My tumblr doesn’t like me so often when I try and follow or like things from this account it does it from my other account :( if you see @mr--awkward in your notifs it’s me
Noah Kahan

oozey mess

#extradirty

Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
Color Me Curious
The Bowery Presents
YOU ARE THE REASON
untitled
almost home
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
cherry valley forever
The Stonewall Inn

Kiana Khansmith

Discoholic 🪩

Phantogram Three
Cosmic Funnies
seen from United Kingdom
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seen from Germany
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seen from Malaysia
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Netherlands
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany

seen from Germany

seen from Iraq

seen from Germany
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seen from Brazil
seen from TĂĽrkiye
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seen from Malaysia

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@mr--awkward
My tumblr doesn’t like me so often when I try and follow or like things from this account it does it from my other account :( if you see @mr--awkward in your notifs it’s me

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some books will hit your gut but ... song of achilles? that shit changes you. that shit grabs your face and says, have you ever experienced raw, visceral, and painful love? here it is between two souls who simply cannot he parted. here it is in the context of war and revenge. in the emotional ambiguity of childhood. like ... this is epic romance that stories strive to achieve. its heartbreak, but not only heartbreak—sheer misery. it’s knowing how the story ends and still reading on because, well, isn’t that what love is? true love? even when you know it won’t end the way it should, you push on? because this person has embedded themselves in your heart and there’s no a out? I’ve read this book three times. every single time I realize how painful love can be and will be, and the reality that the truest form of it survives among adversity. it’s being made of memories. it’s golden urns pouring out the sun. song of achilles says, not only is this a tragic story of love, but it is tragic because love was there all along. thank you madeline miller.
Not Everyone Gets A Happily Ever After
***TW: this poem is honestly super depressing so if you’re already struggling it’s probably best if you stay clear of it. It might hit too close to home for some people, especially anyone from the lgbtq+ community. Warnings for: depression, suic*de, guns, knives, etc. Also please don’t let this poem affect you or your actions. It’s just the ramblings of a queer 20 year old lol please don’t let this make you give up hope. If you relate to this and you want to talk, feel free to message me idk maybe we can be sad together haha. Also if you’re struggling please contact your local suicide prevention helpline. You don’t deserve to die. Ok yeah here it is ***
People like me
Don’t get happily ever afters
We don’t get choices, we get instructions
Destined to live the life of someone else’s dreams
I should be grateful
That’s what they all say
Sure I may hate myself and hate my life and it’s not what I want and they’re not my dreams
But they’re still dreams, even if they’re someone else’s, and I should be grateful to be living them
In all honesty
If you want my life you can have it. Take it.
Take it with a knife. A bullet. A rope.
Take it slowly and violently, do what I’ve been too scared to do myself, do what I’ve been wanting for years, just take it
I don’t give a damn
And people ask, if you hate it so much why don’t you just leave? Just fuck it all and do what makes you happy, right?
I wish it was that easy
I wish I didn’t care so much about my parents stupid disappointed faces
I wish I didn’t care how many tears they would cry
I wish I didn’t care what people said about me
I wish I didn’t care about my dumbass little siblings and cousins, all looking up to me, finding out one day that I’m just gone and I’ve abandoned them all
I wish I didn’t care about my childhood best friends, who love me dearly but would never understand if I tried to explain why
I could name dozens of people who’d be hurt if I did what I truly wanted to do
On one hand, fuck them all. It’s my life. It’s my life and don’t I get a say? Don’t I matter?
But on the other, how could I be so selfish
I don’t know
We all die anyways
How much time do I even have left?
Would it even be worth it?
I’ve accepted the cold hard truth
Not everyone gets a happily ever after
Not people like me
Not me
Things I Type but Never Send
Words words words
Weapons and gifts
They can break hearts and bridge rifts
If you use them wisely
Words words words
There are so many
Words are free and for your thoughts, a penny
Yet all I do is think
And I never know what to say
The right words go by and the right time slips away
How many times did I type
I miss you let’s meet up
But I didn’t hit send
There were times I typed
I’m in love with you
But I deleted it as fast as I could
I hate you
I want to see you
You’re the worst person I know
Will you go out on a date with me
I’m sorry
Words words words
Thousands of languages
Millions of words
And yet they all seem to escape me
Words are free and for your thoughts, a penny
Yet all I do is think
And I never know what to say
I think and I type
And my thoughts never end
I always type and never hit send
I’m Your Favourite Pawn and Your Least Favourite Piece
You need me the most
But you won’t admit it
You laugh and you boast
But your plan fails without me in it
I do the most damage
I take the most hits
Without me you couldn’t manage
Yet you yell at me and throw fits
You say I’m the worst
I’m dumb and disappointing
You claim that I’m cursed
Yet I’m the one you’re always appointing
Front line, front and centre
Figurehead and defender
Advocate and representer
Charming and full of splendour
I’m your favourite pawn
And your least favourite piece
Yet despite everything I’ve undergone
My loyalty doesn’t seem to decrease

