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tsarisfanfiction · 4 years

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Toffee: Chapter 3

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Gordon, Scott, John, Grandma, Tracy Family

Not quite such a long wait for the next instalment this time. The next chapter of my response to @gumnut-logic‘s #irrelief prompt “toffee on the couch”, and the second of my three fic offerings for Thunderbirds Day, we have a little more scheming and Scott’s tale of woe continues.

<<<Chapter 2

The explosion of expletives from his eldest brother were clearly audible even from where Gordon was floating in the pool. It didn't take a genius to surmise that Scott had just discovered the toffee on the chair, and probably by sitting on it.

As far as pranks went, it was simple but effective. No-one had been in the room when Gordon had slipped the small chunk of toffee, warmed in the microwave under his watchful eye and Grandma's carefully blind one, onto the seat just after dumping his mud-lathered uniform off in Scott's despairing arms. Barring Grandma, none of the island residents had any idea that the toffee hadn't just slipped out of Scott's pocket earlier a la the first incident style, and both Grandma and their ever-watchful Eye in the Sky were firmly on his team. It had been John that had struck a conversation up with Alan to keep him out of the way, after all.

Grandma's voice carried clearly from the kitchen as she hollered up at Scott about minding his language. There was the vague threat of washing his mouth out with soap in there, and Gordon could well imagine the look on Scott's face as he called an apology back down.

He suspected Scott was already sick of soap. The washing machine had been a stroke of genius, even if he did say so himself. A little bit of toffee in Scott's jean pockets wasn't even suspicious, not when toffee in his pocket had been the start of it all. Add in an unaware Alan proving him the perfect alibi, and there was nothing to even suggest it wasn't an accident. Still, there was revenge and there was cruelty, and even Gordon had limits. Virgil would get the machine repaired by the end of the day, as long as no more rescues cropped up, and Gordon wasn't about to keep crippling it.

Scott wouldn't be the only one getting suspicious if it kept breaking, and he had no plans to get Virgil on his back, especially as his older brother was clearly annoyed about having to fix it the first time. If he realised it was intentional rather than accidental, well, that would probably be the end of a squid. No, Gordon had to keep things fluid, unsuspicious. Neither John nor Grandma were providing ideas, but as long as they kept providing the means and alibis (when an innocent Alan didn't do the job for him), he had a week to prank with his brother with no fear of retribution.

Scott's toffee stash would last a week, easily. Even if he turned to it as comfort food. Gordon hoped he did; it would be much easier to pull off his plan if Scott continued to eat the stuff. He had John on Scott-watch for that exact reason. True to form, John hadn't told him where the stash was, but he had suggested where a really good hiding place away from younger brothers might be, and sure enough, Gordon had found a whole mountain of the stuff there.

It was a literal mountain. Gordon had no idea how Scott's teeth hadn't all rotted yet. His ached just looking at it.

Above him, it sounded as though Grandma had gone to investigate the cause of Scott's language, because she was still berating him for it. As tempting as it was to go up and see the scene with his own eyes, Gordon had been a prankster long enough to know that returning to the scene of the crime automatically made him suspicious. Content that Grandma had it all in hand, he rolled over onto his front and continued his laps.

He eventually left his beloved water at a call for dinner. Reluctantly, of course – the call had come from Grandma, and just because she was helping him prank Scott didn't mean she'd suddenly become a competent cook. Unfortunately, the pool was right by the kitchen, and with his grandmother standing just under the eaves, there was no way for him to pretend he hadn't heard the call.

At least none of his other Earthbound brothers were escaping, either. John was invariably munching on some dehydrated just-add-water feast above their heads, and not for the first time Gordon thought it thoroughly unfair that he had the better deal. Dehydrated food was not supposed to be better than good old fashioned home cooking.

Maybe that was why Dad had spent so much time in space. Gordon could hardly blame him.

None of them even dared to hazard a guess at the name of the concoction on their plates, but with Grandma seated firmly at the foot of the table and watching them all closely, they had no choice but to tentatively take their first bites before simultaneously reaching for large mugs of their preferred drink.

Alan mumbled something uncomplimentary into his juice, and Grandma sent him a sharp look. Virgil chose that moment to speak, and Gordon knew the timing wasn't coincidental.

"I've got the washing machine fixed," he said, sending Scott a glare. "Don't break it again."

"I don't plan to," Scott groaned in response, throwing back his squash to get rid of the taste from his latest mouthful. "I'd like to see something other than laundry this week."

"Speaking of the laundry," Grandma interrupted. "I want that chair spotless, young man."

"What chair?" Alan asked, fixing their eldest brother with a suspicious stare when he groaned. "Is one of the chairs dirty again?"

"Some toffee appears to have found its way onto the desk chair," Grandma explained. "Your brother found it by sitting in it." Virgil stiffened.

"If that washing machine experiences another death by toffee, I am not fixing it," he threatened. Scott sighed, running a hand through his hair. He looked tired, not that Gordon blamed him after that hell of a rescue. They were all tired from trudging through mud and then cleaning it off of Thunderbird Two once they got home.

"I'll handwash them," he promised. "I have no idea how toffee even got there."

"You mean it didn't fall out of your pocket this time?" Alan chipped in.

"I didn't have any in my pocket for it to fall out, Alan," Scott defended himself. Alan shrugged as though that wasn't a factor that needed considering.

"You had some in your pocket yesterday, maybe it fell out then?"

Gordon watched a look of uncertainty flicker across Scott's face, before his shoulders slumped.

"I guess that's possible," he admitted.

"You're quiet, Gordo," Virgil commented, and he looked at him.

"Huh?"

"Something wrong?" Toffee incident(s) forgotten, Scott was straight into smothering older brother mode. Annoying, except when it was useful. He poked at the concoction on his plate dubiously.

"I don't think I feel too good." It was hardly a lie; he loved his grandmother but he could also really do without her cooking.

"Try a few more mouthfuls, dear," the wicked witch of the kitchen said. "Some good food should help."

"I don't see that here," Alan muttered under his breath, but Gordon gave her a patented Believable Fake Smile and prodded at his plate some more, reluctantly forcing himself to eat a few more bites. She beamed at him, and he gave her a polite smile back, all too aware that his alliance with her was just as tentative as his alliance with John, and therefore relied on keeping her sweet.

Which, right now, meant consuming as much of her latest cooking disaster as he could stomach.

Scott – oldest, bravest, sacrificial lamb on behalf of his brothers – was the first to cave, begging off on a full stomach and a reminder of the jeans he now had to handwash. His plate was mostly empty, although when he'd managed to stuff that much in his mouth Gordon had no idea, and after a moment of silent contemplation on Grandma's side he was given permission to wash his plate up and leave.

Gordon loved it when his brothers made things so easy for him. He shoved the concoction on his plate around for another few minutes, occasionally taking mouthfuls, before putting his cutlery down with a groan.

"Sorry, Grandma, I don't think I'm going to eat any more." She peered at him closely before standing up and walking around the table to get to him. He wasn't expecting her to press a hand to his forehead, and jumped when she made contact.

"Well your temperature's normal," she mused, and inwardly he groaned. Please let me leave the table, Grandma! "But if you're really not up to eating, off to bed with you." Yes! Grandma you are The Best!

"Sorry," he said out loud, standing up slowly and picking his plate up. "I'll just get this cleared up-"

She whisked it out of his hands.

"I said bed, young man," she scolded. "I can do your dishes for one evening, but I'll be up to check on you once I'm done and I don't want to see you out of bed." She steered him towards the stairs and, once out of sight of his brothers, gave him a wink. He grinned back, before starting the climb to the bedrooms – and, more importantly right now – Scott's toffee stash.

Having Grandma for an ally made a real difference to pranking.

He kept up the pretence all the way to his room, just in case he met Scott. He didn't, but Gordon had long since learnt not to take that for granted. Shutting himself in his bathroom, he called John.

As predicted, the ginger was munching away on cardboard-flavoured food that Gordon would do a lot to have instead of his grandmother's cooking.

"Scott's in the laundry room," his brother told him without preamble. "Brains and MAX are in their lab, and Grandma has Virgil and Alan pinned in the kitchen." Not for the first time, Gordon was pleased Kayo was off doing agent-y things with Lady Penelope for the week. Her allegiance was harder to secure than John's, and even when he had it she was liable to tell on him to Scott or Virgil at any time. Sneaking past her was also much harder. "I'd estimate you have five minutes before any of them move from their current locations."

"Roger that," he grinned. "It'll take me two."

Scott's hiding place was brilliant in its simplicity. It was both somewhere no-one, not even Gordon, would think to look, but so easily accessible that the chances of being caught in the act of retrieving some were close enough to nil – barring John and his All-Seeing Eyeness. Unfortunately for Scott, now that John had Not-Shared it with Gordon, those same factors made it child's play to steal from.

Gordon was careful not to take too much – Scott was the sort of person to know exactly how much toffee he had, and would very quickly put two and two together if toffee kept appearing in places he didn't remember having any and he noticed it vanishing from his stash. Besides, too much and the game would be up before it even began. He took a couple of small pieces from near the back, ones with identical wrappers to many others. Scott would have to be particularly observant and calculating to notice the disappearance of those.

Prizes obtained, he found his way back to his room and connected with John again.

"Grandma's on her way up," his brother warned, and despite having Grandma as an ally, Gordon figured it would be best to throw on some pyjamas and slink into bed regardless – after depositing the toffee in his bathroom cabinet inside one of his boxes of tablets.

Empty tablet boxes that had not yet reached their expiry date made fantastic hiding places for small objects. With the prescription declaring them for the sole use of one Gordon Cooper Tracy, none of his brothers had any cause to ever touch them. Not even John knew about that hiding place. Probably. You could never be too careful with the Eye in the Sky.

"You decent, kid?" Grandma asked, knocking on the door. John flickered out of sight, and Gordon made a noise that was probably an affirmative from under the covers. She took it as such and his door hissed open. Footsteps crossed his floor, and the bed dipped near his head. He looked up to see her grinning back down at him. "As you're in bed, I assume you've done what you needed to?"

He grinned back at her.

"Yup," he admitted.

"Good, good," she said. "I must say, it's a nice change to see your brother away from that desk more. Toffee or not, he was starting to stick to it."

Gordon laughed and she ruffled his hair.

"Now get some shut eye. Your brothers will have questions if you're out and about after I sent you to bed, and with you boys' job, it's something you're all lacking anyway. If I catch you out of bed again, I'll be dragging you back in here by your ear, got it?"

"Yes, Grandma," he agreed; sleep was nice, even if he'd rather be doing a few more laps in the pool. Ah well, sometimes sacrifices needed to be made in the name of pranking.

"I'll see you later," she told him, kissing his forehead – he made a face – before leaving the room.

So, Grandma didn't want to see him out and about? Well, that was what John was for.

"Hey, John?" he called once the door was shut. His brother appeared immediately, and Gordon suspected he'd never actually left, just culled visual. "Let me know when I have another five minutes free on this floor?"

"Sure thing," his brother agreed. "What's your next plan?"

Gordon grinned at him.

"You know the story of the Princess and the Pea?"

Chapter 4>>>

#irrelief #irrelief2020 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #toffee #scott tracy #gordon tracy #john tracy #grandma tracy #virgil tracy #alan tracy #gumnut-logic

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vateacancameos · 4 years

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You See the Leaving, I See the Coming Back

Fanfic Fandom: Sherlock Word Count: 3039 Pairing: Sherlock/John Tags: Friends to Lovers, Moving In Together, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 04, Parentlock, John Watson misses Baker Street, And its inhabitant

John is tired. Rosie has been crying for hours—teething again—but that’s just the straw the breaks the camel’s back. In truth, John has been tired for months, since the aquarium, no, since his lying wife shot his best friend—she, pregnant and unapologetic, he, being the helpful and loving person John hadn’t realized for too long that he was.

His life has been a mess for too long too, since Sherlock died and took that life right out of John. That’s where it went wrong, John thinks. If Sherlock had trusted him, had believed John could be more than a pawn in a psychopath’s game, things would have ended differently. But the past is the past, and John is sick of living in it. They are different men now—Sherlock is loving and emotional, John is a father, part-time GP, and part-time whatever to Sherlock. And he’s tired. So tired.

And so he ends up at the newly renovated Baker Street—Rosie clutched in one arm, overnight bag in the other—unsure if he’ll be welcomed, but hopeful none-the-less. Sherlock has always welcomed them before. John hopes he hasn’t imagined that Sherlock is more than welcoming, actually; he hopes Sherlock is happy they are there.

Sherlock takes one look at the metaphorical bags under John’s eyes and literal bag on his arm, gives a firm nod, and plucks Rosie from her father’s drooping arms. “Go lie down,” he commands. “Young Watson and I will entertain ourselves for a few hours. Isn’t that right, Ro-Ro?”

