#i will Not have Not and will Never thirst over fictional men (real) (not fake)

[philzokman]

gguys s4 fukuzawa iin ssuit hfbfdndnfng

[sohoharlem]

No blogs will post this, except for me.

I’ve shared these thoughts with a friend of mine and I just want to post it here. All the gossip blogs out there are super biased, and I advise you to stay away from them, because they will never post anything that goes against that specific blog’s opinion. It’s not a health environment. What I'm going to say right now, is strictly opinion, but it’s one that I have found many agree with in secret, but for some odd reason are afraid of being lashed out at. But I'm taking one for the team. This is for those gossip blogs who refuse to listen to the other side because they paint an unrealistic version of a person they don’t even know in real life. ( Just to give you an idea of how blind, biased, and fucking stupid these blogs are, I submitted this to five different opinion blogs (the same ones obsessed with Ale) and not ONE wanted to respond or post it.)

This is for Sebastian Stan’s fans - the majority of them who worship the land he walks on. It’s based on the blind that came out, about two-ish months after he was spotted in NYC with his supposed “Girlfriend”, but many sources do believe their relationship was strictly PR, anyway.

Based on that above blind, I truly believe that his fans live in this big bubble of denial, where they believe Sebastian never has sex with anyone but the same person for an entire year. First of all, there is nothing wrong with men seeing strippers. And there is nothing wrong with escorts, it’s a choice. It doesn’t mean he is dirty or he is being reckless. He’s living his own damn life. He’s a grown ass man, probably 10+ years older than most of you. It’s also his choice, his money, and his life. He’s seen strippers in the past, and this might come as shocker to most of his innocent and new fans, but this (Sebastian Stan seeing strippers) is NOT NEW.

Stop thinking that this man has never fucked a woman raw or doesn’t like to feel good. Or that he doesn’t like sex. Stop trying to protect a grown man because you’re afraid of your image of him being tainted. I genuinely feel like most of his fans just keep coming up with excuse after excuse to make a rumor a lie in their eyes when it’s something that doesn’t work in their favor.

When the blind first came out, they all said this: “No way it’s him. He’s not A-List and he’s with his GF, and that sounds like something crazy. He’s also not the only actor right now filming. I think it’s Rob.” Funny how none of them debunked it as a lie, huh?

(It’s hilarious because they said the same exact thing about the COVID-19 on the TFATWS set blind, saying it was another movie when it ended up being confirmed it was in fact, The Falcon and The Winter Soldier. And it made fucking sense because of course they’d want to film regardless, they want to get it done. They are tired of putting shit on hold.)

Anyway…

The second the name comes out that confirmed the open minded people’s suspicions, the realistic people, his delusional fans started spewing shit like:

“His crazy fans made up this blind.”

Really? You really think ENTY just allows anyone? You think that’s how it fucking works? ENTY could get in serious trouble if this and the COVID blind was just a fan rumor. I highly doubt that’s how it fucking works. If that were the case, she would have over a hundred blinds a day of fans trying to stir up shit. Please. Get over yourself. A “fan”, ha! Another spew of shit I kept seeing was:

“Uh uh…uhm… *nervous laughter* but he would never do that. He would never see a stripper. It has to be a lie. I NEEED PROOOOOOF.”

My fucking. God.

Look. Even if it’s not real, which it very well could not be, be we don’t know, stop living in a bubble of denial where Sebastian fucking Stan is a 20 year old virgin and has never been to a damn strip club. You need a reality check if you think that’s the case. You need to be hit on the side of the head.

Real or fake, stop trying to make him fit your persona of him. 

In response to the whole GF thing, I’d just like to say that this whole blind is more proof than any of her  baiting we’ve had until now. And yet certain blogs still cling to a fucking blue sweatshirt, a picture of a dead fish, and a blurry pixillated fire pit picture. Where they zoom in so hard it becomes a tragedy. Just think about that for a second. Done? Okay good. And yet they call THAT proof. For the love of fucking God, are you kidding me? Are you fucking joking? They cling on a seem or color of a shirt more than a “revealed name”. 

I don’t understand the obsession with that girl, I really fucking don’t.

This isn’t me attacking and nor is it me being bitter. Some of his fans really just drive me nuts and you can tell they are so damn naive, and very biased. Want to know how biased they are and how naive? I bet you a picture could come out of him making out with a new girl and they would still say “Yeah but maybe he was paid to do it” or the awful “i need more proof.” ??????? THERE’S A PICTURE RIGHT THERE. 

These are the same fans that run away from him and unstan him and then GO BACK to him after he posts a thirst picture of him.

It’s so hard not to want to bang my head against a damn wall with the amount of stupidity I see. One of the most frustrating fandoms. Wish they’d grow up.

Please stop confusing Sebastian Stan with your precious Bucky Barnes. This is real life, not a fucking fanfic. Maybe if you stopped reading fanfiction you’d take on a different light on reality and learn to see the difference between your favorite fictional character and the real life man, who, news flash, has sex and not with you.

[streets-in-paradise]

Roadside Bet

American Gods and Percy Jackson crossover - Part 1

Word Count: 1767

Characters: Wednesday, Shadow, Eira ( Vanir demigoddess OC) 

Relationships: Platonic. 

Summary: Setted in season 1 of American Gods. Mr Wednesday takes his crew on a trip to New York hoping to recruit a powerful ally. Shadow starts asking questions about him and his curiosity unleashes a silly argument. 

Warnings: Some ageists jokes, the camp half blood concept from Percy Jackson is interpreted in American Gods’s style. 

Disclaimers: This serves as an introduction for my self indulgent attempt of writing fanfic including Sean Bean as Zeus in the American Gods universe. I couldn’t find fiction for Sean Bean’s Zeus and he’s so fine that I can't deal with it so I decided to include him in an idea I had previously in process for an American Gods fanfic. I apologise for any possible mistakes,english is not my native language and this is a translation. 

Tags: @yerevasunclair​. Our conversations about Sean’s Zeus inspired this. I’m tagging you in both parts. Thank you so much for the inspiration. 

I hope you ‘ll enjoy this. Thanks for reading

With the exception of Wednesday's bad mood, the trip was not having any major setbacks. The old man was quite unbearable because he hated New York and its exorbitant modernity, but he knew that this was a trip he was obliged to take. If he closed the deal he set out to make, he would gain a powerful ally, perhaps the most powerful one available. 

With only a few miles to go, he switched places with Shadow because he wanted to drive to relieve stress. Meanwhile, to alleviate the boredom during the break, he started to chat with Eira. The girl was sprawled out in the back seat listening to music on an old MP3 player dating from 2002. Shadow signaled her to take off a headset and pay attention to him. Listening to them, Mr. Wednesday rebuked her

“I told her to get rid of every modern toy before following us but she never listens. Eira!! Turn that rubbish off before I destroy it myself.”

�� Chill out, old man. This is ancient history technologically speaking. It doesn’t have wifi connection, or bluetooth, or anything. Nobody can try to track us through this, even the boy must have forgotten these things existed. It’s as safe as your car’s radio.” she replied in a tone that showed annoyance. 

 Shadow laughed, always amused to see the boss and his new co-worker arguing as a family. Wanting to pry into what she was hearing, he reached out to grab the earpiece she had taken out of her ear and placed it over his.

“ What’s that language?  Greek, I think? “ he commented about the music 

“Yeah, it 's greek. I’m getting ready for our next stop.” she explained. 

 “ Greeks? After what I experienced with the russians some time ago i thought we were going to New York to have a meeting with the japanese mafia or something like that. All your business partners seem to have a thing with extremely violent threats. “ he complained

“Don’t be so harsh with Bogo. Most people think he is scary and disgusting but i think he is great. He may be a bit of a psycho weirdo, he makes meat uncomfortable for everyone and sometimes he throws his cigarette smoke in your face but he is a very fun dude “ 

“ Bogo? Did you nicknamed him? He is a serial murderer who wants my head. “

“ We both live in Chicago, my mom tends to know everyone there and everyone knows her. I know him since i was a child, he is like a grumpy grandpa to me.”

That statement left him a bit shocked. Mainly because he did not imagine Czernobog being friendly to anyone or even being seen as friendly. 

“  Do you know the greeks? “ he asked, taking the opportunity to prepare for what was to come

“ No, I never had the pleasure, that’s why I'm so excited. They do their own stuff by themselves, they don’t tend to be very cooperative with the rest. Need is what pushed everyone else to start cooperating and created the unstable bonds of solidarity you had seen so far. They have their own functional system, they don’t need help from anyone. Even if they were struggling i doubt they would ask for it or accept it.” 

“ Very secretive people. How will we convince them to join Mr Wednesday? “ 

“  Let that to me, dear boy.” the boss interrupted . ”They never pick a side, not with us and not with the News. They are always pretending they are better than everyone else in that fake copy of their Olympus they made to themselves when all they actually have is a bunch of brats. If the big conflict starts they will have to choose one side and that’s where we enter.”

“I’m very curious about them "she added .” Their strategy is fascinating. They have a family business that keeps them standing for a very long time in conditions others would only dream to have. They adapted by being themselves without selling to the News.” 

” So, greek mafia then? ”  Shadow asked,curious and worried in equal amounts. 

 ” Never call them like that ever again. That’s very insulting and they are famous for being very arrogant and easy to irritate. Theo will carbonize you if he hears you calling him a mob boss. ” 

” Theo is their boss? He is the one we are visiting? ” 

 ” That’s how we call him, nobody dares to use his full name in casual conversation so we picked a middle ground epithet between his tradition and ours. Names are powerful, Shadow. You don’t have to use them in vain. ” Eira explained. ” Honestly, I'm very excited to meet someone so powerful. Most of the still strong names out there had given up and sold their brands to the News but Theo and his people are still successful. They are living the lifestyle of the Old Country, or at least the closest copy they can get in America. Wednesday is salty because he was never able to agrupate our kind in a similar project. My work for him is the closest thing he got, I’m one of the very few children of his associates who got invested and that’s only because my mother kept me with her. I’m not precisely the rule, that’s why practically i grew up to be here now. ” 

Shadow started to get severly worried .The repeated comment about the power of the people who were going to see kept him on his toes. He didn't want to get into any more trouble. 

 ” Do you want to give me a list of stuff to avoid when facing this Theo? I’m starting to freak out a bit and I don't understand a shit of what you are saying except for “ he is powerful”.  ” he asked her

 ” Don’t worry i will be there with you the whole time and i have more experience dealing with this sort of thing than you. Wednesday should have brought you to my mother’s home first instead of going straight to the russians when you visited our city. Don’t be scared, if you screw it up i will help you out”. 

Wednesday did not missed the chance to give his own advice as well

 ” The best for both of you is to keep your mouths shut as much as you can. “ he warned. ”Smile, nod in agreement, answer only what it’s being asked of you in the moment. This goes especially for you, young lady. ” he concluded in an imperative tone. 

”  Why the sudden care? You didn’t when we were visiting others. Are you afraid of him? ” she teased. 

”  Never, how could you suggest that? I’m restraining you because I don't want you to shift the focus of our negotiation. Theo has a weakness for youthful maidens like you.” he replied, scolding her again. 

 ” Then I should be the one negotiating with him.Wouldn’t be easier to convince him? ” 

” They don’t make him particularly weak, they are his favourite distraction. He enjoys himself when they get affected by his charm. Our business is the war and nothing more. Less you talk, less chances of distracting him too much.” 

Shadow was getting some entertainment with the discussion and intervened to give his opinion

” He doesn’t want this guy doing to you what he does to other women. ”he stated, mocking Wednesday. ” He wouldn’t admit it but he cares for you. He doesn’t want to see some horny old dude around you, thirsting over you and making you feel uncomfortable.” 

 ” My concern is not her safety, it’s her loyalty what troubles me. She works for me, she represents me. I don’t want her to forget it in front of him.” 

” Wednesday, he is older than you. ” Eira complained, trying to make him understand how ridiculous he sounded. ” Why would i care about him flirting with me? I’ll smile at him, pretend i’m pleased with his commentaries to keep him happy enough for you to close the deal and that’s all. It’s not the first time it happened, i’m used to casual flirting. Mad Sweeney had done it the few times we had seen each other,  some others associates of yours do it sometimes. The people we see tend to get flirty, Shadow has experienced it as well. It’s part of the job. ” 

” Mad Sweeney is a drunk loser, we are talking of real power here. Watch your steps and don’t embarrass me.”  Wednesday insisted. 

Shadow couldn’t stop laughing 

” Is he truly afraid you would be seduced by a man older than him? He has to be kidding, he is one of the oldest men i ever meet so how old is the greek ? 95?” 

 ” I may not be into the Technical Boy despite being closer in age terms to him than to most of the dudes we had dealt with but that doesn’t mean i’m into senior citizens. A middle ground is good, thanks. ” she joked, joining the mockery. 

” You two are too young to understand some very important aspects of how things work here. I’m warning you before it’s too late.”  Wednesday replicated.

 ” Whatever, thanks for the advice. I will have it in mind the next time an irresistable senior citizen shows up.You don’t know anything about my tastes in men and you are projecting your own crap on me. You may have a thing for girls of my age but not all of us get horny for grandpas. Some do and i don’t judge them but i’m not one of them.” 

 ” Wait and see. ” the old man replied in the same mocking tone. ” I would like to bet. I did it when Shadow fought the leprechaun, now it’s your turn. ” 

 ” We don’t have anything of value you may want.He just got out of jail and it’s not like mom would give me her Brisingamen just because i lost a bet to you. ”  

 ” Shadow, are you in? ”  the boss asked 

 ” What would i win? ” 

 ” If Eira feels condescendingly repulsed by the greek i double your weekly pay. If he charms her  i discount a percentage .” 

 ” If she doesn’t feel attracted to an old greek you duplicate my pay? Sure, i’m in. it is a safe bet, right?” he asked her 

” He talks bullshit, i’m not interested. Go ahead.” she assured him 

 ” I had never been happier standing in the middle of your silly fights. ” 

The youngsters spent the rest of the trip making fun of Wednesday's ridiculous bet, sure they were going to win. The old man laughed in their faces, he was playing with them again.  

Note: Theo is a name with two possible etymological origins, one greek and one germanic. A long time ago i read a theory that said the greek form Deos was associated with Zeus. I recently read that wasn’t the case but i still found it fitting for Zeus. 

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 65

~*~Sebastian~*~

I turned back toward the others. Sam was looking at me, "You're hopeless."

I looked around, hoping she was looking at someone else, "What? Why?"

"Three weeks ago with the good luck kisses and Reese Cups you were ridiculous. This week... hopeless. You're a big soft squishy marshmallow of a boyfriend. I expected more."

