#like if it means a lot to somebody i care about it would cost nothing to indulge them and be nice about it

[valodia]

Real thing somebody said IRL today "the christmas tree in itself is from pagan culture so it doesnt count as religious"

[supremefloof]

episode 6 thoughts: DANG

Shang Chao is one of the characters of all time. spoilers below! this post is also very long.

THESE DANG ENERGY DRINKS ARE IMPORTANT! This shot is symbolic of something!

these could be "Electro Energy" brand drinks (the brand mentioned later to show how Yang Cheng E-soul is costing money for Mighty Glory).

Is that a "no. 8" or a "no. 0"? 8 would make sense but there's problems with that, those being -> 1. is E-soul still rank number eight here? and 2.:

the trailer shows that this drink belongs to X, with the character presumably meaning 1,0, or some really sadistic way of writing X. (secret, even more sadistic evil third thing is that that's like, a three or something and the timeline is fucked). the drink NEXT to it belongs to E-soul (maybe those are electro energy). So, maybe this drink means that E-soul is X in Year 36. ofc, we have no idea what time this trailer takes place.

it looks like this stupid extremely hard to read borderline secret code font (/hj) is going to be a frequent occurrence! hopefully somebody with more dedication than me can decode it fully at some point.

background ads continue to be very intriguing. where exactly does this take place? we got "langley & co booksellers", "malibu surf shop", alongside chinese signs. probably a lot are just easter eggs but very fun!

In the interrogation room, I really interpreted YC's animated flashback sequence as a panic attack.

he's stuck on two ends from "nothing" to "way too much". He doesn't feel he belongs on either, and yet he's self-internalized a bunch of stuff at the same time. he's like lin ling on trauma steroids.

I like Xia Qing (i think thats her name?) better than I thought I would. girl knows what she wants and drops hints! she's also the most normal well adjusted person I've seen in this entire show.

i really, genuinely for the love of god hope those criminals weren't telling the truth about YC hiring them. If time travel theory is real I'm flipping a table. I dislike time travel theory but I can't put my finger on why.

SHANG CHAO IS SO SUSPICIOUS. even including what happens to him he shows up at exactly the right time with exactly the right stuff. He's weirdly super invested. I don't think he's evil but I think we are going to see his motivations/backstory in the next episode (and yes. singular next e-soul episode). we still don't know why Pomelo/you zi was kidnapped!!

Some guesses are that he really wants to differentiate himself from his dad, which is why he jumps at the chance to market Yang Cheng.

or yk. he's gay. who knows

OG E-Soul. first of all, YEESH he just trains shirtless covered in scars and doesn't wear anything under the suit 😭interestingly, he wears a mask all the time but doesn't care about his agent/manager/General Business Blonde Guy seeing him train shirtless and armless.

blonde dude got some nerve talking to this guy like that when he's one-arming like 200 pounds in front of him 💀

he seems unconcerned with whether people trust New E-soul, because nobody could mistake the two. this really lines up with the idea that he's old as Dirt and did some insane feat.

However, Mighty Glory doesn't see it that way because it's about money. TBHX absolutely is providing commentary on capitalism and the commercialization of heroes. (ie. an old symbol of institution brought down by the new age and adapted into something else that matches the ideas of the time) The contrast of a living legend like E-soul and his relationship with Mighty Glory + the media made me feel like Mighty Glory built itself around him with dubious implications for his opinions on the matter.

E-Soul hasn't fought people in a while! so my theory that he's retired is right so far.

ENLIGHTER!!!!! this felt like a crossover cameo but logically the episodes are only a few years apart. Enlighter seems like a big deal here though! Did he used to be higher ranked a few years ago and fell off in Lin Ling's era? ...why did he snap. that's not going to be important is it. brainrot brainrot

TBHX is also for sure highlighting how the transition into the digital age is effecting the Trust System, saying how E-soul had to do so much more work than YC. I wonder how the nuances of the Trust system were different before the spread of the internet. TBHX is a modern show, set in modern times and made to be extremely relevant to current world issues!

our running ideas about Trust seem spot-on so far. YC is getting a fraction of E-souls power. meaning E-Soul is really, really powerful! even though he's not doing anything right now.

SURVIVORS GUILT, PT 2. the similarities between the traumatic events of Yang Cheng's childhood to now are insane. holy shit poor guy

is someone gonna get dramatically shot every episode????? why??? at least Moon is not unique in this regard. hide your side characters nobody is safe 😭

twenty tumblr notes on this shot being wayyy too significant for my emotional health

I DON'T TRUST THE TIMELINE. I DON'T TRUST THE TIMELINE. E-SOUL PV IS SO INSANELY STRANGE.

[vashtijoy]

something i think about literally all the time is how goro's powers with loki are literally the opposite of what the phantom thieves do. the phantom thieves free people from their distorted desires. call of chaos either gives people the freedom to or forces them, depending on your perspective, into giving in to their distorted desires. he's such a good foil to them it makes me insane.

and by nature of what he's doing, it provides him yet another rationalization for what he's doing, because well, they *wanted* to do this anyway. these people already desired to hurt people, goro just gave them a little push. he's not making people do anything they didn't already want to do on some level. the fact that people have these desires in the first place proves the corruption of people and of society.

but the truth is that he is, just like the thieves are, brainwashing people to his own ends. he's doing the same thing they are but from the opposite direction. he's creating chaos by revealing the worst parts of society by forcing the dark underbelly to the surface, and he doesn't care because every time it works it proves him right that society is beyond saving. people don't deserve anything other than the chaos he creates.

Yesss. All of this. *armwaves* Oh, Akechi, my dude, my guy....

... you little hypocrite, lmfao.

Akechi 第一、人の心を無理やりねじ曲げるなんて、人間が一番やっちゃいけない事ですよ。 dai-ichi, hito no kokoro o muriyari nejimageru nante, ningen ga ichiban yaccha ikenai koto desu yo More importantly, you should never forcefully change a person's heart. [lit. Most of all, a thing like twisting somebody's heart out of shape by force - that's the thing that most of all, a person should never do.] Most importantly, twisting someone's heart out of shape to suit yourself is the worst thing you can do.

ねじ曲げる nejimageru suggests twisting something hard out of shape, like a pretzel is twisted. It's another word that can translate as "distorted", though it's not the yuganda of "distorted desires". And Akechi is emphatic—he says dai-ichi... ichiban yaccha ikenai koto: "most of all... that's the one thing you should never do".

But nothing he says here is in terms like "change of heart" that the PTs would recognise. Instead, Akechi is describing a violent assault, in terms that perhaps clarify a bit more of Ryuji's hostility.

He is, in fact, describing exactly what he, himself, does.

but in the third semester

Akechi: And you assume we'll buy into your brainwashing and just live in the palm of your hand? Akechi: Honestly, that sounds absolutely revolting.

Akechi obviously believes what he's saying in the third semester; his whole arc centres on it. Again, it's that freedom to be who you are, no matter the cost; to choose for yourself, without anyone twisting you out of shape, forcing you to act a certain way.

It's this parallel to the third semester that suggests Akechi means what he says on 6/10—that his objections to the PTs are real. Remember, he does tend not to lie outright—he prefers to find some way to use the truth. Which leaves us with a number of possibilities regarding how he rationalises that one:

he has other objections, such as the risk to his plan, the risk to the Metaverse, or the Metaverse belonging to him alone. For sure.

he doesn't care about his victims. Almost certainly.

he views it as something you should never do, and does it anyway. Almost certainly.

he views his victims (and anyone else affected) as deserving what they get. Likely.

he views Call of Chaos not as an attack, but as a liberation or a gift, as him just giving them what they want. At some level, IMO.

he views it as unfortunate but necessary collateral damage. Probably in the middle somewhere, but IMO not at the start, and not at this point.

"you should never do this to anybody" means, specifically, you should never do this to me—and probably not to Shido, either. Definitely IMO.

and lots more exciting, varied possibilities!

conclusions??

Call of Chaos really is so fascinating, in the way it's described as an unchaining, as being out of control; in the way it suggests Akechi may have started out thinking he was the only one without these repressed desires. Because no shadow, right?

Later on, I think he knows a bit better, and is probably a bit spooked at the idea of what the PTs could do to him. But he still views those distorted desires the PTs arbitrarily dispose of as inherent to who someone is: someone's right to choose badly is a core part of their right to choose at all.

He's probably not exactly wrong. It's just that actions have consequences. Or they ought to.

[greekbros]

(on the topic of the new Nolan version of The Odyssey I would just like to say this....)

(if I ever hear somebody state that "well they're making a movie about the thing you like stop complaining about every detail that not every single person would know"...)

(.... I'm going to respond back to them saying "it literally costs nothing to to ask a specialist and it doesn't cost a lot to hire a historian who's literal job is to study this topic")

(I understand that throughout the years of Hollywood and their silly bs, they have decided to go for the more theatrical and dramatic versions of historical events rather than actually take the time to make something historically accurate.)

(the unfortunate nature of ancient history is that basically people like the dramatization and the myth about it rather than actually appreciate it for what it really is perceived as)

(in an era where AI compilations are now taking over, literally feeding off of these very misconceptions and false perspectives that the public already had prior to the invention of ai, people are proselytizing the assumption that AI knows exactly what it's doing.... Why am I mentioning AI? Because I literally just heard somebody close to me basically say "with ai, who needs historians if the AI can just figure out exactly what happened".... This statement is one of the most ignorant f****** statements I've ever heard in my entire life and it makes me angry that it came from somebody close to me)

(my point is this, we have enough studies and evidence to provide an entertaining and accurate depiction of a historical period. There is literally nothing wrong with it, people are not going to make fun of it, people are just going to watch the movie and be impressed. I don't know if Hollywood has this weird perception that if you make something historically accurate people are just going to not watch it... If that is the case, then that just means Americans just like the most ignorant or inaccurate thing possible. Out of choice which is something I don't think is possible and I don't want to believe it. Because that would imply that the populace knows exactly what is accurate and just choose something inaccurate on purpose)

(the fact that they're pulling a 'Troy' move is also kind of concerning. Because what Christopher Nolan is attempting to do is almost make a pseudo sequel to Troy.... Which is probably not a smart thing considering a lot of people don't really care about that film regardless of how popular it was.

(with that being said, the historical community has spoken, Christopher Nolan has no idea what he's doing and he's already pissed off an enormous viewership that would have been extremely useful to help the movie.)

(it's a real shame because edutainment is a real problem and pop culture and people seem to have a real adversion to being given accurate information... I don't know if it's willful ignorance or it's just extremely hard to change the perception of people with something new... Which I doubt because every single time I see a new crappier marvel or Disney film, people seem to really enjoy terrible changes. Which begs the question, why is it that people are more willing to watch on Amazon brand crested Hoplite helmet on screen rather than a boar's tooth helmet? Although the hoplite helmet is a fun and dramatic piece of armor that everyone is familiar with, The boar's tooth helmet is the accurate piece. I personally think Hollywood tries their best to avoid accuracy because they're cheap about it.)

(with that being said, I'm genuinely disappointed that we are getting a resurgence of Greek mythology media but it's done so inaccurate that it actually puts me off of it so badly. Looks like I'm sticking to the classics)

[tenebris-lux]

Exploring “Coming forth an angel instead of a fiend.”

Thinking about Jekyll’s potion and how it can pull out your evil OR good side depending on your state of mind at the time of taking it.

The book showed the freedom of giving the evil free reign and how much of a high one could get from that. In chasing that high, things escalated until Hyde started self-destructing.

I was wondering for a while if someone took the potion enough times and their “better side” came forth, would it be safer or would it come to the same conclusion? Since the whole thing is kind of a metaphor for addiction and substance abuse, I concluded that yes, too much of a “good” thing can be bad.

As an example, Jekyll/Hyde was pretty selfish; self-indulgence, self-gratification, sometimes (probably often) at the cost of someone else’s good fortune. Now, there’s nothing actually evil about being selfish; selfishness generally helps a person take care of themself and their surroundings, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But that’s beside the point. For the moment, I just want to say that “Hyde is evil and selfish.” So, in looking at a possible “good side” example, I was thinking about altruism—doing something for the benefit of someone else without regard to one’s self. It is entirely possible to give so much of yourself to other people’s benefit that you neglect your own needs—donating too much money to a good cause that it leaves you in financial difficulty is an idea. Canceling your plans to help out somebody else and doing that too many times can be detrimental to the self. These are nice things to do for people every so often, but they can become a problem if done too much.

