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ejaydoeshisbest · 2 months

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How re-reading Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe brought this miserable, lonely 29-year-old back to life.

THIS IS NOT A REVIEW OR REACTION OF ARISTOTLE AND DANTE DISCOVER THE SECRETS OF THE UNIVERSE. It’s more like how the story and characters brought me back to life and how it reignited some of my dreams. This is also like stream-of-consciousness writing, meaning some points will be redundant.

The summary of this long post:

Literature and art make life beautiful. I have lost myself for so long. Now I have found myself again, and healing, through the power of stories. My core identity is resurfacing, settling itself nicely in my chest. It’s like I am beating with a new heart, though my body still remains sickly.

But I will fight for this reignited free-spirited dreamer who lives each day with gratitude, purpose, and love. Dante Quintana taught me that. My north star is twinkling again, shining with the radiance of my purest and noblest dream, which is to live life absorbing and expressing myself through stories.

I realized that cutting that dreaming, idealistic part of me only brought misery. By conforming to the constraints of my reality (poverty, meeting social expectations, and following societal norms) and shifting my mindset to reflect those around me, I became a common lemming with no color in his life.

I don’t want to go down the traditional, practical route anymore. Just like Benjamin Alire Saenz, I just want to write, even when that means compromising with reality, like taking a minimum wage job near where I live just so I can have the time to express myself even when no one hears whatever I have to say. Better that than work a soul-sucking corporate job.

Magic happened back then when I allowed it to manifest in serendipitous ways in my life. When I listened to my instincts and my gut, coupled with discipline and hard work. I was open, and so the world opened up to me. And the world was beautiful. I was true to myself like Dante was, and like how Aristotle learned to become. I had forgotten that.

Now, though, I have to be open to the world and be cautious at the same time. I just have to be careful. Dante got beat up because he didn’t run. I’ve got to make sure that I can be like Aristotle and learn how to defend myself even with my small body.

I’m not sure if I can get back to that raw state of vulnerability where every hour of every day that I am awake was nurturing this wistful perception about the world. I’ve seen enough of it to know that there are vile monsters dwelling in dark places. But I will be honest in the way I live my life. I owe that to myself.

Besides, maybe I can find some good people in my journey of truth. Reading Aristotle and Dante again filled me with hope that I would still meet some bright, wonderful people—people who were touched by the story of these two boys, who are sensitive and are not afraid to live their own truth.

Part I – The Re-Read

Who knew that opening and reading one of my favorite novels again—the one I’ve been wanting to read since early this year—the one that’s been on my study desk for months now, drinking the golden rays of the midday sun, could help me find myself again.

It helped heal me, more than anything I’ve been doing so far. Just like Pixar’s Luca did, created by Enrico Casarosa. Just like Heartstopper did, created by Alice Oseman.

It awakened my dormant spirit. For so long, I let fear and general lethargy, depression and anxiety swallow me whole. I viewed the world as this miserable place to live in. I forgot to dream of possibilities. I forgot to retreat into this childlike perspective that worked for me. I forgot to delight in the simplest things: the icing on a cupcake, the smell of coffee in a cozy coffee shop, the sunset hitting the skyscrapers, the laughter shared between close friends. I forgot myself.

The first time I read the book, I thought it was simply a feel-good, well-written, lyrical young gay romance. It has helped me come to terms with my sexuality and it told me that it was all right to love someone, even if we’re both boys. The writing is warm and lyrical and gentle even through some difficult, emotional scenes.

It filled me with the hope that someday when I was older and more sure of myself, I would experience that kind of love.

And even if I didn’t find this wonderful love shared between two people, then I would still have the wonderful message of this story. Of loving yourself, of discovering yourself and staying true to yourself. Treating yourself gently and treating those around you with grace and compassion, and defending what good you believe in. Of never running away from what you believe is right.

After reading Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe for the second time, I fell back into the age and state and place I was in the first time I read it; a young man who had freshly come to terms with his sexuality, full of hopes about his future. He was excited for the life he was dreaming and planning for.

But reading it again after 8 years felt like I was mourning a part of myself, too. This book hangover is deep and life-altering. The impact was greater, heavier.

When the afterglow from reading the book receded, I was a sickly adult once more; one who had made some major wrong choices in life. And if not the wrong choices, then someone who wasted his good years by being a lazy, anxious, depressed slob, afraid to make any choices at all, whether good or bad. I was a waste of space, back in his old childhood room, wasting his time, wasting whatever remaining youth he still had in him.

It hurt because I was not a young man, and it hurt that I’ve done nothing good and useful in my life. I have not accomplished not one of my major dreams.

Maybe that was why even though I placed it on top of my desk, I was hesitant to open its pages again. Because I subconsciously knew that it would hurt. Though the story still lingered in the deepest chambers of heart, in the recesses of my tarnished spirit, all through these years, it was still faint to not make any considerable impact. It was then just a delightful story. And now that I am reminded of its power, it broke me, and then it repaired my broken heart.

I had forgotten the message and story, and how could I? After it has served me so well and impacted my young adult life. It made me romanticize my life, fall in love with the world, and be conscious of my youth.

Perhaps I thought it silly that I was too invested in a fictional world when the stressors of reality were so hard and demanded my full attention. Maybe that’s why I let the message go, because I thought it didn’t apply in the real world. In my reality.

Perhaps I listened to the people from a corporate setting; those wearing business suits and ties Monday to Saturday, that I kicked all my childlike wonder to the curb.

Or perhaps daring to dream, persistently, was slowly killing me on the inside as I became an overworked and underpaid corporate slave surviving in a developing country like the Philippines, with its corrupt government and ungodly four-hour traffic congestions that eats up most of your life. The added pressure of going through weeks, then months, then years, of putting my dreams and personal goals on hold was so painful that I abandoned them completely. The dreamer in me disappeared, and that was when I became jaded, cynical, anxious, miserable, and depressed.

Now, I am reminded to stay true to myself. To be good, even though the world is cruel. To be strong so I can defend myself, my dreams, and those who I love. To not be ashamed, so long as I do not hurt anyone. To dream big and to live a life full of love.

Part II – Inspired by Young Fictional Characters

I want to go on an adventure like Dante. Or I want to be like him.

I want to pretend that I am young and live in America and have the option and freedom to move to any state I want. I want to feel myself again. I want to restart my life. I want to do things that bring me joy and give joy to people.

Now that I am a lost, directionless fool, I am actively yearning and envious of Dante’s free-spirited nature. I used to be like him way back when I was his age and up to college. Heck, maybe even a few years into my early adulthood.

I am envious of Dante now because he gets to go to the places I want to go, and I am resentful of his artistic spirit and how easily he expresses himself, and mourning how my spirit used to float like his.

I see all these images of me in this alternate life, now that I get to dream. I am visiting New York or Los Angeles or Chicago.

I am in the middle of the art scene, bathed in neon red, orange, and blue lights. I am in my element and I have the energy to explore. Or I am in a literary scene. Or I am in a cozy bookstore/library. I work as a Starbucks barista somewhere nearby. Or maybe I am a creative entrepreneur, making decent income selling prints or self-publishing my work online. I have friends that I’ll keep forever no matter the distance, instead of losing the few remaining friends that I have, because we try our best to understand each other care for each other. This is all what I wanted in life.

Dante makes me feel young and hopeful. He reminds me to let things go and be earnest and joyful and accept all that life has to offer and show up as my real self, even if it hurts.

Maybe this is a passing feeling. Maybe I’m just inspired by all the Western young adult novels that I’ve read. Maybe I’m just riding on the book hangover I’m feeling right now.

I’m not sure if this is a problem. I don’t know if this is silly. That this powerful drive in me was inspired by fictional characters in fictional stories, but I suppose we all take inspiration from somewhere.

I’d rather take inspiration that stirs me to act than be an emotionless lump of despair going through the motions and reliving his miserable existence.

I want the comfort and beauty of fiction to bleed into my everyday boring life because repressing the lessons and impact of fiction is like repressing my creativity and inner playful dreaming child. And that is a promise to myself to never do again.

When I thought about it more, the qualities found in my favorite novels apply in the real world, too. I also know that there are other dreamers just like me out there who are making their own little spaces bright and beautiful. Maybe if I stayed true to myself and follow this new, instinctual path, it would lead me to meeting these wonderful, creative people.

The biggest challenge now is re-learning how to love this slow, sick body and to work with its strengths and limitations to live the kind of life that I want. I’m way past being a young teenager or young adult. I still have to be practical about most things, but not enough to ruin the dreamer in me.

I may be older than I’d like to be when reclaiming my life, but I am still 29. I’m going to give it my all these 8 months until my birthday to pursue all my passion projects even though I’m still unwell.

Part III – Healing the Inner Child

Aitch Alberto, the brilliant director who pushed FOR YEARS to make a movie adaptation of Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, mentioned in an interview that reading the story unlocked something magical and indescribable in her that inspired her to live her true self.

That was what I felt after reading the book, too. It is a testament to its timelessness. The power of stories, in general, is amazing. It had unlocked my core identity; the one I kept chained in the deepest chambers of my heart. And with it came back my highest dreams and ambitions. My purpose in life—the same one I had when I was 18—resurfaced. To tell stories. That was what gave my life meaning. To read and to be touched by stories and to share my own stories to those who want to listen.

And to explore myself by opening myself up to the world and its endless opportunities. To grow by learning with other people and being amazed at what they can do. To collaborate with past and future friends.

