#i coulda been a human highlighter :(

[aeide-thea]

ugh it was probably correct that i didn't buy the neon merino thing i wanted to buy, bc even though it was briefly on significant sale i didn't actually need it and also it would probably have been too long for short vizier yrs truly, but like. regerts [sic] :(

[silvertsundere]

Silver Talks AniManga (03/09/23)

there's a jump serialization round coming up soonish with 3 new series so there's gonna be a few ending in the next couple weeks, starting today with fabricant, and then tenmaku and do retry in back to back weeks. wish it was ichinose instead of tenmaku but oh well

blue - finale/completed

Anime

Pokemon Horizons Ep20

didn't like this episode at all. I was excited for horizons since ash FINALLY got retired and we were getting a female protagonist. when I saw roy I was worried riko would start getting pushed to the sidelines in favour of him, since he's just ash 2, and this episode was a lot of that. they had a contest between riko and roy and riko was winning easily, until plot armor had to come in and hand roy the victory, she could've won but hesitated seeing roy being so into it. and then they battle kabu and a gym trainer, only for riko to throw the match she coulda easily won, against the trainer since she needed to win it. and then we had all these lines from kabu telling her "hey maybe you could do something else you don't need to do battles just cause you're a trainer" it's just like I said months ago. it's just extremely lame and cowardly but I guess I expected too much from the pokemon anime

Atelier Ryza Ep10

last week I said they may have been deviating from the game but they're back on track in this one. tho the game still didn't have lila and empel going into the woods, unless I completely missed that when I was looking at the playthrough last week. anyway, lots of cute ryza faces in this ep so that was good. considering where we are, and where the anime is gonna end, I wouldn't be too surprised if they announced another season for like summer or fall next year, to cover the rest of the game, but we'll see

Zom 100 Ep6

nice ep, idk if it'll happen but I hope akira kills the boss guy next episode would be a nice point to stop before the recap on the following week

Manga

Fabricant 100 Ch36 (Finale)

it's finally over. tbh I kinda forgot it was gonna end this week but it did. honestly shoulda given it a 4 like alien's area but it got to run a bit longer and approach the topics it wanted to cover more so I gave it a lil bump. just like the score says it was just alright. it clumsily tried to ask the question of "what is an ideal human" or "what is it to be a human" in general and came to it's own answer

the art wasn't bad but also nothing to write home about, the characters weren't that likeable or interesting for the most part and when the threat of cancellation started looming the story felt very rushed, not like it was much better before that when it was just "monster of the week". anyway it wasn't bad overall, unlike ichinose I didn't mind reading this every week and wouldn't mind seeing the author come back again in the future

Blooming Love Ch12

cute chap, it's funny seeing the mcs' friends conspiring together to look out for them and ending up going on the same date as them (even if they haven't realized it yet), expecting them to become a slow burn b romance plot but also wouldn't be that surprised if they just stayed as comedic relief like this til the end

Dandadan Ch119

the big battle is finally over so we get the good ol big feast celebration to break up the tension. it was also cute seeing the romantic tension between okarun and momo from that note she left him back in the training arc. also my guess is that the cliffhanger is just gonna be to wrap up the storyline for that youkai and she's gonna leave momo alone so we can continue the story without any loose threads

Tenmaku Cinema Ch20

as expected, the movie's good but it has a lot of issues since it's an amateur production, but it's still nice to see hajime's (and the author's) love of movies recognized. it's a shame that it didn't last longer on the jump battlefield but oh well. looking forward to the finale next week

Akane-banashi Ch76

good chap, highlighting how much akane's grown over the series and her peer's opinions of her, it sucks for my man here to come to this realization but it had been a long time coming

[theender36]

Journal entry, May 12, 2073.

Kyle and I were on the way to work through the East Wastefield. I know they say it's a hazard but it cuts a good half hour off the commute and we'd never had any problems with it before. Although today we had a close call.

There was an old Jeep raced past us with a couple bots riding out for a hunt (I know it's not "politically correct" to call 'em that but Kyle's sister-in-law had to get a Cybernet cranial upgrade and she said it's ok). I guess they were just as surprised to see us 'cause they whipped around and came to a stop next to some petrified trees.

The one in the passenger seat jumped out first and stormed over to us. They started yelling and cussing at us, you know, "The hell you fleshies doing out here?! We coulda hit you! Or worse, we coulda marked this place and not even realized you were here!" That last one really got Kyle spooked. "We didn't know y'all were marking this early in the year!" Now that I guess was the wrong thing to say 'cause the other bot ran over and got SUPER pissed. "We been putting up the signs everywhere! You fleshies don't check the boards by the gate?" Honestly, we probably did but we got so used to ignoring 'em we just went on by.

Anyway, we told 'em we wouldn't be long, we were just passing through to get to work. They "offered" to escort us out of there. We didn't mind, the East Wastefield still has some pretty swampy areas and I ruined my good work boots in one of the wetter areas. We hopped in the back row in the Jeep and they took off. We didn't really talk with 'em that much.

We were only five minutes from the edge of the field when the driver just totally stopped. The other bot looked like they were going to say something but their faceplate rotated and looked where the driver was looking and they shut up. I coulda sworn I saw them sweat.

The driver looked back nervously at the passenger and slowly said "Y-5? There's a target over in that bush. I'm gonna smoke it and highlight this sector as top priority." Then they looked back at us. "Fleshies? You hand me the gun you're sitting on." We hadn't noticed it. We just thought the seats were hard. It was one of them long box-shaped guns, with a lock-port where the grip would be on a human gun. We handed it to them and they slid it over their fist. I never actually seen one of those babies active but Lord, it lit up all over like Christmas.

They climbed out of the Jeep and brought the gun up to aim. I may not be the biggest fan of bots, but if any cranky old grump tells you they ain't alive, remember I saw this one shaking, scared to Hell of their target in that brush.

Then it made a sound.

The bot fired wildly as they turned around and sped back into the vehicle. They didn't even take the gun off their hand, they just grabbed the wheel with the other one and punched it.

When the bots dropped us off at the gate, they were in a hurry to dump us and get out of there. Before they left though, I looked back at 'em. "You know," I said, "I'm not sure anyone's ever told me why you droids are scared by those things. Why do you hate 'em so much?"

The driver started at me a moment then said, "You ever go swimming, boy?" It was a dumb question, but I nodded. They kept talking. "But you wouldn't one day decide to spend your whole life doing it would you?" I shook my head. "Well," they said, "those things in there are born and they go around like fish, swimmin' around and all that. But then one day, they decide to just. Leave the water. And there ain't nothing stoppin' 'em." They raised their arm with the gun still attached to it. "Nothing but us." They turned away without so much as a goodbye and went back into the Wastefield.

Kyle tapped my shoulder. "Hey, I haven't seen one of those things in a long time. You get a video of it?" I hadn't. Kyle held up his phone. "Then it's a good thing I got one." He sent it to me.

After work we took the long way home. If the Wastefield was marked, it wouldn't be long before a Pest tank rolled in there.

I've been spending all evening watching that video and I been thinking about it over and over and I think I finally got it. Change. The bots are afraid of something's ability to change its nature. To be one thing and totally change how it operates, how it lives. Bots can change their minds and make decisions but they can't figure how something can completely transform itself. And I keep thinking about how we were when the first living machines started coming out of the factory. We hated them because they were a change.

I guess what I'm getting at is, maybe nature wants to show us something. Maybe we need to learn how to accept change. And maybe the best way to do that is by looking at a frog.

When robots became sentient, we expected them to attack humans. We were completely surprised by their actual target

[ae0nx]

FRUITS BASKET S2 EPISODE 18 + short Ep 1-17 english dub recap

AND I'M BACK WITH THE MADNESS.

Took a bit of a break from the Fruits Basket recaps because life happened and I wanted to focus a bit more on my art career and my webcomic. But, I came to miss doing the recaps! So, I'm gonna try and finish season 2 and do some of the left over recaps now in time for when Season 3 drops!

I HAVE however been re-watching the older episodes of Fruits Basket Season 2 with the english dub this time and I have a few notes!:

A shoutout to the wording used in the Yuki 'confession' scene on the beach with Tohru. However, in the sub the confession came across a lot more like platonic love to me and in the dub the confession came across a lot more romantic. (Especially in the episode after where Yuki says he doesn't regret kissing Tohru lol)

Laura Bailey stays killing it as Tohru. All the little vocal inflections are so freakin cute and make her sound more human! But that also speaks to the editing as well which is great. The balance between a little naive and scared and yet strong and determined in her scene with Akito was... amazing.

(Also... all of Akito’s most violent and hurtful moments are when it’s dark... I dunno I just found that cool and interesting lol)

Jerry Jewell in EPISODE 9?!?! His scene with Akito always gets me regardless but Jerry Jewell's performance was heartbreaking! Ah, I could cry. (I did) The little shake he did while declaring he wasn't in love with Tohru because he can't say that shit actually truthfully? 😩 Also... is he intentionally making Kyo’s voice sound a little deeper? It definitely sounded like it in that episode with Kagura. I like!!

While I LOATHE Akito, Colleen Clinkenbeard is amazing, I've never heard her sound this sneakingly evil! And yet... it's slightly carefree too. Reminds me a lot of Shigure. As I said before, Akito and Shigure's english VAs pair up so nicely in audible form.

I love how flirty Hatori was in the English dub when it came to him and Mayu’s episode. It was a really lovely performance from Kent Williams :) I always read that scene of Hatori just being friendly when asking Mayu out to get something to eat but this was a whole other wonderful take!!! <3

I LOVE KIMI TODO’S ENGLISH VA’S PERFORMANCE OMG. THANK YOU, CHERAMAI LEIGH 🤣

Kakeru’s English VA continues to sound cuter and cuter... 😘 Whassup, Aaron Dimsuke? I kid, lol

I lovee the fact that Haru calls Yuki ‘fragile and kind’ (two typically feminine presenting descriptions) and Yuki took it as a compliment! I dunno about the description of fragile as many people could take that offensively, regardless of gender, but the way it’s explained here it’s almost like he’s describing him as precious?... Coulda went with that instead...

I like the decisions for the moments where Mikaela Krantz emphasises on Momiji’s put on German accent and when she tones it down and return to his natural voice

But anyways... lol, this episode was... a LOT. Not an easy breezy one for me to come back to at all... I’ll be watching the english dub.

TIME TO DIVE BACK IN!

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

- Hiro's so cute at the start of this episode talking about his sibling and how he wants to look out for his mum. Of course, it's in the most Hiro of ways but this scene definitely warmed me up to him a lot more :)

Hiro’s mum is like a future Tohru, haha

That hair animation they give Rin is always great 😂 I hope Takaya-sensei is proud.

It’s so curious how Hiro speaks so honestly and true to Rin yet is so careful of her emotions. He’s never really been like this with anyone but Kisa, especially not the other teens or adults. It kinda shows how much seeing what happened to Rin by Akito’s hands really got to him and traumatised him. Of course, Hiro’s not just doing this because of his trauma but cos he genuinely cares!

- I noticed that there was a slight parallel between Hiro + Kisa and Rin + Haru. Kinda highlights why breaking the curse is important to Hiro and gives more reason as to why that event with Rin and Akito freaked him out.

- I dunno if this is intentional or just an animation glitch but I’ve noticed that in that long panning shot in the opening theme that closes into Yuki, Tohru and Kyo looking at the sunset, it looks like Kyo’s experession kinda ‘glitches’ in between a smile and a stoic look. Again, I don’t know if it was intentional, but I like to think it’s as a little show of Kyo not really managing to attain true happiness fully (for now anyway).

- (Also, I think that this opening song might come third in my list of most favourite opening songs in Fruits Basket history!!! <3<3<3)

- I’m super glad that Shigure and Rin scene didn’t go any further than it needed to... 👀 but the fact that Rin thought ‘Gure would be up for using her body as a bargaining chip says more about Shigure than Rin in my humble opinion...

Self-loathing? From Shigure? Unexpected. Empathy? For him? A little.

...Damn it.

🤣

I’m sorry. This scene is very gorgeous, well lit and beautiful and dramatic. But, I can’t not laugh at how early 00s gothic romance this is! But, I love it. It’s sweet and probably the first ‘raunchy’ scene we’ve gotten in this anime, ooo la! But, that kiss animation was kinda awkward for me, sorry. 🤷🏾‍♀️

I hate that Rin is AGAIN getting Outfit Appreciation Award when she’s literally killing herself with stress and worry but... amazing wardrobe as always. 5 stars.

