It’s been a
little over a month since episode 12 of Yuri!!! On Ice aired and every time I
rewatch the whole series, I find new things worth talking about. I know many
people in the YOI fandom were upset because they considered that Victor making
a comeback to competitive figure skating was against the narrative. However, I
think the series was heading that way since the very beginning. Victor never
wanted to retire, and those who think that way completely misunderstood
Victor’s character. I’m sure this is going to get really long, so I’ll put it
under the cut.
That feeling when you’re laughing at something you really enjoy and then out of nowhere you’re hit by a wave of exhaustion at the thought of having to get out of bed every morning for the rest of your life.
Amidst all my grief, I just wanna take a moment to point out just… Dean. Dean and that whole monologue with Mary when he’s trying to pull her from being brainwashed.
The whole Mary and Dean dynamic has hit close to home for me this season because of my own background. I grew up with a mother who was around but for numerous reasons that as an adult I can understand and appreciate, but it meant she couldn’t be the mother I needed as a child. (I used to write in my diary as a kid how ‘I felt like the mother’ numerous times. Yeah.)
It’s freaking hard when it’s family. It’s an absolute testament to Dean and the strength he has that for his whole life he had to work to be that foundation, as he said - a brother, father AND mother, and he couldn’t do it. And then when his mother finally waltzes into his life he has to hold his tongue everytime his own pain and trauma rises to the surface, because they’re all 'adults’ and they need to 'act like adults’.
Dean’s been harbouring that burden and pain for nearly 34 years at that point. And even when his mother is around he STILL has to make do as the 'responsible adult’, the rock.
I’ve actually adored Mary as a character, but when she was brainwashed I wouldn’t have blamed Dean, really, if he left her. It was a consequence of working with the BMOL which he warned about. But he didn’t.
What I love so much about the scene is that he doesn’t try for some rousing heartwarming speech but he’s blatantly obvious. It’s a space where he can finally be honest about how he’s feeling. All those years of dealing with that burden of being the family rock and he finally, FINALLY lets himself feel that pain, let’s himself point out for what it was. It was unfair. Dean doesn’t owe anyone anything, because no one’s ever given him the time of day in that regard.
What gets me is Dean allowing that hurt, but not allowing it in the way of forgiveness. It is freaking hard to forgive someone, especially a family member whose actions have affected yours all your life and they haven’t even been around to at least understand. And yet there is Dean, stating his forgiveness. Extending his heart and allowing himself to be so vulnerable. And it brought her back. And it paid off. Dean Winchester is an absolute artist when it comes to restoring people emotionally.
Dean Winchester’s strength was never necessarily in his tactical wit, his physical strength or determination. Dean Winchester has always had too much heart, and it is his heart that has been his strength for himself, and for so many people around him.
- i was trying to discreetly take a picture of u bc hey ur really cute but the flash was on and now ur staring at me oh god
- u sit next to me on the subway everyday and i was wondering if u wanna go grab a coffee sometime
- u got really drunk, fell asleep on my shoulder, and ur drooling on me but im not gonna move u bc u look really cute
- who is this sending me memes at 3 in the morning I swear I will block you if u dont stop
- hey u work at this store can u help me find this in my size please maybe in a different color
- short person at concert struggling to see when suddenly they are lifted onto tall strangers shoulders and hey they’re kinda cute
- stargazing and using dumb pick up lines on each other with lots of hand holding
- 2 ppl that are horrible in the kitchen bake a cake
- you’re taking up the whole bed can u please move I know you’re not asleep u jerk I will kung fu kick u out of this bed
- how are u so good at ice skating dont abandon me stop come back don’t u dare spin me please hold my hand
- nerds who can’t even kiss bc they keep nose bumping n giggling and smiling at each other
- u hate this party too? wanna go get ice cream or something?? u got some on ur nose here I’ll kiss it off
- laying in bed while it rains counting freckles on the others face
- sitting under a willow tree making flower crowns and falling asleep in the sun probably with ones head on the others chest
- strangers on a plane that are sharing earbuds for some reason and wow u have good music taste
Here’s a little story for your #TBT: Do you notice anything different about MJ’s number?
Jordan’s No. 23 jersey is believed to have been stolen on the day of the game. The Bulls did not bring a backup No. 23 jersey with them, but the team did have a just-in-case No. 12 kit bearing no name on the back.
Over 47 minutes, Jordan scored 21 of his 43 shot attempts for a game-high 49 points. Chicago led by double digits in the third quarter, but the Magic – buoyed by 34 points from Terry Catledge, 16 off the bench from Scott Skiles and a then-franchise high 19 rebounds from Sidney Green – mounted a comeback to force overtime, where they pulled out a 135-129 win.
