#the screaming my do nothing in the face of my executive dysfunction but we have to try something

[eugenedebs1920]

So I’ve been researching voter suppression and was planning on writing a whole, overly long, data driven, boring diatribe (still might) when I ran in to this. Rep. Takano lays it out better than I could.

Here is House Committee on Veterans’ Affairs, Ranking Member Mark Takano addressing Republican Committee members when voting to subpoena the VA for documents regarding registering veterans to vote.

9/10/2024

“Good Morning and thank you. Prior to our January 11 vote to authorize a subpoena regarding documents in the Committee’s investigation into sexual harassment at VA, this Committee had not voted to issue a subpoena since 2016. 

 When I held the gavel during the last two years of the Trump Administration, this Committee did not issue a single subpoena. There were plenty of occasions we could have issued subpoenas for the sake of performance over real oversight, but we chose to put veterans over politics.  

We relied on the independence of the Inspector General to thoroughly identify and investigate wrongdoing, and we chose not to interfere with ongoing investigations to score press and media hits. 

Yet now, the Republican Majority this Congress has threatened to subpoena VA on at least a dozen occasions for its supposed failure to comply with the Majority’s impossible requests. This severely cheapens this Committee’s oversight authority.  

We have been through this exercise several times before under the current Majority, and the script is highly predictable.  

The Chairman makes a vague, onerous, and overly burdensome document request of VA with a purposely unmeetable deadline. VA produces documents in response to the request.  

The Majority doesn’t like the answer they receive, screams that VA failed to meet their unmeetable deadline and then threatens to, or in this case goes through with, issuing a subpoena to compel VA to produce documents they don’t have, are already trying to produce, or have already produced.  

The question we must ask is why we see such temper tantrums from our current Majority?  It is not out of an earnest desire to acquire information and hold VA accountable for its failings. No, clearly it is not. Rather, this subpoena resolution, and frankly the hearing that will follow, is a red herring meant to distract veterans from the truth: that this Republican majority has absolutely nothing to show for its time in charge other than chaos, dysfunction, and paranoia.  

I hope the veterans who are watching see this subpoena for what it is, an anti-democratic and purely political effort to stoke conspiracy theories and ultimately suppress efforts to help veterans and their caregivers vote. Why does the Majority want to suppress the votes of veterans and caregivers? We should want all veterans and caregivers to be able to vote. With how much control elected officials wield over veterans’ health care and benefits, the stakes are enormously high for veteran voters, and their voices should be heard. It is dumbfounding to me that my colleagues would take issue with veterans exercising their right to vote, a right they served and fought for and sometimes died to protect.  

The Heritage Foundation, the same organization responsible for Project 2025, is using the Republican-led committees across Congress to suppress voter access.  

They have literally published a public-facing memorandum outlining strategies to frustrate efforts to encourage Americans to exercise their fundamental right to vote.  

But what makes this subpoena particularly weird and confusing, is that its underlying premise is that VA should not promote veterans’ access to voting, though it has been VA policy to do so since the Bush Administration. This policy was most recently renewed during the Trump Administration.  

Even weirder, the law underpinning this policy and President Biden’s Executive Order has been in place for thirty years. The National Voter Registration Act explicitly allows states to request that federal agencies or non-governmental agencies accept the designation as a voter registration agency.  

Pursuant to this law, VA is partnering with the state of Michigan to be a voter registration agency, but VA has considered partnerships with Kentucky, Georgia, Hawaii, Pennsylvania, and Nevada to help veterans access the polls.  

Yet the Majority is insistent that VA’s efforts constitute electioneering or some sort of partisan political effort to affect voting in swing states and districts. How is registering veterans to vote, no matter where they are, inherently partisan or political?  

Through the partnership with Michigan, VA is providing voter registration assistance to veterans in very limited circumstances when processing a change of address or during a Public Contact Team appointment. VA employees were given training by state officials, which included a review of prohibited partisan political conduct while assisting veterans with registration as required by law.  

If my colleagues are so concerned with states and agencies following the letter of the National Voter Registration Act, why aren’t they spending their time repealing it?  Instead, my colleagues are attacking VA for helping veterans register to vote. They are making a mockery of the Committee’s subpoena authority to the most anti-democratic end I have ever witnessed on this Committee. And I am frankly appalled that they have decided to go to these lengths to serve their political aims. This is not Congressional oversight. This is voter suppression.  

In the hundreds of documents VA has already produced for the Majority, there is nothing to indicate that VA has violated the law in any way. The only thing I am concerned about in terms of VA’s actions here is why they are not doing more to register veterans to vote.  

Later this week Congress is voting on the SAVE Act, which requires proof of citizenship before registering to vote in federal elections.  The Majority has no credible evidence that foreign citizens are voting in federal elections; in fact, this is already an illegal practice.  

But this Majority has proven that it will never be deterred by facts or evidence, so it is no surprise they are going to plow forward with this bill. I am opposed to it and will be voting no. But what’s shocking is that in their rush to block people from voting, my colleagues on the other side of the aisle have decided that blocking veterans from voting is just as important as blocking undocumented immigrants.  This subpoena is a gross and obvious effort to stifle veteran voter registration. This is voter suppression.  

But again, it is also a red herring, a distraction from the Majority’s inability to lead, their inability to govern, and their inability to accomplish anything meaningful for veterans.  

I certainly do not have veterans banging on my door demanding to know why VA is helping veterans register to vote. However, I do have service members stationed overseas contacting my office saying that they need better access to voting – an issue I am working on. I also have veterans and their providers asking me what our plans are to ensure VA has the resources it needs to continue delivering health care and benefits to those who have earned them. So, I must ask who does this Majority serve – veterans or Project 2025?  

I also must ask, to what end is this exercise? I have yet to see my Majority colleagues produce any legislation that actually addresses the issues we’ve spent countless hours of Committee time considering in hearings to help improve VA.  

All I have seen is wasted time on deeply flawed bills that have no outlook for becoming law because they are Project 2025 pipe dreams that will do nothing to actually improve VA or help veterans.  

Mr. Chairman, using the subpoena authority of the Committee to investigate conspiracy theories is beneath us and should never be considered.  

The Committee must hold itself to the highest possible standard, because abuse of the subpoena for political gain – especially when it implicates fundamental constitutional rights – is a very real risk.  

 By fear mongering and stoking conspiracies that VA is doing something nefarious by registering veterans to vote, my colleagues are showing how little they trust veterans to actually exercise their right to vote. But I will say to veterans: I know how smart you are, and that you will see through the Majority’s partisan efforts.  

And I know how powerful you are as a voting bloc… I have seen it and felt it.  

It is important for everyone to participate in the electoral process, including veterans.  And I encourage my colleagues to vote NO on this subpoena resolution. With that, yield back.”

There’s one party in America that encourages the vote. There’s one who does all they can to suppress it. What side do you want to be on?

[sometilememes]

if someone yells at me enough i will draw mumbo jumbo as a nutcracker

[circethegoblin]

STAYING ALIVE MASTERPOST, FROM A BROKE TEEN WITH ADHD

here you go. some down to earth tips on how to not die metally nor physically.

tired of those "drink three liters of water everyday uwu" and "wake up at 5 am" and "buy a bath bomb and a fec mask and some other things you don't have the money for" shit? i'm here for ya.

1. NOT DYING

eat at least three meals a day, one of which m u s t be warm and above 300 kcal (it can be istant ramen with an egg added if you have to)

you technically should shower everyday, but we know how it is. A change of clothes is sometimes enough.

DRY SHAMPOO AND BABY WIPES!!!

keep bottles with water everywhere. On your desk, near that spot on the floor you always end up sitting on, near your bed, basically whenever you know you spend a lot of time. No need to get up and go to the kitchen will help. Obviously change the water in the bottles as often as you can.

Get some form of physical activity. It doesn't have to be much, you can for example replace scrolling on tiktok by walking around your room and scrolling on tiktok! Brilliant, isn't it? Obviously, running or doing those 10 minutes workouts from youtube is better, but you are still getting like an hour of walking.

Buy blankets. Steal blankets. Summon blankets from other dimensions. Just make sure you have a lot of warm, soft blankets in your house. You will thank me when you won't have the anergy to wash your sheets (just take them off and throw some blankets on your bed), or when the power goes out.

If you have pets, ALWAYS keep spare food that'll last for a week for them.

things to always have in the kitchen: milk, eggs, flour, rice, pasta, yeast, cheese, oil, a leafy vegetable, onions, tomatoes, apples, patatoes, some flavourful sauce, sugar, salt, spices and an emergency chocolate bar. You can make a lot of food with those. Just make sure you won't eat the chocolate too fast.

Have a lot of spare batteries. A lot.

Get urself a flashlight, a lighter, and a pocket knife.

Remember the apples? eat one a day. if you don't like apples or you can't eat them for any other reason, you can take a kiwi, banana, orange, basically something that will give you vitamins and non processed sugar.

do the dishes before your sink starts developing it's own ecosystem

drugs from that one guy around the corner = very bad time

2. NOT DYING INSIDE

Open the damn window.

Don't watch so many commentary videos. You are probably not even checking the sources, so you can easily make unjust judgement, and like. did you even hear of half of those people before?

make a discord server just for yourself. get into the habit of writing little things that happened to you there. rant about the fanfics you read. or the movies. vent there if you don't have anyone you can vent to. write your ideas there, write e v e r y t h i n g. make a section for passwords, for quick ideas, for your to do lists. you won't lose it as you do with sticky notes or notebooks. there is no risk anyone will see it. oh, and when you'll have a strong impulse to tell emily that you hate her? write that message in your private server and list all ur arguments. look at tat the next day and decide if you really mean that.

life sucks. come to peace with it.

cuddle ur pets if you have them

1 hour a day without a lot of sensory input. if you have to, reduce to half an hour.

if you find yourself scrolling endlessly through social media, make sure it's pintrest (just don't compare urself to the people here; if you have issues with that, tumblr may be better)

delete. twitter. from. your. phone.

influencers are lying to you; maybe not even intentionally. remember when you were watching that cute-aesthetic-productive morning routine, and you were wondering why your life isn't that pretty? why your room is a mess? why you cannot for the life of god be aesthetic 24/7? its the filter. don't worry about it, their lifes arent that nice either.

realize there's actually nothing stopping you from screaming as loud as you can right now. like there is no physical barrier. think about it. realize there's no actual physical barierr to many other things.

your body is your body. you can decide how it looks like; just remember it's in your greatest interest to keep it healthy.

3. BEING A LITTLE BETTER THAN JUST ALIVE

If you wear make up, take it off before you go to sleep.

moisturize your body; everything is better when your skin doesn't feel dry

have a one brand of cosmetics that you love and buy things mainly from it. they often have sets of products that complete each other. i like ziaja. it's a polish brand, it's surprisingly cheap and has nice quality

cleanser, moisturizer, face mist

of you can, change your sheets once every two weeks

do the dishes before your sink starts developing it's own ecosystem

do a deep house clean once a month (don't beat yourself up when you don't tho)

keep your workspace organized (it doesn't have to look organized to other people, remember)

sunscreen

cook your own food

keep a calendar

no money for scented candles? got ya. make a simmer pot: throw some apple peel, a couple of cinnamon sticks and whatever spices that smell good you have into a pot, add some water and simmer. boom. your house smells good, and you haven't spend 20 dollars.

If you really like candles, buy scented wax melts. it's cheaper.

Buy urself scented mists. they're pretty cheap and will make you feel A LOT better.

keep your clothes clean. if you aren't sure if that shirt thats on your chair is dirty or not, throw it in the washing mashine anyway. better be sure.

if you can, make your bed right when you get up

wear clothes that make you feel good. put some effort into your outfits. really.

4. OTHER PEOPLE

be nice to essential workers.

if you have money, give tips.

remember, you do not owe anyone love; it is not something you can force. even if they saved your life. even when they helped you in your darkest time. if you don't love them, you don't.

you don't have to be in a romantic relationship to be happy.

if you want to, date! date everyone! date girls, date boys, date nonbinary people! date people completly different than you, date people from different countries, date them!!! just make sure they're kind and won't kill you. even if you don't end up in a relationship, you can learn a lot.

don't be afraid to piss off people that deserve it

smile to strangers :)

5. NOT FAILING SCHOOL

heard of dark academia? check it out

romanticize the heck out of studying

do not let your studying be just reading the same partagraph over and over again. it won't work. believe me.

seterra for geography, quizlet for everything else

try to make yourself intrestet in whatever you are studying (watch veritasium, listen to podcasts about weird history facts)

notes are for you and you only; don't worry about them looking pretty. doodle on margins, make weird metaphors, squeeze in as much info as you can.

when you're studying, listen to music without words/in a language you don't understand.

chew gum while you study

get the forest app, get attached to the trees, focus.

don't feel guilty for taking breaks

grades aren't everything, but they are important.

eat something in school

don't just use the cheapest pens. invest a couple dollars in something that will make writing enjoyable and smooth

those study with me videos? they're great

if you like to argue with the teachers, take care of your grades becouse. they may not like you afterwards.

be nice to your classmates and help them with homework. if you don't do your homework they'll help you

executive dysfunction won't let you study? been there. sometimes it's better to wake up ealier tommorow and do that homework then.

don't feel guilty for failing a test

go to the goddamn class

don't pull all nighters oh my god don't especially on weekdays

6. OTHER LIFEHACKS

don't get involved in the crime, and if you do always have a believable explanation why you were doing it

have different alarm sounds for every day of the week

set a daily limit of money that you spend

great hobbies that don't require a lot of money; urban exploration, writing, hiking and learning other languages

thrift stores

don't eat grapefruits while on meds

nail polish removers dissolve most strong glues.

if you have a cut on your skin, desinfect it. do it. please just do it.

always have pads with you. even if you don't get periods, at least one of your friends probably does

sign up in your local library. its free

[stxleslyds]

MY TOUGHTS ON PART FOUR OF RED HOOD BY CHIP ZDARSKY :)

THIS ONE IS A MESS.

But first a little rant about my feelings about Red Hood in general at the moment.

I am not going to lie, it took me a long time to read this comic, I am kind of tired of reading this book, I feel like I lower my expectations each issue that passes by and I still get disappointed at the result.

Maybe I just love a Jason Todd that is no more and I have to accept the one we have now, but here is the thing, if this is what we get then I just don’t like it, and on rough days I hate it. These are very negative thoughts about one of the two DC characters that I love and I don’t enjoy having them, I don’t want DC to keep giving us this version of Jason or these versions of Jason, each time they change little things that just change the character from the one that he once was even more.

I feel a bit defeated about it and I don’t know, on one side I want to fight and scream so they can finally give Jason the characterization he deserves and for them to give up the bland formula they have going on with him and on the other side I just want them to stop, stop writing Jason Todd/Red Hood and that is so sad, imagine loving a character and wanting the publisher to stop making content with them because what they give is just terrible. I don’t know, this is a rant that I felt like writing before I read the issue (I did skimm it briefly), so don’t take this as part of the review, its just me explaining my feelings right now.

Anyway, I will start the review now, sorry for the rant.

Wonderful, this book is on crack (or should I say Cheerdrops?), the thing with this particular issue is that I had a great laugh, it’s funny but in a good way, it's stupid and it kind of doesn’t make sense, the only way to describe Zdarsky’s writing here is with a phrase that we say here in my country “se pisa el palito”, which means that he lies about something and after some time he reveals the truth himself by mistake or because he got confused, in this case Zdarsky makes Jason say something like “this time I have come prepared” but he is actually not prepared at all and like two pages later (within the same scene) he has Jason call himself an amateur, it's very weird and to me it translates to Zdarsky not liking Jason or just not caring about him at all.

And that sucks and it really bothers me. As I have said before this anthologies book might be called Batman: Urban Legends but the particular story I am reading is a RED HOOD one, I am not here for Batman content, I am here for Jason Todd content.

The fact that we are not getting a Jason-specific story in a Red Hood book is killing me, it would suck if we get, let’s say, a Nightwing book and its all about his relationship with Barbara…That is not a Nightwing book, that’s a Nightwing and (fake) Oracle book.

Anyway, this issue in general is like a connector, the things that happen are all happening because they will be developed in the next issues but what is said here is absolutely absurd so I will be talking about that.

This issue starts with a flashback and Jason from the present (who is currently a popsicle because he fell in Freeze’s trap) having a monologue. The flashback is set when Jason finds out that his birth mother is alive and is being used by the Joker so he (in civilian clothes) and Batman at doing some reckon. What I want to dive into is the monologue because it's interesting but also very dumb so here we go.

“What was I supposed to do? I thought I was an orphan; I carried that sadness and anger everywhere I went and then I found the woman who gave birth to me halfway across the world. I found her…and the Joker. He was blackmailing my mother, forcing her to help him steal medical supplies, which he replaced with a deadly gas, that was being hauled to a village.”

“Batman knew what he had to do. Save people, forever saving people. Batman has always been a master of control, every situation, everyone around him. He’s always known just how to handle everything. Until I came along.”

“How could he be surprised? How could the great Batman not know? I wouldn’t listen to him and he couldn’t hear me. And the fucking cycle continues.”

