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mariamonstrike · 2 years ago

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The murder of women in Woonsocket, Rhode Island and Stuart, Florida, took place, at least in time, close to one another. In both cases, women who were sex workers were murdered. In Woonsocket, the women were dismembered. I knew a person who was murdered in Rhode Island, Christine Dumont, having met her while visiting a drug rehabilitation housing unit for women. That Christine’s body ended in the massive Central Landfill in Johnston, Rhode Island and cannot be found is traumatic to the extreme. In Florida, the bodies of two of the victims were dumped only a few hundred yards from where my wife and I once owned a condo. I don’t know if it was a coincidence, but the proximity in time of these murders and the fact that I knew one of the murdered women was shocking in the extreme!

Only traces of fluids from the murdered women could be found from any of the Woonsocket women linked to killer Jeffrey Mailhot.

When Rex Heuermann was recently arrested and charged with the alleged murder of three sex workers on Long Island, the sameness of the themes of misogyny and an insane desire to enforce some sort of perverse moral code on innocent people were inescapable. The psychopathology of these murderers may have been different, but these men knew what they were doing during the planning, execution, and follow-up of these murders. The murderers went about their lives following their heinous acts.

In both Woonsocket and Long Island, police were slow to respond to the killings and exhibited a less than professional regard for the women killed. As years passed, the police investigation became more professional.

In “An Ordinary Guy,” (Rhode Island Monthly, April 17, 2007), sex workers are referred to as “hookers” as reported in killer Jeffrey Mailhot’s interrogation at Woonsocket police headquarters. Perhaps it was the times and the absence of political correctness that informed that language?

“The questioning continued for another half hour. Then Lee opened a file folder and spread the pictures he’d gathered earlier across the table. There was Audrey Harris, missing sixteen months; Christine Dumont, gone almost two months; and Stacie Goulet, whose disappearance had been reported twelve days earlier. “Criminologists have sketched a demographic profile, and he fits it to a T. The typical serial killer is a white male who first takes up homicide around age thirty. The majority target strangers or near-strangers exclusively. Though a few travel about, leaving bodies here and there, most operate within a specific locale. “Beyond that, Mailhot displayed a predator’s psyche. He killed not for money or vengeance, but for the thrill of it. He snuffed out lives with his hands (never a knife or gun) to savor every moment of his victims’ suffering and fear. He preyed on a specific group — prostitutes — whom he’d come to regard as less than human. And he concealed his horrifying depravity with an unremarkable, everyday routine: He could dismember a body, toss the parts in a Dumpster, and stop for a Bud on his way home.”

Eugene McWatters killed three women in ways similar to Mailhot. He strangled three sex workers, not dismembering them as the Woonsocket killer did, and left their bodies in a drainage canal and near a homeless encampment in Stuart, Florida. The homeless encampment was within a few hundred yards of a condo I owned. McWatters was dubbed “The Salerno Strangler,” after an area of Stuart. Sentenced to death for those murders, a technicality in Florida law saw him sentenced to life in prison without parole “Salerno Stranger most recent serial killer on Treasure Coast,” (TCPalm, November 28, 2010).

Rex Heuermann (“The Polygon and the Avalanche: How the Gilgo Beach Suspect Was Found,” New York Times, July 20, 2023), the alleged Long Island serial killer, had a much different lifestyle than the Woonsocket and the Stuart serial killers. He was an architect with a wife and children and lived a middle-class life, although his Massapequa Park home was in substantial disrepair, an anomaly for that Long Island village.

While there have been many psychological profiles of Heuermann, it is a near-universal professional code within psychiatry and psychology to never evaluate a person who has not been evaluated in person. Within the media blitz about Heuermann, an interview of substantial length was conducted a few years ago in which Heuermann dispassionately discusses his work as an architect. In my opinion, the interview was poorly done and is not easily accessed on the Internet since shortly after Heuermann’s arrest.

How many additional murders are connected to Heuermann are impossible to determine at this time. One additional murder has a similarity to his alleged murders, and forensic evaluation of bodies found in the Gilgo Beach site may give up more information.

The misogyny and sense of enforcing some moral order, along with murderous behavior, are the apparent earmarks of these murders.”

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lonespektr · 2 years ago

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SEPTEMBER 29TH HORROR WATCH

Slasher: Ripper 1x1

Slasher has a new season and it's a prequel.

Slasher is exactly that with four pretty decent seasons under it's belt it's a series that's decidedly in the realm of smart slashers there's usually a point and definitely a few twists.

"Jack" is run off by a pimp who threatens jack with his own knife to stay away from hassling his girls (and boys) - he has previously injured then in the past

Jack stalked off to find another victim

A widow (the clothes are mourning) he pulls the knife

Except the widow is not prey

A very messy blood egale?

Annd a very literal scwering on a post

Fitting for a rapist sadist fuck

Detective find him carved up the pimp says he's not actually the jack just a sicko rich fuck impersonator

Good riddance everyone thinks bit the detective wants to solve a murder

The rich women relatives are in denial

We have our medical examiner doing a live surgery on a semi awake patient lol

The crowd in the theater is enthralled but she examines the corpse both ME and Detective agree it was probably a very pissed off woman

Bossman of course does not

Another cat house owner ( actual owner of a home was interviewed and now he's going down to the alley where the working girls walk

Rich landlord is harassing the sex workers and pimps

These women are trying to marry off a young sister who moved into town

This anthology series like most good ones have same actors across multiple seasons occasionally not the full cast but some actors reappear and it's always nice

Rich people Magic show classic saw in half

Killer left a clue in the body tiny scroll, actually a confession

And a clue on the next murder

"Friends of Margaret"

Uh oh 12 years ago the bossman knows something

Oooo the wife looking guilty already!! These are always hard to crack

They do a lot of red herrings

She lying though

Dead husband has kink paraphernalia in his office and weird skeleton

The rich sisters hassling the (apparent bastard daughter)

More weird kink stuff

Spanking a grown woman

Landlord sent thugs to beat on the pimp

False bottom in an office drawer

Book of newspaper murder clippings fan boy i don't think he's actually the ripper

"Margaret" was obviously a victim of the actual ripper years prior

Apparently now detective then beat cop s the first on the scene with the body

They keep showing the dancer but i don't think she did it

They killed one of the guys working girls trying to beat him up

Slasher often has the killer come face to face for a VERY long time. I guess it's classic slasher trope though

Our widow killed our pimp with the heart of gold

#graywatchhorror23 #slasher: ripper

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sonderrow-moved · 5 years ago

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LINK TO QUINN LINK TO JAEL LINK TO ROY

LIKE for a preestablished relationship/plotting line with Archer… BUT have at least one category in mind before I hop in your IMs!

