she's dressing up as

live through this

After Kurt died, Courtney’s name was on everyone’s lips. Some people felt sorry for Courtney, but most people hated her for it. They blamed her. People conspiracy-theorized that she’d killed him, or had him killed. Others blamed her in a more indirect way, blamed her for not getting him off drugs or for not getting him enough help with his depression (not understanding that you can’t always save someone from their own pain, no matter how much you love them), or claimed she had driven him so crazy that he’d killed himself. It was easy to hate Courtney, to make her into the scape-girl, because she was loud and angry, because she did drugs, because she had ratty bleached hair and wore ripped-up dresses and smeared red lipstick. She was easy to hate because she played balls-out heavy rock’n’roll, because she did whatever the fuck she wanted. Because she wasn’t some silent sweet thing. Because god forbid we blame a man for his own actions - if he screws up his life, or ends it, it’s because a woman drove him to it, some Yoko Nancy Courtney succubus who was hungry for money, for drugs, for fame, for love. And then Live Through This came out, a week after Kurt’s death, and that made the people who already hated her more furious: as though it were all a gruesome publicity stunt, as though she’d somehow planned the whole thing, planned to have her album drop right after the love of her life fucking killed himself.

I didn’t know much about Courtney, other than what the media and my peers said about her. I’d only heard a couple Hole songs. I did know that I found her intriguing. The things about her that other people hated, like her wild, punk rock Alice in Wonderland style and her brash attitude, I liked those. I thought they were glorious. In some unnamed part of me, I thought she was the sort of person I’d like to be. And then, about a month after Live Through This was released, this alterna-goth-punk grrrl befriended me. My school was a middle school and high school, combined. I was nearing the end of my 6th grade year, and this girl, she was finishing up 9th grade. I never could figure out why she was nice to me - she seemed light-years ahead of me in terms of coolness and experience. Maybe she felt sorry for me, since most of the kids in my grade made fun of the way I looked, the way I walked, the way I existed. Maybe she saw in me a younger version of herself. Whatever the reason, she was so nice to me. When she saw me in the hallway between classes or during lunch or free period, she complimented me on my clothes, or the book I was reading, or she asked me what I was writing in my hateful notebook. She told me it was rad that I kept a journal and wrote poetry. “You should write a zine,” she told me. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it,” I said. One day, we got to talking about music. I mentioned some of my favorites: Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins, The Cure, Green Day, Operation Ivy. Later that week, she gave me a mix tape of some of her favorites, bands she thought I’d like based on the ones I’d mentioned. I shook with excitement when she handed me the cassette - no one had ever made me a tape before - and I put it in my boombox as soon as I got home. The whole tape was great: Sonic Youth, Soundgarden, 7 Year Bitch, Babes In Toyland, Mudhoney, Nine Inch Nails, Tori Amos, Pixies, Jawbreaker, Hole… I grew to love most of those bands in the coming months and years, but the songs that hit me upon first listen were the Hole songs she’d chosen: “Violet” and “Miss World.” And the sky was made of amethyst / I am the girl you know can’t look you in the eye. The next day, I told her how much I loved the Hole songs, and by the end of the week, she’d dubbed me a copy of Live Through This.

That album was a revelation. It was a horrific fairytale, images of purple skies and roses white and red butting up against kill-me-pills and pieces of a girl in a box by the bed. It was a huge, dark sound, a tale of disillusionment and sorrow and fear, and also desire (desire for sex, for love, for everything). It was my desire and darkness, like someone had yanked it up out of my guts and made it into this music that sounded like dried flower petals wrapped in broken glass. I ripped a couple of my old dresses to shreds, and I tried them on in front of my mirror. I smeared red lipstick on my lips and let my hair tangle. Shreds and smears and tatters, I stood in front of my mirror, and screamed along with Courtney. I want to be the girl with the most cake. (And someday, you will ache like I ache.)

-Jessie Lynn McMains, from Reckless Chants #22 (2015)

peepeetah  asked:

Logan/Madison please! 💑 They are my fave beta couple in The Freshman! 📚

Logan & Madison

Basketball and Lace

Who is a night owl:

She thinks they fall asleep together. After she kisses Logan good night and drifts off to sleep in his arms, he waits for her breathing to deepen. Then slowly, sneakily, he slips his arm out from under her golden hair and tiptoes to the living room. He turns on the TV, fires up the console and puts on his headphones. He grab his controller. Let the games begin.

Who is a morning person:

Madison is as bright and bubbly as everyone expects her to be each morning. She’s up at 6 am sharp, then goes about her beauty routine - a glass of lemon water to welcome the day, 10 minutes of meditation, a 30-minute aerobic workout, then a quick shower. By the time she’s all dressed up from signature necklace to peep-toe shoes, Logan is still sprawled all over their bed, snoring with his mouth open.

Are they cuddlers:

They sure are! Madison comes up to his shoulders, so she loves running to him and jumping into his arms. Her face lands right on his chest, a spot she has claimed to be hers and hers alone.

Who is the big spoon and who is the little spoon:

Madison is the big spoon. When the two of them are alone, Logan lets go of his football swagger and loves being babied by Madison. She loves wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders, feeling like his guardian angel. Logan does think of her as his angel.

What is their favourite sleeping position:

They love falling asleep right after getting steamy. They’ll drift off to sleep no matter what part of the bed they are, even if it’s by the foot of the bed. For as long as they’re skin to skin, any sleeping position is their favorite.

Who steals all the blankets:

Logan is a big baby when it comes to blankets. He hogs it, hoards it, likes to cover himself from head to toe. Madison wouldn’t be so upset if he didn’t use her pink floral blanket. He likes how fuzzy it is. She plans to surprise him with his own fuzzy blanket on his birthday so she can finally reclaim hers.

What they wear to bed:

Logan always wears a plain white shirt and basketball shorts. Madison always wears a frilly pink nightie. Madison has tried getting Logan into silk pajamas so she can wear matching ones, but he refuses.

Who likes seeing the other wearing their t-shirt:

As much as Logan wants Madison to wear his shirts, she refuses to do so, regarding them shapeless and unflattering to her figure. He’s dropped hints she’d look hot in it, but she refused to give in to his fantasy, making up for it instead with a lacy pink bra and thong. There were no complaints from Logan.

Who falls asleep mid-conversation:

Madison does. Sometimes Logan feels his girlfriend talks too much. But he’d rather she keep on talking then not at all. When she doesn’t talk it’s usually because she’s mad. At him.

Who wakes up in the middle of the night with nightmares:

Logan does, dreaming of zombies and the apocalypse. Madison has told him to stop playing video games so late into the night. He laughs it off, even if he can’t go back to sleep anymore.

Who accidentally punched the other in their sleep:

This has not happened to them.

Who can’t keep their hands to themselves:

They’re pretty good with self-control. But once permission is given, their fingers trail all over each other’s bodies, and it is always Logan who’s first to give in.

Good for them! Their body, their life, their choice!

Honestly she looks very mature for her age. It says 16 but you can tell she acts 26

OMG her baby is going to be so beautiful. She does such a good job on her hair and makeup and everything. You know she is going to be a well organized, attentive and loving mother! Good for her!

Omg she looks like a doll. I bet she is going to love her daughter so much and dress her up super super cute. Teen moms can be good moms! Stop with the hate!


Sombra didn’t know what she expected from a man clad in leather and an owl-like skull mask. (my own shitposting about sombra inspired this)

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.
Move on, leave, run away, escape this place… but don’t forget about me, about us, about this town. Always remember where you come from so you can appreciate how far you’ve come.
—  c.j.n.