I want to carve another path for myself and devote myself to that path for a couple of months and see what happens. If I failed, it wouldn’t matter, because at least I tried, and I was true to myself while doing it, instead of allowing reality to dampen my spirits. At least I tried to really push myself towards a noble pursuit that I believed in when I was still a young boy.

I could do so much more if I wasn’t so hard on myself and thought negatively about myself. I wasted years of my life being miserable, instead of allowing the beauty of fiction to replenish my tired spirit.

This book has inspired to me re-do my life. To get back on track. To fight and not ask for permission and to build the life I want for myself. Focus and determination and grit, like what Aitch said in her many interviews.

I have overcomplicated life for long enough. I want to pursue my many passions again, little by little, because THEY’RE FUN AND JOYFUL AND WORTHWHILE.

Part IV – Staying True and Exploring Myself

We live in an era where we can keep exploring our identities. Our paths can diverge depending on our many interests. We won’t feel stuck being just artists or corporate professionals or any other profession.

We can build ourselves so long as we keep moving forward in meaningful directions. I’ve got to remember to not let go of the things that give my life meaning and joy. If I get lost, I hope that it won’t be too cringe if I imitate the characters in the books I’ve read. It’s not like I have many great real-life inspirations where I’m from.

I might try to explore and express myself in different mediums that inspire me. Aside from great novels, there are other moving artforms, like drawing, painting, vlogging.

Maybe I can explore my abilities and contribute something good to the world while staying true to myself and having fun by experimenting with them all, one by one.

Maybe I could start by writing stories, then after 2 – 3 months of consistently doing that, I can progress to simple sketches and finally learn how to draw!

What’s important is that I’m doing something meaningful in life. I’d like to believe that that’s all there is to it: doing the things you believe you were set in this world to do. I hope that with each artistic or creative venture, I have something good to add to the world. The output isn’t as important as the journey, just like how Dante lives his life.

I just hope that I don’t get into the trap of feeling self-conscious that I am too old to be free-spirited and curious. This cautious voice inside me tells me to not actually regress back into a 16-year-old, of course. I must live in the present and navigate the waters of the new reality I am creating carefully.

But in whatever I set out to do, I must make sure that it is an authentic adventure; that whatever great works of art or literature I encounter, it has to be aligned with the kind of life I’m cultivating. If I am to participate and add my own voice in the mix, I must make sure I have something good to say.

Part V – Sticking to a Plan

In this part, I am heavily inspired by Aristotle. The simple thing he did of working at a diner. I don’t know, something about that is appealing to me, especially as an old, unemployed, lost person.

I liked his independence. Independence and maturity were my best qualities before, back at my prime.

Now that I plan on getting my life back together, getting a job at a nearby donut shop or mall feels like the right step for me. It also offers the freedom for me to have time to work on my hobbies.

Maybe I can start there, since I feel like I was at the age I started reading the novel, anyway. Teens and young adults got their start working a minimum-wage part-time or full-time job, right? It feels like getting a job out of high school, the do-over I need right now. Then after work, I can fully focus on writing. Just writing for now. And stay true to the stories that I want to tell.

Baby steps. That’s the key. Take small, enjoyable steps that make life more meaningful.

The little boy inside me is still there. I don’t want to chase money anymore. I just want to be secure enough so I can try new things.

I’ve been browsing Instagram and Pinterest recently. I think I like the 80s to 90s aesthetic. Maybe I can try posting photos of anything related to that. Maybe I can tell a story through photography. Maybe I can tell a story through painting or drawing. Maybe I can start a book vlog or a journal vlog. I just want to create stories so long as there’s something worthwhile to say.

Again, Dante inspired me to be free and express myself and he reminded me to keep dreaming and act on those dreams. Like he did when he went to Chicago with his parents. Like how I did when I was in college. I romanticized my life and built many useful skills and befriended a lot of people with their own stories to share. I was so confident in my own skin. I kissed girls, I kissed boys. I wrote, I drew, I captured bright moments. Dante made me believe that I can do anything.

Perhaps I also killed my childlike wonder when I mistakenly thought that growing up and being mature means detaching myself all things playful and creative. My priorities of keeping a 9-6, 6 days a week job, made me forget what matters to me the most.

Conclusion

Reading young adult novels like Aristotle and Dante made me remember the good days that I wanted to have. There were other stories that made a deep impact at certain points in my life. There’s “Freak the Mighty”, “Meet the Robinsons”, “Love of Siam”, “The Song of Achilles”, and many others. Last year I had this sort of mourning period after watching “Heartstopper” Season 1 on Netflix. It was a joyful, uplifting show, but I was sad for all the people who did not experience that kind of love.

It's funny how I can remember myself or identify myself with characters from fiction novels than the people I'm with. Sometimes, I think it's because I'm in the Philippines and that people are more individualistic in other places. Like Western countries. They're not afraid to explore themselves and the world around them. Then again, their world has so much to offer.

The trick now is how to keep that free-spirited nature even as an older, impoverished man who wasted most of his opportunities in life and inaction.

I have to find the balance between channeling this constant vulnerable and emotional state I’m in to make good and meaningful work while also facing reality. I have to find the magic in the everyday even if not much of that is happening lately in my small corner of the universe. I have to remember that there is a twinkling north star that is guiding me if I know where to look.

I believe that’s what makes everyone special: that deep feeling that is everyone’s north star. To live life like you were meant to do. To act on meaningful things that give you purpose. To love life through trials.

I want to fill my life with different eras full of passion projects so that I don’t waste any more days. I just need to be brave again. And to just live my life regardless of the limits of my reality. We only have one life to live. I don’t want to waste my life scared and worrying about the same old things. I’d rather experience tolerable pain doing the things that matter most to me and proactively doing it than living in fear.

I have to believe that even though I may not have that vibrant youth anymore, I can do more than just dream now: I can act.

Thank you, Benjamin Alire Saenz, for writing Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe. And for Aitch Alberto, for adapting it into a heartwarming film.

#aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe #benjamin alire sáenz #aitch alberto #family #love #friendship #gay #lgbtqia #strength #reams #hopes #creativity #art #life #staying true #authenticity #writing #painting #goals

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iwri · 1 year

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Everytime I think one of my ships is different from the others I really amuse myself

Like—

Ishimondo

Mondogami

Sakuya (Sakura/Byakuya)

Jaspidot

BisPearl

Vulpanius

TexLaska

It’s really always “Big, intimidating, likely autistic-coded character who’s super strong and their smaller, but still extremely tough partner who’s super good at math and is definitely autistic-coded”

#I just have autism and think they’re neat #Steven universe #welcome to the table #Danganronpa #fallout new vegas #god I’m gonna get reamed for these ships

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tenth-sentence · 1 year

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It was a Thursday morning and, as usual, standing at the door was a technician carrying reams of paper printouts.

"Human Universe" - Professor Brian Cox and Andrew Cohen

#book quote #human universe #brian cox #andrew cohen #nonfiction #thursday #august 18 #70s #1970s #20th century #jerry r ehman #jerry ehman #nasa #seti #technician #reams #paper #printouts

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n-sani-tea · 2 years

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Nightmare king! An example of the nightmares in my AU "Δ Φ"

Info on it here

#king deltarune #deltarune au #deltarune #deltarune alternate universe #deltarune king #spade king #deltarune spade king #spade king deltarune #delta ream #delta 500 #nightmares #nightmare #D ream #dream #Δ Φ

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kajmasterclass · 17 days

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youtube

#Mastering US College Admissions: Expert Strategies with Gail Reams | KAJ Masterclass LIVE Navigating the college admissions process can be d #but Gail Reams #an expert independent counselor #is here to guide you. In this insightful episode #Gail draws from over a decade of experience helping students gain acceptance to top universities like Columbia #UCLA #and Duke. She'll share invaluable tips on crafting outstanding personal essays #building a strong college list #maximizing extracurriculars #and standing out from the crowd. Whether you're an aspiring international student or a parent seeking clarity on financial aid and scholars #Gail's expertise will equip you with the tools to unlock your dream school. ............................. Interested in starting your #contact us at: [email protected] **Book host KAJ for speaking engagements #coaching sessions #and more: https://www.thekajmasterclass.live/book-online**#Youtube

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joncronshawauthor · 21 days

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Discover "Siren's Song" – Free Prequel to the Ravenglass Legends Series!

I am thrilled to announce that my latest story, “Siren’s Song”, a prequel to Ravenglass Legends series, is now available to read for FREE on Ream! In this gripping tale, a haunting melody lures ships to their doom on the treacherous Braun Sea. When Ragnar, the young heir to the chieftain, learns of the mysterious disappearances, he defies his father and sets sail with his loyal friend Kest to…

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#chieftain saga #fantasy adventure series #fantasy book series #free ebook download #free fantasy novel #free fantasy story #free reading on Ream #Jon Cronshaw author #Maritime Fantasy #mythological tales #new book release #new fantasy release #Ravenglass Legends prequel #Ravenglass Universe #sea adventure book #shipwreck mystery #siren myths #Siren&039;s Song #young heir adventure

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alessandroiiidimacedonia · 9 months

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Out next winter: "The Cambridge Companion to Alexander the Great" by Daniel Ogden

Good day everyone, I’m Elena from Italy and thanks to be here on Alessandro III di Macedonia- your source on Alexander the Great and Hellenism! Thursday at this time I’ll be at the MANN in Naples to see Alexander’s exhibition and Saturday will be my birthday. Just to give myself a birthday present yesterday I saw that several books will come out in winter that I will buy as soon as I can because…

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thefreakandthehair · 19 days

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I just wanna see that smile

wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-compliant injury/recovery, hospital setting, getting together, (brief and inferred mutual) pining, first kiss

a/n: happy (belated) birthday to my pal, @firefly-party! kei drew this piece last year and it was one of the first artworks we talked about when we became friends. this series has continued to live in my brain ever since, so I decided to write a little something in the universe!

