October 1966. You can't keep a dead butler down. About two years after killing off Alfred the butler in 1964, editor Julius Schwartz was faced with a problem: William Dozier, the producer of the forthcoming Batman TV show, wanted to include Alfred in the show, and wanted him reintroduced into the comics as well! Schwartz and writer Gardner Fox struggled with this challenge and finally came up with the utterly preposterous story presented in the issue above.

Even for a Silver Age Gardner Fox comic book, this story is exceptionally convoluted, so it's best considered chronologically. We begin with a flashback sequence involving iconoclastic "all-around scientific genius" Brandon "Plot Device" Crawford:

This is already straining credulity a little because the story in DETECTIVE COMICS #328 in which Alfred died (helpfully recapped elsewhere in this issue) showed that he had been crushed to death by a giant boulder. That did not seem survivable at all, and even if it were, this would imply that neither Batman and Robin nor whatever doctor who filled out Alfred's death certificate nor the mortician noticed that he wasn't actually dead! Anyway …

So, Alfred wasn't actually dead, he wasn't embalmed, and he was buried in a refrigerated coffin (that's what the purple cylinders in the last panel previous page were for). A stretch, but we'll allow it. However, upon discovering this, Crawford, instead of calling an ambulance like a normal person, seizes on the opportunity to do some Frankenstein shit with Alfred's maimed, broken, mostly dead body, as one does (if one is a reclusive "radical individualist" who dropped out of college to pursue unorthodox, dubiously ethical scientific experiments, I guess).

One of the initial objects of Schwartz's tenure had been to rid the Batman books of the fantastical aliens, monsters, and bizarre transformations of the 1957–1963 period in favor of something a little more grounded. All that goes out the window here, despite the rather defensive editorial footnote, which says:

EDITOR'S NOTE: Physics professor Robert Ettinger, author of "The Prospect of Immortality," has said that death can only be defined in relative terms. He points to the hundreds of persons revived after drowning, asphyxiation, electrocution, and heart attack. "Biological death depends not only on the state of the body," Ettinger says, "but also on the state of medical art!"

Okay, then. On to the Frankenstein shit:

So, Crawford's experimental cell regeneration machine has restored Alfred's broken body, but in the process transformed him into an unrecognizable, rather hideous-looking being who is also evil. Check! The regeneration effect we see Crawford panicking about then transforms him so that he looks like Alfred, while leaving him in "a catatonic trance." The Outsider, rather ungratefully, puts Crawford's unconscious body back in Alfred's coffin to cover his tracks, and uses Crawford's various machines and his own "increased mental power" in his new quest to destroy Batman and Robin.

This was not the first appearance of the Outsider, who had actually been hounding the Dynamic Duo on and off since DETECTIVE COMICS #334 two years earlier, although he had never appeared on-panel, and his identity had been a mystery. Where Schwartz originally intended to take that plotline is not clear (Schwartz's own account doesn't say, and Gardner Fox said later that he didn't think Schwartz had a solution in mind at the outset), but it doesn't seem likely that revealing the Outsider as Alfred was the plan, particularly since subsequent Outsider stories had shown that the villain had superhuman powers, including the ability to bring inanimate objects to life! In this story, the Outsider really does transform Robin into a wooden coffin, as the cover indicates — it's not a hypnotic illusion or some other such dodge. Fortunately, the effect is reversed after the villain is defeated:

Batman's determination to keep these events secret from Alfred is bizarre, since Alfred's death is a matter of public record: As seen in DETECTIVE COMICS #328, Bruce Wayne started a charitable foundation in Alfred's name, with its own building in Gotham City! Batman suggests that they can rename the charity the Wayne Foundation (as of course they subsequently did), but how he expects to resolve the various problems created by Alfred having been legally dead for months without his finding out is unclear. They do take the time to retrieve Crawford (who has miraculously not suffocated or starved to death in Alfred's coffin) and use his machine to return him to normal, after which Batman suggests that Bruce Wayne will give Crawford a job at the renamed foundation.

If you're wondering, "Wait, does this mean Alfred now had super-powers?" the answer is yes! Since he didn't retain any conscious memory of his death and resurrection, he was normally unaware of this, but Alfred's evil Outsider personality resurfaced several times, and he sometimes spontaneously reverted to the Outsider's form, in which he once again had supernatural abilities:

Notice the background, with the buildings burning like candles? The Outsider did that with his mental powers, along with a bunch of less grandiose but equally impossible feats. Fortunately, they reverted to normal after he split into separate good (Alfred) and evil (Outsider) selves and defeated himself. The Outsider resurfaced once more in 1985, battling the Outsiders and nearly killing Superman by transforming the Batcave's giant penny into Green Kryptonite.

I guess this whole saga did resolve the problem of resurrecting Alfred for the TV show, but in what I think can fairly be called the most ludicrous way possible. (And you thought the PENNYWORTH show spun out of GOTHAM was silly …)

Hello Detective Chapter 69

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I know how long it’s been since I posted... I have a lot planned for these next few chapters so I hope it doesn’t take me as long!

(italics are flashbacks)

Any and all feedback is appreciated and encouraged!

Masterlist in bio, taglist in reblog.

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The next month went by in a blur. Sometimes it seemed as if the memories weren’t even real. How could you have so much happiness ripped away from you in a matter of hours? You knew how, there was one man responsible for what was to come. You were happy, it felt like just yesterday you were lying in Sherlock’s bed after John and Mary’s wedding.

“You know we can’t stay in bed all day.” You tilted your head up to Sherlock from its resting position on his chest.

“Why not?” He complained, moving his hands from behind his head. One finding its way onto the small of your bare back.

“Some of us have jobs.” You answered, but he only rolled his eyes.

His other hand found yours, as he brushed his hands gently over your fingers, admiring your ring.

“I don’t want to take it off.” You smiled, following his gaze.

“Then don’t.” He answered simply, bringing your hand to his lips and placing a gentle kiss across your knuckles.

“I’d give Mrs. Hudson a heart attack.” You shook your head at his suggestion. He really wasn’t grasping this whole ‘secret engagement’ thing.

“Well you might be right about that.” He conceded.

“For now it can be our little secret.” You smirked, sitting up in bed and wrapping the sheet around your chest for warmth.

“We might as well just get married then.” Sherlock muttered, pushing up until his back was against the headboard.

“You can’t plan a wedding in a week, Sherlock.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“We could elope. No crowds, no telegrams, no speeches.” He nearly shuttered at the memory.

“No attempted murder.” You reminded him with a smirk, causing him to laugh.

“Just you and me.” He stroked the side of your face.

You considered for a moment what this would mean, and it wasn’t the worst idea in the world.

“Our mothers are going to kill us.” You shook your head with a sigh.

“Is that a yes?” Sherlock asked, surprised you actually were on board with this.

“I don’t want a big wedding, I don’t want to be walked down the aisle. I want you, and that’s enough. It’s a piece of paper.” You shrugged. After all you’ve been through together, you knew you didn’t need a piece of paper to prove your commitment and connection.

Sherlock wrapped his hand around the back of your head, pulling you closer to him until your lips met. Marriage for him was one thing, and he never thought he’d actually be here, with someone he loved and was actually wanting to marry, but a wedding... that was too far. He didn’t need a spectacle, he just needed you.

“I knew I loved you.” He chuckled, shaking his head as you broke apart.

“Well I should hope so. Now move over, I need to shower and go to work.” You playfully shoved him off of you as you tried to climb to the other side of the bed.

“I could join.” He smirked, wrapping his hand around your arm, keeping you in place.

“Come on then... fiance.” You shook your head with a smile.

And elope was exactly what you did. You could still feel the cool spring air whipping around you in your short white business dress as you stepped into the courthouse hand in hand.

“We’re really doing this aren’t we?” You looked up to Sherlock with a nervous smile.

“It would appear so.” He said, squeezing your hand. Was he nervous too?

“There’s still time to back out if you don’t want to do this.” You spoke softly, you wanted him to be happy, and you didn’t want him to do this just because it was something he thought you wanted. You hoped he wanted this too.

“Never.” He smiled, leading you inside the judge’s chambers, calming any fears you may have had.

Knowing your position and both of your occupations would put you both in danger, you both agreed it was best to not tell anyone yet. You made sure that the marriage certificate would remain confidential and redacted for anyone who would try and look it up.

The week before John and Mary were set to return from their honeymoon, the two of you wondered if that was something you had to do. What’s the point of a honeymoon? Or sex holiday as Sherlock so charmingly called it.

“Do we need a honeymoon?” Sherlock asked you abruptly the moment you entered the room, coming home from work. In his hands he was flipping over a postcard that John had sent.

“I have a better idea.” You smirked, holding a file behind your back. What opportune timing he had to ask about a honeymoon.

“What’s that?” Sherlock tilted his head slightly, eyeing what you were hiding.

You took a step towards him, before dropping the file into his lap.

“Triple murder, Inverness.” You spoke, and his eyes lit up. He jumped from his seat, file in hand and kissed you.

“You’re already making a wonderful wife.” He chuckled, kissing you once more before flipping through the details of the case.

His reaction brought a smile to your face. You knew he needed a case, he was going crazy being cooped up in the flat, and you were due for a vacation. Two birds, one stone.

“How exactly did you convince them to give us this case?” He asked, seeing no sort of consultation or jurisdiction transfers in the file.

“I called their police commissioner personally. It took less than five minutes.” You shrugged, and Sherlock was impressed. A slight abuse of power, but to him it was worth it. Besides, with the two of you on the case, the likelihood of finding the killer before someone else gets hurt just went up tenfold.

“And what did you tell Mycroft?” He asked, knowing it would be suspicious if the two of you just went on holiday suddenly to Scotland, after all you were keeping this whole marriage on a need to know basis. He was also technically your boss, and you’d need a good reason to skip out on work and cash in a few vacation days.

“That the Scottish Highlands police commissioner begged you to take the trip, and I’ve never been, so I just had to tag along.” You spoke just as innocently as you had when explaining to Mycroft that you’d be back in a few days.

“You’ve got him wrapped around your finger don’t you.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“It’s a gift.” You shrug, smiling.

Naturally you two couldn’t just have a quiet, peaceful honeymoon in the Scottish Highlands. No, that would be too ordinary, too mundane. Sure there would be sightseeing, well if that included crime scenes. And of course no Scottish honeymoon is complete without a pub crawl, well maybe a pub brawl. Wrap that all together and sprinkle in a killer just desperate to be caught, and you have the perfect combination for a honeymoon- Sherlock Holmes style. The game was on!

“You said he’d be here.” You looked around the pub carefully, employing the skills you’d learned during your time at MI6.

“Am I ever wrong?” Sherlock said cockily, with the raise of a brow.

You raised your fingers, prepared to count all the times he was in fact very wrong, but he stopped you the moment you opened your mouth.

“Ok don’t answer that.” He said, covering your hand with his.

You smirked in response, knowing you were right.

“All his victims were females that frequented this pub. He meets them here, they take him back to their homes and he dismembers them.” Sherlock explains. Charming subject matter for a honeymoon, but when it came to your lives, were you really surprised?

“Then we’re missing an obvious strategy here.” You said plainly, hoping it would be clear as day to him.  

“And what would that be?” He asks, not understanding your insinuation.

“Bait.” You motion to yourself as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

His eyes go dark for a moment, his jaw clenching in a way you’ve seen a few times before.

“No, absolutely not.” He said in a protective tone.

“Oh come on, no one knows who I am here. We can expedite the process.” You explained, assuring him that everything would be alright.

Sherlock sighed, shaking his head. He knew there would be no convincing you otherwise.

“Fine,” He huffed, standing from his seat next to you and moving to the other side of the room, leaving you alone at the bar. It didn’t take long for you to be approached, just as you expected.

“Well aren’t you a bonnie lass. Let me buy you a drink.” A curly haired man appeared beside you and spoke in a thick Scottish accent.

“Thank you.” You smile sheepishly with a giggle, playing your role of the dumb American.

“American? You’re a far way from home aren’t ya lassie.” He chuckles deeply, thinking you’d be the perfect target... little did he know.

“A little bit.” You giggled as two drinks were placed in front of you. Whiskey, neat.

“Have you been up to Culloden yet?” He pointed out the window in the general location of the historic battle site in an attempt to get you to follow his gaze, so he could drug your drink while you weren’t looking.

“No I haven’t been.” You shook your head, turning back to him, making sure to let your gaze linger on the window for a moment longer. He offered you the drink and you smiled, taking it from his hand. You make sure to keep your lips closed as you take a sip, not ingesting any of the liquid. Hopefully the police could match the drug to the one found in the victims toxicology reports.

“You here all by yourself, lassie?” He asked, smirking as you ‘drank’.

“Well I’m here with you, aren’t I?” You smiled, and he chuckled deeply.

“Good answer.” He almost growled as he went to whisper in your ear and his hand worked its way up your thigh.

“Why don’t we get out of here-” He began to whisper in your ear before he was abruptly ripped off of you. It didn’t take a genius to guess by who.

There were profanities exchanged and punches thrown, as more and more men joined in, some to help a fellow Scot, and some to help ‘defend your honor’. You were able to pull Sherlock away before he got hurt. Bloody knuckles you could handle, but a busted lip or cheek would not make for a happy honeymoon memory.

“I had it under control.” You hissed at him, your hand still wrapped around his arm.

“He drugged you!” Sherlock argued.

“I know!” You yelled back, pointing to the drink at the bar. The man's drink was almost empty and yours had the same amount of liquid as when it was handed to you, even though you appeared to have been sipping on it for a while. He was so focused on the man’s body language and hand on your leg that he’d missed that.

“Oh,” Sherlock muttered as he realized.

Our heads whipped back to the door as three officers and the local detective you’ve been working with walked in. Sherlock must have called them as you were playing dumb. He nodded to the officer and eyed the man the bouncer now had pinned to the wall.

Everyone cleared out soon after that and the two of you stood outside in your coats, watching the police put the man into the back of a police car.

“Are you sure it’s him? I mean, sure he was a little creepy and handsy, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a serial killer.” You said, not that you were defending him, you just wanted to be certain.

“His prints will match the scene, trust me.” Sherlock nodded confidently.

“But how can you be sure?” You tried once more.

“Because I’m Sherlock Holmes.” He smirked and you rolled your eyes, before shaking your head and smiling.

If only things remained that easy, that carefree. If only all of your cases were that cut and dry. A man does something wrong, and he gets caught. He breaks the rules and laws of society, and he faces the consequences. But not all cases have a happy ending. Good doesn’t always defeat evil. Being on the side of the angels doesn’t mean that angels exist. But the devil does, and he walks the earth in the form of Charles Augustus Magnussen.

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Please let me know what you think! Any and all feedback is greatly encouraged. 

Remember to comment or reblog to stay on my taglist!

Hermano👀👀👀 (hopeful for new snippets)

I knew I could rely on you for that #hermanos support ;) Public shaming time asdfasdf I don't have any new snippets, but I do have more or less the whole plot of "Hermano" sketched out in my head. (Lots of spoilers below the cut!)

[ 👉 My Wips ]

It takes place directly after Hermanito AKA when Andres left the hospital 5 min. after waking up. dumbass. So we follow him and Sergio home, and Andres legit tries to act like nothing happened (the vibe: "dear diary, all the fancy restaurants are booked for Christmas parties. Maybe I could take Sergio on a ski trip. It's very hard to find gold-laced wrapping paper in this economy. If I can't find solid gold tissue paper, silver is fine too. I think Sergio would enjoy the imported chocolate I ordered for the holidays--" then in the margins, he goes, "oh yeah, we almost died the other night and I was in a coma for a week but who cares? anyway, presents-")

Andres and Sergio have completely different priorities. Which will be a Project for me because Hermano is from Andres' pov and his brain is something else. Anyway, while Andres is limping around and subconsciously projecting secret childhood trauma onto his preparations for the Perfect Christmas TM with Hermanito, Sergio's like, "hmm you don't look so well, Andres"

Eventually, Andres realizes Sergio's right because his insides shouldn't feel that way and coughing up blood isn't normal. They go to some underground street surgeon to patch him up. And Andres' delusions take a hit x1 when the guy suggests that Sergio's going to grow up to be as fucked up as him if Andres keeps raising him. (btw, no painkillers or anesthetic involved because the dude couldn't afford it LMAO- he'll be like "go buy some ibuprofen after this. I'm gonna start cutting into you now-")

Andres' delusions take a hit x2 when another of the thugs from the last story tracks him down to his shitty apartment like a day after the surgery. Andres manages to kill the guy, but not before almost dying (again). Sergio, unprompted, cleans up the blood and tells Andres how they should get rid of the body. Hit x3. Now Andres realizes maybe his idea of a perfect little life with Sergio isn't so great after all because 1) this is the second time he "failed" to protect his brother 2) maybe he's a terrible influence on Sergio after all 3) his shitty lifestyle just isn't suited for children.

But they spend Christmas together anyway, and it's the best one Andres has ever had even though they didn't get to do anything fancy.

Which is why hit x4 absolutely destroys him. Sergio falls ill again and Andres rushes him to the actual hospital (not the shady surgeon), the one he first met Sergio in. The doctor pretty much guesses Andres' entire life story at first glance and politely tells him, "hmm, I think you're a worthless nobody who's going to die from some fight on the streets. I'm disgusted by your presence already. But your little brother on the other hand, now, that's a young man with a future, if he lives lmao which he won't with you. no offense."

Since Andres has spent his entire life not listening to other people's words and building up his own delusional world, that speech shouldn't affect him. But it does because now it's not about him. It's about Sergio, the one person Andres ever cared about to this extent and the one person that truly, actually loves him back.

So Andres arranges for Sergio to be adopted by a family in Barcelona. Then he tells Sergio he doesn't want him anymore and tries to abandon him at the train station. Sergio, kid genius TM, sees right through him and doesn't get on the train. He and Andres make a really big scene there and cry a lot. Sergio makes it super clear that he's not going to Barcelona and that he wants to stay with Andres. He knows Andres doesn't think it's the best choice, he knows it's not the smartest choice, but it's what he wants. Andres didn't leave him when he had no one, so he's not going to leave Andres when it's the other way around.

The fic ends with the hermanos visiting papa Marquina's grave and Sergio teaching Andres the lyrics to bella ciao (this should have been the ending to Hermanito but I got tired adfadsf). Then Andres makes plans to take Sergio to Russia for experimental treatment, as per Alvaro's headcanons.

That's the outline in my head! Hopefully what I write will look the same LMAO and I'm hoping to publish in winter. It's up to fate!

Other things that happen:

Andres remembers that time he starred in a porno, felt it was beneath his dignity, and lost all the clothes he was wearing because they were bought by someone else. This led to him hiding out in a McDonalds bathroom, butt-naked at 2am and looking for chicken nuggets in the trash. Then the janitor tried to kick him out and Andres beat him up and stole his clothes. He considers this the lowest point of his life

Sergio gives Andres a little gift for Christmas, and Andres is surprise pikachu face

A mini-snippet that I hope to include (between the unlicensed surgeon and Andres):

"Take this."

Jose shoved a pair of earplugs into his hands. Andres quirked a brow. "Why would I need these?"

The older man laughed, a nasally trill of sounds that Andres did not appreciate. "They're not for you. They're for the kid-"

Jose grinned. "Because you're going to scream like a bitch."

Snippet from last time:

Occasionally, he would have a moment of clarity. He could step back then and see himself, not as Andres, but as he was. And he’d traded enough counterfeit art to know the difference between artifice and truth. This was a truth he’d always known, as universal as the rules of anatomy and color: Andres belonged on the pages of a sketchbook, lines of charcoal scribbled in haste and set to practice.

He was a replica of that sketch, counterfeit, a scribble made to tear out and scratch.

But Sergio? Sergio was the real deal. Sergio was the painting itself, the portrait that came from the work of countless sketches.

“You don’t have many prospects. How long do you think you can keep this up?”

“You can die on the street and nobody’d give a flying fuck.”

“You brother isn’t like you. He has a future.”

Andres looked back to the blood in his sink, the red on his knuckles, and the gashes peppering his face in the mirror. Jorge’s damned words surfaced in his head, as did the physician’s and the most accursed voice of them all: his own. They were right, he realized with a sharp- unfamiliar- ache, he could not keep this up. The dust from his charcoal had no right dirtying the gloss of Sergio’s paint. The portrait could never thrive beneath the counterfeit.

He made his choice. And he should never have fancied another option.

I’m Fine | 1

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 3,600

Summary: I'm fine. That's what he's been telling everyone the past two years since he and his soulmate parted ways. 

Genre & Warnings: Soulmate au. Angst. Yoongi is pretty self-destructive at first, so be aware of that. There will be lots of destructive thoughts, drinking, fighting, making drunken mistakes (hint). And I know while you read it you won’t believe me, but this does have a good ending.

A/N: Yes, I have given up trying to make this a one shot. Yoongi wouldn’t cooperate with me, so now this is a series. I’ll try to make it a short series, but it was just too complicated for a one shot. Part of the Love Yourself anniversary collab. Be sure to check out the other authors that participated too! 

For those that are familiar with the picture in the banner and are wondering where his the open knee went, no I did not suddenly become a puritan. Yoongi’s knee got flagged so I had to color it in

@sweet-honey-boy​ is the artistic genius behind the pretty banner

I’m fine. 

Such a common phrase. Meaningless these days, really. Just a couple of words thrown together so you’d have something to respond with when someone else throws out the equally meaningless greeting of “How are you?” 

They don’t really care how you are, they just want to seem like they do. They’ve already zoned out and have their planned response of “Good” ready and waiting.  

“I’m fine.” 

He mumbled the phrase, shaking the proffered hand of the bride’s cousin as they all waited their turn to go into the room and greet her. It was the same phrase he’d repeated at least twenty times today alone as old friends and family of the bride asked him how he was with pity shining in their eyes. 

The same phrase he’d been using for two whole years since his soulmate broke up with him and moved on with her life. 

*

Yoongi could still remember the first time he’d learned about soulmates. It had been in the second week of his kindergarten class when one of the kids next to him started giggling as his arm slowly began to be filled with doodles. Hearts, smiley faces, and stars soon lined the boy's arm from elbow to wrist. The teacher then decided to use all the kid’s collective excitement to explain about soulmates.

Apparently, there were many different types of soulmates. There were the ones that could write on their skin, like their fellow classmate. There were some that could speak to each other in their heads. Some that had timers on their wrist marking down how long until they met their match. And those were only some of the many ways that their world had that all led to the same idea - finding your soulmate. The person meant to be that one perfect person for you.

Yoongi had gone home that very night and tried to figure out what his type was. He wrote “Hello, my name is Min Yoongi” on his arm, along with a little doodle of Kumamon. Nothing happened. He went to the bathroom and tore off his uniform, searching his skin for any sort of marker or timer, maybe even a tattoo or a bruise that he couldn’t remember getting. His skin remained unblemished beyond a couple of moles. 

