#haven't tried one for ed yet so maybe I'll give it a go

[izzy-b-hands]

one minor breakdown abt election fears, and then onto chores and playing some gta. you know. as you do

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Eddie Munson's royal fuck-up

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 11

Prompt: Royalty AU

Rated: G

CW: none

Tags: Rockstar Eddie Munson; Royal Steve Harrington; Meet cute; Flirting; Secret Identity; Sort of angsty/open ending

"So, tommorow…" Chrissy says from behind the folder they've been provided. It looks so posh with its dark green binding, the royal sigil embossed on it in gold print. Eddie hates it. It probably thinks it's so much better than the other folders. "When you're introduced to Prince Steven, you're to address him as Your Royal Highness. After that, you call him Sir." 

"What, really? Dude, at least buy me dinner before we start with the kinky shit." 

Chrissy shoves his feet off the desk, which almost makes him topple off his chair. 

"Can you take this seriously? A royal visit is an important matter. We can certainly use the publicity-" 

Eddie's hand crashes down on the desk. "I'm a fucking rockstar, Chris. That ain't enough publicity? This place is my baby, mine. What does that royal asshole know about what it's like to have a rough childhood? He thinks he can come here, give a little speech, smile for the cameras, and suddenly it's all about him?" 

"What, now you care?" 

He whirls on her, but the look she gives him makes him freeze. Chrissy sighs. 

"Eds, you are so busy with the new album and the tour, you haven't even met the new volunteers. I said I'd manage the place, and that's fine. But you must trust me. Just do it for me. Please?" 

*

The skate park has new graffiti, and he hasn't even seen it yet. Eddie exhales his cigarette smoke and watches how it curls up to the sign spelling Hellfire Youth Center.

Maybe Chrissy is right. Maybe he should be here more. Maybe he's been so caught up in the whole fame and fortune thing, he's losing sight of what's important, like- 

"Watch out!" 

Like guys on skateboards barrelling towards him. 

Eddie throws up his hands. The guy tries to swerve, completely tips his precarious balance, and goes flying off the board and right into him. They land on the asphalt with an undignified oomph. 

"Shit, sorry," babbles the guy and tries to disentangle his limbs from Eddie’s. "Couldn't brake-" 

"S alright," Eddie hears himself say, even though his ass hurts like a bitch from the impact and he can already feel the bruises forming. "You can fall into my arms any time." 

Skateboard guy blinks up at him and - fuuuck, he's cute! In a scrungly, beanie-stuffed-over-chestnut-locks, black-rimmed-nerd-glasses kind of way. 

For a second, nobody says anything. 

"For fuck’s sake," someone swears, and then little Max Mayfield is running towards them, ginger braids jumping with the movement. "I told you to be careful." 

"Sorry," cutie with the glasses says again. Eddie has never seen him around. He must be one of the new volunteers Chrissy mentioned. "Guess I'll need to practice some mo- ow, shit!" 

His hands fly up to cradle his knee. There's a hole and a rapidly spreading bloodstain in the fabric of his jeans. 

"Oh fuck," Eddie says, and whips his bandana from his back pocket to press it to the wound. "Red, why don't you hop inside and get the first aid kit? I'll stay here with …" 

He trails off expectantly. Cutie's eyes go wide. 

"I, erm … Dustin." 

"I'll stay here with Dustin." 

*

Dustin, it turns out, isn't just cute, but also fun to talk to. He doesn’t gush about what a huge fan he is or ask for an autograph once. Eddie never thought he'd appreciate that one day, but it gets really old really quick. 

Instead, they jump from one topic to the next, sitting on one of the benches and watching Max go on her board. Dustin has a quick, sharp wit and isn't afraid to counter Eddie’s jabs with his own, delightfully bitchy sense of humor. Damn, to think he almost missed this one. He really needs to be around more.

"I love this place, y’know? You created something great for these kids." 

Eddie jerks to attention. The sun has started to dip, casting Dustin’s smile and the hair poking from his beanie in a soft golden light. 

"Thanks man," Eddie murmurs, and feels the bitterness boil back up. "Some people seem to think it needs better publicity, though." 

Dustin shuffles awkwardly, winces when the movement pulls on the Care Bears bandaids Max has plastered all over his knee. 

"You mean the royal visit?"

Eddie huffs. 

"Yeah, man. I mean, what are they expecting me to do, bow and grovel while his Royal Doucheness prances all over the place with his perfect hair and fancy suit and thank him for it? It's not like he cares about these kids, it's all just a gig to him."

Dustin draws his bottom lip between his teeth.

"You can't know that. Maybe he does care. Maybe he's-" 

Eddie barks a laugh. "Oh, give me a break. All the royals are good at is looking important and spending our tax money. I can fucking do without-" 

"Steve? We gotta leave, c'mon." 

They both whip around. A fancy black limousine with tinted windows has pulled up in the parking lot behind them. A gruff looking man is holding the back door open and looking at them expectantly. 

Dustin sighs and stands. 

"Coming, Hop." 

"Wait, wait, what?" Eddie babbles as he walks towards the car, shoulders in a sad little hunch. "What's going on? Who's that guy? Why's he calling you-" 

And then it clicks. 

"Oh fuck," Eddie says. 

Dustin … no, Steve … no, Steven - Crown Prince Steven fucking Harrington - gives him a tight smile while the man ushers him into the backseat. 

"Thank you for your time, Mr Munson, I'll see you tomorrow. I'll try not to be too much of a douchebag, I promise." 

The door clicks shut. 

The car glides away. 

Eddie buries his face in his palms. 

"Jesus fucking Christ. He's the fucking Prince."

Beside him, wheels grate on asphalt as Max brakes.

"Wow," she deadpans. "You're in some deep shit." 

Eddie groans. 

Tomorrow is gonna be a long-ass fucking day. 

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

[evecolourshock]

For the Impression ask game (your choice, any/all of):

Ed

Flynn

Eos and/or Clarke (If you'll do OCs)

Mercury

Sark

Character of your choice from any media that is not Tron (not sure what other media you're into)

Oooo, many choices!!!

Hmm

I'll do Ed (both canon and your version), Flynn (Canon only), Sark... and Jake Kesey (from The Wraith - bonus non-Tron character). I haven't interacted with Mercury, your version of Flynn, or Eos and Clarke, enough to form opinions of them.

Now, I saw Legacy first, and then the original film, so my initial thoughts on the Tron characters are biased that way.

First impressions:

Ed (canon) : Sassy smug kid. Why's he there.

Ed (yours) : All The Therapy for this one. Someone hug him.

Flynn : Old man with good intentions in his past that have come back to bite him. Interesting but where's the substance?

Sark : I don't know if you're an actual threat, or comedic relief.

Jake : Huh. (Literally just huh. Was more focused on the cool car and ignored the people).

Impression now:

Ed (canon) : so many missed opportunities. Also wouldn't it be neat if there was a symmetry in him helping Sam, with his father not defining him, to save the Grid and Encom instead of... we had less than a minute of a throwaway Dillinger, and two hours of Sam making himself a damsel in distress by trying to be the hero and failing.

Ed (yours) : ...I will fistfight the universe if that's what it takes for him to experience happiness without a spectre hanging over him.

Flynn : WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU going from the wildcard in the original film to... that. In Legacy. There's age and stupid decisions, and then there's somehow becoming the most oblivious bastard known to man and Program. I hate the Legacy version SO MUCH.

Sark : oh buddy you're in far too much over your head here. Still not an actual threat.

Jake : ....yesss gettem you funky undead gremlin.

Favourite moment:

Ed (canon) : the miniscule bit of screentime we're given, because that's all we have.

Ed (yours) : him and Sam doodling flowers on Eve and each other. So cute.

Flynn : "that's a really big door" (goofy dork). Also the part where he philosophises at Tron when Tron's figured out he's a User.

Sark : his "oh shit" face during one of the chats he has with the MCP. Blink and you'll miss it, but so funny.

Jake : blowing holes in cars with a supernaturally-powered shotgun while in a really cool full-body-leather suit and blank helmet (hey that's familiar...). I could not make this up if I tried.

Idea for a story:

Ed (canon) : what does he get up to outside of work. Literally anything.

Ed (yours) : Ed Finds Happiness And Nothing Goes Wrong. I don't care how this happens.

Flynn : exploration of why he ends up Like That in Legacy - as far as I know and remember, Uprising didn't give us any of this and neither did Betrayal, as they both focus more on the Program characters than the human ones.

Sark : what was he like when he was new? What would he be like without the MCP commanding him? (Wanting to explore both of these in Serendipity, but haven't got there yet.)

Jake : no story ideas as such, just wanting him to go to other places in the States and... dealing with... their gang problems because he died because of one psychopath ringleader and he's not about to let others suffer the same fate.

Unpopular Opinions:

Ed (canon) : none, mostly because we don't see enough of him to form an opinion.

Ed (yours) : I don't... know if I can have an unpopular opinion about him? I love him too much. Maybe... idk, he needs a "guard dog friend" who's stuck by him for incomprehensible reasons to all (including him). I know he has everyone in our RPs (and others in other RPs!) but... yeah. That's the only thing I can think of.

Flynn : I've seen it around a lot, so it's probably not an unpopular opinion, but his character in Legacy is a disservice to the one he played in the original. I have no idea how he got from point A to point B, and it annoys me.

Sark : probably the whole comedic relief thing. He's just... kind of a non-issue, typical evil-character's mostly incompetent SIC character.

Jake : Why, of all people, did Charlie Sheen have to be the actor for this guy. Also the whole romance subplot was very 80's, and unnecessary.

Favourite relationship:

Ed (canon) : we never see one. However, I like imagining he's head over heels for a tiny barista who looked a would-be mugger dead in the eye when he threatened her with a switchblade and pulled out a Bowie knife in retaliation.

Ed (yours) : all the sibling relationships he's accumulated. Buddy you have a family now.

Flynn : whatever he has with Alan. Also the bit we see of him and Ram.

Sark : he has none we can see aside from the whatever with the MCP. I like imagining he has an "admire from afar" kind of relationship with Yori, because she scares him.

Jake : he has a brother, and goes out of his way even as a vengeful undead to spend time with said brother. Very cute sibling bond.

Favourite headcanon:

Ed (canon) : see the relationships point above.

Ed (yours) : ooh, so many... probably the crochet. I like thinking of him making things.

Flynn : can't keep a shirt for 5 minutes without damaging it or spilling something on it. Ranges from "spilled my water" to "how the fuck is this thing rags now, I bought it yesterday and have worn it for ten minutes". Only affects shirts he's bought himself.

Sark : those horn-things double as handles, and it's possible to pick him up by them and carry him around like a disgruntled kitten.

Jake : can't sing. Loves to sing. The spooky car he was gifted when he came back for revenge has thrown him out more than once because it can't take any more of his yowling.