Is it just me or does every zodiac member see Tohru as a parental figure or associate her with motherhood, except for Kyo?... 

*mentally notes essay of Tohru being the depiction of being a ‘merciful God’ compared to Akito being the decpiction of being a ‘vengeful God’*

Heartbreaking. 

but... WHY DO THEY ALL HAVE TO HAVE PARENTAL ISSUES?!

Also, Briana Palencia in this scene was amazing. Everyone is so, so good in this show! Dub and sub!!

...I totally forgot about this bit of Rin’s backstory. I love that they really highlighted how drastic the change was from happy family to an abusive household. Obviously, there must have been some cracks in the frame of the happy family and Rin as a child was inquisitive enough to see them. ...Only for her to be later punished for it. 

Kazuma!!! He and Tohru just be constantly saving these zodiac kids, man.

- Rin’s parents might just be at the same level as Kyo’s dad on the ‘WORST PARENTS OF THE ZODIAC CHILDREN’ list. Well... until later...

🥺💝

Beginning to understand why they’re so attached and bonded to each other now. <3

- Also, lowkey, Kagura’s mum is great! From her protecting Kagura from going to the beach house because of Akito to her taking Rin in without question! And she seemed completely cool with Kyo too! Yay to good parents in anime!!!

- The confession scene between Haru and Rin is so pure and blunt yet romantic and just... so them <3

- I’m not even gonna put any screencaps from the final scene with Akito because I find Akito is just disgusting. But, really? Pushing someone off the balcony?! I mean... I remember why Akito’s feelings for Rin are so strong and darkly intense but I still can’t excuse their actions. I kinda don’t like that they presented this very abusive and violent moment as... poetic? I mean, it matches Rin’s ‘style’, I guess? But... this is just someone going past the limit.

- And her landing like that on the conveniently pointy stone? I was surprised she didn’t damage her spine...

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

I’m so happy I’m watching Fruits Basket again! This anime really is the best! And it DESERVEDLY won Best Drama at the CrunchyRoll Anime Awards! Yayyyyy! Sorry, if this ended on a weird note, I did enjoy this episode. Just a very dark one to return to 😅

See you... soon? Haha!

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Danny Phantom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dash Baxter/Danny Fenton, Jack Fenton/Maddie Fenton Characters: Dash Baxter, Wesley Weston, OC - Character, Danny Fenton, Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, Ghost Writer (Danny Phantom), Andrew Riter Additional Tags: Soulmates, Reluctant Soulmates, countless headcanons, Not Phantom Planet Compliant, my canon now, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Identity Reveal, will tag with progress, No Betas we die like fools Summary:

Casper High is a school that has several clubs, including the Occult Club, which Dash should've stayed very far away from no matter what Wes said. Now thanks to the conspiracy theorist, Phantom was pissed at him and the jock and hero were soulbound by a spell that Wes had fudged and Dash had mispronounced. How's he gonna make it up to his hero?

Or

The soulmates fic that only my best bro really wanted out of me, which my brain was forced to provide.

Ao3 / Fanfiction.net

In hindsight, Dash should've stayed away from the occult club altogether.  Sure, Wes had said they were gonna use some magick ritual they'd figured out to summon phantom, but people generally wanted to think they could do that and a club at school was the least likely to succeed.   But Weston had been confident and Dash wasn't gonna pass on an opportunity to meet his hero without an attack happening.

So he'd gone along with it, even demanded to be the one to do it when they started.  There was a chalk circle on the floor, candles, and one of em had a fuckin needle to prick themself with for it.  Whatever, Dash wasn't unused to a little pain - he busted his knuckles on nerd's faces sometimes. So he got a drop on the circle, and he said the chant, and the candles turned green instead of reddish-yellow.  But while the room went dark and cold and started looking like the night sky had come down to grab them, Dash may have fucked up a word in the book.  

There he appeared, in a flash of light so bright Dash had to squint.  Sky blue skin, a halo of white hair, freckles that glowed green and that ghost hunting hazmat suit of his.  While Phantom was looking around like he was dizzy, Dash felt something. He Saw it, even, a line of bright silver that came out of his chest and turned toxic green before ending at the DP on Phantom's chest.  Frowning, Dash looked over at the head of the club. "The fuck is this? A cord?"

"Oh no… oh no no no."  The head nerd, a brunette with glasses and a mint green shirt, grabbed the book in Dash's hand and read what he'd said.  Then his head whipped over to Wes and the basketballer backed up, his camera flashing the recording light. "You fucked up the summoning ritual!"

"Austin, I swear I was just-"

"This is a binding ritual, Wes, it binds the spirit to the target object - the circle, it looks like?"

"Pretty shitty binding," Phantom said, turning everyone's attention back to him.  The blue-faced ghost was floating all around the room, soft green inner light casting weird shadows everywhere.   "I'm nowhere near it. What is this thing between me and Dash though?"

"… Fuck."  Wes quickly played back his recording on his camera to listen to what Dash had chanted.  Dash could hear the moment he fumbled the words and Wes paled when he heard it. "That was the wrong subject word-"

"So you've bound Phantom's soul to Dash's soul now, is what I'm translating here.   Cause that, wait lemme.” Austin grabbed the camera and replayed the video a few times while Dash dealt with a sea of complicated emotions.  Confusion, shock, anger, resentment, anxiety. Those last three weren’t new per se but they felt… off. Not his. “Wes this is a permanent binding what the fuck?!”

“It wouldn’t’ve been permanent!  We coulda scuffed the circle and the thing he’s bound to would be gone!”

Phantom reached down and grabbed the ginger by his shirt, lifting him two feet off the ground.   His eyes were blue and gold and red, that dim green aura was now white and yellow and flaring up in arcs.  “So lemme get this straight, Wesley. In your insane attempts to prove me as the still-living son of ghost hunters, you decided you'd bind me to a chalk circle.  Which might bind me to the chalk itself, tearing me apart to keep myself connected to since you're a fucking hack."

"I-I-I hadn't uh thought of that, b-"

"And instead of that you let Dash, a jo- no THE Jock, read off the spell and so now you've bound me, irreversibly, to another person's soul.  Did I get that right?"

Wes nodded the slightest bit, his entire frame shaking and Dash couldn't blame him.   Dash was entirely up for pummeling Wes for fucking up his hairbrained scheme, but Phantom looked like he was about to rip Wes apart.  He had fangs and his hair was turning into a cloud of fire that sucked all the heat out of the room instead of pushing it out into everything.  Wes' shirt was frosting over and Austin and his band of merry freaks were shivering.

"When you get to the afterlife, Wes, I promise you a world of pain.  And if you do something so fucking stupid and dangerous that it risks my safety and the safety of everyone else around you again, I'm tossing you to the police by your Fucking underwear!"  Wes was dropped on his ass and Phantom growled, fading from sight. There was a Pop, all the pressure in the room shifting, and Dash rubbed his head with a groan.

"Wes you fucking idiot!  Now Phantom is pissed at me and it's your fault!"  Phantom may have decided not to give Wes what he had coming to him, Dash didn't have superpowers to worry about getting out of hand.

And so Dash had detention that day for wailing on a fellow school athlete.

“I swear I’m going to shatter his camera into a million tiny pieces and make him eat them,”  Danny growled and struggled with not breaking his locker when he slammed it shut. The lights overhead buzzed louder and shone brighter from the energy pouring out of him, and Danny took several deep breaths.  “Not only was what he wanted to do stupid and dangerous, now I’m fucking - what, Soulmates? With him?”

“Chill, Danny, I’m sure we can fix this.”  Tucker pulled his sash from around his shirt and with a flick, it became a scepter once more.  Holding out the golden rod over Danny, a look of concentration passed over the geek’s face while azure light bathed Danny’s body.  The green thread leading off toward Dash was highlighted, though the silver threads leading to Tucker, Sam and Jazz were also visible and even the blue ones trailing off to his Mom and Dad.  Tucker’s magick wrapped around his green thread and for a moment, Danny was sure that it’d be cut and all of this would be over and dealt with.

Tucker’s scepter was knocked out of his hand and clattered loudly on the tile floor of the school and the green thread shone brighter than before, seeming to have simply soaked up the magick.  Danny’s growl was deep in his chest this time, and one of the lights blew a fuse. “That’s fucking ridiculous! He just read off the spell without even knowing what it did, why would that be stronger than the Pharoah’s command?”

“The language might not be from this world, Danny.  We’ll have to ask Andrew if he knows how to undo it.”  Sam patted Danny on his shoulder and he leaned onto her, embracing the calm of her aura.  The bell rang and Danny pulled his hood over his head, pulling it shut over his face with the drawstrings.  “C’ mon, let’s get you home and we can head over to see him right now.”

Danny grumbled as he was pulled along by Sam and Tucker outside to the parking lot, where all three of them pulled out their hoverboards.  Danny mounted his star and nebulae covered creation and slipped on his helmet. The one he’d made for Tucker was gold and chrome-colored, a techno styled F on the bottom of it, while Sam’s was black with creeping vines appearing to weave all around it.  It had been fun building these boards with Tucker and personalizing them since they made flying to school easier on them all. Magnetic boots locked in place, Danny slipped on the remote control glove and took off, followed closely by his friends into the even sky to the envious stares of their schoolmates.

The only ghosts that got in their way home were Skulker and the Box Ghost, and while Boxy was easy to take down with a few well-placed shots, Danny had to split off a Phantom copy while still in human form to take down Skulker, which sucked because he didn’t have the energy to make one as strong as he normally was in ghost form.  With a kick to Skulker’s head that removed his helmet, and a swift click of the button on the Thermos, Skulker was dealt with and they headed to Fenton works.

Descending the stairs of the Fenton home to the basement lab and finding it empty was a blessing, mostly available due to Sam and her meddling in the business affairs of Fenton Works.  Getting to the Ghost Writer’s library from there was a cakewalk, and soon they were knocking on his doors.

“Andy, I have a problem and I need your help fixing it!”  Getting no reply for a moment, Danny took a deep superfluous breath and whined loudly against the door.  “Aaandyyyyy!” The door opened inward fast enough that Danny hit the floor, and grumbled something rude about Vidya playing cruel pranks on him.

“Don’t pretend that Vidya doesn’t love you about as much as she does me, Danny, you’ll never get away with a lie that flimsy.”  The baritone laughter of the Ghost Writer, otherwise known to a few as Andrew Riter, met Danny’s ears and a shark-toothed smile greeted Sam and Tucker.  The librarian in grey and purple invited them deeper in to sit on couches and cushions scattered about the shelves of the library and cups of coffee and tea set themselves down on the table before them.  “Alright, what trouble have you gotten yourselves into this time?”

“This time it wasn’t one of us, actually.”  Sam nudged Danny with her boot and he slumped against Tucker, taking a long sip of his tea.  “An idiot, Wes, tried to bind him to a circle during an event that the Occult Club was performing to summon Danny, but they let Dash Baxter read it and when Danny appeared, apparently Dash stuttered the wrong words and now he and Danny are bound by the soul.  As far as we know.”

Andrew adjusted his glasses, eyes narrowed at Danny as a trio of books flew to him and Danny repeated the spell for Andrew to decipher.  “Give me a couple of days to look this one up. Artificially created Soul Bonds like that typically break with the right spell and if both parties agree to sever the link.”  Tucker groaned while Danny buried his face in his hands.

“I have to convince Dash to unlink himself with me?  Wonderful. Fuck me, I guess.”

Tucker patted the ghost boy on his shoulder and Danny whined.

Ao3 / Fanfiction.net

[pass-the-bechdel]

Marvel Cinematic Universe: Black Panther (2018)

Does it pass the Bechdel Test?

Yes, nine times.

How many female characters (with names and lines) are there?

Six (40% of cast).

How many male characters (with names and lines) are there?

Nine.

Positive Content Rating:

Three (though it’s worth reminding that this rating is based on the positivity of the content in relation to the female characters, not in general - there’s some real top-shelf content in here, otherwise. Still a very happy three for the ladies anyway, for that matter).

General Film Quality:

High-end. The commitment to nuanced storytelling is impeccable, grappling with all angles of a complex hypothetical far better than could have been anticipated. This is a movie which never loses sight of its own importance, while also never getting too bogged down in it to be entertaining. Earns every ounce of the hype.

MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) UNDER THE CUT:

Passing the Bechdel:

Nakia gives her condolences to the Queen Mother. The Queen chastises Shuri. Nakia compliments Okoye’s wig. Nakia negotiates entrance to the club with Sophia. Nakia and Okoye conflict over loyalties. Nakia passes with the Queen Mother after Killmonger takes over, twice. Shuri and Nakia go into battle. They pass together later.

Female characters:

Okoye.

Nakia.

The Queen Mother (technically not a name, but I’m allowing it as a title).

Shuri.

Sophia.

Ayo.

Male characters:

Erik ‘Killmoger’ Stevens/N’Jadaka.

N’Jobu.

Zuri.

T’Chaka.

T’Challa.

Ulysses Klaue.

M’Baku.

W’Kabi.

Everett Ross.

OTHER NOTES:

I’m not sure if T’Challa ruining Nakia’s anti-HUMAN TRAFFICKING mission because he wants her around for emotional support is a very endearing intro for his character in this film...I mean, sure, they rescue the people in the convoy, but presumably there was more to the mission (otherwise Nakia wouldn’t complain that it was ruined), and T’Challa prioritises his feelings over both Nakia’s work, and the lives of all the people it effects. Coulda avoided the negative implications there with just a little fine-tuning in the dialogue.

“Nah, I’m just feelin’ it.” Michael B Jordan has such a great energy about him; he’s very, very convincing, in a role which could have broken the film if it were poorly cast.

But you know what? I fucking LOVE M’Baku, he’s my personal fave for the movie. That presence. This is an excruciatingly well-cast film (among other virtues).

I’m Hella into that Lion King vibe when communing with the spirit realm, too.

Erik shoots his unnamed girlfriend for nothing more than the drama of it, and that is not one of this film’s virtues.

Shuri calling Ross ‘coloniser’ is just...so good. There’s a lot about this film that is a reclamation, in big and obvious in-text ways, but there are also these kinds of little impactful choices which contextualise Wakanda’s relationship to the world and its history, and that kind of detailing is the difference between posturing, and playing for real.

The music in this movie? Also great. Traditional African and modern African-American, representing the interweave of themes and ideologies in-story? Fucking gold. They did not skimp on details in putting this movie together with intelligent design, and I am Hella into it.

M’Baku just fucking BARKING at Ross when he dares speak before him is the highlight of the whole film. It’s perfect. 

A friend of mine has suggested that there must be a missing scene or two in this movie, wherein the Queen Mother convinces M’Baku to go into battle after all, since as-is he just kinda...changes his mind off-screen and she serves no narrative purpose at all. It’s unfortunate such a linking scene is missing, as it would have significantly enhanced both characters and helped to emotionally underpin the final act of the film, which is comparatively weak. 

But anyway, M’Baku is my best dude in this movie. I love a huge man in a grass skirt.

The whole idea that W’Kabi and Okoye have a relationship at all is kinda nonexistent; we wouldn’t know about it at all if she hadn’t called him ‘my love’ that one time. Coulda beefed that up better, i.e. at all.

“Bury me in the ocean, with my ancestors that jumped from the ships, because they knew that death was better than bondage.” Michael B Jordan delivered every aspect of this character with such raw power and sincerity, y’all. He hits it straight home.

It goes without saying that there was a lot of pressure for this film to be good: a big-budget superhero action movie, part of the most lucrative cinema franchise in the world right now, taking on an afro-futuristic setting with an almost exclusively black cast? The potential for Black Panther to come off as little more than lip service paid to representation, ‘too PC’, lacking the guts to acknowledge the breadth of the racism that inevitably informs it, perhaps even falling dangerously toward racist cliches of its own...there is no other film of its kind, and as such, Black Panther could not escape being judged as more than an individual story on its own, as a representation of an entire continent’s worth of people and culture and what they could bring to an industry which has made an aggressive point of shutting them out in the past. The pressure was well and truly on to provide not only financial success put also critical acclaim, and boy oh boy, did they rise to the occasion or what?

The centrepiece of Black Panther’s success is Michael B Jordan as Erik Killmonger, striking a precise balance between the heat of well-deserved fury, and the chilling calculation of his revenge. Killmonger’s rhetoric is compelling, and it is the meeting point of the film’s threads, of Wakandan tradition, of the country’s privilege in the midst of colonial oppression and the dire morality of its secrecy, of the call of the wider world and the determining of one’s place within it. It’s vitally important that Killmonger makes sense, right up until he doesn’t - a good villain should always feel like someone you could almost follow, if only they weren’t taking things that one step too far - narratively, this is in an important pitch, but it’s also vital for the context of the viewing audience, the acknowledgement and the validation of that rage at injustice (without which, the film would come off as pandering to white guilt), but without the promotion of violent eye-for-an-eye solutions. Killmonger’s anger is never condemned, only the actions he perpetrates in the name of that anger; the viewer is forced to acknowledge the reality that made Killmonger what he is, but without being encouraged to forgive; only to understand.

I am hardly the first to observe that it is Nakia, not T’Challa, who represents the foil to Killmonger’s ideology, recognising and stirring to action at the injustice’s wrought upon the African people, but seeing in Wakanda the potential to offer unprecedented assistance rather than the opportunity for the oppressed to become the oppressor. The film is populated with character counter-balances, and it validates each perspective (while also illuminating shortcomings) to enhance the overall narrative, rather than equivocating too strenuously to make any point; Nakia values people like Okoye values her country, and while Nakia is right that blind patriotism fails the country if it allows tyranny, the strength of Okoye’s conviction is exactly what inspires the loyalty of those who follow her in the protection of Wakandan values; while Shuri ‘scoffs at tradition’ and leans entirely on the unending machine of technological progress, M’Baku and his people are safeguarding traditional practices and keeping ancient knowledge alive, which saves T’Challa when there’s no tech around - by the same token, without the protective blanket of technological progress, the Jabari would not be free to live as they do. There is good sense in the perspective which every character brings, and all of them are required in symbiosis to achieve a full picture of cultural identity. 

In that broad conversation of identity and place in the world, if there’s one weak link, it’s the Black Panther himself, T’Challa. Not that he’s a weak character or that Chadwick Boseman is a weak actor - it’s just that he’s being thoroughly outplayed by all around him. It’s a good thing in regards to how well-cast the movie is and how it fleshes out its supporting players (in spite of the missing pieces pointed out in the notes above); in an overall-lesser film, the lead being the least compelling character - and especially with such a powerfully-constructed antagonist opposite him - could be a crippling flaw, but as-is Black Panther is pulling out enough stops to get away with having an under-sold Black Panther at its head. That, really, is a testament to the power of the story, and the work being done by everyone involved to tell the tale with tact, with dynamism, with all the colour and flavour the white-washed film industry has been denying all this time. We could talk about its flaws, sure, but there doesn’t seem to be much point - none of them are fatal, none are even particularly egregious, and the achievements of the movie far outweigh any quality blips along the way. Black Panther is a measured, sensitive triumph, and there’s a part of me that - in the best of ways - almost forgets that I’m watching a Marvel movie, a cash-grab - sure, they want to make money out of it, but this feels above all like a passion project. Passion like this, so fully-realised, I am not inclined to fault.

[mylittleredgirl]

Today’s Abridged Thoughts On Season One: “Poisoning The Well”

This episode is intense and heartbreaking and I love it because it goes so fucking hard at the reality of life in Pegasus. 

Highlights:

Perna is a forever fave guest character. She’s brilliant and relentless and an utter fanatic and I love, love, love that her conviction is never shaken, even as she’s dying painfully as a result of her own serum. She’s like a cross between Marie Curie and Joan of Arc.

Honestly, all the Hoffans we meet are great characters and they’re one of my fave Pegasus cultures we meet (an industrialized Pegasus society with callbacks to the UK during the Blitz is so SMART). Their culture is preserved through mass sacrifice, and it’s so baked into them that no Hoffan would ever consider not lighting themselves on fire to light the way for the next generation -- and the Earth humans just cannot get their heads around it. 

The Space Library of Alexandria!!!! 

Doctor McCoy is “The TV character Doctor Beckett plays in real life.”

Love both that Elizabeth calls back to the Geneva Convention and then discards it two minutes later. Coulda been a System Lord.

Lowlights:

Could you fuckers be ANY MORE condescending to the Hoffans at the beginning of the episode I mean come on. I think it bothers me so much more in Atlantis rather than SG-1 because SG-1 is so clearly set in the present day, but the fancy Atlantis sets and props makes me feel like everyone should be Trek Evolved instead of mired in Americentric colonialist bullshit, you know?

Everyone ogling Perna the second she shows up is gross. The men of Atlantis are NOT earning my love at the beginning of this episode, but I have to laugh at the brief pause before Sheppard introduces Ford like his brain has stalled and he can’t remember who he is.  

McKay showing up in the last five seconds of the episode to bitch about their time spent on the Hoffan planet. We haven’t seen you since the teaser, you don’t get to complain. 

I’m Confused About Where To Rank These

I still hate that Teyla is wearing a wig, but they curled it this time and gave her pink lipstick for some reason and it’s a really good color for her and I still think the hair and makeup design for this character is bananas but she looks really soft???

The denouement is rushed to fit this story into a standalone episode, which is a shame, because it makes the Hoffans seem foolish, when it would have been so much more macabre for them to do the testing and take time for mass production and know exactly how many of their people will die and they line up around the block anyway.

And news of this Wraith-poisoning drug would absolutely have made it to other worlds and where is my crazy guerilla Wraith network of fanatics out there poisoning Wraith with their own bodies because how utterly METAL would that be, where is it. 

The science montage interspersed with the Sheppard-pacing-around montage just... needs to be mentioned...

SparkWatch 2019:

The turnaround time from “You Did What!?” to “yeah okay fine” is like thirty seconds now. 

He calls her “Doc”

Sheppard yells a lot and wants to shake Weir for not immediately jumping on board the cruel and unusual punishment train, but you just know that when he matures a little, he’s going to realize how important it is that she’s there to hold him back. He’s outsourced his conscience, is what I’m saying.

Key Take-Away:

Uhhh it’s just kind of slipped in here but it’s established that the Wraith literally cannot get sustenance from anything other than humans which seems to leave a pretty morally bleak path to victory, and I’m just saying, it’s a good thing Elizabeth’s not that attached to the Geneva Convention.

[technohumanlation]

Whumptober day 11

The ever so lovely @whumptober2019 made a list of prompts to complete every day for the whole month of October and I’m giving a shot at it this year! 

As always read what you can handle and do not read if you are squimish to any of the warnings.

Stitches

Characters: Gavin Reed, Nines

Warnings: blood, swearing, alcohol

This one was another one that was fun to write ;) Mood setter: “No Good” by Kaleo

Gavin was knocked back into the bar, the bar stools falling from his drunken flailing. His head snapped backward before he looked to the man standing before him. He splayed his arms out to his sides, making it a show of wiping his thumb across his split lip.

"You're barking up the wrong tree, ass-wipe," Gavin smirked.

“Could have said the same when you opened that fat mouth of yours.”

“Sorry, I just thought you were my type.”

Gavin launched himself at the burly man before him, a firm blow being delivered across his jaw.

Just next to him, sitting at the bar, Nines sat nursing his glass of chilled thirium. An exasperated sigh left the android. His LED remained a cool, calm blue.

“Does he...normally do this?” The bartender asked with a raised eyebrow seeing as the android wasn’t making a move to stop the human from destroying half of the bar.

Nines flicked his eyebrows up past his messy bangs. He took the risk of actually setting his hair differently than from the norm. Just for tonight, he wanted to be pretty for his human partner. And to think, it was all for waste. “...Afraid so.” He murmured. He chugged the last of his drink down before he fished in his pocket for Gavin’s credit card he had taken.

A precaution that was taken to prevent the human from buying most of the bar.  

He slid it towards the older man that flicked nervous eyes to the brawling men. A crash of glass had Nines causally looking over his shoulder.

Gavin growled, flicking sweaty bangs from his forehead as blood poured from the deep cuts across his face.

“Should I...call the cops?” He took the card and made the transaction with slow, careful motions.

Other patrons of the bar were looking upon their entertainment for the night with a mix of humor, disgust, and worry.

