#HE'S THE MALE VERSION OF A WITCH Y'ALL

[number1villainstan]

hopefully i don't forget this in the morning but something something saionji in the StuCo arc being the caricature of an Evil Abusive Patriarchal Man that becomes the focus of people's hatred of the system/patriarchy, the type of villain you'd find in a simplistic surface-level feminist tale, and--crucially--the societal conception of "abuse" and "abuser" that serves to a) deflect conversation about the way societal systems enable abuse and warp it into only blaming individuals/thinking of "abusive" as a personality trait rather than of abuse as a choice and b) make it much, much harder to detect and recognize more insidious, smiling-faced forms of abuse, the kind of abuse that Touga and Akio enact, the kind that leaves psychological marks rather than physical ones

[specifically this is talking about his narrative role in the story as an antagonist and butt monkey, a Doylist approach if you will, rather than his standing within the world of Ohtori (the Watsonian approach)]

[littleeyesofpallas]

In the inevitable, logical extreme of my compulsive fixation on Bleach and on cropping images into little squares all the damn time, I've finally put together what is, to the best of my knowledge, the most complete waifu tier list for Kubo characters, plus a few that he technically didn't design himself but felt in-line enough with the franchise lore and/or aesthetic that I included them.

So, go ahead and have at it, y'all...

Random notes:

I struggled to keep the list manageable, and ultimately cut a pretty sizable number of basically non-characters. (it was legitimately difficult for me to convince my brain to let me remove Hitugaya and Momo's unnamed grandma from the list...)

It also really fukin killed me to make the arbitrary call to use the most aged/recent versions of most characters because a handful definitely got bad new outfits in Kubo's post-epilogue art. (Hiyori and Unagiya really lost their charm points in his Klub Outside calendar set)

I was so tempted to include different forms for some characters, but deciding who got their forms in and others not felt too inconsistent, so i just opted out of them entirely

But more to the point I also included in this list characters from Kubo's early one-shots, Zombie Powder, Burn the Witch, Sakura Wars(2019), Aoi Bungaku, Dragon Quest X, and that one time he did Gorillaz fanart...

Oh and if it wasn't clear the Arrancar I included and labeled by Resurreccion rather than name, were done as such because their swords are specifically gendered feminine in how they were named. And considering the nature of both zanpakutou and the hollow mask themselves as reflections of inner/true self, I considered that valid Waifu material

And no I will not be making one for Bleach husbandos because there's just too damn many male characters by comparison, and because my compulsivity crossed with Kubo's lopsided art preferences would mean, unlike the fairly scant number of background women, a huge chunk of the men that I'd be obligated to include would just be decidedly unattractive goons by, like, the dozens...

[reading-giraffe]

Empire of Storms: Review

Amazon (If you shop using this link, I will earn a small commission at no additional cost to you.)

Summary

Okokok so Aelin's team is officially assembled. We've got:

Aelin

Rowan

Aedion

Dorian

Lysandra

Gavriel

Fenrys

Lorcan

Elide

Manon

Fam is trying to figure out how to re-situate in Terrasen. Long story short, the lords of Terrasen are like "Who do you know here?" and send fam on their way telling them to try again later.

The Ironteeth witches are ordered to sack Rifthold, destroy Aelin's iconic glass wall, and kill King Dorian. By the end of it, Rifthold is sacked, glass wall is destroyed, but Dorian is saved by Manon who obviously has heart eyes for the guy 😍

Manon gets into an epic throwdown with her grandmother during which she makes her escape, tells her Thirteen to escape, and learns that she's half Ironteeth and half Krocken witch.

Y'all, the lineages of these people is KILLING MEEE

Aelin = Mala + Gavin Havilliard

Manon = Ironteeth + Krocken

Elide = Human + Ironteeth

Aedion = Gavriel + Human

you get the gist. At some point in the book, SJM points out the fortuitous gene-scrambling and how all of these people are intersecting at a very interesting time for the universe. THANK YOU for pointing that out ma'am!

