#i got bamboozled by the three months comment

[purplepixel]

I love your recent analysis on Rise Splinter. As someone who has spent almost three months trying to write him, I agree that he is a very layered and complex character. I hope I've done him justice in your eyes :}

I would say so from the little tidbits I've seen given the context. One of the biggest things people miss about splinter is that he also has a level of chaos and funniness to him that's always lost in fanfics (this is where my dig at people writing rise splinter like past iterations come from). He is complex but also a silly man who says silly things.

I will say that Swsa splinter is GOING THROUGH IT so I don't think it quuiiiite applies to him here. He watched his son die, his old flame lied to his face (again), and out of everyone he can relate to what donnie and Leo went through. The kids he almost sacrificed himself and and the world over were horrendously abused and nearly killed by his ex girlfriend. Bro is not gonna be ok.

But skdjfjsj it's YOU. I TRUST YOUR WRITING. YOU WROTE DRAXUM WELL REMEMBER THAT. IM SURE YOULL DO SPLINTER JUSTICE

[mybeautifulbeautifuleternal]

I TURN TO PATHS THAT LEAD HOME; X

Chapter 10:  are you hanging on the edge of your seat?

rating: its a gen fic for The Umbrella Academy

words:1.3k

chapter:10/?

warnings: nothing atypical for the umbrella academy, spoilers for season 2

AO3

a/n:  many many many thanks to my discord friends who were a big help with creating and editing this @NightingaleComics @viridescentshade @cbuugdrama9 on ao3 @boardwalk-absurdist​ @3ternalslumber on tumblr

Summary:  Luther held Vanya a little tighter, refusing to let her go. It changed the game and made all the difference.

First || Previous

summary:  Diego comes home

Diego had to admit — these sandwiches were amazing. They were leagues better than what he had been eating at the hospital and it seemed like Vanya had packed enough to feed even Luther. She had even included a salad that was made with fresh vegetables. He didn’t think he’d eaten so well since he’d moved out of the Academy. It was hard to believe that Vanya was the one to make all of it. He remembered all of Mom’s cooking lessons when they were young — what Vanya had made deserved to be killed.

Diego still maintained her attempt at lasagna was alive and he was in the right to stab it.

He and Vanya were finally on the way home after an exhausting day in the city and Diego was glad that Vanya was kind enough to bring so much food. Diego had been right — there was a lot of shopping and talking about feelings. He had done his best to dodge all of it but somewhere along the way, Vanya had learned how to play hardball. Her words, although kind and often thoughtlessly said, managed to cut him deep.

She had wanted to know every little thing about him, all the little things, an endless stream of gentle questions. Diego could answer most of them with little lying but some of the questions — where did they go on family vacations, did they have any family traditions, what were they like as children — those ones tripped Diego up. He didn’t know how to answer them without lying to Vanya. And lying to Vanya was how they all got into this mess in the first place.

Diego knew that she wasn’t asking these questions maliciously — he could see only a burning curiosity in her eyes — but he hated being reminded about how abnormal their childhood was. The questions she was asking were ones that he absolutely should know the answers to and he could only shrug helplessly because he didn’t.

On top of all the questions, Vanya had dragged him to the local mall to gather him a couple more changes in clothes. The shopping wasn’t all the bad but he was still getting flashbacks to Allison and her brand of monster shopping. Thankfully, Vanya didn’t question him on the fact that he chose the same outfit three different times and hustled them out of the store promptly.

After that, they made their way back to Vanya’s car and she handed over the lunch that she had made for him then started the drive back to the farm Luther and she were apparently living on. He kept quiet on the drive despite having just as many questions for Vanya as she had for him. He was waiting for a chance to ask Luther and her the questions at the same time. No sense in asking them twice when a little waiting would cut the words he had to speak in half. It didn’t stop Vanya from talking a little about what had happened to her in the last couple of months but it was all surface-level stuff. It seemed they were on the same page — waiting to bring out the big questions.

He was finishing up the last sandwich when Vanya passed a badly put together fruit stand being manned by Luther. Vanya slowed the car, pulling off to the side of the road.

They both got out, Diego only semi-reluctantly, and made their way over to him.

“Diego! I’m glad to see you’re out! And you decided to come stay with us?” Diego had to blink, shocked that Luther was so excited to see him. And that he was so domestic looking. Diego had gotten used to seeing Luther in his overcoat and awful turtlenecks.

Now Luther was rocking some jeans and a tank top, along with some cowboy boots and a matching hat. Diego had to swallow down every little comment that wanted to come out. None of them were particularly nice and if his siblings were telling the truth about their memories, Diego didn’t want to be the one to start the first fight. He was sure there was going to be one — two decades of competing against each had taught Diego that there was always going to be a fight, but for once he wasn’t going to be the first one to throw a punch.

But seriously? Matching cowboy boots and hat? He had to get photographic proof — nobody would ever believe him otherwise. And now he was sure that all of his siblings were eventually going to show up in the ‘60s. Based on what Vanya had told him on the way here, they got separated by years instead of distance.

“Yeah, I got out today and called the number you guys gave you. Vanya picked up and talked me into staying with you guys. Hope you don’t mind?” While Diego was answering Luther, he was also picking through the fruit and desserts that they had out. While the lunch Vanya packed was delicious he was still hungry and all of the stuff out for sale made his mouth water.

However, when Diego reached out to pick up a mini pie, both Luther and Vanya smacked his hand. He looked up at the two of them in betrayal.

~~

Vanya almost relented when Diego pouted at her but she told herself to hold firm. “The stuff out here is for sale. You got money to buy it?”

The pout became even more pronounced but Diego did move his hands away from the products. “But I’m still hungry?”

Luther let out a laugh and pointed back up to the house, “I made extra this morning. They’re still up in the kitchen if you’d like one?”

The two of them shared an amused look when Diego began to march up the driveway. Vanya might not have known Diego for long now but she had no doubt he was going straight to the kitchen to eat the extra goodies. Vanya slid an apple from the bunch and started eating it while leaning a hip against the stand. She did so carefully because she knew the stand was on its last legs — although Luther tried, he wasn’t the best free-builder.

Vanya and Sissy had a bet on when the stand would finally collapse.

“So he’s staying?” Luther tried his best to sound unaffected but they had been living in close contact for long enough — plus Luther just couldn’t lie to save his life — that Vanya saw right through him.

“I mean, I had to pull out the big sad eye routine a couple of times — especially when we stopped at the clothing store — but yeah. I think he’s gonna stay awhile,” Vanya shared a smile with her brother — one of her brothers because she now had two of them. That was going to take some getting used to.

“I’m glad,” Luther’s voice was soft and low, meant just for her. They were both watching as Diego walked up the drive and they were startled into laughter when Diego jumped in fright, the chickens popping out of the low bushes. Diego looked completely bamboozled about the chickens and Vanya lost it. She had to brace herself against the stand to keep her balance with how hard she was laughing. That led to Diego’s betrayed look to reappear, except it was squarely in her direction this time.

All the commotion, even the clucking of the chickens, came to a complete halt when a large creak split the air. Then the stand bit the dust and it collapsed. When everything had settled, Vanya found herself staring up to the blue sky, fruit and pie oozing beneath her, while her brothers stared down at her in concern. The three of them were silent while the rest of the world grew loud.

Finally, Vanya broke their quiet, “well...this is one way to welcome you home?”

[iwritethat]

Older Bat-Sis: Beats

Request: More older Batsis content please 💕

A/N: I have missed this.

>>>>——————————>

Already you were dreading the following 18 hours, having woken up on the worst day of the year - the day that set both your anxiety and paranoia on edge as you continued the unwilling ritual.

It was on this day that you were most grateful for living alone, you'd locked all windows and doors not that it'd do much good against lock-pickers but it brought you time at the very least. Time to escape.

.

An ominous ringtone sounded that rattled you to the brink of full consciousness and alerted you to exactly who was calling.

"Morning Bruce, what's up?" Came your raspy voice, yawning as you got the words out.

"What's up? I'm wishing you happy birthday, I do this every year at the same time (Y/n), you should know this by now."

"I know, I - wait! Who's in the Manor right now?!" Urgency took over, and Bruce automatically sensed the worry in your tone.

"What do you-" Before he could finish you had cut him off with something he couldn't argue with.

"Tell me exactly where they are Bruce, I'm serious."

"Dick is at the breakfast table with Damian, Tim is down in the Batcave and Alfred is on his way over." Bruce gave an exasperated sigh, it was too early for this nonsense but he answered you honestly knowing that he was probably the only one you could trust today.