[belovedindierock]

Bent out of Shape

Cranky, playful, and maybe just a bit cracked, THOM YORKE has channelled his anxieties into a new solo album. Join him as he ponders the future of Radiohead and the end of civilization.

by Brian Raftery / Photographs by Jack Chessum

THE FLIGHT LAST night was torturous. He didn't sleep—he never sleeps, in fact, no matter what he tries. The herbal pills shut down his body but not his brain, and melatonin gives him wide-awake nightmares that he dubs "the horrors." Sometimes he works on songs on his laptop, but usually, by the time he's halfway through the air, Thom Yorke is silently freaking out. But this morning he woke up, put on a Björk tune, and got a massage. Sitting in an abandoned, librarylike meeting room at Philadelphia's Loews Hotel, he walks over to a window framing the skyline. The sky outside is a wondrous blue, and the 80-year-old Ben Franklin Bridge looks as if it could reach into heaven. Yorke takes it all in, sweeping his arm across the display of buildings. "You know, you land in the U.S., and you look out the window here," he says. "And all this infrastructure, everything that's going on... it will not exist."

He launches into an explanation of how it will all go down: The world's oil supply will be depleted, American won't be prepared, and the City of Brotherly Love as we know it could be gone in the next 100 years.

This is what Thom Yorke is like on a good day.

His malaise is understandable. Yorke is a few months shy of 38, and like most people who pay attention to what's going on in the world, he's scared shitless. Much of this fear is channelled through The Eraser, a heavily electronic side project—he bristles at the term solo album—that Yorke recorded with Nigel Godrich, who has also produced albums for his band Radiohead. Its nine songs are jittery meltdowns about alienation and anxiety, and it's hard to listen to it without thinking, Man, does his voice sound good when it's so far up in the mix. Also, is the apocalypse going to arrive before track six is over?

And yet, because he has a partner, Rachel Owen, and two young kids, Agnes and Noah, and because it's no fun to be a gloomy Gus all the time, Yorke remains a 21st-century optimist, one who believes that things are bad but we're not entirely screwed. Yet, "I have to be positive," he says, "because when it comes down to it—how do I say this without sounding really revolting?—you have to get up every day with love in your heart."

He pauses, his face frozen in a wince.

"There you go. I sound like some sort of lunatic. I'll just say I haven't slept much."

There is absolutely nothing surprising about seeing Thom Yorke in person. With the exception of the mid '90s Pablo Honey era—during which he rocked a blond shag that made him resemble Garth Algar after partying in The Dark Crystal—he's appeared more or less the same for over a decade: spiky dark hair, a flatlined gaze (the result of a lazy left eye), and some tentative stubble. He dresses his age, in jeans and a white short-sleeved dress shirt, but looks five years younger—not surprising, perhaps, since 33 is the scientific proven median age of Radiohead's fan base.

What is surprising, though, is that while Yorke sounds as tense as ever, he's looking relatively relaxed these days. The perpetually tortured glare that greeted reporters and hangers-on during the OK Computer era has been replaced by an occasional nervous laugh and some self-deprecating digs. "It's difficult to tell how people have changed," says Radiohead guitarist Ed O'Brien. "But Thom's been in a better headspace for quite a few years."

Part of the reason for this reversal, Yorke admits, was The Eraser. After Radiohead's exhaustive tour in support of 2003's Hail to the Thief, the band needed a rest. Yorke retreated to his home base of Oxford, England, gathering blips and beats that had been lying around for years and assembling them with Godrich's help. "After the last tour everybody decided to take a break and have kids," says Godrich. "But Thom had actually had his kids first, so he was given this space to think about what he should do. And he thinks very hard about that." Everyone in the band knew about the project, but when Yorke describes the recording, it's as though he's talking about having an affair. "We were getting together a week here and a week there, and it really wasn't a big deal," he says. "And because it wasn't a big deal, it was fun. It felt like nobody was watching."

What happened on that last tour that made you so anxious to work on The Eraser?

The last show was Coachella, and by the end of that, we'd completely lost interest and lost confidence. Part of the nail in the coffin for me, personally, was going on after the fucking Pixies. It's like going on after the Beatles. It was a massive big deal, and I really, really, really didn't want to do it. It was an odd situation, as well, because I think the Pixies misread it. They thought it was because we didn't like them. I lost sleep for a month. It was time to stop for a bit.

What happened when you stopped?

The interesting thing was the lack of momentum, the lack of doing anything. You just sort of go into this loop where you're like, "Ahhhh, fucking hell," because nothing's done. Unless you finish a song, you can't move on. That's what was the good thing about The Eraser, going bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, and it was done. I want to get a bit of that bang, bang, bang, bang thing back again.

Making The Eraser may have been cathartic, but it's a very bleak record. There are songs about distrust, isolation, bombs in the Underground...

I have many bleak thoughts. Don't get me started, man, It's one f my specialties, apparently. I'm concerned for our future, generally speaking. I'm concerned for my children's future. The reason I called it The Eraser is because the whole thing was written just trying to forget all the things that scare me. For example, we've reached the point where the [oil] supply has peaked. So what's going to happen? It's this enormous fucking elephant in the room, and everybody in the Western world is ignoring it. It's insane. And me being me, I don't ignore it. I guess I have too much time on my hands. So yeah, big surprise that I happen to be writing about that.

How do you keep those things in mind and not have it weigh down your life?

I have periods like that, which probably means I should be [institutionalized]. But I'm not a pessimist. I've gotten involved with this Friends of the Earth [group]: in the U.K. they're a big thing, like Greenpeace. They have this campaign to get the government to reduce carbon emissions by 60 percent by 2050 or something like that. And it's quite interesting to be sitting down with these people, and them actually saying, "These things are achievable."

We've got 50 years to reassess how we interact with the world around us. And it could be really exciting. It's not like this [points to window] is making us happy. Sitting in gridlock is not a blissful experience.

So what about stepping up your political involvement, like Bono or Bob Geldof?

I'm not capable of becoming a big spokesperson. I don't think it's a good idea for the sake of my sanity. You have to know what your limits or strengths are, otherwise you'll crack. And taking on the responsibility in that way is really tough. You have to retain your independence of mind because everybody has a different [opinion]. It's not good for you. It's purely self-preservation.

But you've spoken out against Bush and Blair in the past.

I have a problem when I make personal attacks. I always say, "Well, they don't make personal attacks on me." It's bad karma doing that shit. But at the same time, they're pretty good at racking up their own bad karma. I find it very difficult to worry about that level of karma when they're still preaching about democracy.

Do you ever wish you weren't aware of all this stuff? That you could shut it out?

I wish I could find the pill. Unfortunately, all the ones I've tried only make it worse. [Laughs] The stuff that makes it go away for me is listening to music. That's always going to be the best way.

Have you ever tried antidepressants?

Oh, no! GlaxoSmithKline's legacy to the world is these poor bastards who can't get off Prozac. That's a fucking evil organization. Oh, I can't say that, can I? [Pauses] That's a very astute organization. They obviously know exactly what they're doing.

IN NOVEMBER 2000 this magazine put the pouty faces of Yorke and his bandmates—O'Brien, guitarist Jonny Greenwood, bassist, Colin Greenwood, and drummer Phil Selway—on the cover, along with the question, "The world's greatest rock band?" At the time the answer was pretty easy: Sure, why not? They were only a few years removed from the laser-show vignettes of OK Computer, and they'd just released the successfully audience-segregating Kid A, the only chart-topping record to include a relevance to rampant lemon-sucking. Besides, the pickings were slim—other groups mentioned in that issue included Disturbed and the Insane Clown Posse—and so being the world's greatest rock band was about as admirable as being the world's most dazzling salt-rock formation.

Despite the good-but-not-great sales of 2001's Amnesiac and 2003's Hail to the Thief, the fact that they have released only one new song in the past two years, and the ascent of bands that sound more like old-school Radiohead than Radiohead do, the answer remains the same: Of course they're the world's greatest rock band.

Much of this has to do with Yorke being one of the last truly myth-shrouded frontmen left. Not to slag on the competition, but the Gallaghers no longer have the tunes, Bono isn't enough of a recluse, and Chris Martin still hasn't written a song as good as "Karma Police." Even musicians who aren't Radiohead fans speak glowingly of them. "What they're doing with musical ideas is really genuine and authentic," says Sonic Youth's Thurston Moore. "They could really become super arena-rock, because they had that promise. But they take another turn with [their sound], because they want to do different things.

And like Moore, Yorke finds himself in the position of unlikely rude elder statesman.

Do you feel old?

I feel old. And wise. It's a fucking weird thing, because I've always wanted to do that thing of growing old disgracefully, one way or the other. It's a bad idea to say to yourself, "I wish I was 20 again." I hated it. I used to go through really bad periods.

What was going on?

I was—well, I am—sort of confrontational. If I don't agree with something, then I'll rant and rave about it. It was almost pathological. Early on I used to get into all these scrapes with people. I'm sort of proud of that, because it kicks up the dust. The Arctic Monkeys—they have a bit of that, which I think is good. I don't really understand the music myself, but they've been put in that position, and they're really young, and they don't give a fuck. There's all these people all over them like a rash, and I can remember exactly what that's like—all these people going [affects a sleazy coo], "Oooh, we'll have a piece of you." And I think biting the hand that feeds you is incredibly important.

Nowadays are you more comfortable with the inanities of fame?

They don't happen anymore. There seems to be this threshold, and during the OK Computer period, suddenly all this shit started happening, and you're this moving target, and weird people start attaching themselves to you.

With Kid A and Amnesiac, it was tough making those records, but at the same time, it was exciting to feel like you were basically jumping off: "Fuck the lot of you! We're off!" The most amazing thing about it was I remember sitting in Central Park, and Kid A was No. 1 for one week—like some sort of clerical error was going on. How the fuck did we do that? No videos, no bullshit—we minimized it as much as we could. Knowing that we'd never get away with it again was like our little proxy Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle.

So do you have a normal life in Oxford?

It's fine. Really. It's good for the soul to see the same people walking down the street and not get hassled. I only get hassled once every two or three days—someone might come up, but it's usually a nice thing, a positive thing. So I cannot complain.

Are your kids old enough to know what you do?

My [five-year-old] son came to our first show in Copenhagen. I can't get anything about it out of him: "So what do you think?" [Mimes a childlike shrug]

LIKE SO MANY other easily distracted creative types with too much free time and too little restraint, Yorke started blogging last year. The posts? Strung-together rants, plus the occasional in-the-studio update (Radiohead have been recording a follow-up to Hail to the Thief since last fall, though Yorke says they're nowhere near done). Yorke's prose style is choppy and scattered, and his entries make for an often disturbing read: Extremely personal, grammar-be-damned lines like "I was struggling, feels like we been trapped for a long time" are posted with no additional details, leaving readers to wonder if Yorke has gone completely crackers (and also to ask, "When did he start using smiley-face emoticons?").

I'm going to read you a few of these blog postings...

Oh, goody.

"Have come through another crisis, shaky but intact." What crisis?

