Hey, I'm Alannaa. This is my blog.
I write shit, and like shit. Feel free to explore.
Infinite love and thanks to thegrinningcrow for my color scheme, icon, and header image!
I track the tag #ficcyshit, if you want to catch my attention.
So there I was, ready to take a shower. I mean, I was dirty, a little greasy, a shower was not such a horrible idea. People take showers, amiright? Of course!
I get naked.
I’m talking the exact opposite reason why you ever went to your grandmother’s house.
No cookies. Blatant nudity.
That’s how folks take showers these days, right? Well, I pull back the curtain…
And there it was.
This…thing…sitting on the little soap/shower/pube shelf. Not a care in the world, like it’s been there for years. “What the fuck is that?” I think to myself.
Now, what follows is the exact pattern of thought that took me from rational human being to Sloth in 3.4 seconds.
“Is that a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit? Holy fuck that’s a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit. OMG why would someone leave that unattended. Those things are so delicious. I’m gonna eat the fuck out of it. Man, I can’t wait to see whoever left it’s face when they come back to find that someone ate their cheesy biscuit’s fuck. Ohhh boy.”
Then my brain sent a message to my arm that said, “Reach for that cheesy biscuit, bitch. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?”
As you must already know, we are all contractually bound to make a dickload of mistakes throughout our lifetime. Some of those mistakes are so big that they forever hinder our world and warrant entire chapters in our children’s history books. However, most mistakes have the dubious providence of merely haunting one’s soul and festering amidst the subconscious for always and eternity.
This was, nearly, one of those.
If my adjacency to failure could be measured, the only possible unit of measurement to appropriate it would be “baby condoms”. And no, I do not mean those horrendous papoose-like titty-cribs that the slovenly carriage their spawn around in in Wal-Mart, I mean condoms that a baby would wear.
My adjacency to failure was roughly 1 and a half Kiddie Trojans.
I’m not sure what stopped me, be it cosmic or supernatural, but it gave my brain just enough time to ask itself some rather important questions regarding this little tub treasure. Questions like:
“WHO, THE FUCK, WOULD LEAVE A CHEESY BISCUIT IN MY SHOWER?!”
And inquiries such as:
“AND WHY WERE YOU GOING TO EAT IT, MORON?!”
Seriously, was I so hungry that I would wantonly disobey all the integral conditioning and survival imprinting my parents bestowed upon me like the ever important, “Um, don’t eat that biscuit, you don’t know where it’s been or whose it is and also you found it in the shower.” in order to satisfy something so benign as a munchie?
That, I’m sorry to say, was pretty much my reality.
An early morning introspective psychological evaluation of a sad, hungry, naked man who almost ate a bar of soap.
OMG ITS BACK
This shit needs to be published.
This is going in the monologue section and I’m not even sorry.you needed to read this I’m crying
This is wonderful
Do you ever ‘wtf white people’ even though you are a white people.
You know what I really enjoy doing? I really enjoy making fan troll designs for people. Just simple, 10 minute designs that really serve no purpose rather than to keep myself occupied and present a project to mutuals.
So, I’ve decided that I’m going to do just that. For every reblog this post gets, I will design a fan troll based on you and your blog for free.
These are a few examples of my work. If you’d like your own fan troll design for your blog, just reblog this post.
EXACT REACTION OMG
omfg 267% accurate
I dearly wish that people would view their bodies as they view flowers…
Skin patches? Birthmarks?
Scars? Stretch marks?
Freckles? Moles? Acne scars?
Missing a few pieces?
handsome as ever~
Feel like you just look weird?
you’re fantastic looking~
THIS is the best post ever.
Why can’t people treat me like a flower? I’m beautiful, dammit!
After threats against her life, Anita Sarkeesian canceled an upcoming talk at Utah State University. Gamergate trolls are celebrating on Twitter while simultaneously dismissing the threats as nothing. Does this read like nothing to you?“I will write my manifesto in her spilled blood, and you will all bear witness to what feminist lies and poison have done to the men of America.”
The email’s author threatened to murder feminist women indiscriminately in a mass shooting. And because carrying guns on campus outweigh the right of students and guests to be safe, Anita Sarkeesian canceled her talk.
BUT WE SHOULDN’T FEEL THREATENED, RIGHT?
BECAUSE IT’S JUST THE INTERNET, RIGHT?
The bullies won this time. And if you think this shit isn’t dangerous, I’m fresh out of fucks to give and I’m not restocking any time soon. It’s goddamn wrong to to dismiss this by claiming the author isn’t serious. Elliot Rodger’s rantings were dismissed until it was too late.
This. Is. Not. OK.
