#while ryan screams PREACH!!

[charliewrites99]

If we post enough about Oliver "loving and wanting bt to become deeper" maybe we can goad him into dropping the exact time stamp of the break-up.

[la-pheacienne]

Rewatched the finale and I dont understand peoples comparison between rhaenyras look to danys angry look in season 8? Rhaenyra doesnt look angry, vengeful and ready to take action in that last shot, she just looks upset and helpless which would fit with their narrative of women not having any agency and we'll probably just keep getting more of this. More men being violent and interesting and having importance to the plot and more women crying and simply reacting to the men while more and more of the audience grows to hate or ignore them for their passivity. And now with the interviews from ryan basically saying they're going to start villainizing the blacks? Which will just feed into the green fans misogynistic idea that rhaenyra shouldnt be queen. Like honestly I dont have any hope left for this show

Yeah nonnie personally all I saw was an extremely sad face. I wanted more from Rhaenyra in the finale. There is no comparison between that and Dany's angry look in season 8 but I would personally rather NOT think about Dany in season 8 because I will go insane.

American writers of GRRM's work adaptations can write three types of arc for women 1) torture porn arc (Sansa, Alicent) 2) evil psycho whore arc (Dany) 3) girl-boss/cool girl arc (Arya). There are variations, not every woman falls into one of the categories, but the main female characters do, so I think in Rhaenyra's case we go from a torture porn arc into an evil psycho whore arc. Except if they keep the torture porn arc for at least one more season while showing Daemon decapitating everyone in his vicinity and beating the shit out of his wife for fun, which is a probability.

Ryan's interview was absolutely AGONY to read and has convinced me that season 2 is going to be horrible. They really fucked everything up. I'm considering laying off, I know many fans who support the Blacks will, and the Tumblr fanbase of HotD will become like a bunch of Tumblrinas preaching ✨💖 DUTY AND SACRIFICE 💖✨, glorifying women crying as a personality trait and screaming 😭😭ALL THAT MISERY WAS FOR NOTHING THERE IS NO POINT IN THIS WAR😭😭 when what they specifically mean by that is that there was no point in Rhaenyra even trying to claim her throne because she's a woman so she should have left the throne to her brother.

But then I'm like, no, actually, I'm not ready to lay off just yet, I will continue reminding people of their stupidity for a little longer.

[inkmemes]

ryan  ross  lyric sentence  starters ↪  taken  from  various  songs  he’s  written,  lyrics  he’s  sung,  &  poetry  he’s  penned.  trigger  warnings  for  mentions  of  sex,  cheating,  drugs.  alter  as  you  see  fit  ♡

“so close …”

“i am composing a burlesque.”

“i'm all alone in an afterglow.”

“but we haven’t even met yet.”

“this war ain't gonna fix itself.”

“you can’t be lonely.”

“you're gonna have to dig your way out.”

“she was nowhere to be seen.”

“some people never change.”

“i know i broke your heart. mine is broken too.”

“i'm carving pumpkins.”

“i'm afraid that i may have faked it.”

“though you tried to cut me down it wasn’t deep enough.”

“this may call for a proper introduction.”

“i know it’s mad.”

“all the lights are on, but no one's home.”

“a year ago, i was dreaming of where i am now.”

“charm your way out.”

“we're all too small to talk to god.”

“you’re invited.”

“it's not so pleasant.”

“if you're going, then go.”

“i was suspicious and naive.”

“we're still so young, desperate for attention.”

“things have changed for me, and that's okay.”

“that's the spirit.”

“watch your mouth.”

“it started with a simple kiss.”

“don't you move.”

“what a wonderful caricature of intimacy.”

“we'll never go hungry.”

“praying for love in a lap dance and paying in naivety.”

“i lie in silence and feel like a fool.”

“grab your hat and fetch a camera.”

“your eyes are the size of the moon.”

“it's time for us to take a chance.”

“you should take this heart of mine.”

“how did i get here in the right from wrong?”

“i know it just doesn't feel like a night out.”

“it just made her more interesting.”

“she didn't even see me.”

“do you know what i mean?”

“i'm wrecking this evening already, and loving every minute of it.”

“i sure do make an easy target.”

“someone i love loves someone else.”

“don't bother waiting up.”

“don’t you go down.”

“you vanished when you'd gotten what you came here for.”

“would it be alright if we just sat and talked for a little while?”

"when did he get all confident?"

“you know it will always just be me.”

“i feel the same.”

“all my forgotten poems are a joke.”

“she'd wanna kiss you all the time.”

“i want a big celebration.”

“i'll ignore my heart and lie to the truth.”

“film the world before it happens.”

“that's just ridiculously odd.”

“it grows like fancy flowers.”

“he tried to save the calendar business.”

“i wonder if this was physical or if it could have been in my head.”

“i wouldn't be caught dead in this place.”

“you're pulling the trigger all wrong.”

“i saw you, i met you, i loved you.”

“so let me set you free.”

“i'm aware that you're scared of my heart, but it's here.”

“northern downpour sends its love.”

“you better put that pen to paper.”

“if you're gonna preach, for god sakes, preach with conviction.”

“haven't you heard that i'm the new cancer?”

“i know i broke your heart.”

“i am something velveteen.”

“we're locked inside.”

“just don't put your teeth on me.”

“when i’m good, i’m the baddest.”

“i’m up, looking for you now.”

“you can call me tonight.”

“it sure as hell ain't normal.”

“haven't you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?!”

“we sure are in for a show tonight.”

“can't take the kid from the fight.”

“she's got me twisted in love.”

“i could've waited for the train to come.”

“you could love me if i knew how to lie.”

“if it were me, i'd write another song.”

“i fell from the heavens as a fetish.”

“i am renewed.”

“i hope that i've still got your help.”

“take a look at what you got me into.”

“we should feed our jewelry to the sea.”

“who could ask for any more?”

“i'm pouring out my heart for paper.”

“i need to leave you but i never will.”

“i forgot how to call you.”

“just stay where i can see you.”

“it's the greatest thing that's yet to have happened.”

“i’m doing my best.”

“she didn't choose this role.”

“life is not a fairytale.”

“our loneliness will keep us warm.”

“i don't mind taking a photograph.”

“you're gonna bend until it breaks.”

“maybe something in my blood could lift my spirits up.”

“i am out of my mind.”

“imagine knowing me.”

“i hope it's where i belong.”

“is it still me that makes you sweat?”

“your speech is slurred enough that you just might swallow your tongue.”

“i must be lucky to have you be the one who loves me.”

“but who could love me?”

“you clicked your heels and wished for me.”

“give me your attention.”

“you set the house on fire.”

"man, it feels good to feel this way."

“i've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck then any boy you'll ever meet.”

“if the clouds were singing a song, i'd sing along. wouldn't you, too?”

“i know i've been wrong.”

“kissed a girl in the lobby ‘cause she asked so politely.”

“i can't get out by myself.”

“true love like ours is worth so much more than a diamond ring.”

“it never made her happy, 'cause she couldn't ever have me.”

“i do drunk dialing minus the alcohol.”

“i hope to god he was worth it.”

“he looked like he was barely hanging on.”

“why do i find myself outside at your window in the night?”

“i'd put a statue of myself upon the shelf.”

“they spill unfound from a pretty mouth.”

“ i'm going to need you to keep time.”

“you better back your shit up.”

“i think i owe it to you to try to be every hallucination you see in me.”

“you do this all the time."

“you're not what he's thinking of when he's with the other girl.”

things have changed for me.”

“this was no accident.”

“it's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality.”

“just sit back and relax.”

“i, for one, won't stand for this.”

“we play by donner party rules at all times.”

“the glitter is gone.”

“boys will be boys.”

“you're all that's left for me.”

“my mind is all mixed up.”

“who knew that love was a dangerous drug?”

“'she couldn't ever have me.”

“isn't this exactly where you'd like me?”

“we can play normal for a few days.”

“i ground my teeth and you bite your tongue.”

“in case i lost my train of thought where was it that we last left off?”

“it seems i’m someone i've never met.”

“i think i made you up.”

“it never gave a damn about me.”

“perhaps, i was born with curiosity, the likes of those of old crows.”

“i'm cold, i'm hungry, but i'm bored.”

“i don't want no gifts.”

“the monster mash is playing.”

“do you really even live here?”

“this kind of thing always happens.”

“you were right. i was wrong, like i always am.”

“i missed your skin when you were east.”

“i feel as if i’m a figurine.”

“every night is the same.”

“ i'm sure i didn't ruin her.”

“i could have sworn we danced slow before.”

“i'm seated and sweating to a dance song on the club's pa.”

“it's nice to think that you are always wanted.”

“am i who you think about in bed?”

“you'll never know until you're there.”

“come on, this is screaming ‘photo op’.”

“you and i will always be ‘the dream’.”

“any practiced catholic would cross themselves upon entering.”

“it was a scream when we were young and dumb.”

“i know i should've never left.”

“who can i believe?”

“she always had her fangs at my jugular vein.”

“and a few more of your least favorite things.”

“in matters of opinion, love has gone insane.”

“if i go to hell will you come with me or just leave?”

“in the house of mirrors, ain't nothing keep you safe.”

“you know that you feel it too.”

“now we're making some progress.”

“god damn, i’d hate to see what i’d do under the influence.”

“i’m only reflecting your perfections.”

“just a first kiss to face the new year.”

“we’ll sit in silence.”

“you're a regular decorated emergency.”

“euphoria is a risk on the floor.”

“she could never win me.”

“love is all i'm really after.”

“have some composure,.”

“this was a therapeutic chain of events.”

“on the hotel floor, drinking warm champagne.”

“we need to talk.”

“every word gets you a step closer to hell.”

“let me help you please.”

“i never said i missed her when everybody kissed her.”

“now i know it's just a matter of time until i make her come.”

“if the world were ending, would you kiss me or just leave me?”

“forgive me if i’m not quite ready to give them to you.”

“i want to know what everyone knows.”

“you told me not to fear the dark.”

“the weather is impeccable.”

“i don't love you, i'm just passing the time.”

“i can't help but to hear an exchanging of words.”

“love is established philosophy.”

“but it might’ve been the calm that comes before the storm.”

“let's sing it like you mean it.”

“there's a devil in the corner.”

“there’s never anything good on tv.”

“everything goes according to plan.”

“i ran from love like it was laced.”

“i guess we're back to us.”

“we can't help ourselves.”

“i remember fuckin' in the falling rain.”

“i wasn't born to be a skeleton.”

“i couldn't quit her.”

“everything's gone missing.”

“we must reinvent love.”

“i know it's sad that i never gave a damn about the weather.”

“what do i know?”

"the best part about you was me."

“check the pocket of my leather jacket.”

“i am truly made of one million glowing constellations.”

“i mean, technically our marriage is saved.”

“she's a dangerous place.”

“even the truth is wrong sometimes.”

“was it god who chokes in these situations?”

“i feel like something on strings.”

“she couldn't ever catch me.”

“i try not to think about it and you.”

“i know it's just a matter of time.”

“i can't prove this makes any sense, but i sure hope that it does.”

“you know you should take it a day at a time.”

“i never said i’d leave the city.”

“it's the greatest thing you'd ever imagine.”

“i might have lost control.”

“i'm in a rut but still adored.”

“i'll keep my distance.”

“i need to take a vacation.”

“it's almost halloween.”

“is it a fairy tale?”

“well, this calls for a toast, so pour the champagne.”

“you can't stand it.”

“i'm exactly where you'd like me, you know.”

“we were always thick as thieves, you and me.”

“maybe i will, maybe i won’t.”

“all i want to do is dig a hole with you.”

“stop stalling.”

“it truly is enough to be alive and be in love.”

“i can't believe my eyes.”

“if i were to die tonight, would you cry, or deny my place in your life?”

“you are at the top of my lungs.”

“things do like to build up and fall apart at the same time for me.”

“why can't we just be friends?"

“i never know where the evening goes.”

“i want to go where everyone feels the same.”

