#I’m so tired of the hypocrisy and the fact it’s all about ego

[androgynealienfemme]

I’m sorry but this is soooo fucking funny. You are American. Tu eres un americano blanquito. What are YOU doing to resist your states violence? Why aren’t YOU blowing up military personnel or the pipelines being built on indigenous land? Where is your direct action regarding Hawai’i or Puerto Rico? What have you done to support the Gullah Geechee people in the Carolina’s and Georgia who’s land rights are being removed? Or is it that you think you aren’t REALLY a descendant of settler colonialists like the Israelis?

And I want to be clear, this post isn’t about not supporting the Palestinian struggle (May Palestinians be free in our lifetime), this post is about how absolutely irritating the hypocrisy of white Christian descendant Americans are when it comes to colonialism. It’s so easy to point your fingers at some other community across the world you see as colonialists and go “LEAVE LEAVE YOU ARE WORTHY OF NO SYMPATHY WHEN VIOLENCE IS DONE AGAINST YOU AND ALSO WHY ARENT YOU FIGHTING HARDER” while sitting in your own home, your own colonial state, and doing absolutely NOTHING of what you expect the others to do. You are a hypocrite. You are not helping. You are not an activist, you’re only doing this to feed your own ego and to appease your inner guilt about the fact that you yourself are a colonialist descendant continuing to profit off of the colonial state your ancestors helped build. You aren’t actually helping Palestinians. And you are not actually doing anything to end the colonialism occurring on your own soil. Worse than useless.

[stopthebig3]

To the Sakura stans who ship sasusaku and narusaku in my mentions liking my anti hinata posts, (and being too lazy or incapable of making such posts themselves) know that Sakura is also a useless and selfish character that Kishimoto despises..

Kishimoto wrote her as selfish. She never cared about Sasuke as a person, she doesn’t even know who he is. She only knows he’s hot. Her crying every five seconds doesn’t mean she cares about him, it means she cares about herself. Both of her confessions were about herself.

The fact you guys can see Hinata is useless and selfish but can’t see the same with Sakura, despite the fact it’s underlined in the manga over and over again, only shows that you overlook things in characters you relate to. Sakura doesn’t even make a good self-insert considering everytime she makes a confession, she is brutally rejected, by both boys.

This is Sakura uselessly moping over the fact Sasuke didn’t care about her getting stabbed. You know, instead of focusing on the task at hand like a good shinobi would, she focuses on the fact a guy that never showed interest in her still doesn’t. Her whole attack before getting stabbed wasn’t based on any well thoughtout plan but was solely fueled by her selfish need to satisfy her own ego as we see in her inner thoughts just before.

Here she had another moment of realization that she isn’t that important to Sasuke. But she still pushes on because self respect is not something she has.

And here is yet another moment in which she realizes she isn’t that significant to Sasuke. But since she is stubborn and refuses to take no for an answer, she gets all angry and starts to scream her selfish confession, despite it’s not even relevant to the situation. I mean look at her, I remember someone said she looks like she is getting ready to fight lol. And then she gives her self pitying confession that some people think is love. Sad.

This was how Naruto was acting after Sasuke almost butchered Sakura. He wasn’t approving and was telling Sasuke not to do it, but he wasn’t that angry either.

Or here, after Sasuke put Sakura in a murder genjutsu. “Hey that’s not nice” but overall doesn’t care much. When will you Sakura stans realize Kishimoto doesn’t care about her nor has any respect for her? Even when Sakura confessed to him, Naruto wasn’t heartbroken. Sakura is just a tool to Kishimoto, and he is well aware both Sasuke and Naruto deserve better than Sakura any day. He even implied twice that Sasuke never kisses Sakura.

You people simply sacrificed all reading comprehension, standards and logic at the pink altar of a subpar female character. Hopefully you people are at least young so there’s some room to grow. Sorry if this feels like an attack, but I’m tired of seeing Sakura stans liking my Hinata posts and Hinata stans liking my Sakura posts when both characters have the same bad traits and are constantly being trolled by Kishimoto. It’s hypocrisy.

But I see this person reblogs Sasuke Retsuden stuff so it’s not like she cares what the actual author of Naruto thinks. Wonder if she has even read the manga. Fanfic written by someone completely different is much better I guess.

[anti-catradora-receipts]

I really, really hate the scene in "Heart, Part 1" in which Catra abandons Adora. It's pretty much a culmination of all my issues with Catradora as a whole. Adora is at her most vulnerable, she needs someone to have her back, she NEEDS a friend to support her, because she's scared and she's tired and she still has to do so much. What does Catra do? She leaves. And when Adora stops and confronts her about it, she verbally abuses Adora. Why? (Part 1)

(Part 2) Because, once again, Catra couldn't handle the fact that not everything in Adora's life revolved around her. And then she has the nerve to guilt-trip Adora for wanting to save everybody, Catra included. from Horde Prime. When Catra herself KNEW what Horde Prime was capable of. But no. Tearing Adora down and almost destroying her emotionally one more time for her own ego was more important than the literal fate of the universe.

Dear @justmenoworries,

Firstly, I just want to talk about your statement here:

“And then she has the nerve to guilt-trip Adora for wanting to save everybody, Catra included.”

In my opinion, you’ve highlighted a really big problem with the writing. I feel that the writers were trying to convey this idea that Adora should value herself and not always be self-sacrificing. But I feel the idea is not presented well in S5. I feel like Adora is somewhat punished for risking her life to save people in S5 and this should not have happened. Adora’s choice was selfless and heroic. And so I feel there were better ways to demonstrate Adora being less self-sacrificing and to indicate that Adora values herself. 

...

Secondly, it’s really funny that you brought up your frustration with the  scene where Catra leaves Adora in “Failsafe” (S5E11) and the scene where Catra confesses her love for Adora in “Heart Part 1” (S5E12) because I have literally been thinking about these two scenes!

There’s a lot going on in these 2 scenes so I’ll do my best to break them down accordingly. 

1) Scene 1

Starting with Part 1 of Scene 1:

Part 1: Firstly, this part relates to a previous scene where Catra overhears Shadow Weaver comment on Catra being “a distraction”:

...

Part 1:  So this part indicates that Shadow Weaver’s words affected Catra and influenced Catra’s decision to leave Adora. 

Part 2: This part demonstrates how Catra does want what’s best for Adora. Catra wants Adora to be happy and Catra wants Adora to put herself first. 

Part 3: However, this part demonstrates that Catra still doesn’t understand that Adora’s choice isn’t because Adora wants to sacrifice her life, rather, Adora is making a choice to save everyone. There is a lot of hypocrisy in this scene, since the very reason Catra is alive is due to the fact that Adora made a choice to risk her own life to save Catra even after Catra tried to murder Adora multiple times during the series. 

Part 4:  Even though the statement “I don’t have to stay and watch it happen” has a meaning of “I don’t want to watch you die”, the words hold a harshness and the final facial expression is anger. Catra is angry with Adora because Adora is taking a risk that might kill her. But I feel like anger is not the right sentiment here. Adora is scared and making a hard decision to put her life on the line in order to save everyone. Adora needs support and Adora needs love.  

Part 5: I feel like this part highlights 3 key points:

- Catra was leaving more because of her own self-dislike and self-doubt rather than just leaving Adora purely out of spite. In this situation, I feel that Shadow Weaver’s words are still affecting Catra. 

- Catra doesn’t listen to Adora or trust Adora. Adora is literally on her knees begging for Catra to stay and stating “I need you”. But Catra doesn’t believe what Adora is saying, even though Adora risked everything in order to rescue Catra from Horde Prime.

- Catra doesn’t stay to support Adora when Adora is scared. Even though, at the very beginning of season 5, Catra was scared and asked Adora to stay. And Adora listened to Catra, sympathized with her, and stayed to support Catra even though Catra tried to kill Adora multiple times throughout the show:

...

The main takeaway from this part is that Catra has not processed her trauma related to Shadow Weaver enough to the point where Catra can trust and listen to Adora. And I don’t expect Catra to have processed her trauma! Processing trauma is difficult and takes time. But I just want to present the fact that Catra still needs time to process her trauma because it’s clearly interfering with her relationship with Adora. 

In addition, trust and communication are the most basic components of any friendship/relationship, so the fact that Catra’s and Adora’s relationship lacks these key components is very problematic.

2) Scene 2 

Now, Scene 2 presents Catra at her most vulnerable, which is indicated by her confession of love for Adora. In addition, Catra’s reasoning for leaving Adora completely changes from Scene 1, which will be demonstrated in the next 3 parts:

...

Part 1: This part shows that Catra still thinks that Adora is choosing Shadow Weaver over her. This is false. Adora’s choices are to help save everyone and Adora previously explained that to her:

Next,

Part 2: This part demonstrates again that Catra doesn’t trust or listen to Adora. Adora literally said “Please stay” and “I need you” in the previous scene (Scene 1).

Part 3: This part further supports that Catra is focused on her wants and her needs. Adora is literally about to sacrifice her life to save everyone and Catra is concerned that Adora doesn’t reciprocate her feelings. 

And so there is a stark disconnect between Scene 1 and Scene 2 about Catra’s reasoning for leaving Adora. In Scene 1, Catra leaves because she feels that she is not helpful to Adora ( Adora: “I need you.”, Catra: “No, you don’t. You never have.”) . However, in Scene 2, Catra justifies her choice for leaving Adora by blaming Adora for choosing Shadow Weaver ( Catra: “I told you, I’m not going back. You saw what happened. Adora chose Shadow Weaver, okay? Not me! ) . 

So the fact that when Catra is alone and at her most vulnerable, Catra automatically shifts to blaming Adora is actually terrifying. In addition, Catra still does not understand that Adora’s choice to work with Shadow Weaver is a choice to save everyone. And this happened before when Catra was upset that “Adora left her”, but really Adora had left the Horde in order to protect innocent citizens from dying. Catra still doesn’t see the bigger picture of why Adora is making these choices that lead to the ultimate outcome of saving everyone.

Overall, the 2 scenes demonstrate that Catra doesn’t trust or listen to Adora. And Catra still doesn’t understand Adora’s choice to save everyone. 

Thus, the 2 scenes are very indicative of the amount of growth and healing Catra still needs to experience before she can enter any romantic relationship.

Thank you again for sharing your frustrations with these scenes and I hope I explained the scenes well! ✨

[jbbuckybarnes]

We need to talk...

I knew that this topic of interactions will come up again, because it has never been talked all the way through, so I had this drafted for a while. So much of this old draft still resonated with this permanently unfinished discussion that I just had to edit it and post it, because I feel like it has to be said and put into one post. We can’t keep starting this conversation and then make it so dramatic that there is no conclusion or compromise. The only reason this time is more mellow is because people have better standards for this stuff due to a pandemic going on. This is written for the MCU fandom, but I’ve seen this go down in different fandoms, so here we go:

Things that are NOT at fault for readers not interacting:

The Readers. Should be clear after asking them again and again. And nothing changing. The readers at large are not at fault for a couple people being demanding or hateful. Neither are they at fault for this website and other social medias automatically putting writers at a disadvantage. They do their best with the time they have in their life (just like writers). And after asking them over months to try and reblog more and not much changing, it should be obvious that it isn’t where the problem lies. At least not 95% of it. NOW:

Things that ARE at fault for readers not interacting:

Pushing them, thinking they owe you stuff, while you tear other writers down saying that nobody owes them stuff. That happens time and time again. To me, to friends, to writers I check in with. Don't expect community to come to you when you don't come to them.

Not putting anon asks off when demands and hate get too much. It’s literally THAT easy when people get nasty. It’s sad for the nice anons, but they will understand. Save your mental health! Save the mental health of people reading that hate on their dash. I don’t know how many people constantly answering to hate I have unfollowed and I’m sure people have unfollowed me for doing the same.

Ego and hypocrisy. You can't say numbers aren't a problem and then say they are. In the same post. AND then also deny it later in some of the cases we’ve seen in recent months. Yes, that happened. In several fandoms where this topic comes up semi-regularly. And that might also be the reason people are tired of this stuff and speak out against it.

The fact Tumblr is only used approximately twice a year by most people. And has a shitty tag system. And a shitty algorithm. You are at an automatic disadvantage.

