#what a fucking mensch

[o-rusted-heart]

"Happy first day o' Hanukkah, Nicky," Six has a gift behind her back that she presents him: a small but delicately wrapped bag of chocolates molded into the shape of bottlecaps, "Madebottle caps, with some chocolate I traded for -- I hope they're okay."

The look on Nick's face shifts from utterly shocked to deeply touched to thoroughly entertained. It's more expressive than he tends to be, and that's a good sign. The old synth takes the bag with a sound out of his throat best described as a very quiet squeal. "You're kidding me. You made me Gelt?"

He's already unwrapping one to eat, not even thinking about how the chocolate was just going to make a mess of his insides. Didn't care.

"Mazel Tov."

[bananonbinary]

genius lyrics is such a shit website sometimes i'll check it and it'll give me deeply relevant and interesting context and sometimes it's trying to convince me that "bereft" is yiddish

[prudencepaccard]

didn't get cast in ensemble. they did cast a girl at callbacks I literally taught the harmony to though. fucked up

[kick-a-long]

I think when goyim hear jews say, "you would not have hid jews during the holocaust," and only hear 'nah nah, you're a fake good person.' They think it's purely a dig or insult and nothing else.

We are super depressed and anxious that you wouldn't stand up to nazis as well you know. It's not my favorite thing to know that .08% of people who had the chance to save jews, did. In fact it's really fucked up that 99.02% of people are happy to help kill us or look the other way. I'm indignant and in disbelief about that shit as much as goyim are.

Can goyim take it as a challenge instead of a slight please? Can you stand up to online antisemitism right now, This very year and minute? It is significantly easier than keeping a whole ass human being in your closet or attic for a year. I consider pointing out antisemitism online the full test for a cool ass good person who's an ally to jews. you stand up once and you are officially an ally. you stand up twice and, damn, color me impressed. you stand up in real life? clean or cross out graffiti that helps no one and makes jews know they aren't welcomed? What a mensch! You are officially invited to shabbat dinner and go down as a personal hero to me. Brave! Beautiful! An Angel! Did you see that? What a move! They aren't even jewish, they just care about people not being discriminated against!

I WANT YOU TO HAVE BEEN THE TYPE TO HIDE JEWS FROM NAZIS, THAT WOULD BE AWESOME! We share a dream, let's make it happen together.

[catd2014]

I am reminded here of something Jon has previously said:

‘If you don’t stick to your values when they’re being tested, they’re not values, they’re hobbies’

Well, Apple has officially proved that it sucks. Again.

[columboscreens]

You know they've rumoured for years to either be remaking Columbo or shooting a movie. If they did, who would you like to see in the lead? I remember reading Mark Ruffalo was linked & yknow what I ain't mad.

as an actor and writer myself, i don't make a habit of inextricably tying actors to roles. i believe media is meant to be interpreted and reinterpreted freely.

but peter falk, man...peter falk was more than inextricable from columbo. he was columbo.

it's funny because the show's creators, levinson & link, had a totally different vision going in their heads during the casting process--they saw a much older, balding irish/anglo type. for reference, burt freed first played the character in a brief TV appearance; thomas mitchell first played him onstage; bing crosby was one of the first choices for TV.

then peter falk frantically waltzed in (quote: "i'd kill to play that cop") with his overpowering, mensch-y charm and sold them on columbo as the whimsical, dark-featured little guy we've come to know and love. falk's columbo was such an earth-shattering hit that NBC was practically on their knees begging him to sign a serial contract; when he did, he swept the nation. i don't have exact figures handy, but he was earning hand over fucking fist playing him, and NBC spent the better part of a decade kowtowing to his sometimes famously insane demands just to keep the hits coming. needless to say, despite the insanity, peter falk's dedication to his craft and the character of columbo was second to none.

on a decidedly darker note, i confess that i often think of it this way: when falk had alzheimer's in his twilight years, someone leaked from court documents that his doctor noted he could "no longer remember playing columbo". you can still find those news articles everywhere online; it was so widely reported and discussed that it was effectively treated as a death announcement. the public treated the "death" of peter falk's memory of columbo as effectively the death of both he and the character.

to me, it's pretty difficult to top that.

so yeah, frankly i'm just not interested whatsoever in seeing anybody else as columbo proper. if the character had to return, i'd rather see something actually iterative like a prequel/origin story or something. i'm also sick of reboots in general so seeing inspirations from columbo in new media rather than directly revived is a much more inviting prospect for me.

speaking of which, take natasha lyonne in poker face (you knew i was gonna go there!). she's a huge peter falk/columbo fan herself and was widely rumored to play "female columbo" in a reboot, but she did the far more creative thing and teamed up with rian johnson to devise a character/show inspired by columbo but fresh and new, neither a reboot nor carbon copy. if only the rest of mainstream flim/tv these days could take note.

tl;dr i would like to see absolutely nobody in the lead of a columbo reboot except for a terrible PS2 graphics render of peter falk clipping through the floor

[unscharf-an-den-raendern]

NEIN NEIN NEIN NEIN ICH KDUHBjejdjdkdjdkdjdjdkd COLIN MEIN KIND MEIN BABY MEIN EIN UND ALLES OMG OH MEIN GOTT WAS MACHEN DIE BLOSS MIT MIR

MITTEN IN DER UBAHN AUFM WEG IN DIE STADT SEHE ICH DASS 1077 ENDLICH HOCHGELADEN WURDE. ALSO KLICKE ICH AUF DIE FOLGE UND SKIPPE VOR UM EINFACH ALLE NOAH SZENEN ZU SEHEN. ICH STAND DA WIE EIN PSYCHO GRINSEND AN MEINEM HANDY WEIL NOAH SO FUCKING SÜSS WAR UND SO EINE GUTE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT HAT UND WEIL JOEL SO TOLL IST.