[Pauses] Just wondering whether [Radiohead] should be carrying on. I always wonder whether we should be carrying on. We all do, really. In January and February we were still trying to work out what was what. It just seems to take a monumental effort to get everything back in gear. We stopped for so long. You need to be hanging out a lot and sharing ideas without realizing it. You can't disappear for six months and come back and expect it to be wonderful. And by rights now, we should have split up. Isn't that what we're fucking supposed to do at this point? We're not fucking 20.

Here's another one: "I'm fucking tearing my hair out. Too much at once." It sounds like you put a lot of pressure on yourself.

The pressure's from all of us. There was a long period of time when we didn't have a producer. We didn't have someone external giving us feedback. And by default, that meant that I, for whatever reason, was the one saying yes or no, and I was tearing my hair out because I couldn't wear both hats.

How about "There are giant waves of self-doubt crashing over me."

Ah. There I go again.

Is this an allusion to depression? You've talked about depression in the past.

Maybe. I mean, I can never work out if it's depression or just lack of energy.

A FEW NIGHTS LATER, outside Philadelphia's Tower Theatre, a determined-looking teen stands on the corner, index finger in the air. Like so many other 'Headheads milling about, he has an almost zero chance of getting in; the Tower holds only 3,000, and the seats for tonight's show—the band's first Stateside concert since they were forced to headline over the Pixies—sold out in seconds.

So he'll miss out on the mad rush when the band takes to the stage with "You and Whose Army?" He'll miss the nine new songs, many of which sound like a return to the rock-oriented Radiohead of The Bends (especially the soulful "House of Cards" and the Wire-in-a-haunted-house "Open Pick"). And he'll miss out on one of Yorke's most physically animated performances to date: the frontman staggers, flails, and waves, and at one point appears to approximate Axl Rose's shimmying snake dance (thought the homage is probably accidental). To the casual observer, it could even look as if he's having... fun.

When you were in the studio earlier this year, pondering the breakup of the band, how serious did it get?

What will probably irritate me about talking about that is that people make a big thing out of it. Well, what do you want me to say? Do you want me to say it's all wonderful and that we never thought about it? I think it's good to be honest about wanting to still have genuine reasons for doing this. But when you say that some days it doesn't feel like the right thing to do, it's made into this big thing. But surely, that's fundamental. That's a fundamental part of the whole process of being a musician—choosing whether to work this way or that way.

How bad did it get? I don't know. Lots of discussions. I think we're a lot closer now than we have been for a few years.

Do you still enjoy being in Radiohead?

Yeah, I do. Ultimately, it's important to me to be sharing ideas with the others. That's the way we do it. You don't notice it until you actually decide to not hang out with each other for a bit.

You've been cracking jokes and smiling a lot on this tour. Do you think your reputation for being humourless is fair?

No. I think it's widely unfair. But it's out of my control. I'm humourless when I think people are wankers. I'm not tolerant of idiots.

What's the biggest misconception people have about you?

Well, that's the same as the previous question!

Johnny Cash Movies, Pixies Who Sing

THESE ARE A FEW OF YORKE'S FAVOURITE THINGS

Walk the Line

"Fucking hell, what a great film! I liked the way they were able to take the [characters'] biographies and dramatize them in a way that wasn't naff."

Liars, Drum's Not Dead

"My favourite record of the moment. I don't know what it is about it—when you have it on, you just zone out. They moved to Berlin, and they sound like they're smoking loads of ganja."

The Bug vs. the Rootsman

They're on Rephlex, which is Aphex Twin's label. It's all sort of bit-crushed, and I guess it's drum'n'bass. I don't know. I'm too old to actually know the difference between this and grime. I'm supposed to know this shit."

The Geography of Nowhere: The Rise and Decline of America's Man-Made Landscape, by James Howard Kunstler

"It's an American book. [Album cover artist] Stanley Donwood lent it to me because we've been obsessing about suburbia. It's an analysis of the way America's developed since the first settlers. There was this period before and after the Second World War where America could have gone one way or another. And it chose to go [toward massive development]."

Björk, "Unravel"

"While you are away, my heart comes undone/Slowly unravels in a ball of yarn/The devil collects it with a grin." I'm trying to get Radiohead to do a cover, because I think it's one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard."

"Ain't No Fat on This Record"

YORKE COMES CLEAN ABOUT HIS ALBUMS

PABLO HONEY

1993

"Some of the songs we did justice to, and some we were in a bit of a hurry to do. But I think we did a good job on that record, considering we were kind of wet behind the ears."

THE BENDS

1995

"I like the fact that The Bends was so direct, but it [required] a lot of aborted sessions and starting over. For 'Street Spirit [Fade Out]', we were bashing our heads against the wall for days and not getting anywhere. We had countless versions that didn't make sense. I was being impatient."

OK COMPUTER

1997

"The house [in Bath, where it was recorded] was the most haunted house we ever encountered. Some people saw things, some people heard things. What tends to happen to me with haunted houses is I hear the thoughts of this other entity. You can't determine what they're saying; they're not that specific. Unless you're under the influence, and it gets really specific!"

KID A

2000

"I often think about the horn section on ‘The National Anthem'. Me and Jonny were standing in front of all these players; Jonny was writing out scores, and I was going, ‘Just play it like a bunch of cars in a traffic jam! They're really cross!' I really didn't give a shit what they started playing. I was listening to a lot of Charles Mingus. I wanted to take that to the extreme."

AMNESIAC

2001

"It never felt right to make Kid A and Amnesiac all one record; they both have [their own] weird flow. Amnesiac has some good songs on it—we play ‘Dollars & Cents' a lot. And I'm really proud of ‘You and Whose Army?': Jonny was listening to [30s vocal group] the Ink Spots, and he and Nigel had a bee in their bonnet about how it should be done. And I was like, ‘Are you sure about that?"

HAIL TO THE THIEF

2003

"Of all the records we did, I'd maybe change the playlist. I think we had a meltdown when we put it together. ‘There There' is amazing, and ‘2+2=5' is good, but as Nigel says, I wish I had another go at that one. We wanted to do things quickly, and I think the songs suffered. It was part of the experiment. Every record is part of the experiment."

THE ERASER

2006

"Ain't no fat on this record — it's a lean motherfucker. Short records are a good idea—40 minutes is the length of a school lesson, isn't it? Besides, we didn't have a lot left over. There's a B-side called ‘Drunk Machine,‘ which was cool, but The Eraser has a nice sheen to it, and if we put that in, it would have been like putting a massive stink bomb in the middle of the record."

Troubled Man

Confusion reigns on the Radiohead leader's solo debut [3 out of 5 stars]

by Jon Dolan / Photo-Illustration by Joe Magee

Rock music is based on a symbiotic relationship between artist and audience: They do whatever they want, we think it's genius. Get coked up and drive your car into a rehab clinic? Genius. Sober up and sit around a castle IM'ing with the Dalai Lama while a sexy robot maid rubs your temples? More genius. But some rock gods don't play that game, and Thom Yorke is one of them. The career of the Radiohead frontman has been an ongoing process of building a strange, maybe unprecedented empathy between a musical icon and his teeming minions.

Throw on any Radiohead album since 1997's OK Computer rewrote the book on stadium-rock alienation. Each is a little black pool of prog-rock drift where Yorke marinades his ego until it nearly dissolves, leaving him and the listener in a liberating state of disorientation. The woozier the vertigo, the deeper the bond. Now he's also got a blog (www.radiohead.com/deadairspace/) where he can share his most personal, tortured thoughts. Celebrities get rich commodifying their elusive inner beauty, but Yorke's freebie outpourings are kind of subversive.

The Eraser, a stopgap en route to the next Radiohead album (due in 2007), offers nine excursions into ambient neurosis that only heighten that shared sense of confusion. The skittery, out-of-focus beats and electronica brutalism are unsettling, and Yorke's dire musings are more obtuse than ever. But for him, that's just honesy, and this is his most personal, confessional work (Yorke created all the songs with producer Nigel Godrich). Call it a blog with beats--low on guitars and high on abstract expressive moodiness. "The more you try to erase me, the more that I appear/The more I try to erase you, the more that you appear," he yelps above the blurry piano on the title track, before the tension breaks with an almost humane house-music groove. It's one of the few moments when his body takes precedence over his troubled mind.

These are the weirdest tracks Yorke has ever been a part of; even devotees of Radiohead guitarist Jonny Greenwood's comparatively pleasant orchestral outing, Bodysong, may be a little freaked out at first. "Analyse" suggests Swan Lake performed on a hot plate, and "Skip Divided" is like an EKG machine humming old soul tunes. Echoing Radiohead, these songs dwell in the space where everyday communication fails, and we have to look deeper or look away. But Yorke's ability to make alienation seem reassuring--what he refers to here as his "elliptical caress"--always draws you in. Whether he's singing about his childhood or postmodern apathy or math or rain, his drippiest distress calls sound like gospel. Even if he's going nowhere in particular, you can't help but tag along.

[dear--charlie]

Dear Charlie,

It is I again ... :)

Well, I actually forgot about the existence of this blog, it has been ... 5 years? Is that possible? That sounds like a lot, it's scary how much of my life has already passed.

I am yet again depressed and disassociated. This time I also packed an eating disorder with me, so it's not all the same boring routine... Splendor at it's finest.

A year and a half ago or so I started university and honestly, I hate university. I have very few friends there and one of them forgot about me the second she got better so I decided to cut her off, to not feel the shame of being used. The other one is also quite mentally ill to be honest and she also suffers from an ed, which makes it hard for me to interact with her as someone trying her best to recover. I recently had a lapse (or relapse? I can never understand what's more appropriate and calling it relapse just feels like I am bragging for attetion) and when I decided I'd stop it and try to recover again, I had to bring the time I spend interacting with her to a minimum. Maybe some people will call me selfish, but do I care? If you were in my shoes, you'd talk differently. People's hate is just the cost of making your own decisions about life it seems.

On another note, I am going to therapy, yay. I also went to this ed treatment center when things got bad with eating and I am still going there in secret from my family.

Now that I mentioned therapy, there is one thing I really want to write here. It happened almost a year ago already, but it honestly still haunts me. Maybe I am too dramatic idk, people have it way worse...but this is MY note so I can write whatever I want right... xd

Well, when I became anorexic about 2 years ago, I sought out a therapist. She was recommended to me by my friend I mentioned above with whom I no longer interact. It was an old woman, 60+, very short, but this person had something so unsettling about her, Charlie, that you entered the room she'd sit in with a feeling of being somehow tried by a figure of immense evil. I felt something was strange about her quite early on, but this lady charged very little for her services and I am a poor student, so I didn't want to give it up... Until one time. She'd often make weird remarks about how pretty I am, asked me who had green eyes, if my mom or dad, I believe it was already on the first or second session... I felt weird, but decided to overlook it. She then later on kept mentioning another client of hers, telling me that I could meet him and talk to him as we both have a history of living with a very manipulative grandfather. I assumed she meant calling him to one of our sessions and having this weird group therapy. Well, I was wrong. One day she asked me if I've ever had a boyfriend - I haven't yet, so I told her no. She acted as if this was a problem - what a total c*nt tbh :^) - but anyway, she then later in the session mentioned him again and kept saying that he is old, way older than me. I felt weird, so I asked how old? And she replied: "Quite old." ??? red flags, I know, but well, I made her tell me he was 34 or so. I don't exactly remember. Well, she said again that we have to meet up, me and him. I was like mhm she probably means some different time. No. At the end of our sessions someome rang her bell and she replied: "*his name*, come in" I was scared, even though still trying to convince myself that nothing is wrong. Well, I wanted to leave, but the witch literally stood in front of the door and wouldn't let me. The man appeared at the doorstep. She told him he should take me for a ride somewhere in his car at the weekend and asked him if he had time - he said well yes. Then she asked me if I wanted to go and I felt so scared by that time - but I managed to say I'll think about it. Well, after this happened, I was mortified and I ended up ending everything with her.