The fact some of you can't understand that 3-5% of your following interacting is a good and normal rate on pretty much all social media. The bigger you get in followers, the bigger the gap gets between followers and interaction (and demand and hate). There are literal statistics on that. 1% interaction at 10k is still good for a platform you have no power over!

The fact some of the people here call anons *haters* for pointing out that you interact w the same 10 people, making that speace seem excluding, when it's literally true what those people say!? Nothing wrong with only support the same 10 people on your blog, but then don't say that you practice what you preach (cause you don’t). You can’t demand more interaction when you don’t interact more yourself. That is how it works, for anyone, not just people of a certain follower count. If I reblog more fics, my blog gets more clout. Logical conclusion. Works for everyone. You have no time for that? Then don’t expect more back. It’s called SOCIAL media for a damn reason.

Telling people asking for Tumblr advice to interact more to make new friends but being the most defensive/indifferent person once they talk to you in DMs. Yes, that keeps happening and I know it from either my own experience or from others sharing their experiences with me. It’s kinda sad. It’s more of a minor factor in people not interacting, but I’ve seen it enough to mention it.

Making shitposts and personal posts all day and then saying you don't have the time in your life to interact w peoples' writings. Like, drabbles exist on almost anyone's masterlist. 5 minute read, easy support for a writer that might be losing motivation. Not every work has to be written like a novel to be great as hell or “quality proven.”

Oh, and there hasn't been a MCU movie in a while, making most of our readership probably currently not care about the fandom as much. Especially after Endgame ended up being a total opinion splitter.

Bonus: The misunderstanding that pushing shy readers to interact does the exact opposite. Not to start about the fact that we are in the middle of a pandemic at the moment. That means they may not have time to read and you may not have time to write. Normal. Logical. The same reason lots of people currently don’t publish. Don’t expect anything predictable and controlable out of current times.

Bonus: Check how you connect interactions to self worth and worth/fun of your writing hobby. Define what success means for you in this space, otherwise you will never be satisfied. It won’t matter if a post has 1k reblogs, you’ll always want more, because you chase an infinite metric.

Bonus: Maybe take a month to concentrate on community, getting outside of your bubble that you deny but very likely have (I’m not excluding myself from this), and actually improve interactions. Some people seem to have forgotten that when you interact with other writers, they probably interact back. Surprise! Your followers already know your tried and true fanfic friends, they want some new stuff without searching for it. Basic Marketing knowledge, know what your audience wants. If you do this for the interactions you gotta look at it from a marketing standpoint and not a pure passion standpoint. Oh: And maybe they find you interacting in the notes of someone else’s post and become an active follower. Win-Win-Win situation.

Bonus: Community is a loop, a net of interactions. Some people here have clique behavior, sound defensive and/or simply don't practice what they preach. That is not me or anyone else hating on specific blogs (I’m also no complete exception), it’s people trying to tell you that you can’t ask for shit you don’t practice yourself. Nothing wrong with supporting your friends only, but then don’t go around expecting new people to find your stuff. It’s literally THAT simple. You can’t have both!

Bonus: Ignoring some of the ride or die readers that are already there. Some of the people on here wish they had that and it’s deadass taken it for granted by some. Meanwhile I'm sitting here with Serotonin levels like christmas when someone I know reblogs my stuff and my fic gets some clout. Imma repeat myself: If you do it for the numbers, you gotta look at it more like marketing and less like pure passion.

And again: You are on a social media platform that will always put you at a disatvantage. That is not the readers' fault. It's how social media works at this point. If you want as much interaction as you can without putting in more interaction work yourself, simply share your works on here, AO3 and Wattpad simultaneously. Problem solved.

Bottomline: If you want more love on your work you gotta go beyond what you currently do, since it’s clearly not working for you. Reblog stuff from people you don't know. I don't give a sh*t if it's a 5k or a 100 follower blog. Hell, there is the whole 366 reblog challenge and some of you deadass went on reblogging the same people when that’s not really what this was made for. I, personally, haven't run out of new people to reblog, so this shouldn't be hard. Actually take time to talk to people in DM's, it takes 10 minutes in the evening to write a few people a message asking how they are or sending a cute gif. If you want stuff, you have to give it. Not leave it. People have come to me before, telling me "the community doesn't owe you stuff", no, they don't, but they do owe if they wanna be owed something back or even demand to be owed something back. Community is about back and forth. You give, you get. It's work, cause it's a big hobby. If you don't have time, that's cool, but then don't be sad about lower interaction. It’s logical that low activity from you leads to low activity from others in the long run, unless you do something worldshakingly new. You don't wanna look beyond a circle of friends or your go-to writers much? That's fine, but don't be upset about barely new people interacting cause they feel excluded or simply don’t find your work because of the same people seeing the same people reblogging the same works. What's not fine is not seeing how readers are NOT THE PROBLEM.

I haven’t talked to a single person about this that DIDN’T find the posts surrounding it demanding and completely ignoring the arguments some others had...repeatedly. Every single time it came up. Not just once but time and time again, whenever this topic comes up. You want interaction? Interact. You don’t want hate? Don’t give it a platform. As harsh as that sounds, I’ve never felt better on this platform since I put anon asks off, even when I miss the nice anons. They probably understand. PS: Again, this was written a while ago and edited to fit into a more general context now. I hope people can discuss this in a civil, non-judgmental way, because that is how I tried to write this. This is not again a specific person or group, it’s pinpointing what I see repeating for two years on this platform now, in all corners. I’d also like to mention that we are still in a pandemic and lives have never looked so vastly different, so you can’t demand anything normal in this very not normal time. Even if you do it all right, your interactions dropped in the pandemic cause people likely stay away form this platform for mental health reasons. There is so many layers to look at, these clearly aren’t all, but I hope it makes some people think about what and when they complain. Numbers will never satisfy you, they will always leave you wanting more if you don’t know why you do what you do and for what. Anyway: Be nice to each other and me in the notes in case this gets shared! No drama please! Ignore any grammar and typo mistakes, lol. Love ya!

[whumpiary]

Darktimeline!AU continues. As ever, written in collaboration with the incredible @untilthepainstarts.

content warnings: referenced murder, referenced noncon touch, alcohol, mild violence, briefly referenced victim blaming

-

It took a lot for Cassius Bergen to feel unsettled. Usually he was fazed by so very little, an I’m-rubber-you’re-glue kind of guy, attitude loose and languid in a way that made it adaptable to any incoming occurrence, good or bad. There wasn’t any use in the feeling of being perturbed to a man who had already laughed outright in the face of the perverse, from twisted colleagues to the character that had raised him. 

But when Viklund-Reid turned up on the doorstep of the estate this evening, bloodied and half-wild, Cassius may have felt the slightest twinge of it. No small amount of satisfaction as well of course, at seeing the gaping cracks in the man’s usually impenetrable self control—he had been wondering just how much pressure that nice guy facade could withstand before it popped, and mild-mannered house mouse Lev fell away to reveal Lev Alexander Viklund-Reid, criminal mastermind.

As it turns out, all it took was a single loose end.

"I think I killed Jacob St. Clair."

Standing in the doorway to the sitting room in his nightrobe and slippers, Cassius’ mouth drops open. He shuts it just as fast, but it doesn’t seem like Lev had noticed at all. If anything, the man seemed wrapped up in himself, eyes staring into middle distance, hands rubbing up along the outsides of his arms.

"Wait, you think you did, or you did did? Because—”

"I did," Lev restates. "He's definitely dead. And if he wasn't then… he is now."

It’s then that Cassius’ eye picks up the things he didn’t before. It's a warm November night outside and Lev isn't wearing his usual jacket, but rather a comparatively thin dress shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. It's torn a few inches in at the collar, the top buttons popped off  to reveal the delicate golden necklace he always wears underneath. A trail—a spray—of blood sits across his face, from his cheek to the inside corner of his eye. And on his knuckles. And in his hair, in tiny little spots.

Cassius realises that he’s grinning. It feels sharp in his mouth. “Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah.” Lev’s hand reaches up to play with the gold chain. His eyes remain unfocused, staring somewhere between Cassius’ chaise and his china cabinet.

“Jesus Christ. So I guess we’re not going with ‘take him down quietly’?”

“Apparently not.”

Blowing air out through his cheeks, Cassius shakes his head. Leans in the doorway, He’s not that mad, not really. 

Though Lev could have asked if he wanted a piece first, selfish bastard. A bit rich considering it all. If Cassius had known he was going to up and off the guy—

“Just say it,” Lev says, eyes flicking up to meet his in a tired sort of challenge. “We both know you’re going to.”

Cassius smirks and crosses his arms, “Let’s not rush it, Bergen. There’s no satisfaction in a quick kill, Bergen. Let’s savour the take down, rot him from the inside out…”

Lev’s eyes flick away from him, dark and blazing, as though he hadn’t just asked to be served what he was given. As if he didn’t deserve a little mocking for his hypocrisy. 

“I know.”

Cassius shrugs like it doesn’t bother him, and really what is there to be all that bothered about? If St Clair was dead, he was dead. Not much they could do to wind back time now. 

“So what happened, then?”

Lev eyes flick up and then away again, find the same middle distance he’s been staring into all night. His hand comes up, knuckles rubbing against the bare of his neck, just above the necklace. He could just be rubbing at the dried blood there. Cassius would bet half his house that he isn’t.

“What happened, Viklund-Reid?” he says again, a tiny tug back to earth. “Come on. You stole my kill, I deserve the story at least.”

“He called my guy yesterday, begging me for help with James and whatever takeover that little fuck is itching to pull the trigger on now, asking for a meeting. At first I thought about just telling him I had no wish to be caught up in that, shut it down, but… I figured it could be a chance at information. And frankly it was weird that he reached out to me directly, and at the moment James is being a right prick with my deals up north. So I went.”

Cassius nods along like the story is new to him, all while a sense of déjà-vu creeps slowly in. “But he didn’t want to talk about that at all?”

Smiling self-deprecatingly, Lev shakes his head. “He wanted to talk about me. Said I had done really well so far, better than he’d expected, but it was time to face the facts: that I’d never be what Martin was, that I’m not designed for this kind of life… whatever, you get the idea. But then when I made to leave, he stopped me. Physically. And I just—you don’t just do that, but he did—warned him too, said if he kept going like that, he’d have known if he’d just listened to me, I wouldn’t have had to, to, to—he just kept pushing, and pushing and then—” 

The disjointed stream of a sentence ends in a laugh, tightly wound. Lev’s shoulders have drawn in, his jaw clenched, and he’s speaking at the wall as if it had been the one who’d wronged him, his initial audience all but forgotten in the room.

Cassius raises an eyebrow. He hasn’t seen him angry like this. Anxious like this. “Viklund-Reid?”

“—Wonder why no one likes you, fucker, sticking your nose into other people’s business, putting your hands where they don’t belong—”

“Viklund-Reid.”

“—Put down that fucking ego for twelve seconds—”

“Lev.”

“What.”

When he’s sure he finally has Lev’s attention, Cassius moves his eyes down to the knife that had appeared in his business partner’s hand and back up again, pointedly. It’s enough to make the man pause and take stock of what had seemingly been an unconscious fiddling, smoothly flicking it open and shut in rapid repetition. 

It’s not the knife that bothers Cassius particularly. Lord knows he’s seen it enough. It’s the way he was holding it, fiddling with it. The specific grip to the handle. Unconscious maybe, all of it. But careful. Practiced. With intent. The same way a cat settled back and locked its gaze before striking prey. The same way a sharpshooter fiddled with a gun.

Lev clears his throat, before slipping the knife into his pocket. “I, uh. I’m gonna use your bathroom.” He pushes up off the arm of the sofa and starts walking away, but not before Cassius can cut him off at the pass.

“No you’re not. Kitchen’s closer. Has booze,” Cassius adds, before heading off in that direction, not waiting to check if Lev is following, and definitely not moving anywhere within striking distance. As much as he didn’t need Lev falling apart in his sitting room, he also didn’t particularly need a stab wound either. 

Cassius steps into the kitchen and goes directly to the sink, turning on the water and letting it run before heading to the pantry and straight to the liquor.

