#two more days...then castle faggot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-firebird69 · 4 years

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and was sick yes. and heals now and is better too fat has a passneger and wow it is hell we are a mess and yes get destroyed a lot. tough times..we fall. and gunry is tommy f his enemy too. too hardon him we are has no avenue no recourse and we are way out there on others....so he did what he had to.now we want itbackhe says go ask a demon and politely...and i say no yuor not welcome put it in wrtng taeyou shop for your gay coments and dscrminatoin and more...and we say ok you holdthat..and i say nah. we issue papers. and i shalll Bitol sends them and his Goddess Wife..you use profanity near him ok. this is what it is intimidation and forced to go there.and they hold otehr places out macs nted daniel did..and tries and wrote it up today. they are terrors he is overun tommy f said cant get t back zpac tried two and ate well adnheals..tons say it out and in and out..and good. and thn days they will be on hm brush daily hourly..and they see and help they say by runiing his teeth this sucks we all sue you faggot your a dick too. up ther emessing iwth our ships. we ht you now. see it.ok. and we saw it outlinne it bililum say and send it now. first ad lst in line are ronnie james dio. and we see he uses our name so wehit he is not us in any way. and Gunray is at it and grabs here attract here ok this is jesus place and we use it and pull you in and we see he is humourous we fall easy then are noxous, and true. we are sorry we faied the monsters are at us and we dont thinnk they exist are stupid the disease too. and our tude ad its bad ai ad thats all reach self awareness and such...you cant bja no. it will see you..oh. ok. and youtwo then we know what to do...and then it is settled..what wil they do release and try controolling it with the code..hard yes..and difficult...we see it seal out hermetically and we do it...then we areoff andwatch you melt..your a faggot do you get it ityet...tried yourpatience for years builtyours upfor you yes...ok got it..and to a degree wedont want wecantsee...but ok we did. isee a few things..not much..oh well that is us...you were there fool you saw a laser poke out ffried you you felll yours destroyed...what he hell...ok we saw that and hold it...the fleetsmostly gone easily. alright we see..mostly gone. done easy..now i say it is mine but could be ghwb ando rjesus ou see bg the godof hellfire..yes aht is itnow the use stuff and you fallfro itok that works....Hoth and jessus the pyramid my old freind who hatesme bg...and we work togethe rnow and see how itgoes...ok ok we ttyr tommy f at us...and he is hot and draws usin. to many true yes forhim he is ugly too due toour chiding we ridehim hard he is getting brutal ifts pulls rips his are huge or his clan..so we run out there ok...see jesus shaul nad see what it does hmm maybe nothing...and tommy f runs in...now too to IItaly hs wife grabbed saw nute do it and he is not hiim...saw the look...and was embarrassed....and we saw it in vendetta too ken adds..and we hera you this sucs he s here doing that and thm. so we fight over it..daft ou are to draw mne here they want..nad wont and send deadly stuff. they the macs hold t and you all die daily where are theythey keep it up im told allover. and we see..this sucks they say and here. die daly huh you do....mac says well well it is the child how wonderful your here for class it is 22 minutes then you step off into lava why you suck so bad..your hstory you see no need for us to be here physcially and years ago yet you do iit dayly hourly secondly and with purpose no you dont know why now...i see we donttrue it si for that and to lose ad we arego see a ball idiot ad none we thnk so good we see we suced to long cor supplies hte suckng nd not thevery he forced it and yeh overboard too..so we face t we are shitty adn suck and eep itup.now too. all the whle we lose it all...and hope wont come uness we try failed mserably and on a bg move...tons see it us working you to hate and then you turn on us are smart we cant stop you wont tyr no we do and it is wrong nd ths sucks we are at the whim of cork...mac says. we fght too are at it here and he says it it happens we get that on me ok off..no so you opeed your mouth asshole as he did you leed in fuc we send it all after younow toddler...and we do Thor says tons and all of it we take it all your out cork f off... we pull your card all over he ordered it it is on you bully us you cheesy dick your done slow poe shit wantst to call me names so i hit his areas hard. any who wnt to join me do so clear tag and blast it to hell...now...and we shall wehave orders now. we go to it Duke Nukem Blockbuster ad we hear it too why not offmy case he is sucha dweeb stole my teensy stuff obstructs money and we reward Bitol and Goddess Wife and see hsi work it is stupdendous...and we seehis work up and yours too his race...tons do and it is Frank Castle Hardcastle as well as Duke Nukem Blockbuster....we head in they run out there are late lame and useless yes...but the empire has tons up and tommy f tries to say he is justin nope yoiur out buddy...hit us you die...he doesn now they are at him. and the senate was called and she went again, no will though. and for them to lose so she says and we agree. his are lame. so we see need forg in and they wont so we help and cork is a fool as always.... and we hit them now. they pour in. cork does and you should see it wonderful loser he is..bouncing about and trhey laguh theri gay laugh and it is funny to hear they die so easy. fall and die and run die. and are at it too get hiit fast. useless in combat mostly but we fight a hug force and needrobots ours are defunct or not here andso on.it i s jesus hwo they need to ht so f ire up the lasers hit morlock ships and then direct them to therobots taking the gems and stones..they see it and are at it now..and we use it. they seekme for the woman and will try hard . got well and to hit these suck so badly...do yes. and pour into tunis and italy in waves of several nonillion an area...take it and tey do and lose and we are there fighting too and as Darth Maul and hit hard have several stars up and fire on them and draw and use it and run a pattern now...tons see no. we are hittinghard fast and solid replace Starz on occasion. tons see huge able bodied men fring giant weapons into crowds of corks ad eliminating them fast. tons of thems ay planned ti and yes saw who nute gunray was saw they used me her husband as cover..and we use it now too hs racism to win...and we hit you now due to your idiocy. yoru a fag loserand die now ok. and off to venus lol. so. we hit you hear you too you expose your father again. and we hit you freak. you fn freak cork we hity ou anakin and ilike to say he named you but w edid you act like annie but worse. you faggot. so we ht you ok..blab bqb we see you fall easy weht your clonnig oiu fn shithead i like him hateyou..no he is an Immortal not us. you are us and should not evoke any uyuo do it all the time you faggot forg ad his an you faggot...so im a fagot..boy oh boy you sure get it bja you ninny sht...silence hahaha silence or what you will die on me...ok itis funy i get rouwdy..nah your a stinkin snake think it is an excuse..for the house and such...casl we see that orhter clans are there if he falls likemike daniel and macs own....prob run it as this is hilarious...float tommy but need in andneed out of mental health wehre you rot tommy you are exposed as we nneed but are selfish adn spoiled. and im sharper no but say it more confident see his work adn others catch up.....Hera says.. and she is awesome huh she is i say and others..wow and spunk and he doesnt do a thnig but egotarian stuff lol and use it ok lol and lose it no but ok she was taught, he is one ad she does a lot of wor and we see it hod off the kkey for k and we say that and you die now you siimple shts there..we see why macs take t over and hell. so it makes sense yes. gunray has her and more of them. and has trump. and we use it and take his fleet and thryms noise maker goes tongth now ok we take it out. tons say it it is a weapon. tons . and weant it or himout. now. fast too...he wll yell and ten out lot will go fast too long this sat hard here and amped up sh stuff too. we use it and report in and make suggestions now. and he is relievedhimtoo waht a bear handleing but need mroe of all stuff..now in all here. we need to do this now. here is important we are coming in. i can remotely doing it and have a way.. yes you know Hera says to me Zues Thor Freya

https://www.starwars.com/video/gunray-s-prisoner

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dontdietwd · 4 years

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until day 308

So this motherfucking life tried to break me.

You bitch.

This fucking fate or destiny wanted me down. Kicking me down a deep well to find rock bottom and throwing shit on top of me to bury me down there.

Well guess what.

Jack’s mom wasn’t going to say down there. Jack’s mom might hurt and cry, because she’s human and would never not be, but she just wouldn’t fucking stop.

I’d rebuild using that fucking rock bottom as the bedrock of the castle I was going to build.

So every day I would wake up with the sun, wash my face, drink strong coffee and go out there. With the shaved head, with the non-extended belly and without a baby in my arms. But I went out there, head high, crossbow hanging from my back, and I worked my ass off. I ran the Village, I went outside, I killed walkers, I scavenged, I took my guard shifts, I made decisions, I oriented the others, heard their opinions and ideas, went back home, washed up and started it all over again next morning.

And I’d smoke a lot of cigarettes. And I’d constantly crave for a drink.

While I was gone, Michonne had stepped up as the leader and she’d done a wonderful job. Things kept on going as planned, the chicken coop Morales had planned was done, now all we needed was birds, and he had started building the wall inside the hedge. There was a huge pile of bricks at a corner of the Village, cement, sand, all he works. It would be slow because we didn’t have enough people, but it’d get done.

Michonne and Merle had gotten even closer and were great friends now. Andrea had been hanging out a lot with Will and she liked Ma’s company. Ma had been sick lately, nothing specific. She was simply ninety-eight. I spent days thinking about having a conversation with Will and Mikki about her. If she passed away on her sleep or something like that and nobody saw it… She was going to turn.

I’m not even sure how I knew this. I’d seen D dying from a stab and turning, I’d seen many walkers wandering without a visible bite mark, so I was pretty much sure anyone who died would turn.

Although Jack never did.

Thank the Gods I didn’t even really believe in.

But I thought there was a strong possibility Ma would turn when she passed and we’d all have to know how to act in this case. I needed to talk to them.

But I hadn’t yet. It was sensitive and I was running from it. I started going out there alone again, with the same old excuse of looking for signs of Daryl and the group. I did look for signs; I did… But I was lying. To everyone, to myself. There was a laundromat on a little town nearby and in there I had created myself a little hideaway. To myself, to be alone and mourn and hurt without anyone seeing it. And to drink. I had hidden bottles there and I controlled myself, never got too drunk, or so I thought. It’s the mentality of the addict, always thinking we’re in control, always believed it’s no harm, it’s just a little drink, no problem. I’d return home after a few hours and nobody noticed, so why should I have to stop? Everything was fine, I was in control.

What I didn’t see, couldn’t ready understand then, was that when I was drinking the thoughts in my mind were always terrible. It made me feel worse, it made the pain even more painful, instead of numbing me, it made me think terrible things, when I slept under the effect of the alcohol my dreams were disturbing, full of walkers, Daryl turned, Michonne and Merle turned, Jack in my arms trying to bite me. It was awful, but my addicted mind could not understand that taking another shot to forget those images did not work at all. So I kept on.

Merle knew something was up. He may not know exactly, but the way he’d been looking at me with suspicious eyes was clear. He knew something was wrong. I mean, still wrong. Or maybe he was just worried because it hadn’t been long since I lost my baby, so I was obviously not fine.

One day he told me now I knew how to shoot with the crossbow and was good at it, I could take a step further and learn how to hunt, maybe even track. He’d been the one responsible for going hunting once a week bringing us all any kind of animals he could find, and he said it would be good to have someone else able to do it in the group. He was right. As I leader I should have thought about it.

So we were on the woods, Honey tracking in front of us, smelling everything and very attentive. We were silent for a long time, tracking something he had detected but I hadn’t been able to see, and Merle, even still tracking, kept looking at me and starting to say something but stopping himself. It was so unlike him that I knew something was up, and feared he was going to talk about my continuing drinking. But it eventually got to my nerves and I had to ask.

“Alright, Merle, what is it?” I said as I stopped and lowered my crossbow to the ground.

He stopped too, fished a pack of Morley’s from his pocket, offered me one, lit his own and then reached with the lighter to light mine.

“Ya know I ain’t smart, right?” he started

“Why do you say that?”

“Things I just can’t wrap my head around…” he looked far into the woods as he spoke. “Like Mikki.”

Well, that I wasn’t expecting.

“Mikki?”

“Yeah… Says she’s a girl but ya can see she ain’t a girl. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Ya can’t understand that?”

“Nope. Knew my whole life that if ya got a dick, you a man, if ya got a pussy, you a girl. That is ya wanna be the other way ‘round, you a freak.”

“Yeah, you’ve known wrong then.”

“But how?” he asked turning to me, and I could see his question was genuine. “How can Mikki says she a girl if she got a dick down there?”

“Well… I don’t know how to explain it, maybe she’d be the best one to do it. But just think it like that: you know you’re a man. Right?” he nodded the obvious answer. “And you’ve always known you a man, nobody had to tell you, you knew it since you was a little boy. Never had a question ‘bout that. And you know that, like, inside, you don’t have to look down and see a dick to know you’re a man. Right?” he nodded again. “But now imagine being this sure ‘bout it, but looking in the mirror and seeing the body of a woman. But in your head you know you’re a man, but what you were born with is different from what you know, from what you’ve always known your whole life.”

He shook his head, confused, “Nah, can’t see that happening.”

“You can’t see, but tons of other people can. Don’t matter if you don’t see, Merle. Mikki is a girl and she knows she’s a girl since forever, but something went different and she was born with a boy’s body. It’s wrong for her, her body don’t match her head, her soul, ya know what I mean? She is a girl, no matter what the register said when she was born, no matter that they yelled ‘it’s a boy!” when she was born. It being there make no difference. You’d still feel like a man if you, god forbid, lost yours, wouldn’t’ you?”

“Don’t even say somethin’ like that!”

“You know what I mean, Merle. A dick or a pussy don’t make a person a man or a woman. It’s all in the head.”

“But… It’s there, ain’t it?”

“Yep. I don’t know, it’s probably there, I don’t think she had it removed before the apocalypse. I’ll never ask either, it’s too intimate,” he said nothing, was just thoughtful smoking his cigarette. “Merle?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you like her?”

He threw to cigarette to the ground and turned to walk, “I ain’t no faggot.”

“Merle, stop,” he did and turned to me again. “You ain’t, I know that. She’s a girl. You’re just a man who likes a girl.”

He turned to walk again, saying nothing, thoughtful.

“Does she know? Something’s happening between you two?”

“Think she does. Think she likes me too.”

“Then it’s a good thing, Merle,” I said smiling I was happy for him. Merle was overcoming a lot from his past. His prejudices, his racism, his homophobia. He was changing for the better, had already all those months, but now it was more. He liked someone and this was huge for a man like Merle. “Just don’t go breaking her heart, alright?”

* * *

I made a mistake.

I should have never kept on drinking in the first place, but that goes without saying. It was obvious that I should have stopped it again, I’d done it once, I could do it again. I could and I should. And every day, even as I drank, I knew it was bad for me. I knew my thoughts got fuzzy and way too negative under the effect. My dreams were terrible nightmares of everyone in the Village turned, Merle, Michonne, Andrea, all trying to eat me. Daryl, Carol, Glenn, Lori, all dead and invading the Village and the constant cry of a baby in the background, and I looked for him as I tried to escape the dead and couldn’t find him. I’d wake up heavy hearted, which made me want to drink more, which made the dreams even worse, and the thoughts in my head even when I was sober were dark and hopeless. So drinking was bad for me, for my mind, for my body, bad for everyone and everything, but I just kept on.

But that day, my mistake was to bring the booze I’d gathered into the Village. I brought it home, hidden among my personal stuff, and I drank at a night I wouldn’t be on watch.

And I obviously lost control.

My house was still isolated from the others. I had moved from the one I’d given birth in, and chosen an even farther one. It was nearly on the back of the Village, still near the lake as the other one had been. It was a nice area, trees all around, birds, the water. The kind of place I had always wanted for me before it all happened, and now I had it. But the fact that it was away from the others’ made me too comfortable and I got drunk in there, sure nobody would notice.

