#ex columbiner

[segaynus]

Personal rant as an ex-columbiner:

I went through the Columbine tag yesterday and the amount of shitposts and posts about the shooters made me sad. I used to be a Columbiner too, i had a blog dedicated to Columbine from 2014 to 2015, i was 17, and it only took me years to realise how messed up it was. When I was 17 and had this blog I really did write some awful things that I'm now ashamed of and I'm trying to repay for the things I've done now. I was one of those girls who were trying to find a way to relate to the shooters as I had been bullied myself and grew up without being shown loved, so I became "I could have fixed them" girl lmao. Even adding I do not condone line in my blog title and making some posts about the victims was not a justification.

Now that I'm all grown up I realise the gravity of my actions, how messed up it all was. I didn't realise it back then, I had to grow up to realise that. I have to live rememering what I've done as a teenager and it's not easy. Now I'm focusing on obsessing over fictional characters instead because they cannot commit atrocities in real life, it's safer to be obsessed with them (and also they're awesome)

Please guys, don't be like me. Think this over. Focus on the victims of the heinous crime, live your way to honour the victims instead 🥰 sooner or later you're going to grow up and realise how cringe and how wrong the Columbine phase was anyway.

Live your life in such a way that would make Rachel, Lauren, Cassie, Kelly, Daniel, Daniel, Kyle, Isaiah, Matthew, Steven, John, Corey, Dave proud ❤️

[kindsoulbuddy]

The thing about praise and worship music at church is that

It’s catchy

Repetitive simple lyrics

It’s played on repeat every Sunday

So even though I’ve been deconstructing for years from evangelicalism, most days praise and worship music from my youth plays in my head.

So every once in a while I’ll sing to myself something joyful like “I got peace like a river I got peace like a river I got peace like a river in my soul!” 🎶

Or maybe “ Better is one day in your courts than thousands elsewhere!” 🎶

Or maybe something peaceful like “As the deer panteth for the water so my soul longeth after Thee…”🎶

Mostly it doesn’t bother me.

But then 90s/Y2K Christian pop music gets stuck in my head.

Like sometimes Rebecca St. James lyrics go through my head like this one glorifying purity culture:

“I am waiting for, praying for you darling! Wait for me too, wait for me as I wait for you! Darling Wait!”

Or you know just songs from DC Talk..

“What if I stumble, what if I fall? What if I lose my step and I make fools of us all?”

Or

“There’s no time to change your mind, the Son has come and you’ve been left behind.”

I think about the awful Rapture Anxiety I had for years and years…

And then i think about being in youth group and yes the fun times but also the moments when we had alter calls.

And the crying and sobbing. The speaking in tongues. The teenagers falling on their faces.

The sensationalized, sometimes violent “Human Videos” (just look up human videos on YouTube there are many).

Teens vowing to die for Christ.

When the Columbine shooting happened all we heard about were the apocryphal stories of students being martyred for Jesus.

I wondered “will a shooter come into our church today and ask us to deny Christ or be shot? What will I do if that happens??”

And what if I lose my salvation just because I had doubts? And what if I get possessed by a demon?

Not to mention purity culture and what it does to a young girl. (All kids suffered but we girls had to be modest and never cause any man to stumble by looking at our shoulder or something)

Abstinence class and signing a pledge to remain a pure virgin until my wedding night.

All the teenagers in every youth group were running around with raging hormones and couldn’t do anything about it. So a lot of us got married quickly. (I was engaged at 19, married at 21).

I mean I’m not even getting into young earth creationism or anti-gay rhetoric or pro life marches, etc..

But you can see that so much of my life (as good as it was for the most part, I was fortunate)was fear based?

And the thing is most of the people (congregation, I can’t speak for all the pastors and church leaders) at church didn’t mean for it to happen that way.

See, I was taught that there is freedom in Christianity. But why didn’t I feel free? That must mean my faith is weak, right?

It’s just so exhausting.

And I went to church regularly for my first 33 years of life. I volunteered, I taught Sunday school classes. I was trying to do it the right way.

Then Covid 19 happened.

I was forced to stop going to church for the first time in my life.

And honestly for years before this I was deconstructing. What really sped this process along was a certain Orange president and his very un-Christianlike followers.

And like Paul in the book of Acts, the scales fell off my eyes. I was blind but now could see. Really see.

The way my Christian peers were acting. The way they refused vaccines and even wearing masks. The cult-like behavior toward Donald Trump. The Christian nationalists.

And after a few months of no church…I realized I didn’t miss it.

After 2020, my deconstruction days really took off. I still don’t go to church (outside of a few weeks trying a gay-affirming congregation).

I used to compulsively pray.

And for hours i would pore over the scriptures trying to glean special meaning. Taking copious notes deep into the night.

(have OCD and I now realize that this brand of religion made my OCD symptoms so much worse.)

But it’s weird…

I have religious trauma. I’m learning about how I was literally in a cult. I’m still trying to unlearn stuff. I still get fearful sometimes about “what if I’m wrong?”.

