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afeef49160 · 3 years

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Movies that will inspire Acting students

Needless to say, observing other actors working at the top of their game is both an enjoyable and potentially inspirational activity, one which can provide insights that students may use to inform and improve their own acting skills. As actors, we are trained to observe carefully, to analyze every choice a fellow actor makes with meticulous attention.

But notice, too, that truly great performances inexorably draw you in. Ideally, they make you forget that you are watching a performance at all. When watching a powerhouse actor at work, we aren’t focused on their performance as an assemblage of conscious choices, but feel rather that we are witnessing a genuine person engaging in their private struggles and experiencing their own unique triumphs.

At its best, a superior performance will offer us a view of seemingly private moments, of spontaneous actions and reactions, of raw and unfiltered emotions. As an actor, of course, you know well that such performances are not in fact completely spontaneous and unfiltered. Rather, the accomplished actor makes specific choices and calls upon their past experiences, creating the illusion of true spontaneity. Here, I have assembled ten must-watch Hollywood movies out of the many thousands.

1. Dog Day Afternoon — Al Pacino

While his unforgettable role in 1971’s The Godfather arguably put Al Pacino’s star on the map, this riveting and tense film solidified his reputation as one of the greatest young actors of his generation.

Directed by the legendary Sidney Lumet, Dog Day Afternoon has been called one of the best bank robbery films in history. Pacino – who trained with Lee at the Actors Studio – tackles the challenging role of Sonny, an anti-establishment bank robber trying to save money for his partner’s gender reassignment surgery. In so doing, Pacino successfully delivers one of the most complex and compelling performances of his career.

2. Steel Magnolias — Sally Field

his classic hit from the ‘80s featured a stellar cast of new stars and acting veterans alike, including Daryl Hannah, Olympia Dukakis, Shirley MacClaine and Sally Field. Field, who trained with Lee Strasberg himself, received a Golden Globe nomination for Best Actress for her role as the matriarch at the center of an endearing and steely group of women.

Field has received countless awards for her work on screen – including two Academy Awards, three Primetime Emmys, and two Golden Globes – but her grief-stricken “I Wanna Know Why” speech in Steel Magnolias has been called one of the greatest film monologues of all time.

3. Marriage Story — Scarlett Johansson

This story of a marriage or rather, the dissolution of one feature powerhouse actor Scarlett Johansson and Adam Driver as a couple coming undone. At the 2020 Academy Awards, Johansson was recognized for her work in both Marriage Story and JoJo Rabbit.

She made history by becoming the eleventh actor in history to receive two nominations in the same year. If one Method Actor wasn’t enough, Marriage Story also stars Strasberg aluma Laura Dern, who walked away from the 2020 awards season with both the Oscar and the Golden Globe for Best Supporting Actress.

4. Blue Velvet — Laura Dern

If you finished Marriage Story wanting more from Laura Dern, you’re in luck. Dern has enjoyed a long and distinguished career in Hollywood with nearly sixty films under her belt and continues to delight audiences with ongoing projects.

With recent hits including Little Women and Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Blue Velvet is largely considered her breakthrough performance. While the film initially received a divided response due to its objectionable and violent content, it ultimately won David Lynch a nomination for Best Director at the Academy Awards. Since, Blue Velvet has become an American cult classic.

5. The Social Network — Armie Hammer

Born the year Blue Velvet premiered, Armie Hammer is an accomplished young actor who holds dozens of works on screen and two Broadway credits to his name. Of his many notable hits, The Social Network is the film that put Hammer on the map. In the film, a biographical drama about the invention of Facebook and subsequent lawsuits, Hammer plays not one but two characters – Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss, a pair of identical twins.

According to the Washington Post, “for 10 months of production, [Hammer] enlisted in twin boot camp, working with acting coach Cameron Thor to drill the subtle movements and speech patterns that the Winklevosses would have developed over two decades of genetic equality.” Now that’s dedication!

6. Pulp Fiction — Uma Thurman

Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction is yet another cult classic, starring John Travolta and LSTFI alumna Uma Thurman.

Thurman’s performance as Mia Wallace, an aspiring young actress, earned her a nomination for Best Supporting Actress at the 1994 Academy Awards – just one of the film’s 48 nominations from 11 different award shows. Film critics, fans and professionals alike have praised Thurman for her performance. A riveting and complex femma fatale, Mia Wallace is now considered one of the most iconic female film roles of all time.

7. Carrie — Sissy Spacek

Based on the Stephen King novel of the same name, Carrie follows a young woman struggling to come to grips with her untested supernatural powers. Now considered one of the greatest horror movies ever made, Carrie shocked audiences and brought Sissy Spacek wide acclaim.

Although she first received attention for her performance in Terrence Malick’s Badlands, Carrie – and its unforgettable bucket of blood – put Spacek on the proverbial map and earned her first nomination for Best Actress at the Academy Awards.

8. A Star Is Born — Lady Gaga

With three successful versions since the original A Star is Born in 1937, many accomplished actresses have tackled this film’s challenging leading role. Joining the ranks of Judy Garland and Barbra Steisand, Lady Gaga stars in the 2018 remake as Ally, a struggling singer who reaches stardom as her famous boyfriend loses his own place in the firmament.

The film made excellent use of Gaga’s powerful vocal abilities and touching vulnerability. Aside from her incredible career as a singer and performer, Lady Gaga studied at LSTFI and has made a name for herself as a successful actress in recent years as well.

9. Taxi Driver — Harvey Keitel

This gritty drama from the mid-‘70s featured a young Robert DeNiro and an even younger Jodie Foster. But it also starred Strasberg alum, Harvey Keitel. Keitel plays a ruthless pimp to Foster’s underage prostitute, and DeNiro’s character, Travis Bickle, ultimately engages in a gun battle with Keitel’s character.

Although his screen time is limited, Keitel has riveted audiences for decades since, in projects ranging from The Last Temptation of Christ (1988) to The Irishman (2019). For more than two decades, Keitel served as co-president of the Actor’s Studio.

10. Some Like It Hot — Marilyn Monroe

Considered one of the greatest comedies of all time, Some Like it Hot film features two men on the run, forced by circumstances to pose as young women in a traveling band. While the men do get their fair share of laughs, it was Marilyn Monroe, as a sweet singer named Sugar, who undoubtedly stole the show.

The men are caught in an intense competition for Sugar’s affection, all the while attempting to maintain their disguises as female band members. The 1959 comedy highlighted Monroe’s legendary charms, showcasing her not only as a “blonde bombshell” but as a skilled and technical comedic actress. The film was both a critical and commercial success – and won Monroe a Golden Globe for Best Actress!

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queen-of-deans-booty · 5 years

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Sex and Violence- Part 1

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,055

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

Darkness. Black everywhere you look. Wherever you are, you know you aren’t safe. Sam and Dean come to mind, but they are nowhere to be found.

“Sam! Dean!” you yelled, hoping to attract someone’s attention.

“Don’t bother. They aren’t here,” she said, making you roll your eyes in annoyance.

“Leave me alone!” you yelled, turning around to face Amara who just smiled at you. “I don’t want you here!”

“But, I’m already here.”

“No, no you’re not. Whatever you think you know about me, drop it. I will not let you use me. Just stay out of my head!”

“It’s the only way we can talk. The only way I know you’re safe.”

“Safe from what? Everyone is telling me to stay away from you!”

“Yes, my nephews and nieces do make it clear how much trouble I am. I can assure you, I’m not the bad guy here. Our bond is stronger than any force you know. I can protect you from where I am.”

“And where is that?” you asked as you threw your hands up in frustration.

“Somewhere far away. But even then, I can make sure you will live a long life, ready for me when I get out. The ties you have to me are thick, nothing can penetrate those walls. No magic in the world will ever be strong enough to take you down. No magic or force in the world will ever be able to break my wall of protection.

“Don’t you understand what is happening here? I am getting you prepared because a lot of fights are coming your way. You’re going to need me when the time comes. I am going to need you. Together, we can do anything. I need you ready for that.”

“Get out of my head!” you yelled, making her disappear.

Gasping awake, you heard the sound of a car honking in the distance. Due to your disturbance, Dean was also woken up who you had been sleeping under you. Looking around, you saw Sam’s bed already made but found him in the bathroom with the door half-open. He was talking on the phone in hushed whispers making you wonder who was on the other line.

Opening your mouth to speak, Dean placed his hand over it to silence you so he could hear what his brother was saying. It was no secret that Sam had been keeping things from you and his brother, and this might be able to tell you exactly what.

“Yeah, that's what I'm telling you. No storms, no bad crops, nothing… Yeah, okay. We'll keep looking. You keep looking too, OK?... Alright. Talk soon,” he said as he hung up. Dean quickly closed his eyes, pretending to never have woken up, and you do the same. If Sam was keeping something from you, then it must have been bad so you needed to figure it out before something bad happens.

Sam looked at you and his brother before exiting the bathroom, going over to your bed before sitting on his. He stared at you two before lightly slapping your leg before moving onto Dean’s.

“Hey. Up and at 'em,” he chuckled. Opening your eyes, you looked at Dean that held the same emotions as yours. As to not disturb the peace, you looked over at the clock before sitting up.

“You're up early. What are you doing?” Dean asked.

“Nothing. I was in the can.”

“Yeah?” you wondered in a slightly accusatory tone.

“Yeah. You want me to draw you a picture?”

“Nah, we’ll pass.”

“Found a job. Bedford, Iowa. Guy beat his wife's brains out with a meat tenderizer, and get this, third local inside two months to gank his wife. No priors on any of 'em, all happily married.”

“Sounds like Ozzie and Harriet,” Dean joked.

“More like The Shining,” Sam smirked.

“Alright, well I guess we'd better have a look,” you said before getting out of bed.

“Really? No pants?” Sam asked once he saw Dean’s shirt and cheeky panties that barely covered your ass.

“Like you’ve never seen this before,” you said as you snatched your clothes from on top of your duffel bag. Dean smirked as he checked you out, but his brother had a completely different look on his face. The only thing Sam hasn’t seen of you was your vagina, and he’s only seen your breasts because your towel slipped while he was in the room. Living with them 24/7, something was bound to slip up.

“Why does the PD keep sending you guys? I already said I don't want a lawyer,” Adam Benson, the guy who beat his wife, said with a scoff. Dressed like a lawyer, you decided to handle this one alone since it might be weird if three of them were to talk to this man. “I'm pleading guilty.”

“Alright, look, you don't want us to represent you, that's fine. In fact, it's probably not a bad idea, between you and me. I just want to understand what happened, that's all. Please, Mr. Benson.”

“What happened was, I killed my wife. You wanna know why? Because she made plans without asking me.”

“Now when it happened, how did you feel? Disoriented, out of control? Like something possessed you to do it?”

“I knew exactly what I was doing. I was crystal clear.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

“I don't know. I loved her. We were happy,” he sighed. Nodding, you took out some papers that might get him to talk more. Placing the credit card statement you got illegally, you showed him the $9,000 dollar charge he had.

“Nine G's. That's a hefty bill.”

“Where did you get that?”

“Doesn't matter, I have it. See, certain charges, ones you don't want the missus to know... they show up under shady names like 'M & C Entertainment'.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he still denied everything.

“No? Sounds to me like you were having some problems with your wife making plans without you because you were doing the same to her. You know, I’ve learned something in this line of work. When someone accuses you of something, they’re the ones usually doing what was accused. If you thought your wife was cheating, then that means you were doing the cheating. Get my drift?”

“Her name was Jasmine,” Adam said after a pause and a sigh. “I didn't mean for it to happen, I don't like to go to strip bars. My buddy was having a bachelor party, and there she was. She came right up to me. And, I don’t know, she was just... perfect. Everything that I wanted.”

“Well, you pay enough and anybody will be anything.”

“It wasn't about the money. It wasn't even about sex. It was... I don't know what it was. It's hard to explain.”

“And your wife found out?” you asked.

“No, she never had a clue.”

“Then why'd you kill her? Seems to me like you had a perfect life.”

“For Jasmine. She said we would be together forever. If... if only Vicki was...” he sighed, not able to finish the sentence. “Afterwards, me and Jasmine were supposed to meet and she never showed. I don't know where she lives, I don't know her last name, I don't even know her real first name! I'm an idiot.”

“And you didn't think to tell this to the cops?”

“What for? The stripper didn't do it, I did it. I know what I deserve. The judge doesn't give me the death sentence, I'll just do it myself.”

“Thanks for your time. My advice, if you can’t stay faithful, at least have the balls to leave,” you said before standing up. Adam just sighed as you walked out of the room before joining the brothers at the car.

“What did you find?” Dean asked once you were inside.

“Not any kind of possession, if that’s what you were thinking. He knew exactly what he was doing. He had an affair with some stripper named Jasmine who told him if they want to be together, he had to kill his wife and he did. When it came time to show up, she never did, and he turned himself in.”

“Brutal,” Sam sighed.

“Yeah, what did you two find out?”

“Dr. Cara Roberts is the one who did the autopsies on the wives. I say we go check her out.”

“Great,” you sighed, rubbing your hand over your face.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked as he started the car before pulling away from the parking lot.

“Just been having some not-so-good dreams lately,” you thought about Amara, but refused to tell the brothers about it.

“They’re just bad dreams, right?”

“Yeah, right,” you repeated that to yourself in your head a million times, trying to convince yourself that it was true.