Over the next few years, he’d secretly researched and experimented with every soulmate type he could find. He never saw any strings, heard any voices or songs, felt anything out of the ordinary. At times he felt a flicker of fear over the stray thought that maybe he didn’t have one. But that couldn’t be right. Everyone had one, right? 

When his father divorced his mom- who was his soulmate - and left them both for another woman, that was his first lesson that maybe soulmates weren’t all they were cracked up to be anyway. 

*

By the time Yoongi hit college, he already felt like he’d lived three lifetimes. He was now broken and bitter by life, having spent most of his youth working to care for himself and his heartbroken mom. She’d never recovered after his father left. Instead, she became a hollow shell of the loving woman she’d once been, content to sit at home and do the bare minimum to stay alive, mourning her piece of shit “soulmate” that never even bothered to check up on his own son. He had to force her to eat and sleep, to go outside and get some air and sun. He often ran home from school terrified he’d find her dead, but she kept going thanks to him. There were many times over those years that Yoongi had fought not to give up and do something stupid himself. 

Sometimes she’d meet someone during her rare times out alone that would bring a flicker of life back to her eyes, but they usually turned out to be assholes that would pick fights with Yoongi and try to control his vulnerable mother. He was quick to run them off. Yoongi took on any job he could to keep them both fed and housed, even if the rooftop apartment that they’d been forced to move to was crumbling. 

Yoongi hadn’t even planned to go to college, as it had seemed such a far off dream for someone like him. He already worked three jobs just to stay alive; where would he get the money to go to college too? Then his father passed away - some drunk driver, according to his latest paramour - and left Yoongi with more money than he’d ever seen before. Apparently, the old prick had been doing quite well for himself while Yoongi and his mom had been forced to live in squalor. 

So, Yoongi being the practical soul he was, decided that instead of spending it all at once and buying some huge lavish home and three cars he would instead invest in going to college and getting a great job so that he’d never have to be poor or dependant on anyone else ever again. He got his mom set up in a nicer apartment with a caregiver and saved everything else, packing up to go live life for himself for a change. 

*

One thing he’d forgotten about college is that there were people everyfuckingwhere. A whole new group of people curious about his soulmate, where was his soulmate, what was his marker. He’d long ago determined that either his soulmate was dead or the fates had decided his life wasn’t shit enough so they’d not give him one just for shits and giggles. 

So, to shut everyone else up, he decided to show them exactly what he thought of the soulmate system and the belief that you should save yourself for them. He slept around with anyone willing. Didn’t give a fuck if they were taken or not. If they had a soulmate or not. What they were, what they were majoring in, even their fucking names - he didn’t care. 

And with the amount of soulmated people he’d had in and under him, it just further proved his point that soulmates were a shit concept. 

So he pushed the thought of his nonexistent soulmate from his mind, instead focusing his days on getting the best grades he could to ensure the highest paying job, and his nights on fucking, fighting and drinking to his heart's content.

*

As usual, Yoongi’s life was about to be flipped upside down. And it was all Jackson Wang and his stupid party’s fault. 

While he wasn’t a fan of frat boys themselves, Yoongi had to admit that the bastards threw the best parties. Jackson Wang was one of the few frat guys he could tolerate because the guy was too nice to hate, so when the party was at his place, Yoongi was a frequent visitor. The place was packed tonight, and while he didn’t like the crowd, he certainly enjoyed having a nice selection to choose from for his evening entertainment.  

Yoongi leaned against the kitchen counter as he sipped his whiskey. It was a shit brand and a shit year, but was still a rare treat at one of these things that usually served the cheapest beer and fruity crap meant to entice girls into drinking more. Yoongi guessed that his roommate had talked to Jackson about grabbing some to keep Yoongi happy. He appreciated the attempt. 

He hadn’t been planning on going to this party since he still had a report to finish, but his roommate Namjoon claimed he needed the backup. He was convinced one of the members of this frat was his soulmate. His soulmate marker was a birthday, but he claimed he felt funny every time he looked at him. Instead of saying anything to the guy, Yoongi deduced that Namjoon’s plan was to stare at him creepily from across the room. 

“Yoongi hyung, he’s so pretty. Like, super pretty. Don’t you think he’s pretty?” Yoongi guessed he was supposed to be included in the conversation since his name was used, but it sounded more like his friend was thinking out loud. 

“Yeah, he’s not bad. You should go tell him you think he’s pretty. He looks like the type that would appreciate it.” 

“I can’t,” Namjoon whispered. 

“You can. I believe in you,” Yoongi rolled his eyes. 

“No, I mean I really can’t. My feet won’t move.” 

“Oh, Jesus Christ. Fine. Stay here.” 

“Wait! Yoongi, don’t...” 

Yoongi set his cup on the counter and ignored Namjoon’s protests as he strode purposefully into the living room. When he was in front of his target - a pretty man nearly as tall as Namjoon with pillow lips and an eternally amused expression - he sighed wearily. 

“Look. You see that guy trying to hide by the kitchen counter? That’s Namjoon, my roommate. He’s super fucking smart, but also kind of stupid. He’s also kinda like a big ass rottweiler that thinks he’s a lap dog. He thinks you’re his soulmate, but he’s the type that would rather pine from afar for the rest of his life rather than face rejection, so can I ask what your marker is? I realize that’s personal and you can tell me to fuck off.” 

The man’s face went from confusion to amusement and finally settled on something that he was sure a few romantic poets would fight to the death to describe.  

“It’s a birthday. The twelfth of September.” 

Yoongi nodded. “Yeah, that’s him. Go get him. Just remember that’s he’s a lot more sensitive than he lets on. And, you know, the best friend speech. You hurt him I’ll...I dunno. Do something.” 

“Thanks. I’m Seokjin, by the way. I guess I’ll talk to you guys later,” he smiled and went towards the kitchen, the little sway in his hips telling him Namjoon had no chance against that one. The poor lug was currently trying to straighten up and look cool like he hadn’t just been cowering in the kitchen. 

Yoongi snorted and turned away to give them their privacy, looking around the room for someplace to lounge. Before he could leave, one of the girls in the group that Seokjin had been talking with tapped his arm. 

“That was really cool of you. Jin’s always talking about meeting his soulmate, so I’m sure he’s over the moon right now.” 

Yoongi faced the speaker and his breath hitched. He’d seen cuter girls, sure, but...there was...something about this one. He didn’t know what this strange feeling in the pit of his stomach was. Maybe the shitty whiskey was finally getting to him. 

She was looking up at him expectantly and he finally remembered that she’d said something. 

“You’re fucking pretty.” 

What the fuck? He’d meant to say thanks and then maybe try to sweet-talk his way into her pants. Where the fuck had that come from? 

Even her blushing face was cute. He wanted to make a run for it, but at the same time he kinda just wanted to keep looking at her. 

“I wish you were my soulmate.” 

Her squeak of alarm, followed by her hand slapping against her mouth as she stared at him with alarmed eyes led him to a mind-fuck of a conclusion. 

“Well, I think you got your wish,” he mumbled. 

Her hand dropped and even her stunning smile wasn’t enough to quell the growing panic Yoongi felt. She was pretty, and looked nice, and was his soulmate. 

He had a fucking soulmate. 

And thus began what would be the first of the many, many times Yoongi would hurt the person he was supposed to protect the most as he turned tail and ran. 

* 

Yoongi had spent a lot of time in his youth wondering what his soulmate quirk could be. He’d always thought that the ones that could hear each other's music could be cool, or even the ones that could speak telepathically. His friend Taehyung and his soulmate Jimin could write to each other on their skin. Even that could have been neat. 

Yoongi’s super amazing totally not problematic quirk was that he couldn’t fucking lie to his soulmate. 

All those years wondering if his soulmate was dead or if he just didn’t have one, when it was just that he needed to meet them for it to work. He wondered if she’d grown up thinking he was dead too. That thought just made the guilt he felt raise even higher. She’d probably been thrilled that he was alive and in front of her for all of two seconds before he dashed her hopes and dreams running off like he had. 

But here’s the thing. There are universally known facts about him:

Min Yoongi loves sleep. Min Yoongi likes music. Min Yoongi hates soulmates. Min Yoongi lies.  

Sometimes his lies were simply to amuse himself at the expense of his friends. Being sarcastic, making up fake rumors, that kind of thing. No big deal. Sometimes it’s to protect those friends. Telling Taehyung his drawing his great when it looks like Yoongi could do a better job with his toes. Telling Jimin that he could barely notice the giant zit the size of the moon on his forehead. Telling Joon that that girl he’d been hung up on probably got busy, not that Yoongi had warned her to stay the fuck away when she tried to sneak into his bed right after she’d hooked up with Namjoon. 

The problem was that most of his lies are about himself. He tells people he’s fine when he wants to jump off the nearest bridge. He tells Joon he remembered to eat and sleep when he’d really been a filthy goblin working on his project for two days straight. He has an hour-long panic attack in the bathroom and tells people he has IBS. He tells his mother she’s not a burden that ruined his childhood. He tells everyone he’s fine being soulmate-less and he didn’t feel lonely. 

He lies. 

And now the universe is laughing in his face because they’ve presented him with someone he literally can’t lie to. Not to protect himself, not to protect her. There was no way any relationship they tried to have wouldn’t end in disaster. 

The very thought of having to bare himself to someone that much was utterly terrifying...and yet he was still more afraid of the look that Kim Seokjin was giving him from Yoongi’s doorway. 

Namjoon and Seokjin had hit it off disgustingly well, enough so that ‘Jin’ had practically been living in their dorm room for nearly three weeks. He’d turned out to be a cool guy, and Yoongi imagined he would get along with him fairly well if only he’d stop sending him death glares over the breakfast table. 

Except for now Jin’s moved on to glaring at him from his own bedroom door. 

“I’ve had enough, Yoongi. Y/N’s my friend and a sweet girl. I’m tired of seeing her sad. Fix it.” 

“Jin, this isn’t like you and Namjoon, okay? I never wanted a soulmate,” Yoongi sighs, flopping onto his back and covering his eyes with his arm. He just wanted the guy to get the fuck out and leave him to his miserable existence. 

“I don’t really give a fuck,” Jin yelled. 

Yoongi lowered his arm and glanced at Jin, impressed. He hadn’t known the other had it in him. He looked a little ridiculous and red-faced, but still, Yoongi had never heard him curse before. 

“This isn’t just about you, Yoongi. She’s part of it too, whether you like it or not. She thought she didn’t have a soulmate and then you suddenly appear. Now she has a soulmate, but one that’s apparently rejected her. She’s a mess. Fix it.” 

Jin walks towards Yoongi and throws a slip of paper on the bed, staring down at him as haughtily like a rich Korean mother from a drama. Without another word, he leaves and shuts the door as Yoongi picks it up, seeing the number on it. Hers, he assumes. 

He sighs and ruffles his hair. He’s not a total asshole. He supposes he should at least meet with her and tell her why they couldn’t work. 

He punches in the number and sends a text before he can talk himself out of it. 

*

It took them three days to coordinate their schedules enough to meet (or the both of them had tried to push it forward as much as possible), and now they were finally sitting across from each other in neutral territory. Yoongi had figured meeting for a cup of coffee was probably cliche, but it was a safe choice and was somewhere he felt comfortable. It helped that Taehyung was a barista here and he would probably go along with it if Yoongi needed help escaping. 

Yoongi gripped his cup of black coffee hard, gathering the courage to speak to her. Y/N looked tired, and maybe a little like she’d lost weight in her face, like she hadn’t been eating well. The thought that he’d upset her that much added another layer of guilt to the growing pile in his chest with her name on it. 

“First of all, I wanted to say sorry for running out on you the other night. That was cowardly of me and kind of a shithead thing to do. So...sorry,” he mumbled, staring at the table. 

He looked up again when she sighed. 

“Thank you. That hurt me a lot,” she cringed, like that hadn’t been what she’d intended to say, and he supposed it wasn’t. Their soulmate quirk was a difficult one. 

He ground his teeth as he fought the scratching in his throat, trying his best to word things in a way that wouldn’t scar her for life. 

“Look, I just don’t trust this whole soulmate thing. The idea that your happiness revolves around this single person is bullshit. And...I’m terrified,” he grits out, hating how vulnerable he sounded. 

She nods, “Yeah, it’s pretty scary. But, I don’t really think it’s about your happiness revolves around someone. More like, there’s this person that’s meant to help you become the best version of yourself, and maybe you can find your happiness together.” 

Yoongi scoffs, stopping himself from saying anything sarcastic with a long sip from his cup. She was still so naive. 

She chews her lip and suddenly there’s a look in her eyes that makes his pause and pay attention. 

“It’s just...okay, so I thought you were dead most of my life, like I’m sure you thought I was. I thought that all of my future relationships were just going to be me being used as a placeholder until their soulmate comes along. And then maybe I’d find someone else who didn’t have a soulmate and we’d settle for each other. I thought that my chance at finding actual love was gone, and then you...,” she sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “You show up in front of me, being all fucking gorgeous and funny and a great friend - and alive. Sure, we probably have the shittest soulmate quirk and the fact that I’m rambling all this is proof of that, but Yoongi, you’re alive. I’m alive, and we’re soulmates. We have a chance. Can’t you at least give us a chance?” 

Some part of him wanted to warn her about what she was getting into. He knew he would hurt her. He knew he would fuck everything up. But the truth was...he wanted to try. Something told him she was worth it. Was that just part of the whole soulmate brainwashing bullshit? He didn’t know, but the thought of leaving her behind today and never looking back felt wrong. 

Yoongi sighs wearily as he observes her glassy eyes, knowing that this wouldn’t be the first time he’d make her tear up but unable to stop the words from leaving his mouth. 

“Yeah. Let’s take a chance.” 

Zimbrane Headcanon #1/?

THIS POST IS LONG AND IT’S A DEFINITE SHITPOST NOT TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY.

Since Zim learnt about the Earthen custom of giving meat to others during Valentine’s Day, he decided to prove to everyone that he was the BEST I MEAN ABSOLUTE BEST lover and boyfriend in the entire world. Forget about building temples and castles in honour of your love. Forget about buying the rights to name a star in your lover’s name. When Zim loves someone, he LOVES and he wants his love to be known by everyone so they would feel inferior in the knowledge that ZiM!!! could never be theirs.

Therefore, to prove his worth as the best lover to ever live, Zim began giving more and more lavish, meat-based items to Professor Membrane. He’ll bear through the pain and agony of devising ways to present the love-meaties to his love-pig, even if meat hurts him. On the first day he designed a catapult to fling salami onto the Membrane household as if he were a kid on Halloween, egging the grouchy neighbour’s windows. Dib’s window was open so he got a salami RIGHT ON HIS STUPID FACE. Professor Membrane was too dumb in love to reprimand Zim for making his yard smell like cured sausages. And the catapult Zim engineered was really impressive.

Zim goes bigger and bigger on the gifts. So ZiM, being the genius that he is, found a way to make a car out of meat. Honk HOnK, it’s your LAMBEEFghini!! Get in the car fueled by the cries of cattle and mutton Professor!!! It’s a feat of engineering AND it’s great for impromptu barbecues. Who needs a meat-dress like Lady Gaga’s to cover up? Certainly not Professor Membrane cuz this machine’s got enough covering to protect the Professor from a barrage of anti-aircraft missiles, surprisingly (it’s a long story).

Next he got inspired by Mount Rushmore, and took over Meat Mountain (Issue #44) to carve an edifice of Professor Membrane’s most brilliant moments (there may or may not be a knock-off of David by Michelangelo).  As skiers progress through the levels, they get a brief history of Prof Membrane’s achievements and his inspirations, it somehow turned into a national museum that doubles as a ski resort. At the end of the ski lane, skiers are being greeted by a 250 feet high Membrane. You can ski between his legs. There’s certainly lots of meat there. Professor Membrane actually wanted to have that section closed down (WHy????) but seeing all the effort Zim gave, became too soft-hearted for that.

What about his final act? Combining his forays into sausage technology and brain surgery on squid and humans. Zim did the impossible and infected the very oceans and rivers that sustained the Earth with a virus that would only be active for 5 hours. Sea creatures began morphing into dancing little sausages and walked onto land. This of course attracted news outlets from around the globe, and Cthulhu mythos cults began believing their savior woke up. The sausages actually only came up on land to do a song and dance number about how much Zim loves Professor Membrane, until they reverted back to their original forms and returned to the waters. It’s titled “Love Is Disgusting (and painful) But You Are Worth It”, written by Gir (there may be a proposal message in the lyrics, it’s being debated on Genius). This marks the only time in history a song became number one in every nation. It brought more peace than Peace Day. Everyone was enamoured with Zim’s and Prof Membrane’s romance (ZaPMr). But this was too much and Prof Membrane tells Zim that he doesn’t have to do this meat gift-giving anymore. Their wedding happens a week afterwards.

(This gift-giving ain’t one-sided dudes, Professor Membrane shares stuff from his “Weapons of DOOm and DOminatiOn” or W-DOODOO folder, along with using Zim’s name to name his most recent greatest inventions to show his appreciation. ZiM likes it. The people of Earth didn’t cuz they didn’t know if the Zim device being referred to was a Super Spatula capable of spatulating 50 patties and chemicals at the same time or the Zero-class Interrogating Manhunter robot beloved by the US Army and endorsed by President Man.)

Zim gets on the news. He gets admirers believing he is the next coming of Fabio, including the gorgeous hair. Many people began emulating ZiM in speech mannerisms cuz ZiM = Love God now, they compare him to Hera (Dib is suffering). Zim goes down Earth’s history as a Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy who respects “Earthen Customs” and wins something like a citizen of the world award. (The vegans were out to harm him but ended up being confused when they see that ZiM refuses to even touch meat, he did all his structures using 12 inch prongs).

Here’s the So What

For some reason, my university asked me to deliver the speech at graduation this semester. Some people said that they liked it, so I thought I would share it with you folks. I’m kind of happy with it, both because it was short (7 minutes) and I managed to include a quote from Terry Pratchett. I hope he would be pleased. Maybe @neil-gaiman could tell me whether he thinks so. _______________________________________

Ok. I know what you’re thinking. Oh no. They gave the microphone to an English teacher.

I get it, and I’ll try to make this as painless as possible—I didn’t even bring a red pen. After all you’re almost done with this college stuff. In fact, you could call this the conclusion to the essay that is your college education.

In my writing classes I tell folks that, in the conclusion to their papers, they shouldn’t just repeat what they’ve already said, but reinforce the most important point, and make it clear why it was so important. The conclusion, in other words, should answer the So What question.

And at this point, after exhausting yourselves with final exams and papers, you may well be wondering, so what?

Well, since they let me have the microphone, I’m going to tell you.

Let’s do a quick look back: We all know that your degree has made you more employable, that you’ve gained valuable career skills—a solid knowledge base in your field with which to get a job, and hopefully advance in that career path, or even switch careers if you might want to. That is, of course, why people go to college, because to be employable, it isn’t just about learning a bunch of facts, it’s about learning what to do with those facts—how to tell which facts are relevant, how to make connections between facts, how to solve problems with facts—bc let’s face it, if it were just about learning the facts, you could buy yourself a computer and just do google searches for the rest of your life. You’ve gotten much more than that.

At this point, your head is full of a bunch of facts, AND you’ve got the skills to do stuff with them.

And all of that’s a given. Because I know my colleagues. I know that they know their sh--stuff. I know that they’ve given you what you need to succeed.

But there’s more to it than that.

And here is the So What—what I really hope happened in addition to that other stuff.

What I really hope happened while you were at the university is that at some point someone made you think about what it means to be a human being living among other human beings.

As much as you hate to think about it, over the course of your life, you will have to interact with other people—whole communities of them.

And if those communities are going to function (and here I apologize to everyone, really, for mangling this JFK quote) the humans in them need occasionally to not ask what folks can do for them, but what they can do for other folks.

And that sounds easy, but everywhere you look in our culture, the message is not about “doing for other folks”; the message is about me. Not me, personally, but the existential me. You know, the selfish me. We are told that the customer is always right, that innovation comes from the isolated genius, that rugged individualism is what made this country great— look out for number one, to thine own self be true, disaster take the hindmost, only one guy gets to the top of the mountain.

But we all know that isn’t really true. We know that the guy who made it to the top of Mt Everest had a whole team of other guys hauling his gear and schlepping his food. We know that those Nobel Prize winning scientists built their research on top of and in conversation with work done by hundreds of other scientists, and they probably had an army of lab assistants and grad students helping them out. We know that those rugged individualists have food on their table because some farmer grew it, and some truck driver hauled it, and some stock boy put it on display, and some clerk ran the cash register. We’re all connected to other people in thousands of ways.

All your life you will be moving within and between communities of humans—families, churches, neighborhoods, friends, co-workers. And how you move within and between those communities will not depend on what title you have, or how much money you make, or how spiffy your clothes are. It’s about who you are when all of those things get stripped away. It’s about what you see when you look at the person sitting next to you. Do you see a fellow human being?

There is a fantastic exchange in a book by Terry Pratchett--a little conversation between a young cleric and an incredibly pragmatic character named Granny Weatherwax. It starts with the cleric observing that

“There is a very interesting debate raging at the moment on the nature of sin. . . ." [And Granny Weatherwax replies,] "And what do they think? Against it, are they?" "It's not as simple as that. It's not a black and white issue. There are so many shades of gray." "Nope." "Pardon?" "There's no grays, only white that's got grubby. I'm surprised you don't know that. And sin, young man, is when you treat people like things. Including yourself. That's what sin is." "It's a lot more complicated than that--"

"No. It ain't. When people say things are a lot more complicated than that, they means they're getting worried that they won't like the truth. People as things, that's where it starts." "Oh, I'm sure there are worse crimes--" "But they starts with thinking about people as things..."

It starts when people think about other people as things.

So why did you have to take that history class, and sit through a literature course, and suffer through political science and philosophy and art appreciation and world geography?

What’s the So What?

It’s about seeing the world through someone else’s eyes. It’s about making connections. It’s about understanding how all that stuff and all of those people work in relationship with each other. It’s about solving problems.

And it’s about looking at someone else, seeing them struggle, and not seeing them as a thing, but knowing that’s a human being, just like yourself, trying their best to live with other human beings.

And it’s just that simple.

@pedeka @incredifishface @icybluepenguin @indomitablemegnolia @iamhisgloriouspurpose @anastasiaoftheironwood 

Happy Mancrush Monday

And we’re back to our regularly scheduled Mancrush Monday Olicity Edition.  This week covers episodes 2x07 - 2x13.  Many thanks to @xspeedytrashx for suggesting an Olicity Mancrush Monday post for all the seasons.  Season 2 is my favorite so I’m breaking it up over three posts.  Hope you enjoy! :)

We pick up post-Russia and the ‘because of the life I lead...’ speech.  Oliver is in a business suit reiterating to Felicity about his choice not to kill.  Oliver was also making a choice at the time not to put his arrow in Felicity and he was reaaaalllly cranky about it.  

