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#horrendously down bad for this cartoon character
crowlion · 4 months
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Nia is so hot + my wife
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burst-of-iridescent · 2 months
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atla live action thoughts: episode 2
SPOILERS AHEAD
tw: opinions
things i liked:
love, love, love the depth they're adding to suki here. it feels as though they've drawn on the bits we get from the original and deepened it - it makes total sense that suki would feel stifled after having been trapped on kyoshi her whole life, and it adds more weight to her being inspired by sokka to leave kyoshi and go to ba sing se in the future
really enjoyed maria zhang's performance as suki. she brings the fierce strength, but there's also a softness and vulnerability to how she plays the character that's really nice to see
as much as i love suki kicking the sexism out of sokka, toning down the overt misogyny was a good idea, especially since it pretty much disappears from sokka's arc after this episode. i think they did a good job addressing the spirit of the original in having sokka try and show off to suki only to be severely humbled and still choosing to better himself by going back to learn from her
aang and katara laughing at sokka's horrendous flirting... biblically accurate book 1 trio dynamic
i wasn't sold on iroh in the first episode but paul sun-hyung lee 100% won me over here. the scene where he tries to convince zuko to eat quailpole egg felt right out of the cartoon lmao. i do like that this iroh seems to be trying to steer zuko to the right path earlier and more obviously
thank GOD aang still seems to be affected by what happened at the southern air temple. i love the scene where he was hesitant to train because the only person he'd ever trained with was gyatso. going from discovering genocide to riding the unagi was always a major tonal whiplash in the cartoon and it barely worked in animation so i'm glad they're giving aang's trauma the weight and respect it deserves in live action
the action and bending continue to impress, as do the visuals and cinematography. the show is just so visually beautiful to watch and it feels like a fantasy world take notes percy jackson
things i disliked/am conflicted about:
don't really get why we're delving into kyoshi so deeply here. it's not a bad change but neither do i see the need for it when we could've spent the time on other things. if anything, the avatar who should be more fleshed out at this point in the story is roku
katara receiving the waterbending scroll from gran-gran instead of stealing it... i get it, but i also don't love it. it really spoke to katara's desperation and will to become a waterbender that she stole from pirates just to get a chance to learn, and it also highlights the tragedy of what happened to the southern water tribe benders that she had not a shred of her culture or heritage left to guide her
i don't think sukka had to be pushed so heavily in this episode lmao. once or twice was fine, but it was starting to get a little cringe by the end. also not a fan of them kissing at this stage, especially if they're keeping the yue/sokka romance. maria and ian do have pretty good chemistry though
why are we going to the north pole because aang had a vision of them being in trouble?? wasn't needing to learn waterbending enough?? i don't mind them foreshadowing the ending battle but aang needing to learn the elements is the driving force of the show and it doesn't feel like we're getting that here
why is zhao... like that. there is no WAY animated zhao would've ever proposed working with zuko. this zhao feels a lot more like a long feng or a littlefinger than the reckless, hot-headed original who was meant to be a foil to zuko. the whole reason for introducing zhao is to show us that zuko is not the worst of the fire nation by a long shot, but between the two in the live action zuko still feels like the more unlikeable one and that's worrying. i hope we're still getting the zuko v zhao agni kai bc i have no idea where this storyline is heading
aang can only talk to the past avatars in the avatar's shrine? i can foresee this causing issues later on in book 2 and 3, if they happen
i'm guessing the zuko/katara "fight" here is supposed to replace the "i'll save you with the pirates" (RIP you were always gonna be too iconic for netflix) but it just feels out of place. what do we really get from this scene that we didn't know before? in the original scene, this is the moment we see katara master a new waterbending move AND use it in a fight but she's already bending earlier in the episode so it doesn't have the same effect. zuko seeming ready to burn katara while she's cowering and defeated also doesn't feel like something zuko would do. the dude spared zhao, of all people.
overall episode rating: 7/10
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hoshi-y · 1 year
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"You're not Alone.. My Love"
Headcanons
Genre : Fluff
Characters : Teru Minamoto
TW : None
A/N :HI.... I ACTUALLY POSTED THIS LOVELY PERSONS REQUEST ALREADY BUT I DELETED IT BECAUSE I DID IT WRONG... And if I don't correct it, it will haunt me forever 😭 They wanted Teru headcanons with a reader waking up from a crazy dream, lovely request but I just had to mess it up 😞 So I still hope you see this TY FOR REQUESTING
I HOPE YOU ENJOY 💗
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"Nobody is gonna come hurt you anymore.."
You know when you have this one dream that you keep on having over and over again?
Well some are nice and sweet, some can be funny
But yours is absolutely horrendous
You thought, maybe you'd habe one of those cute lil dreams that keeps on appearing
Yours is an absolute nightmare
It's always the same every night, Black surrounding with a persons back turned towards you with a distance of 20 feet
You always couldn't make up how they look like, but you were scared to know
It was always the same dream everyday, you'd go from one dream to another and this specific one shows up all the time
It affects your sleeping schedule, because you feared that once you close your eyes that persons who's back os turned towards you will sprint foward
Well, it did happen, everytime you blinked and moved they move
You'd jolt awake breathing heavily as you grip onto the blanket
Teru would wake up instantly and turn on the lights calming you down
He knows about the dream you keep on having, and he absolutely hates seeing you like this.
He'd stay by your side, not leaving even just for a second
If you did ask for something like water, he'd get up, grab whatever you needed and come right back before you could even stand up and follow him
Since you weren't tired at all, he'd wrap you in the blanket and turn on the TV and watch cartoons or comedy shows to get your mind off things
Teru would lay you down on his chest combing your hair with his hand, something about it helps calm you down
Teru would tell you about his days or stories to help keep you distracted and not have your mind running off to the figurw in your dream
You hungry? Well you kind of feared for your life when you heard him say he'd 'cook' you something
It didn't turn out too bad, he had a tutorial up on his phone to help him
When you try to drift off to sleep, he brings you closer to him, no gap in between you two.
Teru would soothe you to sleep or even hum lullabies
He'd stay awake just for a few more minutes just to make sure you went to sleep peacefully
Soft snoring was heard from you as you cuddled up against Teru, he gave you a soft smile kissing your forehead
Time check, 3:34am, but he didn't give a damn. He'd stay up all night just to make sure you didn't wake up again because of the nightmare. Once he confirmed you were fast asleep, he turned off the lamp and layed back down caging you in his arms as he entangled his legs with yours.
"You're not alone, my Love.. I'll be right here just for you.." He said as he peppered your face with kisses, hearing a soft hum from you, he smiled
His eyes were slowly giving up on him as he was also pulled into a slumber.
That night.. Was the first time you didn't witness that dream again, and continued that way.
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Im so sleepy
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ohbo-ohno · 8 months
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Mental image of pool boy Johnny accidentally walking into the pool first time he sees reader like a cartoon character. That is all.
Local idiot man down horrendously bad for his milf boss. More at 8
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heloflor · 2 years
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So, making that post about how I love the vibe of the Telltale characters making the main duo blend in rather than stand out and the fact that it’s a world with continuity made me think about how those games also have what I see as my favorite version of Sam and Max’s characters for a handful of reasons that I’m going to explain here.
Little disclaimer first : Note that I am in NO WAY trying to defend the bad and offensive parts of the Telltale games, neither in this post nor in my previous one. While this trilogy + Poker Night are my favorite entries of this franchise, it doesn’t change the fact that this trilogy has its issues and I can absolutely understand people disliking or even hating those games because of it.
Now, onto the things I like about this interpretation of the characters:
- First of all, out of all the versions of this duo, I really appreciate how morally gray this version is, and how they managed to balance “they’re sociopaths who only care about themselves and each other” with “they’re good people whose work is to help others”.
I mean, in the comics, the vr game and “Hit the Road”, Sam and Max are a lot more on the “trigger-happy” side, doing their jobs for the money and the free violence. In the cartoon, they’re much softer and have a more “mature” vibe to them, being more on the “do-gooder” side (while still retaining their love for violence obviously).
But in the Telltale games, it feels like they managed to mix a bit of both in their characters. Like you have Sam playing nice to pretty much everyone even if he doesn’t particularly like them (or being a troll with a smile with those he doesn’t like) or Max being able to form friendships (Sybil, Mama Bosco, Superball) despite how judgmental he can be. Sometimes, like in most of S2, they get involved in stuff because they’re curious about what’s happening regardless of what others want, and end up doing the right thing by the end.
Basically, Telltale Sam and Max are douchebags who do the right thing. They can be assholes towards some people while having friends, they sometimes save the world by accident or because they were fucking around in the right place at the right time. They’re good people, but they’re not great. And by the end of the day, they’ll always prioritize each other over everything else, with the best example being 305. Sam should be at his most selfless in order to save the city, and yet he’s at his most selfish because he cares more about Max than anything else.
- Still something regarding both (TRIGGER WARNING for mention of depression and suicidal thoughts) : while the execution in the games was meh at best and horrendous at worst, I really like the concepts of Sam dealing with body image issues and Max being hinted at having depression. In a way, I think it makes them feel more “flawed” and human by showing that, despite always smiling and acting like nothing matters/never taking anything seriously, they actually do suffer from personal struggles and are both insecure about some parts of themselves.
Tbh I find it a bit sad that no other iteration of those characters really showcases it (yes in the cartoon Sam is shown eating a lot and Max shuts down whenever he and Sam are apart, but in the cartoon Sam has no issues with his looks and Max’s situation isn’t really talked about. There’s also the vr game with one line about Sam being insecure, the “it’s either Sam or the afterlife and I’m good with either one !” line from Max, and Sam in the last fight telling Max to “go into your happy place”. And while that’s definitely a bit more by making them have those issues, it’s still glossed over quickly).
Though, again, the execution was very bad. Sam’s body issues are always played out as a joke with other people calling him fat and him getting offended, while Max’s depression is called laziness in 106 (even if they didn’t intend for it to be depression, the fact that they consider the vice acting like that to be laziness is fucked up) on top of it not being directly addressed in 305, nevermind the fact that Max is shown to be literally suicidal in 305 or at the very least hates himself and is self-destructive since the Superego is part of him !!!
The worst is that there was actual potential here ! Like, in 304, Sam is shown to be uncomfortable around the clones and there’s especially that one cutscene if you find one of the clones’ underwear. Meanwhile, Max spends the whole chapter showing interest in said clones, thus proving Sam that he’s getting worried over nothing. Heck, even Mama Bosco is into the clones ! And yet they never take that opportunity to delve into Sam’s insecurities !
Same for 305. There was a lot of potential to talk about Max’s issues instead of just saying he has them but never dwelling on them. For example, have Sam comment to the Superego on how he knew Max wasn’t alright but never realized it was so severe, or have a few sentences about it from Sam to the rest of the main cast, or even have Sam ask alternate!Max if he’s okay. Or maybe even simply have the episode be more focused on Max suffering. After all, when you think about it, 305 is all about trying to prevent Max from committing suicide, and yet it’s completely glossed over by making the Superego some kind of villain that needs to be stopped !
And yes, I know the franchise is a comedy, but S3 got into some dark stuff nonetheless !
So yeah, the execution in the trilogy was very bad. Still, I love the concept itself of Sam and Max dealing with such personal problems.
- Last thing regarding both before I get more specific : while it’s definitely helped by the 30+ hours length, the trilogy is the instance in which Sam is the most explicitly bi, especially regarding his attraction to men (one line with one of the zombies in 203, Peppers in 205, Flint Paper, that one “Max is looking pretty buff” line from 305, Max in general tbh, two-three lines towards Ash and Brock in Poker Night 2), while Max is the most explicitly gay (not only with the “doesn’t even like girls” joke but also due to his regular flirting with men).
Which leads to another thing : if I had to describe the evolution of Sam and Max’s relationship, I’d say that, basically, Sam and Max love each other in the comics, “Hit the Road” and the vr game, but they are in love with each other in the cartoon and the Telltale games. So that’s another bonus this version of the characters has in my shipper eyes (bonus that the cartoon has as well).
Overall, it’s just very sweet to see not only their usual shenanigans and complicity but also to have a few small moments like the “I love you”s, the way they would always prioritize each other in the face of danger, the little touches like Max jumping on Sam’s back, him fixing Sam’s tie in 204, or the way Sam smiles whenever Max is being a dork. It’s all very good and cute stuff (and the writers of the vr game are cowards for reverting their dynamic back to their “Hit the Road” selves. Heck, even in this game, there were some cute moments like Max’s excitement to go into the tunnel of love or Sam asking the 8-ball if he and Max will stay together forever !).
- Regarding Sam himself, first of all I absolutely adore the “uncool 40 years-old dad” energy he gives off at times ! Like him dancing in 203, the “boom ! More science !” line from 301 or even the “that’s how we do things downtown homie !” from Poker Night 2. This man is just so goddamn cringe while being the biggest dork and I adore every second of it !
