itâs been a really long absence from me, and iâm sorry! this blog will likely remain inactive and be used as an archive as iâm shifting back to my main blog @ankh-o. thank you guys so much for the support<3
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hey!! i read your buzzfeed unsolved fic about jason and i loved it, and it inspired me to write something like that too, because a i had a few other headcanons about it. it doesn't copy any of your ideas, and the stuff you wrote, but it's inspired by your work as a prompt, so i wanted to ask if you would be okay w this. i'll link back to your fic and put it in the "inspired by" block. thanks!
Hello! Iâm really sorry for the late reply! Iâm glad that my fic has inspired you to write your own, please feel free to do so!Â
Itâs been a thousand years since I posted any shorts, sorry:â)Â
For Lily, Merry (late) Christmas~
The church is decorated in ceremonious white, any signs of degradation and poverty gone with expensive cloths and bright candles. Soft music blends into the background, as if the Goddess herself had willed it, swaying those that entered with displeasure to turn frowns upside-down.Â
Simply stunning, is how he would have described it.Â
Instead of a plus one, his sister accompanied him for this occasion. She stands resolute, eyeing him with a certain look he knows is meant to be an invitation to stay at home. His brother stands in front of him, wearing their father's clothes.Â
'I will be fine, you two worry too much.' He says, simply too tired to put up much of a fight.Â
Ramus turns his head, dull eyes boring into him. Lynna coughs, digging a finger into the man's back, ticking an eyebrow up. Without so much as a word, he turns away again.Â
It's rather sickening, if he were to be completely honest.Â
Gonzalo would rather be at the Spire. But Magda had been absolutely glowing, even brighter now when she walks down the aisle in a flowing white gown, looking at him with expectant eyes and an excited smile. She presses an invite deep into his scarred palms, scentless and plain white, 'I don't need anyone else from your family to come, Gonzalo. I just want you to be there.'Â
She doesn't notice how his face crumbles and a mask is set in place.Â
He'd rather be in the Spire, but here he is, seated at the very front of the Church, where he had a full view of how stunning the groom looked in white â so unlike the usual blues he'd grown to love â because he's a dear, special friend in their hearts. I'll be fine, he tells himself, knowing it to be all a lie.
When they exchange vows, he sees Alan's lips quiver with disbelief â 'She said yes, Gonzalo. I didn't ever think that she'd... ' â and when they exchange rings, the pale blue sapphire that sits atop her ring hurls his soul into despair.Â
It's fine, he lies. Lynna's grip of his hand tightens unbearably, face twisted in pain and well-hidden anger.Â
The guests rise, clapping with joy and whooping with happiness. Ramus stands stock still, arms dangling uselessly at his side.Â
And when everyone leaves for the party, the newlyweds make their way toward him.Â
With a smile so false yet masquerading to be true, one that would've made Juven Sakan jealous, Gonzalo leaves before he can feel himself fall apart.
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This went deep man. Look at her face. I would love to know where this came from, what she was talking about. And itâs true. So true. Completely irreplaceable. You are you and there is no better you
I know using âitâs funny âcause itâs queerâ is an incredibly lame punchline, but watching gender/sexuality subversive comedy is also such a big olâ power trip sometimes
like, canonically bugs bunny is not stopped by goddamn anything, not rabbit season or codified institutions or the fucking jail cell of gender binary perimeters
heâs basically a chaotic neutral trickster, but damn if he isnât near invisible to the point even sexuality norms canât fuking mark this dude, lit
Sadly, no; I got called a âSkype promoting liesâ last week for posting about how my congregation made support for Black Lives Matter an important component of our Rosh Hashanah services. And make no mistakeâthese white supremacists specifically chose âSkypeâ to be their word for Jews because of its linguistic similarity to âKike.â The code words are a new but very real thing.
The fact that these scum sucking fuckers chose, of all the runes, AlgizâŚwhich stands for protection from harmâŚas one of the ones they specifically useâŚfills me with seething rage.
