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gates-keeper · 3 years

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Part 1: “Words of Affirmation” Destiel Quotes & Parallels

I’m sure someone’s done this before me and done it better, but I’m compiling a huge Destiel evidence docket for no reason. Anyone got any quotes to add?

Comments From Outside Characters

To Dean

Uriel: “He has this weakness. He likes you.” (4x10)

Balthazar: “You have me confused with the other angel. You know, the one in the dirty trench coat who’s in love with you.” (6x17)

Hester: “The first time Castiel laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost.” (7x21)

Meg: “He was your boyfriend first.” (7x23)

Charlie: “What about Castiel? He seems helpful. And dreamy.” (8x20)

Marie: “Although we do explore the nature of Destiel in Act 2.” (10x5)

Sam: “Shouldn’t it be Deastiel?” He then goes on to tease Dean with “Sastiel” which Dean takes negatively. (10x5)

Dean: “This Cas is looking at me weird.” Sam: “So like the real Cas then.” (15x14)

To Castiel

Hannah: “We gave you our trust. Don’t lose it over one man.” (9x22)

Metatron: “His true weakness is revealed. He’s in love…with humanity.” (9x22)

Metatron: “Oh, that’s right. To save Dean Winchester. That was your goal, right? I mean, you draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but, ultimately, it was about saving one human, right?” (9x23)

Ishim: “I’m going to cure you of your human weakness [i.e. Dean]” (12x10)

The Empty: “I have tiptoed through all your little tulips. Your memories, your little feelings, yes. I know what you hate. I know who you love…There is nothing for you back there.” (13x4)

Demon: “I thought you were joined at the… (looks down) everything.” (14x01)

There are also several instances where other characters try to poke at insecurities regarding their relationship.

Naomi: “You're hoping Castiel will return to you. I admire your loyalty. I only wish he felt the same way.” (8x19)

Casifer: “There comes a time when every relationship has run its course.” (11x18)

Michael!Dean: “You only tolerate the angel because you think you owe him, because he ‘gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition.’ Or whatever.” (14x10)

Comments From Dean

To Cas

“There are two things I know for certain. One, Bert and Ernie are gay. And two, you are not going to die a virgin.” (5x03)

“So what? I’m Thelma and you’re Louise and we’re just going to hold hands and sail off this cliff together?” (5x03)

“You know what? Blow me, Cas.” (5x18)

“Cas, not for nothing, but the last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid.” (5x18)

“Look, I don’t need to feel like hell for failing you, okay? For failing you like I’ve failed every other godforsaken thing that I care about! I don’t need it!” (8x07)

“We need you. I need you.”

For more on this quote see the “We vs. I” section.

To Other Characters

Bobby: “I think maybe it’s time you made a call.” Dean: “Why does it always gotta be me that makes the call, huh? It’s not like Cas lives in my ass. The dude’s busy.” (Cas appears) Dean: “Get out of my ass.” Cas: “I was never in your… (head tilt)” (6x19)

“On my car…. He showed up naked… covered in bees.” (7x23)

While Cas suffered from some mental issues at the time, it seems somewhat significant that he sought Dean out under the circumstances, not Sam, etc.

“There’s things… people… feelings that I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time.” (10x16)

“My shy but devastatingly handsome friend here” (12x12)

“He came into my room and he played me.” (12x19)

“Let’s see. Crowley’s dead, Kelly’s dead, Cas is—Mom’s gone.” (13x01)

Dean’s inability to list Cas’s death singles him out as the most devastating of the losses.

“We’ve lost everything. And now you’re gonna bring him back.” (13x01)

While some people have heard this as “bring ‘em back”, the Netflix captions and transcripts I have been able to find say “him.”

“And Cas bought it. And you know what it got him? It got him dead! Now you may be able to forget about that, but I can't!” (13x03)

“I have a family.” (In response to John Winchester lamenting Dean doesn’t have a wife and kids) (14x13)

Comments From Cas

To Dean

“I was getting too close to the humans in my charge. You. They feel I've begun to express emotions. The doorways to doubt.” (4x16)

“I’m hunted. I rebelled. And I did it—all of it—for you.” (5x02)

“I gave everything for you. And this is what you give to me.” (5x18)

“I do everything that you ask. I always come when you call.” (6x21)

“So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord.” (6x22)

Before taking on the role of God, Cas seemed very concerned with Dean’s forgiveness/acceptance/love. It is interesting that, as God, that was the first thing he asked for, turning from Sam (who had just stabbed him) to Dean to ask for love.

“Sam, and everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long dead. Everyone except me.” (10x22)

“I love you. I love all of you.” (Arguably to the group, but the first “I love you” can be seen as Dean-specific, especially since it cuts to Dean after being said.) (12x12)

“You mean too much to me. To everything.” (12x9) (To Mary, Sam, and Dean. However, the camera immediately cuts to Dean specifically, even though he is in the back of the group).

“I’m your Huckleberry.” (13x06)

Cas love confession (15x18)

To Other Characters

“Dean and I do share a more profound bond.” (6x03)

“I won’t hurt Dean.” (8x17)

This is said as Castiel is breaking away from Naomi’s mind control—mind control she fostered specifically by having Cas kill a thousand versions of Dean. This implies she knows that Cas’s strongest loyalty is to Dean, not Sam, or humans in general.

“The point is that they [Dean & Sam] were here at all and you got to know them, you -- When they're gone, it will hurt, but that hurt will remind you of how much you loved them.” (14x14)

“You know, Dean, he... he feels things more acutely than any human I've ever known.” (15x13)

Other Comments

Reaper: “How do I start looking for this... Castiel?” Bartholomew: “I got one word for you. Winchester.”

Rowena: “An Angel of the Lord, shattered at the altar of Winchester.”

Use of We vs. I

In the crypt scene in Season 8, Dean tells Cas, “We need you.” This is not enough to stop Cas’s actions. When the language switches to “I need you,” Cas drops the angel blade.

We can clearly see that Dean tries to put up barriers about how he really feels about Cas in his use of “We.” For example, after showing the audience many scenes of Dean, not Sam, frantically trying to call Cas, we get the following lines:

“So not only were you ditching us, but you were also ignoring us?”

“With everything that's going on, you can't just go dark like that. We didn't know what happened to you. We were worried. That's not okay.”

It’s clear that these “we’s” are really “I’s”

In the alternate future presented in 15x9, Sam asks Dean, “What’s happened to you Dean… ever since…?” to which Dean responds, “Ever since what? We lost pretty much everyone we’ve ever cared about? Ever since the Mark made Cas go crazy and I had to bury him in a Malak box… ever since then?” While he acknowledges Sam’s losses as well, his switch to “I” in reference to Cas implies that Cas’s loss belongs especially to him.

