#they very much divorce it all from the concept of hatred and get very upset when they're called on it because they genuinely

[andromeda3116]

It's because he's God's Chosen Leader and this is A Christian Nation that has Strayed From Jesus And Needs To Be Brought Back To Him. And Jesus has Chosen Trump As Our Savior and therefore, anything he does is excusable, and anything truly inexcusable is a Liberal Lie meant to slander him. He can be flawed, that's okay, Jesus Uses Flawed People To Accomplish Perfect Ends. This is a battle of Good Versus Evil and taking down The Radical Left Communists must be done by any means.

This is why they can break all the rules they want, break the game board, break the Constitution. It's all in pursuit of "saving" the nation and bringing it "back" to Jesus. It's all on the table. It's all acceptable. Lying, cheating, inciting a coup -- I'm sorry, "rallying a militia to overthrow a corrupt government" -- or even murder, it doesn't matter. This is war. It must be won at any cost.

It doesn't matter that, as soon as you take even half a step back, you can see that they're trying to install a king over a theocracy, which is the exact literal thing that the American Revolution was about getting rid of -- because it's their theocracy. Their king. Chosen by God to lead in His name and bring glory to the highest.

...by dismantling any climate change policies and regulations giving us clean air and programs that feed the poor and relieve debt and give sick people healthcare. Because those programs help the "undeserving" and cost tax money that they ought to be getting in their own paychecks instead of helping other people. It's the church's mandate, the community's place, to help the sick and poor, not the government's! The government isn't discerning, doesn't know who really deserves it, and they might give that money to a drug addict or a sex worker or a lazy welfare queen or -- heaven forbid -- one of them transgender people.

(Unless, of course, one of those undesirables wishes to repent and come into the Light Of Jesus, in which case all arms come open and they're taken care of. Given food and shelter. As long as they stay in line and do what they're told and submit to the Glory Of God.)

Sorry, I grew up in Mississippi in the Southern Baptist Church and (well after leaving the church at 19) worked with a bunch of hardcore Trumpers through the whole presidency and got to see deep into how they think and justify everything. The structure of the Evangelical Church at this point is a well-oiled machine for churning out followers of the Republican Party, regardless of what the party does or how it hurts them. They indoctrinate you when you're young, keep you scared and submissive, and turn you into an adult who's terrified of the world. And fear makes people angry and stupid, and makes them want someone to come and make them safe.

And who better to do that than a king who fights for their cause?

Hegel remarks somewhere that all great world-historic facts and personages appear, so to speak, twice. He forgot to add: the first time as tragedy, the second time as farce.

--Karl Marx

"Project 2025 seeks to place the entire U.S. federal government under direct presidential control"

Hang on, didn't y'all have a literal revolution about this??

Why, yes. Yes, we famously did have a revolution over not wanting to be ruled by an absolute monarch and to set up a system of (however flawed it was and is) representative democracy. And the people peddling this BS call themselves "real Americans." Because you see, as long as the absolute monarch is a twice-impeached, convicted-rapist, serial business fraud, currently-charged-with-91-felonies-including-espionage-and-sedition orange psychopath, or some other true believer white-supremacist christofascist, it's all right.

[jimlingss]

I really enjoyed reading your fic fall in hatred with jin and liked the concept of a couple on the verge of a divorce. I thought I’d make a request for an angsty marriage/divorce au with another member like jk but it ends fluffy🥺

Whether you take this request or not, I wanted to say that you’re a great writer and I always love reading your stories 💜