It’s not as common as self-indulgence getting out of hand, but it still happens to people. And since Jekyll & Hyde has an addiction thing in the background … well, it can feel good to do nice things for people, of making oneself a “better person”. There’s less of a need to “hide” being that good or kind a person, because people approve of it, but the problem is that someone like that can get taken advantage of by others. And we’re talking good and evil in their “pure forms”, as Jekyll put it. Becoming the better person can do amazing things for one’s character, but that doesn’t always make it healthy. Sometimes it hurts to say “no” to someone who needs help, but you do it anyway because you HAVE to take care of yourself; it’s important. That’s part of where selfishness isn’t necessarily evil, just part of preservation. But it still feels bad in that kind of situation.

Now imagine if you were under the influence of letting that “good side” have free reign. You do several kind and helpful things for people. It spreads a lot of positive feeling and it feels good. Then you go back to yourself, the “composite” that makes up every human being. You remember how good it felt before, but now you have a part of you that wants to take time for yourself. But what if you’re needed? What if you’re depriving somebody? Is it fair to indulge yourself when someone else needs help and you have the power to do it? Guilt creeps in, and you take the potion again. Eventually it goes from feeling good from the actions to staving off guilt of inaction.

Just to return to the thing I said earlier about selfishness =/= evil, selflessness isn’t necessarily good either. Sometimes acts of spite can be detrimental to oneself if it means someone else gets hurt. Then you also have people who sacrifice themselves for a cause—usually they believe it to be the right cause or best cause, but those situations are relative to everyone involved, and sometimes those causes that someone thinks is worth sacrificing themselves for can be to many people’s detriment. My point here is that good/evil are subjective and are never “one is this way, the other is that way.” It goes off on a tangent, but that’s where I struggle a bit with Jekyll saying that Hyde is “pure evil”, because that could mean different things to different people. So my above example is just one possibility of “pure good;” it might not make sense to everybody as an example, but it does to me.

… so yeah, this is some of what I’ve been thinking about ever since I made this post. Thanks for listening to me ramble! Hope you don’t think I’m too weird. 😅

[blazehedgehog]

Sir BlazeHedgehog, where is your nickname from?

Oh wow, somebody actually asked for once instead of me having to volunteer it.

This is probably at least the third time I've said this just on this blog alone, but since tumblr search is worthless, we'll take it from the top one more time, but I'll hide it behind a "read more" tag for those who would rather skip it.

And because I'm going to be hiding it behind a tag, I'm going to go all in and tell a story.

The short answer is I made it up.

I am from a time before the internet was everywhere, on everything. In the 5th or 6th grade, our computer lab teacher introduced us to the world wide web using the suite of Apple Macintoshes they had available.

And when I say "Macintosh" I mean the original. Black and white screens, Hypercard, the whole deal from 1984. Keeping in mind it was currently 1995.

About 25-30 of these little guys split in to two rows. In the middle of the classroom sat a lone Macintosh Performa. Good kids got to use the Performa.

The Performa was the only computer that was capable to render what we would begin to know as the modern internet. It had Netscape Navigator installed, which supported the somewhat-new technology of webpages with embedded images.

For the rest of us, we were introduced to the text-based internet. You would bring up a terminal application and have to type out commands to interface with the school's webserver in order to check things like email (using PINE). You browsed the internet using Lynx. There was no mouse, no clicking. You scrolled using the arrow keys and could highlight links with tab.

They taught us other terminal commands, like how to open a direct text chat with another student in the lab, some basic formatting and typing stuff, etc. It was slow, difficult to use, and the internet was a lot smaller back then. We had somewhat strict rules on what we could and could not do on these machines, but since they couldn't do much, it wasn't hard to enforce.

In high school, half of the lab was a mixture of older 5200 Performas and newer 6600 "Pizza Box" Performas, with the other half being more left over monochrome Macintoshes. They also had "the one really nice computer" but this one was a modern (by 1997 standards) Power Mac G3. New tech came newer rules: no installing games, no adult content (even soft stuff, like girls in bikinis), and no chat rooms.

We were teenagers, though. You tell us not to do something, and that immediately makes you want to do it. I remember catching some of the particularly geeky among us logging in and playing online MUDs (the precursor to MMOs), and others trying to get around the Foolproof Software locks to install games or look at porn.

(This is a newer photo of that same computer lab, and I'm unsurprised that, outside of kids being on more modern hardware, absolutely nothing about the setup of that room has changed.)

I wasn't really in my spiral of depression yet, so I used the computers like a good little boy and followed the rules.

Until the last few days of the semester before summer break. That's when everybody -- students, teachers -- collectively stop caring about keeping up proper appearances. I remember having big free periods and spending time in the computer lab. I was usually the only one in there. So, immediately, I began looking up chat rooms.

A few friends and I had gotten into deep trouble a few months earlier, because one wild night during a sleepover we called into a "party line", which was a service where you were hooked into what is now known as a "discord group chat." Except you didn't know who you were getting connected with. They were total strangers. That was part of the thrill. It was new and exciting. We happened to be lucky enough to get a group of girls who were near enough to our age (maybe a little older), and we spent hours talking with them via speakerphone.

The thing was, there was a precedent that doing that cost money. You were calling a 1-800 number, and there were service fees associated with that. Per-minute. So we racked up a bill of something like $70-$100+ that night. That was a big problem.

But internet chat was free. The allure was impossible to ignore. And with it being the last few days of school, who could stop me? At worst I'd be kicked out of the computer lab, but they weren't going to, like, expel me. Being in trouble was a fake idea.

I forget where I ended up the first day, it was some kind of general Yahoo chat or something, but I remember I was too shy to be myself. Being 13 or 14 at the time, I decided to roleplay as Tuxedo Mask from Sailor Moon. One of the only times I ever did anything like that. I was full-on "I send a rose to all the ladies @}---;----" and everything, it was awful.

On the final day, I started looking up Sonic fansites and ended up somewhere called "Ruby's Sonic Page." This was the homepage of Dawn Best, under the handle Ruby the Echidna. It was there she talked about a game I'd never heard of before -- Sonic Adventure -- and provided a link to the announcement trailer in glorious 160p MPEG-1 video. I was blown away. They were making new Sonic games again?

Provided was a link to discuss the game with other Sonic fans, and it lead to Missy's Sonic Chat, a Beseen Chat Room on a website called Xoom (one of the many Geocities clones). Beseen Chats weren't live chatrooms like we'd think of modern-day Discord, or even AIM or IRC. Beseen was much more comparable to Twitter, or Tumblr, in that it was a website where you could post messages and could refresh the feed to see what other people had posted. It was a bit of a hack, but it worked well enough.

The whole thing was broken down in to different frames (if you're too young to know what those are: imagine multiple separate embedded webpages, sectioned off to specific portions of the screen). So you'd have a frame on the left that was a userlist, where people had set names and even large image avatars for themselves. At the bottom you'd have a text entry field with two buttons at the end: Send and Refresh. And then taking up most of the screen real estate was the feed itself. Something sort of like this, I guess:

And a lot of people in this Beseen chat had made up their own, original characters. This was my first introduction to Sonic OCs. And Missy's chat was a veritable who's who extremely talented fanartists. Ruby, Barachan, T2, J. Axer, Rinacat, etc.

I wanted to fit in, so I felt like I needed to come up with "a character" of my own.

Literally the first name to jump to mind was "Blaze the Hedgehog." I didn't like it. It was too obvious. Surely there had to be other Blaze the Hedgehogs out there, right? And I wasn't even particularly attached to "flame" powers.

So I sat there for a few minutes, trying to think of something better. My mind went blank.

Admitting defeat, "Blaze the Hedgehog" it was.

The chat was rather dead, given it was still technically a school day, and once I went home that afternoon, that was the end of my access to the internet. The best we had at home was some sort of Hyundai thing -- amber monochrome monitor, no graphics rendering, no hard disk, basically just a glorified word processor.

That changed once my mom got her tax return a little while later. She invested in a 233mhz Packard Bell desktop computer with Windows 98 and a subscription to America Online.

When prompted to make my own AOL username, I decided to go with "Blazehgehg." BlazeHedgehog. The character I'd made up at school.There it was. For the first time, for real, it was set in stone. And from 1998 to 2023, I've never changed it. Other "Blaze the Hedgehog"s have come and gone, but I've been the constant.

Later that night, I found my way back to Missy's Sonic Chat, and I grabbed one of Axer's Sonic images, sloppily recoloring it in MSPaint. I printed it out for posterity and kept it in a folder with artwork I'd actually drawn.

Blue and green were my favorite colors. Sonic was blue, so Blaze was green. Instead of shoes, he had boots. He wore a leather vest with a black t-shirt on underneath that covered most of his body. And atop his head, a sprout of hair, colored like a flame.

Blaze's only real role as a "character" was in the first and only fanfiction I ever wrote for him; the story was a blend of Final Fantasy VII and an anime I was in love with at the time named "Green Legend Ran." It's better it was lost to time. Besides, I don't think it was ever finished.

Blaze would go through several revisions over the years. More immediately, The Matrix hit the next year, and Blaze was given a trenchcoat. Also, since I could like, actually draw, I decided to stop painting over other people's artwork and draw Blaze for myself.

Eventually, Blaze Hedgehog the character fell out of favor. I grew up. I never really used him for much more than a forum avatar anyway, and even then, I felt like people were judging me for having a Sonic OC. Especially a green hedgehog. There were a dime-a-dozen green hedgehog Sonic OCs floating around.

Once Sega introduced Blaze the Cat in 2005, that sort of became the final nail in the coffin. But by then, I'd been using "BlazeHedgehog" as an online username for seven years. I'd grown attached to it. I didn't want to change it. So... I didn't.

As I've gotten older and put some distance between myself and that time, I find myself a bit nostalgic for the character of Blaze the Hedgehog. I redesigned him a bit a few years ago to look more like a traditional Sega Sonic character, swapping in a bomber jacket and getting rid of the shirt.

And, of course, there was Sonic Forces. Options were limited there, but a brown leather jacket and the weird black bodysuit got closest. I was most surprised by the hairstyle options. While we don't get the classic yellow-to-red, we do get a green-to-red, which is good enough. And I really like these ring-strap boots.

That's about all there is to say, really. These days it's just a username for me, and I keep it so old friends can find me more easily. I'm pretty terrible at keeping up with some people, and I get the feeling I probably come off cold to others when that's never been my intention. But for those who want to keep tabs on me, they know where to find me.

[landofwindandskyscrapers]

50/52 Why I joined Mensa

As soon as I joined Mensa, it felt like a thousand million people went up to me with a couple of stock phrases. “IQ doesn't capture all forms of intelligence you know” “Well, but emotional intelligence is just as important, actually it's more important” This is inaccurate. It only felt this was, it’s not what actually happened (probably). But it was still a very weird thing to go through, even though I kind of anticipated it. And these phrases do have a point (although a smaller one than the people saying them believe, I think). The problem is, IQ is kind of the simplest and most easily accessible way to measure something that is correlated with intelligence (and wealth, height, health, etc.) But it also lays bare the fact that people are unequal; that somebody else will be smarter, prettier and more charismatic than you, and nothing you can do will change that. And that's horrible. But it's also true. The world is unjust. Some people are indeed better at…most everything than others.1 It's unpleasant to be reminded of that, but it doesn't make it any less true. Because even though it’s not a full measure of your worth as a person…it kind of is? In specific, narrow slices of life, but…if you have a low IQ, your life is going to be a lot harder than if it were otherwise.2 I joined Mensa because I was insecure about my intelligence. I, Michael Cahoon, fit well in the archetype of “brilliant, but lazy” at school. But it's hard to think of yourself as smart if you're barely passing your exams. (One of my big regrets is not putting more effort in my studies). Doing the test to get into Mensa was quite stressful and daunting. It took a chunk of courage. But if I’d failed it, it would still have been valuable information; it would’ve meant I had to focus more on other things. And so I chose to take the test. And I decide to not understand people who don’t do things simply because they’re scared or they involve risk. Once you’ve done a cost-benefit analysis, and doing something would benefit you…why hesitate? (said he, even though he’s still human and does hesitate. But also actually does go and do scary things) (related, this might be why I enjoy climbing. Difficult and scary but enjoyable). So I prepared myself to eat a chunk of my self-worth and to change my own self-image. Instead, I passed the test3. And now, whenever I feel like an idiot, whenever I doubt myself…I can point to that, at least in the privacy of my own mind. Sure, it might be a narrow slice of intelligence, sure it has some bad connotations (racism & stuff), sure it’s a faux pas to discuss it…but dammit, I can point at something objective and say: “No. I’m not stupid”. And it did have lots of other benefits! In Mensa, I did find a great community which does interesting events, which was actually quite good for my social life. It’s CV padding. It’s a conversation piece I can trot out every once in a while. I’m very happy I joined! But that's not why I initially joined. Subscribe now 1 Exercise for the reader; if what we consider as love, stripped of emotion and self-delusions, is being caring and paying attention to someone…does that mean that people who have less ability to do that are literally less able to love others? 2 There’s a point to be made here that moral worth and pragmatic worth are not the same thing. Even though…they kind of are? But not really, and that’s what trips so many people up. Beautiful people aren’t better than ugly people, but they will have an easier life and everyone - you included!- is going to treat them better. 3 After being kept on tenterhooks for 3-4 months. I actually emailed the test taker asking if she could at least tell me if I’d failed it, and she explained that no, all psychologists in Italy were on vacation and my results were still pending. That was an interesting emotion to feel. via https://ift.tt/CMBjIwl

[godspraymessage]

Why the Elite HATE Your Spiritual Development

I had no idea how dangerous this would be...

