#hey ill take one bad episode out of five and a half seasons

[sallyrhubarb]

Nadja's cleavage carried that episode tbh

[loftec]

what do u think about the new episode? because i personally fucking hate it :) i hate shameless, the only thing i care about right now is fic 😔

Same, my friend. I have been thinking about what to say or not to say about this for over a week and every time I've sat down to just type something out, I haven't been able to articulate anything. But I have so much to say, so I will try.

Now, if you (reading this, right now) are one of the lucky peeps who like this season and what it's got going for Ian and Mickey, so far... then maybe skip this rant. I honestly don't want to drag you down with my criticism. It's so ok to peacefully enjoy something without having to listen to people being crabby about the thing you love. Pax vobiscum.

That said.

(Crabby rant under cut.)

But if you're like me, kinda hurt and let down for the very last time, please stay a while. I'll tell you why I'm like this, and why I'm no longer angry, just disappointed.

Here's the thing, the first episode wasn’t any fun for me, but I quite enjoyed the second! It was the kind of low-stakes close-knit family stuff I want from a Shameless episode. Literally all they have to do to keep me happy is cram a bunch of Gallaghers into a kitchen and let them talk to each other for five minutes. I'm very easy to please. I like Sandy, I like what she does for Debbie's character. I like Tami, I like that Lip seems a lot happier. I like Liam, someone please take care of the boy. I like that Carl has a goal, and that he's all grown up. I like that Ian and Mickey are married and that they're a part of this family again. It’s a nice vibe, we’re having a party for Franny and it’s not perfect, but we learned something and we’re having fun. It’s fine.

On the whole, it’s nice. But for someone whose main priority is Ian and his significant other, it’s the same old bullshit all over again.

In seasons 1-5, I'm pretty sure Ian and Mickey only had like three conversations with each other that weren't plot relevant. But it was fine, it's en ensemble cast and Fiona, Lip and Frank got most of the A plots. Ian and Mickey had a lot of serious stuff going on, so the 5 minutes they got to do something each week had to be used dealing with all the shit they had to deal with. It's fine. This is fine. It's fine. I understand how TV works. We cut in on them in the middle of a conversation about Jean-Claude Van Damme, and I understand that they've spent the whole evening together and that they've talked about other things as well. Silly, inconsequential things, things people talk about when they like each other and want to be close and get to know each other. And when we're dropped in the middle of Ian, Mickey and Svetlana playing house in 5x1, I understand that it has been a period of time since we saw them last, and that things have changed. That they have talked about some things, and not talked about some things. And I happily played along and filled in all the gaps, I did the work; I imagined them together on a good day, on a calm evening lounging on the couch, on a lazy morning sleeping in. Quiet breakfasts, lively dinners. I imagined what they would say to each other, what they would talk about and what they still couldn't talk about. I did the work because it felt like it was worth it, because I knew that the story they were focusing on (Ian's illness and Mickey coming into his own) were worth it. That they needed every second they could get to tell the story of a mentally ill teenager and his abuse survivor boyfriend learning to love and support each other, and get better and grow up on their own terms.

I, the fool, kept thinking that one day. One day it would get better and they would get a break and the show would give them a minute, just a minute here and there, to be happy. Have a conversation that we could get in on. Have one good day for us to witness, and not just imagine.

Instead they broke them up for production reasons, for behind the scenes bullshit, for no reason at all, other than the simple fact that the show runners have never once cared about Ian and Mickey as much as we have. As much as Cam and Noel have. They had no qualms about rewriting a whole season's arc to make no sense in the last minute. They had no issues with throwing a beloved character in prison and leaving him there for a season and a half (which could have been good storytelling... if not every single Gallagher to ever get locked up had some lucky thing happen to spring them out again way before they’ve done their time). They had no problem with letting Ian say and do one thing one minute and then the exact opposite the next.

I think the thing that truly made me give up on the show at that time was the tattoo. We had such precious few things to work from when trying to understand these characters and we did our very best. We took the crumbs and we built a whole castle of cake. And one of the cornerstones, one of the first fucking things we ever knew about Mickey Milkovich, was that he could spell the name "Ian Gallagher". And if they wanted to give him a bad tattoo, they still could have. Maybe he did it himself and got it wrong because of the angle. Maybe there was a miscommunication and whoever did it on him got the name wrong. But no, they had to have him sit there and claim that he didn't know how to spell his boyfriend's name. It was so petty, so mean-spirited, such a massive fuck-you to anyone who dared to care and retain the things they'd previously told us about Mickey, I just had to stop caring about canon. I drew a line for myself around the canon I could understand as emotionally consistent, and ignored anything that landed on the other side of it. Perhaps not the best way to watch a TV show, but then I also stopped watching the show. So it worked out.

Anyway, this wasn't supposed to be about the first five seasons. But I'm obviously still bitter, and I wanted to explain why I'm well past the point of chasing after crumbs. Because it’s still the same bullshit, only now they’ve exchanged important, nuanced storylines about coming out and getting better for... I don’t know. Talking about sex and arguing about money.

Here is an incomplete list of loftec’s crumbs of disappointment, so far:

Ian and Mickey have been married for 6 (?) months, and the writers will have you believe they still have not had a conversation.

Ian is still relegated to C-plots (only now he's sometimes allowed in the background of an A plot, which is fun I guess but still not near what he deserves after all these years).

Meanwhile, Lip got two separate extended scenes detailing how he tricks his girlfriend into spending less money, in the first episode. That’s so much airtime spent on one point. In the second episode, he had a casual conversation with his baby! Ian and Mickey haven't had a casual conversation about anything since fucking never! 

Ian and Mickey have talked about sex and money, so far. Nothing else. Important things, I'm sure. But let's compare this with Lip in the same episode. Lip and Tami wake up together, they get to be sweet to each other, talk about their lives and daily routine, they have a chat about coffee and someone they know who is having a hard time, then they get into the subject of their conflict du jour. Ian and Mickey get a weird allusion to how much sex they're having (so much sex you guys, just believe and it will come true!) and then they're arguing about jobs and money. For two whole episodes. Except that one time where they got derailed and accidentally talked about monogamy instead.

Monogamy. Something they haven’t talked about before. And apparently a word Mickey doesn’t understand, or know how to spell.

And it still feels so petty, because it's just. So specific. They could have chosen any of the magnificent character traits of Mickey's that they teased us with in the first five seasons, and this is the thing they pick? And then turn into a main character trait?? Mickey can't spell. Mickey doesn't understand words. Haha ha. And I'm not purposefully misunderstanding this scene, I promise. I understand what they were trying to do. I most certainly understand what Noel acted his ass off to convey. I am not here freaking out about Mickey wanting to be with other people, or Ian saying this or doing that. I'm not worried about them cheating or getting a divorce. I'm just really disappointed that this is where we are now.

That Mickey, who we all saw through and understood to be smart and loyal, quick on his feet and quippy as anything, has been reduced to this. I'm pretty sure he's had his hand down his pants in half the scenes he's been in so far. I don't know what that means, but it's like... a choice. And I don't like this choice. They could have had an insecure conversation about monogamy and money and we could have gone on this journey with them as they struggle with their inability to communicate and I would have been all for it, if it had been written with something more, anything else, something to break through the plump humor and crass approach to this marriage that Ian spent half of the last season trying to have a conversation about! But never got to, because the writers thought it would be funnier to have Mickey punch Ian in the face and run off with some guy, rather than talk to him!

Also, I know this is getting outrageously long, but the fighting. The fighting is another thing. Who here watched that scene in 3x9 where Ian tries to get Mickey to be honest with him and Mickey kicks him in the face rather than admit he's gay, and thought, hey! Guys being guys, am I right? Who here watched that scene in 5x10 when Ian punched Mickey in the face because he didn't know how to accept care from someone who loves him and wanted to feel a feeling, and thought; oh yes, this is just how they communicate! This is fine! I know I didn't. But sure, why not. It's a choice, I guess. They're just manly men, and manly men fight with their significant others. They beat the shit out of each other, no problem. This is not something we need to have a conversation about, not at all.

This is about writing. They easily could have written Ian and Mickey’s scenes differently. They could have had incidental bits of conversation, hinting at their lives outside of this conflict they’re having. They could have been in the background of someone else’s scene, just a quick gesture of something nice that would help flesh out the bits in between. They could have conversations and storylines about pretty much anything, and still bring up the question of monogamy and Mickey’s residual insecurities about Ian’s past infidelity. They could have been subtle about it, instead of writing a clown scene where Mickey acts like a clown and Ian doesn’t remember that he’s done a lot of shit in their past that they maybe need to talk about. Because they still haven’t talked about it? NOT ONCE? THEY WERE IN THE SAME CELL FOR MONTHS! AND NOT A SINGLE CONVERSATION WAS HAD. THIS IS FINE. I’M FINE.

I get it. This is supposed to be a fun show about whacky characters. It's supposed to be outrageous, the show runners and writers are choosing these things to get a reaction. I get it, and I don't like it and if you think this means that I should stop watching the show and shut up, then I agree with you.

But also, I love these characters and this community, and I want to like this season. Our last season. I want to watch it and still hope that Ian and Mickey will get to have a conversation about nothing special, just because they like each other, before it's over.

And if not, there is always fic. And you know I will be making them talk to each other in NTW until there are no words left.

[teacup-crow]

Next Friday

*this is a repost because Tumblr broke on me earlier!  I was ill for two days and could only really lie in bed and wrote this. Set after S5M15, based more around M17, warnings for requisite Season 5 sadness, effects of hunger and Australian levels of swearing.

Summary: Nadia, Owen and Veronica plan next week’s movie night.

Owen is an idiot, Veronica has always thought. But lately, he’s their idiot. Popping up in the lab asking her opinions on irrigation techniques - not her area, of course, but the science behind some of it is fascinating. Appearing during Friday movie nights with Nadia, which had always been their thing, but still respecting that. Appreciating whatever they chose. Never pushing things too far. He’s really good at cooking, too, eking out the most flavour possible from their smaller and smaller ration packs - and always making sure they eat before he does. Maybe there isn’t too much going on upstairs, but he’s nice. He doesn’t judge her, or set her off, or sit too close, or try and make eye contact like Ian does. 

“Only liars don’t look people in the eye, Veronica,” Ian had hissed earlier that afternoon. He’d asked some inane question about Sigrid’s taste in wine, and she’d tried to brush him off but he was having none of it. “I know you’re the Minister’s precious little poppet, but I don’t trust you. Nobody likes creepy children who hover around where they’re not wanted. You and your nasty, sneaky girl guide friends… although they don’t really like you either, do they? Not really one for friends your own age, are you?”

She’d stared right ahead, still avoiding his face. “I need to get on with my work, Ian. Haven’t you got things to be doing for Sigrid too?”

He got a tad frostier. “Watch your tone. It’s the Minister to you. And she isn’t here right now, sweetheart, is she?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Say one more thing to me in that tone of voice, Miss McShell, one more thing, and you won’t see your Nadia for a very, very long time.”

The beaker in Veronica’s hand cracked around the base as she squeezed it. What tone? She’d tried to be polite. She could feel his stinking breath on her neck, knew his flat grey eyes would be right there if she looked at them, full of blazing jealousy and spite. And he wouldn’t, couldn’t follow through on that threat, could he? She was here of her own volition.

“Hey, Ronnie! And - oh, hello, I- Commander. We were just going to lunch?” Owen hurried into the lab, his voice bright and giving nothing away, but Veronica noticed from years of analysing it that his posture was stiff for a trained Runner. Beaten, perhaps, or anxious? Ian sneered a little at the sight of him, but backed off, probably appeased by the honorific, and she let Runner Six take her by the hand and pull her away. He’d sat her between himself and Runner Thirteen, and tried to get them engaged in a silly story about the time a koala attempted to steal his mum’s van. She’d ended up explaining to them the high rates of chlamydia among koalas, getting a bit confused when Cameo and Owen found the facts so funny. And the day passed safely - at least until he made a run for it.

The sweat is pouring off Owen’s face now as she attempts to dig the bullet out of his leg, swearing profusely even for an Australian. “Jesus FUCK!”

“I’ve not done this before! I'm trying my best.”

“Fucking Ian, the mangy bastard cu-”

Nadia clamps her hands over Veronica’s ears as if she’s never heard the word before. “Please, just keep it down before someone tips him off!”

Ian hadn’t seen the need to let a ‘traitorous, stupid boy’ use ‘limited medical resources’. Owen is supposed to be back on punishment detail, 5am sharp, or face the consequences. The only thing keeping him from the box is the fact that Cameo is already occupying it. So here they are in the lab, after hours, with a sixteen year old girl trying to stop him bleeding out with very little time, experience or painkillers. 

“Ya know, I’ve been through a fair amount of utter bollocking bollocks this apocalypse but really-“

“Runner Six, will you shut it!” And then, closer to his ear, out of Veronica’s earshot: “Did it work?”

He gives the slightest of nods. She smiles, broad and genuine, though her face is thin. They’re all getting a little more haggard, day by day. Veronica glances at the two of them, lovingly gazing at each other, and resolves that she’ll find some clever way to bring their lack of food up to the Minister. Sigrid is a smart woman; if she had any inkling that her top scientist keeps finding hair on her pillow each morning, that her fingernails are brittle, that three people collapsed in the fields last week, that for the first time since meeting Nadia she can count each and every rib, she’d surely do something to curb Ian’s ridiculous power trip.

She yanks at the bullet. Owen screams blue murder. Nadia shoves a balled up tea towel into his mouth, and deadpans: “So much for movie night.”

“I wasn’t really looking forward to The Green Mile,” Veronica admits. “I don’t know what you have against Planet Earth.”

“The fact that I have seen the same episode of the same documentary a thousand times in the last three years may play a part, Ronnie.”

“...only thirty-three.”

“What?”

“I pick the movie every other week. Because of many changes in circumstance, we’ve only had a hundred and nine movie nights. I pick Planet Earth approximately sixty percent of the time. We’ve seen it thirty-three times in the last two and a half years.”

Nadia sighs, and removes the cloth from Owen’s mouth. “You holding up?”

“I’m sorry for ruining your plans, ladies. Next time I try to escape from budget bloody Percy Wetmore, I promise not to do it on a Friday,” Owen pants, but the pain seems to be receding. “Ya know, if I had a nickel for every time I got shot in this calf, I’d have two nickels.”

“Which isn’t a lot, but insane that it happened twice, right?” Nadia responds with a short laugh. 

“Did you both spend all your time watching children’s shows pre-apocalypse?”

“Hey, I was a kid pre-apocalypse! She has no excuse.”

“Um, ATC work was stressful and I make no excuses for how I enjoyed my free time.”

“But if you’re twenty-four now, you were eighteen on Z-day, Owen,” Veronica points out.

“Eighteen year olds are still kids, Ronnie.” His voice is suddenly quite tired. He squeezes Nadia’s hand as Veronica pulls the first stitch, hissing between his teeth a little.

She juts out her chin. “I’m younger than that and I’m not a child.”

Neither of them dispute that, though she still cuts a tiny figure in a too-large lab coat, sleeves rolled up three times to make it fit.

“How do you know it’s from a children’s show, anyway, Miss-never-watched-Disney-Channel?”

“...I don’t have to answer that if I’m not comfortable.”

Nadia shoots her an expressing your boundaries thumbs-up. She feels the worry in her chest loosen a little. Everything will be fine. She’ll get Owen’s leg stitched, and today’s drama will force Sigrid’s hand. The Minister will come to Abel and fix things, and she can get back to working on the cure, and Owen and Nadia will be safe and look after each other.

“I’m going to head back to my bunk, I think,” Nadia says, a tinge of fear in her voice as she glances through the darkening window. “Better not to be missed too long, and I should check on Cameo. She… she distracted Ian from you for a bit. It didn’t look pretty.”

“We’ll be all right, Naddi, you go on,” Owen squeezes her hand one last time, and lies back on the lab table. Veronica nods, absorbed in her task. They hear her wheels clatter down the ramp and fade across the square, quiet as footsteps.

“So, you like Planet Earth a lot?”

“I used to watch it with Dad.”

“Oh. Makes sense. My mum’s a big Tom Hanks fan. I’ve probably seen every movie he’s been in… well, about thirty-three times as well.”

“You know there’s a video of Castaway in the rec room, right?”

“I brought it back, actually. Years ago, now. But I don’t know if I can watch it, yeah? I’m scared it might make me think about her too much.”

“Owen,” Veronica finishes the stitches, and starts to clean up some of the blood. She’s watched Kefilwe do this dozens of times. Antiseptic. Dabbing rather than smearing. Keep the patient’s mind off the sting. “Do you remember what your mum looks like?”

The silence that follows makes her wonder if this is a faux pas. He eventually responds: “No, not quite.”

“No, me neither. I have a photo, but I can’t picture them as actual living people. Memories are really interesting that way, actually. We’re not as visual as-“

“Ronnie. Can we talk about something else?”

“Okay.” She racks her brains for small talk. “Do you… like it here at Abel?”

“What, now?” He snorts. “With that pinstripe suit cu-”

Veronica clamps her hands over her own ears, knowing Nadia wouldn’t want her to hear it. He smiles, and raises his hands in apology.

“No, not now. Before.”

“It was all right. Home. Safe. You knew Janine was looking out for ya. There was always enough food to go round.”

“But did you feel like you fit in?” she presses.

“...can’t say I did.”

“Me neither,” she says, a little relieved.

“Runners are quite a superstitious bunch. And I’m unlucky.”

Her brow scrunches in confusion. “Bad luck isn’t a very scientific reason to dislike someone.”

“Can you tell that to getting tied to train tracks, set on fire and repeatedly shot at?”

“Actually, Dad was working on a statistical model of danger to Runners in his spare time. I found it a while ago, me and Nadia were repurposing it to make missions safer. When I include Five in the sample, you actually fall under the average for number of dangerous situations encountered.”

“Uh, I think Five is an outlier.”

“You’re probably right.” She wraps the wound in bandages, and tucks them in. “Done!”

“I owe you one, Ronnie.”

“Just… stay safe. Both of you. I haven’t got time to worry about you two as well as curing the zombie plague.”

“You’re only a… you shouldn’t be worried about us at all, squirt.”

She shrugs. “It’s not my fault you do worrying things. If he puts you in a cell and you can’t change the dressings frequently just do your best to keep it clean.”

“Will do!” He swings off the table, avoiding putting weight on his leg as much as possible. “Whatever he does, I’ll try to make next Friday, all right?”

She nods. Next Friday, she’ll pick out Castaway, and they’ll watch it together, and maybe movie night can be Owen’s thing too.

[valkerymillenia]

Umbrella Academy

season 2, episode 6

I couldn't resist. More live-blogging of this episode.

My poor Allison...

Oh so that's what Handler wants from Five...

Ahah, Luther and Diego pointing out what Reggie did to Vanya and her reaction is awesome.

"no more number 1 or number 2 bullshit" -yes, Diego, baby, you're growing up! Also, him trying to bond with Luther and Vanya on his own accord is so fucking cute...

Klaus doing yoga 😆

Oh, so confirmed that the cult started by accident.

"you're a narcissist"? Ben, you've been watching him closely for 16 years, you know that's not true, you know the narcissism is just a mask, you know Klaus is actually insanely empathetic and compassionate.

Oh, wait, Ben is only saying this crap because he doesn't want Klaus to disband the cult. I get it now, Ben is the one being selfish here.

Oh, so the girl Ben likes is Jill... Boy is smitten.