"Okay... that's 3 accounted for, where's Duke and Jason?"

"Duke is out studying and lord knows where Jason is. All the best (Y/n), I hope your training helps." He finished, estimating Alfred should arrive soon.

"Thanks Batdad, I'll see you later."

.

It was no more than 30 minutes after you'd hung up that you received a knock on the door and there stood a pleased Alfred who you instantly embraced out of sheer happiness.

"Ah Miss (L/n) be careful, I put a lot of effort into making this. It's your favourite." The Butler explained, placing a box of handmade confectionary on your counter and you couldn't help but thank him as he handed you a card whilst engaging in idle conversation as you prepared beverages.

However, the moment was disrupted by the rhythmic thud of heavy boots and you couldn't help but glare at the smirking intruder whilst readying a defensive stance.

"Now now sis, you may've evaded me last year but I've got you this time."

"Doubt it Little Wing. Alfred it was a pleasure I love you very much and there's a cup of tea ready for you so please enjoy it during my absence." You politely informed, knowing Alfred favoured your tea before dodging Jason and swiping his grappling gun in the process. He came after you of course, but you side stepped toward the window and as your brother skimmed your wrist he tumbled to the floor courtesy of your precautions.

"You booby trapped your own home?!" Jason reprimanded, untangling the rope knotted around his ankle that left you with a running start.

"Oh my goodness gracious Jason, you've been bamboozled!"

"Damnit (Y/n), that’s copyright!" You barely heard his embarrassed shout as you grappled over to the next building with an echoing laugh.

.

You'd raced across Gothams skyline with a varying degree of grace but your new destination was Selina's place as at least she’d be on your side - however you were suddenly swept off course, wind racing through your hair as the light of early morning spiralled around you before drifting to a halt with feet once again on the concrete.

"Happy birthday beautiful, should I ask why you're running across buildings in your slippers?"

"You know why West." Your eyes narrowed at the charming speedster, knowing he’d been in the loop regarding this tradition for years.

"You're right, speaking of, I'm here on behalf of Dick and Damian - your presence is required at the Manor." There was a hint of sympathy in his tone but ultimately he was enjoying seeing you like this.

"No, Wally please! I'll do anything, don't take me back there!" You grabbed his shoulders, forehead resting against his chest to accompany your sincerity.

"(Y/n), you know your brother is my best friend." He said it as a statement, like it had already determined your fate though he did not want to follow through with it.

"We're friends too! I'll buy you food for a month! Wally I will literally marry you if you save me from them, please!" You gazed up at him with a hopeful yet mischievous expression but apparently it was no use.

"I'm sorry." With that you were rushed off of your feet once more.

Within moments you were in Wayne Manor, Dick happily grinned, stepping closer to your glaring figure as you stepped back only to bump into his partner in crime.

"Nice work Wally, sorry (Y/n) but I had to use all of my resources this year including Damian."

"With my help, the family will not fail beloved Sister.” The youngest Wayne approved, though you weren’t certain he knew the history of this sibling war.

Fortunately Cass appeared in the lounge area just in time, you waved over to her and with the girl being informed of your situation prior to your birthday she instantly jumped Dick as you took the opportunity to take the exit but your efforts proved futile when Wally beat you to the doorway. You heard a muffled sound of victory from the eldest brother but much to your surprise the speedster before you leant on the doorframe, a hand running through his hair and a wistful sigh escaping his lips.

“You owe me a wedding ring.”

“Thank you!” With that you took your exit leaving two frustrated brothers in your wake.

“Speedsters are useless! Titus after (L/n)!”

Now you knew the Manor well but there was no escaping a determined Damian and you weren’t completely surprised when he caught you off guard and had you cornered with an excitable canine by his side.

“Damian, my youngest and favourite sibling, do you know what they’re doing?”

“Grayson told me it was ‘Birthday Beats’.” He spoke the term somewhat questionably, suggesting he wasn’t familiar with it’s meaning.

“And did he tell you what that entailed and why they’re doing it?” You replied with skepticism, hoping that you’d be able to use this to your advantage.

“No...”

“Hm, then let me tell you everything.”

.

After that encounter you were able to remain undetected for the majority of the afternoon, returning home to change and finding a thank you note from Alfred and a gift from Jason for the drinks as they’d obviously caught up after you’d escaped. It wasn’t until you were brought back to the Manor for dinner which was, as agreed, time out to enjoy the meal and company of the family to celebrate and converse. After that it was a free for all and you found yourself caught between Dick and Jason.

“Gotcha!” The two smugly commented in unison, Dick continuing with his taunting.

“Your streak ends here master, sorry to ruin it.”

“TT - you will not be harming my sister! No matter how trivial it may be.”

“Yes Damian!” You celebrated as he revealed himself and stood by your side, you rustling the boys hair in a playful manner before smirking at the two dumbfounded vigilantes.

“(Y/n) has given us Birthday Beats without fail every year since we’ve been apart of this family and we haven’t gotten her once. Why are you on her side anyway Demon Spawn?” Jason could only give an exasperated sigh once he’d finished his passionate justification accompanied by varying hand gestures.

“Because I like (L/n) more than you Todd. That and we struck a deal.” Damian was relishing in pissing of the Outlaw but nodded signifying it was safe for you to leave without fear of losing your streak.

.

Upon leaving the Batcave you were greeted by a gleeful Stephanie but you knew better than to trust her on today of all days.

“Where is he Steph?”

“(Y/n) I can’t just give up my boyfriend, I’m on his side.” The girl pouted, hoping her facade would last longer than 2 seconds.

As you were already on high alert the sudden appearance of Duke and Tim was expected, unfortunately you had 10 minutes left until midnight but that was a stretch considering you were out of options. You’d evaded them for a good 8 minutes but Dukes abilities were incredibly useful in predicting someone’s next moves thus it became inevitable that you’d lose after all this time.

“C’mon guys, it’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Was your feeble attempt.

“Not gonna happen, you’re the only one besides Barbara, Cass and Damian that haven’t had Beats (Y/n) and that injustice has gone on long enough. From what I hear anyway.” Duke playfully shrugged, more excited to boast to Dick and Jason that Tim and himself had succeeded where they’d failed.

*SMASH*

The sound surprised everyone, the three of you rushing out to the origin as defending the Manor came before any games you’d decided to play but much to your relief you discovered a calm Alfred sweeping up the remnants of a shattered antique.

“Sorry for the disturbance, damn thing is heavier than I thought.” The butler sighed, rolling his eyes as he continued his chore.

At that moment the clock struck midnight and instantly you released a joyous celebration.

“You’re kidding me, we were so close this time!” Tim held the bridge of his nose but went along with Duke to no doubt inform the others that they were unsuccessful in their final attempt.

“Next year (Y/n)!”

“Thank you Alfred, I owe you.” Came your knowing gratitude, assisting in cleaning up the mess with a sly smile.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, accidents happen all the time around here Miss (Y/n). But, you know how I like my tea.” Alfred responded without any hint of mischief whatsoever but the last statement proved your assumptions.

.

At 00:07 you strolled into the kitchen, the same place you met your father on your birthday year after year and like always he was waiting for you with a newspaper in hand and drink for you on the table.

“What did it cost you this year?”

“My spare keys to the Batmobile for a month, a Ming Dynasty Vase, I’m also engaged now and Jason ate one of Alfreds confectionaries. The highest price I’ve ever paid by my calculations.” You slumped your head into your arms with a sorrowful expression as Bruce shook his head.

“For a start that vase was a replica made specifically for this situation so don’t worry about that and you’re welcome. As you remain unbeaten Barry will be shocked to hear of it.” Your father smirked, a proud look in his eyes as he chuckled to himself.

“You and Barry placed a bet?” You raised a brow at the billionaire before you who could only smile in return before answering your question.

“We did. Barry thought with his nephew helping Richard, your streak would finally be broken this year. But he severely underestimated how ‘whipped’ Wallace is for you.”

“I’m just getting over the fact you are using the term ‘whipped’ right now.” You couldn’t help but release a breathy laugh, smugness in your voice as you pointed to your father as it fell silent for a couple of moments whilst you took a sip of your drink.

“...”

“You have a spare key to the Batmobile?” It was as if it had just properly registered, tone more serious than previously and you had to quickly bring up a more threatening subject to focus on to prevent you getting into trouble.

“Whah - nooo - actually Batdad since I’m getting married can you walk me down the aisle? Yes? Great - thank you!”

