#yes the original had its own problems but my god nobody fucking understands the movie

[pumpkinsouppe]

IM SICK OF ALL THESE WOLFMAN REMAKES!!!!!!!!

[perpetuallyfive]

some thoughts on Endgame

I always find it a lot easier to write very long rants about things I dislike than praise about things that I like. It just feels like the good things are obvious, you know? So compiling them in lists feels a little pointless.

It’s why I haven’t written anything about Endgame yet. I honestly thought Infinity War was pretty average at best, so the fact that I fucking loved practically every single minute of Endgame kind of caught me by surprise. It checked so many of my boxes that it’s almost hard to even articulate. 

So much of what was good about it honestly felt almost inevitable.

Mark me down as pretty confused then as I read some of the negative responses. Like... obviously, I’m just being dense. Nothing exists, especially on the internet, without some negative response. And I don’t even mean that in a pithy way. People are really different and what works for one person doesn’t work for everyone.

Which brings me back to my earlier point.

Just because I thought some of this stuff was obvious or amazing doesn’t mean everyone did, so here are a few observations, in an unordered list:

The way that time travel works in the movie is deliberately left a little vague, in my opinion, to allow wiggle room for the multiverse moving forward, especially as they expand into streaming services.

They do however clearly say that you cannot change your own past. Bruce says it. This means that Steve absolutely is not in our timeline, whatever the writers might say about it now. He’s not. In our timeline, he knew Peggy married someone else. That’s in his past. He cannot change his past in his own timeline. Therefor he cannot change who Peggy marries in his own timeline.

Seriously, he’s not in our timeline. They’re just wrong.

This means you have a million possibilities in fanfic for all the things Steve did that sent out ripples in his own new timeline or the many multiverses he could have created. It’s a fucking candy shop.

Try not to be too hard on the writers for having no idea what they’re talking about, I guess; it’s hard writing characters that are way smarter than you.

Am I less than charitable toward the writers because of their dumb takes on Natasha in defending why she’s not a part of the funeral at the end? Yes.

Just put a fucking second wreath there, god damn, would it have been so hard.

Framing Nebula’s storyline as a bad thing, which I’ve seen a few times now, is frankly insane to me. She isn’t, as the daily dot put it, killing herself. She missed her chance to save her sister five years ago and has regretted it every since. The second Gamora is at stake this time, she makes it clear that she would sacrifice anything (even someone who looked like her), to prevent losing her sister again. That’s great shit!

I am bummed we don’t get original Gamora back, but I’m also intrigued by the soft reset this does on her relationship with everyone in the Guardians. I wonder what their plans are with that in Vol 3. In many ways, her healing process away from Thanos was sidelined in the first two films and this allows the possibility of reframing that as more central to the focus in the third. Fingers crossed.

More Gamora and Nebula in general but especially in Guardians 3 please; I might threaten to retroactively like this movie less if this is the last we get of this much attention on their relationship, please and thank you.

The problem with the MCU crossover movies is they have to exist as two things at once. They have to be a movie that works as its own thing with good timing, pacing, structure, and an end that feels conclusive. They also have to pay off minor characters that mainstream audiences might not care about, as part of larger world building and the stories shared across an entire universe. Endgame, in my opinion, did a much better job of it than Infinity War or Ultron. (it’s hard to compare it with Avengers, when the scale was much more intimate.) 

No but really, I don’t think a lot of us in fandom have an appreciation for how many people don’t know any of this shit we take for granted. A shocking number of the people I have spoken to IRL who are entirely apart from fandom didn’t even know what “on your left” was a reference to and were actually a little confused by that moment. 

Just think about that and understand the levels this movie has to operate on at all times. It’s almost enough to make me feel bad for the writers, except they still said dumb shit about Nat, so I’m good.

I did actually love all the more subtle callbacks, like Natasha’s necklace and T’Challa knowing Clint’s name, but the direct quotes were pretty great too, especially Steve’s reaction to “I could do this all day.” Super charming.

Another awkward thing about the crossovers is they have to try to level the playing field slightly and there are some Avengers who are just way more powerful than others. Carol was disappointingly absent, but she’s also insanely OP. It’s why Thor got depressed and it’s why the Russos now say that Hulk will have limited use of one arm. They nerfed some of the classic Avengers, but kept Carol full powered just off in space. That’s preferable, so long as she gets more screen time later and jesus please fix the wig. Or just do the actual haircut now that it doesn’t have to be a secret.

Please dear god the hair is great in concept but seriously if there’s anything about the straight agenda ruining Endgame it’s how borderline soccer mom they managed to make that hair look.

Natasha deserved better and I think we can all agree on that, but here’s hoping that her prequel is deliberately designed to echo the destination we know she’s headed toward and to give her a better resolution more in line with what she deserved. I want to believe that they didn’t give her a full ending entirely because they knew she still had a movie coming up and didn’t want to create that sense of finality that might keep audiences from seeing it. Here’s hoping they can make it work. 

Like specifically with very different writers, please. Hopefully a woman. You’ve maybe heard of them before, one of them wrote Guardians, the movie that nobody thought could work and fucking made it work. Yeah.

Tony and Steve were always headed in opposing directions at the end of their arc. This has been covered. Tony went from living selfishly to living selflessly. He went from a playboy bachelor, to a husband, to a father. His one priority when he decided he had to save the world wasn’t even himself, it was specifically keeping his daughter in existence. He went from a selfish dick with daddy issues to someone whose only priority was being a dad.

it was perfect. Like people can say otherwise... but they’re wrong.

 I’m an expert on this, clearly. Tony’s death was perfect. 

THEY FINALLY GAVE ME RESCUE. I loved everything about it, from Tony planning it carefully for a long time -- like obviously I think it’s because he was customizing the design to be more in line with Pepper’s wants and values, like it is in the comics -- to the fact that it actually does look more defensively focused but still super capable in battle. I want to watch this movie a billion times, honestly, but this scene in particular. I need to know everything about what her suit can do.

Steve was always going to end up settling down. We don’t actually know what he did in his own timeline -- again, IT’S NOT OURS -- so there’s a chance he was still a bit of a troublemaker, but honestly the five years seemed to take a lot out of him. He doesn’t always need a war, and that actually is forward momentum and growth. I get that some people are against the idea and think that getting to be with Peggy was somehow a step back, but I’m not sure I buy that.

Tony taking out the arc reaction at the end of IM3 wasn’t actually about him erasing his trauma or leaving it behind, and Steve getting to be with Peggy doesn’t erase his growth. It was part of it.

Theoretically Sharon was always an option, except the audience (and fandom) response to her was pretty terrible, so actually she wasn’t.

And not to just keep harping on points made in an article that I think is frankly pretty terrible, but Steve going back to the past instead of settling in the present wasn’t about compulsory heterosexuality so much as it was about a franchise that is going to keep making movies needing to keep the next decade of films in mind. 

If Steve is still around in the now, that will always linger as a nagging question. The same way that people can’t shut up about where Carol was for the last decade, Steve hanging around in retirement refusing to help would hang over the next phases of movies like a cloud. Putting him in the past lets him live (which he deserves) and clears the slate.

Let Steve rest but, more than that, dear god won’t you please let Chris Evans rest too.

This goes back to how these movies, especially the crossovers, have to work on almost too many levels and it’s frankly shocking that they manage to do it and still have moments of sincere humanity and sweetness. 

Like I’m not going to try to oversell it, but seriously fucking think about the fact that one of the most successful blockbuster movies of all time actually has quiet moments where people talk about trauma, loss, parental abuse or neglect, failure, and depression. 

Hey remember when the movie gave us acknowledgement of Rhodey and Nebula’s disabilities? In the possibly going to be most successful movie of all time, they had characters with disabilities say how they’re different now but it’s okay, they work with what they got, and they bonded over that and it was so fucking shocking for me and BEAUTIFUL. Just a reminder for us all that THAT happened in the movie that may actually pass Avatar to become the MOST SUCCESSFUL FILM OF ALL TIME.

Just allowing another moment to let that sink in while I try to wrap this up (for now).

ps I can’t believe this movie made me have nice thoughts on Ultron, which I fucking despise with most of my being. 

Actually I might have to take back every nice thing I said, just because of the Ultron thing. How dare you, film.

But still lol at the fact that even talking about Ultron for a few seconds was enough to make Tony Stark pass the fuck out. Hard same, Tony. 

LOOK OBVIOUSLY I LOVED MORGAN STARK. I AM EXCITED ABOUT MORGAN STARK. SHE IS A PRECIOUS PERFECT ANGEL AND I LOVE HER.

SHIT.

So this is a totally incomplete list but here you go. Some of my thoughts on Endgame.

[imacrowcawcaw]

@oblvions @shes-outta-sight @lazingonsunday @karrotkate @satans-helper thank you all for the tags 💗💕

A buttload of info about me:

Last thing I read: "Lovers" by @satans-helper 😍😍😍

Favorite Book: The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle

Favorite Movie: Beetlegeuse

Dream Date: Imagine this: a nice, plush couch, covered in down pillows and fluffy blankets. There is a fire in the brick fireplace, the wood smoke combines with the scent of Nag Champa incense and the homemade treats that cover the low table next to the couch. There are brownies, bread rolls, cheeses, bowls of fruit, dipping sauces, cakes, sandwiches - a whole feast of my favorite foods. My partner and I would cuddle up on that couch, listening to my favorite symphonies on the record player in the corner and talking for hours. This isn't really a first date thing, more like an established relationshil date, but god I'd love to just spend an afternoon surrounded with my favorite things and my favorite person.

Do I have a crush?: Not really. There are people I find very very attractive (a friend, Sam Kiszka, Duff Mckagan in his 20s, Lucy Lui) but nobody that I'm actually romantically and sexually into.

Hobbies: Swimming, observing nature, browsing Pinterest, daydreaming, writing, reading, making art, singing, listening to music, love to cook

My favorite time of day: late afternoon, right before the sun sets. I'm usually free to do what I like, the temperature starts to drop, I can watch the sun... it's nice

If I could choose what I looked like, anything, what would it be?: I want tattoos, and more piercings, I'd love to change my hair color again - it's been natural for awhile but I think I want either burgundy or bright blue. WINGS! I kind of want giant, strong fairy wings, and maybe glowing eyes, a forked tongue, and tattoos that move and change (kinda like Maui lol)

Am I romantic?: Yeah, I'd say I am. I love to treat people, friends and significant others, but I'd be especially affectionate and romantic for a partner. I'm constantly buying gifts and things that remind me of them, cooking for them, planning dates and buying tickets for things I know they like, quietly taking care of stuff I know they need to do, cuddling, complimenting... I love to shower my partner in affection 24/7

My favorite kind of weather: Late Autumn, generally. About 55ºF, cloudy but not raining, windy

What do I like to talk about?: Lol I talk a whole lot and I've probably talked about everything at some point. One of my close friends and I particularly love to debate religion, mythology, magic, history, and the intersections of those. We also regularly plan heists and crimes lmao

My turn-ons: Long eyelashes, pouty lips, dirty hands (motor oil, paint, flour, etc), sarcasm, seeing someone get excited about something, compassion, casual physical affection

My turn-offs: Nastiness without a reason, knees (I just think knees look weird idk), Trump supporters, 100% pessimism (I understand being depressed or doubtful or being generally a pessimist, but if you adamantly refuse to see anything in a good light and try to ruin it for others f u c k y o u)

If I got a tattoo, what would it be and where?: ohhh I want tattoos so bad but I'm saving up and I'm not certain about some yet.... but I know that I'm getting a tree of life matching with my mom, I want mushrooms, pine trees, lavender, wildflowers (all for personal reasons). I'd also like to make maybe a charm bracelet of sorts with little charms for my favorite bands, books, movies, and other peices of media. I know that interests change and I might not like something in 30 years, but I see my life in periods of interests and I want to catalogue the things that shaped me

My pets: I have 3 cats - Pumpkin Pie, Lady, and Sweetheart

My dream job: I just want to live a free life doing what I want. I want to grow my own food for the most part, and raise animals, and paint, and write, and play music, and go on random adventures, go antiquing, decorate my home from my travels, learn without expectations - I don't want to exchange a fulfilling life for financial security from some mundane modern job.

My dream place to live: Secluded, in the forests of Oregon (or maybe Pennsylvania idk) on the bottom third of a mountain, on my own little farm

My dream vacation: I just wanna go explore historical landmarks and buildings

My dream house: A beautiful historical house -- like an 1870s American farmhouse, or a craftsman cottage, or a Victorian painted Lady, or maybe a New York brownstone -- filled with antiques and records and books and artifacts that I've collected. I LOVE antiques so much, everything would be of fine craftsmanship, it would be lavish and inviting and packed with interesting items at every turn (I want my house to be a curios shop lol) I also want a big ass kitchen and nice woodwork, I literally get horny over original built ins

My piercings: Sadly, I only have my standard ear piercings right now, but I think I'll get more soon. A nose ring, eye brow bar (yes I know that's so 2000s but I like them), probably 4 more on each ear, navel, nipples

If I had kids, what would I name them?: I love older, interesting names, so - Euphemia, Hartford, Monroe, Malory, Louise (me lol), August, Fredrick

My worst traits: I'm incredibly stubborn; I love talking to people but I'm awkward; lazy and don't care; I'm a bit of a collector/hoarder; I bottle up any anger or sadness I feel so I don't inconvenience others

My best traits: I love to give and help; I try to make people comfortable around me/in my home; I have excellent taste; I appreciate quality, culture, and creativity; I have many interesting interests that I'm eager to share and learn more about; I'm very creative

My worst fear: a painful death - I'm not afraid of dying, even though I'd rather not, I just don't want it to hurt

What do I want to eat right now?: Well, considering that I just ate my first bit of solid food in 3 days and immediately had to run to the bathroom... nothing

My favorite vacation memory: *blushes* my first kiss AND nearly my first time (we went like halfway): making out with this dude, son of my mom's friend, at my family cabin

My favorite city: I really don't know. Timber, OR, let's say

My favorite social media platform: Tumblr or Pinterest (does that count?)

