#Fellas I think it's been AGES since last time I was this invested in a mlw ship like damn

[repo-net]

back at it again with my ocposting

I don't have any fics to post right now, and I'm not exactly in the mood to start working on any of them right now since I'm busy completing my projects so I can get my school's clearance signed for this year. I also feel kind of bad not having posted any actual content as of late, so I thought I might as well share another one of my wrestlerfic OCs.

This guy doesn't exactly have much of a detailed backstory and is only a side character in the end, but I am going to just put down the start of his story and what his general arc is; as he plays a major role in putting away the first half's main antagonist - the character I talked about last, Reyna.

Anyways, here's the fella. I love this silly scrunkly, he deserves the world.

(used Koikatsu to make this model)

Name: Naguib

From / Age: Sinai, Egypt / 27

Finishers: Sarcophakick (Similar to Booker T’s Scissor Kick. Charges at the opponent (who is usually bent over) and jumps at them, driving one leg on the back of their neck while the other is on the front of their head, forcing them into pain with an attack that plants them onto the ground with the user’s leg on the way down. Named as such due to the way the move closes in on both sides and traps the opponent, like burying someone with a sarcophagus) (pin)

Story: Naguib had always been a bit of a strange and outgoing kid. While nobody really hated him, as the young Egyptian's heart was too pure and kind for people to really think he's horrible to be around, his attitude and energy was just too much for anyone to keep up with and he was a bit of an outcast among the community that he lived with. While on the run from a rabid dog, he accidentally finds himself in a small house with a fellow kid named Aban watching wrestling on his TV. Curiously, Aban (who was a very quiet and reserved kid, kinda just blank all the time) didn't bother to kick the person that just barged into his home, and just allowed Naguib to stay until he deemed it was safe.

Naguib quickly became invested and enamored by the wrestlers on TV and wanted to be just like them. With only a few hours of watching wrestling together in strange circumstances, Naguib deemed Aban a friend and decided he wanted to become wrestlers with Aban. Aban was confused, but he just nodded and went along with it. They've been extremely close friends since then, a perfect contrast of a guy with too much energy and a guy with none at all.

After working hard and getting signed into the promotion together, Naguib looked forward to conquering the wrestling world with his best friend. And while Aban slowly rose up the rankings and was becoming a star, Naguib was... not as fortunate. He was struggling to rack up wins, having only 3 while already having lost 6. Aban on the other hand was already at 7 wins and 3 losses. There was a distinct difference in the direction each of their careers were going, and most people; including Naguib was starting to think that Aban was being held down by being associated with his best friend.

Desperately needing a win to gain some credibility back, Naguib decides to mess around with the local joke and jobber of the company in Bouzou (yes, it's pronounced bozo) who has 0 wins and 8 losses to his name, challenging him to a lumberjack match (a match where various wrestlers are standing outside the ring, and are encouraged to beat the competitors in the match if they find themselves outside the ring). In a horrible twist of luck, Bouzou manages to pick up his first ever win against Naguib to a roaring and jeering crowd, to which the wrestlers happily carry the winner off to the back while Naguib just sits there in the ring in disbelief and embarrassment.

After his embarrassing loss, Naguib spends the next few weeks searching for anyone to take him and team up with him (and he does this thinking that Aban doesn't wanna be around him anymore, believing in his own head that Aban has already outgrown and outrun him). But nobody wants to be associated with the guy. Not a single person in that locker room wants him, and with his last-ditch effort standing in front of him in the form of the champion's door to her locker room, he just sighs and nervously goes in.

Naguib meets Reyna, who is in the room with her actual protege and the girl she took under her wing; Kali. After Kali suffered an incredibly hard-fought and close loss in her debut against the Number 2 ranked wrestler in the company, Reyna saw potential in her and personally offered Kali to be under the champion's arms. Though honestly, some part of Reyna was intimidated by how much Kali was able to do at such an early part of her career and realized that if the latter kept getting better and climbing, Reyna might actually get owned and dethroned. So y'know, might as well keep your potential enemies away from becoming that.

When Naguib entered the room, Reyna has a confused look on her face because she's apparently so leagues ahead of the guy that she straight up doesn't even recognize him until she finds out that this is apparently the guy that Bouzou won against, which she just laughs a lot at once she realizes that after a few rumors circled around about some guy that lost to that joke of a wrestler happened to reach her ear.

Naguib is desperate and needs to have someone that's willing to take him, his best friend Aban doesn't need him anymore and is already leagues ahead of him, the locker room and the audience think he's a joke and he needs to gain some credibility and respect again. Innocent like a puppy and asking with sincerity in his heart, he promises to be a valuable asset to Reyna and Kali if they just give him a chance to be useful to them, anything at all. Neither of them reply, but without being outright told no, this is still the best outcome for Naguib so far and he promises to prove his worth to them in the future.

A week later, as Kali got ready for her next match, she gets stopped by Naguib backstage and he once again goes on about his offer to help her and Reyna. Kali just kind of looks at him funny before walking down the curtain and into the arena. As Kali's fight goes on and continues to tire her out, she and her opponent are down and out. Seeing the opportunity of a lifetime, Naguib runs through the curtain and rushes toward ringside. As Kali gets laid down by a finisher and is about to be pinned and lose her match, Naguib pulls the referee away to prevent them from counting the pin, before dashing from the scene as fast as he could.

This gives Kali enough time to finally recover and land her own finisher, and she finally gets the win after a tough battle against a formidable opponent, thanks to the help of a Naguib run-in. After a confrontation and meetup backstage, Kali (who I should mention is a very no-nonsense, no jokes, battle ready and super stoic character) brings Naguib back to Reyna and with enthusiasm and a look of a proud 'I told you I'd be useful!' on his face, Reyna sighs and decides to give Naguib an honorary spot in their tiny group. What Reyna didn't know is that this guy who couldn't even seem to win over joke characters, would eventually spiral her mental health and magnify her distrust towards other people; which would eventually lead to her collapse and eventual reign as champion to be put in danger.

(While the above details his story and how he joined Reyna's team in the first place, Naguib's complete emotional arc with Reyna, Kali, and Aban can be found here. I will warn you though, it's a bit of a long read since it's an entire story and character arc. I promise it's really good though)

-------------------------------------------------

"Ah, why do I have Christmas shoes on? Aban gave them to me! It was the first time anyone ever gifted me something, and I've always wore them since then! Silly? I guess to some people, they'd think that, yeah. But it means a lot to me, and I'll never substitute looking better for his friendship and care. ... What's up with the markings? Oh, that's just face paint. I thought it'd make me look cool, ahahah."

"I am in the best group in the world! I'm standing side by side with two of the greatest wrestlers in the world - the silent killer; who never backs down from a fight: KAAAALIIII! And the greatest champion of our generati- no, actually. The greatest champion and wrestler in the history of any combat sport in the world, in the universe, in the multiverse! REEYYYNAAA! Was that cool? I definitely killed that, didn't I? Heheh..."

God, I love this guy. I think there's a certain challenge that comes when you're writing babyface and 'meant to be loved' characters where you need to make sure their purity and innocence doesn't become grating to the readers. You want to make sure that the actions that get them into trouble line up with their character, and they're not just causing problems for the sake of 'oops, sorry guys, I'm just naive! haha!'. I like to think I accomplished that with Naguib.

In any case, that's all from this one for now. This is a pretty lengthy post (that would've been even longer if I included Naguib's entire story arc in this post, lmfao) that I kind of just copied and pasted from my notes, but I wanted to show off just one more character from my silly wrestling world that I put a lot of effort into. Thanks for reading! Here, have a pic of the finale to Naguib and Reyna's storyline. A standoff between champion, and challenger just before a heated match.

(yes im aware the crowd looks stupid holding those light sticks i don't have a better one rn lol)

[caguaydreams]

I'm drawing these idiots

You know how Puppycat can be picked up as a blaster cannon of sorts? Yeah well-

Also I'm having trouble with his ridiculous cape jk it's a fabulous cape

Edit: added a pic

[gremlin4goro]

Okay then please do yakuza now :P

Yayyy, time to ramble! This post does contain some spoilers throughout the series but nothing too detailed, be wary.

the first character i ever fell in love with: Majima. The first scene where he appeared on Yakuza 0, that was the moment I fell in love with him. This dude just gives 0 fucks, and that's why he fucks. Also I like me some long-haired guys, always have.

a character that i used to love/like, but now do not: Nishiki is the first that comes to mind. In Y0 he was young, innocent lad, maybe a bit cocky but in a good way. YK1 did him dirty. That is not the man I knew, that's some nasty fuck that looks like Nishiki.

a ship that i used to love/like, but now do not: Majima/Sagawa. Not OTP but I read it quite a lot, mostly 'cause there was this one author who did it pretty well. But now that I've started re-playing Y0, I just can't look past just how much of a jerk he is to Majima.

my ultimate favorite character™: I think this one should be clear by now. Obviously it's Majima (this also includes Goromi).

prettiest character: Goromi, hands down. Seong-Hui deserves a mention. Oooh and Joon-Gi Han. Zhao's not pretty but he's very sexy in a slimy rat kinda way.

my most hated character: Shimano and sorta Sagawa as well because don't treat my baby boy (who's twice as old as me) like that!! Also Mirei could've been written into story sooo much better, she kinda felt, well not irrelevant but... very meh.

my OTP: Kazumaji.

my NOTP: Just like the last time I replied to this, I'll say anything involving Haruka. She's just a baby. Since she's older than Nanako I could give a pass to some cuddly fics with boy around her age but other than that, no. (I know she's older in later games but to me she'll always be a baby.)

favorite episode: Not appliciable so I'll say karaoke.

saddest death: Yakuza 3, where the young fella gets shot at the beach. Spoiler in case you didn't catch that: Rikiya. Oh yeah and Yakuza 7 ending!!!

favorite season game: Yakuza 0. My first game of the series and I just love it so much.

least favorite season game: I mean I do love them all but if I had to pick one I guess it'd be Y5? The plot is a mess and I didn't understand half of it even after my bf explained it to me.

character that everyone else in the fandom loves, but i hate: Again, not hate, but I never understood the hype around Daigo. To me he's just meh.

my ‘you’re piece of trash, but you’re still a fave’ fave: Majima! Literally piece of trash. To some extent Ichiban as well.

my ‘beautiful cinnamon roll who deserves better than this’ fave: Kaoru deserves bigger role in the games. I wanted to see more of her. Also Kiryu. His life's been a rollercoaster of shitstorms, just give him a rest will you?! Or at least a therapy session or ten.

my ‘this ship is wrong, nasty, and makes me want to cleanse my soul, but i still love it’ ship: Okay remember how I said Majima/Sagawa is gross? Slap in Nishitani and it gets so much better.

my ‘they’re kind of cute, and i lowkey ship them, but i’m not too invested’ ship: Majima/Saejima. I read it every now and then but never gotten around to create anything about it myself (yet). Also Kiryu/Kaoru and Majima/Makoto. I don't read that but I liked how those ships got presented in the games.