Manon and Elide flee, the 13 scramble out of there, and Manon ditches Elide in a forest. Poor limpy Elide is doing her darn best to find Aelin. Lorcan Salvaterre is stalking Elide because he, too, is tryng to find Aelin by blood oath order of Queen Maeve 👿. Lorcan and Elide start falling for each other, and Elide's dark twisty background comes to light.

Fam ends up meeting Captain Rolf at Skull's Bay and some CRAZY shit goes down.

Truths come to light, Fam + Manon + Lorcan/Elide meet up with military friendos at the marshes/beach and a huge battle ensues against Maeve's forces. Maeve is a sneaky bitch and ends up taking Aelin for torture and severing the blood oath bonds with Gavriel and Lorcan. Poor Fenrys is stuck bound to her, but tbh I doubt he would leave if he could because his twin is one of her sex slaves.

------------------

Elide Lochan + Lorcan Salvaterre

THEY'RE SO CUTE!! I love how Lorcan uses his magic to support Elide on her limp. This is a typical love story by SJM where they are standoffish for a bit, then they get to reveal their dark twisty stories, and they fall in love. But are they mates? Is it possible for a fae male to be mates with a human female?? Is she secretly FAE?!

Also, love the little detail that Elide's mother is Marian -- the woman who saved Aelin's life at the cost of her own when Aelin was 8. Elide and Aelin share this unique bond in that way.

---------------

"Where is my wife?"

I am so emotional having just finished this. I listen to the audiobooks on my commute to/from work and I was fighting back tears as I was driving. I'm going to need to have a TOG hangover for a bit before I start the next one. Now that I'm married (pretty recently actually) and I'm starting to understand what it would mean for my husband to be taken so brutally like Aelin was, I was so impacted by the ending scene.

Out of all of the books so far, this is a very eventful one. I couldn't follow all the intricate plotlines very well, but that could be because I didn't have the visual book and was just listening to it. I wish the audiobook came with a map or a timeline or something so I could track what was going on.

Because Empire of Storms is so eventful, I don't want to put too much in this post because I don't want to spoil it.

Audiobook, paperback and hardcover versions on Amazon

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

The villains of the MCU

PHASE 1

Iron Man: Capitalist father figure (but not really)

The Incredible Hulk: Russian-British man who wants to be the Hulk so bad

Iron Man 2: Angry Russian man who blames Tony for his problems

Thor: Jealous little brother who just found out he was adopted

Captain America - The First Avenger: Super Nazi (but not really since he cut ties with the Nazis)

The Avengers: Jealous little brother is back and this time, he's got an army

----------------------

PHASE 2

Iron Man 3: A "nice guy" toxic nerd who formed his own company

Thor the Dark World: Generic Lord of the Rings villain

Captain America - The Winter Soldier: The War on Terror / American foreign policy

Guardians of the Galaxy: Really angry blue man who is angry that his people chose peace over war

Avengers - Age of Ultron: Robot Pinocchio who wants to kill everyone after surfing the Internet

Ant-Man: Generic capitalist villain

----------------------

PHASE 3

Captain America - Civil War: Regular human who just wants the Avengers to be held accountable for their actions

Doctor Strange: Evil sorcerer who worships CGI Benedict Cumberbatch

Guardians of the Galaxy - Vol. II: The deadbeat dad who comes back home and tries to pretend that he didn't abandon his kid for years

Spider-Man Homecoming: Working-class father who got screwed over by bureaucracy and billionaires

Thor Ragnarok: The long-lost sister who your estranged father didn't tell you about

Black Panther: Revolutionary who wants to stop imperialism with imperialism

Avengers - Infinity War: E̶r̶e̶n̶ ̶J̶a̶e̶g̶e̶r̶ Purple, space Hitler

Ant-Man and the Wasp: A woman who just wants to live

Captain Marvel: The "I was just following orders" guy trying to explain their horribleness