A little while later, even though he still has broody face, Oliver is more chill, at least with his attire.  Jacket and tie are gone, top buttons unbuttoned, and shirt sleeves rolled up.  This is one of my favorite season 2 Oliver looks and Felicity is a better woman than I for staying focused on saving the city.  #forearmporn

Back in a business suit, Oliver’s chill didn’t last long because while he was at his mother’s trial, the Count kidnaps Felicity.  He calls Oliver using Felicity’s phone and Oliver can hear a scared and tearful Felicity in the background.  Strike one.

I normally don’t include Oliver in the Arrow suit but this is one of the few times in the earlier seasons we saw him with the hood down.  Oliver never takes his eyes off of Felicity as the Count runs his fingers through her ponytail.  Simmering with barely controlled rage at this point, Oliver tries to divert the Count’s attention away from Felicity but the Count insists on using her as his pawn.  Strike two.

The Count’s failed Plan A to kill Oliver causes him to go to Plan B and threaten to inject Felicity in the neck with Vertigo. You can try to kill him but don’t you dare try to hurt his girl.  Barely controlled rage snapped hard and fast.  Strike three (arrows) and you’re out (the window).  

Oliver’s rage is replaced by relief as he assures Felicity she is safe by gently cupping her neck with his gloved hand.  She responds by noticing he was shot and touches the spot of the wound on his arm but he softly tells her ‘it’s nothing’ because the only thing that matters to him in that moment is her.

A simple white tee is the perfect attire for this simple sentiment.  Simple in the respect that Oliver will protect Felicity an any cost.  It’s ironic that Oliver thinks his feelings for Felicity are complicated, yet when it has always come to Felicity, there is no choice to make.

Back to business and back in a business suit, Oliver is none too happy that Felicity seems interested in BA.  All BA did was smile at her after she asked his name again and jelly Oliver jumped out.  

This gif has been in my gif folder forever so I don’t remember who to credit.  It’s just sad that Tumblr doesn’t have a larger one.  As far as what Oliver is wearing or barely wearing, I’ll just present without comment.  Fun fact:  this scene clip on You Tube (by Olicity Queen) has 1.9 million views.  Must be the riveting plot. ;)

Oliver is sad because he is fully dressed.  Oh wait, that’s why I’m sad lol.  Oliver is sad because he hurt Felicity by investigating BA and then gloatingly exposes BA’s lies in front of her.  BA admits the truth and breaks his date with Felicity.  Oliver tries to defend his decision but Felicity reminds him of the hypocrisy of pretending to be someone you’re not and walks out, leaving him very blue in his blue business suit and tie.  Even those baby blue puppy eyes couldn’t save him.

Not even Oliver looking this hot in his formal wear could thaw Felicity’s cold shoulder.  Time for a dance?  Not for 4 more years and a wedding, big guy. 

No, he’s not talking about BA this time lol.  He’s reassuring his worried wifey that he can win against a super-strength soldier with his intense stare and crisp shirt.

Jealous Oliver reached a fever peak after Felicity had to reveal Oliver’s secret identity to BA so he could save Oliver’s life.  Jacket undone and hood down, Oliver is hot under the collar and berating Felicity to the point that BA jumps in to defend her.  BA is intimidated by the big scary angry vigilante but Felicity isn’t and goes toe-to-toe with Oliver in one of their most epic arguments. 

Bonus gif:  he wasn’t kidding lol

Three’s a crowd in the Arrow cave when Oliver is looking for some alone time.  His disappointed face was an pretty strong indicator he wanted alone time with Felicity.  But since Oliver is still a big dumb pine tree at this point, she takes Barry upstairs and leaves Oliver alone to brood and play with his tennis balls. 

Hey buddy, her eyes are up here.  It seems to me like this lovestruck dork isn’t even looking at her breasts, he’s checking out her lips because he wants to kiss her so much.  Partly to reassure her and partly out of fear he won’t come back and have another chance to do it.  

Arrow suit, hood down.  He’s been traumatized by his hallucinations, but everything is better with a hug from bae.

Despite Oliver’s contentious behavior toward him, BA doesn’t hold a grudge and even leaves a gift for Oliver--a mask to help conceal his secret identity.  Felicity puts it on him for the first time and Oliver asks her how he looks.  ‘Like a hero.’ Ultimate compliment from proud future wifey makes him feel like he can conquer the world so he does this ultra macho heroic hood flip for her.  #endgame

Life is not a runway, Oliver.  Again, how did Felicity get any work done?!?!?  The bow. The arrows. The thigh quiver.....please feel free to keep adding to this list. ;)

Fitting that his suit is green because jealous Oliver makes a return in 2x10.  Felicity is visiting a comatose BA in Central City and Oliver is losing his shit.

Felicity finally comes home and Oliver does his level best to look cool, calm, and collected in his business suit while internally screaming how happy he is that she is back.  Our big dumb pine tree is a giant sap but he tries his best to hide it.

Felicity almost runs Oliver into a bus and he thinks it’s because she’s thinking about BA.  He’s still pissy that she was in CC and shows his ass (not in the good way lol).  The ass that Felicity tells him to get his head out of.  Jealousy, anger and hurt are a toxic combination and Oliver verbally strikes back at Felicity.

Sure, Oliver.  Maybe comatose BA has been dreaming about Felicity.  But based on the heart eyes, rosy cheeks, and dreamy smile, it sure looks like you’re the one who has been dreaming about her.  

Here, have an enlarged close-up of this man’s smitten face.  

CEO Oliver in his business suit trying to stay focused on business with Felicity in that grey dress.  I’ve often asked how Felicity got work done but how did Oliver?  Oh yeah, he made sure to have her by his side in their night AND day jobs. :)

Sweaty and shirtless Oliver, fresh off of the salmon ladder, figuring out the extent of Felicity’s hacking skills.  He never stops being amazed by her.

Felicity playing doctor with hubby.  (Diggle, as proxy for all of us, pacing at the glacial pace they are taking with acting on their feelings for each other).

Our OTP looking good in their coats and looking married years before they were actually married.  

Intelligence is sexy and Oliver stating facts while wearing that peacoat is the epitome of sexy.

Oliver gets very disconcerted when he is shirtless and sweaty from working out right in front of bae and he doesn’t have her full attention.  

Step up your game, Queen.  Maybe next time lose the pants.  See what happens.  Just a suggestion.

I’m not sure we have adequately appreciated the genius mind of Felicity Smoak.  Our Queen installed spotlights on the salmon ladder so she (and we) could see and admire Oliver in all his sweaty shirtless glory more clearly.  #istanalegend

Concerned hubby going after wifey.  I’ll never be over the way he says her name or reaches for her arm.  We finally learned a little about Felicity’s parents and that Oliver notices everything about her.  Never mind, we knew that last part. :)

A gorgeous black and white shot of Oliver trying to work out his anger over Moira’s deceit.  I loved the scenes like these and not just for the shirtlessness.  The raw power and show of strength and skill of Oliver training or working out always bolstered the stunt sequences.  Also, many times, Oliver was mentally and/or verbally processing his emotions so we had that aspect as well.  It was a beautiful symbiotic relationship between his toned body and tortured soul.

Huge thanks to all the talented gifmakers.   Your time and talent is very much appreciated! <3  2x08 gif credit to gfycat.com and 2x13 gif credit to PicsWe.com.

Geniuses and Genius Bars

Sorry @iamirondad for taking so long to get to this one. Please enjoy. 

AO3 LINK 

Tony was giving a speech to the Midtown School of Science and Technology. Naturally Peters excited, until he isn't, and Tony finally meets Flash Thompson.

Peter was excited.

Tony couldn’t understand why, but the kid was all smiles and jittering legs, bumbling at a million miles an hour about how great this was, how this was a historic moment, a life changing event, a once in a lifetime opportunity…

It was just a speech about the different grants and scholarships and work opportunities with stark industries. But for some reason, every damn kid in the school had been hyping it up for weeks, months even.

Including Peter.

Tony just didn’t get it. Peter saw him every week, more than once a week, and they spoke about college and further opportunities all the time? Why was this one insignificant talk to a bunch of teenagers getting him crawling up the walls?

Nonetheless he entertained the kid. Let him ramble and gasp ideas and nonsense about the things Tony could talk about.

“What about the suit Mr. Stark? What if you demonstrated the nanotech? The school would go wild for that! Can you imagine it?” he had laughed. Tony had just rolled his eyes in response, refusing to admit it would be kind of fun to have hundreds of awe-struck nerd kids admire his hard work. If anyone were to appreciate the complexity of nanotech, is was the Midtown school of Science and Technology kids.

“I don’t see the big deal kid, you could watch my TED talks on YouTube if you are such a fan” he teased. This time it was Peters turn to roll his eyes.

“I’m not a fan” he blushed, “It’s just… it’s so amazing what you do. There’re so many kids at the school who are there for their intelligence alone you know? They come from not so great homes, or really struggle financially… this kind of opportunity you’re talking about, it gives hope to those kids… I was one of those kids Mr. Stark” he shrugs his shoulders in a façade of nonchalance, but his excitement is still surface level, gleaming in his eyes.

Tony sometimes forgets his privilege, forgets his brains came with an influence, and never in his youth did he have to think about whether or not he could go to college. It was only how many degrees and doctorates can I get to shove it up Howards ass. He feels pride wash through him at Peters declaration, at the kid’s faith in him, in everyone.

“Plus, means I get a free ride into school so that’s great too” Peter smirks smugly, his cheeky grin pressing at his lips.

Tony mocks a shocked expression, “If you think I’ll allow you to treat me like your uber driver kid, you have another thing coming.”

Peter exaggerates a whine “Common Mr. Stark! The train smells like a sewer! I’ll even give you five stars” he laughs, ducking as Tony ditches the closest rag at his head.

Tony preens at the domesticity, at Peters comfort in the lab environment.

Not for the first time, he vows he would protect that kid with every inch of his life.

“But seriously Mr. Stark, what you do for all those kids in need is pretty awesome, I don’t know if you see what I see, but you’re like the Oprah of the science and tech world” he says with all sincerity. Tony scoffs at the reference to Oprah. He would never be as cool as Oprah.

“Yeah well, someone’s got to keep monitors on all your nerds, who knows what world ending machine you might end up creating” he smiles coyly, reaching out to ruffle the kids unruly hair.

Peter thinks for a moment, Tony can already tell the kids conjuring up dangerous one liner by the glint in his eyes “You mean like Ultron?” he smirks.

Tony drops his jaw “You little shmuck!” he throws another rag, and when Peter ducks away from that he throws a spanner too, groaning as the kid catches it and grins even wider.

“Admit it Mr. Stark! You’re a nerd just like us!” he laughs with glee. Tony shakes his head. “Never young buck. Never. Give me back my spanner, nerd”

“Admit it!”

“Not happening”

“Admit it!”

“Give it back or I’ll call May”

“That’s something a nerd would say” Peter snickers, ducking in anticipation at the look Tony throws him.

“I’ll call myself a nerd, when you admit you’re one of my fangirls.” Tony throws back, raising an eyebrow, hiding his smirk.

Peter huffs out a disbelieving laugh. “You already know I’m a fangirl, Mr. Stark…” he pauses for comedic effect, Tony already knows he’s got another one liner in him “of Ironman, that is. Couldn’t care less about the dude in it” he’s giggling before he’s even finished the sentence.

Tony made a noise of protest before charging at the now running away teen. Peters laughter bounced off the walls, excitement in his mischievous eyes. Tony snags one of Peters web-shooters off the table, grinning in pleasure at Peters haltered step, the widening of his eyes.

“DUM-E” he singsongs, watching as the robot whirred its way happily over to him. Peter eyes grew even wider.

“You wouldn’t” he gasped.

“Oh but I would. DUM-E, you want to check if these are fireproof for me? I know how much you love-“ he’s cut off by a spanner clattering at his feet, Peter following quickly behind.

“Truce! Truce okay! You’re not a nerd, I’m a fangirl, please give them back!” he yelps. Tony taking way too much amusement and pleasure in Peters agony, raises his hand towards DUM-E, web shooter dangling dangerously, watching Peter cringe as the claw moves in on its target.

Waiting a final moment, revelling in Peters puppy dog eyes, he tosses the shooter back, Peter catching it effortlessly with a relieved smile, slipping it back on his wrist.

“Jerk” he laughs, “Nerd” Tony snipes back.

He ruffles the kid’s hair again, just because he can. Peter ducking away and grinning wide. “I probably should head home anyway, getting kinda dark.” Peter smiles, moving to shove his bags back together, leaving his station messy and cluttered. Tony rolled his eyes. Teenagers.  

“Need a lift?” He asked, moving to shut down his own station.

“Oh, now you want to be my Uber driver.” Peter smirks, darting out of the way of Tonys attempted head smack. “Yeah keep it up and you can walk on Friday.” Tony puffed.

It was Peters turn to roll his eyes. “You can’t stop me from catching the train Mr. Stark.”

“I can cancel your Metro pass, maybe put you on the teenage deviants watch list. Would love to see you try outrun those guards during peak”

Peter winces, “Fine, you are the best mentor, I owe you my life, please pick me up at 7” he rushes out the door before Tony can protest, not that he would. Tony can hear his giddy laughter all the way down the corridor, can almost see the skip in his step.

Which is why it is so wrong when he picks the kid up, three days later, and Peter looks like he wishes he was anywhere else.

The teen sits slumped in the passenger seat, eyes downcast, lip pulled between his teeth. A nervous trait that Tony had noticed he did when he was stressed. Not just stressed, but stressed.

“What’s up kiddo? You not feeling too good?” He asks, trying to swallow the excitement he himself had been feeling on the drive over. He thought Peter would be the same, vibrating with energy like he had been in the lab. Now Peter’s a shell of that kid, worried and jittery. Not the good kind.

Peter shakes his head, he goes to respond, but his phone pings, taking his attention for a moment. Tony sees as the kids face scrunches up, jaw clenched, before he tosses his phone carelessly back into his back pack and slumps back again with a sigh.

“Seriously Pete, spill. What’s on your mind? I thought you would have your head out of the sunroof by now” The joke doesn’t even register on Peters glum face.

“I’m just not feeling it today.” He replies softly. Tony frowns. “Is it something at school?” Maybe the workload was building up again, or the decathlon team… he had practice for that yesterday afternoon, maybe something had happened there. “Something like that” he gets in a mumbled response.

Peter kept his eyes glued out the window. Not bothering to engage in any more conversation. Tony frowned harder, nervously tapping at the wheel. Had he done something to upset Peter? Was there something he had forgotten?

He’s about to ask, when Peter cuts in quietly. “Could you please drop me off here?” Tony looked at where Peter was referring, confused. “Pete we are still three blocks away? I can drop you off closer?” but Peter shook his head determinedly, already pulling up his bag and reaching for the handle. Unsure of what to do, Tony pulled over, allowing the teen to jump up and scatter over to the side walk, quick to blend in with the other pedestrians.

It took Tony a few more seconds to remember to drive, his heart sinking as he watched Peter get smaller and smaller in his rear-view mirror. Should he have stopped him? Should he go back?

Surely this was just another teenager thing, embarrassment about their parent dropping them off… not that Tony was a parent, definitely not. Unless Peter wanted him to be.

But this was behaviour Tony hadn’t seen before. This was more subdued than he had experienced. And he had experienced a lot.

Trying to shake of the unnerving feeling, he pulled into the staff parking lot, ensuring he was tucked away, not wanting to risk some kids vandalising the paint. He gathered his thoughts, finding them continuously running back to his sad kid, mentee.

He slipped through the staff entry, greeting the flustered star struck admin team, gracefully allowing them to guide him into the teachers common room. All heads shot up, some more awe struck than others. Here we go he thought dimly. Time to work the crowd.

He plastered on his best paparazzi smile, allowing all the questions, how many scholarships are you giving away, what kind of talent are you looking for, are there any job prospects, we have a robotics competition coming up would you be free to judge? Tony smirked, Peter would definitely be entering in that competition. And he would win. No son of his No protégé of his would lose that.

Surprisingly, no one asked him about Peter. He was sure those kinds of questions would come, given one of their students had scored the only high school interning position that had ever existed in the history of Stark Industries. He had made the title official (name badge and all) at the beginning of the year, telling Peter that it had nothing to do with Spiderman, and everything to do with his genuine intelligence and promising future in the industry. Peter had taken a while to properly accept, worried he was taking the opportunity away from someone more deserving. Tony had scoffed. As if that person existed.

He was about to ask his own set of questions, wanted to hear just how good his Peter was doing, even though he already knew the kid was the best, but one the teachers took his arm and informed him the students were all seated in the main hall and ready for his address.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at not only his lost opportunity to hype up Peter, but also at the woman’s clear excitement to escort Tony to the floor, he lets himself be led, fighting the need to pull away and walk himself. He didn’t want to be a douchebag here. He needed to be on his best behaviour for Peter.

The cohort erupts into screams and booming clapping as he steps onto stage, his smile half genuine, half reflex from his decades of practice. He begins the spiel, the one Pepper wrote, the one he promised not to deviate from. He seeks Peter out quickly, hoping to see that excitement.

He doesn’t.

Peters eyes are mostly downcast, focus on his shoelaces. He can see Peters friend, Ned, beside the teen, looking excited like the other kids, but constantly throwing worried glances to Peter.

Tony tries not to let it bother him now. It could bother him later, when he could give Peter his full attention and get to the bottom of what was making him so upset. Right now he had to focus on the speech.

He finished up with an inspirational quote, not as great as his usual go break some eggs, but age appropriate and obviously affective with the way the students were standing to clap and cheer, loud excited chatter erupting amongst them all. Peter had been right, these kids were ecstatic.

The woman that had led him over before stood back on stage, moving to the microphone to settle the group. “Mr. Stark has been kind enough to allow questions today. Remember your manners, and only appropriate questions.” She warned. Tony didn’t want to answer questions. He had forgotten that this was a part of the package. He wanted to scoop Peter up and drive him to the nearest parlour and fill his sad stomach with every ice-cream flavour available.

The questions start immediately, Would the scholarship guarantee a job at Stark Industries, When would the winners be announced, Would he announce any more scholarships during the year, Did he have his suit? He laughed at the last question, eyes catching Peters, hoping the kid would share the amusement. But Peter was still looking down, not listening.

It hurt, just a little bit.

A kid stands up confidently. He hadn’t had his hand raised, and he hadn’t been chosen to ask, but he was standing anyway, his face coiled like a snake with a grin. Entitled brat, Tony thought immediately. But then he saw Peter shrink even further, and his confusion was quickly turning to anger. He didn’t know why, but this kid was trouble.

“Mr. Stark. There’s something I think you should know. I respect you enough to give you this information, for the sake of your reputation.” The boy started. There were sniggers, some turned laughter around the proud teenager. Some teachers begun to throw some worried looks between each other, even the woman from earlier ready to step in. “Okay… and what might that be?” Tony asked cautiously, unbothered that it came out with a little bite.

The teen, unfazed, continued, smile plastered on his face now. “There is a student here, that is going around and spreading horrible lies about you, which is frankly just sad, but he has been claiming to work for you, which, as I’m sure you can agree is preposterous.” A teacher steps forward, looking to intervene, but Tony stops her with a hand.

“And who might that be?” he asked. What kid was making things up? Were they trying to compete with Peter? Was this douchebag actually telling the truth? Either way, this teenager was a bully, so he knew he was going to have to approach this differently than he would with adults. There was no need to put another student down for wanting to work with him.

The teens smirk grew even more menacing, the laughter of the classmates rising. He reached down and came back up with a handful of blue sweater.

Attached to Peter Parker.

Tony lost his ability to speak. A thousand thoughts rushed through his head at once. But he quickly realised what was going on. Tony was that kid the bullies held up and refused to believe a word that came out of his mouth when he was in high school. These students didn’t believe Peters internship. Which would assume the teachers didn’t either, given their staff room behaviour.

“Mr. Stark meet Peter Parker. Now as I’m sure you are just as mortified as the rest of us, that this subpar student thinks he could score a position alongside you, let alone as a janitor for your catering staff” the class laughed louder, Tony could see Peter cheeks swell red with humiliation, eyes downcast but surely full of tears.

Hot burning rage filled in Tony’s gut. This teenager. This prick was humiliating his kid.

“So, I’m giving you the opportunity to set the record straight, and I should hope, put in place a punishment for this act of fraud and deceit.” The smartass concluded. He pushed Peter forward, and hard. Unexpected apparently, because Peter went sailing to the floor, hitting it with a loud thud. The crowd burst into laughter, only softening with the teachers mortified shushing.

At a loss and in a pit of rage, Tony was almost speechless. The prick hurt his kid.

The prick was going to die.

The teacher rushed to the microphone. “Flash Thompson! Enough, you sit down right this instant” she hissed. Tony took that moment to pull his phone out, blood boiling, hands shaking.

“Eugene, was it?” He asked loudly. The crowd was silent now, the teenager still standing, smug as ever. Peter was moving to sit back down, but Flash was quicker, grabbing the sullen teens forearm and wrenching him back beside him.

“That’s right Mr. Stark.” He said proudly, probably ready to receive his praise. He was going to receive something alright.

“Interesting, Oh here we go” he smirked. The projectors on either side of the room flickered on, Tony quick to bring up the assholes files. At least that got him paling.

“Oh look at that, GPA of only 3, that’s disappointing isn’t it. Won’t be able to apply for my scholarships” he laughed humourlessly. The teenager had the audacity to make a noise of protest, but Tony got in first.

“Oh my, look at this, a C in Physics? That must be hard for you. Can’t get into those Ivy league schools with a C can we?” He was carelessly letting the sarcasm roll in. The teachers look antsy, he has no care for them.

“And look what we have here! Intern applications Mr. Thompson! What do you have to offer, I wonder”

“That’s private!” the teen interjects hysterically. Eyes looking for support from other staff members.

“Not that private apparently. Oh my, are we really going around and calling ourselves a genius? I think that’s far from the truth. And here you are talking about fraud and deceit”

“You want to see a real genius Mr. Thompson?” he drops his voice lower, anger slipping in hard. He fiddles with his phone, the projection quickly changing to the next profile.

Peters.

“Perfect GPA, Perfect candidate for all the scholarships, and you know what else he has?” He waits to see Flash’s face tense. “He has an internship at Stark Industries as my mentee. You know why he has that? I’ll tell you, I’m sure it would be too hard for you to work out anyway. Because he is intelligent, he is respectful, and he is a damn good kid.” He spits.

The room is shocked into silence. Peters head has lifted, a blush on his cheeks.

“The only time you will call yourself a genius will be at the genius bar of Apple” he snarls. The teenager looks furious, entitled and obviously not used to being the butt of the joke.

Tony cuts him off before he can protest, “Peter will go on to be one of the greatest minds of your generation, and you only ever be good enough to work as the salesman for his products.”

There’s a lot of slack jaws in the audience. Even Peters.

He said what he has to say, and now he was through. “If any of you have any questions about Peters internship, you come through me.” He presses one of his smiles for good measure before storming off the stage, leaving the dumfounded crowd behind.

They were laughing at Peter. They were hurting him. Peter was upset because his peers couldn’t see how fantastic he was. Were they blind?