The name, and the attention, that Sherlock has given to John’s pride and joy had been a surprise when it first came about. Sherlock isn’t exactly the nickname-giving, or child-rearing, type. It hadn’t been easy, at first. Sherlock had kept his distance, eyeing Rosie with same interest he gave to a puzzling, but ultimately five-or-below, case. He wanted to figure her out, but assumed she’d be like too many others—dull and not worth his effort.

The change happened after Mary died, after the drugs had been flushed from his system. On that day—they day they had forgiven each other, the day they’d finally really seen each other, the day John finally got to touch Sherlock, to hold him close and breathe him in—Sherlock said he wanted to see Rosie, and John had believed him. A week later, John and Rosie had arrived at Baker Street to a tidied flat and a box of toys (educational aids, Sherlock had insisted). The nickname had appeared not long after, John’s only hint of why coming from a muttered “Your father gets seniority on the Watson moniker, so it’ll have to be something else for you” from Sherlock to Rosie.

It took a while, but John finally sussed out the change in Sherlock. It was guilt, it had to be. Too many times, Sherlock had insisted he owed a debt to Mary. Rosie might have lost a mother, but that didn’t mean she had to be left with a single parent. Molly began dropping by John’s flat more often, and Mrs. Hudson would call, insisting on visits from the Watsons (which often led to visits with Sherlock, of course). John knew those too were due to Sherlock’s influence.

His own time spent with Rosie started out educational, with Sherlock insisting that a genius and a rather intelligent doctor (“Thanks, Sherlock”) must have produced a very bright, if not gifted, child. Those soon devolved into playdates, with Sherlock whisking Rosie away as soon as they’d arrived at Mrs. Hudson’s for tea. John would arrive upstairs an hour later to a giggling Sherlock and Rosie, or a napping Sherlock and Rosie, or a violin-playing Sherlock and a dancing Rosie.

It’s … more than he’d ever dreamed of. Mary had been her mother, and she’d never been cold or unfeeling toward Rosie, but she’d never been as vivacious with her daughter as Sherlock is towards his goddaughter. And John doesn’t blame Mary for her behavior. The first few months after birth are hard on a new parent. They’d both been exhausted most of the time. And Mary had worries about her past catching up with her on top of that. So maybe, given time, Mary would have shown as much joie de vivre in having Rosie around as Sherlock shows. Or maybe, this is something only a part-time uncle-like figure could feel for a child. He can give her back at the end of the day, after all. John certainly spends most of his time feeling like he’s been hit by a wrecking ball, no matter how much love and pride he feels for his daughter. Really, it’s apples to oranges and completely unfair to force a comparison.

Still, when he’s at the end of his tether, he has no other thought than seeking out his best friend. He’s held off for far too long, not wanting to be weak, not wanting to burden Sherlock. Sherlock didn’t sign up to be a parent, John had. Well. Sort of.

And in the end, John doesn’t have to ask. Sherlock just knows, after a single survey of John’s person.

When John awakes from his nap a few hours later, it’s to the gentle strains of Sherlock’s violin. The pack ‘n play has been set up in the middle of the sitting room. Rosie is still awake, but no longer crying. Instead she’s gumming what turns out to be a teething ring that John knows he didn’t pack. Her eyes drift shut from time to time, but she’s fighting sleep.

Sherlock turns away from the window and keeps playing as he asks, “Better?”

John smiles. “Much.” He scratches the back of his neck. “And… thank you. I’m sorry for just passing her over and hiding, but–”

Sherlock frowns. “You’re a single parent. You shouldn’t be doing this on your own. I am her godfather, and as I won’t be seeing to her religious education, then I must help out in other ways.”

It’s just like with the wedding. Sherlock feels responsible, for some reason, for making sure John has the best, that Sherlock expends every iota of energy making sure everything is done to perfection. In his more optimistic moments, John hopes that it’s because Sherlock is trying to prove his worth as a mate or, at the very least, pouring every ounce of love into the person he cares for most. When he’s feeling a bit more jaded, he’s certain that Sherlock just doesn’t understand how to be a best friend, so he’s read up on the how-tos of friendship and has decided to follow them all, and as a perfectionist, do the job far better than any other human ever has done. And, when John is really down in the dumps, he thinks Sherlock just feels guilty and is trying to make up for it. Really, the reasoning doesn’t matter. All three possibilities are proof that Sherlock loves, in his own way, and John can’t be upset over that.

Sherlock plays until long past when Rosie finally drifts off. John cooks supper to some classical piece he’s always loved but never asked the name of. They eat dinner, then settle in for a quiet evening. It’s very … domestic. It’s been so long since John has spent a relaxing evening with another adult that it almost feels wrong. If he does happen to be away from home of an evening, it’s usually mired in a case or running errands. But this is just a normal evening, the kind couples have. It’s too close to what John wants these days. He’d chafed at having this before, had been an utter prick by trying to run away from it by having the beginnings of an affair, so he’s not sure what to think. Does he want this just because it’s different from the draining pattern his life currently contains, or is it that it’s Sherlock? Did his being married to a secret assassin who almost killed the person he actually cares for most play a part?

Therapy and far too many evenings alone with only his own mind to entertain him have forced him to admit his feelings for Sherlock, so he knows the love part won’t be a problem. But what about the domestic bits, the everyday? They wouldn’t be able to have late-night chases and adrenaline-fueled cases, so it wouldn’t be like before. Could he handle that? Or is it better for him to suffer alone in the suburbs, and not let things sour between him and Sherlock when the domestic life keeps them from what they need to feel alive?

He thinks about it all the next day at work and that evening as he sits alone in his too quiet, too clean flat. He thinks about it the day after and the day after, home alone again, with no cases to pull him back to where he would much rather be.

On the third day, with no work and no case to occupy his time, John decides “fuck it,” packs up a nappy bag and a change of clothes, and heads to Baker Street. Sherlock appears at the top of the stairs, still in his pajamas and his hair a fuzzy halo from sleep. He frowns and cocks his head.

“Is Rosie ill?” he asks with a frown. He takes a babbling Rosie from John and feels her forehead.

“Should she be?” John asks with eyebrows raised as they enter the flat.

Sherlock turns around to face John. “You don’t have a tea date with Mrs. Hudson.”

“Nooo,” John replies to the non-sequitur. He’s not sure what Sherlock is getting at.

“We haven’t a case on.”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“But you’re here.”

It hits John then, the reason for Sherlock’s confusion. Except for the first time John had brought Rosie over after Sherlock expressed interest in seeing her, and his visit the week ago, every time they’ve come has been for a reason. Sometimes it is just a chance for the three of them to hang out, but those have always been scheduled in advance. John doesn’t just show up, out of the blue, unless he needs Sherlock for a reason. Of course, in John’s mind, needing Sherlock is reason enough. He misses his friend, and so he comes. That’s not exactly something he can admit to, them being middle-aged (well, not quite, but close enough) British men, so he just shrugs.

“I was bored.”

Sherlock nods, but he still looks a bit confused. He adjusts, though, and the day is spent happily. They stay the night, and Sherlock doesn’t question it. John feels the same contentedness and peace he did last time they stayed over.

After that, John decides to make an experiment of it, though he doesn’t tell Sherlock this. He needs to know. Is it specifically domesticity with Sherlock that makes him happy, or just a change in routine? It starts off being once a week. John will show up with a baby, a bag, and a day off, and he lets things just happen. Sometimes Sherlock’s gone for half the day, doing whatever he does to occupy his time, not realizing John and Rosie are at Baker Street until he returns. Sometimes the three spend the whole day together. Sometimes a client appears, and they’re rushed off on an investigation after scrambling for a sitter. Sometimes they do tea or lunch with Mrs. Hudson, sometimes they take walks in the park. Sometimes John appears at the flat exhausted after a night spent awake with Rosie, so he spends the day recovering while Sherlock and Rosie entertain themselves.

After a few weeks, they begin spending two nights a week at Baker Street. Toys have migrated from Chiswick to Baker Street, as have clothes. The flat is always clean now, but just as warm and homey as it’s always felt to John. John thinks he sees sadness on Sherlock when they leave the flat and happiness when they arrive, but he’s still not great at reading his friend. It could just be that Sherlock’s as lonely and bored as John is, nothing more.

Sherlock has several files on his laptop dedicated to Rosie’s physical and mental development—charts with information from check-ups, lists of what she should be doing at a certain age, tests to give her. If John didn’t know better, he’d think Rosie was merely an experiment, a new puzzle that had caught his genius’s interest, but he’s seen the way he behaves around his daughter. There is pride when she learns new things and happiness when she reaches new milestones. Sherlock loves Rosie, and John’s never been happier.

He thinks about asking, to move back to Baker Street that is. Empirically, evidence says Sherlock will acquiesce, even be happy about it. He never seems upset to have them around, rarely becomes impatient with having a child in the house, seems happy so often these days. Still, John worries. This is still a part-time thing for them, this living at Baker Street. What if they move in, and two months later, John is itching for something new? Or worse. What if the move makes John happy, but Sherlock dislikes it? He can’t want a child around all the time, can he? He can’t enjoy being stifled from taking interesting cases because there’s a child back home to worry about.

Then there are the more practical issues. John and Rosie sharing a room is fine a couple nights a week, especially while Rosie is still so young. If they moved back, for good, they’d need more space. Space that the flat doesn’t have. So really, even if there was no worry of anyone feeling stifled, it still wouldn’t work. 221B Baker Street just isn’t enough for two men and a child. Even though nowhere has felt like home to John since he was a kid. Chiswick included.

It’s getting harder to deal face the space issue, though. Three months in, and John and Rosie spend more time at Baker Street than they do in Chiswick. John’s wardrobe at the flat is full again, toys have ended up in places outside of the sitting room (John once found a stuffed animal in one of the kitchen cabinets and has no idea how it got there), the refrigerator is full of veg instead of body parts.

It’s another quiet evening in. They’d spent the day (all three) investigating a jewel robbery. Rosie drops off during her dinner and sleeps through her bath. Sherlock orders take-away while John takes care of Rosie, and now they sit on the sofa watching a nature program neither is paying attention to—John is stitching a tear in Rosie’s favorite toy while Sherlock reads up on leptospirosis (who knows why).

John is complaining about not having the correct color of thread when Sherlock slams his laptop shut. “Why don’t you just move in for real? Then you’d have whatever color of thread you’d need at your disposal!”

The vehemence and frustration in Sherlock’s voice make John pause. He doesn’t seem particularly happy with the suggestion, despite having been the one to voice it. John puts the pink stuffed elephant (now with electric blue stitching on a hind leg) down and turns to look at his best friend. He thinks about what to say.

“Do you not want us here?” he finally asks, trying not to let despair fill him. He’s been happy here, and he thought Sherlock was happy with the arrangement as well. The frown on his face says otherwise though.

“Did I say I didn’t want you here?”

“No. But your body language and tone of voice don’t seem terribly happy at the idea of us moving in.”

Sherlock rubs his fingers over his eyebrows and sighs. “No, that’s not– I just–” He sighs again. His arm drops back down, and he looks at John. “You keep leaving.”

The words startle John. “It’s funny…” he begins slowly, “how one event can be seen in different ways.”

Sherlock cocks his head, but the frown of frustration melts from his face. “What do you mean?”

“You see the leaving. I see the coming back.” It’s not necessarily an admission, but he’s laying more cards on the table than he has up to this point.

Sherlock’s brow furrows a moment, but slowly, John’s meaning dawns. Before he speaks, the frown returns to his face. He doesn’t just look frustrated, though, he looks vulnerable. “Then why won’t you stay for good?”

Hope makes John’s heart beat in double time. Even though Sherlock may not have realized John’s overnight stays are an experiment, he’s been gathering evidence as well. He’s had three months to decide whether he could live with a father and daughter full-time in his home, and he’s apparently decided he can.

The “yes” leaves John’s lips, but he has no air to fully push the word out. He clears his throat, nods, and tries again. “Yes, we– we’ll move back–” but the air leaves his sails before he can finish. Space. There’s not enough. “There’s not enough.”

“What?”

“Space. There’s not enough space. Rosie and I can’t share a bedroom forever.”

“Forever?”

The word is small. Small but hopeful.

John nods. “If you don’t mi–”

“I don’t. It’s fine. It’s good. Very good.”

“Yes, very good.”

It’s Sherlock’s turn to nod.

A half thought slips past John’s lips before he can wrangle it. “Or I could–” He stops it so suddenly his teeth click.

Has Sherlock inched closer? John can feel his warmth through their layers of clothes and the small amount of air between their two bodies.

“You could?” Sherlock breathes.