Former Bulls teammate Stacey King said he remembers the jersey theft being a “big deal” and how Jordan was “very superstitious” about his jersey. After the game, Jordan spoke about having to wear a different number. “That has never happened to me before,“ Jordan said, according to the Sentinel. "It’s pretty irritating because you’re accustomed to certain things and you don’t like to have things misplaced.”
It is not known who stole the jersey, but a person familiar with the event indicated the No. 23 jersey was taken between shoot around the day of the game and tipoff, and that it was found a couple of days later in the ceiling tiles of the visiting locker room.
Barring new information, the nature of the jersey’s disappearance ensures it will remain a mysterious footnote on the résumé of the greatest player in NBA history.
It’s approaching midday and we’re trundling along a bumpy, unsealed red dirt track on Bathurst Island, 100 kilometres north of Darwin, with the temperature quickly soaring into the mid-30s.
Inside a twin cab that’s seen better days, with air-conditioning ducts that pump more fine red dust into the car than cold air, there is a cacophony of laughing, teasing, and trading of community gossip. Five sistergirls, transgender Aboriginal people traditionally known in the Tiwi Islands as yimpininni, are giving BuzzFeed News a tour of their island home.
While transgender people are found across many of Australia’s Indigenous communities, the Tiwi Islands has probably the largest sistergirl population in the country – and certainly the most famous one.
There are roughly 2,500 people living in the Tiwi Islands, comprised of Bathurst Island and Melville Island, and the sistergirls say there are currently around 80 yimpininni.
Pandanus trees whisk by with their long, crooked leaves reaching toward earth at sharp right angles. The red earth gives way to soft powdery sand, and the smell of the ocean engulfs the car followed shortly by the stickiness of salt water blowing in from the Arafura Sea. Sweet relief from the staggering heat.
We stop at the foot of a dune and suddenly the frenzied laughter comes to an abrupt end as all the sistergirls begin loudly yelling out in the Tiwi language. They say they’re letting the spirits of their ancestors know that we are coming on to country to ensure that no harm comes to the group or to me, a stranger. It’s a moment that perfectly highlights the profound connection to country and culture that the people of Tiwi have.
After the whooping, we walk onwards and are confronted with a stunning, vast swath of empty beach with shimmering turquoise water lapping at our feet. The sistergirls agree it’s the perfect backdrop for a photo shoot and happily strut their stuff for the camera, posing and pouting, legs akimbo, fierce face on. Their only concern is the saltwater crocodiles that lurk in the waters around the island.
Between poses Laura Orsto, 31, says she told her parents that she was a sistergirl in primary school. “Age 10 I knew I was a sistergirl. It was really, really, very hard for me to come out because my parents are really strict and didn’t want me to be out there as a sistergirl. They wanted me to be saved,” she says.
As a 16-year-old, Orsto began living her life as a female and had to “fight and fight and battle hard to be accepted”. In remote Indigenous communities being transgender often means defying rigidly observed cultural practices defined by male and female gender roles. In many cases it also means having to defy strictly held religious beliefs common in many Indigenous communities.
It was an older yimpininni who gave Orsto courage and strength as she came to terms with living life as a woman. “There were plenty of sistergirls back then; I used to go out with them and talk about things, like how to act like girls you know and be ladylike. One lady, I use to call her Mum, she was like a mother to me, and she told me, ‘You just have to be who you want to be, baby, just like me. I’m always here for you, you got me here.’”
This woman, who gave so much strength to the sistergirl community, would tragically go on to kill herself.
Orsto says the death took a deep emotional toll and she contemplated suicide herself, but ultimately triumphed over her personal demons. Today Orsto is a much-loved and respected member of the community. “I love to talk to everyone, and everyone has been nice to me and they don’t put me down, they put me up the top. Everyone says, ‘Wow, you have a nice personality, Miss Laura,’” Orsto said.
We make our way back to the car and head into town. As we travel the small roads that snake through the dense scrub that blankets the island, the sistergirls occasionally point out various ceremonial sites and traditional campgrounds.
Suddenly we’re out of the bush and on to the bitumen as we enter Wurrumiyanga, the main township on Bathurst Island. The wide streets intersect large blocks full of colourfully painted brick homes. Windows rolled down, the sistergirls intermittently yell out at people walking alongside the roads, making plans for later and asking where people are. The twin cab then swings into the local cemetery, an arid, dusty graveyard dotted with sparse trees. Rising from the mounds of earth are decorative Pukumani poles, traditional funerary poles that are sculpted and painted to honour the dead. Also known as tutini, the poles form part of an ancient Tiwi ceremony to ensure the spirit leaves the body.