My favorite article of clothing: My leather motorcycle jacket. I can't actually ride a motorcycle (trying to remedy that because *sexy*) but I got it a few years ago and it makes me feel so fucking badass. It's heavy, about 15 pounds of good quality leather, has lots of secret pockets in the lining and some cool looking zippers and studs, but nothing crazy. It's hella warm and comfy, I wear it everyday it's cold enough to

Do I play any sports?: pfft no. I like to swim, and I'm interested in baseball and tennis, but I suck at them and also I just don't like team sports

My favorite meal: What I order when I go to Buffalo Bills - a pesto/feta/mozzarella/Italian sausage/basil/tomato/garlic pizza, with homemade potato chips and chunky blue cheese dressing for dipping. If I had room, I'd finish with Marionberry cheesecake pie from Sherri's (but I am incredibly sick and have no faith in getting better enough so I feel like I'll never be able to eat like this again)

What am I excited for?: The winter holidays! I'm atheist, so Christmas is all about the personal stuff and non religious family traditions for me. I love the decorations, the music, seeing my family, baking, giving and receiving presents, it's all just so fun

What am I not excited for?: Cleaning my room, it really really needs it though. Also just continuing to live like this. I'm not suicidal, I'm just in a lot of pain constantly and I don't know what to do

When was the last time I cried?: an hour or so ago, I'm in loads of pain right now

What is something I hate about the world?: There's too much to choose from

What is something I love about the world?: children and nature

My favorite scents: vanilla, lavender, pine, Nag Champa incense, BBQ meat, pizza with basil, rosemary, my Dad's cologne

Cats or dogs?: kitties 💗

What kind of sleeper am I?: A weird one lol. I can't lay on my stomach for more than 15 minutes without it making me incredibly nauseous for the rest of the day, but it's also my favorite way to sleep cause its comfy somehow... I can't lay on my back without a pillow either, 30 seconds in and the nerves pinch so bad I'm screaming. I snore, and I sleep deep, but it takes a long time to fall asleep and usually only beeping or banging noises wake me up??? Like I said, I sleep weird

How long would I survive in a zombie apocalypse?: I really don't know. I have some skills and the drive to learn to fight, but I am currently, as I'm sure y'all can tell, very sick and I don't think I'd be able to live with so much movement and so little medicine

Am I trusting?: Generally, I probably trust too much but I'm not gonna stop

What fictional characters do I identify with?: there are many I like but none I identify with

My most common labels: Mom friend, butch, that weird fat chick (doesn't bother me tho), the well behaved daughter, old soul

My life's anthem: I really am not sure if this is a good anthem song but I love it so so much... Take Me In Your Arms (Rock Me A Little While) by Kim Weston - you see where I get my love of long titles lol

Problems I'm dealing with: my health and whatever painful sickness is wrecking me, figuring out what to do with my life, saving money, getting my anxiety under control, getting the house to actually heat up because I'm cold as fuck

How can someone win me over?: let me express my interests and feelings, show kindness, be funny

What is something people don't know about me?: Idk

Not tagging anyone, this took over an hour

[bananxjin]

Two Halves of a Whole Idiot // Kim Seokjin x Reader

|| List ||

Word Count: 3,018

Synopsis: All it takes is one phone call for Reader to realize her feelings might run a little deeper than she’d originally thought. AKA: “Hey, let’s date!”

//Heavily inspired by this video which every Jin stan needs to watch immediately. Its ruined me.

I don’t think I’ve ever cranked a fic out faster. Not spellchecked so there might be errors! Apologies!//

Fluff || Fluff || Heavy on the Fluff

☆

“No she didn’t.”

“She absolutely did!” Jin yells into the receiver, sounding completely baffled. “She was like, ‘I guess it’s just kind of weird? You’re nearly thirty years old, and you’re still collecting Pokemon cards?’.” You roll your eyes. “And then when I asked to see a dessert menu, she said she doesn’t do desserts because they aren’t healthy.” He sighed, “I mean yeah, devil’s food cake isn’t healthy, but it sure is fucking tasty after eating a big dinner!”

You frown and lean back further into your computer chair. ‘I’m really sorry she didn’t end up being what you wanted, Jinnie.” You coo. You knew Jin had had a crush on this girl for months now. Everytime Jin would flirt with her or make an attempt to ask her out, she’d brush him off or as Jin would say, ‘She’s playing hard to get!’ -- You recall the rare times where she’d flirt with him or how he’d turn to jelly anytime she brushed her fingertips along his shoulders while he was working.

It was all for naught though, and deep down, you knew. She’d only use his crush on her to her complete advantage anytime something was ‘Too hard’ or if she was leaving early and couldn’t be bothered to finish a project -- She’d run to Jin, butter him up, and leave him in her wake. You didn’t want to say Jin was foolish, but…

He’s a bit foolish.

But that’s what love does to ya, right? Jin sighs again, “It’s not your fault, (Y/n). I think it’s just going to suck seeing her at work again on Monday.” You hummed in response, “I mean the date was terrible! I can already see it, she’s going to tell everyone…”

“I’d say don’t worry about it.” You responded, sitting up a bit. “You know everybody in that building loves you; you’re a walking teddy bear, and say she does manage to change one or two people’s opinions of you, who gives a shit?” You’re voice trembled a bit. Jin doesn’t respond.

“The people who want to be your friends aren’t going to let some crappy date with a snobby, spoiled brat ruin that.” You continued, “I know if she says anything to me, I’ll tell her where she can shove her rumors.”

Jin chuckled, “That actually made me feel a little bit better; thank you, (Y/n).” His sweet laughter brings a smile to your face; it never fails to do so. Ever since you’ve met Jin, that’s always been the best part about him. His laughter paired with his beautiful smile and goofy sense of humor. He’s always been your brightest ray of sunshine.

Then you start thinking about it…

“Do you have plans next weekend? There’s a new restaurant that opened up on the dock, and I really want to try it! They have boba and red bean pastries!” He exclaims excitedly, but you barely hear him over your own thoughts.

You’d always look the other way anytime he’d flirt with her because “That’s gross.” and “I’ll never understand why you like her; she won’t even give you the time of day.”, or when she would flirt with him, it’d make your blood boil. Yes, it was because you knew she was taking advantage of your best friend, but deep down, it was something much bigger.

Even now, after sitting here for the past hour, listening to him complain about the date going horribly and how his idea of her just crumbled -- You’re kind of happy that the date didn’t work out. That sounds terrible, but at least you’re being honest with yourself.

“(Y/n)? Did I lose ya?” He coos. You clear your throat, blushing a bit.

All those times in college when the two of you would stay up late, insisting you’re gonna study, but you played video games together instead. Falling asleep, cuddled up together on the couch; in your bed; in his bed. Being cuddled up to him during movie nights with your friends, or sharing food and drinks when you went out to eat together.

These feelings.

They’ve always been there.

“Yeah, I’d love to go, Jin! Will Saturday afternoon work?” He giggles on the other end, “Saturday afternoon is perfect!” He exclaims. “Ugh, I’ve gotta go now, though. I’m pretty sure my laundry finished like half an hour ago, and I don’t want anybody stealing my clothes from the dryer.” He sighs, “Thank you so much for listening to me whine about last night.”

You smile, “It’s no problem!” You exclaim, hesitating a bit before adding, “You know I’d do anything for you.”

You can hear him smirk, “I’ll remember that next weekend when we get the bill.”

“Hey!” You yell, making him burst out into a full belly laugh. “I’ll talk to ya later, okay?”

The two of you say your farewells before hanging up. You toss your phone onto the bed and slump downwards until you slide out of your computer chair and onto your floor like a puddle of mushy goo.

“So we’re really doing this, huh?” You mumble to nobody in particular, staring up at you ceiling. “We’re just gonna suddenly fall in love with World Wide Cute Guy over here and call it a day, huh?” You continue a little louder this time.

The anxiety begins to bubble in your tummy. What if you tell him and he shoots you down? You two have only known each other for nearly a decade now, surely it wouldn’t ruin your friendship?

A thought suddenly hits you, and you gasp. Did you actually end the call?!

The speed at which you move from your floor to the bed would put Speedy Gonzales to shame. You’re relieved to find that the call had most definitely ended, but on your lockscreen was a text notification from Jin. All it said was, “Seriously, thanks for always being there for me! I don’t know what I’d do without you!” Followed by a spam of pink, sparkly heart emojis.

Your heart swelled ten times larger, cheeks turning a dusty pink and you couldn’t hold back the soft smile forming on your lips. You wouldn’t know what to do without Jin yourself. Your best friend Jin, who gave your forehead kisses. Jin, who held your hand during scary movies or while walking down the street. Jin, who will buy the largest bowl of orange sherbet that’s offered, and then spoon feed it to you even though he bought you your own cone. You can’t help but cover your face when you remember the first time he did that.

“Wow! You actually ate off my spoon!” He laughed. “Yeah! You hold a spoonful of ice cream up to my face, I’m going to take the bite!” You laughed in response.

His laughter slowly died down as he took his own bite, “You know when they do that during anime, they always joke about how they shared an indirect kiss.” He giggled. You didn’t think much about it as you worked your way through your cone. Then slowly, you put the puzzle pieces together in your mind, nearly forcing your heart to stop.

“So, (Y/n)... How was our first indirect kiss?”

You huff out and fall back onto your bed, body feeling all warm and tingly as you begin to wonder what it’d actually feel like to kiss Prince Pillow Lips. You rake your fingers through your hair and turn to your phone again.

“Okay, okay.” You breathe out, trying to calm yourself. You’re suddenly hyper aware of everything. Every aspect of your relationship; every word you’ve ever said to him; every interaction the two of you have ever had. What should you say to him? Do you even respond? There’s not really much you can say, “Yeah, my heart would probably crumble if I couldn’t see you anymore?” God, clingy much?

You swallow and scroll through some reaction images you could send to him. You find a goofy one of Hobi laughing really hard with hearts surrounding him. Would that be weird to send? Namjoon’s the one that made it look like that and you’ve sent it to him before, but what if…

You scroll back through your chat thread, re-reading old conversations. Nothing here to indicate any developing feelings; just a bunch of terrible jokes, “I’m here!” notifications, and a few serious messages about Coworker that let Jin down.

You could hear your heart thrumming in your ears ‘Just do it!’ your brain screams. You feel little beads of sweat building on your forehead as you stare down the little “Call” button in the corner of the screen. What’s your excuse? The two of you just got off the phone, what else could you possibly have to say other than, “Hey, I just missed your voice, and I realized a couple of things about you and me-”

Somewhere in your dissociation, you’ve already hit the call button, and Jin’s been on the line for the last fifteen seconds asking if you’re there. You swallow and put the phone up to your ear.

“(Y/n)?! Is everything okay?”

“Yeah…” You rasp. “Is something wrong? Did you need to-”

“Let’s go out.”

… … … Silence.

“What?” He asks in a hushed whisper.

“Let’s go out… On a date.”

Silence. Again.

“Is this a joke? Are… Are you messing with me right now? Because (Y/n), if you are, then that’s really mean, and I don’t-”

“No, I’m being completely serious.” You respond, surging with confidence as you sit up right, “I know I said next Saturday, but actually I want to go to that new restaurant today, and afterwards I want to get ice cream from that little shop near the ferries? And then maybe we can go to the observatory later and look at the stars or something, I don’t know! But what I do know is…”

You take a deep breath, “I want to be close to you right now.”

Again with that blasted silence except this time, you’re actually worried he might’ve hung up on you.

He didn’t.

But your worrying persists.

“Okay.”

“... What?”

“Let’s do that, then. I’ll be by to pick you up in a half hour, yeah?”

||

As promised, you went to that new restaurant. Despite how awkward you felt over the phone, Jin acted like nothing was out of the ordinary. He carried the conversation in the car, telling you all about this American video game that he could finally buy and play in Korea, or how his parents were back in town and his mom desperately wanted to see you again, “She thinks of you as like her own daughter; she loves you!” He laughed.

The waiter directed “The sweet couple” to one of the outside tables where you got a lovely view of the ocean and all the tourists coming in and out of the ferry boats. Jin insisted on taking a cute picture together with the ocean in the background. You smiled through the anxiety and Jin held up his fingers in a peace sign. You had to complain after seeing the picture because “I look terrible in that! Please delete it!” And of course Jin had to laugh at you, “You look as cute as you always do, (Y/n)~” He cooed, leaning in closer to your face as he said your name. It did nothing to settle the butterflies in your tummy.

Damn him.

After lunch, Jin immediately grabbed your hand and dragged you further down the docks so you could get ice cream from the little ice cream shop. Jin had to get his Extra Large bowl of orange sherbet, and you got your usual cookie dough cone. That lasted all of thirty seconds when a seagull swooped down and reached for your ice cream. He didn’t manage to grasp it, but the fear of him swooping you caused you to drop your cone on the ground.

Jin couldn’t hold back his squeaky laughter, keeping a hold on his ice cream bowl as he doubled over in his cute, dumb laughing fit. “Please don’t worry, (Y/n)! I’ll gladly share my ice cream with you!”

The two of you took a seat on one of the benches. As promised, Jin took turns spoon feeding you and taking bites of his own. “That couldn’t have worked out better, actually.” He mutters through mouthfuls of creamy sherbet, “I knew I wasn’t going to be able to finish this all on my own.”

You roll your eyes, instinctively opening your mouth so he can feed you, “Then why do you always order the biggest size dummy!” You demand, covering a hand over your mouth. He chipmunks the ice cream in his cheeks, smiling wide at you, “Because I know you’ll eat it with me!”

It wasn’t quite late enough to see the stars just yet, so the two of you took a stroll through one of the many shopping districts in the area. Jin pulled you into one of his favorite shops so you could look at CD’s and cute stationary. From the moment you two walked through the door, Jin always caught you glancing back at the gudetama stationary set. Despite your stubborn adamancy, Jin insisted he buy it for you. “It’s the least I could do since you took me out to that restaurant!”

“I took you-! You’re the one that insisted on paying for the meal!” You bit back. He snickered, “It’s the thought that counts, (Y/n).” You stubbornly walked away towards the beauty products while Jin took the stationary set up to the cashier.

You thanked Jin for the stationary once you left, but you still berated him for actually buying it, “You didn’t have to do that!” You whined cutely.

“But I wanted to!” He mocked you in the same whiny voice before promptly grabbing your hand. You could feel your cheeks heating up, but you refused to say anything. Jin smirked and laced his fingers through yours. “Let’s head back to the car. It’ll be dark enough by the time we get to the observatory.”

||

The observatory was surprisingly quiet for a Saturday night, mostly consisting of parents with younger children or older couples. The entire top floor was rounded, encasing telescopes that allowed you to look over the brightly lit city or up at the moon and stars. A little further down the hall was the gift shop where most of the kids would end up lingering.

You and Jin went through and looked through each telescope, wanting to get different views of the city and sky, but you kept lingering back towards a specific one that offered you a wonderful view of the ocean. “I love how the lights just reflect off the water.” You whisper, “The ocean looks beautiful at night.”

