#one of his later movies showed black people surviving zombies in the hood in their own culturally protected space

[sleepynegress]

Girl the cowrie shells are back on Michonne's locs, she had two just before the 6 years time jump before she had RJ, now she has 3...👀

Heheh. Yeah, I saw a post a while back showing the cowrie shells were worn before when Michonne was preggers and yep. Another bun in the oven. I hope they have another doctor there help the new kiddo out.

[tempesthound]

I tilt my body to the side as I move my motorcycle between the dead cars on the highway; the wind hits the top half of my face, making my eyes water a little. I have to slow my bike to a stop as I got to the highest point on this stretch of road. I could see just what I had come to: a traffic jam. Pulling my hood off my head, I take a drink from my canteen, swishing the stale water around in my mouth before swallowing. It had been a month tops since humanity’s extinction event, and looking around, you would think it had been years. I look inside the car beside me; a corpse laid forward, its head on the steering wheel. It had smashed into the front end of the vehicle. I guessed this lady must have broken her neck upon impact. Pulling my scarf over my nose, I grab my hunting knife and open the door, dragging the lady out. I gagged a little as I searched her body, then the inside of the car. A box of pop tarts under the driver’s seat bless whoever is listening. Popping the trunk, I find a knitted blanket, some chapstick, a backpack with some girl products, which is always an excellent find. I check a few more cars and find a few things before I siphon some gas into my bike. It gave me a few minutes to think about it before.

“Ali, be careful. I heard about some strange attacks happening lately; why don’t you extend your brake a little, tell these attacks to cool down,” Sam says as she touches my arm with a concerned look in her eyes. I sigh, and roll my eyes as I lean on the hood of my car. “I will be fine. My dad didn’t spend years and hours training me just for me to fail at stopping some attacker. Also, I worked too hard to get into this college not to go; I’ll be fine, and it’s just four days from here. If it gets crazy, I’ll come back out to this middle of Nowhere town.”

I should have stayed looking back now; it wasn’t even three weeks later that the world went to hell; I had been making my way back to my hometown. My entire life, I had made jokes about being ‘Zombie apocalypse ready,’ so when I saw the signs, I emptied my bank account on supplies. Water purifiers, battery packs, a few MRE rations, first aid kits, things like that. Then I got in my car and drove, staying off the highways. I headed for the backwoods, but first, I had to go through Missouri. There I lost my car but gained my bike, which I hated for the exposure but loved the gas I saved using it. I heard about the safe zone in Atlanta. Did I believe in it? No. Shaking my head, I cap off my small gas can and strap it down in the saddlebag that I had on the side of my bike, putting everything else in my bag. I get on my bike and start it up. I look around before I take off-putting in one headphone. I start my music, something I had because of several battery packs that were my veritable treasures to keep my phone working for as long as possible.

I slowly drove up to what looks like it was once a camping zone. I parked my bike against a tree. I cover it in the tattered blanket. Then I climbed the tree, wrapping a rope around myself to keep myself from falling out. “Best place to sleep for tonight,” I say as I bunker down, wrapping my arms around myself along with a heavy hoodie for warmth.

Nights like this always made me think back to the good times, times before the dead were ripping into every living creature.

I turn on the news it was, talking about violent attacks worldwide for the past few days. The attacks didn’t sound like they were going to let up soon.

As the news on the riots ended, I shake my head; this was like the start of a cliché horror movie. People broke into Walmarts, riots in food stores, people stalking up on guns and the needed ammo.

“Uncle Jhonny is laughing in his grave now,” I say to my mom, who is humming away in the kitchen, my youngest brother Luke, on her hip like the monkey he was. “Alice!” my mother lightly scolds me. “He called it; he said we would kill ourselves before anything else” I look at the photo of a fiery red-haired male with a smile stretched cheek to cheek as he holds a golden-haired girl with matching green eyes. That was one of the good days when cancer hadn’t eaten away at his bones and taken his mind. “You remind me of him; all his crazy theories filled your head, Rabit” I turn to face the angelic voice of my mother, her little monkey fast asleep in her arms, a smile on her face as she called me that.

Looking back now, it was days like this that I would miss the simple days, days at home with Luke and Mom. Days when my only trouble was school and work; Now I had to worry about walkers and, worst of all, those who survived.

I lean my head back against the tree; I ignore the tears running down my dirty face. Once clean, pale, freckled skin now always smeared with dirt and sweat. The golden blonde hair my mother loved a greasy mess. No, I knew tonight the demons in my mind would keep me awake.

Faster move, don’t stop, don’t look back, when someone is chasing you, you never look back, it raises the risk of you tripping over something in front of you. The words of my trained military father fill my head. My lungs cry out for air, my legs are all but jelly under me, but I can’t risk stopping now. They are too close. The screeches and groans of the man-eaters chasing me are enough to push me past the limits of my weak body. Days of rationing, my food, and water have left me malnourished. So I force myself until the air I’m taking in no longer reaches my brain or muscles. The branches of trees cut at my exposed skin as I push them out of my way, growing dizzier. I jump over a fallen log and stumble as I reach the other side, my legs finally giving out on me.

The once faint sounds of the walking dead now all too close, The dead woman trips over the log falling on top of me, its jaws snapping at me, its grotesque graying skin falling off in places, hollow eyes stare at me, dried pieces of something in its teeth. Reaching for the hunting knife in my boot, I use one hand to hold it by its throat as my hand easily slips through the decaying flesh above me. I turn my head and, using all the force I can, slamming my knife through the temple of the thing’s head, the spray of black blood that hits my cheek and chest is thick and smells worse than rotten eggs. This dead thing that was once alive woman falls like the dead weight she is. I pull myself from under her and lean against the log. The other dead seem to have forgotten me or too far behind for my exhausted body to care.

I don’t know how long I sat there, slowly letting my body catch up to my mind, letting it rest. I had run over five miles of unknown terrain on a body that hasn’t eaten or drank anything in three days. I sat there staring at the dead thing. It had the burned body of a woman. Half her face is gone. It was missing some hair, and it smelled of rotten pork, which made my stomach grumble in emptiness. I pull my bag and look in it. I had a protein bar half-eaten and half a water bottle with boiled river water in it. “Yummy,” I say half heartily.

The woman she probably hadn’t turned over three weeks ago, maybe four. I shake my head and stand my legs, only wobble a little before they decide to work with me instead of against me. My lungs no longer feel like they will jump out of my chest, and my throat doesn’t feel like it’s bleeding. I finish my water, shoving the bottle in my bag—no need to add litter to the decaying world.

Keeping my eyes and ears open as I’m walking munching on the protein bar, it wasn’t more than maybe half an hour when I hear the men’s voices, the sounds of their heavy footfalls and wolf whistles that fill the air in a dangerous song. I stop moving the sound of my feet on the dry leaves on the ground go silent, but the others take a moment, dropping my bar. My movements are quick reaching for the pistole that I had in a hostler on my hip. I pull it out, cock it, and keep walking. Spotting one man, then another, I can hear one more before I pick up my pace, and I sprint. That’s when the chorus of cheers and the chase truly began.

The men are faster than the bitters are they can think and plan when I zig, they zag, I dance through the woods, monitoring the two men at my sides, not daring to slow down, I’m coming up to an opening in the trees, no place to hide, no safety. It’s a battleground. As I break through the woods, I feel two arms grab me wrapping in me in a menacing hug.

I slam my foot down and throw my head and elbows back. I hear the satisfying crunch and groan of an injured man.

“Bitch” The unknown man says as I jump forward, the gun pointed at the man’s head.

“Back off, I know how to use this,” I growl out. I keep backing away from the man, his buddies showing up, their weapons raised. They all looked like the stereotype of an inbreed hilly billy, ratty matted, unwashed hair, and overalls. One even had a potbelly, the man who grabbed me had smelled like he never washed even before the downfall of humanity., none of them had guns. Still, three against one isn’t in my favor, no matter the training, not when my body wasn’t at its peak.

“Three against one honey, come with us nice and quiet, and maybe just maybe you get out of this alive” Lie, I won’t survive what they have planned for me, my body might survive, but my mind won’t. I pull the trigger and shoot the man who grabbed me.I can’t hesitate not when my life is on the line.

“MATTIE, You killed my brother!” Pot-belly yelled he came at me first, and I shot him in his chest twice with two quick pulls of the trigger. I had three bullets left with Potbelly down. I quickly aim at the other one. He came at me at once. Brown hair sticking to his sweaty skin, his arms spread out wide. I brace myself for the hit from him. He takes me to the ground, my gun falling from my hands and away from the us.

