#celebrity culture is a fucking cancer
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if i see one more post abt That Trial i am going to commit arson i do not want to hear abt it i do not care abt literally anyones stance on it you are all insane and i hate you
#headspace#celebrity culture is a fucking cancer#ive read ppl making compelling arguments and absolutely batshit arguments on both sides and im too tired to read for myself#and also i dont care i literally dont care they are rich celebrities they can afford therapy or whatever#all this is doing is triggering people left and right and giving some absolute fucking cretins fodder for their weird clout chasing#i hate it and i want it to stop#negative
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Whats your favourite on-screen portrayal of Batman, if you have you one! Mines Battison, his sad wet eyes have captivated me, he looks so greasy and pathetic I love that in a man - 🐇
good god, dick has such a special place in my heart. going from the angry, hurt child to the goofy, gentle adult, being treated as just a comedic relief most of the time, being sexualized only to be slut-shamed, suffering from eldest daughter syndrome… i want to wrap him in a burrito of warm blankets and kiss his forehead and feed him some homemade cookies
choosing my favorite is always difficult because i feel like everyone does a good job at portraying different aspects of bruce’s/batman’s personality. clooney did really well with the whole playboy aspect of bruce. kilmer did well with the batman aspect. affleck played an excellent older, barely has any fucks left to give batman (i’ll fight anyone who disagrees with me, towards the end of his career batman is canonically absolutely ruthless and is nearly killing people). bale did a pretty good balance of both bruce and batman, but it still fell a little short for me. pattinson did a really good beginning of his career, anger-driven batman and angsty bruce (pattinson is also one of my favorite actors in general so i may be biased). but i think kevin conroy will always be my favorite batman. his voice as batman is legendary. from the animated series to the arkham games, he brought so much life and dimension and love to bruce wayne/batman. it’s hard to find someone who can play both well because they’re so different from each other, but conroy pulled it off so effortlessly. he’s greatly missed, and i will forever be grateful for his part in one of my biggest comforts <3
#❀.ask#❀.🐇 anon#i’ll never get over his death#i try my best to not get invested in celebrity culture or anything#because it’s all very odd to me to worship someone for being good at playing pretend#but god kevin conroy as batman was my childhood hero#i have such an attachment to him#batman helped me through so much of my childhood#fuck cancer#truly
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songs that give the same energy as these aspects/placements
[astro notes no. 008]
hey y'all! i'm sure this has probably been done before, but i thought it'd be fun to do a post where i can talk about music and astrology bc i'm very much so a nerd when it comes to both of those topics :) (i'm dipping my toes into synastry/composite placements in this post, and i'm still learning about those subjects so any of these notes sound like surface-level baby shit, that's why, i apologize in advance lmao)
also, if it don't apply let it fly, we all have different charts and so therefore aspects and placements will manifest differently for all of us.
disclaimers | masterlist | ask
༊*·˚ ˗ venus in the 12H | scorpio / cancer venus: unknown / nth — hozier
you called me angel for the first time
my heart leapt from me
you smile now, i can see its pieces still stuck in your teeth
and what's left of it, i listen to it tick
every tedious beat going unknown as any angel to me
do you know, i could break beneath the weight
of the goodness, love, i still carry for you?
that i'd walk so far just to take
the injury of finally knowing you?
i feel like it's worth mentioning that hozier has venus in aquarius in his 12H, which makes so much sense when you listen to his music. these placements are, i feel, indicative of loving extremely hard, even to your own detriment. they tend to crave deep, nurturing, spiritual connections in love. and although they might have the capacity to understand people on a deeper level, rarely is that level of understanding reciprocated to them in love (especially the venus 12th housers), which can result in this feeling of being "unknown". y'all's suffering usually results in amazing art though, which can be an upside depending on how you look at it lmao
༊*·˚ ˗ moon in the 8H | moon square / opposite pluto or saturn: good days — SZA
said i'm not tryna be a nuisance, it's just urgent
tryna make sense of loose change
got me a war in my mind
gotta let go of weight, can't keep what's holding me
choose to watch
while the world break up and fall on me
all the while, i'll await my armored fate with a smile
still wanna try, still believe in good days
as an 8H moon native i literally cannot listen to this song without crying lmfao. i feel like there’s so much inner emotional turmoil that people with these placements experience, and these experiences can definitely harden somebody into the type of person who’s emotionally avoidant and seeks to escape through their work or self-destructive habits. or, they become someone who, despite of what they’ve been through, utilize their understanding of the “darker” side of life to help others, and at least attempt to seek out things that bring them joy recognize that you don't have to view life through the lens of the fucked up shit you've been through.
༊*·˚ ˗ venus in the 9H / taurus ruling over the 9H: bliss abroad — masego ft. sheléa
i'm a boss, i know you like that
spend it all, and make it all back
see the sea view right from the cockpit
just a preview to one of god's gifts
i love the way
we have no limitations, every night a celebration
you take me there
you exceed my expectation, beyond imagination
this is such a cute placement to have, both in natal and synastry. in the natal chart, it can indicate being someone who finds pleasure in traveling and learning about cultures that are vastly different than yours, and even finding spiritual fulfillment through doing so. it also shows being someone who enjoys traveling and exploring uncharted territory with their partner (or finding love in a different country), as well as feeling the most fulfilled in a relationship with someone who you feel "enlightens" you and brings newfound wisdom to your day to day life. these natives could also end up attaining wealth through these endeavors as well.
༊*·˚ ˗ sun trine or sextile black moon lilith | mars conjunct uranus | venus aspecting mars / pluto (synastry): stroke — banks
it’s always in my head
everything is always about you
tell me you’re a book that i misread
you just wanna tell me what to do
you want me, you want me
want me to stroke your ego
beg for it, die for it
i got the touch placebo
i like to refer to aspects and placements like these as the "you not finna tell me what the fuck to do" indicators. with the natal aspects, these are typically the type of people who like to push against the boundaries just to see how far they can go, and enjoy ruffling other peoples' feathers for fun. they're also visionaries, and tend to prioritize their individuality above all else and enjoy encouraging others to feel empowered as well. on the other hand, the synastry aspects can indicate a strong level of physical attraction and sexual compatibility, when they're afflicted it can very much so lead to power struggles, with mars/pluto being the one attempting to assert some form of dominance or control over venus. how that ends up playing out depends on the context of the individual natal charts of those involved, personally i'd rather eat a denim jacket than let somebody (especially a man) tell me what to do, but i digress.
༊*·˚ ˗ moon / mercury in 3H (synastry) | sun in pisces / taurus (composite): are you even real? — james blake
all i can do is trust in her
late nights, i can see the lust in her
acid rain is a first for her
skies open up, share a cup with her
cracking seals, guilty no appeal
trip down the hill, strawberry fields
are you even real?
she said, "tell me how you feel"
are you even real?