You’re startled as you feel Jin wrap his arms around your waist, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Hmm… I’ve seen way prettier.” He responds nonchalantly. You snort, “You talking about when you look in the mirror?” You ask somewhat jokingly. He smirks, “Sometimes, but even more beautiful than that…”

He gently pulls you back, turning you around to face him. He takes a good look at your face before a big dorky smile breaks out onto his own, “That,” He says, “Is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You swallow thickly, tilting your head to the side, “What?”

“You.” He whispers, “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He says, sliding his hands down your arms and into your hands. You smirk at him, “I am sweaty and i’m sure my hair looks like a total mess right now, how can you joke like that? It’s mean.”

His large hands move down to cup your waist and pull you closer to him, “I’m not joking.” He says sternly, gazing into your eyes.

“(Y/n), I’ve liked you since our college days together.” He whispered leaning his forehead against yours. You ran your hands up his arms, and flattened your palms against his chest. “I thought that maybe if I get into a relationship with someone else, I’d be able to get over you, but…” His eyes search yours for a moment, “(Y/n), I need you. I need you and all of your affection and all of your baggage.” He chuckles a bit, “I’m a selfish man. I want all of it; everything... God, when you asked me out on the phone earlier, I thought... I didn't know what to think.” He huffs out.

Your eyes remain glued to him, unable to look away. He just laid it all out there for you in a complete state of vulnerability. Time to match his sincerity. “That’s wild because I’ve been trying to deny my feelings for you for years now.” You make a face immediately after saying that; way to ruin the moment, you think, but Jin doesn’t mind. He can’t help but laugh, “W-what I mean is…” You clear your throat, hoping Jin won’t notice your red cheeks, “I never thought you’d see me the same way I see you, so I thought… I’d rather preserve our friendship than take the risk.” You mutter, gaze flickering down to his lips. He smiles, “I don’t want you to deny your feelings anymore.” He whispers, “And I don’t ever want you to get over me.” You whisper back.

He finally leans forward, closing the gap between the two of you; finally gives you a taste of what you’ve been craving for so long. A soft, sweet, loving kiss that you want to pour all of your love into just for Jin. He inhales, smiling against your lips before wrapping his arms around your waist and dipping you. You squeal and wrap your arms around his neck. “I’m going to love on you so much tonight.” He mutters against your kiss swollen lips. You can’t help but giggle and lean in to kiss him again.

“But seriously… We’re both kinda dumb, aren’t we?” He laughs.

“Maybe just a little!”

[tnffc]

Okay so this one sounds like it could be full of potential. “Why do you always call me when I’m on a date?”

Considering how long this thing got I have to agree, a lot of potential…

Is it good potential? I have seriously no idea, but I am happy it’s done so yeah…have at it, I hope you enjoy

_________________________

When Peter had decided to get back into dating he had planned for many things.

One thing he had not planned for was his own commitment to keeping that little troublemaker Stiles alive. And the things he’d give up for that commitment.

Peter would call them friends, though he wasn’t sure Stiles would agree.

Their main activity together was taking care of threats before they came to Scott’s attention and then usually cooking together afterwards, eating while watching a movie or playing on Peter’s several gaming consoles.

It had taken him a while to catch up with pop culture but he finally felt on top of his game again. An achievement the young man had definitely played a role in.

As a friend Peter had talked with Stiles about the matter of dating, asking him for advice on how to go about it. Stiles had been surprisingly well informed for someone who - as far as Peter was aware- had only ever dated one person. Peter’s daughter. A part of their past the three of them usually willfully ignored or glossed over. Though Peter probably was the one who had the least issues with it. He obviously had never spoken with either of them much about what had happened but considering the two still were fairly close to each other he supposed it maybe just worked better for both of the young adults to keep it platonic. Sometimes things turned out that way. He was just glad they had stayed close because it was obvious Stiles helped Malia to connect to her human nature and Malia helped Stiles with his occasional anxiety and his tendency to overthinking.

Stiles had introduced Peter to Tinder, Grindr and Only Lads, he had also mentioned Peter might want to use messengers like Telegram or Kik, since those were more anonymous than Whatsapp. When Stiles had mentioned Peter might also like a website called FetLife Peter had nodded. At least that was something he had already found himself.

Dating definitely had changed in the last years, but Peter found his way easily enough, everything was very user friendly and the rest of the equation was people. He had no problem figuring out people. Well most people, there were exceptions to every rule.

It didn’t take long and Peter had a hand full of candidates who met his current requirements of being attractive, smart, snarky enough to hold their ground with him and morally at least somewhat flexible. To find those few meant he had to filter through a lot of people below that threshold, but Peter had never had a problem with telling people to fuck off in the politest way possible.

~*~

Four weeks into the endeavour Peter had his first date.

Dr. Ferawro, as his name was on Grindr was beautiful and charming. His actual name was Josep Ferrero, he actually was a surgeon and they had a lot in common, such as their love for expensive cars, their annoyance with people who asked unnecessary questions and their guilty pleasure to watch ‘Say Yes to the Dress’.

They were on a good way to fuck each other in either one of their cars or one of their beds when Peter’s phone rang with Stiles’ ringtone.

He apologized and stood up to take the call outside.

As it turned out Stiles was trapped on a tree because he had angered a Camahueto. How the fuck he had encountered such a creature Peter really had no idea but the cracking noises and Stiles’ very serious pleading to come fast and safe him was enough for Peter to know he had to go and rescue the idiot.

So he apologized to Josep because an emergency had come up, payed for their food and left.

~*~

Josep later texted him, asking if everything turned out ok and Peter looked down at Stiles who had dozed off with his head in Peter’s lap as they had watched some netflix to calm him down from the adrenaline rush of almost dying.

Peter: Yeah, my apologies again, if you want I can make it up to you…

Peter didn’t expect to get a message back as quickly as he did.

Josep: Would you meet me tonight and fuck my brains out in your Maybach?

Peter looked down at Stiles again, would he freak out if Peter wasn’t there when he woke up?

Should Peter just wake him up and tell him he was going out to pick his date up roughly where he had left it?

Something inside him - in that moment he’d have called it instinct, though later he was pretty sure it just had been his subconscious already understanding what was going on - told him it’d be bad to leave Stiles now.

Peter: I am afraid I can’t.

The next message took a little longer and when Peter read it he understood why.

Josep: That’s a shame, but it is what it is. Since I am not in the business of running after anybody, no matter how rudely attractive they might be I suppose this is where we part ways. I had a nice evening despite you rushing off and should fate ever bring us together by chance again I’d still be open to some casual action. Best of luck.

Whelp, there went his first chance to find someone permanent. He would not say no to a little fun with Josep either but it wasn’t like he was short in supply of booty calls, what he wanted was a partner.

Peter: I understand and appreciate the honesty. Best of luck to you too.

~*~

They caught the Camahueto and didn’t even have to kill it, it had just been lost and Stiles had startled it. After leading it back to it’s original track everything was all right.

At least until Peter’s next date.

This time Peter wasn’t as torn as with the first because the guy, his name was Domian, had a voice Peter could hardly listen to. Maybe his personality was great, Peter could barely tell because that voice irritated him to no end. It wasn’t high pitched or anything but flat and even and lacking almost all intonation.

He might still have fucked the guy, he looked cute enough and Peter had a perverse curiosity what that voice sounded like when the guy was in lust, but it didn’t come to that because there was another call from dear Stiles.

Peter didn’t apologize himself but just mumbled “I gotta take this” and picked up.

“Peter, I have a…uh…a little problem…”

Peter sighed “I feel flattered you call me whenever you are in trouble darling, but this is somewhat a bad time.”

Stiles sighed “I know, I know,  you mentioned meeting with someone, I’m really sorry but…Wiggle has escaped and I may or may not have been experimenting some of my new potions on him…”

Peter’s eyes narrowed.

“Which ones?”

He heard Stiles swallow.

“Visibility…and size…”

He couldn’t keep in a groan.

“You know, for someone so smart you can be incredibly stupid sometimes…”

He practically heard Stiles roll his eyes.

“Will you come help me?”

Peter gave his date a last glance.

“Yeah ok…but you owe me.”

He hung up before Stiles could answer.

His attention was on the man in front of him.

“So, this is unpleasant. But my friend’s snake has escaped and it’s not the small kind so he needs help. I’ll pay the meal as an apology but I have to go.”

Domian frowned.

“No one else can help him?”

Peter just shrugged noncommittally, aware that response would likely kill any chances he had had with the guy.

It wasn’t a huge loss.

~*~

Peter found Wiggliam Snakespeare by scent easily enough and the snake was used to him so it didn’t try to attack him - not that it would have done much damage.

An hour later the little big boy had been shrunken to its natural size and made visible again.

Stiles thanked Peter and jokingly offered to blow him since he had basically blue balled him.

Peter declined. If he got sexual attention he wanted it to be desired on both ends and not out of a sense of obligation.

After declining though he left fairly quickly because looking at Stiles lips too long, having his scent dominate the air around him wasn’t helping him make peace with that decision.

They had flirted before but he had always known it was just fun. And nothing to ruin one of his best friendships over.

If he thought of Stiles smiling at him, kissing him and having his mouth all over Peter’s body while he pulled himself off in the privacy if his home then nobody needed to know that.

~*~

Date three went so well, so god damn well!

Maggie was lovely, smart and witty, she had an answer to everything, strong opinions, the right ones too. Besides that she smelled comforting but not boring, her whole personality spoke of someone grounded yet energetic, spontaneous but reasonable. She told him openly about her profession of telling fortune and making low level protective penchants. When she mentioned it the faint smell of ozone clicked into place for Peter.

He could see she was delighted he believed her from the beginning and when she asked him if it was okay if she read a little bit in the potentials his future held he hesitated only a short moment.

Knowledge was power, there was nothing to say against having a bit more of it still.

So she took his hand.

Her eyebrows furrowed.

“Oh…I see, you aren’t human…mh…and I probably should have mentioned I can see the past as well…”

He was surprised she didn’t sound horrified or disgusted then, just apologetic.

“If I had had an inkling about the suffering you had had to endure I would have mentioned it Peter…I am sorry…poor man…”

He frowned “Hardly…I got what I deserved…”

She smiled like you would with a child.

“Parts of it, yes…others not so much…but I am glad you are doing so much better. I can see a person that played a big role in that…several people but one in particular…you should keep that person close…oh…you really should…if you do your future will be magnificent…you will have a beautiful bloom with that person at your side…that does mean though…”

Her smile turned melancholic.

“It means you and I won’t come together. There is a future I see where we could, and it would be pleasant, sweet even, but mediocre at best compared to how bright you could burn with that other person.”

Peter was somewhat confused.

“Who?”

Maggie smiled, still a little sad “The one calling you in about half an hour.”

Peter furrowed his brows in contemplation.

“And you are saying I should pursue that person? Half the people that might call me I’m related to…”

Her smile became teasingly.

“I doubt that will be the case, but no, I don’t mean romantically, not necessarily at least…what is yet to come is seldom clear enough to determine things like that. The only indicator I can give you is this one: The future I saw will probably not happen if you start a relationship with someone else.”

She patted his hand and then let go.

“Now, the fact we won’t become an item doesn’t mean we can’t have a nice dinner and a great night together. So what do you say we continue this?”

Peter nodded after a moment and ordered some more wine.

~*~

Half an hour later they were almost done with their main course and Peter’s phone rang with Stiles’ ringtone again.

“I-”

Maggie nodded “Take it”

He did and Stiles voice was low and hushed.

“I have a problem…I accidentally stumbled into a vampire nest…”

Peter sighed.

“Which kind of vampire?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do they have the classical elongated canines or are their entire teeth more like just a little pointier than normal.”

Stiles sounded a bit tense “I don’t know man…they are sleeping, I’m not gonna check their teeth.”

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose “Okay okay…so their faces look fairly human or different?”

“Different.”

“How?”

“Their ears are longer, the nose flatter…everything is a bit elongated I think…their limbs don’t look entirely human either…”

Good.

“Those are Emote Siphoners, a lesser known vampire form, fairly harmless, they feed off strong emotions, nothing physical like blood. If they wake up they might swarm you and take your stronger emotions away but they won’t stop you. They have enough food in a town like Beacon Hills. They might actually play with you if you engage them.”

Stiles huffed.

“Sounds like you’ve done that before.”

Peter grinned “They aren’t smart and reproduce fairly naturally, they are basically animals, I had one as a pet for a while, it was cute and helped with the stress in college.”

There was a low frustrated grown on the other end of the line but when Stiles spoke again it was with a certain fondness “You’re so weird Peter…”

He chuckled “I know. But if you don’t mind I’d like to get back to my date now.”

He could hear Stiles swallow.

“Right, your date. I totally forgot.”

Stiles had gotten pretty good at lying, to the point where even Peter wasn’t always sure but that certainly sounded fake.

“Well, now I reminded you and I’ll hang up now, okay?”

A small pause.

“Yeah…yeah okay…thank you for helping me even though you are busy. Have fun Peter.”

He felt a weird sense of guilt but pushed it aside for a bright smile.

“Thank you, have fun with the Emotes.”

A dry, slightly forced laughed “Thanks, goodbye Peter.”

“Goodbye Stiles.”

He hung up before the conversation could venture into actual awkwardness and looked at Maggie who had purposefully ignored the conversation and concentrated on her food.

“Ok, I promise after this we can just chat about fun things and have amazing, filthy sex, but I have to ask. You said the future is rarely clear enough when I voiced uncertainty about a possible romantic relationship with the person I just had on the phone. Now, after I tell you I would not mind that, would you change the vague but suggestive answer you gave me?”

Maggie’s lips curled into a mischievous grin and her dark, brown eyes were positively gleaming.

“That young man interrupted every single of your dates so far. You know how it is, one is an incident, two is coincidence, three is a pattern. Which would make four enough to take action I’d say.”

Peter couldn’t help but shake his head and grin.

“That actually sounds like something Stiles would say. So you are suggesting I should set up a fourth date to see if he keeps the pattern going?”

She shrugged “There is a slight chance he might not, because of your conversation right now he learned that you don’t necessarily come every time he calls…”

“So you didn’t just offer me the chance to go that glorious path you saw for me but at the same time gave me the chance to screw it up by convincing me to spend tonight with you anyway…”

A provocative smile and a shrug were the answer.

He huffed and grinned wider.

“You are quite the snake, aren’t you?”

Maggie grinned back.