↳ Honeymoon Horrors

3.7k || 55% Angst, 45% Fluff || Min Yoongi || Divorce!AU

It was great when it started.   Cloud nine had descended down and made its home above both your heads. You were practically floating, swooning, living a romance that Nicholas Sparks would’ve envied. You felt like you were on a permanent high as if weed and cocaine was permanently stuck in your system. You had reached enlightenment and you were permanently euphoric. How could you not be?   You had met your soulmate after all.   But as the years passed, it came tumbling down. Cloud nine started to rain. You swooned so hard that you struck your head against the edge of the kitchen counter. Instead of floating, you were getting dragged down to hell and the high you felt turned into a crash. Most importantly, you became enraged.   And you’re still mad now.   When you watch your wedding videos, all you can do is throw popcorn at the screen and scream at the grinning bitch that she’s making the worst mistake of her life.    Life’s full of plot twists, isn’t it?   And you can only chuckle at that realization now. Because what was meant to be the honeymoon you never had, a replacement honeymoon of sorts, is turning out to be a nightmare.   “Hey. Can you move?”   You rip off your headphones. “Excuse me?”   “You’re taking up all of the space.” Yoongi stares at you lazily. “This is supposed to be my armrest.”   “No. This is mine. That’s yours.”   “No. Yours is next to the window. This one is supposed to be mine. If you’re that uncomfortable, you should’ve just given me the window seat.”   You scoff and shove his arm off the armrest with your own. The half-offended, half-amused expression on Yoongi’s face is utterly stupid. It’s as if he’s judging you for being childish when he was the one who started this. You wish you could punch him square in the nose. “If you want me to move, then why don’t you move your legs? You’re taking up all the leg room!”   “You’re only out of space because you had to put your purse under the seat.”   “Where else am I supposed to put my purse?!”   “Do you see me carrying a purse?”   Suddenly, there’s a clearing of the throat. A female flight attendant is standing at the aisle and leaning over while wearing a perfectly, cordial smile. “Is there a problem over here?”   Your eyes narrow into the nosy bitch sitting across the aisle who probably tattled. You saw her looking in the corner of her eye from the very start.    “No. Not at all.”   Yoongi smiles easily. “We’re fine.”   There’s an urge to roll your eyes.    In all honesty, you underestimated Yoongi. While your divorce was well on its way and heading off like a bullet train, you had forgotten how petty he was. Exactly like you. Maybe that’s why for a period of time, you suited one another so well.   With the deposit already given on what was supposed to be the honeymoon extravaganza you never had and the plans already made long ago, you were set on going no matter what. Except he was also set on going. The asshole couldn’t give up and neither were you willing to give in.   So here you were. With your worst nemesis.    “Can you repeat that?”   “I’m sorry, ma’am. There’s no possible way we can get you two rooms.” The receptionist looks up from her computer screen. “You originally booked the presidential suite, correct?”   “Yes, but we changed it into two regular rooms a while ago,” Yoongi says. His brows are cinched together and he’s gripping onto the itinerary tightly.   The girl behind the front desk looks at her computer again and clicks twice but probably at nothing. “I’m so sorry. It looks like it didn’t register into our system. Is there anything else I can do for you?”   This is dreadful. As if things couldn’t get worse, they got much much worse.   “Great.” You haul in your luggage, no thanks to him. “This is just great.”   “Yeah, keep complaining,” Yoongi grumbles, “See how much that helps.”   “Shut up.”   On the top floor, the room is quiet and open. There’s a love seat in front of a flat screen television, a dining room and an open kitchen and bar. The large glass windows fully face the sandy, blue beach and allows light to pour into the enormous space. There are two chairs outside the private terrace and a jacuzzi too. But as beautiful as the place is, you feel bitter.    It should’ve been great.    It would’ve been great if you were alone.   And to make matters worse, it seems like the resort hadn’t gotten the news that your relationship with Yoongi was essentially decimated. Not when there was a scattered rose petal path leading up to the king-sized bed which also had two folded doves on it with the word ‘congratulations’ spelled out in more petals. There’s also a note: I hope you enjoy yourselves, Mr. and Mrs. Min. And neither of you miss the mountainous stack of condoms on the nightstand.   Yoongi’s pale. “Christ.”   The knock on the door breaks the thick tension.   Yoongi opens the door, and he immediately steps back as two enthusiastic employees enter while wheeling in a silver cart. “Aloha, welcome to Hawaii! Are you the newlyweds?”   “Umm…”    The two of you are well past that period. To be exact, you married nearly two years ago, but you don’t know how to break it to them. Yoongi’s never been good with words either.   “Enjoying your honeymoon, aren’t you? Congratulations!” The older man is excited as if he was the one who got married. “We bought you a bottle of our best champagne to celebrate and hope you have an everlasting marriage!”   The girl beside the man pops the cork and pours the champagne, and you realize it would be more painless to go along with it.   “Thanks,” you mumble, taking your flute of champagne and nearly downing the entire thing in one go. Yoongi holds his and raises a brow at you.   “We also have a red velvet cake.” He shows you on the busy cart. “And our freshest chocolate strawberries just made earlier by our finest chef. I think you’ll enjoy this chocolate as well.”   “Thank you.” Yoongi offers a faint smile. “This is really nice.”   “Of course, of course! Anything for our newlyweds!” There’s a small bowl of almonds next to the chocolates and two raw oysters served on a plate. It’s odd with the ensemble, but then the man leans closer as if revealing a secret and puts a hand by his mouth. “It is said almonds, chocolate and oysters are aphrodisiacs.”   You choke on your champagne, sputtering.   The girl grins. Yoongi’s wide-eyed.   He collects himself quicker than you do. “Thank you.”   Luckily the friendly, borderline-overbearing staff leave the both of you to it and you’re put out of your misery. For only a moment.   “Are you going to finish that bottle of champagne by yourself?” Yoongi asks across the room and you turn your head to see his cocked brow. Of course, he’s unpacking. The asshole doesn’t know how to relax and always has to make you look bad.   You scoff. “I’m about to open the red wine too.”   “Never thought I’d see you be reduced to a drunk so quickly.”   “Why can’t you just leave me alone? You’re always judging and nitpicking me.”   “I was making a comment.”   “Yeah and no one asked you to,” you mumble into the glass.   Yoongi eyes you. “You don’t have to get so upset, Y/N.”   “Are you serious?” Your posture straightens, legs lifted off the chair you propped them on and feet shifted onto the ground. “I was sitting here minding my own business. Why don’t you mind your own business.”   “I just thought you didn’t want to be sloppy when dinner hasn’t even started yet.”   “I know how to control my pacing.”   Yoongi snorts.   Your tongue rolls inside your cheek. “Excuse me?”   “What?”   “You look like you want to say something.”   “No. Not at all.”   You place the flute down onto the table. “Say it, Yoongi.”    “I thought you said I should mind my own business.”   “You’re such a condescending asshole, you know that?”   Yoongi stops folding his shirt and shuts the drawer. His expression is impassive and it irritates you more. “Pot meets kettle.”   “For someone who’s supposedly quiet, you fucking never know how to shut up.”   “Can’t you just calm down, Y/N? Unlike what you think, I’m not trying to get on your nerves. I’m trying to enjoy this trip.”   “Why are you acting like I’m the only one getting upset and that I’m the crazy one,” you spit, and he opens his mouth as if to say you are being crazy. But you don’t let him— “Don’t you dare say it. Fuck you, Yoongi. You don’t think I’m trying to enjoy this too? You think I wanted it to be like this?!”   “Maybe if you weren’t trying to pick a fight with me every goddamn second, you would have a good time, woman.”   “You’re the one who’s always trying to pick a fight with me!”   He sighs, body language dismissive to what you’re saying. “Stop being so upset—”   “Well too bad, I am upset! So just let me be!” You stand on your feet, teeth gritted and fist clenched. You’re practically screaming across the suite but there aren’t any close enough neighbours to complain. “You’re always telling me what I should and shouldn’t feel! This is exactly why we’re getting a divorce!”   With the last word said, you stomp away and the bathroom door slams shut. It’s the only place you can be alone, but even then, the four walls are frosted glass.   …   You’re not sure who brought up divorce first. It’s not like it matters. But one thing you do know is that it came up in an argument. A jab where someone’s sole intention was to hurt. And the other person stubbornly retaliated with ‘fine, have it your way’.   You remember calling your lawyer and him calling his. The process continued and continued and as it did, so did your arguments as the two of you realized no one was going to stop it. It became more painful the more time that went on. Clearly, it meant he was serious about it. Clearly, he didn’t care if he was happy to sign divorce papers. So you made yourself not care too.   And it continued to snowball like that.   Before you knew it, you were telling your families that the divorce was happening, much to their distress. Before you knew it, here you were.   By the time you get out of the bathroom, Yoongi’s gone.   He probably left for some peace and quiet. After all, it’s volatile when you’re together. It’s not like you want it to be that way, it just became that way. What sucks the most is that you know he’s right. You’re part to blame for the recent argument. You got too worked up unnecessarily. You’re constantly on the defensive as if he’s out to attack you. And once it’s quiet, you hate that you shouted.   But he has his own part to blame too. Yoongi knows how to get under your skin. He knew he was egging you on and he didn’t stop. So it escalated and escalated.   You end up wandering the resort by yourself. You enjoy the sunset on the beach and when the dinner buffet is open, you sit alone with your plate, staring out into the empty abyss of the ocean shrouded in darkness. All around you, there are families and lovers, jovial music that’s inviting.   Yet you feel isolated in the crowd.   You try to move around, preoccupy yourself.    But the last thing you expect is to see Yoongi. Across the bar. With a pretty, young girl on his arm. A sun-kissed blonde, to be specific. Wearing a crop top with booty shorts.    Yoongi’s nursing a whisky on the rocks, his usual drink, as she grasps onto his bicep. The swell of her breasts are practically pushed onto him. She says something and he smiles.   At the same time, something boils in the pit of your stomach. It’s pure, unadulterated rage.   Before you know it, you’ve turned on your heel and beelined to the hotel lobby bar. You call yourself hard liquor and down the drink as you seethe. The image of him and that Barbie doll is seared into your mind, flashing beneath your eyelids each time you blink.   The liquid burns and tears pool into your eyes, but you hold them back.   The bar is busy, filled of guests constantly ordering, so no one notices that you keep downing bitter drinks until there’s a tap on your shoulder—   “Aloha.” A concerned employee looms over you. “Is everything alright?”   That’s when you realize you’ve been drinking by yourself for three full hours. The table’s crowded with glasses and the ones on the edge are a centimeter away from falling over.   You end up waving him away and stumbling back to the room.   The world is teetering and you try to lean onto the wall for balance. It’s a miracle that you pressed the right number on the elevator when everything was swirling together. Or at least, you’re pretty sure this is the right floor.   You pound on the door. “Yoongiiiiii! Yoongiii! Open up!”   When there’s no response, you mutter ‘asshole’. Then your eye peels open and you realize you’ve been knocking against the door of the ice and vending machine room. You turn on your heel and careen to the next door.   “Yooongiiii!” you whine his name in exasperation, cheek pressed against the smooth surface.   You only have to call out twice before the door’s suddenly swinging open and you’re falling into the arms of your (soon-to-be ex-) husband. “‘Bout time. Was waiting foreverrr!”   “Fuck.” Yoongi’s nose scrunches at the smell of alcohol and he grabs a hold of your shoulders, pulling you away from him, nose scrunched at your smell. He keeps you at a safe distance as if you were nervous middle-schoolers at your first dance. You hate it. Why can’t he just hug you? “God, how much did you drink, Y/N?”   “Dunno. Lost my key card.”   “What?”   The door swings shut.   “Are you banging a chick in our room?” you slur, trying to keep your eyes open to look at him. He was already changed into his soft pajamas, a blue checkered print that made him look so much cuter. It’s unfair. “Am I interrupting?”   His brows cinch together, lips turning down. Yoongi’s visibly confused. “Ban—”   “Saw you talkin’ to that pretty girl at the bar,” you huff, wobbling back and forth.   He’s dumbfounded. “Who?”   “Don’t play stupid!” You poke his chest with your finger. “That lil girl who looks like a model!”   Yoongi winces at the volume of your voice and you add in frustration, “I’ll leave if you are, so just tell me already.”   “No, I’m not sleeping with anyone, Y/N.” Yoongi fixes his arm around your waist to keep you balanced and he sighs, reaching down to help you take off your shoes. “So much for knowing how to pace yourself, Y/N,” he mumbles with a faint smile on his lips instead of the annoyance you’re used to.   Yoongi loops your arm around his neck and begins to guide you towards the bed. But you stop, making your legs deadweight and you turn to him, staring into his eyes so deep, it’s like you’re looking into his soul. It’s pretty.   “What?” he asks, almost uncomfortable by your intense gawking.    “Do you not love me anymore?”   “What?”   “Just tell me, goddammit. Do you have no feelings towards me no more?” You pound your chest with your free hand. Yoongi plops you onto the love seat when he sees that you have no plans of making it to the bed. “Did everything mean nothin’ to you?”   He remains silent.   You angrily shout— “Answer me!”   Yoongi flinches. “God, Y/N. You don’t need to scream, I’m right next to you.” He sighs and drags a hand over his face. “If it meant nothing to me, do you think I’d be taking care of you right now? Now sit here and wait.”   With his dictatorial command wielded with his low voice, you pout but obey.    Yoongi returns a minute later with your pajamas in one hand and a cool glass of water in the other. “Drink this. And all of it.”   You nurse the glass of water with two hands and get a sip in. But your pout persists and before you know it, you’re bursting into tears. Yoongi all but freezes.   “’m sorry,” you sob, “I didn’t wanna fight.”   “Y/N.”   “I don’t mean to be so mad! I’m sorry.”   Yoongi kneels in front of you with a long sigh. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he coaxes and tugs the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the beads of teardrops trekking down your cheeks. “I know you didn’t mean it.”   “Really?”   “Yes. If anything….I’m sorry too,” Yoongi mumbles solemnly and before you can react, he’s already moved on. “Now drink your water.”   You cry into your glass, but you down the entire thing like he said and your crying stops by the end.   “Arms up,” Yoongi commands and you listen to him. He peels off your shirt in one single swoop and tosses it aside. He helps you put on your pajama top without blinking an eye and pulls the hem of your leggings to replace those as well. Yoongi even takes a damp washcloth to wipe your face and you watch him the entire time. His lashes are long, and Yoongi’s so nice and reliable. “Let's get you to bed, alright?”   You nod, and he guides you to it, having cleared the rose petals earlier. “So you didn’t sleep with her?”   “No.”   “Why not? She was hot!”   “I wasn’t interested.”   “Really?”   “Really,” Yoongi assures as he sets you to sit on the edge of the mattress. He moves to pull the sheets and struggles with how tucked in they are. In the meanwhile, you get the greatest idea you’ve ever had—   “Then fuck me instead before you fuck her.”   “What?”   Yoongi’s entire body goes rigid and he whips his head towards you with eyes that nearly bulge out of their sockets. You pout at him. “I wanna suck your dick and feel it in me, Yoongi. I miss it. When we used to have sex. It was so good.”   “Oh, you are so drunk.” He chuckles, a sound that sounds so nice you wish you can hear it forever and ever. “You’re going to be so embarrassed when you wake up tomorrow, Y/N.”   Yoongi pulls the sheet and is about to get you tucked in. But you steal the opportunity when he gets close and you loop your arms around his neck. “No, I’m not.” Your voice drops into a whisper. “Remember when you used to spit in my mouth? And you liked it sooo much.” You giggle when you notice his ears becoming hot and red. “You still like it now, don’t you, you nasty freak!”   You smack him on the shoulder in the midst of your bubbling laughter and he winces.    “Ow!”   “Imagine if I got pregnant from it too!” you add in your hysterics.   “Let’s not.”   “I always thought our kids would be so cute. Especially if they got your cheeks.” You reach and tug on Yoongi’s cheeks while giggling. He lets you have your fun, staying still and letting you squish his face together. And in your drunken state, you don’t realize how tender his eyes become.   “We’re getting a divorce, Y/N.”   You frown. “Why on earth would we do that?”   “Because,” he murmurs.   “Let’s not,” you slur. “Can’t we cancel it?”   It goes quiet with Yoongi gazing into your eyes. “Do you even know what you’re saying?”   “Yeah.” You grow sheepish. “Aren’t you supposed to get a divorce if you hate each other?”   “That’s how it works generally.” Yoongi stands and gently presses on your shoulder to lay you down. The pillows feel soft underneath your head and he starts to tug the covers up to your chin.   “But I don’t hate you. I care a loooooot about you.” You sulk. “Otherwise, why’d I get jealous when I saw you at the bar?”   The corner of his mouth tugs. “So you’re admitting you were jealous?”   “Wouldn’t you get jealous if you saw me with someone else?”   Yoongi thinks about it. “Maybe.”   “Maybe?”   He finally admits, “Yeah, I’d be pretty pissed.”   You hum contently, lids becoming uncontrollably heavier. You want to stay up. It’s so much fun talking to Yoongi. It feels like forever since you talked to him like this. But you’re so tired. And comfortable. You want him to cuddle and spoon you to sleep. Yoongi cuddles are the best.   “Yooongiiii.”   You call out to him with your eyes closed.   “Yeah?”   “I think—” You go dead quiet and after three seconds, he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, but then your mouth moves again. “—I loooove you.” A beat later, your two arms suddenly raises up into the air. Hands measuring about a ruler stick length. “This much.”   He snorts and turns off the lamp. “Go to sleep, Y/N.”   …   When you wake up the next morning, your head is absolutely pounding.   For the first time, you detest how much light the damn room lets in. You also curse aging and having to suffer hangovers when five years ago, you were perfectly unscathed the next day after drinking.   Luckily, there’s advil on the bedside with a tall glass of water and you down the entire thing after taking a pill. You’re not so sure where these came from, but your answer is across the room.   Yoongi, realizing you’re awake, has an amused smile on his face and his brow cocked. More importantly, his eyes have somehow softened.   You groan, remembering last night. Every detail. Every word. Like a film that could be played back. It’s mortifying and even without your obvious reaction, Yoongi’s been with you long enough to know how superb your memory is even after being wasted. He knows you know.   And the worst part?    You meant it all.

