#i like the concept of stone being the clueless old person when it comes to internet slang and stuff and robotnik suddenly
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catboythanatos · 14 days ago
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the tiktok trend thats like "making our parent read brainrot phrases" but its streamer robotnik making stone read them ok thank you
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soft-for-them · 4 years ago
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a cup of tea for the handsome man ♡ geordi la forge x reader
anon: OKAY concept: Geordi had a failed valentines date, and reader (who crushes hard) is like “bruh hang out with MEEE” a la Taylor swifts “you belong with me”
gender neutral reader, geordi ain’t straight,
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gif doesn’t really match but it’s cute ok! not proof read.
‘Maybe you can accompany my friend Geordi La Forge today.’ Data bluntly asks as you both walk down a stone covered street.
‘Data, I swear to the stars, stop!’ you whine to your android friend who currently still wears his yellow dress uniform despite it being shore leave.
‘I am only asking because Geordi seems to be by himself.’ Data holds up the cat carrier that he holds, wiggling his finger to Spot, ‘Please calm down Spot.’
You are Lieutenant (Y/n) (l/n), though most people call you (y/n) and ever since you have met Data you have both been found friends. You are interested in robotics and androids, so the friendship came naturally.
However, Data doesn’t have many out of work friends. He mostly hangs around you, Spot and a very handsome man by the name of Geordi La Forge.
‘Just because I’m your friend does not mean I’m automatically his, Data.’ You tug at the draw strings of your oversized hoodie straighten the out strings.
‘Yes, but you are technically mutuals for you both have me as your friend.’ Data looks at you with a blank stare, ‘And you are normally alone so you need another friend.’
If you haven’t been friends with the yellow tinted man then you would have told him off.
It is somewhat true; you do spend a lot of time in engineering and most of your really good friends are stationed on different ships. But you want to spend you shore leave on earth doing something fun, not awkwardly trying to befriend Geordi La Forge, a man you have fancied for quite a while.
If Data has some more common sense the he would see your heart eyes towards his dear friend but he doesn’t; all he sees is a hermit engineer who needs a buddy whilst Data isn’t around.
‘Data, why has this come on? I’m alone most of the time!’ you have plans and it doesn’t involve trying not to out your crush to a clueless Geordi or Data.
‘I just do not want my friends be lonely.’
Data’s eyebrows frown as you two stop in front of a veterinary practice.
‘Just because me and Geordi will be alone when you take Spot to get her check-up doesn’t mean we will be lonely.’
‘But you will both be alone.’ he deliberates.
‘We will be fine Data.’ You place a hand on your friend’s arm, ‘If you want, we can all meet up after Spot’s check up and I can officially meet Geordi, ok?’
‘I would like that very much (y/n).’ Data sincerely smiles.
He nods his head and then walks into the small vets.
 You shake you head in amusement at your dear friend’s worry as you begin walking down the street.
‘Data, data, data.’ You think with an amused smile blooming on your face.
For about ten minutes you wonder the streets aimlessly, looking at the plants that grown up the shop fronts and the old Roman roads. Benches are in the middle of the ‘roads’ that are really used for pedestrians to walk on, tram cars sliding by the painting like scenery.
Whilst wondering a small alleyway catches your eyes.
It’s not a dingy alleyway with bins and a dead end but it’s actually a little nook filled with cafes and small hobby shops.
Looking both ways you walk across the street into the alley, every bump of the pathway felt even in you tick soled trainers.
Passing a few shops your eyes land on a small round of metal tables, some filled with people, outside a small two-story café.
You walk in, a heartly woman automatically greeting you from the counter at the back. The place is very small and thin but it does not feel claustrophobic. There is a cottage core vibe to it, the place lit up by the huge widows at the front and the fairy lights shaped like hearts.
The downstairs seems to be the place to order food and drink, a peak of a small kitchen at the back can be seen from an open door past the counter.
‘Um hello.’ You say back to the woman whilst you wipe your feet on the welcome mat, ‘What’s good here?’
‘Well first are you allergic to anything my dear?’
You answer the question and tell the woman what kind of tea you like.
‘Well because today is Valentine’s day, we have our cake special that I think is perfect for you!’
You look at the slice of cake the woman points at in the little display case.
‘It’s freshly baked, I made it just this morning!’
‘Yeah, sure, it looks nice. I’ll have a slice.’ You need to indulge yourself every now and then.
She slides a cup of your favourite tea and a slice of cake to you. You pay with you card, leaving a good tip.
‘The upstairs is the best place sit.’ She says as you take your plate and cup.
 With a nod you ascend the steps to the upstairs to see the prettiest room you’ve ever seen.
The room’s roof is a giant glass window and there is many potted plants that look like they’re growing up the walls. Tables are littered around, each one with a different flower on it, some customers are using the built in holo computer screens.
You find a small two four person table near the back and you sit down breathing in the faint smell of pollen that doesn’t actually tickle your nose into a sneeze.
‘Hum, could be fake plants?’ you think as you take a sip of your tea.
.
.
For a while you just eat and browse the holo screen at your table, emersed and doom scrolling through blogs about robotics.
You had sent a message to Data telling him where you are and telling him to come here when he was done with Spot’s check up.
It must have been half an hour at staring at the screen. You had finished the pink decorated cake and your tea was almost done as well.
With achy eyes you peer up and look around the room.
There seems to be the same people albeit a couple new faces.
In on corner to your right is a mother with her child who you hadn’t noticed, an older person sits clicking on old keyboard laptop and a new younger man sits waiting next to the giant window overlooking the alleyway.
Even though this man is far away you can tell that he’s a good looking man. Said person wears a short sleeve patterned button down reminiscent of the 1990’s, the blues stripes bold against the cottage core interior of the café. The shirt is tucked into some brown slacks, that are rolled up at the bottom and held up by a shiny black belt. Block coloured peek out from his trousers and equally shiny black shoes.
If you would try to pull off such a vintage outfit but all you ever wear is your work uniform or oversized hoodies, making you look like a in debt college student. Right now you look like a in debt college student in your Starfleet branded hoodie and shorts that are comfy but childish in colour scheme.
‘I bet this café attracts all the fashionable types.’ You think sipping the last of your tea only to spit out in surprise.
The man in the retro shirt turns around only to reveal a very familiar yellow and silver visor.
‘Fuck, he’s even more good looking!’ your mind becomes scrambled, ‘Was he always there? Does he know I’m here? Should I go over and say hi?’
Your eyes stay on Geordi as he keeps on peering out of the big window, him looking like he’s waiting for someone.
‘Maybe he’s waiting for Data?’ it’s a logical assumption that Data told him to meet him in the café you are in. A check up for a cat doesn’t take that long right?
 You leave you cup and plate on you table and start to edge your way over to the handsome man.
You’re not sure if what you’re doing is right but you step next to his table, with a big smile on your face and hand raised up in a too enthusiastic wave.
‘Geordi La Forge, right?
Geordi’s snaps up to yours, his face looks slightly confused in that puppy kid of way.
‘Sorry, I’m (y/n), Data’s friend.’ you stop waving so you don’t look so odd, ‘Um, I saw you here and wanted to say that Data will be coming here after Spot’s vet appointment. Sooooo, if you want to join, my table is free.’
Whilst you happily talk Geordi’s face morphs into a sweet smile. You quickly look down to his two person table to see to sets of cups and two slices of heart themed cupcakes, clearly for another half.
‘Though you don’t have too if you have plans.’
‘He talks about you a lot.’ Geordi declares, ‘Too much sometimes.’
‘Well I am a brilliant person.’ you lean against the window trying to look cool but the hoodie you drown in just makes you look dishevelled.
There is an awkward pause before you just stop leaning as start walking away.
‘I see you might be busy, so I’m over here-‘ you point over to your table, ‘-yeah.’
With some more muttered pleasantries you shuffle back to your table hoping tha he doesn’t find you too weird. With you bum on the seat you wave you hand at the holo screen unlocking it from it’s sleeping state before quickly looking up to catch Geordi looking at you.
With another odd wave you hunch down and resume reading an article cybernetic enhancements in the medical field but every ten minutes or so you have to look up at Geordi.
One time you looked up he was staring out the window, another time he was stirring his drink like it was the most interesting thing in the world, and now you’re looking at him rapidly typing out something on a communicator.
With your tea and cake devoured you quickly stand up to go downstairs to order some more tea. You look around and hope that no one takes your table, the tope floor is pretty empty now, and the holo screen on the table is still on.
It takes about five minutes but you bound up the stairs with not one but two cups of tea.
Hurried you head over to Geordi’s table and slide him one of you cups, making the man look up to you with another look of confusion.
‘Hot tea turned cold isn’t the best so I got you another cup.’ and with another small wave you walk back your table.
‘Smooth (y/n), he’s going to like me now!’ a Cheshire cat grin blooms as you take a sip of you drink.
As you fangirl/fanboy over your ‘move’ a person slides in the seat opposite you.
 ‘Is it still ok to sit.’ Geordi asks holding his cup of tea.
‘Well you’re technically already sitting down.’ you turn of the holo screen with your hand, ‘But you can stay, if that’s what you’re asking.’
You look at Geordi, gaze unchanged, confidence oozing out of you.
‘I’d imagine that Data will be here soon.’ you lean forward a bit, ‘So we should acquaint each other before he does.’
‘I guess you already know who I am. I know who you are… thank you for the tea by the way.’
‘I don’t want to be a nosy so and so but why were you alone.’ You ask hoping you don’t sound rude.
‘I can ask the same thing to you.’ He quips back.
‘Had nothing to do and went exploring, found thing place. You?’ you press.
‘I got stood up.’ He plainly puts it, ‘Was chatting to someone in engineering and yeah…’
Geordi looks deflated as he gulps his drink.
‘Which dick stood you up, I can set my robot on them.’ he looks up at you with a bright smile.
‘You have a robot?’
‘It’s my thing.’
Another pause o silence happens before Geordi speaks.
‘Lieutenant James Sibell.’ as he says the name a disgusted scoff comes from you lips, your face distorted in disgusted.
‘That bastard man!’ you hand fly up in a comical rage, ‘Good job you have me to keep you company.’
Geordi laughs at your words, a small pit of joy growing in his heart, he must tell Data later that he has a good friend in you and that he should have introduced you two sooner.
.
.
Data step up the stairs of the café, spot in her cat carrier, and a slice of cake.
He only bought the cake out of curiosity, the cake having rainbow icing and little sugar heart shaped sweets on top.
When he gets to the top he automatically scans the room. His eyes land on a table near the back, his two closets friends chatting together, both sitting rather close.
.
.
.
i have no clue if this is good. it’s long-ish but that doesn't necessarily equate to it being the best.
please tell me if it’s good or not.
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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago
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Goof Week: Goof Troop: Forever Goof Review (Everything’s Coming Up Goofy, Good Neighbor Goof, Gotta Be Gettin Goofy) (Commission for WeirdKev27)
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Yahhahhooooeeeey all you happy people!  WELCOME TO GOOF WEEK! Now normally when a character who got their start in theatrical shorts has a birthday, I do a marathon of them. I have since last year with Donald and it’s one of my favorite things: it allows me to explore Disney’s rich history of them I was largely unaware of till Disney+, and allows me to revisit the shorts I grew up with in the case of The Looney Tunes or Tom and Jerry while discovering new favorites. SO naturally with Goofy’s birthday in two days I intended to do the same for him, especially since I’d covered Donald and Mickey the same way.
But fate had other ideas. Not thinking about this tradition, Kev, my patreon, friend and the guy who commissions a LOT of reviews from me ($5 an episode if your curious and I WILL make room on the schedule so your commission gets done as soon as possible), suggested reviewing the Goof Troop pilot movie Forever Goofy, later split into the episode Everything’s Coming Up Goofy and Good Neighbor. I loved the idea since I genuinely loved Goof Troop, and decided to do both that week.
It’s then I got a great idea.. why limit myself to JUST doing two things? I hit my 15 dollar patreon stretch goal, so a review of the Goofy Movie was on the Horizon anyway, and for it’s anniversary year Kev has been commissioning House of Mouse Episodes, so it wouldn’t be THAT much of an ask (and it wasn’t) to simply randomly select from a pool of Goofy-Centric episodes instead of all the episodes. 
Thus GOOF WEEK was born, and Kev once again proved vital to all this by suggesting the special Sports Goof from the 80′s. I’d like to give him special thanks as outside of the Shorts Special, which as a patreon he still got to pick one and if you’d like to pick one for Donald’s special, sign on up even one dollar patreons get the honor. , this week is either entirely paid for by him or in the case of A Goofy Movie, is partly thanks to him. I wouldn’t be able to do NEARLY as many reviews nor make money off this without you bud, so thank you. 
So naturally given the idea to do this two parter gave me the idea for this week and that Goofy Movie makes a logical finale for said week, it only made sense to start the week with Goof Troop. Bop-dop-da-da-do-bop, YEAH. 
Goof Troop is the first Disney Afternoon show I ever watched and the only one I watched when I was younger, as Disney Channel used to play it ocasinally when I was younger and Toon Disney would do the same and I even got to Marthoon it when Disney XD did a weekend marathon. Given it starred my faviorite Disney Character, Donald hadn’t worked his way up to tying with him quite yet, I loved what I could grab of it. And as an adult.. it still holds up. It has problems i’ll get into, but it is a real good time so I was exastic to get an excuse to watch some of it and much like with Darkwing wish I had sooner. 
Before I can h-h-h-hit it though, I have to talk about the series history. I ALMOST didn’t find anything: much like the other Disney Afternoon shows there really wasn’t much on the Disney wiki nor wikipedia, google turned up nothing... it wasn’t till I went to the Tv Tropes Trivia Page for the series, where i’d remembered reading about some early versions of the show, that I hit gold: A two part behind the scenes blog post by series co-creator Michael Peraza. You can find part one HERE and part two HERE. It’s a short but fascinating read. 
Speaking of fascenating Peraza himself is someone i’d never heard of till reading this article but damn if he isn’t a legend. Seriously the guy’s career is as an unsung hero, starting work under the Legendary Nine Old Men, and working on some of disney’s greatest films: The Great Mouse Detective, Aladdin, The LIttle Mermaid, and Beauty and the Beast, along with live action cult classics Tron and Return to Oz via concept art. And concept art is where he’d hit his stride: he did conceptual work for all the big Disney Afternoon shows apart from Gargoyles, being one of the key guys in the early days of Disney Television animation. He didn’t stop at just designing things either as he worked as Art Director for Ducktales, The Proud Family and of course given how vital he was to it’s creation, Goof Troop, and to this days gives lectures with his wife to aspiring animators. He even did some guest work for the 2017 Ducktales Episode “Treasure of the Found Lamp!”. So yeah dude’s awesome
So how did he come to be a key part of this show’s creation? Well he’d just finished up some concept work on some other Disney Afternoon shows, and being a company man was glad to report to the Goof Troop..ers to help as the show was having trouble getting off the ground. The reason for this was the creative exec, who Peraza didn’t name out of kindness as the guy wasn’t a BAD person.. just a clueless one, this being his first job in film and tv.  As such rather than work hard to develop around goofy or focus on his strengths the kid threw out one concept after another: The series got it’s name from a pitch that had Goofy as a scoutmaster, something I was glad to finally know. To quote Peraza
“ Although while I was doodling versions of the show that were destined to never see the light of the TV screen,  the pitch date remained etched in stone and kept creeping closer. Various versions would find their way to the surface only to sink again into the wasteland known as the roundfile (trashcan). One moment Goofy was the Captain of the Fire Department, the next day a detective out of the Maltese Falcon mold, or a swash buckling hero fighting The Flying Dutchman. 
The supporting cast he came up with really wasn't very supportive when you consider they sometimes included alien dragon babies with wings along with a large gorilla. Somebody at Walt Disney Television Animation must have really had a thing for giant gorillas around this time as they were plugged into almost every concept we  assembled.”
It was clear that while Goofy COULD fit into just about anything, this exec was just throwing everything at the wall, nothing was sticking, and rather than try to refine his supporting cast, they kept having to throw them out and start over. And dont’ get me wrong, cartoons go through a lot of development and changes as they go.. but it’s usually born from a concept and usually by this point, they at least have what the show will be ABOUT in stone. While i’ve had the same creative changes and what not when coming up with projects that ultimately never saw the light of day, and currentlly some I hope to but might not, I’m not being paid by a studio to do this nor had a hard deadline. I was just spitballing trying to get something anything off the ground before reviewing gave me a steady outlet for my creativity and thus ballanced me to take my time with stuff. Peraza WAS turning out amazing art, like this concept art for the fireman pitch that honeslty makes me want to see it as a series. Who DOSEN’T want to see 9-11 with Goofy as the main character? Throw in Donald and grown up versions of Max, PJ and PIstol (And even not THAT much for the former two, as they did go off to college and all), don’t forget Roxanne this time out and you have a worthy goofy movie sequel. 
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So yeah this wasn’t working and the latest pitch was not great: Putting Goofy in ToonTown as a cabbie driving the Cab from Who Framed Roger Rabbit. As Peraza TRIED to point out to the exec, putting Goofy in a naturally goofy setting didn’t really play to the characters strength, his whole shtick being a goofus in a normal world. Enough of an every man to root for but also a slapstick joly weirdo. 
The executive’s INCREDIBLY douchey response, especially since Peraza was a Disney Vetran at this point and had spent quite a lot of time on Ducktales, so he knew what he was talking about was “Do it anyway and leave the “Visionary” part to me”
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As you can tell by MR. OOC there, this might be one of the most punchable sentences i’ve ever read. 
So Peraza wasn’t in a great place and was naturally terrified when he got a call from Gary Krisel, president of Disney TVA, asking about the show and to see him about it. 
Turns out though Krisel was a nice guy who already had a great working relatinship with Peraza, and genuinely wanted to know what was going on there and wanted his honest opinion. It’s why i’m not AGAINST executives in animation as sometimes they can come in when somethings clearly not working or allow a smooth transition of power if a propelmatic creator has to be booted off their own show so the show and i’ts crew don’t suffer as a result. It’s just more often than not they cause headaches or cancel shows for entirley stupid or self motivated reasons. But I will give credit where it’s do and point out times where there NOT stupid or homophobic or what have you and this is indeed one of those times. 
Peraza was indeed straight with him: pointing out all the concepts they’d gone through, and like with the other guy honestly gave his opinon the ToonTown Pitch wasn’t working.. and he not only agreed but asked Peraza himself, actually respecting his experince instead of yelling at him that he has a vision that wouldn’t last the end of the day probably. 