The first part of the monologue is pretty simple it's basically setting the scene in time and space for the reader and it also gives us a little insight on how Jason was feeling at the time which was quite nice. It sets up the fact that Jason wanted to help his birth mother out of a horrible situation, he wanted to save her from the Joker. (Hear that DC, haters and fanon, Jason was a good Robin and a loving and caring son!!!!!)

In the second paragraph of the monologue I would have assumed that Dick never existed in this universe because the idea of Batman being able to control Robin!Dick or Gotham back in the day by himself is incredibly funny to me but because Dick exists and has been mentioned in this story already I will just take it as Zdarsky wanting to really push the “Jason could never reach the level of good Robin because he was reckless and nothing like Dick” and the “Dick was always completely obedient and Batman’s perfect little soldier” narratives. It sucks man, this is like bad fanon made real and I don’t like it!

During this part we also have a little dialogue between Batman and Jason where the narrative of Jason being so incredibly reckless is explicitly shown once more.

Let me repeat myself, Jason didn’t take on the Joker because he wanted to prove himself to the Bat or to prove that he was as good a Robin as Dick was, Jason did what he did because he wanted to save the last person that he had that he felt was family, he wanted to save the woman who birthed him and that he was hoping he could call a mother. He worried and cared for this woman and then he was betrayed and it ended up ending with him dying at the hands of a mad man that to this day is still alive.

Jason wasn’t reckless for the sake of being reckless, he took the decisions he took because he didn’t feel heard by the man that was supposed to protect him and care for him, a man that had the same feelings of sadness over being an orphan, a man that despite being the greatest detective to ever detective in the multiverse couldn’t understand that Jason felt like the woman that was his birth mother could come first in his list of priorities. Jason was a child and the adult responsible of him at the time bares the fault of his death as much as the mad man that committed the crime.

There, I fucking said it.

Gladly in the third paragraph of the monologue Jason calls out Bruce on his bullshit.

Also, what the hell was Bruce thinking leaving Jason stranded in the middle of the dessert, the man literally takes the only mode of transportation away from him. What the hell.

That’s it for the first glimpse at the past, now we are in the present with Ice!Jason where Zdarsky lies to our faces, he says that Jason is prepared for this situation…I am sorry but I do not believe this.

Anyway, Jason does manage to break the ice but he trips on the iced floor almost as soon as he breaks free and falls in a hole. Are you kidding me? I know this is supposed to be funny but Jason has been written as this incompetent dumbass in this book so much that this is just insulting.

He manages to escape for three or four seconds but he realises once more that the whole thing was a trap because Freeze had actually closed all the exists with ice because he meant to trap the Bat (also maybe Freeze is under the effects of Cheerdrops?), Jason also tries to use his guns even though he had already thought about the fact that they wouldn’t fire because of the cold AND he didn’t pack his explosives, yeah… “I am now prepared”, sure Jan.

The last thing we see in this scene is Freeze getting ready to ice Red Hood once more before we start jumping from past to present scenes as Jason’s monologue continues, he does that a lot in this issue, it’s quite impressive.

We jump into the past and we see Jason going to help his mother in his Robin suit, her betrayal and the Joker being ready to torture and kill a child. From there we go back to the present where Jason manages to ask Oracle for help but not anyone’s he asks for the Batman’s help.

First let’s talk about the monologue that happens across these scenes because it has some interesting takes.

“Stupid amateur, its not going to be okay, not if we keep repeating the same mistakes. He never trusted me, I never trusted him. Neither of us lived up to the idea of ‘Batman and Robin’, the ‘Dynamic Duo’. Because Batman and Robin requires trust, it requires knowing you can’t do it alone.”

Let’s be honest as per the modern take on Batman and Robin (if it includes Bruce as Batman) the dynamic is quite dysfunctional, Batman doesn’t know how to care for a child and children shouldn’t be responsible for an adult’s safety, so the whole thing has been weird for every Robin, its not something that happened only to Jason but here is the thing, in Under the Red Hood (which is canon in this story) when Batman and Red Hood fought side by side Bruce said the following: “…Neither of us has the strength to take him out, it will require skill and teamwork. It happens before I have time to question it, a manoeuvre that comes without thought, executed as practiced and practiced many times in the cave.”

So, him and Jason worked well, they trusted each other and the work they were doing but that is not all, because they are in the middle of a fight the Red Hood doesn’t act recklessly and takes the opportunity attack the Bat when he is vulnerable, he sticks to the coordinated fight because he trusts it will work. Batman’s thoughts confirm that because he continues saying this: “To complete it (the manoeuvre) I’m forced to leave myself unprotected from an attack, an attack from the Red Hood. But the attack never comes, he just takes cover from the blast, like practiced.”

– Batman: Under the Red Hood, chapter 10.

This thing alone, written in 2005 kills the narrative of Bruce’s Batman and Jason’s Robin not working well together.

Secondly, I have to laugh about what it's actually said in the very last panels. I am sorry but it's too funny to me, I know it acts as a parallel to Jason asking for the Bat when he was about to die but this is a man, a grown man that has experience on this job, this situation would have never happened if Jason was written fairly. This is funny because of all the people in the world I would never imagine the Red Hood asking for Batman’s help. Fuck that.

Oracle of course contacts Batman but let me say something really quickly, Barbara and Bruce are both acting like Jason getting in trouble and needing help is an annoyance. What the hell is wrong with these people? Why would Jason work with Oracle or Batman in the first place?

Batman gets in the Batmobile as soon as he can and dares call Jason his son. No thank you sir, I will not be taking that kind of bullshit today. Anyway, the Bat also has a monologue because he can’t be less, here it goes.

“Jason. Dammit, son. I’m on my way, I won’t let you…” (explosions) “You’re alive. In the here, in the now. I know this, like magic…with a curse…You’re alive.”

“I don’t need to be there again, in the past. I’ve learned my lessons, the guilt doesn’t help me, it doesn’t have a hold on me anymore. You’re alive, Jason and I intend to keep it that way.”

To this I have to say the following, the only reason why Bruce is not feeling guilty about what happened to Jason is because Jason forgave Bruce/Batman for not arriving in time in order to save Jason from the explosion back in that warehouse all those years ago. Jason forgave Bruce when the final confrontation happened in UtRH. He did it because he believed that Bruce tried and still didn’t make it.

- Batman: Under the Red Hood, chapter 13.  

And something else, Bruce might have been “keeping Jason alive” but he has harmed him. Rebirth RHatO #25 exists, I don’t know if it's canon within this particular story but I can’t not bring it up if this is what this man has to say.

My take on the Batman and Red Hood relationship is that it shouldn’t exist. Red Hood is not a Batman villain but he IS a Batman antagonist. STOP making Batman and Red Hood work together, with how things ended in UtRH Jason would never work with Bruce again. I am sorry but the concept of the Batfamily with Jason as a willing participant is the biggest lie this fandom and Lobdell gave us.

Enough of my takes, let's go back to the issue because it's ending is closer and the funniest panels in this whole ass book are coming!

Batman does Batman shit and as he grapples out of the Batmobile, he manages to get Ice!Jason out of a truck and everything comes to a stop, the bad guys come out of said vehicle and one of them is going in Red Hood's direction with the intention of killing him, Batman of course saves Jason and starts fighting the rest of the baddies.

I will show you funny panel number one.

You really want to make me believe that Bruce can pull that move, shut up!!!! There is no way! That’s some Nightwing level of leg work, stop it, if the Bat pulls that move he will break something or get stuck like that…

Ahh it doesn’t matter because as Batman finishes defeating all the baddies he goes to Jason’s side and here is where funny panel number 2 comes!

STOP IT, WHAT THE HELL IS THISSS? I am losing my mind over this, have you ever seen something and thought “oh this is wrong wrong” like what? This interaction is so wild to me, everything about it makes no sense…Imagine putting Jason Todd in such a vulnerable position that he is, I don’t know, happy or glad that the Bat showed up and that Batman would say that he will always be there for Jason, this shit is hilarious.

But that’s not the end, at this point nothing should shock me (as far as character designs) but this dude shows up…

Who the hell is this guy, and why does he look like that, why are all these new character designs the same and horrible? He reminds me of the weird discount-Joker-looking dude that we had in Rebirth RHatO #52

Anyway, the new dude that will be called Cheer (apparently) and Freeze ice Batman as well and that’s it, our Red Hood related suffering is over up until next month!

This one, this one was wild, I don’t know what else to say about it…I am honestly drained after reading the issue and writing this.

Let me know what you thought about this issue and if you want to read my reviews of the previous parts I will link them here! Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3!

[adultingautistic]

Hi! Adult diagnosed with autism just recently and I’m trying to understand more terms used by the community! I have masking, stimming, and samefoods learn but are there other common ones I should know about?

Oh wow!  This is a good idea, a glossary of sorts! 

At first I was like “HOW WILL I EVER THINK OF THEM ALL?? MY MIND HAS GONE TOTALLY BLANK, WHAT’S AN AUTISM???”

But then I realized I already HAVE a pretty extensive list- it’s my tag list for this blog!  So, here ya go, starting with the 3 you listed:

masking

stimming

samefoods / samesong / samemovie

sensory input - the 5 senses, and how they interact with your brain.  When you see/hear/feel/smell/taste something, that is “input” into your brain

Bad Sensory Input / sensory hell - Autistics experience horrific sensory input in a way that allistics just do not, and there are no words to describe it, so we invented our own.  Bad Sensory Input is something that is far, far more horrible than just “unpleasant”.  For example, smelling a dumpster is a bad smell, but smelling mint for me is a Bad Smell, it makes me react very violently and almost puke, and I would much RATHER smell a dumpster than have to smell mint, so for me, mint is a Bad Smell.  

sensory sensitivity - Describes the condition of being affected by Bad Sensory Input

sensory overload - When your 5 senses are receiving too much information for your brain to handle.  Can lead to a meltdown/shutdown

autistic burnout - When you’ve been dealing with overload situations over an extended period of time, and run out of spoons (the energy it takes to do day-to-day things)

spoons - Not strictly an autistic term, but used by the entire disabled community at large.  Wikipedia explains it really well

self diagnosis / self dx - Because of a huge number of difficulties in getting professionally diagnosed, the autistic community accepts and advocates for self-diagnosis, that is, a person saying they are autistic based on their own personal experiences and research, without the diagnosis of a doctor

special interest / spIn (abbreviation, that’s a capital i) - More than “just a hobby”, an intense interest in a particular subject that takes away from learning about other subjects (causing “narrow interests” in the person), because so much time is spent on the special interest.  

hyperfixation / hyperfocus - When you are so engaged in the task you are doing that your brain has no room left to process other stimuli, such as hearing the world around you, realizing you need the bathroom, realizing you’re thirsty, etc

emotional overload - When your emotions become so intense it can send you into meltdown / shutdown

emotional dysregulation / emotional regulation - The inability to “reign in” emotions; having emotions that are much too big for a situation, having emotions that are a huge overreaction to a situation, or also a huge underreaction

auditory processing disorder - A hearing disorder that occurs when there is nothing wrong with the ears, but the brain struggles to interpret sounds.  Greatly affects the ability to understand speech.

echolalia / echologia - Repeating of words or phrases that you’ve heard, for various reasons.  Echolalia is repeating the words out loud, echologia is repeating them only in your mind

face blindness - A deficiency in the ability to recognize/remember faces

executive dysfunction / executive function - Poor executive function causes a person to struggle with planning, organization, remembering to do tasks, etc

propioception - the ability to feel the position of one’s body in relation to itself and the world around it.  Struggling with proprioception causes a person to be “clumsy” or “accident-prone”

meltdown / shutdown - A reaction to sensory or emotional overload.  The brain taking drastic measures to protect itself from more input, as it cannot handle any more.  Meltdowns are outward survival actions such as fight, flight, or hide, including kicking, screaming, or running away.  Shutdowns are internal reactions, where the person no longer responds to outside stimuli.

nonverbal - Nonverbal autistics are people who have very limited speech or are not able to speak

going nonverbal / becoming nonverbal - Many autistics are “partially” verbal, meaning they can speak when not stressed, but if they become overloaded lose their ability to effectively communicate with speech (called ‘going nonverbal’).  Can be a symptom of a meltdown/shutdown.  While I’ve seen this term used in the autistic community, @garbageonionpeople pointed out “I’ve seen a lot of nonverbal autistic ppl say they’d rather if people who are not nonverbal use something like “lose speech” instead of “go nonverbal”, since it gives the word an implication of impermanency”.

nonverbal communication / nonverbal cues - The parts of human communication that are not speaking, such as body language, facial expression, and gestures.  Autistics struggle to both interpret and display these forms of communication.

accommodation / self accommodation - The changing of an environment or behavior to alleviate autistic symptoms so that the autistic person can function in a less stressful way

abelism - Bigotry that stems from the attitude that disabled people are somehow worth less than non-disabled people.  The idea that disabled people are the ones who need to change to fit into an abled world is abelism.

allistic - a non-autistic person.

empathy / hyperempathy /hypoempathy - Empathy is the ability to feel the emotions of others.  Autistics tend to have either high empathy or low empathy, meaning we are either very affected by the emotions of others, or are not affected much at all.  This is not the same as compassion, autistic people with low empathy can still be very compassionate and care very much about others.

So even though this is a pretty good list, I’m sure I still forgot stuff!  If other people want to add stuff I forgot, please do so!  I also realize that these definitions are VERY short.  If you have more questions, search my blog for the tags, as all of these I got from posts I made with much more detailed explanations.  Or of course, search the tumblr tags, or google.

[purekesseltrash]

Okay referring to one of your reblogs here’s my favorite lines from BTD ‘cause it was one of my favorite fanfics of all time (I’m serious)

Non-serious one, : “The scarring was still awful though, he was never going to be able to get past that. But not actively breaking out… that was a good step.” GOD OKAY, I’ve struggled and am still struggling with acne for years now, and that just.. hit home man, the days where your not getting NEW acne and just the old ones you just couldn’t hack being the most prominent make or break your day

Serious one, : “Mezou’s body was a collection of tools that had somehow never seems adequate or correct, despite having been honed for a singular purpose since he had been little.” AHHHHHHHH, this line fucked me up, once again I’m mentioning my background with gymnastics, in gymnastics your body is all you have, sure you have equipment to land on but judges and coaches focus on your body and how it looks, and as someone who had horrendous lack of self esteem being put into a spandex leotard and having to have someone purposely look at you and critique you broke me, sure gymnastics was my passion but it broke me, so safe to say, you struck gold with that one. I’m pretty sure I blocked out all of gymnastics until I was age twelve when I rejoined cause I legit only have two memories of it, and one of the m was when I was refusing to go, so, yea, being good at sports when your young fucks you up, I missed this, sending you a big fucking ask revolving around BTD

Precious worm assssssssssssk! I have missed these too, lol. Ngl, I've been rereading this all day.

I actually never had awful acne, I just have TURRIBAD executive dysfunction so washing my face didn't happen for a long time until I started hyperfocusing on skincare stuff. So it was not great but my own fault. When I was deep in my skincare fixation though, I definitely would have days where the way that my skin looked could make or break me. Which frankly is likely not healthy buuuut it was what it was.

I thought for a LONG time about what I wanted to do with Shouji’s face to make him hate it. I thought about him having had an accident but Bury Them Deep is supposed to feel pretty real and down to earth. Plus I've had so many friends with super bad cystic acne that have reeeeally struggled with their self image because of it, so it felt right. I only thought to make his teeth bad later on and I wish I'd thought of it sooner as I could have worked it in sooner. I've actually based a decent amount of stuff from his upbringing from my partner's and braces were very much so not going to be in the picture for him. It's legit though how much something as simple as bad teeth can make you feel like an outcast.

Brooooo, I'm so glad it connected with you like that! That paragraph is legit one of my favorites in the fic because it really nails the 'nothing in my life feels like it belongs to me, even my body' mood that I was going for. I did get a part of that line from Ken Dryden's book, The Game. In it he describes his body as a collection of parts and it just SLAMMED into my brain when I was relistening to the audio book. I also like it because it feels like a way to tie in the canon aspects of Shouji and 'a collection of tools' is a very good way to describe his quirk. I added in other stuff as a reference to his quirk too, like his intense appetite, how he noticed really fine details and how he heard the car coming up at the car party.

You honestly might like reading 'The Game'. Ken talks a LOT about having been A Unique Talent at a young age and what it ended up meaning for him. He specifically talks alot about how he never really felt like he was apart of anything because he was always the youngest and always the best and how he never really sought that out, it just kinda... happened. He's an extremely good writer and was an incredible hockey player. I had to bring him up in the fic.

I did also want to talk about how we treat prodigies in the fic because yeah man, what you describe is disturbingly common. I've read a lot about the lives of early generational talents and it's fucking brutal how much pressure is being put on kids at such an early age. Sidney Crosby, for instance, would legit have parents scream at him in games from the stands.... in games where he was ten years old and already playing with kids that were bigger, faster and stronger than him. He full on had things thrown at him, like pop and food. And he never really got time off, it was just hockey hockey hockey all the time. I'm sure that he would say that it was worth it but as a society, we have a nasty habit of holding up children that have been made to make horrible sacrifices and we go, 'this is the pinnacle of what we can achieve'.

No. It isn't. It's sad but people's egos and dreams get in the way when they start to put that on children. Man, Hizashi’s little speech must have been a lot for you.

