#i say as if he will read this or know this post even exists

[agirlinthegalaxy]

Hi! Fellow person with an English degree, along with working for an academic company that has a short college textbook about AI! One of the things that was discussed was hallucinations, which is incorrect information that AI presents as fact. Because the thing is, AI isn't capable of critical thought on its own. It takes in all of this information from the internet, but, as well all know, the Internet isn't inherently a trustworthy source of information and AI isn't capable of actually verifying this information.

One of the ways that we demonstrated this in our textbook is by inputting "Who won the 2022 presidential election?" This was using a previous ChatGPT model, but it actually would answer the question genuinely as if there had been a 2022 presidential election. Another way that I found personally is that I would begin discussing television shows and push it, and without fail, it always began making a lot of errors about obvious plot points and would be unable to keep it straight. Here's an input where I ask for an explanation of the finale of the Charmed (1998) series. (Spoilers for that ahead, but also the show ended nearly twenty years ago, so.)

While a lot of people probably don't know a lot about the show, here's the most relevant part: the entire Ultimate Power section is a complete fabrication because, while they exist, they're distinct characters with a completely different background. (And before anyone says anything, the point isn't about how recognizable the show is, it's about the AI literally makes up false information and presents it as truth when it's very easily disproved.)

Another way of illustrating AI's hallucinations is asking an either/or question, presuming that an event happens. Now, in full transparency, I have not read Dracula since 2021/2022, but I'm about eighty percent sure that this is an example of a hallucination. If not, my apologies, but I'm sure you can find a hallucination if you input it enough similar statements.

Beyond clearly just knowing what is accurate or not, AI also, like the previous OP said, doesn't know what is important. In many classes, when you're discussing some kind of novel, small details will of vital importance whether it about character, plot, or theme of the book. Demonstrated by one of my professors who asked us about the symbolism of the horse that Thomas Sutpen rode into town in the beginning of Absalom, Absalom only to very loudly proclaim that it was between his legs as a phallic symbol, which honestly was probably correct with the author William Faulkner being who he is. Side note, but he was a weird man, and I still don't like his works. If I was a student in that class today, here are the two different shortcuts I could have gotten.

(ChatGPT)

(SparkNotes)

Between the two, even disregarding that SparkNotes' summary is four paragraphs to ChatGPT's three (since the girl in the og Twitter post used three), SparkNotes just provides so much more information and detail. I'd argue that ChatGPT doesn't even summarize it efficiently anyways. So if you're just trying to cheat for class, ChatGPT still isn't a good option.

But I think the worst thing is that the people in the original Twitter convo aren't even reading for class. They're (presumably) reading for enjoyment, which makes it so much more bizarre to me. Because the thing is, and this is a rare one for me to say, you don't... have to read if you don't enjoy it? Once you've left school, very few places (unless you intentionally opt into it or have a very specific job) will make you read novels in your free time. Furthermore, I really can't fathom problems that ChatGPT solves that, say, an audiobook can't? Discussing these two specific instances individually:

If you're wanting to learn more about what Aristotle said in more readable English, baby, he's Aristotle. I can almost guarantee you that there is some kind of book out there, or even something online if you'd like to use the Internet, explaining his philosophy in easier to understand terms. Also with philosophy, I think that "main gist" can be a bit of a trick in of itself because it's designed to make you think critically about these ideas. Sometimes, the "main gist" is even the opposite of what they may seemingly be arguing because they're mocking it.

As for reading a book recommendation by a friend. ... girlie pop, you literally could just not read the book. I've gotten plenty of book recommendations that I've never read and my friends are not insulted at it. If it's a bid for connection, I'd argue that this is more insulting than simply not reading it because if you don't want to invest the time into it, that's fine but this weird shortcut way as if it's beneath your time is... oof. But especially if you want to discuss it, because AI will not include every beat and a lot of a novel is in the way it's written, the pacing or tension, etc. Things that an AI summary can't define out for you to have an actual meaningful conversation. That's something I do when I see a movie that looks halfway interesting but don't care enough to actually sit down and watch it. And even then, I'd never go back to that friend and act like I actually consumed that media; I'd probably just say that it sounds good because I still have not actually truthfully engaged with it!

This is a very long post, but I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about AI, especially in classes, literature, and media in general. Most of them are very negative, but I mean, please don't hand over your critical thinking of what you're consuming to artificial intelligence. Its intelligence is artificial; yours is not.

what is HAPPENING

[4chensungs]

don’t kiss and tell

brothers best friend!jisung x fem. reader

after the incident of your brother finding out you hooked up with one of his friends, you promised to yourself to never look out for him anymore. but who says he’ll give up on you that easily?

wc. 2.8k

warnings. smut (mdni), jisung is down bad, body worship like crazy in here, tit sucking, fingering, ass slapping, unprotected sex

part 1 for context here <3

IT HAS BEEN one whole month since you last talked to jisung. one month since you saw him probably for the last time in a hot minute.

the last few weeks have been extremely unusual; you keep questioning yourself how was he doing, if he's even ever going to appear at your house again to hang out with you brother, like he always did. he's probably not.

and fuck jaemin, fuck him for screwing your bond with him. it's useless, pure jealousy and he's so stupid!, stupid for being this mad with one if his best friends of years, simply because he thinks you're still a child.

on the other hand, jisung is being not so subtle in the way he still wants you. he keeps liking the pics you post on your instagram stories, sometimes even replying to them. and it's the sad fact you're not giving him a single reply.

his mind wanders to the thought of you being already completely over him, wanting to distance yourself fully right now, thanks to your brother.

but your heart knows that's not what you want, and it keeps giving you a warning that the next time that you see him, these feelings will come back stronger than ever.

you miss him. so bad, thinking about him makes you sick.

you're laying in bed, scrolling quietly through your phone when the damn notification appears. why does he keep trying? you sigh out loud.

the__and.y liked your stories.

you ran your hands through your hair, turning off your phone to stare at the ceiling to collect your breath. you can't, your brother is still furious with both of you.

jisung ♡: why do u keep ignoring me in every existing social media

is he really going to do this? at this late at night?

jisung ♡: i miss you

you kept reading his messages and not replying. you didn't contact him for a month.

maybe, just maybe, things may have gotten lighter with jaemin. perhaps he's not really remembering this whole thing, yeah?

you: i'm sorry jisung

you: idk if this is right i really don't know

you: im confused

you turn off your phone again while waiting for his reply. let's give it a try.

jisung ♡: why wouldn't it be right

jisung ♡: jaemin can't control your life, you can do whatever you want

hm.

you: i felt bad that day and he's still so mad with you

you: idc if he's mad with me, he's my brother at the end of the day

you: i worry about you and how hes fucked up your friendship

jisung ♡: baby you know what's fucked up

jisung ♡: you trying to convince yourself that you don't want this because of him

jisung ♡: say to my face that you don't want it

you want this so fucking bad. to be in his arms again, and the thrill of being with him behind closed doors. god, that's all you want in every way.

you: ji

you: i want to see you

jisung ♡: that's right

jisung ♡: i've waited for this princess

jisung ♡: waited so long

you: i need you

you: i don't care anymore

you really don't give a fuck - your brother can hold his protectiveness instinct for himself, he actually can. you can't control what your heart aims for.

and it screams for park jisung.

"you can't ignore him forever, you know that?"

"who says I'm ignoring him? I texted him yesterday saying he should come this weekend." jaemin huffed, acting oblivious to the fact that the only reason why he invited jisung over was because of the boys' annual end of year party.

chenle deadpans at him with his stare, letting out a chuckle, "if you didn't invite him I would've done it myself." he paused, turning his head to look at the man, "that would be bullshit."

bullshit. jaemin swore he almost threw chenle out of the car in the harshest way possible - clicking his tongue in pure annoyance, "yeah, it was just fine when he fucked my sister behind my back."

"i'm pretty sure they did not fuck."

if you didn't then why were you both half naked. in his car. at your backyard?

"i'm telling you, I saw it. she was literally on top of him and she was fucking moaning his name, chenle. that's fucking wrong." your brother spat while still not looking at his friend - eyes focused on the road.

chenle keeps going, "cut this off, jaem. you can't see her as a baby anymore. let her live."

jisung is indeed coming to your house again - sooner than you thought. but it did take some days for you to find out, tho. you brother wasn't the one who told you.

in the same day, the last messages jisung sent you before you went to sleep.

jisung ♡: dress up prettily for me tomorrow

jisung ♡: will you?

you: what??

you: you're coming???

jisung ♡: jaemin told me to go and yeah i didn't expect it as well

jisung ♡: dreaming of you again

jisung ♡: kissing your sweet lips holding you so close to me

jisung ♡: it'll be all mine princess

you: go to sleep ji

you: silly

jisung ♡: i'll show you what's silly tomorrow

—

the sound of the boys laughing and loud pitching talking in the living room did quite mess with your head, anticipating the moment when he comes. it's crazy how you got so dolled up for him only, he's the reason why you're even going out of your room this night.

if it wasn't for jisung, you'd probably just greet the guys and come back to your own quiet place, drowning in your thoughts, alone. just like you always used to do before he appeared in your life.

a knock was heard on your door just right after you finished your makeup. unexpectedly, you meet a very tipsy jaemin.

"what the fuck is this outfit?" he spats, crossing his arms in front of his chest - his body unbalanced. for a split second, you closed your eyes and thanked all the existing Gods under your breath. he's drunk.

you smiled, "felt pretty today. you smell like beer, don't talk to me."

"hey, hey, hey." he grabbed your arm before you could close the door and kick him out, "come say hello to my friends. don't be rude."

you fixed your hair and outfit and went to the living room, being find with chenle, jeno and donghyuck's figures sat around the big table, nestled with all the different kinds of drinks and alcohol.

your breath hitched when jisung was nowhere to be found.

after greeting the guys, you decided to wait in your room - not sure on how, or when will jisung get there and you'll finally get to release all of your wants. show him how much you miss him and vice versa.

not much time had passed before another knock was heard on your door. you were sprawled on bed, dim lighting decorating the ambient.

"come in."

you said that because you thought it was your brother. jisung carefully opened the door, eyes peeking first to check on you.

that scene truly felt like a movie. you slowly got up, a smile starting to pop up in your lips as you walked to him.

your voice trembling, "hi, ji."

you opened the door fully for him to enter your space, he wasted no time to step in and pull you into a hug.

a mess was happening in your head, so ridiculously dizzy from him - the masculine smell of his cologne filling your nostrils, his hands holding your body flush to him while yours gripped his black t shirt, so simple and casual but yet made him look so attractive.

or maybe that’s just because you miss him a lot.

jisung leaned away from your embrace, gently taking your hair out of your face while holding eye contact - hands flew to your hips.

"you look gorgeous. more than ever."

your arms secured their hold around his neck, feeling your cheeks burning red from his words, "just for you." you announced.

he nodded, "all for me."

you both smiled like two idiots in love as he leaned down to kiss you, mouths melting so sweet at first - tongues brushing here and there, hums being heard throughout the kiss, "so pretty in this dress." he mumbles in between.

his back hits the door as he closes it, left hand leaving your hips for a mere second just to lock it.  making absolute sure that no one will be able to interrupt.

jisung grabs a hold of your thighs to help you walk further into your room, so familiar to him.

all the times you've sneaked out, when jisung slept by and left jaemin's room in the middle of the night when he was in a deep sleep. all behind his back with so much carefulness.

when he lays you down he's quick to trail his wet kisses down to your neck, firm hands caressing your whole body, going up and down in motions.

you arch into him, playing with his black hair strands as his face rests on your chest, meanwhile his lips keeps smooching your hot skin.

you sigh in contentment, knees pressing together - trying to give him a sign that you're needy, so painfully needy for him.

"jisung i want- mhhm" your words get cut off by your own whine when his hand grabs the top of your dress to pull it down, hanging it just below your bra.

"don't want to take your dress off.. youre looking too beautiful like this." his deep voice quietly said.

you smile at his sweet comment, holding back all your whines combined with the feeling of his fingers messing with the lace of your white bra, throwing your head back with no shame when he pulls the fabric down to expose your breasts, still not taking it off your body.

"so pretty, princess. i could admire you all day."

cool air is fast to hit but it's soon replaced by jisung's hot mouth, circling your breast with his tongue, hand massaging the other while his mouth does wonders on your soft flesh.

when he reaches for your nipple you whine even louder, his saliva pooling and soaking your whole breast when he sucks it into his warm hot mouth, humming nonstop.

