#absolutely no American girl slander allowed

[talkfastcal]

when the boredness starts to feel like dressing your 60+ doll collection

[ship-enthusiast]

Prompt: Modern Destiel AU

Teacher!Castiel x Youtuber!Dean

3.2k words

TW: mild swearing

Castiel Novak was a socially inept introvert to those who personally knew him and just a quiet guy to those who didn’t. He never knew his mother and had an absent father throughout his childhood. Despite the terrible credentials, his father had adopted a boy before Castiel was born from Africa named Uriel. He also had an older half-sister named Anna whom he was closest to throughout his childhood.

Castiel and Uriel were terrible step-siblings with Uriel always bullying Cas into submission during their childhood. Since his home wasn’t a safe place, he would often find sanctuary at the local library and immersed himself in history and literature. He had a short-term girlfriend named Hester whom he dated for a few months as a teenager when he was under the pressure of his father to date girls. Not wanting to disappoint him further, Cas tried to court his dad’s business friend’s daughter but it ended up a mess since Cas was, well, gayer than a rainbow unicorn.

Due to his excellent grades, he was offered a full-ride scholarship to the University of Kansas. He accepted the offer because he wanted to get as far away from home as he could and got his bachelor’s degree in education before interning at a public school. Because he loved working at the high school so much, he decided to become a substitute teacher for the district.

While subbing for a variety of teachers, he worked for his master’s degree in American history and was offered a permanent teacher’s position when one of them retired. On the side of subbing for teachers, Castiel worked at a coffee shop in a neighboring city. Although he was still shy and reserved, he managed to make a friend named Meg who was a regular at the coffee shop. At that time he met a downcast Dean Winchester who had just lost his father. He would usually meet up with his brother, Sam, at Cas’s coffee shop since Sam attended the nearby university. Sometimes Dean would stay behind when his brother left and that’s when Castiel introduced himself and the two bonded over their love-hate relationships with their parental figures.

Dean always expressed how he felt like he was a failure for never going to college when Castiel encourages him to go for a job or start something he wants to do. Dean had a side hobby of making videos as a kid because his family would move around a lot so he liked to film entertaining short videos of him and Sam to stay in touch with old friends. The friendships never lasted and the hobby was discarded until he decided to take Castiel’s advice and began filming little videos and posting them on youtube under the name ‘Wayward Winchester.’

The two would introduce each other to their interests and new things like movies and/or music. One time Dean brought over his friend, Charlie Bradbury, and Castiel thought the two were dating. He was immediately confused because although the two hadn’t explicitly come out to each other, they knew in the short yet meaningful duration of their relationship. His worries were for nothing, though, when Charlie noticed the tension and just casually mentioned she was a lesbian.

Castiel was over the moon when Dean’s videos started gaining traction a few months later. He was scared at the same time because he didn’t know what Dean would do with the newfound fame but he wasn’t ready for him to leave his life forever, and neither was Dean. After one of Castiel’s midterm exams, Dean asked Cas to hang out with him at the coffee shop where they had met. By this time Castiel had almost graduated and had a position waiting for him at the public high school so things were finally going well for the two. Castiel was scared for the meeting, thinking it was goodbye, and almost had a panic attack before Dean asked him to be his boyfriend. Of course, Castiel then felt stupid, said yes, and Dean declared that day to be their first date. Two years later on the exact same date at the exact same spot, Dean Winchester got down on one knee and asked Castiel to marry him.

Dean was a bit surprised and flattered when his fans were thirsting over him in the comments of his newer youtube videos so he explicitly stated he was in a stable relationship with his fiancee. He never specified the gender or his sexuality which was a big topic about him because gay marriage was still only legalized the year before.

They were married in the summer of next year by Dean’s father figure, Bobby Singer. Uriel and Anna were both invited but only Anna came. Sam attended as the best man with his wife, Jessica, and their one-year-old daughter Mary. Cas had asked Charlie to be his maid of honor since the two had bonded immensely after their first initial meeting. The two’s dynamic was convenient since Charlie would talk to whoever approached them and since she was with a guy, she wouldn’t be harassed and sometimes he’d be her wingman when hooking up with other chicks.

As a teacher, he was everything a student could ask for. He assigned homework three times a week and one essay a month. He was also a bit lenient on the due dates because he knew life could get in the way and tried his best to accommodate all of his students’ needs into his lesson plans. Despite his awkward demeanor, new high schoolers feared him but they were easily quelled when they met him. It was cringy whenever an older teacher would try to talk in their generation slang but when Castiel did it it felt extra out of place since he was so awkward. He still continued to surprise students whenever he quoted or understood a popular meme to which he’d reply with a Mean Girls reference of “I’m not like other teachers, I’m a cool teacher.”

His students didn’t question his sexuality much because they were adamant he wasn’t straight. The man was stylish and had a million different sweater vests. His trenchcoat became his trademark since he always came to school wearing it and it was rarely seen not nearby him. His students liked to do their own gestures to let him know they were okay with his sexuality, whether it was speaking about social issues in class or wearing pride clothing.

Castiel would also incorporate a lot of modern issues into his lessons and made sure his students were all self-aware of the situations in the world in hopes that they could help those he could not. There was absolutely no Mr. Novak slander in the hallways—literally, every student loved him; even if they’ve never had him as a teacher. Sometimes he acted like a counselor to those who felt uncomfortable talking to their parents or guardians at home. Overall, he was the best teacher a student could ask for.

In the end, his students were still teenagers and would be caught watching youtube or Netflix in class so he would have to confiscate their phones for the rest of class. He always felt guilty if he kept it any longer so he would pass the phones to his co-worker, Jo Harvelle. Jo also happened to be the daughter of the principal and an avid fan of Wayward Winchester. Castiel would sometimes listen to her rant about how much she liked or disliked something in his husband’s videos during their breaks with minimum comments. If he liked anything she said, he would go home and tell Dean and the two would laugh over it.

It wasn’t until Jo began continuously talking about the theories regarding who Dean’s mystery lover could be and comments regarding his sexuality did Dean finally feel like he was ready to open up to his fans with his husband’s encouragement. Castiel was the one who filmed that video and it trended pretty quickly since only a small handful of popular YouTubers were in the LGBTQ+ community. The video did garner some hate but the reception, for the most part, was very positive. This finally led to Castiel revealing to his students that he had a husband whom he had been married to for eight years. He was only met with positive responses and felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. A year later, Castiel started an elective class that taught about historical LGBTQ+ figures, monuments, timelines, and etc. It also doubled as a “therapy group” as the students liked to call it since it was a safe space.

Even if Castiel dearly loved his job, he wanted nothing more than to go home to his husband, curl up on the couch and have a western movie marathon. Summer break was finally coming up and Cas was more than ready to take a break from grading tests and papers. He had a love-hate relationship with the end of the term because, on one hand, he had a lot of stressed-out students, high piles of ungraded homework, and barely any sleep. But on the other hand, he had the next three months just for him and Dean. Their 10th year anniversary was also coming up and he was fretting about what he should get his husband.

Castiel was snapped out of his thoughts as he heard faint giggling from the back of the classroom. He glances at the clock from the corner of his eye to see that there were still fifteen minutes left of class and students weren’t allowed on their phones until the last five minutes. Sighing, he stands up and walks to the back of the classroom where he sees a small group of girls huddled around a single phone. He walks behind them without any of them noticing, raising an eyebrow when he sees what they’re watching. Most of the time it’s that god-awful show called Riverdale but this time, it was one of Dean’s videos. His husband’s video.

He was a bit taken aback as he recognized the video being on Dean uploaded last week about this game he played with Sam and Jessica called “Never Have I Ever.” The part they were on was “never have I ever gotten a speeding ticket.” Castiel snorts to himself when Dean puts up the sign “I have.” On one of their dates, they were almost late to a musical Castiel had been waiting months to see so Dean was speeding and they were pulled over.

“I wonder what kind of car he drives,” the girl on the right whispers to the others.

“Do not ever get Dean Winchester started on his car,” Castiel finally spoke up, causing a few of the girls to jump in surprise. “He will never shut up.”

“I—” one of the girls blinks in confusion.

“Do you…?”

Before they could ask any questions, Castiel confiscates the phone and walks back to his desk with a smug smile. If only Dean could see him now. The two had decided on keeping Cas’s identity a secret because Dean was the one in the relationship who wanted attention and Cas was content in staying in the background. Dean had also progressively become even more famous throughout the years and Cas knew the fame was not for him. It also made it harder to go on dates without someone recognizing Dean.

There were a few times when they were grocery shopping where a fan spotted them and Cas introduced himself as Dean’s cousin. The two had spoken about whether or not to introduce Castiel to Dean’s channel except Cas was afraid if any of his students saw and began viewing him differently. That is if any of his students even watched Wayward Winchester which apparently, they did.

When the bell rang, Castiel promptly returned the student’s phone before joining Jo in the teacher’s lounge for lunch. After the video where Dean came out, Castiel felt it was time to tell Jo that he was Dean’s husband. Jo was extremely embarrassed and kept apologizing for talking about Dean that way but then was offended she wasn’t told sooner. She forgave him pretty quickly when Cas let her talk to him on the phone one day after school and gave her a signed t-shirt.

“You won’t believe what some students were watching in class today,” Castiel began as he sat down at their designated table.

“What?” Jo asks as she sets down her phone. “Also, I have a favor to ask.”

“What is it?” Cas asks as he opens his lunch bag.

“I have a date later this week so I was hoping you could help me find an outfit…?”

“Why don’t you ask your mom for help?”

“Ugh, you know how she is,” Jo groans into her sandwich. “She’ll shoot down everything and suggest I go in a turtleneck or something.”

“Turtlenecks are fashionable.”

“Not for this type of weather.”

“All right, I’ll help. Do you mean shopping or raiding your closet?”

“Maybe both if you can’t find anything suitable in my mess of a wardrobe.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Oh, it is. It looks like it belongs to a thirteen-year-old Amish girl.”

“Poor thirteen-year-old Amish girls.”

“Oh, shut up. Anyways, what were you talking about earlier?”

“Hm? Oh! I caught some girls watching Dean’s video in class today.”

“And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’?”

“You didn’t know students watched your husband’s videos?” Jo shoves her face into her sandwich to keep from laughing. “You do know...that kids have worn his merchandise to school before, right?”

“Really?!”

“Yeah,” Jo lets out a chuckle. “For a while now. He became really popular after his coming out video.”

“How did I not know this…” Castiel sighs and rests his face in his hands.

“Why? What’s wrong with them knowing?”

“It just makes everything so much more complicated.”

Jo decided not to press any further and continued to eat her sandwich.

“So, who’s the poor chap?”

School ended that day painfully and Castiel was more than happy to come home to hear the shower running, guessing Dean just got back from the gym. He set his bag down and took his coat off before face-planting onto his bed. He stayed in the position for a few minutes before turning his body around as he heard the bathroom door open.

“Hey, huggy bear,” Dean smiles as he leans down to kiss Cas’s forehead. “How was work?”

“Turns out the whole school watches your videos.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Castiel says as he sits up. “But maybe I’m worrying over nothing. Maybe they won’t even care that I’m married to a famous YouTuber.”

“I wouldn’t say famous.”

“Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Dean wraps an arm around Cas’s shoulder and pulls him close. “We’ll figure it out.”

Castiel snuggles further into his husband’s embrace. “You’re still wet.”

“Just the way you like me.”

“And the moment’s ruined,” Castiel playfully pushes Dean away and stands up. “I’ll go get dinner started.”

“I love you!” Dean calls out.

“Yeah, I know,” Cas replies as he closes the door.

Castiel’s alarm clock blared loudly as he hit the off button and rubbed his eyes open. He sighed as he tapped Dean’s hands around his waist, trying to loosen his arms. Dean protested by whining and holding him closer. Castiel sighs and stays in the position for a few moments, basking in the peaceful quietness as he traced shapes on Dean’s left arm. His eyes began drooping when he looked back at his alarm clock to check how much time he had when he suddenly bolted out of bed.

“Come back to bed,” Dean whines sleepily as he makes grabby motions towards Cas’s side of the bed.

“I can’t,” Castiel says breathlessly as he began pulling on a shirt and pants. “I’m going to be late!”

“Hm?” Dean groans as he finally opens his eyes and glares at the alarm clock as Castiel rushes out of their bedroom. “This is your fault.”

He slumps his head back onto the pillow when he hears the front door shut and lies there for a few more minutes before finally sitting up and stretching. He looks around sleepily to see a few of Castiel’s shirts lying carelessly on the floor. Dean picks them up and throws them on the bed so Cas can hang them up later before putting on pants and heading to the kitchen. He’s about to make his coffee when he notices Castiel’s lunch bag lying on the counter.

“Oh, Cas. What am I going to do with you?”

After his first three cups of coffee and an hour of sitting and staring at the wall, Dean looks into the bag to see it still empty and decides to make a sandwich and pack some of the stuff he’s seen Cas put in it before checking the time. Cas’s second period would start in fifteen minutes so he had some time to give him his lunch. Dean shrugs on a jacket and starts the impala, careful to make sure the water bottle is secured tightly in Cas’s bag.

When he makes it to the school parking lot, he puts on a cap and sunglasses to hide his face before grabbing Castiel’s lunch bag and heading to the front office. He signs in at the front office and walks through the hallways, thinking back to the time when he was in high school which felt like eons ago. He had no idea why Castiel wanted to make a career out of teaching high school students—they were usually the moodiest bunch of kids but Castiel loved them.

A student is walking past him when he stops and gasps when he looks up at Dean.

“Oh my God, are you Dean Winchester?!”

“Yes I am, kid,” Dean says, not wanting to disappoint him.

“Oh, wow!” The kid’s eyes widened. “I’m a huge fan of your videos. Can I...maybe get a photo?”

“Sure, why not?” Dean takes off his sunglasses and leans down for a quick selfie when the bell rings and streams of children begin pouring out of their classes.