Maybe it’s John who is closing the gap. He closes his eyes and forces the words out this time. “Kiss you?”

There’s a tiny gasp, and then “Would it help with Rosie’s need for a room?” Tiny puffs of air on his cheek.

“Yeah, I think so.” The words are soft, but loud enough to be heard in their cocoon for two. His nose brushes warm skin.

“Well, for the good of Rosie.” Sherlock inhales.

“She’s worth it.” John’s lips tingle at the nearness.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

#sherlock #johnlock #fanfic #meagan writes #parentlock

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profoundnet · 4 years

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On The Line (T, 23k)

“Well, can I scam you?” Dean’s spoon was frozen, forgotten, halfway between his bowl and his mouth. “Did you just ask if you could scam me?” “Yes.” The guy said, cool as anything. “Can I scam you?”

Or the one where Cas is a scam caller and Dean just keeps intercepting his calls.

Tags: Alternate Universe, Human AU, Scam Caller au

mittensmorgul - @mittensmorgul - MittenWraith

Lifetime Piling Up (E, 59k)

Cas is having a bad day. He burned his bagel, missed his ride to work and had to run to the hospital in the pouring rain, and then witnessed his attending accidentally kill a patient during a routine surgery. Now he might be on the hook for his boss’s mistake, but was it really a mistake, or is he the next target of Dr. Nick Morningstar’s sick mind games?

Dean is also having a bad day. His brother nearly set his kitchen on fire, he’s training a new apprentice in his tattoo shop, and then he gets a mysterious call that Sam needs a ride to the hospital after a freak accident in the pouring rain left him with an injured shoulder. A chance encounter at the hospital leads Dean and Cas to each other after a decade of coincidences and premonitions, and suddenly their worst day might become the foundation for all of their best. A story of choice and destiny, and the power of found family, foretold through uncanny tattoos.

Tags: AU-modern setting, tattoo artist!Dean, surgeon!Cas, angst and fluff and smut

ArielAquariel - ArielAquariel

Quoth the Raven (G, 6k)

Dean Winchester didn’t believe in the occult. Werewolves were a myth, Nessie was a hallucination, and bigfoot was just a large hairy man who enjoyed strolling naked through the woods. He thought that crystals were a load of shit, and a smudge stick would do nothing but make your house smell like burnt sage. He didn’t believe in God, let alone ghosts. Finally, and he was 100% sure on this one, he didn’t believe in witches. Or Wicca. Or whatever they wanted to call it. His point? Everything could be explained. That is, everything but the dark-haired man walking through campus with a spellbook and a raven for a familiar…

Tags: Misunderstandings, Fluff, Pining Dean Winchester, Pining Castiel (Supernatural), Alternate Universe - College/University, Meet-Cute, Animal Lover Castiel (Supernatural)

vicktick - @doespeterparkerisgay - vicktick

two bros, arguing about who would top cause they're not gay (but they are) (T, 3.5k)

“No, I’m telling you, I would be the top if we were gay together.”

Oh, Twitter was going to love this: ‘my brother and his “best friend” are currently arguing about who would top if they were “gay together”. i was pretty sure they already were gay together.’

Tags: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Sam is a Little Shit, Supportive John Winchester

banshee1013 - @banshee1013 - Banshee1013

Suptober Art/Fic (NSFW)

Art and accompanying ficlets to answer Suptober 2019 prompts.

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Depression, Temporary Character Death, Nightmare, Crossover/Fandom Fusion

andimeantittosting - @andimeantittosting - andimeantittosting

I Will Hang My Head Low (M, 22.5k)

Dean Winchester gave up hunting when his brother became the prophesied Boy King of Hell. Now he ekes out a meager living, chopping wood for a nearby village, until one snowy night, he follows what appears to be a falling star, and encounters an injured angel. Afterwards, he tries to put the strange night from his mind.

When he meets Castiel, a mysterious man with healing powers, they form an instant connection, and the more Dean learns of Castiel's powers—to heal, to protect, to purify—the more he begins to hope that Sam can be saved. But as they prepare to save Sam, Castiel grows sick, and then sicker still. Too late, Dean learns how much Castiel is willing to sacrifice for him.

Inspired by the Decemberists' Crane Wife and the Japanese myth on which it is based.

Tags: Temporary Major Character Death, Fairytale/Folktale AU, Sick Castiel, Grief/Mourning, Castiel's Wings, Angst With a Happy Ending

Tentacletober Fills (E, 7k)

A collection of short fills for Tentacletober prompts.

Tags: Tentacles, Consentacles, Oviposition

Erratus - Erratus

A Concerned Brother (T, 2k)

When Sam walks in on Dean and Castiel, he left worried if Castiel understands enough about human relationships.

Tags: Coming out, established relationship, canon verse, mentions of sex but no sex, Sam is concerned for Cas

Watching Over You (T, 4k)

Castiel has always been watching over Dean, keeping him alive. Even if Dean doesn't know it, he's been there.

Tags: Suicidal thoughts/attempt, pre-canon, pre-slash, Cas with different vessels, sad and hurt Dean

cool-fallen-angel - @cool-fallen-angel

Halloween Costumes (NSFW)

I drew this piece for Winchester-reload's 2019 suptoberart challenge, day 31: Halloween

Tags: Halloween, halloween costumes, lingerie, angel costume, playboy costume, blushy Cas, suptoberart, sexy boyfriends

malallory - @malallory

DeanCas "Funeral Bell" graphic (SFW)

Graphic created for the All Ships Creations Challenge under the theme "spooky"

Tags: 15x03

castielslostwings - @castielslostwings - Castielslostwings

Wants and Needs (M, 6.5k)

From a prompt in the Destiel Port FB Group! "Asexual Incubus!Cas and Demisexual Vamp!Dean"

Asexual!Incubus!Cas who has to have sex to feed to stay alive and has always resented it, until he meets Demi!vampire!Dean and discovers that being fed on... actually turns him on, and makes feeding not feel miserable for the first time ever. Imagine Ace!incubus!Cas starving for a long time because he can't stomach the thought of having sex, and then here comes Demi!vamp!Dean feeding on Cas, giving him gratification he thought can only be gained from having sex.

And, you know, they live happily ever after.

Tags: Asexual Castiel, Incubus Castiel, Vampire Dean, Demisexual/Demiromantic Dean, Hungry Castiel, Depressed Castiel, Biting/Blood Drinking, Lonely Castiel, Intimacy, Sweet Dean Winchester.

The Luck You Got (E, 90k)

Castiel and Dean grew up together. Both from broke, broken homes, falling in love was easy - until Dean’s father whisked him away. Years later, Cas is still living the struggle, selling his body to keep a roof over his siblings' heads and using drugs to get by. When Dean returns as a fully grown adult (and a paramedic at that) with his kid-brother-turned-lawyer in tow, Castiel can’t help feeling as if they’re picking up exactly where they left off. Falling swiftly in love all over again but used to only having himself to rely on, he struggles to let Dean in. When Gabriel gets arrested and takes a major source of the family’s income down with him, Castiel struggles to cope and leans on drugs and prostitution instead of Dean. Determined not to lose him for a second time, Dean fights to drag Castiel back from the claws of addiction and the brink of death, no matter what it takes. With help from friends, family, and Dean, Castiel finds himself working towards something for the first time ever, determined to choose life, love, and something more than what the city has always told him is all he has to offer.

Tags: Getting Back Together, Childhood Sweethearts, Neighbors, Poverty, Drug Addiction & Recovery, Sex Worker Castiel, Firefighter/Paramedic Dean, Angst & Fluff & Smut, Happy Ending, Romance.

nickelkeep - @nickelkeep - nickelkeep

‘Cause My Monsters Are Real (T, 8k)

"It's great," Garth responding, grabbing a chair and sliding it over. "Bess is in her glory, and the little one is doing awesome. I love her so much." He smiled a toothy grin that didn't quite meet his eyes. "I'm not here about me, though. I debated coming at all, cause I know how sacred our Fridays are, but I figured you'd want to be prepared."

Sam leaned around Rowena, his arm draped over her shoulder, "What do you mean he'd want to be prepared?"

"You too, Sam. This affects both of you. It literally just happened." Garth hung his head like a kicked puppy. "So, I was back in today, filling out my paperwork to start back up on Monday. And I overheard it."

"Spit it out, Wolfman." Dean leaned his chair back on two legs, foot resting on the table.

"Magda's getting her own room. Emma's getting a new person in the room. They're splitting you two up." Garth looked pathetically at Dean. "You're getting a new partner."

Dean instinctively kicked out, sending him backward and onto the floor. "Ow. What?"

Tags: AU - Creatures & Monsters, Shapeshifter Dean, Fallen Angel Castiel, Human/Monster Society, Kid Fic (kind of), There is Only One Under the Bed

And These Monsters Can Fight (E, 6.5k)

"You think I want to keep her here against her wishes?" Bobby shook his head vehemently. "She'd be one hell of a creature if she were one, but she should go back to the human world. There's a problem that you didn't think of."

"What's that?" Dean spat.

"Dean," Sam softly interjected. "The angels may not want or need Claire anymore because she can no longer be an angelic host, but she is still tied to a source of grace." They all looked at the Fallen.

"I can protect myself!" Claire spoke up. "What do you think I had to do when Castiel couldn't come to me thanks to the stupid rules you all have in place!?"

"Can you protect yourself from three or four or five angels?" Bobby stared at her. "I'll give you one or two, you're a spitfire. But they want him. They're not going to take it light and risk losing a couple when they need all hands on board."

"So what? You want to keep her here?" Dean asked.

Tags: AU - Creatures & Monsters, Story Continuation, Shapeshifter Dean, Fallen Angel Castiel, Human/Monster Society, There is only one under the bed.

Carry Me Home (E, 7k)

"You weren't a scout." Cas opened the laptop and pulled up YouTube. In the search bar, he typed in stopping a squeaking door. He moved the cursor over the first video; from a channel called Impala Repairs. "This looks right." He clicked on the link and grabbed his coffee.

Hey there, and welcome to another quick how-to video with Impala Repairs! I'm your host, D.W., and in today's episode, I'm going to show you the best way to stop a door's hinges from squeaking.

Gabe reached over and pushed up on Cas' chin. "Cassie? You alive over there?"

Cas nodded.

"You need a global reboot?"

Cas pulled his eyes off the screen and shot his brother a look that could kill. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That means," Gabe reached over and took Cas' coffee, "that you were A, so infatuated with Old Green Eyes on the screen there, you almost dumped your coffee on yourself, and B, you have no idea how to fix the door."

Tags: AU - Modern Setting, Handyman Dean, Professor Castiel, Sneaky Brothers, Conspiring Sam and Gabriel, Strangers to Lovers, Crush at First Sight

Like a Burning Flame (E, 8.5k)

"No, no, no." Dean shot up from under his pile of Ikea cardboard. "There's no fire here. The smoke alarm is disabled, we're seasoning our ovens."

The firefighter removed his helmet and mask, taking Dean's breath away as though he had actually inhaled smoke. "Seasoning Ovens?" He cocked his eyebrow, his bright blue eyes shining in confusion. "And that requires smoke billowing out of the back of your building?"

Dean's mouth failed to move, entranced as he was with the gorgeous man in a firefighter's uniform in front of him. Charlie shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Call your guys off so nothing is destroyed by water, and we'll show you." She turned the firefighter back to the entrance and waited 'til he was outside before smacking Dean. "Rush your blood back to your head, will you?"

Tags: AU - Coffee Shops and Firefighters, Baker Dean, Firefighter Castiel, Strangers to Lovers, Uniform Kink, Panty Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Dom/Sub Undertones, Bad BDSM Etiquette

For the Last Time (E, 37k) - co-created with @little-crazy-misha-minion

It's been three years since Dean's had any kind of vacation. Until now. Sam and Eileen gift him a cruise as a thank you for all the things he's done for Sam, for them, for the whole family. A week away at sea seems like an ideal vacation. Still, when your name is Dean Winchester, and nothing in your life has ever gone your way, it looks like a disaster waiting to happen. Can a new friend help him turn his luck around and help him navigate the rough waters?

Tags: AU - Cruises, Closeted Bi Dean Winchester, Gay Castiel, LGBTQ Themes, Angst with a Happy Ending, NonCon Kissing (not Destiel), Anxiety/PTSD, Song Fic, Clubbing, DCBB2019

To Confess (E, 8.5k)

"So get this... We've got couples missing at a couples retreat the next state over."

"Which lovely lady you going with?" Dean uncrossed his arms and smacked Cas' hand away from the tablet so he could scroll through the article.

"Can't find one. Charlie's still not back. Jody's taking Donna on a hunt."

Cas looked up. "Well, there was a lesbian couple that went missing. You can choose a male partner."