“i fell in love again.”

“all i do is lie.”

“they asked for it.”

“was it all a dream?”

“all your wishes, they will sink like stones.”

“i wandered through the sunshine.”

“living even one minute without you is a moment i'd rather not have to live to see.”

“i want to go where everyone goes.”

“i think that i have had enough.”

“asked to be her husband; she already had one in prison.”

“true love is scarce.”

“somehow it still came undone.”

“things are shaping up to be pretty odd.”

“is ‘young’ a word for ‘dumb’; a word for ‘fun’?”

“said i'd let you keep it forever.”

“i never said i’d leave this town.”

“guess i'm going to a party.”

“damn, this is rough.”

“someone should have told her that pretty ain't a job.”

“something changed along the way.”

“i can't convince myself that you were good for more than cheap thrills.”

“now i’m the only one to blame.”

“let's not get selfish.”

“i hardly knew a thing about you.”

“give your feet a chance, they'll do all the thinking.”

“make a name for yourself.”

“it's useless searching in the cupboards.”

“i won't cut my beard and i won't change my hair.”

“it’s just the end of the world.”

“back to the room where it all began.”

“what was it that you put into my guts?”

“what a shame.”

“we'll leave the past out to pasture.”

“i know the world’s a broken bone, but melt your headaches, call it home.”

“everybody knows it but you.”

“it looks like the end of history as we know.”

[chvtcxsangria]

“I’m no longer a daughter, no longer a girl with dreams and no longer with hope. I’m a WEAPON.”

(ELIZABETH OLSEN, 345, SHE/HER) We have been waiting for a while, but ALINA ERIKKSON was finally spotted in the village today. People heard whispers that they are a HERETIC that is hellbent on FIXING the veils. Will they succeed? Only time can tell. Until then we will keep a close eye on them as they listen to CONTROL BY HALSEY. 

trigger warnings;; torture, death, 

P L A Y L I S T 

our solemn hour by within temptation X madness by ruelle X paint in black (cover) by hidden citizens X trip the darkness by lacuna coil X again by flyleaf X fly on the wall by thousand foot krutch X creeping in my soul by cryoshell X ashes in the wind by straight line stitch X lovely (cover) by lauren babic X can anybody hear me by adona X when it’s all over by raign 

“Do you remember the sweet innocent girl? The one you thought will be so easily manipulated? The one you thought won’t fight back? Yeah, me neither.” 

Alina Erikkson was born in the year of 1667 on Ole’ Hallows Eve and was brought into this cruel, cruel world as an orphan. Her father had died months earlier due to a mysterious illness and her mother? She died shortly before her daughter was brought into the world. 

Evelyn Wilson was found in the woods, laying in the middle of an altar with the village’s Priest found her in the knick of time. He saw she was already gone but her swollen stomach still had movement in it and he acted. Saying a quick prayer to God, the Priest took his hunting blade to the woman’s stomach and cut into the flesh - moments later the screeching cry of a newborn baby filled the cold fall air. 

Distraught over how the baby was brought into the world, the Priest’s wife begged him to allow them to keep the child for themselves since God had yet to bless them with any of their own. Eventually though .... the family did. At the age of four Alina became a big sister to twins William and Winnifred. 

For a short time things were good with the family but when Alina reached the age of nine is when things started to get weird around her and not long after caused her to be withdrawn from the family. She found solace in the church of the attic her Father preached at. It was safe and quiet -- away from civilians. 

Keeping herself at a distance and staying away from the mundane did great for Alina. There was no more accidents and she thanked God for that. 

Fast forward to Alina recently turning twenty six years old and yes, she still hid away in the church attic and kept her distance from mostly everyone. When it got night time she would venture off to the hospital and attend to the sick patients there, usually the ones who are doomed and left to die ALONE. Alina kept them company until death came for them. 

The last patient Alina attended too was dying of a mysterious illness. She had fever, chills and could not stop coughing up blood. Of course she kept her distance from the woman in fear of infection, but it never stopped her for putting flowers in the dying crone’s room. On her last night of life the old woman lifted her arm from the bed and gripped onto Alina tight. She doesn’t know what happened but instantly she felt powerful and before Alina could say anything to the woman or ask her what just happened, the old crone mustered up a ‘thank you’ before passing away. 

After that Alina quickly left the place and acted fast in disposing the clothes she wore and bathed in the village’s river. The entire time she just kept replaying that moment in her. Desperate and becoming afraid of what happened, she ran to her family’s home after putting on some clothes. 

When arriving to her family home, Alina found no one there but her sister Winnifred. The favorite daughter -- everyone’s little ray of sunshine and the one person who didn’t make Alina feel weird when talking about anything that is not mundane. 

Though this time .... this conversation was different to Alina. When explaining to her sister of what happened, Winnifred became afraid -- very afraid and asked Alina to go back to her hole and stay there. Hurt by her words and even more so when Winnifred began to shove her out of the house something else happened. 

When Alina grabbed a hold of Winnifred, something happened just like at the hospital but instead of a thank you from a dying crone this time it was Winnifred screaming in pain. She almost felt like she was sucking the life out of Winnifred and when Alina let go -- it was too late. 

Their Father had came home to find Winnifred on the floor, nothing like her old bright self but was a shell of it and just kept muttering Alina’s name. Becoming officially fearful of his adoptive daughter he lead a manhunt against her and by dawn Alina found herself doomed to hang come sunrise of the next day, 

As she laid in her dark cell and awaited for them to come and bring her to Death, Alina dreamt about a particular man she had come to recently meeting. He was tall and mysterious, a man who seemed particularly interested in her and her gifts. His name? Leo Ryan and unknown to her this man was an ORIGINAL VAMPIRE. 

The Original became drawn to Alina and the nature of how she kept to herself all while ignoring the whispers of the village people. Something in her gut told the witch to trust him and she did. Prior to running to her family’s home after the death of the crone, Alina ran to him completely scared she could’ve caught the plague. Even though she kept mostly to herself she wasn’t ready to die -- not yet. 

Realizing he had fell for the siphoner, Leo gave the woman some wine laced with his blood before Alina ran off to her family’s home before he himself left to attend to something that caught his attention. Of course before they went their separate ways, Alina promised to meet him in two days time. 

Due to this and unaware of what was in her system, Alina screamed and tried to run when being dragged to the noose. ‘Please, I won’t touch anyone ever again!’, ‘I didn’t mean too, forgive me!’ They all ignored her and the cries only gotten worse as the rope hanged around her neck. 

She stood there as the Mayor listed her crimes and many of the villagers began to whisper, saying she deserves a more cruel death than the rope. Some of them were saying she should be burned for she was a slave to the Devil himself. When asked if she had any last words, Alina knew this was the end and she looked to the villagers before settling her eyes on her so called FAMILY. 

As she kept her eyes on them, Alina felt something build up in her and it was familiar to her. It was the same energy she felt course through her after touching the crone and Winnifred. The executioner asked her once more for she knew it was pointless to beg for her life. What life did she even really live anyways? Some words that Leo had said to her came to mind, telling her to embrace the energy she felt within her and to not deny it or eventually it will take control of her. “You want a witch? FINE.” If she was going to die, why not leave them all scarred and tarnish the family name? 

‘Burn her!’ some of the villagers finally spoke up and chanted it. Alina closed her eyes and thought hard on the fire, on how the flames felt, the way they danced in the fire pit her family owned. Screams became heard before her which made the woman open her eyes to see a fire erupted all around her. After that everything went black to the woman. 

Her first memory when waking up was standing in a burnt field and had no piece of fabric on her. The only thing she had on her was the soot smeared across her body and her throat burned, desperately begging her body to drink something. What Alina didn’t realize at the time was she was reborn as a vampire (she later on learned she was a heretic). Stumbling through the field she eventually made it to the village with no memory of who she was and became disgusted seeing bodies all over the small town. Throats ripped out among other things. 

As she navigated through the bodies Alina managed to find a simple dress to wear and wondered what happened to everyone. Her answer soon came when she caught someone running at the corner of her eyes and with her newfound speed Alina suddenly found herself at the source of the sobs. It was a man in his early twenties: it was William. 

William stared at her and it was like seeing a ghost with Alina before him. He was completely scared and kept his distance from the woman. “Your ... your suppose to be dead, Alina! How are you alive?” This was how she learned over her name. Remaining quiet, the newborn tilted her head and before she could say anything -- something caught her attention. Well really it was what her ears picked up and the sound of it made her throat burn more. “Shh ... it’s okay.” Those words randomly came out of her as she walked closer to him and without realizing her Alina found herself tackling the man and ripping into his throat. His blood is what called to her and when she was done, the newborn wanted MORE. 

This was the start of something darker in Alina and over the years she became labeled as a Ripper. She enjoyed the art of killing those all around her with a pulse and my red was such a damn good color on her. Eventually though the blood she spilled came back to haunt her, causing the woman to turn her humanity back on and face the music. As a way to pay for her penance and to right the wrongs she’s done over the centuries, Alina eventually went into med school and found her calling in Trauma Surgery. She loved the thrill of helping those and having to make quick decisions. I mean she made quick ones in killing people, so why not in saving them? 

Hearing about Wildemount and the residents there, Alina decided to move to the town and be around others such as herself. She never really met anyone else like her but has heard stories she wasn’t the only heretic. The woman wanted to start to embrace her witch side and not fear it like she has all these centuries. 

Headcanons;;

Throughout her time on Earth, Alina came to fall in love with many different cultures and can speak several languages.

She is a major travel bug and claims to be bitten with wanderlust.

Alina might not look it, but she is a big nerd when it comes to superheroes and is a huge fan of horror movies and murder documentaries. 

She also has a degree in Forensics and is just a nerd for anatomy and mysteries. 

Wanted Connections;; friends, enemies, mentor in magic, someone from her ripper days. Anything tbh, if you think Alina will fit it then hmu and we can def plot something out! 

[pcper-fcntcsy]

🌄💐💇‍♂️ claude hooper full biography - tw for drug use and war mention

Full Name: Claude James Hooper

Age: 25

Gender: Cis Male, he/him

Face Claim: Ryan Potter

Personality: Free-Spirited, Conflicted, Thoughtful, Hopeful, Soft

Profession: Political Cartoonist

As a child, the adventurous Claude always felt he aired on the side of invisible, in family, at school, with his friends. Practically everywhere, he was Mr. Cellophane, able to have people walk right past him for all the emptiness he felt inside. Moreover, Claude was always a pensive kid, speaking generally when he thought he had something important to say. As if the only way to express himself was saying whatever he wanted, not what others (especially his strict, traditional parents) wanted to hear. Though raised in a Jewish home, he was always awfully questioning of any strict beliefs his parents held; religious, moral, or otherwise. Claude was well aware from a young age: mom and dad would always be so uptight, but why? Did it make them happy? No, they had little to give their boy, who’d always feel empty and disconnected from them anyways. They were somewhat well-off, Claude was the only child of a middle class family. Shouldn’t he be happy with the life planned in front of him? More and more as he grew, Claude was certain the answer to this question was a resounding NO. He was empty at home. There had to be something out there, something worth fighting for, something worth creating. With a curious mind and parents who didn’t understand him, Claude turned to his “doodles” early in middle school. These things his family had once called “silly” turned out to be just that - silly enough to get people to laugh. And just maybe get them to pay attention to the things he had to say for once. Though Claude wasn’t the funniest guy around, his cartoons were surely a way to get his voice out. into the world in a way his stifling home and school life couldn’t give him.

