the film was never supposed to be something that felt personal to this degree. at least, that was what you, an infamous actress in the field, had told yourself when you accepted the role.
the screenplay followed a single mother raising her teenage son after a difficult divorce. on the surface, it was a story about family and growing up, but at its heart was a boy carrying a secret he was terrified to share. throughout the film, he convinced himself that if the truth ever came out, the people he loved most would never look at him the same way again.
they had searched long and far to find your own on-screen son. but with so many trial and errors, from interview to screen tests, it just was never a good fit each and every time. and you were running out of time then, before production was set to begin. you were anxious about any delay, not least because you knew people would be out of work and would not be paid. you couldn't have that.
your son never told you that he eyed this role. not even to his dad, the illustrious divorce lawyer higuruma hiromi, whom he was very close to. it was an interesting conumdrum because your son liked to talk to you and your husband about things like this, but you supposed your son just wanted to do this on his own terms.
he went through the entire process from scratch, start to finish. he didn't want to be hired because of who his parents were. he wanted to be hired because he did with the dignity of his own hard work, the same ethic he had learnt from watching you audition for roles even when you were already a big name. the same ethic he found in his father when he humbly offers his service to low income families without pay or expectation.
in the end, after a long pool of castings, meetings and discussions from all that was involved in the film, the role of the son ultimately went to your own son after finding satisfaction in watching the gut-wrenching monologue he performed.
at first, the decision sparked debate. critics questioned whether he was experienced enough to carry such an emotionally demanding role, being such a young up and coming actor. there were industry insiders accused the studio of banking on the novelty of casting a real-life mother and son together, especially inflaming the thoughts of possible nepotism allegations. it's one thing to be an infamous couple's son, it's another to actually hold the same drive and talent as the two of them.
the criticism disappeared almost immediately after the first trailer. what audiences saw wasn't a celebrity's child trying to act. they saw someone who felt real.
it was something that people really haven't seen in a long time. in a new generation of actors, full of superficial essence and devotion to the craft, your son's performance was a phenomenon worth seeing. his performance was painfully natural, particularly in the film's final act, where his character's fear slowly consumed him. by the time filming reached the climactic coming-out scene, even members of the crew found it difficult to watch without becoming emotional.
the coming–out scene was one particular scene people really loved from the movie when the movie ultimately came out in theaters. it started an incredible buzz about the film,because so many people couldn't help but relate to it.
it was a scene which took place at a dinner table. there was nothing dramatic or extraordinary that happened to reach to that point. there were no raised voices, no sweeping music, no emotional monologue designed to force tears from the audience. the power of the scene came from how ordinary it felt.
the character sat across from his mother, trying and failing to work up the courage to speak. every attempt died in his throat. every time she asked if he was alright, he insisted that he was. every reassurance only seemed to make him more emotional.
the set itself had been unusually quiet that day, you can't help but recall. you and your son barely spoke, unable to find it in yourselves to break character for something most profound and raw in the film. the director called action. the cameras rolled. and your son immediately disappeared into the role.
you watched him sit at the table, staring down at his plate as though the food in front of him had personally offended him. his fingers twisted together beneath the table. his shoulders were tight with tension. every nervous habit had been carefully built into the character over months of rehearsals.
or so you thought.
later, you'd wonder how much of it had been acting at all. how much of it was the depths of his own turmoils and struggles. how much sorrow could he take, knowing more or less that this is the life he had to deal with, the truth he had to grapple with.
"honey?" you asked in character, setting down your fork. "you've barely touched your dinner."
he slowly looked up. for a second, his expression seemed genuinely startled. as though for a moment, he'd forgotten he was supposed to respond. he clears his throat tenderly and gives you a small smile.
