#you shouldn’t celebrate anyone’s death wtf

[reasonsforhope]

hey i get what youre trying to say with the taylor swift post but as of a few days ago shes trying to sue a college student who posts her (publicly available) flight logs. she very much does not give a shit about her carbon emissions and she shouldn’t be celebrated for her mediocre attempts to seem climate-conscious

I get what you're saying, definitely. I also did actually know about the thing with the college student when I posted that, so I wanted to give some context about why I made that post:

First, I personally didn't view it as celebrating her so much as celebrating progress. I think that if we never acknowledge wins, we'll end up dispirited very quickly

Second, recognizing when people decide to be less shitty is, at least I think, an important carrot in the carrot-and-stick dynamic of using public opinion to influence public figures

Lastly - and this may well be an unpopular opinion - but I don't actually hold her actions re: the college student against her

Why?

Well, for one, it was a cease and desist letter, not an attempted lawsuit. A cease and desist letter isn't legally binding, nor is it the start of a lawsuit - it's more like she's Putting Him On Notice. A cease and desist order can be followed by a lawsuit, if it's ignored, but it doesn't initiate one. Likely Taylor Swift will try several other steps of resolution before actually telling her lawyers to sue this guy, if only because the headlines would Not look good (x, x)

But more than that, I don't hold it against her because when Taylor Swift says that it's a matter of life and death for her, I believe that's very true.

Like, don't get me wrong, I'm not mad about her flight data being up either. And I'm not particularly a fan of Taylor Swift

But I also think that if I had to read through the rape and death threats she gets on an almost-certainly-daily basis, I'd want to vomit.

And I think that was true before Trump and his minions got obsessed with the idea that she's the keystone in the next Biden-election-stealing Pentagon psyops plot. Now - especially in the days right before the Superbowl, when this alleged conspiracy is supposed to happen - I don't even want to think about the brutality of the threats she's receiving

(For anyone going "Uh, wtf?" about the MAGA Superbowl Taylor Swift conspiracy thing, yes, I hate to inform you that it's A Whole Thing. More info here: x, x, x, x, x, x)

Taylor Swift does have stalkers, and now she has a bunch of MAGA paramilitary conspiracy theorists absolutely furious with her. If I were her, I'd want to do every single thing I could to keep information on my movements and in-the-moment location off the internet, too

tl;dr: I don't necessarily think she cares about the environment, but I'm not mad at her for sending a cease and desist letter because I think without her extensive security, she would be in real danger now, including possibly danger of being killed by armed MAGA conspiracy theorists

You're allowed to be mad at her and dislike her (obviously!), you're allowed to totally disagree with my attitude toward the cease and desist. I just wanted to share my rationale for including the post (and it is something I went back and forth on tbh)

[stemroses]

Lol

Oh goodness I’m dead. Wtf am I talking about.

Reblog and put in the tags what happens when you type in “never" "gonna" "give" "you" and "up"

[idk-my-aesthetic]

a concept

U know how in the comics Aang starts rebuilding the air nation with ppl who are basically converts to their religion? By like teaching them about the air nomad’s ways and stuff?

What if he gave some of them air bending using energy bending? And they could start re-building the air nation and it’s culture by teaching them everything!! They could even start moving back into the temples now that they could fly and rebuilding

They’d even have the bison!! According to the wiki aang found a living herd after the war !!

Idk just. As a Jewish person genocide stories are really really personal to me. And the thought of being the last of my people is terrifying

I just really want the air nation to have a chance to rebuild in a natural way. And I think that like letting ppl choose to convert and gifting them with air bending would probably be the best way

Ik aang’s kids and grandkids have air bending but trying to rebuild an entire nation from one bloodline is.... not the best idea

And I also know that in lok a bunch of ppl are given air bending, but that whole story really rubs me the wrong way (no hate to lok though!! There are parts I like!!)

Under the cut is basically an explanation as to why I take issue w/ it and find it mildly offensive/an essay about cultural appropriation in general lol. but i don’t wanna kill ppl’s dashes so if you wanna see the explanation check there 

but i really think that aang like.... allowing ppl to convert, and teaching them, and gifting them w/ airbending in the most natural/best way for that story to go and i wanted to share that!! :) 

anyway time for a whole essay because i.... apparently need to explain and justify every single one of my opinions. i’ma blame the adhd. 

I have 2 main issues w/ the new air bender plot. a) the air Nomad religion/culture is pretty explicitly seen as a closed one and b) it’s sort of a cop-out.....

so... first:

 Air bending is pretty explicitly a huge part of the air nomad culture and religion and is extremely spiritual. bc of how religious and spiritual it is the idea of ppl just.... randomly being given it really rubs me the wrong way.

It’s really really hard for me to explain this or come up with an irl example, bc these ppl didn’t ask for air bending, or try to gain it in anyway. So it’s not really their fault. But to me it feels almost like accidental cultural appropriation? If that makes sense

Which like. cultural appropriation is obviously bad. Even in the comic I originally referenced (the promise) Aang is initally really really offended by the people practicing the air Nomad religion when he first finds out!!! Which he should be!!!

There’s a difference between cultural appropriation, culture appreciation, and sharing culture. The first is bad, and the second 2 are good when done correctly.

Ima use an irl example w/ Judaism just bc using this personal experiences is apparently the only way my brain knows how to explain things

Scenario 1: Amanda (who is xtian) decides to research the Jewish holiday of Passover and the traditions behind it just bc she’s interested in it

This is cultural appreciation! She’s just learning about smthn she finds interesting. This is generally ok! although in some cultures there is knowledge that you are not supposed to know or discuss if you are not part of that culture and you should 100% respect that if it is the case 

Scenario 2: Amanda learns about the Passover seder and decides to throw one herself

Dont fucking do this omfg. This is cultural appropriation. Passover is a super important and religions holiday! It’s one of the high holy days and celebrating it on her own isn’t ok! 

Scenario 3: Amanda asks her Jewish freind Alex if she can come to his Passover seder

This is cultural appreciation and cultural sharing!! It’s totally valid!! She respectfully asks to join in and be included! 

it’s diffrent from cultural apropriation for one huge reason. she is joining in, rather than celebrating it on her own with no jewish ppl present 

Scenario 4: Amanda eats gefitlefish just bc she likes it 

this is appreciation! even though there are no jewish ppl involved! bc gefiltefish isn’t a holy/religious/spiritual thing. 

different aspects of different cultures have different levels of importance. as a general rule, if smthn is holy/religious, you should not do anything with it, unless invited by someone of that culture. if it’s not then you can generally do it on ur own (though there is some grey area there. ie, moccasins are smthn that aren’t religious to native americans, but if ur not native you shouldn’t be producing and selling them. if you want moccasins by them from actual natives) 

scenario 5: amanda contacts a rabbi and starts the conversion process 

this is...... just conversion lol. when she is finished with the process (which can take months/years) she’ll no longer be xtian and be jewish!! just as much as anyone who was born into judiasm. she’ll be able to host her own seders and any of her children will be jewish as well :) 

sorry for the really long thing!!  but i felt it was necessary to show the difference between some concepts that seem similar but are actually vastly different!! 

anyway, i hope y’all understand the difference between cultural appropriation/appreciation/sharing. if ur asking urself “ok why does it matter tho” friendly reminder that alot of irl ppl have been murdered for trying to peacefully observe their cultures/religions :) 

including the air nomads! (hey segway...) 

they are literally hunted to extension because they are part of one culture/religion. you could argue it’s a racism thing (which it is) but race, culture, ethnicity and religion are all inherently tied. see: almost every non-xtian religion worldwide 

SO. when you consider that a) the nomads were killed for their religion b) airbending was incredibly significant part of that religion, isn’t it weird that random people who have 0 connection or interest in that religion suddenly have airbending?? 

again it becomes like accidental cultural appropriation. which you can’t really blame the characters for in-world

but, these aren’t real ppl. they’re characters in a situation that was written by real ppl, real ppl who can and should be criticized 

not that i’m trying to call the creators bigoted in anyway! this dosn’t seem like anything that was meant to be offensive. and it’s not really that offensive unless you think about it. to me it just seems like a plot point that wasn’t fully thought through. i don’t bring it up to shame the creators, just as a way to show others why it’s smthn not to be repeated 

and, to show a better way to do a similar story 

the reason i went so in depth w/ the explanation of cultural appropriation vs appreciation vs conversion is bc i wanna show why a different way of approaching a similar story would have been better

the reason i think my whole idea (of ppl basically contacting aang or the air nomads, converting to the religion, and then being gifted air bending through energy bending) is better than ppl being randomly gifted it is bc conversion takes work 

to convert to any culture or religion you a) need a connection to someone in that culture (usually made by reaching out to a religious leader) and b) need to actually be accepted by that group in order to be considered one of them. it takes work and dedication. it’s a literal transfer of culture!! it’s just... ack i’m not good at explaining it 

but dosn’t it make so much more sense that ppl who actually worked to integrate themselves into the culture and become one of them are givin airbending? not because it’s a privilege but bc they need to first become part of the culture in order to have any right or claim to it 

but by just giving it to random non-benders it’s basically the reverse!! yes they later learn the culture and religon, but???? thats not how that works??? wtf??? 

i feel like i’ve been talking in circles and i’m sorry if i’ve bored everyone to death but i hope u understand my point. 

anyway! next thing! (i swear this part will be way shorter) 

by just making a bunch of random ppl airbenders it basically retcons one of the longlasting effects of the 100 yr war and almost just... erases the impact of the air nomad’s genocide 

which. is gross and uncomfortable. genocide stories are touchy subjects and smthn that need to be treated with respect 

just giving random ppl airbending it’s almost like the genocide didn’t matter at all. which i take a huge fucking issue w/ ok and i don’t feel like i need to explain why 

instead of a natural rebuilding of the air nomads it’s just fixed with spirit magic. it’s just... an insult to the really compelling and well written genocide story that was in atla and an insult to the irl ppl who related to that story 

so. yeah.... again i’m not trying to call out the creators, i again think this plotline was more accidentally insulting than purposefully 

i already propsed a better way to do it by allowing converts to gain the ability to airbend. (hell it dosn’t even need to come from energy bending or aang. the air nomads were incredibly spiritual, maybe a spirit gifted it to the ppl who earned it instead of random fucking ppl) 

but the other reason that converts instead of just.... random ppl gaining the ability is better is bc there aren’t gonna be that many ppl to convert!! there’s not gonna be some sudden boom in the airbending population!! theres would still be a story of the nation slowly healing and rebuilfing itself instead of the insulting sudden magic fix

oof. sorry for the long freaking thing. i literally went into this just wanting to share an idea and instead spent over an hour analyzing this stuff lol.... 

i hope this was coherent but if anyone’s got questions about anything i said feel free to @ me or shoot me an ask :) as long as ur polite and stuff i’ll answer to the best of my ability 

[hopetofantasy]

‘Wandering Romance’ - Part 3

- A future with child fic -

Square Filled: Future, Family, Past lovers Ship: Sander Driesen/Robbe Ijzermans   Trigger Warnings (if applicable): mentions of abuse, toxic relationships, minimal self harm. Created for @skamevents

Summary: “A perfect, tight little family. But happy. Until one unfortunate day in May, in the year that David turned six.”

In the future, Robbe and Sander have a son named David. The only tie they have left with each other, actually. Because our lovers split up years ago, due to mistakes that were made in the past.

So is their love strong enough to sustain a healthy friendship? Will they find their way to each other again or break all connections for good?

Also available on AO3

——————————————————

CHAPTER 3: 'No one feels the same'

——————————————————

It was the sound of crying that woke him up.

He wasn’t dreaming anyways, because his dreams were reflections of his mind. And his mind didn’t want to cooperate, at least not for the last few hours. He knew why, though. He just didn’t wanted to acknowledge it. He wasn’t even entirely aware of drifting back to awareness. He didn’t want to face the world. The world was filled with empty pain and love lost. True love felt like an illusion, even when he tasted it for a while. 

It all tasted sour now...

He slowly hauled his tired body of his yellow, crumpled sheets and tried to identify where the sound came from. Some lingering thoughts forming on the outskirts of his empty mind. ‘Why was this happening?’ ‘Why did it sound like such an agonizing heartbreaking thing?’ ‘This feels so deep, too deep...’ 

He simply didn’t know.

He acted on instinct, when he crawled towards the mop of curls, bouncing on top of a blubbering mess. Legs tangled into the soft blanket, a hollowed ball of sorrow on the barely fitting mattress, nails unconsciously scratching the arms, leaving deep red marks. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be permanent. Even when the pain felt like it was. But he simply couldn’t ignore it. 

He felt it too.

His own heart broke at the sobs.

A mirror to his own feelings.

“Robbe...”

No answer. Just the sound of pain put away for too long, underneath multiple steel layers. A sudden halt to the loudest sobs. Softer tears streaming down the angelic face. Him even crawling deeper into himself. Unclear mumblings. A nail struck harder into the white skin. 

A slight drop of red.

Sander couldn’t ignore that. He immediately grabbed the other’s hands, pulling them towards the side. As a result, causing the soft body to fall into his own. An older pattern from days long before. When they looked at each other for hours on end, forgot the world ever existed and their bedroom air was filled with laughter or passion. Sander didn’t want- he didn’t try to reflect. 

He tried. But he failed.

“Robbe, wake up! WAKE UP!”

Dark brown eyes shot open to meet the green. Teary, tired and hollow. Things Sander knew best. He felt like somewhat of a specialist in these feelings, unfortunately, not by choice. Fate had dealt him a bad hand. But never for this love. True love, his mind whispered. For the silent boy staring at the deep green of his soul. The one who immediately crawled closer to his warmth. 

Who brushed softly over the broken, red skinned knuckles of his right hand. 

Who silently whispered “sorry” to him.

Who didn’t even need to do that.

Who pulled his face closer.

Laid hands on his side.

Breathed on his lips.

Took one second.

And eventually...

Made Chernobyl happen.

  -^-

  Only few hours earlier, they were met with different feeling: enthusiasm.

“God, I missed you two”, the raven haired boy exclaimed, while grasping at  both his and Robbe’s arm. It had been too long, though, when they truly had a boy’s night. A real night of good clean fun. Just with the five of them. 

Unfortunately, life happened. Jobs happened. Kids happened. Well, maybe not unfortunately, gratefully, but it was just hard to say goodbye to your youth. And say hello to responsibilities. To unpaid bills on the counter. To tired days alone.

To broken minds in the night. 

Yeah, okay, Sander, time to tone you down a little. 

“Yeah, boys, we really need to do that trip we’re always talking about. That road trip to nowhere. Just a week without anything, like we said right?”, the beach blonde answered. His answer lighting up all the faces around the table. 

Aaron was bouncing his head to the idea, always eager to explore more, to learn more. Robbe looked at him with puzzled eyes. Thank god that their son had a sleepover, because this was probably going to be an eventful night.

Moyo barked out his roaring laugh. “Like we don’t keep planning that thing, over and over again. Last time we brought it up, it was right before Robbe started dating someone else again. The time before, Jens decided to spew out a couple of kids. And then that time we came up with it, the whole thing with N-”

The brown skinned boy suddenly stopped, winching at his unfinished sentence. They all knew what he meant, though. It had been just a couple of nights before Noor’s death. One of the few magical ‘before’ moments they collectively remembered. Like they could survive anything. Knowing that they were there, filled by drunken laughter, silly jokes and endless teasing. The prologue to the rest of their lives. They didn’t know at the time.

