*

this is what an ultimately unwarranted screaming hissy fit looks like

[messible]

@bleikurefur​ said...     ‘ i’ve never had a near-death experience. ’     *

                ‘ what? fuck off, never? ’   she says it playfully and a cakey kind of cough clambers out to punctuate.  she doesn’t give it the air to totally dissipate from her lungs before continuing. maybe this is a near death experience she won’t quite let have the moment because she has a few thoughts on the matter -- that would sound about right.   

               ‘ don’t know wh i’m saying that like i’m shocked, like that’s-like that’s normal, ’   tara continues. the cough can be heard scratching around trying to escape using the sentence as its trojan horse but tara’s persistence keeps it boarded up; beating a talker is the real battle.   ‘ i don’t have any definitive life flashing before my eyes misfortune moments either, i, uh --- well, you know. my life feels like a ... like a blur sometimes. like a big fuck you of near death experiences but it’s actually just ... it’s just my life instead. there’s never a car in front of me or a coughing fit so bad it really makes me think i should’ve gotten my will in order but ... you get that, right? don’t sound batshit or anything? ’

[parismemes]

SENTENCE STARTERS FROM THE BEST OF SALTYPHISH SEASON 4.

“it’s really just a pretty easy name to read.” “do i look suspicious?” “i guess that’s a way to do it.” “no! I’M the bitch!” “there’s so many voices!” “it’s ok, it still worked out. nothing went wrong.” “it’s too fucking late.” “NOOOO! YOU MONSTER!” “dude, that sandwich was hella good. now i’m sad i don’t have more cheese.” “i fucking have never caught feelings for somebody online until now.” “i can’t believe it. how did you guys manage that?” “that looked so stupid!” “that gave me so much anxiety.” “why would you steal my joke like that?” “it’s just that fuckin’ easy.” “this is only 20% of my true power.” “don’t fucking ever disrespect me like that ever again!” “they said your mom makes shitty pizza. get ‘em.” “everybody take a knee.” “i’m not gonna say that you’re the best. i’m not gonna say that you’re even good.” “you beautiful motherfucker, we’ll never be able to understand you.” “that’s the signal!” “this is why i push people away. ‘cause they can’t handle my balls, dude.” “just a nice peaceful drive. nothing could go wrong.” “i think i’m gonna die.” “i want them to learn from their mistakes.” “you probably bully people in school.” “i can’t believe that just happened.” “how did you survive?” “guys, i have 33 cents on my desk. what do i do with it?” “why don’t you trust me? just please close your eyes.” “girls night is just a suicide pact.” “we don’t have that here.” “i did it. all by myself. you’re welcome.” “you’ve earned points in my book.” “we probably should have done that.” “wait, do you like pineapple on your pizza?” “i have three lives right now. i’m like a cat divided by three.” “i’ve never had a near-death experience.” “he doesn’t have the time.” “we’re so fucking big and strong!” “i have music blasting. i can’t hear.” “we wouldn’t be able to handle it.” “i love you so much.” “that might just be it.”

[messible]

i know i only have two posts of...how do you say.....WRITING on this blog for tara but i’m already obsessed with her she is SO fun to write for me. i promise you now those starters will come eventually

[messible]

*     fullyfungi​

    OH ,   NO.    he’d never expected to work in a place where so many angry people were. it was fine when tara saw was still running the place. she knew how to deal with ANGRY PEOPLE. luke still had no idea, and he hadn’t exactly become better at it when his boss had left him for months to run the ship on his own in her absence. (well, she hadn’t exactly instructed him to do that, but then again who was he supposed to ask if he should?)   the BANGING continued persistently.

         so he cautiously waded himself through mountains of papers and letters that had started to take grotesque heights with the time.           “ WHO IS IT? ”    he raised his voice to get through to the other side of the door. then, without waiting for an answer opened it (pushing aside some unopened mail as he does so) and was met with the face of …  

        “ TARA? ”   brows furrowed and mouth wide open, even the smallest hint of an accusing tone in his voice.       “ what – you’re back? where - what? where have you BEEN? ”

                 an important thing to note is that tara does not mean to sound so ... well, mean. over the albeit limited time she had spent in the office with luke, and as wild as he may be (wild is the word she would often land on when describing the man. keeps her on her toes, she seemed to tell people), something akin to a warm sort of fondness stuck itself to luke’s back and hovered around him like a protective buzzing bee so that when she looked at him and they were one on one, she’d make some attempt to keep her voice down. now though, she has more pressing things to attend to than a warm hello or even a real response. 

