#he may feel hatred but he doesnt want to hold onto it. he doesnt like the person it turns him into

[lord-squiggletits]

When Optimus in Chaos Theory said "Hatred may sustain you, but it diminishes me. I am lessened by it." that was so fucking deep of him

[haveihitanerve]

of course

now, as i said, my feelings towards hamnet are ambivalent. he is a good father and genuinely cares at the end, giving gregor a parental figure in all this madness that he had previously only found in ripred.

but,

he did judge an 11 year old child merely because his mother favored him. i can understand that hamnets hatred for his mother runs deeper than anyone can imagine, but that does not give him rights to judge. he immediately attacks gregor the second the boy is introduced and when gregor snaps back, because, again, he is being attacked, hamnet spins around, ready to leave them all to die just because his pride was insulted. then it takes gregor, again, an 11 year old child to own up to his insult and apologize before hamnet accepts, giving him a completely unreasonable demand of keepiing his sword tucked away when he knows gregor is untrained and he makes it clear that is the only reason he will not hold anything against gregor.

then we get to mareth. i understand, naturally, that some people ship them, and honestly i have to agree. the facts match and everything. but i did get a little sense that hamnet explicitly did not ask if mareth was in a relationship because he didnt want that on his conciense, a selfish move on his part because if hazard is six, and hes been gone for ten years, it only took him four years to have a child, less if we count forming a relationship with hazards mother and the required amount of time for caring said child in pregnancy.-now this reasoning is not that sound since we only have theories that hamnet and mareth dated, but still

and next we move onto luxa. i can understand being angry at her when she doesnt rescue gregor ripred and lapblood. i was kinda pissed to. but to insult her with her mother is a new kind of low, and need i mention it again, luxa is a child. a child who is ruling all of regalia, yes. but still a child. hamnet knows nothing about her. she lost her parents to rats when she was younger than eight. her cousin betrayed her for rats when she was eleven. she has been taught to fear them and almost lost her life to them multiple times over the past few quests. in fact, the only reason she and aurora are even in the jungle, isolated away from home, afraid and with no way to return, is because of rats. so excuse her if shes not jumping at an oppurtunity to save them. a few years before, hamnet may not have either. especially not if he had all the emotional weight she does.

now back to gregor because holy crap theres a lot there. gregor saves lapbloods life. he breaks his promise to hamnet, yes, but he saves her life. and, in response to my previous comments, hamnet had said he and gregor could put aside all the stuff with solovet, only as long as gregor kept the sword away, an unreasonable demand that gregor had no choice but to accept. but, gregor being such a good boy, who hates being a rager need i add, admits to feeling the weight of hamnets gaze and feeling ashamed, even when he has no reason to. yes his rager came out without control. yes he broke a promise(that ive mentioned i dislike) and yes it probably wasnt cool to watch. but hamnet had no right to say 'it is not reassuring' and further hurt him. again, GREGOR IS A CHILD!!!!!! and ripred knows him better than hamnet, and is a rager who understands the struggle and accepted the boy. so butt out hamnet

oh and also the way he makes luxa promise not to let hazard be a warrior. i get it, i do. but its his dying wish, which means luxa will feel horrible if she breaks it, but its hazards choice. i hate when people do that and as their dying wish expect something from someone who should have no control over someone elses life. luxa will never let hazard even touch a weapon now because it was his dying wish, and whos to say if hazard wants to, but it should be his choice

anyways yeah. those are just some thoughts. honestly i dont think hamnet sucks per se, i do think he has some good qualities and i like his banter with ripred and especially when he talked back to solovet, but something about him always rubbed me the wrong way. hes fine in general, but i am kinda glad that he was only present for one book and i dont really understand the hype around him.

mareth on the other hand....

If Hamnet has 100 haters, im one of them

If Hamnet has 10 haters, im one of them

If Hamnet has 1 hater, its me

If the entire world is with Hamnet, im against the whole world

If Hamnet has no haters, i am dead

[thepictureofsdr]

matthew come down

this is a rewrite of an old post but i need to get this out so here

tw /// mentions of suicide , suicidal thoughts , mental health

ok so i’ll set the scene for what i imagine, the main characters like the merry thieves, cordelia, lucie, maybe anna, looking up at matthew standing on the edge of a roof as the song suggests.i imagine this as an animatic, so not 100% realistic, you’ll see what i mean.

i added a bit more from other hc’s, its a little long w the lyrics so its all under the cut :)

~~~~~~~~~

verse 1

Achilles come down, won’t you,

Get up off the roof

You’re scaring us, Some of us love you

Achilles, it’s not much but there’s proof

this doesnt have much meaning, it can be whomever you want to imagine, maybe multiple people, maybe thomas, lucie, cordelia, thomas, maybe all of them, whatever.

~~~~~

verse 2

Remember the pact of our youth.

Where you go I’m going, So jump and I’m jumping

Since there is no me without you

ok now this verse is james,

“Remember the pact of our youth. Where you go, I’m going, So jump and I’m jumping, Since there is no me without you”

this sounds almost like the parabatai oath, a pact made in youth, to follow where the other goes. this is james’s attempt to get him to come down. he’s telling matthew that he’s not broken, reminding matthew of their bond, reminding him that he’s loved and wanted no matter what 

~~~~~

Hurt and grieve but don’t suffer alone

Engage with the pain as a motive

How the most dangerous thing is to love

How you will heal and you’ll rise above

this works as a continuation of james, an attempt to empathise and comfort and show love, maybe he finds out about matthew’s love for cordelia and the end of the verse is a comment on that, or matthew has a bout of struggle with his sexuality. take your pick. and once again, a promise of healing and moving on.

~~~~~

verse 3

Jump now, You are absent of cause, Or excuse

So self-indulgent, And self-referential, No audience could ever want you

You crave the applause, Yet hate the attention, Then miss it, your act is a ruse It is empty, Achilles

So end it all now, It’s a pointless resistance, For you

now this is matthew’s own brain, his mental pain, alcoholism, trauma, his self hatred, all of it talking, pretty simple. it’s the dark part of his mind telling him to jump and to end it all.

this is where my animatic vision comes in, i imagine this happening as matthew seeing a replica of himself like a ghost or a shadow with a cruel smile saying this to the real matthew’s face.

~~~~~

verse 4

Just put down the bottle, Don’t listen to what you’ve consumed

It’s chaos, confusion, And wholly unworthy, Of feeding and it’s wholly untrue

You may feel no purpose, Nor a point for existing

It’s all just conjecture and gloom

And there may not be meaning, So find one and seize it

Do not waste your self on this roof

Hear those bells ring deep in the soul, Chiming away for a moment

Feel your breath course frankly below,See life as a worthy opponent

Today of all days

See, How the most dangerous thing is to love, How you will heal and you’ll rise above

Crowned by an overture bold and beyond, Ah, it’s more courageous to overcome

here comes alastair. i imagine him running up because he somehow found out what was happening, of course they all hate him at the moment and maybe they try to shove him away knowing how math feels about alastair, but he pushes through anyway and begins to talk to matthew.

alastair knows all too well the effects of alcohol and he knows math has a problem so he begins by addressing that. then he moves on to letting math know he understands those feelings of self hatred and depression, he can empathize. he lets matthew know it can get better, you can create a meaning for your life, you can overcome this. once again another mention of love, maybe a sexuality mention?

alastairs whole story is about self hatred and self forgivness and learning to move on from the past and self acceptence. alastair continues to push people away in cog2 because he’s continuing to punish himself and hold onto that self hatred, he knows what matthew is going through

~~~~~

You want the acclaim

The mother of mothers (it’s not worth it Achilles)

[whole verse of inner thoughts vs achilles]

I gave you my thoughts

Be done with this now

And jump off the roof

i imagine this as the main lyrics being spoken once again by that dark twin of matthew and the parentheses being spoken by the characters still on the ground talking up to him, and then matthew speaking directly to the shadow, as alastair runs up the stairs of the building.

~~~~

Can you hear me Achilles?

I’m talking to you  

Achilles come down

alastair reaches the roof and he’s speaking directly to matthew, his last effort to convince matthew, hand outstretched, allowing matthew to step off the ledge down to him on the solid roof. and on the last line matthew does step down and collapses into alastair. he may hate alastair but he’s too tired to keep that up for the moment.