But they did. Michonne came first to check on me because I apparently had turned on some loud music, and there was nothing wrong with listening to some music in the Village as long as it wasn’t loud enough it could he heard outside the walls. If it could be heard outside, walkers would come, people could come.

It was a huge mistake. I put them all in danger, our home, our Village, the safety of my people.

But somehow, I think it had to happen. I needed Michonne to find me drunk at the house. I needed her to call Andrea and Merle. I needed them to see me like this, I needed their help. I needed help and I didn’t even know it.

It just had to happen.

They cleared my house of any alcohol, put me under a cold shower, told me off, and kept careful watch over me for the next few weeks. I wasn’t allowed to go outside alone anymore and I hated it in the beginning. I craved a drink and couldn’t have it. I fought with them, told them to leave me alone, said they had nothing to do with it, that they had no right controlling me like this.

But they saved me.

Merle understood well. He’d been though it in the few months after the hand incident in Atlanta. He’d gone through withdrawal from alcohol and drugs and he knew how I felt. He was not a patient care provider, though. He was more of a tough love kind of guy. Andrea was sweeter, but Michonne… She’d been disappointed.

And that’s what hurt the most. My very best friend got disappointed at me and this hit me hard. This is what made me, after the first few terrible days, understand what I’d done and understand the need of what they were doing for me. I talked to her, apologized, made promises all over again. But she knew promises meant nothing, I’d broken them before.

Over a week into it, Merle came to my place. I’d been pacing, making even Honey distressed. I asked him to leave me alone because I was not a good company then, I was aching for a drink, but he didn’t leave, shaking a bit, heart pounding. Instead, he sat on my couch, took something from his pocket, and lit it.

A joint.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Lightin’ up a joint, what ya think?”

“Have you been smoking?”

“Found this stash a few days ago. Little country home with a dead plantation in the back. Lots of it, years’ worth if we don’t let’em dry.”

“Merle… What?”

“What?” he looked up at me. “You saying you’re against it? Can have all the booze and be addicted to it, not function right without alcohol, but weed is bad? Weed’s what will do ya harm?”

I had no answer. It had been years since I had a joint, but I knew it was never as bad as alcohol. Or any other drug, for that matter. I’d liked it once, but never even got addicted to it. Drinks and other drugs, yeah. They were the ones that nearly destroyed my life, but nothing bad had ever happened after smoking a joint.

“Ya an addict, Sam,” he told me in all seriousness. “Ya can’t go anywhere to get treated. Ya can’t make therapy. Can’t go to a meeting every time ya need some. Ya hear me out, if ya smoke a joint now, ya gonna relax. This think ya feeling now? Will get numbed and will go away with time.”

“Ain’t that just exchanging a drug for another?” I still rebated even as I sat down on the couch by his side.

“Ya damn right it is. But at least it won’t do you too much harm. Ya gonna smoke one at night after a long day, relax, laugh, eat a lot and fall asleep. If ya gotta have somethin’ because you’re too damn used to have some substance in your system, at least won’t be much of a bad one.”

Did it make sense or was it just my addicted mind wanting to believe it?

Merle took a long drag of it, holding it in for a moment and then started couching like crazy. I had to laugh. What a pro!

“Fuck you, it’s been a while!” he said when he could and saw me laugh at him.

“Are you sure about this, Merle?”

“Ya do what ya want. I ain’t saying it’s the best solution, is just the least worse, is all.”

“I can’t do this… Michonne –”

“Is the one who suggested it in the first place when we found it. She ain’t no dimwit, Darlin’. She knows this ain’t as bad for you or anybody as alcohol.”

And then he handed it to me. I hesitated for a moment, but I knew he was right. Weed had been smoked since the beginning of humanity’s ability to plant stuff, thousands of years. The prohibition of it was recent, but not it’s usage. If this made me stop craving for a drink, it would help me get clean. I mean, as clean as someone is when smoking weed.

So I took it. Probably not the best solution, but it was a solution.

It turned out that, that night, I didn’t crave a drink anymore. At least that night, I calmed down, wasn’t shaking anymore, and my thoughts got lighter. No negativity about never seeing Daryl again. No pain for Jack’s loss. Just good memories, just Daryl’s voice calming me down, just Jack’s cute little hand clutching my finger. Just the good parts of the little while I’d had with him. And when I fell asleep – after Merle and I drowned in a family size pack of Cheetos – I didn’t have a nightmare. No dreams at all, just slept long and deep and woke up still feeling sleepy, but simply fine.

And I hadn’t felt fine in a very, very long time.

* * *

Merle and I were hunting. I had finally been able to pick up an animal trail myself and we were following it. I wasn’t sure what it was and Merle refused to tell me, because he obviously knew what it was. Honey was with us, silent on her paws, sniffing and attentive to all around us all. I had had a lot of success in training her. She’d come to me and be silent at a short whistle, sit by my side and stay put at a hand gesture, look for threats at a low, long whistle and relax and be free to play around at a click of my tongue.

And it was her who warned us someone was around. She froze by my side, eyes fixed somewhere high up a tree, completely still, just one short low growl to get my attention. Looking up, our weapons ready without even knowing why, Merle and I saw the ruins of a hunting platform. We couldn’t see anyone, but Honey knew for sure there was someone. My crossbow pointed up, Merle with a loaded pistol, we exchanged a look. We couldn’t keep walking and pass under the tree to the risk of getting attacked.

“We know you’re up there!”, I said and my voice echoed in the woods. “We mean no harm, just passing my, hunting some food. Will you show yourself?”

There was silence. Whoever was up there had surely heard me, but was keeping hidden. This could either mean it was someone really scared of people who just wanted us to go away, or a threat, someone who’d attack and try to rob and kill us.

“We just want to pass by knowing you won’t attack us, alright?” I kept on. “Come on, show yourself.”

It took a few more seconds, long ones, but they did. A boy who looked barely eighteen poked his head out of the platform, a rifle in hand pointing down at us, looking repeatedly to Merle and I.

“Good, thank you,” I told him. “You alone up there?”

“Yes!” he answered really fast and I knew it was probably a lie. “I don’t have stuff, so please just leave us alone!”

See? He wasn’t alone.

“Us?”

“Me! Leave me alone!”

“Hey, it’s alright. We don’t wanna rob you. I told you, we’re just hunting out here.”

“Go on, then!”

“And how do we know you ain’t shooting and robing us? Not taking the chance, kid.”

“You say ya don’t got stuff?” Merle said by my side. “Mean ya hungry?”

Oh, so proud of Merle! The old Merle I knew from before would never ask anyone that. He just wouldn’t care, but this Merle did.

“Why you ask?”

“If you’re hungry we can get you something,” I told him. “But we won’t if you don’t put your gun down.”

“Why would you help us? Nobody helps anymore these days!”

“Not nobody, kid,” I told him, my arms hurting a bit from pointing the crossbow up and steady. “We been hungry. Been there, alright?”

“Why should we trust you?”

Merle was the one to answer “Alright, I can see you gone through some shit, kid. You’re right in not trustin’ people, good thing these days. But we both down here got ya on our aims and ya not even hiding right, coulda shot ya between the eyes three times by now. What’s that tell ya?”

He hesitated and didn’t lower his rifle. Quietly, I told Merle to keep his own pointed at him and lowered my weapon. The kid’s attention picked up at that, as I rested my crossbow to the ground, removed my backpack and crouched down to open it. I had water and a packed lunch I’d brought from home, some real cooked food. I got up and help it on his sight.

“We’re offering you food, real food. Now, please, lower your weapon for once and come down or you won’t have it, simple like that.”

He wanted to believe us but hesitated and I admired him for that. It was good not to trust people easily these days and I knew it quite well. After a moment he did lower his rifle and by my side Merle visibly relaxed. I patted honey’s head to calm her down a little but didn’t tell her it was fine to relax. He disappeared from our sight for a moment and them we saw him star to climb down the stairs, and he really wasn’t alone. There was a girl with him, just a child who kept hidden behind him all the time.

These were David and Emma, brother and sister who’d been on the road with their two uncles after their mother died on the first few days of the outbreak. They had been robbed of everything weeks before and, when the men tried to react, they were killed. David and Emma had to watch all of it when they hid on top of a tree, or they’d have been doomed as well. Emma didn’t say a word, too scared to speak even as Merle and I led hem both back to the Village with us.

Our family was slowly growing.

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a-place-for-me-au · 5 years

Text

A PLACE FOR ME : CHAPTER 1

Summary: September 2nd, 2019. First day of freshman year.

Trigger Warnings: Cursing, homophobic slur (as joke), bullying (mentioned), homophobia (mentioned), depression, deadnaming, violence, food

Characters: Deceit, Roman, Remus, Patton, Virgil, Logan, Remy

(mentioned) Corbin, Sloane

Words: 5770

AO3

CHAPTER 1 |

Notes: Big thanks to @missfay49 for being an amazing beta reader!

VIRGIL

Monday. The air was crisp, the leaves had started to turn, but still the grass was fresh and green. I set my eyes to the ground, but I still felt the heat of bodies moving around me. My eyes flitted across the faces of people I may have known years ago. My eyes returned to the ground and I saw the grass. Most of it was bright and green, but soon I found underwatered patches. The dew however, made the bright grass brighter. As I glanced back up, my heart was beating a little fast, I guess. Last time I was in school, I got beat up, and nearly sent to the hospital. Maybe now it would be a little different. I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets and walked into the cold, uninviting school.

PATTON

September 2nd. The leaves were golden and the air was shiny and bright, with cold light making the colors morph into something else. The trees loomed overhead. It wasn’t quite cold enough for the sweater I was wearing, but the heavy, knitted sweater kept me safe and held. I had never been to school, and I didn’t know what to expect. I’ve seen a handful of movies about high school, but, to be honest, I never cared much about movies. The looming building seemed tall and intimidating in front of me. The people all seemed tall and intimidating. I stared at the ground and imagined that instead of hoards of hormonal teenagers, I was surrounded by animals of the forest. Deer, rabbits, frogs, birds...

DEE

The second of September, the first day of school. It was just another day, and yet, the gold in the leaves was all the more noticeable. A chilly breeze grazed my skin, and I put up a hand to the burned half of my face. I didn’t care about it, and no one else did, and yet, the idea someone might find it wrong never left my head. I stared up at the grey building, framed by a grey morning sky.

ROMAN

Monday, on the second of September, in the year 2019. The tall sweeping trees, dotted with browns and vivid oranges swayed in the light fall breeze. The green of the grass, while not as vibrant as in the intense summer months, was still vivid, especially when juxtaposed against the cold cement surrounding the school. The school, a grey, uninviting building with bars on the doors, felt grand and mysterious. The grey bricks made me think of great castles of villains. I sighed. I took a glance at my brother Remus, but quickly looked down at the ground. I’d barely slept last night. I’d finally gone to sleep at the foot of my brother’s bed somewhere around five in the morning, my face wet from tears. It had been a tough week so far, but at this moment, I felt nothing.

REMUS

It was Monday, September 2nd. The trees twisted over the concrete, and I gazed up at their colorful leaves that had just started to change. The grass was still bright and colorful, and full of vibrancy. Feelings dashed through the air like leaves falling from trees. I could feel excitement, fear, worry, boredom and dozens more emotions flitting through students minds. I could feel my brother Roman beside me. The school loomed over, highlighted against the bright grey sky. I imagined spikes coming from the top of the grey prison and skipped forward, putting a bright smile on my face. Time to make some impressions!

LOGAN

Mon. 02/09/2019. The trees lining the concrete pathway to the school were starting to turn brown. Some leaves had already fallen. However, the grass was still green. The school was simple and plain. It was blank and gray, with grates over the windows. A feeling of anticipation was welling up in my chest, and while I hesitated to call it excitement, the idea of learning new things was...inviting.

VIRGIL

I took a deep breath. It’s this or get dead named in front of your entire class.

“Excuse me, is this 204? Mr. Johnson’s room?” I asked, hanging off the doorframe. A tall man with dark, wrinkled skin and a bright, grey beard looked at me and beckoned me to his desk.

“I am Mr. Johnson. What can I help you with? Class doesn’t start for another twenty minutes.” His face had a quizzical expression, and he placed his head on his fist.

I pushed my hands deep into my pockets, reaching for some security. “Um, see...well, it’s about… my, um, like my name.” I took a deep breath. I could feel my hands shaking. Would you really rather be doing this in front of the entire class? “My name is Virgil.” I blurted.

He gave me a strange look, then pulled out his roster sheet. “Um, let me see if you’re on here…”

“I’m not.” I swallowed. “I came because,” My head felt light. “My name is, um, Virgil Ancell.” I took a deep breath.

In, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four.

“My legal name is, um,” It had been a while since I’d used it. “Amelia.” I said quietly.

“Well! Nice to meet you Virgil, I’ll be sure to make note of that, I wouldn’t want to use the wrong name for someone.” I smiled, I was still shaking, but I felt more grounded.

Now I just have to do that six more times.

I took a seat near the front and laid back, pulling a fidget cube out and fiddling with it. Mr. Johnson continued working on something. “Hey kid, Virgil.” I look up. “Do you think you could put a syllabus on each desk? There’s, one sec, uh, 27 students, so…” He counted out several sheets of paper. I placed my cube in my pocket and walked to the desk. He handed me the papers. “Just, yeah, put them on the desks, thanks kid.” I smiled, and did as asked.

Some time passed, after I’d put syllabi on all the desks, and kids started to filter in. I pulled my hood over my head and looked down. Mr. Johnson shot me a look. “No hoods.” He said, looking at me. I took it off, and immediately regretted it. I could feel the stares, I swore.

I heard people talking under their breath.

“Who’s the new kid?”

“I don’t know, but he seems emo as hell.”

“Seriously though, we haven’t had a new student in years, do you think they moved here?”

I sunk into my seat and gazed lazily at the door when a short, round person walked in the room. They held their head low, keeping their eyes on the ground. They had short, curly, golden hair, and large, round glasses. Their cheeks were rosy and covered in freckles. They were wearing a white tank top and a knee-length blue skirt.

Heads turned. They shone like the sun, their footsteps soft, eyes sparkling. Just seeing them was like breathing in a bouquet of sweet-smelling roses. The room got physically brighter as they sat in the front row, right in front of me. Their presence was like an angel come to sit on Earth.

Suddenly, a tall guy with dark hair and sunglasses sat on the desk next to me. He was wearing a white shirt, a leather jacket, and some short jean-shorts.

“Hey.” He said, a nonchalant look on his face.

I looked down. I was scared. No way around it. I was in a new environment, and I was scared. “Hi.” I said meekly.

“I don’t know you. What’s your name? And you too, pretty boy.” He looked at the soft boy in a skirt. The boy looked at him, and then at me.

“I’m… Virgil.” He gave me a look like he’d seen a ghost.

“Oop. Welp, what’s up, kid. Name’s Remy. You might remember me.”

Remy.

My heart beat fast. Looking now, I recognized him. Those eyes, the eyes that stared me down every day of my life. That voice that would tease and ridicule me. Memories of being called a dyke, a faggot, of my head being dunked in the toilet of the boy’s bathroom.

‘Go back to the girl’s room, Amelia. Amelia. You were such a pretty girl.’

“I should let you know I’ve changed a lot.” He was awkwardly rubbing his neck. “After you left, I got put in my place.” There was a moment. I didn’t know what to say--I couldn’t say anything.

“Well hon, “ he said, breaking the silence, “That’s too much to unpack.” He took a deep breath and turned to the boy at the front.

“Now you, pretty boy.”

I looked down. This was… Remy? But he was so… awful. I looked at him, refusing to believe someone could change like that. But maybe. Maybe they can.

I moved my seat a few inches away from him.

PATTON

The first few minutes went great! People are already starting to talk to me! I think they’re being genuine. I don’t know.