Ever since I was young, consciousness has fascinated me like nothing else. But still, let’s get real…

Actually using meditative states to invite love, health, AND wealth into your life?

That’s gotta be a stretch too far...

My first adventure with meditation was all about the pursuit of one goal:

Enlightenment.

I know, I know -- it sounds a little cringeworthy. But I’ll let you in on a secret...

The crazy spiritual journey I’ve been on nearly cost me my life.

No kidding -- things were going smoothly enough until a chance discovery in an old bookstore…

Which revealed a 2,300 year-old “manifestation manuscript” -- concealed in ancient freakin’ Egypt of all places!

But before I continue with the story, I first want to ask…

What are your thoughts on meditation??

Have you found yourself on a similar path to me -- looking for moments of insight, only to get frustrated by how often your mind gives up...

A lot of these spirituality “experts” seem to avoid admitting it, don’t they?

The standard forms of meditation are as BORING as watching paint dry!

For me, the call for something deeper came at the right time…

16 months ago[1]  now, an archaeologist contact of mine asked if I wanted to join him at a cultural research conference in Cairo, Egypt.

I agreed and we spent some time after the conference exploring the city.

We did the typical tourist thing and got completely. damn. lost.

Usually, Google Maps would come to the rescue, but it didn’t give us a clear enough view of the area...

We stumbled around the backstreets and ended up finding a shabby-looking bookstore.

Of course, we had to go inside and take a look...

Everything seemed to happen so fast from there.

Within five minutes of nosing around, I’d opened a dusty book with a ton of weird drawings.

They all featured Egyptian gods…

Deities like Ra (the Sun God) and Thath (the God of Magic & Science).

Within five hours, I was back at the hotel tearing through the manuscript in the book…

Which I soon discovered was from the lost vaults in the Great Library of Alexandria!

And then, five days later, the dots began to connect. I noticed themes...

Consciousness expansion, sacred chakra power, and the mysterious “Akashic” records...

They kept appearing AGAIN and AGAIN.

Adrenaline had never pounded so hard through my veins...

Here -- in ancient text -- were manifestation techniques that had been kept hidden from mainstream society for over 2,000 years!

Not only could I apply these techniques to improve my life and reach deeper levels of consciousness...

I could help potentially hundreds, thousands, or millions of others too!

Well, I must have been a fool.

Although I’ve been a linguist for most of my career, I was naive and unprepared for the consequences of this discovery...

For a start, I didn’t realize just how pissed the authorities were going to be.

And I DEFINITELY didn’t think a protector of the elite would get involved…

The question is, WHY did the manuscript pose such a risk to the richest people in society??

Over time, the key pieces of the puzzle have been put together.

But in truth, right now I’m just grateful to be alive…

Thanking fate that I wasn’t in my office the night somebody drenched it with gasoline and burned it to a crisp.

Now, I don’t mean to leave you hanging, but I have to end things here for now…

This email would get out of control otherwise!

The full story is available to watch below, where you’ll also find out:

➔  Why My Office Burned Down After the Ancient Egypt Discovery

➔  Where TRUE Consciousness Resides (and How to Access It)

➔  Which Vibrational Frequencies are PROVEN to Make Chakra Shifts

➔  How to Use the Crown, Root & Heart Chakras for Wealth Building

➔  … and Who Might Get in Your Way (If You’re Not SUPER Careful)

Want to go straight to the video? Here’s the link:

Discover the 5 Ways to EXPAND Your Consciousness for Manifesting Wealth AND Happiness...

[the-firebird69]

There's another problem going on it's like 1800 people at fisherman's village no it's only like maybe 200 and it is Saturday but it's going to pick up the problem is that a lot of people are saying bad things and it's rude there are a few other things happening this is kind of a rough place not to have funds and they know it I'm just nothing to do no entertainment and everything that you can do it costs money I looked around and said I see why he's upset and there's hardly any sites or place you can go without being criticized or scrutinized if you go too many times and he's limited in how far you can go so I'm starting to work on the money it's getting absurd he's been asking me so this is so boring and my numbing that's so damn annoying he wants to drag him somewhere just to drag someone somewhere and these guys are cheap as hell I'll tell you it's murder they're hinging to our story sticking to him not realizing what's going on I mean it's it's horrible I decide to point that out

-we have a lot of other stuff going on and he wants some major points out and it's starting to get uncomfortable here and I don't see why but it's just boring so let's see now people walking by and people fighting quietly saying stupid s*** for freaking

-the other things happening that are pretty big and we need to be announced what is that they're having a tough time if they manage to look after decent and we got to figure out how

-and the second is still playing a lot of threats that are really gross and stupid meaningless and ineffective

-other things there are some advances in California they lost 0.2% but they're using a special and for some reason didn't care about it it's 5% of the special reserve troops so playing some kind of game but that's their game and they're mounting another such attack and it's going to be twice as many somebody 0.4% and that's of all of them in the West and that's a lot it's it's a huge amount.

-the idiots from Castle Rock by and they don't realize there's a two-year waiting period and that's February and that's still 5 months away and my husband is not going to be doing that again but Tommy f is now implicated being the one who is keeping the funds away from him not so much the Max and warlock supporting him and Tommy F says he's using them and the max are doing stuff in the background it's a help and others foreigners and the Jonathan company we kind of tough to deal with but really it's the clones who are the holdup

..

So if you look at this way to calculate it

***he was there and at Castle for 5 years and recently and so far he has been out of there from February 2022 to February 2023 plus 6 months to the beginning of September.

That folks is one year and 6 months almost and six more months it'll be two years and it's a waiting period in the state of Florida if he's there before that the state will threaten to shut it down and they have state facilities and that's what Jason is trying to put him and there's several around here and at a certain point we're going to shut them down or take them over he says we should take them over and I do get that.

No there's a two year grace period between when you can be in one of these projects again and if you go back to the same one you have to explain why it didn't work and he's going to reference employees he had to fire Terry cheesman that's one of them Alicia is another and they have to be around also he wants to reference several other things but there are other employees he's going to say he had to lay off Lori is one of them but she's not around but there is Sherry and she found and said I'm around to counter my own plan and that's what Tommy f is up to.

It's a couple more points to this

When is that he would put him back after the grace period and the second is he would do some sort of induction ceremony and he wants to do it with testing and stuff it's not necessary and he probably won't do it if he doesn't have to and so forth but he wants to force it to see what the status is but what the hell we are not going to allow that or the other not allow him to do it and a lot of people will be against it and that's a very good reason why it won't work I don't want it to you guys sick. Siri address the facility and this five more years even after a 5-year attempt. That is if something happens to his housing completely so you look at it that way and it seems like he wants in the hospital to knock him out of social security or just in the hospital to mess up the apartment somehow or for him to take it over and he's been trying to do that that is one thing he's doing he's trying to mess up the apartment Neverland's noticing it today and he's doing it pretty tough pretty hard a lot of people don't like him cuz of what he's doing

****

I'm going to ask him to Publish no

Hera

Olympus

[natashalie-lumley]

Ok. This is something that maybe doesn't apply to everybody but I don't care because literally Nothing applies to Everybody. And I need to write some of this down before going to bed and having to get up for work again tomorrow

Some context: I answer phones for the Medicare department of a national health insurance agency. That means I'm mostly dealing with older people or younger people with disabilities. It also means a lot of calls about heavy topics. Which is a great lead in to my first point.

1) your member services rep is NOT your trauma dumping ground. I don't want or need to know about your shitty life, past present or future. I get so many people every day telling me they don't have any family or friends and they don't like their lives and honey I'm sorry because that does suck but I AM NOT A COUNSELOR. I'm here to answer your health insurance questions and get you off the phone.

2) similar point, WE ARE NOT MEDICALLY TRAINED PROFESSIONALS!! the number of times I've been asked "what medication should I be on" or "should I have this procedure" is higher than you think. And yes there are some people who are asking "what medications are covered" (which is a little easier to answer) and "is this procedure covered", but that's not what they Ask. Also leads in to point 3

3) we don't need to know your symptoms! We can't do anything with that information! Even if you're calling because something got denied and you want to appeal it, telling us about how you need the chemo because you're losing bodily functions or something is Not Helpful and in fact is very stressful. And no, me adding that to the appeal does not increase the chances of it getting a positive result.

4) don't ask super broad questions. A common one is "am I on the best plan" and they always seem confused when I can't just say "yes/no" to it. Each plan is just slightly different from the other, be it in the amount of dental work it covers or the medications it includes. I need to know what factors matter to you before I can tell you whether there's a plan that would work better.

5) if we say something is a Medicare rule, it means WE CANT CHANGE IT. the biggest one is the Coverage Gap, sometimes called the donut hole. (Tl;Dr is that after so much money gets spent on your meds you end up paying 25% of the cost instead of flat co-pays, which on like a handful of meds actually does save people money but usually it raises the price into the triple digits for a month supply.) Look, we know it sucks. We know that the whole system of stages is fucked. And we would LOVE to find a way for you to get your meds for free or super cheap. But as I mentioned before, we are not social workers and our resources for that are basically Google. So if we say "ok looks like the issue is [Medicare policy x]", telling us how much you need x is not going to change the fact that Medicare gets to do what they want.

6) HIPAA is a big ass deal and unfortunately it can mean making things difficult. Oh, your grandma has dementia and can't talk on the phone? Well unless you're authorized on her account or filed as her POA then grandma has to verbally come on the recorded line and say I can talk to you. Thankfully we're told that the caller can coach the member but like. It's still difficult and sometimes they're not in the same place let alone same state, and we have to say "ok so I can share certain information with you but I can't answer all your questions". If that happens, getting pissy at the rep isn't going to change THE LAW.

7) I'm sorry if you've been transferred a million times but if I can't help you because you need the dental dept, asking me questions is just prolonging both of our suffering. And yelling at me for it does nothing.

8) I don't know why other people do things. One of my absolute least favorite questions is "why did the last person I talked to tell me x and you're saying y??". Dude I don't fucking know I barely know why I DO THINGS and you want me to explain somebody else? (Also half the time the answer is "they didn't want to deal with you getting mad so they said what you wanted to hear" but I can't say that on the recording but it's true.)

9) technology sucks. I have 2 monitors and a laptop for work and I consistently want to introduce at least one of them to the business end of a mallet. Pages load slow or not at all and it's not on me so getting mad at me for taking some time helps exactly nobody.

10) those surveys at the end do have a result- bad reviews get coaching and good reviews go towards getting a raise. So even if you don't think it's worth it, if it's three questions or less maybe just take the dang thing.

11) if we're having trouble explaining something, it doesn't automatically mean we don't understand it. I get insulted at least once a day by someone intimating that if I were smarter there wouldn't be any issues and let me tell you, half the time is me remembering all of the non-advanced terms for things so I can try and break something down for you but the other half of those long pauses are me going "how to better explain the concept of co-pays when I can't break it down any further than "you have to pay for medical services".

12) if you say "well I'm going to change my plan" because we couldn't help you or something wasn't covered, please know that we are seconds from going "fine don't let the door hit your ass on the way out". We don't care, we can't care, because there are hundreds of you and it adds so much to the pile.

13) yes, a lot of us are working from home. Yes, a lot of the employees are from overseas. Yes, the costs of things suck. But if you try and engage us in any of those topics, the best you're getting is a non-committal response because and I can't stress this enough, we NEVER KNOW WHO IS LISTENING. So stop trying to get that agreement tell me what you wanted and go away.

14) if it sounds like a script it probably is. I get graded on my opening AND my closing and if I miss even a beat of it I get points off. So please. Don't hang up. Don't try and "uh-huh" every 2 seconds so we stop. Just listen and deal. Oh and please for the love of heaven, don't tell us "no I'm not taking the survey". What am I going to say to that, huh? Esp when, again, those do affect our jobs. Just say good day and hang up.

