#Josephine Waters

[josephine-waters]

De los casi algo.

Los casi algo son muy poco,

Pero ese casi es la gota de rocío que le da brillo a la hojas,

el soplo de viento en un día asfixiante y caluroso,

el vaho que intercambian los amantes y tiene un sabor tan dulce.

Los casi algo son quimeras,

como el climax de un sueño del que lamentas haber despertado,

es la imaginación llenando los huecos de lo que no fue pero podría,

la verdad seduciendo a la mentira, el juicio embaucado al placer.

Los casi algo son exiguos,

se saborean con deleite, pero su sabor es tenue,

como sed que no se calma aunque te bebas un rio,

un picor que no se calma por mucho que se rasca.

Los casi algo son deliciosos,

son hilos fáciles de ensartar, pero cuidado que se enredan,

son caramelos exóticos, que no empalagan porque hay pocos,

son estimulantes como un subidón de azúcar, un impulso de autoestima.

Los casi algo son engañosos,

al principio no ocupan espacio en tus cajones, pero se expanden,

prometen ser un asunto baladí, pero dejan marca en todo lo que tocan,

momentos que quieres revivir, se tornan fantasías y nuevas obsesiones.

Los casi algo son adictivos,

una droga natural, la sensación de estar volando o ser lanzado,

y quieres seguir colocado, buscas tu siguiente dosis de adrenalina,

la abstinencia te enloquece, ya no lo quieres, lo necesitas.

Los casi algo son gusto culposo,

no es un secreto pero lo susurras, la intimidad de hablar al oído,

el secreto lo hace excitante, que nadie sepa lo que hay escondido,

las luces encendidas pero el placer en lo oscuro.

Los casi algo son la fuente de los deseos,

la lujuria desatada te da el coraje para extinguir todos los tabúes,

el juego sin reglas, la sensualidad que hay en hacer trampa,

la falta de futuro te libera, te saca de encima la ansiedad y te atreves.

Querido casi nada, que rico todo,

no me haces falta, a veces te extraño.

Querido casi algo, gracias por estar,

no te acabes nunca, cierra la puerta al salir.

[tahopo]

I can’t tell if you hate Solas or not 😭 however I do find your trevelyan-lavellan very interesting!

thank youuu 🦭🦭🦭

[darklinaforever]

Not only does the cut scene of Jack and Rose looking at the shooting star echo his death scene, but it also includes a form of belief / discourse about heaven, which would probably have made people even more inclined to Rose dying and joins Jack at the end rather than believing that she is simply having a dream... (Even if the dialogue about Jack saying that Rose will die very old, snug in his bed should have been a necessary indication... Thanks to JC for confirming that Rose is indeed dead at the end) I swear this scene should definitely be in the movie ! I can't even believe it got cut ! Of all these deleted scenes, for me it's the worst. As I said in a cut scene, there are still 3 other scenes that I like, but this is definitely the one I would choose if we could choose one scene to reinstate. (Even if once again, the scene where Rose goes to pick up Jack in 3rd class and the scene where Jack stops a man from getting on the door also brings so much more wonderful sense of detail...)

[sock-puppet-dinosaur]

Local woman angered that home slightly disturbed by construction, decides to construct entirely new house in worst possible location

Disturbances in the area were caused by much-needed refitting of water infrastructure ahead of a coming drought, locals say.

[silent-hill-2-official]

We at Konami would once again like to remind you that Silent Hill 2 is the only Silent Hill that is cannon anymore. There are no more Silent Hill games, just Silent Hill 2. Now buy the Silent Hill 2 remake and don’t worry about Angela or the fact that the game she is in is being remade by Bloober Team (with the exact same director as The Medium). Konami PR rep Josephine still cannot believe that we are getting another Christophe Ganse Silent Hill 2 Movie. I want to wake up from this nightmare already.

[hotvintagepoll]

What are some screwball comedy pairings you wish had been a thing? Can definitely be gay ones :)

Okay finally!

One of the reasons I made this blog in the first place is that few things bring me as much blinding rage as imagining the movies we could have gotten, if old Hollywood had stopped being racist/homophobic/anti-everyone for ten fucking seconds. There were so many talented hotties working through our tournament era who only got cameo spots or no-budget movies! for no reason beyond white supremacy! there were so many stories that didn't get told because heaven forbid we acknowledge gay people! If this blog has a mission statement, a big chunk of it would be about highlighting all the amazing hotties who never got what they deserved in their heyday.

So! Let's tear Louis B. Mayer a new one and make some better movies.

Diamond Eyes (1946)

Harold Nicholas, the bored but fabulous son of a Manhattan millionaire, decides to take himself off on a transatlantic cruise to recover from the boredoms of socialites, constant martinis, and west side glamor. When working girl Rita Hayworth snags him into a fake dating scheme to throw off a jealous ex (Cesar Romero), he doesn't mean to fall in love with his false fiancé—or to set the ex up with his scheming accountant (Tyrone Power).

To the Tune of Millions (1945)

Ann Miller and Lena Horne are conwomen besties who use a fake dance act to get into casinos, which they then promptly rob. Unfortunately, an over-enthusiastic talent agent (Gene Kelly) sees the act and thinks they're legitimate, hiring them on the spot as the lead number in a newly opened but already failing musicale review. Who can they hustle at a theater that's barely bringing in a dime? The two ex-cons fall in love with show business, Kelly and Horne smooch at the grand finale, and Miller has an intense will-they-or-won't-they sparring relationship with the hot stage manager (Ethel Waters—and they will).