He tried to examine his friend’s face, catching Robbe doing the exact same thing. They had conversations about this. Maybe Moyo never truly knew, what she had meant to him, himself. There had been lingering somethings in the past. Treaded paths not taken. Careful whispers, loaded glances and brushed lips, too subtle if you didn’t had the knack to pick it up. But the ex-couple did. 

He saw how Moyo gripped his glass tighter, urging the gold liquid through his throat. He coughed, asked the rest if they needed anything and walked away with the platter of empty drinks. A glimpse of shiny eyes. Leaving an awkward silence between the squad. 

It was Jens, who eventually broke it. 

“I think he never got over it, you know?”, looking at his trembling hands. 

“Who ever did?”, the other curly boy answered hoarsely.

“We never did. It wouldn’t have been fair to her.” 

Sander nodded along. 

Sometimes, he caught himself looking at his son, with a heavy breath, seeing her in his features. Reopening all the old wounds from before. But then, his heart would fill with unconditional love again, because, thank god they still had a part of Noor on this world. Readily to love. To see how he would grow. How he would blossom into more than he already gave today. Pride.

“I miss her.”

“Me too.” 

“Me too.” 

“Me too.”

Loss is a part of you, it never leaves. 

“Guys...”, Jens choked out next. “... I need to say... I’m sorry...”

Again, a curveball they hadn’t anticipated. The boy’s eyes were slowly filling up with tears. They all remained silent, nodding along, knowing that this was something Jens needed to say. The group were never big on feelings, but this sure felt like a beginning. Therapy. Catharsis. A peace of mind.

“I’m sorry.”, the dark haired started rambling. “This is hard for me to admit. But, I should’ve never kept David a secret for you all. I mean, it’s just... Noor wanted to have some time... to deal with all of this, right? She panicked the moment the stick turned blue. I never knew who the guy was and she never told me, either. But then she made me promise never to tell anyone, even you all. 

Noor tried to fade into the background more, so nobody would ask what was happening. I shouldn’t have supported that decision... But it’s what she wanted. Trying to set up a stable life. A 9 to 5 job, a savings account and an own apartment. She even took the crappy job at the art school, that paid less than her talents were worth. But she was happy, you know?”

Sander felt the urge to lay a hand on Jens’ shoulder. Robbe seemed to have the same thought, because he was already doing it. They really needed to stop with this telepathy thing. It was starting to freak him out. They weren’t a couple anymore.

���I... I loved her like a sister. I thought she was going to be a great mom. And I was there as the fun uncle, not necessarily the father figure. Noor didn’t want that. She could do it on her own. “I can change the diaper myself, idiot”, she’d yell at me, while throwing some of the baby powder in my face. “I don’t need a babysitter, Jens.” “Go live your life.” She would laugh at the things I did. She was always stubborn like that, you know?” 

A collective, watery smile.

The way Jens told this story, though, it felt as if she was standing right next to them. Her presence felt so tangible. Sander could feel her, rolling her eyes, screaming things like “Are you really all crying over me, now, almost a decade later? Dude, wtf, have some fun. Talk about tv shows. Cars. Beer. Idk. Not death. What the hell, people? Get some shots!” Hands would be thrown. 

He wanted to revel in that ghostly warmth. Celebrate her life. Find a perfect spot to spray a huge, damn mural. Instead, he said: “Jens. We know how she was. Please, don’t say sorry. We know how you tried. We know she was stubborn. She would say the same if she was here. You never did something wrong. Sometimes fate is just an a-hole. She shouldn’t have died so young. You couldn’t have known.”

He pinched the raven boy’s arm, trying to make him look up. He was met with a face filled with pain. “One day, we will tell David about her story. All together. He’s smart, he knows a lot of biology already and next year, he’ll get sex education in school. We’ll have to tell him some time how he came to be, who he is and what he means to us, right? We can do that.”

“Together”

The deep brown found his, exactly like they should. He knew Robbe said those words, before his mind registered them. As if he was thinking with his heart. As if he ever stopped thinking with his heart. His other hand trailed towards the other, knowing it would be there without question. And their fingers intertwined. 

Then he saw that a certain someone had eavesdropped on their conversation. 

Moyo had took a while to come up for air again...

They had let him.

Because they understood. 

  -^-

  Conversation had become more of an option rather than a necessity. Faces started to blur, music roared in his brain and sweat drops rolled from his skin. After the bar, they’d found their way to the city centre, to some obscure underground club Moyo said ‘was the bomb’. The atmosphere felt invigorating, as if a painting came to life. Filled with colors, vibes and feelings. Much more of an extreme Bosch than a calming Monet.

A few shots in, Aaron somehow caught the eye of a beautiful brunette. Since he’d never truly grown out of his awkward phase, it had been a blast to see that train wreck happening. And in no way, they were gonna save him from that situation. It was too funny to let it slide. 

It almost felt like the old times. Almost.

Because as intoxicated as he was, he felt his burning gaze. He didn’t had to look. He knew what he would see if he decided to turn towards his ex-lover. An excruciating mix of hurt, pining and lust. A reflection of his. They knew each other better than any other soul on the world, so it came as no surprise that they felt similar about the whole situation. 

He just didn’t know if he wanted to open that can of worms.

Ever since the David Bowie performance by their son, there had been something more. Even more longing, even more hurt, even more doubt. But Robbe had a boyfriend. The exes shared a beautiful son. They were divorced. They couldn’t just do what they wanted, without consequences. There were others involved. Sander just didn’t know how long he could it hold off anymore.

On cue with his thoughts, the boys suddenly decided to ditch them both, to buy some stuff from a backdoor dealer. Something to take the edge off, he guessed. They’d eventually come back, but that wouldn’t negate the predicament they’d put him in. He didn’t dare to move inside his ex’ neighborhood. He didn’t want to leave him alone either. So he was stuck either way.

The answer came in the form of a drunk body colliding with his, punching him right off the barstool. The helping hand, the held breath, the brown eyes. His soulmate’s eyes. What was it with them? What made them so interesting? So filled with love and passion and hurt and just so many emotions at the same time. He once tried to put them on paper, but he never got them right.

His brain couldn’t function anymore.

He let his hands do the work. They grasped the shirt in front of him, a vaguely familiar black one, and pulled hard. His shiny lips just one breath away and Robbe was already closing his eyes, moaning loudly. Moaning his name. Sending all kinds of emotions through his body. He just needed to take that next step. Slowly... pulling... in...

Before Robbe was roughly pushed away from him.

“I need to talk to you, NOW!!!” A rough voice yelled. 

“Okay...” The other answered carefully.

And Robbe was pulled away, leaving a nauseous Sander behind.

  -^-

  He didn’t meant to eavesdrop.

He didn’t.

Really.

He never thought he was gonna hear Robbe argue with his boyfriend.

It clicked in his brain, the minute he bought some water and went outside for some fresh air. Sobering him up a little. Second guessing what he was about to do, a few minutes ago. To maybe ruin the careful friendship they developed, after so much pain and memories. Maybe it was better to be saved by the bell than to make that mistake again.

But then he heard him. 

“... kissing your ex!”

“I wasn’t kissing my ex, Wouter!”

“You were about to! Don’t bullshit me, Robbe. This is one of the reasons you broke up with me, didn’t you? To get back together with that lowlife?”

Excuse me?! What was he insinuating? He was a productive member of society, thank you. His work brought in enough to pay his bills, take care of his son and even save some up for later. He wasn’t a lowli-

Hold up, did Robbe’s boyfriend just say that they BROKE UP?!

“He’s not a lowlife! He’s my ex, he’s the father of my child and he’s not the reason we broke up either!” Robbe retaliated right away. 

“Then why did we, Robbe? I don’t get it. I thought we were good together...” Wouter seemed to try another approach. Whispers instead of yelling. He could see the body language changing from a harsh, defensive stance to a softer approach. It made Sander’s skin crawl. He didn’t know why. It was some sort of vibe that was just... off.

“We weren’t good together. I don’t know if you noticed, but we were NEVER good together. And you know exactly why...”

Wouter held up his hand, trying to touch Robbe’s cheek, wanting to calm him down. Yet, that last one immediately slapped the hand away. He could see how it affected the now-apparent-ex. How the hands started to form fists. The eyes started to flinch. Similar to a bull preparing to strike towards the matador.

“Oh yeah? You thought we were never good together, huh? What are you insinuating? I picked you off the metaphorical street, Robbe, because you were so heartbroken over someone who didn’t even think twice about dumping you. Even with your collective history. I build you back up to the man you are now. I made sure you were loved, that you had your needs filled, that you could call me whenever you wanted. And I did that, didn’t I. Right?!”

A flash of doubt on the other’s face. His expression filled with contradictory emotions, his body freezing at the featherlight touch of Wouter’s finger trailing his cheek and his eyes... Sander never saw them this pained. Eventually, after a short silence, the brown haired boy whispered: “You did that, yes. And I’m grateful for that. But you did other things too. I... I just can’t anymore. I can’t.” 

“What can you do anymore, Robbe? What? US? YOU MEAN US?!”, the other started yelling again. 

“Stop yelling, Wouter”, the other said calmly. (Fearfully?)

“What’s wrong, baby. You used to love when I yelled at you. You used to love to be yell to. My name, over and over again. After I made you come, over and over again. You never begged me to stop, remember? You wanted more. More of the harsh words, the cuffs, the pushing, the burn inside, the pain, right? I remember not having a safe word at one time. That time was fun, no?”

Sander suddenly felt furious. What the actual f? Was this dipshit really saying what he was thinking right now? No safe word? Pain? Burn inside? What the hell did Wouter do to him? He saw how the expression on the man’s face changed to a cold, emotionless look. The look of something dangerous. Something that rang all the alarms in his brain. His whole body started to prepare, to release inner anger. To fight.

“I... I...”

“You want me, right?”, the other said, with venom in his mouth. “You still want me. You can’t stop thinking about me. Even after what I did to you. You keep coming back for more. You want it, Robbe, face it. You want the pain. You love the pain. You love receiving it. 

Even when you say ‘no’, 

I know you want it. 

Last time, last time was a mistake, you know that. You shouldn’t have said ‘no’. You didn’t mean it. I wouldn’t have drank. I wouldn’t have trying to go to your son’s room. You wouldn’t have fell by pulling me. Then you wouldn’t have had the bruises, the cuts. The broken bones. If you just had let me, I could’ve-”

He never got to finish that sentence.

Because, after that, a flash of beach blonde hair moved into the man’s vision.

An ex-lover. A father. A man with bottled up agony, hurt and anger.

Someone who needed a perfect release.

And Wouter?

Seemed to be the perfect victim.

Excellent even, to liberate him from that pent-up energy.

So for Sander, the world temporarily turned black.

Until only the color red was left.

  -^-

  Chernobyl was beautiful at first.

Chernobyl was love second.

Chernobyl was warmth as a third.

But then Chernobyl was also pain.

Agony.

Heart breaking.

A nuclear disaster.

Which Sander discovered the following morning.

When he turned around to kiss his boy.

His beautiful ex-turned-lover-again.

  And found the bed empty.

[skelffricat]

Uppa (Mother)Hoods

I have never given birth, yet I have made three children. At the cosy NCT* group in the Ormeau Library, where I went with my first child (when I managed to get up early enough) I felt ashamed of this. The mothers there were Proper Mothers, with scars in their vaginas; tits out for milking; organic rice cakes for snacks; and great pride in their beautiful birth stories. They were horrific to me (the stories, not the mothers). I couldn’t talk about my birth experience without crying. I even made my GP cry, telling her about it. My eldest was whisked out of my unconscious middle in a now-derelict hospital in South Wales, while my legs were stirruped up (I once made the mistake of visiting the Erotic Museum in Amsterdam- the Sex Museum is better- whilst very stoned. One tends to be stoned, in Amsterdam, I suppose. The floors were confusingly slanted, giving me a sinking feeling, and the top floor’s “sexy” scene was a hospital one. Mannequins in stirrups do NOT turn me on. I had to immediately leave. I may have wept.) There was a student in the hospital room, with horror on his young face, gawping between my legs, and a nurse was urging the doctor to wait for me to go fully under the anaesthetic before he sliced my layers open with the scalpel. My eldest’s father had already been bade to leave. I think he signed something as he left. Signed our lives away?

I learnt later, whilst perusing my eldest’s little red book**, that her lung had collapsed. (I asked why they hadn’t told me. Oh, but it’s fairly common, they said. One in ten thousand. Not worth mentioning, really. Wtf?!) She had pooed in my womb (how rude!) and inhaled some of her own meconium. Meconium. Meconium. I had already learnt that word as a teen, from the band James, in their brilliant song, Gold Mother.

Then I had three friends- well, six, really- who had had stillborn children, at full term, and stopped feeling ashamed of how my child had made her clumsy entrance to the world, and merely relieved that she was alive and kicking, and proud of her. The biggest, reddest, loudest, baby in SCBU***. (“How will I know which one is mine?” I had croaked. Then, it was so obvious, I’d laughed.) I can also feel smug about not pissing myself on trampolines, or every time I sneeze, like most of the women I know who’ve had natural births. Perhaps I’ll start an Unnatural Childbirth Trust. Do your pelvic floor exercises. Now. 

TRIGGER WARNING: I am going to talk about teenage suicide.

Now my youngest child has died, by suicide, just short of her 15th birthday, and I try to feel relief that she is at peace, and that I got 15 glorious years with her. If I think about birthdays like the Chinese people do, I can call it 16****. Almost a woman.

I found her. She arranged that I would, I suppose because she thought I could cope with it better than her father could (she was right, of course. She was usually right. She was very wise. I miss her wisdom, and her unfailing ability to open any jar I couldn’t. She was strong.) I don’t know how to feel about that. People keep telling me that I’m strong, but it seems strangely shameful to be strong at this time (and I still can’t open jars). Perhaps the anti-depressants are working too well? I wonder. I worry that my blasé attitude to death made her decision easier (though I understand that it is pointless to worry about these things now. It won’t bring her back.) We tended to talk about death a lot. Some of my friends had died by suicide, and I would discuss with my mother, her granny, around the children, how suicide was no longer a shameful thing. How you shouldn’t say “committed” in front of it, because it hasn’t been a crime in the UK since 1961. It shouldn’t be a crime anywhere. We went to funerals in brightly coloured clothes. I celebrated dead people’s wonderful lives with them. 

She was hanging from the trapeze I’d had built for her, in our quiet back garden, from a hammock that I had bought for her. I had wondered about the hammock being out there in winter, and thought it was tied in a funny way, a few days before, but not done anything about that. I try not to regret that either. My logic comforts me thus: at least these things could be taken from the garden, and destroyed (the hammock) or used again (the trapeze) and I didn’t have to cut down any trees. I said to myself- she would have done it anyway, somewhere else, at some time. She did it with her things. She used to do amazing things on them. She could soar and swoop gracefully from that trapeze, and even the hammock got strung up high and spun from. 