As a teen, Claude adapted to the hippie (read: stoner) crowd at school. They didn’t urge him to be anything he wasn’t and they didn’t put pressures on him to get better grades and a minimum wage, dead end job like his parents  - and they could score him weed. Smoking a little bit every now and then loosened the reigns in Claude’s mind that kept him tied down to earth. When high, Claude was able to see everything he wanted to be in the world, light and free, so he started smoking more, eventually growing marijuana himself. While in the hippie crowd, the ideals of unconditional, agape love appealed to him wholeheartedly, and Claude couldn’t imagine anything more noble than working towards a world full of peace and tranquility! Even with his parents urging him to get a job and become yet another blue collar worker, what could be wrong with love, with peace, with filling that emptiness inside? Quite a bit, apparently, as Claude still couldn’t seem to fill that hole in his heart, that hole that longed for a purpose, a reason to life. This pained struggle was one that followed him all through adolescence; with words from his parents ringing in his ears and wondering if the hippie life was everything it preached it would be. Timothy Leary had once suggested that dropping out of school and getting in tune with your soul was the only way to be happy in life. Well, Claude was graduated finally... Why wasn’t he happy now? It seemed the ideals of doing whatever ‘feels good’ for yourself weren’t all they were cracked up to be, and Claude could see people getting hurt by those selfish ways. Like many people coming of age during the Iraq and Pakistan wars, Claude was torn here with the struggle of wanting to love and support your country, while not agreeing with everything it is doing.  He felt invisible, and it all came to a head here. Talked over, an irritation, a small blip in the map of life.

So, maybe the meaning of life was to defend the ideals you believed in. Taking the best of his parents’ and his friends’ wisdom, and none of the shortcomings he’d seen from any of them (he had enough of those himself), Claude seemingly disappeared from his friend group, cementing his invisibility permanently. He’d actually joined the army, finally caving into the urging from his country to become one of many conformists, marching along to The Man. Perhaps he’d hoped fighting for the right cause would make him feel whole again - but to feel whole again, doesn’t one have to know what it feels like to be whole to begin with? This lesson in consequence and decision failed to fill the hole in his heart twofold, and left Claude feeling ashamed of all he’d left home for. All he wanted to do in life was to fill other people’s hearts with good, to create something good - he wished for no one to ever feel the way he’d felt every day of his life. He spent a little over 3 years in the army, stationed in Iraq with almost no contact back home. Sure, he made a few buddies while in the troops, but he made even more nightmarish memories, ones that haunt him to this day. The horrors of the Iraq war were not something Claude was prepared for, and visions of fires, screaming, and the knowledge that what he’s done (or, what he’s been complicit to) has resulted in innocent deaths plagued the young man’s thoughts. In that time, Claude knew this was not the ”good fight” the American government had claimed it was, and he wouldn’t be an accomplice to it any more. Luckily (or, not-so lucky) for him, on their next raid, one of Claude’s comrades accidentally discharged their weapon, shooting Claude in the foot and sending him into the hospital to have a Chopart amputation (right above the arch). 

Having received his honorable discharge after those 3 years, he returned to his hometown nearly unrecognizable to his friends, long hair cut and a distinct limp on his left side. Without the military, however, Claude felt freer than ever, yet also more weighed down by all the things he had seen. He hadn’t exactly been raised in a home that gave much attention to mental health, so Claude was helpless to deal with all the guilt that raged in him nightly. The young man revisited the only things that had ever brought him closer to peace- First, drugs. The list of drugs Claude has used is lengthy and depressing. It’s best not to think about it. A more pleasant thought, however, is of the other things that had brought him peace at a young age - his drawings. Now living in his home town, but with no connections, Claude had more than enough time to draw as much as he wanted, so he poured his heart and soul into his art. His heart and soul were, for lack of a better term, a bit damaged now (or maybe they had always been), but his steadfast beliefs on the government, war, media consumption, and the dichotomy of good and evil gave him some excellent material to draw about. He would no longer be an accomplice to the horrors of the world, and maybe his work could shed light on these hard realities of politics and news of the 21st century.

Claude’s cartoons quickly caught attention on the internet, and although it came as huge surprise to him, his name was all of a sudden getting recognized places. The South London Press contacted him less than a year later, offering him a key spot in the Sunday post, and short strips on the weekdays. Always one to follow his heart when making important decisions (hopefully this one would take him to a better place than his last big decision had), Claude took the job in a heartbeat and flew off to London, excited to have a purpose and something to fight for again. Much like the last time he’d shipped off though, Claude’s friends were none the wiser about it. Not that they’d reconnected much with him when he’d gotten back from Iraq anyways, but Claude felt it was bittersweet to know that he was quite literally leaving nothing behind him. Everything in his life was ahead of him. After his comic strips began gaining traction and attention in the newspapers, Claude’s name and signature became fairly recognizable  - to those who still read paper newspapers, that is. He’s just fine with that however, having been well-accustomed to this life of being invisible. While his name might be known, his face is still just another in a crowd. It’s his words and his messages that are reaching people now and with all this change to his life, Claude likes to think that he’s making good.

[thehelleniclunarwitch]

The Murder Academy 04

Read the first part of the series here

TMA 01   TMA 02 TMA 03

Author’s Note: Hiya! The next few are gonna be kind of short as the chapters/details start to piece themselves together. However, I hope you guys still enjoy the story!

                                             ------------------------

Things had been tense in the academy for the past several days. Diego and Five couldn’t be left alone in the same room together without nasty words being thrown around. Luther and Allison avoided Y/n like she was the black plague. The only solace that Y/n found was in Klaus and Ben. The brothers quickly adopted her and tucked her under their wing.

Vanya and Y/n were currently in the library sprawled out on the couches reading books. They had shared stories over a cup of tea about their childhood. Vanya was slowly coming around to her. Vanya had just closed her second book of the day to pick up the third when Diego came strutting into the room.

Y/n didn’t even bother to look up. She flipped the page and continued reading on. Diego shot his sister a look. Taking the signal that he wanted her to leave Vanya slid off the couch. Y/n still refused to look up. She heard Vanya shut the doors gently. Diego dropped down on the end of the couch. He picked up her feet and placed them in her lap.

Still, Y/n ignored him. Even as he started to rub her feet. Certain spots tickled, but Y/n refused to give in to him. He had been ignoring her. He had hurt her feelings, especially over this whole Five situation.

“How about me and you get out of here tonight. We can go to dinner, the museum, spend a night in a hotel together, and then tomorrow spend the whole day at the zoo,” Diego suggested finally being the one to break the silence.

Y/n didn’t take her eyes off the book. “Vanya, Five, and I are going to the zoo tomorrow,”

Diego gripped her foot a little too tight at the sound of his brother’s name, but he was quick to release his grip and go back to massaging her foot.

“Okay, well we can still the first part. I can have you back in time to go with them tomorrow,” Diego suggested.

Y/n finally put her book down on her chest and looked at her boyfriend.

“You’ve been pretty mean and distant towards me these past few days,” She pointed out.

Diego sighed. “I know and I’m sorry,”

“Apologies don’t automatically fix things,” Y/n said.

“I’m upset with my brother. I’ve been taking it out on you and I am really sorry about that,” Diego said.

“I love you. I am your girlfriend, but I am my own person. If I want to be friends with your siblings then I’m going to be friends with them. And if Five just happens to be destined to be my best friend then that’s going to happen. You can’t have me all to yourself. That’s not how this works,” Y/n explained.

“I just don’t trust Five,” Diego admitted.

“Do you trust me?” Y/n asked him.

How could you ask me that?” Diego growled.

“I mean you have a weird way of showing it if you do,” Y/n pointed out to him.

“Of course, I trust you, Y/n. I’ve told you my secret. You are here living with my murderous siblings,” Diego said.

“Then trust me when it comes to Five,” Y/n said.

Diego gave her a look.

“I think you’re reading too much into things. Your siblings are very lonely people, Diego. You all rely too much on each other. It will do your siblings good to be able to trust somebody outside of their family,” Y/n told him.

“But why does it have to be you?” Diego complained.

“Why not me? You trust me. You trust me so much not only with your secret, but to come here and not only live amongst your siblings but know their secret too. I’m the perfect fit for them,” Y/n explained.

Diego sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Alright, I trust you. So I’ll back off and let you be friends with whoever you want,” Diego gave in.

Y/n gave him a soft smile. She pushed herself up, flipped herself around so she could crawl into his lap. Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck and beamed up at him.

“And if you’re gonna be grumpy take it out in the training room not me,” Y/n said.

Diego let out a soft chuckle. “I’ll do just that,”

“Smart boy,” Y/n smiled.

Diego leaned down and kissed her. Y/n kissed him back. Slowly, Diego pulled away.

“Now about my earlier suggestion,” Diego trailed off.

“How fast can we pack and get out of here?” Y/n asked him.

“We don’t need much,” Diego said.

“I can always get ready at the hotel,” Y/n replied.

Diego stood. Y/n let out a small scream as he hiked her up and tossed her over his shoulder.

“You caveman!” Y/n shouted.

Diego jiggled her around to prove a point. As Diego exited the library and headed up the stairs, Pogo came out of the office. He leaned against the doorframe and watched Diego and Y/n with cautious eyes.

“Something’s off,” A soft voice said from beside him.

“Miss Vanya! It’s rude to spy,” Pogo said.

“So I’ll just pretend I didn’t find you spying on them,” Vanya said.

“I’m not spying just observing,” Pogo replied.

“Right, I’m observing too,” Vanya said.

“Your brother,” Pogo began.

“Is the darkest one of us all. I’m worried that darkness will turn against her,” Vanya said after cutting him off.

“She never should have gotten involved with him,” Pogo admitted.

“She knows too much,” Vanya said.

“The girl has kept the secret for a long time,” Pogo pointed out.

“I think we’d all feel comfortable with her knowing our secret except for Luther,” Vanya said.

“Ah yes, Luther does worry me,” Pogo said.

“I’ve heard the way he bad mouths Y/n to Allison. I’m worried that he’ll do something, Pogo. And if he does Diego won’t let him live,” Vanya explained.

“Diego believes that he has found his perfect match. It’s clear that he’s in love with her,” Pogo said.

“But does she love him?” Vanya asked.

Pogo furrowed his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“Look at how she got here, Pogo. She almost died because of him. He murdered for her. Could this be Stockholm Syndrome?” Vanya asked.

“You think that she’s only in love with your brother because of the things she has been through?” Pogo asked.

“I don’t see why it can’t be a possibility,” Vanya told him.

“If she’s not truly in love with him I fear what Diego would do if he were to ever find out,” Pogo sighed.

“Haven’t you ever heard of fighting fire with fire?” Vanya asked.

Pogo gave Vanya a look.

“What have you been up to? And what exactly are you talking about?” Pogo asked.

“I think you should sit down and look at the timeline, Pogo, and all of the events that happened. Diego even admitted in the story he told about what happened between the two of them that he wanted to kill her because she was getting too close to his secret. Now he’s in love with her? Something isn’t adding up,” Vanya explained.

Before Pogo could ask Vanya any more questions she had disappeared. Pogo stood there in confusion. Vanya had brought up a lot of good points. Turning on his heel, Pogo slipped back into the office and shut the door. He walked over to the desk and took a seat. Maybe Vanya was onto something. He liked Y/n. She seemed like a great girl, but Pogo agreed that there was something off between the two of them.

Vanya slipped down the stairs and headed towards Five room. She crept past the kitchen where Allison and Luther were eating lunch. She made it to Five’s room and shut the door behind her. Five looked up from his computer.

“Did you talk to Pogo?” Five asked.

“The seed has been planted,” Vanya told him.

Five gave his sister a smile.

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” Vanya asked him.

“You don’t have to help me anymore, Vanya, if this is making you uncomfortable,” Five told her.

“I just don’t like being sneaky, but I don’t want Y/n to get hurt in the process. Especially since this is all coming down to who is the bigger and badder badass, you or Diego,” Vanya explained.

“Y/n isn’t going to get hurt,” Five sighed.

His bedroom door burst open. Klaus and Ben about toppled over each other as they entered Five’s room.

“Why are you worried about Y/n getting hurt?” Klaus asked.

Vanya looked over at Five.

“Don’t worry about it, I have it handled,” Five said.

“No. No. No. You’re not going to push us out of this one,” Ben argued.

“What is going on? What are you two up to?” Klaus demanded.

Again Vanya looked to Five for answers.