3H synastry is so sweet and so underrated, probably because it's not a house that people typically look at for an indication of "romance", but i feel like communication is an integral part of relationships that (clearly) nobody really takes into account. moon and mercury in the 3H can be indicative of giving/receiving words of affirmation with someone, as well as an ease in not only expressing your emotions to someone but having a very strong intellectual connection to them. it could also be indicative of having a strong bond with their siblings or immediate family as well. i also mentioned sun in pisces and taurus in the composite chart because the production of this song is so ethereal, and the lyrics are very domestic in a sense? i feel like it's representative of the spiritual connection and compassion that pisces brings, alongside the pleasure and security found in building a home with the person you love.
༊*·˚ ˗ pisces moon / mercury: count me out — kendrick lamar
i care too much, wanna share too much
in my head too much, i shut down too
i ain't there too much, i'm a complex soul
they layered me up, then broke me down
and moralities dust, i lack in trust
pisces moons are truly god's strongest soldiers lmfao. i spoke on this in a previous post and i'll reiterate it again because it's so real, but pisces is the only water sign without "armor", and therefore the water sign that tends to get hurt the most. and i'm speaking in terms of the archetype and not necessarily every person with prominent pisces placements when i say this (pls do not come up under this post talking about a pisces that hurt your feelings, we do not care), but pisces are very sensitive and kind-hearted by nature, and with the moon in pisces that can very easily manifest as becoming "captain save a hoe" and trying to help and fix everyone around you, even to your own detriment. in regard to having mercury in pisces, i feel like the upside is having a very romanticized way of speech and a general "poetic" ideological approach to life, and the downside is getting lost in your thoughts, as well as being misrepresented or not clearly understood in communication/connection to others, and therefore "shutting down" and opting not to speak at all.
༊*·˚ ˗ sun / venus trine or sextile neptune (natal or synastry): two weeks — fka twigs
i'll put you first, just close your eyes and dream about it
higher than a motherfucker, dreaming of you as my lover
i'll quench your thirst, just chase the high and stop your doubting
flying like a streamer, thinking of new ways to do each other
i'm not gonna hold you, i feel like this is the perfect example of a song fully encapsulating what an aspect feels like. i feel like these aspects can make someone very ethereal, they may have a tendency to come off as impersonal or "out of reach" to those around them, and are typically very intuitive and spiritually-inclined. in synastry, this could make someone view their partner through a dream-like lens. aside from neptune's malefic characteristics (which typically show up more with conjunctions or challenging aspects) it's energy paired with the sun and venus can make a relationship feel like a fairy-tale in a sense. they may have a telepathic connection with one another, visit each other or communicate through the astral realm, and their intimacy can feel like a very spiritual experience for both parties.
as always, if you have any of the aspects or placements mentioned let me know how it manifests in your own life! and if you have any songs that you feel like are representative of any placements feel free to drop them below, i'm always looking for new music to listen to!
#astro notes#astrology#venus in the 12th house#nepnotes#astro observations#12H venus#astrology notes#scorpio venus#cancer venus#8H moon#moon square pluto#moon opposite pluto#moon square saturn#moon opposite saturn#moon in the 8th house#venus in the 9th house#9H venus#8h synastry#8h placements#12h synastry#12h placements#taurus in the 9th house#sun trine lilith#sun sextile lilith#mars conjunct uranus#venus pluto aspects#venus mars aspects#astrology observations#astrology aspects#venus pluto synastry
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This has been a really hard one to talk about. I'm always very ambivalent about mourning celebrities. I try to remember that I don't know these people, that what is really mourned by most of us is the person's ongoing work, which in the best cases has helped us understand ourselves and the world in which we live. Unavoidably, though, you can start to develop the sense that you know these people personally, which isn't true or even appropriate necessarily, I mean you have no idea whether you would even like someone you've only seen on a screen or received an autograph from; but at the same time, I don't know if you can really force yourself not to feel like the deceased celebrity is a dear friend you will never get to talk to again (the last time I tried and failed was the passing of Lux Interior). Maybe this is more forgivable, and also more inevitable, if you feel like you grew up with the person.
Of course this is all about ME now, but my mother (who also died from cancer) was an extremely hip, brilliant, funny individual who for whatever reason refused to form a relationship with me. This was pretty strange, because we liked a lot of the same things--B movies, old comics, all types of camp and kitsch--but when I liked those things, it was in poor taste and punishable by exile, whereas when she liked those things, it was evidence of her cultural genius. Before I make anybody too mad I should say that I'm being a little bit unfairly reductive just so I can get to the point, which is that one of the few things we could share was Pee-Wee's Playhouse. I didn't know anything about the show's more adult origins or the fact that Paul Reubens was sort of a performance artist, but I didn't have to. Pee-Wee's Playhouse was a feast for any child's senses: stylish, hilarious, and on some subliminal level, really sophisticated. I was clued into some of what was going on just because I watched it with my mom, who always laughed at Pee-Wee's winks and nudges to the hep parents in the audience. The show might have been my first encounter with the kind of anthropological humor favored by people like David Byrne and Laurie Anderson, artists who engage subversively with cliches, stereotypes, and other memetic parts of popular culture. In Pee-Wee's Playhouse, with its sharp, edgy cast and crew, kids like me were getting into fine art without even knowing it--which is possibly the best way to learn about art anyway.
In fact, on the other side of our house, I became obsessed with Gary Panter's incredible punk opus Jimbo In Paradise, a Dantesque comic book about an innocent young guy living in a dystopian future, where he is occasionally joined by guest stars such as Nancy and Hedorah. I was about 7 when I started reading Jimbo over and over again even though I could barely understand it, and I had no idea that Gary had pretty much designed Pee-Wee's Playhouse. I'm speaking about him so familiarly because I got to know him a little bit as a grownup. I remember Gary talking about how private Paul Reubens could be. He used to do this thing where he would accept a dinner invitation from anybody who asked, as sort of a stunt, but he had to stop doing it because people became so intrusive and entitled with him. Gary said that they'd be walking around in New York and when they saw an obvious Pee-Wee fan gearing up for an offensive, Paul Reubens would sort of transform into this totally different person, putting out an aura that let you know not to fuck with him. It's crazy-making to think that someone who was so protective of the boundary between his private and public selves had to suffer that ridiculous arrest, but it's heartening that most of society eventually grew the fuck up and forgot about it. It's also helpful to remember when he turned up later on the MTV Music Video Awards and started off by asking the audience, "HEARD ANY GOOD JOKES LATELY??"
I'm glad we got one more Pee-Wee special in the past several years, but I always wished that we would see Paul Reubens in more movies. He was such a cool actor, funny, convincing, and naturally charismatic. While people are cycling through their favorite roles of his, I want to point out that he had a great role on a recent HBO miniseries called Mosaic, an intense, engrossing crime drama that I definitely recommend if you have access. Maybe I'll rewatch it, too. In closing, here's a great story that I grabbed from Facebook that should warm everybody's heart, along with the heartbreaking statement (inappropriately cropped by Instagram of course) released upon the death of the very private Pee-Wee Herman. It makes you wish you could thank him in person, for everything. The best we can do is just remember him.
