#clearing the drafts

[isaacsapphire]

God, at least the responses all find this creepy and inappropriate.

[mustve-forgotten]

hate a strawberry that barely tastes like anything. what was the point of all that then

[machine-unlearning]

I understand the underlying economics and the intricacies of organizing any large project, but it feels absurd that bad movies are just treated as a normal fact of life. Yeah, sometimes we spend a hundred million dollars on this massive artistic project, we loop in dozens of artists and hire thousands of workers, they're on this project for years, and the final movie is shit. The plot looks like it was written an hour before the deadline with no editing, the dialogue is clunkier than bad improv, there's no pacing or flow, the thematic and emotional messaging in incoherent at best and contradictory at worst, audiences don't like it, and critics gave it 2 out of 5 stars. Well no biggie, another hundred million dollars to the next big film

[wishcamper]

sjm winning one for feminism by writing female anatomy just as badly as men do

[thesweetnessofspring]

Peeta (genuine): You're going to be a great mother to yours and Gale's children.

Katniss: No thank you. Don't want that.

Peeta (faking): Katniss is my wife and carrying my baby.

Katniss: I mean, yeah, I can see it.

[no-where-new-hero]

this might be a controversial statement but one thing i really respect about mexican gothic is that moreno-garcia wasn’t afraid to put noemi’s sexual attraction to virgil on the page. yes it’s a response to the fucked up enchantments of the house, but it’s still there. it’s still one more thing that noemi has to fight against to win out against the forces of colonialism.

because i think that so much of what bills itself as gothic in fiction nowadays forgets about the erotics of danger. the point of the gothic is seduction by darkness, and a darkness that is violent or harmful or dangerous. without the danger and the discomfort of morally ambiguous pairings, it’s just insufficiently lit romance (or like mafia romance or something).

[vibecheckd]

they’re writing a love story in the silences and the glances and the spaces between calls. it’s domestic. it’s intimate. it’s real.

this isn’t about grand declarations or sweeping gestures, though both of them already do that. it’s buck helping make christopher things for his bake sale. it’s eddie looking across the firehouse and softening when buck laughs or the way buck always looks bright and brilliant when things are shot from eddie's pov. it’s the way they orbit each other constantly, like gravity pulled too tight, like they’re always choosing each other without saying a word.

it’s in the way eddie said “no one will ever fight for my son as hard as you” and meant you’re my family now, a year into knowing each other. it’s in how buck nearly died and eddie shattered, and how eddie wrote buck into his will like it was obvious, like it had always been him.

they never had to say “i love you” out loud for the whole world to see it. it’s in the steady hands during chaos, the late-night beers after hard shifts, the way christopher lights up when buck walks into a room.

they’re not loud about it. they don’t have to be. the love is there, humming beneath the surface, waiting. and maybe someday they’ll name it. maybe someday they’ll stop pretending they don’t already have everything that matters.

but even if they never say it, it doesn’t make it any less true. it’s already a love story and it always has been.

[errant-heron]

Wiktionary remains the best online dictionary