“Married? - To who?! (Y/n) this isn’t over!” He called after your retreating figure, no doubt you’d be getting ‘the talk’ as soon as he discovered their identity.

[kaspbrak-tozier-reddie]

hey! could you do stozier for “you burn me” quote?

Here’s some Stozier, no Pennywise. All are 18

Pairings: Stozier with a side of Benverly, hanbrough and a pining Eddie. 

Warnings: Underage drinking

Send me a quote and I’ll write a fic based on the quote 

(Doing this for any IT ship, rules: here)

———————————————————————

It is Summer before the Losers’ freshman year of college and they all want to make the most of it before they all go their separate ways. Well except for Richie and Stan who managed to get into Yale together, not to mention a dorm room. The lot of them sit in a circle on the floor of the barn at Mike’s grandpa’s farm. Sure it stinks of manure and animals but it was quiet and away from any form of civilisation (the house mainly). Mike had started a controlled fire in a vertically cut metal drum that sits on metal legs in the centre of the Losers Club’s circle.

“I just remembered that I brought over some alcohol,” Beverly states getting up from her spot on the concrete floor and moving over to the fridge where she had piled in bottles upon bottles on beer, vodka, schnapps and lemonade (for mixing purposes). 

She grabs as many beers as she could carry and passes them round to the boys. “I’ll get the vodka out later.” She says, before she passes a bottle to Eddie, she asks, “do you want me to grab the schnapps, Eddie?” 

“No no, it’s fine,” Eddie says, nobody knows of his and Richie’s late-night drinking sessions one Saturday of every month. He knows that that is going to be one of many things he’s going to miss about Richie.

While Eddie is pining over Richie, Richie is pining over Stanley. Though the feeling is mutual between the two; unknown to both Richie and Stan. With Stan sitting on his right and Eddie on his left, he is torn with who to tease first. If he starts with Stan, everyone will know that something is up, especially Stan.

“What’s shaka lackin’ Eddie Spaghetti?” Richie asks tussling Eddie’s perfectly styled hair.

“Cut it out, Richie! Has the alcohol already affected your brain?” Eddie shrieks, knocking Richie’s hand away. Richie recoils and leans into Stan, face buried in his chest.

“Eddie’s mad at me,” Richie fake whimpers into Stan’s chest.

“Get off me, Richie!” Stan says pushing Richie off him but doesn’t shy away from the blush that’s starting to grow on his face.

“Bev -” Richie begins only to be cut off by a simultaneous…

“BEEP BEEP RICHIE!” 

Richie sculls the whole bottle of beer in absolute sorrow and gets up to grab another. 

****

A couple of hours later, Bev pulls out the vodka and the peach schnapps (for Eddie). Now is the perfect time for drinking games and so Bev goes with ‘never have I ever’ since they had played truth or dare at their last sleepover a couple of weeks ago. Richie sneaks a glance at Stan who was leaning toward Richie, his left hand on the floor for balance. It doesn’t take much for Richie to seize the opportunity and leans towards Stan himself, their pinkies’ almost touching. 

“Never have I ever liked someone in this room?” Bev says and every single loser takes the shot. “No way!” Ben’s the only straight Loser and with Bev being the only girl… she squeals and immediately kisses poor, Ben who topples over from the force. Richie and Stan snicker.

“Okay Uris, Tozier, what’s funny?” The redheaded girl asks.

“Nothing,” the two boys respond.

“Why don’t the 5 of you share who you like,” Bev suggests, Richie and Eddie look at Bill, Mike looks at Stan. All of them shake their heads in horror. “Oh come on! It’ll add to the drama.”

Richie is sure he’s about to have a heart attack, he can’t tell Stan. “Rich, he likes you back. It’s obvious.” Ben says. “Don’t be a chicken.”

Stan is doing everything in his power to not tense or show any sort of reaction to Ben’s comment. Eddie too, Richie would see him tense or blush. Neither boy can react.

“Nope, not falling into peer pressure. Guess the lucky guy will never know,” Richie says. But with that being said, he still links his pinky to Stan’s. The movement is hidden from Bev and Ben, as well as Eddie but in full vision to Bill and Mike. The two boys look towards Stan and Richie’s joint hands and smirk knowingly to each other.

“Never have I ever been caught shoplifting?” Stan asks and if, on cue, Bev and Richie take a shot each.

“Oof, you burn me, Staniel,” Richie says removing his hand away from Stan’s and brings to his chest for dramatic effect.

“Didn’t know we were allowed to single people out,” Bill says. “In that case, never have I ever had a thing for the Trashmouth.” In both of Richie’s peripheral visions, he can see Eddie and Stan hesitantly take a shot. 

*

Not knowing what to do, Richie breaks into a run, running as far as his legs can carry him which is barely to his beaten-up truck, up at the house. He’s more unfit than he originally thought. 

He had pined for Eddie through middle school and up until Sophmore year when Eddie had introduced the Losers Club to his boyfriend. Richie was so heartbroken that he barely left the house, only ever leaving if he had school. After 3 months of getting over Eddie, he figured that Stan was pretty cute and had started to like him instead, plus they are both Jewish so that’s a plus.

“Richard!?” Stan and Eddie call from the bottom of the hill. The two struggle up the steep slope giving Richie ample time to make a getaway in the beaten up ute but he’s been drinking so driving is out of the question.

“What gives?” Eddie demands. Richie could feel an emotional trainwreck of a monologue forming in his head. Soon it comes running out of his mouth like an avalanche.

“Eds, I uh - I ran because I didn’t want to face you. I can’t face you knowing that you like me when I already like someone else. I was crushed when you had that boyfriend, I had my shot and I blew it but I had to get over you.” Richie takes a pause. “I like Stan now but you will always be my number 1 drinking buddy. This wasn’t how I planned this.

“But I uh, I was bamboozled by Bill. I’m sorry Stan, this wasn’t how it was gonna go and you were never meant to find out Eddie. I never wanted to break your heart, I wouldn’t have been able to live myself if I ruined our friendship, especially now when we all leave in a few days.” 

Richie starts to sob, he was hoping neither of them found out but his 2.5 years of pining for Stan? It was bound to come out at some point. But Eddie? Eddie was never supposed to know and now he does and Eddie sniffles which makes Richie breakdown further, bawling. Tears steamrolling down his pale face.

Stan doesn’t know what to do, at the same time he’s ecstatic that Richie chose him not Eddie but Eddie is still his best friend. He pulls the two crying boys into a hug, letting them cry on his shoulders.

“Richie, you could never ruin this friendship. I love you too much for that, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” Eddie laughs wiping the tears from his eyes. “You’re my best friend, almost like a brother. You were my first ever friend, Rich, don’t ever forget that.”

“ ‘course not spaghetti.” Richie brings Eddie in for one last hug.

“Seeing you cry makes me emotional, dipshit, don’t do that to me again, understand?”

“Ay, ay captain!” 

Stan can only laugh.

“And you,” Eddie turns to the birdwatcher, “you hurt my brother, you’ll be answering to me.”

The three of them start laughing before Eddie leaves to give the two some privacy. Even though it kills him, he happy that Richie is happy and now it’s his turn to move on.

*

“You okay?” Stan asks as he watches Eddie walk back into the barn.

“Yes and no. I hurt my best friend but I got the guy of my dreams,” Richie replies staring down at his shoes.

“Look if you don’t want to start a relationship yet, I comple-”

“Stop talking,” Richie interrupts and kisses Stan. Stan can taste the salty flavour on Richie’s lips from the tears that had been shed only moments ago. No matter how bad he felt about Eddie, Stan thoroughly enjoyed his new favourite drug, other than caffeine and alcohol, Richie. Richie’s lips have become Stan’s new drug and he is high on it. The couple of seconds that the kiss lasts is enough to have Stan hooked.

He feels Richie pull back and already he’s chasing and pulls Richie back in and pushes him against the tray of the truck. Richie pulls back and gets into the tray of the truck, Stan follows him and he’s immediately back on Richie’s lips. There’s a fire in the pit of his stomach and he’s hungry for more but Richie having a bit more control stops him. 

“Stan,” Richie breathed, trying his very best to catch his breath. “I want to start a relationship with you.”

“What about Eddie?” Stan asks.

“Stan, I’ll talk to him tomorrow, let’s just lay here and go to sleep under the stars.”

Richie opens the plastic box, that he had drilled into the tray, and pulls out a couple of cushions and blankets. 

