Do you think Jackie listened to Nightcore in his teen years yes or yes
Correct
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i propose; purple fire
your answer?
purple fireee. WOULD BE SO PRETTY. OMG WAIT THIS WOULD FIT IN MY NOTION SO WELL.
IT WORKSS SO WELL FOR THE BANNER TYSM FOR THE IDEA 😭
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dream is seriously a crazy genius for only promoting presale through in-person interactions and the vaguest possible hints on his priv like he found a way of guaranteeing the only people that See and buy tickets are his actual fans, no freak antis or scalpers u have to Be intensely keeping up with him to have any idea at all it’s even happening HE IS UNMATCHED WHEN IT COMES TO. FAN CULTURE AND KNOWING HOW TO CATER TO THE MOST LOYAL PARTS OF HIS AUDIENCE BEFORE ANYONE ELSE
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So I see folks pointing out that Louis' circle A tattoo is more likely an aesthetic choice than an announcement of a political commitment to anarchism, and saying basically that that maybe makes him a bit of a poser and I mean- I GUESS. But I don't like to look at things that way and I don't think it's useful. As I see it the subversive sexiness of the symbols of resistance have ALWAYS been gateways for people who are drawn to the struggle in vague ways and that's GOOD. Aligning yourself with those values is good no matter the reason, in my book, especially given the wretched options available out there, but also the journey doesn't necessarily stop there. Gatekeeping queerness victimizes people who are just trying things out and starting to discover that it may run deeper than just trying on a new look who should instead be welcomed and helped along their path, and I fail to see how gatekeeping political affiliations is any different (plus how counterproductive to actual movement building is that?)
ANYWAY. What I really want to say about Louis is that while I KNOW that Louis is probably not secretly a theory reading anti-state communalist anarchist, I think that actually Louis' optimism and idealism (and his unwavering commitment to allying himself with the working class and embracing those roots) are a perfect fit for the philosophy and always have been. I know that anarchism is mostly understood as being about throwing molotov cocktails and fighting the state (and the allure of its symbols are that they signify this, a terrific aesthetic for him to choose to sign on with in my book), but that's honestly largely cartoonish stereotyping that comes directly from anti-anarchist state propaganda. That resistance is necessary in this hellscape of oppression we live in and is super important, but in its heart anarchism is only about the state in that the state and capitalism currently stands in the way of its goals. The whole point of anarchism is that it's NOT about the state! It's about being able to imagine something better than a state, it's about how we live and about how we SHOULD live, it's about HOPE and picturing something utopian and something free of the ways capitalism pits us against one another! What could be more Louis than that?
"I need you and you need me and I love that" is as beautiful a way of talking about the cornerstone of anarchism that is mutual aid as any long winded essay I've read (even if what he meant was contextually different), and I think when he talks again and again about how special the space fans have made around him is he is expressing an intuitive understanding of the importance of autonomous zones, places and moments outside of the shitty life imposed on us by the system (also a huge part of anarchist thought). Maybe I'm just being an optimist but I think that Louis DOES understand that caring for people and wanting self-determination and freedom for all and allying himself with the working class involves a certain amount of resistance to and positioning yourself in opposition to the state. Thinking the symbols of smashing that state are cool isn't meaningless; it's a CHOICE. There are other cool symbols out there and I just happen to think that feeling a resonance with certain ones is something in and of itself, even if at this moment he does not choose to start a fight with the media about it all.
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soap had smoked before he enlisted, too.
it was a nasty habit, one he couldn’t bear to kick after it had proved to be the only thing to stop his hands from holding a constant tremble. his mother frowned when, on his scattered weeks and months of leave, he rose every thirty odd minutes, meandered to the back patio for five and came back smelling like ash.
it was impossible for her to understand, he knew. she’d never get that feeling the tar coat his lungs made him forget about the persistent ringing in his ears, that the burn that traveled to his nostrils, making his eyes water, distracted him from the bile constantly threatening to rise from his gut.
on base he smoked without shame broiling under his skin. he was a soldier, he’d probably be better off getting discharged for lung cancer than slowly bleeding out in the field. at least then he’d have a few months to make the most of life, instead of a few measly minutes of denial.
but that was a lie, wasn’t it? he didn’t care about the sidelong glances from his comrades when he showed up tracking the scent of fireplaces after him, he didn’t care about the jokes poking at his yellowed teeth, he didn’t care about the men who demanded he smoke outside their bed. it wasn’t about life or death or any other existential bull. it was about ghost — always about ghost.
ghost smoked in the same spot, at the same time every night. he’d pull the mask up, place the filter between his teeth and smoke two, three cigs before heading back to his designated room. soap would watch, taking a seat far too close to him, and wish those lips were against his instead of the menthol.
all he could do was watch as ghost lifted his big hands to cup the flame, orange light flickering dangerously in those deep, whiskey-colored eyes, and hope the other man couldn’t hear the way his heart pounded behind his ribs. all he could do was watch as ghost took a deep breath, letting the grey smoke linger in his body, before he let it go to float away in the gentle night breeze, muscles relaxing in a way they never did unless nicotine rotted his gums and johnny’s thigh was pressed against his
soap would muse, tiredly, that smoking wasn’t so bittersweet when simon lazily turned and grinned down at him before blowing the smoke in his face.
he’d take anything he could get, even if it was only second hand.
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i love dndads day, because for the next 2 to 3 days i can scroll through the tags and reblog all of my silly mutuals posts and tell them my thoughts on every single detail i liked and i will have the most fun time of my life
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i can't stop thinking about the whole episode where a major point of conflict was that neither sam nor dean know ancient greek (the slice girls) and then exactly one season later dean is reading ancient greek without issue (remember the titans). like which am i supposed to believe here: the showrunners forgot that they're not supposed to know ancient greek in the span of 26 episodes, OR that dean canonically learned enough ancient greek to read old documents in the span of 26 episodes??? this is more important to me than it probably should be
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just found this mag and i love itttt it's in the mood a magazine about media and they have a page with the names of the films that's linked to the stuff like essays or poetry or reviews written abt said films (< forgot how to explain anything coherently) somehow they dont have anything on ginger snaps rn tho
^^ like so! i think u guys might like to read stuff or submit to this or whatever, havent worked w/ them or anything so idk how they handle submissions ive just been enjoying reading thru the names i recognize
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