full impact

(some rich white celebrity steps up to the stage at the academy awards to accept an oscar)

“Right now…..Donald Trump…..he bad man.”

Journalism the next day: “____ totally went THERE in their speech last night” Edit:This isn’t a dig at famous celebrities trying to speak out against political injustice so much as those that do using incredibly blanketed and basic sentences like the equivalent of Hillary’s twitter going “delete your account” or the “GAY RIGHTS” Jennifer Lawrence joke. It’s mostly a satire on those who speak out as a way to gain attention rather than for the legitimate cause and have really basic speeches/opinions that validate that rather than taking the time to voice legitimate issues or anything with meaning. Right now celebs speaking out on Trump is one of the most sure-fire ways to get under his skin and rile up his supporters which I love, because this guy deserves to be shit on as much as possible. I just think it gets grating when those who may not receive the full impact of his actions or have the finances to stay safe and healthy when the going may get tough speak out for the common folk in the most simplistic if not condescending way possible only to be praised for it in the usual clickbait fashion. It’s an extremely limited scenario in the big picture but one that’s bugged me regardless and hence I wanted to make a joke about it. I don’t at all discredit many of the comments on this post and there’s merit to many of them but I just ask people stop flooding my inbox with anger over something that was meant to be a spoof on media habits and certain celebrity types rather than an annoyance towards making fun of a vile man who by all accounts deserves it

The violin scene at the end of The Final Problem is truly one of the most impactful moments (if not the most) in all of BBC Sherlock. I honestly am still speechless that Moftiss wrote something so profound. Eurus was beyond communication with the outside world after the events of this episode, back to the untouchable genius in her glass cage. But Sherlock. Sherlock, this incredible and kind man, who had lost so much to this woman, understood her and still reached out to help. He wasn’t encouraging her to play her own song, he was initiating a duet–so she wasn’t alone, even in her music. It was a conversation, it was understanding, it was connection. This man went beyond words, where others had failed and stopped trying, and showed her that she wasn’t alone. Sherlock has become- or perhaps he always was- one of the best men I’ve ever seen.

@whoacanada posted this, and I’ve seen it a few times now, and finally caught a bit of time so this happened. also tagging @especially-shitty @audiaphilios @pale-silver-comb and @rhysiana who I’ve either seen reblog this, or think will enjoy it. Maybe a birthday present for @iboatedhere too.


There’s a figure skating exhibition in Montréal which Bob is guest announcing at, so the whole Zimmermann fam goes to watch.

Jack is still in his in between phase of adolescence, not quite grown into his limbs, face still rounded with the last bits of stubborn childhood fat. His whole body still a little too large, and his confidence bowed under the extra weight and his blooming anxiety about his future, his sexuality, and life as the child of two incredibly successful, beautiful people.

But underneath that, is a clever, witty, ridiculous flirty man waiting for an opportunity to present itself.

Enter one Eric R. Bittle. Just over five and a half feet of lean muscle and able to move it all with a speed and grace that leaves Jack breathless. Watching Eric skate, watching him bring the story of his music to life in sweeping arcs and gravity defying jumps and spins, is a revelation. Jack loses himself in the sparkling whirlwind of movement and glowing blond hair that is Eric Bittle.

When his routine ends, in a glorious final spin that leaves Eric with outstretched arms and his head thrown back, a triumphant smile on his face, Jack is mesmerized by the line of Eric’s neck and the way he can see the heavy breaths Eric is taking. Jack can feel his heart beating in time with the rise and fall of Eric’s chest. When Eric looks up, he looks radiant, and he looks right at Jack. The full impact of his smile hits Jack right in the gut.

He must make a sound, because Alicia looks at him with a knowing gleam in her eyes and asks “Ça'va, cher?” Jack can only nod, eyes glued to Eric’s figure as he makes his way off the ice. He misses Alicia’s grin, but takes comfort in the arm she wraps around his shoulder, difficult with the way he’s almost taller than her now, even at 16, but still nice.

He’s not entirely sure how, but he ends up in the hallway outside the locker room with his parents. Bob is talking with the skaters as they come out, Jack mostly a silent presence, making awkward attempts at conversation when addressed and getting slightly irritated at the way everyone looks at him like he’s adorable despite them mostly being not much older than him. (He’d checked Eric’s age at least, and was incredibly pleased that he was the same age.)

Then, Eric is just. There. In front of him. Smiling that same sunshiny smile that is even more spectacular up close. From this close, Jack can see the warm honey and bourbon flecks in Eric’s big brown eyes, and how they radiate kindness. He feels like he’s taking up too much space, feels all the clumsiness in his limbs that only seems to disappear when he’s playing hockey.

When Eric speaks, his accent catches Jack off guard, but in a good way. It makes him feel warm and soft, and he hopes he isn’t blushing.

“Hello Mr and Mrs Zimmermann, it is such an honor to meet you! I’ve followed both of your careers, and y'all are such an inspiration!” Eric’s exuberance makes Jack smile, he feels it stretch across his face and can’t even be embarrassed about it because when Eric looks at him Jack sees it reflected back at him.

“Oh. Hello! You’re Jack, right? The next Zimmermann to watch out for?” He says it with sincerity, and a hint of a chirp, and Jack doesn’t feel any of the pressure he usually does when people talk about his legacy.

He takes just a second too long to reply, and his dad nudges his arm a little to get his attention. He catches a smirk on Bob’s face in his peripheral vision, and a quick wordless exchange between his parents, and has a sudden flash of his dad telling him about how he wooed his mom by speaking to her in French at any given opportunity.

