#long text posts

[moonbear-from-space]

Venom 3 rumors and stuff oh my!

So more news and stuff as of lately as come out with Venom 3. We first got earlier a deleted scene from the first movie shown by Tom Hardy himself. (Really thought this was a teaser for Venom 3 but it's not, they wouldn't be allowed to show that yet.)

We know that filming will start around June time, Toxin will be in it, and of course rumors have slowly started popping up. The two so far I seen both being from twitter is this list of things (and this one too). Also please take with a fistful of salt. Some of these could be easily true and some could be fake.

Next this recent one that was while take from reddit, I first saw on twitter. is probably one of the most oddest yet interesting things I have ever read. xD If this was a really good AO3 fan fic then that would be fine. But as a movie? I'm unsure about that.

Then again these are just notes, so there gonna sound messy at first before you polish them up and expand on them. Anyways, the one thing that both have in common is that mulitverse will play into this in some form.

Spider Man might have some appearance in the movie, but I'm unsure how that would play out. Really hoping it's Andrew Garfield Spidey, but likely won't be. I guess those rumors normally come up just because people wanna see them fight again but I just wanna see them team up that's all.

Other rumors I saw before and in that first post I mention, of Raimi Venom/Eddie making some return in Venom 3 and Madame Web. And if that's the case my likely guess is that he will only appear at the very end of the movie for a post credit scene. But that's my theory, so I could be completely wrong with that.

Lastly Toxin, as we all know they will be in but we don't know if they will be another villian or a rival instead, hoping the second one. Chance are it's gonna be another symbiote that Eddie/Venom will fight, but we shall see. None of us know whats gonna really happen next.

My only hope is that it will be still a fun movie overall and filled with funny moments, cool action and of course romance between our 2 favourite love birds.

Thank you for reading this long ramble of text, it won't be too long now for more rumors and even leaks to show up more around June time. Take care for now. c:

[altarflame]

Let me give you this real country music breakdown.

Keeping in mind that 2019 involved lots of gut wrenching transition, including divorce and selling my home of 11 years (the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere). Moving away from the tropics, to a place where the ocean is usually too far and my plants can’t live outside through the winter. I had a kid move out and away, for the first time.   My oldest friend also died last August, after a scant 3 month long battle with cancer. It was a real plague upon my proverbial dog, wife, and pickup truck. And, of course, I’m living through a pandemic, and a long overdue but very emotional racial justice uprising, with the rest of you, now. Anyway. OTHER than those things, my 2020 has been like...My sister’s gradually, gut wrenchingly cut off all contact with me over the past couple of years, culminating in the last couple of months, whenst we no longer speaketh at all. I’ve fought hard for this to be different and it’s still very sharp. I don’t think I’ll ever give up hope, or stop making a fool of myself about it. A new friend I was starting to really care about hung herself in April. I’ve tried to be there for her husband and 5 year old daughter when and how I can, which is honestly not much. I’ve taken several people who were scared to go alone, to her grave.  I felt forced to break up with the person I thought was my soul mate, these past 3 years, and wanted to be with forever, and I have grieved it hard over the last couple of months. I’m still processing this. I’m gonna be processing this for awhile. My threshold for being anywhere near him without overwhelming sobbing is apparently approximately 45 seconds. In the beginning we were scrambled together, mixed in a celestial bowl and hand fluffed with a feather. And the tears of bliss were not amiss - it was a good day.  But the story nears the present time Of restlessness and wake up calls Wake up! Years have flown fast but then who's counting The wars have been won but there's few left standing between us And the shadows of Christmas past... Critically acclaimed but sadly underrated - Fortune definitely favored us, but no one celebrated. Our wits were splitting at their ends... We gazed upon the city lights We each laughed aloud one final time and agreed: This is one thing we'll miss... On his way out, he sabotaged my part time foster child’s mom’s tenuous, fragile relationship with me, so I no longer have the ability to connect with or help that child who he brought into my life. Who I love and wonder about and periodically hear horror stories about via mutual friends. I bent over backwards, I burned calories straining for that trust between the mom and myself.  