“Is this a champagne or vodka sort of occasion?” he calls over his shoulder.

“Vodka,” comes the mumbled call from the sink. “Definitely fucking vodka.”

By the time he comes back, near-full bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other, Lev is sitting on the kitchen bench, frowning at his knuckles, rubbing at them absently with a piece of blood-pink paper towel.

“You look rattled,” Cassius says mildly. 

“I am rattled.”

Cassius snorts a laugh and Lev looks up at him with something a little too tired to be a glare. “What?”

He shrugs. “Nothing. Just didn’t think I’d be spending my night talking through baby’s first murder.”

“Not my first,” Lev mutters with a scoff. “Jesus, of course not my first. Just first like this. First where I… lost control.”

Cassius frowns barely and looks Lev over, eyes narrowing in curiosity while the other man’s gaze is diverted. He’d always kind of thought… well he’d assumed how it must’ve gone down with Martin. But apparently he was going to have to ask for that story one day too.

He offers out the vodka, leaves the glasses on the bench behind him. “Drink.”

Lev takes a generous swig and returns the bottle to the bench, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Did he try that with you?”

Taking his time ripping a bit of paper towel from the roll, folding it into a square, using it to dab away the little streak of blood on Lev’s face, Cassius ponders his answer. Decides to let the other do the work. “Try what?”

Lev’s lips press together in a thin line. “If I’d known, I’d have taken care of it from the start. Or at least… wouldn’t have told you to wait.”

The image of St. Clair flashes up in front of Cassius' eyes—furious, yes, but from the other side of the table over lunch. Looking like he’d wanted to leap over it and strangle him, but hadn’t in the end. Just called him the usual—little Bergen whore—and left.

“No, he didn’t. Just ran his mouth.”

Lev’s face falls slightly, as if that wasn’t the answer he’d wanted. He leans backward, eyes narrowed, calculating.

“Sorry, did I just relieve you of some preconceptions?” Cassius says drily, feeling annoyance stir somewhere underneath the surface. He had no right. “Or did he need to have groped me a little for me to be able to be mad about it?”

“That’s not—”

“Because if I recall, I wanted the fucker gone months ago and you kept telling me it wasn’t smart. So now I’m just trying to figure out where the double standard fits into all of this, or whether I now get to present my own TED talk on self-control.”

“If he had kept his hands off of me—”

“You think I haven’t had people put their hands on me?” Cassius spits. Lev looks away. Cassius burns. “How is it that when I do this shit it’s stupid and impulsive and—”

“It is stupid and impulsive.”

“And when you do it, it’s what? Righteous?”

Bringing his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose, Lev heaves a sigh. “Shut it, Bergen. Shut up.”

“Or what? Your cleaner’s going to be hitting up my place later too?”

Lev moves his hand away, looks like he’s about to bite back a response, before he pauses. Blinks, hand hovering in the air. Mouth open, then shut, and the tension fizzles slightly in the room as he flounders.

For the second time that night, Cassius feels a shark-like smile creep across his face as he puts two and two together. “Oh, you’re kidding. You’re kidding,” he says through bared teeth, tone dangerously low.

Dark eyes lock with his as Lev looks at him. “I fucked up. I know I fucked up.”

Cassius’ annoyance shifts gears right into anger, revving hot at the half-admission. “Say the fucking words, Lev,” he challenges, incredulous.

When the only response he gets from the man in front of him is a sheepish look and a phone pulled out of his pocket, Cassius scoffs, grabs the vodka on the bench. He’s furious, can only hold it in for long enough to take a swig straight from the bottle, and for Lev to start dialing.

“So. Just so I’ve got all of this perfectly fucking clear. You murder a guy, right, guy you told me specifically not to. Then you get in your car. Drive forty minutes here. Come into my house—”

“I know, alright?”

“—And you haven’t called your fucking cleaner yet?”

“Don’t yell at me Bergen,” Lev warns, frowning.

Laughing, Cassius gestures at him with the bottle—how dare he? Keeps his voice at the same level, because fuck this. “I’ll talk to you how I damn well please. You are in my house. You are putting my arse on the line here.”

“I’m getting it sorted,” he says with a pointed glare, phone to ear. 

Cassius laughs again, eyes wide and furious. “Cutting it kind of close, don’t you think?”

Lev swears under breath as the phone clearly hits voicemail, starts to redial. 

“Perfect,” Cassius scoffs, taking another swig. “Fucking perfect.”

“I’ll handle it.”

“You have the fucking murder weapon sitting on my bench, Lev,” he says, swinging his arms wide. “Are you trying to get this pinned on me?”

“I said, I’ll handle it.”

Cassius doesn’t let up. “Is this what you get off on is it? Getting friends in high places dragged down to low ones?”

“Of course not.” Lev spits, real fire in his eyes.

“Well fuck knows you don’t seem to be getting off on anything else.”

Lev’s feet hit the floor as he surges forward, and the next thing Cassius knows are two hands curled in his shirt and his back hitting the wall, vodka splashing up out of the glass neck on impact. He opens his mouth to command Lev away, but hesitates on the thought of meeting the business end of that knife—he’s already right on him, and could likely pull and engage it in a split-second, before he could even name him and finish the words. 

Cassius searches the eyes of the man pinning him to the wall and for the first time since their meeting, Cassius is certain Lev Viklund-Reid could kill him.

So when Lev rushes forward all at once, Cassius can’t help the gasp that leaves him. He’d almost be embarrassed by the shocked sound of it if the noise wasn’t stolen from his lips in half a second by Lev’s own.

Lev kisses him hard. Hungry and desperate. Like he’s trying to tell him something words aren’t enough for. Cassius feels like he’s stuck a beat behind just trying to decipher it. And then just as he starts to melt forward into it, just as he brings his hands up to touch, Lev’s gone again, the weight of his body disappearing as completely as if he’d turned to smoke while Cassius’ eyes were closed.

“What-” Cassius blinks his eyes open, hand almost reaching for a man who isn’t there anymore.

Lev’s standing a few feet away, wide-eyed and halfway horrified. “Shit, I’m so sorry. You- I’m- I’m an idiot. ”

“No, it’s-” Cassius brings his hand up and back to his lips, silences himself, stops the words that want to come out. The kiss still feels trapped there, just beneath his fingertips. “It’s fine.”

“Shit,” Lev repeats. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Lev, just-” come back here. Do that again. “Calm down, a sec.”

“Jesus, I- I’m losing it,” Lev says, and alright well that stings just a little. Cassius keeps his place on the wall, tucks his hands behind his back and presses them flat against the plaster.

“I’m fucked.” And there’s that mad laugh again. A torn out, twisted thing that hardly suits him but still seems to fit. “I’ve fucked this.”

“Lev…”

“No, I’m-“ he makes a pained expression, like shame and apology all wrapped up in one scrunch of the nose. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have come here, I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking-“

“Probably that you need an alibi,” Cassius says evenly, shrugging a shoulder as he pushes forward, risks a step or two closer. “I’m a good one. And the staff all love you. They’d vouch for you even if I don’t threaten them.”

He doesn’t get too close—who’d approach a wild animal with its hackles still raised? But still makes himself available. Approachable. He could be the lantern in the distance if the man needed it, but he knew it wasn’t wise to press, even after Lev had initiated. Maybe especially so.

This time when Lev crashes forward, head landing heavy against Cassius’ chest, Cassius manages to catch his gasp before it betrays him.  The aftershock runs through him like a thrill and settles alongside his heart, pounding like a bass drum right beneath where Lev’s head is pressed. He wonders if Lev can hear it. If he does, he doesn’t mention. Cassius, in turn, doesn’t mention the way Lev is shaking.

"St. Clair was right. I'm too… too…"

Unbidden, Cassius brings his hand up, resting it gingerly on the back of Lev’s head, bottle of vodka still hanging from the fingers of his other hand. “Shut your mouth.”

It falls quiet around them. Between them. The echo of the sink dripping, the sound of the clock from the hall, Lev’s breathing as he steadies himself. That’s all. Cassius keeps expecting Viklund-Reid to shove him off. For the feeling of a blade pressed to his gut. It never comes.

It feels strange, dangerous even, holding a man who barely an hour before had killed another for daring to do less. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t feel good as well. And that’s wrong, maybe, after the night that Lev’s had. To enjoy holding him like this. To feel soothed by it.

Cassius closes his eyes ever so briefly. Maybe he’s the one who’s fucked. Oh well.

"Look,” Lev says, after a minute or two. “I know we're probably even now, but just in case... if you tell anyone about this, I'll gut you. And all that."

Cassius blinks and laughs, feeling the sound reverberate along his own ribcage and out through Lev’s back. “Sure. As long as you call your cleaner up after.”

And he has no idea where the fuck the impulse comes from, even less so why he listens to it, but he turns his head, presses a kiss to Lev’s hair. 

Both men tense. Breath caught. Moment frozen.

Lev pulls back to look at him, expression indecipherable, and Cassius opens his mouth to say something – I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that, please don’t stab me – he’s not sure what, and then Lev’s phone rings. Like a spell’s been broken, they both flinch away. 

“That’s my-”

“Yeah.”

The air feels electrically charged and all at once Cassius can’t figure out how to hold himself in the room, ends up pressed back against the wall where Lev had left him a few minutes earlier as Lev walks from the room, phone pressed to his ear.

“Winters. Sorry to bother you this late—yeah, it’s alright. Would you mind crunching some numbers for me?”

Cassius tips his head back against the wall and exhales through his teeth, blowing his cheeks out, fingers tapping against the plaster.

It took a lot to get him unsettled. And this wasn’t that, he wasn’t unsettled exactly but he was… something.

He closes his eyes, takes another swig and wipes his mouth clean with a rough hand. Shakes his head at nobody but himself. This is stupid. Three hundred and sixty degrees of stupid. Dangerous. That’s what it is.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. 

When exactly had he developed a crush on a mobster? On the untouchable, inimitable Lev Viklund-Reid?

He lets out a laugh, wild and bubbling, hopes that Lev can’t hear it from the other room.

Oh, Jesus. Alrighty then. So. He’s fucked.

[msgrumpygills]

what made the colored rose glasses come off?

i can say that mine too came off a while ago and i cant believe how blind i was and i blame his fans because i remember how i was defending him even with all that shit he pulled i thought he needed protection and needed to be treated with so much care and he was big cute baby i was part of the people who got his back no matter what but he is not stopping and the amount of money he and his wife keep asking from the fans and the fans give with love is just too much for me am glad you got out i just cant wait for the others to wake up too

and speaking of walker i too hope it flopped because of his ego and his spn Easter eggs and dean sam parallels its just not fair you cant have it all dean died for sam to live even before he died in the end and jared still trying to make money of it just no!!

This is a really good question, so thank you for asking! I’m glad you got out too! It’s kinda liberating! This will probably get really long because I ramble a lot, so I apologize in advance! 

I’m not entirely sure there was a specific incident or one thing that happened that made me stop and thing, it was sort of a culmination of a few things. Firstly, I sort of lost interest in the show because I was getting tired of the fan service. I know that sounds a little silly because I was a fan, but the whole pandering to the shippers and the bad writing and for lack of a better word, ridiculous storylines, it got to be too much. I stopped getting excited to watch the show. Now that kinda happened naturally in a way because I fell behind a few weeks, but it wasn’t like when I was a hardcore fan, and I’d be waiting to catch up, I just kinda lost the push I guess? Then seeing the storylines and things, I just didn’t think “Oh wow, I really need to get caught up!” because nothing really sounded that interesting. I didn’t care about the Jack storyline, I was tired of the Dean/Cas fan baiting, all of that. I was only interested in Scoobynatural and then the episode where John comes back because I wanted to see Jeffrey Dean Morgan. 

So I was kinda disillusioned a bit about the show. I was also getting really tired of Misha’s political tweeting and his hypocrisy. I believe that was what led me to an anti blog? I can’t really remember how, but I stumbled upon an anti blog and I started reading through and realized that there was a lot going on behind the scenes that I wasn’t really a fan of. So all of these things were kind of stacking on top of the next, and I started to take those glasses off. So it wasn’t really one specific thing, it was many. 