“Shut the door,” Five sighed.

“Five,” Vanya said in a warning tone.

“More help the better. Isn’t that what you were preaching to me the other day?” Five asked his sister.

Vanya sighed and plopped down on the end of his bed.

“What is going on?” Ben pushed.

“We need to talk about Diego and Y/n,” Five said.

“What about them?” Klaus asked.

“Have the two of you ever sat down and thought about their relationship or the story on how they became a couple?” Five asked.

Ben narrowed his eyes. “No, why would I?”

Five glanced at Vanya.

“Have either of you heard of Stockholm Syndrome?” Vanya asked.

Ben and Klaus shot each other a look. While Luther and Allison conspired in the kitchen, Pogo went over the details of events in the office, Five and Vanya took turns filling in their siblings on their conspiracy, Diego and Y/n were having the time of their lives out on the town completely unaware of what the Hargreeves siblings were up to.

Tagged:

@i-alyssa​

@hedwigmoss​

@les-bio-lie​

@ryans-mad-queen​

@alysweets​

@hyradun​

@lollipopdomination​

@awesometheydontknowiamhere​

@buckyandstevegayornay​

@anotherfanficreadingblog​

@ampbian​

@liveitdoll​

@gerardwayslips​

@snazzydoesthings​

@gorgeourrific-nerd​

@olkathefoxi​

@umbrxlla-acxdemy​

@soul-of-a-traveller​

@harrisbn​

@classyasssuperbitch​

@misspygmypie​

@officially-kendra-hargreeves​

@rose-01​

@carryon-doctor-lock​

@ynm1505​

@i-am-a-smol-sweet-potato​

@klausbutgayer​

@starkrobb​

@robinruns​

[dustedmagazine]

Algiers — There Is No Year (Matador)

hey say the end of the world is coming. An apocalyptic cavalcade of equine flogging clowns gallops across a devastated planet drowning in noise. Algiers’ front man Franklin James Fisher casts a jaundiced eye over this landscape, observes, describes and despairs. On their third album Fisher and fellow multi-instrumentalists Lee Tesche and Ryan Mahan and drummer Matt Tong strive to maintain the impact of debut Algiers and its follow up The Underside of Power with mixed results. There Is No Year is the first Algiers album to be recorded by the band in a studio together rather than through file sharing. Ironically it seems to have sapped some immediacy from their music.

So much of Algiers’ power resides in Fisher’s voice and the call and response with both his band mates and the gospel backing. There Is No Year hits hard at the start but lapses into some turgid moments where the band seem enervated by screaming in the darkness and lose momentum, not through lack of passion or commitment but more from the fatigue of preaching to the never will be converted. It is testament to the vision of Fisher, Tesche, Mahan and Tong that the relative low points only marginally dampen this collection. “There Is No Year” opens with a juddering martial beat over a bed of synths as Fisher declaims “Now it’s two minutes to midnight/And they’re building houses of cards/It will spiral out until the day we all fall.” Already there seems a Beckettian resignation but the hollering response of the backing vocals push the song along. Likewise “Dispossession” combines Fisher’s febrile sermon “Run around, run away from your America/While it burns in the streets/I been here, standing on top of the mountain/Shouting down what I see.” with gospel backing, double time hand claps and deeply layered keyboards that create a palpable excitement and tension which dissipates over the next couple of tracks which lose their way in mid tempo meandering and an over reliance on fire and house of cards metaphors.  

It’s the moments Algiers push their sound forward that make this album worth your attention —  the squalling saxophone solo and distorted bass synth of “Chaka”, the church organ on “Nothing Bloomed” and a welcome blast of punk energy on “Void” that brings to mind the wig out at the end of Mos Def’s “Rock N Roll”.  

Algiers has always been about the collective, identity, action and movement. Their combination of political lyrics, gospel and soul with post-punk energy is a potent one that brings the righteous anger of both to bear. If Fisher and co feel wrung out at times it’s not through lack of commitment or creativity. No one said fighting the good fight would be easy and There Is No Year lands enough punches to win at least a TKO decision.  

Andrew Forell

[threshprince]

Burning Bright

Word count:  2,165

Summary:  Karissa has a secret she's been keeping from Eddie and the Symbiote... and has now peaked the interested of the fearsome God of the Symbiotes: Knull has returned to this world to take it. Can she stop Knull from using her gift to destroy the universe?

Notes: A Self Indulgent Selfshipping Fanfic with Eddie and the Venom Symbiote!  I've wanted to write something involving Knull for quite a while and that time is now! I know some people dislike the run but I'm simply enthralled by it and love it. It's something I'm very much into and sometimes wish more people were so I wanted to pay homage to it in some kind of way! Thank you Donny Cates, Ryan Stegman and the rest of the team for the amazing (and heart-wrenching) story so far! All in all, enjoy~

Burning Bright is also on AO3

Chapter One: Tenebris

God Is Coming.

Those three simple words altered the course of the future once more.

A gasp escaped her bolting upwards from the mattress feeling the sweat roll off of her. Karissa grasped at the sheets trying to ground herself to the fact that it had been just a dream. Her muscles tensed and her knuckles white she gazed out into the night sky that only garnered a peek of the stars from the apartment window.

Her eyes wearily turned to the body next to her as her sudden movement didn't seem to wake him. Good thing, as he surely needed the rest. Though otherworldly ivory eyes gleamed in the light that did pour through the window at her.

They were safe. They both were.

It was just a dream.

The viscous being brought their thin head over to her making a bizarre questioning noise that was akin to a trill or a purr. Their mass began to slowly envelop her shaky form giving Karissa the comfort she needed in that time.

"I'm okay, dearest... I'm okay... just a nightmare." Karissa cradled the Symbiote against her bosom gently tracing their skin with her nails. Their eyes squinted in content as they noticed how worked up she had gotten. They could sense the tenseness within and coaxed her to lay back down with thin appendages.

Her head was still fogged with dread as if an ominous threat was looming over her head. Despite the Symbiote's light nuzzles bringing her back to reality she still felt herself tremble. She had never had that vivid of a dream in her life.

Especially with one that was supposed to be still imprisoned.

Swallowing thickly she allowed her muscles to calm even if they trembled and stared at Eddie as he slept soundly. She hoped that she wouldn't have to worry about them as much as she did. Considering the incident with a god Eddie had gradually been working on the mental strain that it caused him.

She allowed herself to settle and felt the drowsiness overtake her being as exhaustion set in.

-

A piercing roar jolted her from her hour long slumber as it cracked the sky. She awoke in panic hoping it was just her imagination frantically darting her eyes around the room. Shifting in her arms she felt the Symbiote shift their head upwards to her.

A look of dread painted her face realizing their once pure eyes were now a bloody crimson. Their voice distorted as if being commanded to say so.

"GOD IS COMING."

"No-!" Came the voice of Eddie from her side as he looked just as petrified. "No this can't be happening..."

Karissa watched warily as the Symbiote drifted towards the window to peer out muttering in their alien language. It was as if they were being drawn to it as she desperately held them back from it.

"Dear no!" Karissa cried out trying to get them to snap out of it.

"No dammit! Not again! He shouldn't be here!" Eddie bunched his fists up tightly trying to quell the rage and fear within him. Karissa sucked in a breath trying to calm the anxiety within her getting up to embrace him with the Symbiote between them both.

"You stay. We have to keep you safe at all costs, Karissa." Eddie murmured taking in the scent of her hair as if it were the last thing he would.

"I refuse! Last time you disappeared and almost were killed! I'm not going to lose you to him again!"

"We know you feel helpless... but we can't risk you getting hurt. You-"

A deafening screech came overhead as the apartment rumbled like an earthquake from the impact outside. Terrified screams filled the air as chaos seemed to ring through the streets. Clasping their ears from the roar she felt Eddie rip himself away from her in desperation.

"He's here! Stay inside, Karissa!" Eddie pleaded desperately in a hurry before the Symbiote reformed around him. Lunging through the window and letting the webbing that he had shot out to a surrounding building bringing him down to the source.

Everything was happening so fast as she wished she could heed his words. Her safety meant nothing if she didn't lend them some sort of help. Looking at her trembling hands she wondered if she finally had a chance to prove her worth and save them. The power she had within her all this time and had been practicing in secret. She could save them this time, she could with this power at her disposal.

Her legs carried her now to the door before swinging it open feeling another rumble shake the building. Karissa flinched and headed down the stairs as fast as her legs could take her. Tears welled up in her eyes trying to get herself down to the lobby as fast as she possibly could muster.

Out of breath she reached ground floor wearily leading herself outside as she was finally met with what was happening. The sight of her boyfriend being grounded as the Symbiote shielded his body. Knull looming above advancing him threateningly and against her better judgment she burst out into the street.

Feeling the heat within her palms and the warmth flood her core her eyes glowed white as she aimed her trembling hands towards the god.

"LEAVE THEM ALONE!"

A beam of light shot through her palms as it sped towards him but the trajectory had gone off course with how hard she had been shaking. Shooting past his shoulder and into the Grendel it screeched being hit. Knull faltered in pain with his approach as his chilling gaze rested upon her.

"Aren't you right on cue... you see, Eddie and I have been having a little chat all about you. I didn't expect you to come out of hiding however..." Knull sneered wickedly regaining his composure. "... How wonderful."

"K-Karissa!? What... how-? We told you to stay inside! You stay AWAY from her!" Eddie grit his teeth in fury getting back up to slash at him. The God simply caught his wrist effortlessly and threw him aside causing him to hit the brick of a surrounding building.

"How futile. It seems you won't learn to stay down, host. It's what you've been known for after all. I'll deal with you at a later date." Knull stated ominously before his gaze turned back to the shaken woman still standing her ground.

"Where were we before we were rudely interrupted? I suggest you listen well, My child... you too Eddie Brock."

His limb extended in a grotesque manner towards her rapidly as she panicked and shot another ray of light at him. His hand simply split in two avoiding the weaker attack as tendrils began wrapping themselves around her legs and arms faster than she could react.

"No! Let me go!" Karissa cried trying to struggle away before she was yanked forward into his embrace. Coils of himself keeping her trapped like a fly caught in a net as she trembled at his touch along her jawline.

"Yes, you are the one... such a powerful light emanating from you. I sensed you before on this earth when my presence was known here last. I had known you were close to my child. I saw you in the memories I had tried to burn... but it proved futile in the end." Knull preached on while she wavered in his grip. "This power was enough to wound me temporarily confirming my suspicions. This wretched light within you is a threat to my conquest... but, I have decided your powers could be of use to me as well. Your shine reaches far through the cosmos and pierces the void. You will be cleansed in my darkness personally as my weapon to further reclaim what is mine."

The Symbiote reformed around Eddie surging into a rage as they continued to listen on to this. It was as if Eddie's blood was boiling underneath the skin as Venom's form bulked up even further than it was before.

"YOU WILL DO NO SUCH THING TO HER!!!"

Blinded like a bull ready to charge his muscles tensed as if he was only one hairpin away from tearing into the god. Though he knew he would have to tear Karissa away from his clutches. He couldn't fail her. He wasn't going to lose someone he loved twice to the hands of this repulsive being.

Charging forth he tore through the street he slammed into Knull swiping at him furiously to release her. His form was punctured and torn through yet never seem to lose grip on her.

"Having fun? You know this won't work... I'm far away from you. We've been over this, My child."

"DON'T PATRONIZE US!" Venom roared as Knull's shape-shifting form continued to shift away and keeping Karissa out of the onslaught of blows.

"You know you cannot touch me yet you still try... pitiful. Stay down where you belong." Knull's hand swiftly clamped against his skull as an ancient power flooded their collected mind. The Symbiote screeched feeling the burn that Knull was once again trying to inflict upon them as Eddie felt it tear through his psyche.

"STOP IT!" Karissa desperately sobbed out trying to struggle in his grasp but still being immobilized by Knull's mass.

