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boshoe · 3 years

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Problematically Desperate

Bo Burnham x Female Reader

18+ Only.

Disclaimer: For all intents and purposes Bo is a character in this work. I know people are iffy about writing FF about real people... what can I say. I'm problematic (she's a problem)

warnings: Smut, porn without plot, Fem reader, daddy k*nk (just as a nickname NOT dd/lg) , choking, sir k*nk, degrading k*nk, praise k*nk (?), fingering, oral (female receiving), vaginal sex. Dom!Bo (Bo is a switch so his dominance waivers), Possesive!Bo.

(This is what I imagine Bo to look like in this)

It was early afternoon when you were sitting at the kitchen table scrolling through Instagram and sipping on your coffee. The back door was open and you could hear the faint sound of your boyfriend playing music in the studio in your back yard. You knew better than to bother him because he was working on his new project. You tried to listen in and hear the words Bo was singing but you could only make out the pitch of his voice.

Suddenly the music stopped and you heard the door to the studio swing open. You peered out into the yard to see Bo making long strides through the grass. He was barefoot; you noticed as he stepped onto the deck.

“Can you come listen to this song I’m working on?” He asked from his place outside the screen door. His dark blonde hair was disheveled from him probably running his hand through it a hundred times. Nervous tick.

You tried to contain your surprise at his question. He wanted you to hear a song he was writing for his new special? He had been working on it for months and only ever asked for privacy while he wrote.

“You want me to hear it? In the studio? You want me to come listen to you play?” You shot out each question in befuddled, quick succession

Bo stifled a chuckle at your reaction “Yes, I’ve played it so many times I hate it and I need you to tell me if it sucks as bad as I’m afraid it does.”

“O-oh okay.” You said trying to contain your excitement as you hopped to your feet and pulled the screen door open.

Bo held out his hand to you and you took it as you shut the screen door behind you. You began walking through the grass with him.

When you approached the open door of the studio you saw equipment and cords littering the floor making the entire room look cluttered. You walked in the doorway and were careful to step over the equipment Bo had scattered everywhere. His hand slipped from yours as he went to sit at the keyboard he had set up.

“Okay.” Bo sighed. More to himself than you. He attempted to straighten out his posture to get into character. His fingers started working the keyboard and your ears were filled with a synth-pop sound rather than the classic piano sound Bo often used.

He began singing a song about being held accountable for his problematic behavior in the past. The song was dripping with a satirical tone as he asked God to forgive him. You listened intently and were thoroughly enjoying hearing him share this early version of the song with you but a short way into it Bo made a sound that instantly sent a hot feeling to your core.

He had moaned…loudly. And it wasn’t meant to be taken the way you took it but to be candid, you and Bo hadn’t had sex in weeks because of Bo’s dedication to working on his project, it just hadn’t come up. So the sound he made was more than enough to turn you on.

Immediately after he made the sound you had let out a startled “Oh my god.” It wasn’t loud but he had heard you, made obvious by the fact that he abruptly stopped playing.

Bo absolutely hated being interrupted when performing and he usually responded with purposely over-exaggerated anger and sarcasm to hecklers. But this wasn’t a gig and you weren’t a rude stranger yelling something at him.

When he stopped playing he looked up at you and his eyes changed when he saw you staring back at him, your pupils were blown and your thighs pressed tightly together as you tried to suppress the throbbing at your core. (just from hearing him moan in a satirical comedy song. You almost felt embarrassed for being so desperate)

A smirk played on his lips as realization hit him and his blue eyes darkened at the sight of you.

“Are you done now?” He asked referring to your outburst.

“I—uh— mhm I didn’t mean to interrupt you.” You stammered out, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Oh, but you did. And you know how I hate that.” He scolded.

Your heart was racing and it felt like it was going to burst when you realized Bo was using your interruption as the perfect opportunity to switch into the dominant role he sometimes played when you two were intimate.

“I’m sorry.” You said softly but instantly realized your mistake.

“What was that?” He asked as he pushed the keyboard gently to the side, out of the way.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” You corrected yourself.

“That’s better, come here.” He beckoned to you as he stayed sat in his chair.

You obliged and stood from your chair to meet him at his. He was so much taller than you that even sitting he was meeting your gaze straight on. His blue eyes looked hungry as he took in your figure. Once you were standing before him, biting your bottom lip, he motioned to his lap and ordered “Sit.”

You climbed on top of his lap to straddle him and the mere contact on your core had you lightheaded. You let out a desperate whimper from your place on his lap.

“That really did it for you didn’t it? Look at you, you’re a mess.” He said with pity in his voice and an arrogant smile playing on his lips.

“I’m sorry— I just— I can’t help it.” You breathed leaning forward to rest your head in the crook of his neck. His natural smell filled your nose and it was only further intoxicating you. His large hands came up to squeeze your hips and you moaned. You wanted to feel him inside of you so badly.

“I bet…” He mused “if I put my fingers inside of you right now you’d be fucking soaked.” He taunted in your ear.

You let out a broken moan at his words and the feeling of his breath on the shell of your ear.

“Let’s test that theory, hm?”

“Yes please, Sir please.” You begged

“Such a good little whore, asking so nicely.” He praised as his right hand came down to hook under your lounge shorts and graze over your clothed core.

“So wet for me.” He confirmed without even having to move your panties out of the way. You were soaked through the cotton material of your underwear. He gave you a few light strokes over your clothed clit to tease you. You were desperate for skin-to-skin contact and you were becoming a whimpering, quivering mess in his lap.

Being too desperate himself to tease you for much longer he hooked his index finger onto your panties to pull them to the side and run two fingers along your slick folds. You moaned loudly and bucked your hips into his fingers.

“Desperate slut.” He panted, clearly turned on by your reaction to him barely touching you.

“Only for me. You’re mine aren’t you?” He asked breathlessly in your ear.

“Yes, Sir. Only yours forever.” You started leaving open-mouthed kisses on his neck and he bucked his hips into you and let out a moan that had your pussy throbbing. He sunk two fingers into you curling and uncurling them before he started a brutal pace, shoving them in and out of you, hitting your g-spot immediately because of the position you were in on his lap.

“Ahhh, oh my god!” You moaned throwing your head back in ecstasy. Bo took the opportunity to lean forward and attach his lips to your neck. He sucked harshly at your sweet spot under your jaw. His fingers slowed their pace and he pulled them out of you to start rubbing small circles on your clit. The only sounds in the room were your lewd moans, Bo’s panting the wet sound your cunt was making as he fingered you.

“Fuck, Bo, that feels so good.” You whimpered.

“Yeah? are you gonna come for me, baby?” He asked. His left hand leaving your hip to slip under your t-shirt and palm your breast through your lace bra.

“Mhm. Want you to fuck me so hard.” You whined with your eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

“Not until you come for me.” He breathed.

Your climax was rapidly approaching as his fingers delicately worked your clit. You tilted your head forward to look straight on and saw that Bo was watching you. He was completely mesmerized by you and the blue of his iris was being swallowed by his pupils, blown out with lust. You crashed your lips to his. He moaned into your mouth and you took the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth. He kept his pace on your clit as you kissed desperately, all teeth and tongue, and you were moaning into his mouth as your orgasm approached.

“Come, you fucking slut.” He ordered in between kisses. Bo knew his words would send you over the edge and he was right, you were practically screaming and convulsing on top of him as you came.

“Good girl.” He cooed as you came down from your high, still slightly shaking.

You leaned forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders and neck, you let your eyes fall closed with the exhaustion from coming so hard.

“Please fuck me.” You breathed.

Bo didn’t say a word, instead, he hooked his forearms under your thighs and easily stood up from his chair with you in his arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist to cling to him as he walked over to the red couch in the corner of the studio.

The couch was covered in sound equipment and a spare keyboard but Bo leaned over with you still clinging to him to push everything to the floor with one swipe of his arm. Everything that was on the couch went clambering to the floor with a crash and in perfect contrast, he set you gently down onto it. Your heart hitched in your throat when you realized how desperate Bo must be for you to show no care to his expensive equipment like that. He wanted you so badly.

Bo was kneeling on the floor in front of the couch where you sat when he started to tug at your shorts and underwear in an attempt to pull them down your thighs.

“Off.” He growled

You lifted yourself off the couch slightly to aid him and before you knew it he was tossing your shorts and panties across the room. You pulled your shirt off and over your head quickly. Leaving you in nothing but a lace bra.

Bo grabbed your thighs pulling you towards the edge of the couch in one fluid motion and you gasped at the speed at which he moved you. He started peppering kisses on the inside of your thighs.

“Bo” You whimpered “I already came, please.” you begged as his kisses were getting closer and closer to your dripping core.

Bo’s dark eyes shot open to make eye contact with you.

“I need to taste you.” He said desperately, all of his dominance melting away.

“I’m so sensitive, Bo, I don’t know if-“

“I’ll be gentle, Angel. I promise.” and your head felt light at the nickname.

You nodded fiercely, the look of his big blue eyes practically begging you making you feel like you could definitely come again.

With your approving nod, Bo ran his tongue along your already soaked pussy and you let out a squeal.

“Fuck.” He moaned into you and his tongue starting lapping at your clit.

“Oh my god, Bo! fuck!” You yelped

“Does it feel good, baby? Do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t stop! Don’t stop please!” You moaned as you threw your head back onto the couch cushion. You brought your legs up to rest on his shoulders and that seemed to turn him on even more because his hands came to grip your thighs harshly and he moaned into you.

“Fuck, baby, you taste so good” He groaned.

Your hands came down to tangle in his dark blonde locks and you let out a whimper in response.

His tongue was doing sinful things. He was gently sucking and licking your clit, then he would bring his tongue down to your entrance and stick it inside of you, then he’d go back to gently licking your clit, being mindful that you were extra sensitive.

You looked down at him, his 6’5 (and a half) stature crouched down on his knees in front of the couch, bent over with his head between your thighs. The sight of him was driving you positively mad. His hair was entangled in your fingers and you began to tug him impossibly closer to your core as your second orgasm approached. You were writhing and squealing on the couch and his hands gripped your thighs harder as he attempted to hold you in place.

“Bo! BO! Oh fuck!” You squealed.

“mmm come for me again, Princess.” He breathed, continuing his work on your clit.

“Bo I’m gonna come!” You whined. You threw your head back and screwed your eyes shut as your release approached. More intense than the last one your head started to buzz as you bucked your hips into his face desperately chasing your climax. You were screaming profanities and sweet bliss washed over you as your body spasmed and ultimately relaxed in Bo’s grip.

Bo placed a gentle kiss on your clit and removed your legs from his shoulders so your feet lay flat on the floor. Your eyes remained closed but you heard him straighten up and heard the unmistakable sound of him undoing his belt.

Your core tightened and you bit your bottom lip in anticipation. You nearly whimpered when you heard the zipper to his jeans being undone.

You heard bo shimmying out of his pants and they hit the floor with a quiet thud.

Your eyes opened and your head lifted to look at Bo. Towering above you, naked from the waist down pumping his hard length with his right hand slowly. Looking at you like he was going to devour you.

You whined at the sight “Fuck me, Sir, please.”

“Turn over, ass in the air.” He demanded

You quickly obliged, getting on your knees on the couch and arching your back so your dripping cunt was on full display. You rested your arms on the top of the couch to steady yourself for what was to come.

Bo crawled over you, placing both of his knees outside yours on the sofa and he lined up his aching cock with your entrance. You were soaked with his saliva and your own cum so he was going to slide in easily but he decided to slowly insert the head of his large cock, earning a gasp from you. He pulled out and went back to just insert the head again, torturing you.

“For God's sake just fuck me!” You roared.

“Excuse me?” he pulled out all the way again and his large hand came around to wrap around your throat. “That’s not how my good little slut is supposed to behave.” He tutted as he applied pressure to the outside of your neck with his fingers.

“I’m sorry, sir.” You croaked “I’m so sorry please fuck me!” You cried. “I need your cock in me so bad it hurts. Please please I need it! I- ” You rambled and Bo brought his hand from your throat to stick his fingers in your mouth to silence you.

You began sucking his index and middle finger immediately without question and a deep moan escaped his throat from behind you.

“That’s better. Good girl” He praised and you felt the head of his cock prod at your entrance again.

Without any warning, he slammed into you. His entire length filling you to the brim. You let out a sharp cry and his fingers, dripping with your spit, fell from your mouth.

“Fuuuuuckk.” Bo growled “You’re so tight, baby. Feel so fucking good for me.” He praised and he pulled his hips back only to snap them back and fill you up again. Tears filled your eyes and as his massive length stretched you out but it hurt in such a pleasurable way. Something about him filling you up when you’d just come was mind-numbly hot.

“Ahhh! Oh my god!” You yelped as he began thrusting in and out of you. His large hands came to grip your hips, pulling you back and slamming you down on his dick.

“You make me so happy.” He breathed “Always so eager to let me fuck your tight little cunt.” He bent over to leave kisses on your spine as he pounded into you at a steady pace. “You’re such a good little whore for me.” He panted “Aren’t you?”

“Yes! I just want to make you feel good, Sir.” You whined

“You always make me feel so good, Princess.” Bo cooed.

He slowed his pace and was now sliding in and out of you slowly, rolling his hips into you in an attempt to keep himself from coming too fast.

A devious smirk he couldn’t see played on your lips as you flexed your pelvic muscles and squeezed him. You knew it would be hard for him not to cum with you squeezing him.

“Fuck, baby. Don’t- Don’t do that you’re gonna make me cum.” He said seriously, his dominant facade slipping. He had completely stopped his movement to gain some composure.

“Don’t do what?” You asked with mock innocence, squeezing him again.

“Shit, agh! That!” He yelped and doubled over his bare chest meeting your back. when had he taken his shirt off?

“But I can’t stop if I want you to fill me with cum.” You said with faux concern.

Bo fell silent for a second. Screwing his eyes shut to keep himself from blowing his load into you right then and there just from the sentence you spoke. He gained some composure and spoke:

“Oh yeah?” He breathed into your ear “You want Daddy to fill you up?” He asked as he started rocking his hips into you quickly. He wrapped his arms around your waist to hold you close as his hips bucked into yours. The slapping noise of his front hitting your ass filling the room along with his rough panting.

You were a bit taken aback by him referring to himself as 'Daddy' because he hadn’t done it before. But, you had secretly hoped to slip the nickname in one day during sex so you were more than happy to play along.

“Yes, Daddyyy please! fill me with cum!” You whined loudly, making sure to emphasize his new pet name.

“Oh Jesus fuck.” He growled “So fucking hot.” he pounded into you faster at the sound of you calling him Daddy.

“That’s what you were made for huh, Slut? to be filled with cum?” He growled and his thrusts became sloppy and desperate as he chased his release.

“Yes, Daddy that’s all I’m good for, to be fucked and filled by you, only you!”

“That’s right, my little cum-slut, you’re mine.” He moaned snapping his hips into you. “I’m gonna cum, baby” He whined

He gave a few more deep thrusts and he came. His dick twitching a sending his hot release deep inside you.

“Fucking hell” he panted laying himself onto your back once more. His cock still inside of you. you both stayed there for a minute, catching your breath.

“So, uh, You ready to hear the rest of the song?” He asked.

You both immediately burst out laughing.

#bo burnham smut #bo burnham x reader #bo burnham x reader smut #bo burnham fanfic #tell me how it is on anon or something #i havent written anything in a long time so sorry its rusty #bo's hoes #bo burnham imagine #bo burnham self insert #my writing

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mcmansionhell · 5 years

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50 States of McMansion Hell: Fairfax and Loudoun County, Virginia

Howdy folks! This post has been months in the making. Scouring the hell that is the McMansion Trenches of Virginia for only the best (worst) houses for your viewing pleasure generated some truly awful contenders. Of all the counties in Virginia, it was the wealthiest DC suburban counties of Fairfax and Loudoun that delivered. I won’t leave you hanging longer than I already have, so without further ado, the countdown:

#10: The Trellis Terror (Loudoun County)

The scrunched up piles of roof and narrow windows are a casualty of trying to squeeze the biggest possible house complete with not one but two garages into the smallest imaginable lot. The second story over-the-garage trellis aims to invoke the Tuscan countryside, but ends up looking like a bad strip mall Olive Garden instead.

#9: Tricorn Turret (Loudoun County)

The consistency of cladding materials and window shapes make this house more well put-together than most McMansions. However it made the list for obvious reasons: a substantial and precipitous roofline, a rare triple turret dormer assembly, and that bizarre skeletal stone porch thing transform this house from country estate to ridiculous Hummer house.

#8: Fort Void (Loudoun County)

Usually the problem of McMansions is too many large windows, in this case it’s too many small windows, all of them different from one another as if this house was just a front for the Pella Window showroom. The monotonous brick swallows the windows giving the house a fortress-y aura. The juxtaposition of pastoral rolling farmland with an equally ugly house right next door is particularly choice.

#7: Mt. Nub’s Revenge (Loudoun County)

This house is a perfect example of how, even when they try really really hard, McMansions are incapable of symmetry. The more you look at this house the more “spot the difference” elements you find: the weird short colonnade vs the five-bay picture window; the length of the two wings, the roofline of the right wing is for some reason broken up because God is dead. And then there’s that nub.

#6: Sticker Shock (Loudoun County)

This robust residence is absolutely chaotic. No two gables are the same. Stone is applied liberally and without logical consistency. Gutters trail down columns and crevices. Every window antagonizes its neighbor. The only thing over which any control has been exerted is nature itself, repressed and dominated by a monocultural expanse of grass. Normally I am not so blunt, but I will be today: I hate this house.

