#<- its the school curriculum's fault but still

[navysealt4t]

a little downside to my 'mark when and what to study in a calender' plan. my brain has now decided to finish the like 9 morning bells im missing that arent required to be turned in until the 12th even though i have a project due last friday that HAS to be done tomorrow morning. my brain will not let me work on the more important assignment bc if i do im never gonna end up finishing all these bell because TODAY IS THE DAY TO DO THEM!!!! >:(((((

[beeseverywhen]

I mean like. Not to bring the mood down but... you guys know that's because American media is everywhere right? Like the world is unable to avoid some version of American accent on a regular basis. Of course ppl find it easy to mimic. This is absolutely not restricted to ppl in the UK, its really common for ppl who learn English as a foreign language to have perfect 'American actor' accents (cause the reason everyone's so good at the American accent that's expected of them as actors is cause at large there's little distinction between regions in the 'Hollywood accent' that ends up on TV and films and stuff. You guys have massive regional differences in pronounceation, but what makes it on to TV (in 9/10 cases) is a very standardised version of American English.)

But yeah. It's not just actors lol. Most British ppl can speak in a passable american accent, as can loads and loads of people worldwide. I'm not saying this to be like 'you should feel guilty! 😡' but it does always stun me when Americans are unaware of the impact their country has worldwide on all versions of English (and even on use of native languages. Many countries are using English more and more over their native languages and dialects , and yeah, historical colonialism has had an impact there.)

But in the last few decades things have progressed way way faster and that, is thanks to the impact of anglo/american/ect lead capitalism. I'm in no way dismissing the impact the UK has on this, but in recent years, its the US that is largely pushing that train .While the UK and several English speaking commonwealth countries are very involved in this kind of capitalist imperialism, there's a reason that more and more people are speaking American English. Not one of the many UK dialects, not Australian English, or NZ English. Across the world more and more people are increasingly speaking in the same standardised american dialect that's in so much of the media you export. Hollywood based media, with that standardised accent/ dialect and the standardised 'normal american life', has a stranglehold on the world and I just find it crazy that a lot of you guys don't even know.

It's stupid stuff like. So many countries are importing american cars and are widening their roads/ changing town planning to account for it (this is less of a thing in the UK but I see it more and more when I travel). Its the food becoming avaliable everywhere. Its the influence that for profit healthcare has even on countries with socialised health systems. Its houses being built to account for American style appliances. Fashion trends. Worldwide, everything is slowly evolving to be closer and closer to this 'American standard' which honestly? I really don't think actually represents the lives of real American people either. You've been turned in to products, the system has taken an unrealistic snapshot of 'American life' and it's being sold to you all day in day out, but it's also being sold to the rest of us. It's being pushed on us all.

Kids in the UK go through phases of talking only in American accents. Anyone born later than the 90s is carrying round 2 sets of spelling and vocab, cause we're all so used to the American way, that you barely know which one you're using half of the time. In the UK we have always had really strong regional accents yeah, and dialects differ between areas that seem tiny to you guys, I know. But like. Those dialects are being lost cause all UK accents are evolving to become closer to this standardised american and yeah not great, but at least we share a language! US American society is largely rooted in the same foundations as UK society, largely we have the same flaws! But oh my god. What about the rest of the world.

It's global. This impact continues to be seen, steamrollering ahead, in places that had completely different starting points. UK culture isn't that dissimilar to that of the US, so we aren't losing nearly as much as cultures that had something completely different. So much is being lost.

Languages and dialects and everything else is just being wallpapered over so we all meet the same ideal of the 'American life' and it's not even real! It's just a product based on how ppl were actually living in the US, manipulated until it's the most marketable mould. You guys are victims of it as well but like. It's based on your culture so you don't lose as much if you conform to it. Just like how in the UK, if we conform, we lose more than US, but nowhere near as much as countries that had languages, dialects and cultures that were so so different to UK/US culture. The less like the US, your starting point, the more there is to lose.

And look. I said it to start with. I'm not having a go. That's not what this is. But you guys really need to be aware, you need to make an effort to understand the impact that this plastic Hollywood american culture is having on the rest of the world. You need to actively look for it, and make an effort to not pay in to it. Because when Americans see other cultures represented in media and say its not relatable, when you guys go on holiday and make no effort to learn local customs, and try and pay in dollars and spend your time abroad like you're still in America, when you see cultural differences and immediately argue that the American way is better and of course everyone should have giant cars and never dry laundry outdoors and live in American style homes, without any kind of critical thought. Just 'this is how we do it so why wouldn't everyone else do it this way. This is the only way. The American way is obviously best.' When you guys do that you are individually feeding in to this absolute bulldozing of cultures (including American ones!) to allow for better marketability.

It isn't any one individual American citizens fault that things are the way they are, and you guys are victims of the same system, but you need to have some self awareness when it comes to the fact that as individuals you are unknowingly, helping driving this forwards and as individuals, there are things you can do to limit your personal impact (and no arguing that you have no culture is not it!!! Being all self deprecating doesn't do shit. Take some responsibility and accept that individual Americans didn't create this system, but currently, individual Americans really are doing their bit to keep promoting it, to keep pushing it on the rest of the world.

And I've already rambled for an age so I'll stop here but I just want to make clear as an ending note here, that this really isn't about piling on Americans and being all 'boo it's all America's fault. They should apologise. Their culture isn't worth anything.' Not at all this is the opposite of that. The fact that millions of Americans have been convinced you have no culture, all while a mimicry of American culture is plastered on to the rest of the world, and while you as individuals are encouraged to help that happen, often without even realising what you're doing; is a crime. You've been wronged, as have we all.

And America is not the problem. The problem is imperialism and it didn't start with you guys. It started in Europe, and Europeans, particularly British ppl, have a responsibility to push back and be self aware, take some fucking responsibility and not inadvertently keep feeding in to that system, just as you guys do. The US didn't start the fire, imperialist capitalism is a fire that started burning long before the United States was even considered, but its on all of us, to do what we can to not feed that fire. And right now? You guys are the face of it.

This idea of what America is, is the face of imperialistic capitalism, and that means that even if you don't mean to, you guys are feeding that fire more so than the rest of us. You're responsible for spreading it, more so than the rest of us. And if you don't step up and take responsibility, accept that you're gonna get it wrong sometimes and you need to try to do better; if we don't all do that. There will be nothing left. They'll paper over it all, the lives of real Americans just as much as those in Scotland and India and the Netherlands, and 100 other cultures, that are at risk, thanks to this fire, that's currently, largely coming from America.

So yeah. It's absolutely not just on you guys and ppl who act like there's no racism or wealth divide in Europe or anywhere else for that matter are complete idiots, however, this Americanisation of the world (and I hesitate to call it that. Because its not a representation of real American lives. Its simply wearing an American face.) Its real. It's happening.

And we don't tell you about it to make you feel guilty (those of us who aren't dicks at least) ,we are telling you. We are kicking up a fuss. Because it isn't fair. It's not right and while individual Americans ignore that and refuse to take responsibility where they can (small apples. We aren't asking for you to call a violent revolution in our names. Just take some time to learn about the rest of the world. Stop assuming America is always right and examine your biases. When you find them. Stop personally pushing them.) , while that is happening, as individuals, you are contributing to this. It's not even altruism. This system is hurting Americans too. It's hurting us all. All we ask is that you do what you can to not personally contribute, and keep an open mind, be aware. That's all any of us can do.

when a british actor does an american accent everyone’s like “i didn’t even know they were british until they were on colbert.” but when americans do a british accent everyone’s like “they’re supposed to be from east cocksford but their glottal e’s are north dicksford. shameful.”

[jxsterr]

something crazy that’s just crossed my mind is the whole thing of does zelda miss link while she’s stuck in the past? i know the memories don’t do shit all justice to tell us ANYTHING about zelda’s feelings on this whole situation but it does make you wonder. i personally think she misses him like he’s dead

because imagine this. you’ve been trapped in stasis for literally a century. you’ve watched all of your friends and family die. then your knight, the one you watched die in your arms, finally comes back and frees you. you then move into a small house together, it’s not much but it’s honest living. you spruce it up with decorations until you can both stand back and say, “yeah, this feels like home.” you live the next year or so quaintly, travelling around hyrule to restore it to its former glory as best as you can, all within the company of someone you hold closer than a best friend. he’s still there, even though he doesn’t have to be, and follows you ever loyally. you wonder if he’ll ever go his own way, but his insistence on remaining by your side makes you think otherwise.

you believe in the strength of learning, that the children of hyrule need to be better educated in order to solidify a strong future for the kingdom, so you build a school. you hire teachers and organise the school’s curriculum, taking part so much that you become a teacher yourself. he greets you every evening when you come home and plates up dinner already piping hot so you don’t have to worry about it. life continues this way, simple and non exhaustive, living earnestly beside someone who would extinguish the sun if it meant you’d smile. you love him, realistically, and he loves you too.

something stirs under the castle and, like the good princess you are, you go trundling into the depths below with your loyal knight to solve the problem. it bears endless discoveries, things you know you’ll stay up all night studying; things that bring you so much joy that he holds your torch so you can enjoy it without interruption. instead of the torch, he’s soon holding a shattered blade in his bloody hand, arm eaten and burnt raw by something that smells so vile it’s all you can do not to vomit. you watch the world fall into peril once more, and as you do so, you feel yourself falling to the exact same fate. you see the way he throws away legend and jumps after you, knowing that he is also falling to his demise. you see the fear in his eyes, the way tears cling to the corners of them and feel the burn of your own.

his plan was always to die by your side, and he will do it by any means necessary.