Once Eddie's other split from him Knull had let go as they collapsed to their hands and knees in agony. Knull simply turned his heel to the Grendel as it opened up to invite their deity within. A tight tug made him stop in his tracks as Venom's claw clenched against the threads of fabric. "Still you fight the inevitable? You won't prevail." The threads began to slip away from his grip thinning and sliding from the cracks. Venom's grip now empty as his head stung and was still foggy with lingering pain.

"VENOM!!" Karissa screamed his name as the dragon stitched itself up for voyage obscuring vision from them.

The God Dragon made a mighty raucous screech as it rattled even the Symbiote that was grounded from the sound as it splayed it's wings for flight. Venom couldn't just lay there and shot a thick strand of webbing against the skin of the Grendel.

Pushing off the ground and beginning the rapid ascent Venom was tugged along into the sky holding on for dear life. The heavy gusts of wind covered the scream that he let aloud from how quick they had shot up into the atmosphere. He had to grab onto the hide if he wanted to save her struggling to fight the turbulence. There was a brief instance of black that covered around the webbing as the milky pearlescent eyes widened in horror. Snipping the webbing free they were now in free fall as the Grendel sped towards the stars and beyond the clouds into the stratosphere.

"KARISSAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!" Venom howled in agony as he desperately reached for the sky.

Falling back to Earth the sheer panic of trying to slow themselves down as buildings began to start to get closer. Venom shot out webbing to catch his fall as it latched onto the side of a building nearest to him. It stopped him from falling but the force of the stop made him fly back and upwards and hit the stone leaving a sizable crack. Almost like a bungee Venom was flung up and down a few times before settling and dangling.

They stayed together like this defeated as a numbing feeling set inside of them. Venom failed yet another person that he promised to always protect and keep safe. After an hour of dangling they both had the strength to finally swing towards a building to sit on the ledge staring at the bright lights of the city below. The sirens of police and ambulances a few blocks away from what happened with The Grendel.

They both said nothing to each other sharing their grief as a unit. No words needed to be spoken as Venom's claws dug into the limestone. The sun began to peek from the horizon as the dawn of a new day greeted them but they only wished it hadn't come. She wasn't here to see it with them.

The Symbiote peeled back from Eddie's head as silent tears fell from his cheeks. His outfit morphed out into the guilt riddled face of his Other as they pressed their forehead against his. Eddie's trembling hands came up to cradle their face hearing them made a high pitched noise of distress. Their minds ached as one from the after effects of Knull's power tearing through their collective conscious. They both held each other closely glad to be whole but knew the last piece of the puzzle was lost to them. Eddie cracked open his steel blue eyes as they were weary with fatigue and despair but yet had a newfound fire lit with clouded vengeance.

"We'll get her back, Love. We will."

[vividfragments]

In 1955, Jim Jones formed the Peoples Temple in Indianapolis IN and preached to people basic ideas of acceptance and the need to help one another, ideas for at the time, had the poor, minorities, and other people struggling flocking to Jones and his church.

Having formed a very large following he moved the church to San Francisco CA in 1965 where the church only grew in size and power. Jones received countless meetings with elected officials and was held up in the public as a hero, public serviceman, and friend. Attention that no doubt lead to his manglomania.

In 1973, a damning report came out about Jim Jones and the Peoples temple with the backing of eight former members of the church. Hearing this and hearing how officials were coming to shut the church down led Jim Jones to take his people to Guyana, a tropical island where Jones saw a chance to have the paradise of his dreams in the year of 1974.

Jim Jones has his island paradise but things are not good. Word gets out to the US government that Jones Town is a glorified prison camp. People would be beaten for little to no reason, people would be put in sensory deprivation boxes, or tied to a wooden post and be told "the tiger is gonna come get you". These people were still US citizens, including Jones. US intervention is eminent.

On November 18th, 1978 Jonestown was being visited by congressman Leo Ryan and others. Ryan slept in the camp, watched how people worked, and while he thought that the conditions were deplorable, he saw that the people were willing to be there contrary to early reports. Jones however was very paranoid and thought that Ryan would damn Jonestown to Washington.

This was unacceptable by Jones who sent gunman to meet Ryan and his congregation before they left. At 5:20 p.m. the gunman met the group of people at Port Kaituma airstrip and opened fire. The congressman and others were killed, many others were injured.

Jim Jones was complicit in the execution of an elected US official. He knew it was all done. He led his followers in their auditorium where he led one last sermon. He wanted his followers to commit "revolutionary suicide" saying, "you can go down in history, saying you chose your own way to go, and it is your commitment to refuse capitalism and in support of socialism." Many were skeptical but a lot more were for this way out.

Cups of cool aid with cyandie mixed in were issued out to everyone. Those who refused were pinned down and were lethally injected. Jonestown erupted into cries and screams of those who weren't ready to die. The willing were silent in a trance waiting for the inevitable. Some chose to lay down with their loved ones and children for one last embrace. Jim Jones walked back to his shack where he shot himself in the head. 909 men, women, and children died.

[lecherouswritings]

I gotta dump these alterations here excuse me!!! I guess if anyone doesn’t want spoilers to my stories lol

Had some ideas I didn’t wanna forget so I’m gonna dump them here for further development when the day comes someday. The hunters! There’s that burly trapper dude, the sharpshooter dude, and the manipulative lady. I think I want her to deal with poisons and stuff? One hunter is killed in Georgia, Rat has a snap-second reaction and kills this guy on the spot without realizing it’s like a hunter. Peter recognizes him, bursts out laughing when Rat kills him ?? hmm Can’t decide which hunter bites it first. The sharpshooter is really cute and all the girls fawn over him and it makes Peter mad because he’s a gross weirdo and doesn’t like competition. Sharpshooter loves birds, his sister and him keep birds and Peter loves birds too. Loves them. The village declines because Grandfather has a CHANGE OF HEART and decides human sacrifices are OUT and love is IN and that makes Peter SO ANGERY... it makes Hito angry too!!!!! THE LAND IS CURSED THAT’S WHY PPL THINK THEY’RE SEEING WOLVES BUT THEY   ARE   NOT   WOLVES  LOL the founders aka 3 lil piggies, man with house of hay stacks, man who built house of wood, and Grandfather with his stone home, all 3 are destroyed, other two men are killed, leaving Grandfather and the residents of the land AKA HITOTIANS!!! GASP!!!! and he’s like EEHGHH PLS DON’T KILL ME I JUST WANNA START A NEW LIFE OUT HERE ALSO MY TEETH FUCKING SUCK I DIDN’T TAKE CARE OF THEM so Hito is like Ok worship me I’m God however the fuck you wanna interpret that, kill ppl for me and I’ll make everything good and he’s like gimme wolf teeth and we have a deal and she’s like OK DEAL. THAT’S WHY THE TOWN THRIVES, and he leaves town to bring in outsiders and claims THESE SINNERS WERE TRYNA HURT US and will often pick up minorities because he’s racist and gross and given the time period and area there was a lot of hostility between shitty white assholes and Mexicans/Native peoples, hey I’m not defending Grandfather here racists exist. Hito doesn’t care racist or not, as long as ppl die that’s all that matters and if he wants to do it under the guise of Jesus or whatever the fuck fine, just do the Ritual I Asked You To Do and we’re good, and he’s like yeah cool. Then he asks for MORE, I want a SON :(((( and Hito’s like ok, go fuck someone and have a son but I swear to Me you’re gonna have to up your killing game I hate the idea of letting you make more people like that’s the opposite of my teachings you dumb shit ?! THE WOLF is a manifest of the cursed Hitotian land, that since the ppl perceive the monsters as wolves that Hito is like cool, this Proto Rat creature that’s being projected, so there’s this malicious spirit that’s lingering because Grandfather is SLACKING in his murders, so the crops are failing and people are getting sick and Peter is becoming host to this Wolf thing and Grandfather is NOT A FAN OF THAT, decides it’s SATAN and we gotta DRIVE SATAN OUT, not realizing it’s his own stupid ass fault for ignoring Hito’s wishes. After he has a son he wants to like retire and start preaching love and shit. Peter had prophetic dreams of Rat and helping Rat and THAT’S SCARY NO I WANNA BE A LITTLE KID I LIKE BIRD SONGS AND STICKS ALKGHAKJGH just kidding I’ve been tied to a bed most of my life I don’t know what I like. God I guess, Grandfather tells me how much God loves me and love is supposed to be good, good good, when Peter is good Grandfather takes him on walks so GOD BLESS. But after a while he gets to move about the room and seeing people outside his toothed window and he gets Angry. Shouts HI GRANDPA from his bed tied up because he can hear the front door slam shut. Grandpa will go untie him if he’s been good and read some bible to him or feed him or tell him how his day went CENSORED VERSION LOL because the boy is............ Not right............. all that Wolf stuff growing up MY HORRIBLE SON.....but he’s gonna carry on his legacy. HAVE A SON, SON. So Grandfather is the way he is because he made a deal with Hito ( GOD ) and the Wolf ( Proto-Rat ) tries to influence him but he’s TOO STUPID so the demon goes roaming around causing havok mindless energy no where to go. A lot of Hitotian demons target kids because they don’t have any defenses and are naive. So the town does descend into some madness because Grandfather quits. I have a scene where Sharpshooter’s sister kills her sons because she had sex with Grandfather and therefore committed a Sin and punished herself by killing her kids, and then killed the birds she kept and was shoving them inside herself and screaming gibberish about how they were going to remove the sin from her, and Peter and some of the villagers are there and I think I was thinking Peter would allow Sharpshooter to kill her instead of himself as like a familial courtesy out of respect. Peter’s more upset about the birds :( and maybe some sick pleasure in seeing Sharpshooter upset having to kill his sister like idk. Taking pride in someone else’s misery. Hito keeps Grandfather alive because that’s punishment death would be the easy way out!!! Live and suffer!! I’m gonna do away with the toxic chemicals thing because Hito can just mutate people as punishment and I like that better. If Rat kills the handsome guy then ... That leave gruff trapper dude who would be more well equipped to deal with Rat in the last arc, but... I’m thinking Peter gains trust from Grandfather by getting Sharpshooter on his side like “I let you take your sister’s life, I didn’t rob you of that, I’m a man of my word and you can testify” sort of shit. Yeah, so let’s have the gruff trapper be the GA victim and the sharpshooter be in the village at the end. The lady hunter tho isn’t having any of Peter’s shit and they have a confrontation and Amy helps and yea they help each other. I like the idea of Peter covering her with a rifle as she goes out into the wild to find Rat, then Peter had to go after Amy because she gets her leg caught in a bear trap and has to get her outta there and is like Well I’m already here might as well look for Rat before Sharpshooter finds him fuuck he tells Amy to go back and hide but she sneakily trails by the time Peter finds Rat, Rat’s stuck in a hole!!! A trap!!! He can’t get out he’s all rotted and gross!!!! and he’s YOWLING!!! HELP!!! :( Sharpshooter is there, and he’s like OH PETER JUST IN TIME :))) LET’S KILL THIS THING and Amy’s watching from the thicket. Peter has some crazy ass vision and is like hhHH and shoots Sharpshooter’s kneecaps out and ties him to a tree with his own rope. Rat’s saying some gibberish and Peter’s like oh no the wolf is so hungry hungry boy feed wolf feed wolf the hunter munch munch that was a tasty leg Thank You.... Hey Friend, can you help me out of here? SO YES Peter reaches down and pulls Rat out but IT’S SYMBOLISM FOR WHEN HE WAS A KID AND REACHED OUT TO RAT AND “LET HIM IN” SO RAT GETS OUT AND IS LIKE YESSSSSBITCH the 2nd rain of blood happens and he tells Peter to run back to the village. Amy follows behind him. I HAVEN’T DECIDED HOW RYAN, JESS, AND KYLE GET OUT OF THEIR TORTUROUS PREDICAMENT YET BUT I WILL BECAUSE THEY’RE THERE and they all reunite and RAT DESCENDS ONTO THE VILLAGE AND KILLS EVERYBODY LOL, theres all these Hitotian demons that just DECIMATE EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING. Ryan is SO MAD at Peter because this is ALL HIS FAULT, and Amy already had this fight with Peter but they reconciled and teamed up but RYAN IS NOT FORGIVING and GOUGES PETER’S EYES OUT SO HE CAN’T SEE HIS GOD ( THIS IS SO SAD.meme ) and it’s the real first time since his reign as tyrant of the village when he was younger just FLIP THE FUCK OUT because Rat’s going through his final stages of metamorphosis and everyone can witness it but Peter slkdgjslkgh RYAN!!!!!! I think the castration of Rat happens just before the villagers capture them ??? SPEAKING OF CASTRATION that was really big with Peter, lots of sterilizing and castrating because THE ROOT OF PEOPLE’S SINS ARE THEIR DESIRES so I love that he has this knack for cutting genitals and Rat’s like I NEED A CUT BRO and he’s like oh Yeah I know this song and dance hold my beer. I think tho.... Peter has to kill his Grandfather, maybe after he returns to the village? I can’t decide if it’s a YES I FINALLY GET TO KILL YOU or a I LOVE YOU AFTER ALL BUT I HAVE TO DO THIS :(((( I can’t decide. I’LL FIGURE THIS OUT LATER. Also what if Grandfather was creeping on Eunice and so when Peter had a thing with her, he had Hito’s demons go kill her off in the woods??? hmm... idk how I feel about that.... or Rat’s wolf entity would ?? Yeah he would lol just to fuck with Peter, fuck you for having nice things you dumb bitch COME WORSHIP ME IN A FEW DECADES NERD!!! If I think of anything else I’ll make another dump post but there’s SO MUCH and also I gotta sleep but this is what I got in the last few days.