He hits my sides and face as I struggle under his weight; I bring my knee up between his legs as he grabs at my leather jacket, pulling at it, trying to tear it off my body; just as my knee reaches his third leg, he holds my hair. Pulling it as he groans, I claw at his face as he slams his fist on my face again. When I scream, he hits my head into the ground. I use my arm to feel around for my knife, my finger brush against the smooth metal at my thigh; he holds my arm down, stopping my movements; I squirm myself under the man as he feels up my body pulling at my thin tee shirt. I bring my head up and slam it against his face. I feel the blood run down my forehead. He falls backward, and groans as my fingers hook around the hilt of the hunting knife. I jump on top of him and slam the blade into the man’s face three times; I bring it down until he stops moving bright red blood, sprays against my face covering my hands and chest, my jacket hangs loosely off my shoulder, my white shirt torn and bloody. I’m still on top of the dead man when I hear a whistle.

“Well, damn, look at these boys” The voice was cocky, and as I turn, I can see why he was tall with a thick beard and messy black hair, a leather jacket hung with grace off his shoulders, a baseball bat with barbed wire wrapped around it like a Christmas tree lights in his left hand. He screamed Alpha male; he was dangerous. The five men behind him didn’t intimidate me as much as he did and the guns they all held.

“Take one step closer. I fucking dare you” I spit out a mix of my blood my victims and slowly stand adrenaline coursing through my veins, my blood knife held in my hand.

“Now wait a damn minute, we’re not here to hurt you, Doll,” Alpha male said as I move away from my bloody victim, picking up the gun not a few inches away from where I shot Potbelly, who was groaning and moving again. I slam my booted foot down on his head over and over, cursing him to hell.

“Then I can leave you and your men, stay there, bury your friends here, and I will go. They would be alive if they didn’t try to kidnap and then rape me.” I feel my adrenaline high slowly coming down; my body suddenly feels very heavy after killing the last attacker I need to get out of here. I walk away from the bodies. My gun still pointed at the Alpha man and his team.

“Names Negan Doll and those sad sacks of shit ain’t my men Number one rule to run with me, no rape,” Alpha man or rather Negan says.

“Then you’re not here because I just brutely beat and shot your men,” I say, lowering my weapon and taking a deep breath, the entire ordeal finally catching up to my brain. I have just been violated, it hasn’t even been a month since the world ended, and people were already taking and killing people. I had just killed someone. I killed three someone’s

“No, in fact, I like a woman who can handle herself,” Negan said his men, relaxing at the sight that I had lowered my gun on their boss. Negan takes this as a sign to walk closer to me. He was a good foot taller than me and huge muscles, no fat on his body covered in denim and leather. Almond brown eyes and a dimple smirk.

“God, Doll, you’re a mess; how about you come with my men and me? We have a nice little house not too far from here. You can wash up, relax, have something to eat. No one will hurt you as long as you’re with me.”

I tilt my head up and look at the unknown man. He pulls out a scarf from his jacket, and cautiously he raises his hand to clean the blood off my face.

“Your one badass woman just kicked a bitter’s head in, took down three shit heads all by yourself, got me all tingly in all the right places” Is he flittering with me right now? Negan is wiping blood human blood off my face and flirting with me, and he’s not scared of me at all. He finished wiping off all that could be when he offers me his hand.

“Come on, Doll, let me take care of you.”

Negan was my savior that day, and we filled the days that followed with flirty words and sarcastic comebacks. We fought but grew closer. He never treated me like I was fragile, never made me stay back when the Bitters came. I was a warrior in his eyes, and he treated me like a queen.

“Never hide from me, Alice, you are a warrior, you are a survivor, a badass built for this world, never forget that”

Then that day happened, the day that the world reminded me that nothing in the apocalypse is safe; nothing is forever.

We had grown in number more men, and the youngest one was 17. I was no longer the youngest in the group, and we moved on from the small farmhouse to just being on the road. We had stopped for the day one scout had spotted a mall that appeared not to have gotten raided. The cars were waiting for their owners to come back to them< I was apprehensive about going into the mall if the vehicles were still there, then where were the people or bitters.

“Don’t worry, Ali-cat, Lucille will watch out for you,” Negan said. I glared at the six-foot-one man.

“I’m not scared, just worried you can’t be too careful, Bossman,” I say, poking his chest; he grabs my hand and kisses it.

“No need to worry, Doll, this will be easy in and out.”

If only that were true, if he had just listened to me, we would still be together.

When we got in, it was quiet, and Negan made it known that he was right; the mall was safe. We were laughing and grinning, going in and out of stores gathering supplies. His men kept a respectful distance behind us. Negan takes my hand and pulls me into an open Forever 21, where Negan is pulling out dresses and heels. I roll my eyes and look around, my eyes falling on a perfect gift for him.

“Hey, look what I found,” I say as I hold up a red scarf as Negan holds out a black choker with a golden letter ‘N’ hanging from the middle.

“I found you something as well,” He says as we swap gifts, “Help me put it on,” I feel his warm hands brush my golden blond hair over my shoulder, slipping the black felt choker over my neck clasping it in place.

We walk around just a little more when we hear the tell groans and moans of the dead outside one door of the indoor theater; we look at each other and head back to the group. I drop Negan’s hand as I see one of the younger guys; Gary reaches for the theater room’s main doors. “DOn’t,” I yell just as he opens the doors; it was too late. He pulled both doors open; the swarm of Biters that came out was overwhelming. We didn’t stand a chance. All we could do was scatter. I feel Negans rough hand grab for mine, but then the dead get between us. It wrenched Negan from me. The sounds of our men’s guns overran the mall, firing shots and the screams of those who were ripped and torn apart. I see Negan’s beloved bat coming down on the heads of the monsters and the men who were too late to be spared as he and the inner circle of men make their way out. “ALICE!” his voice calls out as I pull my knife from the skull of another Bitter “NEGAN, I’LL FIND YOU, I SWEAR,” I call out as I push myself to the main door shooting three more bitters in the head.

“STAY ALIVE DOLL” I hear his voice one last time before I make my way out the fire door of the mall. Stay alive; that was his final order to me: stay alive for Negan for my savior. I make my way to the woods, one hand reaching to touch the necklace at my throat. The sounds of the dead following me as I found myself back at the beginning alone and chased by the deceased.

[ayellowbirds]

Keshet Rewatches All of Scooby-Doo, Pt. 26: “The Dynamic Scooby-Doo Affair”

("The New Scooby-Doo Movies", Season 1 Episode 2. Original Airdate: 9/16/1972)

AKA, "Bat-Milk? BAT-MILK?"

While this episode was broadcast and released on video with the title above, surviving storyboards show that the title was intended to be spelled as “The Dynamic Scooby-Duo Affair”, making the wordplay clearer.

As the episode begins, the Mystery Machine hits a bump in the road and the lights go out. While Fred attempts a repair, Daphne worries about reaching their destination.

Yes, it’s the first formal recognition of the gang as anything more than a bunch of friends who do this on the side. While we don’t see anything of the Mystery Club convention itself, the idea that the kids were headed to one suggests that their amateur sleuthing has gone from something they fall into by accident as a result of running into mysteries wherever they go, and into the realm of a lifelong obsession. They’re not “Mystery Inc” just yet, but they’re close.

While Fred promises he can repair the Mystery Machine without losing time, Scooby and Shaggy hear something frightening... ominous music! No, really, the sound editing in this scene is terrible, and the music that cuts in almost completely drowns out the sound of an approaching airplane, flying so low over the road that it comes within mere feet of the roof of the van.

Investigating reveals that the plane has landed without lights in the middle of the night, and two men drive out of it in a jeep loaded down with an enormous wooden crate. The gang take a shortcut, and find that the crate has been dropped off at an abandoned-looking old house, where it’s been nailed down to the floor with leather straps. In fact, as the gang try to hide from a sudden sound of someone approaching, they find that everything is nailed down.

But they have no reason to fear those who enter the house:

Because it’s the guileless, friendly and gentle-mannered Seventies Batman who enters, along with the Boy Wonder. In spite of the gang’s incredibly suspicious appearance, a bat-shaped transitional wipe is all it takes for Batman to explain that he and Robin were on patrol—bat-patrol—in nearby Gotham City (the location of the Mystery Club convention? It would be appropriate), when they were alerted to the unlit aircraft and suspected smugglers. It’s the second episode in a row to suggest a specific location for the events, placing most of the episode in and near Gotham. 

Just as they’re about to investigate the crate, someone comes out from upstairs.

Attentive viewers will have most of the mystery solved by noticing this suspicious character’s first appearance as a hooded figure, though as she lights her lamp, she’s revealed as a little old lady, Mrs. Baker.