you wake up and he’s gone, your world is gone, and you’re somewhere new. two strange people greet you and quickly take you under their wing, and while a new world means endless discoveries, you can’t help but wonder if link is dead. did he kill himself alongside you, only for you to somehow survive and let him fall alone? the thought makes the bile creep up your throat.

who’s to say that, during the period of time where link is unconscious, she isn’t wracked with guilt at the realisation that he may be dead? she’s thousands upon thousands of years in the past, and his body may be the only one laid cold at the bottom of that chasm. would people even remember him? yes, he was the hero of hyrule, but he’d always kept a low profile. humble to a fault, she’d tell him. and the fault may be that if he’s dead, perhaps only her name would grace the lips of hyrule. the survivor’s guilt would eat her whole knowing that he’s died for her twice now.

so you can imagine her relief when she feels the pull of him and his sword. the relief when she can make her vow to him. the relief in knowing that he’s okay, somehow, and that he’s alive above everything else. but now that she knows he’s okay, what’s there left to do? well, miss him, of course. they’re inseparable and very rarely do things without the company of the other, she’s going to miss him like her right arm.

in the day she’s surrounded by people—sonia, rauru, mineru and her army of constructs, plus the rest of the people of this era of hyrule—but come the night, she’s alone. her bed lacks the warmth it used to hold, doesn’t bear the imprint of where her love has slept beside her. she’s painfully, irrefutably alone. she’ll step out onto the balcony of the castle alone and wish he was by her side, wish that she could just speak to him again even for a little while. for as long as she walks this hyrule, there is an overwhelming, gaping hole in her chest. she finds comfort in the presence of sonia, rauru and mineru but there’s only so much they can do. she talks to sonia about him. she talks to rauru about him. she talks to mineru about him. anyone who will listen to her speak of her talented hero, she will talk to.

she rides a construct and thinks of him. a steward construct explains to her the biodiversity of the land and she thinks of him. she spends her nights at her desk, quill in hand and illuminated by candlelight, and writes in her diary as if she’s speaking to him. it cuts her open over and over with every day she has to wake up alone.

when she decides the only thing fate has left in store for her is to become a dragon to aid link in the future, she weeps for days on end. she knows that this is it, everything she’s ever known will be beyond her forever now. she lives on in the skies, but her soul dies here. all those years they spent together building a life together, growing, all for nothing. they were cursed from the very beginning. ever since they fell to the calamity the first time fate has had it out for them. and so her last thoughts while she can still think are of him. she prays for his safety, for his success, and for him to have a happy and long life without her. she weeps knowing she’ll never grow old with him or get to experience the revival of her kingdom. it tears her from the inside out, and she screams even as a dragon at the loss. it’s overwhelming, devastating beyond any weight words could hold. she’s lost everything, lost everyone, and lost herself. she was doomed from the beginning. she was never meant to be happy.

so yes, the ending of totk should’ve been a HELL of a lot more emotionally charged. seeing someone you thought was dead AND that you worried you’d never see again?? she’d be crying for hours in his arms

[llondonfog]

Briar Valley's Education System

"I learned all of this in middle school. Briar Valley is superior even in its educational curriculum."

I haven't been able to get this line from Sebek's Lab SR out of my head for the past day, and now you all get to hear about it.

I. The Students

Sometimes I wonder if the following is a plot hole, a 'lost in translation' effect, or if we're deliberately being fed unreliable information and Ch.7 will finally reveal the missing pieces— but how on earth is there a middle school in Briar Valley if Silver and Sebek were the only two children of their generation?

Perhaps I'm taking the terms 'middle school' and 'generation' too literally, but it doesn't make sense to me when we know that Sebek has siblings, wouldn't they have been considered the same generation as him? (The only other possible explanation I can think of is if his siblings are fae, thus potentially much older, and he was the only child from his mother/human father, but I'm not sure if that's already been disproven— someone correct me if so!)

I guess it's possible that Sebek could have been privately tutored or still attended a 'school'-like setting with a private instructor, but the real point I'm striving towards is that there was a supposed public institution for education, and Lilia deliberately did not send Silver off to attend as we know that Silver was homeschooled— why? Wouldn't he have wanted Silver to engage with children his own age, even if that was only Sebek? Which of course, raises more questions to me in particular about what is the real state of how humans are treated in Briar Valley?

II. 'Superior' Curriculum

This phrasing got a chuckle out of me especially with the current Scalding Sands event. I understand that at every opportunity, Sebek will find a way to extol the virtues of his culture and kingdom, but Briar Valley is actually so far behind in its understanding of the world around them. We know from Malleus' lines in the event and in his card that what he believes to be true about the Scalding Sands is information that is practically decades, if not centuries, old. I'll reiterate from a previous post, but it is astounding to me that Malleus is allowed to represent his country with misinformation that could make him look foolish to other nation representatives— however, that's not his fault, but a byproduct of the fact that Briar Valley is so insular despite having such tensions with their neighboring human nations. One would think that they'd be keeping tabs on what the humans are up to, but it's rather strange that they're not after such bloody history.

So, is their curriculum actually superior if it doesn't even teach the most up to date information about the current events in Twisted Wonderland? I'd hardly say yes, especially when being aware of what's going on around you, particularly for those in leadership positions, is of utmost importance. Again, I just wonder if these views of 'superiority' are ones held mostly by Sebek as he tries to navigate his identity, or are still widely held by the fae population of Briar Valley? Is that why Lilia isolated himself with Silver to educate and train him away from judgmental fae eyes?

There's just a lot of underlying tension I think that can be seen in many of the Diasomnia voice lines that make me wonder what life is truly like in Briar Valley, and if we'll ever get to see it through a human perspective.

[elfryn]

Commission to Clyn. Title: Once in a Moon. Request: Drunken confession, Larissa finds out and happy ending. Words: 5648. Ratings/Warnings: General Audiences/No Archive Warnings Apply. Relationships: Marilyn Thornhill | Laurel Gates/Larissa Weems. Summary: She feels a lump in her throat, a heaviness in her stomach, and discomfort in her eyes. Larissa is using all her strength not to scream, not to cry, yet, as the other's diminutive figure seems even smaller and more fragile cowering in the centre of her bed, it makes everything difficult. Silently, Larissa Weems wishes she could go back to before, when she was still ignorant, to a time when she did not know the sleeping being in front of her. She wishes she could go back to the days long gone when she had yet to lose her heart to Laurel Gates. Links: ao3, tips! Commissions info here!

“Why do you want to work at Nevermore, Mrs. Thornhill?" Larissa uses her most professional voice. 

“Miss," the redhead corrects. “Nevermore is one of the best schools in the country and I..." she proceeds to say a decorated speech. Larissa is well aware of her school's reputation, both the good and the bad, she doesn't need people to remind her of that. Weems admits that she has stopped paying attention between one word and another. After several boring interviews, it is normal to lose interest past a certain point. Everything she needs to know about the candidates is in the curriculums anyway. She studies the resume she has in hand. Exceptional track record, flowery references, no complaints or disgusted notes.

On paper, Marilyn Thornhill looks practically perfect in every way. 

“And what did you say your skill is?" Not that it will change her final decision at all, but Weems likes to keep track of what kind of person she's dealing with. 

“I didn't say," Thornhill smiles yellow, almost nervously, “I don't have one," she reveals. This catches Larissa's attention as she carries her gaze to her with a quickness that makes her dizzy.

“Are you a normie?" Larissa thinks she's put too much poison in the word, considering how Marilyn shrinks back in her chair. “Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you." 

“No, it's okay, that's kind of my fault for omitting information." Again with the fake smile and nervousness.

“It's not like you're obligated to put that on your resume," the blonde tries to soften the damage she's caused. Weems looks at Marilyn and notices her, really notices her. The long red hair, the fringes married to the giant glasses that help hide her face, the simple clothes and nothing flashy. She looks like a low-budget red-headed version of some Zooey Deschanel character. There is absolutely nothing over-the-top about her. Marilyn Thornhill is ordinary, forgettable. One of those people who stand in the back of the room and nobody notices, as if they have a perception filter over them, deflecting away all eyes. Had Larissa not known better, she would never have married Marilyn Thornhill's resume to the person of Marilyn Thornhill. “Why do you want to work here?" Larissa asks again, this time genuinely interested. 

Marilyn holds Weems' gaze, defiant. “I used to live in Jericho years ago as a child. I observed first-hand how the townspeople treated Nevermore students. Even as a kid, the aloofness, anger and ostracism never felt right to me.

“When my family left, I thought it would be different, better, however, the sad reality is that the situation away from these walls, from this town, manages to be infinitely worse. Admittedly, the citizens of Jericho are not receptive and can even cause problems for the institution and its students. However, the young people who inhabit these dark halls are not alone in the world, and as long as they have someone like you, Principal Weems, to pray for them, they are safe.

“Which, disgracefully, cannot be said about thousands of people who have their lives cowardly cut short just for being different. Like..." She interrupts herself, her eyes glistening with tears that she refuses to let fall. Taking a deep breath, Thornhill continues, “My reason for wanting to work at this very prestigious institution is not because of professional relevance, the fat salary or anything else. I stand before you today out of an extremely selfish personal desire, just that and nothing more."

“What would that be?" 

“I want to protect those children, or at least try to." All the redhead's nervousness and discomfort are washed away, and suddenly Marilyn Thornhill no longer looks like someone dull who is lost in the landscape. She emanates a glow of her own, capable of blinding anyone who dares to look at her directly. The shy woman at the beginning of the interview and the woman who gave the touching speech are two completely different people. Larissa gets a glimpse of something she can't name but wants to see again. “I know I'm not much and that it's very preposterous to think that some random person with no powers can achieve something so great, or even that you need the help of someone like me, but if I can do anything to help, I need to try. 