Eddie woke up on March 26th, 1986 and Steve’s waited patiently for this moment ever since.

Well, patient is a misnomer— he’d waited quietly to anyone not named Robin or Dustin. Robin, because she knows him too well and there’s no point in trying to hide anything from her and Dustin, because he’d apparently grown up overnight and pieced together that Steve sitting at Eddie’s bedside and holding his fucking hand every time he waltzed into the room meant something.

Or maybe it was when Steve gave Eddie all of his rings back, sliding them carefully onto his shaking fingers with a comforting smile.

Or maybe when Eddie sat up unassisted for the first time and Steve nearly hit the ceiling, bracing him in a panic as if all of his stitches and staples would burst with the tiny movement he’d been working toward in physical therapy.

Hell, maybe it was Steve taking over some of Eddie’s care for himself, washing his hair and braiding it because the staff at Hawkins Memorial are doing nothing more than the bare minimum to make sure they don’t get sued, or even more frightening, reamed out by the new duo of Hopper and Wayne again. Either way, his hair was making Steve’s own scalp itchy.

Dustin never tells Steve what it was exactly that tipped him off but whatever it was, it’s enough for Dustin to give Steve the floor when Eddie’s getting ready to discharge back home. And that’s how, exactly two months later to the day from Eddie waking up, Steve enters Eddie’s otherwise empty room armed with a special treat in the form of milkshakes to find Eddie pouring over an unfortunately familiar stack of papers.

“NDA?” Steve asks, nodding at the papers in Eddie’s lap. He’s upright, fully dressed in the black sweatpants Jeff brought by and a cut off Metallica tee shirt, bandages around his stomach and neck.

Eddie mutters as he reads under his breath, eyes flitting across the page.

“How the fuck do they expect any of us common folk to understand a fucking word of this? Hereby? Wherein? Hitherto? What fucking year did I wake up in, man?”

“Yeah, I think the whole point is that you don’t read what you’re signing but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Steve huffs a small laugh through his nose as he steps carefully around Eddie’s crutches. “You may as well just sign it because if you don’t, they’ll forge it anyway. Now finish signing your life rights away so you can have this milkshake with me.”

Eddie perks up, looking away from the mess of papers and smiling up at Steve with a smile so genuine, it punches the air out of his lungs. He keeps looking at him like this, like Steve’s a breath of fresh air, like he's someone Eddie wants to have around.

Steve isn’t sure what to do with that look yet, but he’s sure glad it’s there.

“Celebration milkshakes? Is this a freedom gift?” Eddie signs the NDA quickly and sets the pen down on the bed next to him.

“It sure is. Figured this could make up for all those lame popsicles from the cafeteria.”

The mattress creaks as Steve sits down on the edge, just to the side of the railing, and hands Eddie the strawberry treat. Their fingers graze, Steve’s chilled and Eddie’s warm. His hand is still a little shaky, trembling as he takes hold of the cup, but they’re warm and warm means alive.

Eddie’s hand can tremble for the rest of his goddamn life so long as it’s always warm.

They each take a sip, smooth ice cream slurping up their straws, and after a moment, Eddie sighs.

“Is it weird that I’m actually sort of worried about leaving?”

Steve’s eyebrows knit together, looking down at Eddie’s rings glinting beneath the offensive fluorescent lights above them.

“What are you worried about?”

“Uh, well, I did almost die. And the town still wishes I did. It’s a lot easier to make those dreams a reality outside of these walls, y’know? And I’m uh…” Steve watches as Eddie takes a breath and Steve suddenly misses the early days when Eddie was connected to the heart rate monitor.

“You’re…?” Steve presses, sipping his milkshake again to appear casual.

“I see you all the time here. Guess I just don’t want that to change.”

Steve’s heart skips a beat, clattering in his chest and pounding at his ribs, desperately trying to crack him right open and run to the man who’s claimed it. Eddie watches him with cautious eyes, opens his mouth to say something else but Steve cuts him off before he can take it back.

“Why do you think that’d change? Forest Hills is a lot closer than this shithole, and you won’t be kept under lock and key. And as for the first thing, well, Wayne and Nancy have a lot in common and I have a bat loaded up with nails in the trunk of my car.” Steve rests his free hand on Eddie’s knee. “No one's gonna fuck with you. Don’t worry about that.”

“You sound a little cocky there, Stevie.” Eddie lifts one eyebrow, glancing from Steve’s hand up to his eyes. “Ready to fight for my honor or something?”

“Yep.”

He hadn’t brought the milkshakes intending to use them as props, but he’s glad he has something to do to fill the space as Eddie watches him with questioning eyes. As he slurps through the straw, grating noise still preferable over the awkward silence, Eddie’s pinched expression turns softer, realization dawning between the stark white walls of the hospital and the pink ice cream in both of their hands.

“You’re serious.” Eddie says.

“Took you that long to figure that out?” Steve teases.

“I’ve been a little busy with learning how to breathe and walk again. Y’know, just little things.” Eddie rolls his eyes with that same fond smile, free hand lacing its fingers through Steve’s. “So what you’re saying is that I’ll see you just as much outside of this prison as I have inside of it?”

Steve shrugs. “Probably even more, honestly. There are no visiting hours at Wayne’s, and it’s not like I have a job to rush off to these days. You’re stuck with me, Ed. At least for as long as you want me around.”

Eddie snorts, unceremoniously scoffing in Steve’s face as if in disbelief.

“Don’t make promises like that. What happens when I never want you to leave?”

The air shifts, growing heavier as they find themselves leaning closer, two satellites orbiting one another by nothing but gravitational pull.

Steve’s not sure who actually closes the gap, but he finds himself with his lips pressed against Eddie’s— sweet, chilled, a little chapped but smiling against his. Months of waiting, of hoping that he’d get this opportunity, come to a deafening crescendo and it takes all of his discipline to not push. Instead, they pull apart and Steve smiles, tucking loose hair behind Eddie’s ear.

“That’s easy. I’d just never leave.”

fun fact: kei, I wrote your birthday down in my calendar as the 28th for some reason, a solid ten days late, so know that this was planned from the get-go but was just a tad bit late.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myblurbs

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blkkizzat · 3 months

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Y’all the creative chakras in the universe are aligning hard af because I just came across THIS Choso art by @/ushy_gushyy they posted yesterday on twt and why is this Choso from my Choji fic (minus the open mouth gag 😩) that I also just posted yesterday 😭🥹🫶🏽💖

They ate DOWNNNN heavy.

S(C)REAMING!!!

#this is CRAZY 💕💖#super talented artist omg #everyone go follow them on twt/x #Choso #choso x reader #choso fanart #puppy choso #choso kamo #kizzatrecs #choso smut

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idesofrevolution · 1 month

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The Journey of Dr. Santana Fabrega

There's nothing quite like your bro slobberin' over your sweaty feet while tokin' on a hookah. Let me just tell you- everybody's happy. I'm stoked to be stoned and minty fresh, and he's happy to taste my ripe size 12's. Who isn't the happiest? The folks. Sure, I dropped out of college, sure I started focusing one hundred percent on my art, sure I have a parade of guys out of my little basement lair... but I never got why they had to be such fuckin' buzzkills.

Ever since they joined that church when I was at uni, my parents have been sucked into the Evangelical cult. Not the whole lifting your hands up to Jesus & speaking in tongues sort of church, by the way. Man, they're out there with picket signs at sex clinics, bannin' books at the high school, all that crazy fuckin' Christian Nation bullshit. They're my parents, so I love 'em and whatever. But fuck, those psychos really fucked 'em up. So now, their crusade is "curing" me of my gayness. Didn't really matter that I'm pan, they don't really know the difference. They don't really care about the difference, though. Not straight, not right.

So when they caught me the other day with Sam cleanin' my dick in the basement, it was World War 3. Man, a Nuclear Bomb would have less energy than my mom's hysterical shrieking. It's Florida, so it's nothing the neighbors haven't heard before. But, shit. I thought my eardrums were gonna pop. They stomped off upstairs, bein' all 'we are going to talk about this later, Santiago.' So, I let Sammy finish up, I pulled on some shorts and I went upstairs to face the fire while he snuck out the basement window. Fuck, I wished I were him.

The 'family meeting' went about as well as you'd expect. Threats of burning in hell for all eternity, demands that I find the Lord, etc. Apparently he doesn't like a lot of things about me: my weed, my tattoos, my sexuality, my piercings, my hair for some reason? I don't know man, I just tuned out after a while. What I did catch, though, they were sending me to substance abuse counseling. Couldn't help but laugh, and that sent dad through the fuckin' roof.

"Doctor Fabrega is going to teach you some manners, young man. Make you a Godly man, like you should be." Yada yada yada. He should have known better than to give me the doc's name. After the ass reaming, I made my way back downstairs to the computer. It took five minutes of research to find this Doctor Fabrega. Turns out he's a Christian Therapist, but that wasn't what was most interesting. Down in his specializations, buried beneath substance abuse & cognitive behavioral therapy was a word that caught my eye: licensed Hypnotherapist.