I went for a confused look, "Do we know each other well enough for you to ride my ass like this?"

She smiled, "Apparently."

I held up a finger in Scott's direction before he could say anything. Everyone laughed.

We talked, laughed, and drank until the ref blew the whistle. Like earlier I was between Sam and Mallory. Sam leaned closer, "Too far?"

I knew she was referring to her teasing after Emma left. "Oh hell no, perfect." I sat back enough to include Mallory. "Thank you. I'm much more comfortable in front of five hundred people than in a small group. Expectations are different. You fucking with me lets new people know I’m just a guy here to watch his girlfriend play volleyball."

Sam looked at Mallory, "See, hopeless."

Mallory smiled, "Yeah, but cute as hell."

“Am I imagining the southern accent? It comes and goes.” I looked between the two of them and they indicated I wasn’t imagining. “Southern accents are trouble.” I shook my head, took a drink of my beer, and watched them win the first set.

Emma ran over, "Hungry. Would you order me something, please?"

I gave her a thumbs up and I had plates of appetizers ready when they got to the table. After losing. I slid off the stool, giving it to Emma, standing behind and to the side. I reached around her to eat while my other hand kept in contact with her. Touching her back. A slide across her shoulders. Anything for the contact. When Emma was finished eating, she leaned back, using me as a backrest. I leaned in and kissed her temple, my hidden hand on her hip.

I can't explain my want for contact. Before we met, before I saw her, before I heard her voice, I knew the feel of her touch. Her hand on my arm. Since that first touch, I've always wanted it. Maybe it's because touch was the first thing I knew. Like if the first thing you're attracted to is someone's smile you always remember the first one and want to see it again. I've never been touch hungry like this. I don't mind, kind of like it actually, and I'm not all in trying to overthink the why. It's just different. Hopefully, the relationship outcome will be different too.

Mallory's voice saying, "Barbie Bitches at ten o'clock," drew me out of my thoughts.

Emma said, "They're really not that bad."

Mallory snorted, "Yes, yes, they are."

There was a group of five heading our way. Three women and two men. I'm going to go ahead and guess the bleached blondes are the Barbie Bitches. There is a natural blonde in the group, so I could be wrong. The men were lagging a little behind. The one with short black hair had a full beard and the other had shoulder-length brown hair with a couple of days growth of beard. I don't feel jealous or insecure, but I am aware these are men she knows. Possessive. Protective. Proud. Definitely wanting to mark my territory, I guess her using me as a pillow does that. If she sits up I may have to kiss her. Tragic.

One of the guys recognized me first. He elbowed the other and nodded. I went on talking with Nick about the best flavors for chicken wings. I’m partial to teriyaki. Hot sauces aren't for me. I like flavor over burning the shit out of my mouth.

The five reached the table, hugs and handshakes for those nearby. Emma leaned forward and the hand I had on her hip magically moved to her shoulder when other eyes locked on me. Beside me, I heard Sam mumble, "Hopeless."

I looked at Sam and laughed, giving her a silent thank you. I realize someone in my line of work not liking to be the center of attention seems strange. Work and personal are different. Meeting her friends is personal, but the first minutes when they're recognizing work me is uncomfortable. I wish it wasn't. I don't like it.

Emma did the introductions, "This is my boyfriend Sebastian." I do like how she gives me a title. It feels like a diversion, setting an expectation. There's no question who I am. I'm not Sebastian with a dangling "the actor."  I’m Sebastian "the boyfriend." That makes me uncomfortable too but in a much more fun way. She pointed as she gave names. "Justin, Caleb, Rose, Tammy, and Toni."

There was no way in hell Toni and Tammy weren't the Barbie Bitches. I was right about the hair too. I waved, "Hi, nice to meet you. Everybody work with Emma? Teachers?"

They told me what they taught. Toni and Tammy are English, Rose is Physics, Caleb is History, and Justin teaches programming and robotics. I looked at Rose, "I got a zero on my physics final." They laughed and I shrugged. "In my defense, of the eight seniors, the highest grade was a fifteen."

"You had a shitty teacher."

I widened my eyes and nodded in agreement, “Yeah, he gave us shit about the scores. I told him they said more about him than us. Finals were over, I didn't care."

Everyone started sharing stories from being a student or things students had done. Turned into a competition between the high school and elementary teachers for the most inappropriate comments and behaviors. High school was funny because they knew what they were doing, elementary because they didn't. I felt embarrassed for the mom who got the call her vibrator had made it to show and tell.

The game going on behind us was in the last set. Emma took off for the bathroom. When she came back, she went to the middle of the high school teachers, thanking them for coming. She was a good hostess.

Toni glanced at me before turning to Emma, "Are we really supposed to pretend he's not Sebastian Stan?"

Several things happened all at once. On one side of me, Samantha said, "Yes." On the other side, Mallory groaned. In front of me to the right, Tammy nodded her agreement with Toni. A little to the left, Emma said, "No."

Guess who I want to hear more from?

"You don't have to pretend you don't know who he is. But first and foremost, he's a person, so we're not going to talk about him like he's not right there." Emma looked at me with a smile. I was uncomfortable again. However, her protectiveness is hot.

Tami grimaced, "Sorry."

Emma hugged her to soothe the rebuke, "He scrambles my brain sometimes too."

I want to scramble more than her brains right now.

Tami looked at me as Emma headed around the table. "I'm sorry, Sebastian."

I waved away the apology, "You can ask me anything you want about work when they're warming up. The rest of the time I'm here to watch my girlfriend play."

It was Justin who did the fist pump, "Yes!"

I laughed.

Caleb faked a cough, "Fanboy."

"And not ashamed."

I had a fan. Sweet.

I'd taken Emma's seat when she left. When I started to get up she shook her head. She stood right up on me, laying her hand on my thigh. I lifted my arm over her, my hand landing on her ass, and my fingers going under the leg of her shorts to run my fingertips along the curve of her ass. My other hand, which was already under the table, moved her hand from my thigh to my crotch. I never stopped talking with Dawn. Beside me, Sam turned her back to me and leaned against the table, blocking anyone else from seeing. She’s definitely my favorite.

I was torn when the other game was over. I would miss our under the table fun, but the sooner the game was over the sooner we could go home.

Jeff walked around the table, heading toward the court. He pointed at me, "Your last good luck kiss sucked. Do better."

I jumped off the stool, grabbed Emma, dipped her low, and kissed her slow and deep. It felt very good. Reluctantly, I set her back on her feet. I looked at Jeff with my eyebrows raised.

Jeff grabbed Emma's arm and pulled her toward the court. "Much better. Thank you."

I turned back to the table to find all eyes on me. I shrugged with my hands up, "Taking one for the team." I took my spot back on the stool.

Justin leaned onto the table, "I have questions about stunts and drone shots." That conversation went on for a while. I could talk all day about that shit because it’s not directly me.

Toni wanted to know about Evans. Nia asked about gossip sites.

"I don't go there. Anybody can pretend to know anything and people will believe it if they want to. Even random guesses are going to be right sometimes. A friend had something real show up. It's best to ignore it. It'll go away with the next scandal. A lawsuit confirms and calls more attention." I could tell Rose had a question, "Go ahead."

She smiled, "Fanfiction."

I returned the smile, "What about it?"

"Love it? Hate it? Any favorites?"

I finished the last of my beer, considering how honest to be. I went all in. "I'm human. I got curious. For about a week. It doesn’t bother me. If a character I brought to life feeds someone's creativity I’m flattered. There are good stories and good writers out there. One of those could write a script, hell, for all we know someone who won an Oscar used to write fanfic."

"Real person stuff?"

I bobbed my head back and forth while looking at Dawn. "Still fiction and no more me than Bucky is. The imagination and amount of time spent on me is still flattering. All that's a step away. Now, the thirst tweets. Those are the things I wonder if people realize I see that. Fanfic is about an imagined version of me. Tweets and comments on Instagram are directed to me."

Caleb jumped in, "I bet you get the same things live at photo ops and shit though."

I nodded, "Some people lack boundaries."

Cindy said, "You looked uncomfortable reading those thirst tweets."

"Sort of." I laughed, "I wasn't embarrassed by content, just reading them out loud."

There were a few more questions before the whistle blew for the start of the game. I said, "Boyfriend time" and turned around.

It was another nail biter of a game. They lost the second set. All of us were screaming and clapping. It was a lot of fun. I liked this, being the spectator while hanging with her friends. I’ve always liked going to things and being the support person for friends. Fuck knows I’ve asked that from them enough. What I didn’t like was that this place didn't have Reese cups and the deck was too high for a between set kiss. Piece of shit dive bar.

They won the final set with a rejected spike by Becky and Nick. The team jumped in the air and hugged. So did Sam, Mallory, Scott, and I. I moved out of the middle to get to her first. In my head, I could hear Sam calling me hopeless.

I walked toward the opening to the court and met them, handing out words of praise. Emma stepped onto the deck and crossed the short distance into my arms. I kissed her head, "You did good."

"Thank you." She left my arms, kissed me, and took my hand. "It was a fun game. And I didn’t hurt myself."

We headed back to the table talking about plays and laughing. Emma sat down and pulled a beer from the bucket. I leaned my elbows on the counter behind me between Emma and Mallory, stretching out my back to reverse the hunching over during the game. I watched her profile as she talked with her friends. I could stand here looking at her all night. It didn't take long before I saw her energy drain away. Her smile shrank and her eyes lost their sparkle. I stood up, tucked a piece of hair that had escaped her ponytail, behind her ear, and waited until she turned her head like I knew she would. "You're tired." Not a question. She nodded. I turned to Mallory, "You ready?"

"Anytime."

I put Emma's bag on my shoulder. Emma stood up, "We're heading out."

Several other people said they were too. It wasn't late, but it was a weeknight.

I waited while they hugged their goodbyes. Mallory was back to me first. I slung my arm around her shoulder, "She's like a hostess saying good night to her guests."

Emma heard me and smiled. She joined us and I put my arm around her too. "Nice to meet everybody. I’m sure we'll do this again. Have a good night."

The three of us walked around the building to the CRV. I put in the code, opening the passenger and rear door, closing it behind them. I could see Mallory put a hand on Emma's arm and while I could tell they were talking I couldn't hear them. I walked a little slower around to the driver's side.

They didn't stop when I got in. Mallory was telling Emma about the questions during warm-up. When I turned to back out, Emma looked at me, "I'm sorry you were uncomfortable."

I smiled, "It was fine."

Emma's hand went to the back of neck, "I don't like you being uncomfortable. My friends making you feel that way."

"I don't enjoy it either, but it's part of being with you. You get my fans and a lot of other bullshit. I get your friends. I got less uncomfortable as they got used to me." I took her hand from my neck, kissing it before laying our joined hands on my leg. "I did like you going protective. You handled it well."

Emma barked a short laugh, "I wasn't ok with them objectifying you."

Mallory added, "I call them Barbie Bitches for a reason."

I laughed, “I’ve survived worse.”  Emma leaned over and kissed my cheek. “See, all worth it.”

“Emma, you know they’ve sent out shit. Your room is going to be Grand Central tomorrow.”

Emma sighed. I thought to say something but wanted to hear from her first. I wasn’t surprised by her response. “You can stay at home if you want.”

“Without you?”

“Yeah, I have to get packed up but you don’t have to go.”

“Nope.” It was never an option. “What sort of an asshole would I be if I’m not willing to deal with your co-workers dropping by your classroom. I promise you what you’re going to have to deal with will be much worse.”

“I get that, but to be fair, there’s not been much fall out from your fans.”

From the back seat I heard, “There will be. Probably is, but you don’t have an online presence to know.”

I nodded backward, “What she said.”

“I don’t know how your fans react to girlfriends, but I was a huge One Direction fan. Fans were brutal to their girlfriends. One released a cookbook and they left shitty reviews bringing her rating down on Amazon. Death threats to one if they broke his heart. They went all the way back in their social media and dug up shit. Hopefully, your fans are older.”

“Not always.” I guess this is when we’re going to talk about this. Maybe having a friend who’d been a fan would be helpful. “I won’t say fans cause breakups, but they don’t help. It’s complicated. There’s more nice than ugly, but a lot of time the ugly is really ugly.  Like you said, trashing her career, her cookbook because of who she’s dating. Girlfriends don’t always react well. Friends don’t always react well. The men, me, don’t always react well. I’m good at hiding when I don’t want to be seen, but I don’t understand people who can hide whole relationships for years. Hell, we’ve already been spotted having lunch. Two weeks in. I don’t know what the right answer is, because I haven’t found it.”

Emma jumped in,  "On the plane home I went looking around. There is a blog with all your relationships. Chronologically."

I'm sure I looked horrified. Because I was. "I don't want to know that. I don't want you to know that."

Emma grimaced and shook her head. "I didn't read any relationship stuff. I'd have to give you my high school and college diaries to equalize the invasiveness." She faked a shudder and Mallory laughed. Emma continued, "I was looking for fan reaction. There were links to Instagram posts, Twitter threads, and other blog posts. They have lots of opinions."

"Yeah, I know."

"You can't win." She pointed at herself, "Neither can I."

She’s not telling me anything I don’t already know. "And you're still here. Are you crazy?" This was a legitimate question.

Emma reached over to play in my hair again, "Only about you. I'm going to focus on what I can do something about. You and I. I'm too curious to not look, and I can't promise it won't get to me, but at the end of the day I get you." She leaned across the console and I met her for a kiss. "Also going to keep my shit on private."

Mallory spoke again, “I know it’s totally none of my business.”

I interjected, “Wouldn’t be discussing in front of you if we weren’t ok with your opinion. Sometimes outside opinions see things better. Especially if you watched a fan meltdown before. Thank fuck I’m not in One Direction.”

“Can you sing?”

“Not in a way anyone wants to pay to hear. Maybe a charity karaoke or something.” I liked injecting laughter into a not funny conversation. I worried about this. I worried about Emma get drug through shit.

“I think you have to find a balance. You can’t do something because of fans, but you can’t avoid things either. Fans don’t react well to being kept in the dark, but they are quick to be pissed by baiting or what they think is rubbing their face in something.” She put her hand on her chest, “For me, and remember I was seventeen, I didn’t care about casual dates or whatever, but if it was serious and they were being spotted everywhere it was different. Then it becomes fans creating their own stories if they don’t have the real thing. Some fans got pissed when they could see what was going on, but being told nothing was going on. Felt like they were being lied to or treated like crazy fans. Again, with balance. How much are you ok with revealing versus how much fiction is tolerable. Emma’s right. You can’t win.”