"i'm fine." he whispered to you.
the answer came too quickly, almost too rehearsed for any mother, real or imagined, would suspect. but it was what the script had intended. and that was all there was to it. but there was something else there too. something fragile. something frightened.
you remember seeing the director lean forward from behind the monitors. the entire crew seemed frozen. your son lowered his eyes again. the silence stretched, far too long, far more than the script ever expected.
he tried to continue on with the scene, tried to compose himself, tried to deliver the next line. but nothing came out. nothing could have prepared him, nothing could have prepared you or the crew about the depths you were now threading. the emotion hit him harder than expected.
tears filled his eyes. you were quick to realize that this was not the tears any actor would force to shed in that moment. your son's tears were not just imaginary, they were hot and vibrant. they were real.
your mouth opened slightly, as natural can be. you have watched your son cry for almost everything in these eighteen years you have had him. but this was different. these tears were the kind that arrive without permission. the kind that comes knocking into the throes of one's soul.
for a brief moment you thought the director might cut the scene. instead, he let the cameras keep rolling. your son laughed weakly through the tears, breaking into such a broken, embarrassed sound as he tried to compose himself once again in order to deliver the scene. it was then, almost so overwhelmed that he finally forced out the line.
"i'm gay." he whispers, the shadows of fear brushing against every word. "i'm...i'm not into girls and i just...i don't..."
the room became completely silent at his character's revelation. one could have heard a pin drop in that moment. in that moment, there was no one but you and him in a room full of people. even the crew seemed reluctant to breathe.
you could feel your heart break at the sight of him, at the sight of your young son falling apart as the character would have. you followed the script. you found yourself crossing the room, finding yourself kneeling beside him. you opened your arms and pulled him into an embrace.
but something about the scene felt different now. he wasn't acting opposite another performer. he wasn't just the character. he was your son. he was your actual son, letting these feelings out as he cried in your arms.
the cameras eventually stopped rolling. the director yelled cut. nobody had moved at all. for several seconds, the entire room remained silent, every single person taking it all in. it was then someone behind the monitors quietly muttered to themselves in a low, mesmerized tone.
"jesus christ."
even when you thought it must be too much to show something like that was so raw and vulnerable on screen, your son agreed with everyone on the staff, especially the director that it would be a disservice to cut it or redo the scene. he had foresight that it would not feel right to let it die in the abyss.
and he was right. because the scene became the emotional centerpiece of the film and it was the thing that honesty of those feelings is what brought your son much acclaim from those who had been against him and those who had hoped the best from him.
the best thing is that audiences reacted to it and connected with it, because it was a reality people couldn't escape, a reality lived by so many people who just want to be themselves. there were many parents like you who wrote essays about it, thanking you for your tenderness and your open arms to your son. there were teenagers thanking your son as they posted clips online alongside stories of their own experiences.
the movie became a massive success and your son became a star almost overnight. but through all of it, there was one thing nobody knew.
while he had been filming the role of a teenager afraid to come out to his parents, he had quietly been wrestling with the same reality himself. you noticed the changes long before he said anything. it was so simple to you, so clear.
yet it was not because there was some dramatic revelation, but because you loved him and still do and most of all, because you were his mother. and there was no greater gift in this world than to be there for your children and love them wholly. no matter who they are and what they choose to be. they were not hurting people by being people who just want to live and love.
but even then, you did not want to get ahead of him. you wanted him to tell you when he was ready, at his own pace. and yet still, you found yourself concerned. being so young, you couldn't help but wish that this journey called life was more kinder to him.
there were moments when he seemed distracted and you and hiromi noticed. sometimes, you and hiromi would look at each other, witnessing those moments when he withdrew from conversations and back into himself, letting the quiet reign over him and the space.
you knew it broke your husband's heart. not that his son was someone who loved differently, but because his beloved son was in endless pain. people may think your husband was stoic and always so composed. yet that was far from the truth. most especially when it comes to your son. all logic escapee him when it comes to your son. because even the smallest things, higuruma hiromi took to heart.
"he looks so hurt, sweetheart. it must have been so painful him." he said quietly as a morose look came when he watched his small baby cry brutishly, getting the vaccine. "he's so small....i....can't look."
hiromi swallowed the bile on his throat watching his five year old son sleep after he cried his eyes out, scrapping his knee hard. he can't take his raven colored eyes off his son.