Untitled Three's-a-Crowd Film (1942)

Cary Grant, Jean Arthur, and Ronald Colman are running interference on a corrupt justice system while trying to keep up the act that they are all simply cohabitating in a shared AirBnB and definitely not falling in love with each other. Wait. This is actually The Talk of the Town. This movie actually exists and does veer this hard into polyamorous romance.

Tomatoes and Toast (1928)

Anna May Wong and Greta Garbo eat sandwiches for three hours. It's riveting.

One Soul, Two Bodies (1948)

Farley Granger and Vincent Price star as Alexander the Great and Hephaestion in this sword-and-sandals period piece. Though clearly made on a studio backlot with a budget of $3, the dashing romance grounds the chariot races and cardboard sword battle sequences.

Grand Central Station (1931)

Interconnected narratives of Josephine Baker, Joan Blondell, Dolores del Río, and Fredric March all vying for the last seat on the 5:45 train out to Poughkeepsie. When they realize they're jostling to sit next to the same sugar daddy who's been stringing all of them along, the four decide to unionize. Pre-code thrills; the four-in-a-bunk Pullman car scene remains notable for a reason.

I have more but I think I've gone a bit delirious.

[aheathen-conceivably]

New Year’s Day 1934 had come and gone. In the desert, it hadn’t seemed that much different than the height of spring or the dawn of fall. The day had been hot while the night was filled with the rage of dusty wind. Only with it had come the news that they would have celebrated with gusto five years prior: Prohibition Ends At Long Last! Instead it was marked in a silent kitchen, the first bottle of legal liquor they could purchase in over a decade sitting precariously between them. No one knew if it was there to enjoy or to numb.

Each one of them clutched their own glass in guilty silence, maybe even imagining the clinking of champagne flutes that could have once accompanied this occasion. Rather than carouse in a frenzy of dance, they studiously avoided each other’s eyes, afraid to break the silence with even a sip. Everyone except Josephine. 

She threw back her drink so that when she spoke her voice was slurred with anger and alcohol, “So you’re telling me you don’t even own the goddamn farm, Gio? The farm you lured us all out to.”

“Of course I own the farm, Josephine. It’s just a loan, it just means…”

“I know how a loan works. Better than you do apparently. It means if you don’t have their money in six months they take the house. It means they own you.” She turned to Antoine and Zelda, pointing her finger and her blame directly at them, “And you two knew? What the fuck have you been doing, lying and playing at being farmers while the roof over our heads slowly falls into someone else’s hands?”

Antoine remained impassive, the anger and guilt swirling in his glass turning him to stone; but Zelda’s eyes watered as she futilely tried to answer. Gio saw her panic and spoke for her, “Its my loan, Jo, and mine alone. I was supposed to have until the end of the year, okay? The bank moved up the terms on me. I mean this can’t be legal — just scooping up someone’s land like this when we had an agreement.”

“Oh the end of the year, was it? Then you could have swept it under the rug so that poor little Josephine never found out, huh? That it? Well you’re an idiot. All of you. Idiots.” She covered her face in her hands, unsure if the burning in her throat was from the whiskey or the sob she had suppressed, “Does it even matter if it’s tomorrow or December? You don’t have the money. Antoine barely earns shit, and your little farming pipe dream does nothing but keep us hand to mouth. Where’s the money going to come from? The same imagination that told you any of this was a good idea in the first place?”

Her insults finally succeeded in burying the sob so deep that she could look back up at Zelda, “I’m right aren’t I? We can’t make shit off this land?” Jo’s eyes dared Zelda to so much as try to challenge her, so all she could do was muster a guilty nod of her head in affirmation.

Jo looked back toward Gio, the anger rising as the words she really wanted to cry out stayed trapped in her throat. You all let me think you were happy. That our life was perfect and I was the problem. You let me sink and disintegrate while you lied to my face! I stayed because I love you, and this is how you repay me!

Instead she sharpened her words and her eyes into razor sharp daggers, “I’ve had enough of this shit. I’m going into town tomorrow. It’s been over a month. The saloons and the bars have to be opening back up. I’ll sling a drink, I’ll do anything. We lose the roof over our heads and it’s right on the route with the rest of the Okies, fighting for scraps and scrounging for gas while Violette starves. Pathetic, Gio. All of you. Idiotic and pathetic..."

Her speech was cut short by the sound of Gio’s chair scraping against the wooden floors, “Enough, Josephine! I told you to leave them out of it!” Then he went quiet, hands gripping the table as her steadfast gaze told him she would never be the first to back down. When he spoke again it was in a low, chilling voice that none of them had ever heard before, "And I won't let you do that. To go down there and sell yourself again."

Antoine and Josephine rose to their feet at the same time; the former’s eyes burned with threats all the while Gio stayed staring at Jo. Within a split second his voice returned to normal, full of remorse and pleading as he ran after her in a rush of apologies and reassurances.

Their footsteps echoed on the hollow porch before they disappeared on the sand below. Zelda’s fingers remained locked on Antoine’s wrist, anchoring him in place until his rage could subside. His mind was vibrating with Gio’s final words; but he looked down to Zelda, internally counting to ten as he let her face replace the images of wrapping his hands around Gio’s neck, making him feel just as trapped and suffocated as his sister did before he let him go, gasping and desperate for air.

By the time the image faded, there was nothing left in the room but silence.