Baker claims to have never seen the crate before—figuring that, like the gang, someone assumed her house was abandoned due to its condition—and even reacts to Batman and Robin like they were ordinary strangers in need of assistance, rather than colorfully costumed crime-fighters. This would be suspicious enough, but like i said, 70s TV Batman is guileless. He suspects nothing and has a kind word for almost everyone.

The contents of the crate are revealed as a stand-up “punch clown”, one of those inflatable bottom-heavy types designed to keep bouncing back as you bop it. Batman hurls the clown away, and then slaps his hands on his waist in a brave and bold pose. “An amusing toy,” he declares. If this show was a bit more clever, I’d say he was covering for freaking out at the sight of a clown.

Scooby plays a bit with the doll, but one particularly solid swing knocks its noggin right off, revealing that it’s not full of air... it’s stuffed with money! Batman picks up a bill. “Just as I suspected,” he declares. “Counterfeit. A masterpiece of duplication, except for one tiny slip-up.”

It’s an artistic error almost as embarrassing as Batman’s hands suddenly having no gloves. And Batman should know. He’s fought alongside Lincoln.

In spite of having faced counterfeiters before, the gang are astonished at the idea of phony money, and join Batman in the search for the culprits as Mrs. Baker tells them that the jeep’s tire tracks must lead back to a nearby auto junkyard—next to the old cemetery, of course. Baker claims people fear that human ghosts haunt the "auto graveyard” as a result.

The problem with this scenario is that they saw the plane leave, and had no reason to suspect that the jeep wasn’t loaded back onto it. Even so, they find it almost right away at the junkyard, and start looking for the driver. As the gang and the Dynamic Duo split up and start looking around, the poor nighttime lighting leads to lots of mistaken identity antics involving a cloaked figure that is quite obviously Mrs. Baker again. Some differences in the design of her cloak and robe don’t obscure that it’s in the same colors as before... 

...which seems to be another error, because Shaggy refers to this “sneaky little” figure as wearing a black hood. Batman winds up saving Shaggy and Scooby from being compacted along with a car, and Fred attempts to wrestle the cloaked figure away from the controls of the crane that dropped them there, but winds up wearing a mask like the one under the hood, and he’s mistaken for the culprit himself.

Now that Fred knows how it feels to have a mask abruptly pulled from one’s head, will he be more understanding and cautious when unmasking "monsters”? Unlikely, considering he eventually winds up pulling a zombie’s head right off its neck.

When the gang go back to check Mrs. Baker’s house, the entire building has vanished. Fred and Velma are certain that they’re looking at the right location, but it’s just an empty field with some trees. Well, that’s what we’re supposed to see, but the view never pans beyond the gang looking at the scene. It’s not until much later that we actually see what this scene was supposed to so dramatically convey. 

Batman, the Dark Knight Detective, has one guess as to what’s happened:

That’s right, Batman’s first guess is that there never was a house, nor a Mrs. Baker. Instead, they were all mesmerized to think they had entered a nonexistent building and interacted with a woman who wasn’t there. The only problem with that notion is that the Batmobile is gone, too. 

Batman quietly retires his hypothesis.

Fortunately, the Batmobile has a tracker! The gang offer to be blindfolded while Batman and Robin drive the Mystery Machine to the Batcave to check the Bat-Computer, and because a trend has been established, Batman offers a hungry Shaggy a snack of Bat-Milk and cookies.

Yes, Bat-Milk.

And cookies.

Scooby eats the whole thing and slurps down Shaggy’s milk when he’s not looking. A loyal canine friend.

The Batmobile is tracked to the Gotham City Amusement Park, stopped right in front of a building dedicated to Batman and Robin. The Dynamic Duo conclude that the thief is disposing of the Batmobile there so it could be mistaken as part of the exhibits, hiding it in plain sight.

The car is just fine, parked right in front of the exhibition building, and Shaggy and Scooby offer to sit and wait—and play at being Batman and Robin themselves—in the car while the others look for clues. Which is fortunate, because it lets them spot the carjackers in the attraction across the way.

Fred figures the punch clown is “practically the Joker’s calling card,” and it seems like the case is solved. It’s now up to just Batman and Robin to take down these dangerous criminals, while the gang wait safely outside. What follows is a series of antics as the two villains manipulate their amusement park Haunted House hideout from its control room, trading quips and barbs with each other. A sampling:

Erase your doubts, my web-footed friend.

Why the raucous outburst of mirth, you babbling buffoon?

My fine feathered friend, I shall achieve my goal with a white-sheeted ghoul.

Now, Pengy-wengy....

...my rakish rogue.

Zoinks it, this episode is making me ship the Joker and the Penguin.

Batman and Robin don’t fall for any of the sound effects ("recorded on tape by talented, professional thespians”, Batman insists) or the Joker’s “ghoul” (“nothing more than an ordinary bed sheet, and a cheap one, at that”), but the Joker manages to bait them into a deep pit simply by broadcasting his voice to make it sound like it came from behind a trap door. When the gang move in to see what’s keeping Batman and Robin, the crooks turn their attention to them, instead.

It’s the second episode in a row with scenes in an amusement park, and shockingly, it’s the first of the two to actually make use of that. Antics ensue, but not before Shaggy has a moment of clarity, wondering how it is that Scooby gets the reward of Scooby Snacks while he has to deal with the spooky situations alongside him, with no compensation.

Scooby has a simple answer, gesturing to his brains.

I’m astonished this didn’t become a meme.

The Hanna-Barbera laugh tracks start to wear really thin during these "funhouse” scenes, often playing in scenes with no apparent joke except “the boys are scared by a legitimately dangerous, scary situation”.

Eventually, the criminals resort to dressing up in skeleton costumes to frighten the gang off. Because, you know, being notorious criminals wanted for violent acts wasn’t enough, they had to put on bargain store Halloween costumes.

Astonishingly ,everyone except Fred buys into it, and the gang flee for a solid few seconds before Scooby abruptly stops, turns around, and starts talking about “DELICIOUS-LOOKING BONES!”

The horrifyingly hungry hound manages to chase the Joker and the Penguin right into the pit where they trapped Batman and Robin, and the crooks are caught. The Joker’s wordplay throughout this is actually decently clever, something you don’t see in later incarnations, and the Penguin has a habit of alliteration that makes his lines pleasing to the ear. They wind up being the most enjoyable villains so far...

But they’re not the final culprits. Someone called them anonymously and arranged for real cash payment in exchange for the punch clowns. They know nothing about the vanishing house, and don’t seem to care who has been funneling counterfeit cash to them.

Batman and Robin open the front door to reveal a pair of Gotham City detectives. “Gentlemen, you may take them away!”

So, the Joker and Penguin start to drag off the detectives.

No wonder this city needs superheroes.

Everyone’s worried about Mrs. Baker, “that poor, sweet old lady”. But the gang and Dynamic Duo realize there’s probably a reason that the house’s contents were nailed to the floor—one that explains its disappearing act, as well as the fact that the house has reappeared when they return to where it was last seen.

Once again, Scooby and Shaggy remain with the cars while the others investigate inside. But when a rabbit darts out from the underbrush, Scooby is spooked up a tree and onto a branch, which judders down under his weight, revealing...

A sequence ensues where the entire house rotates upside-down, revealing an alternate empty field and bringing the building into an enormous cavern, while the boys fuss with the branch-switch to try to get the house upright, and Batman and Robin work an alternate switch to bring it back around again.

In the tunnels of the cave, Batman spots the purple-cloaked crook, and the heroes give chase, finding their way up and out into a crate-filled warehouse loaded with all kinds of toys—tying back into the punching clown gimmick of the counterfeiting operation and allowing for even more chase antics in a gag-filled setting.

At one point, Scooby crashes into a stack of boxes, and the villain pops up out of one—running in place in mid-air before dashing out of view across the screen, without ever landing on the ground. It’s kind of jarring, and makes me realize that that’s the sort of visual gag usually reserved for the good guys. It’s also really poorly timed.

Exactly where this warehouse is located relative to any of the rest of the setting is really unclear. Is it underground? A short distance from Mrs. Baker’s house, previously unseen and perhaps near the auto junkyard?

And how does the villain manage to ride a unicycle at speed while wearing a full-length robe and cloak? 

After a lot of chasing—for once, mostly involving the costumed villain being chased, rather than menacing the gang—Scooby manages to knock the crook into the Dynamic Duo’s hands.

The scene cuts to the field above, the mastermind in Batman and Robin’s grip and the gang ready for this all to end.

“Before the cops come take him away, make him tell us what happened to Mrs. Baker,” Fred demands.