Get your white supremacy out of my futhark you fucking shitstains.Â
am reblogging because i am legitimately clueless and want to help other clueless individuals who might spot these symbols and now be able to recognize and report/flag them and block individuals who knowingly use them
FIRST THEY TOOK THE BUDDHIST SYMBOL OF PEACE AND NOW THEYâRE TAKING THE FUCKING TRIFORCE
Iâm beyond angry right now ugh
My great grandparents didnât sit through fucking internment camps in WWII for this
Male your kids aware that bad people are using these things! Google, Yahoo, Skype. There is no room for âTheyâre too youngâ or âI donât want to scare themâ because I can guarantee the other side doesnât have those reservations about their kids
Iâm especially pissed about the Elder Futhark runes that were used, like what the fuck?? Why would they take symbols of peace and perfectly innocuous things and turns their meanings into something terrible and ugly??
Itâs important to keep these symbols in mind, but remember to think of the context theyâre used in. Some people may not know about these stolen symbol meanings, others might use these symbols for something else OR their original meaning. Not everyone who uses these is a white supremacist, they might just be unaware they were stolen or using them in their original context, not the shitty stolen one.
Iâm tired of white supremacists taking symbols that are belong to other groups or may be entirely innocuous and claiming them as their own. We need to stop letting them take things that donât belong to them, because that gives them power. We need to muddy up their attempts at secret communication by using these symbols as they were intended. And we need to call them out on their bullshit when we see it.
Theyâre the Borg. They take things, strip them of meaning, and use them in violation of their original purposes, and what they donât steal, they destroy. All is reduced to either weapon or victim.
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You know those anime meta posts along the lines of âI was born with pink hair. The doctors told my parents I was a Main Character and ever since my life has not known peace from demons/spirits/sports competitions/harems who find meâ
Well I see that, and I raise you this:
An anime boy whose appearance is, by absolutely anyoneâs account, completely and utterly average. Mundane hair. Mundane eyes. Not even glasses to set him the tiniest bit apart. A simple, unmemorable, unrecognizable civilian among a backdrop of millions.
And he has a lot of passions, and a lot of ambitions, which he hones every chance he gets. Heâs dabbled in sports and archery and cooking and just about anything you could wrap a competition around. And heâs competed in many of these. Every chance he gets. With all of his passion and all of his might.
Heâs crushed by the competition every single time.
Until one dayâone day something clicks for him. Something that should have seemed obvious from the start and yet never wasâas though everyone, including himself, was unwittingly blind to it. It clicks, when he realizes every kid whoâs beaten him in competition, every kid whoâs gone on to fame and glory and acclaim, has been some candy-haired gel-spiked ridiculously-dressed fucker.Â
Thereâs some trend there that this Main Character boy canât explain and canât understand but he decides, this one time, fuck it. Heâll play along too. Heâs got a model train competition in four days, and heâs got nothing more to lose. He hits up the department store, buys the pinkest, noxious-est, fruitiest hair dye he can find, the spikiest hair gel available, and the gaudiest clothes on the thrift rack. He enters the model train competition looking like a bubble gum gijinka.
And he wins.
Suddenly, the other candy-haired contestants notice him. They talk to him. They pledge rivalries. Girls notice him. Judges applaud him. Acclaimed model train aficionados offer him internships across the world. Heâs hit on something.Â
The main cast expands to cover just about every candy-hair cliche in the book: from the mostly-normal-looking demure school girl with the blue hair to the Naruto-est, yelling-est boy with the red-and-green spiked hair. The cool megane senpais, the purple haired tsunderes, suddenly everyone is interested in him. Theyâre prodigies and upstarts and underdogs and they truly believe that this main character boy is one of them.
So the main character boy maintains his ruse. He touches up his roots at dawn every morning and carefully attends to his gelled spikes and tells absolutely no one about this great, uncanny, unfathomable secret heâs stumbled upon. He wins his competitions left and right. He racks up the acclaim. Heâs hailed as a prodigy of all trades, just now bursting onto the scene, and boils to the top of all his candy-haired peers.
Heâs rising up, his every dream within his grasp. Until one day he gets a note under his door, taped to an old picture of his Normal Boring self from middle school, that says âYou donât belongâ
Being a homosexual in Octaviusâ time was perfectly acceptable, which makes this all the more funny cause I think he thinks there can be something more, but Jeb is literally clueless as hell.
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