He sank back into his chair, moving it closer to Zelda. The look of guilt still hadn’t left her eyes, and seeing it, Antoine’s anger settled into worry. She didn’t hesitate to speak to him the way she had to Jo, “I should go after her, shouldn’t I? I should have told her. I’m her friend. Her sister…”

As her words dried up his stepped in, “I know, Zelda. I know. But we couldn’t. How could we?” He already knew that she didn't have to answer, because they had tried to absolve their complicity a dozen times. At their most avoidant, they had told each other it wasn’t their lie to tell. But beyond their deepest desire to avoid the conflict at all costs, they both knew that with each lie to Josephine’s face they had made it their betrayal just as much as Giorgio's. Only they were backed into an impossible corner, simply hoping the loan would be paid off and it would never come to this; otherwise, it meant they might lose Josephine or their home, perhaps even both.

Now that it had, all they could do was repeat what they had told themselves and each other for years. “They love each other, you know that. They’ll work it out. They have to.”

Zelda answered with a small nod, still unable to take her eyes off the door left open to the desert beyond. Across its stillness she could swear she heard arguing. She knew that she couldn’t convince Josephine to stay, the same way that she couldn’t have told her and jeopardized her daughter’s home and happiness.

So she let Antoine pull her head down onto his shoulder, gradually coming to the real question boiling under the surface. But where are we going to get the money? Only it was no use voicing it, not when they and Gio had already discussed it a dozen times over. Both of them had looked for work, and however many times Zelda offered to do the same, they all came to the same conclusion: they couldn’t sell what they grew, but at least they could eat it. She was the only one who could really ensure they wouldn’t go hungry, and the one who’s presence at home was actually the most vital of them all.

So all they could do was sit and wait to see if Josephine would stay. Wait and hope.

[seaofgoldensand]

so, i had seen a lot of people saying that xavier only loves queen mc, but after reading his 3rd anecdote, i’d beg to differ. 

there is a quote in there where he says “no matter how many times it takes, no matter where you are… i will find you.” 

to xavier, mc is both hunter and queen. there is no difference. even if mc were to have another life, xavier will still see her as the same person, the love of his life basically. and no matter how many lives it may take, he will go through anything and everything to find her and be with her in some way.

also, his relationship from queen mc evidently carried over to hunter mc. remember in his myth where she was in a duel with xavier before he was taken away and jeremiah came up to talk to her, but when xavier returned and saw jeremiah’s arm around mc, xavier clearly was pouting and even told him basically to stay in his own lane. then we have hunter mc who jeremiah was measuring her figure in order to create an outfit to fit her fake role only for xavier to deadass spray water at him like a misbehaving dog saying that she can do it herself. 

i know damn well jeremiah had a ball in both instances, he just enjoys provoking xavier whenever possible.

his jealousy shows the same whether queen mc or hunter mc, perhaps he learned from his mistake before, but his efforts with hunter mc seems more like ‘i’ve made this mistake before, i won’t allow it to happen again’. because, if it were truly only for queen mc, then why would xavier go out of his way for hunter mc; when mc lost caleb and josephine, how she felt lonely and xavier told her about snowflakes falling on loved one’s shoulders by their passed loved ones. or even the most recent cards such as ‘romantic afternoon’ and ‘succumb’  as well as his 4* memories altogether. 

for someone who is coined as the one who only loves and cares for one version of a woman…he sure treats hunter mc a lot better than he did with queen mc. but, i still stand on this hill that xavier loves mc, no matter what version she is. also something i want to add, man is old, he’s been traveling space to and fro, he would never waste his time on someone he didn’t genuinely want to be around or simply be with.

when i say it transcends, this is legit what i mean.

to him, queen mc is right there with him, once made to be his knight, now hunting and defeating wanderers side by side.

also for @ly-pleiades because she asked to peek into my thoughts about xavier and such and i am happy to deliver what i can

[thechildofbhaalhasawoken]

Cullen: *in his office in the morning, attaching his armor piece by piece*

Josephine, Dorian, Vivienne and Leliana: *enter*

Cullen: Uh, good morning? Have you heard of knocking?

Vivienne: Deepest apologies, my dear Commander, but we need to talk about the Orlesian dignitaries who are visiting later today.

Cullen: Can we talk about it a little later? I haven’t had breakfast yet. *fidgets nervously*

Josephine: It won’t take long, Commander.

Leliana: And besides we know you don’t eat breakfast. *eyes suspiciously*

Cullen: *furiously trying to think of something*

Vivienne: The good ambassador has told me that you have refused the dinner invitation and the request to show our guests the barracks.

Cullen: I honestly have work to do, and have no time to be parading around nobles.

Dorian: Do you hear something weird?

Cullen: All I hear is the open door behind you.

Vivienne: But these nobles have deep interest in warfare and you made quite the impact on them at the Winter Palace!

Josephine: And they could be persuaded into sponsoring - I hear something too. Is there a bird upstairs? We really should renovate your roof, Commander.

Leliana: No that is the sound of water. Is someone using your privy upstairs, Commander? *eyebrow lift*

Dorian: *smug grin*

Cullen: *blush* I, uh, I’m sure you’re just hearing noise from outside.

Upstairs: *sound of door opening, steps on the floor, rummaging*

Cullen: *urgently* You know we could continue this discussion at your office, Josephine?

Upstairs: Did you say something, vhenan?

Josephine, Dorian, Vivienne and Leliana: *look at each other and then at Cullen*

Cullen: *covers his face with his hand* No.

Upstairs: No? Well I know you’re not much of a morning person, so fine. Have you seen my trousers?

Vivienne: *about to say something*

Leliana: *stabs Vivienne with her elbow to shut her up*

Dorian: *delighted grin*

Josephine: *having the time of her life*

Cullen: *kicks said trousers from the floor to behind his desk* I don’t know but I definitely think you should stay upstairs for a bit longer.

Upstairs: Oh are you coming back up here? Did you change your mind, Mr. ”I can’t possibly go again yet?”

Cullen: No, no!

