#but like. putting the blame for its existence on the internet as if that hasn’t just… been a part of human culture since forever

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

Blanket and hug

A hug

Honestly I wrote like A LOT of hugs considering how un-touchy-feely the Isle kids are?? So, I'm sharing two, because I can't choose just one.

Ginny Gothel and Anthony Tremaine

„Ginny?“

She looks up at him, and abruptly stands up. Her world goes white again, and she tastes metal for just a heartbeat,

„Sunflower, what’s wrong?“

In another heartbeat, he’s hugging her tight, which is probably a good thing. For closely unspecified reasons.

She clings to his shoulders, tightly enough for her nails to hurt him even through all the layers he is wearing, and breathes in through clenched teeth. Then again. And again.

If she’d have to guess, she’d say that the world has returned to its miserable true colours by now, but, you see, checking would require her to lift her head from his shoulder.

Which would be a shame.

She breathes in again and loosens her grip on him.

„What’s wrong?“ he asks again, as if the answer wasn’t „Every-fucking-thing,“ or, alternatively, „Existence.“

Instead, she leans away a bit, his hands moving to her hips, and slowly answers: „I have such soft hair, Anthony–“

He smiles: „I know. I did your hair just this morning, remember?“

As if that was relevant just now.

She swats at his shoulder lightly – don’t interrupt me!

He presses his lips together in an exasperated expression, holding it only long enough for her to notice. Which is, of course, why she pretends she didn’t see.

„As I was saying,“ she starts again, „I have such soft hair,“ („Thanks to me.“), „And no one is playing with it!“

„Oh?“ he flashes a half-smirk at her and runs his fingers along her scalp, „That better, then?“

„Much.“

Harry and CJ Hook

On completely unrelated note, Remedial Goodness fucking SUCKS.

FG likes to pretend the world is black and white, good and evil, light and dark: CJ prefers to think of it as a place of countless shades of gray, swaying back and forth like wild waves on stormy sea, preferably illuminated by hellish crimson flames.

You know, red. Like her cloak.

Anyway.

Speaking of red.

There is another rather tall and rather familiar figure clad in red in between the trees and it’s rapidly getting closer.

„Harry!“ she shouts at the top of her lungs, „Harry is here! Do you see him, Freddie?“

She frantically looks at the Shadow witch to confirm she isn’t hallucinating.

(In her defence, it wouldn’t be the first party that had laced brownies. Well, it would be the first Auradon party, probably. These kids have no idea how to have fun.)

(...Ok, CJ’s taking that back. She definitely saw Chloe Trouillefou and Hailey of DunBroch high at least one time. They had pupils of the size of platters. On the other hand, FG was giving a two hour long course on internet safety, so CJ can’t blame them.)

„Yes. Harry. I see him,“ sights Freddie. Wonderful!

„Also Uma, Gil and Jane. I thought she fell asleep with everyone else.“

Freddie also grumbles something about where her sister, who was supposed to arrive from the Isle today with Dizzy Tremaine and the Smee twins, is, and that she has no idea how the pirates got here and yada yada yada, CJ’s already running to greet her brother.

She hasn’t seen him in ages!

Like, forever!

Not that she missed him. Or Harriet. Absolutely not.

She definitely doesn’t almost crush his ribs when he hugs him, perish that thought! Pirates do not miss anybody!

She squeals when he picks her up and twirls her around in the air.

When he puts her down, she pretends to straighten her skirt and puffs her cheeks, to show how annoyed she is at that treatment.

„You ungrateful little scallywag-“ whispers Harry without any real bite and she grins at him, before turning around and greeting everyone else:

„Hi Jane! Happy birthday! I saved you some, uhm,“ she looks around to check what foods are left, „…Cake pops? And the pumpkin muffins! You like those, right?“

CJ brightens up and waves at Gil: „Gil! You should absolutely try the cake pops! They’re awesome and fresh and sweet! And not poisoned!“

She hopes.

Gil gets a go-ahead from his Captain and CJ finally faces the Sea witch:

„Hi, Uma! Are you and Harry married yet?“

„CJ. There is more important stuff going on right now!“

„…So? Are you?“

A Blanket (share a scene where a character feels safe and loved)

Probably this whole story:

Does CJ feel safe here? Yes. And she will be a bitch about it.

Also, like, every single scene of CJ interacting with her siblings.

[gender-euphowrya]

ngl the parents clutching pearls about huggy wuggy are funny as hell trying to pretend that oh it’s the evil internet’s fault for letting their kids be exposed to horror with cute aesthetics like oh that damn night freddy and them momos making my kid too scared to sleep

as if their generation didn’t grow up seeing absolutely fucked puppets on tv and fucking mr blobby and the yearly child trauma ritual of forcing kids to sit in the lap of some dude in a very disheveled and shoddy easter bunny suit

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[Note]: The calls and moments accompany Victor’s Interflowing Date. Remember to read the date first, since it’s necessary to understand the context of their conversation! ♡

⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for contents that are yet to be released in the global server! ⌚

┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈

—

✧ [MOMENTS] ✧

Victor’s Post: A certain someone sneakily used Pudding’s moisturizer, but forgot to put it back in its original place.

–

⊳ OPTION A:

MC: I used it on Pudding!

Victor: Is that right? So the bunny furs stuck on the top must be Pudding’s too then.

–

⊳ OPTION B:

MC: You’ve found out. That’s so embarrassing...

Victor: In front of me, you don’t need to worry about that.

–

⊳ OPTION C:

MC: Then, have you noticed that my tail and ears have become much smoother?

Victor: They have always been smooth. No need to make these weird attempts.

—

–

✧ [First Call] ✧

Victor: That “Guidebook for Rearing Bunnies” on my office desk, did you buy it?

MC: Yup. Various kinds of rearing guidebooks have been popular among colleagues lately! After all, everyone has turned into animals...

MC: If we can understand the habits and properties of the animals better, perhaps we will be able to see another side of the people around us.

Victor: I think a certain someone needs to know that the Evol abnormality hasn’t actually turned people into animals.

MC: Just look at it from a different perspective. Who knows, perhaps you’ll feel like you understand me better?

Victor: In that case, let me take a look at this book you’ve given me.

Victor: The book says that bunnies have a powerful ability to cleanse themselves, and they do not require frequent bathing.

Victor: It looks like we can hang a sign on the bathroom at home. A certain someone can only use it once a month.

MC: ...this one doesn’t count!

Victor: Okay, so next. It says that bunnies live a solitary existence and will fight when they live together in a group.

Victor: According to this article, the key to the door should also be exchanged. A certain bunny mustn’t be allowed into the house.

MC: It doesn’t count, doesn’t count! Cats and bunnies don’t fight by any means!

MC: Don’t bunnies have even one habit that conforms to me?

Victor: Mm, there is one.

Victor: Bunnies are often nocturnal, and they eat during nighttime.

Victor: It does resemble a certain someone’s style.

MC: No wonder I’ve been craving late-night snacks recently. It seems that Evol abnormality is the one to be blamed for this!

Victor: Managed to find one common ground with great difficulty, and now you’re using it as an excuse for your gluttony?

MC: It’s true. I seem to be particularly hungry at night lately and seem to be sleepy...

Victor: I think the main culprit should be that “Guidebook For Rearing Cats” next to your pillow.

Victor: If you stay up late reading till 3 or 4 o’clock, it’s only natural that you will get hungry, and also feel sleepy the next day.

MC: I want to understand you better too. And also, it’s a really good book.

Victor: Whatever you want to know, you can just ask me directly.

Victor: No need to stay up all night as a price for that. And, the result will be far more authoritative than the book can give you.

—

–

✧ [Second Call] ✧

Starts at – 2:08

–

Victor: Why does the bathroom smell like peaches? What did you do?

MC: I bought a new bottle of peach perfume, and I accidentally spilled it while trying it out before leaving home. I guess it’s been permeating the air.

Victor: Why did you suddenly think of buying perfume?

MC: After the abnormality disappeared a few days ago, I was kinda missing the scent during that time. So, I went to the internet to do some research.

MC: Some experts have launched a scent laboratory. They can restore your unique scent during the period of Evol abnormality based on saliva samples.

Victor: So did this so-called laboratory ask you to fill out a survey questionnaire?

MC: Yeah. The questionnaire included my full name, gender, age, occupation, and the impression of my scent during the abnormality.

MC: Owh wait, isn’t that... I’ve bought another IQ tax product, haven’t I...

–

[Trivia]: MC uses the term “智商税 - (Zhìshāng shuì),” which literally translates to “IQ tax.” It’s a funny term in Chinese that refers to spending money on things without proper thinking i.e., practically the “obligation” for not using your brain HAHA~ :>

–

Victor: It’s still not too late to realize that now.

Victor: From an investor’s point of view, this scent laboratory has a flourishing market.

Victor: They analyze the consumer profile based on the information provided by the buyer using Big data statistics and orientate the consumer’s scent.

Victor: Large sum of the cost goes into the information collection for the calculation, while the costs of the chemical productions are almost negligible.

Victor: And the gimmick of saliva samples can coax people like a certain dummy into impulsive consumption, ensuring high sales and high profit.

MC: But, I feel like the scent of that peach is very similar to the one on my body...

Victor: It’s not.

–

[T/N]: He says that in a heartbeat and actually sounds offended while saying so haha~ i.e. nothing compares to “your” scent skasbksk ⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

–

MC: Eh, can you smell the difference?

Victor: The fragrance of this perfume you bought is very strong. It also smells a bit cloying, and the base note makes people dizzy.

MC: And what about the scent of me then?

Victor: More fresh, simple, and elegant. The smell was more relaxing.

MC: So it actually was such a good smell! If I had known earlier... I should have figured out a way to preserve this scent. Now, what a shame!

Victor: There’s nothing to feel sorry about.

Victor: Even if it’s not preserved, I’ll always remember the scent of a certain someone.

Victor: All right. After your dinner party is over, come back home early.

Victor: If you want perfume, tomorrow we will go to the mall together and pick out a few more bottles.

—

[ssvgawara]

Haikyuu boys and some oddly specific crime they’d commit

a/n: I come back and the first thing I write is a shitpost!! enjoy </3 tw for drugs, murder, alcohol and general crime committing xoxo

Karasuno

Daichi- he’s a cop sorry that’s all there is to it man

Suga- Suga has multiple charges of 1st-degree murder against him but they can’t seem to find his identity so he continues committing murder and will continue until he gets caught or ends up murdering enough people to be put in a position of power

Asahi- everyone is probably like “Oh Asahi is innocent” NO. He has learned that his slightly scary face will let him get away with a lot, he is buying alcohol illegally because he looks old enough to, and he’s buying so much other shit and just getting away with it

Nishinoya- This man gives fucking pimp vibes I can just see him in the big leopard print fur coat with a pretty girl in his lap and he calls himself big poppa but no one else will

Tanaka- Drug dealer vibes, probably runs an entire fucking drug ring with his sister and not just a Lil weed these mfkas have the hard shit too like you could probably buy meth from them, he’s not using it but it’s good business

Ennoshita, Kinoshita, and Narita- They literally rob a bank they have an entire scheme and get away with multiple bank robberies and this goes on for MONTHS

Kageyama- We know he’s volleyball smart but otherwise he’s so mfing stupid and I love him for it but he is a chronic shoplifter. Just picks something up and takes it, has walked out of a store without paying for an entire bed set once and got away with it somehow so idk props to him

Hinata- He is the little guy in any heist situation, he fits anywhere so he can sneak in and out the best, he gave himself the stupid ass code name tiny giant but everyone goes with it because somehow he is the best

Tsukishima- armed robbery, but he doesn’t have a gun just a knife like he’s tall and as an attitude, a knife will get him whatever he needs he doesn’t need the gun

Yamaguchi- He runs a catfishing scheme where he pretends to be a naive girl, scams old men out of their money, and then ghosts them and I think it’s what he deserves let him carry on especially because no one would believe it’s him. Also not really like a crime crime but still a crime in a way

Kiyoko- She kills men and I know it, Queen Kiyoko ending the patriarchy one shitty man at a time like she only kills men who deserve it bc some have rights.

Yachi- She’s too anxious to commit an in-person crime so she does a lot of cybercrime, hacking government databases and releasing info to the people, truly the anonymous we deserve

Saeko- She’s running that drug ring with Tanaka, and she loves it because there’s a thrill to it even though yknow she’s dealing literal meth but like its fine plus she loves rocking people’s shit when they get too handsy, which bring me to my next point underground MMA Saeko, like the illegal one with no rules yeah <3

Ukai- this man probably sells all kinda shit to minors that he shouldn’t he is so unbothered a 7-year-old could probably walk in ask for a pack of camels and get them and leave before he noticed what was going on.

Takeda- Did y’all see how scared Hinata was when Takeda gave him that lecture? This dude could kidnap someone and scare them into giving all the information he needed, a legend truly

Aoba Johsai

Oikawa- took steroids one time. And of course in sports, that’s not allowed. But he only did it once and regretted it for months afterward. Never told anyone and was just relieved he didn’t have to piss in a cup and have someone find out.

Matsukawa- Without hesitation, I know this man takes dead people’s bones and sells them on the internet. Has dubbed himself the bone man and he feels so much power when someone buys a femur or sumn. It’s kinda funny honestly he has a hoard of bones to sell, his fave is the pelvis.

Hanamaki- He’s in between jobs because he stole money from his last job, like he said he was sorry he just needed a little extra for gas but was sad to find out that’s a literal crime and he was laundering money.

Iwaizumi- he’s a street racer, like the fast and furious style and it’s so sexy of him like late-night races ugh to be in an expensive fast car with him where he has one hand on my thigh okay that’s enough of that.

Kunimi- Look me in the eye and tell me he does not do drugs. He does and if you don’t believe me you are wrong and I will fight you on this one. 

Kyotani- If there is a crime he will commit it for fun. Like he will do it with no hesitation. He has a record longer than twilight and I’m not sure how he is not in prison actually nvm he escaped and is  a wanted criminal lol

Shiritorizawa

Ushijima- Assault, he just reeks of getting into bar fights when he’s absolutely wasted. Like he most likely didn’t start it but he will be finishing it

Tendou- grave robbing, he just goes into the cemetery picked the oldest plots, and gets to digging. Has made thousands on dead people jewelry and probably won’t get caught, like besides the groundskeeper there’s no security he will never stop.

Semi- he breaks copyright laws on the daily. He’s sampling music in his all the time but he’s doing it so sneakily it’s fine its what deserves stream his band on Spotify right now,

Shirabu- His bangs are criminal enough. No, but he has stolen drugs from the hospital before he just wanted to try the Xanax, and yeah he could just write himself a prescription for it nut like it’s so easy to just go get some and no report it so that’s what he did.

Goshiki- y’all want me to say arson don’t you?? Fine. He commits arson multiple times and kills 7 people with fire before getting arrested and he doesn’t even feel bad so in prison he probably fucking runs a gang he is crazy.