                 ‘ not important, ’   she mutters.  see? decibels lowered.  tara pushes past luke and far into the building she stomps. a wrath that screams i’m not sure how long i’ve got here but lets find out what paperwork i can fill in in the meantime to bloody well find out tramps alongside her.  she knocks over one the aforementioned stacks of paper, however, within the first few steps and does not make it as far as she likes before cussing under her breath at the ground, spinning round in her place, coat tail flailing from the movement, and scowling.   ‘ jesus, fuck ... what are-- what is this? what have you been doing to this place? have you ever ... there’s-there’s folders for this shit. boxes, luke. couldn’t keep the place clean? ’

[messible]

actually all of my characters have this pivotal point in their psyche wanting to connect with people and never really knowing where to step their foot in that regard and then they all react in....very different ways to that issue. some try with some success, some continue and fail horribly, and then some are tara 

[messible]

one thing to say is tara is just not very nice which came originally from a once very genuine attempt at trying to connect with people, not being totally sure how, and then backtracking like all fuck into a mess of a being that does not how to hold a conversation under 120 decibels 

[highonfilms]

Russian Doll (2019 - Present)

[messible]

SHAWSPB is a independent publishing company ran (run? past tense…? it’s confusing) by one tara shaw, a thirty-four year old motormouth who needs to work on her social skills.     as it seems, you can actually only reject so many people so many times before it bites you in the ass. more specifically (and more accurately), you can only reject so many people so meanly after you fire the companies’ reader because they’ve let one too many trashy reads out of the slush pile and you have to start wading through the heaving thing yourself. opening manuscripts seemed well and good and safe enough because all you’d be facing is words that were crappy in a worst case scenario, until late one night, you stumble upon something that a sour faced rejectee (yes, one that landed themselves with a personalised handwritten and very specific rejection from the woman herself) gets their pages in the pile. tara opens it and finds that it’s no story at all. it’s a string of nonsense – words that don’t exist, script she’s not sure she’s ever seen before, but transfixed on the page, tara shaw reads the thing front to back and the second she puts the papers down is hurtled into the space time continuum, left to float around in there til something grounds her back into the real world, when or wherever that is.     it’s an act of karma, or something, and whenever she lands she pukes her guts out because that’s what that kind of thing does to the human body apparently.

[messible]

god i love making ocs this was such a good idea

[messible]

                *     SO BAD SO BAD SO BAD SO BAD

[messible]

                tara lands flat on the ground with a thump and the wooziness kicks in a second after, as it never fails to.  jesus, she thinks, didn’t see that jump coming at all.  one moment you’re sitting with a shandy in one hand talking away with someone who (if they were alive in her time) would’ve been one to publish (they were born a hundred years too late for anything tara could do), next she’s covered in gravel after hurtling full speed through a hell hole science experiment and into an alleyway (why did she always land in an alleyway?), feeling the pain in her back worsen tenfold. 

                ‘ jesus. ’   she says it out loud this time and winces to punctuate the thought. alright, right back in her head again, time to see where we are.  she looks up from her spot on the ground, wonders where she’ll plant herself till she gets thrown around again, and for some reason recognises the alleyway. how in the fuck does she know this place? tara pushes herself up to her feet and hobbles down the alleyway, speeding up when she sees the sign on the corner of the building she thought she’d never see again. familiarity is warm when you’ve been away fuck knows how long and where for so long --- the shawspb sign she remembers being delivered when she opened the place, as it stands in all its glory, lets her have that for a moment as it sits at the end of the alleyway.  she lets out a wheeze, nearly falls, but there’s no time for it and she hobbles the rest of the way up to the front and bangs on the door.

                ‘ hello? HELLO? ’   BANG BANG. she’d always thought against windows, when she was renovating the place all those years back. privacy was a nice thing, a nice idea when she was on the inside, less sweet when she’s stuck trying to get in again.   ‘ C’MON, ’   she shouts.   ‘ OPEN UP. HEY, OPEN UP! OPEN UP, OPEN UP, OPEN UP, OPEN UP, OPEN UP--- ’

@fullyfungi​     *

[messible]

this is a starter call, i repeat, this is a starter call

[messible]

i’m writing tara quite a few space time yadda yadda landings on so even though she is very much still in a state of what in the fuck, it’s also a bit like...you know. it’s happening anyways and it’s gonna happen again. guess i’ll just talk to the rando outside the alleyway i just landed in after i’m done throwing my guts up

[parismemes]