But now I’m at this point where I’m really opening my eyes and realizing how bad things have always been, and I turned a blind eye. I was the same way as you were, needing to protect Jared the big fragile baby, standing up for everything they did. I was going through my timehop and saw some tweets defending Jared’s relentless bullying of Justin Bieber, his insensitive comments of PSH, things like that. It was embarrassing because I was only standing strong with him because I was in so deep as a fan. I mean, I never really agreed with his doxxing of random employees, but I would sort of turn a blind eye to that and just ignore it. Now I realize how stupid that was. 

I’m not saying that I regret being a fan because I don’t. I had a lot of memories, I loved the conventions (not the prices or the Creation company, but that could be an entire different post) and some of the fans were great. I still consider myself a fan of Supernatural and a fan of Jensen and Jared (but he’s pushing it), but I’m not a super fan anymore. I’m at that point where I can recognize when they screw up and can call out things that aren’t okay. I think a lot of fans are still stuck in that illusion that these guys can do no wrong, and it’s sad, but I’m sure they’ll come around at some point. I’m not saying that no one can enjoy the show or the actors or whatever, but at least call them out on their bull and don’t blindly defend everything just because it’s your fave. 

I will say that all celebrities sell things to their fans, and that’s just part of the celebrity/fan relationship. Everyone has merch, everyone does charity fundraisers, etc. What I started to get a little wary of, was everyone jumping on the Represent bandwagon and milking AKF and YANA for every single penny. The first run of AKF was great and I think it started a conversation within the fandom, and everywhere really which is great. I mean, to a point, the second and third runs were cool because I know a lot of people missed out on the first run, etc. And you can bet your bottom dollar that I bought most of the shirts released. But then Misha had to get his grimy paws in the pot and make YANA, using Jensen in the mix too. Is it great to raise money for charity? Yes. Is it cool to do that while making fans happy? Sure. What I got tired of was them milking the same thing for more money. It seemed to lose its authenticity when they kept milking it and making new things if that makes sense. 

But look at Misha and Stands; they milk EVERYTHING they possibly can to get money out of the fans. It really disappointed me that Jared moved AKF to Stands because Stands is a trash company as it is. 

The fans are paychecks to these people, and while that’s just a fact of life, they don’t need to make it so blatant. I thought Gen was bad for shilling products left and right, but Jared is getting just as bad. He’s using Jensen, his family, and Supernatural to try and shill his show and his crappy supplements. 

I haven’t watched Walker, but I’ve seen the failed attempt at trying to capture that Supernatural lightning in a bottle and that reeeeeeally rubbed me the wrong way. I’ve mentioned it before, but he’s basically taking a show that took 15 years to build its fanbase, the family, everything, and trying to do that same thing with a concept that seemed better on paper. 

I think Jared got cocky and figured that the success of Supernatural would follow him into anything he touches, and he’s quickly realizing that it’s not gonna happen. So what does he do? He rides on Supernatural’s coattails to try and bring traffic to these things. The Easter eggs aren’t “for the family”, they’re to try and get viewership up for his show that no one seems to care about as much as he expected. The forced “brotherhood” with Keegan is him just trying to recreate the J2 brotherhood for more attention and more views. After all, part of the magic of Supernatural was the boys, Sam and Dean. Jared’s having to start from scratch and trying to have the same magic and fandom that Supernatural took 15 years to grow, but right away. That’s his biggest problem. 

If anything, I hope it flops because it’s really embarrassing and a bit insulting for Jared to just move onto the next “ship” and the next “family” like Jensen was nothing. It makes the “brotherhood” and the “SPN Family” seem so fake it’s unreal. I also hope it flops so he can get a reality check and a hearty slice of humble pie because Lord knows he needs it. 

[bittervitter]

ang0mang0′s “copycat” claims

I didn’t want to have to make another post about this, but since people on sonicfan799 / thatAnge / @ang0mang0′s Tumblr profile are getting riled up about this ridiculous drama that should have died ages ago, I figured I’d defend myself. Some people who are trying to support me have been saying incorrect things too, so I also wanted to clear that up. This crap has been going on for months, everyone is sick of it by now. Instead of being brief like I did for other social medias, I’ll be as detailed as possible this time.

[1] “she’s copying/imitating/heavily referencing from my art style!!!”

Like people have said a million times, no I’m not. And nor is anyone else. Just because someone draws the Sonic characters in a similar style to you does not automatically mean they took, copied or “stole” those ideas from you. You don’t own the concept of buff, fluffy bodies or chubby muzzles. COINCIDENCE, as much as you hopelessly deny it, is very much a possible thing- even in crazy situations such as this. There are several other artists who have similar art styles by mere coincidence. IT IS NOT IMPOSSIBLE. As examples, these Instagram artists have similar styles: @ azulytoons and @ indigonite0 / @ magenta_mel and @ zer0finix / @ himemikal and @ natirix. NONE of these artists are “stealing” or referencing from each other- they just have similar art styles, and that is perfectly okay! They draw completely different things with completely different mindsets. The world does not revolve around you, ang0. Not everyone knows who you are, so some people who use the same traits that we do don’t even know we exist.

Also, to anyone unaware, an art STYLE is not merely how one chooses to portray a character. An art STYLE is also what brushes you use, how you sketch, how you line, how you colour, how you shade, how you choose to portray certain objects or ideas- basically your entire fucking understanding of how something’s supposed to look and how you LIKE it to look. It’s not just “chubby faces, poofy curly hair, buff bodies”. It’s everything in a piece AND that.

[2] “she’s tracing my art/ redrawing my ideas!”

Literally no. People have constantly asked you to provide evidence and you refused to. All you did was scream “but it’s so obvious, just look at it!” or “are you dumb? use your eyes!” and several other insults. If you want to prove a point or make someone see something, GIVE. EVIDENCE. The only person who actually provided “proof” was pin_kpeach, your ever so loyal whiteknight, but her “proof” only backfired and proved that the both of you are extremely delusional. In the drawings of ours that she layered over each other, next to NONE of the lines lined up. It looked like a clustered mess of scrap, and the reason for that is because IT WASN’T TRACED. In the one or two drawings where ONE. SINGLE. PIECE. actually lined up was entirely zoomed in to make it seem as though the whole thing was traced. No, honey, that’s not how you provide proof. That’s how you pull a muscle by reaching so desperately to lie about me. The rest of the drawings in those pictures didn’t line up at all, and one- or I believe both- needed to be titled to line them up in the first place. You could say that some people trace things and resize or rotate them, but if I were as dumb as you persist to say, then I wouldn’t have done something like that. Either way, one aspect of a drawing lining up is a common thing for people who have similar styles because- well, I just said it. THEY HAVE SIMILAR STYLES. If they draw something the same way, well fucking duh, it’ll match someone else’s drawing almost exactly sometimes.

[3] “she’s too petty and too much of a liar to credit me! saying the art isn’t hers will hurt her oversized ego!”

Ahaha no. The only one here with an inflated ego is you, ang0. You call me the egotistical one yet you act as though your life is falling apart just because someone else draws like you on the internet. Stop acting like a special snowflake, you are not the only one on this planet with an art style of that nature. I don’t credit you because crediting you makes no damn sense. Why should I credit someone who’s had absolutely no impact on my work whatsoever? What in the hell did you do for my drawings that makes you deserve so much credit? Did you sketch it? No. Did you line it? Nope. Did you colour or shade it? Not a chance. Just because I came up with a design for the characters that happens to look like yours does not mean I owe you jack shit. You cannot. own. a style. Get over it.

[4] “she worsened my depression and is the reason I can’t draw anymore! I have no motivation when there’s some idiot copycat stealing all my art!”

I don’t want to sound like that kind of person, but you worsened your own depression. You painted this false picture in your head and continue to hang onto that belief like your life depends on it. I haven’t done ANYthing to you. You came to ME with these stupid claims back when my art looked LESS like yours, before I even knew who you were. You’re making yourself feel horrible because you, for some paranormal reason, refuse to believe that you’re not the only one with that kind of style. This is why people call you childish, you’re like a whiny baby that can’t accept another child having a toy similar to yours. I can’t even decide whether I should say “grow up” because you’re older than me- not to mention you’re an ADULT.

[5]”she constantly sends her whiteknights to attack me, harass me and send me threatening messages!”

I’ve said several times to my followers NOT to harass you or your followers or anyone against me in this mess at all. I do not send anyone after you. People say things to you out of their own free will and with their own words. I can’t magically know when this happens, why they decide to and I especially can’t control anyone. I’m sorry that my friend Koro sent you all those DMs and horrible messages wishing a lot of very bad things onto you and your family- I asked her several times before and after not to do that, but I didn’t have a clue she did it until after the fact. Either way, don’t go around assuming that I put people up to this or I intentionally ask people to do these things to you. Why in the hell would I do that? What good does that do? All I wanted to do was talk things out but at this point, you don’t even take me seriously, so I can’t even try anymore. The few times we did talk you refuse to see my point of view and just see me as a liar. What the hell am I supposed to do then?

[6]”all vio does is lie, she’s so fake all the time, lying for her petty ego”

I’m not even sure how to respond to this but I thought I might as well bring it up. No matter what I do or say, ang0 sees me as nothing but some retarded liar that can’t help but lie their way around everything, even though I’ve been nothing but genuine all this time. It’s why I can’t even communicate with her anymore, because “shut up, stop lying you copycat” is all I get in response basically.

[7] her insane hypocrisy

Ange and pin_kpeach have said numerous times that I’m rude or insult her, and there have been times where I’ve been mean out of anger, but I know for a fact I apologized for it in DMs. Ange apologized too. I don’t remember ever insulting her after that, but ang0 doesn’t ever stop ridiculing and insulting me with almost every comment she makes on the drama. If she really was sorry, she wouldn’t have done it again, but I guess she said “fuck it” and just continued anyway. Pin_kpeach likes to say I’M the hypocrite for saying Ange is harassing me yet being rude to her a couple times, yet they do they exact same thing, but even worse?? I try my best to be as civil as possible, but ang0 and pink don’t waste a second calling me and my supporters all sorts of colourful names just because they don’t agree with her claims. In fact, here’s a list of every single thing ang0’s ever called me:

retarded, retard, stupid, idiot, dumb, low IQ, mentally ill, crazy, talentless, skill-less, copycat, art thief, (dumb) cow, fuckhole, asshole, bitch, wanna-be artist, unreasonable, clown, fake, liar, hypocrite, delusional, dick, stalker, bittershitter, dumbass, immature

There’s probably more than that, but that’s as much as I can remember. Not hard to forget when she repeats them almost all the time.

[8] gatekeeping ideas

Ange and pink act as if two people drawing a character in the same outfit automatically equals “du bist kopying mein style!!”. I can’t even begin to imagine the mental gymnastics you need to do in order to believe a thought process like that is logical. She thinks that anyone who draws Amy in a dress with a white under-skirt or white ruffles underneath is nothing but a copied idea from her. She thinks that me drawing Amy in a green tank top, blue backwards cap and blue sports shorts is copying her drawing of Amy in a green unidentifiable top (you could only see her back, she didn’t seem to have straps) and blue sports shorts with a slightly different design is automatically copied from her. The poses, shading, angle and idea behind the drawing were COMPLETELY different- but nonono, “this is stolen because the outfit is the same!” They also use the excuse of the whole chubby faces, curly hair, blah blah blah- see point [1] as to why that’s BS.

[9] her perception of my followers/supporters

Aside from Koro, I don’t know if anyone has seriously threatened or harassed her. Her followers comment on my posts, my followers only comment when she brings up the drama or whines about it. She insults my supporters when they don’t agree with her and act like they’re a bunch of immature brats who are wrong while she’s the high and mighty mature one seeing through non-existent lies. I’m used to her making fun of me, but I’m sick and tired of her insulting people who have nothing to do with the drama just because they don’t agree with her. Like, seriously? You call everyone immature and stupid yet you’re the one insulting people non-stop just because they realize how ridiculous and childish you’re acting. That’s why “childish” has become a popular adjective for you, ang0. BECAUSE YOU’RE BEING CHILDISH. CONSTANTLY. You get pissy, insult others and put people down but whine and cry the next minute because you constantly like to play the victim. Speaking of which...