(Mostly) Verbal Parallels to Other Couples

In 1x01 (start at 2:27), Dean pulls Sam away from a dead Jess in a direct parallel to how Sam pulls Dean away from Cas in 12x23

Following Jessica’s death, Sam keeps seeing glimpses of her as he and Dean travel around in the Impala. Dean does the same in Season 8 following his return from Purgatory without Cas.

David from “Bloodlines” (9x20) tells his love interest, “I was there. Where were you?” which is the same thing Dean says to Cas in “The Man Who Would Be King” (6x20)

When asking Dean whether he’s in love with Cassie, Dean gives a similar response to what he will say in 10x5 when asked about Destiel.

Destiel is paralleled with their counterparts from the Supernatural play who are “a couple in real life” (10x5)

Cain compares himself to Dean in Season 10. He describes the significant kills of his life (The Knights of Hell, his wife Collette, and his brother Abel) and tells Dean that he will follow his same pattern by killing the King of Hell Crowley, Castiel, then Sam. It is also mentioned that all Collette asked of Cain was “to stop,” which is the same language Cas uses with Dean in 10x22.

Dean explains how his parents fell in love to prove his identity to Mary in 12x1, “He was cute and he knew the words to every Zeppelin song, so when he asked you for your number, you gave it to him, even though you knew your dad would be pissed.” Later in this same season (12x19), Dean gives Cas a homemade mixtape of his favorite Zeppelin songs.

Ishim fell in love with a human named Lily Sunder who ultimately left him for someone else. When trying to recruit Castiel, he compares Dean to her.

Dean questions how much of their life has been controlled by God. Cas states, “You asked, ‘What about all of this is real?’ We are.” (15x02) Later, they find out that God has been using Eileen to spy on the Winchesters. She says, “After what happened, I don’t know what’s real anymore.” Sam kisses her, stating “I know that was real.” (15x09)

PART 2 “Physical Touch” Now Finished

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel is canon

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marvelbbyx · 3 years

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Can I Be Him? (Carol Danvers x Fem! Reader)

Summary: You and Carol have been the bestest of friends for years and years, to you it’s simply platonic. Whereas for Carol, she tortures herself constantly pining after you. The situation only gets worse when you get engaged to your boyfriend of three years and Carol has to leave for a mission (that could more or less take her six years to get back from).

The day before Carol has to leave, she admits her feelings for you, giving you two choices: to leave him and go with her or stay with him and get married.

Who will you choose and what will be your outcome?

Author’s Note: Yeah, I’m gonna make this a two parter lol since I wanna be dramatic. But stay tuned for tomorrow’s add on! 😁

Fic inspired by James Arthur’s song Can I Be Him? Which was 1000% the reason I wrote this.

Warnings! ANGST

Part Two Here!

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You walked into the room and now my heart has been stolen.

You took me back in time to when I was unbroken.

Now you're all I want.

And I knew it from the very first moment,

'Cause a light came on when I heard that song and I want you to sing it again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Carol, stop! You’re cheating!” You shriek as her Mortal Kombat character starts to pummel yours into a bloody pulp.

“How is it that you’re the one that taught me this game, yet—I’m kicking your ass.” The blonde says with a cocky smirk. “Guess you just suck.”

“Or my controller’s stuck.” You shot back.

“Yeah, okay,” She rolled her eyes playfully.

You two were at your apartment, it was your day off and you wanted nothing more than to relax at home, Carol just happened to sweeten the deal with a case of beer and some pizza.

The Captain and the Avenger, or as the others like to call you—Bert and Ernie. You and Carol were about as thick as thieves and you were never really seen without each other hardly ANYWHERE around the compound. It all started when Carol had been assigned a partner to accompany her on a mission to The Garden back in 2018. Everyone swore that you two wouldn’t get along, with your ability to plan ahead and Carol’s ability to...not plan ahead it was bound to be a recipe for disaster. But after a few jokes here and there and a battle later on you two became inseparable.

Nothing could shake or disrupt the bond that you two had, all except for one thing...him.

Carol had beaten you three times in the past five minutes, she offered a final round after noticing your frustration only to win again within seconds.

“Well, well, well,” Carol throws her arms behind her head. “What’s my score again, four? And what’s yours, zip?”

The playful challenge in her gaze stirred your competitive edge, the one that hated to lose and absolutely hated being out of control. Especially in the game of your choosing.

You cross your arms over your chest and pouted like a child, “It’s only because you cheated.” You huffed.

“Yeah, keep on telling yourself that, babe. Don’t be mad because you’re a sore loser.” She teased.

“Re-Match then.” You challenged with a grin. “If I win, you’ll do whatever I say. Same thing goes if you win.”

Carol’s brows lift up in intrigue, “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“That’s something we’ll have to figure out on our own time.” You say. You extend your hand out for Carol to shake. “So, do we have a deal, Danvers?”

She takes your hand, shaking it firmly. “We do.”

Her grip on your hand lingers longer than she meant to, yours were baby soft compared to hers, each callus and dry patch were a layout of her life, each held a story and meaning.

You slid your hand out from her grasp when you heard the door open and shut. You turned your head in the direction of the approaching footsteps, a smile forms on your lips when you hear, “Sweetheart? I’m home!”

“Hi, honey!” You call out.

Kevin Davis, your boyfriend of three years. A man as sweet as they came, someone that would move Heaven and Earth for you. He was a doctor helping out at the compound and you just so happened to come back from a mission with some severe battle damage. Long story short, you two fell in love and moved in together.

Carol forces her best smile before her eyes met with your boyfriend’s. “Hey, Kevin.”

“Hey, Car.” He greets with a small smile.

Carol hated that nickname. Much more than she hated him.

Not that he was a bad guy. Kevin was actually a great guy, always able to help out and very friendly. She didn’t hate him for that though, she hated how you would look at him when he told a joke or how your eyes would light up when you talked about him. But what Carol had hated most of all...was that it wasn’t her.

A portion of her heart dies as she sees you stand up to kiss him, you two talked and acted as if she wasn’t there, which made her want to scream and cry until her throat went raw. These feelings began the first time she met you. After the Snap, everyone was expected to mourn and remember the loved ones who vanished. Carol was dealing with losing a loved one as well. Her best friend, her rock, and the only family she had, Maria Rambeau, who had passed away from cancer.