Nines turned back to the bartender and had to bite his tongue. They were the cops. "Ah, no, that won't be necessary. Tip included on that, please." He took the offered card back. "Whatever for your troubles, I'm sure he would want that."

“Uh, huh.”

Nines stepped off from the barstool and made his way towards his partner, who was resting on the dirty floor for now. His energy was very much well spent. A few rounds of good whiskey and no doubt a few firm blows to the head and gut did that to a man. He tilted his head, observing the other human. He was looking far worse than the growling dog that was Gavin.

He was impressed.

“Detective,” he said in a casual voice. “If we may?”

A grunt and curse was his permission. Nines easily hefted him from the floor by hooking his hands by under his arms. The detective did not attempt to stop him, blood dribbled down from his nose to his lip. “You’re making a mess.” He sighed.

He smiled, white teeth stained with red. Fitting for a rabid human as Gavin. “Shit, Nines, you coulda joined in at any time.” His left eye was swollen shut, blood trickling over it from the cuts in his forehead. Glass still sparkled in the wounds.

"Think I won, though?" A dastardly smirk of smirks split his lips.  

The android, in turn, shook his head in light humor and exasperation. His human was a troubled person. But that made him so interesting. He looked over to the other man once more. A biker looking foe. "Of all the people, Gavin. But sure." He guided his slightly inebriated partner towards the bar door. "Whatever would help you sleep tonight."

Outside, the cold air bit at their skin. Gavin brushed off the androids’ steadying hand. It didn’t stop Nines from straightening his leather jacket and clothing to look at least somewhat presentable.  

The android kept a careful eye on his human as his body relaxed negatively. The adrenaline from the brawl was wearing off, and the aches and pains of the fight began to settle in. Nines allowed his human some space as he stumbled a step back to recoup. He folded over, his hands on his knees, and took in heavy gasps. "Fucking a..." More blood dribbled from his face onto the pavement.

Nines stood by with his hands clasped behind his back. He needed medical attention, but he had learned the hard way. Gavin didn't want help unless Gavin said so or passed out from the stupidity of his actions. "I do recall telling you to behave." His voice practically sang.  

The retort was quick. “Not my fault the bitch didn't like me hitting on him. What?! I honestly thought he was my type." He protested upon the exasperated look his android gave him. Anyone with a scruffy beard and dick was his type, but Nines withheld that dirty dig. He didn't like to torture his human too much.

Work had made stress and frustration build up. This was Gavin’s method of venting such emotions in a “healthy way”.

The android remained stoic until gagging sounds came from him. His expression fell to worry. The fight had upset his alcohol doused stomach, it seemed. His LED swam yellow as he rushed to his side.

“A clinic is open a few blocks away. We should get your face pretty again, yes?” He suggested.

Gavin didn't protest, or couldn't for that fact because another gag took over his voice. He leaned forward, throwing up tortilla chips and good whiskey. Nines kept a firm hold on the human, preventing him from careening over. When the sickness had passed, the human moaned, breathing heavily as snot and blood dripped from his face.

The android pulled him upright and leaned him against a nearby streetlamp. He took off his light jacket and patting at his face, careful of the glass wedged into his skin. It was cold, but his black turtle neck was just fine. Gavin needed the attention more. Nine's LED spun a rapid red as he assessed Gavin once more. He hefted him upright when his tired body began to slide downward. His breathing was ragged, and his eyes sagged closed now and then.

“Come now, detective, I shouldn't baby you like this." He murmured, gently cupping his hand under his chin to tilt his head to the side.

The light from the lamp above cast shadows over his face but highlighted the blood that finally began to slow from his wounds.

Green, hazy eyes looked up to him, watching his every move.

His gaze was never critical or judging. It took Nines a few harsh lessons to learn. He couldn't change the detective's ways. He accepted the fact that his human was far from perfect.  

Gavin Reed was a mess. A mismatched soul with a broken past and good intentions made in all the wrong ways. He drank. He smoked. Was addicted to caffeine in the worst ways. He was hot and hard headed. Maybe ate disgusting take out from a questionable Chinese restaurant or two. And maybe his anger was misplaced, and his desires to reach the top of his ranks were hungry.

But.

He was good. He was kind to those that were weak or hadn't found their strength just yet. He loved animals and held a soft spot in his heart for them. He was brave, loyal, and diligent in his work. Was he top of his class in algebra or economics? No. But he was smart in the sense of knowing things others didn't know when it came to the streets of Detroit.

He could make choices others couldn’t and bear the weight and consequences.

Nines loved him dearly. The good along with the bad. He didn't mind helping him through such troubling times. After all, Gavin was the reason for becoming a deviant, learning of unconditional love.  

In the beginning, he hated the android, and of course, Nines showed him, in his own cold and curt ways, he didn't give a fuck. But soon, he did. He cared how Gavin didn't like him. He cared for the ways Gavin sought self-destructive tendencies to soothe his hurt. He cared for the ways he took on those dangerous cases.  

He cared.

And in doing so, he took the first bullet for his human partner.  

Deviancy hadn’t been kind to him after that. But Gavin learned to be softer with his words. Less violent with his actions.

Patience he didn’t even think the human possessed grew from a seed to a sprout.

Nines was thankful for him. How he tried. Did he completely understand the human yet? No. Did he want to? Of course. That's what love was, after all. Or so he gathered...

“You're right. You shouldn't."

Gavin’s crackling voice brought him out of his thoughts. He looked down to a hand that was gripping his arm and then back up to a broken face. His LED swam a yellow. Uncertainty and the lack of an answer or quip made him uneasy.

Nines blinked a few times and cleared his throat. He settled on a gentle truth. "Well, I suppose if not me, then who would?" Lovingly, the android wiped his nose of the snot and his mouth from the vomit. "So, I have no right to complain then."

He tossed the ruined jacket into the nearby trash. He turned to look at the white article of clothing, reviewing what he had just done. Never had the thought of throwing it away crossed his mind, but here he was.

And.

It felt good to leave that part of him behind and start something new. He looked back to his human.

Gavin was the one watching him now. The gaze was gentle and tired. Even if he was beaten and bruised, he loved him so dearly. He was beautiful.

Again he was shaken from his thoughts when another gag made Gavin bow over. He was by his side his arm being looped around his shoulders. A dry heave was made but nothing was left in his stomach.

They began to walk. His thoughts or whatever Gavin had been processing tonight was shoved into a box to be opened later. Getting him to the clinic was all that mattered at the moment.

The detective had received ten stitches, the black wires sewn through bruising and swollen skin. Nines kept watching over the doctor as he completed his work. And when he had sobered up, left the clinic, and settled on the couch at home, Gavin decided it was time to talk.

“I’m sorry.”

“I am used to your antics by now, detective. Just another day, after all.” Nines offered with a halfhearted smile along with an ice pack for his swollen eye.

Gavin didn’t buy it. He didn’t take the ice pack.

The android sighed and smacked it gently to his eye. Gavin hissed and cursed but didn’t protest. “Deserved that.”

“Oh, hush.” He sat heavily next to the human on the couch, lounging into the corner. Gavin’s cat, Asshole, chirped as she jumped onto his lap. Nines was compliant to stroke her head.

“Thank you.”

Nines stared down at the calico cat and sighed, shoulders sagging. A silent acceptance of the forgiveness he sought.

“Maybe if I didn't hit on the wrong guy, I could have taken someone home."

A smile, a genuine, yet small smile crossed his lips. He looked over to this human, and his eyes were sparkling with mischief.

“I'm here, aren't I?"  

Gavin elbowed him, chuckled, and leaned against the android. "Yeah, yeah, you are."

[ghostmartyr]

Incoming hot opinions(tm) here, feel free to take or leave: Isayama accidentally went overboard with showing the bad about Marley and thought that Magath would be enough good to balance it out. I of course have no way of knowing this, but I wouldn't be suprised if all of this shitnanagans are Isayama's attempts to ape the Civil Rights Mov. Coulda gone something like: "Hey, those Yanks sure were dicks to their own citizens back then and mostly got off scott free, surely Marley can do the same"

I am definitely the wrong person for any commentary related even a little to real world history (@arlingtonpark would probably definitely have fun things to say about this), but that last sentence makes me full of sadness and dread all over. Because. Yeah. Ain’t history grand.

Though I unfortunately think that Marley being as horrible as they are is honestly exactly what it should be. Cartoonishly evil? Maybe, but nothing that the real, non-cartoon world hasn’t done worse. Magath being recognizable as a human within the cruelty circus isn’t to counteract it, it’s because he’s one of the clowns, too.

Magath really isn’t that wonderful. At all. His greatest humanizing moment is hugging a small traumatized child. He is reasonable given the side of the conflict he represents, but the way he’s chosen to improve his country is to scapegoat all their evil on Paradis and steal Paradis’ stuff.

He occasionally treats Eldians like human beings.

Much. Fucking. Wow.

All of the… I don’t want to say sympathetic, but all of the characters in Marley we’re made to understand really just succeed in highlighting why I hate Marley so much. These people can never be the heroes, because a world where they win is a world that’s lost.

Personally, the vibe I get from the writing is that Isayama is a lot more willing to let a person’s light conquer the darkness they’re mired in than is necessarily narratively satisfying. So I’m still eyeing your Yank statement and thinking “oh please no.”

But more optimistically for my standards, one thing Isayama’s been consistently critical of is the lies that feed the cycle of cruelty, and Marley’s still working overtime on that. They are doing better thanks only to the word being a relative description. What they’re after is still fucking terrible, and Magath’s in charge.

So in conclusion I hope Marley ends up on fire when Eren Madokas the world.

[fossadeileonixv]

Mercato Madness: The Final Say

One thing is certain, you are not to soil this man’s name in this here house.

So the summer transfer marker of 2021 is over. 

Let’s take some time to rejoice.

Since banter officially began way back in the summer of 2012, I can recall few players, events, coaches, matches that have divided Milanisti quite like this market. We have some that are singing high praise for Maldini’s ability to capture eleven new players on an 80 million euro budget. Then we have others ridiculing a transfer strategy that culminated in Junior Messias as the answer to the right wing issue, hours before the window closed. The human condition is manifold, reason a flawed and subjective invention, and as such a definitive manichean yes or no, good or bad solution or explanation for nearly anything we can perceive and comprehend is inherently out of reach. The summer 2021 transfer market is no exception. It can be seen as both a failure and a success and it would be difficult for me to argue in favor or in opposition to either position, resolutely. 

To highlight this point, I’m publishing a Twitter DM convo between Mike and I, which I think also kind of covers how each of us feels not only about the players, but the strategy in general. Mike is more optimistic than I, but after re-reading this a few times, I can’t even disagree with him:

TR: I'm trying to just put my faith in Pioli and hope that Brahim lights shit up. Minus this, I'm not even mad at the moves per se, but more experienced or creative minds could have done more.

MIKE: We still desperately need an AM. To me that is the difference between a good window and not.

We replaced Donna, held onto Tomori and Diaz, added a LB, bolstered the midfield with Bakayoko and brought in what could be a 20+ goal scorer in Giroud. That's not bad.

TR: Ya I dunno. RW/AM were like the two areas I expected to be addressed with quality and early and here we are

MIKE: We also brought in Florenzi and Messias as band aids at RW. Not that I'm thrilled with either.

That all being said I think we are at a solid 7; get me an AM and we are at an 8.

I think people are really underestimating how much we needed another striker to go with Ibra and just how good Giroud is gonna be.

TR: It isn't a terrible market and the MF depth is huge, I just think we coulda done better.

Giroud is gonna be great, there is no doubt in my mind. I don't see how Zlatan regains his starting spot tbh, because I also don't see us playing with 2 strikers

MIKE: Also, Maignan for peanuts is a coup. Look at the keepers at the other top clubs in the league.... Ospina, Handanovic, Reina, Szcezny.....

We may very well have the best keeper in the league again

TR: We could. Oddly kind of a low bar which is weird when you think about how stacked the league was with keepers 3 or 4 years back

MIKE: I think he's levels above those guys.

TR: We’ll see.

MIKE: If Leao WOULD SHOW UP AND BE WORTH 40 MILLION we could live with whoever plays on the right. Amazing how he gets a free pass while folks run Castillejo out of town.