SENTENCE STARTERS FROM RED VS. BLUE SEASON 15

“you touch my baked beans, i put dog shit in your pillowcase.” “every other person in this miserable place is literal garbage.” “books on tape? what’s the appeal of that? don’t the pages get stuck together?” “when in doubt use a confusing acronym. military types love acronyms.” “FML. that stands for fu–” “i’ll bend down and kiss your boots, how’s that?” “i wanna know every step you take and how much shit gets stuck on your shoes and in-between your teeth.” “you know, i think i’ll probably move to LA, but that’s like what everyone does. i mean, what do you think?” “i’m gonna skin your cat for this.” “i’m actually thinking of adopting a stage name.” “i’m gonna smash cut your empty skull against that rock if you don’t shut the fuck up!” “i wanted to call it desert titties, but that shit was taken.” “ah, there goes the bechdel test.” “you should interview the illuminati!” “real talk here: i’ll be your genie in a bottle, i’ll do whatever you want, but after i grant you your three wishes, you gotta do something for me, whaddaya say?” “my ceaseless existence is an eternal torment!” “next time he calls you please, just, let it go to voicemail. don’t transfer to me. okay?” “i can’t even hear myself think in this blizzard of idiocy!” “did you attempt to witness any other particular individuals in the general vicinity of the area in which the crime scene was alleged?” “i just wanna be included!” “funny, the vultures usually show up after the slaughter.” “you’re a little bit crazy, aren’t you? i like that.” “consequences… don’t always take the shape we expect them to, do they? they’re funny like that.” “…are we still married?” “people are quick to jump to conclusions. they see something, or hear something, and fit it into a preconceived emotional box.” “please don’t make me regret what i’m about to tell you.” “whoa, hold up–i just realized how much i don’t care.” “SUCK IT, NEWTON!” “we said we wouldn’t talk about that!” “help me be the best at being lazy.” “it was a simple mishap with my vanilla-satin scented candles!” “why is he naked?” “HOW DO YOU BURN DOWN A WATER PARK, ___?!” “we’re definitely not just saying that because she could kill us.” “for far too long our people have been oppressed, crushed, under the weight of ourselves! if we don’t start standing up to our mortal foe gravity, by god, who will?” “we’ve never needed intelligence before!” “why doesn’t anybody die and stay dead?” “oh, cool! foreshadowing.” “who wants a poisoned pumpkin frappuccino?” “i quit. i’m not going. i’m staying here.” “you’ve always been selfish, but this is bullshit!” “you know, i liked them better when they were funny.” “it’s a bop-it.” “sleep. means. death!” “i know ___ said we should split up, but i was thinking maybe we split up together, you know, because it’s scary!” “you talk about ___ a lot.” “this is a big city. so many places for snakes to hide. they could be everywhere all around us. watching us… licking their snake lips…” “jesus, doesn’t anybody speak esperanto?” “err is not a word.” “why do you look alone?” “why don’t you tell us what’s going on, and we can decide whether to kill you or not?” “looks like we’ve got quite the sticky mess on our hands!” “oh, i know all about sausage parties! uh, wait, that came out wrong.” “when I least expect it: whambo! you pry open my mind prison and suck out my brain beans!” “i realize now that i’ve just spilled all my brain beans.” “we’re just a bunch of dumb rejects hurling ourselves against impossible odds.” “i’m only saying something because i’ve been used enough times in my life already.” “nice! super awesome of you guys! that was sarcastic.” “don’t care. just help me with my dramatic exit.” “that’s a great idea! i was just about to suggest it.” “i always say a marine without a code is like a car without a road.” “i always say the best defense is a really tall fence.” “i always say a good soldier is like a rollin’ boulder.” “i always say a mantra a day keeps death at bay.” “i’ve grown soft around these uncultured philistines.” “goddamn, i can’t believe i have to hear this shit in stereo now.” “you two look cozy.” “i didn’t realize you two were close.” “you’re being too hard on yourself. you’ve changed over the years, i’ve seen it myself.” “i’ve grown from being a dishonorable killing machine to an honorable killing machine. that’s quite the journey.” “i changed my mind. you are evil.” “you don’t have to destroy the past to have a future.” “strategizing can wait until breakfast, at least.” “i killed them. i MURDERED them. i set my vengeance free upon them and it felt so good!” “are we gonna do some snooping around?” “have you ever considered a life in showbusiness?” “try harder, fuckface!” “can we please just bury the hatchet and focus on what’s important?” “your mother’s lasagna is mediocre!” “if you guys had to get shot somewhere in your body, where would you do it?” “i can’t hear you because some idiot shot my ear off!” “this whole situation is garbage enough to begin with, but… at least we’re in it together.” “no plan survives first contact with the enemy.” “the only thing that would make this better is some music.” “we were pawns in their game. but the thing that I love about chess is that sometimes pawns kill kings.” “no, actually, i was raised by wolves. in the forest.” “sometimes i feel like people barely acknowledge my presence.” “something weird might be going on around here.” “anyone who’s acting that squeaky clean must have some deep dark secrets.” “ha! gotcha! that’s exactly the kind of things bad guys say!” “they used us, they destroyed our lives, and they haven’t been made to pay for what they’ve done.” “you obviously love the sound of your own voice, so why don’t you use it to tell its where the fuck our friends are?” “i’m going to kill you so hard, you’ll wish you were dead.” “we fought alongside each other for fucking years. how can you just turn your backs on us like this?” “you don’t get to give orders if you’re on the bad guys’ side!” “now I have gonorrhea and a dead friend.” “stop. touching. my face.” “buckets! oodles! oodles of noodles and toaster strudels! tiempo de mucho. mucho de tiempo!“ “yeah, well, i don’t remember you being anything but a huge dick, but here you are being cool, so people change.” “yippee-ki-yay, motherfuckers!” “but.. i never got to say goodbye. or thank you for being my friend.” “i’m gonna need a week at the chiropractor when we get out of here.” “is it possible to hallucinate with your ears?” “i’m not here to kill you.” “uh-oh spaghetti-o’s.” “fuck me! fuck all of this!” “you should totally kill me if it strikes your fancy! no pressure!” “the world’s best swordsman doesn’t fear the second best. He fears the worst, because he can’t predict what the idiot will do.” “i can’t imagine us doing anything but making this all worse.” “shit, dude! you’re the best we’ve got!” “i like pushing small children down wells.” “can we please settle on a consistent denomination? are we using cardinal directions or are we using clock positions?” “i’m so sneaky. they don’t even know what’s happening. you can’t even see me right now, ___. you’re so confused.” “shut up and help me punch this fucking tank!” “as far as days to die go, it’s a little overcast. so let’s check our corners and make these bastards pay!” “let’s light the fires and kick the tires!” “let’s dance with these monkeys and give ‘em what for!” “let’s put the pedal to the metal and the rubber to the road!” “let’s get jiggy with it!” “let’s shoot this monkey full of heroin and put it on youtube! actually, let’s not do that, it sounds completely horrible.” “let’s teach these midgets how to tango!” “honor, schmonor.” “scout’s honor! except I was never a scout because I’m afraid of badges.” “why are we here?” “we don’t know why we’re here. it’s still one of life’s great mysteries, isn’t it?” “i’m sorry i tried to kill you, it wasn’t personal!” “you’ll be stuck between a rock and the frying pan.” “if i said that i would weep for them, would it make you feel any better?” “best friends should be able to say goodbye.” “i think you are cool. like, super awesome, amazing, cool and… i, i always felt like really awesome too, when we were hanging out together.” “i know with my other friends–who, even if you add them all up together aren’t really cool as you–i know we’re all gonna be okay.” “if you kill me, you’ll just perpetuate this never-ending cycle of revenge and retaliation!” “he asked us to deliver an important message to you all. but then he just sang the ducktales theme song and fell back to sleep.” “you know i’ll never forget this, right? i mean, PTSD is forever, isn’t it?” “it’s not the sum of your parts that makes you who you are.” “these people have shown me that real heroes are not born, they’re forged. a friend told me once that there’s no fate but what you make. and i think he’s right.” “alright, well, i’m just gonna try to forget that ever happened and never bring it up again.”