This scared me so much, Charlie. I don't tell people about it anymore, but sometimes I see an old woman outside who faintly resembles her and get a shiver of dread up my spine. Sometimes the memories of her just come to me as flashbacks and I feel dirty. I felt dirty after this happened to be honest, even though nothing really happened to me. I guess I felt strangely exploited and objectified. I came to her for help but she did this thing...for what? God knows.

On another note, lately I am obsessing over a certain anime character and its weirdly healing me even though I am still feeling very bad. He is not a good person, but I relate to him a lot for some reason.

I also write a lot, Charlie, my stories are probably the only thing that genuinely makes me happy to be myself. I also try to draw when I can.

Well, this is all the brain vomit I can think of for today.

Thank you for listening.

-mv

[findingmypeace]

They probably are frustrated, but it's likely because they care. It's a frustrating situation -- both to be experiencing and to be witnessing (which is an experience and of itself). Have you thought about tabling the idea of recovery and focusing on maybe having a manageable eating disorder?

I absolutely wouldn't be surprised if my loved ones are frustrated with me. I don't blame them. I'm definitely frustrated with myself as well. I have thought about doing a more harm reduction approach but it's hard to get people to support that. I mean, after I relapsed post discharge in April, K was absolutely adamant that I go back to treatment. I practically had no say in the matter. (Then she left me and I'm still bitter about that!)

I also keep telling people that we need to work on my trauma because I believe the trauma responses/behavior patterns and the eating disorder is so completely intertwined that until that is dealt with I don't see myself achieving full recovery. Maybe I'll have periods of reduced behaviors but otherwise it's (the ed) just not going to stop until the reason for those behaviors has stopped ie: the trauma.

I haven't been totally open with LS about where I'm at with recovery but she has mentioned that this might just be my life. It seemed like she was being accepting of where I'm at in this process while not giving full approval to my ed. Several years ago she mentioned that I may have to periodically go to treatment as a way to 'manage' the eating disorder. Kind of like 'maintenance'. However, at this very moment I have no interest in ever going back to treatment because I don't want to disappoint people with relapse yet again. Right now, I think harm reduction is where I need to put my efforts. I've just tried recovery so many times and I feel kind of hopeless. I'm not sure what is going to happen as far as my recovery and eating disorder goes but if anything I would like to try a harm reduction approach.

[himbosandhardwear]

Steve watches as Eddie paces in front of him, already wearing a groove in Steve's cheap shag rug. He's got both hands in his hair and he's mumbling to himself but has yet to say anything coherent except the "we need to talk" he'd shouted upon arrival.

"Ed," he tries to get his attention but the sound of his voice spooks Eddie so badly he holds up both hands to say, 'sorry, do what you gotta do.'

"No, you're right-" He says, though Steve has yet to actually say anything. "It's fine. Probably. Yeah. So, I'll just spit it out."

"Cool." He waits patiently.

Eddie just stares back, like the ball is actually in Steve's court and he's traveling. After a beat he scoots forward on the couch, trying to project openness. If Eddie doesn't get to the point soon, Steve's gonna start freaking out too.

"Oh, right. So, the thing is... Okay," he starts waving his hands around, "you know how a person can be in your periphery, like important but not like- And then one day you see them? They were there but now they're there! Right?"

"Yeah. Robin."

"Right, yeah! Wait, no," he waves that away, "not like Robin at all. Like, like, you see them," he imparts this with a stare that is conveying something but Steve has no idea what. He nods anyway to keep the conversation going. "Good, okay, so, like, what if you see them but you don't know what to do with that information? What if they don't actually see you too, you just think they see you, and you say the thing and it fucking ruins everything because you're too stupid to be able to tell the difference?"

Steve blinks up at Eddie, really, truly stumped on what he's asking of Steve. He gives it the old college try anyway. "Uh. I thought I had a crush on Robin before she came out to me...is that what you're talking about?"

He stomps his foot - real mature - and yells, "Forget Robin! This is about us!"

"It is?!" Steve's heart trips over itself.

"Obviously! What did you think I was talking about?"

"You haven't been talking about anything!" He points out. "I'm still not sure what the fuck is going on."

"Look," he puts both hands into his hair and pulls, "you remember when we did the photoshoot?"

Steve nods slowly. His blood is doing things in his body at the moment that is beyond his control. Underneath the panic, he thinks, your blood is never actually under your control, dumbass.

"So I've been thinking, I'd like to try sticking other things in your mouth." Steve chokes on his own spit but Eddie isn't deterred. "And not just that, but like, other things of that nature. And- And- Maybe not just that either but like other stuff. Like, nice stuff! Not that sticking things in your mouth isn't nice!" He panics, as though Steve may misunderstand that part in particular. "But I think we could do, like, couple things? Dinner? Um, movies? Yeah. I know we've done that stuff before but this would be serious. I mean, if you want to! I didn't even ask if-"

Steve stands up from the couch and slowly makes his way over, Eddie's wide, glistening eyes on him the whole time.

He stops when they're six inches apart.

"I know you said this has nothing to do with Robin but you should thank her for training me to interpret nervous rambling. I think I've figured it out." He grabs Eddie's hands out of his hair and holds them. "You wanna go on a date?"

He deflates. "Yeah."

"Okay."

He perks right back up. "Yeah?"

Steve grins, so happy he could explode. "Yeah. And if it's a good date I'll let you put whatever you want in my mouth."

Eddie turns a nice purpley-red color. He's never letting him live 'put other things in your mouth' down.

Steddie thought: it's the late 80s/early 90s Corroded Coffin make it big and come out with an album where the cover is a close up photo of just Steve's spit soaked mouth with Eddie's ring and middle fingers shoved in. Eddie had the idea for it and he and Steve, who weren't even dating (Steve had a huge crush but Eddie wasn't there yet), were hanging out one evening and he tells Steve about his thoughts about the album design and ~somehow~ Steve volunteers to be the model for it and Eddie takes the photo that night. The image ends up being culturally significant, and Eddie and Steve are the only ones who know who is actually in the picture. Steve can't stop thinking about how wanted he felt and seeing the picture everywhere both elates him and makes him pine even more than he had before. Eddie sees the image all the time now, on shirts, billboards, and he cant stop thinking about how good Steve looked sucking on his fingers, and the trust and happiness in Steve's eyes as they gazed up at him and OH! Oh wow, he's an idiot, he's got to see Steve asap!

[thatwriterkei]

-Moment of Tangency-

Series Summary: When Y/N's favorite fictional characters come to life, a mystery ensues as a killer wreaks havoc in Bangor, Maine.

~

Chapter Summary: What started out as a sleepover with your best friend turned into a night of unexplainable events.

Warnings: cursing, underage pining if you squint, mentions of sex.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Here's the first chapter of the big series I was talking about! I really hope you guys enjoy this, I've been working on this for about a month and it would mean the world to me if you have feedback and brought attention to this to those who would enjoy it too! I'm really excited to see how this goes.

~

Main Masterlist

MOT Masterlist

click here to be part of my taglist

_________________

Chapter One: The Beginning

"You will soon receive support from an unexpected source.." 

The red letters of your fortune stared back at you ominously.

"Hey, that's great timing huh?"

"Too soon, Marcus..Too soon."

A sheepish smile formed on his freckled face, "Sorry..Here, have another."

You shook your head, waving away the cookie. "I'll just stick to mine. I only have a little bit of room left for it." 

You took small bites, slowly indulging in the delicious treat, afraid of letting it go to waste with just two or three bites.

"I'm surprised your dad let me spend the night."

"Honestly, me too..I don't think he noticed that you're in the middle of transitioning."

"He probably just thinks I'm gay or something.."

You let out a choked laugh, "Maybe because you are."

"Hey, you can't tell me that Mr. Fisher isn't hot as fuck!"

"He isn't, oh my god!" You tried to finish the rest of your cookie without inhaling crumbs, suppressing the laughter building in your stomach.

"Have you seen his hands?! Y/N, I don't think you understand how much I adore him!"

"He's 20, Marcus!! Not to mention, he sucks at teaching physics."

"Hey, I didn't say my future man had to be smart."

"You're ridiculous."

"Yes, yes I am. Oh! Speaking of guys, any good gossip for the ship of a century?"

You could help but roll your eyes at his teasing, blood rushing to the apples of your cheeks.

"Kolby and I haven't spoken since last week. I don't think he likes me anyway. He's been talking to Heather more recently.." 

And, for some reason, you weren't too interested in him either. Yes, he was a nice looking, athletic guy but you just didn't care enough to go further than a 'hi, how're you?' with him.

"Well, his loss. You're a wonderful girl and it's a shame he's wasting your time with his boyish nonsense. Besides, he doesn't even wear watches like Mr. Fisher."

"I swear to god, if you mention him or watches one more time.."

"You're right, sorry," he held up his hands defensively before putting them down, "I just don't wanna see you get hurt, Y/N/N.."

"I know you're worried, Marcus, but I'm fine. It's our junior year, I don't think long-term relationships are supposed to happen for us until we're in like college."

"You never know..Anyway, what do you even see in him?"

You let out a sigh, sinking in the mounds of pillows and blankets that are laid astray on your bed.

"Umm..He's cute, without a doubt. His jokes are sometimes funny, depends on who he's around. He has a nice sense of style, I guess? I don't know..We've only known each other for a little over two months."

Marcus laid beside you, rolling to his side with a dopey grin plastered on his pale face. "And a lot could happen in two more months if you just talk to him. I promise, I won't even bother you in Algebra..Okay? Just trust me on this.."

You groaned but, nevertheless, agreed with a silent nod.

"Love shouldn't be this complicated.."

"Sometimes it is, sweetie..But only time can lead you to where you're supposed to be.."

"Yeah, I know...Since when did you become my therapist?" You let out a scoff.

"Since third grade! Now, c'mon, get off your lazy ass and let's do something cool!" 

He pulled at your limp arm once he stood up, dragging you to the floor and down the hallway towards the mini library your stepmom installed about a year ago; who has yet to use it.

"If you were looking for 'cool', you brought us to the wrong place." 

Your eyes scanned over the bookshelves, catching titles of famous works.