Avengers - Endgame: Purple, space Hitler round 2

Spider-Man - Far From Home: Fake news

----------------------

PHASE 4 (so far)

WandaVision: Witch who is having too much fun messing with people

Falcon and the Winter Soldier: V for Vendetta

----------------------

ABC SHOWS

Agents of SHIELD S1: Abusive father figure who makes his kids kill dogs

Agents of SHIELD S2: Creepy mad scientist / Long-lost mom who is just trying to protect her people

Agents of SHIELD S3: That one guy who you thought was cute until you learned he was a Nazi / Squid monster who is somehow a founder of fascism

Agents of SHIELD S4: Robot yandere who just wants some love

Agents of SHIELD S5: Alien overlord from the future / Military man who gets possessed by liquid gravity

Agents of SHIELD S6: A literal Incan goddess

Agents of SHIELD S7: Bootleg Joker

Agent Carter S1: Evil Sigmund Freud

Agent Carter S2: A Hollywood actress who is revealed to be a mad scientist

Inhumans: Bootleg Loki

----------------------

NETFLIX

Daredevil S1: Mobster who can't control his temper

Daredevil S2: Immortal ninja who performs blood rituals

Daredevil S3: Mobster who can't control his temper...but now he's even more pissed

Jessica Jones S1: Selfish rapist who just discovered love for the first time

Jessica Jones S2: Long-lost mom who has gone insane

Jessica Jones S3: Best friend/sister-figure who went bad because of envy and insecurity

Luke Cage S1: Half-brother who quotes the Bible because...it's scary, I guess

Luke Cage S2: The two leaders of a gang war. One uses pocket sand as a weapon, the other has a Game of Thrones backstory

Iron Fist S1: Corrupt businessman who has ties with magic ninjas

Iron Fist S2: Magic ninja version of the Punisher

The Defenders: A clan of magic ninjas led by Ellen Ripley

The Punisher S1: The military industrial complex

The Punisher S2: Y'all Qaeda / Christian extremists

----------------------

HULU AND FREEFORM

Runaways: Aliens and witches (so, two of Sam Wilson's big three)

Cloak and Dagger S1: Oil tycoons

Cloak and Dagger S2: Junko Enoshima, the Ultimate Despair but if she was a black, male, jazz musician

Helstrom: Literal demon daddy

[mayaplayssim3]

It's been awhile but I definitely want to start posting more. I'm currently living for my supernatural save so I feel like I need to formally introduce y'all to the head witch in charge, Zaria Sterling.

Backstory:

Zaria Sterling arrived in Moonlight Falls with a suitcase, a bad temper, and a cryptic letter from her recently deceased grandmother informing her of her inheritance and legacy as the last witch of her kind to posses a unique and divine energy. Zaria was originally born in Moonlight Falls, but when she was a few months old, her grandmother hastily sent her and her father away after her mother died following a tragic event involving other magical beings. They settled in Bridgeport where Zaria's father hid his magic, choosing to lead a quiet, ordinary life as a teacher. He taught his daughter to conceal her own and insisted it was for protection. Never fully recovering from the death of his wife, he passed away shortly after Zaria's eighteenth birthday.

Over the last six years later, Zaria kept afloat through the generosity of a grandmother who financially supported her life of partying and bad decisions in the city, but maintained a strict distance in terms of actual contact. Comfortable in her loneliness and brooding with questions about her family history, Zaria doesn't know what to make of Moonlight Falls. A town where everyone seems to already know who she is.

Though Zaria isn't sure of her next steps, her grandmother has laid out a destiny for her predetermined fate. A renowned witch in her own right, Efia Sterling, Zaria's grandmother, knew of the greatness yet to come. In addition to a glorious house situated in the center of town, Efia made sure her granddaughter would be protected by her most trusted allies in the form of two roommates. Castor Lennox, Efia's former research fellow and skilled witch himself, and Forrest Hawthorne, Castor's best friend and loyal traveling companion. Both were left instructions. For Castor, to guide and teach Zaria about her powerful magic, and for Forrest, to help her manage her anger (something he himself often struggled with on a full moon). But above all else, they would protect her from what was yet to come. And of course, it's only right that there's a ton of sexual tension between these three!