“That, Larissa Weems, is the real reason I want to work at your school."

**

Weems searches Thornhill around the room with her eyes, knowing exactly where the woman will be. The months following Marilyn's hiring have passed smoothly, and the school year follows its routine cycle without end. The students keep on giving work to the same extent as in all the other years, the faculty goes on as usual. As far as the eye can see, everything is normal, everything is fine. However, Larissa is neither stupid nor ignorant, she knows how to look beyond appearances, beyond the surface. She notices how the botany teacher has a little more difficulty in her classes than the other teachers, she perceives how the shorter one is almost always isolated in the corner and on the rare occasions she saw her talking to a student or another teacher it was for something related to her classes. 

In staff meetings, Thornhill is in the corner, standing by the wall, blending into the environment. In those situations, she is only noticed by those who are looking for her, otherwise, it is as if no one is there. Weems remembers her first impression of her, of finding her ordinary, forgettable. She also remembers her words, her heart-warming speech and the small glimpse of something magical she saw that day.

“Miss Thornhill," the headmistress calls out once the meeting is over and the room begins to empty, “will you come with me? There is something I need to discuss with you." 

“Of course," she agrees with a shy smile. 

The walk to Weems' office never seemed so long, the atmosphere between the two similar to a burial. Corridor after corridor, Weems feels the prying eyes on them, students and staff who are probably thinking the teacher is in some kind of pickle. Glancing around, she notices a smile here and a giggle there. Something uncomfortable stirs inside her, but the tall woman just ignores it. 

“Am I in trouble?” Thornhill asks once they reach the blonde's office. She sounds like a child afraid of being scolded. 

“I don't know, do you have reason to be in trouble, miss?” Weems heads straight for the bar, she studies her options carefully. Checking the hours, she sighs defeatedly. “Tea?” She offers, smiling. 

“Yes?”

“Are you accepting the tea or admitting you committed a crime?" the Principal asks, amused. “You don't have to be nervous.”

“Are you sure? Because I kind of feel like I should be terrified.”

“Yeah, I'm sure.” She assures. “Please sit down,” she indicates one of the armchairs near the fireplace. Looking a little more relaxed, yet still nervous, Thornhill accepts the invitation to sit down. Between heating water in the electric kettle and choosing tea, they fall into an almost comfortable silence. Weems feels the redhead's eyes following her every move. 

“I was about to ask you that before, but I didn't find an opportunity,” the blonde breaks the silence. “How have you been? Is your adjustment going well?”

Thornhill doesn't answer immediately. For a moment she looks confused, surprised by the question, then her countenance changes to thoughtful. “Everything is fine,” she answers finally. 

“Are you sure?" She insists. Weems put a few spoonfuls of tea leaves into a previously scalded French press, then pours the water in circular motions until the container is almost full. “You can tell me if something's not going well, you know that, don't you? Whether it's a student causing too much trouble or some inside difficulty, you can tell me anything.”

“I appreciate the concern, but it's not necessary," she assures. “Everything is fine.”

The headmistress turns to face the teacher, her concern stamped in her eyes. Weems needs to know if everything really is fine or if the woman is just being strong. Larissa cares about her staff as much as she cares about her students. Everything and everyone related to this school is important to her (admittedly, some more than others). She analyses the little redhead, looking for anything that would give away the lie in her words, however, she finds nothing. 

“Either she's a great actress and a first-rate liar or she's telling the truth,” the blonde thinks to herself. 

“Well,” the woman settles for saying. She approaches Thornhill, bringing with her a tray with the French press, two mugs and other things she needs to serve the tea. Depositing the tray on the small coffee table between the two armchairs, she sets about serving. “Sugar or honey?”

“Sugar.” Weems hands the cup with the blue liquid lightly sweetened with a sugar cube to Thornhill, who takes a sip of the drink before adding another four sugar cubes. “What?” she asks innocently when she notices how Larissa stares at her.

“You're a criminal,” the blonde replies. 

“Pardon?”

“There is no pardon for someone who puts five sugar cubes in their tea.”

“I like sweet things,” the redhead defends herself. 

“That's not sweet, that's diabetes in a cup,” she jokes. “Next time, I'll offer you just the sugar cubes right away.”

“Do so, and I'll gladly accept,” Marilyn replies with a smile.

**

Larissa tries to steal some of Marilyn's popcorn once hers is finished. They are in the headmistress' quarters, watching a film of dubious quality that the teacher has chosen. It's about a brain that won't die, however, Larissa believes the title is misleading as it's about a whole head and not just the brain. She also thinks the film is nonsensical, more than once she has commented on how a head cannot remain not only alive but also conscious without a body. In Weems' opinion, the brain surviving alone would make much more sense than the whole head. Thornhill just told her to be quiet and watch the film, which she did, even though she is itching to point out every absurd thing happening on the screen. Larissa doesn't know why she still lets Marilyn pick the movies, it's more than proven that the redhead has terrible taste in movies. The week before she picked a movie about a wormy woman, and the week before that she made the blonde watch Attack of the Killer Tomatoes, because, according to her, the fact that Larissa had never seen the movie until then was a crime. 

Weems lets her eyes wander from the screen to the person sitting next to her. Marilyn is sitting with her legs folded under her on the sofa, the bucket of popcorn, her inseparable companion, resting on her lap, her eyes glued to the screen, she hardly blinks, absolutely engrossed in the plot. She wears grey sweatpants and a pastel pink shirt with a kitten on it, her hair tied up in messy braids and her glasses forgotten on the coffee table. Larissa can't help but notice how Marilyn seems to belong in the room as if she's the person who actually lives there. 

“You're staring at me again,” Thornhill says, and only then does Larissa realize that the film is over. 

“No, I'm not.” She doesn't even bother to stop staring. 

“Yes, you are!”

“I'm not, but if I was, you can't blame me if you're so much more interesting than these bad movies you pick.”

“My movies aren't bad.” 

“Oh, but they are, honey. They're terrible.”

“If you think the movies I pick are so bad, why do you keep letting me pick the movies?”

“Because you look very pretty while you're watching bad movies, and I like that very much.” Marilyn stares at Weems wide-eyed in surprise for half a second before quickly turning her face away. 

“Idiot,” the redhead says in a low voice. Larissa can see the slight blush on her cheeks and can't help but smile.

**

They walk side by side through the city streets, their fingers intertwined and their shoulders rubbing lightly with each step. It is their first official date outside of school since until then they have reserved themselves for movie nights of dubious quality, idle Wednesdays drinking fancy teas, and one particularly disastrous Friday when Larissa decided to cook and ended up exploding the casserole (in her defence, Marilyn said the sauce was fine, even if it was sticking to the wall). 

Marilyn talks about her passion for carnivorous and poisonous plants, the main reason she chose botany in the first place, citing some of the types they have at the Nevermore Conservatory. Weems listens intently, confused by all the scientific names that the little woman throws at her — the principal's knowledge of botany is limited to which plants she can make tea with. There aren't many people on the street, but the few they do meet give them a tail-eyed stare, with each new encounter, Larissa feels she's very close to punching someone. Realizing this, Thornhill gently squeezes her hand, calming her down and telling her it's all right. 

When a group of teenagers dressed as pilgrims approach them, laughing and pointing brazenly, Larissa moves towards them, but Marilyn pulls her to the other side. 

“This way, I know a shortcut.”

“This isn't a shortcut,” the blonde says, acknowledging where they are. “This is the opposite of a shortcut, it will take us at least another half hour to get to the school grounds.”

“Good,” the teacher smiles, "so I have you all to myself for another half hour.”

Larissa feels her ears burn and the blood rises to her cheeks, she thanks the moonless night for hiding the blush that she is sure has taken over her face (mentally, she imagines her head being replaced by a tomato). She slips her arm around Marilyn's shoulder, who in turn slips her arm around Weems' waist. And so they continued walking, in each other's arms, to the gates of Nevermore. 

**

Weems wakes up with a sound similar to a cry. Marilyn is curled up on her side of the bed, looking even smaller than usual, her eyes closed, her fists clenched, her countenance contorted in pain. Lightly bathed in the moonlight streaming through the half-closed curtains, she looks like a wounded animal.

“Mar...” Larissa calls out, concerned. “Marilyn!” She shakes the woman when she gets no answer. 

Marilyn wakes up in a jump, frightened and bewildered, she attacks Weems, her hands going straight for the woman's neck. Larissa doesn't move, doesn't fight back, just waits until the mist in the redhead's eyes dissipates and she understands where she is and what is happening, which doesn't take long. Quickly, Thornhill pulls her hands back and turns away from Larissa, terrified by her actions. 

“I'm sorry,” she asks in a low, weak voice. Larissa hates it when she uses that voice. Throughout their time together, the blonde has noticed that Marilyn has a lot of nightmares. Occasionally, they tend to get worse, as if they have a seasonal trigger that makes everything go downhill. A trigger that Larissa has yet to figure out what it is to protect Marilyn from it. 

“It's okay,” Weems says hoarsely. She smiles, trying to lessen the weight of the situation. They fall silent, feeling the atmosphere weigh on them. “You... you were calling for your brother...” Larissa says small, uncertain. Marilyn rarely talks about her nightmares, and Larissa respects that, though she thinks talking about it might help her. “I didn't know you had a brother."

“I don't!” She bites, her voice a thunderclap in the night. Marilyn's harsh words echo acidly in the darkness. The silence that consumes them this time is heavier, more suffocating. Larissa feels guilty, the small voice in the back of her mind telling her that she messed up. Screaming that she should have stayed quiet like all the other times. She falls into a spiral of self-deprecating thoughts. “Not anymore...” Marilyn's voice is so low that Larissa almost doesn't realize she's said anything. 