It’s so terrible sometimes. It hurts so bad. Jean-Paul. LAURA.   *MILLS*  . Coralye. FUCK. This post brought to you with plenty of hard crying, and no shortage of echoing painful music. I’m physically sick about this shit semi often.  I don’t normally let go of anybody, guys. But certainly not my fucking nearest and dearest.  I have a lot. I have SO MUCH. I know this. I feel good a lot of the time.  I have all 5 of my kids under this roof while the pandemic rages on, and they’re all healthy and beautiful and they all love me and talk with me. It’s mostly all cake these days with them, Elise telling me where she is in her own solitary reading for pleasure, Ananda cracking me up, Jake biking to the grocery store for treats to share, Aaron showing me something amazing in the yard, Isaac washing dishes and giving me weirdly helpful and totally unanticipated advice. They’re almost no work now, it’s all return on investment and I have tons of privacy and I use the fuck out of it.  I’m deeply in love with somebody these past 7 months. Being deeply in new love AND devastated-heartbroken about lost love at the same time is honestly dizzying, I spent a first destitute day thinking maybe I can’t do polyamory anymore, period. Maybe this is too fucking much and I’m gonna be alone and focus on my career and my goddamned plants. (<--not fucking really, obv I am not gonna let the pain win and go full hermit. Brief compelling temptation, though.) My career and my plants are great, btw, thanks for asking. I’ve got basically my dream job, it’s flexible and lackadaisical AND meaningful and challenging, it’s salaried with bonuses and hella benefits and amazing job security. It’s the whole thing, the culmination of 6 years in school and unpaid internships and volunteering. I even have a spare PRN position elsewhere that I mostly hang on to because it’s fun when they want me to come make $200 for a shift, to mix it up a little.  And I have solo projects, writing and web and mental health, all in the works, and they’re good.  I have seedlings sprouting. I have a yard that is pure magic, revealing new secrets each day.  I’ve got some of my oldest people, like Jess. I’ve got some exciting new people, like Jill.  The love, did I mention it? Holy shit. I’ve got Sterling, and that is a whole other story. That it’s been this good while things are this bad is pretty astounding. His own drama quotient has been off the charts, too. I almost can’t imagine how wonderful it would be if we weren’t constantly adrift in a sea of bullshit, though I also strongly suspect we both need a certain staggering minimum quota of bullshit. It’s no accident that we met mutually chasing along after the wake of the same madman’s chaos. We’re nursing some deep wounds in each other, waking up some old old hurts and soothing them back down smaller and smaller. Anytime we’re touching it’s either syrupy soma sweet, blazing inferno hot, or a staggering blend of the two - and then we pull apart to try to actually speak with whole brains, and inevitably take turns being baffled, just hilariously relieved, at how easy it is to communicate. We alternate coming at each other on tiptoe, braced, and then feeling confused and just.... amused? Skeptical? that the other is totally able to empathize with what was just said and is accepting it gently.  We don’t have a ton of objective stuff in common, on paper. We’re both very wordy and linguistic, we’re analyzers, we draw unusual people who will feel safe telling us insane things. We’re both hypersexual perverts, chronic pickers, we both wear too much black. It doesn’t go a lot further than that at a glance. We both have PTSD and ironclad outward facing coping skills, nostalgia for the Florida Keys, scientific skepticism mixed with some faith in magic.... we were both brilliant children who felt pretty isolated. But I haven’t ever really felt like anyone is loving me the way I love people, before. I’ve never even felt like anyone else received my love, the same way I intended it, or at least not all of it. It’s like the intensity of what I’m conveying and meaning when I kiss somebody’s cheek, I dunno man, he experiences it. The goofy flowing sense I have, of holding hands, he comments on it all the time. I’m not just like.... alone, in my overwhelm with being touched, or my enthusiasm for sensations, and that is honestly pretty new to me. Sterling is not tolerating my affection for my sake, and I’m still gradually adapting to that with periodic backsliding into hesitance, and unneeded apologies. It’s like we’re totally fluent in the precise same love language, so nothing gets lost, and the feedback loop is instantaneous.  He’s dark inside, but dark like Nine Inch Nail’s A Warm Place. Dark like the womb.  So as I was saying. I have so much. Including a candle that’s about Mills, and is burning behind me, giving me this slipping sense that I need to blow it out, I need to reserve it, it’s gonna be gone soon. This one spans so many feelings, it’s been positive, some new candle would be what, voodoo? Meddling? I don’t know. This one’s been in a drawer, with our ring buried in it (my dragon). What will I do with that ring? What will I do with all this love?  How can I contain so much, anyway? Why can’t anything ever replace anything else? It’s like infinite space, and the empty places just keep throbbing, and it’s like I sprout new spots for new fullness and the cavities pulse on.  I’m deeply grateful for a certain self-completeness I’ve come to understand that I have, and that not everyone does. I am resiliant A-motherfucking-F (<--meta vulgar!). AND YET. OW OW OW.  I’m sitting here trying to exposure therapy my way through my Mills playlist, as I write this, so Spotify can’t surprise me into sads anymore. I’ve gotten already to a place where sometimes i remember positive things purely positively, and laugh and tell a story and it’s ok. I’m bitter as all hell that I can’t even talk to my sister about this breakup, after she had so many stupid goddamned feelings about the relationship itself, about polyamory in general, about ever knowing him (which might have allowed her to help me grieve at all).  Sigh. I love the internet, maybe feel free to send me a message if you’re still reading, whoever the fuck you are <3