[magpiemorality]

sorry i'm giving you so many prompts but akldsfhjl “When you love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Especially then!” with intruality (if you want to of course)

AO3

Warnings: bit of angst & hurt/comfort, insecurity, cursing. This got a bit longer than planned!!

***

Remus was acting weird. Like, really weird. He’d been quiet and calm and utterly, bizarrely polite for going on three days now without fail, helping with the cooking, setting the table, wearing button down shirts… It was just wrong, wrong, wrong. 

And Patton was starting to get nervous. That morning when he’d got up for work Remus had been peacefully asleep beside him, sprawled out and snoring gently the way Patton secretly adored, and not so secretly adored teasing him about. He’d flicked the silver stripe in Remus’s hair to rouse him, bending to peck him on the cheek as always. But Remus had woken sharply and gasped when he’d seen the time, muttering about alarms and cursing under his breath, though he was being cagey about what for. He’d started running around the apartment and it was all Patton could do to stop him, trying to calm his wild partner. 

When Remus had sighed and started apologising Patton had finally realised that they Needed To Deal With This Now. 

He’d called in sick to work despite Remus’s protests and they now found themselves in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee to brew, Patton leaning against the cabinets with his arms folded and bottom lip sucked in so he could chew on it fretfully; Remus sat hunched over at the table, head in one hand and working very hard to ignore his partner. 

The machine whirred as it poured out the coffee and Patton added in the horrendous mint creamer that Remus liked- and actually hadn’t touched since this whole weird phase had started now he thought about it- and placed the mug in front of him on the table, sitting down kitty corner with his own. 

They sat in silence for a moment as Patton sipped his drink and tried to figure out where to start. Normally an oversharer of enormous magnitude; Remus had a bad habit of not letting people in. Patton had thought he’d firmly broken through a while ago but apparently not. 

“Are you gonna look at me at any point, doll, or are you gonna keep on ignoring me until I go away?” He murmured. It had the desired reaction; Remus’s head shot up and he looked at Patton in a panic. 

“Shit, Pats, I didn’t mean to make you feel ignored- that’s the last thing I wanted. Fuck, I mean, fudge, I mean… Sorry babe. Sorry.” He caught himself as he hung his head, looking up at Patton with those big brown eyes that had first melted his heart. 

Patton nodded, putting his mug down and shifting it around on the table to keep his hands occupied. “Accepted. But we gotta talk, Remus. I think you and I both know that you’ve been acting… different. And don’t get me wrong, I love all the attention, but most of it is just, it’s creepy Re! I don’t like it one bit! You’re tense and stressed and I don’t like it.” 

Remus winced. “It was meant to impress you.” 

“Impress me?!” Patton laughed, reaching out to take Remus’s hand in his own. “It left an impression. I was seriously considering the possibility that you’d been replaced by a pod person, doll.”

“That would be fun,” Remus admitted, relaxing a bit in his chair. “But no.”

“So then what the hell happened to you?! I’m going nuts here, help a fella out!” Patton beseeched him, trying to lift the tone with a little smile and squeeze of his fingers. Remus continued to look mostly miserable, but there was a lightness to his face that Patton had missed, returning slowly but surely. 

“I wanted to be a better partner to you. It’s not fair you have to put up with me all the time when you could have someone normal and sane and someone who doesn’t make you look after them all the time and who wears adult clothes and is just…” 

“More mature?” Patton guessed, suspicions confirmed by Remus’s nod. “Right. Well fuck that, for starters.” Remus jerked in surprise. Swearing from Patton was a Big Deal. “I know what I said and I meant it. I’ll say it again if I have to.” 

“I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed-” 

Patton huffed and rolled his eyes, scolding him with the utmost fondness. “Concentrate, dollface, save the flirting for after we’ve got you back to normal. Now I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay?” Remus nodded, shuffling closer on the edge of his chair. Good. “I love you exactly as you are. In fact, if I might be so bold, I love you because of how you are. You are perfect to me. You hear that?” 

Remus was hanging onto every word, drinking it up like a drowning man, but he apparently couldn’t resist the impulse to interrupt one last time. “But your parents babe, they think I’m just a freeloader! They’re just waiting for you to move on from your rebel phase! A-and your friends never liked me, I could tell- they always said how crazy you were to end up settling for me.” Patton snorted loud enough to make Remus jump again, the sound dripping with derision. 

“When you love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Especially then! I thought you of all people would know that. You went and shacked up with Mr. Vanilla Homebody, didn’t you? And don’t try and tell me your friends didn’t say exactly the same thing to start with, because I know and love Dee but he was far from my biggest fan when we met.”

Remus sniffed, but he also shrugged, and Patton marked that down as a win. 

“Okay but, we’re in our thirties now. Shouldn’t I be acting a bit more my age anyway?”

“You mean you don’t love pillow fort Sundays? Getting new lego sets for Christmas and birthdays and just because? The plushie shelf? Because let me remind you, Mr King; I am just as invested in those things as you are. And I know you’d never ask me to change, right?” It was a dirty tactic but hey, it worked. Remus crumbled like a gravel wall and flung his arms around Patton despite the awkward angle, hugging him tightly. 

It lasted a long while, and the coffee was starting to cool when they sat back in their respective chairs and smiled softly at each other. Patton couldn’t bring himself to care one bit, because Remus looked miles better and they still had most of the day left to hang out together with zero obligations. 

Remus’s smile turned to a big grin. “So, you wanna build a pillow fort to make out in while we put The Incredibles on in the background? And then donate every single one of those awful shirts to goodwill?” He held out his mug hopefully. 

Patton clinked it with his own. “I’d love nothing less.” 

[vaguely-concerned]

SO I DID GET TO SEE GOOD OMENS AND TL;DR IT WAS EXCELLENT, I AM EUPHORIC

more thoughts and spoilers under the cut!

the FUCK YEEEEEEEAAAAAHs:

- mr gaiman you did it you made it even gayer I never even believed it was possible what is this 6000 years pining slowburn nonsense 

*ahem* to be more serious about it I loved that the show takes the emotional throughlines from the book and somehow both heightens and deepens them. 

- it really is phenomenally faithful to the book and the stuff it adds is mostly a m a z i n g. it kept me perfectly engaged despite me knowing what like 75% of the dialogue was going to be

- david tennant doesn’t quite go for the same energy as how I imagine crowley in the book -- in my head he’s more... idk how to explain it but the vibe is more someone grinning a bright fixed ‘this is totally my suave face’ grin while clearly continually going ‘oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck’ internally haha, to me he’s slightly less... mercurial? trying to play his cards closer to the chest? but you know what show!crowley is fucking hilarious too and I do like what they’ve done with him being less of an optimist at the core and more enjoying the world through his connection with aziraphale -- the sense of underlying loneliness you get in some places in the book has really been dialed up, he just wants a friend :( (which incidentally seems to be part of the reason he fe -- sauntered vaguely downwards too; he mostly wanted to hang out with someone, and today he still doesn’t really fit in with either the angels or the demons) 

- I can’t believe they managed to capture the feeling of ‘Under the ash and soot that flaked his face, he looked very tired, and very pale, and very scared’ on screen; it’s one of the moments of the book that really stuck with me and it worked so well here too, especially since the fallout of the situation stays with him longer

- this version of aziraphale is just. so lovely. so so good, literal precious angel who almost got his head cut off for crepes, I totally see why crowley persevered through the ages and his own intimacy issues, good call my friend. thank you michael sheen, every time this character showed up on screen I was filled with joy and delight

- I’m completely undone by how incredibly mutual their friendship is in this -- despite crowley being the more active in asking for connection it’s obvious all the way through how much aziraphale genuinely adores him and enjoys his company (even though he knows he shouldn’t and so continually needs to give himself some plausible deniability)

when aziraphale’s voice breaks as he’s like ‘don’t go’ after they’ve argued in the park and he’s just tried to pretend they’re not even friends? hahahahahahaha ouch my fucking heart

- sister mary loquacious was the most endearing thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life, give that actress all the roles she’s got the charisma of the gods

- “not only a southern pansy, sergeant -- the southern pansy” got through and it was glorious (ditto shadwell’s naming schemes, I for sure thought that wouldn’t be mentioned but it’s so incredibly funny)

- crowley repeatedly and openly just... begging aziraphale to go off to the stars with him what the fick-freckedy-fuck

- Of the horsemen Pollution was my absolute fave (so cool and unsettling and nonbinary rep!!!!!!! also they feel like the youngest horseman in such a deep way, every credit to the actress that was great) and I really enjoyed the twist on Famine, making him seem more intense and hungry himself as part of his nature as opposed to in the book where he’s basically like... diet vetinari lol

- G A B R I E L  he was so perfectly awful... absolutely no redeeming features whatsoever he’s just a piece of shit all the way through and John Hamm was clearly having the time of his life with it and I too was living 

- crowley crying in the bar because he lost his best friend and there’s no point to even try to run away anymore if he’s alone, he’s just waiting for the end of the world ;____________________________________________________; what an addition, such a thoughtful way to steer his character arc, wonderful, spectacular

in the book it’s more about him finding his way through the fear and desperation and having lost everything back to his core ‘actually... fuck this there’s no situation I can’t snake my way out of let’s goooooooooo’ self, which is admittedly really cool and satisfying, but it feels like a shallower thing than finally reaching a point where he can no longer pretend he doesn’t care or doesn’t want things. (also... the way his will to live reignites the moment aziraphale needs him fjskadlfhaskdhfksldhfslkahdf “I’ll come find you” INDEED fjksdafhsdlfhsdalfh) 

- also a nice tiny change: the implication that reason he can drive the bentley through the flames is that he loves that car so fucking much, he’s invested so much of himself and his emotions in it over many years, like a sort of microcosm of how he feels about the actual world (and specifically humanity’s presence in it) that produced it

- the child actors were uniformly precious, and the kid who played adam got me right in the feelings. the sort of comedic sociopathy of kids thing going on in the book is downplayed, which means I was feeling all the more protective of this sweet sweet kid who just loves his dog and his friends and fjsdfklasjkh