“I... I'm sorry for bringing it up.”

“It's okay, I know you were concerned... and curious.” Marilyn shakes her head. She attempts a smile, but she has no strength or will, all she can manage is the shadow of something listless, lifeless. “It's just that I don't usually talk about my brother.”

“And you don't have to if you don't want to.”

“But I want to!” It's a cry for help. "I want to...”

“And I want to listen.” 

For a third time, silence devours them. The anticipation of what Marilyn is going to say fills the air with statistics. Weems holds her hands and squeezes them lightly in a comforting gesture. Assuring her that it is safe to continue, safe to share whatever it is with her. 

“My brother was an amazing person..." she begins, her voice so low and yet so high at the same time. “I followed him everywhere, his friends used to say I was his second shadow, and even though he was ten years older, he never treated me like the annoying little sister... I love... loved him so much... He was my best friend and the best person in the world, and he... He was taken from me...” Marilyn's voice dies. She feels Larissa wiping away her tears, and only then does she realize she is crying. Larissa hugs her and lets her girlfriend cry on her chest, she uses one of her hands to draw imaginary patterns on the redhead's back, something she knows calms her. When Marilyn finally stops crying, the first rays of sunlight can be seen through the window. 

“Do you want to get up and get ready, or call in and say you're sick?” Larissa asks. 

“Call who? You're my boss.”

“It's going to be a strange call, but I think I can convince myself to give us the day off.”

“ʽUsʼ?”

“If you're going to stay home and eat ice cream all day, so am I.”

**

Larissa walks through the green maze that is the corridors of the conservatory. Marilyn has missed another staff meeting. Although Weems is mature enough to admit that a part of her is relieved not to have to spend three hours locked in a room with her ex-girlfriend and all the other teachers looking at her funny, she's still the principal and Thornhill is still a teacher who needs to shoulder her responsibilities. 

Aisle after aisle, the blonde makes her way to the farthest and most private part of the room. It has been a few weeks since she and Marilyn broke up, or rather, since the other woman ended it all with no explanation or apparent reason. Larissa still feels sad, empty and bitter, and potentially angry. She let the redhead have her time, and her space and waited for her to come back on her decision to break up, but it didn't happen. To make matters worse, Marilyn's performance has declined greatly, causing even more friction in the relationship between the two, who meet only to have the headmistress scold her. 

Larissa goes over the conversation she intends to have with Thornhill in her head again, she needs things to work out. She doesn't want to keep fighting with the redhead every time they see each other. Marilyn was the best thing that ever happened to Weems, and if the redhead no longer wants to be her girlfriend, she understands and hopes that they can at least be friends — because Larissa can't go back to an empty and insignificant life where Marilyn Thornhill isn't part of it. The blonde takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She needs everything to work out, or at least not be a total disaster. The principal still feels bad about her last encounter with the teacher, where a professional discussion turned into a person and she said things that weren't true just to hurt Marilyn as her anger and frustration got the better of her. Larissa has not seen Marilyn since that day. 

Turning down the last corridor, the scene Larissa encounters makes all her speech disappear from her mind in a matter of seconds. Marilyn is lying on the floor, liquor bottles were thrown around her, and a syringe with a blue liquid is near her hand. Larissa feels desperation grow in her chest, and she screams the woman's name, or so she thinks she does, but she couldn't tell since she can't hear her voice. She shakes the small body, looking for signs of life, takes her in her arms and runs out. At some point, someone appears and she believes she has given orders for the doctor to be sent to her quarters, for when she reaches her room with Marilyn in her arms, the middle-aged woman in charge of the infirmary is waiting for her at the door. 

“She's fine,” the doctor says after what seemed an eternity to Weems. 

“What do you mean ‘she's fineʼ, she's unconscious!” Larissa screams. She feels bad about that, but she can't afford to care at the moment. “There was a syringe on the side of her body! She tried to kill herself!”

“She has no sting marks, so I don't believe the syringe was for that.” The doctor says calmly, used to dealing with people on the edge of their emotions. “She drank a bit too much and ended up sleeping halfway through whatever she was working on.”

“She's just sleeping?” She asks, discredited and relieved. 

“Exactly.”

“I'm going to kill her.”

**

When Marilyn wakes up, Larissa barely gives her time to find her way around before saying that they need to talk. 

“We don't need anything.” The redhead replies dryly and dismissively. Larissa feels terrible for being used to this kind of hostility coming from the woman. Precariously and keeping herself upright by some miracle, Marilyn stands up and begins to walk towards the exit. Weems is faster than her and uses her body to barricade the door. 

“You're not going anywhere until you talk to me.”

“Is that an order from my superior?”

“It's a friend's request.”

“We're not friends,” she yells. 

“No, we are more than that, but you for some reason decided to ignore that fact and start acting like you don't know me!" Larissa returns in the same tone. She doesn't like shouting, even less so when the other person is not in a good place, however, she can't keep it all bottled up inside anymore. Weems knew she would explode one time or another and it seems that time has come. 

“If that's not an order, then I don't need to answer." Thornhill ignores Larissa's words. She tries to walk past the blonde, but the woman's tall body doesn't even move. Right now, she is like a stake fixed into the ground with concrete. 

“Please, can't you see that I'm trying here?”

“I didn't ask you to try,” she hisses. 

“That's the point, you don't have to ask!” Exasperates. “I'm trying hard to give you the space you need to sort your shit out, but every second you seem more distant and lost and it's hurting you and me. To make it worse, I found you lying on the conservatory floor with a syringe full of poison thrown beside you. I thought... 

“I thought you were dead... I thought I'd lost you again, only now for good.” Her voice is choked with emotion. “I can't go on like this anymore, I can't go on watching you sink deeper and deeper. When you give someone too much rope, they end up hanging themselves and I'm not going to lose you. Not like this.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I love you, you moron! That's why I care!”

“Don't say that.”

“I. Love. You. And no matter how hard you try to push me away, my feelings for you won't change.”

“You can't love me.” Marilyn sounds like a hurt and frightened child. 

“Why not?”

“Because you don't know me!" She screams with tears in her eyes. “My past, the things I've done, the things I plan to do. The real reason I came to this school in the first place. You know absolutely nothing about me, that's why you can't love me. Because if you knew anything, you would hate me...”

“I could never hate you, Marilyn.”

“I am not Marilyn! My name is Laurel. I'm Garrett Gates' sister! And I hate you. You and all these freaks in this goddamn school. Every student, every teacher, every outcast, I hate them all.” Her eyes burn with the tears she refuses to let fall. “Your kind is the reason my brother is dead. The reason I lost my entire family, and because of that I want all of you destroyed, dead! Every freak, every abnormal, every outcast, you all deserve death. All of you. 

“Or at least I thought it should be that way until you showed up...” Between the few stubborn tears that managed to escape, she gives a sad, pained smile. “You who are so serious and yet kind and cheerful and perfect. You lured me in with your warm smiles and fancy teas and soft laughter and beautiful personality. What mortal could resist the charms of Larissa Weems? None, I tell you. Before I could do anything to stop it, I caught myself completely in love with you. My revenge no longer mattered as long as I could be with you. But...

“Every time you call me Marilyn, I feel my heart being torn apart. All the things you say you love about me are lies. You love a lie. That's why you can't love me, Larissa. Marilyn Thornhill, the person you love, it's not me. So, I'm the one who's begging you now, because I can't keep pretending to be someone I'm not anymore, and more importantly, I can't keep hurting you any longer. Please, let me go.”

Weems doesn't understand what is going on. She knows that she has heard everything that Mar-- Laurel has said. She feels a suffocating pain in her chest, the air, or lack of it in this case. Her head feels heavy, and she is sure she is crying, and even though everything indicates that Larissa is just seconds away from falling, it is not her body that crashes dramatically onto the ground. 

**

Larissa watches over the sleeping woman in her bed. The small body curled up into a ball, her face swollen from crying. She wants to hold her in her arms and protect her from the rest of the world, to promise that everything will be all right and nothing and no one will ever hurt her again. However, she can do neither, so, with a tightness in her chest, she settles for slowly brushing her fingers across the woman's soft skin, up her exposed arms and into the fair redhead's relaxed face, taking the opportunity to brush a strand of hair from her face.

She feels a lump in her throat, a heaviness in her stomach, and discomfort in her eyes. Larissa is using all her strength not to scream, not to cry, yet, as the other's diminutive figure seems even smaller and more fragile cowering in the centre of her bed, it makes everything difficult. 

Silently, Larissa Weems wishes she could go back to before, when she was still ignorant, to a time when she did not know the sleeping being in front of her. She wishes she could go back to the days long gone when she had yet to lose her heart to Laurel Gates. 

**

In the morning, Larissa wakes up in her empty bed. It doesn't take long for her to discover that Marilyn, Laurel, or whatever the redhead's name is, has left the school in the dead of night. Weems notices the stares at her, the tension of the questions that no one dares to ask, she ignores everything and everyone. She ignores her feelings and the desire to scream that grows inside her chest. The redhead's words echoed in her ears, burning in her mind, repeating endlessly. She knows that everything that was said is true, Laurel's hatred was perceptible in each of her words, dripping like venom. Larissa cannot understand how Marilyn, so sweet and kind, could be Laurel, so bitter and sick. However, thinking about it wouldn't change anything, because Laurel ran away and took Marilyn with her, and that's the part Larissa can't forgive. 