UND DANN DIREKT 2 MINUTEN VOR SCHLUSS HÄLT MEINE BAHN AN UND ICH GEHE RAUS ABER ICH AHNE SCHON BÖSES, ALSO SETZE ICH MICH EXTRA DAHIN BEIM STOCKHOLM HAUPTBAHNHOF WO TAUSEND MENSCHEN SIND UND GUCKE DIESE LETZTE SZENE UND DANN MERKE ICH DASS COLIN KOMMT UND FANGE AN ZU QUIETSCHEN WIE SO EINE ENTEEEEEEEE UND DIE LEUTE NEHMEN MIR GUCKEN MICH SCHON AN UND FRAGEN SICH WAS FÜR NH BESCHEUERTE KACKE ICH DA GUCKE UND WAS MIT MIR FALSCH IST 😭😭😭

UND JETZT SCHREIBE ICH DAS HIER GEHEND UND KOMM ABSOLT GAR NICHT MEHR AUF MEIN LEBEN KLAR. OH MEIN GOTTTTTTT KIKA IST SOOOO SICKKKKK. THEY KNEW EXACTLY WHAT THEY WERE DOING WITH THAT PLOTTWIST OH MEIN GOTTTTTT WIE SOLL ICH BLOSS DIE NÄCHSTE WOCHE ÜBERLEBEN?!?! WIE UM ALLES SOLL ICH JETZT SO TUN ALS WÄRE ICH EIN NORMALER MENSCH UND WIE SOLL ICH SOZIALISIEREN OHNE DIE GANZE ZEIT ÜBER DIESE KIKA SERIE RUMZUHEULEN FUCKKKKKKKKIJZjjkkjdhdhrjehejdjdjdjdnddjbdbdnddjdjrjrjrjrjdjfjfjfj

NOLIN ENDGAME IST SO REAL. WE FUCKING MADE IT. MY SUICIDE IS OFFICIALLY POSTPONED

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[newtonsheffield]

Oh Molly me again with the Bruises Spicy Sunday request.. either that or My Hand.. Bruises Anthony is my favorite but My Hand was really, REALLY close. I love that story. You are a mensch girl and your training for a marathon is so inspiring, I have been working on my health this past year and I feel so much better, happier, saner.. Not marathon territory but maybe one day. Its has been the best thing I have ever done for myself, 100% worth it. I am far away but I am cheering for you from here

Ohhh that’s a good idea. Let’s revisit my hand Kate and Anthony. I’ll admit I loved how these two were intimate with each other. They were so good at reading each other’s body language and I think it made the way they connected very special honestly.

(Also thank you for your kind comments about my journey. This year has been really tough for me and I guess I’m trying to use this as a way to take time and connect with myself again in a way that I haven’t for a while. Already over the last month I feel better, I feel more motivated, I’m being more productive, and ah yeah… I’m not advocating that this needs to be everyone’s journey before I get comments about that. If you’re happy with how you are then that’s great but this so far is a great way for me personally to check in with myself. Get to know myself and my body better and even with just walking through August my general health is improving so I’m excited for the journey ahead)

Kate could feel his eyes on her as she worked in the corner of the living room and she ignored him. Very pointedly, she ignored her boyfriend. Anthony’s eyes had been soft when she’d woken this morning, and the soft noise he’d made as he nestled closer had still sounded so beautiful.

“You’re so pretty.”

She’d laughed, kissing his palm as his fingers swept over her cheek, “I’m not staying in bed with you today.”

Anthony drew back indignantly, “I wasn’t asking for you to!”

“Oh yes you were.” She kissed the edge of his nose, “You were trying your old Oh Kate, you’re so pretty. Oh my god, how did my hand get up there? What a wild coincidence, well I’d hate to not take advantage of an opportunity now that it’s presented itself routine and I don’t have time for that today.” She patted his cheek, scooting away from him. “I have work to do. Books need to be illustrated Anthony, and I’m sure you have little cakes to make.”

Anthony pouted, ruffling his hair adorable, “I don’t like that you know me so well.” He huffed, settling back against the pillows as she stood, “I have time for a little romp.”

“A romp?” Kate chuckled, pulling on one of his T-shirts. “Oh that’s so romantic, Anthony. Is it any wonder I’ve been in love with you all these years?”

He grinned, bouncing the muscles in his chest, “It’s not a surprise to me, no.”

She sent him a rude hand gesture, “I’m having breakfast, and then I’m starting work. Go to work.”

He flopped down against the pillows, “What if I just gave you head?”

Kate sighed as she stepped forward, running her fingers quickly through his hair before she spoke and her lips moved in time with her words, “It’s never just head with you, Babe. You’ll get excited and I’ll get carried away and then before I know it, I’ve spent all day in bed and I’ve still not illustrated this fucking book.”

Anthony pouted again, “So I’m being blamed for your lack of self control?”

“Yes,” She sighed, leaning down to kiss him. She let herself linger against his lips, let herself lean over him on the bed and tangle her tongue with his. “Be a good boy and go to work.”

