#I need to feel myself getting nuked out of existence thank you very much

[unma]

I thought Dimensional Cleave had been weakened. Little did I know that I was just getting lucky while farming. Today alone I've eaten a few that completely nuked my 50k+ hp team turn 1, and I can confirm, that shit can Dimensional Cleave.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading update: june 2023

as promised (to myself) I spent all of gay months reading books by and/or about the gays, no exceptions! (unless you count the heaps of old Batman comics I was reading, but come on. it's all pretty fruity.) the trend will be continuing into July as well because I overshot and still have book I need to finish, so in the immortal words of Janelle Monáe: happy pride forever!

anyway, what have I actually been reading?

Empress of Forever (Max Gladstone, 2019) - man, I've been meaning to read this FOREVER! and I'm glad I finally did. Gladstone's space opera follows ultrawealthy tech genius Vivian Liao, a sort of dykey Lex Luthor who's CERTAIN that she's the good guy. okay, yes, she's trying to get control of the nukes, but she's not going to use them. it's just that the world's a mess and she needs to be in charge. unfortunately our girl Vivian doesn't get far in her master plan before she's transported across the galaxy and finds herself on the run from the all-powerful Empress in the company of a cybernetic monk named Hong and the legendary space pirate Zanj, the Empress' greatest enemy. from there our heroes are off on a slow, messy quest across the galaxy as they make new friends, grow as people, and strive to bring the Empress down. it's a very long book and can feel slow in places, but all of the time devoted to fleshing out the characters ultimately pays off as their stories converge into a resonant narrative about the notion of identity and what it means to be yourself. if you like Becky Chambers' Wayfarer books of the Guardians of the Galaxy movies, get on this shit.

also hey listen Max Gladstone is having a bit of a Moment rn; the book he coauthored with Amal El-Mohtar, This Is How You Lose the Time War, is getting a huge boost thanks to the Trigun (????) fandom??? over on Twitter, and you should definitely go check it out

Not Gay: Sex Between Straight White Men (Jane Ward, 2016) - Ward is a brilliant queer feminist writer; rigorous and insightful while keeping her work imminently readable. while the title may sound facetious, Ward actually takes entirely at face value that there are men having sex with each other an engaging in otherwise homoerotic activities - mutual jerkoffs, hazing rituals that involve anal penetration - that sincerely aren't stemming from a place of gay desire and asks us what the fuck we're supposed to make of that. what results is a fascinating look at masculinity and the intricate rituals that both subvert and maintain it. shockingly thought provoking for a book that contains so many transcribed craigslist posts of men looking for straight guys to have totally normal hetero dudesex with!

The Latinos of Asia: How Filipinos Break the Rules of Race (Anthony Christian Ocampo, 2016) - I was lucky enough to get to see Ocampo (who is gay) speaking at the National Conference on Race and Ethnicity this year, and naturally I had to buy one of his books while I was there. I strongly suspect he's about to become one of my new favorite nonfiction writers, because the Latinos of Asia was a brilliant read that I really couldn't put down. Ocampo (who's also Filipino!) delves into the formation of Filipino-Americans' racial identity, and finds that many feel caught between the most conventionally accepted racial categories - feeling alienated from the idea of Asian identity, which is often perceived as pertaining to East Asians like Chinese, Japanese, and Koreans, and instead relating much more firmly to Mexican-Americans and other Latinos. it's a FASCINATING study on race and one (of many!) loopholes that exists in this very large, messy, totally made up construct of race.

A Lady for a Duke (Alexis Hall, 2022) - for my pride month romance novel I wanted to read something that I might actually like. I've previously adored Hall's genre-fucking ultra-queer Sherlock Holmes pastiche, the Affair of the Mysterious Letter, and Lady for a Duke was really well-reviewed, so my hopes were high! and you know what? I fucking loved this. it was like cotton candy, perfectly sweet and made to be inhaled without a second thought. Our Heroine Viola was the heir to an estate who faked her death at Waterloo so that she could run away and be herself - that's right baby, this is a 19th century trans lady romance! she reconnects with her old BFF the Duke of Gracewood, who's been catatonically depressed since losing his best friend in the war, and reader, you will not believe what happens next. just kidding, you totally will: they want to kiss each other so bad! they're yearning so bad and it's great. it's a very silly book and Gracewood is the most unexpectedly forward-thinking 19th century duke EVER who is instantly down to accept Viola entirely as a woman and thinks that having biological children is overrated, and you know what? that rules. I'm not reading this book for historical accuracy I'm reading it to watch a man beg his girlfriend to fuck him tenderly in the ass. and she does!!! if I'm being honest everything after they finally hook up is kind of nonsense and the book probably is too long, but god it's a delightful time.

Chlorine (Jade Song, 2023) - back in the days of twitter I started following Jade Song as soon as they announced selling this book, the story of a competitive high school swimmer succumbing to obsession as she fantasizes about becoming a mermaid. finally getting to pick up the book from the library and actually read it felt crazy after existing in potentia for so long! while Song's novel is a little rough in some places in exactly the way I expect from a debut, it's still gripping and visceral. our protagonist lives in an intense and demanding world, striving to please an overly handsy coach, wanting to please the immigrant parents she can barely speak to, stumbling through sex with boys on her team while longing for her female best friend. through it all she fixates on mermaids, and the story is told in flashbacks building up to a drastic act of self-mutilation at a swim meet. it's definitely not the right book for the faint of heart or anyone looking for feel-good fluff, but it's harrowing in the best way.

Vagabonds! (Eloghosa Osunde, 2022) - gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous! Osunde celebrates queer life - those called vagabonds, society's outliers - in Lagos, Nigeria, slipping between the real world of social stigma, oppressive religion, judgmental family, and dangerous politics, and the world of magic, gods, and the unreal, blending the two together in an effortlessly dizzying effect. the ultrawealthy hide behind layers of flawless masks to conceal their identities, a lonely woman dying of cancer summons up a daughter than only she can see, and a young man channels the devil to raise his murdered lover. while the stories start bleak, firmly establishing the danger of life on the margins, they gather speed with increasing warmth and love as the story progresses, eventually bringing all of our protagonists together in glorious, life-affirming celebration of vagabonds and all who love them. Nigeria, in Osunde's hands, reads much like family - imperfect, sometimes even awful, but also capable of harboring tremendous love, surprising tenderness, and still worth holding out hope for. I think measuring books in terms of relatability is a fool's game, but as an American queer watching more and more legislation and persecution roll out against my people each day, it was hard not to feel a cord being struck. Vagabonds! is a beautiful reminder that queer resilience is eternal, and reader, I did cry.

Quietly Hostile (Samantha Irby, 2023) - I was a ride or die bitch for Sam Irby even before she picked up and moved to my small Michigan city, effectively becoming my neighbor. (not really, but she is married to the mother of a friend of a friend, so.) despite this, I will freely admit that I was a little underwhelmed by her last release, 2020's Wow, No Thank You. it's possible that WNTY was damned by its March 2020 release, putting it in the awkward position of being a humorous essay collection creeping out into the world at a time when everyone was paranoid and nothing was funny; maybe on a reread I would receive it a bit more warmly. Quietly Hostile, on the other hand, is just stupid funny right out of the gate. Sam Irby is old (see: in her early 40s) and going downhill, writing candidly about peeing her pants everywhere, adopting a rancid little dog, getting sent to the hospital with a severe allergic reaction, and jacking off to plot-heavy porn of elderly lesbian nuns. it takes a little bit of work to get me to actually laugh out loud at a book but man, I was chortling. if you don't already know her work, this is a sign from god (me) to check Samantha Irby out now.

what am I reading now?

Black Water Sister (Zen Cho, 2021) - the was one of the oldest queer novels(TM) on my list and I really wanted to knock it out for pride month. the Malaysian setting and culture is a welcome addition to contemporary urban fantasy, but I'm not sure I'm crazy about the story overall. and yet, I'm over 200 pages deep and don't want to give up, so ? I guess I'm persisting.

Giovanni's Room (James Baldwin, 1956) - my local library lost their copy just in time for pride month, so I bought one on ebay for all of nine dollars. haven't started yet, but I'm really excited to finally pop that proverbial Baldwin cherry!

[postsfromtheportalfuture]

Earthenby-notpromumordad to nextstephome

Thanks for your posts about Pro parents. As one myself - I'm already seeing one of my kids (professionally) drift away from me. Trying to continue sending supportive messages, trying to not lose them, but... On the bright side, one of my bio kids who went low/no contact has been sending me messages again, and has apparently actually told his partner about my existence! And explained why. Luckily, despite his partner being annoyed at the lie, recent newsie coverage has made it clear why, and they are still together. They don't have a lot of credits - he moved to the frontier - and previously my son told his partner I disaproved of that. I didn't, but it was the cover he used. Maybe I should be angry and hurt about the years I missed, but...they've decided to save up credits to come for a visit. I'm going to get to meet my grandkids!

Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I, and all the ProParents out there, are very grateful for your posts in support of us. This is a trying time for us all - and if I'm honest, doesn't even seem real yet. I mean, Earth, part of Alpha Sector? Norms treating us like we exist?

There will be downsides, as you mentioned. We Proparents put everything into caring for our own kids and our adopted kids. We don't get to see them full time, but that doesn't mean we don't love and care for them. To have our kids abandon us for their 'true families' is heartbreaking, I won't pretend it isn't. But it's nice to know we have a community out there who supports us. Sorry, this turned into a bit of a ramble!

nextstephome:

Don't apologize for rambling! I always love getting asks like this. Just knowing that I was able to help make at least one person feel better is more than enough for me.

I'm so so happy for you that your son has gotten back in contact with you! I'm sure it doesn't erase all of the hurt between you, but it's definitely a start, especially knowing that they're planning to come visit you when they can!

I know it's heartbreaking to see your prokids start drifting away from you and you can tell me to nuke off if what I'm about to say is inappropriate, but this is how i think of it:

our current proparent system is broken, and it has been for a very long time. ten prokids for each proparent is just too many to be able to provide the kind of support that these children need.

i think it was wallamcranesarchnemesis who said it best in one of their posts a while back: "We have proparents, but they're only around for 2 hours a week, which means that while they're able to be there for the big things, the ones that we learn the most from actually tend to be the older children in our Homes/Next Steps...We are quite literally a society of children raising other children."

Please don't take this as me criticizing proparents or saying you're not doing enough! You're all massively overworked, and are being asked to do more than is humanly possible.

And as awful as it sounds to say this, those children who are pulling away from you are (hopefully) getting the kind of one-on-one support that a proparent can't provide them, and their absence means that you now have the time and resources to provide more support to your other kids who need you more now than ever. It means you can spend more time with your own families as well!

I know it doesn't make the hurt go away completely, but hopefully this perspective makes it a little easier to deal with?

Much love from me, and keep being amazing!

[gifsbysimplysonia]

I'm tired of crying but it's not gonna stop anytime soon. I feel like a judgment on my worth has been made and stuff like this sticks in my craw. Back in the early 2000s, someone who kicked me off their message board told me the reason was I "have an ego the size of the Titanic." That shit is going on my coffee can and this being my first layoff, I just feel like someone looked at what I did for almost 8 years and went, "yeah, we don't need any of that." And considering I JUST realized via therapy a few weeks ago that I've been managing "my team" (cuz I hate that 2 people is the literal smallest team that can exist) just without the resources, without management to assist us in day to day duties, without the title and without the pay. I'd been unhappy for years but the comfort and security outweighed that for me, not to mention I recruited my best friend a few years ago to work with me cuz that place was not giving me any help at all. Now I'm also feeling guilty cuz she's there, in the circus, by herself. But I told her she doesn't have to be me or do what I did cuz look where doing "all the extra things" she didn't know I was doing got me. I was weighed, measured and found wanting. All my work apps nuked off my phone literally 2 minutes after I was read a script and let go. No chance to say goodbye to anyone. And no one reaching out to me anyways. Almost 8 years of struggle, being told my authentic self wasn't good enough, working on being versions of myself that could be more palatable to those people, making decent money, getting to support my family, having insurance that made it possible for me to start therapy in 2020 and get my specialty shots to keep my stress induced hives and urticaria at bay...and it all went POOF so fast. The next day I had a box delivered to my doorstep to send back my laptop. Wild wild wild how I couldn't get anything I needed while an employee cuz of corporate bee ess but as soon as I was gone, damn did they move quick. I just...hope I stop crying soon. I'm well aware that I need to go through to grow through it but based on how I existed there for so many years, I'm upset with myself for caring this much and not being able to be aloof. This stings a lot. I did a wild amount of work by myself for so long, and then as half of a 2 person team too, and we never had help but I kept that shit running. I made sure I was as low maintenance as possible and not til I started therapy did I realize that was the wrong badge to wear and brag about. Now I know not to put my needs aside and be upfront and firm about my needs. I won't ever go above and beyond for an employer again (I say knowing full well I probably will cuz I was raised watching 2 parents do just that) if I can help it. I feel dumb. I feel lost. I'm super worried. I feel worthless. I know I'll get to the other side eventually but it's still fresh so the feelings haven't caught up yet. I had 96 sick hours that disappeared into the ether. Please take your sick time and your days off cuz, I'm very sorry to say, they think we are all replaceable. I'm wishing white light and blessings on anyone who made it through this stream of consciousness 🙏🏼🕯🤞🏼 and thank you for taking the time if you did.

[mememanufactorum]

Shit I’ve said this month (February 2022 edition)

* FEEL FREE TO SHARE AS YOU PLEASE, NO CREDIT NEEDED. CHANGE PRONOUNS OR ANYTHING ELSE AS DESIRED.

I dunno, I kinda feel like she���ll be scared shitless more than anything.

She’s gonna screech from fear, and then it’ll be excitement once her mind processes it.

I’ll coom in a bit.

How the fuck is it springtime storming while it’s THIS cold out?

When you connect two things to each other, that’s docking. When a ship goes into the hangar, that’s sounding.

NAH FAM I’M ABOUT TO GET EVEN WEIRDER.

Because like Alice, she couldn’t resist going down the rabbit hole.

Monkey business is some serious fucking business.

You can visually pinpoint the moment my brain has started to melt from trying to keep up this bit.

Listen, if it isn’t already in your own pants, there’s only a few other places it could be.

Are you saying you wanted her to ask you to shit on command?

You soiled your own bed, now you have to pass out in it.

She’s SKEEPY.

As soon as she learns that her consequences have actions.

And you intentionally made her your own perfect waifu.

SHE EATS NOTHING BUT SWEETS WHICH I GUESS MAKES SENSE. ALL THAT FAT HAD TO GO SOMEWHERE.

[name] is drunk and she is wilding.

I truly, honestly believe your sense of taste is just built different.

You may have ruined your tongue with stuff like your version of “coffee”.

[name]’s dick grew three sizes that day. Six sizes.

My ass is numb now.

That’s not very gamer.

You fucking expect me to take my hands off the keyboard/controller to shovel fucking peanut butter into my mouth?

I’m sorry I’m still allergic to nut.

I DON’T LISTEN TO MUSIC.

IF I SAID YES YOU’D STILL BE GIVING ME SHIT.

MUTUAL SUFFERING CREATES STRONGER BONDS.

SUFFER AS I MUST.

Just stop being cold lmao.

WELL WELL, IF IT ISN’T THE CONSEQUENCES OF YOUR ACTIONS.

IT’S ALMOST LIKE YOU BROUGHT THIS ON YOURSELF JUST NOW OR SOMETHING.

I just thought of another way to hurt you.