[hatari-translations]

In some Icelandic newspaper, there was an article today about Klemens and Ronja? Have you seen it and could you translate it? (I understand if you will not transkate it, since it's about their family)

The article in question is an interview with Ronja (artist, former Hatari dancer and Klemens’ partner), about her experience giving birth privately at home, with no one present but Klemens. (Incidentally, the interviewer is Kristlín Dís Ingilínardóttir, Matthías’s girlfriend.) To remind you all of my translation policy, I won’t translate social media posts and so on by the band’s family members because they have a reasonable expectation of privacy, but since this was a front page interview in the country’s most widely-read newspaper, with a large picture of the whole family (so clearly expressly intended for a wide audience and prominently tied to Klemens), and Ronja is not only a family member but also herself a Hatari dancer, I consider it reasonable to cover it.

It’s quite long and I’m not going to fully translate the whole thing, but bullet points of the main points she talks about below (reorganized by topic). Content warning for somewhat graphic birth discussion. (If you click the article link above, note that it has photos that are also pretty graphic - like, exposed umbilical cord, placenta, blood and newborn still caked in gunk.)

On her decision to give birth in private:

- When their previous daughter Valkyrja was born, Ronja wanted to give birth at home, but had some midwives present, who largely controlled the process and eventually decided to send her to the hospital. Ronja didn’t really understand why and was feeling fine, but in that vulnerable state she just trusted them. Her experience at the hospital was unpleasant; “I felt as if I were being asked to poop myself in front of a thousand people.”

- After her bad experience with her first birth, Ronja developed a bit of an obsession with the topic and started doing a lot of research. When she read the accounts of a former midwife who’d birthed all her children alone at home with her husband, she had the realization that she could just do this on her own, and for her next child decided this was the way to go.

- When explaining her plans to friends and relatives, their first reaction was often to ask if it was even legal. They didn’t tell a lot of people because they knew they’d be met with some resistance. Her parents were pretty alarmed when she told them, but eventually realized she wouldn’t relent on this because it was her decision, her body and her process.

On the day that she gave birth to Aþena:

- In the morning, she felt a little strange, had her morning tea in the garden, heard Valkyrja was awake, then went in to wake Klemens and tell him the baby was probably coming today. He sprang up immediately like she was asking him to deliver the baby right now.

- She figured it wouldn’t actually happen until the evening, and was concerned she might just be sitting there waiting for it to happen for twenty hours, so she went on with her day. She started folding laundry, but couldn’t concentrate, and realized the laundry she’d been folding wasn’t actually folded.

- When she started feeling some pain, she decided to take a bath. “Klemens asked if he should stay with me, but I just felt that he really got on my nerves, so I asked him to be outside and load the dishwasher.” Only the ‘having another person here is distracting’ kind of getting on her nerves, though; she says Klemens was lovely throughout the process, although his only actual role was to call an ambulance if she started to bleed to death.

- Even though she felt some aches, it wasn’t exactly painful. She lay in the bath, time seemed to pass strangely, and then suddenly she started feeling the urge to push. The one moment she panicked was when she couldn’t believe she was at that stage already: “I was always waiting for the point where I just wanted to kill myself; that’s how most women describe giving birth and it was how I felt giving birth to my older daughter.” But that didn’t last long, her body just handled it and all she had to do was hold on and let go.

- She called Klemens in before the actual birth started. “I remember feeling how much hair she had, and I felt a little ear, and a little mouth, and I felt the mouth open when I touched it.” Klemens took some photos, and then they got into bed together and called their parents.

- They kept the placenta and froze it; Ronja felt weird about just throwing it out with the household trash after it kept her daughter alive for nine months, so she’s planning to bury it one day.

- They hadn’t told anyone that the process had started because they worried concerned relatives would call an ambulance on them if they knew, so literally fifteen minutes before Aþena was born, Ronja was speaking to her sister on the phone and convinced her nothing was going on.

- After the birth, they called the hospital to report the birth, and the nurse who answered was bamboozled and told them to call the fire department. They did not call the fire department, but they did get a midwife to stop by and make sure everything was okay.

- Overall, she felt her experience was wonderful; she almost wanted it to last longer, because it was only about three or four hours total. She felt it was perfect in its own way how normal and routine it was, just a part of life.

On free birthing and the medicalization of birth:

- Ronja opines early in the interview that you don’t have to learn anything or know anything to give birth to a child; your body knows how to do this, like it knows how to make the child. [In the comments on the article in the Hatari International Fans Facebook group, Ronja actually popped up to respond to a doctor who criticized her approach, where she elaborated a bit and said that she did make sure to read carefully up on possible complications and be prepared for most of what might happen. I do think that the way it’s presented in the article (the bit about how you don’t have to learn anything or know anything is a quote) is somewhat irresponsible; I’m in favor of her main point about people being able to make their own choices in this regard, but it’s vital that they do so while aware of the risks and with concrete plans for if things go wrong.]

- She says that she does realize that in a few cases birth doesn’t go as nature intended, and in those cases she’s deeply grateful for the wonders of Western medicine - but that unnecessary interventions are sadly common, and she wanted to avoid them. As an example, she names doctors repeatedly sticking their hands up the vagina to measure dilation, which doesn’t really say anything about how long the birth is going to take anyway.

-She rather dubiously draws comparisons to how we don’t medicalize animal births in the same way. [Birth really is pretty difficult for humans, though, compared to other animals, thanks to our massive heads, and a large part of the reason more medical precautions are involved is also simply the same as the reason human medical care is generally more extensive than veterinary care: we try really, really hard to save human lives at all costs, in a way that we usually don’t for animals.]

- People tell her she’s brave for doing this, but she feels like it takes more bravery to do it in the hospital, trusting all these other people in a situation you have no control over. She doesn’t think this should be radical, and feels like people assume she did this out of arrogance and ignorance, when to her it was just simpler and more convenient.

- Most importantly, though, she just feels women should be able to choose the situation that they feel most comfortable in.

[sirsnoinkers449]

The Tragic Tale of Little Penny Fizzletwist

A few days ago, I was in a Discord server and we were chatting about tragic MMO love stories. I chimed in with my own love story, and I realized an important part of it happened ten years ago today. I figured I’d make my Tumblr comeback to tell you all about my white whale, Little Penny Fizzletwist.

It’s not an understatement to say I was, in the words of a toon at the Bossbot HQ, a pest. I tried to solo Sellbot factories and cog buildings at 20-something laff. (I actually succeeded in the latter, funnily enough.) I rode the coattails of powerful toons as they carried me through buildings. I tried to be an uber toon just to be cooler. My personality was nothing short of larger than life, and I always wanted to be more than I was.

One winter day in Donald’s Dock, all the way back in 2009, I was being myself. I was strolling through Donald’s Dock, looking for high laff toons and asking them to take down a few cog buildings with me. I remember teaming up with an invisible rabbit for a bit, and that went pretty well.

After the rabbit and I went our separate ways I ran into a periwinkle dog toon named Little Penny Fizzletwist. Much to my pleasure, she had maxed throw and squirt and 100-something laff! Surely she would be a lot of help. We took down a three-story Bossbot building, chatting along the way. We took down more and more buildings, and with every cog we blew up, our bond grew tighter and tighter. Suddenly, this wasn’t just a day of saving Toontown from the cogs. I had just made one of my closest friends.

Below is one of the first screenshots I took of Little Penny and I, dated January 5th, 2009.

Things didn’t slow down from there. We spent much more time together, whether it be wiping the streets clean of cogs or hanging out at each others’ estates. We even developed inside jokes together! I introduced her to my brother’s toon, and the three of us became an unstoppable force. No Cog building was safe from us three, whether it was one story or five.

The moment which truly solidified our relationship was when I got myself banned. When I came back, I was afraid all my friends would leave me. After all, no one would want to be friends with someone dumb enough to get banned, right? I fessed up to Little Penny, and she was surprisingly accepting! While I was definitely blowing things out of proportion, knowing that Little Penny still accepted me even though I got banned was very reassuring. Besides my brother and my doodle Bamboozler, she was easily the best friend I had in TTO.

Us celebrating another Cog building conquered by singing Bananaphone. That song was all the rage ten years ago. Dated February 14th, 2009.

We eventually got so close that, ten years ago today, we went on a Valentine’s Day date! Well, as close as we could get. We just beat more cogs and hung at her place, but it was still a wonderful date.

And here we see me being ever so seductive, coming up with romantic ways to spice up our date.