Arriving at the hospital, you dropped Sam off to find out what Dr. Roberts knows before you two looked into the deaths of the other two wives, well their husbands. What you found out was what you expected, all of them found some way to get money to spend on the same strip club that Adam went to for reasons you still didn’t know.

After getting that information, you went back to the hospital to see what Sam found out. Before you could enter Cara’s office, Dean stopped you with a hand on your shoulders.

“What is it?”

“Are you sure they’re just nightmares?” he asked in a low voice. “That look on your face suggests it’s been going on for a while.”

“Dean, I promise you that they are. I guess with everything going on, I’m stressed which doesn’t come out in the form of rainbows and unicorns. I’m fine, honest,” you said before kissing his cheek. He had no choice but to believe you and hope that you were telling the truth.

Opening the door, you walked in what seemed to be an intense moment. The look on Sam’s face suggested that something other than the case was going on.

“What'd we miss?” Dean asked as you two stepped inside.

“Ahh, these are my partners, Agent Murdoch and Barnes.”

“Please, ‘Agent’ sounds so formal. You can call me Dean.”

“And I Y/N,” you said as she shook the hands of you and Dean.

“I'm Doctor Roberts,” she said before turning to Sam quickly. Raising your eyebrows, you thought someone had a crush on a certain brother. “So, um, can I help you with anything else?”

“Uhh, sure, just one more thing. This chemical Oxytocin, what would cause those high levels that you found?”

“Nothing that I've ever seen.”

“Okay, that’s it. Thanks, Doc,” Sam said with a smile. She returned it as you stood up, a smile on your face for them having chemistry. As you walked out the door, Sam stopped before addressing the doctor again. “By the way... try a greasy breakfast. The best thing for a hangover.”

“Watch it, buddy, I'm the only M.D. here,” she giggled. Sam nodded before leaving with you and Dean back to the car.

“What did you two find out?” Sam asked when you three were at a safe distance.

“Both men confessed to their crimes. Said the same exact thing as Adam did,” you explained.

“One emptied his IRA, the other, his kids' college fund, all on the same day,” Dean said as you exited the building.

“Live nude girls?”

“Yeah, at a club called 'The Honey Wagon'.”

“However, Jasmine wasn’t there all three times. Each time it was a different girl,” you sighed.

“So, what? These girls all connected somehow?”

“Well, they all described their stripper in the same way, the exact same way. Perfect, and everything that they wanted.”

“Yeah, at least until dream Barbie convinced them to murder their wives. You know, it's almost like they were under some kinda love spell.”

“Sure seems that way,” you agreed.

“Which caused them to become totally psychotic.”

“Absolutely,” Dean nodded with a smile.

“You seem pretty cheery.”

“Strippers, Sammy. Strippers. We're on an actual case involving strippers. Finally,” Dean laughed.

“What if I was a stripper?” you asked as you approached the car.

“Hot, but I don’t think that being a stripper suits you as much as hunting does,” Dean spoke the truth as you three got in.

Wanna get tagged? Add yourself to this document! If your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

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#supernatural fic #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fiction #dean x reader #dean fic #dean fanfiction #series rewrite #season 4 episode 14 #s4e14 #spn #supernatural

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declangraham · 5 years

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Finding Life- Declan Buchanan’s Timeline Playlist

Night by Ludivico Einaudi- (No Lyrics)

My Wish For You by Rascal Flatts- I hope the days come easy and the moments pass slow,/ And each road leads you where you wanna go,/ And if you're faced with a choice, and you have to choose,/ I hope you choose the one that means the most to you.

Weak and Powerless by A Perfect Circle- “Tilling my own grave to keep me level/ Jam another dragon down the hole/ Digging to the rhythm and the echo of a solitary siren/ One that pushes me along and leaves me so/ Desperate and ravenous/ I’m so weak and powerless over you.”

Stand in the Rain by Superchick- She never slows down./ She doesn't know why/ but she knows that when she's all alone,/ feels like its all coming down

Animal I have Become by Three Days Grace- Somebody help me tame this animal I have become/ And we believe it’s not the real me/ Somebody help me tame this animal

The Facade Fades by LYCIA- Everything fades/ As i decline/ This facade burns away/ And behind it all lies nothing but emptiness and pain

The Longer I Run by Peter Bradley Adams- The longer I run/ Then the less that I find/ Sellin my soul for a nickel and dime/ Breakin my heart to keep singing these rhymes/ And losin again

Waking Light by Beck- Waking light, it grew from the shadow/ Brace yourself to the morning low/ Night is gone, long way turning/ You’ve waited long enough to know

Whatever It Takes by Imagine Dragons- Whatever it takes/ ‘Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins/ I do whatever it takes/ 'Cause I love how it feels when I break the chains/ Whatever it takes

Rise Up by Andra Day- And I’ll rise up/ I’ll rise like the day/ I’ll rise up/ I’ll rise unafraid

idontwannabeyouanymore by Billie Eilish- Don’t be that way/ Fall apart twice a day/ i just wish you could feel what you say/ Show, never tell/ But I know you too well/ Got a mood that you wish you could sell

My Own Worst Enemy by Robert Pettersson- Stick to my guns and I watch the darkness fill the void/ am I starting to become what I was sent here to destroy/ in the mirror I see you staring back at me/ Each time the hatred grows I forget which side I’m on/ is it simply my own shadow I’ve been chasing all along/ in the mirror I see you staring back at me

Why by Rascal Flatts- You must've a been in a place so dark, couldn't feel the light/ Reachin' for you through that stormy cloud/ Now here we are gathered in our little home town/ This can't be the way you meant to draw a crowd

Astronaut by Simple Plan- 'Cause tonight I'm feeling like an astronaut/ Sending SOS from this tiny box/ And I lost all signal when I lifted off/ Now I'm stuck out here and the world forgot

Savin’ Me by Nickleback- Show me what it's like/ To be the last one standing/ And teach me wrong from right/ And I'll show you what I can be

Numb by Linkin Park- I'm tired of being what you want me to be/ Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface/ I don't know what you're expecting of me

Hurt by Johnny Cash- I wear this crown of thorns/ Upon my liars chair/ Full of broken thoughts/ I cannot repair

Hate by Common Children- I hate myself/ I hate myself/ The madness/ Of sadness/ The mixed words

Key for what event each song is attached to and why each song was chosen for those events under read more:

First, I chose Finding Life because Declan has felt like his whole life he is trying to almost find life for himself. I felt that was a great title for a playlist for the important moments of Declan’s life.

Declan is born (September 12,1986 )- I just like how this sounds. It feels a lot like Declan.

Siobhan Graham is born (Undated 1989)- Declan just wants his little sister to know how much he loves her.

Declan is kidnapped and taken to Stephen’s Farm (January 1993/ Age 7)- Weak and Powerless describes exactly how Declan feels about his situation with Zacharias and Sestra at the time.

Unknown to Declan, his mother commits suicide. (March 2004/ Age 18)- The first lyrics really describes how his mother felt before she committed suicide.

Declan murders Zacharias and Sestra Stephens and escapes the farm. He is immediately detained. (October 2004/ Age 18)- I like how angry this song is. It really talks about how Declan doesn’t know who he is after what the farm put him through. Could he be anything other than a trained killer?

Declan is pardoned thanks to the governor of Georgia at the time. In exchange, Declan agrees to take a settlement from the Stephens’ to never talk about what happened again. At the request of his father, Declan is put in a mental institution. (December 2004/ Age 18)- This song really typifies how Declan was feeling at that point. There was nothing but emptiness and pain for him as he sat along in the corner of the hospital waiting for therapists to pick him apart.

Declan gets his high school diploma. Then is let outside of hospital. Declan runs away and finds a shack to live in while selling plants that he grows. Spends the next few years drinking. (May 2007/ Age 20)- It’s at this time that Declan feels incredibly lost in his life. He’s just falling through life trying to find some sort of way of filling the void in his soul.

A rich guy buys the farm Declan was planting on. He offers Declan a job working there where he’ll pay for Declan’s school if Declan pulls his life together. (June 2008 /Age 20)- This is a new start for Declan. He looks to the new life worried, but hopeful for something good.

Declan graduates from college with a Bachelors in Agricultural Science. (January 2013/ Age 26)- Finally, Declan starts to feel successful in his life. Finally, Declan starts to see a direction for his life.

Declan is hired at a prestigious research center. (June 2013/ Age 26)- It’s at this point where Declan finally starts to feels like he’s creating a world for himself. Every day he rises up from all of his pain, and he created something despite all of that.

Declan is dragged into a court case. (September 2015/ Age 29)- Dragging Declan back into the world of the Stephens was one of the worst things to ever happen to Declan. He had put a lot of it behind him, but the reminder of the images and manipulation drove Declan to want to sink away from his skin.

Declan is officially reprimanded for his alcoholism for the first time. (December 2015/ Age 29)- This song sums up how he hates everything about himself, and some part of him wishes someone would come save him from himself.

Declan find out one of the kids that survived committed suicide. (March 2016/ Age 30)- It just perfectly illustrates how guilty he feels about someone he felt responsible for committing suicide.

Declan is officially reprimanded for his alcoholism the second time. (June 2016 / Age 30)- Emptiness had completely filled Declan at that point.

Declan is put on “Family Medical Leave” and told either to go to rehab or that he couldn’t return. Declan goes to six week rehab program. (January 2017/ Age 31)- He desperately wants to get his life together, but he feels so distant from everything. He feels like no one really sees him.

Declan returns back to work. (March 2017/ Age 31)- Despite getting clean, Declan continues to feel numb.

Declan is fired. (September 20, 2019/ Age 33)- He can’t pull it together, and he realizes he is his own destruction.

Declan moves back to Mirror Lake, Georgia. (September 29, 2019/ Age 33)- You get it. He hates himself.

#timeline #timeline album #album #fc

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nightcoremoon · 5 years

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wow the chronicles of narnia the lion the witch and the wardrobe is written about as "well" as most children's literature is because it literally is children's literature. I have literally read a crossover between Harry Potter, Invader Zim, and Tales Of Symphonia by a thirteen year old and it was fucking incredible. I have literally read a crossover between Jak & Daxter, Spyro, Sly Cooper, Crash Bandicoot, and Ratchet & Clank by a thirteen year old and it was also fucking incredible. I have literally read a three part 600K words modern day high school UK AU of Avatar The Last Airbender where Zuko and Katara were obsessed with Stephen King's The Dark Tower series and bands like Paramore and Papa Roach and it was probably the best thing I've literally ever read in my entire life. And the author was only fourteen.

dear fledgling writers who feel sad that their works "aren't as good" as "real" authors like cs lewis and jrr tolkien and ursula k le guin and jk rowling and chris paolini and rick riordan and james patterson and ray bradbury and john green and kurt vonnegut and stephen king and suzanne collins and douglas adams and lemony snicket and se hinton and veronica roth and fuck it I'll even add stephenie meyer to the list:

I can guaranfuckingtee you that if you actually read some of their works you'll see that the only differences between you and them is that they finished writing their books.

the lion the witch and the wardrobe has way too fast of a pace and too much expositional infodumping and too much "x said y then x said y then x said y". tolkien had way too much worldbuilding and lore and linguistics getting in the way of the stories. harry potter is not that great from a mechanical standpoint even if I'm completely disregarding jk's mass quantity of social fuckups. eragon is just okay (although eldest and brisingr got exponentially better but if you think about it that's because he kept on writing). the lightning thief is just okay (and again the series got exponentially better as rick kept writing). patterson is just not that good of a writer (like dean koontz and nora roberts). most of bradbury's writings sucked because they were just propaganda pieces for his own personal beliefs but he literally wrote an entire book every single day for years and when you have that much practice it's literally impossible to actually write anything bad, just mediocre at best. stephen king had a dozen amazing books but for each amazing one there were three or four "meh" ones. the hunger games was a bit clunky & rough at the beginning of the trilogy. douglas adams focused more on humor than on substance and luckily he's actually hilarious. a series of unfortunate events prided itself on coasting on plot contrivances and people being dumbasses to an unrealistically absurd degree and never explaining a single goddamn thing to the audience and never actually having an ending [and even when he did write an actual ending where everyone died it still made no fucking sense because why in the unholy fuck did beatrice become romantic with her uncle lemony? unless it really was actually the fucking baudelaire's mom he was pining for even though that timeline makes no fucking sense because when they were in the vfd they literally weren't even living in the same state AUGH] and so full of plot holes but that was ~part of the charm~. the outsiders was just a straight (haha pun) fucking mess. divergent is famously known for being way overrated and lacking in actual substance. twilight was too slow and dry and fucking MORMON to be at all enjoyable until new moon and even then it was a pile of abusive and ableist and self righteous garbage with a few good subplots, and so on.

now, each of those authors are talented and have written good books, and I won't speak ill of their talents, and am in fact a huge fan of at least half of them, and I at least respect the rest because they work their asses off to make content for their hungry fans. but it just goes to show that books don't have to be perfect. they don't have to be polished and meticulously well crafted and comb a thesaurus and follow every single grammatical construct to the letter and juggle tropes perfectly and stand for important messages and otherwise be anything other than stories to share with people.