WHY SHOULD YOU HAVE THIS AT MY EXPENSE?

I HAVE AN INEXPLICABLE COMPULSION TO DOUBLE AND TRIPLE GUESS MYSELF.

Just making sure it isn’t your concussion.

You go up and down stairs all the time. How have you never learned to take them carefully?

I went up and down stairs all the time.

The frog has always been with you.

I had to bullshit so much that I forgot how to do a thing right.

I might go nuke my waffles.

All I do for the most part is just sit here and exist.

Poomp the brakes for one minute.

Thank you for reminding me that I have to destroy you.

I still haven’t had my coffee yet and I wish to murder.

I am allowed to go to bed at an earlier time.

YOU DON’T HAVE AN EXCLUSIVITY DEAL ON SALT.

My salt is eternal.

I am the original salt factory.

I ain’t about that Tonberry life but you're not the only one who gets to accumulate grudges.

Just remember, whenever you are scared of ghose, remember ghost puncher.

[horrible-monstrosity]

I find myself increasingly concerned with the direction Legends Arceus is taking the relation between humans and Pokemens. No, I'm not talking about the bit with Pokemans attacking the player directly when you don't have your own Pokeymans ready, that was going to happen eventually, but just... the Sinnoh myths had stories about humans and Pokemon being so close they were considered the same sort of being, there's marriages, what have you, coming from thousands of years back. But this game apparently taking place only some hundreds of years ago... and it's "before Pokemons and humans lived together uwu"? The fuck? I feel like the games have been significantly moving away from humans and Pokemon being equals of a sort who both benefit from being together to Pokemons being some superior beings who humans benefit from but not vice versa and Pokemans are the superior creatures who humans should grovel in gratitude to and put up with all the shit from while never daring to burden them in any way. See gen 7, where living in haaaaarmony means having their lives and culture corralled by some asshole fairies because people can't be arsed to fight the ultra beasts, except the trainers who're forced to become kahunas fight the UBs themselves anyway (where they're forced to become fanatical enough about fighting to become strong enough to do so, but they're not even expected to be strong to fight UBs it's to lead their community... don't try understanding it just eat fairy shit and get excited for more fairy shit I guess). Why not just have a culture of the trainers who want to be strongest, or who have the greatest talent, being lauded as UB-fighters and becoming community leaders as well? Naw man, doing everything as the fairies want is haaaaarmony. Humans can't be strong enough with their Pokemon teams to fight the UBs, but have to be strong for other reasons ordained by The System, but then the ordained stronk humans have to fight the UBs anyway. But the fairies help, I guess. I fucking hate fairies man. Fucking elves of the Pokemon world. Smug sparkling fucks, fuck em I keep forgetting about the ride Pokemon but it still feels like the humans are supposed to bow and scrape to earn the gift of basic movement services so I don't think it really counts Gen 8 I don't know as well but it seems to go like this: Doggos are responsible for all good, their trainers or whatever their human companions are might as well not even exist. The postgame story is about those eeeeevil humans thinking they have some relevance to the doggos or something, eeevil I must say, so they have to do something evil to prove that.... um, something. Just some dumb shit that feels like a strawman argument against humans having any place in this world. Grovel to doggos.

Gen 6 was around the point where the weird cynicism started to creep into the franchise, mostly ORAS's weird abandoned ship segment, but it's pretty clear of this... aside from one random ace trainer or something late in XY who asks you, humans benefit from Pokemons, but how Pokemons benefit from huamn??? huh??? You're expecting an answer from him but he's just like, I bet you can't think of anything huh, hmmm??? Grovel, human.

You compare this to gen 5, and I'm not even talking about the Plasma plot (which was clearly bait on Plasma's part to get the public's sympathy anyway), but things like using Excadrill to dig out the mines. The 'drills were getting to do what they loved- dig- and being treated well by the humans in exchange for digging this spot in that way as directed. An equitable relationship that produced resources. This sort of thing existed as a counterpoint to N and Plasma's stated beliefs that humans were nothing but horrible for Pokemon and that they could never live together... Ironically what the later games are leaning towards, except that there is a way, and that's for humans to go fuck themselves. And again, Sinnoh's old myths, as well as any other myths that involve people and Pokemon together going back thousands of years.

I'd really thought the idea of this series was that Pokemon and humans were practically made for each other, that they were together from the very beginning. Raising Pokemon allows them to have a crafted moveset including TM and tutor moves, gain EVs, use held items aside from the few random ones they find in the wild... it's baked into the game itself completely incidentally. But no, I guess it's a Pokeyman's world and humans are just intruding on it somehow. What the fuck. Sigh.

I'm hoping that "Pokemans are so dangerouse man" line is just about the red-eyed frenzied Pokemon and that we aren't going into all Pokemons attacking humans and humans living forever at their mercy and deserving to scrape and grovel just to survive their onslaught.

By the way, my autistic retard fanfiction: First off, when the wall breaks and the doggo statues are found that make everyone realise who the "real" heroes are (something we can THANK Bede for by the way, because if he hadn't destroyed a priceless cultural artifact Eternatus would have gone off unopposed... but no one ever acknowledges this, as Bede is shat on and disowned by Rose for following what Rose taught him and then forced to trune out by trunny granny. figures she's a fairy trainer, I fucking hate fairies)- the idea that the doggos alone are the "real" heroes is actually a misconception brought on by people/society's tendency to elevate Pokemon, similar to why people bought PLasma's bullshit back in Unova. So when Eternatus is starting its nukes, people are just waiting for the doggos to get going and beat it... but when Hop sees the doggo statues, his budding professor brain immediately sees the truth- both the doggos and their human trainers are needed to unlock the true power of the sword and shield items. This even makes some sense with the game mechanics, as Pokemon typically can't use items more complicated than a berry... so with Leon and co busy fighting the dynamax mons and knowing no one would listen to him, Hop turns to the only person he can ask- you, who saw the doggos in the foggos at the beginning with him, to go retrieve the items so the doggos can actually do their thing. Also, Rose was radicalised and groomed by some crazy apocalypse cult, an ironic inversion of his supposed grooming of Bede (here he actually has a heartwarming father-son relationship of sorts with him). They pushed him to push the darkest day plan up like he did, convincing him there's a desperate energy situation but secretly just wanting the maximum apocalypse-ness out of a single action (while possibly believing themselves that there's an energy crisis but that the real solution is to destroy shit so less people and things use energy). So there's that. In the end he's taken to jail, but it's not some absurdly mundane ending where he just gets arrested for apocalypse crimes, rather he's being questioned for what he can tell them about the cult, on understanding that he was coerced into this, and that he can pay for his crimes by giving information on the cult itself. Bede relates this to you with some concern for his sort-of dad. The Swordward and Shieldbert plot (I forget if that's their actual names but whatever) has the two bros asking you to aid in investigating the apoc cult while preparing to accept their destiny as the doggos' masters. You see, they've been raised for this, learning all about Pokemon companionship but having no actual close contact with Pokemon at all (to prevent any Pokemon from forming a bond with them closer than what they'd have with the doggo- your first Pokemon is special, after all). Book smart but street dumb, in other words. You know, as opposed to some inexplicable dumb shit because Mother 3 ruined an entire generation of game writers. They call on the doggos to battle the baddies and are disappointed they go to you and Hop instead of them, but ultimately accept it. Afterwards, Hop contacts Sonia with a request... soon he has the two brothers over to choose their very first Pokemon. Swordbro was going on about Swordog's nobility and Shieldbro about wanting to touch Shieldog's fluffy mane, so Hop has out a Yamper and a Wooloo, presented as a choice, but he knows exactly which one they'll each choose. This is another manifestation of his potential as a professor- not only doing the professor thing of handing out first Pokemon, but considering what Pokemon they'd work well with. Isn't that nice? Also there's something in there about Bede's long lost identical twin who's also being used as a pawn by the apoco-cult but I'll explain that later

My idea for the origin of the Pokemon world as we know it- Arceus didn't create Pokemon, or the world itself, but it is responsible for the way the world is now. Once upon a time, when humans and Pokemon were one kind of being, there was too much strife and disagreement among the groups and nobody was learning their lesson, so Arceus got fed up and split the world into two types of beings that would have to get along in order to thrive. It instated the "rules" of Pokemon battles, that attacks have set damage ranges and types have well-defined interactions, that attacks in battles only deplete some abstract hit points level instead of causing the damage they "should" for what they are (this doesn't apply to wild-on-wild predation necessarily, so it's a privilege enjoyed by Pokemon being aided or advised by a human). Outsider beings- aliens, maybe ultra beasts, etc- are "converted" into Pokemon when they enter "Earth"'s airspace, which is why even beings from the furthest depths of space follow the rules and biology of earthbound species. These "rules" require Arceus' powers but don't rely on its constant action, so it can be captured and hang out with a trainer for a while, play by its own rules to see how things are going, without disrupting the system. I'd never expected anything even vaguely like this to turn canon of course, because it's so specific and particular to the sort of ideas I tend to have, but... not like this man

[love-of-fandoms]

The Non-Companion (The Master + OC) Chapter 9

Chapter 9 of The Non-Companion (Master List)

Pairing: The Master + OC

Word Count: 2177 words

Warning: Y’all might get whiplash from this chapter

“You okay?” Yaz asked a couple of days later after they had picked Jo up. She had decided to go on more adventures with them. “You’re really quiet,” Ryan nodded.

“Yeah, you have been for days now,” he said, and Jo looked at the Doctor, at the way her shoulders sagged despite the smile she put on for the fam.

“Five planets, barely said a word,” Graham agreed, but the Doctor waved them off.

“I’m fine,” the lie was painfully obvious in her voice.

“Why don’t you ever share anything with us?” Graham finally accused, and the Doctor’s eyes widened.

“I share stuff!” Jo kept silent, but she knew she’d have to have a talk with the Doctor later.

“Not about yourself though,” Graham argued, and Ryan nodded.

“You know everything about us,” he said.

“And we know nothing about you,” Yaz finished, and Jo held in her urge to say we finish each other’s -sandwiches!

“Fine,” the Doctor sighed, and Jo didn’t like how distant she was. Her eyes were completely blank, as opposed to how they were usually filled with ancient wonder. “What do you want to know?”

“Who are you, Doc?” Graham asked. “Really,” he added, and the Doctor took in a deep breath, her voice detached when she finally opened her mouth to answer his question.

“I was born on a planet called Gallifrey. In the constellation of Kasterborous. I'm a Time Lord. I can regenerate my body. I stole this TARDIS and ran away. I've been travelling ever since,” she rattled off with almost clinical detachment, and Jo flinched. “The Master was one of my oldest friends,” sadness flashed in her eyes for a moment. “We went very different ways…” she trailed off, looking down for a moment to collect herself before looking back up at the fam. “Questions?”

“Loads,” Graham scoffed, and Yaz grinned.

“Can we visit it? Your home?” she asked, and Jo flinched once more, remembering what she had heard the Master say.

“I'm not sure how to describe what I found. Pulverised? Burned? Nuked? All of the aboveI'm not sure how to describe what I found. Pulverised? Burned? Nuked? All of the above,” he had said. “Someone destroyed it. Our home. Razed to the ground. Everyone killed. Everything burned,”

The Doctor hadn’t wanted to believe the Master, but Jo didn’t think he would lie about that. Or at least, it didn’t feel like that was a lie.

“Another time,” the Doctor sighed, and Jo almost wanted to cry for her old friend.

After the Doctor had dropped the fam home, Jo decided it was time for their talk.

“Doctor?” she asked, her voice shaky despite her best efforts to remain calm. The Doctor looked up at her, and this time her cold mask was gone, and Jo could see how truly devastated she was. “What happened to Gallifrey?” she asked, and the Doctor took in a shuddering breath.

“He destroyed it,” she muttered, sitting down on the steps to the console, and Jo lowered herself down to sit next to her.

“The Master?” the Doctor nodded numbly, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small circular device. It had Gallifreyan markings on it, but Jo couldn’t quite figure them out. Her language lessons were going very slowly there. In the center, there was a blinking light, and Jo’s thumb hovered over it for a moment. She looked to the Doctor, who nodded. Jo pressed the button and a hologram appeared in front of them. It was the Master, appearing much more tattered than he had before. He looked distraught, and his voice was filled with sadness when he spoke.

“Geo-activated. If you're seeing this, you've been to Gallifrey,” he spoke, and paused to take in a deep breath. “When I said someone did that, obviously I meant I did. I had to make them pay, Doctor. For what I discovered,” he took in a shuddering breath, and Jo was surprised to see his shoulders shaking, as if he was crying. Or perhaps holding in tears that had yet to fall. “They lied to us. The founding fathers of Gallifrey. Everything we were told was a lie. We are not who we think. You or I. The whole existence of our species. Built on the lie of the timeless child,” the Doctor flinched, and the hologram blinked off. Jo’s eyes were wide as she tried to take in this information.

“The timeless child,” she repeated, looking at the Doctor. “What is that?” the Doctor’s shoulders shrugged.

“I don’t know,” her voice sounded so broken, and Jo realized that in this moment, she didn’t need to figure out the riddle the Master had given them. She needed to heal. Gently, Jo wrapped her arm around her friend’s shoulders, and pulled her into her. “Jo-” the Doctor’s voice began to break, and Jo shifted so that her head was laying on her chest, and she wrapped both arms around the Doctor’s form. One hand went to stroke through her hair, and Jo shushed her softly.

“Shh, it’s alright,” she murmured, and the Doctor dissolved into sobs, reliving the pain of her planet being destroyed for the second time. “I’ve got you,” Jo felt her skin getting wet with the Doctor’s tears, and she just continued to stroke a hand through her hair, the other hand rubbing reassuring circles on her back. “We’ll get through this,”

The Doctor dropped Jo home the next day, having not wanted to be alone the night before, which Jo understood. Jo went to the small kitchenette in her apartment to make some tea, and let out a sigh as the wheezing of the TARDIS announced the Doctor’s departure.

“Hello, luv,” not even half a second passed before Jo had whipped around and her fist collided with the Master’s face. He stumbled back with an ‘oof’. “I deserved that,” he admitted, and Jo pulled a knife out of a compartment in her jacket. The Master raised his eyebrows. “How many knives do you have?” he muttered, and Jo shrugged a shoulder.

“Enough to be a threat,” she shot back, and he smirked, reaching into his coat pocket slowly. Jo tensed, preparing to dash forward if he pulled out his TCE, but instead he pulled out a familiar knife. “Is that… mine?” she asked, tilting her head in confusion, and the Master nodded, flipping the knife so he was holding the blade and the handle was facing her.

“Figured it’d be polite to return it,” he muttered, and Jo cautiously took it out of his hands, shoving it in its rightful place in her boot.

“I threw it into your hand,” she said with raised eyebrows, and the Master shrugged.

“I don’t blame you,” he countered. “It was impressive, actually,” he smirked. “How much pain were you in, when you threw it?” he asked, a mix of fascination and genuine curiosity on his face, and Jo shrugged.

“You want a scientific measurement?” she deadpanned, and he chuckled.

“I knew I liked you for a reason!” he said with a smirk, and Jo rolled her eyes.

“You don’t like anyone,” the Master tilted his head, humming.

“You’re right,” he admitted, still grinning at her. He pointed at a stool that was at her kitchen counter. “May I?” Jo nodded, and he sank heavily onto the stool, leaning his forearms on the counter.

“Tea?” she asked, and the Master smirked.

“Yeah, thanks,” he nodded, and Jo turned her stove on before turning to one of her cabinets and rooting through it for the blend she wanted. She kept a cautious eye on the Master, though.