~~~~~

Throw yourself into the unknown

With pace and a fury defiant

Clothe yourself in beauty untold

And see life as a means to a triumph

Today of all days

See,

How the most dangerous thing is to love

How you will heal and you’ll rise above

Crowned by an overture bold and beyond

Ah, it’s more courageous to overcome

alastair comforts matthew one last time, matthew may hate him but alastair is the only one who can truly understand what’s going through his mind and that’s basically all i imagine for this song in the context of the last hours.

~~~~~

from this post

“and later, they ask alastair how he knew what to say to get matthew to step down, and alastair just sadly looks at thomas and asks if he remembers a night at the academy where they stargazed together. thomas of course says yes, and alastair simply responds “remember, when you first came up, you asked me why i was so close to edge? no one stands that close just to try to see the stars behind a cloud.”

alastair knew what to say to get matthew to step down, because he knows what it’s like to be the one on the roof

~~~~~

from this post

“he just wants everything to stop and he can’t breathe and the tears keep falling and he has no one to talk to he has no one to fall back on and sometimes the edge of the roof looks sweeter than the hell behind him but he remembers cordelias smile and he takes a deep breath and swears he’ll become the devil himself before he leaves her at the mercy of the truth of their father alone.”

~~~~~~

yes it’s two different scenarios, but alastair spent a while at the academy it’s not exactly unlikely that he would feel that way more than once :(

[shadedrose01]

Truth or Dare (Yes, I Double Dare You)

Ships: Parkner (Harley Keener/Peter Parker), mentioned Thompsborn (Harry Osborn/Flash Thompson)

Summary: Peter play Truth or Dare with his friends.

Tags: Febufluff, Day 8, I dare you to kiss me, Truth or Dare, Party Games, Birthday Party, They play truth or dare y'all, Peter has a crush on Harley, Harley likes him back, Thompsborn is in this too, Bisexual Peter Parker, Gay Harley Keener, Dare, Calling your crush, admitting feelings, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, Kissing, Cute, Fluff, a lot of swearing, I dont know why i made them swear so much, im sorry lol, Bad French, Poor translated french, I Tried

Day eight of Febufluff: "I dare you to... kiss me"!

--

"Hmm, I dare you to speak in a French accent for the next three rounds." Flash grins over his cup, swirling the drink in front of his mouth before taking a sip, watching the smile drop off of his boyfriend's face, an incredulous expression replacing it.

"Seriously?!?"

"Yes, seriously! And that wasn't in an accent!"

"Oui, oui, baguette." Harry deadpans, looking so entirely done with Flash's bullshit, the entire room erupting into laughter as said boy sits up, shoving his boyfriend's shoulder hard.

"No halfassed bullshit, dickwad. The real deal."

"Fine, you want the real deal?" Harry sits up straight, and Peter starts giggling like a mad man from the other side of the room, leaning against the wall to watch the scene unfold, knowing exactly what is about to happen. Harry clears his throat, holds a dramatic pause for a few seconds, before- "Tu veux un accent francaise, tu vas recevoir un accent francaise."

"Oh my god, I forgot he spoke French!" Flash moans, slowly slipping down the wall in shame.

"Oh la la, ma chérie, qu'est ce que tu as fais, eh?" Harry grins, smug, cheeky, knowing he's won this hand as his boyfriend sinks even lower, his head almost level with the ground, his face red.

"And why is it so hot?!?"

"Okay, okay, enough." Ned laughs, sitting chris cross apple sauce beside Peter, the party hat sat on the top of his head beginning to sag.

It was Ned's 17th birthday, and instead of throwing a big party full of alcohol and loud music like most people in their classes did, he decided to have a smaller party, a sleepover full of board games, video games and now party games, with his closest friends, with their friend group. So here they all were, packing into Ned's smaller sized room, Flash and Harry practically conjoined at the hip sitting against the wall, Peter and Ned sitting on top of his bed on the other side of the room, and MJ and Harley leaning against said bed, sat on the floor, playing what would hopefully be a quick game of Truth or Dare. Hopefully.

Peter had never liked this game. There was always too much risk for him in this game, of being asked to reveal one of his many secrets, or of being asked to embarrass himself for laughs. He gets the appeal of it, the adrenaline rush, the amusement of watching your friends do something stupid, it's a fun game to watch, but that doesn't mean he likes playing it. He hadnt even called on yet though, and he was hoping to keep it that way.

He shouldn't have jinxed it.

As if his thoughts manifested into reality, Harry turns to stare at him with a unknown, horrifying glint in his eyes. Oh no, this is definitely not going to end well. "Action ou Vérité?"

Peter sighs, looking up to the ceiling as he mumbles "Dare.", assuming that's what Harry asked. If he's going to go down, he may as well go down in style.

Harry's grin widens, and Peter is already regretting his decision. "Je te défie de telephoner ton béguin."

Peter blinks at him in confusion, before MJ translates, "He's daring you to call your crush."

"What?!?" Peter sputters, Harry cackling at  his flushing face while Harley speaks up for the first time in a while, his ('beautiful, gorgeous, fuck-') face turned towards MJ, scrunched up in thought.

"You know French? Since when?"

MJ just shrugs, face impartial, the only sign of her shyness being her pushing a stray hair behind her ear. "Since I got bored one day and learned it."

Harley just nods, like that makes sense, all while Peter is internal freaking the fuck out. Normally, this type of thing wouldn't be an issue. Sure, your friends will find out who your crush is, and tease you about it, and it'll be embarassing and whatever, but that's not the problem. Oh no no no no no, that would be too easy for Peter Parker. No, the problem with this question for Peter is that his crush is in the damn room, sitting directly in front of him leaning against the bed, an easy smile tilting up his thin pink lips, showing off his adorable dimples as he scans the room again with those big, stunning ocean blue eyes, hair coiffed back just right, messy, but just neat enough to be perfect, one stray blond curl falling in front of his eyes and fuck, fuck, frick fuck.

What is he going to do?!? He can't exactly call Harley when he's right in front of him, but he can't exactly say that he won't do it either, he wont be that guy. And now everybody is staring at it, expectant, waiting, shit, shit, shit-

Ned's eyes are the only ones that are sympathetic, because he knows, he knows who Peter likes and why this is such a big deal. Harley is one of Peter's best friends, they've been friends for years, and Peter is closer to Harley than he is to anybody else, he cant just throw it all away because of a game, can he? Harley definitely doesnt like him back, so if he does call him, it'll only end badly, but theres this tiny, tiny, traitorous part of him that wants to fo it, wants to tell him, if only to get it out in the open. But he cant ruin their friendship like that, he cant, but- but- oh god, oh no-

"Come on, Parker, we don't have all day." Flash complains innocently, not knowing of Peter's internal dilemma as he throws a stray piece of popcorn at him, Peter catching it subconsciously and throwing it into his mouth, just to try and get a few more seconds of peace before all hell breaks loose, before he destroys his closest friendship with his stupid ass feelings, goddamn it-

"Yeah, Pete, come on, dont keep us on the end of our seats." Harley teases, placing his head onto the blankets and looking back at him upside down, his hair surrounding his head like a halo, making him look even more angelic that he normally does, and god, why him, why? "Who's caught your eye, hm?"

Peter takes a deep, long, shaky breath, trying to prepare himself for the worst (and failing), taking his phone out of his pocket and scrolling down to Harleys contract, the black letters and two heart emojis on either side staring back at him mockingly. He hovers his thumb over the call button, noting how much its trembling, before he gulps and presses it, placing the phone to his ear, squeezing his eyes shut like a coward, unable to watch, knowing that Harleys expression was going shift, was going to turn from soft and warm, friendly, to hard and angry, to hatred and disgust and-

ACDC blares out into the room, the noise very obviously Harley's ringtone, and Peter grits his teeth, biting his tongue hard, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Wha-" Harley sounds so confused, so so confused, and Peter's squeezes his eyes shut tighter, holding back the burning tears that are threatening to spill. "Peter, why are you- wait..." He stops, pauses, and Peter digs his nails into his palm, squeezing his phone until he hears it start to crack. "...really?"

His voice is shaky, and god, Peter made him upset, he is probably so hurt, so confused, so disgusted, god stupid, you're so stupid, why would you do that, why didnt you just not do it, why why why-