"you're crazy ji-jisung."

"should i stop?" he teases, leaning his mouth away from your nipple and replacing it with his finger, rubbing it.

"no for fucks sake.. but I'm trying so hard to keep quiet." your voice trembled slightly.

jisung looks at you then laughs, “they’re so wasted right now, no one’s conscious in that room, love.”

you pout at him, he softly traces your bottom lip with his thumb before kissing you again, “I promise you, it’s okay. but I need you to tell me it’s okay with you.”

his soft and caring voice did turn you on even more, it shouldn’t, but it made you wetter. eyes holding so much love and appreciation looking at yours - “I want this. I want you, ji.”

jisung smiles one more time, giving you a nod and resumed his work, mumbling a deep “fuck” under his breath when he tested the waters, hand went under your dress to feel your core.

he pulled the ends of your dress up to your stomach, your thighs ridiculously pressed together. you should be ashamed of how wet you were, but you’re not, not even a single bit.

he gives your thighs a caress, “let me spread them, hm?”

your breath hitches when he brings your knees to your chest, spreading you all open and full for him. jisung mentally coos at the scene in front of him.

just like your bra, white lace panties with a wet dark patch decorated in the middle, like a gift for him. it drove him crazy.

“did you miss me that much, princess?” you can only moan as response when he touches the wet patch with his finger before pulling the lace to the side, holding it in place with one finger, while his middle finger travels up and down your cunt.

wet, so fucking wet, “fuck. love, i might cum just by looking at this.” he cursed and cursed again, eyes wide open and looking straight at your puffy displayed cunt, so wet just for him. he knew that and so did you.

“oh fuck baby i can’t-“ jisung’s fingers spread you open to admire you better - in love, genuinely in love with how your pretty pussy shines for him, glistening and begging to suck him in.

he leans down fast enough to give your clit a quick kiss, “can’t stop thinking about how beautiful she is.” still caressing your core.

you moan his name desperately at his nasty but sweet comment, tons of whines and “jisung” ‘s leaving your mouth.

“ji please. want your fingers.” you manage to say.

“of course, gotta prep my beautiful girl.” he smiles, an expert finger circling your clit before diving down into your entrance. covered with slick, your cunt invites him just as soon.

experienced fingers pumping in and out continuously, you whine with your eyes closed at the sound of wetness.

jisung’s in complete awe, stoping his staring at your hole to kiss your face, first at the corner of your mouth, then at your lips, shutting your whines off.

“you’re perfect.” he leans away to say.

nothing’s more perfect in this world than the sensation of his long and thick fingers inside you, scissoring you and reaching the deepest and most sensitive spots ever. you’ll say that to him later.

you try to smile but you soon harshly bite your lip when he curled his two fingers inside, you yelped, “jisung! oh my god-“

he kisses you again, and again, until he’s satisfied and thinks you’re ready to take him. jisung’s fingers leave you empty, and you let out a cry - his eyes make their way to between your legs to see how you’re pulsating.

“never seen my princess this wet..” deep cocky voice says.

you reach out to take off your dress, “i’ve missed you.”

when your dress was discarded to the floor, he was quick to unbutton his jeans as they went to the same destination of your clothes.

you could see his erection through his boxers, and as much as you want to such him off right now, you’re needing him inside. now.

your panties were about to be discarded before jisung grabbed your hand and shook his head, “want them on, baby. s’ pretty. keep the bra too.”

knowing how he likes it with you, you turned around and pinned your front to the bed, arching your back and your ass in the air.

“fuck, just like that.” he pumps his cock at first, cooing you while you wait for him.

jisung’s hands flew to your back to arch it even more, then to hold your hips. he rubs the head of his dick on your entrance, how your pussy almost sucks him in just from the rubbing.

when he enters you, you let out a little too loud moan. hands clutching the sheets and tears filling your eyes.

he’s completely focused on how you keep clenching around him - the amusing view of your cunt sucking him all the way in, then out again.

your hips were pressed to his shaft, feeling him so fucking deep into your womb.

jisung coos again, “you don’t know how I’ve been dying for this.” he slaps your ass.

“jisung! jisung fuck, jisung.” you whine like a baby, lost in the pleasure. ass stinging from his big hand slap and cunt begging to be filled until you get sore.

“my love.” another slap, “fucking made just for me.”

his cock is so big and it leaves you like a babbling mess, so big that it almost hurts from how good it is, hits you in all places.

you both were getting closer, his thrusts started to get sloppier and messier, slower as he pulled away to release at your back.

your own release dripped down your pussy and thighs, while his hot cum painted your back down to your ass cheeks. what a scene.

“want them all to see this mess.. jaemin needs to see how you’re good to me.“ he admires the sight of your cunt clenching and unclenching around absolutely nothing but the air, “can’t believe you’re mine and no one can ever change that.”

you tiredly laid back on your back again, trying to fix your hair. jisung’s sweaty body joined you after tossing the dirty sheets aside, he breathes heavy, but still with that cute smile on his lips.

“do you think they heard something?.” you look up at him, voice low.

jisung thinks for a second, furrowing his brows, “i honestly don’t think so, baby. but you need to change these sheets..”

“of course i will, ji.” you laughed fondly. there’s still some questions hanging in the air, with what face will he come back to the boys?

“and if they ask you where were you this whole time and what were you doing…?”

“then i’ll just say that i was fucking the prettiest girl in the family and i don’t regret it.”

—

© 4chensungs

[queer-benoit-blanc]

Conclave things that have stuck with me most after several watches and reading the book for comparison (I've mentioned some of this in other posts):

When Bellini berates Lawrence about his "precious doubts", he glances around first to make sure no one is going to hear. He's pissed off, but he knows the danger of rumour, and he doesn't want to get Lawrence hurt. It's such a tender little moment

Throughout the film, we get whispering and muttering, but it's never very clear what's being said. Until the end, when we can hear them all saying "Innocentius". After a discordant time of rumour and speculation, the Curia has finally united around Benitez

Lawrence's skullcap: he puts it on at the start when he needs to be professional, and tears it off after his improvised homily and the first time he sends Ray to do some investigating, as though he feels he is not worthy of his title. He's not wearing it at all when he sneaks into the Pope's room. But when he distributes the reports, it's back. He knows this is his duty

The book has a big focus on the role of the media, and we do get some mentions of that in the film (helicopters, camera flashes, etc) but it's incredibly stripped back. The film even changes some scenes to emphasise the role of rumour in such an insular place. For instance, the theatre room does not exist in the book, but in the film it provides space for Bellini's group to plot alone

The shroud over the dead Pope's face, and the ribbon and around the door, flimsy tradition contrasted with the heavy mundanity of the paramedics removing the body

The candles all around the Pope's photo, which are the same as the candle in Bellinis' room

Ray letting Lawrence use his glasses to read, which has obviously happened before. I love the solid ground that Ray provides Lawrence

In the book, Tedesco is terrible at Latin despite, as in the film, demanding it be brought back. The film provides a visual standing for this with the vape. He doesn't actually want tradition, he's just using it as a veil for his bigotry

Bellini saying the Pope was "always 8 moves ahead", setting up all the Pope's machinations that appear later

Lawrence being the first person to notice when Agnes and Benitez are trying to speak to the cardinals

The nuns always working in the background. Their work is shown over and over but the film demands effort from the audience to notice, lest they become "invisible"

[mscherub]

Hello! This was, and is originally posted on my Ao3, but I’m gonna bring it over here for other ppl to read, cause why not?

Courting with Floyd (Floyd Leech x Reader)

Gender neutral reader, referred to as perfect and or Y/N, I honestly forgot :/ LOL

(Possible?) Warnings:

swearing(I have a sailors mouth and it makes its way into my writing)

Mention of a tooth

Uneducated reader on merfolk courting rituals

Probs grammatical errors and or spelling, or both, knowing me—

Word count: approximately 2.4K

How long has it been since Floyd has been acting weird? Well, I mean he always was weird to begin with, but now? Yea, totally different! He seemed more calm around you which—shockingly—is not like him. Was he ok? Where’d the sinister maniacal eel boy go? Figuring Jade would know better about his own brother, you went to him first just to ask, but, as expected, Jade was no help, simply smirking at you and basically telling you “tough luck.” I mean, Floyd, Floyd, was starting to be nice to you. Always finding a reason to be with you, always finding a reason to annoy hang out with you. Granted he did that before, but not as much. You weren’t thattt interesting. You were basic looking at best in his opinion(rude…), you caused a lot of trouble(ok, that’s fun…), and you did make everything twice as exciting when around so…ehhhh, maybe you were more interesting than he gave you credit for. But now? He’s going all out just to be closer it seems, and it’s unnerving.

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

“Shrimpyyyyyyyyyyyyyy…ne ne, heyyyyyyy. Lookie lookie! Loooook!!! Shrimpy?” Floyd pouted and poked your cheek.

You were in the library, minding your business studying. Grim was off with Ace and Deuce so you got a moment alone, even just for a few minutes, but of course it was ruined already…

“Huh? I’m trying to study here…” you reply. Honestly why did trouble always find you? And more importantly why did the cause of it get blamed on you and—

“Booooringgg…hey hey, shrimpy~” he flashes you that signature toothy grin, pulling you out of your inner monologue. “I have something more fun in mind, yea? Come with me~” he doesn’t give you any time to even respond and yanks you up from your seat. You begrudgingly follow along behind him, trying to pull your arm away from his grip, but to no luck. The fuck did this guy eat to be so damn strong?

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

After going about campus for who knows how long, precious study time replaced by scaring and robbing people on Azul’s special blacklist…Floyd drags you under a tree in the botanical gardens. He hums a tune softly as he kicks at rocks in the grass…he’s out of toys to play with now and I guess you’re the only option, right?

“Heyyyyyy, Shrimpy! Tell me a story from your world.” you’re pulled from your thoughts again and look over at him as he leans against the tree and slumps down to the ground. He looks up at you expectantly. You sigh and sit down next to him, backs against the trees.

“What do you wanna hear?” You hum as your eyes find their way to a group of butterflies fluttering around a small patch of flowers.

“Something cool. Hmmmm…oh! How ‘bout something about the oceans in your world? You have em, yea?” He sighs, gently bumping the back of his head against the tree

“Yea, my world has oceans, but I dunno. We have like maybe 5% explored? A lot of fish I guess…not much different from yours in a sense besides that merfolk don’t exist.” you murmur. What else was there really to say? You exactly weren’t a marine biologist before ending up here.

Floyd goes quiet and lets out a scoff of disbelief, his eyes widening

“Huh…your world sounds boring shrimpy…no other eel merfolk then?” He waits for your reply. Why did he care about that

“Uh…no. Not any merfolk at all…and I guess it is kinda boring. But hey, it’s home.” you retort. Floyd simply grins and moves his face closer to yours. You glare at him confused. You could be studying right now, you could be reading up on whatever topic Trein assigned, but no! You were bullshitting around with probably one of the top most deadliest students in the entire school, and that’s without the use of magic. But Floyd doesn’t do anything sinister, instead he pulls something from his blazer pocket and drops it in your lap…what the—a pearl?

“Uh—“

“Pretty, huh? Just like your eyes, or whatever. Anyways…I’m bored, and ‘Zul’s probably got some spiel for me when I get back…gotta beat him to the lounge.” Floyd hoists himself up and looks down at you, waving his hand. “Later, shrimpy-Chan~” he grins again. His eyes have a weird glint to them today.

He whistles as he walks off, leaving you alone to ponder, again…ok…what the fuck just happened?

Things didn’t exactly add up. Was he trying to trick you…did he just give you a gift, for free!? Uh, hello? Not Floyd like, not Octivanelle student like at all! Something was fishy, and no pun intended, but what the actual fuck? Ok, thinking logically, maybe you did something that benefited him and he payed you back for it? But what did you do? And also that’s not like Floyd, either? You’re completely and utterly stumped.

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

Floyd’s behavior only got weirder over the days, and he even uncharacteristically started to give more gifts to you…one being the tooth of who knows who’s. You’ve asked him about it and it’s the same reply each time:

“Just felt like it. Bye now!” —or something like that…gave you something pretty, which was always usually shiny, and then left, leaving you to look at the gift(if you even wanna consider a tooth that then sure) confused.