“So why are you here?” she asked, and the Master shrugged.

“Wanted to return that lovely knife,” he said, eyes scanning her up and down as if searching for more hiding places where she kept her knives. He wouldn’t find them, Jo had done a good job of concealing her weapons. “Past that, no clue,” he shrugged, and Jo raised her eyebrows at him.

“So you’re just… here,” she said, and he nodded. “With no ulterior motive,” he nodded once more, and Jo scoffed. “Forgive me if I don’t entirely believe that,” she said, pulling out her steeper and scooping some tea leaves into it. The Master chuckled.

“I don’t blame you,” he admitted. “Though, if I’m being honest, the anomaly that is Jo Hartford is… fascinating,” he bit his lip as he observed her, and Jo rolled his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure the judoon still have records of everything they got when they ‘tested’ me,” Jo held up finger quotes around the word tested and the Master hummed in confusion. Jo looked up at him, waiting for him to connect the dots, but he just continued to stare at her, his face pinched in an adorably confused expression. “They held me against my will for two months trying to figure out what the fuck I was,” she said bluntly, and the Master’s eyes widened.

“That’s awful,” he muttered, and Jo couldn’t tell if his sympathetic tone was genuine or manufactured. “Had to escape from them a couple times, myself, never fun,” he grimaced, and Jo nodded. The kettle screeched, and Jo took it off the stove and poured it into the steeper. There were a couple moments of silence, though it wasn’t entirely awkward, in which they waited for the tea to steep.

When it had, Jo handed the Master a cup of tea, before pouring one for herself.

“So…” she started, and the Master grunted in question, glancing up at her from his teacup. “What happens now?” he grinned.

“No idea,” he said, and Jo’s brows furrowed.

“You don’t have a plan?” she asked, incredulous, and the Master shrugged.

“Of course I have a plan,” he scoffed. “I thought you meant right now,” she had, but he didn’t need to know that. “I heard humans like movies,” he shrugged, and Jo’s jaw dropped, gaping at him.

“Are you… asking me on a date?” she muttered, confused beyond belief, and the Master scoffed, shaking his head. 

“Nothing as mundane as that,” he defended, before tilting his head. “But… yes,” Jo let out a tiny gasp, her confusion not ebbing at all as she stared at the Master.

“Um… what?” she asked dumbly, and the Master rolled his eyes.

“I thought this was what happened when you were interested in someone,” he said, and Jo nodded.

“It is, when you’re interested romantically,” she said. “Not as a science experiment,” the Master just stared blankly at her, and Jo sighed, rolling her eyes. “Jesus christ,” she muttered, before stepping closer to him. “Alright, what’ve you got?” the Master’s eyes widened minutely, and he stood, staring down at her in confusion.

“What?” it was his turn to look stupid, mouth gaping open like a fish.

“For movies, dumbass,” Jo sighed, and the Master grinned, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards a ‘closet’ door.

“Come see!” he said excitedly, dragging her through the door and into his TARDIS, which was surprisingly still decorated like O’s cabin. He dragged her further in, leading her to a screening room and gesturing to the remote. “Anything you’d like,” he said, and Jo pondered for a minute, before smirking at him. She collapsed on the immensely comfy sofa and picked up the remote, beginning to type in the name of her movie.

“Alright, come sit down,” she said, and the Master looked lost for a moment before he sat down next to her, stiff as a board. “Oh my god, relax, dude,” she muttered, continuing to type, and the Master leaned back. Jo glanced over at him, and giggled at how ridiculous he looked. He was insanely tense, and in a purple plaid suit with a velvet overcoat. She rolled her eyes, setting down the remote. “You’re impossible," she muttered, standing and starting to leave the room. The Master shot up and trailed after her, though surprisingly he did nothing to stop her.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, and Jo giggled.

“I’m putting on some comfy clothes,” she explained, stopping at the TARDIS door. “I’d suggest you do the same. Be right back!” she called, exiting the TARDIS. The Master stared at the TARDIS door for a moment, as if he was unsure if all that had really just happened. After a moment of standing there like an idiot, he raced to the TARDIS’ wardrobe and changed into some plaid sweats and a t shirt, before running back up to the console room. True to her word, a couple minutes later Jo came back in wearing a hoodie and some leggings. She was also carrying a heap of soft blankets in her arms.

“You’re gonna have to lead me,” she muttered from behind the mountain of blankets, and the Master chuckled, going behind her and grasping her shoulders with surprising gentleness. He was able to see over the mountain of blankets, so he led her to the screening room and divested her of them, dumping them on the sofa.

“Now what?” he asked, and Jo shrugged.

“Have you ever made a pillow fort?” she asked.

[theladyfromplanetx]

Dear Lawrence Kasdan So, You Say You Love Han Solo

Dear Lawrence,

I hear there’s a bit of a kerfuffle going on about the Han Solo movie you’re EPing and have co-written with your son. I wish I could tell you I was sorry to hear that, but in all honesty I’ve been hoping for the last few years that someone would kill this project with fire and then nuke it from space for good measure. Sure, most of the reason that large chunks of the nerd world have responded to the very idea of this film is that a lots of people, including me, think it’s a fool’s errand for any actor other than Harrison Ford to strap on Han Solo’s DL-44 blaster. But ever since the release of The Force Awakens, I’ve had a second reason for saying:

to this venture.

I kind of hate to say it, Lawrence, but it’s not me: It’s you.

You see, the The Force Awakens did something to me that even The Star Wars Holiday Special, painfully delivered prequel lines about sand, and the very existence of Jar Jar Binks couldn’t do: The Force Awakens made me regret that Star Wars is still a thing.

It made me regret that children were being introduced to something that used to be innocent and good-hearted by a film that shows that the end game of youthful heroism is failure and running away (and that Han should have stuck to his initial demand of $10,000 all in advance in A New Hope).

It made me angry that nobody among the-powers-that-be looked at it, took a deep breath and said “wait a minute. In shadow-rebooting A New Hope, do we really need to make two of the biggest characters in film history pathetic runaway losers and the other a heartless automaton who would kill her son on (not a)Death Star unless hapless sucker Han showed up to do her bidding and die trying to bring him home…even though that request made not a lick of sense given that the Force-sensitive parent who could actually have had an influence was the bidding mother would have just blown Kylo clear out of the sky had Han not shown up to (1) solve her problem by getting yet another (not a)Death Star shield down and (2) die?“

It made me rue how far we’ve fallen as a critical thinkers when we can be hoodwinked so easily that we spend a couple of billion at the movie theatre on a film that’s dressed up to look and feel like Star Wars, but is utterly life- and hope-denying at its core and presents a kind of nihilism that we’d probably reject as an audience if the words STAR WARS weren’t plastered on it.

Oh, also, the story doesn’t really make any sense.

As you can see, eighteen months later, I can still get a bit aggrieved by all this. However, to quote one of the most egregiously jaw-dropping placeholder lines in The Force Awakens, that is “a story for another day.” (Sorry, Lawrence and JJ, but in a past life, which I call the late 1990s, I went to film school and put in my time in the screenwriting trenches as well. You know and I know that line right there would have gotten you laughed out of an on-line screenwriting class at an unaccredited diploma mill.)

The story for today is that I’m not really keen on the idea of you touching the character of Han Solo again, both because of TFA and because of whatever happened to upend the Solo standalone’s directors. The weight of the evidence coming from the usual suspects (aka unnamed sources) is that the disagreements over the tone of the film and the character of Solo became so vast that somebody had to go. Lord/Miller, as I’ve read in the millions of lines of digital type about this and to which I’m now adding, saw the film and the character as funny, while you insisted that Solo was not funny, but was selfish and sarcastic. Other descriptors of Solo that have been thrown around and attributed to you re: Solo are “narcissistic,” “uncaring,” “out for himself,” and “mean.”

Oh, and you’ve also been quoted as saying you “love Han Solo.”

And therein lies the problem.

Now no one wants a Han Solo movie…hm. I could just stop there for a lot of the fandom, but I’ll proceed.

No one wants a Han Solo movie in which Solo keeps trying to get Chewie to pull his finger, but I’d like to propose, Larry, that perhaps Lord/Miller weren’t the only problem here, because it seems that you actually don’t love the same character that the audience loved in the Original Trilogy. You love the darker version of the character that was tossed around in story conferences and in early drafts and you love the darker story that Lucas toyed with, but decided against using (thank the Makers) in Return of the Jedi. You love the Han Solo that Lucas and Leigh Brackett introduced as the “before” Han at the beginning of A New Hope, but not the “after” he became by the end of that film and the “after-after” he became by the end of ROTJ. Now that Lucas and his lighter view of the Star Wars universe are no longer on the scene, it feels like you’re trying to retcon Han Solo to win a battle you fought and lost long ago and in the process create a smuggler whose heart isn’t actually made of gold anymore.

I know that’s not a very nice thing for me to say, but I can’t help but say it, given how you and JJ had your way with the character in TFA, because he certainly wasn’t the character we left at the end of ROTJ. Nor, I should note, is he the character that we met in Bloodline, the Disney/Lucasfilm novel released after TFA and set five years before it, in which Han and Leia are still happily married and Han is pretty much an identifiable older version of ROTJ Han. TFA Han was an awkward mash-up of a script portraying an aged version of the character we met at the beginning of A New Hope and an actor playing hard against the script to show us a broken man wandering the galaxy and trying to make it work.

That impetus — to remake a beloved hero in a less heroic image — is kind of ugly in any context, despite all the folks who will insist “BUT IT’S REAL” as if real had anything to do with a franchise that for forty years has appealed to the little, innocent part of us that still wants to believe in Santa. It’s particularly a problem when applied to the character of Solo and the role that character plays for Star Wars.

Solo’s not the kid who, twenty minutes into the Original Trilogy, decides he wants to be a Jedi and spends the next five hours and forty minutes of film becoming just that. He’s not the character with royal roots who has been fighting for the good guys since before the first film started and continues to do so until the trilogies end.

He’s the character who has to find his better angels, who has to change in order to become the hero/man/boyfriend/partner/friend he decides he wants to be. He’s a guy who has to overcome his natural instincts for self-preservation. He needs to learn to say “I’m sorry.” He’s snarky, FUNNY, and sometimes grudgingly follows the conscience he’d rather not have in order to do the right thing. He’s not always really convinced about the whole “religion” thing, he’s had some rough times, he’s done some rotten things, and he likes money.

It’s no big mystery why Solo is a fan favorite. It’s Harrison Ford, yes, but its also because Solo is as much like all of us as someone can be in a universe with hyperdrives, lightsabers, and Wookiees. He gives the Star Wars universe some identifiable grounding — and HUMOR. (If you don’t believe me, see: prequels.)

And by the end of Return of the Jedi, Solo became the person we’d all like to believe we are or can be— the one whose better angels have won out and given him a real shot at a happily ever after.

Oh, right, that didn’t happen. Well, it did for 30 plus years, and then it didn’t. Thanks, Larry. Always good to remind myself of Han Solo’s utterly pointless death scene in TFA, a death that many of us steeled ourselves against because we were pretty sure it was coming. It was gutting, though, not because it happened, but because it came at the top of act three of a film that had already stripped the character of his OT arc and also because the death was utterly devoid of heroic meaning or salvific result, given that all it did in the context of the film was turn Darth Emo into Darth Lyle Menendez and make Leia sit down and look somewhat upset.

But it can’t just be a pointlessly sad death of a character who, for all the talking up JJ did about cool rogue Han Solo, wasn’t played that way and didn’t come off that way, right? We all know that when you take down an iconic character like that, you do it with the endgame all planned out. You know exactly how that death — of a parent who rouses himself from his brokenness and ennui to risk his life for son he believes is likely already beyond his reach because the woman he loves has asked him to — will reverberate across the sequel trilogy and, ultimately, we’ll see that Solo’s final act WAS heroic. In fact, it was Kenobi-like. Aslan-like. Christ-like. You gave Solo the ultimate 180-degree arc, didn’t you? He died to save his kid, he died so everybody else could live, and you know it, right, Larry? You’ve got this whole thing mapped out, right, bud? I mean, c’mon, you love Han Solo, so you wouldn’t strip the character of his growth, throw him down an endless shaft (holy cow, dude, you literally shafted him!), and walk away to write another movie about him NOT being a hero, would you?

Oh.

Maybe you did.

So…you’re telling me that it’s possible Han’s final act was utterly futile, solely a device to tell us Darth Emo is really, really evil ? I think we already knew that, given the platypus mask, Vader lust, and the blowing up of a solar system. But, hey, thanks for getting people in our already messed-up world to argue that patricide can be justified; what’s been missing from our pop culture crap stew for the last decade is Star Wars fans arguing that the vastly immoral may be moral because they identify with the patricidal emo character whom they want to end up with the Mary Sue whose mind he attacked in the TFA version of a rape scene. I’ll never know how you avoided feminist outrage there, but count your lucky stars that feminists were so happy to have a female (not)Luke Skywalker in Star Wars that they overlooked that.

So now you move onto the Han Solo film, wherein, after meeting loser, regressed, lost, runaway and dead Han in TFA, we’re going to meet selfish, sarcastic, mean, narcissistic, and out for himself but not funny Han.

Can’t wait. By which I mean I could have happily waited forever, because I wasn’t waiting. I WASN’T WAITING, LARRY.

I get it, though. I’ve seen most of your work. You’re a serious filmmaker — you went from Larry to Lawrence. The Big Chill, Grand Canyon, Accidental Tourist, Mumford. I’ve seen ’em all. God help me, I even saw Dreamcatcher…but that’s a story for another day. What I know from those films is that when you’re calling the shots, nothing is black and white. Everything is a shade of gray.

What I also know is that those films are not made for the part of us that still wants to believe in Santa and that gray is not a good color for Star Wars. Star Wars became the cultural touchstone it is precisely because it jumped into a very gray period in our history, with gas lines and Soviets and malaise, with a black-and-white, good versus evil morality that made everyone just a little bit happier when they left the theatre. You didn’t question if the heroes were heroes or the villains were villains. In its own goofball way, Star Wars — with its complete faith in the power of hope — was countercultural.

Now? The new Star Wars took one look around at our current culture and instead of being countercultural, happily jumped right into the morass and is swimming around in the sludge of relativism. Heroes become failures and run away. Evil characters are given some sort of justification for being evil. Rebels fighting against the Empire are portrayed as assassins instead of people fighting a monstrous evil. The Resistance is some kind of non-governmental paramilitary group. Luke Skywalker thinks the Jedi must end. Oh, and the last two films you’ve written focus on a less noble version of the character you claim to love.

Star Wars is starting to look like a reflection of the worst of us as adults and as a society, instead of a goofy, lovable, out-of-this-galaxy inspiration to kids (and the kid in everyone) to be the best version of themselves.

Hey, I’m sure everyone at Lucasfilm is just fine with this, because these films, despite their shaky worldview, are also printing money, but, Larry, consider that maybe Wonder Woman has proven that there’s still a huge audience for naivete, goodness, and hope. Since you now have Ron Howard, who’s specialized in empathetic leads even in complex films over the years, can you maybe jettison the gray and try to create just one more time not the Han Solo that you love, but the Han Solo that is a combination of you, George Lucas, Irvin Kershner, Harrison Ford, and Leigh Brackett?

That’s the Han — the funny, snarky, constantly-irked one who talked a good game about being out for himself but somehow never was when the chips were down — that the audience has loved for forty years, because, in the end, CS Lewis was as right about this as he was about most things:

Oh, and if you could de-age Harrison Ford so he could play the role, that’d be great too…kthxbai.

