who are you?
i am postcardmystery, also known as postcard, postcord, and oh, you better run, also known as poptart, but only gyzym gets to call me that.
i cannot be adequately textually rendered, but this photo just about covers it:
who is gyzym?
actually, let’s be honest, precisely no one is asking this question, because my baby, she’s the shit. in case you are the only person ever to have stumbled across my tumblr without knowing who my darling is, here you go: this is gyzym. she is, in this order: a) my favourite, b) the __ to my __, c) the romantic friendship love of my life, d) the only reason i ever write anything, and e) french toast, but only i’m allowed to call her that. i met her some time ago, and she never quite managed to shake me off, although any sensible person would have said, “jesus, why is there so much kneecapping in your stories?” one day i shall conquer the might of the atlantic ocean, and then we are bonnie and clyde-ing this shit. (i call first stop nashville, i know how you love it, baby.)
what can I find in this blog?
nosebleeds, bettie page, bats and rats and puppy-dog-tails, combat boots, ice queens, dirtydark jersey bands, beautiful lingerie, cupcakes, history and historiography, moral ambiguity, libertine poets, badass female musicians, nail polish, badass female writers, badass females, righteous anger, queerness, sheriffs and cowboys and outlaws, pretentious poetry, post-/apocalypses, feminism, (still not a dirty word), ripped stockings and smeared lipstick, vampires, superheroes, superheroes everywhere, villains of all kinds, and a thousand thousand hopes and dreams. (THEATRE!!!)
on a more serious note, well, things that interest me. my fic. my meta. my recs. lots of pictures of sebastian stan. bucky barnes stan for life. (although my sexiest tag is, without doubt, hbic.)
i sent you an ask and you didn’t answer, ugh, sadface, why do you suck?
ugh, yeah, i know i do! i do this, and i’m sorry! sometimes i get horribly overwhelmed by the fact that people want to talk to me, because i am actually the most awkward person in the world.
real life story to illustrate this: my friend introduced me to the fantastic person who is going to be my master’s dissertation supervisor by saying, “he’s sort of awkward, you’re sort of awkward, you’ll love him!” (i do. i sort of want to sylar his brain.) but i am so awkward, you guys. i can overcome it sometimes more easily in real life than online, because i was given the gift of let’s-talk-this-to-death-with-wild-hand-movements, but that doesn’t work so well on a computer screen! so if it’s something i really should know, just ask me again!
will you tell me your feels about [insert character here] or about [insert historical issue here]?
uh, yeah. i spend my entire life trying to wildly shoehorn my feels into conversation with people who aren’t that interested, so yes, i am most definitely into that. provided i feel suitably informed about that area, of course, because one of my greatest hatreds in life is people writing with authority about history they know nothing about. CRAZY THEATRE FEELINGS, THOUGH, ETC. on that note, this is the most accurate impression that anyone has ever done of me.
yeah, but, like, who are you? where are you from? what are you?
oh, yeah, that. well, i am white, cisfemale, pansexual (although bisexual will do) 23 year-old from the north-east of england. i am a postgrad student in english and what i will shakily term cultural history, (i always feel more like a historian than anything else). i used to do classics, and now i just look at certain words and see greek everywhere. i have numerous hidden disabilities, am a vegetarian, teetotal, non-smoker. (but i will defend your right to the death, etc.) i am also an extremely liberal, borderline excommunicable, roman catholic. i don’t think believing in god makes me stupid or blinkered, so please don’t treat me so. oh, and my family is basically the addams family, it’s great fun.
on an appearance note, as someone did ask, i have very dark hair, and very pale skin. (my hair has been: bleached blonde, for all the hour it took to dye it neon red, and then a weird orange colour, and then cosmic blue, and then black, and then back to almost-black. i miss the neon red, but it was hard to keep it up.) i am pretty thin, very petite, and have very dark circles under my eyes, stupid-thin wrists and child hands. if you want to know about me, that tag is your friend, and this post in particular.
can i make art/podfic/translate/write something based on your fic?
yes. YES. all i ask is that you can tell me so i can both promote the hell out of it and feel like a superstar for a good ten minutes.
tips for curing writer’s block?
find the song that makes you write, that makes you feel like you don’t know how to stop. that’s what i do. all of my stories have a “song”. i actually, personally, don’t know how to turn it off most of the time, my periods of writer’s block are brief and mostly borne of tiredness than anything else. i assume this is because i had a massive hiatus where i didn’t start writing again until i was twenty. i’ll run out one of these days, just you wait and see.
life mottos?
boyd crowder for king of harlan & god, i fucking love the theatre