“In a biblical sense, sure, I love to tempt. But admit it, you wouldn’t have considered staying if it wasn’t for the fact I can actually rival you.”

“True. So what am I supposed to do?”

She leaned back and suggestively played with a strand of her dark red hair.

“Eat with me, sleep with me, move on and lay an irresistible trap for your future Beau.”

He leaned back as well and played with the stem of his glas.

“If you put it like that. How do you feel about dessert?”

~*~

After that night Peter observed Stiles’ behavior around him and others more closely than before.

He hadn’t paid that much mind to it so far but now realized Stiles was more physical when they were alone than he was with anybody else - even Scott.

It wasn’t like Stiles got crazy physical with him, but they just spent a lot of their time alone together in close contact, either sitting next to each other, elbows touching, when they watched movies Stiles usually sprawled out on the couch, at least one body part placed in Peter’s lap, when they cooked with each other Stiles moved around him and placed small touches here and there.

Peter had just written it off as Stiles imitating scenting behavior to connect himself to the more instinctive aspects of the pack bond, and maybe that was part of it, but it was clearly more than that.

And the idiot Peter was he had not looked at it more closely because he had locked away any idea of him and Stiles possibly being more than friends.

He had to admit the fact it had taken a clairvoyant to point him in the right direction had bruised his ego at least a little bit.

But now he was reciprocating more consciously, as part of his plan.

He would intensify their connection, reciprocate the physical contact, invite Stiles more often just to spend time together, amp up the flirtatious comments, and then make plans for a fourth date, but mention he wasn’t all that sure he was interested in the person. It’d make it easy for Stiles to decide to interrupt his date again, whether it was conscious or subconscious.

~*~

And so it came.

Peter’s fourth date actually wasn’t a real person though - he had no interest in pretending he liked somebody just to use them when he could just as easily pretend he was meeting with somebody.

After all, it wasn’t even really a lie, he did intend to meet with somebody that evening, Stiles just didn’t know the person Peter wanted to meet was him.

And Peter actually started answering Stiles’ questions with that in mind.

“What’s the guy like?” Stiles asked, lounging on Peter’s couch, tome in hand.

Peter hummed in thought and leaned against the back of the couch with his hip while deciding which tie to wear.

“He is a lot younger than me…something I wouldn’t usually consider, but he hits all other criterias. The biggest question is if he’s actually into me…”

Stiles raised one brow - had he adapted that from Peter? Possibly…

“Why? If he is down for a date I’m sure he’s got the hots for your Daddy Bad-Touch vibe.”

Peter glared at the younger man.

“What did I ever do to suggest I deserve that title?”

Stiles grinned up at him and had the audacity to nudge Peter’s hip with his toes.

“Nothing really, not since the wrist grab…it’s more this.” he motioned his hand to refer to Peter’s general person “Probably mostly the goatee though I think.”

“I can get rid of it.”

“No, don’t, I like it.”

“You also like wearing khakis and onion-like layers of clothing, clearly you can’t be trusted in such matters.”

Stiles pretended to be hurt and frowned.

“You’re a mean one Mr. Hale.”

Peter hummed pleased “I’m not sure I should be as into you calling me that as I am…”

Stiles shrugged “You can always ask the twink you are meeting if he wants to do some teacher/student role play.”

Already at the door to his apartment Peter chuckled at the comment “You kinky little brat, I never even said anything about role-playing.”

~*~

Instead of going on the actual date Peter went to Stiles favourite Indian Restaurant and got them their usual. He then went to the convenience store and bought Stiles favorite ice cream and soda.

As he had guessed Stiles called him when he was on the drive back to his apartment.

He picked up with a grin: “Stiles. Why do you always call me when I’m on a date?”

He could basically hear Stiles’ flail his limbs in an attempt to justify himself.

“I don’t always- I mean it’s not- I…I I’m…I need your help.”

Peter sighed a bit exaggerated “You were at my place less than an hour ago, in how much trouble could you possible have gotten yourself?”

Peter had made a slight gamble by assuming Stiles would stay at his apartment if he invited him there this evening for some “research” but it hadn’t been a bad one - Stiles was an eager learner and Peter had a lot of books on magic to offer. He had even bought a new one so Stiles had a book he didn’t have had the chance to read before.

On the other end of the connection Peter could hear Stiles shuffle.

“I…I might have tried out a spell and it backfired? Your flat is ok but I’m in a precarious situation, seriously…I need your help.”

Peter waited for a few moments to make it seem like he was weighing his options and then sighed.

“Ok, I’ll be there in twenty.”

He hung up without saying goodbye to seem frustrated and continued to drive home, the smell of the Indian food already filling the car.

~*~

When he came up to his own flat’s door there was another smell, also food but less spicy, potatoes, champions, leak, bacon, cheese…and maybe rice?

He unlocked his door and the smell got stronger. Definitely rice.

A few steps into his flat and he saw Stiles, wearing an apron and carrying a steaming pot to the sweetly decorated table.

“What….is going on?”

Stiles smiled at him and then raised a brow when he saw the bags with food containers, soda and ice cream.

“I could ask the same, you took your sweet time to come and ‘rescue’ me if you bought food on your way back from your date…”

Peter placed the bags on the counter.

“There never was a date…but…what…why…”

He gestured to the candles and flowers, the bottle if wine, the two plates and fancy glasses, the still steaming pot that smelled awfully delicious.

Stiles blushed “Eh….Maggie and I…”

Peter felt he knew where that might be going.

“Did she put the idea I was into you in your head? Because Stiles…I would never want this unless you-”

Stiles snorted and crossed his arms.

“No Peter, shut up. I met Maggie a while ago and she taught me some basic fortune telling. During that time we realized we both had a possible future with you. She made it very clear my future with you was the more powerful one and insisted on me taking the chance…pointing you in the right direction was her idea…but I might have given her some tips on how to sell it.”

Well this was a twists he hadn’t anticipated.

“So you played me.”

It wasn’t a question but Stiles nodded.

“I did.”

“The entire time you knew I was into you.”

“No. A big part of this was trying to find out if you were. If your date with Maggie had turned out differently I would have pulled away from you. After all she told you the truth, there are other possible futures for you. And neither I nor she can see all of them, time is a fickle matter.”

He had some conflicting feelings about this situation.

“You lied to me.”

Stiles nodded again.

“On many matters. Before and after I realized my feelings.”

Peter could hardly judge, he was a passionate deceiver, but dishonesty was no base for a relationship.

“If we do this there can’t be lies or secrets between us.”

He saw Stiles give him a dangerous smile.

“Careful Peter, you are the one with all the secrets…are you really willing to share all of them with me?”

He hesitated only a moment before nodding.

“If it goes both ways and we use a secrecy spell I have no problem with that.”

Stiles’ body relaxed a little but not fully and a wary, careful but genuine smile tugged on the corners of Stiles’ mouth.

“So you aren’t angry I tricked you?”

Peter huffed at the sign of insecurity and reached out to cup the younger man’s face, smiling warmly.

“On the contrary, I am pretty turned on by it.”

The last tension left Stiles’ body and he slumped a little against Peter, leaning their foreheads together.

“Figures…”

Then, with an almost innocent glance into Peter’s eyes he asked “What do we do now?”

“Now…” Peter almost purred and reached out next to them and grabbed a pint of ice cream out of the bags, holding it to Stiles’ neck “…we put away the groceries and eat whatever is smelling so lovely in that pot over there.”

Stiles had screeched and cursed before huffing but followed Peter’s orders.

“At least we have food for tomorrow as well.” he mentioned cheery as he placed the food containers of indian deliciousness in Peter’s fridge.

Peter had snuck up behind him and wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist, playing with the bow of the apron he had tied in the front, head resting on Stiles’ shoulder.

“Just tomorrow? I think we could stay in for at least three days…maybe four…”

Stiles leaned into Peter’s embrace after a short moment of surprise and hummed lowly and content.

“Sounds like you got big plans…”

Peter chuckled and nibbled gently on the tendon in Stiles’ neck.

“Would it be too creepy if I said I wouldn’t mind if your scent became as familiar to me as air is to other people?”

The rumbling noise between a humm and chuckle Stiles made was nice and soothing to Peter’s instincts.

“No, with you it’s sweet. Come on now, let’s eat before you break the skin on my neck out of hunger.”

Peter had almost forgotten the food but followed the order.

“All right Darling, what did you make?”

“Risotto, since you mentioned you didn’t have any in quite a while.”

Peter sat down and grinned.

“What an attentive young man. Boyfriend material if I ever saw some.”

Stiles grinned as well and shook his head.

“Sappy idiot.”

[coryperlaportfolio]

Artie Lange: Crazy Funny

(Originally published 8/30/2012)

For comedian Artie Lange, heartbreak and catastrophe go in, and humor comes out. It’s really that simple for the 44-year-old best-selling author, comedian, radio show host, and actor. Lange has learned to take the pain of addiction and depression and turn it inside out. He hasn’t had the easiest life, as anyone who has read his New York Times best-selling book Too Fat to Fish has learned, but Lange has persevered if only to make people laugh, and work out his problems on stage.

Lange and his radio show partner Nick DiPaolo will perform comedy on Saturday, September 1, at the Seneca Niagara Events Center in Niagara Falls.

When you sit down to an interview like this are you ready to answer anything thrown at you or are you just sitting there thinking "For the love of god, don't let them ask me about drug addiction or suicide"?

Artie Lange: I’m ready for anything. Whatever you want to talk about brother.

I think most of your fans know by now that you attempted suicide a couple of years ago. You spent some time in a psychiatric ward for a while. Obviously those were some dark times. Were you thinking about comedy at all while you were going through that?

AL: Was I thinking about comedy?

Yeah, when you were sitting in the psyche ward did you ever think about comedy or your career?

AL: Oh well yeah, when I was in the psyche ward, sure. Everything that I had ever done that was normal was on my mind. I was wondering if I would ever do any of it again. It’s funny because no matter how dark it gets you never stop being a comedian. Stuff would happen to me on the ward and I would go “God this would be a great story to tell on Letterman or a funny thing to put in my stand-up act.” So sure, you never stop thinking about it, but at that point I didn’t know what was reality or what wasn’t. I thought maybe I did die and I’m in fuckin’ hell, because that place was disgusting. The biggest thing in my mind was how the fuck do I get out of here?

What popped you back into reality?

AL: Time, really. Everyone who I talked to who was clean or in some sort of program told me that everything that I was thinking at that point, I couldn’t really count as being real because of how warped my mind was from drugs, specifically heroin. They said the longer that you’re off that shit, every single day that you’re off it you’ll start to think clearer. You’ll start to think normal; you’ll come back to the real world. You’ll realize that there is a chance that you could get back into life and maybe be as good or better than you were. That’s what it was for me, being literally locked down in a facility where I couldn’t take drugs. It took time; it took almost a year and a half of not being on dope to get back to normal. Time is what happened.

When did you realize you were funny?

AL: When I was really young. I grew up in an area that had a lot of tough kids. I realized I could get out of fights with someone who I knew could kick my ass by being funny. I can remember there was this black chick, Tanya Davis, and she was big. In the fourth grade she was big and she broke my friend Joey’s nose in a fight. Joey was a tough kid but she punched like Muhammad Ali. She came over with a right hand. I tried to break up the fight but then she wanted to fight me so I started doing a Howard Cosell impersonation, like I was the announcer of the fight or something, and I made everybody laugh. That sorta freaked her out a little bit and she didn’t know what to do, so she didn’t break my nose. That’s when I first learned I was funny.

As a stand-up comedian you're essentially talking to yourself on stage. You have audience reaction but there is no conversation really, at least hopefully not, unless someone is heckling you. As a radio personality it's all about having an interesting or funny conversation. Which do you prefer?

AL: That’s a hard question, radio or stand-up. I love stand-up comedy but when stand-up comedy goes well—and by that I mean not just killing. I’m talking about when you’re killing the material that you actually like and respect and it’s not just something you know people will laugh at so you can get out of there and get a check. When that’s happening, it’s fantastic. But you know, I never really did radio until I sat in on Howard (Stern’s) show. I’ll never forget what Howard said to me after that first show. I knew I did really well because everyone was laughing, and Howard looked at me and said “it’s fun, isn’t it?” and I said “my God, yeah.” Just sitting in front of that microphone and just goofing around and it’s going out to all of these people live. It’s amazing. I got to learn how to do this radio stuff by literally sitting four feet from the best guy who has ever done it for nine years. Talk about a training school for radio. I would see the way he would handle callers or guests, and I’d see the way he’d change and what he would do. There is nothing about radio that I don’t like. If I could only do one thing for the rest of my life, it would be a radio show.

Is radio more spontaneous?

AL: Oh God yeah. Absolutely. Stand-up is supposed to seem spontaneous, but normally it’s an act you’ve been doing forever on stage. It’s a comic’s job to make it seem like he’s thinking of all of this stuff off the top of his head. Even heckler responses are something you’ve done a million times. But radio is. It has to be spontaneous.

Tell me about one of your favorite moments on the Nick and Artie show.

AL: A woman called up, it was probably a woman doing a character because nobody could be this crazy, or maybe she was just crazy, who knows. But she said that if you kill and boil a cat, and eat its bones you would become invisible.

Was she a witch?

AL: She claimed to be a witch, yeah. She had a really funny voice, I think her name was Jen and she was from Naples, Florida. She kept saying that she was stalking me and she wanted to kill me.

When you talk to someone like that are you thinking like “Yes, this is the caller I’ve been waiting for” or are you just a little freaked out?

AL: No, with this person I wasn’t freaked out at all. I could tell she was either too crazy to pull it off or it was a joke. She had a real entertaining voice and I wanted to bang her by the end. But anyways, I tell her that I want to try the cat thing and Nick makes a really funny cat sound—he can make a sound almost like you’re choking a cat. So he started doing it into the mic and she started almost having an orgasm and she’s screaming “kill that thing, kill that thing!” That’s the hardest I’ve ever laughed.

You appeared on Louie this month as a Chemical Truck Driver. I see a very, very subtly ironic message there, you being a Chemical Truck Driver. How was it working with Louie CK?