15) answer the question you were asked! This applies in both simple things (I end my greeting with "who do I get to help today" and the number of times people skip their name entirely or only give me their first name drives me up a wall) and in more complex questions. If I'm asking a clarifying question about a story you just told me, I don't need the whole story again! I just need that piece of information! You might think you're helping but really I'm sitting there glaring at the screen biting a hole through my lip in the effort to not punch you.

16) speaking of thinking you're helping, STOP INTERRUPTING. If you have something to clarify or think we missed something, keep your mouth shut and be respectful and wait until we stop talking. I hate being interrupted and so often it's something completely useless and I've actually started to very pointedly say "as I was saying" or just altogether interrupt back and say "please don't interrupt me" because "I'm sorry to interrupt but I could answer that question if you let me" was getting me nowhere.

There's probably more but I'm actually getting tired for once so I'm off to bed. The long and short of it- please remember that the person on the other end does not make the rules, does not make the decisions, and is doing their best. And also no their supervisor can't do those either because all of that is back of house and according to the internal phone book they don't exist. Sometimes you get a negative result on something and that's just life.

[backofthebookshelf]

The DMCA and You; or, why Tumblr won’t get sued over Post+

 I keep seeing people saying “doesn’t Tumblr understand they’re inviting an avalanche of lawsuits” and being baffled that people think this, and then I remembered that most of you were not both alive and in fandom in 1998 and therefore probably haven’t spent hours reading through the DMCA trying to figure out exactly how it was going to screw us. (Turns out we were right, but not nearly pessimistic enough.) So gather ‘round, children, it’s time for another bout of fandom history.

You have to understand what the internet looked like in 1998. Most people didn’t have internet access at home, and for those who did, you got a whopping 54 kbps (yes, that’s kilobytes per second) (compare that to 4G wireless, which 14 Mbps, not to mention, you know, wireless) unless you wanted to shell out for ISDN, which was twice the speed and five times the cost. Only 47% of American adults “went online” at all, never mind the two to six hours per day that current internet users are estimated to spend.

And I mean, why would you? There wasn’t that much there. If you wanted to post something online, your first and best option was to pay for web hosting of your own, or mooch off a friend’s. Or you could get a Geocities site, which would be plastered with ads and limited you to such a small amount of storage that you couldn’t have more than a couple dozen low-resolution images at best, or you could post on a message board (which would be essentially mooching off of a friend’s paid web hosting, because most sites that hosted message boards were just some guy who wanted to have a place to chat with his friends that wasn’t a Yahoo! email list), where you might get permission to post three or four images at a time. Music? Rude, takes up too much bandwidth, don’t do that to people. Video? You’re hilarious. (I once left my computer on for a week while I attempted to illegally download a copy of Velvet Goldmine but I finally gave up and got it from the video store instead.)

But still, at the time that was magic, and as more and more stuff found its way online, somebody who held a copyright somewhere (read: music studios and Disney) realized they had to get out in front of things. And into this brave new world came the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, which was passed in 1998 and was already skewing the shape of the internet of the future when it came into effect in 2000.

It did a lot of dumb things but the one we’re concerned about is the “safe harbor” provision, which basically says that in the case of an online copyright infringement, there are three parties: the infringer, the copyright holder, and the internet host, and the host is not a part of the copyright dispute.

Prior to this, if Sony or Disney or whoever found an illegal copy of their intellectual property (read: an mp3 or an avi) online, they’d go after whoever owned the server it lived on. Which made sense! If you find stolen TVs in someone’s basement, you go after the guy who owns the basement, and “I didn’t know my deadbeat brother in law was stealing TVs” is something you’ll have to prove in a court of law.

But internet companies like Geocities and Yahoo! and anyone else who offered random users the chance to post things on the internet using a free account said wait a minute, this doesn’t make sense. Because the internet is not like a physical basement; we have no reason to see someone carrying stolen mp3s down the basement stairs, and the scale is such that we couldn’t see all of them if we tried (unless we banned all mp3s, which means goodbye, MySpace, and goodbye indie bands). You wouldn’t go after a landlord in New York because their tenant in New Jersey is stealing TVs, would you?

So the DMCA said fine, we understand that the internet as it currently exists, and as it is attempting to exist (remember this is still the height of the dot.com boom and people are making money hand over fist by just owning websites), can’t operate if we try to do this. So instead of letting big companies sue big companies over copyright law, we’ll let big companies sue individual humans over copyright violations. That’s much more fair.

Of course most of what resulted wasn’t lawsuits at all; it was individuals getting threatening letters from Sony and Disney promising them that they were planning to sue but if you, Joe User, will just delete the thing you posted from the internet, we’re willing to make this all go away. And people did, because fuck, who’s going to duke it out with Disney?

The DMCA is the reason tumblr exists in the first place (not to mention twitter, and facebook, and essentially the entire part of the internet that isn’t either an ad or a news website). Technically, if tumblr was responsible for copyright violations, they’re already a prime target for a lawsuit, because they’re running ads on a website where people post copyright violations on a daily basis. Adding the opportunity for you to make money off your copyright violations doesn’t make them any more liable than they already are, which is not at all.

So here’s what predict will happen with Post+ at the beginning: absolutely nothing. A few people will monetize gifsets or fanfiction or vids and no one will pay attention and no one will care. But some small creators, people who post original fiction, people who post craft patterns, people who post insightful analysis, will start using it as part of their actual revenue stream. Sooner or later someone will be making enough money that it pings someone’s radar, and sooner or later someone making money will slip up and post something that could plausibly be a copyright violation, and they won’t get sued. They’ll get a takedown notice, a threatening letter from whoever owns the thing they infringed upon (...so Disney), and they’ll pull the thing. But it’s hard to pull things from the internet, much harder than it used to be, and nearly impossible the way tumblr works. So they get another takedown notice. Or Disney’s lawyers go through their blog with a fine-toothed comb and they start getting more and more unreasonable takedown notices, but now they’re scared and fuck, who’s going to duke it out with Disney? So they take their blog down entirely, and now that person is a little bit poorer and Disney is out the cost of four or five stamps and envelopes and the time their lawyer spent fifteen years ago drafting the takedown notice template.

I guarantee you that the people who decided to implement this know that this is going to happen, and they do not care. We’ve reached the “we could make this website work if we could just get rid of fandom” stage, which never ends well for the website but they never seem to learn that. So please, please don’t try to monetize fandom content on the assumption that tumblr is going to be the one to get slapped with a lawsuit for it, that’s just not how it works. It never has been and it never will be.

[hintsofhoney]

alright, *cracks fingers*. so. I’ve written up a transcript just to lay it all out for myself and get the most important parts. listen, everyone. for all intents and purposes and legal reasons, THIS WAS A DREAM. alright? I dreamt this. and he is literally the nicest human being ever so I don’t want to just like... put our whole convo out there like that, but I think he said some stuff that was important for people to hear so... here we go

my *dreamt* zoom call with thee crowley below the cut

The first five minutes (of my dream) was just a bunch of introduction stuff and talking about my favorite Supernatural seasons which eventually led to him telling me how they filmed the Season 8 finale (which they did over the span of three days, and in between takes the crew members were like dead silent, as to keep the moment going, which Mark thought was really cool. Said it was one of his favorite things they did on Supernatural.) Anyways, he eventually asked me if I had any questions, so, I’ll start there.

MARK: So, do you have any questions you want to ask me about aaaaaannyyyythingggg? 

ME: Um, I guess the number one thing I wanna know… um, so, I know you can’t speak for Dean and I don’t want to talk about Dean because you’re not Jensen, but, there’s like a lot of questions I guess or subtext or whatever concerning Dean’s sexuality and what not, but I want to know about demon Dean and Crowley’s relationship and if there was, I don’t know, anything like, any implied –

MARK: Well I think – I think you’re talking about… there’s a massive difference between sex and love. There’s a massive difference between, um, well, they can intertwine perfectly, that’s not the issue, but I mean you would believe with all the things that Crowley did for the Winchesters, that he was – that he very much loved Sam and Dean or loved who they are or what they are. To reduce it to, you know, a crush, or to something that – I mean, I don’t know, I think Crowley is very probably pansexual more than anything else; I don’t think anything phased him. I think, that’s why the whole stuff with Lucifer and licking the floor was kind of really stupidly boring for me because Crowley did weirder and crazier things on his own. I mean, it became this joke of trying to humiliate somebody who can’t be humiliated. There’s nothing you can humiliate Crowley with. So, that never sort of made sense, that was just a sort of writer’s glitch of thinking, “oooh, this would be funny to knock him down into subservience” and that’s what he does on a Wednesday, I mean it’s like the most un-inspiring thing. I think so much is projected onto the relationship between, certainly the four main characters, um, and, you know, look, getting comfortable with one’s sexuality and one’s identity is a massively complicated things, and if you want to live vicariously through what you believe people’s identity is and you can relate to that, great!  Who cares? I mean, can I be absolutely honest? Apart from – what I do care about, you know, don’t ever take this and piece me or misquote it, because it’s very, very specific – um, somebody stopping somebody being able to express their own identity or whatever is an issue for me. That will always be an issue for me. Um, we should all be treated equally, and we all have the rights to believe and follow those things that we wish to follow, but to project relationships onto characters is an odd thing to do. I mean, it’s wishful thinking in a lot of ways, I mean, actually it’s quite… it’s quite reasonable because in the past if you think about it, if you ask your parents or anyone else, the only way sexuality was used was to, uh, literally demonize somebody. It was only ever used to say somebody was bad because this who they’re in love with. You know, that’s, that’s the thing. And it’s a massive change in the world that we’re moving towards, I should say, uh – a lack of consequence for who one loves, apart from the obvious consequences of human nature. You know, political consequences for who one loves – I’ve just watched Pete Butteigieg being, you know, sitting in congress with his husband there with him; that’s the first time that’s ever happened in United States congress and I’m so proud of that. Not just because the man is gay and happily married – that’s not even the issue for me, it’s because he’s the best man for the job and one of the smartest people on the planet. You know, it’s like using sexual templates, as they were, or gender templates as they are, or orientation templates as they are, we always use to disclude people from things. They were always used to discriminate. You know, labeling somebody was a way of discrimination. And where as labels are very important, to ones self, and they’re very important politically and they’re very important socio-economically and they’re very important in all those aspects, I yearn for a time when nobody gives a damn. I really do. But I mean, we have to go through so much to get there. I mean, let’s be honest, you can’t, you know, right the wrongs of hundreds of years of oppression in 20 minutes by saying, “let’s all move forward”. It just doesn’t work that way, it never has. But there’s a responsibility there, that if you’re going to represent, that you represent all. That you don’t just represent you. So, one has to be careful with a television program or, or, you know, Misha or myself, or, not speaking for the boys, but just generally, um, you have to be careful that what you advocate is inclusive, not disinclusive. Not excluding people... and it’s so hard to frame these conversations, that they’re equitable, it’s so hard to do that. And so, you know, we spend years pointing out the inequity and the injustice and the unfairness of the whole situation, and… I don’t know if the trick is to rise above, or, uh, maybe it’s as simple as love and coming together as a human race and make it very difficult for people to discriminate and exclude based on gender, race, color, religion, any of the subsets of humanity that we’ve decided we have. So, I think personal responsibility is the most important thing, but if one is in a position of power on a TV show, you got to remember what you’re representing, that you have a, you know, you have to cover all or cover none. So, you know, but if you stick to a story and you have a story about a person or two people and their journey, that’s shining light on things. If you try to advocate for all, I think it becomes a little more complicated. Does that make sense?

so, i just feel like he said some important things there, but like I also don’t really understand what he’s getting at really, y’know? oh! also, he didn’t watch the finale lmao 

also! there’s this:

MARK: Because if you come down on one side or another, you’re admitting the sides, and that has its own political ramifications. If you push the ball up in the air and say, “you decide”, I don’t think that’s copping out. I think that’s, maybe not fulfilling everybody’s expectations, or not fulfilling everybody’s hopes, but at least you’re getting the question asked. You know, at least you’re getting the question asked. At least people are relating to it and going, “well, what if?”. Because it’s all “what if”, I mean, it’s a TV show, so it’s “what if”, you know? It’s not Misha being in love with Jensen, I mean as much as he loves Jensen, I don’t think that’s his thing – I mean you never know – but I’m saying yet again, I don’t exclude anything from anybody (I LITERALLY CAN’T BELIEVE HE SAID THIS LMAO). But to force my opinion or my identity belief upon a situation has a cost. It may be right, it may be absolutely right, and it may be necessary in many, many cases. But, in that circumstance, I think… there are a lot of people in the world that say that Jesus, for example, was anti-homosexual and that he was – and none of that is true, and none of that is provable in the New Testament, and I’m not talking about Leviticus and I’m not talking about early Bible and I’m not talking about the fact that more than 25,000 words have been changed in the King James edition and all of this stuff, but these things that people hold so sacred, the confusion that arises from that is being told that a man loving a man or a woman loving a woman or a man loving a man and a woman or whatever combination being there is either right or wrong because you’re being told by a pastor or the leaders of your church, is a very difficult thing to break down. I think what you have to do is at least put it out there so it’s visible, and so it becomes less and less deniable. And you know, people change over years, that’s the trouble with youth, is shit doesn’t move fast enough. “I need a decision now!”, and unfortunately, when you’re dealing with centuries of prejudice and centuries of un-enlightenment, I think that sometimes the best thing to do is reach as many people as possible and pose the question. And sometimes it’s essential to make a statement, absolutely, no question. It is essential to make a stand, in some circumstances. But to polarize a TV show, can be very disingenuous to those who need to go ask their own questions, who need to go say, “well, where does Jesus say this is wrong?” you know, if that’s your beliefs.

he also said, when we went off on a tangent about doom patrol:

MARK: There are issues that are being addressed here [on Doom Patrol] that are not being addressed on other shows, and yet again, we have the format, and I don’t know that Supernatural ever had the format because it was on the CW.

anywho, in conclusion, fuck the cw.

also, again, for all intents and purposes this was a dream I had :)))))))

[alfredosauce50]

What makes me human

[Cyberpunk! America x reader] 08

Wordcount: 4, 490 Rating: MA+ for strong language, violence, and gore. Viewer discretion advised. Chapter synopsis: When Allen finally uncovers the truth, he walks out of his job, but it costs him his life. Meanwhile, you and Alfred have been captured by extremists. Heads will literally roll.