You were there when she went and comforted her immediately after. Your bond strengthened since that day, as well as Carol’s feelings for you.

“I should be heading out,” Carol drew herself to her feet. “I gotta get up early for a meeting.”

“No, Carol you don’t have to leave, we can continue our game.” You tried to convince her.

‘I’d rather chew on barbed wire than to be in the same room with him.’

But instead of saying that, she bites her tongue and simply shakes her head. “It’s okay, Y/N, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

You gave a soft smile. “Okay.”

“Bye, Kevin.” The words produced the taste of bile to spread on her tongue.

“Bye, Carol.” Kevin says with his unrelenting smile.

Carol manages to make it to the car before she bursts into violent tears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I swear that every word you sing, you wrote them for me.

Like it was a private show, I know you never saw me.

When the lights come on and I'm on my own,

Will you be there to sing it again?

Could I be the one you talk about in all your stories?

Can I be him?

I heard there was someone but I know he don't deserve you.

If you were mine I'd never let anyone hurt you, no, no.

I wanna dry those tears, kiss those lips.

It's all that I've been thinking about.

'Cause a light came on when I heard that song and I want you to sing it again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Six years.

Six years on recon for a planet held hostage by some alien heretics, a distress call was sent and Carol was the only one who had answered. Six years and a million light years away from Earth, and a million light years away from you.

Carol had to leave early the next morning and wouldn’t have the chance to say goodbye to you before she left. So she decided to head over to your apartment for the re-match, once there; she found saying goodbye to be much more difficult than anticipated. Especially when you would greet her with such a smile that was now burned into her memory.

She tried not to think about it at all while you were playing the game, she tried not think of anything while playing.

“How are you beating me again?” You cried in disbelief watching Carol’s character slice yours in three parts.

“I told you I was good, you just didn’t believe me.” She smiles smugly. “Looks like I’m gonna win the bet.”

“You can try,” You challenged as you poked your tongue out at her.

Carol regained her focus back to the video game, having you on the ropes and your character’s life bar hanging on by a thread. It wasn’t until you lifted your left hand to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear that she caught glimpse of the gold engagement ring practically beaming up at her.

That was when she paused the game.

You gave a puzzled look. “What’d you do that for?”

Instead of answering you she stood up quickly, turning her back to you as she tried to fight the tears that threatened to slip down her cheeks. Engaged, how could you be engaged? And why with him?

“Carol?” You called softly.

“You weren’t gonna tell me...about the ring?” She asks, doing her best to hold off on crying.

Your eyes dart down to the gold band on your finger, fiddling with it gently. You yourself were quite shocked about it, the second that Carol left was when Kevin had proposed to you.

“I didn’t know how to say it,” You murmur. “I wanted to tell you first before I told everyone else.”

“So you decided to wear it and hope that I’d notice?” She chuckles.

“I was gonna talk to you after the game, ya know...if you hadn’t paused it.” You say as you awaited some form of a retort from your best friend, only to get no response. “Are you okay?”

Carol remained quiet for a few minutes, allowing the warm streams of water to fall down her cheeks. Burning as they did. Before you had the chance to ask again, Carol’s lips part to speak, the tears evident in her voice, “Why’d you say yes?”

“What?” You blinked up at her. “What do you mean?”

“I’m asking why him?” Her lip trembles.

“And I’m asking what brought this up?” You retort. “Because you’ve never said anything about this before and...and I don’t understand why now?”

She sighs before turning to you, her eyes pink and swollen. “Why now?”

You nod.

“Because I loved you since the beginning but I didn’t know it yet, and I especially didn’t know that it would hurt to love you this much.” Carol tells you, crying harder. “Especially when you talk about him.”

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Your throat constricted as unshed tears stung your eyes. “Waiting until now to say something doesn’t change anything, Carol. You can’t just—“

“I’m leaving for a mission tomorrow,” She says abruptly. “...for six years.”

The words that formed on your tongue evaporated instantly, gazing up at her with quiet intensity. “When we’re you going to tell me?”

“Today.” She replies.

“And that was supposed to soften the blow?”

“I thought—“

“No,” It was your turn to cut her off. “You can’t just drop a bomb on me like this.”

“You’re one to talk, when were you going to tell me that you were engaged?” She shot back, your silence being the response that she needed. “I thought so.”

You fiddled with your ring again, the band was heavy now feeling as if it would constrict your finger. “I loved you too...from the start, and I still do. I waited for you—to step in at any moment. I pushed Kevin away multiple times because you’re the one that I wanted. And...I still want you. Only you, Carol. If you would’ve said something then I wouldn’t be engaged. But now it’s too late.”

“Come with me,” She cried. “Please...”

You shake your head slowly, your tears flowing down your cheeks with haste. “I can’t—“

“Yes, you can. Leave him. Leave him and...and come with me. Please, Y/N.” Carol begged. “You say it’s too late but you still have time. We still have time. Come with me...please.”

“Carol, I—“

And before you were able to finish your answer, the door opened and Kevin walked in, “Hi, baby! I’m home!”

“Hi, honey.” You reply quietly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To be continued....👀

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Tag list: @captains-simp

If anyone else would like to be tagged just let me know! ☺️

#brie larson #captain marvel #carol danvers #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers imagine #carol danvers angst

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casmybelovedass · 4 years

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The Destiel Folder: Season 5

[Season 4 here]

Episode 1:

Dean is visibly upset about Cas' death, especially at (6:07), and Zachariah notices. From here on, we have a progressive worse reaction from Dean to each of Castiel's deaths

Dean calls Cas a 'friend', again sounding very upset (8:20)

We also get a parallel between Dean and Sam: "I learned that from my friend Cas, you son of a bitch!" and "I learned that from Ruby." (9:10) ICWAW, this parallel would implicate romantic subtext

Cas comes back, bringing top energy onto Zachariah, and Dean just... checks him out (32:43) [this is a frequent thing by the way, I'm on S10 right now, it is]

Episode 2:

I'm so fuckin sorry but I'm laughing too hard at this: D"God" C"Yes" D"God" C"Yes!" (4:09) guys, don't sex-talk in front of Sam and Bobby

"I rebelled, and I did it, all of it, for you." (4:54)

Dean gives in to Cas' top energy "Dean, give it to me." (5:53) shit, guys, enough sex-talk

Episode 3:

The 'personal space scene'. Dean, love, if someone is in your personal bubble, and you don't want them there, you don't stand there for 10 seconds while flicking your gaze from their eyes to their lips TWICE (6:04) ICWAW, these scene would be read as full of sexual tension

Dean here compares himself and Cas to Thelma & Louise, from a movie with HELLA lesbian subtext. And the way he looks at Cas for 7 seconds, tongue between his teeth and just... this fucking look (7:37)

You don't look at friends that way. You don't.