To Kill a Mockingbird

The Great Gatsby

War and Peace

Charlotte's Web

"You only have that perception because you hate her."

"Of course! Have you seen her?"

"Yeah, but this is still cool! You should take advantage of it while you can." 

Marcus released his hold from your ankle, scampering over to the section of the library where a red and white book was gleaming for attention.

"Oh my god! Miranda got the newest edition of IT?"

You stood up abruptly and made your way over. "She got what?!" 

"Holy shit, this is amazing! We haven't fangirled over this book since freshmen year."

"Oh yeah, our biggest obsession since One Direction." You laughed, taking the book out of his hands and running your finger over the textured title.

"Not gonna lie, the older cover looked better."

You rolled your eyes and ushered him over to the desk in the middle of the room. "Wait, let's see if they kept in that one part.."

"Which one? Does it have to do with Stanley? You had a major crush on his fictional ass." He teased, pulling up another chair beside yours.

"No no no, the one with Eddie and-Oh, I found it!"

Man, he had hated it when Richie called him Eds…but he had sort of liked it, too. It was something….like a secret name. A secret identity. A way to be people that had nothing to do with their parents’ fears, hopes, constant demands. Richie couldn’t do his beloved Voices for shit, but maybe he did know how important it was to creeps like them to sometimes be different people.

"Oh, I absolutely love this part..It's just, mwah, beautiful. Stephen King certainly knew what he was doing.."

"C'mon, let's go back to my room and reminisce." You took his arm and pulled him back to your bedroom.

~

You internally screamed at Marcus's onslaught recollection of memories.

"Oh, and that one time when you had a major attraction for-"

"Okay okay, that's enough reminiscing!!" You tossed the book at him.

"Aww, what? Feelin' embarrassed, sweetie?" He barely dodged the book, letting it bounce off your bed and onto the ground with a dull thud.

"Shut up.." You grabbed the nearest pillow and slightly smothered yourself with it.

The memories he continued to bring up brought back some nostalgia but looking back at it now made you cringe. You were practically grown up now, not 15 years old. 

"Okay, I'm sorry. But wouldn't it be cool if the losers club was real? Like actually around, in real life? Derry was based off of Bangor so it's more than likely you could find your own Stanley Uris." 

You cracked a smile at that and threw the pillow at him, situating yourself underneath the covers of your bed. "Yeah, yeah. I wish."

Marcus promptly pulled out his phone and checked the time, turning it over towards you  and flashing the bright light in your face. "Well, it's almost 11:11..Make a wish!"

"Seriously?" You deadpanned.

"C'mon, it wouldn't hurt!"

You sighed, sitting up on your elbows and closing your eyes. "Tell me when. You wish it too, okay?"

"Okay," some time passed, "now."

I wish the losers club was real..The entire gang. Every single one of them.

I wish I could blow Bill Denbrough.

You opened your eyes after you recited your wish a couple of times, sighing. You raised an eyebrow at Marcus, seeing him struggle to contain his laughter though the crimson red covering every inch of his face gave it away.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"I wished that I could blow Bill."

"Goddamnit, Marc."

~

It took about a half hour before the two of you could fully relax into a deep sleep but once you guys did, Marcus took up most of the bed. 

A heavy gush of wind pushed open your window, the cool air from outside blowing into your room. You snuggled a little more under the covers, face being buried into someone's back. They smelled so nice, a light hazelnut scent and freshly washed hair that reminded you of late night drives with your older cousin when you were younger; Just absolute nostalgia exuded from them. You felt your entire body relax against theirs, the warmth overtaking your slightly exposed skin from the nippy air coming through the window.

You hear a quiet groan from the opposite side of you, the noise causing you to stir from whatever you were dreaming about prior; It was a bit fuzzy.

"What the fuck? Dumbass window.." It was just Marcus.

You felt the weight from the bed disappear, his dull footsteps moving around the carpeted room as he shuts the window.

He turns around and gives one look over the room, his eyes partially open. He sees a couple of people in the room, the sight confusing him in his drowsy state.

"What the..?"

A mix of someone screaming bloody murder and a smoke alarm going off floods the room, echoing off the walls and throughout the house. Even Marcus wouldn't be surprised if the neighbors heard him too.

It takes just a few seconds before your sleeping mind can process the screeching, thus causing you to flip over to your other side and turning on the lamp. Your eyes are piercing with annoyance, though you were still a little concerned about your astonished friend across the room.

"Marc, what the hell?! What's wrong? What happened?"

You cast a glance around your room, trying to pick the oddball out.

"What the hell?!" You hear from behind you, the sudden noise alarming you and making you jump off the bed towards the ground. 

Your head whipped around so quickly you were sure it was the dizziness that made your imagination run wild from the sight. There laid a guy, around your age, with very curly light brown hair that just looked absolutely divine to twirl your fingers around.

Underneath you comes a strangled groan, almost upon impact. Looking below, you find a girl with fiery red hair in a bob style. You push yourself off of her and scoot away until your back hits Marcus's legs.

"Who the fuck is yelling-Oh, holy shit..!" You hear another slightly deep voice exclaim. 

Turning to your right sat five other guys with drastically different appearances, one after another coming to the realization that they had no fucking clue where they were.

The room grew quiet, fear growing in your eyes as you try to find a person to focus on but the thought only made you even more dizzy than before.

_________________

Let me know if you wanna be tagged for future chapters!! 💖

-Moment of Tangency- tags: @beauregard-s @demoniclust @deepestofwaters @grapesauze @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @soulwillower @19tozier @phrogtheguitarist @kindofokayimagines @stenbrozier @stenbrozier @brxken-heartsclub @fucking-greywater @theliterarymess

[greatsweet98]

"She-Ra and The Princesses Of Power" Character Escape Game

starts now!

The 33 characters simultaneously woke up in a dark room, that turned out to be unexpected. But since it's a room, there'll be light. A lightbulb is hanged up at the ceiling, and it needs a light switch to turn it on. As the 33 characters woke up......

Catra: *screams* Where am I?

Adora: *gasps in shock* What? Catra?

The red-eyed Hordak: What in Etheria is the place?

Kyle: What the heck? Why is everyone? (notices Rogelio & Lonnie) Rogelio? Lonnie?

At this moment, everyone there start to notice each other by their voices and fearly shivers, until someone accidently flips the light switch that turns the lightbulb on, that made everyone there scream in surprise and shock.

Micah: Glimmer? Sister?

Glimmer: Dad?

Castaspella: Brother?

Micah's daughter & his sister found him and hugged him. He hughed them back, then they broke the hug.

Glimmer: Dad, where are we?

Micah: I don't know, babygirl.

The "wrong" Hordak: Why are we here in a room full of nothing but us?

Madame Razz: (halfly sees Adora while faces at look) Adora, is that you?

Catra: Ugh, (gets frustrated) is this gonna be another Horde Prime "expirement".

Scorpia: Um, I don't know, Adora told me that she and Catra already taken Horde Prime down. But luckily, one of Horde Prime's bots is regenerated into good affliation to have a lucky friend to Entrapta?

The Busgirl: Where are we, Baker?

Baker: I don't know. How about you, Soda Pop?

Soda Pop: Me neither.

Everyone start noticed each other by friends by known-people and start asking questions in the same topic of the unexpected place they're in.

Adora: May I have everyone's attention?

Swift Wind: Huh? (turns to Adora)

Double Trouble: *rolls his eyes* Ugh, what is it?

Adora stands in front of everyone else to preach everyone. And everyone else faced at Adora.

Adora: Ok, here we go again.

Frosta: Adora, where are we?

Starla: And how did we get here?

Huntara: And who brought us here?

George & Lance: Who?

Perfuma: Please answer the question, who?

Adora: Ok, everyone, be quiet!

Everyone else starts shutting their mouths, well not everyone since one of them don't have mouths (Emily only, because she's Entrapta's robot).

Adora: I know you all have been asking the same question, and also do I. I know you all have been finding the answer, and also do I. I also don't know where we are, but if anyone else brought us here the way in, the way in is also the way out. I don't where is it, but it's better if we work together as one huge team. If we work together, since there's many of us, we may be able to answer our questions during our route on finding our way out.

At this point, everyone else hesitated to respond. But,

Catra: I may also have something to add, guys.

Everyone "huh?-ed" and turned to Catra.

Catra: I think Adora is right. Although, we may don't know where we are right now, but we can still figure it out and answer the question you've all been asking if we worked together. They say that "teamwork makes the dream work". (turns and smiles to Adora as a support to her)

*Adora smiled back at her*

Adora: So, who's in?

Everyone else, other than Catra & Adora, hesitated again to respond.

Netossa: *after 4 seconds of thinking* I'm in.

Micah: *after 3 seconds* I'm also in.

Jewelstar: Me too.

Kyle: Me three.

*Rogelio roars in a talk way*

Entrapta: Me four!

Everyone else responded to join to be part of Adora's teamwork & responsibility "organization".

Adora: So, who's ready to work together?

*everyone cheered in triumph*

Adora: I'm glad.

Castaspella: Ok, we're now working together, but is there a door or a secret passage here?

Adora: (🤔) Hmmm....if we're in a room full of nothing. There should be an activation of a secret door or secret passage here.

While Scorpia is behind Bow at the "audience area facing Adora", Scorpia notices a note taped on Bow's back part of his "hero suit".

Scorpia: Um, Bow, is that a note behind you?

Bow: Huh? *tries to feel the note om his back by his hands* What the? No one noticed it the entire time?

Madame Razz: Oh, I think I barely did.

Adora: *gasps in surprise* Bow, you have a note there! (to Scorpia) Scorpia, take it off of him.

*Scorpia takes the note off of Bow and gives it to her*

Adora: (reads the message) Hmmmm....there's a message.

Castaspella: Can I read the message?

Adora: Um, *after 2 seconds of thinking* sure. I'll let you read this time.

Castaspella: Thanks. (smiles at her and reads the message)

Castaspella: "As you've wondering where you are right now, you're somewhere in Etheria but I'm sure you haven't found this nowhere in Etheria. At first, you'll be trapped in a dark room because you all gonna be play an escape game."

Glimmer: Escape game?

The "wrong" Hordak: Wait, we're playing a game?

Entrapta: But it's an escape game.

Glimmer: Aunt Casta, please continue reading.

Castaspella: Ok, Glimmer. (continues reading the message) "There are levels to go through to find your way out. Here's the worst part yet good later on, everytime all of you proceed to the next level, a number of you will be eliminated if you don't finish the level, challenge, or you're the last one to make it. You don't die in this reality and in this escape, once you're eliminated, you'll be put in a cage to wait for the last player uncaged to finish the last level to free all the eliminators and made your way out. For your first task, since you're trapped in a room, find a button. By, "the creator"."

Sea Hawk: Ok at first I thought we're gonna die here, but....we'll be put in a cage if we're eliminated?

Mermista: To be honest, that's kinda good and random and a bit scary.

Perfuma: I know.

Bow: (sees Adora thinking) Adora?