But I still have good memories of growing up in church. Just like how I still sing old church songs in my head.

I’ve been to many churches, but I grew up in a small country church. I knew it like the back of my hand. It’s how I met some of my best friends and in turn, it’s how I met my husband of 17 years.

I can’t say I regret it. Like anything in life it’s complicated and complex.

I miss the social aspect of church too. I’ve never found another social space like it. I’ve tried! I can’t figure out any other “3rd place” that resembles it.

I’m not sure why i wrote so much down except to say i know a lot of people understand where I’m coming from.

In the meantime, I like to go on r/fundiesnarkuncensored, also i watch Fundie Fridays on YouTube…and I do quite a bit of reading on the subject of others who left the church. Recently I just read Tia Levings’ new book “the Well Trained Wife.”

I’m more at peace about it.

But I think my complex feelings and even some doubts will follow me forever.

[pyr0cue]

I would like to become unstressed forever

[praetorqueenreyna]

Tamlin is shocked (and a little scared) when his ex-girlfriend's sister stops by his flower shop. Featuring Florist!Tamlin and Tattoo Artist! Nesta.

For Tamlin Week Day 3: Flower Languages. Click here to read on AO3, or continue reading below!

@tamlinweek

“I have a question for you.”

Tamlin jumped and dropped his shears with an aggressive clank. He was trimming the ends of yesterday’s flowers, his headphones blaring Hozier as he focused on his task. He hadn’t even heard somebody enter his flower shop.

It took a second for him to place where he had seen the modestly-dressed woman before. It was Nesta, one of the three sisters that ran Archeron Tattoos next door. Immediately, Tamlin was on guard. A year prior he had had a disastrous relationship with another sister, Feyre, which had ended so badly he wouldn’t have been surprised if she had set his shop on fire. For months after, he had avoided even glancing at the door to the tattoo parlor. Things had settled down and Feyre even had a girlfriend now, but that didn’t stop her from giving him the stink eye whenever they crossed paths. He had been so busy deliberately not looking over there that he barely knew anything about the other two sisters.

“Um, yes?” he stuttered, aware that he had been staring blankly at her for way too long.

Nesta raised an eyebrow. She didn’t seem like she was here to murder him, but also didn’t seem like she was thrilled to be there. “I need reference photos for a piece I’m doing this weekend and can’t find any online. If you have the flowers here, I’d like to take some pictures.”

Tamlin could have pointed out that she didn’t actually ask him a question, but to be honest, Nesta was intimidating. She was almost as tall as he was and, though he outweighed her slim frame, she seemed like the kind of person capable of getting what she wanted. Besides, the request wasn’t unreasonable and there was nobody else in the shop right now.

“Sure. What flowers do you need?”

Nesta pulled out her phone and thumbed through it until she found the list. “Yellow hyacinth, foxglove, cowslip, marigold…” She rattled off about a dozen of the weirdest flower requests Tamlin had ever heard. He was used to people requesting orchids and roses, not wolfsbane. There was an awkward pause when she finished talking and was waiting for him to respond.

Tamlin cleared his throat. “I’m sure I have some of those. I’ll be honest, it’s a rather…unusual set of flowers.

“I’m aware. You know about florigraphy, correct?”

“Yeah. Flower languages.” As a florist, Tamlin had come to know the most common flowers used to convey meaning. Red roses for true love, white tulips for remembrance, etc.

“Exactly. My client just got out of a shitty relationship, and she wants a huge floral sleeve celebrating that. And instead of using flowers that represent love and peace and all that crap, she wants flowers that say ‘fuck you.’ Turning those negative experiences into something positive.”

Tamlin had never thought to use flowers to convey anger or spite, but he could see the appeal. He was certainly well versed in bad break ups. He led Nesta around the shop, pulling out the flowers from her list that he did have in stock. To his surprise, she asked for his opinion. They talked through each flower, Nesta taking pictures of them from every angle while Tamlin Googled its meaning. Nesta was extremely meticulous. She lined up the flowers next to each other, studying their color and shape against each other to make sure they’d make an aesthetically pleasing art piece. Many of the flowers with negative connotations were yellow, which she said didn’t tattoo as well. They finally settled on black dahlia (betrayal), narcissus (selfishness), and columbine (folly).

“I think I’ll frame them like this,” Nesta mused, placing the individual flowers on the table in an artful array. “With the praying mantis in the middle.”

“Why a praying mantis?”

“You know, that whole thing where the females rip off the males’ heads after they mate.” Nesta gave a devilish grin. “Very empowering.”

“That’s not true.”

The easy-going atmosphere that had developed between them collapsed. Nesta scowled. “What?”

Tamlin, who by now was wishing he had ever learned when to shut the fuck up, stammered, “It’s a myth, that praying mantises do that. A very common one, lots of people believe it!”