Secondly, my favorite thing about Sam overall (aka in the whole franchise) is how overprotective he can get, the best examples being in the cartoon with him losing his shit everytime Max is in danger. But even in the Telltale trilogy, we get plenty of those instances.
What’s more, on top of his usual overprotective self, we also have moments where he just gets worried because of the situation, like in 301 and 304 where you can ask Max in a few rooms how he’s doing with his new powers (btw I love how Max is clearly a bit annoyed by Sam’s worries but at the same time seems to understand why he feels that way and doesn’t try to invalidate them). Idk I just really love this side of Sam and I’m glad we get plenty of this here.
Also, not really related to him being protective but I kinda love how much of a petty bitch Sam is towards Hugh Bliss just because he’s jealous of the way Max drools when around the guy. I mean, usually Sam smiles when interacting to people, including when he’s being an asshole to those he dislikes (with some exceptions like him going noir or being in a desperate situation or provocated etc). But with Hugh Bliss, Sam is uncharacteristically angry and provocative the whole way through, even way before knowing the guy’s evil. And the only thing Hugh “has” that other characters don’t is Max being into him, which really makes it look like Sam is jelly (tbf Max is also really into Flint Paper but Sam likes the guy so it’s no surprise he doesn’t get mad about it).
Special mention to his anger in 205 with the “bend over provocatively” line. Like Sam, buddy, Hugh Bliss is dead. He won’t steal your man so stop feeling so threatened.)
Finally, I love how bad Telltale Sam is with kids, especially with how it contrasts with Max’s baby fever. Like, in 305, Sam straight-up thinks the point of having kids is to pay less taxes ! Also he adopts a cockroach, accidentally eats it as a roomba and goes “welp, no son of mine will die from that !” This dude is such a fucking disaster with kids and I love every second of it (yes I know he’s not that bad with kids but I like to headcanon that he is because it’s funny).
Just imagine a scenario of Sybil asking Sam to babysit her kid, afraid to ask Max for obvious reasons, but then it turns out Sam called Max less than 5 minutes in because he just has no idea what to do and Max is much better with kids than he is.
- For Max, first of all I love how much this guy adores his body in those games. Like, there are several instances of him calling himself hot and I really like it. I think what I love about this is that 1. it contrasts with Sam’s body issues, which is always interesting to see and 2. Max himself has a bit of a stomach, so it’s really sweet to see someone with a bit of a chub going around calling themselves hot and shaking their booty around. It’s just really sweet to see this kind of positivity. Because yeah, I do believe that Max is sincere when complimenting his own body. It doesn’t feel like him pretending to like himself or trying to compensate for his low self-esteem, at least in my opinion.
Secondly, I like how flirty Max is in those games. It’s pretty funny actually to see how different Max’s sexuality is shown throughout the franchise. In the comics and the vr game, they just never talk about romance. In “Hit the Road”, he’s not really interested in it. In the cartoon, he’s straight-up afraid of “mushy” romance (and if you imagine each iteration of those characters to be their own dimension/timeline, I’d argue that Cartoon Max is more likely to be aromantic homosexual, since despite his fear/hatred of romance there are a few sex jokes hinting that he sleeps with Sam + he’s low-key into Mack Salmond and it could be sexual attraction).
But in the Telltale games ? Dude’s a raging homosexual and I love it. I especially like how much this sorta pairs-up with him having a good opinion of his body, like him loving himself is giving him the confidence to be more obvious about his attraction for men and act more flirty with them.
Lastly, my favorite thing about Max is his baby fever and how much he adores kids and wants to start a family with Sam, and those games have a lot of moments showcasing this side of him. I think what I love most about it is that 1. it’s cute as hell and 2. it completely contrasts with Max’s usual destructive self. Although, just like for Sam’s overprotectiveness, this is something we also get to see in the cartoon (and speaking of which I feel like we don’t talk enough about the giant robot episode and how quickly Max melts at the view of the giant baby. Also can we talk about Max calling himself “daddy” when hurting the kid and then calling himself “mommy” when acting like a parent ? No because if there’s any proof that Max has daddy issues, it’s this !)
So yeah, all this to say that the Telltale games are my favorite version of Sam and Max as characters.
And for those who expected me to talk about the voice-acting, honestly I don’t particularly have a favorite voice-actor for those characters. Each entry in the franchise has a few differences in how this duo is portrayed, and I feel like each voice-actor fits perfectly with each version they’re dubbing. So while I could say I’m more familiar with the Telltale/vr and the cartoon versions of the voices, it doesn’t mean that I find them better than the “Hit the Road” ones.
That being said, if I had to praise the Telltale voice actors, I would give huge kudos to Sam’s voice actor for the emotions he’s capable to bring into the character, especially in S3. As for Max, I really admire the fact that he had three voice actor and each new one managed to sound like the previous one, thus keeping Max’s voice consistent throughout the trilogy.
On that note, being someone who adores angst, I didn’t mention the whole “S3 is the angst seasons and there can be many repercussions from 305” because it has less to do with the characters and more to do with the story itself. Like don’t get me wrong, S3 absolutely tests the limits of Sam and Max, but “Sam and Max love each other more than anything else and would give anything for each other” is something we already knew.
So in my eyes, “S3 has a more angsty story and some character development” has less to do with “why I love this version of the characters” and more to do with “why I love the story of the Telltale trilogy and the fact that there’s continuity”.
Also, regarding the repercussions of 305 and how it can play onto the characters, it’s again not something the trilogy itself dwells in. Instead, it’s something the fandom itself likes to play with and interpret (and I absolutely adore that).
Oh yeah, and one last thing : obviously there are a lot more things about Sam and Max’s characters that I love. What I pointed out in this post are things that are exclusive or almost-exclusive to the Telltale games. Just pointing it out in case I didn't made it explicit enough at the beginning. 😅
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papirouge · 1 year
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That thing about adults watching toddlers cartoons you reblogged... I think it truly is a reflection of some people literally reggresing in some ways, and i don't blame the ones who just want an escape from their shitty lives. I feel some people simply are finding it difficult to accept the reality of adulthood and all the realizations that come with it. The lost of innocence and all, finding out the world is more harsh and cruel that expected... I don't know, i can understand in a way because sometimes ill watch cartoons from my childhood or play videogames from that time too... It's the nostalgia from better times. I think it happens to us that had more sheltered childhoods.... However, i do think its weird to seek out new cartoons from toddlers and somehow enjoy it. I don't get it. Perhaps cartoons fr older kids are really bad nowadays, i wouldnt know.
I do think its more understandable for people interested in animation since most western cartoons are geared towards kids, and adult cartoons are ugly as balls lets be honest. And they can be cringy as hell: once i was walking by my brother watching that Bojack horseman or whatever cartoon, and there was this character talking about asexuality and how you could be asexual and have romantic relationships and sex. Like, the cringe... Id rather watch bluey or stephan university lmao
Yeah I hate how Western animation has become.....so ugly. I mean the Power Puff Girls or Totally Spies had some edge but when I see today's animation it looks so ugly and disgusting (Family Guy, Big Mouth has to be the filthiest adult animated show I ever laid my eyes upon). And I also hate how adult shows have to be so unecessary sexual. It's like because, since they're for an adult audience, they now could tackle those topics, they had to shoe horn these unecessary awkward and disgusting storylines.... (and thinking you can be asexual while having sex is stupid yeah lol)
I think you are absolutely right about how watching these "comfort shows" can help coping with the hardship of reality, but look at the result : people are getting more and more (intellectually and emotionally) retarded. It's not normal for a 25+ adult of being invested in anime or manga where the characters are half of their own age....
Look how anime has groomed entire generations of men thinking that women enjoyed sexual harassment and rape, and that they didn't have real hobbies (beside looking out for male approval). I'll never be over how horrendously written 99% of female characters in manga are (the 1% left are written by female mangaka). There's no wonder men who grew up with that trash have a totally wrapped image of women, struggle respecting their boundaries (there's no wonder japanese men are known creep - especially with foreigners), how a REAL ADULT HUMAN FEMALE body look like (just the other day there was a kid on Twitter calling "disgusting" a woman who had.....body hair on her arm. His argument? "but IN PORN women don't look like that!!!".....😐).
I think those shows are ruining the way people are adulting. Western civilization look down on cultures that upkept a "ritual of passage" into adulthood, arguing it's unecessary and kinda hard on kids to have such a sharp leap into adulthood, but I think those cultures actually have a point. At some point adults need to cut out with regressive coping mechanism for their own well-being.
Again : grown adult watching debilitating shows is not normal. It makes them emotionally retarded and dumb. Just because something helps you to cope with shit doesn't mean it's harmless or good for you in the long run.
A grown 27 y.o woman unironically posting about her "comfort character" and that characters is somehow half her age is NOT normal. Grown men in the 30s watching anime and getting excited about the next One Piece chapter release like there's no tomorrow is NOT normal. Grown men watching anime altogether is a red flag anyway (and let's not talk about those gathering toys/collectibles which is HIGHLY symbolic psychologically-wise - babies/children are those needing toys, not adults...)
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adamwatchesmovies · 8 months
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Australiens (2014)
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While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...
Australiens walks into the room like it’s about to be your new step daddy but it couldn’t be more wrong. The creativity started and stopped with its title. The rest is all downhill. I can forgive the horrible special effects but the jokes are horrendous and the characters worse.
17 years after a close encounter with a flying saucer, Andi Gibson (Rita Artmann), her brother Elliot (Doug Hatch), and her bandmates Cam (Tamara McLaughlin), Keith (Lawrence Silver), and John (Joe Bauer) spot an alien ship. It’s a full-blown invasion focussed squarely on Australia. Convinced she’s the key to ending the conflict, Andi leads them on a mission to save the world.
I’ll get the special effects out of the way. At best, the aliens’ ship look passable. When they start firing beams and knocking over buildings, it isn’t convincing but you give this low-budget venture a pass. Then, you get to see who pilots those ships and any good faith you might’ve had vanishes. The creatures look so awful you expect them to start giving you directions to some run-down tourist trap or the college multimedia course. Still, you might dock Australiens some points but admit the movie is worth checking out if the writing was worth a damn, which it isn’t.
It takes about 2 minutes for Australiens to make a joke about Uranus. The first time, I'll give it a pass (partially because a child makes the joke) but a similar comedic affront comes around every 20 minutes or so. That’s the level of writing we’re talking about. It’s like the movie is telling you it’s going to be garbage right away with horrible performances and a wig so unconvincing you’re not sure if it’s purposely crap. You’ve run out of fingers to count down things the movie does wrong when it suddenly flashes forward to introduce us to the story's REAL protagonists. At least we're making our way towards the end credits. That's something, right?
Each of our heroes is either an annoying stereotype or irritating for another reason. Andi is obsessed with spacemen, which is understandable considering she saw one as a kid and is witnessing an invasion. Keep that in mind when I say she takes things too far. Even her bandmates are fed up with her talks of little green men. They’ve got bigger things to worry about because they collectively have less musical talent than a carrot. If your protagonist isn’t going to be competent or intelligent, they better be charismatic. Failing this, they better be funny. If not, you get someone like Andi.
The rest of our main characters fare no better. Elliot is one of these cartoon nerds that doesn’t exist in real life. You can predict every single one of his lines from the moment we see him puffing on his ashthma inhaler as a kid. I had given up on the film long before he started talking about a strange lump on his testicles. I hoped it wouldn’t get any worse, but it does. This Tasmania-obsessed script lasts a gargantuan hour and fifty-one minutes. In bad comedy time, that roughly translates to a thousand Earth years.
Once in a while, the movie will manage to catch you off-guard with an amusing gag. Does it redeem it in any way? No. The attempts at humor are so lazy it’s the kind of thing you’d see high schoolers come up with. Seeing it delivered by “professionals” fills you with a level of embarrassment that threatens to be fatal. I know you’re not supposed to take what happens in this story too seriously but there isn’t even any attempt to make the plot make sense and at several points it looks like it’s about to try and tie things together to make multi-layered gags… and then Australiens just gives up. You'll be in agony until its post-credit scene.
Australiens is the kind of movie that’s too pathetic to have a Wikipedia page. No one could enjoy it enough to take the time and effort necessary to write a synopsis worthy of the site. Everyone who hates it (so, everyone who wasn’t involved in its production) will be glad to put as much distance between them and this black hole of humour as humanly possible. (January 22, 2021)
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dodo-begone · 3 years
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Ugly Fuckling
Pairing: Yandere!Xisuma x Reader
Request: mmm for requests: some soft yandere shit with any character, maybe??
Word count: 3.9K
Warning: yandere, cursing, depression (?), Anxiety (?), angst (to comfort), dissociation
Part 2 for this is Now Listen Here Sad Bitches - Stop Being Sad
If this EVER looks funky/glitched (which it def is now) I have this up properly on Ao3.