**

When the police show up asking questions and hinting that the botany teacher had a connection to the strange deaths that had been happening in the woods on the edge of town, Weems said nothing beyond what was public knowledge (or the public imagination).

“Yes, we had a relationship,” she replies coldly. “No, I don't know anything about the possibility of her being a serial killer,” she thus ends the interview, practically throwing the sheriff out of her office. 

**

Larissa walks around the old cottage, opening the windows and airing out the place. She still remembers the last time she visited her family's cottage. Of the picnic, she and her mother had near the lake, the boat rides with her father, and how her brothers fought over the last s'more around the campfire. The old Weems Family Cottage was once a place of great joy, but now, it is just a pile of rotten wood falling to pieces. 

Since her mother passed away almost ten years ago, neither Larissa nor her brothers, nor her father has dared to set foot near the place. All the good memories created in this place have been transformed into daggers that pierce the soul overnight. The blonde walks slowly and carefully through the place, parts of the floorboards look like they will give way at any moment. She wonders how she let herself be dragged to that place, but now that she was there, she had no reason to dwell on her life choices. 

She sees her mother at the kitchen island cutting vegetables. Her father is by the fireplace reading the newspaper. She hears her brothers' footsteps running upstairs. Between one memory and another, she finds herself making a list of everything that needs to be fixed or replaced, or demolished. Immersed in nostalgia, in pain and longing, she hardly hears the knocks on the door. 

As she opens the door, she is confronted with the reason she is there, to begin with. Laurel Gates, better known as Marilyn Thornhill, stares at her uncertainly.

“Hi...” her voice is only a whisper. 

“What took you so long?” Larissa asks with a big smile that makes all of Laurel's nervousness disappear. 

“The traffic was horrible.” She replies with a smile as big as the blonde. “But I promise I'll make it up to you.”

“You can be sure of that.”

**

Larissa places her cell phone on top of the mantelpiece, and the soft melody of the music she has chosen gradually begins to fill the room. She offers her hand to the person who dragged her to that place. “Will you grant me this dance?” She asks with a smile on her face. 

“Of course.”

Weems takes Laurel in her arms, fitting her into her body. They follow the quiet rhythm of the music. Laurel rests her head on Larissa's chest, listening to the slightly accelerated heartbeat of the blonde. It is like a scene from a musical. 

The moon shines on them like a spotlight, the damp, dusty atmosphere giving way to the cozy warmth created by the fire crackling in the hearth. The feeling of detachment and strangeness slowly went away. The world around them darkens and loses focus, and all that is left is the two of them nestled in each other's arms and Neil Young's voice echoing through the air. 

“I missed you,” Larissa admits, her voice a whisper in the night. 

“I missed you too,” Laurel replies in the same tone. They continue to dance together, neither daring to say anything more, unable to break the little bubble of happiness they find themselves in. They are not naive and know they need to talk about everything, but not now. Right now, what they need is music and each other's embrace. 

As the music ends, Larissa stops and stands aside just enough to admire the woman with her. The new haircut, the spectacles with a different frame, the extra holes in her ears. Visually, so distinct from the last time the blonde had seen her, yet still the same person. Weems rubs her fingers slowly across Laurel's face, gently caressing her cheek. Laurel closes her eyes and lets herself be carried away by the touch, basking in the thrill of being touched by Larissa again. 

“I really want to kiss you.” Softly, Larissa runs her finger along the outline of Laurel's lips.

Laurel opens her eyes and stares into Larissa's deep blue eyes that flicker in the half-light of the fireplace. There is no doubt in the blonde's eyes. “Please do so.” It is a plea. 

Larissa leans in and ends the distance between them. Their first kiss after all these months apart is salted by tears that the two have not bothered to stop. Laurel's lips are the perfect match for Larissa's, just as Marilyn's were. As the kiss intensifies, Larissa feels something in her chest. She feels the hole that opened when Marilyn ran away being closed. Marilyn Thornhill may no longer be there, but Laurel Gates is, and Larissa loves her with all her being, and she will never let her disappear from her life again. 

“I love you, Laurel Gates,” Larissa utters. 

“I love you, Larissa Weems.” She replies with a smile and tears.

[glitchedsins]

I want to say in regards to folks using curseforge, supporting scummy paywallers, etc etc...

Despite the fact that we're in a tech heavy world a lot of people are still insanely ignorant of how technology works. There people who still don't really understand how to download mods or organize their folders. So its really easy for them to take the easy route even if it's scummy. The fact that people still question if they can buy a laptop or a macbook to play the sims says enough for me personally that even in this gaming era people still don't understand how gaming on pc works or pc hardware works and thats... depressing honestly? I work at a college assisting 3D animation students, and students still dont know what brand their own laptop is or what kind of hardware they're running. It's not their fault, I dont think it's anyone's fault to be ignorant of something and then live in fear due to it. But honestly to public school's fault they should seriously start considering adding computer knowledge into curriculums. It should not be only the rich that get to go to expensive coding schools that get to learn and understand how computers work.

holy shit this has taken me into another rabbithole of thought.. Anyway the main point is, don't be so brash to those who are ignorant but just try to keep spreading news and information that can be helpful to the overall cause.

Some of us figured shit out when we were younger, most of us were lucky to grow up with limewire and myspace/gaia online html coding...

[freebooter4ever]

Expanding on my slightly mean tags - after working alongside and within it for the first seven years of my career, the US educational system will forever frustrate me -_- it wasn't until i got to college and realized how far behind most of my peers were that i appreciated how good my high schoool was. And its not like my parents could have planned that - when they bought the house in 1988 there was nothing on our hill except houses, farms, and a horse ranch a few blocks down. It was pure luck that our neighborhood morphed into one of the best school districts in the state, and that my high school adopted international bacca*laureate curriculum. It was still a public school, still 100% free, but my education surpassed almost all the college friends i met who went to private and magnet schools on the east coast. Its nobody's fault if they weren't taught this level of history analysis, i just got lucky with where i grew up.

My poor friend jillybean and i were talking about this at the wedding, and how lucky we were as teenagers - growing up middle class but getting privileges most don't simply because our public school was funded by half the town being made up of multi millionaire mansions. She and her husband moved back to our home state, and she's trying to find a house with a good school district for her kids, and it's proving impossible. Our old small town that used to be half millionaires is now ALL millionaires, and nobody normal could afford even an apartment there. Literally none of my friends who grew up in the area could afford to return.

I don't want fucking charter schools and private schools, i want a damned equal education system that is truly public and isn't determined by how expensive your postal code is. And i want international standards to try to negate the United States bias we see in teaching history. And i want the stupid computer science industry to stop this elitst bullshit of pushing back against any attempts to make starting computer literacy at the earliest most inclusive age possible a common standard practice.

[afterthefeast]

so in my no good very bad terrible day i woke up feeling weirdly fatigued and depressed, missed my opticians appointment so had to reschedule after cycling there in the rain, got told i passed a job interview but they still can’t guarantee when or even if a vacancy will actually arise, got an email saying i can’t get one of my sailing qualifications converted bc the school i got it from used the rya curriculum even though its an irish sailing school (and this is, make no mistake, purely the dept of transport being petty over brexit), was gonna watch alien: resurrection but my friend cancelled (not their fault, they have to stay late at work), and as i was cycling home the chain came off and i had to cycle home after fixing it with my hands covered in oil. wtf. at least i beat raphael tho

[notafraidofredyellowandblue]

I don't know what it is about Rammstein that makes people lose all critical thinking skills, but for decades now people have been happy to take a look at them and decide that they are "bad news". And, in this, I only reference people's attitude to their performances, let alone the allegations.

It frustrates me because it makes me feel insane! Irony and satire are ignored and better sense abandoned for the sake of sensation! Rammstein are often accused of creating dumb shock just for reaction, but it is not them I see exploiting that technique right now.

The current narrative being sold makes it out as if Rammstien, and Till in particular, are some grand evil, regardless of the actual facts of the matter and despite the fact that the evil figure they've created lacks the mundanity of truth. They are human, not fuckin demons.

Actually examining the facts as we currently have them makes me conclude that this is such a non-story that perhaps these exaggerations are a compensation by the media to try and justify their harsh prejudice. Its all so ridiculous....

Anyway, I hope the investigation is done thoroughly and that the unadulterated truth will come to light. Then, final judgement can finally be passed....

I agree that for those who watch Rammstein closely, there are whole loads of nuances and twists they use that makes 'what it appears to be' different from what it actually turns out to be. The song Links 2 3 4 is for me always a great example, starting with the sound of marching boots, that many (especially in Germany) would associate with the army, and in Germany post WWII (which caused a national trauma that many still find it difficult to come to terms with imo) the leap to the right-wing German Third Reich period is quickly made, when in actual fact the song is about the band being much more 'left wing leaning, if they are political inclined at all. The same with the Deutschland video, which imo wouldn't be out of place on the curriculum of history classes in German schools 🌺

Many people nowadays don't have time or patience for the nuances Rammstein apply, and in fact i would even argue that not all fans get these.

For me (but feel free to disagree) this is also the main difference between Rammstein and the 'Till Lindemann' or 'Lindemann' projects which imo is much more crass and jn your face, without those important little twists that make Rammstein so great (but if you'd state that i just don't *get* the nuances in 'Lindemann', then i probably couldn't argue with that 🌺).

Ofcourse Rammstein are only human, with their quirks, stupidities and mistakes; actually that's what appeals to me, they don't deny their faults or make excuses (even if some fans do so on their behalf) but work through them and come out stronger on the other side.

