#reviews with tlc

[hitorimaron]

Inspired by decay by @antebunny

Summary:

The Lans agree to take in the DafanWen after Wei Wuxian rescues them from Qiongli Path. Their only condition: that Wei Wuxian lets himself be purified of resentful energy. Lan Wangji thinks this is how he will finally get his Wei Ying back, free from demonic influences. Wei Wuxian thinks this is a fancy way of saying "execution."

[therealkaidertrash21]

rip Linh Cinder, you would've loved alexkhosieyo

[whitmore]

i also think the reason courtney’s arc always gravitates around teams and family and community themes is because stargirl is by nature a social creature; stargirl is created out of courtney’s yearning for community and understanding��something she feels she left in california, something she feels she (courtney whitmore) can’t have anymore, but an alternate version of her (stargirl) might be allowed to. and it’s kind of sad actually because if they’re not shoe-horning her into some romantic relationship, her emotional development over any given arc always follows this pattern where courtney (as courtney) feels like she can’t rely on anybody and everybody relies on her (as stargirl) and always ends with her learning to rely on someone but this narrative cycle also never ends. it repeats forever and ever. this is the only emotional plot they write for her (outside of giving her a love interest, which i could argue is just the same thing in a different font but w/e)

i don’t know when this post got so negatively charged actually i apologize i think it’s fascinating how stargirl is inherently a social creature because she was born of courtney’s need for community but i am also tired of seeing her go through the same emotional developments run after run because there are so many interesting narratives and developments that could be done with her and it feels like every issue and run just goes through the same motions. which yes. that is in fact just what comics are like i suppose. still i’d like to see something new and interesting with her. i think it’s possible that because of her genesis and the inspiration for her as a character there’s a sort of fear to take any risks with her, resulting in this endless loop of same-shoe-different-foot stories

moreover on the relationships arc point i do think it’s interesting how her love interests always fall for stargirl first, and it reinforces this ‘stargirl gets what courtney can’t have’ theme; mainly interesting because courtney sees herself as so enmeshed with stargirl that it’s rarely introspected on in any meaningful capacity and yet it’s so blatantly prevalent throughout her narrative. not to tie it all together in a neat little bow but it’s also because she’s rarely given room to be introspective; between the fear of tarnishing the memory of a real life woman and the inherently socially hungry creature that is stargirl, her arcs and narratives are almost bound to fall into the trap of being more about stargirl’s companions and the people she rescues rather than focusing on developing or even embellishing her as a character in her own right at all

[mistwraiths]

5 stars

Starting off this year, I reread the Lunar Chronicles series by Marissa Meyer. Years ago, I read them and loved them so much I named my cat after a character in the book! Because a special edition set was coming out soon, I wanted to reread them to see if I loved it just as much as I did and if it felt too young for me again. Also, 2023, I've told myself I'm allowed to reread books! I always felt guilty when I did when I have so many other books to read.

It IS just as good of a series as I remember! It doesn't feel too young in any way. This series has a beautiful blend of sci-fi, fantasy, and fairy tale retellings!! I super recommend this book if you're looking for something completely unique while still being easy to recognize and easy to read. I love that the villain doesn't shy away from being villainous without descending into ridiculousness. There's politics and threats of war and nothing magically solvs problems. Each character has their own weaknesses and strengths, and they all suffer consequences in different ways.

Cinder, Scarlet, Cress, Winter, Kai, Thorne, Wolf, Jacin, and Iko all have my heart. It's an amazing ensemble cast and a great adventure. And honestly? I do love a very well done villain.

[landinrris]

How does this keep happening to me?

[transdaughterofthesun]

Ah yes. The show most call "a horrible man made abomination beyond understanding and virtue", as well as, "even that horny fucker Zeus would look at this shitshow and decide that he is now ace", with "a series so far from good taste that both God and the Devil decided to team up to try and kill it. Much to Christianity's dismay, it appears to have failed completely", listed on the soon to be buried in New Mexico box set.

