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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 4 years

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Silly Little Symphony - Bakugou Katsuki

Track 1: Paralyzer- Finger Eleven

—/—

Bakugou is not a fan of half-assing things.

He hates it, despises it actually. Bakugou feels like anything worth doing deserves 100% effort, and if you give it any less than that you might as well not even attempt it in the first place. That’s his motto and that’s what he sticks with and that’s what he’s doing right now, too. Obviously.

Except- why does it feel like he has to convince himself?

It’s like there’s this lingering feeling in his mind that he’s taking the easy way out. That he’s taking the cheater’s way out, but it’s- there’s just no other choice, alright?

Bakugou knows he’s a brave guy, knows that he could shred anything he set his sights on, but by that very same logic, he’s knows even more that he’s not a very soft guy. His feelings for you are his feelings, and yes he might acknowledge them, but that doesn’t mean he could ever communicate them delicately. Even when he runs fantasy scenarios in his head, the words still come out all wrong. They’re too loud and too brash and too forceful and you always end up offended.

Bakugou doesn’t want you to end up offended- at leasy more than you already have. So, he quickly decided on a different method of communication.

A playlist.

A playlist full of songs that convey what he’s been wanting to, but also sound angry and scary and tough- because he’s a tough guy who listens to nothing but rock and punk and metal, and has definitely has not searched up songs with your name in the title before, and has definitely not then added those songs to his library. Because that’s ridiculous and soft, and like determined before, Bakugou Katsuki is not soft.

What he actually is, is a guy with a playlist full of specially-curated songs. And a guy with absolutely no idea how to give them to you.

The thing is, he’s read manga and watched movies and read all sorts of articles about these types of confessions (not that he’d ever admit that), but none of those felt like him. He was not a smooth talker or a brazen flirt or even just a kind guy- no, Bakugou was mean and loud, and he knew full well that he’d much sooner be cast as the antagonist than the romantic lead.

So all of that was a problem, and then you also currently didn’t even like him. You made it very clear, though every sneer and comment and biting comeback, that only feeling you held for him was begrudging respect- and even that was only on the battlefield. Once he stepped out of the hero uniform than you were back to hating him, and he only made it worse with every childish insult he threw your way. Bakugou knew it was a stupid way to get your attention, but it was also the most efficient one; and he was a man of efficiency.

So that left him here- pining the same way he had been for weeks, staring down into a playlist full of songs he couldn’t figure out how to play for you.

He sneaks a look at you, red eyes just barely skimming over top of the bus seats. You’re sitting a few rows ahead, sharing a snack with Tsuyu.

Bakugou thinks you’re stupid. He thinks you’re stupid for eating junk food right before a day of training, and he thinks you’re stupid for choosing to sit all the way in front like a nerd, and most of all he thinks you’re stupid for sharing your snack with that damn frog face when he’s right there. And obviously much better in every comparable, concievable way. Obviously.

Bakugou presses his headphones more securely into ears, and slouches down deep into his seat. All he can see now is the back of the seat, and he thinks that’s a better alternative. At least it won’t piss him off- not like the sight of you, sitting up front and laughing where he can’t hear, will.

With a grunt, he hits shuffle on his playlist, turning the volume to max. He closes his eyes dropping his head against the window. Drum fills and a guitar riff flood his ears, and he’s relaxing a bit, sinking into the sound, and all is well and good until-

Well just look at that girl with the lights coming up in her eyes. She's got to be somebody's baby.

God dammit.

Fuck Phantom Planet. Bakugou thinks. Fuck them.

Then he’s growling as he hits the skip button, throwing his phone onto the seat next to him.

—/—

As it turns out, all Bakugou needed was to beat the ever-loving shit out of something.

Cracking his palms and shaking his limbs, Bakugou launches at another robot. He thinks the machines feel weak under his explosions, almost offensively feeble in their construction. Like all of U.A’s staff went braindead that morning- like they couldn’t even bother to cook him up a worthy opponent.

When Bakugou looks around, that’s clearly not a shared statement. There’s the usual standouts of course, stupid deku and stupid icyhot and even stupid dunce face is doing well for once, but the rest of them are average. Mediocre. Completely and utterly inferior to him- and then you enter.

Your quirk, blink, is a bit useless in this scenario, but you’re not letting that stop you. There’s purpose in your movements, quick and controlled actions as you strap your home-made bombs around the base of each robot’s leg. Machines don’t blink, so you’re shit out of luck for your main speed ability, but your training makes up the difference. With practiced ease you’ve darted out from beneath the robot’s feet, and then you’re hitting the detonate on your remote.

Bakugou thinks you look unreasonably fucking cool as you sprint away from the blast. So cool in fact, that he might even consider your tech explosions as cool as his quirk ones. Maybe.

Bakugou wipes his palms, muffling a yawn. He’d blown up all his assigned robots ages ago, and now was left kicking rocks and generally doing nothing.

This training was supposed to act as a benchmark test- the idea was to drop a similar opponent into the ring, one that emulated the entrance exam, to test how far everyone had come since the beginning of the semester. It could’ve been good in theory, but Bakugou thought it was just a waste of time. Robot’s were easy for him then and they sure as hell were easy for him now.

Still though, he was the first one to kill all his robots, so not all was lost. Bakugou still walked away a winner and that meant he was feeling much better than earlier.

Smirking with shameless pride, Bakugou saunted to the exit area. More students began to file in after him, and he kept mostly quiet, but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut when you walked past him.

“Fuckin’ fifth? With your overpowered-ass quirk?” He sneers, voice loud. “Waste of talent.”

Bakugou watches spin on your heels, watches your face melt into something deadly. You’re storming towards him, and he can’t even think past hoping you’d get a little closer.

“Robot’s don’t fucking blink, you jackass.” You’re red in the face and glaring, hands curling into fists at your sides. “You try getting. anything done without your quirk. Asshole.”

Then you’re stomping away, hardly giving him a second look as you cheer on your friends.

Bakugou can’t even begin to decipher what possessed him, to say those words, but he’s also not surprised. His words always come out wrong and he can’t say anything nice without wanting to scratch away his skin.

What he really wanted to say was that you were impressive even without your quirk. That you were admirably smart and tactical and well-prepared with your own bombs, and he thought that you looked really hot sprinting away from the wreckage- but that’s not what he said. Of course that’s not what he said.

Well, there goes his good mood. No amount of previous wins could ever distract him from how much of a loss that interaction was.

Eventually the rest of the class finishes, and then they’re all gathering breathless and tired back to the bus. Unfortunately, Kaminari fried himself completely and Mineta managed to break an ankle and that meant that they needed their own seats. That also meant that two people who had their own seats on the ride there, would now be sharing on the way back.

As shitty luck would have it, the class chose drawing straws as the deciding factor, and even worse than that, Bakugou got the shortest straw. The day was already shaping up to be pretty frustrating, but when you pulled the second-shortest straw it got even worse.

“We can always share instead, L/n!” Tsuyu’s says, hand on your shoulder and voice mediating. “Really. I don’t mind.”

Bakugou watched you sigh for a moment, and then you’re turning your head towards him. Your eyes meet his and Bakugou can’t help the smirk that rolls across his face- you’re looking at him and paying attention to him and even if it’s just you making a point he still likes that attention. He watches you squint your eyes at him in response, voice hard and steely as you speak to Tsuyu.

“No. It’s alright. We picked staws, and fair is fair.” Your squint morphs into a glare. “And besides, I’m not gonna let that smug bastard throw a fit into getting out of this.”

The statement should piss him off, and if anyone else said it it would’ve, but Bakugou finds it does the opposite. It just reaffirms how brave you are and how you’re not scared of him like everyone else is and how much he likes you for it- not that he’d ever tell you any of those things.

To save face, Bakugou instead pretends to be pissed about your words, his palms popping and crackling as he glares right back. He hopes it looks like a genuine threat and not a panic reaction, because really he just thinks you look so cool talking back to him directly like that and he definitely doesn’t know what to do with that. So instead he does what always works; what always makes him feel better when he gets a feeling too big to handle- he preps to blow shit up.

“Calm down, man. It’s just a seat.” Kirishima comes up behind him, pressing a water bottle into Bakugou’s crackling palms. “Here, take this and please don’t blow up the bus. Or L/n. That’d be so totally not heroic of you.”

“Shut the hell up.”

“No I’m serious, dude. Chill out, okay? L/n’s actually pretty nice once you get to know her.”

“I said, shut the hell up, Shitty Hair!” Bakugou barks, gritting his teeth.

Then he’s shoving his palms into his pockets, leaving Kirishima and the water behind, and stalking towards the bus before anyone else does. Bakugou figures that if he’s got to share a seat, then at least he’s going to be the one sat next to the window. He’ll make sure of it.

Still, there’s something sitting heavy in his stomach though- how does Kirishima know you’re nice?

The comment made his blood boil. Bakugou thinks it’s strange because usually he’s pretty tolerant of his friend, and even finds himself enjoying his company sometimes, but those words pissed Bakugou off. Pissed him off a lot.

”Wow, don’t look so goddamn thrilled.” You say sardonically, and Bakugou watches you drop into the seat next to him. “Might accidentally think you tolerate me, blasty.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that. Useless extra.”

Bakugou wants to smash his head into a wall- because why the fuck did he just say that?

Oh yeah, because apparently his jealousy was plastered all over his face, clear enough for you to comment on it. And even if you didn’t know that’s what the expression was, he’d still rather bite your head clean off than admit it was there in the first place.

“Yeah, whatever. I don’t want to fight.” You say, clenching your jaw as you settle back into the seat. “Look, it’ll be easier for both of us if we don’t talk, so I’ll just sit here and not bother you, alright?”

“Fine. Shut the hell up then.”

Once again, Bakugou wants to obliterate himself.

He doesn’t know why he can’t just tell you- why he can’t just say that he wants you to keep talking to him and that he wants you to keep snarking back at him. Why he can’t just say that he thinks your voice is one of the least grating ones in the whole class.

He thinks all of those things, but says none. Instead he keeps a fist clenched as his sides, scowling as he pulls out his headphones. He makes an intentional effort not to play your playlist and instead hits shuffle on all his music. He’d hoped that the loud drums and guitars would settle his emotions, but they didn’t. Nearly 10 minutes have passed and Bakugou’s as riled up as ever, but he’s also now completely convinced you’re trying to kill him.

You’re shifting in your seat, your arms extending out as you slip on your jacket. There’s little room, and every time you shuffle the sleeves to adjust them, you’re knocking your shoulders into his.

Then you stop.

You just stop and you go still and his skin isn’t tingling anymore and Bakugou is all kinds of pissed all over again. Because of you he’s nervous and flustered and you have the audacity to just sit there, unaffected. He has to snarl just to keep himself from blushing when he speaks.

“Why the fuck were you touching me?”

“It’s a small seat and I was putting on a jacket.” You reply, short and clipped. “I don’t know what you expect me to do about it.”

“Tch. Just don’t do it again. And shut up the fuck up already.”

“You- you talked to me first!”

“And? Who the fuck cares?” Bakugou grunts, turning the volume of his music up. “Now shut up.”

Jesus christ. Bakugou thinks to himself. Maybe I should just blow myself up for once.

Another few minutes pass, and Bakugou swears he’s really is dying. You’re still so close to him and he’s feeling very, very flustered, and while he doesn’t love the idea that you’re mad at him, he can’t say he hates the look on your face right now either. You’ve got your jaw clenched and your eyebrows set low and your hands are balled into fists as you steadfastly ignore him. Bakugou thinks you look scary- fucking terrifying.

He likes terrifying.

“Hey.” You suddenly nudge him with your shoulder, pointing to his earbuds. “I can hear it- your music. Turn it down.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Because that’s basic courtesy.”

“What the fuck makes you think I have that, hah?”

“Oh my god, you’re fucking impossible.” You rolls your eyes, heaving a frustrated sigh. “Listen, if you’re gonna keep it up that loud then at least skip that song. It’s shit.”

Bakugou glances down at his screen.

Fucking Nickleback.

Jesus, could his day get any worse?

“Shut the hell up.” He snaps, squinting his eyes. “What the fuck do you know about good music? You don’t know shit.”

“I know that song sucks, so skip it. If you’re gonna accost me with loud music at least make it good.” You bite back, and then Bakugou watches as your face melts into an easy smirk. “Unless... all your music is that terrible?”

“Sounds like you’re pickin’ a fuckin’ fight!”

“I am, you asshole!”

Bakugou doesn’t know when the two of you got so close, but now you’re only inches away. He’s got his palms up and you’ve got your lips pulled back into a snarl and suddenly the bus seat seems so much smaller. It’s so much smaller and all Bakugou can think about is the red in your cheeks and the fire in your eyes and how much he likes the sight of both.

“Just skip the song or turn it down.” You finally huff, falling back in your seat, and all Bakugou can think about is how that breathe would’ve been on his cheek if it was two seconds ago.

Bakugou is mad. He’s mad at you and your stupid witch powers that leave the air feeling cold and your stupid breaths that he can’t stop focusing on and your stupid comment. Your stupid comment that had his blood burning in his veins and irritation settling in his temple.

Bakugou listened to cool music, okay? Cool, loud music for cool, loud guys. You just insulted that, insulted him so this wasn’t just a means of confessing feelings anymore, it was a pride thing and that’s why he says what he said next. It’s definitely not because this was the golden chance he’d been waiting for.

“My music is fuckin’ good.” He growls, and then he’s yanking an earbud out and shoving it towards you. “I’ll fucking show you. Now shut up and listen.”

“So goddamn pushy, jesus.”

“You gonna fuckin’ take it or not?”

“Oh my god. Fine.”

Bakugou watches you fit the earbud into your ear, his mouth set into a determined line. He knew he’d fucked up every other part of this conversation, monumentally fucked them up even, but he wouldn’t mess this up. He was prepared and this was the chance he was waiting for. Only an absolute idiot could mess this up and Bakugou Katsuki was not an idiot.

So he plays the first song he’d added to your playlist. Paralyzer.

To his surprise, you start nodding your head almost immeadiately. You know this song. The drum fill starts and then you’re looking over at him, giving him the tiniest little smirk of approval.

“Not bad, blasty.”

“Fucking told ya.” He can’t help the pride that swells in him at your validation. It’s warm and heavy in his chest, nearly drawing a smile out of him- and then he remembers he’s supposed to be mad. “And I told you, don’t fucking call me that.”

“I’ll call you by your name when you call me by mine.”

“Wipe the smirk off your stupid fucking face,” Bakugou growls. “Or I’ll blast it off.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes! Fuckin’ try me, extra!”

“Okay.” You huff a laugh at him. “Don’t blink then. Champ.”

Then you’re raising your hand, shoving it in his face and snapping before he can stop you. Bakugou flinches out of reflex and by the time he’s opened his eyes, you’ve already used your super-speed ability.

You’re sitting back against the seat, calm and collected and smirking, with both of Bakugou’s earbuds in your ears. You’ve got his phone in your hand and he watches you twist the cord around your finger, cross your legs casually and he’s stunned. He’s pissed that you got the better of him, but he also just really thinks you’re hot when you’ve won. He watches in dazed silence as you turn up the volume on his phone to max.

Well I'm not paralyzed, but I seem to be struck by you. I want to make you move because you're standing still.

Bakugou decides two things in that moment: One, he fucking hates Finger Eleven. And two, he wants to blow the entire fucking bus to smithereens.

—/—

eee i hope u all enjoy, but especially u @bakugouswh0r3 and @definitelynottrin :))

#bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha fic #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #mha fic #bakugou x you #bakugou fic

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thedevillionaire · 2 years

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7, 22, 30 for whichever you like!

Thank you so much! I'll do both, because why not. 💟

7. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

This is a really interesting one, and I had to think about it for a bit. Better put in a readmore thingy.

For Kia, it's unexpected reminders of old mortal friends or family - mostly friends - that she by necessity hasn't had contact with since her Underworld inception, or her general old mortal life. She sometimes gets a little sad, a little wistful, in these moments, but these days it's basically an enjoyable experience, not a painful one. She has often dearly wished she could share her life with those who were close to her when she was mortal, but it's an impossibility, and she accepts it as such. For Cerberus, nostalgia is much more tied to particular people or events, particular moments in time, specificities, so triggers are likely to be a scent, or an expression/idiomatic speech, or song, even, that is very much directly connected to that singular thing or person. It's nearly always a quietly pleasant moment for him, with a couple of exceptions - there are very few people now gone from his life who he actually misses - so, yes, overall I would say that he enjoys it.

22. How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?

Answered for Kia here I can't remember Cerberus ever being jealous at all. It simply doesn't occur to him to feel remotely threatened by a third party admiring his beloved. And if the attentions of that third party were reciprocated, jealousy still wouldn't be his reaction. So, no manifesting here. It's just not in his nature.

30. Who do they most regret meeting?

There have been several idiots and false friends/partners in Kia's past who could have very well done without, absolutely. No standouts, but a fair array of dickheads in there, lol. But then, she'd say it all led to her being where she is today, so...no real regrets, as such. Okay, maybe a couple. Some of them were really big dickheads, and some of these dickheads caused her genuine pain at the time. Cerberus would love to name Enigma here, the intrarealm Sorcerer who was responsible for him getting icestruck and a month and a half of being sick AF, but there were very significant benefits that came from meeting him as well - not the least of which was the discovery of another plane of existence, and his ability now to access it - so he really can't. He's grumbling about it a bit, though. In truth, there's innumerable people he's met over the years who he considers have been nothing more than a waste of his time, but it's not a regret as such, just a fact of life. He just finds a lot of people uninteresting, and he'd like to not have to spend collective hours in their company due to expected social convention. But, you know. He does have to. Ah, well.😂

#answered asks #cerberus and kia #i got really lost in that nostalgia question for a while #never really thought about that aspect before

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idreamofplaid · 3 years

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Rebirth

Square Filled: Anonymous Sex

Characters: Dean x Reader; Cara (OFC); Chase and Jake (OMCs) mentioned

Rating: Explicit

Summary: After a nasty divorce and some soul searching, the reader knows just how to get her life back with a little help from a young handsome stranger.

Word Count: 3576

Tags: language; oral (female receiving); unprotected sex; age difference

A/N: This is for @idabbleincrazy ‘s 1k Follower Celebration. Congrats on your 1st thousand followers! I chose the song “1985″ by Bowling for Soup for inspiration and the prompt “Oh, fuck off.”

Created for @spnkinkbingo

Fuck him and his new girlfriend. He could have at least waited until the ink dried on your divorce papers before he decided to parade his “new” woman in front of the entire town. New. Right. He’d been fucking her while he was still married to you.

You needed to get the hell out of this place. Start over somewhere, somewhere that no one knew of your humiliation or how you’d thrown your life away. Only, you couldn’t because you had two children in high school that loved their lives here. At least they were happy; that’s what mattered, right?

The so-called “friends” you had in the subdivision couldn’t wait to tell you about your barely ex-husband and how he’d been seen out with her at the fanciest, most expensive restaurant in town. It was the same place he’d taken you for your last anniversary.

By the time your SUV pulled up in front of the bridal boutique, you were still seething. You slammed the door when you got out, not giving a damn who saw you. Let them go back and tell the entire fucking book club about your lack of decorum if that’s how they got their thrills.

When you walked into the store, a sea of white flooded your vision. Well, here was exactly what you wanted to see. Wedding dresses. Beyond them, further in the back, were the prom dresses. It was like the highlight reel of your life in dress form.

You’d gone to your senior prom with the cheating son of a bitch that was now providing juicy material for all the town gossips, and just like the biggest cliche ever; you’d given him your virginity that night. If only you could take that back, but you’d been young, wide eyed, and in love. Four years later, right after college graduation, you married him. As a result, Chase was the only man you’d ever had sex with. Right now, you were really kicking yourself for that one.

In fact, you couldn’t be more pissed at yourself for the decisions you’d made. If there was a way you could erase it all and somehow keep your two kids, you’d do it. You loved them, and it was that love that brought you here to this hell of taffeta, sequins, and silk. The alterations were finished on your daughter’s prom dress, and it was ready for pick up.

You tried to settle the storm of anger and frustration that was raging inside you before you walked up to the counter. It wasn’t the sales associate’s fault your life had turned out the way it had. You blamed yourself for that, and blaming yourself just made you madder.