(Remastered)

08

On my way to hell

Nothing had even happened yet, but Allen could sense it a mile away—he was screwed, and to what degree, he didn’t know. His boss always made a point to keep things ambiguous. And up until a crucial moment to keep an unshakeable hold on him.

“You must have a lot of questions.”

A right-hand man was too generous of a title when he didn’t know shit. A glorified bodyguard was more like it. His importance was solely physical, and that didn’t bode well in a digitized world like this.

“Right, yeah.” Allen spared him a tight smile. He always knew those facts, but remembering it now sent chills down his spine. “I was just wondering if your secret parking space was really all that.”

Mizumoto didn’t answer him, and the silence ate away at him faster than he could deal. So he kept rambling, desperate to preserve the atmosphere. 

“I, uh, found somebody down there.” He continued, tensing at the memory. “The hell happened to him?”

“An experiment of mine.”

“Sheesh. What kinda experiment would leave them looking like a prune?” Allen asked. He was speaking the most, yet, he wasn’t the one dominating the conversation. “Did you bake him or something?”

Even in silence, the kumicho held all the power.

“Not at all. He mummified on his own,” The other looked him right in the eye. “But his death wasn’t in vain. I would say it served a purpose equal in value, which is the driving force of all scientific discovery.”

“Oh, yeah? And how did he die?”

“Brain death.”

Allen’s brow twitched, profoundly disturbed by the thought. But he played it off with curiosity. If not, there were grisly fates for those who reacted wrongly to the company’s doings—with empathy, not apathy.

“Damn.” He rubbed his neck. “Sucks to be him.”

And he wasn’t getting his ticket punched today.

“He was a part of the most ambitious experiment to date. One that began long before you were born.” Mizumoto explained, pausing momentarily before continuing. “Fifty years ago, this company was nothing but a lowly yakuza hiding in abandoned buildings. So, when we had the opportunity to make a name for ourselves, we took it without hesitation.”

Pulling out a long pipe, he lit the end and gave it a few puffs. While he tapped it to get rid of the residue, he sensed Allen’s growing confusion at his recount that seemingly came out of nowhere.

“You won’t rest until you have the truth. I know.” Mizumoto remarked lowly. “Even if it isn’t your place. But I’ve always admired that about you, Allen. You’ve always tried your best to live beyond your means.”

Taking on gangsters, joining the yakuza, doing everything he could to protect who he cared about. Forgetting his own heritage to adopt another, he lost and gained everything by becoming a Mizumoto.

“Even if it kills you.”

“I’m still here,” Allen laughed awkwardly.

He was used to being belittled. No matter how spunky he was, talking back to his boss was like asking for a death wish. So he never did—only this felt different. Foreboding, even. But he was too afraid to even entertain the possibility of that tone of voice.

“We made something of ourselves by developing technology decades ahead of our time,” Mizumoto turned back to the window, watching the distant blinking of lights, the airborne traffic of spinners. “Appliances, vehicles, weapons. We quickly realized we needed to protect what we were building.”

He turned back to give the other a hard stare.

“That was when I met Alfred.”

The name caused Allen’s face to contort. Flawless ivory skin, youthful vigor, and the naivety to match. The suggestion that Alfred was older than him was far-fetched enough, but by such a wide margin?

“What? But he doesn’t look a day over twenty!”

“Yes. Twenty-three. In the mind and body.” The man elaborated, watching his puzzled expression deepen.“My men found him on the streets on the brink of starvation. He was only a child, then. Ran away from his orphanage. So we took him in and raised him.”

It sounded too familiar for his comfort, ‘taken in’ by the syndicate. First, Alfred, then him. You were born into it, but what difference did that make? You were all children, lured in by the promise of protection.

“Taught him how to fight. He was exceedingly talented, so we planned to have him join our ranks when he turned sixteen. When he refused, we warned him we would be coming back for him.”

“But how is he…?”

“You didn’t let me finish.” Mizumoto walked closer and closer to him until the proximity was menacing. “In four years’ time, we brought him back to our lab. We put him to sleep for fifty years so he could wake up to a world when we made a name for ourselves.”

Allen took a step back, heart racing. He could feel himself coming apart, starting from the inside out.

“By the time he gained consciousness, we turned him into a fully-enhanced killing machine.”

His loyalty to the company and his protection in it.

“Even to this day, he remains my greatest creation.”

The way he spoke of him made his stomach churn, and the nausea went up his throat. He talked about Alfred like he was his, an object to be owned, controlled, and programmed to do his bidding.

“Let me guess. He didn’t want that.”

“He struggled until the anesthesia did its work.”

Allen closed his eyes. Sweat dampened his forehead as he processed what he was told. Forced sedation, nonconsensual body modification, just what the fuck else was he capable of? He didn’t even want to know.

“Then what about that body in the basement?”

“Oh, that?”

He opened his eyes, his complexion pale.

“That was Alfred.”

“What?” Allen strained. “What do you mean?”

“That body belonged to Alfred.” The man elaborated firmly. “The Soulkiller was a success. He was the first subject to allow for a complete transfer of the mind. His old body couldn’t accept the enhancements, so we gave him a new one—the one he has now.”

He threw his head back as heat rushed to his face. Allen didn’t think it was possible to feel so furious in someone else’s stead, let alone Alfred’s. But this?

“He is the first fully-functioning cyborg with a soul. Human thought and emotion, if you will.”

This was insanity.

“You lied to me,” Allen glared at him through his rapidly blurring vision. “You said the Soulkiller was a prototype. That you were gonna test it on him. But you were just saying that to cover up what you did!”

“And you were fine with killing him the exact same way. It would be hypocritical to blame me for it.”

“Things are different now!” He cried, digging his hands through his hair. Pointing an accusing finger at him, which wouldn’t stop trembling, his face warped with angry betrayal. “I thought he was just another cyberpsycho, but you’re the one who’s insane.”

It was disheartening to see how nonchalant his superior was, how little he cared. He stood there with his arms behind his back, waiting for him to finish.

“I can’t work for you anymore,” He turned his back on him, teeth clenched. “I’m getting out of here.”

“I didn’t think you would,” Mizumoto slid a hand into one of the flaps of his kimono. Allen was already on his way to the door, ready to put everything behind him. “My men shall escort you out of the building.”

Even then, he still wanted to look back for old times’ sake. He spent a great deal of his youth here, somewhere he used to fall asleep after work. There by the kotatsu, or on that couch. You sometimes came here to study, so he made it a habit to visit you.

But that was all in the past, now.

You weren’t here, and he was never coming back. So did that mean he would never see you again? Allen choked back a sob at the thought. As tears bubbled out of his eyes, he turned back for one last look.

But rather than a bittersweet sight of nostalgia, he found himself staring at death in the face. And to feel fear in a place he used to call home was alien to him.

Mizumoto had drawn out his katana.

He was paralyzed as he watched on. A part of him was in disbelief that the old man could even raise a hand against him. Another part of him knew this was his true self, a heartless wretch that didn’t know love.

Before he could do so little as take another step, they lunged forward and thrust the blade into his torso.

“Gh—!” Allen’s eyes flew open as a sharp pain engulfed his chest. He grabbed the handle with both hands and staggered backward, each wobbly step causing blood to pour onto the wooden floorboards.

Sweat rolled down his chin. His mouth fell agape. Lowering his gaze to where the sword plunged into, he watched a bright red patch spread on his shirt. His lung was punctured, and he was suffocating.

“You—” He looked up, face contorting. “—agh!”

While he gasped desperately for air, clinging to each breath to somehow survive, the blade pushed deeper in until it came curving out his back. To be stabbed and suffocated at the same time left him trembling with so much agony, he wished he died right there.

But his enhancements prolonged his death, letting him feel each and every part of his body shut down.

“I sensed you were in conflict with your loyalty, Allen. If you want to side with Alfred, you can do that in the afterlife.” Mizumoto smiled darkly. Raising the katana so he could be lifted a few inches off the ground, he leaned into his paling face for one final reckoning.

He kicked once, but the action only caused him to slide down on the katana, cutting him on the inside.

“Like yours, his death will be slow and humiliating. The chip will plant a virus in his system and cripple him. Then, he’ll become brain-dead so he can be put out of his misery. The most fitting end for him.”

Blood bubbled out of his mouth like a fountain, and he gritted his teeth just to stop more from spewing out. Not a word was spoken, but Allen’s expression did all the talking. His glare burned with the anger of ages, with a ferocity that would stay even after death.

You’ll never get away with this.

But perhaps, he already had.

Allen was the only one who knew of his diabolical plans, and here he was, fading away. Eventually, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, showing the whites. Only then did Mizumoto retract his sword, letting his body fall to the ground in a heavy thump.

He gave the katana a strong flick, leaving a thin line of red on the floor. The door burst open a few moments later, letting men in suits pour in.

“Take him to the dump.”

The katana came down on his mantis blades, severing them in one clean slice. They clattered on the floor and went up in sparks. Alfred reared back and let out a bloodcurdling scream. Then, he started kicking his feet against the ground, wailing in agony.

Your jaw dropped, horrified by the sound of his voice. But what you saw made you cover your mouth. His mantis blades were reduced to stubs sticking out of his forearms, which twitched every so often.

Two men stood with you in the crowd, one on each side. They made it a point to hold you back, for what was about to begin would have you fighting to get onstage. Alfred was moved onto a medical table, and for what, you didn’t know. But it couldn’t be good.

The theater murmured restlessly, only to be silenced by their leader raising both hands in the air.

“Year by year, we lose hundreds to cyberpsycho attacks around the city. This man—”

The speaker pointed at him.

“—is one of thousands to instigate the senseless violence that is destroying the greatest megalopolis in the world.” He boomed, filling the stadium with his truth. The crowd went up in a passionate uproar, acknowledging the irrefutable reality that was their new norm: a widespread epidemic of psychopathy.

Alfred was laid flat on his back. The second they tied him down, he started pulling at his restraints.

But the pain was too much.

“Now, he may look like your average joe from 2070’s America, but do not be mistaken,” They continued, pulling a knife from their sleeve and holding it up. “He’s made of nothing but plastic and metal. Not a single organ is made of flesh, not even his heart!”

Your face fell, hypnotized by the glint of the blade.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you all go to sleep tonight with the relief that you never strayed from the path of God. We embraced ourselves for how we were created—in his image—but folks like him have lost sight of who we are as human beings.”

Alfred’s eyes widened, manic with rage.

“This is not a human being.”

He pulled harder and harder on his restraints, fueled by a growing fire in his chest. He’d been afraid before, but hearing that changed something inside him. If he really was a freak, he’d show them a freak.

The more he strained, the warmer his wrists grew. Soon, they’d be hot enough for him to break free. Small wisps of smoke curled up from his hands, and the stench of melting rope filled his nose.

“If he were, he would bleed.” The speaker cut him across his neck, and like he said, not a single drop of red appeared. Just a transparent slither of fluid. When the audience caught on, gasps went around.