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The shopping district made you uneasy. Life just seemed to course through the area. Even without anyone actually being there to give it the energy. It was cramped though; everything was practically on top of each other. Yet it gave such a homey feeling. Like everybody who made the buildings actually liked each other; they all were a representation of how everyone was different but still similar to a family. Standing in front of all of the shops made you feel intimidated. Small, insignificant, inadequate.
You start your journey through the district, looking and giving every build the attention it deserved. It was all in an attempt to imbed everything into your memory. After all, you wouldn’t be around for much longer. Someone like you, who was so alien to the server, shouldn’t just try and worm their way into such an amazing community like this. Especially when they have nothing to offer for said community.
You hadn’t realized where you were walking until you stood in front of Grian’s barge. It was so gorgeous and well made. Grian told you how it began as a small little boat build and progressively grew to the giant floating market it is today. The story was awe inspiring; like an ugly duckling, it grew into something majestic after starting at such humble beginnings. Yet it did little to lift your spirits now. Yeah the barge started as a simple build, but it was still beautiful in its tiny state. And Grian had the talent and skill to make ginormous and intricate builds. You had neither of those abilities.
You hadn’t realized where you were walking until you stood in front of Grian’s barge. It was so gorgeous and well made. Grian told you how it began as a small little boat build and progressively grew to the giant floating market it is today. The story was awe inspiring; like an ugly duckling, it grew into something majestic after starting at such humble beginnings. Yet it did little to lift your spirits now. Yeah the barge started as a simple build, but it was still beautiful in its tiny state. And Grian had the talent and skill to make ginormous and intricate builds. You had neither of those abilities.
You hadn’t realized where you were walking until you stood in front of Grian’s barge. It was so gorgeous and well made. Grian told you how it began as a small little boat build and progressively grew to the giant floating market it is today. The story was awe inspiring; like an ugly duckling, it grew into something majestic after starting at such humble beginnings. Yet it did little to lift your spirits now. Yeah the barge started as a simple build, but it was still beautiful in its tiny state. And Grian had the talent and skill to make ginormous and intricate builds. You had neither of those abilities.
Slowly you made your way closer to the barge. At the entrance there were numerous posters all bunched together on a post. All for the mayoral campaign. They were so cute, each having a unique look. Representing their mayors very well. But Scar’s. Oh Scar’s was just elite. It was a plain wooden sign; a small but even more unique technique when compared to the others. Nothing beat some good ole fashioned petitioning. You let out a small giggle at the sight of Scar’s sign next to the others. It seemed very out of place. Seemed like a solid representation of you with the hermits. And at the same time it reminded you so much of the Dream smp.
The Dream smp… your old home. Calling the dream smp home feels wrong; you barely felt safe there, but you knew that you were wanted there. Even if just a few actually cared about you, loved you. You fit in so much better there. Your horrendous builds could easily blend in with the others or better yet, stand out amongst the surrounding disasters to look semi-decent. Yes there were actual beautiful builds, just like any other server, but they were few and far between. Those builds were under constant threat of being griefed or destroyed, just like all of the others. Yet everybody seemed mostly okay with it. They would be upset when it would be destroyed, like any normal person would. But they only had two options when presented with the rubble; pick up the fragments and rebuild from the ground up or forever abandon what was once a masterpiece.
With the hermits, there was order there. The chaos was controlled, which was an odd concept to you. Chaos on the Dream smp ran rampant, destroying anything in its path. And there even seemed to be a “type” of person that was deemed a “hermit”. Thought it was hard to pick out something that everybody had in common. But you knew one thing; you didn’t fit the description of a hermit.
On the Dream smp, everything was always on the brink of destruction and very tense. Things could change on the flip of a dime. Nothing was guaranteed. And yet you still wanted to go back there. To feel wanted, important, enough, to be validated. To be so much more than you were with the hermits. With the hermits, you were only an imposter; everything they said to or about you was a lie. Had to be a lie. Why else would you be like this super kinda and incredible person? The person they were describing wasn't even you. It was a whole different person, how could they not see that?!
Leaning against the outerwall of the barge, you slowly slide to the ground. You start a panoramic view from your new position. It only made you feel worse; you felt detached from your body. Like you were watching a movie of you and your life from an outsider’s view. But you had control of your body and could still kinda see through your eyes, which made it feel even weirder. So more like you were walking through a movie that you weren’t made for; a real person wandering the domain of a cartoon show.
A shaky breath breaks it way through your lips. Trails of tears soon start to trickle down your face, slightly obscuring the view you had. Suddenly the world becomes too big yet too small. Much duller, less important. Everything became too much yet not enough all at the same time. Soon the feeling overwhelmed you so much that you broke down into a sobbing mess. The wanted to hide your face in your hands and knees hung over you like a tsunami wave, but you knew you shouldn’t. These were your last moments and views of the hermitcraft server. Even if you couldn’t see clearly anymore. Any view was better than no view. You tried to muffle your cries; do anything to stay silent and unseen. Nobody really wanted to deal with a crying person. They just felt obligated to.
God you were such a burden on all of the hermits. You could barely support yourself with your shitty little farm. Barely any food was produced. And the hermits kept giving you stuff: ores, food, weapons, armour, just about anything you could think of. Golden carrots, golden apples, elytras, diamonds and netherite were the gifts that made you feel the worst. These were such wonderful, valuable, and useful items. Nobody would give them out for free, even to a friend. Especially as often as they did.
So you’d set out on a journey to figure out who’d gifted you stuff and return it immediately. First you just left them in a chest with a book or sign explaining that you didn’t want to accept their gift. It felt wrong that they were giving them such nice stuff. They’d always bring it back to you though. It burned your heart. Both from how sweet the gesture was and the physical pain you felt taking it from them. After a few cycles of this, people started to stop telling you who gave you that new item of yours. Even when you begged them for answers.
You had to turn to more drastic measures. Every gift you got was soon carefully investigated for any sign of who could’ve given it to you. There wasn't a way to easily get an answer from the other hermits. They had gotten suspicious of your past tactics, so you had to change your approach.
So you went with the closest guess. Even if they weren’t the one to give it to you, you’d give it to them. When the “gifter” left their base, you’d swiftly sneak in and start to put the items back in their storage. Many of them had chest monsters, so it was easier to put the items in their chests. After all, they wouldn’t really notice more items in the giant mess of items they already had. Then there were the ones with organized sorting systems. You’d search for their proper homes and place them in there. Since these people usually had big storage facilities, it wouldn't be hard to hide a few other items in there. What were the odds that they’d notice that they had a little more of an item than they last remember?
Aw who were you kidding, they’d obviously notice a whole inventory’s worth of golden carrots in their chests. But you deluded yourself into believing that your attempts worked. Believing a beautiful life was much easier and felt better than facing the less-than enjoyable truth.
When you finally calmed down enough, you went over your mental plan again. It had to be absolutely perfect. With no flaws or kinks. This couldn’t fail. Every attempt before had ended in fucking failure. You’d look so bad to the hermits if you failed in leaving again. Why did you still care about what they thought of you? That’s such a silly thing to still care about.
Each plan before had one step that’d always thwarted your leave; you always said goodbye to somebody. At first it started with a big group of hermits, but with each attempt the group got smaller and smaller.
When you’d go to say your goodbyes, the hermit you were talking to would get upset. They’d begged you to stay. Or they’d ask you to help them on this one last project. And then another hermit would ask, and then another. Until you were helping a hermit as soon as you finished a project. You were almost never alone for a while. Slowly the thought of leaving would be pushed further and further back into your mind. Until it was practically gone; only echoes of it would remain to haunt you at night. This was a continuous cycle, and you wanted it to end.
This time you weren’t going to get stopped. Having fewer people in the plan makes it easier to leave. That meant nobody was going to get an in-person goodbye. Everybody had an individual letter addressed to them from you and one for the entire server. It was better this way. They wouldn’t have the chance to stop you.
You don’t know how much time passed, nor did you really care. God you wanted to stay here so bad, yet you couldn’t. This wasn’t where you belonged. You weren’t meant to be here.
With a heavy sign, you hauled yourself off the ground and made your way to the edge of the server. Every moment was precious now, so you decided to dawdle as much as you could. Nobody was going to stop you, so you had time. After all, nobody was going to be finding the letters anytime soon.
To savor every last second on the server, you traversed by boat and foot. Yes you’d miss the elytras, but you wanted to travel the old fashioned way. The way you were used to doing it. Elytras weren’t on the Dream smp, so you needed to start getting used to not having them again.
It felt like seconds before you were at the edge. A few blinks and bam! You were at your final destination on the Hermitcraft server. It was now or never. All you had to do was take a few steps over and you would be back on the Dream smp. Yet your feet refused to move. Why weren’t they moving? This was for the greater good. Yes you wouldn’t be happy there immediately, but you’d grow used to it again.
You started to take deep breaths, trying to hype yourself up to take the final steps. It was like three steps, come on. You can do it. The trip here was longer and harder than this. Don’t let something this small ruins all the work you’ve done. God it was like you were like a walking failure. You couldn’t even finish something you started, something you wanted done. A small part of you whispered, begged you to say with the hermits. But it was soon covered by a much louder part of the mind, telling you that this was the best thing you could do for everyone. Come on, they wouldn’t miss you at all. With one final breath, you took a step forward.
“What’re you doing?” a voice seemed to yell. God it was so quiet. Why was it so quiet? Literally any noise was too loud now.
You stopped. Oh no, did you take too long getting here? Man you really should’ve used that elytra instead. Would’ve made this trip so much easier and faster.
Slowly you turn around to see who interrupted you. And low and behold, it’s Xisuma. He was a little ways away from you, which you were thankful for. It was surprising to see him so far away from the server though. Did he find the notes. Shit, fuck, no no no-. You really hope he hadn’t found them.
“I’m just looking around” a nervous shell of your voice answers. It sounded so empty, like the wind could easily blow it away with just a single gentle gust. You desperately look over where Xisuma’s face would be in hopes of finding out what he was feeling or thinking. That mask of his blocked it, so it was futile. But you had to know what he thought about you now. Was he disappointed? Did he hate you? Especially for how you tried to leave?
“This far out,” he spreads his arms out, gesturing to the world around y’all. It was practically deserted. There was only an island, and you two were standing on it. Ocean covered the world to the horizon. Logically you knew you had no reason to be out here other than to leave. You knew Xisuma knew as well. He had to. He was the admin, after all.
“Uh,” you frantically look around, hoping to find anything to help you get out of this tense situation. You hated this. Hated confrontation. This was a reason you left the Dream smp. “Yeah I wanted a good sight for the uh- for the sunset. Yes, the sunset! It’s so pretty when you’re so far from the mainland. Away from all the buildings that could obstruct the view.”
It took a second for your words to finally hit you, and when they did it felt like a slap to the face. “I’m not saying the builds are bad,” you desperately backpedal, trying to change the possible interpretation of your words. “I mean they’re very big. Big and pretty! Yes, very pretty! But they block the skyline so easily and the sunset and sunrise are just hidden by them. And sometimes the light pollution really gets in the way of stargazing- I’m rambling aren’t I? I’m sorry.”
You stared at Xisuma, wishing for him to give you any sign as to what he was thinking. But the black visor thwarted you attempts again; his face was unviewable with his helmet on.
Wait how could you have been so self absorbed to not notice what Xisuma is wearing. He adorned a little bee/wasp (you had a hard time telling the difference at the moment) themed outfit. It was like a whole bodysuit. And he had a little bee/wasp helmet too! Oh my gosh it was the little bee outfit he owned! The one you really liked! He was actually wearing it? The outfit you said looked really good on him? No, wait. He might just like it as well. That’s probably why he’s wearing it. Stupid, remember you’re not special. Especially to anyone. Why can’t you get that through your thick brain?
Xisuma must have seen the emotional trip you just went on. It must’ve been obvious, right? Written all over your face?
“You’re not wrong,” Xisuma starts. “The builds can be rather disruptive of a good view of the sunset or sunrise. But if you wanted a good viewing spot, you could’ve just asked me. I wouldn’t have minded showing you one.”
“That would’ve been such a stupid thing to ask,” you sniffle, barely having the strength to look him in the eyes. Well, where his eyes should be. “Going up to an admin and saying ‘I can’t see the sunrise or sunset well. Can you show me a good viewing spot’ isn’t exactly something you ask an admin. Usually it’s something along the lines of ‘hey this player took my stuff’ or ‘I’m stuck in a hole and need help.’”
Silence smothers the two of you. Your words were heavy. Made your mouth dry too. Wow is it hot out or just you? It’s really fucking hot out here.
“Again,” Xisuma breaks the silence,” I wouldn’t have minded at all. I’m here for you. For the hermits. And I’m here to help. Why do you think my help wouldn’t extend to you?”
You ponder over his question. Now that he states it like that, how can you just make up a stupid excuse? The care he showed in his explanation made you feel warm and fuzzy. Even if it wasn’t a lot. It made you feel special. Just for that moment. He doesn’t deserve a sucky lie. He deserved the truth. You owed it to him. Then you’ll stop being a bother to him and leave. Right… leave.