Peraza was HOPING this was where this was going and gladly gave him a far less high concept pitch and one truer to the character, quoted in full bellow:
“ My spiel went as follows, "Goofy is a recognized star of Disney animation, so why re-invent the wheel? His son is an average kid dealing with many of the usual issues they face: peer pressure, young love, grades, school bullies, and so on. On top of all that, he has the zaniest, wackiest GOOFIEST dad to live down. No matter how insane the situations get though, they will always love each other. They're a family." Gary asked how I would pitch it and I replied, "It's ONE day in  the life of Goofy and son. From getting up in the morning to fixing breakfast, we see their difference side by side as his son tries to distance himself. No matter what though he knows deep inside that his father will always be there for him, whether he likes it or not."
If your wondering if Peraza noticed that that original pitch line is basically the peremise and emotioinal core of The Goofy Movie down pat.. your extremley correct and he notes that the film was based on said pitch even if he had no involvment with it that I could tell. The series would still use this but the whole embarasment aspect was toned down, and honestly fit a teenager better than an 11 year old.. 
So the exec loved it and Peraza shaped the core of the series: the idea of having Pete as his nemisis, pete having a nuclear family including a gorgeous wife, and the show being more slice of life and what not. He made some great sketches, got roaring approval and then pitched it to rousing success and the rest is history. Goof Troop was a moderate success and The Goofy Movie after it is a classic beloved by all. We have this wonderful man to thank for all that and I also thank him , on the offchance he ever sees this, for bringing Goofy into modern times in a way that did the man-dog justice.  It’s thank to you we got this fun series, two great movies, and a goofy the way he is today: the best of everything about him rolled into one. Thanks man, free review.. not htat you NEED It since you’ve worked on things i’ve covered and what not, but I feel like I should offer.  Outside of Peraza, I found one last bit of making of stuff before I get to the premiere proper. These two early concept shots:
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The first has Max who both looks older and has red hair like he did in the shorts. Honestly I see a lot of his Goofy Movie self in thiis design, the only diffrence obviously being the red hair which was wisely changed to make the boy look more like goofy, something kept for the movie. 
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The more intresting one is this shot of the Pete’s. Starting with Pete he’s more athletic and has a perfectly tacky outfit. While changing him to be a bit more slovenly honestly fit this version of the character better, I do wish they’d kept hte outfit as the tacky gold and green jacket, the gold chain, the open ollar.. it all fits this version of pete so well, as well as his illusion of being a big shot when he is in fact a medium one. Peg is both slightly younger looking and far more doting and is so different I swear this picture looks like Pete remarried after the divorce and got some lipo. Pistol has about the same design but with a vastly different, more Isabella-ish outfit. Finally we have PJ who looks the same, but has a diffrent outfit and a far more sour demeanor, probably meant to be a bully. My best guess is sthis stuff comes from the pitch, and was likely made to simply get the basic premise across before fine tuning the characters for series
So with all of that out of the way i’m calling eveyrone to join in the fun under the cut and report to the Goof Troop. 
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Everything’s Coming Up Goofy:
Our first episode opens in a small but cozy trailer, where Goofy’s cooking up lunch as only goofy could: by making osme meatballs then serving them to his son over a game of table tennis, with Max doing the same. It’s really freaking adorable, and a dynamic i’m not used to since i’m more familiar with Teen Max. Seeing Max genuinely get into his dad’s hyjinks and enjoy them.. it just warms the heart and adds weight to The Goofy Movie by knowing there was a time the two really were thick is thieves before the stygian hole that is high school drained all that out of him. 
So the two are like buddies and pals until the Mailman arrives, not even phased at this point. Turns out it’s a Diploma, and with this Goofy can get a job he’s been up for in Spoonerville and plans to move immediately. Max is devisated he’ll loose his friends and runs away to use a magical mystery box to keep them together only to end up in a land full of frogs with an old man who sounds like his dad minus the drawl and two other tinier frogs and ... I may have the wrong show. In fairness you try dislodging a finale where Keith David runs a 13 year old through with laser sword and then talk to me. 
Goofy is sympathetic though: While he seems a tad oblivous to Max’s worries, it’s very clear he’s jumping on this job and this move so far to give his son a better life. Sure he runs through all the cartoon moving away talking points that don’t work in real life or most other cartoons such as there being a nice lake and that max can make new friends, and Max accepts it weirdly fast because this episode is only 22 minutes and they don’t have time for that subplot... but it’s clear the idea of a better paying job, a secure home not in an alleyway, and some stablility for his son is the real reason Goofy’s doing this, and he probably wants to simply give the boy the childhood he had growing up. 
Meanwhile in Spoonerville, we meet Pete. To my shock this is where Jim Cummings took over the roll he was born for and has played since and with good reasons as Cummings is just amazing with Pete no matter the incarnation and excels here  his penchant for playing jerks, hams and gravely voiced guys all coalesicing. Pete is planning on building what modern toxicly masculine weirdos such as himself would call a Man Cave on his lawn, because Pete is a very SPECIAL kind of douchebag. He also plans to stretch it into the neighboring property, tear down the house there and set it up. 
This is news to his wife Peg, played by fellow voice acting Legend whose stillg ot it, April Winchell in her star making role. Peg is Pete’s strong willed wife who dosen’t put up with her husbands crap.. you know that trope that infected sitcoms for kids and adults of the doofy husband whose either a manchild , a skeevy self serving quipy asshole or some horrible combination of the two. The kind that has still been so prevealant the wife from one of said sitcoms helped produce a show about the wife finally doing the logical thing and plotting to kill the bastard. No really.. that’s an actual thing that’s happening. It’s even got a Little Bit of Alexis as Anne Murphy plays the poor, poor wife. 
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And why yes the series is called Kevin Can Fuck Himself. And why yes said former sitcom wife was the same one on a sitcom called Kevin Can Wait who was fired because they wanted to retool the show with the wife from Kevin James other sitcom. That also is very really a thing that happened. Payback is a bitch aint it? Fun too. 
But yeah from minute one Pete is a terrible husband: Peg is a realtor and thus is trying to sell the house because it’s her fucking job instead of letting her husband throw their family deep in debt to very likely illegally demolish a house so he has a giant yard to play in. I mean even if this is all played for jokes i’ts just not funny enough to not make him an utter bastard. The fact his response to her VERY valid criticism and subtextual worry he doesn’t’t take her career seriously is to fake a panic attack, from a very REAL tendency he turns out to have giant breakdowns under stress, to try and guilt her into letting him have his giant public man cave just backs this up.. as does the fact she simply glares at the camera as he’s clearly DONE this before. 
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Since I have to put up with this version of him for the rest of this episode, the next, AND a portion of the movie, i’m proudly introducing the Pete Sucks Counter. This will carry over to any other appearances of the guy from here on out. So that’s one for his insane plan, one for disrespecting his wife’s career and one for faking a panic attack to try and win an argument Pete Sucks Counter: 3
So because this episode ran short Peg caves and compromises: He can have the property if it isn’t sold by 9. So Pete does what ANY husband would do: uses his spy camera and booby traps he’s set up in the other house to try and scare away prospective buyers. 
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Yeah.. while the show TRIES to have Pete not as his old-timey villian self.. they traded in for him being fucking MODOK. I mean he is a grotesque monstrosity who has a nuclear family and spends all his time in a chair thing and can barely function as a Husband or Father. Though at least I can belivie MODOK LOVES his family which not so much with Pete. 
To prove this Pete tries using a fake spider to scare some buyers then CALLS THEM TELLING THEM PEG IS A CON ARITST. I.e. something that if they mention to her bosses could get her FIRED. He respects his wife’s autonomy, what she wants and what she’s asked him for, which is a fair shot to sell the place before he tries to wreck the place, as well as likely what his neighbors want. I mean I can accept breaks from reality for comedy, snakebird is my boy. 
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So I can accept pete has this stuff.. I just can’t find it funny when these shenanignas very transparently show that while he surface level loves his wife he dosen’t respect her or actually listen to her except when she gets angry. He IS the villian so he’s still a slight step among monst sitcom dads but i’ts not great. I can find it funny that his den also functions as a super villian lair though. That shit will never not be great. Also Pete Sucks Counter: 6 For the record: one for the spider itself, one for having traps set up in a property hat both isn’t his and his wife is trying to sell and another for threatening her job and her self esteem as she is baffled at what she possibly did wrong. 
So Goofy and Max get on the road, leaving moving the rest of their stuff to an old coot whose a friend of theres. So it’s goodbye Duckburg, Hello Spoonerville! And yes I headcanon this as Duckburg. Goof Troop is one of two shows that very clearly happened in SOME form, the other being Tailspin, the only difference being the time period (Goof Troop taking place in the 90′s and Tailspin in the 30′s or 40′s) and any adjustments for clashes with the 2017 verse. So going off that, we also know Donald and the boys KNOW goofy and didn’t remotely question his presence, as did the rest of the cast. 
So figuring out the timeline, Goofy likely met Donald in college, even if he never finished college as per an Extremley Goofy Movie, which may not happen the same exact way given Goofy still has his old job and may not loose it in this timeline, though i’d like to think he still meets Sylvia. But point is he drops out, possibly to marry Max’s mom, they end up moving to Duckburg for her work, she sadly dies, and Goofy is left raising Max alone. Donald and Goofy likely bonded as single parents struggling in low paying 9-5 jobs. Goofy left here, likely said goodbye to Donald and the 5 or so year old boys offscreen , and left. As for how anyone else knows him that’s simple: he probably visits whenever he can.  He’s a good friend, genuinely loves Donald like a brother in all continuities, and of course would show up with a progressively more then less grumpy Max every time. As for what I think the rest of the cast would think of him: Scrooge would hate him for his disaster area ways, but at least respect him as a hard worker, he just wouldn’t personally hire him which is.. it’s fair. Beakley would be aggravated by him. Webby would of course like him because she’s essentially him but competent and gay, and Launchpad and him .. god that’d be a joy to see. And drive up Scrooge’s insurance. Della would also like him obviously. I”m really disappointed we didn’t get a season 4 if for nothing else the fact we probably would’ve got another Goofy episode. It also feels weird he’s not in the finale in any way shape or form you know? Why have such a big guest spot for him and then just not bring him or Max back? GIVE ME MORE MAX DISNEY DAMN YOUUUUU So they move right along with Goofy excited to get back to where he once belonged, and to call Pete with the good news on his 90′s cell phone. Pete is utterly TERRIFIED finding out Goofy Comin and tries to send him off course to prevent it. Naturally despite nearly running into a truck, Goofy makes it to Spoonerville by evening anyway and we get a delightful bit that shows off BilL Farmer’s comedy skills as he rapidly lists off all the things in town while driving Max through town. It’s so damn smooth. This also is notable since before this farmer had just played the character in some DTV music videos, which stands for Disney not Denton but god I now want Shock Treatment with the Disney Crew. I mean who wouldn’t want Donald as Brad, Daisy as Janet, and Gladstone as Farley Flavors I ask you. Not sure who every one else would be i’m sorting that out. And if you don’t know what Shock Treatment is, here have this trailer with a nightmarish opening. 
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Dammit now I want to watch Shock Treatment again... so I am. Found it in full on YouTube, and I feel no shame in sharing that as it’s not on VOD, nor any streaming service, the DVD, which I own, is out of print, and the Blu Ray is a UK exclusive. This film both needs to be seen more and needs another proper US release damn it!
So naturally Goofy somehow finds Pete’s house.. I dunno maybe Peg’s been sending him letters. Can’t blame her for having a wondering eye long as she dosen’t act on it. She’s married to a walking lump of ego, selfishness and cholesterol and likely only held on as long as she did for the kids. Which for the record Peg as a child of divorce whose parents got divorced rather than keep up a sham marriage or anything.. it’s not worth it. I was MUCH happier that way in the long term. 
Anyways Peg and Goofy happily reunited while they awkardly try to get the kids to meet, with Goofy and PJ not warming up to each other at first, likely because Max just lost all his friends, and PJ clearly had none going into the series from context we’ll get later in the pilot. We also get a hilarious bit where Peg alternates between warmly greeting the goof’s and hilaroiusly shouting at Pistol to not play with worms.. in what honestly sounds like a protype for Miss Finster’s voice. 
Meanwhile the kids try to hide a small crack in Pete’s boat.. which he notices as he’s just about to steamroll the house despite NOT having asked Peg if she sold it yet and just assuming, possibly opening himself and her to a lawsuit
Pete Sucks Counter: 7
Discovering his boat is trashed, he has a comical panic attack, which I can forgive since this was 1992 and they weren’t as well known as a serious problem. Seriously while pete is a bastard man.. the animation on him is GORGEOUS as it is HILARIOUS, while Jim Cummings brings the hell out of it. He’s kept the roll for three decades as of next year for a reason. Goofy ends up accidently destroying his boat in the process of trying to help him as you’d expect. 
So Pete reluctantly lets the goofs sup with them.... and by reluctantly I mean he don’t wanna but Peg’s forcing him, which is pretty much the other half of their relationship in a nutshell: When pete isn’t lying and betraying her, Peg is forcing him to do stuff. As you can probably guess by how harsh i’ve been this aspect has aged INCREDIBLY poorly for me. This is your standard sitcom setup: asshole or dumbass or both dad, put upon wife who has to keep him in line.. but it’s just not how a GOOD marriage works and got so damn draining over time. Again and again we got things saying marriage is awful, comitting sucks unless your young, again and again. It’s why i’m REALLY happy we’ve been getting far better sitcom dad’s and marraiges lately. Bob’s Burgers is naturally the example, with the wife being the less sane one but both having their quriks and neither being so entirely dysfunctional you ever question the marriage. The Louds are another good example: Lynn Sr. And Rita NEVER right with each other that i’ve seen, have a perfectly happy relationship despite 11 kids, and wholly support each other, with Rita happily giving her husband the go ahead to quit his soul draining desk job so he could pursue his deream as a chef, and later letting him take a massive fincial gamble and open up a restraunt, purely because she belivied in him. Finally we have the Williams from Craig of the Creek who are easily one of the best married couples i’ve seen in western animation and one of them’s played by Terry Crews so that shoudln’t be a shock. I could prabobly find more but my points made: this trope REALLY ages the show poorly, more than any of hte 90′s specific tech or swinging theme song I just realized I forgot to talk about. Eh i’ll save it for the next episode. 
I have NEVER liked this trope anyway: only simpsons has really made it work for me and Family Guy did until they just stretched it too far, and with Simpsons at least they freqeuently have episodes pointing out how unehalthy it is. It dosen’t help this trope somehow STILL isn’t dead, as evidenced by the fact Rick and Morty has it in spades and for SOME damn reason got them back together.. I mean they don’t fight anymore but it dose’nt fix the problem. So yeah while I’m not holding against the show TERRRIBLY as this trope wasn’t as widespread at the time, it still dosen’t make it GOOD even at it’s core. 
Things get worse for Pete though as while Goofy praises him (And the Pete Kids rightfly wonder if Goofy is from space given the logic of ANYONE being that fond of pete. ) Pete finds out GOOFY bought the house he was going to demolish and will be staying with them till they move in. I have only one response to his misery....
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Max also futzes with the tv which you THINK would lead to Peg finding out her husband is the antagonist of a Blumhouse movie but instead just does nothing. 
So then we have Dinner where we find out SUPRISINGLY, Pete actually has a somewhat valid reason for resenting Goofy: Goofy cost him the big game in high school as Goofy and Peg were on the cheerleading squad together and Goofy accidently kicked pete in the face at a crucial moment, which Pete got the blame for. Granted I did say SOMEWHAT: Goofy is genuinely apologetic and says Pete shouldn’t of been blamed and Pete’s apparently been hiding the truth from his kids this whole time. I do call bullshit on that as while admittedly i don’t get into local football or any sportsball, Pete works at a dealership. At least one asshole would bring it up to either rile him up or out of genuine rage at something that happened at the very least a decade and a half ago. Pete hasn’t let go of this footbullshit DESPITE owning a successful dealership, having two wonderful children, an even more wonderful wife, and a friggin nice boat.  But really.. it speaks to Pete’s character in any version: His ultimate undoing is his greed, his tendency to keep going and never settle. It’s something he oddly shares with Donald but Pete lacks Donald’s’s heart or redeeming moments. Pete just wants and wants and wants no matter who gets hurt because he’s inehently selfish and will simply TAKE It if he can’t get it. But it’s why he’s miserable, and ultimately ends up divorced: He can’t be satisfised so he often looses what he has. 
So with Pete on the rampage Peg sends the boys upstairs. It’s here we get PJ’s first Woobie Moment: He has a room FULL of cool toys, comics and what not but his dad is such a greedy asshole he refuses to let the kid actually use them. He even knows this isn’t normal but is just resigned to it. Rob Paulsen is phenomenal as PJ, being funny and energetic, snarky and off to the side or depressed and fearful all with grace and ease and all making this all feel like the same sweet kid. 
I mention this because Paulsen’s action is so good it highlights an issue with PJ: the writers lean way too hard into how much a hardass Pete is, to the point the series, likely intentionally, HEAVILY implies he physically abuses pete and the stuff on screen isn’t over the top enough, at least for tehse episodes, to get away with how he emotionally abuses him either. He talks down to him, doesn’t let him play toys and as seen by various episode synopsis and the next episode, uses mind games to keep him in line. THIS is why I can’t stand this version of Pete. He’s an abusive monster to this poor boy and I won’t stands for it, nor it being played off as a joke, especially since they try to ping pong between using it for comedy and using it seriously which just.. doesn’t work. 
So Max earns his future best pals’ friendship by trying to help him.. and succeeding by pointing out that while he said not to use the Tank anywhere on the ground.. he didn’t mention the celling or walls and has the tank going up the walls. And clearly by the fact PJ is seen sleeping with it later, despite Petes’ss anger at this, Peg presumably ripped him a new one once she found out about the toys thing. 
So that night Pete can’t sleep with Goofy tromping around the house and tries to whack him with a Golf Club. I’d give him another sucks count.. 
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But given my brother lives in the basement and I sometimes accidently wake him by tromping overhead without meaning too, I DO get getting a bit fed up with someone clomping around and waking you up, and it is a slapstick cartoon so trying to physically assault someone is less of a crime here and more a setup for a punchline. 
So get an UTTERLY hilarious scene as teh combination fo tripping on golf balls and Goofy singing his family lullabye, camptown races with lyrics
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So Pete proceeds to have another freak out this time RUNNING ALL THE WAY TO DUCKBURG, THROWING THE OLD MAN OUT OF THE CAR AND THEN BRINGING IN THE GOOF’S BEDS AND BOXES BEFORE TOSSING THEM IN THE HOUSE. It is truly an amazing combination of Jim’s utter talent as he babbles hialriously and the animators as they just make it sing. It’s a great climax to part one. So with that the goofs are home and Pete semeingly gets to go to sleep.. until they start working on unpacking. 