I entirely get the urge of wanting to roleplay, expand our muses together, and this is my personal starting pack for Archer! If you’re hooked to one category but don’t think your muse can fit still HMU about it and I’ll see how we can work that out!

REMINDER I HAVE A LOT OF THREADS. Like often a lot. Roleplaying is something that effortlessly really relaxes me, but I am still one human. I like to see all my threads through no matter how long the wait is and do my best ! Thus we might not be threading right off the bat depending on how much stuff I have, but everything established can get into asks, dash shenanigans, etc. What matters is that it shapes our characters. 🙏

BUSINESS PEERS. Archer’s professional and very efficient work ethic made him notorious in unspoken matters as someone who will get things done with no needs of public recognition… which would lead to inner, private and ultimately more treasured recognition. He used to have clients, partners and met a lot of others at parties he went frequently to, mostly charity parties often disguised as business ones. Those partners may have known his father, maybe his grandfather, or maybe they’re fresh right out the bat, maybe the Kessler company sought them, maybe your muse’s company sought them and you stumbled upon him. Mind you that Archer has made the scandalous decision to sell the majority of his actions towards the company and doesn’t get more involved than necessary with its activities. This profile fits to every muse high enough in the business ranks to meet Archer; at least chief of a team in a department. It’s all about title. Do be reminded that the Kessler company is known to have an illegal and scandalous history as of NOW and that a lawful good muse would probably not want to be associated with it, or any muse wanting to go legal.

LEGAL WORKERS. With the horribly enormous pile of cases Archer’s been involved with, he needs a lawyer cabinet to back him and his business. Multiple ones. Maybe it is a genuinely crooked one, or a blindly optimistic one who believes his claims of innocence and being against the world, maybe the whole cabinet is broken and as a newly employed lawyer you are still too innocent until you notice. Law enforcers and government representatives knows how much Archer is guilty (or not), making him infamous in their ranks as one of those irritating cases where the system doesn’t seem to work. For muses working in the justice system, on any side, from judge to prison guard.

“FRIENDS”. Archer lost all of his friends when he was accused and imprisoned. He would have done the same thing; every one who was still linked by friendship to him risked everything. You’re one of those, because you’re not an idiot… or maybe you are and you did lose everything to keep your integrity. Or maybe you really were too stupid and loyal and believed Archer did nothing. This applies to particular muses who can fit in a scenario like this. Although for the sake of social standing Archer could “befriend�� quite some people, he had a particular preference towards artists and introverted yet talented minds who had lots of potential, wanting to make them grow.

CRIMINALS. Con artists, mafiosos, yakuzas, drug dealers, maybe assassins, thieves, hackers, corrupted law enforcement agents, rich guys with illegal fetishes… Archer has dealt at least with all of them at least once. As a “cleaner” before he finally sat down on the CEO chair, Archer was the one who by circumstances became known for his professionalism, cool head and ability to erase any evidence from even the most alarming and need-to-be-quickly-done situation. Even a killer who does so as a hobby or for personal gain would eventually be caught as he goes on, unless he can take a contract or too, and have him give a helping hand in exchange for secrecy. This applies to muses with at least a medium-ranked profile in the underground (so no simple alley drug dealer unless plotted).

ENTERTAINERS & SEX WORKERS. Given how Archer sees sex as being an extremely powerful tool, he often got around the latter, choosing carefully which escort he’ll personally put at his services. Archer kept the best ones at hand, to please contacts and clients. He respects them for their work, but he wanted professionalism from you and not cry if you got almost cut in half after a night. Although he stepped down from his CEO position, Archer was pushed into his sire’s hotel line, which secretly dealt with human trafficking and prostitution. With his experience, he slowly is coming back and is moving all his contacts over there, wanting to change his approach. Despite the need of running a very real business, he cannot ignore the amount of work his sire’s illegal business brings. This profile fills every muse working in the sex business outside camshows and movies. They don’t have to be the ones close to Archer.

VICTIM(S). Archer is a very high-rated criminal. Although he has only been found guilty of extortion, corruption, blackmailing, piracy and other business-linked crimes, he was accused but not found guilty of sequestration, serial murder, serial rape, torture, committing indignity to a body, publishing obscene material, harassment, insert lots of other legal terms surrounding this. Accusations which have been highly mediatized given how high profile he was at the time, him being used as a scapegoat and the scandal only worsened when it was said it was both on minors and adults. I won’t get too much on what the truth is, but if you’d like your muse to be victim of Archer’s real crime(s), do hit me up I’ll be very selective on this given it’s important to his background story. This profile would fit highly disturbed muse, hobos, prostitutes, people living in very poor districts, pretty much people who have the perfect victim profile. OR it can also be other businessmen, common people, those who would have their life ruined indirectly or directly any organization Archer was or is involved with, the most common being as putting you in debt with the mafia knocking at your door to kill you, break your legs or torture someone you love until you give them what they want.

NEAR THE VICTIM(S). There are suspicions your friend/lover/brother/whatever was done wrong because of Archer. Maybe you’re the one who pressed charges. Maybe it’s not you, but in some way you were involved indirectly in the scandal and it did something to you and you have your own opinion on it. Maybe you seek where Archer is to kill him, maybe just talk to him and understand… something.This profile fits a muse who has lost someone close to them in suspicious circumstances.

PARTNER IN CRIME. You were there and you liked every bit of it probably (or if not you’re surely dead). VERY SELECTIVE. This profile fits muse with probable sociopathic and/or psychopathic tendencies who knows their way across the most fucked-up places of the underworld.

OBSESSION. High profile criminals with atrocious records are known to, sadly, have, yes,fans. Your muse believes that Archer did most of what he was accused for, choose to your discretion. Maybe they wanted to visit him, maybe they sent him gifts and mails, maybe they were already almost obsessed with him BEFORE he was accused given his bit of a disturbed but extremely charismatic and successful behavior and just FELL more as he was sequestrated. This profile fits muse going to the simple nerd with morbid curiosity to the very intense stalker.

MATCHMAKING. Since his teens, Archer has met multiple people for a potential marriage; the woman in question and the relatives that accompany her. And… when bored, his sister has the nasty habit of wanting to play matchmaker with him; Archer may not be the best person, but he’d hate to not make up to someone his hell of a relative tricked. Self explanatory. Archer’s sister, Eve (Everleigh), is owner of two modern galleries, so single people susceptible to befriend her could fall into that trap.