“Because I’m not a hermit, Xisuma,” you murmur, hugging yourself for comfort. “I don’t think I ever was. Or ever will be, for that matter.”
“And why not,” Xisuma prods, taking a step towards you. “You are a hermit. You’re on the hermit server and you have been for quite a while now. Everyone loves you. They love you so much. I love you so much.”
That question hurts you. It hurts you so much and yet you have no reason for it to hurt you this much. The statement was false and you knew it. So it shouldn’t hold this much power over you. He’s wrong and you know it. But how do you break it to him?
Yeah, break the news to him. The only thing breaking is you. Xisuma’s mask, which you had once adored, scared you. Intimidated you and made you feel inadequate. The more you looked, the worse you felt.
And so you give in. “Because I’m not one of you. I’d never be one of you. No matter what I did, it’d never amount to what everyone else can do! Grian can make magnificent builds, Scar can landscape like a god, and Mumbo can make literally anything and everything out of redstone. Everybody has something that they’re good at, something they specialize in. And me,” your voice cracks. You drop to the ground on your knees, curling into yourself. “I can’t do anything. I can’t build, can’t farm and I can’t even do simple redstone. I’m a literal dunce. I’ll never be able to do anything right. I’ll never be enough, especially on a server like this with so many incredible people like you. And everyone is so nice. I don’t deserve this kindness. I’m a horrible person. And-and I just don’t belong here. It’d be better if a burden like me is gone, out of your hair. It’d be better if I went back to the Dream smp. Where I can’t be a burden to anybody here.” You finally break down. Sobs shook your body and any words that came out after that were unintelligible.
Suddenly there’s a presence near you, giving you a hug. You flinch, but know it’s Xisuma. Who else could it be? He was the only one here with you. He lets go of you slowly, but you quickly latch onto him and hide in the crook of his neck. You really wanted some comfort. You wanted Xisuma’s hugs. You didn’t want to be left alone.
He goes back to gently holding you, quietly telling you that everything was going to be okay. And other things. Everything just went in one ear and out the other. But he’s giving you soft and steady backrubs. You snuggle closer to him. God this was like a whole comfort package! It just made you want to cry harder. And he just stays there! Letting you cry on him. He’s so nice to little ole you.
Soon you tuckered yourself out from crying. You’re so tired, but you’re still crying. Sadness just courses through you. But you’re so tired. Slowly your sobs turn to sniffle and you try to bring him even closer to you.
“Feel any better,” he tries his best to look at you after your sniffles are all that’re coming out of you. It’s really hard to look at someone so close to you.
You nod against him, too tired to answer verbally. Plus your voice probably sounds terrible and wouldn’t be able to handle answering anyways.
He picks you up, holding you close to him and walks away from the border. You’re so thankful that Xisuma is carrying you. It makes you feel so loved. And your body was so weak after your breakdown.
Soon you two are on a boat, heading back to the rest of the hermits. He’s rowing y’all home. You cuddle into him, wanting as much physical contact as you can get. You’re so tired, but you don’t want to sleep just yet. But you still doze off anyways. As you do though, Xisuma starts to talk to you.
“Thank you for staying with us. With me. I really appreciate that. I love you, remember that. I’ll tell you that a million times if I have to. I’d tell you daily, hourly. Whatever you want. Just don’t leave, please. I love you so much. It’d hurt if you left. If I lost you. But it also hurts to see you in so much pain. Oh I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you sooner. I should've seen the signs. But I’m here. I’ll help you. I love you so much. I’ll stay with you as long as you’re with me. I’d follow you to the end and back.”
You can’t exactly hear what he’s saying, but it must be really nice. The tone of it is so comforting. Wait hold up. Weren’t you doing something. Struggling to stay awake, you mind scrambles for an answer. The border. Yes, the border! You were there. But for what? You couldn’t remember anymore. But was it important if you forgot? Oh who cares, you got Xisuma with you! You were home! That’s all that mattered.
As you finally start to drift off, you mutter an ‘i love you’ to him, finally falling into a well deserved slumber.
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cassarilladraws · 2 years
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I’ve seen so many people talking about the possible revelations in Miraculous from Ephemeral and saying “but it can't go TOO dark this is a 'kids show' right?"  I wish I could go with that but I can't. The last two "kid shows" I watched had terrible, sad, depressing and outright bad endings. I hate sad endings. I prefer happy endings and can like bittersweet ones, if done well. (HTTYD had a bittersweet ending that was satisfying to me.) The last two "kids shows" I'm referring to are Voltron and Tales of Arcadia. Seriously horrendous ways to end things. These shows have something in common with Miraculous. They attracted audiences that are older than the original intended audience. In some cases, this realization causes the writers to move in a darker direction and add more complex storylines. More depth in a show is a good thing, but sometimes the “dark” part gets taken way too far. With Voltron (spoilers ahead) they decided it was okay to dive into a lot of angst and dark storylines, which is fine... but they ENDED that way too. They ended with bad writing, a convoluted plot that made no sense, a major character dying, and the characters that survived were given horrible to mediocre endings. Then because of the mixed audience you’ve got older fans unsatisfied and rightfully upset and then the kids that DID watch the show wondering why their favorite character had to die? Or why their favorite character is so sad at the end. (I read posts from parents who were fans who had try to come up with a good explanation for their children. Because the show gave no good reason for Allura’s death. It shouldn’t have happened and made no sense. That’s ridiculous.) My sister was pregnant while I was really into Voltron and she was having a little girl! While watching I was excited to one day try and watch the show with my niece. I even suggested the name Allura for her name. Needless to say, if I can help it my niece will never know a thing about Voltron. Frankly, I like and prefer shows that are “for kids” but really have a mixed audience. The widespread appeal is fun and awesome.  You get older fans discussing in depth theories, noticing the references kids miss, writing fanfiction, making fanart and making complex cosplays. You also see cute kids looking so adorable in their little Halloween costumes and happily playing with the toys. It’s wonderful! I’ve always been more attached to cartoon characters in those types of shows. When it’s live action or cartoons for “adults” I rarely get attached or truly let myself care too much. I’m like well, they could all die, the actor that plays whoever could want to move on. And the writing can sometimes double down on being dark, edgy, “adult”, and angsty that it often becomes one note and boring. Like people are dying all over the place and everyone’s upset with everybody and there’s all this drama but it’s somehow boring because it’s all the same old thing. Honestly, I have a hard time taking it seriously when shows take themselves too seriously and find myself laughing at things that are meant to be sad or impactful. I want to go on a rollercoaster of emotions with characters and know in the end it’s going to be alright. Cartoons in general are just better at balancing angst and humor and everything else. (I do want to give a nod to Marvel movies as I feel they actually do a good job of this often.) This isn’t to say characters can’t die in these cartoons with such broad audiences, but the main characters shouldn’t--at least not permanently. Shows with this type of audience should feel like something you want to revisit later. Like something the kids watching now want to watch with their kids/nieces/nephews later if they have them. Shows like this have the potential to be long lasting nostalgic and comforting things in the lives of their viewers. It might sound silly but I wish shows and movies had tags like fanfics do. I like angst, actually, but it needs to be "angst with a happy ending." Sad endings are just stupid to me, especially on long running things. (There are obvious examples of this being okay. Movies/shows/books that start out telling you the main character dies and it’s the story of how that happened, shows that are very obviously sad or things based on true events that are tragic. In those cases you know what you are getting into. In a way it’s like the fanfic tags.) But unexpected sad endings just really feel like some writer is out there trying to be edgy. "Thanks for watching/reading for all these years I leave you with pain and regret for ever getting into it!" idk about you but when things end like that I don't want to rewatch/reread and I want to get rid of any merchandise I have relating to it. On the flip side, when things end well I want to continue buying things years later! I want to tell my friends to watch/read it too! I want to proudly wear t-shirts of the thing to see if I can find other fans to talk about it with! Because it’s still fun! It’s still exciting! I still love it! tl:dr Happy endings are good and you’re not being edgy by making your ending sad, you’re just being a jerk to your audience. Especially, if your audience includes kids. This may all be a moot point for Miraculous. Because honestly, Chat Noir and Ladybug give me iconic comic book character vibes. Which means these characters will go through a million iterations and have times with great writing and not so great but be around for decades we may not ever truly see an “ending” and I really want that for Ladybug and Chat Noir so go off if that’s what’s in the future. 
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Text
Back To Normal
Word Count: 2,154
Characters: Dean Winchester, John Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby SInger (brief), Reader
Pairings: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader
Warnings: angst, small fluff, mentions of past abuse
A/N: idek what to say but hi i guess
A/N 2: Reader is like 2 years older than Dean
Masterlist
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You walked to your parents’ room in the middle of the night, the house dark. It was probably around 2 but that didn't stop you from going to your dad, tugging on his arm.
“(Y/N)? What are you doing up, kiddo?” he asked softly, frowning as he turned the light on.
“What’s going on?” Mary sat up, looking at you cautiously.
“I had a bad dream, daddy. Can I sleep with you?” you wiped your eyes, yawning slightly as you continued to hold onto John’s hand.
“Of course you can, come on, let’s go to bed,” he lifted you up, wrapping his arms around you in a protective manner as he turned the lights off.
You continued holding onto his arm, falling asleep.
---
You shot up, hearing someone yelling as you quickly got out of bed, running to Dean.
“Dean, wake up!” you shook him slightly, as he looked at you, confused.
“Daddy’s yelling!” you said, holding his hand as the two of you ran out of your shared room, seeing a bright light coming out of Sam’s nursery.
“Daddy? What’s wrong?” you walked into the room, screaming as you saw the horrendous sight, your mother somehow pinned to the ceiling, blood dripping out of her stomach as the ceiling around her caught on fire.
“(Y/N)! (Y/N), take Sam and Dean out! Now!” he placed your six-month-old brother in your hand, as you held onto him tightly, holding Dean’s hand with your free hand.
You ran out of the house, watching flames coming out of the window.
“It’s gonna be okay, De,” you said softly.
You felt John’s arms wrap around the three of you, pulling you away to safety, watching your house envelop in flames.
---
“Again, (Y/N),” John handed you the gun, as you scratched your arm nervously, before picking it up.
You unloaded, then reloaded the gun, turning the safety off, then back on.
“38 seconds. You need to do it in under 15,” you nodded your head softly, listening to John.
“Yes, sir,” you replied, your voice low.
“I’m going to go out. Watch Sam and Dean,” before you could reply, he grabbed his jacket, slamming the door shut as you flinched slightly, before resting your head on your hands.
---
“Dean, can you help me out here?” you asked, rubbing your head.
“Sam doesn't listen to me either,” he shrugged. He flipped on the TV, watching some sort of cartoon as you groaned, turning back to Sam.
“Sam, you have to do your homework and you have to eat your dinner. Now,” you tried not to raise your voice, clearly annoyed by both of them.
“No, I don’t want to. I wanna watch TV with Dean,” he crossed his arms, frowning.
“After you do all your work,” you sighed.
“How come Dean doesn't have to do his work? Or eat his dinner?” Sam crossed his arms as you clenched your jaw, digging your nails into your palm.
I hate them both
“Dean already finished all his work! Sam, I’m serious!” you groaned.
Every day seemed to go like this. One or both of them would choose not to listen to you, getting you more irritated and stressed. You still had a huge amount of homework to do, half of which you could barely understand, and instead of doing it, you were trying to get Sam to listen. As usual.
“Dean didn’t do his homework!” Sam screamed as you winced, his shouting giving you a headache.
“He’s lying! I did it!” Dean shot up, pointing his finger at Sam.
Before you could say anything, both brothers started screaming at each other, leaving you with a headache.
“Enough!” you turned off the TV, pulling Dean to the table. 
“Both of you shut up and do your homework! Now!” you yelled.
Sam sniffled, immediately looking down.
Great, now he’s crying
“Dude, you made him cry,” Dean looked up at you.
“Shut up, Dean. Do your work,” you rolled your eyes, before turning to Sam.
“You’re mean,” Sam said, his voice low.
“And you're a brat. Here’s a pencil,” you handed it to him, watching as the two of them tended to their homework. 
---
“Dad,” you started softly.
He simply glared at you, before looking back at the road.
The two of you rode back to the hotel, where Sam and Dean were.
“Dad, I’m sorry,” you started.
“Shut up, (Y/N),” he snapped.
He left for a hunt, again. Leaving you with Sam and Dean, again. Leaving you with barely enough money to feed one of you, let alone three. You saw your only option was to steal. You didn't like it but you had no choice. Sam began to come down with a fever, and he needed medicine.
“You didn't leave us with… Sam was sick,” your voice broke as your heart began to race out of fear for what was going to happen to you.
“He’s fine now,” you looked at John nervously before running your fingers through your hair.
The rest of the ride remained silent, before approaching the hotel room. It was empty.
You turned to John, your eyes widening as you contained your panic.
You weren't allowed to be weak in front of John.
“They’re at Bobby’s. You’re with me for the week,” he threw his bag onto the floor as you flinched, trying your hardest to maintain this weekend.