Final Thoughts On Good Neighbor Goof:
This is an excellent start to the series. The jokes are really well paced, the characters well introduced and the humor top notch> I had my complaints obviously.. but i’ts more systemic issues with the series, and stuff that honestly it dosen’t hamper my viewing experience for the most part. The PJ stuff does, but it’s not as big a deal this episode as he barely interacts with his Dad, but otherwise it’s stuff that just hasn’t aged well and they can’t be faulted for not seeing a deluge of terrible sitcoms a comin. The cast is top notch: I didn’t get to them in the proper review so Dana HIll deserves praise as Max, giving just the right amount of 90′s TV Kid mixed with real honest emotion and i’ts a tragedy she’s gone. She would’ve been right up there with the rest of this amazing cast in history. Though at least she got a worthy succesor.. but that’s not for now. For now we’re taking an interlude to look at the wonderfully 90′s music video that was aired along with this special:
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Gotta Be Gettin Goofy:
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This was my raw reaction to this video. Now is it bad? No the song has great flow it somehow manages to scratch Bill Farmer’s goofy vocals with the beat, the rapper makes the cheesy lyrics work, and the chorus of “gotta be getting goofy” backs a great bit. It’s not a bad SONG.. but the video is a hilariously insane mess. We have two of the poor dancers forced to wear just.. HORRIFYING looking Goofy costumes that look like the Dog based sequel to cats that thankfully only exists in my nightmares
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I pityt hose poor dancers. Meanwhile the rest of the dancers are wearing Goofy Baseball uniforms and letterman jackets for some reason. is it beause Goofy likes sportsball. I thoguth they just had them lying around but now I see the g’s on the uniform. They CHOOSE to do this. Max also does a shredding guitar solo, not the max up there the animated max. Combine that with LOTS OF random clips from the show and you get this thing.. and i’ts worth a watch> it’s just hilarously what the shit.. not the most hilariously what the shit thing i’ve seen.. not even this week... that would be this thing from the Eurovision Song contest...
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Your welcome. So moving on because this is already badly behind. 
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Good Neighbor Goof:
So our second episode opens with the Goof’s trying to move in and pete being upset their being loud. Now being upset your neighbors are being loud is one thing: Mine set off fireworks all week around fourth of July. Granted Pete would probably be the one doing such nonsense but still, I get it.. but it’s fair to have a lot of noise when your moving in and in Goofy’s case also trying to patch up a massive hole in the place. 
So he does what any reasonable man would do and activates the earthquake machine he hid in the basement. 
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I wasn’t kidding about the MODOK comparisons. Granted the thing uses a belt to somehow do this.. but it’s designed to SIMULATE AN EARTHQUAKE AN DDOES SO WELL. The only reason Goofy’s not dead is that pete uses a low setting that instead ends up unpacking everything. IT’s a neat gag but again... PETE HAS AN EARTHQUAKE MACHINE.
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Which Goofy accidently destroys his boat with. Meanwhile the boys try to talk over tin can phones only for Pete to notice and try to stop it because he’s a dick and doesn’t want his son to be happy because he hates Goofy. So Pete’s idea of a punishment is for PJ to wear the family shoes to go crush cans while wearing a helmet and given Pete mutters to himself about this keeping PJ away from Max i’ts likely something that he made up to torture his son soooo..
Pete Sucks Counter: 8 Max being a good pal agrees to help his friend crush the cans down to recycle for money and comes up with a zany scheme to do so
Meanwhile we get a few scenes of Pete trying to eff with Goofy’s day: Peg is making food for Goofy like a good neighbor/someone planning for their eventual divorce, so Pete makes him some too with tons of hot sauce. By the laws of classic cartoons, naturally Goofy loves it and wonders if Pete has hot sauce, while Pete trying it explodes his head Scanner’s style. 
He then tries giving Goofy a chainsaw loaded with some kind of explosive or something... so yes he’s esclated to MURDER over.. Goofy annoying him a bunch as he’s apparently given up on the whole taking over that lot thing. 
Pete Sucks Counter: 9 But it is hilariously petty and naturally backfires again by cartoon law as Pete ends up starting it for Goofy who can’t get it going. 
Meanwhile PJ and Max inact the plan which is to drop a bolder with a rope on the cans, but end up having to ride the cans down when PJ lets it go too early and it ends up sweeping both boys on top of the box. They have fun though, with PJ actually getting to enjoy life for once and loving having a new friend.
So as his lot in life Pete has to ruin it by yelling at PJ for getting diryt, then for hanging out with max as he can SMELL the goof on him.. which means he’s either exaggerating or he knows what goofy smells like. 
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So he forbids PJ to see him insluting max.. while Max is hanging out the window and ends up crying. Oh and Peg never gets involved in any of this across both parts, likely because she dosen’t know.. which makes it even MORE horrifying as it gives off the implication Pete gets away with his abuse of his son because he hides it, like a real world abuser. But even then some things like trying to break up his and Max’s friendship or the toys thing you’d THINK she’d notice. 
So we get more untetionally telling stuff as PJ says he’ll treasure this day and the only time he was happy.
Pete Sucks Count: 14 2 for the last scene, 3 for ALLL this one implies. But Max won’t give up the ghost no he won’t give it up. They haven’t the strength to hold on for long but if they both hold on together they can make each other strong. So he has a plan: have Goofy throw a Luau and invite the petes.
Peg naturally forces him to attend and Pete is a dick about it at first, but eventually enjoys himself when they do a conga line. The pets, Waffles and Chainsaw get into some antics. I do love Waffles because I love a kitty. Chainsaw is okay even though I love me a good doggo. Especially this one.
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You are a Good Boy, Good Boy. But eventually while playing a party game about passing coconuts, Pete considers the coconut and considers the trees but dosen’t consider Goofy kicking him in the face AGAIN
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So Pete is naturally a dick about this despite it being you know, an accident. But he takes it a step further by insulting Max Pete Sucks Count: 15 So Goofy gets mad. But here’s where a rather sizeable flaw shows up in the episode as Goofy.. acts exactly like Pete does about the insuing feud. He forbids Max to see PJ makes up rules and is generally petty and vindictive. And look Goofy could be in the shorts. He’s endlessly adaptable.. but here nothing about his character has shown he’d sink to this and it feels forced to bring abotu the climax. 
Thankfully said finale salvages thing: That night Max pulls PJ into his room via the cans, and comes up with a plan.. weirdly asking PJ to hit him with a muffin to save their friendship... but it’s not random it turns out. His plan.. is brilliant. While I really don’t like these types of feud between neighbors make our kids suffer by making them not be able to be friends because we’re being petty children plots, this one has a REALLY clever solution to that: Max and PJ FAKE an oversclated fued similar to their parents, starting with insutls and throwing mulch and escalting to taking down each others fences and then throwing food at each other, before injuring their dads with planks and stuff, nothing serious just slapstick stuff, all to get both to settle down and try and get the boys to stop fighting.. it works like a charm, it’s full of great bits like Peg offering the boys pie only for Max to use it as amuination and i’ts just a great way to end one of these episodes. Not that I WANT more of these episodes but if your going to do this stock plot you might as well be creative with it.
So we end on the Petes and Goofs having a BBQ, all friends again, with Pete having his marina and Goofy nearly burning Pete’s house down and us getting a photo to end the episode.
Final Thoughts:
This one was a step down. Pete’s abuse is REALLY highlighted here and the plot is very paint by numbers and forces Goofy to be out of character for the last act for it to work at all. He just strikes me as too genuine and noble to hold onto a grudge this easily. Peg is also reduced from her usual feisty self to being oddly useless, not stepping in at ANY point to stop any of this depsite it being grossly otu of character. There’s a few great gags and a great climax, but the whole product is just okay
Later Today: Goof Week and Goofy’s birthday continue as I complete the trilogy of Shortstaculars with one about my boy! Featuring Goofy’s first apperance, his first short and the first apperance of what would eventually become Max! 
If you liked this review, follow me for more and consider joining my Patreon which you can find RIGHT HERE. Even a buck a month helps me keep doing these and more gets me to my stretch goals, the next one up being the two remaining ducktales mini series, a darkwing duck episode a month and a reivew of the danny phantom film the ultimate enemy. And even a buck a month gets you access to exclusvie reviews, my patreon exclusive discord and to pick a short any time I do one of my shortstaculars. My next one is for Donald’s birthday next montha nd there’s only 6 days left to get on that pay cycle so if that sounds good to you get on in NOW while you still can and i’ll see you at the next rainbow. 
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trashballerina · 5 years ago
Text
BNHA Fics I really like
Btw, the ones with a ⭐ are my favorites
journey to the past 
https://archiveofourown.org/works/15046934
Izuku is five years old the first time he's saved by heroes. He's an instant fan of the woman in pink with her cheerful smile and the man with his ice powers and fine-boned features, even if they both refuse to tell him their names.
For most of his life, Izuku has been the centre of villain attacks, but he has never been injured. Every time, he's saved by bright, unknown heroes—heroes who smile at Izuku, and ruffle his hair or ply him with hugs, and seem mesmerised by how small he is.
Heroes that the rest of the world doesn't believe exists.
Opinion: Honestly, it’s really pure and heartwarming with a side of angst. Seeing a young Izuku fanboy is adorable and from what I remember it's pretty well written. I honestly really love this one.
Lies in the guise of truth
https://archiveofourown.org/works/15124007/chapters/35067359
All Might is the world's #1 hero, the symbol of peace, the pillar that the world knows they can stand on. He dominates every room he's in, from press conferences to his Hero Agency.
It's pretty easy for everyone to overlook Yagi Toshinori, All Might's 'quirkless secretary'. But he's still there.
Opinion: I really love Dadmight. Like I really love Dadmight so I may be a bit bias. It diverts a bit from canon, but I was alright with that. It’s wholesome, cute, and Toshi deserves some love 
I Would Understand  ⭐
https://archiveofourown.org/works/12729852
Shinsou Hitoshi had a bit of a problem, and that problem was that he’d gotten attached to Aizawa Shouta. And somewhere along the line had started seeing him as a parental figure, a replacement for all the foster home parents who’d passed him along and never quite done their job.
A kid who's been in foster care his entire life spends a normal, average day after training with the teacher who seems to care a little too much.
Opinion: I have found myself revisiting this fic thrice already lol. Honestly, the first chapter is my favorite and well written--as are the other chapters. I love the melodic and somber atmosphere of some of the scenes and it really feels so sweet but hits me in the feels. The EraserMic in here is beautiful and great Dadzawa.
Ghosts of Flowers
https://archiveofourown.org/works/19851709
Shigaraki gets the chance to carefully sift through the pieces of his recovered memories and tries to hold them close.
There is something that bothers him a bit though: Hana seems—oddly familiar.
It’s not until he’s reviewing the U.A. training exercise footage their mole got them that he realizes it.
The Yaoyorozu heiress, with her long, dark hair, her elegant eyes, and her confident smile, she looks just like—
But she can’t be Hana.
Opinion: I love this one a whole lot. The concept is interesting and executed really well. I really love the characterization of the characters and you get some great internal dialogue and inside thoughts. While I do think the story goes a bit fast, I really enjoyed and understand there’s a lot to tell in ten chapters. 
Not a Spare Part
https://archiveofourown.org/works/18974530/chapters/45052543
In one universe, Tony Stark closed his eyes to a world where Superheroes were a rarity.
In another universe, Tony Stark opens his eyes to a world where Superheroes are the norm.
(An AU where after the events of Endgame, Tony Stark finds himself inhabiting the body of a young quirkless boy named Midoriya Izuku and figures out that the world could use... another Iron Man)
------- Basically, Izuku becomes Iron Man.
Opinion: I really like this fic. Tony is giving Izuku the confidence he needs and makes some new friends and builds old ones. 
Reconfigure  ⭐
https://archiveofourown.org/works/16893972
It's been years since the League of Villains was disbanded. Out on parole and stuck in therapy, Tomura Shigaraki is coasting through life. While he's no longer a villain, he's not exactly a productive member of society either. When an awkward past fling shows up, he's met with a shock: a 3-month-old baby girl. Turns out motherhood is hard when you're a serial killer. Suddenly saddled with the responsibility of a child, Shigaraki has a choice: keep his life the boring way it is or become a father for his kid he didn't know he had.
He knows nothing about being a good parent (and neither does the recently paroled Dabi/Touya Todoroki), but help comes in the most surprising of forms, specifically pro hero Uravity. All Ochako Uraraka wants to do is be a hero, so when she stumbles across the former villain with a baby, she can't help but worry. With Shigaraki clueless, Uraraka decides to do her best to help. What starts out as a chance meeting between two old enemies turns into something else as they find themselves in a strange predicament and more people get involved. They say it takes a village to raise a child. Sometimes, it's a handful of mostly reformed villains and the heroes they tried to kill when they were teens.
Opinion: Alright, before you dismiss this one, hear me out:  Tomura/Ochako really works in this fic. This fic has become one of my favorites because of how its written, characterization, and Tomura’s child--because I’m a sucker for wholesome parent and child content. I honestly really love this fic and had a lot of emotions throughout.
Something Still Remains  ⭐
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737019
“Are you Shouta?” the shadow-man asks, and his tone is polite but there’s something verging on almost desperate behind it.
Shouta considers. He’s unarmed, facing an unknown person who knows his home address and his first name, he hasn’t slept in thirty-six hours, and he’s wearing kitten-patterned pajama pants. Despite all of that, he’s still confident in his ability to handle himself in a fight, but nothing about this situation is making sense, and it’s sending him slightly off-kilter.
Starting with how the shadow man knows his name.
“Maybe,” he says, after his silence has dragged on a beat too long. “Who’s asking.”
Opinion: It’s a one-shot, but a heckin good one at that. The tone of this fic is so gentle and quiet. Also, Kurogiri characterization is great. I’m absolutely craving more.
How to kidnap an underground hero and an UA General Studies student- A guide by Present Mic
https://archiveofourown.org/works/23068645/chapters/55178836
Hizashi knew what the villains were planning, he was one of them after all. But they wouldn’t hurt what was his and the plan was rather simple. Really.
Step 1: Convince them that it is just going to be a family holiday and that they desperately need a bit of a break
Step 2: Get Shinsou to take quirk suppressants, make him believe it’s a good thing and that it would help him, tell him that they would wear off on their own, not that they do
Step 3: Put the pills into tea, not coffee, the latter could cause health problems
Opinion: I have so many feelings about this. Like way too many. It’s not finished, but I need more. Erasermic, Shinsou, and Eri, and literally everything I love
it's a chatfic, but with villains
https://archiveofourown.org/works/11777448/chapters/26554635
DABnation added NotDeadpool, Ketchup, Magic Mike, BIG MEATY, MoonMoon, FidgetSpinnerPro, MAGNIFICENT, and Loan Snake to the group.
Stab Lick Delicious:Why is Kurogiri crying DABnation: i think DABnation: he realized he made a mistake
Opinion: It’s been a while since I’ve read and it’s unfinished, but I remember having a really fun time reading this and having quite a few laughs.
Karma in Retrograde
https://archiveofourown.org/works/14924609/chapters/34574417
When Dabi is struck by a de-aging quirk that regresses him to the most influential part of his life, he finds himself turned back into a sixteen-year-old U.A. General Studies student with lots of self-esteem issues, parent problems, a destructive quirk that he can't manage, and no memory of the years that he's lost - not to mention the fact that his little brother is now the same age as him and one of the top students in the U.A. hero course. In U.A.'s attempt to make up for what they missed and help the Dabi of the past, present, and future, he is placed with the only students that know him and have yet to find out what truly makes the difference between a hero and a villain. There, they must face the question of whether he can change or his destiny is already set in stone.
Opinion: I really like this fic. I really love young Dabi. It’s been a while since I’ve read, but I really love this one.
komorebi  ⭐
https://archiveofourown.org/works/16717599/chapters/39209133
The change can't be immediate, or it’ll seem forced. It has to take time, in order to be realistic. He knows that.
He’ll need to seem like a villain. But he’ll be a hero.
And for that, Hitoshi thinks he’d do just about anything.
Or,
Someone's selling UA's secrets, and Shinsou Hitoshi definitely doesn't have anything to prove.
Opinion: If you haven’t noticed, I really like Dadzawa. This one is super interesting, written really good, and I love the characterization of Shinsou. Like some chapters had me rioting I thought they were so good. I love the alternating moods ins scenes and I feel that I can really feel the atmosphere--if that makes sense lol.
Mendacium  ⭐
https://archiveofourown.org/works/21297146/chapters/50713442
"Why are you doing this?" Shouta couldn't help but ask. Really, this kid couldn't be much older than his class, and he was already out his risking his life to fight... and was good at it. That was the worst part of all, that a child would act like an experienced soldier in the face of danger. "If you stop now, I won't report you. You can just go on home to your family, and maybe try to be a hero-"
A laugh cut him off, but it was more sad than condescending. "Mr. Trash Bag, I'm doing all I can to get home. But like hell I'll be a hero. I've been used by the government too much." A slight European accent colored his words, and his Japanese was a little hesitant, but the determination was clear. "I have to admit, though, your quirk is really awesome. The ability to stop others' energies... remarkable."
The boy tensed, and Shouta activated his quirk on reflex.
"Too bad it doesn't work on me, then. Can't erase what you don't have, after all!"
OR: Edward didn't want to help Truth. He didn't want to go to a different world to defeat yet another Father. He didn't want to become a vigilante there.
He also wanted his brother back. The choice was obvious, even if Truth is a massive asshole.
Opinion: 10/10. Superb. Love our short funky blond alchemist. There’s ling chapters, great Edward Elric, and it had me rolling a few times with laughter. I thoroughly love this fic. 
Demons of the Past  ⭐ 
https://archiveofourown.org/works/17642501/chapters/41601551
For Enji Todoroki, hero name Endeavor, reconciling with the past is easier said than done. Even more so when a dead son comes back to haunt him.
Opinion: I had this before BUT HEAR ME OUT! This fic is absolutely amazing. I was blown away with the characterization of Enji and I know so many people hate him-- I included--but I think his perspective is interesting. The high emotional scenes really had me feeling. Honestly, give this fic a try and you’ll see what I mean.
Black Cat Cafe  ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
https://archiveofourown.org/works/15442725/chapters/35844969
Aizawa Shota was a man tired of life, bitter and jaded from the endless horrors of the world. Six years ago, he disappeared, his existence erased.
Redeye is a stoic man with a mysterious past, who runs a tight shop, cares for his young ward with his whole heart, and makes a flawless cup of coffee.
He also has an unabashed fondness for stray cats.
(Otherwise known as a bitter Aizawa makes café Switzerland, adopts twenty hero-in-training children, some villains, and Shinsou, and then kicks All for One’s ass into next week. And maybe falls in love.)
Opinion: This is the one bois. I think this is my favorite bnha fic. The concept, the characterization, the PINING. I am absolutely in the with this story and the author.
Sure As the Setting Sun  ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ 
https://archiveofourown.org/works/12111294/chapters/27462717
Mob never aimed to be a hero, despite being an apprentice to one. He only wanted to make sure his quirk never hurt anyone ever again. However, an incident that occurs in his third year of middle school spurs him into action despite his wishes. Mob enters into UA academy, the top heroics school in all of Japan, and winds up with several new friends and much more trouble than he bargained for.
