nearly the end of the world

4

Deirdre O’Callaghan went through no end of earplugs in the five years she spent shooting The Drum Thing. Her moody photos provide a glimpse into the studios and homes of nearly 100 drummers, from Lars Ulrich of Metallica to Jack White to French, who is perhaps best known for his work with Captain Beefheart. “I’m really interested in the personality who chooses to be the drummer,” O’Callaghan says. “They sit at the back, and yet they’re driving the music.”

READ MORE: Behind the scenes with the best drummers in the world.

10

the known world: places of mystery 

And so we come, nearly, to the end of the world.

                                      Or, at least, the end of our knowledge.

Easternmost and southernmost of the great cities of the known world, the ancient port of Asshai stands at the end of a long wedge of land, on the point where the Jade Sea meets the Saffron Straits. Its origins are lost in the mists of time. Even the Asshai'i do not claim to know who built their city; they will say only that a city has stood here since the world began and will stand here until it ends.

         - [The World of Ice and Fire - The Bones and Beyond: Asshai-by-the-Shadow]

Little Moments to Imagine Your OTP in

•Late night shopping trips in nearly abandoned stores to buy ridiculous things
•Flopping down on their hotel bed after a long day of traveling
•Laying in the grass while watching the clouds slowly drift by
•Sitting on the roof on a starry night while sharing a bottle of liquor and venting about their life problems
•Drawing loving designs on each other’s hands
•Holding hands and staring out as the world ends
•Walking home after it rains and jumping in every puddle they see
•Chewing bubblegum and having competitions to see who can blow the biggest bubble
•Climbing into trees and sitting up there together as they talk about random things
•Staring out the window of a coffee shop as it snows and sipping their drinks as they forget about all of their worries
•Person A lightly kissing Person B’s forehead as B falls asleep on A’s shoulder

people who label HxH as an average shonen have either only read/watched part of the hunter exam, or there exists a plethora of shonen series i am unaware of!!!!

like?!?!? there are barely any shonen series like hxh!!

do u know how rare it is to have a shonen protagonist who is not the “hero” in around 50% of the story???? and loses as much as gon does??

like breaking hxh down

hunter exam: ends with gon passing

heaven arena: ends with gon losing

phantom troupe: gon becomes more of a support character to kurapika

greed island: gon wins against main antagonist for once

chimera ant: gon and main antagonist never meet, and gon nearly loses his life taking out main antag’s special guard

election arc: gon is just not present

dark continent: gon is barely present

HxH is a great series because the world is huge and gon is only a smart part of it. events rarely revolve around him and that’s beautiful!!!!!

Thank you

Before this year ends, I want to thank you again for your support of our campaign. While we didn’t achieve the outcome we sought, I’m proud of the vision and values we fought for and the nearly 66 million people who voted for them.

I believe it is our responsibility to keep doing our part to build a better, stronger, and fairer future for our country and the world.

The holidays are a time to be thankful for our blessings. So let us rejoice in this season and look forward with renewed hope and determination.

I wish you and your family health, happiness, and continued strength for the New Year and the work ahead.

I look forward to staying in touch in 2017. Onward!

With deep appreciation and warm wishes, I am,

Yours,

Hillary

To tie up the loose strings of Fantastic Beasts, you have to dig back into old Harry Potter lore

THE TIMELINE AS WE KNOW IT:

There’s the film, set in New York, which is inspired by a Rowling’s short tie-in book of the same name. In both the film and the book, a young magizoologist (a wizard who studies magical creatures) named Newt Scamander is commissioned to write a fictional book, also named Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

The book is commissioned in 1918, at which point Newt begins traveling the world to do research for it. The Fantastic Beasts film is set in New York City, over the span of a few days in the late fall of 1926, some 65 years before the first Harry Potter book. Additionally, we know from recent tweets from J.K. Rowling that the five-film franchise will span a nearly twenty-year period, ending in 1945.

The first edition of Newt’s Fantastic Beasts book is published in 1927, a year after the events of the Fantastic Beasts movie. By the time of the Harry Potter novels, set in the 1990s, Scamander’s book is in its 52nd edition.

THE FANTASTIC BEASTS AND THE INEVITABLE DRAGONS:

The titular fantastic beasts are in many ways the stars of the show, just as much as the human wizards and Muggles. (I refuse to use the term “No-Maj.” Sorry, J.K. Rowling.) And while the first movie features a wide array of creatures from Rowling’s chapbook (along with some new ones added for the film), plenty more from the book have yet to appear.

One safe bet for the following films, would be an appearance from dragons — the undisputed kings of magical beasts. Given that Scamander is canonically known to have worked with the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau, it seems likely that he’ll run into a dragon or two at some point along the way.

THE LOVE STORY OF NEWT AND TINA:

When the movie concludes, Newt and his suitcase full of magical creatures depart from America, leaving behind Porpentina “Tina” Goldstein, an American MACUSA Auror whom Newt bonded with. Newt promises to return with a copy of his book once it’s printed (which we know will occur sometime in the near future given the timeline above).

We know from the real-world Fantastic Beasts book that the two eventually marry, and later retire to the English countryside. Following the events of the Harry Potter series, their grandson, Rolf Scamander, takes up his grandfather’s interest in magizoology and marries Luna Lovegood.

