#SECOND OF ALL. GET THAT MISOGYNISTIC BULLSHIT OUT OF MY HOUSE
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SO UHM.... I love Games of Thrones all the content book/comic/tv show (even if I was ripping my hair out)
I don't want to sound mean and shit...because everybody has the right to consume content as they like.
And from consuming content other content made by fans appear, fanart and fanfiction, blogs (which I freaking adore).
Let's remeber that those are just FAN works cause it seems some people don't understand.
When we talk about the specific content the CANON content we have exclude bias created by fan works because the conversation won't have nuance and sense.
Especially in GRR Martin works, because you cant go around the internet and spread misinformation especially the people who only watched the tv series.
And I saw it especially in House of the dragon with the stupid fan wars team green vs team black.
Let's remeber that a book of Fire and Blood is not a reliable source of information because the maester who wrote it lived years apart from the end of the Dance of the dragons. And kinda wel not kinda was a misogynist so the story was favouring a certain team.
But let's leave that for a second and let's start debunking misinformation and stupid comments:
And please don't say oh I'm coming after team green fans, majority of mischaracterization and misinformation comes from team green fans
Rhaenyra is not heir of the throne Aegon is: Like have we seen the same show since episode 1 they call princess Rhaenyra heir of the throne, even with Aegon being born nothing changed. Aegon gets called the usurper because team green usurp the iron throne from the rightful heir.
Rhaenyra didn't support Baela's claim to inherit House Velaryon: *deep sigh* How could have she done she's not a Velaryon she MARRIED INTO the house, she became a widow and remarried she has no power. If you want criticize someone is Corlys he's the head of the house. And even if Baela succeeded Vaemond and some other Velaryon would have not agreed on letting a woman be heir of Driftmark
Leanor and Rhaenyra should have taken their duties more seriously: nunber one let me just say how funny how your opinions about this characters really show who you really are. Let's remeber Leanor is a gay man and I'm not forgetting some of ya'll homophobic rhetoric. How do yall know they never tried having children. Because if we watched the same show Laenor loves Rhaenyra and she loves him they probably agreed and tried. Some of yall are crazy saying that she should have forced him. If that ever happened the hate towards her would have intensified . Instead of talking how patriarchy literally forced him to marry a woman yall want to dehumanize him instead. And please let's stop comparing this situation to Margery because those are two different stories.
Rhaenyra would have just inherit the throne just for herself and not other women: in my previous post I said this but the more I think. Why do yall expect Rhaenyra to be a feminism advocate
The strong boy bullied Aemond: What they did was wrong cause laying at a kid who doesn't have a dragon is wrong. But bullying how does a 5 year old bullies a almost q0 year old. Luke and Jace were wrong for the pig situation. But let's talk about the Aegon of it all. Why do people like to attack Strong boys so bad, they were literally two kids who wanted to be cool like their older uncle Aegon so they followed what he did. But some of team green stans never bring up how Aegon, Otto and Alicent is the reason how Aemond is Aemond. Because why never mentioning how Argon sent his 13 year old brother in a whore house. How adults failed him because his grandpa and mother literally indoctrinated him in hating team black more.
Aemond is not a feminist is an incel, a hypocrite a man who hates bastards and then had a bastard. And don't give me he was charmed bullshit Targaryen don't get influenced by magic. He was not the best warrior or rider. The only reason he won his battle because he was fighting against the weak (squire, childre and elderly) example Simon Strong and literally made an unnecessarypool of blood in the Riverlands and let'snot talk about Daeron. He was too fool of himself and the got popped by a 50 year ol man.
Lucerys shouldn't get punished: Both of the kids should have get punished from that night. Not only two of them all of them. If you listened you hear Baela saying that Aemond was about to kill Jace. Lucerys maimed Aemond as self defense. Stop saying he WANTED to do it he was 5 who premeditates to main someone. Stop saying that people were afraid of Aemond cause of his eye. No he had a bad attitude and had the biggest dragon. I get in fanfiction yall have to out some spice but at this put out AU tag. Because people can't differentiate CANON from FANON. I let mischaracterization a little bit go in fanfiction but stop getting confused.
Aegon ate: You know damn well
Hating Rhaenyra for going to a brother is just internalized misogyny especially when yall defend Aegon
Team Green was not smart and didn't win the dance. Otto literally had the time to train Aegon as king and didn't then when Aegon became king literally fired him as hand of the king. Team green lost completely when Jaehera died.
The biggest proof of internalized misogyny in team green stand how yall make fun of Rhaenyra still birth and her weight. Just like the maesters in the book
Is ironic and sad that the only person that survived for a while in team green was Jaehera a daughter. If team green didn't uphold misogyny who knows she could have been heir.
Aegon III the third is not team green he literally saw his mother getting killed I understand why he's so depressed
Being racist to house Velaryon is not cute at all. GRR Martin said that they were originally black
Saying the only reason your team green is for Haelena is stupid. Because she was literally abused from team green, her mother and brother. They used her as a pawn and coming back with Aemond being a feminist or a good person if he was he would have never let his sister go through all that. The happiest moment we saw her was dancing with Jace.
Strong boys didn't deserve the hate or to die
Saying if you were Rhaenyra you would have never snuck out, "sleep around" or have bastard children is just slut shaming.
Daemon is a bad person yes but even Aemond, Aegon and Daeron, they are not pinterest boys as ya'll like to headcanon.
Alicent saying that if Jace would have become King, Kingslanding would have become a huge brother is quite hypocrisy because she's talking about her kids even when she calls the Strong boys savages she's still talking about her kids.
During the dance Rhaenyra was a bad ruler, but is caused by the same usurpation cause by misogyny
Oh and stop using people of colour as a way to prove that team black is bad cause we know you really don't care about us.
#asoif/got#house of the dragon#baela targaryen#otto hightower#alicent hightower#rhaena targaryen#lucerys velaryon#rhaenyra targaryen#jacaerys velaryon#rhaenys velaryon
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Hello again!, I wanted to ask some advice (I know tumblr is maybe not the best place to ask, but you seemed really wise in your responses and mature when people talk to you about problematic things), thing is I haven't been able to get over something that been bothering me for a while, so much that I stopped browsing social media and just read fanfics to cure boredom. And I wanted to ask, how do you do it? You interact with people and I have no doubts you receive hate, how do you deal with it?. My problem is, I didn't know how much hate women get on the internet, I tought it was at least a bit exaggerated, because how would some people spend time of their life's doing videos on how awfol women are, WRONG, I found a crap ton of videos of men saying that women when they reach their 30 are useless, worthless, shoukd just stior trying to date because they time has gone and are no longer beautiful and don't deserve love and I'm SHOKED on the amount of videos of this and the people that agree. It's disgusting reading the comments on how it's better to wait for a 17 old to turn 18 so they can date them. How is this posible? Can't believe people like this existed. It hasn't leaved my mind for a while and it has been bothering me, I just want to get over how disgusting people can be. Do you have any advise? Sorry for problem dumping on you but I'm out of ideas and how to stop thinking about it
Ah yes the background radiation of the internet (and life) that so many of us have to deal with on a daily basis.
The internet has given humanity the ability to share both the best and worst parts of themselves with the entire world. The anonymity, the ability to reach a platform without ever leaving your house and/or basically no matter where you are, all of it has contributed to both a spreading of social awareness as well as an ease in the spreading of hate. Most of the hateful content you see on the internet has always existed it just has an easily accessible platform for everyone else now.
Honestly, as a woman who has been on the internet for years, I mostly ignore it. Yes I'll speak out about things occasionally or when I feel it's absolutely necessary, and if someone sends me hate on here I won't hesitate to put them on blast, but more often than not I ignore it.
Because look, the truth is that horrible misogynistic/hateful bullshit exists online just like it does in every other aspect of human life and spending every second of your day dwelling on it and worrying about it can be exhausting.
I block accounts and people who attempt to bring that kind of vitriol into my sphere directly. Occasionally I report things. Overall I do my best to keep myself educated on social matters and I do what I can to curate my part of the internet so that I don't have to come in contact with the hateful kind of content that I do not agree with.
And, most importantly of all, I do not let the things these people say crawl into my head and spirit and nest there. Because at the end of the day that is what they want. They want the attention, they want the people they are targeting to suffer and they want everyone else to agree with them. I will give them neither.
But that's speaking as someone who has known this kind of thing exists and has been dealing with it for years upon years.
So again, my best advice, as someone who's been playing this game for years, would be to educate yourself but do not burn yourself out.
Be aware that, just as you said, there are horrible horrible people on the internet saying horrible horrible things. You should allow yourself to learn about why these things are bad but you cannot let the fact that they exist consume you. Block people, report accounts, and curate your own internet environment.
And if it gets to be too much don't be afraid to unplug, put your devices down, do what you need to do to unwind and feel better and take care of yourself.
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1/2 And we are on 5x02 and he is stressed. After he hit play, he just went ‘they better fix this shit because that was a bad start of the season’… yeah. ‘Oh shit, so this la thing is done? Or is he staying? I feel bad for Blondie but I’m happy I won’t have to see that dude as Rage.’ ‘So Brian really owns Babylon? Ted is almost like Brian’s mom. And best friend. I like this relationship between them’ ‘so Mike and Ben are really gonna buy the house in the boringhood? The difference between Brian’s day and Mike’s day is insane. I like Brian’s way more.’ That scene with Ted in the diner happens where he gets called sir ‘oh i feel bad for laughing but that was funny. I love Ted..Mike didn’t know about Babylon? fucking hell, up until 3 minutes ago you didn’t want a house either. Can he stop telling people how to live their lives?’ Mike mentions JR spending time with them ‘wait what? I thought he was a donor? So now because they broke up he gets to keep her? That’s fucking weird’ ‘this Keller guy looks like he has a wig on. A really bad wig. Also, Justin why are you still here? Go to Brian. Blondie. Please tell me youre not dumb enough to believe Keller. I hate this for him but come on.’ Mike and Ben come up ‘screaming so loud she woke up the baby? THE BABY WAS ALREADY AWAKE MIKE. SHE WAS UP ALL NIGHT. And she’s technically right..i mean he isn’t a parent. Yoouuuuu can provide a more STABLE home? My man, you can’t go one day without being in someone else’s business’ Babylon scene is happening ‘you’re telling me Brian fucking Kinney had a bad opening night? YOURE TELLING ME BRIAN FUCKING KINNEY WOULDNT KNOW HOW TO PROMOTE AN OPENING OF A CLUB? I call bullshit, this is the second dumbest thing I’ve seen in this season. Remember Rage? And that carnival? I am insulted on his behalf!’ ‘WHY ARE YOU STILL IN LA JUSTIN?! I wouldve thought he’d want to go home to Brian? Please don’t tell me Brian was right and he’s gonna go back’ Narrator’s note: at this point he paused the ep and went outside on a smoke break and he is walking up and down the yard stressed out. ‘Awwww Brian is sad. AGAIN, 12?! this makes no fucking sense. He is Brian Kinney. He literally owns a marketing agency and you’re telling me his best idea to promote would be posters? PLEASE’ and it’s revealed Mikey hired a lawyer ‘HE HIRED A LAWYER?! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS HE DOING AND WHY IS BEN HYPING THAT UP? (mike and ben say the single mom/loving stable home with two fathers line) oooohhhh no they fucking didn’t. I hope they rot in hell for that one. TELL THEM DEBBIE. How did they go from being okay-ish in season 4 to being this trash now?’ ‘Awww Brian is hanging out with Gus! How did she get him to step foot into this apartment? Do Mike and Brian even talk anymore? He looks pretty. Why does everyone always go to Brian to fix their problems? You go talk to Mike’ it just showed Ted as a blonde ‘OH MY GOD. WHAT IS HE WEARING? WHY IS HE BLONDE?! Look at Brian’s smile! Ted just delivered him the best gift ever.’ ‘BLONDIE IS BACK AT THE LOFT! MY BABY IS BACK! and Brian is fucking someone.. okay Blondie, look at your smile. THEY ARE BACK!!’ And we are at scene with Justin in the diner ‘oh baby, who are you lying to? AHH i forgot Ted dyed his hair. Can I just say the most important thing? I’m glad Justin’s hair looks good again. (Ted asks Justin if hed like to slit his throat after Deb offers him his old job) WHY DONT WE GET MORE OF TED AND JUSTIN? They would have a nice friendship’ Emmett is offered his job on the news show ‘gay makeovers? Isnt that what Queer eye is? wait, i still have an episode of that one to watch. I prefer him party planning’
Yes! One thing S5 gives us is the BroTP of Brian and Ted. NGL I wish it was Brian and Emmett, but I’ll take it.
Can Michael stop telling people how to live their lives. Everyone would like to know that Brother Anon. And the way Mikey handles Mel and Linds’ split and JR is the very worst. Like so fucking misogynistic and gross. And yes, when Debbie tells him and Ben off it feels so so good.
Okay okay, I think Brian didn’t realize he had to promote Babylon. It was always the most popular gay club.
Having to pause the episode is so real.
Brian looks pretty. Bless. He’s so gay for Gale/Brian. (And why does everyone want Brian to fix their problems, while simultaneously criticizing him!)
Ted as a blond will always be hideously iconic.
Justin’s hair being back to looking good is definitely a relief. And Ted and Justin would have a nice friendship (Scott and Randy have discussed thinking that their characters would get along and had many reasons why.)
And yeesh. Emmett being on that Queer Eye show… was a great opportunity for the show to address the issues with that first iteration of QE. Also, isn’t that the show your mom watched when she was trying to be supportive of your brother?
#ask winderlylandchime#dear sweet anon#queer as folk#a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023
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im going to fucking pull my hair out So since my dracula obsession has returned full force but dracula daily/re:dracula is ending soon and I dont feel like catching up on a bunch stuff, I wanted to watch a bunch of dracula adapations instead, partly to see if they really do my dear friend jonathan as dirty as everyone says, mostly to see whos man enough to include all the gay shit
So I found this tv show called dracula (talking about all these adaptations is gonna be a pain when they all have the same name innit) that came out in 2013 and I just finished the second episode. Throughout the first episode I was just kinda like "this is the lamest bullshit ever" because they immediately did that thing where Mina is like Draculas reincarnated wife or whatever and also this version of dracula lacks both cunt and swag, but then I watch the second episode and I can kinda feel myself warming up to this version of Jonathan and Mina is honestly great, I like that shes an aspiring physician I think that fits her really well, their relationship is a little too modern-antagonistic-banter-y for my taste but it could be worse. And then it keeps going and Dracula goes to a victorian gay drag club to get blackmail on an enemy of his for this shows stupid plot and he kisses a guy on the cheek for powerplay reasons and I perk up because oh! this series is aware of homosexuality and also he and Jonathan are currently doing a thing where Jonathan is gonna stay at Draculas new house in england for..... reasons, idk man, the point is I was getting kinda excited at the prospect of some gay shit in this vampire show because thats what ive been craving lately
BUT THEN at the very end of the episode it fucking turns out that Jonathans actually a massive misogynist who doesnt want Mina to become a doctor and just wants her to settle down and become a proper housewife or whatever and AARGARHAGRAGHA im gonna bite someone
#i really really shouldve expected this#but hearing about my guy being done dirty and actually seeing it are very different#oughhhhhhhh#dracula#lunas dracventures
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It’s come to my attention that a good majority of people on this website have a really poor understanding of the conflict between Toph and Katara in “The Chase.” As somebody who loves both characters and their friendship, this irritates me. Without further ado, let’s unpack that in what is in theory supposed to be a meta but turned out more like a rant.
“Katara was hostile towards Toph because the fact that she’s a gender non-conforming girl made Katara uncomfortable because Katara is obsessed with gender roles.”
Alright, so right off the bat this is just... completely idiotic and clearly fuelled by an agenda (and likely also a lot of projection). First of all, how is Katara of “I don’t want to heal, I want to fight!” fame “obsessed with gender roles?” There’s an entire episode in Book One dedicated to Katara refusing to conform to societal norms for women in the Northern Water Tribe! Katara routinely calls Sokka out on his misogynistic bullshit! (Mind you I adore Sokka but he could be a little twerp at times and Katara was 100% right to challenge him on it) Katara is the feminist icon of ATLA! The fact that people act like Katara is some sort of conservative tradwife who loves gender roles instead of the outspoken feminist and political activist she is makes me incredibly angry.
Second of all, Katara was extremely kind and welcoming towards Toph at first. She gently encouraged her to join in with the group as they all set up camp together as opposed to setting up her own private camp. It’s only when Toph refuses to comply with her that Katara begins to get irritated. Mind you, Toph has her reasons for this, something I’ll get to in a minute, but from Katara’s perspective (key word here is perspective) she’s just being an annoying little stubborn, selfish, lazy, anti-social, entitled brat. Of course we the audience find out later that this isn’t the case at all (or at least in theory we should find out later but apparently some people on here skipped that part), but for all her many talents Katara is not a mind reader and has no way of knowing what’s going on inside Toph’s head, nor does she know her well enough yet to fully grasp the context behind why Toph acts the way she does. Katara is somebody who greatly values community and believes in teamwork, so Toph turning down her warm welcome in favour of “carrying her own weight” likely felt like a slap in the face. Not to mention that she’s already emotionally exhausted from having to constantly mother Aang and Sokka. If I were Katara, I likely would have reacted the same way.
Oh and I agree that the “the stars look beautiful tonight, too bad you can’t see them, Toph” comment was out of line, but it doesn’t make her a horrible person. It makes her a 14 year old, and 14 year olds can be nasty, especially sleep deprived 14 year olds. Katara is otherwise a very kind and compassionate person. Other characters have said worse than that. Hell, Toph herself has said worse than that. That being said, it was a deeply hurtful comment and I do like to imagine that she apologized for it off-screen.
“Toph is a lazy, entitled, and classist spoiled rich brat who just didn’t want to do chores and expected other people to wait on her.”
This is another one that makes me roll my eyes and ask if they even watched the show. First of all, the presumption that Toph is a lazy or entitled person is just... laughable. I feel like people forget that Toph isn’t actually an earthbending prodigy in the way that Azula is a firebending prodigy (I could say more about Azula and how her belief that she was the unshakeable prodigal daughter ultimately caused her downfall and how by the end of the series Zuko is arguably a better firebender than her but this isn’t a meta about Azula and Zuko, now is it?). Nah. Toph was a sheltered kid who discovered she had the ability to earthbend, was told that she could never become great at it because she was blind, and in response said FUCK THAT and decided to work her ass off until she was not only great but the very greatest all thanks to her crazy, stupid, off-the-charts nerve, drive, grit, ambition, and desire to prove people wrong about her. Does that sound like a lazy person to you? Believe me when I say that you do not achieve that kind of skill level by sitting around on your ass and expecting to have things handed to you. And entitled? Don’t make me laugh. Toph hates having things handed to her, that’s one of her defining characteristics.
