i am not fancy

Friendly reminder that Yuuri is the top skater of the Japanese Skating Federation and he is literally

the face of figure skating on their website.

And in case you want close-ups:

They’re pretty good shots, too.

So yeah, in case you weren’t sure how big Yuuri was in Japan - he is literally the biggest, the best male figure skater in the country. Sort of puts things into perspective, doesn’t it?

Mental Illness in the Horror Genre

Something that pissed me off the other day.

Talking to a guy who knows my parents but doesn’t know me very well, and he tells me that his friend (indeed, a very nice and talented actor) recently put out a horror movie. And I’m interested until I hear the words “So it’s about this guy with OCD…” and at that point my mom and I give each other a sidelong glance.

I say, “I don’t know, because I have OCD and it’s a pretty serious thing for me.”

To which he follows up, “Oh, you don’t have it like this guy! You’re totally functional!”

Okay, dude. Yes, I am standing before you in a fancy club, dressed nice, and looking relatively balanced. But you do not know me. You do not know OCD.

You do not know that I have been non-functional, and that in order to maintain my current balance of sanity, I take daily medication and see a weekly therapist, and I still have downward spirals and panic attacks.

OCD can add to a story, for sure. The Aviator is a great example–albeit, it was on the voyeuristic side, kind of “check out what a weirdo this guy really is”, but his condition was portrayed in a realistic and *sympathetic* manner, because it focused so hard on his anxiety and entrapment.

I don’t need a horror movie about my disorder for a couple reasons.
1. I already live the horror movie that is OCD.
2. Just like people with psychosis, schizophrenia/schizotypal disorders, dissociative identity disorders, and any other number of mental disorder that makes us act in unusual and yes, sometimes frightening ways, I don’t need it to be the hinge for your horror flick, a handy device that makes more people like you scared and misunderstanding of people like me.
3. And for people with the above disorders who may not be diagnosed, they don’t need to be told that they are dangerous monsters and cause them to avoid treatment out of fear. (This goes double for people who experience paranoia or delusions as part of their symptoms.)

This post ended up way longer than I meant, but really, truly, hear me out creators:

MENTAL ILLNESS IS A TRAIT AMONG AN INFINITE VARIETY OF PEOPLE. IT IS NOT A CHARACTER FLAW, AND IT IS DEFINITELY A POOR PLOT DEVICE FOR THE HORROR GENRE. YOU CAN DO BETTER.

OK SO

pretty painting huh?

BUT

and not just one but look

 

at

this

 

HOW AM

I SUPPOSED

TO

DO THIS

but seriously

Looking at you sir lawrence alma-tadema

nope, are YOU kidding me

and it

just

doesn’t stop

 

I am

honestly so sorry but

classical degree done good

for sure

sshh he sleep

6

Bonus:

I am…pregnant. 

What do you fancy boy or a girl?

I dunno, it doesn’t matter. Although, l suppose I’ve always had the fantasy of a son.

artistsapprentice  asked:

If you're taking requests, can you please do a myth about one of the primordial Greek gods, like Nyx?

I absolutely can, although maybe not Nyx, as she’s not often the central character in the surviving myths we have, which honestly does not do justice to her role as namesake of my favourite makeup brand. Instead, I have written about the births of Kronos and Zeus, because Nyx makes a fleeting appearance and also most of the gods are primordial (primordial douchebags, am I right? I’m totally right.)

If you don’t fancy reading about nubile oiled men, the importance of good table manners, and the origins of Wolverine from X-Men, feel free to skip by pressing J on your keyboard. Extra context and literary stuff under the cut, as always!

And the Father of the Year Award Goes to Absolutely No-one

Before the world came to be, there was something. We’ll call it Chaos, because that’s what it was called, but it wasn’t like, chaos chaos, like when you’re running late for work and the toaster starts ballsing up and then suddenly the cat’s puking into your shoes and your mother’s phoning to tell you that your father is actually your uncle. It was more of a chasm, like a kind of tangible nothingness, made up of the elements of everything which would later become actual stuff, like the sea and the sky and sprouts, which actually sounds kind of rad, except there was no-one there to appreciate just how poetic it all was.

Except one day, something just kind of happens, and suddenly there’s someone there, and her name is Gaea, and she is the Earth. Like, literally. She is what we would now recognise as a planet. Which is fine. Real women have curves, etc.