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I’m so tired of seeing prolife shit, there was literally a march here in SF because… here’s the punchline:
People don’t know when they’re unwanted.
But anyway:
-Unwanted pregnancies will still be born probably forever (your precious imaginary accident baby who turns into a superhero will be fine)
-Children who are wanted by their parents have just as much liklihood of becoming doctors who cure cancer. I don’t know why that needs saying.
-Children who are wanted by their parents are also statistically more likely to be able to fucking EAT and live into adulthood because they havent thrown their parents into abject poverty, an unsustainable living situation.
-Additionally, for what it’s worth, wanted children can be abused or have terrible living situations too? Prolifers shave this obsession with the idea that children need to be abused, or unwanted, or poor and come from nothing to become incredible groundbreaking people. It’s such a fetishizing, bootstraps mindset that reeks of Catholic suffering culture. People will always suffer. Some of us just don’t want to set them up at fucking birth.
-By the way, children who arent aborted and instead are born to unfit parents can actually be taken away from those parents and put in the foster system, which I would argue is much more trauamatic and harmful than peacefully never having been fucking born.
-Whether or not any celebrity, historical figure, or god forbid fictional character could have been aborted or not has no bearing on reality because, as it happens, they were not. You are a tool of propaganda for a circle of white men who do not care if you live or die as long as they can keep raping you and people like you without concern or consequence.
“What if _____ was aborted! All the lives they changed, their positive impact never would have existed.”
That’s like saying Veggie Tales couldn’t have existed if the EXACT tomato and cucumber seeds weren’t planted, you sound fucking insane.
-People who are pro choice are more pro child than pro lifers will ever be.
-Abused, neurodivergent/disabled, and/or accidental babies can grow up to be pro choice. I am one of them.
-38% of abortions are mothers who don’t want to have any MORE children, but conservatives want to turn them into a pump and dump baby mill.
-I hazard a huge amount of the pushback on abortion from white conservatives is 1) hypocrisy, as many, like Walker, pay the girls they fuck to get them on the down low anyway, but 2) is because they know that todays unaborted poverty stricken generation, many of whom are minorities, is tomorrow’s faceless minimum wage workforce or military.
Nobody will likely bother to read this because y’all are so convinced (ahem, brainwashed) into your opinions, but the least you can do is shut the hell up about how much you want to preserve rape culture and churn babies into unfit homes and watch them fight for survival to slake your lust for a suffering underdog.
#b b but if MATILDA was ABORTED#thats like saying veggie tales couldnt happen if someone hadnt planted those specific cucumber and tomato seeds#you sound insane
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Cherik family head cannons pt. 1
Quick summary: After DOFP, Erik stays with Charles. They start to date and eventually realize that after everything maybe their more than boyfriends and end up having a small non legal marriage(because fuck 1970 or anytime before 2015) they discuss the prospect of kids. Charles has always wanted children, and Erik has always wanted a large family to stick to Shaw. But they decide there not ready for kids as they are rebuilding the school. But of course that gets ruined when a women comes to their door claiming to need their help. This women is Natalya, the ‘best fiend’ of Magda, mom of Wanda and Peitro. Magda and Erik had gotten in a relationship a little before Erik was taken to the Pentagon. That resulted in the twins. But when they were born, Wanda’s mutation manifested and well the twins were taken but a mutant control organization. Magda later died. Natalya and made it her mission to find Erik, and the kids. So a little mission gets started and Natalya, who is a witch, and Erik break into the MCO to retrieve two practical babies. And of course Charles and Erik take them in with out question. A few months later Peter and Lorna show up looking for Erik, and they are integrated into the family.
Wanda was a very quiet child, and was behind on development, while Peitro was the opposite.
Lorna was 14 when she joined the family, and when Charles and Erik became her legal guardians. But Lorna held some resentment for Erik. Her mother had recently died due to cancer and she blamed Erik for not being there. However she did find comfort in Charles and quickly accepted him as her step dad.
The first time Lorna called Erik Pa, he didn’t know how to respond and froze. She laughed.
Peter didn’t give much of a fuck, and literally five minutes after the reveal of being Erik’s son he started calling Erik Pa, and Pops.
All the kids decided that Erik was Pa and Charles is Dad.
Wanda and Peitro called him Vati as well as Pa.
Peitro’s mutation took some time manifest, but he was still fairly early. He manifested when he was two, and Lorna was the one watching the twins when it happened. He was just learning to walk and Lorna looked at Wanda for two seconds and he was gone.
Peter almost threw a party when he found out his little brother was a speedster to.
Charles burns water, Erik learns he loves to cook. Turns out Peter inherited this gift so the two are the main cookers in the family. Lorna will occasionally make pancakes and waffles from a box but that’s as much as she knows. Wanda, when she’s older, learns how to bake and loves it. Peitro only knows how to make smoothies and that’s it.
Charles was an atheist for most his life, believing in science over religion, but he understood why it was very important to Erik that the children be raised Jewish. After a few years of celebrating Shabbat, Hanukkah, Passover, and visiting the synagogue, Charles started to feel more and more comfortable in Judaism and grew a connection with it, till eventually he converted.
Because Wanda, Peitro, and Peter are Roma, and since Charles and Erik aren’t, and since Erik knows what it’s like to not be able to practice his culture, he and Charles got in contact with Magda’s brother, Django and his wife Mayra, who had recently immigrated to America, and made sure they could be Uncle Django and Aunt Mayra to the kids. They talked to the couple and explained how they wanted their children to be taught about their culture. Aunt Mayra and Uncle Django can often be found babysitting the kids or being over for family dinners.
Natalya visits the twins every now and then. To them she is Aunt Natalya. But if the twins had never taken and her dear Magda had never died, than to the twins she would have been ‘mama’. However the twins were taken, and her dear Magda did die, so she remains Aunt Natalya.
Raven is Aunt Raven to all the kids.
A speed round of the aunts and uncles: Aunt Irene, Uncle Logan, Uncle Hank, and Aunt Emma
Wanda was a selective mute when she was little. The only times she would talk would be to say the name of the person she wanted the attention of.
Charles could read her mind and so she gravitated towards him since she could have a conversation without having to talk.
Charles noticed that she had some telepathic abilities so he taught her how to send messages. She doesn’t use them often with anyone but her family.
Wanda used to hide behind Erik’s legs when she was nervous. Or she would pull on his pant leg to ask to be picked up.
With Charles, Wanda would pull on the blanket he normally has over his legs so that Charles would pick her up and she could sit on his lap.
Once Charles taught an entire class with Wanda on his lap. She eventually feel asleep.