Best,

Annie

Written in 2017 by Anne Michaela.

[starlightsentinel]

Double or Nothing, Chapter One

One night I dreamt of a faerie who challenged me to a game of chance and stole away my sleep. The next night I spent in a restless haze, unable to sleep a wink. The next night was the same, then the next, then the next. By the fifth night it was clear that the dream had been real, that I really had played that foolish game and wagered away my ability to sleep. Or at least it had been a metaphor, a portent of things to come, a warning from somewhere deep in my subconscious. By this point I was tired beyond belief, and even the simplest tasks required great effort, but the world wouldn't stop just for me: I still had to go to work and buy groceries and pay rent. Soon enough I was fired from my job due to what my manager described as a "decline in performance". I had a little money saved up but it soon became clear I had to move into a cheaper apartment. So I did, a tiny place downtown with no kitchen and a leaky roof and nextdoor neighbours who partied every night. I went for walks around town, hoping they'd tire me out and cure my insomnia, but I every night was a sleepless one no matter how tired I was. One evening I walked to a local noodle bar and ate some dinner there alone (over the last few weeks I'd fallen out of touch with my friends, and not knowing how to reply to texts like "everything ok?", "you seem distant lately", and "hey what's up" I'd simply ignored them until they'd given up on trying). After dinner I headed back home but soon realised I could no longer remember where exactly home was, that I was walking down an endless parade of identical-looking streets with identical-looking houses, like something out of a cheap cartoon. So I took a left at the next street corner and found myself in some kind of commercial district I hadn't visited before. Everywhere was closed except a 24-hour laundromat and a building with a sign that said "Midnight Cinema" in fancy cursive lettering, like a "The End" title card in an old Hollywood film. With nothing better to do I shrugged and stepped inside the midnight cinema, surprised to find several people milling around in the main lobby, chatting excitedly with one another. I'd never been to a cinema this late before, but I could recall former friends and workmates mentioning attending midnight screenings of big blockbusters, and I assumed the theatregoers were here for some exciting new film. I paid for a ticket and asked the impossibly old man at the ticket stand what exactly I was about to see, for the ticket itself was a gold-coloured sheet of blank paper with no indication, and come to think of it I hadn't seen any movie posters or “now showing” signs out the front of the cinema. But the old man evaded my question, simply saying "Oh, a marvellous film, I think you'll enjoy yourself tremendously, very much indeed."

I was starting to grow annoyed and was about to repeat my query more pointedly when I felt someone tap on my shoulder. I spun around and saw a man with long messy blond hair, probably in his late twenties or early thirties.

"Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," he said, although it hadn't really been a conversation. "Tonight's feature just happens to be A Moment of Innocence (1996, dir. Mohsen Makhmalbaf). You ever seen it?"

"As a matter of fact I haven't," I replied in the slightly drawling monotone that comes with the territory of being sleep-deprived.

"Well you're in for a treat," the stranger beamed.

"Quite so!" enthused the old man. "It's one of the most popular films we show at the Midnight Cinema. Everyone seems to love it."

"You've chosen a good night to come to the Midnight Cinema, my friend," said the younger man. "You here with anyone?"

I shook my head, a little embarrassed.

"Well, you're among friends here. You're welcome to sit with me and my crew."

I thanked him, introducing myself in a tone that couldn't muster enthusiasm but roughly approximated gratitude.

"My name's Alec," pointing out a group of strangers who saw us and waved, "and this is my crew."

Just then a sharp sound chimed out, and I spun around again to see the old man at the ticket stand striking purposefully at a triangle.

"Time to file in," he announced. "The picture's starting soon. I do hope you all enjoy yourselves this evening."

As a matter of fact I did. It was a charming and seemingly lighthearted Iranian film which focused on the relationships between two middle-aged men and the two youngsters who had been cast to play them in an upcoming movie.

It was easy to follow and mercifully short, and I left the theatre feeling that the experience of watching it had been worthwhile, even though I had the feeling a lot of the film’s dramatic subtext had gone over my head.

Alec and his crew (five others to whom I still hadn't been properly introduced) were beaming and discussing memorable moments from the film as if they'd just seen it for the first time, even though Alec had implied earlier that he'd watched it before.

After we left the cinema they invited me somewhere called the Fox Hole. Not remembering my address or how to get back there I agreed to tag along. On the walk to the Fox Hole I learned the names of the rest of Alec's crew:

Yuki, Nico, Michel, Angelo, and Nuke.

Alec, Yuki, Nico, Michel, Angelo, Nuke, and I sauntered into an impossibly small and impossibly still open café/bar hybrid and sat ourselves down at what appeared to be the only table in the whole building. The place was lit by coloured lightbulbs that dangled from the cavernous ceiling. Alec ordered drinks and tapas from an exhausted-looking server. I tried smiling at her sympathetically, wondering how much she'd slept in the past few days, but I decided my smile probably came across as ridiculous at best and sinister at worst. My ability to control the muscles in my face had long since faded (smiling felt kind of like moulding shapes out of hardened clay with your bare hands), so I just sat and listened to Alec and his crew, who all wore the same kind of ridiculous oversized grey jacket, and who all seemed very interested in art and music and literature and film.

Nuke went on a long diatribe about the works of Jacques Derrida, with whom they seemed to have a very complicated relationship. I'd never read any Derrida so the conversation was totally beyond my grasp, not to mention I wasn't exactly running at full capacity to begin with.

Nevertheless they kept turning to me and asking what their new friend thought about this or that linguistic concept, and, absurdly, wanting to appear cultured in front of the crew, I acted as though I had in fact read Speech and Phenomena, and had similarly mixed opinions on that work. Nuke and the others seemed satisfied by my responses, no matter how insubstantial they came across.

The conversation shifted from book to book to book, and a couple of times throughout the night Alec put his arm around my shoulder and asked for my opinion on this or that novella I hadn't read yet, or if I was feeling okay, I seemed a little quiet.

"I'm fine," I muttered, cringing at the banal artifice of what I was about to say, "just tired."

"That's OK, friend. Need to be heading home soon?"

It took some effort to stop myself from bursting into tears.

I tried explaining that I didn't know where home was anymore, if it had ever even existed at all.

"Ah, don't worry about it," said Alec. "Some of my crew are between homes as well, or have been. My pad has plenty of room, so join my crew and stay as long as you want."

"Y-you sure?" I stammered, staring at a lightbulb dangling just beyond his face, illuminating its pores and crevices. "I barely even know you."

"Sure I'm sure," he said, and sure enough I was the newest member of his crew.

[zmediaoutlet]

in support of Black Lives Matter, @mystifiedgal donated $30, and requested Tony Stark/Stephen Strange pre-slash. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post. (no longer taking prompts)

It’s a real busy month. The superfriends break out of supermax, with the help of a blond beefboy who flings frisbees at the security cameras and doesn’t care who sees his face; the UN goes ballistic and demands Tony help; Tony gets extremely, extremely drunk like he hasn’t in years and sends Ross a manip video of Tucker Maxx getting rawed by a donkey dressed as a colonel instead of responding; the superfriends crash back into America, and Natasha--traitor--lets them back in to the Avengers compound upstate; Tony, still drunk, decides to let them stay instead of incinerating the damn thing from space; Wanda gets kidnapped by a wizard; Tony and Steve have to go save her. Tony and Steve. No, Tony’s not bitter.

“I’m struggling to come up with a reason why I shouldn’t have my house nuke your house from orbit,” Tony says. Steve gives him a bitchy look. Yeah, what else is new. He lifts his chin, looks at the wizard through his green glasses. Everything’s better in green. “Anything? Mister Wizard?”

Said wizard gives him an unimpressed look. Tony doesn’t know why. His facial hair is even more ridiculous than Tony’s, and Tony cultivates this shit. “Strange.”

“Yes, you are,” Tony says, and Steve sighs and cuts his hand through the air before Tony can continue.

“Doctor,” he says, polite. Tony rolls his eyes. Wanda, in stasis halfway up to the skylight in this weird-ass mansion, pulsates in angry red, trapped in amber. “You have to understand that things were--different. The Avengers have no desire to go to war with the--Sanctum.”

“The Sanctum has no desire to go to war with the Avengers,” the wizard says--and, jesus, what is his name? Blue eyes, good hair, cape that seems to float in magic wind. Fancy Bastard isn’t something that should go on a birth certificate. “However, you are harboring a magic user who could cause extreme damage to the innocent people of this plane if left unchecked.”

Steve frowns. “Now, look--” he says, and the wizard’s eyebrow cocks and he waves a hand, and in the circle of amber that appears midair (how?) there’s a perfect 4k, 3D view of the deaths of innocents in Lagos, of the devastation of Johannesburg after the Hulk was enraged there, of a man with red light crawling up his neck and the terror filling his eyes before his neck snaps.

Above, Wanda’s silent fury goes quiet as the red dims. Steve looks constipated, which Tony can admit inside his own head actually means he looks grim and upset and heroic. The wizard looks between the two of them. “This is a problem. It would be wisest to transfer her to an alternate plane, or at least to have her abilities removed.”

“They’re part of her,” Steve says, immediately. Tony looks up. Hard to see, from down here, but he can see that Wanda’s eyes are closed, inside her amber prison, and her face--he looks away. “You can’t remove them without killing her.”

“Well,” the wizard says, and doesn’t look even remotely regretful--who is this guy?--and Steve’s shoulders square up in that muscular way that presages a truly stupid fucking fight that’s about to ensue, and Tony opens his mouth without a single iota of a plan and says, “Wait a minute,” and the wizard and Steve and Wanda all look at him, and oh, for fuck’s sake. That means--

*

Doctor Stephen Strange. Brilliant surgeon. Incredible asshole. Drama queen, and the worst kind of all because he pretends not to be. No one has that beard without wanting to cause drama. Tony would know. Unfortunately--Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme, and Stephen Strange, super wizard, and Stephen Strange, taking over a wing of the compound, coming and going as he pleases in a whisk of amber light, and Stephen Strange, Tony’s lab companion for the foreseeable future.

He misses Bruce.

The compound isn’t comfy. The various wings are divided into factions. Steve and the superfriends, hiding out from the UN and all of the other dozens of countries that want to prosecute them, are on the east side where the sparring rooms are. Tony’s set up on the west side where the labs are, and he didn’t think to put a bedroom in the lab because he thought this place would be all kumbaya, superhero summer camp, and figured maybe they’d actually want to talk to each other when they were all here. More fool him. He sleeps on the couch in the lab most days, when he sleeps at all, and it means he’s got a great view every time there’s a swirling mind-bending circle of amber light and all of a sudden there’s a fucking wizard in his house, ready to work with Wanda on how not to accidentally kill thousands of people.

This morning, for example. Morning? Tony drags a hand over his face, smears drool and engine grease. “Good morning, Mr. Stark,” Strange says, and Tony mouths it back at him schoolyard style--what he assumes normal kids did in schoolyards--and Tony lets Friday speak the room into brightness, telling him the time and the weather and whether the world’s blown up, while he’s catnapped.

“How’s the scarlet terror?” Tony says, knuckling his eyes. Christ, this sucks. 69 degrees and he can’t even make a joke about it.

A pause. “Progressing,” Strange says. He’s still wearing that stupidass cosplay outfit. Cape and all.

Tony squints at him, slumped back on the couch. “You know, if you were a real wizard, you’d magic me up some coffee.”

Strange looks at him. He always looks stern. Like Tony’s failing some test. It’s tiring from the rest of the supercrew; it’s not better from some rando in a RenFaire uniform. Strange gestures, with his left hand, and unfurls the fist of his right at the lab table, which--abruptly becomes a coffee table, in that there’s a pot of steaming coffee and toast and what Tony thinks is--fucking lox?

“From that deli on 44th,” Strange says, matter-of-fact. “You know, when I’m not a sorcerer I’m a doctor. In my medical opinion, you could look less like shit.”

Tony staggers upright, fetches up against the table. His head gongs like a--like a fuckin’ gong. It’s too early for metaphor. He pours a cup of coffee and ignores that his hands are trembling. “In my layman opinion you can suck my dick,” he says, friendly, and Strange rolls his eyes but he--he smiles, too, and he--doesn’t look like nearly so much of a dickhead when he smiles. Cape or no. Tony holds the cup (finest porcelain, like Tony has drunk coffee at Buckingham Palace in less-nice china than this) and squints, brain still offline, and Strange shakes his head and says, “Good luck, Tony,” and whisks away to deal with their little magical terror, and leaves Tony to think of what the hell. Just--what the hell.

*

Turns out there’s a big difference between kinds of magic. And here was Tony, just thinking that physics were physics. “No, no,” Strange says, impatiently. “There is of course the physics of our plane, which follow their own laws. Then, naturally, there is the magic of Asgard, brought forth from Yggdrasil the world-tree and the belief therein, which is the sort that Loki and Odin may perform. Then there is the magic of the Infinity Stones, which perform their own miracles, and of course there is our problem with Miss Maximoff.”

He’s drawing a chart in the air with his hands as he talks, marked out in amber light. Tony says, “Friday, take that down,” and the house grabs the image of whatever magic Strange is doing and transmutes it into data, neatly transcribed in cells and manipulable forms for Tony to grab and hold and think about, and Tony grips Strange’s leatherette-and-cape shoulder and says, “Buddy, I could kiss you,” and Strange rolls his eyes but his cape swirls up and pats Tony on the hand in a brush of woolly affection, and Tony doesn’t really think about that because he’s locked into the possibilities and sees a lot of sleepless nights ahead, but that’s okay. He’s got time to think about it, later.

*

Strange won’t give up much info about the rest of his little magic crew. Numbers, attitudes, location. “I am the representative on Earth,” is all he’ll say, and--jeez-us, what a statement.

“I am the representative of the Avengers in Oneida County,” Tony says, in exactly the same tone, and then pauses, flicking armor designs from one ephemeral bin to another. “Shit. Am I? Maybe it’s Steve. Okay. I am the deposed representative of the Avengers in--”

“You’re the one I’m talking to,” Strange says. He’s still sitting in the antique armchair he magicked up for himself, sipping tea. Seriously. Like every single thing he does is for the hashtag-aesthetic. “Mr. Rogers is certainly impressive, but it’s you who has had every actionable idea on streamlining Ms. Maximoff’s abilities. Don’t undercut yourself.”

Tony raises his eyebrows, lowers his hands. “How dare you,” he says, lightly, even if his chest feels--some kind of way. “I have never, in my life, in my entire existence, undercut myself, and in fact I think I’m going to set the StarkTech legal team on you--Friday, call up Pepper, see if we can sue the entirety of the Sanctum Sanctorum and also magic itself, and throw David Bowie in there too--”

Yes, Mister Stark, Friday says from nowhere, lightly amused just like she should be--good girl--and Strange rolls his eyes. “Don’t bring Bowie into this,” he says, mild, and Tony grins and Friday cues up Fame without even needing to be asked.

“Oh, very good choice,” Strange says, looking up at the ceiling, and Tony waves the armor out of existence and says, “Okay, Mister Wizard--dinner, and we’re talking Bowie and we’re talking King Crimson and we’re talking Yes, and you’re putting in an opinion about those star-and-moon pants Page used to wear, let’s go--” and Strange says, “First, they’re incredible; second, only if we’re getting Thai,” and Tony--Tony could just--

*

A bad night. Tony lays on the couch in the lab and hugs a bottle of very good, very rare, very expensive scotch against his ribs, and doesn’t drink it, and wants to. Above he’s had Friday peel away the armor of the ceiling and the sky’s a patchwork quilt of stars. Enough sound baffling and he can’t hear whatever might be going on in the rest of the compound; if Steve and the others are training; if anyone’s even here, but him. It’s peaceful. It sucks.