Adora: (🤔) Hmmm.....find a button?

*Emily (the robot) squeaking*

*Melog talks in his creature language that no one understands but Catra*

Entrapta: Ok everyone, find a button here!

Not to mention, the room isn't too small or too big for them, it's just like the size of a combination of the size of a house living room & the size of a house kitchen. As of by now, everyone tries to find a button around the room, possibly camouflaged, until Soda Pop accidently push something on the wall (which could be the button). As he does it, a trapdoor magically appeared in the middle of the room before everyone noticed it after a second, and the room starts to shrink by the ceiling going down. The distance from the "33" to the ceiling is 5 feet, and it goes down by 0.5 ft per 15 seconds (so it takes 150 s./2 min. & 30 s. to hit the ground). They saw the trapdoor and have no choice to do.

Adora: Quick, everyone at the trapdoor now!

Everyone listened to Adora and went on the trapdoor, but it's locked with a code keypad.

Frosta: (shouting) What? It's locked by a code? Come on!

Adora: (examines the keypad, turns it around as sees something written on the back of it) *gasps* Guys, here's a clue for the code.

Scorpia, Entrapta, Glimmer, Catra, & Kyle viewd the clue with Adora.

It turns out to be a math equation.

Castaspella: Hmmmm...four hundred twenty-six thousand, nine hundred seventeen.

Lance: Plus three hundred fifty-two thousand, one hundred thirty.

Lonnie: Subtracted by two hundred six thousand, nine hundred fourteen.

Frosta: Ok, I'm not that good at mathematics, but I can solve it. Anybody knows the answer?

Everybody else of the "33": (🤔)

After they're all thinking of their mathematic skills, they pawn out their answers.

Here are their answers:

Castaspella: Um...476,283

Frosta: Uh, 500 thousand something. Maybe like 572,133?

Micah: Hmmm...I might have the same answer as Frosta, '572,133'. Because I use my brain.

The "wrong" Hordak: I think I agree with that lady named Castaspella, I think? She said it was four hundred seventy-six thousand something.

Catra: I guess it's 572,133.

Adora: 572,133. Yep!

Glimmer: No, it couldn't be. It's 568,203. I think that's my answer. Oh wait, it could also be 572,133.

Baker, Soda Pop, & Busgirl: We agree with the majority, our answer is 572,133.

Swift Wind: 572,133.

Madame Razz: Maybe it's eight!

Kyle: My answer is around 600 thousand something.

Lonnie: Pffft, *chuckles teasingly as friend* it's 572,133! Use your math brain, Kyle!

*Rogelio roars talkatively agreeing within the majority*

The "red-eyed" Hordak: Wait, it could be 568,203. Glimmer's right!

Perfuma: 572,134?

Mermista: 572,133. My final answer.

Sea Hawk: I agree with my dearest love! Five hundred seventy two thousand, one hundred thirty-three! (puts his arm around Mermista's neck) Right, dearie?

Mermista: (rolls eyes) Ugh, yeah! And duh!

Double Trouble: I'm not good at math, but I'll take a guess. Promise, to be honest, I'm not cheating or copying anyone's answers, okay? My guess is the same with the minority, 572,133. I tried using my brain.

Spinnerella: 572,133?

Netossa: No, wait, I think it's 572,133. (to her wife) You're right, Spinny.

George & Lance: We kinda thought it's 572,133.

Huntara: Maybe I agree with Kyle, it's somewhere in the 600,000s.

Starla, Jewelstar, & Tallstar: Umm...we don't have an answer. But we guess you guys mostly have the same answer by most of you. We don't even know the answer.

Entrapta: Before the first person said their answer, T.B.H., my answer is exactly 572,133.

Scorpia: Uhhh...*puts her claws together side by side like this 👉👈*...maybe Kyle's right. It's in 600,000s. Probably 672,133.

Bow: I don't have an answer. I think my answer might be wrong, mine is 572,133.

*Melog & Emily shake their heads*

Entrapta: (notices Melog & Emily doing that) Looks like Melog & Emily don't know the answer but I do.

Catra: Okay, the majority goes for 572,133. *gets closer to the keypad* Should I type '572133' as the code?

Frosta, Micah, Adora, Baker, Soda Pop, Busgirl, Swift Wind, Lonnie, Mermista, Sea Hawk, Double Trouble, Spinnerella, Netossa, George, Lance, Entrapta, & Bow: YES!

Glimmer: No! Wait, yes, I think. *sighs* Just do it, Catra. Maybe my answer is wrong, *puts her finger on her mouth) but it could be right.

WHO GOT THE RIGHT ANSWER/ANSWERS TO THE MATH EQUATION?

SHOULD CATRA TYPE '572,133' AS THE CODE, OR REFUSE IT?

Because there's 2 minutes & 30 seconds left for the ceiling to squeeze them!

It's your decision in the comment section! Hurry!

You may reblog this if you want to!

[judgement-free-sideblog]

Dancing lessons

Barry Berkman x reader

Summary: Barry is finally cast in a feature, the problem? He said he could dance and now he can either disappoint Sally or found a way to learn some steps.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, violence, guns, cheating maybe.

Part 1 ● Part 2 ● Part 3 ● Part 4 ● Part 5 ● Part 6 ● Part 7 ● Part 8 ● Epilogue

Part 2

One week after the first time Barry meet Y/N he was nowhere near learning tango, let alone dancing on the level his stupid resume said he could, he only have ended with horrible pain on his knees, thighs and back. And he hasn't even practice dancing with music yet, apparently his instructor thought he first had to learn one basic step and repeat it a million times before he could start doing the "flashy and presumptuous" step, as she called them, that the director may want.

"You really don't have to worry" Sally said during breakfast, they have an agreement to spend the night at least twice a week in each other apartment but he could tell she rather if he stayed at hers since Jermaine and Nick didn't get along with her. "That girl you say is dancing with you, I just heard from Lindsay that she is totally sleeping with the director so probably the scene is an excuse to show her dancing talent and they will be focusing on her instead of you" She drank the rest of her orange juice and stood up quickly "God is so late" she checked her phone and gave him a kiss on the cheek before taking her purse and keys and rush to the door "I'll see you tonight ok? Good luck!"

"Bye, I love..." And then she was gone. "You" He finished his breakfast and took his own car to the studio where he had to finish filming his scenes.

"Barry you're here, excellent!" Andre said when he arrived, thankfully he was not the star of the film and he didn't have to listen the hundred of notes he had for the leads nor taking all the shit the PAs get from him. "Look" He said pointing at his tablet "Janice is on New York for three more weeks for a Ballet presentation, but she sent this to me, is the perfect choreography for the scene. What do you think?" He showed her a clip of Janice and some professional dancer with a song he didn't knew, probably in Spanish or Italian, dancing incredibly close, with several lifts and spins.

"Great" He said feeling dizzy "Flashy and presumptuous" He add really low.

"What was that?"

"Classy and marvelous, is a modern take on the Argentine style isn't?" He said repeating what Y/N had said to him the day before.

"I have no idea, but hey you are the expert" He gave him a pat on the back. "You can start rehearsing with Janice when she gets back" He didn't like that kind of touching, it reminded him of Fuches and make him feel uneasy.

"Sure, great, hey could you send me that video, you know to study her movements" he tried to sound casual and not frightened as he was.

"Yeah sure" he said and with a hand gesture urged him to move to the set where he got to start shooting.

The minute he was over he drove back to Y/N's studio and saw her giving her class to young girls all dressed as ballerinas, she was wearing a black seetrough dancing skirt over a leotard, and his eyes lingered on her legs a few seconds more than he should mesmerized as he was by the elegance she used to dance.

"Barry you are early" She saluted him with a smile, "Girls say hi to Mr. Block" she said at the mass of pink and white.

"Hi Mr. Block" They cheered.

"I'll be done in a few minutes but this really is a private rehearsal" She pat her lips with one finger thinking "Would you mind waiting upstairs? I mean I would hate for you to drive back home to come back in less than an hour, and the coffee place on this block sucks" She said and the girls start laughing "Don't tell your mothers" She quickly add.

"I don't want to be a burden"

"Oh nonsense, you are not, go upstairs, I have food on the fridge but I wouldn't recommend it since you are dancing later and the WiFi password is written next to the phone" She insisted and he finally accept.

The apartment was just a little bigger than the one he rented with Jermaine and had a nice walls on a blue shade that reminded him of the ocean. And a big window facing directly to the door, so the first thing you see when you entered were the rooftop of other buildings and the hills in the back.

He entered feeling himself as an intruder, but being honest that was a common feeling for him, even if he haven't break in any place in over a year, a very long year, and again the pain of thinking of Fuches maybe lurking around strike him in the chest.

He found a place to sit and after being 5 minutes in complete silence trying to not be alone with his thoughts he took out his laptop to watch the dance again. Next to the landline was a nice picture of Y/N on his wedding dress next to a man that must be her husband with golden letters and numbers written over: JPTLV150813.

Once he was connected he allow himself to look around, the living room was tastefully decorated and there were some framed paintings of wild flowers on the wall in purples and pinks. He glance at their dinner table in the other room next to her kitchen, and while he was still holding he picture his mind start wandering, maybe Sally would like to live with him in a place like that. Full of light and peaceful.

He picture himself waking every morning and walking towards the kitchen to make her breakfast, she getting out of the set exhausted, to get a glass of wine in the living room. Reading lines together in the couch, and falling asleep there watching a movie.

And then since he hadn't sleep wery well and Y/N couch was madly comfortable he fall asleep still holding the picture and suddenly Sally's face start fading away, and Y/N replaced her, in a blue version of the clothes she was wearing earlier, he saw himself dancing with her on the living room, a slow and romantic rhythm, and instead of her husband it was him smiling on the picture next to the phone. She would come upstairs tired from work and he would stop her at the door to give her a passionate kiss... then the sound of a gun going off came from the window and a blood stain start forming in her chest running and she collapsing on his arms, and then it was Sally lifeless body again who he was holding and she whispered before losing her breath You did this and fearful he looked at his own hand holding the gun...

"Barry?" Y/N's voice came from the door, and immediately woke up and shake those horrifying ideas from his mind.

"Here" He call from the couch and was careful enough to not look back and don't picture her covered in blood

"I'm so done, boy I'm glad you came upstairs, Amanda's mother is a pain in the ass, if she have seen you she would have called the cops or something" She said and sit in next of him, she was already wearing the heels she used to practice with him. "What you got there?" She said looking at the screen where the video of Janice was still on.

"Is the dance I'm supposed to do for the movie" He said glad to have something to said and he showed her the clip.

"Well... you are screwed" She said after it was finish and he gave her an imploring look. "I'm kidding, I mean is a monstrosity of showing off, and her technique is not perfect, but I'm pretty sure you can put together something, like Ed Sheeran on Thinking out loud". She said confidently.

"Who?" He asked with no idea of what she meant.