LW was trash last year yet the RW was the problem? We've but 10s of millions into that area and gotten fuck all. I don't get it. We paid 9 for Casti and 4 for Saelemaekers and they catch all the hate?

Sorry I'll climb off my soapbox.

TR: LW was at least productive, statistically. Samu was a net 0 and Saele is just not a good enough finisher to play that advanced. Also, we paid like 24m for Casti.

I get it. I gripe about players all the time, but there are certain ones like Saele and Samu where its like, this is as good as they can get. If you're unhappy with it, that's someone else's problem. I think the difference with Leao is that Leao's ceiling is literally world class so the patience is and should be a bit longer.

MIKE: What I don’t understand is people think these rumors m an we had a chance at these players or that somehow Maldini failed.We are a mid level team that made the CL for first time in years. We are barely relevant. Certainly not a destination.

The days of a guy like Sabitzer having a great euros and coming here are loooooong gone.

TR: My counterpoint top that is that mid-level teams playing for nothing are signing quality. Villa signed Emmy Buendia. Wolves signed Sanches. Roma signed Tammy. James/Bernardo, I never really expected but players the level of Vlasic were certainly within our reach.

But again, my issue is more the plan. Taking younger players that can't break into Chelsea and Madrid is fine here and there, but it isn't a transfer strategy. They pay a lot of lip service to the RB model but can't land the sort of players necessary to make that work.

MIKE: I’m sorry but there’s no comparison between us and even a mid level EPL team.

The spending power and attraction of those clubs is light years above us. All we can do is hope they are dumb enough to pay 25 million for Cutrone.

25 million is nothing to them

TR: Spending power sure, but there are a lot of players that don't care for the league or the country (weather/food/family/ etc.) otherwise these clubs would be thriving in tourneys like Europa and they don't. 

I've been telling my brother that the model is the right one, but the coach, owners, and directors aren't really qualified enough to make it work. They are however, good enough to finish top four in Italy if all goes right.

And we've sucked for a decade, but players generally hate leaving Milan barring some kind of real personal thing.

The attraction, I believe, is still there. They just don't really have a coherent plan.

And look, the situations were bad, and I hate to beat a dead horse, but arguably two of your three most valuable assets walked out for free. One to a rival. I can't think of a real-life business comparison but that is a reallllllyy bad screwup.

MIKE: I can. You let older workers go and hire replacements at a third of their wages. Happens all the time

TR: But if you could have sold those older workers....

Well, that's slavery, nm. but you get my point.

The four ounce glass has two ounces of water, this we can be sure of. On one hand, we are definitely half full. We’re undoubtedly good enough to compete at a high level as indicated by our second place finish last season and first two games this year. This is as complete a team as we have had since the beginning of banter, and the work that management has done so far is admirable considering the restrictions. Mike is correct in that we aren’t in a financial position to acquire world-class talent, so names like Bernardo, Sabitzer, or even James aren’t quite our reality yet. 

But we’re definitely half empty. Big Mike looks the part so far, but sorry Don-haters, he is not at good as PSG’s backup. In fact it would be difficult for me to say that we are substantially a better starting eleven than the one that huffed over the finish line last season, sans maybe Giroud. We’re good enough to finish top four, but it isn’t wild to think of scenarios where we finish anywhere between fifth and seventh. We have depth in almost everywhere, but we also accrued that depth at the expense of two positions that were burning for quality. And while we can’t flex and grab the names mentioned above, you do have to think that with a little more cunning, a bit more panache, and better negotiating skills, we could have done a bit more to make those odds of finishing 5th less likely.

But who is to say? It’s done, thankfully. And now it is time to enjoy the ride. So with our respective thesis’ laid out, let’s rate and speculate with a few questions and answers on the mercato by Mike and I!

MIKE LISI’S THOUGHTS

Biggest coup: Maignan for 14 million. He might already be the best keeper in the league and no one misses Donnarumma. On top of that, Maldini showed that he won't be bullied by the backup keeper for PSG.

The Biggest Surprise: Giroud. I bet he scores 20 goals.

The Biggest Oversight: The attacking midfield spot. Runner up is CB. Kjaer’s health worries me and we’re a little thin at that spot.

Overall Rating: 8/10; Maiagnan, Tomori, Torre, Bakayoko, Florenzi, Brahim, Adli, Pellegri, Giroud. All we lost was Hakan and Donnarumma and we have easily improved each of those spots. No complaints really. Also, we only spent 70 million. Between Hakan and Donnarumma we would have spent that much on their salaries alone.

Are we a better team than last year: Hell yeah we are better. Last year I think we greatly overachieved to finish where we did. This year I expect us to be top 3. Big difference in my mind.

TEEN ROCKETT’s TAKE

Biggest coup: Giroud. Unlike Mike, I won’t be surprised if he scores 20. I think for the price, the return is going to be higher than any other player we purchased this season.

The Biggest Surprise: Junior. I am letting my romanticism for his story cloud my judgement, but considering what he did with Crotone last year, I don’t think it is inconceivable we get five or six goals and a few assists platooning with Saele.

The Biggest Oversight: Not solidifying RW and AM. I just really don’t understand how we waited until the dying hours to address one and chose to take a considerable gamble putting the load all on Brahim for the other. Runner up will be not selling Kessie and or Romagnoli. But talk to me this time next year.

Overall Rating: 6.5/10; I am impressed with what we did for 80 million and I think we are a more rounded team, with depth in almost every position. We did a good job balancing youth and veterans. Additionally, moves like Pellegri, Traore and Clinton (the latter two being youths) are the kind of moves that get me excited for the future. But while I think we’re capable of about the same point total as last season I’m not sure we did enough to beat out Atalanta, Juve, Inter and to a lesser extent Napoli, and yes I’m saying it without really believing it, Roma. And from a strictly business standpoint, not capitalizing the Don and Hakan departures were massive mistakes. There’s no way around that.

Are we a better team than last year: We’re more complete. We will see what that translates to on the pitch. I’d have a tough time saying that we are out and out better, but if not, we didn’t take a step back.

Allright Leoni. That’s that. In the damn books. Sound off below and feel free to hit us with your own biggest coup, biggest surprise, major oversight, overall rating, and whether we are better or not.

[crazygaze]

It's Just That Time of Year

Pairing: Hanamaki/Matsukawa, slight Iwaizumi/Oikawa 

Rating: T for titties they swear but that’s about it

Synopsis: Finally posting that hanamatsu meme drabble fic for my birthday, I’ve had this forever!! Big insp from HQ meme bot

"Wha-I don't want to hear this from assholes who bought a gingerbread house making kit only to eat the pieces and suck the frosting out of the bag it came with," Iwaizumi points accusingly. 

Matsukawa shrugs and Hanamaki raises his hands in surrender. "In my defense- it's hard to resist gingerbread, Christmas is the only time of year I get it." Iwaizumi looks to Matsukawa. 

"Frosting... is good." He says simply. 

Oikawa grumbles. "What good is it to have a gingerbread house making contest if the competitors eat the supplies." 

=

"I love you," Hanamaki sings flatly and strums a badly tuned acoustic guitar with complete gusto, "-bitch." He points meaningfully at Matsukawa.

"And I'm never gonna leave you," Hanamaki strums the guitar again loudly and sings slightly off-key, "-bitch."

Matsukawa watches him impassively from the drums and when Hanamaki goes for the creative musical solo, a music store worker comes up to them with an annoyed look and kindly asks them to leave.

= 

Iwaizumi scowls and pulls open the door. "Honestly, I don't even know why I-" he stops. 

Oikawa frowns. "Iwa-chan, why did you..." He trails off and peers over Iwaizumi's shoulder. 

The team sat in the dark meeting room in a circle with joined hands, the only light in the room was a cellphone placed in the middle. Probably because the fire hazard issue with candles. "If there is a spirit here," Hanamaki says with the utmost seriousness. "Please knock Oikawa out." Kindaichi gives Iwaizumi a desperate look from where he kneels, clutching Kunimi and Watari. Yahaba glances at Oikawa nervously. 

"He's the pretty one." Matsukawa adds helpfully. Hanamaki glares at Matsukawa. 

"Now the spirit is going to think I'm Oikawa and knock me out, I'm the pretty one," he hisses. 

"Oi-" Iwaizumi interrupts the seance finally. "Everyone get to bed! I don't know what stupid shit those two started but it's going to be lights out and everyone in bed in two minutes." 

When there's a silence in response he crosses his arms. "Is that understood?" There's a chorus of uneasy affirming and sweaty hands letting each other go. Just as Matsukawa opens his mouth to say something, Kunimi slumps over on his side, bumping Kindaichi's leg. Kindaichi goes as pale as a sheet of paper. "He's unconscious." He says in a trembly voice. Hanamaki looks offended and puts a hand to his chest. 

"What the fu-hey, I'm supposed to be the pretty one," he argues into the air. Matsukawa pats his thigh consolingly. There's multiple alarming shouts and clamoring and Iwaizumi drags a hand down his face. Kunimi sleeps on, undisturbed. 

= 

 "I don't know why you're crushing on him," Oikawa sniffs. "Look at Iwa-chan, at least he has redeeming qualities." They both look over to where an Iwaizumi is talking to Yahaba, sleeves rolled up and blissfully unaware of all the ogling he's receiving. "He could sneeze on a pickle jar and the lid would pop right off!" 

"First of all, that's disgusting. Secondly, Hanamaki can open pickle jars just fine and didn't Iwaizumi threaten to smash a jar over your head once because you were groping his arms?" Matsukawa lists off and raises a thick but well kept brow. "Also what do you mean crushing on him, he's my boyfriend." 

He waves. "Semantics. By the way, where the hell is Hanamaki?" Oikawa asks, looking around with a squint. Hanamaki is nowhere to be seen. Matsukawa sighed deeply and put a hand over his heart and stared off to the distance forlornly. 

"Hey what the hell is he looking at?" Iwaizumi walks over and nods at Matsukawa, staring at the gym wall or a possibly unamused and equally uncomfortable Kunimi. 

"He's being stupid-" 

"Hanamaki is in detention." 

"What," Iwaizumi said in disbelief. “Why?”   

"Wrote 'sickass motherfucker' on an English essay we were supposed to do. Printed it out and turned it in." 

Oikawa and Iwaizumi look at each other. "I miss you, babe," Matsukawa sighs again and pulls out his phone to snapchat a very close picture of his expressionless double-chinned face and a large caption of 'Send Nudes' to Hanamaki. 

"And they say romance is dead." Oikawa sniffs.

 = 

In an empty classroom in the morning before class, there's Oikawa screaming, running around desks trying to avoid a pencil wielding Iwaizumi. "It's not my fault you don't know acronyms!" Oikawa screeches, darting around desks. He's got the disadvantage of being on the opposite side of the classroom door. 

"You could have told me like a normal human being but no, you waited till there was a teacher behind me?!" Iwaizumi roared, cheeks blazing red. 

"'TBH' isn't hard to figure out, Iwa-chan!" He yells and throws a poorly crumpled paper ball at Iwaizumi. It doesn't deter the other in any way and bounces off his shoulder harmlessly. 

Off to the side, Hanamaki clutches his sides and gasps for air. "T-The Butt Hole," he wheezes and slaps his desk, "He tho-thought! TBH was-!" Hanamaki cackles.  

Matsukawa is softly chanting "Stab him, stab him, stab him," and it rises louder and louder every time Iwaizumi lunges for Oikawa with a mechanical pencil. 

 = 

Hanamaki groans and throws his pencil across the room and it sails over Iwaizumi's shoulder and hits the wall he's leaning on. Iwaizumi doesn't even blink or snap like he usually would, the air that passes through his lips is less of a sigh and more like an exhalation of his soul. His biology textbook has been open on the same page for the past half hour. 

Oikawa is passed out face down on a backpack with a timer counting down for a 15 minute nap. Matsukawa jerks awake at the thump of the pencil hitting the wall and the pink highlighter he was holding to a textbook skitters off the page. Not that it did much considering how much was already highlighted. "Fuck, I hate finals," Matsukawa whines for the nth time. 

"I'm not meant for education," Hanamaki says empathetically. He glances at the clock and 3:17 AM glares at him in red. They're quiet aside from Oikawa's soft muffled snoring. 

"Guys," Iwaizumi says in an uncharacteristically small voice. They perk up from where they lay on the worksheet strewn bed and look over. 

