this turned out to be quite enjoyable

I’ve grown familiar
With villains that live in my head
They beg me to write them
So I’ll never die when I’m dead

I’m bigger than my body
I’m colder than this home
I’m meaner than my demons
I’m bigger than these bones

And all the kids cried out, “Please stop, you’re scaring me!”
I can’t help this awful energy
Goddamn right, you should be scared of me
Who is in control?

I have not been this terrified for a fictional character in a very long time.

last night i was drinking all kinds of alcohol with a group of my brothers friends in the basement of our place and we played monopoly until half the group was too drunk to calculate money

i’ve never been as drunk as they were, fumbling on the floor muttering incomplete sentences, for one drunken night all the sorry’s and i love you’s and every suppressed word of a human conscience spill out of candid mouths, no inhibitions, knocking over cups of water and ruining half of the monopoly money, singing along louder than the music when turned up all the way

blacking out, feeling sick, crawling because walking is no longer a thing, my body seems to refuse to get as drunk as that so i don’t quite know what it’s like but i’ve seen things, because i observe, and i listen, and i end up falling in love with the chaos of humanity, the ugliness as much as the beauty

i’m an optimistic realist, often high on fascination and realization

it was so enjoyable to be surrounded by these carefree beings, each with their own complex and equally as beautiful stories that hide within the caves of their hearts, words written and not often spoken but if you really just observe and listen you’ll realize people hand out puzzle pieces of their own story with the way they laugh, the way they can’t look you directly in the eye when they speak, the way they constantly bring up that one name when they’ve drank too much, the way they hate spiders, have obsessions for quirky things, chuckle when they’re nervous, a story is still a story when it’s in the form of shaking hands and shifty eyes, remember that and you’ll be able to read people much better
being around these drunk, some sad, crying through apologies, some happy, singing for the entire world to hear, being around these people was a high moment for me, i felt euphoric on the notion of existence
us, you, me

does actuality make sense?

not a bit, that’s the beauty of it

— optimistic realist (something between paralyzed and ‘i’m fine’)


so undertale turned a year old the other day and I just realized that there’s actually quite a bit of unfinished/quick work that I scribbled up for it back when it initially came out. still super fond of this game, and like many others I owe it a lot in terms of enjoyment and inspiration.

but yea! have some old stuff. maybe I’ll finish/expand on these some day, who knows.

Writing Every Day (hopefully) Prologue

I’m going to try to use Tumblr more often, in the hopes of getting more out of it. I’m also going to try to do some writing every day, specifically screenwriting.

Here’s a bit of background. In 2015 I began studying film at TAFE for 2 years, where my enjoyment of film turned into a passionate love, and also where I met a man by the name Billy Marshall Stoneking. I didn’t get to know him very long, but he taught me so, so much. He was my writing mentor, and he played a big part in 4 out of the 5 short films I took part in during my time studying there. Billy was an incredibly passionate man, probably the most passionate man I’ve ever met, and while I didn’t always agree with him, I always got on with him and found him quite inspiring. I think he was an important figure in an important time in my life, in that he was truly passionate, knowledgeable and fascinating as a person, and moreso than anyone else I ever looked up to, he truly believed in me.

I learned to my shock that Billy passed away in his sleep soon after the production of the 5th short film, the first one I worked on that Billy was in no way involved. It was a shock, I’ve never really experienced a death before, and Billy was something I had sort of planned my future around. All these plans, hoping he would be there to guide me and encourage me and teach me. Alas, the Universe took him away and I was to make do with what he had given me, which I soon came to realise, was still a lot to work with.

This isn’t really about Billy, at least I didn’t mean for it to be, but he’s always going to be in the background, I think. Regardless, I couldn’t talk about this journey without talking about Billy.

I’ve decided, I want to be a screenwriter. I intend to read a whole lot more books, to help develop my writing, read a lot of scripts, study film and story structure, and perhaps most importantly, write something every day. To help encourage myself, I’ve decided I’m going to try journalling this journey, updating it often about my attempts to become a great screenwriter.