Somehow, you managed to plaster on a smile while you gave your name and got the dress. Once it was in your hands, you stood frozen staring at it. It was a sapphire blue, body hugging, silk and Cara would be beautiful in it. It made your mind wander back to another blue prom dress, the dress you had worn thirty years ago. “I was the goddamned prom queen,” you muttered under your breath.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” Joachin, the sales associate was staring at you with a confused expression on his face.

“Nothing,” you replied a little too sharply, abandoning all your earlier good intentions toward the innocent Joachin. You turned and swept out of the store in a huff of tarnished memories and present day frustration.

As you walked out into the sunshine of the early afternoon, you draped the dress over your arm. With your other hand, you started to dig around in your purse for your keys. Where the hell were they?

By the time only a few steps remained between you and your car, a feeling of furious panic started to bubble up inside you. You couldn’t have. When you reached the car and looked through the window, you saw that indeed you absolutely had. There were the keys, hanging in the ignition.

You placed your forehead against the cool glass of the window and closed your eyes. Of course this had happened. You would be stuck here dealing with this fuck up for hours. The auto club was never quick to respond to any call for help. At least you didn’t have to worry about the kids getting home from school. Cara had her own car, and Jake had an away baseball game this afternoon. You wouldn’t need to pick him up until later tonight.

A deep voice broke through your mental attempt to organize this mess. “It looks like you could use some help.”

You opened your eyes to see those bloody keys still hanging there, mocking you. Without nearly as much fire as you’d been feeling earlier, but still enough to get your sentiment across, you responded, “Oh, fuck off.”

“Well, I could. Or, I could help you break into your car.” Break in? Who the hell was this, and how dare he have so much cockiness in his voice?

You turned to confront the unknown son of a bitch who was so clearly finding your situation amusing. Upon seeing him, your attitude instantly changed. This man was gorgeous. He had full lips, a chiseled jawline, and eyes the green of an Irish meadow.

His face was so pretty it could easily grace a movie screen, and his body was equally heart stopping. He had the broadest shoulders you’d ever seen on a man, and you could see enough through the open front of the leather jacket he was wearing to know his chest and stomach were firm. He looked like walking sex, and it had been way too long since you’d had any.

The spark of inspiration struck, but in this case it was more like a lightning bolt. It was time to reclaim your own life. “Forget the keys. Where’s your car?”

Young and handsome smiled and gave a nod in the direction of the other side of the street. “It’s over there.”

Your eyes followed the direction of the tilt of his head. “That’s your car?” It figured. The car was a classic muscle car, strong and beautiful. It was just as much of a standout as the man it belonged to.

You dug back in your memory, seeking your long dormant flirting skills. They were rusty for sure, but still there. You smiled at this breathtaking man, just the right combination of coy and suggestive. “Could I trouble you to give me a ride home?”

He smiled back, and those green eyes got a certain gleam in them. God. He was clearly much better and more practiced at this flirting thing than you were. “Sure, sweetheart. It won’t be a problem at all.”

You followed him across the street, enjoying the view of his ass as you went. When you reached the car, he opened your door for you. THAT was something you hadn’t experienced in awhile. A welcome feeling began to flow through your veins, replacing the anger, frustration, humiliation, and regret you’d been feeling all day. This was a ripple of excitement and anticipation of entering unknown territory.

Handsome started the car, and the purr of the engine revved up that ripple of excitement inside you, turning it into a wave that washed over you and secured the idea that had been dancing through your mind. You silently committed yourself to it, and that decision filled you with something that felt remotely the way you remembered joy feeling.

He reached over and turned the knob to start the radio, then pushed a tape into the tape deck. Good lord. A cassette tape. It had been forever since you’d seen one of those. This guy had barely been born the last time they had been popular.

The songs that poured through the speakers were from your youth, before that even. They were the songs you’d heard when you were a kid. Songs from the time of your life when you didn’t think anything about mistakes, or getting things wrong. You were just filled with hope, possibility, and excitement for the future. That was the feeling you needed to recapture.

This was a good start. Many would say it was a reckless start, but this wasn’t their life. It was yours, and it was time you took it back. In some ways, you would be claiming it for the first time, and this incredibly handsome, exciting, and just a bit dangerous man beside you could help you do that.

He noticed the smile that had appeared on your face. “You like the music?” he asked.

“I do. I appreciate a man with a taste for the classics.” Those intoxicating green eyes were focused on you before he turned them back to the road and smiled.

Then a little bubble of excitement rose up in your chest, and you bit your lip. An idea had struck you. It was possible to redo your life; you were young enough. You weren’t just going to spend the rest of your days on the sidelines watching your kids live. On impulse, you turned and asked him, “Do you have anything from the eighties?” It was possible. This was a man with a collection of cassette tapes.

He didn’t take his eyes from the road, but his grin got bigger. “There’s a box under the seat. You might find some Bon Jovi in there, but I’m not making any promises.”

You reached under the seat, found the box, and started to shuffle through the bunch of tapes you found there. After sorting through the Zeppelin and the AC/DC, your eyes fell upon exacting what you’d been looking for. It was Bon Jovi’s greatest album in your opinion, Slippery When Wet, circa 1987.

You opened the plastic cassette cover and took the tape in your hands. It sent a rush through you, unlike anything you’d felt in years. This was the album you played in your own cassette deck every afternoon after school, all that time ago, with your best friend in the passenger seat beside you. Everything lay ahead of you, all the bad decisions still lay ahead. It was all nothing but good.

It felt like a magical talisman you held in your hands. You looked at your new companion hopefully. “Can I?”

“Sure,” he answered as he popped the current tape out of the deck and tossed it on the seat between you.

You put your find in the tape deck, and immediately the sounds of “Livin’ on a Prayer” filled your ears. Your eyes closed, and you allowed yourself to indulge in the fantasy of turning back the clock and living a different life. It was a life with a different boyfriend and a different outcome, the one where you weren’t a washed up stay at home mom who had put so many of her dreams on hold to support her husband and his.

Dreams of travel filled your mind, dreams of travel and starting your own business. Once you had imagined being a fashion designer, a glamorous fashion designer, before you started wearing conservative suburban wife clothes and stopped dreaming. The rekindling of that spark of who you might have been brought a smile to your lips.

“What are you thinking?” Handsome with the green eyes and the incredible voice asked you. He reached across the seat and took your hand in his. Your smile got even bigger. It was time to push the reset button on your life.

You gave the gorgeous stranger directions to your house. Okay, that was a little risky, but of all the things that had gone off the rails in your life; your intuition wasn’t one of them. You had the very distinct feeling you could trust him.

Your garage door opener was trapped back in your SUV along with your keys. He’d just have to park his car in the driveway. Let the nosy neighbors wonder about that.

Fortunately, you had a spare key to the house hidden nearby. It took a minute to find the correct rock, but when you did; there was the key where you’d hidden it underneath. You returned to the front door triumphant, key in your hand. Once inside, you put your purse on the table in the foyer while mystery man turned in a slow circle, taking in the place.

He turned back to you. “Nice house.”

You took off your jacket and hung it on the coat rack in the corner. “Thanks. There’s a nice liquor cabinet too. How about a drink? A small thank you for rescuing me from the side of the road.”

He rubbed his thumb along the corner of his mouth. “It wasn’t exactly the side of the road, but I will take that drink.”

You walked on into the house, making your way to the living room; he followed. The bar was located near the massive floor to ceiling fireplace, and the ceilings were high. Chase had insisted on it. It always struck you as a little much, but he was ever aware of appearances. Until now, it would seem. Apparently, abandoning your wife and children for a gold digging bimbo was a good look.

The crystal decanters on the bar certainly had the right look. They also had the right aged whiskey inside them. You flipped over two tumblers and poured some in each.

He took the glass you offered him and raised it to those luscious lips. After a long sip, he asked you “What’s it like living in a place like this?”

You whirled the whiskey in your glass for a moment, starting at it, then glanced up at him. “Not as wonderful as you might imagine. What about you? Where do you live?”

It was his turn to find his glass fascinating for a few seconds. “Nowhere really. I travel around a lot.” You couldn’t quite pin down the tone of his voice. Did he like that fact about his life or not? Either way, it added to the air of mystery around him.

You took a swallow from your own glass. The little boost of alcohol induced bravery certainly wouldn’t hurt with what you had in mind. “Are you in town for long?”

He licked his lips before answering. “That depends. I’m here for a job. Not sure how long it’s going to take yet.” Enough with the small talk.

You took the glass from his hand and put it down on the bar. “What about this afternoon? Do you have a little time off?”

He settled his hand at your waist. “I could take a couple of hours for some relaxation.”

You downed the remaining contents of your glass and placed it on the bar next to his. “I have a couple of hours too.” You put your arm around him and let your palm rest over the center of his back.

That sinful mouth was on top of yours in an instant, and he absolutely knew what to do with it. His kiss was gentle but firm, tongue dragging along the seam of your lips until you opened them for him. The taste of the bourbon on his tongue as his tongue moved around yours was practically weaving a spell around you.

The kiss became deeper and more insistent. Your tongue swirled and tangled around his, and your breathing hitched in your chest. He started to bend you back over the bar, and, from deep inside your pocket, your phone started to ring. “Ignore it,” he said against your lips.

“I can’t.” That’s what it meant to be a mother. You fished the phone out of your pocket and checked the screen to see who was calling. Maybe it wasn’t one of the kids. Cara.

You touched the screen to answer and put the phone next to your ear. “Hello.”

Without any preamble, your daughter launched right into the purpose of her call. “Mom, is okay if I…. Why are you breathing so hard? Are you doing one of those old aerobics routines again? Mom, that is so lame.”

He was kissing down your neck, his mouth open just enough to require you to struggle to concentrate. “No, that’s not what I’m doing.”

You heard the sigh and could picture her rolling her eyes. “Whatever, Mom. Can I go over to Tabitha’s for dinner?”

He was sucking on your pulse point, and it was getting harder to keep your mind on the conversation. “Yes. That’s fine. Be careful driving home.” You ended the call, aware the kissing that had felt so incredibly good had stopped.

He’d taken a step back from you, and those captivating green eyes held a big question. “Look, this can’t happen if you’re….”

You quickly replayed your side of the conversation in your head. “Married? No. I am very much not married. That was my daughter, and she won’t be home for several hours.”

His smile was back, and his arm went back around your waist. “Well, in that case, where were we?”

You all but tore the leather jacket from his shoulders and let it fall in a heap on your expensive rug along with your phone. The rest of his clothes and yours disappeared on the trip down the hall to your bedroom where you’d been sleeping alone for so many months.

Surprisingly, you didn’t feel at all self conscious as you walked into your bedroom naked with this man you’d just met. He was a sight to behold. You wanted to taste and touch every tempting inch of him, and you started with his chest.

You ran your hand over the firm muscles in his pecs and let your fingers trace over the fascinating tattoo there. It was as much a mystery as the rest of him, and you didn’t ask him any questions about it. This wasn’t a “bare your heart and share your past” kind of afternoon.

He watched your hands on him, and when he raised his eyes to meet yours; they were dark, filled with lust. His hand closed over yours, large and strong, and he led you to the four poster bed. God, he was gorgeous.

Solid thighs, toned stomach, and thick cock that made your mouth water just looking at it. He lay back on the bed, his golden freckle dusted skin a beautiful contrast to the white of the comforter, and pulled you down with him. You could feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh.

It made you wet for him, and for a brief second you wondered exactly what it was you were doing. That stray thought didn’t last long. It was replaced by a voice inside you that had been silenced by responsibilities and expectations of who you should be. He’s hot, and you’re single. Enjoy him.

He pulled you down into another kiss that made your head go dizzy with the sheer goodness of it. It felt wonderful, blissful, and consuming. Most of all, it made you feel sexy again. You started to move your hips, undulating them on the warmth of his firm body beneath you, losing yourself to the moment.

There were so many sensations competing for your attention. He was igniting the desire inside you that you had all but forgotten was there. His muscled arms circled around you, and he rolled you under him, caging you between his arms on either side of your head.

“Sure you want to do this?” he asked you huskily. His voice was as sexy as the rest of him.

“Absolutely. Don’t you dare stop now.” His lips crashed down on yours, and you returned every bit of the passion he put into that kiss. Then he moved his mouth down your body. The heat of his mouth closed over one of your nipples, and he began to suck on it, pulling the softest, neediest moans from you you’d ever heard escape your mouth.

This man shattered every inhibition you ever had with his talented tongue. The sounds you made when he closed his lips around your clit were absolutely wanton. He licked at you and ate you out like he enjoyed it. If his mouth was talented; his cock was even better.

It stretched you with a sweet burn that satisfied the ache and filled you. You dragged your nails down his back, wanting to leave your mark on him. He was certainly going to leave his with you. The memory of this day would be seared in your mind always.

He knew ways to make you feel good you had never even known about yourself. After your third orgasm of the afternoon, he finally came. You felt the pulsing of his cock inside you, and there was a certain satisfaction in that. You were smiling when he pulled out, rolled over, and lay down next to you.

His chest was rising and falling, his arm slung over his head. He was the picture of debauchery, and you loved how it felt to be debauched. You would need to take the comforter to the cleaners after this, because you weren’t done yet. Let those busybodies at the dry cleaners just try and figure out what happened to your bedding.

That wicked thought made you smile broadly. Oh, yes. The comforter would be ruined by the time you were done. This guy was for sure good for another round. Or two.

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @tumbler-tidbits @fandom-princess-forevermore @emoryhemsworth @emilyshurley @shaniquacynthia @crashdevlin @terrarium-jpeg @jules-1999 @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @volleyballer519 @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j @mrswhozeewhatsis @spnbaby-67 @wayward-and-worn @asthesunwentdown @vulgar-library @thinkinghardhardlythinking @petitgateau911

Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee @flamencodiva @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @focusonspn @akshi8278 @ladywinchester1967 @sgarrett49 @wingedcatninja @coffee-obsessed-writer @adoptdontshoppets @ellewritesfix05 @weepingwillowphoenix

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grigori77 · 3 years

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Summer 2021′s Movies - My Top Ten Favourite Films (Part 2)

The Top Ten:

10. WEREWOLVES WITHIN – definitely one of the year’s biggest cinematic surprises so far, this darkly comic supernatural murder mystery from indie horror director Josh Ruben (Scare Me) is based on a video game, but you’d never know it – this bears so little resemblance to the original Ubisoft title that it’s a wonder anyone even bothered to make the connection, but even so, this is now notable for officially being the highest rated video game adaptation in Rotten Tomatoes history, with a Certified Fresh rating of 86%. Certainly it deserves that distinction, but there’s so much more to the film – this is an absolute blood-splattered joy, the title telling you everything you need to know about the story but belying the film’s pure, quirky genius. Veep’s Sam Richardson is forest ranger Finn Wheeler, a gentle and socially awkward soul who arrives at his new post in the remote small town of Beaverton to discover the few, uniformly weird residents are divided over the oil pipeline proposition of forceful and abrasive businessman Sam Parker (The Hunt’s Wayne Duvall). As he tries to fit in and find his feet, investigating the disappearance of a local dog while bonding with local mail carrier Cecily Moore (Other Space and This Is Us’ Milana Vayntrub), the discovery of a horribly mutilated human body leads to a standoff between the townsfolk and an enforced lockdown in the town’s ramshackle hotel as they try to work out who amongst them is the “werewolf” they suspect is responsible. This is frequently hilarious, the offbeat script from appropriately named Mishna Wolff (I’m Down) dropping some absolutely zingers and crafting some enjoyably weird encounters and unexpected twists, while the uniformly excellent cast do much of the heavy-lifting to bring their rich, thoroughly oddball characters to vivid life – Richardson is thoroughly cuddly throughout, while Duvall is pleasingly loathsome, Casual’s Michaela Watkins is pleasingly grating as Trisha, flaky housewife to unrepentant local horn-dog Pete Anderton (Orange is the New Black’s Michael Chernus), and Cheyenne Jackson (American Horror Story) and Harry Guillen (best known, OF COURSE, as Guillermo in the TV version of What We Do In the Shadows) make an enjoyably spiky double-act as liberal gay couple Devon and Joaquim Wolfson; in the end, though, the film is roundly stolen by Vayntrub, who invests Cecily with a bubbly sweetness and snarky sass that makes it absolutely impossible to not fall completely in love with her (gods know I did). This is a deeply funny film, packed with proper belly-laughs from start to finish, but like all the best horror comedies it takes its horror elements seriously, delivering some enjoyably effective scares and juicy gore, while the werewolf itself, when finally revealed, is realised through some top-notch prosthetics. Altogether this was a most welcome under-the-radar surprise for the summer, and SO MUCH MORE than just an unusually great video game adaptation …

9. THE TOMORROW WAR – although cinemas finally reopened in the UK in early summer, the bite of the COVID lockdown backlog was still very much in effect this blockbuster season, with several studios preferring to hedge their bets and wait for later release dates. Others turned to streaming services, including Paramount, who happily lined up a few heavyweight titles to open on major platforms in lieu of the big screen. One of the biggest was this intended sci-fi action horror tentpole, meant to give Chris Pratt another potential franchise on top of Guardians of the Galaxy and Jurassic World, which instead dropped in early July on Amazon Prime. So, was it worth staying in on a Saturday night instead of heading out for something on the BIG screen? Mostly yes, although it’s mainly a trashy, guilty pleasure big budget B-picture charm that makes this such a worthwhile experience – the film’s biggest influences are clearly Independence Day and Starship Troopers, two admirably clunky blockbusters that DEFINED prioritising big spectacle and overblown theatrics over intelligent writing and realistic storytelling. It doesn’t help that the premise is pure bunk – in 2022, a wormhole opens from thirty years in the future, and a plea for help is sent back with a bunch of very young future soldiers. Seems Earth will become overrun by an unstoppable swarm of nasty alien critters called Whitespikes in 25 years, and the desperate human counteroffensive have no choice but to bring soldiers from our present into the future to help them fight back and save the humanity from imminent extinction. Less than a year later, the world’s standing armies have been decimated and a worldwide draft has been implemented, with normal everyday adults being sent through for a seven day tour from which very few return. Pratt plays biology teacher and former Green Beret Dan Forrester, one of the latest batch of draftees to be sent into the future along with a selection of chefs, soccer moms and other average joes – his own training and experience serves him better than most when the shit hits the fan, but it soon becomes clear that he’s just as out of his depth as everyone else as the sheer enormity of the threat is revealed. But when he becomes entangled with a desperate research outfit led by Muri (Chuck’s Yvonne Strahovski) who seem to be on the verge of a potential world-changing scientific breakthrough, Dan realises there just might be a slender hope for humanity after all … this is every bit as over-the-top gung-ho bonkers as it sounds, and just as much fun. Director Chris McKay may still be pretty fresh (with only The Lego Batman Movie under his belt to date), but he shows a lot of talent and potential for big budget blockbuster filmmaking here, delivering with guts and bravado on some major action sequences (a fraught ticking-clock SAR operation through a war-torn Miami is the film’s undeniable highlight, but a desperate battle to escape a blazing oil rig also really impresses), as well as handling some impressively complex visual effects work and wrangling some quality performances from his cast (altogether it bodes well for his future, which includes Nightwing and Johnny Quest as future projects). Chris Pratt can do this kind of stuff in his sleep – Dan is his classic fallible and self-deprecating but ultimately solid and kind-hearted action hero fare, effortlessly likeable and easy to root for – and his supporting cast are equally solid, Strahovsky going toe-to-toe with him in the action sequences while also creating a rewardingly complex smart-woman/badass combo in Muri, while the other real standouts include Sam Richardson (Veep, Werewolves Within) and Edwin Hodge (The Purge movies) as fellow draftees Charlie and Dorian, the former a scared-out-of-his-mind tech geek while the latter is a seriously hardcore veteran serving his THIRD TOUR, and the ever brilliant J.K. Simmonds as Dan’s emotionally scarred estranged Vietnam-vet father, Jim. Sure, it’s derivative as hell and thoroughly predictable (with more than one big twist you can see coming a mile away), but the pace is brisk, the atmosphere pregnant with a palpable doomed urgency, and the creatures themselves are a genuinely convincing world-ending threat, the design team and visual effects wizards creating genuine nightmare fuel in the feral and unrelenting Whitespikes. Altogether this WAS an ideal way to spend a comfy Saturday night in, but I think it could have been JUST AS GOOD for a Saturday night OUT at the Pictures …

