that one hits home

The signs as things people have said to me (part II)
  • Aries: oh so you can dangerously climb up that tree in the dark but suddenly I'm not allowed to go down a slide because it's for kids? Fuck you watch me
  • Taurus: okay but if it's not dark yet then is it actually 9pm or is it all just folklore? An old wives' tale if you may.
  • Gemini: so I just basically lied to him like 8 times
  • Cancer: DONT CROSS THE ROAD IF ITS NOT AT A PROPER CROSSING YOU ABSOLUTE MONG WHAT WOULD I TELL YOUR MUM IF YOU DIED ON MY WATCH
  • Leo: I'm sorry for getting lipstick on your jumper. To be fair it's kinda your fault for wearing white
  • Virgo: I'm good at sharing if it's yours but if it's mine stay the fuck away from me bitch
  • Libra: bruv he's sooo into you look at him staring at you oh wait no which one are we talking about?
  • Scorpio: he's a fucking DAD! And he's like 40! Okay yeah I do see the appeal
  • Sagittarius: I just feel like dying for a bit but I don't think there's like any cool stuff in the afterlife (like what) idk like lego
  • Capricorn: so exams? Studying? All that just a myth yeah? We just gonna hang and watch Boy Meets World all day instead?
  • Aquarius: yeah I did have a near death experience. Huh? No I didn't die I was sleeping I think
  • Pisces: just talk to him (about what) just say like... idk wanna get Starbucks sometime? (He works at Starbucks u div) oh... costa?
2

“..that they will also understand that there is life after whatever they’re feeling, there is life after high school, there is life after that exam, there is life after that party, or that photo, or you know…that boy. There is– there’s always gonna be more.”

- Katherine Langford on 13 Reasons Why  (x)

2

Ven… He was here…

10

“Your mother was a housewife! Why couldn’t you swallow your goddamn pride and just come home to her? You tell me why!”

      One of my favourite things about the Orphan Black finale is that, despite the happy ending, Sarah is still not completely alright. She doesn’t have Mrs. S anymore and without the constant life-threatening situations, is scared of things going back to the way they were before she found Beth and stole her identity. The adrenaline has worn off and she no longer knows what to do and fears going back to her old bad habits. She skips out on her high school exam, tries to sell the house, and isolates herself. 

       She sees other people being happy with the lives they could go back to but doesn’t know how to do that and doesn’t want to burden them. And it’s painful to watch but it’s realistic. So often on television we see characters go on traumatic journeys and be perfectly alright once they’re over. We see the credits roll and assume all is well. But that’s not always the case in real life. Trauma follows you sometimes, like a shadow from another room. It’s not all consuming, but it never quite leaves and it wears you down over time. Often to the point where you feel like a hollow shell. You force yourself to be happy for others but quietly resenting them because they don’t understand what you’re going through and you’re too exhausted to reach out to them so you get caught in a vicious, often destructive, cycle. And we see this here with Sarah. Not only that, but we see her start to break out of it as well.

      Sarah has an excellent support network of her sisters. Not only are they there, but they reach out to her. They listen to her, share their stories, help each other. While she always had Felix and Mrs. S, Sarah didn’t really have any good friends and was kind of a drifter. But now she’s more grounded. She has people who she can reach out to and who will always be there for her. And in real life, having a good support network can make an incredible difference in how a person is able to recover from traumatic events and situations. I love this show, all five seasons of it, but those last twenty minutes of Sarah trying to rebuild her life mean more to me than I can put into words right now. Thank you Orphan Black.

Another Rant

No, this one is not BTS related, but I can’t help myself from making this one.

I think I’m PMSing and about to start my period and that’s why I’ve been so annoyed and making rants lately.

Now, I know things can’t be 100% accurate, and I’m not directing this towards any one specific person except Stephanie Meyer since this pet peeve started with Twilight

If you are going to write about a certain topic, or include something in your writing, please do at least a minimal amount of research.

The amount of people who will write about something they know nothing about, and refuse to google it saddens me.

This goes for multiple topics.

Children/Pregnancy

As a child development major, this irks me more than it does most people, and as I said, I know things can’t be 100% accurate, and that since not everyone studies child development, there are things they can’t know, but there are somethings that’s just common sense.

Like it’s common sense that a 4 year old will not still be teething.

It’s common sense that a 2 month old will not be sitting up on their own.

It’s common sense that a 1 and a half year old will not be speaking in full grammatically correct sentences.

Onto pregnancy, why does everyone seem to think that you find out the sex of the baby on the first doctor’s appointment? Like, no. The genitalia begin to form at 6 weeks and aren’t finished until 14 weeks. The majority of people have their first appointment during that time frame, meaning it’s impossible to know anyway.

