away and they consult in the hall. Dean instructs Sam to spread George’s goofer dust around while he high tails it to the crossroads to summon himself a demon. He’ll exorcise it, and that will buy them a little time. Sam calls this out as a reckless plan and speculates that Dean’s only doing it because he thinks their dad made a deal. “What if he struck a deal?” Dean asks. “My life for his soul?” OH this SWEET EMOTIONAL TORTURE! He heads out to summon the demon.

Dean buries his offering in the crossroad and turns around to find a woman smirking at him. She’s a crossroads demon! They take turns objectifying each other and then Dean invites her to meet in his car for a little privacy. Classic serial killer pickup line. 

Dean tells the demon his terms. He wants Evan released from his deal and he’ll barter himself for it. “You’d sacrifice yourself for someone else?” she says with a devilish smile. “Like father, like son.” 

DRAMATIC MUSIC BREAK

The demon gleefully taunts Dean about John’s deal. When Dean tries to usher her into his car, she balks at the edges of the devil’s trap she sees peeking out from under Baby. Nice try, Dean Bean!

Meanwhile, Evan does his best dramatic chipmunk (prairie dog) impression. 

The hell hounds are now growling from INSIDE THE HOUSE! Sam and Evan watch the doors warily. 

While the hounds close in, Dean gets emotionally traumatized by the demon. (Side note, her breath is visible in this scene and she’s wearing a short sleeved, thin dress. I’m cold in sympathy.) She taunts him about his man-pain and terrible guilt about John’s death. She has the power to bring back John. Dean seems...interested.

The hell hound at Evan’s house stops rattling the door and the room goes silent for a moment until...the hound bursts through the ventilation grate! What a smart doggo!

Dean wants to learn more about the potential to bring back his dad and mopes under a wooden structure until the demon joins him there. She tells him she can give him a ten year deal: John’s life for Dean’s, and they get ten years together before Dean heads below. She plays Dean like a fiddle, and we get a callback to Dean’s feelings in Faith - that he’s not supposed to be alive. Dean experiences VERY LARGE EMOTIONS before wandering out of the structure. “You think you could throw in a set of steak knives?” He directs her attention upward, where he’s painted a devil’s trap on the underside of the structure. What a smart Dean Bean! Excellent misdirection. 

Dean reels off HIS deal: Evan lives, and the demon goes free. If she doesn’t strike a deal, she gets exorcised. (Which is SO embarrassing amirite?) 

Dean starts the exorcism and it starts a fierce wind to howling. The wind gusts into Evan’s house and blows away Sam’s goofer dust circle. Sam and Evan run for safety. The hell hound barks fiercely...until it doesn’t.

Cut to Dean angry-kissing the demon. A kiss seals the deal (apparently all demons like to slip a little tongue). (Insert crack headcanon that this is Crowley in an alternate vessel, when he first gets heart eyes for Dean.)

The demon tells Dean that her word is her bond, but if Dean breaks their deal then the first thing she’ll do when she escapes Hell is tear into Evan like he’s wet paper.

The demon can’t resist one parting shot. Dean should’ve taken the deal. John Winchester’s torture is unimaginably bad. Dean charges for her, the demon smokes out, and Dean’s left with a scared woman in the middle of the crossroads and way too many feelings.

Driving away, Sam and Dean listen to the blues and contemplate John’s deal. Sam tries to focus on the people John saved, but Dean’s stuck in a sadness pit of his own making. Sam asks him if he considered actually making the deal. Dean doesn’t answer, instead just turning the music up.

Oh, Dean.

The Quotes Bark at Midnight:

Dude, I'm like Dillinger or something

I bet they could hump the crap outta your leg

MySpace, what the hell is that?

Somebody goes over Niagara in a barrel, you gonna jump in and try to save 'em?

You're lucky I've got a soft spot for lost puppies and long faces

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

#spn recap #spn rewatch #spn 2x08 #crossroad blues #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural season 2

[god-save-the-keen]

Badass grandma, Emily Gilmore time!

1. "You wear that in public?"

2. "They're upstairs, gathering dust, along with the rest of her/his potential."

3. "Hold on, I'm looking up 'aneurysm' in our medical dictionary to see if I just had one."

4. "This is easily the most pointless conversation we've ever had."

5. "No one needs a comment from you."

6. "I don't know where that's been, but I can say with absolute certainty it won't be going anywhere near my mouth."

7. "You remember, I'm so touched."

8. "Well, I know that and you know that, but those idiots at *Place* might not necessarily know that!"