"Will you guys still love me when I no longer ball so fucking hard?" Iwaizumi looks up at them with red-bull-induced despair and wide, adorably sleep deprived teary eyes that shouldn't belong so well on a muscular heartthrob of a volleyball team who literally challenged the basketball captain to a thumb-wrestling contest with the morning gym schedule on the line. 

"I coulda swore I would be the one in the emotional crisis this time around," Hanamaki mutters softly as Matsukawa clamors down from the bed to Iwaizumi. Sheets of papers fall but he heeds them no mind. 

"Of course we'll love you. Don't worry, you'll always ball hard," Matsukawa shoves a pencil in between the biology textbook as a place marker and shoves it off Iwaizumi's lap with a loud thud. Oikawa doesn't stir. He clumsily sits in its place. Matsukawa is already tall as it is and it's a slightly awkward crouch but he pulls Iwaizumi's sniffling face to his chest and clutches him close. "You'll always ball so hard, Iwaizumi. So fucking hard." 

Iwaizumi just trembles and Matsukawa can't tell if it's the fourth can of red-bull kicking in or it's emotions but he affectionately pats down the spiky brown hair. His arms wind around and hug Matsukawa. Hanamaki isn't even phased, "Yeah," he adds helpfully. He rifles through his backpack and pulls out a packet of wasabi peas he forgot to have for lunch. He tosses them down next to them. "We love you. Oikawa too," he adds as an afterthought. 

Oikawa's phone alarm rings and Oikawa mutes it without looking at it and peels himself off the backpack. There's pink indents on his face and he takes a long moment before squinting his eyes open and looking at where Matsukawa has now taken to feeding Iwaizumi wasabi peas in his lap with whispering reassurances. 

"Seriously?" He asks, voice rough but toneless with borderline-grade-at-stake-studying-exhaustion. He’s been riding on 10 hours of sleep for the past three days  

"Don't even," Hanamaki threatens mildly with a protractor. "We literally madeout with you last time this happened because you were convinced we all secretly hated you" 

"...That's fair." Oikawa mutters tiredly, throwing an arm over his eyes.

=

“Send nudes” Matsukawa says rather loudly and sudden in the silence of a perfectly good lunch. 

Hanamaki gets up and leaves.

Minutes later, Matsukawa’s phone pings, he checks it. “Nice,” he says with emphasis. 

[sinrau]

(CNN) That’s a wrap on Night 3 of the 2020 Democratic National Convention.

It was a star-studded nigh t, with the last Democratic president ( Barack Obama ), the last Democratic presidential nominee (Hillary Clinton) and, perhaps, the next presidential nominee (Kamala Harris) all speaking.

Below the best — and worst — of the night that was.

HITS

* Barack Obama: Yes, the former president is an incredibly talented orator. But we’ve long known that. What mattered most about Obama’s speech on Wednesday was that he did what lots of Democrats have been begging him to do for the last three-ish years: He delivered a stunning takedown of the man who followed him into the White House. Obama said that Trump simply does not take the job “seriously.” He said that Trump uses the government’s vast powers in a purely “transactional way.” And most powerfully, he said this: “Donald Trump hasn’t grown into the job because he can’t, and the consequences of that failure are severe.” Consider what Obama is saying there: As someone who did the job — for eight years — he not only believes Trump cannot rise to the demands of the presidency, but also that there are very real effects of Trump’s deficiency. “This isn’t just the sharpest criticism Obama has made of Trump,” tweeted Politico’s Tim Alberta. “This is the sharpest criticism a former president has ever made of a sitting president.”

* Kamala Harris: The vice presidential nominee started slowly — almost certainly the result of nerves — as she delivered the single most important speech of her political life. Even as she recounted her personal story, you could tell that she was still struggling somewhat to find her sea legs. And then she hit this line, when talking about her background as a prosecutor: “I know a predator when I see one.” Harris paused, purposely, after dropping that hammer of a line — and everyone watching knew who she was talking about. From that moment on, Harris was like a different person — confident, powerful and fully aware of the history she was making as the first Black and South Asian woman to be on a national ticket for a major party. Her best line? “There is no vaccine for racism. We have got to put in the work.” If Harris’ speech was a tryout for 2024 (or 2028), she passed it.

*Gabrielle Giffords: I still remember the day Giffords, at the time a Democratic congresswoman from Arizona, was shot in the head at an event in her district in 2011. Her struggles — and triumphs — over the last decade have put a very human face to the fight over gun control. Giffords’ speech on Wednesday night, which capped a piece of the programming dedicated to the toll taken by gun violence, was incredibly moving, not least because they showed how hard she had worked to be able to deliver it seamlessly. It was the longest speech she has delivered, in fact, since that 2011 shooting. “Convention organizers say @GabbyGiffords worked intensely to be able to deliver these remarks,” t weeted NBC’s Mike Memoli.“It’s quite something to see.” Yes, it was.

* “A woulda coulda shoulda election:” Hillary Clinton’s speech wasn’t, to my mind, terribly memorable. But this line about 2020 — “this can’t be another woulda coulda shoulda election” — was a very good one. And it was even more stirring when delivered by a woman who received almost 3 million more votes than Trump in 2016 — and still lost.

***** Presidential Medal of Freedom video: I remember watching Obama present former Vice President Joe Biden with the Presidential Medal of Freedom on their last days in the White House in January 2017. What struck me then — and what I was reminded of while watching the video played during Wednesday night’s convention program — was that Biden was 1) genuinely surprised and 2) deeply aware of what the honor meant. His emotion, which he was unable to contain, was real and unforced. In re-showing that video, it was a stirring reminder of Biden’s single strongest quality (and, conversely one of Trump’s weakest): Empathy.

* Sam Cooke: “A Change is Gonna Come” — which Jennifer Hudson performed at the end of the night — is just an amazing song. You should listen to Sam Cooke singing the original. He slays it (as did she)!

MISSES

* Donald Trump: What’s the easiest way to let your opponents know their critiques are getting to you? By responding- – in real time — to them! “HE SPIED ON MY CAMPAIGN, AND GOT CAUGHT!,” tweeted Trump in the middle of Obama’s speech. But Trump wasn’t done! “WHY DID HE REFUSE TO ENDORSE SLOW JOE UNTIL IT WAS ALL OVER, AND EVEN THEN WAS VERY LATE?,” Trump asked of Obama as the former president was wrapping up his speech. “WHY DID HE TRY TO GET HIM NOT TO RUN?” Like, maybe lay off the caps lock for a while, Mr. President?

* Mike Pompeo: Being secretary of state is a very big job. You are, with the lone exception of the president, the face America shows to the world. Which is why Mike Pompeo’s tweet in the middle of House Speaker Nancy Pelosi’s speech — a GIF of Lisa Simpson crying and tearing up a written speech — was so, so tone-deaf. (To be clear: I was not a big fan of Pelosi ripping up her copy of Trump’s State of the Union speech either. ) Pompeo should leave the trolling to the Internet. It’s what it’s there for.

* Tony Evers: When you are the Democratic governor of the state where the Democratic convention is (sort of) being staged, you get a speaking slot at some point during the proceedings. So, we got Tony Evers. And he was, uh, shaky. At least it was short. And he used the phrase “Holy mackerel, folks” — so it wasn’t all bad.

Hits and misses from Night 3 of the Democratic National Convention #web #website #copied #toread #highlight #link #news #read #blog #wordpresspost #posts #breaking news# #Sinrau #Nothiah #Sinrau29 #read #wordpress

[kerfufflewatch]

Then and Now

hey here’s some @dilfosaur 2demons AU because I love that shit

-----

“Can I ask you kind of a weird favor?”

Hanzo shrugs one shoulder, his gaze kept on the tiny bonfire between himself and McCree. “I suspect that you will ask me regardless of what I say,” he responds. Which is true--something he has learned about McCree in the past six weeks is that McCree is a very forthright person, when the situation allows for it.

McCree does not take offense, though, instead chuckling as he swigs deeply from a steel flask. He offers the flask to Hanzo, and Hanzo takes it gratefully. Alcohol has simply not been the same since his change 10 years ago, but McCree somehow always has a full supply of a whiskey so potent that even demons can enjoy drunkenness. On some nights, that becomes close to a necessity. 

He drinks, and McCree regards him for a moment. Then he asks, “Can you show me what you look like? What you really look like, as a human.”

Hanzo frowns quizzically at the request. “You have seen my human form before,” he replies. 

“Yeah, I know, I just--don’t always get a good look at it, is all. D’ya mind?”

Though confused, Hanzo does as bidden. It is only the work of a thought to change his form, to revert to what he used to be. The horns at his temples recede to flat bone, and the fangs to normal, if slightly more pointed, canine teeth. Though he cannot feel it, he knows that the irises of his eyes darken, and the red marking fade from his face, and when he glances down at his hands, his skin has turned to a pale, warm tone so much livelier than the former cold, ashen gray. He prods lightly at the tip of his tooth with his tongue, readjusting briefly to the lack of fangs, and then looks up at McCree.

McCree’s expression is inscrutable. He gazes intensely at Hanzo, searching for something, though what that would be Hanzo can only guess. The golden firelight does something interesting to the color of McCree’s eyes, casting highlights of yellow and orange against the inky-black that briefly has Hanzo transfixed as well. He wonders if this is what mortal men feel like when they are caught by McCree’s Deadeye: stripped bare, his soul assessed, looking for something before McCree decides whether to simply take it all away. 

Finally, McCree asks, “What was it like?”

“What?”

“The change. What was it like? I know you said somethin’ happened, and you don’t gotta tell me about that, but humans that turned demon are kinda rare. You know, comparatively speakin".”  McCree gestures vaguely at himself. As far as any of them knew, he had always been a demon, although McCree had admitted before he remembered little of when he was young. Either way, Hanzo has met very few demons, and fewer still who had turned as he did. 

He breathes in deeply as he recalls that day--10 years ago now, though it feels like both an eternity and nothing at all--and tries to find the words. “It was . . . strange,” he starts. “And instant. The moment I--did what I did, the moment it was done, it was as though . . .”

He pauses, then shakes his head. “I am sorry. It is difficult to describe.”

“Take your time.”

Hanzo huffs, slightly annoyed at himself, before starting again. “I cannot explain exactly how I knew, but it was this feeling that my soul was simply . . . gone, for lack of a better word. As though it were pulled from my body and would never be mine again. I thought it was simply guilt for what I had done, but I looked down at my hands and . . .”

Hanzo does glance down at his hands then, flexing them in his lap. “My skin had changed. Under the blood, it was simply gray. And when I later looked in a mirror . . . It was not difficult to guess what had happened. What I had done was so unforgivable that I had to be punished, and this is what fate chose for me.”

McCree’s expression softens. “Now I doubt it’s that simple,” he says.

“No? It seems rather simple to me.”

“I mean, yeah, what you did musta been pretty messed up, not that I know a whole lot about how that happens, but--”

“McCree,” Hanzo interrupts wearily, “I am not looking for you to justify my actions. What I did was unforgivable. I have accepted that, and I have accepted my punishment.”

McCree looks dissatisfied, but he nods. He swigs from his flask, and Hanzo accepts that as a sign the conversation has ended.

But they lapse into silence for only a moment before McCree says, “Wish I coulda known ya before that all happened.”

“Do you now.”

“O’course. I like humans all around, but you--I dunno. I just wish I could have seen what you were like. I bet you were a lot greater than you give yourself credit for.” McCree gives a lopsided, easy smile. “And if you really were as pretty then as you are now, I can’t say I’d be upset about seein’ that in its prime, too.”

Hanzo can feel his face flush, and wishes his skin were still dark enough at the moment to hide it. He returns his attention to the fire, and McCree chuckles softly beside him. 

[jayankles]

Shared Birthday

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: It’s Sam and your daughter’s birthday and you have no idea what to get them.

Word Count: 1528

A/N – This is my submission for @impalaimagining​ ‘s #Sam Winchester Birthday Celebration and #Taylor’s 3k Followers Challenge. The prompt I chose was: ‘Wait, there’s no such thing as unicorns?’ Which will be highlighted below.

Daddy’s Nugget - Masterlist

It was getting closer and closer to Sam's and Lizzie's shared birthday and you just didn't know what to get them. You contemplated doing some research of your own and collect all the information you could for Sam's serial killer fetish and make a pack of cards but that may be going a little too far but in all honesty you didn't know what to get either of your nearest and dearest. Maybe you should just buy him a new blender for his health shakes. Or a healthy eating recipe book.