A swirl of amber. “You look ridiculous.”

“Yeah, well.” Tony shrugs. “Sometimes you get sued by grieving parents for your technology being used in exactly the way you intended and you think, fuck, they sure have a point. And then you want a ham sandwich and no one will get you one. It’s tough.”

He thinks he maybe sounded more bitter than he needed to. He maybe should’ve tried harder. He watches a satellite track across the sky, feels his body. Even now, when he breathes deep, there’s still a twinge where the reactor should be. He wishes sometimes--but it’s stupid. The reactor didn’t make him him. It wasn’t any more accountability than any other pain could’ve been.

There’s a sinking sensation, by his feet. Strange, sitting on the couch. “I could get you a ham sandwich,” he says, quiet. “But I suspect it wouldn’t do the trick.”

“Clever man, Doctor,” Tony says, acid. He closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to be acid. He imagines--the armor--dissolving slowly, the facemask melting into a broken sizzle of empty gestures. He maybe should’ve had less to drink.

“We are making progress, Tony,” Strange says. “Every day. Time... isn’t always on our side. But we do what we can. That’s all there is. What we can.”

Tony stretches his legs out. His shins bump Strange’s back. He’s not wearing the whole ensemble--cape and leather and whatever the hell. He’s in a sweater, and jeans, and he looks like someone Tony can actually touch. Something that obeys the physics Tony understands. Something real.

He puts the bottle of scotch on the floor. “Maybe a ham sandwich wouldn’t hurt,” he says, finally.

Strange--Stephen--touches his knee, lightly. He smiles at Tony, in the dark. “Mustard?” he says. “I can do whatever you want.”

Tony breathes deep. Settles. He says, “And you better add a pickle, cheapskate,” and feels Stephen squeeze his knee, and feels--well. Some kind of way.

[whetstonefires]

I have wandered into your tumblr and I want to know absolutely everything about your ideas for Earth 3 Impetus and Motion. EVERYTHING. Possibly the least relevant part of that is the family line, as Earth 3 often has really skewed versions of the characters. Would the first Johnny Quick even have a speedster grandson when he was killed and his blood used to power his successors?

Oh, cool ask! Thank you!

😄 I’m very happy to talk about this but I’m afraid you may be disappointed, because I’m Doing It Wrong. I’ve been working off and on on a bespoke Earth-3 for the past…several years. Production has slowed but not stopped. It’s up to over 300,000 words on AO3 at this point.

The issue that set me off was that tendency to skew; I didn’t like it. I found that, most of the times DC had built into Earth-3 before rebooting again, there were two countervailing currents leading writing decisions. On the one hand to make things As Wrong As Possible compared to the main timeline, and on the other to just make them…arbitrarily different.

Lois Lane is Superwoman, evil counterpart of Wonder Woman, for some reason, woop-de-do; this fits under both categories.

This process worked neither according to the ‘timeline that diverged into a Bad Timeline at some point in the distant past but somehow contains versions of the same people in the same place’ premise of the original Star Trek ‘Mirror, Mirror’ episode, nor does it work according to any direct cosmic principle of inversion, although some of the early versions claimed to.

(See: Mirror Christopher Columbus discovered Europe and then later Evil George Washington conquered England for the American Empire, what even guys. 😩)

Also Earth-3 so transparently existed almost every time it was reinvented as a place to get villains from, and to look bad in comparison to the main timeline, without any attention to making it work internally, which I thought was a damn waste of a cool concept. ‘A damn waste of a cool concept’ drives a lot of fanwork lol.

So for my world, I had the slightly conflicting goals of working as close to that amorphous thing ‘canon’ as possible, and of making the setting stand on its own, as a superhero setting, with internal causality and more or less the usual sort of hero-versus-villain logic. So I inverted the alignments of only superheroes and supervillains, and kept as much as possible of their backstories intact.

This means my stuff doesn’t map onto any canon Earth-3, especially not the one from Forever Evil because that came out after I’d already gotten all the big things pinned down. 😅 Some people get upset about this and come yell at me about how i.e. Owlman is Thomas Wayne Junior. But since I always saw that particular concept as a huge cop-out from looking at how few alterations it takes to turn Bruce Wayne into a spectacular villain, I was like ‘nuts to that’ from the start.

If you’re cool with my relationship with canon, on we go.

-&-

So, Impetus and Motion! I don’t remember what I said on that one post where I remember blathering about it, so forgive me if I repeat myself. ^^

Lineage is the same as canon, technically. I’ll go over it; if you don’t care just skip ahead to the next subsection. 😄

Mirror Barry Allen, the Dash, got his villain name for his signature kill technique of grabbing someone, hyperaccelerating them, and then letting go at the right moment that they get dashed against something immovable and go splat. He dashes people against things.

(His eventual sidekick, Blaze, got his for liking to make things combust by accelerating their molecules. The combination makes them sound like a pair of racehorses, which they did not intend and are very annoyed by when it’s pointed out.)

The Dash is pretty scary, especially because most of the ways he abuses his speed for profit are so low-key nobody even notices (i.e. screwing with the stock market) and he doesn’t need to be a supervillain. He just likes it.

His public villain profile is relatively low for the level of danger he poses, tho, because his town is infested with really dumb superheroes who beat him embarrassingly often, when he actually turns up to fight or is successfully ambushed. And with the occasional exception the scale of his crimes is fairly small compared to i.e. Ultraman.

Keeping him imprisoned is ridiculously difficult, tho. He can’t be completely depowered (because the Speed Force is external to him and all the power dampeners that are used assume they’re trying to shut off something generated internally) and he’s really smart, so it took years of battles to keep him long enough to transfer into a proper cell even, and longer to get an unblurred look at his face.

His secret identity survived so long that Barry Allen was there to comfort Iris West after she was targeted by the Dash on several occasions, and they were married by the time he got ultimately unmasked.

She left him after that and moved back to the future, which she was still from because that’s hilarious, but he eventually tracked her down and promised to reform if she’d take him back. This obviously fell apart eventually, but not until after the twins were born.

I haven’t mapped out the mirror Thawne line. I assume the Thawnes with healing powers who inadvertently adopted Barry’s twin were much nicer in this timeline but idk if he ever became Cobalt Blue or what. I hope he lived to old age. Apparently there have been multiple Cobalts Blue? Idk idc, Flash continuity what even are you.

Everyone thought Eobard Thawne was nuts, but he actually did go back in time and stop the Dash from destroying the world with nukes in a fit of rage, his historical analysis, method of giving himself speed powers, and time machine were all successful. He may additionally suffer from some degree of psychosis, but he wasn’t wrong. (His little brother still exists in this universe because good!Eobard wasn’t the type to manipulate time to erase inconvenient family members. He also doesn’t have the title Professor because he never got tenure, so he just goes by Zoom.)

-&-

Bart is still Don and Meloni’s kid. Frankly I don’t understand those two in the normal timeline, so it’s hard to construct their mirror versions in any depth or even decide whether they should get mirrored. (Probably not tbh.) But I don’t exactly need to, because the resulting Bart is very much the same and thus doesn’t really know them. He was still born with his weird speed glitch that caused him to be raised in a simulation, and eventually time-traveled to un-glitch him.

The difference is that he’s not a nice kid. He’s a two year old who looks twelve and has received all his socialization from reasonably good AI in a world that was not real. Where nothing had consequences. Where nobody was real.

He’s very frightening, is Impetus. Impetuous, wildly powerful, selfish–oddly sweet, occasionally, in the ‘gay and innocent and heartless’ way of Peter Pan, but probably even more likely than Peter to knife someone. He’s so delighted the first time he eats actual ice cream, as opposed to a simulated version, but the ice cream stand is now on fire.

Mirror Bart isn’t so much cruel or even un-empathetic as solipsistic. He’s arrested in the state of an intellectually advanced toddler playing, what’s that game called, the one where the objective seems to be getting in car chases a lot? When was the last time they made a new one, I feel like I haven’t heard it mentioned in ages, it’s a dead franchise isn’t it I’m old. Grand Theft Auto! That’s it. He doesn’t just not understand that danger is real, the way Impulse started out. People aren’t.

Impetus is easily bored and surrounded by NPCs. It gets ugly, sometimes.

He also time-travels a lot more frequently than normal Bart, because he doesn’t really get attached so he doesn’t try to maintain a normal life of any kind, so he pops up all over the timestream.

Jason Blood hated him personally long before Bart had any idea who he was; they have a villain rivalry plagued by causality issues and closed time loops that is alternately epic and stupid as fuck.

And then there’s Thad. Thad’s had a less awful time than he did in canon, I think–President Thawne is not technically a supervillain so he’s probably about the same as in the original timeline, but even assuming Meloni and Don are still out of the picture (probably it’s Barry’s fault in this dimension?) raising a kid as a ‘defense mechanism against a supervillain’ calls for less extreme brainwashing fuckery than raising one to hunt down a superhero.

So he probably behaved a bit more like a reasonable grandparent, simply because the context incentivized him to emphasize concepts like duty and loyalty more, and hatred less. He might even have been able to go public with Thad’s existence, depending on the spin he came up with. Among other factors.

But it was still a depressing, isolated, dehumanizing way to grow up, and it went on a long time, because as per canon Thad has the opposite problem from Bart in terms of how he passes through time. Motion is a 40-year-old man with a 12 year old’s body and approximate life experience.

Thad was already So Tired when he finally got out into the world on his own, and once he encountered Impetus he learned pretty quickly to both pity and fear him.

Even when Thad tries to avoid Bart and just have a life, Bart always crashes back into his existence again, and in the meantime he feels guilty. Because even if he could completely shake off having been raised to see countering Impetus as his whole reason for existence, he’d still feel a lot of personal responsibility to try, because he has the ability to stand up to him in a way almost no one else does, and he knows Bart’s out there resulting in casualties.

Due to all the time travel involved, even having just defeated Impetus doesn’t mean he’s not still out there at an accessible point in the timestream, needing to be stopped.

Impetus results in Motion the way Inertia resists Impulse. They’re very much locked into an action-and-reaction framework that does not even a little bit help with Thad’s clone identity issues.

Except for how the amount of time Thad spends saving people from Bart has slowly created a fairly large body of people over the course of history who know them as distinct entities, and like Thad a lot better. 

Good feels good. ^^ It’s not necessarily the case that this happens, obviously, but with their alignment swap they also ultimately exchanged who’s defined by isolation. It takes Bart a long, long time to even understand that he’s lonely.

[spiltscribbles]

Taste Like Coming Home

 @Notes: Huge thank yo to @ravens-world who made this so much better than what it was!!! <3<3

A REBLOG IS WORTH A THOUSAND STARS<3

.-

Adam’s always appreciated the light thrumming of life that buzzed in Washington, even in the middle of the night. It’s nowhere near as loud as Boston had been, but still, it distracts Adam from floundering in his own thoughts that even now threaten to swallow him whole in an ocean of insecurities and doubts (that had first bore to life in the precarious stillness subsequent Robert’s fists and his mother’s impassive gaze) . ((Adam had lost count of how many nights he'd spent like this, wondering if he’ll ever be good enough to earn his parent’s affections, Gansey’s friendship, Blue’s warmth, Ronan's-Ronan's everything. )) Adam is always questioning if he’ll ever be good enough to deserve the near reverent way Ronan regards him, has always regarded him. To deserve the soft touches and encapsulating kisses and the way Ronan looks at Adam as if he’s the answer to his every question, as if Ronan could find what he’s looking for whispered between the space of Adam’s lips.

Adam tries not to linger too much on the latter anymore, because he knows he'll never find a sensible answer. Knows that he’s never deserved Ronan and all Ronan’s brought to his world. He'd transformed the muted grayscale of his carefully methodical outlook into vivid tones of impossibilities come true. No matter how much he loves Ronan, how he never wants to be without him. Ronan has become a fixture in his very soul that he could never fathom existing without, and yet Adam is still so very inept. Still can’t tell him his feelings in so many words— more often than not opting for gentle caresses and tender kisses that can bring his feelings to life— and he knows he still comes off distant and cold during their more real arguments, despite how sparing they might be. Adam can’t ever contort his mouth in the right ways to speak out loud words of comfort and vulnerability he was so deprived of once upon a time. But still, he tries. Adam tries because this is Ronan, and he wouldn’t be true to himself if he didn’t give Ronan— give them— all he had.

“It’s not your fault,” Adam says, flicks off residue from one of the bright blue creepy-crawlies that had followed Ronan into the real world, from his legs.

Ronan’s only response is an incredulous huff.

Looking at him now, Adam can’t help but marvel at how beautiful and sincere and unshielded he truly is. The dark shadows paint across his face and the light spills over him so that his profile is nothing but flat planes, made all the more sharp, and pale eyes shifting to a haunting, stormy grey rather than the icy oceans Adam has always known and has always ben able to see through. Eyes he’s been enthralled with for forever, even when  he only viewed Ronan as the savagely handsome best friend of Gansey’s who infuriated him in ways Adam never was able to completely comprehend.

“Don’t. Don’t do that,” Adam tells him, moving so that they’re shoulder to shoulder. “Don’t push me out because you’re mad.”

“I’m not,” Ronan says, hurried and stubborn, his face morphing into something desperate. 

“Ronan,” Adam says, but actually means bullshit, and the translation seems to have gone through if the decidedly ceded expression that passes over Ronan’s rough but handsome features is anything to go by.

“I hate that I can’t control it, no matter what I do.”

“Hey,” Adam laces their fingers together and squeezes. “Nothing happened.” He kisses Ronan’s shoulder right then, is relieved when he feels the slight loosening of tension there. He’s suddenly, acutely thankful to all the stars above that Ronan can understand the spaces of words that go unspoken between them.

“Yeah, this time,” Ronan sours, eyes flickering to their closed door and Adam understands him completely. Understands that Ronan doesn’t care if those poisonous arachnids had bitten him, Ronan never cared. The only thing Ronan cares about when concerning bringing back his uncontrolled dream things is the possibility that they could hurt any number of the three people he loves more than breathing. One, Adam, who sleeps right besides him every night. And the other two— their set of twins— are just right across the hall.

“It could so easily go wrong.”

“It won’t,” Adam says with more steel than even he expected.

“How do you know?” Ronan asks chargingly. Hesitantly. Imploringly. Like someone would ask a prophet.

“Ro,” Adam says, quiet and tentative while he runs the pads of his fingers down Ronan’s cheek, tracing the outline of his nose and lips and jaw. His fingertips land on the hollow where Adam could feel his heartbeat,  and he swoops forward to press an open mouthed kiss to it. He revels in the sensation of Ronan carding a hand through his hair, nails lightly scratching Adam’s scalp. “I’m here for you, always. I won’t ever let anything happen to you or the kids, and I know you won't either. Stop worrying, okay? ” Another kiss on Ronan’s mouth, arms wrapped around his waste to pull him even closer. “Else you’ll start getting wrinkle lines and I’ll have to find myself some new arm candy.”

“Pff,” Ronan snorts, rubs a ginger hand down Adam’s naked back. He can feel the cool scrape of the golden wedding band Adam’s got a matching pair to. “If anyone’s the trophy husband here it’s totally you.”

“Fuck off.” 