“Ah, shit,” Dean groans to himself.

Sure enough, a crowd accumulates around Dean as multiple students ask for photos and for him to sign their folders or homework assignments with sharpies and mechanical pencils. Dean chuckles at the students enthusiastic response to his presence that he forgets the reason why he was there in the first place until he felt eyes drill into the back of his head.

Dean straightens his posture and turns around, making eye contact with Castiel over the crowd of students. He strides over to his husband with a bright smile before planting a little kiss on his cheek, causing their audience to gasp and some students begin to scream.

“What are you doing here?” Castiel asks in confusion.

It seemed like the whole school was holding its breath.

“You forgot your lunch,” Dean says as he hands the bag over.

A few girls collectively sigh in the background.

“MR. NOVAK IS DATING THE DEAN WINCHESTER?!”

The students begin screaming again.

“Actually,” Dean clears his throat as the screaming subsides. “Mr. Novak is married to Dean Winchester.”

Castiel covers his bright red face with his hand as Dean grins at the chaos he had created.

“See you at home, angel,” he plants a chaste kiss on Cas’s lips before doing a salute and exiting the school, grinning the whole way back to the impala.

[angrylizardjacket]

mouth full of white lies {Machine Gun Kelly} 3

3. i thought love was a kind of emptiness

Summary: So you’re in love with him. Not great. And you wanna tell your brother about it, but that means coming clean about everything, and you’re not gonna do that! So you’re just gonna suffer, because it’s for the greater good. And you’re not gonna make things weird. Speaking of weird though, how is this even going to end? Colson sounds kind of like a masochist when he talks about it, but there must be a way to make neither of you seem like the bad guy... When this all ends. Which it will, much to your chagrin.

A/N: watch me have no idea about american geography

the brainstrust: @sataninsatin @silvertonguedserpent @juliarose21 @kellysimagines @estxxbritt @machine-gun-casie @harringtonstudios @misscharlottelee @narcvissa @hiworlditishumbleme @angelwarner28 @nevilles-insinuations @rumoured-whispers @mgkobsessed @edwardtriggerhandzz @suckerforbarnes @wastelcve @bakerkells @local-troubled-writer @freddiessmallnipples @oopsiedoopsie23 @mayaslifeinabox @mrs-machinegun-norris @hxbbit

----

For the record, and if anyone asks, when Colson sends you a photo of himself in full Tommy Lee makeup, your heart definitely doesn’t skip a beat. The long wig, the sharp contouring, the eyeliner, it does absolutely nothing for you. You definitely don’t spend a good five minutes contemplating how much you want his lipstick to stain your mouth. Because he’s not your real boyfriend. You’re doing this to minimize the amount of nasty messages you get online. The fact that he’s hot and funny and surprisingly kind and weirdly observant, and god, have you already said hot? Because he tends to walk around your shared hotel room in shorts and little else and it’s really not doing great things for your productivity. 

The point is, all those things are a bonus! A happy little accident, if you will, a positive side-effect of this whole arrangement. Like getting a job and realising that you’ll be working with your brother, who currently is quickly becoming very, very close with your fake boyfriend.

There’s no-one you trust more in the whole world than Douglas, but if you tell him that your relationship is fake, you’ll have to tell him why you’re in a fake relationship, and he’s not above starting an online rampage against people sending his little sister death threats. Which, by the way, you’re not getting a lot of since dating Colson, honestly you might even be getting less than before, so it’s working.

Your absolutely fake relationship with Colson Baker, whom you have no feelings for whatsoever is functioning exactly as intended. 

Except for the fact that when you’re on set, and you see him in costume, smiling, it kind of makes your day. Watching him play drums? He just looks like he’s having so much fun, and you can’t help but be endeared by it! This was outlined as low commitment, high reward, and now your feelings are ruining it for everybody. Well, just for you. Because it’s just a small crush, and he’s your friend, so you’re not going to make it weird.

Which, right now, it isn’t. He hogs the blankets, which you pretend you’re annoyed by, and sets about fifteen different alarms for himself that have you waking up at the crack of dawn so that he can go in early to get his tattoos covered, even though you don’t need to be there until much later than he is. So you grumble into the blankets, and when you get to set there’s always a hot drink waiting for you. 

He’s out most nights, not late enough that he’d need to oversleep to be functioning the next morning, but it’s not uncommon for you to be curled up on your side of the bed, usually scrolling through social media, and he’ll come in, sometimes humming something, sometimes chattering away on the phone. Sometimes he’ll shower, but he always smokes, watching the stars, right before he comes to bed.

Or you’ll join him. 

On the weekends, you’ll grab dinner together after filming, and he’s in his eyeliner, the foundation sometimes a little worse for wear, and you’ll explore the nightlife that LA has to offer, seeing live bands, or going to clubs. Of course, as a famous musician, DJs will pull Colson up into their booth, to play a song or two, and you, without fail, always managed to feel out of place. So you hang back, maybe have a dance, or maybe get a drink, or even just people-watch. You enjoy it, but you enjoy going back to the hotel more.

Tabloids, or the modern equivalent at least, get familiar with your name, and it’s not long before your image starts to change.

About six minutes into a twenty minute ‘tea spilling’ video, the host says your name.

“Now, [Y/N] Booth, DuckDuckBooth, whatever you know her as, has been all over the mainstream media lately because - shock horror - she’s in a relationship with someone with a bad reputation! Because that’s what we love here, ladies and gents; rumours and slander,” the host, a young woman with bleach blonde hair and a thick English accent rolls her eyes, sarcasm dripping from her tongue, “so a bit of a run-down for those who don’t know, [Y/N] is a lifestyle and, I don’t know, entertainment industry insider - YouTuber? She makes videos on what it’s like to work all different jobs in the industry. And her brother’s famous? I think?” She looks to a point off-screen, presumably where her laptop was sitting, letting her look him up. “He was in Jupiter Ascending, he was the weird prince-dude; Douglas Booth, and he was in a bunch of stuff that was only really released in the UK.” 

It cuts to a new shot of the host tucking her hair behind her ears.

“So [Y/N] recently started dating Machine- MG- uh, I don’t know how to say it, it sounds wrong coming from me; Machine Gun Kelly? He’s a rapper I think? He’s been in a few shows on like, streaming services? I don’t know, I don’t know him that well, but apparently he’s one for scandal - allegedly.” She emphasises, before taking a deep breath, “and now he and [Y/N] are working on the same project, and have started dating, like two adults who like each other might start doing!” It’s condescending, as if directly responding to some less than polite criticisms she’s seen online, but she shrugs it off flippantly.

“Anyways, I’ve been following [Y/N] for a while, I’ve seen her recent uploads and Instagram stories and such; they’re cute, okay? I don’t personally enjoy his music, but that’s just my tastes, you know? And I don’t understand all the negativity she’s suddenly receiving; you all know she’s an adult, right? Like not just in the UK, she’s over 21, she’s allowed to go out and drink, and be a human being. It’s not like she’s suddenly become a different person; just because she’s not acting in the way your overly-sanitized view of her should, doesn’t mean she’s a different person, or that she’s corrupted or whatever. She’s not a bad person for enjoying herself.”

“Everyone speculating about whether it’s fake or not, like they have nothing in common, well it’s almost like you don’t know them personally; if it’s fake, who even cares, that’s -” she laughs a little, “that’s Hollywood, isn’t it? I think the people hating on her, or on him, or wanting them to admit it’s fake or just break up, are jealous, honestly, because even if it’s fake, it’s a hell of a commitment.”

“Do you ever worry?” You can’t help but ask, it’s late, much later than you know you should be up, but he’s awake too, yawning, looking at his phone. Both of you tucked up in bed, he takes a moment before looking at you. There’s something about the shadow of eyeliner he hadn’t quite been able to remove that just makes him look edgy and gorgeous.

“I try not to,” he answers candidly, “but about what?”

“About people finding out about us.”

“Usually,” he cracks a half smile, “when a girl asks me that, it’s about people finding out that we are together,” and he’s smiling, but you just frown in the dark, unable to appreciate the humour. 

“What’ll they say? Of course you’ll be fine, but I-” you swallow, shaking your head, “sorry, asshole thing to say; of course I care about what they say about you, just as much me, but -”

“But you’ve got a lot further to fall than I do,” he says with a surprising honesty, and you meet his gaze in the glow of his screen light, “honestly I have no idea how this is gonna end, I thought you did.” And you feel your stomach drop. 

How were you supposed to respond to this?! There is absolutely no way you can say what you’re thinking, that you don’t want this to end because you’ve started to catch real feelings. 

“I’m winging it,” you admit softly. Something about his expression softens, but his screen goes dark before you can see it, “I know you’re a good person but-”

“Then you don’t know me that well, Ducky,” he laughs a little, though the sound is hollow, and you can hear him rustling around as he looks up at the ceiling in the dark, “kid, you don’t know me at all -”

“Don’t call me kid,” you bristle, quietly defiant, but he just seems to ignore you.

“I know I’m a bad dude, okay? And if you want this whole thing to end with everyone thinking I’ve broken your heart, then do it, I’ve been through worse. I’ve done worse; if you wanna just worry about yourself, you can.” 

“So it’s black and white; I’m red riding hood and you’re the big bad wolf? That’s how we end this?”

“You think in fairy tale analogies,” he huffs an almost disbelieving laugh, “I’m just saying that if you didn’t have to be with me, you wouldn’t be; you wanted scandalous but not a scandal, I get it, okay? I’m good at that; good at both, actually, but I guess you’re cute enough that you can pick one and not the other.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You snap, feeling angry, almost betrayed by his callous words. In the dark, you can make out the shape of his silhouette against the stars.

“You’re all clean and shiny and shit, you’ve got a philanthropist big brother, and a life in the entertainment industry without the actual pressure of being an actor, and yeah, YouTube is hard, I get that, now more than anything else, watching you ‘s definitely given me a new appreciation for the effort that goes in, but -”

“But what? It’s not a real job?”

That shuts him up fast. 

Fuming in the dark, you clamber from the bed, and head onto the balcony, slamming the door behind you. The night air is cool and crisp against the warm anger bubbling just beneath your skin, and you take a few deep breaths. Why you’re out here, you’re not sure; you should have gone down the hall and stayed with Douglas, but here you were, cooling off on the balcony. 

You’re in his seat, the seat he always sits in to smoke before bed, and it feels strange, but you’re not going to give up the seat, even as he opens the door. He doesn’t look at you, instead, he leans against the railing, looking out at the ocean glittering with stars.

“I wasn’t -” he starts, before sighing, “fuck, I know it’s a real job, okay?”

But he’s met with silence.

“I was gonna say - fuck, there’s like, a quote thing someone once told me, I think it was Shakespeare or some shit - there’s more things in Heaven and Earth, you know, than are dreamed in your philosophy.” He paused, “I’m dealing with more than just your shit, you know? Every fuckin’ person wants to hate me right now; your shit is small fish, Ducky. If you’re not getting hate, then it’s worth it, okay? And after all of this, I’ll still be averaging the same amount of hate as I always get, not that I give a shit. It’s pebble in a stream stuff.” When again, he’s met with silence, he sighs gently, hanging his head, before heading back inside, though he doesn’t close the door.

On your own, for only a moment, you feel your insides twisting, frustrated at overreacting, heart warming at his words, just a little. 

“Pebble in a stream stuff?” You ask quietly, when he joins you once more, this time with a joint and his lighter.

“Immutable,” he says, voice flat as he focuses on lighting up, before taking a long drag. After a moment of holding the smoke in his lungs, he breathes out, watching it as he speaks, “like a river, if you throw a pebble in, it creates a ripple, but the current always corrects itself. No matter what you do, the river just keeps flowing in the same direction.” 

“Deep,” you muse.

“It’s from X-Men,” he responded, and there’s a beat, before the two of you break out into laughter at the absurdity of it all, of his philosophical ramblings being ripped from a comic book movie, of the idea of the two of you ever getting into this situation in the first place.

When the laughter dies down, you find yourself smiling at him, watching him while his grin is turned up to the stars.

“You say I don’t know you, even though we’ve been doing this for almost a month and a half now; I wanna know you,” you tell him as genuinely as you can manage in your tired state, and he turns to you with an unreadable expression, and you catch yourself before you act on the fluttering in your chest, “to make it more believable.” You add, and he nods, and his gaze goes back to the sky; if it was a little disappointed, you try not to think about it too hard, “so you don’t like cutesy dates like fairs, what do you like?”

Licking his lips as he thinks, he finally turns to you, eyebrow raised.

“Honestly?”

Why does his gaze right now make your pulse race?

“Honestly.” You dare not break his gaze.

“I like going to clubs with you, to see bands and shit,” he tells you, and... oh, you weren’t expecting that. There’s that soft, unreadable expression again, though he seems endeared by your genuine surprise, “but I sometimes get the feeling that you feel, uh, out of place?” He seems concerned.

“I mean, not really, it’s fun and all!” You try, but he gives a smirk.

“You don’t have to sugar coat it -”

“It’s sticky, and it feels weird with all the dudes trying to grind up on me when I’m like, meant to be with you. I always feel like someone’s about to pull out their phone, snap a photo and accuse me of cheating.” You blurt out, and Colson’s expression turned from surprised to amused.

“Stick with me then -”

“I don’t wanna be a bother; I’m not a music person, I shouldn’t be in like, a DJ booth I don’t think.”

“You’re with me, you can go wherever you want.”

The night is cool and crisp, and he’s got an early start, but the two of you sit out there, talking, laughing, actually getting to know each other. He tells you all about Cassie, about how proud he is of her, how much he misses her, and how proud she is of him in turn. You, in turn, tell him stories of yourself and Douglas from your childhood, of how he’d always been your biggest fan, and your first defender, and how you’d been to all of his premieres. At this, Colson’s eyes glaze over a little, lost in thought.