[chicagoindiecritics]

New from Every Movie Has a Lesson by Don Shanahan: MOVIE REVIEW: The Short History of the Long Road

(Image courtesy of FilmRise)

Official Selection of the 7th Chicago Critics Film Festival

THE SHORT HISTORY OF THE LONG ROAD— 3 STARS

When you watch the family drama The Short History of the Long Road, you would never guess Sabrina Carpenter is the same bubbly Disney Channel presence she is from Girl Meets World or Adventures in Babysitting. For this displaced character of Nola living off the grid and figuring out her life, there is no fizz. Only stern realities push this young woman. Equal to her privileged bully character in The Hate U Give, you would never guess Sabrina is also a vivacious pop star beyond the TV and movie screens in this type of film role requiring zero showy stages. This festival darling and award winner debuting June 16th on streaming platforms is a deeper test of potential magnitude.

When some charismatic personas go, as some would reductively call it, “unpretty” or “ugly” for a more natural or dramatic role, the results feel forced. With a little less makeup work and some shoddier clothes, the performer might put on the outer facade of adversity and expect the look to be enough. They will fail to exude the narrative hardship as if it manifested fully from within a true soul. For The Short Story of the Long Road, that is most certainly not Sabrina Carpenter. This film is a wonderful opportunity to celebrate her evolving talent.

LESSON #1: THE LOW BUDGET HIGH EXPERIENCE— The livelihood of Nola is one created by her father Clint, played by the silvered Steven Ogg of Snowpiercer and Westworld. They live off of the highways and by-ways inside of a 1984 Volkswagen Westfalia (van consultant Ryan Sellmeyer is a silent MVP of this movie). The familial duo does odd jobs and squats at parks and foreclosed houses. With skeptical takes on normal society, Clint values the practical, unrushed, and experiential as an education money can’t buy. Clint sees this personal culture as going back to the human roots as a migratory species and preaches “society would be much better off if we build an army of self-sufficient agitators.” He’s not wrong in many, many ways.

The ever-moving years of this rustic rambling have been formative for Nola. She couldn’t be closer to her father as they observe the world with different lenses and sing old road songs like “Come Along” by Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs without a cellular device in sight. The Short History of the Long Road does not always have the bounce of that song, but it does have the spirit. 

The origin of this automotive adventure comes from Clint splitting away from Nola’s mother Cheryl (Maggie Siff of Billions and Sons of Anarchy), a woman Nola doesn’t remember and secretly longs to meet. As Clint laments “she zigged and we zagged.” There is most certainly freedom to be had under the stunning Southwest skies of New Mexico featured in the film and captured by cinematographer Cailin Yatsko, but Nola is at an inquisitive age to discover more traditions and personal history.

LESSON #2: THE ISOLATION AND HAZARDS OF TRAVELING OR LIVING ALONE— That said, living this way is not always easy and becomes much harder when Clint leaves the picture. Pearls of wisdom like “we wouldn’t get very far without knowing how to fix things” serve her only so far with an ancient and oil-bleeding motor home and her trusty makeshift jug-and-headlamp combo lantern. Soon, she is siphoning gas and trying to dine and ditch when the money runs out.

LESSON #3: THE ARRAY OF PEOPLE YOU MEET ON YOUR PERSONAL JOURNEY— At those challenging lows, beneficial people enter Nola’s life. They include the caring churchgoer Marie (Rusty Schwimmer) who offers an adoptive family, an auto mechanic named Miguel (Danny Trejo) who lets her trade work hours in his shop for vehicle repairs, and a potential peer in the abused fellow teen Blue (Jashaun St. John) who envies Nola’s freedom. Each of these intersections, from the one-time passersby to the long-term relationship attempts, become character-building experiences for Nola. 

The performances from Schwimmer, St. John, and especially Trejo, a professional movie tough guy, become endearing treats. Thinking back to Lesson #2, most would expect a pretty girl like Nola to be an easy target for accosting violence straight out of urban legends and crappy road movies and, thankfully, writer-director Ani Simon-Kennedy never considers exploitativeness on that level. In this writer’s opinion, optimism that more people would help a traveler rather than abuse one is a fairer worldview and welcome stance. 

LESSON #4: THERE ARE NO EASY ANSWERS— Each new human connection for Nola outside her father shows her slices of life beyond the looseness of her own. She can have a different way of doing things that others find reckless. New friends (and soon her own rediscovered mother) teach her a better course instead of taking momentary advantage of innocent and giving people. However, it’s not about fixing people, forced conformity, or removing brainwashing of any kind in Simon-Kennedy’s film. Forming empathy is the truer goal. Learning to accept charity and compassion doesn’t chip away at independence. They simply support and enhance the flexibility of that autonomy.

Guided by calm direction from Ani Simon-Kennedy, Carpenter, while green, never overacts. She’s not screaming for the balconies to show off. She nails the introverted pitch of her reserved Nola character. In scenes shared with the people Nola meets along the way, many of whom are more seasoned actors, Sabrina gives and takes with flow and patience. With a large enough reception, folks may come back to a film like this someday and point to it as a genesis point for Carpenter. She deserves that praise.

The title of The Short History of the Long Road is plain, simple, and true. This is but a small jaunt of a bigger journey for this broken family set to a steady score by M83’s Morgan Kibby. The flashbacks are just that: flashed for mere seconds. They show enough to throb the heart and that’s plenty. Any extended testimonials and cherished memories come out in small talk and stay small talk without a grand speech in earshot. What’s personal is personal and not for crowds. Big and lofty is the sky above it, not the grounded individual. Once again, that’s the wavelength: plain, simple, and true. Those are fitting and admirable qualities.

LOGO DESIGNED BY MEENTS ILLUSTRATED (#889)

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[dont-doubt-dopple]

How You Fell In Love With Me - Chapter 3

A/N: Hey, look, I’m not dead! And neither is this story. Just, the original idea got changed. Drastically. It’s just, I’m a lot less comfortable writing Brohm and I know people are a lot less comfortable reading it as well. Just know that if you came for Brohm, I’m not so sure how much Brohm is going to be in this story anymore. So I’ve changed the plan in my head and I am more excited to write this. Oh, I’m going to break some hearts this time around. The angst is rubbing of on me, IM SORRY. The discord with the angst Nights is rubbing off on me. Enjoy. I’m also introducing BOLD text into the equation. So, as not to get confused:

Normal text=Real World

Italic Text=Bryce’s Story world

Bold Text=Flashback sequence

WARNING: This chapter contains very homophobic sequences, including the use of the slur f****t. Tread with caution.

~•~

Chapter 3 - Faces to Names

“They always like this?” I asked, watching the scene of chaos and bloody murder in front of me. Otherwise know as Mario Kart.

"Yeah." Delirious assured me. "You get used to them." I looked around the living room at all the men screaming their heads off over a game. For people that were in a gang, they seemed like one huge family. They had inside jokes and traditions and the ability to be themselves. I was just some outsider looking in.

“Fuck off you sweaty nerd.” One if the guys exclaimed, his words laced with an Irish accent.

“Sorry.” Another one giggled in response. His words also had the slightest touch of an Irish accent, but not as much as the other guy.

“Moo hasn’t said anything in a while.” Mini commented, the only of the mess of bodies I actually knew. The guy who I assumed was Moo spoke off next.

“I’m winning.” He explained, before becoming silent once more. That being soon interrupted by a Control slamming to the ground.

“9. Fucking. Boomerangs.” The man who slammed the controlled down said calmly, although extremely enraged. “In 2nd to last.” At moment, a red shell came up from behind him and hit his already still character. This caused his calm anger to turn into pure rage. “WHO DID THAT!!! WHICH ONE OF YOU WAS IS YOU FUCKING FAGGOTS!!”

I tensed up as always. Though it only got him madder. I knew the routine by now, so it wasn’t a surprise. I could picture the red on his face, smell the alcohol on his breath, hear the malice laced in his words.

“I won’t let some queer stand our level.” He growls. I close my eyes, not wanting to watch the enjoyment of all of this spread across his face like the madman he was.

“Bryce.” Del calls out to me, putting his hand on my shoulder. I step away on impulse. She should know better than to do that. She knows I don’t want a repeat of last time. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” I echoed back. I could feel the tears beginning to well up in my eyes. I rushed out the last part a little as I bolted. “I just need some fresh air.”

“Yeah. Run!” He screamed as I dashed away, tears streaming down my face and fresh bruises down my back. “I don’t want to see this poor excuse of a son in my house again.”

“Bryce.” I stopped, hand on the handle. My mom was standing there on the stairs. I could tell even if I didn’t turn around. “Come back when he’s sober. Your dad will change his mind.”

“He’s my father.” I spat, still enraged at him. It wasn’t fair to be unleashing it at my mother but all the pent up anger I’ve been restraining was coming out now and my brain had little time to filter. “To call him my dad would be to say he loved me. Clearly he doesn’t.” I glanced back at the man who helped bring me into this world. He was sunken back into the couch, yelling at some sports game on the TV.

“Just ...” Her voice faltered, as if the words in her tongue just couldn’t come out. “He’s the only dad you’ll ever have. Give him another chance.”

“I’ve given him too many to count. And if this is how he uses all of them, then I’d rather have no dad at all.” I didn’t stay to hear her response. I simply pulled the door open and left, standing on the stoop as it slammed behind me. I breathed.

And then I broke.

I collapsed, letting all the waterworks built up inside me flow down my face. I was attempting to cover my face with my hands, failing miserably. “He’s not here. He’s not here.” I kept muttering to myself, in a voice barely in a whisper. I curled into a ball then, letting my head fall into my knees.

“Hey.” I looked up to see an Asian guy staring at me with a kind smile. Slick black hair tossed to the side and an equally slick red jacket. He had kneeled down so he was at least closer to my level. “Anxiety?”

“More like PTSD.” I admitted. “Someone just ... said a slur accidentally and I got triggered.”

“Can’t say I relate.” He replied, sitting down next to me. “I’m Evan, by the way. Most of the guys will call me Vanoss, though.”

“So wait, your the ...” The Cat had finally got my tongue, but he seemed to know exactly what I was trying to say.