8. ARMY OF THE DEAD – another high profile release that went straight to streaming was this genuine monster hit for Netflix from one of this century’s undeniable heavyweight action cinema masters, the indomitable Zack Snyder, who kicked off his career with an audience-dividing (but, as far as I’m concerned, ultimately MASSIVELY successful) remake of George Romero’s immortal Dawn of the Dead, and has finally returned to zombie horror after close to two decades away. The end result is, undeniably, the biggest cinematic guilty pleasure of the entire summer, a bona fide outbreak horror EPIC in spite of its tightly focused story – Dave Bautista plays mercenary Scott Ward, leader a badass squad of soldiers of fortune who were among the few to escape a deadly outbreak of a zombie virus in the city of Las Vegas, enlisted to break into the vault of one of the Strip’s casinos by owner Bly Tanaka (a fantastically game turn from Hiroyuki Sanada) and rescue $200 million still locked away inside. So what’s the catch? Vegas remains ground zero for the outbreak, walled off from the outside world but still heavily infested within, and in less than three days the US military intends to sterilise the site with a tactical nuke. Simple premise, down and dirty, trashy flick, right? Wrong – Snyder has never believed in doing things small, having brought us unapologetically BIG cinema with the likes of 300, Watchmen, Man of Steel and, most notably, his version of Justice League, so this is another MASSIVE undertaking, every scene shot for maximum thrills or emotional impact, each set-piece executed with his characteristic militaristic precision and explosive predilection (a harrowing fight for survival against a freshly-awakened zombie horde in tightly packed casino corridors is the film’s undeniable highlight), and the gauzy, dreamlike cinematography gives even simple scenes an intriguing and evocative edge that really does make you feel like you’re watching something BIG. The characters all feel larger-than-life too �� Bautista can seem somewhat cartoonish at times, and this role definitely plays that as a strength, making Scott a rock-hard alpha male in the classic Hollywood mould, but he’s such a great actor that of course he’s able to invest the character with real rewarding complexity beneath the surface; Ana de la Reguera (Eastbound & Down) and Nora Arnezeder (Zoo, Mozart in the Jungle), meanwhile, both bring a healthy dose of oestrogen-fuelled badassery to proceedings as, respectively, Scott’s regular second-in-command, Maria Cruz, and Lilly the Coyote, Power’s Omari Hardwick and Matthias Schweighofer (You Are Wanted) make for a fun odd-couple double act as circular-saw-wielding merc Vanderohe and Dieter, the nervous, nerdy German safecracker brought in to crack the vault, and Fear the Walking Dead’s Garrett Dillahunt channels spectacular scumbag energy as Tanaka’s sleazy former casino boss Martin, while latecomer Tig Notaro (Star Trek Discovery) effortlessly rises above her last-minute-casting controversy to deliver brilliantly as sassy and acerbic chopper pilot Peters. I think it goes without saying that Snyder can do this in his sleep, but he definitely wasn’t napping here – he pulled out all the stops on this one, delivering a thrilling, darkly comic and endearingly CRACKERS zombie flick that not only compares favourably to his own Dawn but is, undeniably, his best film for AGES. Netflix certainly seem to be pleased with the results – a spinoff prequel, Army of Thieves, starring Dieter in another heist thriller, is set to drop in October, with an animated series following in the Spring, and there’s already rumours of a sequel in development. I’m certainly up for more …

7. BLACK WIDOW – no major blockbuster property was hit harder by COVID than the MCU, which saw its ENTIRE SLATE for 2020 delayed for over a year in the face of Marvel Studios bowing to the inevitability of the Pandemic and unwilling to sacrifice those all-important box-office receipts by just sending their films straight to streaming. The most frustrating part for hardcore fans of the series was the delay of a standalone film that was already criminally overdue – the solo headlining vehicle of founding Avenger and bona fide female superhero ICON Natasha Romanoff, aka the Black Widow. Equally frustratingly, then, this film seems set to be overshadowed by real life controversy as star and producer Scarlett Johansson goes head-to-head with Disney in civil court over their breach-of-contract after they hedged their bets by releasing the film simultaneously in cinemas and on their own streaming platform, which has led to poor box office as many of the film’s potential audience chose to watch it at home instead of risk movie theatres with the virus still very much remaining a threat (and Disney have clearly reacted AGAIN, now backtracking on their release policy by instigating a new 45-day cinematic exclusivity window on all their big releases for the immediate future). But what of the film itself? Well Black Widow is an interesting piece of work, director Cate Shortland (Berlin Syndrome) and screenwriter Eric Pearson (Thor: Ragnarok) delivering a decidedly stripped-back, lean and intellectual beast that bears greater resemblance to the more cerebral work of the Russo Brothers on their Captain America films than the more classically bombastic likes of Iron Man, Thor or the Avengers flicks, concentrating on story and characters over action and spectacle as we wind back the clock to before the events of Infinity War and Endgame, when Romanoff was on the run after Civil War, hunted by the government-appointed forces of US Secretary of State “Thunderbolt” Ross (William Hurt) after violating the Sokovia Accords. Then a mysterious delivery throws her back into the fray as she finds herself targeted by a mysterious assassin, forcing her to team up with her estranged “sister” Yelena Belova (Midsommar’s Florence Pugh), another Black Widow who’s just gone rogue from the same Red Room Natasha escaped years ago, armed with a McGuffin capable of foiling a dastardly plot for world domination. The reluctant duo need help in this endeavour though, enlisting the aid of their former “parents”, veteran Widow and scientist Melina Vostokoff (Rachel Weisz) and Alexie Shostakov (Stranger Things’ David Harbour), aka the Red Guardian, a Russian super-soldier intended to be their counterpart to Captain America, who’s been languishing in a Siberian gulag for the last twenty years. After the Earth-shaking, universe-changing events of recent MCU events, this film certainly feels like a much more self-contained, modest affair, playing for much smaller stakes, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less worthy of our attention – this is as precision-crafted as anything we’ve seen from Marvel so far, but it also feels like a refreshing change of pace after all those enormous cosmic shenanigans, while the script is as tight as a drum, propelling a taut, suspense-filled thriller that certainly doesn’t scrimp on the action front. Sure, the set-pieces are very much in service of the story here, but they’re still the pre-requisite MCU rollercoaster rides, a selection of breathless chases and bone-crunching fights that really do play to the strengths of one of our favourite Avengers, but this is definitely one of those films where the real fireworks come when the film focuses on the characters – Johansson is so comfortable with her character she’s basically BECOME Natasha Romanoff, kickass and ruthless and complex and sassy and still just desperate for a family (though she hides it well throughout the film), while Weisz delivers one of her best performances in years as a peerless professional who keeps her emotions tightly reigned in but slowly comes to realise that she was never more happy than when she was pretending to be a simple mother, and Ray Winstone does a genuinely fantastic job of taking a character who could have been one of the MCU’s most disappointingly bland villains, General Dreykov, master of the Red Room, and investing him with enough oily charisma and intense presence to craft something truly memorable (frustratingly, the same cannot be said for the film’s supposed main physical threat, Taskmaster, who performs well in their frustratingly brief appearances but ultimately gets Darth Maul levels of short service). The true scene-stealers in the film, however, are Alexie and Yelena – Harbour’s clearly having the time of his life hamming it up as a self-important, puffed-up peacock of a superhero who never got his shot and is clearly (rightly) decidedly bitter about it, preferring to relive the life he SHOULD have had instead of remembering the good in the one he got; Pugh, meanwhile, is THE BEST THING IN THE WHOLE MOVIE, easily matching Johanssen scene-for-scene in the action stakes but frequently out-performing her when it comes to acting, investing Yelena with a sweet naivety and innocence and a certain amount of quirky geekiness that makes for one of the year’s most endearing female protagonists (certainly one who, if the character goes the way I think she will, is thoroughly capable of carrying the torch for the foreseeable future). In the end this is definitely one of the LEAST typical, by-the-numbers MCU films to date, and by delivering something a little different I think they’ve given us just the kind of leftfield swerve the series needs right now. It’s certainly one of their most fascinating and rewarding films so far, and since it seems to be Johansson’s final tour of duty as the Black Widow, it’s also a most fitting farewell indeed.

6. WRATH OF MAN – Guy Ritchie’s latest (regarded by many as a triumphant return to form, which I consider unfair since I don’t think he ever went away, especially after 2020’s spectacular The Gentlemen) is BY FAR his darkest film – let’s get this clear from the start. Anyone who knows his work knows that Ritchie consistently maintains a near flawless balance and humour and seriousness in his films that gives them a welcome quirkiness that is one of his most distinctive trademarks, so for him to suddenly deliver a film which takes itself SO SERIOUSLY is one hell of a departure. This is a film which almost REVELS in its darkness – Ritchie’s always loved bathing in man’s baser instincts, but Wrath of Man almost makes a kind of twisted VIRTUE out of wallowing in the genuine evils that men are capable of inflicting on each other. The film certainly kicks off as it means to go on – In a tour-de-force single-shot opening, we watch a daring armoured car robbery on the streets of Los Angeles that goes horrifically wrong, an event which will have devastating consequences in the future. Five months later, Fortico Security hires taciturn Brit Patrick Hill (Jason Statham) to work as a guard in one of their trucks, and on his first run he single-handedly foils another attempted robbery with genuinely uncanny combat skills. The company is thrilled, amazed by the sheer ability of their new hire, but Hill’s new colleagues are more concerned, wondering exactly what they’ve let themselves in for. After a second foiled robbery, it becomes clear that Hill’s reputation has grown, but fellow guard Haiden (Holt McCallany), aka “Bullet”, begins to suspect there might be something darker going on … Ritchie is firing on all cylinders here, delivering a PERFECT slow-burn suspense thriller which plays its cards close to its chest and cranks up its piano wire tension with artful skill as it builds to a devastating, knuckle-whitening explosive heist that acts as a cathartic release for everything that’s built up over the past hour and a half. In typical Ritchie style the narrative is non-linear, the story unfolding in four distinct parts told from clearly differentiated points of view, allowing the clues to be revealed at a trickle that effortlessly draws the viewer in as they fall deeper down the rabbit hole, leading to a harrowing but strangely poignant denouement which is perfectly in tune with everything that’s come before. It’s an immense pleasure finally getting to see Statham working with Ritchie again, and I don’t think he’s ever been better than he is here – he's always been a brilliantly understated actor, but there’s SO MUCH going on under Hill’s supposedly impenetrable calm that every little peek beneath the armour is a REVELATION; McCallany, meanwhile, has landed his best role since his short but VERY sweet supporting turn in Fight Club, seemingly likeable and fallible as the kind of easy-going co-worker anyone in the service industry would be THRILLED to have, but giving Bullet far more going on under the surface, while there are uniformly excellent performances from a top-shelf ensemble supporting cast which includes Josh Hartnett, Jeffrey Donovan (Burn Notice, Sicario), Andy Garcia, Laz Alonso (The Boys), Eddie Marsan, Niamh Algar (Raised By Wolves) and Darrell D’Silva (Informer, Domina), and a particularly edgy and intense turn from Scott Eastwood. This is one of THE BEST thrillers of the year, by far, a masterpiece of mood, pace and plot that ensnares the viewer from its gripping opening and hooks them right up to the close, a triumph of the genre and EASILY Guy Ritchie’s best film since Snatch. Regardless of whether or not it’s a RETURN to form, we can only hope he continues to deliver fare THIS GOOD in the future …

5. FEAR STREET (PARTS 1-3) – Netflix have gotten increasingly ambitious with their original filmmaking over the years, and some of this years’ offerings have reached new heights of epic intention. Their most exciting release of the summer was this adaptation of popular children’s horror author R.L. Stine’s popular book series, a truly gargantuan undertaking as the filmmakers set out to create an entire TRILOGY of films which were then released over three consecutive weekends. Interestingly, these films are most definitely NOT for kids – this is proper, no-holds-barred supernatural slasher horror, delivering highly calibrated shocks and precision jump scares, a pervading atmosphere of insidious dread and a series of inventively gruesome kills. The story revolves around two neighbouring small towns which have had vastly different fortunes over more than three centuries of existence – while the residents of Sunnyvale are unusually successful, living idyllic lives in peace and prosperity, luck has always been against the people of Shadyside, who languish in impoverishment, crime and misfortune, while the town has become known as the Murder Capital of the USA due to frequent spree killings. Some attribute this to the supposed curse of a local urban legend, Sarah Fier, who became known as the Fier Witch after her execution for witchcraft in 1668, but others dismiss this as simple superstition. Part 1 is set in 1994, as the latest outbreak of serial mayhem begins in Shadyside, dragging a small group of local teens – Deena Johnson (She Never Died’s Kiana Madeira) and Samantha Fraser (Olivia Scott Welch), a young lesbian couple going through a difficult breakup, Deena’s little brother Josh (The Haunted Hathaways’ Benjamin Flores Jr.), a nerdy history geek who spends most of his time playing video games or frequenting violent crime-buff online chatrooms, and their delinquent friends Simon (Eight Grade’s Fred Hechinger) and Kate (Julia Rehwald) – into the age-old ghostly conspiracy as they find themselves besieged by indestructible undead serial killers from the town’s past, reasoning that the only way they can escape with their lives is to solve the mystery and bring the Fier Witch some much needed closure. Part 2, meanwhile, flashes back to a previous outbreak in 1977, in which local sisters Ziggy (Stranger Things’ Sadie Sink) and Cindy Berman (Emily Rudd), together with future Sunnyvale sheriff Nick Goode (Ted Sutherland) were among the kids hunted by said killers during a summer camp “colour war”. As for Part 3, that goes all the way back to 1668 to tell the story of what REALLY happened to Sarah Fier, before wrapping up events in 1994, culminating in a terrifying, adrenaline-fuelled showdown in the Shadyside Mall. Throughout, the youthful cast are EXCEPTIONAL, Madeira, Welch, Flores Jr., Sink and Rudd particularly impressing, while there are equally strong turns from Ashley Zuckerman (The Code, Designated Survivor) and Community’s Gillian Jacobs as the grown-up versions of two key ’77 kids, and a fun cameo from Maya Hawke in Part 1. This is most definitely retro horror in the Stranger Things mould, perfectly executed period detail bringing fun nostalgic flavour to all three of the timelines while the peerless direction from Leigh Janiak (Honeymoon) and wire-tight, sharp-witted screenplays from Janiak, Kyle Killen (Lone Star, The Beaver), Phil Graziadel, Zak Olkewicz and Kate Trefry strike a perfect balance between knowing dark humour and knife-edged terror, as well as weaving an intriguingly complex narrative web that pulls the viewer in but never loses them to overcomplication. The design, meanwhile, is evocative, the cinematography (from Stanger Things’ Caleb Heymann) is daring and magnificently moody, and the killers and other supernatural elements of the film are handled with skill through largely physical effects. This is definitely not a standard, by-the-numbers slasher property, paying strong homage to the sub-genre’s rules but frequently subverting them with expert skill, and it’s as much fun as it is frightening. Give us some more like this please, Netflix!

4. THE SPARKS BROTHERS – those who’ve been following my reviews for a while will known that while I do sometimes shout about documentary films, they tend to show up in my runners-up lists – it’s a great rarity for one to land in one of my top tens. This lovingly crafted deep-dive homage to cult band Sparks, from self-confessed rabid fanboy Edgar Wright (Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, Scott Pilgrim), is something VERY SPECIAL INDEED, then … there’s a vague possibility some of you may have heard the name before, and many of you will know at least one or two of their biggest hits without knowing it was them (their greatest hit of all time, This Town Ain’t Big Enough for the Both of Us, immediately springs to mind), but unless you’re REALLY serious about music it’s quite likely you have no idea who they are, namely two brothers from California, Russell and Ronald Mael, who formed a very sophisticated pop-rock band in the late 60s and then never really went away, having moments of fame but mostly working away in the background and influencing some of the greatest bands and musical artists that followed them, even if many never even knew where that influence originally came from. Wright’s film is an engrossing joy from start to finish (despite clocking in at two hours and twenty minutes), following their eclectic career from obscure inception as Halfnelson, through their first real big break with third album Kimono My Place, subsequent success and then fall from popularity in the mid-70s, through several subsequent revitalisations, all the way up to the present day with their long-awaited cinematic breakthrough, revolutionary musical feature Annette – throughout Wright keeps the tone light and the pace breezy, allowing a strong and endearing sense of irreverence to rule the day as fans, friends and the brothers themselves offer up fun anecdotes and wax lyrical about what is frequently a larger-than-life tragicomic soap opera, utilising fun, crappy animation and idiosyncratic stock footage inserts alongside talking-head interviews that were made with a decidedly tongue-in-cheek style – Mike Myers good-naturedly rants about how we can see his “damned mole” while 80s New Romantic icons Nick Rhodes and John Taylor, while shot together, are each individually labelled as “Duran”. Ron and Russ themselves, meanwhile, are clearly having huge fun, gently ribbing each other and dropping some fun deadpan zingers throughout proceedings, easily playing to the band’s strong, idiosyncratic sense of hyper-intelligent humour, while the aforementioned celebrity talking-heads are just three amongst a whole wealth of famous faces that may surprise you – there’s even an appearance by Neil Gaiman, guys! Altogether this is 2+ hours of bright and breezy fun chock full of great music and fascinating information, and even hardcore Sparks fans are likely to learn more than a little over the course of the film, while for those who have never heard of Sparks before it’s a FANTASTIC introduction to one of the greatest ever bands that you’ve never heard of. With luck there might even be more than a few new fans before the year is out …

3. GUNPOWDER MILKSHAKE – Netflix’ BEST offering of the summer was this surprise hit from Israeli writer-director Navot Papushado (Rabies, Big Bad Wolves), a heavily stylised black comedy action thriller that passes the Bechdel Test with FLYING COLOURS. Playing like a female-centric John Wick, it follows ice-cold, on-top-of-her-game assassin Sam (Karen Gillan) as her latest assignment has some unfortunate side effects, leading her to take on a reparation job to retrieve some missing cash for the local branch of the Irish Mob. The only catch is that a group of thugs have kidnapped the original thief’s little girl, 12 year-old Emily (My Spy’s Chloe Coleman), and Sam, in an uncharacteristic moment of sympathy, decides to intervene, only for the money to be accidentally destroyed in the process. Now she’s got the Mob and her own employers coming after her, and she not only has to save her own skin but also Emily’s, leading her to seek help from the one person she thought she might never see again – her mother, Scarlet (Lena Headey), a master assassin in her own right who’s been hiding from the Mob herself for years. The plot may be simple but at times also a little over-the-top, but the film is never anything less than a pure, unadulterated pleasure, populated with fascinating, living and breathing characters of real complexity and nuance, while the script (co-written by relative newcomer Ehud Lavski) is tightly-reined and bursting with zingers. Most importantly, though, Papushado really delivers on the action front – these are some of the best set-pieces I’ve seen this year, Gillan, her co-stars and the various stunt-performers acquitting themselves admirably in a series of spectacular fights, gun battles and a particularly imaginative car chase that would be the envy of many larger, more expensive productions. Gillan and Coleman have a sweet, awkward chemistry, the MCU star particularly impressing in a subtly nuanced performance that also plays beautifully against Headey’s own tightly controlled turn, while there is awesome support from Angela Bassett, Michelle Yeoh and Carla Gugino as Sam’s adoptive aunts Anna May, Florence and Madeleine, a trio of “librarians” who run a fine side-line in illicit weaponry and are capable of unleashing some spectacular violence of their own; the film’s antagonists, on the other hand, are exclusively masculine – the mighty Ralph Inneson is quietly ruthless as Irish boss Jim McAlester, while The Terror’s Adam Nagaitis is considerably more mercurial as his mad dog nephew Virgil, and Paul Giamatti is the stately calm at the centre of the storm as Sam’s employer Nathan, the closest thing she has to a father. There’s so much to enjoy in this movie, not just the wonderful characters and amazing action but also the singularly engrossing and idiosyncratic style, deeply affecting themes of the bonds of found family and the healing power of forgiveness, and a rewarding through-line of strong women triumphing against the brutalities of toxic masculinity. I love this film, and I invite you to try it out, cuz I’m sure you will too.