"I need your help, because you're the only one who'll help me. Please". (7:58) Cas trusts Dean will help him while no other would, and he is right... also Dean keeps glancing at his lips

The way Dean fixs Cas' tie and collar, so domestic. (10:34) [This will parallel in 10x05 when Dean messes up musical!Castiel's tie for it to be a legit costume.] Also, the whole police station scene is full of Old married couple moments

"There are two things that I know for certain. One, Bert and Ernie are gay." And then they were voted best chemestry couple like Bert and Ernie. Just saying. (16:23) "Two, you are not gonna die a virgin. Not on my watch... let's go."... and Cas just follows Dean like nothing, but later on...

... Cas is beyond terrified at the idea of being intimate with a woman (11:24),

tho he followed Dean with no problem. ... Did... did he think Dean was making an offer?

He chugs down a beer in fear, poor baby

And he is so jumpy I'm dying

Dean admits Cas is the only one who has made him laugh for real in years (20:58), also, shoulder hug, and Cas, who was on the verge of tears a moment earlier, is smiling and comfortable now.

"Don't look at me, it was his idea." (26:57) the look Cas gives Dean, they're so fucking #MARRIED

"Today you're my little bitch." "... What he said!" Dean is impressed and amused by Cas' smugness (and top energy) (31:55) Basically "Well, mark me down as scared and horny!"

Dean understands how Cas feels, and wants to help. He says he feels good with him "I've had more fun with you in the past 24h that I've had with Sam in years... and you're not that much fun." (36:06) Dean doesn't want to be alone, didn't want Cas to leave.

Episode 4:

Dean sounds and looks like a teenager on the phone with their crush, teasing Cas while smiling softly (1:22). Also "I'll just... wait here then." (2:15)

Even as a mortal, Cas stuck with Dean through the apocalypse, living in pain, chugging down drugs, but never leaving Dean's side. Being his second during hunts. Having only each other

And this Cas can recognize this Dean is not his own only by glancing at him for a moment (... by looking at his dick?!) (18:37)

Dean is stunned and concerned about apocalypse!Cas and how his life turned out

Apocalypse!Cas sits like Dean. Aww, they've been rubbing off on each other [yeah, I bet] (22:27)

"I like past you!" and that smile. So sweet and nostalgic (25:35)

This whole scene (23:48). They are so #MARRIED

Dean is concerned about Cas doing drugs, being basically depressed and living like shit (28:03)

Cas saves Dean again. "We had an appointment." "...Don't ever change." and the way they stare at each other (38:49) look at those smiles and how longingly Cas looks at Dean

Episode 8:

Not a destiel moment, but Dean is totally BI: (12:04); "Sure" (12:42); "What makes Dr Sexy, SEXY, is that he wears cowboy boots!" (12:57); and Dean loves cowboys, just saying

Is... is Dean thinking about Cas being pretty? And about the fact that a creepy guy just called his angel 'pretty'? (20:26)

First thing Dean requests Gabe does is to bring Cas back, threatening him

Episode 9:

Dean reacting to Damien and Barnes being a couple is... LOL (36:27) and after that (38:40), he is on his own, fiddling with his keys, smiling to himself. And when Sam asks if he is okay, he responds "Yeah, you know? I think I'm good." while still smiling to himself. Is he happy about an queer man portraying him, about seeing himself in a confident, openly queer man in a relationship? What else could it be?

Episode 13:

Dean gets more and more worried when Cas gets/is hurt (9:45)(38:02). Also, he got Cas a honeymoon suite. Wow. How sweet.

Episode 14:

The phone call scene. The stares, the tension... look at this shit (10:00)

Dean, stop checking out Cas. You're working. But seriously, look at him. He likes his roughness. AND AGAIN WITH THE LIPS STARING (11:02)

Dean and Cas, after being touched by a cherub, stand shoulder-to-shoulder close to each other, in front of a bi-coloured window (13:26-13:33) I MEAN- Also, Dean, you're staring at a naked man's dong... just saying (13:33-13:36)... stop that, be a professional

Is this the first wink Dean gives at Cas? (14:37) for real? With a cherub in the room? Wow.

(16:16) "Where did he go?" "I belive you upset him." Look at Cas during this scene. #MARRIED

Cas asks Dean where his Famine-induced-hunger is, why he seems unaffected by it... and Dean stares at Cas, then the burger he is holding, then back at him, like he has everything he could want right there, in his Baby (29:22)

Episode 16:

... I'm sorry, but... did Cas really have to MOAN Dean's name to get his attention? (5:24)

I believe this is the first time we ever hear Dean say the words "I love you" (14:38-28:09), and he is saying them to Sam. The only other time we hear him say it is to his mother in 12x22. And the only other person he was supposed to say those words to was, in fact, Cas in 8x17. Let that sink in.

"You son of a bitch." Dean's been rubbing off on Cas, and this is not the only line he has picked up from Dean (38:29)

Episode 17:

This is such a sweet scene. Cas is showing himself weak once again, and Dean sympathises with him, reassures him, confides in him. How sweet. (30:17) ICWAW, this would be seen as a romantic bonding moment

Episode 18:

Cas legit looks like an angry wife. Look how pissed he is at Dean (6:19) #MARRIED

This is such a #MARRIED scene, with Cas being pissy at Dean "being a coward". Also "Yeah, you know what? Blow me, Cas!" and his look after that, like "Does... does he actually want me to?" (13:22)

and this is not the last 'sexual invitation' Dean makes Cas. In fact, minutes later...