Like you i hope that the investigation by the Berlin Public prosecutor is done thoroughly and whatever comes out can be dealt with 🌺

[rotting-creation]

I mean from personal experience I'd have to disagree. I'd say it's because the culture has remained a lot more similar to British culture than the USA has. I think it's probably because it was colonised about 100-200 years AFTER the USA, as well as not having cut ties with England (the coloniser), a key part of this is them being included in the commonwealth countries which for sake of saving time and simplicity basically means they still have ties to England in many ways to this day.

That and also the USA has a massive cultural in terms of media and movies. Most movies are from there, most shows, a lot of media in general. And other countries (less so England bc the BBC does actually a pretty good amount of shows) don't have as strong or as much of a worldwide appeal as movies from the USA. This means the USA almost exclusively consumes content from its own country. Which, if you ask me, is a pretty easy way to develop the whole "my country is the best" mentality.

Not to mention that the gov there (from what I know, fellow ppl from the USA please feel free to correct me on this) still has a decent amount of propaganda. Like singing the national anthem in school every morning or something. I don't know about your history system but where I live the school curriculum actively teaches us about government fuck ups in the recent day (see: Grenfell. Yes we learn about Grenfell and how it was fully the govs fault)

German curriculum actively focuses from a young age on things like this too as far as I know.

Also side note I forgot to mention in that post btw is the massive density of everything here in europe. Europe was made a long time ago where cars didn't exist and most people didn't own horses, meaning roads and cities had to be smaller and more walkable.

This means that compared to the USA which relies heavily on cars for most states, and where everything tends to be a lot bigger, it's very hard to fully discover everything.

The cities here are dense as shit, in my own city there's so many stores and corners and books and crannies that of course, even if something was only '20 minutes away' there's so much stuff in the middle that I'd be more interested that I'd never notice it.

Anyways this is like a bunch of word vomit on my part, feel free to correct me I'm tired as shit rn.

You shouldn’t date or become serious friends/partners with someone if you can’t stomach the thought of being stuck in a car or train with them for 16 hours.

[librea-123]

“It’s Not About English, It’s About Us”

English language is undeniably the most dominant language across the world as it is utilized as a global lingua franca. English language plays its role in bridging communication among individuals who came from different countries. The importance of English language is paramount and is evident in different proportions especially on how it succor the process of globalization, economic progress, making ties, and building a more connected world. English is conventionally part of the education’s curriculum considering how vital learning English Language in almost every field and every profession. However, inevitably it is, that the growing superiority of English language also emanates different issues which needs to be prudently featured and addressed. There are different issues emerging especially in social and identity emblem which is rooted in English. Does the English language should be seen at its fault?

English as a measurement of intellectual capacity.

            It is indubitably noticeable especially in the Philippines about how utilizing English language holds a positive impression linking to an individual’s intellectual capacity. To learn proficiently about English language and being able to become an adept speaker of it is something that’s worthy to be proud of, and this is nothing a problem but a skill-yet. By the rolling of time, English language has seen in any distance as an emblem of intelligence and a tag for an individual’s value. This may sound a harsh words to tell and hard to take a heed, but this is apparent in different places especially in school. Taking Philippines as an example, Filipino used to admire the skill of speaking English Language fluently, to regard individuals whose an expert in speaking English are labeled as smart, professional, educated and as someone that is worth respected. In the aftermath, this become a perpetrating issue in which English Language become a premise on measuring someone based on his or her capacity to speak through it. In schools, to communicate in English is also seen as a band of superiority, any student who can effortlessly communicate in English are often seen as intelligent. Through this, majority of the students feels being pressured to speak, and to become a neophyte in this language, to stutter, to mispronounce, to jumbled some grammar, to have an error in spelling, often gains mockery and this gradually degrades every student’s self-esteem.

Discrimination

            This is one of the obsolete but still emerging issues when it comes to language. Since English language has already seen as a standard of competence and intelligence in different facets especially in school, discrimination lurks in the shadow of it. Schools are the haven of diverse learners, who came from different geographies, origin, culture, and who speaks their native language. The problem now starts when English Language revolutionized students for uniformity, and the pressure to speak English intensifies through them. Some native groups, figuring groups who live in Mindanao, in which the common tag for them as individuals who have a have a very rigid and solid accent o in a Filipino common phrase “matigas ang dila”. Though, this typical impression is not an odd and unrealistic since this common observation holds a sense of truth because that is  real accent of Bisaya people, however, this impression becomes a contamination of discrimination and oppressing throw of humor. When some students who belong in the particular group, and unconsciously carries the native accent when speaking English, they are being discriminated and that English is some language that is hard to achieve in this group. Consequently, some students are too pressured to speak English, to efface their suppressed accents, and too daunted to speak in carefree without the fear of judgment.

Imbalanced English Teaching on Children

            In Philippines, as forementioned in the first two issues, English language is often seen as a standard language, a showing skin for intelligence, education and even for the social standing. The attestation cannot be denied especially if it is visibly occurring and evident in the vicinity. In today’s generation, children are now exposed in using English language in the very early age. Some parents even teach their children as if English as their first language, and even discourage the child to speak the language they born to have. Teaching a child our universal language is never a problem but to highly expose these children in English rather than their native language is somehow an act of corrupting and oppressing the child’s own identity, origin and culture. Some motives that is observable why parents do such thing, is because the pride of showing off. When the children learned English in their little age has now become a sign of competence, intelligence and skill, which doubles the pride of parents towards their child. Sometimes, this has become a ground why some parents are competing in such practice and is indeed unhealthy.

            From all of these issues, to look in every angle and in every perspective, the problem didn’t started by the existence of English language, hence, it is the attitude of people towards English that needs to be reinforced. English language was never at fault of these issues but rather the way we see it, use it and treat it and not a measurement on how we should treat other people. These are just one of the line-ups of issues that we need to be aware of, not an awareness of treating it as a norm but viewing at as something that we need to address. English is not a basis nor an indicator of someone’s intelligence, or a reflection of the level of respect a person deserves. Though it is true that a person may be emulate versatility, manifest better opportunities when she or he can speak English efficiently but learning an English language should not be a reason why many gets pressures, afraid to speak, afraid to speak some errors or a reason why discrimination is rampant. We should learn to build a vicinity away from discrimination, a better inclusive environment where making mistakes, mispronouncing words, puzzling grammar, a solid accent when speaking English aren’t a reflection of ignorance but a milestone of learning. It’s not about English, it’s about us.

Name: Dorenne Jane G. Librea

Section: 1SE

[daviddshiki]

The Adventures of David Dashiki-Tales of an African American Hero- Damn Boring Lessons

IT’S NOT ALL OUR FAULT. JUST IMAGINE HAVING TO SIT FOR 7 HOURS LISTENING TO THOSE BORING, UNPREPARED, LIFELESS, TIRESOME, UNINTERESTING, DRY, TEDIOUS, DULL, UNIMAGINATIVE, STALE, BLAND, MONOTONOUS AND FLAVORLESS LESSONS. In fact, we had a class in which even the teacher yawned during his own presentation. It is time that the truth be told. There is a pandemic to which COVID 19 pales in comparison. It is quite serious and could lead to brain damage It is that monster called,                 “ TERRIBLE TEACHING”.

Recently, the principal paid an unannounced visit to our science class. That was an embarrassment of epic proportions. He greeted the instructor and class in his usual cordial manner. It was all downhill after that. The teacher was a wreck. She did everything possible to hide her anxiety. That, unfortunately, made it worse. He must have suspected foul play and inquired about something called a plan or plan book. I could not decipher which as he was attempting to hide the request from us, the students.  Instantaneously, she turned an incandescent red, some what resembling a light bulb. She rushed to her desk and began to tear it apart in her search. Quickly, she returned to his side with an explanation that caused the principal to scream a full throated, “ WHAT?” She was so startled by his reaction, she chameleoned from red to a fluorescent blue. This is the same tone that people acquire when they are about to die. Objects fell from her hands like rain from the sky. She began to chatter incoherently. The principal did not comprehend a word of what she was speaking. Yet, we who had her daily listened attentively to what she uttered. From that broken vessel erupted a lesson, one in which the students participated willingly and intelligently. It was all created from the teacher’s store of knowledge. It had no foundation in subject matter, curriculum, scope and sequence or defined and carefully planned pedagogy. It was pure babble born from desperation and fright. The instruction was a lesson of the day...of the rapidly fading moment . And, there we were the students , heroes, trying to rescue our doomed and star-crossed teacher. It was a disaster. That one lesson of questionable substance with  its myriad of flaws was not designed with any hope of success. It was indescribable rubbish . Why was that? Why, even today with all the resources available to them are there still teachers unwilling to plan ‘sweet’ ,creative and exciting lessons from which students can discover, learn and enjoy?? Why are teachers unwilling to do what is required of their profession? They knew the demands and obligations before they entered it. Let’s talk about it? Let’s try to find out why so many teachers are just faking it. 

There is simply no accountability. Students can fail with a particular teacher for decades decades.  In fact, there  are instructors who have gallantly failed generations of students,  many from  the same family. There is not an ounce of concern, caring or even questioning regarding the ability or competence of the guilty teachers. What is heartbreaking is the trend toward blaming the students. They cannot read.  They don’t know their numbers. They have not mastered subject matter taught in the previous grades. There are even courses designed to help children adjust and achieve in school. It is all deception for children are the victims here . They are not suffering in school. They are enjoying the ride. They are having a grand ole time fkcuing with the minds of their teachers. Teachers do recommend emotional studies for their charges. Every thing suggested by staff is something which teachers truly need...FOR THEMSELVES The children are not the stress victims at all. They release it daily on the teachers in very creative and ingenious ways.