and of course there's lots of shitty fanfiction. I've read a lot of shitty fanfiction. I mean shit I've WRITTEN a lot of shitty fanfiction. and I mean irredeemably unsalvageable to the point that I literally don't even wanna know that they exist. I've read things that were so godawful I literally gave up halfway through, purged from my memory, found again, and was punched in the face from the suppressed memories of just how painful it was to read. and I can say the same exact thing about some original fiction I won't mention by name because that would be mean. what I mean by the first paragraph is that those are the epitome of cringe culture in young teens writing, and yet in spite of that were all still masterpieces in their own right.

being a good writer isn't about whether it's original or fanfic. it isn't about whether you're as good as the multimillionaires. it's about saying fuck it and writing regardless of whether other people will like it because those stories belong to you. and you'll never know if the world will love it or if you'll be the next charles dickens or jane austen unless you tell that voice in your head "fuck you, I AM good enough!", put the hypothetical finger to the metaphorical typewriter keys, and WRITE YOUR BOOK.

now of course, your first book will be a mess. but that's called drafting. analyze what's wrong, fix what you can, change what you can't, add more or take some away to fix the pacing, GET A SECOND PERSON TO BE AN EDITOR, but most importantly of all, NEVER GIVE UP. giving up is a 100% chance of never being an author, but trying? it's at least 1%. so if you write a hundred books then statistically at least one of them will be awesome.

just don't compare yourself to other writers. instead, draw inspiration from them.

you miss all the shots you don't take. so don't let the fear of missing keep you from aiming at the target.

and remember:

every master author started off as a beginner.

just like you.

and look, as long as you're better than my immortal and phanslash's hat fic and the my little pony cupcakes creepypasta, then you're fucking golden.

every meh story you write is one step closer to your anna karenina, your war & peace, your moby dick, your pride & prejudice, your jane eyre, your great gatsby, your to kill a mocking bird, your beowulf, your tale of gilgamesh and enkidu, your odyssey, your don motherfucking quixote.

you might not write the greatest book in the world but if that's your goal, your passion is in the wrong place. but if you wanna write that novel so you can say "hey world, I wrote a fucking book, and I'm proud of it. what did you do?" then don't let insecurity drag you under. don't worry about inferiority. just write.

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escapingreality51 · 7 years

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God Amelia after your post about Arron missing rob I need a lil fic if you don’t mind? 5 times Aaron misses rob and one time he doesn’t need to? I love your work but it’s totally cool if you don’t wanna

All Along It Was a Fever

He can’t stop crying.

His tears are streaming own his face and the sleeves of his jumper are wet with wiping them away but it doesn’t stop. The hole in his chest draws out more, the throbbing pain in his heart a constant reminder and it hurts.

The Mill is so quiet now - Liv is still away and all Aaron can do and sit in the silence. It is deafening. Each tick of the clock on the wall like a blaring of sound, making the silence more obvious, more engulfing. A reminder of what isn’t there. Robert’s presence used to be everything, a big, loud, arrogant presence that made Aaron so happy. His laughter resounding through the flat, his small snores as he slept. It was everywhere and now it’s gone.

Aaron wipes away his tears again, leans his head against the kitchen drawer and takes a deep breath.

Alone. He chose it, he made it, but the throbbing doesn’t lessen for that fact, doesn’t hurt and make him ache less because he knows it’s right. He needs to stay away, he needs to take care of himself but maybe that’s what hurts more than anything.

He gets up, finds a beer in the fridge and drinks it. The living room is quiet and so he switches on the telly, finds something to have droning on in the background, any noise to fill the silence. The absence. He turns on the radio until that is blaring some music he doesn’t recognise but which is filled with heavy drums and loud guitars and never seems to quiet down. No one complains because there is no one to complain. No one is living in the other flat, no one is there to contest.

Aaron stands in the living room, noises blaring at him and with his feet planted firmly on the ground and the music filling his ears. The tears stop falling.

ii.

Aaron is woken up by rain hammering against the window, wind turning the water into tiny pellets that amplify the sound and drag him from his slumber. Autumn has arrived.

He shifts and turns under the duvet, presses his nose into the pillow and stretches. His dream spills over into real life, he wants to sink back into it and his hand instinctively goes to the other side of the bed, seeking warmth and something long lost. When his hand finds the patch empty, cold, void of someone he wakes up, realisation hitting him.

Robert.

The smell of him lingered on their bedding for a while, soft and musky and too good for comfort so Aaron washed them but even the washing powder reminded him of Robert, standing in the shops and taking the poncy packet from the shelf, explaining how it would make all the difference. Aaron bought new washing powder and the smell has slowly disappeared, leaving behind a dull longing whenever Aaron put his head to the pillow.

His heart aches for the warmth Robert used to exude in sleep, the small snores and heavy breathing a constant reminder of the fact that he was there, they were together. Aaron had him and could turn over and see him sleeping softly against his pillow, golden hair messy and breath foul. He has put Robert’s duvet away, stuffed it into the back of the cupboard and claimed his pillow as his own. He still sleeps on one side though.

His hand traces over the empty spot, running over the soft sheet and desperately willing his brain to forget about the body that used to lie there, the hand he used to find and hold in the morning, the warmth he would wrap his arms around and hold tighter. With a deep breath he pulls back, lies on his back, and tries to quell the longing in his chest.

iii.

“You really can’t cook to save your life,” Liv says. Her fork scratches across the plate as she pushes the food around and the sounds rings in Aaron’s ears, making him wince.

“I tried alright,” Aaron says.

Liv scoffs. “Looks like you just threw everything together and waited until it burned.”

“Oi,” he says, pointing his fork at her. “I tried, alright? I’ll go buy us some pizzas so stop complaining.”

She does, but the sour look on her face tells him it’s a fight to keep her mouth shut.

He gets up and clears the table, chucking the food in the bin and dumping the plates in the dishwasher with more force than strictly necessary. He hates not being able to cook for her, not knowing how to throw a simple sauce together without messing it up just because he used to have someone to help him, cook for him. Cook for the family. He hates the sadness in her eyes because she knows he is hurting. It’s less, now but it’s there and moments like this only make it flare, harder to ignore and it makes Aaron so angry.

When the pizzas are picked up he brings one up to Liv, knocks on her door.

“I’m sorry.” She looks up at him, holds her hands out and takes the box out of his hands. “I shouldn’t have snapped I just missed -”

“I know,” Aaron says, not wanting to hear it, not right now. “I’ll be downstairs if you want to join me.”

He sits on the sofa and opens his box, eyes on an episode of Top Gear as he chews. This used to be their thing; pizza, the sofa, Top Gear and a smile on Robert’s face. It’s still a good episode, and Aaron still loves pizza on the sofa but it’s different now, it’s less in a way that dampens his enjoyment. Still he watches, eats his pizza, takes what enjoyment from it he can. The dull ache of missing Robert has lessened and sometimes he doesn’t mind it as much because at least it reminds him of what they had, of being happy.

He hears shuffling down the stairs and looks over his shoulder to see Liv walking towards him, box in hand.

“Still want company?” she asks, eyes red and hair messy.

“‘Course,” he says. “Come here.”

The cushion dips as she sits down next to him, bringing her legs up and resting her pizza on her knees. She smiles at him, small and sad and smiles back. They have each other and the ache in his chest is doused.

iv.

Aaron bites down on his lip and rests his head on the headboard, fighting the thoughts running through his mind.

He has one hand wrapped around himself, tugging and moving slowly, building to relieve whatever has had him tense all day. He’s hard and it feels good but his brain keeps going back, reminding him of memories best forgotten. Lips on his skin and fingers digging into him, making him moan. His mind is betraying him and he knows he should stop, doesn’t want to think about it because it’s Robert and it’s so long since they touched it makes his fingertips ache.

He tries to shake it off, he really does but the pleasure is building and it’s so tempting to just give in, remember what it felt like with Robert’s hand wrapped around him, working him just right and drawing it out, making him plead for it. Robert on his skin, kissing along his neck and biting at the soft skin behind his ear; Robert using his mouth to make him hard, licking along the shaft and sucking lightly at the tip in that way that he knew made Aaron whimper; Robert digging his hands into his thigh, holding him as Aaron tipped his head back and tries to stifle his moans.

He’s lost in it now, desperate to feel it again and know that Robert was his. His hand is working faster and it’s the best he’s got right now so he allows himself to do it, to sink into the memories of Robert around him, working him and what it felt like to release into Robert’s mouth, have Robert swallow it all and it’s too much - he comes with a grunt, painting his chest with it and biting his lip until pain shoots through him.

A deep breath and then another while his body calms, his mind racing.

He shouldn’t have, he knows it and shame shoots through him. Shame at wanting someone he shouldn’t, at thinking about Robert that way when he knows it can’t end well. It can’t but maybe dreaming about it is better than doing something about it.

In the bathroom he steps into the shower with a smile on his face because even though he shouldn’t have, that felt fucking good.

“Vic’s working ‘till late, fancy a pint later?”

Adam smiling at Aaron over his coffee and Aaron finds himself smiling back.

“Yeah, sounds good. Then I can trash you at darts again.”

“Mate,” Adam says, drawing out the vowels and leaning back in his chair, “we’ll see yeah?”

Aaron’s got his hand around his cup of coffee that Bob has just given him with his usual smile and flair. The cup is warm and Aaron takes a deep breath, the smell of coffee filling his nose. It’s off though - not as earthy and sweet as he is used to. He takes a sip anyway and it tastes wrong as well.

“How’s it going with Alex?” he asks. Aaron shrugs, doesn’t know how to reply because he doesn’t know the answer.

“Alright, I ‘spose.” The steam from his coffee rises slowly in front of him, and he follows it with his gaze, willing his mind blank. “When’ve you got that pick up in Leeds?” he asks and Adam shrugs.

“Need to leave in 30,” he replies. Aaron takes another sip. “You alright mate?” Aaron shoots him a look of confusion and Adam laughs. “Looks like you’ve just smelled something off.”

“Nah, it’s nothing…” His voice trails off as the door to the café opens and Robert walks in. His eyes can’t help but follow him for a second too long before he meets Adam’s eye again. “Just different to what I’m used to is all.”

Adam notices because for some reason with Aaron, he always notices.

“I bet it is, mate.” His mouth is smiling but his eyes are serious. “A lot different.”

“Hiya,” Robert says, standing next to his chair with his hands in his pockets, all thigh and broad chest. “Interrupting something, am I?”

Adam looks at Aaron and waits for an answers.

“Not at all, I was just leaving.” Aaron gets up and he is standing too close for comfort so he looks away. “See you at the yard, yeah?” he asks Adam, and leaves the café before waiting for a reply.

His mouth still tastes of too bitter coffee as he makes his way towards the yard, breath heavy and mind heavier. It’s heavy in his heart and heavy in his chest and he wants to forget the smell of the expensive coffee Robert used to buy or the feel of his lips against Aaron’s, he doesn’t want to miss them the way he does.

He is tired, so tired that each step towards the Mill is arduous, a feat in and of its own. His hands are stuffed in his pocket and his head is so full of orders and contracts and scrap it feels heavy, weighed down by tomorrow before tomorrow has even begun.

Gravel crunches under his feet as he walks down the driveway in front of the Mill and he smiles slightly when he sees that the lights are on. They aren’t usually at this time of day. The door is unlocked when he reaches it, another anomaly. The smell that floods his senses when the door opens is definitely not normal.

“Liv?”

He hears the distinct sound of the extractor hood in the kitchen and Aaron takes off his coat before walking towards the kitchen. Robert is there, wearing an apron and a smile on his face.

“Hiya,” he says. He looks nervous. “Liv let me in, I hope that’s alright.”

“Yeah…” Aaron replies, looking at the chicken in the oven and the pots on the stove. “What are you?”

“I know this is new between us,” Robert says and points between them, “but I wanted to do something nice for you. I hope that’s alright.”

“‘Course, I just didn’t think -” Aaron starts but the faltering of Robert’s smile makes him stop. “This is amazing, Robert.”

“Really?” His face lights up as he says it.

Aaron can’t resist walking up to him and wrapping his arms around him. “Really.”

Robert grins at him and leans in for a kiss. It’s soft, lingering, filled with sweetness and happiness and it makes Aaron’s chest expand.

“I’ve made us a roast,” Robert says when they break apart.

“Smells amazing,” Aaron mumbles before he pulls him in again, fitting their lips together. “I missed you.”

Robert smiles, presses his forehead to Aaron’s and hums contentedly. “Missed you too.”

Aaron keeps him arms wrapped around him a while longer, smelling him, breathing him in, feeling the thrum of his heartbeat against his fingers, in his chest.

“This is good,” Aaron says into Robert’s shoulder.

“It is.”

#amelia writes #amelia answers #prompts are fun #robron fanfiction #my fanfiction #aaron misses robert #Anonymous

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actuallyadhd · 7 years

Photo

me, not doing homework to submit my story…

(day 2 working on this) hey there! my name is Robert. I have ADHD subtype 3 (combined type). I was diagnosed at age 25; I’ll be 28 in 3 months. funny enough, I only got myself checked out because my wife (who was my girlfriend at the time) also has ADHD, and she picked up on the symptoms I exhibited. Until going to college, ADHD didn’t really negatively impact my life very much; aside from zoning out, and playing when i was supposed to clean my room. looking back at my childhood, I’m convinced I’ve had it my whole life; I think i mainly exhibited inattentive symptoms. I also have sluggish cognitive tempo, major depressive disorder, generalized and social anxiety, cerebral palsy.

funny story: my first antidepressant was Paxil, it was great at first, i felt great, lost weight and could eat a ton; then one day my muscles on the left side of my face twitched uncontrollably for about a few minutes. needless to say, i quickly changed meds. to Wellbutrin, which has been good for me.