Credits: Since I have no business making male sims, Castor is a tweaked version of the brilliant @gaiahypothesims's RORY Sim and Forrest is based on Conlan. Thank you for your gorgeous sims!

[jason-todd-deserved-better]

Illyrian Fae AU - Damian Wayne x Reader Headcanon

Summary: Most humans should be indoors before the sun sets, but you, on the other hand, get held up at work. Will you make it safely back home or does certain doom come into your future.

A/N: Hello hello hello, it’s been a good minute since I’ve done a headcanon let alone actually post anything in over a month. Hehehe... I’m sorry. I’ve been working on other stories, one you guys have been asking me to post for the past six months. ( It’s Tim’s version of WttDCU, I swear I haven’t abandoned it, just that story I’m doing a little differently, and it keeps getting longer the more I try, so maybe I’ll make it two parts? Maybe 3? IDK perhaps longer?) But anyway I’ve been mulling this idea over in my head the past few months, and so I’m doing another series, but this time the boys are all different mythical creatures. Plus if you’ve read A Court of Thorns and Roses series by Sarah J. Maas, then you’d know this is where I got the idea to make Damian a fae with bat wings. I’m very cheesy. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you guys think! Love Y'all! Also, I don’t think this needs to be said but I’m doing so anyway, this is an Older Damian Wayne.

Most days you can make it home with enough time to make sure that there was still sunlight outside so you would have enough time to buy groceries if you wanted and make it back in relative safety before things got bad.

Tonight was not one of those nights.

Plus you needed to get a bag of dog food because you ran out the night before and you didn’t have anything else for the big German Shepherd that is probably snoozing on the couch at this very moment.

You had got out of work fairly late today, but the sun was still out, so you prayed to the gods that you’d make home before any creature, beast or ill-intended human, were out and about.

But as you walked outside the doors, plastic bags of groceries hanging in each of your hands, the pink and now mostly purple hues of dusk were there to welcome you.

Cursing under your breath, you now wished you had gone to the apartment and brought along Ember with you, he’d be able to ward off any unwanted attention.

Sadly, you didn’t have your dog, and you had to take the walk home alone.

Oh how you wished you just went home, you thought.

Walking along the sidewalk, you watched the sunset, your pace along with your pulse hurrying the more it fell in the sky.

You weren’t fast enough.

You were a mere few feet away from your apartment complexes entrance before you were pulled into the dark alleyway, head banging against the brick wall you were pushed up against.

Too stunned to move you felt your assailant’s body press you up on the wall, breathing along your neck.

A vampire, you thought, your fight or flight response flaring up as you now struggle as hard as you could.

Which did absolutely nothing to release you from his grip.

”No use fighting, Little Morsel,” The male takes a good whiff of your neck, opening his mouth to reveal his pointed fangs. “I’m starving.”

Just as you thought that he was going to stick his teeth into you, a force pulled off the vampire and without anything now holding you up, you slid down the wall watching the scene in front of you with shocked eyes.

The vampire was now aggressively fighting against your rescuer, but he was no match for the sheer power he was up against.

The fight was too fast for your human eyes, other than a few glimpses of the two going across the whole alleyway.

And as fast as it started, it ended with the now limp body of the vampire being haphazardly thrown away from your rescuer, a piece of wood from a crate at the dead end of the alleyway poking out of his chest.

The male's back was facing you, looking at the body of the vampire.

But your eyes weren’t looking at that, but the large memberous black wings of a bat that were folded neatly to his back in the tight alleyway, but they trailed upward, your mind going a mile a minute as you saw his pointed ears.

Fae. Illyrian.

Strong by blood and warrior by culture and species, oh man what did you get yourself into?