Students burn Mexican govt. building in protest over police corruption
Hundreds of residents in a southern-Mexican city smashed up the state capital building in a furious protest over the continued lack of information about 43 local college students, believed to have been abducted by corrupt police. The local police are allegedly working with a powerful drug cartel and it’s feared that 10 newly discovered mass graves my contain the bodies of the students taken on September 26. “Up to 20” charred remains were discovered on Saturday. As an investigation is underway, 26 police officers have so far been arrested, a number of which admitted to working with the Guerreros Unidos - an infamous drug cartel. Arrest warrants have also been issued for the mayor of Iguala, Jose Luis Albarca, his wife and his security chief, but they have gone into hiding.
what if the reason nobody can tell fred and george apart is because they really are interchangeable
not in a ~it doesn’t matter~ way but like. molly and arthur used to worry that fred and george might turn out to be squibs because they weren’t doing any accidental magic as children, but they were, THEY TOTALLY WERE, it just wasn’t anything flashy, instead they were just like idly switching bodies all the time
and like sometimes it doesn’t make much of a difference, whatever, wake up in the opposite bed you went to sleep in, but it gets like dangerous and weird if you’re on a broom or in the pond or letting your mum teach you to cook or trying to be mad stealth, so for a long long time everybody presumes they’re clumsy maybe-squibs and that they’re doing their twin lying thing when they try to explain what’s going on, so they learn to handle the issue their ownselves
they just. don’t go anywhere without the other. they start each day deciding which body is going to be which (because at this point they really don’t know which body is technically fred and which is technically george), and they learn to reorient FAST when they switch, and what things set them off, and eventually they learn how to act like nothing’s up even when one of them’s in the air and one’s on the ground or whatever, and then they burn past that til they can finish each other’s sentences — til they can switch midsentence — til they can play beater together — til they can switch in a split second in the middle of a game — til there’s room for other kinds of accidental magic to start showing up
at hogwarts they keep each other awake in history of magic by switching back and forth. in potions they take turns brewing and keeping lookout for the slytherins. in transfiguration and charms they keep their grades up because one of them will always get a spell right on the first try so they switch and make it look like both of them do and then they practice on their own later in private. it keeps the mystery alive.
at first they thought lee was just a lucky guesser but no, lee can always tell one twin from another twin — it’s not exactly telling fred from george, because while they are definitely two distinct personalities neither one of them feels like fred all the time or george all the time — but lee knows who he argued with yesterday or who he lent his notes to or who’s best to ask for help in astronomy and who’s best at runes.
the weasleys are pretty bad at it for the longest time, but then bill comes home from his first year cursebreaking and he can tell, and over a holiday he teaches his trick to charlie so charlie can tell. alicia and katie and angelina can tell. the twins honestly don’t know if oliver can tell or not; so long as they’re doing what they’re supposed to on the quidditch pitch he doesn’t really care about much else. harry can tell. luna can tell. tonks can tell.
the problem is there’s no way for this to end happily
YES THERE IS
THERE IS INDEED A WAY FOR THIS TO END HAPPILY LISTEN UP
so after fred dies, george hates being trapped in one body, feels claustrophobic, misses fred so much he thinks it might drive him insane
but then one day
george blinks and he’s somewhere he wasn’t a second ago, he’s in a place full of white light and he can’t orient himself, can’t ground himself, feels dizzy and sick and overwhelmed but it only lasts for about thirty seconds.
then he’s back in his own body.
and he looks down at his chest, his legs, his arms, there’s an ear missing so it’s definitely still his living body, but there’s something written on his arm, scrawled in messy quill ink.
"i love you. i miss you."
george flips out, washes off the ink and immediately writes a message in reply— “how’s death going?”
he walks around with that message written on his arm for weeks, always keeping a quill pen somewhere nearby, waiting, waiting, before it finally happens again. the switch. george is alive, so he can’t handle being in the afterlife, he feels dizzy and sick and it’s the worst feeling in the world, but it doesn’t last long, and when he gets back to his living body, there’s a long message from fred waiting on his right thigh, the ink still drying.
this goes on for years, never as often as either twin would like, but it’s enough. fred helps george figure out how to propose to angelina, fred helps plan the wedding. sometimes it’s fred in george’s body when angelina kisses her husband. sometimes she suspects, but she doesn’t mind in the slightest.
it gets easier as george gets older. the times when he switches into fred’s afterlife don’t hurt as much. he almost feels comfortable there, almost feels oriented. he knows he’s getting closer to dying.
then when george is past ninety, lying on his deathbed, he writes a careful message on his palm. “i’m coming soon. where are you?”
they switch, it lasts for almost five minutes this time, and when george gets back into his own body, he sees the instructions fred wrote over his heart.
"you’ll wake up in king’s cross station. take the second train and get off at the third stop. i’ll be waiting."
friendly reminder that this scene was improvised
SNAPE IN THE BACK THOUGH
AND THE WAY VOLDY JUST GOES WITH IT LIKE A PRO AND EVEN IS LIKE “DAMMIT AGAIN??”
do you know what it’s like to be unmade?
this man is basically just a giant kitten okay
Wow they really improved the graphics on Tucker this season
#rvb13 looks great
this was relevant when I was in 6th grade and it’s still relevant in college