“I have no idea how this is gonna end,” he says gently, before looking to you, “but whenever you wanna call it quits, say the word.”

But you hear I’m read to cut and run at any moment, and you know it’s selfish, but it’s not what you want to hear.

“Thanks,” you respond, with a small smile instead, “same to you; don’t just stick around for my benefit,” you try to laugh, but it doesn’t quite come out right. It’s quiet after that, though it had to be said, and it’s not long before the two of you go to bed.

It’s a turning point, it’s where you start to really try to get to know each other, rather than just being around each other. Maybe it’s just hope, but it feels a little more real with each day that passes.

“Hello! Hello and welcome back, ducklings! Today we’ve got a very special guest! And if you’ve read the title of this video, you know who it is! That’s right, my boyfriend is going to try and teach me the basics of drumming!”

The comments of the video tell you that you both look so happy, look so cute, look so in love.

“You’re a good actor,” Colson tells you, as if he believes the starry-eyed looks you give him are a carefully calculated ruse. You, on the other hand, feel like a fool only moments from being outed as being in love with your fake boyfriend, which was ridiculous; he’s the only person who needs to believe it’s a ruse after all.

Even Douglas tells you the video is good, and suddenly you’re starting to feel like an asshole for lying to him for so long.

But it’ll work out. It has to. And neither you nor Colson is gonna be the bad guy. Because he’s not, no matter what he says .

He keeps buying you hot drinks if his alarms wake you up, and he keeps you close whenever you go out, and he gives you a blanket whenever you fall asleep in his trailer during breaks, and -

“Has Duck ever told you about how she found a frog when we were little, like a live frog,” Douglas was grinning over lunch, while you were slowly becoming more embarrassed by Colson's side, your forehead pressed to his shoulder as your brother recounted one of his favourite stories, “and she named it after me, because she was always a bit of a menace, but it got free, and mum and dad almost lost their minds when she came crying about how ‘Doug was missing in the woods!’” He grinned, both fond and a bit sharp, “they only realised she was talking about the frog when I joined the search party after getting home from a friend’s house.”

You heave a sigh, but Colson gives you a gentle, reassuring pat.

“No, that’s fuckin’ adorable, but no she hadn’t told me that; but I had heard about how you made the both of you duck costumes for your school’s Halloween,” and Colson gives him a toothy grin as Douglas flushes with embarrassment, though he seems endeared by the nostalgia of it all, “primary school, was it?”

“Not Halloween, it was a book fair,” Douglas corrected, and you surfaced finally, leaning into Colson, who wrapped an arm around you, and you level a soft smile at your brother, who returns one in kind, before his gaze flicks to Colson’s, and back. A smile. A nod. A silent approval. Fuck, you hate lying to him.

But you’re not above a little white lie to the internet for some advice.

r/AmITheAsshole posted by u/idkquackythrowaway

AITA for falling for my fake boyfriend and lying to my best friend about it?

So hello, throw away account because if either of them find this, I’ll be mortified and have to run away to canada and live as a goat farmer.

So I started ““““dating”“““ my “”””boyfriend””””, let’s call him C, a few months ago, because all of our friends kept accusing us of dating, and it was easier to just go along with it than deny it - there’s a lot of extenuating circumstances here; and yes I have issues lying to my friends, but I can deal with it for the greater good. It’s better for C and me in the short-term anyways.

Anyways so my best friend, D, is someone I’ve never lied to, we’ve always been so incredibly close, but now he’s getting to be good friends with C too, and approves of the two of us, but I’m just worried he’ll be betrayed if I tell him it wasn’t real.

Also, I might have real feelings for C, which he Does Not Have for me, so I feel like I’m betraying him too, by pretending that it’s not fake. ANd I wanna tell D about this, but then I’d have to come clean about everything, which....... its a lot. 

So Am I The Asshole for catching feelings in a fake relationship, and lying to my closest friend about it?

[324 comments]

The reaction is mixed.

And mostly unhelpful.

A lot of people are calling you the asshole, which, ouch, but you had kind of already come to terms with that. A lot more people, however, are just abstaining from making judgement, considering there was definitely more to the story. You’re not sure how to deal with those comments; you want to defend yourself, or give more context, but you also know you absolutely cannot. 

Eventually you decide to come clean.

“I’m in love with Colson.”

About the wrong thing. To the wrong person.

Douglas blinks slowly at you, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

“Really?”

“Really really.” You sigh, with an air of defeat, though this has him frowning, putting his fork full of pasta down. 

“What’s wrong, did he do something?” Douglas is playing the protective older brother, just as he has done for as long as you can remember, but it’s all you can do to shake your head.

In truth, Colson’s been fucking perfect; despite his reputation, he’s a fantastic - fake - partner. Perhaps it’s that you work together, so he doesn’t have to find a distraction outside of his main focus. 

“Duckling,” Douglas says it so gentle, taking your hand over the dinner table, “I’m happy for you, as long as you’re happy.” And what can you say to that? Another lie? You feel like you’ll be ill if you let another lie pass your tongue in front of Douglas.

“I love him,” you say, weakly, and you feel your eyes misting at the implication, the reality of your words. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I-” you choke on your words, and tears start to gather, threatening to spill, “I think I love him more than he loves me.” It’s not a lie, but it’s enough for Douglas. 

“I’m sorry,” he sounds so genuine, holding your hand tight in his, finishing dinner, and taking you both back to the hotel. He does the only thing he can think of to cheer you up; put on a movie on his laptop and wrap you up in blankets like he would when you were kids. The movie’s a little outdated, but he’s trying, and that alone makes you feel a little better. 

“Hello! Hello and welcome back, ducklings! Today we’ve just got a low-effort video, it’s just a top ten comfort movies from childhood that survive a modern rewatch! As decided by me and Douglas!”

Filming is set to move locations soon, from being on-location on the Sunset Strip to a back-lot about an hour away, somehow closer to the hills, and you feel like you can hear the ticking of a clock counting down.

“When filming’s over, we can end it if you want,” you tell Colson as you’re packing up your suitcases.

“Oh,” he seems surprised.

“Oh?”

“That’s soon,” is all the clarification he gives, but he doesn’t sound happy about it, “are you sure?” 

“I mean, I don’t wanna outstay my welcome,” you try to joke, but he makes a noise that you can’t quite decipher, “what?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Just thought it would maybe go until the premiere.” He admits, and you pause, actually surprised at his words, and he clears his throat, “it would be weird seeing you there if I was with someone else, right?”

“Right,” you muse quietly, before going back to folding your clothes, “that’s a year away still, I’m pretty sure.” You tell him, and he hums, but doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“Well I’ve got a few events before then I need a date for,” he says, noncommittally, “and we’ll see each other before then; if you wanna be convincing you can crash at my place if you wanna, in The Hills, at least for a bit, if you ain’t got anything else to do sort of thing,” he actually sounds a bit hesitant, and you swallow hard, before letting yourself smile, pleased.

“I think you like having me around.” When you look at him, he’s trying to hide a smile of his own.

“'course I do.”

[sinnercerely]

𝕋ɪʟʟ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴅᴏᴇs ᴜs ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ|

To be her’s and only her’s! //  𝒯𝑜𝑔𝒶 + 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇!

♡ Toga only. However, a poly relationship with uraraka is coming! ♡

🥀 reader-type:

o Black (familiar with African-American culture) 

♡ She/Her/They/Them

o Asexual

♡ Feline Quirk 🥀

—————————————————————————-

Headcannon: Himiko and the reader’s relationship dynamic and love between the two troublemakers! ————————————🔪————————————

(fluff!) |Here kitty, kitty, kitty!

🌸 Possessive

🔪 Touch-Starved

🌸 ChAoTiC/IMPULSIVE

🌸 A week hasn’t even passed, yet she is absolutely DEDICATED to you. She makes sure to kiss all your tears away and clean all your wounds. Emotionally and physically.

🍡 When she cleans your cuts and bruises from fights with heroes, that slimy bastard is all over you (her tongue)! She won’t lick you on the intimate parts of your body, she respects you too much to break your boundaries!

🌸 When it comes to comforting you, she loves to make jokes out of dark situations. Nothing is off-limits for her unless you say so. If you want her to be more serious, she will, even if that lasts for at least 3 minutes. She will always be serious about you, so she will show you that. As long as you give her cuddles for her effort! She wouldn’t want for her kitten to be forced to be put back in their place...though, you do look cute with bite marks, cuts, and bruises...

🍡 Won’t let her help you? Fine. Hope you are prepared for feral Toga. She gets nasty with you by, talking over you, attacking you with her love bites in public, ignoring you when you want her attention, killing everyone in the damn place for talking or looking at you, and cutting you with her knife. The cuts usually are on your thighs, stomach, and arms. She would mark your face, but, that area is for her slaps. Though, don’t worry she would kiss all the tears away and makeup if you wear that. Just...let her love you lol.

🌸 If you have a side job, she will stand in the corner of the store and watch you. Her posture tenses up when someone gets near you. God forbid someone tries to hit on you...at least 5 bodies are dumped in the dumpster at the back of the building. She won’t even collect their blood. Only the tastiest and worthy blood enters her. So...I hope you can handle her trying to suck onto you like a CapriSun lol. Even when you are working. Might need to knock her in the head to stop her.

🍡 Now, is you won’t allow her to be in the building you are in, that’s fine. She will follow you either way. Behind a counter? She is outside the door and staring at you with a hoodie that says ‘Thot Destroyer’. Getting some fresh air? Cool, she’ll stand on top of a building and stare down at you. Taking a shower?.........where are your clothes?

🌸 She has a tracklist of being a pervert, so, yeah, she will take your clothes to admire your body as you search for a new set of clothes...which is all under her butt. But, you don’t need to know that :].

🍡 Insecure about your body? Oh hell no! Not on her watch! “WHAT?!- DID SOMEONE SAY SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR BODY KITTEN?!?- OH HELL NO-” If you have slang in your vocabulary, she will take that crap and slander a bitch until all their insecurities are popping out. She will drag that bitch by their roots (anyone can get it) and disfigure their asses. Just to throw their asses outside with no dignity and missing limbs (if that’s what you want honey) or slowly and painfully end them. 

🌸 No one is making you insecure? So, your thoughts are making you insecure? "Well, when are those thoughts gonna show up for these rounds?". She is kidding of course. She would make sure to praise you every day and 24/7. Feel ‘too fat’? She will encourage you to wear tight underwear and kiss all your fat! Suffocate her with your thighs, please! PLEASE. Discolorment on your body? She will spoil you in products that will help ease that insecurity while making sure it does not hurt your gorgeous melanin!

🍡 Now for the educational bit! Japan isn’t free from colorist ideas and racism. So, you need to be honest about your experiences with being black in Japan. She will educate herself on black culture and history, if anyone tries to deny the damage colonists have created, bastards are gonna be laying cold on the floor. She isn’t ignorant to how shitty black people are treated, especially if you are dark-skinned, just know she isn’t gonna be a ‘savior’ for black people. She will be an ally, she will respect your culture, and hit people with true history!

🌸 Now, back on insecurities, creams that 'lighten your skin' is very common in Asia. So, she would not shame you if you did that or is considering doing that, she will however compliment you. Not for brightening your skin, but for being black. She will praise your culture and make sure to buy things that are very prominent in your community. She will encourage you to start embracing that melanin! You do not have to pay for your thickness, big lips, beautiful big eyes, and THAT SHINE. My dude, that glow on dark skin...welp, she is jealous!

🍡 She will definitely do your hair for you! No matter how long it may take, she will make sure your hair is healthy and moisturized! She will order products from amazon for your hair type if you are going natural, like puffballs, afros, braids, and etc. However if you have your hair relaxed or permed, she will buy the best products for your hair, things that strengthen your hair definitely. Wear wigs? Cool! She will try some on with you! Praise you, no matter what others think, you are beautiful/gorgeous/breathtaking with and without the wig.

🌸 Though, she will need to be reminded to not harshly brush your hair, since your ears are big and blends into your hair (and well it hurts as well!). She will be mindful but will mess with your ears, you will need to bite her hands to get her to stop!

🍡 When she is allowed to bathe you, she will fill the bathtub with bubbles and terrorize you! She will scare you by popping out of the water without your acknowledgment, pull your fluffy tail, and tickle you into submission so she can mess with your big ears. So, lock your bathroom door! But, even then, she will wait in a bathroom counter just to bathe with you, soooo, you do not have a choice.

🌸 Anyway, she goes by the rule, “Talk shit, get hit.” Soooo, yeah, lol. She does not play when it comes to you, no matter how different you are to her, she will love you regardless! You two are always ready to fight for each other, so you two are quite the dynamic! Plus, fashionable! Even when blood stains your clothes, beauty cannot be hidden, love.

🍡 Now for some chaos! You two steal from everywhere! Malls, houses, banks, and grocery stores of course! Toga tends to overfill her bra with snacks for you and her (even if you don’t want to eat something, she will ‘gently’ force food down your throat). She likes to get you thicker, even if you are skinny, she will want some type of change in your body, even if it just shows in your face. Also, she will make sure to get supplies for periods as well, if you have those.

🌸 If you two are unfortunate enough to have devils disguised as the uterus, you two will cry, stuff your faces, force a lot of water into your system, and holding heat pads against each other! Even if you don’t have that, she needs you! The girl throws up, cries, and can faint when on her period. So, cuddle her, make her food (something is southern please! She likes southern food from America! Grits, biscuits with gravy, and sausage please!) even cover her in kisses, she will pay you back when the pain stops :)

🍡 When you two are working in the LOV, you two create a lot of fun. Stealing Tomura’s game systems to throw them in the nearby garage bin, cock blocking Dabi, hooking Mr. Compress up with multiple people (even if they are married 👀), and being degenerates in public while cosplaying with Spinner. When Tomura tries to end you two, Toga whips his ass lol. You’ll jump in of course (don’t worry, Tomura won’t actually kill you two, you two are too valuable to the team. Also, he loves his team! He will kill for you two! He loves y’all too much 🥺). Dabi will laugh his ass off while recording the scene, Spinner’s jaw is on the floor, but he is chuckling silently, Mr. Compress breaks it up, but he does watch for a while and poorly hides laughter. So, Tomura now sits in the corner of the bar and complains under his breath, if Toga looks at him, he turns away and tenses up. Toga is a baddie honestly!