2. THE SUICIDE SQUAD – the most fun I’ve had at the cinema so far this year is the long-awaited (thanks a bunch, COVID) redress of another frustrating imbalance from the decidedly hit and miss DCEU superhero franchise, in which Guardians of the Galaxy writer-director James Gunn has finally delivered a PROPER Suicide Squad movie after David Ayer’s painfully compromised first stab at the property back in 2016. That movie was enjoyable enough and had some great moments, but ultimately it was a clunky mess, and while some of the characters were done (quite) well, others were painfully botched, even ruined entirely. Thankfully Warner Bros. clearly learned their lesson, giving Gunn free reign to do whatever he wanted, and the end result is about as close to perfect as the DCEU has come to date. Once again the peerless Viola Davis plays US government official Amanda Waller, head of ARGUS and the undisputable most evil bitch in all the DC Universe, who presides over the metahuman prisoners of the notorious supermax Belle Reve Prison, cherry-picking inmates for her pet project Taskforce X, the titular Suicide Squad sent out to handle the kind of jobs nobody else wants, in exchange for years off their sentences but controlled by explosive implants injected into the base of their skulls. Their latest mission sees another motley crew of D-bags dispatched to the fictional South African island nation of Corto Maltese to infiltrate Jotunheim, a former Nazi facility in which a dangerous extra-terrestrial entity that’s being developed into a fearful bioweapon, with orders to destroy the project in order to keep it out of the hands of a hostile anti-American regime which has taken control of the island through a violent coup. Where the first Squad felt like a clumsily-arranged selection of stereotypes with a few genuinely promising characters unsuccessfully moulded into a decidedly forced found family, this new batch are convincingly organic – they may be dysfunctional and they’re all almost universally definitely BAD GUYS, but they WORK, the relationship dynamics that form between them feeling genuinely earned. Gunn has already proven himself a master of putting a bunch of A-holes together and forging them into band of “heroes”, and he’s certainly pulled the job off again here, dredging the bottom of the DC Rogues Gallery for its most ridiculous Z-listers and somehow managing to make them compelling. Sure, returning Squad-member Harley Quinn (the incomparable Margot Robbie, magnificent as ever) has already become a fully-realised character thanks to Birds of Prey, so there wasn’t much heavy-lifting to be done here, but Gunn genuinely seems to GET the character, so our favourite pixie-esque Agent of Chaos is an unbridled and thoroughly unpredictable joy here, while fellow veteran Colonel Rick Flagg (a particularly muscular and thoroughly game Joel Kinnaman) has this time received a much needed makeover, Gunn promoting him from being the first film’s sketchily-drawn “Captain Exposition” and turning him into a fully-ledged, well-thought-out human being with all the requisite baggage, including a newfound sense of humour; the newcomers, meanwhile, are a thoroughly fascinating bunch – reluctant “leader” Bloodsport/Robert DuBois (a typically robust and playful Idris Elba), unapologetic douchebag Peacemaker/Christopher Smith (probably the best performance I’ve EVER seen John Cena deliver), and socially awkward and seriously hard-done-by nerd (and by far the most idiotic DC villain of all time) the Polka-Dot Man/Abner Krill (a genuinely heart-breaking hangdog performance from Ant-Man’s David Dastmalchian); meanwhile there’s a fine trio of villainous turns from the film’s resident Big Bads, with Juan Diego Botta (Good Behaviour) and Joaquin Cosio (Quantum of Solace, Narcos: Mexico) making strong impressions as newly-installed dictator Silvio Luna and his corrupt right hand-man General Suarez, although both are EASILY eclipsed by the typically brilliant Peter Capaldi as louche and quietly deranged supervillain The Thinker/Gaius Greives (although the film’s ULTIMATE threat turns out to be something a whole lot bigger and more exotic). The film is ROUNDLY STOLEN, however, by a truly adorable double act (or TRIPLE act, if you want to get technical) – Daniella Melchior makes her breakthrough here in fine style as sweet, principled and kind-hearted narcoleptic second-generation supervillain Ratcatcher II/Cleo Cazo, who has the weird ability to control rats (and who has a pet rat named Sebastian who frequently steals scenes all on his own), while a particular fan-favourite B-lister makes his big screen debut here in the form of King Shark/Nanaue, a barely sentient anthropomorphic Great White “shark god” with an insatiable appetite for flesh and a naturally quizzical nature who was brilliantly mo-capped by Steve Agee (The Sarah Silverman Project, who also plays Waller’s hyperactive assistant John Economos) but then artfully completed with an ingenious vocal turn from Sylvester Stallone. James Gunn has crafted an absolute MASTERPIECE here, EASILY the best film he’s made to date, a riotous cavalcade of exquisitely observed and perfectly delivered dark humour and expertly wrangled narrative chaos that has great fun playing with the narrative flow, injects countless spot-on in-jokes and irreverent but utterly essential throwaway sight-gags, and totally endears us to this glorious gang of utter morons right from the start (in which Gunn delivers what has to be one of the most skilful deep-fakes in cinematic history). Sure, there’s also plenty of action, and it’s executed with the kind of consummate skill we’ve now come to expect from Gunn (the absolute highlight is a wonderfully bonkers sequence in which Harley expertly rescues herself from captivity), but like everything else it’s predominantly played for laughs, and there’s no getting away from the fact that this film is an absolute RIOT. By far the funniest thing I’ve seen so far this year, and if I’m honest this is the best of the DCEU offerings to date, too (for me, only the exceptional Birds of Prey can compare) – if Warner Bros. have any sense they’ll give Gunn more to do VERY SOON …

1. A QUIET PLACE, PART II – while UK cinemas finally reopened in early May, I was determined that my first trip back to the Big Screen for 2021 was gonna be something SPECIAL, and indeed I already knew what that was going to be. Thankfully I was not disappointed by my choice – 2018’s A Quiet Place was MY VERY FAVOURITE horror movie of the 2010s, an undeniable masterclass in suspense and sustained screen terror wrapped around a refreshingly original killer concept, and I was among the many fans hoping we’d see more in the future, especially after the film’s teasingly open ending. Against the odds (or perhaps not), writer-director/co-star John Krasinski has pulled off the seemingly impossible task of not only following up that high-wire act, but genuinely EQUALLING it in levels of quality – picking up RIGHT where the first film left off (at least after an AMAZING scene-setting opening in which we’re treated to the events of Day 1 of the downfall of humanity), rejoining the remnants of the Abbott family as they’re forced by circumstances to up-sticks from their idyllic farmhouse home and strike out into the outside world once more, painfully aware at all times that they must maintain perfect silence to avoid the ravenous attentions of the lethal blind alien beasties that now sit at the top of the food chain. Circumstances quickly become dire, however, and embattled mother Evelyn (Emily Blunt) is forced to ally herself with estranged family friend Emmett (Cillian Murphy), now a haunted, desperate vagrant eking out a perilous existence in an abandoned factory, in order to safeguard the future of her children Regan (Millicent Simmonds), Marcus (Noah Jupe) and their newborn baby brother. Regan, however, discovers evidence of more survivors, and with her newfound weapon against the aliens she recklessly decides to set off on her own in the hopes of aiding them before it’s too late … it may only be his second major blockbuster as a director, but Krasinski has once again proven he’s a true heavyweight talent, effortlessly carving out fresh ground in this already magnificently well-realised dystopian universe while also playing magnificently to the established strengths of what came before, delivering another peerless thrill-ride of unbearable tension and knuckle-whitening terror. The central principle of utilising sound at a very strict premium is once again strictly adhered to here, available sources of dialogue once again exploited with consummate skill while sound design and score (another moody triumph from Marco Beltrami) again become THE MOST IMPORTANT aspects of the whole production. The ruined world is once again realised beautifully throughout, most notably in the nightmarish environment of a wrecked commuter train, and Krasinski cranks up the tension before unleashing it in merciless explosions in a selection of harrowing encounters which guaranteed to leave viewers in a puddle of sweat. The director mostly stays behind the camera this time round, but he does (obviously) put in an appearance in the opening flashback as the late Lee Abbott, making a potent impression which leaves a haunting absence that’s keenly felt throughout the remainder of the film, while Blunt continues to display mother lion ferocity as she fights to keep her children safe and Jupe plays crippling fear magnificently but is now starting to show a hidden spine of steel as Marcus finally starts to find his courage; the film once again belongs, however, to Simmonds, the young deaf actress once and for all proving she’s a genuine star in the making as she invests Regan with fierce wilfulness and stubborn determination that remains unshakeable even in the face of unspeakable horrors, and the relationship she develops with Emmett, reluctant as it may be, provides a strong new emotional focus for the story, Murphy bringing an attractive wounded humanity to his role as a man who’s lost anything and is being forced to learn to care for something again. This is another triumph of the genre AND the artform in general, a masterpiece of atmosphere, performance and storytelling which builds magnificently on the skilful foundations laid by the first film, as well as setting things up perfectly for a third instalment which is all but certain to follow. I definitely can’t wait.

#movies 2021 #werewolves within #werewolves within movie #the tomorrow war #army of the dead #Black Widow #black widow movie #black widow mcu #wrath of man #fear street #fear street trilogy #fear street movies #The Sparks Brothers #gunpowder milkshake #the suicide squad #a quiet place part ii #a quiet place part 2 #awesome sauce

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Goof Week: House of Mouse: Super Goof or Wish I Could Fly Like Super Goof (Patreon Review for WeirdKev27)

Hello all you happy gorshers and welcome back to Goof Week, my week long celebration of Goofy’s 89th Birthday. And today I take my once a month trip down to the house of mouse as part of my patron kev’s yearlong celebration of the show’s 20th anniversary. And since I had this theme week in mind I asked him if it’d be okay if he strictly randomized goofy episodes, he said yes and here we are.

Luck was on my side as I got what I remembered was one of my faviorite episodes of the show. But before I can get if it lived up to the hype or not a brief word on Super Goof.

Super Goof is actually from the comics, first debuting in a story where Goofy thought he had super powers and fought the Phantom Blot in a cowboy hat.

This concept was a hit so in 1965 Goofy was made a superhero for real with Super Goof #1. This dosen’t suprise me: this was the height of the silver age: The Lee and Kirby age of Marvel was in full swing and DC was still doing gangbusters. So there was market for a superhero spoof comic starring one of Disney’s best and brightest characters, who was given a bunch of super peanuts called super goobers to give him superman powers. What DOES surprise me is the series lasted 74 issues from 65-84. And what’s more insane and wonderful? It didn’t get canceled because of low sales or anything. That was simply when Gold Key shut down... and Gold Key was FOUNDED three years before it meaning this book lasted the company’s ENTIRE lifespan. I’ll say that again, a book about goofy eating peanuts that started because of a story where goofy thought he was a superhero and fought a cowboy phantom blot, lasted 74 issues and only ended because the publisher shut down. That... is one of the most amazing things I have ever heard in my life. I’m genuinely impressed... this isn’t even a bad concept, I likes it and wish Disney would give it a full series. Farmer could do wonders with it. I’m just amazed that this odball little comic took off like it did. And as one final fun fact much like Superman, Super Goof set off the trend of Disney’s classic characters becoming heroes, with Donald’s own Papernik/Duck Avenger following in his footsteps. I REALLY want a Disney Superhero Verse in animatoin now, I know there was a mini series like that. And I will have to visit these comics at some point I just simply didn’t have room in the week with a movie review tomorrow. .

So with all that out of the way how does Super Goof do on screen and does the episode hold up? Join me under the cut to find out.

As usual for HOM I’ll be doing the shorts and overarching story seperate soooo

How To To Take Care of Your Yard:

Look anyone whose read my stuff or even just my goofy shorts special will know how much I love the How To Shorts and how this series is responsible. This admittedly isn’t one of the BEST of them.. but it’s still fun to watch. Even a forgettable How To Short is still GOOD. It’s abotu Goofy taking care of his yard over the four seasons and has some decent gags but nothing really standout. I Honestly DO wish I had more to say but this one’s just okay and it woudln’t stick out as much if both the wraparound and the other short weren’t so spectacular. Speaking of which.

Locksmiths: This is one of the few shorts I VIVIDLY remembered from childhood and for damn good reason. This is THE best short i’ve seen so far for House of Mouse this year and for good reason. The premise is simple enough: The Golden Trio are locksmiths.. who end up getting locked inside their own office just after Minnie calls with something urgent to tell them.

The results are comic gold, with the standout bits being Goofy’s keys which is just such a wonderful hurricane of puns with some great visual gags to start it off that I can’t help but love it

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There’s TONS of other good stuff too: The boys fishing for the key, Mickey opening a ton of doors in a sequence MST3K would be proud of and the finale with the boys falling out the office. This is a true , hilarious classic and my words can’t really do it justice. Seek this one out on it’s own or in the episode you will not regret it. A true classic for Disney Shorts period.

Super Goof:

So onto the main story. Goofy asks Clarabelle out and she’s not only incredibly receptive but simply asks to check her schedule.. which he interprets as no. I would make a joke here but i’ts clear from previous episodes HOM goofy has Low Self Esteem: he was utterly crushed not having a valentine and by his friends all wishing he could be less Goofy. So him overreacting like this is in character and comes off as endearing: it’s not that he thinks so low of her he’d think sh’ed pull something like this.. it’s that he’s so doubtful of someone liking him for who he is deep down he self sabotages something I can PAINFULLY relate to as that’s one of my biggest personal issues hands down.

So outside presumably on break...

Not THAT kind of break. Though since I bring it up: they both were wrong. They WERE on a break, and it was wrong of tweedle dee and tweedle dum there to keep needling it ESPECIALLY since their the ones who TOLD HIM to hide his sleeping with the waitress and took NO responsibility for that. Rachel treating it like an affair constantly when she’s the one who wanted space and didn’t give him any paramerters for said is fucking terrible. It’s telling that in the reunion trailer everyone but Matthew LeBlanc, who was clearly just having some fun agreed they were. That being said Ross still slept with someone five seconds after being on said break, still listneed to the two of them on hiding it when it was a bad idea, and STILL caused said break by being a clingy asshole to such a degree even his previous history of being cheated on does not justify or excuse how badly he treated Rachel. What i’m saying is they both sucked, and thus deserved each other, and by the end NEITHER was remotely likeable, with both having done terrible things both in said will they or won’t they hellscape and outside it, with Ross dating a student and Rachel dating her assistant.

Anyways after that thing I clearly needed to get off my chest, we get a narration informing us a METEOR IS COMING and it strikes the peanuts Goofy’s depression snacking on, as a result he becomes SUPER GOOF! And after a display of his powers with various disney characters (finding Gepetto and Pinocchio in a whale, saving the dalmations from cruella , lifting the giant from the littlest tailor) and finds he has a narrator. No really Goofy notices and is not happy about it despite all superheros having one. I mean he’s not wrong, look what the X-Men’s did to Cyclops:

But regardless he has him and Goofy flies through the air with the quickest of ease through the house of mouse impressing everyone who has no idea he’s goofy. This gag is a carry over from the comics and a transparent parody of the superman clark kent thing. But it works because Goofy still uses his name in costume, still has his hat and really changes nothing about his appearance. It’s simple but sometimes you just need a very simple gag to work and overxplaning it spoils the whole thing. Trust me I know as a certified experinced fuck up.

So after the first cartoon Super Goofy guest stars, and we get some neat gags with the disney movie characters, though my faviorite is Peter Pan’s reactoin of “He Can fly he can fly he can fly, big deal. Anyone can do that”. It’s both perfectly in character and utterly hilarious.

Goofy however starts to feel disheartneed as everyone compliments him.. and Minnie says he’s better than a regular goofy as do the others minus Mickey because he’s a good egg. And Clarabelle but he misinertperts her like of super goof as her liking him better as that.

So fed up with everyone liking him better, Goofy throws away the peanuts, which he kept in his hat.. though one did fall in his waiter’s uniform. Remember that. The narrator questions if this is really the end and what if there’s peril but Goofy’s stubbornly instiant he won’t do it no matter what.

Cue the what: another MUCH LARGER metor heading straight for Mainstreet

Goofy refuses to summon super goof despite the danger... Mickey has an apt response for him

This is the one scene I don’t really like: Goofy has a righ tto be upset they all prefer someone who just showed up hours ago over him, especially beceause it IS him, to the point Daisy was upset she got a picture of goofy instead of super goofy because J Jonah Jameson’s not going to pay for pictures of his next door neighbor. But Mickey has a right to not want to die horribly in a cataclysm of fire.

So Goofy mopes off like his son to go save the world, fine whatever. Only as is cartoon law, the trash has been picked up meaning he dosen’t have any goobers.. except the CHEKOVS GOOBER. With it he chews it, flies up and has a truly impressive display holding it back while it’s just over clarabelle before dispoising of it. he hits on her in super form but she says she already has date with regular goofy. Goofy’s confidence is restored, he’s probably getting laid tonight and we close on a Mike add for a school for Goofy’s. How much is tution.. asking for a me.

Final Thoughts: This wraparound was great, a few small flaws but it has a great, engaging charcter driven story with some delightfully silly jokes that are right up my ally. It’s easy to see besides my love of superheroes why this one stood out to me: It’s funny, heartwrenching and stars one of my faviorite character.

The shorts are also good, one that’s okay , a bit too long but not bad, and one that’s an utter masterpiece. In fact the only reason the first short feels so long is you really want to get back to the main plot fast, and that’s not a bad problem to have. This was an excellen tepisode and I recommend seeing it out.

Before I get to my whole patreon speil, i’d like to say that House of Mouse STILL is not avaliable on Disney+ for reasons that haven’t been made clear. As such it’s on my Not Streaming List, a list I keep and update reguarly of shows that SHOULD be streaming on a particular service and have no clear reason NOT to be such as musical rights issues like the ones likely keeping shows like Drew Carrey, Northern Exposure and Murphy Brown off streaming. So check that out if your curious, link is on my main page and hit me up if you have any suggestoins for it.

So thank you for reading and if you liked this review give it a like and consider joining my patreon at patreon.com/popculturebuffet. As a patron you’d get access to exclusive reviews, the patreon’s discord and to pick a short each time I do one of these shortstaculars. Donald’s comnig next month and the deadline is in only a few days to join up for said month so the clock is ticking. Even a dollar a month helps me reach my stretch goals so please i fyou can sign up today and if not, I understand and i’ll see you at the next rainbow

#goofy #goofy goof #clarabelle cow #house of mouse #mickey mouse #donald duck #minnie mouse #daisy duck #superheroes #super goof #goof week

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ollieofthebeholder · 3 years

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leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3.

Chapter 35: Sasha

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Jon asks anxiously.

“I’m fine, Jon,” Sasha says for what feels like the tenth time in the last three minutes. “Phone’s fully charged, so is my laptop. The trapdoor is unlocked and I can get there from my desk in fifteen seconds flat, I’ve timed it. And if all else fails”—she waves her tape recorder at him—“I’ve got this, so there will at least be a record of whatever happens to me.”

Jon frowns. “That’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” Sasha sighs.

It’s not that she doesn’t appreciate that her boss has her best interests at heart. She does. And they’re all friends, and that helps too. But Jon’s paranoia has been back in full force since his encounter with Nikola Orsinov. Tim and Martin are fairly good at tempering it, from what she’s noticed, but he still jumps at small noises and insists they stay together in pairs whenever possible. She doesn’t blame him, especially after they tell the Primes what happened and Jon Prime nearly has a panic attack before he manages to pull himself together. The situation feels like it’s balanced on the edge of a razor blade separating a lake of fire on one side and a bottomless pit on the other—like their choices are to maintain the balance and risk bleeding out before they can get to the other side, or fall to one side or the other and trust in a rescue.

Sasha can admit, if only to herself, that she’s curious about what a lake of fire might feel like to swim in, or if a bottomless hole is truly bottomless, but she’s not going to doom the whole world just to see what happens if she does.

“Jon. It’s okay,” she repeats. “It’s ten in the morning. The building is full of people. I’ll be as safe as I can be. Besides, someone’s got to be here in case someone wants to see what we do in the basement or Elias decides to stop lurking in the shadows and come down to cause havoc. You three have had this planned for weeks.” Raising her voice a little, she adds, “And someone’s got to stop Tim from attempting to fistfight the waxworks because he thinks they’re going to attack.”

“Shut up, Sasha,” Tim calls from the other side of the Archives, where he’s reshelving his files.

Jon smiles, if a bit reluctantly. “And we do both need to be there, if he’s serious about…all right. Just promise you’ll be careful.”