Now, at this point, Gaea is just kind of hanging around by herself, when along comes Tartarus, who is the primordial divine personification of a realm of eternal torture and pain and is probably really shit at parties, and Gaea decides that Tartarus isn’t really the ideal best friend. She really can’t imagine having slumber parties with Tartarus and braiding each other’s hair over all the haunting wails of the dead. She’s kind of happy to have company, but being stuck with Tartarus is sort of like when you turn up late to a party and have to hang around by yourself for a while until some white guy with dreads shows up and starts talking about capitalism; it’s slightly better than loneliness, but not much, and also it makes you want to drink more.

So, one day she’s like “it’s kind of lonely here in the middle of nowhere with only a torturous realm for company, this is like living in Wales and frankly I won’t stand for it,” and then bam, she’s not alone anymore, because the void has spat out a new companion and this exceptionally hot dude is standing there, and he’s butt-naked and all toned and curved and probably oiled, because this myth is from Ancient Greece, and Gaea is like “holy buttocks, who in Chaos are you?” and the beautiful man just sighs wearily and says “I’m Eros, and I’m literally here for the sole purpose of making people want to do unspeakable things to one another.” Gaea pseudo-frowns and she’s like “what kind of unspeakable things, because if you mean relentless murder and ceaseless slaughter, then honestly, I think that’s just in my blood, I’m an Ancient Greek deity,” and Eros is like “have you ever wanted to just lie someone down and cover them in chocolate sauce?” and Gaea metaphorically wrinkles her proverbial nose and she’s like “no, that sounds unsanitary and also I’m a planet,” and then Eros clicks his fingers and says “how about now?” and Gaea does this weird little shiver thing, probably dislodging mountains and causing tectonic plates to collide like bodies on a dancefloor, and she’s like “do that again,” and Eros takes a few steps back and he’s all “no offence, but I’m the only other guy here, and I’m really more of a peanut butter guy myself.”

Then Gaea is like “as fantastic as those few moments of delight were, what’s the actual point? Like, why is it so important that people get the urge to do unspeakable things to each other up against barnyard doors? I mean, we were both just sort of born out of the ether with no need for body parts rubbing and touching in any pleasing way whatsoever, so why can’t things just carry on like that? What’s the need for the horizontal tango?” and Eros just shrugs and waves his sculpted arms a bit and says “plot holes, no pun intended.”

After a while, other things start to appear, like night (Nyx) and day (Hemera) and the realm of eternal, unflinching darkness, known as Erebos, and eventually Gaea just gets tired of having all these things floating around her like One Direction fans outside an arena, and so she does the only thing she can do, seeing as privacy screens haven’t been invented yet, and she gives birth to the sky and uses it as a makeshift veil. The sky’s name is Uranus, and, as it turns out, he’s virile as hell, because pretty soon he’s impregnated Gaea, and she gives birth to Oceanus, who is the divine personification of the sea, which means he’s totally wet and basically hates conflict, and then she gives birth to Kronos. Like his brother Oceanus, he’s a Titan, which means that he is part of the race of elder gods, along with their older siblings, including Thea, Rhea, Hyperion and Iapetos, among others, because condoms haven’t been invented yet, and let’s be honest, Uranus is totally the kind of guy who’d pretend that he couldn’t use them for reasons of girth.

Then, because this family isn’t fucked up enough already, Gaea gives birth to three giant monsters, the Hecatoncheires, who all have a hundred hands and fifty heads and can also control storms, which makes me wonder why they cast Halle Berry in X-Men and not just a hideous CGI conglomerate, and then she (Gaea, not Halle Berry) gives birth to three more monsters, each with one eye, called the Cyclopes. When Uranus sees his six new beautiful children, he’s all “wow, those came out of you? They must take after your side of the family,” and Gaea says “technically, you ARE my side of the family, sonsband,” and Uranus is like “shit, yeah, this is probably why incest is frowned upon, isn’t it? Anyway, I think you should just put them all back, to be honest,” and Gaea is like “what do you mean ‘put them all back’?” and Uranus is like “well, you know, back up the ol’ pipe,” and Gaea is like “say ‘pipe’ one more time and I’ll shove something up yours,” nobly resisting the urge to make a pun on his name, but Uranus is like “sorry, can’t hear you, I’m too busy shoving these gigantic monster children back into your womb,” and he’s not even lying.