The boy… Remy. I didn’t know what to do. Should I tell him my name? Why is he calling me pretty boy? Is that normal? I was confused.

“You there, kid?” He waved his hand in front of my face. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“I’m… Patton.” I said shyly. He reached out his hand to shake mine, but then the bell rang, and class started.

Class passed by quickly. I wasn’t sure of everything, I’d never been to public school, but it was somehow a lot easier than I expected.

Finding the rooms wasn’t that difficult. There were five floors, and the room number corresponded to the floor. 501, for example, was in the northeast of the fifth floor.

That didn’t make switching classes any easier. I was tossed around like a bouncing ball at the beach by the waves of students making their way to each class. In the forest, everything is calm and peaceful. There’s more than enough space for everyone. In the hallways between classes? It’s a thundering storm, paired with a flood.

The day went on uneventfully. Mostly, teachers were giving out syllabi and setting rules. We got a bit of homework for English, but that was just to check on all of our reading levels.

English had been quite nice actually. The teacher, Ms. Green, passed out the syllabi for the class, as well as a few pages of a story. It was just a simple exercise, to see how long it took us as a class to get a reading activity. It was an excerpt from one of my favorite books: The Secret Garden. I’d read it a thousand times over. Well, I’d read a lot of books a thousand times over.

I was walking through the halls towards the cafeteria, reflecting on the day when I was suddenly I was thrown from my thoughts when I found myself tripping and falling into someone. I could feel their hands grip my arms, and they pulled me up. I looked up into deep, dark brown eyes. He had reddish brown hair and a cocky smile.

Well I knew I wasn’t straight, but in the name of all that is good, gosh darn it. Am. I. Gay.

I could feel my face getting red. It’s my first day and I’ve already tripped and fallen right into the arms of a frickin’ prince.

I tried to right myself, and force out an apology. “My goodn--oh my--geez--I am--so sorry. Are, I, uh, hurt? Are you, um, hurt did I--”

“It’s cool.” He gave me a smile like the goddamn sun was shining in my face.

“I’m am so I am sorry.”

He chuckled, then he looked at me closer. “You’re new. Did you just move to Marshfield?”

“I was-- um, homeschooled. I’ve always lived here, well, near, I technically don’t live in the, uh city, I--uh--town limits. I live just outside. Near the, uh the forest. I live, um, across the river.” I realized I had been staring a hole into his face and I quickly looked down, blushing. I noticed he was wearing a white and red letterman jacket and jeans.

“Then I can see why you’re so nervous. I shouldn’t keep you waiting for your next class.”

“I um, it’s cool, I, uh, it’s my lunch.”

“Oh yeah?” He said.

I smiled, trying to seem a little stable. He was tall. Really tall. At least a head taller than me. “Hey, want to come join my and my table? To be honest I don’t know if there will be a seat but, if there is, you can chill with us.”

Should I accept this? Will I be rude if I don’t? Is there some sort of unspoken conversation going on?

“Well, I, um I wouldn’t want to,” I paused. “Impose on your, uh, friend group.” Will this work?

“It’s cool, I’ll just see if there’s any extra seats?” The guy said. I nodded, I mean, I didn’t know how else to respond.

“By the way, what’s your name?” He said, walking towards the cafeteria.

“Patton.” I said shyly.

“Alright, come on Patton, I’m Roman.” As Roman walked, another boy came out of the crowd. He had the same face as Roman, but he was thin. He had a light mustache and heavy eye bags. However, probably the most noticeable thing about him was his bright green, embroidered, floral patterned shirt with ruffles on his shoulders.

“I’m Remus, the sexiest man you’ll ever meet.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Roman turned around to playfully slap him. He turned back to me.

“He’s my twin.”

When we got to the cafeteria, I could see the tables were small, and could each fit eight people. I followed him to a table near the back of the room where someone was waving. Once we got closer, I saw it was Remy, from my first period.

“Hey, pretty boy.” Said Remy with a wink.

“Shut up Remy, he’s new. Besides, you wouldn’t want Dee to hear you.” Roman said.

“Someone say my name?” A tall kid turned towards Roman. A scar, which seemed like an old burn, covered half his face, and stretched down his neck. He was wearing a black button down shirt, and, to my surprise, a black cape that went halfway down his back, trimmed with yellow. He also wore a black bowler.

“Yo, Ro, I don’t think we have enough seats, ‘cause I’m pretty sure Corbin has this lunch period too.” Said Remus as he looked around the table.

“Ah, shit. Well, I hope you find an empty table, you’re always welcome here if one of us doesn’t show up.” Roman gave a sympathetic smile.

Great, first day, and I’ve already embarrassed myself in front of the hottest guy in the school.

I scanned the cafeteria, searching for an empty table. I saw one in the corner near the kitchen, with only two people at it. Upon approaching, I saw it was one of the kids from my first period class. What was his name? V-- I couldn’t remember.

“Can I sit here?”

The boy from first period--Virgil!-- looked up, and then to the other person. The boy, who had well groomed, dark hair, and thick square glasses, looked at me and shrugged. He was wearing a black button down shirt, and a blue tie. I took a seat so that we were of equal distance from each other. I was unsure if I was supposed to talk to them in this situation, so I looked down at my food and decided to let them do the initiating.

DEE

“Dee!” A body crashed into me as I was walking down the hall, and a pair of arms latched onto my torso. I feel a light peck on my neck, then I hear the ice of a Starbucks cup.

“Hey, Remy.” I turned around as soon as Remy released me.

“Oh hon, you look fine. That’s one hell of a cape.” I looked down at my questionable clothing choice.

“The extreme tends to make an impression.”

“Ooh, he’s hot, fearless, and a Heathers fan? I might be in love.”

“Oh, shut up, Remy. Do you know what table we’re sitting at?”

“Not yet,” he linked arms with me and started to walk, “but Roman said to meet him and Remus in the cafeteria during breakfast to coordinate. You know, lunch periods and all that jazz.”

I nod. “The cafeteria is on the top floor?”

“Sure is, hon.”

We made our way to the top floor, Remy saying hi to about five dozen people as we walked past.

“Do you know everyone in the school?”

“Hon, I know everyone in this town.”

Remy might not get all As, (in fact, one A was an accomplishment) and he didn’t always know how to read emotions, and he wasn’t great at solving problems, but if there was one thing he was smart in, was names. He knew every name he’d ever been told, he claims. And it wasn’t just people he’d met; actors, singers, bands, he was a genius. He knew everyone in the school, even if they weren’t friends.

“Hey Jack, honey, looking gay!” He said, knocking his voice up an octave.

“You too!” He winked.

Another thing Remy was? Gay. Some people are gay, but Remy was not satisfied with that, no. Every had to know. He was up and out and proud.

It’s kind of funny, he use to bully all the gay kids, or the trans kids. His parents were never accepting, and I guess he used to bottle up a lot of internalized homophobia…

“Ooh hon, stop doing your head monologue and say hi to Roman!” He said when we got into the cafeteria.

Roman, hot as ever, and at least a few inches taller.

“What it do, faggots and Roman.” Remy said.

“Uh, rude much.” Remy released my arm and ran up to squeeze Roman. Not letting go of him, Remy leaned back. “Man, you are a hunk.”

“Well, I spent the last three months working out everyday. I guess puberty finally set in.”

“Oh, and you got a little fuzz! You are a man, hon.” He gasped, and let go of Roman.

“Remus! You got a mustache, and you are rocking that top. Dee, get over here.” I walked around Roman. Remus was wearing a frilly shirt, green with a floral pattern embroidered on.

“Hoo, I feel underdressed.” I smirked, fiddling with my cape.

Soon I felt Remus’s arms wrap around me. “Hey noodle.”

I giggled. “Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Aww, my little angry noodle.”

I rolled my eyes, but I felt warm inside.

“Come on, guys, I’m going to show you the table.” Roman said, walking through the lunchroom. Remus let go of me. There was a table in the back corner, complete with Corbin, Sloane, Kai, and Elliot already sitting there. “Everyone, time to compare rosters.”

I found out I didn’t share many classes with the gang, but I was in the same lunch period as the rest of the table. After we were all satisfied, we caught up until the bell rang, and we were off to classes.

***

The classes passed uneventfully, and soon it was lunchtime.

When Roman walked in, there was a short boy in tow.

He had round glasses, but they didn’t distract from his glittering blue eyes. His steps were dainty and small, and still somehow graceful and sweeping. His head was held low, and he couldn't have been more than five foot, but when he walked in, the entire room was at his fingertips.

I could feel light and warmth filling the room. I looked around and found half the cafeteria with their jaws to the floor staring. I could swear a melody was playing in my head as the boy followed Roman to our table.

“Shut up Remy, he’s new. Besides, you wouldn’t want Dee to hear you.” Roman said.

“Someone say my name?” I said, breaking my stare to look at Roman.

“Yo, Ro, I don’t think we have enough seats, ‘cause I’m pretty sure Corbin has this lunch period too.” Said Remus as he looked around the table. My head processed the situation, and then my heart sank a little. The Literal Angel would not be sitting with us, he would have to find some other seat.

“Ah, shit. Well, I hope you find an empty table, you’re always welcome here if one of us doesn’t show up.” Roman gave a sympathetic smile.

I wanted to offer up my seat, but before I could form the words, the boy had shuffled off to another table.

ROMAN

“We’re meeting everyone in the cafeteria because apparently I’m the leader of this friend group and I have to decide where we sit.”

Me and my brother Remus we’re walking into the school building. Not five minutes in I was bombarded with hordes of joyous teenagers.

“Yo, Ro!”

“What it do, kid?”

“It’s the little guy on the football team!”

“Not so little anymore, hey kiddo!”

I forced a smile and slapped the hands of the people walking by.

“Hey!”

“Was your summer good?”

“Hey, watch it, you almost bumped into me!”

“You good?” Remus leaned over to me. The rush of people around me faded away as I felt my brother lean into me. I threw my arm around his shoulder.

“Yeah.” I lied.

He could tell. He always could. I gulped, and straightened my spine.

Feeling his warmth so close to me was a comfort. Like having a too big dog in your lap, like curling up to your mother on a cold night. Like your brother that’s always there for you in your time of need.

We travelled through the waves of people, eventually cutting through the crowd to the top floor, where the cafeteria was. I put on a smile and went through the motions. I greeted my acquaintances.

Then it was time for classes.

***

Remus was talking, but I wasn’t really paying much attention to his words. We had the same roster this year, so a lot of what he was saying was just repeating the events of the day before. I was in a trance, the words going in one ear, out the other. I could barely register the way my feet were hitting the ground.

I was suddenly yeeted from my daydream when a body was thrown in my direction. On instinct, I grabbed the arms of said body, gripping them tightly. I put on a cocky smile, and then the head of the body turned up at me.

He had eyes that sparkled like diamonds, they were a pale baby blue. His touch seemed to ooze happiness. I could feel something spreading from his hands, coursing through my blood. I felt happy, for the first time in a while.

It was as if sunlight was streaming through the tiny windows along the wall as he tried to apologize.

“My goodn--oh my--geez--I am--so sorry. Are, I, uh, hurt? Are you, um, hurt did I--”

“It’s cool.” I said, giving a genuine smile for the first time that day.

“I’m am so I am sorry.”

His nervous demeanor only made him more adorable. I wanted to grab his hand right then and run away from this school forever. As I looked at him, I wondered why I’d never noticed him before.

“You’re new? Did you just move to Marshfield?”

He stammered out a string of words, which I managed to connect to “I was homeschooled.” As he spoke, though, his face took a pink tint and he looked at the ground.

Suddenly the thoughts were racing through my mind. I tried to think of all the possible ways I screwed this up, or could screw it up more.

I spat something about being nervous, but I wasn’t really sure of the words coming from my mouth anymore.

“I um, it’s cool, I, uh, it’s my lunch.”

Then I invited him to my table. I could feel my heart beating. Stupid stupid. That’s weird. He’s going to think your weird. What will the others think. I don’t have enough seats.

Indeed there weren’t enough seats, as pointed out by Remus. I stared at him. Sorry. I thought, giving him a smile. He returned it and walked off to another table. I gazed as he went.

I expected my heart to return to it’s grey, melancholy state. And yet? The warmth stayed, even as I turned away from him.

“He’s cute.” Remus said.

I rolled my eyes and took a seat, a touch of pink on my cheeks.

REMUS

Today was a bad day. I’d woken up to Roman curled at the bottom of my bed for the third time since last Monday. His hair was messy, and his face. His light makeup had been skewed by tears. Now, as we were walking down the hallways, he was masking his mood with a smile.

People greeted him in the halls left and right. I leaned over “You good?” It was a silly question. I knew he wasn’t. He laid his arm on my shoulder.

“Yeah.” He lied.

We walked into the lunchroom and were soon confronted by a sunglass-wearing gay.

“Ooh hon, stop doing your head monologue and say hi to Roman! What it do, faggots and Roman.” Remy said.

“Uh, rude much.” Roman said.

“Man, you are a hunk.” I heard Remy say. I refrained from mentioning I was the one who got him to work out every morning. I zoned out for a minute until I heard Remy say my name.

“You got a mustache, and you are rocking that top. Dee, get over here.”

I noticed Dee for the first time and smiled.

“Hoo, I feel underdressed.” I heard him say before I leapt forward and pulled him into a hug.

“Hey noodle.”

He giggled, adorably. “Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Aww, my little angry noodle.”

He rolled his eyes, but I could feel his heart warm up.

“Come on, guys, I’m going to show you the table.” Roman said, walking through the lunchroom. I let go of him with a smile on my face.

***

Pretty soon I was walking to Biology side by side with Roman. I managed to slip into the room just before the bell rang. I gave a cocky smile to the teacher and picked a seat in the back row. I looked around the room at the students. When my eyes landed on Logan, I smiled, and a memory came to mind.

People were gathered in the classroom, we’d just been told that Amelia… uh, Virgil, the trans kid, had left the school. I was looking around the room at the students reactions. Many were snickering, but quite a few also seemed to be seething.

I heard several remarks, but didn’t catch any. I guess I was sad that a student left, but we hadn’t been friends, so. Well. I guess s--he didn’t have any friends. I started to feel bad for him when suddenly an angry kid stood up. The teacher was standing just outside the classroom talking to someone as the kid--Logan-- walked up to everyone’s favorite bully, Remy.

Remy had been a jerk to Am--Virgil for years. Before he came out, and after. He bullied him for being a lesbian, for being trans, and other made-up and fictional “problems”. Remy bullied everyone, I guess, but Virgil… it was bad for he--him.

My eyes followed Logan as he walked right up to Remy. Remy looked nonchalant at the approach, and didn’t even look at Logan. “Hey.” Said Logan, looking straight on at Remy.

“What do you want, nerd?” Remy said, standing up. As I examined Logan, I could see his eyes were glassy with the threat of tears.

“It’s your fault. If you weren’t such a goddamn jerk to him all the time, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Oh what, you’re defending that girl, she’s not worth it.”

“Shut up Remy, he’s a boy, and I am here to punch you.”

Logan did not disappoint. I saw the teacher turning around out of the corner of my eye, but quickly gave my full attention to the two boys. Logan raised his fist and--

BAM!!

His fist collided with Remy’s face, sending him backwards, tripping over the chair. My heart beat faster. Logan’s face turned cold and unmerciful. He wiped a tear from his face and looked down upon the body.

(The teacher gazed apathetically before giving a thumbs up and turning back to the door.)

Well, I don’t know how I’m supposed to believe I’m straight.

Butterflies fly through my stomach, and my heart turned over in my chest. He was beautiful, and his fist could do magic.