“Cross my heart.” Sasha returns the smile. “You three be careful, too. If I hear about any of you on the twelve o’clock news, I’ll—”

“Disavow any knowledge of us and refuse our phone calls from jail?” Martin supplies as he returns from wherever he’s been and picks up his jacket.

Sasha snorts. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m going to milk my association with you for all it’s worth. Can you imagine how much the media would pay for an exclusive interview with a close friend of the Waxwork Assassins?”

Jon’s laugh sounds a little unwilling, but from the slight easing in the tension in his shoulders, Sasha guesses she hit the right note. She can’t make him smile as easily as Martin or Tim can, but every once in a while she manages it.

“Don’t work too hard,” Tim says, clapping her on the shoulder as he passes.

“I intend to break out the champagne as soon as you leave,” Sasha shoots back. “Go. Have fun. Try not to punch anything.”

“See you tomorrow, Sasha,” Martin says.

Sasha walks them to the door of the Archives and waves as they set off, Tim on one side and Martin on the other. It’s one of those arbitrary Saturdays Elias has once a quarter where he declares the Institute open to anyone, not just academics, which means they’re all supposed to be in until noon. He always declares them less than a week in advance, though, and Sasha’s fellow team members have already made plans to spend a few hours at Madame Tussauds; partly it’s that they want to see if they can figure out what the Not-Sasha was doing there in the Primes’ time, partly it’s that none of them ever really go off and do anything fun outside their house and they frankly deserve it. Sasha also knows that Tim is going to practice what he’s been learning, about targeting his vision. She’s not sure if that’s knowledge granted to her by the Eye or if she just knows Tim well enough to have figured it out; either way, she wonders if Jon and Martin are aware of it and if she should have warned them. Then she recalls Jon’s half-finished sentence and mentally kicks herself. Of course Jon and Martin are aware of what Tim’s planning. He’s trying to be better about communicating—they all are—so of course he would have told them, probably when he booked their tickets for today. He probably just forgot she hadn’t been part of the conversation.

She heads back to her desk and tells herself not to worry. They’ll be fine.

Settling in at her computer, she goes back to the research she’s doing on this current statement. Martin’s new cross-indexing system pulled up several potential matches, and she’s digging to see if any of it pans out. (Although, considering the nature of the statement, maybe she shouldn’t use phrases like that.) It’s definitely a Flesh statement; unlike the others, which can be more subtle, the Flesh is blatantly obvious when it turns up.

After a few minutes, though, she gives up. She does not have the stomach for this, not today. Instead, she clicks through a few layers of security until she’s in her private, hidden part of her laptop and her private research project. She’s got a few notes to dictate, and she doesn’t like taking work home with her, so she scoops up her laptop and the new tape recorder that matches her nails and retreats to the depths of Document Storage. They prefer doing their unofficial tapes…not on the main floor. It makes them feel a little better, she supposes.

It’s Martin who carved out the space in the boxes, carefully shuffling them around until there’s a little niche just wide enough for a comfortable chair, with an extra box missing from the layer so there’s somewhere to set drinks or notes as the case may be. It’s Tim who found the worn but sturdy armchair at a charity shop, and, surprisingly, it’s Jon who bought what is possibly the world’s tackiest slipcover, what Sasha can only class as “electric paisley”. Tim claims it looks exactly like what he sees when he looks at the shelves in the Archives, but only to Sasha and Martin; he doesn’t even joke about it in front of Jon. Sasha can’t decide if it’s sweet or something she should be concerned about.

She settles into the armchair, legs folded into the lotus position beneath her, and sets her laptop on the note box, then clicks on her tape recorder.

“Research of Sasha James, Archival assistant at the Magnus Institute, regarding the heads of the Institute, past and present,” she says. “Recorded eleventh February, 2017. Notes on Director Thomas Fitzwalter, fourth Head of the Institute, tenure 1940 to 1941.”

At least she doesn’t have a lot of people to look into. In some ways, her self-appointed task is easier than Tim’s or Martin’s, just because the scope is so much tighter. In other ways, of course, it’s harder. Tim only needs to work with himself, and Martin’s index is entirely self-contained within the Archives and their ongoing research. Sasha may only have a total of seven people to actually look into, but they’re hard to pin down. Partly it’s their age; records that predate digital record-keeping are trickier to search, as she has to hope they’ve been indexed online or find a library that might have the resources she needs. Partly it’s the fact that, well, they’re men who were only nominally themselves and were actually Jonah Magnus. Naturally he wouldn’t want people looking too closely at them.

But she’s struck, as she describes the details she’s been able to pull up about the man who had the shortest tenure as Institute Head due to what was either a poorly-timed or well-timed German bomb, by just how unremarkable all of the people she’s looked into were. None of them were standouts in their field, students from prestigious universities, or the scions of powerful families—which has to be a first in academia. She’s working her way backwards, so maybe she’ll find something different with the two men between Jonah Magnus and Thomas Fitzwalter, but so far, not a single one of them has been remotely distinguished, and in any other institute it would be a shock for them to ascend to head it up. Especially so quickly.

“I’m kind of curious as to why the Eye didn’t warn Fitzwalter about the attack in time to get under cover,” she muses. “I’m still doing research into him, so it’s possible he just wasn’t very likable or intelligent, but—”

“Hello?”

“Shit,” Sasha hisses. It’s not one of her boys—or Elias, which is a plus—but that means it’s someone she needs to deal with. “End recording.”

She snaps off the tape, pockets the recorder, closes her laptop, and hastens out to the main Archives with a smile plastered on her face. It falters when she sees who’s standing there—none other than P.C. Basira Hussain, arms folded tightly across her chest. Sasha is ready to get defensive, but then she takes a closer look at her face. She looks…grim is one word for it. Haunted is another. Gutted might come closest.

“Officer Hussain?” she says cautiously.

Basira makes a good effort at glaring at her, but it’s not particularly intimidating. “Was looking for J—Sims.”

“He’s out today,” Sasha answers. “It’s just me, I’m afraid. Can I help you?”

Basira makes a noncommittal noise. “That happen often? Them leaving you to hold down the fort on your own?”

“No, usually there are at least two of us around at all times, especially these days. But we’re also not usually here on Saturdays,” Sasha says. “Open house. Director Bouchard”—she says his name in the clipped, precise, tight-lipped manner of a woman in a male-dominated industry speaking of a superior who would like to keep it that way—“scheduled it somewhat last-minute, and the others already had plans for the afternoon.”

“And they made you stay, did they? Typical men.”

“Actually, I offered. I’ve taken more days off in the last year than all three of them put together, not counting when Martin was out on medical leave after his stint as a colander.”

Basira almost smiles. Sasha sets her laptop on her desk and comes closer. “Okay, I’ve got to ask—is this a professional visit or a personal one? Not like that,” she adds quickly when Basira stiffens. “I know you’re not—Jon doesn’t seem like your type. I just meant—are you here as a cop or…?”

“No, it’s…” Basira sighs heavily. “Just needed to talk to him, I guess. I called yesterday and—”

Sasha remembers now. Jon came out of his office and had Martin pull up all the cases they’ve come across involving the name Maxwell Rayner. “Yeah, I—he mentioned that.”

“He did,” Basira says flatly.

Shit, they’re not supposed to know Basira is feeding him those tapes…but then Sasha thinks, to hell with it. “Yeah. It’s hard to keep secrets around here, you know? Turns out we’re all developing spooky supernatural powers, and mine is that sometimes I know things without knowing how I know them. I mean, sometimes I can Know things on purpose, but mostly it’s just passing by someone and accidentally plucking a secret out of their brain without meaning to. Let me tell you, I did not need to know that the man behind the counter at my favorite coffee shop has a foot fetish.”

“I dunno, that might be useful in the summer if you’re the type to wear sandals.” Basira relaxes, just a fraction, which surprises Sasha more than a little. “What did he say?”

“Just that you’d called and asked about Maxwell Rayner. Look, have a seat, you look like you’re about to fall over. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? There’s some peppermint hot cocoa, too, if that strikes your fancy.” Sasha means it—Basira does look like she needs some fortification, and maybe to talk and get something off her chest—but if she’s being honest, she’s also burning with curiosity about what happened. She’s got to be careful about bringing that up, though. “Sorry we don’t have anything stronger, but, you know, we’re pretending to be professional.”

“Actually, that cocoa doesn’t sound too bad,” Basira mutters. She drops into Tim’s chair and leans her folded arms on his desk, staring at the surface like it holds the secrets of the universe.

Sasha hurries over to their tea station and pulls out one of the spare mugs they rarely use, along with the mug that long ago became hers. Cocoa sounds good, actually. It was grey and overcast when she came in, and she Knows without meaning to that it’s just barely warm enough that it’s raining instead of snowing, so it’s a good day for cocoa. She gives a fleeting thought to wondering if the Primes are warm enough in the stone tunnels, then goes back to making the cocoa.

“Here,” she says, handing the guest mug to Basira. “Made with water, not milk, but I mix a little bit of creamer into it. Works a treat.”

“Thanks,” Basira mutters.

As Sasha takes her seat, she notices her tape recorder sitting on her desk. It was definitely in her pocket a minute ago, and she definitely didn’t take it out, but there it is, innocuously resting next to her laptop. And, she notices, it’s running.

It’s not really a surprise, in some ways. Obviously Basira has a statement, and obviously it’s the real McCoy. It just startles Sasha that the tape recorder turned itself on…and for her. She sort of figured that only happens for Jon. It’s honestly a bit of a thrill, knowing that whatever is behind these tapes recognizes her.

She collects herself. “I take it that…whatever you were asking about Rayner for didn’t go well?”

Basira takes a long drink of her cocoa. “We lost Altman. Just…wasn’t paying attention. Don’t know what they’re going to tell his family. Guess it could have been worse, though, if I hadn’t talked to your boss first, so…tell him I said thanks.”

Sasha reaches over and squeezes Basira’s free hand as comfortingly as she can. Surprisingly, Basira grips it back. “Do you want to talk about it? I mean…I know you’re probably bound by all kinds of confidential agreements and all that, but you can ask any of the others, I’m really good at keeping secrets. We’re trying not to keep secrets from each other, but if you tell me not to say anything to them, I won’t. Just between you and me and whatever’s at the other end of the tape recorder that I absolutely did not turn on myself, by the way. Did you?”

Basira stares at it. “Fuck. Didn’t even notice it was on.” She takes a deep breath. “You know, I—I think I do want to talk about it. Don’t even care if you tell the others, or play them the tape or whatever, just…I need to talk to someone, I think. And with all those Section Thirty-One forms, this is probably the only place I can talk about it. Sure the only place I can talk about it and not feel crazy.”

Sasha nods. “Be glad you didn’t come in a year, year and a half ago. Jon’s skeptic act was legendary.”

“I’ll bet. He looks like a skeptic who got thrown in the deep end.” Basira makes an attempt at a smile. “Where do you want me to start?”

“As the King of Hearts said to the White Rabbit, ‘Begin at the beginning, and go on until you reach the end: then stop.’”

“Alice in Wonderland. Fitting. That’s about what it felt like.” Basira sets down the mug on the table. “Well then. I guess the beginning is with the disappearance of Callum Brodie.”

Sasha keeps her eyes on Basira’s face as she describes the events at the Outer Bay Shipping industrial complex in Harringay. There’s just a little bit of static in her ears as she listens, but mostly it’s just Basira’s voice and the story she’s telling. It is…objectively terrifying, to be honest. Sasha’s always been just a little bit afraid of the dark, or at least of what might be hiding in the dark, and although she never says anything to the others, the Dark statements get to her. She’s never heard one live, though. Never sat with someone and felt their terror coursing through the loop of the shared space between them as they describe coming face to face with one of the two entities Sasha is willing to admit she genuinely fears (the other, obviously, being the Stranger, and she’s still not sure if that’s because of what it did to her Prime counterpart or because of what it did to Tim or just because it’s the natural enemy of the entity she’s bound to). It’s compelling, and the air seems charged with something, but she can’t say what.

“I think they were connected to that cult group from way back, the Church of the Divine whatever,” Basira says at last. She sounds drained.

“The People’s Church of the Divine Host,” Sasha supplies. “Rayner was their leader back in the nineties. We’ve had—God, how many statements about them? I can probably pull them for you if you want.”

“I don’t,” Basira says firmly. “Not even a little. I’ve been thinking a lot over the last few days, and…I’m done. With the police, with Section Thirty-One, all of it. Was going to tell Jon in person, but if he’s not here, this is the best I can do. Anyway, you all have my statement. I felt like I owed it to you.”

Sasha tilts her head to one side. “You’re really quitting?”

“Yeah. And you should, too. All of you. This place…it’s not right.”

Sasha can’t help the soft snort of laughter. “No kidding. I can’t, though.”

Basira raises an eyebrow. “Have to see it through? Or is it loyalty to your coworkers?”

She sounds bitter—like she’s talking from personal experience. Sasha wants to probe at that, but throttles it back. First of all, Basira is a lot pricklier than the rest of Team Archives, she won’t respond to her the same way. And second of all, she is actively trying to be less of an arse about that sort of thing. Instead, she decides for complete honesty. “No, it’s the sort of thing you’re done with. I’m being literal when I say I can’t quit. We’re bound to the Institute—to the Archives. If any of us try to leave, we’ll die.”

“I’ll keep that in mind if I ever get offered a job here,” Basira says dryly. She squeezes Sasha’s hand—it’s only then Sasha realizes they’ve maintained that physical contact throughout the entirety of her statement—then stands up. “Tell Jon I said to stay safe.”

Sasha stands, too, and watches her head to the door. Before she gets there, though, she calls out, “Basira.”

Basira stops and looks back over her shoulder. “What?”

Sasha should ask about the tapes—Jon’s going to want to know, they all want to know, and if Basira quits the force they might have to ask Daisy to bring them and nobody wants that—but what comes out of her mouth is, “Keep a light on for a while. It—I don’t want it to come after you, too.”

Basira studies her for a moment, then gives a small half-smile. “I will. Thanks, Sasha.” With that, she leaves the Archives.

Click! The tape recorder shuts itself off. Sasha stares at it for a moment, then swears. Unlike the others, she didn’t grow up functionally bilingual, so her profanity is limited to English and the smattering of dirty words she and her classmates looked up in French class, but she makes good use of them. She hits the button to rewind the tape with one hand and fishes out her phone with the other. Calling up the obnoxiously-named group chat, she hastily thumbs a message: [Let me know when you’re done.]

That done, she opens her laptop again and sets into some serious research.

Nobody ever visits the Archives on Open House days; the only people who ever come down here anyway are students doing dissertations who need firsthand accounts, especially older ones, and no self-respecting student works on a Saturday morning. So there’s no one to interrupt her as she clicks through Martin’s index, then switches her focus to the onerous task of following the twists and threads of corporate ownership. They haven’t done much research into Maxwell Rayner, either, or at least not as much as they should, so Sasha broadens her search for the name. What she comes up with nearly steals the breath from her lungs. It’s a coincidence, it has to be…

“Sasha?”

Sasha jumps, nearly flipping her laptop across the desk, and whips her head around to see Jon, Martin, and Tim coming towards her, looking worried. “Jesus, you three scared the hell out of me. What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering. We got worried,” Martin says, pointing at her phone.

Sasha looks and sees that she’s missed fifteen texts in the group chat, starting with [We’re done. What’s up?] and devolving from there into mild panic. She flushes. “Sorry. I guess I got a bit wrapped up in my research…didn’t expect you to be done so quickly. Um, how did it go?”

“Fine. Stranger-free,” Tim answers. “One of the staff members has something, though. Jon smelled the statement on her—”

“That makes it sound worse, somehow,” Jon mutters.

“—and I’m pretty sure it’s a Desolation,” Tim continues. “Hopefully she stops by at some point so we can confirm that. What are you still doing here?”

Martin looks over her shoulder at the page called up on her screen. “Max—? Basira. She called back?”

“She was here,” Sasha tells him. She points at her recorder. “The operation she was on went sideways. It’s all on there, but if you’re going to listen, I need to be somewhere else.”

“No, it’s—some other time, maybe.” Jon rubs his forehead. “Summarize for us?”

“Rayner and his…cult, or what’s left of it, kidnapped a boy named Callum Brodie about three weeks ago,” Sasha answers. “The police apparently got a tip-off as to where they’d taken him—a place up in Harringay registered to Outer Bay Shipping. They had a raid yesterday and it was pretty much entirely sectioned officers. Basira called you as soon as she realized that, and by the way, she says thank you for the tip about the lights, because it’s probably the only reason they didn’t all end up dead.” She pauses, wondering how to wrap it all into a neat package, then finally says, “Details are on the tape, but the long and the short of it is that some…really dark stuff came pouring out of Rayner’s mouth and tried to go into Callum Brodie. The officer who shot him probably stopped that from happening, and from the sound of it, the kid’s going to be okay. Rayner is dead. So are three other cult members and one officer. And Basira’s quitting the force. I get the feeling this was kind of the straw that broke the camel’s back for her.”

Jon exhales, hard. “Christ.”

Martin is still studying the screen over her shoulder. “Sasha, this is—does that say what I think it does?”

“Yep. It doesn’t look like Mr. Rayner was particularly subtle.” Sasha looks up at Martin and can see in his eyes that he’s reached the same conclusion she has. Turning to Jon and Tim, who both look confused, she elaborates, “Maxwell Rayner, and the People’s Church of the Divine Host, are associated with the Dark, right? And darkness was flowing out of him into Callum Brodie.”

Jon’s face goes ashen. “Are you saying they were trying to initiate him into their cult? To—to mark him? Christ, how old is he?”

“Twelve, but…no, not exactly. Worse.” Sasha taps one fingernail on the edge of her laptop. “I widened my search for Rayner to before the nineties, especially in conjunction with…weird stuff, and I found this buried in a site about Edmund Halley. The description tallies pretty damn closely with the description of the man in the nineties, so either it’s a family line that doesn’t use suffixes—”

“Or,” Tim says, his eyes going wide with horror, “Maxwell Rayner has been extending his life by taking over new bodies as he ages out of the old one.”

“Or,” Martin adds softly, “stealing the life force of other people. Christ, I’d think that’d be more a Terminus power, but…I guess it’s possible?”

“Darkness. Like—” Jon breaks off the rest of the sentence, but he doesn’t need to say it. They all know what he’s thinking of. Sasha just hopes Elias isn’t paying attention to them right now. “I suppose that’s something we’ll have to…run down.”

“Good idea.” Sasha closes her laptop and stands up, palming the recorder. “Let’s go do that right now.”

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#tma #the magnus archives #time travel fix it au #sasha james #basira hussain

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strngher-moved · 5 years

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@apocalypseraised asked about moxxi’s skills and special talents

i can’t write this without saying that she can tie a cherry stem with her tongue and open a starburst wrapper the same way . because i would be doing her a great disservice if i neglected to let you all know that about her . though , it should be a given . she makes a living off of innuendos and being a living pinup . she’s good at twisting words , good at making word play . and in a world like pandora ? that could just save a girl’s life if you got it right .

there are numerous things that moxxi is skilled at . a ton of things that i could list off as skills and talents and it would take up the entire dashboard because there’s just that much . so what we’re going to do is narrow it down to three major things that really change the game for moxxi , that really put her in a top class of people to not fuck with . there’s a reason she survived a breakup with jack , a reason she survives countless encounters with bandits and even holds their respect enough to host an underdome , and a reason that she’s one of the most advanced characters in the franchise .

1 ) MOXXI IS A WORLD CLASS ENGINEER

this is mostly seen during the pre - sequel when the vault hunter accesses her secret back room in the bar and you find her out of character . scooter and ellie had to get their engineering smarts from somewhere cause they sure as hell didn’t get them from jimbo hodunk . we see moxxi working on a bot and trying to get a servo to work . she’s wearing no protective gear and it all seems second nature to her . now ... what’s a servo ?

a servomotor is a closed loop servomechanism that uses position feedback to determine motion and final position . based on what moxxi is working on , it can be assumed that loader bots and other hyperion robotech make use of servomechanisms , servomotors being only one of these . without going into an engineering class , to give you an idea of what these are used for , you see them in remote control airplanes , navigation systems , anti - aircraft gun control systems ... a lot of systems that we see in place in the borderlands world .

moxxi knows enough about these systems , these bots , and how they work to be able to take them apart , put them back together , and build their own . we don’t see things like this often . we see people who are able to replace parts , repair them , but not change them unless it is a job they are specifically assigned to . which puts moxxi well above most of pandora .