Opinion: It hasn’t been updated for a while, but seeing my two favorite cinnamon rolls together melts my heart. Mob is in the hero course but has the moral dilemma of fighting, and honestly, it is so interesting to see how it’s handled. 
_________
Well, I hope you enjoyed the list. I really tried not to star everything (I like them all!). I’m probably going to make more for different fandoms and more in-depth tbh. I had a lot of fun doing this! If anyone has any fic recommendations for, please don’t feel shy to send me some! I love talking about writing!
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whump-it · 5 years ago
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Hayden; Rory Tells Alyaa What Happened
@haro-whumps @grizzlie70 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @comfortforthepain @shameless-whumper @iaminamoodymoodtoday @kawaiiloverofanimu @burtlederp @untilthepainstarts @my-whumpy-little-heart @moose-teeth @pepperonyscience @faewhump @saphemme @slaintetowhump
Ok.  This isn’t quite what it should have been thanks to Tumblr just eating half the work after I saved it.  I’ve rescued it to the best of my ability right now which is probably not great.  I’m not having a good week but I wanted to get this out there.  I can always edit if I need to later.  The story won’t change.
TW’s?  Not really I don’t think.  Alyaa is struggling with her past but it’s not really discussed here.  There is mention of a grisly accident in precious little detail because that belongs in another drabble.
With reassurances to Callum that he would be back in about an hour or so, Rory closed the door to his apartment and waited just long enough to hear that Callum had locked it after he had left. He assumed that he would have gone back to his cooking.
He stood for a beat longer, sighed and dragged a hand through his hair, his other hand holding on to a folder of neatly kept papers that Callum had eyed with a frown but not mentioned when Rory had picked it up prior to leaving.  This was always going to come out.  In the end there was no way that it could stay hidden forever, no matter how much of a wimp Rory knew he was being for not bringing it up sooner. 
He nodded to himself. Psyched himself up.  Bounced up and down on the balls of his feet then squared his shoulders and walked down the corridor to Alyaa’s front door and knocked.  He could hear from inside some shuffling and her calling out that she’d be there in just a moment.  When the door swung open he was greeted by the unusual sight of a fully beaming and incredibly happy Alyaa.  The look of complete joy dropped like a stone from her face as she looked up at him. 
“Rory,” she said softly.  “Uh...I was expecting...”
“Callum,” Rory interrupted her.  “I know.  He’s cooking.”
“He’s cooking?”  She looked wary, like she didn’t believe him and it made Rory feel anxious and impatient.
“Yes, cooking.  He said he was making enough for you and he’ll bring it over later.  I’m guessing that’s what you expected at the door?  And not me?”
He instantly regretted the way that he was talking to her.  He knew that she had a past.  He knew from Callum that there were things that she didn’t want to talk about and he didn’t push for any more than that from him.  And for whatever reason, she had clearly never taken to him although he assumed that turning up drunkenly stumbling into someones apartment would probably have that effect. But she was shaking like a leaf, stood like a trapped animal in her own doorway.  He had never been more aware of how much taller than her he was. 
“Look,” Rory sighed the word out, feeling suddenly tired and overwhelmed.  And woefully underprepared for anything that had happened over the last few weeks.  More than anything right now he needed an ally.  “Call him.  Message him.  I’ll wait right here while you do.  He’s fine.  But once you’re happy that he’s safe and sound then I need to talk to you.”
“W...why?” She tripped over the word quietly with a quiver in her voice. 
“Because I know that he’s spoken to you about Hayden.  And I know that you’re trying to help but he’s terrified that he’s going to come back for him.  There is no way that Hayden will ever be getting his hands on Callum again.”
“How...how...uh.  How can you be so sure about that?  How can you know that for sure?  No wonder he’s frightened.  I don’t know the half of what...of course he’s frightened.”
“I can be sure because there’s something that you don’t know.  And there’s something that Cal doesn’t know.  Hayden’s never going to come back and get Cal because Hayden is dead.”
As soon as the words had left his mouth he could see the colour drain from Alyaa’s face.  With lightning fast speed she grasped at the door and swung it to slam it shut.  Rory flinched at it but shoved a foot in between the door and the frame, pushed a hand to the flat of the door and held it there, pushing back and easily gaining the upper hand. 
“Alyaa,” he grunted the word out.  “Just let me in will you?  I need to to talk to you about this.”  He pushed again, opening the door a little further.  “Let me in!”
At the demand, the door gave and Rory tumbled into the apartment, startled and stumbling as he just about held on to his balance and his folder of papers.
"Thank you!" he said, exasperated and sarcastic with wrung-out tiredness. He glanced around, looking for where Alyaa had gone until he saw her standing ram-rod straight backed to the side of the door, hands held neatly in front of her with her expression schooled onto blankness.
"Thank you," he said again, calmly and sincerely. Her sudden change in manner, in posture, in deference had unnerved him. He didn't know what had happened but he knew that he didn't like it.
"Please," she said, gesturing to the couch opposite the kitchen. Gathering up his composure, Rory walked quietly and slowly to the couch, afraid that if he went any faster he would somehow startle Alyaa too much. Like she might somehow just disappear. It felt strange. He sat down and chewed on his lip, a frown written all across his face.
"I'm sorry," he said, so quietly that it could barely he heard. He watched her for reactions. She was sat as still as a statue but she was listening. He was certain about that. Guarded but alert. Aware. He could work with that. He'd seen the same thing in Callum more than once.
"Look I shouldn't have pushed in," Rory said, fiddling with the edge of the folder on his lap. "That was a dick move I know. But I'm desperate. I need help. I need to help Cal. He trusts you..."
"And he trusts you too," Alyaa interrupted him, surprising him into silence. "He thinks the world of you. So..."
"I'm doing my best to earn every bit of the trust that he puts in me. Please... please believe that."
"I think you have a story that you need to tell me," Alyaa said, looking Rory in the eyes, finally making eye contact.
"Yes," Rory nodded eagerly. "I do and, uh, it's..."
"I only want one thing off you," Alyaa said. "If I ask you to leave, then you will. Can you do that?"
"Of course," Rory said. "Your place, your rules. But... please give me a chance, time even, to get this all out because it's... complicated."  He watched her as she turned the conversation over in her head, seemingly reaching a conclusion that suited her as she nodded and moved to sit in an armchair opposite him.
“Ok then,” she said, releasing the words on an exhale after a large inhale.  “Go ahead.”
“Right,”  Rory said, nodding to himself, suddenly entirely clueless as to where or how to start.  “So you know I’m an AP.”  He caught her eye and saw the brief flinch that she tried her best to cover up.  “WAS an AP.  Sorry.  I’ve...I quit.  I uh...I quit that.  The day that I asked you to come watch Cal for me?  I went to work and I quit.  I’m just freelance auditing now but...you don’t need to hear that part...not important.”
She was sitting statue still, straight backed and composed and it was unnerving him more than if she had raged at him, hit him, screamed at him.  It was making his mouth say stupid things that his brain wasn’t giving it permission for.
“So yeah...not an AP now.  Uh,”  he fiddled with his folder again.  “Yeah!  So when Callum came to donate he, or I, he.  He was so young.  And I should’ve stopped him. Believe me I know that.  I wish that I had so badly.  But it was rules and I thought...I really truly thoguht that the system was good.  That it was for good.  That it made people happy.  I never even considered, because I’m a dick, I never even considered that it could be so...abused.  I...”
“Rules,” Alyaa said quietly.
“Huh?”
“Rules.  You and Callum.  You both...with your rules.  And his rules.  The wrong rules can tie a person up you know.  Tightly.  No escape.  The freedom becomes a void.”
Rory looked at her while she spoke, his mouth hanging open.  The void of freedom.  It was such a mindblowing concept that he couldn’t even begin to think about where to start with it.  
“I shouldn’t have interrupted,” Alyaa said, breaking the silence.  “Go on.”
“Uuuuuh...yeah.  So, I mean I always treated every BP well.  Because why wouldn’t I?  And I really enjoyed having Cal there.  He never said much but he was so...”  he searched for the right word.  “...Cal.  You know something?  When I brought him home my boss told me to take him to the locality facility.  That they would mend him and fix him up for a new Selector.”
When he looked up at Alyaa again she had gone pale once more, the colour that she regained seemed to be leaching away from her. 
“I told him no.  That I wouldn’t take him in.  That he was staying with me and getting cleaned up and washed and fed.  When I went in to see Mr Newman?  My boss...old boss.  He said to me that Cal is an example of just how you never know that something is wrong until something bad happens.  And then you can fix it..." Rory paused and sighed, rubbed a hand through his hair and steadied himself because he was certain that if he let the anger that he was feeling out then Alyaa would kick him out for sure.
"Alyaa... he called Callum an example. An example. He's not a...fucking example. He's a person."
"How did you find him?" Alyaa asked quietly, still sitting straight and composed.
“There was an audit,” Rory said.  “State ordered by the government.  They couldn’t ognore the rumours anymore that younger donors were being used or abused and they wanted it all checked out.  Did you hear about it?  On the news?  The Programme wasn’t...isn’t...well not everyone kept notes as well as I did.”  He motioned to the stack of papers on his lap.
“So the APs were ordered to look into any donors who were twenty five years or younger when they donated.  And I’ve only ever had one.  Callum.”
“How old was he when he...” Alyaa began.
“Twenty,” Rory said quickly.  “And it...it felt wrong.  But rules...the rules said.  They said it was ok and...I...I fucked up I know that.  I know now.  But I had the paperwork.  Still do.  I always kept copies, and copies of copies.  So I did the audit and everthing that had checked out before just didn’t anymore.  Something wasn’t adding up the way that it had.  I asked for paid leave and went looking in every direction that I could for him.  I...I found him.  I found him...”
Alyaa was looking at him, quite and still, her posture maintained but with maybe just a hint more ease to it.  Rory couldn’t quite tell, but she said nothing.  Just looked at him until he felt compelled to carry on talking.
“I found Hayden first,”  Rory looked down at the papers, focussing on the words but not really reading them.  Anything to take away the image that was seared into his minds eye.  “He was in his car, I recognised it from when he took...uh, when he took Cal away.”  Tears were gathering and his throat felt tight.  He swallowed hard and gulped on it, the noise embarrasing and loud in the otherwise silent apartment.  He sniffed in hard, an ugly sound that did little to help.  So he kept his head down while he continued to speak.
“The key was in the ignition and turned on,” He said, his voice barely above a whisper.  “But it wasn’t running.  It had run out of fuel Alyaa.  It had been so long that it had run itself out of fuel where it was, in a ditch by the side of the road.  Facing the house.  There was a...a deer caught up in it, half in the car just... just mangled up and...”  Rory took a deep and suddering breath in and out.  “It was Hayden.  I know it was.  I called it in eventually.  Anonymously and when I was far enough away.  The deer killed him.  Just...smashed him up.  His chest and face.  I could still see it was him.  But...it wasn’t pretty.  It was...I don’t like to think about it.  I didn’t let Cal see.”
“But if the fuel had run out...” Alyaa said slowly, piecing together just what that had to mean.  Just how much time there had been for Callum on his own. 
“How long does it take for a car to run out of fuel?”  Rory asked, looking up as the tears escaed and spilled down his cheeks. “What if it had been a full tank?  What if I hadn’t got there when I did...”  He broke off with a gasp and dashed the tears away angrily with the palm of one hand.  The thought that he might have been too late had plagued him from the moment that he had seen the car and Hayden.  It intruded.  It pricked at his mind and wouldn’t leave him alone.  After a long moment of silence, Alyaa spoke.
“You did though.  You did get there.”  Rory looked at her and nodded.  Grabbed at the olive branch and held on for all he was worth. 
“I didn’t find him straight away,” He whispered.  “I looked all through the house.  I called out but no one answered.  I must have walked right past the basement door when I went in.  I saw it on the way out.  It was only a sliding latch.  No bolts.  All that was between Callum and freedom was one. single. latch.  Uh...I don’t think I should tell you how he was when I found him?  Maybe that should be something for him to share?  He was...it...he was not in a good way.  Just too hurt and frightened.  Too...too lost.”  He held the papers that he had been grasping on to out to Alyaa and waited until she hesitantly took hold of them.
“More copies of copies,” Rory said.  I wanted you to be able to see things for yourself. I don’t...I’m fairly sure I’ve done something to upset you and I totally respect you not wanting to tell me what it was but this is about Cal.  Not me.  So those are yours to keep if you want.  To read and...I don’t know...believe?  Maybe?”
“Thank you,” Alyaa said quietly. 
“He’s not an example Alyaa,” Rory said.  “He’s not.”
“No, he’s not,” she said.  “I know.  It’s ok.  And...umm...I’m not upset really.  Not...I need time.  I...just need time.  But thank you for...”  She held up the papers and gave them a little wave about.  Rory nodded and scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck. 
“Is he...hurt?” she asked.
“He’s been so so badly treated,” Rory said.  “He’s...I do try to get him out.  I promise I do.  I take him for walks and I buy him things that I’ve seen him looking at.  But his head still belongs to Hayden.  At least partly.  I don’t want to keep him in but he wants to be back there sometimes.  I know that.  And he’s frightened.  He’s been ill since he got here and I don’t want him trying...”
“So that’s why...” Alyaa whispered.
“Huh?”  Rory looked at her but she was looking down at the stack of papers.  She looked quiet and calm, still aware and alert but not the guarded and terrified demeanour that she had displayed when he had first arrived.  Suddenly she stood, staright up in a motion that drew Rory up with her as if by a magnet. 
“Can you...I’m tired,” she said, edging towards the door and drawing Rory along with her without so much as touching him.  “Can you tell Callum not to worry about the food tonight?  It’s been a long day and we ate a lot of cake frosting when he was here earlier.  Maybe he could save it for Tuesday?”
“Tuesday?” Rory said, reaching for the door handle at the same time as Alyaa, pulling quickly back when he saw the collision pathway that their hands were on. 
“He’s coming over on Tuesday...he told you?  I think?  I’ve arranged some work at your place to help him?”
“Oh, sorry...yeah...no I’ll tell him.  I’ll work from home that day...so...yeah,” Rory shuffled out into the corridor.  “And I AM sorry.  I never meant to make you sad or...whatever.”
“Uh, yeah. I know...,” Alyaa was talking but she was shutting the door as she spoke.  Rory had his hand half way raised to wave a goodbye when the door closed with a click and the sound of bolts sliding into place.  He wondered how many times Callum had had to hear that sound.  Too many.  Even once was too many.  It made Rory hurry back, desperate to hold Callum.  To hug him and tell him that he was sorry.  That he was ok now.  That none of this should ever have happened but that he has a home now.  He has friends now.
And the shadow that loomed large, the need to tell Callum about Hayden would have to wait for another day.
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thewondersomethingorother · 5 years ago
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Hi Hello
Right off the bat, I want to say that if anyone was satisfied, touched, or even indifferent to the finale of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, then that’s great. Your feelings are valid, and I’ve seen a number of people who feel that the show has changed their lives for the better, and that they felt happy to see their favorite characters off in such a satisfying conclusion...
I am not one of those people, and if you don’t want to see a grown-ass adult rail against the ending of the sparkly-pony show, then feel free to just ignore me.
What even the Hell was that? I know I’ve seen series end in worse ways, but I don’t think I’ve had this much of a vicious agitation brought on by any other finale. The Twin Peaks: The Return ending caused fewer headaches (and I LOVED that ending)
Not since Danny Phantom did such a solid premise with endearing characters pile-drive any potential for interesting stories, straight into the ground. Twilight was easily one of the most interesting characters I’ve seen in a children’s show in a while, and it was all the more impressive that the likes of her was the main character in what is usually seen as a giant toy commercial. A socially stunted, somewhat sarcastic, awkward little bookworm who had to actually go out into the world and talk to people, only to learn that with patience and understanding, there is more to learn about the world than what’s in her books. Such a great way to introduce a simple concept to young kids in a fun and endearing way. That Friendship takes time, effort, and that the right friends can help you get through most anything in life. 
And yet, somewhere around the introduction of Starlight into the main cast (with my last breath, I curse Starlight) the show took a weird turn that it wasn’t willing to go back from (granted, the cracks were already beginning to show, but I’m going to stick with my gut and say it really began when Starlight didn’t leave). The show pulled a Darling in the FRANXX and assumed that when a character is done with their emotional issues, then that means they just don’t have a personality anymore, and Twilight went from an interesting character who had moments of ego, pride, confidence issues, and cute little bouts of panic, to a walking problem solving machine. 
Twilight was obsessive and kind of a snot and weird and something of an introvert and it was such a great way to show kids that, even if you feel like you’re “weird”, you’re still worthy of friends as long as you put yourself out there and just try. And somewhere along the way the writers just ground down any flaws she had and made every major event in her life an accidental event or some kind of Divine Intervention. NOTHING she earned felt like a decision on her part, and as a result it felt like she was more just trying to fulfill a role she was told to have, more out of fear and obligation than any personal want. 
Earning her wings? Result of her accidentally setting of a spell she didn’t know what it was, and reversing said spell in order to help her friends. Getting her castle? She just wanted to save her friends again and as a result, awoke Rainbow Power (WHAT EVEN WAS RAINBOW POWER?!) and got a house out of it because the show had to push a new toy. Then Celestia swoops in and claims that Twilight is the Princess of Friendship. How do you know that lady?! What are you going off of? And when she finally makes a decision of her own, one that the fans have been predicting for years, and opens up her own school (even if it was the most pointless and backwards school to happen), Celestia swoops in again and decides to tell Twilight that she and her sister have decided to fuck off and that she now has to run the country. Bitch, she has a life outside of whatever you want her to do!
Honestly, this all smacks as very uncomfortable when you think about how much of this might have been planned by Celestia from the start, when she took Twilight on as a student. Granted, she might not have decided to make her a successor right there, but the fact that she kept dumping more and more responsibility onto her makes Twilight’s want to be a “good princess” come off more as she’s afraid of disappointing Celestia rather than this being her own decision. Was she grooming Twilight? For how long? How much of this was Luna in on? They were both looking at each other conspiratorially when Celestia took out Starswirl’s old book of spells. Why did these two choose to pull the same stunt the Elves did at the end of Lord of the Rings, only a short time after Twilight opened her school, when they knew she’d be busy with running it?
On top of that: Why a school for “friendship”? I know the explanation in universe, but the whole beginning of the series was that friendship was something that others had to experience organically, and that there are some lessons that just can’t be taught in a classroom. The whole set up makes the other species sound like clueless idiots who had to rely on the generous, saintly ponies to teach them their holy ways. Are all alicorns immortal? Because if that was the case, and Celestia was gearing up to have Twilight ascend, then that really seems like something she should have consulted with her student first, than just attributing her transformation to “fully understanding friendship like no other.” That’s like saying the stars were right enough to make me the new Pope. 