As for the implication that she’s classist and enjoys basking in her family’s wealth and being waited on...... are you stupid? Did you even watch the show? Toph absolutely despises everything about her parents’ lifestyle. Growing up like that was traumatizing and restrictive for her. We’re talking about a girl who likes to play around in the mud for fuck’s sake. Toph does not care how much money you have. She never wanted any to begin with. She even says it herself; “I guess I shouldn’t be complaining. They gave me everything I could have wanted. But they never gave me what I actually needed - their love.” Not to mention that she easily could have continued to freeload off her parents wealth but instead chose to sneak out of the house and make her own money doing what she did best; disproving people’s assumptions about her earthbending. Oh and I’ve seen someone point this out before but WWE is generally considered a “low brow” activity that “proper” people frown upon and shouldn’t associate themselves with. Toph fucking loved it. I don’t know how seriously people take the comics, as they often miss the mark when it comes to characterization (Toph’s, however, was generally pretty accurate), but there’s a part in The Rift where Sokka asks her when she’s going to start charging people to learn metalbending and she gets all serious and flat out tells him that she will never do such a thing, because money doesn’t matter to her. Sharing her one true passion with the world is what matters to her. Oh and the part where she basically tells a bunch of rich and sleazy businessmen to fuck off and “stop thinking about money and start thinking about people’s lives” is just... *chef’s kiss* Sorry my thoughts here are so incoherent but this take is so piss poor and makes me so angry that I don’t even know where to start. As for “Toph enjoys being waited on” I just- *sigh* Toph has such a visceral and defensive reaction to any implication that she is unable to take care of herself. Like I said earlier, that’s one of her defining characteristics as well as the reason for her behaviour in “The Chase.” Where are people getting these takes?
You wanna know why Toph acted the way she did in The Chase? Well, first let’s recap her life up to this point. Toph was born the blind daughter of one of the wealthiest families in the Earth Kingdom. From day one her parents treated her like glass due to her disability. She was not allowed to leave her house unsupervised, and even then she was only permitted to walk around the gardens of her home. Every day of her life she was pitied, gaslit, babied, ignored, emotionally neglected, and made to feel ashamed of herself. She was not allowed to make any decisions for herself. She was not allowed to do anything for herself. She was not allowed to talk to other children. She had no friends. Other people didn’t even know she existed on account that her parents kept her locked up in her own home and didn’t tell anybody about her because they were so ashamed to have a blind daughter. Flash forward to “The Chase.” Toph begins to set up her own camp separate from the rest of the Gaang. Considering that she flat out was not socialized as a child and hadn’t even interacted with anybody her own age prior to a few days ago, this is understandable. So then Katara comes up to her and asks her why she isn’t setting up camp with the others as if she’s somehow incapable of taking care of herself (again, this is just what happened from her perspective) like she’s her mom or something and it just angers her because she thought she joined this group to get away from all that and she doesn’t understand how friends work because she’s never had one, all she knows is that apparently this girl thinks she isn’t capable of taking care of herself, and that infuriates her because it’s the exact same bullshit she thought she was running away from.
There’s a lot more I could say about this but I’m sick of typing so yeah in conclusion both of these takes are piss poor and I’m sick of having to read them. Stan Toph, Katara, and their friendship.
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Wait. Why do you think Wanda is going to die. Surely she wouldn’t not have any major appearances for so long only to randomly show up in an x title and die? As the lead-in to the “trial of magneto” no less? I’m already sure magneto didn’t do the murder but mags has been actively reaching out to Wanda and still considers her a daughter… it just doesn’t seem believable
It's a theory that I've seen mentioned a few times here and on twitter. The only real hard evidence, as far as I'm aware, is that some wips and other preview images have surfaced which might be variant covers for Trial of Magneto, and appear to include Wanda.
The prevailing theory seems to be that Wanda will either martyr herself for her crimes (M-day) or willingly be killed, and subsequently resurrected, in order to prove that she actually is a mutant. Setting aside the fact that Krakoan resurrection is a man-made process which relies on man-made methods of identifying and recording mutants, and so it stands to reason that you can test somebody for mutation without KILLING THEM*, I'm just sick to death of how the X-Men franchise is treating this character.
Wanda is not suicidal. Wanda is neither consumed by grief, nor is she willing to fall on the proverbial sword in the name of justice. Although progress has been staggered, her trajectory over the last decade has been one of healing and restored dignity. Children's Crusade revised HoM to better explain Wanda's condition, and showed that she had both the means and the motive to help depowered mutants. AvX gave her further opportunities to aid the mutant community and enact transformative reparations, and she continued rebuilding her relationships with all sorts of X-Men characters in the years following. Even after the bullshit AXIS retcon, Scarlet Witch went to great lengths to not only improve Wanda's representation of mental illness, but put the character on a path where she could finally move past the shadow of HoM with her own storylines and her own inner life. Her subsequent appearances in Avengers and Doctor Strange titles have expanded on the notion that Wanda has a life where she's thriving, with healthy relationships and a career in magic that she loves.
Anybody with an ounce of reading comprehension should be able to understand that Wanda was not fully culpable for what happened in House of M, and anybody with an ounce of compassion should be able to understand that the whole saga was hugely ableist and misogynistic. It hasn't always been perfect, but there have been so many attempts to repair both Wanda as a character, and the harmful messaging that was projected onto her. Wanda's portrayal in the current era of X-Men, however, contradicts all of that. Hickman et al have parroted the worst parts of her 2000s treatment, through both secondary and direct characterization, and, I'm sorry, but it's not fair.
Those theories are not unfounded. I absolutely believe that this scenario would be in keeping with Wanda's appearance in Empyre: X-Men, and with the way that her history has been represented, generally, on Krakoa. It just really sucks that all of the efforts to fix this character are being undone in X-Men, and it's especially annoying after Marvel went to such lengths to divest her from the X franchise. And, honestly, I don't enjoy feeling like I'm being punished for investing myself in this character.
Also, if anything does happen to Wanda, and Leah Williams doesn't account for the fact that her son is there at the Gala, I'm going to lose my mind. If there's no response from Tommy, Billy, or Pietro, that will just completely break the characters for me. Like, let's get real-- Billy has all of Wanda's powers, and he's married to the king of an intergalactic empire. If the X-Men ever hurt his mother, they'd have a second Decimation on their hands. I mean, killing her would practically be a declaration of war with the Alliance. I'm just saying.
*this is literally what happened with Franklin Richards.
#THIS WAS NOT MEANT AS SHADE TO ANYONE WHO POSTED THEORIES OR GATHERED EVIDENCE#that's why I'm making my own posts instead of commenting on any of their's#and I don't mean to be incessantly negative or demand that writers should only pander to my taste and interests#I just want Wanda and her family to be well realized characters with compelling plotlines that serve their growth and trajectory#and as a gitano it does sting to be constantly denied this with like... the only characters that even approximately represent me
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Brick Club 2.3.8 “Inconveniences Of Entertaining A Poor Man Who May Be Rich”
This chapter is so long. Here goes.
Is it normal for Cosette to have to knock to get into the house she lives in? Or is Hugo just using that as a vehicle to make Mme Thenardier meet Valjean first?
It’s times like this that I desperately wish I knew more about biblical stories and fables and things. This, a rich man in disguise as a poor man being treated poorly by innkeepers and taking something from them, sounds like a bible story or a similar type of fable. But the only two bible stories I know with similar themes are the nativity story and Sodom and Gomorrah and neither of those seem quite right. Still, this entire episode reads like a fable or fairytale.
We’ve already seen how Evil the Thenardiers are re: their treatment of Cosette. Now we are seeing their Evil in the form of treatment of the poor.
You know, that’s an interesting thing that I’m not going to get into in this longass chapter. Javert’s evil and Thenardier’s evil are different because I feel like Javert’s evil is a lot more muddied or obscured by morality and duty and things like that. Where are the Thenardiers are bad but the badness of their actions is much more black and white. I think it’s also because, technically, they never have social power over anyone unless they are manipulative, whereas Javert always has the social power. I’m not sure where to go with either of these ideas but I will look back on it for a shorter chapter.
Cosette is ugly because she’s sad. It’s like the exact opposite of Roald Dahl’s description of ugliness. I called it on the orphanage thing and kids looking years younger than they are; she looks 6 when she’s 8. That doesn’t seem like a huge difference when you look at it written down but the difference between the size and maturity of a 6 year old vs an 8 year old is surprising.
In the way that the description of the doll was a distant echo of young Fantine, the description of Cosette here is a faded echo of dying Fantine.
“Fear was spread all over here; she was, so to speak, covered with it; fear squeezed her elbows against her sides, drew her heels up under her skirt, made her shrink into the least possible space...” I’m sure this description comes from Hugo observing children in his lifetime, but I also wonder if any of this comes from his brother who had schizophrenia and was institutionalized?
“The expression on the face of this child of eight was habitually so sad and occasionally so tragic that it seemed, at certain moments, as if she were on the way to becoming an idiot or a demon.” What an interesting pair of choices. Fear and sadness either stun and numb you completely or they turn you aggressive and evil. Hugo said the same thing before when talking about Valjean’s prison time. Again, like I said before, Cosette here is Valjean when we first met him: exhausted, scared, sad, numb, hatefully terrified of the people around her; the difference is that she still has hope. She had that moment of hoping someone would rescue her, she had the moment of pausing and wondering what the doll’s paradise was like; when we met Valjean he was past that kind of hope.
(Funny that Mme Thenardier doesn’t suspect the trick Valjean just pulled, despite Valjean “finding” a 20 sous piece instead of 15 sous piece.)
I love the description of Eponine and Azelma because it’s so innocent. They as little human beings aren’t morally bankrupt at the level of their parents yet. They’re still pretty and glowing. Partly because they are well-cared for unlike Cosette, and partly because they are still innocent.
“Eponine and Azelma did not notice Cosette. To them she was like the dog. The three little girls did not have twenty-four years among them, and they already represented the whole of human society: on one side envy, on the other disdain.”
Ah, human microcosms. Hugo loves those. The Thenardier children and Cosette are the pared down, simplified version of society. It’s also an excellent example of how Privilege works in layers. The girls’ doll is worn and old and broken, but the fact of them having a real doll and Cosette having nothing is already a layer of privilege Someone else, another little girl with wealthy parents and a new intact doll would have privilege over the Thenardier girls. There are layers.
I really love this passage too because it shows the start of the zero-sum game between Eponine and Cosette. At no point are Eponine and Cosette able to be equals. But the important thing is that neither of them are aware of this. Later, when Cosette and Eponine encounter each other again in the Gorbeau house, Eponine doesn’t have the awareness to be angry about the reversal of their fortunes. She seems sad, mostly, a jealousy born from a feeling of worthlessness rather than feeling slighted. And Cosette doesn’t even recognize Eponine, so there’s no room at all for disdain on her part, unless she’s disdainful of Eponine et al due to their poverty, though that never seems to be the case. But Eponine cannot be happy while Cosette is and Cosette cannot be happy while Eponine is, because their goals occupy the same fulcrum (Marius) and they can’t both be on the same level at the same time.
Fanfiction has explored this a lot in modern AU but I wonder the kind of havoc that could have been wreaked had Cosette and Eponine met and become proper acquaintances. Their teenage personalities are two sides of the same coin. I’ve always been of the opinion that had they switched places as children Cosette would have ended up like Eponine and Eponine like Cosette. Because Eponine has the capacity for kindness within her, except that she doesn’t know how to use it selflessly; and Cosette has the same stubborn ruthlessness as Eponine, except that she is held back by convention and reduced to talking a lot in order to try and somehow glean information from Valjean or Marius.
“Now your work belongs to me. Play, my child.” This is the second (or third?) Myriel moment for Valjean. Cosette is a child, an innocent child, but her soul doesn’t need to be bought for god. As far as I can tell, for Hugo, children are always holy. Instead, he’s buying her work. But that makes sense. For Valjean, his soul needed to be bought for god because he had already lost it to sin and to evil and to doubt. Cosette still has hope; what she needs bought from her is suffering.
And here is where the parallel continues. Cosette up until now has been Valjean as we first met him: sullen, suffering, scared, dulled, close to becoming “an idiot or a demon” and now, like Valjean’s soul, her work has been bought so she can be free.
I think it is within the walls of the convent that their parallels will catch up to each other and they will become more equal.
I feel as though the cat in a dress vs the sword in a dress must be some sort of parallel to Eponine and Cosette’s personalities but I’m not quite sure how to pull the meaning out.
“A little girl without a doll is almost as unfortunate and just as impossible as a woman without children.” Ugh. Gross, Hugo. This whole chapter was so lovely and then this misogynist bullshit.
I can explain the “water on her brain” line! Mostly because it’s a medical condition I actually have! So, “water on the brain” is another term for hydrocephalus, which is a buildup of cerebrospinal fluid in the ventricles of the brain. It can be caused by being born prematurely (like mine was) or by infections/head trauma. Nowadays they can put a shunt in your head that pumps the fluid into the abdominal cavity (which is what I have), but obviously they didn’t have the technology back then. So what happens to the head if the fluid doesn’t drain, is the head will start to increase in size, and the fluid buildup will squish the brain against the sides of the skull, causing seizures and brain damage/intellectual disabilities and vision problems and other such things. I function perfectly fine except for mild dyscalculia and ADHD (which might have been genetic anyway) but back in the 19th century hydrocephalus probably would have resulted in either mild-to-severe disabilities or death.
Cosette doesn’t have hydrocephalus, but what she does have is severe malnutrition, which can make a person’s head look much too large for their body. So Mme Thenardier is likely using Cosette’s appearance due to neglect to fake that she has a neurological problem and explain why they have to “take care of” her.
Jesus fucking christ this next bit is so much. There’s so much going on. Mme Thenardier is talking to Valjean about Cosette’s mother, the drinkers are singing vulgar songs about the Virgin Mary and baby Jesus, and Cosette is under the table singing “My mother is dead.” to herself. Woof. It is, yet again, an instance of the memory of “Fantine” (in the symbolic, saintly form of the Virgin) being sullied both by the foul songs of the drinkers and the callous, flippant commentary of Mme Thenardier. And Cosette is there under the table, staring at the fire, suddenly playing the role of her own mother, rocking the sword-baby (herself) to try and comfort herself from the shock of this new knowledge that her mother is dead.
(Anyone else read As I Laying Dying, by the way? All I could think of when I read that line was “My mother is a fish.”)
We start to see Cosette’s bold personality come out in fits and starts. She’s brave enough to sneak out and grab the doll Eponine and Azelma have abandoned. But it’s also an example of how desperate she is for something pleasurable and good, considering she’s doing that at the risk of a beating.
For the second time, we see Cosette so absorbed in her moment of “I Want” that she doesn’t see or hear anything else. Again, this seems unusual considering her constant hypervigilance. But her success in getting the doll and her increased confidence due to Valjean’s presence probably have something to do with her lack of awareness.
Cosette is caught with the doll. Is this the parallel of Valjean being caught with Myriel’s silver? Mme Thenardier says “That beggar has dared to touch the children’s doll.” The gendarmes don’t say as much when they return Valjean to Myriel, but it’s pretty obvious they’re thinking something similar.
“We are forced to add that at that moment she stuck out her tongue.” COSETTE IS SO CUTE I LOVE HER SO MUCH SHE DESERVES THE WORLD. Also I just love the way Hugo writes children, it’s so real.
Why did Hugo choose Catherine for the name of the doll? Is it to do with St Catherine? She (the saint) became Christian at 14 and converted hundreds of people before being martyred at 18 after rebuking the Roman emperor for his cruelty and winning a debate with his best philosophers.
“This solitary man, so poorly dressed, who took five-franc pieces from his pocket so easily and lavished gigantic dolls on little brats in wooden clogs, was certainly a magnificent and formidable individual.” Valjean is now Myriel. Outsiders are fascinated by him because he dresses so shabbily and yet is so benevolent and charitable with his money. Again, the difference is that Myriel’s name is always known, and Valjean’s is never known.
I know I say this so often but the distance with which Hugo treats Valjean is absolutely fascinating to me. Valjean has this incredible power to just go inside himself and not move, but we never get that kind if internality unless it’s really really important (like with the Champmathieu affair). Otherwise, Hugo keeps a respectful distance, and even when we get Valjean’s emotions described to us, I feel like Hugo is always holding back a little, like he’s not letting himself see all the way into Valjean, or Valjean isn’t letting him in.
Valjean asks for a stable; I think this is the first time we see his whole thing about sacrifice of physical comfort. Things like this asking for the stable and sleeping in the shed behind the house at Rue Plumet and not having chairs and only eating black bread etc. This is the first example we see of him feeling unworthy of physical comforts to such a degree.
(It’s interesting to me that we don’t see this characteristic when he was mayor, or at least not to this extreme. Is it because it would be unbecoming of a mayor and therefore would blow his cover? Or did going back to prison hammer in that feeling of worthlessness and lesser-than and warp his perception of what he is compared to others?)
“What a sublime, sweet thing is hope in a child who has never known anything but its opposite!” We’ve said this already, but Cosette is full of hope and life and light and that is Important because it is exactly what Valjean did not have when he was in her position. But it means that she doesn’t have to work as hard in her ascent towards happiness and goodness.
And, lastly, I love that the placement of the gold Louis in Cosette’s shoe isn’t just a sweet Christmas gesture or a gesture towards Cosette: it’s also an echo of M Madeleine breaking into houses to place gold pieces on the table.
Wow. Long af post for a long af chapter. Congratulations if you read through all of my rambling thoughts.
#les miserables meta#les miserables#brickclub#lm 2.3.8#les mis#les mis meta#doing this chapter melted my brain a little
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Right Now...
it’s 3:35 AM in Los Angeles, where I live. I’ve finally dragged myself away from the television screen. I hate to disrupt everyone’s Tumblric escape valve with a slug of ugly reality, but right now things are looking very bad in the United States. It appears as though Donald Trump will win re-election, as though the Republicans will retain control of the Senate and as though, while the Democrats will continue to dominate the House of Representatives, they’ll have a significantly smaller majority.