So when Jack responds, a second or two past what’s strictly socially acceptable but not so long it’s awkward, he can only say “Bonjour, Eric,” as he presents his hand, almost sighing when Eric slips his own surprisingly soft hand into Jack’s, shaking it with a firm grip and a smile still on his face. “Vous étiez incroyable.”

He’s vaguely aware that he should be mortified, but Eric’s cheeks turn a delightful pink and it makes something in Jack want to rise to the challenge of keeping the color there.

“Oh my,” Eric laughs, “You can call me Bitty, Jack. Though I must admit my French is terrible, merci beaucoup.” His accent is quite awful, really, but when Jack notices their hands are still together, that they’re just holding hands now, he can only grin wider.

“De rien, Bitty.” Bitty looks down slightly, notices their hands and his eyes widen. He looks up at Jack from under his impressively thick lashes with a look of wonder on his face.

Bitty mutters what sounds like “Oh, lord,” and Jack chuckles under his breath.

Jack couldn’t agree more. So he squeezes Bitty’s hand and says just quietly enough that Bitty has to lean in a little “D’accord.”

Gavin is the cherubic face of a reductive, dirty debate about trans people’s right to exist in public spaces without hostility, harassment and violence. His case, which remains ongoing in Virginia, has implications that extend far beyond bathrooms. It’s about a greater sense of belonging for us all—at school, at home and in our neighborhoods and places of work and worship. So many are made to feel as if they should hide, pretend or perish. Gavin’s refusal to be treated unjustly is an enduring reminder that we will not be stalled.

ICYMI: Transgender teenager Gavin Grimm is on this year’s TIME 100 list of the most influential people. Read Janet Mock’s full statement on the impact he’s made. 

a-dreamers-universe  asked:

Let's talk about the Beast's smile after Belle asks him to bring her back "home" 😍😍😍

Can I write you a freaking essay on that moment? We have to go back a ways for the full impact, after all.

Because he wants this to be a great gift for her. This girl who just confided in him that her tiny village was stifling and full of people telling her how odd and strange she was, and so he wants to give her an escape and let her go anywhere in the world, and you just know when he first discovered the book, he went to all these big grand places he’d always wanted to see.

And he expects her to do the same, but even though she takes them to Paris, she takes them to a very specific Paris because what she wants to see more than any other place in the world is this home she might have had, this place and this moment that defined the rest of her life, so that she can figure out and understand how.

And then she breaks down and he’s caused her to live her mother’s death, and he knows exactly how that feels, and now he’s ruined everything, and this gesture that was supposed to be an amazing gift for her has turned out so horribly and she’s going to hate him for putting her through this, and he was right when he brought it out, this was the Enchantress’s cruelest curse —

But THEN, as he’s apologizing and asking forgiveness, she looks at him and says “Let’s go home.”

And his FACE! Worried, then surprised, then stunned as her full meaning hits him. And then he smiles. Because she’s talking about his castle and she’s calling it home.

devieklutz replied to your post: Whoop, my old youth group just stopped…

…i would like to hear the story of the dildo-candle pentagram?


Okay, so, context: this is our mold-and-casting project in Sculpture I. We went to Dollar General, found a thing with a split seam so that we could cast it in only two parts, and then made plaster molds for them.

I got a water bottle shaped like a soccer ball, other people had, like, tops and toy guns and recorders and stuff. 

And my classmate, Lee, had one of the toy guns. (I think that’s a general enough name that I’m not gonna change it. Heavens knows he deserves ALL the credit for this, like wow. It is a life regret of mine that I didn’t manage to get a picture.) 

So we cover our items in petroleum jelly, and prop up sheets of metal with clay, and pour a mold half full with plaster, slather that up with petroleum, cover it up all the way. It was a process that took 2-3 days of class time, what with the mixing and pouring and drying, etc. This is no small time investment. 


Lee is not held back by mortal limits. Lee saw this assignment and made it his own. So, after the first couple days of figuring out how to operate all these things and completing an entire first mold, he gets bored, and tracks down the teacher to see if he could change his object.

Specifically, he wanted to know if he could make a cast of a dildo. 

Not for anything weird (even if silicone WAS one of the casting options), just because he was bored with his toy gun, and wanted to do something more interesting. 

This is art school, so of course she was like ‘yeah sure’, and so the next day he brought in this honking huge dildo and proceeded to make a mold out of it.

We all were working in the same area, but on our own stuff, and the nature of working with large hunks of plaster was that we didn’t see very much of our classmates’ work while they were casting it. Because I was over at the wax station and helping everyone (including Lee) with their stuff, I knew that he was for some reason casting dildo candles, but not much else.

So, critique day arrives.

My teacher was big on having us install our work in-location around the building. Mine was floating outside in a flooded ashtray/trashcan thing in the middle of the rain (my class all had to bring umbrellas to see it), other people had theirs in the hallways, or in the lobby, etc.

Lee had installed his in the back stairwell.

Context: the back stairwell is absolutely my favorite place in the art building. It’s a cool place- dark and shadowy and ominous. The walls are curved, so the stairs sort of float from landing to landing, and it’s tall and chilly and so echoey that I used to sing harmonies with myself on my way down from class. Half the lighting had been covered up for some project back my freshman year and then just never uncovered, remnants of old installations were stuck up on the second floor, and there were shadows of old last-minute spraypaint projects over all the concrete landings. I used to go there to read a book and eat my lunch in-between classes, just for the sheer quiet and shadowy isolation.