The teachers try to gush apologies, try to assure him that discipline will take place, that they don’t stand that behaviour. But he just scoffs, and leaves as soon as he can, jumping into his car and resisting the need to slam his hand into the wheel.

He grabs his phone, shooting a message off quickly to Peter.

TS: Do you want to take the rest of the day off?

He would, if he were Peter. But Peters better than him, always has been.

PP: No thanks.

And that’s all he gets. Nothing else. Nada. Zilch.

He drives away feeling even worse. Had he aggravated the problem? Did he go too far? Was Peter mad at him now?

His head was in shambles, both pleased that he was able to set the record straight, and maybe avoid Peter getting bullied, but then Peters being bullied? How had he not known? And given the amount of students laughing at Peter, and not shocked at one bullies behaviour, it was happening a lot. And then he was stuck thinking he had made it even worse. He doesn’t even realise he’s been pacing the lab for hours, unproductive and fulminated.

At least today was Friday, which meant Peter was coming over after school anyway. They could sort this out. Tony could get his answers.

But when the clock his 4.00, and Peter still hasn’t come through those doors, he starts to lose hope that the kids not angry with him. That the he was still coming for lab.

Tony slumps into his work chair, grouchy and fired up. Should he write a letter to the school about their anti-bullying schemes? Should he employ that Eugene kid to publicly fire him?

Should he mind his own business?

He’s torn from his thoughts as he hears the ding of the elevator, the familiar pads of steps approaching the lab doors. He throws a glance to the clock above the wall, frowning at the hour, past 5.00pm. Not enough time for Peter to have been on patrol, and he had no extra-curricular after school, which means either the kid was avoiding him or…

One look at his face gives him the affirmation of the alternative.

He chokes as he shoots up, rushing over to the downcast teenager. “Peter, Jesus Christ, your face”

Peters face was an array of colours, from the smears of blood, to the dark blue above his cheek, the purpling around his jaw, and the vacant black of his hazel eyes.

“Was this that Flash? Did he do this?” he growls, stepping closer to the dejected kid, still standing in the doorway. Peter looks up, Tony can see the tell-tale tear tracks that had once rolled down his ruddy cheeks.

“Why did you do that?” Peter asks quietly, almost inaudible. Tony stops in his tracks, wary of moving even closer, despite the magnet drawing him in hard. He recognises the emotions on Peters face, he knows they mean stay back. So he does.

“Pete, I didn’t mean for you to be” he gestures openly to the bruises and the bleeding.

“You didn’t need to be so mean.” He mutters, dropping his back pack to the floor. He remains in the doorway, unsure of himself, eye brows creased and tense.

“Didn’t have to be so mean? Kid, that boy was humiliating you! He pushed you! I could have been a whole lot worse” a sudden rage coils in his gut again. Be it him remembering the debacle, or his own entitled persona clawing its way to the surface, furious at the lack of gratitude. “You are going to explain yourself mister. How long has this been going on?” He crosses his arms, eyes hard and stern. He hopped that was enough to get through to the resisting teenager.

“Long enough for me to be able to handle this on my own” Peter responds defiantly, jaw set and eyes down.

“Can you stop being a goddamn saint for five seconds Peter! Jesus Christ. You don’t have to put yourself through a meat grinder just because you have superpowers you idiot!” He hates that he’s yelling. He hates himself so much. But Peter was hurt, and Peter needed to hear this.

Peter tenses harder, he turns his face up, staring Tony down. “That’s not why. These kinds of groups want to hurt someone! If they hurt me, I heal. Do you understand? I heal. The other kids? Not so lucky. So yeah, I go through a meat grinder but that’s my choice. I don’t need you fighting my battles for me.”

Tony blanches. Self-sacrificing idiot teenager.

“Yeah you really looked like you could handle yourself out there today. Really great show Parker” he scoffs. His hands itch to wipe the blood off the boys temple, to hold him close.

“Why do you care? What I do at school shouldn’t matter to you” he shot back, cheeks reddening with the shame of todays events.

“Why do I care? Dammit Peter, of course I care. You’re goddamn brilliant, you’re better than every single person in that damn school, not just in your genius, but everything. Jesus, even the last words out of your mouth you’re putting yourself last. Those kids don’t deserve to stand next to you, leave alone belittle you” he blew out a frustrated breath of air before continuing.

“I was that kid Pete. I was the kid who was different. I was 3 years younger than everyone in my class, I was the son of a billionaire, I was a smartass. Came home every day with a new bruise or a split lip, and I was told to toughen up. To fend for myself. Do you know how much I wished for once someone else would stand up for me? Someone else to kick those assholes in the balls” Peter huffed out a hesitant laugh, Tony joining in.

“What I’m trying to say kiddo, you’re not alone. You don’t have to fight this one on your own okay? Bullies are bullies. Their hits hurt, and their words hurt even more. That doesn’t mean you have to endure them so someone else doesn’t. That means you get to be the hero and stop them from hurting someone when you’re not around to be their punching bag.”

Peter slumped visibly. “I just, I was so excited about today, and they ruined it. They made me feel so embarrassed Mr. Stark. I preferred the afterschool special over that auditorium.”

Tony nodded in understanding. The humiliation was always worse than the shoves. “I’m sorry I went overboard. It just makes me so mad that people don’t see what I see. They don’t see how damn great you are.” Tony closes his eyes. Startled when he finds himself suddenly with an arm full of teenager.

Peter clings to him tightly, Tonys arms wrapping around the smaller boy just as tight. “I’m sorry too. I was embarrassed” Peter mumbles into Tonys shirt. Tony nods, enough for Peter to be able to feel the movement.

“But did it make you feel a little bit better when that dweeb got, what do you kids say, dragged?” He can feel Peters full body cringe, “oh my god” the kid groans.

Tonys just happy to feel the imprint of the smile. “It was pretty funny” Peter laughs breathily. Tony chuckles, “His face was so shocked. I think he thought I was going to thank him and offer him the internship. Dumbass”

Peter laughs again, it’s louder now. Tony pushes the boy out of his arms, taking in his battered face. “Can we clean this up now? And then have a nice long chat about round two tomorrow when I drag that tool by his manicured nails?” Tony smirks, watching as Peter winced. “We’ll talk about it” the teenager pleads.

Tony takes pity, wrapping and arm around the boys shoulder, leading them both out and towards the kitchen where his first aid kit was stored. And his chocolate. This felt like one of those occasions.

“I’d understand. If you had to deny it though” Peter says softly after a moment of silence.

Tony frowns confused. “Deny what?”

Peter sighs sadly. “I know I’m just a poor orphan kid from Queens. If you needed to deny our internship for the image, I’d understand.”

Tony swings them around so fast Peter almost loses his balance. He stands in front of the kid, hands on his shoulders, ducking to force the eye contact.

“Peter. Listen to me. I will never be ashamed of you. Kid, in a couple of years I won’t be ‘Tony Stark’, anymore. I’ll be Peter Parkers first mentor. You are going to rewrite the history books. I know it. I’ll eventually be a small detail in your biography of the greatest minds of the century. And you know what? I’m going to be a proud parent watching from the sidelines, cheering you on every step of the way. Nothing would ever make me prouder of you Peter Parker.”

Peters eyes are filling with tears, Tony doesn’t think they are ready for crying in front of each other just yet, so he turns on his heel again, pulling the dumbstruck kid towards the kitchen counter.

Peter wipes his swollen eyes when he thinks Tony isn’t looking, hissing as Tony begins to dab away at the open cuts.

The kid looks lost in thought, deep in his own mind. Tony decides to pull him out before he gets too down. “Want to tell me what that big brain of yours is thinking right about now?”

Peter thinks for a second more, face curling into a semblance of a smirk.

“I wouldn’t have taken you to knowing the Apple customer service positions” he grins,

“unless you were a nerd.”

Day 3 Pairing: Izuna/Tobirama Word count: 1524 Word: Pyrrhic - won at too great a cost

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Pyrrhic - Izuna/Tobirama

Izuna traces the tattoo sometimes just as he does with all the others. Out of all of them this one strikes him as quiet and less meaningful than the red slashes that adorn white skin as a constant reminder to their owner of the things he has lost and the wrongs he has done. Convincing Tobirama that he is worthy as a human being and not a monster is a monumental task but, like his brother before him, Izuna is a stubborn bastard. He won’t give up until he’s made his point.

Sometimes he asks for the stories behind the markings and sometimes he even gets an answer. The first time they sat up among rumpled gray sheets in the dark while Tobirama murmured quietly the tale of the tattoos that started it all, that was the night when Izuna first realized they had long passed the line of just fucking around, that they are together now whether they are ready to admit it or not. In public they snap and sneer like they always have but here behind closed doors where no one can see them, here they are learning all the ways to knit themselves together as only two broken people can.

More than a year passes after the first time they fall in to bed together, several months since the first time they whispered quietly in the dark, before finally Izuna thinks to question the only tattoo that differs from the others. Black ink instead of red, letters where the others are drawn as slashes and lines. At first it seems as though tonight is one of the nights when Tobirama will simply ignore his question. More often than not he just isn’t in the mood to delve in to his own psyche and Izuna is far from a psychotherapist; he wants to know but he is hardly going to pry just to satisfy his own curiosity, not when he knows that doing so will hurt the man he has come to love so deeply.

He is only moments away from spitting out some other random thought to change the subject when Tobirama surprises him by beginning to speak, not bothering to roll over from where he is spread out on his back while Izuna’s fingers trace the black letters at the base of his ribs.

“It’s a word I found in a very old text and I had to look through several dictionaries just to find one that still included the definition for a word no one uses anymore.”

“What’s it mean, then?” They both hear his real question even if he doesn’t say it. What could possibly make one word so important that Tobirama felt the need to permanently etch it on to his own skin in such a way that it stands out from all the rest?

Red eyes open just to stare at the ceiling, his expression empty. “Pyrrhic. It means ‘won at too great a cost’.”

“Huh. Well that’s not very specific. Everything in our lives has been won at too great a cost.” Izuna tries to a grin to lighten the mood but Tobirama only continues to stare unseeing at the darkness above them.

“I got it for you,” he admits quietly.

“Oh.” That certainly isn’t what he’d been expecting. Izuna flounders as the silence goes on, trying to come up with something to say to that yet unable to think of anything appropriate. He’s never imagined anything on Tobirama’s body could have something to do with him – he’s still alive, after all.

Tobirama lifts one hand to trace the letters for himself, not needing to look down at them to find their shapes unerringly, gentle in a way he so rarely is with himself. “You very nearly died at my hands and while I am sure that Hashirama would have eventually bulled his way over your brother to found this village anyway I cannot help but wonder sometimes what that world would have been like. He would have everything he ever asked for, we would have won, but at what cost?”

“Cost?” Izuna repeats faintly. He can’t help but notice finally that the letters of the tattoo in question have been placed directly over the same spot where he himself now wears the scar from Tobirama’s blade.

“Yes. It would have cost Madara his sanity and everything that tethers him to this world. It would have cost my brother his best friend. It would have torn the rest of us apart bit by bit until we fell back in to the same pieces we were before Hashirama stitched us all together in to the motley crew we are. And I…” Pausing, Tobirama closes his eyes for a moment and presses the palm of his hand flat over the black ink of his tattoo. “It would have cost me you,” he finishes in a far-away voice.

“To be fair, you wouldn’t have known anything about this.” One of Izuna’s hands waves vaguely between them but Tobirama only shakes his head, still without looking over.

“No but that isn’t the point.”

Sitting forward to slide his hand over the other man’s, Izuna squeezes gently until finally their eyes met. “What is the use in getting caught up in what might have been? It didn’t happen and that’s what’s important. Were we even a thing when you got this?” Tobirama shakes his head. “So you were just…wow. You were beating yourself up about this even back then?”

His partner sighs and looks away again but Izuna is having none of that.  With a determined frown he crawls over to slide one leg over Tobirama’s lap, settling himself across slim hips and leaning forward to take the man’s chin in one hand until irritated red eyes meet his once more.

“Don’t be dumb,” he says without preamble.

“Excuse me?”

“I said don’t be dumb! There’s no point in worrying about things that are already done and in the past. Yeah, I could have died from that blade if it had slid in just a few inches higher. And yeah, losing me would definitely have done a number on Mads, he’s been super clingy ever since our other brothers were killed. But I didn’t die and things turned out fine. I appreciate that you don’t ever want to forget the lessons in what might have been but dwelling on it will only drive you crazy.”

He finishes his little speech by raising both eyebrows and giving his partner a significant look. Tobirama frowns at him a little deeper but can’t look away without knocking their foreheads together and so settles for pouting, an expression that makes him look more like an angsting teenager than a grown man.

Several minutes of silence pass between them as Izuna forces himself to stay quiet, not wanting to rush the other but allow him some time to think. Strangely, he finds that he also needs a handful of seconds to allow the knowledge to settle that even back then Tobirama had regretted what he’d almost done, that even before they learned to see past their old rivalry he had been thinking ahead and realizing what nearly became of them all. On the one hand it is very sweet. On the other, well, leave it to Tobirama to find the dark lining underneath the silver lining. He’s a genius but he’s also quite the pessimist a lot of the time.

“We should sleep,” Tobirama murmurs eventually. A smile touches Izuna’s lips at such a blatant request for the subject to be dropped but he has one more thing to say.

“It’s a nice tattoo but I was thinking we could change it. Do you think we could work the letters somehow to say ‘pyro’ instead?”

“Because you like to set fire to everything you lay eyes on?”

“No! Because you like to blow stuff up in that lab of yours – which I am still angry that you won’t let me in to, by the way. I’m not a walking disaster like your brother, I know how to keep my hands to myself!” Izuna considers it a win when Tobirama lets out a single reluctant huff of laughter.

Rather than crawl back over to the other half of the bed he usually claims Izuna lets his body slump down on to the mattress right there, keeping one leg draped across both of Tobirama’s while he snuggles up against the man’s side. For someone with barely any affinity for fire he sure is warm most of the time. A strong arm wraps itself around his shoulders and pulls him in tightly for a few moments before loosening to drape around his waist. Izuna buries his smile against Tobirama’s neck.

“I think I’d rather like to keep it,” he hears from just above his head. “Looking at it has always made me think of you. Maybe now I will think of…better things.”

“Yeah, only fluff and rainbows for us shinobi,” Izuna says.

Tobirama grunts and squeezes him again and this time when silence falls it is only the calm of two men falling in to dreamless sleep.

Review #3

 Luminous by Slytheryong

Fandom: NCT

Pairing: Markhyuck (Mark Lee/Lee Donghyuck)

Style: Chapter

Status: Ongoing (As of 12-1-18)

POV: Third person limited, shifted intermittently depending on the character of focus. Primarily limited to Mark.

Word Count: 13,707 (As of 12-1-18)

Summary:  “There are a lot of things I would never like to hear in my lifetime, that Mark Lee is one of the greatest mages of our time is one of them.”

In which Mark Lee discovers he has magical abilities and is invited to a prestigious school of magic.

“You’re a wizard, Mark Lee.”  “Shut up, Donghyuck.”

Plot:  The story starts out by introducing us to our protagonist, the lovely Mark Lee, and the world that he lives in. It’s a world where magic exists, knights and mages are at odds with one another, and where creatures threaten to tear the world apart. (Said creatures have yet to be brought back up in the story so far, but I’m curious to see how they’ll be involved.)

Mark is the son of a family of knights, so he’s brought up his entire life expecting that he’s going to follow the family tradition and become a knight himself. His mother works in the capital selling silk, and Mark attended school there, so he spent a lot of time in the capital as a child. 

Anyways, one day Mark was messing around with his friends Kang Daniel and Hwang Hyujin (which is a cute easter egg to multifandom stans if you read this! Jeongin is also brought up in the second chapter, revealed as Jisung’s roommate at the school of magic.) in the city. They’re causing problems, as teenage boys always tend to do. They wander into this magic emporium, which is funny because literally none of them appear to be magical by any means. 

While in the emporium, Snuggyu’s Emporium, something catches Mark’s eye among all of the various things that could catch his attention in there: a staff. The shopkeeper catches him and calls him out on his interest in the item, telling Mark that it belonged to a mage by the name of Moon Taeil, the current headmaster of the School of Magic. He gives Mark a little speech that leaves the boy both dazed and inspired before Mark’s buds call him out of his bubble and usher him out of the shop.

It’s revealed that, as predicted, the boys did stir up some trouble while Mark was having his little education session with Sunggyu. Daniel snagged this little violet orb that they were told specifically not to touch or mess with. The shopkeeper isn’t a fool, so he obviously comes out after noticing and demands the boys give him the orb back. Hyunjin and Daniel decided to pull the bad kid card, refuse, and before Mark knows it, he’s running after them through the streets as the shopkeeper chases after them.

Then, there’s a wall of ice that’s summoned by the man, and the plot kicks off when Mark holds his hand out, full prepared to crash directly into it, shoots out coils of magic that burn the solid mass and turn it into water on the cobblestone.

Mark’s father watches the whole thing... And he’s not the only one. The commander of the knights tells him that he’s an arcane mage, the rarest type of mage in existence. It’s later revealed that there is only one arcane mage in every generation and that Mark Lee is the arcane mage of the current.

From there, Mark is taken from his home in a caravan that takes him away to the School of Magic. From there, he meets two of the professors from the school: Chittaphon/Ten, the only elven resident at the school, and Johnny, professor of shapeshifting. They fill him in on what exactly to expect, all about the categories of magic, and explain to him that the headmaster himself will be his personal mentor. From that moment on, Mark is thrown into a magical school where he knows nothing, nobody, and is thrown head first into advanced classes that will kill him if he isn’t careful. 

Writing Evaluation: The author’s writing has the type of style to it that I personally enjoy reading; The writing itself was immersive, descriptions well timed, filled with imagery, and the movement of scenes was done in a way that wasn’t fatuous or inexperienced. The author has a very good understanding of how to keep a story moving but also how to slow things down to emphasize their points. There was lovely use of literary elements such as foreshadowing in the first chapter. There are a lot of questions that the reader starts to think about as they read, primarily about what exactly happened to the last arcane mage.

 The author does a fantastic job of world-building, setting the scene for the readers, and really drawing them into this magical school. I felt while reading it as if I were at the school myself! Not nearly enough author possess the skill of sharing imagination, so I appreciate the fact that Slytheryong is able to do just that.

Favorites: Some of my favorite quirks from this fic include the following:

- Johnny’s relationship with Jisung ! Every time Johnny sees him and starts to go on and on about how much he loves him and believes in him, I can’t help but laugh to myself. 

- Jisung is really well written by the author in general, so that’s another thing I want to acknowledge. They did an outstanding job of capturing his “cool” demeanor and exposing him for who he is with his friends

- I ADORE that Jaehyun is the ice professor ! As someone who loves ice magic regardless of the au or storyline, and someone who biases Jaehyun, this combination is perfect.

- Going off of the ice topic, I love that Jeno is the top ice mage at the school and that the author decided to give him his We Young hair haha

- I love that Stray Kids and Wanna One have been mentioned. I also really like that Sunggyu was brought into this! As a multifandom reader, it added a nice little crossover touch that I appreciated

- I love the way that the classes are organized as well. The different types of magic are all of interesting and I can’t wait to see how they relate to the rest of the characters in the chapters to come

- I’m REALLY excited to see what the author does with NOMIN. 

Quotes:   “Seriously, what was in those noodles Sicheng made him for dinner? Creepy sauce…” “Well, at least now the room is a little less emo.” Johnny adds with a grin that quickly diminishes when he glances at Taeyong and the entropic mage glares at him. The shapeshifter quickly adverts his gaze before whispering, “Not completely emo-less, but still- “

“What a cute little rat! That’s right, Jisung. Go off and be great!” ... The professor sighs then before telling Kun quietly, “A whole rat and he remembered the tail this time too. Ten won’t believe this. God, what a shapeshifting genius!”      “Wow, a whole rat with a tail, as rats should have.” Kun mutters sarcastically, looking none too impressed, “He’s really the best shapeshifter of our time.”

“You’re kind of… basic.”  

“Literally, he’s been diagnosed with insanity from the medical board. But he’s a great professor. I guess that outweighs the fact that he’s a complete psychopath.”

“Don’t let Jisung’s attempts to be cool fool you.” Jeongin tells Mark with a grin, “He throws a fit whenever they run out of pancakes in the dining hall.”

Rating + Rec?  Would I recommend this to someone? Yes, I most certainly would recommend this to anyone that enjoys magical stories and can appreciate world building. I also would reccomend reading this if you’re multifandom just so that you can understand who the author is referencing by mentioning certain side characters, but you obviously don’t have to stan Stray Kids or Wanna One to appreciate the fic.

Plot/Plot Creativity: 10/10 ! I thoroughly enjoy the plot of this fic so far and I can’t wait to see how it progresses. I will most likely make an update of this review once the entire fic is completed and/or reviews for the individual chapters as they’re updated because I enjoy the storyline so much.

Writing: 9/10. I’m only taking a point off for a few verb tense issues, a mispelling or two, and a grammatic error I found

Enjoyment: 10/10

Overall: 9.75/10

I really enjoyed the mess that was this fic and I scored it so highly because it was something so unique and so fabulously executed that I went back and re-read it twice just to make sure I retained it all.

The Most Beautiful Moment In Life: #BTSxCitiField

Wow. I’m home back from New York, where I had the amazing gift of being able to see BTS live on their Love Yourself world tour. I’m literally out of words to describe it, but I’ll try.

I saw in someone’s post about seeing them on the Wings tour that they were sad for a week after and I thought to myself, “it’s just a concert! How the heck would that happen?”

...and here I am, having cried a bunch of times in the last two days (though none of them actually during the concert, there was too much adrenaline), now I am living it.  I really feel it in my body. I’m exhausted. My voice is destroyed from so much cheering and fan-chanting. But I’m also sort of happy about that, because it’s a marker of having gone through that experience and I want to hold onto that. I was off work Monday and spent the entire day at my house watching Bon Voyage and Run episodes (didn’t realize they were only 20 minutes!!) to console myself.

I’m sad the concert’s over, and I’m also sad that the Love Yourself era is also basically over too, some additional concert dates notwithstanding. This era really encapsulates everything I love about BTS: their positive message, their incredible songwriting and producing and music in general, and their growth as artists. I have complete faith in our boys that whatever comes next will be fantastic and that they’ll keep growing, I just desperately hope this isn’t their peak. But regardless, I’m glad I got to see this show because it felt like such a special one—their first sold-out North America stadium show. And it seems like BTS felt like it was special as well.

I’m also feeling intense love, because love is at the heart of it all. BTS’ love for ARMY and their earnest and sincere desire that we love ourselves, and be our best selves (see: Magic Shop, etc). And ARMY’s love and deep appreciation for BTS seeing us and our struggles, and believing in our ability to succeed. I was a little leery of calling myself an ARMY before this concert, mostly because of ARMY’s reputation on the internet as being kind of a crazy and intense fandom, but I fully embrace ARMY-dom now, because I understand that it’s really all about love.