- *sigh* my embarrassing crush on david tennant has been lying dormant these last few years, simply waiting for its chance to rise from the depths like a kraken yet again, and I am slightly unsettled that what really made it surface this time was him dressed up as evil Mary Poppins + the bathing suit, socks included. ah well the heart uh wants what it wants I guess 

- crowley is awfully quick to suggest child murder for someone who’s blatantly not willing to harm a hair on a kid’s head himself lawl the two of them just juggling the ‘but maybe you could like... quickly murder him so we could avoid all this???’ ball back and forth before madame tracy finally knocks some sense into them 

- the actress for madame tracy did such an amazing job that I literally forgot aziraphale wasn’t actually possessing her, ART

- fellas... is it gay to blow up a bunch of nazis for your ~*best friend*~ and save his books while actualfax romantic music swells in the background... asking for a friend 

- “anywhere you want to go” :):):):) oh no

- to be Sad at you for a second here... why the fuck did aziraphale immediately assume crowley wanted the holy water to use it on himself? is there like. a story here we don’t know. is this the fallout of going to check wtf the spanish inquisition was all about. I’m almost afraid to ask

- to be even Sadder: that ‘For Terry’ made me cry and I’m not ashamed to admit it

the awwww... okay I guess you can’t have EVERYTHINGs:

- the scene where crowley and aziraphale get wasted together after the antichrist is delivered is not quite as funny as it is in my head, but then I don’t think anything in the physical world could be as funny as the way I imagine them just like somberly leaning over the table at each other with little regard for personal space and drunkenly expounding on dolphins, so I’ll forgive it

- CGI satan was completely unnecessary and not even very well designed *shrug emoji* the whole point of that scene is that we never get to see him, just the mounting dread as he’s getting closer, and then the wordless reveal of who Adam considers to be his dad and that’s all that matters and even the devil is powerless against it... loved the ~*godfathers*~ giving a little literal angel/devil on my shoulder pep talk, tho, that was incredibly sweet

- ...the maggots huh neil. couldn’t leave them out huh. what a world it would be if we didn’t get to see a bunch of people get eaten by a writhing roomful of maggots huh. 

- ETA: actually one more: I refuse to accept this version of DEATH, hashtag not my reaper

[norcumii]

Reblogged from the prior tumbl, originally posted 02/04/2016. Question submitted by @makiruz. Slightly reformatted to avoid a readmore cut and whatnot.

In Full of Sith, they always ask new guests how they got into Star Wars. And you know? That's a good question, how did you got into Star Wars?

HEH. Oooh, that’s a bit of a loaded question. So I’ll give you the short answer, which I suspect would fit the thing you mentioned what I haven’t heard of; and then because I’m a wordy bastard what overshares, the long answer which is more accurate and has content warnings for self harm and suicide.

SHORT ANSWER

It was the 80’s. I was young, in single digits, though I couldn’t tell you exactly what age. I was already dealing with an irregular sleep cycle, though all I knew was I had a flashlight, a pile of books near/on my bed, and a thick pound puppies duvet to read under.

I don’t know if I was in my room or on my way to/from the bathroom, but I could hear my parents watching something downstairs. Swooshy noises, a shrill screee, and some thwoom bzzts.

Of course I went downstairs.

I don’t know if it was episode 5 or 6. I’ve a fondness for 6, but carbonite left a HUGE fucking impression on me, and my parents have always approved of muppets, so Yoda.

I knew I loved it. I didn’t have any toys, though I think somewhere there was a print edition of A New Hope running around. I do recall multiple sleepovers at my grandmother’s place – a tiny house on acres and acres of woods – and she’d sometimes pull out Return of the Jedi and we’d watch it together on her tiny TV. Later on I’d be in bed, staring out at woods and trees that I knew, but seemed huge to a little kid, and I’d dream of Ewoks.

RotJ was Gram’s favorite, and for many years mine, too.

I like Ewoks.

VERY LONG ANSWER

TW: mental illness, depression, self harm, suicide, abuse

In late elementary, early middle school, my brother and I were basically reading ANYTHING we could get our hands on. He sometimes dove into books that didn’t interest me, so I’d read the first of something and then be bored and he’d keep going.

Star Wars EU was one of those. It was too grim for me. I think I didn’t run into any of the really good writers. It was all Han and Luke and Leia on the covers, so take that for what you will. There also was no Wookiepeia, so I was depending heavily on the writers’ abilities to convey things to someone very visual, yet pretty impatient with descriptions, so it never took.

I was in high school when The Phantom Menace came out. Mine honorable brother was off at college, so it was with great excitement on my part, and bemused tolerance on my parents’, that they and I went off to the theater.

On the one hand, I was dazzled.

On the other, there was Jar Jar. There was the fact that I hadn’t been impressed with the re-release of the OT – Han shot first. FITE ME. There was the fact that TPM didn’t feel like Star Wars, which was darker and grittier and…simpler to me.

So I wrote it off. Packed Star Wars away as “one of those things” that I’d been into, but felt like I was moving past. I was obsessed with Gargoyles, I was looking at going to college, and I would keep m’damn ewoks without needing to try to extend that vision with gungans.

College sucked. I went in, not sure if I wanted to go into English, for writing, or Psych, because I had always been what I’d now call The Mom Friend. I met a nice guy who tried, but things never really clicked between us, and there was an interesting bit that he was mad about Star Wars and insisted that I read the Rogue Squadron books.

That was a Good Decision. Dating him, not so much.

I had a huge assortment of Life Issues. Got into an abusive relationship that would end up lasting 14 years. Transferred schools. Got the fucking Psych degree, though literally only by the grace of a professor who didn’t want to see the kid not graduate just ‘cause she couldn’t numbers and I did go in and try. Talked to him and still couldn’t with the maths but the effort was there to bump me a few points above failing.

I was burnt out. I was depressed. I tried killing myself a few times – not very good at it, as you can see. Took up self-harm as a coping mechanism. Failed in the still never successful search for a decent therapist in Pittsburgh. Got a job slinging food, because needed some kind of income, and people without pressure was nice. The keeping on a schedule thing failed, leading to an average of 4 hours sleep a night. Losing contact with family and friends because I couldn’t stand the pressure of “how are you?” and “what’s going on in your life?” Clinging to Warcraft because repetitively farming was better than clawing open my back or neck again, and the people there were ok with some rando dropping out of sight on a dime, and only a persistent few had the grace and spirit to make it past some serious defensive issues of mine.

I stopped writing. Stopped caring about Gargoyles, stopped being able to see into that AU I’d made for myself of a crazy clan and the weird human who survived cancer with them.

Stopped going on IM, for the same reasons I stopped talking to people.

I still kept track of some folks via LiveJournal. A handful of the Gargoyles folks who were determined, gods know why and thank you, since I know several are here on the tumbles and I genuinely love you to bits.

I quit my job after five years, because enough was enough between the fact that it had all the hallmarks of an abusive relationship and I was fucking tired of being a manager without any actual authority, and the endless hamster wheel of hiring and people quitting because it was a nice, but highly dysfunctional place.

I missed the customers, though. Several of them are here too, and it’s kinda funny ‘cause I know in at least one case I talked to them about Star Wars. I still hope they’re not too shellshocked that I kinda went down the rabbit hole pretty deep.

Started getting more sleep. Not less anxiety, not less depressed. Tried out a few depression medications, with very mixed results.

Then one day @dogmatix came into the LJ area I still hung out in. Enthusiastically recommending to all and sundry that if there is even a shred of interest in Star Wars, THERE IS THIS THING YOU SHOULD READ.

She drew a Wookiee. That was a character?

I’d always liked Wookiees.

And I needed something to read.

Star Wars was one of those things, from back in the day before things went to shit. Low investment, since if I didn’t like it or didn’t care, then eh. Whatevs.  Dogmatix was one of the Gargs holdouts still in my circle (or whatever it is that I was hovering at the edges of), and in the past I’d liked her recommendations more often than I disliked them.

I’m also endlessly weak to her art.

Wookiee.

So I did that thing. That so many of us here have done. It took me about 2 weeks to get through Re-Entry. It had trouble taking root in the depression, but Obi-Wan going crackers was something I could empathize with and appreciate.

There was the hope that had been missing from the EU novels I’d tried reading back in the day.

There was Wookieepedia, which meant I could stop and see what a Nautolan was. I had tabs open for DAYS so when someone named Adi or Gallia who were apparently the same person? I could see who that was. I got stupidly distressed that Abella didn’t have an entry, until I twigged and checked for a Chitanook, and holy shit I could never tell what character was going to crop up as canon, obscure EU character, or home brewed.

I honestly expected to set it aside, get updates as they happened, and gradually step away because that’s how things were going at the time.

But I still needed something to read, to stave off empty hours when my brain was too full of screaming.

On Ebon Wings. I’d loved The Crow when I’d seen it back in high school, and that story tapped into the powerful visuals and the lovely message I’d adored and in ways I still don’t quite understand it somehow validated that I could be mad and still be ok. Maybe. Maybe not now, but someday.

Maybe.

So I gave in and got a Tumbl. I’d been a stubborn holdout, regularly checking the same half dozen feeds daily because dammit, I don’t wanna go through the trouble and I was close to giving up on LJ and another journaly thing? That was stupid. But I wanted to follow Flamethrower and Dogmatix, and it made it infinitely easier to follow several blogs (and oh GODS one of those is a mutual and holy fuck I swear I screamed the day that happened and it’s still a high to realize).

Dogmatix wrote Möbius and Accidental Timeshare, wherein Venge goes universe hopping. That’s also a weakness of mine.

I’d been kvetching IRL about the treadmill and wanting something to watch, and someone mentioned in Dogmatix’s feed The Clone Wars – which conveniently was on Netflix. So I figured what the hell. I was disinclined to like clones – ‘cause yeesh, they’re the reason the Jedi all died, and yeah, ok, the Order was SERIOUSLY FUCKED UP, but.

I still had never seen Episodes 2 or 3.

I turned on the Clone Wars movie, and within ten minutes I nearly fell off the back of the treadmill due to crying.

THIS was the Star Wars of my youth. THIS was what I remembered. A little grim. Lots of quips.

That sound. Lightsabers igniting. A-wings rumbling overhead. Blasterfire, and that music.

I had to stop and calm down and for the first time in ages WRITE [, because I just had to ramble about how it all hit me in the feels]. I had no idea I’d missed this.