I don’t want fame, I don’t expect money, I may never get anywhere with it, but I thought it might be worth sharing. I hope if anyone finds this little place, that they take something out of it. Maybe it’ll be fun to read, maybe you’ll be inspired in your own way, whether you want to write, or paint, or make music, or puppet shows, or you’re just really into your fanfiction. I hope to find some like-minded people here and just enjoy myself.

I don’t know what else to say but ‘Enjoy’.

Sidenote: This place is not going to be exclusively about my own writings. I will probably be talking about films and music I’m into or whatever else I feel like posting about.


@thejulietsimms said:
“There are all types of bad tattoos! Jagged lines, fading, bleeding, infected, blown out, one that just doesn’t look like what you had hoped it would and so on. Having a tattoo on your skin is a permanent life choice and when it doesn’t turn out the way you had hoped it can drive you nuts! Thankfully there’s a solution to that dreaded poor life decision haha😂 I made this video to share my experience with you and in hopes to help someone else out that was plagued by the sadness of poorly done tattoos! Thank you @themedspotla 💋Not only did you make this an enjoyable experience, but I found it quite painless, quick and easy❤”

Made with Instagram
3rd Bluebell Poop

My third bluebell walk was quite enjoyable if a little intense at a few times but nothing like on the scale of shopping centre day. I knew I’d have the chance for a pants poop on this day but I hadn’t controlled my diet as much. I did manage to hold it more comfortably for three clear days prior and didn’t suffer as much discomfort on the penultimate day as on my second Bluebell walk.

It turned out to be the hottest day of the year in the UK so far and took place a few Sundays back. The previous night I’d been out with friends. Wine and gluttony happened, leaving me slightly worse for wear. I’d set off this time in the heat of the day and immediately regretted the thicker tights I wore but since some over the top - and bottom - disasters in the past I’ve usually worn thicker or darker tights. I’d also meant to wax the previous day but ended up opting for jeans when I went out socialising.

I’d chosen some old cream Jeggings that I’d cut into shorts. Underneath this time, black briefs, cut tights, and another pair of pink briefs above. I’m fairly into pink at the moment. The car was boiling and my AC has run out of gas which meant I was sweating before I’d arrived at the woods. Not great for my make up but I didn’t wear much. This time I’d packed a contingency skirt. It’s a nice stretch light blue denim style skirt and is one of my favourites for pants pooping. I have two and the other is part of my normal summer wardrobe but its a common look so I don’t mind sharing that.

Heading for the same areas of woodland was the plan. I’d entered the wood at a different point this time to explore a little. The weather was so hot. It was like a full blown summer day and it was lovely in the relative cool of the shaded woodland. The trees were starting to wake up and I realised just how much I’ve missed leafs! The heat also promoted a sweeter smelling flora aroma that reminded me of holidays abroad. My route took me through a few places where I could resist a wave privately and I could feel it was loose. Most probably the alcohol after effects from the previous night, which were also affecting my stamina.

Being a Sunday the woodland was very crowded; far worse than my previous trip and similar to my first. I worried a little about the way the poop felt. The convulsions didn’t keep pushing back and forth; they were singular drawn out events of a long push with my legs tightly crossed until it started to ease and every time things felt messier and wetter. I felt really full and there would have definitely been stains fairly soon after I’d entered the woods. 

I managed to just about keep it at bay while enjoying walking around and taking normal pictures on such an unbelievably nice day. I’d made sure to wee properly before leaving and took chilled water with me to sip but not gorge on. I’d drank quite a lot of water already earlier in the morning and had dealt with it, so was hoping not to wet myself this time.

Back in the more crowded area I’d found a spot and set my camera up on tripod at a nice location framing a sweeping sea of bluebells. I could feel the intensity building again. I definitely didn’t want to do it on a bench like before as it got too messy too quickly but I’d remembered my failure to try my first bluebell walk idea of losing it while framing up a picture. (Incidentally, I didn’t make the bench that dirty but I did thoroughly wipe any slight patches clean with anti bacterial wet wipes after.) 