Upstairs: Well I suppose twice last night and once this morning is quite a lot.

Dorian: *silent applaud at Cullen*

The ladies: *looking at Cullen from head to toe with very approving nods*

Cullen: Maker’s breath, you’ll be the death of me.

Inquisitor: *slides down the ladder in a flurry of bare legs, wearing no trousers*

Vivienne: Good morning, your worship.

Josephine: I hope you had an invigorating night.

Leliana: And an energising morning.

Dorian: How many times was it for you?

Cullen: Never you mind. *throws the Inquisitor her trousers*

Inquisitor: Six. *catches trousers*

Cullen: *groans and facepalms*

Leliana: Nothing to be embarrassed about, Commander!

Josephine: Six? And three? That’s… amazing.

Dorian: Hell yes it is. *offer to high five with Cullen, switches to the Inquisitor when he doesn’t*

Inquisitor: *high fives Dorian and pulls on trousers* You know you could have said there was someone here.

Cullen: I tried to tell you not to come downstairs.

Inquisitor: Oh I did come downstairs, that was the first one of six, remember?

Cullen: *mortified*

Dorian: *absolutely pissing his pants*

Inquisitor: Anyway, I’ll let you talk about whatever you’re here for.

Vivienne: Oh we wanted to talk to you about the visiting dignitaries too-

Inquisitor: See you in the evening, Cullen, byeee *flees through the open door*

Cullen: I knew everything was going too well for me.

Josephine and Vivienne: *proceed to bombard Cullen with boring questions and duties*

Leliana and Dorian: *continue to insert a lot of double entendres*

[josephine-waters]

Les comparto un pequeño cuento de princesas que acabo de escribir, aunque no con la historia tradicional.

DISCLAIMER: Historia sin editar, tal cual la escribí la comparto, después me tomaré el tiempo de releerla y corregir lo que haya que corregir.

Espero que les guste y si están interesados pueden ver mi perfil de Wattpad con otras historias y pensamientos que comparto por allá.

Había una vez una princesa encerrada en un castillo, desde que era niña le dijeron que debía esperar el momento en que el príncipe la rescatara, dicho personaje seria valeroso, fuerte, valiente y virtuoso, pero aún cuando no lo fuera la princesa debía pretender que así lo veía, por que era lo correcto después de que el príncipe se tomara la “molestia” de ir por ella. Como el noble hombre tendría que pasar por algunos inconvenientes obstáculos para finalmente encontrarla se merecía un premio y como no el honor no podía presumirse efectivamente, la princesa debía entregarse como trofeo a su salvador. ¡Hurra! El príncipe que la rescato de las garras de la terrible bestia y la libero de ese hosco castillo, la tomaba entre sus fuertes brazos y la llevaba a su propia morada para que fuera libre entre los limites de su reino.

Mientras tanto ella debía prepararse para ser la damisela ideal, siempre bella y empolvada pues de acuerdo a los cuentos de los Hombres los reyes abundan podría encontrarse a un aristócrata en cualquier momento, delgada y con buena postura, siempre ocupada pero nunca demasiado, con un inteligencia suave y no demasiado aguda cuidadosa de incomodar al caballero con temas impropios o que rebasen su astucia. El heroico hidalgo ha estado muy ocupado preparándose para lucirse en batalla por lo que necesitará ayuda para mantenerse con vida, sabe comer pero no cocinar, sabe dormir pero no preparar un lecho, sabe vestirse pero no ocuparse de sus ropas, sabe procrear pero no criar a los niños, se deberá ocupar la doncella de aprender todo esto si su prioridad es realmente ser rescatada.

Al princesa creció y algunos hombres que juraban ser hijos de los más celebres reyes, quisieron ir por ella, un par casi lo lograron pero apresurados e imprudentes no solo no lograron rescatarla, sino que la lastimaron, quemándola con el fuego del dragón del que escapaban, rasguñada por las espinas del seto que los rodeaba y el peor lastimándola con el filo de la espada que cargaba.

La princesa siguió esperando cada vez con menos optimismo a su caballeresco salvador, pero tenía que esperar, debía hacerlo, ¿que otra opción tenía?, no había un cuento de princesa sin el valeroso príncipe, no había felices por siempre sin el beso de verdadero amor. Y odio al enorme zarzal que rodeaba su castillo y maldijo sus gruesas ramas cargadas de espinas, odio también al dragón que infatigable dormía a lado de su fortaleza, que lanzaba fuego a los que se lanzabas espadas en alto hacia ella, los culpó del fracaso de los jinetes que agotados regresaban por donde habían venido o de los que al ver la complejidad de la hazaña volteaban la vista sin ni siquiera intentarlo.

El tiempo paso y el espíritu de la princesa decaía, hastiada y rencorosa por su posición, ya no cantaba, ni veía el amanecer con idilio, su corazón corría el riesgo de endurecerse por siempre, ennegrecido por no haber cumplido lo que ella creía era su propósito, sus ojos antes luminosos, se apagaban y si esto sucedía dejaría de ser damisela para ser gárgola, gris, encorvada y atroz. En el atardecer de los últimos días cuando los últimos reflejos de su mirada se extinguían un viejo halcón aterrizo derrotado en su terraza, desdichado contó el destino de su ama; princesa de un reino lejano, hermosa como la luz de las estrellas y encantadora como las flores de primavera, guiada por su bondad había derribado los obstáculos de su morada para que los príncipes no se lastimaran al aproximarse a ella. Pero la nobleza de esos hombres estaba en su titulo y no en su corazón cuando fueron a por ella, una batalla feroz dejo al más bruto de pie y a cargo de ella, la tomo como esposa, la llevo a una oscura cueva que el tenia por hogar y la obligo a servirle, no había amabilidad ni virtud en su trato, era mas hiriente que cualquier espino que alguna vez la rozo. Así, la princesa humillada y envejecida realizo el ultimo acto magnánimo del que era capaz, dejar ir a su único amigo para que volando contara su historia a las demás princesas, para que ellas decidieran que hacer con su tragedia.