I waited until we got to a stoplight and turned to look at Mallory, “Now, you’ve given me things to think about.”

Mallory shrugged, “I think you play to the sane stable fans. The others are going to create chaos no matter what.”

“Ummm.” I was full of thoughts.

Emma chuckled, “Will you be filling me in on these thoughts.”

“When I’m done overthinking and sorting through them.”

They went back to talking and I tried to leave all the thoughts behind. They needed to simmer. I’d look at them later. When we reached Mallory’s place I jumped out and ran around to the other side of the car. I pulled Mallory into a hug. Initially, she tensed and I was afraid I’d entered unwanted affection territory, but she quickly relaxed and hugged me back. I’d just surprised her. “Thank you for everything. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Emma was smirking when I got back in, “What?”

“I think you get comfortable with people before they’ve totally adapted to you.”

I knew what she meant. “I hug too quick.”

“No, no, no. Not too quick. It’s just fun to watch the reaction because getting used to talking to you is very different than being in your arms. You up close is better looking than you a few feet away. Your blue eyes. And your arms and chest feel . . . mmm.” She shimmied in the seat, “So good.”

“That may be just you.”

She started laughing. Hard. “I don’t think you believe that.”

She was right. I started laughing with her, “I do know I can cause a reaction. Not gonna lie, it’s fun.”

“I can’t wait to see you with a group of fans..”

“It’s a mind fuck. Prepare to deflate my ego. I can get a little out of hand after events.”

“Really?”

I nodded, “Part of why I take friends with me when I can. Hours of screaming, crying, and shaking fans. Being told your gorgeous and they love you. The stories about what something I’ve done has meant to them. It’s all pretty heady shit.”

“Plus all the hugs and inappropriate comments from beautiful women.”

Well, I walked myself into this. Luckily, I could tell she was teasing me and not taking it seriously. “You know how visual I am.”

“You just bring all that pent-up sexual energy home to me and we’ll work it off.” She patted my thigh. “And if you’re getting too cocky we’ll go to a Pearl Jam concert and you can feel the love rolling off fifty thousand plus people all at once.”

Comparatively, I ain’t shit.

[mycatshuman]

Dark Hood: Chapter 4

Warnings: light violence, talk of kidnapping, violence

Virgil rubbed a hand over his pale face as he sighed. He remembered what Patton whispered to him a few moments ago. You don't have to tell them everything. Just the basics. Just the basics was good. He could deal with the basics. He felt Patton give his hand a reassuring squeeze. Virgil gave him a grateful smile before turning to the two men across from him. Virgil took a few deep breaths to calm his anxious heart.

"Okay, why don't you tell us what you know about," Virgil scoffed. "The 'Hooded Men'," he sneered. Creativity went to open his mouth but Virgil cut him off. "Not you Princey!" The man pouted "Logic, do tell." Logic suppressed his frown and straightened his blue tie.

"The Hooded Men are a group of people who have been breaking into homes and stealing valuables. There are even rumors that accuse them of murder. They are alleged to live in a forest known as the Storm Cloud forest. The forest is believed to have some sort of supernatural curse or legend tied to it." Logic scoffed at the thought. The supernatural wasn't real, everything could be explained by science. Virgil broke out laughing causing the two men to look at him, puzzled. "What?" Logic asked, a bit too harshly. How dare someone laugh at him.

Virgil shook his head, still laughing. Suddenly, Patton's eyes lit up. "Your belief that the supernatural is not real is so strong its almost....." Patton paused, fighting to keep the smile off his face. "Supernatural." Logic groaned as Virgil burst into another fit of laughter as he fell to the floor clutching his stomach. Even Creativity couldn't hold back a giggle at his friend's distress. Logic put his head in his hands. Why weren't they taking him seriously?

Eventually, Virgil stopped laughing and pulled himself off the floor. He sighed. "Oh, you just...it's hard to..." Virgil trailed off, a grin plastered on his face. "You know what, let's just tell you the truth." At this, the other two men became more composed, ready to face whatever lies these two "criminals" had come up with. What they got was not something they prepared for.

"Okay. So you are right, we do break into houses and 'steal'," Virgil emphasized the word 'steal' with air quotes and a sneer. Logic and Creativity shared a look. "'Valuables'," there were those air quotes and sneer again. "But, tell me this," Virgil leaned forward. "Can you name any of the 'valuables' that were stolen?" Creativity went to answer but closed his mouth abruptly as he couldn't ever remember being told exactly what was stolen, just that something was stolen. He looked over at Logic only to discover that he had the same problem.

Reluctantly, Logic answered. "No, we can not." Logic shifted, uncomfortably. Creativity tried not to let his jaw drop at the uncharacteristic shifting of his friend. Logic adjusted his glasses. "I suppose it is correct to assume that you are going to tell us what exactly it is that you took?" Patton nodded. The poor man was so uncomfortable and out of his element. Patton wanted nothing more than to hug him and make him comfortable but, Virgil had warned him that might not be the best idea.

"We will, but first let me ask you another question. Would you consider these people we 'stole' from rich?" The question threw the two men off again, judging by the startled looks on their faces. Virgil almost laughed.

"I do not see how this is relevant," Logic said after getting over the initial shock of the absurdity of the question. Virgil rolled his violet eyes behind his bangs.

"Yes, because you don't have the whole story yet, but you will. Just answer the question." Logic gave Virgil a disdainful look before answering.

"Yes. I would consider the people you stole from rich." Creativity glared at Virgil. Was this just some big game to the nightmarish emo?

"It's funny isn't it? How can people be considered valuables?" The startled faces on Logic and Creativity's faces made Patton squirm. This was going to be a lot to take on. "I suppose I am being overdramatic." Virgil gave the men infront of him a deep frown. "Those monsters couldn't care less about the people they kidnapped. They only cared about what they produced." Both Patton and Virgil shuddered. Logic and Creativity shared a glance. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. "Blood." Creativity scoffed in an attempt to cover up his shudder.

"What do you mean?" Logic asked. Virgil growled as Patton looked at Logic with sympathetic green eyes.

"Those 'people' who claimed to have their valuables stolen are not human. Their vampires."

⚡⚡

Logan felt the words hit him like a ton of bricks as he sat back in his chair. His expression a mask of surprise, confusion and horror. This...this can't be real. Vampires were not real. They were fake, make believe. They were a monster created for entertainment. They were based off of a real man who's metaphorical "thirst" for blood was so great that people couldn't comprehend "why?" and therefore turned him into a monster so they didn't have to face the truth. That anyone was capable of evil. Vampires were imaginary. Once Logan got over his shock he felt rage. HOW DARE THESE MEN INSULT HIS IQ!?! He was NOT some child who could be convinced of monsters under the bed and in the closet.

Logan slammed his fists on the table, causing Roman and Morality to flinch. Anxiety, however, seemed to expect this reaction and stayed still. Logan's anger flared. How dare this liar sit there, laid-back with his arms crossed. "Falsehood," Logan said low and menacing. Morality's eyes shifted quickly between him and Anxiety. Panic clearly visable behind his glasses. Even Roman seemed slightly tense and concerned.

Anxiety rolled his eyes. "I take it you want proof?" He asked nonchalantly. He took Logan's glare as his answer and stood, going over to the door and knocked. The door cracked opened. "Send him in please," Anxiety said.

"On it," was the response and Anxiety sat back down in his chair. He leaned back and set his feet on the table.

"Man, the tension in here is thick. You could almost cut it with a fang," Morality tried as he smiled weakly. Logan's glare remained on Anxiety. Anxiety wouldn't admit it out loud but, Logan's stare was begining to make him uneasy. He fought hard to not squirm.

"Virgil," Anxiety supplied, breaking the silence. That seemed to break Logan out of his rage and replace his glare with a confused expression.

"What?" Roman shared the same look. Morality, on the other hand, whipped his head over to his friend with wide eyes.

"Anxiety...?" Anxiety looked at him and shrugged.

"They wanted the truth," he told the dirty blonde haired man. He turned back to Logan and Roman. "Might as well give it to them."

"What are you talking about?" Roman snapped. Anxiety snorted.

"You really are stupid." Roman let out an offended cry as his hand flew to his chest. "We even told you we weren't going to..." Anxiety pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed in. "Virgil. That's my name." Logan and Roman stared in shock. Anxi- Virgil was putting a lot of trust in them to tell them his name.

Morality spoke up. "Patton," he supplied cheerily. Logan and Roman shared a glance. It would only be fair if they gave their names. Roman grumbled at the thought. Logan adjusted his glasses.

"Logan."

"Roman," Roman mumbled, pouting. Patton squealed.

"Nice to meet you guys!" Virgil chuckled softly as he shook his head. He opened his mouth to say that they had already met when a knock at the door stopped him. Virgil's face turned serious. He stood and went to the door and opened it to allow another to walk in.

Logan and Roman surveyed the newcomer. It was a man with chocolate brown hair wearing a white shirt under a black leather jacket with skinny jeans and boots. He typed away on his phone as he sipped from a plastic Starbucks cup before looking at Virgil and smiling. Virgil nodded his head as he shut the door behind him. Logan noticed even though the man was inside, he made no move to remove his dark sunglasses.

"Hey gurls! How have you been?" The man greeted Patton. A warm smile crossed Patton's face.

"I'm doing good." The man turned his head to Logan and Roman.

"So these are the guys?" He asked Virgil. His voice seemed to say "are you kidding me?" Virgil nodded.

"Yeah," Virgil smirked. "They need proof." The other man nodded and Logan saw Patton grimace slightly.

"Go easy on them. They don't know any better," Patton told the man. The man nodded but smirked mischievously. Logan stopped Roman from opening his mouth and making a mistake. Roman's brown eyes shot over to Logan and saw the blue eyed man shake his head. Roman grumbled and crossed his arms. The man turned to them.

"I'm Remy. Now my friends here, tell me that you two don't think vampires exist. Now as a vampire, that is really mean and I will not stand for it. No ma'am. I will not stand for it at all," Remy told them as he took another sip of his drink.

"You're trying to tell me that vampires are real," Logan asked as he raised an eyebrow. Remy looked at him over his sunglasses.

"Duh." Logan pinched the bridge of his nose and let out an aggravated sigh.

"Vampires are not real. They are a fictional species based on Vlad Țepeș." Remy's eyes flared red behind his sunglasses. Within a flash, Logan was shoved against the wall, Remy's arm against his throat. In Remy's anger, his glasses had fallen off his face and Logan could see the enraged red eyes as they flashed dangerously.

"Listen here, nerd. Just because you've never seen something doesn't mean it isn't real," Remy growled, his voice low. Logan's heart pounded hard against his chest as he saw glistening white fangs protruding from the others mouth. Roman stared on in stunned shock. "Have you ever seen a largetooth sawfish?" Logan shook his head. "There you go. You can believe in a fish you've never seen, why not a vampire?" Remy stepped back as Logan dropped and pulled breath back into his lungs.

Roman snapped out of his trance and rushed to his friend's side and rubbed his back as Remy stepped away. He picked up his sunglasses and sat on the table, watching the two huddle on the floor. Virgil frowned. "You guys have taken the words of these rich vampires and believed them without much thought," Patton started.

"Patton, Remy, the others and I, are not the bad guys. We catch word of a vampire holding a human captive, and we come in and try to rescue them. Simple as that. Sometimes we have vampires come to us and ask if we know a way of turning them back and we try our best to help them." Virgil stared at the two on the floor, imploring them to understand.

"What about the murders?" Roman accused. Virgil rolled his eyes.

"Were they really murders?" Virgil asked. Roman let out an outraged cry as his face burned red with rage.

"Of course it is!" Roman seethed as he glared at the man in the patched hoodie. Remy let out a laugh as he watched the drama play out. Virgil turned to Logan.

"What is the definition or definitions of murder?" Logan sighed.

"The unlawful premeditated killing of one human being by another and to kill (someone) unlawfully and with premeditation," Logan answered. Virgil nodded.

"Destroy. The word you are looking for is destroy. 'You can not kill that which is already dead.' We did not kill a living thing. We destroyed a undead being."

"You destroy vampires?" Logan asked. Patton wringed his hands as Virgil nodded.

"You have a vampire as friend," Roman shouted in disbelief. Remy chuckled.

"Gurl, they are getting rid of the nasty vamps. The vamps that would see all of humanity in chains and whatnot. They won't destroy me as long as I'm not like that," Remy replied as he scrolled through his phone.

"I have so many questions," Logan spoke, slightly dazed. Patton chuckled.

"We'd be happy to answer them. Before we do that," Patton beamed brightly at them. "Would anyone care for refreshments?"

-----

(Okay, that was alot. And another character! I hope nobody minds that I used the name Remy. I honestly had a somewhat different plan and I kinda changed it a bit. Feedback is always appreciated! I hope you "guys, gals, and non-binary pals" enjoyed it! I wish you all a marvelous day!)💜💜💜💜

[bifaq]

Bisexual Media Masterpost

Someone sent us a message asking whether we know any media containing bi characters and I thought “hoo boy time for another masterpost.” So here it is. Add your rec + at least one sentence describing it in the reblogs or responses and I’ll update the post to include them! [these titles] are ones that don’t actually label characters as bi but where a character has relationships with people of more than one gender and isn’t really labelled otherwise. These are ones that have been suggested by our followers. 

TV Shows and Webseries

Brooklyn Nine-Nine - Police squad turned chosen family fighting crime and occasionally each other (in ridiculous bets). 

The 100 - Post-apocalyptic space society decides that for some reason, a bunch of teen delinquents are the best people to repopulate the earth. Except earth already has inhabitants. (cn: bury your gays, tragedy porn)

Black Mirror, specifically the episode San Junipero - Shy awkward gay lady meets bubbly bi lady for dancing, sex and technology-based hide-and-seek.

Orange is the New Black - BamBi discovers that being rich doesn’t (reliably) keep you from going to prison and that other people have real problems. 

How to get away with murder - Black bi law professor cannot believe what her students get themselves into. 

Orphan Black - Clones try to find out how many fucking roles Tatiana Maslany is capable of playing within the same plot. 

Lip Service - Scottish The L Word, which reminds me

The L Word - I really don’t know how to adequately describe this if you’ve never heard of it, please google it. 

Dear White People: A bunch of black college students have very different ideas about how to deal with on-campus racism.

Crazy Ex Girlfriend: Woman thinks moving to a new town to be close to her ex-boyfriend will cure depression, surprisingly finds that this is not the case. 

Couple-ish: Nonbinary bi artist and their lesbian (?) roommate have to fake a relationship for visa purposes. 