And here, on the bottom floor, is where Lee chose to set up his project.

Taking up most of the ground was a large chalk pentagram, with an unlit penis-candle standing up on each point of the star, each of them a different and vaguely fleshlike shade of tan and brown (the wax colors we’d had available). In the middle was one of his rejected wax guns, but instead of just leaving it a gun he had fused it with a wax penis, taking the phallic nature to the extreme.

Back in the shadowed curve of the far wall was a bed-shaped mass of wire mesh, accented by a stained and tattered pillow, like some forsaken monk had been living there, worn bloody on his metal bed, utterly devoted to his work, absent only for a moment.

The entire class filed in, laughing and muttering and waiting. Some people went up on the first leg of the staircase to watch, everyone else just stood in a mass around the dildo-pentagram.

He asked for silence, then proceeded to pull out a lighter, walk ceremonially from candle to candle, and lit them one by one. They cast flickering shadows through the whole space, and when Lee was done, he put his hands together and bowed. He didn’t have a dark robe (no, he pulled the black hooded robe out for one of his other projects, eheh) but it was implied.

And then the entire class stood around the dildo pentagram, still burning, and analyzed the artwork.

It was awesome.

To be clear, Lee wasn’t creepy, he wasn’t weird, he wasn’t even remotely threatening- I loved getting to hang out with him during class, and he was an overall great guy.

He just had an artistic vision, one involving a dildo-pentagram in the back stairwell, and he saw it through.

When our critique was done he left it there, and, aside from one of my classmates, who appropriated a dildo candle right away, for obvious reasons (’omg freakin penis candle I need this in my apartment like yesterday’), it remained untouched for days, just standing there in the art-building stairwell.

And that was the highlight of my intro sculpture class.

Thicker than Water - Part 5

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)


Bucky x Reader series

Summary: Inspired by this post (x)
Being born and raised in a HYDRA family means you must be a devoted member to the organisation, carrying out orders with blind obedience. But after being assigned the suicide mission of being the Winter Soldier’s handler, you slowly start to question where your loyalties truly lie.

Warnings: Blood, violence, swearing

Word count: 4286 It’s so LONG!

A.N: I am so exited for this!! I know it took me FOREVER to write and post this chapter but I really like the way the series is turning out and I hope you really enjoy this part.
I also want to thank @wordsturnintostories for helping me with writers block and a THOUSAND than you’s to  @vashanatasha for her help with the Russian translations. This entire chapter is dedicated to her because she’s a literal angel and this wouldn’t have come to life without her. <3

Originally posted by led-lite

March 2009 
Ukraine - 1307 Hours

“The target is a highly valued scientist of S.H.I.E.L.D that’s about to be smuggled out of Iran by one of their operatives, but we’re intercepting them with an operative of our own.” The voice belonging to one of the commanders had long ago become white noise to you as you walked ahead of him, clad in tactical gear full with a thick belt and combat boots, with a knife strapped to one of your thighs. “Your punishment is to go.”

“What do you mean this is punishment? It’s murder! I’ve never had any proper agent training and now you’re sending me out there to die.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Is it strange that i like to draw the sky a lot???? Like everyday it's different and the light makes different colors and it's calming and soothing and the almost sunsets like before the sun starts to go away are the most beautiful to me

I really want to thank you for this message, because you kinda made me want to draw landscapes and backgrounds again and I usually don’t like them, but now I have a very different view on it. 

The sky can be so versatile. It can be clear and bright, or soft and soothing, or even wild and angry and full of emotions when it’s storming. It’s so full of impact, just like the ocean. I remember a movie, I can’t remember the title (or was it a series?) in which some child said: “Look, the sky is crying” and that child just gave the sky an emotion. They gave an emotion to a simple weather phenomenom. And I think that’s just beautiful because Emotions make us Feel something. Same with sunsets. It’s when the world closes it’s eyes and goes to sleep in some kind of way and even the thought of it is very soothing to me. 

It’s not strange at all. I really admire you for finding something that helps you calm down in such a beautiful way. Seeing beauty in the most simplest things, like the sunset is a rare thing nowadays. But you are right :) 

Contradictions in the creator quotes

I now stand firmly corrected in my misassumption that the big reveal would mean we would revisit the entire show in light of the ending and see an intricate plan. An emotional context we the audience were meant to miss. I was right. As were others. Problem was, it was a sister all along. Unfortunately the sister rugpull rather than a romance rug pull is the less convincing story arc. What we got instead was a finale that makes in retrospect much of what preceded it seem nonsensical at surface level if we accept the finale as the “solution” or the definitive story. How did we get that wrong? I was never a conspiracy fan. It relied on too much “it can only mean one thing” from mountains of data. When the narrative and the claims of creators lying as a benevolent secret keeping was all that was necessary to see a romantic endgame. I opted always for a simple solution. The simplest most probable answer. And that was heavily reliant on my trust in Mofftiss as good storytellers and good show runners. That was for me my biggest error.

If this was not “gay” but “trash”, how did it to get to be *this* trash?
How is it we were so wrong in predicting the endgame across various different theory camps of this fandom? What weaknesses on their part were we overlooking? Or not privy to? Or ignoring. Or not adequately assessing - so that coincidences were ironically a sign of laziness, or clever writing instead turns out to be poor writing - a series of tricks rather than a plan?