Usually, they’d stay as far away from humans as possible. Why the hell did he help you?

Slowly pushing yourself up on the wall, you were about to high-tail it out of there, but then you see a large gash on his leg.

And you hesitate.

Oh, you were going to regret this.

”H-Hey, are you okay?”

Turning his head slightly his electric green eyes give you an odd look.

”Shouldn’t you be running home now, girl?” His face held a deadpan expression.

”You’re the one bleeding here, not me,” You said, a slight bite sneaking into your voice.

”And you’re a walking blood bag out in the open at night.”

This male has got to be joking.

”Dude, you are literally bleeding,” You motion to his leg with your hand, “I know that the Vamps don’t like the taste of Fae, but the starving ones will eat just about anything,”

He turned around, his mouth opening to say something else but he stumbles slightly as he uses his injured leg.

He catches himself on the wall, cursing under his breath.

Sighing, you slowly step closer, “Look, my apartment is the next building, I got a first-aid kit that you could use.”

”Why.” Was his emotionless response.

You could feel your eye twitch, “Because you are bleeding out in the open, Vampire Chow.”

He lets out an amused chuckle, ”Heh, look at who is talking, human.”

So this is how you end up helping a 200 something pound mass of muscle and wings, up the staircase and into your apartment.

Ember was shocked and terrified of the Illyrian Fae that was now taking his spot on the couch.

You had left to find the kit in your bathroom, and when you came back to the living room, where you found them in the same place you had left them, staring each other down,

There was a lot of malice coming from Ember’s end.

None was coming from the Fae’s, just a hint of confusion as he sat with his wings hanging off the back of the couch.

Geez, he was huge.

”He’s just protective,” You say, putting the supplies on the couch next to him, “Most of the time he’s a couch potato though,”

He lets out a grunt in understanding, so you take this time to get the wound cleaned out.

”Hey aren’t these things supposed to heal on their own though?” You say starting to disinfect the wound.

”Vampires have a venom that makes it harder for a wound to close,” His voice was condescending as if you should have known this by now.

”Huh,” Was all you responded, now putting an ointment that would close the wound in a couple of hours.

You have got to love a witches’ potion that helps instead of harm.

Once you finished wrapping up his wound, he didn’t stay long; he left saying that he would be fine since his wings were just fine.

He didn’t even say thank you.

But whatever, you just were ready to put this day behind you, grateful to be alive.

A couple of weeks pass, and unfortunately, you find yourself in the same predicament as you did before, stuck out in the night alone.

”You seriously are as stupid as you look.” A voice says less than an inch from the back of your ear.

You let out an undignified yelp, turning around to face the smug look of the Illyrian’s face.

”D-Don’t do that!” You squeak.

”Well don’t be out at night, stupid human.”

Your eyes narrow, “FIrst off I ain’t stupid, I just have the worst luck ever, and what the hell are doing here dude?”

”Making sure you make it back in one piece, wouldn’t want Ember to be left alone.”

This took you off guard. “Okay Bats, my dog was giving you the stink eye the whole time you were there, why would you care?”

”There are only two truly innocent beings out there, animals and children. Last time I checked your dog counts as one,” Again he goes with the whole attitude bit

That left you speechless and motionless.

You only snapped back to reality when he grabbed you by the arm and started to drag you to your apartment.

”Yo, I don’t need you to walk me there!” You say, surprising yourself when you were able to pull yourself away.

He turned his head slightly, “Well I’m the best bet you got from the two humans waiting to mug you just around the next block.”

”Wait- How-”

”Fae ears, girl.”

”Of freaking course…”

So the two of you now set off towards the apartment, and when you pass the block, you see two men at the entrance of the alley, who back up once they see the Fae’s strong wings displayed defensively.

Rolling your eyes, you mutter, “Got to love Gotham…”

Bats’ only reaction was a smug half-smile that stayed on his face as he made sure you made it to the apartment safely.

This cycle continued every time you had to work late and weren’t able to make it home before the sunset.