SCHOOL FACES. Archer cut next to every tie which couldn’t help in business after he graduated from university. It was brutal and without much warning although given how he was drawn to his duty, nobody was surprised. Archer got schooled at home as a child after becoming a depressed before going to a rich high-end private school. Afterwards, he became a star tennis player and the moral support of the team. He was also the president of a literature club where he was able to bond a bit with nerds and was known to tutors younger kids he believed had potential to help his reputation or parents who had power to help his family. Archer was mostly loved by everyone, but still bullied the weak or didn’t hesitate to stomp on other to raise himself higher. Victims of his young impulses, partner or rival in the tennis court, maybe the librarian, maybe a classmate, maybe someone from another school who always saw him and wanted to know him. This profile fits muses that Archer would not talk to unless he knew them from the past. Mostly younger muses that leads a life that has nothing to do with his work. RP can be during his younger years or simply skipped to the main verse.

MEALS. As a vampire, Archer consolidated his hypnotic powers and feeding, starting to leave some preys alive, but dazed and forgetful at times. On top of the numbness and blinding aphrodisiac the poison in his biting provides, he is able to leave the impression like their meeting was a dream; victims will remember vaguely his face, voice or other depending on characters, but not remember the feeding. However, willing and loyal ones may even befriend Archer, who finds consenting people much easier to deal with than laying bodies and sudden disappearances. This profile fits grey morale muses, ones who loves the supernatural, masochists, etc. who’d trade their blood and silence in exchange of being around a vampire. Archer only feeds on females if they ask directly for it or if there is nothing else, highly preferring to feed on males, which is linked to his sexual preferences.

RED LIGHT DISTRICT. Archer has become a prominent figure of the red light district; as the one guy who owned everything (which is not true, but blown out of proportions). Due to the forceful, ruthless and undeniably lustful reputation his sire has, being the envoy puts him in a powerful position where the line between him and the one who turned him might blur to others, as if they were the same person. Anything new in the district goes through him and pros and cons are weighted for healthy competition. Outside the hotels and their affiliated businesses, Archer personally owns two bars; one is lounge gay bar and the other one of the same style, only for the supernaturals of every shape and form, with products to cater their needs. Both are actually places made to cater to his difficult and high maintenance taste; if you cannot find it, do it yourself. Those bars include their own staff, which he selects himself to make sure nobody he would find inappropriate works under his image. As for the hotel line itself, it includes its own staff, administration, underground administration and staff, restaurant staff and entertainment staff for diverse shows and parties thrown. This profile fits any muse which would frequent the red light district, from newcomers to others looking for a job, frequent visitors and owners of businesses. From the woman who runs an escort club with a heart of steel to the bartender who just wants to pay his education fees to the security guard who has nightmare about the noises he hears behind closed doors.

HITMEN. You were paid to fuck with him, but thing is it’s pretty complicated. This profile is picky since obviously the attempt is going to fail and you cannot always RP back and forth attempts. This would be nearly a comical bond with a need to plot a resolution depending on your muse!

SUBMISSIVES. Archer’s history as a dom was… infamous. Long story short, he was known to be good, but dangerous. With a more stable mind he wouldn’t mind going back to one of his favorite hobbies. The deal is simple; he owns the person obviously, no penetration sex, no deep kissing, no romance (which doesn’t mean no affection or love) and not to start screaming about it on the streets. Although he wouldn’t mind so much now to play by the rules, if allowed Archer will become ruthless, enjoying giving permanent marks on others and inflict gradually harsher punishments or rewards. This profile fits, well, masochists and submissives people, from any form and shape really (a victim is a victim) who are willing to give their body for a mutual game, be they be paying Archer or not. Very selective… because Archer is difficult. The way he treats your muse can be from pretty sweet to downward harsh… entirely depends on what degree he finds your muse attractive. Beware scars and broken parts. Sessions can last from one evening to a whole weekend.

MISC.I’ll add more when I think of them! DO THROW ME YOUR IDEAS LET’S GO.

Like with any interaction, relationships are officially in the singleverse timeline if it is roleplayed to a minimum extensively. Looking forwards to write with you!

#preest #long post #.saved

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timeclonemike · 6 years ago

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Random Idea: “Portia” Spider-Man AU

I haven’t actually seen Into The Spiderverse myself, but I have read that it has started a trend towards people coming up with their own Spider-Man AUs. More specifically I read that there’s a lot of people lashing out against that for some reason, which I don’t get.

I also watched a walkthrough of the PS4 game, which actually motivated me to work on a completely different project.

I might as well state right now that I do not have an encyclopedic knowledge of Spider-Man in particular, or the Marvel multiverse in general, much less the exponentially greater possibilities that come from a huge fan base. To the best of my limited knowledge, I don’t think I’m treading on anyone’s toes, and if it turns out somebody had the same ideas before me and reads this, I promise I’m not trying to steal your thunder.

The Origin: Pyotr “Peter” Parker is second generation Russian-American living in the Big Apple. He’s a scientific prodigy, and he was well on his way to getting a scholarship that would launch him to dizzying academic and technical heights when his life was demolished; his mother, father, and uncle were all killed in some sort of crossfire between different mob families. His academic performance and social life were also casualties, first from grief, and later from the impotent rage burning inside him from seeing nothing at all happen to find and punish those who had done so much harm. The kid who was on a fast track to following in the footsteps of such scientific visionaries as Tony Stark, Hank Pym, and Oswald Octavius did the bare minimum of work needed to keep his teachers and Aunt May (his only living relative) off of his back; the rest of his days and much of his nights were spent in an angry haze of revenge-based daydreams and fantasies.

The Transformation: Peter does not remember exactly how, but one morning he woke up with a painfully swollen spider bite. After a day or so, the swelling went away, but it was replaced by other “symptoms” that were decidedly more permanent. In no particular order, he could stick to various surfaces, detect motion nearby, and found that his strength and agility were dramatically increased. Most dramatic of all, he could jump much, much farther than any human being had any business jumping. To an angsty, hormonal teenager who had fumed and raged inwardly as he watched the injustice perpetrated on his family go unpunished for years, it was like Christmas morning. (It was actually Arbor Day, but that’s not really important.) With barely enough sense to get gloves, a ski mask, and goggles to hide his identity, he set out to to do by himself what the police and the courts could not, or would not, do through proper channels.

The Defeat: Superpowers or not, a teenager is not a match for multiple, competing organized crime families. Peter was shot four times, twice in the left leg, once in the right shoulder, and one glancing blow to the skull that would have punched his clock if not for his Spider-Sense based reflexes. With a concussion, a leg that couldn’t support his weight, and a whole lot of lost blood, Peter was forced to back off to some place safe, call 911, and nearly collapse right after tossing his “costume” in the closest dumpster. Emergency surgery and a blood transfusion saved his life, and while his recovery was almost miraculously fast according to the doctors and nurses keeping an eye on him, he still had to convalesce.