THE MISSING MOMENT OF NEWT SCAMANDER:

Scamander’s name is one of the classic Potter pun names — he wrote a book about animals, so of course the name is animal-inspired. Rowling really savors name puns. For example, Professor Septima Vector teaches the magic math of Arthimancy; Professor Pomona Sprout teaches Herbology; Remus Lupin — literally Wolf Wolf — is a werewolf.

But Scamander’s full name is actually Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, just short of topping the ridiculousness that is Professor Dumbledore’s full name: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

We know Scamander attended Hogwarts and was a member of Hufflepuff House. (He even sports a Hufflepuff scarf at the end of the movie.) It’s still up in the air whether Scamander graduated Hogwarts — the movie says he was expelled after a dangerous incident with a magical creature, but the original Fantastic Beasts chapbook claims he did graduate.

We also know that, after Hogwarts, Scamander worked as an employee of the Ministry of Magic in the Beast Division of Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, but we don’t exactly know where that fits in with his whereabouts during World War I. His brother, it seems, was a famous war hero — something we still know little about.

THE COMPLICATED BACKSTORY OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE:

Dumbledore doesn’t actually appear in Fantastic Beasts — he’s just referenced briefly — but he’s obviously a crucial figure in both general Potter lore and the upcoming movies. At the time of this film, Albus Dumbledore is a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But it’s Dumbledore’s relationship with Gellert Grindelwald — the antagonist of the Beasts series — that’s important.

The summer after Dumbledore graduated Hogwarts in 1899, the two bonded over a mutual frustration with the restrictions of the wizards by Muggles, and the existence of the International Statute of Secrecy that binds wizards to a hidden world. The pair obsessed over the legendary Deathly Hallows as a tool to overthrow the Muggle world and establish wizarding rule. However, the two disagreed, and an accident occurred, resulting in the death of Dumbledore’s sister Ariana. Grindelwald fled, and Dumbledore — feeling he couldn’t be trusted with power — retreated to a life of educating future wizards and witches.

But as Grindelwald’s threat grows over the Fantastic Beasts films, we know Dumbledore is ultimately forced to confront his former friend once and for all to decide the fate of the Elder Wand — one of the powerful Deathly Hallows — and the wizarding world. More on that in a moment.

GELLERT GRINDELWALD:

Grindelwald appears at the very beginning of Fantastic Beasts as he wipes out a team of Aurors sent to capture him. Then he reappears at the climax as the presumptive antagonist of the remaining Fantastic Beasts movies.

In the movie, his primary goal is to capture and weaponize an Obscurus, which the Fantastic Beasts movie shows us is a lethally destructive parasitic force that forms when magical children are forced to repress their magic while growing up. But fans know Grindelwald as one of the most dangerous Dark wizards ever mentioned in the series, considered second only to Voldemort himself. And while his time in Fantastic Beasts is relatively limited, we already know more about Grindelwald’s story than nearly anything else in the film.

At 16, he was expelled from Durmstrang Institute for “twisted experiments” in the Dark Arts. In 1899, Grindelwald visited his aunt and author of A History of Magic, Bathilda Bagshot, in the town of Godric’s Hollow — the town where the Dumbledore family lived, and later, the Potters.

It was in Godric’s Hollow that Grindelwald and Dumbledore began their plans to collect the Deathly Hallows and overthrow the Muggle world “For the Greater Good,” a phrase that would become the slogan of Grindelwald and his followers. During this time, the two young men also became romantically connected.

Fantastic Beasts picks up years after that summer, as the threat of Grindelwald has grown to be dangerous to the entire wizarding world.

And while the movie ends with him captured in the custody of MACUSA, it’s unlikely he stays imprisoned for long. As already recounted in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Grindelwald eventually returns to Europe, where he constructs a prison-fortress called “Nurmengard” to hold his opponents, gathers an army of followers for his revolution, and attempts to overthrow the magical governments of Europe with a goal of installing wizarding rule over Muggles.

By 1945, the threat of Grindelwald becomes too great for even Dumbledore to ignore. He rouses himself from his station at Hogwarts and confronts Grindelwald, battling him in what is described as the “greatest wizarding duel of all time.” Defeated, Grindelwald is imprisoned in his own fortress of Nurmengard for the remainder of his life, until he is murdered by Lord Voldemort in pursuit of the Elder Wand.

THE SECOND SALEMERS:

The sort-of villains of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, the New Salem Philanthropic Society (also known as the Second-Salemers) isn’t really heard of again in Harry Potter lore. However, it seems that their efforts to have a second Salem Witch trial is doomed to ultimately fail, given that the 1994 Quidditch World Cup (featured in Goblet of Fire) sees a delegation from the The Salem Witches Institution, a Salem-based women’s group.

NOW WHAT:

On one hand, knowing all of this mythos minutiae isn’t imperative to enjoy Fantastic Beasts or the upcoming four films. But having placed Fantastic Beasts within the context of the Potterverse has helped us come to terms with the movies glut of unsolved story elements. Unlike so many other films with tacky cliffhangers, we know that the creators have a roadmap and a powerful final destination. Rowling isn’t just making things up as she goes along.

Compiled by Chaim Gartenberg for The Verge

Veteran’s Day

                                               November 11, 2016

Veterans Day is an official United States public holiday, observed annually on November 11th, honoring all military veterans – that is, all who served in the United States Armed Forces….from World War I, which ended 98 years ago, on November 11, 1918….through nearly a century of history and conflict, to today.