So to recap, I’m going to do some best-ofs and link to Twitter and Insta pictures and videos. My phone camera is the literal worst, which is why I unfortunately don’t have any of my own!

Best deep thought: RM, our leader, always and forever. Sometimes I forget that he’s a literal genius because he’s also so derpy and cute, and then it’s moments like this that I re-remember that he does absolutely nothing related to their music or public presentation by accident or without forethought.

Via @mimibtsghost

He—and all of them, really—understand so well their role in our lives and our role in theirs. ARMY loves BTS, and BTS loves all of us so much, and truly wants us all to be happy and to live our best and whole selves. RM literally said this in his UN speech (which he also mentioned). When he says Speak Yourself, I think what he means is a combination of “Tell your story,” “Speak out,” and “Speak your truth.”

Best bias wreck: Jimin

Now I’m one of those people who legit loves all the members almost the same (except for Jin, I don’t love him quite as much) and my biases are Suga and V, but only by a little. But oh my goodness, Jimin was such a bias-wrecker in this concert. His solo set was ridiculous, he was wearing this beautiful sparkly top and did his amazing lyrical dance moves. So many eyebrow quirks and hearts. I’m completely dead. The friend I was with is a Jimin stan, and I think they were like, “how did it take you this long???” I now have three coequal biases. Here’s a good one, and this cutie pic.

Best corny-yet-adorable moments: J-Hope and V

J-hope’s Trivia: Just Dance stage was J-Hope being a major hype-man for the entire concert. And oh man, did it work. He’s such an exuberant live performer and the perfect choice for the second song. That white suit?? And his joy and enthusiasm is completely infectious. Hope World was my favorite of the three rappers’ mixtapes, and I was happy that his Trivia song was very much in that style, lots of old-school rap vibes. His joy is just so pure.

Also, Taehyung’s sign-off for ARMY at the end of the show: “You are the brighest stars in my universe.” Corny, but sweet and touching; also poetic because the ARMY bombs really do look like stars to the performers on stage, and we are orbiting around them, pulled into their gravity. Ah, V, so poetical as always <3

Unexpected song I liked live: Epiphany

Jin’s not my favorite member (see above), and I’m honestly a bit mystified by why people seem to like him so, so much. I’m also not a lover of ballads, usually, and the Epiphany video was fine but not one of my favorites. But I really liked this song live, way more than I was expecting to. Jin does have a really great voice, and it’s a bit less breathy than Jungkook’s in particular (still love you, Jungkook, you also sound great live!) He really gave a powerful vocal performance, and I’m going to put Epiphany back in my listening rotation…..after I listen to Suga’s I Need You x Seesaw remix another 15 times, sorrynotsorry.

Best gay/ship moments: Vkook, Suga

Vkook showed up again at this concert in force! One moment I saw myself, one I missed and found later on Twitter.

1) Tae hopped onto Jungkook’s back for a piggyback ride. It was super-brief but I know it happened because I distinctly remember thinking, “huh, usually Tae hops on Jungkook’s back, but Jungkook hopped on Tae’s this time. Interesting!” Turns out I was wrong and Tae hopped onto Jungkook as usual! Here’s a still, via @harchu2

2) Apparently, Tae also gave Jungkook a little kiss and/or nuzzle on the neck at the end. I completely missed this myself, but hey, it’s there on the video. Vkook, you’re being so loud <3

Suga’s Seesaw performance also pinged my gaydar in a major way, I’m not even sure why myself. He started off lying on this white couch. And he’s just so sassy. And this sparkly red top with a sash that he was wearing. Suga, you’re the best. Here’s a really nice pic, via @maggiejslg + Seesaw clip

Best PSA: RM

Three separate times, RM said that we shouldn’t shove one another for our safety. Our boys are so considerate and want everyone to have a good time!

Most impressive stunts: V, Suga

V’s Singularity set was fcking amazing. He’s really the most stellar performer, such a true artist. It seems positively unbelievable that he’s only 22 (what the heck was I doing when I was 22??). His little video before his solo stage (all members had them) was him surrounded by dark flowers and a pane of glass that frosted over. The hand-in-the-coat dance, and his backup dancers with masks that moved with him…the visuals of his set were stunning, and his singing was really stellar live (well, truly, everyone’s was). Here’s a clip.

In Suga’s Seesaw performance, he did this slick little stunt where he slid down a lit white long prop bar, like a seesaw. It looked really cool. I love the song Seesaw, it really shows how versatile Suga is, and his performance was a giant f-you to everyone who thinks he can’t sing or dance.

Best surprise songs: Dope and So What

Dope has always been one of my favorite songs. It’s so clearly and lovingly descended from 90’s American boy band stuff, but updated and, frankly, better. It’s got the killer hook and the great dancing, and is almost always the first video I show someone when I’m trying to explain why I love this K-pop band so much. I thought there was next to no chance of their playing it, but they did!!! I can die happy now. It was part of the medley in the middle, including Boyz With Fun, Attack On Bangtan, Fire, Bapsae (another one I was thrilled to hear), and Dope.

So What is also lowkey my favorite LYS: Tear track (though like the members, really only by a little on what’s a phenomenal album overall). I knew there wasn’t a dance for it so I didn’t think they’d play it, and was so, so thrilled when they did! It was like having a huge party with BTS and ARMY at the end of the show.

Best emotional vulnerability moment: Jimin

Jimin did some excellent crying at the end of the show, when they all came out in black t-shirts and addressed ARMY directly. Oh my goodness, it was so cute and sweet. They’ve really come so far; Yoongi tends to respond through bravado and celebrating their accomplishments, and Jimin cries. I just love so much that he’s modeling being emotional and vulnerable, and everyone just wants to give him a big ol’ hug.

Such beautiful crying.

Best Jungkook moment: End filming

At the very end of the concert, right as they were about to sink down into the floor, Jungkook grabbed a camera and started filming ARMY. I was just like, “wow, they want to remember this night just as much as we want to.”

Favorite fanchant: DNA

There were so many fun fanchant moments. My only regret is that I didn’t learn the words to Seesaw better (@StanningBTSpod, you did warn me, I should have!) But DNA has the name bit at the beginning, and BTS! BTS! BTS! in the chorus, it was just super fun. Toward the end of the concert honestly there was so much screaming and such that it was hard to even hear the fanchants. That was fine too! 

Happy me success moments 

Met the wonderful @daftlolita waiting in line to get into the venue, it was super great to hang out! 

I made this jacket, and got a bunch of compliments! My entire goal was to find other queer ARMYs and I think I pretty much succeeded. 

I also gave out most of the pins I made (made a bunch of extra ones precisely for that purpose). I don’t love Twitter that much and much prefer interacting with people in person, and generally feel like I succeeded on that front.

I kinda wish I’d gotten at least a little merch, but honestly the ticket was expensive enough. I also kinda wanted an ARMY bomb, but also, see ticket price. I tried to go to the BT21 store in Times Square on Sunday before I left and it was an hour wait so….no go on that one, I’ll get back to New York soon though.

At the end of it all, I cannot tell you how indescribably proud I am to call myself an ARMY. Although our fandom has its flaws for sure because we live in a broken world, to me, being an ARMY means co-creating a better world with BTS. A happier world.

A world where we love ourselves.

A world where there’s no stigma attached to mental illness and we can ask for the help we need

Where we take care of one another and are mindful of others (no shoving!!)

Where we celebrate and embrace difference

Where all young people have the resources they need to thrive

And where people of all races, genders, and ranges of life experience come together to express joy. I’m tearing up again as I write this.

Arundhati Roy has this beautiful quote that I’ve seen around activist spaces. It goes, “Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.”

I saw a small glimpse of that world at #BTSCitiField. Janelle Monae will lead us through the narrow places into that world. Or, as BTS have it, from the desert to the ocean. And BTS will be there to make sure we drink enough water and are good to one another while we’re moving forward.

Suga, you said you’d be back. I’ll hold you to that promise.

And please, wear that red sparkly top again. It was absolutely killer. I purple all of you beautiful, special, luminous men who are making our world better, one song at a time.

ASK THE FANDOM--RESPONSES

Here’s this week’s Ask the Fandom question:

I’m curious as to whether fans think that Logan is a well-read individual? He throws around large words like anthropomorphic and was enrolled in the newspaper class, which could hint at a love or enjoyment of the written word. I also find it interesting that many non-Navy Logan fics have him working in the journalism or literary industry. Is there a hint of this in canon?

And here’s what you had to say:

@leuberpwnage--Briefly: little hints are dropped about Logan's appreciation of literature (and film, and television, and music...) left and right. Along with the constant allusions ranging from Citizen Kane to Beach Boys to Prince, he references tons of literature (in his usual sly way). 1984 is not, in fact, the only book he has read.

If the asker was referring to his fanon penchant for writing, I point them to that one time when he actually tried and out-wrote all of the other kids' preppy essays. He may have used an uncredited quote or two from a cult movie, but that doesn't negate the pages and pages of quality writing that undoubtedly followed (for a high-schooler, in any case).

@cheshirecatstrut--Yes, I think there’s lots of evidence to suggest that, despite his skater-bro fight-club persona, Logan reads a lot and is good with language.

1) He’s very well-spoken–no ums or uhs, no incorrect grammar, uses lots of big words. Also he’s verbally witty and makes many literary/historical/pop culture allusions in conversations.

2) His inspirational voicemail messages are quotes from classic novelists.

3) He’s a good writer, as evinced by the fact that he won an essay contest. (The Easy Rider speech is about 2 paragraphs long and the essay was multiple pages–he wrote the bulk of it). 

4) His test scores were high enough to get him into Hearst, an elite private college. Even if he aced math, he wouldn’t be accepted with a low verbal score, and he says at one point he’s bad at math. So we should assume he aced verbal and did moderately well on math.

5) He seems to take mostly liberal arts classes in college (mass comm, sociology, classes that require essay tests) and these subjects require a ton of reading, good comprehension skills, and the ability to write well.

6) When he and Veronica argue, he almost always shuts her down, although she’s extremely intelligent and expresses herself well. No other character on the show is capable of out-arguing Veronica, not even Keith.

@millenderj--@cheshirecatstrut you said it perfectly!!

@absolutelyiris--That’s it! All points valid. The issues for Logan have always been discipline, drive and self-esteem, all of which he lacked. I personally never considered Logan to be dumb, just unwilling to push himself beyond what’s necessary. He knows a lot of obscure references, nice “SAT” words, seems to be Brain to Dick’s Pinky, and keeps up with Veronica consistently, there’s no reason to think he’s stupid, really. That’s why I always found Veronica basically calling him a meathead in Wichita Linebacker to be such a low blow- and judging by his response, he thought it to be hurtful as well. Dude isn’t dumb.

@iamjmgardner--I think some of the confusion stems from the problematic characterization of Logan in S3.  S1 and S2 Logan, for all intents and purposes, is a pretty decent student. I mean, he keeps attending school, even winning an essay contest well after he’s the only one responsible for himself and his dad is arrested.  Not to mention the fact that he still takes the SATs/ACTs and standardized tests in preparation for … something … so we can assume that whether he planned to go to college or not, he at least covered his basis.

During the S1 and S2, we have Logan voicemail messages from several writers that all speak to him being a literati on some level.

S3, for whatever reason, decided to play up the “Logan is a total meathead slacker who only fights, goes to weight-lifting, and barely passes his classes.” Frankly, this is a bullshit and not really in-line with the character we saw during S1 and S2.  Now, if you want to tell me that Logan starts doing poorly in college because he’s struggling with grief, depression, guilt, and all the rest of it from the traumatic ending of S2…then, yes, I could see that, but Logan doing poorly in S3 because he’s “not smart” or witty or clever, I don’t believe.

Now, is Logan a reader or well-read?

Let’s take a look:

In the main rooms of Logan’s home, there are no books to speak of not even on the bookshelves.

And remember that one time Mr. Echolls reads a book?

In the few glimpses, we get of Logan’s room though, he has books on his shelves, and while I can’t make out any of the titles, they’re not just school books but ones that live there full-time

Reading is a form of escapism, a chance to experience another world, another person’s life, and to get away from your own for awhile.  With everything we know about Logan’s life, I think it’s safe to say that he needed an ongoing outlet and way to escape from that, so, yes, I think he’s well-read.

@happilyshanghaied--Agree with all of this, except I don’t think Dick is ‘Pinky’ to Logan’s ‘Brain’. He’s not dumb either. I think Dick cultivates a shallow, idiot persona bc his Dad always preferred the popular dudebro son over the geeky math genius son. I find it hard to believe anybody closely related to Cass would be stupid. Also, he’s extremely witty and often holds his own bantering with Veronica. And like…he somehow got into Hearst?

RE: Logan

I always had the impression Logan was better read than Veronica and definitely more sophisticated and worldly. IMO Logan’s intelligence is what Veronica likes most about him (and vice versa). I always headcanoned little Logan reading Lynn’s scripts with her to help her practice her lines. Maybe if she was filming a literary adaptation, he read the original with her?There’s a reason people like to write Logan as a writer so often.

@shesgotalionsheart--Oh yay! This is actually my question!

I suspect that Logan is genuinely an avid reader; an activity that contributes heavily to his repertoire of snappy comebacks and skills as a writer. Although we mostly saw references to his hobbies which include surfing and video games, I feel like he would retreat to books in private moments when he isn’t entertaining the masses. My head canon is that Logan used books as a release from the real world, in which his dad abused him and his mom was an alcoholic. Because in books the hero of the story can be true to himself/herself and react in ways that are not always feasible in real life. 

@adorkableauthor (via twitter)-- Yes. I think Logan was well read and did well in school, even if he came off as a slacker. I think he made references to things that he would only know of if he was an active reader.

@isa (via twitter)--Yes. Logan is well read and he enjoys reading but doesn't care to show it, Even though if you have a conversation with him and he cares enough he will show you how much he knows about the topic.

Avengers: Infinity War Review

Avengers: Infinity War is the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s latest venture, directed by Anthony and Joe Russo. It takes place 2 years after the events of Avengers Civil War and follows Thanos on his quest to gather all the infinity stones and destroy half of the universe.

As this is a film that has been 10 years in the making, with elements and threads from nearly every MCU film, there is a lot to talk about and most of it consist some kind of spoiler. I will go over general impressions in the first half and get into most substantial, plot related spoilers in the latter, but if you don’t want to know anything about this movie before seeing it, I suggest you come back to this article after you’ve already done so. 

This is a difficult movie to talk about; it will definitely draw out a reaction but how positive or negative will hinge on how much you love event comics and Thanos as a character. I can’t say I liked it, but there wasn’t much that I thought was objectively wrong with it, in the way of say the Last Jedi. So let’s start first with the things I liked. 

Nearly every character that’s in this movie gets a moment to shine, be it an action beat, a scene, or just a good one liner. At no point in the film did it feel like a character was underutilized or unnecessary and the Russos do a great job at juggling all the different personalities and plot-lines. Despite the sheer amount of people the action is clear, the film rarely feels like it drags and more or less uses all its players to their fullest potential, with several having a lot more room to breathe and play.

The plot as I said is pretty pedestrian; it’s just “Thanos wants the stones so he can destroy the world and the heroes want to stop him” which works for this type of story. It’s nothing to write home about and the twists come from the individual character plot-lines and while I didn’t love it, it was pretty unobtrusive and allowed for more character interaction which is always a positive in my opinion.

The action is also for the most part excellent, with the Russos making sure everyone gets at least one scene where the kick ass, including the villains. They also get pretty creative with the different powers in the film, especially the infinity stones. There are several downright amazing scenes that showcase the time, reality and soul gems, and the two characters who get to show off the most in terms of power are definitely Thor and Strange.

Speaking of, another thing I liked was that the characters that carried the plot and got the most screen time weren’t the ones I expected would. Tony is the only one who I knew would get a lot of screen time and does, but I actually really liked his story-line; it was probably one of the best the MCU has done so far. The Russos really like and understand Tony’s character, and his emotional conflict having to do with the fear of losing Earth and all his friends, his guilt over the Avengers dissolving, him returning back to paranoia after the dissolution and creating the nano-tech suit were all excellent. The ending was also incredibly powerful for Tony specifically and there is one scene that was so emotionally visceral, it actually unsettled me.

Thor was another character that got a lot of screen time and I’m still somewhat conflicted over his character. I loved Ragnarok and I think Waititi’s Thor was the best and most accurate one we’ve gotten so far. So I was really worried when I read an interview with Hemsworth which talked about how he at first didn’t like the direction his character was going in.

And at first I agreed with him; the beginning of the film especially felt like Marvel just hates Thor and all of his supporting characters and in a way completely negates the ending and the message of Ragnarok, because it makes everything that happens in that movie irrelevant so we could get this one. What I did like was that at least (unlike Taika) the Russos gave Thor a moment to grieve and come to terms with the all the horror that happened to him in these two films and and just be human. There is a pretty touching scene between him and Rocket which I really appreciated and their pairing was very entertaining.

Strange was another character that got to shine and I liked his dynamic with Tony, especially Strange giving up the stone to save Tony’s life (even if he had ulterior motives), after plainly saying he would save the stone over everyone.

And now for some stuff I didn’t like. I’ll start with the more minor things and build up to the two major problems that I had with this movie. ACTUAL SPOILERS FROM HERE ON OUT FOLKS.

Firstly, this is an event comic in movie form with all the good and bad that comes with it. It’s all action and spectacle and contains surprisingly little humanity, other than in the form of jokey jokes and one liners. The tone is grim and though the film doesn’t take itself too seriously it still pauses for grandiose speeches which absolutely kill the momentum dead. Combined with the amount of characters this means that every character that isn’t plot relevant would get one line, or one scene or mostly one joke and then they are out of the movie.

People like Nat and Cap, who have been veterans of the MCU get completely lost in the shuffle. Sure they get fight scenes, but they don’t get any kind of emotional backstory. Bucky, Sam and Rhodey might as well not be here for all they do, even if they do get some funny lines here and there. Bruce fares a bit better, at least being present in most of the film, the entirety of the Black Panther cast gets like, a scene and a half and let’s not even get into people like Pepper, Loki and Wong who literally get ejected out of the film after one scene.

Gamora, Thor and Tony, are the only characters who get any emotional substance to them; the rest aren’t even deigned a subplot beyond the minimum necessary requirement to tie them into the main plot. An especially egregious example of this are both Wanda and Vision and Peter and Gamora’s romances.

Both of these romances were set up in previous films, but while they had time to slowly develop, here they need to be at Earth-shattering, I-need-you-to-kill-me-or-the-world-ends levels. This is less bad with Peter and Gamora because we’ve had more time with both characters and two whole movies to develop them, but Vision and Wanda only started really interacting in Civil War, and now they are at the stage where they are promised to each other? I also didn’t like that both romances had the same resolution; in case things go wrong Gamora and Vision ask to be killed, the only person who can do it is Peter or Wanda and we get a dramatic scene where exactly that happens only for Thanos to swoop in with one of the stones and change the outcome. Diminishing returns, is all I’m saying.

Wanda’s character had nothing to it beyond being worried and in love with Vision, but Peter… oh poor Peter.

First he gets into a stupid pissing contest with Thor about who is manlier which was just the most inane, stupid thing, then he does the exact same with Tony, and then (because the film needs him too) completely loses his mind about Gamora, and attacks Thanos, allowing him to steal the time gem and escape. Look, Peter was never the smartest person, and he does have an insecure, competitive, peacocking streak, but he was never an idiot like this film makes him out to be! Honestly all the Guardians are shafted; Mantis and Drax are barely in the film, Groot gets a single scene of cool, Rocket, while funny is relegated to being Thor’s sidekick/psychiatrist and Peter is turned into an idiot!

And now we get to Gamora. Poor Gamora, this movie did her dirty. Just a reminder, Gamora is one of the most skilled and bad-ass assassins in the galaxy, she is notorious and infamous in the Guardians films. Her entire plot in vol 2 was coming to terms not just with the abuse that Thanos inflicted on her as a child, but also the abuse she was complicit in with the other children, specifically Nebula who she was actually close to. The film ends with them starting to come to terms with this, and forgiving each other, but not Thanos who doesn’t deserve their forgiveness.

But then in this movie, she gets fooled into thinking she killed Thanos, gets kidnapped by Thanos, leads him to the soul stone and gets unceremoniously killed as Thanos’ sacrifice to get the stone. And all the time, she gets emotionally blackmailed and gas-lit by Thanos who keeps calling her his daughter, saying he wants to see her on Titan’s throne, how he sacrificed his crazy ass mission to save her once on her home-planet and choses her as the one thing in the universe he loves but has to trade to get the soul gem. WHAT?

Are we supposed to feel bad about Thanos? Thanos, the sociopathic, sadistic, torturous, unambiguous villain, who by that point in the film has killed the entirety of Asgard, including Loki and Heimdal, and the Grandmaster and the entirety of Knowhere? I absolutely hated the implication that I should feel sad because Gamora was wrong and he did love her. Not only does it badly undercut the message of vol 2 which is abuse is real and has lasting effects, but the movie wants us to on some level side with Thanos and think that Gamora really was ungrateful, since he obviously loved her and she betrayed him. They even give her this stupid speech about how the universe is punishing him by demanding he sacrificed something he loved since he doesn’t love anything, which was so over the top and drawn out and made Gamora sound like an idiot! It made me want to throw things at the screen.

I don’t need or want complexity and sympathetic traits given to a villain that has been nothing but a sheer force of evil and destruction thus far. It would have been so much better to just go the Galactus route with Thanos and make him just an unstoppable chaotic neutral force, rather than some deluded mad genius. I’m sorry, but am I supposed to sympathize with a villain literary referred to as the Mad Titan, whose grand master plan hinges on him believing the overpopulation and over-consumption myth so hard that he wants to destroy half the universe to remedy it? This is the better story than him trying to impress Death that Marvel came up with?

Even if overpopulation wasn’t a myth (which it is) what happens when living beings once again reach the status that they have now? He would have to snap his fingers every 10 000 years or so just to keep the status quo. It’s ridiculously stupid and infuriating and the film treats his plan like it actually has some merit and he’s somehow a mad genius who just goes about it the wrong way. I really didn’t need a 10 min scene of him mourning how he had to kill Gamora to get the stone that lets him DESTROY HALF THE UNIVERSE, complete with sad music and a flashback to baby Gamora asking him what kind of price he paid for his own insane plans. We could have spent that time giving Cap something to do, like maybe acknowledging that Tony, his best friend is lost in space and the world is ending.

The Russos love Thanos, he’s clearly their baby but I hated him. He took time away from the heroes that I wanted to watch and didn’t bring anything to the table but melodrama that was completely unfounded. It was also additionally frustrating because he a) is so much more powerful than any of the heroes combined and b) we know he gets all the infinity stones by the end of the film. So the question isn’t how the heroes will win, but how long will they last against him. The ending also undercuts itself, because the heroes don’t win; the glove self-destructs after Thanos uses it, meaning it would have done that regardless of if Thanos met any resistance while acquiring the stones, meaning this whole 2 and a half hour film was pointless!