[cecilyneville]

the spanish princess: episode 8

“why are people watching this show if they don’t like it???”

me: 

(i mean hating on this show, not actually watching it - nothing about tsp is fun, the whole thing has been mean-spirited from beginning to end)

ruairi was good as prince henry, but as king henry? awful

“i would not come to help you” so how much more of coa being a cunt are we going to get? bc if this episode is called “peace” i assume she has to...idk...start being a bit nicer

god, fucking finally

if they want us to like catherine bc she’s finally paying attention to mary that isn’t “HMM SHE IS NOT A BOY”, they got another thing coming

catherine was horrible to everyone including her ladies and her daughter, but she’s slightly nicer now so it’s ok!!!!

“men of arran and men of hamilton” the writers have finally realised there are more families in scotland than stewart and douglas

WHY has albany kidnapped james? at first i thought it was a ruse b/w him and meg but apparently not. wouldn’t it make more sense for her to return to scotland to find that angus has kidnapped james?

it makes so much sense for ef to just ignore the fact that margaret douglas exists and keep prince alexander alive

ursula where you been all this time???

finally some semi-accurate headwear on maggie. but ONLY on maggie, not on ursula, bc if it’s anything the costuming on all three series have taught us, only old ladies cover their heads

also finally - laura carmichael is getting some decent material to work with! (relatively speaking)

bessie instructing henry fitzroy is very similar to her tudors counterpart doing the same, bc of course

comb ur fuckin hair dude

i’m not gonna lie, this latin standoff between mary & henry fitzroy is hilarious, like a 16th-century spelling bee

“there’s nothing i can give a girl” except, you know, sending her to ludlow as heirs to the throne were before her, but even that level of nuance is too confusing for fraham

“my brother is more sympathetic to her cause than he has been” this week: henry discovers the concept of divorce

“go to the king anne, smile and win his favour” yet another barely-concealed tudors ripoff

thomas more just like “maggie you’re fucked up bc your life has been so shit”

if henry is speaking about this script then he is 100% correct

oh rosa’s here! so not one but BOTH of catherine’s besties will ditch her, delicious

FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, THIS IS THE MOST OBVIOUS, CLUNKY WAY TO DO IT LMAO

oh they’re going for a becket/henry ii vibe here with wolsey & henry, don’t mind this

it bothers me SO much that they keep calling maggie henry’s aunt when they never bothered to include elizabeth’s actual sisters after they put cecily on a bus (which, to be fair, was probably for the best)

i kind of recoil when people say “[insert historical figure] would be so offended by this depiction” because if someone like catherine of aragon were shown any modern depiction of herself, her head would probably explode out of confusion and horror. BUT this is so offensive to the real catherine of aragon

i would like to see laura carmichael as elizabeth of york - it’s the big brown eyes

is she doing this out of hatred for her inability to give the king a son??? what does it all MEAN emma

i mean i guess he’s hotter than angus

i know this hunting scene is supposed to reflect something from part one which i didn’t watch, but it just reminds me of the tudors s1 finale when henry and anne fucked in the woods 

also reminds me very much of the great when peter tries to drown catherine

catherine quoting deuteronomy and unwittingly confessing to consummating her marriage with arthur...CONGRATULATIONS YOU PLAYED YOURSELF

soz to sound like a broken record but the fact that people - even some actual critics - watch CH’s performance and think this is actually good acting will never not be funny to me, she’s atrocious. it’s so jarring looking at behind the scenes footage and seeing her smiling, like couldn’t you actually do this on screen? she plays catherine like the woman’s never felt happiness in her life, or any other emotion for that matter

lina’s not gonna sell catherine out and i’m so mad about it, she has treated you like SHIT for YEARS

god, she can’t even cry believingly

HELL YES MEG, DISCO INFERNO

we won’t have time to see meg’s marriage to henry stewart fail spectacularly, which is probably a good thing bc my heart would break

catherine has been absolutely VILE to lina but it’s ok bc she’s said sorry now

“i would speak with you” / “it seems you already are” LOLLLL

so funny that it’s only NOW that they’re getting french hoods of some kind, but not with actual veils because, like i said, only old dowdy matrons don’t get to show their sexy hair

WHAAAAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

i mean, i’m not surprised, given how much fraham hate anne 

“so, you’re playing anne boleyn. congrats! but you’ll only get, like, one line, and you WILL have to get your tits out”

guys she’s so upset can’t you tell

CH got a taste for holding bows on game of thrones it’s the only thing she’s good at

STELLLAAAAAA

of course meg has to actually fire the cannons rather than just train them on angus and his men, but this is very fun

surprised they didn’t point out that one of scotland’s greatest cannons was called “mons meg”

fuck this nice scene between catherine and lina! she doesn’t deserve your forgiveness lina!!!

