into the wayside

anonymous asked:

Paul Wesley seemed really checked out the last few seasons of the series and sounded less than enthused about the series even when interviewed. Do you think he shared some of the disappointments as many fans, or was he just bored?!

I think Paul likes good material and I’m not saying the others don’t but once the material goes to the wayside then his respect plummets

and I just felt like until he was given a scene or a plot line that he cared about, he was just going to cruise.

alkja  asked:

I think the problem is not whether a character is sympathetic or nor, it's whether the creators want us to feel sympathy for them. Throughout the prequels Padme is clearly meant to be seen as deeply sympathetic, a good person, a symbol of justice and democracy. Except she fucks up BIG. The blasè attitude to a massacre with child killing. Wanting her cake (the marriage) and eat it too (her and Anakin's positions) with subsequent deception. [cont]

The inability to keep personal and professional lives apart. Chucking rules and vows by the wayside when non convenient (keeping quiet about Anakin’s massacre). Being willing to put her personal shit before the general good - look, when your husband muders a huge building full of the people who raised him and goes child killing FOR THE SECOND TIME your first reaction should not be to rush to him and ask him to run away with you as though he just went on a drunken bender. [cont]

That doesn’t mean Padme is a bad person. She’s human and she massively fucks up. Yet canon doesn’t really acknowledge this and we’re just expected to view her as a saintly paragon of grace and beacon of democracy mostly because those decisions were functional to the story Lucas wanted to tell and so he never thought about how they would reflect on Padme’s character - mostly because to him Padme was less a character and more Anakin’s Love Interest & Future Mother Of The Twins. [cont]

The fact that those fuckups were never really addressed can lead to some people (myself among them) to react with not much sympathy to Padme’s plight, which is made more complicated by the fact that Padme is the only female protag in the prequels and we really want to like her. So, writers who bravely attempt to address the canon mess have to make her face those screwups and bring them to light when previously they were swept under a rug and that can be very uncomfortable for everyone. [cont]

You cannot make Padme a callous monster, because that’s just not who she is. But the moment you have those things in the open you have to admit that she did fuck up big and that can have people frustrated with canon take the “cry me a river” route. It’s a balancing act that has to deal with a canonical mess made of a complicated character. All this rant to say, we have to work with what we have and having to deal with that you did a good job. [cont]

She fucked up and here she is admitting at least part of it. Possibly there will be consequences and personal growth (I hope). How we deal with it is up to us, but you did what you meant to do and did it pretty damn well too. It’s certainly more than we got in canon and we can only be thankful you wrote it.

I mean, there are a lot of questionable writing choices in the PT… and some in the OT… and a lot in the CW cartoon… Just… A lot of questionable writing choices, really. :’I

Thank you, I do my best to portray nuanced characters. 

anonymous asked:

When are you going to start writing again? I hope you are okay!!

Short Answer: Yes.

Long Answer:

Aw- this kinda makes me sad, actually. Not because you sent it in, but because my absence has been noticed, and I feel guilty. Long story short, yes, I intend on to keep on writing for this blog- I never had doubt on that, but life has just been busy, and I know you all have heard this excuse before, but it’s the only one I have. There’s just a lot going on right now with me and I just have so much that something has to fall by the wayside, and this is the least detrimental thing that I can slack on. I know that sounds terrible and like I don’t care about you all, but I graduate in two months and I need to get A’s in everything to ensure my scholarships and program placement for the fall. And on top of that I still work full time, do scientific research that requires travel, and I’m building my pre med resume by shadowing and volunteering and trying to get into a CNA program this summer, etc.. 4 out of the 7 days of the week, I leave my house at 4:45 am and then don’t get back until after 11pm- and it’s all work/school/not fun things, so I get home and I just pass out from exhaustion. All of that, plus I had some health issues with being lightheaded and my temperature dropping, so I’m pretty much doing the work of 2 ½ people on maybe 65% of my normal energy.

I know, this is just complaining, but I want this stage of my life to be over right now- I’m ready to be solely in school and not working and overexerting myself. Right now, it’s at a point where I’m lucky if I get five minutes to eat a banana- it’s that busy and I’m about to hit my threshold. Jk, I hit it when I passed out at the doctors from overexertion.

I thought spring break would give me some time to write, but I ended up working almost 50 hours in four days and then I had to travel over sixteen hours in a two day period without really any rest and I still had to create this 50 page lab manual, so nothing really got done- at all.