Because the end result is simultaneously infuriating and “Meh.” Two things that should not comfortably go together. A rug pull should leave you so impressed you don’t mind being infuriated. You applaud and shout, “oh you tricked me! Well done! How DID you do it?!” And yet, here we are.

Some fans are deciding to keep the faith - hoping for a final rug pull that will show they really were as good as we believed. I’m not there. I am opting to make a deduction and coming to a probable conclusion based on the data we have. No conspiracy. No cruel intentions. Just a series of unfortunate events.

For as much as I am loathe to say this, I think from an executive production point of view, the absence of someone like Steven Thompson means the absence of a critical third voice.
I don’t know why he left but he should have been replaced by *someone*. Mofftiss were clearly given far too much credit and license. Where was the necessary script editing to rein in their now glaringly patent self indulgent natures?
Keeping secrets to the degree they have, and being allowed to, has been proven a big executive error. Because no one was able to say hold on, how will this play out coherently? Virtually every single thing that frustrates the viewer from TEH on right through to the last frame of TFP could have been avoided if they had had a 3rd voice they listened to and who had the authority to thoroughly critique their plans. They were over indulged in all the wrong places.

TAB was a masterpiece but I suspect not for the reasons *they* think it was. They literally do not appear to have seen what it was they were writing. Or they did and defied the results on screen.
Every critique I have, or have seen, comes down in the end to that. Letting them keep secrets from their cast and crew was a glaring warning that there was no one with the authority or the necessary expertise on board to keep them in check and join up the dots.

Moffat and Gatiss have clearly been working without an outside writer’s voice who has authority that they would listen to. Since TEH it has been a problem that only compounds. The errors build on themselves.
It resulted in a finale that many critics and fans are unconvinced by for *multiple different* reasons. It was only at the end that we see just how much they were driving the show haphazardly and possibly the wrong direction.

There’s an analogy that comes to mind. One reason a manager is paid more than their secretary is that if the secretary makes a mistake their errors have less consequences in the grand scheme. You will likely notice their failings very quickly. The manager meanwhile has the ability to make errors that will not only have bigger impact but will not necessarily be immediately obvious. The more power you have the longer it will take for the true and full negative impact of your decisions to be realized. Because as a decision plays out it creates other decisions in a ripple effect that take time to play out. Of course you can offset this by critiquing the decisions before finalizing them, and thinking through what the consequences might be. If you don’t then what will happen? You can only trust the manager. You assume *they* have thought it through and assessed the potential flaws and risks and negative outcomes. That they have a plan to offset any negative consequences or prevent them from happening.
Making sound decisions demands either a high level of self-critique or a system that lets criticism in. To test your plan. To raise the issue of unintended consequences. Not with an intention of blocking success but to *ensure* it.

This show was, I fear, failing at that far earlier than anyone really knew and I don’t think TBTB see it even now. A clear warning flag that many of us picked up on at the time was AA not being told Mary was going to be revealed an assassin. That was an error that not only impacted her performance (think of her as a secretary who realizing an error she didn’t even mean to make or even knew she was making then has to then self-correct on the fly). but it crucially should have signaled a much bigger managerial error that would have a series of far more fundamental negative results. That secrecy meant that no one else got to say, um… are you sure about this plot line? Have you planned any of this out adequately and considered the long term consequences on the narrative? Because if you head down this path you may not be able to undo it. You can’t just make it up as you go. Think this all out. How will this all fit? What ongoing story are you serving here? Where do you want to land?

But the manager was trusted rather than questioned. The only negative consequence was thought to be its impact on Amanda. No biggie. She’s a professional. She can recalibrate to accommodate the performance errors she unwittingly made. Tiny errors that Mofftiss assumed were no big deal, having incorrectly assumed that it would be a better surprise reveal if she was acting blind of what was to come. But that meant she was serving a different story than them. She had no choice but to. It put emphases in potentially the wrong places. Her fellow actors are in turn then reacting to her acting choices and she is reacting to them. But that notion that if they don’t know anything, or, “just assume your character knows nothing because it doesn’t matter”, is not how acting works. They didn’t trust her. I suspect they were doing this all along to their actors. Not actually trusting their skills or adequately hearing their own unfolding insights from inside the characters. So that the cast were acting repeatedly on false sets of assumptions. So too probably were the directors and crew. As a result, what shows up on screen is not what they all think they are making. They all think they are making a slightly different show.

And the widest gap is between what Mofftiss had in their heads and what was on screen. Next down the pecking order is what Martin and Ben thought they were doing. In light of TFP there are acting choices and editing choices over which take of a scene to use (going by the commentaries) that suggest there was no 3rd party with the authority to hear their conversations and say, have you considered that the actors understand the characters better than you do? If that’s true, how might they see the path they are on? Do you realize that if you use this take you are placing an emphasis you should then follow through on.

And no one had the power to point it out and not be shrugged off. So in retrospect, there are scenes that now seem totally overplayed or emotionally on the wrong foot. And the problem is, which ones were out of character in light of TFP? Because I think that’s up for debate.

This was a show attempting to be very clever and yet apparently was very much NOT thought through. The fundamental fan error was assuming stuff could not possibly be coincidence. Others went further and assumed not just endgame narrative but an incredibly intricate conspiracy that they were hiding in plain sight so the fans could guess what the end game was.