The other part of the ending was shocking, but it’s not meaningful, because we know all those characters aren’t dead. We know we will get a Dr Strange 2, Black Panther 2 and Guardians 3, and we know Avengers Infinity part 2 comes out next summer so we know they are still somehow alive. My guess is they are all trapped inside the soul stone, since only the glove got destroyed at the end. Sidenote, aren’t Tony and Nebula still on Titan? So can’t they just like… sneak behind Thanos and stab him now that he’s wounded and can’t use the stones anymore?

This was a frustrating movie to watch and even more frustrating to talk about. There were things I liked, like some of the characters and humor, but for the most part I thought it was overblown, melodramatic and focused too much on the one character I cared least about. I am curious about part 2, but honestly? I feel the same about this movie as I do about event comics; who TF is Thanos and can he get out of my Guardians ongoing so I can return to reading about the characters I actually like and care about.

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My exploration of the science of cybernetics convinced me that the so-called "subconscious mind" is not a mind ~t all, but a goal-striv- ing servo-mechanism consisting of the brain and nervous system, which is used and directed by the mind. The most usable concept is that man does not have two minds, but rather a mind (or consciousness), which operates an automatic, goal-striving machine. This automatic, goal- striving machine functions in much the same way as electronic servo- mechanisms function, but it is much more marvelous, much more complex, than any electronic brain, computer, or guided missile ever conceived by man. Pg15

PRESCRIPTION Begin collecting scrapbooks on persons, past or present, who exhibit both the qualities of character and personality and the life achievements to which you aspire. Select a different representative for each characteristic, each aspiration. Become the reigning expert in these peoples' lives by collecting and reading their biographies, autobiographies, articles about them, speeches made by them, others' analyses of them that can be found in books like Dr. Lundrum's, Napoleon Hill's, and others. Discover the almost uni- versal absence of predisposition (from genetics and often from their early environment and upbringing) for the personality they developed and the accomplishments of their lives. Ferret out the forces, thoughts, and influ- ences that actually shaped them. By making this your hobby, you will feed your imagination with valuable raw material that it can utilize to build the stronger, more goal-oriented self-image you require to achieve your life aspirations. Pg23 [Э·̈ꞇ͛· Жıꞇꞇ⸷ Ꞇılꝺ· Ꞅƿıııꞇoıı⸷ Ɑ̤ɒ̇̈ Ж͛ɑn⸷ Ᵹɹ̈·ċ Ꝿoṅꭇ⸷ Ꝿɩ̇·ıı Cocꞇ̣̇·

MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISE Pick someone to thoroughly study for a month, to get so intimately famil- . iar with the way he or she thinks that you can sit down and have a conver- sation with the person and solicit advice and coaching in your imagination. Pg24

You, As Creator of Your Own life Experiences (1) Consciqus Mind Decision + (2) Imagination Communicates Goal/Target to (3) Self-Image = (4) "Work Order"lnstructions to Servo-Mechanism pg27

Of course, many people waste much of their imagination power, frittering it away on aimless daydreaming and fantasy, with no real appreciation for what it might do if applied purposefully. The sun's light, diffused, is gentle warmth; directed ' through a magnifying glass in a certain way, it is incendiary. pg28

Many writers and speakers, for example, tell me of giving their subconscious instructions about their need for a good anecdote, story, joke, or forgotten details of a story for a writing task or speech, then taking a nap, to awake with exactly the material they wanted "on their minds." pg33

You can give problem-solving or idea-getting tasks to your servo-mechanism, send it off on a search while you do other things, even while you sleep, and have it return with useful material you didn't know you knew and might never have obtained through conscious thought or worry. This becomes a common experience and great benefit for those of us who regularly rely on Psycho-Cybernetics. It occurs because the servo-mechanism has access to a much more expansive storehouse of information than the conscious mind. The famous composer Schubert is 'said to have told a friend that his own creative process consisted in "remembering a melody" that neither he nor anyone else had ever thought of before. Many creative artists, as well as psychologists who have made a study of the creative process, have been impressed by the similarity between creative inspi ration, sudden revelation, or intuition, and ordinary human memory. pg36

My own analysis of everything I've read about Albert Einstein is that he was a great practitioner of Psycho-Cybernetics. He acted as if a theoretical idea was a factual conclusion, then turned the "figuring out" over to his own servo-mechanism as well as to other "worker bees." I am convinced he connected with intelligence outside the realm of his own . stored data through his imagination. He was a brilliant target setter. His accomplishments stand as testament to an individual's opportunity to rise above and beyond his or her stored knowledge, education, experience or skill through the power of imagination. You can too. pg37

So What Exactly Is Psycho-Cybernetics? You might think of Psycho-Cybernetics as a collection of insights, principles, and practical methods that enable you to do all of the following: 1. Conduct an accurate inventory and analysis of the contents of your self-image. 2. Identify erroneous and restrictive programming imbedded in your self-image and systematically alter it to better suit your purposes. 3. Use your imagination to reprogram and manage your self-image. 4. Use your imagination in concert with your self-image to effectively communicate with your servo-mechanism, so that it acts as an Automatic Success Mechanism, moving you steadily toward your goals, including getting back on course when confronted with obstacles. 5. Effectively use your servo-mechanism as something like a giant search engine, to provide precisely the idea, information, or solution you need for any particular purpose-even reaching beyond your own stored data to obtain it. In a way, Psycho-Cybernetics is a communication system, for effectively communicating with yourself. pg39

PRESCRIPTION Read this chapter through at least three times per week for the first 21 days. Study it and digest it. Look for examples, in your experiences and in the experiences of your friends, that illustrate the creative mechanism in action. Think about limiting ideas about yourself that may be held firmly in the self-image, that may be the "cause" of "effects" you no longer desire. pg40

MENTAL·TRAINING EXERCISE Memorize the following basic principles by which your Success Mechanism operates. You do not need to be a computer genius or a neurophysicist to operate your own servo-mechanism, anymore than you 'have to be able to engineer an automobile in order to drive one or become an electrical engineer in order to turn on the light in your room. You do need to be familiar with the following, however, because, having memorized them, they will throw "new light" on what is to follow: 1. = AIM Your built-in success mechanism must have a goal or "target." This goal, or target, must be conceived of as "already in existence now," either in actual or pote!ltial form. It operates either (1) by steering you to a goal already in existence or (2) by "discovering" something already in existence. 2. = TRUST The automatic mechanism is tele-Iogical; that is, it operates on, or must be oriented to, "end results," goals. Do not be discouraged because the means may not be apparent. It is the function of the automatic mechanism to supply the means when you supply the goal. Think in terms of the end result, and the means will often take care of themselves. 3. = RELAX Do not be afraid of making mistakes or of temporary failures. Ail servo-mechanisms achieve a goal by negative feedback, or by going forward, making mistakes, and immediately correcting course. Automatic course correction is one of the many benefits of PsychoCybernetics. 4. = LEARN Skill learning of any kind is accomplished by trial and error, mentally correcting your aim after an error, until you achieve a "successful" motion, movement, or performance. After that, further learning and continued success are -accomplished by forgetting the past errors, and remembering the successful response, so that it can be "imitated." 5. = DO You must learn to trust your creative mechanism to do its work and not "jam it" by becoming too concerned or too anxious as to whether it will work or not, or by attempting to force it by too much conscious effort. You must let it work, rather than make it work. This trust is necessary because your creative mechanism operates below the level of consciousness, and you cannot "know" what is going on beneath the surface. Moreover, its nature is to operate spontaneously according to th,e present need. Therefore, you have no guarantees in 42 Chapter Twa advance. It comes into operation as you act and as you place a demand on it by your actions. You must not wait to act until you have proof. You must act as if it is there, and it will come through. "Do the thing and you will have the power," said Emerson. With all this in mind, select a "target"-whether that is a thinner, healthier you; a more confident, persuasive you; a you free of constant worry; a sales professional free of procrastination who begins each day with an organized to-do list and ends each day with it completed; or a golfer who hits perfectly . straight drives. Devote just ten or fifteen minutes every day to taking that mental picture from a vague idea to a good sketch to a finely detailed, fully fleshed out and colored vision that occurs to you exactly the same way whenever called upon. If it helps to write out descriptions, or to draw illus- . trations on paper, or to collect relevant pictures from magazines, do so. Just stick to ten- or fifteen-minute sessions, when you close your eyes to the outer world and open them only to this picture's continuing development. Try this little experiment for 21 days, and see what happens. pg41

Your nervous system cannot tell the difference between an imagined experience and a "real" one. Your nervous system reacts appropriately to what you think or imagine to be true. This phenomenon that can be produced as a practical joke or by a hypnotist on stage for entertainment is actually identical to, or illustrative of, the basic process that governs much of our behavior, and that can be taken ahold of and deliberately used to advantage. pg46

Dear Dr. Maltz, ... since I had the luxury of several weeks to prepare for our first meet ing that would take place behind closed doors, I immersed myself in prepara tion by studying everything I could obtain about this man. I read a book he had written, books and articles about him, watched video tapes of interviews with him from TV networks and programs, analyzed his biography, and ultimately produced a walking, talking replica of him in my imagination, so that I could carry on conversations with him. I did not have means to have someone else ably act as this person in actual role-play, as politicians do when preparing for debates, so instead I created an imaginary clone. Frankly I chose not to let any of my associates know exactly what I was doing, for fear of having the men in white coats called! My client might have had second thoughts about entrusting this high-wire negotiation to a someone who had an "imaginary man" he was talking with for hours each day. instru~tions Anyway, I followed the I found in your book, Psycho Cybernetics, as inspiration for my approach. After constructing this imaginary person, I then spent hours in what you call "The Theater of the Mind" actually playing out the meeting and dialogue we would have, myself the scriptwriter, director, lead actor and observer, which I found difficult at first, but less diffi cult as I stayed with it. Soon I found my imagined clone actively raising issues, questions and arguments on his own. Once I recall sitting in my easy chair, eyes closed, immersed in this imaginary meeting, catching myself losing my temper and pounding my fist on the arm of the chair! As this evolved into a 'mental movie' with a successful outcome, I transi tioned into re-playing that identical movie repeatedly. I even went so far, after many viewings, to write it out word for word, as if a courtroom transcriptionist was there to accurately record our conversation word for word. Here is what is remarkable: when the actual meeting took place, not only did it follow my script in order and flow, and not only did I voice things exactly as I had many times in the mental movie as you might expect, but he also per formed as if working from the very same script! pg56

Use Mental Pictures to Get a Better Job The late William Moulton Marston, well-known psychologist, recommended what he called "rehearsal practice" to men and women . who came to him for help in job advancement. If you have an important interview coming up, such as making an application for a job, his advice was: plan for the interview in advance. Go over in your mind all the various questions that are likely to be asked. Think about the answers you are going to give. Then rehearse the interview in your mind. Even if none of the questions you have rehearsed come up, the rehearsal practice will still work wonders. It gives you confidence. And even though real life has no set lines to be recited like a stage play, rehearsal practice will help you to ad lib and react spontaneously to whatever situation you find yourself in, because you have practiced reacting spontaneously. Pg57

The Final Word on Imagination Practice It doesn't matter what religious, spiritual, or philosophical background or viewpoint you come from. It doesn't matter how you describe it: imagination practice, visualization, mental picturing, or using my ter minology, Theater of your Mind. "What's important is that you do it! If you will choose a target to apply this to, and give it a solid, honest 21-day trial, you will be so gratified with the results that you will cer tainly choose to continue using this tool for the rest of your life, and benefit enormously by doing so, just as countless athletes, entertain ers, doctors, lawyers, business leaders, and· others have before you. Here are a few exercises to get you started: MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISE Your present self-image was built on your own imagination pictures of yourself in the past, which grew out of interpretations and evaluations you placed on experience. Now you are to use the same method to build an adequate self-image that you previously used build an inadequate one. Set aside a period of 30 minutes each day where you can be alone and undisturbed. Relax and make yourself as comfortable as possible. Now close your eyes and exercise your imagination. Many people find they get better results if they imagine themselves sitting before a large motion picture screen and imagine that they are seeing a motion picture of themselves. The important thing is to make these pictures as vivid and as detailed as possible. You want your mental pictures to approximate actual experience as much as possible. The way to do this is to pay attention to small details, sights, sounds, objects, in your imagined environment. Details of the imagined environment are all-important in this exercise because, for all practical purposes, you are creating a practice experience. And if the imagination is vivid enough and detailed enough, your imagination practice is equivalent to an actual experience, insofar as your nervous system is concerned. The next important thing to remember is that during these 30 minutes you see yourself acting and reacting appropriately, successfully, ideally. It doesn't matter how you acted yesterday. You do not need to try to have faith you will act in the ideal way tomorrow. Your nervous system will take care of that in time-if you continue to practice. See yourself acting, feeling, being as you want to be. Do not say to yourself, "I am going to act this way tomorrow." Just say to yourself, "I am going to imagine myself acting this way now-for 30 minutes today." Imagine how you would feel if you were already the sort of personality you want to be. If you have been shy and timid, see yourself moving among people with ease and poise and feeling good because of it. If you have been fearful and anxious in certain situations, see yourself acting calmly and deliberately, acting with confidence and courage', and feeling expansive and confident because you are. This exercise builds new "memories" or stored data into your midbrain and central nervous system. It builds a new image of self. After practicing it for a time, you will be surprised to find yourself "acting differently," more or less automatically and spontaneously, without trying. This is as it should be. You do not need to take thought, or try, or make an effort now in order to feel ineffective and act inadequately. Your present inadequate feeling and doing are automatic and spontaneous, because of the memories, real and imagined you have built into your automatic mechanism. You will find it will work just as automatically upon positive thoughts and experiences as upon negative ones. Step One: Take pad and pen and write out a outline or description of the mental movie you intend to construct, experiement with, develop, and view in the Theater in the Mind. Step Two: Set aside 30 minutes a day, preferably at the same time each day, to find a quiet, private place, relax, close your eyes, enter your Theater, and begin playing, editing, replaying your movie. Step Three: Gradually "massage" your movie so that its ''star'' (you) performs exactly as you desire, and achieves the experience and results you desire. Strive to arrive at this point within the first 10 days. Step Four: For the remaining 11 days, play and enjoy that movie repeatedly without change. Pg66

MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISE (To be practiced for at least 30 minutes daily) Seat yourself comfortably in an easy chair or lie down on your back. Consciously "let go" the various muscle groups as much as possible without making too much of an effort of it. Just consciously pay attention to the various parts of your body and let go a little. You will find that you can always voluntarily relax to a certain degree. You can stop frowning and let your forehead relax. You can ease up a little on the tension in your jaws. You can let your hands, your arms, your shoulders, your legs become a little more relaxed than they are, Spend about five minutes on this and then stop paying any attention to your muscles. This is as far as you are going to try to go by conscious control. From here on you will relax more and more by using your creative mechanism to automatically bring about a relaxed condition. In short, you are going to use "goal pictures," held in your imagination and let your automatic mechanism realize those goals for you. Mental Picture 1 In your mind's eye see yourself lying stretched out upon the bed. Form a picture of your legs as they would look if made of concrete. See yourself lying there with two very heavy concrete legs. See these very heavy concrete legs sinking far down into the mattress from their sheer weight. Now picture your arms and hands as made of concrete. They alsp are very heavy and are sinking down into the bed and exerting tremendous pressure against the bed. In your mind's eye see a friend come into the room and attempt to lift your heavy concrete legs. He takes hold of your feet and attempts to lift them. But they are too heavy for him. He cannot do it. Repeat this process with your arms, neck, etc. How to Dehypnotize Yourself from False Beliefs 81 Mental Picture 2 Your body is a big marionette doll. Your hands are tied loosely to your wrists by strings. Your forearm is connected loosely by a string to your upper arm. Your upper arm is connected very loosely by a string to your shoulder. Your feet, calves, thighs are also connected together with a single string. Your neck consists of one very limp string. The strings that control your jaw and hold your lips together have slackened and stretched to such an extent that your chin has dropped down loosely against your chest. All the various strings connecting the various parts of your body are loose and limp, and your body is just sprawled loosely across the bed. Mental Picture 3 Many people will find this the most relaxing of all. Just go back in memory to some relaxing and pleasant scene from your past. There is always some time in every one's life when he felt relaxed, at ease, and at peace with the world. Pick out your own relaxing picture from your past and call up detailed memory images. Yours may be a peaceful scene at a mountain lake where you went fishing. If so, pay particular attention to the little incidental things in the environment. Remember the quiet ripples on the water. What sounds were present? Did you hear the quiet rustling of the leaves? Maybe you remember sitting perfectly relaxed and somewhat drowsy before an open fireplace long ago. Did the logs crackle and spark? What other sights and sounds were present? Maybe you choose to remember relaxing in the sun on a beach. How did the sand feel against your body? Could you feel the warm relaxing sun, touching your body, almost as a physical thing? Was there a breeze blowing? Were there gulls on the beach? The more of these incidental details you can remember and picture to yourself, the more successful you will be. Daily practice will bring these mental pictures or memories clearer and clearer. The effect of learning will also be cumulative. Practice will strengthen the tie-in between mental image and physical sensation. You will become more and more proficient in relaxation, and this in itself will be "remembered" in future practice sessions. pg81

Then ask yourself these four questions: 1. Is there any rational reason for such a belief? 2. Could it be that I am mistaken in this belief? 3. Would I come to the same conclusion about some other person in a similar situation? 4. Why should I continue to act and feel as if this were true if there is no good reason to believe it? Don't just pass these questions by casually. Wrestle with them. Think on them. Get emotional about them. Can you see that you hard have cheated yourself and sold yourself short, not because of a "fact," but only because of an irrational and erroneous belief? If so, to try arouse some indignation or even anger. Indignation and anger can sometimes act as liberators from false ideas. Alfred Adler "got mad" at himself and at his teacher, and was enabled to throw off a negative definition of himself. This experience is not uncommon. Pg92

MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISES: 1. Have a heart-to-heart talk with yourself and honestly assess whether you have any problems you're no longer attempting to resolve only because you have accepted as "fact" that they cannot be solved, whether you are living out circumstances in your life that are unfulfilling or even demeaning to you because you have accepted as fact that you cannot alter them. Reconsider! Apply current rational thought to challenge these beliefs and then use your imagination to "shop around" and try out new and different possibilities. Consider the questions I suggested in this chapter about each of these "facts" you uncover in your heart-to-heart: "Why do I believe that I can't?" Then ask yourself, "Is this belief based on an actual fact or on an assump tion or false conclusion?"· "Is there any rational reason for such a belief?" "Could it be that I am mistaken in this belief?" "Would I come to the same conclusion about some other person in a simi lar situation?" "Why should I continue to act and feel as if this were true if there is no good reason to believe it?" 2. Out of all this rational thought, you may identify a new target (goal) to assign to your Automatic Success Mechanism. If so, review the exercises provided at the end of each of the prior chapters as means of getting started. Chapter Five Summary Checklist of The Uses of Rational Thought 1. It is the job of rational, conscious thought to examine and analyze incoming messages, to accept those that are true and reject those that are untrue. 2. It is the job of the conscious rational mind to form logical and correct conclusions. 3. It is the job of conscious rational thought to decide what you want, select the goals you wish to achieve, and concentrate on these rather than on what you do not want. 4. It is the job of your conscious mind to pay strict attention to the task at hand, to what you are doing and what is going on around you, so that these incoming sensory mes sages can keep your automatic mechanism currently advised of the environment and allow it to respond spontaneously pg99

He has made a point of mastering the application of Psycho-Cybernetics for this purpose, so that he can go to sleep at night, then awake and instantly sit at his computer keyboard and "pour out" the writing work that has been done "for him" as he slept. While others tell of writing being enormously stressful and difficult, for him is virtually free of stress. ~t Dan Kennedy says he was first inspired to attempt this by my writing about Bertrand Russell's experience in the original edition of this book. Bertrand Russell said: I have found, for example, that, if I have to write upon some rather diffi cult topic, the best plan is to think about it with very great intensity-the greatest intensity of which I am capable---':for a few hours or days, and at the end of that time give orders, so to speak, that the work is proceed to underground. After some months I return consciously the topic and to find that the work has been done. Before I had discovered this technique, I used to spend the intervening months worrying because I was making no progress; I arrived at the solution none the sooner for this worry, and the 'intervening months were wasted, whereas now I can devote them to other pursuits." (Bertrand Russell, The Conquest of Happiness) pg104

