#most of the time such things are not bad or goor or wrong or right

[katyspersonal]

I know it's morning where you are but on tumblr it's always sleepover time so now it's your turn, tell me about YOUR CRUSH (revenge time hehe)

It is also always sleepover time for me as long as I am sick and should stay in bed xd (I say as I have a work shift today :') )

Hoooo boy... The last time I had a crush it evolved into being full on in love (without return), so I am not even sure if that counts? But I was attracted to how deep and complex he was. How he spoke very honest, very direct and sinsere speech, without any manipulation, terminally online terms or American college buzz-words. How he loved books, art, music, poetry, nature, history, science, to learn about various religions across the world and time, and dabbed into spirituality- actually, it is easier to name what smartypants thing he did NOT love than what he loved dfhhdsg He also had very big range of emotions and a lot of painful, intimate experiences to share, and there was something incredibly human about how he'd speak about people, animals, his special interests, life in general. Though in retrospective, he fell for the trope of that misantropic villain / morally grey character that is being abnormally edgy about hating humans, thinking that only art/religion/both could save their souls, but loved and cherished every single animal xD I still think it is incredibly attractive, as frustrating as it can be to deal with it.

In general, life is not a poorly written fanfic, so normally when two broken people find each other, odds are, they'll not heal one another but only hurt each other more. Is this because they're trying to drag each other down into their Hell instead of reaching for the light together, or it is because they have different idea on what "healing" looks like so they try to "fix" each other by their own ruler, not thinking of this person's TRUE 'healed' state? Hell if I know. It is usually the latter. Most humans are just not capable of snapping out of their own idea of what 'healthy and good' is and to selflessly, genuinely invest into nurturing another person's real self. Reminds me of my early, abandoned idea on what the Doll deal was with G3hrman, or, heck, that official note from FMA creator that Tuck3r was unable to summon Nina's soul back all because he wanted the "idea" of that sweet, innocent daughter that once loved him, and not her true self in her entirety (that'd probably hate him for what he did anyways). We were never an exception. Hell, perhaps the guy was completely in the right to hate humans the way he does!

Alright djhdsfgh Listen, things like this sorta feelings is always something deeply tragic, emotional and complex for me, okay?? This is maybe why I always wreck my ships and can't imagine a happy cottagecore AU even at a gunpoint xd You are always in for a trip when you try talking to me about my crushes that aren't fictional! :')

[emeritus-fuckers]

So uuuh...Repugnant guys with a gf who has small boobs and is kinda embarrassed about it? Please🥺

Repugnant with a small-chested girlfriend

Mary Goore

They're a bit confused about it at first.

Your tits are fine, what are you on about?

They don't understand what's wrong. Like... at all.

So you try to explain it to them and after a while, a lightbulb lights up over their head.

"... hey babe. D'you like my teeth?"

And now you're the one confused, but you tell them that yeah, their teeth are fine.

And so they share an insecurity of their own, said insecurity being their fucked up, crooked teeth. They seem much more casual in sharing their insecurities.

They explain that while they're not too big of a fan when it comes to how their teeth are, ultimately it's not a big issue and anyone who has a problem with it is most likely an asshole just looking to distract themself from their own insecurities.

They tell you that just like their teeth, your chest size isn't really a big deal because it's not the only thing you have going on.

And while it seems like they're brushing off your insecurities at first, the more you think about it, the more you realize they might be right.

At the end of the day, you're more than your chest. And in a way, it's comforting.

DD Sars (FWB, not s/o)

The only reaction you get from him when you bring it up is a very confused "The fuck's wrong with your tits?" (muffled a bit by a piece of the pizza he ordered as aftercare).

He does not see the issue, honestly.

And he does point it out, calling you a fucking airhead for thinking that.

He will smack you upside the head, informing you that the only thing wrong with you is your fucking idiocy.

"Your tits are fine, you braindead moron. You could be flatter than a fuckin' plank and they'd still be better than M.'s useless cock."

He will keep comparing your chest to Mary's dick if you bring it up again, saying your tits are better.

The absurdity of what he says and just how seriously he says it is enough to make you drop the subject because you're too busy laughing your ass off.

Mary is a bit confused about why you have to fight yourself to hold back giggles whenever you see them.

But then they see DD's smug look and it's enough for them not to question it.

G. Grotesque

This motherfucker somehow knows. He just does. It's like he can sense your insecurities somehow.

He doesn't really say anything until you do, though.

Instead, he always lays his head on your chest while you're cuddling in bed.

Mentions that it's his favorite thing in the world ever and goes on and on about how much he loves being so close to your heart.

You almost feel bad for him when you finally tell him that you're actually pretty insecure about your chest, he looks up at you, ready to cry.

What do you mean you're insecure about his favorite thing in the whole world???

But he loves you! He loves it!

He's gonna cry about how cruel the world is for you to hate anything about yourself when you're literally the most perfect person ever.

Will not stop until your assurances that everything's okay and you're starting to like your chest become genuine.

If he has to cry his eyes out until you feel better about yourself, he will.

Also, a shit ton of affection. You're not going anywhere any time soon.

E. Forces

He never really paid attention to it... until DD once made a joke about how his tits were bigger than yours.

That's when he noticed you weren't really happy about that joke, so he shot DD a look, which lead him to drop it.

E. only really addresses it later, when the two of you are alone, most likely at his apartment.

So you confess that you're insecure about your chest size.

He just looks at you for a moment, his eyes sad and soft.

You're starting to worry you did something wrong, but then his big hands cup your face, making you look into his eyes before giving you a sweet, gentle kiss.

He's not good with words and he knows that, so he doesn't really try to monologue about how much he loves you.

He simply says "I love you. You're beautiful to me."

And while it's not much, the look in his eyes is all the reassurance you need.

~

Written by Nosferatu.

Taglist: @charlie-is-a-menace @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @randodummy @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @calliedion-dungeon @randominstake @callmeicaro @thecuriouss @nuntia @thermodynamic-comedian @vampyrolesbos

[levbolton]

Hikaru ga Shinda Natsu / The summer Hikaru died theory

So, i was talking with @michigasuki about this whole ordeal about the Christiany in a small Kansai village. We know Christianity is not a big thing overall in Japan, so why exactly are there Christians in such a place as we’ve seen that man wearing a crucifix at the summer festival

And then in chapter 14.2 we learn that there are in fact quite a few churches active in the area. And on top of that, they’re active because historically they were even more active.

@michigasuki said that the homophobic beliefs started to spread to japan accompanied by the christian religion (i’m not sure, but there aren’t really any homophobic beliefs in shinto, right?)

So, this starts the rant. First this character: Mokmok Len proved themselves very consistent with the details. The way he draws the eyes, and, the very little easily to miss detail of the tooth. That person is most likely the Indoh ancestor. But then, the hair is hidden. It looks like a woman (bcs of the headscarf), is it really a woman? If you zoom in can you really say if that is facial hair, or grim. Are those hatches scracthen or cheekbones? If they are cheekbones they look quite masculine.

And then, the head they’re holding. Just like the Indoh ancestor, their gender identity can’t be determined just because of the long hair. Men can have long hair. And in old Japan it was quite the normalcy for men to have a top knot (I’m not sure, but warriors - samurais - wore their hair long). And you see, there must be a reason why Mokmok chose to put so much accent on the hair. And who else is constantly scolded about hair? Yoshiki. There isn’t one character whose hair is ever discussed as Yoshiki’s.

And then, it was already mentioned Yoshiki’s mother is from Tokyo, thus Yoshiki’s ancestors in that vilage are from his father, the male side.

Now, do you understand where I’m going with these? To put it in short, my theory about what started the ‘Brain Snatcher’ aka ‘Hikaru’ aka that spirit, is that: the Indoh and Yoshiki’s ancestors were two males in love, just like Yoshiki and Hikaru (notice the lack of ‘’). But, because they were living in a time where Christianity was really strong in their region, it was not accepted for two men to be together. Maybe really shameful for a warrior (i’m not sure), thus ending up with the warrior’s beheading and the other one forced to live a “normal” life. Now, because of this sudden death, the warrior’s soul’s yearning because he didn’t get to live with his loved one (this doesn’t sound that right idk if they have souls this in shinto) gets materialised into the ‘Brain snatcher’.

From yearning, it turns into loneliness (‘Hikaru’ said those things are “lonely”).