"what can i do to lessen his pain?" he says as he looks over the scrapped knee. "look at him, sweetheart. how can such pain hit our boy?"
and he hasn't changed. if you were to be more honest, hiromi was the one who picks up on it easily. sometimes your husband can tell that your son wished he can say something. he would tell you, how your son looked as though he wanted to tell you something before changing his mind at the last second. you assumed it was the pressure, as your husband had. but even when he insists to talk to your son, you shake your head.
"sweetheart, he is in pain. he wants to tell us." hiromi whispers to you, pushing away all his court documents in that moment. nothing mattered more than your son. "don't you think its time that we should...we should just talk to him—"
you shake your head. "darling, we cannot just push it on him. he has to be the one to tell us. he has to do it on his own terms. you know this more than anyone."
"even when he's hurting?"
you sighed, putting a hand on his own. "especially when he's hurting. we can't force a wound to heal just because we want to. it takes time, it takes everything in your body. so let him have time."
he purses his lips, leaning backwards as he looked at you with those desperate eyes. "then what do we do? what can we do to ease it all?"
you leaned forward and kissed his mouth. you meet his dark charcoal eyes, those same eyes full of warmth and smiled. "we love him with everything in us and hope that this love would be enough to give him courage. let time pass and hope that it would carry him forward."
"what would i do without you?"
"i don't know." you tell him, rubbinng your thumb along the lines of his hand. "but we will never know. you have me and you have our son."
"then i'm the luckiest man alive."
"that you are."
and you did. you let time pass and you let him live his life. he got even busier as time went on. the film had changed his life. there were more opportunities and more roles. but with fame came with attention, expectations, criticism, and scrutiny that neither of you had fully anticipated. you thought he was struggling with that.
what you didn't realize was that every day he spent avoiding the conversation made it more frightening. the irony wasn't lost on him. he had spent months acting out scenes about fear, acceptance, and honesty while avoiding honesty in his own life.
but truthfully, he was still just that little boy who still needed some time to grow up. and with the success of the movie, the struggle of that boy in him was only made worse.
people constantly asked him about the role. interviewers wanted to know how he'd managed to portray the character's fear so convincingly. critics continued to praise the authenticity of his performance and kept giving those rave reviews with big bold letters on their daily newspaper columns. every compliment felt like a reminder, a reminder of something he couldn't do. something he could not come to terms with in the way his character had.
eventually, it became impossible to ignore.
he knew he had to come and tell you.
to the people he loved most in this world.
there was nothing more he wished for in this world than to be so loved by you.
so he chose that night then and there.
it was that one evening, several months after the premiere in paris, the three of you were at home together as a family. it was one of those rare nights when neither you nor your husband had work obligations demanding your attention, undisturbed by the world that you busily dwelled in.
you were sitting in the living room reviewing a script while hiromi all but occupied the other end of the couch with documents from a case. your son joined you after dinner and sat in one of the armchairs nearby.
at first, nothing seemed unusual. then twenty minutes passed. he hadn't looked at his phone once nor had he dare turn on the television. he hadn't contributed to the conversation. he simply sat there, quietly waiting.
the realization struck you first. you lowered the script. "honey?"
his head lifted immediately. "yeah?"
"is something wrong?" the question seemed to catch him off guard.
"no." the answer arrived too quickly.
across the room, hiromi glanced up from his paperwork. the lawyer in him had always possessed an irritating, sharp ability to easily and quickly notice when people were avoiding a question. and he could never turn it off, even when he was genuinely full of tenderness and concern in hi..
your son visibly tensed beneath the attention. you exchanged a look with your husband. the silence that followed stretched longer than normal. your son opened his mouth and then closed it. he looked down at his hands and then opened his mouth again.
by now, both you and hiromi had set aside your work entirely and put all your attention on your son, his eyes flickering back and forth to the wooden floor and to your figures. before long, he gathered himself enough to utter the words he wanted to convey.