By the end of the movie I’d decided ok, I wanted more. Wasn’t sold on these clone fellas, and damned if I could tell one set of armor from another (this is ALSO due to the treadmill screen being calibrated to be a compromise of a very short person – me – and a very tall person, which means neither person gets a decent view but that’s not what the treadmill tv is for).

I’d been told there was an order to the episodes, but I didn’t care. Continuity is for those who think about the future, and I was still regularly suicidal.

So the first episode I watched was Yoda romping around a planet, playing with droids while three clone troopers tried to babysit his mad little ass.

They had me, all in one episode. I loved these guys. They had individuality, I could tell them apart by the voices (which is sometimes just as important to me as visuals) even if I couldn’t name them, and the personalities –

They were loyal. Their primary concern was old batty Yoda which I had adored as a child because MUPPETS. They were willing to die to keep him safe and there was this lovely reciprocity in taking care of each other and all of them, clones and Jedi alike were doomed to extinction and I don’t think I knew yet HOW the clones were except they weren’t in the OT so there was shit going down.

Tragic figures, loyal found family, incredible voice acting, Batty Old Yoda who OH YEAH FUCKING KICKED SO MUCH ASS I COULD NEVER GET ENOUGH.

I wanted to keep those three clones. I was willing to keep them all.

Final blow, that knocked me into the fandom so hard I’ll be surprised if I ever leave?

THIS.

The origins of Balance. This is the post that started a simple notion, to try to write something when I’d gone….anywhere from 7 to 10 years of not writing A SINGLE. DAMNED. THING of substance – and that was after thinking I might try to get a degree related to it.

Darth Wraith was a tentative idea. I was scared @deadcatwithaflamethrower would be irked I wanted to play in her sandbox (oh my gods I was inserting myself into a conversation with her this amazing person who wrote blindingly well and so damn much and how the FUCK was I daring to speak up about a silly half DREAM I’d had because once again I couldn’t sleep).

Then, because I was trying to break out of the depression, the cycles of mental ill health, and if I was on this tumbls thing, fuck it, I’d try the IM thing again.

I’d been gone long enough that pretty much no one on my contact list was still there. That…was ok. There wasn’t the pressure.

And Dogmatix popped on, asking if I wanted to share details about this Sith Qui-Gon thing.

I had A SCENE. ONE. SCENE. And she was spinning it off into this EPIC, which at first I was gleeful because she had neat ideas and I couldn’t wait to see what she would do with it and then wait, she’s not talking about writing it herself, this is more about something WE could work on.

Thank gods it was IM, because I had a little panic about commitment to a project when I regularly was sure I wasn’t going to see tomorrow and if I didn’t wake up one morning that’d be MORE than ok.

Still. There was that itch. The visuals in my brain. The characters I’d started to like in Flamethrower’s universe, which had formed my mental voices for them.

The only sound in my head for so long was just screaming.

Writing down that scene in Knock On Effect, where Venge meets Wraith – that felt good. It never changed much from the first draft to what was posted. The rest grew, and quickly. It was clear if we were doing this, then there were multiple stories, spanning in universe years.

And then there were spinoffs. Wonderful ideas and plots spiraling away from this one notion, and gods I wanted to write about those glorious clones.

How’d I get into Star Wars?

Chance. One strange little step at a time, and a bunch of miracles and horrors that kept me bleeding but not dying. Damn good fic. The kindness of friends. The generosity of strangers.

The tragedy of a once great order of space monks, and their allies-forced-to-be-betrayers clones.

One little picture, of Qui-Gon Jinn with Sith eyes.

[insanityclause]

“I’m a meat and two veg kinda fella,” says Kenneth Branagh. “I love my fish and chips, and my English breakfast, and I like my football and horse racing – my dad loved the horses.” His tastes, he admits, such as his signature dessert recipe for melted Mars bar over vanilla ice cream, were formed in his working-class childhood.

For the past four decades, this son of a joiner from Belfast has been living cheek by jowl with that other great scion of the lower classes – William Shakespeare. Ever since Branagh became a stage and film star playing Henry V in the Eighties, he’s been directing Shakespeare’s works, adapting them, playing many of his great characters. Now, at 58, he is assuming the bald pate, sharp nose and very pointed beard of the playwright himself, in the self-directed All Is True.

It’s an unexpectedly moving portrait. Branagh’s Will is entering his 50s, and retiring from London to Stratford-upon-Avon, where he had long owned a house, and where at 18, he had married Anne Hathaway, a 26-year-old already pregnant with their child. It’s 1613, the Globe Theatre has burned down, and the playwright is still grieving the death of his only son, Hamnet, many years earlier.

“For me, it was a sort of time travel,” says Branagh, whose enduring boyishness hides the fact that he is eight years older than the Shakespeare we meet in the film. (The playwright died in 1616, at the age of 52.) Branagh’s Shakespeare is stiff of bearing; Branagh isn’t. He’s playful while having his photograph taken in the London hotel where we meet, and his comfortable clothes – knitwear – mirror a softness in his tone and manner. It masks a seriousness that shows itself often when he speaks.

After all these years exploring Shakespeare’s work, does the think he has a feel for the man? “I have a sense of preoccupations that repeat themselves,” he says. “They came together when I played Leontes in The Winter’s Tale a couple of years ago, because it did feel like a play from a man at the end of his professional life, maybe in the evening of his life – there was such a longing in it for this lost child, such an ache for the reunification of a family, that it seemed to add up with all sorts of longings in the plays, even in the comedies.”

The grief for Hamnet in All Is True is so acute that, set against the way Will yearns for a male heir, and his complicated relationship with his daughters, Susanna and Judith (Hamnet’s twin), it makes you wonder whether Branagh has been contemplating his own mortality. Does he wish that he had had children?

“Didn’t happen,” he shrugs. “It doesn’t seem to me to be valuable to be wishing and hoping for things that don’t appear to have been on your dance card. I go with what we have. I start with, are you healthy, do you have some family, do you have some friends? Anything north of that’s terrific.”

Since 2003, Branagh has been married to art director Lindsay Brunnock. Before that, of course, he was married to Emma Thompson – a celebrity coupling that was so ubiquitous between 1989 and 1994 that they were referred to simply as “Ken and Em”. They acted in a series of Branagh’s films together, such as the history-repeats-itself thriller Dead Again (1991), the rather precious paean to privilege, Peter’s Friends (1992), and a very winning Much Ado About Nothing (1993), before the partnership ended with Branagh’s affair with Helena Bonham Carter. Does he think he and Thompson will ever work together again? “I don’t know,” he says. Would he like to? “She’s a terrific talent, so who knows?”

Branagh is clearly not keen to talk about his personal life, however much of it is already in the public arena. Yet so little is known of Shakespeare’s life that All Is True must make a series of guesses to fill the void. (The script is written by Ben Elton, who has already treated the subject as comedy in Upstart Crow.) But the element most likely to raise eyebrows is the casting of Judi Dench as Hathaway. Dench is 84. It’s very unusual to cast a woman 26 years older than her leading man, isn’t it? “Is she 26 years [older]?” says Branagh, surprised. “Really?” I nod – does he think audiences will balk at that?

“I don’t think so. I was aware that for the past 100 years of cinema that age gap has usually been the other way round. If it felt it was going to kill the story, I would have been terrified; for some maybe it will, but for me, not at all. She’s unique and to have that chance with one of the greatest living actors, the age thing didn’t come into it.”

Is it an example of “age-blind casting”? “Yeah, I guess so. She was the right person for the role.” The film seems to suggest that Hathaway and Shakespeare reunite sexually, too. I wonder if, as a director, he considered having a physical scene between them? “No, it didn’t seem appropriate for this. I wouldn’t have balked at it if it had seemed right, very much not.”

He also shares a seven-minute scene with Ian McKellen, who plays the Earl of Southampton, to whom Shakespeare famously dedicated two poems. It evolves into a duel between heavyweight Shakespeareans when both recite Sonnet 29 (“When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes”). “I practised for that scene as I’ve never practised before,” Branagh admits, explaining that he went to see McKellen perform as Lear last year, and rehearsed with him backstage. “I found that pretty intimidating… You’ve got to be up pretty early in the morning to keep up with Dench, but with him…”

It’s one of the pivotal moments of the film, which clearly suggests that the Bard was in love with a man. Is that an unavoidable conclusion from the Sonnets, four-fifths of which are addressed to a “fair youth”? “I think it’s certainly unavoidable not to consider it very strongly,” Branagh says. Is there room for doubt that Shakespeare preferred men? He laughs. He’s weighing his words carefully. “I think it’s a strong possibility.”

Branagh does this a lot, studiedly avoiding sound-bites. Asked if he believes Shakespeare was indeed the author of the plays, he decides: “The other theories are brilliant speculations, but there has been no winning piece of evidence. In the current state of knowledge, I would follow the man from Stratford.”

Branagh’s family moved from Belfast to Reading to escape the Troubles when he was nine. As a boy from the sticks, who arrived at Rada in the late Seventies, then went on to act, direct and try his hand as a playwright, had he wanted to actually be Shakespeare?

It’s impossible to imagine it, he says. He just felt “so at home and happy telling stories in the theatre to a live audience, the itinerant nature of it. Those that were ahead of me – whether it was Shakespeare or actors of the past or directors – I was inspired by them.”

Branagh’s career began in a blaze of glory. But while his stage reputation continued to grow, in film at least there was a mid-period lull. His Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (1995) was panned; his run of big-screen Shakespeare adaptations stuttered with the widely derided song-and-dance version of Love’s Labour’s Lost (2000), and even when he returned with a striking As You Like It (2006) set in 19th-century Japan, around the same time as The Magic Flute (2006) and Sleuth (2007), all three “received a pretty rough time”, he says. Yet he’s sanguine about criticism. “Sometimes people don’t like ’em. It’s as simple as that. I put the same feeling into all of them.”

He has always had a phenomenal approach to work that seems to border on mania. Since he was 29, he has been using meditation to ensure that he doesn’t yo-yo between frantic activity – “I wouldn’t characterise it as manic, but I would say, yes, extremely hectic at times” – and its corresponding depressive state.

“I knew I had to work quite hard at all those things that would try to allow you some peace amid the noise and haste. I like to read about spiritual matters and I’ve developed the meditation since then to try to find the way to turn down the noise. When the engine’s revving really high, I think you have to be careful.”

A decade ago, Branagh made the decision to leave the West End production of Hamlet he had been about to direct, starring Jude Law, to take up the reins of Thor (2011) for Marvel. It was a change of direction that opened the door to a new phase in his career, as a director of blockbuster movies. He won’t accept the charge that comic-book films have killed grown-up cinema – “Well I’ve just made a grown-up film, I’d say” – and mounts a strong defence.