. I marvel at and am overwhelmed by the curricular innovations designed to enrich the lives of our babies. In the same moment the children are bombing and destroying those expectations and proposals for them with glee, happiness and exhilaration.. They know it is all false and pretentious. The problem does not rest with them. Surely they do not foresee the paradise lost for their lack of scholarship. They go with the flow. FUN AND GAMES. ALL PLAY AND SCARCE LEARNING. What must change ? It is simple. The trend to add courses to help children learn and adjust in school MUST BE TERMINBATED YESTERDAY....STOP IT , TEACH !  Children do not attend school for teachers to experiment on them. STOP IT, TEACH!   Avoid seeking and researching for the solution to the lack of interest and excitement in your classroom. STOP IT. COME TO SCHOOL PREPARED, TEACH! Be caring, academic, scholarly, dynamic, industrious, punctual...All these traits are wonderful. and when applied skillfully will grant students relief and enhance their intellectual  development. Still, the main goal is teaching. STOP IT, TEACH! STOP IT, TEACH ! STOP IT, TEACH. You are not the mother or father. Do what you went to school for. Do what you do best. Do what you were called to do. STOP THE NONSENSE, TEACH! You are not the soul searcher or chiropractor. STOP IT, TEACH!!!

Problems develop where ignorance, stupidity, apathy and asininity dwell. All of this idiocy become the skills acquired in schools where little if any teaching occurs One has to ask, “ Why are the classes in sports, technology, music, art brimming with excitement/ “ THE ANSWER IS THAT THESE CLASSES ARE FILLED WITH LOVE, MOVEMENT, JOY AND ACTIVITY. TEACHERS ARE TEACHING. STOP IT ! stop all the analysis and  reasoning for the lack of interest in your subject. Obviously. there is little passion or enthusiasm for the course content  for there is a lack of TEACHING. No one lives to be dumb. NO ONE WANTS TO BE LABELED AND DUMPED INTO SPECIAL EDUCATION CLASSES. STOP ALL THE REFERRALS AND TEACH. WHAT HAPPENS TO CHILDREN IN SCHOOL IS INHUMANE, ESPECIALLY IN CLASSES WHERE THERE IS NO TEACHING TAKING PLACE. STOP  ALL THE MYSTERY, PUZZLEMENT, ENIGMA THEORIES AND QUERIES ABOUT THE RESASONS THAT OUR CHILDREN ARE NOT LEARNING. STOP ALL THE SEARCHING FOR THE SECRET INGREDIENT WHICH WILL MAKE EDUCATION WORK FOR ALL CHILDREN.  THE ANSWER IS AS PLAI N AND A PIMPLE ON A GOAT’S ASS... TEACH THEM AND THEY WILL LEARN

[transmissionsfromthebattlefield]

Rend It It’s Yours

Campus is a-changin’. Jesus Christ on a stick, I just got here. Deep breaths.

Every time I see something about some change happening here, I generally roll my eyes really hard because it’s 2023 and we’re still in the middle of the “2018-2020″ phase of this whole “master plan” they’ve got for campus. Thanks, COVID. Thanks, recession. And thanks, university administration, for your persisting zeal, which is fascinating to observe. The shiny new map of campus they plastered up on the first floor of the library has their projected business building on it, even though I have seen “it” from a distance multiple times and “it” is nowhere close to even being considered an unfinished building. I’ll be able to watch the construction up close next semester since it’ll be right next to Verder Hall, where I’ll be cooping up without a roommate or AC. I literally thought that building was supposed to be demolished this year.

The final result of Big Business Hall (actually Crawford) is supposed to look something like this, with creepy prison-drawbridge bunker White Hall apparently totally unchanged to its left:

Tree City, amirite? I love how quaint campus is.

Anger inducing sterile boring grassy fields aside, a headline from our own Kent Wired about campus evolution caught my eye in that it was very distinct from any superficial flex of size, power, or fleeting modernity. It was actually based on changing the curriculum itself. It was about the First Year Experience course that help the adorable freshmen-I should know-acclimate them to campus. Next semester, they’ll be rebranding it as Flashes 101, which I’ll admit is a pretty adorable name.

The thing that sticks me out about this new version of the class is that, this time around, students will be able to choose between sections that are specific to their area of study, like the section I had to take, or general sections that include peers with a mix of interests. In my experience, being grouped with students within my major’s college ended up only benefiting me on a personal level, not a social one. My FYE professor was actually the dean of the college my major was located within, and it was really beneficial having such direct access to her and her enthusiasm as I considered different options of what it even was I wanted to do with my education.

I did not have the same lasting effect with any of my peers who were taking the class with me, however. That’s no one’s fault, but it does confirm my belief that defining people by and grouping them together based on one loose and pretty much non-defining factor doesn’t mean they’re all going to be best friends forever. Facts of life, you know. I also ended up changing my major twice last semester, though I was located within the same college every time. Had I been even more questioning and veered off into another college or area of discipline entirely, I might have felt like I didn’t belong alongside everyone else.

Part of what excited me most about college was meeting people different from myself. And by being fascinated by what made people different from the rest, I was able to find the people I’ve clicked with most so far. I hate interacting with humans, but when you find someone you’re actually excited to allot time out of your schedule for, it’s the best feeling in the world. And then maybe on another day you overhear someone in your Media, Power and Culture class say that he doesn’t pay any attention to the news or politics and that he only pays attention to football, and you can’t believe how anyone could live life like that. And it makes you feel a little more confident in a part of yourself you might’ve questioned in a world gone mad.

College is inherently fucked up, and it can be oddly isolating when schedules don’t match up or disintegrate entirely. But that’s why it works. It gives you the superficial comforts of “You Belong Here” posters and tag along friends from high school (unless you’re me), and then it throws you into the arena of self reliance, self confidence, and self advocating. You will find community and solidarity, and you will also find spontaneity and the people who you strive to be the exact opposite of in every way possible. And the beautiful thing is that here at Kent State, we all have our own ways of being “the worst kind of people we harbor in America”, as per one Governor James Rhodes. The good and the bad are definitely both teasing away at my comfort zone at any given moment. The mindless bus rides, the hard walks through rain and snow, the late night study sessions, the frat parties, the emphasis on legacy, the gentrification. The supposed fact that downtown apparently needs two goddamn smoothie bowl places for some reason. Humanity in all of its facets is at both its dimmest and  its brightest in College Town USA, and that will never cease to wow me.

College is all I wanted it to be and everything I didn’t think to dread all at once, and I just might love that.

[whatsupspaceman]

i feel like people Do often know how to do this, especially in academic settings, but internetism and just often being young makes people be very vocal about their bad literary takes. most of this kind of debate and discourse i see comes from teens ect who haven't maybe, gone through a queer history learning phase (which is not necessarily their fault, it’s hard to find it without actively seeking it out bc of queer history and knowledge being famously suppressed, but that's a whole different conversation). or even just ... gone through enough english classes. it wasn’t until mid and late high school when i remember first really diving into the weeds of cultural context of certain novels we studied. (like fahrenheit 451, or Seamus Heaney’s poetry, or the handmaids tale, or whatever lit your curriculum goes into) This happens so much with speculative fiction especially- where the time period of something like fahrenheit 451 isnt considered when someone reads the book, and they don’t understand how the fear of the cold war and culture of television at the time colored that fictional dystopia- and some of it seems ridiculous in the context of the 2020s. (Speculative fiction and dystopia is always always more about commenting on the current state of the world, not actually trying to predict the future)

Not that ignoring context isn’t a real thing and a problem on the internet (with lit and i see it SO frequently with film). But so often it just comes from a little echo chamber of folks talking about queer representation as something that must be explicit and stated out loud and confirmed every time.

It’s understandable how this came about too: when the history of queerness in film is inseparable from overwhelming censorship and how creators tried their best to work with what they had- leading to subtext (and bury/punish your gays) as the predominant way queer cinema could even be queer, now that we don’t “have” to follow the censorship of the Hayes Code in the same way, subtextual stories seem simply like the artists werent trying hard enough to show queerness, or they didnt care to, or subtextual narratives made on purpose get conflated with queerbaiting (another whole different post). This causes problems when critically viewing modern queer stories, as obviously, subtext stories are still very important (the problem comes when that’s all there is), and it causes problems when modern audiences look back with the cultural expectations of today’s representation to older works of queer literature and cinema and other media—

that’s what leads to queer folks today going: “well, why isnt dorian grey a fully fleshed out gay narrative?” or, “brokeback mountain is problematic representation because of its tragic narrative and punishment of queerness,” instead of viewing these stories keeping in mind how differnt it was when and where they came from, and knowing how groundbreaking these stories were for queer people within the context. Even something as modern as steven universe or legend of korra, are not excempt from the “modern-goggles”, where we see every queer story’s flaws in what it lacks in representation instead of the way they pave the way forward and outward. This mindset traps people into thinking the more critical we are and the more progress we make, that one day there will be “perfect” queer representation. But that’s never been the “goal” of queer representation.

It’s to be allowed to tell queer stories freely without the weight of potential backlash from being too queer, having to be censored or artists being punished for making art (like Oscar Wilde). To tell stories without the weight of backlash because it isn’t good enough representation that encapsulates every single queer experience. It’s the freedom to tell shitty queer stories and subtexual queer stories and stories about queer people who aren’t in healthy relationships or aren’t good people or have to even have happy endings. When we have a piece of queer media that’s just so fucking bad, but that doesn’t mean it reflects or says anything about “queer media” or queer people as a whole.