Greys Anatomy has a strong female bisexual main character called Callie Torres who is AMAZING but there is a lot of seasons of it

The O.C. - During the second season of this teen drama about a boy from a poor, troubled family being taken in by a wealthy family with problems of their own, a bisexual recurring character is introduced as a love interest for one of the main characters. [The Legend of Korra - Sequel to Avatar: The Last Airbender, follows teenage Avatar Korra as she tries to keep the world and herself in balance with some help from her friends and mentors. (Although the label bi is not used in the show, the creators released a statement explicitly using the word right after the finale aired and it may be in the sequel comics.)]

Shadowhunters - 18 year old girl finds out about her destiny of being a demon-fighting Shadowhunter and goes on a journey to find herself and defeat evil

Movies

[Cloudburst (2011) - adorable old sapphic ladies take a roadtrip to Canada so they can get married before their grandkid can put one of them in a home and split them up.]

[Margarita with a straw (2014) - Talented writer with cerebral palsy discovers that she deserves to be more than people’s token disabled girl, leaves behind unsatisfying boy crushes and (temporarily) her family to go to college in the states and fall in love with a blind lady.]

Brokeback Mountain (2005) - Bisexual shepherds get mistaken for gay cowboys. 

Appropriate Behavior (2014) - Confused twenty-something tries to reconcile being a model Iranian daughter with being a bisexual woman with a live-in girlfriend. (I’m pretty sure there’s some transphobic language, but unfortunately can’t recall the details.)

[When Night is Falling (1995): College professor is torn between boyfriend/colleague and local mysterious circus lady.]

3 (2010) - Midlife-crisis-y couple begins separate affairs with the same guy. (I’m not totally sure if this film is available in English, it’s originally German. It might be my favorite movie ever, though, and I strongly recommend you watch it if you ever have the chance.)

[Frida (2002) - A visually stunning biopic on bisexual painter Frida Kahlo. I recently learned that Salma Hayek was pressured by Harvey Weinstein to include a sex scene with another woman, and honestly don’t know how I feel about that. Not wanting to include a scene that confirms a historical figure’s bisexuality seems not super great, but forcing women to perform sex scenes for the voyeuristic enjoyment of gross dudes in power positions is super disgusting, so.]

RENT (2005) - Struggling artists do their best to (not) pay rent. Instead, they sing a lot (like people in musicals tend to do.)

Books (fiction)

The Second Mango (plus sequels), by @shiraglassman: Lesbian jewish Disney princess goes on magic quests, finds bi working class girlfriend and (platonic) bi royal consort/baby daddy along the way. Includes many more queer characters as well.

Rewriting the Ending, by hp tune: Sapphic broke-writer-meets-rich-heiress fluff. (cn: some unaddressed bi erasure on the part of one protagonist.)

Ex-wives of Dracula by Georgette Kaplan: Cheerleader and dorky girl-next-door develop a thirst for blood and for each other. (cn: grown man trying to hook up with high school girls.)

The Color Purple by Alice Walker: Woman gets mistreated by all the men in her life, realizes her husband’s mistress is the best thing in her life. (cn: domestic abuse & rape)

The Light of the World by Ellen Simpson: Local bi woman cannot believe that her grandmother was gay for another lady, enlists help of her friendly neighborhood historian to find out more. 

Orlando by Virginia Woolf: immortal person finds life is too long to settle for one gender (both identity- and attraction-wise).

[Temple of My Familiar by Alice Walker: A non-linear journey through the lives and thoughts and memories of several connected characters, includes a section featuring the women from The Color Purple.] [Otherbound by Corinne Duyvis: A fantasy in which a boy in our world can for unknown reasons see through the eyes of a bisexual, servant girl in other world every time he closes he eyes.] [Some Girls by Kristin McCloy - a woman in her twenties moves cross country to make a life for herself in NYC despite the wishes of her loved ones.]

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo 

Books (nonfiction)

When we rise: My life in the movement by Cleve Jones - A personal memoir of an activist of the Gay Liberation movement. Not focussed on bisexuality in any way, but good context I think for debates with people who think it makes sense to define our community by “who originally started it.” Spoiler alert: There was no one person or group and also language and identity evolve over time. 

Sapphistries: A global history of love between women by Leila J. Rupp - It’s an ambitious project to cover all of human history on the entire planet, but this is a pretty good attempt. Deals a lot with evolving identities and the difficulty of pinning labels on historical figures. 

Bi: Notes for a Bisexual Revolution by Shiri Eisner -  A radical look at bisexuality - its history, its power, and the responses it provokes in the world. Blessed Bi Spirit: Bisexual People of Faith edited by Debra Kolodny - A multifaith collection of essays by bisexual people of faith. Published in the 90s, so some of the language is dated but it still is very relevant to today. Some of Us Did Not Die: New and Selected Essays of June Jordan  -  A collection of new and selected essays spanning the entire career of bisexual activist and author, June Jordan. She writes on issues of gender, race, sexuality, violence, writing, politics, etc.

Podcasts

Queery: Cameron Esposito talks to queer people about their identities, feeling ok in your own skin, coming out, and more. (I especially loved the episode where she chats with Stephanie Beatriz who, you guessed it, is bi. There’s also one with Evan Rachel Wood Bisexual.)

The Bright Sessions: Therapy sessions for people with supernatural abilities. What could possibly go wrong?

Love

mod platypus

[huntertales]

Part One: It’s Bad Writing, But the Kids Love it. (Live Free or Twihard S06E05)

Episode Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader investigate a rash of disappearances involving teenage girls, which they soon discover the girls are being lured by a nest of vampires. During the hunt, Dean is turned into a vampire and is faced with deathly consequences if he can’t resist his temptation to feed his thirst for human blood. In his final hours, fiction becomes reality when Dean and the reader share a moment that feels straight of a vampire paperback. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 4,842.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

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There was nothing like a bunch of missing teenage girls to keep you and the Winchester brothers busy. It'd been a bit of a slow spell for all things evil and wicked since wrapping up your last hunt. It started off with three officers dropping dead of mysterious causes, only to uncover an angel, Balthazar, was selling parts of his Father's toys to minors so a child could seek vengeance on his brother. It was also the last time you saw Cas in almost over a year. He left without saying goodbye. And you were just fine with that. If he wanted to spend time with his siblings and fight like a bunch of brats, so be it. You had a world full of monsters that needed to be hunted down and a half dozen missing girls to be found before the worst could happen.

You walked with Sam down the quiet town street with all the missing people flyers you had gotten from the local police station. You looked up away from the smiling face of the most recent teenager to see the Impala come into view and Dean sitting on the hood, finishing his call that he said was important. If you had to take a wild guess, from the smile on his face, he was probably talking to Lisa. Normally the mention of the woman's name would make an ache slowly start to sit in your chest. But, after some time, you were starting to feel happy for Dean. He was getting everything he wanted. From the normal life to a supportive girlfriend, along with Ben, who he had viewed like a son. It was everything you could never give him. 

If anything good came out of Dean going to Lisa, you gotten your best friend back. You got to ride in Baby again with the older Winchester behind the wheel and his brother sitting in the passenger's seat, you hogging up all of the backseat as your own. That's what you'd been missing for the past year since coming back from the cage. Your real family and the Impala. What else did you need to be happy? Right now it was to hit the road and hunt some monsters. You shuffled all the papers together in a neat pile and approached Dean, a smile on your own stretched across your lips when he noticed that you and his brother were back. He quickly ended the call and shut the phone, you raised your brow in curiously to see what he was trying what was making his calm demeanor break from the smile that wanted to light up his face. "What are you so stoked about?" You teased the older Winchester as you gave him a wink from what you proposed. Dean pretended to be confused, mumbling something about how it was nothing. "You look like an unsupervised kid in a candy store. Got a hot date with Lisa? If so, Sam and I can take this. We'll meet up afterwards." "No, no. We got a case. I wanna work." Dean answered you a little too quickly, making you let out a chuckle. "What do you got?" You handed over the pile of flyers to Dean's awaiting hands so he could skim through the missing faces that all had the exact type of looks. Pretty, petite and young. "Six girls in seven days," You explained the pattern that caught your attention as he examined everything with a close eye. "Which is more disappearances than this city has seen in over a year—all about the same age." "And cute." Dean added. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, knowing he was going to say something like that. "Hey, ice cream comes in lots of flavors, sweetheart." "Yeah. And you've had about every single one on this planet. We've got half dozen girls who look almost exactly the same, late teens. Sounds like we got a pattern going here." You suspected. "Sam and I couldn't find anything they have in common. But I'm sure there is." "Well, six directions to go." Dean said, going through the papers to find all of the girls had been picked in different spots. "Hey, Sammy. Pick a number between one and six." "How about number seven." Sam suggested. "Another call came in today." Lucky number seven, you thought to yourself. You and the boys decided to start with the most recent missing girl to see if you could figure who was causing all these suspicious disappearances. And put a stop to it before someone else became a victim. + + + You and the boys made it into town a few hours later and decided to first stop at the house of Kristen, the most recent girl to have vanished. Her father was the one who greeted and welcomed the three of you inside after flashing your fake badges and saying you were FBI. You could see his daughter's disappearance was taking a personal toll on him from the lack of answers or leads the police could give him. She wasn't the type to runaway. A good girl who just vanished into thin air, no explanation to ease her father's anxiety-ridden mind. "Kristen's a good kid. A little naive, sure..." He trailed off for a second when he tried painting a picture of his daughter for the three of you to understand. You gave him a warm smile when you noticed his gaze went to your direction. "You try to be a good parent. Girls are hard." "That, they are." You agreed as you let out a quiet chuckle, showing him a bit of empathy for being a single dad. "We want to find your daughter much as you do. And in order to do that, would you mind if we took a look around her room? Just to get to know her a bit better. See if there's something the police might not have thought of to look at." Kristen's father fell silent for a moment. He looked over his shoulder and to the staircase that laid behind him. He let out a quiet sigh and turned his gaze back to the three of you to answer your request. "Last door on the left." You gave him another smile as you mumbled a thank you underneath your breath before you passed by him, following behind the brothers when they began making their way to the staircase after being granted permission. You made it halfway up before the three of you stopped, a little bit baffled at what Kristen's father had said. "What do you think he was talking about?" Dean wondered, you shrugged your shoulders. Kids were different with every generation that came by. Who knows what they did to get in trouble these days. "Drugs?" Sam guessed. All of you exchanged a glance before heading up to the top of the staircase and down the hall to the last door on the left, like Kristen's father said. Dean opened up the door and flicked on the light, half expecting to be blinded by shades of pink and all sorts of frilly things that teenage girls liked. But he stumbled upon a bedroom decor that made him feel taken aback. And even a little bit offended.   You let out a whistle when you stumbled upon the holy grail of everything goth and supernatural a girl Kristian’s age would have. The walls were painted a blood red and covered in posters—not of the latest bands and Hollywood heartthrobs—but the cast of those God awful vampire and werewolves movies you kept seeing everywhere. The entire place was covered in gothic and what might appear in a creature of the night’s bedroom. You looked over to the bed to see there was the same black and crimson red color scheme. Along with a few throw pillows that were of the character’s faces. You expected to see a copy of Dracula or Anner Rice around, but there was nothing but the modern telling of vampires that sparkled in the sun and was a complete dick to the female protagonist you were supposed to root for. It was complete and utter trash. But you’d be lying if you said you had picked up a copy out of pure curiosity.

Your eyes wandered to a poster across the room that was pinned in place. A young woman was standing between two men, who looked like they were attempting to appear frightened, stood between two men that were attempting to be broody and mysterious. To you, they looked like a bunch of actors failing miserably at their job to portray a certain emotion. But they must have been raking in millions by targeting a demographic that was the most dedicated of all them all, teenage girls. And it seemed It seemed Kristen was a mighty big fan of "My Summer Blood." You looked away from the poster and to Dean, who looked horrified at what he was surrounded with and couldn’t look away. “Oh, it is so much worse.” The older Winchester muttered, knowing he’d stumbled upon something that made him uncomfortable. Sam let out a scoff, taking a guess that Kristen wasn’t addicted to drugs, but vampires. “No, these aren’t vampires, man. These…” You shut the door behind you to give the three of you some privacy. Only you were greeted by the sight of a cardboard cutout of a pretty boy vampire. “These are douchebags.”

Lately the biggest trends among the younger crowd was supernatural monsters. But they weren't depicted in ways you remembered growing up where vampires were bloodsucking monsters and werewolves would rip your heart out. Nowadays they were being written as the love interest for pale, awkward girls and werewolves were your best friend that was secretly in love with you. You rolled your eyes from how very real and dangerous these creatures were. It's crappy writing, but the kids loved it. And the author was sure ranking in the money.

Sam looked around the room to find out where Kristen’s laptop would be hiding. He took a wild guess and headed for the unmade bed, throwing around her sheets to discover it was exactly where he suspected. You looked over your shoulder to see the girl’s laptop was red, big shocker, with stickers of bats and anything spooky. Sam headed for the desk and decided to see what he could discover about your missing girl. He hit the power on button, expecting to see the lock screen. The three of you were taken back from the female screams that came out of nowhere when Sam pulled up the home screen. Kristen’s background was of a vampire trying to make an intense face. You found yourself rolling your eyes in annoyance.

“That’s just,” Sam flinched at the face staring back at him. "Uncomfortable."

“What’s he so bummed about?” Dean muttered.

Sam decided to get started sneaking around the laptop and decided to go for the internet. Right away he found himself locked out, the computer demanded a password. What would a teenage girl use as her password? You crossed your arms over your chest and tried to think of a few possible theories. Dean averted his gaze away from the screen when he noticed a paperback sitting at the edge of the desk. He took a quick glance without much thought, but when he saw “My Summer Blood”, he immediately picked up the copy to take a look at it for himself. The man scoffed at seeing a teenage girl sleeping peacefully in bed, not realizing there was a boy lurking in the corner of her bedroom, watching her in her most vulnerable state.

"Look at this." Dean picked up the book off the bed and showed you, making you break your concentration away from the screen to see what was getting him so riled up. You looked up and saw his expression, causing you to let out a quiet laugh from how he was taking all of this in.  "He's watching her sleep. How is that not rapey?”

“I gotta concentrate, guys.” Sam said, hoping the both of you would stay quiet. Sam decided to see if Kristen was into the classic as he typed in Dracula. The computer rejected the try and let out a scream, making him think of another password.

“You can't believe there's a copy of 'Dracula' or '‘Salem's Lot' just lying around." You said, trying to be a little bit helpful to the younger Winchester. Sam looked up at you and gave you a look to keep quiet. "What? Try something a teenage girl would use."