“In the best hands you get stories that involve spectacle and, in some cases, depth or wit or creative imagination that allows for a really cinematic experience, they provide stories that make you want to go to the pictures. They ain’t killing grown-up movies.”

His hit 2015 Cinderella, starring Lily James and Richard Madden, will be followed this summer by a lavish Disney adaptation of Artemis Fowl, Eoin Colfer’s 2001 novel about a boy genius who discovers the fairy world beneath our feet. Blockbusters bring their own set of pressures. Does he fear that if Artemis Fowl bombs, that avenue closes? “No, it doesn’t feel that way, although perhaps it is that way,” Branagh says. “I think if it felt like that it would be quite hard to do the work, but I’ve certainly been in situations where if a movie doesn’t work you’re really aware of the cold winds that blow around you for a while. It’s a commercial business and these are big investments.”

What would he do if an invitation to take on the Bond franchise came his way? “I have absolutely no idea,” he says. “I have Artemis Fowl to finish and I hope we get to make Death on the Nile [the second of his Agatha Christie adaptations, after Murder on the Orient Express, in which he stars as Poirot] towards the end of the year. Ask me the Bond question a picture or so from now.” He leans back.

“I should be so lucky.”

There will be a preview screening of 'All is True' followed by a Q&A with Kenneth Branagh at VUE cinema in Leicester Square on Wednesday 6th February, from 6.30pm.

Tickets are £20 for non-subscribers and £10 for subscribers.

[koganphrancis]

New Episode, New Ian

What they showed:

What we all thought of:

and that made the ending of last night’s episode fraught with emotion (as did Cam’s acting), and I was sort of freaked out by events until about an hour after the show when I saw the full scene in the church from the next episode-and now I’m back to thinking Shameless is just continuing their same old bullshit.  

Weekly warning: There will be spoilers under the cut, even one for The Walking Dead so if you haven’t seen last week’s mid-season finale of that show-you have been warned.

Another brand new writer this week-I wasn’t impressed.  Last week’s seemed ignorant about sexual orientation, this week’s seems just as uninformed about addiction (and maybe medications to treat bipolar disorder).  

I’ll try to dispense with the other storylines as quickly as possible.  The Kev and Vee stuff doesn’t interest me or amuse me in the least-it’s not my cup of tea anyway, but of course it’s not being well-written and that hurts its chances even more.  This week we saw the twins for a second, but no Yev and no Svetlana.  I guess the thrupple is over again already?

Carl is a waste of screen time this year, in my opinion.  The new love interest is a weird, bitchy sort who screams about the living hell of her teen life-which includes SAT prep, tennis camp, and cruising the Greek islands on “P Diddy’s” yacht.  You’re trying too hard, Shameless, we’d hate this teen bride to be without all the whining.  

Oh, we also find out Carl is also 16 this week-so, either Debbie’s twin or another set of (heretofore unmentioned) Irish twins.  

Frank is a total waste of time too, except one interesting line-he tells a stranger in line at a job fair he has “five kids”, so I guess he really doesn’t count Ian as his own.  

It’s Liam’s last day of school?  But Carl’s just weeks away from going back to school?  I know the time line has never made sense, but wtf?  

Also Fiona flat out states she’s 28 in this episode-what’s with the new writers establishing ages all of the sudden?

Debbie should’ve gotten fired in her first scene at work, but doesn’t, but self-sabotages the job later (in typically “hilarious” aka unfunny Shameless fashion), and from an Emmy tweet I guess the audience is supposed to think she stood up for herself but all I could think was, “Good luck getting another job where they let you bring your baby to work in a pet carrier.”  Of course Debbie IS a Gallagher and this IS Shameless, so by next week she’ll probably have some high paying steady job with in-house daycare and a retirement plan...

Snore got to have a couple of lines this week-setting up her still in the future storyline.  Lip asks her if she’s ok when she seems distracted/down in the dumps/who tf knows what she was going for, and she answers, “Sorry, just stuff.”  Lip says, “You wanna talk about it?” and she says, “Naw, it’s fucked up.”  Ian will have a similarly cryptic scene at the end of the show-suddenly they want us to think storylines continue from week to week?  

We meet Fiona’s new fella-the only thing remotely interesting about him is his Irish accent.  Nessa’s got her weekly “I’m never at work, I’m always free to hang with Fiona” scene too, in which Fiona says Ian has a “history of psycho behavior” so fuck you, New Writer.  (Fiona also has a history-of child endangerment and neglect-so she should put those stones away while she’s living in that glass house.)  

Lip had another week where I just can’t invest in what he’s got going on.  Why is Lip, the alcoholic adult child of an alcoholic so disillusioned and shocked by Youens’ downfall?  Why are they writing him so naive?  Lip is supposed to be smart, plus he’s watched Frank his entire life-we’re supposed to believe that he was gobsmacked by Youens getting drunk during an hour break at the courthouse?  Wouldn’t that be Frank to a T?  You remember Lip’s dad, don’t you?  The guy who when he couldn’t get booze down this throat used an eye dropper to get alcohol into his blood stream thru his eyes?  They have Brad say to Lip that with Youens’ record, if it was anyone else, Lip would say he belongs in jail after his fifth DUI-which rings true.  If it were Frank in the same position, Lip would be testifying against him!  Anyway, the big farewell scene at the prison, the writer to me showed little to zero sympathy (or maybe even awareness?) that alcoholism is a disease.  Instead of giving Youens a speech like Ian got to keep his EMT job, Youens tells Lip he’s “a drunk”.  Don’t any of these people watch Mom on CBS?  And I’m not being flippant-my uncle (my mother’s brother) was an alcoholic and I don’t think he had a drink during my entire lifetime (he was working on his sobriety by the time I was born), but I know he did struggle every day, he wanted a drink every day of his life.  The show keeps acting like there’s just some magic hump Lip needs to get over and then he won’t want/need to drink and it just doesn’t work that way.  That’s why the program says “one day at a time”-Lip can’t keep waiting for some magic moment one day down the road where he’ll be “cured” and never want another drink.  Lip did his 28 days, he’s been going to meetings, he should know this.  The writers definitely should know it, but they don’t treat alcoholism like a disease at all-I don’t get it and I don’t think the storyline is great.  Lip hasn’t seemed to learn anything from any of the father figures in his life.  Also?  I strongly suspect that now that Youens is “put away” and Brad’s too overwhelmed to be a sponsor,  they’ll show Lip searching for a new sponsor next week, but after that he’s going to be Snore’s rock when Terry-oops, I mean her father-gets out of prison and all of Lip’s drinking issues WILL have magically been handled to free him up to be her hero.

Now on to the only reason I keep watching this mess of a show.  When we first see Ian this week, it’s in a very OOC scene of him throwing not one but two buckets of icy water on Fiona in bed.  Really?  You expect me to invoke a suspension of disbelief so strong that it believes that A: Ian would ever do such a thing, and B: (since we find out he’s been doing it for a week) that Fiona’s mattress isn’t completely ruined?  Fuck you, Shameless.  And between “joking” about killing her and now this act of aggression, I’m really getting sick of how they’re writing Ian-he’s never been like that.  

Speaking of character traits-next we see Jerome spelling out MANIAX on the sidewa...Oops, sorry, Ian’s egging Fiona’s building and writing out his explanation of where “Cuntlord” came from as a mash up on the sidewalk in spraypaint.  He’s also got the kids from the shelter with him and they’re setting up a tent city on the conveniently empty lot next to Fi’s apartments.  Terror is...there.  Standing there.  Being useless.  Ian gets in Fiona’s face, says he wants her to “smell their shit”-oh, Shameless, you’re making it too easy-the whole show smells like shit.  Terror tries to tell Ian it sounds like a family issue, that Ian shouldn’t be using “Terror’s kids” (I cringe every time he shouts “my kids” at Ian).  Ian’s got a bullhorn, they chant some obscenities (as if Fiona’s tenants and other people in the neighborhood wouldn’t call the cops about THAT)...you can just see the wheels turning, that Shameless is trying to be shameless again, but it ain’t working.  Anyway, Terror stands there trying to look worried (it comes off more as constipated) as Ian marches off around the building with the kids.  If we’re supposed to think he’s like Mickey worrying about Ian as he was losing control, it’s not working.  

As soon as Ian leaves for work, Fiona buys all the kids off with free pizza and twenty bucks-and even the girl crushing on Ian has her price and is the last to leave.  I bet that’s the last we’ll see of the “kids”.  Fiona also pulls a totally cunty move and has all the kids’ stuff removed by a clean up crew.  It would’ve killed them to write a line where she says, “Bring it back to the Youth Center but tell someone in charge there that if they set up again, I’m throwing it out.”?  

When Ian gets back to the lot after work, he and Terror are looking on the scene and they start to pick up some stuff Fiona’s crew missed.  Fi is trying to talk to Ian, to apologize and put it behind them, but Ian’s ignoring her.  She says that Margo has another building and that she’s willing to lease it and waive the first and last month’s rent deposit, Ian says they’re not interested in charity.  Terror speaks up and Ian barks at him, and then Fiona asks Ian if he’s off his meds.  That only makes Ian madder, but she tries again, asks, “are you taking them?”  Ian is livid now, he informs Fiona that yes, he is taking them and that he’s “fucking angry” and is she going to suspect he’s off his meds for the rest of his life when he gets angry and that he’s allowed to be “angry at bitch assholes when they’re being fucking bitch assholes,” and then he stomps off, obviously upset and hurting and Terror stays with Fi just like he stayed with Monica when Ian was hurt and upset by her-because Terror never validates Ian’s feelings and is TOXIC.  Fi doesn’t go after Ian either, and tells Terror to go look at the building for the youths.  She doesn’t say the offer is time sensitive though, ffs.  

Ian doesn’t get home till it’s full dark out-where was he all afternoon and during the early evening?  At the time I was hoping Mickey’s abandoned building rooftop, but you know that’s just dumb of me.  