Ahahah, Ben freaked out by the yoga poses 😆

Jesus, they really don't give Klaus space to breathe.

"my name is Klaus's and I'm an alcoh--- Ah, sorry, that's the wrong meeting" 🤣🤣🤣

Oh God, this is turning into a Spartacus thing... Oh, it's not.

There they go objectifying him and only hearing what they want to hear... These dudes are almost as bad as the ghosts.

Oh so it DID turn into a Spartacus thing!

Klaus tries to do the right and it always blows up in his face, huh?

Ray's priorities though 😆

Ahahah, Allison and Ray pulling a 'Pretty Women' rodeo drive scene 🤣 love it

That's a beautiful dress, Allison 😊

Wait! She's using her powers without the 'rumor' prefix! 😲 Yes!!!!!!

Oh, Allison is losing control... Is this the cost? Getting lost in the power trip? I mean, we already knew but not too this extent.

Lila, your mom is actually protecting you here. Listen to her.

Handler teasing Lila about Diego really is such a mom thing to do.

"I know you fancy yourself a spiritual guru..." - no, Ben, have you not been paying attention? That's literally what Klaus thinks he's NOT but nobody will listen to him. You're right that he needs help though.

Ok, Klaus is right. Ben keeps contradicting himself about what Klaus should do.

"you sound just like Dad" Oh, shit that's a really mean insult in this family 🥺

Holy crap, was that possession?????

That looks severely uncomfortable.

"I think I was inside of you" -.... No, no, too easy, I'm not going to say it. 🤐

DAVE?

Awww, Klaus doesn't even care about the punch.

Dave likes Dune, huh? Good taste.

Oh, the dog tags.... 😭

"it's an honor to die for my country" -no, honey, not like this

Oh shit, timeline changed, timeline changed! Dave is going to wear early. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

The shaking... Poor Klaus... How hasn't he snapped yet?

Swedes in the sauna, of course.

Strategically placed steam 😆

Ah! The Swedes FINALLY talk!

Ouch! Right for the balls. I'm starting to really like Handler.

"unharm my wiener" 🤣🤣🤣 poor boy

Handler, is this your attempt at protecting your daughter from feelings? It's twisted and evil but almost cute.

What the hell does "lavender" mean? Her perfume or something?

Southland Life?

The elevator scene! They really did all come together, I love it when Five is right.

AHAHAHAHAHAH What's with Luther and the stink jokes this season? 🤣🤣🤣🤣

'Daddy's girl' 😆

"team zero" I actually like that Diego keeps harping on the no numbers thing.

"classic" 😆

"hey pop, how's it hanging?" 🤣

"dead, yes, but I'm here! Klaus! Tell them I'm here!" -yes, please, Klaus, it's so cruel that you keep denying him that... 😣

"what are you writing?" Everybody leaning in and Diego getting all nervous. XD they are so conditioned, poor children.

The punch! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

"no, Vanya, don't!!!" Everyone is so scared of her but yet they are still making an effort to include her and that's so important!!

"oops" -that is not the smile of someone that means that oops, Vanya 😆

Reggie's sarcasm 🙄 I can see where half these siblings got their sass now.

Jesus Christ, Reginald is emotionally tearing Diego apart 😭 as much as Diego claims not to care what their father thinks, he cares, he really cares, they all do. I doesn't matter if you know that your parent is abusive, you will always have that visceral pain response of betrayal when they attack you and you will always in some way crave their approval. It's the terrible power imbalance of parental abuse.

There's the stutter! Poor Diego... Don't cry, baby...😭😭😭

Oh shit, Ben!

Reggie is not impressed. I get a feeling that they might have accidentally convinced him to NOT to adopt them...

"you in the cullotes" 😆 Reggie immediately tagged who the leader is

"I feel so violated" -why are they playing this for laughs?? It's horrible!

"oh, possession is a strong word, I'd like to say 'borrowed you'." -ok, so I get why Ben did that, Klaus pushed him too far and he got desperate. But please, PLEASE tell me Ben understands the seriousness of what he did and doesn't start abusing this ability without Klaus's consent.

ok, a serious thought now: no wonder Klaus did drugs, it was the only thing he could control in his life, the only way he had to take some control back, and this possession thing now only makes that more obvious. He has no control over his body if someone decided to take it, no control over the powers that make him see the dead everywhere, no control over his family life (the fact that Reginald locked in the mausoleum is just the tip of the iceberg in his lack of power), no control of the circumstances that killed the love of his life, no control over the masses that objectify him no matter how much he tries to tell them he isn't their savior and to leave him alone, he just has no control and nobody seems to get that, that's why him falling off the wagon is so serious and should be addressed by the family. Klaus deserves a family that cares about his suffering!!!

Congratulations to Luther for standing up to dad for the first time but Vanya is the only one with her priorities straight and goes straight to comforting Diego. And Diego immediately goes back to his passive-aggressive defense system...

I need more Diego-Vanya bonding in my life.

Poor Klaus... At least hold him properly, Luther.

I get a feeling this Grace is going to end up dying and I really don't want that to happen...

"technically I'm older than you right now" -no, Five, your not, you have no idea how old Reginald really is, he arrived in the US a full grown adult in the beginning of the century, he's inhumanly old (I never understood how he suddenly looked old in 89 when he adopted them considering that in 63 he looks almost as he did when he first arrived in the US so those decades before).

Ah, so that's what the ancient Greek was.

Reggie actually dishing out some wisdom and doing so patiently... Who is this?!

Don't you dare apologize, Five! You have nothing to apologize for!

Geez, Reggie and Five acting like they could be friends in different circumstances is actually surprisingly creepy. It also speaks to how fucked up even Five is about Reggie's abuse, even at almost 60 he's still clinging to the idea that maybe Reginald knows everything and has all the answers, he's still hoping that their suffering was for a reason and that Reginald might be proud of him. It's sad.

A cat? Are Swedes... Yes, the Swedes are in Elliot's house. Please don't let Elliot die, I like the poor weirdo.

The Swedes were more interesting when they didn't talk. (Still want to know what the glittery stuff they were drinking is).

"they do not abide women like us around here" -there or anywhere else, Sissy, it's 1963, homosexuality is literally illegal and considered a mental illness

Sissy actually makes a very good point.

Ok, this conversation is already veering their relationship into much healthier territory! Good. But now I'm scared for Sissy...

Damn, I hadn't even finished typing that last sentence and my fears were already proven right. Fucking Carl saw them.

Oh please, let Elliot be alive...

Noooooooooooo!

Damn it, I liked Elliot. He was so good to this family... 😩😠😢

"öga för öga"? Seeing as Elliot has something stuck in his eye, I'm going to guess that means 'eye for an eye' or something?

Ok, I googled it, yes, it's 'eye for an eye'.

I LOVE THIS HANDLER DRESS! 🤩

1982, huh? I'm guessing where about to see badass Five? I hope so.

[letstalksymphogear]

Symphogear, EP. 5

LAST TIME ON SINGY WINGY

ANGRY GREMLIN BEAT UP GOOD BY SUICIDE MOVE SURVIVE BLUE BIRD YES. BLUE BIRD GO TO HOSPITAL FOR WATER METAPHOR WITH AFTERLIFE GIRLFRIEND. TINY BIRD SAD, BUT THEN NOT GET SAD! JACKIE CHAN TIME AFTER MUCH THINKING. WIFE WORRIED ABOUT THINGS. SOMETHING SOMETHING PUNCH GOOD NOW.

Let us continue.

Miku wakes up to see her wife has run off yet again. This is the part of the Sam Reimi’s Spiderman franchise phase where the Mary Jane (not weed) begins having a rockier relationship with Peter Parker (not slang for penis) due to lack of availability.

It’s contrived.

It’s almost impressive that she left a note and had time to draw a tiny Hibiki saying something in a bubble. Glad to see you have your priorities straight, Hibiki.

“you know she might have had a better time in the local art school that doodle aint half bad”

Hibiki is motherfucking Rocky all up in this.

She’s going to kick some ass and nobody’s getting in the way.

“YOU’RE GONNA EAT LIGHTING AND YOU’RE GONNA CRRRRRAP THUNDER TACHIBANAAAAA”

“THAT’S A DIET I CAN GET BEHIND”

I wasn’t joking when I said she’s not fucking around anymore. Did you think I was joking? I can see how you can get the impression given the first few episodes, but I really can’t emphasize the thoroughness of the ass kicking she is going to be capable of.

“MY FATHERLY ENERGIES ARE WORKING! ADOPTERS ANONYMOUS WAS WRONG AFTER ALL!”

That’s totally not ominous in the slightest.

Meanwhile, in the middle of an unnamed McMansion in the middle of who knows where...

Gratuitously spoken English is heard. To be fair, it’s actually really impressive pronunciation coming from people whose native language are systemically different to ours. Most shows would just settle for “this dude is actually speaking english but everything is said in japanese for better interpretation” but not Symphogear! No siree!

Relic business is afoot.

We have a random blonde lady shooting random Noise from the thing The Gremlin had in her hands.

She’s really trying her best with her accent. She’s also casually shooting Noise because let’s face it, would we not do the same if it were in our hands?

“i do whatever i want with my big stiff rod pal”

Also, she’s a nudist. To also be fair, if you lived in a fuckoff rich McMansion with weapons beyond your comprehension, you likely couldn’t help but walk around naked doing whatever the fuck you want.

The people she’s talking to are the Americans, which we explained before are portrayed strictly in an antagonistic light. They want some relics, and this lady clearly deals them like like some sort of glorified drug dealer.

Suffice it to say, she’s not a very nice person.

Also, the subs don’t match what they’re saying in English in the slightest.

The name of this woman... is Fine (pronounced fi-neh). And she is the main antagonist of this series.

Fucking identical.

And here is the most unpleasant scene in the entire season.

The person we’ve repeatedly alluded to as The Gremlin is called Yukine Chris. She serves Fine in whatever the hell they’re up to right now. In this case, it’s using the Nehushtan armor to run around with Solomon’s Cane to throw Noise around the city.

“shits gonna get real abusive, pal”

Fine is a narcissistic sociopath. She’s manipulated Chris into servitude by believing she is the only one that can pave humanity into salvation.

“i dont like that smile”

Chris thinks Fine can secure her deepest wish. Ironically? It’s world peace.

“yeah! yeah yeah, world peace, yeah, totally. just treat me like jesus and we’re gucci”

Anyway, she proceeds to thoroughly shock Chris.

The lore behind this is that this is helping her resistance with dealing with the physical demands of the Nehushtan armor, as well as deal with the pieces of Nehushtan that may be still inside. Let’s be real, though. Fine’s a sadist, and just likes hurting people willy nilly.

“fuck... that hurt like shit... hey wait... wouldnt some of the electrical arcs hit you and shock you too, given you’re so naked and close to all this...?”

“ya nevermind that food looks real nice and i want a piece of that fuckin turkey”

It’s a real creepy scene, and it cements Fine’s horribleness really well. One of the most pivotal things to take note is that Fine says that people can only communicate with each other universally through pain. Strong, terrible BDSM overtones notwithstanding, this will be a common (though varying in quality) motif of the entire series.

“BITCH YOU THOUGHT WE WAS GUNNA EAT AFTER THAT FUCKIN’ WISECRACK ABOUT GETTING SHOCKED LIKE YOU’RE EVEN FUCKIN’ NIKOLAI TESLA ALL UP IN HERE WE’RE GONNA ELECTRIC SLIDE YOUR ASS TO NEXT WEEK”

“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK”

“WHERE THE FUUUUUUUCK IS HIBIKI?!”

“i was gonna invite her to the circus with the rest of the class ‘cause i felt bad about how i treated her but i guess she’s not here”

“the only clown im interested in is hibiki, in the carnival tent of my own bedroom”

“isn’t being a part of /fit/ great, hibiki? can you just feel the gains?”

“yeah who needs doting wife based significant others when you have your gym bros, right newly acquired father figure?”

Hibiki, having acquired a new brain cell during her training, asks the million dollar question:

“Why the fuck are we relying on schoolgirls to deal with all this stuff?”

“anime just be that way, hibiki. i’m just the wrong protagonist in the wrong show.”

Japan is super big on keeping the Symphogear a secret because they are strong and the world really, really wants a slice of the Symphogear pie. These people are basically walking super-weapons. Tsubasa literally dropped a sword the size of a skyscraper. It’s like the premise of the series of Iron Man films.

“do i get like a superhero name too or”

Something to wrap your head around. This was released around 2012, and while the setting seems to be slightly more futuristic, the world it was made in at the time had not been through the era of social media/smartphones we have right now. It was on the cusp of doing so, which means the idea of decent (yet vertical) amateur footage of things happening wasn’t something in the mainstream yet. Why do I say this?

Because in Symphogear, the fact that Symphogear exist is the biggest open secret in this unidentified city ever. NDAs are passed like hotcakes to keep people’s mouths shut on seeing monster-fighting singing superheroes. And they sing, too! Symphogears as an entity are the most high-profile fighting agents out there. Bright colors, no masks, constant singing, fighting in broad daylight in populated areas. Everybody knows, but no one says a word.

Which means every politician on the face of Japan hates these idiots, but they’re stuck with them out of sheer necessity.

“i swear to god if you bring up sam reimi’s spiderman one more goddamned time”

“look it’s the truth, all anime comes back to sam reimi’s spiderman. fate zero did it. uhhh, fucking...baccano, probably? now us. face it. its pretty much the bible.”

It’s also pointed out that the very concept of a Symphogear is born from a science that didn’t exist, and it probably contributes to political frustration as well.

“im going to microwave all your sam reimi spiderman dvds. im gonna do it. you try me, motherfucker. i didnt go into acting and get into this position to hear lectures about a decades old film franchise nobody cares about anymore.”

“can we stop fighting about the validity of sam reimi’s spiderman for five seconds and get back to helping me thing of a dope as hell superhero name? now, lemme lay one on you: Mister Fister”

Hibiki asks where Code Ryoko is.

“any answer besides Not Here works”

“oh, she left to talk to the americans, why?”

“huh, shes sorta late, actually”

“WHY A BAD BITCH LIKE ME GOTTA GET STUCK IN TRAFFIC LIKE THIS”

In the mother of all Mom Vans, no less.

MEANWHILE... IN METAPHOR LIMBO...

Tsubasa has reached the sea floor of the water metaphor dimension surrounded by water, which is her feelings, which are very gay. Imagine the Mariana Trench but like, deeper. Way deeper. That’s where Tsubasa is.

Leave it to Kazanari “I am literally a sword” Tsubasa to successfully spin the very act of surviving a suicidal move during combat as a failure. That’s a special kind of self loathing right there.

“the sheer force of my love for big ladies is keeping me alive”

Tsubasa asks about the point of Kanade’s sacrifice. Why’d she do it? Why was she so hungry at the end?

She personally shows up to answer that question, because that’s Kanade for you.

“being badass is cool, but you know whats cooler? caring.”

“sharing the sauce... you... you shared the sauce...”

“thats right, tsubasa. i wanted to protect the sauce, but... ultimately... sharing it was better. it wasn’t my sauce, tsubasa. it was everyone’s...”

“im gonna suck on a ketchup packet in your memory, tsubasa”

Kanade’s spirit pulls her out of the dimension of water metaphors as she is slowly undrowning from her emotions.

Tsubasa, like Kanade, was lost in the sauce. But now, after Kanade’s touching peptalk, Tsubasa is lost no longer.

“will i ever see you again in my dreams, kanade...?”

“where there’s a sauce. i’ll be there.”

“ill eat taco bell every day just to see you again kanade”

“and i dont even like taco bell... im more of a chipotle girl...”

After accepting Taco Bell as her lord and savior, she is immediately pulled out of the metaphor zone.

And wakes the fuck up.

“b..... b..... b............”

“Baja Blast....”

[ghostbustermelanieking]

praescitum chapter eleven, part two

chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter six, chapter seven, chapter eight, chapter nine, chapter ten, chapter eleven pt 1

casefile, season 10, season 11, 11x03 plus one. part of my series that i write as i rewatch the x files.

Summary: As Mulder and Scully adjust to their reassignment to the X-Files and working together in the wake of their separation, they find themselves investigating a small town and a ghost that apparently warns people of bad things to come.

note: a good portion of the scenes and dialogue from this chapter are taken directly from the episode "plus one." 

---

chapter eleven, pt. 2

Scully's second impression of Judy Poundstone is very different than the first; she finds her antagonistic this time, startlingly so. She remains coy about her potential involvement in Arkie's death, as well as her brother's involvement, but her response to the whole thing makes Scully think that she must be involved, somehow. She supposes that the autopsy will shed some light on that subject.

Before Scully leaves, Judy begins to sling insults in the same matter she slings her pudding. She clearly has an infatuation with Mulder, and suggests that he would forget all about Scully, that she doesn't know what Mulder sees in her. She calls her dried up, not even half a woman. Past the age where she can have children. It's silly and petty, it shouldn't bother her, but it does, when she thinks about what happened last week. Mulder deserves someone who is willing to come home to him, someone who will actually be there and tell him what they want, instead of being wishy-washy and detached. Maybe he really does deserve someone who would be able to give him more kids. She's never considered that possibility, with everything that's happened, but maybe that is something he wants.

She tries to ignore it. Swallows it back and goes to the local morgue to perform the autopsy. An examination of Arkie Seavers seems to contradict her theory from the night before, that Arkie had killed himself. If her conversation with Judy had her suspecting that, somehow, the Poundstones were involved in Arkie's death, this autopsy has her nearly certain. The angle of the strangulation wound suggests that Arkie couldn't have done it himself, as well as a lack of strain on the arm muscles. She finds tissue under his fingernails, like he'd tried to fight off his attacker, but when she runs the DNA test, she finds that it's a match for Arkie himself. So there's no telling if that's from the attack, some strange confirmation that Mulder's insistence of doppelgangers, or from an earlier incident. But she leaves the morgue fairly sure that Arkie Seavers didn't kill himself.

She goes back to the hotel from the morgue, surprised to find how quickly the day has passed. She hasn't heard from Mulder outside of a couple texts clarifying that he's talking to the families of the other recent victims, and so she picks up some dinner and heads back to the hotel.

Scully tries to relax, tries to focus on the case and banish thoughts of ghosts or of Mulder growing tired of her, but something in her can't shake the gloom of the last week. Somehow, it only seems to be getting worse; she can't loosen up, she can't let go of these things. She stands in front of the mirror as she unbuttons her blouse, her ring-less cross (she'd left it on the bedside table for some unknown reason) nestled against her collarbone, and all she can hear is Judy's voice as she looks at her reflection. She's a little disgusted with herself, for lingering on these meaningless words, for letting them bother her so much, but a part of her can't help it. Can't let it go.

She's still standing in front of the mirror when she hears a knock at the door. “Just a minute,” she calls out, rebuttoning a couple buttons, and crosses the room to open the door.

It's Mulder, in his side of the suite, leaning against the door with a degree of casualness. She hadn't even known he was back. “Hey,” he says. “What'd you find out, Scully?”

“That Dookie winging past your head sends a sharp message to your brain,” she says, reaching up to remove her earrings as she crosses the room.

“What message is that?” he asks, the tiniest bit of laughter in his voice.

She chuckles, too, holding both earrings in her hand. “To gather the other apes and make war on your dread enemy.” She sets them down next to her cell phone, next to the tiny good circle of her ring. She wonders if Mulder has noticed that she has it.

“I believe I'm in touch with that feeling, Scully,” he says.

“Really? Did you have Dookie flung at you, too?”