I’m just sorry, guys. I really am. But I’m going to try and get something written tonight. I really like the asks in the ask box right now, and I want to write them- it’s just finding 30 minutes to sit down and write it. I’ll try- I really will.

Also, I heard today was the last episode of the anime, so that’s sad…

BUT I SAW THE END CREDITS HAD KAKASHI WITH A KID??? IS THIS TRUE??

IF THIS CHILD IS UNNAMED, I’M GONNA SAY THAT HE’S THE FUTURE TEEN HATAKE AND NO ONE CAN STOP ME.

Anything regarding Sanvers in 2B of Supergirl? — Ellen
Though there are a few bumps in the road ahead, Supergirl is truly investing in the Alex and Maggie dynamic. “The important thing is that we’re committed to this relationship and we’re committed to seeing it grow, change, blossom, and struggle, but also get stronger, deeper and more loving as we go forward,” EP Andrew Kreisberg says. “I don’t think people need to worry that suddenly this relationship is going to go by the wayside. It’s going to have it’s ups and downs, but we’re committed to Alex and Maggie — we’re as committed to Alex and Maggie as the audience is.”

(source)

Take care of yourself.

I tell you guys this all the darn time, but it’s worth saying again.

Take care of yourself. Take care of yourself because you only get one body. Take care of yourself because you deserve it.

Exercise.

Drink water.

Eat right.

Wash your face.

Clean your room.

Plan your week.

Seriously, do all this shit. Don’t let all the little things fall by the wayside.

i love villains so much. i love dramatic redemption shit, i love gradual redemption by way of the “yeah he used to be our sworn enemy but now he just kind of… hangs out with us,”  and i love the complete opposite where the baddie gets completely fucking obliterated by the protagonists and it reveals how deeply pathetic/insecure they are AND/OR it drives them way, way off the deep end of evil, civility and Lines They Previously Wouldn’t Cross abandoned by the wayside as they Totally Lose Their Shit. i especially love all variations of these where it centers on the villain having a Weird Fixation with the hero particularly if there are fucked-up makeouts but i’m not picky

i love villains

Uranus in the First- I revitalise myself time and time again, a wayward persona. 

Uranus in the Second- I defy materialist values, finding magic in tearing them apart.

Uranus in the Third- The walls of the classroom never could contain me, I broke the window and climbed out.

Uranus in the Fourth- I come from the weird, the eccentric, the rebels and the disruptive. 

Uranus in the Fifth- My art causes controversy, it cracks open the experiences of others.

Uranus in the Sixth- The little things fall by the wayside, order and routine evade me.

Uranus in the Seventh- I fall for those that live like a lightning strike.

Uranus in the Eighth- I stuck out my tongue and waved the grim reaper away. I escaped him again.

Uranus in the Ninth- I didn’t find my way in scripture, in books, in temples and in school. I found it by myself.

Uranus in the Tenth- I defy the way things are now, and I want others to do the same.

Uranus in the Eleventh- I don’t “fit in” exactly, but I find my kindred spirits in the ones that don’t either.

Uranus in the Twelfth- My innovation comes in seclusion, when I am at my most vulnerable.

2016 is a liminal space. 

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, google liminal spaces and come back to me. 

Let’s start again: 2016 is a liminal space. 

It’s that time between two clearly defined things. Usually, these spaces are physical: rest stops, bus stations, gas stations, that one clearing in the forest that makes you feel like you’re in your backyard and a thousand miles away in your favorite book. We are on the cusp of a new era, politically, socially, perhaps economically. Even religiously, there is a push for change. Nothing will remain the same after this year. 

2016 is a liminal space. You feel it, I know you do. The whole year has a feel of weird otherness about it: who let these people become candidates for the presidency? What happens to the cares of the previous year? Ebola, Zika, they’ve all fallen to the wayside. The biggest societal concern of 2016 is killer clowns. Again, 2016 is a liminal space. 

It feels as though any moment we could wake up from a dream. As though this year is just too bizarre for it to be real. In the same way that local 24-hour diners have an otherworldly aesthetic and ambiance, 2016 is the year that everything was just a bit off. 