[10] the victim card

I have absolutely no idea what ang0 goes through in real life, but there is no excuse for how she’s behaved during this drama AT ALL. Ange constantly defames her own artwork, calling it shit, calling it every bad name in the book, but doesn’t hesitate for a minute to gatekeep her style as if it was the best thing in the world. She says it’s because she “worked her ass off” and doesn’t want people just stealing her hard work. Okay, but you do realize that other people put just as much work into their own art, no matter if it looks like yours or not, right? She demands that people change their style to stop looking like hers, acting as if that can be done in a matter of minutes, because people having similar styles makes her uncomfortable. Well, surprise motherfucker- welcome to the internet. No one is original and everyone is original at the same time. People are bound to come up with similar ideas and you’re just going to have to deal with it. But despite the similarities, people are still original in their own right. If you believe that people can change a style so easily, why not just change your OWN style? Because you worked your ass off? Well, THEY WORKED THEIR ASS OFF TOO. So don’t act like you’re the only one who’s put effort into their craft. Art is hard, and that applies to EVERYONE- even professionals.

You blame me and other “copycats” for all your problems, blaming us for worsening your depression, ruining your passion for art- when you’re the only one who does this to yourself. Yes, there have been genuine art thieves in your life, and people who have stolen your art- but what I’m talking about are the people like me who DON’T steal your art or are merely inspired by you. People who say “you should be happy they’re inspired!” aren’t saying “you should be happy they’re copying!”. They’re saying that you should be glad that your work is so inspiring that people create their own unique ideas based off your own. Inspiration doesn’t require credit unless they’re purposefully taking a massive part of the original. But being inspired by a hair style or even a pose isn’t stealing. It’s inspiration, that’s it. I’m not inspired by you at all, but I can at least appreciate your art- even if you think I’m just being fake.

[11] ang0mang0′s history and why this shit doesn’t even make sense

Ange has said publicly and to me in detail about how she’s been accused of the same “art style theft” in the past. From what I’ve gathered or heard, people used to accuse her of copying a popular artist called myly14 who’s Sonic art is pretty much everywhere. Whether it be in edits, MVs or whatever else.  Looking at her old art when she went under the name sonicfan799, her art does look similar to myly’s, but ang0 insisted that she didn’t copy myly and didn’t even know who she was. She legit said “it’s not my fault my art looks like someone else’s”, so basically- it was coincidence. She said she changed her art style because she “isn’t an asshole and didn’t want to make the other artist uncomfortable”, even though art style theft isn’t a thing and no one needs to be forced out of a style just because someone else already draws that way. I have no idea what myly’s stance on that situation was, but the fact that it happened just proves how stupid her current claims are.

Ange says that her style is “too complex” to be coincidentally similar to someone else’s, even though the fact that it’s happened 30 times (according to her) just proves that no, ang0, no it fucking isn’t. Your style isn’t complicated at all. Detailed sure, but no style is too complicated to be similar to another’s. Being complex doesn’t make something any less likely to be identical to another complex style.If you didn’t copy myly14 in the past, what right do you have to accuse me of the same damn thing? If I really am copying you, then you have to admit to copying myly, because you can’t just lie about your past and then shit on me for doing the same thing. So it’s either you stop this nonsense or you drag this drama down with you to your grave and admit you copied myly14.

Another thing, myly14 didn’t even have a “simple” style. The fact that her art was almost instantly recognizable and popular meant that she had a signature style that stood out. Yes, she used a lot of the original Sonic style’s anatomy, but her stylization of said anatomy, her shading and the way she composed her pieces gave her a signature style. The most stylized thing I could see was how she drew muzzles, and guess who drew muzzles in a similar way as well? You did. People saw how your way of drawing faces and some parts of the body and thought it looked liked myly’s. The similarities in your anatomy, and not your shading or colouring, was what made people think you copied her. That exact same thing is happening between me and you. My shading, colouring and composition is entirely different from yours, but some parts of the anatomy are similar.

If you really didn’t copy myly14, you have absolutely no. fucking. excuse. to accuse me of the EXACT. SAME. SHIT. that happened to you.

You never needed or deserved to be pressured out of your old style just because people thought it looked similar to someone else’s, and that’s why I refuse to change my style now. Because it isn’t. fucking. fair. To ANYONE.

[12] how I feel (this is copied over from my DeviantART)

At this point I've grown used to what she has to say, but it still hurts. She thinks that I'm some kind of cartoon villain maniacally laughing behind a computer screen every time I post something because she's so deep into her belief that I really copy everything she draws and that nothing I've never posted has any true effort put into it. She genuinely believes she owns all my art and that I devote my entire gallery into recreating her image or some crazy shit like that. It sounds really dumb, but from what I've read from her poorly constructed comments and rants, that's basically what she believes.

She thinks I don't care at all about how all this affects her or anyone at all, but I do. It doesn't just hurt me in the sense that she makes me feel awful with all her insults, but I just feel so bad for her. I feel guilty in the sense that I couldn't do anything at all to help her, not that "shes prolly feeling guilty and made that april fools joke to let out some guilt!!". (If you don’t know, on April Fools Day, I changed my Instagram bio to say “clown” and call myself “the ultimate copycat” as a joke.) That was a really stupid reaction from her by the way... who the hell comes up with that? Now that she's going away for a month, I feel even worse because all I wanted to do was try to make her come to her senses and end this mess. I thought I could talk some sense into her- that didn't work. Her delusions are so strong, she's like a brick wall. I thought I could ignore the drama- that didn't work. She "clowns" and talks about it so annoyingly often. Not to mention people do things on their own to stir shit up. I thought I could support her regardless and maybe try making her feel better about her art- that didn't work. She thinks I'm fake and that everything I say is a lie. Because of me, she probably doesn't believe other people too- and that makes me feel even more terrible.

No matter what I do, I'm automatically the villain and she's the tortured, helpless artist that everyone is against because "everyone is dumb, supporting a copycat" and she's just "used to it, because she's dealt with so much shit already!". It's so ridiculous. If she would just try to actually better herself or the situation, she wouldn't feel so horrible all the time. Like... for god's sake, she relied on a video game to make her happy- that's not healthy, and just like I suspected, it didn't fucking work.

more of how I feel

Because of ang0, I just feel like garbage. My self esteem and confidence in my art was already low. Thanks to her, I don’t feel original (or as original) anymore- and I’m afraid to show many of my new or old ideas because she or her whiteknight pin_kpeach may spring out and say “copycat! stolen! you’re not original!” and a plethora of other insults. I can barely sketch or draw Sonic content without panicking and feeling worthless because all I have is her words and her opinions stuck in my head. She blames me for her demotivation and shit like that when she’s done the same thing to me. She thinks I don’t care about her or her art, when I do, but when I say that, she calls me fake. In reality, ang0 couldn’t give a damn about me and I’m pretty sure she’d be happy if I were dead. She has said before that she doesn’t care if I killed myself soo... there’s that. Anyway lemme not drag my feelings out too long, I just thought I’d say it to anyone willing to listen since her immediate response would’ve been “fake, liar” etc, etc. I really don’t want anyone to feel bad for me or anything like that, I just want people to listen and understand. That’s all.

a final note

I’m really thankful- like, REALLY thankful- for everyone who’s been on my side throughout this. I don’t like picking sides, and I’d hate to make people do so, but there doesn’t seem to be any in between to this at all. It’s either you believe I’m copying her or you don’t.  Most people don’t- thank goodness for that- but some do. And there’s nothing I can do about it. At this point, whatever man.

Please please PLEASE do not harass ang0. Don’t threaten her, don’t insult her, don’t do anything rash or fucking illegal. It’s all fair game if you want to POLITELY SPEAK to her, or try to start a discussion, but please don’t do anything stupid. And especially don’t do things in my name. If you want to debate with me or her, do research first- don’t just jump to conclusions or make assumptions.If you want nothing to do with this drama, then simply don’t say anything- just be aware of what’s going on, that’s all I ask. So nobody gets the wrong idea on either side.

Sorry for this being so long, I think I’m done for now.

Thank you if you read the whole thing.

[9.4.2020]

[anhed-nia]

STILL NOT BLOGTOBER EVEN THOUGH I ONLY GOT ONE LEFT FER CRYIN’ OUT LOUD: CAM (2018)

I've been chewing on this for a couple of days, and I think I just have to resign myself to the fact that it's ok for me to fire off some immediate reactions, and then come back later on when I'm feeling more smarterer.

I really liked this a lot, even though there is no good reason why that should be. On paper, it hits my every "off" switch. Movies about sexy girls being sexy? Usually bad. Movies about the internet? Usually bad. And I even realized for the first time, going into CAM, that I usually dislike movies about doppelgängers. Even when they're decent, they're typically predicated on a predictable Ego versus Id concept that is as pretentious as it is transparent. These movies, in which someone's life is imperiled by a superior and corrupt other-self, often have the same problems as time travel stories--which I also hate--which hinge on a bunch of obvious "twists", and logistical acrobatics that don't even work very well. So all that said, I'm very grateful for the well-earned word of mouth that CAM has generated, because without it, I never would have rushed out to see a movie about a chick who is professionally hot, using the internet, and being threatened by an even more seductive version of herself. Sometimes it is wonderful to be wrong.

In CAM, the appealing and somewhat uncanny Madeline Brewer plays Alice, a cam girl who discovers that her feed has been taken over by a separate version of herself who is exponentially more successful than she had ever been before, despite her fiercest efforts. Alice launches a down-the-rabbit-hole investigation into who or what this twin could possibly be, ending with a horrific genre-bending discovery that will require all of her wits to confront. The less said about the details the better, as the movie is much more than the sum of its parts.

What sounds like a pandering, uncinematic proposal is made into a stylish, absorbing, relentlessly tense thriller by director Daniel Goldhaber and his creative partner, co-director and first time screenwriter Isa Mazzei. Mazzei, a cam girl herself, has taken the tired old id monster trope of the doppelgänger, and used it to stage a sober argument about the conflict between public success and personal boundaries. Alice's career seems to remain middling in part because of her insistence on standards of personal dignity; she refuses to deliver fake orgasms or fake "I love yous" during her performances, maintaining a sense of authenticity without giving away any more of herself than she chooses. Alice's double, Lola_Lola, is not constructed as a dangerous femme fatale whose self-indulgence throws Alice's polite hypocrisy into relief--which is usually what happens in this kind of tale--but rather as a distillation of Alice's ambition as a performer. Lola has no private life to protect, and needs only public adulation to survive, so she shatters all of Alice's rules in order to succeed on a level that no other cam girl can touch. Alice's war with her public self says a lot about everything from competitive feminine pageantry, to the average citizen's use of social media, and Goldhaber and Mazzei's intelligence and sincerity prevent CAM from sinking to the level of a PSA on self-esteem and internet addiction--which it could have easily become.

One of my favorite parts of CAM is the most contentious. At the very end, once Alice has vanquished her counterpart, she creates a brand new account with her old host site, starting her career over from scratch. A lot of viewers have seen this as an unjustifiable "Don't go back for the cat!" moment, but I find it very gratifying. Earlier this year, I saw a movie called CONCUSSION about a stifled suburban mom who starts a new chapter as a lesbian escort. She's good at it, as it turns out, and it boosts her self-confidence, helping her identify and nurture strengths that she didn't know she had. But, of course, because very few movies can resist the gravitational pull back toward status quo, she clunkily makes her way back toward monogamous civilian life. A lot of movies about unique individuals have this problem--even GHOST WORLD, which I adore, pulls the suspicious trick of making us fall in love with Enid's eccentricities, before concluding that the very things that make her so special are actually symptoms of her stuntedness, that she will have to be cured of in order to mature. It makes me think of John Waters' childhood memories of watching his favorite movie, THE WIZARD OF OZ, and crying hysterically because of Dorothy's incomprehensible choice to return to Kansas, "to that awful black-and-white farm, with that aunt who was dressed badly, with smelly farm animals around, when she could live with winged monkeys and magic shoes and gay lions. I didn't get it." Many movies seem to obey a basic mandate to return everything to normal--perhaps to reassure audiences that our mundane existence is still worth something?--and I am happy to report that CAM is not one of these movies. Actually, it is critical that CAM allows Alice to continue her career as a sex worker. Otherwise, we wind up with the insulting, moralizing conclusion that Alice's big mistake was owning and enjoying her own sexuality, and that the lesson here is that she should retreat to some quiet, humble existence in which she isn't "asking for it". Maybe her decision to start over is a little confusing, emotionally, but morally, it is the right thing to do.