Now, the way ADHD affects me are as follows: -I either forget details, remember obscure things, -I notice background details in movies/shows and music -getting myself to read textbooks or other wordy documents is difficult -i either am adamant about getting assignments done (to prevent guilt/anxiety), or I can’t be bothered to do it and couldn’t care less, -meal preparation is the biggest pain in the butt, -weeks without cleaning and then clean EVERYTHING *now!* -scrolling Tumblr/FB/games in class, -popcorn and soda for lunch nearly every day because meal prep sucks -NEVER on time to class/church/appointments -forgetting what i just said -rarely remembering people’s names -HECKING EXECUTIVE DYSFUNCTIONNNNNNNN -taking forever to wind down so i can go to sleep - hyperfocus can be a really good or, not such a good thing. when it’s good, i can draw, study etc. -i get random bursts of energy sometimes, so i get a lot of cleaning, or errands, or projects done! -spontaneous fun, and affections to my wife!, not wanting these things reciprocated 9/10 times. lol -stimming! -creativity! … and so on.

ADHD is hard a majority of the time, but I’m happy I’ve been diagnosed. I understand myself so much better than i used to, and know why i do certain things, and why I can’t get myself to do others. I’m usually able to forgive myself for shortcomings, and let things go that are out of my control. I feel more connected to others with ADHD, and know that I’m not alone in my struggles.

I’m taking 20mg of methylphenidate (generic for ritalin) twice a day (I’ve been forgetting my second dose for weeks). it works pretty well for me. I’m more alert, less prone to being bored or feeling understimulated. the letdown is rough sometimes, but overall I’m satisfied with my treatment. I had a small dose of Adderall for a short time, it amplified some symptoms, and made me super hyper, and happy (manic happy) for about an hour, and then it wears off. (I’m talking 5mg… 5!). so yeah, i don’t take Adderall.

I could go on, but I think you get the gist. thanks for reading my story! if you have questions or wanna hear more, you can ask me at: redundant-rhododendron.tumblr.com

#submission #Actually ADHD #redundant-rhododendron #ADHD #ADHD Awareness Month

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notwithout-mymuse · 7 years

Text

Fic: Misfits and Wanderers (2/8)

Fic in which Robert and Aaron accidentally become secondary dads to almost every kid in the village. No mentions of the current SL because positivity is fun.

Split into 8 smaller one-shots because my thoughts ran away with me. All parts with be tagged fic: misfits verse.

With thanks again to @mrshiftysugden, @portinastorm, and @stulot for their support and ideas :)

Part 1 – Noah

Part 2 – Gabby

It’s late by the time Robert gets home from his meeting. He toes his shoes off inside the door, leaves his jacket on the hook, and stretches to ease the ache in his back from the long drive.

Robert doesn’t have to look far to find his husband, slouched in his usual spot on the sofa scrolling through his phone, so far so normal. It’s only on his second glance that he realises that the scene is far from normal.

The table in the middle of the living room is covered in a mess of what Robert would only describe as girly stuff. Hair clips, make-up brushes, and bottles of nail polish are strewn all over the table, between coke cans and chocolate wrappers, even the tv is paused on some cheesy looking chick flick.

“Oh good you’re back, I was starting to get worried.” Aaron says, tilting his head to the side as Robert comes up behind him, a silent request for a kiss on the cheek, which Robert happily obliges.

“Oh my god, what is that on your fingers!” Robert can’t help exclaiming, bursting into laughter before he can stop himself.

“It’s not my fault! Liv’s got Gabby over for the night, apparently she and her boyfriend broke up and she’s heartbroken, so me and Liv were trying to cheer her up…”

“And that required you to paint your nails purple why?” Robert is still chuckling as he drops down onto the sofa next to Aaron, whose cheeks are a little bit pink now.

“Well technically the girls did it for me…” Aaron’s excuse is interrupted by Liv and Gabby descending the stairs with blankets, both in their pyjamas already with their hair in plaits. Robert notices that their nails are painted too, Gabby’s a bright pink, Liv’s black.

“Do ya like Aaron’s new makeover” Liv teases, “we wanted to put lipstick on him too but he wouldn’t let us.”

“Oi, I draw the line at that.” Aaron tells her.

Liv and Gabby settle down opposite them and re-start their film. Robert can’t help but notice that despite her smiles, Gabby’s eyes are red and tired looking.

Any semblance of calm that Gabby had found disappears when her phone chimes in her lap, she sighs as she opens the new message, and Liv glares at the phone like the inanimate object has done something terrible to her.

“I told ya, ignore him! He’s so not worth it.” Liv says sternly, nudging Gabby as she says it.

Before her friend can respond, there’s a loud hammering on the front door, and a lad’s voice shouting.

“Gabby! Gabby! It’s me. Open up… I know you’re in there. Jacob told me you were staying at Liv’s so there’s no point hiding. I just wanna talk! Gabby!”

Gabby is the first to react, but as she goes to stand Liv pulls her back down to the sofa.

“Don’t you dare, the guy’s a bloody psycho… just ignore him, he’ll have to go away eventually.”

“Don’t worry” Aaron tells the two girls. “I’ve got this.”

Robert watches Aaron walk over to the door and wrench it open, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“Who the hell are you, and why are you tryin’ to smash my door in?” Aaron demands, and Robert sees the lad - a greasy, spotty boy in a snapback - recoil slightly in surprise. Aaron was clearly not who he was expecting.

Aaron stands in the doorway with his arms crossed, blocking the entrance, as the boy splutters incoherently about talking to Gabby and “just a big misunderstanding”, sounding nothing like the cocky, demanding git who had first slammed on the door.

Gabby mutters something about the loo, and rushes upstairs to the bathroom, rubbing furiously at her eyes with the sleeve of her pyjamas. This prompts Liv to shout several expletives at the boy over Aaron’s shoulder, for which Robert cuffs her round the back of her head.

“Let Aaron handle him, you go keep an eye on Gabby ok?” Robert tells her, and thankfully Liv follows Gabby upstairs without further swearing.

Robert decides it’s probably time to intervene, not because he doesn’t think Aaron can’t handle it just fine on his own, but because he knows his husband has a temper. Aaron’s counselling may have been going well of late, but Robert thought it was best not to risk it all the same.

By the time Robert appears at Aaron’s shoulder, his husband is reading the lad on the doorstep the riot act.

“…if even half the things I’ve heard about you are true, then Gabby deserves far better than a little rat like you. So if you know what’s good for ya you’ll stay far away from her, and Liv, and if I ever catch you hammering on my door like that again I swear I’ll…”

“Everything ok Aaron?” Robert interrupts, before Aaron can make any specific threats of violence.

“Yeah, no problem!” Aaron says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “My new friend here was just leaving.”

If Aaron’s rant had him scared, then the sight of both men glaring daggers at him has the boy looking like he’s on the verge of wetting himself. He doesn’t hesitate to use Aaron’s words as a cue to leave, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away.

Robert can’t help but snort in amusement, as Aaron closes the door.

“You know, the protective dad act is just a little bit sexy” Robert tells him, raising an eyebrow at Aaron.

“Shut up” is Aaron’s only response.

It takes a while for Liv to coax Gabby back downstairs, and when she does emerge her whole face is red and puffy, her sleeves pulled down over her hands and she looks nothing like her usual confident, sarcastic teenage self. She just looks like a lost little girl.

“Don’t worry, he’s gone and it doesn’t look like he’s coming back, Aaron saw to that!” Robert tells the girls.

“Thanks… look I’m really sorry for causing trouble, I didn’t think he’d come here looking for me. I can go home if you want…” Gabby stutters out, her gaze flicking between both men.

“Don’t be daft.” Aaron replies, “It’s not your fault! You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. And if he starts giving you grief again, you tell me alright?”

Gabby cracks a genuine smile at that, a rare sight since Ashley’s passing.

“Thanks.”

“Now come on, put the end of this film back on. I want to know if that Regina girl survived getting hit by the bus.” Aaron says, causing Robert and the girls to give him a strange look.

“What? It’s funny ok?” Aaron says, attempting to defend himself.

Which he has to do again the next morning against Adam, when he realises that he’s forgotten to remove his nail polish.

But Liv and Gabby spend the night giggling in their pyjamas, and end up swearing off boys (for a week only, but still, it’s the thought that counts.) So maybe it’s all worth it.

#robron #robron fic #roblivion #gabby thomas #liv x gabby #fic: misfits verse #beth's writing

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sapphicsugden · 7 years

Note

this got long. oops?

Before Robert fully comes awake, thoughts of geez, you’re old bounce around his skull, and he groans, burying his face back in the pillow.

There’s a soft chuckle to his left, and a hand slides into his hair, massaging his scalp gently. He can’t stop the smile from curving his lips, or his head from pushing up against talented fingers.

“Don’t want to turn forty, huh?” A soft kiss is pressed to his temple in apology for the amused tone.

Robert grunts, fingers sliding out from under the duvet to find Aaron’s chest. “S’not my birthday.”

“Sorry,” Aaron tells him, nose brushing against Robert’s hairline. “Kinda is.”

Shuffling until he can press his face into Aaron’s neck, he lets out a huff and a whine. He knows he’s being immature and childish, but forty is a big number and he absolutely does not want to think about it.

Aaron laughs, Robert can feel the rumble underneath his cheek, and wraps an arm around Robert’s shoulders as he presses a kiss to his head. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“You won’t be saying that when you turn forty,” Robert points out, turning to kiss Aaron’s jaw. “I’ll have to make sure you don’t freak out.”

The words settle about them like a promise, and Robert can’t believe how far they’ve come, how comfortable he is to think about Aaron being in his life forever.

“Come on,” Aaron says, brushing a hand through Robert’s hair. “Let’s get up and get you out of the house before Liv wakes up.”

Robert forgot she was even home; she’s been interning at a studio in Leeds while she studies for her Masters in Architecture. She shines every time she shows him her drawings, and he knows enough to be impressed, though it’s mostly just pride whenever he talks about her. She popped down for a couple of days for his birthday. “She’ll be too hungover to make comments.”

As soon as he and Aaron get to the bottom of the staircase, Robert can smell bacon and his stomach growls in response.

Liv pokes her head around the door, hair loose, waving a spatula, and unfortunately for Robert, far from hungover. “Sit your butts down, breakfast’ll be out in a sec.”

“How are you even awake?” Aaron asks, running a hand over Robert’s spine as he passes to sit at the table. There’s already a stack of post on the table, two steaming cups of tea, and some toast.

There’s also a gaudy pink envelope and a gift bag sat in Robert’s place. He rolls his eyes, and picks up the card, leaning his hip against the chair. When he tugs the card out, he snorts. It’s a handrawn whale coloured in the bisexual flag pink, purple and blue, with a handwritten Happy Birthday to my Bisexuwhale Brother!

“Did you draw this?” Robert asks, turning it around so Aaron can see it.

“Yup,” Liv says, bringing through a plate of bacon and eggs.

“You called me your brother,” Robert says, clutching his chest dramatically. It’s an old joke, one they’ve long moved past, but Liv still rolls her eyes in the way he hopes. “I’m touched.”

“Touched in the head,” Liv tells him, unimpressed. “Your gift is small. I’m a starving student.”

Aaron snorts, as Robert picks up the bag. “Because neither of us know about that inheritance sitting in your bank account.”

“Or the money Robert transfers to my bank account every term?” Liv raises her eyebrows, giving Robert a pointed look. He ignores that and the surprised look Aaron gives him. Liv looks between them. “Oh wait, you didn’t know?”

“What he does with his money is up to him,” Aaron says, but his eyes have gone all soft and happy, like Robert’s still surprising him even now. Robert doesn’t know; they’ve been together almost ten years, you’d think he’d be used to Robert by now.

“Anyway,” Robert says, grabbing the rest of the post on the table. “I’ll open it when you’re actually sitting down.”

Shuffling through the letters, he frowns when he sees one from a solicitor. Not his, not Aaron’s long unused one, but his parents’. He tears into it, pulls out a letter and another smaller, browner envelope.

Dear Mr. Sugden, the letter starts, and Robert double checks to make sure it’s actually addressed to him and not to his father. This was left in my posession ..... after the unfortunate passing of your mother.... she planned for certain contingencies.... asked to send this on to you upon the event of your fortieth birthday..... yours sincerely.

Robert swallows thickly, fingers shaking as he lifts up the old envelope. It’s his mother’s familiar handwriting and he’s not prepared for it, heart clenching painfully, chest squeezing in a way that signals panic attack if he doesn’t get himself under control.

“Robert?” Aaron’s always been attuned to Robert’s shifting moods, but even more recently, and he’s round the table in seconds, hand on Robert’s arm. “What’s the matter?”

“S’from my mum,” Robert manages, blinking back tears. It feels stupid to still be affected after all this time, but it’s like he’s fourteen again, hearing her screams. He thought he was past this. “Why does it still-”

“Hey,” Aaron says, hand on Robert’s chin, turning so that Robert’s looking at him. “You’re allowed to still be affected. It doesn’t make you weak, alright?”