I knew exactly what kind of bullshit they were tryin' to pull on me. But when I was enrolled at U Miami, my major was Psychology. Not only that, but I still happened to have access to the university library. Oops.

I texted Sammy, knowing I was gonna be up all night doing research, and that my dick would need some appropriate attention under the desk. I was gonna show this motherfucker just how sick it really is to be like me.

---

The waiting room was bullshit. Cold white walls, bright wood floors... It looked straight out of an IKEA ad. I'd already been there for like 20 minutes past my appointment time, giving me just enough time to scroll through the last chapter on my phone. I hear the receptionist call out my name, and I head toward the office. Just as bullshit as the waiting room. It's like the guy wants to live in a psych ward- no color anywhere. At least get a blacklight or something.

"Santiago Rivera. Welcome, I'm Dr. Fabrega." The guy was hot as fuck, not gonna lie. Looked like he was straight out of Sao Paulo- even with the fancy suit you can't hide muscle like that. "Please, sit. It's so good to meet you." His voice was so weird. Speaking every word with like, perfect diction. You know those AI voices that talk that way? That's what it was like, as if he were trying so hard to hide an accent underneath.

"Just call me Santi, doc." I plopped down on the leather chair, might have put my feet up on his coffee table (don't recall), and he just looked at me like he was looking in a microscope. No idea what the deal was. He walked over to the couch and sat down with my file and started to drone on.

"Alright, Santi, it says here that your parents are pretty concerned about your behavior lately. You're 23 years old and a college dropout, you take illicit drugs, you have no job, and you're having unnatural thoughts. That's quite the list, bud." He was so fuckin smug, that sort of punchable glibness that only comes from a particular kind of self righteousness. Like Jesus himself came down and kissed them.

"So, first off. I did drop out of college, because I couldn't afford it. Second, I sure the fuck do smoke green because it's a) fun, and b) prescribed to me by my real doctor. Third, I do have a job. I do graphic design and graffiti art and I pay my own bills with it. And last off, yup: I fucked him." He sat there, somehow shocked that I told him how it was right off the bat. I'm not playing his little game, and that made him angry.

"I see. So you have no remorse for any of this? I believe your parents are very right to be concerned about where your life is headed."

"Fascinating, considering I'm moving out at the end of the month and they won't need to deal with my life. So. You married?" He was thrown off by that, just as I'd hoped. Right out of the blue. Knocks them off kilter for a second. An easy question to answer, so they usually do.

"Uh, well, no I'm not married. Is that your concern in all this?" Man, I couldn't help but laugh. He's trying to be sarcastic?

"Where did ya go to school for... whatever this is." This made him close my file, he even put it on the table and crossed his arms.

"I went to Liberty University, top of my class in their Doctor of Psychology program. You, it seems didn't make it that far, so you might not know what 'this' is." Oooh, he's big mad. I thought, let's push it. I did what most of my guys love, but would piss him off, I kicked off the Vans. Made sure I wore my skating shoes that day, the super ripe ones with the same damp socks. When they came off, those puppies let their presence be known.

"Sounds boring. Boring then, boring now. I got accepted into the Art Institute in Savannah, so I'll be headed that way soon. Be legit soon, then you wouldn't have anything to say. How's your sex life?" He thought he was so tough, not flinching at the musk, nor my question. But I knew both hit him right where I wanted. The question to make him mad, the stink to get him hot.

"Santiago, I think we should continue with our session. You can put your shoes back on and we can try some exercises to help you think a bit more clearly." I crossed my ankles, wriggling my toes a bit.

"I think they need some air. Are you gonna try and hypnotize me now? Or is that the last ditch effort when everything else fails?" He leaned back in his seat, the grimace growing stronger. "That stuff is not that hard to master. A couple days really and you got it down."

"Is that so?" He ground his teeth as he spat out his words. "It seems you know all there is to know, then." Time to hit it home.

"You know what, let's put money on it, doc. Hundred bucks says I can put you under." I got him, his eyebrow shifted just enough for me to see.

"This isn't a casino, Santiago. I don't bet money on client's health." I couldn't help but smirk. He left an opening I couldn't pass up.

"Aight, no money then. If I put you under, I get the bragging rights. If I don't, I'll play your stupid games. Win-win for you, nothing to lose but your dignity." Hook, line and sinker; he leaned in, grabbing the remote on the table next to him. He tapped a button, and the shades started to come down.

"Well then, Mr. Rivera. I wish you luck."

The room got dark. Really fuckin' dark. Fabrega hit another button on the remote, and a cool blue washed over the room. Gotta say, tight LED system. I kicked my shoes off the table, and scooted my chair forward. Showtime.

"Alright, Santana, I want you to just take deep breaths." He squirmed at my use of his first name, one last dig before I brain fucked him. He took his deep breaths one at a time, slowly getting deeper and deeper. "As I count down from one to ten, each number will bring you closer and closer to relaxation. Picture a long tunnel, at the end, a bright white light. With every number, you take a step forward to the light, do you understand?"

He nodded, it was an induction I'd made up this morning. I started from 10, telling him his first step he could feel the tingling relaxation in the tips of his fingers, slowly crawling up his hands and forearms. 9. Another step, the tingling creeps up his big muscly arms and shoulders. 8. One more step, the tingling is pushing up his neck and throat, reaching his tongue and teeth. 7. The tingling bursts into his head, a paradoxical rush of relaxation, a fog of dissonance washes over his brain as thoughts collide and crash about. 6. The tingling washes down his spine, flowing through his nerves into every part of his body. His body feels electric, a painless jolt running throughout him. I watched as he tensed up, his big muscles contracting and bunching him up. It was working.

We get to 5, starting at the crown of his head, the volts decrease, turning lugubrious and liquified like molasses sloshing about in his head. 4. The light is so close he can feel the heat, but his body is cooled as the syrupy fluid flows down over him like a waterfall, pooling in his big feet as it fills every crevice. 3. It feels as if he's trudging through mud toward the light, his legs feeling wobbly and gelatinous. 2. So close, his whole body feels like a massless blob, inching toward the final drop into the cavernous light. 1. He crawls toward the ledge, plummeting down into the endless void of bright white light. There, he will sit as I have a little bit of fun.

"Alright, Santana. Can you hear me in there?" Fabrega nods, expressionless. Fuck, that was maybe a 80/20 chance I was gonna fuck this shit up so bad. But I guess God really is on my side here. "Whenever I ask a question, you will answer truthfully. Whatever I say you will incorporate into your life. Now, Santana, what do you do when you're not at work?" His lips moved slowly and replied in monotone.

"I go to the gym, I go to the golf course, I hire my date, and I go home." Ooooh shit. He's giving my friends on the corners a decent living, good for him. Hardly a Godly thing to do. Either way, it was a perfect place to start.

"You love going to the gym, don't you, Santana?" He nodded. "You love gettin' all sweaty don't you?" His head began to shake, his expression furrowing a bit in disgust. "No, Santana. You love getting all sweaty. The feeling of those cool droplets on your hot muscles during a hard workout? Doesn't it feel good?" He pauses, before reluctantly nodding. Ahh I love gettin my fingers in his brain, never ceases to please. "You love that funk that comes off your sweat, Santana. You love sniffin your pits, your big feet, your balls... That musk means you're workin' hard. Keeping in shape. Staying virile. Isn't that right?" He nodded, squirming in the chair. I watched his body try to reject the instructions, try to rebel, but just one repetition had his back to stillness.

"You don't even like golf, do you?" He nodded, I didn't even need to manipulate him. "You much prefer hitting the beach, don't you? Seein' all the guys and gals starin' at your glorious bod... You love it, don't you?" He nodded, the side of his lip curling ever so slightly. "You love bringing out the speedo, letting the goods hang low, letting the buns bulge... you know they all wanna see it anyway..." He nodded again, it was like taking candy from a baby. The guy had the mental fortitude of a frog.

"You like fucking, too. You can have any girl or guy on the street with a single wink." He nodded, and I couldn't help but watch as his groin started to bulge. "Yeah, boy. You love taking that horse cock and plowing it into some ass... plowing it into some pussy... fucking their pretty little mouths..." Drool started to drip from the corner of his lip, and a little wet spot quickly appeared on his pants. "You're a freak, aren't you, Santana? You like fuckin' in the car, in the sauna, at the gym, under the desk... gushing gallons into them while you shove your sneaker on their face." He was moaning, slowly grinding against the open air. Can't lie, I was gropin' myself a bit just watching him.

"Now, Santana. I'm going to bring you back to your office, but when I do, you are going to be super laid back and chill with Santi during your sessions. If he says the word 'sniff' you will return to this space, return to an open mind, just as we have done here today. Do you understand?" He nodded one final time before I began his emergence. Counting back from one to ten, I watched as he slowly came back to the real world, and with one snap, he blinked his eyes and wiped his brow.

"Well, doc. I got the bragging rights." Fabrega pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache. Time to see if it had all paid off.

"Uhh... yeah... Santi. You got me there..." Perfect. He pulled his hand away from his nose, clicking the shades back up to their little hole. It didn't take long until he saw the wet patch on his bulbous package. He chuckled under his breath. "You'll have to excuse the mess, Santi... I have hyperspermia, so sometimes it all just flows out." Hot- and totally unprofessional. Just how I like 'em. I leaned back in my chair, smirkin' the whole way.

"Damn, doc. Firehose down there. Gonna have to show me sometime." He smirked and waved me off.