[messible]

SHAWSPB is a independent publishing company ran (run? past tense...? it’s confusing) by one tara shaw, a thirty-four year old motormouth who needs to work on her social skills.     as it seems, you can actually only reject so many people so many times before it bites you in the ass. more specifically (and more accurately), you can only reject so many people so meanly after you fire the companies’ reader because they’ve let one too many trashy reads out of the slush pile and you have to start wading through the heaving thing yourself. opening manuscripts seemed well and good and safe enough because all you’d be facing is words that were crappy in a worst case scenario, until late one night, you stumble upon something that a sour faced rejectee (yes, one that landed themselves with a personalised handwritten and very specific rejection from the woman herself) gets their pages in the pile. tara opens it and finds that it’s no story at all. it’s a string of nonsense -- words that don’t exist, script she’s not sure she’s ever seen before, but transfixed on the page, tara shaw reads the thing front to back and the second she puts the papers down is hurtled into the space time continuum, left to float around in there til something grounds her back into the real world, when or wherever that is.     it’s an act of karma, or something, and whenever she lands she pukes her guts out because that’s what that kind of thing does to the human body apparently.

[messible]

let me do a little info post for tara i actually like her a lot already

[messible]

you may say ciara, did you not just make a perfectly good multi muse for your ocs? in response i say please, i beg of you to ignore my lack of genius status. my....idiocy, some would say.  tara shaw held me at gunpoint and said messible it is and so forth this blog came