As the months went by, I became friends with more and more toons, but Little Penny and I were still close. However, everything came to a screeching halt one day in Goofy Speedway. I can’t remember if it was late 2009 or somewhere in 2010, but we were hanging out and doing races and stuff. I remember we were standing in front of the rural race entrances, talking about something, when Little Penny interrupted herself. For a reason I still can’t explain, she simply said “I’m torn...”

The moments Little Penny teleported away immediately after saying that would be the last I would spend with her.

To this day, I still have no idea what happened. Why did she go so suddenly? Why did she never come back? She didn’t even delete her account either; she was still on my friends list when TTO closed. I don’t think she made it to TTR, though. I looked up her name recently, and the only evidence that she even existed was some comments she left on the old Toontown website. All of them were from early 2009, and they sounded like she wrote them.

For nine years now, I’ve wondered just where Little Penny went off to. Did she just lose interest in Toontown? Was she forcibly removed from it? Is she even still with us today? If anyone who sees this post knows about Little Penny and where she is today, please tell me. I’ve been dying to know.

[thexsisters]

For @grxnadxs​ Mun’s Notes: I needed tissues before I could even continue finishing this freaking thing.

TRIGGER WARNINGS!!: Brief mention of self harm.

Sungmin knew better than anyone how unfair life could be. But this.....this was just.....well.....not fair.

He stood outside in the elegantly decorated hallway of the French Chateau. It had been three days and things weren’t looking up. In fact.....they were getting worse. His ‘partner in crime’ had fallen seriously ill upon arriving at her home away from home. Paris. At first it appeared she’d be okay. Just extremely weak and in need of some good food and rest. But three days later and Sungmin now found himself standing outside in the hallway listening to a maid sobbing her eyes out while her husband, the butler, tried to comfort his wife.

Life support. BoA Kwon was now on life support; fighting for her life.

Or was she?

After everyone had left the queen’s room, the doctor pulled the younger male to the side and gave him some words of advice.

“Even though she’s in a coma, they say the patient can still hear what’s going on around them. Talk to her. Have conversations with her. No one likes to be alone, even when they’re in a coma.”

Sungmin wasn’t sure what world the doctor lived in, but the younger male had no issues being alone. That’s for sure. However, the hoodie clad male had every intention of talking to the comatose female. He had a bone to pick with her.

After everyone had moved downstairs for tea and to discuss the affairs of the kpop queen, the young man walked into her bedroom and closed the door behind him. Honestly, he didn’t really understand why they were getting her affairs in order because she wasn’t dying.

Not if he had anything to say about it.

Huffing and puffing, he took the elegant chair that was perched in front of her humongous vanity mirror and dragged it over to her bedside where he flopped down and folded not only his arms, but he swung one leg over the other as well. Glaring at her frail form with the tube stuck between her lips...... She looked so small. Almost like a child rather than a young woman. But that didn’t make him any less miffed with her.

“Hypocrite.”

He had spat out the single word before continuing. Now that he was started, there was no stopping him.

“You’re a real hypocrite. You know that? Telling me on that stupid bus that I’m not allowed to die. So what the hell is this then, huh? I’m not allowed to die but you are? Leaving me here with all these strangers and not knowing how to speak a single drop of French. How do you say ‘screw you’ in French? Because those would be my first French words to your stupid face.”

Taking a deep breath to try and collect himself, he realized that he had kept all of that bottled up for the last three days. While it felt good to get it off his chest, he realized he was talking to a woman who was truly inching towards death.....what if her ghost came back to haunt him? Clearing his throat and thinking better about things, he added with another huff and puff of his chest,

“We’re a package deal. This whole not dying thing goes both ways. If I’m not allowed to die then you aren’t either. Got it? So you just need to open your eyes. Besides, you’re scaring the hell out of your folks downstairs. And this whole tube down your throat thing is really freaking me out.”

He wasn’t sure why, but half of him expected her to really, actually wake up. To start choking on the tube so that he could rip it from her mouth and allow her to breathe on her own. But.....that image never came true. The tiny queen of kpop just continued to lay there motionless; relying on a tube to keep her alive.

That night, Sungmin locked himself up in his bathroom in the room just next to the queen’s and went to town on his body with the razor blade.

Nothing changes, but it gets easier as the days go by. After the night in the bathroom, the only time Sungmin uses a razor blade is to shave in the mornings. He feels pretty much like a moocher with how he’s just making himself at home in the queen’s Chateau.

But then again.....she really had kept her promise. It was bittersweet to think about. Once upon a time, not all that long ago, the young man had nearly accused her of bamboozling him into helping her with nothing in return. But here he was; living in what was basically a French castle.

Two weeks have passed since BoA was put on life support. While some of her numbers were improving, she still wasn’t strong enough. Her brain activity was still sketchy but the staff in the Chateau were staying hopeful despite having funeral arrangements already made. Which kind of ticked Sungmin off. She wasn’t dying.

He refused. He forbid it.

“Here. I got you these.”

It was one beautiful afternoon, honestly. The sun was shining. Some of the staff had suggested that perhaps by opening the curtains, the sun might shine through the queen’s room and the sun might revive her. It was foolish but the maids and butlers of the Chateau were desperate. So there the curtains were pulled back and sunlight flooded the huge bedroom.

Walking to the foot of her bed where there was a table full of get well soon items, Sungmin scooted over a box of the most expensive chocolates money could buy and set down a large vase full of flowers along with some water to give them some continuous life. Sitting back down in that same cursed chair as before, he was a lot more relaxed this time but he still didn’t look all that happy with her.

“Still not gonna wake up, huh? Tsh. Typical woman. You females are all so stubborn. I swear, if you die, I’m gonna die too just so I can freaking kick your ghostly butt. I ain’t gonna give you time to haunt me. I’ll haunt you first.”

Just like a child, he stuck his tongue out at her while huffing and folding his arms. While it was nice not having her talk back to him, there was a small sliver of him that wished she would. That her eyes would just open and glare daggers at him. And her mouth. That stupid tube would be pulled from her mouth so she could cuss him out. But alas, none of that happened. She just laid there. Lifeless as she was before two weeks ago.

That night, Sungmin fussed over the flowers in the vase trying to make them look perfect before heading to bed.

Things are really starting to change and the poor boy doesn’t know how to feel about it.

One morning, Sungmin was groggily padding into the tiny queen’s bedroom to check on her. It was something he had started doing every morning. Not sure why but he just felt the need to. Before even using the bathroom, he’d first climb out of bed and immediately walk down to the next room to check on her. Sounded ridiculous but he never claimed to be a genius.

He’d never forget how scary the sounds were. Opening the door, he was hit with sounds of her choking. Choking on the tube! Which meant she was finally breathing on her own! A mixture of different feelings washed over him as adrenaline rushed through his body, helping him to spring into action. His hands had shook so much when he was ripping the medical tape from her cheeks so that he could get the tube as far away from her mouth as possible.

“BoA! You’re awake! Boy are you in trouble, girl. I don’t----”

But his rush of.....happiness? Whatever he was feeling was short lived. She may have been breathing on her own now, but she was still in a coma. It was like he had won the battle but lost the war all at the same time. His bunny-like smile instantly faded and he couldn’t......he couldn’t understand what this feeling was that settled heavy on his chest. Was that......disappointment he felt? He just stared at her as she laid there; her tiny chest now rising and falling on it’s own.

That same night, Sungmin had grabbed his favorite blade but instead of locking himself in his bathroom, he threw the thing in the trash. Instead, he walked down to the first floor of the Chateau where there laid a grand piano. Black as the ace of spades. He wondered if the queen even knew how to play. Probably. From what he had gathered from the chatty staff, she was truly a jack of all trades. She could do anything because she was BoA Kwon.

The days that followed, he began to compose. Song after song. The staff would even sometimes stop what they were doing so that they could listen. The melodies were so strong that they could be heard throughout the whole place. Whenever he wasn’t spending time with the woman upstairs, he’d be downstairs fabricating song upon song. His muse?

The woman upstairs.

And now a month and a half later, he’s made it a religious habit to swap out the old flowers with fresh ones. Whenever one bouquet would start to wilt, he’d go out, have the driver send him into town, and he’d pick up a fresh bouquet of the same flowers. No other bouquet would do. It had to be the same one each time.

The queen’s health was improving slowly but surely. The IV was still providing her with nutrients needed to survive, but she still wasn’t truly living. Not yet. But Sungmin still wasn’t giving up. She still wasn’t allowed to die. Just because it wouldn’t be fair. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.