AL: I’ve known Louie for a long, long time, from the comedy scene or whatever you want to call it. He would always tell me he wanted to do something with me on the show, and I would always tell him that I’d love to do the show. He called me probably about 12 hours before he wanted to shoot the thing and told me “Tomorrow I’ve got this thing you can do, it’s a small thing but I think it’ll be funny. Would you want to do it on the show?” and I said “Heck yeah, whatever you need.” So he gave me his address in the East Village—it’s funny because we didn’t go through an agent or anything, he just called me on the phone—so I stopped by and he told me what to do and it was hilarious. Louie has the perfect combination to become successful. First of all he’s brilliant, second of all he’s really funny, and third of all he does everything. He’s got a work ethic like a Mexican who comes here illegally and wants to stay here. I’ve never seen anything like it. He holds the camera, he directs the stuff, he writes it, and then he acts in it. I’m going “My god I just don’t have the energy.” It was impressive to see a buddy of mine doing all of that. He’s a true sort of auteur, and he’s got a deal with FX—what they call the “Woody Allen” deal—where he just tells them; “look, give me money for a season of shows and you can’t give me any notes, no one from FX can come from the set, and at the end of the year I’ll give you 13 episodes and you can’t change anything.” That’s impressive to see. I’m very, very happy for him.

I have some friends who won't watch Louie because they say it's too depressing, which is funny because it's a comedy show...

AL: [Interrupts] Well it is and it isn’t. I understand where they’re coming from but I mean look, those friends sound like pussies. They gotta man up and just watch it. Here is how I describe a Louie episode: It’s like an Edgar Allen Poe short story. Louie is great because he knows how people behave. Even in a Woody Allen movie you’re going to get unbelievably funny stuff or you’re going to get depressed because he’s a realist. This is how people act. People act in ways that are very, very disappointing most of the time. Louie keeps it real like that in every episode and also gets hilarious comedy out of the way people really act. The episodes have both, so I don’t think you can call it a comedy show. It’s just its own thing. If you read Edgar Allen Poe, some of the stuff is so dark it’s funny, but ultimately it’s depressing. That’s what I think it’s like. If those buddies of yours appreciate art it’s a chance to actually see it happening on TV. They’re not going to see it on Two and a Half Men.

I feel like you kind of walk that same line, taking something that is very depressing and working it into your comedy. Is that a tough thing to do?

AL: Yeah, sort of. I’ve dated girls who have told me that when they watch my act and I’m telling a story about, you know, shitting my pants on heroin or drunk driving—and even though everybody laughs—they wish that I could do something more like Jerry Seinfeld. For the people that love me it could be depressing to hear because maybe they were there the night that that happened and it was anything but funny. It’s like being in the psyche ward. I have jokes in my act about being in rehab and being in a psyche ward. I do an impression of a counselor I had in rehab in Miami. While it was happening it was anything but funny, but people laugh at it during my set and the people that are close to me are thinking “well shit, I wish it was that funny when it was happening.” It depresses them but I’d rather tell my tale in a funny way and maybe people will get something out of it.

Looking at the way your life has gone, it seems like there is nothing you could do but be a comedian.

AL: [Laughs] I’m not going to be on the police force. Now a days, with background checks—you’re right man—with my background, forget it. I can’t even vote for Christ’s sake. You’re right when I think about it. I better make this work.

Tell me about the best thing you've ever done in your life, and the worst thing you've ever done.

AL: Well the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life was stabbing myself in the stomach that morning because I knew that the only two people who could have found me were my mother and sister. I wasn’t thinking like that, I wasn’t rational, but in the back of my head I had to know that. They did find me and I’ll never get over that guilt. Thank god they seem better and everything seems fine but the guilt of that will never fully leave my body, so that’s a no brainer. The best thing I’ve ever done I think was going to do stand-up in Afghanistan for those guys. I always said I wanted to do it and my agent kind of called my bluff and told me there was an opportunity to do that. I said to myself “Wow, I can’t pussy out here. I gotta do this.” I realized I was going into a war zone and my mother was worried but I was with Marines and everything. Guys would come back from missions doing God-knows-what, and they’d sit down in all of their gear, in that heat, and they would just be like “Ok make me laugh, dance like a monkey or something.” I would have done anything at that point, dance around like a monkey or whatever. How grateful they were. So if I had to pick one thing, it would probably be that and I would do it again if I could. I just hope we get all of those guys the fuck out of there soon.

Can you tell me a little bit about your new book, Crash and Burn?

AL: It picks up where Too Fat To Fish left off. It’s about what happened to me. My stand-up act has a quick snippet, a comedic version, of some of the stuff that happened. Crash and Burn is what happened in long form: What I was going through and the darker side of the rehab and the psyche ward, and what was going through my head the morning I stabbed myself. What I was thinking afterwards. What it was like waking up after that. It’s got a lot of comedy in it that comes from that, but it’s the real, full story, which has a lot of darkness in it. The title comes from when I was working at a port as a longshoreman. I was deciding whether or not I should quit the port and become a comedian. I was sitting at the bar with my buddy’s older brother, Chucky, and he goes “fuck it man, go for the good life. If you got talent just go do it. If you crash and burn at least you tried. You’ll feel better if you crash and burn than if you never tried.” So every time I’d see him after that he’d shout “crash and burn!”

[awed-frog]

This is going to be a mess - I had to erase the original post because the bots just wouldn’t stop coming, so here is how it all started -

And here are your kind requests -

So - thank you for your lovely asks and PMs - here we go. 

(Keep in mind that those moments were hugely embarrassing to me, so you shouldn’t find them funny or anything. They’re tragic stories I’m relating for your moral betterment - that is all.)

1) The ‘The Greeks Made Me Do It’ story

As a bit of background, I was eighteen and had just moved to another city to start my studies. I’d been there for a month, knew literally no one, had no idea where half my classes were and my ideals of switching to a Sophisticated Look and becoming A Lady had miserably failed, which means I was walking around wearing this insanely expensive, Managing Director of the IMF coat plus combat boots and frayed jeans plus a lopsided handmade scarf and 'Marilyn going on Morticia’ lipstick (I worried - a lot - about being the only weirdo and the only unfinished person in the entire town, because that was before I met Hamster Girl and Colour Matching Girl and I spend as much on weed as you do for rent but everything I own is see-through, threadbare or ripped Guy). Plus, I couldn’t speak or understand the local language all that well, and I’d taken to nodding and smiling whatever people said, which generally made me look like an idiot and meant I never knew what was going on. 

(And, yes, it’s tempting and it seems like the easier option, but seriously - don’t do that.) 

All of that means I was more or less living in the university library so I could pretend I had a purpose in life and, well, going from a high school library to a real academic library was like stepping into the Restricted Section - I mean, of course, I read what I was supposed to read, and I lost myself in serious books that had little to do with my actual subjects (that was my Minoan period - I’m sure every Classics student had one), but there were also the - uhm - other books, you know? All those studies about homosexuality in the Greek world, and how Mapplethorpe’s pictures were connected with frescoes of Saint Sebastian, and people having sex with statues and kings trying to trick their young wives into anal and truly lurid collections of Greek art which my high school teacher had once described as ‘Something you should probably have a look at, but if I let you borrow my copy your parents would not be happy with me’. And on that particular day, I had actually devoted my afternoon to a no-nonsense book about Eastern influences in Greek art, and well, the study of lovers and concubines on Greek amphorae was a sort of a plan B to relax a bit between chapters, because I was reading in a foreign language and it was hard work and when you don’t know anyone, it’s like you’re the only one working, right, and everyone else is off to wild parties and poetry lectures and screenings of a Guatemalan movie you never knew existed and that’s depressing af, so yay for weird art - but at around five I realized the day was done and I didn’t want to give the dirty book back because, come on, it wasn’t that dirty and I had a right to read it and it was complemented with passages by Theophrastus and Plato, plus it had come to me via the now defunct goblin-based system of tunnels underground the reading room -

~note - for younger readers, these things~

- so I didn’t want to give it back and go through the hassle of requesting it again, and I remember the fuck it moment that came over me - I was eighteen, I was studying the damn stuff, so I’d borrow the damn book and if the librarians disapproved, well, they could bite me.

(Obviously, they didn’t disapprove. The bored guy at the service desk didn’t even look at me, because nobody looks at you, ever, and your life is your own, so go live it.)

And next, I had to go shopping because there’s only so much time you can survive on cold cereal - and suddenly there I was, in a big and foreign supermarket, a dirty book burning a hole through my old Invicta, my Queen of England coat clashing with everything else I was wearing, and I was moving from aisle to aisle without making eye contact and trying to remember what spices were called in French, and I’d almost made it - I was collecting my mismatched groceries on the other side of the till when the bloody alarm started blaring, and two uniformed guards appeared out of thin air and it was like one of those slow-motion scenes in movies, right, when the dust in the air glimmers like gold and sound is no longer a thing and someone’s talking and everybody is staring and when God pushed the ‘resume normal speed’ button the two men were gesturing and smiling smugly and there was this old lady next to me and she was taking in my luxurious coat and my frayed jeans and putting two and two together - I physically felt her horrified, gleeful gaze on me like scalding water - and Jesus, I could see the headlines in my local paper already ‘Young Promise of Sci-Fi Literature Arrested’ (I was writing fantasy back then, but most normal people don’t seem to know the difference) and there were my parents, okay, my poor parents walking with their heads down as formerly friendly neighbours threw garbage at them and someone would interview my history teacher and he was bound to say, ‘She was something of a strange girl, but I never thought she’d end up in prison’ and next, of course, came the walk of shame in front of all twelve tills, with dozens of proper adults (people with families and eggs in their baskets, women with tasteful lipstick and women with kids and doggies instead of books about dead prostitutes) staring at me in disapproval, and What has the world come to and I heard that today, young women are as likely to commit crimes as young men and Do you think she’s on drugs? and then I was forced into the Small Room of Humiliation and asked to please empty my bag, so out came the frosting I was planning to eat raw and the crown of garlic I’d bought because it looked pretty and had no intention of ever using and a giant-ass bag of rice and as I looked on, horrified, I realized nothing made sense with anything and even those burly, middle-aged men could see that just fine - but, well, every single horrifying, meaningless item was on the receipt, so they had me empty my pockets (one condom, safety pins, a Swiss knife, an IKEA pencil and a very smooth and round rock, God have mercy on me) and next we all looked at one another like, What now? and that’s when I truly gave up on rational thinking, okay, because my first instinct is always to be of service, and so I said, in my heavily accented French, ‘The library book has a barcode, maybe that’s the problem?’ and of course, they hadn’t really looked at the book yet - it was face down on the formica table, looking all prim and innocent in its unassuming dark blue cover, but when the older man picked it up with his bear paw, I suddenly realized the front of it was quite different - I sat there and saw his eyebrows disappear into his hairline as he took in the big-ass picture (a painting of a woman fellating a much younger man) and the title (something along the lines of, THE JOYLESS SEX - TALES OF THE PLEASURE WOMEN, in all capitals, because books about Greek art don’t sell all that well, so anything to do with sex is pimped up to trick the unsuspecting general audience into giving it a shot) and of course he had to open it, because that’s how humans are wired, okay, and the thing right in the middle was a goat-like creature doing unspeakable things with two women and every single cell in my body wanted to explode and disappear and shout ‘IT’S MANDATORY READING FOR THIS CLASS I’M TAKING’, which was a lie, anyway, and I couldn’t get the words out and I couldn’t look up and I couldn’t look away - after a few excruciating minutes (seconds? hours?), the guy scanned the book on his barcode machine and yep, that’s when we all learned that library books respond to the same anti-theft thingies that pick up on stolen wine and cookies and fine cheeses, and Sorry, miss, and You have a good evening, now, and he was extremely uncreepy about it, but it was still hard to find my way out because of the WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOUNG PEOPLE UP THESE DAYS bewilderment that was shining like a beacon around his entire body, so, yeah - that was pretty embarrassing.

2) The ‘A Four-Part Seduction’ story

This actually happened almost one year before my adventure with the scanning machine - I was in my last year of high school, had kissed exactly 1 (one) boy, failed to seduce 3 (three) other boys despite my fox-like cunning and my sunny disposition, and I was now ready to sacrifice everything (well: my sanity and my dignity) for The Boy - a basketball player with a long, horse-like face and zero talent in anything whom for some reason I fancied the pants off.

(Looking back, I think I liked he was quiet and kind, and the age-old problem when you’re attracted to mysteriously self-effacing people is that you’re never quite sure - is there a colourful and occasionally wild ocean behind their silent lips and far-off gaze, or are they not saying anything because an evolutionary mishap converted half their brain into a second spleen, and therefore they were left with the mental capacity of a vivacious Mexican mole lizard? The joy is in finding out.)

Anyway, I have a feeling things haven’t changed all that much, but back then when you were intent on romantic hunting, you usually enlisted the help of your closest friends - people who inevitably were: 

your age 

unexperienced

not very familiar with The Boy and

generally speaking, completely unsuited to hatching a failproof seduction plan of any kind.

On this particular occasion, my advisors were: 

a girl who’d been the better half of a couple for time untold (three months, two weeks and five days) and was thus The Expert

another girl who’d done ‘not it, but almost’ with an unnamed boy she’d met over the summer

a third girl who still didn’t quite understand what ‘it’ meant and 

my only guy friend who was actually in love with me and I only found out about that twenty years later and that was one true what the fuck moment, because then I wondered what else I hadn’t seen when I was a teenager even if it was there in plain sight (like the fact my German teacher preyed on young boys, for instance,but that’s another story).

So, well - part A of The Plan - getting to know him better - had failed miserably, because what can you discuss with someone you only see once a week in French class and you have a monster crush on? I mostly pestered him about homework dates and then stared mutely at his hands as he turned the pages of his school diary and my God, he must have thought I was an anxious, forgetful idiot with absolutely zero life, ‘which means he already knows you better than most people,’ my best friend said consolingly, before trying out her married name signature (Alice DiCaprio) one more time. And as for part B - that had succeeded, but at what cost? Because through a string of sleights of hand and corruption, we’d managed to shift half our classmates around on the seating chart, so I was now sharing a desk with The Boy himself, but so far that had resulted in some awkward staring (mine), a couple of embarrassed smiles (his) and about 50 000 volt of electricity going through my entire body every time his elbow bumped into my arm by mistake (which happened a lot, because he was left-handed and I’m not and we were sitting the wrong way around). 