"I don't fraternize with clients, Santi. Oh, look at the time. I'm late for my 5:30. Alright, I'll see you next week." He stood up, extending his hand, his whole demeanor entirely changed. I slipped my Vans back on, spitting on my hand before gripping his. He shuddered a bit, sure. But we were gonna get real close, real quick.

---

The next few days flew by. My folks were so excited to see that I was looking forward to seeing Dr. Fabrega, and I loved knowing what they didn't. I was excited to see if Dr. Fabrega was gonna be Santana. So when I finally got back in for my appointment, I didn't need to wait long at all. Only five minutes and the door swung open, the receptionist completely flustered. The anticipation was killing me. She sat down behind her computer with tunnel vision and I walked into the office.

At first, I thought it was empty. He wasn't sitting at his desk, on the couch... but as I heard huffing from the balcony, I knew where to find him. I walked up to the sliding glass door, and turned outside to see one hell of a sight.

It was Santana. Nothing on but his whitie-tighties and his damp socks doing pushups on the bench. Fuck, those muscles were glistening in the light, his underwear with damp patches on his ass and bulge. His clothes sat in a pile near his head: jeans, a Miami Heat jersey, some sick dunks I wanted to steal... far from the stuffy suit he had on just the week before. He finally noticed me, and smiled.

"Santi! Hey! Just finishing up my lunch workout. Thought I'd get a session in today on the balcony. Damn, the fresh air is good for exercise!" I smirked. It was night and day. So far, gone was the bible thumping hypocrite, and here was what was underneath. If anything I was doing him a service.

"Shit, Santana! You're looking prime today. You gonna funk out our session today, or?" I punched him in the shoulder, and he giggled like a kid.

"It's eau naturale, my friend. Natural water. That's what it smells like." He slipped on his jeans and his big fuckin' sneakers, tossing the jersey over his head while we walked in. He trailed some deliciously ripe musk, and I couldn't help but savor a bit of it. We plopped down on our seats, and just started shootin' shit. I bitched about the parents, he bitched about his receptionist, I told him about Sammy suckin' my dick clean, and he told me about the threesome with a gym bro and his girlfriend. He was coming along beautifully. Though, I thought to myself, how's about a round two?

"Dude, by the way, those kicks are fuckin' tight." I pointed to the dunks, which he smugly kicked up onto the coffee table, showing them off.

"Thanks, man. They're the lifting shoes. My work boots, heh." I reached out, grabbing ahold of his foot, and yanked it off. He chuckled like a fuckin' idiot while I looked at 'em. Size 13, nice and big- and the smell wafting out of there... Fuck, man.

"Damn, dude you never wash your socks? These stink!" I playfully tossed the shoe at him, and just as he started to brush off the comment, I said my magic word. "Sniff it." Like a flipped lightswitch, his expression turned numb, slowly bringing the shoe to his nose and inhaling his own musk. I clapped my hands, rubbing them together: let's do a little more programming.

"Santana, You're a pretty chill guy, you know that?" He nodded. "You smoke, don't you? You know, the good shit?" Deep in his mind, he had to know it was me talking at this point, so I was talking to him like a bro. Establishes trust, ya know? He shook his head no. "Ahh, come on man. You love kickin' back and toking on that reefer after a long workout." Santana chuckled a bit, before nodding, still nose deep in his sneaker. "Yeah, you love smokin' out your bros, your babes... when you're not shootin' tequila!" He full out laughed on that one, nodding along. The sneaker slowly dropped from his hand, and he laid back in his chair.

"How old are you, Santana?"

"28." Shit, he was only a few years older than me. I mean, he looked young. But hell, you wouldn't have known it from the way he acted.

"Where are you from?" "Rio de Janeiro." Interesting. I clocked the accent. I was pretty proud of myself.

"Why do you try so hard to hide it? The way you talk, the way you dress, the way you act... You act like you're from Ohio." Another chuckle, I should have had a Netflix special. "You're gonna embrace that Brazilian pride, bro. Don't hide it for some mayo drinking buzzkills!" He furrowed his brow, nodding intently. This one was for his own fuckin' good. Be proud of that shit! "You should get some ink to really embrace it. Nothin' sexier than a tatted up stud, am I right?" He nodded again, his bulge once more springing to life. I smirked, simply wanting to know a little something somethin'.

"Do you think Santi is hot?" He sat there for a second, before slowly smiling and nodding. I didn't even need to program that one. Aww, big old himbo. "You're not afraid to let him know, are ya? I mean if you tell his crazy fuckin' parents that he's cured... He wouldn't be your patient anymore... Right?" His bulge twitched again, and he smirked devilishly as he nodded. "You like it when he's all up in your brain, don't you? You like it when he gets his dick deep in there and mind fucks you into a chill, laid back stud. Don't ya?" The dampness grew and his breath got heavy. He nodded, drooling down the sides of his cheeks. "Yeah, you wanna let him in completely, don't ya? Make you like him?" Moans grew, and his thrusting in the air quickened pace. "You wanna be best bros with him, don't ya? Bros with benefits... hangin' out, smokin' weed, hittin' the clubs, swappin' spit... swappin' cum... swappin' subs..." He started fuckin' howl. He was beggin' to splurge. "When I tell you, you will cum. And when you do, everything we talked about will be your truth. Now... Cum."

His eyes opened, still moaning loudly. He gripped onto his jeans, pulling down the waistband and underwear, that big old uncut donkey dick flopping out before shooting his load all over himself. Volley after volley. He wasn't kidding about the hyperspermia: maybe four double shots of his spunk sprayed like a geyser into the air. The 8th Natural Wonder of the World. He laid back and chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head.

"Fuck, brother!" The thickest accent flowed of those lips, deliciously thick. "After today, that'll be down your throat, cara." He pointed at me, hopping to his feet and shoving his python back into his pants. "So, I'll write your discharge papers, it'll get the pais off your back. Act the part until you're out, and just go live." Fuck yeah, we high fived, and I ruffled that sweaty mullet of his. "Hey, come over tonight. I got some friends comin' over... if you and Sammy wanna join." He winked and slapped my back. Damn, I did good.

"I'll be there, man! You save me a round so I can show you how to clean this dick." I groped my bulge, smirking as his bit his lip and winked. I've created a monster.

---

"Ei, sexy! Come get a toke before it's gone!" Such a demanding little bitch, I love him. I slipped his filled condom off my cock, the kinky fucker insisted, and I happily complied. If I'm being real, this psycho has taught me things! I flushed it down the toilet, and swung the bathroom door open to see him lounging on his bed, toking away at the blunt I packed.

"Hey you fuckin' hog, don't you smoke it all!" He chuckled dumbly, reaching over to hand me the blunt, taking the opportunity to snatch my wrist and pull me forward into a kiss. Fuck those lips were so good, pressed against mine or around my cock. "Isn't Carrie coming over soon? You gonna be able to get off so quick?" I pushed away, taking my puff.

"Ahh, plenty to go around, eh?" He groped that musky bulge that I had a feeling Sammy would be huffing later. "Ey, bring me my pants. We can go get a shot before she gets here." Heh, the last month or so crashing with him has been fuckin' sick. The folks think I'm rooming with some guy from the church, when really I'm gooning with my therapist every night in his bed. Savannah is letting me take online courses, I'll have my B.A. in a couple of years, and I'm already getting some gallery hits. Santana is gonna be my armcandy for the opening, and I told him to forget his deodorant. Fuck he’s perfect. But a thought had crept in my head the other day. One last program, one final idea planted in his head... Though, at this point, there was no need to put him under. I'd just ask him.

"Hey, so I gotta go to Georgia to finish up some paperwork at the school. It got me thinking... I'm followin' my dream. What about you?" I tossed him his pants and passed the blunt, taking a deep whiff of those ripe dunks before throwing them his way too.

"I could go back to the practice, though I think the bible thumpers would lose their minds, heh."

"Well... What we did for eachother... What if you did it for others?" I slowly got down to my knees, a smirk crawling across my face. "What if you could help those poor... misguided young men change their lives?" I crawled toward him, spreading his legs wide as I tossed his legs over my shoulders. "Wouldn't that be so... so... fun?" I slowly pulled down his musky briefs, releasing his monstrous cock again, the musky hooded beast slapping me on my cheek. "Then, we could have so... many... new.. friends..." I pulled down his slimy hood and wrapped my lips around his tip. I should have known better. His hand grabbed the back of my head, slamming it down onto his spear, my nose buried in his bush as he thrust back and forth into my mouth.

"Unff... Yeah, brother... Oh yeah... That sounds like a good... unhhhhh... good idea." Grunting, slapping, moaning, slurping... it all rang out in his room, until he gushed another thick load down my throat. "You wanna join me?" And in that moment, I smiled. It was the best idea he'd had yet.

#original #hypnosis #mind control #himbo #bisexual #transformation #male hypnosis #male transformation #stoner #cannabis #musk #footplay #switch #male reprogramming

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ominoose · 3 months

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𝐎𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐚𝐜 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫'𝐬 𝐀𝐬 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬

Characters: Steven Grant, Nathan Bateman, Llewyn Davis, Jake Lockley, Blue Jones Summary: Oscar Characters characters teaching subjects at school. Warnings: None WC: 1.7k

𝗦𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗚𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘁 - 𝗛𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆

His natural passion and accidental ability to hyper-fixate on things means he can teach all the required topics with ridiculous detail, but we all know which subject he dominates best.

The vast majority of the students adore him. Mr Grant’s lessons are always fun, he lets the class make posters (that include all nine members of the Ennead), do Kahoot quizzes, create live re-enactments of historical events. Even when he’s just talking off a power point, his voice, mannerisms and tendency to act things out has the children engrossed and giggling.