Also, morning sickness does not only happen in the morning, it’s just more common. The amount of times I’ve seen people writing fics about pregnancy, only for something to be wrong with the girl, and when someone questions her she says it’s just morning sickness, “but it’s not the morning”, please stop that.

Also, people will write about a bump at 2 months. If it’s the first pregnancy, like how it is in most fics, a bump usually won’t form until the 2nd trimester, which is 4 or 5 months. Maybe 3 months in some women, but not 2 months.

Smut

Okay, say it with me: the butt hole is not a vagina

The amount of gay smut where they talk about how “wet” the hole is getting when there is no lube or saliva involved, or the amount that says it’s painless without any lubrication. I’m a heterosexual female and even I know that’s not how it works.

Second, girls do not orgasm the same way guys do

A female orgasm is an overwhelming feeling of pleasure followed by sensitivity. There is no “flow of juices” and certainly no “white substance dripping down her thighs”. When “juices” do come out of her, that is called squirting, and only happens very rarely, some women never being able to at all. And after a women squirts, she can be very dehydrated and exhausted, and definitely not ready to go a second round, like described in quite a few fics. There are some women who can squirt quite often, however, they are in the vast minority, and therefore it should not be included in every. single. fanfic. Rarely do I see a fic that accurately describes a female orgasm.

Mental Health

This one really hits home to me, and quite a few others, as I suffer from mental illness, and have for years.

I would really appreciate if the people who don’t have a mental illness, but choose to write about it would do adequate research about the mental illness they have chosen.

I could go on about all the mistakes people have made about many mental illnesses, but I’ll focus on anxiety right now as that’s what I have and is the most common mental illness since it comes in many varieties.

The one that I notice the most is the misrepresentation of Social Anxiety.

In most of the fics I have read that have incorporated Social Anxiety, they always describe it as feeling uncomfortable around strangers, but it is way more than that.

Social Anxiety is:

constantly feeling like everyone in the room is watching you and scrutinizing your every movement

not being able to eat at someone’s house or at a party because your stomach hurts so much that the thought of food makes you want to throw up

wanting to cry when you’re forced to sit close to people you don’t know

being almost 20 years old and not being able to order for yourself at a restaurant

thinking that sitting alone in the car is a better option than having to go inside a place you’ve never been

It is so much more than being uncomfortable around people you don’t know. The feeling I get can’t even be described using the word “uncomfortable”. If you are not actually having anxiety over the situation, it is not anxiety.

Another thing that people don’t research with this is how you get diagnosed. I always see it described as they went to their normal doctor the second they started to have issues, told them they had it, and they automatically get a prescription for medication, and they’re done in 10 minutes. That is not how it happens.

I had been living with anxiety for at least 5 years before ever even going to be formally diagnosed. I didn’t bother with telling my mom I thought I needed more help than just her, who also has anxiety, until after I was tempted to remove the blades from my razor and slit my wrist to where they couldn’t sew it back up.

I had to have suicidal thoughts before realizing “woah I need help”. After that, my mom had to make an appointment at a psychological assessment center, not my regular doctor. That first appointment, it was me, my mom, and a therapist. There was no official diagnosis of that. All it was was the three of us talking, with me and my mom telling her about the struggles I had been having, how long it had been happening, how it gradually got worse, and so on. Then she gave my mom a questionnaire to fill out about what she has observed about me, and gave me one to give to one of my teachers at school to fill out.

A week later, I went back and spent two hours being tested in different ways. They varied from “what do you see when you look at this picture” to testing my memory skills. Two hours. And that wasn’t even the day I was diagnosed.

My mom and I went back a week after that to meet with the therapist, and that’s where she gave me the official diagnosis, the degree it was to, and then discussed treatment options. Then she had to send my regular doctor the results so that she could write a prescription.

It was two more weeks before my doctor got around to it and I was able to start on medication.

It is way more than “oh I’ve been feeling this way”, “okay, here’s some pills to pop”.

If you’re going to write about a mental illness without having it, then at least have the courtesy to research it.

Then comes to the idea that it can be cured and one day they won’t have it anymore. I don’t know how many fics I’ve read where it ends with a completely happy ending in the main character no longer has the mental illness.

That is complete and utter bullshit. Mental illnesses are caused by chemical imbalances in the brain, and those can’t be fixed easily. There is no “cure”, you just get to the point where you can handle it better. There are people with depression who can go years without and episode, then wake up one day with no motivation to even roll over in bed. My mom has some of the worst social anxiety, yet she’s a hair stylist, meaning she has to constantly be around and talk to people she doesn’t know. She has overcome her illness enough that it doesn’t get in the way of her job, but she’s still on medication and she almost had a panic attack when she had to walk me up on stage for the Senior Walk at my final orchestra concert.