La noble dama estuvo silenciosa un par de días, paso varios días en cama y se temía lo peor, hasta que un día resoluta salió de su castillo, el dragón abrió un ojo presto para detenerla sin intentaba escapar, pero ella se detuvo justo en donde estaba el gran seto de espinas observándolo con detenimiento por un momento, entrecerró los ojos preocupada y para sorpresa de todos empezó a regarlo, rodeo su castillo hidratando el enorme arbusto y cuando termino sonrió satisfecha. Los días siguientes hubo mas sorpresas, reparo las goteras de su castillo, pinto sus paredes, encendió las chimeneas, el gris fue remplazado por pasteles, el olor a humedad se transformo en lavanda. Hizo galletas e invito al dragón a tomar el té, le tejió una cobija y le pinto entre risas las garras.

De ahí en adelante entendió que el castillo era su hogar y no su prisión, cuando tenia ganas de salir subía al lomo de su leal guardian y volaban juntos a recorrer el mundo, no odio nunca mas las barreras y obstáculos que rodeaban su castillo, al contrario los aprecio y los cuido, sabiendo que no eran un peligro, sino su protección. No hubo jamás en el reino castillo mejor fortificado, ni uno mas hermoso, pues era un verdadero palacio. Tampoco era un lugar desolado, quienes tenían paciencia podían pasar la barrera sin clavarse ni siquiera una astilla, quienes actuaban con amabilidad ante la dulce dama regresaban solo con el recuerdo del suave calor que irradiaba el dragón, pero quienes intentaban entrar por la fuerza o se comportaban sin honor ante ella, terminarían apuñalados por las filosas espinas o con la piel chamuscada cortesía de la bestia que la defendía. La princesa ya no esperaba un príncipe, si se presentaba alguno que pudiera atravesar los obstáculos y cuya cualidad de caballero no dependiera de su espada tal vez lo aceptaría, tal vez no. No quería un rescate, ni necesitaba abandonar su castillo, pero había espacio en su corazón y en su palacio para alguien mas, sabia que el dragón no tendría problemas con resguardar a otro corazón valiente, pero aún si el o ella no se presentaban sabia que su historia terminaría en “vivió feliz para siempre”.

[llovelymoonn]

favourite poems of august

marge piercy circles on the water: selected poems of marge piercy: "for the young who want to"

marilyn chin fruit études

lisa olstein radio crackling, radio gone: "the hypnotist's daughter"

elizabeth willis address: "the witch"

jana prikryl the after party: "to tell of bodies changed"

diane seuss backyard song

alison c. rollings original [sin]

gerard malanga cornelius...cornelius gurlitt

todd boss rocket

beyza ozer to summarise a galaxy

john foy night vision: "woods"

clodagh beresford dunne ford galaxy

dorianne laux smoke: "heart"

anthony madrid like a cloud above the ravine

pascale petit swamp deer

frank o'hara maurice ravel

adonis selected poems: "desert" (tr. khaled mattawa)

sonja johanson three deer in oquossoc

melissa stein terrible blooms: "lemon and cedar"

w. s. di piero having my cards read

thomas hoagland bible study

peter campion big avalanche ravine

alberto ríos the smallest muscle in the human body: "rabbits and fire"

lena khalaf tuffaha water & salt: "mountain, stone"

josephine miles desert

jeanne murray walker invocation to convince a baby already more than twelve days overdue to come out of the womb

andrew hudgins the imagined copperhead

robert carr stargazing while sedated

mary ruefle among the musk ox people: poems: "blood soup"

jack collom red car goes by: selected poems 1955-2000: "bald eagle count"

mahmoud darwish to a young poet (tr. fady joudah)

kofi

[theunseelieif]

DEMO AVAILABLE NOW (6/22/23) // Patreon

Back home the summer before your junior year in college, you’re staying with your mother while you visit. Only there’s been rumors lately; animals dismembered, people going missing, bodies disappearing from the hospital morgue. Your small town has been turned on it’s head while you were gone.

The Unseelie is an interactive fiction novel that takes place in a small town on the coast of Maine.

You grew up the only child of a single mom who loved you dearly. Your three best friends, who’ve been with you since before elementary school, were a constant presence in your life.

Until Cam’s parents died your senior year of high school and Morgan followed them to the grave your freshman year of college. Losing two friends, one to grief and one to death, was a hard blow you thought you’d never recover from.

Now you just have Kiran, both loyal and dedicated and little bit of a troublemaker.

Returning home is dragging up old memories that are best left buried. Not to mention there’s apparently a psycho killer on the loose.

Should be an interesting summer, at least.

Create your character. Customize gender (full customization, including trans MCs), pronouns, and appearance.

Story based over stat based.

Romance any of the ten romance options or the eight poly routes. Or the four person polycule route!

The poly routes are Morgan & Kiran, Camilo/Camila & Kiran, Camilo/Camila & Morgan, Kiran & Auberon/Aubera, Ryn & Kendall, Rei & Kendall, Rei & Josie, and Ryn & Auberon/Aubera.

The Polycule is Kiran, Morgan, and Camilo/Camila.

Become a vampire or a werewolf. You’re an odd one despite your species, unfortunately.

Kiran Patel, he/him or she/her, a human. Your best friend. Currently a junior in college, just like you. Has stuck by your side through everything, even food poisoning after you both ate gas station sushi on a road trip.