The classroom walls are absolutely littered with posters, some bought and some done by students. There's inspiring quotes, positivity kittens and Egyptian puns.

Not only is he a good teacher, but a good mentor. Being autistic himself, he notices any neurodivergent or “othered” kids and makes it a point to find what they’re passionate about and working it into their curriculum. If someones struggling he’ll arrange one-on-one time, asking them what they’re strengths are not just to help figure out how to work with them, but to remind them they have strengths.

While most students do love him, the few troublemakers know he’s not the strictest and thus will absolutely take the piss. Feigning ignorance and struggles as an excuse to why they missed a deadline or didn’t do the homework. Steven, the optimist he is, is always happy to give second, third and fourth chances. It does take that long for him to realise they’re not genuine, and yet he’ll still try, convincing himself that he’ll be able to turn them straight with the magic of friendship.

𝗡𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗕𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗻 - 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗦𝗰𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲

It would be like finding a needle in a haystack trying to find a single student in the many years Nathan had been teaching that didn’t, at least at one point, absolutely despise him. Mr Bateman was far from the friendliest, lax teacher to his students, bordering on a bit of an asshole really. He had an absolute zero tolerance policy for time wasting, messing around and not giving 100%. All students were expected to keep up, get the work done on time and spend time studying and completing exercises at home. If you didn’t do that, you weren’t trying hard enough.

The common conception of a hard-ass wasn’t ill fitting, but it wasn’t without reason. Mr Bateman was a hard-ass because he wanted his students to grasp every opportunity at their disposal and stretch their potential. Some people were born smarter, some learned quicker from a young age but every single person could better themselves regardless of whether they started at Level 10 or Level 0.

It also shouldn’t be said that he wanted students that simply obeyed. It was a story passed down to students about the time a student, in a fit of frustration and defiance to the teacher that always pushed them, completely disregarded the set code structure and wrote their own entirely new one that completed the aim function. While everyone would expect them to be given weeks worth of detention and a reaming, but Mr Bateman simply smiled, said well done and moved on with the lesson. Apparently the kid managed to get a full paid scholarship into top university, but that was just hearsay. Rumour has it his middle name is Hamlet too, snickering students will whisper.

Besides his rigid teaching style, not much is known about him. The classroom is minimalist, only a coffee flask and a pot of three black ballpoints sit on his desk. The walls are sparse beyond a handful of posters about common coding knowledge.

��𝗹𝗲𝘄𝘆𝗻 𝗗𝗮𝘃𝗶𝘀 - 𝗠𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰

The beginning of every new school year followed the same routine. Kids would hear their music teacher was a published artist, get insanely excited, go to class then realise published was not synonymous with success and wither with disappointment. Mr Davis gave up caring years ago, at least he finally had a steady gig, albeit at the cost of his soul.

Classes were average. Sometimes students were treated to his natural singing voice, something that always sparked smiles and attention from the kids, but usually lessons were Llewyn bearing through kids bashing piano keys and drum pads as he wandered around and did his best to tutor them through it.

To kids that were required to take the class, it was alright. Mr Davis wasn’t a hard ass, although it did drain his soul to see kids blind to the brilliance and potential of music. His homework mostly consisted of practicing at home or listening to different genres. To kids that genuinely enjoyed music, it was bliss. Mr Davis was no dream mentor for sure, he was quite stubborn about what he thought “good music” sounded like, but when he sat with someone he could share the passion with, the kid would feel like an equal.

The classroom was always open to kids that wanted time to practice, he knew what an escape music could be, and would never hesitate to sit and work out a song or even add his guitar to whatever a student was playing.

The room was a riot on a good day. All sorts of instruments littered and surrounded the desks, posters of musicians and notes and the different types of brass instruments lined the walls and there was always something playing in the background. A basket of fruit and cereal bars was always sat fully stocked next to the door, with a “Help Yourself” sign stuck to it. No one knew why, and no one ever thought to question it.

𝗝𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗟𝗼𝗰𝗸𝗹𝗲𝘆 - 𝗦𝗽𝗮𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵

Spanish was always a full class, no matter what year or whether the students actually cared about Spanish. Students either swooned over him or wanted to be his friend. Mr Lockley knew, although had no clue why, but who cares as long as he was able to spread some Spanish around. The point is, Mr Lockley had no enemies at school.

Like a typical Spanish teacher, the register was taken in Spanish, if you wanted to ask to go to the toilet it had to be Spanish and if you wanted to pass notes in class they had better be in Spanish. He wasn’t the most forgiving, the man expected homework to be in on time and god help you if it was google translate. Mr Lockley would call you out, make you re-do it in his class at lunch or give detention to repeat offenders.

If students had been doing reasonably well he’d bring in some traditional Latin American foods for students to try, turn on a Spanish movie or even treat them to a little story about his past. Remember the Chef in Ratatouille that killed a guy with one thumb? That's the type of nonsense he talked about, albeit a bit more kid friendly. Most of the stories were embellished tales of him saving a grannies purse from being stolen, but some students always wondered about that hardened, broody looking teacher.

Mr Lockley prefers to keep his help to class time, long past learning his lesson about the very obvious students that came to him giggling and blushing behind their hands. On a rare occasion however, he will accept a student that comes knocking, overly apologetic and pleading for just a little help on their assignment, especially if the student is a quiet one. His lunch is set aside and he gestures for the student to take a seat before going over it with them, helping them with pronunciation, never shaming them or getting annoyed if they make a basic mistake. At the end he’ll even teach them how to say shit in Spanish, if they can keep it a little secret.

The classroom has posters of different Latin American countries, verbs and nouns, the different gendered terms. His desk was a little cluttered, a ‘Mejor Profesor’ mug, papers half marked and some drawings done by students hung nearby.

𝗕𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝗝𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀 - 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘆

No one's favourite teacher but everyone knew him and had something to say. If a student had him later in the day they’d need to pray the morning classes were well behaved or pray they knew someone in said classes that could give a heads up on his moods. It didn’t matter either way, you could walk in one him sucking on his lower lip and glaring the entire class down and walk away with him smiling and patting backs. It was every student for themselves in that class. The only consistency was the white lab coat he wore.

There were obvious favourites, usually people who found a good balance of kissing his ass but not too overtly, asking for help while still expressing basic knowledge. If you asked too many questions, he would openly sigh or ignore you for someone else. If you gave an answer he thought was stupid, he wouldn’t hide the hands raking over his face in annoyance. If you were quiet and kept to yourself, you’d skirt by okay until one day in the middle of a lesson he calls your name with a faux chirp, predatory smile and ask a question. Answer correctly and you can rest assured he'll (probably) leave you alone for the next few lessons, answer wrong and enjoy doing exam questions as practice.

Detention for even a hint of a Breaking Bad reference. Openly hated a student named Jessie. Weirdly, students notice it's not the chemistry part that annoys him, it's the inaccurate portrayal of drug transactions and the costs. No one has dared ask why he knows so much about that.

Mr Jones’ door is usually locked at lunch and after class, he'll blatantly ignore any student that knocks and continue eating. On the stray chance a rare student manages to find him outside the class and has the balls to stop him, with his trademark sigh he'll begrudgingly set up a day and time to help them. It'll be a one-on-one session filled with eyerolls and being talked down to, but you'll get lots of extra knowledge and he'll even throw some of his old textbooks at you for free. Weirdly, he won't bother you in class anymore, just giving you a little smile out the corner of his eye.

The classroom has old periodic table posters from the teacher that retired years before him, and classroom rules about remembering to wear goggles or you'll go blind. The only thing on his desk besides several piles of paper is teacher mugs with variations of chemistry puns he pretends to hate.

#steven grant #nathan bateman #llewyn davis #jake lockley #blue jones #omiwrites

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cerise-on-top · 1 month

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Could you make a cute alphabet for Valeria?

Hey! Sure!

Fluff Alphabet for Valeria

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

While Valeria does love going shopping with you above most things, she’d actually love nothing more than to go stargazing with you. Although she has no idea why, she actually really likes looking at the stars and knows a few stories behind some of the constellations as well. Not very many, but she can tell you a few. She isn’t even that into space, but something about looking at the endless universe and realizing its beauty just gets to her. Loves doing that with you whenever she can.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

She loves the fact that you speak your mind whenever you feel like it. Valeria doesn’t particularly like guessing games and the uncertainties that come with them, she’d much rather have all the information she can get from the get go. So you telling her what you think without sugarcoating everything is a nice change of pace since everyone else usually hides things from her to get on her good side. You’re honest, sometimes even blunt, and she can truly appreciate that.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

If someone hurt you, then she’d go after them and teach them a lesson. A not very kind and gentle one, mind you. Anyone who makes you feel bad deserves to freeze in the ninth circle of hell, being chewed on by the devil himself. However, if you’re feeling sad for no apparent reason, then she’ll try to distract you by taking you on a shopping spree or getting you your favorite food. She’s not at all good at comforting people, but she tries. If you have a panic attack she’d try the same thing, except she’d speak a bit more softly with you than before.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Somewhere in a nice mansion, with a few trustworthy maids, where everything manages itself, she’d share her empire with you. On the one hand she doesn’t want you involved in the slightest in all of it, but on the other hand she sort of wants you to become as successful as she is in her business. She’d love to rule over the cartel with you, she’d love for you to be as cunning as she is. However, she knows that likely won’t ever happen, largely because she’s just that careful, but she can dream about it.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Valeria is dominance personified. Sure, you can make some suggestions and she’s more inclined to listen to you than someone else, but she wears the pants and it’s blatantly obvious in your relationship. Whatever she says goes, even if you can get into fights because of that. If she tells you to hide, you will. If she tells you to not tell a single soul about your relationship, you won’t. Although she may not always know everything, she usually knows what’s best and what she’s doing. She wants the both of you to be safe.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