(Veterans Day is not to be confused with Memorial Day. Veterans Day celebrates the service of all U.S. military veterans, while Memorial Day, observed at the end of May each year, honors those who died while in military service.)

The iconic quotation by G. K. Chesterton encapsulates the attitude of those who have served, and serve today:

   The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him,
                          but because he loves what is behind him.

An enduring tradition: Joseph Ambrose, then, an 86-year-old World War I veteran, attends the dedication day parade for the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in 1982. He is holding the flag that covered the casket of his son, who was killed in the Korean War.

“And so what we’ve done is to force the Republicans and their conservative allies to reveal their true agenda. They don’t just want to wage a war on choice, they want to wage a war on contraception. They are against family planning. In the 21st Century, they want to prevent women from having access to the tools they should have to determine their own reproductive futures.

And I think it’s important to continue pointing that out. We cannot let them hide behind their positions without making it clear what their real agenda is. Because the fact is, today, the United States has one of the highest unintended pregnancy rates in the industrialized world. Half of all pregnancies are unintended and nearly half of those end in abortions.

Anyone truly committed to reducing the need for abortions should be committed to doing whatever it takes to reducing unintended pregnancies—regardless of politics and regardless of ideology.

And we know who’s paying the price for these policies–women around the world suffering because they no longer have access to reproductive care; women right here at home who want to plan their families and who want to prevent unintended pregnancies but no longer have access to contraception.

This is not just an affront to women’s rights—it is an affront to human rights, to our most fundamental values as a nation.”
~Hillary Rodham Clinton

“The One You’ve Been Waiting For:”  A Summary.

The title:  

Is grossly misleading.  I wasn’t waiting for any of this.  

Did Sam get a dog?  Did all my favorite characters unexpectedly return from the dead?  Did every one of Cas’s shitty relatives line up to present him with a thoughtful apology and a guinea pig?  Did Dean finally admit to himself that most heterosexual men don’t call their platonic bro-pals things like “sunshine” and “huggy bear?”  

No?  Well, call me when that changes.  Until then, I’m going to bed.


Ellie:  

Is the human personification of a cupcake and I am really, really glad she isn’t dead.  


Sam: 

Is too kind and empathetic for this world.  Uses his own trauma to help similarly troubled souls, knows when Dean needs pie, was destined to be a professional counselor, and it is a travesty that he is not one. 


Aaron “Gay Thing” Bass:  

Was not present nearly enough.  End of discussion.


Hitler:  

When they said they were going for a “Richard Simmons-type” interpretation, I honestly thought they were joking.  Evidently, they were not.


Dean “I Killed Hitler” Winchester:  

Killed Hitler.  Is also struggling with feelings of rejection and abandonment which he avoids confronting under the guise of mature rationalization, but seems to have gained brief reproach via killing Hitler.  Because killing Hitler is generally a good self esteem booster.  Did I mention he killed Hitler? Oh, and he also deserves pie.  Because he killed Hitler.   

Queen of the Water (11)

Bucky x Reader

Summary: A normal girl gets thrown into the Royal world. Royal AU

Word Count: 1.7k+

Warnings: swearing, protective!bucky, FLUFF, cliffhanger 

TAGS AT THE END!

CATCH UP HERE Part 9 Part 10 Part 12

Originally posted by in-perfectenschlag

Her heart pounds against her chest as the car inches closer towards dangerous territory. Bucky had left the house two days ago to return the car he stole from her father and send her a plane for her to take to Romania. Her new life is nearly ten miles away. She swallows hard and rubs her hands against her floral skirt. She tugs on her cardigan and puffs a strand of hair out of her face. The car stops a few minutes later and she glances out the window. The first thing she notes is that the gate is too intimidating to climb over. It’s dangerously sharp at the ends and pokes at anyone who dares to attempt to enter the castle grounds. The seconds thing she notes is that the area surrounding the Palace is ginormous. There’s acres and acres of land and it’s beautiful against the orange sun setting in the horizon. The sky is painted with a beautiful sea of lavender, indigo, and fuchsia. She makes a mental note for Bucky to take her on top of the largest hill in the grounds and have an uninterrupted date.

Keep reading

Homecoming

Bionicle loves to use multiverse theory to make it’s storyline darker. Kill a bunch of kidnapped Takanuva, visit a city with only one surviving resident, kill the Great Spirit and leave everyone stranded on a dying world. The closest thing to a happy story was the introduction of a less evil Teridax.

Considering there were an infinite number of parallel dimensions where there was no happy ending and everyone, or nearly everyone was enslaved or died, there are a lot of potential interdimensional refugees with Olmaks looking for a safe harbor/new home.

A few months after the reformation of Spherus Magna, a ragged looking Toa of Ice limps into New Atero, clutching an equally ragged Olmak. It takes some time to get his story, he’s injured, exhausted, and delirious, speaking his story in confused fragments. Eventually they piece together that his team didn’t get to the Great Spirit in time, and the Ignika killed them all, save himself, it’s bearer. He wandered a dead world until he found the Olmak, and has wandered between worlds ever since.

No one quite understands who he is, or calm him from his panicked state, until the Mahri arrive. He may not be quite the same, but they recognize him and welcome him into their team without hesitation.

Matoro has come home.

Run.

The pulse was designed to ward ghosts away from the human world by causing them to experience an intense paranoia, prompting them to go back into their world. The project itself had been in progress for nearly 25 years, the GIW had never let the secret experiment outside of the few researchers that were constantly at work on it. After a few years, it’d become sort of a GIW myth.