This sad fact says so many ugly things about the people of the United States that I can’t even begin to enumerate them. Tens of millions of people voted to return the openly corrupt, manifestly racist, flagrantly misogynistic and pathetically inept Trump as well as his despicable lackeys to office, despite knowing exactly what he is and they are. In 2016, at least they could claim that they were voting to “drain the swamp” <gag>, to elect an outsider who would shake up the system, or that they were voting to elect a successful businessman to run the US government because that was what the country needed. Of course that was all bullshit even then, but lack of familiarity could be used as an excuse if one felt like being generous (I sure never did). But no such rationalization now exists. Trump’s voters know full well that he’s grotesquely corrupt and self-serving; that he openly calls for the removal of multitudes of their rights; that he’s a glaring racist; that he’s openly coddled armed fascist militias; that he’s looted the federal treasury and stuffed his own pockets with the boodle; and that he’s so mishandled the COVID crisis that the United States, with 4% of the world’s population, has suffered 20% of the world’s causalities from this terrible pandemic. They know he’s a failed businessman who has driven more companies into the ground than most people can count. They even know he’s looks at them, the members of his cult, with utter disdain. They don’t care. What this says about so many of the American people is sad beyond words.
In truth, one of the reasons we see this catastrophe unfolding before our wide-open eyes is because the Democrats, one of the twin parties of the American business class, made certain that their candidate would be a boring, conservative, politics-as-usual hack who stood for nothing, whose nearly half century of political policy decisions in Washington were overwhelmingly backward and who was such a non-entity that he could motivate absolutely no one to vote. They did this because they determined that he was the candidate to stop Bernie Sanders, and that was all they really cared about. The Democratic National Committee, dominated by members of the war-mongering Wall St flunky Hillary Clinton’s political clique were not about to let a moderate social democrat be the Democratic Party’s nominee, particularly when they held such a grudge against him from the 2016 campaign. They determined they’d rather have a second term of the monster Trump than allow a charismatic, principled social democratic Jew be the candidate of their party. Well, as things stand right now, they might very well have succeeded in giving the presidency to Donald Trump not once, but twice. Every resident of the US, and all the population of the world will suffer because of that.
What can I say? World, I wish I could apologize for what the United States has inflicted upon you. I can’t.
Maybe I’ll wake up in a few hours and find things have improved and that Trump is going down to defeat and taking the criminals in his party and his congressional enablers with him. Yeah, and maybe the Martians will land in Times Square tomorrow, also, and once they’ve read the headline in the New York Times, immediately take off, not wanting to ask to be taken to our leader.
Fingers totally crossed that when I get out of bed later in the morning, things will have improved. I’m not holding my breath and I’m not even remotely superstitious.
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I would love to see your Thoughts on the Hugolian Internal Magic System sometime:D It's something I like talking about but def. some Deep Nerding that is not an overcommon discussion!
Ah!! Thank you!! I’ve been wanting to talk about this!
But also, it’s so Big? So instead of overwhelming myself trying to cover it coherently, I’m going to get the ball rolling by scattering undeveloped ideas everywhere.
To start, my feeling is that the brick operates on something that isn’t real-world logic but a coherent system of magic logic, heavily symbolic, and with power over the events in the story. It’s not fantasy-world magic--it’s closer to magical realism, though it never quite reaches what I’d consider that.
There are a lot of magical elements in the brick. Some I want to acknowledge but have little to say about:
The animal thing. The dog-man versus lion-man, mice and cats and all that. The visual use of it in Arai’s manga was how the penny first dropped for me about the brick having magic. Many other people have more coherent thoughts about this than I do.
The fatefulness of spiders and the doom that hangs over anything connected to the numbers four or eight.
Enjolras and Grantaire in OFPD as the apotheosis of the ideal and the grotesque uniting in the sublime--I’ve read meta from you and others about this! It’s fascinating, and I feel like I only half understand it! I have nothing to add to it but it’s wonderful.
A whole lot of characters symbolize different things, and the way that functions has a magic logic to it, and Oh God This Topic Is So Big, I Can’t.
Related to the symbolism, there’s the, um--economy of casting? There’s a coherent logic behind a lot of the coincidences: If someone goes for a police officer, they’re probably going to find one--where brick logic differs from real world logic is, that policeman will always be Javert. All the misfortunes of poor and friendless young women befall Fantine. All people at the cusp between abject poverty and marginal respectability live in the Gorbeau house. I’m not sure I’d quite call this magic, but it’s related.
The place where I first really noticed the magic system myself was with the four-and-a-half characters who have power of will over when they die.
The first is the Conventionist, G——, and it’s with him we get a description of the trait I’m talking about:
Though so near to his end, he preserved all the gestures of health. In his clear glance, in his firm tone, in the robust movement of his shoulders, there was something calculated to disconcert death. Azrael, the Mohammedan angel of the sepulchre, would have turned back, and thought that he had mistaken the door. G—— seemed to be dying because he willed it so.
This isn’t a magic that can be used for arbitrary purposes--you can’t game the system with will-powered immortality. I think it’s more that the characters who have this are so in tune with the magic they become immune to petty injury until they reach the moment of their death--which will be an appropriately symbolic one.
The second of the four is the Bishop, though his death is a little different: instead of culminating in a moment of transcendent will, he’s granted Hugo’s ideal of the perfect death. (Now--I have Massive issues with what Hugo thinks the perfect death is: blind, and beloved woman is taking care of you. It’s gross, sexist, ableist bullshit with wild disregard for boundaries, and Hugo is being The Worst. But anyway.)
In the text it’s the ideal death, and Myriel is granted it. This feels to me like not an exception to the system but its culmination--the other four are granted sublime and transcendent suffering, and Myriel was granted something past that: transcendence without the suffering.
Following the Bishop and the Conventionist are their direct successors, slightly more tarnished, but only slightly: Jean Valjean and Enjolras.
Like the Conventionist, neither can be killed until they choose to die. Until that time, bullets don’t touch them. Both deaths are sublime and transcendent, but Enjolras seems to come closer to perfection--there’s something strangely self-defeating in Valjean that doesn’t exist for the other three. Nevertheless, both of them clearly have near-superhuman power of will over their deaths.
Discussions of what Enjolras would have done if he’d survived after condemning himself for Le Cabuc feel slightly misaimed to me because of this--my feeling is that once he condemned himself, there was no other ending. He belonged to the magic, and he had willed it so--he Knew.
(And... okay, side note, I personally am writing an AU where he lived. But I had to fracture some of the magic system to do it. It felt right to me that in a story about Combeferre the magic would be fractured--I don’t know, I feel like that’s a thing.)
Aside from those four, many characters have different magic at different times. Eponine gains a preternatural ability to get things done, Gavroche is made of magic and Paris, there’s a lot of magic in Cosette, and so on. The Amis are also magic, and a few of them seem remarkably able to perceive it--Combeferre understood Valjean at a glance and described Fantine exactly. (Side note: my favorite headcanon about Combeferre is that he has a nearly unparalleled ability to perceive the magic system but is too at odds with himself to use it.)
But I feel like there’s a character with a half-realized version of the transcendent will like the other four above, and it’s Javert.
There’s something really interesting going on with Javert and magic.
Like Valjean and Enjolras, he’s immune to bullets, (”You’ll misfire”/The pistol misfired.) And Valjean almost gave to Javert the transformation Myriel had granted him, but something went wrong. Instead of becoming the fifth of these supernormal characters, Javert reaches half a revelation and backs away. He wills his own death, but prosaically and with despair, in a bastardized version of what the others achieve.
I can’t prove this, but I put real significance in that moment when Javert’s tied-up body makes a cross with Mabeuf’s body laid out, and instead of bearing his suffering he asks Enjolras to re-tie him lying down. Javert does a LOT of things wrong morally, but magically and symbolically that might be where he got off the path of the Absolute.
(Does it matter symbolically that there end up being four of them (a fateful number) rather than five? Does the feeling of transcendence in Enjolras’s death and incompleteness in Valjean’s have anything to do with the fact that Enjolras convinced Grantaire, but Valjean did not convince Javert? ...I’m not convinced of any of that, but it occurs to me.)
--
And the barricade.
The barricade is made of magic and fate and the Absolute. It magically draws everyone to it and intensifies the magic potential in anyone near it. Enjolras and Jean Valjean become godlike, and everyone else becomes more transcendent as they get nearer.
I swear I can hear the first sparks of the magic of the barricade forming in Grantaire’s dialogue in the Corinth. He’s in the middle of a misogynistic and racist harangue and then he bursts out with:
“And it appears that they are going to fight, all these idiots, to get their heads broken, to massacre one another, in midsummer, in the month of June, when they might go off with some creature under their arm, to scent in the fields the huge cup of tea of the new mown hay!”
(Wilbour. Hapgood massacres this line.)
...then he goes back to rambling, until he wanders into an entirely perceptive (if wryly mocking) description of Marius’s love for Cosette and his own for Enjolras: “They must make a queer pair of lovers. I know just what it is like. Ecstasies in which they forget to kiss. Pure on earth, but joined in heaven. They are souls possessed of senses. They lie among the stars.”
Which, for once, is exactly correct.
And I think these sparks happen because the barricade is beginning, and the barricade is magic, and it’s what finally pulls from Grantaire what he was capable of.
There is SO MUCH MORE I’m sure, but this post is becoming novel-length, so I’ll stop for now.
Anyone who wants, please argue or expand!
#long post#the longest post#hugolian magic system#meta#long meta#asks#javert#enjolras#jean valjean#the conventionist#myriel#pilferingapples
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@geisterwand I’m bringing you up from the replies into a whole post because you need to sit down and listen
You are a disingenuous asshole. Bernie never chose the precise location in Texas for the waste disposal, and if you store it somewhere wet it contaminates the groundwater table. You're just posting disinformation. Next, the "wow how DARE he run against a wamen!!1" whinging is stupid as fuck
Bitching and concern trolling because Rogan, who committed the horrible crime of having 5 year old bad tweets endorsed Sanders, but being completely silent with the NYT endorsement of Warren despite the NYT's role in starting the Iraq War which killed hundreds of thousands of people, displaced many more and pushed the region into further chaos. But hey I guess to you, bad tweets are just SO much worse than dead citizens in the ME
you're also, of course, intentionally and dishonestly misquoting him about Castro but I think it's pretty clear at this point that even a fleck of honesty is too much to expect from you
and ALSO if it's apparently misogynistic to dare to run against warren, then it's also anti-semitic for warren to run against sanders. go figure out which of those ranks higher on the idpol totem pole and get back to me
You are a nearly 30-year-old man with an anime blog ranting at me in the notes of my own post because you can’t conceive of holding a man accountable for his own electoral failures. You are a grown-ass adult man talking like this in the year 2020. You have ZERO basis to stand on here.
I am not, in fact, a “disingenuous asshole.” You are the one that came onto MY post (SEVERAL of my posts actually. Like...bro. Get a fucking life) to genuinely tell me that, because I said that y’all have been rude-ass motherfuckers to everyone for five years and trashed anyone that remotely disagreed with you and I was no longer going to hold your hand about your shitty behavior, said that “performative woke class reductionism is not "progressive"” AS IF that hasn’t been Bernie Sanders’ playbook his entire goddamn life. You’re an utter joke.
But to actually answer your rant:
Bernie put his name on that legislation and advocated for it. He supported dumping Vermont’s nuclear waste in Sierra Blanca, a poor Latino community in Texas. He said on the fucking House floor he was in “strong support” of the measure. And he refused to talk to environmental activists about it in 1998, because “My position is unchanged, and you’re not gonna like it.” When they asked if they would visit the site in Sierra Blanca, he said AND I QUOTE: “Absolutely not. I’m gonna be running for re-election in the state of Vermont.” It’s not disinformation. It’s pure hard fact.
He did the same kind of nonsense with black people from the 60s until 2015...so well that the only thing his supporters can dredge up for how much he’s “supported” the black community can be distilled down to “well he was arrested that one time at a de-segregation protest in the 60s!” Vermont has one of the absolute lowest percentages of black people in the entire country and they make up nearly 10% of the criminal justice system. He did nothing. I can name more. Sorry your fave isn’t pure and doesn’t actually give a shit about non-white people until he needs their votes.
“How dare he run against women” that’s not what I meant and you know it. If he was so desperate for Warren to run in 2016? If he was SO SURE a woman could win the presidency? Why the FUCK did he declare his candidacy two weeks after she declared? For someone that supposedly begged her to run in 2016, he and his campaign did every damn thing he possibly could to undercut her run this go around, from declaring another run 2 weeks after she declared to the smears and “lying snake” shit to the "fauxgressive" nonsense. You know how he could have PROVED he thinks a woman can win the presidency? By throwing his full support and fundraising apparatus behind her after she declared her intent to run. Instead he, a 78-year-old white guy who just had a whole-ass heart attack 6 months ago, decided he needed to make another failed presidential run to appease his ego. I have no sympathy.
Acting like Joe Rogan, a racist, misogynistic, and transphobic fool that peddles in conspiracy theories, is in any way equivalent to one of the largest and generally most-respected newspapers in the United States (and one whose staff has changed several times over in the past twenty years) is utterly ridiculous and you know it.
Also, Bernie Sanders courting Joe Rogan fans before a single vote had been cast in the Democratic primary is a PRIME example of why he lost so terribly on Tuesday. He showed his true colors too early. He showed where he’d go hunting for votes in the general election. He looked at black voters and said “I care more about the votes of racist Trump voters than I do you.” He looked at women and said “I care more about the people who listen to Joe Rogan’s sexist drivel more than I care about you.” He looked at the LGBT community and said “I care more about the people who agree with his comments over you.” And they saw that...and they voted accordingly. That’s on y’all...and it’s a prime example of Bernie Sanders’ terrible political judgment and uh........what was that? “Woke class reductionism?” That’s a good term; thanks for using it. It’s apt for what he thought he was doing with that nonsense.
And no, I’m not. This is a consistent thing with Bernie; he’s all like ‘oh I oppose authoritarianism and of course they did shitty things!’ but then he keeps praising authoritarian regimes that murdered millions of people because they were socialist/communist and “damn we need that economic system here!!!!” There is a time and place for nuanced discussion about what a regime did well or badly. Making those kinds of comments when you’re trying to win the votes of people whose families were literally murdered by those regimes and fled to the United States to escape them? Not the time or place. Again: terrible political judgement, class and economics over intersectional solidarity and empathy for their multi-generational trauma.
It’s not misogynistic to run against Warren. What’s misogynistic is the way he and his campaign ran against her and treated her the entire damn primary. Keep the fuck up.
Thanks for misrepresenting me and my opinions. Thanks for deigning to grace me with your shitty political viewpoints on my posts. Thanks for “getting involved with politics bullshit” since your blog bio says you don’t like it. And thanks for deciding that I apparently give one single solitary fuck about what a Bernie Sanders apologist has to say to me today, because I don’t and I am exceedingly glad you gave me this lovely, wonderful opportunity to show you just how much I no longer care about appeasing y’all’s nonsense after five years of listening to y’all WHINE about how Bernie was “cheated” and how it “wasn’t fair.”
Life’s not fair, buddy, and you’re going to find that out when Bernie Sanders loses to ANOTHER subpar moderate candidate for the second time in a row because y’all spent five years straight trashing 70% of the party and then spent the last 8 months trashing your ideological allies, and then arrogantly assumed you are still entitled to their votes because “his policies are popular!” Go back to your anime and video games, grow the fuck up, and learn from this experience.
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Two and Half Assholes
An entire one person (shout out to @jumpfiend) expressed their wish for me to write an angry essay about the long dead show Two and Half Men (2003-2015) and all the problems it has. Allow me to start by saying that I am by no means a professional critic and I have never really written an in-depth review of anything. But I have a lot of feelings that I need to get out about this shitshow, otherwise my head is gonna explode next time my father insists on watching it.
Just a warning, this is a very long post.
What is Two and Half Men about?
If I tried to write my own summary here, I would probably end up tearing it to shreds already. Instead, I’m going to borrow the annotation from IMDB.com: “A hedonistic jingle writer's free-wheeling life comes to an abrupt halt when his brother and 10-year-old nephew move into his beachfront house.”
That doesn’t really say much, does it now. Luckily, the same site also provides us with a wide range of plot (hahahah “plot”) summaries written by users. This one tells us a little more: “The Harper brothers Charlie and Alan are almost opposites but form a great team. They have little in common except their dislike for their mundane, maternally cold and domineering mother, Evelyn. Alan, a compulsively neat chiropractor and control-freak, is thrown out by his manipulative wife Judith who nevertheless gets him to pay for everything and do most jobs in the house. Charlie is a freelance jingle composer and irresistible Casanova who lives in a luxurious beach-house and rarely gets up before noon. Charlie "temporarily" allows Alan and his son Jake, a food-obsessed, lazy kid who shuttles between his parents, to move in with them after Alan's separation/divorce. The sitcom revolves around their conflicting lifestyles, raising Jake (who has the efficient, caring dad while having a ball with his fun-loving sugar uncle who teaches him boyish things), and bantering with Evelyn and various other friends and family. Other fairly regular characters include Charlie's cleaning lady Berta and his rich, self-confessed stalker neighbor Rose who often sneaks in to spy on Charlie.”
Now that’s much better. It gives us quite a decent picture of the show’s ensemble. At least for the starter episodes, this is pretty much what it is. But as the show progresses, we see that the characters have a little bit more depth to them. But not that much.
Let’s start with Charlie Harper, the “freelance jingle composer and irresistible Casanova who lives in a luxurious beach-house and rarely gets up before noon” portrayed by Charlie Sheen. (Is that man still a thing?) I think we can get a lot by taking apart this brief description of him. Freelance jingle composer pretty much means that he has a grand piano in his house and we can occasionally see him playing it while trying to put together words for a commercial for some random product. And that’s it. He has a few other musician friends who are just as big of assholes as he is, but we’ll get to that later. Other than that, we don’t really see him working at all. I think there is one episode about him writing kids’ songs because his girlfriend’s kid likes them. And one about him getting an award?? I don’t know man. The second part of that statement is a much more prominent “personality” trait of Charlie’s. In nearly every episode, we see him “dating” (meaning shagging and then dumping) another woman. I have mentioned in my initial post that this show is misogynistic. Don’t worry, I will also get into that later. For now I’m going to say that Charlie treats all these women absolutely disgustingly and we’re supposed to laugh at that. On the rare occasions we see him in a long term relationship (which happens twice I think? I’m not sure now), we get the stereotypical ball and chain bullshit. The woman takes all his freedom and tries to make him better. While I hate that trope with burning passion, I have to admit that in this case, she does have a solid point. Charlie is a pathetic excuse of a man who has to count on his good looks (questionable) and his riches. By the way, where did he even get them? Does composing jingles really make that much money? Is he that good of a gambler? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen another episode addressing the fact that the answer to both of these questions is no. Where the hell did this luxurious beach-house come from??? So many questions about a show that deserves so little.