He’d stomped out the door, slamming it loudly behind him just the way he always did minutes later while she sat at the breakfast bar, eating her cereal.

“Daddy’s silly, Newtie boy.” Kate had chuckled to herself, hearing his heavy footfalls the entire way down the corridor. “It’s a good thing he’s very cute.”

She settled at her desk in the corner of the living room where the light filtered in through the windows, not bothering to change out of the shirt she’d thrown on for breakfast and before long she heard the same footsteps again. Thundering down the hallway. She’d teased him gently about it once, how his footsteps echoed through the room and he’d blinked at her,

“I’m as quiet as a mouse, Kate. I can’t hear any difference between yours and mine.”

“Dickhead.” She’d chuckled, leaning in to kiss him, but she loved the sound of Anthony moving about. It was comforting, the noise of him clattering in the living room and slamming drawers in the bathroom.

Kate paused her hand, moving over the paper, letting her eyes flick to the clock on the wall. Her eyes narrowed. It was barely passed one. He was early, and that made her suspicious.

The door slammed closed and Kate turned towards him, her eyebrow raised. He was looking at something on his phone, completely engrossed in whatever he was reading. Kate flicked her eraser at him and it bounced off his shoulder. He looked up at her indignantly, dropping his phone.

“What was that for?”

“What are you doing home?”

His expression was innocent, far too innocent, and that as well had made her suspicious. “We were quiet. Jack’s just closing up.”

“Right.” Kate hummed suspiciously, “I don’t trust you, Bridgerton.”

Anthony held his hands up in surrender as he dropped his bag, “I’m only going to be trying out some new recipes. I won’t bother you at all.”

He had moved to the kitchen and started pulling out bowl after bowl, and she’d settled back to work herself but his eyes had stayed on her still.

They were still there now.

Kate saw him move quickly from the corner of her eye and a flash of his skin appeared. She turned towards him and found she didn’t need to get his attention, because he was staring right at her, separating eggs with his shirt now abandoned.

“What are you doing?”

Anthony blinked at her far too innocently, “I told you, Babe. I’m trying a new donut recipe.”

He let to egg yolk slip through his hands and started measuring out flour in a separate bowl, Kate gasped as Anthony grunted, letting his hands mix the ingredients into a sticky dough. “No you aren’t! You’re trying to thirst trap me into having sex with you!”

“Why would I do that?” He slapped the couch onto the counter, his muscles flexing and his fingers squeezed it and Kate felt heat rise in her cheeks.

“Why would I do that?”

Anthony’s hips thrust forward against the countertop. “You don’t need to fuck the counter to mix dough!”

Anthony grinned at her and his hair fell in his eyes, a satisfied little noise in the back of his throat, “Well, I wouldn’t need to if you let me fuck you.”

Kate;s stomach dropped and her mouth felt dry and she let her pencil fall from her hand as she stood, making her way the short distance to the kitchen. “Oh, so you admit it! This was a honey pot scheme! I’m never getting any donuts, this was all the seduce me!”

Anthony blinked at her, cleaning off his hands, handprints of flour stark against his chest. “Well, did it work?”

He was leaning against the counter, the muscles in his arms tight and she could almost feel the heat of him. She could almost feel those hands ghosting over her and his lips against hers. She could feel him kneading her flesh the same way his hands had moved through that dough seconds ago.

She sighed, “Obviously, take off your pants.”

Anthony grinned, reaching out to wrap around her waist. Tugging her firmly against his bare chest. He lifted her with one arm, as though she wasn’t made of anything and her legs wrapped around him seconds before their lips crashed together. Their teeth clashed and their tongues swept over one another and she felt his moan ripple through her chest as well.

The marble countertop was cold on the backs of her bare legs and the fabric of his jeans was rough against the inside of her thighs and Anthony’s deft hand slid up her shirt tickling the skin of her stomach. Kate let her lips fall to his neck, right to the spot that her made his spine shiver when they’d been eighteen years old and fumbling together in her bedroom for the first time. They were so much surer of themselves now, of the way they were together as well but it still felt just the same. Just as thrilling and heady, the tension simmering between them.

She left her hands drift down his chest, delighting in the way he shivered against her. Kate tugged roughly that the button, pushing them down his thighs with his underwear. His eyes caught hers and he pressed his forehead against hers, his breath shuddering in his chest as his hips bucked softly against the inside of her thigh. His hands tilted her hips just so, just enough for her to feel him, to feel how desperate he was for her.

“Kate!” His voice was a strangled sound, echoing through the kitchen as she rolled her hips and he slid inside and all Kate could do was nod helplessly her own moan pressed against his chest.

She loved his voice, she’d told him so many times not to be self conscious of it, and he wasn’t here, when they were like this. He let his gasps and moans echo off the walls and the way her name sounded on his lips branded itself against her skin. His hips snapped forward, and one hand kept her hips firmly in place while the other kneaded her breasts softly. His lips tasted like sugar, and something that might have been lemon, and Kate could feel the tension in her stomach coiling tighter already.

Anthony’s hair was falling in his eyes over the bandana that he wore to work most days and his cheeks were flushed and his eyes fluttered closed as though he couldn’t imagine anything better than the feeling of them together. Their hips were moving together faster and faster and Kate’s lungs were burning as her legs started to shake, squeezing around his waist, every second pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck! Anthony!”

“Kate!

They fell over the edge together as quickly as this had started, and Anthonys legs seemed to give way as he shuddered, falling forwards to press her back against the marble of the counter.