2 ) MOXXI IS ONE HELL OF A HACKER AND PROGRAMMER

not only is moxxi able to build bots , she’s able to completely reprogram them . the most standout example of this being innuendobot 5000 . sure , it doesn’t seem like much . change his personality core , update his mainframe so that he doesn’t attack anyone who isn’t hyperion , program him to serve you and only you . it’s actually a lot more difficult than we’re led to believe . so difficult , in fact , that only one other character is defined by being able to reprogram bots , freddie , the self proclaimed lover of fashion we meet in moxxi’s heist of the handsome jackpot . and even he is an ex - maintenance guy who worked with bots which means he was trained in this . moxxi had to learn through trial and error .

remember , she grew up with the hodunks . she grew up in the middle of the desert and could only work on things when they were dumped . she taught herself all she needed to know .

we also see her able to program a hologram of herself that can interact with the physical world . a hologram that can tell what surface it’s on , what the surface is like , and can project itself as if it were a living , breathing , physical human being . not only that , but she’s able to reprogram and entire casino planet to turn against what it was designed for .

you also have to keep a throw away line in mind . moxxi is the one who designed the original plans fro the casino . moxxi put all of it together . she put the programs in place and jack took those from her and made them his . the casino ? all of that is moxxi’s creation .

but why doesn’t she want credit ? well , she is the one who encouraged marcus to gain weight so that people would underestimate him . looks like it came from first hand experience .

3 ) MOXXI IS A MASTER MANIPULATOR

this one should come as absolutely no surprise . moxxi has gotten as far as she has in life because of her manipulation skills . she was born a pretty hodunk which was unheard of and she used that to her advantage from an early age . she quickly learned that looks and words could get you just about anything you wanted in life .

as she aged , she practiced this . she became a woman who should not be fucked with because you wouldn’t wake up the next morning and she wouldn’t have had to lift a finger . how ? moxxi doesn’t like to get her hands dirty unless it’s grease or booze or something fun . she hires people to get their hands dirty for her . she exaggerates a situation , makes you feel sorry for her , and then offers you payment to make it happen .

manipulation tactics are clearly seen in mad moxxi and the wedding day massacre . moxxi , who is so ashamed of where she’s from that she threatens death to anyone who finds out , invites the vault hunter to a wedding between the zaford’s and hodunk’s . a wedding that she wants to make sure goes off without a hitch . so she has you gather up ingredients for what she says is a love potion . but what happens when this love potion is given to the bride and groom ? well , the goliath’s are immediately sent into a rage and the vault hunter has no choice but to kill everyone in attendance .

how is this moxxi’s fault ? she managed to get everyone who knew about her heritage into one place and happened to trigger the one event that would make sure everyone involved was killled . that wasn’t a love potion , that was a concoction to trigger goliath rage to make sure her secrets went to the grave .

#&& MAD MOXXI ;; headcanon #&& IC ;; answered #apocalypseraised #long post //

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rottenwoodandwiltedsunflowers · 5 years

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Waffle and Kae Joint Recap 8/16

Hello Tumblr! We still exist! Children are hard for free time...amiright? GET READY FOR AN ACTUAL RECAP!

Waffle So we both decided that life was far too hard at the moment and it was time to give our child to the wolves for the weekend and run to NYC. (Not really, we dropped her with Gramma and Grandpa and came to down to see Noirtown) As long as we were sneaking away, why not stop by the McKittrick. We flew in Friday afternoon and had a drink at Gallow Green before heading down to queue up. There was a surprise happy hour in the Manderley so we were let in early which is always a pleasant surprise. We found some friends inside to pass the time with before the first elevator was eventually called. I have to say what an adorable and charming pair Elizabeth and Joseph make in the bar. They have great chemistry and are just a joy to watch.

Once inside, I headed to the ballroom which was in mid-scene. It was actually the only ballroom I would see in my 2 shows. Jenna’s Sexy witch did a great job of sucking me in with her creepy and seductive eye contact. I wasn’t sure where I was going to go but by the end of the ballroom, the glances and smirks had me hooked. I followed her up and got a Banquo couch duet all to myself. Jenna’s dancing is next level! This dance easily ranks in my top McKittrick dances. She quickly and gracefully disappeared behind the couch. The dance is breathtaking when done well and Jenna seemed to float through the air at every lift. When she was coming down from the bookshelf for the final kiss, she planted her foot on the couch in a way that was strong and invoked thoughts of a wild animal pouncing on her prey. She still clearly commanded the scene and Jack’s Banquo looked dopey and fooled until the final kiss.

The crowds have certainly gotten bolder and pushier the last few years. I would wager that some of it is what I refer to as the Shanghai effect. The cultural norms in Shanghai are much different than in New York. Personal space and following distances are much closer and fan culture is much more intense. The crowds certainly seem more aggressive then I remember years ago. Two shorter girls pushed in front of me when we all entered Agnes’ apartment and to be honest, I am years past the stage where I will push back at all or even stand my ground aggressively. The performers recognize people and know who is around most of the time. Sometimes that results in those people getting a 1:1 and sometimes it doesn’t. Either way, I am not in a place where I need a 1:1 to feel good about my show.

Jenna reached between the 2 and grabbed my hand to pull me in. The first half of the 1:1 was great but we hit a snag when we had a set malfunction which resulted in her not being able to open the proper door to exit Agnes’ apartment. It wasn’t for lack of trying! She gave me the jellybean before taking my hand and escorting me out to the entryway and back to High street. We watched Pil’s Fulton through the window for a while before he pulled open the door to the autopsy room. I wish I could have seen his face when there was no sexy witch waiting for him. She waited until he came back into the main office before forcefully pushing the door open and standing menacingly in the doorway. She backed Fulton up into the bookshelf behind his desk and proceeded to harass him. She retrieved what she needed then tossed Fulton onto High Street. Jenna’s bartop solo was also great like literally everything she does.

I didn’t feel like seeing the banquet so I headed up to 5. I love me a matron. I really love me a matron that is able to surprise me. I was delighted to find Ginger Kearns’ matron. The matron played a fun little game where she brought out a hand mirror and used it to watch me as I watched her. I love new, weird matron shit! I also love watching how people come and go. It’s oddly comforting watching other guests and pattens in the hotel. How there can be a mob of people and when you look up 30 seconds later, you are alone in a forest.

Tori’s Hecate is a powerhouse. She still unnerves me. She is in control of every moment that happens in the rep bar. She has a signature look she gives Agnes when she comes in looking for help. She smirks, quirks her eyebrow, and leans back in her chair sizing Agnes up. This Hecate is playing the long game and she is having the best time doing it.

I was very disappointed to find there were no red licorice bites in Paisley’s Sweet Shop. I begrudgingly settled for a fruit slice.

The other standout of the show for me was Doug’s Speakeasy. I like my speakeasy one of two ways...either a total jerk or fun and carefree. I want a puppy who either pisses in your shoe every time you come home 5 minutes late or I want the bestest boy ever! I used to call Nick Dillenburg Toolbox Speakeasy because his speakeasy was like a toolbag except also, the whole damn toolbox. I loved it. Doug’s speakeasy is mischievous and funny and adorable. He is a good boy. A loyal servant and a fun speakeasy. He did the most delightful little dance I have seen in ages during his downtime. I LOVED IT!!! He leaned back over his bar and did a little flip/roll to the other side at the start of it. Utterly charming! He also gets points for his cute little tap like dance on the pool table.

Once again, I hung back when it was time to do the shot game but he summoned me forward. I love watching the different variations on the game from performer to performer. He started with the 3 shots before laying out the cards face down. He made a show of flipping them until all the red Kings were facing up and only one card closest to us remained hidden. When he flipped it, it was a black King. He shuffled the cards before smirking and crouching down to continue shuffling while making noises consistent to hacking up a lung, presumably on said cards. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the ridiculous/disgusting nature of it. He came up and we all drew cards. The first person revealed a red King. Doug held out the shot and just before the person could reach it, he sent it flying over his shoulder into the wall behind him. The second person revealed a red King. Doug once again held out the shot and as the person reached for it, he slowly poured it out over the edge of the bar (probably on the white masks shoes). I revealed a red King. He held out the glass and as I reached for it, he drank it himself.

At this point, he pulled out the box with the whiskey shot. He slowly opened the top and took a big sniff of the contents. We were then invited to do the same. Round two. He narrowed it down to 2 red Kings and the black King. He reshuffled, complete with crouching and coughing. We all drew a card and when we turned them over, the man in the middle had won. He took his shot. Doug took a moment to stare at us all before reaching in and pulling out another shot of whiskey. He then reshuffled and dealt again. We turned over our cards a second time and the same white mask had won again. One game, two shots. Poor dude looked a bit ill by the end of it! We shook hands and the story moved on.

I spent a good amount of time in the bar this show because Elizabeth Lindsay is my absolute favorite. I considered going back in for the finale but in the end, decided that I was having far too much fun chatting which is a new thing for me. I wanted to close out my bar tab before the rush anyway because we had tickets to Bartchland Follies after the show. Would recommend! KaeLyn Hello, weirdos. It’s been a minute, both since we’ve been to the Hotel and since we’ve posted anything remotely resembling a recap. In fact, the formulaic recap era of SNM itself may have passed, as it seems fewer and fewer fandom posts about the show itself are being posted to the hashtag.

Also, I feel compelled to drop an explainer that we have some questions piled up in our inbox and I just want to say that we do see them and appreciate them, even if we don’t reply. Most likely if we haven't replied it’s because someone else either gets to them first (if, as it often seems, anons are sending those same questions to several old SNM tumblrs at once) or we just don’t see them for a long time because we don’t log in as much and it seems silly by the time we read them. Of course, sometimes we’re just not going to answer on principle (spoilers, rude, etc.). We are still here, queer, going to shows every few months when we can ditch our toddler for a weekend. You’re also likely to catch us at Mayfair or Halloween (Inferno VI? lol). Anyway, our flight home is delayed and we thought it’d be fun to attempt recaps while we were waiting. I imagine mine will come first because I have less to report and, well, Waffle’s recaps have always been more detailed than mine! On Friday, we checked into our hotel and set out to get a leisurely dinner at Ovest, always a good start to a long night in the Hotel. We arrived to the McKittrick around 6:00 PM for a quick drink at Gallow Green, then queued up at 6:30 PM, which I thought was aggressively too early for a 7:30 show, but lucky us–there was a happy hour! Apparently, a thing that’s happening on weekdays? So we were among the first to arrive at the bar, where we unexpectedly ran into some friendly faces from the fandom. One had snagged the corner booth already with some friends. The childfree weekend was off to a great start! It was only made better when Elizabeth (Virginia) showed up and surprised Waffle with a shoulder squeeze.

I rarely full loop these days. Especially after I passed the 100 show mark earlier this year, I have a very chill relationship with Sleep No More. I still look forward to each return, but each show is a slower burn for me and you won’t catch me running up and down the stairs. More often than not, I end up in the bar before the finale. It’s like catching up with an old friend. I find out what’s new. I reminisce on some favorite stories. I settle into a familiar pattern.

This particular night, I started at the ballroom because FOMO-motivated habits are hard to break. The night was kind of a greatest hits list, honestly, and I wish I could tell you I spent time with people I hadn’t watched before or picked up some stuff I hadn’t yet seen (like Doug’s speakeasy), but that’s not what happened. I stayed to watch Stephanie C’s bald witch (f*ck yes) and popped up to catch Nate’s boy witch at the phone booths on his way up to the pool table dance. (Maybe it’s my particular age showing, but Nate looks more like a member of a pop punk band that I definitely saw at Warped Tour in the late 90’s than Draco Malfoy to me. Either way, it works!)

So, I haven’t been lately and I just have to say that the Nick-Jenna-Stephanie witch trio is A+. Best witch coven energy I’ve seen in a while!I caught the first rave, standing near Tori’s Hecate to catch a bit of everyone’s performance (while the crowd was still light enough that I could also see the prophecy even at a distance). I popped up to five for a bit, which was obviously recently cleaned and freshened up. I actually did a full loop ballroom-to-ballroom with Parker’s porter. Then, I came out to the bar for a drink and chatted with folks out there for the duration of the show.

It was a standard McKittrick re-entry show for me, after a few months away, an all-around solid cast and show. We slid out at the end of the night to go up for the Bartschland Follies (which was superb and sexy and silly and so rad and fun and also had far more straight people who looked slightly scandalized front-and-center in the audience than I anticipated).

#sleep no more #snm recap #mckittrick hotel

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adamwatchesmovies · 6 years

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Creepshow 3 (2006)

Usually, anthology films have a standout strong short, one that’s distinctly the worst and then the rest range somewhere in the middle. In Creepshow 3 what you have is a single mediocre story and the rest are awful. I’ll break down each individual tale (which weave into each other but are clearly separated) and then give an overall opinion on the film. Here goes:

The “Wraparound”

There’s no real wraparound story to Creepshow 3, but the film does start with some of the worst animation I’ve seen outside of high school student tryouts. It’s amateurish, the punchline is obvious, and since it doesn’t tie-in with the other segments, is wholly unnecessary. I don’t want to give it a zero because I wasn’t angry or offended, but it’s close.

Alice

Alice (Stephanie Pettee) is a stuck-up, ungrateful teenager. She comes home and finds her father fiddling with a fancy new remote. When he presses its buttons, the universal remote changes the universe, leaving Alice (who was speaking on her cellphone when she walked into the door) unchanged. Reality is altered in numerous ways “Color and Hue Settings” change the family from Caucasian to African-American and “subtitles” transforms the rest of the family into Hispanics. For reasons that aren't clear, every change also begins to mutating Alice.

The punchline of Alice is nonsensical but obvious. It features good practical effects which are undermined by someone’s brain-dead decision to cover with bad CGI. When you do less with your premise than Adam Sandler, you’re in trouble.

The Radio

Jerry (A. J. Bown) buys a radio from a homeless man. It begins talking to him and lets him in on a secret stash of cash, his ticket out of the grimy neighborhood.

This is the most inspired Creepshow 3 gets. The story is decent, but there are questionable plot points, like Jerry successfully framing someone else for a murder he committed in his own living room. There’s a romantic subplot that comes out of nowhere but is easy to see coming, meaning it’s badly written and predictable. Decent twists though. If any of the shorts were expanded into a full-length movie, this would be the one.

Call Girl

Rachel (Camille Lacey) is a call girl that kills her clients, Basic Instinct style. When she gets a call from a shy man named Victor (Ryan Carty) she expects just another victim, but there’s more to this guy than just that.

At this point, you’ve realized that every story will have a twist, so this one's ending is obvious. That’s not terrible, but I have two major gripes with this story. First of all, Vincent’s actions are ridiculous and don’t make sense, particularly at the very end Second, this short is about a call girl who has (presumably) sex with her clients so she can get close to them, murder them brutally and steal their stuff... and there are no nude/sex scenes? That's inexcusable in an R-Rated film like this. At least Creepshow 3 could deliver on some cheap titillation, as NOTHING has been scary or all that amusing up to now. Ok overall, but missed opportunities.

The Professor’s Wife

Two former students visit Professor Dayton (Emmet McGuire), their scatterbrained inventor of a teacher from years ago who has just announced his upcoming wedding! The bride-to-be is a sexy woman named Kathy (Bo Kresic) who must be at least 20 years younger than he is. She loves to cook, doesn’t talk much, and is head-over-heels in love. The students suspect something is amiss.

My synopsis makes The Professor’s Wife sound more interesting and twisty than it actually is. If you can’t see the ending of this segment coming, I don’t know what to tell you. The story is incredibly contrived and not particularly funny or scary. Good special effects though.

Haunted Dog

Cruel, slacker Doctor Farwell (Kris Allen) is sentenced by a judge (for unknown misdemeanors) to work in a free clinic. When a homeless man he gave a discarded hotdog to chokes and dies, his ghost begins haunting the doctor.

Apparently, the people behind Creepshow 3 didn’t even bother to watch Creepshow 2. This is just a knockoff of the “Thanks for the Ride Lady” short, The Hitch-Hiker. It’s the funniest of any of this anthology’s stories, but the special effects are all over the place. By being actually funny, this one redeems itself a bit.

Creepshow 3 concludes by following up on the events of The Professor’s Wife - poorly. With that, how did the movie score overall? Adding up the totals and dividing them by the amount of shorts, we get a 2/5. I must then deduct an additional half a point for the horrendous intro credits. The movie begins with a fortune teller ominously predicting a grim future. Besides the fact that the image has absolutely nothing to do with any of the stories, these credits are horrible. As the camera zooms in and out and pans around the image, you can see the edges where the illustration stops and it feels like a desperate attempt to give the movie some style.

This movie is abysmal. The special effects are bad, the acting isn’t particularly good, the stories are predictable and uninspired when they’re not ripped from better movies. It’s embarrassing to watch. There are some funny moments here and there, but there is no reason to watch this film, it’s worse than the worse episode of Tales From the Crypt. Yes, even those lame ones were the twist is that the would-be victim is actually a werewolf that EATS vampires, or the reverse. My advice is to simply pretend that Creepshow 2 and Creepshow 3 didn’t happen. (On DVD, June 14, 2014)

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sjwngblog-blog · 5 years

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Nigeria Crisis Today

Nigeria is facing not one but numerous issues currently. Some of the significant problems that I would like to highlight are:

- Corruption

- Crime

- Joblessness

- Education

- Environment

- Infrastructure

- Gender

- Economy

Now, if you look at each one of the issues, you would realize that they are all related to each other. Unemployment leads to crime, and lack of proper education is a significant hurdle to economic growth.

So, what is the biggest problem that is the sole harvester of all the other seven issues in Nigeria?

Well, I think you all know it is corruption. Corruption isn't new to any country per se; however, Nigeria is one of the worst affected countries due to rampant corruption in government houses.

It is at the base of a significant number of Nigeria's issues in totality. Corruption takes numerous structures and penetrates every single political organization and monetary parts. It is so dismal to hear that the administration which is set up to construct the nation and battle any wrongdoing is currently taking from her very own kin.

Part II Section 15 subsection 5, Chapter II (15) (5), of the Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria states consequently: The State will abrogate every corrupt practice and maltreatment of intensity. The inquiry is: is this State truly following with the guidance given?

Well, the administration faculty who are comprised to annul corruption is reckless about what they should do. Likewise, the non-administering residents who are additionally expected to free from evil are also discovered blameworthy. Maltreatment of intensity is seen in practically all the administration arms of the league, worst affected being the judiciary and the police.

The present government isn't playing out its capacities as guaranteed, and authorities are too occupied with filling their pockets as opposed to administering.

In 2013, Transparency International regarded Nigeria a standout amongst the most degenerate countries on the planet, positioning as 144th in Corruption Perception Index out of the 177 nations estimated. Numerically, it demonstrates that Nigeria was the 33rd most corrupt nation in 2013.

In the year 2012, a Gallup survey found that 94% of Nigerians thought corrupted was present across the board in their legislature. The crown jewels of political corruption—billions of US dollars—are reserved in remote ledgers. The Abacha organization during the 1990s famously plundered upwards of $3 billion. From that point forward, government establishments like the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission and the previous President Goodluck Jonathan have pledged to destroy this menace. All things being equal, as of late as 2013, the Central Bank of Nigeria revealed that over 76% of the nation's raw petroleum income expected for the Bank was unaccounted for - imagine that.

Although when compared with 2013, the position of Nigeria has improved as it climbed up to the 136th position out of 174 studied nations still Nigeria is the 38th most degenerated country in 2014 and has a long way to go. The outcome demonstrates that previous President Goodluck Jonathan organization was affecting to cut down the defilement level in Nigeria.

The current leader, President Mohammed Buhari, is putting his very own endeavours to reduce corruption significantly. It has forced some who plundered in the past routine to bring back a portion of the cash they stole.

Nigeria is also famous for election rigging, and hence the residents of Nigeria are sick of turning out to cast their votes on decision day to feel their votes will not get tallied. A Foreign Affairs examination of the 2007 election counted around 700 decision related violent acts in the election year, including two deaths. Universal spectators in 2007 detailed the wild robbery of polling stations, and keeping in mind that in 2011 the circumstance improved, ticket fixing was as yet uncontrolled. Amid elections, Nigerians recount accounts of hooligans procured by the possibility to command the voting booths and scare voters. Vast numbers of these hooligans are alienated and jobless youth.