It’s nothing Robert hasn’t heard countless times from his counsellor, and he nods, throat thick. “I don’t wanna open it.”

Their history shines; Robert remembers Gordon’s letter, hiding it, not giving Aaron the option.

“You don’t have to,” Aaron says, voice careful. “Whatever you want.”

Robert nods, slides the letter under his plate and grins up at Liv, knows she sees right through it. “Now, about this breakfast.”

The sounds of the scrapyard filter in through the window;

Adam yelling to the two newest members of the team, banging and sawing, and the sound of the kettle coming to the boil in the portacabin.

Robert’s at his desk, staring at the letter next to his phone, finger tracing the edges. Aaron’s watching him but pretending not to, busying himself with the kettle.

“Aaron,” Robert says, blinking heavily.

Aaron looks up, but says nothing, waiting on Robert to talk when he’s ready.

Robert’s chest feels tight again, still doesn’t know how he gets this. “I wanna open it, but I don’t.”

There’s a pause where Aaron finishes making the tea, bringing them both over to Robert’s desk. He sits on the edge, leans forward and cradles Robert’s face in his hands. “Like I said this morning, it’s what you’re comfortable with, alright? I’ll be here when you wanna open it.”

Robert nods, smiles and leans in for a kiss. Aaron complies, closes his eyes as their lips touch. Robert hangs on, doesn’t know what to do with the emotion unfurling in his belly. He’s not used to this, not unless it’s his mum’s birthday, or the anniversary of her death.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shut up,” Aaron says, rubbing his thumb over Robert’s cheek. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

As soon as Aaron pulls back, Robert reaches for the letter, tears into the envelope. Aaron’s hand returns to his head, fingers threaded in Robert’s hair as he reads.

My dearest Robert, Robert starts, and feels tears choke him, hands shaking as he reads.

I know it’s been a long time since you’ve heard from me, but I wanted this letter to reach you when I knew you’d be settled, or at least have some idea of where you want to be!

Settled, Robert thinks, looking up at Aaron. He’s lucky, so lucky, to have Aaron and Liv and Vic and her family. The village life he thought he could be without settling around his shoulders like a blanket.

Things with your dad are bad, I know that, and I want you to know how much it means to me that you want to come with me, even when your dad loves you as much as he does.

Robert grits his teeth against the memories; his parents fighting over them like they were something to be won, even when he was adamant that he wanted to go with his mum, with Vic, be loved.

I’m proud of you.

Closing his eyes, Robert lets out a slow breath, focuses on the hand Aaron’s rubs over his shoulder, the weight of Aaron’s whispered, you’re okay, settling over him.

I know it’s been difficult for you since Andy came to us, I know you feel hurt and alone sometimes, and I hope you know you never were. I loved you, love you, so much. I always have.

It’s what Robert’s missed the most, hearing his mother make everything better with an I love you. Instead he has Aaron, Aaron, who never fails to make Robert understand and see how important Robert is to him.

I know that whatever you’ve chosen to do, however you’ve taken those GCSEs we talked about, that you’ve made something of yourself and that I’d be proud of where you are.

Robert thinks of the scrapyard, thinks of the haulage firm and how far they’ve both come, how happy he is with what he’s doing.

Never forget that your heart is your best asset, Robert, and it always will be. You have so much love to give and I know it can’t have been easy, that if you’re reading this, I’m not around to be there with you.

Robert stops, stunned. He can’t imagine anyone would think that his best asset.

Aaron’s smile is soft, his expression fond. “I think she’s on to something.”

Robert shrugs. “Think I’d have to disagree with you both.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not always the smartest,” Aaron says, pecking Robert on the lips. “Keep going, yeah?”

Robert doesn’t want to, wants to drop the letter on the desk and stop, but Aaron’s look is encouraging, and Robert can do this as long as he’s here.

What I’m trying to say, Robert, is that I hope you’re happy and that whoever you’re with, the people you’ve surrounded yourself with, know how lucky they are to have you in their lives.

I’m sorry I can’t be there, son, to see what a wonderful, loving man you’ve undoubtedly turned into, but I’m watching you. I’m always with you.

And I love you more than life itself,

Mum.

Robert drops the letter, leans into the arms Aaron curls around him, face pressed into Aaron’s neck. Aaron whispers words of comfort in his ear as Robert hangs on, thinks of how proud his mum sounds. Even back then, when she couldn’t know what awaited her, and he can’t stand it, wants to shake apart under Aaron’s hands.

“It’s alright,” Aaron says, rubbing a hand down Robert’s back, kissing his temple, his cheek, his lips.

“I wish she was here,” Robert says, throat tight. “I wish - but then I don’t?”

Aaron waits him out, patient.

“I have you,” Robert explains, touches their foreheads together. “I have Liv and Vic, but I have you to be what she was, my conscience, my focus. You’re everything to me, Aaron.”

Aaron swallows visibly, but kisses Robert hard, pulls him into another hug. “I love you, you hear me?”

“Yeah,” Robert says, turning his face into Aaron’s neck. “I love you too.”

“Your mum sounds like a great woman.”

It’s nothing Robert’s never heard before, and from Aaron more than once, but it feels like the first time, the first I’m proud of you he’s heard from her in years, and surrounded by Aaron, with his mum’s words stark and vivid on paper he can touch and read again and again, he feels like maybe, maybe, he’s got the stability and love he needs to be the person his mum wants him to be, the man Aaron tries to tell him that he is.

#fic by me #robert sugden #robron #aaron dingle #liv flaherty #siri writes fic #drabble meme #lol drabble meme #this isn't a drabble lmao #oops #Anonymous

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robron-til-the-end-of-time · 7 years

Note

For the prompts: 63 and 100

100 , as 63 “I’m home” was sort of done by the Liv moving in one.

100: “You’re the only one I wanna wake up next to.”

Aaron awoke with a start, and a throbbing head, before looking to his left to see (much to his disappointment) Adam, snoring loudly. Aaron squinted at his phone, head banging with a headache, especially at the bright light. That level of alcohol was always a bad idea. But then, it was Adam’s stag night, he had an excuse, didn’t he? He scrolled through some of the text messages he’d sent Robert last night and frowned. God, he must have been pissed, because they’d changed from flirty and suggestive to down right dirty. He got out of bed, waiting for a few seconds for the world to right itself before going downstairs, slowly, and calling Robert who was at home.

“Surprised you’re awake,” Robert said with amusement on the phone.

“Don’t, my head hurts,” Aaron said.

“Good night, was it?”

“I don’t know, waking up with Adam really isn’t the draw that you are,” Aaron said, making himself a cup of tea. “I missed you.”

“I told you I couldn’t go,” Robert said. “I actually have to be sober for these meetings today. And I’m guessing you’re not.”

“Why d’you say that?”

“You’d have to have drunk most of the whisky bottle to send me those last few texts,” Robert said, a laugh in his voice. “I know you.”

“Yeah, you do,” Aaron said warmly. “Good luck today.”

“Listen, about waking up with Adam…”

“Don’t worry, he’s not got your charms,” Aaron said, making his husband laugh. Then his voice softened completely. “You’re the only one I want to wake up with.”

“Is that the booze, or…”

“No,” Aaron said. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Robert said. “And I’m going to be late. Sober up and take it easy.”

“I will,” Aaron said before disconnecting the phone, a warm feeling in his heart.

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supernaturalartbook · 7 years

Text

SIGNAL!BOOST!CHARACTERS!

Here is the list of unpopular characters, that almost nobody picked. Please, if you still haven’t started your piece, or if you wanna switch, or add some small cameos, as a side characters, that would be SO awesome. I know you wanna draw the one you love the most, but there are so many wonderfull characters, that would love some attention from you too!

HUNTERS: BOBBY SINGER, RUFUS TURNER, ELLEN & JO HARVELLE, ASH, JOHN WINCHESTER, MARY WINCHESTER, HENRY WINCHESTER, JOSIE SANS, BELLA TALBOT, KEVIN TRAN, AZA FOX, SAMUEL СAMPBELL & THE CAMPBELLS, GORDON WALKER, GARTH, DOROTHY, ELLIOT NESS, MARTIN CREASER, EDD ZEDDMORE & HARRY SPRANGLER, KUBRICK, CALEB, DANIEL ELKINS, FRANK DEVERAUX, DELPHINE SEYDOUX, DONNA HANSCUM

ANGELS: BALTHAZAR, MURIEL, GADREEL!SAM, HAEL, URIEL, RAPHAEL,SAMANDRIEL, METATRON, MICHAEL, HAEL, JOSHUA, BARTHOLOMEW, CUPID, VIRGIL, ABNER, MALACHI, DONATELLO (PROPHET), CHUCK (PROPHET)

DEMONS: ALASTAIR, AZAZEL, CROSSROADS DEMONS, MEG1, BRADY, SEVEN DEALY SINS, CASEY, SIMMONS, JEFFREY, CECILY, BOBBYSINGER!DEMON

SPN BEINGS: DICK ROMAN, EDGAR, THE STEINES, AMY POND, LENORE, ELEANOR VISYAK, SUCH MONSTERS AS WEREWOLVES, ZOMBIES, GHOSTS, VAMPIRES, GHOULS, MAGDA PETERSON, ALICIA & MAX BANES, THE THULES

CIVILIANS: SAM WESSON, VICTOR HENRICKSEN, ADAM MILLIGAN, LINDA TRAN, LISA & BEN BRAEDEN, JESSICA MOORE, SARAH BLAKE, AMELIA RICHARDSON, BECKY ROSEN, GAVIN MACLEOD, CASSIE ROBINSON, AMELIA NOVAK, NICK (LUCIFE’S VESSEL), CAIN’S COLLETTE, SONNY, META!ERICK KRIPKE, ROBERT JOHNSON

THIS LIST IS IMPOSSIBLE TO FINISH ;)

#important info #signal boost #characters

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cwnerd12 · 5 years

Text

“Thank You” Mourners leave flowers, signs, and candles at a massive memorial outside the palace. Abner and Emma step out, followed by Rose and Michelle, and a team of aides and security guys. The onlookers stand in complete silence as Abner approaches the memorial and lays a wreath there. He stands back up, and confidently straightens his back, ready to make a speech. One woman yells at him, “Why didn’t you do anything? You could have stopped this!” Abner gives her a filthy look as his security guys go after her and try to drag her away. Others in the crowd start to yell angry epithets and fight with the security guys. Abner watches the situation quickly dissolving before him. Michelle leans in to speak to Rose, “I have shit to do today.” Rose steps up to Abner, “Are you going to make your address?” Abner turns around and walks back into the palace. Rose follows him. Inside, he turns into an elevator, and Rose gets in just as the door shuts. Rose, “Something similar happened to Silas, once. The crowd tried to heckle him, he just said, ‘enough!’ and that was it, they went silent. He knew how to command a crowd.” Abner, “I’m not Silas!” Rose, “That much is obvious.” They stand in awkward silence for a moment, and then to door dings open. They both step out. Before the go off in opposite directions, Abner turns to Rose, “I want to hold my coronation ball in two weeks.” Rose, “What? No, it’s far too early for that.” Abner, “I am desperate for anything that will make me look like a king right now.” Rose, “It’s disrespectful to Silas.” Abner, “I diligently served him for thirty years, no one respects Silas more than I do!” Rose, “A normal palace ball takes months to plan, you can't just put one together in two weeks. A coronation ball is a national celebration of a new king. It will take three months alone just to get Emma's dress made.” Abner, “If there are two people in the world who can put together a decent ball in two weeks, it’s you and Thomasina. I know what you’re capable of.” Rose, “This really isn’t going to solve your image problem. If you want to be seen as a king, you have to act like a king, and do kingly things.” Abner, muttering, “I have to kill Shepherd.” Rose thinks for a long moment, and says, “If you announce today, we may be able to pull something off in a month. It may lack the full sparkle I could give it, but it will be impressive enough.” Abner, looking relieved, “Thank you, Rose.” Rose, “I’ll get started.”

Rose goes into her office, and speaks to the secretary, “Where is Thomasina? I need her today.” Secretary, “She had to leave. There was some sort of personal matter she had to attend to.” Rose, “Was something wrong?” Secretary, “I don’t know, I just know that she left.”

Thomasina drives her teenage son, Miles, home from school, “I cannot believe you would embarrass me like that! You’re probably going to get expelled!” Miles, “So I’ll go to a new school.” Thomasina, “Expelled is the least of it! If you were anyone else’s son, you’d have been arrested!” Miles, “Exactly, I was the one who did it because they’re gonna keep it quiet because nobody wants it getting out there that the palace director’s son is out there supporting the AFG.” Thomasina, “And if it gets out, I could have to make a public apology!” Miles, “We were celebrating the defeat of a deadly terrorist. Maybe if the king you serve actually gave a fuck, we’d be celebrating him.” Thomasina, “Don’t you dare talk to me like that! If I ever spoke to my mother like that-” Her phone rings. Miles, still deeply sarcastic, “I wonder who that is.” Thomasina answers her phone, “Yes, ma’am.” Miles, “You aren’t supposed to talk on the phone and drive.” Thomasina shoots him a filthy look, “I- I apologize, ma’am, I- I have a personal matter that I have to attend to,” a pause, “I- I’m sorry he what?” Thomasina sighs deeply, “Yes- yes, I understand. I’ll be right in.” She puts down the phone, and moves into the lane of traffic next to her, and makes a u-turn. Miles, “Where are we going?” Thomasina, “I have to go to work!”