He nods once, slowly, swallowing down a sob before whispering out "I'm sorry," into the now eerily silent room, his friends seemingly shocked into silence. He doesnt even want to know what they're thinking, what expressions are on their faces-

Theres another pause, another moment before he hears somebody shifting, Harley standing up, he's leaving, he's leaving- Good job, Parker, now you're forcing him to leave, you made him feel so uncomfortable that he's leaving, good fricken job, god, what is wrong with you-

A hand rubs his cheek gently, so so gently, spurring him out of his head as it brushes away a tear that had broken free, before another hand joins it on his other cheek, cradling his face. Peter blinks opens his eyes, shocked to see that its Harleys hands on his face, and that its Harley sat right in front of his face, with a wide smile and glowing eyes, face bright. "You mean it? You really mean it?"

Peter just nods again, so, so confused but also filling with a spark of hope, of joy as Harley's smile grows even more, filling his face before he launches into Peter's arms, hugging him tightly. "Oh thank god," he breathes into Peter's shoulder, and Peter is so lost, what is happening- "I thought you  were gonna call someone else, and I was gonna have to act all happy and like it didn't bother me when it totally would have and-"

"Wait, wait," Peter finally puts together the pieces, and pulls away to stare at Harley with wide eyes, the beginning of a smile twitching at his lips. "You like me back?"

"Yeah?" Harley cheeks grow a rosey hue, and he looks away bashfully. "I thought it was obvious."

Peter shakes his head wildly, eyes still wide, this cant be happening, he likes me back, he likes me- "No, no it wasn't, it really really wasn't-"

"So, what I'm hearing," MJ cuts in, tone blunt as always, but with hints of warm amusement softening the usual edge, "is that you two are oblivious idiots."

They both laugh breathless, staring into each others eyes. "Apparently." Harley murmurs, his blue eyes swirling and flickering up and down, looking down at his lips before looking back up again.

Peter gets an idea, a cheesy, cheesy idea, and grins. "Hey, it's my turn now, right?" He asks to the group, never taking his eyes off of Harley.

"Yeeup!" Ned responds enthusiastically, seemingly thrilled to see his two best friends realizing their feelings for one another.

"Well," he leans forward a bit more, watching as Harleys pupil's grow bigger. "Truth or dare, Harls."

"Dare." He responds easily, quickly, seemingly getting more and more antsy by the second. Peter can't blame him, he feels the same way.

"I dare you to kiss me." Peter doesnt even finish his sentence before Harley's lips are pressed to his, his hands moving upwards and running through his hair, fingers grabbing lightly onto the strands as Peter grabs his hips lightly, pulling him closer, both of the boys grinning into the kiss. Peter can hear MJ gagging in the background, Harry exclaiming "gross!" like he doesnt kiss Flash every two seconds, and Ned squealing like a fangirl, but he ignores it all, just focusing on Harley, focusing on this moment, his heart swelling in his chest.

[jasondean]

i'm sending you the first thing i thought of when i tried to think of an ask to send you. so. here's this cursed thing. heathersstuck.

ohhh my god okay first of all im gonna preemptively apologize for how long this is about to be. 

another disclaimer that this is all gonna be based on my knowledge of the alternia that we see in homestuck itself because i havent gotten super into hiveswap yet. and, as we all know, any good homestuck au is one where the contending canon is thrust into the homestuck universe as opposed to the other way around. so im gonna spare everyone the painful ideation of plucking a small handful from the VAST homestuck cast just to put them into the plot of heathers

im ALSO gonna preface that im thinking about the heathers film while writing this, not the musical. and im not gonna go into anything regarding martha, betty, kurt, or ram because i think focusing on the main cast is enough for right now lol. 

anyway, potential positions in the blood caste system as well as god tier assignments under the cut!  

so ive definitely thought about this on several occasions and ive seen some heatherstuck content where the heathers are trolls right. the thing is, the color symbolism from both media dont line up. and the heathers being drawn to keep their original colors just doesnt work out with the hemospectrum. like no way is heather chandler a red blood or mutant blood (imo itd make sense for jd to have mutant blood). the heathers being red, yellow, and green blooded would just make them a group of lowbloods and that doesnt fit with the power structure depicted in either canon. 

heather chandler would absolutely have fuchsia blood! i couldnt imagine it any other way. duke could maybe get away with being jade blooded because thatd put her in the midblood range but also what does that leave for mcnamara? i dont really have a good answer for that right now but - 

the heathers themselves aside, veronica would actually be pretty well suited for being some kind of blueblood (teal or cerulean maybe?) veronica being blue blooded would put her in a position of enough privilege to be taken under chandlers wing but also not privileged enough to naturally be at the top. 

jd would probably be rust or mutant blooded. but its also fun to consider: purple blood? since those in that blood class are more susceptible to becoming more ..unhinged. however, i personally favor rust or mutant blooded since i am partial to reds and it would help play into his hatred of society.

trolls or not though theyd all be destined for something right? so im gonna move onto potential god tiers. 

now this is where my laptop cut out so most of the classpect analyses themselves come with help fom http://dahniwitchoflight.tumblr.com

im imagining veronica as a rogue of space. first of all, space players are CRUCIAL to a session as one of the cardinal aspects (space & time making up the fabric of paradox space). its been said by calliope that space can be a passive aspect that holds great power, “hosting the stage before suddenly in some way ‘showing who the master truly is’” and then collapsing in on itself. space players are essential to sessions because it falls on them to light the forge which is necessary for the process of ultimate alchemy (creating the next universe) - and that aside, the idea of veronica collecting and breeding frogs is incredibly cute to me. 

“Those bound to the aspect of Space are, as the name suggests, concerned with the big picture. They are patient, masters of the art of ‘wait-and-see’, and are inclined to take things as they come. That isn’t to say that they’re pushovers or willing to let injustice lie-they just choose their battles wisely, understanding that sometimes you have to let something burn to the ground in order to build it back better and stronger than before. To this effect, they tend to be innovators, concerned with creation and redemption. Catch them recycling the old to make the new, the fresh, and the beautiful. For the Space-bound, the journey is as, if not more, important than the destination; how they do something is as important as what they do. At their best, they are steady, impartial, and creative. At their worst, they can be detached, apathetic, and vague.”    – this description of space players comes from the extended zodiac quiz itself 

rogues invite theft through their aspect or theft of their aspect. they have problems coping with their aspect or their supposed lack of it, they think that they cant handle it which causes them to give it up too easily. the challenge rogues face is to come to terms with their aspect and own it. 

heres a bit on rogues of space specifically: “They might have a tendency to quickly change the subject into others things or cover their interests up to distract from what they perceive to be their failed creations. They may feel uncomfortable with the thought that everything is random and meaningless in the universe, or that it is what you make of it, because they often think they don’t know what to make of it. They may feel lonely at times and feel like they have too much Space to themselves, wanting to fill it up with other people and things. They might lower their standards to the point that they give up their personal Space to someone not worthy enough, just so they won’t feel alone.On the flip side they might feel like they have too much stuff, maybe because they invite others to use up their Space, giving it away too readily, lamenting their lack of impatience with others, or the ability to say no to people. […] a Rogue’s challenge is to learn to be comfortable with their Aspect, and allow the healthy parts of it to enter their lives. They must learn to be okay with what they have right now, that they have it within themselves to change things and make them better. They don’t have to give up so easily.”