I hope sincerely that this tendency to beat up every queer story for its flaws without the historical and cultural context of why they have those flaws will die down, but I also hope it means we are moving towards the time where we have so much wonderful and wild and uncensored and diverse and varying queer media that it’s ok to have queer media that sucks, too.

it drives me bonkers the way people don't know how to read classic books in context anymore. i just read a review of the picture of dorian gray that said "it pains me that the homosexual subtext is just that, a subtext, rather than a fully explored part of the narrative." and now i fully want to put my head through a table. first of all, we are so lucky in the 21st century to have an entire category of books that are able to loudly and lovingly declare their queerness that we've become blind to the idea that queerness can exist in a different language than our contemporary mode of communication. second it IS a fully explored part of the narrative! dorian gray IS a textually queer story, even removed from the context of when its writing. it's the story of toxic queer relationships and attraction and dangerous scandals and the intertwining of late 19th century "uranianism" and misogyny. second of all, i'm sorry that oscar wilde didn't include 15k words of graphic gay sex with ao3-style tags in his 1890 novel that was literally used to convict him of indecent behaviour. get well soon, i guess...

[mistprints]

I was watching the news about how LA banned homeless encampments near schools, as well as how Nevada was demolishing tiny homes made for the homeless based on a technicality about square footage allowed..and like. People demonize the homeless and try to make other people see them as immoral and criminal. While the US needs to handle its homeless problem like every other developed nation, with housing and the opportunity to get employed again once back on their feet, demonizing them under the pretense of "think of the poor children" is not going to help anyone. "But why do they deserve to get free help? We are all struggling and it's their own fault they're homeless." So many homeless were veterans and people that had one bad month or one bad disaster that any one of us could have gone through. And to say they aren't deserving of help when we DO have the capacity to do so....well, we are constantly lied to that it would cost too much and that the everyday taxpayer would suffer. It costs us more in taxes when the city builds hostile architecture, and when these people get very sick from being outside and are taken to emergency rooms. We fund and throw money into programs that don't do anything to help people *out* of homelessness, just temporarily slap a bandaid on it. And while that isn't nothing, it is not what the end goal should be. It is a lie that people end up homeless only due to laziness. It's a lie that the majority of homeless people are homeless from laziness. In America, it is so damn expensive to live, that 70% of Americans are one disaster away from living on the streets. Some of these people had to choose between their house and live-saving medical treatment. The way we treat them is disgusting, like untouchables and we pretend they aren't there except when it comes to putting them out of sight. I've known people who were working 9 to 5 jobs while living out of homeless shelters still. The wages weren't enough to get them any sort of rent. The median rent right now is $2,000 here. $15 minimum wage isn't going to cut it. We are being conned and lied to about not getting more pay than that. This is a capitalist hellscape, hostile to working-class (everyone who is not the 1%) human life. It shouldn't and does not have to be like this. Higher taxes for free healthcare would cost less than a monthly premium we would no longer have to pay, but we don't talk about that. We keep getting gaslit by politicians whose motives are not in our best interest. They are bought out [read: bribed] to keep the status quo and make the rich richer while ignoring our crumbling infrastructure, a predatory housing crisis, flagging wages, environmental crisis for the future of humanity, and healthcare. We fail at everything except profits, which get directly funneled to this vague "rich" class and hoarded. And more people will become homeless while the rest have a worse and worse quality of life. This is not sustainable. There are several things that could be done to fix these issues in a decade at most; I could narrow it down to 5 broad ones:

Raising the minimum wage -honestly one of the most effective ways to give the working class more spending money. Wages have not grown with the rest of the economy in decades. We work harder for less.

Capping Rent universally -can be adjusted for the cost of living in each city, but cannot exceed 30% of the minimum paycheck. ideally for at least 3 years. We also should not allow companies to buy up homes for sale in mass so they can rent them out eternally.

Universal Healthcare -take out the insurance company middle man. it is cheaper for everyone even for those that don't have health insurance (because we pay with higher taxes for high-risk people such as the homeless when they are taken in for dire situations.)

Education Reform -The American school system is deeply flawed. The curriculum has not been updated since the 60s. We fall far behind much of the world. This would include language classes and equitable funding for all departments. Ideally, this would include daycare too.

Environmental Action -Probably the hardest one to tackle and with a time crunch. This goes hand in hand with infrastructure reform; the energy grid wastes a ton of power because of how old and crumbling it is. Water infrastructure is also in danger with the recent droughts part of the country is seeing and the floods in the other. Reducing carbon emissions, using the other better and available energy options...I could make a whole post about this alone because it is what I majored in, but requires a lot more than just switching the lights we use and saving energy. This is bigger than just a consumer-level problem, and the biggest polluters are a handful of companies that ruin the environment, reap the benefits and keep them, then put the environmental costs on all of us. They need to be strictly regulated and required to change wasteful and environmentally harmful practices; and not just with carbon offsets.

our issues are way more complicated and numerous, and I do have more ideas on smaller issues too. But I think handling these would significantly impact the others to raise the quality of life here. We have to divert from the path we are charging down, because not all Americans are the bigoted and ignorant people shown all over the news. A majority of us want the best for each other and to live our lives rather than just survive until we die. Many don't know what to do to begin to change things and can't afford to even leave while a handful of men in powerful offices toy with people's lives all over the world just because they can and have the guns to force the rest of us into thinking we are powerless against them. They keep us divided and uninformed and we often get to choose between a bad and horrible choice for who ends up in charge.

If anyone reads this and wonders what they can do, the biggest impact an individual can do is vote. Vote in people that will make these things happen and who aren't being paid on the side to work for corporate and stock and pharmaceutical and defense industry interests. Vote in your primaries so that when the big decision finally comes, we aren't left with the worst options. Don't let them scare you and don't let them destroy the shreds of democracy we have left.

[hunis-archives]

ok. ok hear me out. 

that one scene in the little princess where captain crewe is trying to talk to sara bc he forgot about her (yk war things!) and sara is like ‘papa it’s me’ and he doesn’t remember having a daughter until like she’s screaming and crying as the police take her away right and ram dass just stares at him. 

but it’s loid , anya , donna , henry (ft. yor and becky) something happens during a mission at eden academy and loid gets FUCKED UP , he’s forgotten all about operation strix because amnesia (I GUESS) and henry found him and is like god GOD man and gets him patched up. and loid is chilling in some study trying to remember who he is. 

anya on the other hand is having the WORST day of her life. the WORST. she messed up BIG time today. well , according to eden she messed up. it is not her fault that she is just a child trying to get through an incredibly difficult curriculum, sometimes they get frustrated, and in their frustration they do bad things. (i can’t think of specifics right now bc i’m still SAD). but the police had to be called due to anya’s unwillingness to cooperate. anya saw henry on the way and thought she would be done for in that moment. henry sensed her fear and decided to let her into the study he just walked out of (the one where loid is in) thinking maybe anya would trigger a memory or two. 

anya’s hiding and crying and just taking a moment and loid pokes his head out like when did a child get in here. he doesn’t like to see children cry, for some reason this one crying makes him hurt even more. so he stands and walks slowly over to console her. anya isn’t looking and she hasn’t realized it’s him yet. since she is upset right now and dealing with a lot she can’t read minds as clearly. 

loid speaks to her slowly , explaining that he’s a friend and he won’t hurt her. when she looks up and realizes who it is she is RELIEVED and immediately goes to hug him. but loid steps back and gently peels her off. now she reads his mind. she genuinely thinks i’m her father? cue the begging and the screaming. anya’s mind immediately goes to the worst case scenario: the mission was completed and loid no longer needs her/loid didn’t need her after all and this is a really fucked up way to cut her out of his life. 

henry stalled enough and had to let to police through , keeping them on school grounds was going to do nothing but hurt eden and its students. but when he opened the door the sight was horrific. anya begging and apologizing for everything she ever did , everything she could have POSSIBLY done wrong , bargaining. saying she’ll study more , watch less TV , take care of bond better , won’t bother him when he’s doing work. ANYTHING to MAKE HIM STAY. loid feels awkward now , he kind of just stood there with his hands up. when the polic questioned him he claimed he didn’t have a daughter. donna is like OH ! so we’re going to start LYING now , get her out of here. and the police pick her up and take her out. anya lets out the most heart wrenching cry you can think of. henry is in shock and loid is in shambles.

yor gets the call that her daughter is being taken by the police and that she AND LOID have to go get her. she tried calling him but the hospital said that he had left work already (idk smth to cover up the fact that he didn’t SHOW UP) she assumed he would be on his way to anya already. when she got there , she saw anya being pulled along by an officer (who was hurting her while trying to keep her from running). immediately began to fight to get her out of their grasp. now SHE is being held back by police and pulled away from anya. (now she COULD fight them off but that puts anya and yor more at risk) both of them are calling out to one another as they are being pulled to separate cars. the commotion has many opening their windows. 

(becky is being held back by her teacher! she didn’t want to lose her friend) loid stared at the wall blankly , he could still hear anya’s cries and apologies. her little hand reaching out to him as the officer pulled her out of there. he couldn’t be a father...she must have missed her real mother and father that much. loid wondered what kind of family he belonged to , and then a question he never asked popped into his head. 

if you were to compare your mama to your old mama, who would you rate higher? 

that was all it took , loid immediately stood up and ran out of there. anya was already in the car , it was yor now that was being difficult. six officers are on her trying to push her in but she’s NOT moving. has the most MURDEROUS look on her face. loid runs out there and in that moment yor breaks FREE and runs over to him ready to explain what is happening but right now he needs to grab anya. he sees her pounding her little fists against the window and DEMANDS that she be let out RIGHT NOW. 

and then you have this heart warming moment you know he’s holding both his wife and kid trying to comfort them as best he can right now. he has a lot of apologies to give (especially to anya)

so yeah :D  if someone had this idea and like wrote it in a fanfic give it to me right now. i NEED IT