The Lesson: The time spent in bed, with nothing to do but mull over his defeat, forces him to reconsider what he is doing and why. He was about ready to throw all his dreams of revenge out the window and move on with his life... when the assassins showed up. After all, gunshot wounds are reported to police, and not every officer who swears to uphold the law actually keeps that oath. The assassins try to smother Peter while he pretends to be asleep; for their trouble, they get kicked with the same amount of force that previously launched Peter across streets and up the sides of buildings. Fortunately for them, they are in a hospital already. With a paranoia that has nothing to do with his new danger-detector in his head, Pete leaves the hospital without being officially discharged, makes it home, and discovers that his Aunt May ended up taking out two home invaders... and instead of the invaders being carted off, Aunt May is the one being held on trumped up charges. Peter has the consequences of his actions thrust into his face, and he angsts over his irresponsibility for all of five minutes before he has an epiphany that few Spider-themed superheroes ever figure out: Not everything bad that happens is automatically his fault.

The Comeback: While only a few days older, Peter is now much wiser, and begins a methodical plan of attack. The forces arrayed against his family cover the city like a web, but he’s learned a lot about spiders recently. Between phone calls, letters, and Duck Duck Go, Peter maps out the people he has to fight. These include a hanging judge, an attorney general living beyond her apparent means, and a couple of cops who have some black marks on other people’s social media, if not their professional records. With a new, thematically different costume, some cheap smartphones, and gadgets put together from dollar store specials and dumpster diving, Peter starts collecting evidence of corruption and leaving flash drives and SD cards in the mailboxes of the people who seem to be trustworthy. The gears of justice start to grind, while the gears of corruption have sand thrown into them. (What actually happened is that Peter found the AG was in the mob’s pocket, kidnapped her, called her “handlers” and played back some carefully edited sound bites recorded from a rival family’s conversations. Her “execution” was interrupted, but her home and worldly possessions went up in flames at the same time. She suddenly has much larger problems than she did before.)

The Arch Enemy: Aunt May’s two counts of justified self defense are properly rendered as such by a court that does not have multiple actors in somebody’s pocket. Turns out a whole lot of internal affairs investigations have opened up, and a laundry list of cold cases have been opened, in addition to the conflicts already set in motion. What keeps May and Peter safe, though, is what happens to a mover and shaker way up in the food chain (known as “Hammerhead” to his subordinates because of his shark-like ferocity). Hammerhead gets a mysterious visit from a masked figure who kicks his ass three ways from Sunday, and who lets him know that he’s taking his time to make him suffer for killing the masked figure’s brother. Three bullets are put into Hammerhead with his own sidearm, but the bullet that would have gone in the man’s skull misses, apparently because his guys finally showed up to help him. Hammerhead falls for the ruse hook, line, sinker and compressed air tank, and all the resources dedicated to finding this spider-themed vigilante get aimed in different directions, including the ones that had been sent after this Pyotr Parker kid, since he’s an only child. (The guys sent after Parker don’t have much to say, because his kicks packed a wallop and also because nobody contradicts Hammerhead when he’s angry.) This lays the foundation of a mutual hatred that lasts for the next decade at least, and “The Hammerhead versus The Spider Man” becomes a popular topic of discussion and speculation in the criminal underworld, law enforcement, civilian social media, and the hero community.

The Method: Unlike many Spider-Men, Peter isn’t explicitly an out and out hero. The last time he had ambitions of heroism, rushing in like Iron Man or Thor or Daredevil, he ended up in the hospital. To the contrary, by imitating the methods of his criminal prey, he achieved results far beyond his most optimistic predictions. In that sense, his spider-motif resembles that of the Portia Jumping Spider, a genus of spider species that hunt and prey on other spiders. His powers reflect this, with his impressive jumping abilities. Also like the Portia spiders, Peter stalks his prey and studies their strengths and weaknesses before developing the perfect way to take them down. Sometimes this comes from capturing sensitive information and delivering it to those who can do the most damage with it. Sometimes this means a more immediate response, like a kick that can ruin somebody’s whole day plus the rest of the week. What really sets Peter apart, though, is the “criminal” empire that he is growing using the resources he steals from his targets. Granted, his “Drug Labs” are churning out generic insulin at affordable prices, but it’s the principle of the thing. Likewise, the sex workers and street walkers in Spider-Man’s “territory” have seen a massive drop in violence once he cornered a particularly belligerent john in an alley and mentioned that a lot of male spiders have their sex organ bitten off by the female.

The Gadgets: Unlike most, if not all, Spider-Men in the multiverse, Peter never came up with the idea of web-shooters or web fluid. He has a number of other tricks up his sleeve, sometimes literally, that fill the vacuum when it comes to mobility, combat, and controlling the combat environment. The most complex of these would have to be his costume, which also diverges dramatically from what other Spider Themed Heroes use, in that it is designed to blend in rather than stand out. The basic suit color scheme is a grey-green mixture that’s hard to see under low-light conditions, and Peter has a number of optional “urban ghillie suits” that can look like grey concrete, brick, rusted steel, or other patterns. He’s also been known to take his enemy’s clothing, but it’s not clear how much of this is intended to help him infiltrate them and turn them on each other and how much of it is just humiliating his defeated foes. His mask incorporates multiple vision enhancement devices, from light amplification to infra-red to sonar and radar, and these give him a multi-eyed appearance in keeping with the spider theme. Defensively and offensively, he has arm-mounted weapons that incorporate compressed air guns that can fire chemical darts at range, and provide a close-range electrical charge to incapacitate people in close combat. (In the early days he carried a literal dart gun and stun gun but kept losing them during fights.) Finally, he carries a small arsenal of counter-intelligence tools designed to let him eavesdrop on targets, clone their cell phones, break into secure areas without leaving signs of forced entry, and jam or intercept enemy communications. All of them are incorporated into his suit. He has ambitions of getting an Octavius Harness, since extra arms would complete the spider motif and also make him far more dangerous in combat, but he can’t afford it and he’s years away from learning how to jailbreak the safety features that Doctor Octavius put on his technology to keep it from being stolen.

The Cover: When he’s not making life interesting for the criminal underworld of New York City, Peter works as a photographer. He’s done contract work for the Daily Bugle, including the occasional shot of this Spider Man character, but most of his income is from people needing photographs of their belongings for insurance reasons. After all, this is a world where superheroes and supervillains go toe-to-toe at least twice a week. He’s done weddings, Bar Mitzvahs, graduations, family reunions, anniversaries, baby gender reveal parties, and more. He’s also done some stuff that would normally be within the purview of a private investigator, despite the legal risks, in order to make ends meet. His social circle is limited to a handful of people who still tolerated him when he was lashing out at the world as a teenager, which is basically a handful of former classmates that have moved on to college, trade school, or something else, especially Miles Morales (who also lost family at a young age), Felicia Hardy, and Eddie Brock. His dating life is non-existant despite multiple attempts by both Eddie and Miles to play matchmaker.