Mental illnesses do not have a cure. You just get better at being able to live without them getting in your way.


There are a few authors and works out there that do a great job of trying to be accurate in the topics they write about, but they are sadly outnumbered by the people who just do not care.

So please, if you read this and want to write a fanfic or regular fic about a topic you’re not to sure about, please do at least a minimal amount of research before rather than bullshitting it like Stephanie Meyer did when she decided to write about vampires.

4

“What’s wrong with death sir? What are we so mortally afraid of? Why can’t we treat death with a certain amount of humanity and dignity, and decency, and God forbid, maybe even humor.
Death is not the enemy gentlemen. If we’re going to fight a disease, let’s fight one of the most terrible diseases of all, indifference.”
                                          
Patch Adams (1998)

4

4 Talented Horror Writer/Directors That Unfortunately Will Probably Never Make Another Horror Movie Again (Though We Want Them To)

The one-off horror writer/director that ‘misses their true calling’ is a thing, and these are just the latest examples. 

From the top: David Robert Mitchell, Jennifer Kent, Jordan Peele, Ana Lily Amirpour

(Note: Jordan Peele is involved in ‘some capacity’ on an upcoming TV series called “Lovecraft Country”.) 

anonymous asked:

whoo boy i really want akira angst bc it soothes my soul thanks so much for doing this blog it is an amazing gift to the world!!!

HSAJKDFHJ OMG STOP YOU’RE AN AMAZING GIFT TO THE WORLD THANK YOU SO MUCH. Let’s go on a feels trip! Enjoy!


“You’re so quiet.” 

Why don’t you ever talk?”

“You’re too passive.” 

“Don’t you have any opinions?”

If Akira obtained a single yen for every time those phrases invaded his ears, he could purchase one hundred pairs of noise-cancelling headphones to tune out the condescending and obvious statements. He was well aware of his reticence, and there was no need for people to constantly address it. Even a few of his current friends commented on it upon their first encounter with him; however, once they forged a deeper connection with the bespectacled delinquent, they realized that their original impression was a false one.

Indeed, Akira wasn’t always so taciturn and somber; on the contrary, when he still resided in his hometown, he was rather talkative and frivolous, frequently teasing his friends and attracting attention wherever he roamed by engaging in audacious or flamboyant antics. His daily activities included accompanying his cherished friends as they performed various activities, such as parkour, karaoke, or simply a stroll around town. 

Furthermore, Akira was quite popular for his kindness and levity. He was also fearless of the opinions of others; if his favorite song resonated from a store in the local mall, he would shamelessly break out into a small dance, or even strike a pose if he was ‘feeling saucy’. Alternatively, if he ever witnessed someone in distress, he would immediately take action and reproach the offender, shielding the victim from them as he did so. Akira would remain persistent until the one of them backed down, and he ensured that it would not be him, for if there was one thing he wholeheartedly loathed, it was those in power exploiting those that possessed no means of fighting back. That very abhorrence still remained within him, yet ironically, it is also what spurred the subsequent series of events that drastically altered his life, and consequently, his very identity.

After the deplorable day of his arrest, it was evident that Akira would never be the same jubilant, well-loved boy again. He’ll never forget the sheer petrification that usurped his body when the cold, austere slap of handcuffs clanked around his wrists, or how his heart crashed against his rib-cage, begging for a release from its prison as he stood trial, well aware that it was merely a formality before he was inevitably cast away. Although he understood this, he couldn’t quell the overwhelming entanglement of dread and wrath once the verdict echoed throughout the courtroom; the false declaration haunted his ears, in addition to his dreams, so that he may never forget that he was now branded a criminal.

Once Akira was exposed to the public as a guilty, violent delinquent, he was abandoned by the very same people that swore to extend their hand to him when he hit rock bottom, to help him crawl back out of his darkness and emerge into the light, revitalized and healed of his woes. They swore to protect him in the face of injustice, to guide him to the future that they proclaimed he deserved. They vowed to be there for him when he needed them the most…

Yet all that awaited him outside the courthouse was ostracism and his own heart handed to him in shattered pieces. 

“You’re no friend of mine. Get lost, freak!”

“I can’t be seen around you anymore. Sorry…”

“Please, don’t talk to me ever again.”

Akira’s own parents were included among those that eschewed him; they listened to his perspective of the situation, and they additionally believed his innocence. However, the combination of their embarrassment of him and the risk he imposed on their pristine reputation ultimately concluded that he would transfer to Tokyo, where a new life of inexorable scorn awaited him. 

There were many nights where Akira gazed longingly at his phone, desperately praying for a single text of consolation, or reassurance that he would be all right and make it through this hellish nightmare that was unfairly thrust upon him.