jd seems like hed obviously be a prince of doom and this feels self explanatory but. princes are described as being stubborn and pessimistic and they actively destroy using their class / destroy through their class. a princes challenge is to not end up destroying themselves along the way. doom aspect because not only does it pretty much encompass chaos, but the symbol (and the aspect itself has been speculated to be) pretty clearly draws from The Tumor which is. a giant fucking bomb essentially. another fun tidbit about doom players is that they are DEATH MAGNETS they die a LOT and its theorized that for this reason sburb has a sort of game mechanic in place to help balance that out by granting doom players multiple dream selves. i just think itd be really fun to see a sburb session where jd (maybe) cant be kept down by dying. doom is also associated with judgement and sacrifice, and have been said to be “fates chosen sufferers.” “doom players are wise, kind, and non judgmental at their best and bitter, resentful, and fatalistic at their worst.” 

and while i definitely think the doom class is fitting for jd im stuck between prince and bard? bards are the embodiment of the “wild card”. they allow destruction through their aspect / invite destruction through their aspect and their challenge is to not be ruled by the whims of their aspect. and im just now thinking that while this does make sense in its own way, princes and bards are active / passive opposites and i cant really imagine jd being the more laid back of the two. hes just too extra, lol. although i love the idea of jd being in that ridiculous bard getup 

heres some insight to princes of doom: “A Prince of Doom unapologetically pushes people way past their own limits. They are truly passionate, even almost crazy activists. They hate being told no or that they can’t do something, but are more likely to simply destroy or kill the person who said no then prove them otherwise. Depending on what kind of situation or session they find themselves in, and whether or not what they do is really needed at the moment, they can be heaven sent saviors, freeing people from what binds them, or terrifying dictators, ruling over people and enforcing their will wherever they want, letting nothing and no one limit what they do. […] They likely use Bombs and Fire as their main weapons. They have a lot of potential to go down a very destructive or even evil path if they use their powers irresponsibly, but not every Prince of Doom is automatically evil or will Doom their session.“

heather chandler i can definitely see being a witch of rage. witches manipulate using their aspect or manipulate their aspect directly and their challenge is to use their rule breaking powers in a morally conscious way. 

heres some info about witches of rage: “You don’t tell a Witch of Rage anything, they tell you. Anything you have to say they can Reject with Doubt, Negativity and Skepticism and be like ‘No you’re wrong, it’s actually this way.’ They manipulate fear, mistrust and anger, either lowering it or making you believe it’s not all that bad, even if it is. Or they can amplify it, making you paranoid and afraid of even mundane things. […] They can be ‘loose cannons’ and this can be good or bad, depending on how good you are on getting them on your side and keeping them there. Their entire moral challenge lies in the choice between using their powers on their allies or their enemies, like most witches.”  

heather duke would likely be a maid of mind. a maid creates with their aspect / creates their aspect, and a maids challenge is to rely on themself for their aspect. this absolutely isnt to say that duke cannot think for herself at the beginning of the story by any means.

here’s a bit about maids of mind: “At first they tend to defer to the decisions of the group rather than be a part of them and are more focused on watching and waiting and seeing how other people make decisions. […] When a Maid of Mind starts rising to their challenge, they start deciding for themselves what roles they need to play and when. […] They may just have an apathetic and indifferent personality in general. They start letting their thoughts and decision be known and have an effect instead of just referring to others and blending in.” 

and finally heather mcnamara would probably be a page of heart. (i had a hard time coming up with a god tier for her since, if im being honest, shes not a character i pay much attention to.) pages invite exploitation of their aspect / invite exploitation through their aspect. they start with a deficit in their aspect that they overcome through (obvious) overcompensation. their challenge is to keep at things, even if they fail or the journey is slow, to become stronger in the end. 

bit about pages of heart: “They can be very over dramatic in their emotional displays, blowing up every little thing completely out of proportion and giving disproportionate emotional responses to almost everything. […] They can be easily exploited through all of this by other people who either take advantage of the Page’s emotions and empathy, or take advantage of the Page’s obsessions and desires, using it against them. […] When they rise up to their challenge, they start learning to be more balanced and sincere with their emotions, their affections, and with themselves. They learn how to be passionate, sincere and truly honest with themselves and others.”

and all of this is just SOME of the possibilities of what could happen in a homestuck heathers au. would they all be in the same session? would they all be trolls? would the heathers & veronica be in their own session and jd be in his own session that ends up intertwining together? theres literally SO MANY possibilities when it comes to homestuck aus and i love that shit. 

now that ive spent so much time speculating all this its time to deposit myself directly into the dumpster 

[sleepychai]

Hey could you do a Virgilxreader where the reader has known Thomas for a while through YouTube & is a theatre student so is very passionate about dance singing & acting. Virgil really likes the reader but tries to cover it up, so teases their dancing, singing, acting & YouTube so that no one will realise his feelings (maybe one of the sides could know) the reader doesn't think he likes them back because of his teasing, it's only when he sees them cry that he realises how much he hurt them

Hi sorry it took so long. It’s finally here. It’s like 2:20 am here as I’m finishing this off so I may edit it later when i have the brain power to. Anyway I hope you enjoy. Also I will be uploading a new request post with more options on requests.

Also I’m not giving this a title because i feel like this doesnt need one. 

One more thing I’m sorry if this is shitty, this is my first sanders sides x reader.

Virgil x Reader

Words: 2791

“Until next time, take it easy guys,”

“Gals,”

“And Non-Binary pals!” Thomas and I finish together, posingridiculously in front of the camera before bursting out into a fit of laughter.

“Oh my goodness that was great! We have to do this againsome time!” Thomas exclaims as he turns off his camera.

“Definitely, we have to do a collab more often.” I reply asI throw the rest on the unused beans into the nearby bin.

“Thanks again Joan for reading the questions.”

“Your welcome. It was fun watching your reactions.” Joanreplies.

“Just don’t make me try the brown one again. Ick! I stillcan’t get the taste of dog food out of my mouth.” I cringe and poke my tongueout briefly.

“But shouldn’t you be used to it?” I freeze for a secondbefore I groan quietly to myself. The voice is laced with mockery and agitation.The voice that sounds exactly like Thomas, except it’s not. “It’s the perfectdefinition of your own channel.”

I slowly turn around towards the couch where a slumpedVirgil appears with a dark smirk. I close my eyes and breathe calmly. I force asmall smile on my face before opening my eyes.

“Hi Virgil. It’s always nice to know what other people thinkof my content.” My voice is strained and forced and dripping with innocentvenom.

“I’m only speaking for the behalf of the viewers who watchyour crappy content.” Virgil replies coarsely. “They only watch your videosbecause they pity you.”

“Virgil!” Thomas snaps, glaring daggers at Virgil who seemsto be unfazed by Thomas’ voice.

“It’s ok Thomas.” I say whilst holding my hands up in agesture to stop the glare. “I’m used to it by now.”

Thomas stops his glare at Virgil and stares at me almostsympathetically, obviously noticing the sorrow that had threaded itself into myvoice. I’ve always had a crush on Virgil from the day I met him. Although he isa replica of Thomas, he has his own persona, literally. Sure he might tease meabout everything I do but I’ve learnt to cope with it, even though it still causesmy heart to break at every insult. I always find the connection of love to him.But I know he’ll never feel the same about me, especially considering how muchhe bullies me. Sure, I have my own insecurities about myself and yeah, Virgil’steasing doesn’t help it but what can you do to fight against love?

I pull out my phone and check the time that reads 1:21pm. Iturn back to Thomas who has gone back to glaring at Virgil.

“I better go. I need to pick up my costume and buy some moremakeup. I’ll see you tonight at Theatre Class?”

Before Thomas gets a chance to reply, Virgil once againtakes his opportunity.

“You’ll be needing a lot of the makeup to cover up that faceof yours, don’t want to scare away anyone with that hideous face of yours.”Virgil says bluntly.

“VIRGIL!” Thomas shouts causing me to flinch slightly. Iquickly grab my bag of head towards the front door.

“See you later!” I call out as I exit the house and closethe door. I make quick steps to leave the front garden and walk down thestreet.