Dean decided to see what this was all about by cracking open the book where Kristen had marked it, she made it halfway through before stopping. He skimmed the pages before he stumbled upon the scene the girl had stopped at. He scoffed at what kind of garbage he was reading. "'He could hear the blood rushing inside her, almost tasting it. He tried desperately to control himself. Romero knew their love was impossible.' Romero? Really?”

“Dean,” Sam looked over his shoulder from the lack of silence he was getting. “Shut up.”

"Come on, it's not that bad." You defended the author as you plucked the book out of Dean’s grip to skim the pages yourself before flipping through a few pages. "It's a national bestseller for a reason."

“Oh, God. Don’t tell me you read it.” Dean said. You shrugged your shoulders and held onto the book for safekeeping, curiosity making you steal the copy to read it in your freetime. "And here I thought you looked down at this kind of garbage.”

"Oh, please. I'll read anything I can get my hands on. I may have read a few pages while I was killing some time in a bookstore. Wanted to see what all the hype was about." You said. "Oh, Sammy. Try 'Lautner.' That may work."

Sam took your advice and typed in the password. Before he hit enter, he wondered how you had come up with the name off the top of your head. “Wait, he’s a werewolf.” Sam said. “How do you even know who that is?”

“Are you kidding me? That kid’s everywhere. It’s a freaking nightmare. And it’s gotta be him. Or the other one.” You mumbled. You looked over to see that Dean grabbed one of the pillows from the bed and grimaced at the sight of the familiar broody vampire staring back at him. A scream came from the laptop when it rejected your suggestion. “Try. Pattinson. That’s got to be it.”

Sam took your final suggestion and put it into the computer, expecting the laptop to give him that obnoxious scream again. Instead his hands jumped from the keyboard as a smile grew on the ends of his lips when he was finally granted access.

“That’s it. We’re in. Ha.” Sam clicked a few different links around what appeared to be a social media website and pulled up her inbox to see she had been active with a boy named Robert. You and Dean headed over to see what he found. “Well, her inbox is full from some guy claiming to be a vampire.”

“A real vampire?” You asked, all thought you doubt it was nothing more than a peophile trying to get creative in lurking out his victims.

“Well, ‘I can only meet you at night. I don’t trust myself with you. The call of your blood is too strong.’” Sam read off a few of the messages the boy had left for Kristen. You let out a scoff from how terrible it sounded, like it came straight out of the book. “Vampire fishing for victims?”

“Probably just a human mouth-breather, right?” Dean presumed.

“On the other hand—talk about easy prey.” Sam said, finding himself becoming a bit cynical when he began thinking about the platform monsters had nowadays to lurk out their victims. And there was a special group of impressionable teens that thought having someone suck their blood was what romance was all about. “I mean, these chicks are just throwing themselves at you. All you gotta do is...I dunno. Write bad poetry.”

"And they say chivalry is dead." You mumbled. You let out a quiet sigh from how an innocent girl might have put herself in trouble because she was so obsessed with a piece of literature and its fictional world, she couldn’t differentiate between reality and fiction. Sam pulled up one of the most recent messages and skimmed it, seeming to have discovered your next possible lead.

“Wow. This guy wanted to meet her at a place called The Black Rose.” Sam said. Dean rolled his eyes from how stupid the club had sounded. “Just reporting the news.”

“It’s probably just your standard-issue perv, right?” Dean wondered, all clues seeming to have pointed in that direction. You shrugged your shoulders as Sam shut the laptop. Whoever was in charge of kidnapping these girls, you knew for sure they were going to end up with their head chopped right off. It’d be one less monster on the street you had to deal with.

+ + +

It seemed you standard pervert might not have been the reason for all the missing girls. The next night during your second stay in town a van carrying blood donations was jumped. As if that wasn’t suspicious enough, the driver was attacked, his throat ripped out and drained of all his blood. If these vampires were luring out females, why did they need extra blood? You and the boys waited until late at night to scope out the Black Rose to see if you could find a vampire trying to lurk out its next prey. Most vampires acted like normal people, but this bar scene was one you weren't quite used to. Everyone in here was dressed in black and leather. You missed the dress code on this one, for sure.

“Well, you wanted emo chicks. I think we hit ground zero.” Dean said. The ambiance sure was the perfect spot for an underage girl to find her broody vampire that couldn’t control himself around her. You tapped your fingers against the bartop and waited patiently for the drinks you ordered a few minutes ago to arrive. The sounds of squeaky leather made you look up to see the waitress, who was wearing a little black dress, made entirely out of glossy leather, put down your drinks and ignored Dean when he said thank you to tend to her other customers. “Hey, Y/N. You think she wears all that rubber to the beach?”

"Oh God," You let out a quiet laugh from the thought as you brought the beer bottle to your lips to take a drink. "Imagine trying to get the sand out of that dress. And the tan lines.”

Dean looked down at his own drink for a moment before realizing how long it’d been since the three of you had done something like this. Sitting back, even if you were on a hunt, enjoying something so simple as a drink. “When was the last time we had a beer together, anyway?”

“There.” Sam changed the conversation when he found the couple that he’d been staring at start to act a little suspicious. You looked across the bar to see a young, brunette girl who looked quite similar to the rest talking to a boy who was getting awfully closer to her. You narrowed your eyes ever so slightly, watching the both of them ever so closely. “What do you think? He’s hitting on her hard enough. Real?”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to tell.” Dean admitted. His gaze was distracted when he saw yet another girl just a few feet from the couple. The other girl was laughing and talking to two men, making you wonder who was the predator here. “And we got multiple choices.”

“Okay. We take one. Shouldn’t be too hard.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. But you could soon cross one off the list when the boy talking to the girl turned away when another boy approached the bar and lightly tapped him on the shoulder to grab his attention. Your brow raised in a bit of surprise to see both of the men share a kiss, making you realize he sure wasn't the one you were looking for.  “Make that two of them. Better for us, anyway.”  

Sam looked to the first couple when he noticed the boy was making his move on the girl. He gave her a sly smirk and grabbed her hand, pulling her to the back. “One’s on the move.”

“All right. You and Y/N go with Efron.” Dean said, noticing the other guy you’d been observing was starting to make his way for the other side of the bar. “I got Bieber.”

You warned the Older Winchester to be safe as you slipped off the stool, parting ways with him as you followed behind the guy when you noticed he was going to the lower level of the bar. You looked over your shoulder in the crowd of people expecting Sam to be not that far behind, but you were alone. You looked back in front of you and quickly caught the guy making a turn to a room that wasn't the bathroom. You kept on trailing him until you found yourself in a more secluded part of the bar. Swallowing slightly, you pressed a hand against your jacket, feeling the machete close to you. Just in case things went south side. Inhaling a deep breath, you quietly pushed open the door and stepped inside, wondering if there was someone hiding around here. You noticed right away of the hanging light and how it was rocking back and forth, like someone turned it on and run for cover. Just the feeling of this place made you feel off. But you weren’t going to let some goth vampire scare you. Without any sort of backup, you stepped into the room, wondering if you could find the guy hiding anywhere. You didn’t hear the door slowly shut behind you as a dark shadow loomed in the corner, watching as you tried looking for him.

The vampire retracted his set of fangs as he started to approached closer to you, getting ready to take you by surprise. You felt someone’s fingers touch your shoulder, and before you could read for your weapon, he managed to catch you by surprise and push your backside to the metal shelves. You winced in slight pain, but before the vampire could make you his next victim, your hand slipped in your jacket in a final attempt to grab your machete. Someone beat you to it before you could save yourself. Suddenly you felt a splatter of blood cover your face and your upper body, catching you off guard.

Slowly, you opened your eyes to see that Sam was standing in front of you, the vampire’s dead body lying at your feet and his machete just a few inches from your face. If you had been any closer, if his aim had been off, you would have been his next victim.

"What the hell, Sam?" You hissed at him, quickly wiping away the blood off your face as he pulled his weapon away. You expected some sort of apology from him from the close call, or even vanishing, but he stood there with a calm look on his face. You could feel an uneasy feeling settled in you from the way he was acting. "Where'd you go?"

“I was around.” Sam said, shrugging his shoulders. You didn’t feel any better from his answer, and he could tell from how you furrowed your brow at him. “I’m here. Aren’t I?”

Yeah. Right when the vampire was getting ready to kill you. When he was so focused on you, he would have never suspected Sam to come out of nowhere. It was almost like Sam was using you as bait, luring the victim until he got exactly where he wanted and went in for the kill. Sam wouldn’t have done something like that to put you in danger. But lately, the old Sam was gone. You should have gotten used to his almost hollow personality. Yet, it only made you feel more on edge around him whenever you were hunting with him.

You looked down at your clothes to see that you were covered in the vampire’s blood from your head to your waist. You let out a frustrated sigh, knowing well enough you couldn’t walk out the front door without causing a few awkward stares. And you were surrounded by people who wore skin tight leather for an outfit and had piercings in all the wrong places. They knew something would be up once they caught sight of the blood splatter.

“Ugh, this is disgusting.” You muttered underneath your breath. Suddenly you were thankful that the motel the boys were staying at was all booked up, except for a double they shared. There was no way you were sharing a bed or crashing in the Impala. You had found another across town, just a few minutes from the bar. There was enough alleys to keep yourself hidden and make it back without causing suspicion. “Find Dean. See if he’s okay. I’m gonna head back to my room to take a shower.”

“Sure you don’t want some help with that?” Sam’s question made you stop dead in your tracks. You looked over your shoulder to give him a glare from the remark that was now paired with a smirk, knowing you set yourself up for that one. You weren’t the least bit amused from his sly comment. He didn’t seem bothered by your looks. “Make sure you don’t get caught.”

You mocked his warning as you waved your arm at him, throwing his concern as nothing more than sarcasm for him to have the last word. Sam watched as you headed out the back door and disappeared from sight. He knew if one vampire was around, another had to be here for sure.

The younger Winchester tucked the machete away for safekeeping and headed back upstairs to the bar area to see if his brother around. But all he saw was a sea of freaks. He decided to head to the back alley where Dean had saw the couple going. Sam found his way to the quiet alley and began observing the sight, making sure there weren’t any monsters that would take him by surprise. As he pulled out his machete, Sam stumbled upon a sight that would have made him panic any other day. When he had the ability to feel emotions.

Sam found himself stopping dead in his tracks and loosed his grip around the machete when he spotted his big brother pinned against a dumpster. He didn’t flinch, he didn’t try to stop it. Sam watched as the vampire holding his brother by the throat bite into his wrist to break the skin and get some blood. To change his brother into something they killed. Dean was rendered helpless. It was like watching someone taking a magnifying glass and putting it over an ant hill a sunny afternoon. Sam was fascinated at seeing his brother in such a fragile state. He had the power to save the man, but he chose not to.

Sam continued on watching. The vampire smeared the blood over Dean’s lips, just enough for the man to involuntary swallow ingest the slightest amount to turn him. Sam could feel his mouth twitch into just a little smirk. When he knew for sure his brother had got some of the blood in him, that’s when he took action.

He knew he could have easily taken down the vampire with a few simple swings, but Sam had a feeling the monster would come in handy later on. Sam had spent an entire year perfecting his mask of emotion. He charged forward and caught the vampire's attention, making Dean fall to the ground, leaving the two of them to fight. Sam made a few slashes with the machete, but the vampire easily blocked them, making him believe that the younger Winchester was a hunter with little skill. The vampire backed away, laughing to himself at his victory as he sarcastically waved before making his great escape by running away and climbing up the wall, disappearing from sight. .

Sam turned his gaze away from the top of the building and to his brother, who was lying on the ground. Blood was smeared all over his mouth as he panted, the beating he took earlier took a toll on him. And it’d only be a matter of time until he would start turning. Sam tried his hardest to look shocked and concerned at what happened to his brother. All while knowing he could have done something to stop it, but didn’t. And he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt for what he’d done.

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Personality Crisis: The Radical Fluidity of Todd Haynes’ ‘Velvet Goldmine’ by Judy Berman

[This month, Musings pays homage to Produced and Abandoned: The Best Films You’ve Never Seen, a review anthology from the National Society of Film Critics that championed studio orphans from the ‘70s and ‘80s. In the days before the Internet, young cinephiles like myself relied on reference books and anthologies to lead us to film we might not have discovered otherwise. Released in 1990, Produced and Abandoned was a foundational piece of work, introducing me to such wonders as Cutter’s Way, Lost in America, High Tide, Choose Me, Housekeeping, and Fat City. (You can find the full list of entries here.) Over the next four weeks, Musings will offer its own selection of tarnished gems, in the hope they’ll get a second look. Or, more likely, a first. —Scott Tobias, editor.]

Like the glam rockers it gazes upon through the smoke-clouded lens of memory, Velvet Goldmine is most beautiful when it descends into chaos.

Stolen, the way great artists do, from Citizen Kane, the skeleton of Todd Haynes’ 1998 film is a chain of interlocking reminiscences of Brian Slade (Jonathan Rhys Meyers), a David Bowie-like glam rocker who fakes his own onstage death in the mid-’70s. A decade later—in that most dystopic of years, 1984—his ex-wife Mandy (Toni Collette) and former manager Cecil (Michael Feast) relate their bitter tales of betrayal to a journalist (Christian Bale) whose assignment has him reluctantly reliving his own teenage sexual awakening under the influence of Brian’s music. Between the interviews, musical numbers, and onscreen epigrams, there’s also a mysterious female narrator who sometimes surfaces, like a teacher reading a subversive storybook, with dreamy exposition that reaches back a century to invoke glam’s patron saint, Oscar Wilde.

The film climaxes with a propulsive sequence of scenes that are exhilarating precisely because they merge all of these points of view, subjective and omniscient, into one collective fantasy. Brian and his new conquest, the Iggy Pop/Lou Reed composite Curt Wild (Ewan McGregor), ride mini spaceships at a carnival to Reed’s “Satellite of Love.” Two random schoolgirls, their faces obscured, act out a love scene between a Curt doll and a Brian doll. In a posh hotel lobby, Brian’s entourage, styled like Old Hollywood starlets on the Weimar Germany set of a fin-de-siècle period film, recites pilfered sound bites about art. Then Brian and Curt are kissing on a circus stage, surrounded by old men in suits. They play Brian Eno’s “Baby’s on Fire” as Haynes cuts between the performance, an orgy in their hotel suite, and Bale’s hapless, young Arthur Stuart masturbating over a newspaper photo of Brian fellating Curt’s guitar. Stripped of narration—not to mention narrative—the film seems to be running on its own amorous fumes, its story fragmenting into a heap of glittering images as it hurtles from set piece to set piece.