Things that never got resolved on Penny Dreadful

•The Egyptian connection: we never found out anything more specific about whether or not Vanessa is the reincarnation of Amunet. And if she is, who is Amun-Ra, the Serpent Prince? Is that Lucifer? Dracula? Both? And why were the Master Vampires in Season 1 covered in an exoskeleton of hieroglyphics? Why didn’t they make a return with Dracula in season 3?
•Ethan/Dorian: what was the point of their tryst if we didn’t have any follow-up to it? Ethan’s bisexuality became purely incidental and his relationship with Dorian fell by the wayside.
•Ethan/Brona: Ethan never found out that Victor brought Brona back to life. Ever. He never even met Lily. What wasted potential that was.
•Victor Frankenstein: the whole “family” never even found out that Victor created life. Not one of them.
•The Cut-Wife connection: or lack thereof. Did we only mention Joan Clayton because they wanted to cast Patti Lupone as Dr. Seward? Was she really a distant relation? Why couldn’t she have been connected in a more meaningful way beyond being another hard-ass mentor for Vanessa?
•Dr. Jekyll: why, oh why, did we bother introducing Dr. Jekyll without releasing Hyde. Casting an actor of color as Jekyll was a great choice but then he didn’t have any character development. He might as well have been called “Igor” for serving the story really just as Victor’s lab assistant. Also, we all saw the looks Henry threw at Victor in the first episode. There was definitive sexual chemistry and possibly history that did not get to be explored.
•Catriona Hartdegan: Just why? What was the point of having this female, cross-dressing thanatologist? Ferdinand Lyle could have provided the same information that she supplied Vanessa with. And her character had no motivations outside of her relationship with Vanessa. Wasted potential. She could have been a potential love interest for Vanessa or a friend. Instead she was just convenient.
•Dracula: when Renfield turned around to behold Dracula in all his unholy glory at the end of the first episode, we knew that Dracula had a form that was more terrifying than that of Alexander Sweet. We were robbed of seeing what that looked like.

•Dorian: how did Dorian become immortal? Why is this still vague? Where did the painting come from? In the Oscar Wilde novel, the supernatural elements are purposefully vague and it works. But when you take that character and put him into a world that has a mythology of its own that could plausibly explain the supernatural nature of the character and then you don’t choose to take advantage of that, then it doesn’t work. We needed to know where he came from, how long he’s been alive, how the painting came about, and why.

because i’m the biggest sucker for cliché soulmate aus. i was actually going to write this, but i’m consumed by writing the tfc hellbeast au (all @hopingforcoordinates fault) and it’s fallen by the wayside. so here’s the bulletpoint outline version!  