Apparently, his nervous explanation was pathetic enough to convince Nesta that he wasn’t trying to talk down to her. She tilted her head, appraising him with cool gray eyes, wordlessly waiting for him to continue.

“Well, um, the study where the females eat the males was done in a lab, and they were starving and stressed out. Afterwards, they were observed mating in the wild, and it doesn’t really happen.”

“So you’re telling me a bunch of people had to go out and watch bugs have sex?” Nesta asked in a deadpan voice.

“I guess? I don’t actually know all the details. It can’t be as weird as I’m making it sound, but—”

“Relax, I’m kidding,” Nesta grinned at his obvious discomfort. Tamlin noticed she had a dimple in her left cheek.

“Oh.” Although she didn’t seem like she was going to bite his head off anymore, Tamlin scrambled to find something to recover the conversation that he had derailed. “You could do a spider. For a lot of them, the females are way bigger and more powerful than the males. And the males have to bring them presents to avoid getting eaten.”

“Mhmm, I like that. Thanks.” Nesta paused in the doorway. “You know, you’re not as much of an asshole as I had thought.”

“Thank you?” There was barely enough time to comprehend what she had said, then she was gone.

Tamlin spent the rest of the day thinking about her. And Feyre. He had assumed that Feyre had told her sisters plenty of stories about how terrible he had been. Some of them would even have been true. He had spent the past year trying to forget one Archeron, only to fall headfirst into another. It was so stupid. They had talked for twenty minutes about flowers and she had smiled at him. Still, every time he entered or left his flower shop, he couldn’t help but glance in the doorway of the tattoo parlor, hoping for a glimpse of Nesta.

***********************************

That weekend, he was closing up the shop when he heard a knock on the door. He had already locked it and was busy sweeping, and he approached the door ready to politely tell the overeager flower buyer to fuck off. His irritation transformed into elation when he caught sight of Nesta through the glass. He hurried to unlock the door and usher the tattoo artist inside, along with the petite red-headed woman that accompanied her.

“Hey, hope you don’t mind us barging in,” Nesta said. Before Tamlin could say that she could barge wherever and whenever she wanted, she nodded towards the other woman. “This is Gwyn. I just finished up her sleeve. I told her how you helped me, and she wanted to come by and thank you in person. And show you the final piece.”

Gwyn was wearing a tank top, and one of her arms was a riot of color. Tamlin couldn’t see the details of the new tattoo under the saran wrap that currently covered it.

“Oh. Of course, you didn’t have to do that. I’m happy to help,” Tamlin replied, flustered. Gwyn was staring at him with big blue eyes. They were a little puffy, as if she had been crying, which Tamlin assumed was the result of getting a tattoo for hours upon hours. She was grinning though, clearly pleased with the completed work.

“Well, thank you still. I really appreciate it. Especially the bug info. I would have been so embarrassed to find out the mantis stuff after I had already gotten the tattoo.” She stepped forward and held out her arm. “Do you want to see it?”

“Sure, I’d love to.” Gwyn pinched the edge of the saran wrap between her fingers and peeled it off. The surface of the tattoo glistened with ointment, but it was still breathtaking. The flowers that he had Nesta had picked out absolutely glowed, bright bursts of red and purple and yellow and green against Gwyn’s pale skin. In the middle of the flowers was a black widow spider, glossy black with the distinctive red hourglass on her abdomen. It was an absolutely stunning piece of artwork.

“Wow,” Tamlin breathed. “It’s incredible.” He lightly touched Gwyn’s wrist to tilt her arm so he could see more of the tattoo, then realized what he had done. “Oh shit!” He jerked his hand away. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you without asking.”

Rather than being annoyed, Gwyn was blushing furiously. “It’s okay, you can touch.” Nesta snorted, and Gwyn shot her a look that Tamlin couldn’t interpret. “Just not on the ink. It still hurts.”

“I bet.” With his fingertips, he rotated Gwyn’s arm back and forth, taking in every little detail. “Amazing. Just amazing.” He let her arm go. “That guy doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Yeah, fuck him.” Nesta slung one arm around Gwyn’s shoulders, careful to avoid the new tattoo. “You should totally have gotten to kill and eat him.”

Gwyn giggled. “No argument here. I should get going, my roommate is probably out front waiting to pick me up. She waved bashfully at Tamlin. “Bye, it was nice to meet you. And thank you again for all the help.” With that, she slipped out the door. Nesta watched her leave with an amused smirk. It felt like there was an inside joke that Tamlin was missing out on.

“What are you laughing about?” he asked, feeling bold.

“Nothing. Just that you’re challenging Gwyn’s new resolution to swear off men forever.”

“What? Me?”

“Yes, you. Being all cute and respectful like a Victorian gentleman.”

Now Tamlin was the one blushing, his ears were practically on fire. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And the little wrist touch. I’m surprised she didn’t swoon directly into your arms.” Nesta grabbed Tamlin’s hand in a mock imitation of his own interaction with Gwyn. She was rougher than he had been, jerking him forward into her. She had missed his wrist and instead had her hand wrapped around his palm, a mistake he was grateful for, since hopefully she couldn’t feel his blood pounding.