I had been drinking the night before with my lovely Scottish lover. We watched Wild at Heart, and drank red wine. I thoroughly christened the new bright yellow carpet with a full glass of it, oops. Tried to clean it with a sock. My youngest child was baking in the kitchen. She made a vegan chocolate cake. At one point I went in to her and she was sat on the floor, looking at the cake in the oven. Her head was practically in there. When I was a child, we had electric, not gas, and I thought that people who killed themselves by putting their heads in the oven were cooking themselves to death. How did all the heat not escape, I wondered? How long would that take?! Those thoughts went through my head as I looked at her. She had attempted suicide before, around a month ago. We had been to the hospital. She convinced them (and me) that she wasn’t suicidal, and was sent home. I am not angry at this. What is the point in being angry? She is gone. She was a good actress. A cry for help? She had been to CAMHS that very day. I felt hopeful. She was making cake! She was going to try school tomorrow, in her own comfortable clothes. She hadn’t been for ages. She was too anxious, about uniform, about what to learn, about the future. I asked her what she was doing and we laughed about her proximity to the oven.

He and I ate the cake, later, with natural yoghurt. It was delicious. We called her to join us and she wouldn’t. The last time I saw my youngest daughter alive I was thinking about her killing herself, in a jocular way. Then she did. In a jugular way. Fuck, sorry. I find myself saying the most inappropriate things. 

Sometimes I imagine her last breath. Or dream of disembodied heads. I wonder did she change her mind at the last minute, or feel resolute, and pleased with herself, her escape? Did she make a noise? Did she call out to me, to anyone? I guess you probably can’t call out...? At first, the shock was so severe, I couldn’t think about it without feeling a massive surge of pure panic. I saw my face in the mirror that morning, and it was ashen grey. Later, my eldest described the sensation as a perpetual feeling of dread. Impending doom. Yes, I said, like we’re waiting for something horrific to happen! Then we would realise it already had. My heart thumped so viciously hard inside of me, it felt like it was going to jump right out of my chest. Proving its aliveness. Until I calmed it with (mostly) legal drugs. In the next few weeks, I liked to listen to hearts beating, breath flowing. People being alive, alive- oh. 

My lover had left that night, as he was to go on a walk early the next day. I am so relieved that he had. He has his own demons. He never went on that walk, of course, but at least he didn’t have to find her. He left at around 3am. Her bedroom door was closed. 

I awoke just before 6am. I’m not sure why. I expect I needed water, because I’d been drinking wine. Her door was open. The light was on, and I could see her bed was empty. I got water, and went to her room and saw there was a note on the bed. It was written in green biro, on an A4 file page, folded twice. There was a little cheeky red smiley face with its tongue out on the outside. It was a suicide note. Full of love. Was it a suicide note? So much love. It can’t be a suicide note. I started to look for her, around the house. It was still very dark. I was switching on the light in a room and looking around it and switching the light off and looking in another room. I couldn’t find her. I looked in some rooms twice. I even opened the compartment under her bed. I looked in the cupboard under the stairs, like Harry Potter’s room, that she and her friend had once shut themselves into, to see each other’s glow-in-the-dark bicycle helmets. Where is she? I thought. This is the worst game of Hide-and-Go-Seek ever! Perhaps it’s not a suicide note. Perhaps she has run away? I got dressed. 

Then I found her, in our dark and silent back garden. As she was on the far side of the trapeze to me, her feet were level with the safety mat under the trapeze. I thought for a second that she was just standing there, very still. I was still hoping it was all a joke. A mistake. One of our white garden chairs was beside her. When I realised she was hanging, I swung her slightly. This movement haunts me. Her face... her face was distorted. Her tongue lolling out. I hope you never have to see that on anyone. Especially not your child. My friend hanged herself years ago and my daughter’s face reminded me of her dead one. So, I was thinking, she is dead, in one layer of my mind, and in another, I was thinking, I shall save her. I was calling her, and caressing her freezing face. She was so cold. Dead cold. I ran into the kitchen, got a serrated knife. I am unsure of the order of things. Had I already phoned 999? Was I trying to talk on the phone whilst doing all of this? I cut rapidly through the hammock- it was easy. She flopped into the muck. It was so mucky. I was trying to pull her by the arms onto the trapeze mat, away from the cloying mud, but she was a dead weight. Dead dead dead. No help there. I couldn’t move her. She was so ungainly. I felt inept and weak. I tried to put her in the recovery position. Then I thought, oh wait, no, I need to do chest compressions- I can’t do that on a soft mat anyway. I kept dropping the phone in the mud, and the man on the end of the line was almost shouting at me. 

I put her on her back and was doing chest compressions and he was asking, “is she breathing?” 

She seemed to breathe when I pressed her. I thought, oh! She’s alive? I kept pressing, and dropping the phone in the mud, and I was all mucky too, and she wasn’t breathing- I was just pushing air through her- but I had a glimmer of hope, and the 999 man was counting with me through my mucky mobile phone, and I heard the ambulance coming, and I said to him, I have to let them in! and he said, NO! Keep pressing! I said, I have to, my garden is inaccessible, and I let them in. Two ambulances, filling my dark quiet street with noise and lights and hope. 

They took over. They asked for towels to kneel on in the muck. I’d never thought of that- I got them, as quick as I could. I paced, and watched, and walked away then watched again, and the cat jumped and wheedled around everything. Did he see her die? I wondered? Why didn’t you come get me, cat, like Lassie, or Skippy, or fucking Flipper!? She must have shut the kitchen door and kept him away. They tried and tried, and I paced. They did the defibrillators. Then her breasts became visible and I baulked at the indignity of it, whilst knowing it was entirely necessary, and just... human. They did the adrenaline shots. Four of them, taking turns. Is there any hope? I asked one. Not really, he said. We’re trying because she is young. She’s been there a while. At least I could feel less guilty about getting dressed. I kept thinking, why did I get dressed? I got dressed to go find my dead daughter. 

Was it starting to get light? It was going to be a beautiful morning, I thought, what a pity she can’t see it. I changed out of my mucky clothes. Layered up. It was so cold. There was time, while they tried to save her.

They tried for 20 minutes before they pronounced her dead. There was mud everywhere. They put the mucky towels in a shopping basket I had outside to light fires in. The ambulance people all told me they were very sorry for my loss.

I don’t like euphemisms for death. 

Saying I’ve lost her implies I could find her again. I suppose I find her in my dreams. Though I dreamt of different, unknown, children last night. Two little mixed race boys that I was minding in the (huge dream version) of the Carnival Centre. They kept running away and messing about. At one point we were all on top of a huge concrete topped lift (elevator), that lurched away from beneath us so that we flew into the air. It was falling faster than us. How is that possible? We couldn’t catch up with gravity. Griefity? We weren’t falling fast enough. I keep dreaming of losing children. Not children dying. I dreamt I lost my son the other night too. He was led into a room I wasn’t allowed in. I could see him through the window of the door I couldn’t go through. Then he went out of my sight and I woke up, shaking, horrified.

I recently found my daughter alive again, in a dream. She was very wee- three or four. Before her first haircut. She was being really bold and naughty. She kept running away from me, and she had pooed herself a little, and was rubbing the poo on things, half on purpose. I was trying to catch her and clean her and her hands. We were on holiday? Maybe on a big ferry? I think we had to catch a flight. She had run into a swimming pool room and climbed into a pile of boxes and upset the boxes, and pulled another little girl on top of her and hurt her too. I was trying to pull them out, without hurting them, without losing my temper. I was really trying hard to keep my temper. I was thinking as I woke, if this keeps up, she'll be taken off me. It was so vivid that as I came to, I thought, I must text the Woodcarver; I must text my youngest daughter, to see if she's ok. It was quite a while before I awoke properly and thought, of course she's not ok, she's dead. She's already away. Then I got upset, and cried, but I was glad I got upset because I've been taking anti-depressants and not feeling anything much, so it was a relief to feel sad. I accidentally hadn't taken any for a couple of days at that point.  

Saying she has passed annoys me more. Passed what? Her exams? Wind? (That’s always funny.) She has passed tense? She is past tense.

It wasn’t until she was pronounced officially dead that I phoned her father, the Woodcarver. I thought, there is no point in giving him false hope like mine. He made a loud guttural noise, like a wounded animal, on the other end of the line. It woke my son, who was staying with him. He thought his father was dying. Wrong relative.

It was a brightening cold morning by now. The police came. Her father came. He kicked the white chair she had used, and broke it. This satisfied and disturbed me in equal measure. He hit his head off the sink. I was frightened by him, despite the police presence. I was frightened for him.

The police were very kind. A man and a woman. The man was comfortingly camp. They had masks on. There’s a pandemic, it is said. They took their hats off, but left the masks on. No-one else really bothered with masks, for the next while. I was fascinated by the police officers’ dark green peaked hats- one for boys, and one for girls- on my kitchen table. I made myself tea and put sugar in it. I never take sugar in tea. I’d heard it was good for shock.

My dead daughter’s father’s brother came. He told me to phone my mum. I said I would wait until she normally got up. What is the sense of breaking your last peaceful night’s sleep early, to find out something that won’t be any less dreadful half an hour later? He had brought my son; my daughter’s father’s mother; my daughter’s father’s girlfriend. This is starting to read like Anna Burns’ The Milkman. My daughter’s grandma was also fascinated by the police officers’ hats. She said that one wanted mending, and she wished she had a needle and thread. I didn’t think to fetch her one. I asked if it is true that pregnant women are allowed to pee in police officers’ hats, but they hadn’t heard that before. I kept checking the time on my phone, every few minutes, and drinking sweet tea. I was waiting for the real morning to begin. Nothing has felt real ever since, though.

When I did ring my mother at 8am, she didn’t wake. My little brother did, though. He went and told her in person, and when she arrived, she was bawling, and had forgotten her glasses. She looked tiny. She was due to see everyone the next day. She had been quarantining as she was not long back from Spain. I deeply regret not bringing the children to wave at her in the garden. She hadn’t seen them for months. 

We were flitting between my house and our friends’ house round the corner. My garden was now a crime scene. My daughter’s father didn’t like this. He wanted to hold her lifeless body’s hand. At that point, I thought I never wanted to see her lifeless body again, but I changed my mind a few days later, and that was alright. I saw her in her casket and her face looked... Dead, but not distorted any more. She looked peaceful, I suppose, and very beautiful, in a sad way. She was surrounded by toys, trinkets, food she loved. Dried mango. Finn and Jake. Her elder sister tucked her pride flag around her. She hadn’t seen her for ten months. 

There were many people now, milling inside, and out in the sunshine, between the two houses. The neighbours were out and about, too. I had made horrendous phone calls to a workmate and a couple of friends and the word was spreading. I had phoned my eldest daughter in Wales. To spread the word. The bad word. The worst words. I have had Joshua Burnside’s song, The Good Word, in my head a lot, this last while.

“Last night I dreamed

We were running for our lives

From robots in the jungle

Helicopters in the sky

But the ground opened up and I

Couldn't save her

Couldn't save her

Couldn't save her again

Oh no

No sir

Not this time

Glory hallelujah.”

My lover came down and was of the utmost comfort to me. When the coroner had been and they were to take her away, the Woodcarver’s biggest brother- he that had been there first- came to me in the other house and asked did I want to say goodbye to her body? I said, no, I do not, that is not my daughter any more.

I sought comfort in words. We read poems on her bed. 

Various people told us of a humanist celebrant. She offered to help us for free, and she did, and I am so grateful. 

A friend gave me valium. At some point, someone went to the offy. More and more people came. The lovely camp police officer returned, with my daughter’s bank card, and people panicked, because of Covid, but he didn’t say anything. He only wanted to help.

The next while was a blur...

*National Childbirth Trust- it was the only secular one. I also enjoyed the ones in churches, with their cream teas, and knitted religious folks, trying not to try to convert you and yours. It perhaps could’ve been called the Natural Childbirth Trust, because they kept banging on about it...

**The NHS issue these red books as personal child health records. 

***SCBU- the Special Care Baby Unit. They pronounced it Skiboo, in their lovely Welsh lilts. My doctor looked like a child. She had been working for 24 hours straight, and was still charming and kind.

****Age reckoning originated in China, where it's believed that a baby's age starts from its time in the mother's womb. The practice is also common in Korea, Japan, Taiwan, Hong Kong and Vietnam.

[stemroses]

😡 ay, who the fuck-

[maddiicake]

Dear (people listed below)

@miss-mary-grace

You pretended to be my friend just so that you could “sleep your way to the top”. You’re only friends with that certain group now because of me. I never got any thanks, except just some “I know what I’m saying will hurt your feelings” Well, bitch, if you KNOW, then that just shows your colors. Again, you KNEW--you said YOU KNEW--, yet you still did it because YOU KNEW. You didn’t stab me in the back. You stabbed me in the front while you were smiling and pretending to be the “innocent soul” that you have everyone believing you are.

I was Miru’s sister first, by the way. We even endearingly called each other “hermana” just as such. So, sorry to burst your bubble, sweetheart, you weren’t her first “sister”. 

If I could go back in time, I would refrain from commenting on your poor excuse for art—talking about how “cute it is”—, and completely disregard you as a person, much less an artist. You only advanced and grew as an artist BECAUE OF ME. And I, unfortunately, got to see you true colors when you decided to indirectly admit that you were using me. 

Now, I’m used to people pretending to be my friend. But this was the first time someone had done so just so that they can get to where they are in life now.

So, just remember... You’re only Nova’s “little sister” because of me. You’re only friends with all of them because of me. You’re only where you are now because of me.

~~~

@zorakschicken / @zoraksrambles

Fuck you.

During the entire year where you had family member after family member (and your dog) die, I would drop messages here and there checking in on you. I didn’t bother you with messages every single day, like I’m sure you like to think (because “Big Bad Saki/Kura” is constantly and daily harassing people, apparently -__- ). Yeah, I vented to you now and then, but, compared to the times where I sent messages of support to you... those spurts of venting were SMALL in comparison. But, obviously, me venting was just oh so much more outrageous than the supportive messages that heavily outweighed everything.

“I won’t block you. I just think we need to take a break.” That was what you said before we agreed to take a break. And what happened? YOU FUCKING LIED! You blocked me on every single social media outlet that we share. Now, I don’t have a problem with being blocked--I could honestly care less if I got blocked--; what I’m pissed about is that you LIED ABOUT IT. Now, I blocked you first, because, for half a month after our agreement to “take a break”, you would snoop around on my dA (I track IPs, and have your name listed as such every time you pop by, so I know it’s you). It was really creepy and sus af, so I very briefly blocked you because “if you want to take a break from being friends, why tf are you snooping around...? >A>;;” So, you could back off. And then what? You block me for no reason? I didn’t fucking snoop around on you, like you did to me. WTF, dude...

And another thing that always bugged me... you Commissioning Nova. yeah, she’s your friend--but SO WAS I (at the time, at least). And you even mentioned to me how interested you were in my commissions, which were marginally cheaper than hers. So, for someone going through “financial issues”, you certainly are a hypocrite. Not to mention... it shows who you really saw as a “friend”, and our friendship meant nothing.

“Saki is always so negative. I can’t handle such negativity. It’s toxic.” You have an entire blog dedicated to hating some version of a series. What’s your excuse? Nothing but a double standard, if you ask me. Imagine being so high on your horse that you dedicate your time to something that upsets you. (That’s not me being hypocritical. That’s me saying “Hey kettle. You’re black just like me.”

You have schizophrenia. So what? I have Borderline Personality Disorder, but you don’t seeing me play that card as an excuse for my fucking behavior. I never have used any mental illness to excuse my behavior, which, let’s be real here--I’m fully aware of my negative track record, but not once did I play the “mental illness” card. I’ll use it to explain my behavior, yes, and emphasize that that’s the main reason why I’m Public Enemy Number 1 in the FMA Fandom and the reason why everyone left. But, I don’t use my mental illness like some “Get Out of Jail Free Card”, or to make people pity me or anything.

You may think that me making this call out post is the worst thing I could have done to you, but I could have done much worse. Remember: We shared phone numbers. I promptly deleted yours after we agreed to “take a break”, because I’m not that type of person to do shady shit with people’s personal information, unless it’s 100% necessary. 

At the end of the day all I can say is this: Fuck you, you lying ass two-faced piece of shit.