Knowing what cake she wanted, you ordered you ordered it - chocolate sponge ice cream cake - online to be collected on the day.

You spoke to Dean about it, what should you get for his brother for his birthday. As usual, he was as helpful as ever, answering with the words you should have expected.

Washing the dishes in the sink after dinner, you lost yourself staring at the wall in front of you. You jumped when you felt Dean's arm wrap around your waist, hands resting on your protruding seven months pregnant belly, almost like he was already protecting the lives inside of you. The twins inside making you feel like you were carrying a globe on the inside of your stomach. Right now they were causing a riot, jumping and kicking at the hands of their daddy.

'What are you thinking about?'

Putting the dishes down, you leaned back into his embrace, tilting your head away from Dean, allowing him to kiss at your neck a few times before resting his chin on your shoulder.

'I was thinking about what to get your brother and daughter for their birthday. I feel like a really shitty parent and sister-in-law for not knowing what they want.' You huffed, pouting your lips before it began to tremble.

'You're not a shitty parent or sister-in-law. And to be honest, I was just going to get Sam the barbie doll I always got him; he has a collection now. I was going to take Lizzie out for a day, don't know where yet but it'll happen something will come to you.'

'I hope so, although I wish it would happen sooner rather than later.'

That was twenty minutes ago.

Luckily, you had walked out of the kitchen and into the library where Sam and Lizzie were discussing the topic of presents. 

'Alright, Shorty-'

'Gigantor.' She giggled as she interrupted him.

'Ha ha. Very funny,' he sarcastically remarks. 'What do you want for your birthday, monkey?'

'I want a unicorn!' The almost six year old exclaimed as she giddily bounced in his lap, her hands shaking his shoulders excitedly.

You stepped in the room at that moment. 'They don't exist, baby.'

Both Sam and Lizzie turned to you, their mouths agape and gone slack like you had just punched a puppy. 'Wait, there's no such thing as unicorns?'

'You didn't know Sam?' You asked with a teasing tone in your abnormally high voice.

'I thought that it was a possibility that they existed, like have you seen the things we hunt? They shouldn't exist but they do.' His lips turned down, into a frown, more of a questionable expression; like he wasn't sure even with the things he's seen, he didn't know what was real or just a myth.

'Can't I just ask Uncle Cas to magically make me one? He is an angel.' Lizzie said, leaning against the table in the middle of the library.

You and Sam laughed at her logic but had to tell her that, 'Castiel's grace doesn't work like that and I think Chuck can only do that, but we don't know where he is.'

'Maybe I can manipulate Uncle Crowley to give me a hellhound.'

'How do you know that word?'

'Uncle Sam is teaching me stuff on the internet, it is so cool. The other day I learned that we can grow plants in a cotton ball but you have to keep watering it everyday.' You smiled at her enthusiasm, she seems to love spending time with Sam, learning new things when they were in the same room with him and he had a break.

'Awesome! What about you Sam? What do you want for your birthday?'

He looked to Lizzie with an affectionate smile, 'I don't want anything, I’ve got everything I need, right here.' Although his answer was sincere and you could feel the love and adoration radiating off of him, it didn't really help you when you wanted to get him a tangible object. 

'Uh huh, great thanks.' You sassed. 

Sam picked up his niece by the waist and hauled her over her shoulder, leaving you to your own thoughts in the room. Slumping in the chair, you huffed, tapping your nails into the hard wood of the table. 

Barely realising you had nodded off, a hand gently shook your shoulder, your eyes flew open in fear, your arms flailing, causing it to collide with a face; Dean's face. 

'Ouch, you got quite the reflexes darlin', coulda actually bruised me by the feel of it.' He chuckled, his fingers prodding at his recently hit cheek. 

Clambering out of your seat, you rushed to his side, inspecting the mark on his face, 'I'm so sorry Dean. I didn't mean to. I- I was-'

'Relax, (Y/N), it's okay. I'm fine, I've taken worse.' 

'I know but it still doesn't make me feel any better.'

You felt awful, although you knew what he did on a daily basis, it still hurt to know that you had hurt him no matter how minuscule it felt to him.

'So I found out that Lizzie wants a unicorn, but I might have an idea of what to get her. She's slyly been hinting that she likes it, I don't even think she knows she says it. But she gets so excited, she makes me so hap-'

You were cut short when a sharp pain hit your stomach, 'you need to tell your child whichever one they are to chill, and stop kicking me.' You breathed through the pain as either your son or your daughter kicked you.

Dean hands came to rest on your stomach and the kicking immediately ceased to exist, only feeling the weight of your children inside of you.

'You were saying?' He asks, waiting for you to tell him your idea about Lizzie's birthday present.

'What the fuck?'

'Shh, don't swear, our kids are in there.' He hushes you, kneeling in front of you and planting a kiss on your clothed swollen belly.

Rolling your eyes, you said, 'they can't hear me, numb nuts.'

'Actually, I read they can, so hush your mouth. Who's the numb nuts now?' He triumphantly smiles.

'Shut up.'

When the time came around, you were relieved, a load of stress had been lifted off your shoulders and now you could relax. 

Lizzie had been happy with the sparkly stuffed unicorn Dean had found online, but that wasn't the gift that you had in mind. 

You handed her a small envelope with her name neatly scrawled across it. When he opened it she was confused at first, but when you explained what it meant, you smiled at her loud squealing.

'I'm going to school?!'

'Yeah, happy birthday, baby.'

'Alright, Sammy's turn.' Dean declared, he walked towards him and handed him a rectangular box, which you knew was the doll and another much larger square box. 

Sam anticipated the barbie and gave Dean his patent bitch face, which he returned with a sly smirk. 'Jerk.'

'Bitch.'

'Mommy, daddy said a bad word.'

'That's right, he did. Naughty daddy. The babies can hear you.' You smiled sweetly, using his words from a few days ago. 

'Shut up.' He mimicked. 'Open the other one.'

'You got me a blender, and a recipe book. Thanks Dean.'

'You little-. You looked at my list.' You directed at Dean.

'Maybe.'

Sam rolled his eyes at your antics and waited patiently until you stopped. Your box to his was smaller than the rest, you just hoped he liked it. It was a small, long rectangle, wrapped in red metallic wrapping paper. When he opened it and smiled, closing the distance between you and pulled you into a tight hug, careful not to crush the two humans that were inside you.

Dean asked what is was and what it meant.

‘It’s a necklace. It has five interlinking circles. Red for Sam, pink for Lizzie, blue for Cas, green for you, and purple for me. That way, no matter what, we’ll always be together. I didn’t know what to get you and I’m sorry it’s kinda tacky-’

‘No,’ Sam interrupted. ‘It’s perfect (Y/N), really. I told you I had everything I needed here and you just solidified that bond that we al have. Thank you.’

You gathered, sitting in eachothers company, laughing at the old stories that you could recall and the new ones that you didn’t know. And then, in that moment, you knew that your little family would be okay. Through the ups and the down, you would all end up together. As a unit. As a family.

Lemme know what you think

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[patroclusblack]

10 year challenge.

At the turn of the decade I was naive, arrogant, somewhat confident, I guess? and on a downward spiral into the fucking abyss. I didn’t have morals or a plan or structure or a fucking back bone but people liked me.

What would I say to him, knowing what I know now? What would I write in a letter? What wisdom and knowledge would I perform in a grandeur sob story in attempts to appease RuPaul’s tyrannical demands for good tv? What were my best bits?

I’m not gonna do that. Shoulda woulda coulda is the most damaging thing when you’re riddled with depression, constantly regretting your mistakes and doubting yourself; highlighting every single mis-step like it’s the Hollywood Walk of Fame. I’ve spent too many nights wishing I could do it all over. I have a penchant for self pity. Poor, unfortunate soul.

I’m not gonna post a picture from 2010 and compare it to a photo of myself today, because I haven’t had a “glow up”. I hate photos of myself as it is, but I’m not gonna humiliate my former self and look at what a sad sap I used to be and look how I’ve grown!! Because that’s not healthy, it’s not helpful. It’s not advocating awareness for mental health. Bleurgh that was gross. But it’s not, I can’t sit and look at all these posts of people making their former bodies and personas a laughing stock to fuel their narrow minded self importance. All it does is pit everyone against each other, and fuel these dickhead’s egos. It’s damaging and even though the intent perhaps isn’t there, it still makes you feel lesser when you’re bombarded by the people you went to highscool with peacocking all over the internet, because you didn’t get married or graduate or get that big promotion, because you didn’t get a six pack and make your own fuckin onlyfans account. Besides the point. I haven’t actually grown, I haven’t had a magical glow up, or changed or completed my bucket list. I didn’t live, I barely scraped by.

How did I survive though, what did I learn? What’s the whole point in this? Is this just another melodramatic, mid-night rant while I’m sober and angry because I’ve spent too much time on instagram today!?

Well, yes, but also:

I stopped comparing myself to others.

I try to make a conscious point of considering the position and emotions of my family when I’m in a bad way

I woke myself up to signs of toxic men and avoided some gross situations

I learnt about my political stance, my privilege, and important topics that are specific to me; ie my sexuality, my social class, my friends struggles with gender identity and social acceptance, lgbtq law, supporting my friends who are dealing with trauma, local and world politics. I just listened, and read, and educated myself on stuff that really matters, to me.

I did stuff that made me happy more often. I don’t mean things that are gonna make me a happy person, just things that made me happy for a time. I don’t know how long I’ll be alive for, and I mean that in the least suicidey way possible, it’s just fact. So I want the people who love me to at least be able to remember enjoying me and feel like I was worth their time, in the same way that I cherish and obsess over every person that walks my way. And I want my time on earth to be somewhat bareable too yknow?

I listened to a lot of music. I read a lot of books. I bought a lot of books. I left a job that wasn’t good for my mental health and learnt how to give myself some financial stability. Sometimes I cook. Mainly I just sat in my pants watching Netflix and got wasted, but sometimes I did that with people too. I had really good sex. I also had some horrid sex and even some traumatic sex but that’s for another day. I spent a lot of time playing with my dogs. I drive everywhere, cos I just like driving. I go to museums and I like having a croissant, coffee and cigarette breakfast outside when it’s sunny because it makes me feel fancy. I observe, but mostly I just do, cos what’s the point in not?

I’m not saying that’s how you do it, that this is Mental Health Survival 101, but things like that shift the focus. I cba giving you the whole schpiel (sp? Is that even a word?) about self love and mindfulness and well being, because I’m not a smoothing sipping sycophant wearing birkenstock’s in the middle of winter on the way to my yoga retreat. But also because that doesn’t work for me. I’ve tried meditation, routine and exercise. If it works for you then that’s amazing, but I don’t have the patience or the attitude or the attention span to give a shit about that or the condescending movement it’s become anymore. My idea of self love is tequila, porn and garlic bread.

I guess what I wanted to say was, I haven’t had the best decade, I haven’t grown very much I don’t think. But also, I’m not gonna look back on all those years, good or bad, and regret it, or wish I’d done a little bit more, because what’s done is done. I’m not gonna compare myself to others experiences and outcomes. All I can do is observe and accept. Or unfollow them.

I’m not one for New Years resolutions, all the new year new me bollocks (does that really surprise you though?) but I do want to learn to just be kind to myself. Recently, during the midst of The Twitter Gays posting their annual Top 9 on insta, and yearly accomplishment posts, I came to a realisation that I’d put the bare minimum about myself out into the world this year. Not that I have to document everything, or feel that I need to, but I realised I’d really taken a step back. I knew I hadn’t posted any pictures of myself because I knew how critical I’d become of myself again, and that’s not a headspace I like to be in. I’m never going to be happy, I know that. I’m never going to truly love myself, but it’s nice to be nice right? I don’t want to end up in that vacuum of self hatred again.

When I was 18, I was miserable, lonely and depressed (pathetic), now I’m 28 and at least I can say I’m consistent. I still don’t know who I am. I’ve been single for a while, and when I don’t have someone to latch onto, I really struggle with my identity, hence why I try to enjoy simple things like the previously listed. I’m, somewhat, in control of damaging behaviours, or at least I’m aware of when I’m slipping out of control. But I’m also just a very lonely person and I am entirely consumed by a giant void inside of me. Sometimes I do okay, and sometimes I slip, and I’m alright with that. At this present moment in time I’m at peace with the person I’ve become and the person I’ve been for the last decade.