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

One evening you’re sitting in Ramshackle dorm, doom scrolling on MagiCam, Grim curled up and passed out beside you on the couch…

Ding!

“The hell?”

A message from Azul pops up and you instinctively click on it.

Azul: “for the love of the seven, please say yes to Floyd already. It’s driving me and my business into turmoil…”

Huh…

Ok, what the hell did he mean by “say yes to Floyd?” What am I saying yes to?

You: “…uh…what?”

Azul: “…”

Azul: “come to the lounge.”

And that’s it. Azul ends the conversation. Weird.

You hoist yourself up and you pat grim on the head to wake him up.

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

When you and Grim get to the lounge, it’s empty, besides for the disaster playing out…Floyd slumped directly on the floor in the middle of the lounge in his eel form, his tail flicking angrily and smacking against the floor, a pout plastered onto his face. Apparently Azul caught him trying to sneak out again to go to the sea for “presents,” and Azul got fed up. Floyd grumbles and glares over at the door, his eyes soften just a bit when he sees it’s you, but he’s in one of his moods.

“Shrimpy…come’ere…” he mutters. “Tell ‘Zul how dickish he’s being by not letting me go get you another trinket from the sea.”

“Floyd, you’ve been skipping out on working hours—“

Jade chimes in, “To be fair, when doesn’t he?”

Floyd keeps bickering with Azul, leaving you and Grim to just witness the scene unfold before you.

“Henchhuman, we could run right about…now!” Grim murmurs.

“No…” you sigh as you grab his tail before he books it. You could totally take advantage of this, maybe get Azul to make a fair deal with you if you solve whatever is wrong with Floyd…

Jade walks up next to you silently and smiles as he watches.

“You know…my brother has taken quite a liking to you I fear…he would be fairly upset if you were to keep ignoring his advances.” He hums. “Though it is enjoyable to watch him try so hard.”

“What? Jade, no offense but what the hell do you mean?” You side eye him, but Azul calls Jade over to drag Floyd to the pool until he can get him a potion to change him back…Azul is stressed and it’s evident as he takes off his glasses to rub his face. But soon his exasperated expression is replaced by a glare as he makes eye contact with you.

“Perfect, I truly thought you were smart, but in this type of situation, you’re so dense!” Azul huffs.

“Ok, ok, before accusing me of anything else, you mind telling me what’s going on?” You say as you cross your arms.

“You know exactly what’s going on…right?” He mutters.

Azul looks at you, his glare never changing until you can see something click for him. His eyes go a little wide and he looks at you surprised.

Shit…you didn’t know the courting rituals of merfolk, did you? I mean it would only make sense, you were a human, and you weren’t exactly from this world…

“Ah…Perfect. How to explain this—“

“How to explain what?” You sigh.

Azul takes a breath in and puts his glasses back on before continuing.

“I suppose there’s differences in each culture varying from land to sea, and in truth that is what makes them all unique in their own ways…uh—“ he pauses again, rubbing his temples.

“in merfolk culture, those who may be interested in another tend to give gifts as a means of courting. Do you understand that? Need I say more?”

You stare at him blankly, blink a few times, then take a breath in.

“Courting?”

“Courting.” Azul confirms.

“By that you mean Floyd is trying to…trying to get with me? Date me?” You murmur, your eyes widening.

“Precisely.” Azul sighs. “And while I have no problem with that in a sense, you ignoring his advances have caused him to be more—more in a sour mood, lately, more than he usually is, anyways. It’s truly putting a stunt into the business of the lounge due to him working less…it’s cumbersome.” Azul sighs again, longer this time.

You look at Azul, then to Grim who seems even more surprised than you. He looks over at you and looks about ready to cry.

“NOOOOO. HENCHHUMAN NO! NO, NO! YOU WILL NOT NOOOOOOO!” Grim whines, grabbing your arm and shaking you.

“Tell Floyd off, Azul! Ain’t no way my Henchhuman is gonna fall in the grips of that slimy eel!” Grim complains

Azul puts up his hand, shushing Grim.

“That’s not my decision, and you both practically know Floyd as well as I do…and to be fair I don’t exactly know why he’s courting since neither him nor Jade have ever tried in their life, not even back in the coral sea…but, Perfect,” Azul narrows his eyes at you, “don’t make a decision that will ruin my business…” and with that, he leaves you and Grim, slamming the door to the VIP lounge.

“Henchhuman you can’t be considerin’ this! There’s a lot of better guys out there…like Kalim, rich too!”

“Floyd and Jade are pretty rich, too, Grim—“

“And he lives above land, and he has Jamil who makes great food! I think if you’re going for someone go for him.” He interrupts.

“Grimmy, it ain’t just about the money for one…” you sigh.

“YOU’RE CONSIDERING THIS?!” He yells, he looks ready to faint.

Truth was, that as much as you acted like you didn’t like Floyd, you honestly kind of did. For what, though? Hard to tell. Maybe it was his laid back attitude, or maybe it was his looks, though he kinda looked like a gremlin, or maybe you just liked him for, well, him…

Grim is already walking(floating) away, but you let him this time…you’ll find him later, guarantee, probably caught up with some mess he always manages to make. Instead, you take a breath in and walk to where the pools are located.

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

You push through the double doors to the pool room and you find Floyd swimming in circles, bored mumbling obscenities to himself. You get closer, your footsteps echoing on the tiled floor.

“If it’s you ‘zul, I don’t wanna hear what you have ta say, ain’t gonna change anything, and—“ he looks up and sees you. He stops talking then stops swimming. Slowly, his pout forms into a smirk and he swims over to the edge of the pool.

“Shrimpy~ I knew you’d come…” he gives you a closed eye grin. He hoists himself up out of the pool and sits on the edge, the rest of his tail in the water.

You walk over to him and sit next to him, keeping at least a few feet between you in hopes you don’t get wet.

“Sorry I didn’t notice earlier…I guess?” you murmur. You look at him. His smile doesn’t fade, he moves his face closer to yours. “About the courting or whatever, I mean. Actually, it’s more your fault cause how were you gonna do that to me when I didn’t even know what it meant? Ah, whatever. Guess it’s just good I know now, right?” you tease. Floyd giggles and boops your nose.

“Thought you knew. You seemed smart, but maybe I gave ya too much credit for that, huh?” He teases back.

You nudge him gently with your shoulder, your uniform blazer sticking slightly to his viscous skin…

He smiles and holds out a closed fist to you. You look up at him and furrow your brows, looking at his gesture confused.

He turns his fist and opens it, revealing a pearl necklaces with shiny scales that obviously didn’t belong to him. Now that you understood the implications somewhat of the gifts, you hesitate to take it, but he plops it into the palm or your hand. You clip it around your neck and let out a soft hum as the light glints of the scales.

“It’s pretty,..uh, I guess just like you, thank you?” You murmur. Floyd grins even more and practically pounces on you.

“You’re too cute shrimpy…” he hums, rubbing his cheek against yours. “You get it now, yea? Good…now you gotta do it back…I only like expensive things so—“

“Floyd, let’s just skip that, ok?” You chuckle. “I like you, too…without the gifts you’ve given me, though, they are nice…”

“Hmmm…guess I can see past it just this once…” he sighs. He pulls back a little and grins at you. You look back at him and can’t help but smile.

“Do you know how we seal a courtship?” His smiling never faltering.

“Let me guess, a ki—“

Floyd crashes his lips against yours and shuts you up. A small sound of surprise leaves you. He pulls away and giggles, watching as your face turns bright red.

“Hmmm…now I’m bored, Shrimpy…oh, I know let’s go for swim!”

Oh no.

That’s it for now my lovelies! Also this was my first work on Ao3 and ofc transferring it over here may have messed it up a lot more, so if it’s bad that’s why 💀 (I also can write rlly well some days and others I can’t, weird thing…)

Ao3 link here since I have 3 other works posted on there that aren’t on my Tumblr page quite yet—> https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_cherub

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, repost if you’d want to!

Pictures belong to Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

[jheselbraum]

Birth of a Nation revitalized the KKK in America and is perhaps the only piece of "irredeemable media" I can think of that's actually like. You know, a story, and I don't know of anything else off the top of my head that had that kind of lasting, palpably harmful impact that isn't like, direct state mandated propaganda like Mein Kampf. In 1915 the KKK was effectively dead, they'd slowly dissolved around the 1870s (particularly after the introduction of the Ku Klux Klan Act of 1871) and Birth of a Nation led to the most notorious American terrorist group reforming. As far as I'm concerned, DW Griffith has actual blood on his hands, for murders committed at the very least through the 40s (they disbanded temporarily in 1944 after America's most effective violent crime task force, the IRS, got involved, though it could be argued he's only responsible for murders committed by the KKK through the 20s, as membership declined rapidly after that once people saw that being part of a terrorist organization wasn't like how it was in the movie).

And like, look I generally don't think the word "irredeemable" can really be applied to art in any form, but there is something viscerally reprehensible about Birth of a Nation that makes us not want to watch it. Like it (arguably) pioneered a lot of film techniques but that's more of the science side of film than the art side, I'm completely certain that people would have figured out that contrasting long shots with close-ups made movies more interesting if Birth of a Nation was left on the cutting room floor. (In fact, several of the techniques 'pioneered' by Birth of a Nation were actually from earlier films, it's just that DW Griffith was more popular and his films are the ones that were remembered). But like we don't screen this movie publicly, we don't like it, we don't like the what DW Griffith had to say. Birth of a Nation just... repels people away from it. Its in person screenings are relegated to a few film classes and maybe some klan meetings, though I'm certain there are some racists on 4chan who've downloaded a copy. If you ask normal people to pick one movie to stop existing, there's no way out of it you have to pick one, chances are they'll pick Birth of a Nation, assuming they've even heard of it (my first exposure to it was in high school, some people might not get to it until college, or even later, that's just kind of what happens with something like this. It's not like you can learn about something through cultural osmosis when the culture is trying like hell to osmosis that thing out of itself). It's an acceptable loss.

Meanwhile, from what I've read, I'd say the decision to use A Serbian Film alongside Birth of a Nation is actually a reasonable one, not because of the graphic nature of it's content, but rather its themes and message and how flat it can feel because of who's saying it (DISCLAIMER: I haven't watched it, I'm not going to watch it, take this with a grain of salt). It's about a man who's forced to commit horrific crimes to survive (economically, though he may be directly threatened with death I'm not sure, he's doing it as a job basically). If you'll recall, Serbia committed genocide during the Bosnian War in the 90s, the targets being primarily Bosniaks but also including anyone in Bosnia and Herzegovina that wasn't Serbian.

The director of the film, Srđan Spasojević, had this to say when asked if the acts depicted in the film were related in any way to crimes committed during the Yugoslav Wars:

A Serbian Film does not touch upon war themes, but in a metaphorical way deals with the consequences of post-war society and a man that is exploited to the extreme in the name of securing the survival of his family.

Additionally, he described the film as "a diary of our own molestation by the Serbian government ... It's about the monolithic power of leaders who hypnotize you to do things you don't want to do. You have to feel the violence to know what it's about."

A Serbian Film is an exploitation film that's apparently considered one of the most disturbing of all time, but the film is not a snuff film as many people have claimed. A snuff film is the filming of actual gruesome crimes like murder, torture, and rape, committed for the purpose of selling the resulting film and making money. It's not "a movie that depicts gruesome crimes like murder, torture, and rape through the use of special or practical effects."

Based on the quick read-through of the Wikipedia article I did, it seems like most of what the film is trying to say is through the lens of the aftermath of the Yugoslav Wars, or at least that's how the audience largely interpreted it. The script writer, Aleksandar Radivojević, said this about the process of securing funding for the film and the state of the Serbian film industry in general.

you had this EU arts council funded production using Serbia for EU's political agitprop agenda of 'promoting tolerance and reconciliation in the post-war Balkans' by boosting sappy local projects of no aesthetic value whose sole reason for receiving EU financing was their respective authors' willingness to amplify the EU-approved message, i.e. to express 'Serb contrition over what happened in the Yugoslav Wars' via essentially making victim porn, showing small miserable Serb people who are struggling mightily while nevertheless simultaneously 'doing their part in search of collective redemption' by being extremely remorseful

Now, I'm a white American who does not experience racism of any kind, let alone the violently dehumanizing prejudice necessary to convince a group of people to commit an ethnic cleansing, but if my people had been the victims of a genocide, and I heard someone from the group of people that committed that genocide complain about media depicting his people's remorse, and saw that that guy also wrote a movie where the plot is a man is forced to commit gruesome rapes, and again, my people were gruesomely raped as a part of that guy's country's plan to wipe my people from existence, I'd be fucking pissed. Like again, I haven't seen A Serbian Film, and Radivojević wasn't the only person in the writer's room, so maybe in practice it reads less as "our government was controlling us we did nothing wrong" and more "our government is controlling us and we're monsters for listening." And we can argue the merits of the latter another time, but at least the latter acknowledges that genocide doesn't happen in a vacuum because some schmucks at the top said so, that the people bear as much responsibility as their government.