~~~

@novanoah & @mari-m-rose 

Despite what you may think... I do have screenshots. Or, “Proofs” as you like to call them (because “proofs” is totally a word, and not the incorrect use of “proof”... -_- ). The most recent screenshot is of Nova in 2017 committing libel against my friend with a one-sided no-”proofs”-used-to-back-up-her-claim post on Tumblr just to use her mob mentality and further show that she’s the type to use her popularity against people who are smaller than her. (Those “proofs” I have, by the way, and can show how full of shit she is).

And, it still disgusts me to this day that you are “happy” that I was told to kill myself. Are you kidding me? And here I thought I was the one that was fucked up in the head, and all I’ve ever done to all of you was stupid petty shit. To be “happy” that a person you don’t like is told (by numerous people) to kill themselves though...? What the hell is wrong with you? In that case, I’m sure you were crossing your fingers and praying for my death when I was diagnosed with cancer--only to have your little celebration party canceled when it wasn’t a severe type. But, I’m sure you got all ecstatic afterwards when the YouTube Ranters went out of their way to find my mailing address for the sole purpose of “Making [me] so stressed out that [my] cancer comes back and kills [me].” By your logic, you should be in absolute euphoria from that -__-

Sorry to disappoint you all, but the harassing, petty, little twat that bothered you all and gave you a hard time for a decade to the point she made you all (and every other single person) leave the Fullmetal Alchemist fandom is, unfortunately, hard to get rid of.

Speaking of Nova committing libel... let me just say that your little fanbrat Retreat coming after me last year wasn’t unnoticed. I knew it was sketchy af the moment they first appeared—it was no different than Cheery’s fanbrats Vixx_Der coming after me on Twitter for no reason and completely out of the blue just a month prior. So... Nice try at attempting to “give [me] a taste of my own medicine”. Committing borderline Tortious Interference... yeah, okay. That’s totally not something I could sue for. If not--defamation (which, had I known was a suable offense at the time, I would have totally done against Mayou back in 2016). 

And, like I mentioned in Mary’s little snippet up above... she’s only your friend and “little sister” because of me, so you’re fucking welcome. And, if it turns out that she’s using you the way she used me... I will laugh my ass off.

Above all else, and most importantly, my view of you both and the rest of the FMA OC Matriach is, has been, and always will be the same. I made a vow to “knock [you all] off your throne(s).” And I still plan to keep that promise. Because people like you shouldn’t be using that “I have a big number of subscribers/followers/watchers on my page, which makes me better than you~” mentality like you all have been. You’re all--every single one of you--are nothing more than HUMAN BEINGS. You’re not better than anyone one else, and you never will be. Guess what, snowflakes? Outside of your little cyberspace “safe place”, you have no power. Stop acting like you’re better than everyone else, especially to KIDS who are HALF YOUR AGE, and you think it’s right to make some stupid tumblr post (that has no evidence backing up your claim, and can be considered defamation, if not libel) painting that CHILD as an “evil person” and to order everyone to block them just because they said something you didn’t like. “I respect people who have different opinions than me” is the most obvious lie you have ever told. You’re nearly 30-years-old. Act like it and grow up. Stop bullying kids by abusing your power. You’re a HUMAN, just like the rest of us.

~~~

@mayounnaise / @sharkynnaise

Don’t know if you have a tumblr on here or not, but I couldn’t care less at this point. Let me go on the record of saying this:

Commit defamation against me one more time. Commit Tortious Interference like you did with (commissioner, who I won’t mention) again one more time. I dare you.

I WILL sue your ass, knowing what I do now--that what you did is a suable offense.

~~~

@miru-p 

I could say some pretty fucked up things right now, but I’m not that terrible of a person. I mean, I am a terrible person, but I’m not terrible enough to say fucked up things like: “Your family member deserved to live, and both of your positions should have been swapped over the holidays during that time. I’m sure your family member was a much better person than you.”

So, I’ll just simply say this: Vete a tomar por culo.

~~~

@hitantenshi

You are one of the most hopelessly optimistic people I know. The fact that you believe that people can change for the better is just absolutely sad. I mean, hello, have you seen my track record? I’m the bright and shining example and living embodiment of the reason why people don’t change. No matter how badly they want to. And if it’s because of a mental disorder, well, it sucks, because that diagnosis came too late and the damage was already done.

So, you’re all going to have to deal with this monster while I’m still around.

~~~

And to make it clear to every other single person reading this:

I’m not excusing what I did in the past, nor am I trying to make any excuses. I’m fully aware of the things that I did. However, that doesn’t mean that fakers should get some “get out of jail free card” and get away with it just because “they’re popular” or “friends with popular people”.

I’m fully aware of what I am. And, I’m fully aware that I’m hated because I’m a narcissistic, selfish, heartless, backstabbing, toxic, indifferent annoyance, harassing, ungrateful, apathetic, hurtful, manipulative, bullying, dramatic, sensitive, arrogant, petty, spiteful, over dramatic, drama whore, lying, shady, sociopathic bitch.

I’d constantly tell myself and others that “I’m changing” or “I’ve changed”, when really... I was just lying to them—and to myself—to make myself feel better. Always running away from some imaginary monster, and trying to be the perfect innocent souls that could do no harm. For a long time, I had actually believed that; fooling myself as much as I did everyone else.

Just want to make that perfectly clear. I’m not making excuses or using my mental disorder as an excuse or whatever. I just feel like I have to keep repeating myself all the time when it comes to stuff like this -__- (especially when people tell me otherwise).

[mtvswatches]

Jane the Virgin 2x05 Chapter Twenty-Seven

Spoilers disclaimer (please read before sending messages or writing comments.)

Click here for previous recaps!

Stray thoughts

1) Hmm…

There are days we will always remember. For me, that day was… Not relevant. Sorry. This is not about me. There are days the Villanueva women will always remember.

To be honest, the role of the narrator is one of the aspects of this show that has piqued my interest the most. I think this line, for instance, was specially written to throw us off because there’s a certain ambiguity to it. On the one hand, there might be no underlying meaning to it, and it could well be the writers just trying to joke around. On the other hand, it almost feels as though the narrator almost slipped up and gave something away that he (she?) shouldn’t. The calendar was already on the screen when he said this, so could the narrator be one of the Villanueva women?

2) Okay…

So she has made up her mind. FINALLY.

3) Oh, wow, I know that I joke about this a lot, but she IS a moron!

MORON: You got to play the cancer card.

RAFAEL: What?!

MORON: Just say that you're having a relapse. I'm serious. Just to buy you time to win her back.

This is doubly offensive because she is a fucking doctor!

4) Alba’s green card storyline really freaks me out, I feel like the worst is going to happen…

5) Oh, wow, this is the proposal every girl dreams of!

How could she say no, right?!

6) WTF!

I was not expecting that!

7) OMG

She’s imagining this, right?

8) Right. Thanks, narrator.

9) Rogelio is in a feud with Britney Spears, oh my god, this is the storyline I didn’t know I needed in my life!!

10) I HAVE NO WORDS!

11) hOW DID BRITNEY BETRAY ROGELIO? I NEED TO KNOW!!

12) I get that Petra has built herself a reputation for being manipulative, but I kind of hate how Rafael is always so quick to dismiss her and think the worst of her. Why was he with her for so many years if she was such a horrible human being? I kind of hope Jane intervenes and prevents her from getting married to Milos.

13) Xiomara is a convicted felon!

14) I love that the show deliberately breaks the fourth wall for things that matter…

15) I don’t want to get my hopes up, but I truly hope that this means the triangle is finally over…

But with this show’s track record, I’m sure the triangle will be a fucking pentagon by the end of the episode. 

16) I also hope we get to learn more about Petra’s backstory pre Milos. Why was she a poor Czech violinist?

17) I DIED!

The teleprompter incident? Did she mispronounce her name like Travolta did Idina Menzel’s?

Side note, I really don’t get what they were trying to do with the crew of clone dancers?

18) Well, sort of underwhelming, but exactly the kind of thing Rogelio would be hung up about…

And now, the winner of the category of Hot Latin Star of the Year. A category I wouldn't know anything about, being neither hot nor a star… Wait, what? 

Also, I’m officially a #rogelifan

19) So, this is why Alba is mad at Xiomara…?

20) When you put it like this…

...no wonder Petra agreed to marry him, with everything that he has against her.

21) So glad this happened…

PETRA: You don't have to do this, Jane. I'll keep him away from Mateo.

JANE: 98% is because of Mateo. But there's two percent that's because I kind of care about you, Petra. In that "I don't want you to marry a psycho" kind of way.

CEG’S “Women gotta stick together” is stuck in my head now…

22) Why did he take this angle, though…?

RAFAEL: No.

JANE: What?

RAFAEL: Don't tell me you're choosing Michael. Tell me anything, but do not tell me that.

JANE: Rafael…

RAFAEL: He's not a good guy, Jane.

JANE: You're wrong.

RAFAEL: I'm not. He's shady. And he has it out for me. And you know he does.

So… you basically chose a shady, bad guy to be your kid’s godfather? And in Rafael’s eyes, anyone who doesn’t like him and “has it out” for him is a bad guy? What kind of faulty logic is that?

23) HA!

24)

Because of a violin, Petra?

25) This was funny…

26) Oh!

27) This was so sweet… MORE OF THIS!!

28) Rogulio!!!

29) How many Britney songs did they quote? I need a gifset of that!

30) Could he, though? Could he accuse Michael of being shady and then go and do this?

I’m not a fan of Rafael, but I still need to believe he wouldn’t be able to do that…

31) Oh, god, they hurt the baby!

They both lost her, didn’t they?

32) Yes! Xiomara and Alba teamed up and blackmailed Zed. I don’t know if I should be celebrating blackmailing but here we are.

33) Oh.

JANE: Wait, uh, what's June 12?

XIOMARA: The anniversary of your grandpa Mateo's death.

I was wondering why Alba was locked in her room at the beginning of the episode, it seemed so unlike her.

34) This is going to get to Jane, right?

35) Yeah…

I really do appreciate how apologetic Michael was, he was kind of devastated and ashamed of how he let his animosity towards Rafael made him act irrationally and violently. But I truly think Jane is making the right call here. You can’t control this type of incident the first time they happen. After that, it’s your own fault for not taking measures and protecting your kid. So yeah. Both Rafael and Michael seem to be toxic for her and her kid, at least for now.

36) So the wedding was all a cover for selling these grenades?

37) I guess everything is not coming up Michael…

38)  Hope you enjoyed my recap, and, as usual, if you’ve got this far, thank you for reading! If you enjoy my recaps and my blog, please consider supporting it on ko-fi.Thanks!

[hippychick006]

14.15 - Peace of Mind

I thought I’d do one of these for the current season. 

Meh is the word that comes to mind for this episode.  Not great, not a stinker, just meh.  Would I recommend it as a watch?  Possibly as background while you are doing more important stuff like cleaning. 

If it hadn’t already been yet another episode separating Sam and Dean in an entire season where Sam and Dean have been separated (with only a few exceptions), it might have been okay.  I really don’t think I’m complaining needlessly.  To put it into perspective, the people that I’m watching for (that by their own admission, the show say that the audience is watching for) had a grand total of 108 seconds sharing the same scenes this entire episode.  108 seconds and 50 of those were shared with Castiel.  And I’m just trying to imagine any other show doing this.  Like Starsky ditching Hutch constantly and going on investigations with side characters like Huggy Bear (because Huggy Bear is no longer just an informant, he’s an investigator because he’s a “fan favourite” character and his fans constantly ask, Where’s Huggy Bear so they made him part of the team even though he doesn’t fit).  WTF even is this?

Moving on...  

The story is credited to Steve Yockey/Meghan Fitzmartin and the teleplay to Meghan Fitzmartin.  This is the one people were a little worried about, given Meghan appears to be an open Destiel shipper (which has no place in the writers room or for anyone working on the show - completely unprofessional for anyone working to do anything that might give rise to calls of bias).  From what I can gather, Destiel fans appear to love Steve as they think any gay/bi character he writes is a parallel for Destiel.  It isn’t and although Steve’s given us a mixed bag, he did give us the witch twins in Celebrating the life of Asa Fox and Twigs & Twine and Tasha Banes.   I love the witch twins, great new, interesting characters that we no longer see because the show is obsessed with old, tired, done to death characters that only a very small, very loud section of fandom harp on about).  Sighs tiredly and moves on.

Reading between the lines, I think there was a close eye kept on this one and I think it worked because I can’t for the life of me see anything at all that’s a nod to Destiel.  If anything, the Sastiel shippers got all the cookies and good for them.  Enjoy those cookies Sastielers!  I’ll be over here drinking the hellers’ bitter tears.

I liked the opener, head go splody.  Though the guy that played the gas station clerk was a very questionable choice by casting.  If that had been his 1 minute, then fine, but no, we see him later in the episode and because of the known nepotism on the show, I’m automatically wondering if he’s child/brother/friend/third cousin twice removed of someone on the cast or crew because he is terrible (sorry kid, don’t listen to me, keep working at it, the only way is up).  

Oh great, yet another Cass/Jack conversation.  Cass is not the best at speaking to people as we’ll see later in the episode.  Screams into the void about the distinct lack of Sam and Jack this season.  I know we’re heading for something between them, but this is my problem (or one of many with Dabb).  I think he has the weird view that if he rations the good stuff, then it makes it all the better when we get it.  Not really, it just switches me off from watching the show. I want good every week, I don’t actually think that’s too much to expect from someone who is getting paid to entertain the audience and not bore them to death.  

Anyway, Jack thinks his snake is sad and Castiel suggests it might be missing his former owner.

Ah, now Dean and Cass talk – is there a checklist? If so, it’s missing “Sam and Dean” on it. Interestingly, as I’ve pointed out many times before, their conversations revolve around other people; usually Sam, but Rowena and Jack get included, because “family”  

Speaking of Sam, we switch to him and see he’s having flashbacks of the dead hunters, so he really isn’t doing good. Appears he’s trying to keep his mind off things by hunting constantly and has found another case.  He walks in on the awkward silence between Castiel and Dean (not awkward because he caught them awkward, just awkward because they’ve got nothing in common, other than talking about Sam and Jack and when that runs out it’s just... awkward).   Dean says he needs a break, but Sam’s leaving in ten.  End of.

Castiel: Maybe I should go with him and you can stay with Jack

Dean: Why?

Me: * Whispers * because Dabb hates us and he’s passive/aggressive about it.