(Also if this is too personal and you want me to delete, I will. <3. I miss your worm asks you are ALWAYS welcome to send them)

[itsybitsylemonsqueezy]

Please now I am desperate for a Baba breakdown from you. Favorite part of him? Least favorite? What would you change? What do you think is unchangeable? *pleading face*

Oh, I see I’ve sparked an interest ^^; Of course I’ll talk about the best little whore in all of Japan, Baba Shigeki xp 

I joke, but like... have you seen Y5? He’s not leaving much up to interpretation, tbh : | And I love that! Baba is a really fantastic and well-executed RGG character and it’s a shame so much of fandom is sleeping on him. (I know mostly it’s that it takes people awhile to get to Y5 ^^; )

Baba occupies a really important space in the Yakuza universe, the assassin. He’s an important reminder that not Everyone in this universe is a moralistic do-gooder. People like Majima and Kiryu are in fact in the minority. Most of the yakuza are thugs, people ready and willing to hurt others and even kill. And we’ve had assassins before in Kazama and Sera, but they’re mostly out of our hand. We don’t know them too well personally. and that makes sense, they’re the previous generation, their values and choices are reflective of a different time. Our time is largely shaped by Kiryu, he is the yakuza messiah. But just because he’s king god of the criminal underworld doesn’t mean that the underworld isn’t still... y’know, dark and harsh. Especially since Kiryu renounced his throne. 

And Baba is the stark reminder of that. I had been waiting for a long time for us to come into contact with a yakuza member who didn’t fall in line when we finally got to Baba. Because, as we all like to point out, Kiryu’s version of this job is pretty rose-colored and naive. HE might be able to only fight bad people and to use his power to help others, but so few of us are in that position. Kiryu is king god, there are no challenges for him, there’s nothing stopping him, literally. So he CAN just do whatever he wants, up to and including being a good person. Most of us aren’t that lucky, just look at Majima. But even Majima, after a time, gets to be a good person and amasses enough power that he can be nice without it being a death threat. But they’re gods, legends. Your average yakuza member is some punk kid who grew up to being a punk adult who has a shitty boss to answer to and dues to pay. Sometimes there isn’t a convenient bad person to pick on. Sometimes, to save your own neck, you gotta take money from people smaller than you. Sometimes you gotta intimidate and scare people. Sometimes you gotta do unpleasant things to please the boss, to make ends meet, to hold up your end. Not all of us have the luxury of making moral choices. 

And Baba is in a worse position than most. Baba isn’t big and tough. He doesn’t have the physical might to be a brawler, so he can’t be some street thug. His options in life likely weren’t great. Probably an orphan, probably had no one to look after him. So he grew teeth fast and figured out quick that ain’t nobody gonna take care of him, he was gonna have to take care of himself. With a body and face like his, he could easily enter sex work of some kind but that job is punishing for a whole other list of reasons. And Baba’s no dummy, he’s canny, he’s strategic. No, he’s smart enough to use his body to dupe others. He knows people trust his angel face. And there’s more money and more security to be had in a job of violence than selling himself to the highest bidder and forever being at someone else’s beck and call. My bet is Baba’s plan was to make enough money as an assassin that he could retire and live out his life in peace where no one would bother him. And his training as n assassin would keep people off his back. Baba decided a long time ago it is MUCH better to be feared than loved. Can’t rely on love, can’t trust it. But fear, people listen to fear. 

So I LOVE that we finally get the perspective of someone who didn’t get any breaks in life, who wasn’t blessed with divine strength, or lucked into a special position. Baba had to struggle for everything and it made him sharp and it made him paranoid. He doesn’t like killing people, it’s not fun, but he’s so scared of what will become of himself, he can’t bear to stop. He can’t afford to make moral choices. He has to survive, above all things, he has to survive. So another assignment in a prison? Sure, why not. Get close to a guy he has to take out later? Sure, he’s done it before. He’s a great spy, a great flirt. And it makes him feel better to sneer over people too stupid to see through him. They get what they deserve if they believe his honeyed lies. He doesn’t have to mourn his actions if they deserved it. Wash his hands, move on to the next mark. 

Saejima should have been no different. And for awhile, it’s easy. Saejima’s a big dumb hunk of meat. All Baba has to do is bat his pretty eyes and look like he needs help. Piece of cake. But Saejima... is different. Oh, he’s duped, sure enough, he’s gentle and sympathetic and protective, all the things Baba needs, but... One of the reasons Baba hated his past marks so much and felt no remorse killing them, is they all wanted something from him. Every last one of them thought they could get something from him, usually his body, but sometimes not. Every one of them was a selfish piece of shit who would have used him just as surely as Baba is using them right back. But Saejima... Saejima doesn’t want anything. He doesn’t try anything. Even when Baba flirts, even when Baba offers, Saejima acts like he doesn’t understand. The fuck??? It starts to anger Baba, the way Saejima just looks at him blankly and shrugs off invitations. Who does this guy think he is, think he’s better than him? Baba will make him understand, make him want him. Still Saejima is stunned and still he seems to only respond because Baba is asking him to, not because deep down Saejima was trying to use him to. 

Baba can’t... he can’t accept that. That can’t be real. If Saejima really was just helping him because... because he likes him or something, because he’s nice... no, that’s wrong. No one’s good and no one’s nice. Everyone’s out for themselves. No one goes out of their way for each other. Because if they did... then why did no one ever help Baba before? He wraps himself in sureness that Saejima’s just stupid and his selfish instincts are really in there, they’re just slow to appear. He’s just like all the others, he’d kick Baba to the curb the same as anyone else and then... Baba doesn’t have to feel bad about killing him. Then Baba can pull the trigger and all of this will be done. 

He’s sure, without a doubt in his mind, when he feels his hands slip off Saejima on that snowmobile and he’s sent flying, his last conscious thought is that he’ll die here. He’s almost happy. Because then he’d be right. Saejima will have left him and he’d be right. And, maybe just a little, he’s happy that he won’t have to kill Saejima either. Maybe this is best. 

It is the shock of his life when Baba wakes up. He wakes up and he’s warm and indoors and there’s a fire going and weak broth and Saejima hovering over him with a spoon going “You’re awake!" Baba starts crying and Saejima assumes it’s the shock and holds him, actually fucking holds him and... Baba doesn’t think he can do this anymore. How is he supposed to kill the one person who’s ever been nice to him? How is he supposed to look Saejima in the eye and shoot him? Oh god, Saejima should have left him there to die, he should have, he should have... why is Saejima so fucking stupid, why doesn’t Saejima suspect? 

The next couple of weeks are some of the worst Baba’s ever spent. Saejima’s nicer than ever, cuddly and affectionate and warm, and Baba feels sick with guilt. See, this is why he only kills stupid people. This is why he only killed people who deserved it. He can’t... bear this. Pointing the gun at Saejima is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. But he has to, his whole life has been about this, his life above anyone else’s. If he can’t kill Saejima then... what was it all for? What had it all been about? He’s crying. He’s actually fucking crying like a little bitch and he can’t stop. It’s weak, it’s pathetic, but he just wants Saejima to take the gun out of his hand, to tell him it’s going to be okay, to take him home. Saejima screams at him and Baba falls apart. Saejima swoops in on him, holds him close, takes the gun and tells him it’s all going to be okay. It won’t... in the back of his mind, Baba knows even if he fails here, he still has half a job to do. But the fact that... everything out in the open, true colors showing, Saejima is still hugging him and refusing to let go... Baba sinks into that for a minute and believes that maybe there is something else he could do with his life. 

Oh... I have feelings about Baba Shigeki ^^; I love him to death I wouldn’t change a thing. The only thing I want is for Saejima to take Baba home and bring him into the Tojo and then we’re all a weird dysfunctional family together ^^; That’s my dream. Friends and family for Baba X3

[girlofmanyfandoms]

The Angel and The Siren

A/n: Based off of anon prompt that I’ll post separately so y’all can see that! Ily anon, that prompt was just *chef’s kiss*. Also I got a lotta stuff to do, so idk if this is good or not (it’s not)-

Word count: 2000

Warnings: idk mate, executive dysfunction kicked in and this happened

Writing taglist: @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @bookwyrminspiration @holesinmyfalseconfidence @percabetn @an-absolute-travesty  @linhamon-roll @holesinmyfalseconfidence @linhamon2 @a-lonely-tatertot @loverofallthingssmart @vibing-in-the-void @clearlykeefitz

Linh dozed off to the side before jolting back to life. Marella shot her a concerned look, but she waved it off to the side. She had to fight through this. Sophie’s lips were moving, but all she heard was the distant calls of the wind mixing with the cries of dawn. Off in the distance, she saw a flareodon glide from the forest to the ocean, it’s beak gracing the water just enough to cause a beautiful rippling effect. Yet still, the colors blended and blended together, the world nothing but a watercolor painting fading away.

“Linh!” 

“I’m alive,” she blurted out. 

“Yeah, I almost couldn’t tell,” Tam muttered, grunting as he helped her up from her near-fall. “You nearly passed out.”

“I’m fine,” Linh reassured him, putting a great deal of her weight on her brother’s shoulder. “I just... need a breath of fresh air.”

“You should probably head home,” Tam suggested, though it was obvious he was restraining himself. “I’ll update you when I get there.” 

Linh had an amused look playing on her face. “Tam, I’ll be alright, I’m just tired. I’ll take a walk and see how I feel, okay?” 

“But-”

“I’ll go with her,” Marella offered eagerly. She flushed, and began to correct herself. “Just to make sure she’s safe.” 

Linh’s face lit up and she grabbed her hand, grinning from ear to ear. Her guardian angel had arrived. “We’ll be safe!” Marella called before dragging Linh out of the house and down the porch of the vacation home.

They drew closer together, Linh examining Marella’s features in full. Oh, she was an angel alright. Her eyes held a sort of fiery determination that dared anyone to approach her, yet showed the upmost sympathy for those who struggled like her. For those who were weak and beaten down before they were strong and built up. Sunlight cascaded onto her, making her blonde locks swirl through the air like flames from a newly made campfire, warming everyone around her. Like a halo. 

Marella blushed and glanced to the side. “Is there something on my face?” Linh shook her head and leaned on her a bit, pulling her into a side hug as they approached the shoreline of the tropical island hideout. “You just have a pretty one.”

Marella scoffed. “You’re talking?”

“Yeah, I am.” Linh waded into the water, letting the tides bring her underwater, just to the point where her face was above water level, hair floating around her like thin sheets of sea foam. She sat up slowly, and started swimming farther from shore, stopping to beckon Marella. Follow me, the gesture called. The beautiful siren waited patiently, a strand of hair in her face with her head at a slight tilt making her look both shy and innocent, and sly but deadly. The angel was entranced, so she kicked off her boots and followed without hesitation.  

When Marella got close enough, Linh held her by the waist, ordering the water to surround them like walls. She pulled Marella close and guided her in a sort of slow dance, letting the tides carry them. Linh’s movement were fluid, and Marella followed her lead, trying to focus on mimicking her movements rather than her heart threatening to explode in her chest. 

Deep breaths, she thought to herself. She’s just doing this to keep Tam and the others off her back. Linh hummed, resting her forehead on Marella’s shoulder. “I wish there was something we could do about this.”

Marella panicked. She couldn’t have meant what she thought, or rather hoped, she meant. “This meaning...”

She broke their link, bobbing up and down with the waves, gesturing around her in a vague, fragmented manner. “All of this. The Neverseen, the Treaty with the other Intelligent Species, my parents, the matchmaking system. Everything. I didn’t ask for this. I just wanted to live my life, just like everyone else. But now the adults are cowards and force a group of teenagers, two of which were banished from their society for years, to save the world. I just-” She paused, her voice cracking as she looked towards the sky to blink back tears. “I just want to be a kid. Is that too much to ask?”

Even Linh, with her sweet and innocent front, was breaking. She was crushed, and broken, and in pain, and it tore Marella’s heart into pieces. “I’m so sorry. I-if you don’t mind me asking, what was that like? Like, what happened before you got banished?”

“I was a kid,” Linh smiles sadly in reminiscence. “An unhappy one, but a kid nevertheless. But when I got to Exillium... I became a monster.”

“You’re no monster.” Marella frowned. “And didn’t the group say that they feared ‘The Shade’ because he was protecting ‘The Hydrokinetic’?”

She chuckled in response. “That’s what they wanted you to think. The others were scared of Tam, definitely, but not before they were scared of me, and not for the same reason.”

Marella raised her eyebrows, daring to swim a little closer and lean on her a bit. “Care to elaborate?”

“I guess it would help to let something out.” Linh bit her lip in thought. “And... if there’s anyone I would want to tell first, it’d be you.”

She breathed for a moment, her action syncing with the swells of the ocean. “I got banished a week after the floods. We were going to Councillor Terik to see if there was any potential that would ‘save us from our fate.’ Terik said that he wanted us to meet with Quinlin and Livvy first, to view our records and check if we had any medical issues. We also had to go shopping for clothes, makeup, accessories, anything to make the two of us look different, like we were born separately. But since we both manifested relatively young, and we hadn’t gotten into Foxfire yet, we couldn’t control ourselves.”

“And that’s when the flood happened?”

“No,” she laughed. “If it were that simple, we wouldn’t have been banished. No, what happened was a combination of neglect, stress, panic, and misfortune.”

“So...”

“So something wasn’t supposed to be there, and we freaked out, and our powers crashed together and ripped the barrier open even further than it was getting.”

“It was already breaking?” Marella asked.

“It was old,” Linh shrugged, though from the way she was examining her damp clothes for lint, it was clear that the siren had told a white lie. She crossed her arms and looked down, presumably in guilt and shame, though most likely to fight off the wisps of pain and trauma that clung to her with a vengeance, like a ghost of who she once was. 

The angel was conflicted, but decided to take up her own strategy. She extended her hand. “Let’s get farther away from here. See what the jungle has to offer.”

Linh hesitantly accepted it, the walls descending slowly, soon at peace with the rest of their surroundings. A pulsing of emotions ran through her, a symphony from a past life. It confused her, but despite the vapor clouding her mind, she was able to make one clear thought.

Her hands fit perfectly in mine. Linh shook her head vigorously to clear it of those irrational ideas. She’d learned the hard way what getting close to someone cost. “What are you thinking then?”

“You said you’re stressed, right? Like you can’t be free?”

She nodded, eyes narrowing.

“Let me show you what freedom looks like.” Marella let Linh guide the two of them to shore, releasing all of the water trapped in their clothes and hair back into the environment. Doing an awkward hop to get her boots back on, she raced into the jungle, using her momentum to launch herself onto the nearest tree, managing to get her arms around the lowest branch. She swung her body up and let one arm hold her, using her other hand to aid her in letting out an ear-piercing summoning whistle. 

In a moment, the flareodon that had been circling the island landed on Marella’s arm like a hawk. Marella waved Linh over as it preened. “See? He’s free to go wherever he likes and do whatever he likes when he wants to do it; he’s got no calls of the sea binding him to a workbench and no looming duties of the hearth to dedicate his life to. And what does that make him?”

“A freelancer.”

“Free, Linh. That’s the key word. He’s free. And you will be too. You just have to have faith.”

“I wish I had that.” She sunk down against the tree opposite to hers, fiddling with a ridiculously large leaf that had fallen from a nearby plant. “And maybe there is some for you. But I’m a twin, and a previously banished one at that, and my life will be dictated by some stupid matchmaker trying to match me up with a stupid ‘powerful’ man that I’ll never love!”

The flareodon was startled by the quick escalation of her volume and took off. Marella, however, drew closer. “Is there a reason you know that you’ll never love that man?”

Quit the wishful thinking Marella! But still, her heart held hope.

“It’s based purely off of genetics,” she whispered, her voice betraying her.

“Linh, come on, I know it’s something deeper,” Marella insisted, bringing the girl to her feet. She diverted her eyes, refusing to even look up. “Answer me, please.”

“You know, you’ve got a lot of fire in your soul, Mare,” Linh murmured. “It’s admirable. But I think back and I analyze and there’s not a single thing like that about me. All I do is pretend to be an innocent little girl just to drag people down with me. There’s nothing admirable about that.”

“Hey, no one talks about my Linh like that, got it?”

My Linh? their minds screamed in unison. On one end, Marella’s cringe scorched at the edges of her mind. On the other, Linh was drowning in the overwhelming feeling she never dared to feel. Hope. Yet again, in the distance, she heard the wind throwing itself upon the raging waves. Though they weren’t raging anymore. They were systematically crashing together, a docile beat not so foreign to her combining with the whistling of the tree leaves to form the melody she longed to sing all along. Home. This is it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-”

Linh tossed her leaf to the side, standing up with newfound confidence. “You didn’t. You don’t have to apologize for anything. In fact, I should thank you.”

Marella laughed nervously. “There’s nothing to thank me for.” She looked around for a change of topic. “It’s getting late, you should head home. Tam said he’d check up on you, he’ll get worried if you’re not there.”

“Tam worries no matter what.” Linh shook it off. “And besides, I don’t want to go home alone. I like... being around you.”

“I like being around you too,” Marella flushed. She glanced to the side and picked up a fallen hibiscus that was still intact, quickly braiding it into Linh’s hair. “There. Now you can have a piece of me wherever you go.”

Linh smiled sweetly, pulling Marella’s collar towards her and pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. “I think I’d rather have all of you,” she breathed softly, before stepping back and holding her crystal up to the Sun.

“Thanks, babe!” she called, a smirk proving her pride as she stepped into the light.

Marella touched her cheek, in shock from the confession, as goosebumps travelled up her arms. Her other hand frantically searched her pockets for her leaping crystal. Biting her lip, she glanced to the side, having to squint as the sun began its journey to the other side of the world. Surely the crew wouldn’t mind if she slipped away too. Besides, there was something more important. The siren called. 

[greengay]

Thank you for being one of the only blogs to talk about rpf 🧡 I like it a lot, but I feel like it’s become taboo to mention it? I don’t post about it because I’m worried people will think I’m weird

LOL JUST DOIN’ MY PART....

TBH!!! sooooo many people feel like you do LOL like, a lot of people enjoy it and know it’s harmless and SO MANY PEOPLE follow my nsfw gd blog (sorry for not answering the asks yet......executive dysfunction....)

1) i don’t care about followers or whatever, i am just here to scream into the void and if people tune in, cool

2) YA it’s become taboo moreso recently because I think fan culture has gotten.....younger? because of people being able to access the internet easier? like back in the day, you used to have to either have a computer or log onto the family computer IF you were allowed, so fandoms skewed older? like at least 15+....now 9 years old all have iphones and can access fan communities etc. which is....terrifying tbh.

BUT! with that, i think especially with l*rry and r*den and ph*n (disregarding if the relationships were real or not) younger people don’t understand boundaries as well and can’t really comprehend the fact that the people they’re reading fic about AREN’T the same people that they’re tweeting/commenting on ig posts of.......i mean they are, but i think it’s pretty much understood that in fic.....none of these things have actually happened. it’s just taking a daydream about a hot celeb and writing it out, or it’s using gerard way’s face + likeness + personality traits gleaned from on stage/interviews and creating a character based on that.

3) ALSO. celebs/musicians/etc. have gotten 1000x more accessible? AGAIN, with ryden.....back in the day it would stay on livejournal or tumblr and ryan and brendon (i know he’s cancelled or w/e but i think ryden is the best example) wouldn’t be exposed to it unless they actively sought it out (except for the crazy fans that would wait for them in airports LOL but that was v few and far between). but then. instagram and twitter became WAY more popular and suddenly fans could access the love of their life any time they wanted!!!! and why not use that access to confirm/get more “lore” about their favorite ship? /s which kinda related to point #2 bc it was mostly young people doing this.

now if you see frank iero MENTION gerard way the twitter replies will be FILLED with “frerard” 😬 and 1) if you do believe they had something (i believe they DID....not currently tho) it obviously wasn’t public, so why not respect their privacy lol. not to mention that it’s in the PAST and we don’t know if it was a painful split (frank was HEARTBROKEN after mcr broke up and would shit talk gerard in interviews lol so) its best to assume it was and NOT bring it up to hurt him more and 2) it affects their real life relationship at this point!

there’s a difference between knowing something is out there and being tagged in it/having it shoved in your face. for the most part, bands have never cared abt ships and actually would tease them a little cos they knew it would “sell” the band better and excite fans and show that they aren’t like......abt to go into a gay panic bc someone thought they were fucking their friend.

THIS IS ANOTHER ESSAY/RANT ENTIRELY, but i think band rpf is a safe and healthy way to explore sexuality + emotions if you are too scared/traumatized/whatever to go out and try everything you ever imagined. especially if you are afab and you want to have sex with men. it’s scary out there!

like. real men might be assholes and take advantage of me and could hurt me. but projecting onto billie and mike is completely safe, especially because i’m so far removed from it. there’s also like....this is fake deep, but whatever....the aspect of exploring Queerness in a safe way? like in fics that aren’t just smut. LIKE 12-17 year old me reading NOTHING but m/m fic with some f/f thrown in there and still thinking i was straight LOL. and it just being....completely normalized for me until i was comfortable enough to admit that i was bisexual to myself? IDK IF Y’ALL KNOW THE COMPARTMENTILIZATION PEOPLE THAT GROW UP IN VAGUELY CONSERVATIVE AREAS WITH NO REPRESENTATION GO THROUGH. i would LITERALLY stare at my friends (who were girls) lips and think about kissing them and just be like....HM! THAT WAS WEIRD! LET’S NEVER ADDRESS THAT INTERNALLY.

you can argue that there’s an aspect of fetishization, but i think the concept of celebrity & stan culture is fetishization in and of itself. like.

Fetishization refers to a process of imbuing an object or idea with power. A fetish object is often associated with sexual gratification, desire, and worship. Fetishization marks a cultural, psychological, and social technique of fetishizing things by making them appear larger than life, animate, or sexually desirable (→ Sexualization in the Media). It is argued that this process has profoundly influenced contemporary consumer culture (Fernbach 2002; Jhally 1987; Schroeder 2002). (x)

like if you even vaguely idolize a celeb/put a celeb on a pedestal or reblog a text post about them........that’s fetishization, babey! you don’t ACTUALLY know them!!!! they’re just.....some guy! billie joe is just.....some guy who’s really good at writing songs. he’s actually kinda ugly but we all find him attractive and go 😍 over his traditionally unattractive features cos he is talented and famous. if he was some dude at your gas station you would NOT be posting abt him on instagram.

but because i love and respect him i think he is beautiful 💖 and the only reason i can “love” someone i don’t know is celeb worship culture.

and the people who compare girls liking m/m fic to LESBIAN PORN. LOL. i think that’s so deeply insidious that, again, it’s another post. ACTUALLY i think i’ve already posted abt it waaaaay back.

omg i’m sorry this turned out so long...

[in-sempiternam]

A Inquisition Mini Series Pt4

ADMINISTRATION NOTE: THIS IS NOT PROMOTIONIAL OR RECRUITMENT MATERIAL. DO NOT SEND APPLICATIONS. WE WILL FIND YOU, IF WE NEED YOU.

!VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED!

_________________________________________

Baoh: “Crap, I forgot to ask Inquisitor Mortiferus what his common name is... Anyway, we’ve been descending deeper into the Headquarter Catacombs, and what can I say - it smells awful down here. We call this part of the Headquarters the Slaughterhouse, and if you look behind me, you might get a bit of an idea why. Thankfully it’s pretty dark here and you can’t smell through the screen, because this sight and stench is not for the faint hearted and- ... Oh! It seems someone dropped a hand. *chuckles* It looks like it is reaching out to us. Hold on, I’ll just quickly pick it up and drop it in the disposal later. But now let’s go see what Karamazov is doing.”

_________________________________________

Baoh: “Alright, here he is, the uncompromising, stern and unwavering, everyobody’s darling: Inquisitor Indomitus. Yeah, I know you thirsty bitches. He’s a bit too cute looking for my taste, but I get it. And it should be illegal for Inquisitors to be that attractive. Though I guess you don’t care about that anymore, when he dips your hands in hotsauce, fries them and nibbles them off your arms... buuut, whatever floats your goat...” Karamazov: “Inquisitor Hostilian, what is your babbling over there?” Baoh: “(ooop, did I say all that out loud?) Uhm... nothing of importance, Inquisitor Indomitus. I’m just making a little tour through the Headquarters, showing my viewers what we’re doing here.” Karamazov: “Your viewers? What the- never mind. Did the Administration approve of the filming?” Baoh: “Well, the Head Inquisitor didn’t exactly prohibit it...” Karamazov: “... ... ... ... ...” Karamazov: “You know what? Whatever. I’m pretty busy here, and don’t have time to be concerned about that... so if you don’t mind...” Baoh: “Oh, of course, we won’t bother you. Okay guys, it looks like Inquisitor Indomitus is just taking care of some deathrow convicts, that are to be executed today. Right now behind us, there is one slowly bleeding out into a bucket.  Is he still alive, Inquisitor, or are those just the last muscle spasms?” Karamazov: “Still alive and conscious.” *****************sound of engine starting***************** Baoh: “Uuuuhhhh! We’re lucky, guys - another convict gets the Meat Grinder!” *******************meat grinder roaring ******************* *********************convict screaming*********************

_________________________________________ 

Karamazov: “Inquisitor Hostilian, I need your help here for a moment.” Baoh: “Certainly! What can I do for you?” Convict: *screaming* Karamazov: “Something got stuck in the Meat Grinder and is blocking the cutters. I need you to pull it out.” Baoh: “Come again?” Convict: *more screaming* Karamazov: “I need you to pull out whatever is blocking the Grinder.” (and don’t come at me with DuH tHe CoNvIcT iS iN tHeRe)” Baoh: “You want me to put my hand into the Meat Grinder, that will continue grinding as soon as whatever is blocking it is loose?” Karamazov: “Yes.” Baoh: “...” Karamazov: “...” Baoh: “Oh, you’re [REDACTED] serious?” Convict: *still screaming* Baoh: “Will you shut the hell up! Urgh. (I’m not getting paid enough for this)” Baoh: *reaching into the Meat Grinder, wiggling on a piece of metal* Meat Grinder: *screetching* Baoh: *squeaking* Convict: *screaming* Meat Grinder: *roaring* Baoh: “My hand!” Karamazov: “Your hand is fine!” Baoh: “Well, certainly not thanks to you, though!” Karamazov: “You should be more worried about your face!” Baoh: “WHAT?!”

_________________________________________ 

Baoh: *wiping his face with a towel* “Well, that was... something. Usually the Meat Grinder is not so dysfunctional. I hope?!” Karamazov: “Hmm... so - so. Some days it runs really smooth, other days it gets a bit ugly. Can’t really find someone to repair it.” Baoh: “Well, today surely was one of the days when it gets a ‘bit’ ugly. Please tell us, Inquisitor, what does a person have to do, to end up in the Meat Grinder.” Karamazov: “There can be quite a few reasons, but in general it’s crimes against humanity and human rights. This scum here was involved in human trafficking and illegal slave trades for all kinds of... ‘desires’.” Baoh: “You guys out there can’t see it (and it’s for the better, really) but  the convict is actually still alive. He’s been put in feet first and so far only his lower legs have been through the grinders. Inquisitor, how do you proceed from here on?” Karamazov: “For the moment he’s unconscious, which is normal. I will wait, until he wakes up again, and then continue. Slowly. Until he passes out again. The Meat Grinder is designed in a way, that keeps the blood loss on a minimum, so this can actually take up to 3 days, before they are mortally wounded.” Baoh: “Very interesting. And gruesome. Thank you very much for giving us a bit of an insight in your tremendously creative work. Do you maybe have some advice for the people out there?” Karamazov: “Yes. Don’t put your hands in a Meat Grinder. Not only is it dangerous, but also extremely stupid. (can’t believe you really did that)” Baoh: “... ... ... ... ... ... (I swear to fucking god, Karamazov) ... ... ... ... ... ...”  Karamazov: “Also, stay away from drugs and alcohol. They are just not good.  (I know what I’m talking about...)” Baoh: “You heard it, guys. And that’s the end of our little tour through the Inquisitorial Headquarters. I’ll be back with another  project, so see you next time!”

_________________________________________

[Part 1]  [Part 2]   [Part 3]

[doroyamz]

Love in Accra

The road looked like it was sweating.

Rain. Heavy rain. The rush hour traffic on the 37 Military Hospital Road had come to a standstill. The downpour, from nowhere, was a welcome distraction for Tony. Last night’s encounter with his wife, Alicia, still all too fresh in his mind.

Cars were barely moving along on in the ever-rising storm.

He felt a movement on his right thigh but was too preoccupied with his thoughts to give it any attention. Esi by this time was growing restless, tired of Tony’s now constant rebuffing of her advances. Last night, and for many nights in the past month, he was totally limp when she unzipped him, a far cry from the throbbing pistol that had thrilled her to no end when they first began their countless rendezvous.

In those early days, they were lust personified. Crazed and addicted to each other beyond reason. Their constant need to feel each other’s skin had a near cataclysmic pull on them and their respective worlds. Alicia got pregnant in those early days, an event Tony privately regarded as a spillover from being with his now long-standing mistress. Esi’s marriage was virtually in the gutter. She often showed up at home disheveled and night after night, retired to her marriage bed wearing a satisfying post-coital daze on her face. Her husband, would just watch her. Mute and completely emasculated.

But now her once insatiable incubus was limp to her touch. She could not understand it.

xxx

Alicia had found the video on his phone.

Tony’s entire world came to a screeching halt. His throat was so dry, he wasn’t sure if he had one anymore. He stood paralyzed; the phone screen thrust in his face. Cocked his head at an angle as if in disbelief at the two actors in the tiny screen.

The man in the screen was bald, tall and dark and looked very much like him. He stood at about 6”3 with an NBA player’s build and had the beard to match. The male actor was indubitably approaching climax and his voluptuous female understudy, on cue, fiercely gripped onto dear life – which in that moment, was her male lead.

The ochre-skinned woman in the screen was of the finest fettle. Folasade was a full-blooded Nigerian but her unapologetic curves screamed South Africa. She looked like a Marvel comic heroine brought to life.

Fola and Tony met at a seminar for West African business executives at the Kempinski Hotel, a few months after his wedding. Fola was leading a breakout panel session which Tony sat in on, intoxicated by her form and presence. The two had exchanged steamy glances all day long, making no attempt to restrain their mutual intentions for each other when the conference ended.

Tony could never get enough of Fola and in Tony, Fola had found a man who could satisfy her every whim. They could go for months on end without so much as a text message to each other. But whenever contact was made, their respective schedules were cleared until further notice. They were fully aware that their combined desire was a vast black hole with the potential to consume them, so they took conscious steps to maintain some modicum of balance in their meeting arrangements.

The night the fated video was shot, Fola was headed for a month-long business trip in Morocco. They had arranged to meet at her private office on Volta Street in the Airport Residential Area.

Fola’s suggestion to record themselves as a temporary parting memento was inexplicable to Tony. Her claim that it would be something that would hold her while she was away, seemed puzzling to him. Her feigned desperation, even more perplexing.

Tony was completely against the idea of recording their liaison. Remonstrating over and over again about how technology and affairs of love should never cross. Fola ogled him for a while, offered tiny chuckles as he groped her every now and then during his rant.

Tony became so engrossed in his personal deliberations that he missed her slip into the bathroom. When he finally took a moment to break from his monologue, he was out of breath and had worked up a sweat. The man felt he just needed to wash away all traces of that unholy proposal.

Once on the other side of the bathroom door, Tony became Pavlov’s Dog.

That was over a year ago and Fola still hadn’t returned from her trip.

His mind slowly drifted back to the screen. The soft moans and cries. The sound of skin on skin rhythmically playing from the Samsung phone speakers.

He didn’t feel shame. He didn’t feel regret. He heard Alicia’s cries, felt her pain slide across his skin. He just stood there. Numb.

xxx

“We have asked around about Tony…Alicia…for your sake, for your parents’ sake, for all our sakes…please…do not marry this man.”

One of the many admonitions Alicia fielded from her aunts and cousins after announcing Tony’s marriage proposal at her younger sister’s festive birthday party.

In the ensuing weeks after her announcement, the family matriarchs conducted an extensive background check to gather as much intel as they could on her suitor. From what Alicia’s mum told her the matriarchs searched far and wide, even unearthing some very unsavory stories about Tony’s maternal grandfather in Mampong, a township in the Ashanti region.

The women came back with a most damning report on Alicia’s debonair Asante. Alicia, however, was defiant and unmoved by their findings.

She stood up to address the mini-assembly.

“Each woman here knows how highly I value them. You have all shaped me, guided me and helped me become the woman I am today,” she said in a restrained voice.

“But with all respect, none of you know Tony like I do. You don’t know what I see in him, his potential. The depths of emotion I have felt in the time I’ve gotten to know him. None of you can know that. He’s not perfect, Lord I know he’s far from it, but I know he’s the one for me. Nothing you say or do can make me feel differently.”

She loved Tony deeply. She had never believed she was capable of loving a man, let alone marrying one, after all the damage she had seen men wreak in and around her life. And Tony had flaws, many serious ones, but he had a certain light to him and he had showed her honesty and a vulnerability she had never known men to possess.

Deep down, she believed she could change him, iron out his weaknesses and over time drive out his especially troubling womanizing habit. She knew he liked women and on countless occasions, with her own eyes, she noticed the magnetizing effect he had on them. Alicia also believed some of his troubles with women lay in the fact that he was a true empath. That he, unfortunately, had never learned to draw boundaries to his empathy which inadvertently led to his many ‘situationships.’ 

“I won’t lie Alicia. I know I have a woman problem. It’s like an addiction. The intimacy, the need to connect, the sex.” They were having lunch at the Hinlone Chinese Restaurant in Labone. The night before, as they lay in bed, Tony had told he loved her for the first time. Alicia simply smiled at his declaration, electing to play it cool although inwardly, she was beside herself with joy.

Flashes from the video.

The woman’s legs splayed. Tony’s thrusts. The glistening sheen of sweat.

“But I swear to you, most of my things with these women often start out because I pity them or I want to help them in some way…along the line, things just get muddled up and…I lose my way...”

The woman crying out in throes of pleasure.

Her mind was a broken dam. Thoughts, memories and conversations flooded her head and receded at their own leisure.

She wondered why these memories and conversations were coming up at this time. The video was still a freshly opened gash, one she had already accepted was going to be a large and permanent scar. But for the other flashbacks, she questioned their relevance to her current predicament.