“I didn’t…I wasn’t…” Tamlin’s head was a buzz of static. He couldn’t even breathe with Nesta right there. She was so pretty and so terrifying, which apparently was exactly what he found attractive.

“Relax, I’m messing with you.” She released him and stepped back. “Seriously, you’re a good guy. Stop by next door any time. I promise I’ll tell Feyre not to bite your head off.” With a cheeky wink she left, the bell on the door tinkling faintly behind her.

***********************************

He could do this. He was not going to chicken out, like the last three times he had tried. The cowardly part of his brain was screaming at him to turn back even as he locked the flower shop behind him, but he ignored it. For the first time since his breakup with Feyre, he entered Archeron Tattoos.

All three sisters were there. Feyre, thankfully, was working. She was bent over someone’s ankle, carefully sketching lines with her tattoo gun. There was a brief flash of regret, but nothing more. They were never meant to be, and they were both happier now. Feyre looked up when the door opened and did a double take. She took a few seconds to properly glare at him, then returned her attention back to her client. Tamlin exhaled in relief; a part of him had fully expected her to attack or yell at him.

Elain was behind the counter. She had revved up a formulaic greeting before she realized who he was, and cut herself off mid-sentence. Tamlin gave her a distracted wave, not wanting to get sidetracked. Nesta was in the shop, organizing bottles of colored ink. He cleared his throat to get her attention.

“Hey.”

She looked up, and smiled. “Hey.”

Tamlin looked around, painfully aware that Feyre and Elain could hear everything they said. “Can we go somewhere to talk?”

“Sure.” Nesta led him to the back of the tattoo shop, where they at least had a little more privacy. She turned to him and folded her arms. “What’s up?”

Tamlin had rehearsed the next part a million times. And instead of saying any of that, he pulled a flower out of his pocket and offered it to Nesta. “I brought this for you.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Nesta carefully took the flower, which now had a crumpled stem and smashed leaves.

“It’s a pansy,” he explained. His mouth was inexplicably dry and his voice sounded weird in his ears. When they had been doing their florigraphy research together, they had run across the pansy on multiple sites with multiple meanings. One meaning had stuck out to him, and he hoped that Nesta had remembered it as well.

“You occupy my thoughts,” she murmured. She smiled that dimple smile that left Tamlin weak in the knees. “You’re cute.”

“Oh good, you remembered,” was all that came out of his mouth.

“I did.” She laughed and tucked the pansy behind her ear. “Tamlin, would you like to go out with me sometime?”

“Yes. Yes. Definitely.”

“Good. I’ll pick you up at six.” She lifted herself up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips, then darted past him. Tamlin stood there, stunned, waiting to wake up.

On his way out the door, he stopped. “Bye, Feyre,” he said loudly.

“If you hurt her, I’ll kill you. Asshole,” she said in reply.

It wasn’t great. But it was a start.

[tea-and-secrets]

one of my exes used to kin/may still kin one of the columbine shooters. they used to thirst over both of the shooters and send pictures of them to me asking if i liked them (the shooters) as much as they did.

that time of my life was wild (i was 13 and they were 15 turning 16)

.

[thirteens-earring]

Jane Schoenbrun, from Episode 174 of the Gender Reveal podcast (episode) (episode transcript)

[ Tuck: Yeah. And somehow that brings me to Limp Bizkit. Because I think it’s so funny that you created this incredible soundtrack with like every iconic girlie, and then in the movie itself you know Sloppy Jane’s in the movie, King Woman’s in the movie, Lindsey from Snail Mail is acting in the movie, and then…Fred Durst is there. [Jane laughs.] Can you talk about why you wanted to work with him specifically, and what that experience was like of bringing him into the movie?

Jane: Yeah. So the first thing to say is that when I was 12, I loved Limp Bizkit, because it was 1999, and I was vaguely pissed off at a thing that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, right? And I think that nu metal thing was very appealing to me, in that — Limp Bizkit less, but a band like Korn or Slipknot — Slipknot is donning masks, and actively appropriating just the sort of iconography of the horror movie and grotesquerie to describe their internal feelings. And Korn is talking about how they’re a “Freak on a Leash.” And it’s this pre-Columbine, right before Columbine moment where I don’t think culturally we had like zeroed in on that necessarily (or at least I hadn’t at 12 years old) as a symptom of this growing nascent white male anger. It felt more like they were carrying the torch of the weirdo; I think that was sort of the appeal of a lot of that nu metal music when it first came out, was like I’m a “Freak on a Leash.” I think Limp Bizkit was a little different, because they certainly cast themselves as the underdog, but they didn’t necessarily cast themselves as “a freak,” you know? It was more of a pissed off, like Kid Rock style — I’m young, I’m white, I’m angry, have sex with me. [Tuck and Jane laugh] But I didn’t understand all of that, and I was 12 in the suburbs, and that was what a lot of money was being spent to convince me to buy, and I bought it, and I loved it, and I had that Family Values ’99 tour tape cassette, and I listened to it. And when I got bar mitzvahed, my bar mitzvah gift was a CD case — remember those little things you would keep in your car to keep CDs in?

Tuck: Yeah, definitely.

Jane: We got custom “Jane’s Bar Mitzvah” CD booklets [Tuck laughs], and it had Limp Bizkit drawings on the cover. So if you have one of those, that’s a collectors item now. [Tuck and Jane laugh]

Tuck: That rules.

Jane: After I wrote TV Glow, and just spending a lot of time unpacking my childhood and my adolescence in the suburbs and just feelings of alienation, I had written this character — hardly a character, more like this spectre of the anger of a dad who looks at you in the way that I have experienced, where it’s like…are you looking at me as your child, or are you looking at me as a person who has robbed you of your child? And this is very much a trans horror. I got notes early on like “let’s flesh out this dad, where does that come from?” And I was like “no actually, I don’t really care about that.” This is a movie about that gaze and that disapproval, and the way something as innocuous as saying, like, “isn’t that TV show you love and are finding refuge in for girls?” can steal decades of your life from you, because of the shame and fear that it ingrains in you. And so the question then became: who is glaring at us? And it wasn’t just like “oh Fred, get on a casting call and do your best glare.” It was that it means something to see Fred Durst glare at you. Fred is a fascinating and wonderful and generous person. I took Dave McCary (my executive producer) to see Limp Bizkit with me at Madison Square Garden as we were prepping, and as I was basically like “please let me cast Fred Durst as Owen’s dad.” And we walk onto the floor of Madison Square Garden, and it’s like…white militia is the audience, I’d say. [Tuck laughs]

Tuck: Totally.

Jane: It’s a lot of, like, ex-Marine energy in the house, and a lot of the energy that was being cultivated at that show was, let’s say, riling up the audience in the way that you would at a wrestling match. There was such anger and aggression being let out — just people who were riled up getting their rocks off, or whatever. But it was also so homoerotic, and not even subtly homoerotic. Like people…the guy in front of me just kept screaming at Fred Durst on stage “I want to suck your dick!” [Tuck laughs] Yeah, I mean…good admission; [Tuck and Jane laugh] follow that impulse wherever it leads you…

Tuck: Totally.

Jane: …and get whatever you need to get out of your system — there’s a way. At one point early in the show, Dave turns to me and goes “do you ever feel, like, unsafe in public?” [Tuck and Jane laugh] And I was like…oh — this is how you teach cis people what it means to be trans, you take them to the Limp Bizkit show, and you have them stand next to the trans person. And I’m like “yes Dave, actually…and a lot more recently since my transition.” [Tuck and Jane laugh]

Tuck: OK — and what about this was like…I gotta get this man in my movie?

Jane: So then what happens…Dave is like, “you can stay if you want, but I’m actually gonna go before they play ‘Break Stuff.’” And we ran out of Madison Square Garden, and on the street Dave is like “do you still want to cast Fred Durst?” And I was like “yeah, more than ever!”

Tuck: Incredible.

Jane: And then I got on the phone with him a couple days later, and we were talking about French films within three or four minutes. He’s a gentle soul behind the scenes, with a great understanding of film and art. He’s a showman, and it happens to be that the audience that will come to his things at this point tend to be the kind of people who wanna scream that they want to suck his dick, in an arena that feels like it’s about to turn into a riot. I’m interested in the film being this intertextual thing of: what does it mean to see Fred Durst in this particular movie about this particular thing, and how does that spectre bloom both in our collective memories but still in the present tense? Which isn’t to say that it’s about Fred himself; it’s more about this white male rage that I found something in when I was 12 years old, but that has also been brewing and metastasizing since then in ways that I am very disturbed by. ]

[stargirlsuicide]

watching a video essay on andrew blaze and the guy just said 'andrews mom has the same name as joe stair, ex student at columbine school and founder of the trench coat mafia also his dad was a manager at weis supermarket.. more on that later' ty video essayist

[itacoisa]

23 de julho de 2024. Terça-feira.

Oi, oi, oi. Então, vamos escolher o melhor suspense do ano?

Para quem não sabe, todo ano faço esse projeto de tentar decidir qual o melhor livro de suspense/terror/policial que li naquele período. Como agora tenho esse cantinho na internet para escrever baboseira, decidi compartilhar com vocês esse... processo, rs.

Caso você queira dar uma olhada nos antigos ganhadores e na edição do ano passado é só procurar pela tag #embuscadosuspensedoano2023 (ou clicar aqui).

Muito que bem.