Surprisingly, Charlie is the better one out of the two brothers. At the start, we really do feel sorry for Alan. His wife (who is a HORRIBLE person by the way) kicks him out and manipulates him into still paying for everything and doing many things for her around the house. Who wouldn’t feel bad for someone like this? He moves in with Charlie “for the time being”. Soon, we realise that he is not leaving the house anytime soon. He becomes a disgusting leech, a truly pathetic excuse of a man. And he doesn’t even bother hiding it. I’m not sure if we’re supposed to feel sorry for him or laugh at him, but either case doesn’t really work if you spend at least ten seconds thinking about it. How are we supposed to sympathise with a man that lives off of others and barely lifts a finger to change it? The worst part is, the show presents it as something completely normal. We don’t really see Alan’s actions turning against him, do we? Most of the time, whatever shit he does, works just fine for him.
Another prominent character is Alan’s son, Jake, who grows up throughout the series. A fat little boy, not exactly bright. A spoiled brat (if it’s the fault of Alan or Judith is questionable) that has everything handed to him, as Charlie points out in one episode. It’s another bad personality trait that we’re supposed to find funny. And at first, we kind of do. But once again, as the show progresses, it gets worse. Jake becomes the oldest kid in his class because he fails so many times. He only gets to start middle school because “he’s too big for the desks in his class now”. A bit of a watered down Dudley Dursley now that I think about it. It feels that the older Jake gets, the dumber he is. He eventually joins the military because he is too daft to realise. (If I remember correctly, that was done only so Jake’s actor could leave the show because he pretty much realised how bad it was.)
The main reason why I hate this show so much, however, is its way of handling female characters. There’s a few prominent ones - the aforementioned Judith, Alan’s ex wife, a cold hearted manipulative bitch, that also follows the trope of “I’m breaking up with you because I’m a lesbian” for a while, but then it’s never addressed again, not even once. Then we have Alan and Charlie’s mother, Evelyn, also a cold hearted bitch lacking any motherly instincts whatsoever that the men blame for how they turned out. Honestly, I can kind of see it. There’s Rose, Charlie’s neighbour whom he had slept with once and who’s been obsessed with him ever since, following him pretty much wherever he goes and inappropriately visiting him, usually in order to chase any woman that gets close to him away. We have Berta, Charlie’s housekeeper that I would like to believe is there to show the differences between different classes, as she has a large family to take care of, fending of her daughters’ admirers and dealing with drug and alcohol issues. But at this point we all know she’s only there so we can laugh at her struggles and the witty remarks she likes to make.
A special category of women in this show are the lovers and girlfriends. All of them end up either leaving the men for someone better (good for them tbh), or getting left by them. But remember, we’re supposed to always be siding with the men. The women are there for us to laugh at and hate. Rose the stalker? The only reason Charlie never gets rid of her is so we can laugh as she appears unexpected on his balcony over and over again. Are her apparent mental health issues ever addressed? Maybe once, but as a joke. You know, the classic ha ha ha ha look an insane person that’s hilarious. Judith the ex wife and her flock of weird friends (that Charlie converts)? Look, evil wives hating men, ha ha ha ha. Better run away from there, men, or they’ll eat you alive! Ha ha ha ha. Judith wanting support from friends and claiming she deserves to be happy is played off as something we scoff at. Chelsea, Charlie’s girlfriend and fiancée? The ball and chain thing, similarly to Judith, but not nearly as manipulative - this one we can see really means well and wants to help Charlie, but he’s a Man™ and cannot handle that, despite claiming to love her very dearly. Lindsay, Alan’s on again, off again girlfriend? Oof. Where to even start with that one. As most of the characters (save for maybe Judith), she starts off decent, despite her inexplicable desire for Alan. (Seriously though what in the world is up with that.) Also, now that I mentioned Alan’s weird sex appeal (not to me but to the female characters of the show, ew), what the hell was up with Judith wanting to suddenly fuck him again and HIM ENDING UP BEING THE FATHER OF HER DAUGHTER???? Was that the point when the writers just said “you know what, fuck this” or?
Some additional things the men on the show did to women:
Infidelity. Aka “ha ha ha many women want man what a lucky bastard he gets to fuck many women ha ha ha oh no he’s been caught ha ha ha funny”.
Infidelity with their friends/family members. I’m pretty sure this happened multiple times. One of the male protagonists gets a girlfriend. Girlfriend has an attractive daughter. Man sleeps with daughter. Girlfriend is mad. Man claims that it is actually a compliment to her because the daughter is just a younger version of her. Man gets upset when girlfriend disagrees. Poor man, girlfriend mean :(((
Another thing I would like to point out is the show’s dumbass approach to sexuality and gender. It’s the age old, straight men bullshit that lesbians = hot, gay men = ew. We see that throughout the whole thing a bunch of times. Alan ends up marrying Walden (whom I will talk about as well) so they can scam an adoption agency. That’s just wrong, man. That’s awful. And regarding gender, the way this shitshow handles trans people is disgusting. I can currently only think of one instance of this, but I have a feeling it happened multiple times, but with Charlie and Alan. They meet a woman, flirt, sleep together, all fun and games. But for some god forsaken reason, after all is done, the woman decides to be like “yeah by the way I used to be a dude” and?? Why?? First of, why would any trans person want to tell anyone their deadname and other things after successfully transitioning? I’m a cis woman, but this really makes no sense to me. Please correct me if I’m wrong on this one, but if you’ve spent years trying to pass as whatever gender you identify with, transitioned, you wouldn’t exactly go around sleeping with people and afterwards telling them about it, would you? And second of all, the entire reason why these characters appear are so we can be like “eww he slept with someone who used to have a penis eww” and laugh as they have a small crisis because of it. Just. Why?? I am aware that this is a thing other shows do/have done as well, but it really bothers me. And even when the guy decides to roll with it, all we get are those jokes that the woman is “more manly” than him. I remember vividly Alan hooking up with a trans lady and briefly dating her, only so we can see her pick a fight with a man, pay for their food and shit and Alan being flustered because he feels like less of a man. Again, please correct me if I’m wrong since my knowledge of gender is limited, but I’m about 97 % sure this is not how it works.
One would have thought that most of this would end after Charlie’s death. His place is taken by Walden Schmidt, portrayed by the angel that is Ashton Kutcher, a “billionaire internet entrepreneur who has recently been divorced and is now suicidal” (wiki). Before I dig in to how it actually got worse, let’s talk about Walden for a while. He really is a nice change. Walden is a genuinely good character, we see him working super hard and treating women well and just being great. I actually like him. The problem the show has when it comes to him is treating his suicidal-ness as just another little joke. Ha ha ha man wants to die man weak. Funny. But as we get over this part (rather quickly tbh), things involving Walden get actually good (besides the part where he sleeps with Alan’s mother). We do see some annoyingly familiar divorce related things, but in contrast to Alan, we see Walden actually get back on his own two feet.
Alan will forever be my biggest issue with this show. I don’t know if he gets worse or if it’s just the contrast with Walden that makes it seem that way, but he becomes a bigger and bigger parasite, exploiting Walden’s kindness, becoming a lover to his, at that point, former girlfriend Lindsay and somehow exploiting her current boyfriend? He just goes haywire is what I’m trying to say.
I’m not saying that people like that don’t exist. We see it every day, the rich playboys, the pathetic incels. They are everywhere and we totally should talk about them. But not like this. We shouldn’t feel like we should sympathise with them, we shouldn’t hate those that try to criticise them, or those who want to get rid of them. We shouldn’t laugh when they hurt people around them. Men shouldn’t want to relate to them. Characters like this should be presented as something we should avoid becoming.
“What’s your problem? It’s just something I watch to unwind,” my father scoffs at me as I complain about yet another evening we all have to spend listening to the nonsense Two and Half Men brings us. Yea, maybe for you. Maybe you know better than to treat people around you, especially women, like they’re just something you can play around with and then throw into the sewers. Maybe you give everyone equal respect. (No he doesn’t, by the way.) But you know, with the way this TV channel plays this show over and over and over and over again (five episodes a day, every day, and the second they get to the end, they just start over), there’s probably a number of young people who don’t realise how wrong it is and take what’s said there as something to live by. Maybe they’ll think that it’s okay to use people to their advantage. Maybe they’ll think like a rich entitled middle aged straight white man. That’s my problem. Even though the show ended five years ago, it still lives on our televisions and it still gives us wrong examples on how to live our lives. That’s why I hate the show. Not just the awful writing and “plot” holes. It’s the way it treats people and presents it as something that’s totally fine.
#tv#television#tv shows#comedy#sitcom#two and half men#jon cryer#ashton kutcher#charlie sheen#sexism#misogyny
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Eyes of Juniper Ch. 2
Chapter 1 -- Ao3 link
Chapter Summary: James wakes up to the 'surprise you've gone mental' to end all 'surprise you've gone mental's
Notes: I wrote this chapter over a year ago and I haven’t changed it a bit, including the notes: Okay, so, I'm a slightly gender critical woman and a feminist (if you feel the need to fight me on this don't just ignore my story and leave pls) so this story is kinda uncomfortable for me to write at moments. I'm trying to be realistic to the general views/actions of male metalheads from the 80s.... But that also means there is a lot of objecting and misogynistic stuff being said. I apologize, obviously I do not at all actually support this stuff in life, but I felt I should warn it is there. I want to state again that I do not actually view women this way, and I fucking hate how we're objectified, stereotyped, and shoved into the bullshit gender boxes, but there wouldn't be a story of i didn't. Okay, now back to the show
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(James' POV)
I was awoken by a shriek at bumfuck o'clock this morning, and I was not happy about it. Who the hell is screaming this early in the morning? Well, judging from what I can hear past the bongos in my head, it was two chicks having a fight upstairs. Great.
Also, why the fuck was I down here when my bed was on the second floor of this shitty house? Ah, yes, fuckin' Lars. Little shit had to go and bring home some hippy dippy chick (no disrespect meant, Cliff), which of course meant I had to vacate the premises of our room so he could give her a mediocre fuck.
I groaned and scrubbed a hand over my face, trying to rub away the crust from my eyes and the drool spilling down my chin. A chipped coffee mug and half empty water bottle were suddenly being held in front of me and I squinted up at the source. Cliff!
I slowly sat up, groping around on the back of the couch for some leverage that wasn't coated in tacky month old beer. He patiently waited for me to be upright then handed me the water and coffee. Man, Cliff is by far the best person in the world!
After I had drained both containers, he hauled me to my feet and asked, "Dude, who're the chicks?"
I shook my head, then winced as last night's tequila throbbed. "I don't know, man, probably came back to the house with us. I remember Lars grabbing that chick, did Kirk get one too?"
Cliff looked thoughtful. "Nah, at least I don't think so. He said he was too tired from yesterday morning," he implied with a lewd grin.
I snorted and walked towards the stairs. Despite what some people might think, I didn't have a problem with gay guys. I mean, yeah sure, maybe when I was younger, but seeing two of my closest friends, especially the amazing Cliff Burton, so happy together I just couldn't keep thinking that it was bad. So, no, I didn't really have a problem with it, but I totally teased them. What are friends for, after all?
"Hey, ladies, we do appreciate the service you've done our ugly ass friends, but could you keep the cat fight down until you've left the house?" I yelled, still trying to figure out where the second chick had come from. Maybe Lars had grabbed two? I was pretty sure that I hadn't brought anybody home last night, at least.
Cliff must have followed me up, because he suddenly was leaning on the railing, observing the two petite, scantily clad girls hugging on the landing.
"Aww, they've made up! Good! Now, can I ask what exactly you two were yelling about so loudly that it woke me and my boy James up? Did Lars do something?" He asked, smiling at them, although I could see the confusion in his eyes.
The brunette chick stood up straight and turned to us with a sneer, "I did fucking not!" she replied.
"Holy shit, Lars!?!" I screamed. That looked a lot like Lars, at least. Those swirling Juniper eyes, the little upturned nose, the pouty pink lips. Hell, even the slight accent as he (she?) sassed me was perfect. Did I just walk into an episode of the fuckin Twilight Zone?
"Hi, Jamie," Lars?! sighed, letting go of the other girl to step back and run a hand through his hair.
"What. The. Fuck." It was all I could think to say. I mean seriously, WHAT THE FUCK? What had happened between right now and last night to turn Lars into a (admittedly very hot) girl?
"I don't focking know, man," Lars sighed again, "I woke up, went to piss and my dick wasn't there. Then I heard Kirk scream and that chick I brought home last night started jabbering some shit about respect for women and turned Kirk too, then she fucking disappeared!"
I stood there for a minute, staring at him and taking it all in. It was at that moment I really noticed Kirk, too. Now that Lars had stepped away from him, I could see the slim, still mostly Kirk-like but definitely female, body shuddering in the dingy light from the window down the hall.
Cliff strode over to Kirk then and reached out a hand, gently cupping his cheek so that he could look at him. Kirk still looked bewildered and frightened, but seemed to calm down once he felt Cliff's touch. My bassist moved in closer, murmuring something to Kirk that had him blush and bury himself in Cliff's arms.
Lars seemed to have reached the same conclusion as me: they needed some privacy to talk and calm Kirk down, because he grabbed my arm and led me back downstairs to the couch.
I settled back against the lumpy cushion and waited for him to say something, because I sure as hell couldn't think of anything.
"So, I've been cursed, I guess," he said, sounding a lot more dejected than he had up there.
"Yeah, obviously," shit, I should maybe not sound like an asshole right now, this is a delicate situation! "You said the girl you brought home last night did this to you because of you disrespecting women. You DID grab her ass... "
Lars had the decency to look ashamed, "...well yeah, buT THEN SHE CHANGED HER MIND AND WENT HOME WITH ME."
Oh, great, and now he's getting all defensive and angry like he does when it even sounds like you're insinuating something about his game or sexuality or whatever.
"Dude, she probably went home with you to do this." He harrumphed at my superior logic and crossed his arms, inadvertently drawing my attention to one of the new additions to his physique.
"Alright, so you were a dick and she cursed you to get back at you. Weird magic, but nothing new. But what the fuck happened to Kirk?"
#Metallica#metallica fanfic#fic#fanfic#fanfiction#my writing#lulucrowproductions#tallica#lars ulrich#little lars#kirk hammet#kirky wooi#cliff burton#cliff my man#james hetfield#papa het#chapter two#alternate universe#au#sex swap#sex swap au#magic#slow build\#friends to lovers#fluff#\angst#humor
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This might be ignored,its a long read, but if you want to have your forces restored on feminism my dead feminists i really wanted to share something that is making me tear up every 5 seconds.
As some of you might now, in my country (Brasil) we currently have a situation where our "president" is a misogynist (said he had a bunch of boys, they he went weak and have a daughter that's a "small" example for yall), homophobic ( said he would beat the gay out of his son if he ever "got it"), racist ( talking about killing native Indians and saying slaverism was a choice yadayada) anyways, just a piece of crap, we call him Bozo, like the clown. Well ever since his election we have been feeling so down (I'm sure my American friends can share the feeling). We are the country that kills more transexual people on the world. And it's not even illegal here, that would put into perspective. So, all this are real, serious problems, but bear with me as I get I little... naive maybe?. Well we had 20 seasons of BigBrother over here (Or BBB, Adding the Brasil at the end) and the show is on "the liberals tv channel, all the conservatives try to boycott it yadda yadda ") . But this season is just a gem. I feel like a revolution is happening and (I'm crying rn) I can't even put into words. Its gonna sound ridiculous, but you have to understand that 1) TV is a huge part of our culture, and is 100% connected with politics for us. 2)This show has been silencing woman, making men do anything they want without consequences and put woman as simple objects for their enjoyment. And somehow every year we wouldcomplain about how that was the reflection of our country. Something like this year edition NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE.
Our LGBT movies, Theather and books are being censoreds right now. Our country is on the verge of becoming a conservative doom.
The secretary of health system said :abstinence of sex is the best way to avoid DSTs and pregnancies. THATS HOW DEEP IN SHIT WE ARE. And we feel voiceless. Is like they are the majority you know?
Is like, you know when Katniss made every distric rebel by leading an example on the hunger games? Is THAT KIND OF SHIT. So, firsts things first:
I will introduce you the leaders of our current feminist movement
First, Thelma, she is not just ya regular powerful black queen. She is a doctor, with a bunch of degrees on stuff I can't even pronounce,she is specialized on anesthesia and she is a resident like those bad ass ones in grey's anatomy. She she is A BOSS. She is strong, and even though she is not 100% familiar with the feminism in "theory" she lives it in practice with out even knowing it ( now she knows, cause the other two are teaching her!) I want to make clear that on this reality show, the majority of the public has always been racist, and black people normally are eliminated first, yes it sucks and is one of the reasons I stopped watching a long time ago, as most of us millenials, but thank God we came back. She isn't going ANYWHERE CUZ WE ARE NOT LETTING THAT HAPPEN.
The second one is Marcela, every since the first we saw her she said loud and clear:I AM A FEMINIST, she is also a Doctor. She calls her self doctor unicorn, she is an OB/GYN and choose her career because she wanted to fully support her transexual brother /yess/, she is also expert on female sexuality and give classes about it, think Carina Deluca. She also takes care of sexual abuse victims. Oh yeah, she is bisexual as well. And everyone is shipping her with the next one btw.
Now our last warrior: Gizelly, She is a Lawyer, and she advocates for woman, she has suffered all the types of abuse from her ex husband and after all the trauma, she decided no one would do that to her again. Feminist, we call her the hurricane, she just shoots fire and defends any woman that is being belittled.
What happened was, some guys decided they would "seduce"any woman who was in a relationship outside the reality show, so they would look bad, and be eliminated easily. Wellx those 3 heard that, and they just couldn't get quiet. They went and tell all the girls about it. Some of them didn't believe them, the guys said they were CRAZY, and were LYING (what a shock)
The confrontation scene:
So one of them said: If I am lying, I will be eliminated this round. If I'm back, then you are the lier. So, regular reality show stuff right?