But that was never the only option. The one thing that kept getting sidelined was the possibility that they thought they all knew what they were doing but didn’t. That their plans were flawed. And that it wasn’t that they were intentionally writing a narrative that fans could subtextually read. Rather the creators could not see it. Which produced a ton of unintended coincidences. They wrote it and acted it and designed around it and scored it and could not see the wood for the trees. Because what Mofftiss said ultimately ruled at the end.
And that is paradoxically *why* the love story works. Why there are so many coincidences. Because the story we read fitted the rules of storytelling even while Mofftiss tried to defy those very rules. To insist they weren’t telling it.
They simply ignored what many others could see - the story they were telling in spite of themselves. They assumed their intent was more powerful a force. And in that burned the heart out of their own show. So that the finale focused on Sherlock and Eurus in a self indulgent Bond meets gothic horror genre fantasy when in fact this was always meant to be about Sherlock and John. Even platonically, they failed in TFP to deliver on that adequately. They shoved it to the side so it was virtually a subplot. The wrote the wrong kind of ending for a story they were all unconsciously writing, acting, directing, designing, scoring. The very heart of ACD’s stories. The bond between the 2 heroes. A love story, even if one that was limited in its physical or sexual expression.

They tried to refocus at the end on John and Sherlock and in their fast cut blink and you miss it montage they made yet another massive error. A huge one.
They gave Mary the voice that rightly belonged to go back to John - the Boswell, the blogger, the original storyteller. So he could explain what he and Sherlock are. They did it in TAB. Sherlock understood that in TAB. That John’s public narrative is not the truth. That there is an emotional story the public doesn’t see. An emotional Sherlock the Strand reading or blog reading public doesn’t see. They should have let Sherlock’s intuition and unconscious insight be proven right in real life in the 21st century. They should have replayed that aspect of TAB in the real world. Instead, confusingly, they did the exact opposite - so much so John couldn’t tell if Sherlock was faking his own self destruction.
He couldn’t tell the story if he tried. He needed a second opinion. A big clue that they had made a mistake - the same mistake that led them to introduce Mary’s DVD messages:

Mary was never the storyteller. But they tried to make her one. It was a very flawed decision. One of so many. All interlinked. And all ultimately as result of not thinking it through. They stopped serving the core story and served themselves on a personal fan boy level. They tried to be clever and completely missed the emotional context which they claimed was what this show was supposed to all be about. At a surface textual level. And a brief montage of the future feels like a rushed and inadequate pay off to that original intent. With the wrong narrator - with Mary as our intermediary - we are now inexplicably kept more at a distance from them than we were at the start. After going through hell with them.

I suspect that around TRF they began to lose the plot. They began to think details don’t matter. Even though they then discovered fans were weaving intricate explanations for how sherlock lived they persisted in letting details go. Waving it all off to please themselves and evade scrutiny. Mistake.
All the contradictions in cast and crew commentaries and interviews point to that. And fans, me included, assumed they were smarter than that. We kept trying correct the story to make it make sense by assuming they must be telling a different story. Problem was we didn’t give enough air time to imagining a trash ending and looking for clues of what it might be. We wrote far too generous meta. We gave them way more credit than they were due. They really weren’t the storytellers we thought they were. They were just fan boys amusing themselves for a rug pull that was in the end not very interesting or as original as they think. And certainly not groundbreaking.
Rather than correcting what everyone else got wrong, they hatched up an inadequate plan and made poor decisions. Everyone else put far too much trust in them as writers. And it all culminated in an ending that throws up huge retrospective questions about swathes of what preceded it. It potentially breaks the story so that a rewatch will not make sense.

I see little or no reason to come to any other conclusion. It fits all the rules of probability. They just weren’t good enough writers. They put ego before the heart of the narrative and were indulged by too many others.

There may be other probable conclusions. But the least generous is the most sense making one to my mind right now. It requires no leaps of logic.

mrcringe203  asked:

Hey, I love your blog very much. UnderSwap is my favorite AU and I love your interpretation of it. That being said, I know this has to do with UnderSwap but what is your opinion of Undertale Asgore? I mean the feeling I get from most fans is basically Toriels viewpoint on it. But personally he was just trying to do what was right for his kingdom. I feel like he needs more love.

Oh dear, you just hit my weakest weakness. I can’t let an oportunity for some good ol’ character analysis pass. My preemptive apologies for the size of what lies ahead, if anybody wants to skip it it would be completely understandable. Also if you’re here for the Underswap and want nothing but Underswap you can skip this too, since this is a canon-heavy post and probably something that has been said a million times already.

Ok, ready? Let’s go.

Let me start by saying that I absolutely love Asgore (we both do). He is a wonderfully complex and credible and, at least on my opinion, one of the most relatable characters in the whole game. You go the whole game hearing about him from other characters, both in a positive and negative light, and by the time you actually come face to face with him a lot of players have already made an image in their head of who Asgore is. That makes him so interesting for me, because just like in everyday’s life, our opinion about the people we don’t know is shaped by the opinion of those who we do know and care about. A lot of players care about Toriel and trust her, so they trust her opinion that Asgore is in the wrong, but a lot of players care about Undyne and Papyrus too, and they say Asgore is good so how can you not believe them? Unlike other characters who you can easily categorize into “good” and “meh” (because there are almost no “evil” characters in Undertale”), Asgore walks a pretty thin line between love and hate depending on the moral values you as a player have, and how much would you be willing to forgive.

But alright, who is Asgore then?