"Cas, not for nothing, but, the last person who looked at me like that... I got laid. *wink*" ... just... that (17:53). ICWAW, people would believe this was flirtatious, SHAMELESS, teasing

Look at that FULL TOP MODE tho

"I gave everything for you, and this is what you give to me?" (25:28) Cas is not just angry at Dean for giving up on the plan, but for giving up on life, on them. "So you could surrender to them?" (25:17) not "So you can let them win". It could've been phrased that way, but this is not about the angels winning. It's about Dean giving up on them. Cas is 'cause Dean would be selfishly leaving them

Cas starts taking off his tie and... Dean just stares (31:46). Moments later, we find out Cas totally took his shirt off in front of the boys to make the banishing simbol on his chest, and by the way Dean was STARING when it was only a tie, I bet he either gawked or averted his eyes. Either way, GAY

Cas prefers to die rather than watch Dean fail and die himself (31:55) Also, Sam still thinks of Dean as a hero who can do no wrong, while Cas recognizes his flaws and weaknesses. He knows Dean

Zachariah grabs Dean by the collar and gets in his face. Dean does nothing but flinch a little, mantaining his strong appearance. He only submits and looks overwhelmed when Cas does it (37:50)

Episode 19:

Cas is priority to Dean over Adam. He's more family to him than his actual blood (5:29)

Episode 21:

Cas is basically human, bloody, hurt, powerless and weak. First thing he does? Reach out for Dean (3:16)

Cas is still weak and powerless, and took a bus for miles, just to get back to Dean (12:35)

Episode 22:

Moments before basically going and kill himself, Dean focuses on Cas instead of Bobby, his father figure (24:35)

Cas is on the verge of tears at the thought of Dean dying (25:20)

We know Cas can heal without having to touch the body, but we always see him reach for contact with Dean (35:52) [That's why in S15, it hurts to see Cas not touching Dean while healing him. It feels unnatural]

Dean loves cowboys, and associates Cas to a sheriff. Cas, knowing that, smiles softly at the idea(37:30). Also, Dean obviously doesn't want Cas to leave, and tears up when he does

[Season 6>>]

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ckret2 · 4 years

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do you have any tips on writing ace/aro characters, so that they come off as natural n not forced?

I'm gonna assume you're coming at this from a non-ace/aro perspective, so like, lemme give a super simple quick-and-dirty trick, and then I'll give you a couple of caveats to it. Also every time I say ace/aro in this post I mean "ace&aro OR ace OR aro." The example I'm using for this trick is more ace-oriented but like, apply the same mental exercise to romance. Here we go, here's the trick:

Pretend you're writing inside the mind of an adult character in a series aimed at little kids.

On the surface that sounds terrible I know, but bear with me while I explain it.

If you're watching, like, Sesame Street? There are adult characters running around. Various humans, Oscar the Grouch, Bert and Ernie, etc.

None of these characters think about fucking.

Like, ever.

I know, this concept is jarring, because Oscar is clearly a freak, and we all have headcanons about Bert and Ernie—but like, realistically speaking, they live inside a show aimed at preschoolers, and therefore they never think about fucking. They think about taxes, they think about repairing broken home appliances, they think about the state of the environment, they think about great works of art, but they don't think about fucking. You can examine the thoughts inside their heads at any time and fucking never crosses their minds.

Now, this doesn't mean they're childish/immature/naive. I specified "adult characters" for a reason. (Which is why, say, Elmo can't count for this example; the reason Elmo doesn't think about sex is because he's a baby.) Oscar is the wisest person on the planet. Bert and Ernie are out there living adult lives—and Ernie's a bit of a dork, but he's clearly an adult with some goofy thoughts, not an adult with the mind of a child. The human characters on the show are all normal humans, and the only trait they have in common is that they all get along with kids or else they wouldn't be on the show. You could write any of these characters into serious adult plots, just age up the vocab a bit, and they'd work just fine.

These adults are also all living in a real-ish world, and all have adult educations and knowledge bases. If you removed these characters from the setting of Sesame Street to ensure there are no preschoolers around and like, asked them if they know what sex is, they'd be like, yeah. Sure. Obviously. They wouldn't be naive. They are probably all reasonably knowledgeable about sex, to whatever extent we can expect out of muppets.

But none of them think about it. None of them care about it. They don't not know about it, they just don't think about it. If a guest singer comes on with a low-cut top, none of them will even notice that you can see almost all of her cleavage. If someone shows up who they personally consider extremely good looking by whatever their respective standards are, they will admire that person's looks but not once think about that person naked. On Valentine's Day they will think about handing out chocolates to their friends, and not think about the state of their sex lives. Due to the fact that they're not naive, if SOMEBODY ELSE goes "got a date for valentine's!! Hope we'll be up late. ;)" they might go "oh congrats, gonna see a late movie? ...... oh no wait, I figured out what you mean, haha good luck."

They aren't clueless. But the nature of the reality they live in precludes sex from naturally occurring to them or appealing to them.

You can do ace characters like that. You can also do aro characters like that—this specific example is focused on ace because like, even toddler shows will show romance in the form of A Mommy And A Daddy Who Are Married or whatever, and I couldn't think of an easy broadly-recognizable example for romance-free settings. But you can apply the same "knows about it, doesn't think about it, doesn't care about it" logic to aro characters.

The advantage of taking that approach is this: you never have to focus on I wonder what it's like to never think about sex/romance? because it is, at least in my opinion, VERY easy to imagine the aforementioned characters never thinking about sex/romance. You don't have to stop and try to figure out how they interact with the world, because they just DO interact with the world, never thinking about the things they don't feel the need to think about.

A lot of times I see ace/aro characters written as somehow preoccupied with their own absence of XYZ feelings, or else mentally explaining/justifying why they dislike XYZ activities as if their orientations are something they thoughtfully reasoned out rather than something innate/unconscious; and in both cases I think that's a reflection of allo writers being preoccupied with the absent feelings or trying to come up with an explanation that makes sense to THEM for why someone would "decide" to have this orientation the writers themselves don't have an internal instinctive understanding of.

But the same writers would probably have no problem writing Oscar without sexual thoughts because it probably never occurred to them to give Oscar sexual thoughts in the first place. It's not something they need to think about and justify. They can just do it.

Now, here are the caveats:

- Of course you don't want to LITERALLY write ace/aro characters like ACTUAL characters from shows aimed at preschoolers. You can AND SHOULD have them be gritty and intelligent and willing to go commit murders or whatever, and can AND SHOULD have them demonstrate all the depth and complexity of a character in a Victor Hugo novel. This example isn't given as a suggestion for a basis of characterization, but just as a thought exercise to help someone I'm presuming is allo get into the mindset of what it's like to have a character who simply never thinks about sex or romance. "How to have a character not be thinking about sex" is all you should take from this. Please don't write ace/aro characters like you're writing to a five-year-old audience.

- Of course, ace/aro folks are all different. Some of them think about sex or romance a lot. Some of them find romance fascinating to think and write about specifically because they don't have an internal sensation of it—hi there, yours truly. Some of them are demi or gray and do feel sexual or romantic attraction once in a blue moon. Some of them aren't merely neutral to the topics, but actively repulsed, uncomfortable, hostile, etc, whether that's because of just an instinctive Ew Yuck reaction or because they live in a society where the topics (and sometimes the activities) are forced on people all the time and they got sick of it. Some of them are actively sad/wistful that they don't experience those desires. Some are very pleased with how they are but still spend a lot of time comparing/contrasting their experience of the world with other people's. "Completely oblivious and completely disinterested and completely neutral" is a real possibility, but only one possibility out of many, and it would suck if that's the only sort of ace/aro rep we get.