Also, about my reason for that Indoh ancestor to be a male, please look at Hikaru’s dad. He also has a crooked tooth. And the placement of the cheekbones is almost the same as the ancostor’s hatching. (Damn the genes are strong in that family, if anything is right in this post, it’s that Hikaru’s ancestor did something that created the Brain Snatcher)

Now, why do i say it’s Yoshiki’s ancestor the other one? Mainly for a mirroring kind of writing style. Two boys that are in love as once their ancestors were (i’m sure you know what i talk about). And then, I tried to understand this through the information i learned by reading manga with Shinto elements, so obviously i must be spewing some nonsense here and there. Or maybe i’m wrong about this one bcs that would mean he isn’t Yoshiki’s direct ancestor as that would mean Yoshiki shouldn’t exist if it were the case (aka the warrior died without kids)

Something that i used to understand this is Hiraeth, so yeah if you didn’t read it (go read it) i’ll have some major spoilers from there below (only the part below, after that you can continue reading)

From Hiraeth i learned that kami aren’t goor or bad, they’re kami and do as they please. I also learned that a human can be “traded” to cross their humanly bareer (well there’s quite the mix, it’s like Kamisama Hajimemashita where nanami is a human but becomes a deity). And i also learned that kami can become bad spirits if they’re not cleansed. At the end of the story it is revealed that the imortal character and the genderqueer amnesia kami were in fact soulmates from ancient times. And despite the kami forgetting about it, as people forgot their name, the kami still lived with this lacking and yearning feeling that something was missing.

This is why, i think that the ‘brain snatcher’ still carries that loneliness with them. And thus it hunts every Indoh’s love interest out of jealousy that they got the chance to live with their love. But at the same time, the spirit loves the Inodh so he doesn’t hurt them (here it’s the paradox because Hikaru’s dad died, and then the brain snatcher took possession of Hikaru’s body, @michigasuki said that maybe it was jealousy bcs Hakiru looked at a feminine shaped tree, thus jealousy, idk there must be a reason for that tree, we proved that Mokmok pays attention to details so i doubt that any of the panels in this story are completely random)

And one more detail is the head amulet that was in Hikaru’s bag (we’ve seen that once he slipped, he lost the bag and thus the protection that amulet gave them)

(By kegels i’m sure it means yokais)

This is obviously just a theory based on the first 14 chapters available, i doubt we have all the information to understand the back story or guess the ending, no matter how much attention we pay to the smallest details on the page.

Also, have you seen the shoes post? Or the hair one? Definitely interesting details put there to point out at something that will be very obvious later in the story.

Tbh the more opinions, the better, this is a complex work so i doubt two people can crack the code that easily

[seras-elessar]

Brooklyn 99 and Copaganda: My Two Cents

I’ve been reading many of the posts about cop-propaganda and how Brooklyn 99 as a diverse comedy police procedural hits all the hallmarks of whitewashing the police, but I’ve been reticent to engage because a) the posts are getting oh so long already and b) my thoughts haven’t been fully formed until about now. Just disclosing my credentials I’m going to come at this from a bachelors of film- and media-studies with a minor in moral and ethics philosophy, as well as my many years as an educator. 

I will also disclose that I really enjoy Brooklyn 99, and anyone can continue to do so while being aware of the issues. Being aware of problems with the media you consume is not a weakness, it’s a strength.

I’m going to go, point by point on why I think Brooklyn 99 Ended up the way it did and what we need to be aware of as we move forward. I will however put a tl:dr up here as well as a more in depth conclution at the end.

TL:DR: Brooklyn 99′s copaganda is an unfortunate combination of socially aware creators using the show as a platform to raise awareness and being part of two genres (comedy and crime) with problems inherent in the way stories in those genres are told. It’s not deliberately trying to whitewash the police, they do so by trying to do the right thing as creators with a large platform.

The Case of the Creators and Cast

The first part is looking at the people who are showrunners, producers, writers and the cast. The originators Dan Goor and Michael Shur have many series to their names, and all follow similar patterns; starting with a comedy premise and then developing as the seasons continue, often using their platform to raise points about social and moral issues. Andy Samberg is also a big part, being the main lead and credited as producer.

The cast is racially diverse and the show brings attention to that, both for comedy and to highlight social and political issues. They also appear to have a working relationship with the writers and directors, so the cast are allowed a lot of input into how their characters are portrayed and how they develop.

It’s clear to me going through the series, looking up creators and cast in interviews and their social media presence that most of them are socially and politically aware and wanted to use their platform to highlight and raise awareness about injustices the see in American society today. This is something many creators have been asked to do for many years and it’s admirable that they want to actually at least bring these issues up in the time they have. However this brings us to the second part which may be the biggest contributors to why Brooklyn 99 is seen as not just copaganda, but even insidious.

The Problem of the Premise (or Faulty Framing)

This is the long part.

Much, so much, of the problems of Brooklyn 99 and it’s place in cop-centered media is the premise. And I don’t mean that it is cop-centered. No I mean it becomes a problem that it’s a comedy. I will take the cop-part first and circle back to the comedy to better show why.

Police procedurals as a form of media follows certain patterns and tropes, many of which are inherent to the genre. The structure of each episode being “awareness of crime - investigation - reveal and capture of guilty party”. This structure is very easy to work into three acts with a classical dramatic curve, following the conflict introduction, advance the conflict, and climax.

graph from kurser.se illustrating their course in scriptwriting

A police procedural follows the cops, detectives or investigators as they solve a crime and punish the guilty. For our purposes that is not in and of itself a problem, however it shapes our point of view of the events that transpire and how we react in the climax. The cops are the main characters, the heroes of the narrative, and we’re made to empathise with their struggles (to punish the guilty).

They also use many tropes. The Box episode is one such trope, where the entire episode is one long interrogation and it reoccurs in almost all crime and punishment TV-shows. Homicide: Life on the Streets had a very intense Box episode, and holds the same problems that the similar episode in Brooklyn 99 has (no lawyer, racing against the legally allotted time arrested, manipulation tactics et cetera). Police use of force, antagonistic internal affairs investigations, powerplays among the higher-ups and many other tropes make their way into Brooklyn 99.

One thing not brought up a lot is the episode where Peralta and Santiago track a criminal breaking into an upscale hotel. During capture of the suspect Peralta causes some collateral damage as he throws himself at the suspect. The jump hits a bystander and breaks his leg, and from the reactions and the dialogue it’s shown to be a very serious injury.

The ensemble of detectives are portrayed as socially conscious and (mostly) competent. Even the butt of the joke character displays this (Hitchcock: “He was arrested for being black. Get woke, Scully!”)

This is where playing it for comedy can be an issue. Comedy is a release of tension, a cushion to the impact of the narrative. It’s not for nothing that the funny person in otherwise serious media has been dubbed as the comic relief. This makes the unhealthy tropes inherent to the crime and police TV-show come off as less of a problem and more cute, quirky and fun. That I think is one of the main reasons why Brooklyn 99 in particular feel insidious when they tackle social issues because

1) whitewashing police in a cop show is expected. The story comes from a person we can root for catching a bad-guy.

2) simplifying issues in a comedy is expected. Comedy is difficult on it’s own, jokes are hard to write well, so when that is the focus much of the rest needs to be smoothed out.

3) when these come together, portraying cops as good and simplifying issues for the comedy, it downplays their importance and impact.

4) this becomes troublesome when tackling real-life issues of injustice and problems with society today. First we’re sympathetic to our main characters, being shown as good cops, second we have issues brought up in a serious manner, and some issues being very serious, but then they’re played for comedy.

The premise is flawed when they lean toward social issues and the framing of the show and the characters enhances that.

This is where I also want to note again that I don’t think this was intentional. The show wasn’t crafted to be propaganda. The cop-show as an entity, a type of media, is propagandistic because of how stories of crime and punishment is told.

Series and Syndication

This will be a short bit, but I want to bring it up. When Brooklyn 99 was created it was syndicated to run at Fox. The channels, not just their news network, has unhealthy connections to not only the police, but the military, conservative think tanks and political initiatives. To be green-lit they likely had to pass screeners with an extreme pro-cop filter. But it was green-lit, so how did that happen?

Media, art in general, is always a compromise, and I think the positive portrayal of the cops and the police as a whole (some bad apples, sure) was part of the compromise to get syndicated. Police is a touchy subject in American television. I already cited Homicide above and they whitewash planting a weapon on a suspect one of the main characters murders. They spend the season building up how bad the suspect is, but how they can’t find evidence directly connecting him to the crimes. They get enough to go in, and they shoot this unarmed Black man. Then they put a gun they brought in his hand to plead self defense. The audience is told this was a necessary evil, the only way to get him “off the streets”.