[4birds-of-a-feather]

Chapter 26 - Man, it doesn’t show signs of stoppin’ [part 3]

Birds Of a Feather

(In the previous chapters: Layla’s stuck at SeaTac and gives a call to WC Boyfriend who, once more, confirms to be the shittiest boyfriend ever; in the meantime, Sara has reunited with her long-lost cat and an acquaintance of her family, but it wasn’t all peaches and dandelions. WARNING: the other super-short update – we know that we had promised you to update sooner, but we were busy with our job, studies and festivities – just in time to wish you a fantastic 2018!)

Sara walked upstairs back to the loft, frantically rummaging in her shoulder bag to find the apartment keys. When she arrived on the landing, she jumped. “Fuck, mr. California! You scared the shit out of me!” the girl angrily shouted, almost dropping her headphones “The fuck are you doin’ out here???” The singer was in fact sitting on the floor, next to the front door – notebook and pen in his lap. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he quickly grabbed the objects and hid them behind his back “It’s just that I went for a walk but forgot my keys on the table, and Jeff’s gone to a party, so…” “No problem: Layla left me hers” she made the keys clink under Eddie’s nose, so the singer smiled and stood up while she made the lock spring open. When they went inside, Sara stopped in the hallway to hang her coat, scarf and bonnet, while Eddie was looking at her, scratching his nape. “Weren’t… weren’t you supposed to spend this day with your family?” he finally asked, almost startling her. The girl gulped, rubbed her blubber eyes and put on a rather convincing cheerful voice, trying not to let him notice her real attitude. “Oh, yes, it’s just-I went to my parents’ house and I noticed that my mom’s relatives from Portland were there too… They’re annoying and know-it-all and kind of churchy too… <Why in hell did I mention Portland? Fuckin’ A, Fancini! Congrats!> … So I just drew the attention of my dad, without making the others notice me, and I explained him that I couldn’t tolerate ‘em, so he agreed and made up some persuasive excuse too… I guess my mum will understand, even if they’re her siblings and shit like that” she ended her monologue and finished to hang all her things, while Eddie was still looking at her. “So… this means you survived” he gave her a warm smile and she did the same. “Yeah, I guess so… Man, I fuckin’ hate these festivities! Hypocrisy flows in torrents” “Don’t tell me… The fuckin’ triumph of bleeding hearts, ugh” the singer soon joined her in that anti-Christmas rant and the two of them quickly ended bursting into laughter. “Glad to see another cynical and black soul around here – the world is too full of retarded Santa’s little helpers” “Man, I hate those lil’ fuckers!” Eddie laughed again, then his eye fell upon a packet full of ribbons that was under the Christmas tree – Sara’s gaze followed his own one. “Oh, you noticed Layla’s work of art…” “… How the fuck does she know that yesterday was my birthday?!” he finally exclaimed, making the girl look at him in disbelief. “Wait a minute: yesterday was your birthday?!” “… SHIT” “Why the fuck didn’t you tell us, Eddie??? You really are grown up in the woods, for fuck’s sake!” Sara scolded him, her eyes plopping out of her head. “I don’t know… I just didn’t want to bother, that’s all” he shrugged, not knowing what else to say. “… you really are weird” the girl sighed, shaking her head “Anyway, that’s your Christmas present… Layla always remembers this kind of things so, in your shoes, I wouldn’t be bothered…” “Didn’t she buy you anything?” Ed asked her, noticing that his pack was the only one under the Christmas tree. “Who do you think you’re talkin’ to??? Of course she bought me something, I’m her fuckin’ best friend!” she gave him a little slap in the nape “But I’ve already hidden it… ya know, with that animal of Ament that freely scampers in this loft, you’ll never know what he could do to my wealth” The guy laughed again “I think I’ll take the risk – I’ll leave mine here” “As you wish, mr. California – I won’t be the one who’s gonna stop you… don’t say I didn’t warn ya” He nodded and started to go in his room’s direction, then stopped and looked at her. “I guess I’m goin’ in my room to listen to some records… Wanna join me?” Sara winced a little, but quickly regained her usual aplomb. “Yeah, why not?” she shrugged “Just gimme a minute and I’ll come” “Ok, great – I’ll leave the door open, no need to knock” The girl nodded and made her way to the bathroom, while he stood in the hallway a few other seconds; when he saw the ringlets at the end of her ponytail disappear, he finally went in his bedroom.  