Except that it wasn’t. And the device was finished. The device would send out pulses all across the Earth to send ghosts fleeing into their own world. At least, that was the original plan. Unfortunately, the lab and its small-level ecto-entities only took them so far. The GIW needed to test it on an area where it would be controlled but also in a place where the results could be clearly seen; Amity Park was the perfect place. An ectoplasmic hot-spot and a small town. The citizens would need to be evacuated for a short period of time, the GIW needed there to be no interference with their experiment, so they could properly calculate the effects of the pulse on higher-level ghosts; just like the kinds that frequented Amity. The higher-up people in the U.S. government agreed that the small town of Amity Park was the perfect place to test the device, because of its frequent haunts-provided the GIW have the townsfolk safely out of the area as the tests were conducted. The civilians would only know what they needed to; that the GIW were going to try and rid their town of ghosts but in order to do so the people needed to be evacuated.

This was why, in a nutshell, the citizens of Amity Park were split into various lines. Children in the middle and elementary schools would be evacuated first with their teachers, then citizens over age 50, followed by adults between the ages of 30-49 (and their children that weren’t elementary-aged yet), and ending with teenagers and young adults ages 14-29 (the children of these young adults evacuated at this time too). The lines were organized further by birthdate.

Unfortunately for April-Born Danny, he was split from his best friends, as his friends had been born months prior; Tucker in the August of the previous year and Sam in February. He was directly after Dash Baxter, of all people. Apparently there was only a couple days between their respective birth-dates, who knew?

He could see his family, along with Sam and Tucker, waiting for him on the sidelines, next to the Assault Vehicle. They’d all already gone through the fun and games and were waiting for Danny to be put in the clear so that they could all leave to the center where they were to be housed until the evacuation was complete and they could resume their lives.

Danny was expecting to be thrust into another line-these guys are seriously obsessed with order, honestly-to wait for this lame experiment to be over (and it was bound to fail, obviously. The GIW don’t have the skill to catch the Box Ghost, let alone create something to prevent ghosts from spending their free time in the human world).

He wasn’t expecting that being deemed ‘fit for travel’ included a scan of ectoplasmic levels in his body. (It made sense after he thought about it; you’d have to get the citizens with a higher potential for ectoplasmic radiation farther away from the pulse to avoid them getting seriously ill, but at the time it all seemed so surreal.) Dash was pronounced clean and Danny found himself backing away. The GIW scientist scoffed at the boy’s fear, not knowing the source.

“Relax, kid. It’s just like an x-ray, or a metal detector. Not even that, really. It just looks at any ectoplasmic residue that may or may not have been left behind on you what with all these ghosts infecting your city. Just hold still for a second, it doesn’t hurt.” Danny shook his head and dodged the small device which, indeed, looked like a metal detector that they’d use before boarding an aircraft.

“N-No! Get it away from me!” He could tell that there was immediate confusion and utter disbelief at the boy’s reaction. Dash smirked.

“Afraid of a little x-ray, Fen-turd?” He quipped as he was led away into the mass of transport-ready civilians. The GIW agent narrowed his eyes before looking at two other agents that were awaiting orders nearby.

“Hold him.” The agent ordered and Danny found himself grasped in the hold of two burly men. His blue eyes widened. He was in a rock and a hard place. If he phased through their hold, they’d know; but if he let them scan his ectoplasmic levels-which always was a reflection of his ghost-half’s power level-they’d know as well.

Sam and Tucker were being held back, as well as his sister.

“He doesn’t want to be scanned! He’s healthy! Just let him through!” The red-head protested to no avail. The GIW weren’t budging. He was alone. Danny closed his eyes as the scanner passed over him; the machine had barely passed his collarbone when it began making noise.
“Mother of… This kid’s off the charts! Wait-” Danny couldn’t breathe and his eyes snapped open, though he couldn’t see much because his panic blurred his vision. “He has a signature! An ectoplasmic core!” The agent stumbled on his feet, dropping the scanner, and the two agents that had been holding the halfa ran away in utter disbelief. Danny shakily backed away, his eyes watering and his heart racing in his chest. Another voice entered the fray from where a separate agent scanned the boy’s supposed signature, only to find out that his colleagues were right and that the kid’s signature was all-too-familiar.

“It’s Phantom! The Ghost Kid!” At that exclamation, the stunned silence snapped and GIW agents whipped out ecto-pistols and other various weaponry which they brandished at the horrified teen. His parents were fighting their way through the men to get to him and Danny was wrought with indecision. This indecision only lasted for a moment, however, when the agent closest to him decided to shoot the boy with a burst of energy.

Instincts honed by nightly ghost fights and bullying from Dash, Danny’s eyes glowed a bright green and he used his hand to fling the ecto-blast away. Before he registered what was going on, his ‘defensive mode’ was switched on and Danny found himself in his ghost form and there was a shield in front of him that absorbed the small blasts fired into it.

For a moment, he noticed the looks of shock and horror on the faces of his parents. The looks on his friends’ faces, their parents’ faces, Jazz, Dash, Kwan, Paulina…. Danny gasped at realizing that he was in his ghost form and dropped the shield long enough for a large blast to nail his shoulder. Sam and Tucker were yelling at him to do something. Jazz too. The GIW spat out threats of dissection and painful experiments but Danny found himself deaf to them all. The ectoplasm from his core thrummed in his ears and his shoulder was oozing the glowing green substance, flecks of red blatantly displaying his half-ghost status.

