Sometimes You Need Dialogue Tags And Don't Want To Use The Same Four

some fucking resources for all ur writing fuckin needs

* body language masterlist

* a translator that doesn’t eat ass like google translate does

* a reverse dictionary for when ur brain freezes

* 550 words to say instead of fuckin said

* 638 character traits for when ur brain freezes again

* some more body language help

(hope this helps some ppl)

If venom 3 isn't the gayest movie ever put to screen, I'm burning my house down

“Anderson argues that Louis did not enter his romantic relationship with Armand out of spite — he feels there was a genuine love between them, and Armand represented a “calmer” and potentially more healthy partner than Lestat ever was.” - The Hollywood Reporter

“I think Louis has something else that lights a fire inside Armand again…He’s enthralled and enraptured by Louis at this point, definitely, for sure.” - Assad Zaman, Autumn Brown Interview

“Vampires are the most human monsters. They really desperately want this happiness, and to be fulfilled. And Louis finds that with Armand, certainly, in episode 4.” - Adam O’Byrne, Episode Insider

“Lestat has never gone away. Lestat is there to pass judgement on decisions that Louis is making, and one of those is his falling in love with Armand.” - Mark Johnson, Episode Insider

“There’s an inevitability about Armand for Louis. It’s like, ‘he’s nice to me.’…as Louis sees it, Armand is not without complication, but is nowhere near as messy as Lestat…With Armand, it’s like ‘we can coexist nicely, and I care about you’…Lestat is his great love. I think he does love Armand, but in a different way.” - Jacob Anderson, Collider

“This is a new dynamic for Louis and Armand together as a couple, but also, Armand's relationship with his coven because of the choice he's made in choosing love, in choosing his pursuit and happiness with Louis.” - Assad Zaman, Entertainment

“For Armand, I think in that moment, that’s Louis seeing Armand for the child that he is, for the sort of innocent that he is, and that’s what makes Armand melt…He kind of sees Louis as his protector.” - Assad Zaman, Katie O’Shaughnessy Interview

“This is really representing Louis letting go of Lestat so he can move on and build a relationship and new persona with Armand.” - Sam Reid, TV Guide

“Armand is seemingly calmer, and kind of a more, I think, gentle creature.” - Jacob Anderson, 92NY Panel

“I think he also got into that relationship knowing that there was an edge to Armand, but he kind of just chose to focus on the sides of him that were gentle and sweet and seemingly the opposite of any of the relationships that he’s had so far.” - Jacob Anderson, TV Insider

“Louis has such a curiosity and zest for life, still, and curiosity about the purpose, and I think Armand has lost that, or keeps losing it…I think there’s a light in Louis that, I don’t know if Armand understands what it is, but he just wants it, he just wants it because it keeps him going.” - Assad Zaman, ATX TV Festival

“But I think that scene in Magnus’ dungeon tower is the beginning of the spike in Louis and Armand’s relationship. I think he continues the relationship with Armand out of spite for the next 70 years.” - Jacob Anderson, The Hollywood Reporter

“…Everybody in the room relives their worst fight with someone they shouldn’t have been in love with but wanted to be; that’s the episode you come up with.” - Rolin Jones, Vulture

“The real tragedy of Armand is that even with Louis, he hasn’t fully given himself, shown himself, and revealed himself. I think, if you can’t be true to yourself and to the person you claim to love the most, if they can’t trust you to be authentic, how can you ever really be authentic?” - Assad Zaman, Autumn Brown Interview

Why are we silent???

I spoke to god and shes a teenage girl

She’s telling me about K-pop. Was it Jennie or Jung-kook?

I don’t remember and I don’t really get it but she’s so excited so I listen.

Next she begins to show me the dance sequences. They look complicated. And she tells me all about how she and her friends are going to dance together.

I ask how long I’m going to live for.

She says, how tf should I know.