Here are some things you should know: Marcela, the leader ( as she was the one with the initiatives) was anonymous when she first got on the show, and 13 days later, she had 2 MILLION FOLLOWERS. Every feminist, every LGBT+ and ally on this country just woke up ya know?. We were all mad as hell that they were being treated as liars, but, and that's a HUGE but, the guy mentioned earlier was against one that was even worse. He was touching inappropriately the girls while they were completely DRUNK at the parties ( they wouldn't remember later), he was the one who actually made said plan mentioned before, but they didn't knew at the house because he was a completely different person when he was alone with the guys. A complete scumbag, he mocked and made fun of every woman on the house because of their looks etc. Sooo, all those millions of feminists watching were like : "do we take the biggest jerk and make the girls think we think they are lying or ?" Well, we decided to take the bigger toxic monster first, and left the other one for the next. But we had a special card. Every year, after the show starts, they put a glass house in the middle of a mall, with 4 candidates inside, we vote for 2 of them to be on the actual show yada yada. What happened was:people started showing off by the mall, with posters, begging for whomever got in the house to :"PLEASE TELL THE GIRLS EVERYONE BELIEVE THEM. THAT THEY ARE NOT LYING. THAT THEY HAVE MILLIONS OF SUPPORTERS. THAT HE ONLY CAME BACK BECAUSE THE OTHER WAS WORSE ETC"
So, last night was elimination day, the worst one got out with 80% elimination A victory for us (there were 4 people on this run, and one of them is a Black guy, fat, older than everyone else, and by history, he would obviously be the first eliminated but he was the one with LESS VOTES. AGAIN THIS IS UNPRECEDENTED IN OUR COUNTRY SPECIALLY SINC THE FOURTH PERSON COMPETING IS A CARISMATIC YOUNG KOREAN MAGICIAN YOUTUBER WITH A NETWORTH OF MILLIONS, BUT THE BLACK GUY WAS LESS VOTED THAN HIM, GUYS I CAN'T STOP WRITING IN CAPS.The second worst one tho, comeback celebrating, saying he knew he was right. Singing victory. The girls were crashed. No one understood and they all started crying and talking about how it was a reflection of our country, but that they wouldn't change their ideals etc. (Again, they didn't knew everything trash bag number one did, cuz he did it in secret so they thought it was an answer)... well, 2am, the couple from the glass house got in. And they told them. They said everything. How the public loves them, and the why the other one got out first, and how we knew they were saying the truth. This part is just a sweet ending for y'all. They then proceeded to get all the woman in one bedroom and talked and talked, they even explained to the ones who had some deep patriarchal mindset and were believing the boys up until that point, they had conversations about feminism, about not accepting to be treated that way, they cried, they were so relieved, it's silly because is a reality show, but last night everyone felt like we were supported. Like, people got our backs! People agree that we wont take that bullshit anymore. In other editions those guys would be the handsome guys that all the girls would die to be with, you know? But know they are the villains. It happened. The girls are not the crazy ones. They are not the powerless wones. They were the STRONG ONES forming OPINIONS, moving the big pieces on the board.
I can't even talk about how this will impact on many young girls, especially with all those girls having such strong stories you know? Today is a reality show but whatch us on the booting vote! Watch us at the March's. Just watch us. I'm telling y'all. Brasil is gonna turn this shit upside down.
Anyways here is a little clip of when our guardian Angel Dan, told the girls that they should trust Marcela's word
The relief the felt, we all felt. Having your word taken seriously after being called crazy and lier...
( even the production of the show tryied to deny the guys plan was real before the videos started pouring up, and they had to take back after saying on national television that Marcela was lying. Because that was the standard)
#big brother#BBB#Big Brother Brazil#big brother brasil#marcela mc gowan#Feminism#third wave feminism#inclusive feminism#liberal feminism#lgbt+
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Supernatural- Hell House (1.17)
ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ... ᴮᵃᴮʸ ,,, i’m SOFT
Pairing: N/A, Olive Winchester (OC)
Summary: John’s gone, and the siblings are itching for a hunt. They call on the Richmonds for an extra hand. Sam and Dean start their own war, and Olive is left in the middle once more. Things are not what they seem.
Warnings: cursing, blood, bloody mouth, mentions of suicide, murder, gross old man flirting, etc
Word Count: 10,100
“What are you doing?” I asked Dean through a yawn.
I had fallen asleep on his arm the minute we hit the road, but now he was reaching for something, and it had woken me up. Jinx shuffled around in the backseat.
“Shh. Go back to sleep.” He kept his eyes on the road as he dug around in the backseat.
I let my eyes fall shut as I leaned back into his side. The Daeva had left a nasty gash on my thigh, one that we wouldn’t be able to explain to a doctor. Dean stitched me up, which was fine because I trusted him with my life, but it hurt like a bitch the whole time. Sam had to take Jinx out for a walk because she wouldn’t stop crying.
“Do you reach my phone?” Dean whispered.
I huffed as I dug through his jacket pocket and flipped his phone open. He took it, aimed it at Sam, and snapped a picture. I groaned at the noise and looked up to see Sam asleep with a plastic spoon hanging out of his mouth. Dean tossed his phone in my lap before blaring the music and singing along. Jinx let out a bark.
“De!” I whined, covering my ears.
I had been feeling weak and cranky for the last week. Sam shot up at my voice, or the thump of the bass, and spit the spoon out of his mouth. It landed on my knee and I swatted at it, letting it fall to the floor. Dean grinned as Sam leaned forward and turned the music down.
“Sorry, bug. Didn’t mean to spit it out on your knee.” He cooed as he put his arm up, inviting me to curl up against him.
I only grunted as I leaned over and pulled my feet up onto the seat, making a deliberate effort to hit Dean’s knee with my toes.
“Haha, very funny.” Sam glared at him.
He chuckled, ignoring my prodding. “Sorry. Not a lot of scenery here in East Texas, kinda gotta make your own.”
“Man, we’re not kids anymore, Dean. We’re not gonna start this shit again.”
“What shit?” Dean asked.
“The prank stuff. It’s stupid, and it always escalates.”
“Aww, what’s the matter, Sammy? Scared you’re gonna get a little Nair in your shampoo again?” Dean teased.
“Alright.” Sam shrugged. “Just remember, you started it.”
Dean snorted. “Bring it on, baldy.”
“Please, no.” I fussed. “I always get caught in the middle of your stupid prank wars.”
“Swear we’ll leave Olive out of it.” Sam put a pinky up, and Dean side-eyed him.
“Do I look like I’m gonna pinky promise you anything?”
I shoved my pinky into his face, coming dangerously close to his eye.
“Fucking pinky promise to leave me out of it, you prick.”
Dean scoffed as he hooked his pinky around mine. “Fine, fine.”
“Where are we anyways?” Sam asked with a yawn.
“A few hours outside Richardson. We’ll stop in a bit to let Jinx use the bathroom. Gimme the lowdown again?” Dean glanced between us and the road.
“Uh, hold on.” Sam took his arm back and sat up straight, digging through his bag. “Alright, about a month ago this group of kids goes poking around in this local haunted house.”
“Haunted by what?”
“Apparently, a pretty misogynistic spirit. Legend says it takes girls and strings them up in the rafters.” Sam explained.
“Right, which is why we called on the Richmonds. Hunter will be our temporary Olive.” Dean spoke, then faked a gag. “God, I hate the sound of that.”
I rolled my eyes and leaned back into my seat. “Why can’t we just do this like any other job? Why’d we have to bring the Richmonds along?”
Dean eyed me. “Relax, short-stuff.”
“We’re not letting you walk into a death-trap, Ol.”
I snorted. “Oh, please, Sam. We’re hunters. You do realize we walk into death-traps for a living, right?”
Sam and Dean shared a look over my head. Dean said nothing, and Sam huffed.
“Anyways, this group of kids sees this dead girl hanging in the cellar.”
“Anybody ID the corpse?”
“Well, that’s the thing. By the time the cops got there the body was gone. So cops are saying the kids were just yanking chains.”
I yawned. “Maybe the cops are right. High school kids are fucking idiots.”
“Ollie, you are a high school kid.”
“No, I’m a hunter who happens to be high school kid aged. There’s a difference.”
“Either way, I read a couple of the kids first hand accounts. They seemed pretty sincere.”
“Where’d you read these accounts?” Dean asked, skeptical.
Sam cleared his throat and looked out the window, his tell of embarrassment. I giggled. He must’ve gone onto some pretty stupid websites.
“Well, I knew we were gonna be passing through Texas, so um… last night, I might’ve surged some local… paranormal websites.” He pushed out quickly before clearing his throat again. “And I found one.”
“Uh huh.” Dean looked over with a face that read ‘that’s ridiculous!!’.
I snorted. “And what’s it called?”
“Hellhounds lair dot com.”
“Oh, lemme guess, streaming live out of Mom’s basement.”
Sam cracked a grin. “Yeah, probably.”
“Yeah.” Dean sighed. “Most of those websites wouldn’t know a ghost if it bit them in the persqueeter.”
I giggled, and Sam groaned.
“Ah, grow up, Ol.”
“Oh, come on, Sams, it’s a funny word.”
Sam shook his head with a sigh. “Look. We let Dad take off, which was a mistake by the way, and know we don’t know where the hell he is. So, meantime, we’ve gotta find ourselves something to hunt. There’s no harm in checking this out.”
“Right, right, except that if Olive steps foot in the house she’ll probably die.”
I rolled my eyes again before turning to Sam. “Where do we find these kids?”
“Same place you always find kids in a town like this.”
***
“If she blocks me in, I swear to god.” Dean grumbled as Everett pulled in next to us.
She parked so close that Dean couldn’t open his door. He cursed under his breath, and Sam rolled his eyes as he opened the passenger door. I turned around and smiled at Jinx.
“We’ll be right back, girly.”
“Make sure you leave the windows down for her.” Sam reminded us.
“Alright, come on, De.” I tugged on his sleeve.
“Total bullshit.” He mumbled under his breath.
“I know, I know.” I climbed out through Sam’s side. “You coming?”
He let out a sigh as he climbed out, fixing his jacket.
“You really need to learn how to park, Winchester.”
“Bite me.” Dean spat.
“Alright, alright. Come on.” Sutton pulled her sister along.
Hunter stifled a yawn as he climbed out of their car, pulling a hoodie on.
“Nice dog.”
“Name’s Jinx.” I latched onto Sam’s hand and yawned, too.
“So how are we handling this?” Sutton asked.
“Reporters.” Dean called over his shoulder. “Come on.”
***
“It was the scariest thing I ever saw in my life, I swear to God.” The boy sitting outside tells Sam and Dean.
Dean tries hard not to roll his eyes. He focuses on Jinx instead, who had barked so loud they had to take her out of the car. The little dog is on her side, head on Dean’s shoe. He smiles as she looks up at him and wags her tail.
“From the moment we walked in, the walls were painted black.” The second boy speaks to Everett and Sutton through the serving window.
“Red.” The first boy says.
“I think it was blood!” The girl hisses at Hunter and Olive, who are sitting inside with her.
“All these freaky symbols.” The first boy shudders.
“Crosses and stars.” The boy at the serving window shakes his head.
“Pentecostals.” The boy outside says, and Sam and Dean share a look. Even Jinx tilts her head.
“Whatever, I had my eyes closed the whole time.” The girl smacks her gum.
“But I can damn sure tell you this much. No matter what anybody else says…”
“That poor girl.”
“With the black-”
“Blonde-”
“Red hair, just hanging there.”
“Kicking.”
“Without even moving!”
“She was real.” The girl reassures. Hunter and Olive sigh at each other.
“One hundred percent.” The boy nods at Dean vigorously.
“And kinda hot. Well, you know, in a dead sorta way.” The second boy smirks. Everett and Sutton look at each other, eyebrows shot up high.
“And… how’d you find out about this place anyway?” Sam, Sutton, and Olive ask.
“Craig.”
***
“Just stay separate.” Dean snapped at Everett.
“Relax, jackass.” I hissed as we stepped into the shop.
“Fellas.” The guy at the counter looked up. “Can I help you with anything?”
“Yeah, are you Craig Thursten?” Sam asked.
“I am.” He looked hesitant.
“We’re reporters with the Dallas Morning News. I’m Olive, this is Sam and Dean.” I smiled.
“No way.” He looked me up and down, and I cringed.
He was definitely Dean’s age, if not older. I could physically feel Dean struggling not to take a step forward and shove me behind him.
“Well, I’m a writer too. I write for my school’s lit magazine.”
“Well, good for you, Morrissey.” Dean hissed.
The bell rang, and I turned to see the Richmonds walking in.
“Oh, excuse me.” Craig sauntered to the edge of the counter, eyes honing in on Sutton.
Dean pulled me to stand between him and Sam.
“Can I help you with anything?”
“Oh, no, we’re just looking. Thanks.” Hunter forced a smile as Everett glared, moving to stand in front of Sutton.
I smiled. She and Dean were more alike than they realized.
“So, what can I do for you folks?” Craig came back to us, again staring at me.
“Um.” Sam cleared his throat as Dean stepped ever-so-slightly in front of me. “We’re doing an article on local hauntings and rumor has it you might know of one.”
“You mean the Hell House?”
Dean sighed. “That’s the one.”
“I didn’t think there was anything to the story.” Craig chuckled.
“Why don’t you tell us the story?” I tilted my head.
“Well, supposedly back in the thirties, this farmer, Mordechai Murdoch, used to live in this house with his six daughters. It was during the Depression, his crops were failing, he didn’t have enough money to feed his own children. So I guess that’s when he went off the deep end.”
Sam and I glanced at each other, and he turned back to Craig. “How so?”
“Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quickly, rather than starve to death. So he attacked them. They screamed, begged for him to stop, but he just strung them up, one after the other. And when he was all done he just turned around and hung himself. Now they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside.” He eyed me again. “I’d steer clear if I were you, Ol.”
Dean’s nostrils flared and I shook my head. “Don’t call me that.”
“Where’d you hear all this?” Dean all but growled.
“My cousin Dana told me. I don’t know where she heard it from. Ya gotta realize, I… I didn’t believe it for a second.”
“But now you do.”
“I don’t know what the hell to think, man. I, I’ll tell you exactly what I told the police, okay? That girl was real. And she was dead. This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don’t wanna go anywhere near that house ever again, okay?”
Dean nodded, grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me away from Craig. “Thanks.”
Hunter immediately went for me, taking me from Dean and throwing an arm around my shoulders. “What’d he tell you?”
I shivered. “Enough to know that it’s probably just a spirit. Simple salt and burn should work. Just have to find where he’s buried.”
Hunter looked over our shoulders at Craig and sighed. “He better not be caught up in this. And he better never look at you like that again.”
I snorted. “I can take care of myself, ya know.”
“I know.” He looked back at me. “And so does Dean. But just in case.”
***
“Can’t blame him.” Sam scoffed as we walked up the muddy road to the house.
“Yeah, so much for curb appeal.” Dean snorted as Jinx tugged at her leash.
“Got an-”
“Yeah.” Sutton cut Everett off and pulled out an EMF reader.
“Come on, let’s circle the house.” Dean reached out a hand for me.
I giggled and took it, swinging our hands back and forth like a little kid. He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t suppress the smile growing on his face. Jinx yapped, pulling us around the house.
“Don’t laugh at me, kid.”
I giggled again. “Sorry. You’re just… so protective.”
He snorted. “You’re not allowed to turn this into a chick-flick moment.”
I smiled. “I love you too, De.”
He rolled his eyes again, this time with a huge grin on his face. “I love you too, sweetie.”
“Hey, De?” I swung our hands again.
“Yeah, pumpkin?”
“Would you ever do that?”
“Do what?” He furrowed his eyebrows.
I looked up at him with puppy eyes. “Mercy kill me.”
He blinked, shocked. He stopped walking, and I had to stop with him. Jinx practically choked on her leash, confused as to why we weren’t still moving.
“Baby girl, I would never.”
A small smile grew onto my face. “Make me fight it out to the end?”
He grinned. “Yeah. Side by side, wouldn’t give you a choice.”
I squeezed his hand and started walking again. “Thanks, De. I wouldn’t mercy kill you either. Couldn’t stomach it.”
“Anything?” I asked Sam as he held the EMF out.
“Yeah. A little bit.” Sam squatted to scratch Jinx behind the ears.
“They won’t be any good.” Dean sighed.
“Why?” Sam and I looked up at him.
Dean nodded up at the powerlines. “I think that thing’s still got a little juice in it. It’s screwing all the readings.”
“Yeah, that’d do it.” I sighed.
“Yeah. Come on.” Dean tugged me back to the front of the house.
“So what’s the deal here?” Everett asked, arms crossed over her chest.
Sam sighed, and Sutton shrugged at him. Did middle children have a way of communicating with each other or something?
“You guys stay out here, make sure Olive sticks with you. Keep Jinx with you, too. We take Hunter in there and make sure we know what we’re dealing with.” Dean instructed as he walked me over to them, placing me between Everett and Sutton.
I sighed. “I still think this is stupid.” I took Jinx’s leash from Dean’s hand.
Dean smiled at me. “I still don’t care.”
“Alright, you ready?” Sam asked Hunter, hand on his shoulder.
I smiled. Sam was a big teddy bear.
“Yeah, I think so.” Hunter nodded as Dean gave him a rough pat on the back.
“Guys.” I called as they began to trudge up the steps.
All three boys turned back, Dean in attack stance and Sam with big puppy eyes. I ran up the steps and threw my arms around each brother’s waist. Jinx jumped around, pawing at the boys’ legs.
“I love you guys.” I whispered into Dean’s jacket.
They both sighed and hugged back.
“We love you too.”
“Be careful.”
“Always.” Sam kissed the top of my head before I backed away, stepping back down the steps.
“Hey, Winchester.” Everett growled.
Dean rolled his eyes. “What?”
“If my kid brother comes out of there with a single scratch-”
“Yeah, same goes for you. I want my baby back in mint condition.” Dean snarled at her.
Everett snorted. “Can’t give her back in mint condition if she’s already a disaster.” She mumbled.
I rolled my eyes. “Just go.”
The boys headed inside the house, flashlights up. I sat down on the curb with a sigh. Jinx snuggled onto my lap as Sutton sat down next to me.
“You alright?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “Don’t like the idea of my boys going in there without me.”
She nodded. “I know. I wasn’t too sold on Hunter going alone, but I know he’s in good hands with Sam and Dean.”
I snorted. “Look, I love Hunter, but I don’t trust him to keep my brothers safe.”
She nodded again. “I get that, too.
I closed my eyes with a huff. Jinx let out a small bark. A floorboard creaked, and I shot to my feet, confused.
“Olive? What is it?”
Another floorboard, and then a giggle. It wasn’t Sam’s, it wasn’t Hunter’s, and it most definitely was not Dean’s. Something that sounded like an EMF meter went off, and I turned to the house. Jinx started to go crazy, barking like there was no tomorrow. A bark turned into a growl.
“Shit.”
“Olive?” Everett waved her hand in front of my face.
“There’s someone else in there.” I tore past the siblings and up the steps.
“Dean?” I hissed, blinking to adjust to the dark.
They didn’t answer, but the same floorboards creaked. I cursed under my breath and went down the hallway. I heard Jinx howl from outside.
“Olive.” Dean hissed, and it came out like a strangled bark.
“What the-”
“Shh.” I cut them off, holding a hand up.
Something in the next room thumped, and the boys looked at each other wide eyes. Hunter went for my wrist, and I pulled away from him, standing in front of the door with my shoulders squared. Sam and Dean looked at each other, and Dean sighed. He looked at me. I nodded, and so did Hunter. Dean busted through the door, and a bright light hit our eyes.