You already knew that the worst was yet to come.
---
“Hey, are you okay?” your head shot up, as you opened your eyes, looking at Dean.
“No, I mean, yeah, I’m fine, sorry,” you shook your head, smiling softly at your younger brother.
“Sam’s passed out. Do you wanna watch a movie or something?” he asked, sitting next to you on the floor.
Dean graduated high school, spending more and more time with you and John, seeing what John does to you. You prayed that he wouldn't witness any of it but lately, none of your prayers seemed to help anything. You currently sat there with a black eye, saying it was from a hunt, but Dean knew otherwise.
“No, it’s fine,” you sighed, keeping your voice down.
The two of you sat in the dark, as Dean rested his head on your shoulder.
“I’m sorry for being such a bitch when I was younger,” he said softly.
“Oh, don't be. If it makes you feel any better, Sam was worse,” you laughed softly.
“I can't believe you dealt with us,” he shook his head.
“Well, why wouldn't I? You’re still my brother. Come on, you should get to bed,” you said.
“Are you going to sleep?” he asked.
“No, I need to watch over you guys,” you shook your head.
“That’s ridiculous. I’m not going to sleep till you do,” he crossed his arms.
“Well then, looks like you’re not getting any sleep tonight,” you turned, looking at him.
“Then so be it,” he continued to rest his head on your arm, as you scoffed before you continued to stare at the door.
You could feel Dean falling asleep, hearing him snoring. You pressed your lips against his forehead, stroking his hand softly.
---
“Oh my god!” you shot up in the bed, clenching your jaw as you held in your screams, feeling pain emit throughout your body.
“(Y/N)!” Sam and Dean ran to you, as you winced before they backed away.
“What happened?” you whispered.
Your arm was wrapped up in bandages, a sling on your shoulder. Your forehead was covered in bandages, scratches all over your body.
“What do you remember?” Dean asked.
You looked up at them, seeing tears in their eyes. 
“The demon… yellow eyes… where’s Dad?” you asked softly.
“He sold his soul for Dean,” Sam whispered a reply.
Your eyes watered as you felt a shiver over your body.
You sniffled, wiping your tears as you looked at Dean.
“I-It’s gonna be okay,” you said softly, wrapping your arm around Sam and Dean.
“It's gonna be okay.”
---
“(Y/N), it’s 3 AM,” Bobby walked into his study room, sitting down in front of you.
The three of you finished a hunt nearby, crashing at Bobby’s for the night.
He offered you a beer, as you took it from him.
“Do you have anything to say, kid?” he asked you.
“No, I want to sit here and drink this beer in silence, please,” you sighed.
“What is it with you Winchesters never showing any damn emotion?” he raised his voice slightly as you sighed.
You ran your fingers through your hair, resting your arm on the table.
“Why won’t you go to bed?” he asked.
“Bye, Bobby,” you pushed out of your seat, grabbing your jacket.
“The hell do you think you're doing, young lady?” he immediately crossed his arms, standing in front of the door.
“I’m going out. I’ll see you in the morning,” you walked past him, leaving his house.
---
You sat in the driver’s seat, hearing Dean yelling at you.
“I don’t…” you hiccupped.
“I don’t know why you’re so mad,” you shrugged, laying back in the seat.
“You’re not driving, you’re drunk. Scoot over,” Dean crossed his arms.
“I’m not drunk, you’re drunk. And bossy,” you laughed, nearly falling off your seat as Dean forcibly pushed out over, sitting in the driver’s seat.
“It’s been a month of this crap. When was the last time you even slept?” Dean asked.
“I don’t like to sleep,” you looked out the window, watching all the trees passing by.
Something about the trees seemed to mesmerize you, as you yawned, blinking your eyes.
“Why don’t you like to sleep?” Dean asked.
Within 20 seconds, you fell onto Dean as he groaned, looking at you completely passed out.
“(Y/N),” Dean said, pushing you off of him.
“(Y/N),” he repeated. 
Your head fell against the window, as Dean listened to your breathing, making sure you didn't just die on him.
It had been a month of that. Ever since John died, you barely slept, spending all your time on either hunts or in a stranger’s bed, completely drunk.
Dean followed you, stopping whatever person was hitting on you and took your joke, slightly disappointed, slightly feeling pity for you.
Something happened to make you like this, and all he wanted was you back to normal.
His face softened, looking at your shaking figure. He took his jacket off, laying it on you before continuing to look forward at the road.
---
“We need to talk,” Dean sat at the edge of your bed, as you sat up, rubbing your head.
He handed you a glass of water and some aspirin. You silently thanked him, before clearing your throat.
“What's the problem?” you asked.
“You,” he replied.
“Excuse me?” you raised an eyebrow.
“One month. Since Dad died. Since you changed completely. You go out every night when we’re not hunting, don’t try to lie to me and tell me that you’re getting sleep because I know damn well that you’re not. We’re worried about you and we want our sister. We lost Dad, we don’t want to lose you too,” your eyes watered slightly as you looked at Dean.
You knew he was right. You felt shame immediately, knowing that John was looking at you, disappointed. From above or below. You weren't even taking care of Sam and Dean.
“I’m sorry,” you replied.
“I don’t want an apology. I want you back to normal,” you ran your fingers through your hair, blinking back your tears as you sniffled.
Just tell him, it’ll have to come out sooner or later 
“I’ve just been… I’ve been having nightmares about Dad,” you sniffled.
His face softened, as he scooted closer to you.
“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked softly.
“It’s not your problem to worry about,” you rested your head on your lap.
“Not my problem? (Y/N),” he started.
“You don’t understand, Dean. Please, just go,” you closed your eyes, feeling a tear streaming down your cheek.
He wrapped his arms around you tightly, as you held him.
“Dad’s gone. H-He’s dead. He can’t hurt you anymore, you don’t have to keep putting up a shield and blocking out everyone and everything,” you held back your cries as you buried yourself into Dean’s arms.
“I know,” you whispered.
“He can’t do anything to you ever again,” Dean’s voice was shaky, you could feel his tears.
“I’m sorry, Dean,” you cried softly.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I-I’m sorry I wasn't here for you sooner,” you stroked his cheek softly, sniffling as you smiled at him softly.
“I love you, kiddo,” you said.
“I love you too, (Y/N/N),” he replied, laying down next to you.
“Sam’s out doing nerdy stuff with Bobby. What do you say to a movie or two?” he looked up at you.
“Yeah, sure,” you stroked his hair softly, turning the TV on.
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Psycho Analysis: Buck Cluck
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(Usually I’d say “WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!” here, but we’re talking about a character from Chicken Little. If you care about spoilers for that movie, I gotta question your sanity.)
Gendo Ikari. Shou Tucker. Goku. Anime is filled to the brim with the most heinous, evil, deadbeat dads imaginable. But standing tall above them all is one dad, a dad from an American anime (anime means cartoon, you nerds): Buck Cluck. You’re seeing this right. This ain’t no April Fools joke either; I take Chicken Little absolutely seriously.
Buck Cluck is one of the most infamous fathers in all of animated history. He is basically Disney’s take on Huey Emmerich. If something in the world goes wrong, it’s probably Buck Cluck’s fault. The thing is, though… none of this was intentional. None of it. Buck Cluck is amazing because he is supposed to be a good father, albeit one who is emotionally distant from his son. But the movie bungles this all so badly that Buck Cluck ended up as one of the most disgusting fathers ever put to film by complete accident.
Motivation/Goals: Buck’s only goal in the film is to try and feel some sense of pride in his son. His nerdy, ostracized son. He refuses to love this kid until its convenient and turns his back on him at the drop of a hat. Really, you can sum up Buck’s motivation by asking yourself in any given scene “What is the exact opposite of what a decent parent would do?” Buck always chooses to do the opposite.
Performance: Of all the people on Earth who could have played Buck, they got Gary Marshall, director of The Princess Diaries movies, Pretty Woman, and Overboard to play Buck. And he’s not bad by any means, but boy, what a weird choice. I think he actually does give this charm to Buck, and by that I mean he makes him sound like a charming, affable guy despite being a disgusting deadbeat. If it was someone worse or more sinister, I think that the film would have ended up too self-aware. Buck has to sound like a chummy dude you’d get a beer with or else he can’t fail as utterly as he does.
Final Fate: For some reason, his son forgives him and they reconcile. Personally, I would have rather seen Colonel Sanders come in and roast this fat bastard alive.
Final Thoughts & Score: Before you get excited, no, I’m not giving him a ranking, because by the technicalities of the film he is in fact not a villain. But this, ultimately, is what makes Buck Cluck so fascinating to me.
This is a character who, throughout the film’s runtime, acts horrendously neglectful to his child, only paying him any mind when Chicken Little is succeeding and getting positive attention. He throws his son under the bus at every opportunity and seems outright ashamed by him, never really bothering to stand up for him until the very end when he has been soundly proven wrong about the sky falling and the aliens. He comes off as extremely self-serving and egotistical, only giving his son love when he can reap some sort of benefit. And it’s pretty obvious Disney wasn’t expecting him to come off this way. They give him moments where the film is desperately trying to get you to understand him, but it’s so utterly bungled that you can’t really view Buck as anything other than a cruel, emotionally abusive father.
A good contrast to Buck is Perry Babcock from ParaNorman. Both serve similar roles in the plot, being somewhat neglectful dads who need to learn a lesson about appreciating and accepting their son. The major difference is that, while Perry is just as much of a jackass as Buck (to the point where his mother’s ghost describes him as such), the narrative paints a very complex view of Perry that leaves him sympathetic enough that the ultimate resolution of the plot and his reconnection with his sonf eels genuine, earned, and heartwarming. Buck, on the other hand, never really does anything to earn the forgiveness he gets, and is never really called out by the narrative. He’s made to look like a poor victim of his son’s rambling nonsense about the sky falling. We’re supposed to want to see Chicken Little earn the love and respect of his parent, and since the world they inhabit is a world of jackasses, there’s no one to call Buck out.
The end result of everything is that Buck Cluck elicits the same seething, visceral hatred of a character like Shou Tucker or Huey Emmerich while having done nothing as grandly evil as either. The reason, I think, is that he is just too down to earth and relatable. Shou Tucker fused his daughter with a dog; that is evil, but can’t happen in real life. Buck Cluck emotionally abused his son, only gave him love when it was convenient, and treated him like an embarrassment while never standing up for him. Some of you out there have a Buck Cluck for a dad, and that’s just not pleasant to watch. And unlike with Huey, you can’t really love t hate Buck because there’s no cathartic release, there’s no punishment for his actions. Buck gets away, getting a good relationship with his son and love he doesn’t deserve.
...You know what, fuck it. Buck is so goddamn evil and disgusting, he’s getting a (dis)honorary 8/10. Buck fails so hard at being a good parent or even a flawed shades-of-gray parent that he ends up coming across as abusive and evil. I cannot comprehend how bad a character has to fail where they end up like this, or I should say, I shouldn’t be able to comprehend it… But I live in a world where Buck “The Cuck” Cluck exists. God help us all.
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ben-the-hyena · 2 years
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Ship that makes you sad: 💔
Ship that you find disgusting: 💩
Ship that is canon but you don’t ship: 💤
Ship that is unpopular but you still like: 💘
Ship you’re curious about: 👀
Ship that needs more love: 💖
Ship that is most misunderstood: 💢
Ship that you didn’t expect to ship but now do: 💓
Oh boy asks galore !
No matter guys, since I have tons of OTPs and NOTPS I just will pick one for each time an ask is asked so feel free to ask again questions she asked me so that I can tell more !
Ship that makes you sad: 💔
SkekZok X SkekVar. Because in canon not only it's not canon (ARGH) but also SkekVar is not into SkekZok so in my HC SkekZok is friendzoned but pretends to be alright when he is not and his death makes him even colder, and even in the Natives AU @dracocheesecake and I have where SkekVar was with him from the start SkekVar still does so SkekZok ends up a gireving widow becoming colder anyway. Yes we were evil on that one about poor SkekZok lol
Ship that you find disgusting: 💩
I used to really really ship Ren and Stimpy but not only did John K being a jerk to a friend disgusted me from the franchise, Adult Party Cartoon had Ren be absolutely abusive (he always was, but a cartoony way, he still cared, here he doesn't anymore) and cheating sticking with him just because he couldn't had better. The show is disgusting, so was the relationship. Since then seeing that ship keeps reminding me of that horrendous adult show even if it's not the old show's fault. Someday I will like it again maybe...