You thrashed as hard as you could in the grips of the two strongmen, but to no avail. One of them resorted to holding your neck, quelling any and all resistance. If you wanted to look away, you couldn’t now.

“Imagine what he’d be capable of when he turns full cyber psycho.” The man mused, holding the knife above his head. “Are we just going to wait for him to slay ten innocents before he’s finally put down?”

The crowd yelled in dissent.

You lunged forward, screaming for him.

“Or do we kill him now and free him from the confines of his corrupted vessel?”

Just like that, your fear for him overcame the fear for yourself. And you did what you never thought you would—take on two grown men unarmed—but you’ve never been this sure of anything in your life.

Kicking one in the groin, they released your arm and stumbled backward. That let you throw a hard punch into the other’s temple. They fell on their side with next to no grace. Then, you raced towards the stage.

The next three seconds happened in slow-motion.

The outstretching of your hand, the beating of your legs, Alfred’s head turning to you.

Before you could get close enough, you were forced to the ground by the man you kicked. They slammed your head to the floor and twisted your arm behind your back, getting you to cry out in pain.

But that wasn’t all.

When you looked up with your teeth clenched, your nose was bleeding. And Alfred saw.

The redness of your blood, their hand on your face, their nails digging into your skin. And it gave him a real taste of the madness he was accused of.

Rage was all he knew as his wrists lit up in flames. Giving his hands a strong tug, he snapped himself free to rip the knife from his captor. Then, he rolled off the table and jumped back onto his feet.

The sight of an unrestrained cyberpsycho sent the audience fleeing, including the man holding you down. As you slowly rose to your feet, you found yourself watching the most gruesome scene unfold.

Alfred marched up to their leader, swinging the knife from side to side. It cut through the air in sharp ‘fwip’ sounds, but the weapon wasn’t nearly as terrifying as its wielder—a cyborg gone rogue. There was nothing behind his eyes but mindless bloodlust.

The man stumbled backward and fell on their back.

“Help me!” He cried. His underlings ran onstage from behind, training their guns at Alfred.

You dove offstage before they opened fire.

A few bangs went off, lodging bullets into his leg and shoulder. His body jolted back from the force of being shot at, but he kept standing. And there he waited, all until all their last bullet was fired.

Then, he dashed forward, slicing their necks. Blood sprayed onto his face, but he never stopped, driven by the uncontrollable urge to mow down every last son of a bitch that dared cross his path.

The last man onstage drew another gun. His mouth fell agape in fear as he fired uncontrollably at the unkillable monstrosity that came at him. Once Alfred passed him, a horizontal line formed on his neck.

His head came off, falling down his back.

But Alfred was far from done.

The man you punched had suffered a concussion, and only now did he have it in him to draw iron. Alfred leaped offstage and onto him with his knife raised above his head. His face sparked from a bullet ricochet, but that did nothing to stop him.

Sinking that into their skull, he killed him instantly.

That left the man who started it all, their leader, who was busy shuffling away from the head onstage.

He picked up the gun by his foot and trained it at the fucker’s head. Curling his finger around the trigger, his glare deepened when he pulled it, ending it all.

Four bangs went off.

Gun shells clinked and clattered on the ground.

When he lowered his arm, they were unrecognizable. The top half of his head was gone. Chunks of flesh, bone, and brain were blasted all over the stage like a painting. What was left of him was the bottom set of his teeth, tongue, and smoking hot flesh.

Alfred took you to the first bathroom he could find. He didn’t have to pay a dime, not when his face and clothes were doused with blood. And the first thing he did was tear off the bottom of his shirt.

Twisting that into a thin tube, he put it up your nose.

Only then did he start washing himself.

Soon, you were back on the street with him again, only more exhausted than before. Your hold on his hand tightened. Then, you slowed down, clutching your stomach with a pained frown.

“What’s wrong?” He turned to you.

“I’m hungry.” You uttered.

It wasn’t the first time he heard you say it, but he was crushed. His brows trembled together as he walked, towing you along. If what happened took as long as he thought it did, you couldn’t have eaten for days.

He’d been so occupied looking for a place to stay, he completely forgot about you. He didn’t feel hunger, nor did he depend on food like you did. His strength and appearance didn’t wax or wane. But you?

“Come on. Let’s get you some real food.” Alfred kept his eyes forward as he led you down the next block.

“Like organic food?”

“Not that real.”

“Aw.”

“Princess.”

Your arms were thinner, and your collarbones weren’t as prominent as they were now. He couldn’t bear to look at you, knowing he would crumble the second he did. Even then, you could barely keep up with him, and he felt it—every pull, every pause.

Staying the night in a traditional Japanese inn was your idea. A ‘ryokan,’ you called it. Night City was rich with all kinds of cultures, especially East Asian ones. Stepping into one transported him to Japan, and as an American who never left the country, he couldn’t really complain. When you walked inside with him, he was immediately taken by the neat line of shoes.

But Alfred seemed to know what he was doing.

And you never brought it up. He slipped out of his shoes, put them together, then moved them so they could point toward the door. You only followed suit, placing your flats next to his boots.

A line of women in uniform bowed deeply at your arrival. You bowed in return, and so did Alfred. After a friendly albeit frenzied exchange in Japanese, they whisked you away, so he jogged over to catch up.

“You seem to know them,” He commented.

“It’s just hospitality.” You replied.

“But they said they’d give you your favorite room,” Alfred quirked a brow. He walked with you down the warmly-lit hall, led by the innkeepers in the front. “And all sorts of things. The soup, what vegetables are in season, the mains, desserts, and blah.”

You turned to him, stifling a smile.

“You didn’t even check in yet.” He finished.

“So you do understand.” You walked into the elevator with him, watching his expression change. Sadness pulsed through him, and it flickered in his eyes. Something beautiful was reduced to a bad memory.

After getting settled in your room, you took a nice hot soak in the private hot spring. Alfred washed up next, and the food arrived while he was neck-up in water. An elaborate array of dishes was laid out on the kotatsu, ranging from warm and cold, soft and hard.

Sashimi, tofu, rice, soup, everything fermented, dried, and marinated among other delicacies.

Before you dug into the mouth-watering dishes, you sat back and called Alfred over. He showed up a few minutes later in his yukata, his hair a damp mess and obi tied in a ribbon. Giving your head a light shake, you stood up with a small smile. It was impressive how he could manage to make anything look untidy.

“You tied it wrong.” You pulled the sash apart.

“Woah—” His yukata loosened, but before his chest could be exposed, you pulled them together again. While you fixed his sash for him, he stood over you, watching every movement of your nimble fingers, every twist and pull you made. “—right.”

Alfred was so close, you could feel his breath fanning all over your forehead. And it was quiet, save for the rustling of fabric. Fortunately, not a minute passed before you were done, gazing up at him again.

“There. Tied like a proper samurai.”

What you weren’t prepared for was how close his lips were to yours. You were quick to notice, and you looked down almost instantly. Alfred didn’t falter. He just smiled at your coyness, only it was so subtle, you missed it when you scrambled to sit down.

“What are you standing around for? Come eat.”

“Alright,” Alfred laughed, giving the table a brief scan. He had never seen so much food in one place, but weirdly enough, that wasn’t what captivated him. “So, which one am I meant to eat first?”

He looked at you several times over the course of the meal. He wished he could say it was because he wanted to, but the injuries they left you with, no matter how minor, bothered him to no end.

You were too ravenous to notice, not lifting your head once as you ate for the first time in days.

Dinner went by without a hitch, bringing the night to a close. Two futons were laid out in the bedroom with a slight gap between them. It was no coincidence that a shoji screen stood conveniently in the corner.

The innkeepers were considerate of your privacies, but that wasn’t how things worked around here.

“Well—” He strained, dragging his futon to yours. One corner even overlapped yours before he fixed it. He stood up, satisfied by his work. “Now we won’t have to worry about separation anxiety anymore.”

“We?” You raised your brows.

“Right, sorry. Just you.” He dropped onto his futon. He leaned back and rested on his palms, watching you do the same. Not a minute passed before he backpedaled on his joke. “Wanna share a futon?”

You shot him a heated look. When you realized he was being serious, you just shook your head.

“One is too small.”

“No it isn’t.” He got under the blanket and scooted to the side, patting a spot for you. “C’mon. Just try.”

“But it won’t be comfortable,” You frowned.

Regardless, you humored Alfred on his suggestion, getting under the covers with him. It should’ve been strange, sleeping so close without reservation. But this was just the norm now. Every past motel room had one bed so he could keep an eye on you.

What made this so different was the choice. He could sleep apart from you, and you him.

Yet, you both elected to be together.

“If you can’t sleep, I’ll just move to the other futon.”

“Fine.”

He laid on his side to face you.

“Dinner was great, by the way.”

“Yeah,” You softened your gaze on him. “I haven’t had something that good in ages. I’m stuffed.”

“I’m glad,” He smiled. A comfortable silence fell as you stared at each other, heads on one pillow. As he lay with you, relief overcame him until it became pure ecstasy. You were here, and you were safe.

But with that pleasure was pain all the same.

What happened to you was all his fault.

Alfred pulled you into a hug, his face warped with sadness. You hugged him right back. As he buried himself into the crooked of your neck, a shudder ran down your spine. You’d been in shock until now, and when you finally processed what you’d seen, tears streamed relentlessly down the side of your face.

He kissed your forehead tenderly, closing his eyes.

Alfred felt no remorse for killing them.

His only regret was that you saw him do it.

Holding your face with one hand, he consoled you until you drifted away beside him. Even then, he never stopped caressing your cheek, comforting you as you slept. And he kept at it until morning.

“We have to go to the dump,” Alfred murmured, stroking your back as you laid on him.

“Why don’t we go to a ripperdoc?” You rolled your head to him, tone unwilling. After a good night’s rest, you were well enough to hear of his plans, however headache-inducing they may be. “I’m not letting you put anything in your body otherwise.”

“I don’t have the money,” He sighed. Before you could say anything, he took the words out right of your mouth. “And using yours is out of the question. We just have to work with what we got, okay?”

Next chapter: Coming soon

Tag-list: @sunnysssol, @chicha027

[absandersons]

Dean Winchester be like:

I hate myself because it’s what my father taught me to do.  I hate myself because it’s a defense mechanism.  I use sarcasm to cover up the fact that I believe I am worthless.  I raised my brother into a good man, that’s the only good I’ve ever done.  I’ve saved some people, they don’t say thank you, but that’s okay.  I wish I could have been the man my father wanted me to be.  I break everything I touch.  All the people I love I end up killing or leaving me.  I am broken.  I don’t do romantic love, it’s asking for me to get my heart broken, more broken than it already is.  I sold my soul to a demon so I could save my brother, because he’s the best thing I ever did, the only good thing.  I’m afraid to go to Hell, but I pretend I’m not, because what’s the alternative? 

Hell proved that I was the person I always knew I was, a bad person, willing to torture to get out of pain.  I met an angel, he’s not like I thought.  He’s a soldier, like me, he’s taking orders from a father he can’t see.  He starts out as an ally, but he’s different than the others, they say he likes me.  He’s awkward, he stands too close to me sometimes.  I started the Apocalypse because I wasn’t strong enough.  My brother is going down the wrong path, and I don’t know how to stop it.  The angels tell me Lucifer has to rise, but the one that pulled me out of Hell disobeys to help me stop it.  I think I should consider him a friend.  Lucifer rises anyway. 

The angel is on the run from Heaven, he’s a good guy, I like him a lot, more than I think I should.  I don’t know what to do, if I say yes to Michael, we can save some people.  Maybe I’ll get to know peace, maybe my father will be proud of me then.  The angel and my brother are angry at me, but I’ve always been a coward, they just don’t know it.  But they know me best, I can’t say yes to Michael if it means disappointing them. 

My brother goes to the cage with Lucifer and Michael, the angel disappears, and I’m left to pick up the pieces, living a life I feel like I stole from somebody else.  I always sleep with a gun and holy water under the bed, even though I know every entrance is secure.  My brother comes back, but he’s different now, he’s not the same, I should have looked for him.  I feel guilty.  We found out his soul is gone, his soul, his soul.  The angel is back, but he’s no real help.  I kill myself to speak to Death, who brings back his soul in exchange for me playing Death, where I learn a few hard lessons. 

I find out the angel has been working with our enemies.  Why does it feel like my heart is broken when he won’t meet my eyes?  I leave him to the demons, but not before one last look.  I’m not sure why.  The idiot, he ends up dying trying to get souls from Purgatory, desperate to win his war in Heaven.  Why does everyone leave me?  The Leviathan are out there, a new threat.  At least I know how to kill, so I won’t have to think about the muddy trenchcoat in the trunk of my car.  I lose the closest thing I have to a father with a bullet to the brain.  I feel like I’m spinning out of control.  My brother loses his mind.  The angel comes back, he doesn’t recognize me, that hurts.  When he does remember me, I tell him we need him, but I really mean that I do. 

