Smell like Ded Teen Bromance.

“Well, when I was on my first day in the recording studio, Baz wanted me to get as close to performing as possible,” he says, searching his mind for that day years back. “He had all the executives and everybody from RCA, who were back in the offices, he brought them into the recording studio and he goes, ‘I want you all to sit facing Austin,’...and he told them to heckle me. So then they were making fun of me and stuff while I was singing.” There was, of course, a reason behind the humiliation. “When we were filming this moment when Elvis first goes on stage and he’s getting heckled by the audience, I knew what that felt like,” he says. “I went home in tears that night. I really did.”

Austin Butler for VMAN 49 Fall-Winter 2022 issue. (X)

Just in case anyone here didn't know or realize I have an OFMD sideblog!

I love that I have a laptop that’s very fancy and has a big graphics card for rendering at my fancy art school, and it’s getting the most use in like two months because my sister wanted to play papa’s pizzeria

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

“How is 12 year old Annabeth head of the Athena cabin??”

1. Demi gods have the life expectancy of a lemming.

2. Gifted kids often burn out by age 16 & I doubt any of the Athena teens have the energy or desire to argue with their little sister who willingly takes care of all the family paperwork.

I’m the victim of the circumstances that I made myself </3

good games i've played on itchio lately:

please tell me you love me - chat with your guild members for the last time before the game's servers are shut down

GIRLKILLER (covet) - there is a girl who looks like you, and today you're going to kill her

cover me in leaves - stuck in your small hometown, you get your first tattoo. and then a few more, and more, and more

don't rock the boat - play through the different perspectives of a women's crew team as they are stalked by something in the water

GUTLESS - you are the captain of a deep sea vessel. your mission doesn't go well

so, about last night... - you wake up sick and weirdly hungry after hooking up with someone at a party. you spend the next night trying to find her.

close the window, my love - short bitsy poem about closing the window. sound on! this creator has a lot of short bitsy works i recommend.

there is a beautiful star - just a short, cute side scroller. lots of short, lighthearted games from them, definitely recommend for a mood booster.

Redrew some of my old daycare attendant doodles as stress relief today

friend wanted to see my tumblr, and when i told him i can’t show it to him bc it’s basically my personal diary he went “oh so I can’t see it but a bunch of strangers on tumblr can??” he literally does not get me. no one will get me like the people in my phone get me

i dont know how else to put this but to approach books (or any media, really) solely for the sake of relatability is genuinely incredibly heartbreaking......to have such little (or such unwilling) imaginative scope that you cannot stretch yourself, even marginally, in a different direction to what you’ve known or are used to knowing when the very POINT of stories is to transport you somewhere else, into someone else, so you can do just that........when fran lebowiz said a book “is supposed to be a door!” and george saunders said good prose “is like empathy training wheels” they were right!!! they were so so so SO absolutely entirely right!!!!!

i think a side effect of loving mishanks for many people is becoming very endeared by the "rayleigh is mihawk's parent" au's haha :') first one's part of this fic i posted where smolhawk challenges rayleigh to a duel ⚔️✨️ second one's just a random kid!mishanks doodle. i think their shenanigans (incl buggy!) would be cute.

damn shawty..

another orbit around the sun finished...! here's to continuing on 🎇

Steve and Robin go out to a gay club in Indy one night and Robin ends up pissed off because even if she did make a couple of friends and connections with the local scene she didn't have as much luck as Steve who made out with like 5 dudes in a row. How come they're going to the gay places and her straight friend still has more game than her?! Turns out maybe not so much, since Steve spends the monday shift at family video talking how much he enjoyed kissing guys and how hot it got him and how it didn't feel like a performance—which Robin can relate to that part—so maybe it's time to keep experimenting? Robin thinks he might be going a little fast but Steve is determined so he asks if he should ask Eddie if he's down to hooking up so he can try having sex with a guy which sends Robin into another spiral because whoa, since when are you aware that Eddie's gay? (And shit, if she said it out loud to Steve does that count as outing Eddie?!) Steve says he just knows, the same way he knows that Vicky is into boobies (ugh, not this again!) and anyway there's no harm in asking. Robin's mind is blown when Steve literally picks up the phone and calls Eddie if he's down to fuck that night at his place. She's not surprised Eddie agrees. He might be even more of a masochist than Robin herself, really. Which leads to a very interesting night where Robin spends hours trying to concentrate on her stupid homework and not think about how her best friend, her soulmate, the light of her life, is right now having gay sex literally days after finding out "kissing guys is cool actually," when it took her years to admit to herself that she was into girls. And it's even more mortifying when a little after midnight Steve calls her—of course he does—and informs her that sex with men is actually so much better than sex with girls, for him at least, he just had the best orgasm of his life (good for him) and inform her that he now has a boyfriend. Honestly, what did Robin expect. Good for Steve and his simple, honest heart.

soriku week day 3: DATASCAPE.

data sora: "dw bud, I downloaded like a bunch of medical stuff off the internet into my data, I KNOW how to be a doctor now." data riku: "Oh yeah? What did that "medical stuff" say about fixing computer viruses, Dr. Sora?" dr. sora: "...huh."