#5: Chonky Corinthian

There is a certain type of house that is very popular in Fairfax County. It consists of a hulking range of hipped roofs punctured by a central (?) portico supported by columns that can only be described as thicc. This is one of these houses. The people who built this house could not decide when they were done building it. One can only assume that the myriad plans for this house were saved with file names like “House″ “House 2″ “House 2 final” “House 2 final final” “House 2 FINAL FINAL FOR REAL THIS TIME”

#4: Mad Hatter (Fairfax County)

First of all, this home is way too long. It just keeps going. It’s like six different houses stitched together. Roofs begin and end. Porches come and go. Two stories somehow transform into one. By the time the eye reaches the front entrance, one is already exhausted. Finally, whoever decided to take the phrase “nesting gables” and apply it in this way deserves a trial at the Hague.

#3: Tragic “Tudor” (Fairfax County)

This is the house equivalent of an identity crisis. Elements of French, English, and Donald Trump commingle to produce a truly formidable facade. All of the landscaping choices in this post are sad, but this house takes the cake for most depressing scenery, and not just because it was photographed in winter. Stubby shrubs appear to be gasping for breath, what trees exist are mere, unstable sticks; beside the pergola, a fallen cypress.

#2: Foaming at the Mouth (Fairfax County)

This is a classic McMansion: it does its best to look dignified and imposing and instead appears cartoonish and cheap. Every element of this house except perhaps the wooden door is derived from petroleum products. The massive transom screams “climate denialism.” The grand entrance is overdone and top-heavy to the point of parody. In short: I hope this house melts.

#1: Brick Behemoth

If you combine all of the insipid elements of the other houses: mismatched windows; massive, chaotic rooflines; weird asphalt donut landscaping; pompous entrances, and tacked on masses; you’d get this house. The more one looks at this house the more upsetting it becomes. The turrets don’t match. The roofline is truly mountainous. The windows are either too small or too big for the walls they are housed in. The carhole is especially car hole-y. What sends this one over the top is its surroundings: lush trees and clear skies that have been desecrated in order to build absolute garbage. At least it doesn’t have shutters.

Well, that’s it for Virginia! Stay tuned for another installment of “The Brutalism Post” - this time about what Brutalism actually is.

If you like this post, and want to see more like it, consider supporting me on Patreon!

There is a whole new slate of Patreon rewards, including Good House of the Week, Crowdcast streaming, and bonus essays!

Not into recurring donations or bonus content? Consider the tip jar! Or, Check out the McMansion Hell Store! Proceeds from the store help protect great buildings from the wrecking ball.

Copyright Disclaimer: All photographs are used in this post under fair use for the purposes of education, satire, and parody, consistent with 17 USC §107. Manipulated photos are considered derivative work and are Copyright © 2019 McMansion Hell. Please email [email protected] before using these images on another site. (am v chill about this)

#architecture #design #mcmansions #mcmansion hell #virginia #ugly houses #bad architecture #suburbs

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lookforthefuture49 · 2 years

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Tales from the Multiverse

Prologue

Is this.... ANOTHER FIC? ANOTHER? Ooo you BETTER believe it is! This was cowritten/created with @pinkyshere !!!!!!! :))

This will be posted on Archive Of Our Own under the username DoubleKKookie and on Wattpad (later) under the username The_Trench_Again. I hope you somehow enjoy.

DISCLAIMER: THIS FANFICTION LITERALLY HAS ACTUAL LIVING HUMANS IN IT. THIS FANFICTION IS SATIRE AND IS NOT MADE TO SLANDER THEM. WE LIKE THESE HUMANS. ALSO, ONCE AGAIN, THIS IS A SATIRE, USUALLY POORLY WRITTEN FANFICTION MADE FOR THE PURPOSES OF HAVING FUN. THERE WILL BE JOKE SHIPS IN THE FUTURE. YOU WILL NOTICE NONE OF THE ACTUAL LIVING HUMANS WILL BE SHIPPED WITH ANYONE AT ALL UNLIKE THE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS. SHIPPING REAL PEOPLE IS NOT OK. WE DO NOT SHIP REAL PEOPLE. THERE WILL BE NO REAL PEOPLE SHIPS, AND THIS STORY IS NEVER MEANT TO BE INTERPRETED THAT WAY. ALSO NOT MEANT TO SLANDER ANYONE. Gordon Ramsay is in this chapter and I am not trying to be rude to him in any way don't take it like that. This is a joke fic.

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Tales From The Multiverse

Prologue: The Beginnings of a Nightmare

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The night's wind whistled, like the very flute the boy was now holding. Red was once a young boy, once 11, once just starting that journey out into the world. Now, however, he stood in the Sinnoh region with Blue, a grown man, the Azure Flute in hand. A week ago, Red noticed something strange- Pokemon, even some of his own, were beginning to act up. They were gathering, they were doing something. They were…

They were trying to tear open the universe.

Such a strange observation, and some days he felt crazy, but this had to be what they were doing. It was nearly impossible to describe their odd actions, but they were trying to reach something, someone, maybe an eldritch monstrosity of a Pokémon luring them from universes away. Whatever it was, Red needed to stop them before they did any more damage to what was literally the fabric of the universe, and he only knew one being which would have the answers he seeks. Arceus, the god of all Pokemon. All of them. Whatever was luring this world's Pokemon to it was likely also a Pokemon, and thus Arceus should be able to stop it. Should.

So he lifted the Azure Flute to his mouth, the tune he needed to play already memorized. Blue stood by his side, a look of near anguish on his face, as Red began to play the song needed.

As the final note sounded, a large fleet of stairs appeared in front of them, nearly translucent. Blue wasn't as good with high altitudes as Red was, and they were already fairly high up, so Red walked the steps alone. Step by step, he got higher, and closer to the one he needed. When Red made it to the top, before him stood the one known as Arceus. Really, in front of him, was the creator of Pokemon.

No words needed to be exchanged immediately, for as soon as it was summoned and saw a human upon it's presence, Arceus knew something was amiss. A tear in the fabric of reality, it seemed. This would not bode well for this planet.

"I know what you must do, boy." Arceus' voice boomed, seemingly from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Red only tilted his head in reply to Arceus' statement, so the Pokemon continued.

"A being known as The Nothing has begun making an infiltration attempt in this universe and in hundreds of others. You need to stop it. It will rip apart the multiverse if you do not act."

The wind whistled once more, but this time, Red shivered.

…

A loud, sudden knock resounded on his door. Michael very nearly jumped before picking himself up off the couch and away from his obsessive marathon of The Immortal and The Restless. Usually a visit from Henry would be relatively normal, and he was assuming it was Henry at his door, but it was 2 AM currently and Michael didn't want to make another attempt at trying to sleep because every time he did in this dilapidated state, he found himself experiencing horribly vivid nightmares, and that was NOT something he was willing to go through every night. As he suspected, it was Henry who had knocked, and he looked horrified. And also exhausted, but more scared if anything. Michael quickly unlocked the door and let him in.

"Michael, I'm so very sorry to bother you right now but I've found something horrible." He said, out of breath and shaking.

"It's fine, I don't sleep and I definitely don't care, so what is it? You look terrified."

"It's-"

He did not finish, for something reached for Henry and grabbed him. Large… dark… shadowy…

Shapeless.

The creature just stared at the two, and Michael wasn't sure if it was perplexed or curious, or really anything. He couldn't read the emotions of such a creature. By the way,

"Since when did weird giant shadow creatures exist?!" Michael shouted, probably too loud, as it fully allowed itself into his house, still holding Henry. The creature said nothing, but lurched forward to get a better look at Michael.

"Uncle Henry, is this thing what you were trying to tell me about?"

"Yes," the man sputtered out in reply.

The shadow creature stared for a little longer before it raced out the door with Henry in tow. Before Michael could do anything, the shadow and Henry were gone.

…

The building bustled with life. He walked across the tiled floors of the main restaurant and towards the kitchen.

"You're not allowed to be ba-" an employee began, but she stopped dead in her tracks when she realized who was standing in front of him.

"O-oh! Mr. Ramsay! I di-di-didn't kn-ow you'd be here today!" She yelped, before stepping out of the way and letting the one and only Gordon Ramsay into the main kitchen. He stepped in, and immediately began shouting about every detail.

"WHAT IS THIS??? WHY IS THERE A SLIGHT SPECK OF MOLD IN THE BOTTOM LEFT CORNER OF THE KITCHEN? WHY DO YOU HOLD STUFF THAT NEEDS TO BE FROZEN IN A FREEZER? WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING? YOU CALL THIS FOOD???!!!!" He shouts, scrambling around the kitchen and attempting to fix things before exiting like he was never there.

…

Red walked back down the steps and towards Blue, shaking violently. He wasn't entirely sure why, but something had shaken him to the core. Blue noticed the unusual behavior and raced up to him.

"Dude! Why are you shivering?" He whimpered, absolute terror in his eyes. Red barely shrugged before beginning to make the trek towards the first set of stairs, so they could get back to a normal altitude and pretend that the god of Pokemon didn't just tell Red to save the multiverse. However, as he hobbled towards the stairs, he collapsed into the layer of rock and snow beneath his feet.

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This exists now. If you gots a problem or a tag you need added let me know. Please remember this is satire and meant all in good fun!

#pokemon #pokémon #trainer red #trainer blue #gordon ramsay #fnaf #five nights at freddy’s #michael afton #henry emily #weird shadow things oh my :)))#tis but a prologue #fanfiction

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womanstudiesforwomen · 3 years

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Summary of V. Solanas’ SCUM manifesto

By @womanstudiesforwomen

Disclaimer: this is a section-by-section summary of the manifesto. It is not a substitute for reading it oneself and forming one’s own opinion, it is merely a tool to aid in the organising of the ideas represented.

Section: summary of the statement made in the section

Opening : it is the responsibility of women (humans of the female sex) to “overthrow the government, eliminate the money system, institute complete automation and destroy the male sex”.

Several paragraphs of what appears to be satire: reversing the script of many male philosophers who posed that women were inferior to men in make and mind, Solanas poses that it is instead men who are inferior to women in make and mind.

War: men resort to violence to prove their worth.

Niceness, Politeness, and ‘Dignity’: to conceal the feelings of self-hatred and contempt created by their poor self-worth, men have devised a social code which prioritizes emotionlessness and the absence of opinion (objectivity).

Money, Marriage and Prostitution, Work and Prevention of an Automated Society: there are only six reasons for there to be a money system, and they are all generated by men. Essentially, money buys (1) companionship, and gives men (2) purpose (usefulness), (3) power and control, (4) a substitute for expressing love and affection, and (5) an “eternal, never-ending goal” as well as (6) a basis for fatherhood.

Fatherhood and Mental Illness (fear, cowardice, timidity, humility, insecurity, passivity): through emotional distance and frequent absence, the father becomes a figure from which children seek approval. Since men disapprove of emotions and opinions, children are trained into passivity. Particularly, young girls become Daddy’s Girl, that is, girls who praise their fathers and are unwilling to examine their flaws (and by extension, those of all men).

Suppression of Individuality, Animalism (domesticity and motherhood), and Functionalism: men are utterly dependent upon mothers, turning every woman they encounter, even their own daughters, into substitute mothers. For this reason, men seek to keep women interchangeable in function with every over female.

Prevention of Privacy: men do not care for women’s privacy and, in fact, seek to invade it at all times. Indeed, the familial structure is characterized by the constant “(violation of) the females’ rights, privacy and sanity.”

Isolation, Suburbs, and Prevention of Community: through keeping society divided in family units, men keep women isolated from the rest of civilization. They fear sharing women, their favourite commodity.

Conformity: men define themselves through a strict set of rules which they are afraid to cross when seeking individuality. Thus, they do their best to establish themselves as a Man, and define women as the opposite.

Authority and Government: wanting guides (mothers) in their lives, men put in place authorities. But since they refuse to accept their dependence upon women, men make all the authorities male.

Philosophy, Religion, and Morality Based on Sex: in order to give their lives meaning, men invent philosophy and religion. Men use religion as a tool to “keep women tied to men” and to “try to expiate the guilt and shame (they feel)… at being male”. On the other hand, male philosophy only represents the perspective and realities of men, not those of women too as they like to believe.

Prejudice (racial, ethnic, religious, etc) : the choosing of scapegoats by men creates a hierarchy where the men on top have the greatest access to women.

Competition, Prestige, Status, Formal Education, Ignorance and Social and Economic Classes: the men who have these appear to have the greatest worth, and they may keep women company because women are kept ignorant and unable to detect the incompetence of men. Additionally, men favour the status quo and only ever upend it if they want to be on top.

Prevention of Conversation: “Male ‘intellectual conversation’ is a strained compulsive attempt to impress the female”. Daddy’s Girl was taught to pander to men and so she keeps her conversational skills on the same level.

Prevention of Friendship (Love): since contempt is rife in society because of men’s imposition of rules which define men and women, friendship cannot exist in society, and neither can love, of which friendship is the basis. Men offer two substitutes: ‘Great Art’ and ‘Culture’ and Sexuality.

‘Great Art’ and ‘Culture’: male art and culture are believed to be the epitome of great thinking. Their greatness cannot be contested: their appreciation is a mark of superior thinking.

Sexuality: when sex is sacred, it reinforces women’s attachment to men. When women banalize sex, they stop associating it with male holiness.

Boredom: society as engineered by men for men is utterly boring because men themselves are boring.

Secrecy, Censorship, Suppression of Knowledge and Ideas, and Exposes: to keep their feelings of worthlessness hidden and to maintain their dominance in society, men censor ‘dirty’ words, suppress anything which reveals their weakness, and expose others as Others to divert attention away from themselves.

Distrust: since men lie about their self-worth all the time, they distrust others and think them to lie as well.

Ugliness: the results of men’s decorating skills are ugly.

Hatred and Violence: violence allows men to express their hate and gives them “a little sexual thrill”.

Disease and Death: the cures to aging and death are findable, but male institutions won’t be able to find them due to (1) the need to prove one’s Manliness, (2) the exclusivity of education, (3) the guarding of knowledge, (4) the lack of female scientists, (5) the lack of automated sorting of data, (6) the fact that the institutions are money-driven, (7) that men like death, and (8) that money-bias means the hiring of male-superiority thinkers.

Closing paragraphs: men are eliminating themselves through a variety of means. More and more men are encouraging women so that men can claim as their own the achievements of women. Eventually, men are going to decide that women are not necessary for reproduction. SCUM proposes women take control of the country through criminal disobedience (rather than civil disobedience) whilst never being a nuisance to the necessary institutions of society (ex: hospitals); that the money system be eliminated and automation occurs, both of which would negate the need for a government. During the takeover, SCUM suggests women kill the men who do not adhere to SCUM’s principles.

#scum manifesto #valerie solanas #disclaimer: we do not necessarily agree with the content of the post #disclaimer: we do not endorse violence #summary

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weirdochick56 · 4 years

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Mr. Evans II- Chris Evans AU Chapter Two

Teacher!Chris Evans x Student!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, heartbreak, angst, MILD SMUT, a little bit of infidelity

Disclaimers: I don’t condone relationships of this kind, this is for entertainment purposes only.

Word Count: 3, 509 words

Read Chapter One here!!

***

(Gif isn’t mine!)

He’s looking at you and you’re looking at him and all you can think is god, his voice is sexy.

Your dad looks between you two, brows raised.

“You two know eachother?” He asks, bewildered.

You barely hear him, too taken by Mr. Evans’ intense aqua gaze on you and how good that nickname still sounded and looked coming out of those oh-so kissable lips.

“Hey, Chr-Mr. Evans,” you correct yourself in a soft whisper, unable to conjure much else in response.

His name felt so unfamiliar in your own mouth, and yet, your tongue welcomed it with such vigor, wrapping around each syllable, each sound like it’d never get to do so again.

You finally tear your eyes away from his, turning to your dad. “Mr. Evans was my English teacher.”

He beams, pleased beyond your comprehension. “What a small world we live in! Funny how I’m marrying your teacher’s aunt isn’t it?”

You can’t help it when your brows raise to your hairline. “His aunt?”

Ah, so that’s where the familiarity in the eyes came from...

You can see it now, their similar features.

Kennedy interjects, gripping your father’s arm with a grin. “Yeah. Chris’ mom is my sister. He’s been really great through all of this, too. He even helped repaint the house.”

At this, your stomach falls. Your face goes stone hard as you fight the urge to turn your gaze to him because you knew if you did you would explode. Betrayal burns low in your belly and you hold back the impulse to lash out on Mr. Evans, clenching your fists.

Instead, you look at your dad with an icy stare. “Are you fucking kidding me, dad?”

His face falls, the color draining. “Y/n, please not here.”

But you don’t care. Your heart aches and your stomach churns with anger. Seeing him move on and try to repaint over your mother’s memory- this wasn’t how you expected it to go. You wanted him to be happy, yes, but not if it meant he’d be erasing everything about your mother and her legacy. Everything but that.

But what really bothered you was that Mr. Evans, of all people, had helped do such a thing. Just thinking about how he had helped erase your mother’s memory made you want to barf. Now that was a sting you weren’t quite sure you could ever recover from.

You step up to your father, chin held high. “With all due respect, father, I will talk my mind wherever and whenever I damn well please. As far as I’m concerned, you are not removing her entirely from our lives like she never even existed.” You smirk. “Luckily, I’m here now. And I’m gonna be your daily goddamn reminder of that.”

“Y/n can you please-“ your father grips your arm in his but you feel utterly repugnance for his touch right now.

“No, dad!” You hiss, ripping your arm from his touch. “She loved this house, and you knew that! Why would you let her-” you point aggressively at Kennedy. “Come in and change our house. My house. Mom's house?!” Without realizing tears have trickled done your cheeks. Of anger or hurt, you don’t know.

You wipe at them furiously. Fuck, you hated this and you were not planning on crying on your first day here. Pathetic little girl.

Despite your blurry vision, you manage to preserve your snark, looking around at you. “Congrats on the engagement, guys,” you spit disgracefully before your gaze lands on Mr. Evans who watches you with an unreadable expression. That fucking wall again.