Terror is waiting on the front stairs of Ian’s house.  Ian doesn’t look pleased to see him.  First thing out of Terror’s mouth: “I went to look at that place on Ashland.”  (No “Hi”, no “Are you ok?”, no “Do you want to talk?”)  Ian says, “You what?” clearly pissed off.  “It’s got good bones (that’s the 2nd time in the episode they use that real estate buzz phrase-Fiona described the building to them thusly-it sounded out of place both times).  I signed a lease.”  Hold the phone-I’m really going to need to see a printed out job description for Terror’s position at the youth center ASAP.  He has the authority to sign binding legal/rental documents for the place?  He doesn’t even have a valid ID!!!  But I digress.  Ian’s response is, “Fuck, Trev.”  He just sounds exhausted.  Terror says, “She’s right about you not being yourself lately.  (Dafuq?  You’ve known him all of ten months maybe?  And you’ve NEVER let him talk/express himself?  What do you know about Ian being “himself”, asshole?)  This isn’t the mountain you’re making it to be.  Are you taking care of yourself?”  Is he asking if Ian’s having anonymous sex with randos who worship him?  WTF is Terror’s definition of Ian taking care of himself?  Ian answers, pausing between each word, “Yes.  I am taking my fucking meds.  Now get off my porch, dick.”  Terror literally steps in front of him and gets right in his face (since he’s standing a step or two up the stairs) and says, “It is my job to do what is best for those kids and that place on Ashland will make their lives a little bit better.”  So?  THAT’S the appropriate response to whatever Ian is going through?  ANOTHER goddamn lecture about Terror and what Terror does?  Like I said, Fiona didn’t say, “Rush right down there, this offer is only on the table for the next few hours.”  Terror’s all about what he has to do for those kids in need while the guy he claimed he “really loved” is in a world of goddamn hurt?  Leaving Mickey out of it all together, Terror still comes off as an uncaring, self-centered asshole.  Terror doesn’t care about Ian, it’s so clear in this (and many other) scenes.  Why does Shameless keep forcing this on us?  All Terror has been saying the last few episodes while Ian has been trying to help the kids is that Ian’s doing it wrong, and that they are Terror’s kids.  Even bringing up his job like that-if he wanted to make the point to Ian that he’s been trained to help them and Ian hasn’t-why not say THAT instead of going from, “Your sister’s right, are you taking care of yourself?” to pounding his chest and crowing about “his job”?  He’s the one that let Ian in to help the kids, now all he ever does is act like Ian’s not good enough at it.  

The last scene is Ian in his bed.  Fiona comes in to talk to him, they both say they’re done fighting.  Ian oddly says, “I shouldn’t have wasted my time on that bullshit.  Not when there are larger concerns to consider.”  Fiona asks, “Larger concerns like what?”  He takes a breath like he’s about to answer, pauses,she gives him a searching worried af look, then he just changes the topic, “Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?  I was almost asleep in here.”  Instead of saying something like, “I’m your sister, you know you can tell me anything, I want to know,” she just says, “Night, Ian,” gets up, walks to the door, pauses, says, “I love you, you know.”  Close up of Cam’s face, another pause, he finally says, “You too.”  She leaves, there’s another close up of him-his eyes move from the door to staring at nothing.  

So, when I was watching it live, that scene totally freaked me out.  He seemed like he had something bad to tell her, but just couldn’t yet.  I WANT to believe this is all leading to him mourning and missing and not coping about Mickey, but this stupid show never wants to remember Mickey and sure as hell doesn’t want to act like he ever meant anything to Ian but a puppy love Ian outgrew.  So I doubt that’s where they’re going.  I also don’t think it has anything to do with Monica because the show feels like they’ve “done” that story and it’s over.  I was wracking my brain about what Ian’s larger concerns could be referring to, and upset that we’re going to have to wait two weeks to even begin to find out.  Because another possibility is that they’ll never say what the hell he was referring to because that’s what this show is now-brand new every week.  There’s still no fall out from him going into the old couple’s house-was that just a throwaway joke?  That, just like Kev dancing at the Fairy Tail, Ian would do anything for that money?  

On The Walking Dead’s mid-season finale it was revealed that Carl had been bit by a walker in an earlier episode and that’s what this bed scene was reminding me of-that Ian had something really awful and life-altering happen, but he just can’t bring himself to tell anyone yet.  

Anyway, thoughts were spinning around in my head, and then I saw this:  https://youtu.be/ZiFnSVqu1D4   and it was a cold dose of reality, just like those buckets of water falling on Fiona’s head: by the next episode all will be fine.  Ian’s found a new passion project, Terror is on board, holding his Bible for him and supporting his man, even if he does claim to be Ian’s ex-Ian’s quick to “reassure” us that they’ll start banging again soon.  That ugly smile on Terror’s face made me want to cry.  

Now I’m thinking that maybe all “larger concerns” is gonna turn out to be that one of the youths told Ian off camera about the gay conversion program at that church-or that maybe instead of being on Mickey’s rooftop Ian was wandering around the city and saw a flyer or a poster for it.  So when he’s talking to Fiona he’s already moved on from topics of real estate and his contemplating taking on organized religion.  Because this show is that badly written nowadays.  True loyal fans keep remembering how the show was back in the day and could read a lot into the emotions played by Emmy and Cam in that final scene and were naturally worried that something personal is going on with Ian, but it probably is just him setting off on the path of becoming a zealot with a new cause with much-or all-of the reasoning happening off the page and off screen.  LAME.  

They could’ve so easily set this storyline up over time-Ian gets back from leaving Mickey to find not only has he lost the love of his life, but also his mother, his one sympathetic source when it comes to the lifelong condition he still doesn’t have a handle on, it would’ve been the most natural thing in the world for him to look to religion for answers.  But no, we had him chase after Terror like he’s Ian’s only relationship option, and in the next episode he’s got a Bible with dozens of post-it tabs marking the pertinent passages he needs to take on a pastor instead.  Somewhere between telling Fiona he was almost asleep and the next episode he’ll have read and highlighted the entire Bible and quasi-broken up with Terror with the promise that they’ll get together again soon.  Because they can’t make Terror and Ian just friends.  They’re really going to make us suffer thru this on again, off again tedious bullshit?  Why?  

One more note on how much they let happen that we don’t get to see: WHEN DID TERROR FIND OUT IAN HAS BIPOLAR DISORDER?  Was it when Fiona was asking Ian about his meds?  Was it long ago?  Was it before or after Ian ran off with Mickey?  WHEN?  First they just spring it on us that Terror apparently knows all about Ian being a teen prostitute (which the audience still doesn’t even really know about-all we got was retconning because the last we knew, Ian told the porn producer he couldn’t turn tricks at the club), now this?  They waste so much time on scenes that go nowhere and that don’t advance the story at all-they can’t give us a little bit of Ian actually talking to the guy he’s screwing?  Hell, they don’t even give us scenes of them screwing....

[objectsdeconstructed]

Chapter 1, Tale 1: “The Present"

“What are you doing!? Get your hands off of me, you jerk!” Leafy screamed.

“Leafy, leafy!”, Firey defends himself. “Leafy, I’m sorry for what I did. I realized what I wanted most wasn’t Dream Island, It’s you. Your friendship. I just want you to know that I’m tired of all this turmoil that’s going on, all these conflicts and stuff. And I’d rather spend my time with you, whether It’s on Dream Island or not.”

“Really, you mean it?” Leafy whispered, as they hang glided away.

“Hurry up! We have to get back to the execution!” Golf Ball shouted, from the ground.

But it was too late. The lovebirds were already flying off into the sunshine, to a better life, a better tomorrow.

“THE END”

“Battle For Dream Island.”

“Written by-”

________________________________

The TV is shut off. “What a load a’ bullshit.“ Larson mused. “That was corny as hell.”

“Larson!” Mariette shrieked. “We have children in the room!”

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout that, Ma’. Lil’ Liam’s been out for 10 minutes already.”

It was true. Liam had fallen asleep in his mother’s lap. It seems that he’s been asleep for a while.

“Cute lil’ fella. Here, let me-” Larson gently lifted up his youngest brother, whispering. “I’ll take ‘im to the bedroom.”

Mariette thanked Larson, and Larson left the room, with Liam in his arms. Seeing this, Susan spoke up. “Wow. Uh… so, any thoughts on that episode?”

John turned to his sister, “I thought it was kinda good. I mean, for a season finale. Wrapped up stuff nicely. Good enough for me.”

“Wait, really?! I thought it was disappointing as heck! Like, seriously! Even for a cartoon that was absurd! Where did all that come from!? The love arc at the end was jarring and out of place!” Susan complained.

“Well, dear, like you said, It’s a cartoon. Don’t think too much about it, dear.” Mariette replied, yawning. “I’m getting kinda tired, though. You kids wanna keep watching TV, go ahead, but remember to clock in early for tomorrow.”

“What? No, mom! It’s not just a cartoon- We’ve been following this show for like, 2 years now, and It-”

“It’s getting a new season in a few months”, John interrupted. “Don’t worry too much ‘bout it. They’ll probably tie up a few loose ends.”

“Yeah, but- Urgh! I can’t wait that long! I need my fix now!”

“Well, what about Inanimate Insanity? That’s still going.”

“But It’s on hiatus!” Susan groaned.

“Well, you’ll have to find another show on your own. There’s literally hundreds. I’m goin’ to bed.” John remarked, before standing up, carrying his empty drink cans, and heading to his room.

“Ugh, fine. Bye, bro.”

“…Also, you should probably go to sleep soon. It’s getting late-”

“Yeah, no.”

Susan flipped through the other channels, searching for something else to watch.

John walked up the stairs, tossed the cans into the trash, and retreated into his bedroom.

John’s bedroom was a mess. But It wasn’t an ugly mess. It was the kind of mess that felt comfy, and warm, and familiar. There was a mattress at one corner of the room, covered in magazines, books, and other reading materials.

Next to the bed was a desk, textbooks, notebooks, pens and pencils strewn everywhere upon it. Upon the desk was also a laptop. This was John’s most prized possession, and it was old.

John booted up the computer, checking to see if anything interesting has been happening recently.

John was pleasantly surprised to see that his posts have gotten some attention. Making a mental note to check out the comments later, he created a new post, trying to, admittedly, capitalize on BFDI’s recent finale.

Since he didn’t really had anything else interesting to say on the matter, John turned his attention over to what his relatively small social circle had to say on recent events. Maybe there’s some drama or something weird happening.

And away, we go…

Click.

Huh.

John had to admit that he was friends with some really peculiar people. Welp, Anna was… being her usual self. Tony was, in John’s opinion, still trying to influence things outside of his control (John found this trait of Tony’s admirable, but mistaken in this situation). Bryan was still raising questions about his sanity (and apparently, his abilities to spell the word “evasion"). The next post was-

Wait.

What the fuck?

That account uploaded a post.

That account never uploads.

Hold on.

As expected, everyone’s going wild in the comments, but that’s not what matters right now. Something is going on. John had to find out what.