🌸 For softer days, you and her whip Tomura’s ass while playing games (he will use cheats to prevent this! Do not say anything though, he is a brat and will dust your controller right there and then). Next, go to the arcade with Spinner, you two always compliment him to ease his insecurities. When someone says something about his appearances, you and Toga plan a homicide. Now, being lazy with Dabi is rare, but fun. You all chat about random stuff, even if he taunts you two, he does still listen and care (he is trying!) about you two. Finally, Mr. Compress is the person who takes you two out for dinner. Toga eats like a pig, but you and Mr. Compress wipe her off and scold her. She has a tendency to swipe both of you two's food, so be careful, and she does bite if you try to take it back!

🍡 You two made a nighttime routine, which will include cuddles, kisses, and a lot of talking. She can not shut up until you fall asleep, she usually talks about the future and how much she loves you. She is considering repurposing her life because she wants you to be able to reach your dreams without her criminal record weighing you down. Even though you have a criminal record as well, she is willing to do anything just for you to go get a high school diploma and go to college. No matter what it takes. She wants you to be happy, successful, and healthy. Hopefully, you two can change together. She would not look bad in a doctor’s coat, and you would not look bad with a diamond ring on your finger...

[wheelygoodteddys]

I don't want to do this!:

I absolutely hate writing about religious discrimination!

Frankly, I wish that I wasn't putting fingers to keyboard about any discrimination.

I also desperately don't want the focus to be on discrimination against everything Islamic and Muslim.

However, sadly, it's the most venomous hated that I have ever encountered, second only to racism against the black human beings of our world.

All my life I must have lived under a rock, maybe I live under a rock now, yet the vileness and outright lies that come out of those obsessed with hating all Islam and Muslims, plus anyone who stands up and says this is wrong, is obscene.

I am disgusted in the way these people respond.

I have had differing opinions with both Muslim men are women yet been addressed with respect and politeness. They are peaceful and not intimidating in any way.

Speak to a person who is anti Muslim, they refuse to listen to anything that may contradict what they want to believe, they will call you a liar and slander you. They intimidate and bully, call you names, question your mental stability, stalk your FB and target your children. The insults and illogical reasoning is unbelievable.

I am horrified that there are people like this in the world!

More horrifying still is for once I can see the appeal in hating the West.

Imagine a young Muslim man, born here, and rather then allowing him to explain what his religion means to him, to try and teach people, that hate everything about him, that he deserves to be not discriminated against, he gets told what his religion is, he is called a murder, a terrorist, a paedophile, a Mysoginist, etc. His sister is spoken to about her husband beating her, being oppressed, asked if she still has her clitorus, threatened with physical abuse, has her hijab torn off, threatened with rape, told she is a bad mother because she sells her baby girls to be raped by old men.

And no matter what they say to try and explain their actual beliefs the abuse flows. And this is from their own countrymen.

Mate, I would want them all gone too! Be honest, who wouldn't!?

Yet if they report abuse or complain about their treatment they are accused of wanting to change things. "They come here and try to change everything", is the cry from the haters!

1) There is NO law that insists that ALL women wear a Burqa in Saudi Arabia: Hijab is only compulsory for Muslim women. Anything else is a choice for those in a practicing Muslim family.

2) Women are not allowed to get an education in Saudi Arabia: I urge you to look up any TV broadcast from local Saudi Arabia telecasts. Women, in hijab, reading the news. This suggests an education. However, both men and women are encouraged to gain knowledge in Islam.

3) WTF does Saudi Arabia have to do with every other Muslim world wide, especially in Australia?

4) FGM (female genital mutilation) is an Islamic practice: Far from it! The Islamic religion urges that both men and women enjoy sex and that a man sexually pleases his wife. FGM is a tribal practice. However, MGM (male genital mutilation) has and still is widely practiced in Australia.

5) There is NO "no go" zones in Australia!: This urban myth was started by a female, Canadian Islamphobe. It was said to be proved when the police removed her from Lakemba for disturbing the peace. The police weren't working for the Muslims to enforce their "no go" zones! How ridiculous. Others tell totally unbelievable stories about women walking there and being spat on for not wearing hijab. Firstly, not all Muslimah wear hijab, even in Lakemba. Also there are numerous non-Muslims that go to these fabled areas to eat, visit, shop, do business, etc. This rumor is absolutely ludicrous!

6) Muslim women are oppressed, even here in Australia!: It is naive that there is no abusive people in any religion or walk of life, however, Muslimah are not oppressed as perf the usual course. Quiet the opposite! Historically, and as it is today, Muslimah have the freedom to do and be whatever they want, just like Muslim men. There is no distinction between what male and females can do. In fact, men are encouraged to wash their own clothes, cook and do housework. Also the Qur'an makes it very clear that the mother is the head of the household.

7) It is always claimed that Muslims want to change things: Yet, the question, "what have they actually changed?", goes unanswered. Muslims are required to live by the laws of the land, and as such, really don't want to change anything but the way they are treated. Especially how the women are treated. Our hero Islamphobes always target women and children because Muslimah are more recognizable.

8) Why are these people so threatened by the hijab or niqab?: For fuck sake it's a piece of material! It's not what's on a woman's head that oppresses her. However, who are those that want to oppress Muslimah? Muslim men or the Islamphobe? I say without hesitation, the Islamphobe! They don't ask a Muslim women how she feels, they don't ask what she may want to wear. They rarely comprehend the meaning of the hijab to a woman but rather try to twist it into some sexually perverse. They proclaim that Muslim women shouldn't wear a head covering. As Australia is a free country, with a freedom of religion and freedom of lawful individually, the real oppression and discrimination, is telling Muslim women what to wear.

9) Telling Muslim women what they are: The idea that, to Islamphobes, Muslim women are stupid and therefore, don't know that they are oppressed, would have to be the most Mysoginist slap in the face ever! All I can say is, "at least Muslim men know a woman's worth is awesome".

10) Muslim men marry girl babies of 5 to 6 years old and Muslim mothers allow it: Firstly, American is the place booming in child brides at the moment. With some states having no minimum age for marriage and also no divorce for women. Compared to Malaysian Clerics, years ago, raising the age of concent to 18. Also contrary to European/western/Christian culture, women have been granted divorce since the 700s in Islam.

11) Women wear the Burqa in Australia: This is actually one of those urban myths, started by Pauline Hanson. To see a Burqa in Australia would be very unusual. Most Australian Muslimah are from cultures that don't don the Burqa. The Burqa is an Afghan tradition and is very rare in Australia. Then why fight "ban the Burqa"? In one word, principle! It is against a woman's basic rights to tell her how much she can or can't wear, within the laws of public decency. There is also a security argument, as a Burqa is rarely worn that argument is rather moot.

12) Muslim men have lots of wives and children and just live on welfare: This is so silly that it's laughable. Once again, it is rare for Muslim men to have more than one wife these days as it is financially impractical. Also most Muslim men prefer one wife. In Australia, on average, the Muslim family consists of 2 children. With all this being said, usually Muslim men and women are educated and professional people. If not they strive to own businesses. The stupid welfare claims are unfounded and actually go against most Muslim traditions and cultures that have a hard work ethic.

13) They come here are get more welfare than Australians with no waiting period: This information can be researched on government websites. There is a waiting time for new Australians, Muslim or otherwise, which often means charitable families that sponsor them and take them in during this time. When they do receive any benefit, before getting on their feet, it is no more or less than anyone else.

14) They receive a thousand dollar iPhone and designer clothes as soon as they arrive: Is this one even worth answering? I just shake my head in disbelief!

15) Muslims have been Australians for generations: It amazes me how many people actually believe that no Muslim is Australian born. The history of the Islamic people in Australia predates white colonization. Islamic men from Indonesia travelled down and through Australia. There was intermarriage with the Indigenous peoples and even revertion to Islam by some. A more constant move to Australia, by those of the Islamic faith, started in the 1800's.

16) All Muslims are the same because they read from the same book: this is like saying that all Christian denominations are the same because they read from the same book. Most know that this is not the case.

There are many different varieties of Muslim. Yes they have the Qur'an yet addition books vary between the sects.

There are 72 different sects, numerous sects within the main sects, different traditions, different cultures, different regions, different regions, different countries and different families.

As for the Qur'an: there is the subject context, further context, overall context, historical context and spiritual context. Then all the different ways it is interpreted. Also interpretation can be manipulated and cherry picked to suit an agenda or bias. This can be said of the Bible also.

Where interpretation is important is in the understanding of Arabic. To translate a language as complex as Arabic into simple English leaves the meaning truly lacking.

For example: Islam is a very sexually moral religion. Men and women are not meant to sexulise each other, There is no unsupervised dating and dressing is modest. However, it is commonly thought the men will receive a bus load of virgins to have an orgy with in paradise. However, "virgin" more correctly translates to "pure". This is a "spiritual" context and "heavenly beings/angels is probably a better translation into English.

17) Muslims want to kill all Jews and Muslims. The Qur'an tells them to kill all Christians: Unfortunately people are so off the mark on this one. Islam actually says that Muslims cannot destroy a place of worship nor hurt religious "ministers". The Qur'an refers to Christians and Jews as the "people of the book". In fact, the only other women a Muslim man is permitted to marry is either a Christian or a Jew. The wives of these two religions are also not expect to revert as they are seen as sisters to Islam. Christian and Jewish men and women are thought of as brothers and sisters to Muslims.

There is a long list of urban myth, propaganda, rumors and out right lies that are used as ammunition against Islam and Muslims.

The arrogance of the Islamphobe is to tell a Muslim what their faith is! With no other religion would a person, outside that faith, verse another in their religion.

[tessatechaitea]

The Extremist #1

If you've ever really wondered how dumb I am and how much of it is an act, just watch how I completely miss the point of this series!

I wonder if Captain Kirk also felt like his entire body was coming every time he put on his captain's uniform?

The Extremist seems to be the one who punishes members of The Order who perpetrate terrible deeds. And somehow, the suit sexualizes the entire ordeal. So on December 1st, The Extremist punishes the slightly overweight man (who is actually obese because, I guess, Ted McKeever must be fat and he was all, "This guy, being slightly obese, should probably be drawn fatter than me!" That's just speculation. I mean, comic book writers are usually fat. The artists are usually hot fuckbots of raw sexuality) by stabbing him in his fat heart. Apparently people in The Order are allowed to engage in hedonistic pleasures that would be deemed immoral by members of the status quo. But even they have their limits on how far they allow their members to push the envelope. And Mr. Slightly Overweight killed two girls. So what do we know so far, kids? The Extremist is The Punisher in a gimp suit who constantly gets cum stains on the inside of the leather. The Order is a secret society where people engage in illicit sexual desires. And if you murder two girls, you'll be excommunicated from The Order (meaning you'll be killed). You might be able to get away with killing one girl but that's just speculation! The Extremist removes the suit to reveal a woman who can't stop making sexual analogies.

Maybe it's different than what you thought sex was because sex absolutely isn't stabbing a naked fat man in the heart. Okay, maybe that's a little bit like sex.

This lady walks away from the scene of the murder thinking, "I felt like The Extremist." So was she The Extremist and she was just worried that she was enjoying filling the role too much? Or is there some other Extremist she's emulating?! This would be so much easier if it were just a connect the dots puzzle. I hope you kids at home are following along. If you're not, you're pretty fucking stupid! This story isn't even complicated yet! It's just a commentary about how life is sex and sex is life and murder is sex but maybe not life and maybe not sex but somehow you'll still come in your pants! The Extremist mentions how she's doing this for Jack. She mentioned Jack earlier when she said something about him lying on the pavement outside a sushi restaurant while she said, "I dye my hair, Jack." So I guess the main story is about her and Jack. But it's going to be told in tiny snippets between her sex murders. Just like the real story in A Series of Unfortunate Events is the relationship between Lemony Snicket and Beatrice. I hope The Extremist gives us more of the real story per page than Lemony Snicket did. It was hard to remember all of the Beatrice details when he only mentioned her once like every hundred and twenty pages! Later that same night, The Extremist gets a call from Patrick (who reminds her of Jack) to go out and do some more Extremist work. She wanted to give it a rest because she's worried that the suit is taking control. So I guess it's a symbiote, right? But Patrick is all, "Come right over and don't take a shower! I want you to be all sex stanky in that thing!" The audio journal entry for that night contains the first words read in the story as a brown person's hand is seen playing one of her tapes but then rewinding it to begin the story on December 1st (as seen in the first scanned panel earlier). So that'll probably be important later! The Extremist meets with Patrick that night, mostly because he wants to fuck her. But she consents to see him because, as The Extremist, she's looking for Jack's murderer. She doesn't have a name yet so I can only refer to her as The Extremist. But that's a misnomer when she's out of the suit. Maybe we're not supposed to get to know her outside of the suit since this story is about The Extremist only and that is whoever is in the suit at the time.

She's also racist so I guess the name fits.

Beginning a racist statement with "I'm trying to be honest" doesn't mean you have to be forgiven for your racism. Maybe begin with "I'm trying to be not racist!" Oh, and then don't add a "but"! Patrick tells The Extremist a story about how Lords in Victorian England used to take in young East End girls living on the street. In return for giving them a home, they expected sexual favors. Patrick's ancestor stood up in the House of Lords to declare that it was the "inalienable right of every British Lord to find amusement among prepubescent working class girls." And then he says this:

In 1993, that may have seemed unlikely. In 2019, we're one speech away from Trump making this exact declaration and the GOP and evangelical Christians falling right in line behind him.