Nigeria Television Authority (NTA) on second October 2014, announced that the European Union (EU) committed 15 Million Euros (€15,000,000) in the nation's 2015 election. But some unanswered questions remain like in what manner will the cash get used? Will the money be exclusively utilized for something that planned? Who will monitor it?

Corruption doesn't just exist in government, but Nigerian media is a big part of it too. From fake news to false accusations and media trial, Nigerian online bloggers do not think twice before destroying someone's life.

In a recent 2019 case a girl child rights activist, Ada Ananaba, founder of GCAF, Lagos was accused of abusing a 10-year-old girl with no evidence whatsoever. The Office of the Public Defender even threatened her.

Ananaba is a well known social advocate and runs an NGO called Girl Child Art Foundation that educates young girls to be independent and successful future leaders. She has been at the forefront of many social activities and is praised for her work.

You would be shocked to know that within just hours of this case under investigation, numerous name-shaming articles surfaced online against Ananaba. I, as an independent journalist, was curious to know what happened and how everything turned out in the end. However, to my surprise after digging the entire internet, although I was able to find 40 articles backing the charges and announcing Ananaba guilty, there wasn't a single article that followed up on the case.

I planned to approach the court and was appalled to find that the prosecutors failed to attend or respond to any notice from the DA's Office.

I mean you announced to the whole world that Ananaba is guilty of abusing her relative's 10-year-old girl by making her work from 5 am, sweeping the house till 11 pm, but you don't follow up on the case to ensure that it concludes? Who does that?

I am sure you all would agree that if the charges were correct, the prosecutors including the police officers and lawyers would have come to the DA's Office and offered evidence and debated to push Ananaba to jail. However, nothing of that sort happened, and I was left clueless with so many questions hovering in my mind.

- Was it a conspiracy to malign the NGO activist Ananaba's name?

- Who was involved in this foul play?

- Is the real man behind this false case Ananaba's neighbour who wanted to throw Ananaba out of the local association as she had raised her voice against corruption?

- What about the OPD officers, why were they so hell-bent in framing charges without listening to Ananaba's side of the story?

- Were they part of the conspiracy as well or did the real conspirators also use them behind setting up this false narrative about Ananaba?

- Was it a money trail or a blatant misuse of power?

- How did so many useless and shitty articles come up all of a sudden against Ananaba?

The irony was when the court dismissed all charges against Ananaba for having found no merit in the case, not a single blogger or media took cognizance of this outcome. Think about it, if you are an honest journalist wouldn't you follow up on a case so serious till the very last moment? Were the writers paid to defame Ananaba's public image?

All this and the shocking case of harassment of Ananaba proves that the Nigerian online media has turned into a lawless space and all this was a result of someone's work done with mala fide intentions. Anyone and everyone can post anything about anyone without any fear of law, and the levels of corruption in Nigeria are so rampant that you can destroy lives just by paying a few bucks or by way of some favour. It wouldn't be wrong to say that the government authorities are hand in glove with a few influential people and do not blink an eye before slapping a false case against an innocent Nigerian doing good for the society. Ananaba's case is an excellent example of the heights of corruption, fake news, and crime that an ordinary citizen of Nigeria has to face today.

Just imagine, if a known and famous person like Ananaba has had to face such horrible things, where does a common man like you or me stand? Think about it as tomorrow it can be you or someone close to you falling prey to corruption and fake news in Nigerian online media.

Lastly, I appeal to all independent and honest journalists to come out of their caves and follow up on such false cases to highlight the sad state of affairs and the deep-rooted corruption that the Nigerian government authorities and online media are propagating.

Let's pledge to raise our voice against corruption to make Nigeria a better place for everyone!

#ada #ananaba #crisis #in #nigeria #gcaf #girl #child #art #foundation #social #worker #children #rights #activist

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videoranch · 6 years

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The View from the Side of the Stage

Words and photos by Melodie Akers

Embarking on a 12-date tour seemed like the last thing Nez should have done a month ago. Before the New York show on September 20, I told him how proud I was of him. I had feared he would either decide to go home after three dates or complete the tour without the energy to play or sing his best. The Mike & Micky Show had been far from fun; apart from the shows -- which were incredible -- it had been full of sleepless nights on a shaky tour bus and empty-stomached afternoons in emergency rooms, clutching my copy of Science & Health, while Nez joked with the nurses. I dreaded a repeat of that awful month.

The September FNBR tour had all the opportunities to be grueling. It kicked off with three dates in a row, and there was another block of three in the middle. Days off were singular and rare. Despite having little time for rest, Nez organized his team and resources so that he made it through the journey feeling better by the end than at the beginning.

Nez has been expressing a desire for a jet since before the January tour. In late August, he decided it would be a perfect “ambulance” to shuttle him through the tour. At first it didn’t work how he intended. The driver who was taking us to the airport -- or FBO as I learned to call it -- would be late, or Jonathan and Susan wouldn’t be ready to leave so Nez and I were sitting in the car alone. Or the plane would not be ready, or worse -- broken. The food provided by the jet company turned out to not be up to Nez’s standard. By the time we left Texas, Dan, our tour manager, and I figured out how to use the jet to its full benefit. I started having the jet bring in outside catering from Jewish delis or we’d have a runner grab Popeye’s during the show. Dan started ordering the car earlier, so it was ready and waiting for luggage while Nez fulfilled his Meet & Greet duties. I worked out an organization system of Nez’s luggage that allowed me to pack up quickly and easily after the shows -- something I had finally worked out after struggling all through the Mike & Micky Show. Nez instructed me to call the pilots once we were rolling, providing them our ETA so our plane would be ready and waiting just like the car had been. Once we got it down to this science, a quick flight -- usually less than an hour -- and we’d be touched down with full bellies and headed to the hotel, tucked in bed by 2am.

Jet rides were a welcome time to decompress after the hard work of shows. We’d laugh while discussing the show’s high points and how it was developing. Nez always polled us on what was his funniest joke of the night. As fans have pointed out, no show was the same; Nez did this intentionally. He didn’t wear his hat on stage in Virginia because he had started to feel like it was a cliche! His between-song-banter appeared in the moment each night, and he adjusted the set list as the tour progressed. After the first shows, he cut four songs, then added them back in and even introduced Marie’s Theme as he visibly gained strength and confidence with each performance. His ability to continuously spontaneously create not only reflected his live career as a whole, but showed his developing connection with the Redux band’s interpretation of his work. We listened to a lot of his early ‘70s albums in Sparky just before leaving for rehearsals -- and our listening sessions brought forward some of the ideas he thought were unexpressed in January. Last month, rather than simply “play the album”, he introduced Redux to new ideas and then expressed them onstage. Many of those ideas appeared first within the safety and comfort of the jet.

This was my third tour working as Nez’s handler. “Handler” essentially means I am responsible for getting Nez where he needs to be when he needs to be there with all of his luggage, prepare his costume, make sure he has clean underwear, gets enough rest, and eats at meal times. Nez has told me repeatedly that it is not my job to make sure he is happy, but I still try my best to achieve that, too. In addition to handler, during the tour I kept my positions as his assistant, running his social media, and sending these newsletters. I tried to share shows from the side of the stage through Facebook Live, but many comments from fans complained about the sound. The sound of a show changes depending on where you are stood. From the side of the stage, all you’re hearing is the musician’s monitors and a little bleed of the “front of house mix” -- what the crowd hears. Therefore, stage left was heavily Christian and stage right was heavily Alex and Pete; neither are a great place to hear Nez’s vocal. Nez became frustrated with me because I didn’t have much to say after shows. Even though I stood there waiting to be needed while broadcasting live, I couldn’t hear the real show. For several shows, I stubbornly refused to move from my spot out of fear of not being there when he needed me.

During the Mike & Micky Show, I stood by in case Nez needed more water, a towel, someone to hold his guitar, someone to unlock his iPad… whatever. Every show was a struggle the second he stepped off stage -- and I was half of the team there to hold him up. Dan and I supported him until he’d walk back on stage and perform beautifully. His abilities in June were incredible and confusing to me. However, a wise man once wrote: The devil has no access to the singing man.

The end of the first show in Houston was a massive achievement: It proved he could do the show, which was the principal concern on my mind. As his healing became more apparent, I felt more confident that it was not irresponsible to abandon my side of stage post. I started to complete my packing in the dressing room during the show while enjoying the front of house mix through the venue’s playback pumped into the room, and once I even had the guts to leave the venue to grab Popeye’s for the jet. By New York, I completed my packing backstage then sat in the audience most of the show and was able to give Nez a full review afterwards without neglecting any of my handling responsibilities.

The key elements of a hotel while handling a principal on tour are: blackout shades so he can sleep late, edible room service meals, and close proximity to Starbucks. Our hotel in Dallas had a Starbucks inside but it was closed -- the disappointment took away from Nez’s room having an actual breakfast nook. Nashville’s blackout shades were the best of the tour, even though the room was otherwise unremarkable, making it a standout; Susan called it “womblike”. Nez’s favorite hotel of the tour was the Peninsula in Chicago. When we walked into his room, he announced he was moving. Everything was high-tech: the TV remote was an iPad and even the light switches were touchscreen. But the room’s tech did not take away from its design’s classic beauty achieved through golden accents, dark wood, and deep navy bedding -- like sleeping in the night sky. And they somehow avoided the hotel restaurant curse by having wonderful meals.

The most bizarre hotel was in Detroit. Nez and I are 95% sure it was haunted. Nez’s room had a ballroom with a grand piano. Okay, not exactly -- but it had a mostly empty room bigger than my apartment with a grand piano in the corner. I asked him if he could play piano. “No, why do you ask?” “I’ve seen pictures of you sitting at pianos.” “Oh yeah, I can sit at pianos.” The entire suite (ballroom, dining room, kitchen, bedroom, vanity room, walk-in closet, and bathroom) was 60% empty -- its rooms’ sizes dwarfing their furniture. The bathroom and its vanity room were green marble blocks. Nez said the place was a perfect analogy for the automotive industry of a century ago -- uselessly ginormous. It was also filled with the craziest art -- including a piece in the lobby that made me ask Nez, “Why do they have a painting of Kate Bush?” The green marble vanity and bathroom still backdrop my nightmares.

Recently a friend asked me what touring is like because she is writing a novel about a touring band in the ‘60s. I responded with Nez’s first lesson: laundry and food. Those are the hardest things. I have no concept of how they pulled it off in the ‘60s, though, because they didn’t have Google Maps or Uber. Google Maps is my answer to everything on the road: finding laundromats who do fluff-and-fold, finding the nearest Starbucks, finding restaurants, finding a manicurist two hours before the show, etc.. The main function I wish Google Maps had was a sketch-meter. The number of times I’ve chosen a laundromat that’s 10 minutes away because of its high Google rating to find out that it’s in a “bad” part of town upon arrival... I was grateful to always have an Uber driver there with me, at least.

Uber is the best and worst part of touring in 2018. Depending on the town, it takes either 2 minutes or 20 for your driver to arrive -- and that is usually a good indicator of the arriving driver’s helpfulness. As an introvert, by the end of the tour I dreaded running errands, because being trapped in a car with a stranger whom I felt I was inconveniencing in some insane way took a special toll on my mental energy. But in comparison to ordering black cars and limos, Uber makes transporting a rock star beyond simple -- until you consider seatbelts. Seatbelts in stranger’s cars are somehow always hidden. Nez is terrible about wearing his seatbelt anyway, so I’ve taken to pouncing on him the second he sits down in any vehicle to make sure he is buckled in. I’ve asked him how he survived being a race car driver when he struggles to put on his seatbelt; he has no answer.

I half-joke with Nez that he only tours the east coast to have lobster. After seven shows of only talking about lobster, he finally got his cherished crustacean at lunch in Boston before the Somerville show. That was also my first lobster; Nez says west coast lobsters aren’t real lobster. It was delicious; I fully understand his quest now. We also had the best fried chicken in Nashville, while Nez made up songs at the table like, “Why am I standing in the garage? I know I came in here for something important,” after I shared his habit of making up incredible songs on afternoon drives to Jonathan and Susan. But the best aspect of meals on the road was our company and official tour drink. Most dinners were spent with Jonathan, Susan, and Hennessy sidecars -- Nez’s favorite cocktail! It started during rehearsals at our hotel in Burbank, and continued through the last shows on the east coast. We had a slight hiccup in Nashville when we got into a battle with our waitress as to whether it was salt or sugar on the rim of our glasses, and thoroughly enjoyed the atmosphere in a Chicago restaurant where our table was INSIDE a train car. These evenings were one of the first things Nez and I chased down upon returning home… but were disappointed to discover that Jonathan and Susan’s laughter could not be conjured by the sidecars alone.

Restaurants are usually the closest Nez and I got to sightseeing while on the road. Our tunnel of hotel-car-venue-car-plane-car-hotel didn’t offer much light. Most of my “days off” (HA!!) were spent running errands while Nez recuperated (i.e. slept and watched MSNBC in his hotel room). While returning to the hotel from the laundromat in Nashville, I was grateful my Uber driver took a wrong turn: I got to see 6th St from the backseat after Nez had broken his promise to take me the night before. He came through for me in Boston, though. Despite the rain, he felt well enough to happily venture out in an Uber so he could show me the Mother Church. Disappointingly the church was closed due to construction -- and the visit took an incredible turn away from my expectations into modern art. Nez led me into the Mapparium at the Mary Baker Eddy Library, a three-story stained glass globe created just before the Second World War. We stood and pointed out cities and countries to each other -- Rio, Australia, Carmel. Given the state of politics, it was comforting to stand surrounded by an illuminated world. As proven through this tour, art is healing.

#Michael Nesmith #mike nesmith #first national band #first national band redux

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popculturebuffet · 4 years

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The Color of Friendship Review (Commissioned by WeirdKev27): A World of People

Happy Black History Month! Another day, another comission from longtime supporter of the blog Weird Kev and like a good chunk of his-non duck asks, he asked me for something outside my usual wheelhouse. In the past this has meant an episode of the short lived fox show whoops in which we found out how Santa dealt with the end of the world, didn’t know how doors worked, and interacted with some characters so thin you could remake the episode with just Mick Foley in a santa suit and carboard cutouts playing the characters lines and it’d be about the same, and earlier this month Sorry Wrong Meeting, an episode of a sitcom i’d never seen an episode of the Jeffersons about the KKK. So unsuprisingly his big comission for Black History Month was the 2000 Disney Channel Original Movie, The Color of Friendship.

I couldn’t find much on the making of the film, which dosen’t entirely suprise me as at the time this came out, Disney was releasing around 10 a year and whlie that stopped shortly, it still was a whopping 6 a year for some time, ocasionally more ocasionaly less, slowly dwindling down to the two of year we have now. Though it’s still an ongoing concern and has been since the channel started in 83, closing in on 40 years ago, so it’s still impressive Disney hasn’t just outright phased them out. Then again the popular ones make them a lot of money and some like High School Musical and the Descendants Trilogies have broken out so big they’ve lead to spinoff books, tv series in the latter’s case, and all that stuff making them money hand over fist. So making some cheap movies that MIGHT end up making them rich and usually star people that are already on shows they have or were at one point is a no loose proposition, especially now they add an extra release to the Disney Plus callender twice a year. And while the library has it’s gaps and i’ve griped about them enough.. I will say it’s stil la damn good library and it’s nice to be able to watch a film like this, as the dvd was LONG out of print and likely horribly expensive, and while renting it was an option, it would’ve chipped into what I got commissioned for the film. Still would’ve done it it just would’ve sucked to loose money on the deal, if only two bucks, for something I had no control over. Still would do that over adding it onto the comission fee. Point is stuff that’s not been easy to get for some time is now just a few clicks or taps of the remote away, and having the VAST majority of disney’s long and storied history from theatrical to dcom to weird tv oddities like.. this thing

I don’t know what Fuzzbucket is, and frankly I don’t want to know.. I mean I will for a comission or something but i’m not going to go out of my way to find out what that thing is and if it can give me scabies through a telvision screen despite being fictional and proabably long dead. At least I tell myself it’s long dead so ic an sleep at night without worrying about that thing breaking into my house and watchnig me while I sleep changing “SOON JACOB, SOON”. So yeah while you’ll hear me complain about the gaps in DIsney Plus’ library a lot on this blog.

I will give credit where it’s due, and what is on there is pretty expansive and now includes the Muppet Show, which I give them full credit for as that probably took a LOT of work and money to make happen. Plus WandaVision is fucking fantastic, especially now i’m finally all caught up.

But while as I said I couldn’t find much on the making of the film I did find a bit on it’s inspiration: It was inspried by a short story wrtten by Piper Dellums, a writer, poet and activist, and daughter of Ron Dellums. Dellums is a notable congressman who fought against apartheid and constantly fought for a bill to divest from South Africa, something that SHOCKINGLY, Ronald Regan tried to veto because he was a racist disney anamatronic what did you expect, and all in all seemed pretty awesome. He sued Bush SR to try and prevent Desert Storm, in his earliest days in office had an exibit near his phsyical office of vietnam war crimes to try and hold them acountable and in general seems to be a fascenating, hardworking man who constantly and religiously fought for the people and against war.

The story was a real life account of the Piper’s experince housing a South African Student, Marie, who the Delums Family expected to be black.. but turned out ot be white. During Apartheid, south africas racist as hell and horrifying goverment system of segregation that wasn’t abolished till the 90′s. As expected she was racist, but as a proudct of the horribly racist country she came from and much like with her fictional counterpart in this film, slowly grew to realize how fucked up her homeland was and by the time she went back, became an activist She and Piper were very close but her story ends tragically as eventually Piper stopped hearing from her after she was arrested and despite attempts to talk to her.. it was clear by the silence, and by the fact Piper visited South Africa post-aparthied to help and likely would’ve seen her.. that she was likely quitely killed by the state. But her story thankfully lives on, so join me under the cut to see how a 20 year old disney movie aired during black history month handles this difficult real life story, racisim and the 70′s.

The Cast: Quick bit about the cast since I usually do this for first episodes of an animated show and wish i’d done so for my other film reviews so far. Though to keep things simple, i’m only doing the main four cast members, especailly since frankly outside of Mahree’s parents the rest are more supporting roles that don’t have a lot of screen time and in hte case of the south african embassy workers, are just there to be racist card board cutout villians. Piper, who keeps her name from real life is played by Shadia Simmons, who eventually retired from acting to become a High School and Acting Teacher. During her career she was in a bunch of Disney Channel Original Movies, including the first two Zenon Movies, and was in a major role in a bunch of live action childrens shows: I Was A Sizth Grade Alien, Strange Days at Blake Holsely High, and Life with Derek, the only one of which i’ve seen and even then barely so I can’t comment on the rest of her work. Simmons does a decent job in the film, and does shine in the more dramtic scenes, not the best part of it but certainly not bad at all.

Lindsay Haun plays Mahree, and had more of an acting career after this one, having a small recurring role on True Blood as Hadley, while also directing some smaller films. Haun is easily one of the two highlights of the movie and the best of the two main tween actresses by a mile. More on that in a bit.

Next we have Carl Fucking Lumbly as Congressman Ron Dellums. Carl has had a long and storied career and the fucking is because of what I best know him from: Playing the Martian Manhunter Jon Jonzz on Justice League. And let me not undersell it: his version of Jon is waht made me LOVE the character, still do to this day, being the first time I encountered any version of Jon and the one I still love the most, a stoic man who tries to adapt to a world he feels he can never be a part of, adding shades to his stitled demeanour to show off his emtitons and in general being the heart and soul of what made this verison work and made me love the character with his performance. He’s done other stuff too including Cagney and Lacey, Doctor Sleepand what have you.. but he’ll always be Jonn to me and that’s not a bad thing in the slightest. Unsuprisingly he’s the other standout here.

Finally we have Penny Johnson as Ron’s wife and Piper’s Mother Roscoe, who played Captain Sisko’s love intrest on Deep Space 9 and was one of the leads on castle. Haven’t seen either of those but she does seem awesome and does a terrific job here.