That was the moment I fell in love with Logan Lowell.

I was pulled back to the present as the class started, and began to take notes on the teacher and the like. My eyes never strayed far from Logan, though. I got lost in daydreams, as I often did. Many of them involved confessing my love to Logan in extreme and extravagant ways. I also created a few vivid descriptions of how exactly I would go about physically torturing him, but I put those aside.

***

The next two periods passed uneventfully, and pretty soon me and Roman were walking down the halls to lunch.

“And let me tell you about his eyes.” I’d been gushing about Logan since this morning, and was not slowing down. “He just has the most--” I was interrupted when I noticed a small body making his way down the hall--straight towards Roman. Neither of them were paying attention. I reached a hand out to pull Roman to the side, but before I could even touch him, the two collided.

As the two apologized, I stared at the boy. He was short, and yet, you didn’t feel like he was. He seemed to be glowing, but I blinked, and the aura disappeared. He had pale, shiny blue eyes, and luscious golden hair. He was beautiful.

Roman invited him to his table. I might have protested, but the boy seemed so sweet that I didn’t dare.

“Patton.” His name was Patton. I felt it was necessary to step in,

“I’m Remus, the sexiest man you’ll ever meet.”

Roman, I noticed, didn’t take his eyes off of Patton, which, I mean, who could blame him? As we walked into the lunch room, I counted the people at our table. After a moment of thought, I realized we didn’t have an extra seat.

“Yo, Ro, I don’t think we have enough seats, ‘cause I’m pretty sure Corbin has this lunch period too.” I saw Roman shoot a sympathetic look, and the boy, Patton, walked away.

“He’s cute.” I said. Roman blushed and took a seat.

LOGAN

I stepped into the building, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose, and glanced around the hall.

Hordes of teenagers rushed across the shining floors, racing to their next class. I stepped through the crowds, swerving around, hitting no one, and yet moving swiftly past. Years of ballet had trained me to move quickly, efficiently, and gracefully.

I stepped into my first period classroom and look around the room. The teacher, a well dressed woman, gave me a smile, and I took a seat in the front row, by the window. I pulled out a notebook and wrote “AP Physics” and my name, “Logan Lowell” on the front. I opened it to the first page and began copying down information from the board about the teacher.

‘Daphne Moon

[email protected]

Graduated from…’

Slowly other students filed in, some familiar, some not. I never paid any attention to the students, I never much needed to. I spent the time waiting for class to begin, staring out the window at the leaves of a large oak tree.

The class went fairly smoothly, the teacher introduced herself, talked about the syllabus.

Then we were off to our next class. English.

***

“Hello class, I’m Ms. Green. It’s a pleasure to meet each of you. I have my contact information up on the board if you want to read that and…”

She gave a nod and began counting papers on her desk. She looked up, apparently counting the students, and soon began placing papers on desks. I took a look at them. One was titled “About Me”, and it had a variety of questions on it. The second one was the syllabus, and I began to skim through it.

“Please fill out your about me papers, there are markers if you want to color it.”

It was like being back in kindergarten.

I began to fill out the paper.

What is/are your favorite subject/s?

Physics, astronomy

What do you like to do outside of school?

Ballet, research

How can I best help you?

Challenging the students more than you think they can handle, offering resources to learn more for students who are interested

I finished the paper quickly, and spent the rest of the period relaxing and gazing out the window.

***

Third period came and went, and soon I made my way to lunch. I had brought a sandwich, and apple, and a bottle of water, which I promptly laid out once I’d found an empty table in the cafeteria. Soon, a boy in a hoodie took a seat across the table from me. I nodded out of politeness, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge him.

I began my lunch, taking in the scene

Then he walked in.

I don’t quite believe he was a boy, more a celestial being. I scoffed silently. An angel? Logan you’re really going mad.

I wasn’t quite sure why I was gazing at him like there were stars in his eyes, but I followed him as he walked with the football player, Roman? to his table. He was meek, and short, and yet he commanded the attention of the room. I blushed and forced my eyes down to my food. I felt silly for admiring him, but I ignored it.

I stared intensely at my food as I ate. I heard footsteps approaching my table and looked up It was him. I tried to ignore him.

“Can I sit here?”

I shrugged. My odds of avoiding human attraction have severely declined. This is going to be a nice school year.

22 notes · View notes

spnxmarvel-fanfic · 5 years

Text

Fairytale!Destiel AU : Chapter Nine

Supernatural or Marvel

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel (Destiel)

Warnings: Use of the “f” slur (gay), angst I guess, homophobic behaviour

Words: 1374

Description: Castiel finally tells Dean about his curse, or is it too late?

Note: again, I’m so sorry for the wait, things have been... interesting.

if the f slur is triggering for you, please don’t read. I put a summary in the end notes on the chapter on ao3 if you would rather read that.

chapters one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight

ao3

Castiel didn’t tell Dean.

He’d tried. Oh, he tried so hard to tell him but the words never came out. He’s told Dean he loves him more than intended to, but that wasn’t the biggest of his problems.

His eighteenth birthday was tomorrow.

The prince had mainly wanted to stay away from his family. They had tried reaching out to Castiel in the beginning but ultimately gave up in helping him. So he slept at the castle, and at the crack of dawn, he was running out of there, waiting for Dean at their spot.

Now, Dean still had a family that hadn’t betrayed him (yet), and he had a job, so Castiel still spent so much time alone. Time stewing over the curse, his mind begging him to accept it so he could enjoy these last days with the man he loved.

But Dean’s face brought him back to defiance every time. Goddamn, Free Will was hard.

Castiel didn’t tell Dean; not because he was afraid of the curse, but because he was afraid Dean would leave him. And all he wanted was to spend his last days with the person who made him happiest. Was that selfish?

He’d tell him. Eventually. It wouldn’t be fair of him not to.

Dean had to leave earlier today, his father had been getting home earlier and earlier, and the older Winchester brother didn’t want anything to happen to his little brother. But they were going to meet later tonight, and Castiel was going to tell him. He had to.

He was out of time.

Walking back from the river, he shook his wet hands dry. Being cold hurt at night, where the wind stung the drying parts of his hands. Castiel thought that it was the best way to freshen himself up to… prepare himself for the conversation.

Humming as he walked, he tried to ignore the birds tweeting at him, assumingly trying to join in on a song never sung before. Little did he know it was a warning.

There was a dark silhouette already there when he arrived, surprising the prince. Dean had told him ten o’clock and surely it wasn’t that time yet.

“Hey,” Dean said, although it was a little less… Dean-like.

So much was already going through Castiel’s mind, from the event that would take place by this time tomorrow, to Dean’s possible reaction, causing his hands to shake. The last thing he was worried about was Dean lurking in the shadows, hiding his bright smile and beautiful eyes that looked upon Castiel lovingly.

“Hey, Dean,” he rubbed the back of his neck, every inch of his willpower working to not make Castiel sound sheepish. It wasn’t enough.

The hunter went to take a step forward when Castiel realised how their current positions would make everything easier. For him.

Not seeing Dean’s reaction would spare his heart being stabbed through twice.

“Wait! Don’t move, stay there,” the prince held out his hands, halting the other man in his tracks. “It’ll be easier this way.” It’s easier with five feet between us.

“What’s going on?” Dean’s voice growled from the dark. To Castiel’s ears, it was dripping with concern.

“I’m-” Just take a deep breath. “Dean, I’ve been cursed.”

Dean was about to take another step forward but thought better of it. “Excuse me?” he growled again, and not even Castiel could deny the lack of usual softness in Dean’s voice.

“I found out a while ago. When I was a baby, I was cursed to die on my eighteenth birthday at the mercy of an angel blade,” Castiel pushed it out as quick as he could, ashamed for not telling him this sooner, ashamed of what this means for him.

Dean didn’t move.

“But angel blades are a myth, a legend-”

“They used to be real, Chuck banned them after the curse was laid,” the prince shook his head, cutting his lover off.

“No-”

“Yeah, Dean. I’m going to- I’m gonna di-” tears started welling up in the prince’s eyes, and he wondered if Dean would still hold him in his arms if he ran to him.

“No, he didn’t ban them,” Dean’s voice spoke loud and clear, and Castiel realised it wasn’t Dean’s voice at all.

“He burned them. Melted the metal into a pile and threw it in the ocean, but I’ve got contacts.” The stranger walked into the light of the sunset as he spoke, a glint in his eye not unlike the shine of the blade by his side.

“And for the record, you’ll die ‘Before the First Day of Your Eighteen Year Begins’” the man quotes, smirking as the prince took a stumbling step backwards

“How do you- who are you?” Castiel asked with a shaky voice. He knew far too much, surely he couldn’t have-

“I’m the one who cursed you, sweetheart,” the man said, slowing his steps until he was stationary. Castiel had been stepping back in perfect time with him, it was pointless by now. But they were both illuminated by the dying pink light.

This was Castiel’s chance. His chance at getting answers, finding out why this happened to him, him of all people. The nobody, the middle child. But his eyes hadn’t drifted from the blade in the man’s firm grasp. Sure, his answers were right there, but at what cost?

“Why,” Castiel said, his voice betraying him by displaying the small, scared boy inside. “Why,” he tried again. “Why me, why not the heir to the throne, someone… important?”

Chuckling, the man raised the blade a bit higher, into his own field of view, and spun it in his hand. Almost a display of his skills with it. If it was meant to scare Castiel, it did.

“You don’t think you’re important? Well, you are to me,” he had a disgusted look on his face. “It was late, and I was on my way home from the pub. Three old ladies pulled me aside and started pulling all this, hoodoo-voodoo shit in front of me, showing my future. Showing me a world where my soon to be born son was a faggot.” the man spat, anger behind his eyes.

“Showing me a world where I was behind bars for doing God’s work and ending the so-called love between my son and another man,”

No.

It couldn’t be.

Could it?

Castiel had never seen the man before, but he knew. He knew who it was. But he wished he didn’t.

“No-” another voice crack.

“Yes. I begged them for a way to fix it, put the world right and spare my son the pain, and they did. They gave me a verbal curse to be spoken once, ending any hope of it happening. Guess it was left a little late, perhaps, so now I’m taking matters into my own hands,” the growl was deeper, with no reason to hide who he is anymore.

“But there is a way to reverse it!” Castiel took another sub-step back. “With a True Love’s kiss!” He pleaded, holding onto the small shred of hope he had left.

Another hearty laugh. “You think, you actually believe that someone is going give you a tender kiss, and reverse dark magic? Please,”

His heart hurt.

“Even so, who's to say that, mystery person isn’t going to be alive for another hundred years, long after everyone you know is dead,”

His heart hurt.

“So let’s stop prolonging the inevitable, and get this over with,” he raised the blade in a battle position, and a gut feeling told Castiel that his attacker would enjoy every second of this.

He ran. He sprinted in the opposite direction. It was his only chance, his last hope at free will that was almost lost from his grasp.

Holding onto the fact that he still never told Dean goodbye, he sprinted off into the night, not even looking back to see his attacker still stationary.

“You can’t run forever, little prince,” he called out, making Castiel’s blood run cold. “You’ll tire eventually, and when you do, your eyes will close forever,”

The deep laugh echoed throughout the woods, and a new figure stepped behind the man, confusion written all over his face.

“Dad?”

Tags:

@tardisheart134 @niteowlangel @asociopathandadoctor @winchester-ofthe-lord @notfunnydean @leatherandapplepies @cross-roads-blues @astheryart @winchestered-since-1983 @freshly-painted-duck

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rainy-daycoffee · 3 years

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Credits: this story and all of its characters belong to and have been written by me. Credit for inspiration/ideas will be given as fit. Enjoy ! <3

Word count: 604

The pirate king

Chapter two

Tw: transphobia, f slur, blades

We arrived at the study and of course they had to announce me. I flinched at the name, and knew you could see it if you looked, and everyone was looking. Sitting down I could feel the energy in the room change instantly. Everyone was tense and I could tell it wasnt going to go well. But I was there, and had my mind set. I was going to tell them that I am not a girl. No matter what.

"So? Why are we here Elizabeth?"

My father was always the first to speak. All eyes turned to me. The guards, my parents, their advisers, everyone important in the palace in one room looking at me.

"Well, umm, you see-"

Speaking was harder than it should've been. I had practiced over and over, I would tell them and they wouldn't do anything because I'm the heir to the throne. So why was I so scared? Fin put his hand on my shoulder, which calmed me down a lot.

"I am not a girl. I never have been. I am nonbinary, and use he/they pronouns."

Silence. No one said a word. But I refused to look up. I could feel the stares. I didn't know who would talk first. I didn't want to see their faces. I didn't need to. I was about to repeat myself, but my mom spoke up.

"But you're a princess. My princess. And my future queen. Not some faggot. Now. I'm sure we could have you talking to someone to figure out this little phase. Besides. No prince would ever marry some thing that thinks it's a they."

More silence. I could feel myself tearing up, and to make it worse I finally looked up to see everyone's faces. Disgust. Rage. Confusion. Worry. It felt like the weight and judgement of the entire kingdom was shoving me down. I stood up to leave, not wanting to hear any further, but with a snap of his fingers my father had guards holding me down. If I thought I was scared before it was nothing compared to this. I didn't know what he was going to do, because there was anger written all over his face and posture.

"Listen and listen well young lady. You will not be spreading any of the nonsense you just said. You are a woman. Act like it. If you are going to be queen one day you will keep your mouth shut about these ridiculous fantasies and do your duty as a princess. Are we clear?"

The tone of the last sentence made it clear he was threatening. I was crying, but not a noise came out of my mouth. I simply nodded and stood up, the guards backing off. I walked calmly out of the room, Fin right behind me. But the second that door shut, we both took off running. Straight to my chambers, straight to all of the commoners clothes we had been collecting, and straight to the dagger we would use to cut our hair. Without hesitation, I ripped the bun out of my hair and started pulling the layers to the stupid poofy gown that I used to adore off of me. I pulled all of my hair back, and in one swift motion cut it from my waist to my ears. And finally, I was free. This is where my journey really began. My life as the king of pirates, thief of many castles, the runaway princess who never fit in. And my first act of freedom? Leaving this castle with a little parting gift.

#pirates #writeblr #writing #original work #midevil

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sending-the-message · 6 years

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Anglerfish by coffinstuffer

Coyotes will sometimes lure domestic dogs out into the woods by playing with them. A single coyote will approach the dog, ears forward, tail up, acting friendly as can be. It may even roll on its back and expose its belly in a show of submission, to draw the dog into a bout of mock wrestling. Gradually, the games will push farther and farther away from home. Deep into the forest. That’s when the rest of the pack appears. Clusters. The dog’s new friend becomes its executioner as the pack begins to attack.

It’s not uncommon for lonely children to bond with imaginary companions. They invent invisible friends to pass the hours away with. It is considered a typically harmless behavior, as long as the child understands the ultimate difference between fantasy and reality.

I’ve often wondered about the correlation between invisible childhood friends and later mental disturbance. I wonder what the statistics of suicides and disappearances might look like, when juxtaposed against the incidence of imaginary friends and what age someone stopped seeing them.

The first invisible friend I can remember was named Kevin. He was a little boy just like me, if not a few years older. We used to play together on the beaches of Lake Michigan. Building sand castles, collecting rocks and splashing around in the water.

Kevin liked to swim a lot more than I did. He’d dog-paddle out far into the water, giggling and urging me to join him. I tried a few times, but whenever I swam more than ten feet from the shore, my mother would call me back. Kev and I played together almost every week from my early childhood until I was nine and my family moved farther inland.

I didn’t even realize that Kevin wasn’t a corporeal person until years later. I made some offhand comment to my mother about my old lakeside companion. She seemed confused, and said there were never any other children when we went to the lake. I would laugh and talk to myself. But there was no Kevin. At least, not that she ever saw.