"I was hoping you'd say that, Cas." Sam shot a look at Dean before smiling at Cas. "Will you do me the honor of being my fake husband for a case?"

"Excuse me?" Dean shot a look at Sam.

"Well, I'm not asking you, Dean." Sam shook his head. "That's... Yeah, no."

Dean crossed his arms over his chest again. "Why are you and Cas going? Cas is my best friend. He and I can pull it off better than you two can."

Tags: Canonverse, Case Fic, Idiots in Love, Fake Relationship, Breaking Up & Making up, Pray for Sam, Sam Winchester ships Destiel, Angst and Porn, Happy Ending

It’s About To Be Legendary (G, 1.5k)

"I don't want to kill a human!" Luna hissed, her whisper carrying softly so only her boyfriend could hear her. "If you mess up, you'll bring down hunters upon the pack." She whimpered. "You could bring the Winchesters upon us." Apollo stood up and turned around, his shoulders squaring out as he attempted to intimidate Luna into following his lead. "First of all, I'm not going going to fuck up, Lu. Have a little faith in your boyfriend. Second, the Winchesters are a myth. An urban legend. Something our parents tell us to make sure we follow Pack Law."

Tags: AU - Everyone Lives, Hunters and Hunting, Halloween Fic, Urban Legends

prolixdreams - @bringmefleshandbringmewine - prolixdreams

And The World Kept Turning (G, 4k)

It’s getting harder and harder to die.

Cigarettes disappeared off the market forty years past.

Proper alcohol, the poisonous kind, was banned almost immediately once a safer synthetic got a foothold in the market.

Every pill and patch is equipped with tiny computers to detect blood levels of a chemical and only release their payload when the concentration dips below a pre-set threshold, making overdose nearly impossible with anything obtained legally.

Even sweeteners are tightly regulated and highly taxed.

And now, January 17th, 2089, Castiel’s tablet feeds him another headline that promises longer, safer lives for all:

HUMAN-DRIVEN CARS FINALLY OFF ROADS FOR GOOD

Tags: Major Character Death (Implied/Referenced), Future Fic, Castiel drives the Impala

Sarasaurussex - @sarasaurussex - sarasaurussex

Sarasaurussex's Inktober, Suptober, and Profound Inktober Masterlist (NSFW, contains multishipping)

This is all of my Supernatual art for Inktober, Suptober, and Profound Inktober. Mostly Destiel, but contains non-Destiel ships (Sabriel and Sastiel).

Dress For Success (E, 2k)

Written for the Supernatural Kink Bingo on tumblr. My prompt was 'clothing sharing'. Art commissioned by Purgatory-Jar!

Tags: Clothing Sharing Kink, Humor, Smut

Wherever I May Roam (E, 11.5k, contains multishipping)

Summary: Sam and Dean get sent to another TV Land that's slightly different than the last. In this version, Jensen and Misha are dating. Written for Supernatural Kink Bingo on tumblr. My prompt was 'roleplay'.

Tags: Destiel, Cockles, Dean x Misha, Dub-Con due to Identity Issues, Idiots to Lovers, First Time, Arguing, Fluff, Smut

iCeDreams - iCeDreams

Chasing Polaris (E, 52k) - co-created with Takai13sama

Dean Winchester feels closed-in with his life at the behemoth, Mary’s Ark. His father has set him up with an arranged marriage and is refusing to budge on Dean’s suggestions to improve the steam engines. So... he does the most obvious thing surly young men do: he runs away.

While leaving the steam capital, he inadvertently meets Emmanuel, a man with secrets of his own, intriguing Dean enough to offer him a ride to a common destination.

It’s a serendipitous encounter, a trip across the country, and a chance to find where they need to be.

Tags: Steampunk, Arranged Marriage, Road Trip, Running Away

EmiliaOagi - @emiliaoagi - EmiliaOagi

It’s How You Use It (M, 2.5k)

One night Castiel discovers Supernatural fanfiction. Then Dean walks in. Some very meta crack with a smidgen of smut. Based on a prompt from the Profound Bond Discord.

Tags: Smut, Humor, Meta, Crack

Goose!Dean Crack Post 1 (SFW)

Art inspired by Untitled Goose Game and a Discord prompt: goose!Dean playing a prank on a poor unsuspecting Sam.

Goose!Dean Crack Post 2 (SFW)

Goose!Dean really wants that burger. Cas disagrees.

LeafZelindor - @leafzelindor -

Ink/Suptober collection (SFW)

Just the short collection of the destiel pics I did during Inktober/suptober.

Art for Crayons and Candybars (SFW)

Artwork done for the DCBB fic Crayons and Candybars, written by I. Franco

rauko-is-a-free-elf - @rauko-is-a-free-elf - FeaRauko

Ocean’s Brawl (M, 55k)

In a time of oppression, the Winchester brothers and their family of misfit pirates sail the seas attacking slave traders and offering the liberated passage to safe-havens, or–if they choose it–a home on the Impala as part of Team Free Will.

Dean meets Castiel, a Naval Captain with orders to enlist him and his band of honorable sea rovers as privateers. Dean refuses, but they end up working together when Castiel offers his vessel as transport for some rescued slaves. Castiel, in turn, travels with Dean as collateral to ensure there is no foul play.

Along the way, Castiel witnesses the horrors of slavery and begins to doubt his cause, even fighting alongside Dean against a French vessel–Castiel’s own people. Castiel comes to admire this wild crew and their kind hearts…perhaps falling for one man in particular.

Tags: pirate!Dean, naval officer!Cas, enemies to lovers, team free will, openly bi!Dean, demisexual!Cas, swashbuckling, battles, shanties

Rapunzel, Rapunzel (SFW)

Art for @diminuel‘s fic, Rapunzel, Rapunzel

Tags: Rapunzel!au, fairy tale!au, prince!Dean, witch!Cas

Bisexualdemondean - outfit (SFW)

Art created for bisexualdemondean in response to the question: "What if I just wanted to look sluttier?"

Tags: demon!dean art, bisexualdemondean art

Autumn - Eileen (SFW)

Art for Day 1 of winchester-reload's suptoberart challenge

Tags: Eileen Leahy

"Good Thing I'm Yours, Then" (SFW)

Art for winchester-reaload's suptober challenge: Day 3 - Royalty Inspired by @casbeanwrites‘ fic Kiss Me Where I Lay Down

Tags: servant!Dean, prince!cas, fic art

"Kids These Days" - Art for Clarity (SFW)

Destiel art for @aloha-cowgirl‘s fic Clarity

#dean winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #spn #profound monthly masterpost #profoundnet #october masterpost #member fic #member art #member graphic

14 notes · View notes

tacittherapist · 4 years

Text

We open on a familiar scene: Rose perusing media on her laptop. Yes, she’s doing the narration thing and concurrently performing the actions described within the narration. Don’t judge her. If a certain pointy-spectacled too-much-hairspray anime blowhard can do it, so can a depressed goth nerd. Some semblance of rain pours outside: a faint cloud of cosmic dust they’re passing through pelts her windows with sawdust-sized particles. Her eyes glaze over as she goes through her old chat logs.

tacitTherapist [TT] started trolling carcinoGenetics [CG].

TT: Karkat. Let’s talk. I know you have time because I’m currently watching you sitting on a couch in the aftermath of yet another homoerotic tussle with Dave.

CG: ‘HOMOEROTIC’ YET AGAIN MEANS NOTHING HERE YOU RUSTPANNED SHITWEASEL.

TT: I’ve been thinking lately.

CG: OH, REALLY? WOW!! INCREDIBLE LALONDE, YOU MIGHT BE ONTO SOMETHING THERE.

TT: Don’t interrupt me. I’ve been thinking about our situation.

CG: WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘OUR SITUATION?’ ‘OUR SITUATION’ AS IN HOW THIS ENTIRE FUCKING STRUCTURE IS IN LITERAL AND METAPHORICAL SHAMBLES?

CG: LET’S PUT ASIDE THE NEAR CONSTANT ANTAGONIZING BY DAVE’S PREPUBESCENT THINLY-VEILED WAILS FOR HELP CLEANING UP HIS OWN OVERFLOWING SPIRITUAL WASTEPANTS AND PERHAPS ADDRESS THE FACT THAT YOU AND MARYAM HAVEN’T SPOKEN FOR OVER THE EQUIVALENT OF SEVERAL WEEKS?

CG: NOT TO MENTION TEREZI IS STILL MISSING, ALONG WITH A SMALL PORTION OF OUR EVER DWINDLING RATIONS THAT YOU POMPOUS GODTIER SHITSTAINS APPARENTLY STILL PILFER DESPITE NOT EVER NEEDING TO EAT.

CG: OH, AND THERE’S A HOMICIDAL CLOWN LOOSE IN THE VENTS. THERE’S THAT TOO.

TT: Yes, all of those things are items I considered.

CG: OH GREAT. FUCKING GREAT. LET ME GUESS, YOU’VE CONJURED ANOTHER CRACKPAN SCHEME TO SOMEHOW MAGICALLY -- SORRY, ‘MAJJJJJJYYYYKLY’ WHISK ALL OF THIS SHIT AWAY?

TT: No. Our situation is bleak, Karkat.

CG: COLOR ME FUCKING SURPRISED. OUR SITUATION IS BLEAK? HOLY SHIT LALONDE, I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS WHAT YOU SPENT DAYS IN ISOLATION FORMULATING IN THAT ALL-SEEING MIND OF YOURS.

TT: I do have a proposition. And if you’d be kind enough to quit hammering your clumsy sausage fingers upon that poor phone for even a second, you might even get something from this conversation.

CG: ...

TT: Ellipses wholly unnecessary Karkat. Take your fingers off the buttons.

TT: I have a plan to alleviate our circumstances. It’s risky, but better than sitting here for another few years.

TT: Yes, I know you use sweeps and I’m a totalitarian bigot for not using it here.

CG: YOU PREEMPTIVELY ADDRESSING IT DOESN’T MAKE IT LESS TRUE.

TT: Karkat. Fingers off the buttons or I magically disassemble your phone again, and this time I won’t help you reinstall the macro you use specifically to hide Dave’s long rambling text walls about the economy.

TT: Now then, I haven’t received a vision in several months. I can only presume this means the game is testing my mettle by withholding this power from me.

TT: After weighing the factors behind our predicament, I’ve ascertained that there are two latent states to our position, and the game in general.

TT: Moving and stillness. There exist no states outside of those two. Both a successful and a doomed session move; they may only take on the states of ‘successful’ and ‘doomed’ after having progressed to their ultimate conclusion, after all. A null session, by contrast, stands still. Forever locked into a state that is neither successful nor doomed.

TT: If we were to translate our position into one of these two states, we would be null. This is arguably worse than a doomed session, as demonstrated by the slow malaise gradually overtaking everyone’s moods for the past few months.

TT: Obviously we missed our target somehow. Whether by some small deviation in our course, or a slight miscalculation by Sollux, we are definitely not reunited with Jade and John, who were supposed to have crossed paths with us some months ago.

TT: So instead of sitting here, waiting for one of us to miraculously drift into the other, I propose we recalculate our trajectory.

CG: HOW. IF YOU HAVEN’T NOTICED, SOLLUX FUCKED OFF TO TRAIPSE ABOUT THE AFTERLIFE OR AFTER HALFLIFE OR WHATEVER THE FUCK KIND OF NOT DEATH NOT LIFE THING HE HAS GOING ON WITH MEGIDO. SO WE’RE A LITTLE SHORT ON TELEKINETIC POWERS TO GIVE US ANOTHER PUSH.

TT: Incredibly telling that you refer to everyone by first name when you hold more affection for them over everyone else. It’s really not subtle here, Karkat.

CG: FUCK YOU.

TT: Yes, we no longer have psychic powers at our disposals. But I’ve done some detailed calculations on our current path and where we need to be.

TT: There are a number of small cosmic bodies about to pass us. If we simply jump onto one in particular, we should be able to correct our course and meet up with the others to get our session restarted.

CG: IS THAT WHY ALL OUR NAPKINS HAD INANE CLUCKSCRATCH ON THEM?

TT: Yes, but no more inane chickenscratch than all the penises you and Dave drew on them.

CG: OBVIOUSLY YOU KNOW I CAN’T GO ALONG WITH THIS.

TT: Why not?

CG: WELL FIRST, I’M NOT ABOUT TO TRUST NAPKIN MATH. SECOND, IF THIS ISN’T A ONE HUNDRED FUCKING PERCENT CONFIRMED THEORY, I WON’T CHANCE OUR MORTAL LIVES ON A HUNCH THAT YOU GODTIER ASSHOLES FIGURED MIGHT HELP US STARVE TO DEATH EVEN FASTER.

TT: Dave has no hand in this. You’re the first person I’m telling.