"i need to tell you something."
his voice sounded smaller than usual, almost like when he was that small boy again. the boy he will always be to you and your husband. you immediately sat forward. the words themselves weren't alarming. the expression on his face was. your stomach tightened as you take your husband's hand to still yourself.
"honey, you're worrying me."
he laughed weakly, the sound contained absolutely no humor. "i know."
another silence followed. long enough that you briefly considered moving closer. then you noticed his hands shaking. before either you or hiromi could ask another question, he spoke just clear enough to be understood.
"i think i've known for a while."
you pursed your lips. "known what?"
his eyes, the same eyes your husband held in his own face, had almost immediately filled with tears. and suddenly you understood the weight of what he was trying to say. you stood before he even finished speaking. your son looked between you and his father hiromi. he just looked so small and so utterly terrified, unsure of how to proceed.
it was as though he genuinely believed the next few seconds would change his life forever. then, with a visible effort, he finally forced the words out as he looked at both of you in the eye.
"mom....dad, i'm....i'm gay."
the confession barely reached the end of the room. for a moment, nobody spoke. but it was not because either of you were shocked. you both had known, even subconsciously. but because both you and your husband were too busy processing something else entirely. and that was the fear. the sheer amount of fear sitting in front of you.
your son looked devastated, almost like someone awaiting a verdict for something that would change the trajectory of his life. it was almost like he was expecting to be someone's shame, someone's disappointment. and that realization hurt far more than the confession itself, for you would never, hiromi would never, consider your precious son any of that.
you crossed the room immediately. hiromi followed you in a heartbeat. without hesitation, without needing a second to think, the two of you rushed to your son's side. by the time you reached him, tears were already streaming down his face.
and suddenly, unwillingly, you were reminded of the movie, of the dining room scene, of your son crying across from you while cameras rolled. except this wasn't a set. there were no lights. no script. no director waiting to yell cut.
this was real. this was truth. the truth you both waited for from him, till he was comfortable in letting it in. "oh, my boy. our precious little boy."
you pulled him into your arms, as did your husband, whose warmth envelopes you both. the tension in his body was unbelievable. these many years of anxiety packed into every muscle. he clung to you and hiromi as though he expected to wake up and discover this wasn't real.
"i'm sorry, mom, dad...i really am—" he whispered.
the apology made you pull back instantly. "sorry for what?"
hiromi pat his shoulder. "there are no need for apologizes, dear boy."
his eyes darted away. "i don't know. i just feel like....i feel like i have to say that."
the answer broke your heart. you glanced toward hiromi. your husband had remained silent throughout the exchange, but his expression had grown increasingly troubled. not because of what your son had told him. but because of what your son clearly believed.
hiromi leaned closer, your son visibly braced himself. the reaction alone seemed to offend him. he looked at his son and spoke with the same calm voice he used whenever he wanted someone to listen carefully.
"why would the best thing that ever happened to us need to feel like his authentic and genuine existence is an upset?"
your son looked at his father. hiromi smiled. "whatever you are, whoever you are....we will love you. you are our son. what a gift you have been. why would that change when it comes to who you love?"
you kissed the temple of your son's head. "we love you son, so very much."
for a moment, your son just stared at him. and then you. then he couldn't help but laugh that sounded so short and disbelieving. even his face showed it. he starts to slowly relax.
"i can't believe this is that's how this works."
hiromi frowned. "what does that mean?"
"it means—" he wiped furiously at his face. "it means people usually get upset about this sort of thing."
"which people?" your husband cocks a brow.
"you know....people."
"that's not a useful answer, son."
"dad, please."
"i'm a lawyer. vague statements physically pain me."
despite himself, your son made a choking noise that was suspiciously close to a laugh. you took advantage of it immediately. "your father is right, though."
he groaned. "please don't encourage him."
"too late, ive been encouraged." hiromi said as he smiles. "just you wait."
"still can't believe you married him."
"i know. hes too playful for his own good."
"my condolences. you're stuck with me forever."
"id take the black card. me and him are going shopping."
"you already have it in your wallet."
your son stared at both of you and then at the floor. then back at both of you. the expression on his face suggested he was becoming increasingly frustrated that this wasn't turning into the dramatic confrontation he'd apparently prepared for.