Obviously, this causes Gaea some Problems, and so she decides that maybe it’s time to get rid of Uranus. When he’s asleep, probably dreaming about changing his name by deed poll, she gathers together all of her children – the ones who aren’t currently rolling around in her uterus, anyway – and she’s all “look, I’m going to level with you here. Your father is a dick. I could do so much better. I deserve Ryan Gosling, not some dude who thinks it’s OK to use my birth canal as a storage locker. I need your help, kids,” and then she takes out this absolutely massive sickle, and she says “this sickle is made of adamant, which is a radical new element that I made for this specific purpose. It’s stronger than Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson after a meal of spinach, and without meaning to blow my own trumpet, it really is the goddamn poodle’s privates. Like, if I were to create my own super powered mutant soldier, I’d probably coat his bones with this shit and maybe make him some awesome claws of the same stuff, because this? This stuff is nearly unbreakable. It’s totally fit for purpose,” and then her kids are like “by ‘purpose’, do you mean that you want us to use that sickle on our father?” and Gaea nods sagely and she’s like “I want you to use it all over him,” and her kids confer with one another, drawing some diagrams and making detailed notes, and then they turn back to her and say in unison “nope.”

Except they don’t say it completely in unison, because Kronos, the youngest of her Titan children, pipes up like “I know what needs to be done, grandma-mother,” and Gaea says “do you?” and Kronos nods and says “I do. I know exactly what you want me to do, 100%. I understand your plan completely. I volunteer,” and Gaea places her hand firmly on Kronos’ shoulder and grins and she’s like “grandson-son, let us put our shared plan into action,” and Kronos takes the sickle and he’s like “you can count on me, grandma-mother, I won’t let you down,” and Gaea probably just groans a bit because she’s still full of monster children.

Later that night, Uranus comes over to Gaea for a night of nocturnal naughtiness, and he’s about to cock his leg in a jaunty and arousing manner and be like “let us kiss with tongues, mother-wife,” when he hears this battle cry from behind him, and before he can turn around to see what the fuck is going on, Kronos has leapt on him with this massive sickle, and then Kronos raises the sickle above his big Titan head and brings it down in a swooping arc, right on Uranus’ dick. Like, that’s it. He just cuts it clean off, severing it right at the base, then throws it over his shoulder like salt in the Devil’s face, and Uranus just starts sobbing and says “for a Titan, that really wasn’t tight at all. I knew that having kids would be difficult, but this just absolutely takes the proverbial biscuit,” and he leaves, because there’s not a lot else he can do, really.

When he’s gone, Gaea turns to Kronos and she’s just like “you cut his dick off?” and Kronos nods proudly and says “our plan has come to fruition, mother,” and Gaea rolls her eyes and she’s like “I was thinking more along the lines of ruthless patricide, but I guess your idea also worked,” and Kronos wrinkles his nose and he’s all “what kind of monster would kill their own father? Balls or no balls, I still need the old guy to teach me how to throw a ball, y’know,” and Gaea just rolls her eyes and she’s about to make some remark about how a good father probably wouldn’t shove his kids back inside their mother, when Uranus’ testicles, which have landed in the sea, start to foam, and from the dick foam this beautiful woman emerges, and she’s like “I need two things. Firstly, I need a bath, because honestly, natural childbirth has absolutely nothing on what just happened to me, and secondly, I need a dry martini and a nubile young man,” and Gaea is all “literally who the fuck are you?” and the woman is like “I’m Aphrodite, and I really want to just reiterate that I’m covered in dick foam, so can we keep this conversation as brief as possible, like three seconds max” and Kronos is like “go to Cyprus, there are baths there beyond your wildest dreams,” and Aphrodite goes to Cyprus and presumably bathes in bleach for about three years.

Meanwhile, Uranus, hiding away in shame and anger, mutters under his breath something very sinister, something along the lines of “I hereby prophesy that the end of the Titans shall fall very soon, as they are overthrown by their own treacherous children and punished for their sins, signed Uranus xoxo.”