Nekoma

Kuroo- he is a capitalist and class traitor and that’s crime enough I don’t care is he’s attractive or rich, He commits crimes daily by just existing but I still love him anyway.

Kai- Could not commit a crime he just wants to garden and live his life. Jk there’s at minimum one body in that garden let him kill a man he deserves it just let him have one dead body

Yaku- he keyed someone’s car once just because they pissed him off. Was it kuroo? Yes. But that’s fine because he also keyed Lev’s car but blamed lev for keying kuroo’s and Kuroo for keying Lev’s. He just wants to watch the world burn.

Kenma- cyberbullying but man he is mean. Like no bars held we will dig into every insecurity he can and that shit hurts and he doesn’t even feel bad about it he will just be as mean as he can if you’re not careful

Lev- his crime is being tall and dumb also doesn’t understand the economy and prints counterfeit money because why can’t we print more money? The government should get on that.

Inuoka- He released all the animals from a zoo, like snuck in one night and just let them all free, I’m surprised the tiger didn’t eat him but hey the animals are free, there’s still some missing uh oh he’s very proud of himself for it. After the rush, he starts sneaking into shelters and freeing all the dogs and cats

Yamamoto and Fukunaga- Have egged a house before, it was Kuroo’s he deserves all this bullying and you can’t stop me.

Date Tech

Aone- Criminal Conspiracy, sure he had an entire foolproof plan to get away with the perfect crime but someone found out, and now his plans are ruined, damn </3 and no one ever suspects the quiet guy either.

Futakuchi- Having a prostitute, he just wanted some company like mans is lonely so he paid a girl to just spend a Lil time with him it’s all good.

Fukurodani

Bokuto- I know we all haha funny laugh at tax evader bokuto and sure maybe he evades his taxes but he’s also committed vehicular manslaughter, he cannot drive and has killed someone with his car maybe even multiple someones but he always drives off in a panic because he doesn’t know what else to do.

Akaashi- Hasn’t actively committed a crime but has been an accomplice in every vehicular manslaughter Bokuto has committed why the fuck does he keep letting bokuto drive? He really needs to stop that.

Konoha- A master scammer he is so convincing everyone gives him money even if they’re a little sus because he’s just that good each scheme is so convincing.

Inarizaki

Kita- He grows weed, you can’t tell me those rice fields are just for rice he’s got all this space he is growing marijuana and selling it, let him do it I want him to be my plug.

Atsumu- "What is my perfect crime? I break into Tiffany's at midnight. Do I go for the vault? No, I go for the chandelier. It's priceless. As I'm taking it down, a woman catches me. She tells me to stop. It's her father's business. She's Tiffany. I say no. We make love all night. In the morning, the cops come and I escape in one of their uniforms. I tell her to meet me in Mexico, but I go to Canada. I don't trust her. Besides, I like the cold. Thirty years later, I get a postcard. I have a son and he's the chief of police. This is where the story gets interesting. I tell Tiffany to meet me in Paris by the Trocadero. She's been waiting for me all these years. She's never taken another lover. I don't care. I don't show up. I go to Berlin. That's where I stashed the chandelier."

Osamu- resisting arrest. He just said no and ran. Granted he shouldn’t have punched the cop in the first place to have to be arrested but like that’s not the point here.

Aran- accidental child abandonment, like he just forgot he was babysitting and left the kid alone for like a day. He felt terrible but he still forgot the kid and now is fearful of parenthood

Suna- owns an illegal weapon, like he just never registered it and keeps it around and would use it if needed Suna please just point the weapon at me maybe

Others

Terushima- Graffiti, he loves painting on the walls of buildings and tagging them, has so much spraypaint and his day isn’t complete if he doesn’t tag at least one building or train car.

Daishou- Public intoxication- he got a little too fucked up and stripped on the street he will forever have to live with everyone knowing he has an ass tattoo like damn bruh

Sakusa- Perjury he simply wanted to get out of court so he said some shit so he could leave granted he lied under oath but whatever, did they ever find out? No, so he’s fine and he’d do it again if it meant he could leave faster. Like sure he was a witness to a murder but bruh he pretends he does not see.

Hoshihumi- driving without a license he simply thought you didn’t need one because why do you need a piece of plastic to say you can drive a car like??? Just know how to drive it.

[justforbooks]

A New World Through My Window

By Olga Tokarczuk

From my window, I can see a white mulberry, a tree I’m fascinated by—one of the reasons I decided to live where I live. The mulberry is a generous plant—all spring and all summer it offers dozens of avian families its sweet and healthful fruits. Right now, the mulberry hasn’t got back its leaves, and so I see a stretch of quiet street, rarely traversed by people on their way to the park. The weather in Wrocław is almost summery: a blinding sun, blue sky, clean air. Today, as I was walking my dog, I saw two magpies chasing an owl from their nest. At a remove of just a couple of feet, the owl and I gazed into each other’s eyes. Animals, too, seem to be waiting expectantly, wondering what’s going to happen next.

For the longest time, I have felt that there’s been too much world. Too much, too fast, too loud. So I’m not experiencing any “isolation trauma,” and it isn’t hard on me at all to not see people. I’m not sorry that the cinemas have closed; I am completely indifferent to the fact that shopping centers have shuttered. I do worry, of course, when I think of all the people who have lost their jobs. But, when I learned of the impending quarantine, I felt something like relief. I know many people felt similarly, even if they also felt ashamed of it. My introversion, long strangled and abused by hyperactive extroverts, has brushed itself off and come out of the closet.

I watch our neighbor through the window, an overworked lawyer I just recently saw heading to work in the morning with his courtroom robe slung over his shoulder. Now in a baggy tracksuit, he battles a branch in the yard; he seems to be putting things in order. I see a couple of young people taking out an older dog that’s been barely able to walk since last winter. The dog staggers while they patiently accompany him, walking at the slowest pace. Making a great racket, the garbage truck picks up the trash.

Life goes on, and how, but at a completely different rhythm. I tidied up my closet and took out the newspapers we had read and placed them in the recycling bin. I repotted the flowers. I picked up my bicycle from the shop where it had been repaired. I have been enjoying cooking.

Images from my childhood keep coming back to me. There was so much more time then, and it was possible to “waste” it and “kill” it, spending hours just staring out the window, observing the ants, or lying under the table and imagining it to be the ark. Reading the encyclopedia.

Might it not be the case that we have returned to a normal rhythm of life? That it isn’t that the virus is a disruption of the norm, but rather exactly the reverse—that the hectic world before the virus arrived was abnormal?

The virus has reminded us, after all, of the thing we have been denying so passionately: that we are delicate creatures, composed of the most fragile material. That we die—that we are mortal. That we are not separated from the rest of the world by our “humanity,” by any exceptionality, but that the world is instead a kind of great network in which we are enmeshed, connected with other beings by invisible threads of dependence and influence. That without any regard to how far apart the countries we come from are, or what languages we speak, or what color our skin is, we come down with the same illness, we share the same fears; we die the same death.

It has made us realize that no matter how weak and vulnerable we feel in the face of danger, we are also surrounded by people who are more vulnerable, to whom our help is essential. It has reminded us of how fragile our older parents and grandparents are, and how very much they need our care. It has shown us that our frenetic movements imperil the world. And it has raised a question we have rarely had the courage to ask ourselves: what is it, exactly, that we keep going off in search of?

The fear of getting sick has reminded us of the nests from which we hail and in which we feel safe. In such a situation, even the most assiduous travellers will always press on to some kind of home. At the same time, sad truths have been revealed to us—that in a moment of danger, our thought resorts once more to the limiting and exclusive categories of nations and borders. In this difficult time, we have seen how very weak in practice is the idea of a European community. The E.U. has forfeited the match, delegating crisis-time decisions to nation states. Old chauvinism has returned, bringing back the division between “ours” and “foreign”—in other words, exactly what we have fought against these past decades in the hope that it would never again format our minds. The fear of the virus has brought about the atavistic conviction that there must be foreigners to blame, that it is they who introduce the threat. In Europe, the virus is “from elsewhere.” In Poland, everyone returning from abroad is now considered suspicious. The virus reminds us: borders exist, and they’re doing just fine.

I also fear that the virus will alert us to another old truth: how very much we aren’t equal. While some of us fly off on private planes to homes on islands or in woodland isolation, others will remain in cities, operating power plants and waterworks. Still others will risk their lives working in shops and hospitals. Some will make money off the pandemic while others will lose everything they have. The coming crisis will undermine all of the principles that seemed to us so sound; many countries won’t be able to handle it, and in the face of their downfalls, new orders will awaken, as is often the case after crises.

We believe we are staying home, reading books and watching television, but, in fact, we are readying ourselves for a battle over a new reality that we cannot even imagine, slowly coming to understand that nothing will ever be the same. The condition of mandatory quarantine, of billeting the family at home, may make us aware of things we have no desire to admit: that our family depletes us, that the bonds of our marriage have long since slackened. Our children will come out of quarantine addicted to the Internet, and many of us will be aware of the senselessness and futility of circumstances in which we mechanically, by the power of inertia, remain. And what if the number of murders, suicides, and sufferers of mental illnesses grows?

Before our eyes, the smoke is dispersing from the civilizational paradigm that has shaped us over the past two hundred years: that we are the masters of creation, that we can do anything, that the world belongs to us. A new time draws near.

Translated from the Polish by Jennifer Croft.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

[dailyexo]

[NEWS] Baekhyun - 190310 Allure: “How EXO's Baekhyun Put His Identity into Privé Alliance”

"Allure's Devon Abelman sat down with the K-pop star during his first-ever solo appearance in the U.S to discuss how he defines beauty and style on his own terms.

BY DEVON ABELMAN

If I didn't know who Baekhyun was before meeting him in February, I would have thought he was just a random handsome dude I met at a nightclub while on vacation in Los Angeles.

As he politely tells a roving cater waiter offering us mini cannolis, "No thank you," I find myself believing that Baekhyun truly is that guy. I'm fully aware of his claim to fame, but he doesn't look or act the part. For starters, Baekhyun's lids aren't defined with expertly blended smoky eyes, and his lips aren't stained with a raspberry lip tint. Those tell-tale signs of a man with his job description are noticeably missing. Not a single stroke of eyeliner or fleck of glitter is in sight, either (honestly, to my dismay). A part of me hoped we'd bond over our eye makeup.

Makeup aside, Baekhyun carries himself with a quiet confidence that is so unassuming that he seems weirdly familiar and incredibly normal compared to the influencers, actors, and singers milling around us in the private VIP area. He never acts like he's better or more important than any other person there. Instead, he has the affability of the construction worker who waves to me every morning on my way to work rather than the larger-than-life bearing of a superstar from Seoul who effortlessly hits high notes while simultaneously performing powerful choreography. During our interview, I felt like I should ask him about his dog instead of his skin-care routine. If I didn't know who Baekhyun was, I would have wondered why I was interviewing him for Allure at all.

Baekhyun's wavy hair reminds me why this article exists on the Internet and not solely as a story I recount to my friends over text messages. Parted in the middle and styled to have a wet look, his auburn ends are relics of internationally beloved K-pop group EXO's most recent concept. His hair, for all intents and purposes, is the reason why we ended up sitting together in a cushy booth in the back corner of the dimly lit VIP section of a club on a Tuesday night. Trust me, neither of us frequent this fine L.A. establishment, located next to the Museum of Death. You won't even catch me in a club when I'm at home in Brooklyn. To put it bluntly, I'm only in this club talking to a nice guy because he's a member of EXO.

The EXO Connection

If this is your introduction to Baekhyun, please know that EXO is a Big Deal. Among their long list of awards and chart-topping accomplishments, the nine-member group performed at the 2018 Pyeongchang Olympics and has racked up more than 100 million views on each of their music videos on YouTube.

By extension, Baekhyun — full name Byun Baekhyun, age 26 — is a Big Deal, too. In addition to being a talented performer with 14.5 million Instagram followers, his bright dye jobs, innovative hairstyles, and experimental eye makeup have sparked beauty trends in K-pop since EXO debuted in 2012. You can, more or less, blame him for the influx of mullets and red-streaked black hair among other idols and thank him for the proliferation of red eye shadow. No matter how controversial or dramatic the looks Baekhyun tries are, he always pulls them off with ease and joviality.

Back to Baekhyun's auburn hair, though. Like most K-pop stars, he constantly undergoes vibrant dye jobs in hues, like pink, silver, and platinum, to fit the group's concepts. For "Love Shot," EXO's latest music video, he paired his newly burgundy hair with a glimmering eye shadow of the same shade and sooty black liner. Now his look is an extremely streamlined version of this.

His current lack of makeup may be a stark contrast from the bold eye looks he typically wears onstage and in music videos, but his skin is just as dewy as ever with the help of a nearly undetectable layer of foundation. His brows are probably lightly filled in, too, but I could be reaching. If anything, Baekhyun's wearing the standard amount of makeup for celebrity men. Just enough to amplify his glow, not enough to make a statement.

Baekhyun's glow is due in part to a consistent regimen; he lists toner, lotion, and moisturizer as the official order. But how many times do you wash your face, I ask, causing a couple of people in the human bubble of managers, publicists, and security guards surrounding us to laugh. Baekhyun ignores their snickers and answers, "Two," in English. (That's right, double cleansing is no laughing matter.) "If I wash my face too many times, I get skin troubles," he adds.

Baekhyun says he hasn't changed up the steps of his skin-care routine in L.A., or ramped up the number of sheet masks he uses. With EXO constantly traveling for concerts and events, "My skin gets used to the environment," he says. "So wherever I am, I use the same skin-care routine."

The Privé Connection

In hindsight, I should have anticipated Baekhyun would present himself in this low-key manner for his first-ever solo appearance in the U.S. In Privé campaigns, he's usually seen as he is now: natural, casual, effortlessly cool. His makeup is minimal; his natural-colored hair looks like all he did was run his hand through it; his outfits are sleek. With all this in mind, I ask him if he could dye his hair any color for the next campaign, what would it be.

How did I end up interviewing Baekhyun in a club, you ask? Let's go back to May 2018. Baekhyun made it onto Vogue's home page when he was named the co-creative director of streetwear brand Privé Alliance. Alongside Danyl Geneciran, the brand's CEO, Baekhyun helps create pieces that "put highlights on the basics," Baekhyun explains to me. He later reveals that he's surprised that almost all of his ideas have been executed.

My favorite part of Privé is how its offerings have a certain fluidity to them, much like Baekhyun's onstage persona. None of Privé's shirts, jackets, and bags are confined to overtly masculine or feminine silhouettes, and the same designs are available for men and women. "It's very important to have everyone be able to wear the clothes comfortably," Baekhyun explains. "Without any official communication, we agreed that [Privé Alliance] is going to be unisex."