However, empty promises truly live up to their name; Akira discovered far too late that words are merely hollow, meant to fill the silence and temporarily dispel the burdensome worries that plagued both heart and mind. He was a fool to have expected them to fulfill their end of the bargain, to support him should he ever be swallowed by desolation and grief. Alas, loyalty will only get you so far so long as you provide a use and a purpose, so long as you’re not inconvenient to others.

Those are the unspoken words that ruthlessly permeate Akira’s mind when he is inquired of his jaded and withdrawn bearing, yet the only words that deign to slip past his lips are, “Sorry, I’ve always been this way.”

I hoped eventually after repetition and stability that feeling of wandering blindly through life would vanish. But to no avail, I’m just as lost as ever. But I’ve also started realizing: no matter your current disposition or future endeavours, that feeling never goes away.
Nobody knows what they doing. It’s scary but it’s a part of life. And I’m just as lost as before and as lost as I’ll ever be.
—  Steven Suptic | Day in the life of Sugar Pine 7

I’ve been falling in love with girls since before I even knew falling in love with girls was something I was allowed to do. Sometimes, these girls’ lives would intertwine with mine for just a fractional part of our lives - the girl I met in the park once when I was eight, with her long blonde hair, for example, or the girl with the stunning blue eyes at the week long gymnastics camp I’d gone to that summer. Other times, they’d be in my life for the long haul, like the girl who was in my class the whole way through primary school who made my heart beat faster every time I asked for one of her felt pens. Or the girl in Mrs C’s class with the smile I couldn’t help but stare at every time I looked at yearbook photos. Now and again, they’d be sort of inbetween - my violin teacher, who I saw once a week who sort of smelled like jasmine, or the girl in the year above me who always wore Converse to school even though we weren’t allowed. When she graduated a year before me, I missed seeing her brown curls bounce as she walked into assembly every Wednesday morning.

But yet, this love never seemed like love. “What was love?” I asked myself when I was ten or eleven. Love was what I felt for the boy in the pantomime I’d gone to see who was decently attractive and around my age. Love was what I felt for the boy in my form class in first year. “I could love him,” I told myself as the sunlight hit his face one Tuesday morning in Home Ec. Love was what I felt for boys, what I’d have felt for my boyfriend had I been pretty enough to get one, what I’d feel for my husband when I got older. But I never really did feel it.

What if love to me was what I felt for the girl who sat across from me in Biology who was so beautiful I became “jealous” of her? What if love was why I couldn’t help staring at that third year girl every Thursday afternoon as we passed in the corridor before Maths? What if love to me meant girls?

I mean, I had pondered why girls had to love smelly old boys in the canteen line aged six. Eventually, I acknowledged that my brief infatuation with other girls was, in fact, infatuation.

From my violin teacher, the girl in the park, the girl in my class when I was seven, eight, nine, to the waitress at that restaurant in town who said my shirt was cute last week. To the girl who’d said my eyes were pretty on Instagram on Wednesday. To the girl in the changing rooms before netball practice yesterday who said my long hair was beautiful.

I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving girls. And yeah, sometimes it shocks me how the strength of my love didn’t break through the secrets and the lies and gravitate me towards that realisation sooner, but I guess the only thing that can bury love that strong is hate even stronger.

—  random thoughts I had at 3am some night last week
10
Episode Prompto Thoughts

Okay, so full disclosure here with my thoughts on episode Prompto.

I love this guy and he has been my man since I got the stupid game on day one and it consumed my life. I relate him very deeply in a lot of his insecurities and stuff. I don’t cry, as in until recently it had been at least a few years since I had really cried, and his scene on top of the motel when he confesses that he’s afraid he isn’t good enough had me BAWLING.

When I wrote for Prompto, I try to encompass all of his very detailed (snaps to Square Enix for this one) personality. I agree that he’s a little emotional but it’s also clear that Prompto has built up some serious walls and blocks out a lot of shit.

I’ve been trying to prepare myself emotionally for his episode because I feel so attached to his character because he is so very really to me. I’m ecstatic to see this kid kick some ass and take some names because it’s clearly always been in him.

HOWEVER…

The reason I’m not ready for this is: when you find Prompto, he’s been fuckin tortured by Ardyn and he can’t believe that the others actually came for him. I seriously don’t know if I’ll be able to take seeing him be broken from this bad ass rogue assassin type character to becoming the broken mess that is chained to that spreader in the dungeon in the game. Also, seeing Prompto so shut down from his emotions is going to be hard because that is also my coping mechanism.

How this episode is done, in the sense of how Prompto’s character handles the stress of the situation and how he ends up in the broken state will be a huge deal to me and will definitely effect how I see the game. I STILL CANT WAIT TO SEE HOW KICK ASS PROMPTO ARGENTUM REALLY IS.