Patrick's point is that his ancestor was making, for the time, a conservative defense against liberal views that poverty stricken children shouldn't be preyed upon. His point is that the "extreme" position varies across time and space due to changing cultural mores. I think the real point is that conservative ideas are always fighting against changes that help to protect those preyed upon by the rich and powerful. Which means conservative ideas and values are always fucking wrong. I said always! This comic book has a lot of tits and ass. But I don't think I've seen a penis yet. Not that I've been scouring every page with a magnifying glass to find one! That's slander! When he was alive, Jack was The Extremist's husband and also The Extremist. He was cheating on The Extremist outside of The Order and his being The Extremist which I guess makes his infidelity worse. It's fine if he fucks other people in The Order or even out of The Order as long as he's currently The Extremist. But doing it out of costume and out of The Order? That's a slap in his wife's face except whatever a slap in the face is sexually. I guess sometimes it's just a slap in the face! But more often, it's probably a slap on the fanny. Yes, I meant the British fanny! On December 9th, Patrick kills himself in a game of American Roulette. That's Russian Roulette except instead of one gun and bullets added as you take turns, players choose from a pile of guns with one of them loaded with six bullets. I don't know if Peter Milligan just made that up but it's a pretty good joke if he did. At the American Roulette game, The Extremist discovers Jack's killer. How she did it isn't as good as how Sherlock Holmes solves crimes. It's not even as good as how Matlock solves crimes. It's practically not even good as how Perry Mason solves crimes where he just hounds witnesses until there's just four minutes left in the hour and somebody confesses. She just notices somebody that doesn't look like they want to fuck her and just looks frightened instead and thinks, "A-ha! That's what Patrick said I should look for! Somebody who doesn't want to fuck me!" It's a good thing I don't know anybody who was murdered because I would think that every single person I ever met killed them. The Extremist heads over to this woman's house, the woman Jack was fucking, and kills her. But first she gets her to confess! That's important because you don't want to get caught in a loop where you keep killing new people because you're unsure if you killed the murderer. That would be like a cut-rate Memento where instead of memory loss, the protagonist just suffers from mild doubt. Judy (that's her name!) quits and moves to the suburbs. She leaves The Extremist suit and her audio tapes for somebody else to find (which somebody else does! On page one! The black homeless guy, I bet!). Nope, she goes back for the suit because she's super horny. The black guy probably finds the suit in a later issue. Or maybe he's working for the FBI. After she retrieves the suit, Patrick contacts her. He faked his own death and has become Pierre. I guess he's a vampire or something. Is that too fantastical for a story like this? Up until now, it's been super realistic with the whole sex club for people who need extra drama and sex in their lives. Also how it takes place in San Francisco! Patrick gives The Extremist a letter to read which is also an offer and/or her next mission. In the letter, Pierre confesses to killing Jack. The other woman was just a shill who wanted to be killed by The Extremist after being blamed for ruining The Extremist's marriage! The Extremist decides to kill Pierre because he ruined her life. The issue ends with her and Pierre about to do battle to the death. The next issue will concentrate on Jack's story, six months previous. The Extremist #1 Rating: C-. Picture Pages! Picture Pages! Time to get your Picture Pages! Time to get your strap-ons and Rohypnol! So, kids, what did you think of our first sordid tale of sordidity? Pretend this comic book was coming out this year and I didn't know Peter Milligan was writing it. Would I purchase the next issue? Probably not. I probably only bought the second issue in 1993 because there were so many titties in this one. Porn was a lot harder to come by in 1993! Other than the titties, I'm not sure I understand the point of this story yet. Is it about what people will do when they're pushed to the extreme? How far will a mousy wife who was shocked at doing sex on top go when she finds her husband has cheated on her and he's been murdered?! Or maybe it's about how we are the clothes we wear. Judy only loves to fuck and murder when she's in The Extremist's gimp suit. It's like that scene in Fire Walk With Me when Donna ties Laura's sweater around her waist and then starts fucking guys like crazy. Then Laura notices and is all, "Don't wear my clothes! Never wear my clothes, you dumb slut! Wait, who are you? Are you sure you're Donna? What happened to Lara?!" Sometimes I put a sock on my dick and then I'm all, "I'm a rock star! Look at me, mom!" I mean, I don't actually try to get my mom to look at me! That's just something I've heard people tend to say when they feel proud of themselves.

[pinkchaosart]

In response to Mr. Prager

If you haven’t seen it, this is the video that this essay is in response to

So, obviously I disagree with this video. Let’s go through it: welcome to my ted talk.

1. Universities - First of all, let’s get this out of the way: just because one professor has an opinion about his school becoming a “laughing stock,” doesn’t mean that all education is going down the tubes. In reality, more people of colour and women are being educated than ever before. Kids are graduating high school more than ever, and education is more accessible than ever, at least according to the National Centre for Education Statistics. I don’t know if Mr. Prager has ever been to a modern, public university, but the only people that shut down vs debate are people who are not open to new ideas, who feel overwhelmed and persecuted because their opinion isn’t the only one in the school. Also, Christopher Columbus (pictured in the video as a pillar of education) was a genocidal lunatic. He murdered the Tainos people, didn’t discover America, and didn’t prove the earth was round. Go read about that.

2. The Arts - “The primary purpose of art was to elevate people.” I don’t know if there is a single time in human history when this stands true. This is a topic I’ve personally studied and so I’m going to tell you that, for most of human history, the primary purpose of art was for the rich to show off their money. Portraits were paid for by wealthy people to immortalize themselves. Selfie culture who? I also want to point out that, in the animation in the video, an example of “classic art” given is a painting by Monet, a modern artist who’s work was seen as shocking at the time due to it’s non-photorealism. The only reason we see it as beautiful now is because of time and the art prestige classifying it as such. I would also like to point out that the urinal in the next bit of the video was actually “made” around the same point in time. By no means is it something anyone would consider a current piece of art. I would also like to point out that Mr. Prager is being a hypocrite here, employing the imagery of “urine and feces” for shock value, the very thing he had just criticized. Pablo Picasso said, “What do you think an artist is? ...he is a political being, constantly aware of the heart breaking, passionate, or delightful things that happen in the world, shaping himself completely in their image. Painting is not done to decorate apartments. It is an instrument of war.” Art isn’t for beauty, it’s all politics, war, sex and money.

3. Literature - “The English department of the university of Pennsylvania replaced the portrait of the greatest English writer who ever lived, William Shakespeare, with a picture of a black lesbian poet.” Yes they did, and that poet’s name is Audre Lorde. First, William Shakespeare’s work is not prestigious. His work was not considered refined when it was produced. It’s full of lewd and ridiculous jokes. “Much ado about nothing” roughly translates to “everyone wants the pussy”. “Nothing” was slang back then for vagina. But let’s go back to Lorde. Mr. Prager said that they replaced Shakespeare with her because they value diversity over excellence. What he’s implying is that Lorde is not worth revering, despite being a very important writer of her time, five thousand times more serious than Shakespeare ever was, and her writings are much deeper than Prager gives her credit for. In fact, he gave her no credit, didn’t even say her name.

4. Late-night television - “In America, late-night shows were completely apolitical” This is completely wrong. Late night TV started in the 1940-50’s, and often they were based on politically charged comedy, just like they are now.

5. Religion - “In many churches and synagogues, one is more likely to hear the clergy talk about political issues than about any other subject, including the Bible.” First of all, I would like to point out that political issues were what Jesus mostly talked about. “Love your neighbour” was a direct comment at the racism Jews experienced and held towards others. “Turn the other cheek” was about how to make your aggressor look like a total jerk. What is the point of church if not to give people usable tools in our modern world? That’s what Jesus did. I would also like to point out that, again, this is Prager’s opinion, and it’s clear what kind of content he thinks should be taught.

6. Freedom of Speech: “Yet the whole point of free speech is that it allows people to express any political or social position, including what any one of us considers hate speech.” Except that it doesn’t. Freedom of speech is described: “everyone shall have the right to hold opinions without interference” by the International Human Rights Law, but it also states that the rights carry “special duties and responsibilities” and are “therefore ....subject to certain restrictions ... for respect of the rights or reputation of others ....or the protection of national security of public order or of public health or morals.” Freedom of speech is not absolute, and common boundaries are hate speech, food labeling, pornography, obscenity, slander, copyrights, etc. I would also like to point out that him arguing to be allowed to use hateful words is pointing out the obvious: that he hates us, ie: people that he describes in or agrees with this video.

7. Race - “America has become the least racist multiracial society in world history” ding dong, this is so unbelievably wrong. Let’s talk about “systemic racism” for a minute. This isn’t some “angry diatribe,” but a legitimate and historically accurate concern. It is a form of racism expressed in the practice of social and political institutions, reflected in disparities regarding wealth, income, criminal justice, employment, housing, health care, political power, and education, among others. It is a reality that millions of North Americans (yes, Canada’s not clean on this issue) experience daily. For example, Caucasian people and black people consume the same amount of pot on a national scale. Black people are way more likely to be arrested and receive convictions for it. In America, once you receive a criminal conviction, you are no longer able to vote. So even though equal amounts of white and black people use marijuana, black people are arrested and convicted (and therefore cannot vote) because of a system designed to take away their voice. Let’s also touch on the “red lining” from a half-century ago which allowed banks to not lend money to people of colour which created ghettos, which is now home to an overwhelmingly poor and coloured population. That’s systemic oppression and it has been going on for decades. Mr. Prager is the epitome of White Privilege. I’m as white as he is and even I can see that this man hasn’t had to question his good fortune a day in his life and instead chooses to blame others for not “working hard enough” even though they’ve worked harder than he ever has.

8. The Boy Scouts - “They’re not even the Boy Scouts anymore, they’re just the Scouts. The left forced them to admit girls” - So? “The Boy Scouts have helped shape tens of millions of boys into independent and strong good men.” Okay, so wouldn’t you want your girls to grow up strong and independent? How is adding MORE PARTICIPANTS destroying the Scouts exactly?

9. Male-Female - “In New York City, parents do not have to select male or female on a newborn’s birth certificate.” Again, so what? How is that going to affect anyone other than that family. Also, designations of gender at birth on a certificate aren’t set in stone, they can be changed later. It’s not a big deal. Allowing a child to grow up unrestricted in gender norms, won’t create confused people. Letting your boys play with dolls isn’t going to make them want to be a girl, and letting your daughter roll around in the dirt won’t make her a lesbian. Mass confusion doesn’t just happen because of an “x” on a birth certificate.

“America is only bad compared to Utopia.” No, America is bad in comparison to most other first-world countries. The only thing that America excels in is making war. It spends billions of dollars occupying other countries while its people can’t afford health care, food, education, and other basic human rights.

What i find really interesting about this video is that it is completely his opinion. There’s no facts or sources given, he’s chosen his quotes very carefully (even taken them out of context), and I have to conclude that a video like this is only meant to drive the “us vs them” mentality. At it’s best this philosophy is unhealthy, at it’s worst it can kill millions of people and has started countless wars. Mr. Prager isn’t well-educated on most of what he’s talked about. He has an undergraduate in Middle Eastern Studies. Everything else he’s studied appears to be related to orthodox religions. He hasn’t done his research, got some of the most basic ideas completely wrong, and nobody should be listening to a word he has to say on any of the topics he’s talked about in this video.

As someone who used to go to a radical church and was part of the “us vs them” mentality for a number of years, I know that my words aren’t going to change many people’s minds. But what I will say is that we have more in common than we have differences. He said he wants us to debate, so here’s a rebuttal. You can have your opinion but only if you can defend it (not using religious texts). Videos like this are just dividing our culture even more than it already is. My uncle referred to “leftists” as vultures. How awful is that? To dehumanize people so extremely is a great first step to calling for their destruction.

Just ask your German Jewish friends, Mr. Prager.

[talkfastcal]

i love being a collector btw<3<3

[classicalafros67]

On Why I Refuse to Talk to My Grandmother

This is not meant to be educational. This is not meant to slander my grandmother. This is only meant to be therapeutic – a way to organize my thoughts and release my emotions in a healthy way. I want to note, before I begin, that I am talking to my grandmother, but only out of necessity, for logistical and business reasons, until we come up with a recompense or I have to cut her out of my life altogether. I’m not even sure that I am going to share this, but I still wanted to write it, so maybe for a time, my anger, bitterness and disappointment can be placed elsewhere.

Recently, I wrote this piece, didn’t really share, but I didn’t finish it either on an example of how my grandmother has treated me and continues to treats me.

“I feel like I’m a pretty outspoken person when it comes to talking about gender expression, sexuality, gender, feminism and activism, EXCEPT when it comes to my family. Living all as a queer and gender non-conforming African-American, living with ones (loosely) religious, judgmental and controlling family members is anything but easy. In fact, it’s fucking hard as hell, and I’m pretty sure it’s the base of all of my mental illnesses. I’ve grown up to be silent and speak when spoken to. I believe that my guardian (grandmother) believes that she must rule with an iron fist and control and repair me at any cost, so I can be properly digestible for society. As I’ve grown older, I’ve begun to heavily resent her as these repairs and plays for control are disguised as concern and unconditional love. Recently, it has gotten pretty rough between us. I resent having to go home, so I go out as often as possible either spending the night with my friends or my boyfriend in the city.

One of her plans to repair me (and by repair, I mean “masc me up”) was foiled this week when I spent most of it in the city with my boyfriend in order to get away from her. The car that we are currently sharing got a majorly avoidable flat tire. I agreed to help pay for a new tire, but she wanted me to watch the tire get changed?? I could always google, but, hey, what do I know I guess? So, like always, she got upset that I had not come home, (mind you, I am 22 years old, recently graduated from college, and working multiple jobs to move out of there) and had started calling up a storm and MARKING all of the locations I was at. (She forced me to get this app on my phone where she can track me. Again, I am 22 years old.) I eventually went home because she was holding the car hostage and refusing to get it fixed until I came back, knowing that I needed it to get to work.