Nyarli Kerinaiua, 34, points out two graves adorned with beautiful tutinis reaching for the sky, covered in intricate ornate Tiwi design. After a heavy silence there’s a slow stream of softly spoken Tiwi from each sistergirl, their sentences flowing into each other as they pay respects to the dead and tell the sistergirls who are buried here that they are not forgotten.
Both had killed themselves 15 years ago. “It was really sad because we didn’t have any support back then. It was a bit of an aggressive ride,” says Kerinaiua as she straightens a bunch of plastic flowers on one of the graves.
After the suicides, Kerinaiua and around 30 sistergirls attended a community meeting and demanded acceptance for transgender people.
Sistergirl Vivian Warlapinni, 31, remembers the meeting as a pivotal turning point for equality within the community.
Kerinaiua says that the fight for acceptance has largely been won and the biggest issue now is ensuring future generations of sistergirls are able to easily access resources.
The sistergirls pile back into the twin cab and soon we’re at a local water hole. The day is coming to an end and a water monitor swims across the crystal-clear water triumphantly holding a fat prawn in its mouth. One of the sistergirls takes out a chunk of ochre collected near the beach and begins to carefully break it, pounding it into fine powder on a piece of cardboard on a picnic bench. Carefully she adds water and the dusty powder becomes a rich, thick paste. A small twig is broken off a nearby tree and dipped into the paste, and Orsto begins to use it as eyeliner, methodically working the twig across her eyelids, carefully revealing a bright orange tint.
Fluttering her eyes she says, “I want to start hormone therapy. I really want to have this transition. I just hate that I am this girl trapped in a boy’s body. She’s been trapped in there for a long long time and she really wants to come out and be a real lady.”
However, the choice to leave her community, after fighting for and winning acceptance, is a difficult decision to make. Faced with the prospect of traveling thousands of kilometres for treatment in the city, where Orsto feels discrimination is a very real reality, she says she’ll remain in her Tiwi home for the moment, surrounded by family and friends: “I am a lady of the community and I am accepted as that. This is my home and I love it.”
Mordred currently has 34 points in magic which, as Arcane Warrior, makes him equivalent to Sten’s 34 points in Strength.
Maybe suplexing people became a favorite way to fight for him. He’s small enough that he won’t slam his head on the ground but also absolutely strong enough to throw most of the assholes he comes across.
What a week it’s been — since we last touched in with this terrifying vision of the not-so-distant future, we’ve learned The Handmaid’s Tale has been renewed for a second season. Are you excited by the prospect of more Gilead? I’m waiting to see where this first installment leaves off before I decide. We’ve already seen the show expand the world of Margaret Atwood’s novel well, but it hasn’t gone beyond that framework yet.
With that aside out of the way, let’s get into this season’s fifth hour, which starts off with a much cozier looking game of Scrabble. Offred’s shoes are off, she’s sitting on the floor with a drink, and the Commander is wearing a T-shirt instead of his spiffy suit. By her count, they’ve played 34 games by this point, and she’s picked up more and more about him over the course of them: including that he likes it when she flirts with him, and she likes when he lets her win. A match made in heaven. This time, though, he also has something else for her — a fashion magazine, all of which were supposed to be destroyed for the many reasons that now make them illegal (women aren’t supposed to read, and those articles are bound to be about sex and career advice and choosing clothes for yourself that aren’t mandated by a rigid caste system!). “Some of us have an appreciation for the old things,” he tells her, smiling, as he hands it over and says that while they’re most definitely not allowed, she can look through it while with him. She flips through the pages, remembering how she’d read magazines like these at the airport, when she got her hair highlighted. “Now the models all look insane, like zoo animals unaware they’re about to go extinct,” she thinks to herself. There’s a quiz in there: 10 ways to tell how he feels about you. One example? He brings you small gifts. Check!
Another way to tell if he’s into you: if the guy just casually hangs around places you’re sitting with no real reason to be there. Yep, we see you Nick, loitering in the kitchen. That’s interrupted by Serena Joy, who wants to have a private conversation with Offred outside (while gardening — which was a passion of Book Version Serena Joy’s, too). It’s not that she’s found out about Scrabble or the magazine, or is keeping her busy until a van of Eyes come to take her away. She just has a request. A proposal, of sorts. Offred still isn’t pregnant, and just like the doctor suggested last week, maybe the Commander just isn’t able to make it happen. So, Serena Joy whispers, maybe there’s another way — another man who can offer up his “services.” And she’s got just the guy: Nick, who has apparently already agreed. Offred agrees — but really, does she have much of a choice here?