Kate let her fingernail trace his spine as their breathing evened out and finally Anthony lifted his head to look at her, a smug smile on his shiny cheeks. “I knew you’d give in.”

Kate rolled her eyes, pushing him off her. “Shut up and make my donuts.” She slapped his arse, “Are they lemon?”

“Lemon meringue, yeah.”

“Lovely,” She hummed, “Get to work.”

[erinnya]

𝐀 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐋

Do you dare to check in? 🛎️

The infamous Overlook Hotel, nestled in the isolated Colorado Rockies, has a dark and mysterious history. Known for its eerie atmosphere and paranormal activity, the hotel has attracted visitors looking for a thrilling experience. This weekend, a group of individuals, each with their own reasons, has checked in. As night falls, strange occurrences begin to happen, turning a weekend getaway into a nightmare. ⸻ imagine yourself in the situation and create your character as they are trapped in a horror movie come true. bonus: get your creative juices flowing and write a oneshot. what happened before the picture? where is your character headed now? are they searching for their friends/the people that arrived with them or are they investigating something different entirely? what else is lurking amongst the shadows?

Die letzten zwei Stunden fehlten. Natürlich nicht ganz grundsätzlich, aber sie fehlten mir. Fuck, nicht schon wieder.

Mein Kopf pochte unangenehm dumpf, und ich hatte Schwierigkeiten, meinen Blick zu fokussieren. Es war fast so, als wären meine Augen eine Kameralinse, die sich nicht scharf stellen lassen wollte. Vielleicht brauchte ich doch eine Brille. Konnte man von einer nicht diagnostizierten Sehstörung nicht Kopfschmerzen oder sogar Migräneanfälle kriegen? Ich hatte da mal irgendwas gelesen. Allerdings bezweifelte ich, dass das Fehlen einer Brille dafür sorgen konnte, dass ich völlig orientierungslos durch die Flure eines Hotels lief, in das ich erst am späten Abend eingecheckt war. Immerhin daran konnte ich mich erinnern, aber danach verschwamm alles. Ich wusste noch, dass ich mir eine eisgekühlte Cola an der Rezeption geordert hatte. Ich erinnerte mich sogar noch an das Prickeln auf meiner Zunge und den kleinen Koffeinkick. Aber danach? Nichts mehr.

Ich blickte an mir hinab und drehte den roten Plastikanhänger mit der eingestanzten Zimmernummer unschlüssig in meiner Hand. Zimmer 237. War ich schon dort gewesen? Vielleicht hatte ich mich frisch gemacht, meine Sachen abgestellt, die Minibar geplündert. Aber auch daran hatte ich keinerlei Erinnerung. Doch es musste so sein, richtig? Immerhin hatte ich keinen Koffer bei mir und ich verspürte weder Hunger, noch den Drang, auf die Toilette zu gehen. Das musste ich vor nicht allzu langer Zeit erledigt haben, vielleicht nach der Cola. Herrgott, reiß dich zusammen. Du kannst dich erinnern, du weißt über alles Bescheid. Du brauchst nur einen Moment …

Ich zwang mich, innezuhalten und tief durchzuatmen. Ein und aus, wie ein normaler Mensch. Wie jemand, der sein Leben im Griff hatte. Der Gedanke ließ mich kurz auflachen, aber dann wurde mir wieder bewusst, dass ich mich hier ganz allein im Flur befand. Schlimm genug, dass ich häufig mit mir selbst redete, jetzt musste ich nicht auch noch anfangen, wie eine Wahnsinnige zu kichern.

Das hier hatte eine Art Wellnesswochenende werden sollen. Mein Vater hatte es mir gebucht, weil er wusste, dass sich hier ein paar weitere junge Leute - teilweise wohl Kinder seiner Geschäftspartner - aufhalten würden. Er hatte behauptet, dass es mir gut tun würde, Zeit unter “meinesgleichen” zu verbringen. Vielleicht hoffte er sogar, dass ich ein wenig in seinem Sinne networken würde, auch wenn ich hoffe, dass er nicht so naiv war. Wir unterhielten uns zwar nicht oft, aber er sollte mich doch gut genug kennen, um zu wissen, dass ich kein Aushängeschild für die Familie Delaney war. Eher im Gegenteil, eigentlich müsste er mich im Anwesen behalten und wegsperren, damit niemand bemerkte, wie anders ich war. Wie ähnlich ich meiner Mutter war.

Ich schluckte und fuhr die drei weißen Ziffern auf dem Zimmerschlüssel mit meinem Daumen nach. 237. 2. 3. 7. zweidreisieben.

Keine Chance, nichts half. Ich fühlte mich unruhig und irgendwie beobachtet. Wieso war es so schummrig hier? Über mir waren altmodische Deckenleuchten installiert, die aber nur wenig Licht spendeten und eher als Zierde durchgingen. Die Muster des Teppichs und der Wände irritierten mich, sie sorgten dafür, dass ich die Augen immer wieder zukniff, weil ich meinte, dass sich um mich herum drehte. Außerdem roch es hier seltsam. Nicht etwa muffig oder abgestanden, sondern eher so wie damals, als ich im Wald nahe dem Anwesen spazieren gegangen war. Ich erinnere mich noch gut an jenen Tag. Die Sonne hatte mir die Nase gebräunt, weil ich zu lang auf meinem Balkon gesessen und gelesen hatte. Irgendwann war ich rastlos geworden und hatte mir eine Flasche Wein aus dem Keller stibitzt, um sie allein und heimlich im Wald zu trinken, wie ich es manchmal tat, wenn ich mich fühlen wollte wie ein echter Teenager.