“Uh, figuratively,” he says, fully entering the room to stand by the table near the door. “By the queerest little man in the queerest little house.”

“I don't know, Mulder,” she says, sitting on the bed. “This Judy, she has some malign influence over these victims, and I'm at a loss to figure out what it is.”

“Yeah, I agree. There is some evil in the air, Scully,” says Mulder.

For a second, she almost knows what he's talking about, but she dismisses it immediately. “No, it's not evil—it's mental illness,” she says, almost more to reassure herself than him. “There's some kind of psychic transference.”

“I wouldn't rule out ghosts,” Mulder says.

“Well,” she says with a scoff, thinking of Willoughby, and all of that Specter nonsense that cannot possibly be real, “except for the fact that they don't exist?”

“Of course there are ghosts,” he says, as if to remind her that they’ve just recently been investigating just such a ghost.

She'd rather forget. “I mean, science has proven that the stimulation of the brain's left anterior insula is linked to the feeling of a sensed presence, and that repeated stimulation to an area of the left temporoparietal junction is what promotes the sense of a shadowy figure, collectively known as the Gastaut-Geschwind syndrome,” she says, still reassuring herself. Still justifying everything. What she kept hearing last night was Mulder, of course, and the other night at home can be explained by this, as well as the malfunctioning house. The shadow in the mirror. All of it has a rational explanation.

“Talk about flinging dookie,” he says, joking. And she should laugh, but the thought of Judy and that pudding takes her right back to that room. She sighs wearily; it's been a long week.

She’s saying it almost before she can think about it: “Mulder, do you think of me as old?”

“What?” he says, laughing gently. “Where is that coming from?”

“Well…” she starts, unsure of how to explain, as he comes to sit on the bed beside her.

“I mean, maybe in dog years. No,” he says comfortingly. “What are you… what are you talking about?”

“Well, a woman thinks about these things,” she says, very nearly sheepish. Certainly embarrassed.

“No, Scully, you're… You still got it going on, you…” He chuckles, a little awkwardly, so ridiculously sweet that it does make her feel better. Just a little better. “You still got some scoot in your boot,” he finishes.

She smiles warmly, genuinely. “I'm gonna boot you out of here,” she says, pushing gently at his shoulder, and he goes,  agreeable as she's ever seen him.

“Knock three times!” he calls over his shoulder as she closes the door behind him. She leans against it, the smile slipping away from her face. She misses him. She's been his partner again for two years now, she stays with him almost every week, and she still misses him. She doesn't know why she booted him out. For a second, she thinks about opening the door, asking him to come back.

She used to kick him out of her room in 2000, when their relationship was so new, and she would always open the door eventually, and he would always be waiting on the other side, leaning against the door jamb and smirking at her. She hears his footsteps across the floorboards on the other side, crossing the room.

Just because he's willing to reassure her doesn't mean that he wants to be in here with her. She's still scared, after everything. She sighs to herself wistfully, pushes off of the door and walks back to her bed.

She curls up on her side of the bed and falls asleep quickly, surprisingly quickly and surprisingly calmly. She sleeps well, and that is a shock, too, after the week she's had. When she wakes up, she is cold, lying on her stomach on his side of the bed.

---

The next morning, she and Mulder disperse to interview the Poundstone siblings again. Judy is calm again, feigning the same innocence as before, and claiming no memory of their last interaction. She refuses to stop playing Hangman with her brother, and Scully isn't sure how much sway those games actually have over those deaths, but she knows that they can't have no sway at all. Judy does offer her a solution—protection, she claims, in the form of bread pills she takes every morning. No medicinal power, but the nurses claim to take them to protect themselves. Scully can't bring herself to throw them away. She tucks them into her jacket pocket.

Arkie's lawyer shows up at their hotel, ranting about how he's being stalked by his double. Scully tells him that he is making it worse. “Your paranoia is only gonna feed on itself,” she says. “Y-You know that mass hysteria is just a symptom of fears run wild.” It's the kind of thing she's been telling herself ever since the sleepless nights, the paranoia and the hearing things began. Some small comfort.

Mulder advises him to take precautions to avoid the danger. They tell him to go home and lock his doors, and Mulder hands over his card. Scully tells him that it can't haunt him if he doesn't let it—more of the things she's been telling herself, but she means it sincerely.

As the lawyer leaves, Mulder says, “Like I said before, clearly there's a dark influence set loose in this town, Scully.”

He could be talking about Willoughby as easy as he's talking about this town, but this is the case they are on, and the case of the Willoughby Specter should hold no sway over that. “Well, by ‘dark influence,’ again, I presume you mean evil, Mulder,” says Scully. “But there is no such thing as evil. I mean, evil is a concept, like the Devil.”

“Oh, the Devil is a concept?” Mulder asks over his shoulder as he retrieves his keys from his car. “Certainly, that's not what they taught young Dana Katherine Scully in Sunday school, is it?”

“Well, I certainly believed in the literal Devil when I was a child,” she says as he closes his car door and turns back to her.

“So you don't believe that we, as humans, have dark sides that we sublimate or repress?”

“Well, while anyone with an imagination can entertain acting out violence or antisocial behavior, that doesn't mean that there's an evil twin lurking inside of us.”

“Speak for yourself, Scully,” he says. “And tell that to Chuck and Judy.”

“Chuck and Judy are mentally ill, Mulder,” she replies matter-of-factly.

“Explain how they're doing it,” he challenges her.

“I can't explain it,” she says, and he nods, a little smugly. “But,” she adds, “if you eliminate the impossible, whatever is remaining, even if improbable, must be the truth.”

“No sugar, Sherlock,” he retorts, his car alarm chirping.

“But I have to admit,” she says sheepishly, “I, uh, still sleep with my back to the door just in case the Devil comes in the night.” It's the closest she's willing to come to admitting what she's been going through. She locks her own car and heads towards the hotel.

“Can never be too careful,” Mulder says behind her, so quietly she almost misses it.

---

They order in a pizza and eat it in Mulder's side of the suite, where he's folded up the couch. They discuss the case, eating off of paper plates the way they used to when they were young and newly partners, and the way they've done dozens of times on cases in the past two years. It's companionable, sitting knee to knee in the couch, discussing dark forces and the possibility of patterns and the intentions of the Poundstone siblings. It feels familiar, easy, almost like nothing had ever happened last week. But they still depart to their separate rooms at the end of the night.

Scully is hoping for a peaceful night, like the night before, but of course she wouldn't be so lucky. She sleeps in snatches again, her spine crawling, jolting at the slightest sound. At one point, she's nearly asleep when she swears she hears someone behind her, and she rolls over in a panic only to find Mulder. She gasps a little with fading fear, rolls over and says, “Please, Mulder, you've got to quit scaring me like that.”

“Oh, I'd like to quit,” he says.

The reasoning doesn't need an explanation. Arkie Seavers's lawyer is dead.

They go to his home and find his head detached from his body, blood splattering the walls. Scully notes that while it's unlikely that a man could cut his own head off, it's not impossible. Mulder notes that the man was scared out of his mind. He clearly believes that this was not the work of suicide, and a small part of Scully is inclined to agree. Still, there is nothing more they can do tonight, and so they agree to head back to the hotel.

On their way out, as Scully is weaving through the crowd, she sees something strange, something impossible. Her own face in the nearby crowd, watching her. Glaring at her. She squints at the crowd in confusion, trying to get a better look, but someone briefly blocks her line of sight, and by the time they are gone, so is the face.

“You coming, Scully?” Mulder calls on the other side of the car, and she climbs it, silently repeating her former words to herself. It's paranoia, it's her imagination, it's some strange suggestion of her brain, but it isn't real. Maybe this is a manifestation of the things she was seeing at her house, or maybe this is something completely different, but it's not real.

When she and Mulder get back to the hotel, she crawls into her bed without bothering to turn the lights on, Mulder padding into the other room tiredly as they exchange their second good nights. She'd like to go back to sleep, to hopefully get some uninterrupted rest, but she's spooked. The image of her own face glaring at her hovers behind her eyelids, small noises are making her jump. She lays on her side away from the door, closes her eyes and tries to fall back asleep, but the dread won't leave her. She feels as if someone is standing over her shoulder, the way Mulder has been the last two times someone died. The feeling grows stronger, shiver up her spine, and she turns over in a panic, hoping she sees Mulder's face instead of her own. But there is nothing there.

She gasps in relief or in panic, rolling on to her back. She can't decide if she'd rather something be there, or nothing. Noises with nothing attached to them makes her panic instinctively, but she certainly doesn't want someone threatening to be there. She wishes Mulder was the one there this time, and he didn't have a crime scene for them to rush off to.

This is ridiculous. She's been jumpy for over a week now with no end, and she's tired of feeling this way. She thinks of that night when she thought she heard an intruder, when she reached for her phone to text Mulder, because she was afraid. This doesn't feel very different. She's on edge and admittedly a little frightened, and she doesn't want to be alone. So she won't be.

It's largely an impulse, but she's going to do it. She gets out of bed, walking across the room and opening the connecting door. Doesn't bother to announce herself because he hasn't before; call it revenge. He's lying on his side, on his side of the bed, back to the door; she stands behind him until he turns over, startled. “Oh,” he says good-naturedly. “Speak of the Devil.”

“I can't sleep, Mulder,” she says honestly.

“Oh. What's the problem?” He shifts in bed, turning to face her.

She sighs, reluctant, trying to decide how much she wants to explain. She settles for, “Something about this case is getting under my skin.”

“Well, we've had stranger cases, Scully,” he says, on his side facing her, his arm folded under his head.

“Can you hold me?” she asks, also completely on impulse. Without thinking. But she doesn't think it requires a lot of thought; it's what she wants. It's what she's wanted since that night she pulled away, that she didn't know how to ask for. She's spooked, and she's lonely, and this feels right, feels almost brave.  

She sees the briefest moment of hesitation, enough to strike wavering fear and embarrassment, before he says, “Yeah, I can do that,” and she wonders why she ever doubted him.

She climbs onto the rickety couch bed beside him, her back to his chest. He wraps his arms around her, easily because he's been doing it for over a decade, and it feels like home. She can't believe she's gone so long without this.

“What's gonna happen?” she says in a small, vulnerable voice, because suddenly all she can see is the bags she packed to move out, her rejections of Mulder in the past, telling herself it was just for a few months and that quickly turning into four years. She needs to know what their future is, what Mulder wants their future to be. If he even wants a future with her.

“What's gonna happen when?” Mulder asks sleepily from behind her.

“When we're old,” she says.

He scoffs out a laugh against her hair. “What do you mean ‘when?’”

She laughs a little, too, but the thought won't leave her. The uncertainties that have been plaguing her. “I mean… sooner or later, we're gonna retire, and…” she tries to explain.

“Hmm.” Mulder nudges her shoulder with her chin.

“... Are we gonna spend time together?” she finishes lamely.

“I'll come push your wheelchair with my wheelchair,” he murmurs, his nose brushing the corner of her eye.

She chuckles softly, says, “That's not what I mean.”

“Oh, I'll always be around, Scully,” he says, and a sudden warmth fills her from head to toe. “Offering bulletproof theories of genius that you fail to assail with your inadequate rationality.”

She scoffs out another laugh, pretending that she isn't incredibly relieved that she didn't screw this up. “And I'll always be around to prove you wrong,” she says, because she wants him to know. He hmms in response, and she adds, “Promise.”

He nestles closer, holding onto her tighter, and she'd love to just stay in this moment forever, here with the man she loves. But there is still that unsure part of herself, and she can't let it go. She needs to absolve herself of any uncertainties. “No, but that's not what I mean,” she continues.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

There is a long pause, a silence she spends considering if she even wants to ask him this, if she really wants to know the answer. She sighs a little, says gingerly, “What if you meet someone?” He shifts against her startledly, like she's caught him off guard, and she has no idea how to take it. She continues, “What if you meet someone… younger, who… wants to have kids?”

“Oh,” he says, “that's what you mean.” He still sounds so caught off guard, so shocked. He says, “Well… you could do the same. You could meet someone, and… have kids.”

She laughs a little at the thought, astonished. Uncertain as to whether or not he actually thinks that's a possibility, whether or not he knows what he means to her. “Mulder, that's not gonna happen,” she says.

“That's nonsense.” He nudges her a little.

“No, it's not,” she says firmly. “I'm… I'm at the end of that journey.”

“Do you want to have more kids?”

The question genuinely shocks her; she never expected to be having this conversation with Mulder. Not after William, not so late in life. “Well…” she says, hesitating, “... I would have liked to have had another one.” Because it's true; a long time ago, she always thought she'd have more than one. She always wanted a big family. And years later, it had gotten to the point where having another child seemed impossible, even immoral because of what happened with William, and she hadn't thought about it since. But in a different life…

“Mm,” Mulder hums quietly. “At the risk of sounding insensitive, what's stopping you?”

“Besides the fact that the first time was a miracle? And besides the fact that I don't have anyone to have one with even if I could?”

There's a long, pregnant (Excuse the pun, Scully thinks to herself almost bitterly) pause before Mulder finally speaks. “You're a woman of science,” he says.

She laughs softly at that. “Mulder,” she says, “sometimes I think the world is going to hell and that we're the only two people who can save it.” That's how it's always felt, almost since the beginning. The two of them against the world, always.

“The world is going to hell, Scully. The president working to bring down the FBI along with it.”

“What if we lose our jobs?” she says softly, wondering. Two years ago, she thought that this stint at the FBI would be brief, and now she can't imagine doing anything else. Working with anyone else.  

“Yeah.” He bumps his cheek against her shoulder, resting it there. “Then what would we do?”

There is another long pause, but this one feels full of possibility. She is here, and she is being held by her husband, and she Bt him with everything in her. She turns gently in his arms, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as Mulder's palm slides over her stomach. “We'll think of something,” she says.

She smiles more broadly at him, and he is smiling, too. His palm is so soft over her stomach, so warm, and she moves closer to him almost unconsciously. Reaches up with quivering fingertips and touches the side of his face. He’s watching her carefully, like he might scare her away. She kisses him first, cupping his face in her hands, soft and sweet and a little sloppy. He makes a small sound of pleased surprise, his hands sliding down to her hips, sliding under her shirt. He tugs her closer and she wraps herself around him, her arms folding tight around his neck.  “Are you sure…” she mumbles, purely out of caution.

He kisses her again in lieu of an answer. His hands fumbling, unbuttoning the buttons of her pajama shirt.

---

Afterwards, she falls asleep curled up against his shoulder, wrapped up in a sheet, springs bearing into her back. His arm against her back, his hands rubbing over the chilly tops of her feet. She goes to sleep warm, feeling calmer than she has in months. She can't believe she went so long without this.

She wakes up to something not unsimilar to chaos. Mulder in a panic, insisting he saw his doppelganger. She admits she saw her double, too, which only seems to spur him on. She tries to reassure him, to get him to calm down, but he seems bound and determined. He wants her to go and visit Judy, and she hardly sees a better solution to the issue, and so she goes.

She’s driving to the hospital when she sees it again: the unnerving sight of her own face from the rearview mirror. But this time, she is less unnerved. This time, she finds the whole thing a lot more annoying.

“My rational mind knows that you are only a… a manifest psychic ideation borne of latent hostility,” she tells the image firmly—maybe out of courage, but more likely out of pure irritation. She's tired of this, dark, menacing shapes over her shoulder. “Maybe Mulder was right, you're evil incarnate. It's all you are.”

She looks at the mirror again, and then swivels a bit to check for sure. The doppelganger is gone.

She breathes a small sigh of relief, of satisfaction. It's strange, but it feels like a triumph over whatever images and sounds have been tormenting her over the last week. Like a small victory. She feels better, like she's had some sort of adrenaline shot, stemming both from her discussion with Mulder and from this.

She drives the rest of the way to the hospital and finds Judy Poundstone dead on the floor of her hospital room. Unexplainably dead, considering they just saw her not five minutes ago, but Scully has an idea what has happened. She finds a game of Hangman on the floor; the answer is Chucky.

Across town, Mulder finds a similar scene after a scuffle with his doppelganger. Dead Chucky Poundstone. A game of Hangman reading Judith, and two more, older ones reading Mom and Dad.

---

Scully is packing up evidence in her half of the hotel room when Mulder enters, says, “So I was thinking maybe we could get a couple hours in before check out time?” She gives him a questioning look, and he continues innocently, “I'm just talking about getting some shut eye,” like she hadn't woken up in his bed this morning.

“I'm glad to hear that, Mulder,” she says carefully. A replica of their conversation the first night. They haven't talked about what happens now, she doesn't know what he wants from this.

“Yeah,” he says. “Uh… I guess I should hit the hay.”

She can't gauge his meaning, can't tell if they've fallen back into their old habits of saying things without really saying them. At times, she had thought they'd gotten past that; but then again, look at their last week. They've been veering away from the difficult subjects for years. It's why their relationship fell apart the first time, it's what keeps making it fall apart. “Okay,” she says.

“Yeah,” he says. “But you need anything, you just, uh, call me.”

She's tempted to just ask what it is he wants. But instead, she says, “I can't imagine that I will.” She feels somewhat safer, somewhat less paranoid, somewhat more capable. But she is still scared, too scared to ask him to stay. She is briefly, mildly disgusted with herself.

He nods a little at her, crosses the room and closes the door behind him. She keeps her eyes on the door, like it's going to open. Maybe. Maybe it will, maybe it won't. Maybe she should push through this part of her that's holding back, that's still hesitating. She couldn't imagine that she'd need anything, but then again. “But then again,” she mutters to herself, courage building inside of her, “it's not out of the realm of extreme possibility.”

She crosses to the door, opens it, and there he is. Leaning against the door like it's 2000 again. She smiles at him, can't help it. “Hi,” she says, maybe a little tentative. Maybe a little welcoming.

Mulder leans in this time, kisses her warmly. “Hi,” he mumbles against her mouth, and she laughs a little, somewhat in relief. She takes his hand and tugs him into the room, shutting the door behind him.

---

“I didn't mean it,” she says.

They're curled up in bed (a real bed, thank you very much), wrapped up in the comforter and silky sheet, Scully lying half on top of Mulder, and Mulder’s head half-pressed into her neck. He stirs slowly, his hair rubbing against her chin like a needy cat. “Didn't mean what?” he says with something of a nervous chuckle. Like he's scared she's going to take back everything she's said these past couple days.

She brushes her lips over his tousled hair, something warm building in her chest. “What I said the night we got back from New York,” she murmurs. “Or… the way I reacted.”

Mulder lifts his head, rumpled and sleepy, his eyes soft and gentle. “Oh, Scully,” he whispers, lifting a hand to stroke her hair back. “I'm the one who should be sorry. I said I wouldn't push you about moving back in, and then I…”

“No, Mulder. You shouldn't have to be sorry.” She tips her head forward until her forehead is against his. He slides his heavy palms up her hips, and she shivers, burrowing closer. “I… I've been indecisive,” she mutters. “I feel like I've lead you on.”

He shakes his head. “Never,” he says, and his nose bumps against hers as he leans in to kiss her on the mouth. “You've never led me on. Scully, I'd wait as long as necessary for you.”

Nearly embarrassed, nearly overwhelmed, she ducks her head until her face is against his shoulder. “You would?” she mumbles shyly, so quiet she almost hopes he doesn't hear.

“I waited seven years, didn't I?” he teases, nudging her side. Scully chuffs out a relieved laugh against his shoulder, and he kisses the top of her head. “I can wait a little longer,” he murmurs. “I would wait forever.”