What I will do is learn about writing structure, because this post has been a whole ass journey huh?

I’d say happy new year but time is a concept, designed by humans to give us an inane understanding of change. Time is not, but it always has been and always will be. And I also do not want to admit to myself that I’m getting old(er).

Here’s hoping I make it out alive again.

[jozalynsharp]

Mo'Nique and Why She Should Be an Inspiration to Comics Everywhere and My Ex Who Told Me I Wasn’t Funny

      It's December 30th and my fiancee and I are filing into the MGM Garden Arena for the John Mayer/Dave Chappelle show. The energy in the room is vibrant. John comes out, plays some songs, and speaks on music with an expertise that made me fall in love with him as an artist all over again. Then Dave comes out. You can taste it in the air. Everyone in that room knows that someday they'll be telling their children about this experience. Dave tells 25 minutes of jokes then brings up the Netflix pay scandal. And he says to a sold out arena that "Mo'Nique is a legend.". After this weekend, I don't see how anyone can disagree with him. 

      I have been a fan of comedy my whole life. I have quite a few influences, but very few female ones. One of the biggest reasons I could even picture myself doing stand-up at all was Mo’Nique. When my friend found out what Mo'Nique meant to me he got me a ticket to see her new residency at the SLS.        Some of you are reading this confused because you don't know what she means to this metal music loving, comic book collecting, video game playing, raw comedian. If you can’t really wrap your head around it, it probably means you have never seen Mo'Nique LIVE in her element. And shame on you for having preconceived notions about me.

      When I was in my early 20's I was in a bad way. I had lost all self worth, was gambling in excess, and had garnered myself an opiate addiction. I was in a relationship that had me so down on myself, had me believing I was so worthless, I had begun to live my life as such. I stole Vicodin from wherever I could find it just so I could numb myself to the fact that I couldn’t find anything to love in the mirror anymore. I was adrift and I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, but I knew I loved comedy. I would watch hours of stand-up comedy and it would be my reprieve from the constant barrage of negative inner thoughts. I had been telling stories with my girlfriends one night, doing my best to make them laugh, and my oldest and dearest friend interrupted me. Her tone of voice would have made a lightbulb spontaneously appear over her head if we had been in a cartoon she sounded so revelatory. She pointed at me and said: “You should do stand-up comedy!”. And it clicked. That’s exactly what I wanted to do. Once I figured out how to make people laugh, I was always chasing the next punchline way before I even recognized what I was doing. I wasn’t ever the pretty girl or the popular girl. I was the smart girl. I hated being the smart girl. People just want to cheat off your paper and they only want to be your friend in class in case there’s a group project. And no one especially wanted to dry hump the smart girl, and that’s all I wanted out of a Friday night at 17. I knew that people that made me laugh made me want to dry hump. I knew that people who made me laugh made me feel butterflies. I also knew the feeling of making people laugh was like being dry humped by the whole offensive line on Homecoming night. I wanted people to see me and say I was the funniest girl they knew, but I was horrendously shy outside of my extra-curricular theater activities. Although I wanted to be clever and tell stories and make everyone laugh, my severe lack of confidence meant I only showed that side of myself to my closest friends. Add a unibrow and some very poor fashion choices to that mix and I wasn’t exactly screaming anything but “dork”. My friends loved me though. My family loved me. There was always someone around who would laugh at whatever commentary I was spewing or story I was re-enacting. So when my dearest friend, my most practical and level-headed friend, looked me right in my eyeballs and said: “You should do stand-up comedy.”. My heart exploded. The gears in my head all felt like they clicked into place. Not only had someone validated me as funny verbally for one of the first times in my life, but someone had also presented an idea so out of the realm of my reality that was exactly what I wanted out of life. Make people laugh every night onstage for my job? Um, YES PLEASE. Where do I submit my resume? Unfortunately in stand-up, there is no application. It is a sea of possibilities of ways to start and each one is more daunting than the next. So I decided to present this new dream to my boyfriend at the time. We had an extremely unhealthy relationship due to him being too young to take responsibility for the fact that he pressured me into a relationship he didn’t actually want to be in anymore, and I didn’t want to look myself in the mirror and admit just how wrong we were for each other. I had allowed myself to come to a place where one man had torn me down emotionally so severely that I didn’t even realize how abusive it was until I relayed the stories to people who loved me later. Now, don’t jump to crucify him. We were young, and everything about our relationship was wrong from jump. But that’s a story for another day. I remember looking across the table of a BJ’s Restaurant & Brewery at him. This was someone I thought I loved, and I was still so naive and young to think that people will behave the way they’re supposed to and not the way they are going to. As I’ve gotten older I’ve realized these are two very different things. I pushed my fries around on my plate and finally worked up the courage to say it. I couldn’t really bring myself to look at his face. I knew in my heart of hearts that whatever came out of his mouth following whatever I had to say would hurt me, because after a year together, I was finally starting to realize the difference between “supposed to” and “going to”. I faked nonchalance and spoke as if it was a silly idea I was presenting for conversation’s sake. “I’m thinking of trying stand-up comedy.”, and I laughed nervously waving my fork around to punctuate “stand-up comedy”. He didn’t even look up from his food. His body didn’t react. He only shoved another forkful of food into his mouth and said through a twice baked potato: “Why? You’re not funny.”. And then I thought to myself: “Well he must be right. He’s spent everyday with you for a year. Surely, if you were funny he’d be the one to know.”, and I moved on with my life.

I moved on right up until I came across a comedy special called “I Coulda Been Your Cellmate” from the star of one of my favorite movies: “Phat Girlz”. The concept of this comedy special alone shook me to my core. Mo’Nique doing stand-up for hundreds of inmates inside of a women’s prison. How could someone make people laugh in that situation? It seemed impossible.

Then the special started, and she could have done a funny sketch or just launched right into the jokes. However, as I have since learned, this is not her style. She spent the first part of this comedy special giving a voice to these women who will spend most of their natural lives behind bars. Mo’Nique took her time in the spotlight right then to highlight what is broken about prison and the so-called rehabilitation system. At one point an inmate asks her why she came there, and what she said next forever changed the way I looked at our prison system. It also forced me to confront my own inner prejudices against those who’ve been or are incarcerated. I hadn’t opened my heart to their humanity. Growing up in a conservative small town, I had only thought of them as less than decent people, and hadn’t considered how they got there. What tragedy had befallen their lives to drive them to where they were today? My heart ached with a newfound sympathy. Her statement was so profound to me I haven’t forgotten it in ten years: “We live in a society that threw you away, and they said you weren’t worthy and you weren’t valuable and that you were trash. I don’t believe that.” Soon the shot transitions to a stage built outdoors and a crowd of female inmates all wearing different colors to designate their danger or security threat. Mo’Nique then came onstage and took control. She would bring you right to the point of a real “a-ha” moment about us and our society. Then she would hit you with a punchline so funny and so unexpected, I was snort laughing by myself in my living room. Slapping my leg and cackling like an old prospector who just found Gold and couldn’t believe his luck. Now, I could write a massive amount on this special alone, but I’m here to talk about the NOW. I took this trip down memory lane to paint a picture of who I was when Mo’Nique’s stand-up got inside my craw. Because shortly after seeing this, I packed my bags and left. She had said right into that camera that she had been told she wasn’t good enough over and over, and yet here she stood more than good enough. There she stood, a success in her own right. So I loaded myself and my dog onto a plane bound somewhere far away from the man who told me I wasn’t good enough both in life and in my ambition.

Fast forward a few years and I move to Las Vegas, Nevada. My first friend (and still to this day friend) was none other than Bobby Wayne Stauts. He introduced me to a world of amateur stand-up that I didn’t even know existed. I wanted to be a part of it so badly, that I spent three weeks just going out to shows and open mics and befriending comics. Some of my friends who are reading this are like, “Jozalyn, you SURE did ‘befriend’ some of those comics.” and to them I say: Go Befriend Yourself. Then a friend put me on stage one night for 3 minutes and the rest is, as they say, history. Now, let’s jump ahead in the timeline one last time to last week. My friend takes me to see Mo’Nique at her new residency at the SLS. I’m euphoric at the thought of seeing the woman who taught me how to clap back at bullies in “Phat Girlz” and inspired me to shut out the people saying I wasn’t going to be good at stand-up. Her opener Correy Bell had me laughing so hard I almost lost a strip of eyelashes because I was crying. Then, Mo’Nique came out. Gorgeous and statuesque, her smile lit up the whole room, she danced her way to that microphone and before we knew it we were all on our feet dancing with her. Just sharing in a moment of pure joy. No judgement, no pretensions, just everyone in a room feeling unbridled joy at exactly the same moment. She did exactly what I fell in love with her for from the beginning. She made us laugh, she made us cry, and she made us think. She challenged her own belief systems, she challenged our belief systems, and she challenged how we treat each other. She told stories so raw and so real, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her because her pure vulnerability was beautiful.

Then the meet and greet comes. I am sweating and nervous. You don’t often get to meet personal heroes, but I can tell you when I do I want to vomit. Did I do that? No I just cried uncontrollably while standing in a line full of people drinking and dancing. I realize now that Mo’Nique being the thing that pulled me out of traumatic experience also meant that she would take me back there for a moment. And the tears that flooded down my face, the same tears that threaten to fall as I write this, were tears of gratitude. This woman inspired me to chase my dreams in a very real way. It comes my turn and she hugs me deeply and says some things into my ear that I will keep with me forever. I will to write them here, or anywhere because they are mine. When she speaks to you, you just know some things are for you and that moment. Then she pulls away and lets me tell her my story. I walked away knowing I’d never forget this experience. As lucky as I felt then, I then am lucky enough to be invited to do a guest set a few days later. She sends for me when I arrive. I walk into her dressing room and she smiles at me. She squeezes my hand and says “Hello, baby.” and I remind myself that if I cry in front of Mo’Nique again she’s gonna think I’m a crazy person. So I choke back those tears and smile and say hello back. Her energy is palpable. I feel so positive and comfortable, I just know the night is going to be fun. And it was. It was one of my favorite performing experiences to date. I got to watch her bring the house down and I went home that night giving a middle finger to all those people who said “Never meet your heroes.”.

I will save a lot of the memories of that night for me. They are special to me and I don’t believe everything is meant to be shared. I believe some things are meant to be cherished and don’t need repeating. However, there are some things from that night that made me think that a lot of comics, not just female comics, I know could take a page out of the Mo’Nique handbook. Here’s what I took away from this experience:

Don’t be afraid to be real. She showed us her heart and it made those laughs feel so very good. It felt like laughing with your favorite cousin who you only get to see once a year for the holidays. It felt like laughing with that person in your life who you laugh so hard with every time you hang out and only you guys think each other is funny. It felt so very good. A pure laugh that sits in your belly and came from your heart.

Be good to people. All of her messages can be summed up in one message: “Be better to each other”.

And love those who love you. She spent real genuine time with each of her fans that stayed for the meet and greet. She hugged us like she lost us in the grocery store and thought we got snatched up. She didn’t fade. She gave every one of those people 110% of her right up until the moment she walked offstage. Hell, for all I know she was back there hugging the staff and giving them all those positive vibes she seems to be made of.

The fourth thing that I took away was how much she cared that the experience was good for me. She check on me FOUR times before my set. She even apologized for interrupting me while I was reading my notes. She checked on me and made me laugh and showed me love before I even touched the microphone. She didn’t need me to prove that I was funny before she treated me with kindness and love. She did it because I was, as she says, her “Sister in Comedy”.

Comics can so often can ascribe their personal feeling on a comic’s “talent” to how they feel about a person. Deigning them to be “hack” or an “open micer” or “not funny” somehow making them less worthy of kindness it seems. How many of us check on someone we’ve never seen go up even once before they do a guest set on our show? And no I’m not counting you saying “Tight five. Be funny and I'll light you at four.” as checking on them.

And finally, the last thing that I will hold with me for as long as I am in this crazy industry was what she said when I thanked her for the opportunity. I will hold onto this as a principle in my life. It is the kind of person we should all aspire to be. She took my hand and said: “Just promise me that when you’re where I’m at, you’ll reach your hand out to the next little girl trying to make her way and help her up.”.