CG: WAIT, WHY?

TT: Because I need you to get everyone on board. You’re still the de-facto leader.

CG: THAT’S A LOAD OF HORSESHIT AND YOU KNOW IT.

TT: Your continued denial of this simple fact is more evidence to the contrary.

CG: SO WHAT? YOU WANT ME TO SINCERELY PEDDLE THIS IDEA THAT WE JUST HOP OFF OUR HOME FOR THE PAST TWO SWEEPS BANKING ON THE HOPE THAT WE JUST MEET UP WITH EGBERT AND HARLEY?

TT: Well yes, but I was thinking you’d make it a bit more palatable to everyone else. That’s more your specialty than mine.

CG: YOU REALLY HAVE TO BE FUCKING WITH ME RIGHT NOW. ABSOLUTELY FUCKING WITH ME. THE VERBAL DIARRHEA COMING OUT OF YOUR MOUTH RIGHT NOW CANNOT BE GENUINE.

TT: We’re both typing on phones right now Karkat.

CG: YOU KNOW WHAT I FUCKING MEAN, ASSHOLE. IF YOU CAN’T EVEN CONVINCE ME THIS WILL WORK, WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I CAN CONVINCE EVERYONE ELSE IT WILL? YOU’RE REALLY NOT GIVING ME THE HARD SALE HERE.

TT: I know this, but please just hear me out. Our food will run out in three weeks at most, and that’s if both Dave and I curb the hunger pangs with something else to distract us. Yes, we won’t die, but you will likely suffer more antagonizing at the hands of a Hungry Dave.

CG: NEVER. *EVER*. ****EVER****. CAPITALIZE HUNGRY BEFORE DAVE LIKE THAT EVER AGAIN.

TT: Deal. On the condition you get everyone else on board.

CG: NO DEAL. FUCK YOU AND FUCK THIS DEAL. YOUR PLAN IS A FAT LOAD OF SHIT AND I REFUSE TO EVEN CONSIDER THIS A LEGITIMATE CONVERSATION GIVEN YOU’VE BEEN HOLDING ME AT METAPHORICAL GUNPOINT THIS ENTIRE TIME. I DON’T MAKE DEALS WITH TERRORISTS, LALONDE.

TT: If you could drop the performative morality shtick Dave has been foisting on you for just a moment, what exactly could I say to change your mind? Perhaps you’ll feel differently in two weeks when we’re down to our last few loaves of alchemized bread?

CG: ...

TT: Tell me, does a large ‘JUST’ or ‘HEROIC’ sign pop up when mortals die? I’ve personally never seen it before, but I imagine of the four of your twelve original session remaining, at least one of you must have seen a non-ascended death. Do you think starvation counts as just or heroic? I mean, Dave and I are precluded because the ascension really did remove our need to eat, but maybe if we find one of your quest beds on this desolate laboratory, we might be able to spare at least one of you from eating the others in desperation.

CG: FINE. FUCKING FINE. YOU’VE TWISTED MY ARM. YES, METAPHORICALLY, SHUT THE FUCK UP. I’LL MAKE A DEAL.

TT: Good. Your terms?

CG: YOU HAVE TO GET MARYAM ON BOARD FIRST. IF YOU CAN DO THAT, I’LL TAKE CARE OF CONVINCING THE OTHERS.

tacitTherapist [TT] has stopped trolling carcinoGenetics [CG].

carcinoGenetics [CG started trolling tacitTherapist [TT].

CG: HEY. WHAT THE FUCK?

TT: My finger slipped.

CG: NO IT DID NOT YOU AGGRANDIZING FUCKHOLE.

TT: Did you just call me a ‘fuckhole’?

CG: I’M TIRED AND HUNGRY, SHUT THE FUCK UP.

CG: WHY DID YOU ABRUPTLY CLOSE THE WINDOW.

TT: I don’t know if I can convince Kanaya.

CG: WHY’S THAT? THIS IS THE PERFECT FUCKING CHANCE FOR YOU TWO TO FINALLY TALK. I THOUGHT THIS WOULD ACTUALLY BE EASY FOR YOU.

TT: It’s not that simple.

CG: OHHH WELL EXCUSE ME FOR GETTING MYSELF ENTANGLED IN THIS COMPLEX HUMAN MATING RITUAL. YOU HAVE TO FORGIVE ME IF I JUST MAKE SNIPPY REMARKS EVERY CHANCE I GET WITH CONTEXTLESS DESCRIPTORS THAT ARBITRARILY DESCRIBE YOUR GENDERS.

TT: It’s just not a good time.

CG: HOLY SHIT. YOU THINK IT’S NOT A GOOD TIME? REALLY? WELL I GUESS WE’VE ALL JUST BEEN PLAY ACTING A FOOD AND GRIST SHORTAGE FOR THE PAST FEW WEEKS. HA HA, WHAT A FUNNY AND ELABORATE PRANK WE’VE ALL BEEN PLAYING ON OURSELVES THIS ENTIRE FUCKING TIME.

TT: I mean it’s not a good time to bring this up with her. I’m still sorting out where I stand with her and how I should approach this.

CG: FOR ALL THE “”““CALCULATIONS”“““ YOU JUST PULLED ON ME JUST MOMENTS AGO, SUDDENLY YOU CAN’T NAVIGATE YOUR OWN STUPID IDIOT EMOTIONS?

CG: WOW. JUST WOW. YOU KNOW, DESPITE HER TOTALLY BONEHEADED APPROACH TO VIRTUALLY *EVERYTHING* AT LEAST JADE KNEW HOW TO TACKLE THINGS HEAD-ON. MAYBE WE DO NEED HER HERE RIGHT NOW, IN SOME TWISTED CATCH-22 MOBIUS DOUBLE REACH AROUND AS ALWAYS.

TT: I can convince Dave.

CG: SO CAN A BOTTLE OF FUCKING CIDER.

TT: I mean that as a counter offer. If I convince Dave, you convince the others.

CG: NO DEAL. NOW THE FOOT COVERING IS ON THE OTHER LEGSTUMP, EH LALONDE?

TT: You just used ‘foot’ in the same sentence as ‘legstump’.

CG: YEAH AND I’LL SHOVE MINE STRAIGHT UP YOUR POLYESTER-SWADDLED ASS IF YOU TRY ANY MORE NEGOTIATION. THIS IS MY ULTIMATUM. IF YOU REALLY BELIEVE IN THIS PLAN OF YOURS, IT HAS TO AT LEAST HOLD CONVICTION STRONGER THAN YOUR REFUSAL TO FACE YOUR OWN EMOTIONAL TURMOIL WITH MARYAM.

CG: GET KANAYA ON YOUR SIDE, OR NO DEAL. FINAL OFFER.

TT: ...

TT: Fine. I’ll see what I can do.

CG: GOOD LUCK. SINCERELY THOUGH, LET ME KNOW HOW IT GOES.

TT: Thanks. I told Dave you were talking shit just now, by the way. You should make yourself scarce unless you want an hour-long lecture about how gossip is destroying society and by extension the economy.

CG: FUCK YOU. BYE.

carcinoGenetics [CG has stopped trolling tacitTherapist [TT].

#long post #pesterlogs

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dailyfeartwdgifs · 5 years

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Fear The Walking Dead Season 5, Episode 1 Review: Crash And Burn

I'm having a really hard time mustering up any sort of enthusiasm for Fear The Walking Dead, and the opening episode of Season 5 isn't helping.

It's not that last night's episode was terrible. It even had a few good moments, and an interesting twist with the mysterious armored zombies and the documents Al found, all pointing to the same group that whisked away Rick Grimes in The Walking Dead's most recent season.

Likewise, when Strand (Colman Domingo) discovers that the guy Al (Maggie Grace) knows who has a plane is Daniel (Ruben Blades) and looks so distressed, I had a good chuckle. Strand and Salazar are not on the best of terms.

I even liked the ragtag group of kids that the survivors run into, as well as the new sort-of-bad-guy Logan played by Honey I Shrunk The Kids alum Matt Frewer. I don't think I've seen Frewer in anything since that 1989 film, but I recognized him instantly. I say "sort-of-bad-guy" because the dude has a point. Just because Morgan and his group moved into the Mill doesn't make it theirs necessarily. If he owned it before the apocalypse, I see no reason why he shouldn't own it now. He got them out of there without firing a shot, also, which is pretty nice for a villain, especially compared to basically every other villain in either Walking Dead show.

But other than that, and some cool Alicia (Alycia Debnam-Carey) zombie killing moments, the episode just fell enormously flat for me. I think part of it is the premise now that the show has adopted Morgan (Lennie James) and his do-gooder philosophy. I guess now our heroes are literally heroes, out trying to help people no matter the risk.

Crash Landing

I mean, they somehow managed to get a plane which none of them knew how to fly, and then flew somewhere in order to help Logan (who was tricking them) with no real gameplan. I'm not sure how they were going to fit everyone in such a small plane after this theoretical rescue, but considering that they didn't even know how to land the thing and could have all died in the process, this just strikes me as enormously stupid.

Almost as stupid as not drinking the damn ethanol when the tanker got shot up last season. My goodness, it's like watching a show about the stupidest people alive somehow managing to survive a zombie apocalypse. It's painful to behold. It would be funny if that was the actual premise (seriously, I'd watch the Idiocracy version of The Walking Dead) but alas, these are supposed to be tough, smart survivors. Not the imbeciles they've been written as.

In any case, they crash land and Luciana (Danay Garcia) is impaled in the crash. Nobody else is severely injured. This would have been a good time to kill of Luciana who hasn't been an interesting or useful character since she became Nick's girlfriend shortly after being introduced as a badass leader, but no. Rather than mercy kill her, the character assassination will continue apace.

Also, while I'm happy to see Daniel return (he's by far the most interesting character other than Alicia at this point) I'm not sure why Blades would want to return to this sinking ship. Maybe (hopefully) the season improves after this episode, but I'm not getting my hopes up. The fact that Al has also interviewed him is just too convenient, too much of a coincidence, on top of her having also interviewed Madison before meeting up with Morgan and John Dorie (Garret Dillahunt). Al just knows everybody, I guess. And everybody just magically shows up in the same vicinity as one another for some reason.

Speaking of John Dorie, I really do like his character but they're just not using him for anything interesting at this point. I'm also having a hard time buying his and June's relationship. June (Jenna Elfman) is another character I just have no feelings for whatsoever. Why did they make her a nurse when she's basically a doctor? Nurses don't operate on people. They don't perform major life-saving operations like this at trauma centers or anywhere else. I could believe that she'd make an attempt in a pinch like this, but the whole notion that she's some seasoned surgeon at this point is just silly. Just make her a doctor in the first place if this is how you're going to use her character.

I don't know exactly what it is that rubs me so wrong about June, but I guess maybe it's both Elfman's performance to some degree, as well as her character arc and how she's been written. The whole "nobody can help me" character always running away suddenly transforming into another of Morgan's Avengers just didn't land for me. And I'm not really feeling much chemistry between her and Dorie, though that may be a symptom of the writing.

Stupid Is As Stupid Does

In any case, Al is knocked out and captured by one of the mysteriously armored people because I guess she thought it was a good idea to go back to the crash site in the dark and rain by herself to investigate for some reason. Like everyone else on this show, and for reasons known only to the writers and producers, Al is a total idiot.

Meanwhile, Logan pulls a fast one on Morgan by tricking them into going to a distant truck stop (we still don't know where, but I guess it was far enough that they had to fly in a plane they found somewhere but didn't know how to actually pilot, oh my god who writes this stuff???) and then peacefully taking back what was his to begin with. He even dumped a bunch of their stuff outside the fence in the process. In yet another scene of abject stupidity, when Strand and his new trucker pals, Sarah (Mo Collins) and Wendell (Daryl Mitchell) show up and see other people have occupied their base, they all get out of the truck and point guns at them, just standing there right out in the open, outnumbered, making themselves the easiest targets imaginable. If Logan had been a more ruthless foe, he would have had them all shot right then and there and wouldn't have faced a single loss.

Who does this? Nobody, that's who. Nobody would just walk out there like that, knowing they could be easily shot and killed, with no semblance of strategy and apparently no lines of dialogue either. Also, they'd need to actually help Wendell get out of the truck and into his wheelchair, so now I'm just picturing how ungainly and awkward that must be when you're trying to have a proper standoff. Like, sorry yguys can you just not shoot at us while we get our friend out of the truck and into his wheelchair?