With the newest Privé Alliance collection launching in April, the brand invited the public to join Baekhyun for a fashion presentation. The location: the very club we are sitting in. Although he doesn't act like he is (he kept to himself for most of the event), Baekhyun is undoubtedly the center of attention. He is the reason the floor below us is with filled with people from all over the world. Everyone's here to see Baekhyun, not the latest Privé pieces.

The Identity Connection

This is the only question Baekhyun doesn't answer concisely and without hesitation. "I don't know," he says in English. After taking a couple of seconds to think about it, he adds in Korean, "I love the black," adding "simple" in English.

This single word — simple — perfectly mirrors Baekhyun's personal aesthetic. "Basics, but with many little details," he explains. "It’s like you just came out of your house, but it’s still cool." In other words, he's the epitome of "Oh, this old thing? I just threw it on." I ask if he prefers to keep his hair and makeup natural and low-key, too, and he quickly replies, "yes, yes," in Korean.

The fact that Prive's aesthetic is similar to Baekhyun's is intentional. "I put my identity and myself into this collection," he tells me, echoing a line he shared when he made a brief appearance onstage before the fashion presentation commenced. The theme of the collection was his birth year, 1992, with zip-up corduroy jackets and hoodies adorned with '92 in big text.

Another adage he repeats throughout the night is, "Be brave. Be humble." The same words are printed all over the collared white satin shirt he's wearing, layered under a similar navy blue one. After the event, I saw people saying the look recalled EXO's "Lotto" era, back in 2016 when his hair was styled in a similar way and he wore collared shirts with several of the top buttons undone and silver necklaces. Onyx shadow was blended all over his lids back then, though. Fans likened Baekhyun's look that night to a mafia boss. (Seeing those tweets made me laugh, because his charm is far from disarming.) But for Baekhyun, his outfit is more a matter of comfort. "I like how silky it feels," he says. I go on to compare it to pajamas, which makes him chuckle.

Baekhyun doesn't ignore the fact that he typically presents himself with intricate details. Performing, he points out, is his go-to form of self-expression, outside of working with Privé. And let's be real, Baekhyun's performances, which ooze confidence and allure, wouldn't be the same without his stunning hair and makeup.

To borrow a word from Baekhyun, identity — and the way we present ourselves — isn't fixed. For example, the way my best friend describes my identity could be strikingly different from the way my sisters would. The way I dress when I'm going to get a bagel on a Saturday morning (track pants and a T-shirt) is different from how I dress for work (vintage floral dresses) or an event like this (a blue-and-white plaid suit). The way I do my colorful makeup is also evolving, too.

We often see K-pop stars in narrow, controlled situations, though, so we know and define them according to what we're able to see. I'm as guilty of this as the next person, i.e., assuming Baekeyun would show up with eyeliner as bold as my own. When you take a K-pop star out of a K-pop setting, a different side of them is revealed. They no longer have to adhere to a group aesthetic, just their own. We get a glimpse of Baekhyun's at the airport and in the selfies he posts on Instagram, but Privé Alliance has given him a platform to truly show his identity on his own terms.

At that club, I felt like I was being introduced to Baekhyun all over again. Back when I watched EXO's music video for "Monster" the first time, I saw him as part of a carefully crafted package; the second time, I saw him the way he sees himself."

Photo links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Credit: Allure.

[redeyedryu]

Cross Dimensional Problems

Chapter 8 - Warmth | [Ao3] | 1 | « | x |  » |

And now we’re caught up! Tried to sprinkle a wee bitta fluff in this chapter after the events of the previous one. I apologize if the French is weird, I only have Google to rely on. *sweats*

Summary: There’s something not quite right about that guy.

The next few days pass in a haze.

Not long after your “discussion” with Rus, Sans had knocked on your door to return your phone and pass along a charger he had put together for you. You had given him a simple thank you, then closed the door in his face, unable to muster up the energy to put your manners to proper use. 

Maybe you should have told Sans about that night, you find yourself thinking some time after he had already left. ...But would he have even cared? Your mind flashed to Rus’s words, to his dismissive attitude, and a stabbing ache radiated through your chest. No, no, it’s better not to bother anyone with this. It's not like they would care.

It was easy to hole yourself away after that. Among your phone and the charger, Sans had included a bit of paper with their network information, allowing you to connect to their alien internet. When you weren't sleeping, you distracted yourself with this world’s equivalent of YouTube and Google. You searched through various news articles: local, national, global; political, entertainment, technology, arts. It was… strange and disconcerting. There were a surprising number of parallels between this place and yours, and yet the differences were stark. Major brands you would be able to recognize in a heartbeat seemingly didn't exist here; certain well-known game series, while they did exist, hadn't garnered the same attention here and had petered out after a single instillation—two, if they were lucky. You thought it some kind of interesting that the Mother/EarthBound series didn't seem to exist. Neither did Smash, apparently.

That made you smile a bittersweet grin. No wonder Sans seemingly hadn't understood your reference before.

Nightmare hasn't shown himself since, but sometimes, when you're just on the border between sleep and wakefulness, you think you catch movement in the darkest corners of the room. Your gaze never lingers, and you never focus, scared of what you might see.

You only ever sneak from your borrowed room to go to the bathroom or rummage something from the kitchen when everyone else is asleep. You're aware you're avoiding everyone, that this isn't healthy, but at the same time you just can't bring yourself to care. Why should you, when no one else does?

It's once again ass o’ clock and you're currently standing in the darkened kitchen, lit only by the open fridge you're staring into as if it holds the answer to life itself. There are various stacked tupperware, a package of thawing ground beef, and quite a few other food bits scattered about. Needless to say, it doesn't appear that anyone is hard up on food stuffs in this house. You don't feel any less guilty about taking from them, though.

You eventually settle on nabbing the carton of eggs, a bottle of mustard, and some shredded cheddar. Setting them on the counter by the stove, you swipe a packet of English muffins from the bread box. As you pivot on your heel, bread in hand, intent on digging up a pan, you’re startled to find someone standing right behind you.

“JESUS!” you shout, arms pulling to your chest, which leads to you accidentally whacking your would-be assailant with the packet of muffins straight across the face.

They don't move, don't so much as flinch, just stare at you with mis-matched eye lights. He blinks, whether in disbelief or offense you can't say. One thing’s for sure though: the floor is now littered with bread.

A smidge of guilt and no small amount of annoyance rolls from you as Ink grins. Then he starts chuckling.

“What the hell?!” you hiss, “You scared the shit outta me!” You scowl as you squat down to gather up the floor bread. Man, what a waste. Maybe the boys will still eat it? Do germs affect them?

“My apologies,” Ink manages out between chuckles, drawing you from your spiraling thoughts. “Though… you did just hit me.”

“Yeah, will serves you right for sneaking up on me! Seriously, what the hell, man?! You're lucky it wasn't the eggs or something, shit.” You dig your phone from your pocket and turn the flashlight on, pointedly ignoring the skeleton and scouring the floor for any bread you might have missed.

“Ah, but can you really blame me?” Ink follows along as you place the floor spiced bread on the counter beside your other ingredients. He props himself against the counter, an elbow resting on the surface and his chin resting in his palm. You ignore his gaze—it doesn't feel as innocent and disarming as you're sure he’d like you to believe. “It’s so hard to pin you down, with how you’re holed away in your room as you’ve been lately,” he practically whines,

Just ignore him. Surely he’ll get bored and leave you alone. You busy yourself with inspecting the muffins. Knowing how cleanly roughly half of your cohabitants are, you doubt it’d kill you to still eat these. You pick two and begin dusting them off—just in case.

“Why is that, mon bonheur?”

You pull a sour face at his words and squeeze a piece of bread a little harder than it probably deserves. Was that… is he… is he speaking French? And the way he’s playing ignorant… you know he had heard your conversation with Rus that day. He damn well knows why you’ve made yourself scarce. You clench your jaw and don't acknowledge him, instead shifting to turn on the light from the over-the-stove microwave. You tell yourself the way the darkness twists and coils as it retreats from the light is a mere trick of your mind.

You need a pan.

“Ah, ma douce,” Ink goes on to say as you dig a small skillet from a cabinet, “must you give me the cold shoulder?”

Still very clearly ignoring the vexing skeleton, you settle the pan on the stove-top and ignite the burner. He says something, but what that something is you couldn't say, having opted to completely tune him out. You're still hungry and you still have an egg sandwich begging to be made, dammit.

As you reach for the egg carton the hairs on the back of your neck raise and a bolt of electricity shoots down your spine, radiating through your entire body. Not a second later, you feel the presence of someone settling behind you and arms moving to wrap around your waist.

"Ma poupée," Ink whispers into your ear, pulling you flush against him. You freeze. There’s a ringing in your ears and it’s suddenly hard to breathe. “Je veux juste un peu de goût…” 

Ink’s talking, you know he is, but all you can hear is Nightmare’s echoing warble, those tentacles holding you down, feeling trapped and unable to escape.

You don’t even register grabbing the pan from the stove, nor do you recall swinging it towards the shocked skeleton now standing several feet away, hands raised in a placating manner. Your chest is tight and there are tears streaming down your cheeks, your breath coming out in short, ragged pants.

You don’t know what just happened.

You look from your hand, grasping the pan’s handle in a white-knuckled grip, to the skeleton, and back to the pan. Had… had you really tried to hit Ink? A strange numbness washes over you at that realization.

You… you can’t deal with this right now, you can’t. You need… you need to get out of here—be anywhere but here; anywhere but that bedroom. Maybe… maybe some fresh air will do you some good?

You set the pan back on the stove and flick the burner off, moving as if in a fog. You don’t hear Ink call to you, don’t remember to put away the floor bread or the rest of the food stuffs you had pulled out, focused solely on getting as far away from him and everything wrong with this place as possible.

—–—–—–

Despite what a lot of people seem to think, Blue isn't an early riser by nature. No, that would actually be his brother—which Blue believes isn't very fair, considering how much the lazybones sleeps in and lazes about. It's not until he’s had a good cup of coffee (or three) that Blue feels like he’s adequately prepared to take on the day.

And thus, he starts his early morning by shuffling into the kitchen and brewing a pot of coffee. It’s early, roughly 5:30am, and the majority of the household is still asleep. Papyrus—the “classic” version of his brother, that is—is due up any minute; Edge will likely be short to follow. Hickory, despite the apparent Papyrus gene of being able to readily face the day the second one wakes up, often does not leave the room he shares with his brother until the late morning.

Blue is pulling down a mug (his top favorite one—something his brother had gotten for him a couple years back for Gyftmas, that appears to be nothing more than a plain black piece but once something hot is placed in it, a stunning scene of the aurora borealis is revealed) when the coffee maker gurgles out the last of its brew. And just in time, it seems, as Black shuffles into the kitchen, looking no less exhausted and rumpled than Blue feels. He grabs a tumbler (the one that reads, “I don't give a sip” in a loose script font) and hands it to his sharper self.

Black grunts out some unintelligible response (probably a thank you… probably), and wastes no time in pouring himself a heaping helping of coffee. Like his namesake, he prefers to drink the bitter bean juice black, and so wastes no time in screwing the lid shut and taking a generous sip. Blue, on the other hand, proceeds to stir in creamer and no less than three spoonfuls of sugar before helping himself to a taste.

He and his darker counterpart stand in silence for a few moments, leaning against the countertop, simply enjoying their chosen poison. It’s nice, Blue thinks, moments like these where he can just bask in the company of others.

Sufficiently caffeinated, Black is able to muster up the energy to string together a coherent sentence.

“So, Tell Me, What Is On The Agenda For Today?”

Huh. Black must be more worn out than Blue thought, for him to be speaking so softly. Work must be running him ragged.

Blue hums as he thinks on it. He’s got the day off—actually isn't needed in until next Tuesday, if he’s remembering correctly—so…

“I’M NOT SURE YET,” he admits. “PERHAPS AN EARLY MORNING JOG AND THEN I’LL SEE FROM THERE. WOULD YOU CARE TO JOIN?”

Black seems to ponder it as he takes a long pull from his tumbler, before finally, he grimaces and says, “No. Unfortunately Not Today. Perhaps Another Day.”

Blue frowns and sets his mug on the counter, turning to give Black a sympathetic look. “EARLY DAY?”

Black grumbles, his posture dipping into a slouch as he drags his claws over his face. “If Only That Were The End Of It…”

Blue winces. “OUCH… SORRY.”

With what can only be described as a whine, Black straightens his posture and pulls away from the counter. “It Is What It Is. But… Unfortunately I Best Be Off, Lest Those IMBECILES Screw Something Else Up.”

“GOOD LUCK!” Blue calls as Black heads off. The skeleton merely lifts a hand in acknowledgment before disappearing into the house. It's unfortunate Blue is down a running partner but he’s sure if he waits a bit longer, that problem will quickly resolve itself.

So he meanders over to the lounge, though not before refilling his mug with another helping of coffee.

Just as the skeleton is about to make himself comfortable on one of the couches, he catches something that registers as not quite right, out of the corner of his eye socket. He pauses and looks to the floor to ceiling glass windows that overlook the courtyard, gaze scanning for that irregularity and oh! There it is! Leaned up against the wall just outside the door leading out. Blue squints, focuses, and… is that-? It is! It’s you, their new human friend, sitting outside, propped against the wall. You're hidden in the shadows cast by the house this early in the morning but he can see you well enough.

Blue’s brows furrow. What are you doing out there? Temperatures don't  really affect him or any of the other skeletons but he knows humans are more sensitive to that sort of thing. And it isn't the warmest time of year, either—just the opposite, in fact! To make matters worse, it doesn't look like you have a jacket or even a blanket to help warm you up. Are you an idiot? Did you want to get yourself sick?

He sets his mug on the coffee table and hurries to the nearby linen closet, grabbing a heavy blanket and making his way to the door. He huffs as he maneuvers the door open, fumbling to not to drop the blanket, and rolls over a few choice words he's going to have to share with you. But when he finally gets a good look at you… it's not exactly… “good”.

It can't have been more than a week since your arrival and yet you look nothing like you had during that dinner. There are heavy shadows ringing your eyes and he’s not sure but… he thinks you look a little pale? Though that might be due to the fact you've been sleeping outside in the nippy morning air. Your clothes—the very same ones you had arrived in—are rumpled and probably well overdue for a wash. He can only describe your hair as a bird's nest—tangled and mussed as it is.

Really, he thinks, you should take better care of yourself! At least change into some… thing… else…

Oh. O-oh goodness.

Any building annoyance at your unkempt state drains away as it finally dawns on him. You had only arrived days ago, and like he and his brother and all the others before, you had appeared with nothing more than the clothes on your back. You didn't have anything else to change into, and stars, Blue realizes with a growing sense of guilt, not once have you asked for anything other than a phone charger. By the Angel, you probably felt uncomfortable asking them for anything.