Once I turn the first corner, I let the tears that I heldback fall down and make streams across my cheeks. I sniffle a bit and dry myeyes, letting my (h/l) hair fall down and hide my face (for short hairedreaders, a hoodie will be over your head). I take slow deep breaths, timing themwith the pace of my footsteps. By the time I reach the bus stop I almostcollapse in sobs, wanting to let it all out, scream out all my agony andheartache, the regret and misery, the burning self-hatred for being so in lovewith a man who puts me through mental torture. I feel the desperation to cryout to the world and scream away my pain, but I don’t. I bottle it up and pushit down, using all my mental energy to forget those emotions.

The bus arrives a short time later. I quietly board the busand sit down by a window seat, looking out the window yet keeping my facehidden from anyone else.

/\Virgil’s POV/\

I slump against the corner of my room after practicallybeing forced back into my room by Thomas. He gave me this big lecture aboutbullying (Y/n), but I didn’t listen.

The truth is that I actually like them, a lot, and not in aplatonic way. I’m just too afraid to admit it, so I tease them to cover up myfeelings for them. I never like to show emotions, especially feelings ofaffection. I’m always worried that I’ll do or say something wrong or ruin therelationship.

If I wasn’t so nervous about confessing, I would’ve havedone it by now. But that doesn’t stop the possible fact that they won’t likeme, which is another reason why I don’t confess. The feeling of possibleheartbreak is worse than not knowing, so I choose to not show my feelings tothem.

A beam of light enters my dark room. I look up from mycorner, peering over my bed and to my door where a very irritated Roman stands.He swings the door fully open allowing my room to absorb the bright light as hewalks over towards me, stopping a few inches from me.

I look at him blankly, almost telling him to fuck off.

“Those were very hurtful things you said to them.” Hestarts.

Oh boy, here we goagain.

I sigh and return my gaze to them floor, preparing myself foranother lecture. But instead of a speech of what I did wrong, I get a sigh. Ithen feel Roman sit beside me, legs spread out straight in front of him.

“You know you can’t keep doing this to them.” I lift my headup enough to look at him, seeing him stare at me with a knowing smirk. “You’llhave to confess sooner or later.”

I scoff, turning back to the floor. “I think I’ll savemyself the heartbreak.”

“Yes, but whilst you’re doing so, you are also engulfingyourself in heartache. You can’t stop love.”

I growl lowly, knowing he’s right.

“Have you even thought to consider how they may feel?”

“They hate me.”

“Maybe, not really what I’m talking about right now. Do youknow how your words are affecting them?”

I perk up slightly, looking into his eyes which hold withseriousness, something strange to Roman. “What do you mean?”

“Well, before they left the front yard, I saw a few tears rundown their cheeks. Have you considered how your words might be causing them emotional pain? Some of the things you say have been really hurtful, sometimesI see them clench their fists so hard they turn white.”

I now fully look up, a force of guilt and worry washing overme. “So what? Their feeling anger.” My voice comes out almost strained,attempting to my emotions.

“I don’t think it’s just anger, and not specifically at you.What would you do if they start to believe your words?”

“Tch, their smarter than that, they wouldn’t actuallybelieve anything I say.”

“Yes but you’ve been bullying her for a while. Maybe yourwords have finally crawled their way to them on an emotional level.”

My mouth hangs agape. The reality slowly coming into myrealization. What if what Roman’s saying, is true? What if I’m actuallystarting to hurt them on a deep emotional level?

My thoughts stop abruptly when a hand on my shoulder pullsme back towards Roman. He looks at me with a stern gaze. “You have to confessto her. I would suggest you ask Thomas to come to theatre practice tonight anddo it then.”

My eyes widen in shock and disbelief. My mind fights betweenconfessing tonight or holding it off for more.

“The more you hold it off, the more possibility of you losingthem forever.” Roman adds.

Losing them forever? What does he mean? Before I give myselfa chance to debate over what to do, I blurt out; “I’ll do it tonight. I’llconfess to them tonight.”

Roman breaks out into his wide grin and cheery attitude.“That’s my boy Virgil! I’ll go tell Thomas!”

Before I get to stop him, he’s up and out of the roomrunning down the hall towards Thomas. I sigh, a small weight seemingly liftingoff of me.

I’m going to confess to them, I’m going to confess myfeelings to them. I keep repeating that in my head, knowing I’ll have no way ofbacking out.

I breathe deeply, turning back to the door before yellingout.

“You forgot to close the door!!!”

~Timeskip~

/\Your POV/\

I complete my back flip and land softly, feeling thepounding beat of the music as I sing my last verse. The words come out cleanand well-pitched, the notes matching the tune in perfect sync. I sing out thelast note, holding it for as long as I can, only stopping when the music stopped.

I stand there, panting as the rest of my dance crew freezein their positions, some looking at each other while others are looking out tothe audience.

“Ok, that was fantastic guys!” The producer says, clappingloudly along with the rest of the class. “(Y/n) your dancing crew did great! Andyour singing sounded excellent! The whole performance looked fantastic!”

I huff out and wipe my face with a nearby towel. My tightsand gym shirt almost soaked in sweat. I pull my face away from the towel enoughto see Thomas walking towards me. My eyes falter over to Virgil, who slouchesonto a bench. Our eyes meet for a split second before a shift my gaze to theapproaching Thomas.

“Oh my goodness (Y/n) your dancing was flawless! I can’twait till the show next week! You and your dance crew will be so cool and I betthat you’ll pump up the audience just by your moves!” Thomas cheers with a widegrin.

I can only smile and laugh lightly with him. But myhappiness seemed fake. I didn’t feel like I did well. I was shit. I messed up alot of the footing and almost fell at one point. I don’t even know why theproducer praised me even though I messed up a lot. A lot of my notes werestrained and some of them were out of tune. Don’t get me wrong, I’m extremelypassionate about what I do but sometimes by efforts are put to shame. SometimesI feel like I’m the worst out of everyone here. Luckily Thomas seemed to notnotice. That or he’s deciding not to say anything.

“Thanks.” I mumble. “Hey, I’m going to go to the changerooms. I need a break for a bit.”

“Sure! Go ahead, you deserve it after the dance you did.”Thomas then walks off to another group talking amongst each other.

I quickly grab my water bottle and rush towards the changerooms, tears threatening to fall. I push open the door and rush to the back ofthe lockers, collapsing on the ground in tears. I bring my knees to my chest,sobbing into them with no thought of stopping anytime soon.

I let the tears stream down my face, the emotions flowingwith them, the anger, the sadness, the loneliness.

I let the tears bring them out. The heartbreak from Virgilbullying me. Knowing that he’ll never return my feelings. The pain from hiswords hurting me emotionally, me finally coming to believe them. I feel theloneliness of being the odd one out. I never feel like a part of the class. Ifeel like I’m only here because of how passionate I seem to be.

A door squeaks open and I gasp, my body freezing in spot. Myeyes widen and I mentally panic, afraid of who entered the change rooms.

I stay silent as I hear quiet footsteps come closer to mylocation. I slowly scooch away from the footsteps, only stopping when my backhits the wall. My hand flies to my mouth as my breathing becomes more uneven. Ibring my knees closer to my chest, hugging them with my free arm.

Agonizing seconds pass as the footsteps get nearer beforefinally the person reveals themselves. And oh how I wish it wasn’t him.

Virgil slowly rounds the corner and stares at me, eyeswidening at my form. “(Y/n)” His voice his soft and gentle, almost in a caringway.

That’s all it takes for me to break. I choke out a sob andclose my eyes, scared to see the tormenting look Virgil is no doubt giving me.At least I thought that’d be the first thing he’d do. But it’s not.

Instead I get warm arms wrapped around me tightly. I snap myeyes open only to see Virgil’s jumpers as he tucks my head into his shoulder. Iattempt to push him away, unsure of why he’s doing this. Wondering whether he’sshowing my pity or simply trying to fool me. He starts softly speaking into myear, making my body freeze.

“I’m so sorry (Y/n), I didn’t mean to say any of thosestupid things to you.” His voice sounds genuine and upset, like he’s regretful.“I didn’t mean for any of those words to hurt you. Everything that I said isthe complete opposite of what I think you are. I was only saying those thingsbecause I was afraid of admitting my true feelings towards you.”

I gasp lightly at his words, pulling my head out of hisshoulder enough to look at his face. I peer into his eyes which hold sorrow andsomething unidentifiable. “What?” I whisper.