9. "Name, for God's sake, be quiet."

10. "You're muttering under your breath. And it's usually about me."

11. "It's more efficient this way. We'll both be finished at the same time."

12. "Do you think you'll be single your entire life?"

13. *A person talking begin ignored that keeps talking about a random topic* "Name, would you like me to put a mirror in front of you so you can look at yourself while you have this conversation?"

14. "We can discuss this in the morning." "No! We have to discuss it now!" "Are you drunk?"

15. "Walk as you babble, please."

16. "No one needs a comment from you."

17. "Was there anything else that you wanted to add to that hello?"

18. "Name, I'm getting a little tired of being lied to."

19. "So what is exactly going on between the two of you?" "Nothing. Really. We're friends, that's it." "You're idiots-the both of you."

20. "I did not sign on to your dying, and it is not going to happen. Not tonight, not for a very long time."

21. "Your sense of humor rears its ugly head at the oddest of times, Name."

22. "That's food you eat a carnival, or in a Turkish prison."

23. "Let me be frivolous and shallow, will you, please?"

24. "I guess you and I are more alike than you thought, aren't we?"

25. "You were always too proud to accept anything from anyone."

26. "Well, then buy me a boa and ride to Reno because I'm open to business!"

27. "Tacky, horrid people."

28. "I saw her/him kissing a men/woman in a tracksuit!"

29. "I'm going to go insane. If you don't help me, I'll take you with me."

30. "Have you lost your mind?"

31. "It's all just a big pile of bullshit!"

32. "Oh, I see. Because I want things a certain way I'm unreasonable?"

33. "You never do anything unless it's exactly what you want to do."

34. "Name (can be random) shot her/his husband/wife." "What?" "At least she/he had a husband/wife to kill."

35. "It's a complete disaster!" "My existence?" "Not everything is about you, Name."

36. "I can't lose him/her, Name! He/she's my whole life and there's nothing I can do!"

37. "If she/he's bleeding on the side of the road I'll drive by, pretend I didn't see."

38. "That attitude! I wanted to slap that monosyllabic mouth of his/her!"

39. "You're not seriously sitting there." "No. It's a hologram. Lifelike isn't it?"

40. "You are certainly not going to google me!"

Leave you request! Or share it, use it, etc. 💗

#emily gilmore #emily gilmore gilmore girls #gilmore girls #gilmore girls prompt list #writing prompt #prompt list #prompt #dialogue prompts

[crowsent]

My Personal List Of Karkat Insults

I used these back when Cherubplay was a big thing. Feel free to use them in your fanfics, your RPs, etc

Pisscouch

Ventripotent

Asscactus

Shitgibbon

Cretin

Douchepistol

Mouthvomits

Half-eaten Sandwich

Absolute Walnut

Spam Email

Soggy Lampshade

Buttplug Face

Toupeed Fucktrumpet

Utter Cockwomble

Moldy Leftover

Cranberry Fucknut

Useless Paperclip

Legless Table

Ass Dandruff

Warthog-faced Orangutan

Puerile Filth

Pile of Putrescence

Sack of Excrement

Catatonic Peanut

Ignored Text

Broken Headphones

Floppy Breadstick

Neon Croc

Insipid Petunia

Cockroach Motherfucker

Slackjawed Pickletits

Pugnacious Dish Rag

Hamster Basket

Ignorant Fuckmuppet

Snooty McSnotwhine

Undigested Burrito

Slope-browed Weaseldicks

Paint-huffing Shitgoblins

Mangled Apricot Hellbeast

Hemorrhoidal Shit Stain

Pestilent Little Toad

Inconsiderate Space Herpe

Witless Wombat Cocksplat

Tangled Headphone Cord

Uneducated Cat Penis

Unnecessary Stock Footage

Arrogant Beet Casserole

Unusable Bobby Pin

Wannabe Wikipedia Philosopher

What The Entire Fuck

Bloviating Flesh Bag

Shit-faced Ferret-Wearing Shitgibbon

-

Staple your fingers together

Please choke on your spoon

Bright as a black hole and twice as dense

Piss lord of shit mountain

Go fuck a cactus

Shove a cactus up your ass

Rusty used razor from the 1800's

Pile of wombat shit

I'd slap you on he head, but I'm not sure your brain knows the concept of pain

The human personification of Monday

Fuck me sideways with a sandblaster

May natural selection come for your pathetic ass

Human beings perpetually display an inordinate amount of infallible stupidity

You'd struggle to pour water out of a boot with instructions on the heel

Someone ought to rip your vocal cords right out of your throat

I'm not frivolous enough to buy your bullshit

Are you making a special effort to be extra stupid today

After evaluating your statement, I can conclude that you are a complete uneducated soapy dishrag