I get sent to Purgatory, I meet a vampire turned ally turned new best friend, but I won’t leave without the angel, I can’t leave without the angel.  We find him, he was running from me, why does everyone run from me?  We make it out of Purgatory, the angel gets left behind.  It turns out my brother didn’t look for me.  Why am I so dispensable?  The vampire is the only one I can trust now.  I dream about the angel, about the way I couldn’t save him.  I feel like I can’t save anyone these days.  I see the angel in the air around me, am I going crazy?  But then he shows up behind me, why do I care so much about him?  I don’t even care where he came from, as long as he’s here.  My brother takes on trials, they start to hurt him.  We find a place to call home.  I’ve never had my own bedroom before.  The angel is distant, I wish I could reach him.  He doesn’t answer my prayers.  He and I find the angel tablet, he hits me.  I tell him I need him, never able to tell him that I think I might love him too.  He snaps out of it then walks out of my life again.  I wish I was lovable.  I almost lose my brother to the trials, he has to know I can’t lose him, he’s all I’ve got.  The angels fall, I wonder about my angel, if he’s alright. 

My brother is dying, and I make a deal with an angel to save him.  My angel says he’s a good guy, and I’m too desperate to vet him properly.  I watch my angel, now a human, die in front of me, the angel in my brother saves him, it’s one of the only times I’ve ever put someone else over my brother.  I feel guilty about that.  I have to kick my angel out, it tears me in half to do it, but I have to protect my brother.  I watch the angel from a gas station window, I try to find the courage to go see him.  I use humor to hide how much I miss him.  My brother finds out about the angel, which cost the life of a kid I was supposed to protect, he’s so angry at me.  Well, I deserve it this time.  I take the Mark of Cain to defeat Abaddon, it can’t be all that bad.  I start to lose my grip on myself.  My angel gives up an army for me, and it’s the closest I feel to being me in months. My brother and my angel try to stop it, but it’s too late.  I die in my brother’s arms.

I wake up with black eyes.  I don’t care about anyone, anything.  There’s a tiny part of me that’s screaming to wake up, but I drown him out easily enough.  My brother finds me, says he wants to cure me.  I don’t want it, I don’t want to be me, not feeling is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.  They do cure me though, my brother and my angel, and waking up from the blackness is like surfacing from deep water.  For a while, I feel loved.  But after what I did, I don’t feel like I deserve it.  I’m still not me, and when my friend, who I loved like a sister is taken, I go off the deep end again. It’s too easy, but violence is all I know.  The angel tries to stop me.  I have him where I want him, a blade to the heart and this is all over.  But I still can’t kill him, I still can’t kill the angel.  Death tells me I have to kill my brother.  I almost do it.  But killing Death releases me, and I’m me again.  Sometimes I still wish I wasn’t.

I have this connection to this Darkness.  It scares the hell out of me.  I wish I understood it, I wish I could stop it.  Am I pulled towards the Darkness because I, myself, am darkness?  Is it because I am, because I’ve always been bad?  I lose the angel to Lucifer himself, how did I not notice until it was too late?  Why would he leave me like this?  Will I ever get him back?  My head is foggy around the Darkness, but not when it comes to him.  I just wish I could get through to him.  Lucifer taunts me, my heart rips in half.  We get the angel back, but nothing good can last in this life, can it?  God himself returns, I have to sacrifice myself to stop the Darkness.  I’ll do it, because of course I will, if I have an opportunity to do some good, I’ll take it.  The Darkness doesn’t kill me.  She thanks me.

My mother is alive.  It’s everything I’ve always wanted.  I have to learn fast that she’s not what I thought.  That’s hard.  Me and my brother end up in prison for trying to kill Lucifer, and we find out this girl is going to have his kid.  How will we kill someone innocent?  I can’t think about that, I’m a killer, I’ll kill if i have to.   The angel kills a reaper to save me, but what will happen to him?  We start looking for this kid, but do we even want to find it?  The angel nearly dies for me, he tells me, my family he loves us.  I wish I could tell him the same, but the words won’t work right in my brain, so I do what I always do, I look away.  The angel finds the girl, but the kid inside her gets to him, and he runs away from me.  Why does everyone run from me?  We find them just in time to find a rift to another world, and my brother has to drag me away from the angel, who is going to sacrifice himself to kill Lucifer.  He comes back, but before I can say the words I’ve been holding onto for so long, he dies in front of me, only this time, it’s real.  My mom is taken from me too, and I’m left by the angel’s side, staring up at the sky, wondering why, why me?

I bury the angel, my brother insists we can’t kill the kid, even though it’s his fault my mom is gone and the angel is...  I beg God to bring him back, please, bring him back.  You owe me this, please bring him back.  He doesn’t listen.  I’m alone.  We burn the angel, and I try to learn to live with regret and grief and crippling pain all at once.  I hate the kid, this is his fault.  I kill myself again to save some souls, but also because I want to die this time.  I can’t take it anymore.  Death tells me I have work to do, but how much more work can there be?  How much more can I take?  It’s like the Universe reads my mind, because my angel comes back, and it’s like the last few weeks haven’t happened.  I still can’t say the words, but maybe this time I’ll get there.  Maybe this time.  We go to the other world, we save some people, I find my mom.  I let another Michael from the other world possess me to defeat Lucifer, but then I can’t expel him.  Before he shuts me in my memories, I am desperately afraid.

My brother and the angel find me in my own head, the snap me out of it.  I should have known this bar was too good for me, I knew I didn’t deserve it.  I shut Michael in there, but I know I won’t last long. I think I’m too weak to hold him, so I build a box designed to hold me forever.  I dream about it, claw the sides of the wall until my nails are bloody, but if it’s my eternity or Michael’s rule?  I’ll take the ocean every time.  The angel will always try to save me, I still can’t say the words.  The kid, my kid, he destroys Michael, but something is wrong, and I don;t realize until it’s too late.  My mother is dead, at the hands of the kid, and I have never been angrier.  I hate the kid again, I hate the angel too, I hate myself more.  I pull a gun on the kid, but I still can’t pull the trigger.  Sometimes I wish I could put it to my own head.  God comes back, turns out he was the villain all along.  Typical.  He kills our kid.  I can’t let myself feel.

The angel tries to convince me that we’re real.  How can I believe that?  Is everything I am just a story?  Have I ever chosen anything?  Does the angel really care about me?  Do I really care about him?  Another one of our friends dies.  I blame the angel, I push him away, because I can’t look at him if I think what I feel for him might not be real.  I meet up with someone I loved.  He’s a monster now, I have to kill him.  He dies holding me.  I wish I was dead sometimes too.  My brother is sick, he gets kidnapped by God.  I’m spinning in circles.  Me and the angel end up in Purgatory again.  He gets taken from me.  I’m so alone, so scared, I break down in the one place I could get lost in forever searching for the angel, I don’t want to leave him, please, don’t make me leave him.  I have to keep looking, get back to the real world to save my brother.  How will I choose?  Thank god, or, whatever, I find the angel.  I’ll tell him this time, but he stops me.  He must know.  He doesn’t want me, no one wants me.  Why would they?  Chuck has taken everything from me.  I have to kill him, no matter the cost.  The cost is gonna be our kid, raised from the dead by Death.  I guess the one thing we have going for us is we don’t stay dead for long.  I’m ready to let my kid die for my freedom.  My brother stands in the way, I pull a gun on him.  He talks me down, he’s the only one that can.  I decide to take it out on Death, my pain, my anger, my rage.  I take the angel and we find her, she chases us.  Another trap.  I realize that I’ve trapped us both.  Why am I so worthless?

The angel looks at me.  He smiles.  He tells me how worthy I am, that I’m good, that I changed him.  How can I tell him how he changed me.  He tells me he’ll die for loving me.  Then he shouldn’t, I’m not worth his life.  Don’t leave me, please, I can’t lose you, you don’t know what it does it me when you leave me.  He tells me he loves me.  I try to tell him a fraction of the things I feel for him, but it’s too late.  He’s taken before my eyes, and this time I know there’s no getting him back.

I’m left on the floor, unable to move.

This time I know, I’ll never let myself love again, because my heart is so shattered that it’s powdered, there’s no repairing it now.  I’ve always been broken, but this time I’m not just broken: I’m destroyed.

[babyloposts]

MY HERO DAD-CANNONS

Summary: How my favorite boys would react to their child having a nightmare. Some single dad head cannons because my baby fever is back

Includes: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Kaminari Denki, Takami Keigo

Warnings: none, fluff, aged up characters, references to GN parent titles

———————————————————————

Bakugou:

He was up and down the hall as quickly as the first wail left his daughter’s mouth. He was desperately hoping that the screams were not from a villain trying to kidnap her.

He was relieved for only a second as he saw her safely tucked into bed as he left her earlier that night, but the worry came back as he saw her broken out in a cold sweat.

Careful not to startle her awake Katsuki rubbed her forehead gingerly removing the sweat and bangs from its place matted on the top of her head.

“Kid. Wake up.” His tone soft. The one he reserved only for her.

“Daddy?” Her brows furrowed and her eyelashes fluttered open to see a stoic yet comforting face.

“You okay? I think you were having a nightmare. Scared the hell out of me.” He chuckled, still soothing her as her breathing slowed.

“M-me too. I was so scared Dad. The monsters were trying to get me.”

“What monsters?” Katsuki feared the worst. What if she had seen a villain and they knew she was his kid. That could mean she was being watched and in danger. He couldn’t let anything happen to her.

“From the movie dad. The one I watched when hanging out with the Midoriya’s.” Bakugou’s face scrunched and his daughter winced in fear of being in trouble for watching a PG-13 movie.

“What’d I tell you about watching scary movies with Deku’s kid. Now look at you all scared with nightmares.” Bakugou scolded, but his expression softened. He was just glad she was safe.

“I’m sorry Dad. I won’t watch scary movies anymore. I don’t want any monsters to get me.”

“It’s okay. I promise I won’t let any monsters get you. They have to go through me first, alright squirt.” She nodded and gave Bakugou a small smile, knowing she was safe and in the most capable hands of the #2 hero.

Bakugou smoothed her hair back and placed a kiss to her forehead. “Love you squirt. Sweet Dreams.”

“I love you too Dad.”

———————————————————————

Midoriya:

Izuku is no stranger to weird dreams, but he had never expected his One for All induced visions to transfer to his daughter as well.

He wouldn’t even know if she hadn’t been weeping by his bedside at one in the morning.

“D-daddy.” A small voice warbled out next to Midoriya. His eyes shot open not expecting to see a teary eyed five year old only a few inches away from his face.

“What’s wrong Bubby?” Izuku quickly sat up in bed and moved to the edge of the bed, scooping the crying child into his arms.

“I had a bad dream.” She whimpered as he wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Aww I’m sorry.” He hugged her tightly to his chest rocking slightly to soothe her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She nodded slightly before starting. “I was so scared Daddy. You were there and somebody—a bad man—stole your quirk away from you. He was too strong. And nobody would help you. Not even All Might. And I was too little to help you, Daddy and I’m so sorry.” And just like that the tears were flowing from her tear ducts again.

Izuku shushed her and started back trying to soothe her again. “Don’t worry, I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere.” He brought his daughter back to her bedroom and tucked her into her Princess themed bed. “Are you comfy?” She asked and she nodded.

Izuku gave her a kiss to her temple before getting up to move to a bookshelf on the far side of the room. “Would you like to hear a story?” She nodded and Izuku climbed into the side of the bed and wrapped his arm around her.

Midoriya read the story book to her that were more kiddie versions of some of All Might’s best missions (even in fatherhood he was a total fanboy).

His daughter was knocked before he was even halfway through the book, the tales of heroism and safety lulling her into a peaceful sleep. Although she was peaceful and very cute Izuku had realized his grave mistake far too late.

His daughter was the lightest sleeper he knew. It would be almost impossible to remove himself from the bed without waking her up.

He tried several times to stand from the bed without causing her to stir, but ultimately failed and gave in to the reality that he’d be spending the night on the edge of a twin bed.

It wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but Izuku would give up anything for his little girl, even the comforts of his own bed, to make her feel safe.

———————————————————————

Kaminari:

It took a lot to get Denki up, which wasn’t always a good thing having such a young child to look after. He was finally awoken by the third kick to his ribs by a little foot in bed.

“Ouch, what the-?” Denki whipped the blanket down to reveal a small body in the fetal position hunched against his side.