i guess catherine’s woke levels need to be maintained by keeping her one black friend who was a slave irl

hahahaha i fucking love her

“i will always be your wife, there is nothing you can do to change that” knock knock it’s the reformation

catherine choosing to leave makes no sense for this show or for the history they’re ~supposed~ to be depicting

“you will never take my place as queen of england” KNOCK KNOCK IT’S THE REFORMATION

catherine is an old lady now so we shall signify this by giving her a gable hood

catherine she just asked if the bird was dead jesus

which it should be by now...it’s been around since like 1510??

ah yes, let’s bring back that other metaphor, the imperialism compass 

if all the disgruntled tories had their way this would be on the end credits of every episode of the crown too

and that’s all folks! let’s all be thankful that this show didn’t submit us to an absolute butchery of catherine’s blackfriars speech

[codyboolman]

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[kitsuhe]

i wanna rant about my shitty grandparents (mostly grandfather for now) and how my parents didnt deserve any of this.

a side story of how my parents met: my mom was from China and worked in a cafe (with lodging) for years. she wanted to leave china because the marriage laws werent very good to women, they didnt have a lot of rights, and people can just get married and divorced on a whim, and so a marriage there would make her feel very insecure.

she saw loads of men with fancy motorcycles they probably borrowed flirting with the waitresses and getting them pregnant even though some of those men were married already. she saw loads of waitresses in and out of the job, and so she willed to never give in to the flirtations and worked at the cafe till she was around 26.

my father’s boss was in that area once in a while and frequented that cafe. he noticed my mom who always remained there and was like hey she seemed to be a nice woman and so he introduced her to his son, aka my fathers colleague.

according to my mom, the son was a wishy-washy man who couldnt make up his mind. they went for a few dates and things werent really clicking. my father, however, said ‘i want her’ when he saw her and so the choice was made, they started dating, and she went back to china for the time being. they then maintained a long distance relationship with phone calls, and one year later she came to singapore and got married. 

cute, right?

then the in-laws hell, aka my grandparents begun.

and now my father’s backstory, first:

he was the classic example of the scapegoat i think. out of his siblings (an older brother, a younger brother, and a younger sister), he was the one my grandparents hated the most. ‘hated’ isnt even an exaggeration, apparently hey did tell him explicitly that he was the one they hated the most. A+ parenting yall. when in school, while his siblings get 50cents and 30cents (in order of favouritism), he got 20cents or none. they didnt care about the education of their kids, and so my dad dropped out at P3 (9 years old) and the others all within primary school age. my aunt may have went further though, im not sure.

when he started working at 13, my grandma would wait at the door everytime he got his salary and took all of it away. i dont think he got to keep any of it. she gambled quite often and spent loads of money.

it was from these incredibly unfair xperiences on childhood that my dad swore he would treat and spoil his kids and not show favouritism.

my parents got married years later, and basically everyone in my extended family h a t e d my mom, despite it being entirely non-justified because my mom is a freaking wonderful woman who isnt afraid of hardwork. Because my mom came from china, im presuming that its some mixture of xenophobia and racism that made them say that my mom was only here to mooch off my dad, and treat her like shit, until they didnt as they finally opened their eyes.

over here, all men have to go through compulsory national serivce, and my dad was no exception. after serving the 2 years they have to go back periodically for reservist training. this is the background info for this incident im going to repeat from my mother.

after she got married over here, my dad still had to go for reservist training. they only had a limited amount of time to use the phone after one entire week. my mom called him, talked to him as his wife, before uncle2 (the younger brother) interruppted her and told her to stop using the phone. assuming that he had an emergency,  my mom quickly finished and hung up, my dad losing his rare few minutes to talk to his wife.

then uncle2 didnt use the phone.

god fucking damn it.

an example of unfair treatment: uncle1 had a different wife at that time. while my mom cooked entire meals for the family (they were living with my grandparents and uncle2 and probably aunt at that time) while being pregnant, when it came to be her birthday, my grandma didnt give her a red packet (gift of money). ‘im an old woman who hasnt worked for years, i have no money’.

then when it came to uncle1′s wife, who had never cooked any food and only got takeaways when she visited, she got a big shiny red packet from my grandma.

yeah, what the hell. my mom said she was very upset about this and cried. god, she was surrounded by people who hated her and yet she still worked so hard for them, she genuinely doesnt deserve this.

heres another thing about my grandma: apparently she gambled so often she oftently went to genting to gamble and the money all came from her kids. yeah. .