“Lynch farms just got another expansion, fuck face,” Ronan preens, and Adam loves him like this. Boasting and teasing and always, always so soft whenever he peers down at Adam. “Me and my herd are gonna blow fucking Wisconsin right off the map with our Dairy prowls.”

“Actually, I think California’s now the state to beat for title of Dairy capitol,” Adam corrects with a nonchalant shrug.

“What the fuck ever,” Ronan snipes, words full of humor.

“Come back to bed.”

“I shouldn’t,” Ronan frowns, and Adam doesn’t miss the fear, fear that’s only ever directed at himself, that ghosts across his face. Adam parts his lips to argue and chide at him that he needs to trust himself, but Ronan must’ve seen that coming from a mile ahead because he stops it with another resounding kiss that Adam can feel to his core.

“Had to be up anyways,” Ronan explains amidst heavy breaths that mirror Adam’s own. “Me and Opal were gonna check out that Farmer’s Market back in Henrietta and Declan wanted to join.”

“Fine,” Adam gripes, follows him out the bedroom to help collect the things he’ll be needing, partially because he’s too riled  up to go back to bed now, but mostly because he knows that if he leaves now, Ronan won’t be back until late afternoon. He always misses him so achingly during these long trips away from their home.

God does Adam love that, the idea that he’s got this. He’s got a home that he gets to share with the man he loves more than any other and his two kids that he would willingly lay down his life for. Sometimes he has to stop and just take it all in, climb out of the memories of crying on the steps of the trailer wondering if anything was worth existing for in this world and thinking that the kid he was finally found that worth.

Adam passes Ronan a thermos  of coffee for him and an herbal tea for Opal, sends him off with one final peck of farewell. 

“You should welcome me home with a martini,” Ronan goads, grin gone sharp and slightly feral. “Put on a slutty genie outfit?”

Adam pinches his forearm, hard.

“I will never play out some kinda  I Dream of Jeannie tableau for you dickwad, get over it.”

“You can’t blame a man for trying,” Ronan shrugs, goes off to kiss the tops of the kids’ sleeping heads. He gives Adam one more kiss before he has to finally head out to the BMW.

Sometimes Adam forgets that these long days apart are just as hard for him.

.-

“Is it Daddy’s birthday?” Livvy asks, eyebrows hiked, and lips pitched. 

“No,” says Adam while pulling out spare mixing bowls from the cupboard— it's a miracle that he even knows where they are, if he’s being at all honest. In their household, the kitchen is largely Ronan’s realm of expertise and all Adam’s good for is washing dishes and the  occasional  toasting of bread.

“Are you graduating again?” Gage— a near spitting image of his sister, with all their trappings of dark hair and intense eyes and thin lips, asks  owlishly.

“Not that either.”

“Then why on God’s green earth are we baking cupcakes?”

Jesus fucking Christ, do these kids have some mouths on them. Adam would like to blame it totally on Ronan’s frame of mind that unfiltered speech is the only way he’d speak around his kids, but Adam knows that ever since they had first brought them home, ten months old and just barely crawling, that they’ve gotten just as much of his cynical outlook than what Adam would’ve liked.

“Because, squirt,” Adam pulls out his phone to search for a decently simple recipe he both had the ingredients to, , and one that wouldn’t turn out an utter mess. “Daddy woke up a bit sad this morning and I thought that if we made him this, it would show him we're thinking bout him and he wouldn’t be so sad anymore.”

The twins look suitably cowed at that, both pairs of eyes going pleading and chorusing a thousand questions on whether Ronan’s okay and when he’ll be coming home and how they could help.

“He’s fine, kiddos, just was gonna miss you guys when he went out with Opal and Uncle Declan today. But he’ll be home any minute, so I wanna make sure this is done by then, kay?”

Gage nods with grave certainty, wielding a whisk like a weapon of war, but Livvy still looks a bit unsure.

“Aunt Blue says that your cooking should be considered a weapon of mass destruction.”

“Like a nuke!” Gage tacks on helpfully.

“Or mustard gas.”

“Ooo! Or like—“

“Neither of you are ever allowed to say the names of weapons out loud again! Not ever!" Adam scolds with no actual heat.

“Hey, but what about,” Gage points to Chainsaw, who’s perching atop the refrigerator watching them. 

“Not my problem.”

They both roll their eyes but don’t press him on it.

“Papa, are you sure you can do this?”

“It’s baking, Liv, not cooking a full course meal," he says, only slightly indignant.

“Ms Gomez says that baking is just like science and that’s why it’s way harder than just normal cooking.”

Adam’s expression goes flat.

“You get to crack the eggs,” he tells her in lieu of a response.  

“Oh, yay!” Livvy crows. Gage howls with the unfairness of it all.

.-

An hour and a half later finds the white marble top island of their spacious kitchen splattered with batter and oil and substances Adam is almost positive he doesn’t recognize. There’s a tray of a dozen cupcakes in the oven but Adam isn’t quite sure that they’re meant to be staying flat, refusing to rise even once the halfway mark passes— that along with the fact that the toothpicks literally are stuck once used to puncture doesn’t bode well. The sink had overflown about a dozen times because one of them keeps forgetting to turn off the water once they’ve rinsed a dish.

All and all, it probably could’ve been worse.

“Aunt Blue’s always right,” Livvy says sagely.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Adam can’t help but agree while frowning at the mess, his heart contracting the moment he hears the front door swing open and the recognizable thudding of Ronan’s farm boots.

“Oh joy,” he mutters as the kids dash off to the front parlor, leaping into Ronan’s arms, batter splattered hands and all.

“Mother of God, Parrish,” he bellows, obviously in a better mood than this morning. “What are these changelings doing here and where are our actual kids?”

Adam can’t help the way his mouth dips down into a small, delighted grin, his heart doing palpitations at the sight of the three people he loves more than anything all together in one spot.

“No, Daddy!” Livvy squawks. “It’s us!”

“We were making you cupcakes because we thought you were sad and we hate it when you’re sad and we love you and Papa is really bad at anything in the kitchen, but he tried.”

“Thanks, Gage,” Adam ruffles a hand in his hair, tugs softly on Livvy’s pigtail, before kissing Ronan hello.

“You taste like shit that’ll rot my teeth.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Ronan’s answering laugh is something splendid. 

“You guys didn’t have to go through the trouble.”

“We love you, Daddy,” Livvy argues, kissing the back of his hand and making Ronan’s expression go gentle in the way it only ever does for them.

“Thanks, princess. I love you more, though.”

Livvy sticks out her tongue, contentious, and Ronan follows suit by pulling a face at her that makes it so she’s cackling.

“Look, I’m sure your Pops has made the kitchen a living nightmare,” Ronan says, and Adam glares at him, affronted. “So what about we go out to grab something sweet? Sit out on the peer while eating it?”

Livvy and Gage  chorus excited words of affirmation and Adam refuses to let Ronan in the kitchen till it’s cleaned up.

“Fuck, it looks like World War III or some shit in there, doesn’t it?”

“One more crack at my cooking resembling a war zone and I swear I’m filing for a divorce,” Adam threatens.

Ronan just laughs and something deep in Adam’s chest blooms, pleased that at the very least the cupcakes had their intended effect.

[miniminisb]

ˢᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗ’ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵘˡᵗ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ

okay bUCKLE UP FUCKERS IT’S TIME FOR THE DUMBEST MISTAKE OF MY LIFE. I preface this by saying, I am a dumbass. I am a complete, irrevocable, plain dumbass. Do not do this at home. Do not pass go. Do not collect 200 dollars. Heed my warnings. also technically not a cult but basically a cult you’ll see just sit tight.

It was a nice sunny day in September 2017. The seasons were beginning to turn. I had just gotten out of my Intro to Logic class. I felt good. I thought to myself, “Man. Such a nice day. I think I’ll do my homework outside today. Enjoy the weather before it goes to shit.”

So there I was, barbecue sauce on my titties doing some, i dunno, categorical reasoning? Just, sitting beneath a tree, enjoying the day, when two girls walk up to me. They say they’re trying to start a club on campus, and they wonder if I have some time to talk real quick. I have some time before my next class. I’m pretty much done with this homework. I say sure.

Mistake number one.

They sit down and ask if I have ever read the Bible. My stomach immediately sinks. I don’t necessarily have things against organized religion, but… American Christians make me nervous. They really do. Growing up, you get a lot of people at your door and you get a lot of crazies telling you you’re gonna go to hell. They can pick pick the weak out of a crowd and target them for their schemes.

I am the weak.

So I chuckle nervously. I’m in danger! I say no, not really. Kinda. I grew up in a small town and would go to church with friends sometimes hahahahahahaha. They seem alright, kinda. They pull out their own Bible and start flipping through it for certain passages, giving the schpiel of “oh God loves you, Jesus died for our sins, yada yada” and I’m like, yeah, cool. Whatever.

Then it gets weird. They start talking about the end of the world, Armageddon, the apocalypse, whatever ya wanna call it. They say this time was prophecized in the Bible, snatching on weird passages to claim that North Korea is gonna drop nukes. They say that this will happen where the four corners of the earth meet, and are adamant to say that it’s referring to our area (I go to college at the Four Corners Region in the US of A).

They say how, because it’s gonna happen, it’s more important than ever to save your soul, get baptized, whatever. They ask if I have been baptized. And I say haha no, not yet, like I said I’m not really Christian, hahahah-

Mistake number two.

The girl in charge of the situation nods in a sort of understanding manner. They continue their schpiel, really starting to hit home that saving your soul and accepting the big J is important. They also said jesus was married to the city of jerusalem? For some reason??? Idk man if you’re christian can you explain this to me?

Same girl then goes, out of nowhere, “would you ever consider getting baptized?”

Listen guys. I know I put off big chaotic energy, give no fucks, can’t mess with me persona on here. But in the words of Kim Namjoon, who the hell am i? I am, without a doubt, a spineless bitch who doesn’t know how to stand up for herself when faced with the smallest amount of conflict and no outward reason to refuse people. Y’all, as I write this, I am shaking and my heart is pounding because yes, you can probably see where this is going. And yes, I am that dumb.

I chuckle nervously, fiddle with my hands, and go “haha maybe if my friend would want me to idk” just like, full on passive avoidance shrink-into-yourself of someone who desperately wants this shit to end but really can’t find an out.

And the girl looks me dead in the eyes. “Well, that’s good. But you would have to do it for yourself. Would you ever get baptized for yourself.”

“I mean, maybe? I guess? Hahah I dunno, yeah, maybe.”

MISTAKE NUMBER THREE.

The two bitches perk up. “We can do it now!” bitch what. I have like, maybe 20 minutes until class at this point. I’m shaking. I’m like, man, I just wanted to do my logic homework. And now, I get into fight or flight mode. I can’t miss class. I feel scared. These girls think north korea cares about fucking new mexico and arizona enough to nuke a place which, objectively, has little to no people living there. Like, what, you’re gonna bomb aliens? Whatever.

I really start to say. No. can’t do it. I have class. I really have class, it’s soon, can’t do it. No. And they keep pushing. “It’ll only take five minutes. It’ll be fine. You’ll be okay. Only five minutes.”

Now, what should I have done? I should have picked up my stuff and said “thank you, but no. I need to leave.” I should have said “you women are making me uncomfortable. I said no. Leave me alone. You are crazy.” I should have raised my middle finger to them which, conveniently, has a pentacle ring on it.

Instead, I caved and said fine.

M͏̤̤I̩S̖̙͝T̯̕A̧̗͙K̩͕̺̕E҉̞͙̞̮ ̤��͕͔N̷̗͙̙ͅU͚͇̯̦͙M̩͙͖B̵̬̝̤̪E̪̺̟͙ͅṞ̼ ̩͉͍͎͎̼͘F̩̦͔̩O̘̭UṞ͉̯͍

The other girl who has remained relatively quiet, jumps up. “Great! I’ll call our minister, he’ll pull up the van!”

The what.

I don’t say anything. I should have. Listen, I don’t know how I was supposed to get baptized in the middle of the day on a Wednesday but fuck, I did not expect to get taken off campus. We have a fucking non denominational chuch on campus. So, who would’ve thunk? Not me!

“The what?”

The girls jump up and seem super excited. I am shaking as I pick up my bag and follow them to the parking lot. Meanwhile I’m screaming silently to myself what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. You know, like a normal person. So at least I wasn’t completely insane.

“We’re just taking you to our church, don’t worry.” And for some reason, that does put me at ease a lil. Cuz, like, I may be a stinking heathen who’s gone to church so many times that she can count it on one hand, but I do have the belief that nice pretty churches are save havens. So, I do feel a little okay.

I still get into a fucking car tho so there’s that I guess.

The dude pulls up. He is… idk he looked like one of those creepy religious fucks from like a horror movie. Dead behind the eyes. We all pack into the car. I’m trying not to cry, honestly. I’m really trying to keep this light cuz it is pretty funny when you step back but keep in mind I was terrified and I don’t know how to say no.

It is only after we pull away that I have the dawning thought. I’m basically getting kidnapped. They could take me fucking anywhere and no one would know and I wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop it. Three against one.

As we’re leaving my fucking campus I check the clock. I have, like. Five minutes until my next class. I am a dumbass.

The girl shows me like… an apocalypse video??? for some reason??? Like wow thanks bitch but you already told me the world was gonna end but aight.

I’m hardcore like, astral projecting at this point. Full on dissociation. I do not exist on this plane anymore.

We pull into a fucking starbucks parking lot next to some town homes.

“We’re here!” Where’s the church? Where’s the steeple? Bitch I just see modern condos what the HELL is happening. We get out of the car and go up to one of these fucking apartments basically. Fucking Youth Pastor John unlocks the place and.

Guys.

The church was just a fucking townhome. I’m like. Just. Guys the area where the congregation met was a fucking living room with like maybe six chairs and a podium. On the bright side, lovely open floor plan.

They guide me upstairs.

To the bathroom.

They hand me like… a fucking robe and say I can undress and put that on. They give me a moment but even then i’m like FUCK that. Undressing in a strange house? That’s where I draw the line! Nope, no disrobing for me, thanks! I still put on the robe because apparently it’s like, ritually significant?

Got into my new swanky clothes and they come back in. They start filling up a shitty plastic bucket with water in the tub. At this point, i’m just like:

They tell me to kneel in the tub and raise my hands in prayer. I follow orders, trying to ignore the fact that I am in a strange place that is very much not a church, that I am currently wearing weird periwinkle robes, knowing that people are in class right now just. Learning about fucking Mesopetamia or some shit i forget what the class was about.

The Hannah Montana from Hell Squad prays over me as they pour cupfuls of bucket water over my head. My underclothes are now drenched. My hair is wet. My knees hurt because I’m kneeling in a fucking bathtub.

“Congrats! Your soul is saved!” I have to get to class!

They give me a moment to take off the fucking robes and I collect my things. I step out and i’m like “great I’m late for class, take me back!”

“Oh, but you still need to have passover.”

Passover is a Jewish Holiday practiced in mid to late spring. It’s September. Y’all are christian. But I literally cannot leave, so I follow them into the kitchen where they put a veil on me. The other two girls put on veils as well. I’ve fully surpassed crying and reached silent resignation to my fate as the guy prays over some fucking communion wafers and some grape juice. I take the lil bits of food, luckily too since i fucking missed lunch because of them but at least I have some grape juice to fill me up.

“Now, we know that this is not the correct time for passover, but we needed to do it to save your soul. Now, practice Passover every year from now on to make sure you show your dedication to God and make sure your soul is saved.”

They do take me back to campus. I am in soaking short shorts and a red flannel. It is, to say the least, very moist and uncomfortable as I start to stick to the faux leather seats of this mini van.