They knew. They all knew.

Danny shook his head and jumped into the air, zipping away back into the town that they were all evacuated from. Knowing the GIW, they wouldn’t delay their planned experiment just because of this revelation-they’d just have to update their databases so that they were searching for Fenton and Phantom. The tears stung his eyes and froze on his face. He made it to his bedroom before he collapsed into his human form, his entire body numb.

He had a few hours, at most, before he’d have to go on the run. To continue running until the day he died. It was a hard pill to swallow. But he managed to pull himself together after twenty minutes of wallowing in self pity. He forced his emotions down, something that Danny had gotten enough practice doing for the past year, and flung his closet door open.

Underneath the floorboards was a simple dark blue backpack. A rather large one but not large enough to be cumbersome. Being almost as paranoid as the rest of his family, Danny had packed the bag full of what he knew he would need if he had to run off. A change of clothes (that he’d never wear in normal circumstances), scissors, a razor, a small bottle of bleach, soap, a small first aid kit, and a one-person tent rolled up and stuck on top of the backpack.

He pulled his wallet off of his bedside table and peeked inside. Twenty-five dollars and seventeen cents. He took everything except the cash out of his wallet-student ID, contact information, everything-and reached deeper under the floorboard in his closet for a few select cards.

If ever he was grateful to have a friend obsessed with technology and hacking, Danny was thanking his lucky a stars now. A fake birth certificate and social security number for a made-up boy that had only ever existed in paper form. Neil Tonne. One of Danny’s brighter moments had been to rip letters from Daniel Fenton to come up with a convincing, if not boring, identity. Shoving the papers into a pocket of the leather wallet, he packed the wallet away into his bag.

He switched forms so he could fly away but he hesitated. Taking one last look around the room, he found a framed picture of his family and friends. Him smiling obliviously along with them in front of Fenton Works. Letting a few tears slip from his toxic green eyes, he gingerly removed the photo from its frame and folded it, zipping it up into his bag as well (his HAZMAT didn’t have pockets, after all). Steeling himself, Danny made himself invisible and flew into the sky, leaving everything behind in a neatly written journal that laid on his bed innocently.

Assuming they didn’t already hate him and reject ever having a son, Danny left the journal to explain everything to his mother and father. The accident, why he kept his secret hidden from them, and recollections from every single battle that he’d ever fought in, including his evil future self. As it happened (well, directly after, in any case), he had written it down in the worn little book. Maybe even if they didn’t read it, Jazz would find it and get some comfort from it.

Pushing all thoughts of the life he was leaving behind him away, Danny sped into the horizon. He didn’t know where he was going, but it was away from Amity Park. Away from Michigan, from the Midwest, hell, maybe even away from the U.S. altogether.

As far away from the GIW as he could get, he would go. And continue going. And going.

If he ran away and didn’t contact his friends or family, the GIW wouldn’t bother them on his whereabouts. They wouldn’t know and the GIW wouldn’t know.

They’ll be safe from the GIW. They don’t care about humans if they don’t have information. Danny chuckled bitterly to himself as he flew over Colorado. Still playing the hero, even when nobody else is left behind to care. The teen let his tears fall freely through the air as he continued to fly at breakneck speed without direction.


Thick woods surrounded him, the sky above was a deep, star-speckled cobalt with the brilliant moon lighting the sky. Danny landed. He could guess that he was somewhere around Ohio, from the signs that he’d passed along the way. Before he found somewhere public, he needed to become a nobody; which is why he had landed near a small lake in the middle of the thick woods.
He tossed his backpack off of his sore, chafed shoulders and rifled until he found the bleach, scissors, and razor. It was dark and he needed light for what he was going to do. He conjured a small ball of ectoplasmic energy to hover over him. It wasn’t too bright, so it wouldn’t attract unwanted attention. Sighing heavily and steeling his nerves, Danny studied his reflection in the water. This was the last time he’d see his face. The last night that he’d be Daniel Fenton.

He started on his face first; carefully, he used the razor (while intently staring at his reflection so he wouldn’t mess up) to trim his brows so that they weren’t as thick. Grabbing the scissors, Danny had to confidence-check himself again before he started to cut away the thick locks of black hair until his long and messy hair was short and choppy; his bangs now barely reaching his brows from where they once flopped over his eyes if given the chance. Using his razor, Danny had carefully thinned out a good deal of hair on the sides and back of his head. While he was certainly no beauty major, the teen didn’t think that he looked half bad by the time he deemed himself finished.

Danny shook his head with a shaky sigh; he was really doing this. He’d played the scenarios over and over in his head but it was never real before. It had all been a joke at the time. Nothing that he’d ever have to do. He pulled his shirt and jeans off, leaving him bare but for his plain white boxers. He swallowed down the lump in his throat (they’re just clothes, come on!) and folded the shirt and jeans neatly on the dirt floor before lifting his hand and promptly incinerating them. He grabbed the bleach and shook his head again. He tugged his boxers off and stuck them next to the readied clothes by the backpack. He allowed the small, hovering ball of light to fade. Generously applying the bleach to every last hair on his head, Danny stepped into the freezing October water. If it weren’t for his ice core, he would have had hypothermia. He edged himself further into the cold water until he was at chest level and leaning against a large rock in the lake. His head spun with everything that had happened in just a few hours. He couldn’t feel-no, not yet. He couldn’t break yet; he could worry about his feelings later-now, he had to just… He just had to run.