Castiel: You were right… Jack is struggling, and I’ve tried…

Dean (interjecting): Why do you think he’ll talk to me

Castiel: Because he looks up to you (Dean rolls his eyes, so I don’t have to), and his soul, I mean… you’ve seen this before...

Me (interjecting again): You really think he’s the right person to handle someone soulless after he beat Sam beyond the point he was already unconscious. Seriously?  I’m with Dean on this one.

Dean: No, no, no, see I was not great with Sam.  You know when he was…

Thank you show for acknowledging this.  

Castiel: Jack’s soul isn’t completely gone.  At least I don’t think so, we just don’t know how much is left.

As I’ve already seen in other posts, my instant thought on this is “You can’t do the fist check?” I’m really tired of wondering what powers Castiel still has and what he doesn’t.  They seem to switch them on and off as needed.

Dean asks how he’s supposed to know.  Castiel says just talk to him, get him to open up.  

I completely understand why Castiel is not going to the obvious person for this – duh, Sam of course – because he feels Sam is overburdened as it is and going though his own issues, so this does actually make sense for me and I’m fine with people trying to keep him out of it while they try and deal with it (It will go wrong though).

Castiel is driving and I seriously have to question Sam’s driving ability at this stage since he’s either happy to be chaperoned around or they don’t trust him in the driver’s seat. Also, all the beautiful classic cars in the bunker and this is the clunker Castiel chooses to drive around in? Would some soap and wax go amiss?

We’re back with Griffin from earlier and least said about this scene the better. The guy is just terrible.  Sorry, but he is and unsurprisingly, only has 1 other credit as “Asian teenager” before getting this part.  

I love the drive through the town.  It’s obvious something is going on with all the clothes dating back to I’m guessing the 50’s.  Castiel: “It’s like we’re stepping into a Saturday evening post.”  Sam at least knows what this is, he’s just surprised that Castiel does.  I however have no clue, so had to google it and it’s a magazine that ran from 1897 to 1969. Here’s one of the covers:

Men doing menly things and women… I’m kind of not sure what she’s supposed to be doing.  I think looking clueless at the engine.  Anyway, Sam looks at Castiel who explains that he “looks at them sometimes after you fall asleep at night.”  Sastiel for the win on this one! Who isn’t picturing Castiel sitting up on the bed reading while Sam sleeps, hmmm? Because as we all know, Castiel has zero boundaries when it comes to personal space and Sam’s not likely to call him out on it, because he’s used to having his personal space invaded..   

I like that they are five minutes into the hunt and they already want to call Dean. They can’t though as no cell signal, so they are on their own.

We meet Justin Smith (the first).  I like him, he’s swell. But he’s yet another clue that all is not right here, not least because he doesn’t know what a cell phone is. My first suspect of being a witch is his stepford wife, so we’ll keep an eye on her.

We head to Harrington’s for a milkshake.  They’re looking around and the place is straight out the 50s, but I’ve been in diners that are set up like this, so it shouldn’t actually be that unusual.    What is unusual, is that Sam accepts a free milkshake from the waitress (Sunny) in a town that he’s investigating and that clearly is under the influence of something. Let’s put this down to Sam being tired (*whispers lazy plot driven writing).

Chip points them to the boarding house where splody head guy was staying.  I love the boarding house, but would have to change the outside colour. I also love that everyone knows who they are, and the owner of the guest house is no exception.  Small towns really are like this.

Back with Dean and Jack. Jack’s trying out different food with the snake.  Dean investigates a Chinese take-out container that he quickly discovers contains live mice and not take-out.  He suggests going out with Jack for a drive.  Jack is hopeful for a hunt, but Dean says more of a field trip. Jack’s okay with that, but first Dean wants bacon.  Of course he does.

At the boarding house, Sam and Cass are shown to splody head guy’s room. Sam asks for coffee, leaving Castiel free to search the room.  He finds some letters under the mattress and is reading them as Sam comes back.  And I know Jared has large hands (beautifully in proportion to the rest of him), but I think there is an element of also finding the tiniest teacups they can get a hold of. However, since this scene gives us another Sam drinks tea gif, I’m happy. Anyway, the letters are from Sunny and are explicit from the sound of them.  

Sam says great, they’ll look into it tomorrow.  He wants to stay at the boarding house because the landlady is making pot roast.  Oh oh.  Castiel for some reason lets this slide and leaves Sam overnight.

We’re now at my first suspects home with Justin Smith (the first).  He’s still talking about cell phones.  He’s started to remember who he is.  He runs out of the house and his head goes splody.  Poor guy.

I’m really not sure that Dean’s test for whether Jack has his soul is legit.  Choosing Angel food cake or Devil food cake.  Jack looks like he’s going to choose devil food cake which arouses Dean’s suspicions but at the last second, chooses angel food cake. Dean heaves a sigh of relief.  

It’s the following day and Castiel goes to check on Sam who isn’t there.  I like Mrs Dowling, the landlady who is cleaning and dancing. She tells him Sam was going for a walk and a milk shake.

Sam is not at the milk-shop place, but Sunny is there.  Castiel seems to be as pissed off as I am that Sam repeatedly gets referred to as “the tall one”.  Sunny tells him about Mr Smith dying so Castiel turns up to Mrs Smith’s house to investigate.  Yet another house I like. Where are all these beautiful houses in Vancouver?   Anyway, Mrs Smith doesn’t look all that upset that her husband has died.  Castiel says he’s looking for his “partner” and that he’s tall with “beautiful hair”. He could have added “drop dead gorgeous” but it’s better than just “tall” so I’ll let it slide.  Mrs Smith is clueless, and I have to question if she’s a robot at this point.

Castiel goes to sit in a chair and Mrs Smith screams.  I have the exact same reaction after I’ve cleaned everywhere, and someone comes in and starts dumping their stuff all over the place.   Castiel starts speaking about her dead husband but Mrs Smith laughs and asks if Castiel has already had a martini today.  We hear someone call “honey” and I don’t know why they tried to hide the person in this scene because Jared has a very distinctive voice so we know it’s him.

I love this next scene though.  We get “agent” from Castiel, but Sam responds that he is: “Justin… Justin Smith” then asks, “And you are?”

Castiel (winking): Your partner

Justin (still smiling): Partner?  Super, that’s swell, great…

Justin (the second), asks Castiel to stick around as they are “having pot roast”.  This seems to be a 50s staple.  Thank Chuck the 70s added prawn cocktail and blackforest gateaux.  I like to give Misha his due whenever possible and his confused face here is brilliant.  Mrs Smith is sent off to make a martini and Castiel tries to get to the bottom of things.  He’s still wondering if Sam is “under cover”.   But no, Sam really thinks he’s Justin Smith and married.  Mrs Smith comes back during this and says they are low on olives and asks “one or two”. Justin is a fussy one though and asks for “three” and adds that he’s “feeling adventurous.”  Mrs Smith does a perfect “rawrrr”, Justin  responds awkwardly “roarrrr”.  I just can’t with Jared in this scene.

I didn’t pick up on it, but with the three olives and “feeling adventurous”, added to Castiel’s wink and “partner” comment from earlier, other people are suggesting threesomes.  If that’s the case, Justin seems up for it.    

While Mrs Smith goes to get more olives (or slip into something more comfortable - who knows at this stage), Sam asks Castiel if he wants one (get your mind out the gutter, he meant martini).  Castiel tells him “Your name is Sam Winchester…” Justin: “So that’s a no no on the hootch?”  Castiel’s had enough and commands Sam to “snap the hell out of it.”

Justin: Sir, you watch your mouth, if we cannot remain civil, then you can skedaddle.

Castiel: Sam…

Justin: That’s not my name.  (He grabs Castiel to see him out). “Cindy, grab his hat.”

Castiel: I don’t wear a hat

Cindy: Honey, I don’t think he wore a hat

Justin: Fine.  

He shows Castiel the door. “Sir, using language like that; h e double hockey sticks (Sam shakes his head and waggles his finger).  You should have your mouth washed out with soap.

Castiel: Sam…

Justin: It’s Justin! (slams door closed).

Dean and Jack arrive at a house, Donatello comes running out.  He and Jack go inside to chat and Dean waits outside.  I think the next bit was supposed to be funny when Dean taps the car to check on the snake then slides along to get away from it.  It wasn’t funny.  And that isn’t on Jensen at all, he’s a really funny actor, it’s on the material.  Don’t force the comedy elements.  Yellow Fever was genius, this attempt is lame.  

Donatello and Jack talk about souls.  And in sharp contrast to Jared with the ridiculous tiny cup earlier, could they have found a bigger cup for Alex? Donatello tells Jack that not having a soul is a lack of pity, empathy, humanity. He asks what Jack feels.  Jack doesn’t know.  He doesn’t feel nothing, but he doesn’t feel the same either. He just doesn’t want Sam, Dean and Castiel to worry.  Donatello, “They’re your family.  Families worry.” (Family mention box ticked – phew, I really thought we were going to get through an entire episode without one).   Donatello tells him he always asks himself “What would Mr Rogers do?”  Jack asks who Mr Rogers is and Donatello answers, “The best man I know.”

Jack: Sam and Dean are the best men I know. (heh!)  Look, I know Castiel isn’t a man, just let me have my petty moment in peace!

Donatello suggests that Jack thinks of WWWD.  What would the Winchesters do.  But considering the Winchesters have continually sacrificed themselves for the other, I’m not so sure this is such sterling advice.

Jack returns to Dean and Dean asks Donatello if Jack is okay and does he have his soul.

Donatello: I suppose the first question we must ask ourselves is… what is a soul?

Dean (I am not in the mood for your shit): Donny...

Donny says to keep an eye on him but if he says he’s okay, he probably is.  He goes on to say that Jack is the most powerful being in the universe, who knows what goes on inside his head.  They both turn to the car and Jack gives a dorky wave.   Dean is not in the least reassured.

Back at Harrington’s milkshake place, Castiel has decided that Sunny is the witch.   He says to tell him the truth or he’ll rip it from her mind (keep an eye on these powers, I’m pretty sure they won’t work the next episode).

Turns out not to be Sunny, but the mayor, he has Justin (the second) with him and he doesn’t look amused, he’s at least a little mildly ticked off with Castiel.

We then get villain monologue – why do villains do this? – Just get on with it. Long story short, Chip can make people do whatever he wants.  Sunny runs out during this - I don’t blame her - and Chip runs after her, leaving Justin and a couple of other goons to deal with Castiel:

Castiel (to Sam): I won’t hurt you, Sam

Justin: Golly, I told you my name is Justin!

Justin is a terrible fighter, even someone as bad as Castiel normally is manages to put him on his back (Sastiel for the win).  Castiel’s actually doing well this fight, but Justin suddenly realises he’s got height and weight advantage and lunges at Castiel, taking him down.  He sees Castiel’s angel blade and pulls it from his sleeve – and if this was Dean and Castiel, the hellers would be going wild right about now, about Destiel being end game and true love (because nothing says true love like one partner trying to kill the other).  Anyway, for anyone interested in the whole top/bottom debate, Sam is on top, but he’s cowgirl in this scene so I’m calling this topping from the bottom.  Don’t @ me top!Sam people!

Moving on, Castiel does that thing where he talks, and he shouldn’t.  He says he knows what it’s like to fail as a leader.  That Sam needs to fight and not lose himself, because if he does, he fails them, all of those they lost, he fails Jack. He fails Dean.  Sam raises the blade and slams it down…

So, a couple of things on that.  The narrative once again saying Sam has “failed” in some way kind of completely sucks. Done with Sam being told things like that and everyone else getting told they did good (*coughs* letting Lucifer out of the cage the second time around *coughs*).  But I’m sure I’ll get hurt!Sam out of it and Dean seems to be the trigger word for Sam to snap out of things so toxic co-dependent bros for the win.

…Sadly the blade slams into the diner flooring and Castiel lives to hunt another day (tries to summon up a “yay” but fails miserably).    But Sam’s back to normal (yay!!!).  

They exit the diner to stop Chip, who TK’s Castiel through the air and tries to kill Sam.  Sunny’s had enough though and uses her own powers on Chip, trapping him inside his own mind.

Dean and Jack are back at the bunker.  Dean asks Jack if he had a good time, Jack: “It was… illuminating.”  

Before Dean can process that statement, Sam and Castiel are also back.   Dean not one to miss some good brotherly ribbing: “I heard you wore a cardigan.” Sam turns to Castiel.

Castiel: Yeah, I told him about the cardigan.

Jealous!Dean alert: And the wife. (Sam looks at Castiel again).  He said you were… really happy.

Castiel decides it’s time for him to exit stage left and goes to find Jack.

As usual with getting nothing out of the episode, the hellers are making a lot more out of the “off screen” conversation between the “hunter husbands” than merits.  Of course Castiel told Dean what happened, it’s more than his life’s worth not to if Dean found out Sam had been in danger and Castiel didn’t tell him.  The phone conversation would have went something like this.

Castiel: Now, don’t get angry, Dean.  First of all, the important thing is that Sam’s fine... now...

Dean: WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BROTHER?!

Back in Jack’s room, he tries to do what Sam and Dean would do.  He thinks they would help the snake so uses his powers to Thanos the snake to the afterlife so it can be with it’s owner again in heaven.  Jack, I really don’t think the owner would have passed the abacus good/bad test so no idea where you actually sent that snake other than purgatory.  Camera pans out and Castiel is watching from the doorway.  Parenting advice from me Castiel: you need to trust your teenagers and give them space.  Constantly checking on Jack is just going to make him feel closed in.      