“Yeah. And that must make you the Bryce McQuaid Ohm has been telling me about. Incessantly.” Both of us laughed at this. I did wonder why Ohm would be preaching about me though. I haven’t really had a chance to talk to him that much. I didn’t voice this though. Maybe I’d get a one on one with Ohm later. “But the real question is, what was it that triggered you?”

“It was ...” I felt begin to choke, but I was at least able to push the first syllables out. “Fa ... Fa ...” Evan stopped me first though, holding his hand up to my face.

“I know what your trying to say. And that sounds like Tyler.” Jon said, sliding the rough draft back over to Mike. “Just email us a copy of the final thing later.”

“Sure thing.” Mike agreed, sliding the rough chapter into his bag. “Just promise me that you do not, under any circumstance, tell Bryce about this.”

“Really?”

“I’d have to agree with Mike on this.” Mark added. The group was in a local Starbucks, waiting for Bryce to exit the bathroom and Drac to get here. Mark had one of the single seats by Jon, while Mike sat on the loveseat. “Guy nearly had a full blown panic attack just giving me and Swag the first two chapters. Where is Drac, by the way?”

“He texted he was here like two minutes ago, but I don’t see him.” Mike pushed himself up using his arms, trying to see where his boyfriend was. He didn’t notice Jon rolling his eyes at Swag’s mention. “What’s taking Bryce so long in the bathroom, anyways?”

“No idea.” Jonathan said. “He’s been acting off since the day before yesterday. He was talking to Adam before, so I think it’s something he told him.”

“Oh god, that’s not good.” Mark commented, just as another guy hopped into the seat next to Mike.

“Sorry I’m late.” He apologized. “I had to work out some details with Ellie and John for a project. Who’s Adam?”

“The question I’m wondering is who are you?” Jonathan shot back. The guy, while subtlety slinging his arm across Mike, looked at Mark expectantly. The latter sighed.

“Jonathan, meet Swag Dracula. We usually call him Swag or Drac for short. Swag, Jon or H2O Delirious.” He introduced. Jonathan sat there, dumbfounded.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. H2O. Now back to my earlier question; who is this Adam guy?” Swag continued on. Jonathan was still in shock, the only movement indicating he was alive was the blinking of this eyes and the subtle rise and fall of his chest.

“You’re real.” He gasped softly, leaning back into his chair.

“Yeah he’s real.” Mike answered, planting a quick kiss on Swag’s cheek. “And Adam is basically the Cheryl Blossom of the campus. If you want a secret to stay a secret, you better pray to whatever deity you believe in that Adam doesn’t find out. If there’s trouble, there’s a 85% chance that Adam was the catalyst. He’s the one person that no matter what, you do not trust him.”

“Got it.” Swag said. “Now, are we getting drinks yet or ...”

“I’ll see what’s taking Bryce so long in the bathroom.” Mike volunteered, rising from his seat. He rolled his eyes as he passed Jonathan, who he saw mouth to Mark ‘He’s actually real?’ He headed to the back by the restrooms only to run into Bryce.

“Hey, You okay?” Mike asked upon seeing his friend. His blond hair was disheveled, and his eyes were red and puffy. He was quiet and when Mike cupped his cheek he could feel it was wet. “That’s a stupid question. Of course you’re not okay. What’s troubling you?”

“Nothing.” Bryce choked out, avoiding making eye contact with Mike.

“Bryce ...” Bryce grabbed Mike, pulling him into the restroom. “What ..?”

“Adam said ...” The blond paused, as if making sure nobody heard their conversation. “Adam said Ryan has a crush on Luke. He’s only ever see me as a friend.”

“Hey, this is Adam we’re talking about. He could be just stirring up trouble.”

“He may be a troublemaker, but he’s a reputable troublemaker. When is the last time Montoya was wrong?” This seemed to do the trick in shutting Mike up. “Exactly. Just ... don’t tell anyone. Okay?” Mike nodded, and was about to nod when Bryce grabbed his hand again. “And try not to intervene. Please?”

“I’ll do my best.” He replied, which seemed to satisfy Bryce enough. The two left the bathroom with uneasy thoughts and began to rejoin their friends. They were talking in hushed tones, like they didn’t want to risk anyone else hearing their secrets. Though a simple question lingered in Mike’s mind. Even with the coffee and knowledge of a nearly School wide bet (“We didn’t think Dracula was real. We were just wondering which one of you guys would crack first.”), it still lingered.

Was this accidental intervention really a good thing?

“Mike, sweetie, you okay?” Swag asked softly as Bryce, Jon, and Mark were laughing about something. Mike nodded, squeezing Drac’s arm in reassurance.

“I’ll tell you later.” He said.

“About Bryce?” Mike nodded. “Okay.” He leaned his head so it rested on Drac’s shoulder. Mike didn’t let go of Swag’s arm nor did either release their hands that were intertwined with each other.

“I love you.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less.”

[lol-jackles]

Jensen is really good at manipulating the crowds, the JIB8 hug is awfully awkward and I can't believe people buy it. Seriously!? Jared's posture is so stiff, it screams NO to me. F**k, is Jensen too brilliant or are the crowds too blind?

Neither.  You give what the crowd wants and what SPN fans want is Bro Hugs between Sam and Dean, and this time Jensen decided to give the crowd what they want (while getting what he wants).  It’s like how fans want to see actors playing their favorite OTP kiss on the red carpet.  Yeah they know it’s  Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams but they just want to see Noah and Allie kiss again one more time because Noah and Allie were eachother’s one true love! Even if they know that Ryan and Rachel don’t get along in real life, there’s a difference between “knowing” and “seeing”.

These conventions are like political rallies, it’s preaching to the choir. No matter what the star is saying, you’re always going to cheer and applause. 

Hillary: Bernie Sander supporters are bunch of basement dwellers!Crowd: Hooray!!Hillary: Huma Abedin is a Saudi plant!Crowd: Hooray!!!Hillary: I’m going to sell this country to the highest foreign bidder!Crowd: Hooray!!!! 

[nonbinarysasquatch]

Because it amuses me, I’ve decided to assemble list of Weird Al polka songs and mark what songs I’ve heard along with notations of which ones are actually in my collection. Skipping Hot Rocks Polka from UHF (yeah, I have heard all of those, and I have some of them in my collection) and Bohemian Polka (is there a human being who hasn’t heard Bohemian Rhapsody, and of course it’s in my collection.)

Songs in bold I’ve heard at some point. Songs and artists in italics I literally know nothing about.

Just because something is in my collection doesn’t mean I love it (though more often than not I do) and just because something ISN’T doesn’t mean I don’t like it.

Polkas on 45 from “Weird Al” Yankovic in 3-D (1984):

"Jocko Homo" by Devo (In My Collection) "Smoke on the Water" by Deep Purple (In My Collection) "Sex (I'm A...)" by Berlin (In My Collection) "Hey Jude" by The Beatles (In My Collection) "L.A. Woman" by The Doors (In My Collection) "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" by Iron Butterfly "Hey Joe" by Jimi Hendrix "Burning Down the House" by Talking Heads (In My Collection) "Hot Blooded" by Foreigner "Every Breath You Take" by The Police (In My Collection) "Should I Stay or Should I Go" by The Clash (In My Collection) "Jumpin' Jack Flash" by The Rolling Stones (In My Collection)

Hooked on Polkas from Dare to Be Stupid (1985):

"State of Shock" by The Jacksons and Mick Jagger "Sharp Dressed Man" by ZZ Top "What's Love Got to Do with It" by Tina Turner (In My Collection) "Method of Modern Love" by Hall & Oates (In My Collection) "Owner of a Lonely Heart" by Yes (In My Collection) "We're Not Gonna Take It" by Twisted Sister (In My Collection) "99 Luftballons" by Nena (In My Collection) "Footloose" by Kenny Loggins "The Reflex" by Duran Duran (In My Collection) "Bang Your Head (Metal Health)" by Quiet Riot "Relax" by Frankie Goes to Hollywood (In My Collection)

Polka Party! from Polka Party! (1986) (one of Al’s best albums imo):

"Sledgehammer" by Peter Gabriel (In My Collection) "Sussudio" by Phil Collins (In My Collection) "Party All the Time" by Eddie Murphy "Say You, Say Me" by Lionel Richie (In My Collection) "Freeway of Love" by Aretha Franklin (may have heard as child) "What You Need" by INXS (In My Collection) "Harlem Shuffle" by The Rolling Stones (In My Collection) "Venus" by Bananarama (In My Collection) "Nasty" by Janet Jackson "Rock Me Amadeus" by Falco (WHY IS THIS NOT IN MY COLLECTION?) "Shout" by Tears for Fears (In My Collection) "Papa Don't Preach" by Madonna (In My Collection)

Polka Your Eyes Out from Off the Deep End (1992):

"Cradle of Love" by Billy Idol (In My Collection) "Tom's Diner" by Suzanne Vega (In My Collection) "Love Shack" by The B-52's (In My Collection) "Pump Up the Jam" by Technotronic "Losing My Religion" by R.E.M. (In My Collection) "Unbelievable" by EMF (another I’m surprised I don’t have) "Do Me!" by Bell Biv DeVoe "Enter Sandman" by Metallica (In My Collection) "The Humpty Dance" by Digital Underground "Cherry Pie" by Warrant "Miss You Much" by Janet Jackson "I Touch Myself" by Divinyls (In My Collection) "Dr. Feelgood" by Mötley Crüe "Ice Ice Baby" by Vanilla Ice

The Alternative Polka from Bad Hair Day (1996) (welcome to my teen years)

"Loser" by Beck (In My Collection) "Sex Type Thing" by Stone Temple Pilots (In My Collection) "All I Wanna Do" by Sheryl Crow (In My Collection) "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails (In My Collection) "Bang and Blame" by R.E.M. (In My Collection) "You Oughta Know" by Alanis Morissette (In My Collection) "Bullet with Butterfly Wings" by The Smashing Pumpkins (In My Collection) "My Friends" by Red Hot Chili Peppers (In My Collection) "I'll Stick Around" by Foo Fighters (In My Collection) "Black Hole Sun" by Soundgarden (In My Collection) "Basket Case" by Green Day (In My Collection)

Polka Power! from Running with Scissors (1999): (the beginning of the end of my time listening to the radio/watching MTV... seriously 1999 me was so bitter about how music was going to shit...)