Now, is A Serbian Film actually trying to say anything about the Yugoslav Wars at all? I don't know. I haven't seen it. Maybe it isn't about the Bosnian genocide at all. But then what is it saying about Serbia? Serbian actor Dragan Bjelogrlić said this about the film and its director, a year after its release:

I have a problem with A Serbian Film. Its director in particular. I've got a serious problem with this boy whose father got wealthy during the 1990s—nothing against making money, but I know how money was made [in Serbia] during the '90s—and then pays for his son's education abroad and eventually the kid comes back to Serbia to film his view of the country using his dad's money and even calls the whole thing A Serbian Film. To me that's a metaphor for something unacceptable. The second generation comes back to the country and using the money that had been robbed from the people of Serbia, smears the very same people by portraying them as the worst scum of the earth.

OP was right, it's fucking insane that this site only uses words like irredeemable media to talk about cartoons for children. Like, no, Steven Universe or The Owl House or My Hero Academia or whatever TV-Y7 cartoon you're hyper focused on that week isn't irredeemable media. Your bar for even discussing it as a possibility is "did this story's public existence revitalize a terrorist organization and lead to several murders," a qualification which A Serbian Film, despite its content, themes, and possible interpretations, does not meet. It's offensive, and disturbing, it possibly excuses genocide, but as far as I've read, no one has gotten physically hurt because it exists.

A Serbian Film is more violently graphic than Birth of a Nation. Birth of a Nation did more to physically harm real people than A Serbian Film ever could.

It's fucking wild that the above reaction to A Serbian Film mentions next to nothing about what it's trying to say, how well it works, who's saying it and in what context, but focuses purely on the graphic and violent scenes depicted in the film. It's probably why they slapped Salo on at the end even though a cursory glance through Wikipedia (I don't care enough to read thoroughly on the plot and themes you get the point graphic exploitation films aren't inherently evil for depicting murder or rape or whatever I don't want to read about more graphic shit it's not something I personally enjoy doing) reveals that that film is strictly antifascist, though several actors were actually injured during filming. Notably, the director of Salo, Pier Paolo Pasolini, was gruesomely abducted, tortured, and murdered in 1975 shortly before Salo's release at the Paris Film Festival. He was openly gay, and a Marxist, and while his death was initially contributed to one Giuseppe Pelosi (17 at the time of the murder) after he confessed, he later retracted his confession claiming that he made it under the threat of violence to his family (which unfortunately tracks, Americans may recall the more recent case of Amanda Knox, who was arrested in 2007 for the murder of her friend and forced by Italian police to confess to a crime she didn't commit and was later exonerated from). The case was reopened after Giuseppe's retraction in 2005 and other evidence that had come to light, and as of 2023 the Italian authorities are looking at the far right group Banda della Magliana as possible suspects. While I agree that "I hear it's kind of. nasty" is frankly an understatement when attempting to discuss the graphic content of Salo, and really fucking hilarious in the context of trying to argue that Salo shouldn't exist at all, I don't know that that's really a fair criticism to make, considering the other two examples are if not directly far right (using the term because of the changing political landscape between 1915 and 2010, like I can't really call Birth of a Nation fascist because it was made before fascism was a fully congealed political ideology, even if it upholds the ideology of fascism) then at least debatably so. As previously established, the actual content of the film, as in, the acts depicted, don't immediately make a work reprehensible. Remember, A Serbian Film is more graphic and disturbing to watch than Birth of a Nation, but Birth of a Nation is worse than A Serbian Film.

Tldr; op is right, and the person whose tags have been drowned is exactly the kind of person op was talking about

'Irredeemable media' is such a funny concept to me because it's never used for stuff like Birth of a Nation or A Serbian Film. It's always The Owl House or My Hero Academia because these people only watch things for children and can't stand any conflict more complex than Super Mario Brothers.

[ghost-bison]

a christopher eccleston appreciation post

i will never say this enough because i don't know enough words, nor do i think such words exist, that could even begin to summarize how much i love christopher eccleston, but... i love christopher eccleston. and, more importantly, i have a deep-rooted respect for that man.

i started doctor who as, let's be honest, a sci-fi hater, forcing myself because i was obsessed with david tennant, and i was kind of dreading the first series because of this. but i was dead wrong.

he broadened my mind, gave me so many laughs, and so many cries, and i'm not the first to say that whenever eccleston is on the screen you just can't take your eyes off him, even when he's not supposed to be the main focus of the scene.

the way he can switch from silly goose to traumatized soldier in a matter of seconds will never cease to amaze me. or how he can play with both like he's on a swing by balancing it out with sarcasm?

i think whoever doesn't give him the title role in their shows/films is either an idiot, or they know the main character just isn't always the best.

i think it's downright idiotic and shameful that he gets rejected from ever playing some shakespeare just because of his northern accent (they're just posh elitist pos). now that he's older, and that times are evolving (i mean, i hope the world of theater is vibing with this evolution, but i'm not delusional), i hope we get to see him portray a character like leontes in winter's tale cause i know he'd be absolutely perfect for the role, and who better than shakespeare (this character especially, with his nuances and highs and lows and breakdowns and breakthroughs) to match acting like his?

saw an article where eccleston talked about how the moment he really knew he wanted to be an actor was when he had to wear mascara for a play, and had enjoyed it. i think he talks about it in his autobiography too (you should read it, btw, it's frankly affordable, and he happens to be a marvelous writer as well).

eccleston knows he is mistakenly type-cast, because of his background, as macho men and tough blokes in general. he's aware that it's kind of a big part of his culture. again, he talks about it i think in the very first chapter, how for instance he used to dress up as james bond, the pinnacle of "masculinity", which i think was a disguise in the metaphorical sense of the term, to mask his delicacy and femininity (or at least, that's my interpretation of it).

in his biography, eccleston talks about the differences between him and his dad, ronnie: he was surprised, as a child, whenever his father's affection manifested as a kiss or a hug, cause that usually wasn't his father's way of doing things. he compares it to how he, in contrast, has the habit of kissing his own son, albert, and telling him he loves him.

you can find it as well in how he talks about his anorexia, his body dysmorphia and, i think we can call it that, gender dysphoria. he's from a time when those concepts didn't even exist, they weren't a thing to the public eye. my father and my step-father, both feminine men in their own way, and both around eccleston's age, both told me about the struggle that it represented, not being the stereotype of the macho tough guy, and being surrounded by boys who didn't struggle with that issue. it made my dad a junkie, my stepdad a depressive artist, and, apparently, it made eccleston an anorexic actor.

i think it takes a lot of courage for people that age (the boomer generation as we call them), especially men, from whom we expect toxic masculinity, masculinity pushed to an extreme, to be able to openly call it out and dissect it into what it is: a ridiculous standard. but to be a PUBLIC FIGURE, in his 60s, and still find the strength to express it? damn. takes guts, i think.

most of us on this website, we're babies. most of us are at most in their thirties. the millenials and the gen z, and now the gen alpha, we take that for granted. or get offended and scandalized that being able to express oneself isn't yet a basic standard.

but then, i talk to my mum, and i realize that she had to stray from her catholic, sexist education, she had to make up her own mind about things in order for me to be born a free spirit. and that's just considering my mum's a cishet.

christopher eccleston expressed in other words that he doesn't fully consider himself to be cisgendered. i have mad respect for the way he talks about it, and for even talking about it at all.

then, there's his honesty. the more interviews i watch, the more it impresses me. he knows honesty goes hand in hand with dignity. i'm sorry but i'm tired of people who are nice all the time. you never know when they're being honest, and maybe some of them are, who knows. but i'm not stupid enough to think that so many people are just pure sunshine all the time (respect for tennant for lashing out publically about transphobia, i think he passed the test).

eccleston? he knows how to be both brutally honest and yet respectful at the same time. no ukulele apology from this man and holy fuck, it feels good!

i've seen him call russel t davies out for his lack of professionalism on the set of doctor who, and then list him amongst the great writers he's worked with. which makes me want to believe eccleston's side, because, if you're always either too polite, or too full of spite about eveything, who's to say you're not the problem? i've got way less trouble believing you if you can stay unbiased about a person you're having beef with than if suddenly everything said person does turns into shit just cause you don't like them. that's just maturity and wisdom.

one last thing i love about eccleston is that he is interested in other people's lives. there's a critic by marcus berkmann in his book that perfectly expresses my point: "you know what to expect from the autobiographies of most actors, i think: anecdotes, charm, more than mild self-satisfaction and faux-modesty by the bucketload. but christopher eccleston is not most actors".

and that's it. watch him in interviews and at convention panels, where he lets his younger co-stars speak before himself, and seizes the occasion when journalists ask him questions that are meant to make him talk about himself to praise his writers and other actors instead.

read his autobiography, which is both a love letter to his dad and a big let's-be-honest about the struggles of growing up poor and his personal struggles, because he thinks raising awareness is just as important as protecting himself.

look at his instagram posts where he unabashedly disses the monarchy and stays true and loyal to his background even after getting a taste of money. and his other posts where he shares his love for acorns and spending time with his kids.

i've seen him nearly break down in shame and regret on television for having stolen a kid's crisps in primary school. and not trying to find lame excuses for his behaviour. no ukulele apology, just facts, just christopher eccleston showing us what masculinity in its purest, most beautiful form should be about

[thewalrusespublicist]

"Tbh I was starting to feel a bit down about my blog and what I was putting out ( the eternal crisis on how to give full answers and opinions without being stupid, boring and annoying lol)"

OMG no way! Your blog is one of the best here! What i love the most is reading the analysis and meta from the users, there's always more information and good takes, and yours are always quite deep and insightful.

I would love if you share your opinions about Stuart as well. I feel like he is obviously more sanctified that he should be since he died young (like that insane quote from his mom saying that Brian told her that Stuart could have been the Beatles' manager, no way lol) and i feel his memory has been used to attack Paul, sometimes in a very unfair way. Like, i don't deny the teenage drama and jealousy that Paul felt about him but he *was* a shitty bass player and the band was Paul's future, he was allowed to criticized him not only for being John's new bestie. I also think John played with them both but i lack of your eloquence so i will love to read your take about it.

Hi anon! And the other anons!

Thank you again and to all the other messages I got, they were extremely sweet and really made my day. :)

From my inbox, it's clear you guys want to know about Stu and his role in the Beatles legacy. Well you asked for it and a novel you shall have. Be warned this might be the longest post I've done so grab like a drink or something.

A few disclaimers: I wish and had intended for this to be more of a deep dive into Stu as a whole person rather than just his relationship with John and Paul. Unfortunately I just didn't have the space to do it. If you want to know more about Stu I would highly recommend @eppysboys' blog which is the source for all things Stu Sutcliffe and where I got a lot of this info. Please check their stuff out. Also, I'm going to be a bit blunter on this than maybe I usually am because this topic has been irritating me for some time. Oh also I’m trying my best to answer a lot of asks in one post so please forgive if I don’t fully answer your specific ask about this!