I don’t think she’d forgive easily, not even you. She can be a very petty woman, even with you. While I don’t think she’ll let it out on you as much, she would definitely yell at you when she’s angry enough. Sure, she’ll try to be more on the rational side with you, but her anger gets the better of her and she’ll raise her voice at you. If you start crying then she’ll calm down a bit and forgive you more easily, in fact she might try to yell a bit less as well. However, it takes a proper apology from you for her to forgive you.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

It may not seem like she’s all that grateful to have you around, but she is thankful for you. She doesn’t have a lot of time for you, she sometimes gets hurt for one reason or another and doesn’t always tell you, when she’s home she doesn’t always take care of the chores. However, she’s truly grateful for you to care for her as much as you do, she doesn’t take it for granted. She does try to spend time with you whenever she can, she tries not to worry you with her injuries when she has some, she does try to do the chores but she’s usually too tired to do them once she’s home. However, she’ll try to show her gratitude by buying you expensive things. Again, she’s not good at being affectionate.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Yes, there are plenty of things she doesn’t tell you about. She doesn’t particularly like talking about her past all that much, even if it wasn’t all that traumatic either. Unless you somehow know about her having been part of the Mexican army, she won’t mention that either, having had too many regrets there to properly enjoy talking about it. If you ask her about her past then she’ll give you a cocky grin and tell you to figure it out on your own if you want to know about it so badly. Valeria may love you, but you really don’t need to know everything about her, some things are better swept under the rug.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

I think Valeria may have become a somewhat more kind and patient person once she’s been with you for a while. She’s a businesswoman, so she knows how to deal with ne’er-do-wells. However, if you ask her to spare someone’s life, if you tell her to not be as mad at her people for messing up, then she might listen to you. You’d be the only reason some people are still alive at that point. Sometimes she’d remember what you said and might become a bit nicer. It doesn’t happen very often, she has a business to run, but it happens.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Valeria is a very jealous person. Someone talking to you for too long, you talking about someone in a more adoring tone than you should, someone being too friendly with you, it all pisses her off. Especially if that person makes you uncomfortable. She’ll get pissy and cranky, she’ll tell that dumb bastard to fuck off and leave you alone. She won’t claim you as hers in public, she won’t sling her arm around you or anything, but she will glare at anyone too close to you. Also not afraid of telling you how ticked off she actually is. Give her a lot of attention and she’ll calm down again.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Yes, Valeria is a very good kisser. Back when she was still single, women would actually flock to her just to feel her tender touch and kisses, that would leave anyone breathless. She knows what she’s doing and she does it so incredibly well, she’ll always leave you yearning for more of her. I think your first kiss was her pinning you against the wall and just going for it, after she made sure you liked her as well. She loves feeling like the bigger person and flustering you whenever she can.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

It would be such an expensive, elaborate thing. You’ll be going to the most expensive restaurant, you’ll be going to see a musical or an opera and then she’ll buy you a nice gift. Basically anything to please you and court you in her own way. She has too much money anyway, so why not spend it on you when she can? Afterwards, ever so confident, she’ll tell you that she likes you in a romantic manner. While she may be a bit nervous about your reaction, she tries not to seem too anxious about it all. She can usually play it off well enough.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

On the one hand, she sort of does want to get married, on the other hand, she really doesn’t. Does she really want that sort of commitment to someone for the rest of her life? The thought scares her. Besides, she wants to keep you safe as well, so she can’t really afford to marry you as she is. Just being partners is enough for her, in all honesty. She leans towards not wanting to marry you, but her situation could change at any point in time and she might want to someday.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Cariño/a or querido/a, she really doesn’t like going for anything more fancy or romantic. She’s not a verbally affectionate person in the first place. And even then, she usually just calls you that when she’s drunk. She’s more affectionate when drunk anyway, but her Spaniglish is hard to understand for someone who doesn’t speak both languages.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

She tries courting you immediately as soon as she’s figured out she’s in love with you. Lots of gifts, tries to spend more time with you. Hell, she might just send you some money just because she can as well, especially if you need some. It’s not too obvious she’s in love, it only seems like she’s playing favorites, which she definitely is. She expresses her feelings by taking you on lots of coffee dates and just talking to you. If you’re very close then she’ll invite you to her home as well.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

She keeps your relationship a secret from the world. She’s a very dangerous woman, she could have anyone killed within days. However, she could, in turn, also be killed at any point in time. The same goes for you if anyone were to ever find out about the both of you. She really doesn’t brag about you, she doesn’t like PDA either and will actively advise you against being affectionate with her in public. All of that stuff stays behind closed doors.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

If you’re ever afraid to talk to someone, she’s got you. You want to change your order? You wanna make a new friend? You wanna compliment that stranger on their cool shirt? Valeria can easily do all of that and more for you. She talks to many people on the daily anyway, among them lots of strangers. She’s not afraid of talking to people, quite the opposite, she’s very good at talking to them. She may be blunt like barely anyone else, but she’s got a certain charm and charisma as well to her. If you’re on her good side, then chances are you’re settled for life.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

She’s not very romantic. Sure, she’ll cuddle with you on the couch when she has the time and watch a movie with you, but she won’t call you any embarrassing nicknames and dance in the rain with you. She’s far too practical for that. In fact, she doesn’t really like most romantic gestures in the first place. She’s not averse to them, but if she doesn’t have to hug you from behind then she won’t complain about it either. She loves you, don’t get me wrong, but she’s not a romantic at heart.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Valeria supports you, I can tell you that much. She has enough money to buy the world if she wanted to, so she can buy you just about anything you may want or need. You wanna learn how to drive? Here’s a Porsche. You wanna become a world renowned chef? Tell her what ingredients you need and they’ll be delivered to your door the next day. She may not have the most encouraging words for you, but she tries to help you in a way that doesn’t feel awkward to her either. She tries really hard for you, even if she may not always succeed at it.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

She doesn’t particularly need anything new all the time. Sure, sometimes she’d like to go to a new country with you, if she has the time, but she doesn’t get that urge very often. She really does prefer doing the same things with you over and over again when she can. However, that’s a rarity in and of itself since she’s not at home very often, so she doesn’t get to see you a lot either. That’s probably the reason why she prefers having a routine in the first place, she doesn’t always have one at work.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

She probably knows you very well. She’s a very observant woman, so she can tell when you’re upset, when you’re happy or when you need something from her, for example. However, she’s not an empathetic person at all. She really can’t feel what you’re feeling, but it doesn’t bother her either. Empathy would just get in her way at work, so she really prefers it that way. That way she can judge situations more objectively as well. She’s not a very emotional person, except when she’s angry.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

The relationship is pretty important to her, but I don’t think she’d want to give up her cartel for you. As mentioned before, she’s not a very romantic person. She values her status as El Sin Nombre a lot and wants to be respected by everyone. She worked hard to get where she wants to be and she really doesn’t wanna give all of that up. Sure, she values you more than many other people, but she won’t give up her job for you.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Every year she looks forward to going to a Christmas market with you. If it wasn’t for you, she wouldn’t celebrate that holiday in the first place, but she does like going to a Christmas market, taking in all the colors, drinking some hot beverages and maybe going on a ferris wheel with you as well. Even if you really don’t wanna go, she’ll drag you there at least once a year. Naturally, she’ll be the one to pay for everything, but she will feel a lot of sentiment if you pay for her this time around.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

She’s not a very affectionate person. She may praise you for a task well done, but she won’t be overly romantic with you. She sometimes likes kissing and cuddling, usually she doesn’t mind it, and sometimes she absolutely abhors any and all physical affection. Naturally, she’ll tell you how she feels that day. She much prefers to show her affections through spending time with you at a cafe and talking to you and giving you gifts over cuddling in bed all day. It’s truly rare for Valeria to initiate any sort of physical affection. Except when she’s drunk, she’s more inclined to cuddle then.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

She usually just calls you when she can, no need to beat around the bush too much. She doesn’t keep a picture of you on her out of fear of something happening to you, so her options are limited. Sometimes she thinks about the things she’d like to do with you once she finally gets back to you again. However, she’s usually too busy to miss you too much anyway. Tries to get back to you as soon as possible, though.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Valeria would kill and torture for you. She breaks the law on the regular anyway, but for you she’d break every law at once. If you’ve been together for a very long time, then she’ll take a literal bullet for you as well. It’s not often someone gets that sort of privilege, so you should feel really honored. She’d have some of her men killed just to make sure you get to smile again. You’re more important than them anyway. So yeah, Valeria would go to great lengths just to make you happy.