(my dads a chef, uncle1 is a mechanic, uncle2 is a part timer with no set jobs, and aunt is unknown.)

then i was born. my mom wasnt a citizen, and had to pay a lot of money to stay in the most expensive hospital word. the rare good thing my grandpa did was to fork out $2000 for her to have me. one day, if i can and he isnt dead yet, i will pay him back. ‘thats your coffin money’ i will say. ‘im not obligated to you anymore please leave my life forever’ i want to say.

looking back at the thick stack of photo albums, things appeared to be all happy and fun. people were smiling in the pictures, and i was showered in love and affection from everyone. it is only recently that i came to learn of the shit my parents went through under them.

i was also a lively and boisterous child who had no concept of day and night, it was almost enough to scare my parents into not having my siblings. nonetheless, my sister came into existence.

picture this: my dad looking all frazzled and tired as he took care of a wild toddler at the hospital without sleeping for 3 days straight, and my mom in labour, waiting to give birth. the nurse asked why wasnt anyone there to help out? 

my mom said that was the only time she had ever seen my dad cry. my sister, my mom, and i all teared up as she recounted this.

it was then they swore to move out and not to rely on anyone ever again. the house i am in now is paid entirely by my parents.

my sister was born, and eventually, they moved out before my brother was born.

when they moved out, my grandma shouted at them ‘dont come back! i hope you die!’

at one point, or perhaps distance made the heart grow fonder, my grandparents and uncles started to treat my mom very nicely, realising that they were utterly wrong to judge and treat her that way at the beginning. thats why they treat her so nicely now, my mom explained. it is also the reason why my grandma always brought kuehs and chocolate cake over when she visited, subsequently developing my dislike of chocolate cake and neutrality towards chocolate at best. at this point im pretty sure they all like my mom more than my dad.

my aunt learnt her lesson in the form of receiving discrimination and hatred she once showed to my mom upon being married to a family of university graduates, and her only graduating secondary school. she wasnt as well-educated, and so after sharing my moms pain of being the hated daughter in law she finally learnt empathy and started being nice.

my grandpa too was a convert. he came over everyday to help out with chores and to take care of us. perhaps when we were all young the help was truly needed back then, but then some events made everyone question his motives...

i remember him fetching me from kindergarten every day every time. i wondered why my dad never did, and was happy on the occasions he did. it is only years later that i learnt that my grandpa hogged all those times to fetch us (my siblings and i). he outright refused to let my parents especially my dad to fetch us. on the occasions that my dad came, he threw a tantrum and went home. my dad was visibly upset as he recount this to us. ‘it felt like he was keeping my kids away from me’ he said. he has taken so much from my dad, and now even his kids???? im so upset on his behalf??

it genuinely feels like hes controlling everyone around him.

he is still coming over every single day, and from what i can tell he is incredibly passive aggressive and can never be satisifed with my dad. i dread his arrival.

for example, he refuses to eat anything my dad cooked. my dad, a known chef. once my dad made a noodle dish for dinner, he told my dad oh i cant eat noodles for dinner.

cue him eating the noodles my mom cooked for dinner.

cue him getting noodles for takeaway for dinner.

these days whenever my dad cooks for dinner we just give him money for takeaway.

speaking of leaving that ungrateful old bastard money, he also takes issue with my dad for this somehow. my dad left a note saying that thats his dinner money on the table, and he felt that it was so disrespectful he went to my moms workplace which is near where he lives and complained to her.

meanwhile my mom did the exact same thing and he had zero complaints.

when my dad fell asleep in my brothers room with my brother in it, he walked in and deliberately talked at the top of his lungs about some trivial matter that never came up in the years of living here.

the creepy amount of adoration he shows my mom is also apparent in how he would follow my tired sweaty mom after shes home from work  everywhere to talk and yabber on about irrelevant things. she was obviously busy and wanted to be left alone, but hey that POS never cared about what anyone ever thought or wanted if its in conflict to what he wants. sometimes she had to close the door just to get him to leave her alone, and once he just opened the door and continued talking. my dad was enraged, he said he almost went to start a fight with him, and he would especially if my mom was in the midst of changing at the time.

once my dad brought him to the doctor. ‘so what did they say’ he would ask my dad repeatedly over and over again after seeing the doctor. ‘you are fine, and if anything happens the doctor will inform us to go to the hospital’.

he went to complain to my mom at her workplace that my dad was cursing at him to get in the hospital.

once he was nosey and opened up our mailbox, and when he found some letters addressed to my dad he slammed the pile of letters next to him on the sofa. wtf

god, its like no matter what my dad does he will NEVER be happy.

a while ago he lent his children money, and said oh its not lending hes giving them money with no strings attached, no interest at all. my dad took some for renovation, and this info will come into play later.

and so life continues on with his insistence to tidy and clean my house, with zero regards to anyones wishes. if someone so much as point out that he isnt doing something right, he would exaggerate his actions and ask and repeat.

heres the incident that triggered the Revelations:

my grandpa asked my sister if she still wanted a donut while holding it in his entire hand, as in his entire hand was clutched around the donut. visibly disgusted, my sister said no, she didnt want it. in an act of passive aggressiveness, he placed the donut and only the donut directly in the fridge. not on a plate no nothing.

my mom wrote him a note in response: my daughters are having national examinations soon, and my husband has to wake at 5am to go to work, and he doesnt have enough rest. it would be preferable if you do not make as much noise so they can study and rest properly. i am saying this here, it doesnt matter if you help with the chores or not, it is entirely up to you and we will not blame you if you choose to rest and watch tv instead. you will always have a meal and you dont need to worry about anything else. hope you can understand.

in response, he wrote back: i have read all your words, and there is no need to worry. from november, i will no longer be coming over. i want your husband to return me the renovation money. from: dumb dad (thats what he calls himself in notes)

first of fucking all: wow hes not even acknowledging that my dad is his son. second of all, hes using the money to control my parents and guilt them wtf

this incident got kinda big in the sense that my aunt got involved. my aunt, the golden child, called to stage an intervention.

she called my siblings and i privately, without my parents knowledge. she asked me:

‘are you aware that he has hearing issues and cannot tell that hes being loud?’