An jenem Tag hatte ich den gleichen Weg eingeschlagen wie immer, weil ich wusste, dass der mich zu einer hübschen kleinen Lichtung führen würde. Ich hatte die Flasche bereits entkorkt, wollte den Wein aber noch etwas atmen lassen. Ehe ich jedoch dazu kam, ihn zu kosten, stieg mir ein anderer Geruch in die Nase. Einer, den ich bisher noch nicht kannte, der mir jedoch augenblicklich den Magen umdrehte. Es roch süßlich und ein wenig metallisch. Und dann fielen mir die Fliegen auf, deren Bewegung meinen Blick auf das Tier lenkte, das dort auf der Lichtung - meiner Lichtung - lag. Fast hätte man meinen können, dass das Reh schlief, aber als ich etwas näher herantrat, erkannte ich, dass die komplette Bauchregion eine einzige klaffende Wunde war, durch die sich bereits frische Maden wühlten.

Und genau so roch es hier. Süßlich und metallisch. Nicht unbedingt unangenehm, das nicht, aber trotzdem zog mir ein Schauer über den Rücken. Ich zog die Schultern hoch und streckte den Rücken durch, um mir selbst vorzugaukeln, dass ich die Situation im Griff hatte. Plan: du suchst jetzt dein Zimmer und dann nimmst du eine kalte Dusche. Danach wird sich alles regeln.

Ich nickte automatisch, um der Stimme in meinem Kopf zu bestätigen, dass ich einverstanden war mit dem Plan. Ausnahmsweise war das mal keine üble Idee. Ich lief den Flur in eine willkürlich Richtung entlang und stellte schnell fest, dass ich mich bereits im richtigen Stock befand. Ich musste nur noch ein paar weitere Zimmer passieren, dann war ich endlich bei der 237 angekommen. Ich atmete erleichtert durch, weil ich mir sicher war, dass sich nun alles klären würde. Das eben war nur ein kleiner Aussetzer gewesen, das konnte jedem passieren. Ich musste keine Angst haben. Alles war okay, ich war in Sicherheit, und dieser seltsame Geruch hatte nichts zu bedeuten.

Ich setzte ein Lächeln auf, auch wenn ich selbst nicht so recht wusste, für wen es bestimmt war. Dann steckte ich den Schlüssel ins Schloss und öffnete kurz darauf die Tür.

Im Innern des Zimmers war es stockdunkel, irgendwer hatte die schweren Vorhänge zugezogen. Ob das der Zimmerservice nach der Reinigung versäumt hatte? Oder war ich doch schon hier gewesen und hatte keine Lust gehabt auf den Ausblick auf die schneebedeckte Landschaft Colorados? Ich tastete nach dem Lichtschalter, doch reagierte die Deckenlampe nicht. Vielleicht war die Birne defekt oder der Schalter hatte eineStörung. Langsam war ich etwas genervt, weil dieser Ausflug, auf den ich sowieso keine Lust gehabt hatte, sich immer mehr zu einer Katastrophe entwickelte. Energisch lief ich los, durch den stockfinsteren Raum, bis ich das Zimmer durchquert hatte und die Vorhänge mit einem Ruck aufzog. Draußen war es zwar auch bereits dunkel, aber die schneeweiße Schneelandschaft reflektierte die Lichter der Laternen, die auf dem Außengelände angebracht waren, so dass ich nun auch mein eigenes Zimmer begutachten konnte.

Ich drehte mich um und fror fast augenblicklich in meiner Bewegung ein. Denn ich war nicht allein im Zimmer. Mein Blick fiel sofort zu der Tür, die ins Badezimmer führte. Sie war nur halb geschlossen, so dass ich gut durch den offenen Spalt hineinsehen konnte. Ich sah die Badewanne, und erkannte sofort, dass darin jemand saß. Am hellen Keramikrand rann eine Flüssigkeit herab, die stetig auf den gefliesten Boden tropfte. Ich hörte das Geräusch, auch wenn ich nicht sicher war, ob ich es nur tat, weil mein Hirn mir das tap tap tap vorgaukelte, da es so perfekt zur Szenerie passte. Mir stockte der Atem, aber ich dachte zu keiner Sekunde daran zu fliehen. Stattdessen näherte ich mich dem Badezimmer, schob die Tür gänzlich auf und betrachtete die vor mir liegende Szene. Eine ältere Frau befand sich in der Wanne, die zur Hälfte mit Wasser gefüllt war, das sich inzwischen rot gefärbt hatte. Der von Falten übersäte Körper der Frau war so blass, dass er fast mit dem Weiß der Fliesen verschmolz. Sie musste sehr viel Blut verloren haben.

Ich wartete darauf, dass der Schock einsetzte, aber nichts geschah. Sollte ich nicht Angst verspüren? Panik? Die Flucht antreten? Ich zog den Zimmerschlüssel aus meiner Manteltasche und betrachtete ihn erneut. 237. Das hier war gar nicht mein Zimmer. Nachdenklich kaute ich auf meiner spröden Unterlippe, bis ich Blut schmeckte. Ich sollte wieder öfter Vaseline benutzen, vor allem hier in der Eiseskälte. Allmählich kehrte die Schärfe in meinen Blick zurück. Ich nahm jedes kleine Detail im Raum wahr. Den noch halb beschlagenen Spiegel über dem Waschbecken, der mir signalisierte, dass das Bad der Frau noch nicht allzu lang her sein konnte. Vielleicht war ihr Körper sogar noch warm? Ich trat näher an sie heran und streckte eine Hand aus. Mit den Fingern strich ich ihr behutsam die feuchten, grauen Strähnen aus der Stirn. Der Ausdruck auf ihrem Gesicht wirkte befremdlich. Sie sah so aus, als hätte sie jemand mitten im Satz unterbrochen, als hätte sie noch etwas sagen wollen.