“Yes, that dear, sweet old lady,” Daphne agrees.

Velma opines, “The poor woman was just an innocent bystander in all this. She simply vanished.”

Batman turns, waiting. “Well?”

“You fools, Mrs. Baker didn’t vanish! She’s been here all this time.” the villain growls, ripping off the cloak and mask. To the shock of no-one who can perceive the color purple, it’s Mrs. Baker.

Naturally, the gang, Batman, and Robin are all blown away by this.

YOU.

ARE.

DEFECTIVE DETECTIVES.

Mrs. Baker has been running a counterfeiting operation out of her complex system of a disappearing house and secret tunnel for who-knows how long, with this possibly being just the first time she’s been caught at it.

Yeah, a dear, sweet old lady.

Who tried to crush Scooby and Shaggy in a car compactor near the beginning of the episode, and led the gang into the hands of two of Gotham’s most notorious criminal masterminds.

Scooby is ultimately responsible for capturing all the criminals of this episode, and for once, without fouling up a trap or anything, having boldly given chase and forced the crooks into Batman and Robin’s arms. Now, Batman has no Scooby Snacks to offer this uncharacteristically brave canine...

Boy, yeah, that looks appetizing. You feed Ace those, Bruce?

(like what i’m doing here? It’s not what pays the bills, so i’d really appreciate it if you could send me a bit at my paypal.me or via my ko-fi. Click here to see more entries in this series of posts, or here to go in chronological order)

[floggingink]

Riverdale, “Chapter Twenty: Tales from the Darkside”

THIS ISN’T DOWN TO THE WIRE, KEVIN

I think most of the references this ep went over my head, as I am not a classic horror connoisseur, but I’m giving it the old college try

CHUCK AND HIS 18-INCH WAIST IS BACK!

Sixth period is Intro to Film: for starters, the opening text crawl is from the beginning of the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and they did this to placate Jughead, who has an amazing episode this week in that he fucking survives to the end of it

oh yeah, Betty got Mr. Phillips killed!

I like that in response to the circumstances Betty and Jughead have started sinning MORE

Jug’s snake tattoo has a little crown on it, because history will not be denied/he’s a dweeb

Jughead’s being very dutifully “You didn’t do anything wrong, etc.,” and Betty absolutely cuts him off like, “BUT HOW THE FUCK?”

he calls her “Poirot,” which is like Betty calling him a rebel without a cause

ah, the poster of which is by his bed! Jughead has a bedroom!!!! you’ve earned it, champ!

Sexy, aesthetic Southside: I don’t remember if Penny Peabody had crimped hair the last time she and Jughead met, but it’s straight outta 00’s Avril Lavigne and I love it

the Kentucky Derby blinders Jughead has for his father are Riverdale’s truest tragedy. FP is doing him so wrong

Jughead is going to be Penny’s “transportation advisor,” because he’s such a good driver

LOVED the Kill Bill typewriter “Archie & Jughead” titles

What damn high school in America: you know Jughead just totally skipped class and sauntered into Riverdale High in his fucking jacket. now that his English teacher is gone, what’s the fucking point? can he still run his paper?

Gay?!: Cheryl calls them Bert and Ernie as she shoves them aside like they were made of papier-mâché (Bert and Ernie are life partners)

I like Jughead’s sort of layered expression when he’s asking Archie for help/telling Archie he’s going to help him, like he’s slightly smiling when he talks about the Ghoulies “stunt”

Archie COMMENDABLY says NOTHING about the huge crate full of drugs (it’s not POSSIBLY full of drugs, or even pancake mix) he’s about to get his prints all over. Riverdale would never have them pick up a like a metal Law & Order box, it’s got to be like a fucking pirate chest

Archie & Jug in the truck was presh. Archie had a lot of Fred-esque lines, but I think he’s filtering his true fears about Jughead ENDING UP IN PRISON, WHICH IS WHERE HE IS HEADED, into father-speak, and Jughead, whose father blows, is like I DON’T KNOW, DAD, I’M LIVING MINUTE TO MINUTE HERE

—which is very traumatized, you know? like when you’re growing up, if you’re too hassled and anxious you get holes in your developing brain because it’s too focused on constantly being in fight-or-flight survival mode to the detriment of learning how to be a person? Jughead doesn’t have time for anything that isn’t literally getting to the end of today, possibly sleeping with Betty

I like how Archie’s fantasy does NOT include college, which he doesn’t care about

Jughead doubts it: GQ tells me the East Village is still around, Jughead

not even in his dreams does Archie imagine Veronica would NOT be living on Park Avenue

I like the possibility-thread of “Even worse than jail” being cut off by the flat

Jughead wants to call Betty, his fixer, but then they’re like, How about the sheriff’s son?

would Kevin even have helped them out? he’s not into the shady anymore! he’s post-Joaquin!

Jughead has grand movie-thoughts about his own persona but has not “played it cool” once in his life

OH GREAT, IT’S TONY TODD. IT’S THE FUCKING CANDYMAN. GREAT. GREAT. HOW THE FUCK. WHAT. THE FUCKING—WHAT????????

Jughead only has $18 and he carries it with him wherever he goes

Jughead RELEASES Archie from his friendship debt before getting into McGinty’s truck, because HE’S ABOUT TO DIE

“DON’T LOOK UNDER THAT TARP”

JUGHEAD TAKING HIS LAST LOOK AT ARCHIE IN THE REARVIEW

The Blossom spawn: when Tony Todd fucking invoked Jason fucking Blossom, on top of everything else, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING ELSE, I had a fucking myocardial infarction

McGinty throwing out the time warp phrase “for just a hot minute”

okay the lighting in the truck makes his eyes reflect these tiny pinpoints of white out of the beyond-the-grave voids of his eyes and that Judgement Day shit is on the radio and Jughead is like, this is too much atmosphere even for me

“IN THE BLACK OF THE HOOD IS THE LIGHT OF GOD, AND WHEN YOU SEE IT, YOU WILL DIE.” WHAT? WHAT???? WHAAAAATTTTT???????

and then Archie sees a zombie deer. he sees like a fawn with its fucking skin blistered off. he sees a fucking Chernobyl deer. walking precisely the line between Riverdale and Greendale. great. Greendale is full of ghosts. Jughead is in a death truck driven by the Riverdale Reaper’s sixth victim or something. GREAT. GREENDALE IS FULL OF GHOSTS! GREAT!

Jughead wears his watch face very rakishly on the inside of his wrist

for a hot second, I thought the flies were bees. I did think they were bees. I did think they were doing Candyman

BECAUSE IT’S FUCKING TONY TODD!!!!!!!

you know Jughead was going to look under the tarp. you fucking knew it. he’s in act two of a horror movie. he’s going to relay this story later and say he didn’t look under the tarp? what’s under the tarp? WHAT’S IN THE BOX

deer too dead even to still walk around

I’ve seen this like three times and I can’t tell you what the fuck he’s eating in that shitty cafe. steak? Jell-O? kitten flesh?

the way he says “I’m no thrill-seeking sicko,” sucking on the S’s

the single fly buzzing around McGinty’s shoulder as he tells the Reaper story was like a single further death omen and if it turned out Jughead was already a zombie like in that comic you know, I would’ve fucking bought it, fuck it, what the fuck

some people THINK a lynch mob got him? there was a RUMOR lynch mob? or there was DEFINITELY a lynch mob that only MIGHT HAVE lynched the right person??? I’M GONNA NEED SOME CLARIFICATION, POP TATE

California in my experience is exactly where you should be to pray to the devil

I loved how fast things went incredibly south in the diner. the thud of the check, McGinty saying Jughead would pay, Jughead beings like, Pardon me? Jughead about to be LEFT BEHIND

“YOU’RE SINNERS, BOTH OF YOU. CAREFUL OR YOU’LL TASTE THE REAPER’S BLADE NEXT.”

Archie > Dawson: Archie is, simultaneously, the worst and best person to have along with you inside a horror movie, because he’s sort of dense but also will never give you up, never let you down, desert you (if it’s a Good Archie episode, which this unmistakably is). Archie is the only character I would buy forgetting he was there and miraculously he shows back up in the nick of time

next we have Archie and Jughead driving around some more with the Friday the 13th echoing exhale sound effect in the background, just for funsies

Fifth period is AP English: Penny’s fucking Arctic exploration crate has all this HP Lovecraft motif lore on the side of it, so, cool, I guess it contains screaming desiccated souls or something (Lovecraftian Ghouls eat flesh, by the way)

“Damn good coffee”: aaaaaaaaand coming out to meet them is a Soviet spy wearing a beret, wheeled out by Karla, with an AK on his hip. Greendale contains the trapped spirits of everyone who died there in the 70’s

These students are legally children: Jughead is screwed. Jughead is so screwed. Jughead is one part vodka, two parts orange juice

Archie’s coloring lends itself well to being bathed in that pink Pop’s lighting I love

Jughead has recovered enough to call McGinty (who isn’t named aloud) “Mr. American Gothic”

JUGHEAD WANTS TO GO TO THE LIBRARY WITH ARCHIE. he doesn’t want to do drug runs. he wants to snoop around with his best friend, because despite having a gang in his bloodline, Jughead is REALLY not a gang member. when he gets to choose what he wants to do, he just wants to do research. he wants to be Giles, okay

endless tragedy with Archie’s “Next day, for sure.”

I would absolutely believe that Riverdale’s jail’s visiting hours are actually “sunup to sundown” as opposed to like “eight to four”

how precious is he, steeling himself to see his father’s slashed face

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

apparently Penny’s surveillance video has some sort of infrared lighting quality

I like how Penny specifies that Jughead is not to raise his voice to her, a classic scarier-than-violence threat

is this why FP was so freaked that Jughead would owe her? not because she’s naturally treacherous to everyone, but because he knows she wants recompense for his betrayal? FP, you’re awesome start to finish

Jughead has not done like a SINGLE THING WRONG this entire time that hasn’t been at the behest of him trying to FIX everything single thing that his father set him up for, dog

I do not deserve a whole segment dedicated to Josie and her white manicure, yet here I am!

Josie and the janitor have an understanding, because people who stick around school after hours are usually slightly strange and have to stick together

“I don’t need a bodyguard! I’m not Whitney. Yet.”

Certified pedigree: Mayor McCoy is another Scary Riverdale Mom, but I’d say she’s the least scary of them WRT her daughter (not the southsiders, although jury’s still out on how much of that is Alice’s fault)

Josie’s vocal polyps swell when she’s stressed

her denim one-piece? only you, Josie

Cheryl’s hair: Classic Disney princess hair this episode. Classic Cheryl. a Classic

Cheryl sums up Josie’s guilt as being about “sinning” which means therefore the Black Hood may notice, as opposed to something like “You feel like you’re betraying your friends,” which would be the human response

Chuck Clayton is thoroughly charming throughout. if you just watched him this episode, you’d be like, How bad could he really have been?

he came prepared with the knowledge that Josie “loves her cheese fries”

Chuck’s leather jacket is very nice. all the boys should just be wearing leather jackets

Josie is partaking of a “eucalyptus steam”

“Nick St. Creature”

Cheryl’s measured response to Josie calling her controlling was perfect. she says she’ll never be able to “repay” her “debt,” because Cheryl is ALL ABOUT tit-for-tat, emotional burdens handled via business deals, paying off favors, clearing her side of the column

I also like her Blossom pun

The 2001 Josie and the Pussycats movie was a masterpiece: VALERIE! MELODY! VALERIE’S SWEATER! MELODY’S SKIRT! VALERIE’S CURLS! MELODY’S AFRO! “WOMEN ARE SUPPOSED TO TREAT EACH OTHER BETTER THAN THIS.” “PRIDE COMETH BEFORE THE FALL.”

Fwoopy hair is the best hair: Melody is not happy but she is the goddess of my life and I hope she can sense that from this distance

why IS Josie doing the solo thing? she did claw them in the back!

ooh, he’s smooth. he’s smooth with the Pop’s thing. Chuck did that

Josie’s “YEAH MHM” nod when Chuck says he “doesn’t have the greatest track record” and rolls her eyes at him “going to church”

“Why? To objectify models?”

he wants to draw comics, because he is a creative? Chuck and Jughead and their leather jackets would have a great time at the library together, after they make up (with hugs)

did I say Archie looked good in the pink light? fucking Chuck and Josie look phenomenal

Pulp Fiction diner dancing!

I’ve seen Brick like thirty times: the two of them synchronized jitterbugging together, I did not have the patience to Google the name of the dance, like fully won me over. is Chuck good now? I’m fucking on Chuck’s list now. like is that all it took for me? I am a weak bitch

“YOU’RE A DAMNED FOOL.”

stay strong, Chuck! don’t fuck this up!

is Mayor McCoy lying on the spot about her hate mail mentioning Josie? just to scare her into compliance?

“Taking a few art classes does not a saint make.”

Cheryl’s sheaths: Cheryl’s wearing huge thick ankle-strap platforms again with a VERY leggy romper

okay shut up because Cheryl actually says “What’s in the box?” and Brad Pitt felt a little bit of his life force drain from his body

Gay.: What up with Cheryl’s game here? was she preemptively putting things in Josie’s locker on the off-chance she would need to get a rival presence out of Josie’s life? I would like a reason, but I don’t need one, because Cheryl is so beyond my mind to comprehend I take solace simply in basking in her wake. like, she found a pig’s heart? of course she did. of course you did, Cheryl

Cheryl’s a chaos angel from hell: “For all we know, he’s the one sending your mom those letters, too” is SUCH an overreach if Josie had had time to think about it for two seconds, but she does not have such two seconds, thus it is a master move by Cheryl Blossom

Chuck’s puppy eyes

Josie knows what she diiiiiiiiid!

THEY GOT ME FOR THE SECOND TIME! GODDAMMIT!

nicely specific throat-slashing, right in the polyps

I’m writing a scene where it’s gay.: Cheryl is listening to Josie sing as she draws, in the greatest reveal in television history (at least since “You’ve done a bad thing, Daddy,” which feels like it happened fifty-eight years ago) (is this actually gay? am I being #blessed with Gothic lesbian villainy?)

Every triangle has three corners, every triangle has three sides: Betty and Jughead literally sleeping together I WOULD ASSUME means they’re having sex except I’m like 0-4 on this stuff, I’m not taking anything as a given

Best costume bit: Betty’s flower decal sweater

VERONICA: How’s he been dealing with it? BETTY: WHAT’S HE BEEN DOING?

Veronica’s tiny poofy magenta skirt and EXTREMELY high heels

“Poor Kevin. He’s like a character in a lost Tennessee Williams play.” (Archie does not know Tennessee Williams)

Sheriff Keller is REMARKABLY forthcoming, in that I think he assumes Betty is going to dig around until she’s found this stuff out anyway, so he may as well show her the ACTUAL EVIDENCE PHOTOS now

Kevin is a cashmere-besweatered angel who plays RPG’s and drinks milk

dare I spy a Tarantino split-screen?

The female gaze: Tom Keller is jacked and this just complicates everything

the extent to which Veronica can be read as absolutely hitting on him while actually prying him for information while ostensibly offering comfort is a tribute to Camilla Mendes, James DeWille, 60,000 years of human speech

the animal targets on the wall as like, art?

aw, Kev took the floor. honestly thought he might have a bunk bed for like, his bears

God bless jingle-jangle: can you imagine having it in your obituary that you were “a jingle-jangle addict”? can someone finagle this for mine? is this blog a legal document?

50 Shades of Betty: I love how off the rails, if you will, Betty is this episode. she’s lost the forest for the trees a bit and it’s GREAT. she’s such a fucking oddball. Lili Reinhart’s massive eyes are like laserbeams of manic certainty

Summer + Blair = Veronica: Veronica is the only person with sense this entire episode. like what would it have been like if it was Veronica and Jughead in the first part? and Archie seeing Josie get a pig’s heart! AND CHERYL IN SHERIFF KELLER’S MAN-SWEAT BASEMENT

it appears the singing bass salesman made a stop at the Kellers’ after he hit up FP Jones

Please protect Betty: Betty’s expression of defiant stoicism throughout her father’s apology on her behalf and Keller explaining himself even further

“Where-oh-where do you think you’re going, Sheriff?” TO LIVE HIS LIFE, BETTY?

he is wearing a very Black Hood outfit of the leather jacket (!) over a flannel with jeans

love the split-second shot of the camera flash

Veronica was rich: of course Veronica’s in like thigh-high boots or whatever

OOOOOOOOHHH HE’S DOING THAAAAAAAT WITH HEEEERRRRRRR!

Veronica was 1) correct and 2) says “broment”

Pop keeps delicate teacups around for “fancy” orders

Cheryl’s structured red coat!

can you believe Jughead left BEFORE Pop got that phone call?

THE RECKONING, Y’ALL, IT’S HERE! MAYBE ONE SINGLE MORE PERSON WILL DIE!

NEXT WEEK TWENTY HOURS FROM NOW: Cheryl makes FP clean up a milkshake, and I enjoy this very special purchase

[dust1feather]

This is basically my declaration of love for Sterek, the best ever OTP, and for the amazingly talented Sterek fandom which has given me so much joy and happiness throughout the years. Here's hoping the years post-canon will be even better and brighter. #eternalsterek

Big thanks to @halekingsourwolf for the beta! (Also on AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12178566 )

For Sterek

You meet for the first time on private property – 147 pounds of pale skin, fragile bones and sarcasm, and a majestic wolf with bunny teeth in a too big leather jacket.

Derek Hale: you're the king on Stiles' chessboard, his anchor, the prettiest alpha with the flower crown and Stiles your flower queen. You're the alpha of Stiles' heart.

Stiles Stilinski: you're Derek's anchor, his second in command, the emissary in training, the most loyal member of his pack. You're Derek's mate.

Mieczysław and cousin Miguel. You meet each other in a thousand different ways, in a thousand lifetimes. You impress each other with your Polish roots and fluent Spanish skills. Together you suffer through endless family dinners and visits to Grandma's only to be interrogated about your intentions. You'll have your informal occasions, too: relaxed get togethers and movie nights and bbqs in the backyard, letting the pack and your respective families mingle. You're no strangers to loss but the tragedies of the past make you appreciate your self-made families all the more.

Perhaps you're orphans and make your own families. Or you meet as kids and become instantly inseparable. Or you meet in school but have a hard time fighting through your different social cliques to reach out and make your special brand of jock and nerd work, connecting through mutual love for pop culture or music or literature. University fraternities may try but they can't keep you apart forever.

Sometimes you meet later in life, when you already have kids, but all that friendly neighbourhood DILF will charm your pants off. Often enough you get to have your kids together, carry your own pups and join your beautiful everything (Herald being the infamous exception, of course).

You communicate via notebooks full of scribbles in sparkly pens, you text and sext and skype and type and call using few words or none. The anonymous postcards are instantly recognizable and always welcome. And when you're not using words, you know to interpret each other's eyebrows and the eyerolls. Your love translates without sound or sight, with a simple sign or touch.

You're studying for your exams, learning anatomy bone by bone while lying in bed. You connect the multitude of moles, admire all those brilliant tattoos covering each other's bodies, magical and ordinary alike. You make having gray hairs okay because getting them means growing old together.

But first you're still young and you meet in the forest, lay on a rock and share a smoke. It's a club –  it's always a club – dark, loud and full of people invading your space. You leave the wolfsbane laced drink and craft beer behind and move to the dancefloor where your sweaty bodies gyrate together, following the beat of the music while you learn each others' curves and angles by heart. Later you're in no hurry, you're vegging indoors, tangled on the sheets, kissing and watching the smoke twist and curl up, up, and up in lazy patterns. Taking turns shotgunning your spirits and dreams from lips to lips. You lose your virginities together... maybe you lose it to save your life, to avoid becoming the next sacrifice, but it always, always means something. Because you're soulmates, your innermost thoughts and desires appearing on your skin, helping you to find your missing piece, connecting you two old souls time and again.

Then the wildest dreams of your high school band come true and you love and play and break up and make up while touring and conquering whole continents. You give and take dance lessons, to seduce and be seduced; you clash your classic and street style backgrounds, a strict follower of rules and the other forever bending them, creating something altogether new just for the two of you. You paint each other like one of the French girls; you do portraits, make sculpture and pottery and nude drawings, sometimes in secret and sometimes in plain sight. You participate in the theater club, and the whole audience will get to witness your first kiss.

You travel the world with your magical circus; you are firemen, enjoying their pies. You meet as police officers and delinquents, as actual superheroes or vigilantes. You're PIs or FBIs. You're cowboys on a ranch, vagabonds, florists and tattooists, doctors and patients, bakers, chefs, sportsmen, football players representing rival teams. You're hot mechanics getting down and dirty under the hoods and jeeps. You're thieves, magicians, horse trainers, students and teachers and professors. You own a bookshop, magic shop; you work in a library, you're a TA. You drive a tow truck and you have a thing for your dispatcher who is calculating the shortest distance from you to him. You're a rentboy surviving on a stranger's kindness; you're a rich sugardaddy who starts with all the material goodness and ends up giving his heart and soul. It's omegaverse and neither of you believes in the society's unyielding hierarchy, yet there you both are, reluctantly taking part in the annual heat run.

The UST between you two is legendary and it burns hotter than a thousand suns. And when you finally snap, you do it against the wall, in and on the Camaro, in every single room and on every available piece of furniture to christen your new apartment. You do it on a motorcycle in space despite the raving zombies all around. You do it in captivity, not minding Derek's beta form in the least. You do it in secluded cabins in the woods, surrounded by snow, far from the rest of the civilization. Knotting is your thing. And despite what anyone might think, your BDSM and private club performances and role plays are fifty shades of okay.

And when it comes to porn, you're naturals. Made for recording videos online, letting the camera love your angles. It really is all about Neckz'n Throats. And in a real studio, you're famous stars colliding but doing it like professionals all the same. You have a good time, many many times, several times in a row, in several different positions, and yet it's the undeniable power of human love which penetrates you the deepest.

Everyone else sees what you have before you do. The witches teach you a lesson. You have to narrate your own life or you can only talk by singing or you are forced to speak your mind or you can only speak the truth or hear each other's thoughts or you are physically bound together until you learn better. And even if magically stolen away, your love will grow back organically, like the plants in the strong earth of the garden because there is no stopping such a force of nature.

You're involved in politics: the first son and his long suffering but lifesaving bodyguard. You're celebrities, you're famous models and authors, actors and larger than life movie stars returning home and given another chance at making things right. You're bloggers and vidders. You're food critics. You own restaurants and bars and work in diners and cafes and make coffees as black as your soul with a lot of sugar and extra cream.

You're royalty throughout the ages. In modern day, you hide from paparazzi and try to reign in your desire in the face of social expectations and pressure from the media. In ancient times, you struggle with archaic laws and wars, fighting for your countries and sending your most trusted knight or assassin to turn the course of war for you, to win the war for you and it's the biggest sacrifice every time. Or you're heirs or less important sons needed to seal the alliance of your kingdoms, to be wed to maintain the peace and strengthen the union of your countries. You've only ever seen a portrait of your intended, a horrible troll of a creature, and you can't believe your eyes when your fiancé turns out to be love at first sight. Or it's regency and you hesitate with even the slightest touch; you barely dare to dream of holding hands and yet a single look across the room makes everyone else disappear, leaving just the two of you with your unparallelled chemistry.

Stiles, you're Squirrelinski, a fennec fox, you are the fox to Derek's wolf. When you're given the bite, you become the most natural beta ever, challenging Derek's alpha at every turn but matching him step by step. Derek, your seedwolf makes the most adorable minifriend Stiles has ever had. And then there are sheepgoats and bunnywolves, androids being built and mermen coming ashore. There are demon creatures summoned and adopted. There's more than enough to handle in one set of you but sometimes it's either the Stilinski twins or a Derek's doppelganger and the only available option is to groupsex it away.

You're possessed by demons and chased by hunters. Even death can't keep you apart. You make a perfect werewolf-vampire couple or haunt each other as ghosts, or go to purgatory and back to fix it, to prove everyone you're not done yet and that you never will be. You're driven together by a curse, magic or fairies make you do it. It's fate or chance or accident. But that's only the beginning. It's what happens after, when you learn from each other, show respect and understanding, trust each other, and inevitably and irrevocably fall in love. Every single time.

And even when the whole world is on fire, you serve through the World Wars to see each other again. It's the apocalypse and the zombies are roaming the earth, they have spread all over the galaxy and you're fighting for your survival, still not letting each other go. Werewolves are known, there's slavery, you're kidnapped and held in captivity. You join forces, start a revolution and fight against the oppressors. You are each other's lifeline, you pull each other through it all and end up saving your city, your nation, your world, the universe while re-discovering your humanity with your love. And when you return to civilian life the war has left its mark on you, as the veteran with PTSD, you have your scars and battle wounds but sometimes the invisible scars can only be seen without sight and you manage to mend them together.

Your love transcends time. You travel back and forth through different timelines, you cross multiple universes just to be together. You chase after hurricanes and want to start all over. You take a gap year, you go on a roadtrip to see the world but the further you drive, the closer the two of you get and all that breathtaking scenery pales in comparison with your self-discoveries and budding love.  

So, just so you know, Derek, Stiles is not afraid of you and he hasn't been for a long, long time. There's no need for ripping any throats out with teeth. Though it's still Stiles' house and Stiles' rules, buddy, whenever he's harbouring your fugitive ass. And Stiles, if one of these days you get lucky, Derek will show you that big ol' fist and you can be sure it's not the only big thing the big bad wolf has in store for you. But, most importantly, you trust each other now and you still need each other to survive, still keep each other alive and won't ever let go.