"He is a British singer, we are probably too old to know him, but couples come all the time trying to learn his routine for their wedding" She said, but his face was still puzzled "You are not very familiar with pop culture, for an actor living in L.A. I mean" She stood up and walked towards her kitchen "Do you want anything? I have wine, beer, orange juice?" She called from the other room.

"Beer is fine, and is because I only became an actor recently" He said with some embarrassment in his voice taking the bottleshe offered him "I used to amm... sell auto parts in Cleveland"

"Ohio, that's ... far" she said taking a sip of her drink.

"And before that I was a Marine" He add and she almost spit her beer but did her best to pass it down.

"Oh wow, that's unusual. I would definitely say thank you for your service, but I'm antiwar so what if I gave you a 10 percent off on the lessons and we call it even?" She grin at him

"Don't worry about that, I don't like to make a big deal about it anyway" He said sincerely "Also I'm pretty sure you are wasting your time with me"

"Don't be so harsh on yourself, here look" She took the laptop off his hands and found a video of a ginger man singing a cheezy song about eternal love "See he is not properly dancing, but he act like he is, so first you have to learn how to lead, come on take off your shoes"

"Take them off? Why?" He asked while she got rid off her heels and let her bare feet touch the wooden floor.

"Because, and I mean this with respect" She said standing and looking for a record to put in her old record player until she found one "You are huge, and I'm afraid you would step on me with those shoes" a slow rhythm start playing and he did what she asked and stood barefoot in front of her.

"That doesn't sound like the other songs" Although he like it.

"Because you have to learn to walk before you can run, now, put both of your hands on my hips" She said getting closer to him.

"Like this?" It was funny how without the heels she was way shorter and couldn't completely reach her neck so she settled for put both hands on his shoulders.

"Fine now listen to the music and move" She said moving her body rhythmically "There you go, now move me, lead, right or left, is your choice" She said letting him take small steps and occasionally looking down to watch his feet.

"This is not that bad actually" Barry was actually enjoying himself, then the music start going faster and she took his right hand on hers and pull away from him and he chose to ignore the feeling of lost that caused him.

"Now, the hand on my back has to be steady, and lead, we can spin" She said and taught him how "Or we can walk" She started walking back slowly letting him follow the steps at his own pace. "Is all about who is leading" She gave him a smile and they kept dancing until the music was ending and since he had confidence now he make her spin and catch her on his arm like Janice's partner did on the clip.

"Sorry I always wanted to try that" he said once she was standing next to him.

"It was great, you are getting it, now we can try to improve your actual steps, but we should go downstairs, my husband is about to comeback and he hates having music on when he is working" She put on her shoes again and walked out followed by Barry.

[izzy-b-hands]

"One dog," Ed says.

"Three," Izzy replies.

"All of them," Fang adds.

"How many is that?" Ed peers beyond them to Ivan, Jim, and Pete holding a number of clearly hastily homemade leashes.

"A number," Izzy says.

"Izzy."

Izzy's expression doesn't change.

"This is the hill you're gonna die on?" Ed scoffs. "Izzy!"

"Named this one Bonnet," Izzy says as Lucius hands him a puppy. "You can see why."

He sets the puppy down on the deck, only to immediately have little paws clawing at his ankles accompanied by pitiful whimpers.

"He's a bit needy and likes being coddled," Izzy remarks as he scoops Bonnet back up, cradling the puppy like a baby.

"So..." Ed says slowly. "You named this dog after Stede."

"Yes."

"And Stede irritates you."

"Daily," Izzy sighs.

"Yet you like this puppy, right?"

The lightbulb flickers on above Izzy's head. "Wait. Ed-"

"Awww," Ed gives Bonnet's head a pet. "I'm gonna go tell Stede."

"I wish you wouldn't."

"He'll think it's cute," Ed smiles. "It's okay, Iz. I know you're a little sappy, little sentimental..."

"That..." Izzy splutters. "It was meant as a-"

"I know," Ed interrupts. "Chill. Besides, you'll have to call the dog by name anyway at some point. He'll find out no matter what."

Izzy nods. "Ah. Right. Hang on-"

"You guys are responsible for them," Ed says. "I don't want to see any tears if something happens to them at sea. You know it's dangerous for us and animals all the same."

"Seriously?" Fang asks. "All of them? And you won't ask us-"

"I won't," Ed cuts him off before he can say it. "At worst, if it becomes overwhelming, you might have to rehome some of them. Get them onboard before I change my mind."

He stalks off to try and resist the urge to ask if there are any other puppies that might need holding and cuddling, only to run into Stede.

"Ed," he smiles. "Thank you. That's what I was planning to tell them about the dogs. And, if I may say, that was ado-"

"I haven't kissed you in a few minutes," Ed interrupts. "How about that, instead of-"

"Adorable, and sweet, and yes, I think one of them could sleep in our room," Stede continues.

"...there was that one Jim had, I can't remember the breed name..."

"The longer coated one? I think maybe a Great Pyrenees?" Stede muses. "They look sweet. If they like us both well enough, then I could live with removing dog fur from my clothes."

Ed gently taps the deck railing. "How bad would it look if I immediately ran back over to meet that dog, like right now?"

"Go on," Stede nods towards the accumulating crowd of crew around the now onboard dogs. "I'll be over in a moment. I think there's some dog safe leftovers Roach won't mind giving up."

"How do you know what's safe for dogs?" Ed asks with a chuckle. "I thought you kept horses."

Stede swallows hard, and Ed sees the tears in the edges of his eyes.

"Hey," Ed tries again. "Um...if you had to name a dog..."

Stede looks panicked. "I wasn't allowed to name our dog as a-"

Ed takes his hand. "You think about it while we go meet them. Maybe we could find a good name out of the books in the library."

"Arthur?"

"Arthur it is."

[rage-against-the-meyer]

Breaking Dawn (2008)

So, I've reviewed the other Twilight Saga books already, but I promiss you, this is gonna be the worst one yet. I must admit, as a 13-year-old girl this was my favorite book (don't kill me yet). I was growing up in a Dutch small Christian town that had had a big infuence on my views. In my mind, it was perfectly logical that the story ends with a child against all odd. As a grown-up Biomedical scientist, this does not go anymore. As such, I now view Breaking Dawm as the absolute worst one yet and here, I will tell you exactly why.

Breaking Dawn is a big fat book that consists of three different books. I will discuss the books seperately in fear that it might be too much otherwise.

Part I from Bella's point of view

It's no surprise that I actually do like this book. We get 6 chapters of sheer happiness and joy. Very much Edward/Bella intimacy and they finally have sex (woohoo). So what can I bitch about?

Well, actually not too much. I loved the wedding, the secret goodbyes (yes, I cried). I just believe that after the first 6 chapters Bella should have struggled with the decission to change instead of the pregnancy. Yes, Chapter 7 is the cursed chapter for me. It's the onset of all pending misery. Also, it is the first time that menstruations are mentioned and the weak excuse SM gave to explain the never-having-killed-her-due-to-smelling-period-blood on Edwards part is just that, weak. So, all-in-all, I hated this chapter but what comes after is exceedingly worse.

Part II from Jacob's point of view

I hate Jacob. That much hasn't changed. I hated the cold Jacob that is so prominent here very very much. Personal sun my ass. I have always loathed this POV but it offers us some interesting views on the wolves and the Quileute people. It was good to see the communication between the wolves, but it was also nonsense. The big difference between you can't hide what you think and thinking in directed full sentences became a blurry line that never really made sense to me. What was good about it, is that we saw how pure Seth's mind is and how deeply hurt and actually good Leah is. Seth, a mere teenager, is objectively one of the purest characters I have ever read and that's on that. The faint influence of the coming Gen Z was shimmering through in his defiance of made boundaries in communication: Seth saw the good in the Cullens and defied his tribes prejudice. Good for him. Leah, of course, is one of the most denied characters in the series. Such a fierce young woman that has suffered so much is the only character that does not get redemption. It is absolutely outrageous and I agree with many that it shows SMs prejudice against women of colour. She gets literally nothing. She stands on her own in a group of men that mock her for her guard as she has to suffer through knowing her ex's love for his new love. Then, of course, she cannot have children and she gets no love interests. To through all these (in SMs mind) limitations only at one of the few POC is not great. I do like the fact that Leah and Jacob become closer and that Leah cares most for Seth. It's not enough, though. Leah should have gotten the trip to go to college somewhere far away, paid for by the Cullens out of sheer gratitude. She should have everything and all but through Bella's (read: SMs) mind she is still depicted as sad, lonely and bitter. To show a woman's anger like that is straight up misogynistic. Great start.

Jacob's story skips so many valuable parts of Bella's story, which we have been focussing on until now, and it makes so little sense that Jacob would be there for all the important interactions.

In Jacob's part, some shocking facts become clear. As a biomedical scientist, I have been holding back the outrageousness of this one: the chromosomes.

Vampires are frozen in time; after the change, their bodies don't change anymore. They also don't grow new or longer hairs, new teeth, anything. They are frozen in time. Curiously, they still have a need to feed (blood) and their consumption influences four things: their thirst, the colour of their eyes, their strength and their behaviour. I will tell you why this makes absolutely no sense. In humans, we feed for much the same reasons: we don't get hungry, we stay alive, become stronger and we are nicer when we aren'r hungry. This influence is exerted by the distribution of food molecules throughout the body; to the brain, to the muscles, the organs, you name it. Vampires don't have blood, their distribution of food molecules would be so slow that it would take days if not weeks for the molecules to get to the eyes or the brain. We know vampires aren't mushy inside to increase the distribution so how does it work? It eludes me, I'll tell you. Also, every part of the vampire body is supposed to be solid. Where does the liqud from the blood go? A human averagely holds 5 litres of blood. That is a lot. And since the body doesn't change, where does the liquid go? Aside from the distribution, it makes even less sense that any of these factors should be influenced by anything at all. It is likely that vampires still have cells, their bodies still need to create impulses, movements, talk etc. But their bodies don't changes anymore, so after the change the cells stop producing hair molecules? Why don't the hairs drop anymore? It is so dumb that SM suggested a certain balance between the actiond that continue and actions that don't. We still move the muscles but they can't grow anymore but the cells in the muscle stay active?? This brings me to the chromosomes.

So, Carlisle has tested human, vampire and werewolf (without consent) blood. He found that vampires have 25 chromosome pairs, werewolves 24 and humans 23 chromosome pairs. His findings and his tone suggest that he attributes all the vampire qualities to the 2 extra chromosomes. Now, with everything that I have just explained, I see no possiblity behind that. The venom of a vampire just adds two pairs of chromosomes to your cells? One from your mother and one from your dad? And then, these chromosomes are able to pinpoint exactly with genes to silence and which to activate and that is enough to make your skin hard as granite? No way. The body makes strong pieces, but still the strongest is the teeth. Strong but not as strong as SM thinks.