RELATED: Margaret Atwood and Elisabeth Moss Discuss The Handmaid’s Tale
They decide to set it up for that same afternoon because why waste time, but beforehand, Offred has the day’s shopping to do — and it’s at the market that she sees Ofglen again (scratch that, the woman formerly known as Rory Gilmore Emily is actually Ofsteven now) wearing her handmaid robes and checking out produce like it’s business as usual. In hushed tones, they catch up quickly — she’s fine but can’t tell her anything about Nick because now she’s too dangerous to be part of the resistance, which we learn is called Mayday.
Before she can ask more questions, the new Ofglen interrupts, and they can’t speak any further. On the walk home, that woman warns Offred not to mess this up for her. “This isn’t messed up?” Offred wonders, and the new Ofglen gives Offred a lesson in perspective — where June had a nice apartment and a penchant for Anthropologie in her old life, this Ofglen had a drug addiction, which she prostituted herself to support. Here, though, she’s clean, she has a safe place to sleep, and people are nice to her, so it’s not the same level of hell for her that it is for others, and she doesn’t want what happened to Ofsteven to happen to her.
Back at the house, Serena Joy collects Offred from her room, and they head across the yard towards Nick’s apartment above the garage. Offred tells herself to calm down. “Barring the possibility of violent arrest, it’s nothing I haven’t done before,” she muses. “So how come this time it feels like I’m cheating on Luke?”
Ah, Luke. This week’s flashback gives us a meet-cute straight out of The New York Times vows section, when Moira walks up to him waiting in line at a food truck and asks him to critique June’s Tinder profile. He and June start meeting for coffee and lunch, and even though Luke is married, there are obvious sparks. (Side note: Did you notice the little girls playing outside? Their coats were handmaid red, and it gave me the creeps.) June and Luke joke about getting a room somewhere, but then it goes from jokey to less jokey, and then later on they actually do get a room, a “just once” thing that we all know is never just once. And sure enough, when she asks him to leave his wife, he agrees to.
Compare that happy, passionate, consensual sex with what happens in Nick’s apartment — it’s not the Ceremony, but it’s still joyless, awkward, and happens with Serena Joy watching from the sidelines, asking immediately after if she feels pregnant, and praying over her belly. And after this illicit encounter, Waterford also changes up the state-sanctioned rules around Offred and her body — he touches her thigh during the next Ceremony (is this all the same day?) in full view of Serena Joy, and he looks at her much differently than he ever did before.
When she goes to his office to admonish him over it, noting Serena Joy could have her sent to the colonies or worse, he replies that he finds that whole Ceremony thing so impersonal. “You think?!” she fires back. He invites her to stay for a drink and dangles a magazine in front of her, asking if she misses the lists of made-up problems that filled their pages: Women were never rich enough, pretty enough, good enough. “We had choices then,” she says.
“Now you have respect, you have protection, you can fulfill your biological destinies in peace,” he replies. “Children — what else is there to live for?” When Offred says love, he smiles indulgently and brings up the former Ofglen from next door, and how they “saved” her from the “urges” that made her do “unnatural things” in the name of love. “Every love story is a tragedy if you wait long enough,” he says. Offred, breathless and perhaps now just fully understanding what happened to her friend, gets up to go, and the Commander offers this rationalization for the things that have happened:
“We only wanted to make the world a better place,” he tells Offred.
“Better?” she asks back.
Well, not quite. “Better never means better for everyone,” he admits. “It always means worse for some.”
Another day at an outdoor market, Offred finds a moment to quietly meet with the new Ofsteven and apologizes for what the government has done to her. Ofsteven replies that Mayday can’t use her anymore, but Offred could help — they’re fighting back against the government in Gilead. Offred keeps calling her Ofglen, even though that’s not her name anymore and never was hers to begin with. “My name is Emily,” she says, reclaiming that essential part of herself, then asking Offred a simple yet very pointed question: “Who are you?” Before Offred can answer, her partner pulls her away. Despondent, Emily steals a car (driving, we can only imagine, isn’t something women get to do anymore, making this extra illegal), backing over an Eye and then, seeing no way out of the corner she’s in, speeds forward and runs over the man, killing him. The Eyes then drag her out from broken windows and take her away.
What’s going to happen to her now? It definitely can’t be good. But Offred sees it as a sign that her friend wasn’t broken despite what she’s been through. “They didn’t get everything. There was something inside her they couldn’t take away,” she thinks to herself. “She looked invincible.” She also thinks about the name of the resistance group, Mayday, and how Luke once told her where it came from: the French phrase m’aidez. Help me.
And then she takes another little bit of herself back — she leaves the house alone, goes over to Nick’s, takes off that stupid white bonnet, and literally lets her hair down before she undresses him and then herself, and they have actual, non-awkward, passionate sex. It’s not quite running off in a car, but it seems like a step toward her own declaration of independence.