I’m like “cool great thanks for having me!” as they pull up to my building, and as I try to get out, the quieter girl (who, genuinely, seemed to be fond of me) asked if she could have my number.

HEY YOU KNOW HOW THIS STORY STARTED? WITH ME LACKING THE ABILITY TO SAY NO TO PEOPLE? YOU REMEMBER THAT? HUH!?

But this time, ohhoho, I have a plan. I’ll give her a fake number! That’ll teach her! So I punch in a few random numbers really hastily because I am still in this fucking van and I am twenty five minutes late for a fifty five minute class.

“Cool can we test it real quick to make sure we have the right number?”

And, like a dog with my tail between my legs, I very quietly go “yeah uhm i think i put in the wrong number hang one second” and fixed it to my actual number. Like a goddamn moron.

I sprint out of the van. Walk into my class soaking wet with my head down at my professor is in the middle of a lecture. I find my seat in the back of the classroom on the other side, so everyone has seen me. My friend leans up to me as I sit down, and asks me where I have been. I tell her that I got lost during a hike and fell into a creek.

Now, what is the moral of this story, children? If anyone asks you if you want to get baptized on a Wednesday in the middle of September, simply say

[slifers-executive-writer]

A Overall Discussion About Godzilla: King of the Monsters 2019.

It has been awhile since I wrote an original piece on my blog, and while I’ve stated this is mostly for my writing and anime fandom, I cannot help but include one of my other passions. That is of course the movies. One topic that has been going around the internet lately is the potential flop that is Godzilla:KOTM 2019. I will put it out there right now, that while this movie isn’t doing as good as I would like, I’m sure it will make its money back and I certainly don’t think it is a flop. But my main reason for writing this particular discussion is to clear the air about where this film stands. I’ve been hearing a lot of reviews both top critical and various Youtubers complain about this thing and my overall observation is a lot of them claim to ‘like’ Godzilla and yet clearly don’t understand a goddamn thing.

A very similar thing happened with Detective Pikachu. Both movies not scoring that great on Rotten Tomatoes and overall critic/Youtuber reception being very mixed, yet the general audience seemed to enjoy both summer blockbusters. Both films suffered from a lot of ‘reviewers’ not doing even the smallest amount of research on source material before opening their big angry mouths and complaining why certain characters or concepts weren’t included.  

And example complaint on these films were:

Detective Pikachu: wHeRe Is TeAm RoCkeT?

Godzilla KOTM: wHy ArEn’T tHeRe OtHeR tOhO mOnStErS?

Yes these were real complaints.

Now in all honesty, I know neither of these movies are masterpieces as in terms of depth of plot or character arcs. If I had to choose one, I would definitely say it terms of the human elements, Detective Pikachu was a much better film. So I am fully aware that these flicks are complete nostalgia pandering hunks of cheese. 

And yet I still found myself enjoying both films to the point where I clapped at the end. The same way almost everyone and their grandmother did for the Avengers. So what is it about this hot garbage making so many people flock to the theaters multiple times to see them?

It’s the simple fact that we have had these Japanese properties in our lives for several decades. Pokemon (1998) & Godzilla (1954). If anyone grew up on either of these or both (such as myself) then we know that as long as these Americanized films are a loads of fun, we can forgive the lazy messy plots. But perhaps that is why these movies aren’t what we all wish they could be...because they are created on American soil. 

You see unfortunately, Hollywood has been in one of the most non-creative/reboot mayhem crisis I’ve ever witnessed. Big corporate studios have to pump out as many safe reboot/non original IPs as possible and it seems to have lost most it’s writing talent as well. If certain directors and producers aren’t behind a project, then the adapted movie (such those inspired by anime and other foreign film franchises) probably won’t have much substance. Not to mention Western filmmakers and our critics don’t seem to fully understand the culture shock of the growing popularity in these Japanese properties. Nor do they understand the appeal of these features, hence all the negative/angry reviews. We have seen this time and time again. And it is nothing new.

Now let’s get back to Godzilla: KOTM. It was a fun ride no doubt. The CGI was incredible, and with certain recent Marvel and DC films, this is a mark a lot of those films miss. So thank Godzilla that our beloved kaijus and other effects looked gorgeous. The cinematography for the monsters was also done very well. There are plenty of moments where we truly understand the grand size of these creatures. Overall the fights were awesome and mind numbing. And the music, oh my god the scoring was incredible. Done by Bear McCreary, who did the recent God of War installation did our Kaiju King a great service. Paying homage to classic Godzilla themes was the perfect icing on the cake. So what was the big complaint? 

Lol These dumbasses. The people in any robot/kaiju/creature feature seem to be the hardest thing directors cannot figure out no matter how hard they try. But let us admit that we as viewers are pretty hypocritical in this argument. On one hand we ask for a shit ton of monster brawls and on the other hand, we complain their are too many explosions and that the effect wears off after a while. We want human stories and then we complain that they are in the movie at all. Godzilla KOTM by no means has a good human story. Some moments with the military and Ken Watanabe were fine, but the idiots in the images above this movie did not need...like at all. I especially hated the father and mother figures. Like yeah Eleven (Milly Bobby Brown), I would run the fuck away too. I’m not excusing the writers for the shitty human plot, I’m just explaining as to why we still suffer from this problem. However, if you are a fan of the Godzilla franchise, you know for a majority of the films, the human plot is not much better than what we see here. Maybe that was Michael Dougherty’s point. He claimed that this was the ultimate film for Godzilla fans and quite frankly, maybe he is right.

Aside from the very first film (Gojira 1954), the human elements of these films were always lack luster, silly, and even forced. Yet so many people are quick to judge our American filmmakers for ruining what ‘only the Japanese can do right’ and in all honesty I’ve never heard such a false statement. The image above is from one of my favorites, Godzilla 2000. Japan’s fuck you to the terrible 1998 film. But when watching this, did you really care about this guy, his daughter, and his dumbass girlfriend. Or the scientists and their anime-esque villain. The answer is probably no. In any of these kaiju films, very rarely do we ‘really’ care about the people. We just want to see the action. The plots are always, cliche, predictable, and stuffing in some bullshit environmental awareness message. Nukes are bad and people suck. But we love Godzilla (practically a walking nuke) anyway. 

Godzilla KOTM, is the same shit we’ve seen before only with American styled editing and tropes. So lots of quick cuts and a focus on the family unit. But hey the special effects are so much better than anything we have seen previously. I don’t have to laugh when I see wires and crappy green screen, or using the same footage from a previous movie. Nope. All our favorite kaijus are in beautiful IMAX quality and are ready to wreck cities worldwide. This is the film fans asked for and we got it. Oh and before the next person complains that the Japanese can only do it better, here is what was done before this.

We got Evangelion Goji with AIDs and CG Tree Goji with Ramen Noddles Ghidorah. While Shin Godzilla was a masterpiece over seas, if you didn’t understand the political subtext, then this film was an angsty destructive ride by a guy who can’t even finish his own art thesis of an anime. (I totally don’t have mixed feelings over Evangelion lol). I didn’t hate Shin Godzilla. It had its moments, but I didn’t think it held the same power of the film it was trying to emulate. Not to mention the CGI and sound design at points were just dreadful. As for the Netflix anime Godzilla trilogy...just wow. Aside from loving the physical design of this new Goji and his new powers, this story was worse than awful, it was downright boring. Even hardcore Godzilla fans had a hard time defending this mess of bad CG. With a promise of multiple featured kaiju and Mecha Godzilla, we get a hunk of nano metal and the only other kaiju actually featured looking like a pack of Maruchan coming down to like ...basically have a staring contest with Godzilla and then evaporate. What a fight for the ages...

In conclusion, I’m not sure if and when either Japan or American will ever truly get it right. We may like certain aspects of one film but hate the rest of it and the cycle will continue on and on. But as far as KOTM goes, I’m happy it exists and hope it does well enough for Legendary to renew its licenses with Toho. I and many others just want Godzilla in the roster and to continue the legacy. Something for future generations of children and adults to enjoy the romping monsters and hear their iconic roars. We can’t let this current toxic and hating Internet culture bitch and complain about concepts and niche cultures it doesn’t fully understand. Like the anime community, the Godzilla fandom is a unique one and has a niche audience. But perhaps like what the Marvel movies have done for comic book fans, the exclusion will lessen over time and become more mainstream. But for now, Godzilla KOTM is meant for a particular group of people and it seems for that bunch, it has made them plenty happy. Myself included. 

So what are your thoughts on this movie and others like?

Feel free to share your comments, reblogs, and however else you would like to respond down below. 

[crawl-out-through-the-callout]

Fallout 4 Mods on PS4

So I made a list of all the mods I have active on my current file. In doing so I found some I need to, uh, change or that are redundant, but I can still fully endorse any of these mods. For context, I have the Season Pass, I'm on the PS4 and usually play on Very Hard. The balance feels okay in that it's never outright impossible but situations vary wildly from easy and hilarious to drain-the-blood-from-your-face levels of oh shit. I can also safely say this is the prettiest mixture of mods that I've ever had. Anyway, the mods:

Armor and Weapon Keywords Community Resource (AWKCR) (PS4: All DLC) Creator: Valdacil Notes: Important. For everything. Seriously.

USO Base Game (core component of Unlocked Settlement Objects) USO Season Pass USO Mashups Creator: ANDREWCX Notes: Good for people like myself who spend entirely too much time decorating settlements.

Integrated Commonwealth Creator: ANDREWCX Notes: Actually makes the DLC kind of mixed with the main region instead of this weird, walled-off land you can only really tell your other companions about.

[PS4] SimpleGreen - SimpleSeasons 'Spring' [PS4] SimpleGreen / SimpleYellow / SimpleRed (Nuka-World Plugin) Creator: ANDREWCX Notes: I know it's fall and all, but it's been 200 years and plants are vicious little buggers. If nothing else, Boston should be drowning in kudzu.

[PS4] Cages Overhauled & More Creator: 3lric Notes: Kidnap and adopt local faction members, synths, and creatures, and get robot settlers that work.

[PS4] Overgrowth, Immersive Living Forests And Grasslands [PS4] Overgrowth, Far Harbor Creator: MisterOverseer Notes: -and sure, the bombs in Fallout are supposed to be crazy strong, and it's not like people have stopped using nukes there since the Great War, but if people can live there, plants certainly should be. And Nagasaki and Hiroshima look just fine today. It's been way longer in Fallout.

Reverb And Ambiance Overhaul -  ALL DLC [PS4] Creator: Mm137 Notes: The reverb sometimes sets back to max at odd intervals - I usually keep it at around half - but it makes the audio blend into the various settings so much better. You'll be less eager to throw an explosive in that pipe you're standing in, but it's more immersive and just sounds nice. The radio echoing off of old walls in abandoned rooms is especially nice.

[PS4] Eli's Tweaks and Fixes All-In-One Creator: TheRealElianora Notes: So, so many of these bugs needed this. Water, power, and defense go up more per their sources, weights have been altered, you can get a new molerat disease cure by befriending Curie and gathering a bunch of stuff, and more unique game items don't get dropped into the 'junk' category - like MacCready's toy soldier.

[PS4] Water Redux Creator: lamanise Notes: Looks good. Like, so good. The water is changed based on what kind of body of water it is and whether or not it's stagnant.

Limited Minutemen Quests [PS4] Creator: Chucksteel Notes: Poor, sweet Preston. He didn't ask for that overwhelming sense of duty, and this mod helps the both of you out. You won't be constantly getting asked to help settlements (or failing the quests when you don't immediately jump on them) and he gets to relax a little.

[PS4] OCDecorator Creator: Ethreon Notes: For placing all those little objects in your settlements without worrying about a settler making them explode into an interior decorating disaster.

Time Scale changed from 20 to 6 [PS4] Creator: StormLord Notes: Longer days, longer nights. Makes keeping track of in-game time easier and more immersive without outright breaking any quests.

Peaceful Radstags Creator: Ash1597 Notes: No more bloodthirsty companions running off to murder the local wildlife for, uh, existing.

Loaded Loading Screens Creator: PoppaMcNikap Notes: Funniest mod by far, is even better if you're familiar with the original ones. Had actually made me laugh out loud sometimes.

Be smol (p small) NO DLC! [PS4] Creator: Drhamm Notes: I'm short. I like my character being short, too. Only makes some animations (like putting a fusion core in Power Armor) look silly at its worst, is otherwise very immersive.

Sanctuary No More Hammering Creator: Djpudz Notes: Sweet, sweet relief for your ears and for the settlers' arms. It's not like they were doing anything except aggressively hitting buildings anyway.

[PS4] Restore Barney Rook mission Creator: Abates Notes: Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy is this such a paaaaaaaaain. C'mon, Barney, you've been here for how long and you're gonna die as soon as you since I'm within three miles? Dude.

Plenty 'O' Exploration - PS4 - New Interiors And Exteriors To Explore! BETA Creator: DangoSan Notes: Lots more story and many more locations to check out. Blends in well with the vanilla setting - to the point that looking at the list now, I'm surprised by how many of these locations I thought were just a part of the game to begin with!

Power Conduits Radius Increase And No Build Limit - All DLC [PS4] Creator: StormLord Notes: Settlements no longer end up 60% wiring, 40% building.

The Beantown Interiors Project [PS4] Creator: Chucksteel Notes: Love me some new places to explore. There were too many boarded-up buildings, anyway. This one even adds some to Far Harbor and Nuka-World!

Colzie's Place Doors Anywhere Mod Creator: Colzie Notes: Doors are nice. The Wikipedia page for walls says, "Doors are mobile walls on hinges which open to form a gateway." Which, I mean, I guess is true. I can't say it's wrong.

NSA No Settlement Attacks  (Base Game + DLC) PS4 Creator: Djulisa Notes: The only part of the vanilla game I actually dread. Settlement attacks never seemed to really care what your defense was at or where you were, but now you can escape that responsibility.

The Castle Revamp [PS4] Creator: FelloutIsLife Notes: Has that annoying problem where the debris sometimes respawns, but the fixes to the wall (and the free materials from scrapping that debris) are worth it.

[PS4] Luminus Workshop Lights Creator: ShanicTheOatMeme Notes: No more streetlamps that give off the light equivalent to that of a candle! Works and looks great with mods to change the brightness of nights.

Vault 88 - Restored Lighting - Rad Scanners - Turrets [PS4] Creator: StormLord Notes: The first area in the Vault looks crummy and is a pain to fix/work around...Until now. This mod fixes all that.

Immortal Cats - PS4 Creator: GenaTrius Notes: I really like cats. That's all I have to say about this one.

D.C. Glory Expansion Pack 1 Light [PS4] Creator: SlacksNawfside Notes: The Great Green Jewel sure as hell doesn't look like one...Until now. My poor system doesn't like the full version of this mod, but the Light one still looks lovely and makes it feel like a settlement worthy of the name.

TenPines Bluff Settlement Overhaul Ps4 Creator: Undernier Notes: Went here at too low a level. Gonna have to come back. The settlement itself still functions regardless but the nearby quest can be pretty dangerous. Look out for the minefield.

Power Line Physics [PS4] Creator: Cdante Notes: Because that's what a Bethesda game needs. More physics. (No, but really, it looks nice.)

Stumble Upon Interiors [PS4] Creator: Chiaro22 Notes: More things to explore? Yes, please. Some of these are actually really cool, and all of it blends in well with the vanilla game.

Consumables Overhaul - PS4 Creator: Aaronc53 Notes: Because food should matter, and cooking it should matter more. Works well with mods that decrease stimpak quantities.