John immediately opted out of his social media tab, and opened up another tab, typing in the address of a less-popular, less-friendly website.

Enter.

The web-page loaded. John stretched back, and scrolled down-

The door to John’s room slammed open.

John slammed his laptop down like hell.

“AAAH!”

Liam was standing in the door way. Larson stood behind him, looking extremely sleep-deprived, yet, amused.

Liam inquired, with large eyes, staring up at him. “John? Are you okey?”

Larson glanced at John, who realized that the sight of him holding down his laptop, staring wide-eyed at the door might not have given off the best impression.

Larson chuckled, “Welp! Uh, Liam. I think we walked in at a bad time-”

John shot him a look.

“No! It’s- Sorry, uh, Liam! Bro! What’re you doing here?”

“…I want give you pwesent.” Liam whispered.

“What?” John asked, flatly.

“Present. Liam wants to give you your Birthday present.” Larson motioned at his mouth “Gotta work on that “Arr" sound. Look, we know that you don’t wanna celebrate your B-Day, and haven’t done so for the last few years, but, what the hey! It’s not every day our boy turns 18!  I mean, our man turns 18. Wait-”

“Ah! Thanks, Liam! But uh, you didn’t have to!” John said, beaming at Liam.

Liam just looked down.

“Uh- No. Kid! Liam! He means that in a good way. Now, give him the drawing, Liam.” Larson said, reassuringly.

Liam beamed up at John again, shoving a slightly wrinkled drawing in his face.

“It’s a pic of our- our family, and- that’s, um, you. And, um, mom and sis, and me and larson! Um, and that’s our ages, but yours is, um, eighteen! With an explooooosion! Because you turn eighteen! Today!” Liam babbled, pointing at the multi-colored representations on the paper.

“Not sure why I’m wearing a suit.” Larson whispered, grinning.

Frankly, it was one of the finest works of art that John had ever seen, despite the fact that Liam drew his arms on his head.

“Wow! It’s awesome, champ! I-”

John was interrupted by Liam giving a huge hug.

“I love you bro.”

John put his hand on Liam’s back. “…Love you too, Liam.”

Larson was just kinda hanging at the door, absorbing the general awkwardness of the situation. “So! Liam! You wanna hit the hay yet? Because I’m about to give out any second now. So! Hop to it, lil’ buddy.”

Larson clapped his hands together. “Chop chop.”

Liam walked to Larson, and they left together.

John was about to reopen the laptop when Larson popped in again. “Hey, uh, kid-”

“Dude, you gotta stop calling people that. I’m 2 years younger than you now-”

“-Sorry, force of habit. John. Uh, I wanna have a word.”

“Yeah, can you make it quick? I’m kinda tired.”

“Don’t worry, I will. I’m pretty close to collapse myself. So, uh…” Larson clasped his hands together. “Enjoy your life, make the most of it, don’t panic,  be careful, don’t hold grudges, be a good man, save up money as soon as possible, word smart not hard, something something eggs in baskets, and uh, don’t take shit from anyone. Oh! and invest in some stuff smartly, watch the stock market closely- And BUY. BITCOINS. Yeah, okay. I think that’s it.” Larson said, extremely quickly.

John blinked.

“…Sorry, what?”

“Life advice, John. That’s life advice. Good night.” Larson yawned, “You can proceed with whatever…” Larson waved his hands “…weird stuff you were doing before. Not gonna judge you, kid.”

“Lars!”

“Right! Not gonna judge you, John. Look, I’m super-”

“What was that?! The life-advice thing!”

“Well, Ah’ don’t really see a point in making that some kinda big deal, so I gave you all I got at once. Don’t expect anymore advice for a while, John. G'night.” Larson was closing the door now.

“…Uh, okay, yeah. Good night, Lars.”

Clank.

Finally. Silence. Privacy. Now-

Bam!

“Lars! For crying out loud-”

“Shit. Sorry ‘bout the door- Happy 18th Birthday, John!”

“Yeah, thanks, bro. Just-”

But Larson had already closed the door.

John waited.

Sensing no one, he opens the laptop again.

[chanelxazvier]

Dating Long Distance - When He’s Serious About Getting To Know You

Since the late 90′s we’ve had the internet and the dinosaur age chat rooms, which has become today’s social media. And before that, we had party lines, but we’ll save that for another day. With the dawn of chat rooms, it gave people access to other people they otherwise would have never met in their normal everyday life. So the potential of your soulmate being cross country, or even in another country all of a sudden became a possibility. And it’s beautiful.

Growing up during this transition, I feel my generation had the best of both worlds. The world past that most people alive today will never know of and efficacies we’re afforded today. Whereas the generation before mine (baby boomers), are less reluctant to meet people online, my generation was introduced to this early enough to be more receptive to the idea.

Living in Hollywood as a young woman in my 20s during this inception of social media (Blackplanet and Friendspace), I was easily seduced by the whole entertainment and professional sports scene. Which in turn I was QUICKLY introduced to what is now commonly known as “flewed out. Naive, and unknowing how the “real world” operated, I met a “baller” and within a matter of weeks I was on a plane to go see him. And of course in my 24 year old mind I’m thinking he’s really checking for me because he spent x-amount of dollars on me to fly me out. BOY WAS I EVER WRONG.

As I was becoming a young woman, my uncles and my dad all warned me about being quick to jump up to go see someone. My grandfather once told me “the two most important things to a man is his TIME and his money, and if he’s a real man, he’s not going to waste either of them”. Apparently I misunderstood what my grandfather was really saying. I’ve been “flewed out” more times than I will share or admit. But needless to say, none of those men are remotely a part of my life today. Nor did any of them last 6 months after I was “flewed out”. 

Let me put you ladies up on some game. Like my granddad said, the most important thing to a man is his TIME and his MONEY and he’s not about to waste either of them. And one thing I have learned (especially recently), my granddad was telling the absolute truth. If you’re really into a fella, and you want to know if he’s just as much invested as you are, instead of being quick to hop on a plane to meet him, see if HE is willing to step out of his comfort zone and to come to you.

You getting on a plane means he only has to move stuff around for a couple of days to be accommodating. But for him to take TIME away from his entire life to dedicate to you, that is what will tell you he’s serious about getting to know you further. For him to spend his own money, leave HIS comfort zone, to give you his undivided attention, he would have to pass over A LOT of women just to get to you. THAT baby girl, a serious man. $200-$300 for a plane ticket to fuck you into oblivion to and fuck up ya wig/braids/twist out and a couple of dinners only to send you home with wet ass and bubble gum, is not a man that is serious about getting to know you. Now if you’re just having fun, then “flewed out” is the move. But if you happen to meet a king who lives out of state, let him be the man he should be for you. 

I’ve learned. I’ve grown. And I understand now. And baybayyyy when I tell you, having a man who shows me I’m special, I’m worth it. He gave me his TIME, and well he’s helped me financially too. But he invested in me because he was serious about me. Boys spend. Real men invest.

Finish Ya Breakfast.

[gaudeixcc]

Peloton news - The fishy protest

Well, it’s 5 months to the Grande Tour that is G19, the Pyrenees. Training has slowly rumbled into life with many a peloton rider poking their beak from the comfort of their winter lair.

Surfacing over the last few weeks have been Damo, a few commutes and even the odd MTB ride. I’ve managed to get off the turbo and have swapped the virtual for reality. We even had the first group ride of the year with RTA & Dripping. An historic event as Dripping tested the new carbon fibre hip in the April sunshine.

A mere 9 weeks ago Macca and I visited Dripping in his private room at the private Gatwick Park hospital. When we arrived, he was in the middle of making a massive fuss about the fact that one of the wall power points wasn’t working and that he couldn’t plug his smart phone (well…. Samsung) in within convenient reach. The nurses, clearly tired from a punishing schedule of looking after the weak and infirm had to drop everything to wheel the half-robot across the corridor to a new room with a better selection of power facilities, Drip grumbling quietly en-route.

Macca and I looked at each other nervously as we felt a chill descend upon the room. It transpires that Drip’s irksome mood was somewhat provoked by a polite refusal from the nursing staff to his 8th request of the day for a bed-bath. 

‘But nurse, ever since my new hip has gone in, my winky feels dirty’, protested a nearly tearful Drip.

Macca, ever the empathetic and caring friend, pulled on the surgical gloves and reached for a damp cloth when Dripping’s tone changed and he suddenly got all shirty about power sockets and room adequacy.

Anyhow, 9 weeks later and the stooping drugged-up post-Op Dripster is sprightly, twinkly-eyed and ready for a 50-mile jaunt in the sunshine. Astonishing all things considered.

The ride out was sensational. We took in Denbigh’s followed by the box hill Olympic route before cutting back up past Dorking and onto the coffee stop.

RTA had shouted a campsite/fishing ground as the place to go for snacks and warm drinks. We had a coffee. We had cake. Then, as it was a particularly sunny bank holiday Friday, we had a pint. RTA and I also learned a little bit about fishing during our 30-minute break. 

Dripping, a keen angler, gave us a good 20-minute running commentary on all the mistakes being made by the small cast of fishermen who were assembled within eye-line. Not only was he highlighting their errors, he was also giving RTA and I coaching on what do should we find ourselves Rod in hand and hunting for sprats.

I tried to pay attention to the pearls of wisdom Drip was releasing. It’s a subject I don’t fully understand, but here goes my attempt at remembering the salient points. RTA, please feel free to fill in the gaps;

• Catching fish is like giving children quality street…. One at a time, to keep their interest.

• Don’t spook the fish

• Don’t show them the line

• Don’t touch the fish which are covered in jelly

• Sit still

• Read a book

• Don’t cross swords with another angler (I am praying he was referring to fishing rods)

Whilst Drip was observing the carnage unfolding, he’d occasionally berate all the JR Hartley’s by muttering ‘rookie’ under his breath.

To conclude, I’m not sure why Drip is trying to keep children’s interest with the bait of quality street or how fish get to purchase and wear jelly. I’ve made an executive decision to stick to cycling. I understand it. It understands me. My sword won’t get crossed. The children are safe. All in all, everyone’s happy.

The ride eventually concluded with a bit of a faster-paced sprint back to the bower for Drip and I. 50 miles in the bag and I could see exactly what Dripping was thinking. 

‘Moley… I’m a coming for ya’…. He didn’t say it…. He didn’t need to. And so, we move seamlessly into a few words on tour preparation.

Now, this year, I ain’t gonna do what I did last year which is turn up ill-prepared, fat and in need of regular snoozes just to keep me functioning. So, I’ve hit training early. Drip is on a mission. He will not only want to be there, he will want to take somebody down. I am grimly determined that it ain’t gonna be me.