This is part one because somehow I wrote more than what was aloud on a text post haha
#cherik#charles xavier#erik lensherr#peter maximoff#lorna dane#wanda maximoff#pietro maximoff#charles x erik#x men#proffesor x#magneto#quicksilver#polaris#scarlet witch#god they should be aloud to be happy#The Happy Cherik Universe#Cherik family#headcannons#alternate universe#raven darkholme
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Haunted Holidays
December 18: Christmas Market <-AO3 link!
Julie wasn’t sure what she was doing here. No, that wasn’t right-she was in this tiny Oregon town because her boss sent her out to scout the location for the new hotel he was building. It didn’t matter that it was almost Christmas, Julie hadn’t partaken of the holiday since the year her mother died. What was the sense of celebrating a time of love and family when the most important member of yours gets stolen by cancer?
Sure, her dad and brother were still here, but they were all pretty shaken by Rose’s sudden decline and then death that the holiday hadn’t been all that important to them either. And Julie was single, so there was no special someone to spend the time with.
So sure, why not visit some quaint little village where they actually got snow to investigate a piece of property?
It was a nice town, all told. A main drag of shops and places to eat, plenty of friendly people. It was a little Christmas crazy, which Julie could do without, but she had plans to be back in her Malibu apartment with a glass of wine by December 22’nd, so what did that matter?
The property negotiations hadn’t even hit a snag like she had been expecting-it was a run down old house with no cultural or historical significance, the owners were an older couple who wanted to retire somewhere warm, and had given it to her for a song really.
So why was she still here?
Probably because the exceptionally cute granddaughter of the owners had invited her to, Julie supposed. Kayla was super sweet, making sure Julie’s stay had been lovely, treating her to all the joys of her little town; the delectable cherry pie and aromatic dark roast at the local diner, the stables where one could rent the horses for an honest to goodness sleigh ride, the pond where all the little kids went skating.
It was like something out of a fucking greeting card.
But despite herself, Julie was having fun. Sure she cringed whenever she heard yet another rendition of Jingle Bells, and rejected every bit of holiday cheer tried to foist on her, but so far Kayla had stuck to wintery fun, and a bit of flirting that Julie wasn’t exactly immune to.
She wasn’t usually the type to have a one night fling, but it might be a nice cap to her week before she went home to see if Kayla was really as sweet as she seemed in Julie’s high thread count sheets.
However, today she knew was going to test her. It was apparently the day of the annual Christmas market, and Kayla insisted that Julie accompany her.
“Why me?”
“Well you won’t get another chance now will you?” Kayla asked. “Might get a few items knocked off your list. Plus it means we get to spend more time together.” Kayla had blushed at that, and Julie reflected it in her own cheeks, finally relenting to go.
“But no caroling, and no eggnog!” she said.
“Spoilsport,” Kayla chided, and told her to bundle up, because of course it was an outdoor market. At least Julie had packed accordingly, even if her stylish leather gloves got in the way of feeling Kayla’s hand when she pulled Julie towards the stalls.
The first few stalls were distinctly holiday themed; wreaths of holly, wooden Santas for your doors, nutcrackers for your living room, and piles upon piles of mistletoe. Julie had no interest in those. The next few she liked though; thick leather bound journals, home knitted sweaters and mittens, and heaps of baked goods.
“You wanna split a cookie?” Kayla offered, and Julie agreed, almost moaning with delight at the flavours of white chocolate and cranberries as she bit into the treat, and made a point of getting a dozen of them to bring home with her, though she very much doubted they would survive until then.
They kept walking hand in hand, pursuing the wares, though they didn’t end up buying much. Kayla shoved a warm wool hat down over Julie’s curls, so Julie got her a nice neck warmer in thanks, they both picked up a few bars of soap, with Julie totally not on purpose getting a bar of the one Kayla claimed she loved as well.
“You see anything you want to get your family?” Kayla asked as they got closer to displays of ornaments and decorations.
“We-we don’t really celebrate Christmas,” Julie told her. “My mom passed around then back when I was a teenager, so it hurt too much for us to do it after that.”
“Oh Julie, I’m so sorry,” Kayla said, clutching her hands together. “I figured that maybe you were just a bit of a Scrooge, and I could maybe cheer you up, but… I won’t push any more holiday cheer on you, I promise.”
“I haven’t minded it too much,” Julie admitted. “It’s been over a decade, so it doesn’t hurt as much, but I always miss her most this time of year.”
“Will you tell me about her?” Kayla asked.
So Julie did, leading them to a secluded spot where she told Kayla all about her mom over steaming cups of cider and shared bites of fudge. About how losing her mom killed her love for the holiday season when it used to be her favourite time of year. How much it hurt to lose it, and how it had caused such a rift in her family because they couldn’t process their grief.
Kayla sat there through it all, listening, not offering advice or platitudes, but an open heart and an arm around Julie, giving her the strength to go on. Wiping away her tears and offering Julie the last bit of fudge in order to make her smile.
“You know, I didn’t always love this time of year either,” Kayla remarked. “My folks were about to split up, and then left me with lola and zǔfù so they could work on their marriage. Then it was easier on them to just… not come back. They send cards and call every so often. But they always made me feel like I was the reason they were fighting, when they just weren’t a good fit.”
She looked at Julie, giving her a small smile. “I was angry for a long time. Didn’t exactly lead to the easiest upbringing for my poor grandparents. But eventually they got me a good therapist, and between that and the people here, the season won me over again.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through all that,” Julie said, squeezing her hands.
Kayla shrugged. “It made me who I am. Plus it’s nice, always having this place left to come back to. I can’t wait to see what you do with the old house when I return next year.”
“You don’t live here?” Julie asked.
“No way!” Kayla said with a laugh. “I live in a nice bungalow near Venice Beach, I work for the LA Ballet, I’m only here for the holidays.”
“Oh wow, for some reason I thought this was your home,” Julie said, blushing.
“I mean it is, and always will be,” Kayla replied. “But I live in LA. So maybe after the holidays… we could do something together? See each other more?”
“I’d like that, maybe for New Years?” Julie suggested, and Kayla’s answering smile was all she needed in response. “Alright, I can’t wait. But for now… how about we go get some eggnog?”
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Gooddd I’m so worried about how Ganondorf and/or the gerudo will be portrayed.
American directors are racist AS FUCK with middle eastern or middle eastern-coded characters. Because America has a very ugly ongoing perception of the middle east.
And, yes, I know Japanese people are not stupid and know what racism is, but, recognizing what is offensive in certain cultures can be a lot more difficult what you are not from that culture (huge example being Americans loving Attack On Titan, but Koreans considering it dangerous propaganda)
It’s also no secret that Nintendo doesn’t actually know anything about properly representing Middle Eastern people without at least some level of offensive inaccuracy. (like gerudo showing a ton of skin while out in the desert, even though that’s extremely dangerous lmao. How does Urbosa not have skin cancer.).