The Rogue’s Gallery: The Spider Man has a long standing antagonism with Hammerhead, but has occasionally faced off against other supervillains and even some superheroes. On the villain side, Peter has defeated an electricity controlling lunatic named Electro, some guy in a rocket assisted flight suit the press called the Vulture, the enigmatic and theatrical Mysterio, and some one or something called the Sand Man. Unfortunately, Peter beat the Sand Man by fusing him into glass, and was not able to pull off the same stunt twice. The former Sand Man, calling himself Vitreous, had to be stopped by the Avengers, and The Spider Man’s role in the creation of a much more dangerous villain is what got him on the radar of so many heroes in the first place. For the most part, he knows he’s outclassed and doesn’t really want to fight people who, in theory, have the same general goals, so he tends to run from these encounters. So far he’s managed to evade Iron Man, Hawkeye, and Oswald Octavius in his superhero alter ego of Doctor Octopus. His encounter with Loki resulted in Peter getting the upper hand in classic trickster legend style, earning the God of Mischief’s respect. In other cases, Peter has not been so lucky; while he managed to escape each time, he’s been almost crushed to death by Giant Man, beaten to a pulp by Captain America, and drop kicked into the East River by the Hulk as if he was some sort of football. He has technically never fought Dr. Strange, but was involved in a fracas between the Sorcerer Supreme, Deadpool, and Dr. Doom that resulted in the Eye of Agomotto being lost for five years; everyone involved has agreed to never speak of what happened again. Finally, there’s the matter of Sean Gargan, an aspiring superhero with Scorpion themed powers who has sworn to bring The Spider Man to justice after his father, Mac Gargan, was injured while The Spider Man was fighting Electro.

#spiderman #spiderverse #AU #Portia Spider

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mallyvu · 7 years ago

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#MeToo: A letter to my monster

This was painful to write, but if we begin to address the root of our problems, we can finally begin to heal. I hope to use stories to bridge division in the world, but first I have to bridge my own division…

…..

Dear Dad,

When I was seven, do you remember saying, “I’ll kill you if you say a word,” and then performing oral sex on me? You were unemployed and sleeping in a separate room from Mom. You guys argued a lot then. I remember you wrote LIFE SUCKS on our living room calendar. I didn’t know what would happen to our family, so I silenced my needs.

My most vivid childhood memories come from this time. You were regularly inviting me to sleep with you. Mom said I had to obey because if I didn’t, we wouldn’t have you and your income. The stakes were higher since you weren’t my “real” dad, she said. I guess money excused a sense of decency in this household. It never mattered if I said no or fought you off, you grew in persistence. It became a nightly thing. Each time you came for me I’d closed my eyes and wished for it to be over. I told Mom in the beginning. She asked you to stop, but nothing changed except the threats just got worse. Eventually you started doing it out in the open, especially when you got drunk.

That one long car ride home when you fingered me the entire ride after you had gotten drunk (it felt like 3 hours) even though there were other people in the car...I remember you used my red Ecko jacket to conceal what you were doing to me. At the end of that car ride, my clitoris, which I didn’t even know the name of yet, was so sore I wanted to cut it off. I hated that I had to pretend to be your daughter. I hated being a girl. I hated everything about myself and my life.

That one time my older brother was sleeping on the couch and you didn’t notice. You grabbed me, lifted up my shirt, and started sucking on my nipples. I was 8 then and didn’t wear training bras yet. My brother woke up and just turned away. I wished for him to say something, maybe “what are you doing to my sister?” But I knew this was my reality.

When I was 11, Mom was gone for a month to visit her dying mother in Vietnam. That month was the worst month of my life. You preyed on me every night. Each night you entered my room while everyone else was sleeping and you’d suck on my nipples, play with my clitoris–explore your curiosity. I would lock my door just for you to pry it open without a second thought.

I think it was my 7th grade math teacher who sent the social worker to check in on us. I told her I had no one to take me to get school supplies. She asked me if everything was OK at home but I just nodded. I was afraid of you and I guess it came across at school. I wanted to tell the social worker when she visited, but what would telling her do? You were a monster in hiding. You’d lie as you have been to Mom the past five years.

Around this time was when I began cutting myself. I didn’t know other kids were doing it too. I just needed an outlet. When I started high school, I never came home. I started dating and became ashamed of my scars. As I got older, I realized I was ashamed of myself altogether. I couldn’t fully be myself but I didn’t know what to do about it. I counted the days until college where I could support myself on my own and be as far away from you as possible.

When I was about to graduate college, you suffered two strokes. I moved two states over to be with you and the family. In retrospect, I did it because I was afraid. The daily reminder of how much you’ve hurt me was not as unbearable as the thought of not having the chance to reconcile with you.

It’s taken me three years–three very hard, suicidal years–to realize that if everything around you doesn’t push you to be a better person for yourself, your loved ones, and the world, you’re just living in complacency. And complacency is poison. Anyone who lives in their comfort zone is sure to rot before they leave this earth. That was me before now. I spent a long time trying to find my own comfort, but it kept eluding me. Then something changed in me and the suicidal thoughts started to fade. Part of my transformation has healed me because comfort has never been there for me, but resolve and drive have. I have always found a way through, and not a way out of, life’s messes. I’ve always seen the good in people even when they do bad things.

Many times in my life I wished for you to die, but now I wish for you to heal just as I have...to find peace and to fully live life beyond your comfort zone, to become the good man and loving father, and grandfather, I know you can be. In wishing that for you, I have begun to reconcile with myself, and heal.

With Love, Your daughter

#me too campaign #me too #from my brain #spilled ink #spilled thoughts

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mama2jaxy-blog · 7 years ago

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Humble.

Boys with good looks. All the right words to say. The money. Popularity. Well mannered and parents approval. Turns into an ugly heart. Lies and manipulation. Controlling my money. People not knowing the real boy. Choosing who he is around specific people and parents eventually seeing through him. This was my life, well, just a tad bit of it for the past couple years. I ran into an old high school classmate at a local baseball game in the summer of 2016. We talked and caught up for a bit, which turned into us hanging out more often. We kissed, big deal. We fell in love, okay. We had sex, oh well. This guy became my boyfriend before I could even blink my eyes.

