rats

el and nancy's experiences of girlhood being dichotomised in season one kills me. el looks at the pretty girl and the pretty pink bedroom and this life she's crafted that she parades in pictures and she craves it, so deeply, that she spends the whole season wearing nancy's old dress, this hyper-feminine pink thing, peter pan collars and frills. it sits on her so jarringly, resolutely at odds with her shaved head and death stare and face permanently stained with dirt and blood and tears, and mike's crumpled blue jacket doesn't match, doesn't fit, and she looks so small, but she wants to be the girl in the picture. she wants back the innocence that she never got to have, scrounges off the scraps of nancy's girlhood where she can find it, while nancy loses it at the exact same time. she loses her virginity and her childhood best friend and she ties her hair back and learns to shoot a gun and she learns, through the pain and violence, that her life as a small-town good girl behind a picket fence was lost with everything else that went that day, died with barb. she's a slut and a monster hunter and a woman at sixteen and now she's looking at the girl in the picture and craving her life too. she left her girlhood by the poolside, torn and bloodied and ripped fresh from her chest, and el picks it up, dusts it off, and wears it like armour.

i'm at a concert thingy and the bands don't start for another 2 hours, but they have the stage set up and are letting people come up and do karaoke. this family just went up w their kids to belt out cartoon songs and when they held the mic up for the baby to try, it babbled cutely for a sec and then grabbed on and unleashed one of those horrible piercing baby SCREAMS at the top of their little baby lungs and i'm pretty sure wiped out the first 3 rows of people lmao

one of the bands sampled the baby shriek and added it to their songs

it's extremely not good to listen to

PAPERWORK

@a-sentient-cup

they probably cant love me back in a human or even mammalian sense, but my goldfish with their smooth pea-sized brain have learned to trust that i will make them better when they are sick. i feel like crying about this often

I am a little bit overcome by this. We made actual imaginary tunnels in the sky so our giant metal birds can fly through the open air in the most organized, polite way possible. We check in over our designated long distance thought projection machine channel that anyone can listen in on but we all promise not to interrupt to get permission to swap imaginary sky tunnels. We come up with the weirdest impossible shit and immediately give it boundaries! Humans are ridiculous. I mean yes these are good rules and many many people would die if we didnt have them, a+ on these rules, but if you take a step back wanting to sunder every natural limitation we can find and then going ahead and building our own so nothing gets too messy is a fucking hilarious art for a species to compulsively pursue.

oh he’s bisexual that explains it

not to jump the gun but he might be my new best friend

I hate you "click now to sync contacts". I hate you "sign in with Facebook". I hate you "connect with your Twitter". I hate you targeted ads. I hate you social media algorithms. I hate you brands and mascots with accounts. I hate you "upgrade to premium". I hate you free trials that require credit card info. I hate you pop up ads that take up half the screen. I hate you ads with sound. I hate you unskippable commercials. I hate you anti-piracy firewalls. I hate you late stage capitalism.

character who is sun-coded but not in the traditional ray-of-sunshine way. character who is sun-coded in the sense that they burn hot and bright and powerful, that they're a raging fury of fire and passion, and that maybe, just maybe, they are destroying themselves as they do so.

Very very hard boiled egg