I am VERY worried that, because if this, Nintendo will allow rampant racism from an American director without getting the cultural context for why it’s so racist. And ofc no one will care because like half the American population is racist, anyway
They could avoid some of this by casting a mixed asian actors as Link and Zelda, instead of full white actors. Hylian culture is not just european-influenced. There’s a ton of east asian cultural influence, as well. So, it actually makes a lot more sense for them to look more on the mixed side. But I doubt Sony will actually take any of that into consideration.
Let’s just pray to God that we get a movie more like Spiderverse, that actually celebrates different cultures. And not have it turn into some weird anti-middle east propaganda bullshit.
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This thing with birthdays
My mother turned 63 yesterday. When I congratulated her, she huffed.
"It stops becoming much of a celebration, when you get older" she said, or something to that effect, and it made me sad.
We live in a culture so terrified of aging. And I guess when you start getting up there, the inevitable end becomes an increasingly looming presence with every year that passes. But it hasn't got you yet, and i think that's the important thing.
Our lives are painfully short. Every day, millions of people die in all manner of ways. Sometimes it's expected, failing health, dangerous occupations, long standing blood feuds, etc. Other times, it's out of nowhere. Something undetected. Something that could happen to anyone. Freak accidents. Wrong place wrong time. Occasionally even murder. You name it, somebody's died from it. Every day. Millions of people.
So, Mum (and every person growing to dread that circle on the calendar), you're 63 years old. For 63 years, you have avoided being one of those millions. For 63 years, you have endured the dangers of the world and come out on top. When every year could be your last, and it could be, for every single person on the planet, making it to the next one is a cause for celebration. When you had cancer a few years back, suddenly future years became terrifyingly uncertain. So bet your ass every year we've had since, with you healthy and whole, has been a fucking gift. Every birthday is another year we got to have together. Pop that birthday on the mantle like a trophy, cos that's exactly what it is.
So happy fucking birthday Mum, and every other person out there, and here's to many more.
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jack in the box thoughts if u care. warning this got long as hell and obviously i am reading potentially sus english translations soooo take all of this with many large pinches of salt. JUST LET ME LIVE, I LOVE TO ANALYZE SHIT OKAY.
god i really love this intro a lot. it's giving audiobook in the car lmao but i do think it's the perfect introduction to the concepts of the album for those who are maybe unfamiliar
"hope gave people the will to carry on living amidst the pain and strife" no lies detected
okay but his TONE on pandora's box and the way his voice gets more and more intense it's like.... you can hear the pressure of all of it building. omg. ALSO THIS FUCKING CHORUS.
fucking hell i love this style of music for him it puts his unique and versatile voice on display so well. nothing to distract from it.
more dance break ✨✨✨ still such a banger ugh
OKAY THE BEAT OF STOP..... and wow these lyrics. "there are no bad people in the world" i'm sorry did y'all hear that???? pretty sure jung hoseok just said transformative justice???? abolish prisons and policing?????? ahem sorry i'll stop
AHHHH I WASN'T READY FOR = (equal sign)
HE SAID TRANSCEND/BEYOND GENDER..... I'M ASCENDING......... i'm ready for the post-gender future,, hoseok take me with u 🥺
oh my god his VOICE and the VIBE of this chorus...... give it to me 90s fantasy!!!! I NEED MORE HOBI FALSETTO ALL THE TIME WHY HAS HE BEEN HIDING THIS FROM US i'm driving directly to hybe to FIGHT SOMEONE
music box: reflection ...... *chuckles* i'm in danger (DO IT HOBI UNLEASH THE SLEEP PARALYSIS DEMON DO IT DO IT)
oh my artistic analysis ass is LIVING for this directly after equal sign so much to fucking UNPACK abt the concepts of equality vs. like, actual justice OOH OOH OOOOOOOH
damn i literally just had to take a breather when what if... started. no offense to those who love it but sooome of the lyrics in equal sign rang a teensy bit hollow to me (i am sooooo over the 'we are one race 😌 the human race 😌' crap ya know,, although there were definitely a lot of great parts abt respecting differences/not needing to all be absolutely the same in there too! i am not dragging the song lol!!!)
and for him to turn around and slap us in the face with THIS?????? oh i am RIGHT THERE WITH U HOBI omfg. like IT'S NOT THAT SIMPLE....
HE REALLY SAID MAYBE IT'S ABT MY PRIVILEGE AND NOT JUST MY WILL OH MY GOD. KING SHIT.
"I wonder what hardships and ordeals mean to you
Since you only walked up intact stairs"
!!!!!!!!!!! JUNG HOSEOK
holy fuck i need someone to come hold my hand. i may not survive to the end of this album.
god this idea that it's so fucking easy to talk abt hope and optimism (and yes, equality!!!) when you live a privileged life. i'm literally about to fucking cry. i love it so much i cannot BREATHE.
thank god for the whiplash of safety zone i need these tears to go back up into my eyeballs lmao
ooooof these lyrics tho. i have so many feelings abt celebrity/idol culture and gosh i just wanna give him a hug. it's gotta be so hard to feel like there are so few people you can trust and be entirely safe around or even just points where you feel like you can actually REST (my trauma brain sure knows that firsthand 🤪 and honestly i'd imagine being an idol impacts the brain similarly to complex trauma..... i am js,, we can unpack that later if y'all want)
"I like animals better than people these days" - felt, hobi, felt.
future is such a cute lil bop aaa! i appreciate him reminding us that HE needs to be given hope too 💜 AS I CANCER I CAN RELATE TO ENDLESSLY GIVING.... you gotta help yourself before you can help others babe!!!!
this song is so lovely ~ it's giving positive nihilism ✨ and that sometimes it's okay to take the next step even if you don't know what's coming and you're scared. i hope he feels this way about the hiatus honestly 🥺 babe absolutely deserves it
ugh and arson as a closer feels so damn correct. i watched the MV already so it's not my first time hearing it but this after everything else we just went through...... it's so fucking perfect. burn down all the shit that no longer serves you.
and i also just love the metaphor of everything he's been through being like arson bc it's like, sure, "i set the fire".... but obv he (and all of bangtan) had NO IDEA it would get as big as it has (like any out of control fire).... really i'm sure they felt like they *had* no control after a certain point. seriously the perfect metaphor for it. uncontrolled burn that eventually either has to burn out or keep going and engulf the mf world. and i trust them to make the right choice. 💜
damn alright well. i have tears in my eyes still. what a fantastic fucking album. i am so proud of / in love with this man. and 'what if' is OBVIOUSLY my favorite song it's not even fucking close sdjfkljsf
DAMN LOLLAPALOOZA MIGHT ACTUALLY KILL ME
#mposting#hope u enjoyed my essay✨#it got unhinged once what if.... came on#i'll never be over that song holy shit
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TL,DR at the bottom. I'm gonna talk alot.
