everyone-screams

  • teacher:why weren't you at school today?
  • me:do you ever think about how much stick must have damaged matt emotionally? i mean here's a kid who's maybe 11 or 12, recently blinded and trying to cope with the death of the one person who really loved him. he's completely overwhelmed by his senses to the point of agony. can you imagine having everything too loud all the time? feeling like everyone's screaming? even soft cotton sheets are too rough for him. he's beyond vulnerable, and finally he meets someone else who's like him, someone who can show him how to control his abilities. so he does what any regular kid would do - he reaches out to the one person in his life who seems to care about him at all. and what happens? stick abandons him, essentially punishing him for showing any kind of healthy emotional attachment. how do you think matt reacted? did he refuse to get close to anyone or form any friendships because he believed if he loved someone, they'd leave him? given his experience with his father and stick, that wouldn't be a big leap. do you think matt had any real friends before he met foggy? and was he resistant to bonding with foggy? did foggy have to keep trying to be his friend until matt finally caved? why did foggy keep trying? did he sense that matt needed a friend? is this why matt has never had any long lasting romantic relationships? when will matt learn to accept love?
so, my fannibal friends

those who have been watching since s1 or s2. what’s it like on tumblr when hannibal is actually airing? is it basically everyone incoherently screaming at each other in all caps the day the episode airs and a couple of days after, then calming down somewhat and giffing and metaing and whatnot until the next one airs?

April 28

Remember when I used to write for fun? That was fun. 

A friend I still like, but rarely see, once said she could gauge my love life by how often I wrote here. This scared the shit out of me. Everything is exciting and colorful and pretty. On Saturday night HER/LA, the feminist pop up festival I’ve been planning with Laura, took place in hollywood. The event sold out days before and we made over 2k, plus $500 in bar tips that we donated to our friend’s childrens charity. It was… Amazing. Stressful. Scary. Overwhelming. Kinda made me wanna scream at everyone and get drunk. Event planning is probably not my calling. I don’t like answering common sense questions. I only speak in declarative sentences and this makes some people uncomfortable. I respond to passive aggression with flat out aggression. 

But when it was good, it was really good. Like when Morgan twirled me around in front of the band while the crowd watch, envious of how little we cared about looking cool. Or when Lauren pulled me into the soundbooth to make out. Or climbing up a ladder and looking down on the crowd with Lauren and Laura. Yes, I threw an event with blonde Laura and brough bawt Lauren as a date and hung out with brunette Laura. We’ll call them bae Lauren, blonde Laura, and brunette Laura for clarity. 

Lauren whispers sweet nothings into my ear and wants to fuck me 8 times a day. Even when I want to watch netflix. Sometimes when we’re kissing and I pause for breathe and she beams. No one smiles like Lauren. Like all she feels is joy. Like I’m what makes her happiest. Like I hold a candle to her. She was the perfect date, standing by my side when I needed affection, chatting easily with everyone when I was running around, impressing them all with her poise, beauty, sweetness. Everyone likes Lauren. Lauren leaves for a month in May. I don’t know what will happen. 

Last week I woke up in Lauren’s bed but she wasn’t beside me. She was laying on the floor in a white t shirt sketching with charcoal. Sketching me. “You’re up” she said with that Lauren grin and brought me tea and kissed me for hours. We climbed on the roof and watched Echo Park come to life. It was nice. 

None of the roommate applicants really appealed to me, so I settled on renting the room to a nice french guy who is interning at universal until july. Silver lining I won’t be stuck with anyone loathsome. Shit lining I have to do this again in June. 

In June I turn 26. My health insurance will run out. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Bad things are going to happen. Again. Bad things always happen. Then good. Then bad. Then good. Then bad. It’s exhausting. I am exhausted. No matter how beautiful my friends and fucks and romance are, the niggling realities of survival and omnipresent possibility of not making ends meet keep my mind from ever being truly at ease. 

I rewrote my script but it still wasn’t good enough. Everyone says I’m good but good isn’t good enough. I am not enough. Saturday was a triumph, the prom I never had. In 4 months I wrote 2 scripts. People like my articles. The best girl in the world likes me a stupid amount. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. That’s the problem with me. That’s the best part of me. That’s going to be the end of me. 

Who’s Afraid of a Little, White Rat?


Trigger warning.

Cab Sauv #6 on Christmas Eve
Burgundy syrup in their heaviest crystals
Swollen, sloshing guts
Sloshing from shaking cabinets, rattles, wailing infants
They all recall, but won’t recant.

A glass falls on the white carpet, and
It bounces like a crash test dummy, and rolls, and stops
Conscious of Mom looming—
Mom always bought white carpets but became enraged when they were stained—
Conscious of Mom screaming—
Hundreds of frames of Mom screaming—
Everyone gulps ‘til they can’t stomach more—
The shards—the shards won’t wash down—
Mom orders more white carpet.

Now the mouths are stained, gaping
Wielding thrumming uvulas
Metronomes of lost patience
The old, red clock that clicked its tongue when Dad still wasn’t home
Mom’s pacing rubber slippers wagging their tongues, too
Bloody teeth needing more flesh to sink into—
Bloody from bitten gums.

Bladders beckon the bathroom—
The bathroom with the decorative towels
That cover wall holes
Where Daughter #1 hid her marijuana.
Mom yelled when Dad dried his hands with her decorations.
Dad protested that towels should not be decorative—
Protested in a special language
Of distant thumps
And bruises smeared with makeup
And Daughter #1 hid more marijuana
And Mom bought more decorative towels.

Son wanted to run, but only knew
How to run to the bathroom.
Daughter #2 read books
About a little, white rat
Who blew a whole house down:
A whole house
In a baby’s brain.

This is what happens when you try to get little kids to line up for a picture… Suga is screaming at Tanaka for being too close, and then screams at Tsukki and Yamaguchi for being too far. Daichi is screaming for everyone to listen up. Asahi is chilling. Hinata is defying gravity. Kageyama is probably going to pulverize him soon. And only the Crow God knows where Noya is running. 

From the Anime Official Guidebook

spencejsmith: PO era and flower crowns and ryan ross are made for each other (you can post this one if you like)

you’re the kind of person this world needs

imagine that Iwaizumi is the only person on the team that is not afraid of bugs

and one day, the day that iwaizumi is late for practice, the team saw a cockroach whilst changing and everyone proceeds to scream and lock themselves out of the clubroom regardless whether they’re fully clothed or not

and Hanamaki yells “OIKAWA JUST CALL IWAIZUMI TELL HIM TO HURRY UP IM HALF NAKED AND THAT CREATURE CAN BE ALL OVER MY UNIFORM”

and when iwa gets there everyone is outside and iwaizumi goes inside and kills it for them before going out and saying

“Y'all 180cm and taller guys scared of cockroaches how cute”