Esse ano não pretendo gastar dinheiro comprando nenhum livro, então espero que tenha algum livro digno de receber o título de Suspense de 2024 aqui em casa. Os candidatos são:

Killer Clown de Terry Sullivan e Peter Maiken

Casos de Família de Ilana Casoy

Columbine de Dave Cullen

A Camareira de Nita Prose

Ex/Mulher de Tess Stimson

Ninfeias Negras de Michel Bussi

Joyland de Stephen King

Billy Summers de Stephen King

Portal do Destino de Agatha Christie

Por ora, a intenção não é ler todos esses 9 livros, a prioridade (e os favoritos ao prêmio) são A Camareira, Ex/Mulher, Ninfeias Negras e os do Stephen King. Por isso, a primeira leitura será de A Camareira.

E é isso. Venho com novidades depois de umas 100 páginas lidas.

[intriq]

Masterpost

All uploaded oneshots will be put here.

Most recent...

Scabious…

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ┌─── ∘°❉°∘ ───┐

DC:

reacting to you viewing them as a older sibling/role model

your the ex they want back

dumbass [in denial] - jason todd

Just a Boy... - jason todd

Do I Deserve this? - AK!Jason Todd

Daffodil - Hanahaki Series: Jason Todd

Red Carnation - Hanahaki Series: Talia Al Ghul

Columbine - Hanahaki Series: Kate Kane

Spindle Tree - Hanahaki Series: Conner Kent

Magnolia - Hanahaki Series: Poison Ivy

Mourning Bride - Hanahaki Series: Selina Kyle/Catwoman

Scabious - Hanahaki Series: Dick Grayson

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎└─── °∘❉∘° ───┘

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎┌─── ∘°❉°∘ ───┐

ATSV:

focus on me - miles morales

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎└─── °∘❉∘° ───┘

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ┌─── ∘°❉°∘ ───┐

Genshin Impact:

Dandelion Seed - Kaeya

Starfall - Zhongli

Fool's Gold - Zhongli

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎└─── °∘❉∘° ───┘

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ┌─── ∘°❉°∘ ───┐

Criminal Minds:

French Marigold - Aaron Hotchner; request

Cheer up - Aaron Hotcher

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎└─── °∘❉∘° ───┘

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ┌─── ∘°❉°∘ ───┐

Little Moon [au of DC] universe:

Band-aids

Part 1

Reactions to your death

Letters of Grief series:

Bruce

Dick

Damian

Cassandra

Barbara

Jason

Tim

Steph

Duke

Alfred

...

Part 2

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎└─── °∘❉∘° ───┘

[drunkentity]

intro post

i. 　 ┄┄ 　info. names: val, will, wayne pronouns: he/him

ii. 　 ┄┄ 　blog use. xenogenders, otherkin terms, etc name & prns suggestions considering: mogai headcanons

iii. 　 ┄┄ 　requests info. taking requests for: anything listed above notes: requests may be delayed and are not guaranteed to get done.

iv. 　 ┄┄ 　dni. proshippers/anti-antis, pro 'good faith' labels (ex: 'bi lesbians' and stuff), truscum/transmeds, fans of problematic media/media made by problematic people (ex: hazbin hotel, the mandela catalogue), tcc fans (specifically those who find criminals who did INCREDIBLY bad shit 'silly', looking at those tcc columbine fans, regular tcc fans are fine), anti-objectum, anti-neopronouns. i block freely.

[mysterycharacterflowers]

Round 3; A bouquet of purple hyacinth, purple columbine and hellebore Vs White Crocuses

First, let's talk about the bouquet of purple hyacinth, purple columbine and hellebore

Meaning and why these flowers were chosen: Purple hyacinth: please forgive me. (he couldnt save her, he was too scared and then it was too late Purple columbine: to achieve peace there must be sacrifices (he is the sacrifice. he has been through so much to save the world. oh and in certain endings he becomes an actual sacrifice and the new vessel, but this is bad) Hellebore: anxiety (literally diagnosed) Description: A man haunted by demons, both literal and figurative. A year ago he was too afraid to save someone, and he regrets this. Now he must fight demons, only assisted by his belief in god.

Check his post here

Now, let's talk about the White Crocuses

Meaning and why flower was chosen: a) white crocuses symbolize grief and specifically the grief she has for her mom’s death and b) the god that she creates manifests as a tree of black tendrils and flowering crocuses Description: She starts out as a marketing manager who is doing her best. She’s living well and has a good friend, but her days are pretty tedious and her dad sucks. But then things get rough at her work and a lot of bad things happen and her friend dies, so she drives out of the country to try and clear her head, but instead succeeds at getting kidnapped by the worst hostage takers ever, who are also fugitives and followers of an illegal god, and they then become a weird, kind of messed up found family for her. That ends up with her getting in trouble with the law, but she is eventually released. The whole situation inspires her to try and create a god that won’t be absolutely horrible like all of the other gods in the world, so with the help of her aforementioned not-so-great dad and the ex-cop that once arrested her, she creates a god of martyrs! She briefly gets possessed (I guess that’s how I’d put it?) by said god, so prophet moment for the win! Miscellaneous facts: she’s trans, has a nice singing voice, and can successfully skip rocks

Check her post here

[geffenrecords]

ex posted that he hates black metal fans because theyre all losers who are no better than people who obsess over columbine. on his story.sigh .