This is a worse example than much of the abuses portrayed in Brooklyn 99, but again, Brooklyn 99 plays the abuses off with comedy. Homicide did not, they framed it as morally right.

Media and Literacy

Media literacy is a problem. When I worked as an educator very few if any age group was able to read media and see connections to real life biases and politics. The way we consume media impacts the way we feel and react to things in real life.

I’ve explained framing countless times, and how media tells us who’s right and wrong and who we as viewers should sympathise with. This is illustrated really well in this video-essay by Renegade Cut concerning the framing in Rick & Morty.

https://youtu.be/X-8ICfWsUVw 

Consuming Brooklyn 99 without thinking about how the framing of the actions of the characters and the events of the stories impacts our reading and thereby out feelings towards cops in general is why some people have expressed that they “grown to understand and like” the police after watching it. This is again an unfortunate combination of creators and genres.

We do need media literacy as a part of our education, and it grows more and more important the more accessible media becomes.

Conclusion (or The Monkey’s Paw)

I think the problem of Brooklyn 99 stems from the cross between comedy, crime fiction and creators who want to do more than tell jokey-jokes and actually use their platform to lift issues they care about. This awareness isn’t bad, in and of itself, I actually think it’s something all creators should try. They had a platform and they wanted to do the right thing. 

This is in my opinion the cruel joke of this discussion. The creators know they should raise awareness when they can and they try to do so, but in doing so they’ve created a propaganda tool for the police geared toward the most vulnerable demographics, racial and sexual minorities. That’s why I find this conclusion to be a Monkeys Paw, we got a high performing show, with a diverse racial and sexual cast, that displays knowledge and understanding about topics of injustice, from a politically aware creative team... and it’s smoothing out the injustices committed by the people they portray.

[il-papa-patata]

Not So Scary Mary

You wake up from a nightmare in Mary’s apartment. He’s unexpectedly helpful as you try to fall back asleep.

Mary Goore/gender neutral reader, nightmares, Freshly Washed Mary

T for language

You bolt awake.

The dream tumbles after you, the heat of it dissipating but lingering in the clamminess of your skin, the way your heart pounds. You search for anything – details about the dream, anything to grasp onto, to laugh at – you always laugh at your nightmares after they happen, or at least try to – but this one just lingers, vibrant red and sicking to your skin like sand in all the wrong places.

It's not your bed, and not your apartment, so when you spring awake, you can't reach to the same places you do normally, can't reach beside your bed for the old dog plush you got for your sixth birthday, with its flopsy ears worn down over the years and the nose almost gone. You can't take one of the old-man hard candies from your nightstand and suck it against your teeth until you feel its warm flavor all the way down your throat, some sort of normalcy in the face of terror.

You can, in this place, reach for Mary Goore.

Who is already awake.

He's already half-up, blearily wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand. You feel bad – the man barely sleeps as it is, and yet here you are waking him up with something like this-

You forget how pretty he is with all the makeup wiped off.

He looks up at you, hazel eyes almost silver in the darkness, face thin and sharp, lips full and parted. Despite your rude awakening, his expression's clear, face neutral and maybe even a little concerned.

“S-sorry,” you stutter, the heat of the dream clinging to you like spiderwebs, “Just a nightmare-”

“Hey,” he says, resting his long hand on your shoulder, “S'okay. You want some water?”

“Y-yeah.”

He dips over to his side of the bed and hands you a still mostly-full water bottle, crinkled along its edges. He pulls his knees up as you drink, resting his head on one, just watching you drink down some of the cool water. The night's chilled it a bit, and it eases some of the nightmare heat inside you.

You cap it again when you feel you've had enough and try to hand it back, but he just shakes his head, holding up a hand. You put it back on your side.

“You wanna talk about it?” he offers, reaching out and smoothing a hand over your lower back.

You do.

You do- but...

But what would there be to say? You can't even remember the dream – you could talk about how you sometimes just have these nightmares but it strikes you that Mary might think you're being a little bitch about it-

On the other hand, Mary is surprisingly good about this kind of thing. He always has been.

“I just... have nightmares. Sometimes.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, still stroking your lower back, “Anything about?”

“N...no. I don't think so, anyway. It's just... red when I wake up.”

“Red?”

“The color of your eyelids when it's sunny out.”

“Hm,” he hums, reaching his arm around your waist and leaning his head against you. His hair is clean – you washed it yourself – and it's fluffy where it brushes against you, all soft and wiry. “S' a tough one. Are you scared after 'em?”

You swallow.

You don't want to tell him that his mattress is the only thing that feels safe right now, that you had shivered putting down the water bottle, like it was a raft in a great tumultuous sea, as though his hastily thrown-on sheets were going to keep you safe. That even the moonlight outside twists into something horrid, the lamp you've tripped on six hundred times, the display from the old cassette-clock he convinces you still works becoming something else entirely. You don't want to tell him how long it takes you to feel normal back home, how his apartment – no matter how familiar by daylight – is scaring you.

He doesn't say anything when you fall silent. Instead, he just wraps his arms around you and pulls you back down into the sheets, guiding your head down against his chest, your nose against his ribs and your browbone against his collarbone.

“Shh,” he hushes, so softly, “It's okay.”

“Mare-”

“Shh. I've got you. It's okay. Nothing's gonna get you while I'm here.”

...Oh.

How long have you been wanting to hear that?

To not only be soothed but protected. You don't doubt for a second if anything actually tried to hurt you that Mary would launch at it, ready to fight it off or even kill it.

You sag into his hold, worming your arms around his slim waist, pressing your face more fully into his chest. He's warm, and unexpectedly soft despite how bony he is, and he hushes you quietly, stroking your nape slowly.

“You're...” you mumble, “Surprisingly good at this.”

“Eh, yknow.”

“No, really- you're... good at calming people down. And- you're nice.”

Mary laughs. “Well, my reputation gets outta hand sometimes. People don't believe I can be this feral and nasty and still be nice.”

You try to look up at him, face clean, hair fluffy. You knew he was sweet – you wouldn't be dating him or cuddled into his chest in his apartment if you thought otherwise, but-

No. You see it, here in the dark. The warmth of Mary. The little patient smile.

“You like being nice?”

Mary purses his lips, looking up at the window. “Well, who doesn't?”

“A lot of people think you don't.”

“Do you think that?” he asks, burying his fingers in your hair.

“No,” you say, “You love being nice. But-”

“But...”

“...oh. No, I get it now. The feralness is the niceness. It's-”

The desire to protect, to include, to be warm and to laugh – the violence and the trashiness and all that was that. A reflection, a complement to the kindness and the warmth and his barking laughter.

Mary smiles. His eyes glimmer slightly.

“Hmm,” he hums.

You tuck your head into his chest again, suddenly way too shy at that warm expression. It was usually a smile he smiled at you when he thought you weren't looking, but you'd never caught the full brunt of it, not from two inches away, and not with his arms around you and his legs tangled with yours.

“But yeah, I think you'll be okay.” He murmurs. “I had a lot of nightmares at one point too.”

He pulls you a bit closer, cocooning you against him. “Yeah?”

“Mmhm. Got out of a shitty life, but all of it chased me. Drank a lot to try and keep all of it away but it didn't really work. Anything I didn't deal with during the day, I dealt with at night.”

You breathe for a moment. You never know whether to ask more or not, when he talks about times before anyone here knew him, before he popped into the city covered in blood and screaming.

You choose to say nothing this time. If he tells you, he'll tell you.

“They'll fade. I make a mean cup of chamomile, though, if you can't get back to sleep.”

“Chamomile? You?”

“Yeh.”

He doesn't elaborate further, although you want to press it a bit.

But you figure you're wired as it is, and the proof's in the... tea, so you nod.

He helps you up, slowly – reaches over the side of his bed for a discarded hoodie which he drapes around your shoulders. It sits a little weird there, but it's comfortable, a nice protection against the chill of the night.

The two of you move into the kitchen, past his second-ish-hand couch. He has a stool obviously pilfered from some bar against his counter, and he perches you there as he goes puttering about.

You breathe deeply.

His house- well, his apartment- smells like him. Something old, something like dark hair warmed by the sun, the smell of smoke, this faint peppery thing. You never thought you'd get used to it – at its worst it's boldly organic, almost gross – but like this, settling around you and into your clothing and skin, it's pleasant.

Mary sets the kettle going – you didn't expect him to have one, and it's tiny, but it's enough for two cups of tea. He pulls down two mugs – one that looks like it's real china, a delicate porcelain thing, and the other a sturdy, obviously corporate mug for a bank.

You aren't sure which confuses you more.

“You worked in a bank?”