Most of all, I hate how a show, which had such a strong concept, about the importance of making friends because it’s an important aspect of life (no matter how hard it can be sometimes) and make it so that, in the end, Twilight is elevated to a station so above her friends that it makes her a divine being. Because that’s the true power of friendship; using them as stepping stones. Now I know Twi wouldn’t knowingly use her friends for divine power, but it just sours the whole moral when you see a character who goes from not believing in the point of friends, to making friends, to then outliving the very friends who were responsible for her being who she is in the supposed “ideal future.” A future where Twilight is just Celestia 2, and for some weird reason has to teach her student about the importance of friendship, despite her student studying under the Princess of Friendship, in a utopia made by the efforts of said princess and her friends. I’m sorry, fanfiction writers, I don’t care how you try to spin this, there’s no way I’m accepting this as a positive. This series somehow came full circle and went right up its own ass in the process.
So, all of that is to explain this little doodle that took me way too long, but here she is: Princess Twilight Sparkle herself, and her supposedly important friends. Friends who are concerned for Twilight, because ever since she was given the crown, seems to resemble nothing of the pony they know and love. This pony is just a friendship speech machine, constantly prattling on about some lesson or moral, and just can’t seem to connect with any of her beloved friends any more. They’re all quite concerned, but have no way of knowing how to address the issue. But it’s too late because Twilight Sparkle is dead; all hail Princess Twilight. 
In short, there are people smarter than me who could probably make a more precise point in explaining how to pull a finale like this off in a satisfying way (like Gurren Lagann did), but that’s not why I’m here. I’m simply here to vent petty pony pictures, and stew. Thank You for coming to me TED Talk. 
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Secret Wars 2099 #1-5 Thoughts...kinda
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As I have no memories, nor apparently any records, of covering this story when it originally released I figured I’d do it as part of my re-reading project.
So the first things I should make clear is that I DID read these issues cover to cover...but in the trade. So if the recap pages of the original issues did something wonky I don’t know about that. Also I’m not covering these issue by issue. There are a few reasons for that.
For starters that’d be more time consuming and whilst I’m never going to make this deadline I’m trying to blast through Spidey 2099 volume 3 as early into the upcoming 2099 event as possible. My pie in the sky plan was to get it done before ASM #833 but that’s not happening now because shit got in my way. Secondly I’ve already read these issues as they were coming out and so I wanted to make the experience more novel for myself and see how they held up as one big story not a set of individual ones.
Due to this I’m likely not going to get into the nitty gritty of this story as I would issue to issue, pulling out ‘this one panel was weird’ and so forth. I’m going to try and discuss the story as an overview.
And from that perspective this was very enjoyable but does have you scratching your head when trying to reconcile it within continuity. On that fro there are three ways to view it.
a)      Within classic 2099 continuity
b)      Within the then current 2099 continuity off the heels of Spidey 2099 volume 2
c)       And within the continuity that’s yet to come. Maybe I even mentioned that in the posts I did for Spidey 2099 volume 3, I don’t remember and don’t want to spoil myself by checking. I DO remember Roberta/Captain America returns which makes continuity confusing
In fact continuity from all 3 POVs is confusing. I think the best thing to do is to treat this as kind of like the RYV Secret Wars continuity. That is to say it’s not about the ACTUAL versions of the characters you’ve come to know and when we next see the new characters introduced here those will be alternate versions of these guys.
In a sense this is a kind of conceptual part of PAD’s over all story. It exists so you know that there are/could be versions of these characters and concepts ‘out there’ and they could show back up in his main story. Similarly the All-New X-Factor issue that hinted at this series did so more conceptually. The idea being a big corporation who own their own superhero team. This series doesn’t directly pick up those plot threads but it’s conceptually similar, maybe even the intention is that Miguel got the idea for his Avengers from that story.
I don’t know though because this Miguel is drastically different to the one we’ve been following from Superior onwards. Now I’m not familiar with the 90s 2099 stuff much but IIRC Miguel does become the head of Alchemax and his father Tyler Stone is wheelchair bound so is this supposed to be diverging off that? I dunno.
Enough about continuity though, taking this story in isolation as I said it’s enjoyable. There isn’t much wrong with it beyond one notable thing and a few nitpicks.
Nitpicks would be stuff like how the ending feels kind of weird. It bookends the start of the story but I just feel outright showing us something that we already knew (that Black Widow 2099 acts like a literal black widow and kills her lovers) just wasn’t a fitting end for this story. It’s not that it is gross so much as it just feels odd and out of place. Like there was a more fitting coda for this story than following the minor exploits of a minor character amidst this story.
The more notable problem is a plot one. This isn’t a deal breaker but I just don’t really understand the relevance of Mordo 2099’s business card being in the Specialist’s pocket. It’s the instigator for most of the plot and yet the Specialist didn’t seem to have anything to do with Mordo. Was it just a coincidence? Was it planted there to throw the Avengers off Tyler Stone’s trail? It’s never explained. I suppose it could be a coincidence but then that’s rather lazy writing beneath PAD’s usual talents.
Beyond that the story is fun but fairly simple.
Essentially this boils down to the Avengers and Defenders meet, fight, interact a bit more, fight some more (with some Avengers siding with the Defenders) and then they team up to beat a bigger threat.
Not much else goes on, but that’s not a bad thing.
This story didn’t need to be Kraven’s Last Hunt or Watchmen.
It was just a fun superhero action story, which frankly is usually all that Avengers or Defenders stories ever amount to. Substance is a rarity for ether team, you want that check out the F4 or X-men.
What this series excels at is filling in some blanks from the original 2099 universe line, revisiting some old characters from it, introducing some new versions of old faces (like Silver Surfer and Hercules) and just giving you enough for each character for there to be some fun interactions. Maybe that’s all a bit basic but fun is fun.
We never had an Avengers nor Defenders 2099 back when the line exists, at least not as far as I know. And the idea that classic characters like Hercules, Valkyrie and the Surfer would still be around makes a lot of sense. The 2099 reimaginings of older characters are also quite fun. Black Widow literally being a woman who eats her lovers was obvious and yet novel. Hawkeye being a hawk/human hybrid was something different from the 616 version. Hercules being a standing for Thor was a brilliant balance of something new yet familiar. Iron Man and Vision 2099 were novel twists on the classic characters. The characters bounced off each other nicely (especially Hercules and Sub-Mariner) and there were some fun match ups.
The stand out (possibly because PAD had plans for her) though is Roberta Mendez, a.k.a. Captain America 2099. If anyone was the main character in this it was her. She was the most out and out heroic and a worthy heir to Steve’s legacy.
In recent years there has been much, shall we say, ‘heated debate’ regarding female characters, poc characters, female body depictions in comics and legacy characters.
Roberta has oddly been left unmentioned in this discussion which is strange as she ticks all the above boxes and yet is also one of the best examples of how to do such characters.
She is not stereotypically sexy, and the story points out the ‘wrongness’ of that. But it places it in the mouth of a minor character who is bad, and beyond that doesn’t dwell on the topic. I think this is smart because it acknowledges potential backlash but also doesn’t become self-indulgent in calling it out. I think that’s part of the umbridge a lot of people feel. The lack of subtlety and the frankly obnoxious degree to which a lot of modern comics attempt to call out bad actors or problematic views. PAD demonstrates the right way to handle this rather than Jason Aaron’s tactics in his Jane Foster Thor run for instance.
More importantly Roberta isn’t built up as heroic or better than her peers or anyone else through unearned tactics. This isn’t Riri Williams or Rey from Star Wars who’s acclaim in story is rather handed to them. She is a corporate stooge and a tool (one who’s literally activated and deactivated), but one with a conscience. And that conscience lets her fight back and make the right choices, but she isn’t a true blue enemy of ‘the system’. She’s morally and ethically compromised as Captain America and entirely clueless and vulnerable as Roberta. But she still saves people, she still helps people, she still has a moral code and she still believes in Steve Rogers’ values. She is a capable combatant and yet far from invincible.
In short...she’s a flawed super hero. It’s a feat of balanced writing that is worth of applause on PAD’s part as I count myself a fan of Roberta a lot actually.
The second most interesting character in this is Miguel.
Miguel’s portrayal here is interesting in general because it’s a departure from what you would expect having read volume 2 or possibly 2099 in general. He is absolutely the head of a big bad corporation. And he uses people. He is willing to enforce his corporate authority unethically. He is NOT a good person. In volume 2 you could describe him as anti-hero lite. He was more violent and clearly more willing to take life than Peter Parker but he wasn’t the Punisher or Wolverine. He was on the side of the angels but wasn’t one of them basically. Here though he’s definitely not on the side of the angels...but he’s also not on the side of the demons either. Rather he occupies this interesting spot in the middle as his Alchemax Avengers are doing good things and he does let the Defenders go at the end of everything. And yet he does safeguard Alchemax’s safety and legacy and manipulates Roberta.
This is another feat of writing as Miguel can’t be easily put into a box marked good nor bad or even anti-hero.
As for the art, I feel it’s a step down from what Sliney was doing in Spidey 2099 volume 2 but it’s still good, it gets the job done and the reinventions of older heroes works.
All in all if you have the time and cash, and aren’t expecting anything mind blowing I’d recommend checking this out.
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eweniversal · 6 years ago
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Secrets of A Councilwoman p2
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-PART 2-
Her mind didn’t stop from going over the searing words Rinlear had thrown at her. Like reopening scarred over wounds that had long since healed, his insults seemed to tear through her flesh.
“You still can’t do anything yourself. You need big, strong men to do everything for you.”
We can do what we need by ourselves. A soothing feeling like thick, sickeningly sweet molasses oozing through her veins came with this inner voice. It always did.
Yes.. I’m dependent on no one but me.
“You would sacrifice the spawn of your womb if it granted you more power!”
We did what had to be done. The sacrifice is for the betterment of all!
And I would do it again.
“No sister of mine. You’re no sister. Not mine. You’re no SISTER of mine!”
And he is no brother!
Brothers do not abandon their sister!
“Nor a sister who’d ‘spare’ their brother out of convenience or abandon their lover! You left us! You abandoned Echertai!”
Echertai’s face flashed behind her eyelids as she continued her power walk through the castle, his face staring at her almost as clearly as if he were standing right in front of her. “Ah!” Her eyes opened wide, staring hard in front of her. All too suddenly, Rinlear’s previous actions caught up to her and sent her kneeling to the ground. Limbs shaking, she took several minutes to readjust herself to her environment.
What do we taste?
Bile.
What do we feel?
Smooth, stone floor. Cool to the touch.
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, a ring starting to drown her thoughts.
What do we hear?
Birds.. Somewhere. Talking.. Nearby, but not getting closer. Safe from view.
The ringing slowly died away.
What do we smell?
Baking. From the kitchens. Bread, muffins, cookies?
What do we see?
Her eyes opened slowly, lifting her head to see where exactly she was. The entire layout of Maerise she knew like the back of her hand as she was intimately involved in the original building process, but where she was specifically was a passageway from the original design she’d implemented herself. It was hidden, but not completely secret, and ran near the kitchens on the ground floor. It led to a staircase that connected to a covered archway that overlooked much of the city.
Stone. Torchlight. A window. Blue sky, through the window.
Exhaling a held breath, Kotaphira stood slowly, placing a hand on the wall for support. For the first time, instead of feeling comforted by her sanctuary of stone, an essence of claustrophobia had washed over her. She needed fresh air.
Her gait picked up again as she mentally reviewed Rinlear’s words once more.
“I want you to decide upon one soul to sacrifice to me, one for every head we have in audience here. You’ll announce them by name at the city square.”
What a sick minded fool. The fact that he would suggest such a thing so vile made her stomach twist. Was he trying to use that as a ploy to upset her into giving in to some other agenda he had? He had no upper hand, nothing to bargain with! His madness must have settled well in a long time ago.
“These twisted lengths you're willing to go through will not be kept hidden."
This was what worried her most. He seemed to see through her, and not need to ask why he was detained, but rather willing to express intentions she may have with him to others. It was as if he understood he was a part of a much bigger puzzle that she was constructing.
“You left us! You abandoned Echertai!”
Her head shook and she gasped softly, pausing at this. No time for your poisonous remarks, demon. She had more important things to deal with. First of which, finding her sons. They would need to be approached, told of Rinlear, and perhaps give some tweaking to the information about him, then guide them along with the one called Boar’s Head and this other Kotaphira to where she needed them. Summoning a spirit of the dead would be no easy task, and defeating one would likely cause at least one of their deaths. If she had to choose, by process of elimination, it would have to be her doppelganger. She had no ties to the girl, and maybe, just- maybe, she could fake her own death with the death of the girl’s. Then she could, if all went well, enjoy her spoils of that Other Place. So long as the dragons were paid off for their precious gifts. That debt was one yet to be paid, and while the Ulpustur dragons had not come to collect just yet, she didn’t want to be caught blindsided. They didn’t need to know how much wealth she’d stumbled upon when she got to the Other Place- she hoped their noses were not so keen on realizing how MUCH wealth was in one spot.
The arches of the walkway she was on let in the afternoon light, and she paused mid-stride to stare at the stone floor in front of her.
-Abandoned…-
Don’t look at me.
Birds chirped, fluttering by as they flew to the walkway above.
Stop it.
From below in the city, the shouts of vendors echoed up, along with the laughter of children and the clattering of carts and hooves. A crier gave updates on the still missing princess Mylla, asking anyone for information on the young girl’s whereabouts.
With a harsh turn, Kotaphira gripped on to the stone ledge and yelled through the archway, looking not at the city below, but what loomed over, white stone perfectly poised in place nearby. “GET OUT OF MY HEAAAD!!”
Silence filled the air after the echo of her voice faded. Luckily for everyone down below, she didn’t use her magical voice in her yell. People in the streets stopped their ongoings to turn and stare up at the crazed old half-Elfirrin woman, birds flying away from the area as fast as they could.
“Shouting at him won’t bring him to life, you know.” Verusk, the king’s advisor, casually rested his shoulder on a post several feet away with his arms crossed over leather and velvet robes. Warm, for the end of spring.
You think I don’t know that! “Oh!” She turned to face him. She had been so overwhelmed with the moment she’d not realized he was standing there. “Ah… I’ll be on my way.”
He pushed himself off the pillar he was against, keeping to the shadowed area of the path as he took a few steps closer. “I think you could use someone to talk to, other than our proud marble representative on the mountain there. Captain Echertai, as good a listener as you claim he was, can only do so much now.. Come, speak with me. Would you, councilwoman?” He gave a smile that was intended to be warm.
“Ah... certainly.” She nodded curtly, needing to bite her lip at his comments about her old friend and lover. More than anything, she wanted to get back to her ‘pet project’. “Is there something you needed? Is my son giving you trouble again over allowances?” Her brain scrambled to find recent topics.
“No, Samund has been quite cooperative- he’s still learning the ropes of being on the council.” He shook his head, “Actually, there’s been talk of some secret happenings going on under our castle’s roof.” He stood straight, stiffening his pose. He was serious.
Does he know of Rinlear? Her head tilted, inquisitive at his questioning. “Secrets? Is that really a new thing, Verusk?” She teased.
His long black hair waved as a strong breeze pushed through the archways, flowers in the planters stinking the air as they danced with the wind. “Perhaps not. But this is something you may be interested in.”
“In what way?” She sounded clueless as ever, perfectly fitting her role, but still irritated that he was stopping her from getting to her goal.
“It seems..” His voice lowered as he stepped closer, not wanting his voice to carry. “Someone.. Or some people, have been poisoning our dragon eggs.”
She blinked. “What?” That was serious cause for concern. The military had recently adapted the dragon rider force over the course of the last 20 years, and it had been quite a success- not to mention these were the very gifts from the Ulpustur dragons. Precious and valuable to the Maerisian forces. Who would sabotage that?
He glanced around, checking their surroundings as his large pointed ears turned with his head. The Arc’hildean night-Elfirrin looked back to her and whispered “Perhaps here is not the best place to discuss this. Shall we go to my office?”
The last thing she wanted was a distraction, and time to do what she needed was limited. But this was… troubling. What group or person would do such a thing? “Very well.” She walked next to him, keeping her head held high.
“How has Taskell been? We hardly hear from that troublemaker these days.” Smalltalk from Verusk meant he was in a troubled mood. Which could mean the king was in some sort of danger. If the dragon eggs and hatchlings were in danger in the safest place in the castle, so too could Selreth be. Verusk never attempted to get involved with anyone unless there was something wrong with King Selreth’s safety.
“Hm.” She nodded, but didn’t say anything to respond. She didn’t have time for this, and getting involved with his safety measures was not entirely her job.
The silence between them grew, and Verusk seemed desperate to close it. “So many flowers have been blooming this spring. The apothecaries are working overtime for anti-allergen potions. It seems we are running low on- get this- frusian leaf. The thing grows like weeds on the hillsides, and no one wants to bother risking their fingers on digging them out of the ground.” He was amused at that. “So the apothecaries who have more of the potion are overpricing their products! Imagine, paying fifty LP for a simple anti-allergen potion.”
“Highway robbery due to laziness. It’s not a new concept.” She finally obliged a little to his chatter. But the silence continued once more, and she noticed his irritation, though if one did not know him well would presume he was nervous. Still, she kept silent and followed along the hallways to his office.
By the time they arrived at his office, she was in a more sour mood. Time was dropping like sand from Midra’s hourglass. He shut the door tight behind them and moved to make tea.
“I’m needed elsewhere, Verusk, and having pleasantries with the king’s advisor in closed quarters hardly seems appropriate.” Her jaws clenched, irritated. She didn’t move from her spot by the door, already feeling claustrophobic for the second time, now from the shelves of books that lined his walls and the large map of the city that hung over his tea making station. 
It seemed she hadn’t completely gotten over her episode from earlier.
He didn’t turn around as he prepared the pot, using an apothecary’s torch to light a small metal ring underneath. Carefully he put the torch away as the ring grew bright and orange, heating the water inside the pot. “Refusing tea from your host is quite an insult, even in Maerise. Isn’t that right?” He moved to set cups and cookies from a covered plate to a tray with a small container of sweetjuice from a miro’ak plant and another of milk. After the water was hot, he poured it into the cups over leaves and set it on his desk. When she made no effort to move from her spot, he picked up her cup and held it out to her. “Milk?”
“Will you get to the point!” Kotaphira huffed as she walked over, took the tea from him and set it firmly on his desk.
“Really. You can’t make a moment, even for me?” Irritation bubbled up in his tone. “We have been through enough together as it is, and you act like this now! Have I upset you that much over that incident that you still give me this cold shoulder?”
At that, she pinched the bridge of her nose and sat down. One time, and he still holds it over my head! How many years ago was that? And nothing even happened! “Was this all a ruse, just to get me alone!”