You ask for more stuff than the Red Cross

I don't even know how to respond to this bullshit

Disappointment wrapped in apathy and sealed with self-loathing

There is a land called Shitface Douchebagstan, and you are the king

You potato with eyes

Make like Icarus and fly into the sun

Well, I'd agree with you but then we'd both be wrong

I'm going to pour hot tea on your face

I get so emotional when you're not around and that emotion is happiness

Is your ass jealous from the shit coming out of your mouth

That skinny jeans must have cut the oxygen supply to your head

I think my bunny slippers just ran for cover

You're as pretty as a picture and I'd love to have the honour of hanging you

Pardon me sir, but you seem to have mistaken me for someone who gives a fuck

Why don't you pray to God to throw some brains down from heaven, or you know, a stone as long as it's well-aimed at your empty head

Consider me the king of weaponized profanity

I don't have an education high enough to qualify understanding the language of douchebag

Did the circus come to town

The biggest dick with the tiniest dick ever to walk the planet

Are you a professional at being a douchebag because you're doing a great job

I'd call you a dick, but you're not good enough to be one

It's amusing how you state the obvious with such a sense of discovery

You are not worth the calories I burn talking to you

Get off your high fucking emboldened horse

I will shove your entire upper body into your own ass and make you fuck yourself from the inside out

It must be hard being that stupid

If you're going to be a smartass, you have to be smart

I don't have enough middle fingers to show you how I feel

Your birth certificate was a waste of paper

Congratulations, I hope you feel accomplished by the fact that you suck

More of your conversation would reduce the amount of brain cells I have

Stop poisoning the air with your toxic presence

Charientism is an art you have no skill in

I'd love to introduce your face to a shovel

Tell your intestines I said hello since your head is that far up your ass

Back the fuck up you soggy burger

From the very moment I laid eyes on you, I knew I'd spend the rest of my life avoiding you like the Black Plague

Pile of white crayons

There's digging your own grave, and there's blasting a hole straight through the earth's core and jumping right in

I'm somewhat of a bullshitter, but please, carry on, I want to listen to a real pro

Your father should have been a eunuch

Natural selection will come for you

If brains were gasoline, you wouldn't be able to drive a tiny ant go cart a single lap around a cheerio

Someone ought to open an umbrella in your ass

Go contract a debilitating case of genital warts

Human equivalent of the common cold

Dog shit is prettier than your face

You seem to be having delusions on adequacy

Stop making me want to pick you up and shake you until your ass spits out the pathetically microscopic amount of brain cells you have in your tiny head

Take a swim in the Dead Sea

Look into my eyes and take a deep breath, does it look like I care

What kind of qualities do you have to make up for your stupidity

I want to punch down a wall and that's sad because I like my walls; they're freshly painted with a nice colour that looks better than the entirety of your face

You need to sit down and think about just how fucking wrong you are

If I want to be you, I'd put a fucking horse face on

Stop throwing a temper tantrum worthy of making my non-existent three year old kid die of embarrassment

-

....long before your parents squirted water at each other from across the clown car and then honked their bicycle horns to indicate they really wanted to make a smug, insufferable little clown baby together

...drunk on your own buzzword, incapable of forming an original coherent thought

...you display a lack of knowledge and a fundamental disregard for human nature so profound, you make me wonder if you consistently incorporate lead paint into your daily diet of doritos

...should be burned to the ground, the ashes salted, and the remains baptised by a priest willing to wade in all that bullshit

...supporting their moronic crusade of dragging everyone everywhere down into the pits of hell to rot

...popping up faster than an entourage of wild untamed forsynthias

...regroup instead of fucking playing whack-a-mole

...skills of a plastic houseplant

#hs #homestuck #still trash #writing ref

[thebluelemontree]

summer-turtle

  Would you ever write same-sex relationships...

Probably because a lot of people don’t trust Myranda with Sansa. This is backed up by Mya/Sansa being quite popular, and Mya being more trustworthy.

Yeah, well, people also tend to only take cursory glances at minor characters.  I can see why people think that, but they are also wrong, and I need to rant about it. LOL.  People who have that assumption that Mya = good, Myranda = bad, forget that Mya and Myranda are “close as sisters.”  They are best friends of similar age and grew up together.  So Mya, who already has serious trust issues from her father’s abandonment, would be “close as sisters” for years with a supposedly untrustworthy jealous schemer?  Myranda is smart and isn’t forthcoming on some things, but that doesn’t make her ill-intentioned toward Sansa.  That doesn’t really add up when we look at everything.