[forisobel]

REVISITING HARRY POTTER, PART ONE .  .  .

harry potter was a staple for my childhood. beit through the books or movies, i excited at the prospect of following young harry through out his adventures at hogwarts. i’ve been to the harry potter studios in london twice now and display the full collection of books and movies on my shelves, each organised delicately in order. i saw fantastic beasts in cinemas and was mildly confused before being well and truly disgusted watching the most recent crimes of grindelwald. over the past few weeks i have been troubled by one question, how did we get here?

so today we’re jumping in the way way back machine and riding it all the way to 2001, and the release of harry potter and the philosopher’s stone.

my memories of this movie going into it were about as good as my own eleventh birthday, hazy and out of reach. this had frustrated me because it wasn’t the kind of film that was sitting, collecting dust, on my shelf. i would often throw it on in the background while i was doing any number of mind numbing tasks. i could only recall the feeling of great nostalgia that came with it; i was a child again, watching from the living room floor. i could tell you nothing of the intricacies of it’s film making.

over the past twenty-two years, the harry potter franchise has grown, and in some respects metastasised, into a money making machine. the eight movies alone generated over 7 billion u.s. dollars, with harry potter and the deathly hallows, part two contributing to 1.3 billion of that. in the wake of the train wreck that was the crimes of grindelwald, i began to think about how the series managed to devolve to that point. that was when i realised i could recall nothing about the franchise as an object. i could tell you the full, expansive plot of each movie, but i couldn’t comment critically on those movies objectively.

before continuing, i would just like to make clear that there is nothing wrong with liking a movie franchise or a television series purely for nostalgia. all i am doing here is looking at each harry potter film objectively and asking the question how did we get to here?

i’m going to take a wild guess and say most people here know the plot of harry potter and the philosopher’s stone, but going to give you the run down anyway. just in case you need a lil refresher.

an orphan named harry potter learns on his eleventh birthday that he is the son of martyr witch and wizard, lily and james potter. he is invited to attend the highly esteemed english boarding school for wizards, hogwarts, where he forms close friendships with two of his classmates, ron and hermoine. with the help of his new friends, harry seeks to uncover the illusive truth behind his parents’ untimely deaths.

the film was released in 2001 and cost 130 million u.s. dolla dolla to make. it was directed by chris columbus, an american filmmaker. columbus was already well established in the film industry, having directed home alone, and would go on to direct the next two harry potter films. clearly he’s having a bit of a mid-life crisis right now, as his recent projects include the 2015 film pixels. that’s a yikes for him.

i’ve watched the philosopher's stone a few times this week and have managed to cobble together all of my thoughts and comments into one handy list.

the score was phenomenal . . .

kicking things off with an obvious one, i can’t believe i never comprehended how good the score for this movie. the opening track the most recogniseable, however, the whole viewing experience is enhanced by the score running throughout. i am full on willing to proclaim john williams as a god of film scores.

harry was one scary boi . . .

in one of the first scenes of the film, harry and the dursleys go to a zoo to celebrate dudley’s birthday. while there, harry discovers he can talk to snakes and accidentally imprisons his cousin in the snake’s enclosure. this does not faze harry at all, unaware at this time that he is a wizard, and laughs as he watches his aunt and cousin in a state of panic. okay, harry...sadist. this happens again as he watches his cousin grow a pig tail. later on, during a flying lesson, harry threatens to knock malfoy off his broom. like, calm the fuck down, harry! fucking believe you. harry was actually kind of sinister in the first act. like damn.

what was some of that acting ? ? ?

one of the reasons why i wanted to revisit this series was that i have a bit of a pet peeve when it comes to child actors in media. i sometimes forget how heavily the harry potter series actually rides on child actors, being that i was watching the movie at the same age of the actors. now, i am not maligning radcliffe, watson or grint at all, but what was some of that line delivery, lads? the acting was definitely not bad but some parts just felt awkward and forced. i don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but sometimes i felt a little weird watching little forced interactions. maybe it just adds to the charm!

hagrid can make one quick get away . . .

as hagrid and harry make their way through the train station, harry is distracted by his ticket. when he looks up to ask hagrid about the platform, hagrid is gone. where the fuck did hagrid go? either he had to apparate, which he ain’t allowed to do, not to mention harry would have heard him do that, or he had to run away. is hagrid the richard kuklinski of the wizarding world or am i missing something?

hermoine practices magic underage . . .

now, it has been a while since i’ve watched the whole series, but i am pretty sure hermoine shouldn’t be perfecting basic spells at home. like, what’s the story there, j.k. rowling?

wtf is professor flitwick  ? ? ?

this was the first time i noticed all of the prosthetics on professor flitwick’s face. nightmare fuel, lads, i am telling you!

harry is a pot stirrer . . .

i think we’re going to need another feather here, professor. shut the fuck up, harry! no one wanted your imput. i think she heard you. you don’t say! nobody asked you, drama queen. quit stirring the pot. jeez.

wizards are immune to splinters . . .

so you’re telling me that hemoine can be pelted with broken pieces of wood and harry and ron can pick up said pieces of wood and throw them with force and not get any splinters? i think not.

what is harry doing during that first match ? ? ?

during the first quidditch match, harry spends most of his time sitting on his broom reacting to what everyone else is doing. do your job, bitch!

the c.g.i. is actually okay . . .

the c.g.i. and other special effects are of course dated now, considering how much computer generated pictures have improved since the 2000s. however, all in all, i think the film has aged well in terms of it’s cinematography and general design. fluffy, norbert the dragon and the fast paced quidditch matches all look pretty good, unless you go looking for flaws.

norbert was adorable . . .

i would die for norbert.

tom felton's facial expressions were so good . . .

this was something i only noticed as the film progressed. tom felton did a great job at providing me with a good chuckle with his facial expressions. he doesn’t actually feature in the film a lot, consider how pivotal his character would eventually become to the series, yet he certainly makes an impact in some of his scenes.

the professors were so fucking dumb . . .

hagrid is far to easy of a victim here, but mcgonagall has no excuse. shouldn’t the three of them have been on lockdown since the troll incident. i understand, to a degree, her lenience with harry, but not with ron and hermoine. shouldn’t she have found it a little more weird that the three of them knew about the philosopher’s stone? regardless of how they came to find out about it, they could so easily have told anyone about it being in hogwarts. surely that would have jeprodised their operation?

ron was full on ready to die ? ? ?

did ron actually believe he was going to die there? like, excuse me ron, but what the fuck?

quirrell had some nasty ass nails . . .

someone cut those things, please!

voldemort’s character design . . .

i wouldn’t have noticed this the first time around, obviously, but voldemort has a nose in this first rendition of his design? i can kind of understand why he devolves into his more snakelike appearance of the goblet of fire but it’s kind of weird to see him like that in hindsight.

all in all, the philosopher’s stone encapsulates the heart of what harry potter is. i found it quite hard to return to this film, knowing where the franchise would end up. this film and others following it would certainly generate a lot of cash. but films like the crimes of grindelwald frustrate me as they are nothing but cash grab. it exploits an originally wholesome, well-meaning series and destroys its integrity. trying to fit these two films into the same universe is like trying to force together two positive ends of a magnet.

the philosopher’s stone is most certainly not a perfect film, and for me sits in about seventh place in terms of ranking all the movies. but it perfectly represents the essence of the series.

alienating it from the series and taking it objectively, i would give the film a five out of ten. it was never going to be my favourite film, and it wasn’t even my favourite harry potter film during my childhood. looking at it now, there are parts of the script i don’t really like and some line delivery is hard to get on board with. however, this isn’t enough to take me out of the film completely and i can certainly enjoy myself while watching.

this film is definitely a ten out of ten for nostalgia though. i think everyone can remember what they were doing and the feelings they were experiencing the first time they watched the philosopher’s stone. there is something warming and home-y about it. the truth is that this film not made for me any more. it was made for an eleven year old. i’m not sure how much someone who didn’t watch the film in the childhood would get out of this film. the characters were so relatable to me and as i made my way through the books and the movies i felt as if i was growing old and maturing with them. i’m sure i’m not the only one to feel this way and i’m definitely not the last.

in conclusion, this was a nice film to return to, and certain an experience i would recommend to anyone considering it. no, it was not as groundbreaking and thrilling as i once thought it would be. it certainly also makes things such as cursed child and the crimes of grindelwald more frustrating. but, it is certainly a nice one to come home to if you’re stressed out or feeling some january blues.

next month, i shall return to the world of harry potter to revisit the chamber of secrets. until then, you will have to make do with two more lists and two proper reviews. i have a hold the dark demolition in progress for next week, which shall be fun! but until next friday, farewell.

originally posted on the 13th of january . . . 

[anti-anti-culture]

Specific VA Treatment

I already made a general post about attacking VAs and Creators but this one is going to be Voltron VA specific. Bex will be first since you all seem to have it out for this precious human the most. 

Bex - 

- SHE IS ALLOWED TO POST WHATEVER SHE FEELS LIKE, she is a human being like all of us, just because she’s a celebrity does not mean she can’t use tumblr/social media like the normal human she is. 

- Stop sending her death threats for the love of god. She is a person. She has feelings like you and I. Why would anyone ever want to send a person death threats unless they were stupid or had a screw loose? (by stupid I mean you can get in trouble with the law for sending death threats you ignoramuses) 

- Stop sending her threats in general. Literally wtf. She is, once again, a person. Would you randomly walk up to someone and threaten them? No probably not. Don’t do it over the internet either. Also saying you are a minor/mlm/wlw/any other minority doesn’t get you off scott free. A threat is still a threat no matter who from. Even if its a “joke” its still a threat.

- She is also allowed to ship whatever the fuck she wants. She knows more about the show than you do so i think she has a right to do whatever she choses with regards to the show. Let her ship Plance if she wants dammit. 

- Stop calling her a homophobe. You are all dumb. She is the furthest thing from a homophobe. “She’s a lesbian, Harold”.

- idk why you all call her a pedophile. You call Sheith shippers pedophiles (which is inaccurate btw). She doesn’t ship sheith. She support people who do but she doesn’t personally ship it u dunderhead. 

- Boobs aren’t sexual objects. She doesn’t see them as sexual objects. Stop turning them into sexual objects just so you can use it as an argument against her.

Josh - 

- For the love of all things holy stop calling him a pedophile. So what if he likes an imaginary ship or not? 1) it’s not pedophilia, 2) it’s not real anyways, 3) you are making yourself look stupider by the minute by calling someone something they aren’t. 

- Stop sending death threats. I’m going to have to reiterate this in every section it seems like. None of you obviously have morals if you think sending death threats are alright. 

- STOP SENDING THREATS. Again another thing it seems like I will have to keep reiterating. Threatening people isn’t okay. It’s just not. You are taught this as a kid, or at least I THOUGHT everyone was taught this growing up. 

- Never involve a persons children in a situation they aren’t apart of. You are literally the scum of the Earth if you talk ill about someones child or bring them into a situation they should not be in. If someone had done that to my kid they wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me i’ll tell you that right now. A threat against a child is a threat against their parents as well. If you threaten a child you have to deal with the consequence of having a pissed off parent as well. Plus a parent has every right to come at you once you threaten their children. 

- He’s also allowed to post anything he wants. He’s a person, he can make jokes, he can have fun on social media. Stop being a party pooper.

- He is also not a homophobe. So don’t call him that.

Neil - 

- He is also not a homophobe so just stop. 

- don’t threaten or antagonize him. Once again not something you should do. 

- Don’t send death threats! once again a bad thing to do and against the law. 

- just stop being a dick in general to him? He’s a nice man let him live. 

AJ -

- He is precious. Stop waiting to pounce on him for anything he says you vultures (I shouldn’t say that its an insult to the vultures)

Tyler -

- let this man ship Punk (hunk and pidge) in peace 

- i don’t think anti’s have attacked him for anything else???

ALL THE VAs IN GENERAL - 

- Stop threatening them.

- Stop sending death threats.

- Stop policing their social media.

- Stop saying they can’t support ships just because you don’t like them.

- Stop saying they can’t ship what they like just because you don’t like it.

- Stop being dicks to them in general. 

- Stop trying to weed out info about the show from them, they have a contract, they can’t talk to you about future stuff in the show get that thru your head.

- Just stop calling people pedo’s. Dreamworks would not hire pedophiles you idiots. plus YOU SHOULDN’T EVEN THROW AROUND A SERIOUS WORD LIKE THAT WILLY-NILLY. 

- Let’s all be decent human beings alright? alright. 

[gothgirlmahi]

Stan culture is so harmful. Putting emotional stake in someone you don’t know is asking for trouble.

I personally don’t like the obsession with celebrities tumblr has. I like fandom and characters but you won’t find me stalking anyone’s social media or looking up these actual real people to analyze their lives.

Some of you need to detach and learn the difference between fantasy and reality. The fact is that you don’t know these people and they are not your friends. If you get genuinely upset about the relationship status of a celebrity, you need to get help. Talk to somebody. Learn how to deal with those emotions.

Was what that girl did ignorant? Sure. Does that reflect on him? Maybe. Who you associate with can be a reflection of who you are. But once again, we do not know this man.

To the people saying this girl deserves more kindness and should be gently educated? Of course she shouldn’t be getting death threats and be in danger. That’s insane. Also, she is an adult and it’s not anyone’s job to educate her. Least of all the people whose culture she wore as a costume. She’s an adult and google is free. People should absolutely be held accountable for their actions but that’s still not an excuse to try to hurt her wtf. And let’s be honest. The obsessive fans don’t care about the racism, that’s an excuse.

At the end of the day, the fan girls are mad because because he was seen with a woman. Once again, this man does not know you and owes you nothing. He played a character and got paid for it and that’s it. Leave him alone.

You are absolutely out of your goddamn mind if you think spreading his address around is even remotely okay. The same fans that supposedly care about him are trying to get him taken down and cancelled? 🤔 Make it make sense.

I find it very curious how people suddenly find all these problems with him when there’s a woman involved.

And what do people think they’re gonna get out of this? Wouldn’t stalking and doxxing and your own supposed fans trying to get you cancelled make you want to distance yourself even further? So now you clowns will be even further away from him because he’ll probably get afraid to engage with you at all. Like congratulations you’re an asshole.

In conclusion, some of you need your internet privileges taken away ‘cause you don’t know how to act right.

I feel like I should make a post detailing the Sebastian Stan drama because I see a whoooole lot of bad takes and misinformation and blatant lies going around. I’ve been on tumblr for nearly a decade at this point and this is genuinely one of the scariest and most out of control situations I have seen.

A quick summary for anyone who hasn’t been following: Last week, Seb was pictured with a women. Many assumed this was his girlfriend but this has not been confirmed. Fans began combing through her life and social media to find something incriminating. I feel like this is important, that the hatred came first, and the reason came after. They found a photo of the girl, from 2 years ago. I will include it for transparency (she is on the left): she is at an ‘Asian night’ party/club night, wearing a kimono. 

It’s insensitive to use culture as a costume, and to lump all the diverse and distinct Asian cultures together into one party theme, decorated with pound shop Chinese lanterns. It is cultural appropriation. A number of Asian people were understandably upset by this photo and her actions. 

But let me be very clear: These are not his actions. He was not at the party, he did not wear the kimono, he did not post or like the photo, he did not endorse, condone or defend the actions in any way. We have never seen them together before, so presumably this is 2 years before they met. He does not follow her or the friend that posted it 2 years ago on Instagram. There is no reasonable expectation that he ever would have seen this photo. He almost certainly did not know it existed.

He cannot apologise or seek redemption for someone else actions. He cannot set a precedent where he is responsible for everything everyone who comes within 20ft of him did, years before they even met. It is completely insane to expect him to do a full background check on everyone he makes out with, or to expect him and all his acquaintances to be ideologically pure, not be ignorant about anything and never make a mistake.

Some people seemed to realise that he cannot be held responsible for other people’s actions, so they invented something to pin blame on him: he defended her! I searched high and low for his statement defending her. He did not make one. Instead, he allegedly blocked a handful of people who spammed his comments with demands for apologies. At least one of these blocks has been outed as photoshop. If the others are real, we don’t know if it was him or his PR team. We don’t know if their innocent public comment alerting him to an issue was accompanied by vile death threats in his DM’s. Regardless, he is within his rights to protect his mental health by blocking people who harass him about something that is, frankly, none of his business. Blocking is not defending her.

I often hear: cancel culture is not real, it’s simply facing the consequences of your actions. So lets do an experiment where we outline the actions and consequences. If you were involved in the vile hashtags and threats made against him, ask yourself: Are these reasonable, proportional and deserved? Do I have the authority to distribute these consequences? Am I making the world a better place - or a worse one? Is my moral high ground getting a little shaky? 

Action: 

Kissed a girl who wore a kimono 2 years before they met. Allegedly (!!) blocked a few people who harassed him about it despite it being nothing to do with him.

Consequences:

Doxxed, pictures of his apartment and his address leaked online. He will almost certainly have to move from his HOME.

