Hella Skella

“Robbie is gone! I’m still here! And I refuse to live in his shadow!”

Rastapopoulos himself may be out of the picture, but his ghost continues to haunt those who were caught in his web.

A collaboration with @aboardthescheherazade using her OC Marlene Katz - an actress Tintin tries to save in Cigars of the Pharaoh!

Five years later and Tintin is baffled to see Hollywood starlet Marlene Katz turn up at his doorstep asking for help. Formerly under the thumb of Cosmos Pictures, Marlene became an unsuspecting witness to Rastapopoulos’ criminal activity and now the mob is after her, seeking to tie up some loose ends. To top things off, she is due to make a public appearance at The Golden Palm, a prestigious film festival. After years of hiding, Marlene is determined to get her acting career back on track, and this film may be her big break.

Tintin is highly suspicious. Chang, on the other hand, is utterly star struck, and after noticing an uncanny resemblance between the two hatches a ridiculous scheme that may finally put an end to this particular problem. It might just work, but Marlene makes the last minute decision to also go undercover, feeling immense guilt over having Tintin and Chang risk their lives for her.

While Tintin is running around in heels and beating up mobsters Haddock is away on a weekend break with Ramo Nash. Before leaving he asked Chang to keep Tintin away from any incidents and to promise not to throw any house parties.

This was my first collab on this blog and I had a lot of fun bouncing ideas off with Vaye. Her blog was one of the first Tintin blogs I followed - definitely check it out, it’s an absolute treasure trove of resources and research! Below are a few notes of stuff we discussed while making this:

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accidentally ran into the literal coolest person on this earth

its wild how there is a level of closeness where no social energy is being spent in interaction because there is no gap between you to be bridged anymore. & you instead start to gain energy from the love and comfort

‘relationships are work’ means ‘you have to put effort into loving each other intentionally & learning how to love each other and communicating properly’ not ‘your relationship makes you feel stressed and sad most of the time & the other person disrespects you and treats you bad but you stay anyway’

Instead of an angel and a devil every American has a little Angelino that say shit like "Leave your wife. Start a salsa company. Join a cult." And a little New Yorker that says stuff like "You shoulda killed that guy and ate his body."

obsessed with this stupid shirt i found at goodwill the other day

girls who learned all their vocab from books and are now constantly embarrassing themselves by pronouncing words slightly wrong in conversation

let’s be real the best tumblr has EVER looked was the short span of time where you could slap code into posts and we had classics like these

tumblr has never been closer to the core aesthetic and sense of humor of its userbase 

sometimes u just gotta drink a glass of water and accept that you’re an extremely complicated person

The whole “if i played some modern day weird music to a medieval peasant he would die” thing is wrong. The peasant class back then went through so much shit. If old Maynard of Elton heard 100 gecs he would be like “O! what a grieveſome ſong! yet it drowneth out the moaning of the dying cowſ.” and go on his way. now the medieval nobles? most physically fragile people to ever live. half a second of Maroon 5 would have a duke’s son melted in a puddle of viscera on the cobblestone floor.

Rachel at Autostraddle (in an agony aunt column that’s actually about biphobia, but took this excellent turn into Why You Don’t Have To Grovel To People’s Neuroses)

using a multiverse as a narrative framework to tell an immigrant story really is THE best possible implementation of this concept. like the idea that every time you make a decision in your life a different branching universe splits off where you chose differently, while obviously broadly universal because of course everyone wonders what if (what if i had chosen differently, what would my life look like then), really does hit such a specific core question that is imo fundamental to the immigrant experience

all the time my parents talk about imagining what lives they might have lived if they had chosen differently, if they had never left home, if they had never come here, if they had not raised their daughter in a world and a culture so utterly foreign to their own where she might make her own choices that are painfully incomprehensible to them. it’s all tied up with a sense of grief and loss and regret and almost existential melancholy, not necessarily because they think they chose wrong specifically, not because they think they’d actually choose differently if they had a chance to do it over again, but merely because that choice is such a monumental one and the enormity of it and the ripples it would end up causing are only obvious in retrospect. you make the choice to uproot your life and move to a different world, a different universe, and once you cross that bridge you can never go back. you can never truly go home again. and when we do go back to visit, we see in their old friends and classmates and relatives funhouse versions of ourselves, people we might have been but never were and never will be.

every immigrant story is a ghost story and the ghosts that haunt you are all the people you left behind including yourself—versions of yourself, of your family, of your children, of the people that are you but that you are not, lives that you recognize but are not yours. immigrant stories are ghost stories are multiverse stories and in multiverse stories all of your ghosts inhabit your body simultaneously, everyone who came before you and after you and everyone you left behind, everything that is and everything that never was… it really is everything everywhere all at once i am going to scream

The soul suck is so real and I wish more people were honest about the fact that most of our depression and mental illness isn’t an individual ailment but a collective stare down of a future that seems increasingly pointless… Like actually it is very hard to live without family traditions and a purpose/Gods/something greater/collective vision and to design your life around individual accomplishment. For some reason we aren’t allowed to say this… the only acceptable causation is personal trauma and a “chemical imbalance”.