Ship that is canon but you don’t ship: 💤
I know Red and Silver get together in the end of Angry Birds 2 but... holy shit is it forced. Not chemistry at all, just to feel the "hero and heroine have to be together" quotat. I personally headcanon they will realize they jumped to conclusions over their mutual infatuition and politely break up and stay friends
Ship that is unpopular but you still like: 💘
We are not very numerous to ship Dick Dastardly and Pandora Pitstop from the Wacky Races reboot, that reboot not being very famous and Pandora appearing only in it not being very known (oh the irony) and thus Dick is often shipped with other characters, but oh my GOD do they fit, they are perfect for each other a cartoon villain way
Ship you’re curious about: 👀
I did NOT watch Luca yet (SORRY I AM OLD SCHOOL I WANT TO FIND THE DVD FIRST), but the idea of an older Giulia and an older Ercole now both adults where just 4 or 5 years of difference don't matter anymore and him having toned down in terms of jerkassry starting to get feelings interesting. Not sure yet, especially since I didn't watch the characters in action yet myself, but this kind of youth enemies to adulthood lovers dynamic is often a funny life irony to me. Also I am very tempted whenever I see people raging over this ship and calling everyone pedos for agining up fictional characters and inventing future scenarios just because I am petty
Ship that needs more love: 💖
Madame Pandora and the Captain of the Dead from Petit Vampire. LITERALLY they are like Gomez and Morticia, but even more relatable and realistic since they can have fights and conflict yet they still adore each other and are usually mushy. I adore them and they need more content
Ship that is most misunderstood: 💢
HHHH YOU KNOW THESE MESSY SONIC ARCHIE COMICS ? I WAS OBSESSED WITH THEM AS A KID. AND IN THE MOBIUS 25 YEARS LATER SERIES WE SEE VECTOR THE CROCODILE HAS A SON NAMED ARGYLE BUT WE NEVER SEE THE MOM. BUUUUT DON'T YOU GUYS REMEMBER THAT SWAN GIRL WHO WAS THE ONLY GIRL INTERESTED IN HIM IN AN ISSUE AND THEY END UP GOING ONNA DANCE DATE ? I ALWAYS HEADCANONNED SHE WAS ARGYLE'S MOTHER THEN, BUT NOBODY SEEMS TO AGREE. COME OOON SHE LOOKS SO REGAL AND CALM YET SEDUCTIVE AND OPEN MINDED, A GOOD COMPLEMENTARY CONTRAST TO VECTOR WHO IN THESE EARLY COMICS WAS OVERLY TRYING TO LOOK LIKE A COOL BAD BOY WHEN HE ACTUALLY FELT LIKE A LOSER, THEY WOULD HAVE SUCH A FUN DYNAMIC (all caps because it's the first time I ever talk about this one here lol)
Ship that you didn’t expect to ship but now do: 💓
If I was ever told I would come up with Edwin the Sandman and Dji from A Kind of Magic together I would laughed and shake my head while laughing and saying no no no. BUT THEN I CAME UP WITH THIS AS A JOKE AND NOW I CAN'T HELO BUT SEE THE COMEDY BUT ALSO ACTUALLY THE BALANCE OF THEIR DIFFERENT AND COMPLEMENTARY TRAITS AS WELL AS THEIR COMMON POINTS, HELP !?
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the-kazoo-kid · 5 years
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The Two Types of Goblincore
I’ll begin by saying that I’m a Jewish archaeologist, and one of my main areas of study is the pogroms of Eastern Europe during the beginning of the 20th century. This affects the way I think of goblincore in two major ways:
Goblins were used as a negative caricature of Jews to tother them and incite negative feelings and violence among non-news
I have been accused of only wanting to be an archaeologist so that I can dig up and hoard shiny things
I spend a lot of my time looking at images like this one. It’s an antisemetic political cartoon from 1898. 
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Look at the crown, the long, hooked nose, and most importantly the clawed, webbed hands. His hands envelope the world, symbolizing the perceived universal greed of the Jew.
This stereotype of the greedy Jew didn’t originate in the 19th century either. It goes all the way back to the Middle Ages when Jews in Europe were banned from occupations other than banking. 
So now let’s talk about goblins in popular culture. First and foremost in my mind are J.K Rowling’s goblins who are portrayed as greedy, hoarding and-- you guessed it-- in charge of the money and treasure.
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There are even physical similarities between J.K. Rowling’s goblins and the political cartoon above. Note the hooked nose and the hands. 
I was about eight when I read the first Harry Potter book. I remember bringing it to a synagogue event where one of the adults remarked about how uncomfortable the goblins made them. Before I was allowed to watch the movie my mother sat me down and explained what was problematic with those goblins and why.
Next up: LOTR
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He has the crown and the hands, although not the nose, and while he bares less direct resemblance to that cartoon, this is still an example of antisemitism. This is a placeholder character for a Jew that is disgusting, hoarding wealth, and a direct antagonist to the main characters. 
Everquest 2:
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(I found another image where this character was specifically labeled The Goblin Banker but tumblr wouldn’t allow me to upload it for whatever reason.) This goblin is so other that it’s not even recognizable as a person, and in fact in the game they’re classed as a Mob Race. Yikes. Additionally, Wikipedia describes them as “attempting to - unsuccessfully - forge gold coins, and yet they have no intention spending any of this money, they simply wish to 'have' it.” This goes along with a lot of the greed aspect of goblins and their obsession with hoarding.
So what do we do?
First, I want to say that just because these pieces of media (or any others) have these problematic aspects doesn’t mean that you have to stop consuming and enjoying them. If we never read books or watched movies or played games that were problematic we would back ourselves into a corner where nothing was permitted.
The important thing is to educate yourself to the point where you can recognize the negative caricature/stereotype in something that you come across, and to not create any new media containing the stereotype. 
But what if you really like goblins?
The good news is that this is the first, older kind of goblincore, but it’s not the only one out there. There’s a new wave happening that emphasizes the positive things without including the negative ones. These next examples are technically called trolls in their respective universes, but they really get the vibe that I’m going for.
Boxtrolls:
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See? Shiny treasure thing, delight, and no malice. Admittedly the trolls in this movie are some funny looking creatures, but they don’t come across as perpetuating the negative Jewish stereotype to me.
Frozen:
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Cute little guys made of stone and moss. They live peacefully, and when they encounter the protagonists they have a nice musical number and then dispense some wise advice. No greed, no bad intentions. Good for them.
(Again, these examples are both technically trolls but I think the idea comes through, especially since they’re so far from the large, lumbering brutes that are trolls in say... Harry Potter or LOTR.)
Now I’m going to hand this conversation over to @goblinblogging who is a Jew working on reclaiming and reworking the idea of what a goblin is and what a goblin does.
-Reid
Now, I know learning that something you’re doing could be problematic is scary! I also know that a ton of people have abandoned goblincore just because they learned of these stereotypes. 
However, you don’t have to abandon something you love! What you need to do is educate yourself and learn about why these things are harmful and learn what you can do to make sure you aren’t doing something harmful yourself! 
Let's start off with how this stereotype came around (Or at least, one way it originated.) In the book Knockers, Knackers, and Ghosts: Immigrant Folklore in the Western Mines, the author goes into detail about how European origins say the goblins of the mines were the ghosts of dead Jews, sentenced (in properly medieval anti-Jewish fashion) to perpetual restlessness for their supposed role in the crucifixion of Jesus. Which is where the “Goblins live in caves and mines” came from! 
So this explains that the ghosts of Jews became goblins because they were being punished for killing jesus. Already a pretty rough start! Now for common goblin appearances that are nothing but antisemitism in disguise. First, and most obvious, large, hooked, warted noses. I don’t really feel like I have to go into much detail about this one. Anyone who took history class in middle and high school should know about Hitler’s propaganda against jews and the depictions of their bulbous noses, often covered in warts. This caricature directly translates over to goblins having their predominant warted noses. Second, Let’s have a look at green skin. Hitler in particular loved to depict jews with green skin, or at the very least, in very green light so it turned their skin green. 
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Notice the green tint, the evil sneer, hooked nose, and pointed ears in this one! All very reminiscent of traits we commonly see in goblins. 
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 This last one is a movie poster “Suss the Jew” produced by Terra Film at the behest of propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels, and considered one of the most antisemitic films of all time. Notice the green skin! 
 Next is horns and teeth. Hitler in particular would depict jews with devil’s horns hidden under their Kippah (also referred to in Yiddish as a yarmulke, or less frequently as a koppel.) He’d also just depict them outright as demons. 
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This one is Ukranian. Translated means “Satan has taken off his mask” Notice how “satan” has huge teeth and horns, red skin, with the star of David carved into his forehead. Also notice how his jewish mask has a large nose.
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This one is from Russia (1919), a caricature of Leon Trotsky, who was viewed as a symbol of Jewish Bolshevism. Notice the red skin and pointed ears. Also notice how he’s sitting above the people down below (who are sitting on skeletons and bones) symbolizing the Jew’s greed, which we’ll get into later.
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And then there’s this one, where you can see (white) people inside of the Jew’s mouth, you can also see horrendously sharp teeth crushing them. Also pay attention to the large nose and pointed ears. I just remembered that I forgot to cover another very important anti-jewish facial feature, which is that many jews in propaganda have dark beady eyes and drooping eyelids. These are things you can see for yourself in the images above!
Next, we’re moving on to greed. This one in particular hits me close to home. I’ve heard the phrase “Jewing me out of my money” too many times to count. Or alternately, “Don’t be a Jew” when the other person doesn’t think that I’m giving them enough of what they want. (Could be money, could even be sweets. The first time I heard this phrase I was a little kid and I had a bag of skittles. I wanted to share with everyone but I still wanted to have enough for me to eat myself. I was passing out handfuls when my friend’s older brother (he was a teen) didn’t like how much I gave him. He said to me, “Come on, don’t be a Jew, give me some more skittles”. I didn’t understand and when I asked my mom what it meant later she was horrified.) Jews, and their caricatures, have almost always been viewed as greedy and power hungry. As @whalefromwales said above me, Jews in Europe used to be banned from any job besides banking. 
We also have images like this from WWII: 
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Anyone who has taken any class where the Holocaust was talked about should be able to recognize this image, The Eternal Jew. He has money in one hand, which is reached out to demand more - he’s also looking at the money, and a whip in his other hand. In his arm, he holds the whole country of Germany.
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There is also this one. A jew, tinged with red, weighs a man’s life against a large pile of money. Notice also how he’s looking at the money - not the man. 
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And this one should also be easy to recognize. It reads “The Jews - A People of Contagion!” A city burns in the background as a jewish man sits atop a pile of bones counting his money. Notice the bulbous, hooked, nose, black eyes with drooping eyelids, and large hands! Hitler depicted jews this way (and as goblins) in order to segregate us. “Us VS Them”. “We are the Good Human Beings and Jews are monsters!” in order to make it easy for him to begin committing the atrocities that he did! It never happened overnight, there were key stepping stones that built up to concentration camps. One of those was “Jews aren’t really people, so it’s okay that we’re doing this to them. We’re doing it to save us, the Good Christian Germans.”  
So what does all of this mean? Well, first and foremost, it means that you have to be careful how you depict your goblins. How? When drawing your goblinsonas or goblin ocs, stay away from drawing them with huge, hooked, and warted noses, don’t make their skin green or red (personally, I prefer grey skin for goblins.) If your goblin has sharp teeth, don’t make them huge and obvious. Because modern goblins are fair folk, it’s difficult to depict them without pointed ears, but try not to exaggerate the proportions.  
Behavior: Stop with the “greedy little goblin” thing. That DIRECTLY comes from jewish stereotypes. Your Goblins are allowed to collect shiny things they find, but don’t make them greedy about it! Have your goblin share what they collect, make it a community effort. Sharing the things you love is way better than being miserly anyhow, and sharing more represents what we as goblins should want in our community! Also, be careful with your goblins being terrors. Yes, there are usually evil beings in every single race (whether mythological or real) but just be really really careful. Hitler loved to depict jews eating the Good Germans(™) or terrorizing communities. So even if your goblin is an evil one, be really really careful and be sure to educate yourself first so you’re not just perpetuating the same tired shit that Hitler did.Collecting coins. 
Now, this has been a huge topic of discourse lately. Coins are shiney! I understand why people would want to collect them. Hell, I have some awesome 50 cent pieces and gold dollars in my collection. You just can't depict  yourself or your goblin character collecting only coins and being very greedy with them. That’s literally doing nothing but echoing the same propaganda that Hitler used against us. Collect them all you want, but if I see “Greedy little goblin hoarding coins all for themselves” I swear I’m gonna hit the fan. To clarify, you can absolutely show off you coin collection in the goblin tags, just be careful how you frame it. “I’m really interested in history, so I collect old coins because I think they’re neat” is waaaaaay different then “Horrible littel crecher is greedy for shiney monies” (That last quote is something I’ve SEEN in the tags, luckily op was just completely unaware of why that was so wrong and they removed the caption after they were educated.) 