“Mhm,” he hums, spooning a bit of honey into it, “Kept the building running.”

“Don't you have an arrest record?”

“Didn't then. Helped pay for my first move.”

“Huh.”

He takes down a canister – it's beautiful, covered in intricate, sparkling cloth, a little thing. He pulls off the lid, and a second lid, and smells the contents. “Still fresh.”

He puts the leaves into two small steepers – both shaped like flowers – and covers them over with the freshly boiled water.

He leans back against the counter, humming quietly. You can't pick out the tune, but it's something kind of familiar. Most people knew his growl, but he had a perfectly nice voice when he sang.

He comes over to you, taking your hands in his and swaying your hands back and forth, humming softly. It's kind of weird – like he's playing with a puppet or trying to get you to dance – but you laugh anyway, bouncing your hands along with whatever he's singing, placid-faced and jaunty in his little galley kitchen.

“You're cute,” you tell him, and he sticks out his chin, frowning deeply while still playing with your hands.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Imma kick your ass.”

“Try me,” you grin up at him, “You're the one singing love songs and dancing with me in your kitchen.”

He flushes, pouting slightly. “Whatever. Can't even hold my sweetheart's hands without someone accusing me of being cute?”

“You really calling me your sweetheart and trying to convince me you're not cute?”

“Shush.”

“Really though,” you say when he lets your hands go, settling your feet up on one of the bars on the stool, “You're such a contradiction sometimes.”

“Con-tro-dik-tee-on? Whazzat?”

“Don't play dumb,” you smirk, “You aren't stupid no matter how much you pretend. You read those academic texts like they're gonna disappear every time your friends bring them over.”

He purses his lips. “Hey, I'm a high-school dropout, you can't be mean to me.”

“What was the title of the last one? A Critique of Foucauldian Governmentality?”

“I'm frankly surprised you remembered that, but yes, and it was a very good article I will have you know.”

“You seemed super into it.”

“I am a slut for Foucault, so.”

You giggle.

He hands you the bank mug, scooping out the steeper with his fingers. He takes up the fine porcelain cup, and even though it's a bit of a contrast – its delicate, blush-pink glaze and gilt handle matching the still-slight flush on his cheeks and the warmth of his eyes in the quiet light of the kitchen – it's not a mismatch. Mary was like that, you think, just a collection of things that didn't seem to go together but felt natural when they were united.

You bump your ankle against his knee, and he shuffles over to you, standing in between your knees. You sip the tea as he does, commenting, “But I like it.”

“Like what?”

“That you're contradictory. Sweet and violent. Depraved but also-” you reach up with your free hand to stroke his jaw, chuckling when he sags into the touch like an eager street cat, “Surprisingly innocent.”

“You want me to show you that depravity?” he growls, grinning and fixing you with a stare that turns your guts to mush.

“Another time, maybe.”

The stare breaks and his expression melts into a little smile. “Aw, okay.”

“I mean, not that I don't want to fuck in your kitchen at 2:54am, and I don't think you're working tomorrow, but...” You shift, sipping more of the tea, “Still feeling kind of fragile.”

“S'okay, you don't gotta qualify why you're not up for it. All I need's the 'no'.”

He dips his head and rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and continuing to hum, the pretty, petal-like cup held close in his hands. You think you might want to lean up, to kiss his plush lips, but you don't. It's too late, and the chamomile is working, and your shoulders are slumping. You'd probably fall asleep kissing him.

Maybe another time for that, though. That sounds really nice.

He notices. Of course he does. And without complaint, he sets your cups on the counter and picks you up, cradling you against his shoulder. You feel like a kid again, passed out in the car, the same comfort of being brought inside and tucked in.

He sets you down again on the mattress, huffing a breath when he loses his grip on you. He gently pries the covers out from under you, settling them over your shoulders, batting away your hands when you try to help.

He climbs under the covers too, tugging his pillow closer and shimmying up alongside you, tucking his ankle against yours. You're drifting now, the chamomile and the quiet of his apartment and that familiar scent of him all lulling you back to sleep, but you still feel it when he gently kisses your forehead, smooths his fingers along your scalp, and murmurs, “No more bad dreams, now.”

[ghostdummieideas]

A Grave Mistake 2/?

Part 2 to the Goore series. Thank you Raine and Birdy for Beta reading this chapter!

When you woke up the next morning, you thought the whole cemetery fiasco was a nightmare. Just a silly dream that your brain created to show your anxiety for the recent job. Your eyes scanned to the electric alarm clock on your nightstand: 8:45 AM. First, you need to get a cup of coffee in your system. Second of all, you need to get your reading assignment done today. With a stretch across the bed, you stand up to start your day.  As you stride across the hall, your eyes land on something crumpled in a dirty heap by the entrance of the apartment.

The conquest for coffee was pushed aside as you approached the foreign object. You crouched down and picked up what looked to be a ratty old coat with faded lettering on the back. The remnant of letters read, ‘Woodland Cemetery’. The cemetery. Last night wasn’t a dream. You ran before you finished your first shift.

The thought of the consequences for doing so sent a shiver down your back. In the midst of the chase, the security office never crossed your mind as an option for a sanctuary. Jacket in hand, you scramble through the flat to find your phone. You had two notifications: one missed call and one voicemail, both from your boss. Knowing that you can’t hide from your mistake forever, you have to do the right thing. Gritting your teeth, you unlock the screen to listen to the voicemail.

The old man’s voice crackled on the speaker, “Hey kid, we need to talk. Call me when you’re available”. 

You bopped your phone against your forehead and whined in dismay. “I fucked up. I fucked up, and he’s going to say I’m fired.”

Taking a couple of concentrated breaths, you press ‘call back’, and place the phone against your ear. You hoped the old man would be asleep or busy doing whatever he does in his free time. Your silent prayers were ignored as you heard the familiar blip of the phone being answered. “Hello? Who is this?” your boss’s garbled voice came through.

“Hi boss. I’m so sorry about last night’s shift. I can explain!” Feeling your throat tighten from nervousness, you take a deep breath. When you were ready to explain the corpse man, you stopped. You can’t say that, you’d sound like a lunatic. ‘I ran into this bloody man and he chased me during my shift’ would sound like a sorry excuse that a teenager would use to explain why their homework is missing. “A racoon frightened me and the office didn’t cross my mind when I was running. I’m so sorry.”

The line was silent for a second before a sigh broke the silence. “I saw you running in the camera feed. Look, don’t run off during your shift again. Do you plan on going tonight?”

The question left you stunned. Do you want to come back to the cemetery? He’s not going to fire you for running off. Before you can think, you answered, “Yes, I’ll come to tonight’s shift. Do I come at the same time as yesterday?”

“Yes, same time, same place. See you then. Get some sleep kid. Bye.”

The line dies as your boss hangs up. Your shoulders drop, the death grip on the jacket in your hand loosens. You still have a job. Great. You might run into a corpse man again. Not so great. You walk over to the kitchen, take a seat, and slouch over the table. You’re going to need more than a pot of coffee today.

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

When your shift rolled around, you walked back to the small trailer in the far right of the field. You pressed the doorbell to alert your boss of your arrival. With a buzz, the door unlocked to let you in. You step into the office and close the door quietly behind you. 

“Hi boss”, you greeted the old man. This time the cue-ball had an aged ball cap on his head. He was also wearing a similar jacket to your own. The rolling chair squeaked as your boss scooted from his desk and stood up. He gave you an indifferent look before he adjusted the cap. “We have a camera knocked on the far back of the place. Some kids knocked them off this morning. Your coworker was able to fix most of the cameras, but we got two more to replace.”

You watched your boss pick up two walkie talkies from the left of the computer monitor. As he shuffled across the room, he stuffed one into his pocket and handed you the spare. "Thanks," you muttered out of politeness before you took the device and stuffed it into your empty pocket. He then walked over to the table next to the door to grab the boxes piled on top. He reached in and grabbed two orange-colored boxes, handing you one of them. Examining the box, you noticed a logo with the word ‘security camera’ printed on the side. 

“We’re going to need a couple items from the storage shed. We’ll need a ladder, screwdriver, and… you still have the flashlight, right?” 

 You fished around in your pockets before you found it, pulling the item out to show him. He nods in approval. Grabbing the massive piles of keys from the lockbox, both of you tread through the grass to the shed. Breaking the silence, you addressed the elephant in the room. 

“Thank you for giving me another chance, boss.” 

Both of you stopped in front of the wooden building with a pad lock blocking the latch. As your boss searched for the right key, he addressed your statement.