She presses her forehead against his shoulder hard before drawing back to meet his eyes. “I don't want you to have to wait,” she says, surprisingly vulnerable, even to herself. Some uncertain emotion passes over his eyes, but he says nothing. He watches her, carefully, his face composed, trying not to show his cards. She reaches up with one hand to touch the side of his face. “I don't know if I'm… ready to come home yet,” she says softly. “But… I want to try again. With us.”

He says nothing. He says nothing, but she can feel the nervous thud of his heart against their ribs. She doesn't move her hand.

A smile breaks out over his face, slowly. He reaches up to cover her hand with his, and she intertwines their fingers.

---

They leave for home later that day. It seems so much more ridiculous now, that they drove here separately, considering everything—Scully thinks that right now, she'd love nothing more than a morning spent in the car with Mulder. But they did drive separately, and it seems like they'll have to drive back separately as well.

They're carrying their suitcases out to their various cars when Mulder catches Scully's hand in his, squeezes her fingers. “Let me buy you breakfast,” he says.

Her brow furrows, and she gives him a funny look. “Mulder, there is a free continental breakfast at the hotel,” she points out. “And it's closer to lunch time than breakfast.”

“Oh, those hotel breakfasts lose all the glamour and charm after the second or third morning.” He grins, nudging her hip with their tangled up hands. “Let me buy you breakfast, Scully.”

He's such a sap. She rolls her eyes and lets him buy her breakfast.

They meet at a restaurant outside of town, not wanting to tempt fate and stay there any longer. It's the type of greasy spoon they used to eat at a thousand times back in the day. Scully loves it. They sit in a booth catty-cornered to the wall that must be too small; their knees keep knocking together under the table.

They spend too long in the diner, drinking their coffee and arguing about nothing. At one point, Mulder jokingly suggests a game of Hangman, and she shoots him a look both of skepticism, and a reminder that he didn't seem too keen on the idea of Hangman the night before. She sketches out Tic-tac-toe on a napkin instead.

Just as she's winning her third round of the game, Mulder's phone beeps loudly on the table, vibrating hard enough to rattle his silverware. Scully gets a brief glimpse of the display as he scoops it up to check it. “Ryan Caruthers is still emailing you?”

“Snoop,” he says lightly, clicking on the email. “Yeah, the kid is nothing if not persistent. I figured I'd check the case report again while we're between cases.”

She bumps her knee against his. “I'll remind you that we have a report due to Skinner promptly,” she says, and he hums in response. She leans forward and catches a few lines of the email: Please keep looking into the case… I think they made a mistake… “Does he think that his uncle is innocent?” she asks.

“I'm not sure,” he says, setting his phone down. “I considered it, but the report seems to implicate Jared Caruthers pretty heavily… I looked at the autopsy report, but I'm horrible at that stuff.”

“Hmm.” Their knees knock together again. She takes a long sip of her coffee. “I could take a look at them for you, if you want.”

He grins, a little sheepishly. “Would you mind? I know it's not technically a case we're technically working on.”

In the back of her mind, part of her doesn't particularly want to deal with the case. But the rest of her is mentally chiding herself, telling herself that whatever happened to her in Willoughby was a long time ago, and it is time to let it go. It can't hurt her if she doesn't let it.

“Of course I'll take a look, Mulder,” she says. “Although we might want to save it for after hours, or when things are slow in the office. After Skinner got so upset the last time, we should probably hold off until there's an actual crime to investigate.”

“Hmm.” He grins again, wider this time. “You're probably right. We'll have to work late one of these nights.”

“Too bad,” she says lightly, like she hasn't worked late with Mulder a million times before.

“Oh, don't worry, Scully,” says Mulder. Their knees brush together again. “I'll take you to dinner first.”

---

Contacting the FBI was probably a dumb fucking idea, but Ryan didn't know what else to do. Doesn't know what else to do. These past couple years have felt like a downhill slide, ever since he started visiting Uncle Jared. Ever since other people started seeing the ghost again.

The thing is that it's been exhausting. The whole goddamn thing. He's spent weeks now digging into the murder of his parents, his one life-long nightmare. He's talked to people, tried to access crime scene reports, written Jared emails with questions that Jared tries to dodge answering. It gets exhausting, having to relive that over and over again.

But he can't stop. He knows he can't stop. It's getting worse.

It happens again one night. He's asleep, tangled up in his greasy sheets that he probably needs to wash, when he hears a loud banging sound. A slamming sound.

Ryan jolts awake, his teeth chattering. He's trying to get his bearings when he hears another bang, louder this time.

He groggily shoves the sheets aside and stumbles to his feet, purely on instinct. He's not even thinking about the ghost; he's thinking about his aunt, wondering if she's gotten back yet, wondering if she's okay. “Aunt Annie?” he calls blearily, pushing the door open.

There's no answer. The hallway is empty.

Ryan grits his teeth, shakes his head. It's becoming more obvious what's happening here. He slams his door hard, making sure to push at it so it clicks all the way shut. So it won't be easy openable. (He'd lock it, but the last time he did that, Annie panicked when she couldn't get the door open.) He pushes at the door with his shoulder a little for emphasis, and then turns back to his bed, intending to text Aunt Annie and see if she'll be home soon.

As soon as his back turns, he hears it: the sharp rattle of the doorknob.

He turns hard on his heel, hands held out in front of him like a pathetic imitation of a Jedi, like he's trying to protect himself. But the door doesn't open. It only rattles, as if someone was trying desperately to get it open.

Ryan stumbles back a few steps until his thighs hit the mattress of his bed, his hands lowering to his side. “Nice try!” he calls out, and ignores the way his voice quivers.

The doorknob doesn't stop rattling. The motion almost seems to increase, the cross hanging on the back of the door joining in, almost vibrating in place. Ryan bites down on his lip so hard it bleeds.

The rattling spreads from the door to the walls: the crosses he'd hung up there rattling too, the rosary beads he'd bought on eBay and dangled from the doorknob of his closet door clacking together like chattering teeth. The printouts he has of crosses from the Internet, that he taped up, go fluttering madly to the ground. His dresser starts shaking in place, the drawers banging back and forth; behind him, the bed starts to move, rattling up and down as if there was an earthquake. Ryan can nearly feel the vibrations beneath his feet.

He stumbles madly away from the bed, to the center of the room, and shouts indignantly for the mess to stop. But the chaos continues, all the furniture in his room being shaken by an invisible hand. A picture he taped the wall detaches and flies across the room, hitting him in the face; he hears another one ripping in half. His school books clatter off of his desk. The cup of water on his nightstand overturns on top of his digital clock. The pillows from his bed go flying, too, hit him in the face with more force than he ever would've expected from a pillow and knock him right on his ass.

“Fuck!” he yells, more surprised than anything, but it seems to be something of a trigger. The room freezes in place, like it's a movie someone paused. The pillows land on top of him, considerably lighter. The doorknob gives one last rattle, but it won't open. He didn't lock it, but he still knows (or maybe at this point he's just hoping) that it won't open.

Breathing hard, Ryan shifts on the ground, catching the photo from the wall under his leg. He picks it up carefully and sees that it's his parents’ wedding photo. It's unharmed, which he's grateful for, but it's hard to look at; their cheery smiles seem almost sinister in this context. Ryan stands and sets it on his bedspread.

The other photo, the one that ripped, is sitting on the bedspread, too. Ryan catches a glimpse of a black gown as he goes to pick it up and knows instantly what it is: the photo of his dad and Annie and Jared at Annie's high school graduation. Annie doesn't like that he has that up, but he's never taken it down, and she hasn't said anything since he first put it up. Ryan winces when he sees the rip, winces harder when he sees where the rip is.

The larger half still shows his dad and Annie, their arms around each other, grinning into the camera. But the fingers held up in bunny ears behind Annie's square graduation cap are missing the rest of the person they belong to. When Ryan finds the other half, his fears are confirmed: his Uncle Jared has been ripped out of the picture.

A sudden scratching sound comes to life out in the hallway, one that Ryan has learned to recognize well in his sixteen years. The lighting of a match. The flickery flames are visible under the doorway, accompanied by the creaking footsteps of the ghost walking away.

It's getting stronger. This is the one phrase in Ryan's head: It's getting stronger.

He strides easily across the room, hands shaking in fear, and locks his door.

[dcarevu]

DCAU #20: Prophecy of Doom

“You gave him ten million dollars, sir? And to think I was fretting over the electric bill…”

Hey, guys, so lemme tell you about the craziest thing that just happened to me. There I was, dressed in my cloak at the DCAU brotherhood meeting. And the leader of the brotherhood, Nospoilerz, looked right at me and said, “You! Young man! You are in graAaAve danger! I see disappointment! I see pain! I see misery and woe!” I left the place scoffing to myself, not believing one word of it. But then I turned on Prophecy of Doom and I realized that this guy actually may have known what he was talking about.

Episode: 19 Robin: No Writers: Sean Catherine Derek (teleplay), Dennis Marks (Story) Director: Frank Paur Animator: Akom Airdate: October 6, 1992 Grade: D

Am I being too generous with that D? Because this is definitely my second-least favorite episode so far. It’s another Sean Catherine Derek/AKOM “classic” from season 1, and this just goes to show that sometimes reading the episode credits is all you need to do… Sigh… Bruce Timm himself has made certain remarks about both of these creative forces, citing AKOM as a subpar studio, and Sean Catherine Derek as a writer that would always try to throw in a big message, but could never really make it work in practice. We saw this in The Forgotten with the subject of homelessness, and we see it here again with the fortune teller who is actually just scamming people out of all their money. Yeah, she didn’t write the story of this one, only the script and such, but her fingerprints are all over the place when you break out the powder. Unless you’re a really good writer, a half-hour Batman show is just not a good way to get some of your important, socially-conscious messages across to the public. Who exactly wants to see that? Eric Radomski and Bruce Timm were going for a grim, crime-noir. Sean was pushing for a recycling bin and a god damn dog to be in the show, guys. I think recycling is as important as the next guy. And boy do I love a cute pupper. But this says a lot. Boy. Don’t you just wish that we got a whole episode about why we should should recycle? Just imagine how that woulda turned out.

We would see some of the “big, real world statements” taken on much later with Static Shock, and from what I understand, it often worked quite well. But this was after a lot of DCAU establishment. It also was a very different show than Batman TAS. Not to mention, well, Sean Catherine Derek wasn’t involved with Static Shock at all. I wish her no ill will, and I hope she’s happy writing for whoever she writes for nowadays, but the sooner these episodes we’re looking at leave her behind, the better. Reportedly, she clashed a lot with Bruce and Eric when it came to their visions for Batman the Animated Series, so overall I would say that she just was not meant to be part of this team, or wasn’t flexible enough to write stories that would suit this show.

I didn’t think he was legit until he showed me his kickass flyers!

Nostromos is the one-off villain of this episode, and I’m certainly not gonna be anxiously awaiting his return for a future episode. He’s a guy who supposedly has magic powers and the ability to read fortunes, but as we can tell from spending less than five minutes with him, he’s a big fraud. In this episode, it makes for some confusion as far as how we’re supposed to see and react to him. Mysterio from Marvel did this concept wayyy better because Mysterio was more frightening than this guy. At least back when I was a kid he was (yeah, I get it, he’s got a big bowl on his head)! With Nostromos, we, the audience, along with Bruce Wayne, are skeptical of him from the beginning, and the way he carries himself makes it really hard to feel threatened by him at all.

Top 10 DCAU guyliner material

“The vibrations are right for prophecy.” This guy offers a translation to a completely lost Bruce Wayne

“You are merely the eye trying to view itself!” explains Nostromos. Now this guy looks just as confused as Bruce is. 

Even after we come to the conclusion that he likely was responsible for the sinking of the gambling cruise ship. He’s just so silly and his plan is so uninteresting. And then we see that the other people involved in Nostromos’ brotherhood (a big group of rich/important people) are eating up every word that he spews out, and we get music cues and other moments that almost seem to try and make us take him seriously. It makes the people in this episode seem like absolute dimwitted fools, and how all of them managed to finesse their way to the top of the money tree with that kind of gullibility is beyond me. The tone is really mixed. And it continues to stay mixed throughout the entire episode. It’s just weird to see Batman, the strong creature of the night who always saves the day (not literally, saving the day at night sounds bonkers), be in any sort of danger, but then see everyone else being idiots and that the villain is just a big joke.

“You!!!” This was a pretty poor-looking shot, especially when you see it in movement. 

Bruce’s glass mysteriously shatters.

And what is Nostromos’ plan? Well, his main one is to basically convince the brotherhood that an economic crisis is right around the corner in order to get them to give him all of their money. Is that not the least creative place you could go with a crazy cult in a Batman episode? The least they could have done was made it so that Nostromos wants to kill Bruce for a specific, personal reason or something. Things do get a little bit crazier eventually, but in a way that’s almost as dull as everything else. Nostromos ties Ethan Clark’s (a friend of Bruce in this episode) daughter to this giant solar system display, where she is in danger of being crushed if another planet happens to collide with her.

Seems to me like he could have made things a little simpler if he had just threatened to shoot her.     

This sequence just doesn’t visually suck me in, nor did it with Char. She thought it could have looked a lot better, especially when it’s such a preposterous idea. The episode needs to do something for me to fall under the spell of the suspension of disbelief. It has been said that Akom just didn’t have the chops to animate this the way it was asked for. And trust me, I believe that. It hasn’t taken me long to understand the impact of Akom on Batman the Animated Series. But in my mind…even with proper transition from the storyboards to full motion, is this really a scene that I would have been asking for? Did I really want a conclusion where Batman jumps around on moving papier-mâché planets gone awry?

This is pretty much the best we got, folks

So yes, I do in fact agree with Char, this scene could have looked a lot better. But I also have to ask the writers whether or not this was even a good idea in the first place. And Nostromos causes the planets to spin all over the place, past their normal speeds, by beating on the control panel and breaking it. Why does whamming on a piece of technology not usually just shut off the technology? It always sends it off on a deadly rampage. By the end, Batman escapes, saving Clark’s daughter. And Nostromos gets caught by a stray planet from the spinning display as it lands on top of him.

Nostromos and his crazy plot are much like how Red Claw ended up being a few episodes back. Has potential, then does nothing worth remembering with it. Y’know, this episode also feels like a 70’s Scooby Doo episode. The villain seems like a Scooby Doo villain, has a Scooby Doo villain-esque plan, and even gets caught like one of Fred’s traps. And y’know how usually Fred’s traps are completely over the top, but ultimately the animation and everything keeps it pretty underwhelming? That was the whole climax to this one. It’s like Batman was Scooby Doo, wrecking the bad guy’s plan and managing to trap them. I really wish everyone on the Batman TAS team had known better by this point when it comes to what type of show they should have been writing. Clearly some of them were in on it, but not some of those stubborn ones. I get that it’s still season one, but this episodes wastes time. Instead, we could have gotten something much better in its pace. But these writers were here taking up staff slots, not trying their hardest to produce a really good Batman show. They were too focused on only pushing hard enough to create a typical Saturday morning cartoon show, or a show that displayed a moral, and it’s like, another show could be used for things like that. I think when Paul Dini or Alan Burnett wrote their episodes, they made it so damn evident that they were pouring their hearts into the scripts, and were actually trying to make something good, something they they would have wanted to see. They were giving the best to Batman that they could. This show was airing before I was born. And even if it were brand new, it wouldn’t make any sense to hold a grudge or anything on some of these earlier writers. The ones who didn’t utilize the potential of a Batman show like this. Because what these writers did was make the good episodes seem even better. Not every episode may have been ground-breaking in this series. But even with those which weren’t quite up to snuff, with those which didn’t elevate the animation landscape, we still got so many episodes that did, and they are why the cartoon is remembered as being so important, so influential, and so gosh-darned entertaining. Them, and Batman going, “Psyyyyychic energiiiees, Alfred”. I could listen to that on repeat.

One of our establishing shots of the episode, use for a prelude which ultimately doesn’t end up being all that significant for the story. But at least the jazz was nice!

I don’t believe that we ever actually get any confirmation as to whether or not Nostromos planted this. I’m surprised an episode like this didn’t take the extra step to spell it out for us.

Uh oh, don’t let the fish drown!

Ethan and Lisa Clark. Wonder if they’ll appear past this episode.

Total Scooby Doo villain vibes.

Here are the mugshots 

These keyboard sound effects, though. Let’s get some official Batman TAS ASMR.

Batman flees the falling elevator, not falling victim to Nostromos’ plot

This was a pretty shitty fight scene.

Were you even trying to avoid that swing, Batman? He even gave you some time to react before he swung!

This was a decent shot.

Kevin Conroy’s acting was a lot of fun here. He put a tremble into Bruce’s voice that we all know is Bruce faking, but that’s only because we know better!

The most disturbing moment of Batman TAS so far. This damn smile. Especially with the way his eyes move. And you’re telling me that Bruce couldn’t hold in this smile? It’s not like he saw the camera and knew we were watching. They shoulda had him wink right at us while they were at it.

Maybe the bit that saved this episode from an F

Or maybe it was specifically this ass shot. And you say you watch Batman for the plot.

This is the shot our climax ends on. Just take it in.

This one was harder to write for some reason. Could have something to do with the fact that I’m staying in some friends’ living room and sleeping on their couch with another person over spring break. Not to mention, I have to do a lot of this typing on the floor. But I hope it gave something worth reading regardless! Here’s to a smoother review for next time. They can’t all be winners. Much like the episodes themselves. 

Char’s grade: C

Next time: Feat of Clay (Part 1) Full episode list here!

[enbouton]

Better Call Saul Rewatch, Part 3/30: Reasonable Doubt Type Stuff

Nacho (Season 1, Episode 3)

Written by Thomas Schnauz / Directed by Terry McDonough

A metal container hinges open; someone tosses in two sets of keys, a pen, and then an enormous brick-type cellphone, signalling that this is the show’s first flashback. There’s a distinctive cool blue tint to this scene that’s consistent through all but a couple of the other flashbacks, and the lighting is even more polarised than usual. (Writing this, I just remembered the one time Breaking Bad used this specific flavour of colour and lighting: the early flashback to young Walt and Gretchen.)

It’s the early nineties. Chuck wears a three-piece suit (of course he does) and Jimmy, ostensibly about 28 or 29 here, sports jailhouse scrubs and an awful shag mullet. Credit to Bob Odenkirk for animating Jimmy in such a way that he does come across as much younger; he fidgets on the edge of his seat like a restless teenager, his emotions spilling everywhere.

Chuck informs us that Jimmy is not only facing property damage and assault charges but a potential place on the sex offender registry. (They did a good job holding back the payoff— what Jimmy actually did— until the end of the season.) Jimmy admits to being in “a bit of a pickle”, but insists that the charges are trumped up. It’s telling that while Jimmy clearly does admire and respect Chuck for his standing as a lawyer, he talks of the law solely in terms of “tricks”, “loopholes”, “technicalities”— as if all he needs to get out of trouble is for Chuck to apply the right cheat code.

As Jimmy squirms, Chuck mentions that it’s been five years since they last saw each other. According to Chuck, their mom called him after Jimmy called her from jail, crying and begging for help (Jimmy strenuously denies that last part). “I know I’m a lousy brother,” Jimmy says. “I’m a lousy brother, I’m a big screw-up... and if I was just a better person, I would not only stop letting you down, you know what? I’d stop letting me down. And it’s about time that I start to make both of us proud. Am I right?” 