When he finally pulled himself out of the water, Danny recreated his ball of light and studied his reflection in the stilled lake water. He was shocked to find out just how much a change in hair color and style could do to change someone’s face. His hair was maybe a shade away from Dash’s natural color. Since he had been rather thorough, and had left the bleach in his hair longer than he would have normally preferred, Danny liked to think that the blonde hair with his blue eyes looked almost natural, even with his black eyebrows. After he put his boxers back on, the clothes from his pack were next. A pair of faded, dark blue jeans that were torn in places purposefully to look “stylish” were the first to be yanked over his bare legs. Next came the tight black shirt over his head and with it was a forest green jacket, unzipped to his naval.

Now changed and disguised, the teen carefully cleaned everything up and pushed it all down into his backpack. Every last hair that he could find-everything was incinerated and the char marks were scuffed away to reveal spotless dirt. It was like he was never there. Danny transformed back into his ghost half and took to the air again, his backpack not quite as heavy as the weight of the world that he now carried on his shoulders.

It was when he made it to a place in New York, in the middle of the city with the same name, that he landed again-still invisible. It was somewhere around 5 in the morning. He’d been flying all night but the adrenaline had helped so that Danny hardly felt the true extent of his exhaustion.

He noticed that his face-both of them-were plastered across screens and billboards. He almost panicked before remembering that the face on the television wasn’t really his face anymore, thanks to his own precautions. A hand ran through his trimmed hair to reassure himself.

He sighed quietly and drifted into an empty alley, turning back into his human form. Swallowing down his terror and calming his furiously pounding heart, the boy tentatively started making his way through the streets. Nobody bothered to give the small blonde kid a second glance, often even shoving him out of their way. Danny, through his relief, couldn’t find it in him to be annoyed by the rudeness of the people around him. New confidence in his steps, Danny strode his way around the city, taking in the scene that befell him.

For a moment or two, he was even able to fool himself that he and his family were on a normal vacation. Jazz was at the New York Public Library reading everything she could get her hands on and his parents were studying the local haunts, particularly ones that Bill Murray had visited in the 80’s while filming the movie Ghostbusters, which his dad had long ago deemed a historical documentary of sorts. Danny decided that he liked his delusion and continued his trek through the city, studying the magnificent buildings that laid across the city as far as the eye could see and further. Amity Park was nowhere near as urban as he’d been under the impression that it was. Being in New York City made him feel so… insignificant. And it was wonderful.


The day went by too quickly. Soon, the city was engulfed in darkness. People went home to their loving families and luxury apartments. Others came out and rifled through garbage bins with their shopping carts full of cans and bottles. Sirens, screaming, and gunshots could all be heard in the ghettos where Danny currently was tentatively creeping through-invisible to be safe.

Everything was starting to catch up with him, as it had a tendency of doing. He was tired, hungry, thirsty, and completely alone in a huge city. No family, no friends. For all intents and purposes, Danny Fenton no longer existed. He was Neil Tonne, a nobody who knew nothing about the paranormal. A teen on the run from a life that no longer existed. Steps faltering, the boy swallowed hard and ducked into a dark space in between two buildings and behind a dumpster before collapsing onto his knees. He closed his eyes and let the tears fall. Noiselessly, he cried. The boy let everything out, his shoulders shaking from the effort of trying to stay quiet.

As pathetic as it sounded to his ears, he just wanted his mom to comfort him. He wanted his dad to laugh with over a bowl of ice cream. He wanted Jazz to psychoanalyze everything he said. He wanted to do that horror movie and hot wing marathon with Tucker that they’d put off to hunt ghosts. He wanted to tell Sam that he loved her. He wanted home more than anything in the world. Danny didn’t realize when he’d made the transition from quietly crying to bawling aloud.

He laid down on the ground, the smell of rotting food around him; the sounds of street-fighting, guns, and screaming matches ringing in his ears. A schizophrenic elderly woman hobbled past the alley, hollering about people draining all the metal from inside of the Earth. The teenager clamped his hands over his ears and sobbed harder.

He just wanted to go home.


*5 years later*

Danny couldn’t help but to wonder how much he looked like the people in those advertisements he often used to see on the television. Thin, emaciated bodies with wide eyes begging the more fortunate around to be merciful. Rough, leather-like skin chapped from days of dehydration. Some big-shot celebrity pretending to give a shit for the good publicity.

He knew he probably didn’t look much better, at least. Probably just a good deal paler like the people around him, in London. His hair was back to black but it didn’t seem to matter. He was unrecognizable from the… months? Years? However long he’d been running.

Dangerously thin, especially considering his six foot height that he’d gained over time, along with a broad chest and shoulders. Blue eyes that were lifeless and rimmed in darkness from lack of sleep. Greasy, tangled mass of hair that reached his shoulders. All he had in the way of clothing was a faded pair of dark jeans and an even more worn brown leather jacket that was zipped up if he needed to go anywhere that required a shirt. He was leaning against a brick building located within the fabulous city of London in the UK. It was cold in London now; what month was it, again?

How he’d managed to get this far was beyond him. He could only assume it had something to do with the ghost half inside of him that was becoming more and more difficult to access as he grew weaker.