#cod #cod x reader #valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #I am not taking any more of these in their entirety and that's final #I'm gonna put my foot down this time #also ya boi passed their first theoretical exam today and I am very happy about that 🎉#now it's only the proper theoretical exam and the practical one as well and I'll finally have that driver's license!!#I got 100% and 92% today so I did really well too :3 #now I finally don't have to study as much anymore and can devote my time to other things such as writing #however I won't have time to write tomorrow since I'll be at my country house with my parents and we'll be grilling there!#there's so much I need to do these days: write for my blog. write a letter every day. journal #I do a lot of writing these days and it's kind of exhausting actually #but hey at least there's very little to do at work so I can usually do as I please there for now #however it's extremely boring as well unfortunately #well it's only for this month afterwards I'll be swarmed with work again #not sure if that's much better actually

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n-sani-tea · 2 years

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Δ Φ

Delta ream. An AU based on Deltarune the title Δ Φ means "Delta 500" where delta is the letter D and "ream" is 500 units of paper. The combination means "Dream" in simple terms. Of course, the AU is more focused on dreaming.

In this AU the premise is similar to Alice in Wonderland's idea. Where Kris visits the dark world in their dreams but is actually witnessing a memory of a past life, hence the change in appearance from regular Kris to The Knight or "Sir K" as they are known (They are still nonbinary). The theme is similar to the original Deltarune but has more light-hearted tones. Ralsei is the one who leads kris "Down the rabbit hole" so to speak. his clothing is more themed around pyjamas and nightgowns. The kingdoms are all part of one world instead of being made from the fountains, and each realm is connected to the next.

Instead of dark fountains, the worlds are powered by star fountains as a form of electricity, if the fountain dies then the realm quickly fades into nothing but a memory. Each world is tied to the real world by memory. If Kris destroys the fountain they forget the world and it is gone forever, each fountain is under threat of destruction from an unknown entity who goes by many names, "The eater of memories" "Nightmare" and "G" is a few. The paper reference in the title is a diary That Kris keeps that has 5∞ (endless) pages for keeping notes of their memories. If they fail to save the fountain from G, the pages will tear themselves from the diary and burn. The diary is also the save system instead of the save points, meaning you can save anywhere.

Susie is an antagonist for the AU and is formed from Kris' memories of her bullying them, she is not much of a threat though as Kris doesn't find her that intimidating IRL but still has her axe and such. Ralsei does not follow you and is instead given a role similar to Toriel. where he guides you through the relams. Those who do follow you are found along the way as the secret bosses but are no longer secret. Jevil, Spamton and whoever will come next will contribute to your party.

The main antagonists will be the usual, King, Queen and so on. they are instead mind-controlled by G. and as a result have been covered by a black goop where the edges are square drips akin to pixels. they act the same as they usually do but will glean a more friendly personality upon being cleared of the goop. Jevil is a jester for the king as usual and is not under arrest but is still wacky. The king will send them after Kris as a goon before the big battle. Lancer is the same but knows the king is being mind controlled by G any characters being mind-controlled are known as "Nightmares"

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alex51324 · 7 months

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That Tweet, take 2

OK, so my first reaction to That Tweet, by Djenks, was as follows:

My money is on DJenks realizing that he shat the bed & now furiously trying to write himself out of the corner he's in. (My second guess is that he basically already knows there won't be a Season 3, but there's some network or business-related reason for not announcing it yet.)

But now that I've had a bit more time to think about it, I am kind of seeing a scenario where he could've intended it to be a fuckery all along.

Step one is that we imagine him being a bit disappointed by how Lucius's death fooled absolutely no-one. It's likely that he was planning for the reveal that he was alive to be a much bigger moment than it actually was; maybe he even has some Big Reveal ideas that he had to put on ice once it became clear that there was very little actual suspense surrounding Lucius's fate. This is, obviously, since I don't know him personally, a big hairy guess, but it seems like a very plausible reaction for someone to have, when they put a lot of effort into planning a surprise and it falls flat because everyone guessed it.

Step two is him deciding to sell Izzy's "death" a little harder, with the emotional death scene and the funeral (where we do not actually see the body, and a mourner, Wee John, is missing) and all. It's laying it on a little thick, in my opinion, but again, we did all confidently (and correctly) assume that Lucius was alive based on the evidence that "this show wouldn't do that" and "The Stede-Ed reunion won't work if he's really dead," so you can see how a showrunner could, hypothetically, get to--

Step three, is Djenks opening up his socials at the crack of dawn on Thursday morning, expecting to see reams of speculation and analysis about how Izzy could have survived, and being genuinely shocked to instead find seas of angry and devastated fans suggesting that he should perhaps give up television in favor of a career in going and fucking himself.

Step four, realizing that he drastically overshot the mark re: creating genuine suspense over character death, he tweets out a big obvious hint.

I don't love this interpretation--for one thing, there is nothing in the episode we saw that would provide a plausible in-universe reason for faking Izzy's death. It would be pretty easy to create one--have Prince Ricky No-Nose vow personal vengeance against Izzy Hands in specific for calling him a syphilitic cunt/his role in foiling the "end of piracy" scheme--but we did not see anything like that. To make the funeral scene work as a fuckery, it would be necessary to insert a flashback between the "death" and the funeral in which A) this happens, and B) the other characters find out about it. That's a cheap trick that I personally hate--the old, "Haha, I made you feel a thing by deliberately withholding context"--but again, if it's an overcorrection for the complete and abject failure of the effort to create suspense around Lucius's fate, I guess I can live with it.

If Izzy's death is a fuckery, that addresses a lot of the other problems with the finale. First, Ed and Stede's obviously-doomed, harebrained scheme to give up piracy and be innkeepers (in a dilapidated shack, on an island where we see no other people or settlements) is plausibly funny, as long as we aren't thinking that Izzy died for it.

Second, the tonal whiplash of going from the funeral to the wedding is also fine if everyone involved knows perfect well that the guest of honor at the funeral is actually recuperating just offscreen.

(Thirdly, there's Captain Frenchie--I haven't seen much discussion of that, but the only problem I had with it is that I can't think of any moments from the season where he stood out as being a leader for the crew. I might've missed something; he's not one of my particular blorbos, but it wouldn't have taken much, just something you can look back on and see how it was setting up him becoming captain.

And, crucially, we do have those few little moments of setup for Frenchie as First Mate to Captain Izzy. Frenchie was there during the dark days, during which he presumably underwent some skill development, pirate-wise, and definitely bonded with Izzy to some extent. We see him holding Izzy's hand during his breakdown, and he presumably helped hide him and definitely lied to Blackbeard about it, and then how they were sitting in the cell on Zheng's ship--it isn't a whole lot, but you can look back and see why it makes sense for Izzy to pick him.)

Making Izzy's death a fuckery doesn't do anything to fix the way the whole Zheng thing fell flat. (Why give her a massive fleet in the first place, only to take it away? Why did we get those scenes of ships being towed across land? What was she doing selling soup on the Republic of Pirates? For that matter, why did she come to the Caribbean in the first place, after becoming Pirate Queen of the Chinese seas?) It doesn't help with how Ed and Stede keep repeating the same beats of getting closer, then running away, then reuniting without ever talking about their relationship or their issues. It doesn't address why the Kraken Era had to go that dark, if the whole thing was just going to be smoothed over in the space between episodes 4 and 5, and how Ed never really takes responsibility for any of what he did.

However, middle installments of trilogies are notoriously difficult to write, and it isn't particularly fair to judge them before you get to the last part. Most of the weak points could look better in hindsight once we know how it all turns out.

(And, not for nothing, as long as Izzy is alive, we can still get something where Ed reckons with the Kraken Era, and particularly-but-not-exclusively what he did to Izzy. I don't see how that works with a dead Izzy, though--it's too easy for Ed to keep minimizing what he did and offloading blame onto him.)

There isn't a whole lot of evidence for an Izzy Lives scenario. All we have is:

This Show Wouldn't Do That (which, recall, was point 1 in why we didn't believe Lucius was dead. However, it is weakened by the absence of point 2--unlike with Lucius, the person who "killed" Izzy isn't a character we're expected to like or root for.)

No body at the funeral. I initially interpreted the funeral as being intended as proof that Izzy was really dead, a sort of "don't get your hopes up, guys," after what happened with Lucius. But again, if we're thinking about the framing of Izzy's "death" as an overcorrection to how completely non-fooled we all were by Lucius's, maaaaaybe not? I mean, if he really wanted to hammer the nail into the coffin, we would have seen Izzy lying in the grave, or his body being sewn into a shroud of sailcloth (as was the custom), or something. (Also, point 2b, the unicorn did have two legs.)

No Wee John at the funeral. There are certainly Doylist reasons he might've been left out--maybe the way the shooting schedule worked out, it saved money or some other resource to just leave him out of that scene, something like that. But for an in-universe reason, "somebody had to stay back and nurse Izzy" makes a lot of sense. (I mean, if this show operated on real-world logic, someone would have had to stay with the ship, but that's never been a concern before.) Wee John helping Izzy with his makeup for Calypso's birthday was presumably a bonding experience that involved some vulnerability on Izzy's part, so it would be weird for him to just nope out of the funeral, but plausible that Izzy would find him acceptable as a caregiver.

Stede and Ed's conversation over Izzy's grave could, just barely, make sense as a conversation about how Ed and Izzy are now on separate paths, with no particular guarantee that they'll see each other again. It takes a certain amount of massaging to make it fit, but it almost could? (Except Zheng's part really doesn't--unless the grave actually contains someone Ed cares about, or she isn't in on the secret that the funeral is a fuckery.)

I'm not in love with any of this, or even particularly convinced by it--my enthusiasm for any Season 3 is going to be pretty dampened, unless the announcement that it's been picked up includes the information that Con O'Neill has a contract to appear as a major character in all 8/10/whatever episodes--but IDK, I guess it's maybe not outside the realm of possibility? Ish?

#our flag means death #ofmd #izzy hands #I'm just spitballing here

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