Next up, to capitalize on the outrage, TLC has announced a spin off featuring daughters and their fathers.

new gameshow Family Freud rated “wildly uncomfortable” by 98% of all popular audiences

[amandaanddonnie]

SISTER WIVES Season 19 Episode 16 - Full Episode - recap

[theresalikesbooks]

Book Review | Daughter of Ruins

Title: Daughter of Ruins by Yvette Manessis Corporon  Pages: 400 Publisher: Harper Muse (oct. 8, 2024) Genre: historical fiction Summary A motherless daughter. An Italian prostitute. A mail-order bride. Are these women brave enough to change their fates? Demitra’s mother died in America in the 1930s when Demitra was three years old. Her father took her home to the Greek island of…

[hellosig]

BotBro YFX Full Plan Review Hindi |Forex Trading BotBro |TLC Coin BotBro...

[blogmistermusic]

The Best of R&B: "CrazySexyCool" de TLC

En el año 1990, tres jovencitas de Atlanta, Tionne ‘T-Boz’ Watkins, Lisa ‘Left Eye’ Lopes y Crystal Jones, asistieron a una audición ante Babyface y Antonio ��L.A.’ Reid (los fundadores de la discográfica LaFace) con el objetivo de cumplir su sueño de formar un grupo de música. T-Boz y Lisa impresionaron a los magnates musicales por su talento cantando y bailando, sin embargo sintieron que Crystal…

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[syoddeye]

sliding scale

You're in need of a handyman. He has needs of his own. cw: discussion of kids/pregnancy, john price inserting himself into your life, heavily implied breeding kink, unsettling and smutless (my brand)

You win the jackpot. Okay. Not the jackpot, but you're hit by a respectable windfall. It's like a cheesy movie you'd watch around the holidays: A distant relative dies, you receive a very serious letter, and suddenly, your account isn't as sad as it once was.

So, you do the impossible. The unthinkable. You buy a house.

An old, well-loved house from an elderly couple.

The day you close, they tell you about raising their kids in the house and mention the names etched on the door frame. When you arrive home that evening, the empty house feels grand and hollow, but there they are, just where they said. Names climbing upward in uneven increments, faded with time, but legible. You trace your finger along the marks, imagining small hands and the measuring tape, the years slipping by. It makes you smile, despite yourself.

You've never wanted kids, not really, but the thought of this, people leaving bits of themselves behind—it makes you mushy. You figure, once the dust settles, you'll let rooms to friends, maybe friends of friends. Start a fun little commune of sorts, a collective of people coming and going.

The first night, you drink nonalcoholic wine straight from the bottle and lie on your mattress on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. There's no furniture yet, just your overnight bag and the smell of fresh paint from a patch you tested on the living room wall. You fall asleep smiling. The house needs a lot of work, but you're not worried. Some TLC and elbow grease can go a long way.

Over the next few weeks, you move in and start working. Anything is possible with the power of YouTube tutorials and the local tool library.

You start in the primary bedroom and bathroom, learning to tile, install flooring, and connect plumbing for the perfect vanity and sink you found at a thrift store. It feels good to learn how things fit together and see the fruits of your labor. At night, you sleep in one of the old kid's rooms. The wallpaper is covered in rockets and planets. A couple of glow-in-the-dark stars cling to the ceiling.

The bathroom comes together wonderfully, and you feel invincible.

But then you get to the kitchen.

After an outlet zaps you, you decide you may be in over your head. That there really is a limit to what one person can do on their own. You start looking up local contractors, but everything is out of your budget. You've been doing all the work yourself for a reason. Then, after digging for ages, you find a promising lead: John Price - Handyman - Sliding Scale.

On the phone, John seems normal. Charming. Funny. He tells you he's impressed you bought a house on your own. (You've heard that a lot lately, and while it feels patronizing, you let it go. You did jump up a band upon inheriting your chunk of Great Uncle Leroy's money.) He agrees to come by and see what he can do.