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Camilo/Camila Ramos, he/him or she/her, a human. You've grown apart since their parents died, followed shortly after by your shared best friend Morgan. They still care, though, despite the distance. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

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Ryn Cooper, he/him or she/her, a witch. They’re rather eccentric, even for a witch, and have an ego to match all their skill. They saved your life, though, and might continue to do so.

Profile

Josephine “Josie” Ellington, she/they, a vampire. Leader of your local vampire coven. Ruthlessly efficient, she cares for her people better than the old windbags she replaced.

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Connor Adwell, he/him, a vampire. Josie's right hand. He doesn’t trust you, he’s made that very clear. Despite Josie’s orders, he’s determined to find out the truth behind your mystery.

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Rei Suzuki, he/him or she/her, a werewolf. Alpha of the local pack. If it can even be called a pack anymore, that is. With werewolves dying left and right, Rei is desperately trying to save them.

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Kendall Bennett, he/him or she/her, a werewolf. Rei's right hand. They’ve lost more more than you can imagine, but still find it in themselves to be kind, albeit reserved. For them, it’s an act of defiance.

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Auberon/Aubera, he/him or she/her, the fae. A most unexpected water-dwelling fae. They are curious about you for all the wrong reasons.

Profile

Morgan Byrnes, he/him or she/her, dead. Your deceased lover or best friend, tragically taken from you too soon. You’ll never forget them…or will you?

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[elierlick]

Have you heard about this 1936 trans film? My friend, researcher Michael Waters, just found an incredible reel of transgender Czech runner Zdeněk Koubek (1913-1986).

The beloved track athlete transitioned in 1935 and was widely celebrated in U.S. and European media. He had several other trans male friends and even performed with Josephine Baker while touring! He went on to compete in men’s rugby in Prague.

Be sure to check out Michael’s new book, The Other Olympians, for more about his story!

[kabuki-draws]

I watched Ridley Scott's NAPOLEON yesterday and it was a complete Waterloo.

Yes, I am a big history nerd with a giant heart for movie adaptation of historical topics. But when I watched NAPOLEON I sat there... and tried not to laugh. It was not only so historical inaccurate, that I wanted to cry, at the same time it was filled with cringe dialogues, red flags and terrible color grading. This whole movie made me so sad yet so angry, that I HAVE to write this review:

(Disclaimer: This review is based on my own opinion. If you enjoyed the movie, it's completely fine. Btw. in that case or if you agree with me, feel free to tell me your opinion. I would love to know!)

First of all: Don't get me wrong, the medium film has its own rules and you can't put as much historical accuracy into a big scale movie as you would into a documentary - sometimes the story needs to be altered to be a good movie. And that is fine. Even if Gladiator is a complete fictional story set in the Roman Empire, I can still enjoy this movie for what it is: A good-written story with great characters, a beautiful score and iconic scenes. With Kingdom of Heaven it's kind of the same - and while the movie cut was very inconsistent, I still kind of liked it. But then the Directors Cut made it a a masterpiece for me.

Funny enough, both of these movies are made by the same person: Ridley Scott. So naturally I thought: Well, Napoleon won't be a historical accurate film, but I surely will enjoy it anyways. Well, ...no. It is not only historical incorrect, it's also a bad movie overall.

To start it short: NAPOLEON clearly lost itself in all the various topics it wanted to tell within a runtime of two and a half hours. It made the whole storytelling very weird and inconsistent, causing the problem, that the audience even loses itself in the questions of when and where. Where is that scene located? When did that happen? And then comes the question: Why is this even happening?

Ridley Scott wants to depict Napoleon as a lover, a military genius, a big political figure, a revolutionary and more. But in the end he tells all of this in the most shallow way possible, which waters down Napoleons personality traits and achievements to a series of small scenes. You never get a glimpse of the "true" Napoleon, who was described as a highly intelligent and charismatic man. In fact, you never really feel ANYTHING about him except that he was a cringe red flag in front of his wife. He just stands there, stares and has very limited dialogue scenes to get a picture of that man. What are his overall motivations? Only Josephine? If so, why is this motivation only vaguely explored?

The whole love story between him and Josephine feels so unnatural and got to the brink of being disgusting. This is particularly sad because I deeply respect Vanessa Kirby and Joaquin Phoenix, they're both stunning actors. I don't know if they just couldn't fit the role or if it was rather a problem of the script (the last one is my guess). Yet whenever I saw Josephine and Napoleon on screen, I felt like acted very stiff and forced. Napoleon seemed more obsessed with her than actual love and that can be a character trait, but there wasn't a chance to explore that deeper. Before the movie entered the cinema, the lovestory between these two was marketed as intense, obsessive, deeper than you could imagine. What the audience got was a few scenes without real conversation, much staring and a bunch of cringeworthy s-scenes. And seriously, these "sexy" scene were the worst. I was so disgusted by them because they were SO DAMN WEIRD. There are no scenes that undermine ANY deep love between Josephine and Napoleon. It felt therefore so off, when they still longed for each other after their divorce.

And let's not start to ramble about the fact that they depicted Josephine ONLY in a somehow sexual way. Yeah, there is that scene where she says to Napoleon, that he is nothing without her. BUT SHOW, DON´T TELL! You never see her doing something instead of sitting there, talking with others or when the plot needs her to have sexy time with someone (not only Napoleon). As a woman myself this makes me so freaking furious, you have no idea. I don't need a marvel-coded super-strong woman with unlimited talents - I just need a female character that is written GOOD and plausible! Make me CARE for her plot and for the plot of Napoleon! Both of them don't even feel like normal human beings because they're like blank pieces of paper with their names written on it!