Now, this had been going on for weeks when the skies suddenly opened above me and the teacher, an I’m frankly disappointed in how everything turned out ‘68 hippy, assigned us a written essay on Victor Hugo and socialism, something that, as an anxious, forgetful idiot with absolutely zero life, I knew quite a lot about. Plus, I was good at French, and that’s how The Boy turned towards me and asked if I’d be willing to help him, his hazel eyes all clear and earnest, shining like stolen jewels on his horse-like face, and being a Cosmo reader, I heard myself laugh throatily and ask, ‘Sure - what will you give me in return?’ and fuck, how do these things happen and why are we not in control of our own bodies and also thank God, because he blinked at me and then said, in a slow voice I read as flirtatious, ‘I’ll buy you a drink’. And that’s how we all entered part C - there were weekly meetings with him in the library to write the essay together, and daily meetings with my girlfriends to analyse everything we’d ever said to each other and I think he was looking at you during break and I saw him blush twice now, he must be sensitive and My sister knows his cousin, I can tell her to ask him if he’s seeing anyone and also long walks by the river with my long-suffering guy friend during which I rambled on and on about how shiny The Boy’s hair was and he contributed to this mind-blowingly fascinating conversation mostly in uhms and grunts.

(Again, how could I have been so stupid? I mean, it was for the best in the end, but - ouch.)

And one windy evening of March, lo and behold, it was finally time for part D (no pun intended) - a bona fide D-A-T-E with The Boy, and possibly there’d be fireworks and he’d say, I’ve been wanting to kiss you for weeks and some tourist would snap a candid photo of us and then marvel at it, years and years later, because Do you ever wonder what happened to this couple, Mabel? Look at how happy and in love and beautiful they are and I’m not saying cover of the National Geographic, but cover of the National Geographic. Also, movies had taught me what was supposed to happen, you know?, 

which is why I borrowed make up and rollers from one of my friends and did a clothes pre-selection with her and then a second selection with my guy friend -

(I remember him sitting cross-legged on my bed and strumming my mom’s guitar as I hid behind the closet door to try on The Makeover Outfit and how his expression barely changed when he saw me in a skirt for the first time - how he said, ‘You look - good. He’s an idiot if he doesn’t go for it,’ and how the music turned into something slow and mournful as I disappeared again to put my jeans back on, and what the hell?)

- and at nine pm, I was ready - I had leveled up and transformed, or so it seemed - gone was the windbreaker, and the crappy Converse, and the overlarge plaid shirt - instead, my hair was curled in the right way and my skirt was short but not too short and I’d even bought a push-up bra which was uncomfortable as hell but Who cares, uh?, who cares? And let’s pretend my make-up was still perfect after biking twenty minutes in the half rain, because when I walked into the bar, some catchy song was on and my brand-new hoop earrings were catching the light just so and I was the Goddess of French and Sex and WITNESS ME and we saw each other at once - he was sitting with his friends, the Popular Good-at-Hockey Guys, and he turned as he heard the door open, as if he’d been expecting me, and he immediately smiled and came towards me and ‘So, what can I get you?’ and of course I ordered wine, because I was Sophisticated and also A Lady and as he pushed his way towards the counter I sat down at the only table for two and subtly (I hope) adjusted my cleavage and crossed my legs and wondered whether I should whip my copy of Rimbaud’s Les Illuminations out of my (well: my mom’s) purse just to make it extra clear I meant business, or if that would be considered impolite - a kind of, ‘You took forever to get me that drink’ reproach - and as I was still trying to decide, he came right back, all perfect and tall and horsey-looking in a grey shirt, and he was carrying my wine and a pint of dark beer and some idiotic voice in my head said, ‘Yes, we’d known each other for months, but I remember the night we truly fell in love - your father used to drink these strong beers, you know, and that evening-’ and before that thought could go anywhere, The Boy was there, at my table - he handed me the wine (our fingers touched) and he said ‘Thanks again, really - I would have been dead without you’ and then - and then he walked away and fucking sat down with his friends again because apparently he was a damn sophist underneath that equine disguise and he’d promised me a drink and now I had a drink and what the fuck? and for the second time that night I considered turning to Rimbaud, but you should never turn to Rimbaud because he was an addict and a killer, so I drained my wine in one gulp, looked around desperately, my vision already fogging over, for someone I could bother - there was no one I really knew, only older people and party people and cool people who were already looking at me weirdly - I shrugged my coat on and waved joyfully at The Boy on my way out and man, it’s been twenty years but sometimes I still wonder at it - I don’t think he wanted to be rude, I’m sure he was like me, awkward and empty-headed and inexperienced, and he now works with snakes in Canada so maybe there was something interesting about him, but after I never go to the movies guy and Do you go to this school? guy and Sorry, I’m looking for someone who’ll choke me during sex guy and - mostly - the ghost music / still not sure he existed for real guy, well - that was a crushing moment and the end of my grand plans and when I started to simply tell guys ‘I like you’ and also follow them home before they could realize what was going on and, whatever, if you’re looking for dating advice, that works much, much better. 

[Thanks again for your messages - if you like my writing, please visit my AO3 page!] 

[minaminokyoko]

The Last Jedi (A Spoilertastic Review)

So I stayed off Twitter for almost ten straight days and I reduced my Facebook usage by about 80% in the last 48-hours in order to avoid spoilers for The Last Jedi, as I was spoiled for Han Solo's death in The Force Awakens literal days before attending its premiere years ago. Was it worth staying off social media to stay unspoiled and unbiased?

Eh. I dunno.

So I'm now hearing, as I return to social media, that some fans hate the movie. Color me shocked. (That's sarcasm, if you can't tell--we really do need a font for that.) There is a large chunk of the Star Wars fandom that contains some of the nastiest, pettiest, most immature hypocrites on the planet earth, and I can see those same fans hating this movie. Well, maybe I can help balance the scales.

To be frank, I'm not a Star Wars fan. I saw the originals as a kid and liked them okay, I hated the prequels and I still think they have zero justification and do not stand up to even the slightest film criticism or storytelling criticism at all, and I liked The Force Awakens quite a lot. For me, The Force Awakens finally gave me a reason to personally invest in the Star Wars franchise. Don't get me wrong--as a kid and a teen, I liked Han and Leia. I liked the setting of the original trilogy and the memorable stories and performances and dialogue. However, Luke was, well, this is an unavoidable pun, a lukewarm character for me. I didn't really care about him and I didn't understand him from a personal standpoint, so while I enjoyed the story, I just didn't take anything away from it. Force Awakens introduced me to an ostracized girl who had a miserable existence who always felt like she was waiting for something to happen to give her life meaning, and a terrified slave/survivor who defected in order to run away from something he feared but he instead found a reason to stay and fight. Plus, adding in the fact that Finn is awkward and likable and now I am emotionally invested in the new main leads of the franchise.

Sadly, though, The Last Jedi falls short in most of the aspects that made me like Force Awakens. Keep in mind, it's still an enjoyable film, but it most definitely suffers from Middle Movie Syndrome, where there's a lot of wheel-spinning because they need action set pieces, but in the end, what happens doesn't really change much about the characters or their motivations. Allow me to explain below. Naturally, spoiler alert.

Overall Grade: B-/C+

Pros:

-Creative scenarios. I like the film's creativity in terms of the scenery. The Force Awakens lived in the shadow of the original films. It was a very strict sort of format in order to make the older fans feel at home and to bring the new fans into the franchise at the same stepping off point. However, this film was able to stretch out a bit and not feel as bound by the same look and feel of the original trilogy. I know a lot of fans bitched about that with Force Awakens, and I think it was a semi-legit complaint, but I felt it was mostly the studio being cautious and trying not to piss off such a massive number of fans. Here, the scenery feels new and fresh, from the casino to the large part of the plot taking place on unfamiliar planets or with the rebels in space.

-I'm not going to sit here and lie--Oscar Isaac finally got to me a little bit in this one. Don't get me wrong, I liked Poe but I noticed Isaac amassing a legion of fangirls and was mystified as to why. Poe was a good character and Isaac's a good actor. Then when I saw Poe getting passionate about the rebellion, I admit I started to swoon a bit. There's just something about the way that he cares, how he makes the war feel that much more personal, and his relationship with Leia that floats my skirt up quite a bit. I like that he is hardheaded and impulsive, but he still feels like his own man. At first, I was worried he'd be our Han Solo replacement, but they drifted away from that idea. He's a very enjoyable character and I give a damn about him. I like that he grew this time, that he was able to recognize that he can't make every mission a suicide mission because the rebels have limited numbers and every man is precious. That's cool. I can dig it. Nice work, Mr. Isaac.

-I enjoyed seeing Finn take another step towards becoming a more stable rebel. He was still naive and brash, but he gave it his all and he was ready to make the ultimate sacrifice in order to do what he felt was right. I appreciate the hell out of that and I'm glad they didn't kill him. I threw my hands up in the theater because I like him a lot and I thought they were going to do the dumb thing and waste him. Phew. Bullet dodged, for now at least.

-I enjoyed seeing Yoda pop back up. Granted, he took his sweet ass time, but that was a nice surprise for me. I thought it was very touching to see him again, and well timed since Frank Oz is on the older side and we don't know how much longer we'll get to enjoy him.

-The Luke and Leia forehead kiss almost made me cry. Fuck. God. It was eerily appropriate as our goodbye to the amazing Carrie Fisher. I miss her terribly and seeing them reunite for the last time genuinely tugged at my heart strings.

-I liked the idea of Luke wavering when he found out Darth Temper Tantrum--excuse me, Kylo Ren slash Ben Solo--and being faced with a terrible choice. I like that Kylo's interpretation of danger is what screwed everything up and made him run away. It's a simple misunderstanding on a grand scale that is important to both of them and it's about the only thing that I think works about Kylo Ren's character. We'll discuss more about him in the Cons section, though. I like it because it's reminiscent of something I love from The Dresden Files series, where Karrin Murphy and Harry Dresden are talking about the fact that some people become monsters because you treat them like monsters. The possibility that maybe he wouldn't have turned if Luke hadn't gone there to stop him is great motivation to cut yourself off forever and feel that you deserve to die alone with the last of the Jedi kind.

-Luke's projecting power at the end was a nice aversion to being slain by the whiny git Kylo Ren. I'm still angry he dies anyway, because what the fuck was the point if you still killed him off, but that was a cool power that I don't recall seeing before and it made Luke seem even more badass than I ever thought possible. Nice work, Luke.

-We'll discuss my problem with Ren's fake redemption arc momentarily, but I did like the scene where he kills Snoke. That was a nifty idea and I like that Snoke's smug ass didn't see it coming. He was so convinced he knew everything and that manipulating Ren and Rey would give him what he wanted, but it didn't and that's a satisfying story element in a movie that kind of botches most of its pay off.

-I liked the Purple Haired Lady (sorry, I didn't catch her name, I have a bad memory) light-speeding right through the fucking Empire ship. That was a badass way to go. Now, granted, I still think it's pretty ridiculous that all the main characters managed to survive a catastrophic event like that no problem, but it was still cool as hell.

-Rey's a nobody. Called it. I love that she didn't have super special plot relevant parents. They were just scumbag assholes, much like Yondu's parents in Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 2. Thanks for disproving all the nonsensical fan theories. I knew she wouldn't be Luke or Leia's bloodline, but I like it even better than her parents don't even get names or anything. That's baller storytelling.

-Leia surviving the cruiser explosion. What. A. Badass. Motherfucker.

Cons:

-The biggest problem I have with the Last Jedi is Kylo Ren's fake redemption arc. Look, I get what they were going for. It's reminiscent of what happened to Zuko in the amazing Avatar: The Last Airbender series, and that to date is still the best redemption arc I have ever seen with my own two eyes. That's possibly why this one fell so flat for me. The set up for Kylo Ren is relatively solid. He was raised by heroes of the rebellion and so it was expected of him to become something great, and Luke training him sounds like a great bit of backstory as well. However, by not showing us details, Ren's redemption arc rings hollow as hell. Let me explain. They never showed us the details of the darkness that was apparently building in Ren. What is it driven by? Is it just a feeling? Was he just dangerous and unwilling to listen to Luke while he was in training? You can't just give such a blanket statement without reasoning or showing the actual backstory itself where we see what made him someone Luke thought would kill or massacre the innocent. I think the movie should have had a flashback segment of Luke and Ren's training days where we see that, yes, the kid was powerful but he had no restraint and he was arrogant and cruel or at the very least, unfeeling. Most of the time when you have that type of character, it's one of those traits that leads to evil. He thinks he's above the law or above reproach because of his power, or in Ren's case, it could have been because of his parentage. That was a huge missed opportunity. Maybe he was just a spoiled brat from being the son of two war heroes and the nephew of one of the greatest Jedi of all time. But we get none of that. We just get that he was a bad apple and Luke panicked and his panic made Ren run away. But that brings me to the next part that doesn't work in this film. Okay, so you think your uncle tried to kill you. Why did you immediately decide to join up with the fucking Space Nazis? How does that work for your desires? We don't know why Ren joined up. It's one thing to abandon your family out of anger and shame, but the Empire literally slaughters billions of innocent lives on a daily basis. We don't know why Ren said yes to them because we haven't been told personal details about him. Why did he blame Han and Leia? It's totally backwards. He should have gone to them and told them what Luke did, and there should have been repercussions. Maybe they didn't believe him and that's why he ran off, but the film doesn't tell us any of these things that would help us understand him more. Then, the final nail is the idea that Kylo murdered the other young Jedi, murdered Han, tried to murder Leia, and has been in the company of genocidal maniacs for years, and yet the film wants me to believe he can be saved. Nah, bruh. You gone. You been gone. You're not gonna flash your puppy dog eyes at me and think I want you to come to the light side. You stood by and watched billions of people die and yet Rey's big blues make you change your mind, but only for your own ambition? Fuck off. That entire thing fell to shambles for me. I like the idea of Rey and Ren having a connection because they are both alone and unsure of themselves, but this was not the way to do it. Ren's actions are beyond irredeemable. They were irredeemable the second he killed Han. Han didn't do shit to that snot-nosed punk bitch. He was his father and he wasn't the one who turned on him, it was Luke, so frankly, Ren can fuck off the edge of my non-existent dick, and I don't like that the movie swept all his indiscretions under the table to say maybe there was still good in him. He's a selfish bastard and that's that.