“Nein, nein, bitte nicht! Wieso tust du das? Bitte, nein, ich …” Ich hörte diese Worte wie ein Echo, und dann tastete ich mit der Hand in meine andere Manteltasche. Die, die sich etwas schwerer anfühlte. Meine Fingerspitzen trafen auf etwas Kühles, Feuchtes, das ich schließlich vorsichtig aus meiner Tasche zog und im diffusen Licht des Badezimmers betrachtete. Ich erkannte meine eigenen blassen Züge in dem Metall des Jagdmessers, das ich in den Händen hielt. An der Schneide klebte Blut, und nun bemerkte ich auch das Blut an meinen eigenen Händen, das mir zuvor nicht aufgefallen war. Ich musste an das denken, was die Stimme mir eingeflüstert hatte. Sie hatte gewollt, dass ich in mein Zimmer ging und eine Dusche nahm.

Sie hatte ganz genau gewusst, was mich hier erwarten würde. Sie hatte es gewusst, weil sie dafür verantwortlich war . . .

tagged by @ausgetrieben ♥ tagging @grcbmal, @vcnenum, @kettensaege, @concreete-jungle

[sarula]

Got tagged by @rivetgoth and @lysistra to do a fun music poll!

Char I’m not gonna lie, I have only listened to Metanoia so I voted based on the songs you posted. I picked Martin Dupont even though I can hear you in IAMX and Culture Club and the last one a little bit! ! Severed Heads was much too scary to be you.

Angel, yours was so easy. Love’s Secret Domain. Though I have not listened to that TR/ST album to weigh that one in the mix.

I’m gonna tag @glass-blown-eyes and @tin-omen and @charliemonroe if anyone is interested

So the tag is:

"List your top 5 albums from your top 5 artists (can't have a repeat of the same artist) on a poll, so your followers can vote which album they think captures your vibe the best

[josiebelladonna]

you know, i’m starting to get a little depressed about alex being on bluesky.

the big social media sites are coming down fast and it’s only a matter of time before it all goes that way (if you don’t believe me, look at threads as of late: i looked at one post outside of my feed two days ago and that’s all my feed is now. i have to scroll way down to see my friends or anyone i follow anymore. and i’ve learned that that’s usually the kiss of death for sites because that tells me their algorithm is too sharp for its own good. pinterest went that way and as a result, i stopped using it about two years ago). the general collective is too polarized for its own good so you have sites like truth social and bluesky being wildly popular and the carved little spaces to be your weird self, i.e., the era before social media grew absolutely gargantuan, back when sites looked different from each other, is pretty much buried at this point. trust me, “it looks like a twitter” is not a good thing.

worst case scenario, i never see him again.

the other thing about it that depresses me is, like i said yesterday, he’s like me in that he errs on the liberal side but he’s not *that* liberal, though—that was one of the reasons why i was so drawn to him back in 2020, he was like the one person on twitter who wasn’t shrieking his lungs out and he felt like a breath of fresh air to me. and now he’s resorted to truth social for the left because Twitter is too far gone now. not his fault at all, that’s not at all what i’m saying. what i’m saying is we as a whole have completely lost the plot and have fractured the things that were meant for all of us. what i’m saying is we as a whole have made everything overly black and white when life just isn’t like that. this is bad.

and this has nothing to do with it but i still think whatsername is a bad influence on him. take your pick from putting him in situations where he can very easily be bit or cut and exposed to things like parasites and rabies, to recommending him “healthier” food and let me explain this: i think it’s just a lifestyle thing but his weight has really been all over the place in the last couple of months alone. (i’m putting my own pleasure principle on the back burner here with this, too). a huge part of my own weight loss has been eating a lot less: it’s why i was able to lose 100 pounds at this point and be a baker and surround myself with sugar and butter; i don’t eat nearly as much as i used to 100 pounds ago. it could just be a metabolic thing (he is in his mid-50s now, your metabolism does slow down as you enter your 50s), but trust me when i say this: if he’s trying to lose weight, i’m afraid he’s not going to get very far with it because he’s actually not eating very healthy. he may be eating something vegan and healthy in her hollow, dead eyes, but he enjoys his pastries, though. and when i say this, this is not me being kinky. it’s me thinking that he’s trying to escape from her and he’s feeling guilty about it.

today is international men’s day. back right the fuck off. men need as much love and respect as we get, and they don’t have nearly as much resources as we do in dark situations, and he’s a good example of that. if anything, he’s why i’m like this, being all boy crazy and writing this. i’m as temperamental as i’ve been lately because i love him and i care about his wellbeing and i fucking despise her. a big part of why i’ve gotten into jewish recipes is because of him (and also me being a “mensch”). i do it out of love. everything i do is out of love.

i miss the 2021-2022 era of alex, when he was sweet and friendly to all of us. now he’s got his head so far up her ass that he’s going to drown in her shit.

“the butcher” is a nickname well-earned. and now i burn.