Looking at Chuck’s face here, you get the sense that it barely matters what Jimmy does from this point on; even if Chuck did once have the capacity to feel proud of him, that ship has sailed.

Back in the present, Jimmy, not actively suffering for a change, helps himself to some cucumber water, which is both pleasing to look at and makes nice underwater sounds. 

He wears white in this scene, maybe indicating his attempt to make a fresh start and do the right thing. Credit where it’s due: Jimmy’s desire to warn the Kettlemans is genuinely altruistic, and he doesn’t stand to benefit from it at all.

Jimmy considers calling Nacho, then calls Kim, whose first instinct is to ask him if Chuck’s all right:

Jimmy: Yeah, Chuck... Chuck is Chuck. All right? Everything’s all right. I just wanted to call you. So, uh... hey. Whatcha doing?

Kim: Jimmy... no. I’m not talking dirty to you.

I love them and I love this conversation. This is how you establish intimacy! Jimmy promises nothing but “quality PG phone conversation, PG-13 at worst” and then steers the talk towards the Kettlemans; he gets all “gee, it sure would be bad if something were to happen to them!” with her, laying it on just thick enough to weird her out but not to make her concerned for their immediate safety. Plan A having failed, Jimmy tries Plan B, section I, “Warn The Kettlemans While Disguising My Voice”, then section II, “Just Tell Them They’re In Danger Then Hang Up Very Fast”, and in the end they get the message (it helps that Nacho’s van is indeed lurking outside their house).

(Aside: the Kettlemans’ awful voicemail message is amazing. You just know they dress up in matching outfits for the annual family Christmas card.)

Next morning, Kim calls: the Kettlemans have gone missing, and Jimmy has neither the cash nor the stickers to leave the courthouse parking lot. Mike won’t budge, so Jimmy reaches into the booth, raises the boom himself, and drives off yelling “screw you, geezer!”; ah, the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

At the Kettleman home, Kim implores Jimmy to tell her why he said what he did; he looks torn, but tells her that he doesn’t know what happened. He drives to a payphone and leaves several breathless, desperate messages for Nacho, framed effectively in a mixture of tight close-ups and expansive wide shots (they make good use of that big blank wall behind him). There’s such a good long beat after Jimmy takes the hang-up call: high angle, city noise.

It turns out that the cops were already tracking Nacho, whose license plate was reported by one of the Kettlemans’ neighbours, so the scene culminates in Jimmy getting chased down an alley and arrested. Nacho assumes that Jimmy set him up (this episode is just rife with misunderstandings) and orders him to get him out, “or you’re a dead man”. Kim, Jimmy and the detectives head back to the Kettlemans’ house, where Kim pointedly tells Jimmy the names and ages of Craig and Betsy’s kids. Jimmy infers from the missing doll that Jojo wasn’t kidnapped, but the show doesn’t present the detectives as incompetent— they already noted that the doll was missing, and they’ve verified that the Kettlemans haven’t travelled. “If you run, everyone knows you’re guilty,” Jimmy insists, foreshadowing what will happen to him seven or eight years down the line.

Jimmy finally admits that he gave the Kettlemans an “anonymous” warning call, whereupon Kim delivers the deathless line, “Oh God, you didn’t… you didn’t do the sex robot voice, did you?” There is, as they say, a lot to unpack there, but the Kettlemans are still missing, so the conversation quickly moves on. Jimmy speeds back to the courthouse and gets arrested again after assaulting Mike, who has decided he doesn’t want his parking business any more.

There’s a glint of interest in Mike’s eye as Jimmy insists that the Kettlemans “took themselves”. He may not like Jimmy very much at this point, but he sees something in him worth paying attention to. Declining to press charges, he tells Jimmy a story about a man back home who disappeared and was found hiding two doors down from where he lived. “Nobody wants to leave home,” Mike says. Yet he’s very far from home; so is Jimmy; so is Kim. (So is Gus, more so than any other character.) The multiple meanings of home, and what it means to be alienated from a place you are tied to in the past or the present, are some of the most interesting themes explored in BrBa and BCS.

Jimmy goes back to the Kettleman home, deduces that they’ve gone camping, and plunges into the Sandia foothills to track them down. The shots in this montage do well to establish just how far he’s hiking and how sweaty and miserable he is in his suit and loafers. 

Around nightfall, his efforts are rewarded: the family are right where he guessed they’d be, and so is their loot. Jimmy and Betsy tussle over the bag, a seam splits, and hundreds of stacks of cash come tumbling out. For a moment, it looks like Craig and Betsy will be forced to reckon with reality.

Misc.

Jimmy corners DDA Oakley in the men’s room and browbeats him into accepting a deal for a client who “assaulted a cashier with a bottle of Kahlua”.

The “JPi” tag on the payphone also appears in Jesse’s house.

“I refuse to believe [you let me off because] you have something resembling a heart inside your body,” Jimmy tells Mike. “You’re not gonna have a heart inside your body in about five seconds,” Mike counters.

Anyone else get a very strong True Detective season 1 energy from these shots of Jimmy’s hike?

Timeframe: a single day in the first week of June, 2002. The flashback most likely takes place in the spring or summer of 1993 (in season 3, Howard says he’s known Jimmy almost ten years).

Music

“Find Out What’s Happening” by Bobby Bare (1968), as Jimmy tracks down the Kettlemans

References

“I knew I shoulda taken that left turn at Albuquerque” is an old Bugs Bunny catchphrase.

The Donner Party was a group of frontier travellers who set off for California from Wyoming in 1846 and got stranded in the Sierra Nevada after an ill-advised shortcut. Over half of the travellers died en route; some resorted to cannibalism to survive. 

Jimmy compares the detectives to Cagney and Lacey, the titular characters in the 1980s police procedural.

Mike talks about a Philadelphia bookie disappearing after the Super Bowl (Dallas Cowboys v. Pittsburgh Steelers). The Steelers won against the Cowboys in 1976 and 1979; the Cowboys won against the Steelers in 1996.

“Here’s Johnny!” is from Jack Nicholson’s character in The Shining (1980).

< PREVIOUS EPISODE: MIJO

> NEXT EPISODE: HERO

[queen-of-deans-booty]

All Hell Breaks Loose Part One- Part 3

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,932

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, language, angst, minor character death, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. If you’re a junkie for this sort of thing, then a tag list is the right thing for you! If you want to be a Queen, I’ll add you to that list too! Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

AHHHH This season is almost done!!!!! Just ONE more episode left! If you’ve been catching along with this series, this and the next episodes is what I wan to hear your thoughts on!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

You jolted up with a gasped, seeing how it was morning already. You were glad no one killed or tried to kill you in your sleep. You woke up to Jake screaming at you and Sam to wake up. You looked over at Sam to see him jolt awake from the nightmare he probably had.

“Sam! Y/N! Wake up! Ava is missing!” Jake said, his eyes wide. That got you and Sam right up and the three of you rushed outside to go find her.

“Y/N will come with me and Jake, just try and find her.” Sam ordered, splitting from Jake before he had a chance to say anything else. You followed Sam, looking in the other houses and buildings that littered the town.

“She isn’t here.” You said, giving up. There were so many buildings here, you doubted she went this far out.

“Okay, let’s go back.” Sam said, walking back to the barn where he agreed to meet Jake at. As you got closer, you head an ear-splitting scream that came from Ava. It seemed as if she was back at the barn already.

You and Sam rushed to the barn, busting in. You gasped in horror and grabbed at Sam’s arm from what you saw. Ava, crying her eyes out at the fact that Andy was now lying in a pool of his own blood, dead.

“Oh! Sam! I just found him like this!” Ava screamed dramatically, making you narrow your eyes at her.

“What the hell happened?” He demanded.

“I don’t know!” Her voice squeaked up a bit.

“Cut the bullshit act, Ava.” You said with a glare. She glared at you, taking a step towards you.

“Excuse me? Our friend is dead!”

“Friend? Sam, come on. She is being such a drama queen right now. I am an expert on fake crying and that, right there, was an example of this. She did this to Andy! She killed him!” You said, accusing her.

“How dare you think I did this!” Ava yelled at you.

“Come on, Y/N, I don’t think we should blame her.” Sam started to say.

“Sam, you know how good I am when it comes to lying. I know she is lying,” You said, looking at the window sill behind Sam and nodding. You pointed to it and made Sam look. “How else do you explain the break in the salt? Andy wouldn’t do it, not when he was always scared of what was happening.”

“You believe her, Sam?” Ava asked, scoffing.

“You know, she’s right. You’ve been here for five months. You’re the only one with all that time you can’t account for. Plus, that headache you got? Right when the demon got Lily.” Sam said, putting you behind him. Ava went from this scared, overdramatic girl to one who was laughing, wiping the tears from her face.

“I had you two going, though, didn’t I? Yeah, I’ve been here a long time. However, I was never alone. People just kept showing up. Children, like us who came in batches of three or four at a time.” She said with a smile.

“You killed them? All of them?” Sam asked, horrified.

“I’m the undefeated heavyweight champ.” Ava said, proudly.

“Oh, my God.” You muttered. If only looks could kill…

“I don’t think God had much to do with this, Y/N.”

“How could you?” Sam asked, shocked still.

“I had no choice. It's me or them. After a while, it was easy. It was even kind of fun. I just stopped fighting who we are, Sam. If you'd just quit your hand-wringing and open yourself up, you have no idea what you can do. The learning curve is so fast, it’s crazy, the switches that just flip in your brain. I can’t believe I started out just having dreams. Do you know what I can do now?”

“Control demons.” You said.

“Ah, you’re quick which is good. You aren’t going to make it out of here alive, Y/N. It’s either going to be me, Jake or Sam who will kill you and I can guarantee that.” She raised her hand and you looked behind you to see the cloud of black smoke come through the window again.

Before anything could happen, Jake came up behind Ava and grabbed her head, snapping her neck easily, killing her. The demonic smoke left back out the window, glad not to be controlled anymore. You gasped and watched as he dropped her body like it was nothing.

He looked up and stared at you, the evil glint you saw when you first met him was now back in his eyes.

“Sam, come on.” You said, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the barn. Jake chuckled and he followed you two, murder in his eyes.

“Jake, whatever you’re thinking, don’t. The demon is gone now. I think we can leave.” Sam said, seeing the look in his eyes. He had eyes for you but he wanted to murder you since it was what he was told to do.

“No, only one of us is making it out of here alive and it’s going to be me. But first, she needs to die. I had a vision of the Yellow-eyed Demon. He told me what needs to be done and I have to follow his orders or I will be the one to die and that isn’t happening.”

“No, Jake, you can’t listen to him. He lies, Y/N isn’t going to die. Neither of us will. We are going to get out here. We can kill that bastard together.” Sam tried to reason with him.

“How do I know you won’t turn on me?” He asked, unsure. You thought it would be best if you kept quiet, afraid of triggering something in him. He was already much stronger than you so it wouldn’t be a fair fight.

“We won’t, Jake.” You said very gently.

“I don’t know that.”

“Okay, look,” Sam said, taking the knife you found earlier and showed Jake, placing it on the ground to show some peace between the three of you. “Just come with us, Jake. Don’t play into his games. You’ll end up dead.”

After a moment or two, Jake nodded and placed his weapon on the ground next to Sam’s. You had a feeling this wasn’t over yet and that feeling proved to be true when Jake punched Sam. Jake, already being super duper strong, sent Sam flying through the air, crashing on the ground.

“Sam!” You yelled, glaring at Jake who was walking to you.

“You’re turn sweetheart. I’ll make it quick because you seem like a nice girl but this has to be done.” He said, getting closer to you. Panic surged through your veins and you didn’t know what to do. The weapons were behind Jake and Sam wasn’t much help right now. He will kill you if he got his hands on you.

You felt yourself panicking even more when he got closer and you shot your hands out to protect yourself. A burst of magic left your hands, hitting Jake right in the stomach, sending him toppling over. You gasped, thinking how you thought only anger or Dean being hurt would make this magic come out. But you guess panic will do the same thing.

Good to know.

You rushed to Sam, sliding on the ground when you got close enough to him. He groaned and looked at you, sitting up.

“Sam, we have to go.” You looked up to see and even more pissed off Jake come storming to you. He realized that he needed to get rid of Sam before he can get to you. You barely got Sam up on his feet when you felt the wind being knocked out of you.

Jake had used half of his strength to push you away from Sam, throwing in a few punches. Sam had enough of this and he punched back, fighting with Jake. You tried to catch your breath and you looked up to see Jake and Sam fighting, Jake winning.

You groaned and forced yourself to get on your feet, looking around until you spotted the weapons on the ground. You looked back at Jake and Sam, knowing Sam could hold his own for a while. You slowly moved to the weapons, keeping an eye on Jake who seemed to be too busy with Sam to even notice you.

You grabbed the iron rod that Jake carried instead of the knife. You didn’t want to kill him, no, just knock him out until you figured out what to do with him. You finally got enough air in your lungs to start running and when Sam looked like he had enough, you raised the rod, striking Jake on the head very hard.

You made sure not to kill him but he did go down, unconscious. You dropped the rod and then that’s when you heard it.

“Y/N! Sam!” You looked up and smiled when you saw Dean and your dad, with flashlights.

“Dean!” You were so glad he was okay. You grabbed Sam’s arm and put it over your shoulder to help him walk since he was weak from the beating he took.

“Dean! Bobby!” Sam said with a weak smile, slowly but surely walking closer to them.

“Sam! Y/N! Look out!” You only had enough time to turn your head to see Jake coming at you with the knife. Your eyes widened and you shoved Sam out of the way so he wouldn’t get hurt. You were going to use your magic but it was too late.

You froze when the blade of the knife sliced through your body, coming out the other end. You gasped and looked down, seeing the bloody tip of the blade that was right through your chest. Jake twisted the knife and you gurgled up blood as he pulled you closer.

“I told you, you weren’t leaving here alive.” He said before taking the blade out and running away.

“No!!!” Dean yelled, making a run for you as you fell to the ground and on your knees. You knew what was going to happen next but you weren’t sure if Dean or even Sam was ready for that. Dean slid to the ground in front of you, seeing how pale you looked.

He grabbed at your shirt, trying to get you to look at him but you could feel your life slipping away. Sam rushed and got up, not caring about himself as he checked your wound.

“Dean, it’s bad.” Sam said. Dean pressed his hand over your wound but the blood kept pouring out. You leaned forward in Dean’s arms, too weak to hold yourself up.

“Hey, Y/N, look at me, okay? It’s not that bad. Don’t listen to Sam. Y/N! Y/N, please look at me,” Dean said with tears in his eyes., You so badly wanted to look at him but you didn’t; couldn’t. “Don’t worry, we’re going to patch you right up. You’re going to be as good as new.” Dean touched your face but you were just on the brink of death. You watched as Bobby ran after Jake, leaving you alone with Sam and Dean.

“Dad…” You said as you took your last breath. Your body slumped forward in Dean’s arms as your eyes slid close, lying in Dean’s arms.

“No! No, no, no, no, no, Oh, God, Sammy! Sam! Do something! No!!!” Dean yelled, letting the tears fall freely. There was nothing Sam or even Dean could do now.

You were dead.

The Queens:

@maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith​ @mogaruke​ @whit85-blog​ @inlovewithbja​ @spn67-sister​ @kdfrqqg​ @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes​ @roxyspearing​ @supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose​ @cobrakai1967​ @essie1876​ @wishedworld​ @crispychrissy​ @laqueus-ludovicus​ @nostalgic-uncertainty​ @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel​ @potterhead1265​ @starswirlblitz​  @untitled39887​ @ta-n-ja​ @deans-fallen-angel-boy @scarletluvscas @notnaturalanahi​ @tahbehonest​ @stay-in--place​ @dreaminofdean @posiemax​ @donnaintx​ @mikey1822​ @alexandriajanae4​  @li-ssu​ @just-another-winchester​ @obsessivecompulsivespn​ @emoryhemsworth​ @newtospnfandom​ @mizzezm​  @goldenolaf25​ @jessikared97​ @wh1sp3r1ng-impala​ @charliebradbury1104​    @queen-of-moons-peace-out-bitches @becs-bunker​ @atc74​ @lemonchapstick​

The Dean Beans:

@akshi8278​ @mega-mrs-dean-winchester​ @winchesterandpie​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ @carribear31​ @tacklesackles​ @oreosatmidnight​ @not-naturalfangirl​ @missselinakitty​ @iam-a-cutiepie​  @kristendansmith​ @milo-winchester-4ever​ @jensenackesl​ @codyshany316​ @pheonyxstorm​ @helllonearth​ @juniorhuntersam​ @pouterpufftrain​ @ruprecht0420​ @shut-ur-face-and-get-in-the-car @carriemichelle2012​ @aubreystilinski​

Series Rewrite Junkies:

@helllonearth​ @amyisabellal​ @deanwnchstr​ @caseykitten6​ @quixoticcat​ @supernaturalblogging​ @notmoose45​ @crowleysminion​ @mina22​ @tahbehonest​ @hadleymcallister2177 @destielsangels​ @spnhybrid @oreosatmidnight​ @valerieshubin​ @seninjakitey​ @flyonlittlewinchester​ @aubreystilinski​ @rocketqueeens​  @emilygracespellins​ @earthtokace​

[dukeofriven]

Brevity Isn’t My Jam: Musings on Nerd Culture 2017 [An Adjuration for Compassion]

Watching the news flow out of SanDiego Comic Con I am realizing just how much Import Nerd Stuff there is that I used to watch but stopped caring about because it’s mediocre. It feels like 99% of what’s hip and mainstream in nerdom right now is stuff with great visuals, punchy dialogue, and no soul - bonus points for confusing cynicism and violence for mature storytelling. I stopped watching the Marvel Netflix TV shows after Daredevil Season 2 demonstrated that it had a lot to show about violence but nothing to say about it. I walked away from Game of Thrones a long time ago when I realized that great cinematography and great acting don’t make-up for a show whose real themes all end up being bleak, cynical, and rather juvenile - GoT smears a lot of mud on everything, but it’s a simulacrum of realism, not the real thing. Westworld? I enjoyed the first few episodes, but when I went away on a trip and came back the impetus to pick it back up again was gone. I knew what I’d get watching it: some pseudo-serious philosophic musing intercut with bloody violence and titivating nudity that in the end don’t actually mean anything.