No Build Limit - No DLC [PS4] Creator: StormLord Notes: Oh, no. This is here twice, sort of. Aw, shi-

Fizztop Grille Workshop - PS4 Creator: Mk221 Notes: Gage did say Colter had some peculiar taste, and I agree. I'm just gonna push everything off the top of the Fizztop and put in my own stuff.

Workshop Decorations Pack Creator: Astlem Notes: Probably one of my favorite mods ever. The bookshelves can have books, tables can come with clutter, desks look like they're in use...It's all so, so good.

Insignificant Object Remover Creator: AKcelsior Notes: Helps with frames, is generally comforting. Tucks you in at night and reads you a story.

[PS4] STS - Scrap that Settlement (Base Game) (+dlc addons) Creator: 3lric Notes: Doesn't let you scrap everything, but it sure lets you scrap a lot. There's this one makeshift structure on Spectacle Island that gets on my nerves, but I can't think of anything else I've had issues with since getting this mod.

UCO Base Game (core component of Unified Clothing Overhaul) (+season pass) Creator: ANDREWCX Notes: Very important. Very nice. Lets you upgrade, recolor, and wear armor in all kinds of ways.

DLC Ammo Leveled Lists Creator: Worlds Notes: Adds DLC ammo and weapons to other level lists, rearranges what drops when.

NPC Pipboys for PS4! Creator: Batta0909 Notes: Looks cool. That's about it.

(DLC) Companion Combat Overhaul Creator: Haighter Notes: A different mod that changes up perks for companions and actually makes them, you know, hit their targets. Their base clothing is also a little better. Also makes every other Courser a little harder thanks to the boost to the Courser Uniform X6 wears.

Superb Settlers [PS4] Creator: LilleMats90 Notes: Settlers actually show up with some gear, which makes sense since they're been getting by on their own 'til now.

NPCs are not Cartoons AIO  -vBy Drhamm [PS4] Creator: Drhamm Notes: Companions look a little less unsettling. Plus, why do these twenty-year-olds look forty? Radioactive problems or not, it's creeping me out.

PS4 Shut. Your. FACE. Creator: Random.Encounter Notes: Why does every NPC feel the need to yell at me?! I'm JUST TRYING TO LIVE MY LIFE.

[PS4] Dogs not Brahmin Creator: ANDREWCX Notes: No more Brahmin cornering you in settlements or spawning on your roof. Besides, the Commonwealth could use more dogs, right?

Equilibrium: Weapons (Balance Fixes) Creator: Alexananiev Notes: Pros: Your pipe pistols are no longer useless. Cons: Enemy pipe pistols are no longer useless.

M.C.O.R. - Main Character Outfit Redux Creator: Sargeschultz Notes: One time I accidentally scrapped Kellogg's Outfit and broke my own heart. Never again.

Buffed Minutemen Militia 2 [PS4 Version] Creator: Dragonovith Notes: If I'm gonna be the general, you can bet your ass I'm training and equipping you...Or this mod can do it for me. Squads summoned by the flare gun (I'm not sure I've ever done that?) also have a squad leader, which is a nice touch.

Companions In The Institute Creator: Ash1597 Notes: I get lonely, okay?

Companion Perks (PS4)-DrNewcenstein Creator: DrNewcenstein Notes: Gives companions lore/backstory-based perks, which is pretty cool.

Ranged Robotics Hack Creator: Djulisa Notes: Re-breaks this perk into the funniest thing to bring into the Mechanist questline ever. Make robots explode at a distance by aiming your gun at them, then hacking from however far you are. Beautiful. Simply beautiful.

More Map Markers - PS4 Creator: Mogomra Notes: Because it's nice to know where you're going - and where you've been.

Slower Respawn Rate Creator: Sway4829 Notes: I like feeling like I'm actually having an effect on the Commonwealth, like clearing out a location matters. This lets me pretend.

[PS4] Deliverer Mark2 Creator: Areis3020 Notes: I love Deliverer. I usually grab the Mark2 at ~level 60 or so and use the regular one until then.

1st Person Animation Tweaks [PS4] Creator: Thedust01 Notes: Mostly lets your character chill out when moving around instead of constantly pointing their gun at everything all of the time. Don't be so paranoid, Sole, it's not like everyone you've ever known is de-oh.

Vender Diversity Overhaul [PS4] Creator: Hroun Notes: Vendors should matter, right? Right.

NPC Loot Drop Rebalance [PS4] Creator: Hroun Notes: Fewer enemies carrying stimpaks, adds more variety and character to the various factions. Maybe this file won't end up with 200+ stimpaks (but it probably will)

No Legendary Items from Creatures [PS4] Creator: Hroun Notes: Why did that Mirelurk have a gun, anyway? It'd be cool if it was jutting out from one of its claws from someone it had killed before, or something, but no. It just has a gun. This fixes that.

Sanctuary Hills SP Rebuild [PS4] Creator: SpiritPixie Notes: C'mon, Codsworth, you've been cleaning for 200 years and this is what it looks like? No way.

Silent Stealth Field [PS4] Creator: AlpineYJ Notes: Bweeep. Bwooo. Bweep. Bwooo. Bweep. Bwooo. Every. Single. Time. You move. NO MORE.

Loyal Gage [PS4] Creator: Sway4829 Notes: I just wanna keep my trash friend, okay? I love Porter, but I also really love shooting the Nuka-World Raiders in the face. Or in the back, in this case.

Pipboy Light To Spotlight Creator: Ska00l Notes: Provides a bigger light than similar mods while still remaining more immersive than the vanilla light, which apparently turns you into a beacon or something.

[livingwithashipname-blog]

Ermanda’s Inner Sanctum: Scorpion 4.03 “Grow A Deer, A Female Deer”

I love this episode because it highlights poaching, which is an important environmental issue, and introduces the science behind an artificial womb, which is actually slated to become an opportunity for human fetus gestation.  Yet, I am concerned since this episode introduces many more small plots.  We have already seen small storylines fall through the cracks in this series or ideas are truncated onscreen due to time constraints.  So I hope the current plots and those to come fit together seamlessly for great character development and storytelling!  Ralph is finally back and has resumed his reign as King of Clapbacks!  I hope we get to see him assist the team more this season.  Patty Logan has also returned and remains as witty as ever!  Sly better get ready because she intends to keep him on his toes as Alderman of West Altadenia! 😂  Nikki Castillo does a great job in this role.  The whole episode comes together right at the end, delivering one of the most emotionally impactful and pleasant hit of the season so far.  I absolutely love it!  Let's break it down!!!

Cabe's Bail

I must admit that I understand Cabe’s reaction when he learns what the team sacrificed in order to make his $500,000 bail.  Whew!  Geez that's steep!  These geniuses already are not good with money.  We can thank Paige for keeping Scorpion financially afloat for the past 3 years!  Paige, Happy, and Sly contribute by sacrificing personal items, but Walter and Toby make riskier contributions that directly affect others in addition to themselves.  Walter places Scorpion as collateral which puts the entire team at risk if Cabe even accidentally violates any condition of his bail.  Understandably, he feels guilty for suggesting and pushing Cabe to uncuff Collins given the price for violating protocol, so he's trying to compensate for the damage.  However, this positions the team in a tight money spot which is made clear through Paige's rationale to book a job while Walter gets Cabe from prison.  Since Cabe is not an agent for Homeland Security, Scorpion's contract with the agency is also rescinded unless Homeland assigns a new agent to them.  So the bulk of their income has to come from jobs that might not pay as well as the US government.  They might even have to do atypical jobs like we have seen in previous seasons.  (Side note: I can just sense the return of Richard Elia in some way now that Scorpion is in a financial crisis.  We all know what that means for Walter!  How does Walter almost die this time? 👀😳😱😱😂😂😂😂)  While this is temporary discomfort for Paige, Happy, Sly, and Walter, I am very concerned about the affects of Toby's contribution.  This brings me to another installment of... 👇🏾

Toby, You Good?!

Here's why I am worried about Toby's monetary contribution which essentially is a loan/cash advance with 19% interest.  As far as we know, Toby still makes payments on past gambling debts.  He and Happy have almost maxed out their credit cards paying for a honeymoon in Santa Barbara that they didn't get the chance to enjoy.  Most places do not give refunds on last minute cancellations.  So how much money does he actually get from those cards?  Is it possible he called in a favor from an unknown source linked to his past for additional help?  The possibility indicated in the latter question is high.  Toby is the only character who hasn't received a focused character arc.  There already are a lot of plots in motion.  Major arcs are set for Cabe and Sly in season 4A.  Collins is still at large, which threatens the team.  The casting of Tina Majorino as a chemist who moves in next door to the team creates a possible side arc for Waige and the team that will likely exist for the entire season.  Plus, the writers have already stated that a Quintis baby is on the horizon.  It is possible that these elements setup an exploration of this character in season 4B.  I am still under the impression that Toby remains resilient and keeps his promise to Happy in a general sense.  However, these new developments suggest that this MIGHT be compromised because of everything he is facing (e.g., financial prep for fatherhood, unsteady work income, past debts).  Nonetheless, it will be exciting to explore how Toby copes.  I hope that all of these hints from last season until now work seamlessly with ones we are sure will be happening this season!

The Final Scene

This is my favorite scene of the season so far!  It has also become an all-time favorite! 🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾  We get all the Team Scorpion feels along with those felt individually for Sly, Quintis, Cabe, Waige, and Ralph.  Sly is affectionate towards the deer he saves, showing that he really is a big softie when it come to animals even though he's a germaphobe.  He also learns the meaning of politics through Patty who helps him achieve his Alderman goals.  Ralph continues his reign as the King of Clapbacks and expresses romantic interest in Patty, who I certainly consider Scorpion's Queen of Clapbacks.  If the team does not know her now, they will soon, especially Paige who is not too keen about Ralph growing up and having interests in girls! 😂  Paige reminds Walter that she is still his EQ coach even though they are a couple, leading into a sweet forehead kiss from Walter! 😍😍😍😍😍  Cabe apologizes to the team for his reluctance to their help and sets out to do the same with Allie.  Aww Callie feels!!! 💗💗💗  But the moment that moves me most is Happy's and, by extension, Quintis'.

Happy

The shots that capture Happy's intense stares in this series are so powerful because they are silent short films by themselves.  So much is communicated without words.  In this episode, it becomes quite clear that Happy is contemplating pregnancy and children.  This is a big deal considering everything we know about her life now.  Her mother died in childbirth.  Her father couldn't care for her with his grief-induced alcohol addiction and gave her up for adoption.  Before Scorpion, she was convinced that she could only depend on herself.  People consistently failed her.  Scorpion became her first family, but her secret marriage to Walter created friction.  In the midst of that, she was surprised by a false pregnancy that was actually a symptomatic result of heavy metal poisoning.  The experience made her realize how much she wanted a family of her own.

Now she has Toby as a husband who commits to her and follows through on that intent.  This support has given her an opportunity to consider possibilities before which she didn't/couldn't.  All of this is communicated throughout the episode in these moments:

Her suggestion to create an artificial womb 

Her appreciation for Paige's motherly instincts that rallied her to handle an uncomfortable situation 

Her glance at Paige and Ralph's embrace 

The look that shows a million wheels turning in her head about the mother-child bond.

The look and cheek kiss from Toby that tells us he is aware of her thoughts and will support her in whatever actions follow those thoughts

I am not sure if this is the writers' intent to show Toby & Happy discussing their future family plans as indicated by the press release for the episode.  Maybe they will have an actual discussion in the next episode and the statement is a typo meant for episode 4.04 Nuke Kids on the Block.  Yet, the lead up to this moment is really great.  It really sets the groundwork for a Quintis baby story that will be intriguing to say the least.  The writers have already teased the storyline since the summer and the idea has been floating around due to subtle foreshadowed hints since season 2.  I think this episode foreshadows what we could see in Toby and Happy's pursuit to parenthood.  Here are moments that provide great parallels:

The deer is physically pregnant.  Will Happy be pregnant as well? 

The fawn is in distress and is delivered early via c-section.  Will a pregnant Happy face labor complications as her mother or show worry about such outcomes if pregnant?

The fawn is female.  Will the first Quintis child be a girl?  Lord knows we need more women on Team Scorpion! 😂😂😜

Mother and fawn reunite.  Will we see Happy express emotion in a way we haven't in response to becoming a mother?

Let me end this section with a throwback to iconic dialogue from 3.07 We're Gonna Need a Bigger Vote for all the Quintis baby feels...

Happy: You know, when I was, uh, in elementary school, I was jealous of the other kids because their parents waited outside to take them home, and I walked to the orphanage by myself. I was looking forward to waiting outside for somebody. (sniffles)

Toby: Hey, come here, listen to me. We love each other. We're gonna have a family. You're gonna wait outside a school and you're gonna build a crib and you're gonna share tools with whatever baby is lucky enough to have you as their mom. It'll happen when the time is right. It is gonna happen.

Drabbles...

Patty and Sly's banter is priceless! 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Cabe just tells Allie about his problems and doesn't give her anything else or tell the team?!  No bueno, Cabe! 😒👎🏾👎🏾🙅🏾

Walter: (sarcastic) That's great. Fantastic. (to Cabe) A pre-pubescent public defender... 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂💀💀💀

Aww!  The team rallies to spring Papa Cabe from jail! 💗💗💗  But he argues over the help... 👀

Constance Ejuma is so beautiful!  Love her already! 😍😍😍😍

Cabe: Best way to nail an organized crime unit is to cut out the middle man. Eliminate distribution. The organization is left topless and bottomless.  Toby: Like certain clubs near the airport.  😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂💀💀💀

Walter starting to sound like Cabe while wearing his glasses... 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂💀💀💀

The way Paige rallies the team to make an artificial womb... 👏🏾👏🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾

Paige: Walter, if you ever want to see me naked again, you figure this out!  W: You heard her, team. Let's save these deer! 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂💀💀  

I am still wondering how they managed to get cassava root where they are located.  I am guessing this is the writers' way of introducing the plant's various uses once again which was first introduced in 3.24 Maroon 8.

Walter Gallo... 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂💀

Sly dropping the gun out of the jeep is a parallel to Walter doing the same in the middle of the pursuit in episode 2.17 Adaptation.

I know the poachers are the bad guys, but I am so turned on by all of these hot black men!  Oh lordt, send help! 😍😍😍😍😍😍😂😂😂😂😂😂

Ha!  Toby's linguistic experiment seems to be working a little bit because Happy says "gooty." 😂😂😂😂😂

This banter in the garage is HILARIOUS!!!  The lawyer is a dork, Patty dropping truth while making herself at home, Allie's argument with Cabe, and everyone playing "Who is that?" with Patty... 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂💀  MY ABS HURT!!!

Cabe is totally dumbfounded to think he sounds like person Walter is emulating during this mission. 😂😂😂😂😂

Hand sanitizer as conducting gel? 👍🏾 But that must sting hard considering that hand sanitizer is less viscous than conducting jelly.  Shocking the animal 5 times without adjustment to the machine or adding more hand sanitizer? 👀👎🏾  And an faulty stocked crash cart, whether it is used consistently or not, is grounds for termination in some cases.  No bueno to whomever is in charge of inventory! 🙅🏾

Aww! Sly is channeling his childhood feelings about Boscoe for Jane the deer. 💗💗💗💗💗💗

Hold up.  A shootout ensues between the poachers and animal sanctuary guards and not one person get nicked?! Lamesauce.

P (to Ralph): Just watch the deer, dear. 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂💀