#so let’s stop holding this movie up as some great prophetic work

[pirateprincessjess]

I feel the need to periodically remind people that Idiocracy is a eugenics movie.

One of the things that eugenicists believe is that it is bad for society when the “wrong people” breed.

The entire premise of the movie is that “stupid people” kept having kids while “smart people” didn’t have kids, and it ruined society because stupid genes propagated while smart genes died out. This is eugenics propaganda.

I know people will read this and their response will be “actually it’s satire” but the movie isn’t satirizing eugenics. It’s satirizing anti-intellectualism, and consumerism, and it proposes eugenics as a solution.

When eugenics was first conceived, it was used as a way to justify inequality. The idea was that people who held privilege were able to do so because they were smarter and genetically superior to lazy and stupid people who don’t have privilege. Obviously this is bad and wrong, but it is also the core lesson of Idiocracy.

The movie literally ends with the main character becoming president and having “the smartest children in the world.” Because he and his wife have smarter genes than everyone else. The proposed solution for the things that Idiocracy is satirizing is for the smart people to have children that can be in charge of the world.

I know it’s fun to use this movie to dunk on anti-intellectualism and the MAGA movement, but we need to stop. When you quote and reference this movie you are spreading eugenics propaganda.

[phdmama]

Something Different

Written for @drarrymicrofic and the prompt “What If He Wants Ken Not Barbie”.  Full confession, I did not actually listen to the song because this scene came to mind.

972 words, G

Harry sits at the table, watching as Molly bustles about the kitchen. Flick, a sponge starts scrubbing the counter. Flick, the sink starts filling with steaming, soapy water. Flick, the spoon in what looks like a bowl of cake batter stops its stirring. 

She pours the kettle by hand, saying as she always does, “Let’s do this properly, shall we?” 

It’s rare to find her without family at home. Even though all of her brood have moved out, there’s almost always someone hanging around, but Harry had hoped that on a Tuesday morning, they could talk. Alone. 

“Now, Harry,” Molly says, setting the teapot and a mug in front of him. “Are you sure you don’t want something to eat? I’ve got scones, fresh this morning, or I could do you some eggs.” She gives him a once over. “You’re looking a bit thin.”

Harry shakes his head with a smile. “No, just tea.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” she says, turning away to pull the cream from the refrigerator. “It’s no trouble at all.”

Harry watches as she settles in the chair across from him, stirs a dollop of cream into her tea, and passes him the sugar bowl.

“So,” she says finally, lifting the mug to her mouth, “Not that I don’t always love to see you, dear, but I’m wondering why you’re here when you ought to be at work?”

Harry shrugs, blows on his own tea and drinks. “I wanted to see you,” he says finally, and Molly’s face softens, the fine lines about her eyes crinkling as she smiles.

“I saw those photos of you in the Prophet,” she says lightly, sipping her tea. “Out with that woman. From America, isn’t she?”

Harry’s stomach drops. “Err, yeah,” he says finally. “Charlene, she’s from California.”

“She’s lovely,” Molly says, “Like one of those Barbie dolls, isn’t she? Or a movie star.”

Harry swallows. “She’s nice,” he says, meaning it. 

Charlene is nice. She’s gorgeous, of course, but also brilliant, and more than a little terrifying with her offensive spells. She’s on-loan to the DMLE, following a particularly nasty serial killer who appears to have relocated to London from Santa Barbara, and it’s been great fun to work with her.

“Will you be seeing her again?” Molly asks. “You know you’re welcome to bring her round for Sunday dinner, if you want.”

Harry shakes his head and can’t meet her eyes. It hits him that this is as hard as anything he’s ever done. It feels like as soon as he opens his mouth, he’s risking almost everything that matters to him.

“Harry?” Molly asks, concern clear in her voice. “What is it, darling? Are you okay?”

“What if,” Harry asks, and then to his horror, his voice breaks and his eyes fill. He can’t look at Molly, can only stare into the cup of tea in front of him. “What if I want something different?”

Molly freezes, mug halfway to her lips, and then sets it down. “Harry, love. What is it? What do you mean?”

“What if I don’t want Barbie,” Harry whispers past the lump in his throat. “What if… What if what I want is Ken?”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Molly jumps to her feet, rushes around the table to pull Harry out of his chair to standing, and wraps her arms around him. He’s enough taller that he could rest his chin on her head, but it’s so clear, in this moment, just who is holding whom.

Harry can’t help the shudder that rocks through him as he leans in. He can feel her fierce love soaking in, and lets himself exhale. 

“Harry James Potter,” Molly says when he finally eases back, wiping his eyes with both hands. She reaches up, places her hands on his cheeks to make sure he’s looking at her. “There is nothing, not one thing that could ever change how much we love you. This is your home, and we are your family.” 

She grabs his shoulders and gives him a quick, affectionate shake and Harry can’t help the sob that escapes him. Her own eyes full, Molly wraps him in another of those tight, protective hugs, murmuring reassurance to him as he clings to her.

“Oh, Harry,” Molly whispers, “How long have you known?”

Harry takes a long, deep, cleansing breath and steps back, but reaches out to grab Molly’s hand. “I don’t know. A while? Ron knows, and Hermione.”

Molly nods, squeezes his hand and gently pushes him back to his chair. “Scones, and more tea,” she says firmly. As she rummages in the fridge, sending butter and scones to the table, she says, her voice studiously casual, “The Malfoy boy came to visit us, after the war.”

Harry stares at her in surprise. “He did? I, err, I didn’t know that.”

Molly glances at him and smiles. “He asked us not to say. Apologized. Told us how wrong he was, how much he regretted everything.”

“What did you say?” Harry asks after a pause. 

“He was a child,” Molly says firmly, sitting down again. “Just a child, and the way he was raised, well. You can only imagine.” She breaks open a scone, slathers it with butter and jam and places it on the plate in front of Harry. “He’s grown into a good man, and the work he does with his foundation. He helps people. And,” her eyes twinkle a bit, “He’s not bad looking either, eh?”

Harry covers his face with his hands, quite sure he’s as red as the strawberry jam on his scone. “How did you know?”

Molly just smiles, picks up her mug again. “I wasn’t sure, but I wondered. Call it a mother’s intuition. Bring him to dinner on Sunday, Harry. He needs to meet your family properly.”

[angst-fairygodmother]

Taken Care Of (Derek x Reader)

A/N: I love a sick fic. It’s good, low-stakes hurt/comfort style fluff. The title was originally “Is it really love if he’s never seen you shoot snot rockets?” but since there was no actual said rockets, it seemed misleading. 

Apparently, also my writing is prophetic because I’m finishing this under feverish duress of some sort of cold (its 81 degrees, I’m wearing a hoodie, and I'm freezing. This is bullshit.)

Word Count: 2437

Rating: G - descriptions of illness (mostly pain, dizziness), crying and self-deprecation

For what will soon become obvious reasons, this is set pre-movie.

“Derek? What are you doing here?” you asked, crossing the school lobby quickly to greet him, your friends trailing behind a little slowly.

“Hey Baby Girl,” he said with a grin. “You've been so busy, I feel like I don't ever see you. I missed you,” he gave you that pout he was frustratingly good at, the one that made you melt like butter no matter what else was going on, as he laced his fingers between yours.

“So you decided to visit me at school?” As glad as you were to see him, part of you wished he hadn’t just shown up. This hadn’t been how you planned for him to be added to this part of your life, and it wasn’t exactly good timing. 

“I thought we could get lunch? I didn't know you'd be hangin out with your friends. Don't let me interrupt.”

His words nudged you, and you hastily made introductions. 

“Oh, so you're the mysterious Derek. I always knew Y/N had good taste,” Alli hummed, looking over him with a flirtatious hunger.

You felt your stomach clench at the look she gave him. It wasn’t quite jealousy, trusting him far too much for concern to ever cross your mind, but something like fear settled over you. Or maybe it was just the nausea you’d felt all week, you tried to tell yourself. Derek seemed to sense the tension you held in every part of your body, and gave your hand an affirming squeeze.

“I don't know about mysterious,” he chuckled, “Y/N reads me like an open book.”

Jen laughed. “Perfect answer,” she slung an arm over your shoulder with a grin. “I like him. Definitely approve.”

“Ladies,” Alexi said, interrupting on their way past. “As curious as we all are to meet and drool over the boy Y/N’s been keeping to herself, let her have him to herself.” 

They hooked their arms through the other two’s elbows who planted their feet and refused to be dragged away. You couldn’t help but laugh at your friends' antics, as tired and slightly embarrassed as you were. Derek was grinning at them, still holding your hand and keeping you tucked against him. 

“Wait wait,” Jen protested. “Y/N. You’re taking him to Aida’s right? You have to.” 

“I don’t know…” the smirk on Alli’s face continued to roil your stomach. “I’d just take him home.” 

“What’s Aida’s?” Derek asked, hiding his face in your hair, surprising you that he was actually embarrassed by your friends’ comments.

“Only the best food ever,” Alexi answered with a smile. “Y/N can tell you all about it on the way. Just do that cute thing and share a milkshake with two straws, or I’ll hunt you. Byyyye.” 

Giving up on pulling the others, they decided to push you two out the doors instead. Rather than dealing with more of their nonsense, you let yourselves leave, and stopped just out of range. 

“Aida’s is a place around the corner. Cheap. Definitely knows how to cater to the student crowd. Good food, pretty amazing milkshakes. And coffee has unlimited free refills in a two hour window.”

“Sounds great. I wanted to take you to lunch. Do you want to?”

“It’s no big deal,” you shrugged. “I go there all the time. We should do something special, since you came all this way.” 

“Y/N. You know I don’t care about that. I’m happy anywhere you decide. Besides,” he leaned closer to purr in your ear, words like honey sending a shiver down your spine, “I want to know all your places.”

“You’re terrible. Maybe another time. It’s a longer walk but...I’m feeling ramen?”

“Lead the way.”

You felt your steps dragging as you and Derek walked, trying your best to hide it from your boyfriend. Your lungs burned despite the walk normally being well within manageable, and several times you stumbled, doing your best to stay upright in the wake of a wave of exhaustion.

“I know you wanted to get lunch,” you said suddenly, pausing, “but can't we just get to-go and go back to my place? I’m pretty tired, and I really don't…I was just hoping for a nap before work tonight.”

He caught your hesitation and frowned. “Baby, what's wrong?”

“Nothing. I just...haven't been feeling myself for a couple of days. It's been a hard semester, that's all. The walk’s making it hit me a little.”

Derek stopped, turning to face you, eyes tracing over your face. No doubt he was taking in the deep, almost bruise-colored bags under your eyes that were only sort of hidden by your makeup. Or maybe it was the glossy sheen behind them. Once he had spotted one, the other signs started to jump at him: your fever-flushed cheeks and discolored skin, your dry, cracked lips, the slump of your shoulders, even your unusually loose and ill-fitted clothing. 

You watched his jaw working as he struggled to contain whatever thought was on the tip of his tongue.

“Go ahead and say it,” you said with a sigh, throat burning with the exaggerated airflow.

“Say what?”

“Whatever you’re holding back.”

“Baby girl, you look awful,” his tone was flat and his face apologetic. 

You tried to laugh, but it came out in more of a wet cough that made you wince, partially from the feeling, but mostly from the look he now wore.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“I’m not. It’s just a little cold,” you protested, the argument weakened by another coughing fit, this one hitting harder and leaving you wheezing. The fit, or the way you swayed, dizzy and unsteady as the blood rushed back out of your head when it was over, seemed to be the last straw.

“That’s it,” he said, tone serious and sharp. “We’re going to my mom’s and she and I are gonna take care of you.”

“But--”

“Nope. You lost your protest privileges.” He was already steering you back in the opposite direction of where you were headed. “You can call Nino and tell him you won’t be in while I drive.”

“I don’t want to rob you of lunch,” you tried to fight anyway, voice weak and throat raw.

“I’ll eat somethin at home. I can’t believe you’re still tryin to...” he shook his head, muttering fondly about stubborn Irish pains in the ass. 

~

After begrudgingly making the call to Nino, who sounded shocked but completely forgiving, you decided on one last ditch effort to escape admitting to and dealing with being sick. 

‘Help I’m being held hostage!’ you texted Sean. 

His response came only a moment later. ‘What??????!’ 

‘Your stupid bestfriend is making me admit I’m sick and keeping me from going to work.’

‘He’ A second text came through a moment later. ‘Good.’

‘WHAT? You’re my cousin, you’re supposed to be on my side. Rescue me. Before he sics his mother on me.’

There was a long pause, more than you thought Sean should need to respond. When the message finally came through, you couldn’t help glaring at the screen.

‘I’d rather fight an actual bear than Ma Sandoval.’

‘Ah. So you’re in on it. I see how it is. Your betrayal will not be forgotten.’

‘Feel better soon.’ He added a smile to the end, and you could practically see it as his signature smirk.

‘I hate you.’ 

You sighed, shoving your phone back in your pocket and slumped down in the seat. You closed your eyes, hoping that it would combat the movement of the car and the effect it was having on your headache. You were frustrated at Derek for making you admit something was wrong (even though you knew really that he was right to) and at the fact that it seemed like the minute you admitted it, the symptoms seemed to get immediately worse. 

The next thing you knew, you were stirred from a light doze by a change in movement. Instead of the steady, rocking vibration of the car and the smooth, cool feeling of the glass under your cheek, you were pressed close against something warm and solid, bobbing in a more natural, if uneven, rhythm. Your mind was sluggish but after a moment, and a soft, familiar chuckle as you buried your face into him to escape the sun in your eyes, you realized that it was because Derek was carrying you, bridal-style across the lawn and into his house. 

You suppressed an involuntary whine and the urge to cling to him as he settled you down in his bed. Heavy blankets that smelled like him were pulled up around your shoulders, the sudden warmth making you realize how cold you’d been.

“Not sick my ass,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hairline. “Get some sleep baby girl.” 

The door clicked quietly behind him and you let the comfortable darkness pull you back under.

~

Some unknown time later, there was a knock that pulled you out of strange, feverish dreams and you croaked something that you hoped sounded like come in, squinting against the light that poured through behind the person.

“Y/N, you should wake up for a little while,” Derek’s mother said, flicking on a bedside lamp. “I made you soup.” 

You pushed yourself up into a seated position and smiled gratefully at her. “Thank you Mrs. Sandoval.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, you are dating my son, you at least call me Ma. Just like everyone else.”

“Sorry,” you looked down bashfully, the word tasting foreign in your mouth. “Ma.” 

“Why are you not taking care of yourself?” she tutted as she set the bowl down and sat on the edge of the bed. “You are so busy trying to be able to be a fancy lawyer and change the world but you can’t do that if you drop dead. And of a little cold?” 

“I--”

“And you made Derek worry.” She placed a wrist against your forehead to check your temperature. “He’s going to fret over you forever, now. It’s how he shows his love. I hurt my back a few years ago, and still he is ‘Mami you shouldn’t reach so high, Mami let me get that for you, Mami don’t carry so many heavy groceries.’ Imagine when you have children. They won’t be able to scrape a knee. If your doctor doesn’t put you on bed rest, he will.”

Her words made you choke on the food you had just sipped into your mouth, sending you into a coughing fit that left you short of breath.

“See, you wouldn’t be doing that if you said you were sick to begin with.”

“I just...thought if I took some cold medicine, it would go away on its own. I’ve been so busy. And I didn’t...want anyone to worry, or think anyone would care?” you admitted sheepishly, looking down at the soup in your lap and the blanket over your legs and trying not to think too hard about what you were telling her.

“Mija, look at me,” she said firmly but kindly. When you didn’t follow her instruction, she used a hand to tilt your head up. “You have family now. You don’t have to do everything alone. Now eat  your soup.”

The sentiment, and the matter-of-fact way she delivered it, broke down a dam inside you, and suddenly you were crying, and she was hugging you, rubbing small circles on your back with one hand while the other cradled your head against her. You wanted to attribute your overwhelmed feelings to being sick, but in your heart you knew: it was a kind of acceptance and love that you had never expected, especially from someone who didn’t even have to like you. 

After sitting like that for several long minutes, letting you sob and offering you comfort, she shifted back to nurse-mode. 

“You need more fluids, not letting them all out through your eyes. Eat your soup, and I’ll go make you tea,” she said, nudging you back to rest against the headboard and standing. 

You laughed wetly and tried again to thank her, only to have it waved away.

~

“How is she?” Derek asked, almost as soon as he walked through the door a few hours later.

His mother laughed, shaking her head wryly. “She will survive. Just needs to rest for a few days. It’s a cold.”

“That’s like asking the tide to take a few days off,” he chuckled, until his mother fixed him with a glare. 

“Maybe if you told her the truth about how you felt, and she didn’t feel like she was on her own trying to be everything, she would.”

“Ma that’s not--”

“Derek Michael Sandoval, do not argue with me,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “You have been telling me for weeks now how much you love this girl, and it is obvious to a blind saint. Yet she is sick and doesn’t tell anyone because she thinks it would be a burden no one would want. Now what would give her that idea?”

Derek felt his stomach twist guiltily. It was true that he hadn’t told you he loved you, even though he was completely certain he did. But he thought it was for your benefit, to not scare you off by pushing too hard. He had never considered that it might be making things worse. He opened his mouth, looking for an answer to give his mother and found that he couldn’t get any words out. Instead, he just looked at her helplessly. 

She rolled her eyes. “You are both so stupid.”

~

You were fast asleep when he slipped through the door, and as he got ready for bed as quietly as possible, he kept finding himself stopping to look down at you. You were burrowed deep in the blankets, wrapped in one of his hoodies in addition as the fever made you shiver. You looked so small and fragile and vulnerable there in his bed, and his chest ached with a need to protect you, a desire for taking care of you and loving to be his entire purpose in life for the rest of his life and it nearly knocked him on his ass. 

As he slid under the covers beside you, you seemed to cuddle closer instinctively, and he wrapped his arms around you.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair. “And I know you can’t hear me right now, but baby girl, I promise, I’m gonna make sure you know, soon.”

[creepyalienghost]

Reunited

Deep down in the studio the ink creatures know only pain and struggle. The dreaded Alice Angel sacrifices all who she could get her hands on to fix her scars and her former beauty. The poor prophet sacrificed anyone he could find to please his lord. The projectionist struggled to remember anything other then his loop. Many lost souls struggle to even remember who they were anymore. All they could do is hear the voices swirling in there heads. With others not in the hive mind they either fight to keep themselves alive or hide in their spots, hoping to never run into the ink demon or the Angel.

The prophet was wondering the halls looking for my soup cans when suddenly it dawn on him that creatures were few and far between. Unlike before when you can’t turn the corner without running into one of the Butcher Gangs or seeing a Boris hiding. He found that strange and decided to take a look around though the walls.

He looked through holes, peaked in rooms and even going deep down below and sure enough so maybe we’re missing. All the butcher gang seen to have disappeared. The projectionist was no where to be found and even that new comer Sammy almost sacrificed wasn’t seen. Something was going on. Could this have been his lords doing? Or worst, that wicked angel’s? Sammy wanted to find out but he was also wondering of angering his lord. If it was his doing then maybe his lord would do the same to him...

He was caught up in his thoughts while walking that he didn’t notice the footsteps rushing up behind him until it was to late. The prophet was bagged over the head and tripped. He struggled and yelled for his lord for help as several creatures held him down or sat on top of him. They managed to tie his hands behind his back right before he felt a sharp pain in his neck. He screamed and cursed them out until the drug they infected him with started to work. His body went heavy. His hearing muffled. His sight started to fade. The prophet feared he was dying and had failed his lord. Hell, maybe this was his lords doing. Maybe this was what happened to the rest of them. He thought of this until his mind was even talking from him and soon after that the darkness of ink took over everything.

——-

It all felt like a dream. The sacrifices. The ink. Bendy and Alice. Everything for the pass so many years felt like a long band dream. But Sammy new it wasn’t a dream when his eyes flickered open and vision cleared. The first thing he noticed was that he was laying in hospital bed, hooked up to many Wires going to many different machines. There was one for his heartbeat. Another for monitoring his brain waves. A Machine pumping in blood inside him and the casual iv needle.