He was always a monster. Why was I pretending all this time that he wasn’t? Who was I kidding?

The video was the bomb but Tony’s desensitized demeanor and harrowing forced confessions were the firestorm. She knew there was so much more he would have confessed to if she had had any more emotional stamina during her five-hour interrogation of the stranger she called her husband. She had been beyond foolish.

Time had lost its meaning. She had spent three days huddled in the corner of their bedroom tormented by her broken heart and mind.

Alicia just wanted to disappear.

xxx

One week and seventy-seven unanswered calls had passed since the explosive encounter. Tony wasn’t sure if Alicia was alive.

He was parked outside the Total House Clinic in Adabraka on a Saturday morning. Completely engrossed in his thoughts and yearning for divine intervention to offer him some guidance. Since his exposé, his mind had been in a fog that thickened with each passing day. The only silver lining were the test results from his urologist. Tony’s recent erectile issues were deemed a stress response and his dysfunction persisted due to a lack of proper rest. He needed to relax.

His wife was even more inaccessible now than she’d been during the miscarriage. For Tony, the miscarriage was a living hell made more intolerable by how suicidal Alicia had been. He was disappointed to have lost the baby especially after how hard they’d tried over the years but a small and, perhaps, darker part of him felt relieved. He didn’t think it was right to have conceived a child with his wife barely an hour after stealing sordid moments with another woman. A woman he met through his wife. In his mind, it was perhaps the universe’s way of warning him that he had gone too far this time. He would never have been able to look at that child without seeing Esi in his mind’s eye.

This time though, he had overstepped the good faith that the universe seemed to constantly extend to him. He knew his credit line with the powers-that-be was now in the red and would stay there indefinitely. His latest debt, while not his most damning by a long shot, was irredeemable. He had nowhere to hide. There were no more lies he could spin around Alicia.

But he needed her. He couldn’t lose his North Star. She was the only thing that prevented his chaotic nature from engulfing him or so he thought. Surely, after all these years she knew what she was signing on for. Why was she so surprised? That video was nothing compared to the numerous other unspeakables he’d committed over the course of their marriage. Of all the things to do him in, it had to be a twenty-minute porno. What a sick joke.

In a bloodrush, he let out a hollow scream. His mind was drowning in haphazard thoughts.

“What have I done? God what have I done?” he blurted out repeatedly at his steering wheel, as he fought to hold back tears.

“Why? Why now? Why did it happen like this?” he plaintively questioned.

No answer.

Deflated and resigned, he took out his work phone and called the only person who would always welcome him with open arms and accept him for the depraved and gluttonous animal he was.

xxx

Incense burned as Jill Scott’s ‘He Loves Me’ played softly from the soundbar. The room had been steamed to perfection.

The Executive Suite at the La Beach Hotel was their favourite love nest. Any sexual fantasy - from orgies to swing parties - either party happened to be in the mood for or could imagine, this was the room that staged its enactment.

Tonight it was just the two of them.

The toned, dark-skinned Ga woman on the bed was in her early seventies but inexplicably did not look a day past twenty. Tightly twisted Senegalese crochet braids, flowed magnificently from her scalp to her dainty waist. Her oval-shaped face remained flawless as did her soft, wrinkle-free skin. How she managed to defy time with her looks and poise was a much pondered upon mystery to all who knew her.

Dede was naked underneath a black, sparkling see-through gown. Her shea-butter glistened body glowed through the gown. A wet, willing and wanting goddess. Ready to be ravaged by her young midnight warrior. She rose to sit on her knees, directing her eyes to her nude captor’s crotch. She rendered a wry smile.

The warrior was flat-out flaccid.

“Mm,” she remarked, as she beckoned him to draw closer.

“Looks like our little man needs a little something before he comes out to play eh?” she teased in playful Ga.

He smirked as he approached her, only stopping when his groin and her face were level.

The mind-fog was still present but he closed his eyes as he begun to feel the slow and perfectly measured licking sensations in his nether region. Dede was always masterful with the things she could do with her mouth. Two lifetimes worth of experience to draw from.

Two minutes passed but Tony’s situation did not improve.

She paused to look up at Tony, “Is something the matter? You usually perk up for me with no effort. Have I done something wrong?”

“No…it’s not you love…,” he paused, longer than he’d intended.

“Just been under a lot of stress lately,” he sighed as he pulled away. He turned his back on the regal woman to look around the room for his clothes.

Dede wasn’t buying it. His tone. That pause. Something was definitely up. She had never known her beast to act or sound so tame in all the years she’d known him, not even during his grooming period.

“But you’re even more marvelous when you’re stressed…or have you forgotten Abidjan?” she asked, biting her lip.

He shrugged at her retort.

Tony was troubled by his recurring limpness.

xxx

Esi’s heart froze when she saw the Caller ID on her phone screen.

Alicia.

Why would Alicia be calling her? For what reason? Was it about Tony? Had she found out about them?

The phone was still ringing but Esi just stared at her mobile. A million worst-case scenarios flying around in her mind each time her ringtone looped over.

She decided she would not answer the call.

It’d been over eight months since they last spoke and the distance that had grown between them suited Esi, considering the increased frequency of her liaisons with Tony in those months. After years of clandestine maneuvers, she felt she was finally closing in on Alicia’s husband.

Both women had known each other from childhood. Esi even witnessed Alicia’s declaration of Tony’s marriage proposal.

The announcement was a mild shock for her at first but she remembered feeling something resembling happiness for her longtime friend. Alicia had found a man who could actually hold her attention. He had to be special. She’d seen Alicia turn down the most desirable of bachelors - a few of whom Esi herself subsequently sampled extensively - on countless occasions.

In her quiet moments, she sometimes wondered why her then soon-to-be-engaged friend seemed to routinely attract men of a higher caliber without even trying, while she often had to go above and beyond to pull a semi-decent man. She felt she was equally as - if not more - attractive than Alicia and just as accomplished professionally but somehow, she always seemed to come out second-best to her childhood friend when it mattered. These thoughts irked Esi more than she cared to admit to herself.

Alicia mirthfully introduced her old friend and soon-to-be-husband to each other a few days after her announcement.

Their eyes locked for a brief but intense moment during the exchange of pleasantries.

xxx

Nyarko Abronoma could not look at the man she called her son.

She was disgusted.

Why were the men in her family such cancers?

To the uninitiated, her family’s men were walking gods. Dazzling men who could bend the wills and desires of the staunchest hearts. They were gifted manipulators and they used their power to wreak havoc. Their preferred targets, were often women of high standing and character. They swarmed on these women like bees to honey. Once ensnared, their targets were mentally and emotionally stretched and bent beyond their limits, enduring relentless acts of gross disrespect and shame on account of these bedeviled men. And in no time, the prey merely became a shell of their former selves.

Nyarko, at the age of nine, saw her mother gradually lose her mind. A year later, a young Nyarko watched on as her mother was lowered into an unmarked grave. Both events, her father’s handiwork.

Her mother used to say that the men of Nyarko’s lineage were descendants of the fallen angels from the Book of Genesis. The Nephilim.

Even in her womb, she already knew Tony was one of them. Throughout her pregnancy, Nyarko prayed, fasted, sought the counsel of several spiritual leaders to save her unborn child. She desperately wanted her son to chart a different path than the men before him.

Tony didn’t know how to break the silence between them.

His mother had always been his trump card whenever things between him and Alicia were coming to a head. This time around though he was seeking his mother’s intervention as a Hail Mary. He knew she admired and loved Alicia. She would probably have traded her for him as her child if she had her way.

He told her what had happened, leaving out a few details.

Nyarko knew her son hadn’t told her everything.

She raised her head to observe her son. A beautiful boy with a Machiavellian heart. He was a poisoned chalice like his predecessors.

Tony looked away, uncomfortable with her soul-piercing stare.

“I can’t help you and I won’t,” she said in Twi.

He was stunned.

“I won’t let you drive that poor woman to the grave. If I help you, you are only going to repeat what your grandfather put my mother through and what my brothers did to their wives. Alicia is too much of a good woman for that. Too much. She deserves better. This time you have been exposed for all to see and we both know there are countless more lies and secrets behind those scheming eyes of yours!”

Tony’s throat tightened. He hadn’t anticipated this tirade from the old woman.

“You think I don’t know about you? The things you scurry around town doing like a possessed rat? I weep for Alicia everyday. I always pray to God to give her strength in dealing with you. You have no shame. Even during your wife’s miscarriage you had no decency, no respect for her, not an ounce of self-control. Hiding in and out of Accra with your concubines.”

Nyarko spat at her son’s feet.

“If anything should happen to Alicia, it will be on your head and I pray you pay for it.”

xxx

Three weeks and still no word from Tony.

Alicia’s call coupled with Tony’s prolonged radio silence led Esi to assume the worst.

She was driving back into Accra, via the Accra-Tema Motorway, after wrapping up a meeting in Tema's harbour area. Hawkers streamed along either side of her car, as she neared one of the highway's three toll booths.

Esi's mind was spinning. Everything seemed to be falling apart. Had she been stupid? Why couldn’t she be allowed to have her own slice of heaven? Was it a crime to want to be loved? She didn’t mean Alicia any harm but the connection between her and Tony was unavoidable.

Why was Tony all of a sudden ignoring her? Why weren’t they making love anymore? She knew  he had a harem of ‘playmates’ he could call on but he always came back to her. Was he over her? Had somebody else taken her place?

Too many questions with no answers. She wracked her brain to think of a solution, a way out through all the madness.

Dede. The Madame. The old woman would probably know something. She and Tony were close, a little too close for Esi’s liking. But Esi figured that a woman at that age didn’t have that long to live, no matter how well she kept herself or how many boys she gobbled up, so Esi was fine with their relationship. Besides she was on good terms with Dede, the three had had some raunchy episodes through the years.

Esi called Dede and inquired about Tony.

“I last saw him about a week ago but I haven’t heard from him since then,” Dede stated.

More worry for Esi. He had gone to see Dede but had not even bothered to call her for three weeks? What was going on with him? Was he over her? She knew Dede had some skills but the old witch had enough boy toys to keep her satisfied.

Dede hummed an Erykah Badu tune. Esi forgot she was still on the line.

“Thank you Dede. I’ll give him a buzz again.”

“Dear girl, hold on for a second please.”

Esi was caught off guard by The Madame’s request. Outside of their fervid love-ins, Dede was typically brisk and forthright with her.

“Have you noticed anything…strange about Tony lately?” Dede asked, an almost mischievous lilt in her slivery voice.

“Strange? What do you mean?” a puzzled Esi asked.

“His performance, has it changed in any noticeable way?” The Madame was sipping on something in the background.

“Oh Dede…,” Esi responded bashfully.

“My girl let’s not beat around the bush. Is anything different or not?”

The sudden firmness in The Madame’s voice unsettled Esi.

“W-Well…recently he doesn’t respond to my touch. You know…,” she didn’t know why she was so shy in speaking to Dede about her sexual affairs with Tony. She had seen the woman on all fours.

Static on the phone.

“He can’t get it up,” Esi muttered feebly.

“Mm..I see. Thank you Esi, that’s all I needed to know. Best of luck reaching him.”

The line cut.

Why would Dede ask that? Was she experiencing the same issues she’d been having with Tony?

The suspicion that had been floating in Esi’s mind for the past few weeks was too absurd to now consider an actual possibility. It was impossible for that to happen to Tony, he was too red-blooded, way too potent for that.

It couldn’t be.

No...no..not Tony...

Tony couldn’t be…?

No!

It isn’t possible. Tony couldn’t be impotent. The mere thought alone was utterly absurd.

But how else could she explain his sudden limpness? Plus Dede would never have asked that question if she hadn’t noti---

Esi fatally rear-ended her Nissan Qashqai into a heavy cargo truck.

xxx

Their luxury three-bedroom apartment home on Second Circular Road, Cantonments, was a stone throw away from the U.S. Embassy. It was a $600,000 property that Tony had astoundingly managed to wind down to a sale price just short of a $100,000. Alicia used to call him ‘Puppet Master T,’ for his uncanny ability to always get what he wanted.

Tony lingered outside the apartment door for nearly half an hour. He was jittery.

A flurry of deep and quick deep breaths filled his lungs as he steeled himself and turned the doorknob.

The apartment felt hostile as if it despised his presence.

His sweep around his marriage home confirmed Alicia had packed up, that much was clear. Their bedroom was half empty, with no trace of his wife left in the room. Alicia was gone and she was gone for good.

A small stack of papers was neatly arranged on the bed. Divorce papers and a small sheet with a number to call when he was done signing. That was Alicia, methodical and precise, even in the worst of circumstances.

Tony sat on the bed, staring at the divorce papers.

He wanted to call Alicia but thought better of it. She’d probably blocked him on all platforms. When his wife didn’t want to be found, she did it well.

The die was cast. There were no more moves he could play.

Something vibrated under his left thigh, briefly snapping him out of his self-pity. He shifted his weight to find the smoking gun that had ended everything.

Tony unlocked the phone to find a freeze-frame shot of a busty Fola in a most compromising position. Alicia must have watched the video countless times, trying to make sense of it all. Her soon-to-be ex-husband zoomed out of the video application to the notification center.

Ato, his closest friend and fellow degenerate, had just sent him series of confusing text messages.

The first message read: “Bro...I have been trying to reach you.” Tony checked his call log to indeed find several missed calls from his main man.

Second message: “I don’t know if you’ve heard already.”

Third: “Bro…I’m so so sorry about Esi...I can’t imagine what you’re feeling. I’m so sorry bro. Please call me if you need me. I’m here for you…”

xxx

Marijuana smoke filled the air of the love nest.

Tony’s head lay buried in Dede’s bosom. He was silent, as Dede gently stroked his head and offered hushed words of consolation.

She drew a few more puffs from her joint and moved it down to Tony’s lips but her wounded warrior declined.

They stayed silent for a lengthy period of time as Dede spaced out from the weed.

Memories of a lifetime���s worth of sexual dissipation with her favorite boy streamed across her mind. Despite her wanton admiration for his sexual prowess, she had grown to develop an affection for her former protégé over the years.

The Madame, as Dede was referred to by Accra’s high society, had known Tony since he was fourteen. Even as a sprightly teenage boy - and much to her pleasant surprise - he oozed raw potential with his savage-like lovemaking abilities. By seventeen, the boy could do things she had never known men to be capable of. He had a frightening and near bottomless appetite that bordered on the frenetic, that even her infamous grooming techniques couldn’t temper.

She shed an unseen tear for her paramour’s wasted manhood. To be completely robbed of his virility in his prime was a cruel blow from the gods.

Dede nonchalantly crushed the end of the burnt-out joint into an ashtray on the bedside table.

“It’s a pity but it seems I have no use for you anymore, my dear,” she said sofly.

Tony was still, his eyes shut. It was what he expected from his Madame.

“There’s a young French couple coming by shortly. Quite the adventurous duo. It’s a shame you wouldn’t be joining us,” she sighed airily.

“A shame,” he whispered.

She started running rings around his lips.

“You’re of course welcome to stay and watch if you please my love,” she said somewhat coyly.

Tony slowly reached for her moving hand and kissed it.

He rose from his resting place, stretched to his full height, and promptly made his way to the door without looking back.

“Tony..,” he heard Dede call out before he shut the door.

Two spirited European-looking girls gaily passed him in the lobby hallway.

As he stepped onto the elevator, the vivacious couple turned around to take in the view of the brooding stud exiting the floor.

xxx

Tony hopped over the fence that separated the La Beach Hotel premises from the beach.

It was a little past midnight and the cool and salty breeze of the sea, soothed Tony’s mood. The mind-fog was clearing up. Whether the fog’s retreat was a result of the second-hand smoke from the weed or the effect of the beach, he wasn’t sure but he was grateful.

It was a moonless, starless sky. The ocean’s waves roared gently, calling to him. He had been here before, in another life perhaps.

He took in the scene before him one last time and smiled. All was fair.

Tony took the first steps towards his death.

xxx

[cole-grey-writes]

Kiss Me Better

Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Timeline: Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier

Character(s): Sam Wilson

Pairing(s): Sam Wilson x Male Reader

Warning(s): swearing, completely inaccurate medical procedures because im not a doctor and 16 y/o

Summary: You were injured on a mission and in order to stave off infection, you have to get a shot...

OLD A/n from over a month ago: I got shots at the doctors probably a week ago (and I'm just now finishing this because frickin executive dysfunction kicked my ass). I don't have a bf/gf in real life to kiss me better, but I can always pretend with fanfiction. Enjoy

NEW A/n from right now: shit it’s been a long time huh? yeah, this was supposed to be uploaded over a month ago but for some reason I just... didn’t put it up. Idk, I think I was going through some shit so I wasn’t interested in anything at all and I was super unmotivated. Anyway, I finally got it up. Hope you all enjoy :)

“Sam!” you say his name with joy. The pain coursing through out your body isn’t enough to keep you from throwing your arms around your boyfriend as soon as he’s close enough to where you sit on the plain white bed in the SHIELD medbay.