In the bedroom he shares with Asher, David sleeps like a fucking baby. The door opens and Asher enters, “David.” David doesn’t stir. Asher shakes his shoulder, and David groans. Asher, “Hey, you okay?” David rubs his eyes, “Wha?” Asher, “You’re actually getting some sleep. It’s nine o’clock.” David, “Oh. Fuck.” He starts to get up. Asher, “You trying anything new?” David, “No.” Asher, “Seriously? I haven’t seen you sleep that deeply in months.” David gets up without saying anything, and starts getting dressed. Asher, “Anyway, Shay wants to talk to you. We’ve got to decide what we’re gonna do next.” David, “Yeah, okay.” He leaves the room.

David goes out into the main area of the safehouse, Asher following behind him. A memorial is set up for the AFG soldiers lost in the attack. Robert is one of them. A small crowd gathers to look at it and weep. In the middle stands Ryan, with his arm around Beth. David sees Ryan and Beth. Asher, “Everyone’s waiting in the other room.” David, distracted, “Yeah, just hold on a second, I- I need to take care of something.” He goes over to Ryan, “Ryan, can I, uh, talk to you?” Beth stares hard at the memorial. Ryan, “Yeah, what?” David, “I, um- I-I think you and uh Liam and Adam should maybe go to another safehouse.” Ryan, “What, why?” David, “Safety. I made Ethan and James go somewhere else.” Ryan glances down at Beth, “You sure I can’t stay here?” David, quickly, “Beth can go with you.” Beth still doesn’t look up. Ryan, “No, she can’t, she runs this house.” David, “What?” Ryan smiles a little bit, “I ended up here for a couple of weeks before going on to Nob. That’s how we met.” David, “Oh.” Finally, Beth looks at David. David looks down at his feet, “I um, I still think it’d be better of you guys were somewhere else. I want to spread everyone out.” Shay speaks up, “What if this place gets raided?” David, “We can still defend it & get out.” Shay, “You want me, Isaiah, and Joel to go somewhere else, too?” David, annoyed, “Maybe, I dunno, I still need to think about things!” Beth, quietly, “I think we can handle it, if it’s just for a little while.” Ryan, disappointed, “Yeah, okay, I guess.” David, “Good! Go tell Liam and Adam.” Asher calls, “David, come on!” David, “I’ll talk to you later, then!” He hurries over to Asher. Asher, “What was that all about?” David, “Safety!”

AFG leadership meeting. Shay, “The palace announced that the day of the coronation ball, Abner is going to dedicate a big memorial to Silas in the Kings Park. This looks like a perfect opportunity for the drone.” Joel, “I’ve mapped out a number of potential routes for Abner to take from the palace to the park. We can set lookouts along all of them, tell us where he’s going.” Isaiah, “I can’t drop on his limousine, it’s bomb-proof.” Joel, “I know, but you can get him when he steps out of the limo. If you wanna do that, you still need to know what direction he’s coming from.” Isaiah, “I can try. I’ve been doing my best to perfect this plan, but I can’t. We can still try it, but honestly, I think it’s a good idea to come up with a plan in case this thing doesn’t work.” David, “We don’t need an extraction plan, not if the drone is controlled remotely.” Isaiah, “I’m not talking about an extraction plan, I’m talking about a taking control of Shiloh plan. Like we tried planning back in Nob.” David, “We saw what happened at Nob.” Shay, “I kind of think he’s right, David. Taking over Shiloh was the first idea we had, and it’s the best idea we’ve had. It’s something we should have been trying to do all along.” David sighs and rubs his face, “No civilian deaths. I’ve always been clear about that.” Shay, “The citizens of Shiloh are on our fuckin’ side, David. It’s gonna be easier now than it ever was before.” Joel, “She’s right.” Shay, “I say we start by taking over the MSS building.” David, “That’s insane. We might as well try the palace again.” Shay, “We have the layout of the building. We know how it’s guarded. We’ll bring a big force, and we’ll be prepared.” David, “We were prepared last time.” Shay, “Do you want to get rid of Abner or not? We need to make a drastic move, or else he’ll find us and take us out!” David sighs heavily, “We’re going to try Isaiah’s bomb idea first. If that doesn’t work… We can do the takeover. But I want a plan before we do anything. A real, solid, detailed plan.” Joel, “Can you imagine how the AFG flag will look flying from the roof of the MSS building? We can inspire the whole fuckin’ city to fight. A good, old-fashioned uprising, Red Army style.” David, “Yeah, because the Soviet Union was such a beacon of peace and freedom.” Abby, “We can still take a few notes from the Russian Revolution. We can force Abner to abdicate. He values his life.” David sighs heavily, “Well, it’s a big, confusing plan that’s totally overwhelming and is going cause a lot of destruction and hurt a lot of people. Just like all of our plans. Fuck it. Let’s do it. But only if the drone plan doesn’t work.” Isaiah, “I think I can make the drone work.” David, “If anyone can make it work, you can, Isaiah.” Asher, “Is this really how you want to start an uprising?” David, “Probably not, but it’s honestly how I’m feeling right now.”

Rose talks to Thomasina in a drawing room, “How has the search for a new stylist gone?” Thomasina, “We’re completing backgrounds checks right now, ma’am.” Rose, “Good. I just want a simple black dress. God knows what Michelle is going to wear, probably something that’s going to make me angry. Emma should wear something vibrant, fit for a celebration.” Thomasina jots that down, “Very well.” Rose, “The decorations should be vibrant, as well. It needs to be clear that this is a celebration of Linus as king.” She gazes down at the floor plans of the ballroom, thinking for a moment, “And I want an appropriate memorial for Silas. Nothing too large. Tasteful. But we must remember whose legacy is being carried on.” Thomasina, “Very good idea, ma’am.” Rose looks at Thomasina for a moment, and then says, “I’m sorry for calling you away from your personal matter. I wouldn’t have done it if this wasn’t very important. Linus needs to be seen as a legitimate king.” Thomasina, “I understand. It was a minor issue, anyway, none of your concern.” Rose, “If you need to address it…” Thomasina, “Really, it’s fine. I have it handled.” Rose, “Good.” She looks out over the plans, thinks for a moment, and sighs, “This is going to take a lot of work. I’m afraid we’ve got a lot of late nights ahead of us.” Thomasina, “Perhaps I can speak to the king, explain to him that this can’t be done logistically-” Rose snaps, “Well, it has to get done!” Thomasina looks at her, silent with shock. Rose compasses herself, “I apologize. It’s just good God, if we can’t get people to believe in Linus as king, this country is going to fall apart.” Thomasina, slightly hesitant, “Ma’am, I should confess- Miles got in trouble- well, he and some of his friends had something of an impromptu AFG rally in their school’s courtyard. The school administrators broke it up almost immediately, but I don’t know if anyone was able to record any of it. If footage of it should go online, I’m afraid someone might recognize Miles as my son. It could be an issue.” Rose, “We’ll just have to make sure nothing gets online, then, won’t we?” Thomasina, “Of course.” Rose, “Where is Miles, now?” Thomasina, “I sent him to work with the maintenance staff.” Rose, “Good. Excellent. Hopefully he’ll learn from this.” She turns and looks down at the plans laid out on the table in front of her. Thomasina looks at her watch, “They’ll be making the press announcement soon.” Rose, “Yes, yes, I don’t need to see it.” She stares down hard at the plans and shoes her head, “This is a mess, this is all a goddamn mess…”

Michelle sits next to Jack on his bed. Helen sits in a chair next to them. Michelle, “I’m supposed to be picking out a dress for Abner’s coronation ball.” Helen, “So soon? I thought new kings were supposed to at least wait six months before their coronation balls.” Michelle, “I’m pretty sure David killing Alek Amal has something to do with it,” she holds up three pictures of skimpy black dresses, “Which is the most inappropriate?” Helen, “Number three.” Michelle looks at the pictures, “That’s the one Jack chose, too. I think I’m gonna go with it.” Jack makes a soft noise of assent. Helen, “How have the two of you been doing?” Michelle, “Okay. Jack’s been vocalizing a lot more. He might get some actual words soon.” She smiles warmly at him. Helen, “The palace seems to be such a strange place these days, announcing the early coronation ball is just adding to it. It’s like nobody’s really taking the time to acknowledge what losing Silas really means.” Michelle looks at her, “It means we lost a man who never really gave a shit about anyone else. Why should anyone give a shit about him?” Helen, “Rose lost her husband. Abner lost a good friend. You two lost your father.” Michelle, “And what did you lose?” Helen, “I lost the man I loved to a realization of what kind of man he really is. As angry as I am at Silas, I’ve learned to grieve for Seth’s father.” Jack shuts his eyes and blows an angry snort through his nose. Helen, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you angry.” Michelle quietly, “He’s angry because he can’t talk.” Helen, “Do you really have no good memories of Silas?” Michelle, “I do. But I can’t speak for Jack. And all my memories are warped by lies and the things I chose to ignore. I don’t really know if I can call them happy memories anymore.” Helen, “You lost the father you loved.” Michelle, “You’ve spent almost a year surrounded by psychiatrists. If I’m gonna grieve for anything these days, it’s gonna be for the fact that I can’t be with my girlfriend, okay? The same goes for Jack. He really misses David, and seeing footage of him fighting Alek Amal doesn’t help.” Helen, “I’m sorry. But I know acknowledging what I lost with Silas has helped make grieving for Seth a little bit easier.” Michelle, “You can talk to Rose about losing Silas. I’m done with him.” Helen, “Are you calling him Silas again?” Michelle, “I don’t know!”

Abner sits across his desk from Reinhardt, “Caesar, my coronation ball is in a month, and it’s of the utmost importance that in that time, I make some kind of victory against Shepherd. I want to be able to celebrate.” Reinhardt, “What do you want me to do? The AFG remains well-hidden and well-protected. Shepherd’s followers are loyal. They don’t give up AFG secrets, even under the worst torture.” Abner, “Anything. I want you to do anything.” Reinhardt nods, “All right. I won’t disappoint you, sir.” Abner, “Thank you.”

In a private room, Asher talks to Abby and David. Asher, “I was cleaning up a little bit, and I found this,” he holds up a torn condom wrapper. David, “Looks like someone got lucky.” Asher, “I’m not getting laid. Abby’s not getting laid. I suspect if I asked Shay, Joel, and Isaiah, they’d confirm that they aren’t getting laid.” David, “You should ask them, maybe they are!” Asher gives David a look. Abby steps up to David and looks him hard in the eye, “Daaaaavid?” David, “What?” Abby gives him the slap of his life. David, “Ah, okay, I deserve that!” Asher, “Did you sleep with someone?” David, “I might have.” Asher, “Who?” David, “A girl named Beth!” Abby slaps him again. David, “I deserve that one, too!” Abby, “What the fuck, David!” David, “I’m sorry.” Abby, “If there is anyone here who should be shoulders-deep in pussy, it should be me, but I’m not, because I fucking love Michelle and I would never fucking do that to her! And I didn’t just publicly declare my love for her after she got shot in the fucking head!” David, “Yeah, well, you didn’t just unwittingly get your brother killed and trigger the worst terrorist attack in the history of Gilboa, did you?” Abby, “I am not going to lie for you! I am willing to do some pretty fucked up shit for you, but I am not going to lie! Not about this!” Asher rubs his face, “This makes things really complicated for us, David.” David, “I know! I fucking know!” Asher, “Why would you even do this?” David, “Because I’m a fucking idiot, and I haven’t seen, much less fucked Jack in over five months!” Abby, dripping with sarcasm, “Ooooh, you haven’t seen Jack in a long time, that must be sooooo fucking difficult! I can’t imaaaagine how hard it must be to keep it in your fucking pants! Do you honestly think you’re the only one here who’s lonely and horny?!” David, “I actually went to sleep last night and didn’t have a nightmare! I can’t remember the last time that happened!” Asher, “You need to think about what you’re going to tell people if word of this gets out. And I’m with Abby, I’m not going to lie for you, either.” David, “So what should I fucking tell people?” Asher, “The truth.” David, “What, just make a press conference, hey, I’m fucking weak, I cheated on the person I love, please support my rebellion?” Asher, “This is what you’ll say only if the word gets out. I’m not gonna do anything to compromise the rebellion, neither is Abby. But secrets have a way of being uncovered, and you’re a shitty liar.” David sighs heavily, “Shit.” Abby, “What were you even thinking?” David, “I wasn’t. I was lonely and horny, and I did something incredibly fucking stupid.” Abby, “I’d like to scream at you right now, but I know that nothing I can say will be worse than the fact that you’re gonna have to be the one who tells Jack. That is, if he doesn’t hear about it on the news, first.” David doesn’t say anything, and blinks away tears. Asher, “Acknowledge what you did, David. Don’t lie about it. Apologize for it, and then never fucking do it again.” They stand quietly for a moment, and Asher goes on, “Where are Ethan and James? You should be with them.” David, “I sent them to another house.” Asher, “Why?” David, “Because seeing them makes this whole thing real!” Asher, gently prodding, “Makes what real?” David, “Robert! If Ethan and James are gone, then he’s just gone, too! If Ethan and James are there, but not Robert…. then he’s dead.” David sobs for a moment, but then struggles to regain his composure. Asher, “You need to be able to mourn. You do really stupid shit when you bottle up all your feelings.” David, “I can mourn when this war is over. In the meantime, I’ve got shit to do.” He leaves the room.