Danger.
Blood began to drip from my mouth, a drop landing on my shoe. I bared my teeth.
“Oh, cut! It’s just a couple of humans.”
My eyes rolled into the back of my head and I threw my head back with a growling scoff. Dean snorted, looking at me over his shoulder. Two guys were standing in front of us, one holding a camera, and the other holding… an EMF meter?
“What are you guys going here?” The one with the EMF meter asked.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean hissed.
“Uh, we belong here. We’re professionals.” EMF meter laughed.
“Professional what?” I asked through gritted teeth, swallowing blood.
“Paranormal investigators.” EMF shoved business cards into Sam and Hunter’s hands.
He tried to give one to Dean, but my older brother only stared with arched eyebrows. He turned to me, and I shook my head, trying to ignore the blood that had made its way down my chin.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Dean groaned.
“Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spengler?” Sam read off the card.
“Hellhounds Lair dot come.” Hunter sighed. “You guys run that website.”
“Yeah.” EMF grinned.
“Oh, yeah, yeah.” Dean nodded. “We’re big fans.”
I closed my eyes, trying to hold back an annoyed laugh.
“And uh, we know who you guys are too.”
My blood ran cold and St. Louis ran through my head.
Dean.
My mouth began to bleed again, and my eyes began to water.
“Yeah?”
“Amateurs.” EMF scoffed, and I suddenly felt lightheaded.
Dean watched me go pale and came to my side, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I leaned into him with a sigh, and a second stream of blood went down my skin. Dean sighed and wiped at it with the sleeve of his flannel.
“You alright?”
I nodded. He gave my arm a squeeze and gestured to Hunter.
“Keep her standing.” He whispered as he handed me off and turned back to EMF and camera boy.
“Gonna be okay?” Hunter asked in a hushed tone.
I nodded again. “I think so. Just a lot of back and forth.”
“St. Louis?” He asked.
I took a breath, closing my eyes. “Yeah.”
“So if you guys don’t mind, we’re trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here.”
“Yeah, and whatcha got?”
“Harry, why don’t ya tell them about EMF?” Idiot One grinned.
I leaned my head back into Hunter’s shoulder and groaned.
“Well…”
“EMF?”
I smiled, knowing Sam was playing dumb and knowing he was biting back a grin.
“Electromagnetic field? Spectral entities can cause energy fluctuations that can be read with an EMF detector. Like this bad boy right here.” Ed flicked the EMF meter on.
Dean turned to me with a shit-eating grin, and I turned my face into Hunter’s neck, struggling not to snort.
“Whoa, whoa! It’s 2.8 mg!”
“2.8. It’s hot in here.”
Dean let out a low whistle, and Sam mumbled something.
“Huh.” Dean huffed. “So you guys ever really seen a ghost before, or…”
“Once. We were, uh, we were investigating this old house and we saw a vase fall right off the table.”
“By itself.”
“Well, w-w-w-we didn’t actually see it, we heard it. And something like that, it uh… it changes you.”
“Yeah.” Dean nodded, a serious look on his freckled face. “We should go, let them get back to work.” He looked over his shoulder at me.
I nodded, feeling sick.
“Yeah. You should.” Ed snipped.
“Sam. Hunter, Olive.” Dean ushered us out the door.
“Yeah, work!” Ed called after us as we made our way down the hallway.
“Why did you run in?”
“Why didn’t you bring a shotgun?”
“Are you gonna stop bleeding any time soon?”
I giggled at Hunter, but Dean cut me short, grabbing me by the waist and throwing me over his shoulder.
“De!” I squealed, hitting his back.
He dropped me in front of the steps of the house and glared at me.
“Why the hell did you come inside?”
I sighed, shoulders dropping. “I heard something.”
Sutton and Everett ran up, Jinx on their heels. She yapped, jumping at the boys.
“I’m so sorry! We tried to stop her!”
“I told you-”
“Stop.” I cut Dean off as he went for Everett’s throat. “Stop, I ran out.”
“Why?” Dean barked at me.
I shrunk back with a flinch, and Sam pulled him back. Hunter grabbed his sisters and dragged them away. Jinx sat at our feet with a whine.
“I could hear them moving inside the house.” I whispered.
“What?” Sam tilted my head.
“I could hear them. The floorboards, EMF’s giggle. The EMF meter itself. I could hear them from the curb, De.”
He sighed. “Okay.”
Sam sighed too. “Don’t ever do that again.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I was just worried. I wasn’t sure what it was.” I pouted, my head feeling tingly.
They sighed, and Dean brought me into a hug. “I know. It’s okay. Just try to take care of yourself too, baby.”
I nodded, letting my head drop against his chest. “Okay.”
“Go to sleep, Sammy’s got ya.” He gave me a squeeze.
I nodded again. Sam picked me up by the waist and set me on his hip. I yawned and wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Love you.”
Sam chuckled. “Love you too, bug.”
***
“Hey.” Sam sauntered down the steps.
“Hey!” I called Dean as he met us halfway.
“Whatcha got?” He asked.
“Well, we couldn’t find a Mordechai but we did find a Martin Murdoch who lived in that house in the thirties.” Dean let go of Jinx’s leash, and she came running.
“He did have kids, but it was two boys. And there’s no evidence he ever killed anyone.” Sutton finished as Sam picked Jinx up.
“Huh.” Dean huffed.
“What about you?” Hunter asked.
Everett turned back to the cars, and we followed her.
“Well, the kids didn’t really give us a clear description of that dead girl but I did hit up the police station.” Dean sighed.
“No matching missing persons. It’s like she never existed.” Everett shook her head.
“Look guys. We did our digging. This whole thing’s a bust. For all we know, those website freaks made this whole thing up.”
“Yeah, he’s got a point.” Sutton put her hands on her hips.
“Alright. We can split then, I guess.” I shrugged.
Everett grinned. “I’m fine with that. Let’s go!”
“I say we find ourselves a bar and some beers and leave the legend to the locals.” Dean winked.
Sam wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me away from Dean as he made his way to the car. He held Jinx to his chest with the other arm, tucking her under his jacket.
“Wh-”
“Shh.” Sam whispered.
I waved to Hunter and Sutton as Everett started their car. Dean got into the car, and Sam pulled me toward the window with a smile. Dean turned the key, and latino music began to blast. Dean hit the radio, but the wipers began to go off instead. He tore the key out with a jump. Jinx barked, scared.
“What the fuck?”
Sam giggled as he held the door open. I stared with wide eyes as I climbed into the car. Sam licked his finger and marked a ‘one’ in the air before pointing to himself. He got into the car and I inched closer to Dean, still a bit startled. Jinx circled between me and Sam before laying down, and I stared at him. I thought for sure that Sam knew better than to mess with Dean’s car.
“That’s all you’ve got?” Dean gave him a dirty look. “Weak. That is bush league.”
I curled my arms around one of Dean’s.
“Can we go home now?”
He smiled down at me. “Of course we can, sweetpea.”
***
“Hello?” I asked as I flicked my phone open.
Sam and Dean had left me sleeping in the motel room while they went to a diner to pick up dinner. Jinx was asleep at the feet of Sam’s bed. She loved him the most.
“Olive, have the Richmonds left town yet?”
“No. I just got off the phone with Hunter. Everett is asleep and Sutton went out to get them dinner. I thought maybe you guys would run into her.”
“Well, we haven’t. Look, call him back. We missed something. We’ll call Sutton, tell her to meet us back at the Hell House.”
“Okay… De, what happened?”
He sighed. “A girl’s dead.”
“For real?”
“Yeah. We saw her. It was real.”
I sighed again. “Does this mean I’ll have to hold onto your belt loop the whole time?”
He snorted. “You bet your ass it does.”
I scoffed. “Okay. Love you guys. Be careful.”
“Always. You too. Love you.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.” Dean made an obnoxious kissing noise before hanging up.
I sighed as I dialed Hunter’s number again. I put the phone between my ear and shoulder as I got off the bed.
“Hey.”
“Hey, Hunt.” I sighed and dug through our communal bag.
I had already changed into my pj’s and shoved my clothing into the duffel.
“What’s up?”
“Look, Sam and Dean said we must’ve missed something. Dean wants you guys to meet us at the Hell House.”
Hunter sighed. “What happened?”
“A girl’s dead, and he sounded agitated.” I put him on speaker and tossed the phone aside.
“Alright. Everett is still out, she’s probably hungover. But I’ll wake her up and make sure she gets ready.”
“Make sure she doesn’t cut your head off.” I tugged off Dad’s old sweater and yanked on a black shirt.
“Haha, very funny. Are those website guys still suspects?”
I pulled on leggings and snorted. “I kinda hope so. I’d love nothing more than to cut EMF freak in two.”
“I still can’t believe you barged right in there without a gun. I’m surprised Dean didn’t shoot you on the spot.”
“Oh, shove it.” I laced my boots up. “Dean loves me. Would never shoot me.”
He snorted this time. “Yeah. Right, sure. Alright, I’ll let you go. I’ve gotta wake Everett up.”
I giggled. “Good luck. See ya.”
“Bye, Ol.”
***
I shushed Hunter as we crouched in the bushes.
“I guess the cops don’t want anyone else screwing around in there.” Sam whispered.
There was a cop car parked on the curb, and they were standing around the porch.
“Yeah, but we still gotta get in there.” Dean sighed.
Somebody else whispered, and I turned to glare at Everett. She wasn’t talking. I looked around, slowly edging out of our hiding spot. Jinx would’ve barked, so we left her at the motel. Lucky for us, she was still sleeping when Sam and Dean picked me up.
“I don’t fucking believe it.” Hunter growled.
“What?” I looked at him, and he helped me move forward without being seen.
The two idiots from earlier. Hunched over, wearing stupid gadgets, whispering and shushing each other. I inhaled to let out a snort, and a hand clapped over my mouth. I looked down to see that it was Dean’s hand, and I licked him. He flinched, pulling me back to sit.
“Ohh, De.” I turned to him with a huge smile. “I got an idea.”
He smiled. “Go ahead.”
I shuffled to rest on my knees. I cleared my throat before cupping my hands to my mouth.
“Who ya gonna call!”
Idiot One and Idiot Two stumbled, confused. The cops spotted them, and began shouting orders. The idiots ran back the way they came, and the cops followed.
Everett chuckled. “Nice move, Winchester.”
I grinned as Sam pulled me onto my feet. We followed Dean up the sidewalk and into the house. We were laughing, and I let out a snort.
“Alright, alright.” Sam tried to quiet us down.
“Everyone settle.” Sutton smiled.
“Okay.” Sam swung the duffel bag off his shoulder and onto the floor. “Olive.” He handed out rifles as he did a head count.
Dean was next to get a rifle, then Sutton. Hunter, and Everett last.
“Where have I seen this before?” Dean shone his flashlight at the walls. “It’s killing me.”
“Alright, come on. We don’t have much time.” Sam called.
He led the way down to the basement. Him first, then Dean, and me, of course, stuck behind Dean. Hunter, then Sutton, and then Everett.
“Oh, look at that. That’s funky.” Hunter pointed at a shelf full of jars.
“Oh, nice.” I strayed from the group and went straight for them.
Dean followed, picking up a red one. He sloshed it around and turned with a grin.
“Hey, Sam. I dare you to take a swig of this.”
“What the hell would I do that for?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.
I grinned up at Dean, and he mirrored it.
“I double dare you.”
Sam shook his head with a snort. I looked through the jars, seeing one that looked like it had an eyeball in it. I pushed it away with a groan of disgust. Hunter laughed from beside me, and something thumped in the cabinet in the corner. Hunter stood in front of me and clutched his rifle. Sutton positioned herself behind Sam, and Everett behind Dean. Dean and Sutton’s rifles went up as Everett’s flashlight turned on. Hunter squared his shoulders and glanced at me. I stood on my toes, resting my head against his shoulder. Dean nodded, and Sam yanked the door open.
A few rats squeaked and ran away from the light. Dean groaned and lifted his feet.
“I hate rats.”
“What, you’d rather it was a ghost?” I giggled.
“Yes, actually.” Dean squinted at me.
I dug my fingers into Hunter’s arm as a figure appeared behind Sam.
“Ev!”
“Sams!”
The four older hunters turned around. I shoved Hunter out of the way and cocked my rifle. Mordechai rose an axe above his head, aiming at Sam.
“Duck.” I ordered before taking my shot.
Nothing happened, and I shot him again. Someone else shot at him, and he finally misted away.
“What the fucking hell?” I hissed, running to Dean.
He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and looked around.
“What kind of spirit is immune to rock salt?” Sam asked as we moved.
Dean and I ducked behind the shelves of jars, confused. I looked around, trying to figure out what was going on.
“I dunno, but we should get outta here right now.” Everett grabbed Hunter by the wrist and yanked him toward the door.
Mordechai came back, and his axe came down on the shelves. The jars shattered at our feet, and one hit my head.
I crawled out from under the metal as the Richmonds pulled the shelf up.
“Fuck.” I hissed, hand going to the back of my head.
“Go!” Sam shouted as he took on Mordechai. “Get out of here!”
“Hey, cunt!” I screamed, waving my arms and aiming my rifle.
Mordechai turned to me, and I felt my chest clench. He swung at me, and I ducked and rolled. Sam plucked me off the ground as the axe slammed an electrical box. Sparks flew everywhere, and Sam tossed me over his shoulder.
Everett led the way up the stairs, and Sam and I brought up the rear. I yelped as we ran through the hall and out onto the porch. Sutton fell first, and it was a domino effect. I ended up on top of Sam, legs caught under Hunter.
“Ow!” I howled.
My arm cracked as I shifted, and I felt my bones throb.
“Go, go, go!” Sam shouted, trying to untangle himself from the mess.
Hunter rolled off of us and helped me to my feet. I yanked at Sam, then at Dean. Dean grabbed my arm, and I yanked away with a yelp. Idiot One and Idiot Two were standing there, camera on us.
“Get that fucking thing outta my face.” Dean smacked them away.
“Go, go, go!” Sam shouted.
“Sweet Lord!”
“Of the rings! Run! Go!”
“Come on.” Hunter grabbed my hand and yanked me along with him.
***
“Hey, baby girl.” Dean shot up from the bed as I opened the door.
“Hi, Deano.” I smiled.
“How you feeling?” Sam looked up from his laptop.
I shrugged a shoulder. “Fine. Hurting, but fine.”
Sutton sat down next to Sam as Everett shut the door. “She’s gotta take these for the pain, and the cast has to be changed in a month, maybe two. You’re gonna have to be on top of her doctor’s appointments, because Dean’ll forget.”
“Hey!” Dean scoffed. “I would never forget about my baby’s health.” He turned to me. “C’mere.”
I sat down next to him with a huff. Jinx padded over to my side and gave me sad eyes.
“My arm is itchy.”
He laughed. “Sorry, Babes.”
“Can you sign it?” I looked up at him with puppy eyes.
He smiled and nodded. I pulled out a sharpie and handed it to him. He threaded his fingers through mine and signed his name onto the plaster.
Dean Michael Winchester, written in ugly, scratchy handwriting. Below that, Olive, my baby. I love you so much. Sorry your arm broke 🖤🖤
“So, what’ve we got?” Hunter asked, sitting on the couch.
“Not much.” Sam scratched the back of his neck. “Haven’t really started.”
Everett scoffed, and Sutton shot her a look.
“We were worried about Olive!” Sam defended himself.
“What the hell is this symbol?” Dean groaned, picking up a pad of paper from his side. “It’s buggin’ the hell out of me. This whole damn job’s buggin’ me. I thought the legend said Mordechai only goes after chicks.”
“It does.” Sam snorted.
I pulled out my laptop and started it up. I stood and stretched, groaning at the dull pain in my arm.
“Alright. Well, I mean that explains why he went after Olive, and you. But why me?” Dean leaned back.
“Hilarious.” Sam rolled his eyes. “The legend also says he hung himself but did you see those wrists?”
“Yeah.”
“What about them?” I asked as I got onto the Idiot2 website.
“They were slit.” Sam threw his head back with a groan.
“That doesn’t make sense.” I scrunched my nose up and settled next to Hunter.
“The axe doesn’t either, actually.” He noted, throwing an arm over my shoulders.
“I mean, ghosts are usually pretty strict, right? Following the same patterns over and over again.” Sam sighed.
I made a grabby hand at him, and he moved to sit on my other side.
“But this mook keeps changing.” Dean scoffed.
I got onto the and refreshed the page on Mordechai Murdoch. “Okay, the story definitely said… wait a minute.” I blinked. “What the fuck?” I asked, turning my laptop to Sam.
“What?”
“Read.” I pointed.
Dean looked up at me with an eyebrow raised.
“Someone added a new post to their site. Read it out loud, Sams.
“They say Mordechai Murdoch was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an axe before slitting his own wrists. Now he’s imprisoned in the house for eternity.” Sam squinted.
“What the hell?” Everett tilted her head.
“I don’t know. But I think I might’ve just figured out where it all started.” Dean tossed aside the pad of paper.
***
“Hey, Craig. Remember us?” Dean asked as we sauntered into the shop.
He looked up with a sigh. He looked depressed. The Richmonds followed us in.
“Guys, look. I’m not really in the mood to answer any of your questions, okay?”
“Oh, don’t worry.” Dean waved him off. “We’re just here to buy an album, that’s all.”
He flicked through a stack and picked one out. I eyed it and looked up at him with a smile.
He was a genius.
He slung an arm around my shoulders and walked us toward the counter. “You know, I couldn’t quite figure out what the symbol was, and then I realized that it didn’t mean anything. It’s the Blue Öyster Cult logo.” He turned to Craig. “Tell me, Craig. You uh, you into BOC? Or just scaring the hell outta people?”
“Why don’t you tell us about the house again?” I narrowed my eyes.
“Without lying through your ass this time.” Dean pulled a bitchface.
Craig sighed. “Alright, uh… my cousin Dana was on break from TCU. We were just bored, looking for something to do…” He sighed. “So I showed her this abandoned dump I found. We thought it would be cool to make it look like it was haunted.”
Hunter snorted from behind me.
“So we painted symbols on the walls, some from albums, from Dana’s theology textbooks. Then we found out this guy Murdoch used to live there, so we… we made up some story to go along with that. So we told people, who told other people. And then these two guys put it on their stupid website. Everything just took on a life of its own.”
Sutton squinted, and Everett mumbled something to her.
“I mean, I thought it was fun at first, but… now that girl is dead, and… it was just a joke! Ya know, I mean… none of it was real. We made this whole thing up. I swear!”
“Alright.” Sam spoke softly.