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Passing By
No need to pull out a chair for me
I won’t be taking a seat
I’m only passing by
No need to know what name to call me
This is the first and last time we meet
I’m only passing by
No need for gifts or trinkets or jewellery
I don’t want anything to eat
I’m only passing by
Always the stranger always the guest
I come and go
I laugh, I cry, I play, I jest
Nothing to leave behind and nowhere to go
I just want to stop somewhere
I just want to rest
But no need to worry about me
I don’t want to impose
I’m only passing by
My Villain, Everybody Else’s Hero
***TW: mentions of verbal and physical abuse***
Enchanting smile
Blinding white teeth, soft lips
The same lips that hurl insults at me
And will do it again when we get home
But they seem to do the opposite whenever we’re in public
Giving compliments, telling everyone what they love to hear
Strange
Beautiful hands
Firm handshakes, friendly claps on people’s shoulders
The same hands that’ve left red marks on my face
And will do it again when I make them mad
But they seem to do the opposite whenever we’re in public
Strange
Magnetic personality
People are drawn to them, they love being around them
The same person that turns spiteful and sour
And will do it again when their attention turns to me
But they seem to be the opposite in public
Strange
My best friend says, “they’re so nice, you’re overreacting”
I feel a knot in my chest
I’ve told my friend what happens when no one’s there
But they don’t believe me
They’ve been hypnotized by their charm
Someone else says, “They’re the most compassionate person I’ve ever met”
I nearly scoff out loud
“They’ve been there for me when no one else was”
Everything inside me burns
“You’re so lucky to have them, I wish I was you”
No no no you’re all wrong
You have no idea who they really are
They’re horrible, ugly, evil
But no one knows except me
Loved by all, adored by the masses
Are they really that bad if the only one they’ve ever hurt is me?
One out of a million
Does it even matter how they treat me if they treat everyone else better?
My villain, everybody else’s hero
What if I was the real villain all along
For hating the person everyone else loves
What if I deserve it
Strange
All I'm saying is, if a fic refers to characters by their physical attributes instead of their names or pronouns ("he smiled at the older" "the blonde laughed") when we know who the character is, and ESPECIALLY if the descriptions include "ravenette" or "cyanette" or other ridiculous words--
I'm clicking out of that fic so fast my AO3 history won't even register I've been there.
I am glad you asked. :D
First, if a writer is using the characters' names every sentence -- they're already off to a bad start. Not every sentence needs to clarify which character it applies to, unless you're writing a "See Jane Run" book, lol.
Overall a good rule of thumb is a) don't repeat unnecessary information, and b) only write things that carry the scene.
So for starters, your readers should know who's in the scene, and you can trust them to have at least a little bit of intuition: not every bit of dialog needs to have a tag ("he said/she whispered" etc.) Now, that established: you do use names when doing otherwise would leave it unclear who's doing or saying things. Example:
George grabbed the lid off the pot. "Dang, that's hot!"
Laughing, Sean passed him a bowl. "Just pour the soup, moron."
"You're a moron."
"Says the guy who just grabbed the lid off a boiling pot."
Sticking his tongue out, George filled the first bowl.
It's clear who says what, and if we had just used "he" it wouldn't have been, but we also didn't have to dialog-tag every line. (ALSO. "Said" is not a bad word. Ignore all advice that tells you never to use "said." "Said" is an invisible word and unless you're putting a dialog tag on every line [which you Do Not Need To Do] people won't even notice it. Unlike "shrieked," "whispered," "hissed," "ranted," "whined," etc. Use those words when they'll have punch and impact. Not every dang line.)
But this isn't always how it needs to go.
For example. Let's say I'm writing about a strawberry-blonde elf named Diana and a human bard with black hair named Jerome. I could say:
Diana leaped to her feet, looking excitedly at the ravenette. "Jerome!" Diane said. "This is our chance!"
Jerome smiled at the strawberry-blonde. "Indeed," he replied.
Okay there are.... several issues here. First off, we don't need to clarify that Diana said the thing after we had her doing an action. Trust your readers! They'll know that a "she" here logically refers to Diane, as they know that "he replied" refers to Jerome.
Next, please strike "referring to characters by eye or hair color" from any lists. This is not good. It's not relevant 99% of the time (we'll get to exceptions in a moment) and also, pet peeve: "ravenette" does not mean black-haired. If you've gotta say it, just say black-haired. Ravenette means "a raven, diminuative" or maaaaaaybe "like a raven." Unless you're imitating an 1800s gothic poet, don't do this.
Physical descriptions used as character indicators/pseudo pronouns are clunky and take up space without telling us anything new. They distance the reader from the character by taking us out of the story and back into exposition land, and they generally repeat information we already know. We can tell our readers in chapter one that Diana has strawberry-blonde hair, and then we don't need to refer to her as "the strawberry-blonde" a hundred more times because our readers already know this. Just call her Diana. Or "she." (Unless it's relevant to the moment -- if she's not our POV character and we need to contrast her to, say, a black-haired beauty at the ball through someone else's eyes, that's one thing. But still, don't continually refer to her by something as shallow as her hair color.)
Exception: visual descriptions are valid to use as character-indicators when we or the characters do not know who that person is. For example, if Diana had been kidnapped by bandits.
She glared at the taller of the two men, who appeared to be some kind of leader. "What do you want?" she spat.
He leered at her, and nudged the filthy blond man at his side. "Ain't she cute," he said. "I like elves. All feisty, they are."
The blond looked uncomfortable. "Whatever you say, Gorm."