Virgil sighs and leans against my forehead. He then bringshis hands up to my face and wipes away the stream of tears. “I was so scared aboutrevealing my feelings towards you. I was and am afraid of you rejecting me. Ididn’t want to risk the heart break.”

“Wh-What are you saying?” My voice comes out strained andairy, almost as if my whole voice had disappeared.

Virgil breathes deeply before replying. “(Y/n), I…I loveyou.”

I can almost hear my heartbeat stop. My brain freezes overfrom shock and my breath hitches in my throat. Did he just…?

“And I understand if you don’t return my feelings. I get it,why would anyone even like a fuck up like me. I just wanted to say it to you soyou knew. And if you don’t want to see me again then it’s fi-“

“Virgil.” I interrupt him, my voice finally gaining enoughconfidence to work properly. “I love you too.”

Virgil’s eyes widen and his mouth hangs open before breakinginto a small smile, a beautiful rarity. We unconsciously lean in towards eachother, noses touching and lips inches away. With a final look at each other’seyes, we close the gap.

The sensation of Virgil’s lips leaves mine with a tinglingwarm feeling as if desperately waiting for this moment. A warm fuzzy feelingspreads throughout my entire body, leaving me to want more.

I spread my legs out straight as Virgil moves to sit on mylap.

Unfortunately, air was begging at our lungs so we had todepart. When we do, a long string of saliva connects our lips before fallingdown to drop on our chins.

I smile at Virgil and giggle lightly. Virgil returns thesmile and wipes my chin with his thumb. We lean in for another kiss but a smallsqueal interrupts us. I look behind Virgil’s shoulder to find Patton silentlysquealing behind his hands, a smiling Logan and a proud looking Roman standingat the other end of the lockers. I gasp, a blush quickly creeping up on my faceand hide behind Virgil. He takes a quick glance at the others before scowling.

“Can’t you guys fuck off?!”

“Guys, what’re yo-“ Most likely Thomas says. I peer over Virgil’sshoulder slightly to see Thomas joining the other sides. His face contorts inconfusion before exploding into realisation and quickly pushing the three sidesout of the room.

Virgil turns back to me and instantly smirks.

“You look cute when you blush.”

I lightly slap him and whine. “Shut up.”

“Gladly.” He retorts as he kisses me once again.

[aslaton8-blog]

@taylorswift

I'll be honest, I was afraid to watch this documentary. I have a shit family and I believe in spiritual connection and was worried if I watch this I'll be too close to her emotionally and spiritually. Then I realized I can't have any control of that and I don't want to miss out on something just because of fear. Be #fearless Ashley.

Anyway, I've been getting to know this artist for the past seven years and I fell madly in love with her mission. Watching this documentary not only connected me to the personality I created in my head of her music and revealed how right I was about her, but also revealed a lot of real personal connections for me. I feel like her.

Except the difference between me and her is that she held on to her love. I lost some of mine along the way. It's been replaced with hatred. My family is horrible. I spent a long time trying to connect with them and I finally gave up. I realized I don't want to and that they just want to die and wither away. Two of them are on heroin I just found out.

Anyway I cried at the scene where her mother was talking about having cancer. I wish it was my mom that had cancer. After everything she put me through... She left me with her pedophile boyfriend who molested me. He was my dad. Looks like Taylor's parents raised a wonderful person. Why would you want to get rid of her parents? Get rid of mine! My dad is dead, you only have one more to go! Her name is Ann Elizabeth Stockton. Don't believe her lies. She's a con artist. She weaseled 13 grand out of her last dude she was with. She's very good at looking innocent.

Speaking of which as I was watching this documentary, I wanted to punch Kanye West and his anti-Taylor train in the face. Though violence is not the way. God that brought back memories. I actually remember when that happened. I was watching the awards as soon as it happened which is weird because I don't normally watch awards so I think somebody else had it on the TV. I didn't even know her or listen to her music at the time. I had zero opinion of her. He literally met her for the first time and he already had something that against her. The bullshit that people make up in their heads and then project onto you right? I've projecting things onto her too but I was right about them. I didn't project anything negative just opinions about who I think she is based on her music.

I kept shouting and chanting the whole documentary "why would you let those narcissists and sociopaths even affect you?" They don't care anyway! Here's a good song for that "No fucks given" by Hopsin. It's brilliant. It's an Ouroboros and makes people think. Like hey we can go in this cycle forever or you can just #closetherevovingdoor but Kanye would never face his own demons. He basks in them as if he has some excuse. I'm sorry but I'm no fan of anyone who plays devil's advocate like that.

How weak can somebody be to pick on a young sweet woman? I mean I call that weak as hell. Stand up to yourself Kanye. Stop being a piece of shit. I only reserve my hatred for my family so I can't say I hate you but I definitely don't like you. I hate your actions I hate how you're hurting your fellow black man by teaching him to be like this. You are no leader at all. You're actually keeping your people down by teaching them to be belligerent morons like you.

I'm sick of people tearing her down. I'm sick of watching women struggle to maintain their love. The amount of hatred and energy that people put into trying to take her off her platform should be going into the sex trafficking industry and to pedophiles. I don't see what the hell you have against her so bad. For Kanye I think it was just a publicity stunt. Narcissists love attention whether it's positive or negative. And I'm proud of Taylor for how hard she bounced back against it. Because of your influence Taylor, you are encouraging so many youth to empower themselves. I can't be happier with such a wonderful person in existence.

That adversary is working hard. But so are we.

I work with leftists a lot. They complain about rich people all the time including Taylor. A lot of them think they can just yell and scream and get what they want but it doesn't work like that. We aren't babies anymore. An explanation is not an excuse. You may be able to explain where all your pain and hatred comes from but it's not an excuse for it. If you continue the damage that was done to you then I can't feel sorry for you. You aren't breaking the cycle nor are you trying; you're just playing victim like they claim Taylor was doing.

A little while ago there was a post going around on my Facebook trashing Taylor Swift. It was a huge list of things they didn't like about her. It was going around in a leftist circle treating her like the bourgeois power class that is holding us back. Well that may be true she's a member of the bourgeois class, she's also a member of the human family. I think you would do better to attack our politicians. You people act like she's the sociopath or the pedophile creating all the problems in this country when her mission is to heal not to hinder. I'm sick of this circle. According to the political scale I lean pretty hard left what doesnt mean that I completely agree with all of my leftist friends. I get where they're coming from but I hate their approach. They know nothing about human psychology. We need a better education system. We need better everything really. But we can only have that at one step at a time. Quit trying to jump the track, you fall really hard every time you do.

#MurdaGang #youknowwethedumbest #38baby

[itslovewithyouthings]

Poetry Rx: Theres No Going Home In our column Poetry Rx readerswrite inwith a s… http://bit.ly/2VKU3ga