“Okay.” Everett pulled Sutton and Hunter along.
I sighed and looked up at Sam. “If none of it was real, how the hell do you explain Mordechai?”
Sam looked at me and shook his head. “I dunno.”
***
“Wake up, pumpkin.” Dean’s voice broke me out of my sleep as he rested a hand on my hip.
I groaned as I rolled over onto my back. “What?”
“Hey, I’m back.” He called out to Sam, who was in the shower.
“Hey, where were you?” Sam asked as the water turned off.
“Picking up orange juice for Ollie.” Dean winked at me as he sat down next to me.
I yawned as I sat up. I smiled at him and threw my arm around his neck. He laughed and hugged me back, pressing a kiss to my head.
“Thanks, De. I fucking love orange juice.”
He chuckled. “I know.”
“So Ollie might have a theory about what’s going on.” Sam called out.
“Yeah?”
“She still asleep?”
“Just woke her up.” Dean brushed my hair back.
“Yeah, what is Mordechai is a Tulpa?” I asked.
“Tulpa?” Dean repeated.
The door opened and Sam came out, hair dripping wet and a towel around his waist. I closed my eyes with a scowl on my face. Dean turned too, a bit grossed out. Jinx tilted her head at us, and I giggled. She was like a little human, only confused all the time.
“Put on some clothes.”
Sam picked up a pillow and threw it at me. It hit my juice and I pouted as it spilled over.
“Dean!” I whined, throwing my head back against the wall.
He took the cup and grabbed a few tissues, wiping the juice off my hand. “Sorry, Babes. Sam, don’t be a dick.”
“Just… Tulpa.” I hissed at Sam.
“Yeah, a Tibetan thought form.”
“Ah, yeah, I know what a Tulpa is. Hey Sam, why don’t you get dressed. I wanna grab something to eat. I gotta take a leak.”
I laid back down and pulled the blanket over my head. “Wake me up when we’re ready to go.”
***
“There you go.” The server put six coffees on the counter.
“Thank you.” Dean and I smiled as we took the cups and walked back to Sam and the Richmonds.
Sam was grimacing and trying to fix his pants. I cringed, and Dean eyed him.
“Dude, what’s your problem?”
“Nothing, I’m fine.” Sam brushed him off.
“You sure?” I asked as I sat down next to him.
“Yeah.”
“Alright, keep going.” Dean took a seat. “So, these Tulpas?”
Sutton looked up and sighed. She took her coffee and yawned. Hunter leaned forward on his elbows and yawned. Everett put her head in her hands.
“Okay, so there was this incident in Tibet in 1915. Group of monks visualized a golem in their head. They meditated on it so hard they brought the thing to life. Outta thin air.” Sam glanced at his computer.
“So?” Everett raised an eyebrow.
“That was twenty monks. Imagine what ten thousand web surfers could do.” Sutton scowled at her sister.
“She’s right. Craig starts the story about Mordechai, then it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people all believing in the bastard.”
“Okay, wait a second. Are you trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai, he’s real?” Dean’s nose scrunched up.
“I dunno, maybe.” Sam shuffled again.
“People believe in Santa Claus… how come we aren’t getting hooked up every Christmas?”
“Because, Dean, you’re a horrible person. And because of this.” Sutton turned Sam’s laptop toward us.
One of the symbols from the Hell House was on his screen.
“Lemme guess, that’s the Tibetan spirit sigil?” Hunter asked.
“On the wall of the house?” I added.
“Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet they painted this, not even knowing what it was. Now that sigil has been used for centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass.”
“So people are on the Hellhounds website, staring at the symbol, thinking about Mordechai… might be enough to bring a Tulpa to life.” I shrugged.
“Would explain why he keeps changing.” Dean sighed.
Sam shuffled again. “Right, as the legend changes, people think different things. So Mordechai changes.”
“Like a game of telephone.”
“That would also explain why the rock salt didn’t work.” I sighed.
“Because he’s not a traditional spirit.” Dean frowned.
“Yeah.” Sam fidgeted again.
“Okay. So why can’t we just, uh…” Everett pinched the bridge of her nose. “Get this spirit sigil thing off the wall and off the website?”
“Well, it’s not that simple.” Sutton shook her head. “You see, once Tulpas are created they take on a life of their own.”
“Great. So if he really is a thought form…” Dean scowled. “How the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?”
Sam began to move again.. “Well it’s not gonna be easy with these guys helping us. Check out their homepage.” He nodded toward Sutton.
Sutton hit something on his laptop and a video started to play. I groaned. It was the footage from last night. The Richmonds crashed down the stairs, followed by a crumbling Dean, and Sam. Me, crashing to the ground, Hunter over my feet, me shouting as my arm snapped.
“Since they’ve posted the video, their number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone.”
I tensed. “De, if anyone recognizes you…” I sighed. “We’re screwed.”
“Hmph.” Dean’s lip curled up. “I got an idea. Come on.”
“Where are we going?” Sutton asked as Dean stood.
“We gotta find a CopyJack.”
I got off my stool with a yawn. Hunter followed, and Sam wiggled as he got to his feet. He grumbled something to Dean, and Dean only laughed. Sutton and Everett looked over their shoulders, confused.
“You did this?” Sam asked.
Dean only laughed harder.
“You’re a fucking jerk.” Sam hissed at him.
“Oh, yeah.” Dean grinned.
I rolled my eyes. Sam and Dean went for me at the same time, and I ducked away, pacing myself with Hunter. Sam blinked sadly, and Dean stuck his tongue out at me. I stuck mine out back.
“Brat.”
“Prick.”
***
Dean pounded his fist on the door of the trailer.
“Who is it?” Idiot Two asked.
“Come on out, guys. We can hear you in there.”
Jinx let out a little growl, and I bit back a smile.
“It’s them!”
The door opened and they stuck their heads out.
“Ah, would you look at that. Action figures in their original packaging. What a shock.” Dean snorted.
“Guys, we need to talk.” Sam sighed.
“Yeah, um… sorry guys. We’re ahh, a little busy right now.” Idiot One shuffled.
I slammed my hand against the door as he tried to shut it. “Okay, well we’ll make it quick. You need to shut down the website.”
“Man, you know, these guys got us busted last night, spent the night in a holding cell…” He laughed.
“I had to pee in that cell urinal. In front of people! And I get stage fright.”
“Why should we trust you guys?”
“Look, guys. We all know what we saw last night, what’s in the house.” Everett crossed her arms over her chest.
“But now thanks to your website there are thousands of people hearing about Mordechai.” Sutton rested all her weight on one hip.
“That’s right, which means people are gonna keep showing up at the Hell House, running into him in person.” Hunter dead-panned.
“Somebody could get hurt.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Ed, maybe he’s got a point. Maybe…”
“Nope.” Idiot One shook his head. “We have an obligation to our fans, to the truth.”
“Well I have an obligation to kick both your little asses right now-”
“Ev, Ev, hey, hey, hey, just forget it, alright.” Sutton pulled her back. “These guys…” She sighed dramatically. “Probably bitch slap them both, we could even tell them that thing about Mordechai, but they’re still not gonna help us.”
“Sutton’s right. Let’s just go.” I sighed, readjusting my grip on Jinx’s leash.
“Yeah, he’s right.” Dean sighed as we began to walk away.
“What’d you say about…”
“Hang on a second here.”
“What thing about Mordechai?”
“Don’t tell em, Sutton.” Hunter begged.
“But if they agree to shut down the website, guys…” Sutton trailed off.
“They’re not gonna do it, you said so yourself.” Dean sighed.
“No, wait. Wait. Don’t listen to him, okay? We’ll do it. We’ll do it.” Idiot One stepped out of the trailer.
“Look, it’s a really big deal, alright? And it wasn't easy to dig up. So only if we have your word that you’ll shut it all down.” Sutton leaned in.
“Totally.”
“Alright.” Sutton nodded at Dean.
He pulled a few papers from his jacket.
“It’s a death certificate. From the thirties. We got it at the library. Now, according to the coroner, the actual cause of death was a self-inflicted gunshot wound.”
“That’s right. He didn’t hang or cut himself.” Dean added.
“He shot himself?”
“Yep.” Sam nodded. “With a .45 pistol. To this day they say he’s terrified of them.”
“Matter of fact, they say if you shoot him with a .45, loaded with these special wrought-iron rounds-”
“It’ll kill the son of a bitch.” Dean cut me off.
Idiot One snatched the paper, and Idiot Two smiled.
“Alright, we should head out.” Hunter grabbed me by the wrist and tugged me away.
Sam and Dean followed. Everett spat on the step of the trailer, and Sutton smacked the back of her head before walking away.
***
Hunter: be safe. sorry we had to abandon you guys
I smiled as I typed back a response.
Olive: we always do great without you guys anyways. just don’t get yourself killed
Hunter: will do
The Richmonds had left town. A case that seemed like werewolves had popped up in Oklahoma, and we were the closest hunters around. Dean was determined to take Mordechai down, so Everett decided they’d peel out. I yawned as I leaned against Dean. He wrapped an arm around me as he reached up. I watched as he pulled the cord on a mechanical fisherman holding a large fish. The fisherman’s mouth moved and an obnoxious laugh played. Sam yanked on the cord, and the laugh stopped.
“If you pull that string one more time I’m gonna kill you.” Sam promised.
We had been sitting in the cafe for the last two hours, and Dean had pulled the cord so many times that I would have nightmares about the laugh. Dean blinked, deadpan. He maintained eye contact with Sam as he pulled the cord again. Sam’s hand immediately went back up and he stopped it. He glared at Dean. I yawned again, this time snuggling further into Dean’s side. I wanted to go back to the motel, take Jinx for her nightly walk, and go to bed.
Dean snickered. “Come on, man. You need some more laughter in your life. You know, you’re way too tense.”
Sam only gave Dean another dirty look. Dean sighed, and I huffed.
“They post it yet?”
Sam spun his laptop around to us and began to stab at his salad, angry.
“We’ve learned from reputable sources that Mordechai Murdoch has a fatal fear of firearms.” Dean read off the scream.
“Alright, so how long do we wait?” I asked.
“Long enough for the story to spread and the legend to change.” Sam spoke with a hand over his mouth. “I figure by nightfall iron rounds will work on the sucker.” Sam swallowed and reached for his beer.
I grinned and grabbed my glass of juice. Dean lifted his own and the three of us tapped our drinks together.
“Sweet.” Dean grinned before taking a long chug.
A smirk grew on Sam’s face and I shrunk into Dean’s side. He was up to something. Dean put his bottle down, but it stuck to his palm. My eyes widened as Sam broke into a cackle and Dean stared at his bottle, confused.
He looked up at Sam. “You didn’t.”
Sam laughed harder and held up a bottle of super glue. “Oh, I did!”
Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Bitch.”
“Jerk.” Sam wheezed.
“Oh my god, you’re both fucking pricks!” I hissed, pulling away from Dean. “Why do you always have to go so far?”
“Why are you mad at me?”
“Because now I’ll have to rip that bottle off of his hand!” I groaned.
“Ollie, it’s okay.” Dean held his other hand out.
I scowled, smacking it away. “Get up. There’s some acetone in the car.”
Dean sighed. “Okay.”
***
“Okay, come on.” Dean shut the trunk and led us up the porch steps.
He cleared his throat, and I put my back to his. I was left without a flashlight. A gun with one hand was risky, but I was a good shot, and Dean wanted me to be able to protect myself. We started with the hallway. Dean readjusted his gun with a hiss.
“I barely have any skin left on my palm.” He groaned.
“I’m not touching that line with a ten foot pole.” Sam snipped back.
Dean stopped us in our tracks and shone his light in Sam’s face. Sam winced and turned away. Dean, satisfied, moved into another room.
“So. You think old Mordechai’s home?” He whispered.
“I dunno.”
“Me either.”
The three of us jumped, guns pointing at the noise. I scowled. Idiot One and Idiot Two.
“You fuckers.” I growled.
“What are you trying to do, get yourself killed?” Sam hissed.
“We’re just trying to get a book and movie deal, okay?” Idiot One whined.
A sound like knives being sharpened came from the basement, and I cringed as I readjusted my grip on my gun.
“Oh, crap.”
Sam and Dean shot them identical looks as they crowded us, camera on.
“Ah… you guys, you wanna… you wanna open that door for us?” Idiot One asked.
“Why don’t you?” Dean spat over his shoulder.
Mordechai burst through the door with the same axe from before. He let out an other-wordly shout, and I shot first. Sam and Dean shot over my shoulders, shooting until they were out of rounds. Mordechai stared at us, and then disappeared again. My chest clenched as we waited. He was gone. Dean stood in front of me and nodded for us to follow him into the next room
There was a thud in the next room, and my phone began to buzz in my pocket. I flicked it open, seeing that it was Hunter.
“What?” I hissed as Sam put his back to mine and Dean ran back to the idiots.
“Their server crashed.”
“What?” I repeated.
“Their server crashed! Nobody got the story. Guns won’t do shit! You guys gotta get outta there!”
I blinked, then grabbed Sam.
“Dean!” I shouted. “Guns won’t work!”
“Great.” He growled as we ran back into the room.
“Any ideas?” I asked Sam.
“We are getting outta here.” One of the idiots grabbed the other as they broke into a run.
They pushed past Dean into the other room. We paused as they screamed. They ran back to the front, trying to get the door open.
“Jesus Mary and Joseph!”
Mordechai came after them, and Idiot One began to scream.
“Hey!” Sam called. “Come and get it, you ugly son of a bitch!”
Mordechai attacked Sam, pinning his axe against his neck.
“Get out of here, now!” He ordered.
Danger.
“Sammy!”
“Come on!” Dean grabbed me by the hand and yanked me along. “We gotta burn the place down!”
“But Sam!”
“Ol-”
“Sammy.” I whined.
“Ollie.” Dean grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. “Sam’s in danger, you’re scared.”
I nodded. “Sam.”
“Use that. Get that door open, get to the car, get kerosene.”
I shut my eyes and heard Sam yelp. My teeth began to ache, and I spit blood out. Dean turned me by the shoulders and gave me a squeeze. I let out a grunt as I kicked the door. It didn’t move. Sam yelled again, and I let out a scream as I went at it with my shoulder. It splintered off its hinges.
Jinx was going mad in the backseat of the car, circling and barking and growling. She saw me coming and stuck her head out the window, letting out a howl.
I went for the car, was careful to flip open the trunk, and yanked out the gallon of kerosene. I ran back into the house, and Dean took the container away from me, pouring it on every possible surface. My mouth was throbbing, and I heard Sam from the next room.
“Dean! Olive!”
“Hey!”
I turned to see the Richmonds running up the steps, spray cans in hand. Hunter tossed me one. I grunted as I tore off my sling and went through my pockets. I flicked on my lighter, letting the flame catch. I threw the can onto the floor and went for Sam. A growl ripped through my throat, and Mordechai disappeared. Sam fell.
“Come on!” I pulled him off the floor.
Dean helped me get him to his feet. Sam grabbed his throat and coughed.
“What are we doing?”
“Improvising.” Sutton grabbed Sam’s arm and tugged it over her shoulders.
Everett flicked her lighter on and threw it into the other room. Flames went up, and Sutton helped Dean yank Sam out of the house. I hissed as someone bumped into my arm. Hunter dragged me out of the house, and Everett was the last to follow us out.
“This is your solution? Burn the whole damn place to the ground?” She scowled at Dean.
“Well nobody will go in anymore. I mean, look. Mordechai can’t haunt a house if there’s no house to haunt.” He huffed. “It’s fast and dirty but it works.”
I sat down on the front lawn and groaned, holding my arm. Hunter took his flannel off and fashioned a sling out of it. I was too tired to try and stop him.
“What if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?”
“Well…” Dean sighed.
“Then we’ll just have to come back.” I spoke through a mouthful of blood.
Sam plucked me off the ground and set me on his hip with a sigh. I hissed, spitting over his shoulder.
“Kinda makes you wonder. Of all the things we hunted, how many existed just ‘cause people believed in them. Right, bug?” Sam asked.
I nodded. Dean helped me control it inside. Pushing me in the right direction, telling me what to do. It helped. Sam would keep me awake afterwards. It was draining, and I was so tired, but I needed to be ready for the day my brothers wouldn’t be there to carry me to the car right afterwards.
“You guys came back.” I whispered, staring at Hunter.
He smiled, and Sutton sighed. Everett only rolled her eyes.
“You guys would’ve done the same for us.”
Dean snorted as he pulled out the car keys. “Like hell we would’ve.”
I sniffled. “Can we go now? My arm hurts.”
Sam grinned as he gave me a squeeze. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
***
“Why are we here?” I asked with a yawn.
Jinx circled at Sam’s feet before finally laying down in the shade of the picnic table. Dean grinned as Idiot One and Idiot Two came along with arms full of grocery bags.
“Gentlemen. Lady.” Idiot One nodded his head at us.
“Hey, guys.” Sam smiled.
I couldn’t help but grin. He was so polite. Such a sweetheart. A big teddy bear. I blinked. My pain meds were making me loopy.
“Should we tell them?”
“Hey, might as well. You know, they’re gonna read about it in the trades.” Idiot One scoffed.
“So this morning, we got a phone call from a very important Hollywood producer.”
I smiled, leaning into Dean’s side. “Oh yeah, wrong number?”
“No, smart-ass. He read all about the Hell House on our website and wants to option the motion picture rights. Maybe even have us write it.” Idiot One spoke as they loaded the groceries into their car.
“And create the RPG.”
Dean blinked. “The what?”
“Role playing game.”
“Right.” Dean nodded, lips pursed.
“A little lingo for you.”
“Anyhoo, excuse us. We’re off to lala land.”
“Well, congratulations guys. That sounds really great.” Sam smiled.
“Yeah. That’s awesome, best of luck to you.”
“Oh, yeah. Luck. That has nothing to do with it. It’s about talent. Sheer, unabashed talent.”
We looked around at each other and nodded. Idiot One threw up a peace sign.
“Later.”
They got into their car and drove off.
“I have a confession to make.” Sam turned to me with a huge grin.
“What’s that?” Dean turned with a smile.
“I uh… I was the one that called them and told them I was a producer.” He scratched the back of his neck.
I giggled, and Dean threw an arm around my shoulder. “Yeah.” He laughed. “Well, I’m the one who put the dead fish in their backseat.”
I giggled again, and the boys broke into laughter.
“Hey, boys?” I looked up.
“Yeah, bug?”
“What is it, baby?”
I gave them puppy eyes. “Truce? Please?”
They sighed and looked at each other. Sam shrugged, and Dean nodded.
“Yeah, truce.”
“Truce.” Sam smiled.
“At least for the next hundred miles.” Dean winked as he got up.