🎆✨️ And with that, the 2022 season has come to an end. What do I say about that? ✨️🎆
Life's wild, ain't it? This time last year, I had covid. Had to quarantine for two weeks in my apartment and settle for watching the distant fireworks throughout the neighborhood from my living room window.
It was the beginning of many things. I took the two weeks to try to be more than a human whose whole personality was working all the time. I started to learn how to cook. I began to practice yoga. I watched a LOT of YouTube video essays.
Shortly before I got covid, I was trying to watch all the relevant Marvel movies and shows to see No Way Home in theaters. Depression really liked to eat my memories and keep me from watching any of the Tom Holland Spider-Man movies. Which broke my heart because Spider-Man was my first and favorite Marvel character for the majority of my life. I'd never seen Doctor Strange (2016) before, and after six years, all I got out of it was my dilf fetish and comfort character, Doctor Stephen Strange. Armed with a new fictional boyfriend and time on my hands, I got back into ❤️🔥𝖋𝖆𝖓𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓❤️🔥.
Reacquainted myself with ao3 and eventually followed my favorite writers back here.
Tumblr. The Doctor Strange fanfiction community. The Benedict Cumberbatch fans. You guys truly make this place feel like a site I WANT to be on. How happy you are to interact with your readers. How you actively crave and encourage it. How you'll talk about your real-life problems and stresses. How you remind me every day this site is horny jail, and we love that for us. People like @wint3r-h3art and @dino-fart have become people I enjoy seeing a message from.
Its been said before, but fuck it. Reading your writings has been a spot of brightness in my life. A breath of fresh air after working inside a stuffy room all day. A candle you protect with your hand against the wind on your way to light a birthday cake. You people took a strictly completed works only, explicit rated smut reader and have me equally as happy reading about queer platonic dynamics with this old white man. Can't forget to shout out a little love for my Namor y Attuma homies, too. I want to sit on Attuma meaty thighs and be baby girl. 🎀
I'm very behind on a lot of stories from various people on here. But my goal is to catch up a little every night so I can enjoy all the hard work and love you guys pour into each one.
Most of my life, I felt limited. I didn't deserve love, kindness, boundaries, or space to express myself freely through my bedroom or clothes. Dad died of cancer when I was two, and I had an abusive stepfather until I was seventeen. I never traveled outside of Chicago or the Chicagoland area in general more than once every five or six years. I worked jobs since I was sixteen to struggle to pay to have some sort of life. I had some wack ass core beliefs about myself.
I'm currently in New York with a good friend of mine and fellow artist Claü. Her Instagram is @claudiarts because we support the people we love, goddammit. We celebrated the new year at a dive bar, eating grapes under the table so I can finally get some decent dick or pussy from a decent human this year. Maybe a real cool friend with benefits. Maybe a Splenda Pappy that I can work some unresolved issues out on his dick.
After that, I had a nice blackout that led to us losing half the next day and finally trying New York pizza.
New York is Chicago with organized chaos. Surprisingly, the people are not as mean as I was led to believe. It's like how everyone talks about all the gun violence in Chicago. Meanwhile, Peoria, IL, is sitting in the corner hoping nobody notices it. Everyone looks so fashionable. The food is mouth-watering. The architecture is spectacular. This place is ALIVE. It makes me want to travel even more. Become more cultured. Worldly.
Gotta make sure to go take a selfie in front of Doctor Strange's place.
I've been tattooing for a little over two years now. Managing it for a year and a half. It pays more than enough. I can afford insurance. I have an apartment by myself. My fridge is always full. I still sometimes can't believe I'm a real successful tattoo artist. I've debated posting my art and tattoos on here or linking my actual Instagram. I'm grateful every day I get to do my dream job.
I still daydream of affection and love. But, I have a small group of coworkers at the shop who I can truly call friends. I have male friends who actually like me as the perverted, all black wearing, tomboy who likes to draw dicks. They're some real ones. With the support system I'm building, I can eventually tackle dating dating. Just gotta keep working on myself and wait for the thumbs up from my therapist.
Unfortunately, a few minutes into the new year, my mom's apartment was part of the apartments in her building that got damaged by a fire. A fire started by a 90 something year old neighbor lady who never thought leaving a candle next to a Christmas tree was somehow a bad idea. So that leaves my mom, brother, and sister without a place to stay. Except now, they're sleeping over at my apartment, and I knew I should have put my dildo and Hitachi away before I left. Fuck my life, Bing bong. It be like that sometimes.
Anyways, I've been typing this for over an hour already. So Happy New Year, wishing everyone a better year than the last, and to never lose sight of who you are.
TL,DR: Happy New Year, Tumblr writers make the world a better place to be in, tattooing, Doctor Strange, I deserve things, and my mom's homeless.
#happy new year#long post#if it looks like a duck and sounds like a duck its just trauma dumping#but mostly good news#might be disjointed#made sense in my head#Spotify
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You know, I feel it’s not fair for news sources to ONLY be covering the people that are mourning, what about the people that are fucking pissed that this is being used as an excuse to further ignore the cost of living crisis? The people whose CANCER TREATMENTS have been forcibly rescheduled? People celebrating the death of a woman who contributed to the genocide of their people and culture? UK territories trying to take this opportunity to leave their colonizers?
It’s highly inaccurate to say everyone is mourning her, and disrespectful to the people who are suffering and dying while the UK government ignores their suffering, closes hospitals and food banks, all for a dead, racist, figurehead with pedophile children.
#justice for us citizens both willing and unwilling#the queen#Queen Elizabeth#jess says stuff#royalists dni
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Cancel culture is one of the worst things ever and so is celebrity worship. Both literally should never be a thing. Plus people learn and grow???? I get people say controversial things but if they're willingly going to be educated on it and fucking grow and change as a person, accept it. If they're always controversial and don't fucking grow after being educated on it and being told why they're being a dick? Fine then tell them to go die in a ditch after many people have tried
Cancel culture, celebrity worship, and the current state of fandom are a cancer. Read this article yesterday that truly painted how bleak the state of affairs is right now.
Every item linked within the article is fantastic but particularly read the two linked in this paragraph:
The D3pp-Heard trial has refined the Gam3rgate playbook in a way that will haunt us for years to come. It has proven to extremists that if you rally around the right beloved public figure or institution, blanket them in a protective sphere of outrage and misinformation, and weaponize fandom culture — already so prone to ideological radicalization and irrational groupthink — you can successfully push whatever media narrative you want into the mainstream.
They're a little older but still amazing. You even get a Clexa fandom reference in one even though we're painted as the bad guys lol.
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Why do so many people have a literal boner for Depp? I’m an equestrian and I literally have seen people shaving portraits of him into their horses fur 💀 these people are so fucking weird, obsessing over a celebrity who was equally as abusive as amber. The internet is cancer omg God save us all
If you weren't born in the 80s-90s you have no idea of how BIG Depp was. He was the ultimate teenage heartthrob. He was much bigger than what Timothée Chalamet or Harry Style will ever be. He was THE face. THE moment.