You wrap your arms around him and squeeze as hard as you can without causing pain to shoot up your arms from your injuries. Sam returns the favor and hugs you close to his chest. You can’t help but wince when he unknowingly presses into a large bruise stretching across your stomach, but you don’t want the hug to end so you try to hide it. Sam obviously sees right through you and let’s go, although he doesn’t stop touching you. Sam’s hands rest on your arms gently, trying not to press on the bruises and cuts that are covered in bandages.

“Don’t ‘Sam’ me. You are an absolute moron,” Sam tells you, pointing a finger. Your mouth falls open in offense and try to say something but he interrupts you. “Did you think jumping in the line of fire was really your only option?”

“...Well, it seemed like the only option at the time.”

“Jesus,” Sam swears. “You are just as bad as Steve.”

“I am not nearly–”

“Don’t you dare try to deny it,” he tells you. He reaches up with his hand and shuts your mouth for you. “You know it's true,” Sam says it without judgement, like he knows how much people’s lives mean to you.

“Agent L/n,” SHIELD Doctor Vivienne Becker is suddenly standing next to you. She addresses you with a comfort as if talking with an old friend. Or maybe with exasperation of talking to an annoying younger sibling.

“Vivienne,” you greet back with a much lighter tone than her. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Dr. Becker says, “but you're covered in contusions, lacerations, and just had two bullets removed from your femur and scapula.”

You tense when you feel Sam shift next to you, feeling his gaze on the side of your face. You aren’t even looking at him and you just know that his eyebrows are raised in scorn. “Oh, so you were shot, too?”

“Uh.”

“Fortunately, there was no damage done to any vital organs or major arteries.”

“Well, at least that,” Sam mumbles.

“However,” Dr. Becker interrupts pointedly, “there was foreign residues found on the bullets that were designed to attract special bacteria.”

You sigh. “And now it’s in my blood.”

“Correct and we’ve figured out how to neutralize the effects, but…”

“‘But’?” you wonder, whining. “‘But’? No, why ‘but’, Vivienne?”

“But,” Dr. Becker continues, “the treatment is in the form of a syringe.”

You suddenly sit up straight. “A shot?!” you scream, eyes going wide.

“A shot?” Sam wonders completely cluelessly. “What’s wrong with a shot?”

“It is one shot and it will be injected into your right shoulder,” Dr. Becker informs you before walking away to let you wallow in self pity.

You groan and throw your head back because fucking goddamn it, this would be your luck. A shot right when you get back off the field.

“What’s wrong with a shot?” Sam wonders again. You sigh heavily and took at Sam with your eyebrows raised. He looks at you blankly for a few seconds before he breaks out into a smile. Sam aws at you, causing you to purse your lips. “Are you afraid of shots, baby?”

You click your tongue and say, “Sam,” while growing more annoyed with his sugar sweet smile.

You ignore him (whether it’s because you love him or because you have no idea how to respond to his question, you don’t know), deciding instead to work out some stress by looking at anything other than the needles that seemed to be everywhere you look now.

Sam actually has to reach over and stop you from wringing your hands dry. “Come one now, baby,” he untangles your hands and intertwines one of yours with his. You aren’t able to help just melting under his smooth and caring voice. “It’s just one shot, it won’t be that bad.”

You hum doubtfully, squinting your eyes at him but squeeze his hand harder. “I hate shots,” Sam nods understandingly. “Shots suck. Shots can go fuck–”

You don’t get a chance to finish your rant because Dr. Becker walks back over to you and wonders, “Are you ready?”

Taking a deep breath and releasing it, you squeeze Sam’s hand to reassure yourself. “I suppose,” Dr. Becker doesn’t say anything, turning to grab the syringe. You bite your lip to steal yourself.

“Hey,” Sam says softly. You look at him and he shows you your interlocked hands. “Here, you can squeeze my hand to help you through it.”

“You sure?” You crack a smile, feigning hesitation. “I might break your hand.”

Sam hums dismissively. “I’m sure I can bear it.”

Dr. Becker turns back to you with a syringe in her hand. You tense at the sight of it but Sam moves closer, the warmth of Sam’s body on your leg enough for you to let go of your lip.

Dr. Becker pinches your arm and starts to inject you. Your face contorts and you wince in pain. While you’ve been punched, kicked, stabbed, and shot many times, it doesn’t make this any easier. You have to squeeze Sam’s hand as hard as your weakened state allows you. And it may be a bit of an ego boost but Sam winces from your grip.

In reality, it only takes about ten seconds but to you, it feels like a lifetime before Dr. Becker pulls the needle out. “Alright, all done,” she tells you, putting a bandaid where the dot of blood is. “The medicine should take effect immediately, so you need to rest up as much as possible. You can get your crutches from Nurse van Wieren when you’re ready,” she tells you and then leaves.

You look up at Sam to see him with a small smile on his face, looking back at you. “What?”

“Now, was that so bad?” he asks you.

“Yes,” you conclude firmly. You watch Sam try to hold back his smile, but failing miserably. You click your tongue at him, half heartedly hitting him in the chest. “I’m serious. Feels like a rod going through my arm.”

Sam chuckles but says, “Sorry, it’s just…” Sam shrugs. “I didn’t know that about you.”

He says it warmly. It reminds you of the first time you two had met almost a year ago when Sam had tested your name on his tongue right in the middle of HYDRA 2.0. You and Sam exchanged phone numbers right after the whole mess had been cleaned up.

“You know now,” you tell him. “So what?”

Sam shakes his head. “So nothing. I like learning new things about you, even almost a year into our relationship,” and isn’t that the sweetest goddamn thing? You are the luckiest guy in the world. Sam’s tone goes comically serious. “No, seriously… you want me to kiss it better?”

“Shut up,” You blush. “And help me down,” Sam smiles, holding out his arms for you to grab. You put a hand on his shoulder, balancing yourself. Wincing as you shimmy your way off the bed, you favor the leg that didn’t have a bullet in it.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, “thank you.”

“It’s no problem, baby,” Sam coos while gripping onto you. “And be prepared because I’ve got a special dinner waiting for you when we get home.”

You snort and scrunch your nose. “Dinner? It’s 10 o’clock.”

“Then, it’s a midnight snack,” Sam tells you sassily.

“It’s not midnight, either.”

“Humor me.”

You sigh. “Fine, it’s a late dinner snack.”

“Alright, then,” Sam concedes. “Let’s go.”

Nurse van Wieren hands you your crutches as you and Sam leave the medbay. You smile and thank him before he walks away.

Sam’s words finally hit you as you get into the hallway. “Wait, waiting for me? How did you know I was coming home today?” you question, grabbing your boyfriend’s attention. You watch as Sam’s face begins to flush. You squeal. “Oh my god! Did you make SHIELD tell you where I was?”

Sam doesn’t respond for a few seconds before, “...Maybe.”

“Aw,” you coo, causing Sam to scoff.

“Yeah, don’t let it go to your ego, L/n.”

“No, but you have to tell me,” you tell him, stepping into the elevator before Sam does. You stand side by side, staring at each other with matching grins on your faces. “Is this special treatment reserved for me alone… or do you keep tabs on Steve and Nat, too?” as you expected, Sam doesn’t answer and you can’t hide your laugh. “That’s sweet,” you praise. “I might just have to tell Steve and Nat about it.”

“Don’t you dare!” Sam warns, though the smile on his face doesn’t disappear.

“I won’t, I won’t,” you agree without a second thought. “I know Steve would be indignant for about a week and who knows what the hell Nat would do to you,” you and Sam share a laugh, Sam’s gaze falling to the floor while you continue to stare at him because god, you love that deep, breathy laugh he does. You feel like you’re a goddamn king everytime you manage to get even a single giggle out of your boyfriend.

“Hey,” you say, grabbing Sam’s attention. He turns to you, looking extra adorable with his hands in his pockets and that tooth rotting smile on his face. “I think I might take you up on that offer to kiss me better.”

This causes Sam to hum smugly, his grin growing bigger and even more sugary. “Really?” Sam says slowly while he places his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down tenderly. He’s obviously being careful of your wounds. Noticing this single detail about Sam and how he is around you, you’re struck with how much you love this man standing in front of you.

Sam places a chaste kiss right over your bandaid before he rests his chin on your shoulder. “I love you,” he whispers against your skin. You feel your heart grow warm at his words.

“I love you, too,” you breath. “Now, let’s go home so you can kiss me better. And before dinner gets cold.”

(NOT MY GIF)

Main Blog // Other Side Blog

((NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WORK ANYWHERE EVEN WITH CREDIT))

[jotunlokisuggestion]

I’m gonna illustrate to you the Thanos-problem not so quickly.

The studio went to Kenneth Branagh in 2010 and told them they want a villain as good as Magneto for their Avengers film.

And almost 10 years later the MCU wanted to write an interesting, political villain called Thanos for Infinity War/Endgame.

Now, when Kenneth Branagh got the (really annoying) custom-order for a good villain, he didn’t look at the villain the studio liked and copied him. Instead he had the brains to write Loki as a character. With his own personality traits, qualities, quirks, a unique backstory that appeals to Branagh’s strength as a writer, whose origin story can be used and re-used in future films and plots, who has unique and adaptable strengths and weaknesses and who is played by an actor who is really good at playing roles like that.

Meanwhile Thanos is just...going through the Killmonger/Loki/Magneto motions of: political villain: ✅ tragic backstory:  ✅ destruction: ✅ big baddie speech ✅ --- but there is no heart to any of that, no sense of detail, no moment for him to shine no personality.

And you know (I really tried to stop myself from adding this) in the 90s we had this flood of dark, gritty anti-heroes with their giant guns and ten thousand pouches. And some of them like Cable were really good while later characters became pale imitations of Cable (think of that famous video of Liefeld inventing a character and he just draws Cable number 8948320 and his backstory is that he’s a cyborg) and all those rehashes of the Killing Joke. And in the end they all lost track of what made these characters good in the first place.

And in the late 2000s and early 2010s we had this wave of young, hip, funny for the lulzs supervillains who just had quirks and no reasons and personality and in the end, basically nothing of substance remains of any of them - an epidemic starting with Heath Ledger’s Joker but were later replaced with young men in suits who were also kinda pop-culturally - ironically Leto’s Joker hopped onto that bandwagon like 9 years late with a starbucks 

And I understand why in the last few years, political villains have entered mass-production, but a villain like that doesn’t work unless your writing challenges their ideas. Okay lemme give you another example: Since the (in)famous Far Cry 3 with its very 2012 villain quirky-crazy-Joker-y villain Vaas we now had Far Cry 4 playing in the land of a slightly quirky fashionable young man dictator and Far Cry 5 and New Dawn with an evil Christian cult right in the US. 

The transition from early 2010s to late 2010s is obvious but - these are video games and by the time we fight the final boss, we have automatically actually spent a lot of time in their respective worlds. We know why these are horrible people. We are challenging their methods and ideas already when we encounter them. In the MCU, we see Killmonger actually rule over Wakanda and we know while his ideas are good. his methods aren’t - while at the same he challenges Wakanda and forces T’Challa to accept that his father was not perfect. Each time we see Loki rule over Asgard, imperialism is challenged - in the first time when he actually attacks Jötunheim (thus executing exactly the things he had been taught his entire life) and by not intervening in the colonies in Ragnarök.  But, you are going to say, Thanos ideas are challenged! We see that people are sad that he killed half the universe! - and I mean yeah, but I didn’t need to watch the movie to know that people would be sad. Instead, everything happens exactly as you expect it would. All these previous examples were interesting because we wouldn’t know what the villains would do and how it would affect the population. Also the final notion - that the universe would eventually be better of if half the universe was destroyed, remains unshaken and unaddressed.

And honestly, their attempt to make Thanos likeable or understandable might be the huge problem of the film. Thanos as a morbid, unlikable killer who’s in love with death works because we don’t need to relate to him for that. We don’t need a connection. Many good villains are absolutely detestable. You can do a lot not by making them seem sympathetic (which is almost impossible with villains like Thanos anyway) but you can make them interesting to the audience-

let’s talk about villains who are absolute giant assholes but I like them:

Yeah him <3 You remember the first season of Hannibal? As members of the audience, we know who Hannibal is before we even start watching. Hannibal Lecter is one of the most famous villains there are. In the movies, he’s arrested in Red Dragon right in the first scene - there is never any doubt about who he is. But in the show, he’s yet an active serial killer and working with the police. The police that solves his murders. The police who doesn’t know that he’s the killer. The killer whose name literally rhymes with cannibal and who makes cannibalism puns. There were hundreds of memes about how fucking frustrating it was that the police always just walked right past him.

That was the thing: We, the audience, knew something the characters didn’t. Like in a horror film when we know the killer is hiding behind the door and the main character doesn’t. You want to fucking scream at the screen in frustration. Okay what does that have to do with Thanos? Imagine all those glimpses and we saw of him in previous movies would have presented him in a likeable light. Imagine if his disciples were actually seen gaining people’s trust or if people in GotG would actually casually mention “oh Thanos will fix this, I heard he has a brilliant plan” or he tried to convince them that there was a huge famine coming. It would have been so frustrating to see people trust him because obviously everyone who reads the comics would know that Thanos is bad news and if we saw people actually trust him? maybe actually give him Infinity Stones to fix the universe because he’s the only one who can use them? Fucking rude.

Reveals :)

I guess I don’t have to tell tumblr who the first guy is but a quick rehash: In season finale of Sherlock, a guy who appears in one scene as the girlfriend of a colleague of Sherlock turns out to be Moriarty. 

And guess what? It absolutely doesn’t matter one single fucking bit that Moriarty is the lab guy. And the big reveal doesn’t matter because we’re not given any of the clues. He might as well have been the mailman. Now, the Man In Black from Westworld however? That was a huge reveal. (Major spoilers if you haven’t watched it but I’m keeping it vague). We saw the Man In Black commit the worst crimes imaginable throughout the first season of the show, he killed hundreds of people without remorse. And in his defence, we thought that he thought it was all a robot theme park. Except? We find out that he’s actually the older version of one of the main-characters who absolutely saw robots as people once and evn protected them and loved one. This was both a horrifying reveal, an origin story and it made his crime even worse. That’s good villain-writing.

What does that have to do with Thanos? - Technique. Just how the reveal was written has a huge impact. Imagine if there had been no mention of Thanos at all until Infinity War - and the characters were actually forced to figure out who brought Loki to Earth, who supported Ronan, who attacked Asgard. Maybe you catch some glimpses of his disciples and maybe you get to hear the name of one of them at the very end or Loki even whispers “Thanos” in Thor’s ear before he dies and he as to figure out what that means. Make us work to get there. 

Relevance!

Now, they wanted a political villain, right? AHS Cult gave as a political villain who is absolutely detestable every step of the way. But the reason he was scary and interesting is because...it was relevant af. Every word he said, every political opinion he expressed, the way he staged attacks on him by migrant workers and spread fear in his community - that rings very close to home right now. I  can get why someone would say you can’t do the same in a Marvel film, but Sci-Fi has always been a projection screen for political subjects for decades now. Star Trek has been doing it since the 1960s and if they had actually committed to making Thanos allude to actual political slogans of today, he would have been way more relevant.

Dynamics (aka how to make someone likeable without condoning their actions)

On my main, I made a post once about Loki and Magneto and how having, forming and developing relationships helps to flesh out a character. In short: We learn to understand them. We see them grow. We see (ideally) how they learn from encounters and how it shapes them. Now we are entering the realm of likeable again with Azula, because what made her a brilliant villain was not her brilliance or her abilities (they made her a great opponent though) but her motivations. The more we see her family, the more we learn that she, too, is a victim of a dysfunctional family. She allows a whole new perspective on the royal family. That scene where she tells Ozai that he ‘can’t treat her like Zuko’? - those were ten fucking books written in one line. Her descent into paranoia basically rewrote every scene of her in the past and is also a reminder that she’s 15 and yes, of course, she’s a victim. She’s a child fighting in a war.

How many meaningful relationships does Thanos have? He’s quite fond of Gamora I guess? Less fond of Nebula? There was an embarrassing attempt to create a connection between him Tony. Now, remember that in the comics, Thanos is someone driven by love. He loves death - that’s the relationship that drives him. It’s important that there is a face to everything. Show me Thanos family, show me his homeworld. Show me his previous desperate attempts to save the people he loved and how he was held back and driven to more and more desperate measures. Show me how he finally gives in and wants to destroy everything.

“show don’t tell”

I’m going to argue for a Thanos solo movie now :)      (kinda) 

Okay I feel kinda compelled to put David in this when I’m already posting this on my rp blog but also a) I love him and b) shut up. short summary: David was created an android that is programmed to serve humans. He grows to resent them more and more, especially because many of them are petty and abusive towards him until in the second film, he just wants them dead.  Now in his first scenes of Prometheus, we see him alone on the ship while the human crew is in cryosleep. We see him eat, play basketball, ride a bicycle, watch people’s dreams. He also watches Lawrence of Arabia while dying his hair to look like him and quotes the above sentence several times just before the rest of the crew wakes up. 

It’s a tiny sequence in the film but we learn various things about David: He’s vain, he does things he - as a robot - doesn’t have to do, he identifies strongly with a man torn between two cultures, he has a lot of fun when he’s alone, he habitually spies on people, he is feeling pain in some capacity and he associates it with humans. We learn all of that in those few tiny moments.

compare all of what we learnt in this short sequence to what we know about Thanos. After seeing him in...I think three films by now? And having people talk about him in even more? With literally every character I listed now (excluding Moriarty bc he’s a negative example) we know what drove them to do what they did. We know their pain. We know them.  Even if the things they are cruel because here it comes:

They are a Story.