“It’s fine, kid,” he sighed. “People usually have a fight-or-flight response and you did what you had to do to stay safe. We commonly associate cemeteries with awful stuff, so I’m not mad at you for running away.”

He unlocked and opened the door to the shed. Without looking back, he clicked the light switch to illuminate the interior. Stuffing his keys in his pocket, he strutted into the building and plucked the materials for the job.

“From your background check, you seem like the type to work hard. You’re not the type to run off and party like some college kids. You have a goal in mind and you’re using whatever is in your arson and you are doing the best you can. It’s hard to find good youngsters like you.” 

This left you at a loss for words. Your impression of your boss differed from your first meeting. The bitter old man, who was courteous enough to leave trash bags in your pocket to make your job easier, now complemented you verbally. A complement you shouldn’t be receiving after last night’s stunt.

After he had gathered everything he needed, your boss stepped out of the shed and locked it behind him. “Take a tool box and ladder for yourself, kid. If anything goes wrong or a vermin chases you off again, you can call me.”

You nodded in agreement, “Yes boss”. 

Tucking the security camera under your arm, you picked up the small ladder and tool box. After confirming where you needed to go, both of you went on your separate ways to fix the damaged property. Lugging the items to the location was one thing, the remains of the previous camera was a bigger problem. Whoever the kids were, they did a magnificent job at smashing the camera from this angle. They knocked it off from the adjustable base that connected to the wall of the building. The smashed camera barely hung from the cable that was tacked to the roof. With a sigh, you put the items down on the ground, picking up the ladder and setting it in place. You reached into your pocket and put the flashlight in place. Turning it on, you rummaged into the toolbox to find a screwdriver. Once successful, you opened up the box to unravel the packaging from the new camera.

Cradling the new camera in the crook of your arm, you climb up the ladder and get to work. Taking the old camera down from the cable wasn’t that bad. Unscrewing the base proved to be a slight problem as one hole was bent from whatever impact it received. An hour later, the new camera was in place and the smashed pieces were sprawled across the grass. 

Once you got down from the ladder you rolled your shoulders to release the tension on your neck. At least that was a pleasant change from being nose deep into your books this morning. Reaching into your pocket, you produced your walkie talkie. Pressing the button on the side, you asked, “Boss ya there?” You waited two seconds before the block crackled back. 

“Yea? You done there?” your boss’s garbled voice reverberated back.

“Yes, I’m done setting up the new camera. I’m going to take a ten here before heading back to the supply shed.”

“I’m in the office. No vermin?”

You briefly paused. Was this a small joke or a genuine concern? “No boss, not a single vermin in sight so far.”

“10-4” he mumbled before the line went silent again. 

Speaking of vermin, you haven’t seen that guy again. A shiver ran down your back at the memory of the zombie. You don’t want to see him again. Not on this shift, not in the future either. 

Stuffing the black brick into your pocket, you took a minor break before you headed back to the shed. Sitting down on the second step of the ladder, you let out a sigh of relief. You tilted your head, rolling your muscles and looking up at the night sky.

The clouds covered the sky, not a single star appeared amongst the sea of gray fluff. Deep down you wished you could see a sliver of the moon or stars. You felt tranquil when you could see them in the night sky. No matter which town you were in, someone from across the country would see the same orb burning in the dark. It was nice to know you weren’t the only one looking up at the same atmosphere. It made you feel less lonely in a time like this.

 A crunch pulls you out of your thoughts. You looked behind to see the last person you wanted to see tonight: The goddamn corpse boy. He had his back towards you, and you immediately went into flight mode, your body flinging itself from your resting spot. The quick movement caused the ladder to topple over and crash into the soft ground.

The man stopped to turn his attention to you. From his hunched position, your flashlight illuminated his face. Fresh blood smeared down from his forehead. Gray paint contoured his cheek and eyes in an unflattering manner. Instead of accentuating his features, it made him look more gaunt. From afar his eyes looked dark and lifeless, devoid of any color. From this distance you couldn’t tell if it was drool coming down his chin, but something other than blood was running down his face.

The man straightened, wiping the spit-like substance off his chin with the back of his hand. You barely noticed his change in stance because all of your attention was focused on the pocket knife held in his bloody hand. With no time to lose, you made a mad dash towards the office.

“NO NO NO NO NO”, you shouted in your desperation to get to the sanctuary. The night was going so peacefully. Why did he have to ruin it? How the hell did he even get a knife? Was he buried with it? Whatever the answer was, you weren't sticking around to find out. 

To not bash yourself into the office door, you use your hands to reduce the impact against your body. You banged on the door, “Boss, let me in! Hurry!” You kept frantically twisting the doorknob, wanting to get in the second it unlocked. 

Once the door opened, you quickly slid inside and shut the door. Chest heaving from the activity, you pressed yourself against the only entrance to the trailer office. Your boss gave you a look of concern as he slightly rolled to the side in his chair.

“Vermin?” he asked questionably. 

“No, there’s a man covered in blood in the cemetery. He has a knife with him so I came running down here” you huffed. 

Your boss cocked his brow, but you could tell from the look in his eye, he didn’t doubt you. He turned back to the monitor and checked the surveillance screen for the guy you described. “The camera you set up is live.. I don’t see anyone there..” he muttered into the hand that propped his chin. You strode over to the side of your boss to examine the screen. Just like he said, the zombie man was nowhere to be found. Deep down, you felt your frustration rise from within you. 

“I’m going to lose my shit because of this zombie fucker,” you groaned under your breath. 

Extra

Mary stood there as he watched the grave worker from the night before scream and run away. His face scrunched in disgust at their rude reaction. “I guess they don’t want a slice,” he shrugged. Knife in hand, he carved another slice of apple and brought the piece to his mouth. Savoring the flavor, he stopped to see the crimson liquid staining the hand holding the knife in red. That’s when he realized, “Ah fuck, I guess that’s why they ran...I guess I should find them and talk with them like an adult.” He paused for a minute before he cackled. “Yeah, as if I can even hold a civil conversation with someone who runs as soon as they see me,” he groaned. With a roll of his eyes, he walked deeper into the cemetery. When he spotted the human-sized dent in the iron fence, he stuffed the remains of the fruit in his mouth and crawled through, exiting the area designated for the dead.

[elsaclack]

hi! I'm rewatching the series and I just always wonder what people's perspectives are on jake and sophia (if he was really in love with her and such). You're characterization in your writing is always so good and I love your b99 meta/long responses to asks so I was curious about your thoughts.

hi!!! i got this ask the other day and i’ve been letting it sit because i’ve been having really bad brain fog all week and i wanted to be able to fully dedicate my focus to answering this bc it’s such an interesting question and i’ve actually thought about it a lot!!!

i will qualify this by saying that i can’t speak for everyone so there are probably people who will disagree with me and that’s fine!!! the great thing about the show is that it leaves a lot of motivations-type stuff and the in-between not-seen moments up to personal interpretation so there can be a lot of different answers to this question and none of them are right or wrong unless dan goor says otherwise lmao

SO in my opinion, i think jake genuinely had feelings for sophia and probably really thought he was in love with her at the time. like i think that in his mind, he had sort of realized that amy was with someone else and was not into him in that way and he accepted it, and was doing his best to move on. like maybe initially sophia was just going to be a drunken one-night stand, but upon realizing that she was In His Life for better or worse, he also realized he actually has a lot in common with her and finds her genuinely funny and was attracted to her beyond just physical looks. so like yeah i definitely think that jake had real feelings for sophia - that’s why he stays with her for several episodes after amy and teddy break up. like i never got the feeling that jake was just bidding his time with sophia while waiting to make a move on amy after x amount of time passed post-breakup - like he was with sophia that whole time and was doing his best to connect with her coworkers/be more involved in her life and he was legitimately crushed after she broke up with him. he even spent the whole episode after their breakup trying to distract himself from constantly checking his phone for new messages from her. like that was very real and tbh i felt it in my soul, and people don’t act like that unless they were emotionally invested in a person