Blue’s not an idiot, he’s more observant than a lot of people give him credit for, and he’s noticed a distinct lack of your presence lately. But he had chalked it up to you needing some time to settle in, to digest your situation. The more he thinks on it, however, the more ashamed he starts to feel. Maybe… maybe you had been purposefully isolating yourself from them? Red and Edge had made it painfully obvious they didn't like you—Edge in particular had been quite vocal in not wanting you around, and Blue had heard Red grumbling about you nearly bowling him over in the hallway, seemingly in a rush to get out of Classic’s room. When Blue had questioned Classic about it, he had merely brushed him off with an all too casual, “don't worry ‘bout it, s’nothin’ soul-shatterin’” and Blue had decided to take his counterpart at his word. But maybe… perhaps that had been a mistake?

He gently unfolds the blanket and carefully sets it around your shoulders, taking a seat on the chilled concrete beside you. You let out the softest of content sighs at the warmth now engulfing you and nuzzle into the fabric. The unbidden thought of how cute that is (how cute you are) flits across Blue’s mind. He lets that thought sit for a moment before pushing it away, feeling now isn't really an appropriate time for such things.

So he sits and he watches you, takes in how different you are when your defenses are down and you don't have to put on such a brave front—don't have to try and act like you're unaffected by the craziness happening to you. And he thinks… he hasn't been a very good friend to you, has he? To let you suffer alone as you clearly have been.

The more his thoughts spiral, the more he realizes they haven't been treating you very fairly at all, have they? Even the worst of them to appear hadn't been as ostracized, as persecuted as you have.

You shift in your sleep and he’s caught off guard when you suddenly tilt sideways, curling the blanket and clutching it tight to your chest. Your head finds its place in his lap and his sockets widen at that, magic rushing to his zygomatic bones in a heated blush. He just watches for a moment, frozen and afraid to move for fear of waking you. You really do look like you could use the sleep, which is odd because isn’t that all you’ve been doing lately?

…

…

…

He undoes the scarf from around his neck and, gingerly lifting your head, carefully places it between his femur and your head. He decides he can just do a double run tomorrow.

[skepticraven]

Dear Trump Fans,

I keep hearing you say that Trump has done so much for America but you never elaborate on that, even when I ask you to. So, I’m asking again & my question is simple. What has he done that you think is so great? Aside from insulting people you don’t like, I just don’t see any achievements. This is what I do see:

-Trump didn't end the overseas wars like he promised. Instead, he got us involved in Syria. And he has nearly started a couple new wars with Iran & North Korea

- It seems you don't have your giant, waste-of-money wall. You have a small amount of fencing that anyone could cross should they want to. And Mexico won't EVER pay for it. Now, I’m fine with no wall but you shouldn’t be. 

- Trump is trying to cut the CDC budget by almost 20% amidst a pandemic. 

- Trump fired the pandemic response team last year.

- Trump is already saying he wants everyone back to work by Easter & all of the churches full on Easter- except every doctor & all his medically educated advisors are advising Trump against that. The cases of coronavirus are still increasing rapidly. Sending people back into such close proximity to one another will only inflame the problem, increasing the number of infected & dead tenfold.

-Trump has violated the emoluments clause of the constitution by failing to put his assets in a blind trust & thus is charging foreign leaders & American politicians inflated prices to stay at his hotels to win his favor & get private access to the president since he goes there all the time

- Trump is guilty of blatant nepotism. For example, he appointed Jared Kushner to negotiate peace in the middle east, handle diplomacy with China & Mexico, address the opioid epidemic, manage the wall construction process, etc. Jared isn't qualified for any of that, he only has that job because he bones Trump's daughter. Jared wouldn’t be qualified to manage a Pizza Hut. He was born rich and has done nothing but lose billions when he landed in his father job because his father went to prison for tax evasion, witness tampering, & illegal campaign contributions.

- Trump, who claims to be tough on terrorism, signed a multi-billion dollar weapons deal with Saudi Arabia RIGHT AFTER they murdered & dismembered an American journalist. Not to mention the genocide they were waging in Yemen. There is a reason that 80% of the 9/11 terrorist were from Saudi Arabia.

- Trump has eliminated funding for programs that work to de-radicalize people in extremist groups/organizations & help them escape that life.

- Trump cut his own taxes & that of his rich buddies & corporations BY 40%. Due to all the tax loopholes & shady financial dealings (like equity swapping or offshore tax havens) which the wealthiest Americans & corporations do, they already historically weren't paying anywhere near the marginal tax rate they should be on paper. Trump cut the corporate marginal tax rate from 35% to 21%. So after the loopholes & their shady bullshit, they're very likely paying a lower effective tax rate than you are. Thanks to Trump, many paid no income taxes at all in 2018 like Amazon, Netflix, Chevron, IBM, Delta Airlines, General Motors, Whirlpool, Goodyear Tires, etc.

-Trump promised to reduce the deficit but he has actually raised it by a lot. When you decrease the amount of taxes coming in that drastically & you increase government spending that much, the deficit is going to increase. The Caronavirus situation has only exacerbated that problem but the problem was already there.

-Trump pulled out of the Iran deal, solely because Obama did it. And Mr. Art of the Deal did not even try to negotiate a new deal. 

- This great healthcare Trump promised hasn't happened. Less people have insurance now than when Trump first took office. Drug prices have only gone up. There have be cuts to Medicaid as well.

-Trump appointed a judge who clearly lied to congress & whom likely sexually assaulted someone. Why Trump did not pick a different conservative judge to nominate, I will never understand.

- Trump cut all the social safety net programs that help the poor & disabled: SSI Disability, Food Stamps, Medicaid, HUD, etc.

- Like it or not, Trump was technically impeached. He just wasn’t removed from office by the Senate because there are a bunch of scared Republicans who are too scared to do or say anything against Trump. Tribalism saved him. That’s it. Because he admitted on national television that he talked about Biden & his son on that phone call- you can even see the exact moment when he realizes he shouldn’t have said that. So, he did do what he was accused of.

-His administration is a revolving door of hiring & firing/quitting. Trump said he knew the best people so why would he need to fire so many of them? Think about how many people have come & gone. These are just some of the big names who left the administration but there are WAY MORE than I am listing: Rex Tillerson, Mike Pompeo, Scott Pruitt, Steve Bannon, John Bolton, Jeff Sessions, John Kelly, Anthony Scaramucci, Reince Priebus, Sean Spicer,  Sarah Sanders, James Mattis, Rick Perry, Nikki Haley, Dan Coats, Alexander Acosta, Scott Gottlieb, Bill Shine, Tom Price,  H.R. McMaster, Ryan Zinke, Mick Mulvaney, James Comey,  Sebastian Gorka, Omarosa Newman, Gary Cohn, Don McGahn, Rod Rosenstein, Michael Flynn, Sally Yates, Tom Homan, Ty Cobb, Tom Bossert, K.T. McFarland, Rob Porter, Dina Powell, Rick Dearborn, Matthew Whittaker, Ezra Cohen-Watnick, Hope Hicks, Brenda Firtzgerald, Rob Snyder, Michael Dubke, Sean Doocey, etc.

-This is kind of a minor point but it does illustrate Trump’s hypocrisy.  Trump criticized Obama for golfing so much & then Trump turns around & plays 2.6 times more golf than Obama in his first 2 years and 91 days & has cost the tax payer an estimated $74 million more than Obama. 

- Does it ever embarrass you how little Trump knows about anything? Ever notice how he never goes in depth talking about anything? Its all vague because he doesn’t know enough about healthcare or the Iran Deal or climate change to address it in any kind of depth. You still see that idiocy spill out regardles. During an interview for SiriusXM’s P.O.T.U.S. channel, Trump said that former President Andrew Jackson was angry about the Civil War. The only problem is, Jackson couldn’t have been angry about the war. He died in 1845. The Civil War was in 1861. Another example would be during a call with Canada’s prime minister, Justin Trudeau, Trump claimed Canada burned down the White House during the War of 1812. Canada didn’t exist as a country until 1867. That was the British... Trump also claimed General John J. Pershing dealt with Muslim terrorists by shooting them with bullets dipped in pig’s blood. That did not happen. The story began circulating the internet around the September 11 terrorist attacks. Apparently Trump believed it was factual, talking about it during his 2016 presidential campaign & again after a terror attack in Barcelona. Then, speaking to the conservative radio host Hugh Hewitt, Trump confused the Quds Force, a unit of Iran’s Revolutionary Guard, with the Kurds, the minority group battling ISIS in northern Iraq (who he would later abandoned). Maybe that confusion could be forgiven for an average Joe but if you’ president, you need to know stuff like that (especially given the region these two groups are in). Hence why most presidents study political science, law, or economics in college or at least, they bother to read up on this stuff. But Trump doesn’t really read. The only book he claims to have read was a biography about Andrew Jackson whom, he thought was mad about a war that happened 16 years after his death & he also seems to have missed the whole Trail of Tears thing.

-  By pulling out of the Iran Nuclear Deal & the Paris Climate Accord, Trump has isolated us from our allies. Our word means nothing anymore. And who can blame them for being pissed? Whether Iran has a nuclear weapon effect more than just us. Given the size of our nation, our refusal to take the looming threat of climate change seriously is a detriment to the entire world that can & likely will have devastating consequences for everyone. Furthermore, Trump trash talks our closest allies & has placed tariffs on nearly all of them. For example:

AUSTRALIA: Shortly after taking office, Trump reportedly berated then-Australian Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull over an agreement between the U.S. and Australia involving refugee resettlement. 

CANADA: Trump also attacked Canadian President Justin Trudeau as “meek, mild, dishonest, & weak” during a conversation on trade at the G7 summit in 2018. He also threatened to withhold the U.S.’s signature from a joint communique from the meeting over the feud. Trudeau he also found it “insulting” that tariffs were placed on Canada under a rarely invoked law that allows levies to be placed on a country in the interest of national security. Since when is Canada a national security threat? 

DENMARK: Trump also went after Denmark’s Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen after she refused to sell him Greenland. She called the idea “absurd,” & Trump referred to her as “nasty & inappropriate.” The people that live there don’t want to become American. You can’t just buy a country on whim. Greenland belongs to Denmark but its semi-autonomous. 

FRANCE: Trump threatened to slap tariffs on French wine & called French President Emmanuel Macron “foolish” after he signed a digital services tax on tech companies making at least 750 MILLION EUROS annually, a figure which meant U.S.-based tech giants like Apple, Google, Facebook & Amazon would be included. 

GERMANY: Trump has had a particularly tumultuous relationship with German Chancellor Angela Merkel. The president has repeatedly threatened Germany with auto tariffs, saying if companies like BMW and Mercedes wanted to sell cars in the U.S., they should build them in the country. German Chancellor Angela Merkel on Friday criticized President Donald Trump's tweets about four Democratic congresswomen of color telling them to go back to where they came from. She said that the president's tweets contradict "the strength of America." "I distance myself firmly from this & feel solidarity with the women who were attacked," Merkel said. (Canada’s prime minister, Justin Trudeau also criticized Trump for the same thing).

JAPAN: Trump has lamented the U.S.’s responsibility to defend Japan if attacked, saying the alliance between Washington & Tokyo is uneven. Trump has also threatened Japan with auto tariffs, though it announced in May it was delaying any levies for six months. 

MEXICO: President Trump has repeatedly torn into Mexico, slamming it on trade but focusing much of his ire on the country over immigration. Trump has threatened America’s southern neighbor with tariffs over its alleged inaction in working to stem the flow of undocumented migrants in the U.S. And let’s face it, he doesn’t exactly talk about the Mexican people in the nicest way and stroked racial tensions.

SWEDEN: President Trump feuded with Swedish Prime Minister Stefan Löfven after American rapper A$AP Rocky was detained in Sweden & charged with assault following a June incident in Stockholm. Apparently Kanye West told Trump about it. 🙄 The rapper was ultimately released in & returned to the U.S AFTER he was convicted & had to pay a fine (plus time served).

UNITED KINGDOM: While Trump has bashed the United Kingdom over trade practices, threatening tariffs on one of the U.S.’s closest allies to rectify what he sees as an imbalance, he has directed much of his criticism toward the country’s handling of Brexit. He also attacked the UK's National Health Service, claiming it is "going broke & not working." That’s not true but its not really his business either way. Trump is so disliked in the UK that at one point, 75,000 protestors gathered in central London’s Trafalgar Square to protest U.S. President Trump’s visit to the U.K

SOUTH KOREA: The Trump administration is reportedly demanding South Korea pay 400% more for U.S. troops in the region- despite the fact that having a base in South Korea is essential as much for us as it is for them. We need a base near North Korea should we ever have to attack. Maybe raising it some is reasonable but raising anything 400% overnight is a little absurd.

I see failure & corruption in Trump. I see a danger to America. Feel free to try to change my mind.

[moiraineswife]

Ep 55 Caleb Meta

Warning: This post will contain a)- Spoilers for episode 55. If you haven’t seen it yet BEGONE. b)- Angst. Bc. Caleb. c)- yelling. if u haven’t worked out already: these posts are not planned. these posts are not thought-through. these posts are not edited. these posts are a stream of consciousness shrieking at the void that is u lot. Enjoy. 

So. Uh. That episode was like..................A lot. Lots to unpack. LOTS. So I’m just going to touch on Caleb and the very specific niche deliciousness of him being completely and utterly retraumatised in that episode and how it may or may not pan out in future. 

Meta under the cut bc it got Long. 

So, DIVING IN: the nature of trauma in itself is repetition. Nightmares, flashbacks (of all their various forms) are ways in which the trauma itself repeats. Basically your brain Cannot Cope with what’s happened so it tries to just put you through the same thing over and over again like process this please. 

Caleb has been dealing with that for at least a decade since the original trauma took place. Then we pile on the (highly symbolic and super-interesting in a really fucked up way bit of magic that is Modify Memory (i assume) which I have to meta on more in future) which is effectively a false memory that was removed (that his parents were guilty/in his twisted-logic mind deserved what they got) which makes a very interesting mirror for suppressed memories (again: big trauma thing. In which your brain Cannot Cope so hard it just blots the bad memory out of existence entirely) so he’s a whole mess of being trapped in an endless cycle of his horrible past (PTSD is a Trip, y’all). 

This is...An echo of that but it’s something new. It’s very much the same KIND of thing, so it plays in to the trauma-repetition, but it’s a new incarnation of it. History repeating itself, etc, etc, delicious irony, all that great stuff fiction-creators live for.  

It’s going to be deeply upsetting for Caleb. (No shit, Taryn). But it so beautifully, and terribly, feeds in to his deep-rooted fears that he is a toxic person, and that those around him are destined to get hurt (by him, not by him, it doesn’t really matter to the guilt brain, it’s all just fuel for that fire). 

For example: Liam spoke on Talks about how, regarding Molly’s death, Caleb almost expected it because yup, that seems about right, par for the course. It’s one of the big reasons he’s been extremely reluctant to let the Mighty Nein get close to him (he’s directly said this in canon at this point, in his conversation with Beau). 

He feels dangerous. He sees himself as dangerous. Partly because he sees himself as being constantly in danger, and by extension, those around him are also in danger. That’s external. 