[vaguelyclevermatters]

Me, scrolling to the end of a long post: *sees the red heart button*

Me, questioning my entire existence: I liked this?? wHEN did I like this?!?! I’ve never seen this post in my liFE!!

[altarflame]

I’ve got this broken leather bracelet on my desk, one pearl left of the original three, shreds of strands where length used to be. It was $75 when I bought it, absurdly expensive for a bracelet by my usual standards - my shopping addicted, fashion oriented friend Jess said, “it’s an investment piece.”

I tied it around the wrist of my lover Mills one morning before I left his town to drive back to mine, without him. We’d been rolling the night before. He’d fallen asleep with his head on my thigh and his fingers inside me. He paced around the bedroom he usually shares with his other lover, slowly, speaking little and with gravity, saying the sex we’d been having was some of the best he’d ever had. We kept hugging by the door, long and lingering, until finally I took my bracelet off and I tied it around his wrist, like a vow. He made heavy eye contact with me. He referred to it later on as something I’d “artfully” done. 

It’s broken because later, weeks later, he was high on crazy research chemical drugs and he broke it as he jumped out of a (closed) window. You can see it like that, you can say, “of course he broke it, he breaks things. My investment piece.” 

But I know he appreciated this bracelet. I understood it would be worn to ribbons or worn til it was lost when I gave it to him, and I don’t regret this. I know he didn’t mean for it to break, I know he went back to the place it lay broken on the ground and he found it and tied it back on, barely, broken though it already was. Still two out of three pearls, then.

I know he’s held on to plenty of things I’ve given him like they’re precious, more than he usually does, more than people think he can. People who want to Knowing Look me now, about all that’s been lost and broken.

Like the person who warned me, that he took a hammer to the Stardust watch I gave him for a birthday. That’s true. Pulsing ugly hateful true. It’s also true that it was water damaged before that, accidentally and he was really sad that it was, and he’s always arming himself against something that seems inevitable. Arming himself by lashing out at me, vitriolic psychic energy, recoil against the depth of the love, supposed secrets that get back to me again and again. As though I couldn’t sense them, anyway. 

There’s never been a close, sweet time with him, a blending pulling wondrous intimacy, without a voice in the back of my head somber and heavy, knowing and nodding, “I’m going to have to pay for this.”

I don’t understand why he can’t keep track of more, why he can’t make some effort to preserve, why he can’t revel in what’s good without recoil, but I also completely do, and it’s infuriating. I listen to LadyTron’s “Destroy Everything You Touch” on repeat sometimes now, driving fast, replies happening in my head whether I want them to or not. 