And don´t make me start to talk about the historical inaccuracies. At first I didn't want to draw that card. Actually, I don't need a historical movie to present 100% facts. If the movie is still enjoyable, it's okey. But even if many people say that the war scenes were awesome, I can only partly agree. Yeah, we have that cool ice-lake Austerlitz battle, but it took me a couple of minutes and a better look on the uniforms to know that Napoleon is now at war with Austria! You get nearly ZERO context to Napoleons battles. Yeah, nice, the scenes look cool - but there is nothing more to it? Is that all you need to show for the audience to care? For me at least, I just didn't care at all and I was very happy when I got out of the cinema. Overall this movie is full of messy non-sense choices that don't contribute to the story. Many moments just confused me and it left me with the question why Scott couldn't simply hire some historians to put together a consistent story. Everyone who read about Napoleons life knows that there are so much cinema worthy moments in his career that would've been so much better than what we now got.

I could ramble about that movie for hours if I´m honest, but I hope this little TED talk was enough to make my statement clear.

In the end, it just makes me sad. I wanted to like this movie, I wanted it to be good. For months I hyped myself up to this, read books about Napoleon, watched the trailer all over and over and talked with friends about how great this movie will be. Now I am just disappointed and frustrated. Oppenheimer was such a great biopic of a historical person that became a great success at the box office - even without great battle scenes. I hoped that Napoleon would push a cinema revolution, that shows people want big scaled films about historical personalities and history topics. But now I just want to forget this Napoleon movie to be honest.

[hotvintagepoll]

this is a poll for a movie that doesn't exist.

It is vintage times. The powers that be have decided to again remake the classic vampire novel Dracula for the screen. in an amazing show of inter-studio solidarity, Hollywood’s most elite hotties are up for the starring roles. the producers know whoever they cast will greatly impact the genre, quality, and tone of the finished film, so they are turning to their wisest voices for guidance.

you are the new casting director for this star-studded epic. choose your players wisely.

Previously cast:

Jonathan Harker—Jimmy Stewart

The Old Woman—Martita Hunt

Count Dracula—Gloria Holden

Mina Murray—Setsuko Hara

Lucy Westenra—Judy Garland

The Three Voluptuous Women—Betty Grable, Marilyn Monroe, and Lauren Bacall

The Agonized Mother—Mary Philbin

Dr. Jack Seward—Vincent Price

Quincey P. Morris—Toshiro Mifune

Arthur Holmwood—Sidney Poitier

R.M. Renfield—Conrad Veidt

The Captain of the Demeter—Omar Sharif

The First Mate of the Demeter—Leonard Nimoy

Mr. Swales—Ed Wynn

The Correspondent for The Daily Graph—Ethel Waters

Dracula in dog form—Frank Oz with a puppet

Sister Agatha—Angela Lansbury

[malrie]

for: @jasipereo, who told me i should what: in the burning maze, apparently they fly off together after jason dies and nothing happens at all. this is the nothing. wc: 1700

-

Piper had grown out her hair since Leo saw her last. He touched the ends of it, feeling the familiar softness between his fingers.

“Did you get taller?” she asked, voice strained from having cried so much. He didn’t see her expression; she was sitting in front of him on Festus, facing only the white sky. 

“I dunno,” he said, because he didn’t. Time was strange in that other place. To him, he’d been gone for only a moment. As if he hadn’t been lost at all.

She leaned backwards. Without having to ask, Leo let the internal heat from his body migrate to her. They were just below plane altitude, maybe four or five miles in the air. It was cold, but he wouldn’t let her be.

Had Piper not been there, Leo would have pried the casket open and crawled inside to lie beside him. He was sure of it. The instinct was nonsensical, even desperate, and still it pulled him like water down a drain. He wanted to see him again. He wanted to see him with his eyes closed, as though he were only asleep. And Jason had always been a peaceful sleeper. 

Back then, Piper’s iron grip on his forearm had anchored him. Maybe she felt the urge, too. Maybe they could have all fit inside. There, they could have dreamt as one, having found peace in a place where nothing could tear them apart. Together again.

“You did,” she replied. “Get taller, I mean. Just a little.”

*

Piper had a room in her grandpa’s ranch house that she hadn’t used since she was eleven. Leo inspected the off-white lace curtains, the stuffed animals on the bookshelves. She had a pink CD player and a Hello Kitty pillowcase. It was strange to be confronted with the idea that she had lived a life before him.

He helped her unpack what little she brought with her. Downstairs, Leo heard Coach’s booming timbre, comforting in its own way. He and Mellie would stay in the guest room with Chuck, leaving Leo to fend for himself in the den.

“What’re you gonna do now?” asked Piper, folding shirts and sorting them in a dresser.

Leo laid on her carpet, eyeing the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck on the ceiling. “Calypso wants to enroll in school. I tried telling her secondary education was a shithole, but she wanted to experience it herself. As for me, I’m never going back. S’one of the conditions I made for living at the Waystation.”

Piper paused in her folding. Then she started up again on a pile of sweaters. She lingered on a blue one that read: Edgarton Day and Boarding School. 

“I’m starting Tahlequah High next week,” she said. 

“I’ll be sure to make your grad party, beauty queen.”

He figured. Piper liked school enough; he knew she never missed an assignment at Wilderness. Meanwhile, Leo turned every packet he got into paper planes, letting them ride the Nevada gust out his dormitory window.

“If you’re not finishing school,” she continued, “what’ll you do? Help Hemithea and Josephine?”