The internal part of him has been screaming ‘you killed the two people who loved you the most in the world in an unprovoked attack because you’re a monster’ for over a decade at this point. Not only does he not deserve any of these people, he feels like he’s destined to hurt them, no matter what he does, or how hard he tries. 

This, uh, reinforces that in a very deep, obvious, and painful way. Not to mention the fact that, not only did he hurt them he hurt them with fire. Again. So it’s almost exactly the same pattern of shit coming back to haunt him for a second time: 

Trent: Mental manipulation magic - fire - dead loved ones  Demon: mental manipulation magic - fire - nearly dead loved ones. 

It’s Bad. It’s Real Bad. That boy is going to have the panic attack of his life when he recovers from the immediate adrenaline rush of the fight. It’s not going to be pretty. 

It’s going to drive home everything that little voice inside his head that sounds like Trent has been telling him since he joined these people. It’s going to undo all the struggle it’s taken to ignore that voice up to this point because don’t you see what happens when you get close to people? They can be used against you. You can be used against them. They become your weakness and you become weak because you care. Because this hurts. And if you were stronger, and smarter, then it wouldn’t... etc etc etc. *insert emotionally manipulative bullshit here* 

BUT! 

I actually think this could actually be good for him in a really weird way? 

Hear me out: 

Caleb has been living in a trauma loop for over ten years at this point. He’s been going over the same memories again and again and again, but he hasn’t done anything with them. He hasn’t actually fully processed what happened to him. And, and this is the biggest part: he hasn’t had anyone to push against. 

It takes a lot to recognise abuse. It takes a lot in the modern world when there are phones, helplines, the internet and, let’s be honest: awareness. There are words for these experiences and there’s more chance of, accidentally or deliberately, stumbling across help out there that can look at a situation from an outside perspective and go: this is fucked up. 

This is what Caleb needs. 

On his own it’s almost impossible for him to recognise what was done to him and fully process it and begin to heal from it in a healthy way. Caleb has not actually started the process of recovery for anything that happened to him yet because Caleb does not yet recognise/understand what there is to process/recover from. 

In Caleb’s mind, he is a monster. He did an unforgivable thing because he believed his parents deserved it as they were traitors. He broke because he was not strong enough to handle what he’d done. He was sent to an asylum and since escaping he’s just been afraid. That’s the only emotion he’s got towards Trent right now: fear. And it’s suppressing all logic, self-awareness, and the ability to think rationally about what went on. 

Caleb was abused. Caleb was manipulated, mentally, emotionally, and magically. Caleb was a vulnerable kid who was deliberately chosen, carefully groomed, and then skilfully brainwashed by a figure with an enormous amount of literal and emotional power over him. Caleb was abused. 

Caleb does not see this. 

Caleb does not recognise that he was abused. 

And I think this is where a lot of issues with Caleb kinda stem from in fandom? Because people look at him and just...How can he NOT understand that he was manipulated. Huh. Maybe he wasn’t. Because it’s just that damned obvious how could he not understand this? 

Abusers rely on that. Abusers rely on their victims not understanding what they’re doing to them. Particularly when their victims are young, with relatively little real-world experience, and absolutely no grounding/preparation to recognise or combat any of this, in a society that is more accepting of the kind of teaching that radicalised Caleb than most are. 

Caleb needs an outside perspective to look at what he went through and go ‘you know that’s fucked up, right?’ He’s kind of had that from Beau and Nott but not enough. Someone has to sit him down and go through every piece of what happened and be like ‘this is not okay’ ‘what he did to you was not okay’ ‘this is called abuse’ and then consistently validate those experiences until he understands. 

Caleb has over ten years of trauma to process and unlearn. That...That does not happen overnight. That does not happen because your new friend looks at you and goes ‘yeah that was fucked up, dude’ and suddenly it all crystallises in your mind and becomes clear. That takes work. And effort. And a willingness to feel something beyond fear for your abuser and Caleb is Not There yet. 

What this last fight does, though, is open up the possibility of Caleb starting to accept this a little bit. 

Jester: “What the fuck, Caleb?” 

Caleb: “I am sorry...They got inside my head.” 

This is actually....Kinda huge for Caleb? Actually it’s kinda massive. This is Caleb experiencing a trauma incredibly similar to what he went through when he was younger (but on a much smaller scale, with far less dire outcomes) and being able to look at it and, still apologise, but explain that he was not in control of himself, and that ‘they got inside his head’. 

This is the step he needs to take with Trent, too, this is the same admission that he needs to make to himself, and this is the first step that has to happen before he can even begin to start processing and healing his trauma. And he needs help with that. 

This is not the part where I say I expect the mighty nein to become Caleb’s therapists. But they can be friends, they can be a support network, but most importantly: they can be an outside perspective. 

They can’t process his trauma for him. They can’t work through his issues for him. They can’t take away any of his grief, or his guilt, or his pain, or his PTSD. They can’t make what Trent did go away. But they can point it out. 

They can raise a red flag. They can point it out and say ‘this is not okay’. They can put a name to it. They can validate it. They can do the things that Caleb cannot do himself, which is look at what happened and be able to acknowledge, without the burden of guilt, and the fact that it’s so much easier to blame, and hurt, and punish himself than a figure he’s terrified of, and say that it was not okay, and explain to him what happened. 

They can help him acknowledge his abuse and then he can start to help himself heal from it. 

But this fight is, essentially, a microcosm of Caleb’s past. And I hope that if (when, please god when) the mighty nein, who were all either a)- directly charmed themselves, or b)- resisted the effect but were aware of its intentions and capabilities, do not react the way Caleb expects them to react (ie: the way he reacted to himself) with anger, and hatred, and blame, that’s going to start unlocking things. 

I don’t expect a massive breakthrough next episode, don’t get me wrong, this is going to be a long, careful, painful process. But I think even the acknowledgement that someone affected that way by magic, or by emotional abuse, is not themselves, and is not, ultimately, to blame for what they may have done (or weak/somehow complicit in ‘allowing’ themselves to be targeted/victimised) is going to prove a really big thing for Caleb in the future. 

Just that acknowledgement that they don’t blame him for what happened, that they understand he wasn’t himself, and that it wasn’t within his control to stop what was happening could, I think, prove huge in terms of his recovery further down the line... 

TL;DR: Caleb experienced his past again on a much smaller scale with this fight, but having the party around him to react to him/it and reach out to him, and tell him it’s okay and that they don’t blame him will do A Lot for unlocking his potential recognition of abuse and recovery down the line. 

[skamamoroma]

Vediamo/We’ll See - Thoughts (or, as I like to call it, Megan rambles about giraffes for far too long)

As requested (by you lovely lot), my rambles on this clip. And what a clip it is!

This one made me sob. Full on tears down my face, need a tissue sob. It was equal parts heartbreaking and soothing which is Skam allover isn’t it?!

I think this one is one of my absolute favourites so far. I’ve been dying to see more of Mamma Rametta (when will we learn her name?!) and I have a feeling we’ll see more but this was some of what we needed after the other evening.

Her’s a long winded way of saying that everything about this clip was ever so special, the acting was stunning, the symoblism was completely perfect and in equal parts, brutal but beautiful.

So, first off, Ludo and the god damn synthy atmospheric music that has plagued me for weeks. I LOVE this kind of music and god has he used it to his advantage so much. This one is so sad but kind of helps us feel how Marti’s head is spinning. He’s a couple of days post Milan but his mind is still confused and full of hurt and sadness. He has internalised Maddalena’s words and yet is still researching. But as we all know, the internet is not always the best place to be when you’re researching a complex illness or medical issue. We can see him looking at elements of ‘suicide’ and this is a boy who we know has had a lot of exposure to mental illness but doesn’t have a lot of understanding so, to him, this must be very difficult to comprehend and so he will take things at face value. 

I love seeing Marti in his room. It’s SO BLUE but so cosy still. I also love seeing him in his sweatshirt bottoms because he always looks like the cuddliest bean. Bless him. 

We know he hasn’t heard from Nico but when we see that text it’s the first interaction they’d had post-Milan and poor Marti is still so confused and hurt and in the belief that he’s just another ‘someone’ to Nico, just a temporary thing. It KILLS me because we know, even when Nico was at his worst, it was still ALL about Marti. It’s where his heart is. 

AND THEN THE TEXT MESSAGE. Oh god. I am so VERY pleased that I was actually having a nap when this came out because I watched the translated version and not the website version first and when I read the translation of that text it made me cry instantly.

We’ve seen/heard of giraffes 4 times so far:  - The drawing on Nico’s wall - The beer glasses at the Halloween party that Nico loved - Nico’s discussion as to what he’d do as the Last Man - The flip book/horse riding lessons

There had to be a reason why Nico had this love of this animal and brought it up so many times. There had to be something about the giraffe that he loved and finding out what it is absolutely broke me because its SO BEAUTIFUL and SO perfect for his character I am still a little speechless as to how they did this. I didn’t for one moment think that any remake (and I was never down with remakes of the original in the first place until I realised there’d be an Italian one and saw the stunning trailer) would ever be able to match OR supercede the original in terms of layers of metaphor and nuanced symbolism but then THIS SEASON.... good lord. 

First of all, Nico had to make that giraffe. ON AN OLD MOBILE PHONE. To me, that’s almost impossible. Nico, the sweetheart, went to the effort of making that adorable kind of sad looking punctuation giraffe just to send to Marti. 

Then the words - “The giraffe’s heart is far from its thoughts. She fell in love yesterday and she doesn’t know yet”.

I swear, I didn’t think they’d do this. I didn’t think they’d make it THIS meaningful. Nico’s love for giraffes suddenly makes a ridiculous amount of sense. He actually IDENTIFIES with them to explain himself in terms of his illness. What a heartrendingly beautiful and gut wrenching sentiment. AH. I’m so in love with it.

The idea that head and heart are distanced and that love can exist in the heart that the brain may not realise yet just honestly makes me want to cry. 

I’m a sucker for this stuff. I am legitimately ALL ABOUT this kind of thing, the metaphorical and symbolic nature of things that people cling to or use to help them through life and Nico broke me with this. We understand him so much more. I wish Marti would have perhaps spent more time READING that to understand it because Nico is effectively telling him he loves him, that his heart is separate to his brain, that he can feel things but sometimes his brain isn’t on the same page and that his love for Marti is what is real. 

He kissed Marti’s heart. He drew a coffee heart. He puts so much stock in the HEART because he’s literally saying that his brain betrays him and doesn’t necessarily reflect what’s in his heart. But we STILL saw him in his episode and Marti was everything to him. He’s so full of love and it’s terribly sad that he has such a tough time because of his illness.

I don’t blame Marti for blocking his number. It’s really sad that he did but Marti doesn’t understand anything, he thinks he’s being played or used and that his time with Nico is meaningless. Looking at their history and the whole situation where Nico ‘went back’ to Maddalena, his doubts almost have foundation in reality and then Maddalena just confirmed them. I don’t know what will happen with Friday’s clip and the phone but we shall have to wait and see with that. 

And then the focus is all on Marti and his mamma. Oh my. This scene. This beautiful beautiful scene. First off, Mamma Rametta has the most insanely gorgeous hair. It’s just CUTE that we know where Marti gets his hint of red from in his curls. It’s that instant familiarity and closeness you feel when you see them both. ALSO SHE ALWAYS WEARS BLUE. Like mother, like son <3

The way he shouted is something I think many people can understand. He’s not able to share. He doesn’t feel able to be open with her for many reasons but the main two, I think, are that he doesn’t want her to be burdened with this stuff as he doesn’t think she can cope with it and also because he can’t be truthful without explaining his sexuality.

The way Fede plays this though is so pitch perfect. He’s stressed, tearful, frustrated and heartbroken. It’s a heady mix and I adore Fede’s performance. He’s wonderful. 

But I ALSO adore Mamma Rametta’s persistence. She won’t leave. I got a true sense of her as a mother here and a little of Martino’s fierceness. She was not going to let her son make her leave because she KNOWS he isn’t ok. 

That door slam, the door handle hitting the floor and Marti pressing his head to the other side of the door hurt like hell but it was so well done. 

AGAIN WITH THE SYMBOLISM LUDO. Just as Nico stood on the other side of bars, Marti is on the other side of a door to his Mama and she CAN’T GET TO HIM. She can’t open the door herself. Marti has to open the door for them. He has to take the first step to find their connection again and I loved how that was all shown in the way the clip was shot. YET AGAIN, this show stuns me with the way it uses cinematography to convey a message. UGH, so great.

I felt Fede’s acting in this moment. I’ve been in this moment. I’ve felt as he felt and he. was. wonderful. You could feel his frustration and sadness and instant regret and his little voice “are you sitting there”?

But then you see Mamma Rametta and she’s sitting alongside a quote written on Marti’s wall:  :Joy lies in the fight, in the attempt, in the suffering involved, not in the victory itself”

Oh Marti. I don’t know when he wrote that but the fact he did tells me he’ll be ok. To have his Mamma sitting next to THOSE WORDS is so meaningful and is a summary of this entire season. God, has Marti suffered and fought and been brave... It’s a summary of his bravery. He’ll TRY. SO GOD DAMN BEAUTIFUL. I keep using that word. Damnit. Haha. It’s so true though. 

“We’re so happy in this house, huh?” - and isn’t that just the thing you say to a loved one or someone close? That self aware, self deprecating thing you can say even in difficult moments? He recognizes for them both that they’re both sad and it’s a little moment of connection even if they can bond over the sadness, at least they can bond. 

The tears. I was a little emotional by this point what with the GIRAFFE of it all but those tears. Marti looks so exhausted and forlorn and just worn down. I miss his smile every single time it goes away. 

His almost bitter laugh and eye roll at the knowledge that his father has betrayed his trust was perfectly played by Fede because COME ON. His dad did that? That’s not ok. He asked him not to, specifically. There was nothing there in his chat with his dad to suggest that Marti was in trouble or upset that may have prompted his father to tell his mother so it seems pretty awful to me that his father did this and still hasn’t contacted Marti about it, hasn’t responded with any words of comfort or love. I don’t know where that’s going but it’s really sad for Marti. 

And then the bit that breaks me ever single time. God there are tears as I’m writing this. When Marti says he doesn’t know if his sexuality matters to his Mamma... MY GOD, the way she says his name. Her broken voice through tears is just gut wrenching. 

“You’re the most important thing in my life”. The words Marti needs to hear and, by the sound of it, the words his mamma needed to say. She can hardly get them out. Marti’s reaction kills me because it’s full of relief. He SMILES. Her words get through to him and the way, from this point onwards, he SMILES is like a plaster to the heart, it’s so soothing and comforting to see that kind of relief. It’s so comforting to also see a mother who is struggling but trying HARD (like the quote says) and who still is taking the opportunity to tell her son that no matter what, he is what’s important to her. For any person who struggles with their sexuality or who has to perhaps face a moment of honesty with a loved one like this..... well, for me, it’s really damn emotional and full of hope. 