It’s not that any of these shows are bad per-se - but they’re not great, either. They’re fine. They’re okay. It feels like the entire scope of Nerdom industries is just... biding it’s time, waiting for something to effect actual change, while everything else just sort of continues on, like Bilbo aging with the ring of power. HBO-esque blood dramas look and feel like this, super hero movies look and feel like that, indie hits all bleed into another. It’s why I watch a lot of cartoon shows - it’s like they’re ten years ahead on finding post-modern deconstructed narratives played-out. They’re not afraid to be sincere in their emotions, they’re not afraid to experiment in truly unusual ways. They’re not afraid to be kind. I struggle a lot with kindness. As an often-bullied, thinks-he’s-so-smart hey-there-faggot sort of kid, sarcasm and irony were my tools of survival, the shows I enjoyed often as sarcastic and ironic as I was - or, like with MST3K, a celebration of heckling itself.* But for irony to have any meaning it has to have some kind of sincerity to bounce off of, just as a deconstruction needs a construction to be a reflection of. What’s GoT a deconstruction of, exactly - Lord of the Rings? Our nearest filmic touchstone is the Jackson movies, which - like GoT’s - were incredibly violent. The biggest difference, besides their postive-versus-cynical tone, is that LOTR has far less female characters, but doesn’t treat them so brutally or disposable. Is that really what we needed in our lives? “Man LOTR was all-right but what it lacked was violence against women, especially sexual violence. And tiddies. I hope someone with an extremely dim view of humanity comes along and rectifies that on TV”** It was hip to be cynical when your reference point for fantasy films was 1985′s Legend and saccharine Disney flickers, but almost every fantasy film since Shrek has felt the need to acknowledge within the text that the conventions of fantasy are unrealistic: every fantasy movie seems to feel the need to reassure its audience that it knows better than to be a fantasy movie. Shrek came out in 2001, which means no teenager alive came of age in a time when animated movies didn’t have someone hanging a lampshade on the conventions of the genre and winking at the camera. In others words, none of them came up in a world experiencing any of those lamp-shaded conventions our cynical, deconstructive media is skewering in the first place. (Also, no one under 20 remembers the merchandizing world that existed pre-Pokémon, which blows my goddamn mind.) What has all that wink-and-a-nod cynicism done to our psyches? Preserved ironic teenaged detachment well into adulthood, certainly, which is possibly the only reason something so ridiculously juvenile as Frank Miller’s take on Batman can be enjoying such a renaissance. My point, which I’ve largely let drift away from me here, is that it is very hard to be kind when your instinct is to be cutting - to get a laugh from the crowd by bringing someone down rather than raise them up. The impulse to wander over into the AvClub and treat everyone to my rapier wit about how their crummy show sure likes stacking up the bodies is a strong one, but what’s that get me? I want to be kinder. I want to be better at it. For the time being if you hit my particular buttons (like defending your right to use noxious fabric softeners that can be smelt a block away and make scent-sensitive people physically ill) I’m going to get riled up and pissy - but I don’t want to be. There’s a Vonnegut quote, good for any occasion 

“Hello babies. Welcome to Earth. It's hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It's round and wet and crowded. On the outside, babies, you've got a hundred years here. There's only one rule that I know of, babies-"God damn it, you've got to be kind.” that I wish was more in circulation. Take a look at the crop of today’s nerdy properties and what binds most of them together is the shared belief that kindness is so rare as to be miraculous. A brief, unexpected respite from the awfulness that is the default human existence is almost unbelievable to the rational mind. Kindness is the exception, not the rule - left to their own devices the people of Westworld will abuse robots with no thought to morality. The Fates in Westros do nothing but punish the hubris of anyone who acts with honourable intentions. Don’t know what is happening on Marvel TV, but it probably involves a lot of slow punching, corrupt politicians, and the most fleeting reprieve from grinding, eternal despair. The real world is awful enough as it is right now without all of our media feeling the need to double-down and reinforce the air of cynicism and disheartenment; nobody finishes an episode of The Walking Dead and feels upbeat about the future. I’m not asking for endlessly cheerful propaganda, but in the bad times our media should reflect the best of us, just as in good times it should check the hubris of gilded tunnel vision. Modern Nerd media has vey little to say about the modern: it merely holds up a mirror to the real world to reflect its worst elements. I get that every day from the news - I’d like my stories to be a little different. I’d like a world where ‘Cruel to Be Kind’ is only a great Nick Lowe song, not a mantra that demands that our only heroes be as morally compromised as our current crop of political leaders. I’m tired of a media landscape that tells me that kindness is a rarity: I want a landscape that repeats the opposite over and over until people stop thinking the former is true and start finding kindness in unexpected places - such as within themselves. The most adult movie ever made has no gore and no brutal violence against women in the name of realism or verisimilitude. It’s called My Dinner With Andre, where two theatre people sit and eat dinner for an hour-and-a-half and talk about the nature of happiness and spirituality. They talk about what it means to be human - and not a single horde of zombies needs to make an appearance for either of them to make their respective points. I don’t need GoT or The Walking Dead to be nothing but people having mature conversations - but I would like to kill the notion that watching people be awful to each other is some kind of profound or meaningful insight. It’s not anything but a choice the show made: the world is not inherently horrible just because it is in Game of Thrones. I’d like to kill the notion that kindness is a unicorn, and that stories are better when compassion is rationed and withheld from the audience (because they would find a surfeit unrealistic.)

If nothing else, I’d like to end the notion that the best way to wind-down after a miserable day is to watch five nominally different TV shows that all have the same story: people are miserable and are capable of nothing but creating more misery.

_______________ *This is not entirely fair: outside of some real atrocious stinkers like Monster-A-Go-Go. MST3K always had an affectionate love for the cheesy movies it was showing; its humour rarely came from a place of malice or cruelty. That is why I prefer it to Rifftrax, which often comes-off as three grumpy old men getting cranky about having to watch a film that has people under the age of sixty in it.

**More than once George R.R. Martin has compared his works to LOTR, and every time has shown a remarkably poor understanding of LOTR, to the point that if you told me he hadn’t engaged with the work since he was fifteen I would nod my head and go ‘yeah that’s obvious.’

[implexadyth]

How the PLL Finale Retroactively Ruined the Show

This was honestly the most baffling series finale I have ever seen, and that includes (yes, really) the finale to How I Met Your Mother. Let me break it down for you, and explain exactly why it is so mind-bogglingly terrible.

 ~From opening credits to the 40-minute mark: random filler dream sequences, pointless cameos, and fan-fiction lip service smut, the latter of which might have made sense if they hadn’t inserted about fifty sex scenes into the previous two episodes as well. 

Then came what was arguably the best scene of the episode, Twincer mimicking Spencer as she wakes up in her high-tech underground bunker, complete with fake atmosphere and nature, built in a year under the entire town of Rosewood via a single entrance below a private house by contractors who didn’t care about bylaws, zoning restrictions, or the need to provide silent heavy machinery that can be condensed into the size of a doorframe to be reconstructed inside Toby’s house in order to complete their job. Awesome! I thought that was a neat way to introduce the twincer concept, with the mirror imaging. My optimism for the episode rises slightly.

The Spencer-twin theory was the one I was predicting would be brought to the table, so I was gratified to be correct. I’d seen interviews with I. Marlene King where she said she’d read correct theories online, and I’ve read (and constructed!) some very complex ones that would have tied together most of the series, so at this point, my impatience brought on by the complete waste of my time creating a 2-hour finale was dissolving.

Oh man, was I in for it! BLIMEY!

               I’m entirely baffled by the rest of the finale, save for Mona’s ending, which was hilarious if not completely logical (let’s be honest, we all suspend our logic somewhat when watching this show. We have to.) But the A.D. reveal? The only explanation for the way they built Alex Drake’s backstory is that somehow they deliberately conceived of a character whose existence could create an explanation for 90% of the plotholes of the entire 7 seasons, give the show a deeper meaning, and give reason to the fact that multiple random people seem to want to torture a specific handful of (admittedly thoughtless and sometimes downright idiotic) suburban highschoolers-turned-grownups in a game of Pass The Torture Baton ….and then said, hey, fuck it! That’d be too easy; let’s actually go to MORE effort to give her a backstory that not only has raging plotholes of its own, but retroactively ruins the CeCe reveal (which was culturally insensitive in and of itself, but let’s not even go there).

How does this retroactively ruin the CeCe reveal, you ask? Not sure why you would, but let’s indulge. If CeCe was having this sisterly relationship with Alex since she left for France, which was canonically taking place after the girls killed Shana in New York, then why was CeCe’s obsession with Alison? Alison, homecoming queen, must reconcile with my sister Alison! Pictures of Alison all over my lairs, and the dollhouse is so I can bring a homecoming for my sister Alison, and I’m going to leave lots of clues about my origins with the DiLaurentis family. Except I already found a true sister in Europe, and my other actual biological sister is Spencer, but fuck her, because for some reason, the Hastings are TERRIBLE PEOPLE, Alex, just trust me (*cough cough* pot, kettle, black *cough cough*).

Aside from the fact that I don’t understand why Charlotte would have a particular vendetta against Spencer, at least enough to tell Alex that she needs to stay away from her, the timeline also makes no sense. If, as Alex says, Wren and Melissa were already broken up by the time she met him, which was obviously before she met Charlotte, since he introduced them, then the scene with Hanna and Melissa in London makes no sense. How could Hanna run into Melissa in London DURING the five-year time jump, with them conversing about how Melissa and Wren recently broke up, if they were already broken up for good before the dollhouse episodes occurred?

Of course, this is only one of many, many gaping holes (phrasing) in this incredibly condensed half-finale reveal. Many people have said, “it’s Pretty Little Liars! Stop thinking it through so much.” And I’m like, “yes, hello 2017, I realize that suspending disbelief and lowering your standards below ground level are basically a necessity for this brave new world, but somehow I still manage to press on with it.”

The reason that these lackluster explanations are so infuriating is two-fold. First, the show has historically managed to weave complex concepts and suspenseful plotlines, while dropping hints that are obscure and yet indicate the potential that the overall conclusion of the show could redeem the many failings it has. Second, and most importantly, it actually quite literally would have been EASIER to use the twin theory to retroactively explain the overall arc of the show in a satisfying way. At the moment that Alex says goodbye to Charlotte as she returns to the US and says she never saw her alive again, my friend and I paused the show (thank god I downloaded this illegally, I can’t imagine how I would have felt if I’d paid to watch that episode), and looked at each other in disbelief. Don’t worry, past self! It’ll only get more horrifyingly, entertainingly bad.

With the exception of episode 7x19, the entire seventh season was filler, and not even good filler. I convinced myself that it was because they were building up to a dramatic, shocking and satisfying finale. I also told myself I wasn’t going to be too optimistic, but clearly I was in serious, life-threatening denial. After suffering through an entire year consisting of 9 filler episodes and a lot of waiting, the entire deductive process of the main characters discovering A.D.’s identity can be summed up in two lines of dialogue (paraphrased): 

Toby: “you guys! A horse and Jenna told me Spencer isn’t herself! Also she gave me a book! She’s a twin, she’s evil! We have to get her!” 

Everyone else: “uhhh hang on we were engaging in illegal and grossly inappropriate investigation of our friends’ credit card statements and GPS tracking because he was mean and left our other friend at the altar! P.S. I still don’t understand why people always want to torture us! A twin, you say? TWINS RUN IN THEIR FAMILY! Say no more! Let’s hurry and get there before we run out of time in this finale, I swear there was a reason it was two hours long.”

I actually calculated the time that this scene took, and it was exactly one minute. From Toby arriving and spewing nonsense about Spencer’s book when they were asking about Ezra’s whereabouts, to them just accepting what wasn’t even presented as a theory, but a statement of fact based on the testimony of one of their sworn enemies, and a horse (this is so ridiculous, it bears repeating). Literally 60 effing seconds. I’m so glad they stayed true to the fans by indulging in their enjoyment of the process, of the deduction and clues that led to their discovery of villains or potential villains over the years.

Still not convinced? This isn’t enough lead-up? Don’t change the channel! Just wait! There’s more! We’ve got the most exhausted TV trope in history, the “which twin is the evil twin? Let’s ask a question only the REAL Spencer Hastings would know! Better hope the twin never read the book that she knew her doppelganger loved so much, despite the fact that she clearly spent months or years studying her as to effectively mimic her and be able to regurgitate specific bits of knowledge from her life or memories by rote, and also knew to give you the book in the first place. But oh wait, she didn’t even bother to make sure her copy looked like the original, so somehow she is omniscient and yet also lacks a keen eye for detail simultaneously.”

Mona’s ending was clever and satisfying, aside from the fact that they painted Mary Drake as an insane-yet-still-protective mother to Spencer, but then we were supposed to be happy about her eternal torture and misery at the hands of another mentally ill person. Aside from all the incredibly offensive lessons we’ve been taught by PLL about mental health issues, the Mona ending was somewhat fulfilling, and had they ended the finale there, I might have upgraded my evaluation of this episode from 0.0003/10 to 0.0005/10. But no, they had a group of the most awkward and untalented pre-teens regurgitate the exact script from the beginning of the pilot, a move so bewilderingly stupid, I don’t even understand how the executives gave this thing the green light. Who are these people, and why are they getting paid exponentially higher salaries than I am? What is most confusing about this is that I watched an interview with I. Marlene King where she was bursting with pride about this “full-circle moment” and couldn’t wait to reveal it to the fans. Did she actually watch the final edit of this thing? The only part of this that feels full-circle is the way it resembles a dog chasing its tail. Pointless, self-serving, and humorous in the most ridiculous way.

The most entertaining part of this entire experience is that they spent 7 years teaching their fans how to use social media and technology to harass people who have wronged them, and then completed their run by creating an ending that would instil the same emotions into those people. Good luck with that! (N.B.: I do not endorse this in any way. I mean that truly; you deserve better than to waste any more time or effort on this show, or anyone who had a hand in crafting that ending).

               Personally, I’ll end this with my relatively simplistic alternate explanation/ending that would have circumvented all of this bullshit, then sigh a breath of relief at the catharsis that is walking away from all those wasted hours of my life. As an aside, I hope Troian Bellisario goes on to bigger and better things – her accent wasn’t great, but her acting was fantastic. You were the sole saving grace of this episode. In the meantime, I recommend to anyone who hasn’t watched the finale yet: pretend that 7x19 is the last episode, for your own sake. It has a decent ending, and while it doesn’t answer most of your questions, it doesn’t retroactively ruin the entire 7 seasons preceding it, either.

How it Actually Should Have Ended

-          “I’m your twin! Alex Drake!” *Spencer gasps in shock*.

-          “How is this possible?” The fans ask.

-          She tells her story:

-          I was adopted from Radley, but given back because by the time I could form memories, I was already too much of a rascal! I was raised in Radley under the name Bethany Young, and Alison lured me from the Sanitarium with the intention to kill me out of jealousy. I can make plans too, though! I convinced another patient with blond hair to come with me, and put her in the clothes Jessica gave me. She was buried by Melissa, who thought she was Alison. The same person who switched Alison’s dental records did the same for me, and also I found out my real name is Alex Drake. From then on, I was obsessed with getting revenge with not only Alison for plotting to kill me, but also the girls who let her get away with being such an abysmal person. As a bonus, one of them is my twin sister who had the luck of being born a minute before me, and therefore got a fabulously privileged life, while most of mine was spent in Radley. So I enlisted Mona and then Charlotte, whom I discovered to be my sister during my investigation of my family tree (and was lucky enough to be cooped up in Radley too! Double score on the background connections!) to help me get revenge on those I perceived to be the source of my own misery in life.

-          No? Too easy? I guess we’ll just have to insert a time-travelling paradox of a backstory to explain my existence, because otherwise our executive producer would have to actually re-watch some of the episodes before writing this finale. And that would be way, way too much work (considering the pittance I’m sure she’s paid) to create the ending to a show whose premise is the unraveling of a mystery. It’s okay, the show was insanely popular enough to give her more work in the future, no matter how badly she cratered the one episode that could have made the whole thing brilliant.

[wayward-marvel-sommer1196]

Mentally Unstable

Pairing: Jensen x reader (platonic till the end), Jared x reader (platonic)

Trigger warnings: mental illness, slight depression, anger outburst, language, very little spn canon violence, self loathing (I guess. Basically the reader doesn’t like herself), bad traffic (yes that’s a warning), reader being bitchy

Word Count: 3131

Summary: You wake instantly knowing you are going to have one of your “bad” days meaning your emotions are going to be a mess. Sure enough angry outburst start your day when you nearly kick the crap out of a guy in traffic and nearly bit off Jared and Jensen’s heads. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like this will be going away any time soon. How are you supposed to keep it hidden from people who are practically your family and how will this affect the major scenes you must shoot? That’s right you are an actress on Supernatural, but can you keep your emotion in check long enough to get through the day?

A/N: Hey y’all first I want to say I have no fucking Idea where this came from. It wasn’t planned at all. It’s basically word vomit on a page because I had a really crappy day in which some of the things in the story actually happened to me. So, I guess writing some fluffy J2 helped me get over my shitty day. I also wrote the reader based off myself in a way because these emotional issues are ones I face and today was one of the “bad” days for me. Literally wrote this between the times of 8pm and 4am so there’s barely any editing done and I apologize for any mistakes. Its currently 4:30 and I have no ambition to check. Any who, I know I had more to say but I forget, oh well enjoy. P.S. This is my first RPF so be easy on me please. As always feedback is appreciated and wanted and hate will not be tolerated.

***Italics are scenes being shot for the show***

“Damn it!!!!” You screamed as you burnt your hand on your hair straightener for the third time this morning. It was now 8 am and you had to be on set in an hour. You were barely half ready and it took you 45 minutes to get to set.

The whole morning just wasn’t going your way. From the moment you woke up you knew, just by the mood you were in, that it wasn’t going to be a particularly good day. You really didn’t need a cycle of bad days right now, but it looked like your head had other plans.

It started with your damn neighbors at 1 o’clock this morning banging on the walls and their furniture skidding across the floors. You could only assume they were fucking their brains out. However, their two hours of bliss really cut into your sleep time. If that wasn’t bad enough your alarm decided to not go off this morning. Which made you an hour late getting ready.

Now here you were hair half done, make up barely applied still in your PJ’s and having to leave in like 10 minutes.

“Fuck it!” you said as you threw the straightener down on the counter and through your hair in a messy bun. The little make up you had on, you wiped off and headed to your closet. Noticing all your jeans were dirty, you huffed and grabbed a pair of sweats, an oversized t-shirt, put your converse sneakers on, and grabbed your sunglasses to head out the door.

While driving to set, of course you’d have the good fortune to run into traffic. These idiots simply didn’t know how to drive. It was really starting to piss you off. Cars were weaving in and out of lanes, stopping abruptly, and paying no mind to anyone else around them.

“Are you fucking kidding. Thanks for cutting me off you idiot,” you shouted to the black Prius that decided it was ok for them to cut in front of you. This prompted them to flick you off after which you had to take a dozen deep breaths to stop yourself from getting out of your car and beating the shit out of them.

After the horrendous traffic, you finally made it to set at 9:05. Five minute late. You went to run to your trailer when you ran into a huge solid figure and fell on your ass muttering “Shit” to yourself.

“Hey there speed racer. Why the rush? Jensen said as he gave you a hand to help you up.

“Oh, you know running late,” you responded with a bit of anger in your tone.

“Damn (Y/N), you look like crap.”

“Why, thank you Jensen. That’s what every girl wants to here in the morning,” you said with a scowl on your face and a viciousness in your voice.

“That’s not what I meant. I mean- “

“Let me stop you there. I don’t have time for this right now. I have to drop my stuff off in my trailer and go to straight to hair and make up to get this mess figured out.”

“(Y/N), what’s up with you this morning. I’ve never seen you act this way before?”

“Having a bad morning,” and with that you turned away and went to your trailer.

That wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. You tended to go through periods of good days and periods of bad days. Your mental health was a bit unstable to say in the least. It’s been like this since you were in high school and you have just kind of dealt with it since then. Although, it’s been getting harder to hide. Usually your bad days started around hiatus or right before a long break, but now it’s happening more often during filming.

You had been working on Supernatural for two years now. You loved it. Your character’s name was Natasha and when she first met the boys it was right after the events of season 8, so the beginning of season 9. She was badass and could fight better than the boys most the time. However, she was a demon, which proved to be troublesome with Sam getting possessed by Gadreel and all. Her issue was she wanted the boys to cure her from being a demon. So, it led to an interesting story line.