I set my tripod at full height which meant I’d only have to bend over a little to look through the viewfinder or at the live display and was waiting for a few minutes. Not too long after a large group appeared, maybe friends and family or maybe a planned outing, but people of all ages and I could see them coming from ahead. They were a way down on a wide central, tree arched path and possibly about a minute away. I was positioned at the side of the wide path pointing slightly away into the bluebells but this exposed my bottom. The set-up meant that maybe I could let go just before they arrived without putting on too much of a show. I suppose the ideal response I’d like to receive would be a - did she, didn’t she.. Noticeable but not an obvious omg like last Sunday. But the stage was set and I was the protagonist again. 

I pushed a little to rekindle the convulsions and it took nothing to set off another wave. Having not had a wave for about 10 minutes it came back in force in a much more desperate and uncontrollable, crampy way. It consumed me totally and as they approached I bent over and peered through the viewfinder and released the brakes. I didn’t have to push at all, my body took over and the poop slowly and silently at first started coming out. It was quite wet and messy as the waves had predicted. I could smell myself immediately and the hot day didn’t help. The people were nearly on me and as I pressed the camera shutter I reached the peak of the wave and uncontrollably pushed harder. It came out much more quickly and the flow was more crackly and wet sounding. It kept coming out constantly for maybe a further 5 seconds and it felt very warm in the way that a mushier poop does. I noticed that I was breathing heavily and tried not to be so obvious as they approached to pass me. There were about ten of them, a mixture of ages and both sexes and as usual I got scared. I’d done a lot of poop and was worried about how wet it felt and whether it had stained but I couldn’t touch my bum and draw attention to it. The smell was overpowering and more noxious in the heat of the day. I started to collapse my tripod in view of getting out of there and as I did one of the people in a totally British way said, ‘Lovely day for it!’ A man in his 60’s maybe. ‘Beautiful isn’t it’, I replied on small talk autopilot, smiling and being careful to face them and not show my bum. They must have been able to smell it. I couldn’t stay around risking further conversation and casually walked away down a fail safe side track and that would have directly revealed my bum to them if they’d looked but I didn’t look back. I laughed to myself about what he said, thinking if only you knew.

I took some pictures firstly at the same place as my first bluebell walk in the white jeans and then at the same place shown in my previous Treggings eruption. I could feel and see that the shorts were becoming obviously stained through. Frustratingly, I did wee a little and I would again. Contingency skirt time. I slipped it on over the shorts in a bushy area where it would have been tough to see me. I then started to head back by a different route that was much busier, taking several photos along the way carrying my camera and tripod as one. I do worry that when I’m seen with stained clothes, carrying a tripod, people may put two and two together. She’s doing this on purpose! And that kills the fun a little as I’d like people to think its an accident which invokes innocence.

Heading back towards joining a busier main path, I waited just before the intersection, taking pictures, and soon heard another group coming. They were walking towards the car park too. I was a little reticent to join ahead of them as I could see a slight wetness developing on my skirt now in the pictures. It was within did she, didn’t she territory so I thought you’re here, you may as well. I still needed to finish my poop a little and after detaching my camera to put back in my bag, waited to join just ahead of them. There were about seven of them, two older guys, a few youngsters and about three late teenage girls, one of whom I noticed was also in shorts; the other two were wearing skirts. I was wearing both! I didn’t see them for long before I joined ahead but they were all laughing and having a nice time. My heart always starts beating more heavily when I’m around people with pooped pants. I tried to walk as normally as possible. They were about 20 feet behind me and I deliberately walked a little more slowly than normal while trying to rekindle the last of the poop by pushing regularly. It took a minute or so but it came on strong when it did. I was excited and nervous. I’ve had finishers before that were comically noisy. They’re more unpredictable and I can’t get a gauge on them like with a whole load. 

Behind they were laughing but I heard their conversation and it wasn’t laughter at me. The smell had dissipated slightly since pooping earlier but maybe that was the wind direction. Whenever I’d stood still it was horrendous. I was worried that they’d smell me and gauge that the slight wetness and visible bulge on my skirt may not just have been due to sitting somewhere wet (on the driest, hottest day of the year?) As the slope went up a little it brought on a small wave and I let it take control. It built and built until more poop started coming out slowly at my body’s natural pushing rate. I then gave a hard push and it sort of flarped? audibly and the rest filled out a little more than expected. All whilst still walking which staggered the noise a little. I wondered if they’d heard me. I’d also accidentally weed again slightly. That and the extra smell made me up the pace. I didn’t notice any sudden drops in conversation like they’d noticed and were now whispering it to each other. But I’d clearly pooped myself.