“I’m hurt. Here I am making all these songs and you haven’t commented on a single one. Don’t come crawling to me begging to use one on an album cause I’ll say no.”

He was sitting there pouting like a child. Typical for him these days when speaking to her. It was odd.....Even though she wasn’t awake and able to talk back, it still seemed like all they did was bicker. But.....it was nice. Talking to her even though she couldn’t respond was.....Oddly comforting? It made no sense to him but he just went with it.

Sungmin had never been one for touching. Skin-to-skin contact and skinship were not in his vocabulary after everything that had happened to him in his short lifetime. However, over the span of a month and a half, the boy has been.....itching? Was that the right word? There’s been this urge to hold her hand. Which was stupid because tsh, why would he want to hold her hand? That was stupid.......Right?

Before he knew what was happening, he was reaching out and carefully----as if she might break into a million pieces if he wasn’t careful enough----took her hand in his. A small frown fell on his face when he felt how cold her fingers were. But he knew she wasn’t dead because the heart monitor said so.

That night, the boy fell asleep with his head resting on the side of the queen’s bed; her hand still safely tucked into his own warm one. The sound of the beeping heart monitor telling him she was still alive being his lullaby.

The boy was growing into a routine. A routine that he was surprisingly okay with. One that he could, dare he say, live with.

Every morning he’d go check on her like usual. Once he saw the rising and falling of her chest and the strong beeping of the heart monitor, he’d use that as his cue to get ready for the day. His day would then proceed with more composing; asking the staff for opinions from time to time whenever he wasn’t feeling one hundred percent confident in a string of lyrics or a score of musical notes.

Then he’d check on her before lunch. Talk to her a little. Bickering of course. Always bickering. Telling her she needed to bath because she was starting to smell ripe or she needed to do something with her hair. Something like that. Still in a coma, but it was getting easier to talk to her. To tease her. To.....hold her hand. One night, he even got the guts to press his lips to the back of her hand before wishing her a good night. But not before teasingly wishing her bad dreams of him twerking in her face.

He still changed her flowers whenever they needed it. Having now thrown the stale boxes of expensive chocolates out and trading them for.....well......a book. A book full of all the songs he had been composing. Some of her balloons were falling flat too. It had been three months after all. So he decided today he’d make a trip into town with the butler and maid. The two had become like a mother and father to him and they treated him like their son in return. The rest of the staff felt like his aunts and uncles, honestly. And.....it felt really.......nice. Yeah. It felt nice.

“I’ll go pick out some fresh balloons for our little phoenix. You boys go find us a good spot of lunch, okay?”

“Okay, darling. Call if you need us.”

However, the moment the two males were alone, Sungmin swallowed the lump in his throat and turned to the butler who had practically become his father figure. Seeing the look on the younger’s face, the butler said in a questioning tone, “Yes, Sungmin?”

“Sir.......would you........help me with something? It’s for BoA noona.”

He didn’t usually call the woman noona but since he was speaking to the man who was practically a father figure to her as well, he felt the need to make himself look good by using the honorific. He was relieved to see the butler nod his head in agreement despite how curious and confused he looked. Smiling brightly, Sungmin nodded curtly and said happily, “Thanks, sir!”

It was an extremely awkward conversation at first, but it ended beautifully. And definitely in the boy’s favor. He had went into town that day a nervous wreck, but left it feeling relieved. In fact, he kind of felt like he was on top of the world. It was a high that he wasn’t familiar with but loved all the same. It was a healthy kind of high. One he could get addicted to.

Upon reaching the chateau, the young man nearly threw himself out of the car and was already running up the stone stairs to the front door two at a time. The maid who was carrying the fresh set of balloons looked from the boy in confusion, to her husband and asked,

“What’s gotten into him?”

The butler just smiled a knowing smile with a very puffed out chest full of pride.

“Oh you know young men these days, honey. Full of energy for no reason at all.”

Taking more stairs two at a time, Sungmin screeched to a halt just outside the queen’s door. It had been three months. Three long months of talking to someone who was and still is a complete stranger. And yet.....he felt so close to her now. Much closer than when he first met her the day she almost hit him with her car. And now? He could admit that he was glad she hadn’t hit him. As odd as that was to think about.

Opening the door, his heart was hammering. No change. But that was okay. He’d wait. He’s waited three months. He can keep waiting. However long it takes. Because again----

She’s not allowed to die.

“You’re mom’s got fresh balloons for you. But I um.......I wanted to see you first. So......here I am.”

Wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, he closed the door behind him and locked it. Hopefully he could get this over with before the maid would come up with the balloons. This was something that he really didn’t want to get interrupted or disturbed. Not till he said what he had to say and do what he wanted to do.

Sitting down in the same chair he’d been sitting in for the past three months, he cleared his throat and placed his shaking, sweaty hands on his shaking knees. Eyeing her up and down, it calmed his frazzled mind a bit seeing how some color was coming back to her face. She was still breathing on her own too. No need for life support. The staff had been holding off on any further arrangements for her funeral and had called off the lawyers for her will to be completed. Hope was building within the house but they were still cautious.

“I see the maids trimmed your hair. Bout time. You were starting to look scraggly. And they cut your nails. Good. You don’t need claws either.”

He always had to get that jab in there. It wouldn’t be a typical conversation between the two of them if he didn’t. Looking down at her hands with her perfectly trimmed nails, he grew even more nervous; a lump forming in his throat. He could do this. He had to do this.

“I’ve been telling you this for days, weeks, even months. You’re not allowed to die. I keep telling you this. But since you don’t seem to be listening, I’m gonna have to use some drastic measures. You’re not the only one who can keep promises, little miss queenie businesswoman lady person.”

He’d never forget the day at the bus stop when she bout knocked his head off over being ‘accused’ of not keeping promises. She was certainly a woman of her word. But now it was his turn to make a promise. A promise that would hopefully keep his dignity intact without ruining his broody moody image.

“So I got you this ring, right? They call them promise rings. So the guy puts the ring on the girl’s hand and makes her a promise. It’s really cheesy and honestly it makes me gag but I’m making you a promise and you’re gonna help me keep it, got it?”

With a huff, he took out the little black box. Of course it was the classic crushed velvet box but it was nice all the same. Opening it up, he showed it to her and asked, “You like it?” Fully knowing he wouldn’t get a response, he let out a soft sputtering sound and added, “Of course not. You women are all the same. Can never be satisfied with anything you’re given.”

Taking her hand all the same, he took the ring in his other shaking and and gulped. He was really doing this. He was going to do this. He, the boy who had no heart and no will to live, was going to put a ring on a girl who had almost killed them both with her car. It was quite ironic. Life truly worked in strange and mysterious ways.

“I’m putting this ring on your finger and you’re gonna like it. I’ll super glue it to your finger so you can’t take it off. Now listen closely cause I’m only going to say this one more time. You’re not allowed to die. We’re a package deal. Partners in crime. If I’m not allowed to go, then you aren’t either. So you just need to stop being stubborn and open your eyes. Got it?”

There was a split second where he actually believed it would work. That all the talking and all the flowers and the songs composed....and the promise ring......he actually thought it might work. That he could believe the words of that stupid doctor all those months ago. But nothing changed. She still laid there motionless. The only difference now was that she wore a ring.

That night, Sungmin padded into the queen’s room and bout had a heart attack; shouting in surprise and nearly dropping the glass of water he had brought with him to water not only the flowers, but himself as well. Yes he liked water before bed.

Awake.

She was awake.

She was.........awake!

There she was, sitting up in bed like it was no big deal. Her one hand was carefully lifted as it still had the IV in her while her fingers carefully twisted and turned the shiny new ring on her finger of her other hand. A smile that was small but full of amusement. Looking up at him, she smiled wider and said casually,

“The ring’s nice. But you picked the wrong vase for those types of flowers.”

Silence.......

It was silent throughout the whole house. That was....till the boy snapped and flailed comically while complaining loud enough for the whole chateau to hear.

"Are you kidding me?! You're in a coma for three months, I composed songs about you, I put a ring on it, and all you've got to say to me is that I picked the wrong vase for those type of flowers?!"

The rest of the night consisted of her giggling while he ranted and vented about wanting a refund and how he was going to choke her with the cords keeping her alive or smothering her with one of the pillows on the bed. But she just winked and blew him kisses in a cheeky fashion.

Life wasn’t all bad. In fact.....it was kind of like......living in......

Utopia.