You just wish you could read him like one of his books but that wall- it was damn near unpenetrable.

“You know what? Screw this. I’m jetlagged and quite frankly your faces are boring. I’m headed to bed.” You look at your father and Kennedy, tone satirically lazy. “My room is still there, right?”

Your father clenches his jaw, clearly wanting to say something else before Kennedy squeezes his arm in warning, offering him a small smile. He visibly relaxes and a firm nod of his head is your only response.

You can’t help it when you scoff, rolling your eyes as you spin on your heel to walk up to your room. “Fuck’s sake,” you mumble under your breath incredulously.

Not even a few minutes after you’ve begun settling into your room, does a knock come at your door. You sigh, not necessarily wanting to speak or even see anyone right now.

“Whoever it is, I’d appreciate it if you’d kindly fuck-!” you call out before being abruptly cut off as the person opens the door, striding in any way.

“Still got that potty mouth, I see.”

You freeze at the sound of that voice. That voice...a shiver travels through your spine like a small ripple travels in water.

You immediately pause your unpacking, gaze immediately snapping to his. “W-what’re you doing here?” you fight against the lump in your throat, swallowing tightly.

He licks his lips, watching you from his stance near the door with his strong arms crossed across his now even broader chest. His gaze is undecipherable and you feel at a huge disadvantage not knowing what the hell it is he’s thinking.

Nothing much has changed, apparently.

“I didn’t know,” is what he says once he finally breaks the insufferable silence.

You huff at him, going back to your unpacking merely to seem unbothered.

“I’m sure you didn’t.”

He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Y/n,” he begins seriously.

Your insides instantly melt at hearing his voice embrace your name once again after all this time and out of pure damn instinct, your movements freeze and your gaze jumps to him. Fuck.

His gaze doesn’t waver. Doesn’t move away an inch. “I just-,” he licks his lips. “If I had known how much it meant to you- I mean....I-I wouldn’t have- I hate seeing you cry,” he whispers sincerely- as if that is all he is allowed to say.

And you believe him, dammit, you do.

But you’re not the same naive girl from before and he needed to know that. He needed to know that you’d grown up and that he was a part of your past. Not your present and he sure as hell was not a part of your future. Not the one you had planned, anyway.

“Okay,” you retort nonchalantly, not even sparing him a glance. “Do you mind closing the door on your way out? Thanks.”

You hear the shuffle of feet then the closing of the door and then silence.

Finally feeling like you can relax, you release a small sigh, looking up.

A strangled, small, startled gasp escapes your lips and you force your hand down from jumping to your racing heart.

In the few seconds you’ve kept your head down, he’s stridden over to you with incredible stealth and is currently towering over you so closely, you can smell him again. In fact, he’s so close that from this angle, the tip of your nose brushes against his firm t-shirt-clad chest. Was he working out more? Your stomach clenches and your lips part in shock.

He gazes down at you with a spark of emotion in his eyes. “You’re back.”

It’s as if he can’t believe it.

You peer up at him, once again trying to read him. Was that...pride? Curiosity? Longing? It was hard to tell.

“I wanted to be here for the wedding,” you confess quietly before chuckling dryly. “But I might just end up leaving earlier than planned.”

At this, he jerks. It’s small, minuscule even, but you catch it before he regains composure.

“Aunt Kennedy is a really kind woman and she loves your dad. Give her a chance,” he responds calmly. “I know it’s hard for you to watch this happen right now, but everyone deserves happiness.”

You look him in the eye, your heart clenching. ”I assume that includes my mom too,” is all you answer despite wanting to say “And what about me? Us?”

His gaze saddens dramatically. Still, it’s a controlled emotion-- not a crack in the wall. Merely a door he’s opened because he’s allowing you a glimpse into what’s simmering beneath. “I-”

“I know,” you cut him off. “I know that I have no right to stop them from marrying and finding happiness because my mother never got to live her happiness thoroughly. I don’t care that they’re getting married, frankly. What I won’t allow is having my mother’s memory destroyed.”

He licks his lips. “Sweetheart, I get that. I really do and I respect it, too. But-” he hesitates. “Why does it matter so much that we repainted?”

You sigh. “One of my fondest memories is painting this house with my mother. It was one of the things that made it ours. Home. Purple isn’t a common color in this neighborhood in case you haven’t noticed. And my mom- she absolutely abhorred blue.” Your lips quirk up lightly. “Thought it was too sad of a color.”

When you look up at him, he’s even closer, glancing down at you like he couldn’t get enough of having you close. Inspecting you too.

“You’ve changed.” It’s not a question and you wonder how this is all still happening right now. How you had him in front of you, talking to you like you’d been long lost friends who’d had a rough patch but still somehow found your way to one another again.

“Have I?” you decide to play coy, remaining planted in your spot as if to let him know you weren’t intimidated by him even though you were quite literally shiting your pants right now.

How your body was reacting to his proximity was freaking you out even though you should have been used to it. It infuriated you that even after all this time he was able to do this to you. To cause such internalized emotions to whirl around you and force you to suppress them.

He nods, his fingers twitching beside him as he scans your face closely. “You have.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, trying to control your fast-beating heart to no particular avail. “So have you.”

He smirks softly. “Have I?”

You nod in response like he had earlier, weirdly enjoying this new back-and-forth banter.

It was as if this new energy between you from your time apart was fresh and new and clean- and suddenly you could feed off eachother like never before. But still, the weight of what you refused to discuss hung over your heads like some unreachable, unbearable burden.

And there was an air of maturity and even an entitlement that came with that. Alongside it, all these old emotions you’d suppressed over the last two years ferociously fighting to break out of you.

It was all too complicated.

“You have. And it’s not just the hair,” you jest, giggling lightly at your own little joke.

God, he smelled good. And looked so good. And-

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers like it’s hard to find his voice and you can see his hand slowly rising to touch your face. “Still such a firecracker-” he pauses to chuckle with sad endearment, his gaze twisting into a confused frown. “But...different somehow. And I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

His words are enough to make your limbs tremble with delight and you can’t help it when you’re taken aback by his bluntness. You hadn’t expected him to be so upfront with his thoughts right away.

He still thought you were beautiful...

In your time apart it is true that you’d hardened your heart. Truth be told, after the heartbreak he brought you, you couldn’t bear another heartbreak. It’d kill you. So you decided to put up a wall of your own.

His fingers are two centimeters from your face and your skin immediately buzzes with exciting liveliness, anxiously, desperately, seeking his touch on your skin. Wanting- no. Needing it more than anything.

You ached for him to touch you like he had before. To light the same fire within you that you knew could never be put out. To hold you so close to him, entangle himself with you so intricately, you wouldn’t be able to tell when you started and he ended.

But nothing is as it was before. And it wouldn’t be fair for you to act like it was.

“Then don’t,” you mumble and just before he can fully press his fingers to your face, you swiftly step away from him, rounding your bed and acting like you’re so much more interested in unpacking even though your heart is fucking racing in your chest.

The silence that settles between you two is tense and horrible, the air filled with so many questions about what had gone on in the past two years you hadn’t seen eachother, but neither of you is brave enough to act on your curiosities.

So you say the first thing that comes to mind without looking up.

“Who is she?”

He quirks a brow at you. “Who is who?”

He’s acting coy- baiting you to get a reaction, you can tell. It was a game you weren’t all too eager to play, to be honest. So you stop unpacking, looking up at him straight in the eye.

“You know exactly who I’m talking about,” you retort sassily.

He doesn’t even try to hide his smirk. “Why do you care?”

You hide your embarrassment with nonchalance, shrugging. “I don’t. I was just curious.”

He chuckles mockingly. “You know...curiosity killed the cat.”

“But satisfaction brought it back,” you quip, glancing at him.

He laughs that beautiful laugh that made your insides quiver, skillfully avoiding your gaze (and your question).

And rather than stand around awkwardly, he opts to spin on his heels and look around your room. He does this with such a high degree of casualness and familiarity that it boils your blood for some reason. He prods and pokes as if you aren’t standing right there with him, looking at the band posters and books.

“Interesting...” he hums before laughing under his breath as he holds up a Queen vinyl record with a raised brow. “You’ve got some taste, sweetheart.”

You snort, trying to hide how bothered you really were. “Yeah, says the guy who listens to Frank Sinatra.”

He freezes for a only a split second but you catch it once more. What? Did he not think you’d remember?

“Touché,” he retorts under his breath, flipping through one of your books.

Something about the way he carried himself in your space like it was his too- even after all the time that has gone by without you even seeing eachother- made you so utterly pissed.

“Can you-” you sigh, trying to refrain from letting your petulant side slip.

“Why are you here, Mr. Evans?” you ask point-blank, unable to see why he was choosing to stick around you despite your weird and awkward situation. You’re also not seeing a point in beating around the bush.

He doesn’t respond at first, merely looks at you with that same unreadable expression you hated so much.

“I had found out about your father and Aunt Kennedy only when they were already engaged. It came as a shock to us all. I don’t want you to think I planned any of this in some weird, creepy strategy to-“ he inhales sharply, smiling wryly. “...you know what I mean.”

You shrug. “I didn’t think it was either way.”

He clears his throat. “Good, because I have no reason to do that, you know?”

Sharp pain inevitably shoots through you at this and you can’t help but laugh dryly. “Of course you don’t. I hadn’t expected this either, for the record. If you were shocked, imagine how much of a sneak-up this was on me.”

“Well, that’s because you left.” It comes out of his mouth too fast and there’s something ever so slightly strained in it.

You reel back immediately, brows raised. Is he accusing you of something? And is that hurt you hear in his voice?

You don’t get time to voice these questions before he’s completely backpedaling, freaking out because he’s said and shown too much.

“Anyway, I think it’s about high time I head back downstairs. Get some rest, sweetheart.”

Before you can even fully process what you’re doing, you throw yourself in between him and the door, blocking his path. Peering up at him, you try to ignore how close you two are and how softly your chests are brushing.

“Answer honestly. Do you hate me?” you whisper so softly, you’re sure he has to strain to hear what you’re saying.

His face immediately twists into a sad grimace- tender and vulnerable- as he looks down at you. His eyes are utterly entrancing, your lips only a few inches apart. Slowly, his hand reaches up to touch you again.

A crack in the wall?

Your flinch is tiny, a twitch at best, but he notices. His grimace deepens and he slowly retracts his hand, letting it drop stiffly beside him.

He gradually steps back and you’re terrified he won’t answer your question before he talks again, his voice soft and earnest.

“I thought you would know by now.”

“Know what?” You frown.

He smiles. “I could never hate you, sweetheart. Even if I tried.”

And then he walks out.

You sleep for hours, too exhausted to even change out of your clothes before you tumble onto your bed and pass out.

You really must’ve been jetlagged because with all the thoughts racing through your head after what’s just occurred with Chris, you’d think it would have been impossible to fall asleep in the first place.

It’s all so confusing and weirdly coincidental. Like really, what are the odds of this happening? And maybe in a moment of insanity, you can’t help but think what if this is destiny?

But it isn’t long before another thought overrides that one and you grow scared when it strikes you right in the gut. This would mean that you’d have to see a lot more of him. Especially since it’s the week of the wedding.

Something in you curls and you don’t know whether it’s in excitement or fear. Probably both.

You stay in bed a while longer, unable to go downstairs in fear of awkwardness and having to face more guests with a fake smile plastered on your face. Your thoughts kept going back to Mr. Evans and all the questions that were left unspoken between you two, so you decide to distract yourself.

Talking with Margo and catching her up on everything seemed as a good place to start at as any.

And she -as you’d expected- freaks out after you tell her Mr. Evans is related to Kennedy and you have to take your phone off your ear momentarily due to her shrill screams.

“Margo, seriously. Calm down, it’s not that big a deal,” you lie right through your teeth, getting off your bed and putting your phone on speaker as pull your hair into a messy bun.

She laughs maniacally. “What the hell do you mean, baby girl!? Do you even realize how gaga you were about eachother just a few years ago? It’s crazy that your teacher crush is now practically apart of your family.”

You scoff, blushing madly as you pull your heels off. “I was not gaga about Mr. Evans, Margo. It was just a schoolgirl crush.”

She hums unconvincingly. “Yeah, sure. It’s not like it was clear as day on both your faces that you loved eachother.” A pause. “...not to mention the fact that you both went on to have a relationship afterward.”

You freeze, eyes as wide as saucers. “W-what?”

She laughs breezily. “Oh please, Y/n. You’ve been my best friend since childhood, you really think you could hide something that big from me? Nuh-uh, babygirl. It was written all over your face when I even brought him up, too. But even more telling were the looks you gave eachother. That’s when I knew.”

You swallow harshly, slowly reaching for your makeup wipes, almost like you didn’t know whether you should be acting like this wasn’t completely unexpected or not. “We gave eachother looks?”

She snickers. “Did you ever! Hate to break it to you, hun, but the look of two people in love is practically impossible to hide.” She sighs, voice lowering. “I’ll admit, at first I was offended you hadn’t told me but then I remembered those looks. You were wrapped up in your own little world and I knew telling me would mean letting someone else in that world. You weren't ready for that and neither was he.”

You’ve ceased everything you’re doing, your mouth trembling and tears already gathering in your eyes. You have no idea what to say or even do right now. Hearing someone else say this out loud...it was electrifying in a horrific way.

After a few seconds of this, she finally speaks up again. “Y/n?”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I’m sorry,” is all you can say in a shaky whisper.

She clicks her tongue. “It’s fine, really! I just- I know it’s not because you didn’t trust me with it. I mean I could see you practically dying to tell me. It must’ve been hard not being able to talk to anyone about what you felt, right?” Her tone is soft, comforting.

You sag with relief. “God, you have no idea. It doesn’t matter anymore though,” you straighten out.

“Why?”

“Because it’s been over for a long time. In fact, we hadn’t even labeled what ‘it’ was,” you laugh dryly.

She’s silent for a second before responding in a matter-of-fact tone. “Doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.”

That strikes you for some reason and you remember what you’d told him that day at his house when you were pointlessly and foolishly begging him to keep loving you. “What we feel is real. This- us, we’re real. You know we are.”

And yet- You huff, a sardonically sad smile spread limply on your face.

“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what that means, Margo.”

Your talk with Margo had carried on far into the night, and you’d caught up with her life, not wanting to think anymore about Mr. Evans and everything that was going on with the wedding and your father.

She had met a guy a few years ago- Todd. He was a nice dude. Kinda nerdy, totally not her normal type. But he treated her like she deserved, loved her endlessly and she did so too. You envied her happiness, truthfully. But you were also really excited for her.

You tell her about Daniel and the problems you had been having, practically screaming about how complicated it all was and how you “just wish you could fuck him”.

Margo, who had never shied away from sex and all its conversation glory, explained that once you found someone you truly loved-- it was magical to become one with them physically. Heightened everything about sex-- the pleasure, was an obvious one, but the intensity with which you experienced that pleasure, on the other hand, wasn’t that obvious.

That also really stuck with you. Was it really? Would it feel like that with Daniel? What was holding you back from just going ahead and doing it? You loved Daniel so shouldn’t it be easy to want that with him?

I don’t know. Maybe I’m making it too complicated. Maybe I should just go for it.

After you’d finished talking to her, you’d changed out of your clothes into your PJs- a simple tank top and cotton shorts and once you thought it was late enough into the night that you wouldn’t bump into anyone, headed downstairs for some food.

All this emotional turmoil makes one hungry.

Read Chapter Three here!!

***

Does it ever!

A Special Thanks to:

@star-spangled-steve

@tomoyaevaans

@pepsicola-is-my-brand-man

@whereeverythingisbetter

@fallenoutofrose

@plutonium-m

@beepbeepromanoff

@faithmichaluk

@sincerelytlh

And my forevers!

@jessikared97

@ladyofletters67

@lilypalmer1987

@sammykb1994

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans au #teacher!chris evans x student!reader #teacher x student #Mr. Evans II #Mr. Evans #mr evans 2 #mr e

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gastrobrack · 4 years

Text

Brave New World 2020 review from probably the biggest fan of the book you’ll meet in your life

(Mostly Spoiler Free) Okay so. I’ve been waiting for this show for a really long time because I absolutely love the book and it means a lot to me. My standards were admittedly pretty low because it can’t get worse than the 1998 movie, so I didn’t really mind when I saw the trailers and stuff where other people were complaining.

TL;DR I thought the show was actually pretty enjoyable, but you have to read the book first in my opinion, or else it seems like it would be hard to follow at times. Where the show really screwed up royally was Mond’s storyline, which felt completely out of place and confusing, and when it ended up dominating the end of the final episode it just kinda ruined the story for me. The show is definitely more focused on the setting and characters than the societal predictions and themes of the novel, and for me that’s okay because we have the book to tell it better anyways. I’d say watch it if you liked the book or are curious about it, but I don’t think it would really be enjoyable for the average viewer.

Side note: I watched this in the wee hours of the morning and some of the praise might just be the special interest talking, I’m just happy to be here and get more content

That being said, I think this show is like the Riverdale of Brave New World. However, in its defense it’s at least got the energy of the parts of Riverdale like the “epic highs and lows of high school football” and the “serial killer gene”, so it’s at least pretty funny. Personally, I knew that they would have to change a lot both to adjust for the longer runtime (around 9 hours) and to make the book enjoyable to a TV audience, because of course in the book you can have 2 chapters of exposition at the beginning and that’s not as enjoyable for a TV experience. So, let’s get into the pros and cons of the show!

PROS

-I really liked Bernard! In the book he means a lot to me personally (hell, I’m writing this while listening to my Bernard playlist) so I was of course kinda worried they might screw him up again like they did in the ‘98 movie, but I was pleasantly surprised! They did change him and divide his original personality between John and Lenina, but somehow they managed to create a new Bernard that both kept me on my toes and at the same time felt authentic and likeable!

-Honestly, almost all the characters were done very well. They were all expanded upon in an interesting way while also staying generally pretty accurate to their book counterparts. I generally felt the same about them as I did with the novel, so I think that means they did a job well done. I think that John and Lenina were very different, but they still ultimately had the same general motivations. A lot of the cast’s interactions felt very natural, and I liked that they expanded upon Lenina and Fanny’s (or Frannie as she’s called here) friendship.

-The show looked great, I know a lot of people really didn’t like the look of it because it wasn’t what they thought it would be when they read it, but for me that’s basically exactly what I imagined it would be. The costume designer clearly had fun making a bunch of outlandish outfits for everyone to wear and it’s all very pleasant to look at.

-I think they did a good job fixing some of the problematic elements of the book without actually damaging the integrity of the things they were changing. For example, in the book, the savage reservation is quite literally just a native reservation, written in a way that clearly suggests Huxley didn’t really put a lot of thought into his depiction of real people. In the show, it’s a theme park where British people get to immerse themselves in the cultures of the old world, with the savages themselves being poor theme park workers reenacting events to shock and mystify the Brits. Now, admittedly, I think this makes a lot more sense as it ties into the consumerism that runs deep within their society. I know some people are mad about this because they think it’s cancel culture or something but honestly it’s not a big deal to me.

-This one might not be as important to some people, but I liked that the cast was pretty diverse, and the fact that John is the only straight one honestly made sense to me considering it would be in the World State’s best interest to encourage bisexuality amongst its citizens. Some of the characters (Helmholtz and Mond) are being played by women, and some people are kinda upset about that but I don’t really think it changed too much, although to me it is funny to think the showrunner thought he was doing something by “casting women of color to play white male characters” considering everyone I know who read the book didn’t picture either of them as white.

-Honestly, I think the show did humor very well. It was very funny in a sort of dry way, and never felt forced or out of place. It all seemed like it naturally stemmed from the characters’ awkwardness and culture shock (on both sides) and it made me really happy as someone who loves all these characters to see them make me laugh.

CONS

-Now, I’m not usually one to complain about this too much, seeing as I love the book in a non thematic and academic context, but the message kinda got lost in all of it. I think the issues they brought up certainly were there, and could lend themselves very well to being good. The writers just focused on the entirely wrong things in the last episode, and that misguided focus completely changes the lens in which the rest of the show is retroactively viewed for me.

-Mustapha Mond was just, where do I even begin. In the book, Mond doesn’t show up much except to provide exposition, and his position as an authoritative figure ultimately moves the plot towards the end of the novel. In the show, Mond gets this weird AI plotline that makes no sense, as in this version they have a sort of internet contact lens type system that allows them to connect to everyone else, and it is powered by said AI. The system itself doesn’t bother me as much as how poorly handled this plotline was. Not only was it completely random and was the only plotline in the show not to have some sort of roots in the events of the book, but it was extremely confusing to me. This leads into my next point, which is:

-The ending. Oh my God the ending. Now, look. I’m not gonna say much because I want this to be as spoiler free as possible, but the ending just honestly was a dumpster fire. The writers chose to focus the whole ending on the aforementioned AI plotline, despite the book providing a much more solid framework for an ending that they already seemed to be setting up. This shift in focus comes very late into the final episode, and it honestly doesn’t make any sense why the writers would really want to go this route. It feels like they were just adding things that didn’t fit into the story, and I can’t really discern why except for the possibility of setting up an unnecessary second season. I love the book, it’s my special interest, but I think I speak for everyone when I say we do not need a second season especially if its gonna be full of plotlines that make no sense and serve no purpose. This heavily changed ending not only undermines the whole thematic purpose of the novel but honestly kind of goes actively against everything the book was trying to say in the first place.

-They really don’t set up any of the world building, and although I caught on very quickly due to my familiarity with the book, it seems like it might get confusing for unfamiliar watchers. In the book, they explain their process for birthing and then conditioning children into their social body very in depth before they get into the actual plot and characters, and I think this show could have used some of that. Here, they talk a lot about conditioning but don’t actually explain what the conditioning is or why they have the caste system in the first place.

-This is a minor disappointment more than anything and I didn’t actually notice till about the second episode, but there’s no more Ford talk, which is kinda disappointing cause it was pretty fun in the book.

-Obviously it goes without saying that there’s sex in this, I mean it IS Brave New World. However, in this one, it just feels excessive and kinda just like it’s there for shock value more than anything.

-This isn’t really a con so much as it is just a disclaimer, I know a lot of people are excited for Demi Moore as Linda and Joseph Morgan as the new character CJack60, but don’t get your hopes up too much, they don’t get to do much. If you read the book, you’d know that about Linda but I’ve seen reviewers get upset that she wasn’t in it more when she was one of the big names attached to the project. (FWIW she did a great job and I loved Linda in this whereas I didn’t in the book) As for CJack, he spends a lot of time just standing there and looking at things and doesn’t get to do much until the last 2 episodes or so.

CONCLUSION

As someone who really loves the book’s setting and characters sometimes even more than the actual messages and predictions, I’ve always wanted an adaptation that focuses more on those elements, especially since that would make for an easier transition to the screen. Seeing this was a very nice breath of fresh air, because it embraces the inherently satirical and dare I say funny aspect of the story, as well as the characters’ individual quirks and distinct personalities. Obviously it’s not as hard hitting and important as the book, but I think those messages were better left in book form anyway. For someone like me, who loves the book with all my heart, this show honestly gave me most everything I wanted and it felt the most true to the spirit of the book’s world and characters out of any of the adaptations. I would say check out the show if you’re interested in it or enjoyed the book, but you should definitely be familiar with the book before you watch this.

#brave new world #sorry this is so long #i pulled an all nighter to watch the show as soon as possible and im running on 2hrs of sleep #anyway stan bernard!

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steve0discusses · 4 years

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Yugioh Season Zero: Seto Kaiba's First Kidnapping

It’s Christmas vacation, I have Mannheim Steamroller on repeat, so much chocolate just an arms reach away from me. And I have purposely given myself nothing to do as an attempt to teach myself to do nothing.

So lets watch something weird and revisit Zero.

For those new here, I have been also reviewing most of Season Zero. If you don’t know what that is, you can my recaps in order by clicking this link here.

And like last time, I am not actually affiliated with Team Millennium, and I hope they don’t mind that I am capping their episode. You can find them on Youtube where they are slowly redubbing this season into English, and um--this next episode is the last episode they have! So I don’t know how I’m going to recap the rest?

Probably the same way I did in the first episode where it’s a lot less dialogue and more just...my reaction to it.

And, as always, my disclaimer for the new people that this was made in the 90′s and based off of the OG manga and it is...not the same show. It’s problematic. Why wouldn’t it be? It’s a counter-culture anime from the 90′s. Though this episode is pretty tame, honestly. Weird, but tame.

So, we start off the episode with a very lovingly drawn sky, not sure why it’s on THIS show but it’s here. This post apocalyptic sunset.

And staring directly into this sun going supernova is Seto Kaiba in his green hair, just brooding...

Not sure how he has this view from his Pemberly style mansion, but I dunno, maybe the city is visible from the backyard, or Seto just has really good vision. Either way don’t worry about it, we see Seto vibe out and visualize weird stuff all the time.

So, spurned by his hate for his classmate that beat him in cards once, Seto decides it’s time to enact his revenge by...what sounds a lot like some weird Lord of the Rings Lore and I dunno if it’s a bad translation or I just don’t really know what the hell he’s going off about because I never read the Yugioh version of the Silmarillion. Probably both.

See, while the first couple episodes of this show have different variations on Youtube, this one really only had the Team Millennium version in English (which is fine, there’s just some confusing things) and then the other version I saw skipped half of the episode because I guess they decided this part was boring or something. So forgive the fact that I’m flying on the seat of my pants here and I assume y’all will know all the deets I don’t know. For once, my contribution will be...kind of a lot less words.

So lets get right to it.

(read more under the cut)

Seto, who is in so much denial from Seasons 1-4, that I’ve headcanoned is actually cursed to never admit magic is real, has decided to call upon the (checks notes)

4 Game Masters

Yeah, that’s a new mechanic, these are a thing now. Don’t worry if you never heard of them before, I’ve been capping this show and I also have never heard of the legendary 4 magical Game Masters either.

So at this point these statues start glowing all creepy, and because it’s Yugioh I just kinda assumed...they’d do something.

I’m starting to think that maybe that was supposed to be symbolic, actually. Maybe there was never actually magic in the statues. Maybe it’s part of Seto hallucinating, as always. This whole show kind of runs on being a sort of metal fever dream whenever people get intense about games, so I’m probably not supposed to align it with any established magic laws anyway. It’s just I never know when things are real or just aesthetics, which I enjoy, quite a bit, that it’s open ended--but still it’s somewhat confusing as to if these gargoyles are...a thing now or were just always set dressing to kind of remind us of the cards that come later in the episode.

But, remember the spooky indoor gargoyles in your mind, keep it there, these menacing gargoyles over a fiery sunset...

OK now lets meet the real villain.

There he is. Our villain. And his name? Ripley Sheldon.

MAN to go from spooky gargoyles to Ripley Sheldon. There’s a name. That’s a name all right. I’ve only seen one episode of Big Bang Theory but Sheldon is a name forever ruined for me.

So--sidestory--this one time, my friend was at a wedding in Santa Cruz, which is a pretty beachy hippie town that always smelled like weed before it was legal, and there was just...a doll at the wedding. My friend was seated at a dinner party table just right next to this doll, and the family was like “Ah yes, this is the doll, you have to speak to her. She’s a member of the family.” and my friend had to suffer roleplaying with this doll for hours.

So before you’re like...there’s no way grown ass adults are this weird with dolls in public.

Yes. It happens.

Ah, and it’s the first instances of the Kaiba Corp logo and it’s the same. Complete with helicopter, because that Logo is never done until it’s surrounded by a fast military vehicle of some sort.

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh great.

Yo remember that one episode where Yugi almost got his legs chopped off by Arcana and Arcana’s wife was being held behind a curtain, and at the end of the episode Arcana pulls back the curtain and his wife was a manikin the whole time and her head fell off?

Getting those vibes.

Back at school, Miho is busy being the most manipulative human being, this time with losing at cards. Like y’all I am TRYING to give Miho the benefit of a doubt here, but it seems even the translators hated Miho so much they had her refer to herself in the 3rd person. I am trying, really I am, sorry to everyone who loves Miho, I will leave that door open as I watch these--that maybe Miho will...grow on me.

But not this episode.

And then this happened. I guess from the breeze of Honda leaning over too far.

Believe it or not, Yuugi’s vertigo will come back later in this very episode. This whole bizarre scenario was just foreshadowing.

But for reals, Yuugi is so FRAIL in Season Zero. While I appreciate the contrast between Yuugi and Yami Yuugi, I gotta recognize how much Yugi has evolved over 4+ seasons because Yuugi is just...eggshells. Every part of him is polite little eggshells.

But in contrast, you have Anzu who is ready to fight in every single scene she’s in and I’m OK with that.

That and the very clear romantic direction that is just...simple. It’s very simple in Season Zero. That’s nice.

Anzu isn’t even possessed by two ghosts. In fact, between Anzu and Yuugi right now, there are 0 ghosts. So weird. So kosher.

Speaking of weird,

Y’all, I have no explanation for this. I only know so much Kanji.

The translation I watched tried so very hard to do what they could with this, and kudos to them, but...this is what happens with translation, it’s just a very hard job sometimes. So I get how they decided to form this joke into English, but if anyone is like a Japanese speaker and gets the pun that was clearly happening here, feel free to youknow, share the knowledge.

Unfortunately the undubbed episode that exists on Youtube that I found edited out this part so they didn’t have to try and translate it, lol. Either way, I appreciate Orange Jounouchi a lot, as well as the background squids on Squid Jounouchi.

Can you imagine just being in high school, and you get summoned to the Nurses Office? Can you even imagine what rumors would start from that? Like I know Seto wants revenge against Yuugi through cards, but I think he just did. I think he did like maybe one of the worst things you can do to a High Schooler just now. May as well page over the intercom that Yuugi has to pick up his yeast infection ointment.

And this is where we meet...a ridiculous satire. This 30 year old beautiful woman flirting with a child disaster who cannot balance while seated on a low chair.

And predictably, Yuugi lost because things just got THAT weird and awkward. Dunno if the translators put that in there for fun, or if that’s honestly how it was in the original. My bet it was probably exactly that weird in the original. Mostly because this show has a lot of “stranger danger” set ups to teach little children to never trust bad adults and this just seemed like exactly that type of set-up. Don’t trust the overly nice nurse or she’ll steal your cards in a game, kids.

After this really awkward card game (and I’m not going to bother to dive into it because I don’t talk about the card mechanics here), we find out...that Seto’s just been staring at them...the entire time.

Like it has such a voyeuristic vibe to it, it really makes you wonder about Seto’s whole deal just an awful lot. Like Season 1-4 doesn’t really ship Yugi/Kaiba, in my opinion (and just my opinion, I know how y’all feel about the ship and that is a-ok, all ships are welcome here)...but Season Zero ships A LOT. It’s not a serious ship by any means, it’s clearly a crack ship, but they...very clearly know what they’re doing with Seto being this obsessed with Yuugi in this way, omg. It just sounds like a kink to me.

So, ways to beat Yuugi Muto:

steal his stuff halfway through the game, try to kill yourself, rock paper scissors, try to kill Joey Wheeler, or dress up a sex doll like a nurse and have a gross old man have it play cards while he makes a sexy lady voiceover.

(Y’all I’ve been to my share of arcades in my life and I think I’ve only seen like 6 pinball tables total. Do good arcades only exist on TV? I think it’s all a lie.)

Then, because I guess this episode wasn’t going anywhere, Yuugi goes to the arcade to play some video games. The video game is unimportant, and it’s never been brought up before, but he’s dead set on finding it. Because unlike Yugi, Yuugi just doesn’t really have a goal in this series so he just kind of flutters around until someone tells him what to do.

TBH that’s a pretty 90′s thing for a show or a movie to do. To have characters just exist and have things happen to them, but in all, they’re just...wandering. So it’s not so much a knock on the show, it’s just that sometimes it’s a little of a transition to go from a goal being something physical, like finding the lost city of Atlantis before every human’s soul is absorbed into the great Leviathan, to the goal being more of a mental acceptance--Yuugi just learning to accept this curse he doesn’t even know he has yet, and trying to find acceptance in his group of friends.

With Yuugi, we’re kind of just watching his daily life, which is mostly watching him try and sneak games into every spare moment that his local adult has turned around. It has a very slice of life feel to it, but minus the near constant innuendo slice of life tends to have (at least the ones that have been recommended to me)

Now, because this is a show about people getting a real EXTREME comeuppance every time they break the law, what will happen to Yuugi for ignoring his Grandpa’s wishes and going to the arcade before going home?

First, we meet this mushroom haired person.

That’s right kids, NEVER stop by the arcade on the way home from school--1.) The local arcades are almost always 90% boring racing games and busted shooters that came out on the Nintendo 64 when I was a child and 2.) You will get abducted.

And then we get this face swap.

Kaiba just really loves dress-up. No wonder he was hanging out with a guy super into dolls. And like, I went into before how Seto Kaiba is always doused in facsimile energy. He loves faking it up, and apparently that’s been true since Zero.

He introduces that he will have four challenges from four Game Masters and uh so welcome to the...I don’t where this is, but a weird place full of dolls that must exist somewhere in Domino.

I guess this is to make it seem like they have an audience to watch Yuugi fail but even still...what?

So we get kind of a mirror to the scene at the beginning with Miho crying and Honda telling Yuugi to apologize for beating her, except replace Miho with Seto and Honda with this guy who really likes dolls (and Miho is a lot like a cursed doll). Like, if there were a theme to this episode it’s “grow up and stop apologizing when you beat someone in a card game” which isn’t a terrible theme, especially in this show that is about Yuugi learning how to adult.

In fact the “grow the hell up” theme is so strong we have a villain who is just...a big baby who carries dolls around. Kinda makes you wonder if the show would have eventually had Yuugi just...grow out of toys and games completely for the finale. Like in the Yugioh we have now, he can’t, because first off they licensed a hell ton of toys, but also because Yugi does games for his actual job. Even if Pharaoh was gone, Yugi still has to play games all the time. In this case, he could just...be using the games to learn how to do adult things, which is actually why we give kids games in the first place.

But, speculation aside, it’s at this point that a card play knocks Yuugi off of his chair and he passes out. Despite the fact that this isn’t a Shadow game and there...shouldn’t be any magic present. In fact, I don’t think any part of this game in this episode required opening the door of darkness. When he switches to Yami shortly after falling off of his own chair he’s like...yeah this is fine. Seems all above board. No need to kill anybody

And then apparently there’s a type of Dual Monster’s card I was unaware of.

A doll-type.

So I looked it up, is there a doll type card in Yugioh?

And it seems like there’s a lot of dolls, but not like...a type, as far as I can tell. Again, I don’t play this game, I’m only here for the plot and this one just seemed like they really had to reach for Yuugi to have just the right type of card to play.

And again, because this wasn’t a Shadow Duel, our loser just kind of walks away...all the way back to Britain, I guess.

And Seto just stands there behind a window in a rainstorm to allude to his many unshed salty tears, and it cuts to Miho who I guess has learned not to cry when she loses to Yuugi now.

And then she pulls out an absolutely winning tactic. This would win, actually. It’s actually genius.

And that is a very strong

From me. Wow. No thanks. I actually don’t want to see Yuugi do a kissy face ever again, thank you.

Half of you loved that though. This is fine. We’re all different.

Anyway, I assume the game was never played, or Miho won and the show just decided not to show it. If Season Zero Yuugi is a Yuugi that makes out then...that is...shocking. Then again, we’re only like...a third of the way through? I think?