She tells me that we need to talk, but every time I attempt to talk to her about anything heavy, my sexuality, how I express myself, gender expression, ect., it turns into her talking at me and justifying, for herself, how she feels and why she acts a certain way. I have always been bad at having these conversations with family, but I am tired of the way my grandmother treats me. I haven’t been talking to her for the past couple of days because I refuse to go to business as normal and move on like nothing is going on, and I’ve been making a list of reasons why I’m upset with her which has become… extensive.

This list is disorganized and mostly just the tip of an iceberg talking point that we need to settle. It overall encompasses her disguising her homophobia, embarrassment and desire to control and socialize me (i.e. other toxic behaviors) as concern and unconditional love. Her forcing me to get an app that allows her to track and mark everywhere I go is her ploy to keep me under control, yet she disguises this as a way for her to let me know that she is home when I could careless, and she ignores that I am old enough to go where I damn please, don’t do drugs, don’t smoke, don’t party, but “there is too much going on in the world right now, I just need to know where you are.” Ask me… This will also lead me to my next point on how I express myself. I like, no, I fucking love makeup. My fashion sense, as I’ve mentioned before extends from dad to literal queen mom. If I want to wear a suit, I’ll wear a suit, if I want to wear a dad outfit, I’ll work that. If I want to wear sweats all day, girl yes. If I want to wear high heels and a floral top, I will WORK that. And if I want to wear makeup with any of those outfits, I WILL! Can you guess which one grandma absolutely hates? She’s horrible at addressing things too, so she gets passive aggressive. She always has a snide comment about what I wear or my makeup and “how bad it is for [my] face.” Even today, she looked at my Facebook and demanded me to take down my cover and profile picture because I’m wearing a full face of makeup and a floral shirt and my cover photo is the pride flag with the male, female, and intersex signs. It got to the point where I blocked her because I can’t mentally handle all the controlling.

I don’t know. I think I just want her to admit that she’s embarrassed of me if nothing else, recognize that I’m only living here circumstantially, that I am still an adult that she can’t/shouldn’t try to control, and that we should really learn to live with each other.”

We did eventually sit down in the kitchen one late night as I returned home and attempted to express how I felt. I wanted the conversation to be an eye opener for her that she couldn’t police how a grown person could express themselves be it online or in real life. Instead, it turned into an interrogation about, “who molested you?” “where did we go wrong?” and fake tolerance. I just ended up having to face my grandmother, someone who I had deeply respected and revered, someone who helped me through college and through life when I moved out of my father’s house, express her homophobia and internalized misogyny towards me in words disguised as concern and worry.

“Why are you wearing makeup?”

“Boys don’t wear makeup”

“I thought you were doing it to get back at your daddy”

“I’m getting a handle on the whole gay thing. I’m getting a handle on the fact that one day you’re gonna bring a man home. But, now, this makeup is too much! And the clothes you’re wearing. And you’re growing out your hair…”

These are some of the words that were shared with me on that night. It has been a couple of weeks and the conversation still rings in my head back and forth. There are so many petty rebuttals I both wish, but am glad that I didn’t, say. I understand that you care so much about the products I buy and put on my face. I understand that the rules to this binary society so strongly holds on to and polices how one performs their assigned sex at birth. I understand that with that in mind that anything outside that expectation is therefore repaired, most commonly through violence. I especially understand the fragility of masculinity and how anything that easily breaks that line is met with violence.

But I also wish that my grandmother knew that she was and is inciting the violence that she’s afraid will be inflicted on me. Violence isn’t just physical. She understands that as my grandmother, she has a power of influence over me, but instead of using this power and seemingly unconditional love as a force for good, a force to uplift the grandchild and encourage them to be themselves unapologetically while advocating for a better and more accepting world to others, she uses this power to police, criticize and repair my expression, my sexuality, my identity.

Imagine the mental, emotional and psychological damage that inflicts on someone. Every article of clothing you wear – judged. The shoes you wear – judged. Growing, styling or curling your hair – judged. How you talk – judged. What you talk about – judged. Every little thing about you – judged and threatened with getting kicked out of the residence you live in.

“Well, as long as you live under my roof, I don’t want you wearing makeup or girl’s clothes.”

All of this violence inflicted, while the attacker continues to pretend that there is nothing wrong with the relationship, and sweeps everything under a giant rug. This violence which affects so many other queer youths. To tell you how bad it is, I have contemplated being homeless, even at VERY low times suicide, just to be away from her. This is horrible considering that despite the violence, I will love my grandmother no matter what, I would like to mend our relationship, and I feel so guilty for feeling that way. But I cannot possibly see that happening until she magically addresses her own problems and stop projecting her societal desires onto me and my siblings.

So, for now, until I am in a financial position to move out and never come back, I refuse to talk to her unless absolutely necessary. I refuse to pretend to be her friend. I refuse to pretend I can tolerate her being around me. I refuse to pretend that I’m not purposefully avoiding her as much as I can. I refuse to let her involve herself into my life for her to gossip and disapprove. I refuse to let that toxicity invade my life again, and I shall seek help and refuge where I can in continuing therapy and being with the family and friends who accept me and love me for exactly as I am.

Postscript—

I think in terms of making this a discussion, because I could use advice on how else I can move forward. Am I missing something in this situation? I’ve talked about this several times in real life with friends and family, and I keep getting the same answers — “She’s just worried about” “She’s stuck in her ways” “She’s your grandmother, she’s supposed to act that way” But I call absolute bullshit. People can change at ANY age from ANY era, and this situation, I feel is WAY more nuanced than her being worried about me. I’d rather her not die a bigot, so I want to open up ways that I can have discourse with her and show her tools to learn more about the LGBTQIA community.

[healthgnome]

Dear, Isaiah because it’s come to my attention.

It has come to my attention that the past back-and-forth of abuse accusations have been slowly resurrected and I see now that it is certainly within my time to once more explain my side. I truly wish not to be slandered and lied about on such a big platform and I wish the same for my friends, Ryan and Zayne. I genuinely try very much to be a decent, good, and helpful person. Sometimes I slip up as anyone would but I certainly know that I would never try and genuinely bully or hurt someone. For any time I might have joined in on some fun-making - trying not to go overboard and apologizing if I did end up actually hurting- I once again of course apologize for that. I go with the flow of how I think a dynamic is working and sometimes a dynamic does involve some making fun meant in no big harm. A prime example of such would be the friendships between Mark (Markiplier), Bob (Muyskerm), and Wade (LordMinion777). Where it is within understanding that they are all good friends but Wade gets the brunt of a lot of jokes. Any time there is sincere hurt, not that we have seen- but I guarantee there would be apology.

In Any Case, now that that introduction is out of the way I shall diffuse all that has been said in a post made by former friend Isaiah AKA (currently) @for-abused-kids about myself, Zayne (@thevvytchbytch) and Ryan (@literallyrealdeadstuff).

Not one of us have “stalked” your blog on a daily to find out if you have talked shit. If you mean during that whole giant commotion, sure there was a lot of digging in order to actually provide evidence for the claims we make. After that? Maybe checked out some posts to make sure there wasn’t still any sort of slander on any of our names, or we were informed of such a thing taking place. And yes, you have had their name(s) and mine on your blog in a “talking shit” kind of way.

We did not go to your house after dark, how would you know if you weren’t there. That is assumption. (and you know what they say lol) And a letter was written to your parents coming from a place of concern and explanation. I had not wished any abuse on you to happen.

As well, you are repeatedly saying that we lied to your mother telling her you ripped up the note. It was not meant to be a lie or anything of the sort, we simply had no contact and therefore wanted to make sure the note was actually read.

Hmm. I would really like to point out though that you claim that Zayne had the audacity to go to your home and deliver this note with someone who stole from your home while at the hospital. Do not act like you are not leaving out very important parts to this statement, and that the counterpart, leader, truest perpetrator, and manipulator to this was someone mentioned throughout this letter.

There was a lot of yelling between yourself and Zayne. A lot of it was not meant in harm, which was understood at least eventually; a lot of it was out of anger because something had happened, was done, or was said. And there was a lot of back and forth.

Allan was a friend of all of us for a while until he was slowly let go from all of us because he is a bad person. Personally, I stayed friends because my really fucked up brain could not handle being any more alone than I already was. You had liked him for a long time. Told us about it, or when certain things may have happened; sometimes these feelings went away (which is normal), and sometimes they were strong. I can provide proof for this too. Yes he was an awful person, and I was usually on your side when he did bully you. I did exclaim, and of course I understand how feelings work, that perhaps not being friends would be a good idea. I also told Allan this countless times but he enjoyed messing with you and I am not him nor could I control his actions.

The competition? There was a small friendly barely-a-competition thing going on in regards with Zayne. And it had barely lasted as well. At least from what I understood.

Ah yes the cum stains things. We used the word cum out of what we thought would be respect for your identifying away from femininity. Just as we would use the word “dick” or any variations thereof rather than vagina when referring to most of us and genitalia. Which sounds gross to say but we are teens, most of us horny, most everyone on T, genitals were a common point of discussion. And yes, you did leave vaginal discharge stains, or cum stains or whatever you feel most comfortable calling it, on the futon. And this is a pretty normal thing from what I know. People “get wet” and people have sexual liquids. It be like that.

From what I, and many others know, you do talk to a lot of people, including children, about your trauma.

I don’t remember you purposely triggering Zayne with Ed Sheehan, you did not have control anyway; Allan was the controller and was persistent on having that song on. However, you have attempted to physically hurt Zayne when you punched them. It did not actually hurt because it was frankly weak (not that I could do much better). What next you’re referring to after this is that Zayne was allowed by yourself to punch back; they simply know how to and are stronger than they appear.

Oh god. The Asian thing. That’s a huge bag on it’s own and has been talked about previously, you want more info on this or another post? Talk to me. Here is a link to a post with a bunch of evidence of this and other things & here is a link to a quick post by Ryan. There will also be a couple of photos at the end of this. But simply, Isaiah, your evidence was hardly; you have very white features, two very white parents, and have never presented otherwise, this coming from a very white person.

Congruently, have you seen Ryan or a picture of him recently? He has anything but thin lips. If you’d care for an example of thin, look at me. His hair is quite thick, has varying curls throughout as has been complained about and explained in the past. As well, it does deeply tangle itself if not taken care of daily. I, on the other hand never brush my hair- at the same length- and it barely gets more than a little disheveled. There is evidence of all of this. He does not at all have a small nose. Whilst not the darkest person, the summer provides a pretty good tan, more so in his youth. His father is actually not white- which is a known fact rather than a guess. If he is at least a quarter black, and has those features, I think it’s fair for him to claim that he is mixed on a hookup/dating app.

Oh, and I am quite aware of all of the arguments you’ve had about your father and his heritage. It’s what sparked that one post about the “Native American” 80’s/90s festival necklace. Which was a genuinely funny incident if you look back on it.

I have heard varying things to do with you imagining sex with anyone you are friends with. Just as I have heard varying statements about a lot of things that you exclaim to have or currently happen in your life.

We have called you straight as you have called yourself straight or straight-passing because of the fact that you were or are masc-aligned and would now prefer to date fem-aligned individuals due to trauma. But considering you are not mono-attracted to only men/masculine leaning individuals, you are not completely gay either. So if you can call yourself one you can essentially call yourself the other since you seem to be comfortable enough doing so. (I’ve recently seen a word to use for nonbinary-straight attraction! it’s “strayt”; similarly, there is “gai.” I bring these up not to make-fun or cause harm but they may be useful to you.)

In regards to Ingrid, as far as you have spoken to us and as we have seen, you have changed what you claim to have identified as whilst dating her. From secretly trans, to a cis girl, to questioning (not in this order, necessarily). Regardless, for many reasons it seems as though this was an unhealthy relationship.

You have taken stories right out of others lives and claimed them to be your own, these would be delusions, dear, not hallucinations. And it is at least a possibility that a lot of other things are delusions, too. This coming from someone who has had experiences with some sort of psychosis, delusions, hallucinations, gas lighting (from yourself, Isaiah. as well as from others.) and other such things that I can explain more if asked. And there is evidence of this all, as well.

I have never been abused by my parents. They are wonderful individuals who also try to be good, decent people. They have taken in my friends (including you, Isaiah) and done a lot to help them in times of abuse and need as well. That being said, there can be, from what I’ve seen, varying degrees and methodologies of abuse that different groups take part in. They are all horrific and I absolutely, full-heartedly, condemn all of it. But that is a fact given by apparent evidence. This being said, your parents have Not admitted to doing all of this, at least not to yourself, but to your sisters. I am genuinely curious as to why, if they’d admit doing harm to them both to you and in writing, why would they not come through with all of this to yourself?

On this topic, Stockholm syndrome, while something truly awful, is a kidnap-specific symptom. You can google how it affects others, but those websites are a lot less trust-worthy. We both went through the Hell of the junior research project and you are an academically intelligent person, you should be able to tell the difference between a trustworthy site and an untrustworthy one.

As far as your gender, speculations have been made based upon a lot of things you have said, and some seeming fetishization of nonbinary people. This is not said to invalidate your feelings or anyone else’s for that matter. It is simply that you are a rightfully suspicious individual. Again, this coming from trans people both binary and non- alike.

Regarding what I’m pretty sure is the video of you sitting on my legs, Isaiah, I don’t remember if there was an apology (whether or not in the video) but this wouldn’t be the first or last time something like this had occurred.

Finally, you have abused me. You have done me harm and I now understand that. I have tried to do a lot for you but you have done a lot to and taken advantage of me and my mental state. 

Once again here is a link to a post with A Lot of evidence. Want more? Contact me.