But—BUT—if you're new at writing ace/aro characters, particularly if you're still figuring out the very basics of how to write about them in a way that sounds natural, I still recommend this thought experiment as a way to wrap your mind around the very basic root level experience of what it's like to have a character that doesn't feel attraction. Everything else can be piled on top of that foundation later.

Because if you hop straight on to something complicated like "smut scene with a character who's ace but sex positive and into doing kinky shit," what you might actually end up writing is "character with a token line included about how they don't desire sex but think it's fun and then they spend the rest of the scene having extremely allo-sounding thoughts/reactions," whereas if you've already had some experience/practice putting yourself into the head of a, like, basic tutorial level ace character, it's easier to extrapolate from that and do things like go "well, this character is into kinky sex, BUT I probably shouldn't have them get aroused at the thought of seeing their partner naked, since their source of fun is from the act itself and not from a physical attraction to that person..." or whatever.

- If you want an example of a character who is definitely ace but who also definitely has weird sex, it's Oscar the Grouch. I will not be accepting criticism. You know it's true.

#asexuality #aromanticism #(I feel like I oughta apologize for putting this post in those tags specifically for the Oscar comment)#writing #anonymous #ask #m #(I also apologize for the fact that TUMBLR BROKE MY READ MORE)

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buzzdixonwriter · 4 years

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My Five Most Influential

Someone asked: Who are the most influential writers in your life?

Good question.

The broad answer is that one gets influenced many different ways by many different sources. I enjoy poetry and song lyrics because they find ways of conveying the strongest emotional content in the most concise manner, music brings a sense of dramatic rhythm and fulfillment, the visual arts suggest ways of subtly adding many insights to a single strong idea, etc., etc., and of course, etc. (and that is also an example of a creative influence in my work).

But…to boil it down to those whom I most consciously made an effort to emulate, we find ourselves facing five creators that primed the pump.

This is not to say others whom I began following after them didn’t wield a lot of influence (thanx, Ernie, Bert, Jack, Bob, and Hank!) but these are the foundation of everything I’ve done in my career.

(And to those who notice a lack of diversity, I know, I know…but to be honest I have to acknowledge the truth, and the truth is for whatever reason, by chance or by choice, by fate or by fortune, these five dominated my sensibilities. I trust that I’ve grown and expanded my horizons since then, but they’re the hand I got dealt.)

. . .

Carl Barks

I loved ducks as a kid and my grandmother and aunt would always bring me a passel of duck-related comics when they came to visit.

There were some Daffy Duck comics mixed in there but while I know I looked at and enjoyed them, none of them stick in my mind like the Donald Duck and Uncle Scrooge stories of Carl Barks.

Typically my grandmother would read these comics to me and I’d imprint the dialog and captions in my brain, replaying them as I looked at the pictures over and over again.

Barks never wrote down to his audience, and his stories covered a vast array of genres, everything from straight domestic comedy to oddball adventures to screwy crime stories.

Donald and his nephews encountered dinosaurs more than once (another big favorite of mine), and Uncle Scrooge setting out to explore the asteroid belt in order to find a new home for his fabulous money bin was another tale I loved literally to pieces, but A Christmas For Shacktown remains my all time favorite graphic novel.

I’ll concede there are better graphic novels, but none of them warm my heart the way that Christmas story does.

Barks showed it’s possible to combine heart (not to be confused with sentimentality or =yuch!= schmaltz), vivid characters, and strong, intricate narrative. His plots where typically filled with unexpected twists and turns but his characters were always deeply involved in them, not just along for the ride.

He’s one of the greatest storytellers in the 20th century, and his work remains timeless enough to last for several centuries to come.

. . .

Ray Bradbury

The first Ray Bradbury story I remember encountering was “Switch On The Night” in its 1955 edition, read to my kindergarten class towards the end of the school year.

This would place the event sometime in the spring of 1959.

“Switch On The Night” captivated me because it was the first story I’d ever heard that showed what could be seen in the dark that couldn’t be seen in the day.

Even as a child, it made me realize the night wasn’t scary, but contained wonders and insights we miss in the harsh glare of day.

I don’t recall if the kindergarten teacher told us the name of the author, and if she did it didn’t stick, but boy howdy, the story sure did! Did it open the doors of the night for me, or was I already inclined to be a night person and it simply confirmed that as a valid identity?

I dunno, but I’m typing this right now at 12:24am.

And the thoughts Bradbury planted in little Buzzy boy’s brain stayed and grew and flowered, as you can read in my poem, “The Magic Hours Of The Night”.

The next time I encountered Ray Bradbury’s writing was in grammar school, certainly no later than junior high. I was already interested in science fiction by that point, and had read “The Pedestrian” in one of my school English books (we weren’t taught the story in class; the teacher skipped over it for whatever reason but I read it anyway then re-read it and read it again and again).

Anthony Boucher’s ubiquitous 2-volume A Treasury Of Great Science Fiction was in my grammar school library and in it was Bradbury’s “Pillar Of Fire” (which I would later learn was one of his alternate Martian Chronicles and a crossover with Fahrenheit 451) and in that story he offered up a veritable laundry list of outré and outlandish fiction to be tracked down and read, authors to dig up and devour.

Oh, man, I was hooked.

So of course I began looking for all the stories and writers Bradbury listed in his short story but I also began looking for Bradbury’s own work and before you could say, “Mom, can I get a subscription to the Science Fiction Book Club?” I’d read The Golden Apples Of The Sun and A Medicine For Melancholy and R is For Rocket never once dreaming that at some point in the future the roadmap Ray plopped down in my lap would eventually lead to us being co-workers (separate projects, but the same studio at the same time) and friends.

There is a beautiful yet deceptive simplicity to Ray’s work, and even though he wrote his own book on writing (The Zen Of Writing) that has lots of good insights and professional tricks & tips, he himself wasn’t able to explain how he did it.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a good Ray Bradbury parody.

I’ve seen parodies that clearly are intended to evoke Ray Bradbury, but only in the same way a clumsy older relative might evoke Michael Jackson with a spasmodic movement one vaguely recognizes as a failed attempt at a moonwalk.