“Wha- hey Little Man. What happened? Why aren’t you sleeping in your big kid bed?”

The small boy was unmoving, pretending to be asleep to prevent being bothered or moved from his comfortable position.

“I know you’re not sleep, Buddy. Tell me what’s wrong. Please?” Finally Denki’s son’s head poked up from his arm shields and showed off his pouty face.

“I don’t want to sleep in my big kid. It’s too dark and scary in there. I don’t want to have bad dreams.” The child’s eyes started to water.

Denki sighed. “Bud, I thought we agreed that when you turned four you’d stop sleeping in Papa’s bed and sleep by yourself.”

“I don’t want to anymore. I’m scared. It’s too dark and you are too far away.” He whined. Denki knew that he was the age where he needed to start being able to self-soothe and sleep by himself, but he couldn’t deny his son. He was a good kid, maybe with a bit of separation anxiety, but all around he was pretty easy.

Denki’s nanny would probably scold him for babying his son, but he didn’t care. It’s not like Denki liked sleeping alone anyway.

“Bud, you can’t sleep down in the covers like that. You’ll get way too hot.” A small smile spread over Denki’s lips as his son shuffled his way up onto Denki’s chest with his arms wrapped around his neck in a death grip.

Denki chuckled once the grip loosened and rubbed his son’s back as he slipped into sleep. “Can we try sleeping in your big kid bed tomorrow night?” Denki whispered.

“I’ll try Papa, but no promises.” Denki chuckled and closed his eyes in content.

“That’s okay Buddy. I love you.”

“Love you too, Papa.”

———————————————————————

Takami Keigo:

Keigo really hoped that an intruder wasn’t in the house right now. He knew it was irrational to think, but stranger things have happened, plus he was already worked up from the last patrol he went on last night where he fought a surprisingly difficult villain.

Stealthily Kei climbed out of bed and sent a feather flying into the kitchen where the noise was coming from to scope out the intruder.

When he heard a high pitched scream and low thud he was actually more relieved than worried.

He rushed from behind his bedroom door out to see his son sat on the ground in front of the open refrigerator.

“The hell are you doing up? It’s 2 AM!” Keigo whisper yelled to ensure he didn’t bother the neighbors.

“Sorry Dad. I was hungry.”

“What are you still hungry for? You basically ate a whole chicken by yourself for dinner. At this rate keeping up with your eating habits cost more than the rent.” Takami chided, but he couldn’t be too mad, his son was a growing boy and they needed their sustenance.

“I’m sorry Dad. I just woke up and wanted a snack that’s all.” That’s what he said, but the glossiness in his son’s eyes gave him away.

Keigo bent over to pick up the food that had fallen out of the fridge and grab a carton of ice cream out of the freezer along with two spoons. His son watched his father intently as he moved to the kitchen island to sit and patted the stool next to him.

“Come sit down and have your snack.” Keigo sighed. Reluctantly his son sat down beside him and grabbed a spoon scooping into the slightly freezer burnt cookies and cream.

“So tell me what’s really going on. You wouldn’t tear up just from me knocking you on your ass earlier.” His son’s eyes grew wide, surprised that his dad had noticed that small detail.

“There’s nothing wrong.”

“I know when you’re lying to me Kid. So just go ahead and tell me.” Kei said wrapping an arm around his son’s shoulders.

He took a deep breath before finally caving. “I... I had a dream about Baba. When they died.” Keigo’s usual cocky demeanor faded away and his eyes softened as he recalled the painful memory.

“Wow.” Keigo said as he cleared his throat. “That uh... hasn’t happened for a while. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault Dad. I just wished... I don’t know. I just miss them a lot.” He began to tear up again. Keigo sighed. It has been almost seven years since his significant other died tragically from cancer. Their son was just a kid then. What Five year old can really comprehend that and grieve a parent properly. Since then Kei’s been doing his best as a single Dad, but maybe he should have talked about them more.

“I know you miss them Kid. I do too. I miss them everyday, but you remind me of them. You’ve got the same face and spirit they had, so it’s like a little piece of ‘em is always with us. They’re in you.” Keigo’s grip tightened around his son’s shoulder and he left a comforting rub up and down his forearm.

“I know sayin all this isn’t going to bring them back, but just know they’re always in your heart and they loved you very much.”

“Thanks Dad.”

“No problem Kid. Just finish your ice cream and get to bed. I don’t want you late for school in the morning.”

His son nodded. Keigo stood from the island and ruffled the hair of his son before depositing his dirty spoon in the sink. Before he made it all the way to his bedroom a voice rang out behind him.

“I love you Dad.”

Keigo smiled softly. “Love you too Kid.”

[charcubed]

Let's talk about Supernatural 15x07, "Last Call."

Or as I like to call it, "the episode that makes me go feral because it tells us so much about Dean's sexuality, character, and arc." 

YES others have written meta! YES I will talk about it myself for the satisfaction! I LOVE IT SO MUCH.

This post was originally a thread on Twitter and I am crossposting it to my blog.

Alt image IDs are included in that linked Twitter thread!

Join me on this journey.

What's the context of this episode? Dean's been kind of down/depressed, feeling hopeless in the face of the idea that they have to defeat God (and not really working towards that goal much), and he's mid-divorce with Cas. He goes out on this solo case to try to clear his head.

And he ends up at Swayze's Bar. 

 Look, there are many things to be said about this. Dean loves Patrick Swayze. Arguably has a CRUSH on Swayze. It's very tied up in Dean pretending not to like "chick flicks" but he secretly does, which is queer coding. This was a Choice™️.

Speaking of Choices™️: professional actors made many here. Deliberately. 

 Dean is smacked on the ass by a woman and then Lee smacks him on the ass too. Dean and Lee CONSTANTLY have physical familiarity and fond eye contact. I will limit myself to 1 paragraph about this lest I list it all.

My point is that I just really need every person to digest and accept the fact that this is textually bi Dean. Not subtext; it's TEXT. 

Dean and Lee had a relationship. Their history is alluded to in touch and in words. They had an orgy together. Dean's bisexuality is not repressed.

It's also now canon that Dean tries to hide that he can sing well. Most people don't know (like Sam) but some do (Lee). Hence "Eye of the Tiger" callback.

And so: that's also the implication for his sexuality. Dean singing ON STAGE with bi lighting is him being ready to be Out.

They dedicated an entire half an ep at minimum to emphasizing he's bi... and to Dean having a conversation with someone he (initially) trusts about potentially having a break from hunting, and what that could mean.

LEE: You're chasing missing persons, huh? I thought you'd be on to something bigger by now, like the Loch Ness Monster... Bigfoot.

DEAN: Trust me, uh, bigger doesn't always equal better. Besides, who's gonna look out after the little guy? God certainly isn't.

LEE: Damn, brother, that's dark.

DEAN: Yeah, it's been a rough, uh... it's been a rough decade, Lee.

LEE: Yeah.

DEAN: But that's a conversation for a different time, 'cause this, this right here, this is all right.

LEE: Well, I'm glad you approve. This is nothing you can't have, man.

DEAN: Oh, come on. Who's gonna kill the bad guys?

LEE: Somebody else. Dean, how many lives you think you saved, huh? Hundreds? Thousands? You deserve a break, bro. Hell, you might even deserve two.

"But Lee turns out to be a villain!" some might say. "Isn't the point that giving up hunting is bad?" 

Nope. 

Lee's a DARK MIRROR for Dean. He exists to exhibit the truths behind Dean's desires, and then what they'd look like if they turned bad. Take it from him: "I am you."

There are LAYERS here. You can't focus on the dark side and ignore the truths that take place in the (often bi) light. 

The singing? The conversations about taking a break? Throwing men out of the bar, which is framed heroically? "Road House rules" (another Choice™️)?

NONE of that was bad. It shows what Dean wants. 

Things only get bad–literally and visually–when Dean's tied up as Lee suddenly says wrong things in the dark. 

The contrast exists to show that maintaining Goodness is a choice, and Dean would have no problem upholding that.

LEE: It's called a marid. It's a freaky-looking little thing, isn't it? [Lee laughs, and Dean stares at him, incredulous] Ah. As long as you feed it, it gives you money, it gives you health, everything you dreamed of.

DEAN: And so, what, it just costs innocent lives?

LEE: Dean, you and I both know no one's innocent. After everything we've done, aren't... aren't we owed a little happiness, huh? Don't we deserve that much?

DEAN: Listen to yourself. "We're owed." "We deserve." Come on, man. You're not God. Hell, God's not even God.

LEE: Good or bad... the world doesn't care. No one cares, Dean.

DEAN: Well, I do.

LEE: Yeah. And that's what got you here. Now, takes a while to drain a man, but listen to me. Don't worry about it, all right? Don't worry because once you lose a couple of pints, you just fall asleep, and then it'll be over.

[Lee pats Dean on the shoulder]

DEAN: Lee.

LEE: This... this is not how I wanted this to go, Dean. When that blonde girl walked in here last night, I should've know, you know, Dean Winchester, the righter of wrongs, you were gonna keep digging, and you were gonna figure me out. And if it's got to be you or me, well, I got to pick me, man.

"No one cares, Dean."

"Well, I do."

It's a reminder to himself as much as it is to Lee. It's a re-centering of purpose that he sorely needs.

And what's also key? Lee is human, but is now a "monster" in Dean's words. Because Lee lost his ability to care, Dean can't abide by that.

(Side note: bonus for the fact that Lee dies up against a wall by being impaled and he coughs up blood. You know who doesn’t cough up blood in their very weird and unrealistic death scene? Dean in the finale.)

Remember: Lee is a dark mirror for Dean. "I am you." 

By fighting and (tragically) killing Lee, Dean "kills" the darker side of himself. The side that's struggling to keep going right now... AND the side that fears eventually wanting a break means you must be selfish and stop caring.

He can keep going. He can find strength to fight God–and in the end, take a break and CHOOSE peace. It won't make him dark. He's the most caring man on Earth, even when it's hard. That’s reinforced later. 

Isn't he owed a little happiness? And that's not in the having. It's in just being.

The bonus is what's going on with Cas in this episode. 

Dean's clearing his head and finding his center again while Cas is calling him. 

Come home. I need you. Remember what matters.

And again, contrast: Lee turns out not to be "real/true" in the way Dean thought he was. But Cas IS.

And after Dean goes through all of this... he's grounded again, he recognizes that even amongst questions of what God controls there are still choices to be made, he's reminded that letting his caring heart lead him is priority, he's lost another friend... 

He comes home to Cas.

It's awkward. They're still distanced. 

But this episode is a turning point for Dean. He's not angry at Cas anymore, he wants to talk, he's ready to move forward... he just doesn't know how to yet.

And if you follow the through-line... then you get Rowena saying "fix it"... and then after that is the Purgatory prayer.

I just !!! 

S15 is packed with Dean development to hone in towards the end of his arc, but "Last Call" manages to hit SO many buttons. 

• He's always been bi, & is ready to be Out

• He can want a break–& maybe run a bar like the Roadhouse

• Caring is at the core of who he is

It's about the CHOICE. It's about wanting to live your truths, and that "caring" can mean many things–from defeating God and saving the world, to making the hard choices when it counts, to maybe running a bar where people are safe.

14x10 and its matching Texan Star also say hello:

DEAN: How come you always have a boyfriend?

PAMELA: How come you only want what you can't have?

DEAN: Whoa.

PAMELA: Besides, you don't want me. You just like to flirt. I'm a psychic, so I kinda know.

DEAN: All right.

PAMELA: So, still not ready to sell the bar, huh? It's a lot of money.

DEAN: Sell? This bar? This is my dream.

PAMELA; Yeah.

And I recognize that rereading this info is sad(der) now because of what we got in the end, so uh... sorry. 

But that's half the point: it's repeatedly blatantly clear what we were meant to get, down to deliberate echoes in word choice–caring, happiness, deserve, even Roadhouse.

Dean was meant to choose to take a break, maybe run a bar–whether on Earth or in Heaven. At minimum, if Dean was meant to end up in Heaven, he was meant to choose it with eyes wide open. And the next time the phone rang with Cas' name (15x19), he RAN for him. He was VERY ready.

And the whole season tells you that. This episode is just my favorite.

So... thanks for letting me ramble on about it!!! 

DEAN WINCHESTER: BI ICON, ONCE-LOVER OF LEE WEBB, THE MOST CARING MAN ON EARTH WHO DESERVED TO CHOOSE PEACE AFTER GAINING HIS FREEDOM, & SOULMATE TO AN ANGEL

And a very big thank you to the talented kings Jensen Ackles & Christian Kane, and their longstanding friendship. They gave me many rights with their acting choices. 

Here's an iconic bonus for the road.