AAA Battery

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I saw London

I saw France

You know what’s going on

Drop your pants.

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Okay Math boy, do your thing. Wait, math boy no. Not that thing. Math boy no math boy stop

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I am nauseous at three in the morning so I have to go through my Rolodex of charts to find which one of the three evils it is. (1. No sleep 2. No food 3. Ill)

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I’m rewatching Stranger Things S5, so spoilers for that.

SPOILERS BELOW

Mike compared Will to a sorcerer because his powers were innate and unlearned. That kept bugging me for some reason, I couldn’t help but feel that Sorcerer just didn’t fit.

Warlock fits him better. Warlocks get their powers from an entity, usually an arch-fae or demon, sometimes an ‘evil’ god. Anyway, they get it from a patron, they aren’t born with their powers - like sorcerers (El and Eight). They don’t learn their magic either.

Most of the time, Warlocks are given their abilities willingly through a deal, like Clerics. But sometimes they have a deal forced upon them, like Will and Vecna.

Warlocks don’t get to chose what kind of spells they have, like Will doesn’t get to chose what kind of telekinesis he has.

Will is a Warlock while El is a Sorcerer. Given vs. Born with powers. It all fits together.

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I want to gather some new monologues to use for auditions. Can anyone give me some good recommendations?

[story-on-stage]

Some recommendations in this post, but are you looking for anything in particular? Comedic vs dramatic, classic vs contemporary, gendered or not, etc?

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It can be literally anything at all. I just need a few to have in my back pocket. Thank you!

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I want to gather some new monologues to use for auditions. Can anyone give me some good recommendations?

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“I’m to sober for this” I say as I continue to do the thing entirely sober.

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Labels are trickery. I’m not quite a trans man but I am definitely not cis. I use he/him and she/her people only use she/her and I am fine with it. My gender is stable and not fluid and I have a distaste for being called a ‘they’. I feel my hottest in trans tape and pink boxers. Sex is gross and romance is unfamiliar. Women are hot.

The only label that seems to stick is Queer.

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I just finished rewatching S10E13 of Criminal minds and ROSSI

MY GUY

“I guess I rewrote our past”?? You were CLOSE. You were FRIENDS. Gideon named his ONLY SON after YOU. HE TALKED ABOUT YOU TO HIS FAMILY. “I always hoped we were close.”

HE LOVED YOU AS MUCH AS HE COULD HAVE. YOU WERE HIS FAMILY!!!! AAAAAA

These old men are GOING TO KILL ME

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ALSO ALSO

Rossi mentioned that there were three people in the Behavioral Science Unit. We know Gideon and Rossi, but WHO IS THIS THIRD GUY?? Do we ever get to know them? I wanna know who else worked in that bomb shelter with them. Was it another regular guy? Was it a woman? What was their specialty? How did they even get wrapped in this BS unit?

TELL ME CM WRITERS

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I just finished rewatching S10E13 of Criminal minds and ROSSI

MY GUY

“I guess I rewrote our past”?? You were CLOSE. You were FRIENDS. Gideon named his ONLY SON after YOU. HE TALKED ABOUT YOU TO HIS FAMILY. “I always hoped we were close.”

HE LOVED YOU AS MUCH AS HE COULD HAVE. YOU WERE HIS FAMILY!!!! AAAAAA

These old men are GOING TO KILL ME

[t00thpasteface]

a good ship is always improved by having at least one other random character who is so so fucking mad that the ship is happening and is either seething about it or actively trying to break them up. i see the appeal of "everyone else played matchmaker and they're all cheering to see the ship holding hands!!" but i need at least one character, with any motivation, to be the world's pettiest hater about it come hell or high water. bonus points if the beef is completely onesided and they still get warmly invited to the wedding anyway

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(Suicide Implications, Religious Iconography,)

Playing G-d

I play G-d every now and then

It starts when I get the text

Just one text and I become a Deity

It’s always one phrase:

I’m sorry

I love you

Thank you for being my friend

I see that and my fingers slide too quickly over the screen that they blur

Ichor runs through my veins

I control life or death

Magic becomes real

As I lie and say it’ll be okay

Not now but later

And those lies get spoken as truth

I made them true

And they shall happen

A prophecy to be written in text

As I talk a pupil off a ledge

Their lives in my hands

And one wrong word

One wrong move

And they die

I’m sorry

I love you

Thank you for being my friend

I play G-d with my friends

Tell them a fortune

Predict their past

And do a little song

And suddenly I am a future seer

Someone who can pluck those strings in your head

and make you believe anything

Those games have been around for years

I am always the center

I’m sorry

I love you

I’m glad we’re friends

G-d takes my hand

Whispers in my ears

In voices that sound too much like me

And I hate it

I hate every bit of power I am given

Every single choice I have to make

I hate it

But I do it

I make the hard decisions

I become a merciless god

So I have no martyr

No blood soaks these hands but my own

My own blood drips from my knuckles

Its stuck under my nails

Stains the grooves of my fingerprints

In this golden color like the sun

I’m sorry

I love you

Thank you for being my friend

Please play G-d

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Mandy Patinkin can sing, so I hc that Gideon could sing too.

How the team finds out is that he’s confronted with a terrified small child and the baby/toddler won’t stop crying. Their parent is freshly put to sleep with the fishies and Gideon is the only one watching the child. He gently scoops them up, reminded of his own child, and sings to them until they stop crying.

No one mentions it to his face. Morgan and Ella talk about it, and Reid pipes in occasionally with facts about singing health and other such things.

Before he leaves, him and Hotch are the de facto baby-calmers.

I just like the idea of Gideon quietly singing to this tiny baby in a room covered in blood. Something so serene in a horrific place. Adorable.

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Sometimes, I am hit with the realization that my greatest fantasy is to become someone's art piece. To be able to sit still while someone slathers paint all over my back or draws stars on my arms. Hell, even to just make-up on my face.

It seems so, so simple, yet so hard to ask for. Like, how to ask someone that all you want them to do is to paint on you? To become their canvas.

My greatest fantasy is to be something that someone cherishes, something that someone put so much love and care and gentleness into that the thing becomes so inherently beautiful. A mirror for how strongly they love their craft.

To be able to give up my body in a way that isn't sexual sounds amazing. To be able to look beautiful and be theirs but also be a thing of my own. Like the Mona Lisa. She is something all herself and yet his name is always there. And you can just see the love Di Vinci had for painting in the way he painted her eyes, nose, jawline, shoulders.

I guess, when you boil it down, this fantasy is just a way to be loved in a way that I never have been before.

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You’ll never guess what just fucking happened

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I can’t help but yearn as I watch people do something I desperately want to do. I wish my head would let me take risks and not be so full.

The worst case scenario is constantly cycling through my head. Not just the worst case scenarios, but how I would deal with them and where are my exits and what are the risks and the consequences and how I would get hurt and why it was my fault.

I can’t help but yearn as I watch people get over their minds barrier and just do it.

I want to be able to just have fun without seven back up plans.

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I did it. I watched and freaked out but I did it. There was no back up plans and I was terrified most of the time.

But I did it.

You only live once. You will be scared and you will miss out on opportunities, but take the tiny steps so you can take the next one.

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I can’t help but yearn as I watch people do something I desperately want to do. I wish my head would let me take risks and not be so full.

The worst case scenario is constantly cycling through my head. Not just the worst case scenarios, but how I would deal with them and where are my exits and what are the risks and the consequences and how I would get hurt and why it was my fault.

I can’t help but yearn as I watch people get over their minds barrier and just do it.

I want to be able to just have fun without seven back up plans.

[quadruple-aaaaa]

Sometimes, I am hit with the realization that my greatest fantasy is to become someone's art piece. To be able to sit still while someone slathers paint all over my back or draws stars on my arms. Hell, even to just make-up on my face.

It seems so, so simple, yet so hard to ask for. Like, how to ask someone that all you want them to do is to paint on you? To become their canvas.

My greatest fantasy is to be something that someone cherishes, something that someone put so much love and care and gentleness into that the thing becomes so inherently beautiful. A mirror for how strongly they love their craft.

To be able to give up my body in a way that isn't sexual sounds amazing. To be able to look beautiful and be theirs but also be a thing of my own. Like the Mona Lisa. She is something all herself and yet his name is always there. And you can just see the love Di Vinci had for painting in the way he painted her eyes, nose, jawline, shoulders.

I guess, when you boil it down, this fantasy is just a way to be loved in a way that I never have been before.