"Would You Rather Use The App? :)" I Cannot Begin To Describe How Much I Wouldn't

She’s so girlboss and I need her to step on me (or cradle my face gently) ((or both))

Producer Jody

The Fall Guy

Jody's MOOD

I simply cannot help that I like a poor little meow meow

Me, I am bitches

We’re dating in my head in case you were wondering

Anime is great. Anime will be like “this is my character of ambiguous western descent. Their name is the most incomprehensible combination of made up sounds. And if not that, it is a name that has not appeared on a single birth certificate since 1773.

Code Geass went and said “most of these character hail from Future Sort-of-Britain, including our main character, who will be named Lelouch just like every single British person isn’t.” Then they decided to distract you from this by naming his love interest Shirley, cornering the market of 80+ year old grandmothers clutching their 3 bowls of strawberry sucker candy in delight. Code Geass didn’t even call it a day here they had one more trick up their sleeve and it was to name the third character in the group Rivalz, a name and a character which appeal to exactly no one.

Tiger and Bunny said “What should our western young-20′s heartthrob successful pretty-boy deuteragonist be named? What screams ‘young’ and ‘trendy’ and ‘brilliant’ and ‘sexy’? Barnaby. Barnaby Brooks. This is our Sex Symbol Barnaby.” I bet a bunch of ghosts from the 17th century were stoked about that one. I bet Barnaby walks into gift shops asking if they have any of the travel keychains in his name and he gets laughed out of the store. I bet Barnaby’s parents didn’t die, they just faked their deaths to get away from him seeing as they hated him enough to name him Barnaby.

I haven’t followed Attack on Titan in 7 years but yall have a character named Pieck Finger. That’s it that’s my roast.

inside out spinoff about a teenage boy starring ryan gosling as the new sigma emotion

One time during chemo they took my BP and the nurse kinda froze for a second and my mom(a doctor) went “what’s the number” and the nurse said “60/40” and I was like ‘hmm I wonder what that means’ so I i tried to sit up to look and realized it was a Bad Number cause I could not sit up and was suddenly Very Very Popular

Remember: the more difficult you make it for them to realize a report is false, the more useless you make the portal.

I love reading a long-ass one shot. I’m talking like 10k+ words and there’s no chapters. And it’s just so so compelling and you have to read it all right then even if you have something to do. And then you get to the end and it’s wrapped up all nice and neat but you want to exist in this world for just a bit longer. And you just kinda sit there like, “man, that was really good” and then you can’t fathom reading another fic for at least the next 24hrs.

Alone - Renfield

This is a fic I wrote back during my college’s production of Kate Hamill’s Dracula: A Feminist Revenge Fantasy(which you should totally go read btw). Anyway, this fic stars everyone’s favorite Renfield in a religious-esk fervor.

WC: 957

TW: SH, imprisonment, drugged, mental asylum, Renfield is in poor mental health(which is to be expected), no beta we die like men

Enjoy!

Reinfield stared hard at the writings on the wall. She picked at the skin on her leg, absentmindedly taking the fresh scab from under her nails and rolling it between her teeth. Why hadn’t her Father come? Maybe the lines weren’t straight enough? Pulling the blanket from her bed, she scrubbed the chalk from the walls and started again.

Our Father

Who art in Earth

Of Earth

And by Earth

Hallowed be thy -

Capitalize the T. A swipe of the blanket and she started again.

Our Father

And again.

Who art in Earth

And again.

Hallowed be Thy na-

The chalk snapped. She slowly ran her finger through the powder and rubbed it between her fingers. She swiped it across the wall:

-me.

With new vigor she began again, rubbing the chalk against the wall until the pads of her fingers were raw. She scratched at her leg again and was met with something sticky. The beginnings of a fresh scab. Dark, barely coagulated blood clumped around the site.

Of course! Daddy deserves better! Better than chalk!!