“That’s sorta the plan.” Leo rubbed his eyes. The stars were too old to hold any glow. “I guess… I guess I just want something to keep busy. Maybe teach shop for the kids for however long. After that, I don’t know. Being in one place too long… I’m not real good at that.”

“So no camp?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “No, no camp. You?”

“No,” Piper said, then laughed along with him.

He knew she didn’t mean she hated either camp, their friends, or their community—they only needed distance, measured and in moderation. Jason was everywhere, after all. His lifeblood was camp legacy. In a way, that was what had taken him from them. The gods had owed Jason ten times over and this was how he was repaid. There was nothing for Leo there, least of all loyalty. It seemed Piper felt the same, even if only mirroring an inch of his resentment. 

They ate dinner. Tristan still had some lost pallor, but his charisma was hard to chip at, especially when his daughter needed him. Toothless Chuck gummed around a piece of squash while the rest of them ate a meal cooked by a friend of the family. People had been in and out of the house all day; their fridge was stocked for the entire week. The McLeans had roots here. They were loved and welcomed. Leo and Piper had stayed inside her room like homebodies until the visitors had all left.

While Mellie put Chuck down for bed, Tristan and Coach cleared the table and washed the dishes. Piper told Leo that they’d probably go out on the porch and smoke some of her grandad’s tobacco pipes once they were done, a vice her dad failed to keep secret from her.

Snickering, they imagined Coach hacking a lung while ambling upstairs to her grandpa’s study. Her grandfather kept books on topics that ranged from Indigenous history to psychology to science fiction. Aside from the collection, there was a desk with a swivel chair and a large claw-footed single-seater sofa in the corner of the room, just by the window.

Leo grabbed a book off the shelf just for the fun of it and plopped down on the sofa. The words swam around on the pages. Even if he could read it, he doubted he could parse analytical biochemistry jargon.

“I used to come up here when Grandpa was doing his lesson plans,” said Piper. Tom McLean was a structural biology professor. “I’d beg for him to play with me, but he’d just say, ‘My love, you cannot have what you want the instant you desire it.’ I liked that. Not even then was it easy for people to say no to me. He was the only one.”

Looking out the window, Leo saw the shine of Festus’s wings in the darkness. The dragon was hunkered down in the yard, closest to sleep as automatons could get.

“I’ll leave in the morning,” Leo said. He rested his gaze on the horizon, which bled into the night. “Calypso’s waiting for me.”

“I know.” Piper came over to him, gently pulling the textbook away from his grasp. It forced him to look at her.

A beat passed. “I’m sorry, Piper. About Jason.”

She smiled wryly, placing Clinical Biochemistry: Techniques and Instrumentation onto the side table. She asked, “Why are you saying sorry to me?”

He wasn’t sure what she meant by that. She stood over him, the moonlight from outside overlaying her skin like a filter, the image of an aching spector. Her face was unreadable, but tonight her eyes were one color. It was borrowed, and it was the color of his own heart: Electric blue, as vibrant as the sky once a storm had cleared. Jason.

Still standing, she raised a hand, placing it over his arm in an innocuous touch. “You loved him, too,” she said. Leo’s hackles rose, but it was true and—now that Jason was dead—harmless. “Leo, we weren’t together anymore. I broke up with him. After you died, I couldn’t… I couldn’t work it out. Work us out. Because without you, it was like… Like the lights had gone out.”

His hand grabbed her wrist, wanting to rip it away, but he couldn’t. “Wait. I-I don’t want to hear this,” he said.

If only she had never brought it up. Mellie had told him earlier in the day, with Chuck on her hip and wearing a worried frown. Piper and Jason had split some months ago. They never explained further than what they had told everyone.

“I thought,” she kept going, “that if you had come back, maybe Jason and I could have—with you… But we never got a chance.”

“Piper,” he said firmly, getting up from the seat to grab her shoulders. “You have to stop.”

“It isn’t fair. Don’t you think it isn’t fair?” Jason’s eyes watched him shake.

“I’m leaving tomorrow, at dawn. I’m moving to Indiana. I’ll come for birthdays, special days. We’ll see each other at reunions. I’ll Iris you—every day if you want! It’ll be good. Like we always were. Like we were before everything. Don’t do this, Piper.”

“You can’t stay,” she whispered. “I know because it happened to me, too. It hurt to be with him because you weren’t there. And I know what you see when you look at me. What color are my eyes, Leo? Whose are they? He used to see yours.”

It had to happen, just once, even if never again for the rest of their lives. It wasn’t even their first kiss, which had happened a lifetime ago, on some forgettable rooftop in a place that never loved them. He shivered a little as her hands came up to his neck. There was salt in his mouth from her tears. Piper made small noises, gasping in increments when they could bear parting. They tumbled back to a bookshelf, hard edges jutting against Leo’s spine.

It was important that he was the one to speak first. Not because he didn’t trust her not to compel him, but to prove that he knew she wouldn’t. Not for this.

“I’ll leave in the morning,” repeated Leo, thumb rolling down her jaw. “That’s hours away.”

*

Leo got up before the sun did. Oklahoma mornings were crisp and new, almost impossibly so. The fog in the distance cleared around the McLean property, grass dewing with small beads of fresh water. Standing on the porch now, Leo knew this could be a good home, one filled with love.

Tristan McLean saw him come out of Piper’s room. He didn’t react much, only telling him to be safe on his journey back. He’d also shaken his hand like a real man and said, “She’s stronger than I’d ever hoped.”

“Stronger than me,” Leo replied, smiling.

Seeing him, Festus crooned in happy creaks, shaking out his stiffness. As Leo took off, he saw the curtains in Piper’s window move, almost nothing. Just in case, he brought up his hand to wave goodbye.