[hadleighcricketclub-blog]

Spinning around

It’s mid-season already – Glastonbury has just finished, Wimbledon has just started and the Cricket World Cup is just entering its sixth month. Did you see Kylie at Worthy Farm? Wasn’t she good? More outfit changes than an English club cricketer in April and May, and one of those rare Aussies no one, absolutely no one, wants to boo. 

Well, I must admit, our teams’ respective forms have been spinning around a bit lately – especially the 1st XI (pictured above). They were unfortunate to meet Coggeshall on the day that the Essex side’s overseas player made his debut – not just any old overseas either, just someone who plays in the Big Bash for Adelaide Strikers. Cue for some of the biggest hitting ever seen at our little old ground, which could comfortably fit within the inner ring of the MCG. After a 41-run win at home to Woolpit in a rain-affected game took Ben Wallis’s side up to 2nd in the table, we were starting to dream of a tilt at the title. But three defeats later against Ipswich, Lakenheath and Mistley - all teams we had high expectations of beating - and we are back looking over our shoulders. It is a very open league this year so anything is still possible as we enter the second half of the season.

The same could be said for the 2nd XI, who finally remembered not how to win but how to lose! There is no disgrace that three of those defeats have come against the top three teams in the table, and in all three Buster Tampion’s side could conceivably have won. We got within 24 of Stowupland’s 248, while the 107 we scrambled on a ‘sticky dog’ at Harwich looked like being enough when the home side were 64-7. Isaac Toombs almost carried his bat with 93 against St Margarets – I am sure it won’t be long before we are hailing our youngest ever centurion. At the other end of the age scale bodies are starting to creak. Emergency stocks of Deep Heat and Ibuprofen are on order.    

Simon Gladwell has been bamboozling batsmen with some stunning spells of off-spin recently. His 7-29 against Ipswich 2nds was we believe career-best figures for our bar manager, who banged the shutters down on Ipswich’s run chase that day. It is turning out to be an excellent season for Simon, who is taking part in his very own battle for the best bowling trophy, having also taken 6-20 against Battisford in May. As the wickets get dustier who knows what further destruction he may wreak?      

Perhaps, however, performance of the month should go to someone making his 2019 debut - Ben Daniels. He wisely avoided the excesses of the cocktail evening, and while everyone else was feeling decidely Rougham, he rocked up fresh as a daisy and took the Vitec bowlers apart with 117 not out - his maiden century for the club. Fancy playing a few more Ben?

The games have been coming thick and fast for the Ladies team, for whom Nia Evans is in fine form with both bat and ball, consistently scoring in the high 20s and early 30s. Charlotte Stenning is also performing well and against Bardwell the two combined to dominate the game, opening both the bowling and the batting, as the Ladies passed Bardwell’s 120 for the loss of just one wicket. The Ladies have won two and lost three at the halfway stage of their season.

On Sunday June 9th we hosted three matches in the regional T20 Women’s County Competition, with Northants winning both their matches against Suffolk (pictured below) and Norfolk, and Norfolk beating Suffolk. It was a great day and we have been delighted to receive favourable comments from the teams about the way we hosted the event. We were so lucky with the weather, as this was the day before one of the wettest weeks in living memory! 

What a month this could be. Could England be in the World Cup Final? Could they actually win it? What do you think Pete?

Pete’s not sure. 

[andrewuttaro]

New Look Sabres: GM 73 - TOR - The Nylander Bowl

There was a part of this season the Sabres and Leafs were on a collision course. Right after the win streak there was that game that felt like a real rivalry matchup. I suppose I’m a little bias since I experienced it in person, but I think we all felt the same way at the time. The Sabres, slotted right behind Toronto in the standings at that point looked like they were finally in the same league for the first time in a long time. Perhaps they were both in a quite shitty place together at one time but that’s not nearly as fun. That game was so close it damn near went to the shootout. It was not to be and since that matchup Buffalo has tumbled down a hill in a historic way, not only falling out of the playoff picture but losing so much in the back half that there is an outside chance they pick top 5 in the Draft. We can rehash our mournful lack of playoffs or we can look north of the border where getting playoff games hasn’t exactly made our Canadian brethren all that much happier. They have also been rather shit since the New Year, albeit not quite as shitty, and they’re now staring down the barrel of a first-round matchup that runs a high likelihood of knocking them out early. Trust me, I’m near to selling a kidney for a Sabres playoff series at this point but in Toronto they’ve had one going on in April three years in a row now and enter this one prepared to sound a five-alarm fire when their predicted knockout comes. The grass is always greener on the other side and sometimes with the way we talk about the Leafs that other side is the other side of the border as it were. This game was a bit of that. This game last night was hardly fun but when it was it reminded you of what this matchup could be a behemoth of a rivalry waiting to happen. I’ll save the Leafs’ playoff fate for Playoffs according to the Sabres because if you are a Leafs fan reading this… well first off thank you, share this, you Ontario folks love your hockey…  you probably aren’t from Toronto. Leafs fans who show up to Sabres games are mostly the St. Catherines/Hamilton bunch who either can’t afford Toronto ticket prices or just don’t want that. All the whining about Sabres fans not showing up for Leafs games is warranted but its more stupid than you think at first glance. Now let’s talk about the game that happened last night.

This game had fewer shots than some Church events I’ve been to, particularly that first period. Carter Hutton was playing the role of Nun evidently and stymied a lot of the Leafs fun. The game was grossly lopsided in favor of the not so lonely visitors from the start. The Sabres only had seven shots the whole period and didn’t break five shots until the final five minutes of the first. The Leafs shot 19 shots in the first. Some weaker opponents don’t put up that much in a game… like uh, the Sabres who only put up 24 shots the whole game! This lopsidedness perhaps colored both fanbases reactions then when the only goal of the period was by Sabre Casey Mittelstadt. Mittelstadt tapped in a Dahlin slapper from the line behind a Garret Sparks who was apparently struggling to locate the puck. Exhaustion may have been an excuse the Leafs could use, this being the back end of a back-to-back but Sparks was fresh as Spring morning so that didn’t extend to him. That said, the Leafs started on time and outplayed the Sabres in every category in the first except powerplay goals. Mind you, the Leafs have been in a bit of a funk lately and the fanbase is beginning to fire up the hot stoves for Mike Babcock’s firing. The funny thing is, they’re complaining about a lot of the stuff Sabres fans complain about Phil Housley about: player deployment, player minutes, roster choices… oh no, this is going to be another summer of courting hall-of-fame coaches isn’t it? HURRY, TO THE PEGULA JET! FIND QUENNVILLE’S HOUSE AND DROP MONEY ON IT! I DON’T WANT ANOTHER DAN BLYSMA, PLEASE! GENEROUS LOCAL PLUTOCRAT, PLEASE! I KNOW YOU CAN GIVE Q JUST AS MUCH MONEY IF NOT MORE THAN THE ENTIRE CANADIAN ECONOMY, DAMMIT!

Nonetheless, the Leafs funk was snapped out of in this game and they proceeded to put up another 19-shot period, this time scoring two goals. While the first period had a smattering of penalties that somehow the Sabres were the team to get something out of, the second period only had one and it was Zemgus Girgensons cross checking Nazem Kadri. I’m a Buffalo Sabres blog so by law I have to state what a little pest Kadri is. There you go. While I’m on it let’s just say if Girgensons scored as much as Kadri does I wouldn’t be thinking about what I can get for him in a summer trade. I’m just saying. That goes for you to, Risto. Poor Brandon Montour, showing off how great a pickup he was for the Sabres these last few games, he gets just bamboozled by Auston Matthews. You could see he didn’t realize it went in off his skate because he looked like a ghost had just given him a weggie. I’m not going to bring anymore light on his plight because once again, he’s been doing great. The feature of the second period I will bring to light is the almost goal William Nylander scored. John Tavares ended up getting credit for the second Leafs goal but for a moment it looked like it could’ve been Willie’s. Hold that image in your head as we fast forward to the third where we find noted brother of William Nylander, Alexander Nylander, getting a puck from VLADIMIR SOBOTKA, and absolutely drilling that one home from between the circles. If this game was going to be the Nylander bowl, which it is on this blog as long as it continues to feel like an unnecessarily lopsided matchup every time we face the Leafs, then fam, we have won. We won the Nylander bowl. Nylander < Nylander, obviously! Having already won the game with that goal, the Sabres pushed hard for the equalizer to perhaps force overtime and get their first back-to-back wins since November. By the time Zach Hyman scored the empty netter I was already popping bottles celebrating Buffalo’s first Nylander Bowl Title! All kidding aside, this game stung something mighty and ended up 4-2 Leafs. I literally cried in the shower.