He got kicked out a couple months later down the road, so we moved into an apartment together. I had no clue what I was getting myself into. This girl who had the greatest dad a girl could ask for, raised in church her whole life, sweet and innocent, came across as a weak maggot to be preyed on. We signed our names on the lease in a town called Tipp City in Ohio. No bed, no pots or pans, no toilet paper, no money for heat- thank the Lord we had each other though, right? Within a month of living together, I was grabbed by the throat, ordered to stay home for the night. I was not allowed to leave the apartment. How dare he be forced to eat all alone... A couple days pass by and I’m left traumatized after what had just happened. This boy... grabbed my throat. He hurt me. He hurt me because I tried to leave to babysit for the night. He had nobody to join him for dinner. Poor him. He was at work on a cold December morning, and I packed my things and moved back to my parents without saying a word to him. He came home to an empty apartment.

Cutting off all forms of communication trying to keep my distance, knowing how narcissists work, manipulating their victim back into the arms as they appear warm and welcoming... Promising to change and needing my help, he pulled out the old fashioned e-mail and welcomed me back into his arms. His arms that were supposed to be comforting and lifting. Breaking my parents hearts, I packed my things back up again and moved back to the apartment in Tipp City, Ohio. I was pregnant. A few months of pure contentment go by, until the death of my best friend occurred. I was heartbroken, needing someone for guidance and comfort. Expecting him to be my companion during this time, he became my worst enemy. Taking all my pain and placing it on him, displaying himself as the one needing the comforting, I was to him what I needed for me.

Springtime of 2017 rolls up, and I’m getting kicked out of the apartment. My home. My comfort. He tried to make it appear as though it was for a surprise for my birthday, that he’d take me to the zoo in a week and everything was okay. I refused, begged to stay. Something didn’t feel right. Threats and yelling and name calling happened, so I packed my bags and hauled them around a few nights... four and a half months pregnant. The next day, he called me. He wanted me back home. He was crying. He missed me. I went home to him.

My birthday, a week later, came. No trip to the zoo. No gifts. Me driving my car. Him working on his truck. My money, his preferences. Rain. Storms. Panic. Anxiety brings fear, and fear brings crying. “I hope our kid is nothing like you,” he said to me as we approached home, after he had been driving my car reckless on the slippery highways. I walked inside and began packing my bags, expecting to be kicked out and hoping to stay with a friend that night. He grabbed my throat. Again. Choking, coughing, gasping for air. Suffocating. My love. My only hope. I took it in. Happy birthday.

Days and nights pass by, he’s not home. He’s staying with a friend who lives out of town, he’d say. Sleeping alone became normal for me again. Eating alone was interesting, as he controlled our money, leaving none for a five month pregnant woman to eat off of. Starving. Alone. Cold. Scared. “It’s a boy,” the ultrasound tech said. I remember mostly the amount of joy I felt hearing about precious Jaxon growing inside of me, but I also will never forget him walking out of the room with his head down, not even acknowledging to me any ounce of joy. He was about to be a dad, raising a boy.

Months of contentment go by again. The highs being so high up, the lows being way down low. Alcohol. It brings out the things we feel deep inside. Texting other girls expressing his feelings about them, leaving me... in the dust. The lies come out. He had been cheating on me. The nights and days he left me all alone, hungry and nobody to talk to, no car for transportation, he was with another woman. He had been touching another woman’s body and coming home to touch mine. Better yet, he had another woman touching him and coming home for me to touch him. His decisions to cheat nearly killed his son and myself.

Twenty four weeks pregnant, close to an emergency cesarean section to have my son removed from my womb just to save his life. My body temperature had been up high to 103.8, causing harm to my baby and myself. Chlamydia. STD. How? He had slept with another woman, repeatedly, unsafe... How did that make him feel, knowing he almost killed me and his son from cheating? Oh, probably what he was hoping for.

Pregnancy lasts roughly nine months, some shorter, some longer. Pregnancy while being thrown around, choked out, tied down, cheated on, controlled, neglected, starving, freezing cold... Jaxon was lucky to be alive and as healthy as he was. A woman’s body goes through a lot of traumatic stress when she delivers a baby, after carrying it for nine months as well. October 1, 2017, I gave birth to my precious baby boy. I fell in love all over again with my little family. A couple weeks go by, and I’m shoved into the couch, thrown against a dryer, stabbed with a screw, and punched in the face. Please, grab my stitches a little harder, my love. Sick.

Police officers show up, arresting him, taking pictures of my face, bloodied and bruised. A cop sat on a couch feeding my three week old son while I shook uncontrollably, trembling in fear and exhaust. The next morning, an abuse worker contacted me and invited me in to chat with her about my next moves. Releasing him from jail. Court. Setting up visitation. Child support. Restraining order. Him fight against the restraining order. Domestic violence. That’s only a small portion of it all.

Having to face my abuser... my biggest fear. My worst enemy. My bravery. Share your story. Be ashamed for staying. Understand that nobody will understand. Help save lives of those going through abuse. The word “humble“ appeared in my head this morning. Humble- not arrogant, not proud. Though my story be of great survival, stay humble, my dear. Pray for your abuser. Focus on success. Stay on track. Never look back except to recognize failure and misery. To be humble in this case is difficult. But do it anyways.

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thatsnotcanonpodcasts · 5 years ago

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Chasing Cosby, QueerMuslimSexWorker, I Spy

Hello and welcome back to Castology, your weekly dose of podcast goodness. Or badness in this instance, with Liz recommending the dark must-listen podcast Chasing Cosby. You can probably guess what it's about. Then Zane offers up a one-episode-only podcast on exactly what the title says it's about: QueerMuslimSexWorker. And finally Nick gets his MI5 on with a bit of I Spy, the podcast that chats all things in the world of international espionage. Then it's review time, baby!

Liz Recommends - Chasing Cosby

https://www.latimes.com/entertainment-arts/story/2020-01-07/new-podcast-chasing-cosby-chronicles-the-rise-and-fall-of-bill-cosby

Guys, this one gets dark, so brace yourself. But also it's super important so you have to listen.

"For nearly half a century, Bill Cosby brought warmth and laughter into hearts across the country, cementing his image as “America’s Dad.” But he also led a dark, secret life preying on women. The comedian carefully coaxed each one into feeling safe and cared for, then left them to pick up the pieces of their lives. It all started with Andrea Constand. She carried the burden of being the only one of the 60-plus accusers whose case could be tried in a court of law. Now, she's telling her side of the story, along with firsthand accounts from more than a dozen survivors, jurors and prosecutors. From the Los Angeles Times, and hosted by investigative reporter Nicki Weisensee Egan, "Chasing Cosby" is the definitive take of the rise and fall of Bill Cosby. New episodes released every Tuesday."