And Thanos is a plot device.

or to quote fellow tumblr user hackedmotionsensors:  I’ve never liked Thanos because hes like a video game villain. Like he’s the annoying equivalent of finding the final boss in a FF game and its just a giant head or something stupid.

[maybeformepersonally]

Fic: Fragile Tension

Title: Fragile Tension Author: maybeformepersonally Rating: PG-13 / Teen and Up for implied, barely-there violence Summary: Phil’s family deals in espionage, which was working out just fine until he decided to shack up with a civilian.  Word Count: 4142 Author’s Note: Written for the Phandom Fic Fest Bingo, for the square “Spies”. The title is a reference to the song by Depeche Mode. Read on AO3

Phil was terrified. He and Dan had been enjoying an early night in when the lights went out. Phil’s internal alarms immediately went haywire. It could just be a power out… except that when he leaned back to look through the doorway and into the hall, and past that to the sitting room, he could glimpse through the far left sitting room window that the neighbours seemed to have no such issues. It could be a problem with the wiring, or even in the supply company… except that Phil had people whose jobs were to prevent such inconveniences in his day-to-day life, and he’d had professionals scope out this house before he and Dan moved in. The house had state of the art security, some of which wasn’t available to the public yet, so it was highly unlikely that someone had tampered with it by mistake, and the people who would have the skills to tamper with it on purpose… Phil was understandably concerned.

He’d immediately tried sending a distress signal to both Martyn and Corn as soon as he scoped their surroundings to find them as empty as they’d been before the lights went out. He didn’t want to think about how he might need backup, but he was no fool. He wasn’t jeopardising Dan’s life for anything, least of all his professional pride. He had no signal. He knew what he’d find but he tried Dan’s phone anyway. No signal. There was no way this was an accident. Fuck.

Dan had wanted to go to the garage by himself to check on the fuse box and that’s when Phil started to panic. In a cold and calculated way that only really came out when he was working, but still. Panic. Of course, he didn’t normally have his civilian husband-to-be with him on the job. Phil was wishing he hadn’t insisted on having this date night tonight, if only he’d been alone at home when whatever this was happened, with Dan safely out of the way of harm…

 Phil insisted they should stay together, so they should both go. Dan looked dubious, but Phil could see he was afraid too. Phil let some of his panic show and Dan caved immediately. He probably didn’t want to be alone either, though for different reasons than Phil. They moved slowly and silently through the house, Phil discreetly taking a couple of things on the way that he could use as weapons. He had switched to on-the-job mode automatically, so he didn’t realise, wouldn't realise until later, that most civilians wouldn’t be able to match him on stealth at a moment’s notice while sneaking through an almost completely dark house (even if it was your own house).

 Who would send people to get him in his home?, thought Phil furiously as he moved through the main hall and into the next room. ‘A lot of people’ was sadly the answer, if only they knew where to send them. Fuck, if something happened to Dan because of him… this is exactly why he’d resigned himself to staying single way back when he’d got heavily involved in the lifestyle. That resolution had lasted an embarrassingly short time as soon as Dan came into the picture, though at least Phil could say he’d lasted a full twelve years with nothing but one-night-stands and short dalliances before that happened. As soon as he met Dan, however, it had gone flying out the window. For all his resolve, Phil had been smitten from day one.

 Martyn had run so many background checks, even once it became painfully clear that Dan was squeaky clean, that Phil had stopped trying to dissuade him after a while. Better to let him get it out of his system, it’s not like the results would change if Martyn kept it going. Eventually he’d calmed down and started to get to know Dan beyond Phil’s reassurances that no, Martyn, he’s not a honey trap, he’s not a plant, he’s not a mole, he’s just a bloke I fell in love with, okay? Can you give him a chance, at least? Your checks keep coming up empty, and we both know how good you are at what you do. I also know you got the best of the best confirming your results. It’s not his fault our family is so dysfunctional, okay, and I really like him.

 It hadn’t taken Martyn too long to warm up to him once he admitted Dan was a civilian and agreed to give him a chance, thankfully. Phil didn’t like to think about his relationship with his brother during those early days before he did. Those were dark days.

 It had taken weeks of Martyn coming up with nothing, the first and only screaming match he’d had with Martyn, and Cornelia’s interference to wear him down.

 ***

“I’m just worried about you,” the desperation in Martyn’s voice was almost enough to make Phil hesitate. Almost.

 “I know you mean well, but you’re being irrational.”

 “You’re my baby brother!”

 “I’m 31 years old, Mar. I can take care of myself. I have a triple digit kill count, for fuck’s sake.”

 “And an almost non-existent relationship history,” Martyn cut in, relentless.

 Phil winced, but he was done indulging Martyn’s overprotective act.

 “Don’t you dare. I have more successful missions that most operatives twice my age. Just because I don’t date often doesn’t mean I’m helpless.”

 “I’m- I’ve just never seen you take a risk like this. No one is this clean, Phil, it reeks of a cover-up. And I’ve never seen you this… taken with someone before. I just want to make sure, okay? Can’t you stay away from him until then?”

 Phil sighed. He was tired of fighting with his brother. They’ve always been close, it was awful being at odds with him like this. He could understand Martyn’s initial mistrust, but at this point he was being unreasonable. If Martyn of all people hadn’t found anything incriminating yet then it was almost impossible that there was anything to be found.

 “Mar, you’ve been investigating him for weeks now. There’s nothing there. And I do know how to take care of myself, you know, I can defend myself if it comes to that. Not that I believe it will-“

 “In a physical fight against an opponent, yeah. But what if he makes you fall for him and you can’t bring yourself to hurt him-“

 “You’ve been with Corn for over seven years now,” Phil’s voice was uncharacteristically cutting, but he was tired of this.

 “We knew she was safe!” Martyn immediately counters. Cornelia doesn’t say anything.

 “Mum and Dad are good, but they’re not infallible. She could have been a plant.”

 “She’s not-!”

 Phil rolled his eyes, trust Mar to completely miss the point as soon as Phil brought up Corn. “Obviously she wasn’t! What I’m saying is: you took a chance! Why should I not get the same leeway? Why can’t I take a chance? It’s a good chance. Odds are pretty good what with your extensive research on him. You know I’m right!”

 Martyn hadn’t budged then, but Phil knew from his pained expression that he had got through to him.

 It’d take another week and a half of Martyn calling in every favour he could think of and several other professionals looking into it before he caved and agreed to give Dan a chance.

***  

Now, Phil focused on the very real, very present threat to his fiancé’s life and wished he could have his big brother’s overprotective vigilance looking over both of them.

 By the time they crossed the three rooms between them and the room that led to the garage door, Phil was so on edge he’d swear the fear was a physical presence on the back of his head. Fuck, he’d have to kill in front of Dan. Soft, sweet, wonderful Dan who insisted that Phil catch bugs to release them outside instead of killing them, even the ones he was terrified of. Dan, who had slid into his life, and his heart, and his home, with his bright dimpled smile and his gentle heart, bypassing Phil’s qualms and concerns and better judgement like it was nothing.

 What would Dan even think…?

 Creak. Click. Thud.

 He didn’t get to find out what Dan would think because Dan had shoved him safely out of the way around the corner and thrown himself at the thicker shadows at the end of the hall and what the hell, Phil rolled and moved towards the scuffle, heart stuck in his throat, just in time to find several dark shapes on the floor, unmoving, and four more shapes fighting viciously in his parlour. Three of them had guns. Dan didn’t. In the half a second it took him to assess the situation, Dan had hit one of his assailants in the throat, jumped to execute a flawless thigh choke on another and stabbed the third one on his way down, landing on his feet as the three masked men fell to the floor.

 Phil just stood there, in shock.

 Dan wasn’t even out of breath.

 “Phil?” Dan whispered, looking at him, behind him, scoping the vicinity for more threats. He had a butterfly knife on his hand, how had Phil missed that? When did he get it?

 Dan turned to get a 360° look around, giving Phil a blurry look of his broad, lovely back, that back that Phil kissed whenever they cuddled with Dan as the little spoon, sprawled soft and warm and boneless in Phil’s arms; where Phil loved to bury his face first thing in the morning, before he has his first coffee, or any time he walked into the kitchen to find Dan cooking for him, for them, and he couldn’t resist wrapping his arms around his chest and burying his face at the back of his neck, breathing in Dan’s scent and squeezing him against himself. And suddenly, all Phil could think of was Martyn’s warnings, Martyn’s questions, Martyn’s worries, what do you even know about him? Did you tell him anything about our work? Don’t you think it’s suspicious he shows up when we’re pulling probably the biggest mission we’ve even been involved in and just conveniently asks you out?

 Dan turns on the light, the little click of the light switch superimposed with the click of Phil taking off the safety on his gun.

 ***

 He can see Dan freeze for a moment, then turn around to look at him.

 Phil’s face is completely blank. He’s worked very hard to perfect that blank look.

 A near imperceptible sound to his right calls his attention, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Dan’s wide, startled ones as he moves his hand and shoots the remaining assailants before they can creep in on them. He’s pointing the gun back at Dan in two seconds flat, long enough for him to make a move, Phil knows now, but Dan doesn’t. Dan is still completely frozen, staring Phil down.

 Phil doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know if he could even shoot him, even if it turns out Martyn was right about him all along, but Dan takes the decision off his hands when he deflates and moves back against the wall, one step away from Phil, and slowly extends his arm to drop the knife he’s been holding on top of the decorative vanity desk there. They’d had an ‘argument’ about it. Dan had seen it and immediately wanted it and Phil had said it was too expensive and completely useless, it wasn’t even big enough to store things in. He’d caved, of course. He’d wanted to buy Dan all the useless, expensive things he craved, had wanted to spoil him.

 “Okay,” his voice is a whisper still, but Phil can hear it tremble despite the volume. “Do it.”

 Phil doesn’t talk, doesn’t know what to say, what to do. He just stares blankly at the man he’d sworn to love and protect and cherish as he points his gun straight to his head.

 “Get it over with. I don’t want to know. If it wasn’t real… I don’t want to know.”

 Dan’s expression felt like a physical kick in the gut. Phil knew those eyes, knew what Dan looked like when he was trying, desperately, to hold back tears. He’d seen him look sick, look scared, look exhausted, but he’d never seen him look shattered before.

 Phil never really stood a chance.

 *** 

After Phil puts the gun down, his senses going full-on hyperactive work-mode and assuring him there’s no other threats lurking around, just Dan. Just Dan. Something in Phil breaks, something like his composure, maybe, or possibly his heart, and he has to exercise all of his hard-earned discipline not to burst out crying where he stands.

 He’s clutching Dan in his arms in the next second, holding him tighter than is probably comfortable, but he knows Dan doesn’t mind by the way he melts into him, and damn it, if he really is a plant then Martyn was right because Phil already knows he’s going to let Dan kill him if he tries.

 “I can’t. But I need… I need to know. It wasn’t- it was real, for me. It was real.”

 “Me too. It’s real for me too, Phil, I love you-“

 “Tell me. Everything.”

 “Okay,” Dan is clearly trying to pull himself together, and Phil is distantly impressed because all he wants to do right now is sink into Dan’s chest and not move for the next few hours. “But we need to go. Now.” Phil made a noise of protest, he didn’t want to let go of Dan, but then Dan let out a shaky breath and said, “There might be more coming, or outside, they could call reinforcements-”

 “You're right.” Phil acquiesced. He still took a few long seconds to disentangle himself. At least Dan seemed just as reluctant to let him go.

 “Phil-” Dan interrupted himself and made a face as a thought occurred to him. “Oh god, is that even your name?”

 “No, my real name is Kyle,” Phil intones with a terrible American accent. He might be having some kind of mental breakdown.

 Dan stared back at him with a blank expression that told him he was aggressively suppressing some kind of reaction, and the visual was so familiar it eased something in him and that coupled with the relief of the adrenaline of the last few minutes, made him burst out laughing. He sounded hysterical. He probably looked insane.

 “Yes, my name is Phil what the hell, Dan?”

 “Oh.”

 “Is your name not-?”

 “No, of course it is.”

 They stared at each other some more, until Dan grabbed his hand and moved them to the garage.

 Phil tried not to startle too badly when Dan picked up some hitherto hidden weapons on the way, and instead busied himself with doing the same.

 ***

 After a few minutes of riding in silence, Dan was the first to break.

 Phil knew he would, he could see his agitation growing. Phil was still too busy processing his new reality.

 “You almost fell flat on your face when we first met!” Dan demanded out of nowhere, bewildered. He was driving them away from the house, but his focus was understandably mostly on Phil and the revelations of the last few minutes.

 “I was nervous! You’re very attractive!” Phil defended himself, and the domesticity of it felt like a balm to his metaphorical open wounds. They sounded exactly like this when they disagreed about what painting would look best in the master bedroom, back when they had just moved in together.

 Dan shot him an utterly disbelieving look, mouth open and eyes squinting, and Phil felt he had been entirely justified, because if his boyfriend could look this attractive when he was pulling that face and immediately after rocking the foundations of Phil’s world, then no warm-blooded male-attracted person could be expected to function normally when faced with peak Summer Dan in his white skin tight tank top and his taut black tracksuit trousers which exposed his delicate ankles and hugged his thighs just so, and his silver hoop earring and his luxurious mane of wild chocolate brown curls and he was only human, okay? And gay. Very human and very gay. Phil maintained that he’d done well, considering.

 ***

 Almost exactly one year later, on a joint mission (and they only pull joint missions by then, they will not agree to be away from each other unless absolutely necessary), Dan is seething with jealousy watching his husband seduce some poor schmuck.

 He is also very turned on. It only makes him angrier.

 “You never did that with me,” Dan comments later, once they're out, mission completed and objectives met, when Phil is sprawled out comfortably next to him in the enormous plush red sofa at the hotel room where they’ll be spending the night, before going home. He's been looking at something in his phone for a couple minutes now.

 “What?” his husband asks, distracted.

 “You never pulled those honey trap skills of yours on me.”

 Not even in the early days. Granted, the initial impression Phil had left on him when he slipped into Dan’s life - literally - rather clashed with the suave worldly seductress he'd just watched Phil put on and then off like a second skin. But Dan had seen enough to know… Phil was good, exceptional even, and he could have made it work with a few adjustments.

 But now, Phil is sputtering at him, visibly offended for some reason that escapes Dan. He’s so expressive; Dan’s always loved that about him.

 “Of course not!”

 A little frown finds its way to Dan's brow without his permission. “Why not?”

 Phil just makes a high, distressed noise and a lot of hand motions for several seconds. Dan stares at him appreciatively. His quiff is still damp from his shower and drooping a bit, and he’s clad in nothing but the two large fluffy white hotel towels. He’s ridiculous. Dan loves him.

 “Because!” Phil manages to sputter out eventually.

 “Because what?” Dan asks, at a loss. He can tell Phil is genuinely mildly upset about whatever it is, but he can't figure out what it is.

 “Because!” Phil repeats, “You weren't a mark!”

 “...I mean, yeah.” They'd talked about this. Extensively right after the revelation of their secret identities came out. “But,” here Dan hesitates, but he knows they need to talk about it.

 “But you liked me. Really liked me, you said. You told me you thought I was gorgeous. That you were so mesmerized that you walked into that potted plant…?”

 He greedily took in Phil’s blushing face and spared a little amused smile at the knowledge that even after all this time, after everything they’ve been through together, he could still make Phil this flustered.

 Phil sighs. “I did.” It's said quietly but firmly. The words hold a conviction that soothes into Dan's bones like warm cocoa on a winter night.

 “Fuck, Dan, I walked into a fucking potted plant because I was so entranced with you I wasn’t watching where I was walking. I'm a trained psy ops agent.”

 Dan couldn't help the little smirk at that, nor the warm glow spreading over his chest.

 “But you were- I liked you! I mean, I liked you. I wanted… I wanted you. For the first time in a while, I wanted something for myself.” Dan can see him sink back into the seat with a long exhale, and he takes the hand extended to him and lets Phil pull him next to him. “I didn't want to… to approach you like a mark. I didn't want to entice you with some made up persona. I wanted to get to know you. As myself.” He takes another deep breath. “I wanted you to get to know me. And to like me.”

 “Oh.” Dan’s response is small. He stays quiet for a while after that, digesting the revelation, his fingers trailing up and down Phil’s arm absent-mindedly.

 “…Phil?” Dan breaks the silence after a few minutes.

 “Yeah.”

 “We're going to roleplay that though, right?”

 Phil laughs good-naturedly.

 “You will be the irresistible honey trap and I can be the hapless mark, who's hopeless before your worldly charms…”

 “Okay, okay,” he's still laughing.

 “And I can be properly enchanted and-”

 “You won’t be, though, you’ve been with me for over two years now.”

 “…whatever makes you think that knowing what you can do in bed will make me less likely to fall to my knees in worship?

 “Shut up.”

 Dan wasn’t deterred by the words, as Phil was giggling as he said them, and he could read the grin on his face. That was his self-satisfied, proud grin, the one that was almost a smirk. The one he got when someone tried to flirt with him in front of Dan and Dan got possessive. The one he got when Dan got more needy and whiny than usual and he not-so-secretly loved it.