Sammy slowly sat up on the bed with Extreme exhaustion to looked around the room he was in. The walls were painted a pale blue and the floors were your typical white polished floor. It looked like any hospital but one from a sci fi movie. There was Technology Sammy has never seen before and has no idea what it is or how it’s use. Ones with big screens and buttons.

Just then a knock came from the door, making Sammy jump a bit and a nurse opened the door with a small smile, walking in. “Hello Mr. Lawrence. I’m glad to see your awake.” She held out hand as she introduced herself. “I’m nurse Beth. I’ll be taking care of you in here.”

Sammy took hold of her hand and shook it. “Thank you.” He replied. “I uh...I’m confused...what happened? How did we get out?...what ...what year is it” he asked as more and more questions start to form.

The nurse sat beside him and sat her clipboard next to her. “We’re not supposed to tell you guys everything right when you come to. It’s going to be broken in parts but I promise you. All your questions will be answered.” She relieved him. “But I am allowed to say you and your friends our at a government base and you guys are all free. Your old coworker Henry Stein came to us and told what Joey drew was doing. You are all safe now.”

Henry stein? Joey drew? His friends. Sammy hadn’t thought about them in so long and now his heart acted. He remembers Norman and the amazing guy he was. But he also remembered Joey. Joey was also a great guy before he lost his mind to the darkness. He missed both of them and badly wants to see them. “Can I see m-my friends?” He asked the nurse.

Nurse Beth nodded her head. “Yes. You may in a bit. I need to give you your daily check up first.”

Through out his check up, nurse Ann explained they would be here for a few weeks to watch and see how they would respond after being ink creatures for so long

and will be helped getting back into civilization with a new job and a home. She told him there be daily health checks in the morning and classes to understand the would now days.

After the check up, nurse Beth lead Sammy down the hallway to the wing where he and his friends would be staying at. “There’s access to a cafeteria for y’all and a tv room with games and books so y’all don’t get bored.” She informed him as she punches the code in for the wing.” Your room is Numble 20.”

“Thank you.” Sammy replied as he walked in. She nodded and closed it behind him. Sammy was on his own know.

There was chatter from down the hall. Some of the voices he recognized. Like Susie’s Jack’s and Norman’s he couldn’t wait to meet them again. He hoped they didn’t have no hard feelings from his role he unwillingly played in all this. However when he rounded the corner they all went silent pretty fast when they one by one noticed him. Sammy could see ether hatred or disappointment in each of their eyes. Norman’s hurt the worst. Sammy quickly got the hint we wasn’t welcome and left to find his room.

He sat in his bed staring at the green wall for some hours before a few security guards came to checked their wing. Sammy overheard one of them talking about Joey to his partner as they passed his room. “The psycho was placed in wing E.” Sammy Heard.

It got Sammy thinking again of their good times before. Joey was such a funny and sweet guy back then, handsome too. He spoiled Sammy with fancy dinners and parties as well as taught Sammy the wonders of magic and occult. It was fun and safe at first, but once Joey got the taste of the darkness is when everything changed. The abuse started, madness and control took over his mind and by then it was far to late to leave everything.

He wondered if Joey was still like that or like the way he use to be. He wanted to take the chance and see him. He stopped the security guard before they left the wing. “Can I see Joey Drew. Just once.” The guard didn’t laugh but looked at him like he was insane. “I know it’s crazy. But please just one time.”

The guard signed in hopelessness for the lost man. “I’ll ask and see if you two can meet.” With that the guard left though the wing doors.

———-

After receiving his check up the next morning, the same guard as before meet him out in the hallway. “Come with me.” He said right as Sammy stepped out. Sammy did so. They walked out the doors to the wing and down hallways, went further down an elevator and came to a new wing. The E wing.

This one was more Secure. The door here was metal and had an automatic lock that would lock it self if an alarm went off.

There was two guards station at the door to in case something went wrong. His guard had his ID checked and a minute later they both were though and heading down that hallway. The guard stopped at one of the meetings rooms and unlocked it. “You two have an hour.” Sammy nodded stepping though. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Joey sitting at one of the tables. One where their breakfast sat waiting.

He was much older unlike them. Of course he was he had been out in the real world growing older. Sammy could see the exhaustion in his face when he looked up at him. He was old and tired. Hair turned gray and wrinkly skin. Sammy realizes he doesn’t have much time left on this earth and this was likely the last time he would see him.

“It’s uh..nice to see you again.” Joey said to fill the silence between them. “ please...have a seat.” He offered and Sammy took it.

“Why?” Sammy ask, ignoring joeys attempt at welcoming. “Why did you ever let yourself get this mad? To start abusing me? To force me to hurt the others and putting us all in that hell?” He ask.

Joeys face turned to guilt and shame then. “I...I had a dream.” He answered Sammy’s question and continued. “That dream lead to magic so I could bring that dream to life which that lead to dark magic which corrupted me.” He sighed, disappointing in himself. “I shouldn’t had let it took me to a dark path, Sammy I am so sorry. If I could go back and changed everything I would.” He buried his head in his hands. “None of y’all deserved that. And you didn’t deserve the abuse I did. I’m really an sorry and I hope you can forgive me enough to enjoy one meal together?”

Sammy thought of this for a moment. He does seem genuine sorry and Is in his last days. He also missed these things they did together as well. Sammy nodded and smiled at Joey. “Let’s share one last meal together.” He replied and switched seats next to Joey. “And. It’s good to see you to”

[oscars-wifeyyy]

The Innocent 16

It was the day of the baby shower and the Martinez family along with Elizabeth were helping with the decorations and party. However, once Ruby and his mom started arguing about the decorations Elizabeth got a call from Cesar so she picked it up and walked outside.

"Wassup, mano?" Elizabeth asked,

"Why am I on house arrest?" Cesar groaned.

"Because the Prophets are outside and you still have a target on your back and no protection from the Santos," Elizabeth sighed, "look, just hang tight for a little longer, alright?" Cesar reluctantly agreed and hung up the phone.

An hour passed until Cesar, Monse, and Jamal arrived at the Martinez household so they could talk about the RollerWorld money, but since Elizabeth wanted nothing to do with it, she decided to let them do their thing as she went over to Oscar's place. She walked up the steps and walked straight inside to see Oscar, Sad Eyes, Rico, and Lorca there with the money stacked, but she paid no mind as she laid across the laps of the four boys, her head on Oscar's lap.

"Puta, get the fuck off of me," Lorca pushed her legs off of his lap, "you don't even hang out with us no more,"

"Hey, stupid. I got school, homework, and work so you can bring your dumbass to either one of my jobs or text me since you got my number," Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "Rico and Sad Eyes text me and I hang out with them because they text and ask,"

Lorca scoffed, "really, manos. Y'all don't invite me to y'alls hangouts?"

Sad Eyes laughed, "because your stupid ass always says some type of fucking excuse so we stopped. Don't come over here crying over that shit,"

Oscar groaned, "why did I introduce you pendejos to her? What the fuck is this friendship you got goin' on with my girl?"

"Oye!" Rico raised his voice, "it ain't our faults that she loves us more than you,"

"Awww!" Elizabeth saw Oscar glare at his boys, "don't say that to my little Spooky," she jutted out her lip and sat on his lap, putting his head on her chest, "mi precioso es mi número uno por vida,"

Oscar grinned at her before flicking off the three laughing boys that sat next to them on the couch, "alright, I'mma spend time with my girl so take all this shit somewhere else, yeah?"

Lorca nodded and grabbed the bag filled with money, but Rico rolled his eyes before grabbing the bag from Lorca's grasp, "fool, we ain't lettin you hold the damn money with your stupid ass," the three boys started arguing as they left the household to go somewhere else.

Oscar made Elizabeth straddle him, "wassup, mamita. Thought you were helping out Mario and little man with the baby shower?"

"I was," Elizabeth paused, "but they didn't need my help so I left and came here to hang with you. Oh! I got us something, but it's back at my place so let's go on an adventure to my place!" Elizabeth got up from his lap and pulled him off the couch.

Oscar chuckled, but grabbed his flannel and walked out behind Elizabeth to his car. The two drove to her house with the music on blast until they got to her place to see her mother's car in the driveway. The two got out and went inside to see Leticia laid down across the couch fast asleep so Oscar went to the hardworking mom and carried her to her room so she could sleep in her bed. When he left her room a minute later Elizabeth was holding up a bottle of peel-off charcoal face mask and a couple face masks.

"We, my handsome lover, are gonna do some self-care and if my mom is not up maybe we can give each other some attention," Elizabeth winked at the older man.

"Oh, you know me so well, hermosa," Oscar chuckled, "you got some snacks and movies ready then?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "when have I ever been around with no snacks in my hand? Of course I got snacks and the movies ready. We can even order some Postmates or take out too. Babe, we are going to have a blast,"

"ok, self care day then and since it is your birthday, anything you want to do I will do," Oscar laughed then winked at his girl who was blushing.

"Damn, you remembered? I didn't think you would to be honest. Alright, my love, it's 17th birthday vibes so sit down and let me put this on for you," Oscar sat down in front of Elizabeth, holding onto her legs, "alright the peel off mask is gonna be done in 10-15 minutes then we're gonna do the moisturizing mask after. Thank you, baby, for doing this with me,"

The two put on the peel off mask and watched Shameless on Netflix, letting the mask dry to peel it off. While they were waiting, there were a lot of laughs that caused Leticia to wake up and walk into Elizabeth's room only to see the two with animal themed face masks on their face looking at her like two deers in headlights. Leticia laughed, pulling out her phone and taking a picture of the couple shaking her head as she left, happy that her daughter had found happiness and let go of some of her responsibilities.

It was time for the baby shower so Leticia and Elizabeth were able to go over to Ruby's house as Oscar went back to his own to try and get the Santos to not trash his place. The mother and daughter duo walked into chaos around the house as bleeding kids were ushered into a room and Geny was way too drunk. Elizabeth walked up to Ruby, "yo, what is going on? There are bleeding kids, a drunk Geny, and Jamal and Cesar are in what looks like an argument," Ruby was about to speak, but Elizabeth stopped him, "never mind. I'm gonna go over to Cesar and Jamal then I am going to Monse,"

Elizabeth walked up to the two boys when she heard Cesar say, "I smashed Paula and I think Monse and I are back together," Jamal had a big outburst on health violations, but Elizabeth walked up to them, "it isn't your problem because, one, she ghosted, two, you gave her that ultimatum, and three, you were broken up or on a break, either way, you guys weren't talking to each other. Alright, now I'm going to Monse and see what she's doing," Elizabeth walked inside Mario's room to see the white girl and Monse talking on the bed, "oh, sorry, I will let you guys talk,"

Elizabeth walked around with a plate of food, but felt down because no one really remembered her birthday except for Oscar. She would have thought they would remember, but she let it go as she plastered a big smile on her face and took care of Geny who was at this point word vomiting.

"Oh, Eli! You know, I always thought you and Mario would be a great couple, you're smart, he's smart, great match," Geny giggled, "sure you were a freshman and he was a senior, but still. He was also in love with this skank, Angelica. Oh well, do you have any boyfriend?"

"Yeah, I do, Geny," Elizabeth chuckled, "You're not going to know who it is either,"

Geny groaned, "why not? I want to know to see if you and Mario can still have a shot to be together," Geny's eyes widened, "Oh! Maybe you can be with Ruby,"

Elizabeth gagged at the thought, "thanks, Geny, but my boyfriend is pretty great right now,"

Geny ran away to go into the bouncy house and Elizabeth saw Jamal there so she stayed inside since it was cold out and went to her mother, "hey, ma. This party is about to go into a disaster," Leticia laughed along her daughter.

It wasn't until Jamal and Geny came back inside that Elizabeth saw Jamal with a bleeding face and Geny apologizing after him. She stood up to help them out, but Ruby started yelling, "Ok! Party's over, everybody out!"

"Wait, wait, wait, what's happening?" Mario asked.

Monse ran out of the room, "Amber's having the baby!" Mario threw Jamal into Cesar's arms and into the room that Amber was in while Leticia ran inside with Geny.

"Who's Amber?" an Asian lady came up to Ruby.

"Do we get paid the whole night if we leave early?" Another white guy asked.

"Who are these people?" Monse looked at Ruby dumbfounded.

"Extras," Ruby muttered, making Elizabeth and Monse look at the people wide eyed, "What? She didn't gave any friends or family so I had to improvise. Fifty bucks plus some food isn't a bad gig," Ruby handed out the money.

"Where did you get that kind of money," Cesar asked.

"I know those bills," Jamal said, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Using against my twenty five percent. It's permitted in the bylaws," Ruby said.

"There are no bylaws!" Jamal whisper-yelled, flailing his arms.

"There are bylaws!"

"Give me this!" Jamal took a hold of the money as the whole gang did as well and Geny went back out to the living room, "The ambulance is on its way! The baby is coming now! Everyone needs to pray!"

When Geny went in the room again, Jamal started talking, "Guys, guys, it's the curse. Don't you see? This is all building to something. I found the money then Olivia died, and now we're back at the scene of the crime, money in hand which means-"

"Someone else is going to die," Monse said.

"The baby," Ruby zoned out, looking at the money.

"We have to get rid of it," Cesar stared down at the money in his hand.

"Technically, we just gave a bunch of cursed money to all of those extras," Jamal looked at the front door.

"They're actors. No one is going to miss them. Let's go!" Ruby said.

"Wait, we don't know how to get rid of a curse!" Elizabeth said, "curses have rules. We can't just throw it away," Abuelita walked past.

"Abuelita!" Jamal called, "The money is cursed! How do we destroy it?"

"Burn it! Burn the money," Abuelita went inside the room.

The crew went out to the backyard and grabbed the trashcan and the bag of money, "You've torn our neighborhood apart," money was thrown in, "you've ruined relationships," another group of money was thrown in, "and stolen our youth," the last bit of money was thrown in, "but it's over. Curse be gone!" Jamal lit the money on fire, but Abueltia came running out.

"Stop! Stop! Jamal! Don't burn the money!" Abuelita threw the money on the ground, "the money isn't the thing that doesn't belong in this house! The money is not cursed!"

Now everybody was back inside, eating the gender reveal cake and laughing, "oh, I'm gonna lie," Ruby said, "this cake is good,"

"It just should've been chocolate," Jamal shrugged while everyone laughed, Mario scoffed, "too soon, man!"

"Mario, I want you to now that if that beautiful baby was yours, I would've loved it, but woo! Thank God, you're not gonna be a daddy just yet,"

"You dodged a bullet," Elizabeth looked at Mario.

"We all did," Ruby said.

"That girl really didn't know. And that was a big ass bun, fully risen. Ok!" Jasmine said.

"The truth always comes out," Abuelita said.

[thetomorrowshow]

Slower Than Words Ch. 5

1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12

I legitimately feel sorry about this chapter! It wasn’t meant to be this intense, just lightly angsty. Virgil really threw himself under the angst bus for this one so buckle up y’all

cw: gagging, unethical eye operations (not in great detail), panic attack, kidnapping, by a cult specifically, character being restrained (both on a table and not), brief mention of blood, fever, intense pain, vomit, that’s a lot of warnings, passing mention of drugs, singular mention of an IV, surgical implications

~

Everything was decidedly not going to be okay, Virgil realized several days later when he was rudely awoken by rough hands pulling him out of bed and out the door before he could say a word. He opened his mouth to scream and had a rag stuffed in it, which was also rude.

While being dragged down a hallway, Virgil took the moment to reflect on his current mental state, which was scarily calm considering what was happening. Shock, probably. Even more likely was the overwhelming gratitude he was feeling that it was him leaving the safety of the room, not Patton. That gratitude gave way to fear (finally) as he was brought into another room, one with a distinctly medical smell.

The room. Not the room, please, not the place where his eyes burned and he could hear himself screaming but was fairly detached, watching from the side as the men and women in white coats leaned over him and measured his reaction. The place where he was left alone, for weeks, as his eyes slowly healed but never saw again. The place where they had strapped him down, hadn't drugged him even as he struggled and sobbed with pain—

They were doing that now, Virgil realized with a start, and he began to fight, trying to force them away and roll off the table, but they already had his ankles secured.

“Get that out of his mouth, we're not monsters.”

Virgil would have cried at hearing words that didn't come from his own mouth if he weren't already crying. The rag was pulled from between his teeth, and he gasped out incomplete sentences of pleas and desperation.

“Virgil, is it?” a woman said.

“My name, that's my name,” Virgil sobbed, almost incoherently. No one had said it in so long, he almost wanted them to say it again.

“Well Virgil, we're here to help. All we need you to do is lie still.”

Virgil would have promised anything, but he was suddenly aware of the fact that they had finished strapping him down. He didn't have a choice here. He tried to calm his hitching sobs, aware that he definitely looked not only like a fool, but weak.

“Wh-what are you going to do?” he asked pitifully. There were several long moments of silence. Then the same woman before spoke, saying eerily familiar words.

“We're going to fix you, in the name of the Prophets.”

Virgil screamed.

-

Virgil had been in the back of this van for far too long. His mind was still in overdrive with fear, but now he could wonder—why had he been kidnapped? There was nothing special about him. He was just like any other college kid, trying to make his way in life with money in the negative and relationships even lower. The only person who might care about him was his roommate Roman, but he also had no money and therefore would never be able to pay a ransom. Not to mention, Roman was promising. He was only failing geology, he'd just gotten a role in a production at the high end theater across town, and he had a boyfriend who definitely didn't care about Virgil.

There was nothing he could do to escape whatever awful fate these strangers had for him. They didn't look too dangerous, all four men wearing square-looking jeans and plain t-shirts, but none of them had very built figures. Only one looked like he worked out, which was a testament to the fact that Virgil was a pathetic weakling. He should've splurged and bought that gym membership.

The van stopped for hours at one point, Virgil assumed in a hotel parking lot or something. He would've liked to get out of the cramped space, but it was clear that wasn't happening any time soon. His hands were tied to his ankles (a fact that had sent him into more than one panic attack) and both were pulled behind his back in a hog tie, and a bandana was bundled up in his mouth and tied around the back of his head. He could tell it was night; some of the light from the part of the van with seats filtered in during the day. It was nice to have a little light. Darkness scared him—he always slept with the blinds on the window turned to let some moonlight in, now that he was far too old for a nightlight. Now, however, there was zero light and Virgil was barely keeping himself from freaking out. He just had to survive the night, then nothing would ever be dark again.

They were back on the road. The men chatted loudly, but so many of the words seemed to have a different context for them than they did for him. Haven? Blessings? Liberating? It sounded like a cult, and Virgil once again attempted to free himself of the ropes. The only thing he gained was rope burn.

When the door opened and Virgil blinked at the sudden light and wave of heat, he had to assume they'd arrived. Instead of moving (or shooting) him, two people stared. A man and a woman, the man in a simple suit, the woman in an even simpler dress. Sweat trickled down Virgil's temple as he stared back at them, his jaw aching and limbs strained.

“This one will do,” the woman said eventually. The man nodded agreement, and then the ones that had kidnapped him in the first place were dragging him out of the van. Virgil maintained eye contact with the two as he passed. What did that mean? What did they need him for?

The sun beat down on them as the four men carried Virgil across a dirt road. There were small, one-story houses lining the street, but nobody outside. Virgil only had a moment to wonder why before he was being ushered into a large building. It was cooler inside than out, but still stuffy, like the air conditioning was one of those old window units.

He was carried into a room that smelled like a hospital—and looked like one. The counters were laden with different tools that he had no idea what they were to be used for, but looked vaguely like they belonged in a horror movie. The four men rolled him onto the operating table in the center of the room, then set to work untying him. Virgil lay still, hoping to trick them into thinking he would be compliant. He'd wait until his legs were free, then start fighting back.

That was a no-go, as it turned out. The men easily grabbed his legs and pulled a strap over them, securing him into place. He managed to flail his fist into one person's nose, and felt a deep satisfaction when the man doubled over, bleeding. It was quickly snuffed out as the other three got a hold of his arms and strapped them down as well. Then they all left, even the man Virgil had hit, shutting the door and leaving him alone.

Virgil's eyes darted around the room, taking it all in. The only sound was his heavy breathing. He flexed his fingers and toes a few times, trying to get feeling back into them. He groaned deep in his throat as they began to tingle, then ache. He shifted a little, the sweat pooling under his shirt and hoodie making him supremely uncomfortable.

The door opened with a bang, startling Virgil enough that he jumped. Quite a few—seven, maybe—people in white lab coats entered, the last man wearing plain clothes and looking less like a nerd than the others and more like a bodyguard. Virgil swallowed. What were they going to do to him?

“Hello, Virgil,” an older man with a scar on his chin said, smiling too wide. He leaned over the table, and Virgil tried to lean away. The man tsked, his smile dimming slightly.

“Now, that won't do. Don't be scared, Virgil. We aren't going to hurt you.” The man frowned for a split second, then chuckled. “I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to lie. This will likely be very painful, Virgil.”

Virgil couldn't force his eyes away from the man's, cold brown eyes boring into his soul. He felt the fear rise, bubbling out of his throat in a muffled cry, even as a tear slipped out of his eye and rolled toward his temple.

“We're going to break you, in the name of the Prophets.”

Then they were holding his head still, and—no—no—not his eyes, please, anything else—

Virgil screamed.

-

Virgil didn't know how long he feverishly drifted, but it was certainly hours. His eyes—it was more than burning, somehow. It was the fire of a thousand suns, concentrated in his eye sockets and pounding through his head. All he could feel was the pain, not knowing where he was or aware of any outside stimulus.

The moment Virgil recognized that it was terrifying was the moment that he could feel his fingers. Suddenly, he was no longer a miasma of pain, but a human being (engulfed by pain) again. That was also when he realized there was something pressed up to his lips. He opened his mouth—water, warm and stale but still water—flooded his dry mouth and and he choked as it hit the back of his throat. The bottle was pulled away, and Virgil spluttered for a few moments before all the water was clear of his airway. Exhausted by the fight and debilitated from the pain, Virgil let his eyes slip closed and drifted again.

When he next woke, it was to incomprehensible pain and the sensation of moving, as if whatever he was laying on was being moved. Barely letting himself wonder where he was headed, Virgil drifted again.

The cycle repeated for a while before Virgil found himself fully conscious. It hurt to turn his head, so he laid still, despite all the noises around him. He was shaking constantly, and he was pretty certain he was strapped down. The room wasn't cold, exactly, but Virgil longed for a blanket, something to perhaps weigh down his legs and ease the quaking.

“Can you hear me?”

Virgil wasn't sure if the person was talking to him or not, so he didn't respond. The other noises around the room—a sink running? A quiet conversation?—continued as if nothing happened.

“Can you hear me?”

This time, the voice was louder, and distantly familiar. Virgil nodded slightly, cut short as he grimaced in pain. Moving his head made the pain spike, inducing nausea. Now he felt he was going to throw up, as well as shiver to death. Great.

“Tell me your name.”

“Virgil,” he rasped. He'd never given these people his last name—how they'd found out his first was a mystery to him—but it didn't quite count as an act of defiance when just saying his first name had sapped all of his energy. He tasted copper in the back of his mouth and wondered vaguely if he'd screamed so much that his throat had bled.

“He's conscious enough. Try to get him to stand up.”

Virgil was trying to figure out how to respond to this when he registered the sound of Velcro tearing, then hands grabbed his arms and pulled him off of the surface. Immediately his headache spiked, and he cried out, barely aware of his knees buckling and hitting the floor.

A sigh was heard. Virgil sniffed back tears, despite the little voice in the back of his head telling him he had literally zero dignity left. He didn't want to cry, especially not at just standing up.

Then suddenly, they were moving. Virgil struggled to get his feet underneath him, but failed and resigned himself to being dragged. He was certain he was about to pass out. His head grew fuzzy, limbs filled with pins and needles. The sound of himself being pulled on the concrete was even louder than anything that had just been going on in the room; it filled his ears and pounded along to his heartbeat.

He distantly heard a laugh, then gasped as someone let go and his head cracked against the floor. It wasn't too bad, he wasn't very far from the floor anyway, but the pain of the impact still caused him to lose the battle against his stomach, vomiting all over himself and the floor. Some commotion followed that; Virgil's head was spinning and splitting and his eyes burned and put simply, he couldn't keep track.

He drifted again, laying on the floor in his own sick, not sure what was real and what wasn't. Too soon, though, he was brought back to the waking world by a jet of water hitting him square in the stomach. He jerked, then spluttered as the water hit his face. Somehow, while shocking, it was more pleasant than the pain, a nice distraction. That didn't last, though. Soon enough, Virgil was shivering and numb as the water kept spraying, a sob tearing from his throat as more and more went up his nose.

Finally it stopped, the only sounds being the water dripping from his soaked clothing and his shuddering sobs. Virgil couldn't stop crying and shaking, and there was only one thought in his head, playing over and over: I want Patton. Please I want Patton. Please Patton please I want Patton please—

After what felt like hours of just laying there, hands grabbed his wrists again and began dragging. Virgil didn't even try to stand, or stop crying. He was so cold. So, so, cold, and he just wanted Patton, just wanted to be safe. . . .

More noise—so loud—and a little more strain on his arms before he was dropped, palms bouncing lightly off the floor. Virgil wanted to curl up on his side, hoard what little body heat he had, but he couldn't move. He couldn't move, and they were coming closer. His sobs ratcheted up as he just knew they were right above him, holding those tools and moving closer and—

Someone touched him, and Virgil whimpered loud. He couldn't—not again—please no, please please please no—

They took his hand and touched his wrist—an IV, they were just putting drugs in him—with warm fingers, tracing something—

Tracing . . . something. . . .

P-a-t-t-o-n.

“Patton,” Virgil croaked. Patton was here. Patton was safe, Patton would make everything all right. With that knowledge, Virgil finally fell into a comfortable sleep.

~

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @enragedbees @gotta-love-alejandra @bunny222 @basiic-emo @patt0n-sanders @rosiepupper @fangirlgeekandfreak @dn-fan21 @that2000skid @remy-the-lemon-berry @itsadastraperaspera @xionbean @sanderssides-angst @hell-yea-we-gay-tonight @maybedefinitely404

[mymarifae]

cappuccino cookie, and their pet, double shot trouble! ☕ they’re my cookiesona because why not

all written info like story, relationships, etc. under the cut! 

Cappuccino Cookie

The Witch used only the finest espresso beans when baking this Cookie, but it still wasn't enough! Cappuccino Cookie is always craving more and more caffeine...There's no such thing as too much coffee! If they're not drinking coffee and writing away, they can be found asleep somewhere. They're sort of scatter-brained, but they have a heart of honey. Cappuccino Cookie is determined to do great things! Now, if only they were a bit more focused…

Ability

Collects Espresso Jellies to fill the Inspiration Gauge. Once full, Cappuccino Cookie stops running to rapidly write, earning points, until the gauge is empty again. At the end of the ability, Cappuccino Cookie produces a Finished Product for a greater amount of points. Level Up for more points per writing session.

Magic Candy:

Espresso Jellies restore some energy. The stronger the enchanted power, the more energy restored per jelly.

Magic Candy Ingredient: Shiny Espresso Bean

Rumor has it Cappuccino Cookie eats these raw and by the handful.

Affection Jelly

No one can make your dreams come true for you.

Double Shot Trouble

Two hyperactive, sweet little coffee bean kitties! Aren't they just adorable! They seem to really like each other...mostly.

Pet Ability

Creates Espresso Shot potions that significantly slow down the Cookie's energy drain. Revives Cookie once, but does not create potions after revival. Level Up for more frequent potion creation.

New!:

I’m gonna change the world!

Loading Messages

I could use another nap.

Has anyone seen my pen?

...Aw, fudge!

Maybe I should go get some coffee.

Don't give up! You've got this!

And so the mighty heroes… No, no! All wrong!

What was I doing again?

Tired

Zzz...

Talk

Hey!

What’s up?

Aw, thanks!

You’re so sweet!

Wanna go grab a coffee?

What am I working on? Um...

I’d like some nice, shiny paper to write on...

The ocean...is a scary thing.

Gift

This is perfect! I love it! (given Shiny Silver Paper)

Oh, don’t mind if I do! (given Shiny Espresso Bean)

Oh, a present? Thank you! (given whatever)

No! Get that away from me! (given Solid Blue Sugar Crystal)

Daily gift

Do you want this? (50 rainbow cubes)

Relationships

Chestnut Cookie: What a sweet kid...! So bright and curious! (friendly)

Cocoa Cookie: Let’s go grab a drink! It’s on me this time! (trust)

Cotton Candy Cookie: Ah, the woes of being a writer! (friendly)

Prophet Cookie: I know, I know... (tension)

Reputation

Chestnut Cookie: They write for the newspaper sometimes! They’re really nice too! (friendly)

Cocoa Cookie: Maybe next time I’ll get coffee, and you’ll get hot cocoa... Ha! Imagine. (trust)

Popcorn Cookie: They say they don’t like movies... What’s wrong with movies?! (tension)

Prophet Cookie: The only one holding yourself back is you, young one. (friendly)

[maggiewrites]

team starkid's “black friday” musical

feel free to edit where necessary!

"Don't be scared!"

"His belly is so squishy!"

"He's all that you wanted! He's all that you needed!"

"Do the wiggle!"

"Doors open at 7am,"

"Lose your mind!"

"Drop dead!"

"How many times are they gonna play that ad?"

"Relax, it's just a toy,"

"Cabbagepatch Kids were just toys, and there were RIOTS over those things. Literal riots."

"Well, we're here. So you can get off your soapbox,"

"I mean, he is an asshole."

"Hey, everything's going to be okay, okay?"

"Who are you?"

"Well, we haven't put a label on it yet!"

"But we are intimate."

"That stuff is for little kids!"

"I do not get flashbacks, I remember bad things vividly."

"I didn't do for you."

"I don't have a drill press, and even if I did, how would it fit into the sedan?"

"This kid deserves one fucking thing that he asked for."

"Even now it's a dream. the kind that makes you question reality."

"Someone's gotta pay for it."

"I couldn't hold him still enough to teach him guitar."

"I hit replay on that night, over and over again 'til it gives up the fight. But there's no end - there's no end - there's no ending in sight."

"What have I done?"

"I don't say it enough. I'm scared you blame me. I'm scared you blame me for your luck."

"I'll give up both of my arms to get you on track."

"All I need is getting you walking towards the paradise you dream."

"Excuse me, you think it's okay for me to park here?"

"I was hardly valedictorian."

"How does it feel to be a role model?"

"You know, I could. But that would be violating company policy, and everyone's telling me I should be more responsible lately, so I'm gonna go with them on this one."

"These little friend-o's are gonna take you so far into the black, that you ain't never coming back."

"You are gonna make a killing!"

"You'd think that a drop-out with a record would be thankful to have a job."

"See, she CAN be taught!"

"We'll see who's laughing by the end of the day!"

"Where's my sister!?"

"Do I have to put a leash on you, like a dog, or my cousin Oliver-"

"Is today a good day or a bad day?"

"Oh great. Now we gotta talk to the imaginary spider from outer space."

"Bad blood. Crossed. Black and white."

"Can you translate? I don't speak crazy."

"Don't you fucking laugh."

"Cross my heart. Hope to die."

"I'd make a great dad, I'm just saying."

"Seven fucking thousand!"

"My mom's a bitch!"

"It beats being broke."

"That's not how cameras work, babe."

"We're missing in action!"

"Get yourself a new trailer. 'Cause this one is broke. as. shit!"

"Let's go, I need a cigarette."

"I did not cut, I bought my place in line!"

"That's called a bribe, and it's illegal...Or it should be."

"I hope you don't get a toy. I hope you fucking die."

"Well, my children were accidents. You don't see me pushing my problems onto anyone else."

"Not that ra ra school spirit cheerleader bullshit that you never grew out of."

"Did you think your neighbours didn't notice you wearing sunglasses on cloudy days? Turtlenecks in the summer? Well, they knew what was happening, they just didn't care."

"What do you say when you love each other? What do you say when years have past?"

"Just skip to the fucking!"

"Nah, I'm shopping for myself, I like dolls... I'm just kidding. I don't like dolls. Least not, like that."

"We're not liable for anyone who dies."

"You should be ashamed of yourself, you disgusting little pervert."

"It's mine! It's mine! It's certainly mine!"

"You never should settle for a lifetime that is handed to you. There's always a line to be cut and someone to barrel through."

"Let go! Do you have a death wish?"

"This is not the type of place you can haggle."

"Don't do it. Two doors, not one."

"Bad place. Black and white."

"Look, I know you're nervous to leave home. But you gotta trust me. It's gonna be so much better for you out of there."

"He's got a knife!"

"No, I'm not frightened! I'm annoyed!"

"Oh, I don't know if you wanna wanna wanna wanna wanna wanna fuck with me."

"And you - you are the most special person here."

"You keep looking for it in the arms of other men, or the smiles of your ungrateful little brats. But you have been cruelly denied it."

"That's the kind of bullshit you feed to your therapist or your life coach."

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Back off or I will send a laser guided ballistic missel to your house in Denver, and you will be scrapping what's left of your kids off the fucking pavement."

"I will bite your nipple off."

"That was a joke, sir."

"Behind the veil of the universe you perceive, are entities both ageless and foul. And these eldritch forces are rising. There's a creature at work here, one with designs on humanity far worse than any nightmare we can comprehend."

"There are monsters and there are men."

"When the clock strikes three, see you at the rink!"

"-the fuck I am watching?"

"Maybe he crawled for help."

"You've got to forgive yourself, 'cause if you don't, how is anyone gonna forgive me?"

"You look just the same as I always remember."

"Take me back in time to love you."

"You don't look the same at all as I remember. The light has left your eyes."

"If you asked me, I'd still go to prom with you."

"Hold me closer than before."

"Tell me something Santa would know."

"This is the best movie ever!"

"Bet you didn't guess that the lord of despair would be so cute and cuddly, did ya!"

"That's heavy."

"You want to send me to the fucking Twilight Zone!? To have a sit-down with the devil? Fuck that, fuck that, that's all folks!"

"We're trying to stop the birth of a god."

"If we have faith, we will be rewarded with a cuddly toy."

"Kill them! Fucking kill them!"

"I dislike that word. 'Cult'. No, it's a new exciting religion that I started."

"I've met God. He had nothing nice to say about you."

"I demand your love and worship too."

"I will destroy everything, and then I will destroy everything."

"I'm in the black and white now. It's just like California, it never rains."

"I swear on my own grave."

"You're being a rotten little banana. I'm going to have to peel you. I'm going to split you in two. I'm going to eat you."

"We don't get tricked. We're grown ups."

"You don't scream at a child, it frightens them. You lure them in delicately. And you put them to sleep."

"I'm sorry, babe. No dice."

"The poor get poorer, and the rich, well, they keep getting richer."

"I can't be evil, I'm a status quo democrat."

"It happened on your watch, your time is running out."

"There's something that's beautiful, being awake for my funeral."

"Is there some lesson to learn? Should I even have wanted?"

"Only my ashes will see the sea."

"I'm authorizing you to use my firearm."

"Look me in the eye, and make a solemn vow to become your best self now."

"Gather your forces. There's a warrior of light trapped in deep sleep. Wake the warrior, kill the prophet, save the world."

"I hope they didn't tow my car."

"Kids don't want that thing. They're all into Fortnite now."

"Everyone's dying, and that includes me too."

"I failed you once, and I will fail you again."

"You're not that cute, in fact, you're real fucking ugly."

"Wake up! Belittled you isn't as fun if you're not upset."

"You've been outfoxed by a fucking moron."

"Oh, the plans he has you and me, me more favourably."

"Do you see what I see?"

"Tomorrow will come."

"Tomorrow won't come."

[tes-trash-blog]

So, uh, a while back you mentioned making a post about how Prisoner McNord might affect the player experience/perceptions of the "default" and I would be super interested in reading that

So!

I have a few thoughts already on what is considered “default” in Skyrim to be expanded upon in a future shitstorm rant (it’s on the list, between Almalexia Is Interesting Actually and Even More Crying About Snow Elves Part 17: My Tears Have Become Sentient And Are Also Crying).

And as always, keep in mind that Skyrim is coming up on 9 years old, elements of it have not aged well, and this is in no way, shape, or form meant to be a “If you like Skyrim then you’re Bad” rant. In case you haven’t noticed, I kind of love that game. It has flaws; all games do, and frankly it’s a miracle this game is as solid as it is. The writers are that, writers. They had deadlines to make, hardware limitations to consider, and above all else, worked for a company that wanted to make money.

To keep this relatively short I’ll focus on how your perception of Skyrim is influenced by the first few minutes of the game via Ralof, the Nordiest Nord to Nord since Ysgranord, and how the writers really, really really wanted you to hold on to that perception.

Overanalysis and spoilers (Metal Gear Solid, Borderlands, and Bioshock respectively yes this will all make sense in context) under the cut.

Part 1: How To Make A Perspective In Three Easy Steps

As the saying goes, first impressions are lasting impressions. This is evident in.. well, every bit of media you can find. The first chapters of a book, the first episode of a show, the first 15 minutes of a video game, all as a general rule:

1.) Introduces the setting, a part of the main plot, and with these two, sets the tone of the medium (high fantasy movie, light hearted TV show, mystery series, horror game, etc.). Exceptions exist, especially in horrors, mysteries, and certain visual novels, but even these exceptions rely on setting a tone so they can subvert your expectations later on.

2.) Give you an idea of what is going on. This is normally accomplished with exposition of some sort; Star Wars had its famous screen crawl expositing the dark times in the Galaxy, Borderlands literally begins with “So, you want to hear a story..”, Metal Gear Solid briefs Solid Snake (you, the player character) on a vital mission to save two hostages and end a terrorist threat, so on and so forth. And again, there are exceptions: Bioshock purposefully disorients you with a plane crash in the middle of the ocean so you’re inclined to trust the first person who talks to you.

This all serves to suspend disbelief, immerse you, and earn your trust. This is a new world, you have no idea what’s going on, so you’re gonna take cues from someone who does. Combine points 1 and 2, and that..

3.) Gives you an idea of what is “good” and what is “bad”. Damn near every story has a central conflict, you gotta pick a side, and there’s gonna be a bias as to which one is superior or morally just. Using Bioshock again, this mysterious man named Atlas guides you through the first level, and tells you how to fight and survive in the hostile environment of Rapture; meanwhile, Andrew Ryan taunts and belittles you, and also has a giant golden bust of himself. The shorthand is: Atlas is humble, helpful, and good, while Andrew Ryan is a megalomaniac who wants you dead. Leaning on Borderlands again, the first voice you hear is literally a guardian angel telling you not to be afraid, and that you are destined to do great things. Once more with Metal Gear: Your organization and your commanders are good, you are good because you’re saving innocent people, and FOXHOUND is bad because they’re terrorists who have the means to launch a nuclear warhead.

Keeping all this in mind, let’s do a quick runthrough of the first, let’s call it 15 minutes of Skyrim. No commentary on my end, just a play by play of the beginning of the game.

Part 2: First Impressions In Action

You wake up on a cart. Your vision is hazy, and you are clearly disoriented. You see a man bound and gagged, another man in rags, and several men dressed like soldiers. Everyone on the cart is tied up, and the people driving the cart are wearing a neat, vastly different uniform.

Then comes the famous line: “You! You’re finally awake! You were caught trying to cross the border, got caught in that Imperial ambush same as us, and that thief over there!” The thief bitterly remarks how these damn Stormcloaks had to cook up trouble in a nice and lazy Empire. The Nord who first spoke with you nobly says that we’re all brothers and sisters in these binds.

The presumed Imperial tells you all to shut up. Undeterred, the thief and the Stormcloak provide more exposition: The gagged man is the leader of the resistance, is supposedly the true High King, and since he’s on the cart, it’s clear that everyone on board is bound for the executioner’s block. The thief is terrified; the Nord accepts his fate, but takes a moment to opine on better days when he flirted with girls and “when the Imperial walls made him feel safe.” There is also a remark about General Tulius and the Thalmor agents; the Nord, in a rare bit of anger, damns the Elves and insinuates they had a hand in this capture.

It’s execution time. General Tulius gives a speech about how Ulfric started a civil war and killed the former High King; Ulfric, being gagged, cannot say a word in defense. A Stormcloak is executed to mixed reactions (“You Imperial bastards!” “Justice!”, etc.). The thief runs away; he is shot by Imperial archers, demonstrating the futility of escape. It’s your turn. The Nord in Imperial armor states you’re not on the list; the Imperial captain doesn’t care and orders you to the block anyway.

You see the headsman’s axe rise up when, as if the gods intervene, a dragon appears and interrupts your execution. In the chaos, you run with the Stormcloaks. The game does not give you the option to run away alone, or with the Imperials; until you meet Hadvar again in the fire and death, you take orders from Ulfric.

Part 3: The Crux

A lot happens in the first few minutes of Skyrim. You’re disoriented from being unconscious, and that’s compounded by your two near death experiences (point 2), the first person you meet is a calm, almost reassuring mouthpiece of exposition while the other side, at best, doesn’t care if you die (points 2 and 3), one major aspect of the plot is revealed (point 1, and the tone is that this is a classic Rebellion story).

And people love rebellion stories. Americans especially; we spend billions on the day when a bunch of white guys said “fuck you” to a bunch of other white guys. With the additional layer of when Skyrim was developed, by who, and in what landscape it was written.. Yeah. There may be two ways to go for the Civil War questline, but for most players (myself included!) their first gut instinct is going to be “side with the guys who didn’t just try to kill me.”

It’s the same song and dance. In Bioshock, your instinct is to trust the Irish guy who wants to help you get out of Rapture alive, but he needs your help first. In Borderlands, your instinct is to trust the woman who is literally called a guardian angel, and she shows her compassion by asking you to help the people of Fyrestone and the poor robot who got hurt in a gunfight. In Metal Gear, your instinct is to shut down the threat because terrorists are evil and these ones are not just terrorists, they’re deserters. Hell, even in other Elder Scrolls games the plot is laid out by helping hands: you’re a prisoner being contacted by your murdered friend, and given the goal to stop Jagar Tharn (Arena), you’re a Blades agent tasked with putting a vengeful spirit to rest that leads you to a weapon that can secure the Empire’s power (Daggerfall), Azura literally tells you not to be afraid, and that you destined to stop an old threat (Morrowind), and a soon-to-be-assassinated Emperor voiced by Actual Grandpa Patrick Stewart recognizes you in a prophetic dream (Oblivion).

Where Skyrim departs from these games, and even the other Elder Scrolls titles, is how much it enforces the first thing you see as solidly good and evil, and how little it tries to subvert that perception. Remember point 2, when the game makes it clear that this person is trustworthy? Therein lies the bread and butter of psychological horror, mysteries, and heart wrenching plot twists: that trust gets tested, and often broken.

The rebel leader Atlas? He’s somehow more evil than Andrew Ryan, and has subtly controlled you the entire time with a command phrase (“Would you kindly..?”). You are unable to stop yourself when you bludgeon Andrew Ryan to death at Ryan’s command. “A man chooses,” he tells you. “A slave obeys.” His final words are him telling you that you are a puppet, only able to obey.

The end of Borderlands reveals that “Angel” was watching you the entire time.. from a Hyperion satellite. You were tricked into opening a Vault holding back a dangerous monster, and you don’t even know why. Borderlands 2 goes further into just what (or rather who) Angel is: a teenage girl and a powerful Siren, used by her own demented, evil, father, Handsome Jack, to manipulate the Vault Hunters and gain more power for himself. Her final mission given to you is simple: she wants you to set her free and end her father’s mad march to power by killing her.

Metal Gear Solid ultimately plays it straight in that you stop the terrorists and disable the nuclear threat, but you don’t emerge from the rubble as an action hero; you’re forced to kill your own brother, the terrorist cell is revealed to be composed almost entirely of people exploited by your organization, and you secretly carry  a virus designed to kill the people you were trying to save. War, as it turns out, is not as clear-cut as “we good, they bad”. The people you’ve killed without thinking are your genetic brothers. Sniper Wolf, the assassin who shot your commander’s niece, survived a genocide and has never known a life outside of war. Psycho Mantis’ telepathic gifts were exploited by both the KGB and FBI until he lost his mind. Ocelot is Ocelot.

Oh, but those are other games. What about The Elder Scrolls? Well..

In Daggerfall, your search for hidden correspondence leads you to finding the Mantella, a sort of soul gem that can power the superweapon everyone wants: The Numidium. There are six entities total who want the Mantella, some for their personal gain, one to make a home for his people, and one so he may finally die; the Underking’s soul is in that gem, you see, and he’s been trapped in this misery since the days of Tiber Septim.

In Morrowind, Dagoth Ur recognizes you not as a schlub with a dummy thick journal, but as his oldest and dearest friend. The Empire who guided you for so long? They’ve manipulated you into taking down the Tribunal, destroying the one weapon that could stand against their might, and depending on your interpretation of “then the Nerevarine sailed to Akavir”, have possibly killed you.

And what of everyone’s favorite game in the series to mock? Surprise! Oblivion isn’t even about you, hero! It’s about the actual chosen one, Martin Septim! Sure you can join the Thieves’ Guild and cavort about as Grey Fox, or uncover the traitor of the Dark Brotherhood, or run off and become the Mad God.. but none of those events actually acknowledge you. To be the Grey Fox is to literally be forgotten, by the time the Dark Brotherhood questline is complete there is effectively no more Dark Brotherhood, and to become Sheogorath is to lose yourself entirely. The Hero of Kvatch is one who is ultimately forgotten. Your actions were important, have no doubt, but such is the fate of the unsung hero: they’re not sung about.

Even Arena plays a little bit with your expectations in that the Staff of Chaos alone isn’t enough to stop Jagar Tharn; you need friendship (just kidding it’s a magic gem in the Imperial Palace). Skyrim.. kinda glosses over that. They land a few punches, but for them to stay with you, you have to keep an open mind.

Part 4: Why does that matter?

Because if your expectations are never subverted, your trust never tried in any meaningful way, then your perception of a very specific, spoon-fed worldview is never challenged. The trust you build with a group that is, in essence, a fascist paramilitary cult is never shaken in any way that’s meaningful. You get some lines intended to evoke sadness when you sack Whiterun, but by then it’s too late. Not that it matters; at the end of the Stormcloak questline, there’s not much question about who was in the right. You never lose friends or allies; the Jarls in the holds change, but is there much difference between Idgrod Ravencrone and Sorli the Builder? You might feel a little guilty when you see the Dunmer forced to live in the slums, but then the haughty High Elf says that she didn’t laze around and instead made a name for herself, or the Dark Elf farmer who complains about his snowflake kinsmen harping on about “injustices”. The Argonians seem decent until you meet the skooma addict/thief, and the Khajiit.. let’s just say that even if we disregard the two Khajiit assassins sent to kill you, there exist a lot of extremely harmful stereotypes that none of your friends dispel. They commit no horrific war crimes in your presence, the worst you hear is a Nord (normally a bandit) yell “Skyrim is for the Nords!”, or the clumsy Welcome to Winterhold script where a Dunmer woman is harassed by two Nords; one’s a veteran, by the way. Got run through the chest by an Imperial craven, or so the story goes.

Your only chance to rattle the Nord-driven story is to go against your gut feeling and side with the Imperials (the plotline is pretty weak, not gonna lie), or complete the optional quest No One Escapes Cindha Mine where you see what a Stormcloak sympathizer does to the Forsworn. Even if you complete that quest, the Forsworn still attack you. “They’re savages,” say the Nords, and the game isn’t too inclined to say otherwise.

When it comes to portraying the Nords in any light that’s not negative, Skyrim doesn’t deliver like it did in other games. You saw what life is like in Morrowind under Tribunal rule; it’s not great. The Houses are almost universally awful and they have slaves. You see the destruction in Cyrodiil and hear the rumors on how much the Empire is flailing with the Oblivion Crisis. Hell, even Arena tells you that life in Tamriel kind of sucks, but it’ll suck a little less when Tharn is dead.

That doesn’t happen in Skyrim. You are encouraged to join the sympathetic Stormcloaks, you find out your destiny as Dragonborn, and you set all these things right. Of course you do. You’re a hero, baby. Others have gone on about how storybook the Dragonborn questline is so I won’t go too much in, but that’s it exactly: Storybook. You’re Neutral Good. You’re going to kill the bad dragon that wants to do its job and eat the world. 

And that refusal to really examine the nuances and horrors of war, to consider what it means to be a hero that is never morally challenged or forced into a Total Perspective Vortex, to never challenge an extremely biased perspective or even explore its “logical” conclusion?

It leads to extremely dangerous ways of thinking if unchecked.

[keepyourpantsongohan]

Ayesha Liveblogs Cardcaptor Sakura S2-S3

“If you had called me, I would have fixed it for you” Get u a man who wants to fix ur bike’s flat tires

“I wonder which teacher will be in charge of us this year” I’m going to hazard a guess that it’s the one that you keep having prophetic dreams about battling in the moonlight

“Ms. Mizuki is kind, is pretty and she makes me all dreamy” lmao @ this criteria for justifying whether ur sensei is up to no good

U know, Sakura melting like 10 feet of snow bc she lost a present from her crush is exactly the type of emotions I expect from these preteens

Syaoran liking Sakura is also very funny because she’s very observant of other people so it’s like [Syaoran blushing and glancing at Sakura] [Sakura glancing back in befuddlement]

“But when you do, it means you’ll see him as well” WILL U STOP THIS OMINOUS MOONSHADOWING 

Does EVERYTHING Mizuki says have to be some kind of prophecy

Syaoran is really just becoming progressively more infatuated and embarrassed with every scene

“You’re always watching over Sakura, aren’t you?” Tomoyo doesn’t need a voice to call people out LOL

You see this is exactly my point what is the reason for having a voice card if you have a song card or vice versa what’s your logic Clow

LMAO I SHOULD’VE KNOWN:

Sakura: Why r u both here

Toya: It’s Take Your Boyfriend to Work Day

“Sakura is cheerful as usual today” “That’s all she has going for her” Very older brother kind of statement

That shot of Syaoran showing his strawberries to Yukito (and Sakura, by extension) cutting to Toya, cutting to Ms. Mizuki.... the interpersonal dynamics at play here

“You know her from before, right?” THAT’S ONE WAY TO PUT IT

**Go to jail Mizuki

“I’ll tell you in a little while” Toya is not prepared to have discussion about his Relationship History at this time

I mean I’m not an expert but isn’t Sakura’s main magical item a key wouldn’t that help with this Lock situation

YFDHSKHFKJSHFK Mizuki could you be more threatening

I assume the wind will cover up the noise of this loud magical chant

“Don’t tell dad I have a fever” 😭😭😭😭😭 Sakura you’re so little someone needs to take care of you

“If I do [stay home], I’ll trouble everyone else” SAKURAAAA 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

“It was about Sakura” TOYA’S BIG BROTHER MODE ACTIVATED

LOL TOYA’S SUSPICIOUS GLANCES ARE EVERYTHING JHDJKHFKJ HE CAN SENSE THE “GHOST” IN KERO

Well if the living plush toy didn’t give it away, the fact that Toya has already met and identified Mirror as a ghost will

Ddfhjkdhfkj Toya didn’t even pause he was just like [Sigh] ‘Guess I’m gonna feed a ghost now’

“I have a vague idea of what she’s up to” OH MY GOD TOYAAAAAA

Awww Meilin holding Sakura up to capture the Clow Card you know what that is? Growth

This kind of domestic shopping nonsense is the shenanigans I NEED

Syaoran is physically winded from running away from his feelings

OMG STOP THESE PRE-TEEN DREAMS ARE SO CORNY AND GREAT LMAO @ SYAORAN FANTASIZING ABOUT HIM AND SAKURA BEING THE LEADS IN A MOVIE TOGETHER WITH HIM GIVING THE CLOW CARDS AS A SUBSTITUTE FOR A WEDDING RING

Gljlgkdjlkgjlkf I still cannot believe they let 11-year-olds roam this freely they don’t need an adult to BOARD A TRAIN??

“They’re foretelling dreams” So if we believe this, here are the future facts:

1. Sakura’s gonna do a fashion show for Tomoyo 

2. Syaoran is going to give Sakura all the Clow Cards and maybe propose 

3. Yukito and Toya will definitely know Kero is a living creature and they’re gonna be chill with it

4. Normal battle prophecy stuff

“Seeing Ms. Mizuki... it makes me all dreamy”

*Sakura really only crushes on people that her older brother had feelings for first this is like when I was into Yugioh and Beyblade bc my brother was into them first 

**Go to jail Mizuki

“I don’t want to be the prince” Will u want to if it’s u and Sakura tho

This was pointed foreshadowing I could not have predicted

[Chanting] ALL DRAG FAIRSTYLES ALWAYS

“I just woke up” u LIAR Toya you wanted to make your baby sister breakfast

SYAORAN WHERE WERE YOU EVEN KEEPING THAT BIG OLE MAGICAL SWORD TASSLE

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS TEAMWORK COMBO ATTACK WE LOVE A PARTNERSHIP OF POWERS

“Isn’t that a guy playing the Queen” are you in any place to make a judgment Toya

“Please, seal us together” Light and Dark confirmed as Lesbian Icons

“The final decision rests with Yue, but please do your best” LMAO IS THE REASON THAT YUKITO IS ALWAYS CHILL HANGING OUT WITH HIS FIFTH GRADE BEST FRIENDS IS THAT HE IS SCOUTING THEM OUT FOR YUKITO’S NEXT DRAG SUPERHERO

U know if I did not have very hazy memories of who Yue is I could be tricked into thinking it was Mizuki lol (but then again TSUKIshiro soooooo maybe it’s obvious always lol)

“That bath sponge” “Kero is at Tomoyo’s house” ‘BATHSPONGE’ MEILIN PLS

AW rescuing lost birds turns out Syaoran has always been a sweetheart

Meilin finally gets to use her martial arts skills and help again!! Good for her

“I’m your fiancee until you find the girl you like the most” Not to put a damper on ur cousin marriage dream (stop) but that ship has sailed twice over Meilin 

“There’s another person” WELL WELL WELL HOW THE TURN TABLES MOON MAN

“Being with you is rather useful when capturing Clow Cards” is Syaoran’s way of saying “<3 <3 <3″

Syaoran is really conflicted bc he likes Yukito and he likes Sakura but when Sakura likes Yukito he wants her to like him instead this is truly a broad range of emotions for Fifth Grade Romance

Ddfjhdskfhk Kero looks so serious scouting out the intentions of the Toya’s Magical Exes Club but his face is like “>:[”

“You’re the one that uses the powers of the moon” What does this MEAN that’s supposed to be Yukito???? I am confused

“There’s no such thing as a coincidence...” “...There’s only inevitability” So now Toya’s joining the prophecy game? This is A Lot

Omg I do love the big lion version of Kero I forgot what he looked like

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH BIIIIIIIIIIIITCCCCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

“Too lenient as always” “And your personality is as bad as always” I don’t think I care for Magical Yukito he’s being a little harsh

“He completely cuts all ties between his disguise and his consciousness, so that the candidate doesn’t sense him until the Last Judgment” so his subconscious just happened to feel like being a 17-year-old boy who wanted to date Sakura’s brother LOL

DON’T BE A BITCH YUE YOU’RE FIGHTING AN ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD WHO PERCEIVES YOU AS SOMEONE SHE CARES ABOUT

Oh my god NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I DON’T WANT ANYONE TO FORGET WHO THEY LOVE

This is so fucked up kjhgkfhdg Sakura’s family forgetting her mother, Sakura and Toya forgetting Yukito, Tomoyo forgetting about caring about Sakura, Syaoran forgetting about caring about Sakura ahhhhhhhhhhh

WELL WELL WELL MS. MIZUKI CAME THRU THANKS WEIRDO

**Still jail tho

OH SHIT NEW MAGICAL STAFF I LOVE THIS AHHHHHHHHH

“I want you to be friends with me, nothing like Masters or stuff like that” SAKURAAAAAA

“You knew that Mr. Tsukishiro wasn’t a human” “Yeah” TOYA WHAT!!!

The fact that Yukito doesn’t know his other half is kind of a bitch has very Yami Bakura energy I can’t believe what I needed in my life was Yugioh but less Heterosexual

iii

“If you leave that early, Yuki won’t be there yet” So... is Toya just chill with the fact his boyfriend is the moon

I don’t want Syaoran to leave!!! He is a sweetheart and I love him

“He seems like a nice boy” is thiiis the rude boy I remember from watching this when I was a kid bc ngl I was confused when Syaoran was nice bc I remember someone being a little shit

“I didn’t mean to surprise you” said Eriol, after popping out suddenly from behind a tree

Syaoran said ‘I will only share Sakura’s affection with one (1) boy and that is Yukito’ 

“I’m not going back. I’ll be here for a while.” I can’t tell if this is a New Magical Person thing or a ‘I love my friends and don’t want them to forget me’ thing

DHJKGHKJHG this random girl just clinging to Toya’s back and eyeing Yukito like “WHATCHA GONNA DO ABOUT IT MISTER”

I guess since Meilin’s gone Nakuru’s going to fulfill the role of Unrequited Crush Gal Who Cannot Read The Emotional Room

Clow Reed really appearing to just throw Sakura’s entire life in disarray

“This is the first chance to film you in a while!” Tomoyo you have filmed Sakura going strawberry-picking and playing whack-a-mole since when do u need an excuse lmao

“I don’t think we made plans like that” again Toya since when do u and Yukito need plans aren’t you together like 22/7

Syaoran refuses to show Sakura that he’s feeling anything beyond blushing and yet he gets mad when other people are more forthright with their emotions and honestly what a teen mood

“I.. you” rude I can’t tell if Nakuru interrupted a love confession or a I Know You’re the Moon confession but either way rude 

“You don’t know? Then I’ll take him” WHAT DO U MEAANNN THAT’S NOT HOW IT WORKS

“Eriol is a kind person” [Thor meme voice] Is he though?

As much as the jury is still out on Yue I really do love these magical girl transformations

These group meet ups have gotten even less subtle you might be able to hide some cosplay and a plush toy but a full grown man and a lion with wings??? Gjkghkjdhgk how did they get to Penguin Park with no one noticing

There is some satisfaction in there finally being an adult (or at least a kind-of-18-year-old) on their team

Oh my god??? OH MY GOD? WHAT A POWER-UP I LOVE IT SAKURA GETTING HER OWN CHANTS AND CARDS GOOD FOR HERRRR

Poor Toya it’s worrisome when ur baby sis is a magical superhero

It’s interesting and hilarious that Yukito’s appetite is proportional to his alter ego’s use of magic

“Because she’s like you” Toya IS trying to tell Yuki that he’s a moon person awwwwwwww

If we’ve learned anything from Tomoyo’s choir recitals it’s just that perhaps singing is more dangerous than any of these kids would prefer it to be

Nakuru aside from the fact I’m pretty sure you’re a new Big Bad leave Toya alone he doesn’t want to be touched and he’s with someone already

I like that no matter how many times Yamazaki lies, Sakura always takes it in good faith

I have given up on this show having anyone have a normal relationship with their teacher (except Wei who has done nothing wrong ever in his life)

“I’m sure that the person you like is happy” shout-out to Tomoyo for being semi-well-adjusted I guess 

“The kid is being controlled by something” GUESS WHO JUST BOUGHT STRINGS FOR PUPPETS IT’S SUSPICIOUS NEW KID 

If I know my shojo manga tropes it seems like this Friend vs. Friend battle is going to lead to a Hug of Passionate Restraint

Psych it was a Hug of We Are Tired From Magical Force

Who are you British Bitch Boy with your Bitch Cat haven’t they been through enough

“I’m surprised you’ve held out this long without a single bite” do NOT eat TOYA

“And I’m not a human in the first place, so gender doesn’t really matter” I am so tired of anime creating non-binary characters only to make them evil and/or inhuman blah

I DON’T CARE FOR ANY OF THIS WE DON’T NEEEED AN EVIL ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD AND AN EVIL KERO AND AN EVIL YUE NOBODY ASKED

“Why did I buy this thing anyway” u know why Syaoran 

LMAO YUKITO DRINKING OUT OF A FULL SIZE MILK CARTON KILLS ME

“The only times I turn red or feel like my heart will explode is when I see him” Incredible it has taken Syaoran like... 18 episodes to realize his feelings for Sakura. Bisexuality be like that sometimes

SCREAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM DID YUE COME OUT JUST TO GIVE SYAORAN BACK HIS TEDDY BEAR

“The reason why you are confused when you see Yukito is because of the magic powers from the Moon that you feel from Yukito” did Yue just say ‘ur not bi ur just confused’ kjhkjdhdgkj Yue confirmed for biphobic

Really how many things does Eriol have to ruin before Sakura realizes he’s evil? The piano.... thread... a teddy bear

OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG SAKURA HAS WINGS IT’S A REAL MAGICAL GIRL TRANSFORMATION AFTER ALL

You know if Elementary School Clow is NOT evil this is a really fucked up way to be teaching a lesson

Toya come help ur boy Yukito is exhausted and he doesn’t know why :(

Ahhhhhhhh this tree leaning scene is the exact and only thing I remembered about the interactions between these two before watching this now

“I don’t want you to disappear” THE ROMANCE RETURNS

“Are you doing this on purpose” Toya has had it up to here with his confessions being interrupted

BOOO Toya was right I don’t want Yue-kito to disappear either

“There is someone suited to this, but Yukito...” KJHGKJDHGJHDKJ IS TOYA GONNA BECOME THE SOURCE OF YUE’S MAGICAL POWER I’D DIE

“You knew this would happen if you called Tomoyo” I mean... Kero’s right

I don’t know that Erase in particular was necessary for the sheep but it does make me giggle to see Sakura lift playground structures

I was gonna say I’d wager ten dollars something happens to that bike after Eriol touches it but then I remembered this episode is called “Sakura and the Panicky Bike” so it’s not really even worth betting

Of course your family members are going to worry if you suddenly develop magical narcolepsy Sakura 

I LOVE that Toya’s magical powers seem to be developing more as well

I feel like not enough people are giving Sakura credit for the fact she is like 11? She hasn’t had a lot of time to work on this stuff

“I can’t let [the cards becoming ordinary] happen! I finally got to be friends with all of them” 😭😭😭😭😭 Sakura’s good heart always gets me

“What are you going to do?” SHE’S GONNA PUT HERSELF IN A MAGICAL COMA 

Cell phones are a hilarious addition to the plot and I love that they are like top of the line bc it’s the 90s lmao and that Li is include in the phone tree 

“If you collapse, I’ll catch you” KERO NO. 1 SAKURA STAN (tied with Tomoyo and Syaoran)

Lmao these siblings would be born on a Leap Day and April Fool’s respectively

SCREAM at least it’s on brand for Eriol to be a pathological liar (also RIP Sakura and Syaoran for their gullibility still)

TOYA PLAYING HIS MOTHER’S SONG REST IN PIECES MY HEART

Sdkhkhkjdhkd Toya failed confession count: 4 this time feat emotional piano ballad

Also also I will say it’s not like Yuki doesn’t come to your house VERY frequently Toya couldn’t you just tell him what you need to say the numerous times he is visiting or going with you to school

Oh hey! I share a birthday with Sakura’s great-grandfather that’s funny

“Nadeshiko was only 16 years old” YEAH SO WHY ARE YOU APOLOGIZING GRANDPA UR NOT THE ONE TRYING TO DATE TEENS U R TEACHING

I know Kero being seen on the TV is for giggles but the implication that magic makes you playable on VCR... incredible

I want to know what Toya’s gift was!!! 

Hahaha I guess that the Alice and Wonderland size-shifting would have more of an impact on Sakura’s empathy than most people 

“Two-thirds of all cats on earth right now are aliens” I mean... if we go by the cats we have met in this show.... Yamazaki’s right

“Actually, I have a rather mischievous personality” NO KIDDING ERIOL

“Where are you going” “To where the queen is” I will DIE if the Queen is Toya but I assume the Queen of Hearts will be Sakura’s mother actually since that’s the kind of anime trope that u should expect

Yue dropping Sakura like a hot potato is a little funny he can stay 

What is more ridiculous Syaoran hiding the sword behind his back or the fact it worked

“Then... it’s not Yukito?” that was one whole crush ago keep up Sakura

“I am the Queen” WELL THAT’S NOT WHAT I WAS EXPECTING AT ALL KJFHGKJHGJHGJKFHG

Current list of things that Eriol has ruined: Pianos, threads, teddy bears, sheep plushies, bikes, leaves, 

The transition to Eriol’s deep adult voice always trips me up

“Don’t hug me” “I’m going to hug you” Respect! Toya’s! Boundaries! Nakuru!!!!!!!!!!!

LOL @ Spinel’s drunken tirades I won’t lie I love this erratic behaviour

Guess Syaoran is over his Yukito crush for real but boy cannot stop running away from his feelings for Sakura poor guy

AWWWW THIS TEDDY BEAR MONTAGE OF SYAORAN BEING AT PEACE WITH HOW HE FEELS NOW

LMAO DID ERIOL JUST TRAP THESE TWO IN AN ELEVATOR TO WORK OUT THEIR INTERPERSONAL PROBLEMS THIS SHOW IS IN SUCH A WEIRD EMOTIONAL PLACE

“I’m glad for you,” said Eriol/Clow, who has repeatedly mildly traumatized these kids but seems to be like ‘it all evens out if I do some preteen matchmaking’

“Hey, can I call you Syaoran too?” Awwwwwwwwwwww that’s cute also it’s wild that in the pacing of this show despite like probably at least thirty episodes of them being friends THIS is the first ep (Ep 57!!!) that they address each other by first name

HJGJHGDHGFHJG AMAZING HOW IS SAKURA GOING TO HIDE A FULL GROWN MAN (WHO SHARES A BODY WITH THE PERSONALITY HER BROTHER LIKES!) AND A WINGED LION IN HER BEDROOM

OHJFKJSDHFKJSHDKJFHKJHFKJHKJHDKJHF I CANNOT CONVEY THE COMEDY OF THIS MOMENT IN WORDS SO:

“So that even if [my dad] was reincarnated, he would still fall in love with [my mom]” Interesting reveal that Yue was actually in love with Clow (makes sense; he’s the ‘I’m gay I’m homophobic we exist’ meme) but the only romance I will accept for Yue is if he ends up in a Greedlingfan-esque triad with Yukito and Toya and that’s that on that

Poor Yukito he must think he’s going nuts he just appears places with no memories 

Well this is hardly a fair match up Syaoran can’t be expected compete with a reincarnated ancient wizard

GOOOOOD WHY DOES ERIOL DELIVER HIS CRYPTIC MESSAGES OF ADVICE THROUGH SPORTS GAMES

“It feels more like [Eriol] is watching over someone very dear to him” Tomoyo correctly discerns that Eriol is the bearer of fucked up magic lessons

Wow Tomoyo is really here to talk Syaoran through a whole journey of emotions 

“I.. you...” OH MY GOD SYAORAN AND TOYA START THEIR CONFESSIONS IN THE SAME WAY JHHJSGFDSGJH WOW 

It’s okay Syaoran you did your best no one in your immediate social group can finish a confession it seems

“You were trying so hard so hard to confess your love for Sakura last night” Tomoyo really doesn’t pull any punches when it comes to her romantic pep talks huh

Awww Syaoran wants to tell Meilin how he feels about Sakura first 

Uh oh post-battle Meilin has taken note of Syaoran and Sakura’s use of each other’s first names

“If something happens, please think of me” AWWW Tomoyo looking out for Meilin’s feelings that’s my girl

“What makes me even madder is that I still can’t grow to hate Ms. Kinomoto” awww Meilin  

“You’re a tardy little monster” suspicious Toya is one of the best parts of this show   

The fact that Sakura doesn’t think Toya knows because he’s not making fun of her... tru sibling energy

Failed confession count: 

Toya: 5...6

Syaoran: 2

TOYA IS SUCH A SWEETHEART BUYING PRESENTS FOR THE CARD THAT PROTECTS SAKURA AHHHHHHHHH AND OMG HOW DOES HE KNOW WHAT MIRROR LOOKS LIKE

Sakura loves the cards and the cards love her I love one (1) Cardcaptor

“But now, he helps me out a lot” “That’s why I don’t like him” AWWW TOYA 

“I will see you again in your dreams tonight” could you be a bit less creepy Eriol

OH NO CURSE OF THE DISAPPEARING BOYFRIEND TOYA YOU GOTTA HUG THE MAGIC BACK INTO YUKI

Tomoyo is an impeccable wingman for Syaoran she has had his back at every step

WE LOVE A POOL PARTY EP YEEHAW 

"I don’t ever want you to disappear” Toya’s declarations are getting more passionate with each failed confession (also I see that when he grabs Yuki’s wrist he stops fading)

“If you use magic in here, you don’t know who might see you” so they’ll notice her hiding behind a half rock wall but somehow a glowing waterslide will escape their notice???

“If Sakura had used her card any later than when she did, you were going to stop your magic” I feel like that is the LEAST Eriol could do

“Do you dislike swimming now” OH HOW NICE TO CHECK IN WITH RIKA AFTER YOU ALMOST DROWN HER

“You’re just lacking experience now. I’m sure that you will be able to do it. Skiing... and other things.” “You said that before! What does that MEAN” Syaoran is tired of Eriol’s Cryptic Sports Advice too

Dghgfjdgfjhg Sakura crossing herself in preparation for hearing a scary story lmao

Current failed confession counts:

Toya: 7

Syaoran: 3

Eriol confirms he will not kill preteens in an avalanche just to teach them magic I guess they had to draw the line somewhere

“I know the truth... that in reality you are...” Does it count as a failed confession if it’s for a scene?? Also are they the leads of this student film bc if so wow

“I know what’s really going on. That you are...” Well we’re definitely up to 8 now

:(((((((((((( It really hurts Toya to see Yukito like this SAVE HIIIIIIIIM

“At this rate, Toya’s important thing will be taken away” like what his love virginity LMAO

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH IT’S HAPPENING THE FACE TOUCHING THE REVEAL HFDUHFKJHFJDHFKJHDJGHJKHGJHG

“If I don’t see you, I can’t give you what I want to give you” a kiss?? LOL

“I want you to protect Sakura, and also protect yourself” OH OH OH 

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH TOYA YOU’RE SO SELF-SACRIFICING THIS IS SO SWEET U WANT TO PROTECT UR SISTER AND THE LOVE OF UR LIFE SO UR GIVING UP SOMETHING THAT’S A PART OF YOU THE MELANCHOLY THE INTIMACY I’M WEEPING

“It’s obvious that you, a child, can’t support all of it” Ahhhhhhhhhh so many reveals at once poor Sakura, Toya was only helping

In truth I did not think the power exchange would happen all at once I thought it would be like recurring boyfriend whack-a-mole:

Yukito, sleepy: I’m off to battle

Toya: K bye Yuki [intimate embrace]

Yue: [Catches sleepy Toya]

“I want Yukito to know my true feelings” I mean I’m gonna tell you right now Sakura I think he’s in love with your brother and also you’re like 11 but u do u I guess

“It doesn’t matter what you are. As long as you don’t disappear and are at my side, I don’t care about anything else” Toya ur so romantic

“I’m all right. Just a little sleepy.” Oh how the narcolepsy turntables.....

I know all I want to talk about is Toya right now but he is so PATIENT and GENTLE with his sister’s feelings god

“But the person that you like the most isn’t me, Sakura” why do both halves of Yukito feel the need to moonsplain people’s feelings to them jkhfgkjjhfjhfjkh

HAHAHAH I was wondering how Yuki was going to handle this preteen love confession and he just went ‘No. Family-zoned.’

“You realized this because you have someone you like the most as well, Yukito?” 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

“Is it my big brother?” “Yeah, it is” AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

“Though I think that Toya is my number one, I’m not sure of his feelings” HE GAVE UP HIS MAGICAL POWERS FOR YOU TO BE AROUND HIM FOREVER YUKITO HOW MUCH MORE REASSURANCE DO YOU NEED

Omg the vowing to yell at each other’s future boyfriends khkdhfkdhfs I love this friendship good for them 

Eriol really DOES trap people in enclosed spaces to work out their interpersonal problems this reincarnated 11-year-old relationship therapist my god

“But if I cry or make a sad face, I’m sure Yukito would be troubled” poor sad Sakura but also I’m kind of glad she didn’t abide by Yukito like... telling her how she felt? It would’ve felt a little insincere to walk ALL of it back but I think she was mostly doing it so Yukito and Toya could be together in peace

“It’s all right. I’m sure you will find him” SYAORAAAAAAAAAAANNN

Awww Syaoran is so happy about this Grand Gesture scarf <33333333

“I knew that Sakura’s feelings for me weren’t completely the same as her feelings for her father... But I can’t delay her finding her true number one because of her feelings towards me” no shit Yuki but also maybe it was an okay call it gave Sakura a simple out

Toya’s gentle head touch as he gives Yukito reassurance aaaaaah

“He’s going to steal away something that I’ve been cherishing all this time” this is Toya’s weird way of saying he gives Syaoran and Sakura his blessing lol (lot of these blessing going around lately)

Toya’s love language is touching Yuki somewhere from the shoulders up

“I feel like he’s still alive and he’ll come to make fun of us at any moment” ur not wrong Kero

“But I’m still not you, Mr. Clow” U JUST BE URSELF SAKURA!!

What we have learned from this trip to the past so far is that Mr. Clow has always loved to give people cryptic messages and then disappear

I DID NOT EXPECT A MONTAGE OF BLOOMING FLOWERS TO BE WHAT MADE ME SHED A TEAR IN THIS ANIME BUT THE SYMBOLISM - CLOW’S WORDS - SAKURA UR SO GOOD THIS IS A NICE SHOW

“It’s Clow Reed’s fault,” said Clow Reed, eleven years old, about himself

“Why did he have to trouble Sakura so much?!” Kero said FRIENDSHIP ENDED WITH CLOW REED SAKURA IS MY NEW BEST FRIEND

I appreciate that Yue was like, ‘Gotta bring Toya with me to the battle I can’t just leave him in the street’ 

Sidenote: What made them start running in the first place was it the loss of light or was it just Yukito/Yue going ‘MY SAKURA SENSES ARE TINGLING’

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FINAL BATTLE KERO VS. SPINNEL, YUE VS. RUBY MOON, SAKURA VS. CLOW???

OH SHIT TRANSFORMING EIGHT CARDS AT ONCE WHAT A POWER UP 

Make that six cards but STILL

“Light and Dark are the first cards under our jurisdiction” I AM RIVETED 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

SCREAM THE TEAM SUN MOON STARS GROUP HUG MY CHEST WILL BURST

OH FINAL WAND!!!!!!!!! MAGICAL FRIENDS EDITION

SYAORAN HELPING HER TRANSFORM THE CARDS TEAMWORK MAKES THE DREAMWORK

“We are friends with you, right Sakura?” KEROOOOOOOO YUEEEEEEEEE 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

“I like you” [Cut to classroom] Oh awkward seems like Sakura kind of verbally left Syaoran on read for that one

“Wouldn’t conversation be more pleasant when there are tasty sweets around” Sdfhkjshfkjshfkj unbelievable Eriol-Clow wants to have his final words of wisdom delivered via tea party

“There were a couple of things that happened that weren’t expected by myself or Clow Reed” LOL he means Syaoran and Sakura and also probably Yukito and Toya jhjhdfjkh fair it’s just the never-ending charisma of these siblings 

Oh hey Ms. Mizuki what are you doing at this weird tea party (go to jail)

If Mizuki was in college when she met him he was what???? A baby??? How old ARE you Eriol

“You’re not going inside, Yue?” I was WONDERING why Yue wasn’t part of this ridiculous gathering lmao

“But I can talk of old memories... If it suits your fancy, I will talk whenever you want me to” Ahh Eriol trying to provide Yue some closure 😬

WOW ERIOL EXPLICITLY EXPLAINING THAT HE DID NOT EXPECT THE ROMANTIC DYNAMICS AT PLAY JDHJHFDGHKDHGKHDKFJ 

Omggg Sakura created a new card for Syaoran ahhhh they’re really very cute

“That bear... Can I have it?” The way these confessions were written is really VERY GOOD

What a WEIRD SHOW but u know it did something to my heart 

[fandom-of-the-day]

it was real and it was beautiful

Chapter 4 is up! Read on AO3

“Well shit.” Margo breathed out as they tried to pry open her birthright box. She didn’t know what the fuck a birthright box was, but there was a lot of shit going on in Fillory at the moment and maybe it would help. Not that Margo trusted some magical box to solve all of her problems. She’d seen those Disney movies, she knew how trusting in inanimate objects worked.

“High King Margo!” Tick approached her wearily. There were few faces that made Margo want to punch them, but Tick happened to have one of them. Him and fucking Todd. Tick had been nervous around Margo since the election and her time away from Fillory hadn’t changed that. He had good reason to be nervous. She had wanted to publicly execute him for his betrayal but El...but she had been persuaded otherwise. She was regretting that decision.

“What?” Margo turned from where the palace guards were trying to open the box. “Can’t you see I’m kinda busy here.” She gestured to the work being done, no progress being made.

When she looked at Tick’s face, she saw a flash of annoyance before he schooled it into that smarmy smile. God she hated that face too. Why had she let this man live? “Yes, well, an urgent matter had come to my attention.” The plastic smile remained on his face as she glared.

“Well? Don’t hesitate now.” She had to get the box open, figure out the magic problem that had been going around, council talking animals who now decided they had something to say...she really did not have time for more of Tick’s self-importance.

“Well, as you know, we just got the talking animals, well, talking again.” That smile didn’t move. A twitch ran through her, an urge to find a way to swipe it off. “We got a talking rabbit--.”

“Margo!” Fen interrupted, running into the room. Her hair was a mess, like the wind had caught it while she was sprinting through the castle. Really, what now? Like Margo didn’t have enough to deal with, now she’d have to deal with E- with more mourning. She had shit to do, why wouldn’t everyone leave her the fuck alone?

“High King Mago,” Fen said, regaining her breath and formality. “A message from West Loria arrived. They said that with the lack of stability in Fillory and the absence of a marriage, they are sending a delegate to discuss the terms of an alliance and see if one is still acceptable to their people.”

She should care about that, right? Yes, she should definitely care about West Loria. God, they’d been nothing but trouble since they got here.

Margo sighed before looking back at her birthright box. The guards could continue working on it, it appeared she now had to figure out an alliance with a country that should be begging them for help. Honestly, she leaves for one year and everything goes to shit. She couldn’t trust anyone to rule her kingdom. “Fine, we’ll meet with their delegates. And let them know who’s holding the power in the godforsaken land.”

Fen hesitated, as if she was going to say more. “What?” Margo asked.

Fen shook her head, glancing at Tick and the guards quickly. Fucking shit, there was more? Ugh. “Tweedle Dee, Tweedle Dum, scram.” The guards looks at one another, uncertain of the words. One glance at Margo and the meaning was clear. They picked up the birthright box and moved quietly out the door. Tick still stood nearby, watching. “You too short stuff.”

Tick looked affronted by the nickname. “But Your Majesty-.”

“Now.”

He looked put out, but Tick slowly bowed and walked back out, leaving Margo and Fen alone.

“What couldn’t you say in front of those bimbos?” Margo eyed Fen, who was wringing her hands through her dress.

“It’s not about the message...I mean, that was important...but there was another thing that happened. Well, kinda happened? I don’t know, it happened, but I don’t know if it’s real. And if it’s not real, did it really happen?” Fen was rambling. Margo really wanted to have patience, but today was not the day.

“Spit it out, Fen.” Margo demanded, a touch of irritation in her voice.

“I’ve been having these dreams lately.” Fen said quickly.

“Dream? Like I Dreamed a Dream or Sweet Dreams?”

“Huh?

“What kind of dreams?!” Why was it so hard to get to the point?

“Oh well, like, prophetic dreams?” Fen spoke as if asking a question.

“Prophetic. Like seeing the future, warming about plagues type prophetic?” Margo wanted to say fuck this and go to sleep. She needed a good Xanax right about now. Prophetic dreams. What kind of acid trip was Fillory on now?

“The last few nights I’ve been having these dreams and each time they come true. The first was about Josh cooking empanadas and then he did! No one asked him to do that! Then I had a dream that you were going to try and open your birthright box only to fail.” Fen didn’t need to remind her that failed. “And today, I woke up to a dream about West Loria declaring war and now we’ve gotten word that they are questioning our alliance! This has to mean something.”

“Yeah, it means Fillory’s fucking shit.” Margo sighed. “So what Fen, you’re having these dreams, what does it matter? West Loria wants to start a war? Let them. They’ll never know what hit them.”

“Margo, there’s more…” Fen was not someone easily irritated, but she seems frustrated that Margo was not joining in her concern. “We have to figure out what these dreams are and why they’re happening.”

“No, you need to figure that out. I need to run a fucking kingdom. A kingdom that’s determined to see itself die.”

Margo watched as Fen drew her lips into a tight line. Great, now she’d offended probably the nicest person in Fillory. Who next? The fucking sloth? “Look Fen, if you need to go off on a little adventure to figure this out, by all means, go have your Hobbit adventure. But I’ve got to figure out a lot of shit here.”

Fen shook her head slowly. She looked like she was about to say something, then bit her lip. Margo turned to leave, but apparently Fen found her voice.

“Have you cried yet?”

Margo stopped in her tracks, blood running cold. She turned slowly, shoving her anger down as deep as she could. “What did you just say?”

“Have you cried yet? For Eliot.” Hearing that name was like a stab to the heart. Eliot. Eliot. Her Eliot. Had she cried for him? Had she let herself be torn to pieces for him? “Margo, you’ve been yelling at everyone and being demanding. More than usual. You need to grieve for Eliot.”

How dare she. How dare this woman who’d only known Eliot a couple years tell Margo how to mourn. Did she know that every breath was pain? That the only way to even exist was to not think about it. To not think about him at all. Thinking about Eliot led to missing him and she couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t do that. Because then it would be real.

“Have I cried for Eliot? Have I mourned him?” Margo took a step towards Fen, holding her head high, refusing to let the emotions out. “I can’t cry for him. Because I can’t cry out all the sadness. Ever. Because if I start, I’ll never stop. Do you understand?”

She had to hold it together. She couldn’t do it now. Not when there were things to do and an ever growing list of problems to solve. She watched as Fen took in her words. And then a look too close to pity formed in her eyes and Margo had enough. She turned away, her chest tight. If she thought about him for another second she was sure it would burst. And then what good would she be to anybody? She needed to not think about him. She needed to focus on Fillory. The dam on her heart had started to crack and she did what she did best. She pushed her feelings away and put on her mask.

**

Quentin had expected to hear back from Margo quickly, but perhaps more was happening in Fillory than he’d assumed. Time worked differently there, so who knew how long it would be before they heard from her. While Julia helped him search through books for an answer, there was no one who would put more effort into saving Eliot than Margo. She would tear apart hell itself to save him if she had to.

More than he’d wanted to admit, Q knew he needed her. And not just for the help with books. Julia was helping but she didn’t care. Not the same way. Julia was helping because Q wanted to save Eliot, not because she felt the same drive. She had been more than willing to let Eliot die for the greater good just a few days ago and Quentin hadn’t managed to forget.

How long have you?

How long has he what? Been willing to do anything to save his friends? Surely Julia knew he always would have done that.

What Eliot means to you. I get it.

But she didn’t. No one did. And maybe part of that was he didn’t know himself. Eliot. Eliot. Eliot. He repeated the name in his head, each time remembering the ghost of his smile. One side always ticked up first before Eliot was fully smiling, his eyes brightening in mirth. He’d smirk sometimes, mischievousness in his eyes and on his lips. Lips that spoke comforting words and had once offered comforting warmth. Q shut his eyes as the memory of that mouth came unbidden.

No. He couldn’t think about that. No distractions were worth delaying rescuing Eliot.

He was reading from a Latin tome, asking Julia for translation help when Penny appeared in the living room. Someone suddenly appearing in front of him had stopped being shocking two years ago, especially when it was Penny.

Quentin wasn’t so self-absorbed in his Save Eliot quest that he didn’t notice the way Julia looked up when Penny arrived, nor the way they shared a glance before anyone spoke.

“Um, yes?” Q asked, ready to move on and get this distraction out of the way.

“Where have you been?” Julia asked before Penny had a chance to speak.

Penny sat down across from them. “I was in timeline-23. What’s going on here?”

While Q continued reading, Julia filled Penny in on the last few days. She avoided mentioning their last conversation, for which Quentin was thankful. Penny told them about his time in timeline-23, which seemed to have been just as eventful, though minus a childlike monster on the loose. Sadly, nothing from either of their adventures pointed them any closer to an answer.

Before this quest, Q had never put much stock in reading. He loved Fillory and Further and he knew those stories front to back. But old library books weren’t his strong suit when it came to studying. This wasn’t Fillory they were trying to fix, this was Eliot. And nothing confused him more than Eliot Waugh. They just needed a lead. Something that came before the monster killed Eliot.

Would it be so bad to help the Monster get his body back? They could reconstruct his body and then he would leave Eliot. Killing the Monster after he was out of Eliot had to be easier than getting him out of Eliot’s body now. But the Monster had started doing threatening things to Eliot’s body. What if he gave into the drugs and overdosed? Or he was careless in his immortality and let Eliot’s body be destroyed in another way?

He wished there was a way to get back in contact. A way to communicate with Eliot that they could come up with a plan together. Eliot was good at plans. He was smart.

But in order to do that they’d have to get into the Monsters head and - HOLY SHIT.

“Penny!” Quentin jumped up from the couch. Penny and Julia looked up at him, startled. Neither of them knew what to make of his outburst. “Penny, you can get into people’s minds. You’ve done it to me enough times. Can you help us communicate with the real Eliot?”

Penny continued to look at him like he was crazy. “I don’t know how powerful your Penny was, man. But we’re talking about a god-like monster here. I can’t handle that kind of projecting.”

“But what if he let you?” A plan was beginning to formulate.

Penny stared, incredulous. “You really think the Monster is gonna let me into his mind by choice?”

“He would if he thought it would help.” Julia sat upright. She started digging through the books on the table before finding the one she was looking for. “We’ve been going over ways to get the Monster out of Eliot and figure out who he really is, but we’ve forgotten the Monster also wants this information. He wants to find his body. So we can use that to convince him to share his mind.”

“Can you access memories?” Quentin asked Penny.

Penny hesitated for a moment. “If the minds guard is down, I can pretty much navigate anything.” He stood up, pacing. “But that doesn’t change how strong his mind might be. Even if he willingly lets me in, he’s still a stronger entity and I don’t know what would happen.”

“We’ve got to save Eliot!” Q yelled. Why wasn’t Penny getting how important this was?

Julia put her hand on his arm. “Q.” She spoke softly. “We can’t just risk everyone’s lives for Eliot. You can’t force Penny to do something that could harm him.”

Quentin wanted to argue. He wanted to shout that any cost was worth it if he could see Eliot himself again. If he could see him standing before him smiling his normal, cocky smile. But she was right. He could no more force Penny to risk his life than he could ask Julia to. It wasn’t fair, no matter how much his heart longed for a solution.

Q looked at Penny, who appeared to be in deep thought. He slowly lowered himself down, ready for the disappointment of this small glimmer of hope being snuffed out. What a stupid idea. Getting inside the mind of the Monster? He really was desperate.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

Q and Julia both looked over at Penny, startled.

“I’ll do it.” He repeated.

**

Margo made her way through the gathering, holding her head high. She was doing a good job acting as a diplomat. Already she had spoken with the representatives from West Loria and they had seemed impressed with how she handled the most recent crises in Fillory. It seemed the problem with talking animals was widespread and most attributed it to bad allergies, a side effect of the strange trees growing to the east. No matter the cause, the animals were recovering now and it seemed those dynamics had settled back to normal. Or as normal as Fillory could be.

Margo was wandering to find another wine glass when Josh approached her. She stiffened, afraid that he’d again try to talk about feelings. He’d already tried that once right after they’d slept together. She wasn’t here to do feelings. Feelings so far had only brought her pain.

“What do you want.” She asked, a hint of irritation in her voice.

Josh looked around the room before leaning closer. “Have you spoken with Tick?” Josh was eyeing her curiously.

Tick? What in gods name did Tick have to do with anything. “No. What’s that imp up to?”

“You really haven’t spoken to him? It’s been two days since he’s known apparently. He only told me because he said you’ve been avoiding him. Not that I’ve had any better luck.” Josh mumbled to himself.

Was he seriously going on about this now? She was trying to keep an alliance and prevent a war, though she was sure she could win any battle they had. But Fen was right, she’d been a bit hostile lately and should probably tone that back. Maybe. But that didn’t mean she had to interact with everyone who bothered her. Hence the ignoring Josh and Tick. Her days were just better that way.

“Margo.” Josh tried again for her attention.

“What!” She exclaimed. Why could no one just say what they needed to say?

Josh leaned in closer still. “The talking bunnies came with a message from Quentin.” The got her attention. She hadn’t heard from any of the others since she’d been sent back here. What was happening back on Earth?

“What did he have to say?” She was eyeing the room again, but Josh finally had her attention. As much as she was busy fixing Fillory, she felt a longing for the friends that she’d found. She hadn’t realized until that moment how lonely ruling was. Before she’d had him by her side. But now she was truly alone.

“Eliot is alive.”

Cold washed over Margo. Eliot is alive. She misheard those words. She had missed something in what Josh was saying. He meant something else. He had to. She stared, hoping to get some kind of glimpse of what prank this was. What trick was being pulled here. But as she looked over his expression, all she saw was honesty.

Eliot is alive.

The words reverberated through her skull, each echo getting louder until it’s all she could here.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

The word turned into a drumbeat against her heart. Each beat brought the words to life and a quiet sob ripped from her chest.

It felt like her heart was breaking and being put back together again.

Eliot was alive.

[champofpallet]

“Extremely detailed character sheet ”

Character Chart Character’s full name: Red Fire Satoshi Reason or meaning of name: When he was born, his father gave him the name Red to symbolize fire, hoping to have a child that has a heart and soul of a warm fire. His last name is Satoshi referencing his creator Satoshi Itari Character’s nickname: Reddo, kid, twerp, champ, shorty. and plenty others Reason for nickname: In Japanese his name is not spelled 赤 or pronounced Aka (or the color red), but spelled and pronounced レッド (Reddo). As for the other nicknames, he is a child in some verses, and sometimes Team Rocket would call him a twerp. Birth date: August 8 (for Manga Red) and Febuary 27 (for game Red)

Physical appearance Age: 11 (Kanto), 13 (Johto), 15 (Unova and probably in Masters), 20+ (Alola) How old does he/she appear: He looks younger than he was as a child since he was short amongst his peers, but he grew up to be taller than all of his childhood friends.  Weight: 78lbs (Kanto), 75lbs (Johto), 127lbs (Unova/Masters), 155.5lbs (Alola) Height: 4′5 (Kanto), 5′3 (Johto), 5′6 (Unova/Masters), 5′8 (Alola) Body build: As a child he was a bit chubby with baby fat, but was overall a healthy kid with a normal build. As he grew older and taller, his body became more slender and fit. He doesn’t have the body of a body builder, but his body is well toned and in shape. Shape of face: Heart Eye color: Brown Glasses or contacts: none Skin tone: pale peach Distinguishing marks: small freckles on his nose that you can’t see unless you’re really close. Predominant features: His unruly and spiky hair that sticks out from the sides of his hat. Hair color: It is naturally brown, but in some light it can look black. Type of hair: spiky but soft Hairstyle: spiked Voice: As a child his voice was high pitched and squeaky at times due to his age, as he matures it gets deeper, but not too deep. He can also sing like an angel, even if he’s embarrassed by this fact. Overall attractiveness: As an adult, lots of women as well as men like him so he’s pretty attractive. Physical disabilities: none Usual fashion of dress: his hat, blue jeans, a red jacket or vest (except in Alola), and a tee shirt Favorite outfit: Pretty much what he wears every day. He feels comfortable in those clothes. Jewelry or accessories: arm band, a mega/z ring on his left wrist.

Personality Good personality traits: Loyal, Caring, Protective, Heroic, Brave, Determined, Hard-Working, Friendly Bad personality traits: Sore Loser, Competitive, Paranoid, Impulsive, Impatient, quick to yell Mood character is most often in: He is usually in a good mood but sometimes it can change just like that. Sense of humor: Red has a great sense of humor, even though he wouldn’t want to admit it. He thinks toilet humor is hillarious and puns are the funniest things in the world. His favorite puns are Pokepuns Character’s greatest joy in life: being with his friends and family, being with his Pokemon, caring for his Pokemon, ect. Character’s greatest fear: Losing his loved ones Why? He felt like he was going to lose everyone he loved after Team Rocket (or who remained after the break-up) had told him he better watch out and who’s he with because they were coming to get revenge for sending away their leader. Being eleven years old and not used to dealing with this sort of threat, he ran away to the mountains doing his best to not talk to anyone in order to trick Team Rocket into thinking he cares for no one. What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? The day he got the letter from Team Rocket. Character is most at ease when:  He’s with people he knew for a long time. He’s more comfortable around boys then girls because he worries he has no idea how to talk to the opposite gender.  Most ill at ease when: Being around someone he likes (romantically), when there is danger, being around Team Rocket Enraged when: seeing people hurt their friends/Pokemon, being made fun of Depressed or sad when: he loses, when he makes someone mad, when he makes someone disappointed Priorities: his friends (including his Pokemon since he thinks of them as friends) and family Life philosophy: Keep getting stronger in order to protect the ones you love. If granted one wish, it would be: To have his dad back home with his mom. Why? He misses his dad, and he knows his mother does too. Having him back home would make his mother smile. Character’s soft spot: cute things Is this soft spot obvious to others? try it, show him a picture of a Pichu and see if he doesn’t start baby talking and holding back tears because it’s so cute Greatest strength: His Pokemon and his unchanging will Greatest vulnerability or weakness: he’s impulsive and does things without thinking. He thinks more with his heart than his brain Biggest regret: Not saving the Cubone’s Mother and being too afraid to do so, not letting Blue stay champion, making everyone worry. Minor regret: Sleeping outside, not cleaning up after himself Biggest accomplishment: Saving Kanto and becoming Champion Minor accomplishment: Finding the Safari guy’s teeth, catching almost all Pokemon Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: plenty Why? Because he worries people will think of him as weak. Character’s darkest secret: He really is a giant nerd Does anyone else know? Probably Blue, but not many others.

Goals Drives and motivations: everyone believing in him, friends and family Immediate goals: to win tournaments, capture Mew Long term goals: to keep being the strongest, to protect everyone and be a role model and a hero How the character plans to accomplish these goals: Keep training with his Pokemon, training himself, keeping an eye out for trouble How other characters will be affected: either they find Red really inspiring or they worry for him with how much weight he placed on his own shoulders.

Past Hometown: Pallet Town, Kanto Region Type of childhood: Single parent (his mother) watching over only child (one verse has him having a brother that was adopted though) Pets: His Pokemon First memory: Seeing a Pokemon for the first time, then getting shocked because he pulled it’s tail Most important childhood memory: Getting his first Pokemon (in the brother verse, meeting his brother was about the same level of importance since he always wanted a sibling). Why: He was always curious about Pokemon ever since Blue stopped hanging out with him. Also this was the start of his whole life Childhood hero: Blue but he won’t admit that Dream job: Pokemon Champion and hero Education: Pokemon School education Religion: Arciest, another au verse has him as the prophet of the Helix Fossil Finances: lower middle class

Present Current location: As an adult, Hano Hotel, Alaka Island, Alola Currently living with: Blue Oak (as roomates) Pets: his Pokemon Religion: Arceist Occupation: Battle Legend ot the Poni Island Battle Tree Finances: Higher Middle Class

Family Mother: Merigold Ketchum Satoshi  Relationship with her: Loves her very much, felt horrible about not calling her for years during his time on Mt. Silver. He is very protective of her and her feelings. Even though she  embarrasses him...a lot.... Father: Crimson Satoshi Relationship with him: He can’t remember a lot about his father since he left him and his mother to find a Pokemon to finish the Pokedex when he was only three years old. He was inspired by his father by the stories his mother told him, he even gave him his name. However, he holds a lot of ill feelings towards him for leaving for so long. Siblings: An adopted Robot brother named Quote (one verse) Relationship with them: Very close to him, taught him everything he knows about being a human to help him fit into the world. Just like he is with every member of his family, he’s extremely protective of him and would do anything to keep him safe. Spouse: he’s multiship Relationship with him/her: He would love his spouse and try to spoil them, always buying them things or helping them in any way Children: multiship  Relationship with them: when he does become a father, he will be a very loving father and be protective of them Other important family members: his little cousin Ash is very close to him, he sees him as a little brother and they both talk about Pokemon and battle a lot.

Favorites Color: Red Least favorite color: he likes all color Music: Rock Food: Burgers (he loves cheeseburgers but he can’t eat them due to lactose intolerance) Literature: Action adventure Form of entertainment: Movies and television Expressions: Don’t judge a book by it’s cover Mode of transportation: By Charizard (his own Charizard anyway) Most prized possession: His childhood Pikachu doll he named Pika 

Habits Hobbies: Pokemon Training, walking, playing video games Plays a musical instrument? if the Pokeflute counts Plays a sport? no, unless Pokemon Training counts How he/she would spend a rainy day: finding special Pokemon outside Spending habits: he spends sometimes, but also saves up Smokes: no Drinks: sometimes when he’s older Other drugs: no What does he/she do too much of? Training What does he/she do too little of? Spending time for himself Extremely skilled at: Pokemon battling Extremely unskilled at: cooking Nervous tics: rubs the back of his neck or plays with the bill of his cap Usual body posture: Standing up straight with his hands in his pockets Mannerisms: has a way of shortening words sometimes when he talks Peculiarities: he goes quiet sometimes when meeting new people. It’s mostly because he’s embarrassed by his accent.

Traits Optimist or pessimist? In the middle Introvert or extrovert? In the middle Daredevil or cautious? daredevil Logical or emotional? in the middle Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? in the middle Prefers working or relaxing? working Confident or unsure of himself/herself? acts confident but is unsure of himself Animal lover? He doesn’t know what an animal is, but he does like Pokemon!

Self-perception How he/she feels about himself/herself: He thinks that he can get better and stronger, and he keeps going until he’s satisfied One word the character would use to describe self: “Determined.” One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: “I’m pretty goal focused as my friends say. But I guess I’m funny and cheerful and always there to cheer you up when you need me. I also try to be a hero and save anyone I can save. I guess...that it’s just...I want to do good in this world an’ sometimes I don’t think it’s enough...” What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? “My friendliness!” What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? “...I wish I could get myself to calm down and relax sometimes instead of constant training.” What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? “My height! Never thought I’d be this tall!” What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? “....I wish I had a better lookin’ butt. Mine’s as flat as a Luvdisc.” How does the character think others perceive him/her: “I think they see me as a strong hero, and I don;t want to disappoint them...” What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: “To stop feeling sad everytime I lose. Relationships with others Opinion of other people in general: No one is 100% evil and there’s always a reason someone acts the way they do. Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? yes, a lot of thhe time Person character most hates: no one Best friend(s): Lot’s of people Love interest(s):--multi-ship-- Person character goes to for advice: his mom, Blue, Professor Oak Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Gold, Lyra, everyone Person character feels shy or awkward around: his crush (again multiship) Person character openly admires: His dad Person character secretly admires: Blue Most important person in character’s life before story starts: his mother After story starts: Blue and his mother

found here

[dotthings]

This felt a bit like a classic Twilight Zone episode, mixed with TFW 2.0 feelings all around.

I jotted notes and stuff. Feelings and thoughts and milkshakes.

Running with the Twilight Zone structure and style here, Cas would be the character who figures out something’s just not right and things unravel around him and he’s slowly freaking out and has to get others to wake up to it and stop whatever’s happening. The eps this most reminds me of are things like “The Monsters are out on maple street” or “It’s a good life.”

Starting from the top -- so Jack doesn’t seem right. Nope. Sam’s not okay either, and as I figured already from the promo clip, yes it turns out he’s got a raging case of PTSD from the bunker crew he led all being slaughtered. While the characters weren’t designed to stand out to audience individually (except, perhaps, Maggie, and she wasn’t much developed), they meant something to Sam. Not in the sense that he got deeply close to them. As I pointed out earlier in the season, the bunker crew is a bit like the cantina crowd in Star Wars. They’re there for world-building. They'd all have good stories of their own given a chance to tell the tale but that’s not what they are in the main story for. And Sam cares but isn’t really part of them. He’s a leader who hasn’t formed deep personal bonds. 

But they were important to Sam, and Sam’s carrying a lot of guilt and trauma over their loss, which is why he blows past Dean’s protests that he’s tired and needs rest, they all need rests. Okay so everything I thought might be going on with Sam before this ep gets vocalized by the end of it, more on that in a moment.

That scene in the bunker kitchen is so...organic and domestic. I love that SPN is a monster-killing show. I’m a fan of genre shows and watching characters whose lives are strange and dangerous and how they cope with it and watch after each other, but the domestic grace notes are an important part of grounding it and making these characters seem real. This scene in the kitchen between Dean and Cas, with Sam blowing through it, was so good. So with Sam not in a frame of mind to understand Dean’s needs for rest or wait for him, and Dean needing to stay at the bunker to rest, and both Dean and Cas worried for Sam, and all of them worried for Jack, Cas basically steps into the role of family organizer, figuratively scooping them up under his wings because someone has to try to sort out this chaos and keep it together and try to make it better. So he volunteers to go on the hunt with PTSD fixated overly-driven Sam, assigns Dean to talk to possibly-soulless Jack and figure out what’s going on, tells Dean to get the sleep that he wants “’til the cows come home.”

I love that Dean says “they’re both full of crap” about Sam and Jack’s assertions of being fine. And then Cas, once he’s in the weird town with Sam, “yeah I know, everybody’s good,” Cas says grouchily. Cas is so DONE with everyone’s pretending-to-be-okay shit.

“Was it Scanners 1, 2, or 3?” I’m betting this wasn’t a Metatron pop culture upload. Oh guess what, Dean and Cas watch horror movies together. File this with the conversations and things we now Dean and Cas do together we don’t get to actually see. I wonder when their horror movie marathon was. Just after Mint Condition? Which expressly showed how great it is having a friend who’ll watch horror movies with you? Some other time?

The reveal that Cas reads the Saturday Evening Post after everyone else is asleep in the bunker is a small thing but it’s so damn good, it gives us another glimpse into what the heck Cas does while he’s not sleeping because he doesn’t need to sleep.

Sam and Cas weirded out together is adorable, as is their surprise milkshake date. 

“I think the snake is sad.” Is Jack projecting onto the snake? Assigning his own feelings of hollowness and loss from his soul being eaten away onto the snake who just lost its original owner? 

Dean trying to figure out how to talk to Jack is awkward af and endearing and Dean seems so very relieved when Jack picks the angel food cake over the devil’s food. Dean, I’m pretty sure things don’t really work that way and Jack’s choice of snack food isn’t the solution but I am appreciating the reasoning behind Dean’s relief. He knows angels are mostly dicks but hey, Cas is a thing in his life, and Jack picking angel food over devil’s food (Satan), Dean takes as an optimistic sign. Cas over Lucifer. Oh, Dean.

So. Much. Floral. And citris. Imagery. In this strange little town Sam and Cas are in. Sam holding that little rose teacup. Yellow tulips on the woman’s dress. Paintings with oranges and lemons. I think the set designer’s choices were are because citrus and flowers are generally bright, sunshine-y, "happy” things usually.

LOL Cas thinks Sam has beautiful hair. Well, he's not wrong. 

Sam’s brainwashed altered persona is disturbing yet Jared is adorable so it’s weirdly adorable but disturbing and please make it stop this isn’t Sam make it stop.

“You will snap the hell out of it!” “I don’t wear a hat.”

Grumpy Cas incredibly put out and grumpy over one of his best friends in literally the history of the universe being brain-snatched by this stepford town is a delight. 

As I said about structuring--things are unraveling around him and Cas is not a happy camper...so he deals with it. Much like he steps in and organizes Team Free Will 2.0 so everyone is looked after in different ways as needed, Cas takes charge of this case when Sam gets brainwashed. He is a competent hunter, abd he is a badass. What was that some have been saying about not seeing enough BAMF Cas? He can handle himself in a fight just fine. Albeit, his powers don’t seem to be as strong as in some previous season but I am more and more convinced this is purposeful because we know Heaven’s batteries are dying because the angels are and that’s bound to affect Cas’s power levels. So he has angel powers and he’s extra strong and self-healing and doesn’t need to eat or sleep but he’s also not the mega power we’ve sometimes seen. It makes sense.

Jack still doesn’t seem at all right and yet he seems to have a trace of a soul. He doesn’t want Sam and Dean and Cas to worry. Sam and Dean are his human role models (and no, this wasn’t Jack ommitting Cas--Cas isn’t human. We know Jack thinks the world of Cas). Which is sweet but at the same time uneasily reminds me of soulless Sam who observed Dean and then would say what he thought was expected to pass as normal. Jack latching onto Sam and Dean as models for how to act like he has a soul isn’t the same as really having one, and it’s not the same as early Cas, with all his confusing emotions broiling inside of him, adopting the Winchesters as an emotional compass and guides for how to human emotion. Jack’s going with Donatello (who is also soulless) WWTWD--What Would the Winchesters Do--literally just a plan to mimick them instead of Jack learning and feeling it himself.

“Maybe I don’t know what nothing feels like.”

Cas threatening to rip the info from the girl’s mind doesn’t seem like something he was actually going to carry out. That was a bluff, I’d say. Cas we’ve seen in the past is great at bluffing and does a good peacocking routine, a show of power. Not that he couldn’t rip the info from her. Maybe he would, at great need, to save Sam, and she was acting guilty. But I’m not sure. 

“I won’t hurt you, Sam.” Of course you won’t, Cas. We been knew, sweetie.

So first Cas organizes and tucks Team Free Will 2.0 under his wings, so to speak, then he takes over the case when his parter Sam gets sucked into the happy vortex of brainwashing, and then Cas fights off like 4 people at once including Sam, who is very tall, without harming Sam, and then Cas talks Sam down from brainwashing and from killing him with an angel blade. Interesting parallels back to Dean and Cas’s fight in The Prisoner, but with differences. Because hey, ding!, these relationships are different. It’s not about the strength of the bonds, but they are different.

“I know what it’s like to lose your army. I know what it’s like to fail as a leader but you can’t lose yourself. You have to keep fighting. You can’t lose yourself. Because if you lose yourself you fail us. You fail all of those that we’ve lost. You fail Jack. You fail Dean.”

There’s so many things all at once in this scene and Misha is so good here. There’s a bit of a nod back to the “believe in us” concept from Prophet and Loss. I appreciate that SPN didn’t go for a simple, Sam regrets talking Dean out of it. Because much as I am all for Winchesters protecting the world, as I’ve pointed out already, I didn’t feel Sam was the least bit in a heedless frame of mind where he wasn’t thinking of the risks to others, and Dean was so extremely fatalistic, accepting the fate literally written down for him, it just didn’t feel right. I don’t think SPN is saying it’s right to be punished for hope, that Sam should suffer, gee that’s what you get for wanting a little more time just to find a better way, not let the world burn, not screw everything else, just a shot at finding some other way. But in the story they are telling, there is a cost for that hope and that’s heartbreaking. Also I don’t feel Dean’s plan was risk free either. It really was a lose/lose no win situation and that is the point. They have Dean free of Michael, they are free of Michael it seems, but now look, Jack is a mess. And so it goes.

As Cas did in Prophet and Loss, reaching out to Dean in a less overt way than Sam (but not unimportant), Cas is a voice of hope again. Urging Sam not to give up, and echoing what Cas said earlier this season about valuing yourself, the core self “without all the bells and whistles.”  So there’s an important note for Sam here, and for Cas. S14 keeps having Cas vocalize on so many things it’s really important for Cas to say, about himself, but he does it via helping others. Cas has given advice to Jack, to Dean, and to Sam this season that indicates Cas listens to his own advice and has reached some insight about these things. Not only is Cas reassuring Sam, it shows that Cas understands despite his losses and failures, he’s worth not giving up on, and there are others who need him who are affected if he gives up. So Cas, having realized this, offers it to Sam in Sam’s moment of need and Sam drives the angel blade into the floor instead of into Cas (a familiar move), and shakes free of the brainwashing.

And Sam and Cas. Back in S9, Cas commiserated with Sam’s feelings of failure then too, and branded himself an even bigger screw up than Sam. SPN has shown for a while that Sam and Cas care about each other and have quite a few points in common, but it’s been a somewhat underdeveloped bond, and a little inconsistent. They’ve often bonded over their shared love of Dean, but we also have seen them caring for each other in their own right. I like their friendship. I appreciate that SPN shows that the relationships are different, and that Sam’s feelings for Cas aren’t the Sam as Dean’s, but I do think the Sam and Cas bond has been a bit neglected. So to land here, with a really big moment of connection for them over their particular shared traumas and specific senses of failures, is great to see. If we’re told they’re family, we should see it on the screen. Cas specifically was the person Sam needed right then. Just as Dean needs more than just Sam, Sam needs more than just Dean. 

Moment to appreciate the absolute miracle Mishalecki in S14 is because anyone else remember when Misha and Jared could barely get any scenes filmed there was so much messing around and Jared loves to mess with Misha, and a director had to yell at them at one point to get serious scenes filmed between them. People used to say Mishalecki was the enemy of Sam & Cas scenes. Here we are, years later, they not only filmed this immensely dramatic key Sam & Cas scene together, but did it with Jared on top of Misha, pinning him to the floor. I don’t know how they got this filmed. But they did it. Think of the gag reel. And we got a wonderful Sam & Cas scene.

Cas takes a very proactive role in this ep which is also great to see, and it’s a really interesting note on his character development to see Cas in this role of the family member holding everyone else together, knowing the right words, watching after everybody, competently handling the case temporarily solo, saving Sam, watching after Dean and Jack.  

However, notably it’s the young woman who actually saves the whole town by tapping into her own (genetically inherited) powers and taming her toxic, brainwashing father. Seizing back not only her own agency but for an entire town. There’s a Jack parallel on the tip of my brain here. The power is inherited from the parent, but what the offspring does with it is their choice.

“Yeah, I told him about the cardigan.” So Cas called Dean and told him about what happened...another Dean and Cas conversation we know took place we didn’t get to see first-hand. They talk way more than we are shown, more than we know. Unlikely they talk about the...stuff they actually need to but we keep being shown how much a part of each other’s lives they have become. They watch movies together, they talk all the time, they’ve had countless bunker kitchen talks. Cas is there. He’s been there for a while.

“I hate this place right now. Everywhere I look I see them.” That sound you heard was my heart shattering, and I’m not surprised Sam feels that way. He’s living in the place where he saw his whole team slaughtered. That’s...a lot to shoulder. But the bunker is also his home. What does a person do when their own home has been tainted by that kind of trauma (people suffer from home invasions, traumatic events, in their own home...how do people regain their sense of safety?) “this is my home. This is our home...I just need some time.” Again my heart shattering for Sam. Because he means that, yes that is home and I think Sam, as Dean did openly in SPN 300, is good with his life and who he is. But there’s no quick fix for that trauma. Sam’s not only dealing with guilt and grief and trauma, but his sense of home has been violated by what Michael did. We also know unpleasant things have happened in the Impala. Blood and trauma and fear. The Impala, like the bunker, has been home and shelter and safety, but like the bunker, has been the location of traumatic events in their lives (and who knows what kind of scary moments Sam and Dean had in that car when they were children). Yet their sense of home prevailed for the Impala and I think it will for Sam with the bunker too.

Okay. So. It seems like Jack’s soul really was fully gone already after all because he kills the snake to send its soul to Heaven to reunite with its original owner and that isn’t compassionate it’s murder and Jack thought that was a really good idea.

[bbclesmis]

Can the BBC’s Les Misérables do justice to Victor Hugo’s epic novel?

Few who love Les Mis the musical have read its source: a 1,500-page Victor Hugo novel. As the BBC tackles the book, David Bellos explains why it’s such a popular text to adapt.

The Sunday Times, December 16 2018, 12:01am

At dawn on June 19, 1815, in a muddy Belgian field where Napoleon has just lost his last battle, a scavenger filches the watch and purse of a dying soldier; a few weeks later, a long-term inmate of Toulon jail is released with a yellow passport and 109 francs. That’s where interlocking stories of Les Misérables begin, with Thénardier robbing the father of Marius, and Valjean setting off towards Digne.

If you think the magic of Les Mis comes mainly from the operatic version by Boublil and Schönberg, wait until you see the new adaptation by Andrew Davies, drawn from the book and not, like Tom Hooper’s 2012 film, from the musical, which leaves out most of Hugo’s novel’s story and doesn’t even mention the Battle of Waterloo. Davies’s script begins at the beginning, and the director, Tom Shankland, makes a truly memorable opener out of it.

Any adaptation of Les Misérables stands in a global tradition of spin-offs in every medium. In the cinema alone, there are about 70 full-length Misérables, in languages as varied as Russian, Farsi and Arabic. In Japan, there has been an independent strain of Mis-mania, expressed in manga and animé, for 100 years.

It’s not hard to see why Les Misérables is so much more attractive to dramatists than any other novel of the 19th century. Despite long passages of historical and philosophical discussion, Hugo’s saga of the poor has a simple narrative arc. It tells the redemptive life story of the former convict Valjean, from his release at Toulon to his death in Paris 20 years later. And, despite the sufferings that fill its pages, it is an optimistic story of how a man from the bottom of the pile may aspire to goodness and achieve it through persistence and sacrifice (plus the kind of luck that novels can invent). That’s dramatic enough.

Hugo was also a dramatist of genius. He created grand scenes ready for staging. The candlestick episode at Digne; the courtroom in Arras, where Valjean gives himself up to save an innocent man; the hold-up in Boulevard de l’Hôpital and Valjean’s escape from it; and the opening vision of a vulture-like thief robbing a dead man the morning after the greatest battle ever fought. Nearly all these great scenes feature a hero, part Hercules, part Christ, who defines himself through actions, not through thoughts and words. In fact, Valjean hardly says a word to himself, and not many to other people, either.

This leaves adapters and directors free to create their own image of this mythical figure. We’ve had a Valjean who looks like a tramp (the rough-hewn Harry Baur in Raymond Bernard’s 1934 film) and one who looks like a banker (in the Japanese TV serial), alongside handsome young men (Fredric March, Liam Neeson) and an action-movie star (Jean-Paul Belmondo) who had trouble pretending to be the right age. What we’ve not had is a Valjean who looks like Hugo: a short, broad-shouldered man in late middle age, in remarkably good physical shape. Despite being too tall, Dominic West, in this new TV version, comes closer than most. Les Misérables is not autobiographical (Hugo never went to prison, got buried alive or went down the sewers), but the writer’s moral self-identification with the suffering hero is one of the fundamental strengths of his book.

It was destined for the stage from the start. Even before the last volumes went on sale in July 1862, Charles Hugo, the writer’s son, began drafting a stage spectacular. A script doctor was hired to get it into shape for its premiere in Brussels in January 1863. It still flopped. But, published as a book, it influenced adaptations as to what to cut and keep.

The addition of music also has roots older than the West End musical version. Almost as soon as the first American translation of the novel appeared, a dramatist called Albert Cassedy dashed off Fantine, or The Fate of a Grisette, a popular opera with a score by Charles Koppitz. Music also plays an overlooked role in the novel: the tune Cosette practises on her piano- organ and the songs sung by schoolgirls in the Champs-Elysées, by convicts on tumbrils, by students in restaurants, hummed by a hunter in the woods and shouted out by an urchin on his way to the barricade, make up a concert programme of popular music in 19th-century France. It’s time to dust these off and perform them as the music Hugo had in his head.

Britain has had an unhappy relationship with Hugo’s epic tale because its authorised translation, by a retired military gentleman with his own views about what happened at Waterloo, was a complete disaster. For legal reasons, no new version could be brought out for decades thereafter. It didn’t help that the translation was available only in a costly hardback format.

Les Misérables reached its real audience in Britain through stage plays, and it’s amazing to see just how many there were: Charity, by CH Hazlewood, “founded on Victor Hugo’s story of Les Misérables”, was performed in London in November 1862; then came Jean Valjean, by Harry Seymour, Clarance Holt’s Out of Evil Cometh Good, in 1867, and many more. They concentrated heavily on Part I of Hugo’s five-part novel. The battle scene at Waterloo in Part II and the “revolutionary” stories of Parts IV and V seem to have been ignored most of the time.

In Russia, too, Tolstoy’s retelling of Les Misérables in simple language focused on Bishop Myriel’s charitable gift of silver to a rough customer. It was this fable-like episode, transposed into English by Norman McKinnel as The Bishop’s Candlesticks in 1908, that was turned into a silent short film by Herbert Brenon in 1913, which was then remade with a soundtrack in 1929. It never stopped, leaving Andrew Davies with a rich inheritance to renew — and to overturn. But he keeps one of the glitches that early translators made and that all Hollywood movie versions retain: he has Valjean steal the bishop’s silver cutlery, whereas in the novel he steals his silver plates (the French word “couvert” having changed its meaning).

One reason why Les Misérables has been remade in so many languages and periods is sex, or, more precisely, its total absence. It wasn’t prudery that kept Hugo off the topic. (He had plenty of experience, to put it politely.) But Les Misérables is about justice, social morality, crime, punishment, the meaning of history and the full potential of human life.

It’s true that old Gillenormand boasts of his past as a rake, but at 90 years of age, he’s long past acting out. It’s also true that Fantine becomes a prostitute — but Hugo deals with the episode in just seven words. Adaptations that put sex into the story express not what Hugo wrote about, but what some audiences are expected to find alluring.

On the other hand, a belief in the existence of a god is integral to the book’s meaning. Deeply sceptical of the Catholic church, Hugo omits Christian artefacts and rituals (including midnight Mass at Montfermeil and the church wedding of Cosette and Marius) to a degree that is almost comical in a panorama of 19th-century life, but he insisted that Les Misérables was a religious work. The prismatic glint of sunlight through foliage that Shankland deploys in the new BBC version, to show the start of Valjean’s conversion after robbing Petit-Gervais, seems to me an intelligent and respectful way of hinting at what Hugo meant.

One of the more puzzling aspects of Les Misérables and its flourishing international afterlife is its exclusive focus on France. There’s not a single foreigner among the 120 named characters in the novel; barring occasional remarks about London, Poland and the United States, Les Misérables talks exclusively about the history, politics, social structure and social ills of the country that Hugo considered to be top nation for all time, namely his own.

Though largely written in Guernsey and initially published in Belgium, the book was written for the French by a man whose long exile had no foreseeable end. Its first translator into Italian requested permission to cut historical passages because “there are some Italians, rather a lot in fact, who say: ‘This book, Les Misérables, is a French book. It is not about us. Let the French read it as history, let us read it as a novel.’”

Permission was refused. The intensity and completeness of this exposition of the social ills in 19th-century France effectively turned that now mythical place into a stand-in for the whole world. You can’t blame Hugo for not being in tune with 21st-century ideas of the politically correct, but you have to admire him for standing outside the conventions of his day.