Hell one time he just lifted you and flew you home.

You weren’t happy about it, and you might have given him a good kick in the stomach.

He was an ass for the rest of the night.

Though he never just up and carried you away, he learned his lesson.

But unfortunately, it was happening more often than you were leaving work late.

And he noticed.

”Seriously, why do you keep doing this to yourself, stupid human?” He questioned, clearly annoyed.

You groan in exasperation, “Can you stop calling me that?! I’ve got a name, and I don’t have a damn choice.”

”What do you mean you don’t have a choice,” He questions, pulling you to look at him. “And you’ve never have given me your name.”

”If I don’t do what I need to do then I get fired, do you know how hard I worked to get that job? Extremely!” You yell, yanking your arm from his grip and walking away from him, “Plus, you never gave me yours so why should I give you mine?”

You hear him growl behind you, walking to catch up.

”It’s Damian, are you happy now?” He said, standing in front of you.

You stop, looking into his fiery green eyes, not able to hold their gaze for long, the rest of the walk spent in silence until you make it to the door of your complex.

But before you do, he stops you by grabbing your wrist and with the other, he puts a card in it.

”Call this number, tell them that you’re looking for a position and that I recommended you to them.”

You stand there, looking at the card until you feel him pull him away, turning his back to leave.

”W-Wait, Damian!” You stutter, “It’s (Y/N),”

He turns around a surprised expression on his face until a small smile grows across his face as he extends his wings and with a powerful thrust, he’s gone.

The next day you call the number on the card, and before you knew it, you have a job interview.

A couple of days later you were now the new employee at Wayne Enterprises.

And while there was a lot of work, you were a lot better there than you were at your old job.

You would miss the nightly walks that you would have with Damian though, oddly enough.

But you didn't have to wait long before you saw him again.

This time though, he was knocking at your fire escape window a couple of hours after you got home.

Laughing slightly, you opened the window, “Guess you missed me, Dami,”

”You know what, I prefer Bats better.” He says, getting himself in.

”Too bad, this one has now stuck to you.” You joke.

Rolling his green eyes, you felt a sort of fondness from them.

”You look better by the way, less stressed,” He states plainly, sitting on your couch.

”Yeah, thanks for that by the way.” You say next to him, “You didn’t need to do that,”

”It’s safer for you.” He says plainly.

”Still, thank you, Damian.” You smile towards him, feeling at ease with him with you.

”It’s no problem, (Y/N).” When his eyes meet yours, you felt almost an electric charge by the way he was looking at you.

Then a question pops into your mind ”Oh by the way how did you-”

”That is for me to know and you to find out.”

Ugh, how you hate the whole mysterious and cryptic crap.

For the rest of the night, you guys talked, watched a movie and Damian even got to pet Ember for once.

But throughout the night he took glimpses of you, sometimes you’d catch him, but others you didn’t.

Oh if only you knew what was going on in his mind.

He left before dinner, said he had things to do before the night was done.

This was now the new tradition you guys had he’d come to your house and chill out, and then he’d leave before dinner.

Then came the day of the Wayne Gala that all the employees were invited to.

After your lunch break, you found a jewelry box on top of your desk.

Inside, you found a silver necklace with a silver chain and a pendant with a green stone in the center and surrounding it were clear crystals, making a circle around it.

Plus there was a matching pair of earrings.

And they looked like real diamonds and emeralds, but you were kind of too scared to think of them as real because who would give them to you????

Looking around there was no one else there as you were the first one there back from lunch, so you put it in your purse and got to work.

Anyway, the event was held every year at the Wayne manor, and you were nervous as you got ready for it.

Standing in front of your mirror, in a beautiful but simple black dress with the short sleeves hanging off your shoulders.

It was sexy but elegant, and something that you would typically not wear, but you were rocking it.

After putting on your makeup, you eye the jewelry box, debating on wearing them or not.

The next thing you knew, they were on you, and you were ready to go.