It was really lucky, in all honestly, that he ended up in England. Even if his Mandarin, Spanish, and French were adequate, English was the one language he knew that he could understand for certain. Not to mention the cold rain felt like the blessed touch of a God against his feverish skin.

The sickness was probably why he couldn’t exactly recall when he had gotten to England, or how really. He wasn’t even sure how long he had been sick, for that matter. The body aches that came in bursts were natural and they often paled in comparison to the constant twisting of his stomach as it begged for sustenance. Danny could even ignore those, having gotten used to it some time ago.

Danny’s dull eyes turned to the right and he took to people-watching. He was quiet about it, but he liked to imagine what their lives were like. This lady was probably a lawyer, with the way her suit was so strict-looking… That young man was either a student-teacher or a newly-hired teacher; either way, he definitely had the ‘must mold young minds’ look about him… That guy was a family man, with a wife and some kids waiting for him wherever he was going.

Most that walked by ignored the fact that he was there. A blight on the good, properly-homed people of society. Those that dared look his way often did so with glares or looks of disgust. How awfully inconvenient for their walk home to have to smell the filth on a homeless teenager.

Such a rude boy he was to be so blatant about his existence.

Danny could feel it in the way that they avoided meeting his eyes. The way that they twitched their noses and quickened their pace. He didn’t mind, really. He knew what a waste of space he was; what a failure he was. The few things that he was supposed to do in Amity Park and he couldn’t do them. Keep his identity a secret and prevent malevolent ghosts from destroying the town he called home.

Ah, home.

What would his parents be doing about now? Cleaning up after dinner, likely. Did they even remember that they had a son? Jazz… would she be at a university by now? He couldn’t tell. Perhaps he didn’t want to be able to tell, he didn’t want to know how much of his own life had been wasted as he took horrid jobs for menial pay unless they wanted to ask questions.

His “Neil Tonne” persona had gone up in flames not even a month after he’d adopted it and began working while using the identity. He’d been caught for who he was because people started to ask questions. He’d answered them, which was the worst thing he could have done. If it hadn’t been for an elderly lady in Amityville, Massachusetts with a heart of gold, he would likely be in the hands of the GIW.

He hated questions so, as long as no questions were asked, he’d take the grunt position that he was given. Often it was cleaning out animal stalls, moving brick and mortar around, and once he was even tasked with breaking concrete slabs with a sledgehammer. That had been his favorite. Good, old-fashioned misplaced aggression taken out on the cold, gray surface of unfeeling concrete.

But he could never stay too long because people asked too many questions. How old are you? Where do you live? Don’t you have a family?

So he would have to leave. Get far away from the questions.

There was often little water for days at a time, and absolutely no food for even longer. If he could find someplace other than underneath a bridge to sleep, he was the luckiest man in the world. When he’d made enough money once, from a particularly difficult construction job, he was even able to get a hot shower with a warm meal and a bottled water. It had been the best day of his wretched, miserable life. Sometimes he wondered if he’d ever get that lucky again. It was unlikely, but he enjoyed relishing in the idea.

He remembered working for shit pay alongside illegal immigrants from Mexico. They had accepted the job for some of the same reasons that he did, and they could relate in more ways than one but at least many of them had wonderful families. His immigrant friends were nice to him and didn’t ask many questions, not that he could answer a whole lot anyway because his Spanish had been meager at the time. They had been the one to teach him how to speak Spanish more fluently; and he also learned quite a few cuss words. They also sang songs and always were kind enough to share some of their lunches that their families had packed for them. A few even offered that Danny stay with them.

But he was wanted by the GIW. The ghost hunters were willing to pay in exchange for him or information on his whereabouts, and Danny knew what the promise of money could do to someone and their steadfast morals. He always had to refuse, despite his heart yearning and tugging at the promise of being part of a family again, even if it wasn’t his own.

Danny let his head fall back, letting the icy rain pelt his scarred face. Opening his mouth, he allowed the cool water to moisten his tongue. It wouldn’t be enough, he knew, to help him much. At least it would stop the more intense burning of his throat. He tossed his jacket aside, though he knew it was unwise to do so. He needed the coolness on his body; not to mention it might help with the filth caked onto his person, might help with the smell that was bothering the other people passing by.

Speaking of which, there actually weren’t many that were out and about; the few people that were outside in this weather were just tourists now, mostly. There was a decent hotel not far away and they were all hobbling back from their exciting activities in “The Old Smoke”. The rain had completely soaked the denim which now clung to his weak legs. Danny blinked slowly, swallowing the water in his mouth before closing it.

The teen knew, in the back of his mind, that this was it. His body was giving out and he knew it. Any urine he’d been able to pass off, with what little water he’d had, was tainted with blood. He was now in constant pain, unable to sleep for more than maybe four hours even though he always felt completely exhausted. He was so tired; he knew that if he relented and closed his eyes that they wouldn’t open again.

But why was he hesitating? What was he waiting for? Closing his eyes meant… release. He wouldn’t have to run anymore. Worry about when his next meal would be. Wonder if his family missed him.

His legs drew close to his chest and his head drooped to rest atop his bony knees. Water rimmed his eyes and the pressure of unshed tears threatened to burst through his careful wall of apathy. But he was dying now. If someone was dying, they were allowed to cry, were they not? He didn’t have to put up anymore farces.