Don’t worry, I was kidding about the shower. The good news is we have some fun speculation to talk about! I know I bit hard on the Duchene stuff and that didn’t come to pass but give me a break, the Sabres season is still active until I get back from seeing their last game in Detroit next month. Until then, I am going act like the championship can still be won with some key additions! To start out with Dave Poulin and Jeff O’Neill were having a little talk about Joel Quenneville on one of probably eight dozen hockey segments on Toronto radio stations the other day and they think Coach Q’s best option if he wants to return to coaching may just be Buffalo. All the stuff about whether or not Housley will get fired aside, is that something we want? I’ve talked about it hypothetically up until now but would the second winningest coach of all-time coming to Buffalo finally be the coaching solution we’ve been looking for since Lindy Ruff was shown the door back two millennium ago? There is certainly an argument and if it happened I can’t imagine Jason Botterill isn’t crafty enough a guy to A. work with him as now the smaller fish in the pond, and B. provide him with a good enough lineup to replicate some of the success he’s known for. I can imagine about half a dozen other options that don’t seem too bad either and also do something different than just bringing in the big Hall of Fame guy but its fun to speculate. This next rumor is all speculation backed up by zero experts… its actually more of a Play-a-GM kind of thing actually… what is the likelihood of Erik Karlsson? So: disclaimer; he’s not coming here, and that cap hit is probably not so bueno, but let’s imagine this low year he’s having with San Jose causes second thought and Karlsson leaves. He’s said he is proud of Rasmus Dahlin and loves the Swedish phenom, what if he mentored him like Ra’s al Ghul and Batman? Again, just saying. I saw some joking on twitter and it got me going. That’s what we’re here for: stupid fan shit like that.

So anyway: like, comment and share this blog around. I appreciate all you readers so much, whether you’ve been here all year or not. If you haven’t and you think it would be awesome to go back and read the win streak New Look Sabres posts than maybe use that time to share this with a friend instead; I did just that thing the other day and it made me sad. Speaking of things that make me sad: the Sabres have a chance to sweep the season series against the Montreal Canadiens on Saturday. Why does that make me sad? Well, we have now lost five straight games to the Leafs and it feels cheap to wipe out Montreal in a season series while not getting the Leafs the same way. It’s like going to the Duty-Free store on the border and getting Aunt Jemimah’s pancake syrup: you got all this Canadian around you and you take the crap! The only thing diminishes a season sweep of the Habs is getting swept on the season by the Leafs. I better end on a more positive note than that… Jeff Skinner hasn’t signed yet… SHIT!

Thanks for reading.

P.S. The Sabres getting a couple games in the “Global Series” in Stockholm, Sweden in November is pretty rad considering how much of this organization is Swedish now. On the other hand, I see all of us complaining about the travel and those games actually counting in the standings. Can we all resolve right now to just enjoy those games?

[digitalmark18-blog]

Time is running out for extremists on social media

New Post has been published on https://britishdigitalmarketingnews.com/time-is-running-out-for-extremists-on-social-media/

Time is running out for extremists on social media

LONDON: They are the new autocrats. Social media sites such as Facebook, Twitter and Google rule the world, unhindered by borders and apparently unhampered by regulation. But not, perhaps, for much longer. The British parliament is to consider introducing a law that would force online platforms to remove and ban extremist content of any nature, whether racist, xenophobic, Islamophobic or sexist. And in Brussels, the EU wants to fine online sites if they fail to remove “illegal and extremist” content within one hour. But campaigners say such measures — well-intentioned as they are — are doomed to failure. “The EU directive will change little. Less than 1 percent of the material out there is illegal because the staff on Google remove it automatically anyway. The other 99 percent is not illegal, even if it is extremist in nature,” said Fiyaz Mughal, founder of TellMAMA (Measuring Anti-Muslim Attacks). “This is just political bamboozling.” In her proposed Online Forums Bill, British member of parliament Lucy Powell aims to “tackle online hate, fake news and radicalization” by a) making moderators and administrators of social media platforms legally responsible for what appears on their sites; and b) making public the name of every secret Facebook group and how many members it has. Her bill has broad appeal. Powell, a member of the opposition Labour party, has garnered strong support from political opponents in the Conservative party. She is especially concerned with how Facebook, the world’s most popular social network with 1.8 billion active users, circulates extremist material and opinions through secret or closed groups, where membership is by invitation only. “Social media has given extremists a new tool with which to recruit and radicalize,” she said. “It is something we are frighteningly unequipped to deal with.” “Worryingly, it is on Facebook, which most of us in Britain use, where people are being exposed to extremist material. Instead of small meetings or obscure websites in the darkest corners of the Internet, our favorite social media site is increasingly where hate is cultivated. Extremist views go unchallenged. Unacceptable language is treated as the norm. There are no societal norms in the dark crevices of the the online world.” Fiyaz Mughal of TellMAMA agrees; he said he has made the same argument countless times to officials. “I’ve been called in by politicians and senior civil servants dozens of times, both at the Home Office (interior ministry) and the Ministry of Culture, Media and Sport, and what you get is a lot of hand-wringing and talk about free speech,” he said. “The English Defense League, a far-right group, regularly post material which is racist and Islamophobic — extremist — but it is not seen as illegal.” Closed Facebook groups may disguise their true nature, he said. “There is a group supposedly for atheists which is in reality a forum for the far right. How do we know? Because they sprinkle insignia associated with the (far-right) English Defense League all over the site. That closed group reaches 50,000 to 60,000 people, spreading hate against Muslims. Yet Facebook rejected our complaint, saying it did not contravene their standards.” Social media companies fail to act even when online abuse spills over into real life, said Mughal. “A Muslim woman got some abuse for something she had said and told the person to go away and leave her alone. The man who posted the abusive comment then turned up at the woman’s workplace and took photos, which he sent to her. It was intimidation, to show her he could get to her. “The police took action and were willing to arrest the man, but the woman said that would inflame the situation and asked for him to be cautioned only. I reported the incident to Facebook, but it took them four or five months to respond, and even then it was to say it did not contravene their standards. This was clearly a case of harassment and cyber-bullying, which are offenses. They clearly have no understanding of the law so who exactly is setting those standards for Facebook and all the rest?” In Brussels, the EU has also run out of patience. Back in March, Internet firms were given three months to show they were acting more speedily to keep extremist material off their sites. But their efforts have failed to impress. In his State of the Union address to the European parliament on Wednesday, EU chief executive Jean-Claude Juncker said that only legislation would force the companies to do the right thing. Under the proposed EU directive, they must within an hour take down any content that incites or advocates extremist offenses or shows how to commit such offenses or promotes extremist groups. If they miss that deadline they will face hefty fines of up to 4 percent of their annual global turnover, although they will also have the right to challenge removal orders. “One hour is the decisive time window (during which) the greatest damage takes place,” Juncker said. Mughal agreed that “the greatest dissemination of hate” happens in the first hour after posting. But the directive must be accepted by all 28 EU member states and also requires each country to put in place the capacity to identify extremist content online. “But what if the different states have different ideas about what constitutes extremist or hate speech? There is no single set of laws on this and the EU’s snail-like pace in tackling the far right is hardly encouraging.” There are solutions, he added. One is to re-classify all social media firms as publishers. “Publishers already bear responsibilities under the law, which means they can be taken to court and made to change. Or there should be an independent arbitrator with the power to impose fines. At the moment, if the police need to get involved, it is the public purse paying for a problem created by Facebook.” In a statement, Facebook defended secret groups as places where people could come together “in a safe way to discuss sensitive issues which might otherwise put them at risk in their society.” The statement went on: “Like all parts of Facebook, people in these groups must adhere to our Community Standards, which lay out what is and isn’t allowed on our service. These include strict rules around hate speech, harassment, bullying and terrorist and extremist content. When people break these rules, including in secret groups, we take action.” The company has invested in security to detect problem content “without anyone needing to report it,” and of the 2.5 million pieces of hate speech removed from Facebook since January, 38 percent were “proactively flagged” by Facebook before anyone reported it. On the EU directive, Facebook said: ”There is no place for terrorism on Facebook, and we share the goal of the European Commission to fight it and believe that it is only through a common effort across companies, civil society and institutions that results can be achieved. We’ve made significant strides finding and removing terrorist propaganda quickly and at scale, but we know we can do more.” Twitter and Google did not respond to requests for comment.

Source: http://www.arabnews.com/node/1372651/media