Ooooh look! Now we know the boss-man's name. From here on out, we probably should refer to him as either "Gorm" or "the bandit leader" -- not "the tall man" (and never just "the taller." Or "the older," "the younger," etc. That's a side note, but a lot of fics do that too. If you're going to use a comparative adjective, you at least still have to tell us what noun it refers to.)
Also -- did you notice how we never said Diana's name there either? She's the viewpoint character, so unless another person comes along that we need to clarify with, we can usually get away with just saying "she." The reader knows who they're reading about.
When you DO have two or more characters with the same pronouns in a scene, you gotta get creative. Again, readers are intuitive -- they can follow pretty well who's doing what as long as you make it clear. Generally speaking, if you establish which character is doing the thing, you can then use just the pronoun until you switch to a new character. For example:
Diana took the proffered knife. "Thanks," she said. "I was starting to get tired of the stink."
The mysterious rescuer smiled. "No problem," she said. "I'm Peony, by the way." She offered Diana her hand. "Let's grab some horses before the bandits wake up, and we'll get back to Jerome before morning."
"Jerome sent you?" Diana stood, dusting herself off. She wrinkled her nose at the mud stains on her pants, and resolved to buy new ones next time they found a decent tailor.
"Oh, Jerome and I go way back." Peony winked. Sweeping her hair out of her eyes, she motioned toward the horses. "After you."
There's never a confusion that Peony offers Diana her own hand -- not somehow Diana's hand. We don't question that Diana is the one wrinkling her nose, or that they're her pants and not Peony's. Or that Peony sweeps her own hair out of her own eyes. Sometimes you'll have lines where it's a little more confusing, but if it feels awkward in the sentence, always consider if you can re-structure it another way. Like,
Diana kicked her horse into a gallop, heart beating in her chest. "Hold on!" she shouted. Peony cast her a panicked glance, tightening her hold on the rampaging oliphant's saddle. Diana reached for her, grabbing the back of her tunic and yanking her down onto her horse.
Okay, that last line there? That one gets confusing, with all those "her"s. We COULD change it to "Diana reached for her, grabbing the back of Peony's tunic and yanking her down onto the horse." That takes care of a lot of them. Or, we could improve things even further by breaking apart the action, elaborating on things, and just generally stretching out the words so that it's clearer which "she/her" is being referenced at any given time. It's your story! Take advantage of all the room you've got -- there will never be a time when you simply cannot rearrange things to make it clearer for your readers.
It does takes effort. And sometimes a bit of verbal slight of hand. You may have to restructure sentences to avoid repetitive phrases and give yourself a good pace. (That's a large part of rewriting and editing.)
However, like the word "said," pronouns are invisible words. Names are not -- they jump out and say HI THIS IS ME. Use them sparingly -- they have power.
One final exception! Fantasy race and job titles. Again, you don't do this with your POV characters unless you're trying to remind the readers of something, but it IS acceptable to sometimes refer to, say, "the elf," or "the detective," or "the werewolf," or "the duke." Use them sparingly, but this is one exception -- mainly because it tells/reminds us of an important fact about the character. (You might also use, say, "her older sister," or "his father," etc, because that also communicates information about the characters and who they are to each other. But. Again. Use sparingly.)
...okay, I've rambled enough, but hopefully this is somewhat useful/helpful to someone out there.
Again! Read good books! Watch how professional writers do it! Imitate, imitate, imitate! The best writing teachers in the world are good writers.
Happy writing!
Why You Should Always Wear Your Helmet.
PSA: never put stickers on your helmets (unless you have checked with the manufacturer) because the adhesive can weaken the structure!
One day my health teacher in middle school just like … didn’t show up for class. And so of course we were all “oh if he doesn’t show up in fifteen minutes we’re legally allowed to leave”, giggling about it and all the bullshit. He did eventually show up, ten minutes into the class time. He looked haggard as fuck, sweating all over, hair messed up, beaten to hell and back. We stared at him and were about to ask what in the world happened to him when he stopped in front of his desk and smacked his bicycle helmet down on it.Â
His helmet had this odd discolored patch on it. Like, white against white, but … weird? It’s then that I realized his helmet didn’t have a discolored patch, it had a patch missing. A big chunk of his helmet had just been shaved away, the curve of the helmet gone and sanded flat by whatever it had been scraped against. And running through that patch, from one side of the helmet to the other, was this big crack, like the whole helmet had split like an eggshell.Â
Our teacher took a couple deep panting breaths and then told our class: “And this,” he took another deep breath, “is why you always wear your helmet”.Â
And that’s the story of how an entire class of middle school students took helmet-wearing very seriously for the rest of their lives.Â
Wear ya damn helmet
Those Nights Back When Stars Still Existed
Glowing orbs
Dazzling jewels
Strewn across the sky
You showed me Orion
Brave and determined
His shield and sword held high
We watched the phases of the moon
Witness to decades we spent together
My favourite was the first quarter and yours was the third
Two halves to make a perfect whole
Meteor showers and falling stars
Mercury, Venus, Jupiter and Mars
We would look up together
Still holding hands
And watch the solar system perform its dance
And we never got tired
Of the sky nor each other
Looking forward to every night
Eager to stargaze together
That was back when starts still existed
Back when the sky was alive
Now all I see is darkness
The planets have lost their celestial might
Meaningless, bare, no joy left to spare
The universe is empty without your light