Poetry Rx: Theres No Going Home In our column Poetry Rx readerswrite inwith a specific emotion and our resident poetsSarah Kay Kaveh Akbar and Claire Schwartztake turns prescribing the perfect poems to match. This weekClaire Schwartz is on the line. Ellis Rosen Dear Poets I recently realized I wanted to be a poet. Is there a poem for getting over the fear that my poetry wont be good enough? Sincerely A Hopeful Poet Dear Hopeful Poet In a way every poem answers you. Every poem moves against or in spite of the fear that language is not equal to the task. You call yourself both hopeful and afraid. Perhaps fear and hope are two names for the same destination: the first shaped by a mindfulness of loss and the second by an awareness of presence. Fear like hope knows that something that matters is at stake. Fear then is not something to get over but might perhaps be differently held so that it positions you to move toward your desire. For you Ilya Kaminskys Authors Prayer which moves headfirst into the realm of loss naming it as the authors site of making: If I speak for the dead I must leave this animal of my body I must write the same poem over and over for an empty page is the white flag of their surrender. The impossible taskto speak for the deadforms the condition of the authors imperatives: I must I must Halfway through the poem the momentum from that original ifthe energy of that conditionalshifts. The poem steadies. The speaker affirms: Yes I live. Now the sincerity of obligation opens onto the exuberance of possibility: I can cross the streets asking What year is it?/I can dance in my sleep and laugh. And then ability makes way for commitment can moves to will: I will praise your madness and in a language not mine speak of music When the final line returns to the authors obligationthe darkest/days must I praisethat obligation now carries the incontrovertible fact of the authors living. To be a poet means to serve the work; sometimes the self gets in the way. If naming yourself poet amplifies the self in the form of self-doubt let the title go. Move tenderly toward a single word. Then the next. You will come into the word poet in your own time. But if naming yourself poet gives you intention offers you a map into the unknowable say your name Poet softly to steady yourself. Doubt is where creativity resides. If you already knew the answer you would not be making anything new. Yes you live. Now what do you want to make with your living? CS Dear Poets Im a homosexual man living in a country where homosexuality is referred to mostly as an insult or in offensive jokes. I have loving friends to whom Ive come out and they have been extremely supportive. But somewhere both within me and without theres this ineffable permanent void of fear self-doubt self-reproach and acute loneliness that at times seems to suck my very being inside of it. It leaves me in a hopeless pool of tears. I know that things will get better if I make the effort to find a romantic partner but somehow Im always already devoid of the strength and motivation to do so. Sometimes I feel this pain is self-inflicted. Do you have a poem that could be my companion in this distress? Yours Gay and Despondent Dear Gay and Despondent I hate that the free expression of love for you and for so many is disrupted. I hate how the violence of a closed-minded world can deform even our own relationship to our desire. I love that youve asked for a poem-as-companion to fortify you. I love how a poem can make room in my chest. Its a private offering to how I would like to live. Poems can forge what June Jordan calls living room an intimate space in which to be together to envision and enact other ways to be. I want to share with you a poem by Essex Hemphill whose language made living room in a nation that sought in many ways to kill him. A black gay man who died of AIDS-related complications Hemphill was intimately familiar with the shapes of Americas hatred. For you his American Wedding which finds and forges possibilities in the interstices of violence: No horsemen bearing terror no soldiers of doom will swoop in and sweep us apart. Theyre too busy looting the land to watch us. ………….. They dont know we are becoming powerful. Every time we kiss we confirm the new world coming. This is followed by the poems only stanza break which underlines the magnitude of that statement and maps something haunted. Twenty-three years after Hemphills death the new world he dreamed is still coming. Even as he imagined yet-to-arrive futures Hemphill claimed the wide province of his love for his own presentnot in the official language of the states flimsy promises but in the alternative ways of queer loving: What the rose whispers before blooming I vow to you. I give you my heart a safe house. I give you promises other than milk honey liberty. …………………….. I assume you will always be a free man with a dream. The dream exists even absent recognition. Hemphill and so many other queer writers and makersMelvin Dixon Adrienne Rich June Jordan Joseph Beam Audre Lorde Marlon Riggs Danez Smithsaw and see your desire. They know how beautiful your desire is. They join your company just as your letter joins Hemphills prayer: Long may we live to free this dream. CS Dear Poets For a year now Ive been living alone thousands of miles away from home for work and studies. Things are going well and it looks as though Ill be away even longer. I know I should be happythese opportunities are what I came here for. And while I am I also cant grapple with the thought that there is literally no going back. Everything at homewill keep moving without me. I dont fully belong here and I feel like I no longer belong there either. Im having a hard time explaining this to anyone. Is there a poem that could help me cope with this feeling? Yours Confused and In Between Dear Confused and In Between When I read your letter I thought immediately of these lines from Aracelis Girmays poem cycle Elelegy: Distance: my wealth/Distance: my grief. Distance carries many meanings. It makes sense that you feel conflicted. Its okay to both name your grief and celebrate your possibilities. To identify one doesnt erode the other. Trying to discipline feelings with should can be lonely-making. Should wont change your feeling but it will estrange you from it. (Yet another form of distance in a circumstance already formed by distance!) Im so glad youve asked not for a poem to obliterate the difficulty but for one that will help you better understand its shape. For you Natasha Tretheweys Theories of Time and Space which gets at precisely the impossibility of going back that youve named: You can get there from here though theres no going home. Everywhere you go will be somewhere youve never been. Tretheweys poem explores how experience is formed at the cross section of space and time so that when we say home we are also naming a moment; when we point to a memory and say then we also mean there. To be in between is to hold complexity. To hold complexity is to have many possible sites of connection. As Sarah Kay has beautifully written about hyphenated identities: Even if it feels like you dont come from one single place or that you do not belong to a home you can point to on a map all those en dashes help you form new homes everywhere you go. Or as Tretheweys poem teaches me everywhere youve been you are there waiting: On the dock Where you board the boat for Ship Island someone will take your picture: the photographwho you were will be waiting when you return CS Claire Schwartz is the author ofbound(Button Poetry 2018). Her poetry has appeared inApogeeBennington ReviewTheMassachusetts Review andPrairie Schooner and her essays reviews and interviews have appeared inTheIowa ReviewLos Angeles Review of BooksVirginia Quarterly Reviewand elsewhere. The post Poetry Rx: Theres No Going Home appeared first on GuaripeteMagazine.

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Poetry Rx: Theres No Going Home In our column Poetry Rx readerswrite inwith a s… http://bit.ly/2VKU3ga

[akawhiskeyy-blog]

in which i react to the chatzy because replies are hard: 

Edward and Isabella try to solve their Jessica Jones dilemma

yah the dilemma being that she sEES THROUGH YO SHIT U 2 

it goes on like this for a while.

“Honestly, Jessica Jones has been irritating me for weeks.”

you’ve talked to her twice. and texted once. AND U INITIATED 2/3 OUT OF THESE

There was nothing Edward hated more than getting struck in the face. 

sucks to sucks snek. ALSO U R SO MELODRAMATIC SHE DIDNT EVEN HIT YOU  HARD OMG SHE COULD LITERALLY CAVE IN YOUR SKULL IF SHE WANTED TO U GOT OFF LUCKY OKAY

“But soon you won’t have to. I can promise you that much.”

do u wanna die edward nygma. do u. 

Jessica Jones had crossed a line. 

gurl. jessica jones crosses lines like its her goddamn job

She had listened to her drunken ramblings, and offered her help, and politely asked her to stay out of their lives.

pulling out receipts:  “Oh, I’m so glad I could help you. Do me a favor and please stop texting Edward“ -- such polite sarcasm. write the next miss manners ok. also, u sat down next to her and ur offer of help only came after you insulted her a lot.  

This wasn’t his fault, after all.

kilgrave made him do it

she didn’t want the other woman dead.

“Well, that’s your choice. Drink yourself to death.” r u sure isabella u seem confused

If he proposed murder, she had another idea up her sleeve, but she wanted him to lead.

just casually accepting that her boyfriend might propose murder. BUT JESS IS THE CRAZY ONE OKAY. also, isabella, thought u werent a sidekick

I need more information on her before I can start plotting something. She can’t get away with hitting me, or toying with our relationship though

from cheesy bond villain to five year old to ‘casually insisting we’re in a relationship even tho we never talked about it’  -- the faces of edward snekma

No one was allowed to hit him like that. No one was allowed to publicly embarrass him.

everyone needs 2 hit you okay. how bout u calm down. it was an empty park in the middle of the night, public only by technicality

Where Edward’s rage was fiery, and his every word burned with anger, Isabella’s fury was glacial and restrained. 

i have nothing funny to say here, this is just a beautiful image

“She has shared a lot with me over these past few weeks. I know about her past.”

R U FUCKING KIDDING ME ISABELLA JUST HO W DARE IM S CREAMING I CANNOT HANDLE THIS WAHT THE ACTUAL FUCK

bonus:

cold and triumphant.

bitch u aint won nothing yet. unless u triumphant that u a bitch