‘can you cope with his average noise level?’

‘is he actually disturbing you guys?’

of course i am aware. i am used to it. i am not sure why my mom wrote about the noisy part, could be the fact that he refused to let my dad rest. to which i answered:

‘yes i am aware, no he is not that noisy’

and in a nicer way, i told her ‘frankly the issue is his character, that he is a pos shit i cant stand and after knowing what he did to my parents especially my dad i dont want him in my life at all i dont want him to come over anyways’

‘how much would you say that its mostly his fault that there is conflict or is your dad making a big deal out of nothing?’

i bit my tongue and said its my grandpa 95% of the time. there are one or two occasions that i would say my dad is over reacting.

then she went on and on about how she has to balance both perspective and pick the best outcome, and there are two sides etc etc

what fucking two sides i wanted to ask. my parents literally did nothing wrong. he was the hand that clutched at the donut and squished it.

eventually, she yelled at him and to serious disappointment hes coming over again.

a little interlude about my aunt: she complained to my mom afterwards (im surrounded by snitches) that i am not very respectful about my grandpa, that i am lazy and didnt help around the house often (i tidied and cleaned my room frequently, and if my mom ask me to do chores i would. theres an agreement that i should just concentrate on my studies and she will take care of the chores). i stay in my room all the time and didnt come out when my relatives came over. (listen, theres nothing for me. my cousins are ur typical boys that i cant talk to, they hog the xbox and scream about fifa all the time, im not exactly interested in the adults conversations).

my mom defended me, yall. even my aunt has to concede that im a decent person.

and my mom told me she didnt actually agree with the way shes raising my cousins. they were told to never question my aunt and uncle, and their orders are orders. my parents didnt agree, they believed in reason. for everything they tell us to do, there is a legit reason behind it, and we can question them. my mom want us to do well so that she can prove that shes right all along.

my brother recall asking the cousins why my relatives didnt allow them to do certain things and they just shrugged.

well, thats a bet i am willing to participate in.

back to my grandpa.

my parents reasoning is that as compared to taking revenge and stop contacting him, they rather treat him decently no matter what, knowing deep down they has always did their best.

due to the way healthcare works here, my dad shouldered most of the hospital bill and healthcare when his parents were in the hospital. because #asianvalues, they never did thank him or appreciate him.

either my parents or my aunt said they are scared that if we do anything too drastic like refusing him to come here, he will go senile and demented. as he is now he has a clear enough mind to remain a dickbag to my dad.

well, i wasnt exactly close to him, or as close as he deluded himself to think. i wasnt exactly patient with him, in the sense that i kinda have to raise my voice to communicate with him pretty often. heres the complicated relationship between languages: he speaks mostly teochew, and some chinese. we are expected to understand him when he speaks chinese to get across something, but somehow when i speak my perfectly accurate chinese back at him he understands nothing. he will smile stupidly at me, nodding as if he understood.

you fake old man. you understood nothing. i dont want to bother. i am mean for saying this. i hate your pretenses. quit acting like you understand.the conversations between us are fruitless and useless and has zero point. just now, you saying while im eating dinner that ‘you should give me 50 dollars. look at me, i have nothing. ahahahahaha’

i ignored him, as my cold shoulders got colder.

‘your mother did give me $120, i actually have money. what a good girl’

just, what the fuck is he on about. why are you even asking me for money when you have it. this is the exact type of inane pointless conversations you have. i dont even want to dignify that with a response.

he went to my sister, 3 meters away from me, and said the exact same thing.

my sister: [turning her pockets inside out] i have no money

him, repeating what he said , and adding on ‘you are a good girl, your sister is bad, she didnt want to give me money’ 

what the fuck. hes still talking to us like we are 5. he always treat us like were 5. once i facepalmed and he told me not to do that i will give myself brain damage. i proceed to whack my forehead 4 times, each whack resounding loud and clear.

god, i really dont want to interact with him. theres guilt niggling at me that i shouldnt treat him like this, pretending he doesnt exist as much as possible. then i remember what he did to my dad, and also kinda my mom, and something in me says ‘he doesnt deserve a relationship with his grandchildren for treating his own son like this’.

god, how do i get him to understand that i dont want anything to do with him? that i hate him? i stop calling him ‘grandpa’, only referring to him as that. i dont greet him when he come over anymore.

a few days? weeks? ago he said as he walked out of my room: ‘i still love you the most.’

thats the problem aint it? favouritism. and we all know you favour my brother the most, which i dont mind. i want you to stop doting on me, i want you to pretend i dont exist too. not in the way where you blatantly talk and criticise someone to somebody in front of the person you are criticising. 

when is karma ever coming for you?

nothing but you mattered to you, you dipshit. you never cared about how others may feel. you always did things your own way, you treat people whatever the hell you want to.

i visited you in the hospital after the operation on your balls, you were so happy afterwards you gave me a $50. i still wish i hadnt visited, you disgusting person. i wish i can give you the $50 back, but i think, ill keep it. i will treat it as a woeful attempt to ‘reward’ me for my love and affections. i will keep the money knowing that your love is not returned. cruel of me, but so were you.

i dont think there will ever be a resolution. i wont cry at your funeral, i will try not to. i did for my grandma, but that was before i knew the truth.

my mom told me it is undeniable that my relatives all doted and loved me. i want to reject your love. i want the right to not be loved.