Intense death threats and suicide baiting, including #RIPSebastianStan trending, which his family may have seen and actually thought he had died, photoshopped articles and memorial pictures that say he died

Actual danger to his physical safety through the release of his home address

Emails sent to his newly signed agency and employers to get him FIRED

Severe damage to his reputation including news articles with his name and ‘racist post’ in the title, that do not make it clear it was not his post!!

Most likely a severe hit to his mental health, which he has said before he struggles with, particularly from all the KILL YOUR SELF CLOWN messages

If he was with the girl - well, I doubt he is now, so the possible destruction of his relationship, instead of her getting a chance to learn, educate herself, grow and be better.

I am genuinely concerned for his mental health - situations like this before have resulted in suicide (Caroline Flack springs to mind). His physical safety is also in danger. For the actions of someone else, years before they met. Please, stop this. Please see that you are making the world so, so much worse, and you could actually kill someone through this. Please exit the twitter echo chamber and think maturely and critically about whether your response is proportional, reasonable and necessary. Please see that he is a stranger to you, who is paid to do a job, and we have no more right to demand things from him or make him face consequences than we do our dentists or the cashier at the local shop. Please log off and go outside for a while.

[virgilsinferno]

Dolls [ fic ]

summary: a mysterious figure has been seen carrying a suitcase filled with dolls no one really cares, except for roman. and no one knows who he is, except for roman who may have suspected someone since the start of the party.

warnings: mentions of death, alcohol, magic, and murder. kinda sad.

notes: human!sides au. this made no sense wtf.

smol taglist: @pastel-princey

—

Things can go out of hand sometimes, especially when there’s magic and a murderer in the same room. Roman knew something was off. He’s been paying attention to a guy wearing a brown leather jacket and black skinny jeans that was ripped at the knees.

Thomas had left the party 30 minutes before they arrived, saying that he shouldn’t be out drinking at a night like this. Virgil ditched the party and went with Thomas. They would probably eat buckets of ice cream until 3 am again, but anything was better than going out drinking.

None of them drank alcohol, and were only there to celebrate a fellow friend’s birthday. They weren’t even sure who’s birthday it was, but they attended anyway. This must be their biggest mistake so far. Virgil isn’t there to watch over them, and Patton obviously isn’t in the best state to look after them as he is busy doing some crazy dance moves on the dance floor. And Logan… none of them really knew where he went.

The room was starting to become a lot more darker as lights turned off one by one. The light switches wouldn’t work, and the generator was no where near working. It added to the weirdness of the place, since there were no familiar faces in there. Speaking of, where’d Patton and Logan go?

Roman was breathing heavily. Something about this place seemed off, it was harder to breathe, but no one else seemed to notice as the unfamiliar people continued and having fun, drinking, dancing, and whatnot.

It isn’t his thing to panic, so why is he panicking now? It’s just a house party, with tons of people he doesn’t know. And his friends might’ve left him.

Breathe, Roman.

Just breathe.

Like what Virgil does.

In for eight, hold for seven, out for four.

“Goddamnit, am I panicking? No I can’t, it’s not a disco. Okay Roman, just calm down.” Roman mutters to himself.

Now it’s been 3 hours since he last saw his friends. Why didn’t he call them?

That’s right! Call them!

He reaches into his pocket and feels for his phone. Nothing. So that’s why it felt like his pocket had lost the weight it normally had.

Oh no.

A bright idea strikes him. Just go home, he doesn’t know anyone there anyways. Maybe Patton and Logan went h-

Home! Why haven’t I thought of this earlier?!

As I was saying, maybe Patton and Logan went home to leave him there purposely. Maybe they didn’t want him around. Maybe this was all a set up because Roman is such an annoying “friend”. Maybe they left him at a place he doesn’t even know so that he can’t get home. Maybe he’ll never get home. Is it even home anymore?

I- wait, huh?

Let’s face it Roman, you were always kind of a bitch. You were extremely rude to Virgil before. You made fun of him. You underestimated Logan. You thought you were the best. Patton probably hates you as well because you’re so egocentric. Thomas only hangs out with you because the other three try to tolerate you.

No nononono, they’re my friends, what’re you saying?

I’m saying your friends d͍͙̺͓̜̉̄́́̓̑͌̅̕ò̧͙͉̺̭̖̙͆͆̆͒̌̂̈́͂͘͜ṇ̸̨̛͍͉͑̍̎̓̊̄̉̅̔͜'̧̹̰̜̦̳͎͎͈̬̓͛̌̚͝t̷̜̩̳͙̺̒̑̑̃͗̈́ ļ̵̛̺̱̻̻̮̥̅͂̂̍͟͟ȋ̞̪̮̫̘̦̤͖͒̅̀̑̀͜ͅk͕̗̤̪͓̺̮̆̋͑̔̉̐̑͠͠͡ͅe̢̯̱̮͍̥̹̱͛͋̐́͘͟͝͝͞ y̧̰͔͈̮̱̞̎̊̿̈́̂o͖̺̜̪̗͙̲̺̫̔͆̆̒̿͢͞͠͞u̷̧̲͖͇̺͊̽̍̎͘͞͝!

You’re lying. You’re manipulating my thoughts.

I am not m͖̟͎̙͖̓̈̎̍̓̌̂͘͢͠ͅa̵̙̞̖͓̤͎̭̓̍͑̄͌̃͝n̵̢̮͍̘̝̓̉͆̄̈́̀̾̃ī̴̥̤̙͉͈̩̦̣̺̼͒̈́̋͘͞p̧̨̣̯̻̰̟͗̀͑̀͋̂͟ú̢̹̳̩̿̓̉͆̂̾̒͘̚ͅļ̻̙̲̪͛̀͂͛̊̄̈̃̚͟ã̷̙̲̣̞̭̹̪͖̤͑͆͌̈́͆̚ṭ̴̨̭͓̖̞͗͗̍̿̌͜͟i̛̯̘̙̻̳͔̲̻̲̺͗̋͊̃̓n̵̢̫̥͚͇̰̥̙̗̊̓̄͛͝g̟̱̩̈̍̒̽̌̿͟͜͞͡͡ your thoughts!

Oh and, stop walking. You’re going to trip on a suitcase.

Roman stops his feet. He didn’t even know that he had been walking around as he fought with his thoughts. He stares at the suitcase, wondering why it was open. He crouches down and observes it. It has a foul smell coming from inside, and it has a creepy feeling to it. There’s bits of crimson red on the silver handle, which Roman no longer questioned.

He opened the case, and saw two pairs of eyeglasses, and a shit ton of dolls. Some wooden, some plastic, the others sewn. There was one thing they all had in common, they were all bloody.

“Ś̢̩͍̬̟͎̎̔͐̈́̕͠ơ̻̦̗̯̭͔̪͐͑̍̎̀͡ i̶̛̖̟̲͙̩̓̑̍̓̈͗̚̚͟͠t̨͇̳̦̟̲͙̘̋̈́͗̈́́̉̎͢͝ s̴̩͇̤̩͎̔̈͗́̈̀̾͊͡e̷̟͖̼͌̆̊͗͛͞͝ͅͅȩ̸̯͖̬̤̳̄͋̽̆̚͝m̶̪̥̱̤͍̫̜͎͕̈́̓̈̒͠s̨̧̠͉̪̤̫͖̉͛͆͑̈́̓̌̂̍͡ͅ y̨̳̞͉̥͒̈̈͘͘͝ò̸̺̰͇̲̓̊̏͂͊̊ͅụ̸̧̗͉̳̻͙̠͛́̉͒̎̔͗̀͢͟͡'̢̭̗͈̥̝͉͈̱̝̐̏͑̾̏̃̏̈v̡̡̢̼͓͚̳̤̂̏̉͐͋̃͜ȅ̵͍͚͇͉̮͕̻̩͇̅̍̆͌̿ f̛̲͇̫͙͙̗̎̾̐́̓̈́͟͞͝ȍ̸͔̤̦͎͓̂̑̀͛͛́͑̐͟͝ủ̵̧̠̜̟̻͍̹̥̫͌͛̓̄͊́͜͠n̡̛̜̲̤̥̜̅̋̀́͊̕d̷̝͈̯̰̃̀́̽͛͋̚͟͞ m̧̛̟͕̺͍͍͇̩͈͑̑͗͘͟͝y̸̧̬̻̦̱̍̌̓̅͒͂͢ ḑ̵͖̬̯̫̒̂͑̈͊͘͠ơ̴̰͖̼̩̗̌̀̾̀̎̈̈̏͘ͅḷ̵͕̗̰̪̺̽̽̎̎̇̈́͘l̴̗̫̭͍̘̦͚͇̹͚͌̉̏͂͋ş̵̫̩͕͍̓͒͊̆͆̅́͜͢.”

“You’re the one manipulating my thoughts, huh?” Roman says, not even moving from his position.

“Yes, that was me. Don’t ask me how, it just takes a little bit of magic.”

“What do you want?” Roman stands up, still not facing the other.

“What are we, in a horror movie? And to answer that question, I want you dead.”

“So that’s why you gave me those thoughts?” Roman finally turns around to see who he was speaking to.

Brown hair, brown leather jacket, black skinny jeans. It is him!

“You must be wondering why your two friends are gone, right?”

“Yes. Please tell me where they are.”

Roman keeps up his brave facade. Inside, he’s screaming, wanting to get away from this dude as fast as possible. But he’s curious as to where Patton and Logan are, and why the dolls were all covered in blood.

“You see Roman, I never really liked you or your friends. If you took a closer look at those dolls, those are all people you once knew. Now their gone. Those glasses? Patton’s and Logan’s. That doll made of fabric with a purple jacket? Obviously Virgil. Try to spot a few more familiar people there.”

Roman froze. He crouched down again to look at the dolls closely. Thomas is there, and so is Joan. The beanie gave it away. Talyn is there, too. There were 5 more dolls in there, but Roman couldn’t stand it anymore.

“You know, there’s a way you could reunite with your friends.”

“Really? How.”

“Simple. I just do this,” the guy takes out a knife. “And I stab you goodbye.”

Roman couldn’t move. He felt something cold pierce through his neck, and warm liquid pouring from it. The knife is taken out from his neck in an agonizingly slow manner.

It hurts him a lot. He can’t describe it, the pain was too much for him to handle. He felt himself going stiff.

Roman couldn’t move his limbs. He can’t turn his head. He can’t move at all. With his final breath, he mutters out two words.

“…F-Fu…Fuck… you…”

[steven-blanco]

1-45 😈

1: What’s the most annoying thing about your best friend/s?I can’t remember a single thing that annoys me about my best friends. I just love them.2: Least favorite TV shows?Charmed, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt.3: Favorite moment with your best friend/s?When we graduated highschool, we went to this thing called Six Flags Grad Nite. It was pretty fun because we were enjoying our last moment together. 4: What’s one quality you would like to have?Confidence.5: Name three people of your same sex you would: marry,kiss and fuckRobert Sheehan, Noah Fleiss, Iwan Rheon.6: Do you like your full name?Of course :).7: Tell me your most embarrasing memory.It’s not embarrasing at all but when I remember it my face always turns red. I was on my last day of my first year of secundaria (I think in american education system it would be 7th grade, not sure) and I was 15 minutes late. My school had this rule that made students who arrive late write their names on a paper so the school could make a report. I’ve always been an emotional person and I overshare my feelings a lot. So, the point is I wrote my name on the paper and also put on it “Thank you for this year. I appreciate it”. I can’t think another thing that they read it and said “Wtf with this kid”. 8. Favorite color to wear?I always wear blue.9: Favorite restaurant?Mexican restaurant are so local. If you don’t know them, I don’t get the point of answering this.10: What would be a good first date for you?Maybe dinner or just walking around. If we can talk to know us better, it’s a good first date for me. 11: Are you a good wrestler?I don’t think so.12: Are you allergic to something?To dust.13: Would you be a good singer?My friends told me I have a beautiful voice, so I’d guess…14: Who’s the last person you told “I love you” to?My dogs lol.15: What car would you buy if you had enough money?A beatle. 16: Favorite cover of a song?I can’t decide. Maybe Bette Davis Eyes by Kim or Blame It On The Sun by Emilíana Torrini.17: What was your last conversation about?Today I went to a museum where were three voice actors talking about their careers and a few personal histories. These actors are really good friends and they’ve been working on this for a long time. I want to be an actor because of voice acting and because of mexican voice actors who are so good on their job that makes feel so happy and alive. So, listening to these actors who I really admire, made me wish that someday my work will be so good that it will change someones life. Just like these voice actors did with mine.My last conversation was about telling my dad this. 18: Where were you born?Mexico’s City.

19: Least favorite app?Maybe snapchat.20: Tell me two facts about your country of birth.1. Mexicans can be gentle with tourist but jerks with their own people.2. Mexico it’s not as horrible place as stereotypes say.21: Do you like wearing sunglasses?Not a big fan.22: When it’s a good moment for a first kiss?Any special moment it’s a good time for a kiss. 23: What are your nationalities?Only mexican.24: What would make you drop college/university?Nothing but death.25: A crossover between two shows (any shows) you would like to see?Invader Zim with Rick and Morty.26: Long or short hair?Short hair. 27:A character from a book/TV show/movie that shouldn’t have died?Alisha Daniels from Misfits.28: Favorite movie scene?The final of Pieces of April29:Do you ship more fiction people or more real people?Fiction people. 30: Favorite country song?I don’t think I’ve ever listened to any country song.31: Favorite John Green book?Isn’t John Green the forty years old teenager?32: Least favorite Ed Sheeran song?Not a fan of him. 33: Favorite ship?NickxEllis from Left 4 Dead franchise.34: How do you deal with sexual tension?I smile a lot. 35: Name a celebrity who died that you miss.Brittany Murphy.36: Favorite Harry Potter spell?Never read the books or watched the movies.37: Something you are scared of losing?My voice. 38: Someone you regret meeting?This guy on college who told me on my first week “You haven’t read any of the important theorists of theater. Why are you here then? First year students are idiots” To be honest, he made me cried. I remember I thought “If this is the kind of people who call themselves artists, I don’t want to be an actor anymore”. But I putted my shit together and remembered my motivation. PS: The worst part is that the guy is kinda hot. 39: Have you ever been hurt by someone you thought he/she was your friend?Yes. But I deserved it because I did the same thing once. 40: Do you easily open up to people?Yep.41: What is a gift you love receiving?Communicating with people.42: What is something you could leave easily?Tough question. I don’t know. 43: Rant about that’s eating you upDidn’t understand this question. Sorry.44: If you could make one phone call to anyone right now, who would it be and what would you say?About eight months ago, one of my most important friends died. I met him when I was 13/14 thanks to the internet and an animated series. Since then, I’ve been really depressed and pissed off with this concept we call “God”. I would do anything to bring back my friend and tell him I love him. 45:Are you easy to love?Don’t know. 

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

On a post about how Mom felt uncomfortable about seeming smart, and mentioned in passing my family’s “place” in the community...

aconitum-napellus said I was made to feel ashamed constantly for being clever, at school. And they celebrate physical prowess with sports days. There’s nothing public like that for intellectual prowess.

But just to dial back - your family were shot at and threatened? What? Why? WTF?!!!

On another note, I found this post both interesting and profound.