"you're taking this weirdly well."
"we're taking it normally."
"no, you're not."
"how should we be taking it?"
"i don't know!" he threw his hands up. "more dramatically?"
you blinked. "honey."
"what?"
"did you want us to be upset?"
"no!" he suddenly shouts. "no....i don't...i just...!"
"then what are you complaining about?" hiromi raised a brow.
"i'm not complaining."
"you sound like you're complaining." you pointed out, teasingly. "want me and dad to do a do over?"
"no....no, theres no need for that. im really happy with your reaction....its just that....well,....because this isn't how i imagined it."
your husband crossed his arms. "okay, then how did you imagine it?"
your son opened his mouth and then paused. before long, he then looked genuinely embarrassed as red appeared on his cheeks. "i don't know."
you narrowed your eyes. "tell us then. what did you imagine?"
"no....im not telling."
"tell us." your husband urged.
"honey."
"absolutely not."
"tell us and we'll stop bugging you." you offered.
his face slowly turned red. which, unfortunately for him, immediately confirmed your suspicions. you pointed. "oh my god....."
he covered his face. "don't.....don't say it"—
"you imagined a speech."
silence comes and goes. hiromi looks the other direction, certain that he kight start laughing. you try to hold your laughter. "honey." more silence. "honey...its okay, just..."
finally, a muffled voice emerged from behind his hands. "maybe. okay? i expected a speech from the two of you. happy now?"
you nearly doubled over laughing. hiromi soon followed, though his face was hidden through out. "you wrote a speech? honey....its as if you dont know this family!"
"i hate this family." he grumbles under his breath. "ugh, i even used dad's speech writing techniques during his opening and closing statements."
"i'm really honored that you too something from me." hiromi finally looked up, snickering. "well done, son."
"that's not important anymore, you can let it go."
"honey, that's the most important thing you've said all night."
hiromi looked back at him. "but seriously, you prepared notes?"
"i wasn't taking chances. you're a lawyer, mom's an actor. im not taking chances when it comes to the two of you."
"how long was it?"
your son groaned exhasperatedly. "dad."
"how long?"
"...three pages."
you actually had to sit down, your eyes blinking. "three pages?"
"there were bullet points."
"bullet points."
"i wanted to stay organized." your son responded to your husband with a shrug. "plus, you taught me that i need to summarize my points if i had them."
your husband pinched the bridge of his nose. "....so you mean to say that you prepared a legal argument."
your husband suddenly made a face. "well, when you say it like that—"
hiromi's eyes widened. "are you saying you made literally made exhibits?"
"oh no, there were no exhibits. i have too much time valuable for something else."
"thank god." you whispered to your husband.
"there were references, though."
"references?"
"you know....cited sources. i pulled some from the library and the interweb."
the room exploded in that moment. you buried your face in your hands. hiromi looked one second away from falling off the couch. your son looked deeply offended by your reactions.
"i don't see what's funny."
"you made a bibliography for coming out."
"it wasn't a bibliography."
"what was it?"
"supporting documentation, like dad does on his cases."
that somehow made it worse. you laughed so hard your stomach hurt. for the first time all evening, your son looked less scared than annoyed and grievanced. which was a dramatic improvement.
eventually, after several minutes and far too many jokes at his expense, the room finally settled. your son leaned back in the chair, exhausted. his eyes were still red. his face was still blotchy from crying. but the terror was gone.
in its place was the familiar expression of someone wondering whether he'd made a terrible mistake by telling his parents anything. you reached over and took his hand. immediately, his attention shifted to you. "hey."
he looked down. "hey."
you squeezed gently. "you know none of this changes anything, right? we already said it but...i want you to know it changes nothing. you are still the son we love."
his throat worked as he nodded. you could tell he was trying very hard not to cry again. your dark haired sat beside him and bumped his shoulder lightly. "for the record, son..."
your son glanced up. "what is it?"
"we're actually a little offended."
"...offended?"