A whole bunch of time passes, and honestly, what happens next is incredibly complicated and involves more birth scenes than a director’s cut of Alien, but in a nutshell, a whole bunch of gods book a hotel room with each other, producing generations of gods, nymphs and other creatures. Kronos himself marries Rhea, his sister, and the two of them have a whole bunch of children, including Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Poseidon and Hades. Now, you’d think that Kronos, having seen the effect that bad parenting can have on a marriage and indeed a penis, might be a better father to his own kids than Uranus had been to him. You would be wrong. In fact, Kronos takes fatherhood to new lows. Having heard Uranus’ prophecy that he is fated to be overthrown by his own son, Kronos takes a leaf out of his father’s book and decides that the best place for his children is inside their parent. However, unlike Uranus, Kronos doesn’t put them back inside their mother; presumably remembering how THAT had turned out, he puts them inside himself instead, and swallows them whole, barely even tasting them. Honestly, I’m not sure why he didn’t chew them first, but whatever. He doesn’t.

After her brother-husband has eaten five of her children, Rhea begins to get a bit fed up (and honestly, why it took five attempts for her to get sick of this shit, I also have no idea; clearly, neither of them are Parent of the Year). So, when she becomes pregnant for the sixth time, she finds her mother-mother-in-law, Gaea, and she’s like “look, I know that Kronos was always your favourite son because of the time he helped you chop off dad’s dick, but now Kronos is BEING a dick, and I need your help,” and Gaea is like “Kronos stopped being my favourite child the moment he copied his dad and internalised his children. If only he could have taken after his mother more, and been awesome and totally opposed to infanticide. Well, I’ll tell you what; that son you’re carrying is going to save you from a life of matrimonial fatigue, but you have to do a couple of things first,” and Rhea says “just tell me what to do,” and Gaea is like “you have to run away, give birth in a magic cave, and pretend that your son is a rock,” and Rhea just sighs and she’s like “honestly, my kids are probably better inside Kronos’ digestive tract and away from this family unit,” but she does what Gaea asks.

So, when Rhea has given birth to her son – whom she names Zeus, which is a name you may be familiar with – she finds a huge rock and swaddles it, dressing it in a fetching babygro with the motif ‘DADDY’S LITTLE FLESH CHILD, MUMMY’S LITTLE NOT-A-GEODE’ and hands it to Kronos. Kronos takes one look at the rock and says “this baby has my eyes, darling,” and then promptly swallows it whole, completely falling for the trick, believing that he’s swallowed his fifth child. Rhea, presumably wondering if Kronos and the rock have more in common than she first thought, goes off to raise her baby in secret.

After a while, yet more time passes and Zeus grows up into an absolutely strapping young god, all bearded and muscled and, most importantly, not swilling around inside Kronos’ bowels, and Gaea is like “OK, grandson. The prophecy says that you will overthrow your father, so the first thing to do is to make him throw up,” and Zeus is like “why would I do that? When dad overthrew HIS dad, he got to use a phenomenal sickle, and I just get to use a bit of bad ham?” and Gaea says “firstly, you’re right, that sickle was fucking sick, and secondly, your father never chewed his food, and you have a few siblings who are probably very grateful for that, although honestly they’d be a tad less grateful if they’d ever had to sit opposite him at dinner, rather than inside him,” and so Zeus goes off to find Kronos.

When he finds him, he slips him an emetic herb, and Kronos immediately throws up his children, all covered in stomach slime but still alive and fully grown. Zeus is like “hey siblings, I’m Zeus, and honestly, I will never fully comprehend what you have been through, but I hope we can bond over this experience anyway,” and Hades is like “I think there’s a bit of partially digested carrot in my hair,” and Hera says “no, that’s just stomach lining, but you do have something unspeakable on your shoulder,” and Demeter says “thanks for saving us, Zeus, but dad looks super pissed that you just made him throw up his children,” and Kronos mutters “and that great bit of roast ham that I had for lunch.”

Zeus just shrugs and he’s like “well, there’s this prophecy which says that dad’s going to look defeat right in the face very soon and I’m going to be the one who puts it there, so honestly, I’m going to just let him have this one. I’d probably be angry too, if someone gave me a prophecy which told me that my child would overthrow me and I subsequently internalised that child for my own protection and suzerainty, only to have the child break free from my body somehow. Boy, that would really blow.“

Glaring at his family, just about managing to speak through his anger, Kronos snarls “you know what this means, son?” and Zeus sets his jaw into a rigid line, pushes his shoulders back so that his biceps look particularly rugged in his favourite white tank top, and then he digs into the pocket of his skinny black jeans and pops a tooth-pick into his mouth, chewing it with a pensive look on his face, and after a few tense seconds have passed, during which Kronos is just clenching his fists and trembling with unspent fury, Zeus says “yes, dad. This means war.”

