please respect the columbine memorial. do not wear the attire the boys wore that day. don’t go against the rules set in place. this is a place for the victims to be honored and eric & dylan aren’t involved for the sole reason that they caused the tragedy themselves. please let the victims and their friends & families have this space. please let the school and the town have this space. please DO NOT go anywhere near columbine in the clothing the boys wore that day and DO NOT become invasive.
if you visit the memorial, bring flowers. clean up the area a little bit. do something that’ll actually help. this is apart of their history and it’s still raw. treat it delicately. be kind to the memorial.
@pale-silver-comb was talking about mer!Sterek yesterday and I ended up rambling a way too long response so I’m posting it:
I’m imagining human!Derek would have shipwrecked somewhere near Stiles’ pod’s home, and after Stiles saves him the pod sticks him on an itty bitty island, little more than a rock in the water, while they try to decide what to do with him. And of course he’s generally grouchy and broody, sitting there on that rock, while Stiles swims up at the end of each day to offer him raw fish and seaweed treats, and maybe a pretty shell here and there “in case you get bored.” (And Derek just stares at him because what is he supposed to do with a shell, but when Stiles swims away he finds himself picking it up and letting the smoothness of it play over his fingers anyway.)
And maybe eventually the pod decides they can let Derek live as long as he stays on the tiny rock island –– alone, for the rest of his life. If he goes back to civilization, he’ll surely tell people about them and they’ll be hunted. It’s happened before.
Derek basically takes the news with a grim huff because of course, that’s how his life is, and doesn’t object, and the pod goes off their own ways afterward, figuring he’s fine with it.
Except for Stiles.
Because, as nice as it is to have his very own grumpy human sitting on a rock to play with, Stiles can’t help wondering why he’s so alright with staying on this rock. Doesn’t he have friends? Family? Ambitions? …Anything more interesting than a rock and a few pretty shells? (And Stiles, from time to time, but even Stiles is willing to admit he hardly counters the dullness of a big rock and about twenty square feet of pacing space.)
The guy’s an enigma, that’s all, with pretty eyes and an interesting scruff on his face, that’s why Stiles keeps coming back, and bringing him shells and keeping him company, and eventually, on one random day while they’re staring out at the bright orange sunset, Derek tells Stiles about the fire.
How he has two sisters back home, but they’re better off without him. That this shipwreck, his banishment here, they’re just the punishment he deserves after what he let happen to his family.
And that’s when Stiles realizes he needs to help Derek get home.
Why is Seth feuding with Bray?
Why is Miz vs Dean still a thing?
Why is Brock Lesnar champion?
Why couldn’t Roman announce his big thing this Raw aka why no Roman this Raw?
Why do raw women get treated like crap?
Why is raw so fucking long?
Why can’t the raw creative team get their shit together?
“And yet people still watch Raw and do nothing but complain…. oh wow.”
Yeah we’re still gonna watch Raw. I’m still gonna watch for Roman Reigns. I’m still gonna watch for the wrestlers that I support even though Raw is treating their women’s division like shit. I still watch for Alexa, Sasha, Nia, etc. I hope that their creative team will get it together and finally start treating the women how they deserve to be treated.
Also… if you forgot… our “complaining” started that #GiveDivasAChance trend that trended for multiple days. It was recognized by multiple WWE Superstars and even on Raw itself. Showing just how serious the fans are about the women’s division. Just incase that slipped your mind.
The beating sun was torturous, just drowning the electrolytes and water out of everyone’s system the instant they walked outside the cool air conditioning. Let’s also not forget the awesome humidity that follows around this time of the year in this god forgiving state. 41% of humidity. Yeah no.
Last Monday Night Raw before the first ever Paper per view Great Balls of Fire on Sunday. Today also was the young woman’s first day back to work in over a month. Her sparkling blue green eyes scanned over the Talking Stick Resort Arena, downtown Phoenix.
Monday night raw and Tuesday night Smackdown were here in Phoenix, Arizona. It’d give the woman a couple of hours to let loose in town, and she couldn’t wait. With a deep breath, her anxiety settled in realizing all eyes would be on her.
‘Gotta go in sooner or later.’ She told herself before she extended her suitcase holding it in her right hand as her left stroke her wheelchair wheel and pushed it forward to the back of the resort arena gain access backstage.
On her way there, her hands and arms grew tired, indicting how much she wasn’t use to being in a wheel chair and how weak her upper body strength was. It was very frustrating for her, she wasn’t use to any of it, and was just learning as she went.
“Ma'am, ID please.“ The two security guards were posted at the back door of the stadium where the talent and WWE staff would enter through.
Pulling the backpack that was squished between her back and her seat, pulling out her employee ID from her wallet getting the okay as they opened the door for her, and quietly tell her to have a goodnight. Sliding her ID back in her wallet, she entered backstage wondering who’d she run into.
“Is that Miss Carter I’m seeing?!” She could recongize that voice from anywhere. WWE Veteran wrestler R-Truth (real name Ronnie Killings), who had this excited smile on his face seeing it was indeed one of favorite people I’m the company “It is you Miss Carter! My god girl! Look at you! I’m digging this.“
He moved his hand up and down refering to her wheelchair making her smile tug at the corner of her lips. R-Truth was the best making even the most sad and negative things, and bringing the positive out of it. Isabella knew her accident could have been worse, so why making it all depressing and a sob story?
“I do too. At least I can bump into people with my wheelchair and pull the innocent card.”
The male wrestler burst out in laughter relieved she could joke a bit with everything right now.
“See! A blessin’!“ Um, she guessed. “Where you headin’? Creative meeting?”
Giving him a nod, he said “I’ll take you there,” Hooking her suitcase on her handles behind her seat, he gently pushed her as he was heading to the direction of catering. “I’m meeting up with Gold and the Hardy Boyz in catering. Just admire the dessert, torture ourselves.“
A small smile was on her lips as they appeared in front of the door with a piece of paper that posted CREATIVE TEAM, indicting the two needed to say goodbye, for now. “Well, tell them I said hello, and thank you for accompanying me.”