Anyway, it’s...after Christmas because I went out of town for a spell, but I’ll just...post this now. Last post before the new year.

I’ll see y’all in 2020!

#ygo #yugioh #season zero #yuugi muto #anzu #jounoushi #seto kaiba #honda #dolls?#Like lots of creepy dolls?#ripley sheldon #miho #photo recaps #episode recap

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the-desolated-quill · 5 years

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We Need To Talk About James Gunn - Quill’s Scribbles

This could prove to be the most controversial Scribble I’ve ever written on this blog, and the sad thing is it really shouldn’t be, in my opinion.

First off, a couple of disclaimers because I know some people are going to accuse me of ‘bias’. I’ve never been very fond of James Gunn as a filmmaker, it’s true. I thought the first Guardians Of The Galaxy movie was okay at best and I absolutely hated the sequel, but I confess that’s less to do with any inherent flaws in the films themselves and more to do with the fact that I just don’t like Gunn’s style of humour. Oh don’t get me wrong. There are still legitimate problems, which I’ll go into later when they become relevant, but I’m big enough to admit that my dislike for his brand of comedy and storytelling is merely due to my own subjective tastes (the same is true of Taika Waititi and Thor: Ragnarok).

Okay. So. Let’s talk about James Gunn.

As I’m sure most of you know, in July 2018, an alt-right conspiracy theorist called Mike Cernovich unearthed tweets made by Gunn between 2008 and 2012 where he made offensive jokes and remarks about sensitive topics such as rape, child abuse and paedophilia. While James Gunn did apologise and vowed to ‘do better,’ Disney, fearing the public backlash, fired Gunn as director of Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol. 3 and dismissed him from any role in producing and expanding Marvel’s planned ‘Cosmic Universe.’ The result was the public backlash Disney were trying to avoid in the first place. They received a lot of criticism from various entertainers and filmmakers, as well as many media outlets such as Collider and The Independent, the cast of Guardians wrote a letter urging Disney to reconsider their decision with Dave Bautista in particular being very vocal in his criticism, and there was a massive outcry from fans who petitioned for Gunn to be rehired. Guy Lodge, writing for The Guardian, asked the question ‘Was James Gunn the first undeserving victim of Hollywood’s new zero tolerance policy?’ Now I’d argue the answer to that question is a definitive no, but apparently, and surprisingly, that’s not a very popular opinion among liberals. So I’d very much like to challenge them as we explore James Gunn’s moral character and ask ourselves why he’s being defended so passionately.

Before we go any further, I think it would be a good idea for me to show you some of the tweets that we’re talking about, just to remind everyone what we’re dealing with here.

Now I hope we can all agree that this is objectively disgusting. Only an amoral, depraved and utterly moronic individual would find offensive tweets like these even remotely funny. But I should make it clear that, by James Gunn’s own admission, these tweets represent who he was rather than who he is. In his apology, he described himself as a ‘provocateur’ during the early days of his career, making shocking statements for the purposes of ‘satire.’ But it’s okay because he’s a better person who has grown and matured fully and will never do this again. Fair enough, you’d think. He admitted what he did was wrong and apologised profusely. That was a very honourable and decent thing to do.

Except we’ve seen this song and dance before.

In 2012, roundabout when Marvel announced they were making a Guardians Of The Galaxy movie with James Gunn directing, an old blog post of Gunn’s resurfaced entitled ‘The 50 Superheroes You Most Want To Have Sex With.’ The original post has since been deleted, but cached versions still exist here and there around the internet if you know where to look. Here are a few quotes from said blog:

[on natasha romanoff, the highest ~debut] “considering she’s fucked half the guys in the marvel universe, that’s quite a feat”

[on batwoman] “i’m hoping for a dc-marvel crossover so that tony stark can turn her; she could also have sex with nightwing and still be a lesbian”

”Many of the people who voted for the Flash were gay men. I have no idea why this is. But I do know if I was going to get fucked in the butt I too would want it to be by someone who would get it over with quick.”

Needless to say, this was quite offensive and causing bad PR, so James Gunn issued an apology:

“A couple of years ago I wrote a blog that was meant to be satirical and funny. In rereading it over the past day I don’t think it’s funny. The attempted humor in the blog does not represent my actual feelings. However, I can see where statements were poorly worded and offensive to many. I’m sorry and regret making them at all.

People who are familiar with me as evidenced by my Facebook page and other mediums know that I’m an outspoken proponent for the rights of the gay and lesbian community, women and anyone who feels disenfranchised, and it kills me that some other outsider like myself, despite his or her gender or sexuality, might feel hurt or attacked by something I said. We’re all in the same camp, and I want to do my best to make this world a better place for all of us. I’m learning all the time. I promise to be more careful with my words in the future. And I will do my best to be funnier as well. Much love to all – James”

Sound familiar?

Now of course it’s unfair to judge the man based on past actions that he himself apologised for. What matters is the present. Whether or not he has demonstrated to a reasonable standard that his work has grown and matured and that his offensive idiocy is a thing of the past. So let’s look at the Guardians Of The Galaxy movies.

While the first movie received critical acclaim, a few people (particularly fans of the source material) complained about how Gamora was treated. The so called ‘most powerful woman in the galaxy’ was reduced to a love interest, an occasional damsel in distress and there were a few odd occasions where she was objectified and degraded based on her sexual history. The most prominent example of which is when Drax describes her as ‘a green whore.’ The context being that he was ignorant of how offensive he was being despite trying to compliment her and call her a friend, and this was played for laughs in the movie. The second movie has more examples. Gamora’s role still paled in comparison to the role she played in the comics, and a new female character called Mantis was introduced whose power level from the comics was also significantly reduced for the movie and whose character was effectively reduced to be a punchline/punching bag. There’s also a scene involving Drax where he frequently describes her as ugly, saying that "when you're ugly and someone loves you, you know they love you for who you are. Beautiful people never know who to trust." Again this is played for laughs. Except I’d argue that an adult man constantly fixating on a woman’s appearance isn’t even remotely funny.

Another disturbing aspect of the Guardians 2 was the way it seemed to romanticise and excuse abusive relationships. Obviously there’s Drax and Mantis, but the biggest example is Star Lord and Yondu. The first movie did a reasonably good job establishing what drew Star Lord and Gamora together. They were both trying to escape from abusive father figures. The second film does a complete U-turn, calling Yondu Star Lord’s ‘David Hasselhoff’ and giving him a gratuitous and overly sentimental funeral as though he were a noble hero. While I’m sure the death of Yondu would emotionally impact Star Lord to a certain extent (he did raise the kid after all), to say that he’s like ‘David Hasselhoff’ because he’s a better dad than Ego the Living Planet was seems like a very low bar to clear. By that logic, Hitler was a good person because he didn’t kill as many people as Stalin did. It’s tone deaf, lacking in nuance and just a little bit insulting.

Bearing all this in mind, has James Gunn grown and matured since the period between 2008 and 2012? That’s for you to judge. I’d personally argue he hasn’t. Sure he’s no longer as extreme or provocative as he once was, but that’s not necessarily proof that he’s matured. Rather he’s just gotten better at hiding his immaturity. And in my own subjective opinion, based on his work, I think Disney made the right decision in sacking him. Now let me be clear, I don’t think Disney sacked him in order to take a moral stand as a lot of the problematic elements in the Guardians films have carried over into other MCU films. Gamora is still treated like shit in Avengers: Infinity War, and Thanos, who, like Yondu, was clearly established in the first Guardians movie as an abusive father figure, has been woobified and turned into a kind of sympathetic anti villain who actually cared about his daughter and only killed her because he had no other choice (as opposed to, you know, because he is a maniacal despot who’s a few Oompa Loompas short of a chocolate factory). The reason Gunn was fired was because of bad PR. Disney had dealt with this shit before in 2012 and they weren’t prepared to deal with it again, so they dropped the baggage, as it were. It’s a very common occurrence in Hollywood. Which is what makes the public backlash against this decision so puzzling to me.

I can understand being upset that the director of your favourite franchise has been fired, but can we try to get some perspective here? What happened to Gunn is nothing unique. This kind of thing happens all the time. A filmmaker does something controversial or has been revealed to have done something controversial in the past, the studio sacks them in an attempt to save face and everyone gets on with their lives. The situation with James Gunn is no different. The only reason I can see why people are so passionately against this is because of how these tweets were unearthed in the first place. Because the discoverer of the tweets, Mike Cernovich, is a member of the alt-right, the liberal community seem predisposed to dismiss this out of hand, which I think is incredibly dangerous. Okay, yes, Cernovich is a Nazi and almost certainly didn’t do this out of the goodness of his heart, but even a broken clock is right twice a day. It doesn’t change the fact that the tweets still exist and that they’re still incredibly offensive. And all the things I’ve heard people say in defence of James Gunn sound very similar to things the right would say about the likes of Brett Cavanaugh and Donald Trump. ‘It was x number of years ago.’ ‘It’s not relevant to who he is now.’ ‘He’s changed.’ ‘You can’t judge someone based on their past mistakes.’ I mean... come on guys! Either everyone should be held to the same standard or nobody should be held to standards at all. You can’t just change tact just because the person in question has the same political ideals as you. What are we saying? It’s okay for liberals to hold conservatives accountable for past actions and behaviour, but the right can’t do it to the left because apparently it’s not as funny when they do it? It’s classic ‘them and us’ mentality and it’s got to stop.

So, why am I bringing all this up, you may be asking? This happened over six months ago Quill. Aren’t you a little late to the party? Well a couple of days ago, it was announced that Warner Bros and DC Films had hired James Gunn to write and direct a sequel to Suicide Squad.

Well... sequel isn’t quite the right word. Apparently it’s more along the lines of a reimagining. Titled ‘The Suicide Squad’, the film is going to follow a whole new cast of characters and effectively start from scratch. No doubt this is part of WB and DC’s attempts to salvage the DC Extended Universe after the critical and financial disaster that was Justice League, as well as a response to people’s criticisms of the previous Suicide Squad film.

Writer/director David Ayer’s version of Suicide Squad was... let’s be charitable and call it problematic. Many people criticised the film for being misogynistic, borderline racist due to the one dimensional characterisation, and particular outrage was directed toward Ayer’s attempts to romanticise the relationship between the Joker and Harley Quinn. So it’s quite ironic that WB and DC are relying on James Gunn - James Gunn?!?! - to fix Suicide Squad when similar criticisms have been made toward the Guardians Of The Galaxy movies. That’s like hiring Harvey Weinstein to investigate sexual harassment claims.

And do you know what the funny thing is? We’ve been in this exact same situation before. In February 2017, news media started to report that WB and DC were eyeing Mel Gibson, the Oscar nominated director of Hawksaw Ridge and professional arsehole, to direct Suicide Squad 2. I even wrote a Scribble on it then. I heavily criticised WB and DC for caring more about snagging an Oscar nominated director to bolster their failing franchise than about holding certain ethical standards of decency within the industry. Oh, sure, Gibson has said many sexist, homophobic and antisemitic comments for years and has never at any point showed any hint of remorse for the amount of offence he’s caused, but he just made a good movie about Spider-Man fighting in World War II, so it all balances out, doesn’t it? We’re good, right? We’re cool. Gibson’s cool now. Yeah?

And now here we are seeing this play out again. James Gunn, a man who has said some incredibly offensive things over the years, is being hired by WB and DC to helm a new Suicide Squad movie and conveniently ignoring all the problematic shit surrounding him because he’s the guy that made those sci-fi films about the talking raccoon. People love those films. Let’s get him on board.

I’m getting so sick to death of actors and filmmakers getting away with shit and avoiding the consequences of their actions. James Gunn and his offensive tweets, Mel Gibson and his shitty behaviour, Kevin Hart and his temper tantrum when he was expected to apologise for being a homophobic prick. And the few times there are consequences for said actions, people of influence within the industry end up undermining it. WB and DC hiring James Gunn so soon after he was sacked by Disney, and Ellen fucking Degeneres ringing the Academy and persuading them to let Kevin Hart host the Oscars. Thankfully, and to his genuine credit, Hart turned it down, but seriously, what the actual fuck Ellen?! You’re LGBT, aren’t you? Why are you giving him a free pass? Do you have short term memory loss like the fish you voice in Finding fucking Nemo? Jesus Christ!

Finally, to people saying that Disney treated James Gunn too harshly for the tweets, may I remind you that when ‘The 50 Superheroes You Most Want To Have Sex With’ resurfaced in 2012, Disney still kept him on! He still got to write and direct two Marvel movies before finally getting the sack. And he was in talks to lead production in all future ‘Cosmic’ Marvel movies going forward before the resurfaced tweets made that impossible. Too harshly? I think he got off extremely lightly, frankly. I think he’s grotesquely lucky he’s still got a job at all. Let alone a job where he continues to direct tentpole blockbusters. For someone who was treated ‘too harshly’, he’s sure done alright for himself, hasn’t he? He’s not Oliver Twist begging movie studios to give him a film, cap in hand, ‘please sir, may I have some more?’ His position hasn’t changed one iota. That’s what we should be pissed off at. Not that he’s being unfairly punished. That he’s not being punished enough roughly seven years after the fact.

So what should we take away from all this? That we need to hold everyone accountable for their past actions and behaviour, regardless of whether they share our political beliefs or whether they were involved in films we actually like, and that the industry needs to do a better job of upholding the consequences of said actions. And regardless of whether you thought Disney were right to sack James Gunn, it cannot be denied that WB and DC handing the keys of another profitable franchise over to him so soon after this controversy is an incredibly irresponsible thing to do.

#anti james gunn #suicide squad #the suicide squad #guardians of the galaxy #dc extended universe #marvel cinematic universe #disney #quill's scribbles

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lavisims · 6 years

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I think since yesterday I completely lost ALL the faith in humanity I had left.

Sorry if I’m not going to post for a while. In this situation my mood is honestly too bad to even just think of playing.

Also LONG vent under here.

DISCLAIMER: This is not directed to anyone here on tumblr. It’s actually about some comments I was unlucky enough to read on facebook and were directed to someone really close to me. But since this is my most active social media, and I feel situations like this might be happening here too, I’m going to write this on tumblr anyway.

I am seriously SO sick and tired of people thinking they are entitled to post their negative opinions on other people’s work.

These are people that, in my opinion, have a brain smaller than the one of a chicken, (no offense to chickens, they’re cool guys. Surely cooler than the humans I’m writing about) and way too much free time on their hands. I’m all in favor of the freedom of speech, but please don’t hide your hate behind it.

They all just say “It’s just my opinion! Can’t I express my opinion?” …If it’s based on nothing else but personal taste, and it’s not a constructive comment… NO, you can’t……. Well, apparently you actually can, since social media does literally nothing to prevent or fight this, but YOU SHOULDN’T. Not if you’re a decent human being. Also let’s remember that “This does not really fit my tastes” and “Boo! This sucks!! Were you even paid to do this??” are two completely different things. The first one is just an opinion. Still a negative one, but not a rude one. The second one is just HATE. Yes, sorry to destroy your sudden dream of being a professional critic. You’re just a hater. In general I still, and probably never will, understand why people feel the need to comment under other people’s hard work if they have nothing nice to say. If you don’t like something… why don’t you just ignore it instead of wasting your time?

Other “category” of people I’m SO DONE with, and I am risking writing this here since I know for sure that this happens on tumblr too, are those people that are able to find something offensive in EVERYTHING. And I’m not speaking about real big social and political issues. I’m literally speaking of EVERYTHING that is actually not offensive. You could post on your social media a picture of, I don’t know, a shoe for example. You go to bed, you don’t really expect to receive many comments, maybe just some “wow so cute!” from your friends. BUT NOPE. You wake up, check your phone and find A LOT of comments. You think “oh wow! This is nice, what are they saying?” you read and “BOO THIS SHOE SUCK DID YOU EVEN PAY FOR THIS?? THIS OFFENDS ME IN SO MANY WAYS!!”

Of course in my case the subject was not a shoe. But still. I think with my example you understand what I mean. People are able to find “defects” in anything.

If you think I was done here… no. I’m sorry, I still have more. There is a difference between things (photos, videos, posts etc…) that are made seriously and those that are a parody of said things. If you see an ironic “something” about a matter that is considered offensive, made with the whole purpose of disagreeing with the matter in question… and get offended SO MUCH by it. I’m sorry but you are the problem. I understand, not everyone’s brain is the same. There are people who don’t understand irony/parodies/satire. I am NOT saying if you are one of these people you are less smart than the ones who do. BUT if you get offended because you took the “something” in the wrong way. Someone nicely explains to you what the actual point of the thing was. And you still keep going on with your offended hate comments. Then yes. I am saying you are stupid. Sorry (not sorry). And don’t come here and tell me “if so many people didn’t get the real meaning, maybe the “something” was done wrong” because luckily MOST PEOPLE understood that. So yea. Sssshhh.

Okay. This is actually the end. If you read all of this you deserve a cookie or something, because woah. I wrote a lot. Also quite obvious. But this is a personal post. I don’t even think many people will read this, but if you do, please don’t reblog.

#i'm sorry for being so serious today #i am usually not like this at all but this matter really poked me in all the wrong spots #personal #text post #i might delete this later but as of now i have no intention of doing so #also forgive me for any grammar mistake or typo #i am not going to reread since it's just a rant

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jewrocker · 4 years

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The Trump/Twitter Hypocrisy. When Will It End?

Last week, the nice folks at Twitter permanently suspended my account - again. For the fourth time. The previous three times I was kicked off the site were for trolling upstanding patriots like Matt Gaetz, Mitch McConnell, and Lindsey Graham, respectively.

The interesting thing re: this latest suspension, was not that I was kicked off again. By now, I’m used to seeing my account suspended on what seems like a monthly basis - as well as having to rebuild my followers from scratch. Whatever. However, the apparent reason for this latest suspension was for posting a satirical clip a few of us Resisters made of president pie hole opening fire on a group of holiday shoppers -- an obvious nod to his own statement of being able to get away with “shooting people on Fifth Ave.” The caption read "Raise your hand if you think this will be the scene the day after he’s acquitted by the Senate."