My other retellings can be found here; my mythology blog is here; and my Mythology Mondays Facebook page is here. Thrilling.

(Keep reading link for mobile, as the app breaks the link)

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The Simple Things Aren’t Always So Simple

A/N: So my dear good friend @spntrista tells me in great detail about a dream she had about Jensen last night. It has inspired this. Let’s all remember that this is FICTION and I do not in ANYWAY condone cheating on your spouse or partner. This is simply a work of fiction, please regard it as such. I mean no disrespect to Jensen or his family. Thank you.  

Word Count: 4185

Warnings: implied smut and cheating

Originally posted by uuuhshiny

My name is Y/N. I am a nanny. I’m nothing fancy. I am a simple girl. I like simple things. I like white wine and game nights. I like tea and quiet mornings.  The people I work for, on the other hand, are anything but simple.

I was sitting alone in my apartment, enjoying the quiet when my phone rang. It was an local number but I did not know who it was and considered letting it go to voicemail, but curiosity got the better of me and I answered, after all, my bills were paid and the election was over, how bad could it be?

“Hello?” I chirped as I paused Netflix.

Y/N? My name is Genevieve Padalecki. You don’t know me, but I got your info and references from Stephen Amell. I am in need of a nanny, temporarily.” She spoke rather rapidly.

Genevieve Padalecki was calling me. I was slightly shellshocked as I looked up at my television, paused on Jared Padalecki, since my binge of choice today had been ‘Supernatural.’

“Hi Genevieve. How long are you looking for?” I questioned.

“Please, call me Gen. Well, here is the thing, Y/N. We are all at the Cowboys game right now. Can you come down to the stadium and meet us? I can leave you a ticket. But since we always have so many people milling around the house, I would like to meet you in a group environment first. I know it sounds weird.” Gen chuckled.

“Yes, I can do that. I can be there within the hour.” I replied, turning off the television and placing my cup in the sink.

“Oh, thank you so much. I will leave a ticket for you at willcall. Text me when you get here. Bye!” Gen ended the call and I went to make myself presentable for meeting my new potential employers. I got ready, left my apartment and arrived at the stadium in less than thirty minutes. Traffic is easy once the game as already started.

I texted Gen as I walked to the will call booth, mentally preparing myself to meet two people I had watched for years. I wanted to be my professional self, but my fangirl was really pushy sometimes.. Once I had my ticket in hand, I waited for her to meet me at the main entrance. My nerves started to get the better of me but before I could text her back and tell her I wasn’t available, I heard her call my name.

“Y/N! You made it so quickly! I am Gen Padalecki. It is so nice to meet you. Stephen had wonderful things to say about you and how good you were with his daughter. I am so sorry to spring this on you but our nanny just quit because she got married and her husband is being relocated.” Gen explained.

We carried on pleasant conversation until we reached the suite level and literally bumped into Danneel Ackles coming out of the restroom. Holy Shit! If Danneel is here, that means Jensen is here. Jensen Freaking Ackles. My mouth immediately went dry.

“Danni, this is Y/N. The nanny that Stephen recommended.” Gen stated.

“Nice to meet you Danneel.” I extended my hand, hoping it wasn’t clammy with as nervous as I was now. I was plenty nervous before but now, knowing the Ackles were here with the Padalecki’s, I was terrified.  I was fighting so hard to keep my composure. God, she really was beautiful, but she looked a little stressed.

We walked into the suite and Gen introduced me to Jared, who in lieu of a handshake, embraced me tightly.

“I already like you. Come on, sit down, let me get you a beer. You do drink beer, right?’ He joked.

“Yes, Jared, I drink beer. I would love one, thank you.” I laughed. He was just like I imagined he would be; an excited, overgrown puppy.

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Seeing

I have no freaking idea what is happening or what I am doing. I woke up this morning and wrote this down. I am scared shitless but @therobbinsnest told me to “GET UP AND STOP HIDING” so that is what I am doing….. I’m not fancy enough to know how to put things or post things…I just read and read and read and now I’m hyperventilating so there’s that too….oh and my hands are shaking and I’m going to barf up my own heart as soon as I push post….so ta-da!

This is my first ever fan-fic story. Written, posted. The whole nine yards.

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