At the gala, you were talking to one of your coworkers, a Were who was a mother of two who took this opportunity to take a break from the kids when you felt an arm tap your shoulder.

Turning around, you see a man with bright blue eyes and a roguish smile, holding out his hand. “Would you care to dance?”

Before you could answer a no, you felt a muscled arm wrap itself around your waist possessively.

”No Jason, she wouldn’t,” Damian said, pulling you closer.

To your surprise, the man smiled knowingly and with a joking undertone said, “Oh man, Dami, look at you growing up.”

With a growl Damian walks the two of you away, his hold never faltering.

Okay, you were in need of answers, and now.

He must see it in your face because he stops you guys in an empty part of the manor.

”Okay, Damian talk.”

And to your surprise he does.

Turns out Damian is only half fae, his father is pure mortal, while his mother is Illyrian.

He has a crap ton of siblings, all of then a different species.

But the thing that freaked you out the most didn’t even come out of his mouth but from two spying brother’s who knew what Damian was avoiding trying to tell you.

”You guys are mates!” You hear a male voice say, then a clear “OW” right afterward.

Both yours and Damian's eyes widen, and you can physically see Damian pale in horror, which was a first for everyone in that room.

He wanted to tell you, but he didn’t think you’d want to be with him, at least like that.

He felt something the night he rescued you.

He grew suspicious of it when he’d grow protective while walking down the street.

And for awhile he knew that the connection between the two of you was there when you told him your name.

But the burden was his to bare if you didn’t accept it.

He just wanted to you to be happy, and if wasn’t with him then he’d find a way to live with it.

You were shocked, you had heard about how some faes had a connection snapped with a female, how they’d form a mental bond if they both accept each other as theirs.

But it made sense to you, it just felt right.

Damian didn’t speak much after that; you saw evident anger in his eyes that wasn’t directed at you but towards the voice around the corner. (It was Jason with Dick by the way.)

The two of you didn’t stay long after that.

You were about to order an Uber before Damian just lifted you off and flew you off to your apartment.

This time you didn’t kick him.

Again it was just an unsettling quiet between the two of you.

It was off-putting.

Once he landed on the fire escape, he let you down, but he wouldn’t meet your gaze.

”Damian…” You say, not knowing where to start.

”Look, if you don’t want anything to do with me like that,” He lets out a shaky breath, “Then I’ll leave you be,”

”But Damian-”

”I just want you to be happy (Y/N), even if it’s not with me-” He was interrupted by your hand on his cheek, pulling his face to look at yours.

”Damian, I want to be with you,” You state, caressing his cheek. “Come inside, I haven’t eaten anything all night, and I’m pretty sure you haven’t either.”

”(Y/N), you know what that means, right?”

Yep, you did, it means that you’d except the bond.

”I wouldn’t be offering if I didn’t.” You say, a smile growing on your face.

He kisses you, pouring his soul into it, and that night you guys finally became one.

[blackrockandrollmusic-blog]

The Atomic Dog: George Clinton is hustler, preacher, poet, and pimp of the congregation of funky bloods whose doos are always laid, whose rhythms are always mashing and whose stage rags range from sci-fi to birthday suits. Splib hustlers and hip ofays, it’s funk time again.

Where it all began is a barbershop in Plainfield, New Jersey, back in the early '60s. Before he was cutting vinyl, George Clinton was cutting hair; before he got involved with the recording process, my man was chemically processing hair-mixing down wave, curl, and conk jobs for all the slick splib hustlers that ran the streets of Plainfield. We know now that this cat had a lot more on his mind than snipping naps and knotting up doo-rags for the rest of his natural born life.