He carefully reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a worn photograph. The ache in his chest flared and Danny gasped slightly. It wasn’t the normal pain that he was able to ignore; this was something so much deeper, something that hurt worse than any kind of sickness or any kind of starvation that he’d ever experienced. He coughed out a choked sob, letting his eyes close and the tears fall freely.

I miss you Mom, Dad. I’m sorry if you’re disappointed in me for what I am… For who I’ve become. I wanted you to be proud of me like you were proud of Jazz. Jazz, I bet you’re doing good about now with how smart you are. Probably graduated now, right? … I’m sorry that I’m not there for you, Jazz, I am. I’m sorry I’ll never be able to see my nieces or nephews. I’m sorry I’ve been such a rotten brother. Brother… Tucker, the closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother. I miss you, man. I wish you could be here and tell me to ‘shake it off’ or something funny like that. Heh, you’d probably tell me to man-up and that my kidneys are just fine; I’m being a wimp. Except you’d be joking because you’d do this while you and Sam dragged me to the hospital to be looked at. Sam… I wonder if you’ve found a boyfriend. Most likely. Hopefully he treats you right; gives you everything you need and anything you want… I still love you, Sam. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…

With his apologies murmured internally, Danny was able to quiet his broken sobs. His head fell back against the brick, his limbs went lax, and he went still.


A blonde boy was grinning ear-to-ear despite the pounding rain. His poncho took care of most of it anyway, keeping him warm and dry. His parents were a few paces ahead, discussing what they wanted to do for tomorrow, their last day before flying back to Michigan. The blonde nineteen year old went along his merry way until he heard a loud splash coming from an alleyway just to his left. Curious, he peered into the alley and, just against the red brick building laid a kid his age. He’d fallen to the side into a puddle. His ribs poked out dangerously from a much too pale chest. His messy mop of black hair clung to his pale, gaunt face with the muddy rain water. The teenager ventured closer with a look of puzzlement. He… He looked familiar. Almost like… But it couldn’t be… He saw a crinkled, torn piece of paper in his hand. It was a… photograph? His eyes widened and he nearly choked on air as he realized the identity of the boy laying in the cold mud.

“Is that-? No… Fenton? Fenton?! O-Oh my god! I-I found-! Mom!”

On a Saturday night you’ll have nobody to call and your heart will ache to escape these four walls.
They’re gone I tell you, they’re not coming back. You’re all on your own down the winding sidetrack.
Alone is a word you will have to get used to, it’s less of a place and more of a virtue.
See they don’t really care if you’re sad or on edge because you have a role that you play in their heads.
If you break the script and start going off trail, you can bet that’s when nearly all of them bail.
And I’m sorry to you if all of them left, it’s a sad world now and it’s not at it’s best.
People are fickle and just put themselves first, though you try much too hard to help them at their worst.
In the end they all fade, even your greatest lovers. They’ll hide from the pain they don’t want to discover.
Yet you will push on though the world’s dipped in lies. You’ll make it through all without any disguise.
For you’re a great person of courage and love, you don’t run from hard truths, you just see from above.
It’s life’s simple meaning that they don’t seem to see, we die alone always and never are free.
—  Mozo Void | Alone
that feeling when

you’re minding your own business watching youtube videos and you come across a phrase that sounds very familiar

long story short, [ this video ] talks about the unsolved murder of the robinson family which happened in july of 1968. i had nearly reached the end of it when i was floored by the similarity between a note from the suspected killer and the lyrics of “used to be my girl”.

does alex spend his free time watching videos like this one? is this all a coincidence?

i don’t fucking know but i had to share this with the world.

  • Me: It's good for Gon and Killua to spend time apart from each other; neither of them have any real experience with friendships, much less the immediate and intense connection that they found with each other. You can already see that inexperience being materialized as over-dependence and near ostracization from others around them, because they found each other and immediately became each other's entire world. But this dependence on each other ultimately hurt both of them in the end, Gon discovering that some conflicts cannot be mended by Killua's presence and Killua discovering that he cannot save Gon from everything. These realizations in the midst of battle nearly cost both of them their lives and has also fundamentally changed their relationship. They are different people and no longer each other's one and only but that is okay, it will be good for them to spend time apart and reunite after experiencing independence after discovering what it feels like to have a soul mate. This will only strengthen their relationship and make it much safer and healthier for both of them.
  • Also Me: nnonononono no don't separate this is breaking my fucking heart reuNITE RIG H T NWO RUGHT N OW GIV E ME RENUION RI G HT N OW

>Be me
>See three men die in room of blood and shit and light
>mfw its because one man sneezed
>next day
>three men go in 
>men armed with cheap mops lives in each others hands
>day before
>see man i like
>mfw hes gunned down leaving a rose for a girl
>mfw girl doesnt remember
>girl is screaming
>pic related
>group of soldiers kill corpses of friends
>cucks test on children next
>assigned task to watch five men and women gunned down in abandoned factory
>happens every five seconds
>lasts forever
>see lucky man sip scotch in a nice armchair
>orders girl to stop breathing
>gets day off
>be me
>yesterday
>hundreds of men and women in orange jumpsuits herded like animals into empty rooms
>fill with gas and fire
>today
>hundreds more told they have a chance for lighter sentence
>told they had chance to serve country
>be me
>watch world nearly die
>every way is terrible
>sometimes theres time to scream
>be me
>now
>writing this
>mfw no happy endings
>fuck
>god help us
>secure
>contain
>protect