“Let’s go home.”
Previous Ep: Shadow (1.16)
Next Ep: Something Wicked (1.18)
#supernatural cast#supernatural season one#supernatural fic#supernatural oc#dean winchester#sam wichester#supernatural#olive winchester#my posts#dean and sam#sam and dean#sam winchester x sister!reader#dean winchester x sister!reader#dean x sister!reader#sam x sister!reader#sam x sister!oc#sam winchester x sister!oc#dean x sister!oc#dean winchester x sister!oc#john winchester#john winchester x daughter!reader#john winchester x daughter!oc#jensen ackles#jared padalecki#jeffery dean morgan#winchester#winchester sister#winchester sibling#micwrites
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The Before, and The After Part 2
A Knives Out Story
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Language, Sexual Content (18+ to be safe, but it’s still mild here)
Summery: A wealthy classmate of Meg’s becomes close to the family, a little too close to the playboy grandson of Harlan Thrombey. The events leading up to, and following, Harlan Thrombey’s death.
It was cool outside the day of Harlan Thrombey’s funeral. Elizabeth scrolled through her news feed, reading all the articles about Harlan’s death. “I just can’t believe he’s gone.”
“I know.” Elizabeth’s husband Phil murmured, reaching over and taking her hand. He pulled it to his lips and kissed it, taking his eyes off the road to gaze at his wife, “When was the last time you spoke to him?”
“When we were there last month for Linda and Richard’s anniversary party.” Elizabeth whispered, looking out the window as she tried not to cry, “He didn’t really want to talk to me, though. Things were never the same after his birthday last year.” Elizabeth mumbled, brushing her fiery hair back over her head into the messy bun at the nape of her neck. “Maybe if we had patched things up we could have been at this last one.”
Elizabeth felt her grief wash over her, knowing Phil would never fully understand why she was so broken over Harlan’s death. She’d always wonder, if she was around the night of his eighty-fifth birthday, could she have convinced him not to do it? To not end his own life and leave his poor family in ruins.
“We’ll be there for his family now. They’ll appreciate it.”
“Also, can we talk about how your father suggested I talk to the cops about Harlan’s death? What the hell gave him that idea?” Elizabeth turned to Phillip and he just shrugged as he parked their Mercedes Benz into the cemetery parking lot.
Philip quickly exited the car and came around to open Elizabeth’s door, holding out his hand to help his pregnant wife out of the car. The pregnancy was new, they’d only known about a month and were keeping it under wraps. There was no need to draw attention to their future at a funeral.
She smoothed down the black dress she wore, hitting mid-calf and hanging loosely over her slim stomach. If there had been any bump to show, Elizabeth had hidden it with the loose, simple frock. She didn’t want any attention. She just wanted to come in and pay her respects to her idol and friend.
Elizabeth kept her head down as her husband escorted her toward the group gathered in front of an intricate mausoleum. She clipped in a black fascinator and veil to cover her face, wanting to shrink into the background as Linda Drysdale took her place in front of the crowd to speak, but Elizabeth didn’t hear her speech.
She scanned the crowd with her bright emerald eyes in a daze, feeling her head begin to swim. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, leaning against her husband as her legs began to quiver.
“Are you okay?” Phil whispered in her ear, and she nodded.
“I’m fine. It’s just a lot.”
“We won’t stay long.” Phil told her as he squeezed her arm, then noticed his dad walking toward them after Linda finished speaking.
“Hello, how are you two?” Alan Stevens pulled his son into a hug before turning to his daughter-in-law, “How’s my grandson?”
Elizabeth blinked rapidly, swaying her head back and forth. She could have sworn she’d heard Harlan’s voice, “What?”
“I said how is my grandchild?” Alan repeated, looking to his son nervously, “I’m going to speak with the family, set up a time for the will reading. You two will come over for dinner this evening?”
“We wouldn’t miss it. She just wants to check on Meg before we head out.” Phil explained, but Elizabeth didn’t confirm or deny this. She just stumbled over a step away from her husband and looked back toward the casket in front of the mausoleum.
The world felt like it was spinning by the time she reached it, but Elizabeth pressed her hand to the casket, finally allowing herself to cry, “I’m so sorry I let you down.”
Lizzie leaned into the cushions of Harlan’s vintage couch as she nursed her beer. She’d pulled her hair up into a high pony tail as afternoon turned to evening and the Thrombey family had gotten louder and more opinionated.
She eyed Meg as her friend snuck a drink of her mother’s wine, a warning that a safe drive home wasn’t on the horizon- for anyone in the family.
“All I’m saying is, if we don’t clean up our act, we’re going to have to leave Earth. Our actual planet won’t be inhabitable anymore, global warming is not that controversial.” Joni stumbled forward a step when she realized her wine glass was empty, “I’m getting another glass, Liz- you want another-”
“No thank you. I’m fine.” Lizzie answered sweetly, swishing around the half-full bottle.
“Mom, we’re probably going to stay the night, let me have one glass!” Meg slurred, which only set off Richard more than Joni’s global warming talk had.
“Joni, you can’t be serious, she’s eighteen. She’s already been drinking all your alcohol, she’s not legal!” Richard called as Joni reappeared with a sloppy grin and a glass of wine in each hand. Richard rolled his eyes and turned to his wife, “Linda, are you fucking kidding me with this bullshit?”
“It’s her daughter, she can do what she wants.” Linda answered and Richard stared at Joni with pure shock as she handed her daughter the glass.
Walt looked over at his young son’s phone, then grabbed it harshly and handed it to his wife, “Jacob, I swear, if I catch you on that site again-”
“You liberal hippies and your free-spirited parenting techniques! You’re the reason this country has so many drug addicts, nobody understands the repercussions of their actions!” Richard yelled back at Joni, but she just swayed to whatever music played in her head, causing Elizabeth to bite her lip to hold back her laughter.
Harlan had bid them goodbye an hour ago, retreating to his room with his nurse to get some rest while his family continued on with their partying. The smell of cigar smoke was thick in the air, mingling with the burning of the fireplace just outside the sitting room. Meg had long discarded her shoes and jacket, and Lizzie began to realize it would be smart for her to do the same. She wasn’t getting back to Amherst tonight.
Lizzie cleared her throat, getting the attention of Walt’s wife Donna nearby, “I need to use the restroom? Great Nana seems to have taken up residence in the downstairs one.”
“Oh! I’ll go check on her. Go up the stairs, down the hall, you’ll find it on the left.” Donna tried to stand, then quickly fell back down into her chair. “I’ll get to Great Nana in a few minutes.”
“Take your time, I’m sure she’s fine.” Lizzie answered, having noticed Great Nana peak out of the restroom every twenty to thirty minutes to make sure everyone was still there. She wasn’t sick, she was hiding.
Lizzie couldn’t blame her.
She followed Donna’s directions up the twisted staircase, taking her time to examine Harlan’s framed posters on the walls on her way up. When she reached the second floor of the dark mansion, she bent down and pulled off her heels so she could walk barefoot along the rug.
Looking down over the banister, she could hear the family’s arguing intensifying and began to question if they’d even realize if she took Meg’s car home and came back for her tomorrow. Lizzie looked to the left for the bathroom, but was startled by a deep voice behind her.
“It’s the other way. Don’t use the guest bathroom after Walt, that’s a recipe for disaster.”
Lizzie twirled around to see Ransom sitting on the next staircase leading farther up into the house, nursing his own beer. She hadn’t realized he was still around after he disappeared hours earlier. She clamped her hands together and looked to her right, “Thanks for the tip.”
Ransom groaned as he pushed himself to his feet. He pushed his hand through his dark hair and scowled downstairs, “You needed a break from them, too?”
“I didn’t realize you were even still here.” Lizzie admitted, studying Ransom’s pretty face as he focused on his family, “Where have you been?”
He scoffed, gesturing down the hallway to the right, “I’ve been around. Played a couple rounds of Go with my grandfather and then grabbed another beer when what’s her name came up to put him to bed.”
“Marta.” Lizzie corrected and Ransom eyed her lazily. She stopped walking and turned to face him, “Her name is Marta. She’s a nurse.”
“Okay. I don’t care.”
“You should. She’s a person.” Lizzie peaked into the room Ransom was leading her too, seeing a bathroom beyond the far wall. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m pretty sure I can see myself to the restroom. I don’t need a babysitter, especially not a misogynist like you.”
“That’s a big word for, what, an eighteen year old? You’re one of Meg’s classmates, right?” Ransom challenged and Lizzie responded by going into the bathroom and slamming the door in his face. She stared at her reflection for a moment, torn between wanting to hide like Great Nana and wanting to banter with Harlan Thrombey’s grandson some more.
Lizzie turned when she heard the door outside the bathroom close, making her decision for her. After a few minutes she emerged, fully expecting to be alone, but she was wrong.
Ransom sat on the bed, scrolling through his phone. He’d closed the door, but seemed to lock himself in with the woman. She piqued her brow and decided banter it was. “Oh, so you make a habit of locking yourself in bedrooms with eighteen year olds? Real classy, I’m sure your parents are so proud.”
“You aren’t eighteen. You’re a senior. Writing major. Your father is the Dean of your college and your mother is a Senator.” Ransom looked up and met Lizzie’s eyes with renewed interest, “And here I thought you were the help.”
“You seem to be under the impression you’re the only person in the world with money, but if I had to guess I’d say you’ve never earned a dollar of your own.” Lizzie crossed her arms and leaned against the nineteenth century dresser across from the bed. “What do you do? Model? Act?”
“I do whatever I want.” Ransom answered, leaning back onto his elbows to stretch out on the bed. Lizzie ran her eyes up his long torso, but she dared to linger on the little bit of exposed skin of his waist where his grey sweater rode up.
“Uh huh. So no job? Just... living off of Grandpa’s money, right?” Lizzie shoved herself off of the dresser, feeling a head ache growing in the back of her skull. “Where do you live?”
“I’ve got my own place. I can take you there, if you want?” Ransom asked boldly, licking his lip as he stared up at the beautiful redhead. She was stunning. From her pale skin to her tiny waist, Ransom drank her in as she stood before him, but she made him wait for his answer.
Lizzie shook her head slightly, just enough to get her message across, “No. You’ve got to earn it.”
Ransom sat up and lulled his head to the side as he squinted up at her,“Sounds like a lot of work.”
“It’ll be worth it if you do.” Lizzie answered and closed the gap between them and caught his lips with hers, using one hand to tug on his messy hair and the other to hold the nape of his neck so he couldn’t escape. She fought herself into his mouth, tasting him for a long moment before pulling away to leave the bedroom.
Before her fingers could brush the door knob, a strong hand grabbed her other wrist and gently pulled her back into a kiss that was too soft, too sweet, and too out of character for the asshole Lizzie believed Ransom to be. But with some hard work on is part, she made his efforts worth it that night.
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"but he murdered people”
This is a post about Goro Akechi, murder, its aftermath, trauma, and two things that are in real short fucking supply around here: critical thinking and empathy.
Listen, I’m a veteran of the Dragon Age fandom. If you want to talk about toxic fandoms, they’re your Bible. As far as your Judas Iscariots and Nebuchadnezzars go, I was one of them. I’ve seen it, I’ve done it, and I’m done with it. It’s exhausting to carry that much rage inside of you, to live it actively every second of every day, and to inflict it on other people and laugh about it. So I’ve been disengaged, largely, for a few years.
And now I’m in the Persona 5 fandom and find myself enthusiastically appreciating Goro Akechi, because who doesn’t love complex, morally flawed, ambiguously gay-coded characters? Shit, maybe you’re not on board, but I’ll sign right up. I’m a relative newcomer, despite being a longtime Persona fan and playing P5 around when it came out, because I didn’t engage with the fandom then. I jumped back in with the Royal announcement and absolutely saturated myself in this vibrant fan space. Invested in the idea of Akechi being explored as a fully fleshed-out character, I find myself following Goroboys. Which is great! Because so far, they’re all great! Nicest bunch of people you could ever hope to meet!
Except there’s Discourse. There’s always been Discourse, I find, but this is my first exposure to it in this fandom. This weekend was my first week of seeing Goro antis active, seeing people I follow, people I like and appreciate and some I considering genuine friends, actively attacked and harassed because they like a fictional teenage character who killed some other fictional people in a fictional world where you, playing as the main character, have the ability to perform a metaphysical lobotomy on people who literally can’t consent. Here I thought the only people who hated Akechi were white cishet men who saw his rage against a parent and said, “Nah, too bitchy for me,” because they’re too afraid to look in a mirror and see Masayoshi Shido’s fascist, misogynistic mug staring back.
Are you awake yet? Have I woken you up to the fact that Persona 5′s premise is a wish-fulfillment fantasy of “what if I could make the person who took advantage of me when I was a teenager apologize in front of the entire world by using an alternate fantasy dimension to completely violate their brain”?
I see my friends saying, “Wow, it’s amazing how people who hate Akechi can’t leave people who like Akechi alone,” and within an hour they have replies saying MURDER IS MURDER as if they know what murder actually is.
We’re about to get real personal up in here because maybe, only then, will some of you people take the hint that your behavior borders on actively bullying other people on the internet over a fictional character.
Ready? Here goes.
Murder is your mom picking you up from summer camp three weeks after your ninth birthday, driving you to your grandparents’ house, and telling you that when daddy was at work today, someone tried to steal the money, and they had a gun. Daddy was brave and Daddy died.
Murder is blacking out when you’re nine years old and coming to to yourself two houses away on a neighbor’s swing set with crickets chirping in your ears and the crushing reality of never seeing your father again turning your brain into static.
Murder is asking your mother if she asked for the death penalty, and your mother telling you, in a pleading voice, that she didn’t because he was mentally ill and it didn’t feel right. Murder is feeling angry afterwards because you feel like something was taken away from you, and something should be exchanged for that. Because that’s how fairness works, right? If you steal candy from the store, you have to give up your allowance for the next five months.
Murder is realizing you’re an atheist at fourteen and driving past the cemetery where your father’s remains are interred, and having the gut-punching, soul-suffocating realization of what never ever ever actually means. Murder is building an internal cosmology where forever means my atoms and yours, creating new life in perpetuity as the comfort you drag out of the west’s cold, uncaring atheism that never found its own poetry.
Murder is your first two years in college, when you discover social justice and realize the world is bigger than your own life experiences, and that violence at the bottom is a reactionary symptom against violence at the top. Murder is understanding the fact that the man who killed your father was himself a victim of a racist, ableist, capitalist society with a morally bankrupt healthcare system, and that every single one of those things is in and of itself is more hateful than the act of your father bleeding out in the parking lot, in the ambulance, on the operating table.
Murder is your mother confessing to you in college that your father was physically abusive of her and that she had threatened him, only weeks before he was killed, that she would leave and take her daughters with her if he didn’t change. Murder is knowing that your father ran after an armed robber because he was raised by a Sicilian father in a household overflowing with toxic masculinity, and what killed your father wasn’t a man with a gun: what killed your father was the patriarchy whispering in his ear, This theft emasculates you.
Murder is looking your own mother in the eye and telling her that one day you want to visit the man who killed your father and open your heart to him, because all you can think is, He didn’t plan this. He can’t have wanted this. What must it feel like to kill someone without intending to and then have to live with that for the rest of your life with no one to help you? Murder is the sound of betrayal in your mother’s voice when she responds, disbelieving.
Murder is spending years wanting to at least write to him, and then forgetting, and then going back, because you are a fluid, impermanent, imperfect person with your own flaws and failures and mental issues that hold you back from being the paragon you want to be. Murder is throwing yourself into the left and embracing prison abolition so hard it hurts, because you know that if the state can lock up someone who doesn’t “matter,” the state can lock up anyone.
Murder is throwing away or selling every childhood thing you ever possessed because you are not by nature a sentimental person, but never giving up that doll you were gifted, the doll you coveted and wanted more than anything else, three weeks before your father was shot and killed. You have no pictures, no mementos, no nothing, but she sits at the top of your bookshelf to this day, a weighty child goddess, the symbol of your torn and labyrinthine childhood.
Murder is having to see a bunch of petty-ass people using actual trauma that real life people have experienced and continue to experience to directly and repeatedly harass your friends online (and yourself, indirectly, by tagging their hateful shit) because you and your friends like a fictional fucking character who, by nature of being fictional, did not actually murder any real existing people.
Murder is building your entire identity around how you sympathize, deeply, with the person who killed your own father, because that takes hard work and deep empathy and the ability to see past a lot of bullshit just to get to that point, and having some fuck-ass anons act like none of that matters because there is (apparently, I must assume) some omnipotent god of justice saying “Fuck you and everything you’ve been through” that apparently only these bullies can hear.
Murder is seeing fandom moralizers talk about murder like they understand it. Like they’ve read this, plus the last ten-plus paragraphs, and decided they know best anyway because mommy and daddy always told them Criminals Are Bad and walked wide-eyed and innocent into a social network overrun with TERFs, exclusionists, and a rotten segment of the political left that acts like some extras straight out of The Crucible.
I have never once been triggered by anything relating to my father’s murder. I cried at the Resurrection Stone scene in The Deathly Hallows, I cried when I completed when I completed the DA2 DLC Legacy after the end of act 2. When I see a parent die, I have an emotional reaction, because it’s familiar.
But the Akechi antis who all say “but he killed people!”, The Akechi antis who say “murder is still murder”?
The murder of my father is still murder. The man who killed him, his murderer, is still regardless a human being, the man who killed him deserves sympathy and compassion and understanding and respect and, above all, a chance.
I am a living example of what’s left behind when someone is murdered. You can walk into the mausoleum where my father is interred, face his headstone, and let the earth open up beneath you and drop you into hell.
So most sincerely, from someone who lost their father to gun violence, to armed robbery, to murder: Stop fucking using our lived experiences as your justification to harass and bully people online for committing the Grave Moral Sin of just liking a video game character.
Between the fact that the American government is keeping real people in concentration camps and a bunch of strangers on the internet liking a twiggy teenage anime boy who used a fantasy world to kill people who don’t exist, which one is actually important to deserve your moral outrage?
You’ll die eventually; fascism won’t kill itself.
#persona#persona 5#p5#goro akechi#if you tell me you're sorry for my loss i'll literally hunt you down and eat you#this one goes out to the goroboys#pour one out kids#real tired of having a bunch of dungeon dwellers insinuate that i#a person who has experienced firsthand the trauma of losing a loved one to murder#am apparently delusional for liking a character who murdered people#you people probably all think tony stark is the best avenger#you probably watched the game of thrones finale and thought dany going mad queen was good writing#you probably think ''split'' is a good horror movie#you probably thought lala land should have won the oscar#you probably like ed sheeran#this is rebloggable fyi
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