None of these encounters were the most memorable part of the walk however. After going a little distance and now on a steep incline down to the car park I noticed a woman standing with a pram just by the entrance to a side path. As I drew closer I started to worry as I was becoming more sure that I recognised her. And then I saw her partner. I knew these people. They’re both in their late 20’s and were friends of friends. I hadn’t seen them for three or four years but my heart still slammed in my chest. The set-up had the group still approaching from behind, some people I knew in front and no contingency exits. They hadn’t noticed me and were facing away taking a picture of the baby in the pram with a bluebell backdrop down the side path. Don’t turn around don’t turn around don’t turn around. I thought about back tracking but saw that the person I knew was pre-occupied facing the other way and as I drew closer to pass I could confirm it was definitely them. This woman has a fantastic body and one of the most naturally beautiful faces I’ve ever seen. She occasionally does model work but not professionally, although she could. She still faced away but I’d walk into view as soon as I passed. Seconds took hours. I thank fate that I passed without her turning around as it would have sparked one of the most awkwardly traumatic conversations of my life. ‘Hey stranger! Long time no see how are you?!’ ‘Hi! I’m great thanks, although I’ve actually just totally pooped myself so I’d better go, nice talking!’ But she must have at the least glanced at me when I’d passed. Everything now felt very wet. I don’t know if she could have recognised me from behind. Its possible. It really made my heart double its pace. After that, being seen by a few people in the car park was small fry in comparison.

Too close to home. But also arousing to know that an attractive acquaintance had seen me like that without being able to ID me for sure. I stank and again, if she’d smelt it, she would have added things up. 

It’s a little worrying. The inception of this picture diary was inspired by randomly happening across and being inspired by enemmauk’s blog. Trying to increase my bravery to a similar level has left me closer than ever to actually being seen by someone I know but also closer to a place that I’ve always dreamed of visiting. It’s a roll of the dice, especially with local pants pooping. A dice that I’m becoming slightly more addicted to. Quiet woodland walks are great and very meditative but they don’t get the heart racing much. Losing it in front of people akin to having a real accident is also fun in an absurd way at the time but the reality of doing it so publicly like at the shopping centre carries with it a slight trauma that the fantasy forgets about. A mixture of genuine sink-hole-craving shame and machiavellian, double bluff profiteering. Its taken me nearly a week to feel better about myself following the excess of last weeks shopping centre performance. I didn’t feel too bad about losing it initially in front of the two girls in Debenhams, or the girl behind in the queue on my trip or the girl in the aisle at the supermarket who were all serendipitous. It sort of made me imagine if my pants poop reminded them of any accidents they might have had. Being in a total state and stuck deep in public without any fail safes is different and I’ll need to be more careful in future. It was too real, and although slightly shielded by the rush of it, I experienced the genuine emotions that anyone would feel in that predicament. So its all a self inflicted paradox; I doubt I’ll ever get it just right, but its fun trying :)

Mum's the Word


With both Lilia and Isabella, affectionately referred to as Bella, now in an on campus day care, Minerva was able to effectively return to work as Headmistress within two years after their birth and the birth of her ‘grandson’, Severus. At first is was a difficult transition but in due time, Minerva was adjusted to leaving the girls with Molly Weasley in the morning and do her duties throughout the day. The school wasn’t quite back to its normal status pre-war but it was turning into something better. The students were unified, the classes much more enjoyable, and the weekends were the best whether they were enjoyed in Hogsmeade or out on the grounds waiting for the Quidditch match to begin.

One thing that was not changing was Minerva’s mind on a committed relationship. Kingsley had pursued and failed several times for her to accept his marriage proposal but she wasn’t having it. She had lost everyone she had ever loved deeply and to curse him like that would be a disservice to him. She had lost Dougal, Elphinstone, and Severus. And losing Severus still was difficult to get over as she saw so much of him in Mark and her daughters.