Visual pleasure aside, it’s a perfect way of translating into cinematic language the argument that underlies Haynes’ script—that glam’s revelations about the radical fluidity of human identity go far beyond sex and gender. As the apotheosis of teen pop audiences’ thirst for outsize personae, fictional characters like Ziggy Stardust (who Velvet Goldmine further fictionalizes as Slade’s alter ego, Maxwell Demon) melded the symbiotic identities of artist and fan into a single, tantalizing vision of hedonism and transgression. Kids imitated idols they didn’t quite recognize as pure manifestations of their own inchoate desires. Musician and fan became each other’s mirror, and both could become entirely new people simply by changing costumes or names.

But it’s pretty much impossible to imagine Velvet Goldmine’s distributor and co-producer, Harvey Weinstein, appreciating this as he watched the film for the first time—or seeing anything in it, really, besides an expensive mess.

Haynes and his loyal producing partner, Killer Films head Christine Vachon, had already been through hell with Velvet Goldmine by the time they delivered a cut to Miramax. Bowie had refused Haynes’ repeated requests for permission to use six Ziggy-era songs in the film, claiming that he had a glam movie of his own in the works. And in a production diary that appears in her book Shooting to Kill, Vachon points out one unique challenge of making a film about queer male sexuality: “The MPAA seems to have a number of double standards. Naked females get R ratings, but pickle shots tend to get NC-17s. Our Miramax contract obligates us to an R.” She also mentions that an investor pulled $1 million of funding just weeks before filming.

The shoot was even more harrowing than the two veteran indie filmmakers could’ve predicted. As they fell behind schedule, a production executive started nagging Vachon to make cuts. “Todd is miserable,” she wrote in her diary the night before they wrapped. “He says that making movies this way is awful and he doesn’t want to do it.” In an interview that accompanies the published screenplay for Velvet Goldmine, Oren Moverman asks Haynes, “Was the making of the film joyful for you?” “I’m afraid not,” he replies. “We were trying very hard to cut scenes while shooting, knowing that we were behind and we didn’t have the money for the overloaded schedule. But there was hardly a scene we could cut without losing essential narrative information.” It’s remarkable that he managed to capture 123 usable minutes’ worth of meticulously art-directed ‘70s excess (and ‘80s bleakness) in just nine weeks, under so much external pressure, on a budget of $7 million.

When the film finally reached Harvey Scissorhands, after months of editing, Weinstein told Haynes it was too long and the structure didn’t work. “He made suggestions that I didn’t follow, and then he just buried it,” the director told Down and Dirty Pictures author Peter Biskind. What happened next comes straight from the Weinstein playbook: “Even afterward,” Haynes remembered, “they threw out a DVD, they didn’t ask for a director commentary, my name wasn’t on the cover of it, it was buried in the minuscule billing block. He can’t even do the really small things that don’t cost anything—he never shows any respect.” (That Haynes never found a distributor he preferred to Weinstein, with whom he reunited for I’m Not There and Carol, speaks volumes about the way Hollywood treats ambitious filmmakers.)

After it failed to blow audiences away at the 1998 Cannes Film Festival, Miramax effectively dumped Velvet Goldmine. It debuted on just 85 screens that November, ultimately grossing about $1 million stateside. Its ridiculous theatrical trailer might well be a glimpse at the movie Weinstein was expecting: a “magical trip back to the ‘70s” with 100% more murder mystery and 100% less gay sex.

Critics were just as ambivalent about the film as festival audiences. While forward-thinking reviewers wanted to love it for its visual beauty and openly queer aesthetic, many lamented that its plot was slight and its characters hollow. David Ansen of Newsweek complained that “Haynes is unwilling to get too close to his characters. Slade, in particular, is a blank”—failing to see that Brian is a cypher by design. Like the Barbie-doll Karen Carpenter of Haynes’ debut feature, Superstar, and the fragments of Bob Dylan diffused across I’m Not There, Velvet Goldmine’s Bowie is less a portrait of the real person than a screen on which fans project their own fantasies about him.

At The Nation, Stuart Klawans rightly identified Arthur, not Brian, as the film’s protagonist. But he also wondered why he grows up to be such an unhappy adult. “Why is Haynes so tough on Arthur?” Klawans wanted to know. “Why, through the character, is he so tough on himself? It’s apparent everywhere in Velvet Goldmine that Haynes, like Arthur, loves Glitter Rock. He, too, fell for a mass-marketed product, which was no more likely than Mr. Clean to carry out a world-transforming promise. But instead of honoring the truth of his enthusiasm, so that he might look back on its object with a smile and a sigh…Haynes does penance for being a sap.”

Others found the film’s collage of ideas and allusions cumbersome. “Velvet Goldmine is weighed down with self-important messages, but it’s also splashily opulent,” Stephanie Zacharek wrote at Salon. “It’s as if Todd Haynes had plunged his hand into a pile of clothes at a jumble sale and come out with a handful that was half velvet finery, half polyester rejectables.”

All of these reactions make sense, coming from adult critics who had probably seen the film just once, after reading months’ worth of reports about its troubled birth, in the sterile environment of a press screening. But what’s clear from a distance of nearly two decades, during which Velvet Goldmine has become a low-key cult classic, is that few films are so poorly suited to be judged on the basis of a single dispassionate viewing. If you’re looking for tight plotting and complex characters, you’re not going to find them in this mixtape of music videos, aphorisms, and waking dream sequences. There is no actual murder mystery, and Arthur’s investigation into Slade’s disappearance isn’t a source of suspense so much as an excuse to keep contrasting an incandescent past with a dull, gray present.

I’m lucky enough to have first encountered Velvet Goldmine under what turned out to be ideal circumstances: at age 15, on premium cable, late enough at night that it easily bypassed my rational mind en route to my adolescent subconscious. I had no idea how many details it cribbed from the biographies of Bowie and his contemporaries, or how much of the dialogue was quoted from their (and their heroes’) most memorable utterances. I bought the soundtrack without realizing that it put ‘70s originals side-by-side with contemporary covers and new songs by younger bands like Pulp and Shudder to Think in yet another glam pastiche. It wouldn’t have occurred to me to find the 1984 scenes unsatisfying because I got so instantly immersed in the ‘70s spectacles that they barely existed for me.

Not that the film only works on an emotional level. Haynes’ ideas about fandom, politics, sexuality, and identity become even more profound once you can see the organizing principle behind what might initially seem like a jumble of indulgent images. Like the death hoax Brian Slade uses to escape a fantasy life that’s grown too real for comfort, Velvet Goldmine’s loose plot is classic misdirection, obscuring a tight and purposeful structure that delays the resolution of the ‘80s storyline until it’s primed you to feel the loss of the liberated ‘70s viscerally. But you’ll never get that far into dissecting the film if you don’t fall in love with it at first viewing. And that’s easiest to do when you’re as impressionable as young Arthur, who watches Brian Slade flaunt his queerness in a televised press conference and imagines himself shouting to his parents, “That is me!”  

Revisit it as you grow older, though, and you might discover that the disillusioned 30-something characters now feel as rich as their idealistic former selves. Velvet Goldmine is often called a gay film, but that obscures the universal resonance of its queer coming-of-age narrative. Better to think of it as a bisexual film that uses non-binary sexuality as a metaphor for the boundless possibilities of youth—the promise of a future constrained only by the limits of one’s own ambitions and appetites. Its characters can’t achieve permanent liberation by “coming out”; to maintain lifestyles that match their desires, they would have to reject the monogamy that defines adulthood for most people. Particularly amid the AIDS crisis of the 1980s, which haunts the film’s dreary present on a purely subtextual level, it’s obvious why they (like the real glam rockers they’re modeled after) retreat from the liberated lives they staked out for themselves.

But you don’t need to buy in to the incendiary claim Brian makes at his press conference, that everyone is bisexual, to see how this storyline reflects the many kinds of disappointments that await most starry-eyed fans in adulthood. Klawans’ objection to Haynes’ treatment of Arthur feels naive because it assumes people should be able to peacefully coexist with their shattered dreams. Why shouldn’t he feel bitter about having joined a sexual revolution that didn’t, finally, set him free? “It gets better” for Arthur when he leaves his homophobic family to move in with a latter-day glam act in London, but sometime after he hooks up with an unmoored Curt Wild at a tribute concert called the Death of Glitter, “it” just gets boring as the world gets worse.

And the world really does sometimes get worse, though audiences in the relatively peaceful, prosperous late ‘90s might have forgotten about that. Watching Velvet Goldmine for perhaps the 25th time, two weeks before Donald Trump’s inauguration, at the end of an era that has brought unprecedented freedom of sexual and gender expression, I was struck by how vividly Haynes captures a culture’s flight from progress, and how rare it is to see that kind of transition depicted on film. His argument about fluidity turns out to be even more potent when applied to societies than individuals (or, at least, it seems that way in 2017). Our capacity for transformation may be infinite, but that doesn’t mean those changes are always for the best.

[datinglove07-blog-blog-blog]

The 4 Step Plan to Talk to New People: Learn to Master the Conversation With this Guide

New Post has been published on https://onlinedatingloves.com/awesome/the-4-step-plan-to-talk-to-new-people-learn-to-master-the-conversation-with-this-guide/

The 4 Step Plan to Talk to New People: Learn to Master the Conversation With this Guide

If you find yourself unable to talk to new people, you’ve come to the right place!

Today we’re gonna teach you how to master a conversation, instead of staring at your feet hoping somebody else will come talk to you.

We’ll teach it in 4 easy steps :P TAGEND

Step 1: How to Make Small Talk- and Not Suck at It( Human Interaction ) Step 2: How Do You Talk to Random People( Thoughtful Small Talk ) Step 3: How Can I Be Good at Talking( Be Quirky ) Step 4: How Can I Be Fun to Talk To( In Defense of Being Imprecise ) How Do You Interact with Others( Start Talking )

By the end of today’s article, your friends will need a muzzle to shut you up.

Believe it or not, we really often work on “social skills” with our 1-on-1 NF Coaching. Many clients are bettering themselves to start dating again, so we work hard to help them level up all areas of their lives.

Click below to learn more, then head to the article to learn how to master a dialogue :P TAGEND

Step 1: How to Attain Small Talk- and Not Suck at It.( Human Interaction)

The main reason we human folk seek to connect with one another is that it scratches a social itching. Our social needs are just like hunger and thirst–we eat, drink, and talk to people because there’s a gap between our actual country( hungry/ thirsty/ lonely) and our ideal country( satiated/ slaked/ connected ). Your brain is saying, “Dude, mind helping me out a little? I’m not where I want to be.”

The whole idea here is to feel better after than we did before. You ever talk to people who are in a super sour mood? It’s kind of contagious, isn’t it? Unless you happen to be friends with people who can induce crankiness charming( such as professional comedians and/ or giant puppies woken up from deep slumber ), it’s usually a bit of a bummer. Let’s not be bummers! Let’s be those other various kinds of people, people who leave our conversational partners in good moods after they talk to us.

Engaging in happy small talk isn’t just good for the people we talk to, by the way–it helps us as well. “Fake it’ til you make it” is more than just a catchy rhyme. The idea that acting a certain way promotes us to be that way has been around since Aristotle’s time. Take a look at his quote( from over 2,300 years ago !):

“Men acquire a particular quality by constantly acting a particular way. We become merely by performing simply actions, temperate by performing temperate actions, brave by performing brave actions.”

Turns out the man knew what he was talking about. A team led by Fritz Strack presented in 1988 showed that simply holding a pen in your mouth in a way that simulates the muscle movements of smiling attains cartoons seem funnier than when you hold it between your lips like a straw; other studies have shown that merely traversing your arms can build you more persistent!

So the next time you’re feeling surly and looking forward to a change, challenge yourself to talk to someone in a more upbeat way and see if that helps shake it off.

I’m not suggesting you bop around like sunshine and fairy dust, but isn’t it powerful to be recognised that by simply chatting with another person in a positive way, you can walk away from the conversation with both you and them feeling better off?

( Feel free to give a little mental fist bump to Aristotle when you see how well this works .)

Step 2: How Do You Talk to Random People?( Thoughtful Small Talk)

Good small talk accommodates in real-time, thoughtfully and attentively is applicable for whatever is happening in the moment.

This may sound overwhelming at first, especially if you like to plan things to say out in advance. The trick is to take a step back and pick one thing, any thing, on which to focus your attention.

There’s a finite listing of what this thing will be:

Whether it’s sunny, rainy, or snowy, that’s weather. Whether it’s a street procession, an art exhibit, or a hot tub limousine driving by, that’s scenery. Whether it’s someone with crazy shoes, a guy doing back handsprings, or a woman swinging from a chandelier, that’s people. Whether it’s a cute newborn, a fluffy puppy, or a cool book, that’s belongings.

See how all of a sudden you can imagine having one or two prepared responses that can still perfectly apply to even the most novel of situations?

Now, this may merely get you as far as your first or second line within a conversation, after which you may need to start coming up with stuff in the moment. But the same logic of “step back/ pick one thing” applies here too, and will help you keep from getting overwhelmed or panicking about what to say.

Here’s an example :P TAGEND

You: “I guess I literally saw a cat and a dog raining down from the sky today.”

Them: “Ha! I know, right? I thought it was supposed to be spring.”

You: “It must be really tough to be a weatherman. You’re either stating the obvious or you’re a liar.”

Them: “My cousin is a weatherman.”

Curveball! You haven’t prepared anything about weatherman cousins! But this is interesting and fiction enough to justify a conversational tangent all its own( and could fall under the category of jobs, if you wanted to add it to your earlier list ). Try a simple question.

You: “Oh, interesting. How’d he or she get into that? ”

Before you know it, you’re having a unique dialogue , not banal “small talk”. You’re also learning things about your conversational partner( and they about you ), which will help you build from one-off conversations with strangers to consistent friendships and relationships with people.

Challenge yourself to identify these “one things”( climate, books, back handsprings) as you’re out interacting with people. Use the consolation of a prepared line to open with if you like, but with the goal of finding something interesting that’s happening in that moment to comment on. Your conversations will instantaneously be more thoughtful, and the people you’re talking to will feel it, too.

Step 3: How Can I Be Good at Talking?( Be Quirky)

My cousin Kim met my fiance for the first time a few months ago. As soon as we all sat down, she said to him, “Tell me every single thing about yourself, starting from birth, and aiming with right now.”

I thought it was just about the greatest thing I’ve ever heard.

If my friend Jess is at someone’s house for the first time, she’ll say, “If I were the bathroom, where would I be? ”

She gets the answer- and a chuckle.

My friend David struck up a dialogue with a cute daughter in Jiffy Lube by asking her if she thought the guy in the waiting room looked like a beagle.