"yes, quite a bit."
"why? why is that?"
hiromi looked genuinely serious. "because apparently you thought we'd need three pages and supporting evidence."
you snorted. your son covered his face again. "i didn't know, okay?"
"you could've just asked." you smacked your husband's arm. "what?"
"that's not how anxiety works."
"alright, fair enough."
the room fell quiet, more comfortably this time. your son felt at ease, in a space where there was warmth and safety. this quiet was welcomed. it was the kind of silence he enjoyed, the only that existed between people who didn't need to fill it.
your son stared at the floor for a few seconds before speaking. "so that's it?"
you smiled and nodded. "that's it."
"you're not mad?"
"no. not at all. if anything, we're ecstatic." you said softly. "we're happy you're happy."
"disappointed?"
"absolutely not."
he looked toward hiromi. "dad?"
hiromi stared at him and then sighed dramatically. "well...."
your son immediately tensed. "i knew it."
"i am disappointed about one thing."
your son looked horrified. "what?"
hiromi shook his head. "you came out to your mother twice and only once to me."
there was a beat of silence. then realization struck. your son groaned so loudly it echoed through the room. you started laughing again. "oh my god, that was so corny."
"the movie counts, though."
"it does not."
"you looked her directly in the eyes and said the words."
"i was acting."
"still counts."
"it doesn't."
"you've now come out to your mother twice and your father only once."
"that is not a real statistic."
"it is to me."
you watched your son bury his face in a pillow while your husband looked entirely too pleased with himself. and for the first time in months, maybe years, your son laughed. really laughed. loud enough that tears returned to his eyes.
not from fear.
not from shame.
not from rejection.
just because his family was ridiculous.
and as he sat there surrounded by people who loved him exactly the same as they had an hour ago, the movie's ending finally became something it had never managed to be on screen.
"you know, now that k think about it..." he muttered into the pillow. "you guys could've at least pretended."
you blinked. "pretended what?"
he lifted his head. "i don't know. acted shocked. gasped dramatically. given me something."
"honey, why would we do that?"
"because now i don't even have a story."
you stared at him and then at hiromi. then back at your son. "your complaint is that your coming out was too successful?"
"yes. i mean, i thought i would have an angsty thing, you know?"
"that's the dumbest thing i've ever heard."
"thank you."
"you're welcome."
"seriously, though." he said looking at the two of you. "when people ask how it went, what am i supposed to tell them?"
started replaying X with my partner and no matter how many times i play this game i do get the urge to tear something to pieces with my teeth when i think about professor sycamore for too long. oh sure yeah standard pokemon professor except he’s beautiful, maybe a bit flamboyant. that’s the end of that, right? WRONG, he’s a kind-hearted soul who wants you to understand that everyone in this world is different and that you should embrace and love those differences, especially if you don’t understand them. okay that’s sweet, but then you turn around and he’s friends with and highly praising the guy who is CLEARLY plotting something evil? oh he must be an oblivious ditzy idiot, lolol. except, after everything is turned upside down and lysandre’s plan fails and he’s presumed DEAD, you’re proved WRONG AGAIN, because AUGUSTINE KNEW THE WHOLE TIME. he knew lysandre was going to try something drastic, he knew he was struggling, he knew he did really want a beautiful world, not a destroyed one, and he did nothing. Sycamore Did Nothing And He Regrets It. and you think oh wow that actually really sucks, should’ve would’ve could’ve, though, and then you walk up the stairs to the train station in couriway town and you find a note your professor wrote in his youth, maybe when he was your age, even, asking if you like the person you are now. and you start to think that maybe he doesn’t. not now. how could he?
>First, we’ve discovered that about a quarter of all the internet connection in or out of the house were ad related. In a few hours, that’s about 10,000 out of 40,000 processed.
>We also discovered that every link on Twitter was blocked. This was solved by whitelisting the https://t.co domain.
>Once out browsing the Web, everything is loading pretty much instantly. It turns out most of that Page Loading malarkey we’ve been accustomed to is related to sites running auctions to sell Ad space to show you before the page loads. All gone now.