Along with a couple other barbers and a few high school chums, Clinton organized a doo-wop group named Parliament. Modeling themselves after groups like the Temptations and the Four Tops, they gigged around until Clinton one day got the bold idea to head for Detroit and try to bogart his way into a Motown recording deal. So Clinton and crew wind up in '65 with a minor hit, "I Wanna Testify," on Motown subsidiary Revilot. For whatever reason, Berry Gordy decided he had enough male vocal combos in his stable, and Parliament languished on the label until Clinton decided to strike out on his own. Problem was, Motown owned the name Parliament, and so Funkadelic was born--out of desperation, the Parliament back-up band, and Clinton's warped notion of fusing the hippie counterculture with parodies of black pop, pimp, and prayer culture.

Between 1968 and 1975, you opened up a Funkadelic record and you couldn't guess what was coming next — a straight-faced take on the Fifth Dimension, like "Can You Get to That," or a heavy-metal hydrogen bomb test like "Super Stupid." And go figure Cosmic Slop, where the title track, about a welfare mother who pimps for the devil, is followed by a country-swing ditty, "No Compute (Spit Don't Make Babies)," about a hard dick on the prowl who raps like a poolhall version of Jimi Hendrix and waxes philosophic the morning after about being turned out by a transvestite. If that's not enough there's "March to the Witch's Castle." A fairyland goof? Nope, a holy-roller preacher's benediction for soldiers returning from Vietnam—and maybe the only song of the period that embraced the Vets as wounded mortals rather than as babykillers.

Get the picture? If so, you're doing better than the mass record-buying public of the period, black and white. Because in the main, Funkadelic was too wacky for the souled-out splibs and too black for the spazz whiteys who believed hard rock only came in caucasoid and got nothing to do with bloods getting happy feet besides.

Then Clinton struck the mama lode with 1975's Mothership Connection. This one was the turning point, alright. Not only did it give Clinton his first gold album and launch P-Funk as damn near a musical genre in its own right, but most important, it provided the impetus for the Mothership tour, which in turn begat the Funkentelechy vs. the Placebo Syndrome "flashlight" tour, which begat the Clones of Dr Funkenstein tour, which gave rise to the One Nation under a Groove anti-tour--all barnstorming black guerrilla theater extravaganzas that between roughly 1977 and 1980 made P-Funk seem a cross between the old Apollo and the circus.

Having written off Clinton as a has-been in 1981, few expected the success he found upon the release of 1983's Atomic Dog. Those few who weren't surprised weren't just diehards, they were folk who knew that if nothing else, George Clinton was a longtime survivor of the vicissitudes of the American music business. George Clinton is as cagey a ringmaster and self-promoter as P.T. Barnum, as charming a stage ham as Fats Waller, as charismatic a bandleader as Duke Ellington, as hardworking a showman as anybody else this side of James Brown.

Listen to Clinton's lyrics and you find him playing plenty roles: hustler, preacher, poet, pimp, professor, psychoanalyst, student of politics and sexual manners, carny barker, soulman, swingmeister, bebopper, doo-wopper, druggy, subliminal seducer, free spirit. And the band he leads is the best rock band in America.

Like some folk live for Sunday morning prayer meeting, I live for the gestalt achieved by these virtuosi. And for the image of Clinton—his living death-head's grin spreading across his Nubian mug like the stitchings on the Frankenstein monster's neck, teeth strung cadaverously from jawbone to jawbone, his limbs and torso madly whipping the crowd's emotions until they're all feeling the funk as much to the fullness as he is. Ain't nobody got fans that know as much about pure musical possession as funkateers, unless we talking disciples of vodun, juju, or hoodoo. We are a tribe unto ourselves, y'all, with our own language, lore, rites of passage, and articles of faith. One nation under a groove.

If George's rap is the positive side of P-Funk, the down side is what you'll find in the margins from the mouths of the men who've propped up Clinton's thang for lo these many years and are now crying the blues of unpaid-for dues, misspent youths, and sacrificed creative muses. You're gonna ask yourself why, if this cat seems so righteous, has he treated these bloods so badly, and why, even more outrageously, they keep hanging in for more abuse. Ahh, but I told you we're talking church here, family even, as well as coldblooded business. And as much as George took from these guys he gave back. And dem's da facts. Now, here's the funkies.