<Nothing happened – you’re perfectly capable to have a natural conversation without embarrassing yourself… you’re gonna fuckin’ own this, you’ll see> Sara splashed her face, then looked at her tired reflection in the mirror: she could still spot some glitter but decided that her cheeks had already been rubbed enough – oh, and her face was the embodiment of misery. <I’m gonna be fuckin’ owned, ugh – this motivational bullshit is pathetic> She took a deep breath and made her way to Ed’s room, stopping just outside: Quadrophenia had just started playing when she peeped out from the doorjamb. “Am I still welcome?” Eddie raised his eyes from the books he was browsing and gave her a smile. “Always – come in!” he went to close the door and gestured for her to find a place to sit; she decided to take a seat on the floor, near the bookshelf where he was standing before. Soon after the guy approached her, waving something with a playful grin: “What did I tell you? Here, see for yourself” He handed her the infamous Polaroid he had taken with Joe Strummer and the girl sneered. “Since a month has almost passed, I thought you had made the whole story up…” she provoked him, without tearing her gaze from Strummer’s autograph at the bottom of the picture. “Yeah, in fact this photo is false as the fact that in 1977 I saw Springsteen and the E Street Band…” he casually added, going to sit next to her. “… you did what???” “… and I also saw The Who in 1979, when I was almost fifteen years old” “YOU LUCKY BASTARD!” Sara kicked him, making him laugh. “Why, are you telling me you never went to a concert?” Eddie mocked her with an evil smile. “Yeah, in fact Fleetwood Mac in 1980, Cat Stevens in 1976 or Led Zeppelin in 1977 were just hallucinations” “HOLY SHIT!” the guy exclaimed, surprised “Wait a minute, Cat Stevens in 1976? How old were-” “Eight years old, and he played divinely” she smiled again “Anyway, I won’t be jealous about you seeing The Who – Moon The Loon was already underground, I can tolerate it” “Shit, you were just a child! And Zeppelin at nine years old – I’m not surprised you turned out like this” Eddie spoke again, then laughed for her second statement. Soon after The Real Me began to play and Sara’s smile turned into a big grin. “The Ox is fuckin’ awesome here – I mean, I can totally say that he’s my favorite bass player without any doubt” “You love Quadrophenia too?” Eddie’s eyes lit up at the thought of a fellow fan of The Who. “Well, that’s not my favorite album made by them, but my second favorite song that they composed is here, so I guess I have to give it some credit” “Just spit out the title” “Love, Reign O’er Me, obviously” “I knew it – sooo, this means that your favorite album’s Tommy…” “Nope – Who’s Next” she gave him a mischievous grin “My favorite song is there, guess it!” The guy mentally listed the tracklist, then answered: “The Song Is Over, right?” “… you’re starting to impress me, ya know?” Sara mocked him, and he laughed. “Sooooo” after a while Ed cleared his throat “what are our plans for Christmas’ Eve?” “Well, since our beloved chef’s not here… I guess we’re fucked, mr. Surfin’ U.S.A.” “Nope, listen: food problem will be solved with pizza delivery… but what about after dinner?” “Why are you lookin’ at me as if I were the life and soul of all parties?!” “Hmm, maybe we could go out and drink somethin’…” he ignored her and went on with his suggestions. “… so then we would be surrounded by stupid people with their fuckin’ stupid Santa Claus hats or Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer antlers?! No, thank you!” “Or we could reach Jeff at the party he went to…” “You really want a Seattle remake of Silent Night, Deadly Night, don’t ya?” The guy laughed again, then raised his hands in order to declare himself innocent: “Oook, I get it! How about stayin’ at home and watchin’ some old movie provided by yours truly?” “Are you really makin’ me responsible for our pre-Christmas entertainment?” “C’mon, don’t be too modest! I liked Neighbors and I’m sure-” “Of course you liked it, I kept tellin’ you that you’re Belushi’s alter-ego!” Sara interrupted him, while he stuck his tongue out. “… I was telling ya that I liked Neighbors and I’m sure you’ll do a great job this evening too, that’s all” “… Whatevs” “Great! An Italian one, please” “What? Don’t tell me you’ve ever watched one of them!” “Yep, Miracle in Milan” “NO FUCKIN’ WAY!” the girl exclaimed, sincerely enthusiastic “D’ya know that its last scene inspired the E.T.’s one with the bicycles lifting into the air?” “Shit, that’s why I had a déjà vu when I first watched it!” “Sorry, I’ll stop immediately with my movie geek act – I know it’s weird, I just can’t help it” “No problem, I learnt something new” The girl gave him a grateful smile, then resumed her considerations:  “Hmm, so you watched somethin’ from Neorealism… What about Commedia all’Italiana? Err, I mean, Italian-style comedy?” she quickly corrected herself, while Ed smiled because of those few Italian words. “Yeah, why not? I mean, Neorealism is great, but I’d like somethin’ lighter” “Well, ‘lighter’ is not the word I’d use to describe I Mostri, but it’s an awesome example of how great satire could be” “I’m in your hands, I’m sure you won’t disappoint me” Eddie cracked another smile “Dubbed?” “In your fuckin’ dreams, Vedder! I’ve got the subtitled version, this is no place for heretics!” “Yeah, I thought so… I also bet that on March you showed off the Italian flag when Cinema Paradiso won the Academy Award, am I right?” “… you almost got it” was her embarrassed answer, while the guy laughed and stood up to put his notebook in a drawer. “That’s your holy Bible full of personal lyrics, huh?” she asked him, and he immediately turned to face her, as if he had just received a punch in the face “Because that’s what your songs are… Autobiographic, like a diary” Eddie didn’t say anything and lowered his head, and soon Sara was forced to interrupt that awkward silence. “I’m-I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to sound like a bitch but, well!, apparently that was the final result…” she wrung her hands “Man, I really suck with social interactions” “It’s ok, don’t worry” the guy finally opened his mouth again and went to sit on the floor, next to her. “Did all that stuff happen to you?” she asked, after a while. “Except for the incest, yeah… I have lacked for nothing” “… shit” she took a deep breath, trying to clear her thoughts “I’m-I’m so sorry, Ed” “Yeah, I know you really mean it” he said in a low voice, then brought his knees to the chest. “Would my humble singing your praises make you feel a little better?” “Why, did you really like the songs or are you just givin’ me a lump of sugar?” he abruptly raised his head and shot her a nasty glance. “Fuck, do I really look like a person who gives compliments away?!” she retorted, starting to get worked up. “Are we really assembling a conversation by using only questions?” he went on, finally being able to chuckle, while the girl soon followed him – she mentally thanked him for making both of them a bit more relaxed than before. “Anyway – yes, I really liked ‘em, I think you’re a worthy lyricist… At least, the few times I can understand what the fuck you’re singing” At those words the guy laughed heartily and gave her a playful push, to which she answered with another one, a bit stronger. “But yeah, jokes aside: we can totally say that I’m in presence of talent” she winked at him and he thanked her, a bit embarrassed but pleased all the same. When Eddie resumed to talk, I’m One was playing in the background. “Oh, I was almost forgetting to tell ya that I really like your voice” Sara immediately froze, then slowly turned in his direction. “I beg your pardon, what did you just say?” “I said that I like your voice… I heard you, you sing pretty well” “WHEN DID YOU HEAR ME?!” “Well, a few days ago, when we hung out at that bar and-” “Holy Marvin Gaye, I knew that the whole karaoke thing was a shitty idea!” she facepalmed. “… but I heard ya yesterday too, while you were taking a shower” “Fuckin’ A, Vedder! Since when are you overhearing me?!” the girl asked him, her eyes almost plopped out of her head. “Err, since when you’ve started to sing Elton John out loud…?” “That’s because I thought I was alone! I thought that nobody was at home, except me! And instead you were there, lurkin’ like a vulture!” At that last comparison the singer laughed out loud, making Sara even more irritated. “C’mon, don’t be offended! I just wonder why you’re freakin’ out like that!” he tried to ease the situation, given how she didn’t seem to relax. “Because I don’t want anyone to know it, genius! I don’t like it, it’s just a personal thing” “… a personal thing?” “Yeah, a promise I made to someone – someone really important, but that was just a thing between the two of us” “Hmmm, understood” he thought over something, then resumed to talk “My father… he sang too. I mean, that’s what other people told me – I met him a few times, as a family friend, but I didn’t talk to him that much… And then one day my mum took me aside and told me that who I thought was my father was actually my step-father, and that my real dad was ‘that man that once in a while came to visit us, you remember?’ but he had already died, and I-I didn’t know what the fuck I was supposed to do, or say, or think, or feel, and-” Eddie stopped talking and took a deep breath, probably in the attempt to not cry, but Sara had already noticed his eyes becoming bright with tears. “It’s ok, Eddie, you don’t have to talk about it” she carefully put a hand on his shoulder and softly squeezed it, while he let out a deep sigh. <Am I the first one to hear his story? Well, who cares! I mean, he trusted me and told me all these things –  maybe I should tell him about-> The girl’s thoughts were interrupted by the noise of a guitar’s sound box – Ed had grabbed the instrument and now was strumming it absent-mindedly, trying to tune it. “You play guitar?” “Yeah, a little bit… Well, playing is a huge word: let’s just say that I strum away on it” “Hmmm, I see” “You’re gonna make me listen to somethin’, right?” “What?!” she almost choked “Absolutely not – this is a categorical no!” “I’m sorry but I won’t accept refusals of any type” “… are you blackmailing me?” “Hmmm, maybe… you think I am?” “I think so, Alvin without the Chipmunks!” The guy laughed: “C’mon, just a song! It’s just the two of us – nobody will ever come to know this, I promise” Sara rolled her eyes, so Eddie went on: “Silence gives consent… fine, let’s do this!” He casually plucked some strings, then finally had a flash of inspiration and began to play. “I’m sure you know this one, I saw this album in your collection” “Great! Have you searched my bedroom too?!” she hysterically asked him, but he ignored her. “C’mon, be ready! Your turn is finally coming!” the guy played the last introductory chords and Sara finally began to sing, her eyes still rolling. “Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly… All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise…” Eddie smiled to himself and the two kept on performing the song; at a certain point he slowed down the fingerpicking and started to whistle, imitating the birds chirping, while the girl looked at him in a perplexed way – but then burst into laughter. “The hell are you doin’???” “C’mon, try it – be a blackbird too!” he suggested her, still laughing, and when she emulated him he smiled satisfied “See? That was easy” “… idiot” the girl laughed again, and resumed to sing the final lines: “You were only waiting for this moment to arise, you were only waiting for this moment to arise, you were only waiting for this moment to arise…” Eddie finished to play, then smiled at her. “Well, you did learn to fly… Congratulations on your voice” “You’re just a flatterer, but thanks” she blushed, then cleared her throat “Instead, congratulations on your guitar style! You don’t limit yourself in strummin’ away on it… you play it, Ed” “Nope, I’m not that good” “Have you ever considered the possibility of playin’ in the band? Like, for real” “In the band? A band with three guitars?” “Yeah, why not? Kind of a Lynyrd Skynyrd thing, ya know” “Well, I’m just the new guy – I don’t know if Mike and Stone would agree…” he shrugged “Plus, as I said before, I can’t seriously play it” “Hmmm, as you wish… But, in your shoes, I’d give it a try” “Who knows, maybe in the future? Like ten years from now, just gimme enough time to practice…” “Why, are you really believin’ that you guys are goin’ to last that long?!” she provoked him, and the guy laughed. “No, you’re right – but, in the meantime, I’d be really glad to make at least a duet with you at the karaoke” “No fuckin’ way, I’ll never set foot again on that goddamn place, sure as hell!” “Ok, as you wish… but, sooner or later, you will sing somethin’ with me” he pondered “Like a collaboration… I should seriously write somethin’ for two voices” “Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Vedder! This is a secret, I told ya once and I won’t tell you again: keep your mouth shut or there’ll be big troubles!” Eddie pretended to go along with her wishes and gave her a mischievous smile – then his gaze fell on something that was peeking from the pocket of her sweatshirt. “What’s that?” “Oh” the girl suddenly remembered its existence and pulled it out “Just a mixtape I was listening to before” “Can I?” he extended a hand and she gave it to him “Footprints like puddles – strange choice for a title… I like it” “It’s-err… It’s just a silly title, I wrote down random words” “It seems well put together to me…” Ed fumbled with its case and finally pulled out the tracklist. “It’s just a couple of songs for the days when I get the mean reds, nothing serious” “The… the mean reds?” he hadn’t even started to read through the track titles but stopped immediately “What’s that?” “Well… ever watched Breakfast at Tiffany’s?” the guy nodded and she went on “When Audrey Hepburn gets ‘em, she jumps in a cab and goes to Tiffany’s – and it calms her down, just like that” “Ok, now I get it – this right here is your personal Tiffany’s, right?” “It is” “Then it’s better if I don’t intrude” he quickly opened again the case and started to put away the tracklist, but her hand stopped him. “… Go on, I think you could appreciate it” He looked at her, a bit puzzled: “You sure?” “Yep – go on” The guy smiled and finally began to read it. “Let’s see… we’ve got Leonard Cohen – woah, Ella Fitzgerald! – Brian Eno and Tom Waits… you put The Boss too, awesome” “Yeah, Racing In The Street reminds me of the way I feel when I choose not to open my umbrella on rainy days” “I think he’d be honored to know it… well, you should totally lend this to me, there are a couple of songs in here that I don’t know and I’d like to hear ‘em” he stopped, scratching his nape a bit embarrassed “… of course, only if you feel ok with that” “Yeah – err, yeah, that’s fine… I don’t mind” “Great, thanks” “You’ll tell me what you think about it, ‘kay? And I also wanna know if you appreciated the ones you hadn’t heard before my magic tape came to your rescue” “… you just got yourself a deal” “That’s what I like to hear” Sara looked around, her gaze stopping on the surfboard in a corner, the big waves painted on some walls, the books and vinyls piled on the desk and shelves – a few were also scattered on the floor; she found out that the room really reflected Eddie’s soul – at least, for the little bits she knew about him. The girl also found herself really missing her old chamber, the one that was waiting for her in that godawful mess of her loft, with most of all her belongings stocked there and the furniture apparently put in a random way – when in reality it had been carefully arranged by her. Out of the corner of his eye Eddie clearly saw her sigh, so he quickly tried to introduce a new topic in order to offer her a little distraction. “Say… can you play some instrument?” Sara startled, a confused expression upon her face. “Who? Me?” the guy nodded and she went on “Nope – when I was a child I used to play the harmonica from time to time, but it was nothin’ serious” “Oh, I see – and you got a favorite instrument? One that you really enjoy listenin’ to, and maybe you’d also like to learn how to play?” “HA! Lemme surprise you: banjo, mandolin, kazoo – ya know, all those weird things” she listed, all proud  “Oh, and I love bass too… but don’t tell Ament, pretty please!” “Ahahaha, ok! Pinky swear” he laughed, then they entwined their little fingers and the deal was made “But yeah, really unusual choices… I was expecting something entirely different” “Like what?” “Like… I dunno – violin? Piano? Maybe the harp too… You strike me as someone who would enjoy these instruments a lot” “… I strike you as someone this ordinary? Wow, Ed – you really have a way with words” “Shit, I-I didn’t mean that, I just-” “Relax, I was just teasing you!” Sara let out a carefree laugh “I know that on the outside I may give this impression… and let’s not talk about this squeaky, little voice of mine – it’s obvious that you’d link it to a violin instead of a kazoo” The guy laughed and gave her a playful push, then resumed his observations: “See? That’s why a collaboration of the two of us would be so interesting – and stop it, your voice isn’t squeaky” “You’re the one who has to stop it, Ed! Erase this crazy idea of yours right now or-” “Or what? You’re gonna kick my ass? Punch my cute face with those small, childish hands? I don’t think so, Fancini” “VEDDER, YOU’RE SO GOING DOWN” she roared and threw a cushion at him that perfectly landed on his face. “Ouch! How can such a little person be this evil???” he grabbed another pillow and did the same with her. “You’re one to talk! Beware the mighty Big Foot!” “See?! Well, I’m going to expose you in my next song, which is gonna be this caustic piece about how one should never trust Italian girls with big, brown eyes because in reality they’re Satan’s daughters – and, the good news? I’m so gonna force you to sing some lines, the ones with the nastiest insults” he laughed again, avoiding a cushion “I can’t wait to hear your angelic voice singin’ something along the lines of ‘you’re a sewer rat decaying in a cesspool of pride’…” “Angelic my ass! Stop talking about me singin’, nobody has to fuckin’ know it!” Sara gave him a strong push that made him fell legs in the air, her irascibility growing as she heard him guffaw without restraint. “Ok, ok, nobody will ever know this thing! I swear!” he shouted breathlessly among his laughter. “… nobody will ever know what?” were the words that came out from Layla’s mouth, as she suddenly peeped out from the door.

[snarkingonfatlogic]

“This Post Cannot Be Reblogged”

Otherwise known as I’m a coward who can’t deal with disagreement. Otherwise known as I can’t defend my views against criticism so I will pretend that it doesn’t exist. Otherwise known as If this were a 12 step program you’d be in OA except that you wouldn’t be because that would require acknowledging that you overeat to the point of addiction.

You again? Didn’t you learn your lesson last time?

I’m sorry, did you think you won something? Did you think that you were such a shining paladin of fact acceptance that nobody could stand against you? Think again, princess — I have a life and I forgot that you existed, because you’re not important. But, hey, if you want to throw your oversized gauntlet at my feet...

This isn’t straw men, this is real.

Really? Really? You want other people to believe that this is real:

FAT Aceptancce is BAD bcause its NOT healthy to b faTtY!!! !! EVEYONe who is fat dies IMMEDIATELLY and have DIabeats!!. it is literley So dangerous to love urself!!!! Everyyone loose weight if they just Eet les$s and exorcisze !,!!!!!.!! this is soo slimple. Srlsly!! my uncles fat Got him diabetie and he is BAd now!!!,,

Even for an FA, you’re not exactly good at arguing your case, if this strawman is all you can come up. It’s not even a good strawman; it’s bad parody intended as agitprop theatre for an audience that barely fits in the seats, and just as believable.

This is the kind of response that fat acceptance gets all the time. 

Except that it’s not. Most people who respond to fat acceptance state that glorifying your slow suicide by doughnut is wrong, because it has exceptionally bad health and social implications, and they generally state that because your weight is totally within your control (which it is), you should work harder at minimizing that.

Now, me, on the other hand... I’m running a blog dedicated to snarking on the shitty logic you use to justify your fat, lazy, self-indulgent existence of excess and whining. Of course I’m not going to nice about it. That’s not really what we do here.

Have you ever looked at the notes for a post that dares to suggest fat people shouldn’t hate themselves?  I’m sure you have, since you run this useless hate blog.

BURN THE STRAWMAN! Nobody is saying that you should hate yourself, cupcake. People are just not letting your bullshit justifications and lies gt past their radar. Like all FAs, you spend your time creatively misrepresenting and lying, and most people don’t like that, funnily enough.

This same basic response shows up over and over again, you even disrespect your family/friends by referencing their illnesses to prove a moot point.

lolwut 

I’m pretty sure I’ve never referenced any family and friends here... Oh, wait! You’re using me as a handy surrogate for all your perceived grievances.

I’m simply pointing out that this response is tired. You all shout this at us all day, as if it’s some revolutionary idea, as if we haven’t heard it 10,000 times before and refuted the argument. My post is what you sound like to us.

