#over and over

Loki fans: Thor isn’t better than Loki!

Also Loki fans, when Thor hurts Loki to defend himself or his freedom: But Thor should be better than Loki! He’s allegedly the hero!!!!

See full text below:

To My Bestie @fortunatelyclevercandy,

I hope this finds you (because I will post most of it on Instagram later and if you miss it there, I will post it on Twitter and Tumblr and WordPress).

I did something I never thought I would do–again. Nothing serious; I do it all the time. You will call me a drama king because apparently I am. Just so you know, it is your fault I am a drama king.

Do you want to why it is your fault? Because you just had to go off and be the best friend I ever had. What is is wrong with you? You just had to be the perfect mess to my imperfect mess. You had to be the calm to my storm. You just had to know me better than I know myself.

Because of you, I like peas again. I have not liked peas since I was a baby and I ate 5 jars of them. Because of you, I am now addicted to Peppa Pig. I have no idea how many episodes I have recorded since our infamous mug incident.

You just had to point out my obvious talents I never knew I had and turn them into my life’s dreams. You had to be just one degree less crazier than me–which is saying a lot considering 99% of our conversations would make people wonder why neither one of us is sitting in Bedlam babbling about how we killed Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

You just had to introduce me to our alter egos and now I cannot go to sleep without thinking about weird British cats and what the hell is going on in the Canadian Tundra while reading quotes by C.S. Lewis and dreaming about destroying Hufflepuff in Quidditch because I am a Gryffindor.

You drive me crazy. You drive me nuts. As if I was not crazy enough as it was you had to come along. And you know what? I have never been happier in my life. I will probably remain this happy for the rest of our lives and if there is another life, I am quite sure we will be there and will terrify a whole new world of people–In French, Italian, Spanish, German, Latin and Portuguese.

I could care LESS if you think I am a drama king or that I am overly sentimental or talk about you too much. Shut up and DEAL with it. I am going to do it anyway and you cannot stop me–until we are in the same room and you proceed to hit me over the head with a box of cookies. I am kidding. You would never hit me with a box full of cookies. You have hardly met a cookie you did not like.

In conclusion, I figured out the secret to finding the perfect guy for me: Tell them what it is really like to love someone like me; how to put up with someone like me. It will terrify the weak ones and intrigue the strong ones. Because no one has ever (and probably never) loved me or put up with me as well as you, they have one very large mountain to climb and some seriously big shoes to fill.

You have got to be the single most incredibly awesomely beautiful person who swears like a sailor in two languages I have ever met in my entire life who knows if WikiHow properly explains cooking pasta using clipart.

We met the very same year these characters met and we are still together like these two characters. In 100 years–even 1000 years–people will look back at us and probably ask, “What the F*k was that? Are you f*king kidding me? You mean these people were real?”

Good. Because sometimes even I wonder if I am living in a dream and I will wake up and all this wonderful will disappear. This is my Happy New Year ‘thing’ for you. So Happy New Year, my dearest, most beloved friend in all the universe. You are the only pain in the ass I do not mind having. You are the thorn in my side that reminds me I can do better (and corrects also my English in a Northern Italian accent with a French Twist).

I love you is not good enough for you, but it will have to do. Thank you for everything.

Love,

The Drama King.

i went out to eat just the once last week. i caught covid. it’s funny; except for the parts that aren’t. my fever is keeping a patient 1.9 degree change - up and down between 99 and 100.9. i like that it only whispers against that 101; i keep telling my mom i’m just glad for the vaccines. the irony is: i have already spent this month healing. i like the little pretty circle - one exact month ago (to the day! i laugh to her, holding up the test, to the exact day!), i got my heart broken by you. you stood there with your hands in fists and set your jaw in that way so-full-of-resentment. and then i was just… out of your life. so neatly demolished.

we met at the start of the pandemic. it’s funny, except, bitterly, for the ways that it is not, and the hours i have spent on my floor, dominated by loss, sobbing into her collarbone. there are so many worse things happening at the moment; i feel petty and stupid to be laid out in bed. my therapist says my pious desire for quiet suffering is in the opposite direction of acceptance - but what else am i going to do? complain about it? post my paypal, so other people who are scraping-by can send me the money they need to feed themselves? and what will i do with that grief, knowing i shouldn’t have taken what they cannot lose?

i can’t quite outrun my catholic upbringing, i guess. i know i should be suffering in a witty, gentle way. i have this strange desire to forgive you, as if it would justify the violence. i keep picturing the unsaids between us; knowing the fictional conversations are spirals. i switch between the always-angry you made a choice about my needs and my future without talking to me first and the bitterly still-in-love sonnet of i would have changed for you.

this is the nature of healing. i drink my water. i write more than i used to, since you asked me to never write about you. i get up and i do gentle yoga. i get up and i take a little time to feel my body in the sunlight, and then i sleep for hours.

but it hurts the whole time, is the thing. over and over.

donebeingjollytimetobenaughty:

mama didn’t raise a quitter she raised a burnt out perfectionist who settles for mediocrity

Heed these words,

I promise I will kill

every last thing

I hate about myself

If it is the last thing I do

ashtray-girl:

“In the 70s it was black and minority ethnic people, in the 80s it was gay people, trans people are just the latest to get it in the neck from comedians who can’t be bothered to try at their jobs anymore. I cannot stand there and watch another dogshit comedian go: ‘Ooohh if a woman can identify as a man, maybe I’ll identify as a chair!’ Why don’t you identify as good comedians, you hack motherfuckers?!”

- Nish Kumar: “It’s In Your Nature To Destroy Yourselves pt.2”