You have to admit he makes a good impression when he shows up. He's punctual, polite, and looks the part. Broad chest, thick arms, big hands resting on his hips as he surveys the kitchen. After only a few minutes, he says he'll take the job. No hesitation.

You explain your tight budget and that you'll work alongside him when you're not at your day job. You show him the money you've set aside, expecting him to back out, but he just shakes his head and nudges the folder back across the table.

"Said I'd do it. Don't you fret, darl."

You vet him afterward, just to be sure. His references check out. The reviews are solid. He appears to know a little about everything. You text him to confirm, formally offering the job, and he accepts.

On the first day, you let him in and immediately have to avert your eyes. You didn't realize a toolbelt could look like that on someone. His sleeves are rolled up, exposing his forearms, and the way he moves—confident, purposeful—makes you grateful you're heading out to work. You tell him when you'll be back and leave quickly, gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual thinking about the hunk of man in your house.

When you return, the kitchen looks different, unfinished, but vastly improved. John's already fixed things you didn't think could be fixed. Over lunch, he even scoped out other problems around the house: a crack in the basement wall, a loose board on the stairs, and spots where the flooring must be replaced. He gushes about the house, praising its character, the way it's held up over time.

John's face grows serious, and stares down his nose when he finally asks, "You're not gonna ask me to paint over the wood or rip out the built-in hutch, are ya?"

His relief over your answer is palpable: No. That's why you bought the house in the first place. You describe what you love about it: the glass doorknobs, the dining room archway, and transom windows above the doors. He nods. He knows exactly what you mean.

Before he leaves for the day, he stops at the doorframe and points to the tallest name etched into the wood. You explain it belonged to the previous owners, a family with seven kids.

"Seven," he repeats, eyebrows raised.

"Right? Can you believe that? Seven!" You laugh. Frankly, anything more than two sounds insane. 

But John doesn't laugh. He stares at the names for a moment, his jaw tight. "Yeah. Difficult to imagine."

After he leaves, you scold yourself. You don't really know John. You've known him for all of a day. What if he came from a big family? Or what if he doesn't speak to his family anymore, if things are complicated with his parents? You feel awful, and the guilt channels itself into stress-baking.

The next morning, when he shows up, there's a platter of breakfast pasties waiting on the counter. He hesitates, looks almost bashful, until you insist. He takes a bite, then another, and looks at you with genuine astonishment. He says if you leave food like this every morning, he'll knock his rate down even further.

It makes sense, financially speaking, so you agree. You start making breakfast for two, and in return, he keeps the repairs affordable. The ritual becomes routine: John shows up every weekday morning, you eat together, he gets to work, and you leave. You look forward to seeing him. Hearing his voice rumble out good mornings and goodnights.

For two weeks, you come home to find steady progress on the kitchen. You help him out for an hour or two in the evenings, and by the time it's nearly finished, you've started discussing other parts of the house.

You mention the two smallest children's rooms aren't really usable for tenants. You show him your plans to knock down the wall between them and create a library or office space.

But this time, John doesn't agree.

"First I'm hearing of this," He leans back in his chair at your table. His arms cross over his chest, legs spreading wide. Even sitting, you see what he's doing. Trying to take a posture that carries authority, to cow you. "Tenants? What about a family?"

You try to steer the conversation back to your plans, to the picture you've sketched. "I'm not planning on having one. So, like I was saying—"

"Why buy a house this big, then? Why spend all this time fixin' it up if you're not planning to honor its legacy?"

The tone of his voice shifts completely, with no trace of the easy, flirty banter that's been your norm for weeks. His words drip with disdain. His brow knits together. Nostrils flaring. He looks genuinely upset. Mystified that you're not going to fill the house with your…your brood.

It's as if your refusal to have children is an affront to him personally. 

It sends a chill down your spine. Instantly, your image of him—this dependable, good-humored man—cracks apart. You glance past him, searching for the right words, and focus on the kitchen instead. The cabinets, the fixtures, the paint. All of it bears his mark now, and it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

The realization settles like a stone in your stomach. You can't keep working with him. Not if your plans for the house, your house, are going to be a problem.