But, lordie, don’t think we didn’t try to emulate him, and while none of us fanboys ever came close, I think a lot of us did learn that less is more, that the right word carries more impact than a dozen paragraphs, and that there’s magic in even the most ordinary of things.

And of course I discovered the film and TV adaptations of his work, and in discovering them I also discovered that there are some things that just can’t be translated from one media to another, and that the light, effortless appeal of Ray’s work on the page (paper or pixel) can at best be recaptured with a good audio book reader but even the best dramatic adaptions -- even those by Ray himself -- are cold dead iron butterflies compared to the light and lively creatures flying about.

So eventually I stopped trying to write like him, and instead picked up the valuable lessons of mood and emotion making an impact on a story even if the plot didn’t make much logical sense.

Decades later I would become a fan of opera, and would learn the philosophy of all opera lovers: Opera doesn’t have to make logical sense, it just has to make emotional sense.

Ray Bradbury, opera meister.

. . .

H.P. Lovecraft

As noted above, Bradbury’s “Pillar Of Fire” tipped me to numerous other writers, first and foremost of which turned out to be Howard Phillips Lovecraft.

Okay, before we get any further into this, let’s acknowledge the woolly mammoth in the room: H.P. Lovecraft was a colossal asshat racist.

He was a lot of other terrible things, too, but racist is far and ahead of the rest of the pack.

It’s a disillusioning thing to find people one admired as a youngster or a teen later prove to have not just quirks and eccentricities and personal flaws, but genuinely destructive, harmful, and offensive characters.

I’ve posted on that before, too.

How I wish it were possible to retroactively scale back that hurtfulness, to make them more empathetic, less egregiously offensive (in the military sense of the word), but that ain’t so.

We have to acknowledge evil when we see it, and we have to call it out, and we have to shun it.

Which is hard when one of its practitioners provides a major influence in our creative lives.

Here’s what I liked about Lovecraft as a kid: He was the complete opposite of Ray Bradbury.

Bradbury’s instinctive genius was in finding the right word, the simple word that conveyed great impact on the story, drawing the reader into the most fantastic situations by making them seem more familiar on a visceral level.

Lovecraft achieved the exact opposite effect by finding the most arcane, bedizened, baroque, florid, grandiloquent, overwrought, rococo verbiage possible and slapping the reader repeatedly in the face with it.

If Bradbury made the unreal real, Lovecraft made the weird even more weirder.

And let’s give this devil his due: The Strange Case Of Charles Dexter Ward and The Dunwich Horror are two masterpieces of horror and serve as the bridge between Edgar Allen Poe and Stephen King, not to mention his creation of Cthulhu and other ancient entities existing beyond the ken of human knowledge…

…oh, wait, that’s where the story simultaneously gets messy yet provides a convenient escape hatch for fans.

While Lovecraft created Cthulhu, he did not create the Cthulhu Mythos.

That was primarily the invention August Derleth, a writer / editor / agent and H.P. Lovecraft’s #1 fanboy.

Lovecraft had some loosely related ideas in his stories and several themes he revisited repeatedly (in addition to racism).

He also had a circle of fellow writers -- including such heavy hitters as Robert “Psycho” Bloch and Robert E. “Conan” Howard -- who picked up on his ideas and, as way of a tribute, incorporated them in some of their stories.

Derleth took all this and Lovecraft’s unfinished manuscripts and short ideas he jotted down and turned it into a whole post-mortem industry, linking all of Lovecraft and other writers’ tales.

And he did a damn fine job of it, too.

So much so that the Cthulhu Mythos has taken on a life of its own, and pretty much anybody can play in that cosmic sandbox now (including Big Steve King and a ton of Japanese anime) and so Lovecraft’s works have an enormous influence on pop culture…

,,,but Howard hizzowndamsef can be -- and is -- cancelled.

Derleth and various biographers downplayed Lovecraft’s virulent racism for decades, and I don’t think Ray Bradbury was ever aware of the scope and tenor of Lovecraft’s bigotry when he name checked him in “Pillar Of Fire” and other stories.

In a similar vein Bradbury didn’t know -- because thanks again to overly protective literary executors, nobody knew -- just how big a racist asshat Walt Whitman was, either. It is one thing to call shenanigans on a Bill Cosby or a Harvey Weinstein or a Donald Trump because their egregious behaviors were noted long before they were held accountable, but quite another to do so on a creator who died while hiding their most awful behavior from thousands if not millions of fans who felt inspired and uplifted by their work.

It’s one thing to call out a contemporary bigot and not support them by not buying their work, it’s quite another when their bigotry has been shielded from view and fair minded, decent people have used their work to draw inspiration into their own creativity.

Of course, I had no way of knowing all this when I was in junior high and seriously began tracking down Lovecraft’s work.

He possessed a flair of the horrific and unearthly that to this day is hard to match (but easier to parody). He was a tremendous influence on my early writing (truth be told, I zigzagged between Bradbury’s stark simplicity and Lovecraft’s overarching verbosity, giving my early oeuvre a rather schizophrenic style) and the ideas he sparked still reverberate to this day.

If only he hadn’t been such a giant %#@&ing asshat racist …

. . .

Harlan Ellison

In a way, I’m glad neither Harlan nor his widow Susan are alive to read this.

I cherished Harlan as a friend and greatly admired his qualities as a writer.

But damn, by his own admission he should have been thrown in prison for aggravated assault on numerous occasions (he was courts martialed three times while in the Army).

We’re not talking about arguments that spiraled out of control until a few wild punches were thrown, we’re talking about Harlan by his own admission stalking and ambushing people, knocking them unconscious or causing grievous bodily harm.

We’re talking about sexual abuse and humiliation.

We’re talking about incidents he admitted to which if true put people in life threatening situations.

And yet ironically, in a certain sense Harlan (a bona fide Army Ranger, BTW) was like the U.S. Marine Corps: You’d never have a greater friend or a worse enemy.

I became dimly aware of Harlan in the late 1960s as I started diving deeper into literary sci-fi, transitioning from monster kid fandom to digests and paperbacks. Harlan first caught my attention with his macho prose (years later a similar style also drew me to Charles Bukowski) in stories like “Along the Scenic Route” (a.k.a. “Dogfight on 101”) in which Los Angelinos engaged in Mad Max motor mayhem but soon it became apparent the macho posturing was just a patina, that the heart and soul of much of the work reflected great sensitivity and often profound melancholy (ditto Bukowski).

Harlan was a fighter, and again by his own admission, he acknowledged in his later years that he was not a fighter because his cause was just, but rather sought out just causes because he knew he would be fighting regardless of his position, yet possessed a strong enough moral compass to point himself in the direction of a worthy enemy…

…most of the time.