Thinking of him, she had found a moment to settle down on the front steps of the castle and sneak in a cigarette break. Her usual long hair had been cut up to her shoulders and the days of skirts and corsets traded for trousers and long dress tunics. Minerva drew out her cigarette case and pulled a thin cigarette out as she reminisced on the days where she and Severus would fight but end up sitting on those same steps speaking softly to one another. She longed for him always but some days were just more difficult than others and that day was one of those types where if someone asked if she was okay, a hard lump would rise in her throat as she struggled to smile and say she was fine.

BEAT SHUFFLE - Kyo and Takumi

Just quick notes:

First there were few questions/topics,
about what they were wearing and glasses (Kyo has many pairs, he wore very round ones to the broadcast),
about recording TV shows/music (Takumi talked about what he listens to),
about watching TV (Kyo said doesn’t really watch TV, besides Adventure Time)

Then they talked about the new single. First idea was quite different to the final version; collaboration song turned out different than usual sukekiyo’s image with TUSK (with shouting). When asked about lyrics Kyo said to simply read them.
They also discussed the video and Kyo’s outfit. Asai didn’t get the headpiece and was really curious how the whole outfit works and what inspired it.

Then there was a quiz to win a signed photo, Kyo had to give a hint for fans to guess some information.

After playing “anima” they talked about the concerts. Kyo said that playing new songs was enjoyable. And they discussed his outfit again (at this point Kyo sounded quite angry). Takumi diverted the talk to music.

Kyo explained the show in July - it will be two parts played on the same day, two concerts with a break in the middle. He thought that not many artists do that, so it will be interesting to try it.
And he was very firm when requesting that fans wear black to the show. Very.
He also said that July’s concert will include the same content as previous shows and more, so even people who attended their concerts in November and April will also enjoy it.

Next part were questions from fans.
First was about eating before the show. Kyo said he doesn’t eat anything on the day they perform, only snacks on chocolate. When asked why they don’t used catering he said it’s smells and makes him feel sick. Takumi agreed that recently he also started to follow Kyo in that.
Next question asked for some story from the time they filmed PV. They complained that it was taking a very long time and it was cold, even though it was shot in a studio. One day there was 3 hour delay or something and there were many bento boxes lying around and Kyo found them smelly too.
(there was one more question, but I got distracted by someone here XD)

Lastly Asai said that Kyo chose the second song to be “Ameagari no yuushi” because of the weather, but it was Takumi announcing it.

(bear in mind that I took some notes while listening, so there was more info/more details)


Want to know what breaks my heart? There is a ff that I am quite invested in. It’s like 21 ch and I have been a fan since he beginning. So I was reading the comments and there were people who had commented that they were unhappy with how the story went and therefore was not going to follow anymore. Granted there have been plenty of works that didn’t turn out how I wanted, but I would NEVER EVER tell someone that I was going to stop supporting their fic.

The authors of these fictions are taking their own time to write for our enjoyment, and don’t deserve any negativity of any kind. It can be a very scary thing to publish any kind of thing, so I feel that they always should deserve encouragement. Imagine putting yourself out there, now how would you feel if you got a negative review?

There is also a difference between constructive criticism and negativity. Sometimes people need help, and are probably open to suggestions. Negativity just get people discouraged and potentially want to stop putting their selves out in the fandom.

Yes, I get I am ranting but I have met friends since joining this community, and I have heard their fears about submitting a ff and how people are going to like it. So I am upset when I see discouragement of any type. And guess what 12 years ago I was a ff writer. For HP and I was absolutely TERRIFIED when I submitted my first story. But when I saw the people who commented it made it worth it. So I know the feeling.

I do hope this is all making sense, I know I tend to ramble. Most of you know due to the reviews and comments I leave. But I just want to make sure you know I support everyone who takes the time to write, make edits, produce art, really ANYTHING that makes the fandom a little brighter. (And yes I am leaving it vague because I want this to apply to any fandom).

Thank you for reading.