Working with Jared, Jensen, Misha, and even Mark was the highlight of your life. You loved them like your family, hell they were your family. You didn’t have anyone else. Your parents died when you were young and you had no siblings so you were pretty much on your own. Until now. That’s what made keeping this secret so hard. The only person that knew was Jared and that was only because he caught you in the middle of a breakdown on one of your particularly bad days. He sat and talked with you telling you his experience with mental illness. You begged him not to tell a soul, and even though he disagreed with your choice he promised to keep your secret.

That brings us back to the present. You were in the hair and make up trailer, with Janine the stylist, with your hair just about done, when Jared walked in with a concerned look on his face.

“Hey (Y/N). How are you feeling this morning?” Jared asked.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” you replied with anger filling your voice.

“Easy there. Don’t bite my head off. Jensen came to me and said you acting a bit off and basically chewed him out. So, I thought I’d come check on you.”

“Sorry Jar, it’s just been a hell of a morning and I didn’t get much sleep.”

“And it’s one of your “bad” days.”

“Yeah that too. I’ll apologize to Jay later it’s just today I’m more off than usual. Like I’m tired, depressed, pissed, and annoyed all at once and it’s making my head spin.”

“I get it. You know I do. That’s I think you should tell the others, especially Jensen.”

“I can’t Jar.”

“Yes, you can. I did and actually helped a lot and still does.”

“I want to tell him and the others. I really do. I just…. I just don’t know.”

“Look, I think you should, but I’m not going to pressure you. It’s your choice. Do what’s best for you and that pretty little noggin of yours. Just know, I’m always here if you need to talk, no matter what.”

“Thanks Jar. Really, it means a lot.”

“Look, I heave to head back to set to finish a scene with Jensen, but at least think about it. Love ya. See you soon,” he said as he kissed the crown of your head, earning him a scowl from your hair artist, and out the door he went.

Janine finished your hair quite flawlessly considering what she had to work with and quickly applied your make up, Natasha didn’t wear much so it was always quick, and you headed to wardrobe.

For this episode, they had you back in your all black demon style. For a bit, there you were in relaxed jeans and a flannel like the guys, but this episode had you facing off with some old demon buddies. So, you had to look the part with the skinny leather biker pants, leather biker jacket, lace up combat boots, and even a bullet belt as if you couldn’t look any more badass. Despite the result of the outfit, which was always hot as hell, it was a major pain in the ass to put on. Leather tends not to cooperate or breathe, if you know what I mean. But, none the less it was now on and you headed to Stage 3 to do your scene with the boys.

“Hey (Y/N), about earlier, I’m sorry if I stepped on your toes. I didn’t mean t- “Jensen started to say but you cut him off.

“Don’t worry about it Jay. It’s good. Like I said it’s just been a really rough morning and you just caught me in a bad time that’s all,” you replied with a slight smile on your face.

“You feelin’ better now, (Y/N)?” Jared asked as he came running over.

“Yeah, a little. You, on the other hand, better be careful and not mess up that hair or you won’t be once Janine’s done with you.” Jared laughed shaking his head knowing you weren’t kidding. Janine would get so frustrated with him because he could never sit still for her to finish his hair and then 10 minutes later it was all messed up.

“Alright places people. We need to start the next scene. We’re wasting precious minutes here,” Bob singer shouted and you all ran to your marks. “And ACTION!”

“Look Dean, I know these guys. You could say we were chummy back in the day. I know how they operate,” Natasha said.

“Yeah, well, you were “chummy” back when you were still a demon, but now you’re not.”

“They don’t know that.”

“What do they think you’ve been up to?”

“Treason to the king maybe, but they’d never expect this. So, I just play the part. Act like I used to.”

“What happens when they throw their demon powers at you and realize you can’t throw back?”

“Then I fight. I haven’t lost my skills. And let’s not forget who kick both yours and Sammy’s ass just three days ago.”

“CUT!” Singer screamed. “(Y/N), sweetie, I need more emotion from you. Need more snark and that last line I need that famous snarky grin that you do so well.”

“Got it boss,” you quickly replied.

“Alright let’s pick up at ‘Then I fight…’ and ACTION!”

“Then I fight. I haven’t lost my skills. And let’s not forget who kick both yours and Sammy’s ass just three days ago.” You said nailing your grin.

“Yeah, well I still don’t like this plan. Too many unknowns. It’s dangerous.”

“DUHH!! It’s dangerous. Everything we do is dangerous. It’s the job. And since when do you care about unknowns? That’s like your calling card ignoring all the unknowns and kick down doors.”

“It’s not gonna be easy Tasha.”

“Never said it would be Dean-o.”

“You sure about this?”

“Yeah totally. Like 90% sure. OK like 85%. Maybe 70%. Stop me now it’s not getting any better.”

Just then Sam walked through the motel door and said, “There here.”

“CUT! Awesome job guys. Take five while we set up for the next scene,” Singer said.

“That was great (Y/N)!” Jensen said.

“Yeah you did good,” Jared agreed.

“Plus you look totally hot in all that leather so that helped,” Jensen said with a smirk on his face.

“Dude, really?” Jared said.

“For real Jay, I think your Dean is showing,” you said making both men laugh.

“You may be right, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true,” Jensen said.

“Well, Dean is a notorious liar, so is it?” you couldn’t help but smile at yourself for that one. Jared even gave you a half hug for that.

“I can’t win, can I?” Jensen sarcastically asked.

“Nope. It’s best you learn that know, Ackles. The woman always wins,” you responded. At that time, you were all being called back to set for the big demon fight scene. You weren’t going to lie, you were nervous. This scene had you doing a lot more stunts then you’ve done in the past. Also, you’ve never been on one of your “bad” days for a big fight scene so that just added to the problem.

You finished the fight scene, which took two hours longer to shoot than it should have. You kept messing up and making dumbass rookie mistakes. Every time you messed up you’d have to start over. With every screw up, it made you angrier and angrier at the same time depressing you. After a while Jared and Jensen started to goof off to try and make you feel better and while you appreciated the effort that only put you further behind and made you more upset. But, finally after 5 painstaking hours, yes 5, you finished and you were all fake bloody.

Next up was your emotional scene with the boys but more focused on Dean than Sam. You weren’t sure you were going to be able to get through it but you had no choice.

Natasha laid in the corner of the room, beaten, bloodied, unable to move. Dean went running towards her and laid her in his lap.

“Tasha, hey, come on, open your eyes,” Dean said.

“D-Dean,” Natasha sputtered. “Sometimes I wish I was still a demon. This would hurt a lot less,” Natasha said with a smile forming on her face.

“Really?? A joke? Right now? I don’t think this is a time for jokes Tasha.”

“Hey, lighten up will ya? It’s not like I haven’t died before. I mean technically I’m 540 years old. So- “Natasha started coughing up blood.

“That’s not funny. You’re human now. I knew this show down was a stupid idea. Look at you. I don’t even know where to press down because your bleeding from everywhere,” tears started to roll down Deans face. “What are we going to do without you? What am I going to do without you? I need you here.”

With those words coming out of Jensen’s mouth and the fake “real” tears pouring out of both of your eyes, you lost it. You don’t know what happened but your fake tears became real signaling the “bad” day intervening again. You couldn’t stop it so you got off Jensen and apologized to the rest of the cast and crew and ran to your trailer with the tears still flowing.

You were sat in the corner between the couch and TV with your legs folded to your chest, when you heard a knock on your door. “Not now Jay,” you said.

“It’s not Jensen, it’s me and I’m coming in,” Jared said as he entered your trailer and sat next to you. “What’s going on in that confusing head of yours?” he asked.

“That’s just it Jar, I have no fucking clue. And the fact that I have no clue makes it even worse.”

“I know but think something had to have set you off.”

“All I know is that I was looking into Jensen’s eyes as he was saying Dean’s words to Natasha and suddenly the fake tears weren’t so fake anymore.”

“That’s what I thought. I’m sure you’ve noticed, because I have, that these “bad” days, as you call them, are happening more frequently.” You just nodded your head. “Well, I’m thinking that the stress of keeping this a secret is what’s provoking it to happen more.”

“I guess that makes sense. But I just don’t understand how I go from majorly pissed of one moment to crying my eyes out the next.”

“That’s the human brain for ya sweetie. No one can really explain why it does what it does.”

“Your right. It’s just this fuck up of a day has had me reeling on edge and got in my head.”

“Happens to the best of us. So, you gonna tell him?” You nodded yes. “Good because he’s waiting outside. Jensen come in!”

You mouthed a thank you to Jared as he walked out the door and he gave you that ‘don’t mention it’ face he always does.

Jensen came and sat next to you. “What’s going on?” he kindly asked.

“Look Jay, there’s something you don’t know about me. Well more like a few somethings that have a lot to do with what going on with me.”

“I’m listening.”

“Well, when I was a kid my parents died so my grandparents took care of me and after a few months they started to notice a change in me. I guess losing my parents messed with my head so much that it kind of left me mentally unstable.”

“OK, what exactly does that mean?”

“It means that I have these periods of bad days and periods of good days. I’m usually able to keep them hidden from most, but lately it’s been happening more and I guess it got to be too much. Thus, the angry outbursts and out of nowhere crying.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Because I’m embarrassed by it and honestly its usually something that sends a person running for the hills. Anytime someone says ‘mental illness’ or ‘mentally unstable’ people assume the worst and actually make them worse. So, it’s always been in my best interest to keep it hidden.”

“I get it. But you do realize you are in the one place where no one would care? We would all support you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I just am ashamed I guess, but I can’t hold it back anymore because that’s making it worse.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. We all support you. I support you. It’s gonna take a lot more than a mental illness to send me running for the hills.”

“I really appreciate that Jay. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“No problem. And look you can come and talk to me anytime you need. Any hour of any day. Call if you must. I’ll pick up. Your health is more important.”

“Thank you.”

“Your welcome. But I have a question. How come Jared knew?”

“Because he found me in the middle of one of my break downs about 6 months back and I swore him to secrecy.”

“That sounds like you,” Jensen said with a smile on his face. “Now why don’t we go and finish this scene and kick it in the ass and then grab a couple beers to top the night off?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Jensen helped you off the ground ad you both returned to Stage 3 and knocked that scene out of the park. You both portrayed that raw emotion with such intensity it was hard to believe it wasn’t real. Those were Bob Singers words not yours. Turns out Natasha didn’t die, right before she drew her final breath Cas swooped in and healed her mostly because he still had a little wear and tear. But she lived and spoiler alert her and Dean ended up together. Many times that night, in fact, much to Sam’s annoyance. So, a good episode.

After that you did go out and get those beers with the guys and had a wonderful rest of the night. Cracking jokes telling stories, it was a hell of a time. Maybe a little too wonderful considering you woke up in Jensen’s bed with his t-shirt on and him wearing nothing but boxers. 

@jensen-jarpad 

[amorphousalien]

So, not that literally anyone cares, but here's the deal with that person that was harassing me all week. Waay back in the good ol days of mid 2015 (sarcasm, fuck 2015)- I was experiencing a lot of really intense, frequent Rick shifts that were making me near catatonically depressed and dissociated. After seeing the season 2 finale, they just got worse. So I opted to unfollow all the r/n/m blogs I was following, stay out of the tags, stop looking canonmates, etc pretty much everything but actually taking Rick off my kinlist because I wasn't coping with it well and I needed to take a break. I even put on several pages of my blog that I did not want /anyone/ kin from ric/kandmorty contacting me because at the time it was basically a trigger. Then I start getting messages fromsomeome kin with M/orty, asking to talk to me, compare memories, etc. I told them I didn't want to talk to anyone, that it was triggering, etc. I accidentally posted one of their asks publically instead of privately, because mobile sux, and wound up getting a slew of TERRIFYING messages from them saying shit like "How could you do this to me?? I trusted you!! You exposed us!! How could you do this why would you do this to us?? I'm going to have to delete my tumblr because of you, how could you do this, we trusted you!" I panicked, deleted the ask, apologized profusely, and was generally successfully guilt tripped into allowing this person to continue messaging me and probing me for information about my Rick kintype. For maybe 6 months, they continued talking to me. I would ignore them for as long as I could, but eventually caved and replied to them out of boredom or fear, or they'd send me a slew of guilt trippy messages apologizing for bothering me, saying they were such an awful person, they always did this, everyone hates them etc etc etc. After 6 months, I was accepted to Job Corps and told them I was leaving for school and would have no internet access until I graduated. About four months into school l, my parents bought me a phone and were paying for my service. I logged back into tumblr to find about twenty "Hey"s and "Hi"s and "Oh my god I'm so sorry I know you hate me I just don't know what to do I'm so awful I'm sorry for bothering you"s in my messages from them. I told them I was in school and wouldn't have time to message them very often. I wanted them to just leave me alone, but I didn't want to be outright mean and they weren't taking the hint that I didn't want to talk to them. Or maybe they were and that's why they'd send me that guilt trippy bullshit every few weeks. And unfortunately I was an anxious wreck having just escaped multiple physically, memtally, emotionally, and sexually abusive relationships at this point. So I was easily manipulated and desperate for friendship. Which they knew. I'd mentioned it briefly and had vented about it multiple times on my kin blog. Anywho. I came back from school after about 6 months. Tumblr had dome some weird update and I couldn't log into my account anymore (except from my ipad where I was still logged in). I remade my account and directed everyone to my new kin blog (this one). I'd kinda forgotten about them at this point, but when I remade my blog they started messaging me again. I was pretty worn down and still pretty desperate for friends. I was recovering from the depressive Rick shifts and started talking to them more and more about our canons, and eventually decided we were canonmates. By the time we'd 'known' each other for about a year, they'd mentioned to me multiple times that they were living in an abusive situation and needed to get out. Three things about that last sentence. 1. *Known: Our entire relationship was one of us (mostly them) messaging the other every few days, or even every couple of weeks, to say "Hey"-"Hi"-"How are you"-"Fine, you?"-"I'm ok" and then maybe they'd complain (extremely vaguely) about something going on at home. 2. Everything they said about their abuse was extremely vague. The most detail I could ever get was that the house they were living in was not being maintained and there was never any food. Which they blamed on their parents despite being a 20 year old adult. 3. I'd spent hours trying to give them help getting out. I looked up resource centers in their area, homeless shelters, disability, food stamps, offered to write their resume for them, etc etc etc. I was practically offering to do everything for them to get them on their feet, and they shot down my advice every single time. Around 11 months into our friendship, they told me they couldn't take being there anymore and they were going to run away. They didn't know where they were going, didn't care, kept talking about being homeless and living on the streets to get away from where they were now. So I told them to come to Colorado (where I live) so I could at least offer help in person. November of 2016, they bought a bus ticket and came to Colorado. I picked them up and took them to my apartment (a three bedroom townhouse I shared with three roommates. They were all upstairs, I lived in a sectioned off half-room behind the living room). At the time, I was working 40 hours a week at a thrift store making about 9$/h. This job was not only tearing my already chronically ill body apart, but was also causing weekly psychotic episodes and mental breakdowns. I was 3000$ in debt with my roommates. My rent was 400$/month and I was making maybe 700$/month. Even so. I was using all of my spare money feeding them, buying them a tracphone and service, toiletries, clothes, etc etc Despite how much I was spending on them, they were still asking for more food, expensive food, cigarettes, alcohol, and weed. And if I didn't say yes, they'd spiral into depressive episodes, hiding either in my room, the living room, or the bathroom, and cry. And then ask again twenty minutes later. Over. And over again. Until I said yes. They talked 24/7. Literally. 24/7. From the SECOND I came home from work til I went to bed. And frequently came into my room multiple times throughout the night to ask for cigarettes and weed. Despite the fact that I had to wake up at 6am for work. It got to the point where, despite being in constant physical pain and despite the mental break downs, I was volunteering for overtime at work every single day to afford to keep them fed and to just fucking avoid their non stop talking and guilt tripping. And this was not non stop conversing. It was non stop THEM talking. I didn't exist. I could not get a word in. They didn't expect me to reply except for an occasional "Isn't that funny/weird?" or "Do you ever do that that??". I basically clocked out mentally any time I was home. I wasn't a person to them. I was just expected to listen quietly to their thousand and one stories. I already made posts back when this started about what happened while they lived with me, so I'm not gonna go into any more detail. I don't remember most of it anyways. It was such an incredibly stressful point in my life, I developed a new alter in my system. I was rarely fronting. It was so bad, the alter that /never/ fronts, had to take over to deal with what was happening. This person has been stalking me from the second they found my blog, and five months after I kicked them out and blocked them, they're still stalking me. I had to install an ip tracker on my blog. They were checking my blog damn near 20 times a day and sending me 10 or more messages every day. I barely posted half of what I got. I was even so desperate as to text their mom to beg for help. I wanted this to end before it started. I never wanted to know them. I want nothing to do with them. I don't want to be dealing with this. I am an asocial agoraphobic shut-in. I don't want any part of this. I don't care what happens to them. I don't care what happens to Rain or Darcy or the 'KuroNekoClan'. All I was is for this to be over. I want to be left alone. I want to finish repressing everything about them. I want them to completely disappear from my memory. I have never hated nor been so terrified of someone as I am in regards to this person. I'm gonna go back to radio silence on this blog for a few more days just to be sure they're not still checking it. Everyone can still PM and I'll still reply to asks, but I'm not gonna be posting on here til I feel safe.

[fangsofsin]

Fang! Opinion on the pewdiepie shebang? You had such a well thought out opinion on the septiplier shenanigans, id love your thoughts on this... If you want

(The following opinion may not be your own and that is okay. If You wish to unfollow me for this, I understand and don’t hold you ill.)

I’ve been asked a few times to give myopinion on the whole thing with Felix and Disney and the slander. Ihaven’t said shit, though, because I was afraid – in the earlystate of all this happening – I wouldn’t be able to give a wellthought out and fair response. I’m very big on being fair. Or as fairas one can be about shit. Can’t do that for everything, I know… Butthis is Felix. I’ve been following him since 2010. He got me throughdepression in college. Hell he still does these days… I wanted tobe fair to him but also to what was going on. Because it’s not alight topic to just half-ass reply on. This isn’t some shipping warplayground war… This is a serious topic.

So I’ll give the most basic opinion onthis whole thing. Although you all know me. I’m a rambler. So just…Give me a little patience to explain my thoughts because they may getall over the place. And also know, yes, I know not a lot of peoplewill agree with me. If you have a differing opinion, cool. Share itwith me. Say what you feel. Be honest to me. Everyone is entitled totheir opinion. No matter how I feel against it, it’s their opinion.Opinions can change and grow. So I won’t judge you on that. So try togive me the same courtesy, okay? I like debates anyway. They’re agood way to get shit off your chest.

Anyway, lets start with me saying thatmy first initial response to everything was pretty superficial andpetty. I was mostly just made that Scare PewDiePie Season 2 was beingcanceled. I had been all prepared to get ready to buy YouTube Red atthe end of February so I could watch this without tracking down theepisodes like I had to do with season one. I huffed like a child anddidn’t take into account exactly why everything was getting canceled.I’m human. I can be selfish. And that’s what I was being… Then Ifound out exactly what the fuck was happening, and I was indistraught.

For those that don’t know what’s goingdown and what’s happening, I’m not going to explain everything that’shappening because it would take too long and fill up this post to belonger than I want it to be. But I highly suggest watching h3h3’svideo and Philip Defranco’s video on the whole ordeal (Linked for you. Seriously I would watch thesebefore you go on with this if you don’t know what I’m talking aboutat all). Or if you want more of a basic and outside opinion check outScarce and DramAlert. To get an opposing opinion on everything, checkout Casey Neistat. Seriously a lot of YouTubers are talking aboutthis.