Stu in a perfect world should be a fandom darling: an exciting cipher, a handsome artistic talent that died way too soon who had a major influence in the early Beatles style. It's like there’s this secret other James Dean looking mf Beatle hidden away to uncover, that's cool and he is cool! The problem is that he’s sort of becomes radioactive to talk about in a normal way due to how he's been portrayed and utilised in some biographies and fandom spaces, particularly those that have been infected by John Lennon aspirational boy bestie syndrome. As those types of spaces cannot seem to exist without tearing down Paul to prop John up as their special lil guy, Stu as John's other best friend has become the ideal heavy object to hit Paul McCartney over the head with. It's like a corrosive element, the minute Stu hits a Beatles bio, the biographer suddenly loses all training in objectivity and source work and starts waxing lyrical about 100 percent reliable never biased or wrong Saint Stu of Hamburg who died for our condom arson sins and that Paul McCartney should feel bad about every day of his life for not worshipping Stu and not accepting his own ‘place’ in life as John's just-some-guy placeholder best friend. I’ve personally seen so many posts and forums where Stu being mentioned leads to a legion of comments about how Paul could never have been Stu (correct both ways) and how John would never have even glanced at Paul for much longer if Stu had been alive. Sidenote: If you seriously think that the musical savant from down the road whom John went on to produce the most prolific song writing partnership in history with couldnt have kept his attention for long then I'm begging you on hands and knees to get your head out of the arse of your John Lennon body pillow and be serious. But anyway…

This boy bestie battle royale approach has in turn lead to a reflex reaction where Stu gets studiously ignored by other sections of the fandom as a precedent has been set that shining a light on him diminishes Paul and John's relationship with Paul. It's frustrating because if people weren't so keen to cut Paul out of his own story then we would get a much better nuanced view of every single person involved.

So let's put aside all of our defenses, cut the John Lennon loved one ranking system bullshit and lets look at the actual question here which is what was John and Stu's relationship really like and what did he mean to John?

John and Stu met at art college a year or so after Paul and John met. Up to that point John and Paul had their fun little codependant thing going on but Stu quickly became a huge fixture in John's life. Stu had things that Paul couldn't really offer at that point in time. John was at his heart a musician who aspired to be seen as an artist (he would later express surprise that he didn't become an artist). Stu was the passionate artist who knew tons about the art of the period that could teach and inspire John. Their creative leanings meant they could work on projects together and share art notebooks and poetry. (Including yes the one with anti-semitic story which I mention again as I believe it's an important thing to remember when it comes to both John and Stu and the culture of the time.) Stuart by the sounds of it was even writing a novel about John at the time of his death. They were fascinated and inspired by each other.

So, creatively they fired each other up but more importantly perhaps, Stu and John were peers. It's funny to think about when you see the Beatles later but at the time Paul and George were the kids in their school uniform coming to see their cool older friend at art school. That's an important divide. When Paul and George's parents insisted their kids do their homework and go to bed, John and Stu could stay up and talk all hours of the night, which they did. They also could rent a place together and spend long hours chatting (despite John moving out later after realising electricity cost money lol.) There's a different dynamic that the age similarity offered as well. Whilst Paul would later somewhat grow into this role, Stu could act as an authority figure to John as well as open up to John in a way you can really only do with your peers. Stu was the person John opened up to throughout Stu's life:

How long can one go on writing and writing like you. I now don’t really know who I’m writing to or why it’s quiet peculiar. I usually write like this and forget about it but if I put it in a little part of my [almost?] secret self in the hands of someone miles away who will wonder what the hell is going on or just pass it off as toilet paper. Anyway I don’t care really what happens because when I think about it, it’s so bloody unimportant – but what is important who has the right to say that this letter is not important and this is a something any way – anyway – anyway – yeah! I wonder what it would be like to be a cretin or something. I bet it’s gear. & how are you keepin Stuart old chap are you as ok – is life as good – bad shite, great – wonderful as it was or is it just a thousand years of nothing and coolness on and on and on. I think this is it Goodbye Stu don’t write out of – er what is it? well not because you think you ought to write when you feel like So goodbye (from John you know the one with glasses) ANYWAY BYE BYE see you soon I don’t know why I said that I remember a time when everyone I loved hated me because I hated them so what so what so fucking what I remember a time when belly buttons were knee high when only shitting was dirty and everything else clean + beautiful I can’t remember anything without a sadness So deep that it hardly becomes known to me so deep that its tears leave me a spectator of my own STUPIDITY + so I go rambling on with a hey nonny nonny nonny no

Extract from a letter to Stuart Sutcliffe from John Lennon, 1961

By lots of accounts Stu was gentle but firm when it came to telling John he'd gone too far. John references this aspect of Stu to Hunter Davies:

"I looked up to Stu. I depended on him to tell me the truth. Stu would tell me if something was good and I'd believe him."

The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (Hunter Davies)

In this way I kind of see Stu as a proto-Yoko. John was so insecure and uncertain about his grip on the world and reality that he relied on Stu to be his point of reference and guide. Paul did this too later and I think in Hunter Davies John mentions this, but not at this time period and not as much due to their competitiveness. This may be why some people saw Stu as the person that really understood John at this time period:

"During the turbulent adolescence that prefaced a turbulent manhood, hardly anyone knew Lennon as intimately as Stuart Sutcliffe. If they weren't exactly David and Jonathan, June Furlong, one of the life models at Liverpool's Regional College of Art, had "never seen two teenagers as close as those two."

The Gospel According To Lennon by Alan Clayson

Now this person likely never met John and Paul together but this is only one of many similar quotes and even Julia captain of John and Paul's friendship boat seems to agree there was a period where Stu dominated and Paul 'kept his distance' from the John-Cyn-Stu 'menage-a-trois'. But the friendship wasn't perfect and his position as John's ultimate best friend was never iron clad. This is best outlined by the shit they pulled when John convinced him to join on Bass for the Beatles.

Despite being John's best friend, Stu was teased and bullied:

"They argued as usual amongst themselves, but most of all they picked on Stu, the newest member of the group. John, George and Paul had been with each other long enough to know that rows and arguments and criticism didn't mean much. If it did, you just argued back. "We were terrible," says John. "We'd tell Stu he couldn't sit with us, or eat with us. We'd tell him to go away, and he did." At one hotel they stayed at, a variety show had just left. There had been a dwarf in the show and they found out which bed he had slept in and said that would have to be Stu's. They certainly weren't going to sleep in it. So Stu had to. "That was how he learned to be with us," says John. "It was all stupid, but that was what we were like."

The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (Hunter Davies)

Why John encouraged this I have no idea, maybe jealousy over Stu's looks and wanting to play people off each other? Things were tense in both Scotland and Hamburg, especially between Stu and Paul. As I said in my last post, the girls were fighting and it was mutual. Paul was mad for both fair and immature teenage-boy reasons. Stu could not be bothered with the bass most of the time and couldn't really play well and was only there as he was '(John's) best friend' (ouch for Paul). Paul conversely had given up higher education to be there and was sending lots of money back home. He also was dating the girl Paul fancied. Stu was popular with the new group and also did mean things like help John steal Paul's money when money was really tight for him. Paul in turn was a passive aggressive, jealous and mean. It all came to ahead in the punch up onstage which according to Spitz came about from Paul wanting money back and saying that Stu could borrow some from Astrid. Stu goes for him and reports vary from full-on bust up to embarrassing scuffle. Stu then goes to where Astrid and Paul's gf Dot are, demands Dot leaves and goes on a rant about Paul. Now all of this must be framed in the context of Stu receiving increasing brain damage from his condition that seemingly lead to mood swings and anger. Nevertheless, the mutual needling and anger, as well as John's refusal to do/say fuck all about it, especially given how protective John was of Stu, suggests that it wasn’t straightforward and/or John may have been playing some games to make both feel threatened. This would also make sense as to why we hear conflicting accounts of John and Stu being the centre of everything and everyone else in orbit AND John and Paul being the centre and everyone else playing catch-up, as well as John giving Paul the lead to take him round the Reeperbahn when John got dressed in the gorilla costume. (I know Paul may have just been the closest there but that always gave off bestie behaviour to me.)

(I did get an ask about how John and Paul's friendship survived it, I think it was damaged by Hamburg. When Paul got back home he got a job at a construction site and there's just a vibe of everything being a bit on tenterhooks. John also acts a bit weird at the period, not talking to anyone for a few weeks then making a lot of weird demands from Paul. I'm really not sure what to make of it.)

Even when he's back in Liverpool, John still writes long letters to Stu and vice-versa. I can't find it at all but I’ve read a really sad interview with John saying he missed his best mate and it's a shame that he's not with them. He had no idea at that point that Stu had already died of a brain hemorrhage at 21.

John is said to have gone into hysterics when he found out Stu had died. A lot of people who've spoken about this time (Aunt Mimi, his sister Julia, the Exsis) concur that at this point Stu was his best friend and the death shattered him. He even told Astrid he wished he could give his life for Stu’s. This is backed up by the fact that John never forgot Stu and his shadow lingered for the rest of John's life:

Stu was recalled in In My Life

Years later, after John composed the first of his truly poignant and heartfelt Beatles songs, "In My Life"—with its lines about "friends I still can recall/some are dead and some are living"—he revealed to me that the two people he had had uppermost in mind were myself and Stuart Sutcliffe. And then he stunned me with a statement that I'd never heard him address to anyone—least of all to another man. "You know, Pete," he said softly, "I do love you. But," he quickly added, "I loved Stuart as well."

Weird that Paul isn't mentioned surely you think that he would be mentioned if Pete was there too okay, okay my tin hat is going away this isn't the time

Pete Shotton, Nicholas Schaffner, John Lennon: In My Life

In 1965 John drew Stu on a postcard

He apparently said this about Stu prior to sending the postcard, prompted by an article about Stuart.

The card had been sent from Genoa mid-way through the Beatles' Italian tour. [...] But the conversation had become maudlin when I reminded him that he was going to talk to me for an article about Stuart. [...] In that sad telephone conversation before they set off for Milan, I asked him if he was happy: 'I'd be a lot happier if Stuart was still part of us,' he said, 'The Beatles would be complete.' And before he rang off he said 'Ill send you something.'

He also appears on the cover of Sgt Pepper

As mentioned, Stu gets mentioned in Hunter Davies in terms of wistfulness and guilt AND he gets a mention in John's insane 'if I were a homosexual' ramblings in early 70s. According to Yoko, John also wanted Yoko to write letters to him and didn't think it would be strange because Stu wrote letters to him.

I have a pet theory that as with a lot of things for John, his unresolved grief over Stu really came to the fore in the late 60s now that he had actually had a chance to sit down and think about things. I believe it was partially why he wanted Yoko to write letters and why he gets mentioned in the early 70s as a collaborator/best friend and not in 1980 where John only gives that credit to Paul and Yoko. I think with the cracks with Paul, John had started to think back on his old friend and guide and what advice he would give.

Stuarts presence is still felt throughout the seventies:

“He told me everything. He loved to talk about Hamburg. There were no secrets. It was the kind of life I never knew…. It meant total freedom. At his side always was Stuart, sweet Stuart. There wasn’t a time in John’s life when he didn’t think about Stuart. He spoke always of his love and respect for Stuart.”

Yoko discussing Stu in When They Were Boys: The True Story of the Beatles’ Rise to the Top by Larry Kane

Coming to grips with his death is also present in Skywriting

SEAN O’HAIRE: What happened to Stuart Cliff? DR. FISCHY: What happened was a full exchange of energy where it was not needed within the expression of your own self or in the energies involved around and about you. We cannot call it a happening. We’ll say it is an awakening, for in that way it has served an expression from the past to the present and to the future to where there shall be more of that incomplete vibration expressed to you in a more fuller understanding.

Skywriting by Word of Mouth, John Lennon

This isn't exhaustive but I think from all this it's pretty clear that John adored Stu, John grieved Stu and kept grieving Stu. Stu had a specific place in his life as a confidant that he tried to recreate with Yoko. At the time of Stu's death, he was John's best friend, probably slightly over Paul. Stuart had been able to be both a friend and paternal presence, a confidant and an artistic collaborator. His presence and loss was one of the foundational points in John's life.

But as we've been asked to play this stupid game and so many bios like to make a hoopla about it, were they at their closest ever as close as John and Paul were at their height?

No.

How do we know? Because John told us so:

" He [Paul] still is the closest friend I've ever had, except for Yoko, so I'm still close to him whatever goes on."

John Lennon to an interviewer, 1971

But Walrus! John just says shit! How do we know he isn't leaving out Stu because the press don't know Stu. Well true John does just say shit but this is at a time where John isn't the most glowing about Paul and he's had no problem mentioning Stu in this time period ('one of my best friends ever' would have made a similar point).