Hyenas can mimic human laughter. There is a lot of African folklore about evil spirits that can imitate the voices of loved ones to draw you away from the village.

These stories might have been fairy tales, but they served a very real purpose. The people who survived were the ones who didn’t follow strange sounds in the dark.

I met Polly a few weeks after my family moved into a new house, in an area with dense forests and narrow roads. Rural Michigan might as well be the Canadian tundra. We were farther north than Toronto. Though the summers were pleasant enough, the winters got bitter cold.

I don’t know for a fact that I was the only one who could see Polly, because she only ever came around when I was alone. But once or twice, she seemed to disappear into thin air, which makes me think she wasn’t made of flesh and blood.

Polly was… weird. She made me nervous from the second she walked out of the woods. Maybe it was her bare, dirt-covered feet, or her wide, glassy-eyes. Even at ten years old, I knew that other children weren’t supposed to just appear like that. She shouldn’t have been wandering around in the middle of nowhere without an adult.

She always wore the same thing. A faded, floral dress, with her straw-colored hair in two messy braids. She never offered any explanation of where she came from or where her family lived, beyond just pointing back into the woods. She said they didn’t live far. They had a cabin out there.

I didn’t believe her.

But I was bored. No other children lived within walking distance. So Polly and I would kick a soccer ball around, and climb trees, and play cowboys and pirates. She always wanted me to come to her house. She said she had a lot of fun games there, but I wasn’t allowed to leave the yard.

Polly was predictable, at least. She was always waiting for me after school, regardless of the weather. When it got too cold out, we played up in my attic. I was alarmed by her lack of boots or winter clothing at first. But she always just shrugged and said the temperature didn’t bother her. She did try to get me to come outside with her sometimes. She’d say I didn’t really need a coat either. She said that if you stayed in the snow long enough, you’d stop feeling it.

At the time, I wasn’t certain she was trying to harm me. She was confused, lonely, and desperate for a friend. But at the back of my mind, a nagging voice told me she didn’t have my best interests at heart. So I never did follow her out into the elements without proper protection.

Sirens are an ancient idea. Creatures that take the shape of gorgeous women, or whatever their prey would find most enticing. Creatures that sing so beautifully, they can bewitch any listener. Creatures that are such effective predators, their prey doesn’t notice the trap until their ship has been dashed to bits on the rocky shore and there’s blood in the water.

My family moved just a little outside Detroit when I was about thirteen. I’m sure you’ve heard a lot of stories about what the city is like. What a ghost town it is. I’ve even heard it compared to a post-apocalyptic wasteland. But you have to understand, it was a pretty gradual descent from the 60’s until about 2000. In the early 90’s, it wasn’t in the terrible state it is now.

My parents and I moved into a relatively nice apartment complex. I went to the nearby middle school, and it was fine. I didn’t make friends very fast, but I also wasn’t scared for my life or anything.

Robert introduced himself a few days after we finished unpacking our boxes. He was fifteen. A tall, skinny black kid with a buzzed head and a thousand-watt smile. He said he lived down in one of the basement units, though I never saw it. His father drank a lot, and didn’t like company. We would sometimes hang out at my place, but it was kind of cramped, and my mother was usually home. So Robert and I spent a lot of time on the roof of the building.

It was terribly exciting. I remember the way my heart used to skip and flutter when we stole cigarettes from the corner store, or slipped a forty into our baggy jeans. On cool autumn nights, when Robert and I would lie back on a blanket and look at the stars, my skin would get inexplicably warm. I’d feel strange and fuzzy all over, and it was more than just the watery beer.

He talked to me a lot about how he wanted to be a pilot. He’d always dreamed of joining the Air Force. His dad said it was a stupid idea. They don’t let faggots in the army. I’d never heard that word before. Faggot. It felt heavy, and dirty, and also thrilling in the same way that everything about Robert was. When he cupped my face in his wide hands and pressed our lips together, it was like the hormonal floodgates burst open and I was suddenly hungry in ways I’d never experienced.

I started to suspect Robert was not real when I saw him fall nine stories into a dumpster below, and get up again without so much as a scratch on him. I decided to ignore all better judgment, because I wanted to keep kissing him.

We only lived in that Detroit apartment for about eight months. By the end, I was well and truly in love, and when Robert whispered that there was a way we could stay together–I almost listened. But I didn’t want to step off the roof. I was scared. I knew it would hurt. When I refused, Robert became despondent and disappeared. I didn’t see him at all the last three days I spent in that building.

Versions of skinwalkers and shape shifters appear in most cultures.

It’s a terrifying idea. Being hurt by something that looks like a friend. Danger that seems harmless. Wolves in sheep’s clothing.

I can’t help but wonder if something as old as humanity itself might be the thing these legends sprang from. Perhaps these stories are warnings of some primal memory. A creature that looks like a person, but absolutely isn’t.

After my parents split up, my mother and I went to Ohio. She had a sister there, just a short drive from Columbus. We all lived together in a trailer, along with my five-year-old cousin Becca.

I was sixteen by then, so I was often left to watch Becca after school and on weekends. I didn’t mind it too much. It wasn't like I had other friends. She’d fill in her coloring books while I did homework, then we’d go outside.

There was another little girl next door. Tess. She and Becca loved to run around together, racing up and down the dirt roads, playing tag. Whenever they’d go too far off, too close to the parkway for comfort, I’d call them back. Becca usually listened, but Tess always seemed reluctant. I didn’t think a whole lot of it.

One day, when I was a little too engrossed in reading a comic book and not watching the girls closely, I heard a shriek.

“Tess! Watch out!”

I looked up just in time to see a semi-truck blasting past, not even slowing down as it ran little Tess right over. My jaw dropped. Panic shot through me. Sure, she wasn’t my kid, and I hadn’t even been directly tasked with watching her, but this was still ostensibly my fault.

I was on my feet, ready to run to Mr. Callhun’s house to borrow his phone and call the police.

But Tess was still standing there. Completely unharmed. She skipped off the road, giggling and whispering into Becca’s ear. Becca still looked a bit shell shocked, but smiled and hugged Tess close.

My stomach twisted. It was terrible to see from the outside. One of those things trying to get my baby cousin.

When I got close enough, I grabbed Becca’s wrist and tugged her away. Tess eyed me. Cold and calculating. Unlike any of them had ever looked at me before.

Perhaps I’d gotten too old. The whimsical thinking of childhood had given way to suspicion and fear. Perhaps it could tell that I’d caught onto the game. Perhaps it was angry I could even still see it. Most people my age couldn’t.

“You leave Becca alone,” I said firm as my cracking pubescent voice could muster.

“Or what?” Tess smiled at me. I’d never noticed how sharp her canines were. How mean those overgrown, dirty fingernails looked. I hadn’t taken the time to get a really good look at her until that moment.

“I’ll hurt you.”

“Adam!” Becca began trying to struggle out of my grasp. Obviously embarrassed.

Tess had started to back away, still smiling. She probably knew I couldn’t do anything to her. But maybe I’d get someone who could. A priest or a rabbi or something.

“Becca.” I kneeled down to be at her eye level. “Look at me. Tess isn’t real, OK? Real people can’t get run over by a truck and live.”

“Let me go!” Becca wailed, pushing at my hand ineffectually, trying to squirm free.

“Becca. Please. It’s important. You can’t play by the road with Tess anymore. She wants to hurt you.”

Becca broke down into ugly tears. Face bright red. Windpipes constricting to form unholy shrieks. I sighed, picked her up and carried her back to the trailer. She cried herself out and fell asleep on the couch.

When her mother got home that night, I told her Becca was playing way too close to the road and wouldn’t listen when I said it was dangerous. I hoped that was enough to warrant keeping her inside for a while.

It wasn’t more than a few weeks before Becca stopped talking about Tess. When I asked, she said that Tess had gone away. I took comfort in the fact that I hadn’t seen her around either.

Anglerfish are grotesque creatures. Ugly, with long fangs and dull eyes. But in the depths of oceanic trenches, they can hide in the shadows. The only visible part of them is the glowing ball of light that sprouts from an antenna at the top of their head.

They advertise salvation, the only source of illumination in the pits of despair. But any creature that takes the bait meets a sticky end.

I still see them every now and then. Little old ladies begging for help across a busy street, right when the light is about to change. Pretty strangers at bars who are far too aggressive in urging me to have another drink. Lonely hitchhikers that ask to travel to places the GPS will never find. But don’t worry. They know the way.

I’m not sure what they are. I can’t be the only one who notices them. After all, most of us had the ability at one point. We just grew out of it. Perhaps we shed it as a survival mechanism.

Perhaps I’m one in a million. A kid who got stuck with a genetic allele that should have been bred out generations ago. Perhaps my existence is purposeful, and I’m a new evolution when it comes to defending ourselves against the strange and bitter unknown.

I can only say one thing for sure. Keep a close eye on your children when they start to tell you about their new invisible friend. Chances are, that friend is not friendly at all.

#reddit #nosleep #scary #story

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bensportfolio2017-blog · 7 years

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Film Studies - Queer Theory

Queer Theory - the investigation into the positive and negative representation of the LGBT community within media, such as, film, television, and literature.

Self-identified Queer Artists and Filmmakers

Dustin Lance Black (born 1974) Black is an American screenwriter, producer, and LGBT activist. He came out as gay when he was 17/18, and in May 2016, he married openly gay Olympics diver, Tom Daley. Throughout his career, he has created several popular LGBT-oriented films, including:

‘Milk (2008, directed by Gus van Sant)’. Black wrote the screenplay for this film, which was based on the life of gay rights activist, Harvey Milk, who eventually became the first openly gay person elected to public office in California. Sean Penn portrayed the main character, who won an Oscar for Best Actor, for his role in this film. Black also won an Oscar for his screenwriting credits.

‘J. Edgar (2012, directed by Clint Eastwood)’. Black wrote the screenplay for this film, which is about the life and career of J. Edgar Hoover, who was the first Director of the FBI, and was rumoured to be either gay or asexual. Leonardo DiCaprio portrayed the titular character, and he gained mostly positive reviews on his performance of the historical figure. The film was also praised on its story, direction, and production; Todd McCarthy from The Hollywood Reporter wrote “This surprising collaboration between director Clint Eastwood and ‘Milk’ screenwriter Dustin Lance Black tackles its trickiest challenges with plausibility and good sense, while of its controversial subject’s behaviour, public and private”.

Ian McKellen (born 1939) - McKellen is a British actor and LGBT activist. He has been openly gay since 1988. He has always been a massive activist for LGBT rights, and he campaigns regularly to gain equality for his community. He is the co-founder of Stonewall, which is an LGBT rights lobby group in the United Kingdom, who currently are working towards equality for LGBT people at home, work and schools. He is also the patron for LGBT History Month, Pride London, Oxford Pride, GAY-GLOS, The Lesbian and Gay Foundation, and FFLAG. He hasn’t starred in any recognised LGBT-subject films; however, he has starred in huge film franchises such as:

The X-Men series, in which he starred as the elder version of villain, Erik Lehnsherr/Magneto.

The Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit series’, in which he starred as wizard, Gandalf the Grey/Gandalf the White.

Jonathan Groff (born 1985) - Groff is an American actor. He came out as gay in October 2009. In his career, he has starred in several different LGBT-orientated media, such as:

‘The Normal Heart (2014, directed by Ryan Murphy)’, a TV movie about the rise of the HIV/AIDS epidemic in New York City in 1981-84. He portrays Craig Donner, a young gay man who dies suddenly of suspected gay-related immune deficiency (GRID), which was later known as AIDS.

‘Looking (2014-15)’, a comedy-drama series, about a group of young gay friends living in San Francisco. He portrays Patrick Murray, an openly gay video game designer.

Representation of LGBT characters in film

In 2013, GLAAD (Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation) started to release the Studio Responsibility Index, which is an annual report of statistics on the representation of LGBT characters in films produced by the six major production companies (20th Century Fox, Paramount Pictures, Sony Colombia, Universal Pictures, the Walt Disney Company, and Warner Bros.), in the previous year.

In 2012, 13.9% of films released contained lesbian, gay, and bisexual characters. No transgender characters where portrayed. But, only 28.6% of these films, had LGBT characters as major characters.

In 2013, Lionsgate Entertainment was added to the list of major production companies. 16.7% of films released involved LGBT characters, with the majority starring in comedies.

In 2014, Focus Features, Fox Searchlight, Roadside Attractions, and Sony Pictures Classics were added to the list of studios. This year, 17.5% of films included lesbian, gay, and bisexual characters, with no identifiable transgender characters. This year, Warner Bros. was the most inclusive studio, with 32% of their films were LGBT-inclusive.

In 2015, 17.5% of films included LGBT characters. In these films, there was 1 transgender character, and 47 lesbian, gay and bisexual characters.

Queering the canon

Queering the canon is the theory that characters in film can be assigned as being LGBT, judging by their personality, actions, metaphorical storylines, and the characters they associate with.

Walt Disney Pictures, is mainly used as an example of having non-explicit LGBT characters. Disney have always maintained a positive relationship with the community, as they were the first company to extend healthcare benefits to the partners of gay employees. They also host regular pride festivals at their theme parks. Therefore, the company and their films have always been the subject of gay theories about characters.

Films that include confirmed or suspected LGBT characters are:

Ursula from the film, ‘The Little Mermaid (1989, directed by Ron Clement and John Musker)’. The character of Ursula, is a suspected lesbian or bisexual woman. This is because she resembles the popular drag queen, Divine. Her personality also reflects this. Some viewers also interpret the character as an overtly male ‘butch’ lesbian, who represents the evil of homosexuality, and wanting to turn the innocent, Ariel into a lesbian woman.

Timon and Pumbaa from the film, ‘The Lion King (1994, directed by Roger Allers and Rob Minkoff)’. The characters of Timon and Pumbaa, are suspected to be in a gay relationship. This is reinforced in the fact they have a ‘married couple’ type relationship. They go through popular LGBT struggles, of being social outcasts and gay adoption. They are also negatively represented as they are the flamboyant comic relief for the film.

Elsa from the film, ‘Frozen (2013, directed by Chris Buck and Jennifer Lee)’. The character of Elsa, is portrayed as a young girl who was born different to everyone else. Her parents hid her away, because they feared they would be judged, and she would be rejected by the world. When she reveals her ‘icy powers’ (a metaphor for her being a lesbian), she is called a freak and cast out of her home into isolation. Multiple elements of the story, can be metaphors for coming out, and suppression of her sexuality from her parents. Her bedroom acts as her ‘closet’ which she eventually comes out of, and her parents tell her to ‘conceal, don’t feel’. All of these elements indicate to the character likely to be a lesbian. She even has a ‘coming out’ song – “Let It Go”, in which she says ‘Let It Go, Let It Go. Turn away and slam the door’ and ‘I don’t care what they’re going to say’. Elsa is also a good representation of women, as she is the only Disney princess not to require a love interest to survive.

Films with an LGBT subjects and characters‘

The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975, directed by Jim Sharman)’ - This film is about a young couple who, after their car breaks down in the rain, seek help at a castle, where they come across a group of strangers celebrating an annual convention. They meet Dr. Frank N. Furter, a mad alien transvestite, who creates a living man for his own sexual desires. This film was written by Richard O’Brian, who is openly transgender. He also starred in this film as Riff Raff, the house handyman. This has become a cult film for members of the LGBT community, including their allies, as this film would regularly bring everyone together, disregarding their sexuality, dressed up in stockings and heels, to participate in screenings of the film in movie theatres. The popularity of this film and similar films helped to bring LGBT rights to mainstream media, and to the attention of the public. Most of the LGBT-orientated films of the 20th Century were usually about the HIV/AIDS epidemic and other gay-related issues, whereas this film depicts the gay community in a friendlier, more accepting way.