For both: It's a serial so start at the start. Also note: ep 3 is ROUGH but important listening.

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/chasing-cosby/id1493558501

Nick Recommends - I Spy

Spies don’t talk—it’s the cardinal rule of the business. But here at Foreign Policy, we get them to open up. On I Spy, we hear from the operations people: the spies who steal secrets, who kill adversaries, who turn agents into double agents. Each episode features one spy telling the story of one operation.

For both: any of em!

https://podcasts.apple.com/au/podcast/i-spy/id1482310665

Zane Recommends - QueerMuslimSexWorker

https://audioboom.com/posts/5877593-queer-muslim-sex-worker

An odd one this week, Zane has brought the unique podcast Queer Musilim Sex Worker. Now, it is not the content that is odd (it is very compelling), but the format - it is a single-episode documentary podcast. The unashamedly intersectional podcast telling the incredible story of Mariam, a sex worker who juggles being Muslim, queer and non-binary.

For Both: There is only one episode

https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast/queer-muslim-sex-worker/id1227703932?i=1000385032411

Subscribe to us on ITUNES, STITCHER, SPOTIFY, RADIOPUBLIC or your podcatcher of choice.

Find us on FACEBOOK, TWITTER or INSTAGRAM.

#podcast #podcasting #podcaster #podernfamily #review #npr #radio #acast #luminary #nerdist

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averyxadeline · 8 years ago

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I once saw a shirt that said “If you’re reading this, raise girls and boys the same way”. I googled that sentence today and all of the above were the only results I found.

If you’re reading this wear black or wear nothing. If you’re reading this I fucked your girl for some honeybuns. If you’re reading this you look like a muhfuckin uuuuuuuh. If you’re reading this give me head. If youre reading this thick thighs r life. If you’re reading this fuck you.

if youre reading this wear black or wear nothing if youre reading this I fucked your girl for some honeybuns if you’re reading this you look like a muhfuckin uuuuuuuh if you’re reading this give me head if youre reading this thick thighs r life if youre reading this fuck you

ifyourereadingthiswearblackorwearnothingIfyourereadingthisIfuckedyourgirlforsomehoneybunsIfyourereadingthisyoulooklikeamuhfuckinuuuuuuuhIfyourereadingthisgivemeheadIfyourereadingthisthickthighsrlifeIfyourereadingthisfuckyou

–

IFYOUREREADINGTHISWEARBLACKORWEARNOTHING

The girl is an idealistic, one that thrives in the atmosphere of the insulated and secure. Black is her soul but she has embraced it; dark lipstick, brazen hair, nose rings and brave words, sisters chant the war cry of a new era of gender triumph. But is there really equality on an island only populated by girls? The island is buried in a thick fog of ignorance of the mainland. Our cries are loud unto ourselves but are we really heard? If we do a rain dance and the storm does not hit, do we really suffer? Perhaps the world I’ve lived in thus far has been a utopia because I’ve surrounded myself with boys and girls alike who’ve shared my world views and my voice against a very hypothetical form of bigotry. When I am only hearing these loud cries, it is easy to assume everyone is shouting in unison, but in the dead of silence, the nefarious whispers begin to creep down your spin and flood into your veins like an old heart attack. Maybe I’ve overestimated boys I thought were my friends, boys who I assumed saw me as their equal, boys that I thought respected me. Because no friend tells another that she is any less because of her gender, because of her looks, because the course of study she has embarked on is all “floozy” and “feminized”. “What’s the point of studying Literature and the arts? You can’t fix anything!” I study Literature precisely because I am self-aware that I live in a world that is ignorant to the nuanced sphere of human emotions, I and many others am attempting to fix what you do not see. Yes, engineering, sciences, mathematics and computing have their value in fixing society, but the arts do not fix, they reconcile, they heal and they protect, specifically from the brutality of a mechanical world where everything has become entirely utilitarian (cue locomotive noise and let this aural discordance upset musical souls!). The thing is, yes, we won’t earn much and maybe we won’t even be employed easily, but that is not our agenda, we don’t have an agenda, it’s not about the money but a wholesome livid life. Yes, let’s laugh about how the FASS student cannot fix a sink, or call her a “scrub” for not being able to understand mathematics well. But darling, I’d like to see you patch up those little holes of emptiness in your chest with a hammer and nails.

IFYOUREREADINGTHISIFUCKEDYOURGIRLFORSOMEHONEYBUNS

There is a humming in my ears and red strings bind my hands to his, but neither of us tied them. Ownership is a funny concept; I own this shirt because I bought it, I own this dog because I adopted her, I own this person because I love him/her. Because I love a boy, and because he loves me, the stars have aligned and we implicitly owe certain things to each other! The glittery pigments on my eyes are there akin to worship of him, the glorious tears that fall do so in his name, the slickness between my thighs are nothing but an ode to him. My body nothing but enslaved to him my idol? When he kisses my cheek, should it feel like a branding mark or love? Or both? Because I know in his eyes, it is love, but he has become the unknowing owner of this empty house and it is the world that deconstructs love with the politics of ownership that continues to build up walls. “How does your man let you out of the house wearing that? What does he think of that top? Did you dress of for him?” My body is no longer my own not because he demanded it, but because by the World’s gaze, love has become the defining mechanism of consent. That’s why marital rape isn’t “a real thing”, that why girls/boys who are raped by their significant other are assumed to have wanted it because they have before. So when I splurge my money on a 100 different lipsticks, it is so he might notice each and every colour. When I choose a pair of shoes, it’s not about convenience but whether they will risk making me taller than him. And when I wax it’s fully because he must believe that I am a hairless cat with the innocence unknown to all forms of natural female sexuality! Razors and too many variations of smudged red lipsticks have become the aesthetic of feminine ownership and I know that he does not expect me to shave for him or dress up for him, but what does is that everyone else does. “Your girl” has had her honeybuns stolen in the name of love and all its irony!