[doberbutts]

have you seen Demon (2015)? I watched it the other day back-to-back with Minyan (2020), and i want to write a bit about both of them - Minyan does some interesting stuff where it establishes a disillusioned American Jewish boy as wanting to join the IDF bc he's excluded from Jewish community as a Russian, and immediately contrasts that small moment with readings from James Baldwin

Demon is a retelling of the Dybbuk, but with a gentile polish family having a wedding and slowly unfolding that like, some of the family's wealth is directly a result of the pogroms, and there's one last old mensch left in the village who everyone brushes off as a crazy old Jew, but his performance was so evocative and hit me really hard

Demon like. i don't think i've ever seen a film before that's so much about Jewish suffering from a gentile perspective, and ends in the gentile going. fucking hell. what my family have done and what i've been complicit in - knowingly and unknowingly - is insurmountable, and i can no longer be even remotely a part of it. i must walk away.

sorry if you don't want film recs btw! like no pressure to watch either of these or chat about them if you'd rather not, i just read your post about schindler's list and it made me think about why Demon made such an impact on me compared to similar films about like. gentiles being heroes saving Jewish ppl from suffering rather than Demon which has more of like. walking away from omelas vibes in a way i actually kind of appreciated

In general, I don't watch a lot of Holocaust movies. Not because I don't care about Jewish suffering or the history behind them, but because I know for a fact that people were tortured and quite brutally in the camps, and I am very triggered by torture and it will give me a panic attack in which I will vomit and cry and curl up into a little ball rocking back and forth for the next several hours to days. I have been fairly reliably told it's a PTSD-like response to a fairly grievous injury in which I was held down and stitched up at the hospital rather than given adequate sedative or pain control, as that's about when my problem with watching people in inescapable pain began.

So I have not seen these movies, because as said I tend to avoid genres and settings in which I know there is a fairly good chance that there will be explicit torture or torture-like despair inducing scenes.

However I do appreciate the film recs! I just may not be able to really follow up on them, is all.

[christmasintheloonybin]

I honestly forgot about Halloween, oh man I'm remembering now Halloween 2019, my gf who I was deeply in love with had broken up with me shortly before and I can remember going to work and being in this mode where I just felt like, what the fuck why does any of this matter. because when we were dating I could go to work and have my stupid pointless little life and then get out of work and have a reason to live talking to her. because she was so smart and cool. and I just really liked her a lot. pretty much every meaningful relationship I have had has been extremely codependent and a kind of escapism like we have our fantasy world and everything else is meaningless. which is not a good way to live. also on Halloween 2019 I went to the record store and bought a copy of Halber Mensch on vinyl for $15 I was so psyched. this is one of my records still I am so happy to just have even in a box. there's maybe ten records I'm really happy even though I don't care about vinyl anymore.

[ichesserosinen]

what's your favourite quote from anything (can be a book/movie/person/meme or whatever, and it doesn't have to be super philosophical either, just something you liked when you heard it)

Nun ja, von denen gibts einen ganzen Haufen, also wird das wahrscheinlich ziemlich lang werden. Außerdem bin ich zu faul, die ganzen Zitate hier wörtlich aufzuschreiben, das meiste werde ich nur sinngemäß wiedergeben.

Politisch habe ich natürlich ein paar Lieblingszitate. Als guter deutscher Bildungsbürger zählt natürlich dazu: "Die Würde des Menschen ist unantastbar. Es ist die Aufgabe jeder staatlicher Gewalt sie zu schützen." Es ist für mich einer der wichtigsten Grundsätze, die sich das deutsche Volk in den letzten dreihundert Jahren seiner Geschichte zu eigen gemacht hat. Alle Menschen sind gleich, und alle Menschen verdienen Respekt. Alle weiteren Grundsätze folgen hierraus.

"Lebe und lasse leben." Wie Stefan Zweig, einer meiner Lieblingsautoren gesagt hat, ist dieser typisch Wiener Satz schlichtweg humaner als Kants Kategorischer Imperativ. Es ist kein unerreichbarer moralischer Befehl, sondern eine einfache Aufforderung, dein Gegenüber mit Anstand zu behalten.

Sinngemäß hat Lincoln mal gesagt: "Dieses Land [die Vereinigten Staaten] kleidet sich nur in der Freiheit, während Millionen ihrer Bürger noch in Ketten sind. Ich sollte in eine ehrliche Despotie ziehen, beispielsweise Russland, wo sich die Tyrannei immerhin nicht mit den fremden Federn der Freiheit schmückt." Es ist eben immer wichtig, nationale Narrative zu hinterfragen.

Jetzt ein paar philosophische Zitate:

Erstmal der große Grundsatz der Philosophie:

"Aufklärung ist der Ausgang des Menschen aus seiner selbstverschuldeten Unmündigkeit. Unmündigkeit ist das Unvermögen, sich seines Verstandes ohne Leitung eines anderen zu bedienen. Selbstverschuldet ist diese Unmündigkeit, wenn die Ursache derselben nicht am Mangel des Verstandes, sondern der Entschließung und des Muthes liegt, sich seiner ohne Leitung eines anderen zu bedienen. Sapere aude! Habe Muth, dich deines eigenen Verstandes zu bedienen! ist also der Wahlspruch der Aufklärung." Dazu muss man eigentlich nicht mehr sagen. Um Brian zu zitieren: You're all Individuals! You all have to think for yourselves!