You tell him as much, as gently as possible.

His anger bleeds out of him quickly, melting into embarrassment and shame. His shoulders drop, and he folds into himself in a way that seems almost impossible for someone his size. "Don't know what came over me, darl."

He packs up his tools while apologizing again, both for his outburst and for the unfinished work, and gives you the spare key you lent to him for emergencies. Before he leaves, he asks you not to write a review, not even a positive one, and you agree. Things had been good until now. You don't want to ruin him over this. People have bad days.

With the kitchen functional and nothing too big left on your plate, you cut your losses and decide to finish the work alone.

Progress is slow on your own, of course. One pair of hands, only so many hours after work to chip away at the list after work. Still, time moves faster than you expect. You push through exhaustion, head often swimming, and work late into the evenings. One night, you finish patching the floor and tackle the basement's cracked wall. Only when you get down there, it's already done. Smoothed over perfectly.

You tell yourself John must've fixed it before everything went south. But then you notice other things. Several odd jobs from your list are already complete.

Squeaky door hinges turn silent. The dings and nail holes in the walls, spackled over. The second toilet that kept running starts working correctly. It's partly a relief, like the house is taking care of itself, but also deeply unsettling. You don't remember doing it, you've never sleepwalked or slept-repair in your life, even in your overtired state, and you're still too sore over your falling out to text John and ask if he did it all.

Instead, you decide to take a break. A few days off work, a proper rest. Let the house settle, let yourself breathe. Nothing happens. No floating tools. No ghosts. It's like the house is waiting for you to look away.

Paranoia sets in. You order cameras—indoor and outdoor, enough to cover every angle.

The day they arrive, you barely make it through the door before tearing open the box. But something stops you. Your eyes catch on a strange wooden box sitting on the dining table. It's a shadowbox.

Inside the box is the slat from the front doorframe, the one with the heights and names of the seven kids who grew up here. It's been cut out, perfectly, and framed like an artifact.

Your stomach drops. You scramble to the doorframe and run your hands over it, frantic. The patchwork is seamless, so clean it's like the names never existed.

Then you notice the boots. Tucked in and lined up next to your own pairs. The extra jacket hanging on the hooks.

A shadow falls over you.

You freeze, heart in your throat, and slowly turn with eyes the size of dinner plates. Towering above you, sleeves rolled to his elbows, fists planted on his hips, is John. Grinning.

"Work alright today?" He bends down and pulls you to your feet by your wrist, wrapping you up in an embrace and welcoming you home. He sways slightly with you, like you're dancing, his chest rising and falling against yours. He looks at you with a clear fondness and affection, but there's something off, like a splintering foundation. Stable until you look too close.

You try to push yourself away, palms flat against his chest, but he doesn't let go. "What are—What are you doing here? What are—Why did you do that?" You glance again toward where the measurements used to be.

He chuckles, soft and unbothered, a wistfulness threaded in his words. "Well, we're gonna need the room for our little ones, yeah? Oh, we'll have seven or more, dependin' on what takes. Sliding scale and all that."

At your stunned, horrified silence, he slots a hand into the back pocket of your jeans. He gives your cheek a little squeeze and starts steering you toward the kitchen. The one he built for you.

"C'mon. Lemme tell you all about my plans for us."

[sourmonsterworms]

Ooooooohhh... On The TLC Tip (1992) - TLC

Album good....... Its fun to listen to! Music now wishes it could be this fun! Left Eye really is the shining jewel tho.

9/10

1. Ain't 2 Proud 2 Beg

2. Das Da Way We Like 'Em

3. Hat 2 Da Back

[katiethepolarbear]

Library Finds

Guys I went to my local library and found some great books! Please leave me suggestions in the comments of which one I should read first or what I should read next!

[amandaanddonnie]

SISTER WIVES Exclusive - Fans talk Pet Peeves of Season 19