Asgore is a nice person, you can’t deny that. He’s kind and caring about the needs of others, he loves his family (or the memory of them), treats other with the outmost respect (even a baby Undyne attacking him for no good reason), and goes out of his way to do things for the benefit of his people (what kind of king would dress up as Santa and personally visit his subjects just to bring them joy? WHO DOES THAT? Certanly not our Toriel, she has people who do that job for her). He’s emotional and sensitive, prone to take bad desitions when under stress, and then quickly regrets and blames nobody but himself for the results. He’s a big, fluffy, sensible monsters with a kind and caring soul.

But, he also has very defined flaws. One, namely: he is a coward.

Now, you may believe that Asgore’s actions were solely for the good of his people, and you are entitled to your opinion too, but it looks to me that the force behind most of his actions was not a sense of selfless sacrifice, but fear. Asgore was willing to endure emotional pain and even lose the love of his life in order to keep the hope of their people alive, yes, but you have to consider that at the moment he took that desition, keeping up his promise of war was the easy way out. He was scared, once the words were out and monsters had a visible positive reaction about the whole thing, that if he were to go back on his word he wouldn’t be able to give his people anything that could replace it. Even when he regreted his choice, and even when Toriel loudly dissaproved, bearing the weight of that declaration and sticking to the plan was still infinitely easier than facing the consecuences of his explosion of anger and trying to find an alternative that felt right and could fail. His was not the sacrifice of a leader who did what needed to be done at the cost of his happiness, but of a broken father who lost control after being overwhelmed by his loss and was too afraid to change the way things seemed to patch themselves up.

When they finally see each other in the pacifist ending, Toriel pretty much spells it out:

And some may think this means Toriel is actually ok with the idea of killing humans, but not with killing them if it’s not absolutely necessary, and I respectfully disagree: She is still very much against killing people for any reason. What she was trying to say to Asgore is a lot more direct: “You lied to everybody, and to yourself, because you were too scared to face the full impact of your mistake”. And Asgore agrees with her. Were if not for his unplanned declaration of war, he never had the intention of leaving the Underground in the first place, and Gerson tells you just that in the genocide run:

Asgore didn’t want to lead his people to an unavoidable end in the surface, and he didn’t want to have to kill children for it, but he also didn’t want to take away the hope that his declaration unadvertedly provoqued and believed he wouldn’t be able to provide his people with a better alternative. His cowardice was what kept him indecisive and stopped him from commiting to any path, leaving him as Toriel said, “meekly hoping” that he would never be forced to choose.

And THAT is exactly why I love him so much: He is the embodiment of dichotomy, his inner conflict is majestic, and his flaws are real and relatable. Who has never gone through a situation in which they were trapped between a rock and a hard place, hating the situation but too afraid to try to do something and make things worse? Asgore goes through this and reacts in such a (ironically) human way to it. He bears his guilt and his fear but keeps going, not because he wants to, but because a whole race is expecting him to, because the will of his people pushes him in that direction and he is afraid of what may happen if he pushes back. “King Asgore will let us go” “King Asgore will give us hope” “KING ASGORE WILL SAVE US ALL”. How many times did those words go through his head again and again while he fought and killed those children? Did they give him strengh, or did he feel like a man drowning under them?

But… all the empathy in the world can’t change the fact that he still killed those kids. “Cool motive, still murder” applies to everybody no matter the circumstances, and even though I myself can forgive his actions, that doesn’t mean everybody can, or should. As I said, the way you as a player see Asgore depends on your morality, on what you place more importance to, and in how much you are willing to forgive. There are people who can relate to being overwhelmed by a situation that seems out of your control, and they will be more inclined to take Asgore’s side. But there are also people with a strong sense of morality, who they themselves would die rather than going down a path they know is wrong and they don’t believe in, and those people, like Toriel, would find it a lot harder to give Asgore a second chance, because that’s who they are… and that, my friend, is perfectly understandable too. Forgiveness is a gift, not an obligation.

… And that’s it, because this wall of text is HUGE just with Asgore alone. I wanted to say more about his relationship with Toriel, why I think she would never be able to fully forgive him, and talk a bit about HER flaws too (since she’s my favorite character and I have her flaws more present than anybody’s else). I also wanted to talk about how this traslates to our version of Underswap since this is still an Underswap blog but… seriously, these are a lot of words already.

Maybe later, if you guys are not bored of me talking by then.

- Poisond

Which Exercises Burn The Most Calories (And Fat)