BUT i also think jake never really stopped having feelings for amy. it’s like i said, he’d come to the conclusion that amy was not interested in him and would most likely Never be interested in him in that way, so rather than disrespecting her and wasting his own time by waiting around on the remote possibility that she might someday develop feelings for him, he decided to move on with his life and find romantic fulfillment elsewhere. but like clearly we all know that doesn’t end up working out (for either of them lmao suckers) - in my head i think jake had convinced himself that his feelings for amy were gone and it was all purely platonic and he was genuinely happy with sophia and honestly probably would have stayed with her indefinitely (idk about a marriage proposal for them...i go back and forth but s2 jake still kind of strikes me as being afraid of commitment, i think he developed and matured later on within his relationship with amy to the point where he felt confident proposing and idk that that would have happened with sophia) but i think it was like trying to deny a fundamental part of who he is by pretending like he didn’t have feelings for amy. he could keep up a charade for a while, even convince himself that the feelings weren’t there anymore, but eventually the feelings came surging back, arguably stronger than they were before. i don’t think jake was ever lying to sophia or leading her on or anything, i think he legitimately thought at one point that sophia was The One for him, but after falling in love with amy and marrying her and starting a life with her, what he had with sophia is nothing more than a pale imitation of love. i mean i think that’s the case with most relationships that precede Real True Love - they feel so real and intense and cosmic at the moment, but once you find the Real Thing, everything that came before it sort of falls flat.

idk i don’t mean to like...romanticize...romance...especially bc i’m single and i haven’t had real romantic feelings (beyond like an occasional fleeting glimmer of attraction) for anyone in a long time, but like i’ve been in relationships that have felt all-consuming and heart-stopping at the time that ended similarly to the way things ended for jake and sophia and it was CRUSHING in the moment, but now that i’ve had some distance and i’ve grown and matured as a person, i can look back and understand that we were fundamentally different people and even if x thing that caused the breakup hadn’t happened, we probably would have broken up eventually anyways. and i think Finding True Love just further emphasizes that for a lot of people

not saying finding true love is the end-all be-all purpose of life or anything god knows fulfillment can be found in SO MANY other places, but in this specific case i think that’s basically what happened for jake. what was love at the time became a flickering baby candle flame of attraction compared to the all-consuming wildfire that is how he feels about amy.

ew i hate myself lmfao

anyways THANK U i always feel like i ramble on for way too long when i get asks like this so it’s encouraging to know people even read them let alone like them?? you’re v kind and i appreciate u VERY much

[thesffcorner]

Last Shot: A Han and Lando Novel

Last Shot: A Han and Lando Novel is written by Daniel Jose Older, and it’s one of the new ‘canon’ novels in the Star Wars universe. It takes place in 3ish different timelines: the first is just after ROTJ, as Han and Lando come together to find a mysterious device called the Phylanx; the second is 10 years prior, right after the events of Solo, as Han Chewie and Sana come across the Phylanx; and the third is before the events of Solo, when Lando and his sidekick L3-73 also cross paths with the Phylanx, neither man aware how important and/or dangerous the device really is.

I was shocked to see so many 1 or 2 stars in the reviews of this book. And then I remembered that this is Star Wars, and I became sad all over again. Don’t get me wrong; I have my issues with the direction Disney is taking with the franchise, and I even have issues with this book. But for me this wasn’t any different than watching an episode of the Mandalorian or watching the Solo film. Let’s start with the positives. 

This book is action packed, filled to the brim with so many locations and characters from the SWU, and at points very funny. The pacing is fast and even, the OG characters are mostly well done, and the new characters fit well within the universe and the story. There is suspense, there are some elements of horror, and overall it’s a very quick and fun read. I think that might bother people if they come into this expecting Empire, when they get Solo, but if you go into it with proper expectations it’s a fun story, but with very little substance. That’s kind of the main issue with this book; the stakes are low and the substance is lacking. Older writes all the characters well, and it’s clear he has some interesting ideas, but whether it be because of a Disney mandate or his own lack of bravery, this book feels inconsequential. We know nothing bad or even noteworthy will happen to Han, Chewie, Lando or Leia, so the stakes rest on how much you get invested in the supporting cast or enjoy the plot. The plot is rather straightforward; it’s a fetch quest, told in 3 timelines and full of fan-service. There isn’t a single place in this book that isn’t some kind of reference or throwback to the films or the show, which made the journey fun, but what the characters are after is really just a big radio, which dramatically diminished my investment. The real draw for this book are the characters. For the most part, I found Han and Lando very accurate, with Leia being the standout; she was the most interesting one even if she isn’t in the book much. The supporting cast was a lot better; Taka was great, I loved the fact that we get an Ewok slicer (and seeing Conder was amazing, even if it was just for a scene). I also felt like Aro was a middle finger to George Lucs and anyone else who keeps hating on the Gungans. I actually liked Sana’s brief cameo here way more than I liked her in the comics, and even L3 was significantly less annoying than she was in Solo. If you have no idea who any of those characters are, that’s where we run into the first problem. This book is not a book for newbies; this is a book for fans, specifically fans of the Disney run Star Wars Universe, who have kept up with all the different media that Disney has put out. Haven’t read the Marvel Star Wars comics? Too bad you won’t get a proper introduction to Sana here. Haven’t seen Solo yet and have no idea who L3 is and why she’s talking about robot rights? I’m sorry, maybe you want to watch that first. Han is heartbroken over a girl? See point b, and watch Solo if you want to find out. I have been decent about keeping up with the SWU, but even I was lost at some points. I had to pause and read Wookipedia for the different races and characters, because I was never sure if I was supposed to know who they are from a different property or if they are just being introduced. At times, reading this felt like I had accidentally turned an episode of season 5 of the Clone Wars, when I’ve only seen season 1. Once I got into the groove, I did have fun. The characters and events I did recognize were done well, and I loved a lot of their banter, especially between Han, Leia and Lando. I actually got really invested in the new characters, which isn’t surprising; I feel like authors have a lot more freedom and leeway to flesh the new characters out, because they aren’t being constrained by Disney mandates like they are with the established ones. Even though I liked Han and Lando, I did feel like Older wrote them to be too similar. Lando isn’t Han; he’s not someone who comes up with a plan 3 secs before execution, he is a smooth talker, a charmer, a politician. Even though in the book he acts like the Lando we know, he doesn’t really talk like him; by the dialogue alone I couldn’t really distinguish them. The book also tries to juggle a few different themes, and it’s a hit or miss. For example, I really liked the discussion of PTSD and triggers; Han talking about how he doesn’t like helmets because they remind him of his soldier days, Taka and Leia’s grief over the loss of Alderaan, even Lando’s remorse and guilt over having to sell Han out to Vader to save Bespin were all done very well. But then we have what Older was trying to do with L3 and the healing droid, this tension between what a droid is programmed to do and what they think is right, which was imo done much better in the season finale of the Mandalorian. That show isn’t even about droids, but IG-11 made more of an impact and had a lot more plot relevance than any of the droids here, aka there WERE NO droids, in this story about a droid virus. Mr. Bones was a more prominent character in Aftermath, and he was programmed to tear people’s limbs off! This book also suffers from a weak villain. Fyzen Goor was an interesting premise of a villain, but much like Dryden Vos is Solo, the book doesn’t do anything with him. He’s at once a mad genius, who managed to survive for 30 years and wreck all this havoc, and yet he’s a complete non presence. He has ties with all the major crime syndicates in the Galaxy, and yet every time we see him he’s jaunting with his green backpack like he’s Bobba Fett. While I liked most of the new crew, some characters were just unnecessary. Kaasha was a potentially interesting character who had nothing to do the entire novel; in fact I forgot she was even in the plot for the entire first half of the book, and she was on the ship! She is just a love interest, and a really bad one at that; I am never a fan of female characters who are introduced to be love interests to characters who are popularly accepted (and according to Kassdan are) queer, especially with Lando, whose entire character arc revolves around her, when she herself has so little personality and things to do. Also for a book that’s set in Star Wars, there are a LOT of sexy scenes. Too many. Then we have Han whose main struggle is feeling inadequate as a father and a husband, which was also his arc in Aftermath. Look, I’ll buy that Han struggle with parenthood, but since when is he having issues with expressing emotions? He very clearly asked Leia what was happening between her and Luke in ROTJ, and expressed both his love for her and understanding if she rejected him. He’s not an emotionally stunted man, even if he would be uneasy at raising a child. The other issue is that this book isn’t about this struggle at all; he mentions Ben a few times, but for the most part Ben and Leia don’t factor into the plot at large at all. So do I recommend this? Maybe? If you like the Clone Wars/Rebels/Solo, if you have read at least the Aftermath trilogy and if you don’t mind inconsistent characterization, then I think you’ll like this. If not, then maybe skip it; I’m sure there are better Han/Lando books out there.

goodreads

[taomega20writings]

Gods I've Found

So I have had these Gods come to me and then they just make sense. So I'm writing this down so they won't be forgotten.

First off is Lord Oobleck, God of Minor Inconvenience.

He has complete domain over all minor Inconveniences. From turning to the wrong page to missing your turn on the drive home. All of them are him.