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‘The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012, directed by Stephen Chbosky)’ - This film is about a young student called Charlie, who suffers from clinical depression because of childhood setback. He is very shy and finds it difficult to make friends. When he meets two fellow students, Patrick and Sam, he is invited along to several social activities with them. The film carries on telling the story of their friendships and of Charlie’s depression. The character of Patrick, is openly gay, and is in a secret relationship with Brad, a closeted football player. They get caught kissing at a party by Charlie. Later on, Patrick and Brad are caught having sex by Brad’s dad, who then kicks out Patrick and beat up his son. Brad is then forced to tell his friends that he was jumped, to hide the fact that he is gay. The next day, Patrick walks past Brad and his friends, and Brad shouts out and calls Patrick a ‘faggot’, which provokes Patrick to ‘out’ him to his friends, who then beat up Patrick, and he gets saved by Charlie, who beats up all the friends then blacks out. This film was subject to mainly positive reviews, commenting on the strong cast performances, and “heartfelt and sincere adaption” of the 1999 book it was based on.

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‘Moonlight (2016, directed by Barry Jenkins)’ - This film is about the main character, Chiron, and his difficulties he faces, relating to his race, and sexual identity, which includes his physical and emotional abuse that he received whilst growing up. The film is presented in three different parts, Little, Chiron, and Black. ‘Little’ tells the story of young Chiron, who is a withdrawn child, who lives with his drug-addicted mother, Paula. He befriends drug dealer, Juan, and gets bullied at school by fellow students, who called him a ‘faggot’. ‘Chiron’ describes Chiron’s teenage life, as he avoids bullies, and spends time with Juan’s girlfriend, after Juan dies. One night, he spends time with his friend, Kevin, they eventually kiss and engage in sexual contact. The next day, Kevin beats him up reluctantly. In ‘Black’, Chiron, who is now adult, sells drugs. His mother is in a rehabilitation centre. He goes and visits Kevin, who after talking for a while, go back to his house and Chiron breaks down, Kevin comforts him and they embrace. This film received huge critical acclaim, gaining an Oscar for Best Picture, being the first film with and all-black cast, and LGBT theme, to do so.

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‘Call Me by Your Name (2017, directed by Luca Guadagnino)’ - This film is based on the 2017 novel which has the same name, and was written by André Aciman. It is about the gay relationship between 17-year-old, Elio, and his father’s student, 30-year-old, Oliver. When this film was aired at Sundance Film Festival, it gained huge acclaim and mostly positive critical reviews. Rotten Tomatoes gave the film a rating of 98% which was based on critics and public reviews, which had an average rating of 9.1/10. The site describes the films as “a melancholy, powerfully affecting portrait of first love”.

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Representation of LGBT characters in Hollywood films

Ever since the beginning of Hollywood, there has always been controversy over their negative representation of homosexuality. Critics and activists would usually focus on how portrayals would often demean and try to silence the LGBT community.

At the beginning of Hollywood (1890’s to the 1930’s), homosexuality was usually presented as an object of mockery and laughter. Films regularly used the archetype of ‘the sissy’ – which were feminine men who usually have delicate emotions. This was popular, and was used as a source of amusement for the viewers. However, this was not a negative representation, because it was in the middle of masculinity and femininity.

In the 1930’s to 50’s, Hollywood was criticised by religious and homophobic groups, because films would apparently contribute to immorality. Therefore, the Hay’s Code was introduced. The Hay’s Code was a system of self-censorship that mainly affected the representation of homosexuality. During this time, films were unable to include openly gay characters, so instead homosexuality would be included into the character’s mannerisms and behaviour.

During the 1960’s and 70’s, the Hay’s Code was loosened. This was during the dawn of the gay rights movement, and because gays and lesbians were becoming more vocal and visible in society, therefore representation became increasingly more homophobic. Gay characters were portrayed as dangerous, violent, predatory, and suicidal, shown in films such as ‘Midnight Express (1978, directed by Alan Parker), ‘Vanishing Point (1971, directed by Richard C. Sarafian), and ‘The Boys in the Band (1970, directed by William Friedkin).

In the 1990’s, Hollywood improved their representation of LGBT characters. Films such as, ‘Philadelphia (1993, directed by Jonathan Demme)’, ‘To Wong Foo Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar (1995, directed by Beeban Kidron)’, and ‘In & Out (1997, directed by Frank Oz)’, proved that audiences can and do enjoy films that have gay and lesbian characters. But, the film industry was still cautious of their representation of gay characters, themes, and experiences. Because Hollywood films were designed to appeal to as big an audience as possible, producers were scared that gay and lesbian themes would offend audiences, and potential investors.

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wubwubnparmaham · 7 years

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I was tagged by my lovely Lexy, and fine. @avocadolouie

rules: list the first lines of your stories. see if there are any patterns. then tag 10 of your favourite authors!

Only You Can Be My Alpha:

Louis has never liked being an Omega. Ever since his first heat at the unsuspecting age of thirteen, he has been chasing ways to run from destiny.

As if it wasn’t enough to despise what he was born into, he couldn’t even be what he was correctly. He had never once submitted to an Alpha, even when confronted with their commanding and ensnaring vocal timbre—the howahkan—and ordered to comply directly in his face. Howahkan is the clinical term for that dominant, horridly loud and snappish raise in tone that is incessantly utilized to bring disobedient Omegas to their knees in shame. An unbreakable vow; inescapable order; to every Omega who hears it. Every Omega, save for himself.

Alphas couldn’t control Louis and they hated him for it, but it almost made him laugh—their hatred was nothing in comparison to the searing inferno of disappointment the Omega felt for himself. Nevertheless, the Alphas made the rules, and everything under the sun was their call. Thus, here he was; alone (abandoned) in the middle of a tiresomely overgrown forest, muttering to himself and scrounging the leafy floor for any supper he might find.

It Started With A Forest:

“Ana!” Johannah shrieked when she busted in the door of a locked closet, falling against the wall in horror.

“Take him,” Anastasia begged from the floor, holding a baby Nikita to Johannah before it was too late.

“Shit,” Norman cursed, taking in the bloodied conditions of their friends and falling to his knees in shame. “Ana, Dmitri…I’m so sorry. We didn’t know, we swear we didn’t—”

"We know,” Dmitri chuckled, cutting off with wet and red tinted cough. “To be fair, we didn’t know about you guys either. They got to us a while ago…the silver is in our bloodstream, we’re not gonna make it. We don’t blame you two for what your comrades are doing, don’t ever bear the weight of that guilt, it’s not yours to burden yourself with. Please, will you take Nikita to America?” he asked desperately, wrapping his arms around his shaking wife. “Raise him, teach him to be good, keep him safe.”

Johannah dropped all of her weapons and took Nikita, wiping her tears with her sleeve and trying to calm the wailing baby, even though the sounds of battle outside were probably traumatizing.

“Some hunters you are.”

Affairs of Royalty:

“I saw the new kid today!” Niall whisper-screamed to Louis as he flew into his seat.

Niall and Louis were the absolute best of friends that could ever potentially exist. More so than any other two beings on this planet could ever hope to be. Just the fact that they existed to each other was enough, but they’d come to find they were perfectly compatible in almost every way.

As soon as they’d started high school, they’d found each other on the first day. It was a shock to see someone of their own species in such a human-inhabited school, so they’d ran to each other and fiercely hugged until the bell rang, and then a while after that. Now fours year later, they were seniors—and the hugs hadn’t stopped.

Love Endless (The Road to Recollection):

“Faggot!” Louis heard being snarled behind him, giving him even more incentive to keep pounding his feet on the forest floor. He doesn’t even know how it came to this. One minute he was calmly riding his bike home after an undeserved late-night detention session at school; the next, he was being chased by his high school’s football team, probably on their way to guzzle beer and tip cows in Old Man Marley’s animal farm.

Was Louis gay? Yes, of course he was. How these assholes had managed to clock it was miles beyond him, though. He’d never gazed in longing at these particular brutes, he’d never had a boyfriend, nor had he taken part in any public displays of affection with members of his own gender that any bystanders could have been witness to. He didn’t have magazine cutouts of John Travolta or Shaun Cassidy taped anywhere in his locker, regardless of how much they belonged there, and he kept the neon bell-bottoms to a bare minimum.

Life was interesting for a ‘faggot’ in 1973. Little by little, the fight for fair and just equality was brewing—with minor successes here and there—but that meant the backlash was now stronger than ever before. With more blinding rays of acceptance on the rise, huge waves of hatred followed in the shadows, spewing from everyone that felt ‘threatened’ by love.

One of the best examples being right behind him, in the form of Troy; a chump of a football team captain with a bad attitude, horrendous grades, a majorly crippling alcohol problem, and buckets of introspective shame.

Love Endless (Path to Permanence):

It was amazing that not much had been able to shock Louis this far into his wild ride of a life. What he’d just heard had obliterated that barrier, but let him remind you of the past events that had paved the way to his present time.

He’d stumbled across a presumably haunted mansion after getting chased through the woods by his high school’s hate-fueled football team, and took brave shelter inside. The interior had fascinated and enamoured him, and the estate itself had served as the perfect and most interesting escape from the rain, but it hadn’t been haunted—merely occupied.

An unknown voice had shouted at him to get out—the command unspokenly laced with after-threats that Louis hadn’t wanted to stick around to hear—and he’d left as soon as he’d gathered the strength to do so. But something in him hadn’t been able to leave it behind. He’d returned the very next day to scope out that magical place of fairy-tales, regardless of it being more the villainous dark castle of such stories, and found the mystery case of a lifetime.

He routinely invaded day after day, learning more perplexing things about the invisible owner with each new room he peeked in. Such findings had directed him to the only theory that made any sense, whilst at the time, making no sense whatsoever—that the owner was immortal. And possibly the vampiric kind.

Love Endless (Trail to Transcendence):

Like your dreams. Like your happiest, most fulfilling and visceral dreams—the ones where nothing goes wrong and all the peace in the world is had with the use of a simple smile. If you're a vampire, that was a mere piece of the feelings associated with blood-drinking, and the cataclysmic gift of vitality you received upon intake. It contrasted to the dregs of immortality like yin and yang, showing you each time just how dead you really were. The revival almost never felt real; a beating heart and warm skin felt wholly apart from you in those first few moments, submerged under the unseen but coarse fabric of reality. The two existential halves you dwelled in at once—that ever-present line that cut you straight down the middle: Life and death.

Those lucky enough to have life all the time would never understand what it was like to lose it. To lose everything that ties you to nature; to time, and the species you once were. Not that Erakus regrets his turning, nor does he resent his Grandfather for bringing it upon him without warrant, but sometimes vampirism can be more of the ‘curse’ itself, rather than the cure to the age-old curse of inevitable death. There were times when immortality was one of the worst disadvantages you could possibly have.

And sun sickness is a great example of that.

Love Endless (The Bridge to Barbarity):

I’M NOT TELLING YOU !! LOLOLOL :D

ALRIGHT. Idek why I did this, lol. But I have done the thing and hereby tag @icanhazzalou because I know you have a lot and it’ll be funny to make you sift. unless you’ve already done it. in that case, this never happened.

#lol sorry #tagged challenge

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stone-man-warrior · 5 years

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August 8, 2018: 1:00 pm:

August 7, 2018: 12:57 pm: (Edited for Capitalization: 8/8 12:58 ... StoneMan .Warrior - 2018-08-07T17:04:01-0400 - Updated: 2018-08-08T16:00:14-0400