But Walrus again! If John picked Stu over Paul when they were young why wouldn't he be the boy bestie of all time, and why would John say that he was closer to Paul? Well, because of the environment and timings. Stu's death happened near the beginning of John and Paul's major bonding moments. If you look at their personal timeline, Paris, the Nerk twins, and getting signed happened just before Stu died. That's missing the major years of Beatlemania, Key West, LSD, Paul growing more into being John's peer and a load of other huge moments in their lives. It's like how John writes to Cyn in 1962 about wanting the house to themselves and not have Paul around all the time. Would you say because he feels closer to Cyn then that John in his overall lifetime loved Cyn more than Paul? No, because relationships change over time and theirs were no exception. (One thing to consider as well is that we don't yet have many letters between John and Paul during their Beatles years and earlier, probably because they were spending so much time with each other. We know a couple exist that Paul considers too personal for publication but I'm sure there are others. It's easy to understand what John felt for Stu as we have the letters, I think we would also have an easier time understanding what John felt for Paul if we had the equivalent of those.)

At the end of the day Paul was the man he believed he had a psychic bond with, the man he couldn’t shut up about, the man whom he’d conquered the world with with their endless collaboration, the man with a twin personality to him and according to John spent more time with throughout the 60s than he had with Yoko ever. To be frank if Paul had died in 67' I don't think this would have been a conversation.

As mentioned early, in early 1970s John elevates his partnership with Stu to his collaborations with Paul and Yoko but by 1980 he’s pretty clear that Paul and Yoko are their own category.

"I was saying to somebody the other day, “There’s only two artists I’ve ever worked with for more than a one night stand, as it were. That’s Paul McCartney, and Yoko Ono.” And I think that’s a pretty damned good choice!!"

John Lennon interview with DJ Dave Sholin, 1980

There are of course the what ifs. Would Stu still being alive mean that John was not as close with Paul? Maybe, highly doubtful though as the Beatles experience was so intense. If Stu remained a Beatle would John be as close with Paul? If Stu remained a Beatle he wouldn't be Stu so no. At the same time who knows what it would have been like if Paul and John were peers from the off? I said this to @the62ndbugsfan when it comes to Stu vs Paul (hi girl sorry i've made our chat a whole ass post lol) but to go a bit Wuthering Heights, soulmates are made as much from the earth as they are of the stars. What binds us is our experiences just as much as our personalities. There may be a universe where Stu and John took on the art world together or became inseparable bffs again after the Beatles disbanded, but it is not our universe. In this universe Stu tragically died and John and Paul chose to become Lennon/McCartney and artistically unite themselves forever.

Even going back to Stu's lifetime, I've said it before and I'll say it again I find it interesting that not only did John choose to go to Paris with Paul rather than pay to meet up with Stu somewhere but that they arranged to meet up with Juergen and nobody told Stu until they'd already gone. Stu was shocked and didn't know if it meant the end of the Beatles which is a pretty big thing for him not to know about. Why didn't John tell him if they're apparently still writing long letters? Was it because he really wanted to do this with Paul and didn't want to hurt Stu's feelings? And that's really the point I want to make here. Due to his trauma John was preoccupied with reinforcing ranking of relationships within his life. But the thing is friendship rankings are made up guidelines and the reality is far more complicated. You can have a designated best friend but feel closer to another friend at times, you can want to do one thing specifically with one friend and not the other for various reasons. You can (as I do) have more than one equal best friend. Friendship as with most relationships are in a constant state of flux and each friendship you have will give and mean a different thing, even if they are of similar value to you.

Paul may have ended up closer to John than Stu had been, but that doesen't make John's relationship with Stu any less special. Nor does Stu negate the significance of Paul. Whilst both fit into John's pattern of intense relationships and demands related to that, both had unique positions and meaning to him. Considering what I've gone into about John's closeness to Stu, it actually says something deeply, borderline unnervingly, intense about John and Paul that Paul pipped Stu to the post. Maybe it's time Beatles bios accept the fact that John Lennon just wouldn't be into them like that, stop using a tragically prematurely deceased young man as a prop in their jealous psychological warfare against Paul McCartney, stop perpetuating one of the most damaging games that John did to his loved ones and allow both relationships the space to shine and showcase the amazing talent that was the Beatles and those that surrounded them.

[arthurianlegend144]

Mouthwashing, Capitalism and the illusion of individual choice.

I have made two posts about Mouthwashing and Capitalism, but I want to make a longer post about it. Also, I would like to read what others have to say about the subject :D

Let’s define some words first: 

Capital: difficult to be defined, but let’s summarize it as the way the capitalist society works, it’s not a thing, but all the social relations that make capitalism exist. 

Ideology: as defined by Marx, it is the ideas of the elite that are forced onto the worker class to maintain the current system

Marxism: also known as historical materialism, it analyses social conflict between classes, classes relations and social transformation. 

To be clear, this analysis will be Marxist in nature, if you don’t agree with the Marxist way of seeing social interactions, then I am afraid this post isn’t for you.

To start, let’s think about Pony Express. A lot of people have already expressed how all things considered Pony Express acts like the average corporation: cold and incompetent. But is it really incompetent?

A feeling I think is very common for the majority with people who have class conscience, but not a deep understanding of the machinations of capitalism, is the feeling of confusion. Why are things so cruel? Why are people agreeing with those things? Why does injustice exist? The thing is that for those injustices and cruelty needs to exist for the capital to maintain itself. 

Pony Express isn’t incompetent, it’s cheap by design. The system is always there, looming over those characters and their social interactions even when they are away from Earth. So much so that when in a dire situation, they are still scared of losing credits. 

A bunch of other posts, including mine, have talked about how hopeless the situation was in the Tulpar, because of the company’s rules, so I won’t repeat myself. But like I said before, keeping systems that enable abuse of all kinds are a feature, not a bug. That’s why a lot of Marxists think that individualizing causes weakens them, since the root cause of why those problems still exist is capitalism. If people are busy hating others or getting tortured, they won’t notice they are all getting explored. 

I think this post here has basically all the important points of things that are wrong with Pony Express, I would recommend reading it before continuing reading this post.

I will also elaborate on why I think Jimmy is a good representation of ideology. Like I said in the post I linked, I think Jimmy has a little bit of class conscience, because of one of his hallucinations (the one of him watching the TV), and by what Curly has said about him, Jimmy was probably struggling financially before Curly found him a job. Despite knowing that he is being exploited and oppressed, Jimmy is blinded by the hopelessness of ideology and his own paranoia.

His friendship with Curly is especially soured by ideology, despite knowing he is from the worker class, Jimmy can’t see Curly as an equal. Curly may have a bigger salary and a higher position in the company, but he is also being exploited, he is burnt out and getting ill by his work environment. Jimmy is so blinded by ideology that not even the knowledge that he is oppressed is enough to stop him from lashing out and hurting others in the same situation as he is. Jimmy used the system that Pony Express made to enact his anger.

I have expressed before that I think Jimmy shouldn’t have been in the Tulpar in the first place. But Pony Express is like every company, pretending they care about their employees mental health, while they wouldn’t pay for any medical bill and would put a man like Jimmy to work in an isolated place that can make any sane person go insane. Health isn’t important, what’s important is for them to work like horses until they can’t work anymore, becoming useless to the system.

Then we arrive at the illusion of individual choice. All the rules that Pony Express made were designed to keep employees quiet and scared of punishment, the perfect environment for abuse. I think it is specially cruel that they gave the captain a gun and also made a rule that all accidents in the work place aren’t their responsibility. If Anya or Curly actually used that gun, I am sure they would be punished, and Pony Express wouldn’t be held responsible for what happened. 

There was little they could do to avoid more conflict or to avoid the situation all together, so much all the characters seem to have accepted that’s how things are. No safety, no comfort, just work and work in precarious situations, stepping in eggshells trying to avoid getting punished all the time. They rarely complain about their work environment and when they do, they seem to have normalized how dangerous everything is, Jimmy isn’t the only one getting fooled by ideology.

Individual choice isn’t real. Anya wanted to be in medical school, Curly wanted to be satisfied with his life, Swansea was just doing what was expected of a “good man”, Daisuke felt like he was good for nothing. And well Jimmy… Jimmy was very mentally ill, in an ideal world he shouldn’t even be worrying about work, but he needed money. 

In the end of the day, we talk about Jimmy’s responsibility, but he isn’t the only one that will never be held responsible for what happened in the Tulpar. The only thing that Pony Express will actually regret is the fact they lost more money by losing the mouthwash cargo. They will blame the crew for what happened, whether they find Curly in the cryopod is irrelevant, because they won’t take responsibility for causing suffering their workers couldn't escape.

I guess that’s what I have to say for now, if you guys want to add something or disagree, I will be more than happy to discuss things.

[zzalina]

One day more or Sale el sol? Los Mis 2010

Okay so yesterday I made a post about Los Miserables 2010 and discovered there's more people who love it??? Someone asked me about the spanish translation of les mis and it was the straw that broke the camel's back for me to finally make a post. You have NO IDEA how long I've wanted to talk about this. Anyway, today I'll be talking about the 2010 spanish translation BUT I already have in my drafts a post comparing the spanish 1992, spanish 2010 and the original english versions. Without furhter ado, here are my thoughts about Sale el sol:

First things first: the title. "Sale el sol" means "The sun rises". I didn't use to like the translation because they could have gone with "Un día más" (as they did in 1992). It means exactly "one day more" and fits the music almost perfectly (you just have to pronounce it a little bit weird but nothing that isn't a common thing to do in songs). But then I saw this tweet:

"The phrase the sun rises instead of one day more to speak about resilience in a country in which the sun was used by fascists makes one feel mental peace, feel justice, feel art and revolution, it feels like recovering the light and coming out of the shadows"

A little bit of context: Spain was in a fascist dictatorship until 1975. There is a famous song from that time called "Cara al sol" ("Facing the sun"). It was the anthem of the Falange, a political party, but it's still used today by fascist groups. In this context, claiming the sun for a message like the one this song sends is really poetic justice and I just love it.

They also use the idea of the sun rising in "La canción del pueblo/Do you hear the people sing?" (I'll make a post about that one too) so it really links the two songs together in a very beautiful way. I could speak about the title for hours, but let's go to the lyrics:

On the left you have the original english lyrics, then the 2010 spanish ones and then the translation to english so you can see the differences. Pretty similar tbh

Marius being so dramatic in every langauge

Éponine's verses are always so sad but there is something about her feeling like she doesn't even exist for Marius that breaks my heart even more 💔

There's a lot I could say about Enjolras' part related to the 1992 translation but that will be a different post. Now take a moment to appreciate how Daniel Diges sings this lines pls look it up I love him

As you can see, in the translation we sadly lose the repetition of "one day more" 😔 Also Javert saying that the revolution will be born dead conveys to me the certainty that he had that it was not going to work. The army won't have to do much because the revolution will die by itself (and he was right, the people didn't join 😔)

Honestly I don't fully understand the Thenardier's part in english so I can't properly compare it, but they're so caothic in both languages, this part is so funny.

My favourite part of the song 😭 In english "Do you hear the people sing?" is the title of another song but since that one is called "La canción del pueblo" ("The people's song") they couldn't keep the verse exactly the same. But it's the first verse of The people's song

Just Javert's part bcs it's different, the others are kept the same than previously if I'm not wrong. Once again, there's no repetition in spanish 😔

I find it funny that since the original one talks about dawn at the end they translated it to "un día mas", doing the opposite of what they did with the title. It made me wonder for years why didn't they use it for the whole song since it fits the music. But now I know and you know too.

If you made it this far thank you for reading the post. If you liked it, there'll be more and if you didn't like it I'm sorry but there'll be more because I have a lot to say ✨

[azuralnguyendd]

Emotionally (Un)available

A fanfiction based on Tumblr roleplay blog interaction: @magneto-king-of-genosha and @not-a-professor

(Dialogues are from the original post and so are some paragraphs describing action and thoughts. Some are altered, but nevertheless the same as ever)

A/N: Thank you in advance for reading, and I hope you'll excuse me for my typos that I've missed during my time editing it!

✷ — ✷ — ✷ — ✷

The X-Mansion used to look so lively, one might say after seeing the state it is in now. In the past, the hallways and stairs would be filled students going to and fro, talking about nothing in particular, and the occasional playful banter would be thrown back and forth.

Laughter would fill dormitories and hallways, classrooms used to be filled with students eager for education and perhaps only there for the pranks they were about to pull or the friends they were going to meet. The students would be playing basketball in court outside; some would be doing it for keeping fit sake, others to improve their powers.