Ugh. What a letdown. This show has really tanked since the new showrunners took over and since virtually the entire main cast was killed off and replaced. I was never the biggest fan of Madison, but she grew on me in Season 3 and it really was a show about her and her kids, and now Nick is dead and Madison is dead and it's like we're watching an entirely different show now. Why not just make a new show instead of cramming this new cast together? It's all so jarring. Morgan makes no sense on this show. I can't stand him and I can't believe they've actually made this show into a "let's help people" story. It was so much more interesting when Madison was playing both sides of the Otto/Native American conflict, or when we had characters like Troy around keeping us on our toes.

It's gone from a zombie show about morally grey characters to one led Morgan Jones for goodness sakes. Morgan is a fine character, as a secondary character, as Rick's mentally disturbed friend, as a moral compass for the main group. He's not a leader or a lead.

It's a crying shame that it's come to this. I am not particularly hopeful for this season, though they've surprised us before. Last season I actually really enjoyed the first few episodes before it went over the cliff, jumped the shark, killed off the best characters and introduced the lamest villain any zombie show has ever seen. So maybe the opposite will happen here, and the writing will improve and our heroes will stop acting so stupid all the time and we'll get a decent conflict.

Yeah, I don't think so, either, but it never hurts to have a little hope. Rebellions are built on hope.

#ftwd #fear the walking dead #season 5 #spoilers #review #article #forbes #aheartfulloflexa #camila

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themyskira · 6 years

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Wonder Woman Annual #2

Previously in FUCKITY FUCK FUCK I FORGOT THERE WAS AN ANNUAL AS WELL: Diana prepared to face down her most terrifying foes yet: the Dark Gods.

Who or what are the Dark Gods? Dunno.

What do they want? No clue.

What is this awesome and terrible power that they wield? So far, mostly just the ability to shoot lasers out of their eyes and incite people to deliver badly-written villainous monologues.

Why are we supposed to be so pants-pissingly afraid of them? Because James Robinson told us so.

Last issue ended with the Dark Gods manifesting over Washington DC, at which point it was revealed that they are… giant floating statues, I guess? But, like, scary floating statues. With lasers. So scary.

And then moments later, a couple of Star Sapphires arrived to whisk Diana away so she could appear in this shitty annual.

Diana is teleported to the Star Sapphires’ home planet of Zamaron, which is heavily battle-damaged.

The two Sapphires who brought her here are called Miss Bloss and Miri Riam, who are apparently pre-established minor Green Lantern characters — something I had to figure out on my own, because Robinson just assumes we all known them, and that Diana does too (I’m reasonably sure they’ve never met). The one time his overexplaining might have actually been useful, and he couldn’t be arsed taking a panel or two to make introductions.

Diana yells at them that she’s too busy to help with whatever their deal is, and launches into a recap of last issue. But, you know, that was all of two weeks ago, so by all means, spend a page getting us up to speed.

She’s also still throwing around ‘crazy’ and ‘insane’ like they’re going out of style.

“…and although I’m not certain — the woman who told me was insane at the time--“

How about ‘possessed’, ‘out of control’, ‘somewhat incoherent’ or ‘compromised’? Any of these would be more accurate in this context, as well as not equating mental illness with dangerous and violent behaviour.

But anyway, essentially Diana says ‘my world is being attacked by the Dark Gods and it’s my fault’, and Miss Bloss is like, ‘well, if that was your fault, then our thing must be your fault, too’, and points up at the giant floating Dark God statue thing that Diana has somehow failed to notice until this exact moment.

Oh, goody.

Diana starts questioning them about what happened. Honestly, that’s really all she does these days. If she’s not delivering plot recaps herself, she’s setting up allies for flashback-exposition or allowing villains to monologue at her. Oh, sure, occasionally she fights somebody, but mostly she’s just a vessel for tedious exposition.

Miss Bloss describes the Dark God’s attack:

“Even to recall it now, it feels like a dream or vision from another world. Almost like we were looking at ourselves from outside of it all.”

The first time I read this, I took it to be a figure of speech. I interpreted it as an expression of Miss Bloss’s deep level of shock at the devastation she’d experienced, that it still felt unreal, as though it had happened to somebody else.

I was giving Robinson too much credit: he meant it literally.

As we’ll learn in a few pages’ time, one of the Dark Gods has some kind of power over people’s perceptions, enabling him to induce in others a sense of unreality and dreamlike detachment. We’ll learn that the Dark Gods have deliberately used this ability in order to confuse enemies and limit their ability to respond to or even comprehend attacks.

Frazer Irving — who illustrates the flashback, along with a couple of other scenes in this issue — plays into this well. His stylised art and colour work lends a somewhat eerie dreamlike quality to his pages, creating a sense of altered reality.

Unfortunately, Robinson can’t write dreamlike.

So what in theory should be an eerie, confusing, unreal flashback instead just turns into Miss Bloss telling us that her memories of the attack are eerie and unreal and hazy… aaaaand then proceeding to describe the attack, the enemy, his name, the concept he embodies, his powers and the precise reason why he was able to kill so many Star Sapphires, all in exacting detail.

The Dark God who attacked the Sapphires is called Karnell and he calls himself the god of love, but the love he embodies is dark and gritty and edgy and corrupted. He can sense any ‘impurities’ or ‘flaws’ in a person’s love and rub it in their faces. When he does this to Star Sapphires, something something their rings freak out and they spontaneously combust.

Diana asks, ‘yeah okay, but you didn’t know that this was my fault when you dragged me here, so what gives?’, and Bloss and Miri are like, ‘welp, our leaders are all dead, Carol Ferris is busy in another comic, we all frankly suck, and you were a Star Sapphire once in that Blackest Night crossover event.’

At which point I went, ‘wait huh what??? but that was before the New 52 reboot!’, before remembering that Geoff Johns’ entire preboot GL run survived the reboot for no other reason than because Geoff Johns gets whatever he wants.

Diana agrees to lead the Sapphires against Krakoom (I’m sorry, I’m not going to bother to learn his name, he’s not worth that kind of time), and the Sapphires respond by giving her the Nazi salute due to an unfortunate artistic miscalculation.

Diana: And if I am going to stand among you — fight alongside you — let me look the part. Sapphires: As you wish it, so do we, Wonder Woman… be a Star Sapphire once more.

And with that, they give Diana a makeover.

It’s not a bad costume, especially when you compare it to her Blackest Night design. That one tried to ape Carol Ferris’ hideous then-costume, which featured hip cut-outs and a plummeting neckline that ended around the crotch area, by giving Diana a bathing suit with hip-holes and a bared midriff. This design retains many familiar Star Sapphire costume elements — the stiff pointed white collar, the combination tiara/mask, the starburst symbol, the long gloves and high boots — without going into creepy male-gazey territory.

buuuuut it also looks like Diana is wearing a pink apron over her usual costume, and that is something I cannot get past. It also varies wildly across the issue, depending on which of the four credited artists is drawing it.

By the way, I say ‘makeover’ because despite violet blaze on her right ring finger, it took me several times flicking back and forth before I was certain that Diana had been deputised into the Corps as opposed to just being given a new costume in order to “look the part”, as she put it. I know this sounds like it should have been self-evident, but Robinson gives absolutely no indication of any deeper change in her. Not even lip service to the fact that Diana is connected, through the power ring, to the emotional spectrum and the violet energies of love.

Contrast this with Diana in Blackest Night: Wonder Woman #3:

“Extraordinary. All of them, in their way, have tried to explain it to me before. Hal, John, Kyle… even Guy, may Ares watch and aid him. But it defies all attempts. There is no way to describe it. What it is to wear a power ring, and feel emotion made manifest. To wear fear on anger or will or hope on one’s hand… To wear love. Too beautiful for words…”

There’s a lot about Wondy’s Blackest Night tie-in that’s flawed and frustrating and flat-out bad, but this page gets it right. If you’re going to make Diana a Star Sapphire — going to give one of the most loving hearts of the DCU the power to channel her love into tangible power — then you need to acknowledge the weight of that.

In this comic, it’s as insubstantial as a costume change.

Flying up to confront Kratakoa, Diana wonders if she could really have summoned the Dark Gods. Supergirl said she brought them into this plane with a careless wish, and… oh, come to think of it, she did inadvertently make a wish during the recent Dark Nights: Metal crossover, while coincidentally handling some magical wishing metal. But nah, that couldn’t possibly have done it!

She reaches the big floaty statue and a bloke with spiky wings emerges from it. It’s Klangalang, and he’s got his monologue cued up and ready to go!

He opens with a fairly standard ‘ahaha, I’ve been expecting you, hero!’, and the implications fly straight over Diana’s head.

Kibble: You came, Amazon! Sooner than I expected, too! Good… I’m going to love this! Diana: You’re some kind of seer, too? You expected me?

Let’s review: The villains Diana supposedly summoned, the villains who have been trying to kill or neutralise Diana before she can interfere in their plans, have attacked the Star Sapphires in advance of their invasion of Earth. Despite not knowing about Diana’s connection to their attacker, the Sapphires reached out to her for help, teleporting her away at almost the exact moment that the villains launched their opening assault. Now the one villain who hasn’t joined the invading force is cackling that he’s been expecting Diana.

Even a half-competent hero should be able to join the dots and realise they’ve been deliberately lured away. Not so Robinson’s Diana, who gazes at him wide-eyed and demands, ‘omg, u expected me? are u psychic or sumthin???’

After a couple more rounds of obscenely dense questions from Diana (along with another out-of-character ’crazy’ slur), Klunk ends up having to straight-up spell it out for her. He also explains how she summoned the Dark Gods.

Krunch: You wished for the gods’ return. Well, here we are. Here I am! Diana: Like a dream, but yes, of course. But I meant the Greek pantheon, not— Krump: Gods! That’s all you said.

Small nitpick: Diana would not think of her gods the “Greek pantheon”. She’d be more likely to call them “the Patrons”, “my gods”, “the gods of my people”, “the gods of Themyscira”, “the gods of Olympus”, “the Olympians” — she knew them as all of these things long before she knew Greece, or any world outside her island home, existed. The only reason she might refer to them as “Greek” is for the benefit of people in Man’s World, as a point of reference.

More importantly, are you friggin kidding me, the friggin layers of incompetence here from our supposed hero

accidentally makes a wish while wielding a weapon of magical wishing metal

manages to make the vaguest wish possible, opening a loophole for THE WORST GODS to infiltrate reality

immediately forgets she ever wished it

why would she even wish for that?! her gods haven’t gone anywhere!

To be somewhat fair, the reason she doesn’t really remember it is that “the God With No Name” (YES REALLY) made it all feel like a dream so that she wouldn’t realise she’d made an irresponsible wish and needed to immediately rally everybody together to resist the Dark Gods.

Except… that in itself doesn’t make any sense.

There are two possibilities here: the Horse With No Name could have clouded Diana’s memory of making the wish after the Dark Gods were pulled into this reality — in which case, why? How would she even land on the conclusion that she’d accidentally summoned some evil gods that she’d never heard of, when her intent was to call on her own gods and she’d had no indication that it had even worked?

Alternatively, he clouded her mind in the moment of the wish, to render her thoughts vague and imprecise and open the door for the Dark Gods’ invasion. Which doesn’t work either, because it turns out that the Dark Gods are pretty pissed off at being pulled out of their awesome reality.

King Koopa: War was declared the moment you dragged us from our home… our beautiful world — which you regard as the ‘Dark Multiverse’ — we see as a paradise… where we were more than even gods to our worshippers… we were everything!”

So basically their plan is to turn Earth into a desolate hellscape just like their home.

Diana, who has already been told that Kraig is a god of corrupted love, conveniently forgets this fact just so that Robinson can tell it to us again.

Diana: You call yourself a god of love. What kind of love wants to be feared? Love is unconditional. KHAAAAAN: Spoken like the addled naive romantic I expected. Love always comes with conditions. Sometimes, I confess, I question… am I god of that love, of those conditions behind it? But then I realise… I don’t care.

Cool story. Glad we can agree on one thing, at least.

He monologues for a couple of pages about how he’s going to open her eyes to the truth of how horrible and selfish and corrupt love is, then draws Diana into his mind so that he can monologue some more.

We learn that the world of the Dark Gods was forged by a group of divinities called Titans, “much like the reality of your own Greek pantheon” (incorrect, you’re thinking of the Protogenoi; the Titans were the second generation of gods). But because these Titans were hardcore, they did it by smashing five other realities together. And into this terrifyingly dark edgy metalscape came… +~teh D4rK g0dz~+

Robinson then undermines the super-extra-double-dark feel he’s going for with another embarrassing name and an accidental rhyme.

“We Dark Gods followed, as gods do. King Best and then the rest.”

KING. BEST.

But wait, we haven’t even gotten to Kalamazoo’s dark edgy totally original backstory!

In fact, this is so dark and edgy and original that I’ll throw in a quick content warning here for descriptions of domestic violence and shittiness towards sex workers.