That's why the the historical revisionism of anti Depp zoomers who are like "this dude has never been hot anyway!!" is cringe xD They have no idea of what they're talking about and it shows.
It's okay to admit someone awful has been/is hot lol. I personally think Ezra Miller has been the most beautiful man to walk this planet at some point, but I grasp he's become a creepy abusive themlet
*sigh* I can't believe he ruined these looks bc of drugs & self inducted dementia.... Waste of the millennium*
It also because of iconic roles such as Edward Scissorhands/everything he did with Tim Burton, Pirates of the Caribbean, 21 Jump Street, etc. that Depp that cemented himself as one of Hollywood most outstanding actors who managed to be loved by plentiful of people from all generations... Unlike what his antis, who cannot see past the reductive "anyone who supports a male over a woman is because of misogyny", say, this emotional connection with an actor who paved the cultural landscape for so long is beyond gender, and it explains his overall support from the general public - not only the internet. Depp was popular much before the internet and socials even existed.
On the opposite, Heard is rumoured to be pretty unlikeable in private and has had several drama with acquittances/family members because of her bad behavior. That's why normies (beside blue checkmark activists/celebrities on twitter and feminists/radfem) have a hard time rooting for her like that. I know it's a hard to swallow pill for her supporters, but regular people aren't going to go out of their way to defend someone unlikable just bc she's a victim....¯\_(ツ)_/¯
#if anything the Heard support movement relies more on the internet online activism#that also explain why Heard supporters are pissy at Depp supporters rallying outside the court#bc it reminds them beside online activism and editorials no one really care about her IRL#but you can be sure if the Amber support movement was bigger online and IRL they wouldn't cuss against the evul internet lobby#or ask for the jury to be sequestered lol#answered
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i'm tired of pretending like what i did needs to be forgiven, and also that you're sorry
draft of a story about dying, and the things we say or do around it (incomplete)
for the week of January 28th, prompts were "heaven, necklace, tree."
CW for slurs, homophobia, cancer, transphobia, mentions of drug use
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Trees get smaller as you grow up. You used to think it was because you were small and the trees were very, very large. They used to span up over your head, into the air, into infinity, but when you look around the neighborhood now, forty years passing, it’s that the trees have definitely gotten smaller.
This is how I feel, at least. This town’s been growing, and as more people come in, more trees leave. They replant the trees, sure, but the ones put in are smaller and frailer. I think a lot about the copse I used to smoke weed with in the nineties, where the trees blocked out most of the sun but just enough got through the leaves that the patterns on the grass became mystifying with each puff. That copse is gone now, ripped out to make room for a strip mall. The trees there are spread far apart, each one barely fifteen feet tall, and they’re smaller.
I can see it from the side of my car as I stop for a smoke break. Coming home is a bitch. Everything always changes. I’m pretty sure the high school in this backwater is no longer a hick high, where being an open dyke makes you less of a target. It probably even has a Gay-Straight Alliance, given how trendy among Gen Z being queer is. But the rules are stricter now, aren’t they? Once something stops being counter-culture, it starts to form its own status quo. Think of how this town used to treat me, and now think of how this town celebrates June. On my sister’s Facebook, I’ve seen advertisements for the pride celebration. Probably exceedingly tame, and exceedingly corporate. Fuck.
I take a drag on my cigarette, looking out at those pathetic little trees. Coming home. I haven’t done this in years, but the sperm donor’s on his way out, and I’m a fucking idiot. I’m giving him one last chance to look me in the face and decide if this boy-girl creature that I’ve become is worth forgiving. Not that I think I need forgiveness, but there’s some bullshit saying about making peace with your enemies. And yeah, the Dad that slapped me for shaving my head when I was 15 is definitely one of those.
The only reason I know they’re still here is that I’m in contact with my younger sister. Even now, I’m texting her about the arrangements and when I can come by. Ellie’s a saint, as some would say, or just spineless. She can’t handle confrontation, and because of that, she’s been put in charge of the sperm donor through his chemo. The two older siblings, who don’t talk to me, are apparently too busy with their perfect families to lift a finger to help him, not when Ellie’s there to dump everything on.
Dumbass Ellie. Too subservient for her own good. That’s probably why she’s the only one that talks to me, too, because she’s scared of rejecting me at all. Her texts come through soft and mousey, each one a slight suggestion. “What time is good for you?” she’d say, and I’d say, “What about one?” and she’ll go, “No, I think Dad is sleeping at one. Do you have a better time?” Just tell me what time to come over, god fucking dammit. We’ve finally settled on four, and she’s asking me about dinner. “What do you want?”
I know it’s a trap. Ellie’s got something picked out, something in her heart, but she wants it to feel like it’s my idea because if she stands up for anything at all, she’s pushing people away. She wants me to feel like she’s making me feel welcome. I hate her so much, and yet I keep in contact with her, too. Because she’s family, and she’s technically all I fucking have. I have the in-laws, technically, but one of them’s going down the dementia hole and the other isn’t coping well, so it’s not like I can talk to them casually. But Ellie’s around, and it helps that I don’t see her often. We keep in touch with pokes on Facebook, texts occasionally sent on birthdays, and selfies seen through the only social we share. And in those moments, I almost miss her.
Until I’m talking to her again, cigarette in one hand and phone in the other, trying to play “guess the restaurant” and get the answer right. Family fucking sucks. Why do I bother, I think as I take a drag. I could leave, and spend the entire day curled up in my hotel, and fly home tomorrow like I planned on it. There’s no way in hell I’m staying longer than tonight. Ellie’s going to try to talk me out of it, but I can’t. Even if it goes well, I can’t.
In many ways, it would almost be worse, wouldn’t it?
“How about pizza?” I finally text, after three other suggestions are thrown out. Chinese food gives her the shits, apparently. Ordering sandwiches is a waste of money, or so she’s suggested with her passive redirection. And Dad’s not really in the mood for burgers. So, I’ve got it. Pizza. The bitch wants pizza.
A few seconds later, I get a, “Pizza is fine.” A few more seconds later, I’m swearing and stomping out my cigarette as the new guessing game shows up. “What kind of pizza?”
---
If you listened to my mother tell it, it was over a necklace. It wasn’t even a particularly expensive one, just a simple golden chain with a cross and a small lab-grown gem in the center. A birthday present, expensive for our middle class family, that I ungratefully spat back in their face. I was a bitch, couldn’t just accept being a good girl, and nothing was worth dealing with my disgusting dyke ass.
If you’ve ever had parents that would rather you kill yourself than be gay, you know it was a long list of various breaking points that led to me throwing the necklace across the room and screaming that I’d rather be anywhere but there. Another spit in the face, another birthday getting make-up and dresses and frilly clothing in an attempt to fix me. And I was seventeen and not particularly emotionally stable, so how could I have stopped myself?