But his thing isn't making you mad, it is seeing the funny in it all. When you experience a minor inconvenience, he takes the blame with pride, giving you a name to curse and an outlet for frustration.

He also has the best curse of the gods.

The Blessing of Oobleck. Those cursed with this blessing will live a long life, where Nothing of Interest will happen.

Meaning there is no excitement in your life. A boring life, and made to last longer because of the curse. A long, boring life.

The next God is Lord Sytherious, God of all things Sappy.

Both figguritively and literally, his domain is sappy things. From pine sap to pick up lines, from tar to friend to lover romances. All sappy things are his.

He is there to remind you that cliches are cliches for a reason, and that sap is an inescapable part of life.

His favorite thing is honey. Because it is sappy and a sappy name for lovers.

The third God is Goor, God of Little Moments and Minor Badassery.

So his thing is that he presides over every small moment that makes your day memorable or exciting in those little ways. You manage to shoot a paper into the bin from across the room? Boom, Goor. You get to pet a stray cat? Boom, Goor.

All those tiny moments that brighten our day are his little moments. He wants us to get through the day.

The most recent God I have found is Tor, Goddess of Tolerance.

She gives strength to those who are patient and grace to those who are under stress. She wants you to remember that everyone is human, and as such, has failings. But also wants you to remember that you are human as well, and you can ride above your failings.

You turn to Tor for strength when you receive bad news, when you can't fight for what is right, when you are afraid to face the world. Tor gives you strength and comfort in that she is with you every step of the way.

She is unmerciful to any who throw tolerance to the wind and act brashly and coarsely. To those who seek to harm others, she shall leave you cold and alone. At the mercy of the world around you.

These are my gods, and they have made my life better for following them. Maybe they might help some of you too. Either way, they are marked here, so time shan't take them.

[gizensha01-blog]

I've FINALLY watched every Death Note adaptation and spin-off, so here are my thoughts and ratings for all of those, including the original:

Japanese Musical (2015): Easily the best anime/manga based musical I've ever seen. Not only did it cover the most important things from the original, not only did the stage interior and effects look good while being very simple (and probably cheap?), but the songs are so damn good and catchy, I find myself humming and singing them often.

Now, I think the japanese versions of the songs have very simple lyrics, sometimes to the point of being a little silly ("you'll die, I'll win", for example, from the song "Last Moments"), while the english versions of the songs have a bit more depth and are perhaps a bit more poetic.

However, sometimes that simplicity works REALLY well (from the same song I mentioned, the part that comes after that one line, sung by another character, is "Can you not see what's left? There is only emptyness when the game is over". That's very effectful while also being SO true, for both of the main characters. The english version, while great, didn't even mention emptyness).

The actors and singers were mostly very good! There was a few (like the person who plays Sayu, and some supportive characters) that didn't sing that well, but because they rarely sang in the musical, it didn't ruin the overall experience for me. I love the actors/singers who played L and Light. They both captured what the characters are all about, and they sang well.

The ending to the musical is probably the best of all the different Death Note endings imo. Maybe not the perfect ending, but still darn good. My only compaint as far as writing goes, is that L's "your my first friend" line doesn't feel genuine... because he and Light had only played a tennis match together before that. In the original story, they interacted more before L said that, making it feel genuine. Otherwise, great stuff. 8/10.

Death Note, the first two japanese live action movies: They are OK. They made some changes but covered most of the important stuff from the manga. I think these two movies probably serve as a decent introduction to the Death Note universe, but are also good for people who just prefer watching movies over longer series/anime.

The actors aren't the best, but I've definitely seen worse. CGI looks preeetty bad, so the Shinigami looks like PS2 models (thankfully, they look way better in Light up the new world). The ending to the 2nd movie is pretty satisfying, something I think most fans would agree with. 7/10.

Light up the New World: It was better than I thought it would be. It took ideas that were already in the manga and mixed them into a new story, and it had... mixed results. It had some enjoyable and well directed scenes tho, and I think the new main characters were alright.

The finale was probably my favorite part, even if it was kinda typhical. You have to watch the first two live action movies to understand this one tho. 6/10.

TV drama: L was to much of a silly pretty boy, Light having feelings for Misa was kinda dumb and pointless, and Mello wasn't even a real person in this version (and that doll of him was just creepy).

It does have some good moments tho, with some interesting new stuff. And it's nice to finally have an OK live action version of Near, even if he was different from how he was like in the original. 5/10.

L: Change the World: What does some virus have to do with Death Note? And how is a movie focusing on L so dull?! Many scenes were quiet, boring and didn't reveal anything of importance, not about the characters, nor about the plot. About as exciting as waiting for your toast to pop up from the toaster... actually that's more exciting, because atleast, you get bread.

Sometimes, I THOUGHT something interesting would happen, but nope. None of the new characters were interesting either, and the actors were not good. The only "good" part of the movie was when L's kids started crying, and he just sat there awkwardly in the background, drinking tea, lol.

Oh, and Near sucked in this version and I kept forgetting that that random, annoying kid was supposed to be him (isn't revealed until the end but anyway). This is another movie that you'll only understand if you've watched the first two live action movies. 3/10.

Netflix: Pure garbage. I was bothered by how dumb Light was (and the twist at the end didn't make him seem smarter, even if the creator wants us to think that) and how he didn't have the same drive to create a better world like the original Light, and L acted WAY to emotional and not very smart, and he's supposed to be the world's greatest detective.

But the movie's biggest problems, imo, are the terrible actors, the crappy direction, the unnecessary goore, and most of all: the Death Note rules that they establish at the start only to break them in the end. The Light/Mia romance was bad too. Also, the music Adam Wingard chose for most scenes didn't match the mood at all. This movie's a joke. 2/10.

Manga: The original really is great. The first two halves of the story had so many exciting and well written scenes, and all the main characters got fleshed out, and every supportive character had some use for the story too (except Ibe, I guess).

Some people don't like the last third of the story, but I kinda do. Sure, it's a shame L died, but both Near and Mello were good characters, and I feel fans don't appreciate them as they should, least of all Near, who seem to get a lot of hate for whatever reason.

I also liked Mikami, and the last third of the story had several amazing moments, like Souichiro's death, the SPK wasting L's money to distract the Kira supporters, Kira's confession, etc. It was also interesting to see how the world had changed their view on Kira after the time skip.

Death Note had plenty of exciting moments, had fascinating characters, a great rivalry (between L and Light), had some good jokes, and it's one of those kinds of stories that makes you want to discuss about right and wrong, one justice vs another, and so on.

The art was great, and got better as the series continued too. The speech bubbles kinda covers up some of that beautiful art tho, lol. My only real problem with Death Note is that it should've been longer. I wanted to seen more of the characters and see them interact, see more of the shinigami, and I wanted the other Death Note rules to be used to Light's advantage. 9/10.

Anime: Just as great as the manga...but I enjoyed it even more than the original because of the great direction, soundtrack and VAs. Kappei was the perfect L, and Miyano was the perfect Light. All the VAs fit their characters.

I had no problem at all with how MADHOUSE changed Light's death. It felt more sad than pathethic like in the manga, but watching him die alone, thinking that he saw L before he died, was very effectful. Also, the sad feeling fits well with Miss committing suicide . I've seen people complain about the rain scene, but it's actually pretty good, even if L acts slightly ooc (he's back to his usual self in the scene after, which makes it extra whiplash-y, but eh, whatever. I think it was nice to see a more human side of him). 9/10.

[theworstbob]

the thing journal, 5.28 - 6.3

capsule reviews of the pop culture things i took in last week. in this post: from a room, chi-raq, the intervention, all the beauty in this whole life, bone tomahawk, spades and roses, souvenir, spin, brooklyn nine-nine, blue velvet

1) From a Room, Vol. I, by Chris Stapleton: My thing with Chris Stapleton is, I have enjoyed his two albums, I have thought they were both Very Good, I think they're both fine examples of what country should sound like and understand their importance in keeping country music vital. I'd fall just short of calling either of them classics. Which is a weird space to be evaluating an album, where your main critique of an album is that it isn't an all-time classic, that you agree the songs are good and that a lot are great (and there's some great fuckin' songs, "Either Way" is just, yerrrgh, that's a toughie), but sometimes, it feels like there's some ingredient missing from the mix. I think it just feels too perfect. This man has a perfectly tortured voice, capable of translating any sort of pain and misery he feels, and he's using it to craft perfect country songs about country things like drinking and being in jail. It feels like he's content to do great things within the confines of the genre when he could be reinventing it, which, hey, fair enough, Chris Stapleton making really good country songs is a thing in this world I'm not complaining about, and if he never unlocks the potential I believe he has and only ever makes songs like "Death Row," I'd be cool with that choice.