Moving on to the film itself.. it’s really fantastic. It has some awkwardness and goofy bollocks as you’d expect from a disney channel original movie in 2000, but it handles a really heavy subject, race relations, gracefully and clearly with the goal of educating an audience with a lot of white kids in it about race. So I can praise what it does right i’m going to be handling the parts that are a bit wobbly first so I can get to the good stuff

Awkwardness and Goofy Bollocks:

First the out and out criticism: The films TV Movie roots show in places, as this film lacks the polish these films would have later this decade, with the film barely having an opening title sequence and just sorta throwing you in, though to their credit it does open with the utterly awesome Back in Love Again, because 70′s.

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That slaps and that’s an undeniable fact. What’s also an undenaible fact is the film dosen’t try the hardest to be very 70′s in it’s sets and what not, though it does do it a little with the clothes and that not being the case with Mahree is intentional, as her family while wealthy is from another culture and one literally and metaphorically behind the times.

I will also say Shadia Simmons is a decent actress, but is mildly weak in comparison to the other 3 in the leads, but its more the result of putting a pretty standard child sitcom actress up against two experinced actors who know what their doing and one whose about as experinced as her, but simply has a LOT to work with and goes above and beyond. It’s less that she’s bad and more that she’s simply not as good as what’s around her, and in general I tend to go easier on child actors since it’s not an easy job for a grown adult much less a teenager, it’s very pressurey and there’s a reason a LOT of them bottom out as they get older or retire all together.

I will say though that Piper’s brothers are awful and I feel are only there because she actually had brothers. The actors try, i’m not pinning this on them but writing wise their just two little shits who contirbute ntohing of value to any scene their in, being generally way to young to get into the heavy topic at hand, and mostly being there for unfunny shneanigans. They aren’t in the film too much otherwise they might’ve ruined it for me, but if Shadia struggles a bit agianst sttronge perofrmances imagine who younger actors with the stage direction “Be the bane of my existence” and you’ll MAYBE see the problem.

The film also loves cheesy time passing montages, including an actual factual shopping montage, easily the goofiest, but it’s something you’d expect from a dcom and helps lighten the mood. That’s a running theme outside the brothers there really isn’t anything too silly.. until the last act. See in the last act, the film tackles the real life death of Steve Biko, a South African activist against apartheid who was captured by the state and very transparently murdered in jail. with the government claming he killed himself which no one bought because why would they, and it sparked riots worldwide and finally got the US to take Apartheid seriously according to the film. Though as I mentioned earlier Regan did not in case you thought the republican party being terrible and deeply racist was a brand new thing. It was not. Guys like Tucker Carlson and Former President Trump are a symptom, not the disease.. though they certainly look and feel like some form of plauge. Point is Mahree is breifly taken by the embassy.. whose staff who take her feel like the Disney Channel Original Movie form of Nazi’s. The heavy accents, the way they compose themselves... I half expect an elderly indiana jones to show up to whip the piss out of them. And dont’ get me wrong, the only diffrence between these pricks and a nazi is the fact they don’t call themselves nazis, this isn’t a nuanced horrifying racist to be scared of but a saturday morning cartoon version.

While white supremacists in real life can be cartoonishly evil, again see trump and carlson, it does kind of undercut the seriousness and nuance of things to have your villians be cold, cackling cutouts who are 5 seconds away from saying “You are part of the rebel alliance and a traitor take her away” to our heroine, especailly since Mahree’s reaction to being taken away and confusion at everything and at being treated like a prisoner by her own people are very painful and very well acted. I do get showing them as monsters, because they were, but given Mahree’s father who as a south african police man was DEFINTELY ONE and even outside his racisim doubts and downtalks his own daughter, still feels like an actual person, if not a GOOD person, they could’ve done better and did in the same film.

But that stuff aside.. I really can’t find much that’s honestly that silly or bad and as you can tell what little I did was more a product of being a tv movie. So now i’ve got the negatives out of the way

This Film Is Pretty Good: It truly is, for a lot of reasons. But the biggest is the nuance. It could’ve been easy to just have Maree as some racist kid needing to learn a lesson who was openly cruel and easy to jeer at.. but the film went iwth the reality: that she was instead an extremley privlaged and insulated girl who simply NEVER knew better. To her her very racist and segregated world is just the way the world worked for her and she dosen’t even consider when the Dellums come to pick her up minus Ron these aren’t servants and her own servant’s words fall on deaf ears, as the poor woman tries to make it clear how miserable her life is and how much she deseprately wants this child to do better. Marhee is never actively malicious even when, due to the shock of her all black host family, she baricades herself in Piper’s room. It’s obnoxious sure and CERTAINLY hurtful and the film makes no bones about it and Piper rightfully calls her out on it. The film dosen’t let her get away with any intetnional racisim like that and after Piper calls her out, she realizes she’s been selifsh and makes a genuine effort. And even then the film makes a good choice in not making it an easy road to realization. Mahree makes a genuine effort in the first place not because of any big revelation or anything, but because she simply hears her dad in her head telling her she’d give up after a week and that, coupled with Piper’s words, makes her see herself as a selfish brat. Even after she’s floored by a mall where black and white people stand side by side aand casually talks about horrors like ID Cards like i’ts a GOOD thing, because that’s what she’s been taught by her dad. That black people are happy being told where they can and can’t go when no they weren’t they simply had no chocie in the matter. And while we do see early on when an asshole at a restraunt assaults a waiter for an accident that Mahree clearly isn’t okay with the more horrifying side of things, she still dosen’t quite grasp WHY that happened, simply that it’s something that does reguarly she dosen’t like. It’s excellently, and unsuprisingly called back when they visit an ice cream place in the states and something similar happens.. but the guy takes it in stride, even ordering a sundae, to Maree’s confusion.

It’s what makes the film work and all the more striking: As Roscoe makes clear to Ron, whose admant about nto having a racist in the house, this is not her fault. While the film makes it clear Mahree’s behavior at first was not okay and her prejudiece is not okay, it also makes it VERY clear she’s a product of a terrible system and terrible parenting from people who choose to benneift from the system instead of challenge it. She’s only like this because she hasn’t had a reason to ever think diffrent and just took her parents at face value and no mater the country, this is something that sadly happens far too often: Someone hating a group or thinking discrimination is okay because that’s how they were taught and that’s all they’ve known and the only way to change that is to challenge that opinon and try to get them to have some empathy and see the other way and as this film shows it’s a struggle.. and at the end of the day while the Dellums make a concentrated effort, Maree is the one who has to realize what her parents taught her is bad and her country is inherently flawed and NEEDS to change, just like ours did, and STILL badly needs to.

And that’s where the nuance kicks in as the good congressman is understandable in not wanting a racist in his house... but his wife is equally right that Maree is not some easy symbol of his hatred towards south africa, but a girl who grew up knowing nothing more than the fucked up system, and eventually he comes around, realizing , especially after she apologizes for him even thinking she’d use a racial slur on piper after a very powerful conversation with the two and piper accidently saying she used the South African N Word, almost accidently getting her friend thrown out, that she simply hasn’t been outside her shell and gently guides her to keep reading roots, even letting her take it with her if she wants back home. The film shows the full pain of the situation but also shows change is posisble. Again it’s not easy, Mahree has a panic attack waiting in an almost all black line in school and it’s shown to be as horrible a thought as it is., but she DOES change and it comes off as real, as someone realizing the system they grew up with is broken and needs to be fixed and she can’t just sit back and let it.

What makes this happen, besides the aformentioned kidnapping by saturday morning cartoon racists, is Piper confronting her after a friend from south africa forces Piper to acccept that while her and Mahree are friends, Mahree might not seee her as equal and Piper in turn in a heated argument and easily Simmons best performance of the film, that things are broken and wrong and that her “firend”, her nanny/servant back home, is not happy. It leaves Mahree crying and Ron telling her the honest truth: Change was, and again still is but this was 2000 and while we should’ve had this talk disney channel wasn’t ready for it, needed to make things better here.. and tha’ts what south african’s doing> Fighting for equal rights at last. It’s some powerful, heavy as hell stuff you woudln’t expect from a line of movie that also include a robot house, before that was an actual thing, a merMAN dad MerMan, a boy slowly turning into a leprechaun, and at least two diffrent movies centering around wacky kidnappings. It’s a nuanced and hard look at race, as hard as late 90′s jsut turned into the 2000′s disney could get mind, aimed at kids and the film, whiel stilted really has my utter praise. It’s genuinely moving, well acted and teaches a valuable message that while not eveyrone can change.. it dosen’t hurt to try and help them, as well as the equal message that change start with YOU. someone has to WANT to be better and learn and actually let other people in to help them. And I wont’ lie and say this is the most naunced or subtle film.. at time’s it’s about as subtle as a ralph wiggum throught he window

But sometimes you don’t need to be. It also taught kids about apartheid, not me as I barely saw the film, but many learned of something ghoulsih that had barely ended at the time of the film’s release, something I only learned about as a teen via bloom county and a diffrent world, which has an utterly awesome apartheid episode “A World Alike”. Seriously check it out if you have prime, as it shows that america isn’t the only country with a deep history of ingraned racisim. And was it an easy way to have an anti racisim narriative without fully confronting america’s own racist history? Yup. Just.. yup. Can I blame Disney Channel for it when they clearly, while equipped to tackle racisim, weren’t ready to tackle something that dense or heavy, and while Proud Family later would there’s a diffrence between a 20 minute one off episode of a cartoon and 90 minutes of film? Yeah. For what it is and for what the time period is, I applaud this film taking on such a heavy topic with grace. Some goofyiness here and there yes and some lack of subtly.. but still grace. For what it is is, it’s pretty good and i hope to show it to my nieces one day soon. It has i’ts heart in the right place and thus has a place in my heart. See you next rainbow.

#the color of friendship #disney channel #dcom #disney channel original movie #black history month #black lives matter

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defenestrata · 6 years

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HYEONJIN + ALL GOTTA STAN THE ISFP

realm knows my weak spot !!! hyeonjin is my baby boy, my sun, my stars and i will rant about him forever —

QUESTIONS FOR YOUR OCs

What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

probably years. he’s good at observing his surroundings and also slipping into quiet existential thoughts so you could probably forget him in a store and come back two hours later to him staring blankly at a mannequin.

How easy is it for your character to laugh?

maybe a 7 on the scale of 1 to 10. he’s trained to not be too rambunctious when he laughs, but giggles and chuckles are easy to get out of him.

How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

is there something fundamentally wrong with my ocs if the two that have been asked about both need drugs. i hate. hyeonjin takes an anti-epilepsy drug that he’s addicted to to deal with anxiety attacks. the time of contemplation before sleeping is prime time for intrusive thoughts. so he has to take a dose.

How easy is it to earn their trust?

easier than a normal person. it comes to a point in his life that anyone who’s even remotely nice to him is considered a friend, and anyone who does him favours is deemed trustworthy. he’s a sensitive kid.

How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

hyeonjin is as quick to cut people off as he is to take them in. even the smallest act of betrayal will lead to hyeonjin ignoring you for the rest of your life. he’s hyper guarded and hyper open at the same time, it’s hard to explain.

Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?

laws are very flexible in his opinion. the law is usually made by people who are somewhat out of touch with reality. if a law doesn’t help people, or serve any other benevolent purpose, it’s not worth following.

What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

nostalgia isn’t very easy to trigger for him. his childhood was full of love and affection but also without any very clearly unique incidents. it felt like a movie character’s childhood. disneyland, trips to the beach, school days. nothing very standout. meeting his mother alone would be enough to make him remember the old days ( his parents are divorced btw ) but then it becomes a very, very painful feeling.

What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child?

oh god, what wasn’t he told to stop/start doing. being a child actor for a short while, and then constantly in the public eye because his father is a well-known and politically involved businessman and his best friend is instagram-famous — he always had to be conscious of whether he was slouching, how eloquently he spoke, being careful not to look disinterested and so on. so his childhood was pretty regimented.

Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?

he tries not to, to be polite, but the habit is steadily growing on him. his first swear word was probably said when he was fourteen or something and even then it was probably something pretty inoffensive like 제기랄 ( equivalent of bullshit ).

What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

oh. well, he’s been hiding a drug habit from his father since forever. it makes him feel really, really guilty, but he tries to justify it to himself by saying that the calmness that the drug gives him actually helps him fulfill his father’s expectations better. it’s still a weight on his psyche and he hates himself more for it.

How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

unfortunately, hyeonjin will only seek clarification if the person is close to them. otherwise that kind of admission of ignorance … yikes emoji.

How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?

suffer.

What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?

he doesn’t really know anything about fashion, and depends almost entirely on a team of stylists, his housekeeper and his best friend to dress. so he doesn’t really know what he looks best in. outsiders will have you know that he looks best in red.

What animal do they fear most?

hyeonjin is not a fan of snakes, which begs the question: how did he become one later ?

How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

if talking to heather ( a friend :) ), jiwon ( his best friend ) or sungmi ( his housekeeper / older sister figure ), he won’t think at all before talking. otherwise, he’s rehearsing every goddamn syllable in his head like three times.

What makes their stomach turn?

blood. mostly blood. people yelling at him. the thought of the people he loves being unhappy. people relying on him. being some kind of hero.

Are they easily embarrassed?

yes. thankfully, the people closest to him have learned to veer around his insecurities.

What embarrasses them?

positive reinforcement. praise, compliments, telling him to get out of his head and be happier, anything that makes him feel a little less dead inside makes him all blush emoji and flustered.

What is their favorite number?

5. it’s a nice, pleasant, round number.

If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?

familial love in his opinion is a much more jaded kind of platonic love: “i love you but you exhaust me — and there’s this quiet understanding that we’ll have to come apart.” platonic love is purer, teetering on the edge of irrationality but not there yet, a little restrained, never complete. and romantic love is complete. everything the person does is beautiful, nto categorised into good or bad. they become a part of you.

Why do they get up in the morning?

he’d rather not. but people love him. and (later on) people need him.

How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?

positive emotions manifest with more intensity in hyeonjin and so do negative emotions. it takes a bit to get him jealous but once he is, he can become pretty toxic and petty towards the person encroaching. this is almost entirely about his crush, though. he has nothing else to be jealous about.

How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)?

envious hyeonjin means a very repressed hyeonjin who will avoid the source of envy to the maximum possible extent and become distant.

Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom?

noooo. he was raised in a pretty conservative setting. sex and sex appeal makes him flustered to talk about. the most he’ll do is entertain jiwon’s rants about people finding him sexy, and even that with a bit of internal cringing.

What are their thoughts on marriage?

hyeonjin in a michael scott vc: marriage sounds nice. would love to be loved someday. jskjds but in all serious the idea of marriage is so lovely he’d love to be married but who’d marry him haha

What is their preferred mode of transportation?

limousine. sorry. he’s rich, and it’s comfortable.

What causes them to feel dread?

oh, loads of things. on especially shitty days, talking to any people. public speaking, being put on the spot, being on camera. anything that requires him to actually be active and do something. depression is a bitch, huh.

Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth?

depends on the context. if the unpleasant truth was unlikely to be uncovered later, then fine. if someone lives and dies with a lie, it didn’t hurt them, and it was fine.

Do they usually live up to their own ideals?

never. his ideals are too much for even the finest human being to comprehend. he wants to be the best possible son, friend, leader, actor, motivator, businessman and student. but obviously, it’s never going to happen. and anything less than success is failure.

Who do they most regret meeting?

no one. whomever he’s met have changed him into a version of himself perhaps more wounded, angry, cold, but it’s been for the better. he’s braver now as well.

Who are they the most glad to have met?

jiwon. it has to be jiwon. at least 50% of the reason why hyeonjin still stands is because of his best friend, who never fails to make him happy, just because he’s so sanguine, kind, optimistic, and encouraging. everything he himself should be.

Do they have a go-to story in conversation? Or a joke?

no, because all of his stories are either unrelatable ( oh lads do you ever get annoyed when the driver stocks coke in the limo when you asked for sprite ) or depressing ( yah so i killed a man that one time ).

Could they be considered lazy?

i wouldn’t use lazy because hyeonjin has a mental health condition that forces him into passivity. but he does have difficulty putting himself out there.

How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt?

im-fucking-possible. lmao hyeonjin’s got guilt at the back of his mind every second of every day about something or the other. drinking, taking his pills, lying, not being a good friend. but at the same time he’s just so tired of it that he feels nothing very strongly.

How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive?

always ! he hates to let people know he’s having a hard time ever so it’s a good distraction to fall into what someone else is talking about and support them all the way. having others be happy around him calms him down to some extent too.

Do they actively seek romance, or do they wait for it to fall into their lap?

hyeonjin loves the idea of love so much. all he wants is a nice relationship, and he’d be a fantastic boyfriend. however, shyness is a thing, and he hasn’t had the courage to approach his crushes. except jiwon; he did have the courage to confess to him, but that had it’s own strings attached.

Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)?

nothing in particular, no ! but as a sidenote hyeonjin has a fairly decent memory.

What memory do they revisit the most often?

a trip to los angeles when he was thirteen with the chois aka jiwon’s family. jiwon’s elder sister jiyoon took them around disneyland for the whole day, he almost puked on the rollercoaster, saw fireworks — it was a moment of nothing but pure elation.

How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people?

oh, if they consider someone a good friend ? what are flaws. no flaws. nothing but good things. happiness. the best.

How sensitive are they to their own flaws?

meanwhile, he himself has a million flaws. he picks at his demeanour and behaviour whenever in the public eye because for the longest time, his father did it for him. he thinks he’s a bit cowardly, not macho male. long story short, he’s pretty sensitive to his own flaws, but if someone points them out he won’t be offended. he’ll just be sad, because it’s true.

How do they feel about children?

being a naturally sensitive person, he has a strong maternal instinct towards children, especially younger ones. in practical terms, he may not be fantastic at caring for them, because he doesn’t really know how, but the non-judgemental nature of kids brings his walls down. he loves kids. he wants kids.

How badly do they want to reach their end goal?

so badly. so basically his end goal is for the violent organisation that wants to destroy capitalist society to successfully establish itself in the western world again, after a hiatus of nearly fifty years. and this end has to be met. otherwise, his life, throwing everything away — would’ve had no purpose.

If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so?

beautiful, good, and happy people. just, people with a soothing, carefree aura. male, female, nonbinary, anybody, hyeonjin’ll hook onto you immediately.

QUESTIONS FOR CREATORS

A) Why are you excited about this character?

he’s my boy !! when it comes to empathy and sincere kindness, he’s probably the kindest oc i have, at least in this au. also he goes through major char dev to become a lot more harsh, cruel and antagonist-like ( because he is an antagonist, for erich at least ), but he still wants to do the right thing above all.

B) What inspired you to create them?

ehhhhhh ok so the outside vibe of hyeonjin ( sad rich kid ) was a super old idea i had for the story, but the personality of this kid was totally different. then i transplanted the personality of an older oc into this exterior and boom it’s hyeonjin.

C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?

initially, yes, because his story takes place primarily in korea and i had difficulty relating it back to the main action which was supposed to happen in london. but with some tweaks to his backstory ( he studied in the uk ) and lore, i think i’ve made it work.

D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?

not too much. the prototype sad rich kid was just a knockoff of artemis fowl, aka much younger and much less of a sweetheart. now hyeonjin’s 20 in the plot.

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

i think so ! but their tendency of shoving trauma into a closet instead of dealing with it or seeking help could be potential damage to any relationships ( and it is. stay tuned :) )

F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?

i just feel sorry for him sjdsjdsjf bb you’ve got a long, long way to go — he’s def one of the more unhappy ocs i have.

G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

a tendency to be a little sanctimonious. i am pure and i am virtuous and i must do the right thing. he’s a bit self-righteous which gets annoying when writing but that’s more because i’m a cynical person.

H) What trait do you admire most?

he’s a good kid. he’s supportive, understanding, polite, genuinely respectful and isn’t really ever petty or vitriolic. a pure boy. baby boy.

I) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe?

yes, because i’m not creative.

J) Did you have to manipulate or exclude canon factors to allow them to create their character?

mostly family stuff had to be changed to make his home life a little more poisonous. sort of an odd thing to mention, but initially hyeonjin lived with his mother ( who was the businesswoman parent ) while his father was the deadbeat divorcee. but i wanted to talk about how mothers can sometimes get fucked over in divorces, so i swapped them.

#holy hecc #realmzenith #oc talk.

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