Mamma Rametta needs all of the cuddles and love. I’ve adored her since we first saw her but GOD, look at her trying so hard. I love that her first idea is to spend time with her son, to talk. She’s offering him that and effectively telling him that she’s there for him and that she WANTS them to reconnect. He looks grateful.

And that’s when you truly believe they’re family and see their mother/son bond because there’s this banter between them even in the midst of all of this sadness and heartbreak and confusion.... 

Vediamo. 

Ah god, it’s simply so cute. She knows her son. Her little joke makes him smile and even laugh because he knows it’s true... and just like that’s there’s so much WARMTH. They’ve made a connection and I love that Marti looks up at the handle because of course he’s going to let her out of the room and HE is going to be the one to remove that barrier between them. 

It’s the first step to repairing their relationship and it’s simple but such a truly meaningful moment and absolutely one of my favourites of the entire season. I KNOW we will get to see more of Marti and his Mamma and I can’t wait. 

Now, I need a tissue <3

[tessatechaitea]

Teen Titans Spotlight #13: Cyborg

What are the two faces of evil? Cyborg's two halves? The two different houses Cyborg is climbing into at the same time? The gun and not the gun? The two cats in the painting? Probably Two-face?

Oh! I just understood this! I figured the chrome was Cyborg's face and the green was Two-Face's face. I thought maybe the pink was the other half of Two-Face's face but I couldn't figure out the other one until I finally started discussing black super heroes! I blame the lighting in my office and/or the colorist because the Victor "face" just seemed gold to me.

Two-Face sees Cyborg on television recognizes himself on a completely superficial level. But the superficiality is the point! He sees that Cyborg is accepted as a hero while he's seen as a monster. Maybe if Harvey Dent had become half sleek and shiny instead of half gross and disgusting, people would have accepted him and he could have gone on being a district attorney. But then it's also not the point because Two-Face understands that the people see Cyborg's deeds before they see his deformities (I probably would never refer to Cyborg's robotic parts as deformities but when you see some nice alliteration flashing its genitals in your face, you just got to put that shit in your mouth and go with it). And that's sort of the problem. Two-Face saw himself as a monster and thus began acting like one. Cyborg may think of himself as a monster from time to time but he doesn't let it stop him from making the world a better place. Harvey just uses his deformity as an excuse to not give a fuck anymore.

"We need an ad that declares 'Little kids who build our models fuck!"

I know I've suggested a ton of ways I'd use a time machine if I had access to one but I think I just came up with the thing I'd do first. I'd go back in time and tell the MPC model car company to get a different advertiser because I think their current one is a total pedo. Victor goes on a date with some woman named Cynthia Adams. I'd probably remember who she was if I didn't constantly fall asleep reading Cyborg comic books. I'm fairly certain I've used that line before but it's also possible I've just dreamed it every time I've fallen asleep reading a Cyborg comic. After the date, Victor doesn't score but mostly because Cynthia was being modest and chaste and instead of saying, "Show me that cyber-weenie, you sexy hunk of metal!", she just lets him go while secretly hoping he comes back to ravish her.

If she wasn't so thirsty, she never would have buzzed Two-Face right up!

Two-Face kidnaps Cynthia and uses the threat of her death to make Cyborg do what Harvey wants. Two-Face is all, "They'll see! There's no difference between us! None at all! Except maybe the kidnapping. And the obsessive coin flipping. And all the crimes. The only people hate me is because I'm not hot! But I'm a nice guy to! They'll see! They'll all see!" Cyborg's first task is to sneak into a woman's room and get his next task on a note under her alarm clock. But when the alarm goes off and she catches him, she calls him a monster! After escaping, Victor Stone doesn't think, "Fucking Two-Face. He made me scare the shit out of that woman by breaking into her house and startling her awake! Of course she was scared and called me a monster! Fuck, at least she didn't call me the n-word!" Instead, Victor thinks, "My name is Victor Stone. I am not a monster." Damn. Two-Face's plan is really going to work, isn't it?!

I'm perplexed as to why Cyborg begins jerking off in this panel.

While arguing with himself, Harvey admits that they first began calling themselves a monster. So the entire experiment is flawed! Two-Face wants to be able to blame his monstrous tendencies on the people who called him a monster because of the way he looked. So he's going to get Victor called a monster multiple times in one night and Victor will obviously snap! Who wouldn't?! I remember when I was called fat in junior high all those times while being fat that I became fat. No wait. Maybe that was somebody else. Nobody made fun of me because I was so fucking disconnected from what was going on around me that I never noticed. There were way better targets in junior high than me! I just went around telling everybody about how awesome Elfquest was. And they were all, "Really, fatty? Can I read your copy?" And I was all, "Sure! See you at the D&D game at lunch!"

I know I'm supposed to be reading this as if it took place in 1987 where you were supposed to think it was the robot half that everybody was afraid of and judging as a criminal. But this is 2019 and, well.

Imagine how short this issue would have been if Cyborg was connected to the Internet or had an internal cell phone. He must have had some internal gadget that could page Nightwing or the Gotham Police that he simply forgot about in the moment. Oh no, of course not. What am I thinking?! This is the era where Cyborg's only attachment was the white noise cannon! Cyborg finally confronts Two-Face on page 23 because this story is 25 pages long! Wow, I thought I was yawning a lot more than usual, even for a Cyborg story. Anyway, Two-Face declares he killed Cynthia thirty minutes ago because he totally read Watchmen and was all, "Oh fuck. That's a cool line. I am so using it some day!" But even that doesn't convince Cyborg to kill Two-Face. And while it means Two-Face gets to live, it also means Two-Face has to live with himself and the knowledge that maybe he was the real monster all along. Surprise! It wasn't society at all! Even though we all know it actually is society. People are fucking terrible. Surprise again! Cynthia was in a Two-Face mask and Two-Face was trying to get Cyborg to kill her! What a dumby! Hasn't he learned anything from Batman? If a hero doesn't kill, the hero doesn't kill! Sure, if this was Red Hood, Cynthia would be a fucking bullet sponge right now. But that's because he's expected to kill! How often does a hero who doesn't kill suddenly start killing? If you discount Hal Jordan. And Green Arrow. And Black Lightning. And Wonder Woman. And Black Canary. And Guy Gardner. And Fire. And Starman. And Obsidian. And Dr. Fate. And Black Canary. And, you know what, maybe this is too many ands for my initial premise to remain valid. Never mind. The issue ends with Two-Face realizing the problem wasn't "Cyborg could have been Two-Face" but that "Two-Face could have been Cyborg." Live with it, asshole. Teen Titans Spotlight #13: Cyborg Rating: B. I often tout Cyborg as boring because writers always simply do the same things with him. And while this is still another "Am I human?!" story arcs, at least it had a nice twist in that Cyborg plays off of a villain that you wouldn't have expected. Usually the writer brings in another character that's part robotic so that Cyborg can see his own humanity through the flaws of his foe. But has a writer ever thought, "Hey! Cyborg and Two-Face look fairly similar. I bet there's a story there?" Well, at least one did! And I'm happy to say they made a fairly decent go of it. Although wouldn't it have been nice if this story had been the last word on Cyborg's anxiety about how human he is?! Man, what if this was all the therapy he needed and for the next thirty years, DC audiences had been given a healthy Cyborg who would always be, "Oh yeah, I'm part robot! But I'm still all human! Want to fuck, baby?!" I miss that Cyborg that never existed.

[dp-pastandpresent]

Past and Present: Chapter 23

The wheels in Danny's head were spinning as he stood with the Fentons in their lab.

'Of course! I knew I had seen something similar to my amulet before! Clockwork had a whole wall of them in his lair when he brought me back. But if he told me their meaning, I sure can't remember it now'

Maddie was sitting in a chair, tapping away on her computer keyboard, trying to piece together the mystery of Sam's disappearance.

Jack was pacing by the portal, rather loudly muttering something about how this was all their fault.

'I wonder how many realms have their own amulets. The one I have isn't the same as his…'

'Is that really what matters right now? After all, Sam is MISSING and we know it had to be Clockwork!'

'But he never struck me as the type to abduct someone. Yes, he lied and has clearly been feeding me memories, but abduction?'

'Maybe he knows something I don't. About this prophecy. Maybe it has to do with Sam…'

The thought of Sam being somehow involved with Danny's apparent destiny made him shiver. As much as he had fallen for her recently, he hated thinking he would be the reason for her getting hurt.

A loud banging sound followed by an "ugh" brought Danny back to reality. Looking over to Maddie at the computer, he saw that her head was down in frustration.

"You would think that Google would know a little bit more about these ghosts!"

"Google?" Danny asked, confused yet again by the computer lingo.

Maddie turned around, a small smile on her face.

"Right, different time. Google – it's a program on the internet you use to find information other people put online."

Danny shook his head , only understanding about half of what she had just said.

Jack walked over and put his hand on Danny's shoulder.

"Trust me, my boy, if Google can't find it, then we're out of luck!"

"I had a feeling you'd say that," Danny sighed as he looked at the ground.

"It's not that the information doesn't exist, it's just that it hasn't been found yet," Maddie added, trying to add a bit of optimism. "There's a reason there are only a few para-psychology schools out there, and your sister got laughed at for attending one of them."

"It's just not fair! Somebody has to know what's going on!" Danny shouted, moving away from the Fenton couple.

"We've tried everything shy of going into the Ghost Zone ourselves," Maddie said, trying to keep her cool.

"And we're not about to do that without a proper map and protection!" Jack added.

A light in Danny's head went on at this, and he turned back to look at them.

"Why not send me? I'm a ghost, I've been in before, and have been wanting to go back for a while. Let me go in and get some answers!"

The two Fentons looked at each other, raising their eyebrows. The look on Jack's face showed how much he desperately wanted to send the boy in, but the look on Maddie's said how much she wanted to keep him safe. As always, Maddie seemed to win out.

Jack was the first to respond with a sigh.

"Danny, as much as I would love to send you in there, we haven't properly mapped it yet. Every device we've created to send in has disappeared or exploded within the first few minutes."

"It's just not safe, especially with your powers on the fritz," Maddie added.

He had been so obsessed with Clockwork and finding Sam, Danny had forgotten that he was still in his human form, having tried to use his amulet after coming downstairs to no avail.

"I know, I know! But we cannot just wait for the answers to appear to us. We have to do SOMETHING! Didn't your examination of his medallion tell you ANYTHING?"

The first thing they had done upon arriving in the lab was to investigate and test Clockwork's medallion, searching its surface for any indication of its origin and power.

"DAMNIT DANNY, DON'T YOU THINK WE'RE TRYING?!" Jack boomed to the boy in front of him, his hands shaking.

Danny was taken aback at this, having never experienced the true wrath of Jack Fenton before. "Yes, of course, it's just…"

"No. Listen here. We have been searching FOREVER to find information about the Ghost Zone. About YOU! And now here you are, and suddenly we're caught in this web created by a ghost we don't have any information about! Don't you think that if we knew more we'd be doing it right now!? This is mine, my wife's, YOUR SISTER'S life work, and now it's put an innocent girl at risk!"

Jack let out a loud sigh before falling to the ground and putting his head in his hands. A muffled sobbing sound followed.

Maddie looked at Danny before bending over to check on her husband.

"Jack, please, we know how important this research has been to you, but you can't blame yourself for what happened to Sam."

Jack raised his head and looked at his wife with big, tear-filled eyes.

"Mads, I always knew our research would get results, but I never thought it would put an innocent girl in danger. I just want to take it all back."

Danny hated what he was hearing and knew that the Fentons needed a bit of privacy. Turning his back to them, he walked over to the table where Clockwork's medallion was currently sitting.

'There has to be an answer to this. Futuristic tech or not, something has to be able to crack this thing!'

Danny's hand brushed across the bottom one last time, only to notice a small hole that resembled the ones he had seen Jack using to plug things into his computer.

'Would Clockwork really put a normal, human hook up in his ghostly device?'

Danny knew next to nothing about current technology, and having investigated the lab on multiple occasions, knew that the Fentons' lab only housed the technology needed for to run their gadgets – never anything normal.

He paused to think, wondering if there were another way to sate his curiosity over the technology that was housed within the medallion. Finally, he remembered something Sam had told him once.

Turning to the Fentons, who had both gotten up from the ground, Jack still with red eyes but no longer crying, Danny smiled.

"I have an idea."

--

"You want me to what?" Sarah asked the boy, eyes getting big behind her thick glasses.

"Those things everyone carries and stares at all the time. The little devices, you have one right?"

"Danny, dear, I think you mean an iPhone?" Maddie offered, coming up behind him.

After having explained his idea to the Fentons downstairs, the group had returned to the living room where Sarah was waiting impatiently for answers.

"Well why didn't you say so! Of course I have one, but I barely know how to use the thing…" she replied as she pulled the device from her pocket.

"Warren insists I keep this thing in case I get hurt," she muttered.

"Perfect!" Danny said with a grin. "Do you have the book on it?"

Sarah raised her eyebrows.

"The book, the one with the friends?"

Maddie stepped in yet again, putting her hand on his shoulder and scooting him over a bit.

"I'll take it from here," she said with a soft smile.

Danny grumped as he stepped back to join Jack.

"Don't worry, my boy, I don't understand those things either!" Jack said, trying to reassure him.

"Sarah, do you have Facebook on your phone?"

Sarah smiled, realizing what it was Danny had been trying to describe.

"I think I installed it once, for Sam. Her phone was on the fritz so I lent her mine. She's probably still logged in and everything. Hold on..." She looked down at the bright glow of the device in her hand, using her fingers to swipe across the screen until finally she found what she needed.

"There it is! But how is this going to help?" Sarah asked as she held the phone out to Maddie.

"Danny, what did you say his name was again?" Maddie said, turning to the boy again.

"I think Sam called him Tuck…"

--

School had been out for the past few days due to Fall Break, so unfortunately, Danny wouldn't be able to track him there. Luckily the digital profile for the boy had listed a place of work, giving Danny a good lead on where to start.

Partially because his amulet STILL wasn't working, and partially because a ghost walking into a store would be weird, he had decided to try and stay in his human form for this mission. Which was harder that he wanted to admit, as getting from place to place was a lot easier when you could fly.

'How did I do this when I was alive?'

He smiled to himself, realizing the irony in his thoughts as he pushed open the door to the store.

If the record store hadn't been such an eye opener, his amazement would have been greater. Everywhere he looked there were glass tables holding devices that ranged in size from the large computer he had seen in the lab to mini screen smaller than Sarah's. At one corner, there was a man standing with a weird hearing aid type thing in one ear, talking away to seemingly no one, while in the other, a group of teenage girls was huddled around what looked to be a plastic cylinder emitting the music of some unknown boy band.

Danny felt dizzy as he took in all the tech, realizing just how much he had missed in the fifty years he had been gone. If he hadn't died, would he have accepted all these things? Found them normal? He didn't want to think about it.