2) Chi-Raq, dir. Spike Lee: Because I am ignorant of any piece of media that was made before 2003, I did not know what the Greek drama this was based off was about, so when I realized it was a film about women withholding sex made by the dude who made She Hate Me (this is an unfair comment because I haven't seen the film, but I'm pretty sure that's an unpleasant movie), I kinda prepped myself for an uncomfortable experience. And then the film ended up being fucking fantastic. The fact that the "no peace, no pussy" protest elicits a reaction of "Well, we have dicks. They love our dicks! Surely, if we just remind them of the fact of our dicks we'll put an end to this nonsense" is not just what would obviously happen should a similar protest occur in reality, it calls attention to the fact that so many problems facing the world are being caused by dudes who can't see past the apparent power of their dicks. (I will bring to the grave the belief that, if all the Republican presidential candidates held a joint press conference to tell Donald Trump he had a large penis, Donald Trump would have suspended his campaign and receded into the background.) But more importantly, this film has things to say about this country. It hits on everything, and it hits it hard. It calls out gang violence for bringing strife to black communities, then calls out the people who would use that strife to undermine causes like Black Lives Matter. It's a film stylized all the way to hell that remains grounded in reality because, what with the lists of names the film brings up (multiple lists, and nary a name repeated on any of these lists), it's impossible to fully escape reality. It's an astonishing film from a master director on a subject he's had to explore too often. (Also, Samuel L. Jackson having the time of his life as a Greek chorus.)

3) The Intervention, dir. Clea DuVall: I can never remember which character from Parks & Rec elicited this Perd Hapley line that has stayed with me forever, but all the same, some character asks Perd Hapley "Do you know what I mean?" and Perd responds, "I don't! But it had the tone and cadence of a joke." I have used that line to describe so many things where I respect the attempt at humor but don't ever laugh. This film is an example of what I'd use that line to describe. There's a lot of funny people in the cast, and there were plenty of comedic set-ups, but nothing like an actual joke. I think the film wanted to be a serious meditation on the relationships between these people (who were related in some convoluted way or another), so it tried to distance itself from the comedy, but it never took anything serious enough for the emotional moments to land with any impact. I wouldn't attribute this to the cast -- Melanie Lynskey is fantastic, and I completely forgot but Cobie Smulders can do goddamn work y'all -- more to the point that, hey, there's a low ceiling and low floow for movies about upper-middle-class white folks who only share quiet and emotionally difficult moments with other upper-middle-class white folks, and this film lands somewhere in the middle. I saw this the same day I saw Chi-Raq. Y'all tryna get away with pointin' a camera at some randos, and that's not gonna cut it.

4) All the Beauty in This Whole Life, by Brother Ali: On my personal Top 20 list for the year, I have this ahead of DAMN. It's 10% contrarianism, 20% homerism, 65% this is an amazing record by an amazing man, 5% no one at any point shouts KUNG FU KENNY. It's easy to make an angry political record. I think Rise Against is releasing an album this year, and it's already getting an A- and barely missing the Top 20, because times are shitty and it's easy to be angry. It's hard to look at the world as it is today and find things to defend, reasons to keep going. The most profound political statement to be made is that the world is fundamentally good and needs to be protected from those bringing it ruin, and Brother Ali makes that statement with authority. We'll have plenty of time and reasons to get angry in the coming days/months/years/decades. This is a record advising you to take a second to reflect on what's good in the world, the reasons hate came to be, what we can do to bring out the beauty, to explore what peace we can find before we start a war. It's powerful, amazing work.

5) Bone Tomahawk, dir. S. Craig Zahler: Not gonna lie: took a catnap in the middle of this one, very short, not even sure I was asleep, but definitely let the ol' eyeballs have a rest for a couple seconds. Didn't feel like I missed much plot-wise when I woke up, though. Probably missed a lot of beautiful shots of the Western hills (ok, THIS film is how you break in an HD display, I feel, nuts to Interstellar), but hoo boy, this film moved slowly! On the whole, the film was pretty great, I loved the way it built that town's community in just the one emergency meeting scene ("Look at the mayor when you're addressing him." "Yeah! Look at me!"), but there's a lot of time spent with gruff Westerners speaking softly about the great and terrible things they've done, and impeccably composed as those shots were, I can only be so interested in the things Matthew Fox has to say. (Also, hey there, central romance between a dude and a woman 22 years younger than him.) The film builds to the conclusion well, it picked up the pace a few scenes after my nap most regrettable, and I typically can enjoy a glacially-paced film now and then without sleeping, but if you have a worse attention span than me, this ain't rhe film for you.

6) Spades and Roses, by Caroline Spence: i do not remember how i came to add this particular indie singer-songwriter's ablum to my queue, but here we are, and this was fine! This was fine. I liked it. I rode on a bus and listened to this album, and I thought the young woman sang soft and sweet though potentially dark songs over gentle acoustic guitars. I cannot say I regret listening to this album, though I find myself unable to say much beyond that, because it was fine.

7) Souvenir, by Banner Pilot: I listened to this pop/punk album from an act I understand to be local after Spades and Roses, and one thing I should learn to do is try to pair albums better so that I'm not dealing with a change in mood this intense, so that there's a logical flow to the albums, some thematic link, not just "I added some shit to the library and I guess I'm listening to these today." Figuring thiis sort of stuff out is kinda hard, y'know? Like, I don't want to feel like I'm adding stuff to the library just to get it out of the way three weeks later, and maybe that colors my experience with albums like this or Spades and Roses, where they're fine but not necessarily something I feel I need to listen to twice, but if I come away from an album thinking I don't need to listen to it twice to get the full story, I'm not sure I'm being completely fair to the album. ...This review isn't so much a review of the album itself as much as it's a review of how I listen to music. C-. Needs a lot of improvement.

8) spin, by Tiger's Jaw: OK so I can tell ya right now I fucked up listening to this one. I was distracted, I had connection issues, I went grocery shopping and spent the majoirty of the grocery shopping twist asking myself what groceries I needed instead of what this album was doing for me, I did the thing where I treated music like background noise and not the thing I should be paying attention to. I thought the album was OK, but I could tell that it came to me on the wrong day, that maybe I should have put on something I'd heard before, and saved this one for a time when I could give this what it deserves. Bad week for me and my listening habits. Like, I do the thing with movies where I put the film on full screen and only check my phone to check the time, I need to find the thing for music that gets me to pay attention to music for more than one song at a time.

9) Brooklyn Nine-Nine s4, cr. Michael Schur & Dan Goor: I'm beginning to think this show would be the rare half-hour sitcom to benefit from a 13-episode order. This does action-comedy so well, but you can't really sustain the intensity of the action-comedy aspects of the show over 22 episodes, but then they have to fill the rest of the episodes with hangout-sitcommy bits that are very hit-and-miss for me. Once the show has a plot, it sings, but when it's doing its mystery-of-the-week thing what with A, B, and C plots so the entire cast has things to do, it can feel unfocused. I mean, hey, I watched every episode, I think the show is hilarious (I will sing Andre Braugher's praises until they can hear me from the moon), but I had to learn to deal with its inconsistency. Maybe not a Hall of Famer, but so many All-Stars never make the Hall of Fame, y'know?

10) Blue Velvet, dir. David Lynch: I saw this on Saturday night, and I'm still trying to process it. I'm actually not sure right now that I've seen a David Lynch movie before, which might explain why I feel so off-sync with this film; I've seen season one of Twin Peaks, but I'm otherwise unfamiliar with what he does, beyond a David Foster Wallace essay about the director. Perhaps I've become too desensitized to violence to understand what's shocking about the violence in Blue Velvet, or too many films derivative of Lynch to see what's uniquely Lynchian about Blue Velvet. I do see the central point and believe it's fascinating -- the only think keeping Jeffrey Beaumont from actually being Frank Booth is a sense of decorum, that Jeffrey needs to be Jeffrey to live in civilized society, but the only thing Frank does that Jeffrey only does reluctantly is Violence, and now I'm realizing this is Hannibal, that's where I saw this movie, was Hannibal, OK, OK, cool cool cool, but also, that theme of the darkness within, of people like Frank being everywhere, it resonates, because now we live in a world where we can remove ourselves from a sense of decorum and be Frank. To see Frank Booth in 2017 is to see the manifestation of a Twitter egg. So in the course of this review, we discovered that we are on this film's wavelength, and that the distance we had to bridge was created by seeing Lynchian works and living in the end times.