 So please, enjoy being into goblincore. Enjoy the culture and the fantasy. Goblincore is about appreciating the things about us that may be depicted as “weird” or “ugly”. Goblincore is a safe haven for neurodivergent people (I’m Autistic!) and also Trans and other LGBTQIA+ people! It’s a culture for appreciating nature, collecting things that may not be seen as normal, and sharing these things with other people. It’s a culture where you shouldn’t be ashamed to be who you are or afraid to get dirty. Goblincore is a support network for the weirder folks where we strive to uplift one another. Goblincore is wonderful and I’ve been so impressed at how welcoming everyone is! Especially on tumblr! Before the discourse happened, I was sure that goblincore was one of the kindest communities on tumblr. However, I understand why the discourse happened, and goyim in the goblincore tag really did need to be educated, but that doesn’t mean you have to leave! So be sure to educate yourself and be aware of how your actions could negatively affect folks. Listen to other Jewish people and be mindful of what they say. Some Jews are very uncomfortable with goblincore, and for very good reason! And I do not claim to speak for all Jews with this post. 
I am trying to reclaim the word goblin for use by any person who wants the label. I no longer want these fantasy creatures associated with such a beautiful and vibrant culture of people. Goblins are very interesting as a fantasy race, but the negative stereotypes do nothing but hurt real life Jewish people. Which is why I’m hoping that folks will read this post and realize what behaviors and depictions of goblins are wrong and harmful. Also, tag your goblincore appropriately! Again, many Jewish people are uncomfortable with goblincore because of antisemitism that has happened in their past. I’ve been compared to a goblin many times! So keep your goblincore in just the goblincore tags. There are many overlaps between goblincore and other micro communities on tumblr (Such as crowcore, cottagecore, naturecore, and vulture culture) but be mindful of what you’re putting in those tags. Most vulture culture people hate us goblins cuz we put pictures of dirt or “I’m just a smol crecher” in their tags, and I don’t blame them! Vulture culture is only for the remains of dead animals, and dead animal remains should be the only things added to those tags. So fellow goblins, I’m going to end this post with a sincere thank you for reading, be mindful of your actions, and most of all, HAVE FUN with goblincore! 
Here is where you should be able to read Knockers, Knackers, and Ghosts for free if you want.
TLDR: This is what we, as Jewish people, mean when we say that goblins are based off of negative stereotypes of jews. This is also why some jews get really upset at goblincore, however, there are many ways to participate in goblincore without using harmful stereotypes! So please, use this post to educate yourself so you can both be good goblins and good Jewish allies.
- @goblinblogging
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buzzdixonwriter · 3 years
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TROTS AND BONNIE Review
Trigger Warning: This will review a work that often addresses human sexuality, emotional / physical / sexual abuse, and adolescents’ views on same.  Be advised.
. . . 
When I was growing up in the 1950s and early 1960s, two old comic strips that remained popular were J. R. Williams’ Out Our Way and Gene Ahern’s Our Boarding House, both started in the 1920s and, from their daily panels and Sunday pages, never moving out of that decade.  My favorite cartoons on local kid shows were Fleischer Brothers Betty Boop and Popeye cartoons, many of which took place in urban / suburban settings heavily reflective of 1920s and 1930s America.
So when I first encountered Shary Flenniken’s Trots And Bonnie I instantly recognized the flavor and style of the strips.
The content, on the other hand, came straight out of her underground comix pedigree, with the refreshing point of view of the female gaze instead of the admittedly too often misogynistic male cartoonists of the milieu.
Flenniken is one of the best artists and writers to come from the underground era, displaying a confident early mastery of the form (don’t listen to her protestations she really wasn’t good at the start of her career; she clearly ranked among the finest of the underground comix artists).
But the sweet and innocent look of Trots And Bonnie belies the frank and frequently shocking honesty of Flenniken’s work.  
As cartoonist Emily Flake notes in her introduction, “that’s the terrible power of children, the monstrous innocence that makes them capable of anything, a state of being we fatuously describe as ‘pure.’”
Innocence is not synonymous with purity in the world of Trots And Bonnie because the cast lack the moral and cultural filters we acquire as adults.  They are reporting on reality as they see it, and as with all children (and the elderly, and drunks) there’s nothing to stop them from commenting on the foibles of hypocrisy of humanity, nor is there a single iota of shame to hold back their expression.
And when you add the impact of puberty to that mix, holy &#@%, you have no room left for pretense or propriety.
Hold on to your hats, folks, ‘cuz it’s gonna be one helluva ride.
One helluva ride…and a hilarious one, too.
If modern audiences can get past the admittedly often shocking visuals and situations, they’ll find some of the most brilliant coming-of-age comedy ever penned.
The truth is always an absolute defense, and Trots And Bonnie dishes it out lavishly.  Brava to Shary Flenniken for having the courage (or honesty, of lack of filter; take your pick) to pen it, to the original underground comix and National Lampoon to publish it, and to new York Review Comics to bring almost all of it back (Flenniken herself opted to withhold a few strips that she feels might be construed now as hurtful or insulting).
Flenniken is the daughter of a military family, growing up in a variety of climes and places before her father retired in the Seattle area.
She reached adolescence and young adulthood during the hippie era, and the earliest strips cast a fond eye back on that time.
An original member of the infamous Air Pirates crew, she and fellow underground comix artists gained immediate recognition skewering Disney icons.  Air Pirates Funnies and Paul Kassner’s The Realist generated no small amount of tsuris for the House of Mouse in the late 1960s / early 1970s but The Realist, true to its name, possessed to good sense to adhere to the unofficial so-called “one-time fair use parody” rule while the Air Pirates pressed their luck with Air Pirates Funnies #2, resulting in the Disney legal department descending on them like an anvil dropped from orbit.
Crawling away from the wreckage, Flenniken kept contributing to a number of underground venues, creating the first Trots and Bonnie strip for the 1971 underground comix Merton Of The Movement. 
Trots and Bonnie (soon joined by Pepsi, a beguilingly sweet looking elfin-like child with the heart of Germaine Greer, the reproductive organs of Karen Finley, and the mouth of an interstate trucker) popped up in several single page strips and short stories until NatLamp recruited Flenniken in 1972 to be a regular contributor and (briefly) an editor.
NatLamp proved to be the perfect venue for Flenniken and her characters because the magazine possessed the economic mojo and suicidal “Who gives a &#@%?” attitude to publish Trots And Bonnie while at the same time providing a perfect audience of proto-incels who desperately needed some consciousness raising, especially if said consciousness raising arrived in the form of a kick in the groin.
Trots And Bonnie’s tenure at NatLamp lasted slightly more than two decades, but a big hunk of that era saw the Reagan culture wars raging, not to mention much of the country becoming obsessed with a literal modern day witch hunt in the infamous Satanic panic (an apt subject for Flenniken’s characters, but one she wisely avoided, thus following the old military adage, “Never draw fire on your own position.”).
The already edgy material in both NatLamp in general and Trots And Bonnie in particular threatened to be perceived as too edgy by law enforcement, legislators, and judicial authorities who seemed either unwilling or incapable of distinguishing between photographs and video of actual sexual assaults and rapes committed against real children as opposed to crudely drawn Xerox copied mini-comics made by outsider artists with audiences that might possibly number in the dozens.
Flenniken’s willingness to honestly recall the turbulent emotions of early adolescence resulted in stories and strips where prepubescent kids engage in activities and discussions that would be acutely problematic if done today.  Again, the utter lack of self-consciousness in Flenniken’s characters swerves her work away from the low grade smut ground out by many of her male contemporaries and flung open a window on how adolescent females perceived the world around them.
The stories are wildly transgressive, and like all transgressive art can only be understood in the context of their time and mores.  Flenniken’s art carries a sweetness that leavens out the most horrendous situations (she gets astonishing comedic mileage off a story about a woman raped by a police officer, never once blaming or exploiting the victim but lambasting the culture and mindset that makes such a crime possible).
The fact these stories are told from a vibrant feminist / sex positive point of view makes them relevant to this day, and Flenniken’s ability to draw both truth and humor from dysfunctional families, emotional abuse, and drug use keeps them from being one-note exercises.
Most importantly, Flenniken comes across as strongly pro-child, even while honestly depicting her own characters’ failings and misconceptions.
She always brings a genuine emotional connection with her characters as adolescents, neither glorifying nor patronizing them.
One of the most notorious Trots And Bonnie strips finds Bonnie looking at herself in a mirror, fantasizing she’s famous actresses of the past.*  
At the hands and brush of Norman Rockwell, this theme tries for poignant but lands in schmaltz, looking down on an anxious child studying her reflection in a mirror; in far too many bad novels by sub-par male writers, it’s borderline (and often not-so-borderline) pornography.
At the touch of Flenniken’s deft pen, it’s honest and sweet and shockingly frank but it never depicts Bonnie as a figment of the male imagination but as a character and personality all her own.
Flenniken has not done any new Trots And Bonnie strips since the last ones published in NatLamp in 1993.
To be honest, I think that’s a good thing.
The characters are of their particular time and cultural gestalt, it may not be possible to recapture that lightning in a new bottle, and rather than diminish the old, perhaps it best remains a perfect artefact of its era.
Mark Twain tried repeatedly but could never transport Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn out of antebellum Hannibal, and to use an example more contemporary to Flenniken’s work, the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers resolutely thwart all efforts to move them out of San Francisco during the Summer of Love.
You can’t go home again, as Thomas Wolfe famously observed, but that only applies if you’ve successfully left home.  At a certain point, if you haven’t moved beyond your old confines, you never will.
Flenniken’s honest frankness could have turned into a big crosshair on her back during the cultural wars, but to paraphrase John Lennon, life happened while she was making comix.
She married twice, divorced once, widowed the second time.  While she never completely withdrew from professional illustration, she no longer sought out the high profile gigs.
Trots And Bonnie from New York Review Comics is the first extensive English language compilation of her strips and stories, a very handsomely produced volume designed by Norman Hathaway.
The strips are meticulously presented, making it possible to enjoy Flenniken’s fine line work and exquisite character depictions in greater detail than every before.  It’s a genuine delight, sure to thrill old time fans of the original strip and quite likely to win a new generation of admirers.
But brace yourselves, noobs, this ain’t your grandma’s Betty Boop…
© Buzz Dixon
 *  It should be noted that for all its apparent revolutionary newness, the counterculture of the 1960s and 1970s, the crucible that forged Flenniken’s point of view, also enthusiastically embraced the past.  W. C. Fields and the Marx Brothers became cultural icons to a new generation, Betty Boop regained her old popularity, old movies were rediscovered and reimagined, African-American spirituals and blues sprang from new voices, obscure books and novels from earlier decades and centuries became the new cultural touchstones.
I’ve posted elsewhere on how the boomer generation enjoyed a unique conflation of new technology and old media to produce a brand new synthesis; there has been nothing like it since even with astonishing advances in technology.  When old media is rediscovered and reinterpreted in this era, it too often tends to be in the form of irony, which mocks that which it cannot understand.
Give those old hippies their due -- they got the &#@%ing point!
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mermaidsirennikita · 3 years
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What's the worst romance book(s) you've read so far? Bad writing, insufferable characters, unoriginal plot, incredibly dull, etc. etc...
Honestly, I haven't read many that are suuuuper bad, largely because I don't think I make it to the end of a lot of books that would be 1 star ratings for me.
But if we're getting real
50 Shades of Grey by E.L. James--A cliche, but it really is very bad. I don't subscribe to the "it's bad because the relationship is unhealthy" mindset, though I think the story would be a lot better if it went full dark romance and acknowledged how messed up it all is, versus trying to paint it as a healing love story. The writing is just really bad. Few romances hit for me when they're in first person, and this is a prime example of why--inner goddess shit, unsexy sex scenes, the tampon scene that frankly would have MADE the film but was really jarring to read about... Just not good.
Sea of Ruin by Pam Godwin--The story starts rough with the heroine's mom throwing herself off the CLIFFS OF CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA. Now, if you are not from coastal SC as I am... this would perhaps be less insane to read lol. But. A tiny bit of research. Like, a google. Would have told Pam Godwin. That South Carolina. While indeed a hub of the Golden Age of Piracy... does not have coastal cliffs. Moving on from that--this should be so good! MMF menage romance, swords literally crossing, pirates fucking. But God, the heroine sucked. I remember this scene where one of the heroes, a pirate hunter, was spanking her actual pussy (which like, can happen in a dark romance, sure) and she was like.... going on and on... when just pages before she'd been like GIMME YOUR BEST SHOT ARGH PUNCH ME IN THE FACE I CAN TAKE IT MATEY!!!! Like okay girl where did that bravado go??? Lol atrocious book, comically bad.
Overture by Skye Warren--A guardian/ward romance that reminded me of why I prefer guardian/ward in historicals, where the age difference is at least somewhat more socially acceptable at the time. This one was just kind of gross, and I thought I was down, but it turned out I was not. And if the writing had been better, maybe I would've been good? The heroine is over 18 when the actual romance takes place. But the virginity loss scene was........ woof.
Head Over Heels by Hannah Orenstein--One of those classic stories wherein you think you're getting a romance but then the romance is sexless and boring and there is no chemistry whatsoever. A bigger disappointment in that it's set against gymnastics, and I wanted it to be a From Lukov with Love situation. It wasn't just the lack of sex, but the general lack of chemistry between the leads.