August 7, 2018: 12:57 pm: (Edited for Capitalization: 8/8 12:58 pm) What the Fuck is this? This is a copy of a paragraph sent to me from the White House Press Department regarding jobs and the economy. As Follows: ========================================================== "Unemployment dipped to 3.9 percent last week—just the eighth time since 1970 it has fallen below 4 percent. (And nearly half of those occasions happened in 2018.)" "Most important is who is benefitting. President Donald J. Trump promised to look out for Americans from every corner of the country, not the well-connected and powerful. He’s delivered. “The least educated American workers, who took the hardest hit in the Great Recession . . . are a striking symbol of a strong economy,” The New York Times reports." ================================================================== (Skip this part and move on to the important reading.) This is the math problem sent to me from the White House today. =========================== "Unemployment dipped to 3.9 percent last week—just the eighth time since 1970 it has fallen below 4 percent. (And nearly half of those occasions happened in 2018.)" =========================== {do the math: Let's see...uhh... ok... "for the 8th time"... in a long time, something happened. Ok, got it. Hmmm... and "nearly half of those times was this year". Ok...got that. Now what? Ohh I see. "OIC?". Nope, that's not it. "OYC?". Nahh. Hmmm ok.. start over. "Oye. Oye Vay?"... nooooo. Ummmm... maybe it means that something happened almost 4 times in a short time, because 8 times divided by two times equals 4 times.... but it says it was "almost one half". So... the answer is almost 4, but not quite. So... in 48 years (2018 minus 1970 equals 48 years... right?) Ok... hmm, in 48 years minus this year equals 47 years, and in this year something happened almost 4 times, but not quite. What was the something that happened... I forgot... let's see... oh! It was Dipped. Dipping happened. That's what happened. Ok, now what. Ummm. It's August. That means this is the 8th month, not quite a whole year yet. Darn. eight twelfths equals doughnuts. That leaves four doughnuts. I am hungry.. break for a minute.. ~!insert Jeopardy Theme Song Here~ Ok.. Back! 8/12 = 3/4 of a year. Terrorists use a 10 month calender, not a twelve month calander... I learned it in elementary Anti-Terrorist school, or had to die trying. Sooo 8/12 is 8 minus 2=6 months. Equals half of a year. um... yeah, now what? Ok ....dipping happened almost 4 times this year, but not quite. That leaves Forty-Seven years that something did not happen... what could it be? Care for a Doughnut? mmmm Doughnuts! Solved it! The answer is that no anti-terrorism happened for 47 years and the year is only half over in terrorism months, so we don't know about the 48th year yet. Hmmm I guess the only thing left to solve the math problem is to find out what the Dogs name is.... But that's easy, there are a lot of Dogs to choose from... go to the pound and pick one... Hmmmm Pound Sterling = Elizabeth ... Pound = hit = thump = Pope Francis, the Dog's name is Francis Ok... The answer is that the Two Dogs, Elizabeth and Francis have been doing Terrorism for 47 years and counting, and no one has ever tried to stop them, Also, Elizabeth is the Top Dog because of the "Dipping", Francis Curtsey's to Elizabeth. ""Bow-Wow-Maneuver-Service. And, they have a Poodle that lives in the White House they call Potus, Potus Poodle's only live to be 4 or 8 years old, so they get new ones from time to time. Ok? Ther ya go. Completely solved over Doughnuts and Coffee in about 30 Minutes, and took a Break. Now... You try!} Elizabeth is an English Bull Dog. Francis is an Afghan. Potus is a French Poodle, The French Poodles are interchangeable, and are always named Potus, and are well Groomed. Afghans are interchangeable and have different names when they change, but are always Afghans, this one is Francis. The Bull Dog lives forever, and is Immortal, at least that is how the math works. It must be that "New Math". They all sleep together on an Oval Area Rug by the Ottoman, and have been laying there for 47 years, at least Elizabeth has, and they are watching black and white re-runs of the Dick-Van-Dyke show. That's the complete answer, it's the same, it's different, it's the same. it's different. it's the same. It's the same as it ever was. Different. It's indifferent. (look it up, it's important) . (Don't feel bad if you are having trouble with this. Some of you could go look at last night's final post for a solution that will work for you, otherwise keep practicing. However, be advised that if you did not go to MK-Ultra School, like I did, then this will be a challenging math problem for you. Ok? The person who wrote this math problem also went to MK-Ultra School and is quite older than I am... been around the sun more times, that's all. Hi! How you doin'? It's been a long, long, long,..............long time.) ==================================================== The following is about the entry above the Math Problem. This says, according to the New York Times, and sent to me from the White House... From the office of Donald Trump, that STUPID AMERICANS WHO GET HIT IN THE HEAD ARE SYMBOLIC OF A SUCCESSFUL AND PROFITABLE ATTACK! And that is how you read terrorist news from Donald Trump at the White House. I cannot deny the truth... Americans are stupid. We keep getting hit in the head, while collecting a few nuts that are thrown at us, meanwhile, the Vatican is not just taking the trees that the nuts come from, but the entire forest of trees... the Pope is not satisfied with owning the forest so he takes the land that the forest is on, and all of the seeds for all of the trees of all of the nuts also. The Pope tosses nuts around like feeding squirrels in the park. The National Security Administration, and the Department of Homeland Security are opposing forces. When one team gains, the other team throws some nuts and the squirrels chase after the nuts that are thrown, sometimes it's a fumble, sometimes it's a pass, sometimes it's a first down, sometimes it's squeeze play, or hail-marry, or off-sides, a penalty, a flag, a fucking pat on the back from one football playing squirrel agent faggot to another one... But the pope is playing craps you assholes. Not squirrel football. The Pope likes Seven's and Elevens on the First Throw of the Die. And The Queen is playing Chess. She likes strong Castles, Horseman with Swords, Wizards with Pointy Hats, and a lot of disposable Pawns. Vladimir Putin is the only person on Earth that knows what the fuck is going on. He tried to tell the Americans what the fuck is going on... he gave the squirrels a real football. Look at it. Kick it around for a while. Maybe you could get some of your favorite sports stars to put a GODDAMN autograph on it. Or Rock Stars. Or Movie Stars. Maybe then you could see that the thing is made of super tiny Pentagons. It really was a gift you know. I mean, how can you possibly explain to POTUS that his house is dirty, and the stink of it is getting into your house, without pissing him off or hurting his golden feelings? And when his ego is like a hurricane in a factory that makes golden box cutters in a cattle farm where the pooper scooper is broken? You give the POTUS a clue. That's what you do. Subtle, easy to understand, non offensive and in good spirit, with good intentions in mind. To inform, without prejudice. But with the teeth of an ultimatum, because that is what is required to preserve peace in a proactive kind of way... on Earth. American Government does not understand proactive subtleties, so they popped the soccer/football gift newspaper billboard sign advertising secret message that was provided and are still trying to figure out why there are Turnberries printed on the ball. Those red berries... yeah, those are Turn-Berries... Assholes. After that, all of the Agents go to Church to blow the Pope. The ball is flat. And they are Jonseing for more nuts. And that is how it is done... Asshole Agents. Incoming intercontinental ballistic missiles fitted with Smellery Clinton's Uranium powered nuclear War Heads will turn the squirrel football game into a soap opera... "Like Sands Through The Hour Glass, These Are The Days Of Our Lives". the football field will be turned into the inside of an hour glass with nothing but tiny particles of sand spilling down the enormous hole where the Pentagon used to be. All because the agents trusted, and were fooled, paid, drugged, by the Movie Stars and Rock Stars that lined up outside of Langley Virginia to sign the agents hats, and offer some Schwagg. Besides all of that, the Chinese people have known what is going on and have prepared themselves for the Big Bang. Those guys set up manufacturing. They did that while Americans were busy flipping Cheese Burgers under Bush and Obama per the Plan of Reagan under the Pope. The Chinese people get a lot of grief associated with the idea that they sell plagiarized goods of American products. It's another clue that the Stupid American Anti-Terrorist agents could not figure out. "Plague-in-your-eyes". They think differently, their language works differently, they tried to convey the message and translate it into American English the best way they are able to. If you look at the Chinese people some more, you will find that the clues are where you find them, but only if you look. They don't want to blow up. So, they see something, then say something. You idiot. When the big Bang Bang happens because Trump is a Bonehead terrorist golden bastard, China is ready. T,hey won't have to worry about knock-off merchandise problems because they will be making the original products when the original American factories get blown up. All they will have to worry about is if Mexico is making knock offs of the Chinese copies of the products that the people in Europe will be buying. I have a feeling that John Bolton is advising Donald Trump to Bomb Syria again... as i write this. Why?

Shared with: Public

+1'd by: Jerry Burkhart, Linda Vanmeter, Duccini's Pizza Delivery Near Arlington, VA

StoneMan .Warrior - 2018-08-07T18:11:14-0400

August 7, 2018: Tuesday: 3:10 pm: Cart Drivers Calling from American Medical Response again. This-Just-in.

StoneMan .Warrior - 2018-08-07T18:49:41-0400 - Updated: 2018-08-07T18:51:41-0400

August 7. 2018: Tuesday Afternoon: 3:45 pm: Once in a Lifetime From the Album: Talking Heads And you may find yourself Living in a shotgun shack And you may find yourself In another part of the world And you may find yourself Behind the wheel of a large automobile And you may find yourself in a beautiful house With a beautiful wife And you may ask yourself, well How did I get here? Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down Letting the days go by, water flowing underground Into the blue again after the money's gone Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground And you may ask yourself How do I work this? And you may ask yourself Where is that large automobile? And you may tell yourself This is not my beautiful house! And you may tell yourself This is not my beautiful wife! Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down Letting the days go by, water flowing underground Into the blue again after the money's gone Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground Same as it ever was Same as it ever was Same as it ever was Same as it ever was Same as it ever was Same as it ever was Same as it ever was Same as it ever was Water dissolving and water removing There is water at the bottom of the ocean Under the water, carry the water Remove the water at the bottom of the ocean! Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down Letting the days go by, water flowing underground Into the blue again in the silent water Under the rocks, and stones there is water underground Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down Letting the days go by, water flowing underground Into the blue again after the money's gone Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground And you may ask yourself What is that beautiful house? And you may ask yourself Where does that highway go to? And you may ask yourself Am I right? Am I wrong? And you may say yourself, "My God! What have I done?" Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down Letting the days go by, water flowing underground Into the blue again in to the silent water Under the rocks and stones, there is water underground Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down Letting the days go by, water flowing underground Into the blue again after the money's gone Once in a lifetime, water flowing underground Same as it ever was Same as it ever was Same as it ever was Look where my hand was Time isn't holding up Time isn't after us Same as it ever was Same as it ever was Same as it ever was Same as it ever was Same as it ever was Same as it ever was Same as it ever was Same as it ever was Same as it ever was Letting the days go by (same as it ever was) Letting the days go by (same as it ever was) Once in a lifetime Letting the days go by Letting the days go by Songwriters: Brian Eno / Christopher Frantz / David Byrne / Jerry Harrison / Tina Weymouth Once in a Lifetime lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, Universal Music Publishing Group https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5IsSpAOD6K8

StoneMan .Warrior - 2018-08-07T18:59:13-0400

Tuesday Afternoon: 3:52pm (Ford Thunderbird) Taking Heads Psycho Killer Bootleg Version I have no words for this.

StoneMan .Warrior - 2018-08-07T19:37:40-0400 - Updated: 2018-08-07T19:41:58-0400

August 7, 2018: 4:36 pm: Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, wrote the math problem. She has a Bastard Son who's name is Clint Whitney. Clint Whitney's nick-name is Clump Lumpy. I think that is the end of the math problem.

StoneMan .Warrior - 2018-08-07T19:50:26-0400

Tuesday Afternoon: Elizabeth: Please remove your bloody rabbit from my White House. Regards,

StoneMan

StoneMan .Warrior - 2018-08-07T20:11:57-0400

Tuesday Afternoon: "With two squirrels and an owl, I could rule the world." Spoken by a frightened King of some faraway land who was conquered by his own imagination. Owl - Wikipedia

StoneMan .Warrior - 2018-08-07T20:24:38-0400 - Updated: 2018-08-07T20:26:20-0400

Tuesday Afternoon: Pinball Wizard The Who Ever since I was a young boy I've played the silver ball From Soho down to Brighton I must have played them all But I ain't seen nothing like him In any amusement hall That deaf dumb and blind kid Sure plays a mean pin ball! He stands like a statue, Becomes part of the machine Feeling all the bumpers Always playing clean He plays by intuition, The digit counters fall That deaf dumb and blind kid Sure plays a mean pin ball! He's a pin ball wizard There has got to be a twist A pin ball wizard, S'got such a supple wrist How do you think he does it? I don't know! What makes him so good? He ain't got no distractions Can't hear those buzzers and bells Don't see lights a flashin' Plays by sense of smell Always gets a replay Never seen him fall That deaf dumb and blind kid Sure plays a mean pin ball I thought I was The Bally table king But I just handed My pin ball crown to him Even on my favorite table He can beat my best His disciples lead him in And he just does the rest He's got crazy flipper fingers Never seen him fall That deaf dumb and blind kind Sure plays a mean pin ball! Songwriters: Peter Townshend Pinball Wizard lyrics © Spirit Music Group ============================================== "Pinball Wizard" Pinball Wizard Germany Single by The Who from the album Tommy B-side "Dogs (Part Two)" Released 7 March 1969 Format 7-inch single Recorded 7 February 1969 Studio Morgan, Willesden, London Genre Hard rock[1] power pop[2] Length 2:57 Label Track Songwriter(s) Pete Townshend Producer(s) Kit Lambert The Who singles chronology "Magic Bus" (1968) "Pinball Wizard" (1969) "I'm Free" (1969) Audio sample MENU0:00 filehelp https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=msZOSziOeCs https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xt2bHUDsPMU File:Pinball Wizard Germany PS.jpg - Wikipedia

StoneMan .Warrior - 2018-08-07T20:34:47-0400

Check-Mate

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goldeagleprice · 6 years

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Fairytales on Stamps

Once upon a time when we were young, we loved to listen to bedtime stories. Our days were filled with imaginary castles and with lovely fairytales, with princes and princesses of the far-off lands, with animals that talked and with trees that walked! Such a distinct memory it seems to be. The stories that made and shaped our childhood seemed to be lost now. But what if we tell you that you can fall back in time and relive those lost moments again? Yes, it’s true. Many countries have issued our favourite fairytales on stamps! You can now collect them and get lost in those far away fairy lands again…

The stories are those which we have heard and read so many times, yet each time we enjoy them anew. But who wrote them? Who compiled our fairy tales?

In the early 17th century in the glittering city of Paris in the kingdom of France, there was a man named Charles Perrault. He was a French author who laid the foundations for a new literary genre, the fairy tales! A member of the Académie Française and a leading intellectual of his time, his dialogue Parallèles des anciens et des modernes (Parallels between the Ancients and the Moderns), served as a forerunner for the Age of Enlightenment in Europe, an era that was not always receptive to tales of magic and fantasy.

But he was a lawyer before he turned to writing. After completing his studies, he began a career in government service. Under Jean Baptist Colbert, the Finance Minister of King Louis XIV, he served as secretary of the Academy of Inscriptions and Belles-Lettres. When he lost he job as a secretary in 1695 he decided to dedicate himself to his family. In 1697 he published a book, Tales and Stories of the Past with Morals (Hisoires et Contes du Temps Passé), which is sometimes better known by its subtitle: Tales of Mother Goose (Les contes de ma Mère l’Oie). The book was a compilation of fairy tales, some of them being derived from pre-existing folk tales or old oral folklore.

Now, unfortunately, there are no stamps issued to honour Charles Perrault. But the fairytales that he wrote himself (Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Little Red Riding Hood, Puss in Boots, Blue Beard, Ricky of the Tuft and Little Thumb) are featured on stamps of many countries.

The first stamp depicts a fairytale we all know by heart. It’s the tale of a young girl who is harassed by her step-mother and sisters, forbidden to attend a royal ball, but finds help and support in her humble friends and godmother, meets the Prince at the ball, forgets her glass slipper behind and ends up marrying the Prince. This story is one of the most famous for adaptations, with the 1950 animated movie from Disney studios being the most popular. This stamp from Monaco depicts “Cinderella” in ragged clothes, fairy godmother, the pumpkin carriage and the glass slippers.

The next one is of a story that goes by the name “Puss in the Boots”. The tale tells about a cat which, with the help of magic boots, helps his poor master to marry the daughter of a king by making the king believe that his master is rich and wealthy.

Next stamp depicts the story of the Sleeping Beauty, a tale that has also been adapted by Disney studios in 1959. It is interesting to note that there is a difference between the version written by Charles Perrault and the tale related in Disney’s movie: in Perrault’s tale the sleeping beauty wakes up by herself whereas in Disney’s movie it is the kiss from the prince that wakes her up.

The former seems to be more fit. Doesn’t it?

The next stamp is of the Little Red Riding Hood. In Perrault’s version the little girl is eaten by the wolf and or at times often hinted that the “wolf” was a wicked man who preyed on young girls who wandered the woods alone. The versions that we have read are thankfully lesser gruesome and in the “Red” is saved from the wolf by the woodcutters.

This stamp tells the horrible story of a wife who discovers that her husband, Blue beard, has killed all his previous spouses and kept their bodies in a closet! Blue beard is a wealthy violent man in the habit of murdering his wives. But the wife he acquired recently is a clever and a brave girl of sixteen years who devises a plan to escape and expose her cruel murderous husband.

Because of the way he has treated his wives, King Henry VIII is sometimes referred as the English blue beard!

The stamp depicted next tells the story of ‘Little Thumb’ who rescues his brothers from the fate of being eaten by an Ogre. The story goes like this: a couple of faggot-makers have seven children, al boys, and they are so poor that they cannot feed them anymore. So one day they decide to abandon them in a forest. The tale then tells the story of the youngest boy called “little thumb”- because of his small size – who helps rescues his brothers from a terrible death by an Ogre.

The next is a tale which is a bit lesser known. This story is known as “The Fairies” or as “Diamonds and Toads”.

The story is about two sisters: one is a nice girl and the other a nasty. The nasty one is, as often depicted in fairy tales, the preferred daughter of her mother and the nice is left to do all the household work. One day the nice daughter goes to the well to draw some water. There she meets a fairy who asks her for some water. In exchange the fairy offers to the young girl a gift: each time she would say a word, diamonds and precious jewels would come out of her mouth. When her mother sees what happened to her daughter, she sends her other favourite one to the well so that she gets the same gift! But as the other daughter is a nasty one, she orders the fairy to fetch the water herself. When asked for a gift, the fairy obliges. She grants her a boon with a twist: each time the girl would say a word, a toad or a serpent would come out of her mouth! Seeing that, the mother gets furious and asks the nice girl to leave their home, putting all the responsibility of what happened on her shoulders. Fleeing from home, the young girl meets a prince who is seduced by her gift and he takes her to his castle to marry her.

The fourth stamp depicted here is the tale called as “Donkey skin” (Peau d’âne). The story is of a king who, after the death of his very beautiful wife that he loved more than anything else, is looking for a beautiful bride. Before dying his wife made him promise that he would not marry another woman who is less beautiful than herself. Pushed by his people he tries to find another woman that he could marry but he hardly finds anyone as pretty as his former wife. Except for his daughter! To escape from this unnatural marriage she flees from her home hiding under a donkey skin. She then takes shelter on a farm where she lives, always wearing the skin to hide her beauty.