Interestingly enough, no sooner am I banished to the Phantom Zone, forever, the Trump campaign releases a video depicting the president as the mass-murdering 'Thanos' from the Avengers, showing the president waving his hand and eviscerating the entire Congressional Impeachment delegation.

Did the folks at Twitter suspend his deplorable offspring for retweeting such blatant hate speech and for all-but-calling for the deaths of these elected officials? Did they at least suspend the accounts of those running Trump’s campaign who created the ad and who thought it was a good idea to publicly advocate for the annihilation of his rivals? Did they do this because, as our Commander-in-Chief, he -as well as the people around him - should be held to higher standards than your average Twitter user? Did they do anything at all? How about the last video, in which the president’s featured as “The Kingsman”, assassinating church goers, including entire news organizations, as well as shooting president Obama in the face? Did they do anything then? #Crickets

Why not, you ask? Ah, that's the big head scratcher, kids. Maybe it’s because there’s a shitload of GOP/Trump-sympathizing interns working the servers who make it their mission to tilt the scales every chance they get? (That would explain our on-again-off-again relationship). Maybe it’s because the geeks at Headquarters were playing Xbox when the spot was posted and not paying attention? Or, perhaps it’s because CEO Jack Dorsey found himself puckering up and kissing some bloated, orange ass in exchange for a few undisclosed favors in one of the happy couple’s recent White House meetings? Maybe good ole Jack’s so guilt-ridden, he decided to relocate to Africa to avoid the media? Who knows? The only thing certain is there is an unequivocal double-standard when it comes to how Twitter polices Trump vs. the rest of us, i.e. it’s non-existent.

Why, since this incredibly unqualified lunatic took office, has Twitter not done a thing to try and curb his attacks on private citizens?

Why haven’t they taken any action when the president of the Unites States uses members of Congress, the FBI (poor Lisa Page), career ambassadors, even dead Congressmen and Senators, as target practice?

Why have they stood by and done nothing as the orange idiot calls for the “outing” of whistleblowers? Why are they doing nothing now that he’s apparently followed through and leaked the Ukraine whistleblower’s name? Aside from being a crime, this makes Twitter accomplices in allowing this brave individual’s life, and possibly the lives of his/her family to be put in danger.

If all this is not enough, does it get any more pathetic than the president of the United States using his favorite app to publicly shame a sixteen year-old girl because he’s jealous he didn’t win “Person of the Year”? Or because he was virtually ignored at Davos in favor of this brilliant and brave teenager?

However, the Orange Emperor’s favorite Twitter past time seems to be publicly shaming/attacking Congressman Adam Schiff - be it using his bully pulpit to criticize his physical appearance in front of an arena full of hungry zombies, or going so far as calling for his head on a spike.

There are so many things wrong with this mind-boggling ambivalence on the part of the world’s most popular communication tool, it’s beyond words. Forget the fact that the president violates one of Twitter’s “Main Commandments” on an hourly basis. That being:

“You may not engage in the targeted harassment of someone, or incite other people to do so.”

Seriously, Twitter? You’re joking, right? Take away every single tweet in which @RealdonaldTrump has either directly harassed, or called for the harassment/public shaming of one of his critics and/or opponents, and you’re left with about six on the economy. Out of about twenty-five thousand. If that’s not bias, I don’t know what is.

Why hasn’t there been a single article or opinion piece in the last three awful years by an executive at Twitter Central who’s watched their application be used for the primary purpose of sowing chaos and discord amongst his/her fellow Americans and who had the balls to try and put a stop to it? Where is the Twitter whistleblower? Something is definitely rotten in Denmark.

Legally speaking, at the moment, there doesn’t seem to be anything we can do. I’ve had scores of friends who’ve had to deal with the two-faced, spineless, hypocritical policies of an entity that thrives on playing judge, jury and executioner towards its users for the most minor of infractions, who, like me, want to sue, and who are then told by an attorney that, because Twitter is not a state or federal agency, they are not bound by first amendment law.

This is a problem that needs fixing, asap. After all, we, the users are the reason - the ONLY reason - Twitter is a multi-billion dollar company. It would seem being allowed to operate, virtually unregulated (you listening Congress?), you’d think the Powers That Be would be forced to afford its users some sort of protection under the Constitution. Especially if they define their main purpose as that of a tool for “Public Conversation.”

Should the biggest entity for conversation/communication/breaking news the world has ever seen be allowed to operate free of oversight? To reap the financial/social rewards it gets by providing such a platform and, in turn, not be subjected to any rules, outside of the ones it provides for itself? Seems a tad one-sided. Especially since they’re now a publicly traded company.

Additionally, Twitter’s entire “Appeal Process” is an absolute joke. A pathetic sham that mocks the user in its apathetic taunt to offer a chance at redemption. Be interesting to know how many users whose accounts have been suspended were reinstated on appeal. I’d venture to say the number is zero to none, as you aren’t ever given the opportunity to communicate w/ a live human being, or to fully explain your situation/defense.

Similar to Facebook’s M.O. of treating its users like batteries in The Matrix, sucking every bit of life they can get before flushing us into the void, Twitter provides one of the most pathetically inadequate support departments in the history of support departments. They make the cable companies look like Trader Joe’s. I’ve had my account suspended for stupid things like ‘wishing’ for Mitch McConnell’s untimely passing (please God, hurry). However, there’s a big difference between wanting/wishing for something and threatening to do it, yourself. With each one-sided suspension, Twitter is telling us they are the Thought Police.

The real dangerous part about what’s happening is, once again, we have technology far eclipsing the pace of regulatory practices/congressional oversight. As we speak, there’s absolutely nothing stopping the most powerful man on earth from using the power of his office, and the technology at his fingertips, to threaten, intimidate, harass, bully, and lie, round-the-clock, 24/7. Not Congress, not The People, and, Lord knows, not Twitter, itself. It may take generations to recover from such a traumatic, incessant, daily assault on our senses, on the Truth, and our world as a whole. And, for providing our unhinged POTUS a soapbox free of consequences, Twitter’s role cannot be understated.

Imagine, for a minute, how much better things would be if they actually held the president to the same standards as the rest of us? Imagine if Trump’s Twitter account had been suspended for violating their terms early on? Even for a week. Not only would it have made him think twice before he attacks another private citizen/company, or out a whistleblower, imagine what an amazing week that would’ve been? Free of hate, free of malice and misleading proclamations and declarations being spewed out and blasted at us from the most powerful man on earth, every five minutes, like the spigot of a piping hot sprinkler of hate on a sweltering summer’s day? One can dream.

Til then, perhaps a massive class action suit against Twitter by thousands of users who were suspended/kicked off/banned for the same things the president does on a daily basis would wake them and/or Congress up? Even if it’s not winnable, watching their stock drop a dozen points due to such an egregious pr gaff would make any company rethink its relationship with its users, and the public. Feel free to email me - [email protected] if you’re interested in joining the suit. When combined, we ‘snowflakes’ form an avalanche.

Social media has become the primary way of communication for 99% of modern society - not to mention a trillion dollar behemoth that’s virtually unregulated. It’s about time these Titans of Text were held accountable to their users, from whom, they generate one hundred percent of their value. Til then, keep a look out for my fifth Twitter profile. #RESIST

(UPDATE: 5/26/20 After nearly four years and twenty-thousand lies, it's good to see Twitter finally decided, to put a 'disclaimer' on ONE of orange idiot's ridiculous tweets and hold him to the same standards as the rest of us. (wink). #Babysteps

Twitter also suspended my account, yet again, this past weekend for comparing White House press sec and houseplant, Kayleigh McEnany to the cliche bimbo at the opening of a slasher movie. The Thought Police claim, by saying an empty-headed bimbo who walks right into a machete has more credibility than McEnany, I’m “promoting violence.” Also, trying to fill out the “Appeal Box”- which, as stated above, as all but useless, would be a bit more fair if you were given more than a twenty character limit to state your case.

But my main point above, re: in lieu of a class action, public pressure can force Twitter and/or Congress to do the right thing and apply their policies equally, no matter the individual’s status, was just proven to work. In fact, IMO the leader of the free world should be held to a higher standards than the rest of us. Nonetheless, Twitter finally bowed to pressure due to all of us screaming bloody murder. Keep it up, folks.

#Trump Twitter Facebook SocialMedia Instagram Russia Ukraine Hacking

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renaroo · 7 years

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Double Time (22/24)

Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and related characters are the property of Rooster Teeth. Warnings: Language, Canon-typical violence Pairings: Tuckington, Chex Rating: T Synopsis: [Hero Time Sequel] After the events of Hero Time, the city and Blood Gulch are prepared for the true return of superheroes in a big way. But while Washington is attempting to adjust to a new relationship and a new living arrangement, the call of new heroes and a new mayor mean major changes for his professional life as well as his personal one. How will the balance of values fare when his new partners come to test everything he’s made of.

A/N: Oh my gosh we’re so close to the end it’s almost stifling. But... I need to make things clear. When I was writing this chapter the Charlottesville protests and riots were taking place and... it cautioned me toward publishing this chapter so close to it because while I had drafted out this story back last summer, well before even the election, the coincidences in parallels between the villains’ motivations and the movements that are sweeping across America are hard for me to not address. I believe satire is a tool of ridicule, and I think history’s greatest monsters -- which I shouldn’t have to clarify are the Nazis and the KKK -- are therefore the objects of such satire because it removes their power. It removes their attempts at reclaiming certain speech and certain iconography. A smarter person than me on the subject has pointed out how nationalism and fascism cannot survive satire -- which is why media was controlled by the Nazi regime in Germany, and it’s why lampoons like Mel Brook’s The Producers and Blazing Saddles are not reclaimed by the current fascists while other characters and songs from more dramatic portrayals like American History X and even Inglorious Basterds have.

I’m not trying to be self-important. I’m a nobody fanfic writer who has been blessed with the amount of readers who I have had read to this point in this small story that is a soft romantic comedy of errors. It’s imperfect and in many ways impractical, but the satire here toward Nazism and fascism, and the parallels between the villains of this story and those ideologies are purposeful because I want to use my spite toward those ideologies for something that can be damning in satire. And any failure this chapter and the ones leading to it have had in not making that as clear as possible are entirely on me. And I would appreciate the rightfully made criticism of it as a result.

This may seem like an unnecessary author’s note to make 22 chapters into a 24 chapter story, but it was the only way I could feel right on any level publishing the chapter given the current events.

I hope that that is a clear statement and an understandable one. And I hope that moving forward we can all hope for a better outlook for tomorrow by fighting back with any tools we have. Even if those tools are silly, nonsense superhero parodies made with love.

And as always, a special thanks to @analiarvb, @secretlystephaniebrown, NinjaAtticus, @the-space-nerd-97, @icefrozenover, and @washingtonstub for the feedback and support!

Dangerous When Cornered

“How confident are you in this plan actually working?” Carolina asked as she stood beside Washington, looking up to the large skyscraper decked out in solid gold. “I’m not attempting to undermine, it’s just that I don’t really remember you taking charge very often in Freelancer. As in I don’t remember you taking charge at… well, at all. And suddenly you’re leading a battalion of superheroes who barely know what they’re doing.”

Washington glanced toward her before looking back to the building. “Well, to be completely honest with you I barely remember you being a part of Freelancer and you were apparently our leader so… Our confused confidence is about equal.”

“Ouch, alright then,” she said before a flash of blue sped past them and blew the wind through Wash’s hair as he stood where they had been on the sidewalk.

He was beginning to think he didn’t like speedsters. But it was all according to plan. Sort of.

Turning around, Washington faced the gathered group — the Reds, the teenagers, Tucker for reasons beyond Wash’s own machinations, Tex, and Tex’s motorcycle which she looked far too cool leaning back against. Wash wouldn’t have been able to pull that off if he tried. Maybe his next costume update could use a jacket.

Focus,” Wash admonished himself before walking over to everyone. “I have Carolina scouting the perimeter and giving us a good estimate of where we can go to press our advantage on Locus, Felix, and their financial backer. Given what Kimball and Doyle told us, the police will stay back to give us the element of surprise and help the clean up afterwards.”

“Fuck, you didn’t mention police, Wash!” Grif growled, looking around warily. “We’re not exactly the cleanest guys outside of Blood Gulch, if you get what I mean.”

“I’m squeaky clean outside of home,” Simmons argued. “I’m a librarian!”

“Dagnabit, Grif! We don’t care about your poor hygiene! In fact, quite the opposite! I anti-care about how long it’s been since the last time we took you outside the garage and hosed you down with a smattering of dishwashing soap,” Sarge announced loudly. “But one thing I can say for certain is that sure as this suit may be Red, I won’t allow for you to take our moment of shining glory with the Big Timers away from us! This is what I’ve always wanted since retirement! I mean. We. What we have always wanted.”

“For favor,” Lopez huffed angrily.

“Thanks, Sarge. I think,” Wash remarked in confusion before looking back to everyone else. “Tex, did you do what I asked—“

“I did it, but it wasn’t because you asked,” Tex snapped. “It’s because I owed a favor to Tucker.”

“Don’t use real names while we’re here,” Wash hissed.

“Oh! Does that mean I get to go by my codename?” Donut called out. “Double-Oh-Donut! Finally!”

Tucker looked at Wash win an expression that could only be described as not entirely impressed. “Yeah, Wash. We got it done. As stupid of an idea as it might be.”

“Your love and support means enough to me even if you being here and putting everything I care about in direct risk again after I almost lost it all might cause a slight aneurysm in the next half hour,” Washington replied.

“Oh, for fucksake, can you save the kissing ass until after we successfully complete our first mission?” Bitters demanded.

“It’s so exciting!” Jensen beamed.

“It should be pants-shittingly terrifying,” Washington corrected them. “This isn’t a simulation, this isn’t a game. This isn’t a training exercise where the only consequences are community service and spending a few hours being yelled at by me.”

“Ugh, it can only be better than that,” Palomo groaned.

“No, it’s not better. It’s far worse,” Wash said sternly, getting the teenagers’ attention almost immediately. “We’re about to face other super powered people. Very, very strong super powered people who are villains. You could even call them super villains.”

Andersmith leaned toward the other teens. “Perfect timing for a dramatic pause. I knew we were being trained by a true professional!”

“They aren’t going to hesitate to kill you,” Wash snapped. “And, to be honest, I can’t even assure you that any of you are ready for this level of crime fighting. Quite the opposite. I think you’re ill prepared and have not a single bit of experience or ingenuity to really work your way out of what’s to come.”

“Wow, so this pep talk’s going great,” Bitters scoffed.

“But you’re here because you — all four of you — have said to me that you want to be superheroes,” Wash continued. “And to be honest, all of you…” he paused, looking at Palomo sparkling, “…most of you have powers that would put mine to shame. I’m asking you to help, making you part of the plan because I believe that it can’t be done without you.”

They all stared at him.

“Wow,” Jensen gasped. “That’s the most inspiring thing anyone’s ever said to me!”

“Really?” Tucker asked critically.

“Must have a low threshold,” Tex shrugged at him.

“Hey, where’s our pep talk?” Simmons whined.

Washington looked at the Reds for a good, long minute and then shrugged. “We all make it out of this alive, I’ll stop blackmailing you do civil service stuff and instead we’ll just, I don’t know, call it square? You can fight crime or injustice or whatever it is you tell yourselves on your own time.”

“Fuck,” Grif laughed. “Good enough for me, don’t know about you guys.”

Tex’s head tilted. “Where’s mine, Mister Man?” she asked sarcastically.

“Tex, you get to punch things,” Wash answered.

She snapped her fingers in feigned surprise. “Fuck, you know me so well,” Tex smirked.

“Okay, is everyone settled finally?” Wash asked.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the wind beat against his back and Carolina reappeared by his side with a schematic in hand. “Here, drew this along the way. It’s kind of like a platformer, the final boss is on the top floor with his two goons.”

Wash looked at her, mildly concerned. “Do we have to fight our way through each floor? Are there ninjas involved? There’s always ninjas,” he muttered.

“I mean, we could,” Carolina shrugged. “But I think the quickest route is to take the elevator straight up.”

Pausing his looking over the schematic, Wash glanced at her. “What? Seriously?”

“Mhmm,” Carolina nodded. “Did it four times just to make sure. Ugh. It was so slow..”

“O…kay then,” Wash folded the schematic up and looked to the gathered team. “Everyone? To the elevator.”

As everyone rushed forward and ignored the receptionist who seemed rather miffed at the influx of people in tights, Washington hung back just a moment until it was just him, Tucker, and Junior standing on the sidewalk. They stared at each other for a long moment before Wash coughed into his fist to clear his throat. “I—“

“You want me to wait with Junior,” Tucker answered.

“Last time you were there for a big climactic battle we both ended up in a hospital,” Wash reminded him awkwardly. “And you were only involved with my superhero bullshit because Junior was at risk. And. Well. Today he’s… out here. With you. Safe. And I’d prefer to keep things that way.”

Tucker rolled his eyes but he wasn’t arguing, and that in itself made Wash breathe a little easier. “You’re so predictable.”

“Hate the tropes, not the hero,” Wash joked back.

Junior looked between them, the ridges over his eyes raised expectantly.

Tucker looked at Wash again, a little more warily, a little more nervous. “Did you… Earlier. You said you figured out the problem, that you figured out what we were super fucking bad at saying to each other. Y’know. The family shit.”

“Yeah?” Wash asked, tilting his head.

“Well… I mean… did you mean it?” Tucker asked.

Washington stared at his boyfriend for a good long moment. “That I love you? That I love having a family? That I love that I have something other than the city itself as a reason to go home safe every night? Absolutely I mean it. I mean every damn word of it.”