-Implying that Rey would turn to the Dark side fell flat on its face as well. She had no reason to turn. The movie played with the fact that she was alone, but that still doesn't work. She's not alone. She has Finn and the rebels. Sure, none of them would be able to understand the Jedi aspect of her personality, but it's still stupid for them to act like she would just be magically okay with the genocidal maniacs who slaughtered everything in the galaxy. It was weird, too, because Ren says something to the effect of "I saw you turn" and that doesn't happen, so was he lying to manipulate her or did the movie drop the subplot altogether? There was never a moment that I doubted her. I knew she had a pure heart because of what we've seen from her before. All we knew is that she was simply scared and alone. None of that translated to her joining the fucking Space Nazis, so why did they even pursue it? I think this could have been done better if instead of Ren killing Han (but to be fair, it's all Harrison Ford's goddamn fault, if he didn't hate Han, then this idea could have worked) we saw Ren and Rey starting to understand each other BEFORE he killed Han. Love is a strong motivator for if you want to have this idea of Rey possibly wavering from the light. I sure as fuck don't ship Reylo and I think it's gross, but if you rewrote the movie so that she and Ren bonded in the first film rather than him simply terrorizing her, then sure, the second film where she feels a connection with him and wants to rule at his side because she loves him now makes sense. The idea is similar to something from my urban fantasy series that I wrote, where the villain has no plans of ever turning good, but he has a soft spot for the leading lady and he doesn't want so much to turn her as make her his so he can be with her, and she doesn't so much want to turn him good as she recognizes that there is something inside him that calls to her. This is one of the only cases where I think a canon romance would have made more sense than whatever we got in the film itself. I could see Rey doubting herself if she fell in love with Ren. The starcrossed lovers angle is much stronger and much more believable than just "Rey doesn't know who she is and she thinks maybe she can bring Ren back to the light."

-I didn't like Finn and Rey being apart for the entire film. I think their friendship was easily the best and strongest thing about the Force Awakens. Both of them had strong motivations to do what they did and it made sense for them to both care so deeply for each other because they crashed into each other's lives and saved each other. They work better side by side, not in separate storylines. Their friendship was charming and adorable and this film really should have used it.

-If you add everything up, Finn's entire mission was pointless. The stand-in commander already had a plan and so everything Poe, Rose, and Finn did was pointless in the end. That sucks. You wasted their time and the audience's time, and that's what I meant when I said this movie has Middle Movie Syndrome. It feels like they just needed to find something for Finn, Rose, and Poe to do and so they just threw them this B Plot that is entirely useless and that's a huge disservice to them as characters.

-Rose is pretty forgettable. That's not knocking the actress playing her. It's just she's sort of a tool to the story and they really should have given her a better role with better stakes. I also don't like the shoehorned "love" line. It was a good line for the rebellion, but not for those two characters. I don't buy Rose falling for Finn. Finn's awesome, but they didn't go through nearly enough and didn't bond at all during their journey, so that "love" line is awkward and unwanted to me.

-Luke's death. Look, the fucking movie is called The Last Jedi, but did you really have to fake us out only to kill him anyway? That was fucking lame. What would have made it go down easier is if Luke had known when we first see him again that he was on his last legs. Build up his final days. Have him be old and tired and coughing constantly or knowing by the Force that he's reached the last moments of his lifetime, and that's why finally spurs him on to help the rebels once again after he meets Rey. Don't spring it on us. It didn't have a good impact because it just felt obligatory because it's the future franchise and we have to have our original three protagonists all bow out for the new kids on the block. I wanted a more touching death scene for him, even though I liked Han and Leia more from the original films. It just felt like a waste of a great legend for him to die out of nowhere. I actually thought from that shot that he saw an Empire ship firing at the island to kill him and I sort of like that more, as it would have been a good sucker punch (and we did hear Snoke mention that before he died) so I think this was yet another missed opportunity.

-Though the entire movie focuses on Rey, I feel like it told me less about her than the first film did. I like that she's a nobody. That's good. That's strong. That's interesting. But I don't like that she didn't really bond with Luke and I don't feel as if she learned a single damn thing on that island aside from maybe Ren was starting to falter, but in the end all he did was kill Snoke and assume command. He didn't turn back to the light, so why was there all this focus on him that took away from her? I was excited for the film because I thought Luke would come around and train her the way Yoda trained him. That would reveal more of her abilities and her strengths and weaknesses, but we didn't get much of that at all and it's not fair to her. She has so much potential, but it felt squandered to me.

-The goddamn Porgs. Look, Disney, I know you gotta sell toys, but I haven't seen such a transparent fucking commercial for toys since Olaf from Frozen. Jesus H. Christ. They literally just keep popping up on screen like a goddamn commercial. It's so obnoxious. They are not that cute. They're just gerbils with duck feet. I think Star Wars fans overreacted about the Ewoks, but if they all hate the Porgs, sure, I'll light a torch to march in that parade. Stop that. I'm watching a movie, for God's sake, not a toy commercial.

-I'm not really sure where things are heading with where it ends here. It just seems sort of vague and undefined, and as if we didn't get much accomplished in the long run. Very wheelspin-y.

-There’s a million plotholes and plot contrivances. I can’t be bothered to count them all, so a year from now when CinemaSins does a video, then I’ll post a link, Just know there are a lot of plotholes this time around.

Bottom line: if the neckbeards are out here hating the movie, cry me a fucking river. It is in no way that bad. The prequels are still by far the worst movies in the franchise. I think The Last Jedi is simply misguided. It brings up great questions, but then doesn't answer or address most of them. It introduces too many ideas without flushing them out and making you connect on a personal level the way The Force Awakens did. It's mainly just that the goals are unclear and so are the characters. I think it's still possible to get the franchise back on track with the final film. I certainly don't think this movie is bad by any stretch. I just feel that it missed its target. Maybe they'll hit it next time.

[preserving-ferretbrain]

Book Review: The Lies of Locke Lamora

by Wardog

Wednesday, 14 November 2007

Wardog actually likes something - possibly because she didn't have to pay for it.~

Father Chains sat on the roof of the House of Perelandro, staring down at the astonishingly arrogant fourteen-year-old that he little orphan he'd purchased so many years before from the Thiefmaker of Shades' Hill had become. "Some day, Locke Lamora," he said, "some day, you're going to fuck up so magnificently, so ambitiously, so overwhelmingly that the sky will light up and the moons will spin and the gods themselves will shit comets with glee. And I just hope I'm still around to see it." "Oh, please," said Locke. "It'll never happen."

The Lies of Locke Lamora is basically a fantasy-heist novel, but it's also a pleasant breeze through a stale genre (yes, I'm bitter), shorter than the typical eighty million pages and a surprisingly assured and competent debut. I picked it up in Hay on Wye for a sum so ludicrously trifling (a mere one of my English pounds) that it almost felt as if Scott Lynch had come up to me in the street and asked me nicely to read his novel, the consequence of which is that my critical objectivity is shot to buggery but I think I'd still be recommending this if I'd forked out the

requisite 7.99.

Locke Lamora - otherwise known as the Thorn of Camorr - is the leader of a tightly knit group of conmen-thieves known as the Gentleman Bastards. As the novel kicks off, they are in the process of scamming a couple of aristocrats out of a portion of their fortune, coincidentally violating the long-standing Secret Peace that has been negotiated between the criminal underworld and the upper echelons of society. Meanwhile a mysterious personage known as the Grey King is preying upon the thieves of Camorr and forces Locke to participate in his personal vendetta against the city's crimelord Capa Barsavi. Needless to say, events soon spiral massively out of Locke's control and he finds himself caught up in something that threatens not only the people he cares for but the entire stability of the city. The first third of the book is a rompish heist, complete with all the usual twists and turns, but then it twists on its axis becoming a much darker and more serious story, although it never loses the edge of gallows-humour that makes it such a pleasure to read.

The Lies of Locke Lamora is a truly a rootless, bastard child of the genre: there's a fair mixing of Feist, Gavriel Kay, Brust, Miville, Pratchett and Dickens to be found within, to say nothing of the more than passing nods to movies like The Godfather, The Sting, Oceans 11, Scar Face and Goodfellas. It's not flawless, but it's still damn good: a fast-paced, page-turning adventure story set in a complex and intriguing world that doesn't drown you in detail (although I expect the author will soon forget this and commence the deluge). Camorr provides an excellent backdrop for Lamora's exploits: an island city built of Elderglass by a race nobody remembers, it seems to be inspired by 16th century Venice, with all the attendant squalor and decadence. There's definitely world-building going on but its of the subtle kind that successfully creates the impression of a living and very real city without racking up a page count hefty enough to kill a walrus (*cough* Miville *cough*). Lynch's imagination encompasses both beauty and brutality, dancing easily from the banal to the opulent, from frivolity to genuine threat. One of my favourite chapters introduces the fencing master, Don Maranzella in his House of Glass Roses:

"Here was an entire rose garden, wall after all, of perfect petals and stems and thorns, silent and scentless and alive with reflected fire, for it was all carved from Elderglass, a hundred thousand blossoms, perfect down to the tiniest thorn ... ... each wall of roses was actually transparent .... Yet there were patches of genuine colour here and there in the hearts of the sculptures, swirled masses of reddish-brown transulence like clouds of rust-coloured smoke frozen in ice. These clouds were human blood.

I can forgive Lynch for lingering in his fairytale garden of blood-thirsty roses and his farmer-turned-fencing master is a wonderful antidote to all those artistic gentlemanly types with their flourishing rapiers. This chapter seems to illustrate Lynch at his very best - the strange, sculpted roses and the introduction of the fencing master, the shift from pretension to pragmatism, from description to dialogue, from fantastical lyricism to dark humour and the sudden stripped-down truth about what Jean Tannen has really come to learn:

"Jean, you misunderstand." Maranzella kicked idly at the toy rapier and it clattered across the tiles of the roof top. "Those prancing little pants-wetters come here to learn the colourful and gentlemanly art of fencing, with its many sporting limitations and its proscriptions against dishonourable engagements. You, on the other hand," he said, as he turned to give Jean a firm but friendly poke in the centre of his forehead, "you are going to learn how to kill men with a sword."

The book itself is interestingly structured - it reminds me rather of Heroes, in fact. It consists of a succession of short chapters building to a mini-climax, followed by a brief interlude, either a tale of the City and its Gods, or a flashback to the early years and training of Locke and his gang. This actually works really well. The interludes are generally absorbing enough that, even though I was eager to find out what was going to happen next, I didn't skip them or resent reading them ... at least not very much. Furthermore, most of the interludes, although not precisely relevant, often offer an illumination on future events, thus rewarding the alert reader. And it does solve the perennial fantasy book problem of how to introduce the hero to the reader and show his gradual development from child to adult without spending the first five hundred pages of the novel narrating every little moment of the hero's childhood in agonisingly tedious detail. Part of me, however, couldn't quite shake the conviction that it was a cheap trick. It's a very obvious way to build tension and create anxiety and uncertainty in the reader and occasionally interferes with the pacing at critical moments.

Lynch's is a self-consciously "dark" world; there's an awful lot of swearing and torture, and the central characters are, of course, thieves and murderers. But since we only ever see them stealing from the rich and murdering those who thoroughly deserve it and their loyalty to each other is unswerving, there's never really any question of their being admirable characters deep down. This is not a problem per se; but the book is about as morally ambiguous as my Grandmother:

"I only steal because my dear old family needs the money to live!" Locke Lamora made this proclamation with his wine glass held high ... ... the others began to jeer. "Liar!" they chorused "I only steal because this wicked world won't let me work an honest trade!" Calo cried, hoisting his own glass. "LIAR!" "I only steal," said Jean, "because I've temporarily fallen in with bad company." "LIAR!" At last the ritual came to Bug; the boy raised his glass a bit shakily and yelled, "I only steal because it's heaps of fucking fun!" "BASTARD!"

Stealing may be wrong but it's also big and clever and all the cool kids are doing it. The exuberance and loyalty of the Gentleman Bastards is charming and it's impossible not to root for them. On the other hand, I am conscious of a vague dissatisfaction with Locke. The book is careful to assert that he is skinny and unremarkable and a poor fighter but he is also a consummate conman with incredible reserves of tenacity and courage, he is cunning, daring and quick-thinking, and there is no sacrifice he will not consider to preserve the safety of his friends and loved ones. He can be ruthless when necessary, he has the survival instincts of a rat, he's reckless occasionally but only in a way we're meant to think is cool and, on top of all this, he has a conscience and listens to it. Needless to say his origins are shrouded in mystery (I'm sure this will be Very Important later) and his creator is head over heels in love with him. I came dangerously close to finding the character annoying and if Lynch isn't careful he's going to be unbearable a couple of books down the line.

Speaking of the dreaded "couple of books down the line" The Lies of Locke Lamora does a reasonable job of offering a coherent and contained plot arc, but there are several dangling threads (the most irritating of which is Locke's love interest, a woman occasionally mentioned but never introduced) presumably left there to wet the appetite for future books. The mighty internet tells me there will be seven of these, which triggers all my cringe mechanisms. This cannot end well. Has nobody learned anything from JK Rowling?

The second book of the septad, Red Seas Under Red Skies, has recently been released - having enjoyed the first book has much as I did, I'm now terrified to read the second in case it sucks. I guess I'll have to wait until it's available for 1 again. But, in the meantime, you could do worse than taking a look at The Lies of Locke Lamora. It's not perfect - Mary Sue-ish main character, a plot necessitated, damn near omnipotent bondsmage - and I understand it has received some criticism for its modern-sounding speech but, quite frankly, I found that contributed to the lively, irreverent tone of the book. But it is a fun, fast-paced read in a ponderous genre and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

PS - This is really childish (and has nothing to do with the review at all) but I think I also need to point out that Scott Lynch looks like this --->: 

Arthur B

at 17:09 on 2007-11-14I was toying with doing a Reading Canary for this one, and might still do if I get around to picking up

Red Seas

, but you seem to have covered most of the bases. I agree that criticising the book for modern-sounding speech is reaching a little - if an author's simply more comfortable writing dialogue in a modern style then I'd rather they did that than attempt to try Ye Olde Speeche and fail horribly. I also agree that Lynch is a little too in love with Lamora, and indeed most of the book's fans are a little too much in love with Lamora; the fun of the book comes when Locke screws up horribly, and if you look at it objectively he isn't actually as nice a guy as Lynch thinks he is. That's why the book works, of course: the big central conflict is about accepting a rotten compromise which causes suffering for a few but provides peace and security for many, or rejecting that compromise knowing full well that rejection means no peace or security for anyone, and it's good that the representatives of both sides have their good and bad points.

The big criticism I'd have is that all the flashback bits to their childhood simply weren't as interesting to me as the main story: I'd much rather have a book half the length without the flashbacks. It doesn't matter whether Jean was taught swordplay by a farmer-turned-toff in a blood garden or by a toff-turned-farmer in a turnip patch: I can't think of any instance in the main storyline where it becomes at all relevant. There is one flashback which nicely foreshadows the final conflict, but it does so by basically explaining what Locke's tactic is going to be, so the ending is a bit obvious. Also, yes, big smirking long-haired Scott Lynch wants to kiss big smirking long-haired Locke, a meeting of shit-eating grins which thankfully cannot actually occur in real life.