As always, best regards to your mental health,

former friend, Alana.

PS; Please, for the love of everything, do stop misgendering Zayne and use *their* correct pronouns ( they / them ) !

The photo below contains obviously curly hair, not-at-all thin lips, a not-at-all small nose, etc. You can see.

[impressivepress]

Eisenstein in Mexico

Another farcical delay ensued when the district governor insisted on meeting the visitor, under the impression that he was Albert Einstein. Once that was cleared up, they moved south into the tropical heat of Tehuantepec, where Alexandrov and Tisse fell ill and Eisenstein underwent something like a religious epiphany.

It was not that my consciousness and emotions absorbed the blood and sand of the gory corrida, the heady sensuality of the tropics, the asceticism of the flagellant monks, the purple and gold of Catholicism, or even the cosmic timelessness of the Aztec pyramids: on the contrary, the whole complex of emotions and traits that characterize me extended infinitely beyond me to become an entire, vast country with mountains, forest, cathedrals, people, fruit, wild animals, breakers, herds, armies, decorated prelates, majolica on blue cupolas, necklaces made of gold coins worn by the girls of Tehuantepec and the play of reflections in the canals of Xochimilco.

Besotted with his surroundings, he was in no hurry to finish his work. He was contracted to deliver a film in four months, but three months passed before he shot the first frame. When shooting finally began, Eisenstein had to cope with the problem of being far from any technical facilities; because they could not be sure that every "take" was usable, Tisse shot most of them twice. The rushes were forwarded to [Upton] Sinclair in Hollywood for processing. Sinclair's first reaction was wild enthusiasm. He wrote the Mexican foreign minister in April 1931 that they were "gorgeous beyond all telling," but eventually he began to fret as more and more reels arrived --- each negative subject to an import tax --- for a film that could not be marketed because it did not yet have a title or story line. Soon the batches of copious, unsellable film came accompanied by requests from Eisenstein for more money and self-pitying complaints from Mary Sinclair's spoiled, sheltered brother. Upton Sinclair would later claim that Hunter Kimbrough had not known that homosexuals existed until he met Eisenstein. After nine months together in the Mexican heat, he had evidently learned something, because a plaintive message charged not only that Eisenstein was arrogant, egotistical, and careless with other people's money but also that "many people here, including myself, think he is some kind of pervert."

Sinclair must have shown this letter to someone at Amkino, the Soviet company that exported and imported films from and to the United States, which meant that its allegations were fed back to Moscow. Eisenstein in turn heard about it and fired off a riposte, his anger clear from the erratic spelling.

I am sorry to mention that most of the time in lesser or greater degree Hunter is drunk, which absolutely disenables me to do things with him. This item by itself is a question of very big financial importance. . . . Besides costs on licors etc., entertainings (10% of which might be of use for the picture!), parties, girls and other pleasures which go ahead with it and constitute many a heavy and entirely useless bill, the thing ruinously affects any business movements. . . . At the actual moment all my personal contact with Hunter has seased --- I think it quite natural after his declaring that he considers me a dishonest person and my behavior towards you as blackmailing. (You understand very well these statements cannot affect me when said by a person who was put in jail in Merida for public indecency in a bordello, after a wild adventure with throwing whores in the swimming pool).

Mary Sinclair soon wished that she had never met Eisenstein. Her harassed husband wrote to Gosizdat, the state publishing house in Moscow, asking to be paid $25,000 out of the royalties he was owed for the sales of his novels in the USSR, promising that every cent would go into Eisenstein's project. Without his knowing it, this letter landed Eisenstein in serious trouble. No one at Gosizdat would have dared release so large a sum of foreign currency without referring the matter upward. The request went all the way up to the supreme authority, the Politburo, who --- with Stalin absent on holiday in the south --- shifted the decision to the second most important committee in the land, the Orgburo, who in turn decided to do nothing except delegate the head of Agitprop to send Eisenstein a summons ordering him to return to the USSR. Stalin was informed while he was still on holiday and smelled treachery. Though he could not remember Eisenstein's name accurately, he instantly detected a plot to extract money from the Soviet state to fund a new life abroad. He warned his deputy Lazar Kaganovich, "The American writer Sinclair has written a letter where he asks for support for some enterprise launched by Sinclair and Aizensteid [sic] ('our' well known film maker who fled from the USSR, a Trotskyite if not worse). Apparently Aizensteid wants to hoodwink us through Sinclair. In short, the whole thing smells fishy."

Eisenstein did not know it yet, but whatever chance he still had of finishing the film over which he had lingered so lovingly was already lost. Only distance and poor communications kept him in happy ignorance. After about three months, a telegram from Stalin arrived at the Sinclairs' Pasadena home:

Eisenstein loose [sic] his comrades confidence in Soviet Union. He is thought to be deserter who broke off with his own country. Am afraid the people here would have no interest in him soon. Am very sorry but all assert it is the fact. Wish you to be well and to fulfil your plan of coming to see us. My regards, Stalin.

Sinclair's immediate reaction was to rise honorably to Eisenstein's defense. He replied with a long letter asserting that neither he nor anyone else who had worked with Eisenstein had ever heard him utter a disloyal word about the Soviet Union, that the delays in Mexico were not Eisenstein's fault, and that there was no risk of his defecting. He also withheld news of the telegram from the crew in Mexico, hoping that Eisenstein would come back quickly with a marketable film.

In December, the Politburo discussed Eisenstein again and reprimanded the officials responsible for allowing resources to be squandered on his project. A few days later Sinclair was summoned by telegram to New York for a meeting with Soviet officials, but he pleaded that he was too ill to travel.

Finally, in January 1932, Sinclair gave up, cut off Eisenstein's money supply, and left him with no choice but to say good-bye to Mexico. Eisenstein decided to play a valedictory prank on Kimbrough, using hundreds of drawings he had made while he was in Mexico. He put the drawings at the top of his trunk, where they would be seen by anyone who opened it, and then asked Kimbrough to take the trunk back to the United States. It was opened at the Texas border, where customs officers discovered a vast collection of sacrilegious and homoerotic images, including a drawing of Christ on the cross, his penis extended to the length of a hose with its end in the mouth of one of the thieves.

Even if the tiresome Kimbrough had earned this humiliation, it was a foolish and self-defeating stunt, one that permanently turned Upton Sinclair against Eisenstein. After months of defending him against all his accusers, the novelist wrote a long, angry letter to the new head of Amkino, describing the incident at the border and implying that Eisenstein might, after all, be a potential defector, as Stalin had suspected. "Of course, if he does not want to go back to Russia, nobody wants to make him go. All we are saying is that we shall never see him again, nor deal with him in any way," he wrote. His anger was still hot when, years later, Sinclair spoke to Eisenstein's biographer Marie Seton: "We realized that he was simply staying in Mexico at our expense in order to avoid having to go back to Russia. All his associates were Trotskyites, and all homos. Men of that sort stick together. . . . I had come to realize that Eisenstein was a man without faith or honor, or regard for any person but himself."

Eisenstein paid another, more painful price for his folly at the Texas border. He hoped to recover the rushes from his uncompleted film, now titled Qué Viva Mexico, and edit them in Moscow, but Sinclair refused to hand them over unless he was paid at least $50,000 to recoup what he and his wife had lost on the project. The Soviet authorities had no intention of paying a cent. Sinclair tried a direct appeal to Stalin by telegram, in which he accused Eisenstein of "shameless conduct, slanders, misrepresentations, intrigues," but it accomplished nothing. Eisenstein's work was then cut and edited without his permission, and released in 1933 as Thunder over Mexico, with Eisenstein credited as the director. Seven years later, it was turned into another film, Time in the Sun. In the 1950s, Upton Sinclair handed all the unedited material over to New York's Museum of Modern Art, which in turn passed it to the USSR the following decade. In 1979 Alexandrov produced a Version as close as possible to Eisenstein's intention. By then, Eisenstein was long dead, having spent many years mourning his lost creation.

[everlarkingjoshifer]

So I wrote a letter and I would like to share it with you all!

Mr. Trump,

My name is Cinthia Zuniga. I am writing to you today to inform you why I do not and will never support you. I will not support your Cabinet, who who are composed of xenophobic, sexist, white supremacists.

You see, Mr. Trump. I am a woman, a feminist who will fight for the rights of every human being, I will continue the fight that many Americans started back in the late 19th century. The goal that we still continue to strive for, despite the years of abuse, disrespect, and blatant ignorance that people like yourself and the GOP have heaped upon us for decades. Planned Parenthood will continue to strive to help serve women like myself who have seen or lived through sexually transmitted diseases, teen pregnancies, unsafe abortion methods, and illnesses that have manifested themselves in the form of cancer, among others. We will continue to fight for our lives and the lives of our future children, who hopefully will not perished because of your ineptitude and misinformation.

I will continue to fight because I am also a former undocumented immigrant from Peru who was greeted by Lady Liberty at the age of six. I did not come here to steal jobs or to take opportunities. When I was born, I was deemed a blue baby, a term used to describe a child born with a severe cardiac malformation. If my father had not brought me to the United States, I would not have survived childhood. I did not have the chance to enjoy childhood as any normal kid would. I tired easily and have been on the brink of death on many occasions. I was not even allowed to cry for fear of tiring myself to death. I came under dire circumstances, and yes, I am fully aware that it was an indiscretion on my father’s part to allow me to stay. However, he could not bear the pain of parting from me any more than you can separate yourself from your family. Such was his love, that he threw caution to the wind and committed what you would call a crime. You see, Mr. Trump I am my father’s only surviving daughter. My father could not bear the pain of not watching his only daughter grow up, he also could not tolerate the thought of his daughter growing up in a world of extreme poverty. We did not grow in a grand house. We have never had the chance to borrow the small sum of a million dollars to begin anything anywhere. Our only chance was a sponsorship from a brother which allowed my father to travel to the United States.

As I grew older, Iwas made aware of my immigrant situation. I took steps into rectifying my then illegal status. I proceeded to become a resident while still paying taxes. I worked jobs you wouldn’t even think about in your wildest dreams. I was paid very poorly and worked long hours only to be fired, not because I was a bad employee but because I had no way of backing up my status here. So yes, Mr. Trump. You may call us lazy criminals, killers, rapists, but we have consistently shown you that we are not any of those things. After all, you could verify the amount of immigrants who have tirelessly worked for you, only for you to rip us off. We have gardened your yards, we have taken care of your children, we have been your maids, your construction workers, your custodians, and even your factory workers.We have helped make America a flourishing democracy and in return, you have ravaged our image to your heart's content. We do not glorify our uncertain circumstances, but we are and will continue to be proud of our heritage with and hold our heads high with dignity.

I will continue to fight you and those who have backed you relentlessly because I have a child with special needs and the fact that you mocked and ridiculed a man with special needs appalled me to no end. Is this what I’m expected to look forward to now that you’re in office? To have my child relegated as an object merely to be made fun of? I absolutely refuse to treat my child like an object. She is the greatest gift and joy that life could have ever afforded me. She is a seven year old little girl, who happens to be autistic. She is and has always been a sweet girl who greets anyone she meets with a generous smile. I hope you will not have to face the unpredictability of having a special needs person in your life. They would not only feel ridiculed and isolated, but powerless and attacked. Special needs people are not idiots. They do not need to be mocked for you to feel grand, to earn the false respect that has been given to you.

Every start of the month, I receive help from the state as a result to my daughter’s condition. I do not spend the money on needless things. I do not even spend it on myself. That money is reserved for food and clothes and sometimes any small gift that can challenge my daughter’s intellectuality. My husband and I cannot afford to live as comfortably as we would like. We’re not even middle class, and before you can refute my reasons, I would like to add that I am a stay at home mom. I do not choose to be so simply because I enjoy it. It is not something I should do because I’m a woman who should stay at home while the man works. This is not the 1950’s. I choose to stay because I want to be present for whatever situation might arise concerning my daughter, good or bad. Mr. Trump. I hope with a very pessimistic heart that you understand the love I have for my child as you would have for your own children. You rejoice in their successes and weep at their misery. I want only to provide a good and happy life for her and her children should she choose to have kids.

I cannot in good conscience accept you or your cabinet because I refuse to accept a sexist xenophobe as the man in charge of this country. I do not revel in the many, many accusations heaped upon you. It would be like inviting Bill Cosby for a cup of tea while alone in my house. I cannot respect your blatant sexism towards women. You cannot come to me and call me a pig when it was you who has forced yourself unto unwilling, unsuspecting victims. Like them, I feel the utter helplessness and fear. I understand the way it feels to have your dignity violently taken away because of your monetary power. We are not objects, Mr. Trump. We cannot be given a score of 1 to 10 on attractiveness. We will not accept you walking into a dressing room full of underage, naked girls. We cannot and will not accept you disrespecting a woman who has gracefully run against you. If she is a nasty woman, then consider me a nasty woman who will do anything and everything in her power to discredit and sully you every chance I get.

Finally Mr. Trump I don’t consider you my President simply because I am a pagan. Like my Muslim brothers and sisters, I am not afraid of being diffferent. I refuse to be cowed for my beliefs. My husband stands with me shoulder to shoulder as an atheist because we believe that we reserve the right to worship whoever and however we please, or not to worship, if we choose. We are not the terrorists, Mr. Trump. Those you fear so much and so often are those who back your claims. Ever since 9/11, the Muslim community has been vilified and persecuted. They have suffered countless injustices under the name of your Christian god. It reminds me of the the what I read about the Holocaust and the man who persecuted and vilified Jewish people. He put the blame of a decimated and broken society on the back of Jews. He gave false and erroneous hope to the people who felt they were handed a terrible card by Fate, and also by those too rich to care. A few of course were sensible enough to ignore the wrongful edicts that were being fed through the radio and television; just as you have used today’s social media, and the entertainment industry to spew you slanderous hatred. Some were desperate for an easy way out, thereby ignoring unethical, disgusting, and downright cruel punishments in the name of a God and money. I am not here to discuss my thought and ideas on faith and religion, although you can clearly see my point of view on the matter. I am here to tell you that if I can enjoy the kind words of the Presbyterian man who was known as Mr. Rogers, be in awe of the strength of a Methodist woman who ran against you, respect a Jewish 75 year old man from New York then you are capable of stepping back and allowing people to worship as they see fit. After all, extremists come in all religions and backgrounds.