I’ve had a plan to bury this bracelet for weeks. It sits on my desk, unburied, also unsalvageable. It’s only in my house at all because he couldn’t throw it out, wrecked though it is. It had come to rest draped over a bar in the bathroom downstairs, where he maybe artfully placed it, or maybe forgot all about it, forever. Maybe those are the same thing, for him. I can’t understand that, but I also completely do, and it’s infuriating. 

The worst fight we ever had was about my efforts to preserve. He flew into a violent rage the likes of which I’d never seen from him, about both his staunch refusal to ever be careful with himself, and his fury that I would dare to wish for such a thing. He screamed at me for almost three hours, the kind of rage screaming that he likes to say people are “resilient” for bearing, and that I think absolutely nobody should ever put up with. He collapsed into an upset stomach and exhaustion, when I told him that he didn’t deserve my nurturing or concern if he was gonna hate me for having them. 

Then he forgot the whole thing; three hours of screaming down the hatch and into the minefield, his abstract art piece of undealt with explosives. Placed and “forgotten.” He acted baffled and sympathetic, that I remembered what this fight was about, less than a month later. Attacked and confused, that I wanted him to remember. 

Sometimes I actually think I have the onus of responsibility, I have the agency and the understanding for both of us. As though he’s not brilliant and capable. As though I don’t also get SCARED. 

It’s just a difference of opinion; how to deal with eventual loss. Except that my way involves being together decades longer, with less rips in the meantime. But by all means, keep hold of those reins, ride straight into the fire. Goodbye. 

Ow.  

[thebowltender]

do you ever get to the end of a long text post that you determined you werent interested in reading and then catch a sentence at the end that makes you go 'oh wait now i want to read this' and then you have to scroll all the way up again

[tinadapenguin1]

Me whenever I see long-ass posts:

[howardatlas]

The faint grey lines on the left side of the texts should get progressively thinner the further you scroll down so you know how far there is to go on long text posts

[manicpixiescreamgrl]

Lesbians all freaking out, like : “Fuck these cisgender straights that keep asking me how I have sex”.

Like.. why does that offend you? XD

What kind of sex are you having that this question just blows you away? Are you from the 50’s, secretly living among us? Are you secretly having extraterrestrial, tentacle-powered sex? (Because if so, I wanna know about that)

Why are you not amused as shit at the wonder in their eyes? Why you so offended that they think it sounds gross/painful?

Because, check it:

We grow up with straight sex everywhere. So, progressing into the teenage years, people see it on tv, wondering if that’s true to reality. Asking their older friends how it works, what it feels like, and how far they’ve gone with their bf/gf, or on a first date, etc. That questioning phase is a normal part of the growing up experience.

So, enter lesbian sex, which you still can’t find but on a few select shows. XD People have literally nothing to go off of, so they revert back to a childlike stage of trying to understand a concept that they’ve never encountered before. And I feel like it comes off as offensive, because it seems like they should be old enough to know. But.. how would they know?

And I know you’re like, “but Sara. They’re looking at me all disgusted. They’re homophobic.”

Okay, trust me. XD You explaining how you fuck is not as beautiful in infomercial form, as I’m sure it is in its cinematic process. XD

If a straight guy starts telling me about how they take their doodiddly and shove it inside women, or a woman starts telling me about how they go down on their man, I’m going to make the same mildly horrified expressions. Because honestly, the visuals I get are scary as shit. XD I just think about all sorts of (un)related things, and.. *shudder*cringe*polite but pained nodding*

So, yeah.

I just don’t know why everyone’s tripping out. If you don’t want to explain, just be like “I’ll tell you when you’re older”, “I could show you”, or reverse it, “How do you and *your* significant other have sex??” Depending on the situation.

If they get pissed off that you won’t tell them, or say shitty things to you, then they *are* probably either homophobic or just shitty. So punch them.. I’m just kidding. (But really)

The learning curve, ladies. Don’t let it get you down. You fuck beautifully.