He called me to thank me for introducing him to his girlfriend.

These instances all have in common the theme of turning awkwardness into awesomeness. They’re about being confident , not being smooth. Sometimes dialing up the awkward dial can be just what everyone needs to loosen up a little, like when my friend Mike starts his presentations at work by saying, “If I seem unbelievably nervous, it’s because I am indeed incredibly nervous.” It’s a bold strategy, must be ensured, but it can be incredibly refreshing.

There’s something undeniably fun about someone who says, “I’m staggeringly overcaffeinated right now, so I may pass out at some phase. How was your weekend? ”

In short, don’t feel pressure to rigidly adhere to some abstract notion of what small talk should be, losing all of your own delightful personality in the process. You’re a member of the Rebellion, after all!

You challenge conventional wisdom and embrace the weird every day- let small talk be no exception.

Step 4: How Can I Be Fun to Talk To?( In Defense of Being Imprecise)

Remembering the little things? Sweet. Remembering every little thing? Creepy.

I happen to be in possession of a frighteningly good memory; I remember specific dialogues( as well as where they took place, and what we were wearing) with people who couldn’t pick me out of a lineup. I’m perfectly the person who goes up to people and says, “You’re a chiropractor? We sat next to each other on a plane from L.A. to San Francisco about a year ago, right? ” Yes, right … but it didn’t matter. The dude was exhaustively creeped out, and I couldn’t blame him!

I’ve had to learn to hold back a little( okay, a lot) and not spew forth with every single thing I recollect about my last dialogue with person the next time I assure them.

Instead of saying:

“Hey, how was that conference you went to in Phoenix? ” go with, “You were going out of town when I saw you last, right?

“Is your upper left molar feeling any better? ” go with, “Hey, how’s it going? ”

Like a good hairstyle or pocket square, it sometimes takes a bit of attempt in conversation to make it seem effortless, but it’s far preferable to freaking people out. Take your time. With each dialogue, you’re watering a healthy plant , not dousing a fire.

In fact, leaving a bit unsaid is probably the best way to ensure future conversations, and give you something to talk about next time! Besides, when you’re imprecise, you let the other person to narrow in on a topic that they are comfy with, rather than forcing them to talk about their upper left molar!

How Do You Treated with Others?( Start Talkin’)

With these four keys in intellect, you’re ready to start small talkin’.

Challenge yourself to approach one person a day and strike up a dialogue, even if it’s brief.

Like everything else we do in life, good social abilities can be learned, developed, honed, and improved. Though, it’s really tough to practice unless you commit to TRYING it out. And who cares if those discussions runs poorly? Failure is awesome. Odds are you will NEVER see that person again in your life, and your life is no different now than it was 5 minutes before the conversation.

Of course the opposite could be true: you were able to satisfy somebody awesome.

And there’s only one way to find out which outcome you’re gonna get.

If you’re feeling actually rusty, give it a shot with a friend or family member and ask for a little feedback afterward. If you’re feeling bold, approach someone you wouldn’t usually talk to. If you draw a blank, ask a question.

Breathe, smile, listen.

Most of all, recollect why you’re doing this, and remind yourself that you’re not imposing on someone by having a pleasant conversation with them–you’re making their day a bit brighter, and you are able to never be made to feel bad about that.

As always, I’m very interested to hear what you think, and how these lessons feel when you take them out for a spin.

We all crave regular social interaction; you might be surprised by how easy being good at small talk really is!

What are your major hangups with small talk?

Where do you plan to give these tricks a try?

-Lindsay Miller( good friend of Steve, and the Relationship& Social Skills expert of Nerd Fitness !)

PS: Like developing your social skills, getting healthy can be really intimidating, which is why we’ve constructed services and products to assist you in overcome the chaos and are certain in the actions you’re taking every day :P TAGEND

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photo source: lego small talk, happy, thoughtful, imprecise, quirky, storm trooper

Read more: nerdfitness.com

[lx-5point0-blog]