He scoffed before exhaling, turning to the large window behind his desk and opening the drapes on half the window, light from outside illuminating where she sat. “No. There is a group out there doing terrible things. But I did wish to see you. It has been awhile since we sat and… talked.” he was almost glaring at her with his golden eyes as he sat down.
She responded with a hard glare of her own, squinting from the light. “Ah, it seems we’ve talked, thank you for the tea.” She moved to get up and he laughed, sourly.
“Ahaha! Oh, you’re always in such a hurry, fair Kotaphira! Five. Minutes. Please.” His motioned to the empty chair. “We have to discuss the dragons, at least.” His frustration at her was still quite obvious.
His compliment made her skin crawl, but she sat back down anyway.
After a deep breath, he started once more, careful with his words. “The Festival of Lights is soon, and Queen Sylvarra has invited leaders from around Erai’hym, including King Selreth, his family, and a few others to join her in her palace on the Fertile Peninsula in Lutria.”
“Yes, I heard about this carousel.” She had intended to use that time to put her plan into action, but with Mylla ‘missing’, Selreth wasn’t ready to set foot anywhere if it wasn’t intended to find his precious brat.
Verusk let out an amused snort of air from his nose. “I know, you don’t care for such festivities, but considering it would be on neutral ground for once, I think it would be an excellent chance for us here to get in on her good graces. Also, seeing as you are our founder and are best at working… peaceful negotiations, you would be a valuable asset to this social get-together.”
“The king won’t have it.”
He looked confused. “How-,”
“So long as young Mylla is missing, he won’t even start to think about attending a gathering like that. You know this. Why can’t your protective mind extend further than the King and his ‘assets’?” Her head shook. “So long as you keep close minded on situations like that, you won’t get far.” She would make sure Mylla was found well before the festival, but the ruse needed to stay up- for now.
His tone turned teasing for a moment. “You insult me, councilwoman Arculum. I know where my priorities lie, and I am very familiar with what the king is motivated by.”
That wasn’t quite the response she expected from him. She thought he was going to say, The king and his family are always first to me! My loyalty is to them! That seemed to be his initial outgoing response to most things. What changed, she wondered. “What is it you are motivated by, then?”
A smirk, and he leaned back in his chair, thin fingers interlacing. “Quite simple, really. Power. But! You know me, I cannot work well without someone’s guidance and push. The dynamic between Selreth and I is a bond that is intricately entwined. If something were to happen to him, it affects me directly.”
“Then why are you not down in the streets looking for Mylla as he is?”
Had she caught him off guard? The look on his face seemed to insinuate so. But he gathered himself in a dignified and convincing way. “Someone has to cover the day-to-day nonsense.” He motioned to the stacks of paper littering his desk. “I do this, as he trusts me to, so that he may have some ease in searching for his beloved child. She is of my flesh and blood too, remember.”
“Yes, your niece’s mother is a very prominent member of our society.” Kotaphira couldn’t help the almost snotty tone she took when she said that. She disliked his sister; but, there were few people she liked. “Can we get back to the matter at hand? You mentioned dying dragons.”
“First, answer. Will you attend the festival with me?”
“No. What are the rest of these people’s motives?”
He let another dry laugh before idly tracing the rim of his cup. “You are, without a doubt, one of the most apathetic and aloof women I have ever met. If Mylla is found before then, will you attend?”
“IF she is found…” By the time she is found, I will not even be here. And if I am, this will be the least of my worries! “Ask me at a more appropriate time.” Like, never.
He seemed quite amused still. “Alright. You win. I will ask again later.” He sat back, watching her.
“So? The dragons?”
“Yes, yes. This group-,“ He sat straighter in his chair. “This group seems to have an agenda that the dragons are not welcome here. That because they are not magical like the large dragons from the Ulpustur Region, they must be creatures from Herac’ine. Not only that, if you notice, none of the dragon riders are, or have been, human.”
“What does that have to do with anything? The bond between a dragon and dragon rider is not one that happens by chance- the dragonling chooses their rider. Everyone knows this.” This did sound like a serious issue.
“People want equality, fellow councilwoman. There’s something more. There’s quite the unrest in the city, and not just from Mylla’s disappearance. Many Elfirrin and those with Elfirrin blood have reported feeling agitated and highly so. I myself have felt this uneasiness recently, but only when I’m down walking in the streets. Trocbloods, Derhanish, and others have not.” His eyebrows came together as he thought over this. “It’s possible our Elfirrin blood may have a virus of some sort that is infecting others. So be wary of that.”
“I’m fine.” Nothing out of the usual, anyway. Or.. so she figured. “About the dragons- Why did you not take this to Steirtorim?”
“He’s been out of commission for the past several weeks, under your orders, I found out. I could hound you for the reasons as to why it was so pertinent you reassign our captain to an unknown location.”
“And Stiphen? He is the commander, after all.”
“Now, I couldn’t rightly bring out an accusation like that against him.”
It took her a second to process what he meant. “You think- Stiphen is a part of this group!?” A serious accusation against the old man. There were rumors of some higher ups being racist, but racism had never been an issue in Maerise. If Verusk was one of these racists, however… “What of me? Why tell me?”
“Your motives would not follow that agenda. We all worked too hard for the chance at those dragons, none of us would threaten or hurt them now. It makes logical sense.”
“But logical sense is not proof. Bring me proof of all this- any of this, and I’ll listen to more of what you have to say. But for now, I have a meeting to arrange.” She wanted nothing more than to leave the conversation. There were more important matters to attend to than his dislike and potential slander against her city guard, and the commander, an old friend.
“The proof of the poisoning is there! All you have to do is go and see, I’ll take you to the handlers myself!”
She was already moving to leave.
“Kotaphira- why did you have Captain Steirtorim reassigned?”
“It’s a private matter.”
“So you hire a private thug. Not the city’s captain!”
“I think you’ll find he’ll be back in his own bed tonight. Check there and discuss this issue with him then, and maybe you two can speculate more on this ‘cult’ of yours.” With that, she stood and went to the door, firmly grasping the handle.
He exhaled. “Kotaphira.” His tone had softened considerably. “What should I tell Selreth you’ve done with Steir?”
Informal now. She hated the switch he was able to flip when he wanted more information. The fact that he used Steirtorim’s nickname meant he was thinking back to their ‘adventures’ thirty years prior when they made the pact with the Ulpustur dragons- Selreth, Steirtorim, Verusk, his sister Aneela, and herself were forced together at the time in that unknown place, but they learned how to work together and in the end brought back an agreement of peace and several small dragon eggs. Along with an empty promise to pay handsomely for these eggs should the Ulpustur dragons ever come to collect. Kotaphira knew as soon as her sacrifice was made and access to the Other Place was opened, those dragons would smell the wealth and gather. She’d have to share her greed, and she wasn’t quite sure how much she was ready to surrender to a bunch of money hungry fire breathing lizards.
“Ask Steirtorim that. And don’t bother me again.” She left, closing the door loudly behind her, leaving her untouched tea on the desk.
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Of Monsters And Men |4|
Pairing: (eventual) Dean x Reader Warnings:a bit of angst? Nothing serious.  Word Count:1k A/N: HUGE thanks to @petra-arkanian-1497 for helping me out with this, she saved my ass. This is mostly a filler chapter but I really liked it idk. Promising enough? Tell me how you liked it!
Masterlist – Catch up HERE (Part 1) - Series Masterlist
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(Can we just talk about how beautiful this gif is. Found on Google Images credits to owner)
Of Monsters And Men IV:  Lean on Me
When Dean walks back through the door of his house, Y/n has managed to stack the dirty plates tidily by the sink and has moved herself to the couch where she is now napping. A small pit of guilt forms in the bottom of his stomach for making her stand and walk with legs she’s never used before, alone, but it quickly diminishes as he thinks back on his day.
The walk he’d taken calmed him down a little. He’d rolled his pants legs and walked along the shore, dipped his feet in the water, holding his shoes in his hands. Eventually, he’d stopped walking, a good five hundred feet away from his beloved house. He’d turned to look up at it, the rays of sun tracing its familiar outline, briefly recalling how long it had taken to save up for it and rebuilt it. He’d scrunched his toes in the damp sand, feeling the softness of the retreating tide and taking a deep breath, his thoughts going a million miles a second.
Now mermaids are real? Jesus Christ, what a mess. A whole new world, a species only he knew about. The amount of responsibility that had now fallen on his shoulders was massive, too big to handle alone, but he had no idea who to turn to.
He found himself trying to decide if the girl in his house just that, a girl. Were mermaids human? Were they animals? Well, that depended on what how you’d define the word human- No and no. He is not going there.
The idea of her being a monster didn’t even cross his mind.
What did mermaids even eat? She ate her cheeseburger earlier, liked it, too. He supposed some part of her had to be human. How was he supposed to house her? Did she even know how the human world works? It’d be like raising a child. Would she ever go back to her home? The sea? He felt stupid just thinking about this absurd concept.
He’d sat down on a rock, a few feet ways from the shore, and gazed distantly at the horizon, watching the last hues of apricot and bubble-gum pink fade slowly. He’d watched the waves come and go with a peaceful force that died away quickly but smoothly, the familiar, salty fragrance of the ocean putting him instantly at ease. This was safe, familiar, the ocean. Or so he had thought.
Shit, how was he supposed to handle this?
He patted his pockets, finding his smartphone in his front pocket. Dialing the one number he’d never forget, he sat with his feet planted on the ground and his elbow rested on his knees, phone pressed to his ear.
“Hey,” Sam’s voice was almost a whisper.
“Heya, Sammy.” He sighed.
“It didn’t go well, did it?” Yeah, how could the younger Winchester have known when he’d told his brother to just talk to her and not make any assumptions?
“Well, I didn’t have to talk to her.” Dean remarks sarcastically, shoulders sagging and toes curling around a pebble.
“What do you mean?”
Dean explained exactly what had happened. From the second he walked in the house to finding a giant fish in his damn tub, having to take her out of the water and watch the gigantic, colorful, stunning tail transform into legs and her fiery hair turn back to the raven black that he was familiar with, the second air reached her lungs.
“Dean?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you drunk? Or stoned? Or both?”
“I wish.”
Sam promised to come down to visit and meet this mysterious girl –“Mermaid I’m telling you. Not a girl, a friggin’ mermaid.” “Okay, sure. Mermaid. Whatever”- as soon as possible.
So Dean decided it was time to go back.
And there she is, curled up on his couch, again.
What has he gotten himself into? Christ.
He’d dressed her into one of his old, burgundy Henleys that Jessica had bought him and damn did it look good on her. She was beautiful with long, coal colored hair that fell into smooth waves, much like the ocean under the moon.
He didn’t sleep that night.
He spent hours tossing and turning under his covers, tried calming his rapidly beating heart, tried catching even twenty minutes of shut-eye. But he didn’t, his brain a mess of cluttered thoughts.
Giving up, he climbed out of bed and walked down the hall. Raising his eyes, he meets her form and halts.
She’s standing up, or at least trying to. He can hear her soft grunts and huffs as she clutches the arm of the couch, but he makes no move to go help. She takes three really fast breaths before she thrusts herself up to her full height. Arms waving around almost comically, she wobbles and curses under her breath before she steadies.
Smooth legs bare, only in a bandage that’s covering her left thigh, his shirt covering her butt and swallowing her whole and he finds himself short in breath.
She turns slowly and hesitantly tries to take a first step, hand gripping the arm of the couch tightly. Her knee almost buckles and she leans on the couch that’s a little too short for her.
It hits him just then that maybe he’s being a little selfish. Hell, she was dumped in a world she knows nothing about, injured, clueless and scared. She’d had her first encounter with a human, gotten new limbs and on top of everything she has this asshole person yelling at her for all of it, as if he was the victim.
He isn’t.
And yet through all of it, here she is. Fighting.
Dean Winchester, speechless, makes his decision and appears in her field of vision. She stifles a gasp of surprise. He walks around the couch, approaching her very slowly, as if to not scare her. He offers his hand and she looks at it, scared that he’ll lash out again and it sends a spark of guilt through him. A small reassuring smile tugs the corners of his lips. Her eyes examine his expression, then his hand and then his eyes, and before he knows it, she’s giving him the brightest, kindest, most grateful smile he’s ever seen.
She takes his hand and it feels like the world just comfortably slid into place.
He steps closer to her, forearm under hers so she can use him as a crutch, fingers lacing.
“C’mon,” he breathes, voice a low rumble. “Lean on me.”
She takes her first step.
Part 5 :D
Taglists! (Which, by the way, you can join hERE)
Forevers:
@deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @deanssweetheart23 @nostalgic-uncertainty @twentyoneredsocks @dancerwithapen @mogaruke @superseejay721517 @andi-winchester @lady-hawkguy @thosefeelsarereal @superwholockmarauder  @justiceiswater @petra-arkanian-1497 @heyitscam99 @danijimenezv
 Dean/Jensen Taglist
@akshi8278 @winchester-writes @p3nny4urth0ught5 @ruprecht0420 @imascio08 @infinity-dreamchaser @sherlockstolemyname
 Of Monsters And Men Taglist
@waywardsoulpainter @to-stars-and-back @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @infinity-dreamchaser @drae654321 @rosethesupernaturalhunter
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punk-is-notdead · 7 years ago
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Fic title: How To Get Him To Kiss You, by Castiel   by tfw_cas
Rating: Explicit
Tags: Castiel (Supernatural) Dean Winchester Sam Winchester Jack (Supernatural) Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss Research Clueless Dean Winchester Hand Jobs
Summary:  Castiel has noticed some signs which seem to indicate that Dean wants to kiss him, but he has no idea what he should do to actually make it happen. Could research be the answer? Could it even help in a way that Castiel doesn't anticipate?
AO3
Castiel was frustrated, confused… irritated. He was a millennia old being, with more experience of humanity than anyone living, and yet he did not know how to kiss the object of his affection. In fact, he didn't even know how to approach the subject. He had told Dean that he loved him, when he thought he was about to die, but Dean didn't reply, or show any hint that he felt the same. Castiel could almost convince himself that Dean wasn't interested, and yet…
Whenever they stood close Dean would stare at his lips, and sometimes his gaze would travel lower. Then there was all the touching; Dean would find an excuse to touch him whenever he could, on the shoulder, the back, and sometimes on the face. Castiel loved it when Dean touched his face. They had hugged a few times too, but that was always when one of them had nearly died, or thought they were going to die. Oh yes, and there was also the constant ‘accidental’ brushing of fingers, which were actually driving him insane. What in Chuck’s name was Castiel supposed to do with all of this?
Research.
Castiel decided that he would research the shit out of the subject; find out how to look for clues, what he should do to help things along, that kind of thing.
Typing ‘How do I know if a guy wants to kiss me’ into Google came up with many results. Castiel clicked on one, which gave a list of signs to look for.
How close does he sit when you're alone together? If he sits in close proximity, and even has his limbs touching yours, then it could be one of the signs he wants to kiss you. Well, Dean had all but sat in his lap when he had stormed into the cafe when Castiel was talking to Ishim. They weren't alone together, but Dean had shown no concept of personal space at all.
If he keeps glancing down at your lips, it's because he wants to touch them. Of course, he could also want to kiss you if he's staring into your eyes. There were so many instances of Dean doing both that Castiel wouldn't know where to start.
If he keeps licking his lips or touching them with his hands, it's a good sign. Castiel could instantly recall a number of times that Dean had done this.
If he's flirting with you, then there's definitely some chemistry between you. If he's way more flirty than usual, it could mean that he's hoping for a kiss. Castiel remembered Dean saying. “There are two things that I know for certain. One, Bert and Ernie are gay. Two, you are not gonna die a virgin. Not under my watch." Was that considered flirting? He was pretty sure it was.
If he touches your arm when he's talking, or rests his hand on your thigh, he likes having his hands on you. Giving you little touches is a stepping stone toward giving you a kiss. Again, there were so many times Dean had touched him unnecessarily - although not on the thigh.
People like to kiss things they find pretty. If he keeps complimenting you, then he obviously likes what he sees. Dean had called him devastatingly handsome; that was most definitely a compliment, and had made Castiel's heart sing.
There were a couple of points that didn't seem to apply to Dean, but Castiel liked the final part: If a guy shows only one of these signs, it might not mean much, but if a few of them are true, then the chances are high that he wants his lips pressed against yours.
When it was all put together, this was some very useful information. Although Castiel was still unsure what to do with it. Should he show it to Dean? Ask him to explain himself?
He had a feeling that this would not be a very good move.
Well, maybe Castiel would have to use those same moves on Dean. He decided to carry on, and Google ‘types of kiss’. He was faced with a lot of results, so he thought it best to click on the first one: ‘20 Different Types of Kisses and What They Actually Mean’. As Castiel began to scroll down the page, he saw another link: ‘How to kiss’, but before he could click on this one, Dean came into the kitchen. Castiel slammed the laptop closed, and looked up at his friend, smiling.
“Mornin’ sunshine.” Was that a flirtation? “Want some coffee?” Dean held Castiel's gaze as he waited for the angel to reply.
“Yes please Dean.”
Dean moved over to the coffee machine, and set about making two cups; one for each of them. “What were you doing on the laptop, Cas?” Dean sat next to him, with barely any space between them, and Castiel could feel the heat coming from his body.
Castiel fumbled for a reply to Dean's question. “C-cats.”
“You were looking at cats on the internet? That's adorable… I mean hilarious. Erm, *cough* did you find any good videos?”
“No.”
“Oh. Well, give me the laptop and I'll find you some.”
“No, it-it's okay. I can find my own cat videos.”
Dean furrowed his brow and gave Castiel a sceptical look. “It wasn't cat videos, was it? You were watching porn, weren't you?”
Dean smiled as he said this, but Castiel saw a distinct flash of jealousy in those green eyes.
“No, I was not watching porn Dean. I was doing… erm, research.”
“Oh. Well, show me what you're researching then, so I can help you.”
Castiel panicked, as he realised that he wasn't going to be able to get out of this. The only thing he could hope for was an interruption. Where were Sam and Jack when he needed them? Slowly lifting the laptop lid, Castiel seriously considered zapping off to somewhere safer, but he hadn't done that since Lucifer had almost killed him the night Jack was born. Dean had been very careful to make sure that Castiel didn't leave the bunker without him, and Castiel didn't want to upset him, despite knowing that he was going to have a lot of explaining to do.
Growing impatient, Dean pulled the laptop towards him. “Jeez Cas, could you go any slow-��� His words caught in his throat when he saw what was on the screen. “Were you researching kissing, Cas? Did you meet someone?” Now there was definite jealousy on Dean's face.
Castiel wondered how long it would take Dean to realise that this was impossible, as they had barely left each other's side in weeks. He didn't speak, just waited for the penny to drop, which was probably going to happen any moment now, as Dean had just clicked on the other tab Castiel had open.