It’s Littlefinger that fears Myranda for being “shrewder than her father.”  So her father, Nestor Royce, is the one taking bribes from Littlefinger and supports his moves to take power as Lord Protector after Lysa’s convenient death and taking custody of Robert.  If Littlefinger fears Myranda’s interference, it’s because she’s not on board with her father being Littlefinger’s ally.  And that was before Littlefinger’s move to betroth Sansa to HtH.   "Soon or late you must meet Myranda Royce," Petyr had warned her. "When you do, be careful. She likes to play the merry fool, but underneath she's shrewder than her father. Guard your tongue around her." 

Personally, I think that if Littlefinger is wary of Myranda Royce, that’s a good thing.  She’s shrewd.  She’s not buying into his bullshit.  So Myranda is already suspicious of what Littlefinger is doing, so of course, she wants to meet this “daughter” of his that is so close to Robert Arryn.  What’s her part in all this?  Is Alayne a victim and forced into a situation against her will?  Or is she a willing participant in LF’s scheme?  And since she knows Alayne is really Sansa, the big question would be what the heck is Sansa Stark doing with Littlefinger?  She’s wanted for regicide in KL.  Is she a murderess that something to do with Lysa’s death too?  We forget that Myranda might have good reasons to not trust Sansa at first until she gets to know her better.  Just because we, the readers, know Sansa is not there by choice, doesn’t mean other characters do.  

So she does examine Sansa closely when they ride down the mountain together.  “She studied Alayne's face and chest. "You are prettier than me, but my breasts are larger. The maesters say large breasts produce no more milk than small ones, but I do not believe it. Have you ever known a wet nurse with small teats? Yours are ample for a girl your age, but as they are bastard breasts, I shan't concern myself with them."   

So while Myranda is chattering away about boobs, playing the merry fool, she’s disarming Sansa with humor and frivolity so she has an excuse to look at her face and features closely without it being uncomfortable staring, which would make Sansa instantly more guarded.  And Myranda doesn’t have a bastard prejudice.  That’s nonsense.  Her best friend is a bastard, so we know this is all a pretense. :P  When we know that, it seems like Myranda is testing Sansa with different subjects to trigger a reaction:  Lysa’s death, the mention of Jon Snow, if Alayne is still a virgin, how big is her father’s “little finger?” which is a bizarre question to ask, unless she’s trying to figure out what the nature of Sansa and Littlefinger’s relationship is.  Are they lovers and is she his accomplice? She needs to know because Robert Arryn is directly under Alayne’s care and she does seem to genuinely care about Robert.  Mya does too, despite the way Robert treats her.  After the ride down and Myranda seeing the person that Sansa is, especially when she sees Sansa helping Robert cross the stone bridge, I think Myranda comes away convinced that Sansa is a good person and she’s most likely Littlefinger’s victim.  

And that whole HtH subplot?  Myranda was rejected by Lady Anya and Harry long before LF or Alayne were in the picture.  Myranda is a great match on paper for Harry.  The junior branch of house Royce is still an ancient family name.  Catelyn advised Robb to choose an heir from that branch.  The Hardyngs are landed knights, and Harry does have a need to emphasize his more prestigious relations, which he does on his quartered shield.  Myranda is very sex-positive. witty, and fun, but she’s also fat, and Harry is horribly fatphobic.  Lady Anya knows that as she cleaned up the Cissy incident for him.  Of course, Anya rejected Myranda outright without hearing another word because she isn’t going to sour her relationship to her future high lord by betrothing him to a woman that would disgust him.  Now Myranda says it might have been about dowry (which Anya may have told Nestor as an excuse to avoid making a personal insult), but I think Myranda knows it's about her appearance.  Her first reaction to a mention of HtH is that she hopes he gets an STI, which is a pretty strong “fuck that jerk.”  People always love to trot out:

"The first Lady Waynwood must have been a mare, I think. How else to explain why all the Waynwood men are horse-faced? If I were ever to wed a Waynwood, he would have to swear a vow to don his helm whenever he wished to fuck me, and keep the visor closed." She gave Alayne a pinch on the arm. "My Harry will be with them, though. I notice that you left him out. I shall never forgive you for stealing him away from me. He's the boy I want to marry."