“Okay,” Tucker said with a fond exhale of air as he smirked at Wash.

“Okay,” Wash replied with a gentle smile of his own.

“Cool,” Tucker continued.

“Really cool,” Wash challenged.

They stood there, equally matched for a moment before Wash glanced toward the building and the sight of Tex about to punch the elevator’s open door button in frustration.

“Yeah, I really don’t have time to keep putting this off so you win,” Wash admitted to Tucker.

“Of course I do,” Tucker replied before grabbing Wash by the shoulders and pulling him down for a kiss.

While surprised at first, Washington nearly melted into the warmth of the gesture, wrapping his own arms around Tucker again and only pulling away to rest their foreheads against one another.

“Please stay safe, both of you,” Washington urged.

“No worries, I called Caboose and Church like you asked. They should be here any minute with my car,” Tucker answered, as if that was the sort of answer that would have given Washington any relief whatsoever.

“Great,” he forced himself to say.

They reluctantly parted, Washington taking a deep breath before pushing forward through the gaudy building’s doors and straight to the elevator.

“For the record, that took fucking forever,” Tex announced as Wash entered the elevator and she finally was able to punch the button to the top floor. “Carolina already ditched us and went up the stairs.”

“I was having a moment,” Wash answered, crossing his arms as he stood as close to the elevator doors as he dared get, everyone else crammed in the machine like sardines.

“We know,” the entire elevator replied.

Annoyed, Wash just stared at the digital floor gage and watched as it slowly passed floor by floor.

“How tall is this building again?” he asked curiously.

“Seventy-two floors, according to these schematics Miss Carolina got us,” Jensen replied, a rustling of paper could be heard in the main back.

For a moment, Washington just nodded to the news and then paused as he glanced at the large panel of elevator buttons again. He then looked over his shoulder suspiciously.

“It says seventy-five,” he informed them all.

“Yes, but if you notice, there’s nine rows of eight buttons. Which simple multiplication would tell you is seventy-two,” Simmons’ voice piped up.

“So they lied about three floors?” Tex scoffed.

“They don’t have six, thirteen, or thirty-three listed,” Grif pointed out. “Must be superstitious.”

“Must be liars,” Wash growled, putting his hands on his hips as he went back to watching the floor gage rise. “And I don’t think the world needs more liars.”

They all fell quiet for another three floors before Wash glanced over to Tex who had her arms crossed and was glaring at him.

“What? Was that too corny?” he asked.

“I feel like my cool factor will suffocate in this elevator before we get to the top,” Tex replied. “And you’re not helping.”

They fall silent again and go back to looking at the floor gage.

Once they reach the sixties, there’s an audible sigh across the elevator.

“This was not the bombastic lead up to this confrontation I was expecting,” Washington admitted reluctantly.

There was a grumble of agreeable noises that might have, under other circumstances, been a good thing but at that moment fell a little flat for Washington. He was ready for the elevator ride to be over and he was certain everyone else was, too, given how many elbows were being thrown and distressed whispers echoing about.

“Does everyone remember the plan?” Washington asked on floor seventy.

“Yes,” most murmured.

“There was a plan?” Palomo squawked.

Washington opened his mouth to address Palomo’s ignorance but didn’t have time, as the elevator doors opened and immediately a small, glowing ball of kinetic energy rolled toward them. “Everyone—“ Wash began to shout only for there to be a zoom of air past them all, fast enough to cause ears to pop, and the object was gone.

Everyone looked toward the large bay windows just outside the elevator where there was a gigantic explosion followed by another flash of blue.

Carolina stood, not even winded, before them. Her arms were crossed cockily. “What? You think I was watching from the shadows all this time and I hadn’t learned out to deal with these situations? A girl could get offended.”

“Nice!” Donut chirped up from the back.

A slow clapping drew everyone’s attention away from the moment of accomplishment from Carolina and toward the end of the long hallway where Felix and Locus stood between the group of heroes and the door to their financial backer. Locus stood silent and menacing, but Felix continued the clapping.

“Well then, it looks like our favorite cheaters made it to the top of the tower. Just to meet their demises all the same,” Felix hissed darkly.

“Dude, if you honestly expected people to fight their entire way up a seventy-two floor building just because you filled it with traps and ninjas when an elevator’s right there, your evil plans could use some work,” Grif retorted.

“It should be noted that while the Red Dead Blood Gulch Gang are notably recovered villains, there’s nothing in our verbal contracts to Washington that involves us not working as Evil Consultants,” Simmons added.

“Yeah, we start at two hundred dollars an hour, and the clock started with the first suggestion,” Grif continued. “If you want us to use stairs, don’t put a goddamn elevator right in front of us.”

“Shut up!” Felix snarled. “I’m not talking to you… you powerless, useless nothings.” He focused his gaze back on Washington, Tex, and Carolina. “I’m talking about the cheaters who aren’t playing by the rules because they don’t want to be tested, they don’t want to unleash their real potential.”

Having heard enough, Washington stepped toward Felix. “I don’t care about your approval, Felix. I never did. But I especially don’t care for it after you tried to put my boyfriend — tried to put my partner, who I have a family with, that I value very much — in a giant blender to try to kill him.”

Carolina looked Wash over. “Was… What happened to your speaking ability? Did you have a stroke or was that just pure corn?”

“It’s compulsory gay,” Tex clarified for them. “Wash just figured out the guy he’s been sleeping with is his boyfriend. I’ll catch you up on it… Honestly, never. I don’t really care that much about their relationship anymore because Washington sucked up all the caring for it within a hundred mile radius.”

Wash glared at Tex and motioned toward the obvious villains in front of them. “Can we police my PDA at some other time?”

“I, for one, am very curious about how compulsory Washington’s gay is!” Donut called again from the back.

“Shut up already!” Felix roared. “I am sick and tired of your oblivious bullshit routine! You obviously didn’t hear me the first time around, so let me make it crystal fucking clear to you that we’re just the beginning of a brand new enterprise here — a new stage of evolution for all of humanity, and no matter how much you whine and how much you play the world’s lovable idiots, you’re the ones that history is going to be remember as trying to keep our new humanity left behind!”

Locus turned just slightly enough toward Felix to be obviously glaring at him even behind his eyeless mask. “Felix,” he said in warning.

“No, shut the fuck up,” Felix snapped. “You’re not the most powerful one around anymore, Locus. I am. And I’m going to keep these idiots in their goddamn places.”

Tex visibly bristled. “Hold the hell up! Who’s the strongest?”

Everyone else in the elevator other than Carolina slowly sidestepped from Tex at the same time.

Felix seemed to be more taken aback by the challenge in Tex’s voice than anything else, but he quickly smoothed out his expression and turned just enough toward Locus to clear his throat and stage whisper, “Say, uh, I think those two just volunteered to take you on.”

“Two on one?” Locus said in a blood curdling low voice. “It’s the closest to a fair fight I’ve had in a long time.”

Without further warning, Tex turned invisible and Carolina zipped off at such high speeds that she was nothing but a blur of motion to the rest of them. But, of course, Locus did his disappearing trick as well.

“The best battle of them all and we’re not even going to see it!?” Sarge bellowed. “What a cop out! This is an absolute outrage!”

“Sarge!” Wash snapped. “Keep on task! Reds! Kids! Flank sides, Felix is mine!”

“Right!” everyone agreed at once before barreling out of the elevator in their designated spots while Washington raced forward, pulling throwing knives from his belt as he lunged for Felix.

When he saw what was happening, Felix let out an actual laugh. “You’re going to try and flank me? Me? You couldn’t even take me head on! You ran like the little pussy cat you are, Washington! Ran to your little boyfriend!”

With an aggressive growl, Wash threw the four knives in his right hand right for Felix’s head, which a psionic shield deflected almost immediately. It only served to make Felix’s smile widen.

“Wow, you really can’t teach an old cat new tricks. Seriously, Wash, when are you going to learn that you’re simply outclassed by the rest of our superior species?” he chuckled with a shake of his head. “Ah, well, it’s like they say,” he continued manically, raising his hands as the thrown knives lifted up telekinetically and turned to face Washington. “Survival of the fittest!”

Washington slid to a halt just before the blades were sent hurdling through the air at him. It was a simple enough leap over the arc of the blades, and he was fully prepared for a twist and pivot — certain that Felix would have foreseen Wash’s moves coming and adjusted for them. But to his surprise, they continued on their path. And once Wash landed, facing where he had just stood, he suddenly saw why.

Immediately, Wash’s heart sunk.

“W-Wash,” Tucker choked out, torso already gushing with the throwing knives — Wash’s throwing knives — sticking out of him.

“Tucker,” Wash gasped before screwing his eyes shut and grabbing at his hair. He tried to focus on the tangible sensation. “No. No. Remember it’s part of the plan…”

“Plan? Is it part of your plan to watch everything you betrayed your powers for go up in flames? All because of your own fault?” Felix mocked, walking forward with pure malice in his expression.

Washington wasted no time in turning on his heels and tossing another set of knives Felix’s way, ignoring Tucker’s voice “Wash, stop! Help!”

“Who would have thought you were so heartless, Washington,” Felix continued, stopping the knives midair again. He smirked, sweat trickling down his brows. “I’m almost impressed.”

“Impressed with what, dickbag?” Grif cried out first.

“Your costume sucks! And your colors don’t match!” Simmons joined from his corner of the room.

“Your complexion truly leaves something to be desired!” Donut called.

“And I’d say you fight like a little bitch, but considering everyone here knows that our little bitches are whipping your teammate’s ass, I don’t want to inadvertently compliment you with an outdated phrase!” Sarge hollered. “So you suck!”

“Lo que ellos dicen,” Lopez yelled flatly.

Felix took his gaze off of Washington for a moment to look around the room, growling as he saw he was surrounded by the dissenting voices. “What is this? What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Do you think I could ever remotely care about your opinions? You… you normies!”

“Thing is, Felix,” Wash said, slowly getting to his feet, “I think opinions matter a hell of a lot to you. And I think it’s harder for your ego to not hear insults that ring true than it is for you to continue making the illusions that give you the upper edge. Especially if we distract you and force you to use multiple powers at the same time.”

Before Felix could respond, a thick black smog began to build up around him. Wind from a newly opened window made sure it gusted into Felix’s face directly as Bitters stood in front of it, full body smoldering hot. “Eat carbon dioxide, asshole!” Bitters commanded.

Felix forcibly coughed a few times before shaking his head and surrounding himself with a tighter, more visible shield. “You can’t break me with some stupid insults and your lame ass cat powers, Washington! My powers are beyond you! Beyond all of you!”

“Maybe,” Wash admitted. “But they’re not beyond all of us when we’re working together, right, Andersmith?”

“What?” Felix got out before glancing over his shoulder just in time for Andersmith, his metallic skin shielding over his normal body, began hammering into the psionic shield. Immediately it began cracking under the stress, letting more smog through to Felix, causing him to cough.

“Wash, that speech was fucking lame, man!” Grif yelled out.

“Grif! We’re supposed to be demoralizing Felix now! Not Wash! That can wait until later,” Simmons reminded him.

“Oh, right,” Grif replied before cupping his hands and shouting, “I wear orange better than you, motherfucker!”

Palomo somersaulted to get right in front of Felix and wave jazz hands before giving off a flurry of sparkler-grade mini explosions off his skin. “Aaaaaand sparkle!”

“Fuck off!” Felix screeched, causing the shield around him to burst out in a wave of energy, knocking into everyone in the hallway. He clasped his hands on his knees and gasped for air as everyone else tried to gather their senses.

Everyone save for Washington. Palomo had been between him and Felix — fortunately for Washington, not so fortunately for Palomo.

“Felix,” Wash said, walking over to the super villain just before grabbing him by the nape of his costume. “Never threaten my family again.”

The punch Wash clocked Felix with was loud enough for an audible crack, sending the unconscious super villain to the floor in a heap. And making Washington regret his life choices immediately because that was his good hand and he was fairly sure that popped a few of his knuckles.

Just for his frizzled nerves, Wash turned around and looked directly to where the illusion of Tucker, injured and bleeding, had been before. And despite himself, Washington felt an immediate wave of relief when there was no such sight to be found with the psychic completely out.

There was a large thunk which turned Wash’s attention back to the matters at hand. Which happened to include Carolina and Tex throwing Locus’ body next to Felix.

“Did it honestly take all of you to put one down?” Tex demanded. “What babies.”

“And our fight was invisible,” Carolina reminded them, arms crossed.

“Not all of us,” Wash argued. “Remember the plan, Jensen’s ahead of us—“

The large golden doors at the end of the hall opened and revealed Jensen sitting in a chair, rather ludicrously tied up, while a tall, wrinkled, potato looking bald man with a sleazy looking ascot stood behind her.

“And what was it that the young Miss Jensen was meant to evoke, Mister Washington?” the man asked curiously. “I do believe that whatever it had been, it must have failed for, you see, no plan survives contact with the enemy, as General Erwin Rommel once said.”

Washington’s nose curled. “Are you quoting a literal Nazi?”

“Holy shit, what an utter douchebag, he’s definitely the main asshole of the assholes,” Grif added.

“Forget all that, he has Katie!” Palomo cried out.

“She’s fine for now, and will continue to remain fine so long as Mister Washington and I can have a civil chat,” the man continued, a small smile appearing on his wrinkled face. “And civil chats often require less distance between us.”

“Stand down,” Washington ordered everyone around him before slowly walking forward. “You’re Malcolm Hargrove, I assume.”

“You assume correctly,” Hargrove replied, brows raised. “Though, I must confess, that surprises me. I go through great lengths to keep my name private.”

“Yet you have the biggest building in the best part of the city and wrapped it up in gold,” Wash pointed out. “And you flashily made a big production of your two lackeys spewing your superior race rhetoric in front of the whole city. My boyfriend would say that you’re trying to compensate for something there.”

Hargrove did not seem particularly amused by the rhetoric. “And you believe that my bodyguards were acting out on behalf of some of my beliefs? That I would deign to believe in a superiority of those gifted with powers over those who are not? Do you even know what my powers are before you cast judgment?”

“Is it really necessary?” Wash asked, standing just inside the door to the extravagant, technology filled office.

“It’s simply everything,” Hargrove insisted, lifting his hands, eyes aglow. “You see, my abilities manifested late in life. Well after I struggled among mere humans, succeeded among them. It was not until other powered beings began to surface that I was able to unlock my own power. The power to enhance the abilities of other powered individuals. To make them better, stronger — more useful.” He lowered his hands, eyes returning to normal. “Of course, when I attempted to give power to those without our genetic evolution, it simply did not work. Their destinies were fixed, whereas ours were only unlocking. And after alien races began to threaten our world with their superior anatomy and technology, I knew there could only be one way to see to it that humanity survived.”

Wash was close enough to the office to see how advanced the tech was — not simply advanced, but how alien it was. And how familiar the retrofitting of it made it all seem. “You… were the one supplying those pods to Omega and Wyoming a few months ago,” Wash realized out loud. “You were still performing experiments, in Blood Gulch.”

“Where none of my experiments would be missed, yes,” Hargrove huffed. “Especially when it was so politically unimportant during an important, and seemingly unending mayoral election.”

“Prolonging bureaucracy! Absolutely diabolical!” Sarge howled from the back.

“But you don’t have powers of your own, you just enhance others,” Wash clarified, ignoring the rest of his team. “That’s why you had Felix and Locus with their whole charade.”

“I find that the greatest of our species are those who best utilize the tools they have,” Hargrove conceded. “It’s partially why I’ve come to admire you, Mister Washington. You have so little in the way of ability and yet here you are, not only facing me but leading a battalion of our fellow superior species.”

“Holy shit, someone shut him up. This race superiority bullshit is giving me fucking hives!” Grif demanded.

“Yeah, Wash, just punch him, he doesn’t have powers,” Simmons begged.

“He has power, it’s influence,” Wash contested, not taking his eyes off Hargrove. “And he has lots of wealth. Which is why, I imagine, Tex and Carolina were working to hack your systems for so long.” He smirked. “Fortunately, we found a shortcut.”

Hargrove raised a brow only to be caught off guard when all the computers surrounding him began to light up with a single, blue symbol — α. “What is this?” he turned and glared furiously at Washington. “What have you done!?”

“We have a friend who is very good with computers, but he needed to be closer to your servers for some one-on-one contact with it,” Carolina smirked, crossing her arms.

“Luckily, my boyfriend let him borrow a car,” Wash grinned. “And now that he has control of your system, he can finish what Tex was having him work on for the past few weeks while I was busy chasing my own tail: taking away a chunk of your influence and power — hitting you wear it hurts. The gold in your pockets.”

“Ha! Try to keep up the taxes on this giant golden phallic symbol now!” Donut hooted. He then paused and tilted his head. “Speaking of which… Does anyone else notice his head—“

“DONUT!”

“You can’t do this!” Hargrove snarled. “I won’t let you. I have evidence of your tampering — I’ll have you arrested at once—“

“About that,” Jensen finally spoke up, revealing she had untied her own ropes. “You didn’t really ask me about my powers, Mister Hargrove.” She then looked to Washington.

“Do it, Jensen,” he nodded.

She let out a huff and then lunged her body forward, throwing her arms out as she did so — a pulse unleashed from her so large that it hit every corner of the room, and with it every electronic blew circuits, spewing sparks all around Jensen and Hargrove. She then grinned at Hargrove, showing off her currently plastic retainer. “I’m kinda like a magnet!”

“This isn’t… you can’t!” Hargrove choked out angrily.

“Can and have,” Wash assured him.

In the midst of their triumph, however, there was a sound of something rolling. Washington looked down to the floor of the office and saw a pulsing small orb of kinetic energy. “What the—“ he looked back up to Hargrove just in time for Locus to make himself — and Felix thrown over his shoulders — visible. “Locus!”