Damo, currently wrestling a knackered back, has been off the booze for ages and is in reach of his usual cyclists’ condition. 

JT doesn’t look to have turned a wheel…not that it matters with the amount of winter sports he’s done, but I am determined to see him pushed by this year’s tour virgin, HRH.

Macca and Col Mac have been quiet and finally Moley, well, Moley needs to use the equipment he’s blessed with. Turbo? Check. Hills nearby? Check. Is he his own boss and can therefore engineer his time? Check. Time to get those massive engines which drive your ankles up and at ‘em Moley. You know who’s looking at you with grim determination and a plastic hip don’t you.

 Now here’s a question for you. What has the Peloton got in common with lobsters? An unusual comparison you may be thinking. 

Now lobsters have been rocking round the seas for several hundred million years. In this time their brains have, like many, developed to recognise and react to status. In short, the higher up the pecking order (clawing order?) they are, the more balanced and happy they feel. They show this by their body language. Apparently, the controlling mechanism for all of this is the proportionate balance of 2 hormones produced by the lobsters grey matter… bit more of one (serotonin) and the lobster is a confident little fucker and as such, rises in the social standing of the group…. Bit less and the crusty fella gets a bit withdrawn, hunches his shoulders a little and doesn’t get the pick of the little chickadee lobsters. Now the female lobster is attuned to status. They see a confident sprightly lobster as a good proposition, all things considered, so he who hath his claws held high and bit of a swagger about his gait can expect to be a hit with the ladies and a roughie toughie with gents.

However, all is not quite that simple. Should our alpha male lose status, in a fight with another male for example, then he moves down the chain. This has a dramatic impact. The hormones rebalance to such an extent that the brain has to physically re-grow to cope with the change in circumstance. The old brain just can’t cope with the impact that loss of status has on the tiny aquatic creature.

Worryingly, one of the wider peloton is going through just such a transformation.

Back in the day Amesy used to live on the Bower in creepy Crawley along with the rest of the herberts (me included, natch). Then he moved up in the world. He moved out to the leafy suburbs of Ashington village and into a nice extended 5-bed with a double garage. He could be seen prancing around the place, coaching the privileged kids football and generally being an upstanding pillar of the community. 

Over the period of time I suspect voting changed from labour left to mild conservative right.

 Social status grew steadily and then he hit the big time. He moved to Royal Tunbridge Wells. 

Saturday mornings and he could be seen cruising round the charity shops with his yellow lambs-wool jumper draped causally over his shoulders, whilst he browsed the nick-nackery on offer. 

He even joined the local theatre and became something of a minor celebrity for his portrayal of Widow Twanky in the AmDram Christmas production that year. 

A few months ago he was sitting in the garden in one of his very many comfortable outdoor chairs, sipping a glass of chilled Riesling. He turned to Lou, tireless loving bride of our social high-flyer, and said ‘you know what love, life aint half good’.

Ominously, unbeknownst to Amesy, dark clouds had started to gather. His beloved second home, the luvvies theatre, has now been served an eviction notice and a brand-spanking new facility has been approved by the council. £90 million quids worth of theatre and a smattering of town centre parking is heading his way. And the new lot have made it quite clear that there is no space for his level of Widow Twanky. 

Bang… no more Widow Twanky… no more luvvies… no more kudos and gentle ripples of applause from the blue rinse mob. 

He’s a shattered man.

I spoke with him earlier this evening and it dawned on me just how bad this situation has got. The following words are about as accurate as Peloton news has ever been…

Amesy has been out, placard in hand, and has joined the Tunbridge Wells Alliance in protest against the new theatre. He is literally incandescent with rage. How very dare they!

Who do they think they are? These faceless councillors who just rock up, let money talk, and spoil the whole damned shooting match with this new high-brow monstrosity.

I didn’t ask if he protested in his Widow Twanky garb, but what he did tell me was that he joined in with the chanting.

‘WHAT DO WE WANT?’

‘Not this level of wasteful investment right in our lovely town centre and in particular not the new toilet block pencilled in for Calverley grounds’

‘WHEN DO WE WANT IT?’

‘Now please’.

Not particularly catchy and a far cry from Derick Hatton and the 80’s militant movement, but still, he’s fucking furious.

Anyway, I’ve bought him a box of quality street and Drip is lending him his fishing rod. He needs a calm space to heal, be himself and to regrow his status-shattered brain.

First step fishing…. Who knows, we may see him on a bicycle yet.

Right my lil fuckerinos, get yourselves outdoors and get the wheels moving. 5 months will spin by. The last thing you want to see is Dripping and his spectacularly clean winky making off ahead of you and into the sunset.

On second thoughts, perhaps having dripping behind you and hunting you down with his spectacularly clean winky may be even more frightening.

Ah well, roll the metaphorical dice and let’s see what happens!

Lobsters away..!

Hoppo

[russellthornton]

What Is Masculinity? The Truth Behind What Women Want in Men

As a man, you’ve heard this come from hundreds of women, “I want a real man.” It sounds great on paper, but what is masculinity and manhood really?

Every man I’ve encountered has been puzzled by the whole concept of “masculinity.” Okay, they understand what masculinity is, however, many of them are confused by what women find to be masculine. And you know what, I completely agree with them. But the same thing can be said for femininity, what is it exactly? There’s no actual answer for it because everyone has their own ideas of what is masculinity or femininity.

When it comes to humans, nothing is what it seems. Women say they want a nice guy. However, not someone who’s a pushover.

If you’re rolling your eyes, I feel ya. What does that even mean? So, they want a nice guy but if you’re the nice guy, you know very well that they don’t want that… because you’re probably still single. But don’t worry, you’ll get your chance, just be patient. [Read: 15 reasons why nice guys finish last all the time]

What is masculinity? 10 traits that make you a man

So, with all these opposing thoughts, it seems like there is no definition of masculinity. But that’s where you’re wrong. At the end of the day, there is a consistent belief of what masculinity is that runs strong within women.

No, you don’t have to have a beard.

#1 Self-awareness. This is possibly the most important trait in a man: self-awareness. We all have flaws and bad days, but being aware of your behavior and how it affects others is a huge part of masculinity.

Assholes don’t give a shit about what they do to other people, but a man is someone who actually considers other people’s feelings. In other words, he acts like a human being. [Read: 12 tips to transform yourself from a nice guy to a real man]

#2 Proactive. A real man isn’t lying on the couch every day, waiting for his girlfriend to bring him a beer. Instead, he’s up and moving. He wants to do things with his life, he wants to enjoy the moments and get things done.

Now, this doesn’t mean you can’t sit down and crack open a beer. But you’re not letting your life waste away while everyone else is doing the work for you. [Read: 12 signs you’re being selfish around everyone who cares]

#3 He understands that a relationship is a partnership. Many men think that to be a man, you should be in control and dominant in a relationship. Which is wrong. A relationship is about two people in partnership. Both have good and bad qualities. But you support each other and use your strengths to work together.

It’s not about the man bringing home the bacon, it’s a team effort. A real man sees this and uses this partnership to benefit both people.

#4 Uses words over fists. I know that many men feel showing true masculinity is about not letting anyone walk all over you. Which is true, however, some people think the only way to do it is to physically fight it out. Which isn’t right.

I mean, there will be times when you’re placed in a position where you’ll have to fight to protect yourself, but if you’re intelligent, you can mostly talk your way out of any scenario. That’s a real man. Someone who doesn’t resort to violence right away but takes an alternative route to get them out of a sticky situation. [Read: What women find attractive: 16 traits girls instantly fall for]

#5 Values himself. A man loves himself. I mean, we all should learn to love ourselves, but for now, I’m focusing on men and masculinity. It’s not “feminine” to take care of yourself. It’s not “feminine” to eat healthy, exercise, and do things you love. Where did you get this information from? I mean, come on, it’s we’re almost two decades into the new century!

If you’re a real man, you understand the importance of taking care of yourself because, at the end of the day, no one takes care of you. You’re on your own, so better invest the time and energy in yourself.

#6 He’s independent. We all depend on people until a certain age. After that, it’s time that we develop our own independence and become secure with ourselves. This is what a real man does.

I had friends that were over thirty and still relying on their parents to cook them dinner and do their laundry. That’s still a boy. A man wants to learn how to be self-sufficient and able to provide for himself. [Read: Weak men and strong men – 13 opposing traits that split them apart]

#7 He’s there when he says. What is masculinity really? Well, it’s all about how much of a man he really is. And a real man is someone you can rely on. If they tell you that they’re going to call you tonight, they call. If they say they’re going to come over to help you paint your walls, they show up.

Empty promises are told by people who have yet to grow up. If you’re trying to develop “masculinity” it’s easy, just do what you say you’re going to do.

#8 He is focused on what he wants. A boy is someone who’s all over the place. He’s finding himself, fooling around, running from one place to another. That’s not a bad thing since everyone goes through that phase in their lives. However, a man is different.

They know what they want in life and know what is a waste of time. A man knows what he wants and understands that he needs to do things to achieve his goals. If you still sleep till two pm, living on your mom’s couch, you’re still in that teenage phase, but don’t force it, when you’re ready and tired of your current life, you’ll want to change. [Read: Defining true masculinity: What does it mean to be a man?]

#9 They’re secure with who they are. Being a man isn’t as complex as people think it is. It’s about loving and accepting who you are, flaws and all. If you’re secure with yourself, then that is the definition of being a man.

Mainstream masculinity tells you that you need a beard and drive a BMW, but that has nothing to do with it. Be secure with who you are and your values—that’s the ultimate masculinity. [Read: Here’s how you can be masculine without being a jerk]

#10 Knows that being a man doesn’t mean being an asshole. Some guys are a little mixed up in the head. They think women like assholes and there’s no doubt that some do, but many don’t. We do like playing games, but you don’t have to be an asshole to play them back, you just know where your boundaries are and say no when you need to.

That doesn’t mean you’re an asshole, you just have self-respect and know your worth. That’s not being an asshole. But for you fellas that think you must be an asshole in order to be a man, well, you’re wrong. Being an asshole doesn’t make you a man, it makes you an asshole.

[Read: How to be a mantle way he really should be]

Still wondering what is masculinity all about? Now that you have the basics down, don’t let mainstream society try to make you into some giant douchebag all for the sake of being masculine.

The post What Is Masculinity? The Truth Behind What Women Want in Men is the original content of LovePanky - Your Guide to Better Love and Relationships.