"Wannabe" by the Spice Girls "Flagpole Sitta" by Harvey Danger (In My Collection) "Ghetto Supastar (That Is What You Are)" by Pras featuring Ol' Dirty Bastard and Mýa "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)" by the Backstreet Boys "Walkin' on the Sun" by Smash Mouth (In My Collection) "Intergalactic" by the Beastie Boys (In My Collection) "Tubthumping" by Chumbawamba (In My Collection) "Ray of Light" by Madonna (In My Collection) "Push" by Matchbox Twenty (In My Collection) "Semi-Charmed Life" by Third Eye Blind (I HATE THIS SONG AND I SAW THEM IN CONCERT AT ROCK FEST BEFORE THEY WERE BIG AND I WAS LIKE “WOW, THAT BAND SUCKED” THEN INEXPLICABLY THEY WERE SUDDENLY FAMOUS LIKE TWO MONTHS LATER) "The Dope Show" by Marilyn Manson (In My Collection) "MMMBop" by Hanson (I kinda wish I had some Hanson) "Sex and Candy" by Marcy Playground (In My Collection) "Closing Time" by Semisonic (In My Collection)

Angry White Boy Polka from Poodle Hat (2003) (I wasn’t listening much to the radio at this point, and some of these songs I’m pretty sure I heard a good while after they were in the Polka, I either don’t care about or don’t like most of these songs.):

"Last Resort" by Papa Roach "Chop Suey!" by System of a Down (In My Collection) "Get Free" by The Vines "Hate to Say I Told You So" by The Hives "Fell in Love with a Girl" by The White Stripes (In My Collection) "Last Nite" by The Strokes (In My Collection) "Down with the Sickness" by Disturbed (In My Collection) "Renegades of Funk" by Rage Against the Machine "My Way" by Limp Bizkit "Outside" by Staind (In My Collection) "Bawitdaba" by Kid Rock "Youth of the Nation" by P.O.D. "The Real Slim Shady" by Eminem

Polkarama! from Straight Outta Lynwood (2006): (We’re at the point where unless I just randomly caught it on the radio or someone I knew played it, I was pretty over popular music and was digging through other musical interests)

"Let's Get It Started" by The Black Eyed Peas (I’m unsure on this one. I know I’ve heard some Black Eyed Peas in the past) "Take Me Out" by Franz Ferdinand (In My Collection) "Beverly Hills" by Weezer (In My Collection) "Speed of Sound" by Coldplay "Float On" by Modest Mouse "Feel Good Inc." by Gorillaz featuring De La Soul  (In My Collection) "Don't Cha" by Pussycat Dolls featuring Busta Rhymes "Somebody Told Me" by The Killers (In My Collection) "Slither" by Velvet Revolver "Candy Shop" by 50 Cent featuring Olivia "Drop It Like It's Hot" by Snoop Dogg featuring Pharrell "Pon de Replay" by Rihanna (I feel like Umbrella is the only Rihanna song I’ve heard) "Gold Digger" by Kanye West featuring Jamie Foxx

Polka Face from Alpocalypse (2011):

“Poker Face” by Lady Gaga “Womanizer” by Britney Spears “Right Round” by Flo Rida ft. Ke$ha (the first time I heard this in the polka I thought Al was suddenly doing Dead or Alive) “Day 'n' Nite” by Kid Cudi “Need You Now” by Lady Antebellum (In My Collection, weirdly enough) “Baby” by Justin Bieber ft. Ludacris “So What” by Pink (I’m surprised I don’t have more Pink) “I Kissed a Girl” by Katy Perry “Fireflies” by Owl City (I know nothing about this band but the name sounds gothic, which probably means it’s pop) “Blame It” by Jamie Foxx ft. T-Pain “Replay” by Iyaz “Down” by Jay Sean ft. Lil Wayne “Break Your Heart” by Taio Cruz ft. Ludacris “Tik Tok” by Kesha (she’s on the periphery on the sort of thing I’m into so I checked her out and determined I wasn’t feeling it)

Now That’s What I Call Polka! from Mandatory Fun (2014): (To say that at this point I’ve long since abandoned any way to check out music that isn’t a deliberate choice is almost an understatement but at the same time I’ve become a lot more musically opened minded in recent years AND I’ve been on tumblr which has made me more vaguely aware of stuff younger folks are into):

“Wrecking Ball” by Miley Cyrus (checked out re: controversy iirc) “Pumped Up Kicks” by Foster the People (In My Collection) “Best Song Ever” by One Direction (I legit was like, well hey maybe One Direction is surprisingly good since so many people on Tumblr love them... nope. Sounded like every boy band in the history of ever as far as I could tell.) “Gangnam Style” by Psy (Too heavily referenced everywhere to have not checked it out) “Call Me Maybe” by Carly Rae Jepsen (see above re: references) “Scream & Shout” by will.i.am feat. Britney Spears “Somebody That I Used to Know” by Gotye feat. Kimbra (I legit love this song because it sounds like Peter Gabriel, I checked out Gotye without having any idea he had a hit song though) “Timber” by Pitbull feat. Kesha “Sexy and I Know It” by LMFAO “Thrift Shop” by Macklemore & Ryan Lewis feat. Wanz (Yeah, I’ve BEEN to the Value Village that has since closed on Capitol Hill in Seattle but I’ve never heard the song or seen the video in which it is featured... in fact I’ve never heard any Macklemore, despite Seattleite status) “Get Lucky” by Daft Punk feat. Pharrell Williams

I think the polkas from recent years come out better than I thought, though I literally only have two songs in my collection from the last one so...

[thisisheffner]

Holy Cross Alumna Likens Greek Classics to Hip Hop Music

I’d been a hip-hop music fan from grade school, when a Catholic kid’s idea of rebellion was bellowing Blondie’s “Rapture” a cappella on the school bus until the driver screamed. I graduated to old-school hip-hop classics, “Rapper’s Delight,” “White Lines” and “Jam on It,” delighting in warp-speed rhyming you could dance to. When I got to Holy Cross, UB40 and U2 were the music of the moment, so I shelved Grandmaster Flash and the Sugarhill Gang.

Still, my relationship with hip-hop continued, through the poetry of Langston Hughes, introduced to me by Professor B. Eugene McCarthy. My study of stained-glass windows under Professor Virginia Raguin allowed me to see allegory at work in the street art of hip-hop pioneer Fab 5 Freddy and New York neo-expressionist Jean-Michel Basquiat. And in 2018, when Vanity Fair hailed Pulitzer Prize-winning rapper Kendrick Lamar the heir to James Joyce, I understood that because of Professor Edward Callahan’s teaching of “Ulysses” and the epic as a mutable form.

Not that I understood that at the time.

Last year, I was assigned a short profile about a hip-hop pioneer who’s been rapping for 30 years. It turned into a five-part series as I realized that hip-hop — which some may view as misogynistic, homophobic, violent, obscene, profane or racist — is also high art and more.

Hip-hop is an artistic and cultural movement with a language and an aesthetic built upon four pillars: MCing (aka, rapping), deejaying, breakdancing and graffiti writing. Bronx-born, hip-hop is the street-smart child of disco, funk, reggae, dance and R&B grown to Goliath proportions, powering a $10 billion-a-year industry.

The more I learned, the more awed I was. Hip-hop artists so revere words that they profane them. They add and subtract letters at will. They stretch and pull words like gum wound round the finger. They take two words and smash them together. They take one word and split it like an atom. And the fallout is music — and more: insight into the human condition, the outpouring of a soul expressing love, lust, anger, frustration, hatred, unity, pride, virtue and vice. It’s all there in an art form born of urban poverty, where cardboard was the dance floor; the voice, the instrument and mic; and the street corner, the stage.

Scholar and literary critic Sir Geoffrey Hill wrote that poetry fights “the inertial drag of speech.” Hip-hop is airborne. Its most gifted practitioners are revolutionaries, delivering depth charges that happen at the level of the sentence, if not the word. Even its criticism pulsates. Poet Kevin Coval writes, “The break down, polyrhythmic, funky sections of records extended by Kool Herc, Afrika Bambaataa and Grandmaster Flash [laid] a sonic foundation for the largest global youth culture in the history of the planet rock.” This culture sounds its barbaric yawp, slams its poetry and dances in “pop and lock and spin . . . defying the limitations of body and gravity,” Coval says. Hip-hop artists are Whitman’s heirs, the type of epic poet-inventors Shelley envisioned in “A Defence of Poetry.”

Hip-hop soars while doing heavy lifting, acting as a conduit for literature, philosophy, art, music, social justice, theatre, history and advocacy. Hip-hop artist and activist Xiuhtezcatl Martinez uses the medium to raise awareness about climate change. Jay-Z, Macklemore and Ryan Lewis use it to preach acceptance and inclusion of the LGBTQ community.

Of course, the art form has, at times, been rightly criticized for all of the reasons I mentioned earlier. Much like Picasso has been criticized for misogyny, Twain for racism and coarse language, and Bukowski for misanthropy and vulgarity. And then there’s Joyce, who was well-acquainted with critics’ charges of the lewdness, pornography and blasphemy in his work. But criticism is just opinion and art never promised to be pleasing.

I can offer no proof, but I am pretty sure I’m one of the few 52-year-old white women who couldn’t wait to buy “There Existed an Addiction to Blood,” the 2019 release from experimental hip-hop group clipping. I know many, however, who paid a premium to see the group’s lead, rapper Daveed Diggs, play Thomas Jefferson in the Broadway musical “Hamilton.” And your kids and grandkids adore him as Mr. Noodle on “Sesame Street.” Hip-hop culture is everywhere and we are the richer for it.

This content was originally published here.

[theteenagetrickster]

Holy Cross Alumna Likens Greek Classics to Hip Hop Music

I’d been a hip-hop music fan from grade school, when a Catholic kid’s idea of rebellion was bellowing Blondie’s “Rapture” a cappella on the school bus until the driver screamed. I graduated to old-school hip-hop classics, “Rapper’s Delight,” “White Lines” and “Jam on It,” delighting in warp-speed rhyming you could dance to. When I got to Holy Cross, UB40 and U2 were the music of the moment, so I shelved Grandmaster Flash and the Sugarhill Gang.

Still, my relationship with hip-hop continued, through the poetry of Langston Hughes, introduced to me by Professor B. Eugene McCarthy. My study of stained-glass windows under Professor Virginia Raguin allowed me to see allegory at work in the street art of hip-hop pioneer Fab 5 Freddy and New York neo-expressionist Jean-Michel Basquiat. And in 2018, when Vanity Fair hailed Pulitzer Prize-winning rapper Kendrick Lamar the heir to James Joyce, I understood that because of Professor Edward Callahan’s teaching of “Ulysses” and the epic as a mutable form.

Not that I understood that at the time.

Last year, I was assigned a short profile about a hip-hop pioneer who’s been rapping for 30 years. It turned into a five-part series as I realized that hip-hop — which some may view as misogynistic, homophobic, violent, obscene, profane or racist — is also high art and more.

Hip-hop is an artistic and cultural movement with a language and an aesthetic built upon four pillars: MCing (aka, rapping), deejaying, breakdancing and graffiti writing. Bronx-born, hip-hop is the street-smart child of disco, funk, reggae, dance and R&B grown to Goliath proportions, powering a $10 billion-a-year industry.

The more I learned, the more awed I was. Hip-hop artists so revere words that they profane them. They add and subtract letters at will. They stretch and pull words like gum wound round the finger. They take two words and smash them together. They take one word and split it like an atom. And the fallout is music — and more: insight into the human condition, the outpouring of a soul expressing love, lust, anger, frustration, hatred, unity, pride, virtue and vice. It’s all there in an art form born of urban poverty, where cardboard was the dance floor; the voice, the instrument and mic; and the street corner, the stage.

Scholar and literary critic Sir Geoffrey Hill wrote that poetry fights “the inertial drag of speech.” Hip-hop is airborne. Its most gifted practitioners are revolutionaries, delivering depth charges that happen at the level of the sentence, if not the word. Even its criticism pulsates. Poet Kevin Coval writes, “The break down, polyrhythmic, funky sections of records extended by Kool Herc, Afrika Bambaataa and Grandmaster Flash [laid] a sonic foundation for the largest global youth culture in the history of the planet rock.” This culture sounds its barbaric yawp, slams its poetry and dances in “pop and lock and spin . . . defying the limitations of body and gravity,” Coval says. Hip-hop artists are Whitman’s heirs, the type of epic poet-inventors Shelley envisioned in “A Defence of Poetry.”

Hip-hop soars while doing heavy lifting, acting as a conduit for literature, philosophy, art, music, social justice, theatre, history and advocacy. Hip-hop artist and activist Xiuhtezcatl Martinez uses the medium to raise awareness about climate change. Jay-Z, Macklemore and Ryan Lewis use it to preach acceptance and inclusion of the LGBTQ community.

Of course, the art form has, at times, been rightly criticized for all of the reasons I mentioned earlier. Much like Picasso has been criticized for misogyny, Twain for racism and coarse language, and Bukowski for misanthropy and vulgarity. And then there’s Joyce, who was well-acquainted with critics’ charges of the lewdness, pornography and blasphemy in his work. But criticism is just opinion and art never promised to be pleasing.

I can offer no proof, but I am pretty sure I’m one of the few 52-year-old white women who couldn’t wait to buy “There Existed an Addiction to Blood,” the 2019 release from experimental hip-hop group clipping. I know many, however, who paid a premium to see the group’s lead, rapper Daveed Diggs, play Thomas Jefferson in the Broadway musical “Hamilton.” And your kids and grandkids adore him as Mr. Noodle on “Sesame Street.” Hip-hop culture is everywhere and we are the richer for it.

This content was originally published here.