  • neil has encountered thirteen andrews before meeting andrew minyard
  • the first three had been back when he lived in baltimore. none of them had nathaniel on their wrist to match his andrew
  • after they started running, his mother orders him to never tell anyone his real name. he is not nathaniel anymore, he is alex, he is stefan, he is chris
  • and in the back of his mind, the only part not consumed by fear of his father and his mother’s orders and the urge to run and never look back, he wonders how his andrew will know him
  • he doesn’t meet an andrew during their time in england, his first time being someone other than nathaniel. he isn’t sure whether or not he’s grateful for that.
  • in fact, he doesn’t meet another andrew until his time in germany. this andrew is an american exchange student, a friendly, nice boy who spends most of his time playing soccer and trying to convince older students to buy him beer
  • after five weeks in the same class as this andrew, he can’t take it anymore and asks to speak to him after class. quietly says that he goes by his middle name, but his first is nathaniel, and there is an andrew on his wrist.
  • this andrew nods in understanding, but pulls the band up his wrist to show emma written there in gently looping handwriting
  • he smiles understandingly at not-his-andrew, who claps him on the back and assures him that he’ll find his andrew soon.
  • (he does not tell not-andrew to keep his true first name a secret. he’s only been running a few years, but he knows secrets attract attention more than anything else.)
  • (this is a mistake.)
  • because this andrew is a friendly, nice boy, and goes out of his way to include him in his activities from then on, calling his name – not his current one, but nathaniel, loud and so, so friendly across the classroom. soon enough it catches on with their classmates, and nathaniel, terrified of admitting his mistake, does not tell his mother
  • (he asks this andrew to stop calling him nathaniel – he really does prefer his middle name, and nathaniel is such a mouthful, i hate it – but andrew points out, laughing, that he can’t find his andrew if he’s always going by his middle name. ‘i’m not supposed to’ is not an acceptable answer he can give, is not a normal answer, is an answer that would attract too much attention, and so he’s forced to drop the matter)
  • his mother finds out anyways, at a parent-teacher conference two and a half weeks after his talk with not-his-andrew
  • when she gets home, she grabs him by the hair and beats him more badly than she ever has before
  • they’re gone that evening
  • there are nine more andrews after that, all but one in the states, but he’s learned his lesson by then. none of them know he might be theirs.
  • (he doesn’t dare write it down, doesn’t speak a word of it out loud, but he remembers every single one of their last names and where they’re from. andrew carson in colorado, with eyes so blue they almost matched the ones hidden behind his contacts. andrew derouen in louisiana, who had expressive hands and an easy laugh. andrew martinez in texas, who was at the top of all of his classes. he knows he will never know if any of them are his andrew, so he remembers them all, hoards his memories of them jealously. maybe, a tiny voice inside his head whispers, maybe someday. but he doesn’t let it get any further than that. he can’t afford hope.)
  • and then someone slams a racquet into his gut so hard he falls to the ground, and he doesn’t need an introduction to recognize andrew minyard
  • and neil has nine andrews who could be his in his scattered past, but there’s no way this psychotic midget, whose wide grin isn’t nearly enough to hide the violence ingrained in him, is his andrew.
  • and most of canon proceeds the same, down to neil whispering nathaniel to andrew in an airport
  • and andrew, andrew who views his feelings for neil with nothing but dread, andrew who is scrabbling for a handhold at the edge of a cliff, andrew who hasn’t even begun to grasp how to feel again, andrew who doesn’t believe in fate
  • andrew keeps his face blank and says nothing
  • and if his pulse ticks up even more, well, it’s just because he’s about to get on a plane
  • and neil watches andrew carefully, waiting (and perhaps hoping) for a reaction, a flicker of eyes to the wrist, a glimmer of interest. but he sees nothing, and takes it as confirmation that andrew is not his andrew (and when had he started believing that he could be?)
  • so their lives continue on
  • cue the binghamton game
  • and after it’s over, after lola’s threat, neil stands before andrew and lets go of the other nine andrews in his memory. lets himself forget the names and places. he wants to tell andrew that it doesn’t matter that they’re not matched, that he is the only andrew who ever mattered, that whatever other andrew with nathaniel on their wrist could come up to him right now and he wouldn’t care, because the andrew on neil’s wrist will always be for the man in front of him
  • but he can’t say that, can’t say anything unusual when andrew can already tell there’s something wrong just by the set of neil’s shoulders and the look in his eyes
  • so he settles for “thank you. you were amazing.”
  • “leave nathaniel buried in baltimore with his father,” andrew says after it’s all over, his shoulders brushing neil’s in the backseat of browning’s SUV
  • “neil abram josten” neil murmurs in return
  • and though no one will see it for hours, underneath a black armband, a name changes
And the Heavens Wept

Gather around my children and you shall hear of the most terrible, most implacable, most improbable friends ever met by our people. They came from the third planet of a tiny system, surrounded by desolate space. Not one sentient species for hundreds of lightyears, and they managed to propel themselves into space.

We watched from afar as they developed slowly. We watched as they warred among themselves, brutal and savage. We watched as they rendered regions of their planet uninhabitable to themselves, a hardy species able to adapt to even the most hostile of environments. We watched as suddenly and without warning they united under four banners, the rest falling by the wayside. We watched as they expanded into what we had begun to use as a buffer zone, to allow these humans to burn themselves out in.

But they did not burn themselves out. Despite their warring among themselves. Harsh people. Humankind is a race of warriors, do not be fooled by the eloquence of their diplomats. In their own words, “All diplomacy is a continuation of war by other means”. Their greatest artists and philosophers were born from blood and conflict. I had the privilege once to view a painting by one Pablo Picasso, entitled Guernica. It was a savage piece, with not a drop of color. It showed the horrors of war, and the irony of it all was that the painting hung in the office of one of humankind’s generals.

It was sudden, when they burst from the containment zone. When they realized they were not alone. And we, with heavy hearts, prepared to fight them bitterly and to the last. Imagine then, our surprise when humanity embraced us among the stars as long lost brothers. They were overjoyed to discover they were not alone in the darkness. Despite their brutal and warlike culture, despite their glorification of death and violence, their people do not seek out combat. An ancient general of theirs once put it thusly “Although a soldier by profession, I have never felt any sort of fondness for war, and I have never advocated it, except as a means of peace”.