[gothicprep]

i'm listening to "the witch trials of jk rowling" so you don't have to. i'm morbidly curious and i want to see where they're going with this, and like to listen to podcasts while i chug through work.

one thing that is probably worth pointing out is that this was produced by "the free press" which is bari weiss's editorial publication. so, given that, the angle that this is probably going for is the encouragement of open dialogue and discouragement towards reliance on partisanship/tribalism. i'm also pretty familiar with bari and get the sense that she's being honest in her commitment to nuance in a way that someone like elon isn't, so i'm taking that into consideration.

the first episode of it is mostly jkr talking about her life when she began writing harry potter and her reaction to how it caught on. she shares more details about her abusive ex husband, and talks about the incongruity of dealing with public attention while having an abusive ex husband still fixated on you. it also probes her psyche as to why she thinks her accomplishments are specifically a feminist endeavor, detailing her backstory as a single mother who wasn't making a lot of money, the fact that "jk" is a pen name manufactured so young boys wouldn't be discouraged from reading her books, and how her abusive marriage is in the backdrop. timeline wise, it takes you to roughly 2000. it doesn't get into her views on gender, sex, and politics.

the second episode is, in my opinion, pretty good. it talks about how the 90s were somewhat of a prototype of present-day american culture wars. it brings up the rodney king riots, the controversy over hip-hop, the anti-psychiatry sentiment, the boom in wicca, columbine, and how these things empowered fundamentalist christians. what i really liked about it is that it brings up two things about columbine that are reliably memory-holed – the public freakout that took place when it was reported that the killers took antidepressants, and the religious martyrization of cassie bernell. megan phelps-roper talks to some lawyers who litigated harry potter related book banning cases. it's intercut on occasion with joanne talking about the book bans, but she's a secondary character to what's being laid out.

my big concern with all this is that megan phelps-roper is a memoirist and essayist, not a journalist. i don't get the impression from her that she's willing to challenge an interview subject as fit for a journalistic piece. some of her questions sound like they were redubbed in post-production, and i read that as her not being a good interviewer.

i'm also curious about where this will go, because so far, it draws a lot of connections between joanne's politics and the arguments of prior unsubstantiated freakouts and christian fundamentalism, and that reflects on her poorly.

i'll post updates on tuesdays/wednesdays as the episodes release depending on when i get around to listening to them, and i'll let you know.

[goddessofthedawn]

been a while since i talked about my books on here but it was my birthday last week so you could buy them as a late birthday present like, if you want. or if you have ku you could read them as a late birthday present if you want. anyway. i got something for everyone. i publish like six books a yea rin various series.

first up you got the pentalogy of hell, with five books in it (iscariot, forty days, lake of fire, the false prophet, son of perdition). if you like huge casts of characters from various time periods because like, they're all in hell, one of the main characters is from the 12th century but he's been dead forever and his best friend is a juvenile delinquent from 1994 so he's got a weird understanding of the world (he eats a kiwi like an apple at one point). anyway. lots of characters. diversity also. in terms of like. everything? i guess? also way less religious than it sounds. really this was created by an atheistic 14-year-old in 2011 who was terrified of the thought of nothingness after death because she's pretty sure that's what's going to happen. but it's chill.

next up abnormal murders. i call this 'stupid-ass murders' in my heart and my hard drive. first book is serial killers with cookies, second is morph suit murderer. i am currently writing the third book, flip flop felony. they sound ridiculous but like, they're pretty dark. the main character is slowly going insane. she loves vigilante justice and everyone around her is Tired.

third up is the tinon trilogy. this is my attempt at fantasy. three books, obviously, it's a trilogy: circus wings, royal blood, bandit born. my fun way to describe this one is "environmental activist lesbian princess fucks things up for everyone." moving on.

the AUGHTS BOYS. oh holy shit you guys, this one is my baby. there will be, by the time it's done, if it's ever done, at least twenty books in this fucker. these books do not need to be read chronologically, and you don't actually even need to read them all, if you don't want to. they're more companion novels than anything. the first one is one more sad song, which follows the stupidest kid in the world as he tries to like, skateboard and be jealous of his best friend kevin getting a girlfriend because he's in love with kevin and has been for like his entire life. the second book, the horror at camp new woods, is a slasher where everyone dies. the third book, right or wrong, follows this kid being friends with Matt the Douche, who is the only common thread between all the books as of right now, and then matt bullies some kid to suicide. uh-oh. that's not good. and the fourth book, hit or miss, is sort-of a direct sequel to one more sad song, so MAYBE read omss first, but it's about this high school hockey player dealing with his ex-boyf becoming a pro skateboarder (lol, guess who that is) and also winning state hockey and also dealing with matt the douche, again. these books either take place in ohio, minnesota, or north dakota, and if it's north dakota, it's gonna be a horror novel. guys i love these fucking books so much.