Oh, I always used to grumble about sports being the focus of everything. In fact the cheerleaders were held in higher regard, and here they didn’t even do any acrobatics, just shake their pompoms and ass at intervals. I’m not being nasty but accurate for my school. In fact as far as I can tell the “elite” team of cheerleaders, the “Silver Bullets”, walked around in what looked like silver swimsuits and boots but didn’t even have to do that much. Athletes and cheer leaders were the stars. But good at anything academic? HA! 

As one teacher said when asked why the struggling  students got stickers as rewards and the ones doing well got nothing... “Good grades are their own reward. You don’t need any praise!” Maybe not, but it might have been nice to feel like it was valued. I mean, theoretically the purpose of the school was to teach those “boring” subjects and not just have football and baseball teams!

You wonder about the dangers my family faced...

(I hope you don’t mind me making a new post about this, but it might be a bit long for a re-blog.)

(Ok, it is VERY long!)

I started to say it has to do with the 1960s, but it dates back farther. While my family has had this land since the area was first stolen...sorry ...”settled” by the English, my great grandmother was orphaned as a baby and raised by an older cousin. I don’t know when great grandma and cousin Annie moved back to the farm, but it was after my grandmother grew up in Norfolk, Virginia. Now while the locals didn’t think a couple of old ladies were outsiders, that would NOT be the case when my father’s parents came back to the farm too.

My grandfather was from around Boston, the wild child son of a wealthy dentist. When he he married grandma (they would be married over 50 years BTW) they moved near where he grew up. That would cause problems with certain members of his family for marrying a southerner, and in fact one of his sisters would never consider us “real” family and try to demand back all his belongings when he died. Still, generally, there time living in Massachusetts would always be remembered fondly. “Home” Pop called it.

Unfortunately a childhood illness had damaged gradaddy’s heart and he had become a pack a day smoker. He was told he had months to live, so he quit cold turkey and became a passionate anti-smoker, so much I was shocked to be told he’d ever smoked. Still, his health was fragile and they told him he needed to move south for the climate (really? This crazy place where temps  in January this year  ranged from 9 to over 80 F? Ok...) And so they came to live here on the farm.

Actually, they toyed with moving near Highlands in the mountains, which would have been right down from Mom’s family home in Franklin. Instead they moved here a year or two before Mom and her mother came to live with an aunt after her parents divorced. If I believed in destiny I would think it wanted my parents together! LOL

Anyway, my father and his parents moving here was not welcomed by the community in the 1950s. They were “Yankees”, which around here seems to mean anyone from north of Virginia. Yankee was an insult. They would chase my father home from school throwing bricks at him and there was a general shunning going on. One teacher his senior year burned their gradebook telling the witnesses “Thay will keep that yankee from going to college!” And this was after my father had won some national science prize (sorry, I forget the name...I think the one for the laser came later). In fact my grandfather (who while ultra charming and with an amazing sense of humor was super tough having been a first mate in the Merchant Marines) ended up going out to the school and pinning the principal to the wall, informing him that this was going to be corrected in no uncertain terms. There was a reason my father had no nostalgia for the era. As a child I defiantly self identified as “half yankee” because even that much later it was looked down on.

Even more appalling than where they were from were their attitudes. See, my family believed in the shocking notion that people were people. They had friends of all sorts of backgrounds, including black ones. The current head of the NAACP’s father was friends with my father, and even in the 1980s I remember the shock of bystanders as they greeted each other as “cousin”. They did that, in case you are wondering, because they might very well be since some of our ancestors had owned some of his ancestors. My family did little things like donate turkeys to the local black school (remember segregation) at Christmas. I really don’t know all the small gestures they were involved in) While not super activists they simply refused to treat people the way the local culture demanded. 

There were apparently rumors my family were jewish, and that made them hated too. Now actually they weren’t. On my Mom’s hillbilly side I DO actually have jewish ancestry, but not on the “Wolfe” side that the locals suspected. My family never corrected them because there nothing wrong with being jewish and why even seem to agree that it’s something you shouldn’t want to be? To this day folks still assume we are jewish.

Now between the outsider status and the views on equality, things were going to inevitably get worse as society took a darker turn. As the 1950s became the 1960s both the civil rights movement AND the KKK were active. In fact, not just this region but this state were hotbeds of the KKK. The tensions were high, making my grandfather’s heart problem worse, so my parents (now married) left college before getting their PhDs (Mom always regretted that to come back here to help.

This area in the 1960s was an ugly place, but it had been an ugly place for a long time. Lynchings did happen, in fact my high school English teacher told how her favorite cousin was lynched when she was growing up. Black friends of my parents were beaten up by cops for walking on the “wrong” side of the road. The first time my grandfather visited the area with grandma they saw the aftermath of a mob castration of a jewish man back in the 1920s, but the tensions had gone in waves. The 1960s were one hell of a spike in hate. 

I have no idea if there was an initial trigger to the death threats, but my family started getting them. And I don’t mean veiled threats or anonymous voices on the phone. These were face to face “We are going to kill you!” threats laces with profanity and slurs I won’t use here.   

You must be wondering why they didn’t go to the police. Well they did, but they say the local sheriff was a nice guy but a coward. There was no way in hell he was going to arrest anyone. Instead he told my family that when they come for you shoot, and shoot to kill. Then bury the body in the swamp and never tell anyone what happened. Especially not him. You will notice it was “when” not “if” they come for you, since the reality was very bleak. I don’t know what percentage of the white male population were KKK, but certainly the majority.

My family were effectively on their own to deal with it.  This meant they ended up with three German Shepherds (one a rather scary ex prison guard dog)  and a bunch of guns. They would make a big show of their target practice, especially the fact that Mom turned out to be a crack shot. It runs in her family, with cousins that were top shots in the military, and here is was very handy so they didn’t assume the women folk were easy targets. Guns were kept at the ready, for instance tucked under the table where the fiberglassed in the business they had started or under the seat of the motorboat. These would be sensible precautions. 

Since I wasn’t alive then I can’t really tell you how many times they were shot at. There were many incidents of pot shots meant to frighten them, clearly underestimating my family. Some incidents were more serious.

Take the one where my father and grandfather were out on the river. Someone up the bank made a serious attempt to shoot them. Since they missed either my father or grandfather pulled out the automatic they had (sorry, I forget gun names), one of those military type serious firepower. They returned fire, aiming roughly towards the area they had been fired at from. They got to see their attacker running for his life!

Actually, returning fire but in a sort of “won’t shoot you if you back off” way was something they did a few times.

You know that big boat of ours I’ve posted photos of? Well, they had a big barn they built to construct it in. Naturally the ones that hated them for existing intended to burn it down. Goons were caught crossing our  fields carrying buckets of gasoline to set it ablaze. They were spotted. At gunpoint Pop told them to put the buckets down and get the hell out. He’d chuckle telling it saying  he got a couple buckets of gas out of it. 

And there was the incident where they got word the KKK would be marching through on the highway and intended to burn a cross of out front yard. Pop and Grandaddy parked out in the front yard in chairs with guns on their laps and the dogs at their side, waiting. And along came the KKK. The KKK mob stopped in front of the house, grandaddy made a show of getting his gun ready, and there was a very long pause as the two sides faced each other. Nobody on either side said anything...and then the KKK turned and went on walking.

Anyway, that’s a selection of the stories I was told. My family was scared of course, despite their determination not to be chased off or intimidated. My parents married in 1959 but didn’t dare have kids until the 1970s because it simply wasn’t safe. While things had cooled down by the time I was growing up I was very aware that some folks mysteriously hated my family. I also knew Pop bristled at certain people, like never setting foot in what was then the only store in town. When I asked why he said “A man seriously threatens to kill you to your face you don’t just forget.” 

Generally though, the community did seem to forget.  I expect now the grandchildren of KKK members don’t even know about their beloved family member’s history. I’d like to think some were ashamed, I know for some it was just realizing the tide of society had changed. In their hearts they might hate, but they didn’t want to get into trouble. In public they whispered their slurs, but what they said at home was probably not so quiet. Classmates would whisper to me things, not unlike what their grandparents had said and then be shocked when I loudly disagreed. They didn’t realize my family’s stance. Funny isn’t it they could forget the past but not the underlying hateful attitudes.

 I suppose it’s nice their dislike of me was based on my own merits! LOL

Anyway, sorry to have written so much but a short “They were liberals in the US rural south, which was nothing like 1960′s hippie nostalgia Beatlemania montages.” seemed a bit too short. 

[asaspro-blog]

A fully compiled list of suggestions for FortNite

New Post: https://fortnite.asas.pro/a-fully-compiled-list-of-suggestions-for-fortnite/

#fortnite #game #fun #esport #news

A fully compiled list of suggestions for FortNite

Before you start reading, I think this game is nearly perfect. I haven't enjoyed gaming this much since the release nearly MW2. This is just a list of ideas I have thought of or seen all in one place that could be used to make Fortnite even better than it is now! Not all of these changes are neccessary, however, it would be nice to have Epic see this list so they are aware of some of the things that might need changing in future patches. If I have not given people credit, I apologise, the list is too long for me to go find the OP's of some of these ideas. Also, if you do not like any of my suggestions, let me know why you think it would be a bad idea.

First off the spectate mode needs a serious overhaul. I understand that they don't want teammates to be massive helpers but seriously, there is no reason we should be forced to spectate with no HUD, no map, no crosshairs, no teammates names. One really annoying thing is not being able to see damage numbers coming off enemies in spectate mode. This needs to be updated so I can actually enjoy spectating.

Now that there is no more friendly fire in squads and duos, going into your inventory screen should also show you your team mates inventories.

Be able to spectate your friends while they are in a game and you are in the lobby. I again understand that this may be not wanted due to the previous argument listed, but when I see a friend that is in a game with 10 alive, I want to watch and gee up so badly. – maybe have a 1-minute delay on the spectate?

You should be able to continue running whilst in the inventory. Controls for this should be the right-stick or d-pad. It would be much easier to make inventory changes on the go, especially when running from the storm.

I think that bushes (item and map-bushes) are a good meta in the game; they offer the chance to win to almost anyone. They cater to people who enjoy the stealthy playstyle. That being said, it is far too difficult to see or notice whether someone is in a bush or not, I shouldn't have to shoot a bush to see if someone is in it. Ideally there would be something that would indicate that someone is in it; maybe make it shake/ shimmer every [designated time] or have a different colour, or feet just poking out the bottom very slightly. Also, after using the bush item, there should be some way to remove the bush. It seriously takes up half your screen and if someone is standing 5-10m in front of you in a close fight you legitimately cant see them.

If your bandages stack over 15 when picking up some more, it should not drop your weapon, but rather pick up the exact amount to get to 15 for one stack. No one ever needs more than 15 bandages.

Mini-shields, bandages and grenades should auto pick-up if you already have some in your inventory.

When in spectator mode other teammates should have a glow around them that is visible through walls, eg. CS:GO. This one can maybe be skipped, as it is a bit gimmicky and takes some skill out of the game. I do think that it is fair enough just for the fact that when you're in your forts, sometimes its a clusterfuck trying to find which level people are on and what not.

Console players should be able to bind their own controls. It's surely not too much time or effort to allow this to happen. As well as this, players should be able to switch the order of their building/ assign buttons eg. R1, R2, L1, L2. Also, at the moment there is a bit of delay on console after pressing the build button to being able to rotate through your build options. The delay is really slight, but when I am in a hectic close encounter fight and want to build, I know that I just have to press circle, R1, R1 to get my ramp. So I smash it really quickly but instead of taking me to my ramp, I will instead change a gun and only move one step across to the floor due to the delay. Please change this.

Kill cams. Final kill cam at least. So many times I think I'm in the all clear and just get killed out of knowhere. It'd be nice to know how you died.

After you win the game, give 10 seconds of running around/ emote time to celebrate your win. It would be funny to see all the creative celebrations people would do after winning. Allowing building in this time would be cool too. I saw an idea to even pick an emote that will automatically play when you win. There should also be a "podium" shot almost of you and your squad doing a victory pose or whatever like in COD:WW2

There should be some challenges or achievements which give you awards. Even if its as simple as a different colour umbrella for amount of wins. Green – 5, Red – 10, Blue – 20, Purple – 50, Gold – 100. This” style=”width:100%; height:auto;”>

Bugs

The weapons not picking up glitch has been happening so much more recently. Not sure if something has changed but this needs to be fixed eventually.

I'm not sure if the sniper and shotgun glitches are real or not, but I have definitely had times with each which have made me think WTF after shooting through him. If this is a bug then it needs to be fixed.

Recently I had a glitch that so far I have not been able to recreate. It is a bit difficult to explain so I will give it a go. I was in a fort and I was looking at another guy in a fort about 100m away. I was moving back and forth on my ramp to pop my head out and take cover. It was either my wall or his wall that was a bit broken, but when I moved back and forth passed my wall, I would see a split second shadow/silhouette of his full body through the wall. Made it really easy to snipe him.

If you are switching to a bandage or shield and spamming R2 to use the item, sometimes a 'fake shot' comes from your gun. The gun sounds and feels like it just shot, giving away your position to enemies, but not actually firing the bullet.

Sometimes, when building, your building rotates to try to fit the terrain and then stays locked in that rotation. Can lead to annoying deaths.

Additions

I think the Fortnite combat system is seriously fucking fun. When I play, I often just jump to the most popular areas and run around killing as many people as I can, rather than actually trying to win. There should be some ways we can play this game without having to play a survival based game mode. I think that some form of either 1v1 duels, 2v2 or 4v4 duo and squad battles that take place in various POI's of the map. This could be similair to a counter strike search and destroy type mode, or even a straight out deathmatch. Some people argue "this is a battle royale survival game, dont try to change it". That argument is silly IMO. Why limit the enjoyment we can have with this great unique combat system and force us into one game mode. With 40 million players atm I think that there would be no issues with "stealing" some of the player base to these other game modes. If they were to create some of these game modes, it would ensure so much more longevity to the game. I'm not sure how long I will be able to continue just with the battle royale mode for a year or so.

Similar to the last point, I think that the ability to create custom matches would be a very solid addition to this game. First off, there needs to be a sandbox/practice mode to practice building and to an extent shooting. It should just be a small portion of the loading island with some resources, guns and target dummies. Being able to create a private match with 1 mate just to test certain things out would be really beneficial, and it would also be fun as fuck to be able to 1v1 your friends.

For limited time game modes, I think that a Snipers/pistols or snipers/shottys game mode would be an enjoyable addition. I saw a good idea of having it as a 'Wild West' type mode with only snipers, revolvers and pump shotties.

Edit:

More things on the list

Duos on OCE all the time! Having duos only online from 4-11:30 is seriously shit. After 11:30 all of squads is just duos that cant play anymore cause the servers have shut. I get that Epic wouldn't want to restrict their players from playing with each other, but how often do you have 4 people who can play at the same time not during peak times? I think duos should always be available as it is much more competitive.

Although I love the new map so far, I feel like we might have just gotten too many POI's. I used to think that the east side had maybe 1 too many, but now the west side has probably more POI's than the east. I feel like it just spreads out the population base too thin for there to be exciting games from all of the players. An idea might be to have rotating POI's so they can make the most out of the POI and the models, but reduce the amount lf drop locations for players.

If there is anything you feel that I have missed or should be added, let me know and I will add them on.