"The betrothal was my father's doing," Alayne protested, as she had a hundred times before. She is only teasing, she told herself...but behind the japes, she could hear the hurt.            

So we see Myranda firing back at Anya Waynwood’s appearance. Like “oh yeah, lady, it’s not like you Waynwoods have room to talk about how anyone looks.  Your sons don’t exactly do it for me either.”  Bullshit Myranda’s rejection was about dowry.  Fat people know when they’re being rejected for being fat.  It hurts!  There’s pain behind Myranda’s jokes, yes, not true jealousy.  We know Alayne never stole Harry from her.  Harry rejected her long before.  Alayne has never even met Harry before, so how could she steal him?  Myranda’s attitude toward Harry before the betrothal plot happened was that Harry is an asshole and an irresponsible cad.  She certainly didn’t say she had her heart set on marrying him then only that her father hoped to make a match.  So what is she doing then and how do we make sense of it?  Well, she’s reframing the narrative to a less painful version of events, one to where the reason has nothing to do with her weight and Harry wasn’t a cruel prick to her because I do think Myranda knows her own worth even if guys like Harry don’t.  That she sees herself just as much of a catch as Sansa Stark even if she’s a bigger girl.  Myranda is smart enough to know that whole narrative is bullshit, makes no factual sense, and none of this is Sansa’s doing, but she’s also human, and it really sucks to be grossly devalued like that.  If you asked her what she thought of Harry, she’d probably still say she hopes he gets the pox.  And Sansa’s reaction to her hurt is sympathy, which she gives Myranda over and over, as many times as Myranda needs to hear it every time she brings it up.  She rescues Myranda from being besieged by two gross men ogling at her.  Even with the death of Myranda’s first husband, Sansa reassures her that it wasn’t her fault he had a heart attack while they were having sex.  But behind the jokes, behind the merry fool, is someone who has internalized shame for being a “dreadful slut.”  She’s internalized some of her father’s criticism of the embarrassing way in which she was widowed.  It’s very hard to be jealous and hateful of someone when they treat you with kindness, sympathy, understanding, and support at every turn.  

And if Myranda really wanted to get Sansa out of the way, what is she waiting for?  She’s had weeks and months to reveal her identity and turn her in.  She could easily tell Lyn Corbray who she knows has a beef with Littlefinger and desperately needs the gold.  What’s stopping her?  Nothing.  She hasn’t made one move to betray Sansa.  Not once.  Again, would the supposed good and real friend Mya go along with that if she suspected her CLOSE AS A SISTER BEST FRIEND Myranda was going to harm Sansa in any way?  I don’t think so, because there is no plot to betray Sansa on Myranda’s end.

Later on, in TWOW sample, we learn that Myranda is being threatened by Nestor to marry her off to some nasty unwanted suitor.  Why?  She clearly runs Nestor’s castle capably, and with her family name, he could make a great match for her.  Maybe it’s because Myranda has voiced her opposition to what her father is doing and that is why he’s threatening to get rid of her, probably at Littlefinger’s behest if she’s even thinking of betraying THEM, not Sansa.    

And so what even if there’s a little jealousy there?  Jon was undoubtedly jealous of Robb’s advantages, but he could overcome those feelings and love Robb like a brother.  The love he got out of their relationship was worth more than his feelings of resentment. And readers give Jon that leeway to feel both love and jealousy and not hold it against him.  Girls aren’t granted that.  I hate it when people (general, not you) seem to think girls are incapable of overcoming their jealousies or petty rivalries, especially over a boy.  That any conflict between girls will cause one of them to slam their hand down on the nuclear option and destroy the other.  And I don’t think George is going that direction with Myranda

They made a race of it, dashing headlong across the yard and past the stables, skirts flapping, whilst knights and serving men alike looked on, and pigs and chickens scattered before them. It was most unladylike, but Alayne sound found herself laughing. For just a little while, as she ran, she forget who she was, and where, and found herself remembering bright cold days at Winterfell, when she would race through Winterfell with her friend Jeyne Poole, with Arya running after them trying to keep up.

By the time they arrived at the gatehouse, both of them were red-faced and panting. Myranda had lost her cloak somewhere along the way.

The girls have a race (a competition), but the race is framed around sisterhood and friendship.  There’s no winner or loser though.  And Myranda lost her cloak (as a marriage symbol) somewhere along the way, and it doesn’t matter because the girls were having too much fun together.  The friendship was more important than any rivalry, and that’s our lead-in scene to Sansa meeting Harry for the first time.               