The Wall of Winnipeg and Me by Mariana Zapata--I really do enjoy Lukov, but I think Zapata and I aren't MFEO. This one is HORRENDOUS. It's like, marriage of convenience/fake dating situation but the heroine is remarkably childish and just likes sitting around marathoning cartoons, and she doesn't do anything or become anything, and the hero is similarly stagnant and just eats quinoa, and Zapata only does one big sex scene at the end of every book it feels like, and they're not THAT GREAT, so for all that fucking page time you get this guy kind of like rocking into her at the end in bed, BARELY ANY EFFORT, while Zapata describes his "mushroom head" in what I can only describe as sickening detail.
In the Unlikely Event by L.J. Shen--This author is generally shady and as a result I haven't read anything else by her, but this book was horrible first impression. Whiny, mean, gross hero. Who, based on the summary, I thought was meant to be a Hozier ripoff. Hozier would never.
You Deserve Each Other by Sarah Hogle--Bizarre story of two people just irritating each other and the reader for no reason, because frankly in a modern world there was no reason for these two to not just break up. Again, passionless. Again, a big reason why I find contemporaries difficult to trust.
Generally speaking, I also find Sarah J. Maas to be really disappointing to read. So much potential, so little payoff.
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omegarosemain · 4 years
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Rating: Teen and Up
Archive Warnings:
Categories: M/F, M/M, M/M/F
Fandom: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Relationships: Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades/Adrian Tepes
Characters: Adrian Tepes, Trevor Belmont, Sypha Belnades, Belmont Family, Dracula Vlad Tepes, Lisa Tepes
Additional Tags: Time Travel, idk why i had to, (i do know why it’s cuz i wanted interactions with their families without them being dead), past trauma, reliving trauma in a way, it’s a slowburn maybe?, but i’m bad at delaying gratification so, the ot3 is a preestablish relationship, the first chapter just doesn’t start with them, okay?, no beta we die like women, hurt/comfort, fluff, play fighting, trevor’s sisters!, they’re powerful ladies
Language: English
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 1: Torturing Our Boi, Naturally
Trevor woke up in a soft bed.
He was relaxed in a way that had his body struggling to react to his initial panic at waking up somewhere that he hadn’t fallen asleep--that place, of course, being Adrian’s creepy dungeon. The sensation was odd enough to have him on alert. 
There were embers glowing in the hearth, and a series of faint creaks like someone was trying to maneuver quietly a few rooms away, and a large window to his left. It was pre-dawn, by the look of the sky, and he was likely on the second floor.
Maybe that wave of magic had knocked him out, and Sypha and Adrian carried him up to bed...but why not their bedroom? In fact, this didn’t look like any bedroom in the castle, even if it was strangely familiar. And why weren’t they there with him, at least one of them, instead of lurking a few rooms away?
Uneasy, he reached for any of the weapons he kept on him. There were none on his person, which would be understandable if Sypha or Adrian had put him to bed, but the weapons also weren’t at the bedside table. Both of them knew him to be paranoid without his weapons near.
Also, he was wearing a nightgown like one he hadn’t in years. Even since being a permanent residence of the castle and not being forced to sleep in his only set of clothes, Trevor would rather sleep naked or with only undergarments.
In his search for his weapons, all he came across was a small dagger beneath his pillow.
It was his dagger, most certainly. Itfit his hand perfectly and had the crest of the Belmont family on its hilt. It was the dagger he was first trained to defend himself with. A Beolmont’s first weapon had always been presented like any normal child might receive a doll, with as much ceremony as their first steps. 
It had also been lost to the fire that took his home and family twelve years prior.
He suddenly recognized the room he was in. It had been his since he was eight, and had moved out of the “nursery” that he and his twin sister had shared since they were infants. Catherine had redecorated the room and it had become hers, and he was left in the smallest room at the farthest end of the hall.
Trevor took a sharp breath. 
Released it.
Took another breath.
What the fuck was going on?
Sypha had warned that the magic of the hidden dungeon had been old and deep, and Adrian had admitted that his father had taken possession of the castle almost five hundred years ago and still hadn’t know all its secrets. Was the magic there primed to...what? Look into his memories and recreate the worst moment(s) of his life?
If that was the case, though, Trevor should be outside and it should be closer to midnight than morning, and it should be snowing. He also shouldn’t have the free will to break the movements he had made before.
So what was this? An elaborate mind trick? Some sort of...interactive vision of a past he tried desperately to forget?
((Or maybe, a small part of him thought, I really am back in the days before that fire. The normal aches from his accumulated injuries and old scars were suspiciously absent, and his old dagger was much too small to fit so well in his should-be-grown-up hands.))
Trevor slipped from the bed, bare feet making contact with the wooden floor. He shivered slightly, involuntarily.
He dressed quickly in clothes he knew were meant for the daily life of a Belmont--for the training, and movement, and practicality their every day demanded--rather than some of the more aristocratic pieces. His muscle memory directed him to the water asin heating by the hearth to wash his face, and some combination of memory and a long-forgotten habit had him smoothing down the bedding. He slipped on his house-shoes and tucked his dagger into his sleeve before leaving the room.
The hall was achingly familiar, lined with doors that lead to his sisters’ rooms. There were a few portraits on the wall of long-dead ancestors, and a few paintings he knew Gabrielle made in her free time. Used to make. Still might make.
This was the family wing of the house. Like no time had passed at all, not years of drinking himself into oblivion or sleeping out in the cold or repressing all memories of home, he knew where everything was.
Louise was at the mouth of the hall, then Gabrielle, then Colette. Rounding around was Trevor’s, then Annette and Eleanore’s, then Catherine’s across from Louise. Trevor’s parents were on the landing. They would be the first line of defense if they had an intruder, Trevor realized now, as well as providing a barrier for children attempting to sneak out.
He skipped the squeaky floorboard and the creaky fourth step that lead to the main part of the house.
“Annette, is that you?”
Trevor froze halfway down the steps, fighting the urge to pull his dagger on his own mother. Or the memory of her, or whatever it was that was happening to him.
“Trevor? What are you doing creeping about so early?”
He turned to see Helaine Belmont standing at the top of the stairs like a spectre of the past, her dark hair braided over one shoulder and still dressed in only a nightdress. She smiled softly at him, a little confused by her youngest. Trevor had been the type to have to be forcibly roused as a child, he recalled now. Usually Louise had been the one to pull him out of bed as just routinely as a daily chore.
Something horrible and bitter clawed its way up his throat.
“What day is it?” he asked, forcing the words to come.
“Wednesday, dear,” answered his mother, confusion giving way to concern. “Why?”
You all burn on a Wednesday night.
I am an orphan on Thursday.
The church wants us all dead.
“What’s wrong Trevor?”
Why couldn’t he just say it? Was this the magic of the dungeon room, forcing a re-living where you feel like you could change things, but always lacked the ability to do so?
His mother was descending toward him, reaching out and despite himself he fell into her embrace. With the stairs and his twelve-year-old height, he was able to bury his face against her chest.
She spoke to him, carding her fingers through his hair. She said assurances, instructed him to breathe, told him everything was alright.
“You’re not real,” he choked out, even as he held onto her.
“Of course I’m real.” Her voice was calm, and strong. “Just remember our check.”
“Your-your favorite-room-” he tried. “Your favorite room is the-the green room.”
“And your favorite weapon is the war hammer,” she answered evenly. And it had been, back when he was twelve and just being allowed to start specialized weapon training. If it was the day he feared it was, he should have been given his first lesson with the whip only a few weeks earlier.
Slowly his breathing slowed so that he wasn’t gasping for air like a drowned man. His mother’s arms remained around him. When was the last time he had been allowed jsut to exist like this? Drawing comfort without feeling as though he had to give some back?
There was movement at the landing that caused him to jump.
It was Annette, looking just as she had before she died. Sixteen or so, always an early riser. She had their father’s curls and the green eyes of their mother, her hair pulled back and her silver staff in hand. Going for an early-morning warmup.
“Morning, Mama. Trevor.” Her eyes lingered over Trevor, undoubtedly trying to suss out what was going on as she squeezed past them to get past.
Their mother responded in kind, her lack of explanation enough to spur Annette on her way.
Once she had disappeared to the back garden, their mother gently asked, “What was all that about, dear?”
Trevor found himself searching for what to say. Could he tell her? What would it accomplish, if he was nothing but a child?
“I-I...I think I might have…”
She remained silent, waiting.
“I-it was a nightmare, I think. So vivid it could have been real.”
“A memory?”
“A vision, maybe. I don’t know.”
Visions were not unheard of within their family, but they were rare and only came at the most dire of times.
She just hummed. “Let’s get something to eat.”
Trevor watched in a daze as his mother, still in her nightgown, shooed the cook away and began to prepare breakfast. The mug of tea she made for him sat before him, leeching warmth into his hands. He couldn’t bring himself to drink it.
One after another his sisters spilled in.
First was Colette yawning, then Gabrielle with too much energy for someone freshly awake, then Annette done with training. Eleanor stumbled in with horrendous bedhead, Catherine right behind, trailed by Louise.
As soon as the last three entered, Catherine squeezed into Trevor’s chair beside him. If he hadn’t felt so far away he was certain he would cry at the press of his twin sister’s body against his side, one he had thought he’d forgotten until he’d abruptly remembered.
Catherine and him had shared a room long past they had to, and they did every lesson together. She used to be the person he told everything to, even the stupid crush he’d had on the gardener’s son.
“Didn’t have to drag you from bed today,” Louise teased, ruffling his hair as she passed.
He didn’t move, couldn’t answer. Their mother had to excuse him, telling them that he’d had a rather frightening nightmare. Catherine pushed herself, if possible, closer.
“Sticky rolls?” Pavel Belmont asked as he entered the now full kitchen. “What’s the occasion?”
Trevor seemed to wake up at the voice of his father. The scent of cinnamon and baking pastry was in the air. The cup between his hands was no warmer than the rest of the room. Catherine lined up against him knee to hip to elbow to shoulder. His mother still in her night clothes while everyone else was dressed. The dagger up his sleeve and his feet that didn’t quite touch the ground. His entire family that had been dead for over a decade standing all around him.
He folded in on himself, a sob falling from his lips unbidden. Catherine startled away to be swiftly replaced by their father.
“What’s wrong-”
“Trevor-”
“Is he-”
His sisters seemed to be trying to say something at once, as Trevor gasped around his sobbing as it all seemed to break at once.
Their mother sternly hushed them and for a few moments all was silent aside from Trevor’s hitched breathes.
She was on Trevor’s other side, then, brushing his hair aside and wiping away the tears spilling down his cheeks.
“Now, then, I think you should tell us about that maybe-vision of yours, yeah?”
Trevor leaned into his father, feeling as his arms tightened just so around him at the prospect of a vision.
“The-the church. They’re gonna come tonight, with a mob. They’re gonna-gonna burn the house down, with-burn it with everyone inside.”
There was a gasp from someone, but Trevor was only picking up steam. It didn’t matter if this was only an illusion, it felt real--so real that he would never be able to live with himself if he didn’t try to save them.
“They’ll come after dark, in the snow. I-I snuck out, to see the first snowfall. I do it sometimes. I had to watch and listen--I couldn’t move I was frozen--and the fire burned for hours. I heard your screaming but they threw something on the fire--they barred the first floor windows and doors and stabbed Eleanore when she tried to jump from the second story--It wasn’t until the next morning when there was nothing left but ash that they pulled out the bodies. And I-I was left all alone in the woods and I knew everyone was dead. I stayed there for days, hoping someone else had gotten out but-”
“Shh, Trevor, it’s alright,” his mother soothed, something frayed in her voice. “Take a deep breathe, dear.”
“We have to leave,” he said frantically, clinging to her wrist. “Before they come, we have to go before they-”
“We will.”
And just like that he slumped like a puppet without its strings.
Many things could still go wrong, of course. The mob would realize quickly that there were no screams coming from the house, or anyone trying to leap from the windows. They could track them, like they tried to track Trevor when they finally realized they were missing one of the children through the mess that was his family home and the bodies which also belonged to the servants. It would be easier to follow all of them immediately rather than him, alone, days later, even if he had been hungry and traumatized.
Hearing that they were aware, though, knowing that things would be different, made all the possibilities bearable.
His mother stood and Trevor saw the frightened faces of his sisters. Even Louise, the eldest, the one who never seemed to be thrown off by the world around her, was shaken.
“Breakfast time, I think,” their mother said with a small clap of her hands. “We have a busy day ahead of us.” 
Their father followed her instructions of securing everyone a fresh sticky roll, tense but not afraid like his children.
“Mother-” Colette began, holding tight to her fork.
“Don’t worry, there is a plan in place for evacuation. There are, of course, our safe houses across the continent, and other places for us to go. Eat. We will be alright now that we have the warning.”
Trevor was too stressed to care much about the strained silence, but he did miss Catherine taking up half his chair.
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