IFYOUREREADINGTHISYOULOOKLIKEAMUTHFUCKINUUUUUUUH

I look in the mirror, the depth of self-reflection spits back at me in horror. This face has become unknown territory; the nose ring I thought would express an edgy part of myself has deemed me a “bad girl”, the makeup caked on my face as an empowering attempt of feeling myself has labelled me as insecure, my natural chest and cleavage should not be exposed, and yet I am also not ‘womanly’ without it. The male gaze tastes like metal; the angry sort of tang you get from licking a rusty spoon, it spoils the flavor of anything you eat. I am the most stereotypical girl; I am everything you’d expect. I love clothes, makeup and arts, but most importantly I loved that I was comfortable loving these things. But when a boy insists that, “all girls only dress up for boys” and my own mother tells me that I shouldn’t wear certain things because I’ll, “scare boys off and look ugly to them“, I start tasting metal. The new metallic highlighter that I bought to compliment my skin tone disgusts me with its new ironized significance, I’m subtly afraid of wearing culottes in front of a guy who likes girls who wear them because I don’t want him to assume that I’m doing so for him and when I feel more self-conscious than confident when wearing red lipstick because I know someone is going to sexualize my libertarian choices and assume that I’m “trying hard”. Don’t get me wrong, boys are not the singular villain in this treachery, girls too ingest this patriarchal logic; they swallow it and spit it out at each other in the brazen tussle of femininity until it consumes everyone. Wave upon wave, femininity has indeed become a competition of who adheres most the hegemonic master text of what a girl must be. I look in the mirror and light pink is so drab against my lips but maybe boys will think I’m innocent! I look in the mirror and see a neon sign that screams, “YES” where my cleavage used to be. I look in the mirror and I realize that my eyes don’t work anymore, I am looking through someone else’s. I look in the mirror and I do not recognize myself.

IFYOUREREADINGTHISGIVEMEHEAD

Let me tell you a story about a young 14-year-old girl who did not understand love and suffered for it. A girl who just wanted to be loved by a boy at the wrong time and place and suffered because no one taught her better. A girl who liked a boy who convinced her that sending nudes was the only way he’d like her back. A girl who figured that this must be the natural path that romance takes because not one, but two boys demanded this from her. A girl who recognised harassment as a romantic pursuit because that’s what happens in movies. A girl who felt ashamed of her own body and responsible for a violation she had no control over. A girl who was afraid of talking to boys until she was 17 because at the back of her head, she assumed that this was the main agenda of all boys who befriended her. A girl who was wrong because someone set the wrong precedent. A girl who was given a second chance at love and realized that not all boys are sexual animals, but they still exist and sometimes we fall prey. I am an example, but I am not the whole story. Girls are getting touched and raped before they’re old enough to make sense of their own bodies, and it’s not just about rape but sexual harassment that has become normalized within a pop culture that begs one to, “send nudes” and makes memes out of it instead of addressing its travesty. America is seeing an epidemic of rape culture across college campuses and they’re still asking why. The infamous Dehli rape of Jyoti Singh was successful in raising awareness against rape culture but only because she was elevated as the “Nirbhaya”, the pure and fearless, only because her body was worthy in purity. But what about every other body? What every body from young rape victims to sex workers who face violence in the industry? The thing is, to not be seen as a sexual object, a girl has to be pure. But when she’s too pure, she’s a prude. The spaces that liberate female sexuality are growing smaller and smaller alongside the proliferation of this culture and these mindsets. A girl, like me, cannot survive a world like this.

IFYOUREREADINGTHISTHICKTHIGHSRLIFE

Dear boy who once tried to come off as the ‘nice guy’ by telling me you dance with fat girls in the club out of pity, did you think you owed her anything? Did you assume that her body that you deemed inferior was meant to be denigrated? Did you think that you did her a favour with your attention? Did you think she was in a club to validate her body? When the lights go down and the music is turned up, I bet you inched across that dance floor looking for someone to impress and you assumed that the fat girls would give you the time of the day because they have no better option? Check yourself. The girl is abundant, she is a blossom through which life flows, her body is a vessel to be celebrated for every curve and inch that is not yours to explore. It is not your place to deconstruct her colors and shapes. She is not yours to dismantle. The shape of her body does not define her self-worth, confidence and ability until it ‘becomes’ so in your eyes! The Kardashians will go on about thick thighs and body positivity, until anyone has thicker thighs than them. Rappers will sing of a woman’s curves unless they are on her waist and not her chest or butt. And boys will say that they’re accepting or any body shape until she threatens their ideal of beauty. Don’t get me wrong, yes some boys are perfectly accepting of a curvier woman, but that’s because their beauty ideals aren’t as narrow. But the real problem is not what men’s ideal women look like, but the fact that men still think it’s their place to validate a woman’s body or deconstruct it. Beauty can no longer be in the eyes of the beholder when that beholder is not worthy. When the lights go down and the music is turned up, let it be a celebration of every body on that dance floor in the perfect amalgamation of size, colour and gender.

IFYOUREREADINGTHISFUCKYOU

I have described at least 5 instances of sexism, some more personal than others but all of equal exigency. But the final instance is the most potent and deadly. It is the instance that has yet to come. It is the rebirth of all the above even after being educated and made aware of the very real genderized travesties that still exist today. The last instance is the ignorance of now. It is the blind eye that scoffs at this as another extremist liberal irrationality and continues to deny the silence the voice that they are screaming for. It is when we assume that in our own peaceful and idyllic contexts, we are untouchable and share no part in this fight. Don’t get me wrong, tis a battle but not one of a gender binary. It is not about boys against girls and vice versa, but collective humanity against a toxic mindset and culture. We can no longer be impartial; you have read this, you are reading this, now you know. Now you have no excuse. So I suppose that the real slogan of the t-shirt should be, “IF YOU’RE READING THIS AND YOU STILL DON’T CARE,

FUCK YOU.“

If You’re Reading This I once saw a shirt that said "If you're reading this, raise girls and boys the same way".

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sonderrow-moved · 6 years ago

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LIKE for a preestablished relationship/plotting line with Archer… BUT have at least one category in mind before I hop in your IMs! LINK TO JAEL’S: TBA

Update from this post! I entirely get the urge of wanting to roleplay, expand our muses together, and this is my personal starting pack for Archer! I take good time to redo this post according to thecurrent timeline which changed drastically since the beginning of this blog. If you’re hooked to one category but don’t think your muse can fit still HMU about it and I’ll see how we can work that out! So here are roughly the categories for inspiration your muse could fit in!

“FRIENDS”. Archer lost all of his friends when he was accused and imprisoned. He would have done the same thing; every one who was still linked by friendship to him risked everything. You’re one of those, because you’re not an idiot… or maybe you are and you did lose everything to keep your integrity. Or maybe you really were too stupid and loyal and believed Archer did nothing. This applies to particular muses who can fit in a scenario like this. Although for the sake of social standing Archer could “befriend” quite some people, he had a particular preference towards artists and introverted yet talented minds who had lots of potential, wanting to make them grow.

MISC.I’ll add more when I think of them! DO THROW ME YOUR IDEAS LET’S GO.

Like with any interaction, relationships are officially in the singleverse timeline if it is roleplayed to a minimum extensively. Looking forwards to write with you!

#.preestablished

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