You're drift compatible, you fit together in every possible universe with every version of yourselves. You're Diego and Sid, the abominable snowman and sourwolf, you're big bad wolf and not so little red with the trusted baseball bat or the lacrosse stick. You two make a pretty good pair.

You belong to fandom. You belong to no one. You belong to each other.

Stiles and Derek. Derek and Stiles. Your love is eternal.

Canon is closed. You're finally free.

Long live Sterek.  

[szopenhauer]

What is the reason you last got a new cell phone? because I needed phone with internet connection 

Are you more masculine or feminine? dunno, smth in between?

Which name have you kissed the most people with? I only kissed one person in my entire life

Do you enjoy All You Can Eat buffets? yes

Have you ever seen the band/artist you’re listening to live? I didn’t attend any Momomoyouth concerts

Last thing you printed off a computer? short story that I’ve written

Last thing you threw in the garbage? not sure what was last

Last black person you hugged? I saw few black people but never even had a chance to talk to them

Is life hard? for me it is, I know some people have it worse but still

Who does the song you’re listening to remind you of? nothing, I just enjoy it

Have you ever had anything pierced that isn’t anymore? never had anything pierced ever

Would you consider yourself “tough”? it’s complicated 

Headphones or earbuds? headphones

Do you support freedom of speech? I think some stuff should be censored like bullying

Are you ever told you are too opinionated? maybe 

Do you hold grudges for long? sometimes

What’s in your garden/backyard? you mean plants or other stuff like furniture or decor?

Do you own a purple pillow? nope

Do you have a brown blanket? nah

Do you think diamonds, stars or hearts are prettier? stars

Have you ever overflown a bath? noooo

Do you appreciate brutal honesty? not brutal but I appreciate honesty in general most of the time

When was the last time you ate meat? yesterday

Have your parents met your gf/exes? they met my current gf and my ex S.

How about your gf’s parents? Met them? I met my current gf’s parents 

Do you feel uncomfortable easily? kinda

Do you know how to say I love you in at least 4 languages? yup

What age will you be when you times your current age by two? 56

Do you find the sound of a cats purr relaxing? hmm...

Are you in a simple or complex mood? complex

Do you know your Mum’s first pets name? I need to ask my mom’s guinea pigs’ name :o

*she doesn’t remember

Do you like car racing? playing car racing games, don’t like to brag but I’m very good at it actually 

What is your closest uncle/aunt called? to me it’s my aunt Alicja (Alice)

Do you wear underwear to bed? when I have my period to have extra protection

Do you get angry, depressed or nervous more? all at once

What is something obvious about you that everyone notices? that I’m short 

Would you ever get a heart tattoo or your back? what for?

Do you like Sapphires? I don’t

What about you do you think your friends dislike? ask them

Would you allow your children to date prior to 16? (assuming you want any) I don’t want any and would allow but no sex! at least use protection or birth control

What’s something about adult life you were never warned of or prepared for? amount of illnesses for example

How often do you wash your car? I don’t have a car

Which app on your phone do you tend to get the most notifications from? fb messanger

Do you find it easy to put yourself in somebody else’s shoes? I believe

Have you ever kissed a smoker? I have not

If you won the lottery, do you think any of your family members would ask you to give them some of your money? my parents wouldn’t have to ask :)

What is the craziest thing you’ve seen happen at your workplace? crazy is that one of the coworkers actually disappeared - he left his stuff and didn’t took the money for the job - he was never found 

Have you ever disliked a book so much that you didn’t finish it? many times

Do you think tomorrow will be a better day than today? hope so

A word that describes you, starting with the last letter of your last name?: asexual

What is the age difference between the last two people you kissed romantically?: -

How many hours have you worked this month?: zero

How did you or whoever come up with the name(s) for your pet(s): he was fattest among his siblings as a puppy and used to eat a lot later too, he even ate roof of his house lmfao

Last time you washed your hair?: Monday’s night

What is your weight?: about 40 kg, I didn’t check recently

Last article of clothing you purchased?: dad bought a hoode NOT INTERESTED for me in second hand because I cold so cold yesterday but I worry I still got a flu :(

Last electronic you purchased?: powerbank from what I remember

What is your blood type?: no idea

Who did you last walk a dog with?: my dad, we always go together for walks because it’s quite dangerous to wander alone around the forest

Ride bikes with?: same

For what reason did you last high five someone?: I virtually high fives my gf because we agreed on smth

Are you emotional? I’m more analytical/logical/overthinker but I still am very emotional Have you ever cut/burned yourself intentionally? ... Have you ever noticed the hidden adult jokes inside of kid shows/movies? in Shrek, the one about penis

Do you sin often? only God knows What do you think happens after you die? we have a funeral :P Are you afraid to die? I’m afraid of looking stupid and people laughing, being a burden, others trying to save me (or me trying to save myself of course) and failing, someone stealing my stuff while I’m unconscious, suffering for a long time, waking up in a casket, going to hell etc. If you had the chance, would you want to know the date of your death? YES Have you ever felt that you weren’t good enough? I’m not enough and yet too much if you know what I mean Are you jealous of your siblings? I am, she’s lucky, normal

Are you always wanting more? I want more than I have but not as much as people usually want - I want health and enough money to not just barely survive but I don’t dream about career, kids, big house, fame, talents, travelling, beauty, long life etc. Do you make good first impressions? pfft Do you consider yourself guarded?  it seems Do you like animals? majority but still wouldn’t want to own them 

Do you think doctors prescribe medicine too often? absolutely, too many meds are causing more problems than help and the fact lots of them are sold without prescription makes me angry and sad Do you enjoy getting drunk, or do you feel like you’re losing all control? I don’t drink because I don’t like the taste/smell and the consequences - losing control is one of them but also hangover and puking for examples Do you think the internet is dangerous? almost everything can be

Who do you think has the most pressure to be good-looking; guys or girls? women are pressured more to be attractive Do you care what impression you make on people? not much Honestly, do you say racist things? nah Do your parents put way too much pressure on you? not really Do you think people overreact when their pets die? not usually

Has anyone ever told you they needed space? that’s what I say!

Do you actually think there will be a zombie apocalypse? smth similar 

Do you get offended really easily? I’m pretty sensitive

Have you ever punched a wall out of complete anger? not wall, furniture

Ever been turned down in a really mean way? in my opinion that was hurtful

Are you ticklish? I am and hate that about me

Do you currently have a pair of UGG boots? I use them as slippers during winter :3

When was the last time you had a stomach ache? morning

Have you ever been to a circus? at least once <3

Does drama seem to follow you everywhere you go? I live in a drama movie Do you ever regret giving your number to people? regretted Have you ever been told that you’re afraid of your own shadow? fuck you! Have you ever tried Gouda cheese? obvi Do you still watch South Park? I never did You’re babysitting, what do you expect per hour for pay? been doing it for free :( What’s the last thing you returned at a store? tried to return computer and even tho it was on guarantee they didn’t fix it, it didn’t work from the start and it’s only getting worse >.< Do you still look at clouds and make shapes of them? it’s so much fun! :D If you had to dye your hair for one year, what color would you pick? green What’s your television addiction? non existent Have you ever had any painful dental work done? If so, what? 4 hours of root canal without anesthesia Do you make your own jewelry or clothing? tried but I’m bad at it Do you use drawing to describe what you’re feeling? preffered collages  Do you give everything you do 100%? I half ass majority of the things I do

If you could transform into any kind of animal, what animal would you be? raccoon? XD  actually a bird I guess One place you would never want to get lost in in the dark? somewhere I could fall down like from the roof or into a deep hole and where are sharp objects etc. Are you claustrophobic? just my head is, I’m scared to be stuck in smth with my head, I know it’s strange If you could be reincarnated, would you come back as another human or an animal? If an animal, what kind? I just want a good life... but never come back would be a better option - no more death  Easiest way to scare you? jump scares What was your last nightmare about? personal

Do you own any knee-high boots? no longer Have you ever kissed a dog on the mouth? disgusting!

How many squares of toilet paper do you use at a time? 2-3 Have you ever had acupuncture done to you? heard you can get ill outta that Do you play hopscotch? played a bit as a child Are you jealous of beautiful people? rarely  Are you foolish and naive? I try my best not to be yet end up being fooled at times anyway Do you play with the food on your plate? my mom does and that annoys me When you were born was the umbilical cord wrapped around your neck? luckily not Have you ever taken a mud bath? no thx Do you have nude photos of yourself posted on the internet? I didn’t even really took any to begin with Are you considered “normal”?