At sundown, Thomasina walks Miles towards her car in the upper levels of the palace parking garage. She unlocks the car, and they both get in. Thomasina, starting the car, “We’ll pick up some fast food for dinner, but we’re getting what I want.” Miles, “Fine.” Thomasina sits there, contemplative. Miles looks at her, “We going?” Thomasina, “You can’t do what you did today.” Miles rolls his eyes, “Yeah, I know, treason and all…” Thomasina, “It’s not that,” she looks at him, “You may think what you did was inconsequential, but you’re very wrong.” Miles, “There was a bigger demonstration outside of the palace this afternoon!” Thomasina, “Yes, but you weren’t in it! You’re my son! The palace cannot afford another embarrassment!” Miles, “Handling embarrassments is what you do! It’s what you leave me alone at home to do.” Thomasina, “Do you know how close this country is to a catastrophe?” Miles, “You mean what happened with the Amalekites wasn’t a catastrophe?” Thomasina, getting emotional, “I mean being utterly destroyed. Invaded by both Gath and Ammon and torn apart. Linus Abner is only able to be king because people believe in him, and right now, any loss of faith could mean Gilboa is done for. Actions have consequences, Miles, “Why are you serving someone you don’t believe in?” Thomasina, “I serve my country, and I protect it. You should, too.” Miles, “You and I want the same thing, Mom. Someone needs to defend this country, and Linus Abner ain’t it.” Thomasina starts the car, “You can’t be foolish.” She backs out of the parking space, “Foolishness will get us all killed.”

Michelle enters Jack’s room, carrying two styrofoam boxes in a plastic bag, “Hey, brought you some dinner.” She goes to set up a bed table for him. Jack, automatically, without thinking, “Thank you.” Michelle looks at him, surprised, “Did you just say thank you?” Jack grins at her, “Thank you.” Michelle smiles, laughs, and hugs him tightly, “I thought for sure your first word would be David.” Jack, “David.” Michelle, “Now you’re just showing off!” She sniffs loudly, holding him for a moment, and then goes back to setting up his dinner. Michelle, “I really wish David could be here. He’d be so fucking proud of you right now.” She goes quiet, and sits down in a chair. She opens her box of food, and they both start eating.

Late at night, David pulls his pants on while Beth puts her top back on. Beth glances over at David, “Ryan’s barely my boyfriend, you know.” David looks at her, “What?” Beth, “Just. In case you were worried about that.” David, “Oh. Yeah.” Beth nervously goes on, “I mean we met because he spent a few days in a safehouse I was running, outside of Nob. We kept this silly kind of long-distance relationship going because you know, distraction. I never considered it serious or anything.” David, “Yeah, great to know.” He turns away and climbs back up the staircase. At the top of the stairs, David looks up and is shocked to see Joel waiting at the end of the hallway. David, startled, "Uh, hi, what's up?” Joel, “What’s up with you?” David, “Nothing.” Joel, “I heard your voice.” David, “Yeeeaaaah….” He stands there, awkwardly. Joel, “This why you moved Ryan and the others out?” David, “That was for safety. So we all don’t get caught in a raid…” Joel, “You need to be a lot more careful, man. This could be real bad for us if it gets out.” David, “You need to keep this quiet.” Joel claps him on the shoulder, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” David, “Thank you.”

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spilledreality · 6 years

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the hippie phenomenon

“The New Yorker has always dealt with experience not by trying to understand it but by prescribing the attitude to be adopted toward it. This makes it possible to feel intelligent without thinking, and it is a way of making everything tolerable, for the assumption of a suitable attitude toward experience can give one the illusion of having dealt with it adequately.”

—Robert Warshow, "E. B. White and the New Yorker"

I wanna take issue with Kerouac and Didion, not so much with their writing’s literary value but as cultural criticism. Chance aside, a prerequisite of good criticism as I see it is a penetrating, upper-percentile comprehension of the subject at hand, coupled with an epistemic humility sufficient to the task of staying open-minded. Both Kerouac and Didion, though they represent opposite sides of the cultural and political coin, seem most primarily in judgment of their subjects, rather than intrigued by them. Both their practices show a dedication to deduction over induction, which is to say the opposite of learning. There is little demonstrated effort to adequately reconcile their worldviews, motivations, and values with that of an other (in Kerouac’s case, PTA moms and nuclear families; in Didion’s, the acidfreaks of Haight-Ashbury). Any good lawyer will tell you, if you don’t adequately understand your opponent’s position, your rebuttal will follow in inadequacy, cf. Ideological Turing Tests.

Here's Kerouac in My Woman describing a job application (one implication being that the American laborer is a drone, a zombie, whose guise Jack and his friends must take on to get hired):

We entered [the office] with our arms stretched out in front of us [drunk] like the zombies we'd seen in a picture the other day; we made our feet go slow and automatic like the ghost of death. We asked the man for a job. The poor idiot said, 'I don't think you boys will do.' We got out of there... laughing at the top of our lungs.

As the 50s turned into the 60s, the Beat ethos into flower power, Kerouac drifted into Long Island alcoholism; Ginsberg adapted, stayed relevant. The transition between decades bridged by the Merry Pranksters’ cross-country quest to "tune out, drop out" in a refurbished 1939 school bus per Wolfe’s Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test.

On assignment for The Saturday Evening Post, Joan Didion traveled to the Haight-Ashbury district of San Francisco, where she saw posters of Ginsberg hung on the walls and devotees treated his opinions on the Krishna as of equal authority with the Swami. Didion saw a world falling apart, spiritually and socially in crisis. People forget, so it's worth reminding that Didion was not a progressive in this era. She was a National Review contributor and a Goldwater voter. And while I have no problem with her political conservatism, it’s important to link “Slouching” with the general moral hysteria over longhairedness taking place at the time, a hysteria which contributed in large part to Nixon's presidential and Reagan's gubernatorial elections.

The central argument (or assumption, or presumption of “Slouching” is that San Francisco is home to a generation of children (some literally, some relative maturity) who have embarked on an extended bad trip (either literally or figuratively) from which they may not ever return. Affectless and out-of-it, they show emotion only when discussing, acquiring, or ingesting narcotics (peyote, acid, smack, crystal, amps, and a now-mysterious “STP”). “Pathetically unequipped" for the real world, they lack any serious political convictions or critical thinking abilities, instead swimming in self-delusion and macrobiotic diets.

I can't speak of Dideon's intent so I'll stick to her prose, sociopathic in its lack of empathy and interest. The essay’s divided into bits so that each section sports an ominous closing sentence cum punchline-zinger. Interviewees divide into strawmen or caricatures; none are depicted or explored as complex, flesh-and-blood human beings. Juvenile delinquents and drug dealers are picked as the primary representative spokespeople of a sizable neighborhood and subculture. There’s Debbie, 15, a runaway because “[her] parents said she had to go to Church.” There’s John, 16, who has left home because his mother “didn't like boots” and made him help out around the house: “Tell about the chores,” Debbie says. John: “For example, I had chores. If I didn't finish ironing my shirts for the week I couldn't go out for the weekend. It was weird, wow.” Shortly after her wide-eyed relay on chores, Didion recounts Debbie literally chipping a nail, then getting upset that the author isn't carrying extra polish on her. I'd say you can't make this stuff up, but I'm tempted to invoke Richard Bradley:

Some years ago, when I was an editor at George magazine, I was unfortunate enough to work with the writer Stephen Glass on a number of articles. They proved to be fake, filled with fabrications, as was pretty much all of his work. The experience was painful but educational; it forced me to examine how easily I had been duped. Why did I believe those insinuations about Bill Clinton-friend Vernon Jordan being a lech? About the dubious ethics of uber-fundraiser (now Virginia governor) Terry McAuliffe? The answer, I had to admit, was because they corroborated my pre-existing biases. I was well on the way to believing that Vernon Jordan was a philanderer, for example—everyone seemed to think so, back in the ’90s, during the Monica Lewinsky time.

I can't say whether Didion fabricated these stories. It doesn't matter either way. A piece which confirms existing biases of its readers, or which confirms its own initial biases at its start, doing little more than elaborate variations on a stereotype for thousands of words, is poor criticism and shoddy historiography.

A generic structure for a given section of “Slouching”: observe events unraveling around her, hazard a guess at (and editorialize heavily on) what is occurring, entertain the possibility of asking a participant or knowledgeable observer for more accurate information, and then—inexplicably—decide not to. In other words, there’s a lack of respect for her subjects’ subjectivity, or for her own ability to be wrong. Equally as incredible as this journalistic practice is Didion’s willingness to admit to it (and in the same breath berate Time and other publications for their own misunderstandings of the hippie phenomenon).

Didion gets haughty at points, seamlessly transitioning from picking on a teenager’s amateur poetry to a bout of philosophical reflection:

As it happens, I am still committed to the idea that the ability to think for one's self depends upon mastery of the language and I am not optimistic about children who will settle for saying, to indicate that their mother and father do not live together, that they come from a “broken home.”

For myself, I’m not so hot about the idea of a journalist who dedicates forty pages to belittling literal teenage runaways, especially when so many avenues of more substantial cultural interest are ignored. It’s off-handedly mentioned that McLuhan is read by many in the Haight community, as are the Hari Krishna and the writings of Zen Buddhism, but Didion never meaningfully pursues any of the community's beliefs.

Some of the more interesting documents on this subject come from the exchanges between literary, Cold War liberal moderates and the generation of beatniks and hippies who were pulling the country toward a more radical vision. Adam Kirsch’s Why Trilling Matters charts the relationship between Lionel Trilling and his former student at Columbia, Allen Ginsberg. (Kirsch, drawing on Trilling, distinguishes between the Blakean and Wordsworthean impulse, Wordsworth a “representative of wisdom,” Blake as the blazing voice of passion. As Trilling writes, Blake's poetry would be one of the more significant influences on the art and voice of Sixties counterculture: “American undergraduates seem to be ever more alienated from the general body of English literature, but they have for some time made an exception of William Blake... uniquely relevant to their spiritual aspirations” and acting as a model for its “transvaluation of social and aesthetic values.”)

Equally good is the lifelong correspondence between Allen and his also-poet father Louis Ginsberg. Trilling and L.’s sensibilities are of moderation and qualification, both sure only of their own fallibility; the Blakean hubris is an ideology propping up conceits of heroism, a Manichean dualism where only the counterculture keeps it real. “Save me from that mixed-up, confused view of the Beat Generation which maintains it has a blueprint of Truth, obviously handed over to them in a mystic, blinding revelation from Heaven," Louis wrote to his son in ‘58.

An avid communist in the early-to-mid 1960s (before a trip to Cuba changed his mind w/r/t the freedom of its citizens¹) Allen berated his father in letter after letter over Lou's democratic socialist views, and got bit back:

Your holier-than-thou attitude, with your noble intentions, does not prove that you have a Heavenly blueprint of the truth. You may be a great poet, as I believe you are, but you can still have false ideas and false facts, despite your noble intentions. T.S. Eliot and Pound had Fascist ideas.

One more excerpt, for joy:

Dear Allen,

You have a right to your opinion, according to your lights; but I retain my energetic insistence to differ with you... on your whole Beat Generation's views that everything that is, to paraphrase Pope, is wrong. Everything, according to your views, is all wrong, all in ruins, all warmongering, all immoral—except you (plural; i.e., the Beat Generation). Nobody wants “beauty, poetry, freedom” but you (plural)... all is false; all civilization messed up, all progress in the wrong, false track; all doomed... (March 10, 1958)

The truth the Beats claimed to seek or else contain was partly religious, the result of chemical visions, Ginsberg hearing Blake’s voice come to him mid-orgasm, Cassady meditating. But it was also of the writers’ attempted escape from social structure, to chase an idea of the authentic self as the self unencumbered by the social. Trilling “...the idea of... surrendering oneself to experience without regard to... conventional morality, of escaping wholly from the societal bonds, is an ‘element’ somewhere in the mind of every modern person.” Hence the enormous success of On the Road, which functions as simulation, a virtual joyride for those unwilling, unable, or who know better than to take such a trip themselves.

Morris Dickstein, Gates of Eden:

Postwar prosperity had provided [sixties radicals] with the freedom to protest, the freedom to run wild, and the luxury of dropping out without worrying about a job. But by the 1970s the economy turned sour and, as I wrote in [the 1977 edition of] this book, “we could see how much the rainbow colors of the culture of the sixties were built on the fragile bubble of a despised affluence, an economic boom that was simply taken for granted.”

This is not to invalidate the legitimacy of radicals’ complaints, but to complicate the picture of inheritance in dissent.

It’s no secret the Beats were a stretch short of sainthood. Cassady and Kerouac were philanderers, promising women marriages only to subsequently abandon them (illegitimate children included). Cars were stolen only to be drunkenly totaled. And Carr, of course, infamously knifed an overly attached romantic pursuer in Manhattan's Riverside Park, dumping his body in the Hudson River under conditions still unclear today.