Thing is, I'm not sure whether I'll ever actually get around to picking up

Red Seas

. I picked up

Lies

second-hand too, and while it's a fun and consistently not-crap read it isn't quite good enough to force me to go buy the new one. I'm not convinced that the character merits more than one book about him.

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empink

at 00:01 on 2007-11-15@ Arthur

For now, I'd say not to bother with Red Seas. It's also a fairly consitently not-crap read, but imho the author's love for his character really burns strong in the sequel. I don't know why I couldn't put my finger on it when I read it, but Kyra hits the nail on the head here. He really, really loves this character of his, and it means he gets to do all kinds of improbably cool stuff.

Now, while that was fun in the first book, it starts to wear on you in the second one. The dialogue needs to be beaten with the boring stick (I swear, everything everyone says is so witty that you WISH someone would say something dumb at some point. Which they don't. ARGH), and the plot is just...stretchy, in terms of suspension of disbelief.

All I know to say is that, having read Red Seas, I'm not going to jones for the rest of the series anywhere as near as I am jonesing for one or two others, because it probably won't be worth it.

PS, Kyra, the mysterious woman never actually shows up in Red Seas. But she does get mentioned. A LOT. *facepalm*

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Wardog

at 09:22 on 2007-11-15ACtually my copy of Lies was brand, spanking new and still one pound - that's why I'm so smug about it. I LOVE you Hay on Wye!

Ahem, anyway. I actually found Locke irritatingly virtuous. Even when he's trying to get a suit of clothes, and he drops an innocent waiter into the shit, he still takes time extract said waiter *and* give him a purse containing more money he's ever held in his life. Until that point I was actually impressed that he'd completely fucked up the waiter's life - it made him less sympathetic but I think, perhaps, more interesting?

I genuinely didn't mind the flashbacks and interludes; they weren't *quite* as interesting as the main plot but I didn't find them sufficiently tedious that they detracted from it too badly. And I was oddly into Jean Tannen (even though he's basically just a side-kick protector for Locke)so I really loved the stuff in the House of Glass Roses; also it is relevant because it "explains" why Jean can take out the two shark-baiting sisters without getting completely mullered.

And thanks for the warnings, Empink, I very very nearly bought a full-price copy of Red Seas the other day and I'm now *so glad* I didn't. I'm not sure I can stand another book of love-interest build-up because you just *know* she won't live up to it. And I don't wish to see Lynch consummating his relationship with Locke in an orgy of cool stunts.

I did find Lies genuinely witty but mainly because the characters tended to say something deeply pragmatic or macabre or just plain inappropriate at what would otherwise be very serious moments. It helped me get through the nasty bits (becuase I'm a wimp) and it also tended to have a nice edge of desperation to it - whereas I don't think I *want* a dazzling virtuoso wit-fest from the Book II.

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Arthur B

at 12:19 on 2007-11-15Empink:

I'd been wondering what I'd found weird about the dialogue in

Lies

, but you've put your finger on it: everybody's a smartarse. I can remember a couple of times where I was having trouble following conversations, because everyone's dialogue is so similar in tone and delivery that there's little differentiating them. It feels less like a bunch of different people are having a conversation and more like Lynch has a bunch of sockpuppets that he's using to tell a story - you never forget that it's Lynch behind all of them. (Still, at least it is monotonous in a clever and witty and entertaining way as opposed to monotonous in a consistently dumb and boring way.)

Kyra:

You're right about the overvirtuousness. I was remembering the bit where he wrecks the waiter's life, but not the part where he makes it all better. I think the worst thing he does in the entire book is play a practical joke on the secret police (you know, the one with the boats full of shit).

I like Jean too, but I worry that I only like him because he's a floating bit of driftwood in an ocean of Locke; he's the only other interesting character we spend an extended amount of time with (though I also liked the Capa's daughter and the Grey King and the head of the secret police), so he's a welcome relief from an unending shower of Lamora-love. As far as the Glass Roses stuff explaining the shark sisters fight, I consider "Jean is a rock-hard son of a bitch" to be a more than adequate explanation for why he beat them. Jean being a rock-hard son of a bitch is neatly demonstrated in the main story by, well, Jean beating the shark sisters...

Both of ye:

I think it's fairly obvious at this point that the Mysterious Love Interest is, in fact, Scott Lynch in a dress.

Either that, or she'll be the big bad at the end of the series.

Possibly the big bad will be Scott Lynch in a dress.

The intersection of Lynchsmirk and Lamoracock providing the cure to the world's ills.

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Wardog

at 14:18 on 2007-11-15I actually thought the dialogue in Lies was just about cope-able with - it's true that everyone sounds nearly the same but that genuinely didn't bother me except occasionally when Locke was conversing with arisocrats and then it grated somewhat. Dona Sofia, for example, is clearly meant to have a distinct and feisty personality with her alchemy and everything - but I never really got much from her. I think I was just glad to have snappy, modern-sounding dialogue for a change, instead of ponderous faux-medieval stuff.

But Jean was a fat, weepy merchant's son - he had to go from that to RHSOFAB somehow; sure, you didn't need to really know how but since these two sisters were meant to be *all that* it wouldn't have made sense for some thiefly-brawler to be able to take them out.

I still feel positive about Lies, despite its flaws. You were obviously considerably more irritated by the Locke-Lovin' than I was. And Lynch isn't the most talented ventriloquist but I didn't feel him in the background as much as you did either. I shouldn't have put up the picture, I think I've just generated undue hostility by drawing attention to the fact he looks like the sort of person we know.

But I genuinely think Lies stands as a good fantasy read; future books, well, we'll see...

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Wardog

at 14:21 on 2007-11-15Also, I think Arthur is just being discriminating because Lynch isn't a hottie like

Gene Wolfe

;)

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Arthur B

at 14:57 on 2007-11-15

But Jean was a fat, weepy merchant's son - he had to go from that to RHSOFAB somehow; sure, you didn't need to really know how but since these two sisters were meant to be *all that* it wouldn't have made sense for some thiefly-brawler to be able to take them out.

Yeah, but we only know that because of the flashbacks, so Lynch ends up setting up a problem which he then feels that he needs to solve with more flashbacks. It'd be more interesting, to me, if he'd established the sonofabitchness of Jean early on, and then dropped hints through the main action that Jean actually comes from a softer, more pudding-like background. I honestly don't think it matters at all, to

Lies

, how Jean got hard - I think most readers can happily accept that a life on the streets as a criminal will tend to make people either sneaky or fighty, regardless of their background.

My worry is that Lynch felt the need to dump all the backstory with Chains and the farmer-turned-toff and the farmer-who-ended-up-a-farmer-again because he's got this big backstory he wants to hint at which is suddenly going to becoming very relevant in the later novels, in a kind of "James Potter was mean to Snape at school" kind of way. And who's willing to bet that this is going to tie in with Long Lost Bint somehow?

Don't worry about the photo, I'd probably be saying the same sort of things about the novel even if Lynch looked like my beloved Wolfe - although it's a lot funnier knowing that Lynch looks like that. I do think it's a fun, likeable novel and worth reading for entertainment; most of my problems stem from my impression that Lynch wants us to think it's something more than that. Then again, maybe I've been spoiled by

Vlad Taltos

, who pushes similar buttons and whose writer looks like

the bastard son of Terry Pratchett and Frank Zappa

.

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Wardog

at 15:12 on 2007-11-15Jesus CHRIST! *faints*

Yeah, I think you might be right about Jean; I guess it depends how much we care that this stuff is going to become Meaningful later. JKR has soured me on that sort of thing forever.

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Arthur B

at 15:38 on 2007-11-15Is that you swooning before the dreamy gaze of Brust?

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Alice

at 22:21 on 2013-08-28Necro-ing this post, since I've finally gotten round to reading the book after finding the post via the random button.

I mostly more or less enjoyed it, in an "oh, must you really, Scott Lynch?" sort of way - I actually enjoyed the backstory parts more than the main plot, perhaps because while Lynch SUPER-UNSUBTLY wrote out Locke's love interest right from the beginning, at least he didn't have her murdered and delivered to her father in a barrel of horse urine in order to kick off the main plot.

(That was the bit that really made me roll my eyes and give up on enjoying the book in anything other than a superficial way. Lynch slightly redeems himself by having the head of the secret police be a badass old lady with a cane, but I really liked Nazca, I thought she was cool, so I was extra annoyed when she got fridged.)

I really like Jean Tannen, though, so part of me is tempted to at least give book 2 a go.

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Robinson L

at 15:30 on 2016-10-05Listened to this one on audiobook several months back, and enjoyed it as a fantasy heist/adventure yarn; it was quite fun. I hope it wasn't Lynch's intention for me to read any deeper meaning into it, because I really doubt it would hold up to that kind of scrutiny, and it would raise a bunch of awkward questions I don't think he's prepared to answer.

I was a bit disappointed by the ending, because the best bits of the book are generally when somebody is executing a masterful con: whereas Locke spends the last few chapters of

Lies

alternately pleading, cajoling, and punching his way to victory.

I guess I didn't mind too much Locke being both an authorial darling and a hyper-competent master criminal, because, as Arthur pointed out in his original comment, he regularly screws up, finds himself outsmarted or outmaneuvered, and generally gets the everloving shit kicked out of him and/or reduced to a blubbering wreck. For me, this was enough to make the balance tip over into “enjoyable” protagonist rather than “insufferable,” though I realize folks' mileage will vary.

I also really liked the character of Father Chains. The samey-ness of all the characters' dialogue has been brought up already, and I just kind of shrugged it off—however, even with that, I feel like Chains got in an inordinate amount of memorable lines. Also, for some reason, the character of a hard-cussin' scoundrel priest really appeals to me. (Technically, Locke is one, too, but his priestliness is kept mostly to the background.)

I was also disappointed they didn't wind up causing the death of the Bonds Mage (perhaps by accident). As arc plots go, “high class thieves on the run from an immensely powerful and vindictive wizards' guild” sounds pretty solid, and could justify the seven book length to show how our heroes go from fleecing the city's upper class to taking on said wizards' guild and winning.

Like Alice, I disliked that the book fridges Nazca in such an ignominious fashion to kick off the main plot, although I was somewhat mollified that the villain then proceeded to wipe out the rest of the Clan Barsavi in similarly brutal fashion, meaning she wasn't the One Big Death, she was just the first major casualty (plus, three quarters of Locke's chums, also all male, go down shortly thereafter). Again, though, I recognize not everyone is going to be satisfied with this, nor am I arguing they should be.

For whatever it means, in the third book, Nazca is the only member of the Barsavi family who Jean deems worthy of mentioning among the list of people they've lost when he's reeling it off to Locke.

Speaking of deaths, I was extremely relieved that Jean Tannen survived the Grey King's betrayal: Locke really needed a sidekick for the story to work, and Jean was easily the best of the lot. His friendship with Locke is great, and one of my favorite parts of the book was actually the flashback to when he first joined the crew, after Locke's initial attack of sibling rivalry, where Jean asks Locke to help him steal stuff he can use as a death offering for his deceased parents, and Locke asks Jean to help him learn how to use an abacus*. So cute.

*This after Father Chains uses Jean's superiority with an abacus to humiliate Locke and demonstrate why Jean is a useful addition to the crew.

So that part was good, and I didn't mind the other flashbacks so much, though I might have if I'd read through the book instead of listening to it on audio. What I did mind was Lynch dropping a chapter about the Spider tumbling to Locke's latest scheme and setting a trap for him right after the cliffhanger chapter where he's been thrown into the river in a barrel of horse urine and left for dead. First and most obviously because it's a transparently artificial way to hold off resolving said cliffhanger (unlike the flashbacks, which happen in every chapter); but second and also perniciously, because it sucked so much of the tension out of later scenes with Locke trying to reestablish his Lucas Fehrwight scam—the main source of tension was now “will Locke fall into the Spider's trap, and if so, how will he escape it?” so all the stuff with him stealing an appropriate set of clothes felt like so much wasted time before we got back to the next big story question. And that's also unfortunate because I think the clothing scam was actually one of the strongest parts of the book.

Speaking of which, I see what you mean about Locke being “irritatingly virtuous,” though I didn't mind it much, either. The only part which really got me was the way he immediately opted for saving all the high-bread toffs of Camorr at the risk of missing his chance for revenge against the Grey King. I get that he's supposed to be a noble rogue character, but that part struck me as too altruistic to fit his personality. I would expect him at least to be seriously tempted to leave the aristocrats to their fate while he goes and settles the score with the guy who murdered all but one of his best friends. But no, in his mind, it isn't even a choice, and I don't understand why.

I think it should be noted, though, that Locke also does some really screwed up shit which he's never really called on (a major reason I resist taking the books at all seriously). This is a case in point:

he drops an innocent waiter into the shit, he still takes time extract said waiter *and* give him a purse containing more money he's ever held in his life.

Well, yeah, but he *also* gets the poor sod permanently exiled from the only home he's ever had, presumably cut off from friends, family, everyone and everything he knows. Now, for some people, I suppose this could be the best opportunity of their lives—for others, it would be a kind of hell. For all we know, that waiter might well have committed suicide a couple years later, unable to cope with his life's circumstances.

Other crimes of Master Lamora which go unaddressed: murdering the Grey King's assassin after getting information out of him by shutting him up in a cellar and setting fire to it. True, the man had just killed one of his and Jean's best friends and was complicit the conspiracy to kill them all, but that's an incredibly cruel way to dispatch him.

And biggest of all, he manipulates the Camorri top brass into demolishing the Grey King's escape ship and consigning the ~15 person crew to what I also recall being described as a particularly horrible death. True, they were all the Grey King's lackeys, but they were just there to help him get away with the loot (and not to infect half the city with awful plague, as Locke claims), which hardly seems to make them deserving of such a grisly execution.

I let all this pass because I take the books in a “fun adventure” mindset; if I took them seriously, I'd be forced to conclude that Locke Lamora is a terrible person in ways the books themselves aren't prepared to explore.

A final note on the audiobook version: Michael Page is a great narrator, his voice nicely capturing the story's narrative style, and bringing the characters vividly to life. He also does a wonderful job with the various accents which come into play (mostly as one or another of Locke's characters for a heist), making them very distinct and memorable. Perhaps too memorable, for I'm sure I've caught him recycling a number of secondary voices and accents—he's no Jim Dale—but still an impressive accomplishment which I think utterly nails the tone of the series.