INTEL ENEMY TACTICS

I believe GREATFULfoundation is mimicking CoS psychoterror tactics of ETHICS IN FAIR GAME DOCTRINE. I read DYANETICS in '91. LRon Hubbard is approved. INTEL ON ENEMY TACTICS : What is Scientology? An un American mind fuck bullshit murderous pieces of shit asshole that lie to use the legal system for greed and false righteousness. A Scott if book from el Ron Hubbard, a tax evading psychopath who wrote Dyanetics on a beer bar bet that he cannot invent a religion. HATS http://suppressiveperson.org/1966/03/01/hcopl-the-guardian/ GUARDIAN http://suppressiveperson.org/documents/cult-intelligence-material/go-intelligence-course/ TECHNIQUES USED TO SHATTER SP SUPPRESSIVE PERSON http://suppressiveperson.org/1965/04/05/hcopl-handling-the-suppressive-person-the-basis-of-insanity/ http://suppressiveperson.org/1966/09/27/hcopl-the-antisocial-personality-the-anti-scientologist/ NOISY INVESTIGATION, how to http://suppressiveperson.org/1966/09/05/hco-info-ltr-how-to-do-a-noisy-investigation/ ENEMY http://suppressiveperson.org/1987/12/10/osa-nw-order-enemy-action/ GOOD NEWS- declaring war http://suppressiveperson.org/1987/12/10/osa-nw-order-enemy-action/ Psychosis http://suppressiveperson.org/1970/11/28/hcob-psychosis/ "What criminal activity has ever sounded SANE Jeff Stone/ FAUSTO and Scientology http://www.webquake.net/ocmb/viewtopic.php?t=303847 Jeff Stone scrubbed internet https://whyweprotest.net/threads/jeff-stone-has-had-the-internet-scrubbed-of-884-connections.119526/ Scientology gave Jeff Stone $50k http://www.forum.exscn.net/showthread.php?23531-Scientologists-gave-50-000-to-Jeff-Stone-s-2010-California-senate-campaign FAUSTO Schwartzennegger http://www.ocweekly.com/news/six-degrees-of-schwarzenegger-6379096 "In 23 years of practice, I don't believe I've ever heard a more incredible story than what I heard from Mr. Atilano during his deposition," said William Chapman, Bostick's Santa Ana-based attorney. "I believe I started laughing out loud. I know I at least had a smirk on my face because I couldn't believe what was coming out of his mouth. You could almost make a list of all these coincidences and ask if it's all real." Chapman says the photographs of Bostick, the tape recordings and Atilano's offer to give them to Nalley while he was being sued are evidence that the botched raid was no accident. "What's most offensive is that Mr. Atilano has testified under oath that my client stood up and opened the door," Chapman said. "Mr. Bostick is an amazing individual and works out as much as he can to build up what's left of his body. But to say he stood up and answered the door is to say he's faking the whole injury. That is offensive to me, and I believe it would be offensive to most people, including a jury." Scientology Psycho-Terror http://suppressiveperson.org/1966/09/27/hcopl-the-antisocial-personality-the-anti-scientologist/ http://suppressiveperson.org/1966/09/05/hco-info-ltr-how-to-do-a-noisy-investigation/ http://suppressiveperson.org/1987/12/10/osa-nw-order-enemy-action/ http://suppressiveperson.org/1969/01/01/lrh-ed-good-news/ http://suppressiveperson.org/1970/11/28/hcob-psychosis/ http://suppressiveperson.org/1970/09/22/hcopl-hats/ https://www.justice.gov/crt/how-file-complaint Due Process is Dead: A Staggering 95% of All Inmates in America Have Never Received a Trial: http://thefreethoughtproject.com/due-process-dead-staggering-95-inmates-america-received-trial/ http://steeringlaw.com/orange-county-police-misconduct-attorney/ FALSE ARREST CASES – DON’T CALL THE COPS UNLESS YOU WANT SOMEONE AT LEAST IN JAIL, OR VERY POSSIBLY DEAD All of use have broken some sort of law, but most of us don’t go around holding-up liquor stores. The odds are, that if you are inquiring about a police misconduct case, such as a false arrest case, that you fall into three basic categories of ways that the police came into contact with you, and then falsely arrested you, or worse. The Invisible Force Identifying the enemy at hand is an essential part of attacking it in your defense. It is crucial in determining the beginning and the end of the war. BSince a formal surrender will be difficult to determine, J D stays on eliteness awareness and early detection-ism and counter-psycho el Rationale’. Definition: Everyone is the enemy until deemed otherwise with Drivers instant application of the 1k true or false exam on the greatest sport in the world, FOOTBALL. But, for this specific combatant, the ECCLESIASTICAL violent mis-justice RELIGIOUS ORGANIZATION, Scientology, Driver will implement the exam of the Sweet Science K- O questionnaire, Boxing. He feels that if they can tell how many punches were thrown by Sugar Ray Leonard in the 15th round of the Marvelous Marvin Haglar boxing fight, he will then be able to trust that individual . SCIENTOLOGY SCRIPTURESl MAY BE ILLEGAL AND SEDITIOUS A. THE CHURCH OF SCIENTOLOGY IS AN AMERICAN TOTALITARIAN GROUP ENGAGED IN INTERNATIONAL PSYCHO-TERRORISM Many of Scientology’s copyrighted scriptures may also encourage unlawful conduct and be a threat to democracy, as the German government has so deemed. For example, in PR Series 18 Church of Scientology staffers are directed to invent whatever they wish to allege. Significantly, as recently as October 9, 2001, the Moxon & Kobrin law office wrote to a Netherlands resident threatening to enforce the Church of Scientology’s copyrights in connection with the very terms “Dead Agenting” and “Targets Defense” activities used by Moxon & Kobrin in their “investigations” and “handling” of critics such as Mr. Henson. The seditious contents of the “Targets Defense” document that the Moxon & Kobrin October 9, 2001, letter refers to include the “vital targets” of, “T1 Depopularizing the enemy to a point of total obliteration; T2 Taking over the control or allegiance of the heads or the proprietors of all news media; T3 Taking over the control or allegiance of key political figures; T4 Taking over the control or allegiance of those who monitor international finance and shifting them to a less precarious finance standard.” emphasis added Another Church of Scientology written policy directs Scientology lawyers to use the courts to harass and ruin people rather than to win. “The purpose of the law suit is to harass and discourage rather than to win. The law can be used very easily to harass, and enough harassment on somebody who is simply on the thin edge anyway…would generally be sufficient to cause his professional decease. If possible, of course, ruin utterly.” emphasis added “The DEFENSE of anything is UNTENABLE. The only way to defend anything is to attack … it is an entirely moral duty to be punitive against outsiders who would stop the progress of this [Scientology] civilization.” emphasis added. “Now get this as a technical fact, not a hopeful idea. Every time we have investigated the background of a critic of Scientology, we have found crimes for which that person or group could be imprisoned under existing law. We do not find critics of Scientology who do not have criminal pasts. Over and over we prove this. Politician A stands up on his hind legs in Parliament and brays for a condemnation of Scientology. When we look him over we find crimes-embezzled funds, moral lapses, a thirst for young boys - sordid stuff … We are slowly teaching the unholy a lesson. It is as follows: we are not a law enforcement agency but WE WILL BECOME INTERESTED IN THE CRIMES OF PEOPLE WHO SEEK TO STOP US. IF YOU OPPOSE SCIENTOLOGY WE PROMPTLY LOOK UP- AND WILL FIND AND EXPOSE -YOUR CRIMES. IF YOU LEAVE US ALONE WE WILL LEAVE YOU ALONE. IT’S VERY SIMPLE. EVEN A FOOL CAN GRASP THAT. AND DON’T UNDERESTIMATE OUR ABILITY TO CARRY IT OUT … THOSE WHO TRY TO MAKE OUR LIFE HARD FOR US ARE AT ONCE AT RISK.” emphasis added. “People attack Scientology: I never forget it, always even the score …overt investigation of someone or something attacking us by an outside detective agency should be done more often and hang the expense … Hire them and damn the costs when you need to…the critic will sure shudder into silence … [Scientology] punishment is gruesome to see sometimes and in this instance there are people hiding in terror on Earth because they attacked us. There are men dead because they attacked us - for instance Dr. Joe Winter. There are men bankrupt because they attacked us - Purcell, Ridgeway, Seppos.” emphasis added. There is a scientology scripture that can be loosely interpreted as explaining that the criminal accuses others of what the criminal is guilty of himself. Consequently, it is a cruel irony that the Scientology organization, that is deemed to be a totalitarian para-military psycho-terror group by Germany and some other European governments, should accuse Mr. Henson of terrorizing shills for that very same organization. “Somebody some day will say ‘this is illegal.’ By then be sure [the Churches of Scientology] say what is legal or not.” Hubbard Communications Office Policy Letter 4 Jan. 1966. Graham E. Berry, Esq. Attorney at Law 3384 McLaughlin Avenue Los Angeles, CA 90066 Telephone: (310) 745-3771 Email: grahamberry@ca.rr.com or grahameb@aol.com Hubbard's 1981 booklet, The Way to Happiness, is an integral part of the program, setting forth precepts such as "Do not take harmful drugs", "Be faithful to your sexual partner", "Do not tell harmful lies", "Don't do anything illegal", "Do not steal", and "Do not murder". The Church of Scientology, which the late science fiction writer L. Ron Hubbard founded in 1952, has experienced more than its share of criticism along the way. But criticism has escalated in recent years. All of these works paint a disturbing picture of the organization, which has been accused of everything from forced child labor to coercive mind control to breaking up families. The Church of Scientology does not take criticism lightly: Hubbard (who died in 1986 at the age of 74) instituted a policy called “attack the attacker,” which means that those who criticize Scientology are to be defamed, maligned and harassed as vehemently as possible. Scientology,” left the cult in 2007, and from 2008 on, he has been asserting that Scientology harms members psychologically by convincing them their lives are meaningless without it. Scientology, Beghe has stressed, is great at breaking up families. He bluntly described how “dirty and underhanded” the Church of Scientology can be when, according to journalist Tony Ortega, he asserted, “They say they’re not a turn-the-other-cheek religion. No, they’re a knock-you-down-and-kick-you-in-the-balls religion.” DeVocht alleges that he has been under constant surveillance by the cult since leaving and has described Miscavige as a tyrant. TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN (Privileged publication under California Civil Code section 47) The purpose of the [law] suit is to harass and discourage rather than to win. The law can be used very easily to harass, and enough harassment on somebody who is simply on the thin edge anyway … will generally be sufficient to cause his professional decease. If possible, ruin him utterly.” The Scientologist: A Manual on the Dissemination of Material (1955). pending. The mysterious deaths of Lisa McPherson, and other Scientologists, fueled media scrutiny, demonstrations and picketing. “Scientology Kills” became a picketing slogan. Angered by Church of Scientology harassment against him, his family and friends, and the church’s “noisy investigation” tactics, Mr. Henson participated in some of the pickets of Scientology premises. Scientology then moved to put his “head on a pike.” On May 21, 1997, it obtained an ex parte restraining order against Mr. Henson in Riverside County . These proceedings, which can be referred to as Henson II, were never served upon Mr. Henson who continued to join pickets, and to be a lonely picketer himself, in front of Scientology and its armed compound and base near Hemet, California.” Hoden v. Henson, Riverside County Superior Court RIC 306884, Trial Brief, February 20, 1998. “On November 1, 1997, Mr. Henson, with a companion as a witness, peacefully picketed on public property near Scientology buildings. As the video-tape evidence demonstrates, this required constant vigilance because of continual attempts by Rev. Glenn Barton to ambush Mr. Henson by “popping out” of entrances of Scientology buildings, walking around the block to meet Mr. Henson and even hiding behind bushes, in an attempt to use the court’s stipulated order as a sword instead of its intended shield. Picketing at the Shrine auditorium, Rev. Barton, who is also an L.A.P.D. chaplain, made a citizen’s arrest of Mr. Henson and he was turned over to the Los Angeles Police Department, charged with violating a restraining order [a misdemeanor violation], taken into custody, imprisoned and later released on bail.” Hoden v. Henson, Riverside County Superior Court RIC 306884, Trial Brief, February 20, 1998. “On November 26, 1997, Mr. Henson appeared for his arraignment on the criminal charge (Henson IV) arising from his arrest by [Scientology Rev.] Mr. Barton. Following the arraignment, Mr. Henson went to Hollywood and picketed the Scientology management high rise office building at the corner of Hollywood and Ivar where he was approached by Scientology attorney Elliot Abelson, Esq. on behalf of the Church of Scientology. Mr. Henson then left and picketed another Scientology building at 6700 Hollywood Boulevard. Twenty minutes later, Mr. Barton arrived with Elliot Abelson, Esq., and several private investigators. Mr. Henson retreated to allow Mr. Barton to enter [the building]. However, Mr. Barton pursued Mr. Henson and one of the Scientology private investigators (Edwin Richardson) placed Mr. Henson under citizen’s arrest, again alleging that the court’s order [issued by Judge Bascue] applied at times Mr. Barton was not clearly entering or leaving buildings but actually pursuing Mr. Henson. When Mr. Henson said that was absurd and started to leave, he was jumped from behind, choked to near unconsciousness, his video camera and picket sign knocked to the ground, his car keys wrenched from his hand and investigator Richardson’s elbow shoved in his mouth. [Rev.] Mr. Barton and Elliot Abelson, Esq. then summoned the L.A.P.D., who again arrested Mr. Henson for violating the restraining order and committing a battery upon the investigator who jumped him. He was taken into police custody, incarcerated for a second time and subsequently released on bail.” Hoden v. Henson, Riverside County Superior Court RIC 306884, Trial Brief, February 20, 1998. the case was eventually dismissed by the prosecution. It is understood that following these two incidents (Henson IV and Henson V) Scientology Rev. Barton was discharged, or expelled, as a Los Angeles Police Department chaplain. On January 14, 1998, Ken Hoden obtained an ex parte restraining order prohibiting Mr. Henson from approaching within 500 yards of the Church of Scientology International’s desert base at Hemet. Not only could Mr. Henson not bring his message to his chosen audience, but he could not even use the public highways near his chosen audience. Five hundred yards is the equivalent of five football fields or seven New York City blocks. Mr. Henson [believed] that he [needed] to address Scientologists directly because they are the victims of brainwashing, blackmail, coercive indoctrination and a cult environment. Mr. [Rev.] Hoden’s ex parte restraining order was obtained with a supporting declaration of Scientology attorney Kendrick L. Moxon, Esq. Mr. Moxon’s supporting declaration was full of … specific perjurious allegations intended to materially mislead the court into granting an unconstitutional temporary restraining order.” Hoden v. Henson, Riverside County Superior Court Scientology private investigators also paid visits to the school premises of Mr. Henson’s daughter and caused both Mr. and Mrs. Henson to lose employment and to have employment problems. Incidentally, one of Scientology’s ‘dirty tricks’ was to cause police officers to be sent to his daughter Amber’s high school where she would be hauled out of class and questioned as to whether Mr. Henson had ever sexually molested his daughter. These events are consistent with the Church of Scientology’s copyrighted policies and practices for handling "suppressive persons," otherwise known as the “Fair Game Policy.” The propaganda called Keith a ‘full-time hater,’ Mr. Henson was picketing peacefully on the evening of July 19, 2000 when Riverside Deputy Sheriff Rowe arrived and arrested him. However, he was unarrested after Ken Hoden, the complainant, refused to sign the sheriff’s incident report under penalty of perjury. This was an irony because one of Scientology’s scriptures teaches that “the only way to control some-one is to lie to them.” They harassed neighbors and sent their private investigators to sit in their cars in front of neighbors’ houses and occupy precious parking spaces. They would post and distribute nasty flyers showing Mr. Henson in hand-cuffs (due to one of their contrived arrests) and labeling him as a child-molester; wrongly implying that Mr. Henson had actually been arrested as a child molester. They would ‘tail’ Mr. Henson and Arel Lucas where-ever they went. The Scientologists and their PIs would follow and photograph Mr. Henson’s teenage daughter Amber as she went about her business. On August 10, 2000 the Church of Scientology’s campaign against Keith Henson intersected with their concurrent use of blackmail, bribery, perjury and corruption against Los Angeles attorney Graham E. Berry. Meanwhile, the Office of Special Affairs was trying to engineer an unnoticed arraignment of Mr. Henson. A no show would mean no bail. It was set for September 15, 2000 on the crime of misdemeanor terrorism. It would later transpire that the court did not mail the notice to appear at the September 15, 2002 arraignment and a judge even signed an arrest warrant for his non-appearance prior to September 15, 2000. . ------ “Keith Henson, a 5’9” tall, gray grandfather, [was] a Silicon Valley computer engineer. He [was] engaged in the research and development of computer hardware and software. As such, he is also a Netizen. On November 1, 1995, he saw wrong and has been since trying to right it. He observed the awesome might of the Scientology litigation juggernaught, engaged in its abhorrent anti-social Blitzkriegs and totalitarian objectives. He read of the frightening force of the cruel Scientology litigation monster, using perjury and deception, to persuade three federal judges to issue ex parte orders to raid and ransack the homes of its critics, to seize and strip their computers and to improperly take the computers, and the contents of those computers, into their own custody for review, analysis and, as it turned out, substantial destruction and damage. … Along with millions of people who had been outraged at such blatant abuse of the American legal system, Mr. Henson examined this so-called Church of Scientology which had previously been of no interest to him. He discovered a mafia-like international commercial enterprise maintaining the post-founding pretense of religiosity in order to operate tax-free in countries where it was uconvenient to do so.” Hoden v. Henson, Riverside County Superior Court RIC 306884, Trial Brief, February 20, 1998. He ruled that “Fair Game” had been cancelled in 1968 and refused to receive briefing on how the policy was cancelled in name only and had continued through other recently-renewed copyrighted policies and practices dealing with such things as the "handling of Suppressive Persons" and other attacks and threats to Scientology. In fact, the 1968 Hubbard document canceling Fair Game expressly states that the cancellation “does not cancel any policy on the treatment or handling of an SP” [a “Suppressive Person” or enemy of Scientology]. Furthermore, numerous U.S. federal and state court cases decided in the 1970s through the 1990s expressly held that the “Fair Game policy” and practices were still being applied by the Church of Scientology against its perceived enemies, and they permitted evidence and jury consideration of the resulting defense or motives of the Scientology enterprises. Despite these precedents, the Scientology lawyers have prevailed upon each of the judges, in the Henson cases, to exclude any mention of the vicious Scientology “Fair Game” and ‘Suppressive Person” policies of retribution and destruction. Scientology’s campaigns to “utterly destroy” those who criticize or oppose it are funded by the International Association of Scientologists (the “IAS”). The contributions to these Scientology campaigns to use the legal system to sue and destroy all that oppose it are exempt from income tax in the United States. The actor Tom Cruise is the biggest single contributor to these campaigns of personal destruction. He has donated many millions of dollars to the IAS. [See generally, the Enquete Commission Report, p.243.] “The Scientology Organization uses an internationally operating secret service that is well versed in the art of psychological warfare [or psycho-terror].” The Enquete Commission Report, p. 246, fn.298. B. SCIENTOLOGY’S INTERNATIONAL PYSCHO-TERRORISM IS A TRANSNATIONAL PROBLEM The Scientology Organization is double-faced, especially in the United States: the light side, a socially adapted façade of Hollywood celebrities, glamour and wealth; and the dark side, a totalitarian structure internally, with exploitation of members and massive threats, persecution and intimidation of dissenters. … Scientology was exploiting the American legal system in an endeavour to overwhelm its critics with an avalanche of deliberately engineered law suits to silence them with the threat of financial ruin; for in the United States, all litigants have to meet their own costs even if they win. There are not many lawyers in the United States who are prepared to work against the organization for fear of the possible consequences. There was no government aid for the victims.” Final Report of the Enquete Commission on “So-called Sects and Psycho groups,” The psycho-terror activities of the Scientology Organization frequently and concurrently target individual critics in different countries. These litigation and extra-litigation weapons often improperly strain and subvert the judicial and legal systems of a number of nations without any of them being aware, or willing to admit, that a tax-exempt American church is misusing the public courts and law enforcement for anti-social and totalitarian purposes. Keith Henson, the subject of this memorandum, is a victim of Scientology’s ‘War against the Internet.’ Keith Henson is now a high security inmate at the County jail in Riverside California. He is serving time after a jury trial for ‘interfering with a religion’ and misdemeanor terrorism. His crime: standing outside the armed Scientology international headquarters compound (on Highway 79 near Hemet, California) while carrying a picket sign. Scientologists pay many hundreds of thousands of dollars to move up the Scientology ‘Bridge to Total Freedom’ which include ‘Operating Thetan’ or OT Levels I-VIII (the ‘OT levels’). The OT levels are copyrighted and secret within the church, until the requisite monies have been paid for their study. For example, to reach the level of OT III costs approx. $300,000.00. Until 1993 Scientology’s lawyers had been largely successful in stamping out any publication of the OT levels by claiming they were not only copyrighted but were also trade secrets. Scientology were unable to sue Time magazine and the Washington post. Scientology unsuccessfully sued the Washington Post for publishing the story of Xenu; the evil intergalactic overlord and antagonist of all Scientologists, whether they know it or not. “Scientologists believe that most human problems can be traced to lingering spirits of an extraterrestrial people massacred by their ruler, Xenu, over 75 million years ago. These spirits attach themselves by “clusters” to individuals in the contemporary world, causing spiritual harm and negatively influencing the lives of their hosts.” The Cynics, have been inoculated, with a pathogenic theton, nano, bio mech, synthetic coffee filtering, mesh -like uniform. It is a standard, ecclesiastical , sexual fantasy suit-uniform, in the troop ranks of the soldiering racists. The visual camouflage diffuses the ability of the target to focus of the size , big or small, of the member, that is approaching the anus of the target, or the Mark of the anus of the target, or the target mark of the anus, and ,,, creating a ferocious "wolf -dick- daggar," the most dangerous thing in the world. ,,,Even more dangerous than using a q -tip inside the ear canal., while brushing your teeth. Scientology corporation and it is responsible for protecting Scientology’s intellectual properties such as copyrights, trademarks and trade secrets. As shit is getting hairy and hitting the fan, all around Driver, he is washing his car… again. Because he is in love and loyal to the Pooper, Driver will not trade it or rent another car for sorties of retribution. He is in charge of the words now. The volcabulary. I know, it's scary. Since the Riverbank Sheriff didn't want to give Penelope's copy of the 9-1-1 call log by MAD DOG, and the court reporter is delaying the transmission and delivery of the transcript fro the real crime. The real crime is the obtaining a restraining Order with a purgury supplemental paper. That corrupt commissioner, after research team discover the Church of Silence and Monopoly, had been sending squads of harassment psycho terror cliques of elite criminal and law prosecuting criminal lawyers to obtain Ex parte’ orders. The team has a long list of articles that will show the the Badlands is incapable of defending against the juggernaut law teams of the church, and he would need to applyo to regain his civil rights as a citizen of Happy Beach and the Orange Bang County where he is from. The internet HATE machine is publishing proposition order 69 By senator Get Stoned ,John Driver from a daily car wash to a wash every other day due to the drought. Claiming ,”His whip isn't even as clean as it should , I mean, has he worn the paint off that thing yet? He can't fight… frank Shamrock I think, said that.” With the paperwork in hand, Driver has all the Knowledge he needs to return fire to the enemy. To inflict the death strike. He is only going to get one shot to strike. Accuracy and timing with contacting the correct department is essential. If the final result is to be obtained, he must be goddamn positive that every t is crossed and her legs are in crossed so he sink his dagger of LOVE up on in this ethically confused false reality mexicanology loving bitch familia of fucktards. By: JOHN DRIVER LUBRX brand SMASHSHATTER-obliterator Edition License Cover design by OP ROM Book design by LX-5.0 All rights reserved.© No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review. This ebook is licensed for personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy. *DISCLAIMER. Please excuse any and all spelling, and grammatical errors, vocabulary misusage, flow or redundancy, ramping or un-ramping of vocabulary, BAD WORDS, fouls language, bad words used as punctuation, or bad words that sound like obscenity unintentionally, mistaken words for FIGHTING WORDS, they are not, accusations, are only hypothetical theories based on actual experiences, and or hard copy evidence provided, and all are considered a REAL THREAT to my freedom, until evidence is discovered, or uncovered, not sure which is first, that discredits the REAL THREAT. ATTENTION CONTENT DISCLAIMER COPYRIGHT LAWS INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY RIGHTS OF THE CREATIVE COLLECTIVE ™LUBR X brand channel and John Driver® The views and opinions expressed in this media or video or comments on this channel are those of the artists that provided us with that f*eked up idea and we were lazy enough to accept it, we thought it was funny, but doesn't necessarily represent the beliefs of the ®LUBR X brand channel ©2016-17 Due to the social satire of this channel it may contain content that has been copyrighted, but we took extra care in f@*k in it up, so you won't notice it was poached. The owner of this channel claims no responsibility to the creative collective and its thoughts and ideas contributed to the broadcast and therefore, can not be held accountable for liable. LUBRX brand™