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Remembering Her
You know that feeling when you put in a coin at the arcade game- and those arcade coins are expensive as fuck. I think 25 coins costs like $15? At my local arcade- well it wasn’t really “local” it was like a 20 minute drive from my house. But the coins, they’re pretty big, at least half your palm- well they looked big in my small hands. My hands are pretty big now but when I was a kid they were small. Anyways you put in a coin at the game, some games actually need two coins to play but you know what I mean. You put in a coin, and the game is actually broken or something but it still lets you play, and you play the game but it’s your first time and you don’t really know what to do so you just smash buttons? And you end up getting like 100 tickets anyways? That feeling- oh God, you’re just staring in awe and the tickets keep coming and coming. And all the other kids are going WILD because you just hit the lottery and you can barely contain your joy. And you run to cash them in- and you get, what? Like a little plastic ring or something? It’s a rip off really it’s all just a scam the toys are worthless. But the FEELING when those tickets just keep coming. It doesn’t matter that 25 coins cost $15, it doesn’t matter that all you’re gonna get is a plastic ring. None of it fucking matters but the tickets. Only the tickets matter and you WON, you got those goddamn tickets. There’s nothing as purely wild and happy as that feeling. You know that feeling... that’s what it felt like to know Her. To love Her. God... I get goosebumps just thinking about Her. And now all I can do is remember Her.
Architecture
Why go to museums or art galleries
Travel to Rome or stroll through Paris
Why study the palaces and towers and domes
When the most marvellous sculpture is right here at home
Your speckled eyes and bowed lips
The way your hair shines as you sway your hips
Oh, the mountains and the peaks
Of your arched brows and angled cheeks
The most detailed landscape
Every freckle and scar
Every love handle and every stretch mark
Your body’s a temple
I am it’s pilgrim
No matter how far I travel
There’s still more to you I haven’t discovered
Pillars of marble and fortress of jewels
I am your instrument you are my muse
You’re Aphrodite’s best work, complete prefecture
I could study for hours
Your grand architecture
Classical Tragedy
***Trigger warning: poem contains thoughts of su*cide***
No matter how bad things get or how much pain I go through
I can’t bring myself to end it all
Can’t commit the great taboo
I’m too religious, too optimistic
I think heaven is out there and my future may not be so apocalyptic
It’s clear as day yet I still can’t see it
The signs that it’s hopeless and there’s no future for me
I’ll just take up space till the big clock strikes 3
Then I’ll fall off it’s face and simply cease to be
Is it worth it all? Could it possibly be?
I’m too religious, too optimistic
Here I am, a speck, just a statistic
God watches from above, my heart skips every beat
Death at my doorstep, possibility at my feet
It’s a shame, it’s ironic
It’s a crime, it’s iconic
It’s all just a classical tragedy
Addicted to The Orchestra
Front row seats on the balcony
They’re expensive
But I’d spend every penny I have for you
Bright lights make me dizzy
And I’ll fly straight into the sun for you
The room is stuffy
I lose my breath when you look at me
I don’t need oxygen
Your gaze is my nicotine
I missed a game to be here
But why does it matter when your presence is a win
Your eyes are a score
Your smile is a home run
Shhh it’s starting
The Orchestra is playing
You’re watching the violinists
Precisely playing every string
I’m watching your face light up
Marvelling at the way you beam
You’re enamoured by the bassists’ prose
I’m in my own heaven
Seeing you happy from up close
When we sit on these chairs we’re the same height
I can finally study you eye-to-eye
Besides- not being the shorter one for once is truly a delight
No one from school comes to the Orchestra
No one sees us hold hands in the dark
For you I’d sit here forever
Spend eternity listening to BartĂłk
And once it is all over
A couple hours have gone by
We’ll kiss quickly and leave as if we never met
For fear people we know will pass by
Two boys together is quite the scandal
It’s best to hide, pretend, stay out of sight
I’m addicted to the Orchestra
I think you can see why
We’ll meet here again soon
So you can listen to the music while stare into your eyes
A Slice of Double Tiered Vanilla Cake with Purple Fondant and Daisy-Shaped Icing
May I?
Oh yes I’m waiting for my turn.
Can I?
Yes I’ve waited in line.
Would you be so kind as to-
Oh- sorry, you first.
Could I please?
Would you kindly pass me a slice?
Well, I’m just like everybody else here.
I’ve done all the same things and waited in the same line.
So why does everyone else get a slice except me?
If it’s too troublesome for you to cut the slice I’ll do it myself-
Why can’t I have one?
What did I do wrong?
I don’t understand why.
I’m here, like everyone else. We’ve all been here. We all waited. They all got their slices.
A slice of the double tiered vanilla cake with purple fondant and daisy-shaped icing.
There’s still more, there’s enough for me to have a slice.
Just give me my slice.
I would like a slice, please.
Why not me? What makes me the odd one out?
Always the odd one out. Always me.
I never wanted to be here. I didn’t want to wait in line. I didn’t want any of this.
But I’m here. And I deserve a slice.
Not for me. Never for me.
I never get a slice.