 Yeah, Dan was going to be crossing off another fantasy from his bucket list soon.

 Phil pulled him closer by his shirt to kiss the obnoxious grin off his face, and Dan knew he’d won.

 ***

 Phil would have nightmares about the night when everything came out for the rest of his life. Sometimes it just plays out like it did in reality. Sometimes it’d be different in some way. The worst one is the one where he presses the trigger. Sometimes Dan screams at him, tells him he doesn’t love him, tells him he never did, that he was a job, that he’s glad it’s over. He doesn’t mind that one so much. In others, Dan tells him he used to love him, so much, but he can never trust Phil again (“You broke my heart. Might as well kill me. You’ve already killed us”). In some of them, Martyn shows up and it’s him that shoots Dan (this is the one that’s guaranteed to make him wake up shaking, because it’s always so real, and it could have so easily been true).

 He’ll have these nightmares for the rest of his life and every time it happens, when he wakes up in a cold sweat, or when he’s woken up by the tears that start falling from the corners of his eyes, when he wakes up shaking, feeling like his stomach’s dropped or like there’s an alarming tightness in his chest, every time it happens, every single time, he’ll wake up and reach for his husband lying next to him, in their bed, and he’ll bury his face in Dan’s chest, or Dan’s neck, or Dan’s gorgeous brown curls, and he’ll let himself cry for a bit until he’s calmed down enough to go back to sleep or to get up and face the day. Dan almost always wakes up, and he often holds him close and rubs his back or his sides comfortingly while Phil tries to calm down. He always whispers soft encouragement and gentle assurances, ‘I love you so much’s and ‘shh, it’s okay’s and ‘I’ve got you, I’m here’s. And every single time it happens, Phil will be desperately, unspeakably grateful.

 Grateful that he gets to have this, that he got to keep this. That he didn’t completely fuck it up. That Dan’s here still, by his side, in his arms, in their bed, safe and warm and alive and still every bit in love with Phil as they were back when they decided to move in together, as they were in their first anniversary, as they still were, despite everything, that day when Phil confronted Dan with a gun in his hands and other weapons hidden on his body as backup, in the hall of the home they built together. He’ll cry and he’ll hold Dan tight and he’ll be grateful.

 He’ll be grateful for Dan, who he met, improbably, by sheer luck, and was immediately enamoured with despite knowing next to nothing about him, all those years ago. Dan, who even more improbably seemed just as enamoured with Phil’s awkward charm and general weirdness, and even asked him to go on a date with him. Dan, who’d always been there for him, through thick and thin, in sickness and in health, as the minister said at their wedding.

 Most of all, he’d feel grateful for Dan’s incredible courage. He’ll be grateful that Dan was so brave when Phil couldn’t gather enough courage or faith or optimism to trust Dan first. And he’ll remember what Dan told him that first time Phil opened up about the nightmares and told him all this.

 Dan said, “I’ll always be there so you don’t have to be brave.”

[the-desolated-quill]

Mummy On The Orient Express - Doctor Who blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

Here I go, stepping into the unknown. I’ve never seen any episodes past Kill The Moon and I really didn’t know what to expect. It couldn’t possibly get any worse than that surely?

So this came as a rather pleasant surprise.

You’d think an episode titled Mummy On The Orient Express would be destined for failure. It just sounds too gimmicky for words. There’s a mummy on the Orient Express... in space! And yet somehow it works. It fact it works better than the majority of Series 8 has done until now. So kudos to Jamie Mathieson for doing such a stellar job.

Okay, so it’s set on the Orient Express... in space, and there’s a mummy onboard called the Foretold that only certain people can see, and when you clap eyes on it, you only have 66 seconds left to live. That’s an immensely creepy idea and they use it to great effect. Whoever designed that mummy deserves a fucking pay rise. It’s without a doubt the scariest thing ever to come out of New Who. When it first showed up, I actually screamed! The attention to detail is extraordinary, from the old bandages to the rotting, decomposing flesh. The gangly height of the actor playing him helps too. A lot of the shots are from a first person perspective, so when it reached out to the camera, I found myself instinctively leaning away from my TV. Even the Orient Express setting contributes to the horror. The tight, claustrophobic corridors of the train really bumps up the fear factor even further.

A lot of Mummy On The Orient Express has quite a classic series vibe to it. Obviously there’s the whole base under siege stuff, which has been a staple of Doctor Who since the beginning of recorded time, but there’s other things too like the mystery angle, the Doctor and the companion splitting up so that the story ends up becoming a two pronged narrative, the Doctor being suspected of being behind the killings (although thankfully it doesn’t last long), and the episode actually jumping straight to the heart of the action rather than wasting time on angsty ruminating like previous episode have done this series. There’s even a moment where the Doctor offers jelly babies. There are a few elements of New Who in here too, most notably the Evil Capitalist villain who wants to control the monster, but this really feels like a well executed homage to Classic Who. I could imagine Tom Baker’s Doctor and Sarah Jane Smith feeling right at home here.

But we don’t have Tom Baker. We have Peter Capaldi. How does he do?

I feel what’s really been letting Capaldi down is the scripts. The writers just can’t seem to make up their minds what direction they want to take this Doctor. Moffat keeps saying he’s darker and more serious, but then we get episodes like Robot Of Sherwood and The Caretaker where they try to incorporate quirky humour that just doesn’t suit this type of Doctor at all. It’s like putting a party hat on top of a skeleton. Thankfully Jamie Mathieson seems to have a better grip on what kind of Doctor he’s writing for here. The humour is a lot better here and while the Doctor is still eccentric, it’s been toned down quite a bit. For instance the way he offers the jelly babies is more casual and nonchalant. It’s noticeably strange, but at the same time it’s not so goofy it’s distracting. And there are some genuinely funny lines, which Capaldi delivers perfectly. My favourite is probably when he confronts the mummy at the end:

“Hello! I’m the Doctor and I’ll be your victim for this evening. Are you my mummy?”

I also got a kick out of the whole mystery shopper scene:

“I could do with an extra pillow and I’m very disappointed with your breakfast bar, and all the dying.”

It’s quirky, but it’s not too quirky. It’s pitched at just the right level so that it works for this particular Doctor.

But what I especially like is the callousness of this Doctor. When characters are being picked off one by one by the mummy, the Doctor is more concerned with getting more information about the Foretold rather than helping or comforting the victims. He’s not in the least bit apologetic like Nine or Ten would be. He just wants to find out as much about the mummy as he can from this death in the hopes that he can prevent the next one. At one point he even goes as far as to get Clara to trick Maisie into coming to the carriage so that he can seemingly sacrifice her to the mummy for more information (later we learn this was just a ruse, but it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. I could imagine this Doctor doing something like that). It’s very dark indeed and Clara is clearly appalled by this, accusing him of being heartless, but that’s not really true. If the Doctor really was heartless and uncaring, then yeah, this would just be horrible, but the reason it works is because of Peter Capaldi’s performance. Just look at the scene where the kitchen staff are flushed out into space by GUS. The subtle frown on Capaldi’s face speaks volumes I think. The Doctor does care about the deaths. He’s just internalising it, choosing instead to focus on the problem at hand, which comes off as callousness, but as the Doctor himself says, there’s no time to mourn. Standing there wringing your hands isn’t going to do any good. So the Doctor just gets on with what he has to do rather than get bogged down in sentimentality.

Are there any problems with the episode? Well... the ending is a bit of an anti-climax. I suppose it can’t be helped really, but the mummy is sort of thrown away at the end (I read some reviews and people seemed really confused by the ending. Why did the mummy salute the Doctor if he surrendered? How did it die? It seemed perfectly clear to me. The alien tech was controlling the mummy, absorbing the life force of people to keep it alive, the Doctor’s surrender deactivated it and the mummy saluted the Doctor as a way of expressing gratitude before collapsing into dust). The characters are a bit limp too. They’re not bad. They serve their purpose and the actors give decent performances. They’re just not very interesting. The engineer Perkins is probably the weakest. He just felt a bit bland and nothing-y to me and I’ve never been particularly fond of Frank Skinner.

And then there’s Clara. It was a little bit jarring seeing her again and seemingly getting on with the Doctor after Kill The Moon, but the episode quickly explains this is their ‘last hurrah.’ I really have mixed feelings about all of this. I had no problem with Clara calling the Doctor out for his supposed callousness, but it’s the context that bothers me. Clearly she’s still reacting to what happened at the end of Kill The Moon, which as I’ve said before is utter bollocks because the Doctor didn’t actually do anything wrong, and yet Moffat clearly expects you to be on her side... which I’m not... because she’s chatting shit. Later she realises, in a very clunky exchange with Maisie, that she’s not ready to give up her adventures with the Doctor and is prepared to overlook his faults (which begs the question what was the fucking point of the last episode then). But then it gets even weirder toward the end when she not only lies to Danny about ending her travels with the Doctor, but also lies to the Doctor, saying that Danny was the one that said she should give it all up. I’ve never liked Clara and I’ve completely resisted any attempt of Moffat’s to convince me she’s somehow the perfect companion, but here I’m utterly confused by what I’m supposed to think of her at this point. Why is she lying? She’s got no reason to lie as far as I can see. Why can’t she just be upfront and say she wants to keep travelling? It certainly demonstrates how fucking dysfunctional her relationship with Danny is, but is that intentional or is Moffat once again being an utter twit?

Nevertheless, I really enjoyed Mummy On The Orient Express. It’s a great throwback to the classic series with a truly creepy monster at its centre. I’d say this is my favourite episode of the series so far. Please let the rest of Series 8 be as good as this.

[thebluelemontree]

So Sandor doesn't care about kings and mighty lords and stuff like that, but is possible that there's some kind of begrudging respect in him for Sansa's powerful family? Ned, Young Wolf, Blackfish and Jon, too (hopefully, they'll meet in the future) - all those guys are awesome and I'd like to think that Sandor agrees with that.

Hey sorry it took so long to get back to you.  I’ve been a bit overwhelmed and it took more time than I thought.  

Respect?  Errrrr, don’t hate me, but… no, not yet if we’re talking about what’s published so far, but we have reason to hope in the future.  The major block to recognizing traits worth respecting in individuals, let alone a whole family, is that deeply ingrained cynicism dancing up to the edge of nihilism.  The world is shit, the system is shit, and people are divided into either butchers or meat.  Most of the time he sounds like a smug, know-it-all teenager that stands on the sidelines pointing out everything that confirms his bias.  Yes, he has some buried idealism wayyyyyyyyy down in there, but it’s not as if they were equally-matched forces duking it out inside him for every word and deed.  It’s a worldview that has served him by making him feel strong and invulnerable.  There’s just no good reason at the start to dredge up those dreams of childhood, which he associates with vulnerability and helplessness.  It’s a security blanket.  Think of how hard it is to change someone’s mind about politics or religion.  The only way that usually happens is if someone has a lived experience that challenges their current beliefs.  Even then it can be a long process of wrestling with the new idea while it competes for brain real estate with the old idea.        

For him to even entertain the idea that someone could actually walk the walk of a real hero, a true knight, or lady, he needs to see what they’re made of with his own eyes.  His goal post is so far down the field, he actually makes it near impossible for anyone to live up to, which only confirms his bias.  Robb and Ned are definitely not the ones who make a dent in that.  Maybe he’ll reflect back on them in future books with fairer assessments, but not in the books so far.  He’s not impressed with a righteous cause or reputation anymore than wealth or titles.  

 Specifics under the cut.  

The WF training yard is his first interaction with Robb.  Not that Sandor respects Joffrey’s boasting and jackass calls for live steel, but he’s not impressed by Robb’s “courage” with this nerf bat training in an adult supervised safe zone either.  He even takes a swing himself, just because Robb is so very easily goaded.

The burned man looked at Robb. “How old are you, boy?”

“Fourteen,” Robb said.  

“I killed a man at twelve. You can be sure it was not with a blunt sword.”

Arya could see Robb bristle. His pride was wounded. He turned on Ser Rodrik. “Let me do it. I can beat him.”   

At this point, Sandor probably thinks Robb and the Starks are just more of the same self-congratulatory nobility that he’s used to.  Maybe not as dysfunctional and ruthless as the Lannisters, but still part of the same system.  Like Sansa, he probably thought Ned was a bit of a naive fool that got in way over his head. He believes what passes for honor and righteousness are just fancy clothes people dress themselves in or it’s a fool’s tin armor.  It would be inevitable that the latter would get themselves eaten alive.  Only people like him that have The Truth™️ figured out survive.  It takes Sansa’s lived example right in front of his face to take a chip out of those ideas.    

She has it in her to be a real deal true lady, despite his first impression that she’s just empty-headed and superficial.  After Ned’s execution and Sansa is forced to look at her father’s tarred head, she’s determined to look without seeing.  She shows enormous strength of will to not give Joffrey one iota of the reaction he desires.  When he taunts her some more, she bites back:  “Maybe my brother will give me your head.”  I won’t glamorize her murder-suicide thoughts, but I think witnessing this scene shows Sandor that innocence, compassion, and vulnerability can go hand in hand with real strength and courage.  Just because awful people hurt her does not mean she is weak.  It just might move that goal post a tiny bit closer in that even a sometimes superficial, imperfect, childish young girl can still conduct herself in such a way.  It’s still a long way from reconciling what he’s just seen with near a whole lifetime of cynicism.  It’s a start though!      

When he smiled, she knew he was mocking her. “Your brother is a traitor too, you know.” He turned Septa Mordane’s head back around. “I remember your brother from Winterfell. My dog called him the lord of the wooden sword. Didn’t you, dog?”

“Did I?” the Hound replied. “I don’t recall.”

Sandor probably did say that back in early AGOT when he didn’t gaf and would crack jokes like that to amuse himself as much as Joffrey; however, it seems as though he’s regretting and distancing himself from that bit of immature ridicule for her sake, not so much Robb’s.  But let’s be real.  He’s not always respectful toward Sansa from this point forward, but he’s staying in the conversation.  He’s still fighting the ideas she’s challenging him with.  It’s only by his actions, not words, that we see him starting to test those waters by making different choices.  He wants to be proven wrong deep down, but he’s going kicking and screaming the whole way.  

The other Stark he’s spent a significant amount of time with is Arya.

“I’m not a boy! But Mycah was. He was a butcher’s boy and you killed him. Jory said you cut him near in half, and he never even had a sword.” She could feel them looking at her now, the women and the children and the men who called themselves the knights of the hollow hill. “Who’s this now?” someone asked.

The Hound answered. “Seven hells. The little sister. The brat who tossed Joff’s pretty sword in the river.” He gave a bark of laughter. “Don’t you know you’re dead?”

“No, you’re dead,” she threw back at him.

Against all odds, Arya is alive.  The little girl that bested Joffrey with a “wooden sword” no less and made a mockery “Lion’s Tooth,” a tale that probably amused him as much as it did Renly.  He’s not meaning “brat” in a truly insulting way here, but that he’s genuinely surprised she’s survived this long and that she must really be tough as nails.  The Wolf Bitch nickname he gives her follows that same line.   And he seems to appreciate it when she’s bluntly honest.  I think he does respect aspects of Arya because he can certainly relate to being an angry, scrappy kid.  This is up to a point, because he’s very annoyed that she is relentless in reminding him about his accountability in Mycah’s death.  Through their journey, he is mostly focused on how helping her serves his needs.          

If this Young Wolf has the wits the gods gave a toad, he’ll make me a lordling and beg me to enter his service. He needs me, though he may not know it yet. Maybe I’ll even kill Gregor for him, he’d like that.“

“He’ll never take you,” she spat back. “Not you.”

“Then I’ll take as much gold as I can carry, laugh in his face, and ride off. If he doesn’t take me, he’d be wise to kill me, but he won’t. Too much his father’s son, from what I hear. Fine with me. Either way I win. And so do you, she-wolf.

Eh, I’m not seeing respect for Robb or Ned here, grudging or otherwise.  Sandor is still not getting it yet, though his intentions are to find a way to get back to KL and rescue Sansa.  All this wishful thinking aside, he wants to look like a big hero, but do so by cynically playing on Robb’s sense of honor as a wedge in the door.  He wants it both ways.  To be a true knight in Sansa’s eyes, while keeping his security blanket right where it is.  

It’s really at his death scene where Sandor confesses to the point of overly taking responsibility and feeling remorse for even the things he didn’t do, that he really connects with his best self.  No more bullshit.  He’s thoroughly stripped down and vulnerable and finally open to someone like the Elder Brother coming along.  If we’re judging by the gravedigger’s humility and quiet, humble service, Sandor has learned quite a bit about respect for others.  Respect for people he would have one considered weak for their pious, peaceful life.  Stranger’s refusal to be turned into a plow horse or be gelded means he’s not meant to remain there nor will he abandon all of his personality.  He will return to the story, but I think directing his anger and biting criticism to individuals that truly deserve it.              

So I do have a lot of hope for the future though, because he does seem like a displaced Northerner and that can’t be for nothing.  I would be neat if he gets to meet some remaining members of Sansa’s family and hopefully they won’t try to kill him on sight.  There’s still the Saltpans matter to clear up.  I lean toward that Sandor will actually become part of this family one day, so I think at that point there’d be some honest to goodness mutual respect, not just grudging.  :)