His response to the translator has a prophetic sense, and answers in advance the question of why his French-focused masterpiece continues to attract readers, fans and adapters all over the world: “I do not know whether [my book] will be read by all, but I wrote it for everyone... Social problems go beyond borders. The sores of the human race, these running sores that cover the globe, don’t stop at red or blue lines drawn on the map. Wherever men are ignorant and desperate, wherever women sell themselves for bread, wherever children suffer for want of instruction or a warm hearth, Les Misérables knocks on the door and says, ‘Open up, I have come for you.’”

David Bellos is the author of The Novel of the Century: The Extraordinary Adventure of Les Misérables (Penguin £10.99). Les Misérables starts on BBC1 on Dec 30 at 9pm; Dominic West is interviewed in the Magazine next Sunday

‘The Glums’: a potted history

● The full text of Les Misérables in the right order of reading was not available to British readers until 2008, in a version by the Australian writer Julie Rose.

● In 1897, the Lumière brothers shot a one-minute reel of a quick-change artist masquerading as Hugo, Valjean, Thénardier, Marius and Javert. This was the first time fiction had ever appeared on celluloid film.

● Victor Hugo’s wife, Adèle, operated as publicity manager for the novel’s launch. She created a poster campaign featuring illustrations of the main characters, making the novel’s imminent appearance known long before its publication. Nothing like that had been done before. She also had announcements prepared for newspapers and requested that they were held back from publication until she gave the signal, making Les Misérables probably the first work launched under embargo.

● When Hugo was ready to publish Les Misérables in 1862, he secured the publishing deal of all time: in today’s terms, he was paid about £3m as an advance on a contract allowing the publisher Albert Lacroix to print the book for just eight years. Lacroix had to get a huge bank loan to finance the book.

● Charles Dickens met Hugo in Paris in 1847, visiting his splendid apartment on Place Royale. There is not a trace of the event in Hugo’s records, which suggests the British author didn’t make a strong impression on the literary star of his day. In Dickens’s eyes, though, Hugo looked “like the Genius he was”.

● Hugo’s contemporaries weren’t all taken with his novel: “This book is written for catholico-socialist shitheads and for the philosophico-evangelical ratpack,” Gustave Flaubert wrote to a friend.

● When Hugo fled France in 1851, both his sons were in prison and Louis-Napoléon — Napoléon III — was his sworn enemy. “Because we had Napoléon le Grand, do we have to have Napoléon le Petit?” he quipped.

● Les Misérables has been adapted for radio and cinema more times than any other novel.

● Classical literary French had a restricted vocabulary. Racine got by with about 2,000 words. Hugo uses about 20,000 different words in the 630,000 words of the text of Les Misérables — maybe as many as in all of Shakespeare working in English, which has a much larger vocabulary in the first place.

https://www.thetimes.co.uk/magazine/culture/can-the-bbcs-les-miserables-do-justice-to-victor-hugos-epic-novel-50wtqgvdj?t=ie

[coreofyourspirit]

Tupac Shakur The Spirit

Legacy-Greatest of All Time/G.O.A.T., Star on Hollywood Walk of Fame, Educational Courses taught at Universities on his life and music, Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Inductee, Biographical Books & Movies, Hologram at Coachella, Tattoos with his image, Apparel with his image, Tupac Amaru Shakur Center for the Arts, 7-Foot Bronze Statue, Tupac themed Restaurant, Stories that he is hiding out in other countries, Ongoing questions about who assassinated him, etc.

Tupac Amaru Shakur commended by God in Heaven, to come into the world in 1971 to serve as a Prophet. Tupac was born Lesane Parish Crooks and was ready for his commission when he was renamed Tupac Amaru Shakur. As Jesus was born Immanuel, he was commissioned and was then called Jesus. Abram to Abraham had the same occurrence, all of these men left a legacy and established creation in the world for God. Tupac amazed the world with his talent and ambition. He left a prolific impression on those who have been graced by his artistry, wise words and witnessing his fearless way of speaking out about the injustice placed upon him and the injustice that he observed in the inner city. A black man that inspired other black men to feel comfortable wearing a bald head. Why is it far-fetched that he worked for God in Heaven, when we acknowledge his legacy?

Tupac Shakur was in the world as a 7th Level Elder, part of a group of Elders titled Hierarchy of Heaven. They are the oldest and most mature Spirits who are complete and balance. They come into the world and experience alongside everyone, they are unconventional, mature in their personality, use their soul as a guide and closely work with God in dealing with creation. They don’t remember their full eminence while living in the world and everyday people wouldn’t know or consider what rank these people have in Heaven. God allows them the same free will as everyone, because he wants to see how they behave while forgetting their rank of attainment in spirit. God doesn’t want them to appease him, he wants them to use their soul and fix problems, they have to be selfless without trying or pretending to be, these requirements ensure that they do not take advantage or misuse their spiritual rank. God wanted Tupac to have a massive platform, that could be used for national attention. Tupac was already a very creative Spirit, so he chose music and acting as a career. He started out early at 14 years old developing his creative side and future career. Everyone can look into Tupac’s eyes and see how genuine and introspective he was, how his conversation was well past that of his age, how everyone was and are drawn to him for their own personal reasons and how he would talk about God. We don’t know many who have left an enormous legacy and have accomplished so much, even if they had lived to be 75.

Tupac had a direct connection to God and as he openly let people know that he talked to God, he already was sent insight that he had adversaries in the world and that is why he made it known in some of his lyrics. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., was also given insight and spoke about it; he knew he wouldn’t be present to see the end of the civil rights movement. In life,  when you observe and listen to the underlying message of what people say, you have tapped in to their innermost feelings, like when Tupac first piqued our interest in who Makaveli was.  When Tupac brought Makaveli into present day conversation, he was sharing what resonated in his soul. You can come back from death, because you don’t die, your spirit has returned to the world over and over. Makaveli faking his death could never happen, because you don’t die anyway, even if you get put on the cross, you don’t have a lifetime, you have an existence. Although, Tupac delivered the message in an unusual way, you have to dig deep in order to discern what he was saying about what Makaveli did and why he connected with the notion of not dying.

Tupac was sometimes looked at as a thug figure, gangster rapper, homeboy, cool and controversial, but as he left Heaven to begin his lifetime in 1971, God knew Tupac as Master Teacher, Prophet, Healer, Creative Artist, Activist, Mediator, Wise, Faultless, Mature, Intelligent, Gift Giver, Naturally Ambitious, Focused, Resilient, Trustworthy, Reliable, Philosophical, Responsible, Eyes that are good and bared the purity of his old soul, Elder. God’s colleagues the Elders, work with him in Heaven and are sometimes born into the world. Elder’s, establish creation and intervene in the leading problems in the world. When their lifetime is over, they bring back their experiences, as well as the evidence of, the methods & modalities of Spirits in the world. While in life Tupac blended in well with others and his first-hand experience gave him an insider’s view. He shared with God the pandemic of inner-city crime & poverty, murders & atrocities against each other, misdeeds of politicians, the entertainment industry, religious & personal greed, homelessness, police brutality, increased drug addiction, teenage pregnancy & prostitution, racism, children growing up in lack, decline of the family unit, criminal justice & legal system, people’s behavior hateful/lustful/jealous, the oppression of “Thug Life.” God cursed Tupac to see what life should be like. It was painful for him to witness the plight of others and that is why he was so outspoken and passionate, Tupac was doing “God’s work.”

Tupac shared his wisdom on Thug Life as anything in life, that robs you of experiencing life by oppressing you, someone else intentionally causing you hardship by exercising their personal power over you, to hold you back or keep you down. The expansiveness of your life is taken from you. Thug=Take. When you wear Thug Life on your body, you identify with being held down by circumstances, people, legal system, etc. Tupac knew the violence was attributed to a survival mentality, I’m going to take your life before you take mine. Henceforth, “Thug Life” was appropriate for the problem that existed and it was not just about Tupac intervening by coining the term and tattooing it on his body. It was about God having to deal with the massive number of Spirits that returned to Heaven murdered, taking life from each other. Tupac interceded as an Elder, with going into the trenches and sharing what it looks like, when someone wants to take from you. He did not promote gang banging and wanted them to stop taking from each other. He presented them with Thug Life and what it did to their community. Tupac wanted to bring peace to the ongoing feud between those who grew up in the inner-city just like him. He brought the idea of unity and what that would feel like. “Instead of self destructive, try self productive, all the mentality must stop, we have to find a way out. Organize, if we so strong as Hustlers, as G’s, as Thugs, then we shouldn’t have no rape, no violence and no gunshots in our community. We need to take care of our own.”  

Although in Tupac’s lifetime he was a black man, non-religious, didn’t hold to one particular ideology, he was God’s elect sent to advocate and change circumstances for the better, for a mass number of people. He innately knew that he was doing God’s work and found that, the images that reflected those doing God’s work was misleading. The characters who were supposed to be doing God’s work, got their money and went home to their luxurious accomodations after leaving their mega church and the people remained in lack and poverty. This is one of the reasons God was secure in his choice of Tupac, his reflective nature shed light on many critical matters, he did not pretend and he participated in many platforms that worked to heal the inner-city communities with underserved children. To God those children, would grow up and needed to be useful within creation, by bringing something original and beneficial to the world, that only their soul could create. God already knew that Tupac could be trusted to use his soul and that he would serve as prime example, of a person using their soul. Tupac was never distracted or slowed down by his mounting criminal allegations, he remained ambitious and focused. He was still working and wasn’t asking God to rescue him, Bloods vs. Crips Truce, East Coast/West Coast “their is no beef,” activism for political issues, activism for social issues, business, wisdom, music, movies, legal issues, etc.

Their is a spiritual explanation for every worldly occurrence and experience. Every person in the world is a Spirit who has a body and were born for a purpose. It’s everyone’s job to find their purpose and the meaning of it, that is why their will never be another Tupac Shakur. God only created one, there is no comparison to Tupac because no one has had the same experiences, that he has had within his existence and have not been commended to fulfill the specifics of his lifetime work. Tupac is a very accomplished Spirit and it took eons of time for him to develop into a Prophet and now a Lord. He earned his rise in rank and when Tupac was assassinated in 1996, he returned to Heaven and had ascended to Lord, due to him using his massive platform, reaching a wide range of people, in every age group, in every part of the world for the betterment of all. No one in the world really considered why Tupac was so great and why his legacy continues to grow? It is because he was here on business and he corrected some of the issues God was dealing with. God’s choice of his elect in the world, comes with them being tried and tested thoroughly on every level imaginable, so that they can assist in establishing creation and bringing resolve to the prevailing issue of the time. Like everyone else, Tupac is a Spirit from Heaven, who happens to be a decision maker because of his personal contribution throughout the existence of spirit. As a Lord, Tupac works in a council of Elders who create, mandate and impose ordinances/decrees that impact every individual spirit created. 

When Tupac lost his body due to the trauma it received after being shot multiple times, his spirit returned to Heaven, his work didn’t begin when he arrived on the scene as Prophet Tupac Amaru Shakur, it began when he was created.

[alicescripts]

Part 3, Chapter 8: “To Forgive”

Alice: The mountains in Tennessee look almost tropical this morning. Mist over forest canopy, lakes with low bridges. I don’t know what I pictured when I pictured this place, but it wasn’t this. I guess I didn’t picture it. Never bothered to.

Keisha: We come into Nashville. Each city skyline has that one building. The one that lets you know which city you’re looking at, because otherwise every skyscraper is every skyscraper. In New York, there’s the Empire State. In Los Angeles, there’s that round one. I dunno what it’s called, I don’t think anyone does. It’s… you know, the round one. And in Nashville, there’s the Batman building. That’s not what it’s called. I’m sure there’s some architectural reason for its design, but what it looks like is that it’s a building shaped like Batman’s head.

Alice: A soft tap on the cab door while we slept and I was already awake and tensed. A lot of training and even more justifiable worry had gone into my years fighting these creatures, and the slightest sound could mean anything at all. So that’s what I had to be ready for.

Keisha came awake too, in response to my getting up. I put my finger to my lips, crept to the door, and flung it open. The kids screamed. It was a teenage girl. My brain was putting together the pieces and was about to deliver the words “Oh you must be- “, when Keisha screamed too and threw herself past me. “Sylvia! Sylvia, you’re safe!” “Oh, you must be Sylvia,” I said. The girl nodded into Keisha’s shoulder.

Alice Isn’t Dead by Joseph Fink. Performed by Jasika Nicole and Erica Livingston. Produced by Disparition. Part 3, Chapter 8: “To Forgive”.

Alice: The meetings of what we now called Praxis continued. We met once every three months. This was not going to be a fast process. Oh, we had aged. Oh yes, almost a year and a half of this already. The battle was never going to be fast. The only way to overthrow power is by driving in the thinnest edge of the wedge and then methodically and constantly tapping it in for years. Until there’s enough leverage for what only looks from the outside like a sudden upheaval.

The meetings had taken on a religious aspect. Stories of the Oracles were now recited like encounters with angels. It wasn’t quite worship, but it wasn’t quite not. And we didn’t (deter) that. Worship and rituals can be tools, used for good or bad.

We realized that we couldn’t oversee the group entirely on our own, so we gave all of the people an assignment. Go back to where they were from and start their own Praxis group. Gather people around the same way we had. Start hundreds of these all over the country. We tapped that wedge in a little deeper.

Keisha: First I gave Sylvia some water and a bit to eat, but next I sat her down and wanted to hear where in hell she had been all this time, and if she had found anything. “Yes and no,” she said. She had gone looking for the Oracles, just like she said she would. Just like we did. And like us, she discovered quick that the Oracles are only findable when they choose to be found. There’s no stumbling on them. They come to you. Still she visited every dusty roadside stop that hadn’t seen action since the 70’s, and she poked into the corners in the back rooms. She started to get a sense for the kind of places that they were drawn to.

She discovered, like us, that even when finally encountered, the Oracles had difficulty communicating with people who experienced through such a fundamentally different filter. The more she found and talked to them, the more she felt it was most similar to the way her mind worked when she first woke up. When her thoughts were flat and straddled what was real and unreal equally. So she would meditate for hours in the mornings, trying to hold onto and extend that way of thinking, so that she might be able to understand the Oracles better.

But ultimately, she realized that the Oracles were a cause. They existed to fight back Thistle and everything that Thistle stood for. They were a purpose more than a creature. And so she realized that while she wouldn’t be able to understand them enough to help them, she could go on continuing their purpose herself. It was all she had ever cared about. This struggle was the core and soul of her.

“And I knew,” Sylvia said, “that if I wanted to be there for the fight, I had to come to you, Keisha. Because for whatever reason, you’re where that fight ends up.”

The motel we stay at is full of high school kids on a trip, to learn how to make it in the country music business. Like any city devoted to a specific entertainment industry, like LA to the movies or New York to the theater, or Las Vegas to upper despair, Nashville has a hole at the heart of it that everything in the city slopes toward.

Alice: I wasn’t there for this, so this is what I heard. A coffee shop past closing. The owner let the folks use it because she herself was a member. This was one of hundreds of small Praxis groups started by one of the original faithful. In this case, it was Daniel, who once manned the counter at the Easy Stop in Swansea. He told the others again about what we had told them, passing along our stories as best he could remember, and like anyone sort of making it up any time he needed to fill the gaps. In this way, our story spread. In much less of a direct fashion than a big headline, but in a way that people would actually receive.

Then the others told their own stories. In the hush of that half-darkened coffee shop, they shared what they had seen that hadn’t been possible and definitely hadn’t been right. But had been real. They felt the utter relief of being believed.

Keisha: “It’s all gonna end soon,” said Sylvia. And I felt every connotation of good and bad she meant by that. This was coming to a head, even though we had no real way of knowing what that would mean. “I’m just glad we could all be together for that,” I said. “Yeah man,” she said. “The three of us scattered out real good. I guess this would have to be the end, right? How else would we have ever gotten it together to be in the same place at the same time?” “What was that name you used it to go by as a teenager?” I said. “Forget it,” she said. “Skip, right?” [chuckle] “Nobody calls me Skip anymore.” “Alright,” I said. She took my hand. “You can call me Skip if you want. [scoffs] Shit, you can call me whatever. I know what you mean by it.” I put my arm around her, this runaway teenager who I would never be able to protect as much as she deserved. We sat like that for a long while, but we couldn’t sit like that forever. Couldn’t do anything forever.

Alice: “I don’t know how this will turn out,” Keisha said. “I don’t know if there will be an after, but there might be, and so we need to talk about what comes next.” “OK,” I said with real fear. We had stayed together because we had a mission, because there was a great struggle and we were on the same side. That kind of energy can paper over a lot of dysfunction and pain. If we made it through this, maybe there wouldn’t be an us left to talk about. And maybe Keisha knew it. I dreaded this conversation, but I had a lot of experience in my life of facing what I dread. So I sat down and I listened. Keisha took a long breath with her eyes closed. And then she looked at me with a calm determination, someone who had moved past indecision and had landed, for good or bad, on their way forward. “I forgive you,” she said. “I forgive you completely.” [chuckles] I felt this wash of happiness, and also surprise because they were not the words I was expecting, but she brushed aside my hand as I moved it toward her. “I’m not finished,” she said.

The members of those smaller Praxis groups were asked to start their own groups. Now the regional became the local. Most towns of any size had a Praxis group, some as small as three or four, others in the hundreds meeting in community centers and parks, in libraries and diners. We didn’t know all the details. For instance, we didn’t know what had happened to the story. The story that we had told our group, and then the members of our groups had told their groups and so on and so on.

The story had changed. It had become less an oral history and more a religious text. We had become prophets or minor deities. There were the Oracles and they were powerful beings that many had started to worship. But there were also the stories of Keisha and Alice, who controlled the Oracles, who could fight off Thistle Men singlehandedly, who would one day come and raise up the entire country against the monster that strangled it.

I-I dunno what we would have done with that story if we had known about it. But in the end, all that can be controlled is what you do. What others think about what you do is out of your hands. It was out of our hands.

Keisha: It had been over two years of this slow growth. Praxis had unfolded from a word whispered in weird corners into a tangible movement of people, a quiet gathering ready to explode into the open. And it wasn’t lost on Thistle or on Bay and Creek.

In that motel room in Nashville, a piece of paper slid under the door. Against the curtain, the shambling shadow of a misshapen man. We prepared for a fight, but it was quiet for a long time, and so I picked up the paper.

“Alice,” it said. “We should talk. It doesn’t have to be like this. Meet me at” and here it gave directions to a remote location in southern Indiana. The paper was signed “Lucy”. “They’re ready to end this,” said Alice. “Yeah,” I said. “Put out the call. What we’ve been preparing for. It’s here.”

“I’m not finished,” I said to Alice. “I’m not forgiving you for your sake. I need you to hear all of this, not just the parts you want to hear. I don’t know if you deserve forgiveness, and maybe I don’t care. Maybe there isn’t some great balance sheet where the equation of guilt can be figured until it’s all equal on both sides. And maybe it’s just what the person who has hurt feels, right or wrong. And if so then – I don’t wanna think about what you deserve. I wanna think about what I deserve.” I paused. The heaviest part was out of me now, and I could see clear through to the finish. “I deserve to live a happy life,” I said. “I deserve to have my wife who I love at my side. I deserve to wake easy in the morning and to fall asleep easy at night. I deserve to not have what you did intruding into our lives. So I want you to understand this: in order to have what I deserve, I must forgive you. But I’m not forgiving you for you. I’m forgiving you because it’s what I deserve.”

She nodded, in understanding and agreement. And there was a moment of tension. But I had forgiven her and I meant it. I leaned forward and she leaned forward and we met in the middle in maybe the best kiss we’ve ever had. Our bodies collapsed together with the gravity of everything we felt.

I had been holding my breath for years. I opened my mouth. I breathed in. [deep breath] This is love. This is what it’s made of.

The night before Indiana. I don’t know Lucy’s plan but I can guess. I don’t know who will stand on our side, but I can hope.

There is a knock, and Sylvia calls out through the door. I open it and she’s standing in the motel walkway, looking not herself under fluorescent glare. “I feel so strange,” she said. I guided her in. Alice came over and concerned. Sylvia looked seriously ill. I had never seen her face like that. I didn’t know what was happening. And then Sylvia fell to the ground and began to tremble. Tears splashed off her face as she shook. “I understand,” she said. “I understand.”

And in a terrible moment, I did too.