“7 signs he wants to kiss you? Did… did you meet a guy, Cas?” Oh, shit. Dean's expression had gone from jealousy to hurt.
“Dean, let me explain.”
“Nah, it's okay Cas. It looks like you've got this all figured out. I’ll leave you to your ‘research’.” Dean stood up to leave, and Castiel knew he had to stop him.
“Dean, could you help me with this research? You know more about this than I do.” This was a crazy thing to say, Castiel knew this, but he had to get Dean to stay.
“You want me. To help you find out how to kiss another guy? I mean… a guy.” Dean didn't look happy at all.
“Yes. Maybe you could… show me.” Castiel couldn't decide if this tactic was ridiculous, or a really clever way of finally getting to kiss Dean.
Dean blinked a few times, then slowly nodded his head. “I could, um… show you, yeah.”
He pulled Castiel to his feet, and they faced each other, staring into each other's eyes, as they so often did. Then Dean moved right into his personal space, and cupped his cheek with his hand.
“So, this is good for a first kiss.” Dean moved forward until their lips were almost touching, and after a brief hesitation, brushed his lips softly against Castiel's. They were barely making contact, but Castiel could feel the blood rushing through his veins, as if they were on fire. He wanted to put his arms around the hunter and feel him, but held back, for fear of giving too much away.
Dean pulled back, breathing heavily, and made eye contact with Castiel again. His pupils were dilated, and he was blushing beautifully. He cleared his throat, but when he spoke his voice was rough. “Yeah… so, that's how you kiss.”
He looked like he was about to leave again, so Castiel spoke up. “Thank you Dean.” He surprised himself when he noticed how deep his own voice had gotten, and Dean's eyes widened with desire?
“Is that all I need to know about kissing, Dean? Could you teach me anything else?”
Without saying a word Dean pulled Castiel into his arms, so that their bodies were flush against each other. He lifted one hand and placed it in the angel’s hair, and began to stroke it.
“Pull him close and whisper in his ear. Can I kiss you?” Dean's lips brushed over his ear as he whispered into it, and Castiel's breath hitched.
“Y-yes, please. Please kiss me, Dean.” Castiel’s eyes fluttered closed, and he felt Dean shift slightly before their mouths collided.
This kiss was not like the first; where that one was soft and gentle, this was hard and passionate, and Castiel thought he might pass out. Dean was not kissing, so much as devouring him. Those beautiful lips were as skilled as Castiel would have expected; moving against his with a perfection. And he was making this moaning sound, and pushing his tongue into Castiel's mouth.
As soon as they had started kissing, Castiel had wound his arms around Dean's back. Now he yanked the hunter’s shirt free of his pants and caressed the skin with one hand, while carefully sliding the other hand into Dean's pants. Castiel grabbed hold of his ass and squeezed; drawing out the most amazing sound from the man as they pulled apart for air.
“Oh fuck… Cas. Yes, right there.” Dean sounded utterly wrecked, and Castiel vowed to make him sound worse, as he moved his mouth down to Dean's neck and covered it in kisses. Their lower bodies were now grinding together; hips rolling, and erections rubbing against each other, through their clothing.
“Ohhhhh… holy fuck. Cas!” Dean shouted out as Castiel sucked a mark into his skin.
He was hardly aware of the noises he was making, until Dean groaned out “Cas, if you keep grinding against me and making porn noises I’m gonna come in my pants.”
The angel growled in response. “Do it. Come for me, Dean. I want to hold you while you orgasm.” He slid his hand around to the front of Dean's pants and took hold of his cock. Almost immediately, the man reached his climax, and his release pulsed out of him, over Castiel's hand and onto his clothing.
“Sweet mother of Chuck, Cas. That was awesome.” It had taken a few moments for Dean to be able to speak again, and a guilty look suddenly crossed his face. “Shit, what about the man you met? I’m sorry Cas.”
“The man I met? Well… he has just had a spectacular orgasm, and I’m hoping he is about to return the favour.”
“Ohhhh.” A realisation hit Dean, and he chuckled. “Why, you sneaky son of a bitch. Wait… 7 signs he wants to kiss you? That was about me?”
“Everything is about you, Dean. For me, anyway.”
“Well, I think it's about time we made it about you. C’mon angel.” Dean tried to straighten himself up as he took Castiel's hand to lead him to the bedroom. There were a few more things he was hoping to teach him.
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rough-tweed-action · 8 years ago
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🔥 about tjlc and the tinfoil hat conspiracists
This is a tough one. I'm guessing my opinion (why are they doing this to themselves?) is actually a popular one. So, an unpopular opinion about these people, hmm.
Have you seen Rowan Atkinson's sketch about Toby the Devil? He welcomes souls to hell and divides them into groups: murderers, thieves, French and lastly, Christians. 'Christians? Ah yes, I’m sorry, I’m afraid the Jews were right.' Apart from being hilarious, it makes me wonder: what if we, the non-johnlockers, are wrong and they are right? What if everything I think I know about Sherlock is wrong because I'm a straight, adult woman and judging from the post-TFP dramatic posts, the majority of the cult consists of gay youth. What if BBC Sherlock really is a romantic story and I saw none of that because I'm biased?
What if they were rightfully angry after series 4? I mean, from what I heard, they predicted TAB's content pretty well. Maybe they aren't as delusional as we think. Maybe they were, in fact, portrayed on the show not only as the First TJCLer Hudders but also as the league of furies. Maybe today's gay youth needs more recognition than suffragettes. I don't know.
What if Mofftiss did betray them? What if they intentionally made Sherlock gay and John bi to attract the attention of gay fans? What if they wanted to give them the kiss, but the BBC didn't let them?What if Mark Gatiss, who seems like a lovely person, is actually the evil incarnate and a homophobic, cruel gay who likes to torment people like him? How can I tell? I don't know him. What if Mofftiss are lying liars who lie about lying about lying about lying and they really are playing a long game here. Maybe they intentionally made series 4 not gay and hurt the fans only to make the kiss in series 5 sweeter? Who can tell?
Did Gatiss honestly tell gay fans via Mary that it doesn't matter who they really are? Would he do that? Will he and Moffat butcher Dracula and make him not explicitly gay?
What if I, a Sheriarty shipper, completely misinterpreted the Moriarty episodes? What if Sherlock is, in fact, scared of Moriarty and there's no chemistry? Perhaps Sherlock wanted to catch Moriarty to save John and be gay with him? Could the Sheriarty content be just a cynical milkshake to lure the hungry Fannibals to the yard? What if the Sheriarty scene from TAB was not sentimentally and sexually charged? What if Moriarty's motivation was 'if I can't have you, then no one can'? WHAT IF SHERLOCK JUST HAD A GUN IN HIS POCKET AND WASN’T PLEASED TO SEE HIM?
What if Adlock isn't canon? Is Irene's theme really a johnlock theme? The person who deflowered Sherlock, Irene or John? Were Irene's pupils dilated because she was scared? Did she say 'Well I am [gay], look at us both' to prove there was no Adlock, not because saying 'Well I am bisexual' would make no sense? Were all the reminders of Irene meaningless? Do I ship it bc I'm straight? Was I.... straight-baited?
Was it a coincidence that Sherlock said 'I'm you' to Jim and played Irene's theme when asked to play himself? Was the Adlock/Sheriarty mash-up (TAB) unimportant? Is Sherlock actually attracted only to his exact opposite, John boring dull predictable Watson?
What if that Arwel guy is not a funny person who likes elephants and things that glow? What if he taunted the cult with gay elephants all those years? I'm actually surprised to have heard of the Eurus' glass elephant just recently and not from a cult member. Huh. Is the glowing skull a secret sign? What if the billboards from HLV were not a coincidence?
And what if all the small inconsistencies like the disappearing John from the T6T scene with Hopkins are, in fact, important? Look, as a Holmescest shipper, I watched the Unwise, brother mine scene many, many times. Two inconsistencies there. 
What if the First TJLCer and John are actually likeable characters? Is John's abusive behaviour excusable bc of sexual frustration and being closeted? Was his awful comment about Mycroft (what goes around comes around) justified? We may never know.
Is johnlock actually a sweet, lovely, vanilla ship, romantic and pure? Despite all the women deceived and used to stop the gossip? It bothers me, actually. Maybe it's because I think that honesty in any relationship is crucial. Did Sherlock and John really flirt with each other in Mary's or Irene's presence? Did John make a decision to marry Mary just to prove he's straight, although he could have just ditch the bitch and make out with his loved-up booooooooooyfriend? Is it ok for a bi-curious person to lie to their straight partner and use them a shield? Should I root for a gay couple who try to get together on the fucking WEDDING RECEPTION in front of the clueless bride? Is this good? Do I find it disgusting and inexcusable bc I'm not gay? Maybe it is a gay fantasy, the opposite of the hetero wish to turn a gay person straight?  Mystery.
Is this theory that the true villain of BBC Sherlock is anyone who thinks Sherlock is not gay right? Do I erase an important part of his personality bc I don't want Sherlock the fictional character to be happy the way he should have been from the start? Was ACD inspired by Oscar Wilde and the original Sherlock Holmes was in as gay as Wilde? Did Watson invent Mary Morstan to be safely gay with Holmes?
Is the unaired pilot gay and I can't see it bc I am not? Did Sherlock say that he knew being gay is fine not because John said his 'which is fine' the way I say 'I do like the Germans and I’m not scared of the German nationalism and do not resent them for using the most hideous language in the world, no sir'? Did Sherlock never correct the people who assumed he was John's boyfriend not because he simply didn't care what they thought about him?
What if Mary killed herself to make Sherlock commit suicide? What if Sherlock hated her the whole time and only pretended he liked her, so very convincingly? Did he and John conspire to murder her while she was heavily pregnant and sipped tea in John's chair? Was she the real Moriarty? Did she work for CAM? For Mycroft? Did the homicidal Sherlock and John try to protect her from Ajay because... they wanted to kill her themselves?
Was the Warstan reunion in HLV not sweet and realistic but sinister? Did John threaten her while she was pregnant with his child?
Is the *sigh* M theory true? Moriarty, Mary and Magnussen using Mycroft to destroy johnlock? Because nothing else that universe is more important than these two Brits licking Marmite off the other's prick.
What if our perception of the acronym cult is wrong? Maybe it's not just toxic. Maybe it helps its members embrace their sexuality. Maybe they were just trying to defend themselves? Maybe the only member who needed therapy was one of the leaders? Was it ok for another leader, the one who's still active, to respond to my message by going through my blog and judging the content? Despite my having mentioned twice in the message that I was just curious and had no evil intentions. I'm no expert.
Is the concept of a slow-burn romance (with a huge portion of miscommunication) between John and Sherlock possible? Wouldn't Sherlock just say: 'John, we should kiss, for science!' or John, when Sherlock returned, 'I have missed you so much. Don't ever leave again. Also, I love you, I can say this now.'
Did the suggestion to name the baby Sherlock actually meant 'I wish we have got married, I'd love to be your Sherlock Watson'? Did John the free widower say 'the chance doesn't last forever' and put so much emphasis on the word 'alive' because... I dunno, really.
Does John's 'I am not gay/not Sherlock's boyfriend' mean: 'I'm bisexual and would love to show Sherlock some military discipline'? Wouldn’t bi-John feel comfortable with Hudders, enough to tell her his secret?
Was John's reaction to Mary's death really less emotional than his reaction to Sherlock's suicide?
Was John's WTF when Janine strode out of Sherlock's bedroom jealousy and not the strong feeling that Sherlock either changed overnight or was doing some serious bullshitting?
Is Sherlock’s reaction to Janine and that other female character flirting with him a definite proof that he does not want to offer his virginity to a woman? Even... The Woman?
Was the idea of Warstan bad enough to make Sherlock suicidal on FIVE separate occasions? I counted: the sad, suicidal chips in TEH, the conversation with Sholto through the door, the post-wedding relapse that was NOT for a case, the TAB overdose and the TLD relapse. Dude. Sherlock, son, maybe find a hobby.
Did Mofftiss lose their minds and made not one but TWO 'all in your head' series? Is John dying? Is Sherlock in a coma? Was Eurus real? Is Redbeard a dog? Do I care?
Are Adlock and Smallcroft shippers delusional bc both Holmes brothers are so obviously gay? Is it all right to say that a character's sexual orientation cannot be different from the actor's (but only if the actor is gay)? Does Gatiss have a right to play or create non-gay characters?  Is he morally obliged to make every Sherlock character gay? Does he owe anything to the gay community?
What if having your otp work together and raise a kid together is not enough?
WAS THE LAZARUS REAL? I do agree with finalproblem on this particular subject, 100%.
Is Jim Moriarty alive? Is Mary alive? Is Rosie real?
IS FUCKY a real, useable word?
WAS IT HUDDERS WHO SAID 'SOFTER, SHERLOCK' IN TFP??? That old, stoned witch, I knew I shouldn't trust her.
WHAT IF THERE WILL BE A LOST SPECIAL/LOST GAY BAR SCENE/THE KISS AND WE, THE NON-BELIEVERS/CASUAL ANTIS, WILL DIE OF SHOCK AND CHOKE ON OUR HOMOPHOBIA?
WHAT IF IT WAS TWINS???
Seriously, though. Do I think conspiracy theorists are crazy in real life? No. I think I'm fairly normal despite my strong belief that General Sikorski was murdered by the British. I will NEVER accept that it was an accident. Never. 
Thank you, that was a journey. 
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silverhands-etcetera · 8 years ago
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Sweet Home.
I’m at Sea-Tac international airport. I got here early, but still just missed last call at the Seahawk-themed pre-packaged grill & bar here at the N gates. So I’m doing without liquid refreshment, a good half hour walking laps around the terminal, then I found myself a seat near the gate that leads to Chicago, sat down, & blushed as my MacBook gave its familiar muted tone to the hushed waiting crowd upon firing it up.  My embarrassment was short-lived, however, when the phone of the woman nearest me erupted into Sweet Home Alabama. I thought it was gonna make it around into the verse, as she was having trouble retrieving the device from a zippered pocket of the coat she was sitting on. I’m in that limbo/no-man’s land that is an airport terminal gate. It's not Seattle anymore, not based on the inhabitants. Presumably this island is populated equally by the clueless, affluent, progressive stereotype of Seattleites and the unwoke, working, staid classification of Midwest country folk. I suppose I could put a claim on either side, or neither. I've lived in the city a lot of years now, I've been enriched by the ways in which a mind is not allowed to ferment in its own juices, for the near constant influence of a sight, sound, or concept that lives somewhere outside of your own wheelhouse. Some folks back home might call these elements a corrupting influence, and they may have a point, but sometimes it's your own notions that have the strongest hold over clarity or peace, and a little challenge is what brings you out of your own shadow, -or at the very least, keeps you from being afraid of it. So I sit with this gang of future airplane-dwellers at the gate here at sea-tac. Some people are all too happy to identify themselves as disciples of the major Chicago or Seattle professional sports franchises, while some are more vague. My closest neighbor, on the phone next to me has a style that would be equally at home in Sequim, Washington as it would outside of Freeport, Illinois. These are the people who intrigue me the most, wondering where their trips are starting & ending. Which direction are they going? Are they leaving home or are they finally coming back? How many have just said goodbye to someone who worries about them living in a place so far off & different? -- I spent three days on the very nose of eastern Iowa, where the McDermotts come from, before setting out for my latest itinerary. Flying into Chicago, and doing the three-hour de-urbanization drive straight to the Mississippi River, getting in my obtuse & incredibly impractical old Ford and trying, and failing, to blend in. Try as I might, I just can't pull off the I-actually-have-no-idea-what-I'm-wearing look. So when I sit at the bar at Manny's, I'm exposed as an outsider. -also perhaps because I'm the only one in the place who's excited that they stock Stella in bottles now- but it's ok. Everything changes. Shit- Manny's ain't exactly what it used to be either, you know... Three days & three nights in the stomping ground, pot roast and peculiar middle-American card games with Gramma, an evening of old, moldy LP records at Steve's cabin, and a night on the town with three irreplaceable residents of my soul- which produced a giant to-go box full of leftover Manny's Pizza that changed hands several times until it was abandoned on the kitchen counter upon my leaving to find the airport once again. But the need to blend in, to pass for a local, follows me everywhere except Seattle. I want people to know that I have roots here, perhaps because among the good-ol-boys, roots are the only form of credibility, and I know that. Seattle can't exist in this way because the locals are so greatly outnumbered now, and the city has been plotted with a hundred different pockets of individual cultures to begin with. Spain, not so much. Spain has unique and somewhat odd ways about itself, isolated from the rest of Europe for a period of centuries, and perhaps still. I can sneak through with the locals as long as I keep my mouth shut, but I definitely don't know the secret handshake, and their manner of dealing with me changes as soon as I am exposed. I don't know why this troubles me so. Keeping up appearances is exhausting, opening with your bad grammar & decent pronunciation, your Iberian countenance & American passport gets all the questions out of the way & tells the true story right from the start. In writing about tours & travels, I've always been a part of a larger unit, which you try to keep anonymous as much as you try to include their part in the tales we spin. And in writing, to keep things universal, I've always tended to keep all the other ties that bind as vague as possible. This is my first trip in a very long time as a singular person- a single person, to speak plainly- which is something I had never even considered as a possibility at any previous point in my adult life. But now even my taxes tell me this, so here we are. Table for one, please. Or, I'll take a seat at the bar... --- It was a 787 that took us over the Atlantic -that with the two aisles and the row of three seats down the center. There I was, dead-center of the dead-center. Having a tendency to sleep on one side or another, and unable to lean in either direction, I dozed not a wink. Some, I assume, did get some sleep, but nonetheless, the whole rumpled batch of us shuffled out into Heathrow after seven hours of containment, none looking altogether very bright in the eyes. If you need to change terminals at Heathrow, you best not be in a hurry. I guess I've done it quite few times now, and I had several hours of layover, so it was just "follow the purple signs" & keep on shuffling. The terminal, once you get there is basically a shopping mall, only bigger. At least a hundred ways to spend too much on shit you don't need. Your best bet is to wander the Duty-free store & try to make eye-contact with the young woman at the Glenmorangie booth, and acquire for yourself an offer of a free sample of one of their varieties. With just enough knowledge of Scotch whiskey jargon, one could offer the type of feedback on a particular sample which opens the door for a product pitch on another label which is similar, but also leaning toward those particular things you described. Glenmorangie is currently producing at least five different labels and price points, so this pattern could conceivably be kept in motion until you actually need to excuse yourself politely because you need to run to your gate now, as the flight is boarding, and you're about to miss it. Heathrow took me to Madrid-Barajas, for a six hour layover/reintroduction to the intense character of the Spanish populace. So many things I knew already come back to entertain me. There's a couple little bar-like nooks in the airport, where you can just sit by yourself with a small glass of light-almond-colored beer and take in the show. I'm sure I'll have plenty of observations in the days ahead, but the sheer density of personality crowded into that airport kept me wide awake & riveted. A window seat to Sevilla afforded me a bit of a nap & we were back on the ground in no time. I gathered my bag & found my way out to the taxis, and over the short drive to town, the taxi driver & I took part in a brutal battle of who smells the worst. He rolled down his window as we neared the boardinghouse that is my home for the night. I'm in a second floor room with just a bed & a sink, overlooking an alley, which produced echoed conversation and moped traffic- almost immediately imprinting its own reverb algorhithm into my brain so I am able to imagine just the same what horse's hooves or wagon wheels would sound like in this particular space. I checked in around 8, and considered heading out for some supper, but fell hard asleep instead. All the disembodied voices in the alley crept up to me as I was sleeping, until I was awoken by the sound of a couple singing in French, followed closely by another incongruous sound to my ears in this place -that of the sky opening up to rain on the stone streets, which was then followed quickly by the buzzing of a mosquito who took her invitation through my open windows. So here we are, the mosquito & I. I'm in the bed, eating the muffin that was given to me somewhere over the Atlantic. The Mosquito will have her supper later. It's 4AM and the house is just waking up, or just getting home. I'm ready for another nap.