“You’ll meet a boy — his mother broken by a wanton father who forced her to cheapen herself further with wraiths and under-beings. The mother died — beaten to death. When he saw her blood still dripping from the fists of his father, the boy ran, fearing the same fate. The boy loved his mother, but hated his father and the world. Both emotions — love and hate — burned so brightly that even from within the darkness of our world, their glow caught the eye of mighty King Best.”

Domestic violence! Sexism! Slut shaming! Fridging! It’s like a game of grimdark bingo!

After three goddamn pages of this, Diana suddenly twigs what we all figured out eleven pages ago, ‘oh now waaaaaait a minute, you didn’t lure me here so that your buddies could invade Earth while I’m distracted, did you?’

Klinger responds by almost murdering Diana, and is only stopped by the intervention of the Star Sapphires. They all retreat, and Diana proposes a new plan: all the Sapphires will channel their energy into her, something something, true love wins the day.

So Diana flies up to Kimberley, sword held aloft and blazing with violet energy, and announces, ‘boy did you make a mistake when you told me that you used to be a sad boy child! now I have only love in my heart for you!’

Karma Khameleon is like, ‘oh no, love! my one true weakness!’, and I’m like, “d… didn’t we just have this story?”

Then Diana straight-up stabs him with her love sword, and Korgo fades away with an ‘I’ll beat you next time, Captain Planet! Next tiiiiiime…’

Diana farewells the Star Sapphires, and Robinson shoehorns in this bit of virtue signalling:

Miri: Please… Diana, think of us as your sisters, too, for all time. Diana: Or “brother,” I notice. Miss Bloss: Love is love, no matter who bears the heart.

This is a welcome and needed change to the Star Sapphires. The fact that they have been portrayed up until this point as an all-women corps (with the exception of a few briefly deputised blokes) is bound up in ugly gendered ideas, exemplified by Geoff Johns’ comment in 2009 that “anyone can join, but most men are not worthy”.

But there’s something gratingly self-congratulatory in the execution of this course correction. Robinson’s doing the absolute bare minimum here — including one or two male background characters in a handful of panels — and flagging it as progress with a phrase associated with the LGBTI community. We haven’t even seen a single named male Sapphire, let alone one with a speaking part; I think it’s a little premature to be looking for kudos. And either Miri or Miss Bloss could very easily have been replaced in this story by a new male character.

The Sapphires teleport Diana back to Earth, where she finds DC a smoking ruin. And as the air clears, she sees—

—wait for it—

—this is truly shocking and terrifying—

THE DARK GODS MADE A MEGAZORD

THEY MADE A FUCKING MEGAZORD WITH THEIR DUMBASS FLYING STATUES

A GODDAMN MEGAZORD WHO WHAT HOW WHY.

Diana’s face does this:

#the james robinson shitshow #comics talk

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little-inkstone · 6 years

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A Fate Sealed with String Part 7

Summery: After meeting the man her parents have arranged for her to marry, Belle decides she’ll take her own fate into her hands. Literally, with the help of a charmed piece of thread that will lead her to her true love.

AN: I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

AO3

The first thing Belle realized while she traveled without Rumple was that she missed him. Her heart yearned for him in a way that it never had for anything else before. Even when she met a young Princess traveling to the same destination and joined her she still longed for Rumple. Anna was good company and they became fast friends over the two days they traveled together. Belle had wanted to see the Valley of the Trolls just to see it, but Anna needed their help. The trolls had told Anna what she needed to know Belle decided to help her get home as fast as possible and they had raced their way down the mountain. Everything had seemed to be going well but that hadn’t lasted for long.

Anna was dead.

Belle lay on the side of the cliff they had been traveling down, her hand reaching into thin air as tears filled her eyes. She let out a sob and rolled away from the cliff, curling into a tight ball as she cried. Anna had been suspicious of a woman that had claimed to be her aunt and was hoping the trolls could tell her if it was true. It had sounded like an adventure to Belle. One that would help distract her from her own swirling thoughts. And maybe if she helped the princess with her problem an answer would come to her. Now all of that was for naught. A storm had whipped up just as they sidled along a sheer path etched into the side of the mountain. The path was safe enough in normal weather, but beyond treacherous otherwise. Nothing had been natural about the snow storm; clearly it was the work of Anna’s aunt. The wind had all but grabbed Anna and pulled her off the cliff, leaving Belle to desperately try her best to reach for her new friend. She had stretched as far as she could, almost falling off the path herself. Belle’s hand had just barely missed Anna’s and she watched in horror as her friend fell.

She had failed, she had been so close to grabbing her and she hadn’t made it.

“Rumple,” Belle cried as she cradled the necklace he had given her. “Rumple, help me.”

He was there before she had even finished speaking. Belle felt his arms wrap around her, strong and reassuring and everything she needed. She clung to him as he ran his hands along her body, his voice panicked as he searched for some kind of injury. He wouldn’t find one, she was fine, she was safe, but Anna wasn’t.

“Belle, please,” Rumple begged, worry making his voice high. “Tell me what’s wrong; I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“I failed her.” Belle said. “I failed Anna and she’s gone.”

“Who, Belle, who?” He asked, trying to lower his voice so it was more soothing instead of panicked.

“Anna, my new friend.” Belle repeated pointing over the cliff. “She f-fell; I couldn’t reach her in time.” Her voice broke and she began to cry harder.

His lips thinned and he carefully removed her from his arms. Rumple tucked her against the side of the mountain to keep her safe and pulled a white cotton handkerchief from thin air. Gently he dabbed at her cheeks and then handed her the cloth. He kissed her forehead and pushed a strand of her hair out of her face; then he stood with a grim look.

“Don’t move. I’m going to be right back.” Rumple said.

Belle nodded, her face blotchy and red from her tears. She was confused and scared as he looked over the side of the cliff and her heart almost stopped when he kneeled and began to climb his way down.

“No, don’t I can’t lose you!” Belle said jerking forward to grab him.

“I’ll be fine Belle, I’m using magic.” He said, raising his hand to keep her from getting closer as he hung off the side of the mountain. “I’m going to go and see if there’s anything that can be done for your friend, the fall might not have…” Rumple trailed off and Belle nodded jerkily.

They both knew the chances of that were very low, but his words made her hope. Belle sat for a long moment, trembling as she waited for Rumple to return. Two short days ago she had been with him in the capital, happy and safe. Honestly she wished she’d stayed there with Rumple. Her time away from him had done nothing for her confusion and had only made her ache with loneliness for him. That’s why she and Anna had been on such a dangerous path, both of them had been in a hurry to return, but Belle had been the one to suggest such a risky route. Closing her eyes she pressed her forehead to the tops of her knees. Her foolishness had led to Anna’s death. If Belle had just stayed with Rumple then Anna would be safe still and on her way to warn her sister of the danger their aunt posed.

The sound of rustling made her look up and she let out a relieved sigh. “You’re okay.”

“I am, but Belle, are you sure your friend fell?” He asked as he pulled himself up and kneeled beside her. His hand reached out to gently brush her hair out of her face, the wind kept throwing it into her face.

“Yes, I-I couldn’t reach her.” Belle said, more tears beginning to fill her eyes again. “I failed her.”

“No, no, Belle you did your best, I know you did. I’m just sorry I wasn’t here.” Rumple said, carefully he wrapped his arm around her and she tucked herself under his chin.

“You should have been with us; I shouldn’t have asked you to stay behind. I’ve missed you so much and now everything’s gone wrong because I couldn’t just admit I love you.” She whimpered.

Rumple made a strangled noise at her words but cleared his throat and pushed away what she had unknowingly said. They could deal with that later.

“Belle, please, listen to me, your friend – Anna was it? – she wasn’t down there, and the air was thick with magic.” He told her, tilting her jaw so she was looking into his eyes.

“W-what?” Belle asked. “What does that mean?”

“It means she never hit the ground.” He said gently. “Someone whisked her away.”

“Then she’s alive!” She gasped, grabbing the lapels of his shirt. More tears sprung to Belle’s eyes, but this time they were from relieved joy. “It must have been the trolls! They said they would watch out for us.”

“There was no malic in the spell, I think you’re right.” Rumple said. He pressed his forehead to hers and smiled. “I’m so relieved you won’t have to carry the burden of feeling like you failed someone.” He added, almost so softly she didn’t hear him.

His words confused her. She thought on them the entire time they traveled down the mountain. And continued to think about them as she and Rumple made their way to the castle to make sure Anna really had survived. The words haunted her even more so as she introduced her new friend to Rumple and his eyes had turned sad and preoccupied. That night she couldn’t sleep; she lay in her bed in the inn and remembered his words from their ride so many months ago. There was a hurt in Rumple’s past, a regret that still needled at him. It wasn’t her place to ask, but he was hurting and all she wanted was to comfort him as best she could.

Biting her lower lip she slipped from her bed and wrapped herself in a thick gold coloured shawl. Her heart raced as she quietly left her room and walked the short distance from her room to his. Going to a man’s room in the middle of the night was rather scandalous, but after having slept in the same bed as Rumple Belle doubted this would do anymore damage to her reputation. Softly she knocked on his door, stepping from foot to foot as she waited from to answer. When a few silent moments went by without a reply Belle let out a sigh. It was foolish to think he would be awake just because she was, and if he were sleeping she didn’t want to wake him. At least someone needed to get some sleep. Just as she was about to leave the door creaked open slightly and Rumple peeked out, when he saw her he opened the door wider.

“Belle, what’s wrong?” He asked worriedly.

For a moment words abandoned her as she looked at him. Rumple was in nothing but a sleeping shirt that was open down to the middle of his chest. The string that kept it closed was missing she couldn’t help but stare at the large patch of tan skin on display. Her eyes drifted down, realizing he wasn’t wearing sleeping pants and his feet were bare as well. She had never seen him with so little on before. On the ship he had worn long johns a sleeping shirt laced up and pants with socks. Belle had wondered if he was cold, but now she realized that he had been trying to preserve her modestly. Her mouth went dry as she looked at him and her cheeks began to heat.

“Belle?” Rumple repeated, his hand reaching out to grasp her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” She replied, his touch shocking her out of her daze. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you, I just…”

She licked her lips, suddenly unsure of herself. When she had been alone in her room slowly being driven mad with curiosity this had seemed like a good idea. Now faced with a Rumple who was so close to nakedness she wasn’t as sure.

“Anything you need, Belle, I am your loyal servant.” He told her earnestly.

“Today, on the mountain, you said you were happy I wouldn’t have to carry the weight of having failed someone I cared for, and when we rode together you mentioned not being in time to save someone. What did you mean?” Belle asked.

It was best to just get it out of her mind. If he didn’t want to talk of it he could send her back to her room. He lowered his head, his eyes shadowed by his hair, his lips were had thinned with a deep grimace. The look made Belle wish she wasn’t so bull headed and reckless. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him, she wanted to comfort him, but instead she had ended up causing him more pain by dredging up old wounds. Silently Belle cursed herself for the unintentional cruelty. Just as she was about to apologize and return to her room he looked back up at her.

“I’ll tell you, but not in the hall where anyone can see you, please, come in.”

He opened his door wider and gestured for her to come in. Belle took a step forward and then froze when she saw his bed. Of course he would have one in his room, she wasn’t foolish enough to think he was sleeping on the floor, but it hadn’t crossed her mind. Taking a deep breath she walked in anyway, she had shared a bed with this man, it didn’t matter if they were alone with one and he was almost naked. Belle had begun this and now she needed to be brave.

Perhaps if she acted brave bravery would follow.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #A Fate Sealed with String

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bossyblondebabe · 7 years

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3 decades of bestie's

Klaroline Drabble with a Carenzo brotp, Klaus is a little (maybe more than a little) jealous

——–

Enzo St. John was the bane of his bloody existence.

After three long decades Caroline was Klaus’, the unpleasantries of Mystic Falls long forgotten, Caroline’s worldview in more shades of grey, and Klaus learning to live a life not on the run meant a beautiful bossy blond was finally ready to let him show her the world, evidently with her new ‘bestie’ in tow.

In all fairness she had explored most of Europe with just him, the memories of her lithe body moving against him, panting into his ear as the cool Parisian air blew lightly around them, the Eiffel Tower a backdrop as she rode him on their hotel balcony and made him thank gods he didn’t believe in, still a delightfully vivid memory burned into his brain, and one he used to force himself to refrain from tearing Enzo’s intestines out and chocking him with them every time Enzo dared Caroline to steal a piece of art as some ongoing game they had going for the last 30 years (although the mischievous twinkle in her eyes did something to his self-control), or when he whispered some random word into her ear that for some reason made her burst out laughing. It annoyed him to no end that she only ever explained by telling him it was an inside joke. It also didn’t help that he simply hated asking things, because really he was over a 1000 years old he should be able to figure out why the word “crackerjack” made the love of his life laugh uncontrollably. But alas all the annoyances of Enzo would have to live on, Klaus would never deny Caroline of her best friend, would never dream of denying her anything that made her happy. Because, although he would never admit it to anyone but her, Caroline was what made him happy, although that word seemed to be wholly underwhelming for his feelings for her, he meant it in the fullest sense. Her smile made him smile, her wit ignited him, those delicious little sounds she made for him pushed him over the edge. And so he couldn’t kill him, no matter how much Enzo’s excessively long beauty rituals, or constant foot tapping made Klaus want to throttle him, he couldn’t take away any of her happiness.