Do you want to skydive? nah Have you ever been told that you talk too much? and not enough, you can’t please anyone

What’s the latest youtube channel you’ve discovered and binge-watched?   https://www.youtube.com/c/naomijon/videos

Do you think your hair looks better long or short? it’s ugly 

Do you look best with or without bangs?   I prefer no bangs

Do you enjoy editing photos on your phone? I like filters sometimes but not editing

Which season do you wish would last longer?   summer

Haw many outdoor birthday parties have you had?   none, sadly, my birthday is during winter so I can’t 

How much taller or shorter are you than your mom?   like 10 cm taller even tho I’m so tiny

Do you have neat handwriting? r u kidding?...

Would you rather hike a mountain or dive into the sea?   hike

Which Barbie doll was your favorite? that one I slept with and broke her neck but I loved my Ken as much (and broke his legs but my dad fixed him) - that’s unusual as those are the only toys I actually ever broke (not counting my fav stuffed animal that lost it’s head but my mom sewed it back) and not because I didn’t care for them like some kids but because I loved them 

Do you prefer cheetah or zebra print, polka dots, paisleys, plaid, stripes or stars? animal prints are ok at times, paisley and some kinds of plaid too but I love stripes and stars and hate polka dots 

Do you like your natural hair color? whatever

Did you dream of becoming famous as a kid?   later in life I wanted to become an actress 

Have you ever been to a gynecologist? several times and I regret that

Do you use the Bitmoji app on your phone? used to

Do you get on facebook every day? yep

Would you ever consider naming a child after a family member?   not that I want to have kids but yes

List three names that sound similar to your name.   apparently Zosia is similar to Zuzia but also Anna as it’s part of Zuzanna

What were you almost named?   Lilia (Lily)

What does your name mean? same hahaha

Do you have any symptoms of COVID-19 right now? luckily not

Have you made your own mask to help prevent the spread of the virus?   my mom is making those

Do you ever wish you had someone to hug?   I have someone to hug

[mrmichaelchadler]

Fantasia 2018: Unfriended: Dark Web, Tales from the Hood 2, The Night Eats the World

Among its many major discoveries, the Fantasia International Film Festival can lay ownership to what can now be called the “Unfriended” franchise. In 2014, a horror movie called “Cyber National,” which took place all on one computer screen, was soon picked up for distribution, and retitled to “Unfriended.” Four years later, Fantasia had the international premiere of its sequel, “Unfriended: Dark Web.” Curiously, after the showing on Friday night, it was announced that director Stephen Susco’s film will have two endings when it is officially released, a bid to make the movie a tempting type of game. Don't fall for it. 

Curiosity killed the dumb horror character, as we know from cinematic death-traps structured just like this one, but “Unfriended: Dark Web” stretches this conceit until it snaps, which happens about 15 minutes in. A lost-and-found laptop with a bunch of violent videos, ominous file names on it and even the idea of going deep into the dark web is just not that seductive of a Pandora’s Box. As “Unfriended: Dark Web” then drags viewers through its mechanical course of events, the film works like a slasher movie as presented all on one laptop screen. Nastiness is its main offer, not tension. 

The person who finds said laptop, Matias (Colin Woodell), soon understands from a slew of Facebook message notifications that someone who owned this computer was doing some very suspicious transactions, and is in demand from a lot of people. Then, the person who claims (in caps lock, always) that Matias stole the laptop demands it back. Matias shares this with his friends who he is simultaneously Skyping with, some of whom fill the “dumb teenagers in a haunted house” set-up, including a smart, glasses-wearing guy, and a goofy comic relief guy. 

But good poutine gravy are these characters dumb and the movie even more so, at times shameless for the type of tricks it tries to pull with a straight face. One of the key plot points is that Matias’ girlfriend Amaya (Stephanie Nougeras) is deaf, which makes for moments of cheap tension that are just too mean-spirited, in which she can’t hear someone lurking behind her in what’s meant to be one of the more unsettling “boogeyman” moments. Or, not a spoiler, when Matias desperately tries to convince his friends that all of the stuff was a game; they believe it, and it becomes insulting to us that the movie thinks we would accept that. 

All of this happens as dully presented on one screen that goes between Facebook chat to a Skype session, with too many creative liberties. However nervous the movie wants to be, it’s far too inert, and can only hand-hold the audience. One nagging idea is how the dark web boogeyman can type in black text within one of Matias’ Facebook chats with another friend, accompanied every time by an overeager boom from the sound design. Of course, said messages then dramatically vanish. For a movie that wants to be scary because of its real-life possibility, it’s a carelessly broad depiction. “Unfriended: Dark Web” may compel you to cover the cameras on your electronic devices, but its filmmaking will be rendered obsolete when the superior screen-based thriller “Searching,” also produced by Timur Bekmambetov, comes out next month, or plays Fantasia next week.

On the other hand, “Tales from the Hood 2” proves that there should be approximately a hundred more films to that franchise’s name. It’s been 23 years since the film installment of this horror anthology, which like its sequel, was directed by Darin Scott and Rusty Cundieff, and executive produced by Spike Lee. If it even needs to be pointed out, those shorts, which tackled police brutality, violent families, the destruction of black bodies and more, are still as immediate and disturbing in 2018. 

It feels particularly fitting to talk about them together, so take this as not just a recommendation for “Tales of the Hood 2” but also “Tales from the Hood.” “Tales from the Hood 2” is similar to the first installment in a lot of ways, in particular because it comes with special horror branding: shorts that welcome viewers with campiness and overt horror beats, but achieve their thrills out of Scott and Cundieff's serious messages about history. Here, two young women (one Caucasian, one African American) carelessly wander into a museum filled with racist toys, and antiques from a time not removed from our own. They’re lectured by an owner of the museum about the real horror behind those images, with an emphasis on trying to devalue black lives with such awful depictions. They're explicitly told not to mess with these pieces of history, but it falls on deaf ears. 

I wouldn’t dare spoil what happens next, but the gory, shocking, funny and unforgettable images that result are the values of “Tales from the Hood” movies at their best: these shorts are not afraid to go beyond what you might expect. They can be bombastic and poignant all the same, with thrills and a message. And in a way that's different from so many horror anthologies, these are parables are primed for discussion as much as entertainment. 

Made on a smaller scale than its predecessor, “Tales from the Hood 2” is rough around the edges filmmaking-wise, and its writing can be a bit shaky: a slow-burn short about predatory bros feels like a weak corrective to the often male-focused perspectives in their storytelling. And the second short, about a psychic, takes a bit too long to get to its albeit outrageous comedic pay-off. 

But the last short in this sequel, which mixes real-life history with a nightmare about a black conservative man, is one of the most audacious from both films. It won’t be spoiled here, but it’s a great example of the “Tales from the Hood” movies coming into their own, still thinking of horror way beyond jack-in-the-box thrills. As horror fans chew on the notion of “elevated horror” considering the likes of “Get Out" (referring to movies that use genre thrills to explore political messages), “Tales from the Hood 2” proves Cundieff and Scott have been thinking at that level the whole time. 

One of the best movies I’ve seen at Fantasia so far is one of its most minimal: the exciting mash-up of a solo survival movie and the threat of a single zombie bite. “The Night Eats the World,” based on the novel by Pit Agarmen, is a terrific showcase in particular for Anders Danielsen Lie, previously of “Oslo, August 31st” and “Reprise.” Like the best movies that isolate us with one actor as they navigate and adapt to their deadly surroundings, it locks us into the psychology of Lie’s character Sam, who is the only living soul, as far as the eye can see, after an overnight zombie apocalypse. 

With his Paris apartment building functioning as a type of fort, Sam’s exploration of the building for life substances and through other life stories highlights one of the character-driven film’s best aspects: it’s not a movie you can get a step ahead of. We're with him in an open world, and we're more worried about him going crazy than him being bitten. Lie is so charismatic as our surrogate into this experience that the spacious movie feels full enough, even if the plot becomes mostly about his endurance physically and mentally. 

Sam goes through different feelings about his lucky foe: shock, amusement (he starts to embrace his drum set, even though it stirs up the zombies outside), and extreme loneliness. The movie is filled with extensive passages where there’s no dialogue as he exhibits these different states of mind. It's about a man getting comfortable with being alone, which becomes a quietly powerful message under all of it. And at the same time, director Dominique Rocher doesn’t under-utilize the dread of the zombie component, using classic zed logic like a more existential “Shaun of the Dead” meets “All Is Lost.” 

from All Content https://ift.tt/2uEIiHU