Refocusing on the mission, he tried to imagine the face he was seeking out. He had a faint idea of who he was looking for, having seen a couple of blurry photos on the boy's limited profile, but he knew he couldn't be sure until he saw him face to face.

Seeing as this was his place of work, Danny approached the counter, hoping that maybe the cashier would know who he was looking for. His mind in a daze, he didn't even notice when the clerk called him forward.

"Dude. You're holding up the line. Can I help you?"

Stepping forward, Danny faced the kid behind the counter. He was about to ask about the boy but found himself unable to before the kid spoke himself.

"You?"

Taken aback, Danny put his hand on his chest. He didn't think anyone would recognize him as a human.

"Pardon?" he asked.

The kid leaned forward, his glasses falling down his nose, and spoke in a hushed tone.

"Phantom?"

For what seemed like the millionth time that day, Danny's wheels began to turn as he realized he had managed to find exactly who he had been looking for.

"Actually, it's Danny."

"But, but… why don't you look like… you?" the boy asked, he dark skin beginning to turn pale.

"It's a long story, but I'll explain if you come with me."

--

"So, you're telling me that Sam has been abducted by a ghost – Clockwork – and the only way to find her is by using this medallion to track him, but you can't figure out the medallion because you don't have the tech for it?"

'How is it possible I know more about this ghost tech than the Fentons?'

Tucker had now joined the group in the living room of Fenton Works, having followed Danny there from the store. But with each moment, he felt more and more like he should have just stayed behind.

"Something like that yea," Danny replied.

"Tucker, it's more than that. We believe this Clockwork fellow is behind Danny's return and transformation. We think he's been playing with his emotions. Making him do things," Maddie added.

'He's a ghost! I wouldn't be surprised…

While Tucker had been excited to learn about the technology and ghost happenings when the Fentons first announced their discoveries, the excitement had begun to wear thin on him. What with Sam's recent obsessions and all the ghost attacks, it felt more like an episode of Scooby-Doo than anything innovative and groundbreaking.

"As her best friend, I'm worried about her, really. But you can't expect me to just jump into this cold turkey," Tucker said, crossing his arms.

"We hate having to ask so much of you like this, but we could really use the help," Maddie pleaded.

Tucker just stood, his eyes fixated on the ceiling.

"Maddie, we NEED his help! We can't let any more time pass with Sam in there!" Jack began, his voice a bit loud, startling Tucker.

"I know dear, but we can't just force his hand," she replied through gritted teeth.

"But, but…"

"STOP!"

It was Sarah's loud exclamation that made the group turn this time.

"Can't you see! This is getting us nowhere!"

She wheeled over to Tucker.

"Tucker, you are the only person who has ever stood by my Sam. Spending time with her, looking out for her, making sure she got home safe. I'll admit, I was a bit worried when she brought you home for the first time, what with all your little quirks, but I've warmed up to you. And I believe in you. We all do. Can't you please help us find her?"

'Sam's Grandma has always had a way with convincing people…'

He could see the fog behind her glasses as a few tears began to stream from her eyes.

Maybe it was pressure, or sympathy, or the desire to make sure his best – and only – friend was ok. Either way, he looked down and nodded his head in agreement.

--

"So, I bring a backpack full of cables and cords to work every day in case someone needs a troubleshoot," Tucker said as he opened his bag.

They were in the lab now, having spent the last few minutes letting Tucker take it all in.

"Hopefully one of these is compatible with that medallion you found." He dumped the bag's contents onto the ground.

Danny walked over to the lab table, picked up the gold trinket, and offered it to Tucker.

"The plug is on the bottom, just under the inscription. It's really small, do you see it?" he asked as he handed it to the boy.

Tucker took it with both hands, feeling the weight and examining it closer. He turned to Maddie.

"Do you mind if I look up something on your computer?"

"Go right ahead! But Google already failed us once today!" Jack boomed before Maddie could respond.

"Yea, but Google doesn't know how to hack government technology websites," Tucker muttered as he sat down in front of the screen.

"Government technology? Since when is the government involved?" Maddie asked.

"It's not, but they keep a database of all the cords and cables and outlets and stuff…" Tucker replied as the glow of the computer reflected in his glasses.

A few clicks and passwords later, Tucker found himself on the main page of the U.S. government's catalogue of technology.

Watching him scroll down the page in a blur gave Danny a headache.

'Seriously, how does anyone live with this much tech?'

Finally Tucker stopped, moving out of the way to show the group what he had found.

"I think this is it. A T-95 adapter. If the picture here is a match to the medallion, I may have just the cord!"

He held the medallion up to the screen, comparing the bottom of it to the photo, and a smile formed on his face.

"Good news?" Maddie asked.

"This is it!" Tucker exclaimed as he hurried back to his pile of tangled cords, digging until he found the one he needed.

Everyone smiled as he held it up, but Tucker's smile slowly faded as he realized something else.

"Ummmm, what do we plug this into?"

"Hmmm?" Jack asked.

"Well, it's got a USB on the end but I'm afraid to plug it into your computer without the proper program installed. After all, this is ghost tech, and who knows what kind of viruses that could bring."

"I don't think we need to worry about that," Maddie smiled, "We installed anti-ecto protection on the computer a few years back."

"Of course! It took me AGES to install that stuff, how could I have forgotten. Mads, you think of everything."

He leaned over to kiss her on the cheek as the two teenagers looked back at the computer, trying to refocus on their task.

Taking the Fentons' enthusiasm as a confirmation that it was fine to plug the thing into the computer, Tucker grabbed the cord and plugged the flat end into the tower.

He looked to Danny, hope and fear in his eyes, and nodded as he plugged the other end into the medallion.

The computer screen went black, and a loud sigh came from everyone in the room.

"Really!?" Danny complained as he raised his hands in frustration. "Just when we have a lead, nothing…"

Before he could finish his statement, bright green words appeared on the screen.

T.I.M.E. INITIATED. Y TO CONTINUE. N TO STOP.

"I'm guessing you want me to hit Y?" Tucker asked; everyone nodded.

As he hit the button, the group watched the screen change to what resembled a large, pixelated map with several glowing dots in various places.

PLEASE SELECT ITEM TO TRACK AND HIT Y.

"Sooo, now what?" Tucker asked.

"Hold on son, let me see this thing," Jack responded, coming forward to take the boy's place at the computer.

"It looks like there are lots of locations on here, but it's hard to tell which one we need to track."

"Danny, do you remember anything about places or names?" Maddie asked as her husband squinted at the screen, trying to decipher the tiny writing under several of the locations.

Danny stepped back to think for a moment before answering.

'Did Clockwork ever have a name for the Graveyard? His home?

--

He was on his knees, head facing down at the ground with hair hanging in his face. White hair.

"I've done it. At last, I have finally found an answer."

The boy looked up, eyes wide with confusion.

A figure floated in front of him, dressed in all purple with what appeared to be a grandfather clock showing through his chest. In his hand he held a staff, also resembling a clock, and when he got closer to the boy, his appearance suddenly went from old to young.

The boy lurched back, afraid of the figure's touch.

"Don't worry son, I won't hurt you. I'm here to help." The young figure spoke with a bit of compassion in his voice.

"What? Where? Who?" was all the boy could say in response.

"Of course, you're confused. You've only been back for a few hours now. Your mind hasn't fully returned yet. I should have known that would be a side effect of resurrection."

"Resurrection?"

Confusion spread across his entire face now; he still couldn't understand what was happening to him.

"Of course. You, Daniel, are the first soul I've ever been able to retrieve from death."

"Death? You mean, I…?'

"Died, yes. But I've brought you back." The figure smiled.

"Back to where?"

"I believe the humans call it 'The Ghost Zone,'" he answered with amusement, "but this part, my home, is the Island of Lost Time."

--

Danny opened his eyes and looked at the group, all of whom had turned face him once again.

The amulet around his neck was glowing green, and he could feel its heat permeating his body.

"Does he do that a lot?" Tucker asked.

"Change his appearance? Yes, I'm afraid so," Maddie answered.

"The Island of Lost Time. That's where she is," Danny replied, his green eyes glowing down at them.

[nightcoremoon]

Callout post: me

lying, manipulative, hold grudges, constantly paranoid, would absolutely 100% check out a teenager if nobody was looking because "it's a harmless crime", liar, cycle through idealization and devaluation, 'sick of fat people trying to be the next civil rights issue and making it that much harder to get civil rights for people who are ACTUALLY oppressed like gee idk poc and muslims and the mentally ill and queer people', frequently fantasizes about committing violent acts against people I rationalize they deserve it including family members, untruthful, attention whore, pedantic AND pretentious, tells lies, doesn't believe in one sister's claim of sexual assault (went to smoke weed with the alleged perpetrator), UNAPOLOGETICALLY AGAINST ASEXUAL EXCLUSIONISM (LITERALLY FUCK YOU DUMBASS FOURTEEN YEAR OLDS WHO SHRIEK THAT QUEER IS A SLUR, SHUT YOUR GODDAM FUCKING WHORE MOUTHS YOU DUMBASSES AND GO THE FUCK OUTSIDE OR READ A BOOK), would absolutely punch a child over an insignificant internet argument, secretly sought out sexual pleasure from two friendly seemingly platonic encounters with two girls I just met within twenty four hours, overreacts to the slightest provocations and has bitches at or vagueposted at several people who did not deserve it, has used mental illness and physical handicap to evade trouble from being late for work because video games and laziness and excessive sleep, has spent maybe a thousand dollars on fast food in 2018 alone, evades bills for medical care from an actually great clinic, lying sack of garbage, gave up on calling out family's bigotry and is now an accessory to prejudice, despises terfs predominantly for their refusal to fuck me because of being trans and yet meanwhile would not engage in sexual relationship with another trans woman or cis man unless reeeeeeeeally drunk, can and will blame being sexually assaulted as a child which probably didn't even happen because I don't think I remember it, unabashed furry, probably as addicted to video games and masturbation AND LIES as I almost was to alcohol, pretended to have almost been an alcoholic just to "win" facebook arguments about addiction, doesn't give a fuck my dad almost died from heroin JUST because he's a *little* homophobic and racist and classist and xenophobic because of a christian upbringing, would literally fucking murder him if he EVER PUTS HIS HANDS ON ME AGAIN, only slightly depressed because of laziness and a lack of drive and ungrateful to my family because hey they didn't kick me out for being trans so HEY THATS SUPPORTIVE ENOUGH FOR SOME OTHER PEOPLE SO WHY CANT I BE HAPPY WITH THAT, legitimately salty about ~the friendzone~ and just makes fun of incels because everybody else does, takes the moral high ground for not being a misogynist even though I don't deserve a pat on the back a lap dance and a blowjob for not hating women, overly sensitive about stupid things, thinking about faking having a trigger warning for more discourse credit, HUUUGE ASSHOLE to men I deem unattractive for no other reason than every single ugly fat guy I've ever met has been an asshole, rationalizes it after the fact because they eventually say something shitty because all men are terrible, probably a little bit of a cisnormative misandrist because trans men tend to be much better people, finds trans men attractive (specifically and significantly more so than cis men) so must clearly be fetishizing them, relatively okay with people referring to me as deadnamed and the wrong pronouns so probably just lying about being trans to everyone including myself, not 100% okay with the hijab for 'no reason other than all organized religion is evil and opposed to its mandate and the shame it forces on many women in many situations the exact same way I'm opposed to no sex before marriage and wives being subservient to their husbands and treating women as property in the torah and quran alike because ITS ALL BRAINWASHING' so is clearly not unlearning islamophobia and doesn't want to let that go, hypocrite because I believe in the basics of judeochristianity

and loathe atheism and atheists entirely because their smugness and smarm literally sets my blood pressure through the roof of what is safe and normal and yet claim to hate all organized religion, mansplains yet gets so pissed off when other people mansplain to me, judgmental of other cultures because they don't have the exact same values that I have, james gunn apologist, talks and talks and talks about anarchosocialism all damn day but would beat the shit out of a coworker for leaving me to do things because they're lazy because "any job worth doing is worth doing well" and other capitalismisms, literally couldn't give less of a fuck that his mother is dying because people die but it's no reason to make my life slightly harder and making me work hard when I work because BOO HOO MY LEGS HURT FROM THE LITERALLY MOST MILD CASE OF MUSCULAR DYSTROPHY I COULD'VE BEEN BORN WITH, hasn't actually performed real suicide attempt ever but still claims to have done so to attain sympathy that may result in physical affection, countless other shitty terrible things that yeah I recognize are bad but CANT SEEM TO CARE BECAUSE I HAVE DEPRESSION... WHICH IS THE WEAKEST FUCKING EXCUSE IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE GODDAMN WORLD

I am not a good person, okay?

I just pretend to be sometimes.

I'm sick of doing it, I'm sick of trying to do well and earn people's approval by doing and saying the right things only to just be ignored which is a step up from receiving many anons that hey, never actually told me to kill myself, but did take my words out of context to paint me as a racist. I am not the kind of racist who would vote for trump and march with the kkk. that is one of very few good things I can say about myself. but I'm an arrogant, violent, and angry opinionated perverted manipulative judgmental lying asshole. I'm not a good person. I have let myself fall so much and I deserve to be alone. my only connections to people were built on personal gain and I swear to myself that I do love them but those feelings fall away in direct correlation to how much they interact with me. I could love you to the point of obsession and stalking and one month later be completely and totally disinterested. I'm a bigot who pretends to not be bigoted and just parrots what other people say not because I believe it but because it's the right thing to say, and I only say what the right thing is to say because whenever I say a good thing something good will happen to me and if I say a bad thing something bad happens to me. it's all just self preservation, nothing else at all. but now I'm at the end of a road of just trying to do good and I'm alone. out of the only two friends that I can really say that I have left, one is far away and trapped in a guilt spiral that I caused by being too clingy, and the other has been behaving in a way my mind has decoded as defensive around me which makes sense as I have been very... the best way to describe it would be the way a dudebro incel interacts with any person who possesses a vagina/breasts but sneakier. in both relationships I've pushed my own wants and desires in extremis... I can't for the life of me recall the last time I have ever offered something in return other than my own company or paying for a meal at a restaurant or I guess transportation. and instead of sex I just want them to express even the slightest bit of intimate platonic physical affection towards me but that's still a lot to offer someone who has clearly expressed the existence of a sexual and maybe something near the realms of romantic in one of the cases physical attraction because for this aspec it's practically the same fucking thing.

and I've manipulated them to attain this goal. at this point my shit brain has considered just fucking going to town on my wrists with a razor blade to draw sympathy so that I'll get a hug or something beyond just a simply hello/goodbye, and finding a way to induce tears to concoct a sob story to reach the same end result, and one time very briefly via threat and intimidation so you can clearly see that I've gone far too into irredeemable territory. I've been playing and replaying cry of fear because it's just too similar to my own issues and the first ending where he just kills everyone he loves and then himself... I see me in that ending. and it scares me so much more than the sprinting screaming twitching one hit kill chainsaw guy ever will. I don't want that to be me, I want to change something, but I just can't get the help that I need. I had hoped to go for a domino effect, where if I could be cuddled for like five minutes or something, I'd have the energy to be more hygienic, which would make me feel capable enough to take on two jobs, which would get me the cash flow I need to pay my bills and take care of my hormones, which would put me in the headspace necessary to effectively use psychological help, which would let me get over my illnesses and actually become a more successful person instead of the pathetic husk I am here in non-fantasy land.

but that won't happen.