AND THAT IS WHY I’m all fired up again, and I will make it a point to write a Sansa/Myranda bisexual slow burn with lots of fluff, mutual support, body positivity, and hot sex because both these girls deserve it and I love them with my whole heart XD

#summer-turtle #sansa stark x myranda royce #IS2G #I need this fic now #long post #ranting

[aniseandspearmint]

I finally got a hold of a cord with the right end for my camera!

Okay recap for people new to my own personal drama! We had to move because the property we rent was sold, and the new owner doesn’t want renters.

It took months of calling and many many panic attacks, and several people trying to scam us, but I FINALLY found a place.

(I’m going to stick a cut here, because I don’t want a repeat of the last post where I forgot and it got LONG. Anyone who wants to know more, and see slightly awful pictures, they’re under the cut)

I take care of my elderly mother. That is ALL I do because she needs constant help and the nursing homes in Georgia are Dickensian nightmares unless you are rich and can afford an upgrade.

I get no help from the county for this, because they decided to shut that program down a while back, so we live on mom’s 771 dollars a month. (This will hopefully change now, since this place we’ve gotten is in a much larger county and I’ve heard from acquaintances in the area that they have some programs we might qualify for.) This income is NOT conductive to finding even a crappy trailer we quickly found out. If I never hear “You need to make three times the rent to qualify for this trailer.” or, “We require a nonrefundable 80-100 dollar background/credit check before we even CONSIDER you.” or, “Pet deposit is 200 dollars per pet.” EVER again it will be too soon.

It took us a long time to save up enough money for a deposit and the place we managed to find is,,,, Eh, not as bad as some of the places we looked at to be honest. It’s not great, and it’s smaller than the place we live in now by a bit which means a bunch of our things are going to have to live under a tarp in the back yard for a while while we sort through things and such, but it’s doable!

Mom is,,, Not thrilled. She burst into tears when I showed her the pictures and has been in a depressive slump since, even though I was quick to point out that most of the problems are fixable! The roof doesn’t leak! The walls and windows have no holes in them! We can keep all of our dogs!

As imperfect and in need of repair as the place is, it is FAR better than some of the other places we were considering. There are two big issues that I’m going to have to handle as soon as I can though.

The first is the carpeting.

It’s all this green semi-shag that’s going to be hell for my mother’s wheelchair to move over. It needs to go ASAP. I’m talking to some folks about vinyl sheet flooring (we’ve had less than stellar experiences with vinyl tile) and I hope to find some for a reasonable price.

Second is the walls. You can see /some/ of the problem in the above pic but here’s another

This house is an old row house, and at some point, the owner boarded up, then plastered over, a pair of windows on either side of the living room and put in a single window by the door. The frames of all the other windows are rough too.

^^^ That window. As you can see clearly, the cover up was not the best. And it’s not very visible in the pics, but the walls were done in that weird pebbly popcorn/cottage cheese stuff that’s normally done on ceilings. (The wall color, bad patch, and texture combo kinda makes me sick? Yay for autistic sensory bullshit, I guess -__-;;;) I have a line on some paint. But I am going to need SO MUCH spackle. So Much.

This is the bathroom, which has my very VERY claustrophobic mother extra depressed.

It’s hard to tell with the angle, but that is the entire bathroom. There is juuust enough room in front of the bathtub to walk one foot in front of the other. There is absolutely no way mom could get her walker in there. We do have someone who’s going to try and give us a shower stall to put in instead though! So that is fixable, just not right away.

If anyone is willing to help out, I’ve got an Amazon List and a Walmart Registry full of some things to fix the house up with, and some basic necessities (if I don’t have to buy those, I can afford more spackle and paint and flooring). Lots of cleaning supplies because this place is /grubby/. I also put some plastic floor mats on both lists (the ones at Walmart are MUCH cheaper fyi) in case I can’t remove the carpeting right away. Those would let mom get around.

AMAZON LIST

WALMART LIST

Also, I mentioned mom is really depressed about all this? Yeah, it got worse. She cut off most of her hair a couple days ago. I’m really worried. I stuck some frivolous things on the Amazon list. Some of her favorite movies that she doesn’t have on DVD yet, a few TV seasons she doesn’t have, and a couple books she’s had over on one of her amazon lists for a while. If anyone would be willing to grab one I’d be very grateful. It’s probably silly to ask, but her birthday is next month and she’s just so upset about things, I’m hoping SOMETHING will cheer her up a bit.

#me #my life #SIGNAL BOOST #help out if you can #being poor in america #moving #home repair