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tonysleep · 8 years ago
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AN INTERVIEW WITH TONY LEON  (photo by Emilee Palmer)
ashlynn: (laughter) okay we’re doing it, fuck it.
tony: what’s up lil ugly dude?
ashlynn: why do you keep calling me that?
tony: i think it’s really funny. hands down my favorite pet name or whatever you call it.
ashlynn: i almost called our manager that! (laughter) i swear to god one day i’m going to fucking do it. i’m going to make a big scene and everything.
tony: i’ll be cheering from the stands.
ashlynn: okay so, anthony. or should i call you tony?
tony: tony if we’re being proper. oh fuck, i dropped the weed. hold on. okay let’s go, sorry. (plays “american boyfriend” by kevin abstract from his phone) mmmm. i fucking love this. it comes in so pretty.
ashlynn: this guy sounds like the lead singer of some white band from the early 2000′s. it’s chill though.
tony: kevin is underrated, you’ll see soon enough.
ashlynn: okay i’m terrible at this, let’s get back, why do even you make music? what makes you write a song?
tony: honestly as cliche as it sounds, i make music because i barely address actual fears and insecurities because i’m bad at it. like if i have a crush on a girl and she like, i don’t know, double texts me first and shows interest in me or something then i’ll write a song about it. those are my quickest made songs because they’re like bursts of emotion. the same thing goes for if i’m feeling terribly depressed or when one of my nights feels like a movie scene..or if i drink a really nice milkshake. sometimes i feel like nobody’s listening to me or cares though.
ashlynn: why?
tony: i don’t know, the internet man. weird place. it’s like a security blanket for so many niggas, that shit is scary. at one point i had to take a step back and say “okay tony, what do you really want?” i’m sorry i just completely forgot the question (lights a joint) what am i talking about?
ashlynn: why you feel like nobody’s listening.
tony: you hitting this? (passes) oh yeah. well my soundcloud plays are shit. i got some people in the local scene or whatever you call it who fuck with me. and they’ll tell me how good i am and how i’m gonna be a star and shit. i love that it makes me feel good about myself but then i’ll go online and see that my shit is not popping. i’m just a bit impatient is all. that whole online vs IRL shit plays out in my head a lot. it’s so weird.
ashlynn: I love Clueless! It’s so good. how’d it even get that many plays? over like 5k.
tony: it’s a great song that’s why! people like it. i don’t know though it surprised me. i re-did it and deleted the old demo i had posted that had about 1,000 listens. I was thinking no one would even notice. 
ashlynn: it’s definitely a jam. when you said you made music i was like “yeah okay, another soundcloud link.”
tony: you know what i’m saying? follow me on soundcloud peep my new mixtape!(laughter) but aye! thank you.
ashlynn: (endless laughter)
tony: we are way too high to be trying to do this (laughter). fuck this is a fail. let’s try it again but like no fucking weed.
ashlynn: i love weed. weed.
tony: fuck that paper just ball it up let’s freestlye the shit. let me ask you questions.
ashlynn: okay (she giggles)
tony: this shit is so crazy to me like i want to do professional sit down interviews with friends and people who intrigue me. the whole concept is wild.
ashlynn: is that why you randomly asked me to do this? i can barely walk and chew gum at like the same time. and now i’m high. now it’s ten times worse!
tony: ten times ten is one hundred. what the fuck. like what does that mean.
ashlynn: (explosive laughter) what?
tony: like (laughter) what does it mean?
ashlynn: i don’t know what you mean tony (laughter) it’s math like what are you asking me!
tony: whatever man that shit is just weird. oh yeah! aight here we go, i’m asking you stuff right?
ashlynn: huh? (laughter) thank you.
tony: you’re so weird right now. it’s cute. what’s your earliest memory? how far is a light year? paper or plastic?
ashlynn: slow down first. (laughter). like, come on why are you coming at me with them so fast? umm, i remember getting in a white car when i was super little and my maw maw driving, that’s the earliest. i don’t know where we went. it was a car ride somewhere. i miss her.
tony: yeah dude i have lots of early memories but like in cars, car rides and shit, it’s nostalgic. fuck this one is going good. we’re getting somewhere.
ashlynn: how many people have you interviewed?
tony: 2, my nigga sage williams and my first girlfriend christina johnson. both were poorly done though like i have to re do them. me and sage tried to interview many times but we were too high, the first few minutes would be great high nigga conversations, then it would just be silence, laughter and loud ass music for like 30 minutes. we turned it into a podcast, “Geeked with Sage Williams”. i gotta show you (laughter) they’re on my laptop. my favorite one is when we tried to order a pizza high as shit.
ashlynn: i hate being high in public. i can’t order food because i think i look super weird to everyone else. it gives me anxiety.
tony: ordering food high is always hilarious.
ashlynn: what about the interview with that girl, how was it bad?
tony: huh?
ashlynn: you said you interviewed your girlfriend.
tony: she’s not my girlfriend she’s the first girl i ever had real feelings for. like your first love, the one that’s bigger than the little school relationships.
ashlynn: i was like that with this boy named trevor. we still talk sometimes but he’s such a fuck boy. 
tony: am i a fuck boy?
ashlynn: yes! (laughter) no but you’re cool. you act cool without trying. 
tony: tight.
ashlynn: are you ever gonna finish rolling that or what.
tony: we’re talking i had to focus, stupid. (laughter) 
ashlynn: how did her interview go bad you never said.
tony: she was drunk and i was on acid. and it was the first time i had seen her in months and months. or i think like a year actually, yeah it was about a year or so. i was just overwhelmed at the moment. and we were at one of my favorite band’s concerts. like i’m in this big ass arena waiting for the first act and it just so happens that out of all of the available seats she’s like right behind me! i was so happy to see her.
ashlynn: aw!
tony: listen it’s on my phone i’ll play it. it’s so dumb (laughter)
tony: how far is a lightyear?
christina: i burned myself.
tony: i gotta do this, you remember the interview? alright, how far is a lightyear?
christina: i’m not doing this shit!
tony: that’s wrong. what’s the–
christina: i love you!
tony: i love you too what’s 3+5?
christina: 8
tony: daaaammmnnnn
ashlynn: that’s so cute. you sound happy.
tony: yeah i was. the 1975 came to fucking alabama of all places. and she’s there it’s like (simulates an explosion) shoutout to chris, she’s a super dope person. good friend of mine.
ashlynn: hopefully mine will top that
tony: you’re not christina, lil ugly dude
ashlynn: STOP CALLING ME THAT!
tony: i’m high as fuck are you still high?
ashlynn: (groans) yea
tony: i’m gonna save the rest.
ashlynn: okay.
tony: (plays “high and dry” by radiohead)
ashlynn: 
tony:
(song ends)
tony: yo you good? (laughter)
ashlynn: yeah i was just listening, is it still recording?
tony: yup.
ashlynn: can we go? i’m sleepy.
tony: are you ending the interview this fast? (laughter) 
ashlynn: i’m stoned anthony i can’t (laughter) i’m just staring at that tree. i can’t think of anything to ask!
tony: it’s cool (laughter) i’m gonna stop it. any last words?
ashlynn: :)
END.
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ecotone99 · 5 years ago
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[HM] [NSFW] How To Stay Single By Being Yourself
I listened to her pack into the MUNI train, and before I lost her in a tunnel, I said, “Sayonara, sardine.”
What a thing to say to someone with whom you’ve never actually occupied the same space, at least to my knowledge. The whole pace of my life seems to be this way nowadays. A skip or a glitch or a miss, or a drunk wrong turn into the wrong drunk person to kiss. Then I slip into another relationship, another year lost monogamous with the wrong person, until I’m my old single self again, masturbating and playing video games for virtual and spermal accomplishments. Until it’s just sad and no longer nostalgic, and I give it up again and move on to taking placebo capsules, more commonly known as vitamins, trying to better myself, eat healthy; when I know in my heart, whether or not it’s connected to a clogged left anterior descending artery, I’ll die just the same. The antithesis of delusions of grandeur, whatever that is. Plus those aren’t things I should indulge in or contemplate anyway, and by now I should have been more than this, but at least it’s good I don’t have kids or a second mortgage, but then comparatively to happier lives than mine, maybe it isn’t.
Responsibilities warped, and I’m honestly just complacent. Had one insightful shroom trip three years ago, camping at the base of Mt. Baldy, ending in three friends coming down from the trip repeating the word ‘comfort’ in harmony, which really stuck with me, and now making enough money so I can afford things that might impress a woman so she’ll sleep with me - because I lack a societally accepted masculine personality, and the accompanying physique - doesn’t seem all that important. Unless she’s gorgeous, thinks I’m funny, holds my doors open for me, and makes sure I cum before her. Because she’s an all giving goddess who’s ultra into reversing the roles. Now I’m the one wearing the bra and being neglectful, and she’s the one that’s fearful I’ll leave her if she’s not careful; if she can’t become my idea of the perfect woman, which could only mean that she’s not really special, not to me or anyone. My 'I’ve truly lost touch with reality' true love. Imagine that. Even when I’m not really with anybody I can’t take a breath for myself. Romantically imaginative, removed but attached. Really I’m just a Little Bitch, but I capitalize the L and the B in that shit. I own my label. It’s my religion, my race, my gender, my age, and my sexual orientation, fluidly. It’s my username on Fetlife, but the original was taken, so I’m LittleBitchFoRealTho. Even though the trained eye would see that’s too many characters. And I don’t know why I have the urge to say this, but, stay woke.
Then I snapped out of it, took a minute to think of all the years I wasted lasting seconds during sex, for months at a time, counting down the femtoseconds until the relationship ends in high entropy. Either overpraised or overfed. Or not needed at all. Just a one night stand, just a bed, just a friend, not even with benefits, just a dude to bring home so she doesn’t have to yet accept and admit to her parents that she’s a lesbian.
Get older, continue to get high, watch The Neverending Story for the thousandth time, and go to bed early. Learning to be lonely. Perpetually a dude currently writing this, sitting in a room, in an apartment with rent that’s ridiculous, if you happen to measure and calculate the cramped square footage, and compare it to how much you’re paying for it. Surrounded by objects that are purely conditional, and those conditions seem to occur few and far between. So everything I bought off Amazon Prime is all essentially useless, but can be delivered in two days, so that it can more quickly begin to lose the factor of novelty, before becoming still life garbage you seemingly involuntarily keep, imbued with a memory of a compelling spell of clicking, which megamorphed into sentimental value, and you only have those hardcovers on your bookshelf to cast the illusion that you’re well-rounded.
In actuality, I’m only rewriting this over and over again, trying to make this ludicrous literature perfect, while experiencing acute mood shifts. Sometimes my phone dies and I lose the latest revision, gone and lost in contextual oblivion. Metaphysically tired in my lazy mind’s lazy eye, from the eternal uphill-pushing of enormous proverbial boulders. A hugely hubristic, bush league, satirical Sisyphus with a creator complex, writing this self-stated, social paradigm shifting content, while in tangible social settings I’m mostly pocketing my psychic two cents. Then keeping my hands in my pockets so my palms sweat, standing far away from her and her friends after she ran over to them, next to a giant metallic cone with a screen in it at the California Academy of Sciences, reading the ticket that admits us into the Planetarium. Skip to the next awkward moment, I finally walk over, because she looked at me like I’m an idiot, we stand in a rhombus and start talking. One friend says, “Hey, nice to meet you”. Then a dainty, moist squeeze of the hands, then release, but no relief, more anxiety, but I manage to speak, “It’s nice to meet you too, Peaches.” I swear that was her name.
I’m saving up to win the spiritual lottery, or just waiting: to die, to fall asleep, perchance to wet-dream. While in my periphery I’m watching Clueless and wishing someone would text me back. As if. Because I sent you this, so I’ll probably never hear from you again, person reading this. A person I can only describe as: a secluded echo, an eclipsed moon, December blue. Soft eyes, no vacancy. Wild ride. You.
Anyway, if you’re still with me, what I’ve been trying to say, lately things seem to go a certain way for me. It’s not bad or good, it’s just causing me to think a little more introspectively. Any remorse for my interactions that may boil up is immediately self-medicated with cannabis that is meant to take the place of dopamine, when in reality I haven’t accomplished a single thing. I’m just sitting here making up silly stories, pretending I’d be content if this was it, nothing more than this. Monotony, mixed with heaven sent absurdity that turns into comedy, or social awkwardness at my day job that on the first and fifteenth of the month turns into money. Which goes to rent and other pointless expenses. If I want to attempt to have sex, gotta pay for dates, probably somewhere expensive, to distract her from fact that one of my ears is lower and points in a different direction.
Then when I’m on these dates, I have to be witty, charming, funny; because I personally believe that’s all I have going for me, and my psychiatrist agrees. I have to be somewhat up kept, overall hygienic, clean my apartment, just in case... you know...I die, or she wants to comes over. Buy a new toothbrush, new socks, deodorant, maybe a tie, get a goofy one while you’re shopping for an outfit at Goodwill, one that isn’t too large or too goofy looking, so as not to appear homeless. Not too drunk or too stoned to not keep up the walls, keep on the mask, perpetuate the facade, go on and on about what you do, where you’re from, but what’s really going on is you’re dancing around the fact that awkwardness is preferable to loneliness, but neither of you are out rightly addressing it, just discussing hobbies you aren’t really all that active in, and all you really want is to put on your favorite song, which is Love is a Battlefield, really loud, and be physically close to another person, preferably naked.
But flaws and awkwardness always win; until you consider and accept that death is the ultimate end, after getting real deep about it during a stoned conversation while listening to The Mars Volta with your old high school friends. Start to contemplate the concept of non-existence, then live your life according to that premise; which I don’t, but then do, too, paradoxically.
A view loosely based on the Tegmark take on quantum immortality, transmuted with my own half-baked multiverse theory recipe, tossed into the ethereal 8-Qt Crock-Pot, on low for 8 hours, alchemically cooking up the basic tenets of my life’s philosophies, stirring occasionally. It’s basically the idea that you can’t actually perceive yourself dying, but everyone else around you experiences your death in that universe’s reality. So for them you’re dead, then either cremated, ashes scattered in the hot tub at your grandparents old house in Walnut while the new occupants are in it. Or buried next to your brother, whose epitaph reads, “Who wants to match on a blunt and smoke out Jesus and Dezi Arnaz when we get to heaven, and why is it getting so hot all of a sudden?”, because my brother’s pretty funny when I write his made up epitaph for him. Or better than both disintegration or side-by-side a sibling in a graveyard; your will states your wishes to be taxidermied, morbidly displayed out in the most visible part of the back lawn, to been seen from a plethora of windows, forever staged reading Infinite Jest, which you never actually finished when you did exist there; until your family moves on emotionally and stores you in the basement next to your Pokémon card collection that never evolved into anything worth anything, much like a lvl 100 Luvdisc.
Where was I? Oh yeah. More bad dates with minutely modified bad outcomes, that would not have come to pass if you hadn’t eaten as many croissants as you did in your past life. Your colon couldn’t love handle it. Now new you figured out ways to continue perpetuating lies, to yourself and others, until again you’re caught in one of them by someone that you spoke spurious, rehearsed lines to, and then somehow learned to love. Another burnt bridge, move on to next place, the next job, the next “one”. Why not? Repeat the pattern. It seems you’ll always fill your life up with made up obstacles and the subsequent distractions, because it’s easier to hide behind another person’s life and pretend you don’t have one. Now their problems are yours, but they’re not as smart as you to handle them, says you. So you express another misplaced emotional reaction, then the inevitable detachment. In your mind it’s the proverbial 'them' all talking about you behind your back, even though they haven’t really thought about you since; but you hear it all in your head, overwhelmingly, a profound paranoid pounding, a feedback loop of an empty orchestra laughing; about all the stuff she knows about you, and told them, and they believe it to be it true, about you doing silly stuff with your penis that you thought would never leave the room.
“You can’t think your way out of a prison that is made of thought.”
- Krishna Das
Then you remember, sometimes if you say the name given to a person later in life because of a spiritual rite, read directly after the last word of a sentence from a quote associated with them, it produces a near rhyme. Sometimes things are just meant to be, two people are destined to meet, destined to be best friends who are silly on purpose, yes-and everyone, and massage each other’s feet. Running on unconditional love, and when we’re drunk it’s always fun and she doesn't end up cheating. If only.
No but really, I hope this was fun to read. Just some real, taboo, and personal themes that hopefully lead to giggles and genuine feelings, simultaneously. Because that’s really what I’m all about, inherently, though sometimes disrespectfully, but I promise it’s not done intentionally. I’m simply digging deeply into the collective unconscious, and sharing all the treasures that I pull out. Because I always pull out, can’t stand a condom: latex, sheepskin, my ego; doesn’t matter. I can’t help but rawly share it and impregnate you with honesty.
A component of my soul, a moment, a stream of consciousness built upon the general thought of a person I could have been and may become. An influence I feel could be a friend - because I swear on the grave of a man named Lasso who lives on the astral plane, who doesn’t know how to dance, but if you know how to ask, will grant you the ability to always know the exact location of the nearest bathroom - that I’m only trying to gain a little understanding so I can be compatible with another person. It’s that simple. I’m the grey hat traversing the gray areas. The one who doesn’t know the proper rules on when to use which spelling of gray, so he always puts both variations of grey in a sentence. So a train of thought came after a disconnection on a train elsewhere, which caused me to think, write and edit this every night until three in the morning for an ever increasing amount of weeks, repeating a pattern so as not to repeat, trying to see if there’s something to glean that’ll lead me to love in this reality. All because I listened to her pack into the MUNI train, and before I lost her in a tunnel, I said, “Sayonara, sardine.”
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