I'm just sitting here in the dark angsting about how nobody will touch me in a way that would produce oxytocin, and it's making me so sick, so physically sick, that it's affecting my brain too. I'm in pain, nauseous, vengeful, spiteful, paranoid, judgmental, and lonely. I'm stuck and I can't even kill myself because my mind wants me to stay alive and suffer through all of this because "oh it gets better" people have been saying that for well over half of my life. I was six or seven years old when I asked my mother to kill me, and that same level of desperation and bitterness has only gotten worse as time goes by. when does it get better? I'll tell you when it gets better, after I'm in prison or comatose or forty five years old with a cane and bad eyes and high blood pressure and lung cancer from all the secondhand smoke I've breathed in my life. when my life is over, that's when it gets better. I DONT WANT THAT. I WANT A NORMAL FUCKING LIFE RIGHT NOW. I WANT NORMAL FRIENDSHIPS AND A NORMAL HOME AND A NORMAL EDUCATION AND A NORMAL CAREER AND A NORMAL FAMILY. or at least I want someone to hold me and make me feel like I'm not so horrible and broken that I can't be touched.

but that's too much to ask for.

[gadflysuite]

What is Duplicate Content

Copy substance can be compared to being at a junction where street signs point in two unique ways for a similar goal: Which street would it be advisable for you to take? To exacerbate the situation, the last goal is distinctive as well, however just marginally. As a peruser, you wouldn't fret since you get the substance you desired, yet a web crawler needs to pick which page to appear in the indexed lists because it wouldn't like to demonstrate a similar material twice.

Here is a complete list of best duplicate content checker tools.

Suppose your article about 'watchword x' shows up at http://www.example.com/catchphrase x/and a similar substance additionally shows up at http://www.example.com/article-class/watchword x/. This circumstance isn't invented: it occurs in bunches of present-day Content Management Systems. At that point suppose your article has been grabbed by a few bloggers and some of them connect to the primary URL, while others connect to the second. This is the point at which the internet searcher's concern demonstrates its actual nature: it's your concern. The copy content is your concern because those connections both advance unique URLs.

Here you can check the duplicate content myths and clear you question about duplicate content.

1 Causes of copy content

There are many purposes behind copy content. A significant portion of them are specialized: it's not all the time that a human chooses to put a similar substance in two better places without clarifying which is the first – it feels unnatural to the more significant part of us. There are numerous specialized reasons however and it, for the most part, happens because designers don't take on a similar mindset as a program or even a client, not to mention a web crawler bug – they have a similar outlook as a software engineer. Take that article we said before that shows up on http://www.example.com/watchword x/and http://www.example.com/article-class/catchphrase x/. On the off chance that you ask the engineer, they will state it exists once.

1.1 Misunderstanding the idea of a URL

No, that engineer hasn't gone frantic, they are merely the other dialect. A CMS will presumably control the site, and in that database, there's separate one article. However, the site's product takes into consideration that same article in the database to be recovered through a few URLs. That is because, according to the engineer, the one of a kind identifier for that article is the ID that article has in the database, not the URL. However, for the web crawler, the URL is the exceptional identifier for a bit of substance. If you disclose that to a designer, they will start to get the issue. Also, after perusing this article, you'll even have the capacity to give them an answer immediately.

1.2 Session IDs

You frequently need to monitor your guests and permit them, for example, to store things they need to purchase in a shopping basket. You need to give them a 'session.' A session is a concise history of what the guest did on your site and can contain things like the things in their shopping basket. To keep up that session as a guest clicks starting with one page then onto the next, the exceptional identifier for that session – called the Session ID – should be put away someplace. The most widely recognized arrangement is to do that with treats. In any case, web crawlers don't more often than not store treats.

By then, a few frameworks fall back to utilizing Session IDs in the URL. This implies each interior connection on the site understands that Session ID added to its URL and because that Session ID is remarkable too that session, it makes another URL, and in this manner copy content.

1.3 URL parameters utilized for following and arranging

Another reason for copy content is utilizing URL parameters that don't change the substance of a page, for example in following connections. To a web crawler, http://www.example.com/catchphrase x/and http://www.example.com/watchword x/?source=rss are not similar URLs. The last may enable you to track what source individuals originated from. However, it may likewise make it harder for you to rank well – particularly an undesirable reaction!

This doesn't merely go for the following parameters. It goes for each parameter you can add to a URL that doesn't change the indispensable bit of substance, regardless of whether that parameter is for 'changing the arranging on an arrangement of items' or for 'demonstrating another sidebar': every one of them cause copy content.

1.4 Scrapers and substance syndication

The vast majority of the explanations behind copy content are either the 'blame' of you or your site. Some of the time, nonetheless, different sites utilize your substance, with or without your permission. They don't generally connect to your unique article, and in this manner, the web crawler doesn't 'get' it and needs to manage yet another form of a similar article. The more well known your site turns into, the more scrubbers you'll get, making this issue greater and greater.

1.5 Order of parameters

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Another typical reason is that a CMS doesn't utilize decent clean URLs, yet rather URLs like/?id=1&cat=2, Where ID alludes to the article and feline alludes to the class. The URL/?cat=2&id=1 will render similar outcomes in most site frameworks, yet they're unique for a web crawler.

1.6 Comment pagination

In my dearest WordPress, yet in addition to some different frameworks, there is an alternative to paginate your remarks. This prompts the substance being copied over the article URL, and the article URL +/remark page-1/,/remark page-2/and so on.

1.7 Amicable Printer pages

If your substance administration framework makes printer well-disposed pages, and you connect to those from your article pages, Google will more often than not discover them, except if you particularly square them. Presently, ask yourself: Which adaptation do you need Google to appear? The one with your promotions and fringe content, or the one that exclusive demonstrates your article?

1.8 WWW versus non-WWW

This is one of the most seasoned in the book, yet at times web search tools still miss the point: WWW versus non-WWW copy content, when the two renditions of your site are open. Another, less normal circumstance however one I've seen too is HTTP versus HTTPS copy content, where a similar substance is served out finished both.

2 Conceptual arrangement: an 'authoritative' URL

As we've just observed, the way that few URLs prompt a similar substance is an issue, yet it can be illuminated. One individual who works at a production will typically have the capacity to let you know effortlessly what the 'right' URL for a specific article ought to be, yet in some cases when you ask three individuals inside a similar organization, you'll find three unique solutions…

That is an issue that requirements are tending to because, at last, there can be just a single (URL). That 'right' URL for a bit of substance is alluded to as the Canonical URL by the web crawlers.

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[arcticdementor]

So the NYT newsletter lineup has been unveiled. I suppose the expectation is that I would make fun of this but I’m not moved to do so. Whatever else its problems, and I’m about to lay them out here, the Times does not suffer from a talent deficit. I don’t know what this is all going to look like in practice, or what the financial inducements are for the writers. But I’ll read several of these with interest and I’m excited to see what comes from the experiment. Let writers write. I imagine the Times has some extremely complicated and arbitrary rules about original reporting appearing in these newsletters; I’m told there are a lot of turf issues over there on 8th Avenue. But that’s not my concern. I’m in favor of giving people freer rein to explore their interests in writing, and from my vantage it seems like this setup could result in a lot of cool stuff. I for sure will read Jane Coaston and Jay Kang. I for sure will not read Frank Bruni. For the rest, we shall see.

Of course, what none of these people will do is what no one at the Times can do: publish things that upset the subscriber base. And it’s precisely the willingness to do so that has powered the financial success of newsletters like this one.

If you’re new around here, the basic scenario is that we’ve had a years-long moral panic in which elite white tastemakers adopted the political posture of radical Black academics out of purely competitive social impulses, trying on a ready-made political eschatology that blames the worlds ills on whiteness and men and yet somehow leaves space for an army of good white people and good men to cluck their tongue about it all. Concurrently, the most influential paper in the world emerged from decades of fiscal instability by going hard on digital subscriptions, paywalling more and more of its content and rattling its tin cup more loudly than ever before. The result has been boom times, attenuated only by the end of the immensely lucrative Trump years. (I believe Chris Hayes is covering Trump’s latest spray tan tonight.) The trouble is that this model leaves them even more dependent on a particular social and political caste, namely the educated white professional class that graduates from top 25 universities, moves to Echo Park or Andersonville or Austin, then sends Zane and Daschel to pre-K that costs more than their Audi. Oh and they, like, care about justice and stuff. Conservatives hate read the NYT and thus have traditionally brought in advertising revenue, but they don’t hate subscribe, and the end result is that a paper that was about a 6.5 on a ten-point Liberal Elite Scale when I was a kid has moved to a 9.5. And there’s nothing internal to the publication that can stop this leftward march.

This will invite reprisals for speaking out of turn, but all of the following comes from public knowledge, other people’s reporting, what former and current employees have said, and a little bit of gossip. The social and professional culture within The New York Times is notoriously toxic, the confluence of people with immense career ambitions and total shamelessness about using social justice rhetoric to attack their enemies; watercooler shit-talking and mean-girling has moved to Slack, where it’s somehow even worse than it was before; all of the younger staffers see their jobs as straightforwardly activist positions, and the role of the paper to advance a pro-Democrat social justice ideology rather than to report objectively or to present a range of viewpoints; executive editor Dean Baquet is afraid of his own employees; the Sulzbergers don’t want to have uncomfortable conversations with their fellow white liberal elites at the food co-op or whatever; and in general absolutely every internal incentive within the paper points towards uncritically advancing a Robin Diangelo-approved race and gender ideology, a class-never, deferential-to-woke-norms soggy social justice politics that says nothing remotely challenging to said staffer cliques or the Hermosa Beach soccer moms who now fund the paper. When Bari Weiss resigned the media Borg represented it as all about Weiss, but her story was really about the kind of perspective that can’t exist anymore at The New York Times. I’m sure the blob would deny this stuff, but again none of these are well-kept secrets. If Ben Smith was not paid by the New York Times he would have reported this out long ago.

…

You can talk about Bari Weiss, you can talk about the Cotton brouhaha, you can discuss the inherent and ugly incentives of the subscription model for the paper. But the Donald McNeil firing is truly the bellwether. A reporter with 45 years of NYT experience on an absolutely essential beat said something clueless but utterly anodyne to some spoiled adolescents on a trip that 99% of people their age can’t access. Despite the fact that what he said would have been totally unremarkable even in liberal circles five years ago, the situation caught the staff’s attention and its ire and they vented that ire with the typical absurdist claim that McNeil had put them “in danger” in some incredibly vague way. (On Twitter, of course). So McNeil was duly dispatched, and the basic power dynamic of the modern day New York Times was laid bare: a handful of the paper’s untouchable celebrities can kick up the junior staff into a frenzy, and once that catches fire on Twitter, there is no one in the paper’s leadership who has the honesty and integrity to tell them no. No one. (The NYT’s self-exonerating reaction to McNeil’s defense is quietly hilarious.) The simple fact of the matter is that Baquet has not demonstrated anything like the public courage it would take to face down a Twitter storm prompted by Nikole Hannah-Jones et al., and there’s no reason to think that that’s going to change anytime soon. The media types would reject all of this, if anyone at a big-shot publication had the integrity to write a story about these open secrets. But I’m not lying.

What annoys me about resistance to this narrative, from within the NYT or the media writ large, is that sometimes they admit that the point now is to advance social justice, which is to say to support a specific ideological project associated with one party. Wesley Lowery’s “moral clarity” piece remains a remarkably frank confession on the part of the Times that they have accepted what’s been obvious for a long time, that even they don’t believe in their own vestigial gestures towards evenhandedness anymore, that it’s all a naked pretense to please the last lingering greyhairs involved with the organization and that in due time they’ll be no less explicitly Democrat-aligned than DailyKos. (I think of David Brooks and Tom Friedman at the Times like children whose parents have handed them Xbox controllers that aren’t plugged in.) Watching the establishment media accept the fundamental claim of Lowery’s piece, that elite journalists possess such enormous moral wisdom that they have transcended the notions of subjectivity and embedded perspective, has been pretty wild, for the inconsistency if nothing else. They step from “of course the MSM hasn’t adopted full-throated social liberalism en masse, that’s absurd” to “yes we’re telling the truth now and that’s good and righteous” as rhetorically convenient.

…

In the broader perspective, what incentives are left for careers in media? The fast-then-slow-then-fast internet-enabled collapse of the industry’s financial foundations appears to be experiencing another fast phase. Everybody in the industry is aware that there’s some 22-year-old in the wings who will do what they’re doing for half price. (Those 22-year-olds are rich enough or stupid enough not to care that they will in short order be the one getting undercut themselves.) Covid killed whatever lingering cool NYC media social scene remained. Perceptions of prestige are subjective, but by my lights the indignities of the click-chasing era and pathetic Trump-humping of the past five years have erased whatever lingering prestige was left in writing for, say, The Washington Post. Along with The New Yorker, writing for the Times is one of the last privileges in the business that really walks the dog in the impress-your-normie-uncle sense - and, more importantly, provides clear benefits in the ancillary fields where affluent writers actually make their money. To get to that stage, you have to be liked by the right people. Every industry is influenced by petty popularity, but it’s particularly acute in the news business, and now bullshit me-first social justice complaints have been weaponized to enforce that popularity hierarchy.

This all leaves us in a place that’s utterly inhospitable to the noblest urge in any profession, which is to tell the profession and its gurus to go fuck themselves.

…

The only thing I can do, at this point, is appeal to the integrity of the individuals within that world. They aren’t bad people, most of them, they’re just afraid, financially precarious and terrified of being called racist in an industry which has busily drained professional success of any prerequisite other than popularity with one’s peers. You can understand a lot about media culture by understanding that most of the people within it feel like they’re barely hanging on. Well, let me put it to you all privately, here in this space away from Twitter and away from Slack, where it’s just you and me: was this really what you wanted to do, when you set out to make this your profession? To tell Bradley Whitford’s character from Get Out that he’s right about everything? To nod along with a conventional wisdom that you’re too scared to step outside of? I doubt that’s what you once dreamed of doing. The most valuable thing you can do with a prominent place in media, right now, is to point out how sick the whole business is. It’s only integrity when it hurts, guys. Something you write is only brave when it pisses off all your friends and colleagues. Why on earth did you get into journalism, instead of becoming an actuary, if not because you wanted to say the things your profession and your peers and your culture absolutely do not want you to say?