#yappers anonymous

[rachymarie]

normalize rambling

normalize the messy thinkers + talkers

for one thing let's get our collective attention spans back

for another, let's be more inclusive of + compassionate towards folks whose disabilities cause "rambling" and disorganized speech/thought

[snakes-of-the-undercity]

Bring scrungly weirdos to horror movies again pls. And no I don’t just mean scrawny white dudes with receding hairlines and bug eyes, I mean actual scrungly weirdos. I don’t want them to look like celebrities/models, I don’t even want them to look like normal everyday folk! I want truly odd, off putting people to be put back into the horror genre as a mainstay.

I want more weird protagonists, I want more fat protags, I want more POC, I want more (good) disability rep, I want blood and guts and gore and I want films that explore dark subject matter and I want the fandom to use their critical thinking skills about said dark content.

I want a big fat butch to be the protag in the next big slasher movie, and I want the killer to be a weird femme that’s oddly obsessed with them (non romantic but queer af pls <3) and I want it to be scary. I want to stay up at night after from paranoia like I’m 8 years old and I just saw the waters of mars for the first time

I want the horror, the absurdity, and the odd in horror again. And don’t get me wrong, I fucking love GTD’s Frankenstein, but that is NAWT a horror movie. That could be a gothic movie, that could be fantasy or thriller or something, but there is no horror except that of creation with no laws and that wasn’t even explored in the way that horror handles the topic.

Anyway can we make mainstream horror weird again? Thanks <3

[interstellarclark]

hello !!! i just wanted to pop in and say i follow you on twitter and here and you seem like such a cool and kind person 🫶🏼 if i wasn’t so anxious i’d message you to maybe/hopefully get to know you better! hope this makes your day🩷

Aww this is SO SWEET of you to say thank you so much!! You’re so kind 🥰💕 don’t be afraid to stop by and say hello!

[rachymarie]

startin to wonder... maybe it really is ok to ramble

[interstellarclark]

Of all the fandoms I’ve been involved in, the best fic I’ve ever read was White Nights (a pregnant!omega Charles fic) and I fear the joy I felt reading that has been replicated in your new mpreg Charles fic. May the sun always smile on you lmfao

Me reading this ask like 😭😭😭 thank you SO so much!! White Nights is genuinely one of my favorite cherik fics so excuse me while I go cry at the thought of you enjoying it even a fraction as much as that!! Thank you for telling me this made my whole day!!

[interstellarclark]

Does Best Laid Plans have a happy ending please please please

Angst with a happy ending tag isn’t going anywhere 💗

[snakes-of-the-undercity]

I remember it all, the streams and the forests, the mountains and the smoke.

How the Puntledge would flood each winter, bringing with it lakes in which the geese would bathe.

How the forests would swallow up sound until a scream was a whisper, a legend amongst the folk;

Never go into the woodlands alone, a wrong step and there will only be the ferns to hear your calling

But it was mine anyway.

I remember how it felt to grasp the trunk of an old pine and look down, nearly a straight drop of rock leading to the salt below.

I remember the way the deer would flock to the bushes, and the taste of the salmon berries they ate

The tail of a cougar after, the bears would come soon.

I remember the still-living salmon rotting in the rivers, and how the eagle would leave their corpse on our roof for the crows to fight over.

I remember the smell of earth and rust in the old junkyard, cars and desks and cinder blocks taken over by moss and trees —

Nurse logs lined our paths, and witches butter curled off lighting-struck stumps.

It was my world.

And I left.

My bags packed and we left

The city dreams calling me towards the smoke and away from the forests.

And soon I found that in the thick city air I could no longer breathe, my alvioli working at half capacity

Breathe in — wheeze — now cough, repeat.

But what else could have happened, when my lungs had been split in two?

Half of me left to the storm and the salt and the forest, and half stuck in a cage of concrete slowly being crushed by cement bricks.

[snakes-of-the-undercity]

“What radicalized you”

I met people. I talked to people. I lived with artists and poets and bankers and bikers and nurses and farmers, my friends came from isolated religious communities and military houses and families that had lost parents and siblings and families that were going through the immigration process.

I sat in the dirt and ate bugs and berries and listened to kooky old ladies when they told me what plants to eat and taught me how to play bocce and gave me new books to read, and I climbed trees in my daycare with my friends to watch ambulances drive into the hospital across the road.

I swam in the ocean and watched a boy overdose outside the community college even though the hospital was less than 3 minutes away on foot because there was no one to come get him. I played piano each Thursday and had taekwondo every Monday and Wednesday night and my teachers and classmates were all different kinds of people that had no qualms about sharing their stories and their lives with me.

I was in the ‘good’ French school four times a week, and I was in the ‘juvie’ English school once a week, and my friends were from every part of everything. ‘Gifted kids’ and troubled folk and sports loving assholes with their elementary school friends.

And it was so beautiful that I couldn’t imagine it ever ending and it sucked so badly that I sometimes wanted to die and it was also just so very neutral because that’s just how life was.

And it never occurred to me that there was any other way to be than caring for all these people, that I could judge them for their messes or that they could judge me for mine. Because I was a child and I was allowed to be a child in those ways for far longer than some other folks. I was allowed to question and wonder at the cause of things without anger or fear or disgust or discomfort because my world did not yet have boundaries in which to confine the ‘normal’ and the ‘strange’.

And even when I was made aware of the supposed reality of the human condition, that in which we hate and we judge and we are needlessly cruel to all things we cannot understand, I did not want to believe it.