The way Ellie put it is that my father is willing to forgive me, and I’m not sure if I’m going to throw it back in his face or take it gracefully. I’m not seventeen anymore, and this isn’t the nineties. And sure, I survived being homeless. I crashed on friends’ couches, dropped out of school, and started full-time at the Dairy Queen. Then I threw together as much money as I could and moved with my friend Desiree to the nearest city, where we quickly realized we hated living with each other and it wouldn’t last much longer than the lease.
Sometimes I think about Des. Last I checked, she’s gotten married to a man that looks extremely boring, nothing like the men she used to dream about back then. They’ve had kids. They’ve grown up. And while I have, too, it doesn’t look like Des. I live in a two-bedroom apartment with my spouse, Brooke, and roommate, and while it’s a good location in Los Angeles, it’s generally agreed that none of us are ever going to be able to have kids. We’re too old and too broke. We’d have to leave the city, probably move to a red state, and my spouse isn’t as resilient as I am. I could survive, maybe. He couldn’t. He’s lived in California all his life, and while I love him to death, there’s a softness to him that I don’t quite want to ruin.
That’s why he’s not with me. He had offered, but I’m not willing to explain his presence, and I don’t think my sperm donor deserves to know him. I’ve got a few texts from him on my phone, asking me about the flight and how well things are going, and I’m not sure I can deal with telling him that I am going to kill my sister and end up in prison for the rest of my life.
I drive down the road where I grew up, and it almost looks the same. This part of the town, at least, has been untouched by the development of new businesses. Most of the houses are well-kept. I wonder if they’ve started an HOA; it would be just like them to try to keep undesirables off the block. I personally can’t stand lawns, which is part of why I didn’t move back to the suburbs even when we had to take a roommate just to keep rent.
Pulling up to the house, I think it looks just as shitty as it did back then. I park in front, because I’m not comfortable being in the driveway. It feels too close, too oppressive. I sit out in the front for a while and wonder if I sit here long enough, the neighbors will call the cops on me. “Scary bald butch in your neighborhood. Might convince your daughters to cut off their tits.” It’s a thought, and that’s how they think it works, right? Then I catch something in the neighbor’s yard: one of those progress flag “everyone is welcome here” sign boards.
Is that how we’re doing things now?
I guess I don’t look quite as shocking. Bald head, piercings, but I’ve chosen a relatively muted outfit. A normal pair of shorts, a normal tank-top for the summer heat. I could have dressed worse. I glance up at the door to the house, its imposing oak wood telling me that this is my last chance to run.
It swings open, and I’m so tired of running. Sighing, I unbuckle my seatbelt and get out of the rental. I slam the door shut behind me. Ellie is there, thin as a wire, walking down the steps and waving me over.
It’s too late now. She’s spotted me, and so I must stride, headlong, into the jaws of the beast. I exit the rental car, praying for no hugs as I head up the walkway. She calls my deadname and reaches for me, but I stare her down in such a way that she drops her arms.
“I told Dad you were coming,” she says.
“Any reason why you wouldn’t?”
She hesitates. “Well, I didn’t think you’d actually come, much less stay for dinner.” I didn’t promise that. I hope she remembers that I said maybe to dinner. “He really does want to spend time with you,” she adds.
I clench my jaw so hard that I think my teeth are going to crack. I remember my mom crying and begging me to reconsider my lifestyle, that I wouldn’t go to heaven if I kept this up. I remember the necklace. I remember his hand in the hair I was forced to keep, yanking hard. Why am I here? “I bet he does,” I say instead, as neutral as I can.
We stand on the porch for a few minutes, stewing in the awkwardness of the moment, and I wonder if I made a mistake not cutting off Ellie like the rest. She wants peace, but does she care about what’s best for me? I don’t even know if I know what’s best for me. She twiddles her fingers, picking at her cuticles and the chipped paint on her nails. Then she clears her throat. “You should come inside.”
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And Our Award for Most Out of Place Celebrity Hack Goes to...
Some time ago, I wrote how Video Games do not need Oscars. That was a thought piece of why award shows were terrible, biased messes, a spectacle trying to dictate what a good game looks like. And my feelings have not changed, in that respect.
But with The Gacha Awards 2023, it has only gotten worse. The actual creators were told to get off the stage right after receiving their award. The celebrities? They were given carte blanche. Ads for Fortnite, as though it needed any? Let's put it this way: Of the three hours this cancerous blob took up, there were only 48 minutes of relevance. Only 48 minutes of honoring the people that made this worthless, bloated show possible. Only 48 minutes dedicated to creators.
It has been said before by numerous journalists, Let's Players and people who actually know what they're talking about, but I'm going to say it anyway: This is Fucking Disgraceful.
Geoff Keighley, the hairbrain behind this spectacle, has claimed to try to "elevate" videogames to the level of film, making an "Oscars". He has never worked on developed a game in his entire life, I should mention. In reality, he sees videogames as a way to get rich and become a celebrity. Entered into the field of video games as a fledgling medium because he couldn't hack it in any other form of entertainment. He took advantage of the relative inexperience.
"Well, at least, there was G4." Have you seen G4 lately? We tolerated it because TV was still the primary outlet of media. All G4 has been was a vain attempt to grasp at relevance, failing to see that TV was (and still is) on its way out. Once that died, far more talented creators took up the slack and make up a much deeper understanding of the source material. LGR, Second Wind and countless others have put more thought and effort than the early 00s nonsense of that TV channel.
And The Gutted Awards of 2023 is revealing in this respect. Keighley's blatant disrespect for creators is laid bare. He does not represent the medium. Period. He's too wrapped up in celebrity culture to care and give the videogame industry what it deserves. He has said nothing of the countless layoffs that have happened across developers, and has become a cartoonishly stereotypical vision of elitist rich abuse. Especially with the economic downturn of the last 20 years. He should have had the creators' back. He didn't, he doesn't, and he never will.
Above all, what Geoff fails to realize is that the videogame industry has surpassed films in multiple respects, especially in terms of income. And it accomplished this without his little circle jerk, without random celebrities and without his show. You could remove the awards show and lose nothing. The trailers? Just put them online like a normal person.
The Gollum Awards does not deserve the attention, the creators or the spectators it receives. It is a relic of an older mindset where videogames need to play second class citizen next to the "grown ups". There are plenty of big names in the industry, but this show is not going to acknowledge them.
Fans, stop watching this mess. Wait for the damn trailer to come up online. Creators, stop attending this. You deserve more than a paperweight coated with their utter disrespect. A message needs to be sent to these hacks or videogames will always be made to play second fiddle.
And Keighley, just go. We don't want to see your brown nosing. We don't want your damn awards. And we certainly do not need your "prestige". You are no Hideo Kojima, you are no Shinji Mikami, you are no Jordan Mechner, and you are no John Carmack or John Romero. You're not even a Todd Howard*. You're a lucky hack with delusions of eloquence.
[* Sorry, Todd, you're easy to pick on, I love your games.]
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