>We then found that the Samsung TV (which I really like) is very fond of yapping all about itself to Samsung HQ. All stopped now. No sign of any breakages in its function, so I’m happy enough with that.
>The primary source of distress came from the habitual Lemmings player in the house, who found they could no longer watch ads to build up their in-app gold. A workaround is being considered for this.
>The next ambition is to advance the Ad blocking so that it seamlessly removed YouTube Ads. This is the subject of ongoing research, and tinkering continues. All in all, a very successful experiment.
>Certainly this exceeds my equivalent childhood project of disassembling and assembling our rotary dial telephone. A project whose only utility was finding out how to make the phone ring when nobody was calling.
>Update: All4 on the telly appears not to have any ads any more. Goodbye Arnold Clarke!
>Lemmings problem now solved.
>Can confirm, after small tests, that RTÉ Player ads are now gone and the player on the phone is now just delivering swift, ad free streams at first click.
>Some queries along the lines of “Are you not stealing the internet?” Firstly, this is my network, so I may set it up as I please (or, you know, my son can do it and I can give him a stupid thumbs up in response). But there is a wider question, based on the ads=internet model.
>I’m afraid I passed the You Wouldn’t Download A Car point back when I first installed ad-blocking plug-ins on a browser. But consider my chatty TV. Individual consumer choice is not the method of addressing pervasive commercial surveillance.
>Should I feel morally obliged not to mute the TV when the ads come on? No, this is a standing tension- a clash of interests. But I think my interest in my family not being under intrusive or covert surveillance at home is superior to the ad company’s wish to profile them.
>Aside: 24 hours of Pi Hole stats suggests that Samsung TVs are very chatty. 14,170 chats a day.
>YouTube blocking seems difficult, as the ads usually come from the same domain as the videos. Haven’t tried it, but all of the content can also be delivered from a no-cookies version of the YouTube domain, which doesn’t have the ads. I have asked my son to poke at that idea.
Seriously, get and run PiHole if you can. It changes your internet experience so much for the better. I get shocked when I visit a website when I'm someone else's network, by just how many ads the internet is flooded with now. Take back control.
Got a Pi-Hole months ago, absolutely improves internet experience. Only complaint is the recommended starter settings don't block Youtube ads on Smart TV, and of course older family member upset that they can't get points in their mobile game from ads.
Alot of y'all don't pay attention to the dialog in this game n it shows
Emma used to be homeless in XY
Lida can't afford rent at her apartment n lives at the Hotel instead
Naveen lives at the Hotel to escape his hostile Grandma
The wild zones r seen as BAD, Mable constantly complaining about the little research done on em plus the ppl protesting em
The hostile benches r apart of the story telling in the game, Lumiose has become hostile and unfriendly...THATS APART OF THE STORY!!!
Edit: Im also gonna point out how racist y'all sound assuming GameFreak doesn't know wtff anti-homeless benches are. Multi million dollar company and u think they don't know about anti-homeless benches in the grand yr of 2025....(XY doesn't have those benches btww like stop actin dumb)
Japan also has anti-homeless benches dawg don't be stupid now....
vampires are so full of shit. "oh the human race is beneath us, you're just livestock to us" I don't think you know what livestock is. do you feed us? care for us? protect us from predators? no. you just slink around dark alleys and ambush people. that's not what a higher being does. that's a bottom feeder. a parasite. karate punches your head off
You're a Demon Hunter. A rather good one. Unfortunately, a demon has possessed your husband's body. You know it's your duty to kill the demon and free him. But he's way sweeter and kinder than your annoying pos of a husband. He loves cooking and he actually likes your hobbies. Don't fall in love!
The more empathetic and kind men I meet, actually, the MORE I hate bad men. It’s like I’ve seen it proven you don’t have to act this way — I know for a fact that it’s not coded into your biology to disrespect women or be aggressive or be emotionally stunted — you’re literally just a shithead.
dededos
yousharknotpass
pixelskylines
titsay
discoholicmusic
jacobvanloon