And then she starts telling me about a girl named Marie. She hates Marie. Hates the way Marie holds herself, the way Marie chews her pencils, the way Marie laughs as if she’s been kicked in the teeth. 

She hates Marie so I do too.

My hamster dies tragically as they all do. Escaped onto the road and driven over. When she finds out, she mourns.

Her cries make her body convulse, like she's giving up some part of herself. Her sobbing is so loud it rattles the braces on my teeth.

She cries over my hamster’s body for 5 days and when I bury him, she delivers a eulogy so beautiful I’m almost thankful he did die, just so I could hear her speech.

When my grandma gets cancer, I demand an answer from her. Why didn’t she tell me?

She shrugs and says everyone has their time and goes back to scrolling on tiktok.

I pass my exam with a grade so good it’s shocking for mediocre me and she congratulates me. 

At my congratulatory dinner, she makes it all about herself and says our friendship was the driving force behind my good grade.

I grab her and pull her into the bathroom, where I slap her so hard there are nail marks on her cheek. 

She looks in the mirror, peeved I ruined her lipgloss.

When my first boyfriend cheats on me, I cry so much in her arms that I think I’ve cried enough to fill the Atlantic sea.

She corrects me and tells me it’s closer to The Red Sea.

I ask if I deserved this, she doesn’t answer. I ask if there's something wrong with me, she doesn’t answer. I ask if I am unlovable, she doesn’t answer.

I ask her why she didn’t respond to my last text, she says she was busy.

One day we’re eating ice cream together on a warm summer day, her rum raisin, me elderflower and I ask her what I should do to please her.

She considers the question, humming and haaing on it. Then she tells me, go to the deepest darkest part of the ocean and bring me back one of those funny looking sea creatures.

I ask if she’s being serious and she says she always is.

When i'm dying and we see each other again, she first tells me about all my wrinkles and gray hairs and recommends a guy she knows that could help with that. 

Are we going to be together forever now, I ask? 

She wrinkles her nose at that and says no, you bring down the vibes.

MAILING ADDRESS 

Town of Tusayan 

P.O. Box 709 | 845 Mustang Drive

Tusayan, AZ 86023 PHONE +1 (928) 638-9909 

EMAIL

Mayor Craig Sanderson 

mayorsanderson@gmail.com 

Vice-Mayor Becky Wirth 

tusayan.rwirth@gmail.com

Councilor | Brady Harris 

Tusayancouncilharris@gmail.com

 Councilor  |  Al Montoya 

almtusayan@hotmail.com 

Councilor  |  Robb Baldosky 

robb@tusayanaz.com 

if you don’t have time to write an email, here’s a pre-written letter: https://pastebin.com/Cc3YBWYA 

just copy, add your name, and send the email to a town member!

Please do! Corporations are the biggest criminals of climate change, environmental damage and pollution. Capitalism is rooted in destruction. 

the intimacy of being a weapon. your body is an extension of their power, your words an extension of their will. you are made significant in the way a gun is only dangerous with a finger on the trigger, and a blade only swipes through the actions of a swordsman. to have one end of yourself fit perfectly, comfortably in their hands while the other sheds blood. you are given purpose because of them, and they are given strength because of you.

Oh, to be Thanatos. You are tied to the House you were born in, title already in your hands, godhood all ready to shape you, with the starry sky of your mother's eyes holding you close. You don't really like the noise of the busy souls that crowd the hall, it's not that you didn't enjoy being a child, but the announcement of the Gentle Death was too big that your little bones had to learn how to carry it for your mother, and for the House.

And then, he is born. He is tiny, so so tiny. And he is bright and he is fire and he burns. He laughs and it echoes all throughout the house, running around with you hand in hand, a complicit smile on your face when he touched things he shouldn't, or toed the rules clumsily, falling headfirst into them. He always got on his feet, brushed the pain off his knees and smiled and giggled for you.