For centuries humanity worked to better itself. They unified under a single Interstellar Empire, the Empire of Man, the Human Empire, however you called it. They enjoyed art and music. They became leisurely at home, exploratory in the field. Their weapons of war were long gone, beaten into plowshares as they say. Humanity was finally at peace. There was no conflict among them, a few border skirmishes for certain, and they kept a small standing military, but nothing more than that. We considered them domesticated.

At first we were surprised at their transformation, then overjoyed. We welcomed them into the fold of the cosmos, embraced them as they would embrace us. We thought we knew humanity then, that we had seen them at their best and their worst. We were wrong, so very wrong. We did not truly understand humanity until the Texar-Hakara came into the void between the stars.

Seemingly more brutal, more bloodthirsty than even the humans, they swept into our region of space like conquerors. They smashed whatever feeble resistance the Yungling managed to put up, took their planets, enslaved the survivors, and pressed on. The Junti were next, utterly destroyed. The four great races left, ourselves, the Itaxa, the Kukrama, and the Illnaa, banded together to try and stop them. In our arrogance, we did not include the humans in our pact. Too few in number, too weak in frame, too backwards in technology we thought.

The Texar-Hakara hit our borders like the great wave that sweeps life from the beach. We hardened our hearts and prepared for the worst. Seeming without pause they crushed our border defenses. They obliterated the first fleets we sent to them. The Itaxa fell to the Texar-Hakara, enslaved, killed, scattered to the corners of the galaxy. Then the humans sent us an offer, a request really. They asked to fight alongside us.

Bemused, we accepted. What else could we do? Deny them the right to fight with us for their very survival? We thought to assign them as rearguards, to ferry our people to safety after our fleets fell. We thought wrong.

Humanity swept into the stars with a fury unmatched by any other. Their fleets were not the heaviest. Their guns not the most accurate. Their soldiers however. Their sailors. Their warriors were unmatched by any others in the cosmos. I remember the first battle in which the humans fought the Texar-Hakara like it was but a single solar cycle ago. Our forces were on the brink of breaking and fleeing. Our ships were gutted ruins. Our fighters exhausted and out of missiles. Then humanity fell upon the flank of the enemy, and the full force of the Human Empire was unleashed in a single moment of utter fury. Landing craft spat across the distance in an instant, slamming into enemy hulls and disgorging humanity’s greatest weapon, their Marines. In close combat humanity is unstoppable, and so they took the vast distances of space combat out of the equation.

Their ships belched fire and plasma. Lasers crossed the vast distances in the blink of an eye. Half the Texar-Hakaran fleet was obliterated in minutes. The other half turned to face this new enemy, only to be wracked by internal explosions as the Marines did their work. Their greatest ships turned on the rest of the fleet, a handful of humans holding the bridge against waves of enemy attackers to turn the tide of battle.

The Interstellar War came to a screeching turnaround. The advance of the Texar-Hakara halted, like it had hit an immovable wall. In many ways that is what humanity is, an immovable, implacable wall. Then, with the ferocity humanity is alone capable of, they routed the Texar-Hakara. Not from that lone battle. They pushed them out of Itaxa space, liberating the slaves. The space of the Junti and the Yungling was swept clear of invaders. Then the Texar-Hakara committed the gravest of sins in humanity’s eyes. They warped a fleet to Earth, jewel of humanity’s empire. They burned that blue and green world. They destroyed it, and the trillion people it housed.

Humanity is a forgiving race my children. Even their most terrible of wars have resulted in lasting friendships between nations. When they left millions dead and broken on the muddly fields of their world, they rebuilt the aggressors. They raised them from the mud, dusted them off, and welcomed them back into the fold. But there is one thing that humanity cannot, will not, tolerate. It is abhorrent to them my children. To strike at their home, to strike where they raise their young ones. Where they leave their mates and non combatants. To strike there is to raise the ire of the human race, truly.

Humanity raged. Their attempts at obtaining the surrender of the Texar-Hakara halted. The war turned from a righteous war of liberation to a furious and hateful war of retribution. We begged the humans to stop, to leave what few planets the Texar-Hakara had alone. Our pleas went unanswered for months, until a single human ambassador came to us. His face was cold and emotionless. He told us, in no uncertain terms, that the Texar-Hakara had doomed themselves and that any trying to aid them would suffer the same fate. Quietly we watched then, as humanity wiped the Texar-Hakara from the stars. The Texar-Hakara pleaded for mercy. They offered their unconditional surrender. They came to us and begged on bent knee for us to reign in the mad dogs we had unwittingly unleashed into the universe. Humanity had for so long repressed their warrior culture. Tried to become better. Then we had given them back into the fires of war, and humanity had awakened it’s warrior past.