Five Prescriptions for Freeing Your Creative Machinery 1. Once a decision is made, focus on supporting it, not second guessing it. In the original book, I told of the business executive with a pen chant for gambling on roulette, who gave me the idea: "Do your wor rying before you place your bet, not after the wheel starts turning. " I happened to quote to him the advice of William James, men tioned earlier, to the effect that emotions of anxiety have their place in planning and deciding on a course of action, but that, "When once a decision is reached and execution is the order of the day, dismiss absolutely all responsibility and care about the outcome. Unclamp, in a word, your intellectual and practical machinery, and let it run free." Several weeks later he burst into my office to report, "It hit me all of a sudden," he said, "during a visit to Las Vegas. I've been trying it and it works." "What hit you and what works?" I asked. That advice of William James. It didn't make too much of an impression when you told me, but while I was playing roulette it came back to me. I noticed any number of people who appeared not worry at all before to placing their bets. Apparently odds meant nothing to them. But once the wheel started turning, they froze up, and began to worry whether their number would come up or not. How silly, I thought. If they want to worry or be concerned or figure odds, the time to do that is before the decision is made to place a bet. There is something you can do about it then, by thinking about it. You can figure out the best odds possible, or decide not to take the risk at all. But after the bets are placed and the wheel starts turning, you might as well relax and enjoy it. Thinking about it is not going to do one bit of good, andis wasted energy. Then I got to thinking that I myself had been doing exactly the same thing in my business and in my personal life. I Qften made decisions or embarked on courses of action, without adequate preparation, without considering all the risks involved and the best possible alternative. But after I had set the wheels in motion, so to speak, I continually worried over how it would come out, whether I had done the right thing. I made a decision right then that in the future I would do all my worrying, all my conscious thinking, before a decision was made, and that after making a decision, and setting the wheels in motion, I would "dismiss absolutely all care or responsibility about the outcome." Believe it or not, it works. I not only feel better, sleep better, and work better, but my business is run ning much smoother. I also discovered that the same principle works in a hundred different lit tle personal ways. For example, I used to worry and fume about having to go to the dentist and other unpleasant tasks. Then I said to myself, "This is silly. You know the unpleasantness involved before you make the deci sion go. If the unpleasantness is all that important to cause so much to concern, and not worth the worry involved, you can simply decide not to go. But, if the decision is that the trip is worth a little unpleasantness, and a definite decision is made to go-then forget about it. Consider the risk before the wheel starts turning." I used to worry the night before I had to make a speech at a board meeting. Then I said to myself, "I'm either going to make the speech or I'm not. If the decision is to make it, then there's no need in considering not making it-or trying to mentally run away from it." I have discovered that much nervousness and anxiety is caused by mentally trying to escape or run away from something that you have decided to go through with physically. If the decision is made to go through with it-not to run away physically-why mentally keep consid ering or hoping for escape. I used to detest social gatherings and go along only to please my wife, or for business reasons. I went, but mentally I resisted it, and was usually pretty grumpy and uncommunicative. Then I decided that if the decision was to go along physically, I might as well go along mentally-and dismiss all thoughts of resistance. Last night I not ' only went to what I would formerly have called a stupid social gathering, but I was surprised to find myself thoroughly enjoying it. One of the many conversations I had with business leaders after the publication of Psycho-Cybernetics focused on this story. I was con ducting a seminar for the giant insurance corporation, Metropolitan How to Relax and Let Your Automatic Success Mechanism Work for You Life, and on a break, one of the top executives mentioned the story of the man who worried too much after his decisions to me, and he said something I believe to be profoundly liberating: "Dr. Maltz, the truth is that there are few inherently right deci sions or wrong decisions. Inst6ad, we make decisions, then make them right. That's what leadership is all about." The chairman of the world's largest ad agency, McCann Erickson, Nina DiSesa, was named by Fortune Magazine (in 2000) as one of the 50 most powerful women in American business. "You can always correct a poor decision, but if you do nothing, you can never get the time back," she says. PRESCRIPTION Strive for greater decisiveness and finality in small matters, to build the evi dence shown to your self-image that you are the kind of person who makes If a firm decision, then ceases to worry over it. in a restaurant with friends, do not be the person who agonizes over choices, even changes his mind after If ordering. Pick something and close the menu. shopping, pick and buy. MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISE Consider creating a useful little mental picture or mental movie to use, immediately after reaching a decision, whether an important business or personal decision, choosing the golf club to use, or picking a tie to wear with your tan sports jacket. In the 2000 Presidential elections, in a differ ent context, Vice-President AI Gore became so famous for overusing the word "lock box" that television comedy programs and imitators had weeks of fun with it. "Lock box" is a good visualization for this: As soon as you make a decision, see yourself taking all the information, concerns, and pros and cons you sifted through to make it in a big pile into a storage room, putting it alUnto a large box or container of some kind and locking it shut. Then see yourself taking a sheet of paper on which the decision is written, sealing it in an envelope, marking "Done" with today's date and time, then putting the envelope in the "Done" file cabinet drawer and locking it away as well. Finally, see yourself brushing your hands off like a man does after doing some kind of satisfying manual labor, turning out the light in the storage room, and walking out of the dark room into sunlight, like the ship sailing from dark into light in the painting given to me by Salvador Dali. After viewing this movie a few times, for the sake of speed, you can cut it up into stills or slides and view them quickly-click, click, click, click. 2. The secret of focusing only on the here and now. There is a need to consciously consider goals, evaluate progress; and construct plans, but such thinking needs to occur at appropriate times and places, set just for such purposes, The rest of the time, con sciously practice the habit of "taking no anxious thought for tomor row" by giving all your attention to the present moment. Your creative mechanism cannot function or work tomorrow-or even a minute from now. Only right now. It can only function in the present-today, the present moment. Make plans for tomorrow. But don't try to live in tomorrow or in the past. Creative living means responding and reacting to environment spontaneously. Your creative mechanism can respond appropriately and successfully to present environment only if you have your full attention upon present environment and give it information concerning what is happening now. Plan all you want to for the future. Prepare for it. But don't worry about how you will react tomorrow or even five minutes from now. Your creative mechanism will react appropriately in the now if you pay attention to what is happening now. It will do the same tomorrow. It cannot react successfully to what may happen, only to what is happening. 1 once dined with a president of a large corporation in a very pricey gourmet restaurant, He wolfed his dinner down quickly and still had a plate full of food. When 1 asked him about it he said, "I never taste food. I'm too busy thinking about other, more important things." Well, he might as well get his nutrients from a pill. Someday 1 imagine it may come to that. But there are two troubling things about Mr. Dynamo's approach: First, he is denying himself the great pleasure of a fine dining experience, of sipping the wine, tasting each morsel, relishing how perfectly prepared is the cut of meat, how crisp and fresh the tomato. One can assume he misses out on many other sensual enjoyments of life as well. Second, his preoccupation is a con ceit, not a" genuine display of superior commitment, executive discipline, entrepreneurial zeal, or time efficiency. People cannot function at their best if moving at the fastest possible speed aU the time, with out relief or recovery. It is a safe wager that he rarely is in the moment, fully focused and involved with only one thing or one person, and while that may impress others with his busy-ness, it will not lead to maximum utilization of his wisdom and capability. The following morning, based on my diagnosis, I called my broker and sold the shares of stock I held in the company captained by this fellow. You will have a far more enjoyable life and be a far more effective individual if you learn to mentally s-l-o-w yourself down enough to savor your expenences. MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISE After you have left a place, such as a restaurant or shop, stop and see how much of it you can recall and describe in copious, exacting detail. In order to sharpen your powers of observation for this challenge, you will auto matically slow yourself down and be more "there" (wherever you are). If you have read the accounts of the fictional (yet fact-based) detective Sherlock Holmes, you know that he demonstrated remarkable observatory powers, recalling and analyzing the minutest details. In one of these stories, the author, Arthur Conan Doyle, has the Dr. Watson character say to Holmes: "It seems obvious your faculty of observation and your peculiar facility for deduction are due to your own systematic training." Doyle knew that the ' person he modeled Holmes after, his pathology professor at Edinburgh University, was well-known for his extraordinary powers of observation and had taken great pains to train his mind to capture all the minute detail of a scene, an experience, or a person. 3. Try to do only one thing at a time. Another cause of confusion, as well as the resulting feelings of nervousness, hurry, and anxiety, is the absurd habit of trying to do many things at one time. The student studies and watches TV simul taneously. The businessperson, instead of concentrating on and only trying to "do" the one letter that he is presently dictating, is thinking in the back of his mind of all the things he should accomplish today, or perhaps this week, and unconsciously trying mentally to accomplish them all at once. The habit is particularly insidious because it is seldom recog nized for what it is. When we feel jittery, worried, or anxious in think ing of the great amount of work that lies before us, the jittery feelings are not caused by the work, but by our mental attitude, which is, "I ought to be able to do this all at once." We become nervous because we are trying to do the impossible, and thereby making futility and frustration inevitable. The truth is that we can only do one thing at a time. Realizing this, fully convincing ourselves of this simple and obvious truth, enables us to mentally stop trying to do the things that lie next and to concentrate all our awareness, all our responsiveness, on this one thing we are doing now. When we work with this attitude, we are relaxed, we are free from the feelings of hurry and anxiety, and we are able to concentrate and think at our best . . If you watch much football on television, you have seen receivers drop balls that pass right through their hands, and hear the commen tators explain that "he was running before he caught the ball" or "he must have heard footsteps." In other words, instead of being totally focused on catching and securing the ball, he was worrying about other players converging on him, where he would go once he had the ball, even prematurely moving his body away from the ball. There's a relatively new word for this in the occupational world-"multitasking" -and for most people, most of the time, it is an empty conceit. Be careful whom you emulate, the herd or the leader. Top performers stick with focus rather than multitasking. While many run-of-the-mill sales professionals talk with their clients on their cell . phones while driving through traffic or even walking down a busy, noisy street, you will not catch the top sales pro doing that; you will find that when she has to make such a call, she does so in a place and at a time where she can give it 1 00% of her attention. While many run-of-the-mill executives permit continuous interruptions by phone, intercom, or walk-ins while they are meeting with someone or review ing important information, the most successful executives I know tol erate no such chaos. The Lesson of the Hourglass Dr. James Gordon 9ilkey preached a sermon in 1944 called "Gaining Emotional Poise," which was reprinted in Reader's Digest and became a classic almost overnight. He had found, through many years of counseling, that one of the main causes of breakdown, worry, and all sorts of other personal problems was the bad mental habit of feeling that you should be doing many things now. Looking at the hourglass on his desk, he had an inspiration. Just as only one grain of sand could pass through the hourglass at a time, so could we only do one thing at a time. It is not the job, but the way we insist on thinking of the job that causes the · trouble. Most of us feel hurried and harried, said Dr. Gilkey, because we form a false mental picture of our duties, obligations, and responsibilities. There seem to be a dozen different things pressing in on us at any given moment; a dozen different things to do; a dozen different problems to solve; a dozen different strains to endure. No matter how hurried or harried our . existence may be, said Dr. Gilkey, this mental picture is entirely false. Even on the busiest day the crowded hours come to us one moment at a time; no matter how many problems, tasks, or strains we face, they always come to us in single file, which is . the only way they can come. To get a true mental picture, he suggested visualizing an hourglass, with the many grains of sand dropping one by one. This mental picture will bring emotional poise, just as the false mental picture will bring emotional unrest. Another similar mental device that I have found very helpful to my patients is telling them: Your success mechanism can heIp you do any jo.b, perform any task, solve any problem. Think of yourself as "feeding" jobs and problems to your success mechanism as a scientist "feeds" a prob.lem to an electronic brain. The "hopper" to your success mechanism can handle only one job at a time. Just as an electronic brain cannot give the right answer if three different problems are mixed up and fed in at the same time, neither can your own success mechanism. Ease off on the pressure. Stop trying to cram into the machinery more than one job at a time. PRESCRIPTION Purchase an hourglass and place it where you work most of the time, where it will catch your . eye often. Place a small placard on it or next to it, on which you have written "One Grain at a Time." 4. Sleep on it. If you have been wrestling with a problem all day without making any apparent progress, try dismissing it from your mind and putting off making a decision until you've had a chance to "sleep on it." Remember that your creative mechanism works best when there is not too much interference from your conscious "I." In sleep, the creative mechanism has an ideal opportunity to work independently of conscious interference, if you have previously started the wheels turning. Remember the fairy story about the Shoemaker and the Elves? The shoemaker found that if he cut out the leather, and laid out the patterns before retiring, little elves came and actually put the shoes together for him while he was sleeping. Many creative workers have used a very similar technique. Mrs. Thomas A. Edison has said that each evening her husband would go over in his mind those things which he hoped to accomplish the next day. Sometimes, he would make a list of the jobs he wanted to do and problems he hoped to solve. Edison's well-known "cat-naps" were far more than mere respites . from fatigue. Joseph Rossman, in the Psychology of Invention, says, "\Vhen stumped by something, he would stretch out in his Menlo workshop and, half-dozing, get an idea from his dream mind to help him around the difficulty." Henry Ward Beecher once preached every day for 18 months. His method? He kept a number of ideas "hatching" and each night before retiring would select an "incubating idea" and "stir it up" by thinking intensely about it. The next morning it would have fitted itself together for a sermon. . 5. Relax while you work. MENTAL 'TRAINING EXERCISE In Chapter Four you learned how to induce physical and mental relaxation while resting. Continue with the daily practice in relaxation, and you will become more and-more proficient. In the meantime, you can induce something of that relaxed feeling and the relaxed attitude, while going about your daily activities, if you will form the habit of mentally remembering the nice relaxed feeling that you induced. Stop occasionally during the day-it need only take a moment-and remember in detail the sensations of relax ation. Remember how your arms felt, your legs, back, neck, face. Sometimes forming a mental picture of yourself lying in bed or sitting relaxed and limp in an easy chair helps to recall the relaxed sensations. Mentally repeating to yourself several times, "I feel more and more relaxed" also helps. Practice this remembering faithfully several times each day. You will be surprised at how much it reduces fatigue and how much bettet you are able to handle situations. By relaxing and maintaining a relaxed attitude, you remove those excessive states of concern, tension, and anxiety, which interfere with the efficient operation of your creative mech anism. In time, your relaxed attitude will become a habit, and you will no longer need to consciously practice it. pg109

I then suggested that he memorize a saying of Epictetus, which has always been a favorite of mine: "Men are disturbed," said the sage, "not by the things that happen, but by their opinion of the things that happen." Happiness versus Unhappiness = Facts versus Opinions pg122

The essence of Psycho-Cybernetics is the accurate, calm, and ultimately automatic separation of fact from fiction, fact from opinion, actual circumstance from magnified obstacle, so that our actions and reactions are solidly based on truth, not our own or others' opinions. pg123

PRESCRIPTION Form the habit of reacting aggressively and positively toward threats and problems. Form the habit of keeping goal-oriented all the time, regardless of what happens. Do this by practicing a positive aggressive attitude, both in actual everyday situations and in your imagination. See yourself in your imagination taking positive, intelligent action toward solving a problem or reaching a goal. See yourself reacting to threats not by running away or evading them, but by meeting them, dealing with them, grappling with them in an aggressive and intelligent manner. "Most people are brave only in the dangers to which they accustom themselves, either in imagination or practice," said Bulwer-Lytton, the English novelist. Pg124

The word "habit" originally meant a garment or clothing. We still speak of riding habitS and habil iments. This gives us an insight into the true nature of habit. Our habits are literally garments worn by our perso.italities. They are not accidental or happenstance. We have them because they fit us. They are consistent with our self-image and our entire personality pattern. When we consciously and deliberately develop new and better habits, our self-image tends to outgrow the old habits and grow into the new pattern. pg131

MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISE Habitually, you put on either your right shoe first or your left shoe. Habitually, you tie your shoes by either passing the right-hand lace around the left-hand lace, or vice versa. Tomorrow morning determine which shoe you put on first and how you tie your shoes. Now, consciously decide that for the next thirty days you are going to form a new habit by putting on the other shoe first and tying your laces in a different way. Now, each morning as you decide to put on your shoes in a certain manner, let this simple act serve as a reminder to change other habitual ways of thinking, acting, and feeling throughout that one day. Say; to yourself as you tie your shoes, "I am beginning the day in a new and better way." Then consciously decide that throughout the day: 1. I will be as cheerful as possible. 2. I will act .a little more friendly toward other people. You Can Acquire the Habit of Happiness 133 3. I am going to be a little less critical and a little more tolerant of other people, their faults, failings, and mistakes. I will place the best possible interpretation on their actions. 4. Insofar as possible, I am going to act as if success were inevitable, and I already am the sort of personality I want to be. I will practice acting like and feeling like this new personality. . 5. I will not let my own opinion color facts in a pessimistic or negative way. 6. I will practice smiling at least three times during the day. 7. Regardless of what happens, I will react as calmly and as intelligently as possible. 8. I will ignore completely and close my mind to all those pessimistic and negative "facts" that I can do nothing to change. Simple? Yes. But each of these habitual ways of acting, feeling, and thinking has beneficial and constructive influence on your self-image. Act them out for thirty days. Experience them, and see if worry, guilt, hostility have . not been diminished and if confidence has not been increased. p133

Sense of direction Understanding Courage Charity (compassion) Esteem Self-confidence Self-acceptance pg136

PRESCRIPTION Earlier in this book we covered a number of ways to put your imagination to work, to come up with a new or more clearly defined target or targets for you focus on, and assign your Automatic Success Mechanism. This is a to good time to do so. Get yourself a goal worth working for. Better still, get yourself a Decide what you want out of a situation. Always have project~ something ahead of you t~ look forward to-.:.-to · work for and hope for. Look forward, not backward. Develop a "nostalgia for the future" instead of for the past. The nostalgia for the future can keep you youthful. Even your body doesn't function well when you stop being a goal striver and have nothing to look forward to. This is the reason that very often a person dies shortly after retirement. When you're not goal-striving, not looking for ward, you're not really living. In addition to your purely personal goals, have at least one impersonal goal or cause, which you can identify yourself with. Get interested in some project to help your fellow man, not out of a sense of duty, but because you want to. Pg137

PRESCRIPTION Look for and seek out true information concerning yourself, your problems, other people, or the situation, whether it is good news or bad news. Adopt the motto, "It doesn't matter who's right, but what's right." An automatic guidance system corrects its course from negative feedback data. It acknowledges errors in order to correct them and stay on course. So must you. Admit your mistakes and errors but don't cry over them. Correct them and go forward. In dealing with other people, try to see the situation from their point of view as well as your own. Pg139

PRESCRIPTION Be willing to make a few mistakes, to suffer a little pain to get what you want. Don't sell yourself short. "Most people," said General R. E. Chambers, once Chief of the Army's Psychiatry and Neurology Consultant Division, "don't know how brave they really are. In fact, many potential heroes, both men and women, live out their lives in self-doubt. If they only knew they had these deep resources, it would help give them the self reliance to meet most problems, even a big crisis." You've got the resources. But you never know you've got them until you act-and give them a chance to work for you. Pg141

PRESCRIPTION The prescription for charity is three-fold: (1) Try to develop a genuine appreciation for people by realizing the truth about them; they are children of God, unique personalities, creative beings. (2) Take the trouble to stop ~f and think the other person's feelings, viewpoints, desires, and needs. Think more of what the other fellow wants, and how he m~st feel. A friend of mine kids his wife by telling her, whenever she asks him, "Do you love me?" "Yes, whenever I stop and think about it;" There is a lot of truth in this. We cannot feel anything about other people unless we "stop and think" about them. (3) Act as if other pepple are important and treat them accordingly. Pg143

PREsCRIPTION Stop carrying around a mental picture of yourself as a person less capable than others, by making unfair apples-to-oranges comparisons. Celebrate your victories small or large, recognize and build on your strengths, and continually remind yourself that you are not your mistakes. The word "esteem" literally means to appreciate the worth of. Why do men stand in awe of the stars, the moon, the immensity of the sea, the beauty of a flower or a sunset, and at the same time downgrade themselves? Did not the same Creator make us? Is not the human being the most marvelous cre ation of all? This appreciation of your own worth is not egotism unless you assume that you made yourself and should take some of the credit. Do not downgrade the product merely because you haven't used it correctly. Don't blame the product for your own errors like the schoolboy who childis~ly said, "This typewriter can't spell." But the biggest secret of self-esteem is this: Begin to appreciate other peo ple more; show respect for human being merely because he or she is a any child of God and therefore a thing of value. Stop and think when you're dealing with people. You're dealing with unique, individual creations of the Creator of all. Practice treating other, people as if they had value, and, sur prisingly, your own self-esteem will go up. For real self-esteem is not derived from the great things you've done, the things you own, the mark you've made, but from an appreciation of yourself for what you are-a child of God. When you Come to this realization, however, you must necessarily conclude that all other people are to be appreciated for the same reason. Pg145

PRESCRIPTION Use errors and mistakes as a way to learning; then dismiss them from your mind. Deliberately remember and picture to yourself past successes. Everyone has succeeded sometime at something. Especially when begin ning a new task, call up the feelings you experienced in some past success, however small it might have been. Pg147

PRESCRIPTION Accept yourself as you are and start from there. Learn to emotionally tolerate imperfection yourself. It is necessary to intellectually recognize our shortcomings, but disastrous to hate ourselves because of them. Differentiate between your self and your behavior. You are not ruined or worthless because you made a mistake or got off course, anymore than a computer is worthless because it makes an error, or a violin because it sounds a sour note. Don't hate yourself because you're not perfect. You have lots of company in imperfection: No one else is perfect and those who try to pretend they are become imprisoned in misery. Pg150

MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISES Awareness, acknowledgment, and prompt reaction to a slumbering Automatic Failure Mechanism awakening and attempting to distract you with F·,A·I-L-U-R-E is important. Glance at Negatives, But Focus on Positives Automobiles come equipped with "negative indicators" placed directly in front of the driver, to tell you when the battery is not charging, when the engine is becoming too hot, when the oil pressure is becoming too low, etc. To ignore these negatives might ruin your car. However, there is no need to become unduly upset if a negative signal flashes. You merely stop at a service station or a garage, and take positive action to correct the problem. A negative signal does not mean the car is no good. All cars overheat at times. However, the driver of the automobile does not look at the control panel exclusively and continuously. To do so might be disastrous. She must focus her gaze through the windshield, look where she is going, and keep her pri mary attention on hergoal-where she wants to go. She merely glances at the negative indicators from time to time. When she does, she does not fix on them or dwell on them. She quickly focuses her sight ahead again and con centrates on the positive goal of where she wants to go. How to Use Negative Thinking We should adopt a similar attitude about our own negative symptoms. I am a firm believer in "negative thinking" when used correctly. We need to be aware of negatives so that we can steer clear of them. A golfer needs to know where the bunkers and sand traps are, but he doesn't think continu ously about the he doesn't want to go. His mind glances at bunker~where the bunker, but dwells on the green. Used correctly, this type of negative thinking can work for us to lead us to success, if: 1. We are sensitive to the negative to the extent that it can alert us to danger. 2. We recognize the negative for what it undesirable, some is~something thing we don't want, something that does not bring genuine happiness. 3. We take immediate corrective action and substitute an opposite positive factor from the Success Mechanism. Such practice will in time create a sort of automatic reflex that becomes a part of our inner guidance sys tem. Negative feedback will act as a sort of automatic control, to help us steer clear of failure and guide us to success. Take , a few.minutes toward the conclusion of each day, or midday and at day's end if you can. Find a quiet place, close your eyes, enter your imagi nation so as to revisit the day's events and your behavior. Congratulate yourself on all your Automatic Success Mechanism reflective actions but take note of Automatic Failure Mechanism warning lights quietly flashing on the dashboard! Tell yourself that Automatic Failure Mechanism behav ior is "not you" and is not to be tolerated. If corrections can be made for any that occurred, by all means make them. Be the bigger person by calling or going to see anyone who may deserve your apology, your gratitude, or your congratulations. Analyze your thoughts and actions of the day in terms of contributing toward achieving your goals, even measure your ratio of Automatic Success Mechanism-versus Automatic Failure Mechanism-driven activity; then resolve to improve that ratio. Do not fear self-analysis. Stick with self-coaching, avoid self-loathing. Conclude your private critique of the day by identifying positives you can build on and the recommitment to your goals and ideals. Pg177

MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISES By far, the most challenging and rewarding exercises of all suggested in this book are these involving forgiveness. Choose one or two persons for whom you've long carried resentment over past slights and find a way in your heart to truly, completely forgive them, no strings attached, and ultimately do so via your actions toward them. Also, identify some past error or situation you have been carrying a grudge against yourself for, and forgive yourself, and finally, once and for all, banish this from your thoughts. This may very well require considerable work in your imagination factory. Invest 30 minutes a day for 21 consecutive days on quiet reflection, working on this with yourself, in solitude. Pg201