then vendettic! vendettic is the only series that i have written that i will never ever add anything to ever. it's a trilogy: spahn, sacrifice, sunset. it's about heavy metal in the early eighties and demon shit and they're fun. a little experimental with the writing. main character is the stupidest bisexual to ever live.

and of course i have standalones.

columbiner is about a kid who moves to a new school and gets involved with this kid who is a columbiner. it is my school shooting book.

the crucifixion of craig knox is like, loosely based on the case of the west memphis three. if you don't know aobut the west memphis three, look them up and read about them. i wrote the first draft of this book, 50k, in four days. then i wrote a second draft, 50k, in twelve days. then i printed both drafts out and made a frankendraft which i tehn rewrote it was a whole process.

beyr is like, a side story for pentalogy of hell. you don't need to read poh to read this but it is essentially jus tlike. backstory for one of the characters. that 1994 juvenile delinquent.

carl & jimmy is like... sort of... based on the american serial killer carl panzram. basically what i did was i learnd that carl panzram did, when he was a teenager, run across north dakota burning down churches with a friend and so i made it the 70s and less serial killer-y. i think this is probably the worst book i've ever written.

like hell is one of my favorites. it's about these three dudes who live in poverty and one of them is in a very abusive situation and as i put it, it's about "revenge, friendship, and killing your mom's boyfriend."

and i have three short story/essay collections: life in anachronism, rewind, and graduation day.

so yeah. check 'em out. let me know if you have any questions.

[maddie-grove]

"Love's The Only House" is when I gave up on Martina McBride ("God Fearin' Women" not withstanding)

I remember being impressed with the chorus as a kid after hearing it in the car one time, but, when I went back and found it as an adult, I was astounded by...well, a lot of things, but chiefly the base disorganization. Like, let's break this down:

Martina sees a woman taking more items than are allowed into the express lane at the grocery store. (In the video, it seems like Martina is a clerk at the grocery store, but the lyrics make her sound like a fellow customer.) Martina scolds her that "don't you know that more is less," which seems besides the point. The woman brings up a whole different point by explaining that she feels overwhelmed and hates her life.

Love's the only house big enough for all the pain in the world! Love's the only house big enough for all the pain!

Martina runs into her ex-boyfriend and explains that she's married with a four-year-old girl now, and that he only wants what he can't have (her). Like, she hasn't seen this guy for at least five or six years, right? If this is news to him?

Love's the only house big enough for all the pain in the world! Love's the only house big enough for all the pain!

Martina reminds us that, "three miles from all this prosperity, you go across the river, and you see a ghetto there." Apparently this is a song about social issues, and presumably the incident at the grocery store illustrated some point about how life is too fast-paced. Still not sure what was going on with Martina's ex, though. Anyway, after giving us directions to the ghetto (in Nashville, I assume?), Martina informs us that "we've got children walking around with drugs and knives and pain to spare." I bet they are also stabbing each other with knives and forks, and calling each other names like "dork." Martina reflects that she has a "clean white shirt" (a nod to the weird racial politics of the song? Or merely an observation that these kids lack access to good dry cleaners?) as well as money, shelter, and fuel. These teenagers, she says, are "walking around in a culture of darkness." Judging by the metal detectors in the video and the 1999 release date, I think this is supposed to be about Columbine, but, again, there is some loaded dark/light imagery here.

Love's the only house big enough for all the pain in the world! Love's the only house big enough for all the pain!

There is a bridge (in which Martina is, fittingly enough, standing on a bridge in the music video). She vows to "get her hands dirty and make a stand." Not to be all "how dare you say we piss on the poor" about this, but, um. This does sound condescending re: the hygiene of the people she wants to help.

Martina is now in a parking lot, with a band playing out of tune and (I think) singing apocalyptic lyrics. Or maybe Martina is just having a little Taxi Driver monologue in her head. Presumably in the same parking lot, there is a pregnant "senorita" whose "Don Juan" has left her, due to his lack of role models. This does not seem terribly sensitive, and, also, did the writers of this song think Don Juan was Latino? The girl is now in the grocery store and wants to buy a carton of milk, but is too poor. Martina offers to buy it for her (she's in the grocery store, too, again) and also tells her to "come on down to my house" (literally or metaphorically?).

OH-WHOA!!! Love's the only house big enough for all the pain in the world! Love's the only house big enough for all the pain!

Like, I remember when that Taylor Swift song came out, and it was 33% about how homophobia is bad, but 67% about how people saying stupid shit about Taylor Swift specifically is bad, and it was a mess. And that is a masterpiece of coherence compared to "Love's the Only House."

[todayisyourturntolose]

oh that's my (now ex)mutual...that's my ex mutual reblogging posts abt the columbine shooters.../neg