Now, it was just... sad. Everyone had already left, no one felt safe staying when a war was happening, and no one was willing either. If anyone were to still be there, it would be agony; living alone in the only place that has once comforted the discriminated, the odd, the freaks. However, it was no longer a place of comfort, just somewhere for memories to fade away.

The Mansion was dark and a bit damped, vines started from the ceiling, climbing their way down the deserted wall and laid on the floor, spreading their arms. All the paintings had fallen from the wall, their frames cracked and pictures faded, no longer can anyone recognize the people in the photograph.

The sunlight was but dim when it shined into the Mansion. Dusk covered furnitures were askewed; some were broken, some were intact, others had fallen over like somebody had a bad tantrum and had to take their anger out on objects. The place looked far from how it used to look like, and maybe it wasn't even the same place.

Sat on a chair in the center of the room, dejected and half drunk, is Charles Xavier, a mutant with a brilliant mindset. However, he wasn't the same anymore. What was left of the will to inspire mutants to be themselves is but just a small amber, barely holding onto its last flicker of flame.

He has resorted to alcoholism to deal with his severe depression, and with everyone gone from his side but one person, he is no longer the Charles Xavier who inspired and helped mutants to have pride in their abilities. He's just some hobo who lived in an abandoned mansion far away from human society.

It's been years, and years he had endured thanks to the serum that his dear friend Hank has made for him. It gave him the ability to walk, one of the many things he'd lost long ago thanks to friendly fire, but it came with a cost: his telepathic abilities. He couldn't read people's thoughts, couldn't predict their next move, and amongst other useful things, couldn't recognize if someone was lying. But, Charles has become so used to an empty and quiet mind that if he goes a minute without it, he might turn insane.

For the past couple weeks, Charles has been doing nothing but drink whiskey from the multiple bottles he found lying around. He didn't exactly know where they come from, but he supposed that he bought it long ago. They weren't opened, and still tasted good; who knows how long they've been sitting in that cabinet though.

Apart from drinking and injecting the serum, Charles also discovered that Magneto - a mutant named Erik Lensherr with the power to manipulate metal- was not in prison. Turned out the Magneto he's been talking to didn't belong to this universe, and the two had realized the concept of multiverse exist. Without further information, they rolled with it. Charles was still bitter about the incident, and despite trying to bring himself to forgive this Erik even though he hasn't done nothing to him, he couldn't. They looked too similar, almost identical.

Charles leaned back, sighing as his hair falls behind the backrest of the chair, thinking and racking his brain for something to do. Nothing, he couldn't do nothing.

The doors of the X-Mansion creaked softly open, and lo and behold, Erik stepped into the Mansion. The doors closed behind him as he approached Charles; his face was concealed by the shadow that the pillars surrounding them casted. Something in his strides told Charles he was frustrated.

Erik did a subtle groan, like he was beyond mad, and sat down next to Charles. He could see his face now that he's closer, and his brows were furrowed in anger. "The anonymous requests are very insistent that I come, so like it or not, I am here." Erik stated like it was the most obvious thing in the whole wide world.

Charles glanced at him, then looked away, and grumbled, but he wasn't upset that this Erik was here, he just wasn't expecting company. Erik, realizing this matter, sighed and picked up a booze bottle lying around on the table. It still has liquor it in, so he opened the bottle and took a sip of the bitter liquor.

Charles, despite himself, was still holding the helmet Erik has given him against his chest; the metal was cold, and he was careful not to cut himself on its sharp  edges. He didn't know why he was still holding onto it, or why he hasn't knocked it against the wall for reminding him of his former best friend. He just... Felt comfort of some sort from it.

Charles's eyes flutter as he stifled a yawn from falling from his lips. He didn't need pity and concern at this moment, not from Erik. Beside him, he heard the man chuckle. With a bit of annoyance, he turned to look at Erik. His head was tilted to the side a bit, and was clearly already looking at him.

"What?" Charles asked, his annoyance slightly tangling in the words he spoke.

Erik shook his head; there wasn't a hint of a smile yet he sounded thoroughly entertained. "Oh, it's nothing." He said, as if Charles would just drop it.

Charles, for some reason, smiled as very bit of annoyance left his being. It was a small one, not completely evident, but it was there. It was genuine, as genuine as it could get after all these miserable years. "No no come on- what?" He said, turning fully to look at him.

Erik sighed again, but clearly there was a hint of another amused chuckle. Oh, this man was insufferable. "It really is nothing. Though from the right angle, you look like a Komondor." There it was, another insufferably familiar, friendly, comforting chuckle.

It took Charles a couple of seconds to register what Erik said, to realize that a Komondor was a breed of dog. It dawned on him at that moment, and he stayed silent before, with mock offense, feigning his hand against his chest.

"Woww! I'm so hurt!" Charles said sarcastically, his brows furrowed but he was unable to contain the smile that broke through his facade. It was bright, perhaps the brightest he's smiled in years.

Erik exhaled from his nose - probably another sigh - and turned to counter his friend's statement. "If you're so hurt, why are you smiling then?" He didn't realize it, but he himself was smiling as well; Charles didn't seem to have noticed.

Charles chuckled - although it could be described as a giggle - as Erik retorted with that question. "Smiling through the pain, I suppose!" This was sort of a banter, but it has been true for a while before. He has smiled through the pain of knowing he'll never be able to walk again, the pain of knowing Raven and almost everyone left him behind. He was still glad Hank was there to support him through the hard times, but the comfort wasn't enough.

"Oh really?" Said Erik. He still holding the booze in his hand and took a couple gulps of it. The bitter tanginess of the liquid burned down his throat, but they were both used to it by now.

Charles was still smiling, huffing a chuckle. Erik was still drinking the booze; it's been a while since they shared a drink with each other, not after what happened a few years prior. "I hope you enjoy that. That's very expensive," Charles remarked on the bottle, taking another sip of his own bottle.

In all honesty, it wasn't that expensive, it didn't taste expensive. But, there were lots of it when he found it hiding in the cabinets, so it was expensive to buy all of those bottles; they themselves weren't.

"Really? I thought the rule of thumb for getting drunk was to always buy the cheap stuff?" Erik said with a tone of amusement, inspecting the bottle in the dim sunlight, trying to see if he could find the price tag of the thing. There wasn't any.

"Well.. When you're a billionaire and can buy whatever you want, you can splurge." Charles said with a sense of pride he lacked since ever. It was kind of nice to be able to boast his wealth, even if the person hearing this was Erik from another universe, and it made it a little difficult because he hasn't fully forgiven his own Erik.

"Then how do you still have that much money? Is the government in your pocket?" Erik asked, his interest piqued by the word "billionaire".

Charles smiled again, and there was a familiar yet distant warmth in his heart, like someone he once knew returned from a war he was never fully aware of. Perhaps hanging out with this Erik wasn't so bad after all, he has redeeming qualities Charles believed his Erik didn't have; he also smiled more often, and tried his best to make things casual and interesting. He smiled wider, not only because of the sense of pride, but also of comfort.

"It's generational wealth.. And smart investments." With pride, he answered with a pause, just to make it intriguing. Erik raised his eyebrows a little and nodded. He seemed relax, and though he didn't like to admit it, he rather prefer this version of Erik over his own original one. It'd be a fine world if Erik was always like this; always so comforting, humouring and providing good company.

"Oh yes, like booze is a smart investment." Erik said, his smile dropping as he looks down at the bottle in his hand.

It was dry of the content it once held; the sunlight bounced off the glass and reflected itself on the opposite wall. He didn't like Charles like this: all depressed and burnt out, no inspiration or motivation for doing anything. It hurts him knowing why Charles chose this life, why he wanted to be alone all the time; this was not his Charles, yet he felt like he should be there if he ever needed anything.

"Alcohol is not going to bankrupt me," said Charles as he nudged Erik by the arm. It was a joke, though clearly alcohol is not enough to put him into bankruptcy.

Erik chuckled, low and relaxed, as he put the empty bottle down on the table with a quiet *clink*; the sound echoed through the entire Mansion, awakening any bugs or critters from their slumber. Luckily, they did not disturb the two men. "It would be absolutely be if you keep at it like you do."

Well, it would make sense - buying a lot of the same thing with the same price might empty your wallet in no time at all. "So what you're saying is, if I switch to the cheap stuff, I could buy more of it for the same price?" He asked, though of course he knew this, but he never considered doing so.

"More or less," Erik said, shrugging a bit.

This Erik was much more entertaining than his own, Charles decided - he talked more, is more amusing and made him feel better about himself. Huh... This was another new discovery about himself.

Charles smiled and chuckled, his smile genuine and bright. "Duly noted. Next time I'll buy 3x the cheaper stuff." He leaned his head on Erik's shoulder, still holding the helmet close to himself.

Erik smiled softly, and looking down at Charles, he wrapped his arm around him, settling his hand on Charles's forearm. The contact was welcomed and Erik enjoyed it. How long has it been since the last time each of them hell another person close? They wouldn't know, and they wouldn't care - they have each other.

Charles's eyes drifted shut, though not asleep but simply out of contentment, as Erik settled his head on top, his hair ruffled under the other man's head, making it messy. But who cared? Definitely not Charles, couldn't even remember the last time he made his hair look presentable.

The room was quiet, and for a moment, it was only the two of them in the whole wide world. Their surroundings revolved around them, and soon they seemingly disappeared, leaving a comforting, empty, vast void for them to settle in. Oh how the world could just be like this forever...

"Never knew you could be so gentle Erik.." Charles murmured absentmindedly, further relaxing his muscles. He felt safe.

"Hm? What was that?" Erik said at Charles's sudden remark. His Charles hasn't said anything so flattering in so long, and after hearing it from another version of the same man, he couldn't help but feel a fluttering in his stomach.

Charles looked up at Erik and made eye contact that held for a solid minute. He wasn't focusing on Erik's sentence, too immersed in the silent comfort he was receiving and letting himself receive it.

"Hm..?"

"You said something. What was it?" Erik asked, his voice sounding a bit interrogative, but was still soft as not to cause any sudden surge of negative feelings.

"I don't remember.." That was kind of strange. Charles didn't remember saying anything, but it seemed he did. However, there was no memory of it in his mind.

Erik nodded, muttering a loud enough "I see" for Charles to catch it. That was a terrible turn, Charles thought. If his memory hadn't shorted out on him, Erik wouldn't be so concerned. He shouldn't have to worry for Charles, he shouldn't even be helping Charles carry his own burdens.

"Apologies.. that doesn't happen to me often." Charles said with a sad, apologetic tone. Erik could be upset at him at this moment, but he didn't feel any signs of the man moving away from the contact.

"It's quite alright. It happens to everyone." Erik said it so casually Charles might fall out of his chair if he wasn't so afraid of splitting his skull in half.

Charles wasn't focusing, too absorbed in his own self-loathing that he didn't realize the gentle kiss places on his forehead by the soft lips of Erik. Erik, on the other hand, was mildly embarrassed, so he raised his head and straightened himself to avoid making eye contact with Charles.

In the corner of his eye, the former telepathic's pale features began to turn red. Charles tried to hide this obvious display by lowering his head and massaging his palms. Despite his efforts, he couldn't hide the fact that his ears were glowing a brilliant dark red; it certainly complimented his pale skin.

"Are you alright?" Erik asked, and although he was looking at Charles directly, he was glancing down at his flustered host.

Charles nodded feverishly, determined to hide his emotions. This was the first time in over two years Charles had actually wished for his telepathy abilities back. To know what Erik was thinking, to pulse comforting waves over to his mind. Charles wanted to spoil Erik rotten with all the dopamine and serotonin he could handle.

Instead, returning to the terrible reality, Charles gave up his mutation and that was the correct decision for everyone involved, Charles had convinced himself that it was for the longest time possible.

Charles was able to snap out of his thoughts when he heard Erik blurting out the words "I see" once more. He hadn't realized that Erik had picked up another booze bottle, but he was now gently placing it back down. Calming his racing mind, Charles retorted: "See what?" He kept his voice calm and and leveled as he recuperated from his sudden pang of memory.

"That you were alright when I asked." Erik replied, and Charles noticed his voice has become softer, more gentle and surprisingly attra- wait no.

"I bet that's not all you see.. You are a very observant man, Erik." Charles smiled as his giggle intertwined with his words, making them feel light-hearted and playful.