So if you decided to watch all these,cool. If you get what’s going on already, then let me be to the pointand say that yes, I stand with Pewds but I’maware that he did mess up a bit. As I’ve said, I have to be fairabout this whole ordeal because this is a pretty big topic to notthink through. You can’t just gut jump this kinda thing.

I hadto do a lot of research into things as I was reading all the newsarticles and looking through the facts and opinions. I literallyspent a whole day off of work to research what I was being fed byeveryone. I don’t like to not be informed on shit. I like to know abit about what is going on before I jump throats. It’s why I neversaid anything during political debates because I didn’t want to soundlike an idiot ranting about something I didn’t look into. That’s justasking to be verbally smacked down.

Thepeople that are comparing Felix to Hitler… No. Just.. No Really?Why? Second, this whole thing is media manipulation and I know for afact everyone is far more aware of what the fuck that is since thebig media fight after the whole election cover and with fightingagainst the media manipulation of the Dakota Pipeline incident andeven the very obvious media scandal against the POC community! I knoweveryone knows that the media will stop at nothing to make a quickbuck by turning against someone to cover up another incident or evenbecause they were paid undercover of the public eye. I know we areway more aware than that, everyone.

Yetthat doesn’t seem to be the case this time. Pewds has been left as asacrificial lamb to the slaughter house and no one seems to beremembering that this is all happening at a rather convenient time.For awhile, the media was skimming away from Trump trouble – thepossibility of early impeachment coverage hasn’t been covered and Iwasn’t even aware of it until it was pointed out to me during mediaresearch. The Shay Carl incident – which is covered again by allthe above YouTube news coverage and can be found about in multiplearticles – has basically been forgotten. I mean I feel like that’sa little too convenient. Which, hey, it could just be acoincidence… But something about all this doesn’t seem like it is.All lines up too well.

Idon’t trust the media. I’ll say that now. I don’t trust the media andI have to do my own look into things. So everything I’m seeing beingsaid about Felix is just a bit fucked up. I’ve watched all thosevideos that they used to “point out how anti-Semitic” he is. Andthat’s not even right at all. Those clips are clearly edited andimposed with emotion jerking music to promote manipulation! Nevertrust everything on the internet! Rule number one they teach you whendoing research or just goofing around. That’s the first rule Ilearned in my early digital media classes in middle school.

It’slike people forget that manipulation is a thing. Also, to top thingsoff, how wrong is it that so many people were just happily willing tobe like “Oh it’s PewDiePie so it has to be accurate because I hatethat guy”… Seriously. Felix has the largest channel on YouTube.He’s basically the king of it… But he also has such a huge fuckinghate group too. So how fucked up was it that it was easy for peopleto just be like “Sure I buy that” and not even really listen orstop and thing? It’s like the best example of how easy it is forpeople to fall into media traps and that makes me cringe. Becausethat’s one reason Trump is our President right now. Media traps. AndI’m not ashamed to say that because it’s the truth. Hilary and Trumpwere put in Media traps and used media traps. Both did. Equallyfucked up.

TheThird Crusade, Hiter’s anti-Jew propaganda tactics with theholocaust, or the wiping out of over five hundred Jews during theearly 1900s because of false blame of Russia’s peasantry are examplesof extreme Antisemitism. An example of some that is anti-Semitic isHitler. Extremist skinheads are examples of someone anti-Semitic.Hell! Even Walt Disney himself is an example of someone withanti-Semitic behavior.

Thisis not Felix.

Now!Here’s something to keep in mind. Felix isn’t without theshit he’s done in the past that can be considered / is wrong.First off, examples of shit Felix has done in the past is drop theN-Word (Not a fan of that at all and I don’t forget he’s done that),made fun of people with serious disorders like turrets or downsyndrome (granted he was trying to be funny, but even I was like“Okay Felix you’re dragging this out” and “You went from FamilyGuy to Oh That’s Cringe, dude”), and using the term of Gay as a bitof an insult (That’s his much older videos and he fixed that up a bitbut it’s still pretty much there). And he’s even had the occasionalrude comment that can be taken pretty insensitive, on his Twitter. Soyeah, he’s said and wrote down some pretty wrong things. But he hasadmitted to them (Most. I’m not sure if that N-Word shit was coveredbecause I can’t find more on it, but I know it fucking happened) andhe has stepped away from messing in that area.

Thiswhole Fiverr thing is what started it. He set out to do anexperiment. He wanted to show the idiotic things people would say anddo for a quick buck. He was not expecting a response. Even in thevideo – the true video – you can tell he was very much in shockand disturbed by what he was seeing and hearing. That someoneactually went through with this kind of thing…

Itwas a joke, an experiment, that went down south real quick and it’svery obviously not what he was expecting to happen. And much of usjust saw this as a fucked up video and that it was proof that, yes,people will say and do shit for money like some kind of brainwasheddog on puppet strings. All for five damn dollars – I believe thatwas the amount anyway – these guys said and did these things. Ifanyone should be talked to, it’s also the people in the damn video.Not just Felix.

Now Ialso have to say that Felix is a giant – well known – publicfigure. My parents even know who he is, and they don’t watch YouTubeor even mess around on any social sight besides Facebook (my momdoes, dad refuses a FB). Kids in kindergarten know who he is. Thelittle kids I watched at my daycare have Brofist shirts and love him.He’s a well known face. Some even call him one of the faces ofYouTube next to iiSuperwomanii or Tyler Oakley.

Sowith that, yes. I feel like Felix does need to watch himself better.When you’re a public face like he is – like any of these YouTubers– you have eyes on you. You have people ready to string you up forthe execution gallows because of one wrong move. Because apparentlyit’s cool to hate and attack people. It sucks and it’s wrong, but atthe moment it is how it is. We live in a digital media where yourmistakes and fucks up are forever on display. Where you can dig intoanything if you know how and where to look.

PewDiePieis in the wrong for stupid shit he’s done in the past. But those donot defy him. If that’s the case, then every bad and horrible thingyou’ve ever said or done is who you are. No rules. You said somethinga bit racist in the past – even if you truly didn’t know it wasracist – doesn’t matter. According to this logic, you are nowforever a racist. You stole something when you were like six – apiece of candy or a sticker – you are now a thief by this logic. OrHell, say you got drunk one time in your life and made a dufus ofyourself – drunk dance on bar and fell off it or something – youare now forever a drunk because you pulled one stupid.

Thatis the way the world is acting. Felix has acknowledged the shit inthe past. He spoke up and admitted that, yeah, what he said in thepast was insensitive and wrong. He admitted it. And he stepped awayfrom a lot of it… But he’s a comedian, you guys. Hell I think hesaid it best in his video. He pushes the boundaries. THAT’S WHAT YOUDO AS A CONTENT CREATOR! You push to see what does and what does notwork. Obviously this didn’t fucking work for Felix. He learned.That’s that. That’s all it should be.

Andjust today, as I’m finishing typing this up for you, Mark posted avery important video. Now I agree with Mark to an extent. I’ll be thefirst to say that some things he said I kinda have to go “Ehhhh”because there’s a very black and white painted imagery around some ofthe stuff he’s saying and that’s not the case. There are gray areasin life and they do matter. You can’t be extreme one way or anotherwithout it eventually crossing over and becoming a gray spot.

Do Iagree that we are all humans and we all will fuck up? Yes. Do I alsoknow that even though we are humans and we fuck up, we still must beheld accountable for cases such as murder or rape or childpornography or etc etc? Yes. And as far as labeling people, yeah thatshit is obnoxious. It puts too much pressure on someone to be thisimage that has been slapped on them.

Istand with PewDiePie. I stand with the fact that he made an error.But I also am not ignorant enough not see that the media is straightup fucking with him and slandering him.The full proof is right out in the open for everyone to see. He saidwhat he said but he did not say it like they’re trying to play it as.I’m sorry, but as someone who has been in journalism and multimediaclasses, I can straight up say that this is slander all over it. Fakeand degrading news.

That’swhat I think about all this. I don’t agree with the fact the WSJ didthis. I think someone was trying to cover tracks and used Felix asthe lamb. I think it’s beautiful how much of the YouTube community isstanding with him and backing him up, even the YouTubers that don’tlike him. And I think the WSJ needs to be punished and needs to admitthat they lied and made this whole bullshit scandal out of thin air.

Now.If you don’t agree with me, talk to me. Don’t come at me with a rudeattitude. I’ll smile and look away. I don’t do rude anddisrespectful. Be an adult. Have an adult conversation with me. Tellme what you think and why. You may open my mind to something I didn’tthink about. There could be things I’m ignorant about. Enlighten me.Be a teacher. Teach me. I’ll listen. Fair and square.

[survivingjapan]

EPISODE 2 “Let Me Go Get Some Pants On” Junior

So Mist was the first boot, and I'm sittin here just thanking god that it wasn't me.  Now to slay only 24 other fools!

So that first round was SO MUCH FUN! So much happened and I love and adore each and every one of my tribemate <3 <3 oh fuck I'm not a hero Honestly, these people are very hard to talk to and everything feels forced, but thanks to Jonathan calling out Kage for his creepy stalking antics, I think I've made a new friend! Because all friendships are founded on hate for another person! <3 now im just hoping junior doesnt mcfuck up so that I get another day of relaxation

okay so everything is going well, I heckin love my mini alliance with Linus, Kage, Alex and Tommy. I mean I talk more to Alex and Kage but this alliance is cute and I am glad to be part of something so soon in the game. Hopefully this works out. Anyways, rn Junior and some Ashton guy are seeing how long they can stand. Will this challenge take 72 hours? Possibly. Do I believe in Junior? Of heckin course. 

So I am not the first honorary 26th placer or TS! However, I'm mad because we voted out a potential ally in Mist and it's all because Alex Crooks is being... himself. Like I'm starting to like him yeah but he's being too controlling over things. He got the Malaysians together with the Solomons minus Steffen but like. Why vote out Mist? I'm just getting a little frustrated because Pippa and Alex are like, becoming this horrifying power couple thing since they're both theater nerds and I'm like! Pippa! Game now dick later! If those 2 continue to control things then Crooks gotta go. Sorry Peepo <3 Anyway Ashton did THAT for us in this duels of duality thing so yay Ashton. I wanna keep him around as a number for myself so this is good, and now the lowest I can officially get is 24th :~) I just need Steffen out of here. But now Isaac is saying he would like Drew out more just because Steffen trusted him with the whole extra vote and I'm like okay? Whom care? He might trust you but this is what Steffen does every game. People just say oh we'll get him next time. Oh we'll get him next time. Oh we'll get him next time UNTIL it's like 10 more rounds in and then he fucks you over. So I'm not having it! Maybe I can plant little anti-Steffen seeds in people like Ashton, Trace, and Dom. Maybe Ruthie too depending on how close we think she is to Steffen. I just want to take the people out that I think will benefit me in the long run. And yes one of those people will be Drew, but I realize I'm being a hypocrite because Drew does the same thing Steffen does but right now we have a majority alliance with Drew so taking out Steffen over a number that will potentially hurt us if taken out seems like the better plan to me. Just.....saying...........

ASHTON I AM SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU! FROM BEING FIRST VOTED OUT TO SURVIVING THE FIRST VOTE TO CARRYING THE WHOLE TEAM TO IMMUNITY!!! Honestly, working with Ashton is one of my #1 goals in this game, and I'm happy we're safe, so I don't have to worry about tribal, especially considering tomorrow would've been a pretty tough day for me to worry about it. 

As for the twist, I don't think this twist is going to go on for TOO long, but if it does, and we merge without a tribe swap, I'd be shocked, but I feel that won't be the case, and I should be off of this tribe sooner rather than later to start making more connections and dominating more motherfuckers. :)

On 8/29/17, at 9:42 AM, Steffen Bøhn wrote: > so we had to pick a leader to rep the heroes tribe, I know I didn’t want to do it, so I suggested picking a name out of my cup, so I ripped up 3 papers and put the heroes names on it, but I ripped 1 paper smaller than the others and put Ashton’s name on it, so once it was mixed in I could tell which was his when I picked it

https://youtu.be/SQbfbMWJD4U

Are these people gonna vote out Brian over Pat? Like.... really? Pat has deadass done NOTHING this game so far. We are six days in and he has yet to send a single message to me or a good half of the villains tribe. Yet somehow Brian is a better person to boot over Pat. I'm like extra upset because I actually REALLY like Brian and I don't want him to go, but I also know that it's not my place to try and swing the vote the other way. If Pat stays, it's only going to make the silence more awkward. I don't need him here. He does nothing to benefit my game. Brian has been a friend to me ever since this game began. It's sad. Maybe it'll be for the better, but I knew I was gonna have to rely on making new friends to last in this game :/ having to vote one of them out this early is gonna suuuuck.

 welp junior just said it's Brian so may as well prepare to be up junior's ass all season since we're following his lead already. I'm fucking mad about life, mad I couldn't search for an idol for six whole days, mad that I'm losing the only person I fucking LIKED so far....... but I guess we have to look at the bigger picture. just bc I'm losing Brian doesn't mean that I don't have friends. I still have gotten close to Alex and Jonathan (who just messaged me "I'd rather do pat!!!!") (Aka I can go get fucked at this point) and I guess Kage and Junior, too. I'm all for blindsides. But I HATE having to vote out Brian. Sorry Zack :/

If anybody's having flashbacks to Arabia that's totally justified. So in a Skype call this morning, the alliance of five eventually, after much dilly-dallying, decided to target Pat. Wait, what?  They picked Brian?  What the fuck? That's...okay, fine.  We're targeting Brian.  Not Pat.  Who sucks.  Brian.  Who doesn't. Obviously I don't love this.  And on the one hand goddammit I SHOULD go for this. Buuuuuuuuuuut What if....I didn't What if......I didn't like how Kage was pitching secretly to split the votes between Pat and Brian and what if I didn't like that Kage gave Brian a bad location to search for the Idol and what if......I voted for Pat instead Hmm.  Thoughts. We'll see what happens.  There's still 90 minutes to go.  Anything could happen!

So after the awkwardness passed that we have to go to tribal, people gradually started to open the game talks and ultimately, although there was a minor conflict between Kage and Jonathan, the two targets seem to settle on Brian and Pat for their lack of social presence thus far And then someone along the way decided that it would be Brian leaving so it seemed to be going his direction but like.....I don't want to vote him? And I think others feel the same? So I started to voice that opinion to people (which was risky and maybe a mistake but i ain't scared) and it seems the tide might be turning (or already had turned and I just jumped on eagerly). If this vote goes against Pat instead of Brian I'll feel MUCH better...but I am putting myself out there by doing this and these are big villains so there might be another plot in the making...... sorry but I love my bf by proxy (thx Zack for donating him this season!) and I don't want to vote him out.....

earlier today i went to tommy bc i know he has connections and i wanted to plant the seed that me being here is in his own best interest so i was like look we're both the only winners here if one of us leaves the other is an automatic target and thats true.. but then cut to 5 hours later and this vote is a mess and i'm pissed bc i wasnt a part of ANY planning conversations about this vote so clearly thats a red flag! i've only been told second hand from people what "people" are saying and "i heard....." when its not like these things just come out of nowhere conversations were had and people came together to make these plans and throw out names of brian and pat and i wasnt a part of any of them so i hate everyone!! anyway tommy wants to vote out brian and i was like eh whatever ill do anything but then i start talking to other people and apparently more people are voting out pat??? idk the truth bc i dont have the relationships with people on this tribe to like know the full tea but it seems like more people are voting out pat right now so tommys asking me what im doing and im like look dude i think i might vote out pat and now tommys guilt tripping me [8/29/17, 8:27:55 PM] Tommy Shallow: :'( [8/29/17, 8:28:48 PM] Tommy Shallow: but I thought we were going to be in an alliance together lmao its kinda funny ahahahah anyway idk whats happening personally i think brian leaving would be better because we have gone against eachother in a couple games and i know hes close with steffen so he has connections on the other side vs pat the flop but on the other hand pat hasnt talked to me at all and if i vote with brian maybe that will be like hey we cool and im in the majority bc thats all i care about i just want to lay low but somehow im like caught in the middle bc people want me to do something even though it seems like the votes are set in stone

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f6KpNy00Yjk Second thing

Talking to Andrew about taking out Ruthie next, and I'm already proposing getting us to work with Steffen, which is good, and once I move to getting him to WANT to work with Trace and Dom, I'm almost settled in my ways of getting the people I trust on one side to trust the people I want to work with from the other side. I wouldn't mind staying in these tribes for awhile, because this means that I can take out a lot of people I don't wanna work with, and then once we swap, I know I can trust all the heroes going forward, and I can work on the villains. Divide and conquer man, divide and conquer..... Except I'm not dividing with anyone, it's just myself.

there's a new Jaiden in town... and his name is Kage Hamilton

RIP MY DUMBASS FOR SELF VOTING. Honestly I haven't had wifi all day and I feel bad for accidentally self voting but it doesn't seem like anyone really cares because in the end, Pat still went home. I mean which is good. However, once I came back to the land of the living, Jaiden was telling me about how Kage was basically making things hella stressful like an hour before the vote??? I mean our alliance was hoping to vote Brian so I assume that is what Kage was telling everyone. But apparently they would have none of it because everyone likes Brian. I am starting to think I may need to be careful as to what I say to that alliance, and make sure Kage or any of the other boys get the wrong idea of what I am planning. ALSO WHAT THE HECK, SARAH AND I JUST REALIZED THERE ARE ONLY 5 GIRLS ON THIS SEASON?!?!? LIKE WHAT?!?!! This is basically screaming an all girls alliance, you watch it happen. 

Well I've been majorly slacking with these confessionals lol but iM gonna take it all the way back to grade A robbery. Of course Judging is a subjective thing but idc the judges got it objectively wrong. It was simple, Our flag was there flag wasn't. I've got no idea how we lost that. So instantly my first thought after that is...Fuck me im getting francesca'd. First boot two times that'll be iconic i guess. Nobodies throwing out names until finally a mist crusade begins. I feel terrible for the guy. He just got fucked by moving on the same day. But when is this game ever fair. Mist goes unanimously all things are good. 

Literally minutes after Mist goes we have to get ready for a live challenge and choose 3 people to compete. Since everyone else are adults and i'm a no-life teen obviously I volunteer. The challenge starts we randomly choose our leader and Yay it's me. My enthusiasm dies however when I hear the challenge...Pressure Cooker. FUCK ME NOOOOO. I wasn't ready for this!! but I sucked it up and got in for the long haul. When the briberiea began I started to realize though that thing could be perfect for my game. It shows my loyalty by not accepting any of those fucking awesome advantages. And it shows I have fight for our tribe by standing up there for 2 and a half hours. I was ecstatic when I won and kind of just collapsed cuz my left leg was in a lot of pain. Everyone was co gratulatorio me which was a nice feeling. Basically Things are going great for me rn. My closest allies are Johnny and Tommy at this point i think. 

Kendall thought that Johnny was from India so she tried to rope him into an alliance with her, Alex C, him, and villains Sarah and Ashley. I'm shaking because he told me everything and basically (seemingly) trusts me completely. So my cracked ass tells Isaac everything and how we need to make a move on this and he's like we can't play this way. So I made a chart: http://prntscr.com/gern7w Me making this chart and talking to Isaac about it: https://pics.me.me/te-me-explaining-conspiracy-theories-to-my-friends-3324709.png So I'm gonna fuckin die and just put my explanation into a youtube video yeah