Losing weight safely and effectively is a combination of eating fewer (and healthier) calories and burning more calories through exercise. You can work harder and longer to burn more calories, spending hours on the treadmill or stationary bike, or you can work smarter and choose
​ - exercises that burn the most calories in the exercises that give you more ​bang for the buck
shortest amount of time like:
● Walking​- Brisk walking burns about 300-400 Calories Per Hour and is always a good
place to start your fitness training, all you need is a good pair of comfortable shoes.
● Running​- Running burns the same number of calories as walking, but in half the time at
around 600 Calories Per Hour. Get better shoes designed for running to prevent injuries. ● Cycling​- Stationary or on a course or track, cycling also burns around 600 Calories Per
Hour with less impact than running.
● Rowing​- Using a quality rowing machine with a fan blade resistance burns around 800 Calories Per Hour. If you have ever tried an extended set on the rower, you can vouch for the intensity and calorie burning based on the amount of sweat alone. Bring a towel. ● Swimming​- Swimming is another low impact, full body workout that burns around 600
Calories Per Hour as it engages all of your big muscles and muscle groups.
● Jumping Rope​- Not the kiddie kind but the boxing training kind of rope and speed drills burns Over 1000 Calories Per Hour. It is the cheapest exercise to begin as a good “speed rope” costs around 10 USD. The down side is your skill level, the massive calorie burn comes with extended CONTINUOUS sets or sessions. If you must start and stop frequently it is not as effective. But if you stick with it and start over every time you misstep, you will soon be burning the fat. Very few exercises burn 166 calories every 10 minutes. You CAN jump rope in 10 minute blocks spread throughout your day with much the same benefit.
● CrossFit​- Crossfit calories vary by your WOD, but average 260 per 20 minute session
or 780 calories per hour.
● Interval, Tabata or HIIT​- These types of timed interval training involve short periods of intense exercise for X time followed by 2X or 3X time of less intense recovery exercise and then start over again. A simple example would be runners who do sprint training - they sprint full speed for one lap, but then immediately jog for 2 laps or 3 laps. These type of varying intensity, continuous training programs burn in excess of 1000 calories per hour BUT, it will be a long time building your strength and stamina to achieve 60 minutes of interval training.
Conclusions​- The best calorie burn comes from the highest intensity exercises like intervals or rope jumping but are difficult to maintain for any length of time as a beginner. If you have access to a gym or cardio equipment like a rowing machine, treadmill or stair stepper, consider your own fitness program, bring a jump rope and perform 5 or more minutes on each piece of equipment followed by rope jumping and continue from machine or activity to the next without stopping. You will NOT get bored (you won’t have time to) and you will get very close to that magic 1000 calories burned!

It kind of makes me sad that the tmnt 2012 series is ending. Of course most series in the past were good, but this one truly captured the full emotion in situations, whilst still providing comedic relief where it was due.

This new tmnt 2018 series is meant to be more lighthearted, how ever this does bring concerns to me. I don’t want to see my favorite show transformed into a teen titans go mimicry. Especially not after saying goodbye to the original teen titans not too long ago.

All I’m saying, is that shows can’t constantly become the exact thing a large amount of the audience dislikes. We need to connect to the characters emotionally, so that we can let the show have full impact.

I’m a tmnt fan till the end, no matter what direction it goes in. But I truly hope the dark path of dumbing shows down, doesn’t claim it’s next victim…

Victor and Grief/Loss as it Applies to his Career

After episodes 10-12 we finally got a really good look into Victor’s thought process and I’d like to talk about a portion of it. Specifically regarding his experience with grief and the loss of his career/the life he’d known up until the start of the show.

Victor’s whole life has been about skating. It’s all he’s ever known. He himself has admitted that it’s not until he gets away from the skating that he’s able to evaluate the bigger picture, what life and love means for him. But just because he’s found new purpose in Yuuri does not mean that he doesn’t grieve the loss of the life he’s known up until now.

After episode 12 you’re probably thinking, “but hey, he goes back to competitive skating in the end. So what was he grieving if he was planning that all along?” What I will attempt to prove with this meta is that Victor actually goes through the entire grieving process before episode 12. Please give me a listen and I’ll show you what I mean! (The rest is under the cut due to length and images.)

Keep reading

The Dynamic is the golden thread thing. Like it’s the thing that you realize connects all your favorite stories, and full impact is seeing that you’ve been consuming it for decades without knowing. It’s full-on terrifying

anonymous asked:

what are some of your favorite poems your friends have written?

rockstarspudxx  asked:

ZSJ's reaction to you stealing his leather jacket and wearing it into the ring? (It could be in a match against him or not. You can decide) (:

i love thissss. gonna take a little creative liberty with it though….

Originally posted by wrestlingsmarkmatty

“Leadeeerrrs! Leadeeerrrs! Leadeeerrrs!”

You made a face as the Progress faithful screamed for the recently reunited Leaders of the New School, Marty Scurll and Zack Sabre Jr. Tonight was going to be… interesting to say the least. You’d been with the London Riots through thick and thin, even that dark period with Havoc. Hell, you still had the scars on your back from Chapter 20. Titles, no titles, it didn’t matter. You’d been there since the beginning. 

Which brought us to the tag team tournament for the number one contendership, It was the quarterfinals and a blind bracket, so the world would have to forgive you for looking like you swallowed a lemon when the LDRS music hit. It was nothing against Rob or James, but any team that had Zack Sabre Jr. was already going to be an odds on favorite.

You’d never admit to anyone either, but Zack made your heart rate do some interesting things and he’d had that effect on since you’d set foot in Progress five years ago. There were some instances over the course of those five years where you felt that maybe, just maybe, you had that same effect on the much taller man, but you just figured that it was your own infatuation coloring perfectly innocent actions.

Like just now, as the LDRS were being introduced by Jim Smallman, Zack was staring me down, instead of Rob or James, a teasing look set on his face. It had been a solid year since you’d seen him last and you’d thought you’d outgrown the infatuation, but given the flip flops your stomach just did, you were wrong.

There was no time to read into it however, the bell ringing all too soon to signal the start of the match. You shook your head to clear your thoughts and slid out of the ring. You, Rob, and James were a well oiled machine, a single cohesive unit, and there was no need for prematch discussions. 

Any other match, you would have been involved from the jump, distracting the ref, taking cheap shots at opponents, and just generally making a nuisance of yourself. This one, however, was different because of how well all parties involved knew each other. If you so much as made a motion to get onto the apron, Marty would whirl around, with a finger waved angrily, and shout, “Oh no you don’t, devil woman!”