Ein weiterer meiner Lieblingsautoren ist John Steinbeck, von dem ich ganz besonders Jenseits von Eden liebe. Die beste Stelle der amerikanischen Literatur findet sich darin, eine Neuübersetzung einer der Zehn Gebote: "Du kannst über die Sünde herrschen. [...] Der Weg liegt offen vor dir. [Der Mensch] kann seinen Weg erwählen, kann ihn bis zu Ende kämpfen und kann siegen." Mein Gott, allein beim Durchblättern bin ich kurz vorm Flennen. Dieses Buch musst du unbedingt lesen, drakenhart!

Neulich habe ich Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood gesehen, also: "Freunde sind ein Teil deiner Seele!" Fuck Yeah! Und: "Aber, Alchemist, bist du nicht nur ein einfacher Mensch, wenn du deine Alchemie verlierst? Nein, denn ich werde weiterhin meine Freunde behalten! Richtig, Alchemist! Du hast mich geschlagen!" Die Verbindung mit anderen Lebewesen, die Nächstenliebe ist das einzige, was dem Leben einen Sinn geben kann. Oder, wie es das Musical Les Mis ausgedrückt hat: "To love another person is to see the face of god."

Ein weiteres schönes Zitat stammt noch von Thomas Mann: "und ohne Mut zu dem Versuche, auch sich selbst noch zu täuschen, vermochte er von allen Gedanken, die schwer, wirr und ruhelos seinen Kopf erfüllten, nur den einen, verzweifelten festzuhalten, dass Thomas Buddenbrook mit zweiundvierzig Jahren ein ermatteter Mann war." Ich habe Angst davor, solch ein Mensch zu werden.

Und zuletzt noch etwas kleines von Sappho:

"Untergegangen sind der Mond

Und die Pleiaden: Inmitten

Der Nacht, vorbei geht die Zeit,

Und ich schlafe allein."

[johnnyutah]

being attracted to men is so fucking stupid i just called this guy a mensch and he leaned in and said What was that? What did you say? and i said MENSCH and he said “MUNCH? Like the ice spice song?”.

[ilikereadingactually]

The Archive Undying

The Archive Undying by Emma Mieko Candon

WOW, this is a ride, in so many ways. i really dig sff that drops me in without explanations and lets me learn the world through context, and i adore a book that really asks me to do a lot of thinking and piecing together and interpreting subtleties. i'm a go-with-the-flow reader, i don't really go back to look again at anything or look up words as i read, i trust the narrative to make sense eventually. this book satisfies and rewards all of that!! i found it a little denser than is ideal for me, but dense in that lush, humid way where you're a little out of breath all the time. i don't think i fully have a grasp on the world or the nuances of the plot, which makes it feel pleasantly surreal and makes me really excited for the next book.

i do feel fully invested in and in love with the main characters, which makes the whole thing work for me. Sunai is such a mensch!!! Veyadi tries hard and loves with ragged edges! everyone is a personality and a delight even when they're deceiving each other and switching sides and screwing up and hating themselves, and i think it's because Sunai's pov is so tender and generous. he's a big mess, and is willing to accept and forgive the messiness of the people he loves; how could he, wounded as he is, expect anyone else to be flawless? it makes me love him, and makes me love everyone who loves him.

other highlights for me are the complexities of personhood presented here: there are corrupted AI gods and humans damaged by their interfaces, there are intelligences within intelligences and fragments of being and surprising mergers of thought and self. it's like a political conflict happening inside a funhouse, with pleasingly incomplete religious underpinnings that put me in mind of A Psalm for the Wild-Built, except it's nothing like that book at all in tone or temperament. also, mlm main characters, which seems fairly rare still in this kind of epic speculative fiction, plus interesting gender things going on in general! also also, i'm such a sucker for Asian-based sff worlds, and this one has that feel: some East Asian, some Southeast, some South, flavoring the names and the language and the food and the feel without any one-to-one mapping of cultures in this book onto cultures in the real world.

the deets

how i read it: an e-galley through NetGalley, from the elusive Tor, my current fave publisher just pumping out bangers all the time. upon getting access to this i felt the way you do when a cat chooses to sniff your hand.

try this if you: like to float and be carried by beautiful prose in a vast and deep moving landscape you can never see all of at once, enjoy queers making bad choices for good reasons, dig a book where the relationships are varied and interesting and often sexual without any of the usual "romantic" tropes, have feelings about questions of selfhood, or understand revenge but prefer mercy.

maybe not for you if: you get very frustrated by books that move fast without explaining much, and books that are purposefully playing with mysterious perspectives and voices. this book does not show its cards, and i love that but i know it can be a dealbreaker for some.

some lines i really liked: this is a loooong book so i picked out a few.

It is excruciating to behold. Sunai understands that they know each other. He and Imaru first met Ruhi when he and she were still running together, and Imaru brought Ruhi's letter to Ghamor only a couple of months ago. None of that mitigates the bodily shock of seeing them together. Talking. The panicked realization that they could talk to each other about him--that they have likely already done this--compels Sunai to interrupt.

...

He never imagined that Ruhi might already have chosen to do the damnable thing himself. It makes him feel a certain fuck of a way.

...

"It killed the sentinel-fowl," says Veyadi.

By the counter, Imaru stills. "What?"

"I killed the sentinel-fowl," Sunai clarifies.

"That isn't explaining," says Jin. "What do you mean you killed it? Lay it out plain for those of us who aren't fondling each other's neurons."

pub date: June 27, 2023!