"You're not wrong," Erik said as if he took what Charles said as a compliment - it really was sort of something like that - but then he smiled, and there was an edge of mischievousness in it. "I also observed the fact that you look like a strawberry." The man spoke with a low chuckle.

Charles perked up at the statement and buried his head into his hands, silently hoping that Erik didn't notice two of his fingers coming up to massage his temples before sliding forward to focus on his eyes. Charles was pretty sure Erik couldn't see all of that in the dark, not to mention his hair covering his face as he leaned down. "Ya don't say.." Charles said with embarrassment. Gosh, how much more humiliation was he going to deal with today?

Erik mumbled a amused "Yeah" as he brought his hand to ruffle Charles's hair, then moving it around Charles and onto his lap, resting on it. Erik leaned in a bit, a genuine smile making its way to his lips as he observed Charles's reaction.

Charles looked up at Erik and settled comfortably into his lap with a quiet and content sigh. Erik let out a breath like he has been holding it in, hoping that Charles wouldn't refuse his affection. Charles leaned his head against Erik's chest, eyes fluttering with tiredness.

"You're tall..." He muttered. Yes, Erik was and is still taller than him; Charles has never very insecure about his height or appearance, until now, he realized.

"Really? I suppose you aren't wrong." Erik replied softly, staying almost perfectly still as he soakee in the comfort and contact both of them was sharing.

Charles ran his hand over the smooth top of the helmet, letting another yawn fall from his lips. Erik's smile has never really dropped the entire time. It was certain that both of them has forgotten how this feeling felt like, and they seemed to share a mutual longing for it.

At first, Charles didn't notice Erik's thoughts weaving themselves into his mind. Everything felt so familiar, and oh so comfortable. That was until other minds start swarming in, disrupting what little peace this cruel world had allowed him. Panicking as adrenaline surged through him, Charles began to realize the situation he's caught himself in. He pat his robe's pockets hoping to find an extra dose of serum; he wasn't going to let this peace escape when he had a good grasp on it. He wasn't going to let it go just because the world was such a bitch about it. He longed for this, he wanted this, he needed this, goddamn it!

Erik, seeing the sudden harsh movements beside him, he suddenly realized the situation Charles was in. And as if he could read his mind, he took the helmet resting idly on Charles's lap and gently placed it over his head to silence the voices so Charles could properly focus on what he wanted to find.

This gave Charles a pause in his search for the serum; all the voices and racing thoughts just suddenly... Stopped, altogether. Charles was so accustomed to being quickly reduced to a incoherent mess as every voice in New York made themselves known to him, it made this feeling strange, and so, so unnatural. To still have everything so quiet and almost clear as the serum burned out of his system, it felt serene.

"Are you alright?" Erik said leaning down to observe his friend's reaction. His voice had a hint of concern, his brows furrowed and expression softened. Charles seemed to still be processing all of this; as he moved his hand to the helmet, his eyes became glossy as his mind cleared itself for the first time in years. For years, the serum made everything blurry and murky, rendering him unable to think properly. But, it helped stop the thousands of minds from cramming their way into his skull and cracking it in half.

However, the serum wasn't in affect anymore, and his mind wasn't foggy or was it about to explode. He could think, and think clearly. "I can think.." Charles murmured; it was unbelievable that he had been living year after year in murky waters without finding a way to free himself of his misery, of his self-loathing, of his mind.

Beside him, Erik cracked a gentle smile as the concern left his expression. "Yes, I suppose you can. It's alright now Charles, just think for a minute." Erik's voice was low and soothing, and a lot softer than usual. It brought comfort and peace to Charles knowing that this version of Erik was the man he had always thought he was: Kind, gentle, understanding and forgiving.

As Charles spaced out and did what Erik requested, his mind started to catch up on all the thought he could've had the lady few years. His mind whirled with spontaneous new genetic theories, context of the books he read nearly four years ago, mutant genealogy and myriad of other thoughts. Charles was almost, but certainly, enjoying the sudden burst of radiant brilliance. Although enjoying himself, it was like his body has a mind of its own as his hand found the cold metal of the serum in his pocket.

Erik's smile dropped as his eyes caught sight of his companion's hand, sadness washing over his expression. What coming next was quite obvious, and though Erik had the power to stop it from happening, it was best if Charles stop it himself. Erik didn't want to force his concern into Charles - his friend, his host, his partner - all because Charles didn't have the power and right mind help himself.

Just as clear as the thought had been on genetic mutation, the berating may seemed even clearer as Charles realized what he was holding, clutching in his pocket. The thoughts of famous authors and poets faded out as the self hatred and loathing filtered into his clear mind.

Charles's hands grew shaky, his breathing became uneven and ragged as he prepared his arm, rolling up the cotton sleeve of his robe. Charles couldn't even blame it on anyone else, not even the man beside him. He was the only mind, the only thoughts running inside his head. The only mind that abused him for disregarding his mutant gift and his natural brilliance. The mind that made him feel miserable, helpless and worthless.

Charles didn't notice the tears that started streaming down his red cheeks, or how badly shaken his body was as he held up the syringe to his arm. Yes, it was true that Charles took the serum to keep everyone out of his mind, but it was also to keep himself out; it was to keep himself dissociated from his internal critic that was harsher than anyone else's, the worst insults that no one could ever think of, the worst hatred and loathing no one could ever develope.

Charles hadn't noticed that he has already injected the serum, his mind going numb and murky once more. The tears still streamed down his face, droplets coming down to rest on his lap. Erik sighed and tossed the empty syringe away once the business was done. At once, Erik pulled Charles into a gentle embrace, keeping his hand on Charles's head and soothing him by rubbing small circles on his back.

It was all too much at that moment, there was no escape, so as the only reasonable option left on the table for him, Charles cried into Erik's shoulder. The serum slowed everything in his mind, his own thoughts were garbled, barely legible as the side effects kicked in. Charles didn't stop, he couldn't stop; broken sobs and hiccups broke from his throat, allowing him to let out the anger, sadness, hatred he'd kept to himself out

"It's alright, Charles, you're alright." Erik's tone was soft and almost quiet, as if to soothe a child.

As the worst of it kicked it, Charles laid on Erik's shoulder, his tears soaked the fabric of the other man's shirt. He would be fine soon enough, but the first part of the serum always gave him such minimal brain activity, silencing and numbing it. Not that Charles ever gave mind to it, it was something normal by now.

Erik still tried his best to calm his friend, still speaking with that calm and smooth voice, low enough to be a whisper, but loud enough for Charles to hear. "I am mad, but I'm not going to yell at you this time. Yet, you can't keep silencing the negative as if they shouldn't exist. They do exist, and you have to face them, but you shouldn't be alone when you do it."

Erik's eyes were closed, he wouldn't know exactly what kind of hurtful expression was going through Charles's face, but that was quite alright. Erik buried half of his face into that messy hair of his as he continued to attempt to calm Charles.

Charles made a small noise in the back of his throat, though it seemed like it echoed throughout the ever enveloping silence around them. "'S'not-" Charles voice was hoarse and broken as he sniffed up the snot threatening to stain Erik's attire. "Bad," Charles managed to mutter the last word of his sentence. His grip tightened on the fabric of Erik's clothes though his body continued to try and relax itself.

Erik hummed in question as he pulled away from the embrace. Doing so, he reached his hands up to cup Charles's tear stained face, wiping away the new flood as it poured from his soul. "Charles?" Erik asked again. Charles was not entirely mentally in the moment, spacing out a bit as he grew accustomed to the surge of the serum through his veins.

"Sorry.." Charles muttered, "serum.. side effect.. give it a couple minutes." Charles didn't have to attempt to wipe the tears away as Erik was already at it, so Charles leaned into the touch, closing his swollen eyes as he let out a quiet and uneven sigh.

Erik sighed in a tone that spoke lengths of disappointment and anger, yet when he chose to speak, his voice was low and calm, just like before. "Why do you still do it? Why don't you seek help?" Erik's voice had a hint of desperation, not an angry one, but a sad and upsetting one. "Why do you choose to temporarily numb it? At the end of it all, it will eat you until you let it go. So why not let it go with me? Let all the negative out so the comfort can rest.

"Scream and shout it out if you truly need to, and I will sit and listen if you need it. You can only temporarily numb something for so long."

Charles rubbed at his eyes; it felt dry from the previous tears, his vision blurry and his breath shallow. "What would I even say?" Charles smiled, but a sad one, one that spoke of being so used to years of self-torment that at this moment, insulting himself would just be fine. "Besides.. the negative feels good.. comfortable.. safe, almost." Charles chuckled low, but his throat was dry like a desert land, and the tears were threatening to stream once more.

"Anything at all." Erik said helpfully, keeping his hands cupped around Charles's face as he relaxed into the touch. "Also, saying the negative is nice is a lie they use, so it's never handled." Erik stated, brows furrowing and tone hurt.

"It isn't really safe to begin with, to keep collecting and holding. Everything will break, and that is not safe for anyone, not you, not people who get close. So say anything and everything, just so it's out, so it stops building."

They stopped talking after that short moment of comfort. Charles was bone tired, so instead of retorting with some half-assed excuse for the lies he made himself believe, he settled against Erik's chest, holding him close as he soaked in the warmth of a companion's comfort.

[gamethecry]

guess its a bad time to follow up with happy birthday matthew...?

[dizzybizz]

some doodles

[skippingthroughfields]

one thing that's missing from these convos about amc not submitting assad zaman for a golden globes nom that makes it 10x more malicious on amc's part is that a nomination isn't just like oh... ~simple appreciation for an actor's performance. even if there's no win, it results in a profile boost for these actors & them being able to command a higher salary when it comes to future projects. it's something that gets notice on their CV. these studios and networks love being able to market their shit with things like "starring golden globe nominee john doe" or "emmy winner jane doe." the emmys are more prestigious than the golden globes which are more prestigious than the critics choice awards (the one they submitted him for with two other actors lol). actors get nominated and have the opportunity to get attention from social media posts, article mentions, attending the red carpet, having their name announced and a little clip of their acting shown. that's not nothing! attention from possible new fans, publications, execs, peers, producers, directors, fashion houses & other industries which could lead to $$$ and sponsorships. I won't make any presumptions about the cast's finances but I do know amc is probably not paying them their worth, least of all the bangladeshi muslim who barely had any major roles in tv/film prior to the show.

there are fees and costs associated with submitting for awards consideration and FYC ads. the network basically took a look at assad's brown skin and name and said they don't think he's worth the money over the white actor who had less screentime and narrative importance (to the season ig) which is absolutely crazy lmao. it shouldn't be controversial to say that and you can't not discuss this without bringing up sam's name. this has nothing to do with whether he "deserved" to be submitted (and even if I said he doesn't deserve it over assad who's gonna beat my ass?). this white man isn't being persecuted by conversations about blatant racism. but I'd expect nothing less from this fanbase x.

[autisticrosewilson]

So do you guys actually think that Jason's entire story, relationship to the others, and philosophy amounts to him being a rebellious teen who wants his dad's attention? Like are you 100% serious? I thought you were joking about that but too many of you are saying it with your whole chest.

And what the fuck is this "Bruce antagonizing Jason is fanon!" Shit I've been seeing? You guys are aware that a parent can love their kid and still be a shit parent right? I know you guys don't want to fathom the thought that maybe your blorbo might also occasionally have to face responsibility for consistently endangering children but let's not start being delusional now.

Bruce does love his kids, that doesn't mean that he hasn't hurt them. And I'd also argue that for the most part he feels in the right for it, and he's said multiple times that he believes it's for their own good, so you can't even argue that he's sorry about it. It's okay for you guys to admit that your PERSONAL INTERPRETATION of the character wouldn't do that but don't sit here and pretend that it's not a facet of the source.

[sacchiri]

Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.

Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen

A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death

[stairset]

I think the portrayal of Spider-Man 2099 in Across the Spider-Verse is in-character in that aside from like Shattered Dimensions he's always been portrayed as a bit of an asshole who slips into anti-hero territory at times and generally has a "needs of the many over the needs of the few" mindset and given his specific circumstances in the movie it's not unreasonable to think he could take the actions he does. However it does kinda suck that since like 99% of moviegoers had no idea who he was before the movie came out their first impression of him is when he's in an antagonistic role and people think "antagonist" and "villain" are synonyms so now I'm gonna have to listen to people who've never read a comic saying he's a villain or isn't a real Spider-Man for the rest of time or at least until he inevitably changes his mind in the third one.