If that’s how it sounds when people tell you to quit eating yourself to death because of the burden you place on everyone else, maybe you should make an appointment to have your ears syringed. See if you can get some weight loss advice from your doctor while you’re at it; maybe hearing Your weight is going to ruin your life, your family’s life, and eventually kill you for the hundredth time will finally cause it to penetrate past this thick layer of fat insulating the thick layer of bone insulating your tiny excuse for a brain.

As far as refutations... Ha. Insert Princess Bride memes here. Here’s a clue, lamb chop — refutation means that you proved an argument wrong, not that someone got fed up with your lying and gave up.

I honestly hesitate to be so hard on you. 

If you think this is being hard on someone, I pity you. You’re about as hard hitting as cotton wool. I was going to say cotton candy, but I thought you might try to eat the screen.

There’s likely something going on in your life that deserves sympathy if it causes you to spend your time this way. It’s beyond argumentative, and it’s obviously not productive(have you ever changed anyone’s mind?) 

Oooh! An ad hominem disguised as dime store armchair psychology in an attempt to discredit. 

Is it my turn yet? Because I could say that you have something going on in your life that causes you to pretend that you’re OK with being fat, being winded, that you enjoy the massive increase in the likelihood of preventable disease and early death. I could say that you have something going on where you know you’re too lazy, self-indulgent, and selfish to correct your problems, but you want to retain some vestige of the moral high ground, so you project and lie, and then lie some more, all while that tiny voice in your head is crying about how you don’t want to be fat anymore... And then you drown the voice in soda, or smother it with gravy, or bury it under an avalanche of cake.

I’d be willing to bet good money that my unqualified, bullshit diagnosis of you is closer to the truth than yours.

I’m a sarcastic, snarky person, and I enjoy puncturing the fragile ego bubbles of people who lie to themselves, especially when they are self-serving and try to get everyone else on board with their lies. That is what is going on in my life.

And please don’t tarnish the name of science by saying that’s what this is about.

See above. Science is merely the earth that allows my glorious sarcasm plants to take root, the mere dirt that anchors the vines of my snark until they burst into glorious flower.

I’ve seen you say that the only reason correlation ≠ causation doesn’t apply here is because you don’t see any other reason for it.That’s not science, that’s everything that science isn’t. It’s a claiming a truth without evidence. I was surprised you’d even admit that.

Except that you’re lying once again, but I don’t know what I expected... 

I’m not going to respond to any other comments you have on this, because I don’t have the energy, 

Maybe if you lost some weight you’d have more energy. 

nor do I want to continue to aid in what is probably just an unhealthy coping mechanism.

And there’s that pretend psychology again... Not to mention a massive, heaping pile of hypocrisy. Then again, you are a fat activist, so I don’t know what I expected...

[misstinapie]

Real Men does, Real Men don't (10.24.9)

Of my age not even close to an online friend of mine who is clearly a few of the people who I can say is not a waste of carbon dioxide and evolution (yes, let's admit that there are those who just consume resources and has attitudes and brains devoid of sense), I know for a fact I have no reason to write this blog without someone who'd say 'who are you to tell?'. You see I remember Chelsea from her show (Chelsea Lately) pass judgement on Miley's 'memoirs', saying the pop star is not even half her (Chelsea) age (and sexual experience as she pointed out) to even deserve a memoir. The point is, I'm noticeably not that old to write what I'm about to write, but I'm doing it anyway only because this IS after all my blog.

It all started at out with our late lunch at KFC which included me, Jin and Wilvic at the previous event of Komikon. What happened was this:

Jin: Real men does not listen to Taylor Swift.

Wilvic : Real men does not say they are real men to prove they are real men.

Obviously the answer to Jin's statement does not seem to make sense but I guess that is how Wilvic came back with and I knew I'm on his side (ok fine, I also listen to Swift) of the argument. And then it dawned to me. What a good post that is. I haven't read one yet. Not that I surf the web that much so there is a huge possibility one exists somewhere but it's still worth writing as far as I believe.  And this is the list I came up:

1. Real men can be cool without being (and looking like) a 'bad guy' It's probably the tv or the big screen but someone must have tipped off the male specie that by acting like they are bad guys they'd appeal to every single woman. Most losers (and I'm afraid to say) who happens to be of my age range are those who are posing to 'worship the devil', don the bad guy generic look, 'OWN' multiple women at a time and the likes. I even remember an officemate who said that he knew a guy who at night and at clubs poses like a tough guy (even admitting 'OF the devil') and when on one Sunday called him at his house, he was told that 'oh, he's at the church with his girlfriend'. Yeah right, poser.

2. Real men knows how say the word sorry Okay. This one I've personally experienced. I know this guy who has wronged me so many times that when at some shoutout (yes I was bitter and what I did was pathetic) at a networking site I posted before, that who he is to act normal without even saying 'a freaking sorry', he replied something like he believes that a mere word of 'sorry' would never cover it. I believe he knew the gravity of the things he has done wrong thus the reaction but a simple sorry does wonders, especially if someone means it. Admitting to yourself that you are wrong is a start (your conscience would bug you anyway), but being able to step down from your ego and admit to the person you've offended that you've made a mistake would not only make you braver but a man of ethics as well.

3. Real men are simply gentlemen Here's the scene. A guy gets a seat in a crowded bus. And then a pregnant woman gets in and is left standing. Okay, the guy is tired so he'd never give up his seat. What's wrong with that picture is when ANOTHER girl stands up and offers her chair. And he has no right to give it an excuse that he's tired. I was tired too, and I'm carrying such a load that day to boot. Add to that hypocrisy when some men prefer who they give seats too. In most cases it's the sexy college or office girl. I've experimented with that you know. I've tried dressing with a huge shirt and bulky pants and no one noticed me. Then in another instance I was into something that enhances my (ahem) features. Now everyone offers their seats. Just great huh? I'm not saying that it is wrong for guys of not offering their places and stand. It's an age old argument and we all know it. That why would guys offer their seats when we, women are up for equality anyway? I say that's just an excuse. I don't mind not being offered a place, really. But women helping other women? Come on. You just prove some of us can act more like 'real men' than you could ever be.

4. Real men does not need to look macho to be macho I know a guy who beefs himself up but could not lift as much as a finger when the water dispenser is out in the pantry. He then waits for another officemate to do it for him-- someone half his size.

5. Real men listens to Taylor Swift No not really. What I meant with that is one's manliness could never be boxed in just by what he listens or even watches. So what if a guy watches Gossip Girl? I know I don't and I'd never but an individual's taste in such things is not a sign of being a man. If that logic is even true, what makes me then? I rarely watch chick flicks. Does that make me less of a woman? If you think that your choices in music and film should always have to appear 'manly' then that is your problem. You make yourself defined by it.

6. Real men knows how to listen No, you don't just pretend that you listen when your girlfriend retells you of a friend of another friend's cousin's sister's ridiculous story. It doesn't mean that when something is not about having sex later nor more of that means that you shouldn't listen. It is obvious that women love to talk. We really do. And even if something is not really that important to talk about it is something we want to share. And we need you to do the same as well. 

7. Real men don't cover up a lie with another lie When a guy breaks up with you, looked straight into your eyes saying that he doesn't have anyone at all but has no apparent reason to dump you in the first place, (meaning he's lying about not having an affair) he's hands down a pathetic loser. Why? Because if he has a third party going on he should at least be a man to tell his girlfriend about it AS the reason why he's breaking up. You chose to do that anyway. Live with it. Give the girl a decent reason why she'd never come back to you.

[misstinapie]

Real Men does, Real Men don't (10.24.9)

Of my age not even close to an online friend of mine who is clearly a few of the people who I can say is not a waste of carbon dioxide and evolution (yes, let's admit that there are those who just consume resources and has attitudes and brains devoid of sense), I know for a fact I have no reason to write this blog without someone who'd say 'who are you to tell?'. You see I remember Chelsea from her show (Chelsea Lately) pass judgement on Miley's 'memoirs', saying the pop star is not even half her (Chelsea) age (and sexual experience as she pointed out) to even deserve a memoir. The point is, I'm noticeably not that old to write what I'm about to write, but I'm doing it anyway only because this IS after all my blog.

It all started at out with our late lunch at KFC which included me, Jin and Wilvic at the previous event of Komikon. What happened was this:

Jin: Real men does not listen to Taylor Swift.

Wilvic : Real men does not say they are real men to prove they are real men.

Obviously the answer to Jin's statement does not seem to make sense but I guess that is how Wilvic came back with and I knew I'm on his side (ok fine, I also listen to Swift) of the argument. And then it dawned to me. What a good post that is. I haven't read one yet. Not that I surf the web that much so there is a huge possibility one exists somewhere but it's still worth writing as far as I believe. And this is the list I came up:

1. Real men can be cool without being (and looking like) a 'bad guy' It's probably the tv or the big screen but someone must have tipped off the male specie that by acting like they are bad guys they'd appeal to every single woman. Most losers (and I'm afraid to say) who happens to be of my age range are those who are posing to 'worship the devil', don the bad guy generic look, 'OWN' multiple women at a time and the likes. I even remember an officemate who said that he knew a guy who at night and at clubs poses like a tough guy (even admitting 'OF the devil') and when on one Sunday called him at his house, he was told that 'oh, he's at the church with his girlfriend'. Yeah right, poser.

2. Real men knows how say the word sorry Okay. This one I've personally experienced. I know this guy who has wronged me so many times that when at some shoutout (yes I was bitter and what I did was pathetic) at a networking site I posted before, that who he is to act normal without even saying 'a freaking sorry', he replied something like he believes that a mere word of 'sorry' would never cover it. I believe he knew the gravity of the things he has done wrong thus the reaction but a simple sorry does wonders, especially if someone means it. Admitting to yourself that you are wrong is a start (your conscience would bug you anyway), but being able to step down from your ego and admit to the person you've offended that you've made a mistake would not only make you braver but a man of ethics as well.

3. Real men are simply gentlemen Here's the scene. A guy gets a seat in a crowded bus. And then a pregnant woman gets in and is left standing. Okay, the guy is tired so he'd never give up his seat. What's wrong with that picture is when ANOTHER girl stands up and offers her chair. And he has no right to give it an excuse that he's tired. I was tired too, and I'm carrying such a load that day to boot. Add to that hypocrisy when some men prefer who they give seats too. In most cases it's the sexy college or office girl. I've experimented with that you know. I've tried dressing with a huge shirt and bulky pants and no one noticed me. Then in another instance I was into something that enhances my (ahem) features. Now everyone offers their seats. Just great huh? I'm not saying that it is wrong for guys of not offering their places and stand. It's an age old argument and we all know it. That why would guys offer their seats when we, women are up for equality anyway? I say that's just an excuse. I don't mind not being offered a place, really. But women helping other women? Come on. You just prove some of us can act more like 'real men' than you could ever be.

4. Real men does not need to look macho to be macho I know a guy who beefs himself up but could not lift as much as a finger when the water dispenser is out in the pantry. He then waits for another officemate to do it for him-- someone half his size.

5. Real men listens to Taylor Swift No not really. What I meant with that is one's manliness could never be boxed in just by what he listens or even watches. So what if a guy watches Gossip Girl? I know I don't and I'd never but an individual's taste in such things is not a sign of being a man. If that logic is even true, what makes me then? I rarely watch chick flicks. Does that make me less of a woman? If you think that your choices in music and film should always have to appear 'manly' then that is your problem. You make yourself defined by it.

6. Real men knows how to listen No, you don't just pretend that you listen when your girlfriend retells you of a friend of another friend's cousin's sister's ridiculous story. It doesn't mean that when something is not about having sex later nor more of that means that you shouldn't listen. It is obvious that women love to talk. We really do. And even if something is not really that important to talk about it is something we want to share. And we need you to do the same as well.

7. Real men don't cover up a lie with another lie When a guy breaks up with you, looked straight into your eyes saying that he doesn't have anyone at all but has no apparent reason to dump you in the first place, (meaning he's lying about not having an affair) he's hands down a pathetic loser. Why? Because if he has a third party going on he should at least be a man to tell his girlfriend about it AS the reason why he's breaking up. You chose to do that anyway. Live with it. Give the girl a decent reason why she'd never come back to you.