despite his anger for Jessica, he felt a warm fondness for the woman in front of him. She was a force. Intelligent – enough to keep up with him but not quite at his level. He respected and adored that. She was gorgeous as well.

when u wanna plot revenge but YOUR GF IS JUST SO DAMN HOT 

“Isabella, do tell me what she’s shared.”

did u intentionally phrase this as a COMMAND and not a QUESTION because I’M SHOOK 

She wanted to knock Jessica Jones off her moral pedestal, and show the other woman that she had chosen this. She had chosen Edward.

MORAL PEDESTAL HAVE YOU EVER MET JESSICA JONES SHE IS THE HUMAN EQUIVALENT OF A GARBAGE CAN, SHE TAKES BRIBES, BREAKS INTO PEOPLE’S HOUSES, AND HATES BUBBLES. WHAT KIND OF MORAL PEDESTAL IS THAT. HER MORAL PEDESTAL IS A WHISKEY BOTTLE 

also uh huh sure u did bby u keep telling urself that this is allll ur choice

Killing the guy who had hurt her had clearly damaged her

jessica was damaged long before that shit, u have no idea

“Well, she’s a murderer” 

okay u have some idea ALSO WTF HOW DARE. YOU’RE JUST GONNA TAKE THIS AND DROP IT IN LIKE YOU’RE MENTIONING THE WEATHER?? WELL, IT’S SNOWING. WELL, DON’T FORGET TO PICK UP THE MILK. WELL, SHE’’S A MURDERER. AND ALL WHILE SITTING ACROSS FROM YOUR ACTUAL MURDERER. WHO YOU LIVE WITH. 

and then u take a sip of tea, i fucking did u just

i can see why ed likes u UR BOTH SO EXTRA. SNEKTRA. 

back up:

Isabella met Edward’s gaze and couldn’t remember what it had been like to hate him in that all-consuming, festering, corrosive way. Now, all of her rage was directed at the woman who had dared to insult her by suggesting that she’d been controlled, who had the audacity to hit him.

had the goddamn balls to hit him more like. also, look at how isabella is aware that she’s transferred her anger from ed to jessica, but doesn’t see this aS AN ISSUE. bc when you have to twist your moral viewpoint enough to see your abuser/murderer as the love of your life, everyone else who doesnt accept that viewpoint becomes the enemy

“I think that’s why she turned to alcohol. His death really weighs on her conscience. She was lying on the sidewalk, drunk, when I last saw her.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “I think she’s homeless, too, which may come in handy.”

listen we dont talk about jessica jones’ alcoholism okay we DONT. especially when our name is hissabella. & fuck u, she was tired ok. ALSO SHE HAS A HOTEL ROOM OKAY SHE ISNT TOTALLY HOMELESS

A murderer she said. Well, there was tons of things he could do to her now. Tons of games and traps he could set up with that theme in mind. She thought she was all high and mighty but she killed just as Edward had. She wasn’t so different from him at all.

u strangled your girlfriend, chopped her up, murdered the guy who caught you burying the body, and before all that you murdered your girlfriends previous boyfriend bc u thought u were a white knight. 

jessica killed her literal stalker/abuser because he was more dangerous alive than dead and still feels haunted by it every day. she spent weeks avoiding that exact option. totally the same

Edward was making a life for himself, he was moving on and redeeming himself to society and then she came with her high morals and smacked him right in the face with it. Now it was coming out that she was a hypocrite. 

u were thinking about killing a woman who bruised you two minutes ago. also, you killed a woman and framed the joker, like yeah, totes reformed. rather be a hypocrite than DELUSIONAL. high morals omg, she just asked u not to be a dickhole to the woman u murdered

“Oh, dear.” He purred.

jfc edward i cant with u

“Oh, did he ever want to torture her for believing she was better than he was... She couldn’t better herself and be a productive member of society. *

how do u start a paragraph wanting to torture someone and end it believing that you are a better asset to society omfg 

“Isabella… I can’t believe people just tell you all of this. God you’re… incredible. I bet that you can get information from anyone you please! With ease.” What an asset she would be to the Riddler.

and to this diiiiick  (im so sorry, but its sami & sophies fault for getting shippy in the middle of THIS. MURDER-PLANNING & CHILL JFC. 

Watching Edward think was a genuine privilege, and Isabella smiled as he took in her information.

r u goddamn serious right now, o h  m y  g o d

that Isabella was stupid and easily manipulated, and controlled

jessica has said exactly none of these things. 

There was a new cadence when Edward spoke, a chilling note that she had never heard before, and it sent a pleasant shiver down Isabella’s spine.

ew. ick. BAD TOUCH. 

 He was right, of course. Jessica Jones was a hypocrite, projecting her hatred of the man who had hurt onto Edward. They were nothing alike.

right. nothing. not at all. except that you’re both victims of horrific traumas who got the chance to face down their abusers and who feel haunted by memories and cant get in cars, sure.

“Hypocrisy, thy name is Jessica Jones,” Isabella replied, smiling.

y r u like this

“Oh my, thank you, Edward,” she said, unable to keep the happiness out of her tone.

THIS IS A MURDER PLOT NOT A 1950S SITCOM

I can get more information from Jessica, but I would have to lie about you. I’m sorry.

i just. i cant. how did u go from pointing a gun at this man to apologizing for potentially lying about him in the future in order to help him get revenge on another woman who did basically nothing to you???

Reaching after she did and taking her hand. He saw her reaching hers out as an invitation for Ed to hold hers.

holding hands, talking about revenge, the perfect couple

It would be beneficial for us if she is to believe we are not in cahoots at all. Give it a little time to cool off and then go to her – crying, preferably. It would be easier to work against her if she trusts you.

firstly, ed becomes a cartoon western villain at the beginning of this sentence. also COMMAND, COMMAND, COMMAND. but sure isabella, ur in total control here, as you let ed tell you every little thing to do

You said this man was terrible to her? Probably an abuser? Dig up information on what he was like by speaking to her. I’ll try and find files on him or any information at all, really. I want to get his voice down pact. A perfect imitation. 

NO NO NO NON NO NO NO NO ONO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO 

DO NOT DO THAT DO NOT HOW I JUST I HAVE ACTUAL PHYSICAL PAIN READING THIS BIT

He smiled, almost cruelly at what he had in mind. They could bring this man back to life in her memory and torment her easily with him. Rub who she had killed right in her face so she knew that she was not the moral woman she wanted to believe she was. So she was reminded by what she had done.

ALMOST CRUELLY. ALMOST. BECAUSE THIS ISN’T THE HELL JESSICA ALREADY GODDAMN LIVES THROUGH EVERY GODDAMN DAY. L O L. ALMOST. 

They were together on this. Holding Edward’s hand like the affirmation that Jessica hadn’t broken them, the way she’d planned to.

but he’s taking the lead, bc hes cute when hes being a patriarchal bastard. also, ‘planned’ gives jessica jones way too much credit. her plans suck way worse than this. 

judged Edward to some insane moral standard that didn’t even allow him to defend himself. 

YOU MEAN THE MORAL STANDARD OF DONT KILL YOUR EX GIRLFRIEND AND MAKE HER FEEL LIKE YOU RUINED HER LIFE ONCE UPON A TIME??

As she thought of all the chances she’d given that woman, every offer to help her, Isabella felt the righteous anger freezing her veins again. 

again. u met twice. talked 3 times. 

It would be a fascinating character study. A chance to observe Jessica’s reactions to emotional stimuli in a controlled environment. 

what the ever loving fuck isabella when the hell did you fall this far YOU’RE NOT TALKING ABOUT OBSERVING AN EXPERIMENT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT DESTROYING A WOMAN’S LIFE FOR THE LOLZ 

And Isabella was a very adept liar, and she didn’t often get to put that skill into practice. 

UR ALSO A VERY ADEPT SNEK hissabella. krisssssten

say that I’ve cut you off.” She held his hand a little tighter when she spoke, to reassure him that she wouldn’t dream of doing that.

gag. look how desperate she is -- trying to convince him or herself hmmm?

“We can make her think he’s come back from the dead! I’m proof that’s possible, after all.”

have i mentioned that i fucking h8 u omg

“How are you so perfect?”

at this point, the chatzy devolves into a shippy shippy shipfest. they stop plotting like 80s villains and start acting like a 50s couple. they decide to move in, but isabellas sleeping in the guest room, wink-wink. and then there’s these two bits:

Was he not reformed?

… He would do this one thing. Torture Jessica, then he’d go back to the normal, bland life he had been fighting for, for five years.

you sound thrilled about that idea edward. 

How had she ever thought she could live without Edward?  She had been pieces of two people, disconnected and fragmented, but orbiting her life around him was pulling her together again. 

when isabella first got to starcity, she was alllll about making a life for HER. a life outside of what ed & oswald & the court did to her. and now, she’s filled the holes in herself with bits of him and let him take over her whole life

they were both trying so hard to make new lives, but the second this old flame came back, they threw themselves on the fire