All-in-all this science is straight up the biggest fucking bullshit I have ever seen. There is just no logic behind the logic SM gave. It doesn't stop here, though. No. I am 100% convinced that SM has not had any sex talk ever in her life. She started with Edward's 100-year-old sperm being vital enough to produce a baby. This sperm is saved at approxomately the temperature of a rock/as cold as ice. This is far far far too high a temperature to preserve sperm cells for long, let alone a 100 years. So, No. No, again. Then, Edward's dick is magically able to get hard without any liquids in the body? No. And THEN, his human sperm cells (human but also vampire?) are able to make a zygote with Bella's egg cell??? A zygote with 24 (!!!) chromosome pairs???? So, it's one of each of Bella's, one of each of Edward's and then just one of the two vampire pairs?????? No. Nah-ah.

I haven't been this vocal about any of my other issues, including racism and other forms of discrimination. Somehow, I have accepted that these concepts come from very well-preserved ideas and I can plainly discuss this matter. However, the pain Stephenie Meyer has put me through as a scientist is still very unknown to me and it annoys me to the core.

I suppose, while I'm on the matter, I should address the elephant in the room. Resumé. Renesue is the embodiment of everything Bella didn't need. The book should have ended before the pregnancy. A story of a woman that found a love in a vampire and she needed nothing else in her life but him. This was the story we were promissed. And then, SM takes her turn to make the last non-conservative woman in the book a mother (her being a mother will come later).

In conclusion, this part stretched every nerve in my body and made me cringe so hard I felt sick.

Part III from Bella's point of view

I'm not gonna lie, I have been pretty dark about the last part. But I LOVE Bella as a vampire. The tranquil chapters where she learns everything about being a vampire made me confident I wanted to be one. I loved Bella more confident and comfortable. I loved the new ease between Bella and Edward. Tranquil, as I said.

Of course, these chapters are overshadowed in part by Rususme. I don't mind the child. It seems nice enough - SM made it pure. But Bella is not a very caring mother. She meets her daugther and then, both Edward and her really don't mind her. They have no urge to be with her and have no trouble letting her go. They go have sex the whole night instead of looking at Relsume's dreams. Then, there is the fact that all tense and loaden discussions are held in the presence of the exceptionally perceiving child. Edward can SEE that she understands tensions. It's so fucking dumb. It really bothered me the last time I read it, maybe because I've matured or maybe because I didn't really care the first time.

When it comes to the final battle approaching, I enjoyed that. I loved Alice's plan. I like the Volturi and their grand dramatic scheming and such. I loved the new characters very much. I think they added a whole new demension to the story. I would have been there for Edward and Bella traveling around the world meeting these people with the oncoming thread of genocide for a child as well though. Of course, the racism is back. The Amazonian and Egyptian vampires are so blatantly racistly described. In that aspect, the movie deserves way more credit for giving us the straight up prettiest actors ever to cover this.

Wrongness continues as Jacob imprints (as the second wolf) in an infant. I know some people see no issue with this. SM tried to make it clear that it was just about her happiness by letting Edward see that Jacob wasn't thinking sexually about his equivalent-of-a-three-year-old child. I mean. Looking at this logically, it's disgusting and there is no changing my mind. Personally, I feel Jacob could have imprinted on any other female character (with the exception of Leah). For all I care it was a 35-year-old woman. But, reversed pedophilia (Jacob was still underage) isn't fun for SM so she sticks with what she knows.

I think I have adressed my most important issues. Please inform me if I've missed any. As usual, I urge you to inform yourself on the Quileut Tribe as it is and donate to them for SM has wronged and exploited them.

The Quileute Tribe

Information:

Donation:

TLDR: I curse Stephenie Meyer for creating that incredibly stupid child as a way to project Jacob's love to something of Bella. Please inform yourself on the Quileute Tribe and donate to them via the links above; SM has wronged them.

As a final note, I am a biomedical scientist at heart. I am always interested in a challenging topic, so fire away.

[1x1musekeeper]

Ed Sheeran sentence starters

"I saw a shooting star and thought of you."

"You were lying next to me, I looked across and fell in love."

"If you wanna put this on me, that’s fine, I never blamed you for anything at all."

"The world looks better through your eyes."

"It's only been one night of love and maybe that is not enough."

"If I fall for you, would you fall too?"

"It's not a homeless life for me, it's just I'm home less than I'd like to be."

"I haven't slept for the past week, two hours ain't enough for me."

"I'm drunk off last nights whisky and coke."

"You can stay with me forever or you could stay with me for now."

"Outside the day is up and calling, but I don't have to be so, please go back to sleep."

"Never been better since all the therapy."

"And you know, if I let you go, I'll still keep you safe."

"You are the one I fall asleep with but never wake up to."

"The worst things in life come free to us."

"I wanna be drunk when I wake up on the right side of the wrong bed."

"What didn't kill me, it never made me stronger at all."

"I know I'll never hold you like I used to."

"I'll be drunk again to feel a little love."

"I know you'll never love me like you used to."

"I found your hair band on my bedroom floor, the only evidence that you've been here before."

"I don't drink like everybody else, I do it to forget things about myself."

"There's no chance that we'll work it out."

"I said that's fine, but you're the only one that knows I lied."

"Everybody said we'd be together forever."

"Everything's great and everything's sure, but you live in your halls and I live in a tour bus."

"Pain is only relevant if it still hurts."

"If I was gonna go somewhere, I'd be there by now."

"I should ink my skin with your name."

"I should run you a hot bath and fill it up with bubbles."

"You should never cut your hair 'cause I love the way you flick it off your shoulder."

"You will never know just how beautiful you are to me."

"Maybe you're hoping for a fairy tale, too."

"This is the start of something beautiful."

"And it's dark in a cold December, but I've got you to keep me warm."

"I'm out of touch, I'm out of love."

"I think I love you better now."

"Playing a different show every night in front of a new crowd."

"Let me sing and do my thing and move to greener pastures."

"You need me, man, I don’t need you."

"Never be anything but a singer-songwriter, yeah."

"People think that I’m bound to blow up."

"I haven’t got a house, plus I live on a couch."

"They say I’m up and coming like I'm fucking in an elevator."

"Settle down with me, and I'll be your safety, you'll be my lady."

"I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet."

"Give me love like her, 'cause lately I've been waking up alone."

"All I want is the taste that your lips allow."

"Give me love like never before, 'cause lately I've been craving more."

"It's been a while but I still feel the same... maybe I should let you go."

"Another love that's gone to waste."

"If I kissed you, will your mouth read this truth?"

"Darling, how I miss you."

"You made me scream, but then I made you cry."

"Maybe you should learn to love her like the way you wanna be loved."

"I never told her that I liked the way she dances slightly out of time and pretends she knows the words to a song she's never heard."

"You’re not her, though I try to see you differently."

"I will try to find another one who suited me as well as her."

"We never even tried, we never even talked, we never even thought in the long run."

"Whenever it was painful, whenever I was away, I’d miss you."

"I didn't mean to break your heart."

"Everybody falls apart sometimes."

"I know you've found another one, but won't you just hold me tonight."

"They don't know we don't speak anymore."

"I will stop trying to fall in love again... it never works out anyway."

"But I am not anything like I was."

"I don't wanna lose a lover and friend in one night if that's alright."

"I shouldn't have fucked with your mind and your life too many times."

"I never meant to sleep around, I was just lonely."

"When I see my future, it is with you."

"We're not friends, nor have we ever been."

"If they find out, will it all go wrong?"

"We're not friends, we could be anything."

"Friends don't treat me like you do."

"Tell me that you turned down the man who asked for your hand 'cause you're waiting for me."

"I know, you're gonna be away a while, but I've got no plans at all to leave."

"Just promise me, you'll never leave again."

"Just promise me, you'll always be a friend."

"Everything changes, but we'll be strangers if we see this through."

"I've been sat with you for most of the night, ignoring everybody here."

"Don't you worry if I disappear."

"I'm not really looking for another mistake."

"I was never looking for a friend."

"Maybe you could swing by my room around ten, baby, bring a lemon and a bottle of gin."

"Baby, if you wanted me then you should've just said."

"Maybe we'll go together and just figure it out."

"Trust and respect is what we do this for."

"You didn't need to take him to bed that's all."

"I never saw him as a threat until you disappeared with him to have sex of course."

"It's not like we were both on tour, we were staying on the same fucking hotel floor."

"I wasn't looking for a promise or commitment, but it was never just fun and I thought you were different."

"This is not the way you realize what you wanted."

"It's a bit too much, too late if I'm honest."

"Getting high as two kites when we needed to breathe."

"I'd disappear, you'd call me selfish, I understand but I can't help it."

"So we can either deal with the pain and wait to get on a plane."

"You should go, 'cause I ain't ever coming home."

"I've been livin' on the road, but then again you should know."

"You won't ever be alone... wait for me to come home."

"Loving can heal, loving can mend your soul."

"When I'm away, I will remember how you kissed me."

"How'd I get so faded?"

"I feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream."

"I've been looking for a lover, thought I'd find her in a bottle."

"I'll be feeling this tomorrow."

"You look so wonderful in your dress, I love your hair like that."

"We are surrounded by all of these lies and people who talk too much."

"You got the kind of look in your eyes as if no one knows anything but us."

"All that you are is all that I'll ever need."

"Just don’t expect me back this evening."

"I love him from my skin to my bones but I don’t wanna live in his home."

"I was raised to keep quiet."

"I don't wanna hate you."

"I kind of knew you liked the dude from private school."

"I knew he had his eyes on you."

"He's not the right guy for you."

"Don't hate me 'cause I write the truth."

"I would never lie to you but it was never fine to lose you."

"I'm just disgusted with the skeletons you sleep with in your closet."

"Fact is you're mad at me because I backtrack so casually."

"You're practically my family, if we married then I'll guess you'd have to be."

"Tragically our love just lost the will to live, but would I kill to give it one more shot? I think not."

"I don't love you, baby, I don't need you... I don't want you anymore."

"I'm not cut out for life on the road 'cause I didn't know I'd miss you this much."

"I guess I'm not the man that you need."

"Ever since you went to uni, I've been sofa surfing with a rucksack full of less cash and I guess that could get bad."

"When I broke the industry, that's when I broke your heart."

"I was supposed to chart and celebrate, but good things are over fast."

"I tend to turn you off and switch on my professional features, then I turn the music off and all I'm left with is to pick up my personal pieces."

"Success is nothing if you have no one left to share it with."

"I know you have a day job, but mine is 24/7."

"I still love you and I need you by my side if I could."

"The irony is if my career and music didn't exist, in 6 years, you'd probably be my wife with a kid."

"I'll die from a thrill, go down in history as just a wasted talent."

"Eventually I'll be fine, I know that it was never meant to be."

"These things happen for a reason and you can't change shit."

"Take my apology, I'm sorry for the honesty, but I had to get this off my chest."

"I will be loving you 'til we're 70."

"People fall in love in mysterious ways."

"I fall in love with you every single day."

"For four years I never had a place to stay."

"At 16 years old, I moved out of my home."

"I tattooed the lyrics onto my arm."

"I'll hold ya and you'll think of him."

"I'll never trust you again, you can just be a friend."

"If we should die tonight, then we should all die together."