He used to pluck leaves off his laurels and give them to you, hide in obvious places in such a way it had to be on purpose. He always wanted to find you, and to be found. He would stand at every corner of the House of Hades, awaiting the toll of your bells. He liked your hair, and your eyes, and your smile. You don't understand how every strand of his being can radiate warmth.

You are being pulled, always. By him, and by what you must do. Cries and dying breaths, and blood of thousands of men, praying for someone to take them to a good place. Praying for one second more. And then, two seconds, for one hour. You never really understood, life can only last so much. They have to let it go, traverse the waters, so other people can see the sun, the night.

They won't stop existing. Because after the crossing of the river there are other places they can go to. Places where higher forces tell them they belong to. Just like you. Everything born in this house is tied to it. To its walls and ceilings. No one ever goes so far. No one ever leaves forever.

Except her, of course. But it's not for you to presume, whether she left because she belonged too much, or if she didn't. Neither or both, it doesn't really matter right now.

You grow up, and so does he. He is always fluttering around, the House bends at his feet. He stares bored at his papers. Spars and he looks like he is soaring with a sword in his hand. He loves. So much. So much it hurts you. It's written across his face, lettering all around his body.

You however, choke with your own thoughts, too many to ever stop and contemplate, because when you think about him there is always a glowing tangle of things you want to say, but you can never. He looks, like he knows what you want to say, but you feel like you're pushing yourself from him, when you swallow the sentences to the pit of your stomach.

They will always come back though. Acidic and a bad aftertaste of loneliness and regret, you mull their bitter ends and chew them as you wander the upper land, far away so he cannot read you. Because he is an all consuming presence, and even far away, he is around you. The bending flowers at the river. When the clouds embrace the sun, you couldn't help but think of holding him like that, too. Covering him for a moment, draping him with your figure, a breath near his own.

But that's too much. Too much. You can't, you are not there, and the war unfolding just makes you longer for him more. For the House and your mother, and the cold, gold pillars.

And then he leaves. He fucking leaves. You have to pull Hypnos's teeth and stare at your mother until she raises a brow, still shielding him. How can he go? Why would he leave? He was born here, he was here all the time. Your world, the world you love is down here, why would he discard it so easily as well?

The House is in shambles, and the steps close to the river are never fully clean. Blurred footprints that leave a messy trail.

You find him. Because how could you not? Why would you not? You have to shake him awake, remind him that his life is down here, very deeply burrowed in this realm. That upstairs and above there's nothing for them, nothing for you or him. That a search for the silhouette of a mother gone is absurd. That dying and waking, and dying and waking will drive him inside. Making you insane as well. The river Lethe is a few steps ahead, and you feel like drinking all of it so you can forget how it feels having him cut his way out of your chest. Out of your heart.

You just don't get it. Maybe you never did. Maybe you should've told him all those things that you left up there, maybe that's why he is leaving. Or maybe, he was never supposed to be known by you. Maybe he was being lended to you, and now the world wants him back.

Or maybe he just doesn't get it. Swan diving directly to the pits of seething heat, and cooling swords. To the gritty of the plagues, just to be stopped by a spear. A spear all of you know.

And he finds her. And you still don't get it. You say things that freeze his face; and he retorts back with a crackle of a flame. You used to blend so well together. Now you can't even remember how to talk to him.

It comes slowly, in long, suffering waves. He is not leaving. Just searching. Maybe because you never had to, you never understood. Maybe it's not that people are made for places; but they carve their own shapes into them. Maybe he just had to figure out the knife or his shape. But he's not leaving, he would never leave you, he says.

He would always come back and hold his breath for the toll of your bells, so you can both learn how you can blend once again, how it would feel to hold Zagreus with no choked words. Or no scathing heart breaks, left uncompleted all across the Underworld, for no one to find them, or run into them.

You never really liked the sun. But if it means that Zagreus brings back its light everytime it returns, as if he stole it or took a piece of it, to bring alight everything else; then, you wouldn't mind its warmth for a while. Life and Death, one and the same.

Thanatos and Zagreus, forevermore.