Tied up in this transgressiveness is the question of privilege, a critique which Diana Trilling, wife of the famous Lionel, launches in her essay for Partisan Review, “The Other Night at Columbia”:

I had heard about [Ginsberg] much more than I usually hear of students for the simple reason that he got into a great deal of trouble which involved his instructors, and had to be rescued and revived and restored; eventually he had even to be kept out of jail. Of course there was always the question, should this young man be rescued, should he be restored? There was even the question, shouldn’t he go to jail? We argued about it some at home but the discussion, I’m afraid, was academic, despite my old resistance to the idea that people like Ginsberg had the right to ask and receive preferential treatment just because they read Rimbaud and Gide and undertook to put words on paper themselves.

Alexander:

The “heroes” of On The Road consider themselves ill-done by and beaten-down. But they are people who can go anywhere they want for free, get a job any time they want, hook up with any girl in the country, and be so clueless about the world that they’re pretty sure being a 1950s black person is a laugh a minute. On The Road seems to be a picture of a high-trust society. Drivers assume hitchhikers are trustworthy and will take them anywhere. Women assume men are trustworthy and will accept any promise. Employers assume workers are trustworthy and don’t bother with background checks. It’s pretty neat. But On The Road is, most importantly, a picture of a high-trust society collapsing. And it’s collapsing precisely because the book’s protagonists are going around defecting against everyone they meet at a hundred ten miles an hour.

I would hesitate to agree that America in the early 20th century was markedly higher-trust than modern times. Rates of violent crime in the interwar period are comparable to the highs of the 70s crime wave, and despite sagging post-1945, were only slightly lower in Kerouac's time than our own. (Trust != crime, I know.) But the mechanisms of opportunity and exploitation remain in play. It is a phenomenon in which transgressive parties advocate for their transgressive way of life as a replacement to the present social order, without realizing or acknowledging that their transgressions are logistically possible through this very structure. Behavior is advocated as moral in Beat writing which would fall apart as a Kantian imperative.

In Kerouac this is both identitarian and pragmatic; J.K.’s lifestyle is possible because it exploits a trusting industrial society and its hard-earned resources. But in Maggie Nelson’s queer theory, it’s primarily a matter of identity and spirituality, where transgression is an end (autotelic) in itself. This is the paradoxical relationship of hegemony to the queer: it is at once mortal enemy and dearest ally, struggle’s basis in every sense of the word.

The Argonauts is frequently brilliant; its idea of flux (“a constant becoming which never becomes”) is infinitely valuable. But Nelson condemns at every turn the category, the pigeon-hole, the label. Words to her are cages which imprison minds and bodies. And yet both Nelson and Kerouac seem not to acknowledge that the lifestyles and self-images they hold so valuable—the rebellion, transgression, and self-elevation practiced by Kerouac; the queerness valued by Nelson—are possible only through the existence of a majority body or structure from which to self-elevate and self-other. They are advocating for identities of negation as if they were autonomous.

[1] Ginsberg was expelled from Cuba in February of 1965 for "talking too much about marijuana & sex & capital punishment"; he traveled from there to the less oppressive Czechoslovakia.

#jack kerouac #joan didion #allen ginsberg #william blake #adam kirsch #lionel trilling #maggie nelson #scott alexander #slate star codex

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obsessedwiththebatman · 7 years

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Adam West may have died earlier this month, but his legacy — and tenure — as Mayor of Quahog will live on during the next season of Family Guy. The late actor — who died at the age of 88 on June 10 — is, of course, best and forever known for starring as Batman in the 1960s TV series. (He also shined in Conan O’Brien and Robert Smigel’s 1991 NBC comedy pilot Lookwell.) But he had a significant and delightful recurring role on Family Guy, appearing in more than 100 episodes as Mayor Adam West, the sonorously-toned and downright delusional politician who once tried to marry his hand (and, at another time, sought revenge on the ocean by trying to stab it). His most recent appearance came just last month, but, as it turns out, that won’t be West’s last on-air contribution to the show. Before he died, West had also recorded lines for several episodes slated for next season, and EW has learned that the producers of the animated Fox comedy have decided that they will honor West and his legacy by airing those episodes. (The show paid tribute to him on June 18 with a title card before a rebroadcast of the March episode “The Dating Game,” and earlier this month, Family Guy creator Seth MacFarlane saluted him on Twitter, concluding with, “Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all that you have given, Mr. Mayor. You’re irreplaceable.”) In the following interview, Family Guy executive producer Steve Callaghan — who wrote the first episode featuring West, which aired back in 2000 — remembers the late actor, his contributions to the show, and the plan to keep his memory alive by giving you more West in the coming year. “He’s gone,” says Callaghan, “but we can still enjoy his tremendous work for a while longer. ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: How much of a shock was Adam’s death to everyone at Family Guy? I understand that his battle with leukemia wasn’t very long. STEVE CALLAGHAN: It came as a complete shock. If I get emotional in this conversation, I apologize. It was very shocking, which seems like such an odd thing to say about someone who is in their late 80s. But, the thing about Adam West is that every time he would come to record, he was just vital and healthy and had so much energy and happiness — no one that you would ever think wouldn’t be with you much longer. So it was very shocking, and it wasn’t that long ago… that he was here. We will miss him a lot. He brought so much to the show, and, of course, we’ll miss the character because it’s such a funny character. But we’ll just miss having his presence here in the office. There are not enough positive adjectives in the language to use to describe Adam West. He’s just such a wonderful, sweet, hilarious, kind guy. It’s a real blow to the show, but to us personally — those of us who have known him so long and have had the good fortune to work with him for so long. How would you sum up what he meant to the show? He’s been in more than 100 episodes. I’ve worked on pretty much every episode and it just so happened, luck of the draw, my very first episode writing for the show was the [season 2 episode, “Fifteen Minutes of Shame”] that introduced his character. It was an episode that started out with Quahog Clam Day — we were inventing this fictional event that happened in town every year, a day centered on clams, just because it seemed so idiotic — and Seth was the one who suggested, “Well, we need to have the mayor there to introduce this town-wide event.” So, we’re kicking around who would that be and what would the character of the mayor be, and I remember Seth saying, “What about Adam West?” And I [said], “Oh, he could be funny. What would the mayor’s name be or what would the character be?” And he said, “No, just Adam West. Like, he’s the mayor of the town.” I laughed and I thought, “Well, I don’t get it.” And he said, “Yeah, it would just be Adam West, and we’ll just never mention Batman, and it’s just a given that he’s the mayor.” We all just really laughed and sparked to that idea. And Seth had had a past working relationship with him because— He worked with him on Johnny Bravo. Seth had such a great time working with him and it turned out to be such a perfect choice. So he came in and did the part, and from the first record, we knew this is going to be a great asset to the show. He was such a valuable part of the universe, because not only did he have some sort of utility in that there are storylines that can benefit from having a mayor driving the story, but just as a comedic engine — he has almost virtually no straight lines. Because almost everything that comes out of that guy’s mouth is a joke. And it’s pretty remarkable, even on a show like ours. Even Peter Griffin has to have a fair number of straight lines. Mayor Adam West was just an almost endless source of comedy, and you could very reliably go to him to get you out of a scene, or to add comedy whenever and wherever you needed it. So, he meant a lot to us in terms of being a principle character on the series for so long, but [also as] just a very reliable place to go to for laughs. And then, as the series progressed, he became even more meaningful to the series because in addition to just being the mayor, we had a whole episode dedicated to him meeting and falling in love with Lois’s sister, so he became Peter’s brother-in-law. I think that’s just a reflection of how much we love weaving that character into episodes, because he was always so fun to be a part of the show. It made natural, evolutionary sense to have him move from being just the mayor to being the mayor and someone who shows up at Thanksgiving dinner with a bowl of marshmallow Peeps. He was just a great character to have around, and it will certainly take some getting used to figure out how we are going to go forward without this great character to rely upon. What was a recording session with him like? Did he ad-lib a lot? I used to always look forward to any chance I got to direct Adam. I was a huge, huge fan of Batman when I was growing up. They would show reruns after school when I would get home. And I was such a fan, that as a kindergartner, I cajoled my mother into stitching me a Batman costume that I wore to school. Not on Halloween, mind you, just on a regular Thursday. And if 6-year-old me would have ever imagined that years later I would have a personal friendship, or work relationship at least, it would have blown my mind. And I always loved recording him. It was just like seeing an old friend, and there was always the some amount of catching up and chatting and finally one of us would say, “Well, I guess we should get to work here.” He always had such a blast and was very game for anything, which was so nice. I can think of one example in all the years when he asked, “Can we change this line a little bit?” We would put anything in front of him. There’s a ridiculous line from an episode years ago where he’s standing on a street corner saying to a passing woman, he says, “Hey, baby. Wanna take a gander at some Adam West penis?” And he’s like, “Okay, I’ll do it.” He just was such a good sport. Always really funny. So easy to work with, easy to take direction, and sometimes he’d ad-lib or expand on something or go, “How about if I do it this way?” And he’d do something that was invariably funnier than what we had on the page, and was just a really good sport with a great sense of humor. The one other thing that I definitely, definitely felt from him was such appreciation. He was so happy and thankful to be a part of Family Guy. And he, on more than one occasion with me, would marvel at the fact that he now had fans who knew him only as the mayor of Quahog, and didn’t even know him as Batman — younger fans, of course. He would remark that he would go out in the world and he liked that people would come up to him and talk to him about how much they enjoyed his performances on the show, and that that meant a lot to him and made him feel good. He was very appreciative for that… I think he really loved being part of the show as much as we loved having him. Do you have a favorite memory of Adam? It’s hanging on the wall of our writers’ room. When we had our 100th episode [party], we invited him and all the cast. I believe he lived, at the time, in Idaho. And he wasn’t going to make it to the party. So, instead, he RSVP-ed by sending us a handwritten fax to our office. [Retrieves the RSVP fax.] It’s dated Oct. 25, 2007. It says, “To Sethmaster and gang, Congratulations on your 100th birthday. You just don’t look it. I’d like to be there, but I’m in the far mountains of Idaho trying to emulate Into the Wild. There in spirit, Mayor West.” It was just such a hilariously, but so specifically Adam West-y way to respond — to RSVP to the 100th episode party with a handwritten fax. It was full of jokes and good humor and congratulations. It just summed up who he was: sweet, warm, kind, supportive, and a little bit oddball-y in an endearing way…. It just makes me smile when I look at it. Because you work so far ahead in animation, how many episodes did Adam record lines for that haven’t aired yet? Mayor West will be in five more episodes of the show that are scheduled to air this coming season. Was there ever any discussion of whether or not you should run these episodes? No. He’s such an integral part of the series that it never even occurred to us to take that out. I would almost feel like that was somehow not properly honoring him. I think the proper way to honor him is to keep the character in the show. There were two or three episodes where his character had been written in, but he hadn’t yet recorded those, so obviously we’ve made accommodations for that. There was one scene where he was officiating a wedding, and it was easy enough to just have a different character do that. I [wouldn’t] even consider having someone come in and try to imitate his voice. Sometimes, after someone passes away, some of the jokes don’t seem appropriate anymore. Did he actually record even more than the five episodes, but some of it won’t be used? He recorded these five and there was nothing at any point that we watched and thought, “Oh, we can’t put that on the air because it doesn’t feel appropriate.”… Nothing really fell into the category for us where we felt like that would be uncomfortable to watch on TV. It’s just him being his regular silly, goofy self. How will you address his death on the show? What will happen to the character? We haven’t exactly decided how we’re going to address the departure of Adam West’s character from the series. In fact, this is something that we’ve been dealing with concerning the loss of Carrie Fisher [who was a recurring guest voice]. But what I can say is that both of their departures from the show will certainly reflect the importance that each of those characters — and actors — had within our series. Has there been any talk of keeping the mayor’s office vacant in his memory? That is something we’ve only barely started to talk about. In a very real, emotional way, I feel like we’re all still kind of going through our own grieving process. We haven’t really even had a full conversation about it. He just seems so irreplaceable. I don’t know who could fill those shoes. If we do replace him, it would probably be a character that is very different, or maybe Quahog just goes without a mayor for a little while. There could very well be a situation where we leave that office empty as a tribute for at least some period of time. It’s been a little too painful for us really get too deep into that conversation just yet. What can we expect from Mayor West in these coming episodes? At one point, Mayor West comes into possession of the $1 bill as he is hover-boarding through town with a rat in his pocket. Mayor West riding a hoverboard with a rat in his pocket — that’s certainly something to look forward to…. Later in the season, Mayor West is called upon to preside over a ceremony for a group of millennials. It does not go well. What do you hope that fans think about when they watch these new episodes with Adam? I hope that they just really appreciate what a fun and funny character he has been to the series all these years. And how much we’ll miss him, everyone here at Family Guy. We were very lucky to be able to work with him as long as we did, and to benefit from his tremendous sense of humor, but also his warmth and kindness. What I hope people take from it is just a real appreciation for how much he brought to the series all these years, and how hard it’s going to be to fill the vacancy that he’s leaving. You can’t fill it. You really can’t. But he’s as funny in these upcoming episodes as he’s been. And what else I love about the character is that there’s a bit of lunacy, but sort of sweetness to it, too. He’s always such a positive, upbeat kook that you can’t help but love him because there’s no malice or anything in that character. I love that character so much because he could just be this fun-loving crazy guy. And it was always a joy to watch on screen — and to watch the actor himself deliver those lines in the booth.

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