“This is far from the end of things, Washington,” Locus said darkly. “You are a threat I will not avoid taking head on again.”

At that, Locus grabbed Hargrove and disappeared again, moments before the orb began its signature light show.

“Jensen!” Wash yelled, grabbing her by the wrists and flinging her back into the hallway. “Everyone! Run—“

The explosion went off and Wash could only see white.

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mcmansionhell · 5 years

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50 States of McMansion Hell: Campbell County, Wyoming

Howdy, folks! It’s time for us to go home, (big, ugly) home on the range. That’s right: It’s time for Wyoming. Now, when I think Wyoming, I think of rolling hills, ranches, incredible landscapes, and also that book about cowgirls that Dick Cheney’s wife wrote.

On that note:

This beautiful 5 bed/4.5 bath 6,000 square foot house was built in 2002. It can be all yours for around $700,000 USD.

Let’s mosey on down through this here estate.

Divorce Lawyer Foyer/Living Room

Now, I’ve been an architecture enthusiast for about a decade of my short, two and a half decade life and never have I seen something as both absurd and patently useless as whatever the hell that thing separating the foyer and the living room is. Does it have a structural purpose? No. Does it have an aesthetic purpose? Also no.

Kitchen

(Running for president voice) “Folks, when I become president, I assure you that the injustice - the absolute tyranny - that is the island stovetop/wall oven combo will finally–” (crowd cheering) “– and I mean finally, be put deep into the ground where it belongs.”

Dining Room

The aged bronze chandeliers must have been on ultra clearance. Personally, as someone who loves a good deal, I cannot shame them for this.

Master Bedroom

What I can’t determine is what they were going for with the sponge paint on the walls. My closest approximation is tree bark, in which case what we see before us in fact is deeply offensive to the trees, who are innocent and don’t deserved to be involved in any of this.

Master Bathroom

I don’t care how nostalgic we as a culture get for the late nineties/early aughts, sponge paint should never come back. One, it’s sponge paint. Two, it is ridiculously labor intensive and frankly we could all be spending our last few years on this still-habitable earth doing something more worthwhile with our time, such as going outside or falling in love or destroying our brains on the internet.

You are seriously not ready for this

When making this picture I realized I desperately need to log off.

Bathroom 2

Computer, enhance.

Ok but you can’t even read that in the shower. If you’re that desperate for prophetic, non-digital bathroom reading material, buy a bottle of Dr. Bronners or, like, a copy of War and Peace.

Basement

Poor Little Julie. :(

Well, that wraps up our interior. Now, for the final frontier, on the frontier:

Rear Exterior

Somehow this house looks more like it’s made out of cardboard than the many, many houses on this blog that also look like they’re made out of cardboard.

Anyways, that does it for Wyoming! Stay tuned for next week’s Brutalism Post, Part II: What Brutalism is Not. Have a great weekend, folks.

If you like this post, and want to see more like it, consider supporting me on Patreon, ESPECIALLY if you also like donoteat01′s content on YouTube, because we will be doing a livestream collab on Patreon on August 25th, 2019 from 8-10PM EST!!!

There is a whole new slate of Patreon rewards, including Good House of the Week, Crowdcast streaming, and bonus essays!

Not into recurring donations or bonus content? Consider the tip jar! Or,Check out the McMansion Hell Store ! 100% of the proceeds from the McMansion Hell store go to charity!

#architecture #design #mcmansion #mcmansions #bad architecture #ugly houses #interior design #2000s

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umassdillustrationclub · 5 years

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Illustration Article 04: Political/Revolutionary Art (Various Artists)

Disclaimer: The Norman Rockwell illustration has been partially censored for a racial slur. The uncensored image can be found via search engine.

Political art can be used to counteract messages that come from politicians, news outlets, or ideologies that the artist deems to be corrupt, immoral, or dishonest. I perceive “political art” to be an umbrella term, where the topic is not exclusively political, but can be anything that the political sphere interacts with. This can include global-scale decisions such as war, influences on society such as consumerism, or the government’s action (or inaction) towards social issues. The artist can be critical towards specific individuals, ideas, or events; alternatively, they can criticize society at large, challenging the viewer to shift from complacency to active awareness and individuality.

Political art may reach mainstream status, but they almost always start as underground icons, implementing small-scale means of promotion and distribution. An example of this would be the zine Riot Grrrl, which began in 1991 by Molly Neuman and Allison Wolfe. The growing popularity of the zine propelled the title “Riot Grrrl” to be associated with the feminist movement. This example also demonstrates how political art can be intertwined with large fields of activism.

Banksy is a graffiti artist who has established a unique perspective on social and political issues, both through the medium of street art and through combining bold imagery with satirical framing. Much of his pieces contain ideas and imagery that can be understood universally—addressing the general problems of poverty, discrimination, and corruption. This first example is composed of three layers: first is the neat text that displays a common (but cynical) saying. The next layer is the crossed-out “truth” and replacement with “politics”, in red, messy handwriting. The last layer is revealing the writer of the altered text: a small girl, standing on her tiptoes to write the new statement. The message can be understood without the girl present, but Banksy plays into contrasting imagery by featuring the innocent, playful connotation of the girl. This image could imply that finding dishonesty in politics is so easy that children could do it.

This next Banksy example comments on the hypocritical nature of certain protestors. The standing man is advocating for peace, while the sitting man is advocating for love. Despite both men supporting positive things, the posing is set as if the “love” man fell down because the “peace” man pushed him over. Because the other man does not advocate for identical purposes (even though they both think in the same direction), the “peace” man sees him as an enemy, and results to very non-peaceful tactics. Making this graffiti art behind a wire fence provides an additional element beyond the wall surface. The interaction seems cut off from the viewer, implying that they’re not able to intervene.

The work of Barbara Kruger (b. 1945) revolves around the contrast of image and text, and how the “speaker” of the text is to be interpreted. The viewer could agree or disagree with the text at face value, but there are undercurrents of sarcasm and irony. Her collages typically consist of strong red or black squares with white text, which puncture the slightly blurred softness of the photograph underneath.

This image presents two works. The leftward piece, I shop therefore I am, is a compositionally simple piece with heavy context of consumerist society. The words are an alteration of a quote by Rene Descartes: “I think, therefore I am”. The phrase is held daintily in someone’s right hand, as if the mantra is something to be revered. The hand, therefore, could represent society’s exaltation of consumerism, and holding this idea with gentle support. The red border and white text is far from gentle, however; the propagandistic nature is obvious to the viewer.

The example on the right is from the perspective of a woman; at first glance, the photograph seems to be a flesh-and-blood human, but it is actually a (possibly marble) statue. The phrase, “Your gaze hits the side of my face”, is obviously spoken by the woman. The mention of “gaze” brings to mind the male gaze; this concept describes the societal roles of men as looking, and women as being looked at. The statue is not just a statue, but a representation of how women are perceived—not just by men, but by other women inheriting the male gaze. The gaze forces beauty and personality standards upon the woman; the gaze “hitting” her face implies violence, making the gaze unwanted and harmful.

In searching for politically-inspired art, I was surprised to see that this piece was made by Norman Rockwell (1894-1978). He is most popular for his editorial and advertisement illustrations—the tone of his work is generally lighthearted and pleasant. But this 1964 piece, The Problems We All Live With, features Rockwell’s clean rendering and clear composition, but within the context of racial inequality and the Civil Rights Movement.

I enjoy this illustration because of how the different elements shed light on both sides of the civil rights debate—those who act for change, and those who harm others to prevent it. This piece is a reference to a 1960 event regarding school desegregation, where six-year-old Ruby Bridges had to be escorted by U.S. marshals on her way to school. Instead of being right in the middle, the girl is moving toward the front marshals, as if to bravely walk ahead. Although faded, one can clearly see the racial slur in between the marshals, and underneath the girl; on the left side, “K.K.K.” is also scrawled into the wall. The threatening words were not written on that day, but rather in the past; this shows the lasting historical undercurrents of racial discrimination.

Animosity toward the girl is not only featured in the past, but the present as well. Notice the tomato that was thrown on the right side. Based on the implied walking pace and height of the tomato splatter, the thrower was obviously aiming for the girls head. This also brings a morbid and violent connotation; the splatter could very well represent blood and death, and how racial violence was inflicted onto demonstrators and bystanders.

#political art #umassdillustrationclub #illustration #illustrator #banksy #norman rockwell #artist #ruby bridges #Barbara kruger #I shop therefore I am #painting #collage #racism #politics #consumerism

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sxix · 7 years

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hey wanna read a fucked up thing about quentin tarantino

first off i don’t care how many people see this post i’m mainly putting it here both to ease my mind bc it stresses me out and also bc sometimes i mention this to people and then they want the full story but i don’t feel like typing it out again

i really don’t know how to introduce this bc it’s gonna sound like a bizarre complex lie and i promise it’s not but this is about how elf (u know the 2003 christmas movie starring will ferrell as buddy the elf and zooey deschanel as a department store elf) was originally directed by quentin tarantino and not jon favreau despite what the movie credits/all of the search results in all of google say

this is an extremely long post because i didn’t want to forget any major details and i’m gonna put a read more here so i don’t clog anyone’s dash read it if u feel like it

to answer the question you probably already have, no i do not have a link to this article or any articles like it you will learn why later but unfortunately if u wanna know what the fuck went down during the filming of elf u have to read through this mess im sorry

so in about 2011/2012 (i was about 13/14 at the time) i was researching behind the scenes production stuff and for whatever reason started focusing on the production of elf and ended up finding an article about how quentin tarantino was the original director of elf and jon favreau was part of the cast (the doctor buddy goes to see w his dad) and generally available on set for advice/assistance bc he had more experience with family friendly comedy and stuff and elf was basically quentin tarantino’s first attempt at branching out into different genres (spoiler alert: it did not go well)

before you ask your second question yes i tried to check and see if the site was satire i know satire sites when i see them but on this site the rest of the articles were perfectly normal and about stuff that had actually happened and most of it i had already seen on more popular news/entertainment sites + i also could not find any disclaimer on the site and usually satire sites will provide a legal disclaimer stating that they are in fact satire

the author did not provide their name or exact occupation (you will understand later) and only claimed to have been part of the production team on elf from the beginning to end of filming so they were present for most of the events that happened during principal photography (aka filming)

according to the source quentin tarantino originally came into the film just trying to diversify his work because pretty much all of it was within the realm of crime thrillers and black comedy (also contained a lot of violence and other not family friendly things)

during pre-production and the very beginning of filming he had to get adjusted to the different atmosphere and was overall pretty optimistic about the decision but as time went on he became progressively less confident and comfortable with his involvement in the movie, basically he felt like it was too much of a change and was never able to become fully comfortable with the new style which was seriously impacting his ability to work on the movie so jon favreau ended up having to completely take over at times because quentin would just show up in a horrible mood and have terrible days of necessarily having meltdowns but pretty much everyone could tell he was really not enjoying directing elf

idk the full details because i am writing this just from my memory of what i read and this part of the original article also didn’t contain too much detail but basically what ended up happening is quentin continued losing interest in being part of elf and a good portion of the way through filming (i think they said it was somewhere around 50-65% however at this point jon did have to step in more often than not) quentin basically gave up and worked out a plan to get his name removed from all of the movie’s records

quentin didn’t receive any of the profits he would’ve made from the film and instead divided his earnings primarily between jon and other higher-ups within in the production but also various less significant members of the production team to help out with salaries as well as a few other things

another part of this deal was that anyone who had been on the production team at any point was allowed to talk about quentin’s involvement, especially to the press because it would defeat the purpose of going through all the trouble to get rid of evidence that he was involved in the film. this is also most likely why whoever wrote this article did not provide their name or exact occupation, however they weren’t really legally bound to that agreement because quentin did not want contracts made or signed to ensure compliance w/the no outside communication rule, he felt like having tons of contracts describing the full situation floating around were bound to end up in the wrong hands at some point

since jon had basically taken over directing at that point he was just promoted to being the director of the film instead and the movie’s records were changed to credit jon as the director throughout all phases of the movie

they weren’t so concerned with with people from the general public who noticed the change in direction because a) members of the general public weren’t usually on set and if they were it was definitely not so they could directly interact with the crew b) at the end of the day it was their word against the official credits of the movie so if someone said they thought quentin was the director it could be attributed to an honest mistake/confusion with his other work***

***this is something the article only briefly mentioned since it was just from the perspective of a member of elf’s production team but i think it’s important to note that kill bill (all filmed together but released as vol1 and vol2) was going through its phases of production and release around the same time as elf

this is important because it’s highly possible quentin felt he was working on too many projects at once or simply decided kill bill was the priority and he didn’t have time for more extraneous work he didn’t enjoy

in my opinion i think kill bill was likely a bigger factor in his decision to leave elf than the elf article’s author let on but they did make it very clear that quentin had agreed/decided to direct elf with the intention to see it through to the end and did not make the final decision to leave the film until after it had obviously become more of a burden than anything

i also think his reasoning for erasing his name from the elf wasn’t just general dislike of the movie but rather not wanting it to get mixed up in his other projects that he was known for and actually confident in/proud of especially considering the release dates for elf and kill bill vol. 1 were just under a month apart

now to explain my lack of source: in the article it does state that quentin did not want his involvement to be available even through news publications and anything that was posted either then or later should be removed as soon as it was found

i have scoured every corner of the internet i can think of several times in attempts to find this article again. i don’t remember the name of the website but even if i did i doubt it would help because i’ve done every different keyword search i can think of and come up with absolutely nothing that even comes close to being the original article i read

my best guess is that quentin and/or one of his publicists found the article made sure it was taken down pretty as quickly as possible

i really don’t know what more i can say about this so here is basically all of the previously mentioned information but in a neater format (if u dont feel u need everything reiterated feel free to scroll all the way to the bottom for some additional info and tldr action)

- an article written by someone from elf’s production team (who did not disclose their identity or exact occupation) submitted an article (that i have not been able to relocate since originally reading it in 2011/2012) talking about quentin tarantino being the original director of elf

- no the site was not satire/fake. since i can’t find it i’m not able to provide specific quotes or examples from the article but the person who wrote it went into much more detail about the changes to quentin’s attitude toward over time. considering satire is generally used to expose/criticize behaviors within politics and social issues, it’s just not likely for this to have been satire since quentin tarantino’s secret identity as a romantic comedy director hasn’t really been an important social issue at any point in history.

- jon favreau, the person who is now the only credited director, was available on set both as a minor cast member but primarily to help quentin out when needed with the transition from his usual style to a more family friendly world

- his purpose for directing elf in the first place was to branch out, partially to see if he even enjoyed working with such a different style but also to see how comfortable he was working with such a limited amount of involvement in comparison to his usual work (on elf he only directed but in most of his previous films he at least directed and wrote, however in some he was in charge of even more than that)

- throughout filming he became increasingly less confident and happy with his decision to direct the movie and ultimately decided to leave the film, pass the position of director off to jon favreau and use the money he would’ve earned to instead pay people within elf’s production team both to help cover their salaries and in exchange for removing his name from any and all stored information as well as keep any mention of quentin that could be linked to elf out of the press

- he opted not receive any money from the production or write up any contracts relating to him leaving the film because he did not want any record of his time with it to be accessible by anyone. because he did not want contracts involved, this meant that no one was legally bound to the agreement not to discuss his time as director of the film. as a result, people were able to write articles like the one i’m describing and not risk prosecution, especially if their identity was not disclosed

- jon favreau was chosen as the director because not only is he an accomplished director who has worked on several movies within the same genres as elf, since he had working on the movie since the beginning there was already documentation of his presence on set and directorial choices he made even before quentin’s departure which would make it harder for people to dispute the claim that he had directed the movie from the beginning

- kill bill was also being filmed/released around the same time as elf so i would not be surprised if quentin also did not want his name to be attached to a movie he didn’t enjoy especially when it was being released within the same month of a movie he did enjoy and feel confident in

- the article this post is about cannot be found. i have tried several times to find it because i know this is a very outlandish piece of information to just randomly have with no sources and that is why i’ve tried to explain it as much as i can from memory and summarize things more than once so i don’t leave anything too important out.

- i am assuming that the article was found by quentin himself or a publicist of his and whenever they found it demanded for it to be taken down immediately

- i promise this was not just a really elaborate dream i had and somehow retained the details of. i haven’t really talked about this much until last summer when one of my friends was talking about pulp fiction and i remembered all of this shit that i guess i had been suppressing for whatever reason.

- when i originally discovered the post, i only kind of understood who quentin tarantino even was/had not actually seen any of his movies so i didn’t realize how signifcant the differences were between his work and elf. while i did think the article sounded really strange/unrealistic and checked to see if it was satire (as i do with very article i read that sounds even partially made up), i wasn’t able to appreciate how surreal all of this was and didn’t care about quentin tarantino enough to share the article with anyone and now it’s gone so that’s why i now get to pass this story along through word of mouth as all stories once were

- u may be thinking “wow, this is a pretty elaborate description and analysis of an article you read maybe a couple times four or five years ago”

- shut the fUck up i did not spend hours writing this post and making sure i remembered all of the important stuff for u to be an idiot i am older now and know more things which means i can comprehend what i remember from the article better than i could the first time i read it so fuck u

- i actually do have very good memory especially when it comes to weird shit like this and i love analyzing things let me have fun and educate u on an important scandal at the same time

- also i really don’t know why this person even came forward and wrote the article since they more than likely knew it was going to be taken down asap and didn’t gain anything from it bc they remained anonymous so ?????

basically just what the fuck

tl;dr quentin tarantino directed elf but quit because he hated it and now whenever he finds an article talking about it he makes them delete it so no one finds out he directed elf also if you tell me im lying after i spent several hours making sure i covered everything and even repeated it all to make sure if i left out an important detail the first time it got included the second time i’ll eat apple seeds until i die of cyanide poisoning

#quentin tarantino #elf #will ferrell #p

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