You’d back off, hands raised in surrender, as the crowd would begin a devil woman chant. Zack give a tut-tut, shaking his head and looking genuinely amused. You’d let your guard down this match, which turned out to be a mistake. 

You’d turned away from the match for just a moment or two, enough time to say a couple words to a fan, when you were hit from behind and pushed into the laps of the front row. Who all had very, very full cups of beer.

The impact from behind stunned you momentarily, but it was the sudden chill that came with being doused in liquids made you squeal. The shock wore off quickly and you quickly righted yourself, whirling with a growl on your lips. Rob was on the ground, looking apologetic and grasping his jaw, and Marty was on the apron, looking eerily like a deer in the headlights with his hands up in a placating manner. 

“You fucked up! You fucked up! You fucked up!”

Zack facepalmed, but even his eyes traveled to your chest and the way the beer soaked t-shirt began to cling to your shape. You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to keep in some body warmth and in an instinctual attempt to shield yourself from the lanky man’s suddenly heated gaze. His eyes were almost a physical caress and you could feel the flush spreading from the roots of your hair down past the neckline of your Riot Protection Agency shirt.

You lunged forward to take a swipe at Marty, but the villain danced out of your reach. Paz, the referee, leaned through the ropes to admonish you for so blatantly trying to get involved in the match. You scowled, through the slightest of shivers set in due to your beer soaked shirt. This match was going to be miserable with you shaking like soaked kitten.

And then, it was like a light bulb went off in your head.

Just a few feet away, a member of the ring crew was standing there innocently enough, with Zack’s Union Jack jacket in hand. The chill was starting to sink into your bones and to be perfectly honest, you’d been itching for years to try it on. Five long strides and a well placed glare, and you were surrounded by the warmth of the jacket and something that just smelled like Zack. 

The crowd roared and you could hear the movement behind you in the ring stop. You turned around and were met with the sight of a shellshocked Zack leaning against the ropes, his eyes dark and his mouth slightly agape. His expression sent a curl of feminine satisfaction through your body and you gave a flirtatious shrug. Zack quickly wet his lips, god did that do things for you, and opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by James rolling him up in attempt to get a quick pin.

The match continued, but the flush didn’t leave your cheeks. The jacket was deceptively big, the hem brushing just a couple inches before your knee caps and smelling strongly of what had to be your new favorite cologne. Zack was visibly distracted by you at ringside and Marty was irritated beyond all belief by it. The situation quickly devolved into a shouting match between the Leaders in the middle of the ring. 

And then all hell broke loose. 

Rob and James struck the bickering pair with matching forearms, setting up a brawl in the middle of the ring. Paz did his best to try to split the four men, before giving up once it was clear that this was just going to have to happen. James and Marty eventually spilled to the outside, trading clubbing blows to raucous shouts from the front row. In the ring, Zack had somehow locked in the flying octopus hold and you darted around the right to yell encouragement to Rob.

“I bet you’d look better with just the jacket on, luv!”

A chorus of boos rained down on the clearly drunk man in the audience. Zack’s head snapped toward the audience member that had cat called you, Rob still caught in the flying octopus hold, and angrily barked back at the catcaller.

“Get your eyes back in your head mate! Y’don’t talk to her like that!”

You didn’t catch what the drunk said back, but Zack did. His jaw clenched so tightly you could see the muscles tic and he released the hold on Rob, who collapsed to the mat. You blinked and Zack was out of the ring, getting into the audience member’s face.

“Fuck him up Sabre fuck him up! Fuck him up Sabre fuck him up!”

What possessed you to get between the two angry men, who knows, but you found yourself between Zack and the drunk fan, security on your heels. You had placed yourself bodily between the two, your hands braced and pushing against the tall man’s chest in a vain attempt to get distance between the two men.

“C’mon Sabre, it’s not a big deal. I’ve dealt with worse.”

Your attempt placating Zack was not well received, the implication of your words making his face even redder as he advanced threateningly towards the drunk fan, who was being escorted out by security. That’s when you noticed how… close the two of you were and you froze up.

There was scant inches between the two of you, the heat of his body seeping into yours. The muscles in his deceptively strong chest, jumping under your hands. The way his hazel-brown eyes darted down to your mouth and then back up to your eyes. The electricity crackling between the two of you was palpable and there was this feeling of “Finally!” settling into your bones.

“C’mon man! Kiss the girl!”

The crowd laughed, but then it spread through the crowd like wildfire.

Don’t stop now
Don’t try to hide it how
You want to kiss the girl
Sha la la la la la
Float along
And listen to the song
The song say kiss the girl

You spluttered at the sudden outbreak of a Disney singalong, but he wasn’t phased in the slightest, leaning downward with half-lidded eyes. You tilted your head up to meet his mouth halfway and just as your lips whispered along his…

“For fucks sake! A little help here Zack! Snog her later!”

Marty was screeching in the ring, trying to fend off both Rob and James.

Zack quickly snapped to, looking a little torn between ignoring his friend and tag team partner and helping him. That split second gave you some time to collect yourself and you wiggled out of the grasp he had somehow secured around your waist. You patted him on the cheek and winked saucily.

“C’mon, Sabre. We can discuss whatever this was after you’ve lost your match.”

Zack threw his head back and returned to the ring. 

God you hoped that neither the cameras nor the crowd caught the way your suddenly weak knees wobbled.