Enzo had joined them after they had been traveling together for nearly a year. Klaus took her to his beloved New Orleans for Mardi Gras, and upon dragging her to his compound, itching to see her naked and writhing in a place he once called home, he was instead royally upset to find an unwelcome guest, who, in his option was far too at ease in his presence.

An excited screech from Caroline, a fond ‘Gorgeous!’ from Enzo and Klaus’ love literally running into the arms of another man had Klaus digging his nails into his hand, drawing blood, and unknowingly letting a bit of his wolf features out to play.

He calmed himself, of course, because, obviously Caroline liked this raven-haired vampire who felt entirely too comfortable calling Klaus’ love an endearment, and he had no intention of driving her away by biting her friend. And so he had, albeit reluctantly, invited him to stay with them, and then to enjoy Mardi Gras with them, all while trying very hard to not decapitate his head with a slap for the casual arm he had strewn across Caroline’s waist. Klaus had expected the man, who Caroline seemed to have inside joke after inside joke with, to leave after the festivities. Apparently he had other plans. When Klaus pointed out their guest’s extended stay, Caroline had painstakingly explained to Klaus how she and Enzo had made so many plans and how she owed him and couldn’t he just try to be friends with him?

Which is how Klaus Mikaelson, The Original Hybrid, found himself 'backpacking’ through India, carrying luggage, whilst being, what can really only be described as, a third wheel. Originally the plan was for Caroline and Enzo to go to India for 2 weeks and then for Caroline to meet up with Klaus in Tokyo, for what Klaus was sure was going to be a week of fantastic sex as they finished off the three cities he promised to whisk her off to many moons ago. He had been so looking forward to watching her face light up as her mouth formed that adorable little 'o’ it always did when she was absorbing a new culture, as well as the less adorable and more mind-blowingly sexy little 'o’ shape her lips always made when she came, intensely and loudly, as she always did when they christened a new city.

But then Enzo, the mouthy bastard, had made a comment about how excited he was to have 'slumber parties’ just like 'the good-old days’ with Caroline when it was just the two of them. Of course he said it with a wink with the express purpose of pissing Klaus off, which Klaus knew, of course. And obviously Klaus wasn’t jealous because Caroline loved him and he wasn’t a high school boy who needed to watch over his girl.

He was just worried about Carolines safety is all.

Yup.

See India could be a very dangerous country, and Klaus simply thought he should tag along to make sure they were safe. The fact that Caroline and Enzo were both very capable vampires, one who started fighting and winning supernatural fights since she turned, and the other a survivor of 70 years of torture, was of little importance to Klaus.

So he joined them, Caroline more than a little annoyed at his possessiveness and Enzo throughly amused by it. And it absolutely, completely, unquestionably did not make his fangs pop out and his bloodlust roar when he witnessed Enzo pull Caroline onto his back for piggyback rides with such ease and comfort it had to have been a frequently practiced event, or when Caroline would wake early to go to Enzo’s room to act as if she were his lover to scare off his one night stands.

Nope not at all.

And when a walk through a crowded market led to him and Enzo cut off from Caroline, he absolutely, positively did not contemplate snapping the man’s neck and kicking him under a fabric stand, just for a few hours away from his incessant chatter.

And if a wall or two got punched and consequently shattered, well isn’t that much better than Caroline knowing that Enzo’s comfort with her body was driving him to the brink of insanity? He thought so.

It wasn’t that he thought they had been or were currently sleeping together (Caroline had assured him that no, they never so much as kissed). It wasn’t even that he suspected Enzo would make a play for his love (he had thought it, originally, and who could blame him really, the guy called her Gorgeous every 30 seconds. But time and stories let that worry rest, slightly). It wasn’t even the usually ever-present fear of betrayal that had haunted him the last 1000 years (if there was one thing he learnt in the year they toured Europe, it was that when Caroline was in she was All In). No there wasn’t any rational, sane reason why 2 weeks in New Orleans and almost 2 weeks in India had Klaus, a man who waited 1000 years to break a single curse, developing an eye twitch. It was, plain and simple, jealously. Enzo had spent the last 30 years with her, bumming around the globe, partying, laying on the beach for days at a time, it made sense that he had jokes and comfort with her that Klaus didn’t yet, but that didn’t quell that burn that started in his chest and fell to his stomach.

What grounded him (what always grounded him) was her lips. Because even when Enzo was the one making her laugh, it was still her, Klaus’ love, full of light, who’s lip curved into that beautiful shape, which never failed to surpass that jealously.

And in the end, it was his arms she was sleeping in. His love she chose now, when it mattered, and forever. Because although he wished he hadn’t missed the last 3 decades with her, it was what they needed, to be ready for an eternity. So Klaus supposed on some level, perhaps, Enzo wasn’t all that horrible (perhaps he had slightly helped Caroline grow to understand the world and the role of good and bad in it), all though Klaus maintained the man’s beauty rituals were still exhausting.

#mine #klaroline #fics #klaroline Drabble #carenzo #Caroline Forbes #klaus mikaelson #enzo st. john

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trendingnewsb · 6 years

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5 Theories That Make Famously Bad Movies Awesome

Bad movies are everywhere — in theaters, on TV, and we’re reasonably sure that terrible script ideas constantly hover around Michael Bay like cartoon stink lines. But while it’s easy to shit all over these films, let’s take an affirmative approach for a change. If you use a heaping helping of positive thinking, some cinematic turds can become cinematic gold. Or, at the very least, semi-watchable. For example …

Aliens Aren’t The Real Bad Guys In The Alien Movies — It’s AI

Alien: Covenant, which came out this past summer, isn’t good. Even after audiences laughed at Prometheus for having a team of scientists act like Camp Crystal Lake counselors, Covenant somehow made its characters even stupider. People willingly shove their faces into slimy monster eggs and have steamy shower sex despite the fact that all their friends have been murdered. And remember how people criticized the Prometheus guys for recklessly taking off their space helmets on an uncharted planet? The Covenant crew throw on nothing but some windbreakers and floppy hats, as if their expedition is sponsored by J. Crew.

20th Century FoxWhich explains why they’d risk everything to find the source of a fucking John Denver song.

What’s interesting about the movie, though, is that it’s establishing an elaborate creation mythology for the Alien series. It’s basically a Bible story with vagina dentata monsters. Our first clue that things are about to get Biblical is that the ship is named Covenant, as in a pact with God, and it has an Ark-like load of couples to populate a new world. Also in the not-so-subtle Biblical allusions camp, James Franco is seemingly Space Jesus.

20th Century FoxWe regret to inform you that a Sony executive read that joke and greenlit Space Jesus, featuring James Franco.

The movie was originally subtitled Paradise Lost, a reference to John Milton’s epic poem about Satan and the Fall of Man. Despite the name change, a lot of that’s still in the movie. The android David rebelled against his human creators in Prometheus. By the time of Covenant, he’s killed all the Engineers, aka the alien species that genetically manufactured the human race. So yeah, David has killed “God” two times over, and has cobbled together an entire army of gross-out monsters, as Satan generally requires an army of high-grade slobs.

But more interesting than simply dabbling in familiar theological themes is the way this movie, in a sense, becomes a sacred text for the original Alien. If you think back, the villain of that film wasn’t even really the alien — it was Ash the android, and to a lesser extent Mother, the ship’s computer which was presumably from Apple’s “Uncomfortably Oedipal” line of future operating systems.

20th Century Fox

20th Century FoxYou know Ash was made by Apple too, because his innards are a bunch of needlessly confusing proprietary cables.

With Covenant, we get to see the crazy ancestry behind that conflict. Ash is likely a descendant of David, who genetically engineered that black Flubber stuff into the alien in the first place.

20th Century FoxSo yeah, the movies are less Alien, more Handsome Robot Space Satan.

So the events of Alien aren’t merely an incredible screw-up on the part of a space mining company; they’re another example of AI trying to eradicate humanity with the alien, which we now see is a decades-old conflict. Also, if we view Alien as the primary story, and Prometheus and Covenant as religious texts, their crazy, nonsensical tone makes a little more sense. Which is why robot Michael Fassbender made out with another robot Fassbender. Exactly like in the Bible.

The Star Wars Prequels Are Far Better When You Realize The Jedi Are Supposed To Suck

We’ve certainly said some harsh things about the Star Wars prequel trilogy in the past, most of which involved the words “steaming” and “pile.” But you know what? Let’s go in a different direction for a moment and *takes a moment to regain composure* … defend the prequels.

We all know the trilogy’s flaws — the movies feel like a high school drama class was inexplicably green-screened into Narnia. Part of the reason we all may have bristled at Episode I is that the Jedi we were so excited to finally see in action were kind of awful. They were dull, judgy douchebags, pretty much the intergalactic equivalent of the Shark Tank investors.

Lucasfilm“A Padawan without even one ponytail? Get this filth out of our sight.”

But the story makes a little more sense when you realize that the Jedi are supposed to be flawed. It’s an organization about to topple for a good reason. As Professor Joshua Sikora points out in a documentary all about defending the prequels, the biggest character arcs in the trilogy belong to Yoda and Obi-Wan, and you might not have even noticed it.

In The Phantom Menace, Qui-Gon whisks Anakin away from his home in Tatooine and his single mom, who has to stay behind and remain a slave. Quite messed up stuff for a series that was once about partying with teddy bears.

Lucasfilm

Lucasfilm“Sorry, your mom can’t come to our massive Jedi temple with us. We already have a cleaning person, you see.”

At first, it seems like some crazy anomaly, as if Qui-Gon is the black sheep of the Jedi who keeps luring small children away from their homes … until we realize that this is what the Jedi do. Yanking kids away from families is business as usual for them. That way, they can train the little tykes free of the distractions of love or home-cooked meals or rage-fueled political conversations.

LucasfilmEveryone who knew this was going on and didn’t call Coruscant CPS is a monster.

In case you didn’t notice, this doesn’t go well. The Jedi’s sloppy methods end up creating Space Hitler, and most of them get murdered. Here’s the pivotal moment: At the end of Revenge Of The Sith, Luke and Leia are born. They’re the twin offspring of the Galaxy’s most midichlorian-filled individual. If anyone could be trained, it’s these two. But Yoda and Obi-Wan realize they totally fucked up. So in the end, to balance things out and make things right, they do the opposite of what they did in Episode I: They return a child to Tatooine.

Lucasfilm

Lucasfilm“Watch over him you must, without leaving his side. Unless a spinoff prequel otherwise requires.”

The final shots of the movie show us that the best place for a child is with a loving family … as opposed to, you know, space wizard cults. George Lucas himself has adopted three kids, so the message of prequels is ultimately a personal one. Of course, the twin who ended up at a desolate dirt farm instead of a goddamn royal palace kind of got the short end of the stick.

Lucasfilm

LucasfilmDon’t worry, all the parental figures ended up dead, so it evens out.

Showgirls Is Filled With Mind-Boggling Symbolism

One of the most maligned movies of all time, the erotic drama Showgirls stars Elizabeth Berkley from Saved By The Bell and co-stars the death of every Saved By The Bell fan’s childhood innocence.

United ArtistsThe song she strips to was originally “I’m So Excited.”

But did Showgirls get an unfairly bad rap? At least one person thinks so. Critic Adam Nayman wrote a whole book about how underrated Showgirls is, and he makes some damn good points. For one thing, the sex-filled movie is also full of thematically consistent references to mirrors and doubles, as if Alfred Hitchcock got a gig at Cinemax.

When we first meet our protagonist Nomi, we immediately see that she aspires to become the lead dancer, Cristal, played by Gina Gershon. Nomi’s quest to become a different person is played out in the movie’s mirroring theme. When she first sees Cristal dance, she imitates her movements from the audience.

United Artists

The movie is also full of literal mirrors. Whole conversations occur during which people are looking at each other’s reflections:

United Artists

United ArtistsLooking at themselves in the mirror was a little more challenging, though.

The movie is also a mirror of itself, opening with Nomi hitchhiking into Vegas and ending with her leaving. She even gets picked up by the same guy:

United Artists

United ArtistsHe left town because he didn’t find the lost buttons to his shirt.