The Texar-Hakara ambassadors were taken from our halls by grim human Marines and thrust out airlocks. Finally there was but one planet left, and we came to the humans, we pointed to our own losses, our own dead friends some of whom had lived for longer than humanity had been among the stars, and we begged the humans not to take the last of the Texar-Hakara’s lives.

I watched, children, I watched as the Texar-Hakara’s world burned. As humanity left but one of their planets alive, a simple backwater colony of no more than ten million. Ten million, out of the trillions. Then the leader of the human military turned to me, and with no emotion in his voice, told me that humanity accepted the unconditional surrender of the Texar-Hakara, and walked off the bridge of my ship.

My children, the lesson here is that a warrior past is never truly gone. Only buried, mayhaps even wiped from living memory. But gone? Never. Humanity showed us that.

“If you are a student you should always get a good nights sleep unless you have come to the good part of your book, and then you should stay up all night and let your schoolwork fall by the wayside, a phrase which means ‘flunk’.”

Lemony Snicket
2

(re)read in 2017 → the austere academy (lemony snicket)

as I’m sure you know, a good night’s sleep helps you perform well in school, and so if you are a student you should always get a good night’s sleep unless you have come to the good part of your book, and then you should stay up all night and let your schoolwork fall by the wayside, a phrase which here means ‘flunk’.

Julie: "Once we decided [Stefan's death], it felt so pure and right and we knew it was the road to go."

Stefan died in the most abhorrent, unnecessary, and cruel way possible. He died so Damon could life out his human fairytale with Elena.  In JP’s/KW's twisted minds they saw this is some sort of poetic redemption in making Damon turn in 1864 … but STEFAN needs to die for a selfish decision he made when he was just seventeen? This one choice needs to follow him around his entire life regardless of much he’s changed, cared, or worked to redeem himself  just ‘cause Damon must never be held responsible for anything?

This is not story-telling. This is complete character assassination. For years Stefan was slowly sliding to the wayside in favor of Damon, giving him all the story and essentially becoming a prop to his arcs/relationship with Elena. Stefan was losing agency more and more. By S8, it was all over for him. They went OUT OF THEIR WAY to portray Ripper Stefan as the “bad brother”, punishing him for killing Enzo while Damon got forgiven right away for killing Tyler and even had the fucking audacity to make Damon forgive HIM when’s Stefan’s been cleaning up after his brother’s messes basically his entire existence. In 8x16, he was the death. So shocked.

Damon should’ve been the death, not Stefan. Stefan might’ve forced him to turn, but everything after that was all Damon.  DAMON. MADE.HIS.OWN. CHOICES. He made the choice to be manipulative, evil, and torture others. He spent so much longer not giving a damn about anyone except himself while Stefan was battling bloodlust and trying to be good. Damon resented Stefan and blamed Katherine for who he was, never taking accountability for anything and when he finally did everyone else wouldn’t let him. Damon should’ve sacrificed himself for good like he tried to because then there would be accountability and his redemption story might’ve actually meant something. Instead they nerfed Stefan to appease the Damon fangirls/DE shippers and that’s just so dirty.

This is exactly what happens when a character gets too popular. The writers cater too much to the fans, disrupting focus on other characters and it RUINS THE SHOW. This has happened so many times before on other TV shows and TVD w/ Damon is by far the worst I’ve seen.

Our baby Stefan deserved so much better than sacrificing himself for a fuck-up of a brother who quite literally gave him an “eternity of misery”. KW/JP did a complete disservice to him and this show and I’ll never forgive them for it.

Let us all remember Stefan Salvatore. The selfless, noble, compassionate, self-flagellating hero who had such little value of himself he died thinking he didn’t deserve happiness and that Damon was the better man. He was precious and beautiful and this world these writers didn’t deserve him.

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Let's repeat this

Hillary Clinton does NOT care about women.

She USES women.

She USES WoC, she USES historically disenfranchised women, she USES female victims of rape and sexual assault, she USES disabled women, she USES mentally ill women, she USES trans women, she USES female veterans.

HILLARY CLINTON DOES NOT CARE ABOUT YOU. She is USING YOU to push her own political agenda. She will throw you to the wayside after she gets into office. She is a wolf in sheep’s clothing.