MENTAL TRAINING EXERCISES 1. Don't wonder in advance what you are going to say. Just open your mouth and say it. Improvise as you go along. Gesus advises us to give no thought as to what we would say if delivered up to councils, but that the spirit would advise us what to say at the time.) 2. Don't plan (take no thought for tomorrow). Don't think before you act. Act and correct your actions as you go along. This advice may seem radical, yet it is actually the way all servo-mechanisms must work A torpedo does not "think out" all its errors in advance, and attempt to correct them in advance. It must act first-start moving toward the goal-then correct any errors that may occur. 3. Stop criticizing yourself. The inhibited person indulges in self-critical analysis continually. After each action, however simple, she says to herself, "I wonder if 1 should have done that." After she has gotten up courage enough to say something, she immediately says to herself, "Maybe I shouldn't have said that. Maybe the other person will take it the wrong way." Stop tearing yourself apart. Useful and beneficial feedback works subconsciously, spontaneously, and automatically. Conscious self-criticism, self-analysis, and introspection is good and useful if undert~ken perhaps once a year. But the continual, moment-bymoment, day-by-day, sort of second-guessing yourself-or playing Monday-morning quarterback to your past actions,-is defeating. Watch for this self-criticism; pull yourself up short and stop it. 4. Make a habit of speaking louder than usual. Inhibited people are notoriously soft-spoken. Raise the volume of your voice .. You don't have to shout at people and use an angry tone; just consciously practice speaking louder than usual. Loud talk in itself is a powerful disinhibitor. Experiments have shown that you can exert up to 15% more strength and lift more weight, if you shout, grunt, or gr~an loudly as you make the lift. The explanation of this is that loud shouting disinhibits and allows you to exert all your strength, including what has been blocked off and tied up by inhibition. 5. Let people know when you like them. The inhibited personality is as afraid of expressing "good" feelings as "bad" ones. If he expresses love, he is afraid it will be judged sentimentality; if he expresses friendship, he is afraid it will be considered fawning or apple polishing. If he I:;ompliments someone, he is afraid the other will think him superficial or suspect an ulterior motive. Totally ignore all these negative feedback signals. Compliment at least three people every day. If you like what people are. doing, or wearing, or saying, let them know it. Be direct. "I like that, Joe." "Mary, that is 'a very pretty hat." "Jim, that proves to me you are a smart person." And jf you're married, just say to your spouse, "I love you" at least twice a day. Pg122

PRESCRIPTION Stop thinking in terms of fear, anxiety or nervousness, and think only in terms of excitement. It is fine to be a bit excited before you step into the spotlight in whatever you do. Pg254

MENTAL ThAINING EXERCISE Creating 20/20 hindsight as foresight is yet another immensely valuable and creative use of your imagination. Stop and recall a few situations from your past that seemed of dire, earth-shaking consequence at the time but have proven inconsequential over time. Then project yourself three, four, or five years into the future, looking back on today's event, and consider how you ' will feel about it and how much impact it will have had on your life. Pg260

MENTAL TRAl:NING EXERCISE Change negative self-talk, the voice of the Automatic Failure Mechanism to a positive affirmation: "I am the kind of person who ... " Repeat the affirmation as a personal mantra until it becomes an automatic response to any sliver of self-doubt that slips through the door! Here are a few examples: I am the kind of person who ... effectively pJans the day ahead, sets goals, and accomplishes them. Listens carefully, then communicates confidently and persuasively. Takes the initiative in solving problems and suggesting ideas. Stays calm under pressure. Prefers fresh 'fruit and other healthy foods to "junk food." Pg279

(ɔꞅ̟c͛o c̟ɒ̇̈ıı̇ꞇıcꭇ)

: Psyċo-Cybeꞅneꞇıcs :: Sɑıꝺ̇ceo-Sꞇıùıꞅıċ :: ɔꞅᴉͼo-cᴉσeꞃνeꞇıcς :: ꞅ·ıꝺ͛ċo-ꞅꞇıɩ̣̀ıɹ̈ıc͛ :: I'm ſuckınᵹ ıncꞅeꝺıble::

Nothing splendid has ever been achieved except by those who dared believe that something inside them was superior to circumstance. -Bruce Barton

"Once ꝺıſſıculꞇ, now eɑsy::"

Wıllpoweꞅ ıs noꞇ ꞇ̇e ɑnsweꞅ:: Selſ-ımɑʞe mɑnɑʞmenꞇ ıs::

Ꝺeep ꝺown I wɑnꞇ *moꞅe* lıſe:: We ɑll ꝺo:: Ꝺeeɔ ꝺoшν ı шɑνꞇ *moꞃe* lıƭe:: We ɑll ꝺo:: Ꝺ̇̇ɔ ꝺoƿıı ı ƿ·ııꞇ *ɩ̤ö̇* lı̷̇ɾ:: Ƿ̇ ·ll ꝺo::

book; Pꞅescoꞇ Leckey, Selſ Consısꞇency, A Ꞇ̇eoꞅy oſ Peꞅsonɑlıꞇy::

The Louisiana Uproar - Chapter 5

Summary: The media causes hysteria regarding “The Black Phantom”.  Donovan’s plan for the New Bordeaux take over is coming together. Dottie negotiates with the new underbosses. Tickfaw Harbor is seized.

*M/F Oral Sex Scene Alert*

“Hey.” Donovan greets me when I enter the motel.

“Morning, my friend.”

“Good job in River Row. Lincoln was impressed.” He says, “Anyway, we just took Pointe Verdun.”  He goes through his drawer. “This should cover any expenses.” “How much is this?” I say feeling the stack. “Two thousand, five hundred.” My eyes get wide, then I try to fix them. “So what’s next?” “Good question.” He looks at me. “Shall I run you through the game plan?” “Yes, please.” “This is exclusive shit.” He says, walking up to his wall. It’s decorated even more with pictures, sticky notes, and writing. “Marcano’s going legit.” Donovan take a puff of his cigarette. “He wants to open a Casino.” “No easy feat: Gambling is illegal.”

“Yeah, and anything is possible in Marcano’s world.” Okay? “He’s working to get gambling legalized. He wants out of the life.” Again, okay? “It’s our job to cut off his options. The ways he makes money, people he has in his pocket, so on and so forth.” “I’m not going to touch anyone.”  “No, no. You won’t, my little finance genius.” He says, “But as you witnessed about Ol’ Lincoln in River Row. He can be quite destructive.”

“No shit?” “No shit.” He chuckles. “It’s gonna take money. I need you for resources, to calculate the decision he’s making.” He unsticks a paper from his board. “These are the resources we have.” I see car delivery, consiglieri, arms dealer. “Whenever Lincoln uses their services, they will contact you for payment.” “I can do that.” “There’s a consiglieri number there. For this project, she reports to you.” “What does she do?” I feel dumb for asking. “Lincoln has three underbosses report to him---including Vito. As they make their money, the provide a cut of the profits, she’ll get it and store it-” “And I’ll need to keep track of it.” “Now we’re talking.” He nods. “That’s the job.”

“Should I quit my job at the dock?”

“I’d say this job will take up a lot of your time.” And I’ll be happier.

“Vito may have side projects for me.” “Take them. If you have the bandwidth.”

“I’m gonna go quit.” The motel’s front door opens. “Where ya’ at, Lincoln?” “Hey.” He nods to both of us. “Ready to go have the conversation?” “Ready when you are.” John looks at me. “Dottie, you’re in with us. Quit later.” I guess, I’m just missing work today

I sat in a fake ice cream truck, next to John Donovan, listening in on Lincoln’s meeting with the underbosses.

“Hey, nice speech and all.” John pulls up to Lincoln. “Think they bought it?” “Don’t care.” Lincoln inhales his smoke. “They’re all too greedy, or too pissed off at Marcano, to back out now.”

“At least until one of them decides to try to crown on for size.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” He pauses. “The photos were good and all, but I need some actionable intel. Place of business.”

“The dossiers are almost complete.” He says. “I’ll be ready to move when you are. I’ve also lined up some concerned citizens, who are more than willing to share some information on Sal’s coalition of wop assholes. Information on how to contact them will be included with the other intel.” “Appreciate it.” “Sure you don’t need a ride?” I speak up. “I do my own driving.” Lincoln nods. “Woooo.” John teases before driving off with me.

I didn’t actually quit at the port. Instead, I’m choosing to never come back---Rick will get the point. The only person that I wanted to give my notice to was Vito.

When I arrived to his office, another woman was in his office.

“Oh, sorry for interrupting!” I turn to head back out of the door. “It’s fine, Dottie.” Vito says. “We’re wrapping up. Have you two met?” “I don’t believe so.” The woman stands. She’s taller than me. Thick accent. “This is Dottie. Another close associate of mine. Dottie, this is Alma.” “Pleasure to meet you, Alma.” Is she sizing me up? She nods and passes me to the door. Vito must have a thing for ethnic women, I chuckle at the thought.

“Bad time?” “No. What’s up, kid?”

“I quit at the port. I’m sure it’s stating the obvious but I’m not coming back.”

“Yeah.”

“I made a lot of money with- for calculating some damages.” The thought hits me. “I don’t have to go back to D.C. I don’t want to.” “Well, we both didn’t want that.” “Yeah.” I pauses. “Are you gonna miss me?” “Of course.” He chuckles. “Don’t be a stranger.” “I won’t.” I lean forward and whisper, “I can’t be. Now that you know the plan.” “I do...know the plan.” He nods having his drink. “How ya feeling about all this?” “I feel better that you’re with us.” I start. “It’s nice having someone that I know.” “Hey. Same here.”

“Vito. Aren’t you worried about still staying here? About all of this.” I start to run on about my fear of getting attack by Marcano’s boys.

“I’ve lost a lot. At least you’ll be where I can see you.” I know he has. “It’ll be alright, Dot. You’re as smart, beautiful as your are. That says something.” he continues. “It’s almost kind of an honor sitting next to ya. You just shine in my eyes. That’s my true feeling.” “Is it the only feeling?” “What?” What if I kissed you right now, Vittorio? What the hell. I’m right, I don’t know if either of us will die tomorrow.  Our eyes stay locked and I move to his side of his desk.

Softly, I plant a kiss on his forehead. No reaction from Vito, so I place a kiss on his lips. He’s still, but I can feel his effort. I pull away and move to get on my knees. I start to undo his belt.  Just once, I look him in the eye to ask him if it’s alright.

“You sure you wanna do that?” He takes my hand.

“Yes.” He lets go and lets me continue.

I knew it was time to go after he finished. It’s a quiet exit, I raise back to my feet and fix my dress. Wiping some matter from the side of my lip, I speak up:

“I’ll see you around, Vito.”

“Yeah. Be careful out there.”

---

With that, the “Blue Gulf” Motel in the Delray Hollow is my new office. It’s a tiny space. I sit in the tac center with John Donovan. He’s an eccentric soul, and he’s teaching me a lot---even if it’s unconventional. This is not a Monday through Friday job, but I’m used to that. John is the person I see more often than anyone else.

When I arrive to the motel, I am alone. “John?” I call out. No response. I turn the radio on and get started. My recent project has been paying back everything from the River Row, Pointe Verdun, and Delray Hollow acquisition. “Morning Sunshine.” “Hey, where have you been?” I ask.

“Hmm, pushy, are you?” He puts a coffee on my desk. “I was gathering some intel.” He walks to his desk and shuffles papers. Lincoln’s thinking about Tickfaw Harbor, next.

“Hmmm. What’s over there?” “....You tell me.” He gestures to the board. “It’s here for a reason.” I freeze before walking to it. I found Tickfaw Harbor’s boss, Frank Pagani, it looks like he reports to Tommy Marcano.

“Smuggling and Auto theft.”

“Right.”

It’s no longer shocking for me to turn on the television to see the destruction in New Bordeaux. Two weeks ago, it was River Row. Now it was Tickfaw. My roommates are damn near fearful to leave the house. “The Black Phantom” is what the media named him. They said he would kill indiscriminately men, women, no matter the race. I guess that was true. My dad still offers to buy me a plane ticket home, until the catch the maniac.

I am in my first week at the Motel, full time. I don’t know how I can leave at this point. Don’t get me wrong. I’m still fearful, but not of Lincoln Clay. I fear the cops, Marcano’s boys. Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only one.

“Betty?” I call out a woman’s name. I’m meeting her at a restaurant in River Row. The heavier set woman turns to me with a warm smile. “I’m Dottie.”

“Pleased to meet your acquaintance.”

“Certainly.” We shake hands and I gesture to where my purse is. “I grabbed a seat.”

“Could I have a scotch on the rocks?” Betty asks the waitress. She turns back to me. “Cigarette?”

“I’d love one.” Shit, I could really use one. We both light and take a breath in. As I breathe out, I try to relax. “So, Vito mentions you as best in the game. I know what you will be doing but what happens once you have it?”

We became like girlfriends during that conversation. I got the information I needed. “So, what are you?” “Oh, I do alittle of this and a little of that.” I think to the moment when I told Vito that I was a book-keeper for the black mob. “Projects.” “I see.” “Vito told me I’d meet you.” She lets out another breath of smoke. “That you’re smart.” Thanks, Vito. “I think he’s right, Cher.” “Well, Vito says you’re the best and I believe that too.” “Oh honey, there are so many more that I can offer.”

---

“Donovan.” I say to break up the silence. “Jetson.” He responds before looking at me. “I think prior to our first sitdown. We should see which crew can offer what.”

“Elaborate.” “Well, we know we have resources.” I shrug. “Supplied from each boss, maybe to things in their favor, they can pay for a service. It can get us a better deal.” “Ah, I thought of something like that. The problem is ---” He pauses. “There is no problem. You will do it.” “Do what?” “It can’t be mandatory. Someone needs to strongly encourage them. You get the information and you give an estimate.” No thanks. “Dottie, if someone wants to try the crown on for size. We don’t need them knowing who I am.” “Should I wear a gun?” “Always, but I doubt you’ll need it---for them.” He says, “You’re the one trying to benefit them.” “Yeah.” I let out a sigh.  He pats his desk.

“Find their address and say hello. Soon.” Donovan flashes me a smile before getting back to work.

“John, if they know me---my name.” I pause. “I could die or go to jail.” Jail is worse.

“Yeah, you could.” He doesn’t even look at me.

I spent the night trying to figure which boss to visit first. I had notes on address and talking points.

Cassandra:

Guns Resource

Publicly uses haitian accent

Thomas Burke:

Car theft resource

Horrible Temper

Asshole

Vito Scaletta:

Old School Mafia

Mob Doctor

Friend

I knew Vito would be easiest, but I was already in the Hollow. Donovan didn’t leave me empty handed. He gave me an angle to speak to them.

I walk into the “Pierced Heart” voodoo shop. There is a woman with an Haitian accent. She’s making a sell. “I’ll be right with you.” She calls out to me. “Take your time.” I’m nervous, I try to browse. Voodoo, huh? Creepy.

“Could I help you with anything?” She finally gets to me. “I’m-on business of Lincoln Clay.” I’m speaking in a low voice, though we’re alone.

“Of who?” “You know what I’m talking about.” I try to make my voice harder. “He didn’t mention that he’s sending someone.” “This is just a quick conversation.” I shake my head. I need to identify myself. “I’m Dorothy. I process incoming and outgoing payments.” “I’ve heard about you. Young.” She observes me. It’s now revealed that she was Baka’s business associate, I wonder if she called the attack on me. “Did you serve in ‘Nam as well?” “No, madam.”

“Tea?” “I’ll be quick. I want to make sure there is a fair game out there.” I lean closer. “I’ve received some offerings from other bosses to try to sway us in their direction.” “And you want to be fair?” She chuckles. I can that she’s being condescending.

“I wouldn’t blame Lincoln in taking these to consider. It’s a competitive market.” She starts making tea. “Do what you want, sister.” “I appreciate that.” “Take some time to think about if you wanna take part.” I nod. “Have someone call me. I’ll be at my desk all Sunday night.”

I make it to the diner in Southdowns about thirty minutes before it’s time. At least it gives me a minute to breathe. My arms were shaking while driving this morning. Now, it’s showtime.

“You made it.” “Of course, I made it.” He takes a seat.  “So, do you wanna talk about work first or wait?” “Well now that I know you have something work related.” “I just-  you had an idea a while back and it’s happening.” I try to seem nonchalant. “The other underbosses have been trying to sweeten the deal to sway Lincoln in their favor.” “Told you.” “I think you should consider it, too.”

“I’m sure Lincoln would love that idea.” “Right. That’s why I think you should take part.”

“Thanks, kid.” You’re welcome? “Here’s my desk number. Call me on Sunday if you have suggestions.” “Sure, kid.” He shrugs. “Gotta tell ya. Both rackets are Italian, but if you think I need some insurance.” A smile forms on my face again. “Trust me.”

After lunch with Vito, I traveled to Burke’s Iron and Metal, to see the owner. “Hold on, lass.” A man says as I get out of my vehicle. “If you car needs to be worked on, it goes up to the garage.”

“I’m actually here to see Burke.” He chuckles at me. “Thomas.”

“On what business?” “Lincoln Clay.” He’s silent and he leaves for a moment. He returns shortly and I follow him inside. I see a man working under a car. “Thomas Burke. I’m Dorothy. I assist Lincoln Clay.” “He didn’t mention anyone being by.”

“I’m-here to have a conversation with you.” I start. “The other bosses have been suggesting things they can add to push Lincoln in their favor.”

“Like what” “Paying for a service, offering upgrades, things like that. I wanted to be fair and let you know.”

“Well, if you wanted to be fair. You wouldn’t accept them.” Asshole. “Can you really blame Lincoln for taking that into consideration?” I see a woman come from around the car. She has red hair. “Nicki Burke.” We shake hands. “Well take into consideration.” I like her and we’re still shaking hands.

“Here’s my number. I’ll be around my desk all day on Sunday.” “Thank you.”

---

“Hey.” John is listening to his wire tap machine. “Where ya at?” “Pagani died during your little field trip.” He turns his face to me. “Maybe they’ll want the land bad enough that they’ll call.” “I hope. I’ll be in here crunching numbers. That, or I have to sit and listen to you.” “Believe it or not, I have work to do, too.”

The first part of the day was uneventful, more accounts payable work. “I’m bored.” “Really? I got some research you can do?” “Can it be on Tony Derazio? I love him.” “Love him? Why do you love him?” “Because I want to be him, someday.” I lean forward. “That...actually makes sense.” “Can you confirm if it’s true that never leaves his office at the Royal Hotel.” “I can.” he rolls his eyes. “It seems he does.” “Sammy used to tell me things about him.” “So...what do you wanna do, Dot?” He asks, “All of this works out and we’re still alive--- you want your own rackets?” “That’s a good question.” My phone rings so I take it. “Dorothy.” “Hi Dorothy.” I hear a southern accent on the other end of the phone. “This is Nicki Burke.” “Great to hear from you.” I give John a thumbs up. “Did you think of it?” “We did. We’re willing to pay for one service, and we have a resource that would allow Lincoln to bribe the cops.

The final two calls came in shortly after that. I wound up spending the night on one of Donovan’s double beds because I was working late. When I woke, I could hear the sound of two men speaking in the Tac center.

“Morning Sunshine.” John greets me. “Hey, are we good to move to a sitdown?” “Tonight.” “Vito is still the best option.” I point to the chalk board. “I took a look at how Vito’s team is making money versus if we took the Racket and gave it to Burke, for example. It’s a loss. Don’t do it.” I say, “But Vito is making the best money with what we have to work with.” Lincoln gives me an inquisitive look and I get silent. John gives me a look to continue. “It’s your decision, of course, but I’d say keep on going what you’ve been doing.” “Thanks.” He leaves. “Hey, I don’t care what you’re up to today. Just make sure you’re here at 5:30.” He follows after Lincoln.

Just came back from my local CB store for my weekly run and this woman with her young son and daughter reprimanded her girl because she wanted to buy comics too. She said, "it's not for you". You backwards-ass fuckers, let little girls read comics, it's 2017 for fuck's sake.

i liked comics ever since i was a kid. my uncle would drive me to the nearest convenience store because my neighborhood didn’t have any comic book places and i’d spend solid minutes searching their lackluster comics section trying to find something that sparked my interest. i wasn’t specifically reading just DC or Marvel comics, i would grab stories about superheroes one day, fairies and witches the next, unending quizzes and riddles the other. i liked the shapes and the colors and the speech bubbles and the fact the letters were always capitalized for some unexplained but cool reason. it’s why i started reading actual books from a very young age, and how i picked up drawing so religiously. i still remember the exact picture that helped me learn how to draw shoes

when i was around 12, i had a friend my age (let’s call her katie), this girl who wasn’t going to the same school i did, but because she was living in my neighborhood, me, her and a bunch of other kids were constantly out every afternoon to play until sundown, so we were close. i had only three hobbies at that age: creating superhero battles with my dolls, readings my comic books and magazines, and playing outside and getting dirty because i was certain i could turn a local soil dumping ground into an actual water park (i got the neighborhood kids, including this guy five years older than me, to actually believe in my project and help). katie, i had noticed, was pretty much interested in the same things i was, but every time i’d bring my comics with me and offer her an issue, she’d shut me down fast. at first i thought she didn’t like reading/prefered to actually play (or help me become a genius, self-made multi-billionaire at the ripe age of 12), and that was okay so i didn’t pressure her, but i quickly found out she was not allowed to read comics

when one of my birthdays creeped around and everyone and their mother got invited (literally, they were all young kids, their mothers had to be there), katie’s mother got a tour of the house including my brother and i’s shared bedroom. i remember her making a backhanded comment about how my brother seemed to read a lot, and when my mother said, “oh no, that bookcase’s actually my daughter’s, she’s driving her uncle broke with all her comics”, that lady just… lost it in the most comically dramatic way. something about how it’s ridiculous for me, a girl, to read comics about angry men fighting each other, about how these activities are for boys and not ladies, and maybe if i had more dolls to play with, i wouldn’t be like this. now, my natural response at my current age is, “chill the fuck out you spoiled nutmeg”, but back then, i remember just getting… surprised, offended, ashamed, sad. scared my mom would listen to her and take away my comics or not allow me to read any new ones ever again. then i looked at katie and realized she had to live with that spoiled nutmeg 24/7. is that why she was downright terrified of my comics?

the whole thing didn’t have a happy ending. Spoiled Nutmeg & Co. left the party after a while, then the years passed, we grew apart, i moved houses at some point, we lost contact, my water park business was completely ruined because the same company that dumped all that soil just took it away like the self-entitled little fuckers they were. two years ago, through some weird and questionable means and circumstances, katie got in contact with me again. through it all and after i mentioned something about batman (imagine? me? sneaking batman into every conversation?), she asked me if i still read as much as i used to. i managed my best impression of, “no, i don’t have an entire blog dedicated to superheroes”, and told her that i’m still into comics. after she explained to me she’s been actively avoiding any kind of comic book material because of her childhood days being filled with every relative repeating that kind of stuff is only meant for boys, i convinced her to try some DC stuff out. and she did. i also gave her some fun facts about the comic world she appreciated. leaque― spoiled nutmeg: 1-0. fuck you, ma’am

this isn’t the first time i’ve seen this sort of gatekeeping caused by hilariously wrong societal views and “rules”, but it’s the one closest to me because i experienced it so actively. i experienced it from my family too when it came to other aspects of that long-winded “some games are meant for boys and not girls” rhetoric that resulted in me trying out things much later in life (ie video games), but they were never assholes about my books. the amount of girls with similar experiences to katie is a much larger number than some of you may realize. it’s insane to think about, but this gatekeeping culture, ranging from family to your local asshole who wants to protect his little boys’ club, exists. it simply exists. this bandwagon of ridiculousness has to stop at some point