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My Island
I live on a little island
All alone on the sea
My vegetables and my house and my peach trees
A little kingdom just for me
I live alone, with the animals and the bees
The soft sand and the cool breeze
A heaven, right under my feet
Me and my thoughts are happy here
Me and the way I want things to be
But sometimes I come up with a funny joke
And I turn to share it
But there is no one standing next to me
It gets lonely sometimes on my island
There are other people and other islands nearby
But no one cares to visits me, no one wants to stop by
So the trees will hear my jokes and the animals will enjoy my homemade food
And the bees will see me laugh to myself and the birds watch as I make do
Me and my island out on the sea
I like to be alone
But I don’t enjoy being lonely
A Place I Wander to In My Mind
Alright so pretend you’re sitting on the beach right- well not the beach as a whole but like you’ve got your towel and your swimming trunks on and you’re sitting on the sand. And the sand is nice and warm like it’s not so burning hot that you don’t want to touch it- it’s just that perfect soothing warmth that calms your whole body, and every muscle finally gets a chance to relax. And you lay there- staring up at the sky- and you’re in such a good location that it’s nice and warm and sunny but also if you look up you don’t get blinded by the sun. All you see is the beautiful blue sky and the fluffy white clouds. So you lay there, and you can hear the water lapping on the shore, and some seagulls squawking nearby, and you can hear people talking and kids laughing but they’re all a good distance away. None of those sounds are loud enough to bother you, it’s all just a hum in the distance. Your whole body is calm and warm here, your mind is finally at rest. It’s so peaceful you drift asleep, and you just want to stay here forever.