She clawed at the site and began marking that cursed plea. He’ll see. He’ll come. He HAS to come! First she traced over the chalk, the blood drying quickly. The prayer spread across the wall until the blood vessels constricted and the bleeding slowed to a trickle. She whined and rocked on her heels, rolling her tongue between her teeth. The taste of metal made her pause and she spit on the ground, a small red hue highlighting her saliva. She licked her teeth again, feeling the fresh wound in her mouth.

Suddenly, with great conviction, she bit into the flesh of her forearm. She hissed, and pushed on until that bitter, metallic tang pooled between her lips and ran down her chin. It dripped, dripped, dripped onto the ground before with a big sweep she smeared a giant O across the floor. She scrambled across the floor as she went. Bloody footprints began to stain her new-found writing ground. Shaking with adrenaline and excitement she panted that cursed prayer under her breath.

Certainly he will come! He’ll see I AM his most beloved child! He will bring me home! Take me from here!

She moaned and giggled and mewled as she stroked crimson streaks across her chamber. Sticky hands ran through tangled hair; over her eyes and across her cheeks and down her arms until she appeared covered in afterbirth. I am reborn. Freshly made new in His image. She kissed the ground and moved with religious fervor, shaking and dancing as the blood dried and flaked and cracked against her skin. Her muscles grew weak and tired and empty as she curled up in the corner, her head rested against the word Father written on the wall.

Certainly he will come. Make me new. Take me home.

….

“Renfield.”

She moaned and pressed herself farther up against the wall, “leave me for my Father.”

“Renfield.” There was a hand against her cheek, wiping just beneath her eye. She swatted the hand away and peered up at her harasser, “I said leave me for —.”

Her voice caught, “Father?”

“I’m here, Renfield.”

“Father!” She moved to leap toward him and he caught her shoulders, “Easy, easy, I’ve got you.” Gently he lifted her up and held her to his chest.

“I knew you’d come! They said I was foolish and naive but I knew you would come for me!”

“Shhhhhh,” he set her gently down on the bed. He took each wrist in hand and laid them down at her sides, “you must rest now.”

“But Father-“

“Shhhhhh. You need to lie still , Renfield.”

“Please don’t leave me here! Please Father!” A deep weight settled over her, tugging at her eyes and sitting on her chest, “please.”

“I’m sorry, Renfield.”

“But-“

“Sleep.”

…

The first thing Renfield became aware of was a thick wad of cloth in her mouth. She tongued it for a moment or two before reaching up to pull the damned thing from her mouth. The moment she lifted her arm it was pulled back toward the bed with a clang. She tried again.

No. No no no no no.

She writhed against the restraints and clawed and the bed and kicked and pulled and thrashed and shook and screamed and screamed and screamed. Not that anyone heard her. The cloth muffled her wails before they even had time to escape.

I’ve failed. I’ve failed. I’ve failed and now he’s never coming.

Renfield thrashed back and forth, shaking the bet with her fit before it finally fell on its side. She hung from the restraints, her head resting on the ground. The floor and walls, now clean and purified, stunk with disinfectant. They destroyed it. A tear, then two, rolled off the side of her face and dripped to the floor.

A door opened from somewhere behind her. “Oh, Renfield. I’m here,” Seward appeared from around the end of the bed. “Miller, help me lift her. We’ve got you, Renfield.”

They hoisted the bed back upright, taking Renfield along with it. Seward reached up and wiped the side of her face. He turned, nodded at Miller, and she scurried off.

Wait.

“You have to rest, Renfield, or you’ll reopen the wound,” he grabbed the blanket from the ground and laid it back over her.

No.

Miller returned, that venomous vial in hand. Renfield’s eyes darted from Seward to Miller to the vial and back. Seward took it from her and steadied Renfield’s arm, “easy, easy, I’ve got you.”

No no no no no. He was never here.

A quick pinch, a burn, and that weight began to descend again.

He’s forgotten me.

“I’m sorry, Renfield”

I. Am. Alone.