Sometime later a prince of the area starts searching for a wife. In order to decide who will marry him, he triggers a competition, asking all the young girls of the area to cook him a cake: he would marry the girl who has made the best cake. In one cake he finds a nice ring, which has been lost by the girl who has cooked it. The prince starts searching for the girl who has the fingers delicate enough to wear this beautiful tiny ring. He finally finds out that the ring fits perfectly on the fingers of Donkey skin. She then reveals her beauty and they get married!

Apart from the fairytales that were compiled by Charles Perrault and the Grimm Brothers, there are a lot many folklores that were famous like the “1001 Arabian Nights” and our very own Panchatantra and Jataka stories. Now let’s see a few other stories on stamps.

The first stamp depicted here portrays the hero of The Thousand and One Nights who recounts his adventures on seven voyages! Have you guessed who he is?

Yes, he’s Sindabad the Sailor!

A fictional sailor and the hero of a story-cycle of Middle Eastern origin, he is described as living in Baghdad, during the Abbasid Caliphate. During his voyages throughout the seas east of Africa and south of Asia, he has fantastic adventures going to magical places, meeting monsters, and encountering supernatural phenomena.

The magic doesn’t stop here. Were you ever blown over by the blue giant Genie that helped Aladdin out of tight spots and granted him three wishes? Don’t we too wish to find such magical oil lamps!! The next stamp features Aladdin and the Magical Lamp. Well but the genie depicted here is not as cute and amicable as the one we are used to seeing the Disney Movies.

This legendary Flying Carpet, depicted on the next stamp, is an integral part of Oriental stories. The carpet appears in ancient Jewish texts, the Arabian One Thousand and One Nights, and most recently in Disney’s Aladdin. One of the stories in the One Thousand and One Nights relates how Prince Husain, the eldest son of Sultan of the Indies, travels to Bisnagar (Vijayanagara) in India and buys a magic carpet. There are many versions of this story as this flying magic carpet features in many of the eastern country folklore.

“Open Sesame”!

The next stamp features Ali Baba and 40 thieves, one of the most familiar of the “Arabian Nights” tales, that has been widely retold and performed in many media, especially for children, where the more violent aspects of the story are often suppressed. In the story, Ali Baba is a poor woodcutter who discovers the secret of a thieves’ den, entered with the phrase “Open Sesame”. The thieves learn this and try to kill Ali Baba, but Ali Baba’s faithful slave-girl foils their plots. Ali Baba gives his son to her in marriage and keeps the secret of the treasure.

The last stamp features a tale famously called as “Goldilocks and the Three Bears”. This is not a story from the Arabian Nights. Written by Robert Southey, this tale has two versions: the older one is called as “The Story of the Three Bears” where a badly-behaved old woman enters the forest home of three bachelor bears whilst they are away. She sits in their chairs, eats some of their porridge, and sleeps in one of their beds. When the bears return and discover her, she starts up, jumps from the window, and is never seen again. The other major version brings Goldilocks to the tale (replacing the old woman), and an even later version retained Goldilocks but has the three bachelor bears transformed into Papa, Mama, and Baby Bear.

Isn’t it interesting to relive these fairytales through stamps? It’s like finding a missing piece of our childhood. Well…stay tuned we will back with other fairytales and Panchatantra stories on stamps.

Till then hope you live happily ever after…

The post Fairytales on Stamps appeared first on Blog | Mintage World.

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the-firebird69 · 3 years

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decoys went out and were injured and the pilot injured no the two are not her nor the decoy.... and she wanted Bo’s role. missed this am and she is found from the video supposedly is lili. nope. and is revived. and due to the movie is returning shortly to do her speach. morlock are unreasonable accross the board hit for little reason dont play games out with yo she says Thor Freya and i want to thank him bo your welcome. i am on the job. and this is terrible these ask for it so often how could i refuse Zues haha true too they are all over him now too and poop and such and are faggots about it are lame slow and not good workers and macs are the alternative no. fell too and forg fell. we did. and he is greatness shortly. will see it a bit we hope. bo we need to show it a bit too. need to i will explain it Hera me too and present it for her and she sends i see it and agree..he does. now we both do and we send it all prep it and meet and cons too Frank Castle Hardcastle we appreciate it Zues i thank you yes i do you are marvelous thank you hahah funn word but i am yes to you lol what fun i want a motorcycle nd we drive slow carefully...and tons of optioins adn ours odd as heck it is ok odd. and i like it start small like the kawasaki 90 and he has two renovated and we shall use them a bigger seat no but it wwas huge...mark had it and ws a fag not you nope held on said out of this now and a lot too. and we saw him cry this is faggy to him. and he knew he was done nope did clinton in. oh boy they say and out of th ejob...and he saw him. hit and it worked...and clinton is a pro. fun bikes though and are neat...we try to stay out of the mud lol ok ok funny but ok hahah...Posiden laughs and Goddess Wife...fun to ride and slower yes but neat and he will show me lights at night no traffic...and thrill...oh boy it is isnt it...tons of joy. and then fear a bit...and i follow...then this we are doomed lol....and i want a ride home lol..now too i see it is cool but adn theyi arrive lol Zig Zag top down put it up in case bugs lol...and run the air...heheh. eheheh we stop get ice cream floats healthy ones...chat...and i do adn then this did you like the ride and she says it was fun scary dark and then ohh it was fun...the riding...but wow it is dark at night he faced it nightly is brave saw and sees. but he likes it knows we are there... and i say it was a fine time...and they are nice bikes and we ride and they are quiet...and i control it and he led i felt better and near me and we were ok...saw lights here and we turned around and called...hehehe this is fun imaginary but real. and it h it me i was exhilarated...he was too a bit...and we went on like we were in control and are family we are and it is cool...and the bike was neat. i felt in control...and it was cool like wolverine at night and i braced said yes it is fun...and wow...i rememver it was a scary feel...tons see it fear is good no. it was not but ok..i feel it. and see. but we ran out of gas no full good sized tanks he would chekc often and knew how far he could go and one day went way way out and said now back didntrun out adn checked...so they thought on it and good got better ones and then to china lol bu i had fun for real we do it for real some day....and we can here sorta...and we shall lol Hera Zues a first here but and we see. may be different ansd to share it here is important she wil get better at it faster and smarter good Thor Freya and a shared experience adn it is good. and she was scared...and saw this...darkness. said how can you...and then theyi are there infrared and heat seeing monsters and gear and sats adn more use them adn we heard this saw it all there in the desert so i relax but hear me..dark as heck...and light form the bike shortly your eyes adjust and almsot like day when the moon is out. i laugh ok it is...odd too. i have seen it..but cool feel..and danger yes yup it is and it is hard but i use it otoo help and they knw but are on high alert we see fun

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kxf7be8QbPM

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blockheadbrands · 7 years

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America Mourns Passing of Dennis Peron, Father of Medical Marijuana

Bruce Barcott of Leafly Reports:

Numerous reports out of San Francisco are confirming the passing of Dennis Peron, 72, the legendary cannabis activist who kindled America’s medical marijuana revolution in the 1980s.

Peron’s brother, Jeffrey Peron, posted this on his Facebook page earlier this afternoon:

“Changed the world” is a phrase entirely befitting the life of Dennis Peron.

Peron was one of the first to realize the health benefits cannabis was offering to AIDS patients.

As a leading figure in San Francisco’s gay culture and cannabis underground in the 1970s and 1980s, Peron was one of the first to realize the health benefits cannabis offered to those battling AIDS in the heart of the crisis that overtook that city in the late 1980s.

Working with other local leaders like Mary Jane Rathbun (“Brownie Mary”) and Dr. Donald Abrams, Peron helped pass an ordinance legalizing medical cannabis in the city of San Francisco, then took the movement statewide with the 1996 passage of Proposition 215, the nation’s first statewide medical marijuana legalization law.

Peron and his husband, John Entwistle, continued to be active in the life of San Francisco over the past 30 years.

Until recently, their bed-and-breakfast “Castro Castle” on the edge of the city’s famous gay neighborhood welcomed all travelers, with day-glow decorated rooms that allowed visitors to enjoy an authentic taste of the city’s psychedelic culture. A painted mural on a garden wall memorialized Harvey Milk, the late San Francisco city supervisor who counted Peron as a close friend and early political supporter.

Vietnam Vet: ‘I came back and kissed the ground.’

The Bronx-born Peron grew up on Long Island in a middle class family. “I looked the same as everyone else,” he told me in a 2014 interview at his home in San Francisco. “I fit in like everyone else. But I just knew I wasn’t that person. Number one, I was gay. I knew I had to hide. Somehow I had to hide. I was a good actor. A good hider.”

'I came home from Vietnam with two pounds of cannabis, and started a career that lasted 40 years.' -Dennis Peron

That early acquired skill served him well later, he said, when he needed to hide both his sexual identity and his cannabis consumption. “Two for one!” he said.

Peron was drafted in 1966, and served in the Air Force in Vietnam. That’s where he first encountered cannabis. “The people there catered to the GIs. We were a market for them.”

Peron returned stateside with two pounds of cannabis in his gear. “I came back and kissed the ground. I was so happy—partly because I had two pounds with me. That started a career that would span 40 years.”

A Brief Stopover Became a Lifelong Love

Peron stopped over briefly in San Francisco prior to shipping out to Vietnam in 1967. “It was the Summer of Love,” he later recalled. “Perfect timing. Like everyone else, I ate acid and tripped out. The hippies, those people accepted me. I said, ‘I’m going to do everything I can to come back to San Francisco and live my life here.”

Peron tried to join communes, 'but they wouldn't have me. I was too trashy.'

So he did. “I decided I’d be a hippie faggot,” he often said, chuckling, when recalling those days.

Peron applied to join a number of local peace-and-love communes, he said, “but they wouldn’t have me. I was too trashy. I didn’t know who Marx or Lenin were.”

Flummoxed, he started his own commune. “We called ourselves the Misfits,” he said. They lived 25-to-a-house in the Haight. “Bunch of us in a beautiful old Victorian. My brother had a spot in the kitchen, under the table.”

Eventually Peron became one of the city’s flourishing cannabis sellers. San Francisco police busted him any number of times over the years, but Peron usually beat the charge with the help of Tony Serra, the civil rights attorney known for defending the Bay Area’s most famous and infamous citizens.

Harvey Milk and the Aftermath

In the Castro’s heyday in the 1970s, Peron’s Island Restaurant served cannabis upstairs, hot food downstairs, and hosted spirited discussions about politics, cannabis, and gay rights in the booths.

In the late 1970s, he was was arrested while in possession of 200 pounds of cannabis—a charge too heavy for even Tony Serra to wipe away entirely. He served a six-month sentence, which was how he found himself in jail on Nov. 27, 1978, when Milk, the city’s first openly gay city supervisor, and Mayor George Moscone were assassinated by former city supervisor Dan White.

“That was the pivotal moment,” Peron recalled. The collective outrage of the city sent a signal to the San Francisco Police Department, which had been notorious for beating and arresting gay men. “They realized they couldn’t keep busting gay guys just because they didn’t like them. They couldn’t bust them, but that didn’t stop them from harassing us.”

Tragedy Strikes the City

Milk’s murder came less than three weeks after the city’s voters passed Prop. W, which demanded that the police chief and city attorney stop arresting and prosecuting people for cannabis. (That didn’t happen. With the death of Mayor Moscone, then-Supervisor Dianne Feinstein took the city’s reins. Feinstein, then as now a fierce cannabis prohibitionist, quashed any further discussion of decrim in San Francisco.)

As the AIDS crisis unfolded in the 1980s, Peron’s neighborhood, the Castro, became ground zero for activists and AIDS patients alike. Peron’s partner, Jonathan West, succumbed to the disease in 1990.

“At that point, I didn’t know what I was living for,” Peron told the Los Angeles Times in 1996. “I was the loneliest guy in America,” Peron recalls. “In my pain, I decided to leave Jonathan a legacy of love. I made it my moral pursuit to let everyone know about Jonathan’s life, his death, and his use of marijuana and how it gave him dignity in his final days.”

Pistil + Stigma@PistilStigma

The #cannabis legalization movement has lost a great man, #DennisPeron, the co-author of California's Prop 215 #medicalcannabis initiative and the driving force behind Measure P (the SF local ordinance that preceded it), has died. Rest in peace, Dennis. https://hubs.ly/H09P_0_0

5:13 PM - Jan 27, 2018

Why you can thank a gay, hippie Vietnam veteran for legal medical and recreational marijuana today

One of the forefather’s of modern medical marijuana, Dennis Peron, credits his time in the Vietnam War with giving him the clarity and resolve to come back home and end the war on pot. Peron founde…

blog.sfgate.com

MMJ Emerges from the AIDS Crisis

Peron and many others in the city knew how their friends and partners fighting AIDS were finding some relief with cannabis.

The anti-nausea effects helped with the chemo treatments for Kaposi’s sarcoma and side effects of many early experimental drug regimes. The appetite stimulation provided by cannabis helped AIDS patients who were fighting “wasting syndrome,” a condition in which people find it extremely difficult to eat and digest enough food to stay alive.

“It helped Jonathan,” Peron later recalled. “He was wasting from 142 pounds down to 110.” Doctors prescribed Marinol, the THC formula in a pill. “Jonathan just vomited the Marinol up,” Peron said. “It didn’t make sense.” A few puffs on a joint, by contrast, did everything the Marinol couldn’t.

Prop. 215 Makes History

In the year after West’s death, Peron threw himself into the cause. He raised enough signatures to put Proposition P, which legalized the medical use of cannabis within San Francisco’s city limits, on the citywide ballot.

In Nov. 1991, San Francisco voters overwhelmingly passed the measure with an 80% vote of approval.

Dennis Peron, takes notes during an interview on the phone, while Gary Johnson lights a marijuana filled pipe in an office at the Proposition 215 Headquarters, formerly the Cannabis Buyers club on Friday, October 11, 1996 in San Francisco. (AP Photo/Peron Robinson)

MMJ Freedom for California

Five years later, Peron and a cadre of allies took a similar measure statewide.

'I knew I had to get everybody' involved in the Prop. 215 campaign, Peron said. 'Clergy, doctors, nurses. I almost had to cut the potheads loose. Too much cultural baggage.'

Dennis Peron, Campaign organizer, California's Prop. 215

Prop. 215 faced heavy opposition from powerful political forces, including police agencies throughout the state.

“I knew I had to get everybody” involved in the campaign, Peron later told me. “Clergy, doctors, nurses. I almost had to cut the potheads loose. I had the votes, and they had a lot of cultural baggage that I couldn’t deal with.

“This coalition was pretty forceful. They just wanted change. They didn’t want people to go to jail for marijuana. And if it helped patients, why can’t they have it? Why? We asked that question again and again. We never stopped asking.”

Prop. 215, approved by 56% of the state’s voters, turned California into America’s first state to legalize the medical use of cannabis.

Marriage and Later Years

Peron lived long enough to see his activism vindicated on two fronts. When same-sex marriage became legal in California, he married his longtime partner John Entwistle, himself an outspoken activist on both national cannabis issues and local San Francisco neighborhood politics.

In Nov. 2016, California voters legalized the adult use of cannabis, and the first retail cannabis stores opened a little more than three weeks ago, on Jan. 1, 2018.

In his final months, Peron enjoyed his days with Entwistle in their Castro Castle, which was no longer accepting traveling guests. He was irascible to the end; reporters calling for a quote about legalization were liable to get an earful from Peron or Entwistle about the imperfections in California’s new law. Without Peron, the law would not exist. But that didn’t mean he was done fighting for something better.

TO READ MORE OF THIS ARTICLE ON LEAFLY, CLICK HERE.

https://www.leafly.com/news/politics/america-mourns-passing-of-dennis-peron-father-of-medical-marijuana

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