Speaking about white supremacy, I would like to add that I fully and completely support everything they are against. I do believe that Black Lives Matter. I give my thanks to Malcolm X, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr and his wife, Emmett Till, Shirley Chisholm, Tawan Boyd, Maya Angelou, Tamir Rice, Laverne Cox, and Alton sterling. They have paved the way for minorities who are now the majority to brave the waters and fight against injustice. However, we are not victims. We are freedom fighters with the sole purpose of giving others a reason to continue the fight.

White supremacy wont snuff out the light of hope to my fellow . The Native American and the LGBTQ communities have been maligned for the basic fact that there is and have been people like you in office, though not as unprepared and woefully unqualified as you. They, like me have been displaced, mistreated, disrespected, and ignored when it was convenient for you. Before the United States became what it is, Native Americans were displaced and attacked for a land that was claimed by European conquerors despite the fact that they were here first. We enslaved African’s to make profit. We persecuted LGBTQ members out of fear and misinformation. We have ravaged this land that we call home by carelessly dumping our oil on the waters. We have hunted animals to extinction for the purpose of a prize. We have willingly allowed ourselves to become and maintain our ignorance on climate change. All while claiming that we are a great country.

Well Mr. Trump, you are wrong because we are a great country despite our shortcomings. Despite the hate, and ignorance. Yes, the world is full of “Bad Hombres”, and “Nasty Women” but for the reasons you believe. We have “Bad Hombres” who have fought for freedom and the American dream. The “Nasty Women” of this country have raised children who have and will continue to improve our livelihood. It is not your GOP or even you who will make ‘America Great Again’. American is great already and it will be people like myself who will fight you tooth and nail for our rights to be equal, to make it even better. Mark my words - we will make these next four years hell, just as you made it hell for the last eight years for the President who has graciously endured your bad mouth and unwarranted suspicions. A man who has not had a single scandal, unlike you and your team who haven't been able to keep your hands clean before even stepping foot in a House that should’ve never belonged to you in the first place. We did not vote for you and I hope you continue to twitter fight your way into oblivion.

In conclusion Mr. Trump, I guess it would be redundant to say that you will never be my President. You are everything that is wrong with humanity. Your pompous ego will not be tolerated. Your once glowing, albeit inaccurate grandiosity has been diminished. I cannot in good conscience share or even respect your views because unlike you, I don’t have a nanny to raise my child. I want my daughter to be proud of where she comes from and to whom she is related to and you Mr. Trump are not the way. You seem to have forgotten that this is the United States of America not the set of the apprentice. This great, big, beautiful melting pot of a society has come together through love and understanding. Through respect and clarity of mind. We are not in a reality show where you can cut out scenes and edit dialogue. You are dealing with real lives. Whatever misdeeds you impose on us will affect us and our future generations greatly. Your cabinet along with you will be solely responsible for what could very well be the end of this already great America, but we will not let you. We will prevail. We will fight. We shall overcome!

sincerely,

A woman who is tired of your ignorance and deceit.

[qualkoesuce-blog]

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[berenicewoodley-blog]

Doug Eberhardt's Articles.

Today I'm heading to demonstrate how to place the client folks picker that has actually become available in SharePoint 2013 over a custom-made form along with aid from the most up to date variation of Forms Developer 2.8.9 I'm visiting pay for the absolute most focus on JavaScript framework that allows to assign and fetch market values of the field or even handle its own modifications. The complication I found with much younger people considering sex in later life is actually that they visualize on their own now, at their age, in some way with an 80-year-old. Mental deterioration is actually the best international difficulty for wellness and social treatment in the 21st century - and the best worry from most people. Black jargon as well as AAVE (African-American Vernacular English) have actually long been actually thought about substandard to supposed "conventional" English, as well as the black folks which use this considereded as ignorant or unintelligent (obliging several to master the craft of code-switching ). Thus when suddenly phrases and also phrases that possess solid associations to the black community are embraced as well as distorted by non-black folks, this could trigger a number of us to experience upset, even ridiculed. The white colored guy does not must malign, aspersion or defamation the personality and also stability from black females, publically. Due to the fact that such an insurance claim entirely contradicts 400 years of shown behavior by whites in relation to Black folks as well as creating earnings. If you as a moms and dad inform you friends that you wish to invest even more time with your household, they much better recognize, or they typically aren't really the friends you believed all of them to be. While your children may buck at the concept in the beginning, if they know it is actually a fun opportunity to spend all together, they will certainly be actually a growing number of willing to create sure they exist also. Today, Wigs for Little ones assists youngsters (age 18 as well as more youthful) going through loss of hair due to any kind of health care condition including radiation treatment, alopecia, and also burns through providing then free of cost wigs if they can easily certainly not otherwise receive a hairpiece. A function special to my sight boards is actually that I also placed pair of labels under of board that went through: Time produced: today's day" and Date Materialized: blank" This allows me know how much time my vision has been gestating because its own production and also every time I consider my eyesight board, not only am I emotionally charged with accounts, however I additionally feel a frustrating feeling to observe this shown up to fulfillment. If individuals choose to possess distinct places for personal and also social content, the target of this exam is to recognize. I have to say that Amazon customer service was uncharacteriscally horibble today. These perspectives towards discrimination and also racial compensation might be connected to the market make-up from the United States Muslim neighborhood. I recognize just how you experience about just how Thomas slandered as well as dishonored ALL OF dark girls with his comments, however, I am going to not tolerate any type of injustice provided ANY man's mommy because of his activities. A considerable amount of this sort of confusion and false information abounds, leading white colored and also non-black individuals to use a number of the extra offensive conditions in the black vocabulary. You additionally might undergo added terms that may administer when you make use of affiliate services, 3rd party web content or third-party products, including, yet not restricted to, Flickr, Twitter or PayPal. Apple Inc.: AAPL is a top-three 2.29% specific inventory position that was actually built up in 2012 at rates between $60 and also $72. The USSDR might offer you along with notices, including those regarding adjustments to the TOS, including, yet not restricted to e-mail, traditional email, Twitter and Weblog posts on the USSDR Companies, or even other realistic ways right now understood or hereafter developed. Somewhat, that emerged that Brinsley had actually had a hard time psychological health issue as well as had been jailed 19 attend his life The time before he came to Brooklyn, he 'd intimidated to kill themself inside his ex-girlfriend's Baltimore flat.

In schools, African United States kids are actually a lot more likely http://myhealth-myblog.info to be referred to the police than other little ones. We can not criticize Trump however and also definitely except the racial discrimination, the Jim Crow, the lynchings, the police violence, the high unending hate that African Americans have actually experienced off the very beginning.

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Hamilton isn't just looking for Tony awards or good reviews, it's looking for a mind at work.

Fangirls really don’t know how easy they have it, or really fans of anything for that matter. Fangirls all over the world say things like “One Direction is the absolute greatest band ever!” and no one really challenges them on it. They don’t need evidence or supporting facts to back up their claim. They’re just speaking casually in an informal setting expressing how much they love something. But what if you are a fan of something different than a boy band or dreamy actor? Say, something like a hip-hop musical about a dead founding father who became the first U.S. Treasury Secretary. What if beyond just being a big fan of this brilliant thing, you saw it had dynamic potential to impact the American conscious forever? What then? 

Then you write an 8-10 page research paper expounding on why everybody, not just teenage, musical theater nerds, should recognize Hamilton: An American Musical and think about the work it’s doing every night as it sells out another show on Broadway.  

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary describes the word phenomenon as, something that can be observed and studied and that is typically unusual or difficult to understand or explain fully. This might be one of the better words to describe Hamilton, and particularly the reactions people have had to it. It genuinely is hard for me to explain but I do think it is worth an explanation. 

Let’s start with the music. In a CBS interview, the composer Lin-Manuel Miranda said that he couldn’t imagine a better genre of music to tell the story of our nation’s founding than rap. That sounds like a heavy claim to make but that idea in itself is the foundation in which genius is found and however strange it might seem at first, Miranda has a point. You don’t have to listen to albums and albums of rap songs to know that there is often a theme of “rising to success” or “going from a peasant to a prince”. Rappers talk about working and writing and rapping their way out of an impoverished life to the top and that is exactly what Alexander Hamilton’s life was. 

For a country that now has a growing sentiment against immigrants it’s funny to learn the origin of Alexander Hamilton, born in on the Caribbean island of Nevis, miles away and completely unaffiliated from the American colonies. He was born in poverty to a father in debt who left when he was young and a mother who died shortly after succumbing to an illness. Hamilton is in this complete destitute state without much hope of ever becoming a man of wealth or power and is probably the farthest thing from the elite title of “founding father” at this point. In fact part of the reason he was even able to make it out of poverty was because of another tragedy he suffered. His island of Nevis was struck by a devastating hurricane. Hamilton survived and write this insanely detailed account describing the horror left after the storm. The other survivors in the small town found the writing and started the collection for Hamilton’s passage to America and tuition there. Hamilton literally wrote his way of a seemingly inescapable circumstance at the age of 17 and that is only the beginning of his story. We arrive at this intersection of colonial history and modern music that no one has ever seriously thought of before. Upon first hearing there was a new musical showing-casing rap to tell a revolutionary war story, I didn’t like the idea. It sounded like it could never work. Maybe that’s something a lot of people feel. However upon hearing it you kind of join Miranda’s on this concept. When it comes to rap there is often a sense that the listener can’t keep up with the music. Rappers spit a word a second and have lyrics are carried by strong, energetic music. Even in the lyrics themselves sometimes rapper talk about “how you can’t keep up with this flow” or kind of poke fun at how audiences can’t handle them. Rap is new, rap is progressive, rap is revolutionary. Just like the idea of American independence and thus the birth of our nation. 

It doesn’t stop here though. Musicals aren’t frozen in this vacuum of time when they first surfaced in America in the early 1900s. They evolve with the times, show tunes might always be categorized as show tunes but what a song from a musical might sound like is fluid and as people continue to compose them it’s often a cumulative progress. Keeping this in mind it makes me wonder of Hamilton will be the last of it’s kind or if other composers will turn to rap or even other modern genres of music to tell stories from history and what, not only the future of musicals but the future of telling history will look like. As I write this, I can figuratively hear imaginary people asking “Why does this matter? Hamilton did it, who cares if anyone else does?” It matters because, people now have this really cool choice set by the precedent of Hamilton. Wether they want to read about history and take notes on things like the Italian Renaissance or if they want actually see and hear Michelangelo throw down about how no other chick can compare to his girl Mona Lisa. Hamilton is a space in which art and history equally coexist. 

This leads me straight to another question worth exploring which is, what are then rules when recounting history? If any, and how do these rules differ from person to person, from artists to historians, the unchallenged keepers of the historical narrative. It might seem like a dry question but it’s something that has to come up, considering Hamilton is literally, entirely based of of American history. Though there are a lot go things I think have to come up of I want this thesis of Hamilton’s importance to be taken seriously. This is a concept I thought about when reading an article titled “Alexander Hamilton: The Wrong Hero for Our Age” by Billy G. Smith. It’s aligns with this idea of art and history being brought together because this author recognizes that artists should be allowed at least a little bit of artistic license so long as they are completely rewriting history. They deserve this license because its essentially they’re job as artists. He unapologetically points out his opinion that Hamilton wasn’t quite the man the musical sells him as but despite that he still can recognize this musical as a work of artistic genius. 

One of the reasons I think this musical is important is because there is literally a whole song, the finale actually, titled “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story”. The song asks almost in a rhetorical sense for the audience but within the context of the actual musical you get and answer. “Who tells your story?” the ensemble asks? For Alexander Hamilton it was his wife Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton. After his death many other prominent men at the time including other founding fathers tried to slander Hamilton’s name for his wildly passionate, unstoppable vigor when it came to his Federalist ideas, abolitionism and plans for a strong federal form of government as well as for the affair he had with Maria Reynolds. Though his wife Eliza had been the victim of an unfaithful husband, lost her eldest son in a duel partly through Hamilton’s doing and became a premature widow she still lived the rest of her life trying to preserve Hamilton’s legacy. She had been wronged by Hamilton herself but still saw the raw determination and goodness in Hamilton past his faults. She was the one who saved many of his letters and writings and worked to make sure, despite his very real flaws, that the goodness in Hamilton was also remembered. That act in itself, the work of Hamilton’s wife Eliza is why we have Hamilton today.

This song’s message is exactly what the title is, there will be people that you outlive and people who will outlive you and you have no control over who tells your story when you leave this earth. However in another respect its message is more specifically talking about this idea of legacy, what it means for these people who have had instrumental roles in history, wether someone will be forgotten or remembered and if they’re remembered will they be heroes or villains and lastly if they actually deserve those titles or not. It is a lot to unpack but it’s the first time in my life something has made me think more critically about the history I’ve learned. History is important not just by virtue of being the past but because of they way the past is interpreted, the people who get tell the narrative win no matter what side they are on.The most common response people will give when asked why learning history is important is that “if you don’t learn history, you’ll repeat it.” and if that is the case than isn’t in immensely important to make sure these historians are getting the facts right? Who will put historians in their place if they don’t get the facts right? Who is here to make sure that doesn’t happen? Who tells the story?  Hamilton asks this question more seriously than any other history class, historical documentary, historical fiction book or movie I’ve ever seen.This song from Hamilton asks this question over and over again until the ensemble’s voices fade and show ends leaving audiences in a darkened to think about it, who tells the story.

-Isabel V.

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