He hurt and offended a large number of innocent and some not-so-innocent-but-certainly-not-evil people.

He also helped and encouraged a large number of others, people who had no idea who he was, people who had no way of adequately reciprocating his kindness and generosity.

He defended a lot of defenseless people.

He also mistakenly defended a lot of terrible people.

If someone tells me Harlan was a monster, I’ll agree: Monstre sacré.

What made his writing sacred was that no matter how outlandish the situation, Harlan dredged up from the depths emotions so strong as to be frightening in their depiction.

Skilled enough not to lose sight of humanity, outlandish enough to conjure up ideas and emotions most people would shy away from, Harlan hit adolescent Buzzy boy like an incendiary grenade.

Unlike my first three literary influences, Harlan was and remained active in the fannish circles where I was circulating at the time. He regularly wrote letters and columns for various fanzines, including a few I subscribed to.

In a literary sense he stood, naked and unashamed, in full view of the world, and that willingness to go beyond mundane sensibilities is what made his work so compelling.

He certainly fired me up as an adolescent writer, and proved an amalgam of Bradbury and Lovecraft that got my creative juices flowing in a coherent direction.

I don’t think I ever consciously tried to imitate him in my writing, but I sure learned from him, both in how to charge a story with emotion and how to fight for what’s right regardless of the blow back.

I loved him as a friend.

But, damn, Harlan…you could act so ugly...

. . .

H. Allen Smith

Who?

Most of you have never heard of H. Allen Smith, and that’s a damn shame.

I’d never heard of him either until I stumbled across a coverless remaindered copy of Poor H. Allen Smith’s Almanac in a Dollar General Store bin in Tennessee in the late 1960s (it was a memorable shopping expedition: I also purchased Thomas Heggen’s Mister Roberts and Let’s Kill Uncle by Rohan O'Grady [pen name of June Margaret O'Grady Skinner]).

Reading Smith’s editorial comments (in addition to his own essays and fiction he edited numerous humor anthologies) I realized I’d found a kindred soul.

Smith had a very conversational tone as a writer; his prose seemed off the cuff and unstructured, but he slyly used that style to hide the very peculiar (and often perverse) path he led readers down.

He sounded / read like a garrulous guy at the bar, one with a huge number of charming, witty (and delightfully inebriated) friends in addition to his own bottomless well of tall tales, pointed observations, and rude jokes.

Of all the writers mentioned above, that style is the one I most consciously tried to emulate, and one I seem to have been able to find my own voice in (several people have told me I write the same way I talk, a rarity among writers).

Smith was hilarious whether wearing an editor’s visor or a freelancer’s fool’s cap. If you know who H. L. Mencken was, think of Smith as a benign, better tempered version of that infamous curmudgeon (and if you don’t know, hie thee hence to Google and find out).

Compared to my other four influences, Smith didn’t need to add the fantastic to his fiction: The real world was weird and wacky and whimsical enough.

A newspaper man turned best selling author, Smith became among the most popular humorists of the 1940s-50s-60s…

…and then he died and everybody forgot him.

Part of the reason they forgot is that he wrote about things that no longer seem relevant (TV cowboys of the early television era, f’r instance, in Mr. Zip) or are today looked upon askance (and with justifiable reason; the ethnic humor in many of his anthologies may not have been intended as mean spirited, but it sure doesn’t read as a celebration of other cultures, viz his succinct account of an argument following a traffic accident between two native Honolulu cabbies rendered in pidgin: “Wassamatta you?” “’Wassmatta me’?!?!? Wassamatta you ‘Wassamatta me’? You wassamatta!”).

I’m sure I picked up a great many faults from Smith, but Smith also had the virtue of being willing and able to learn and to make an effort to be a better person today than he was yesterday, and better still tomorrow.

I’ve certainly tried applying that to my life.

Smith’s style was also invoked -- consciously or not -- by other writers and editors, notably Richard E. Geis, the editor of the legendary sci-fi semi-prozone, Science Fiction Review (among other titles). Smith died before I could meet him, but while I never met Dick Geis face to face we were pen pals for over 40 years.

Geis certainly sharpened specific aspects of my writing style, but the real underlying structure came from H. Allen Smith.

Smith’s work is hard to find today (in no small part because whenever I encounter one in the wild I snap it up) but I urge you to give him a try.

Just brace yourself for things we might consider incorrect today.

. . .

So there’s my top five.

With the exception of Carl Barks and Ray Bradbury, none of them are without serious flaw or blemish (though Smith seems like a decent enough sort despite his fondness for X-rated and ethnic humor).

In my defense as an impressionable child / teen, I was not aware of these flaws and blemishes when I first encountered their writing (primarily because in many cases efforts were made to hide or downplay those aspects).

The positive things I gleaned from them are not negated by the negative personal information that came out later.

I can, for the most part re the more problematic of them, appreciate their work while not endorsing their behavior.

Ellison can only be described in extremes, but his fire and passion -- when directed in a positive direction -- served as a torch to light new paths (his two original anthologies, Dangerous Visions and Again, Dangerous Visions, pretty much blew the doors off old school sci-fi and belatedly dragged the genre kicking and screaming into the 20th century).

Lovecraft I can effectively ignore while finding entertainment value in the Cthulhu Mythos.

But I must acknowledge this isn’t the same for everyone.

For example, as innocuous as I find H. Allen Smith, if a woman or a member of a minority group said, “I found this in particular to be offensive” I’d probably have to say, yeah, you’re right.

But I can still admire the way he did it, even if I can no longer fully support what he did.

. . .

By the time I reached high school, I’d acquired enough savvy to regard to literary finds a bit more dispassionately, appreciating what they did without trying to literally absorb it into my own writing.

I discovered for myself the Beat generation of writers and poets, the underground cartoonists of the late 60s and 70s, Ken Kesey, Joseph Heller, Philip K. Dick, Ursula K. LeGuin, and a host of others, some already alluded to.

Some, such as the Beats and Bukowski, I could enjoy for their warts and all honest self-reflection.

Yes, they were terrible people, but they knew they were terrible people, and they also knew there had to be something better, and while they may never have found the nirvana they sought, they at least sent back accurate reports of where they were in their journeys of exploration.

By my late teens, I’d become aware enough of human foibles and weaknesses -- every human’s foibles and weaknesses, including my own -- to be very, very cautious in regarding an individual as admirable.

While I will never accept creativity as an excuse for bad behavior, if a creator is honest enough and self-introspective enough to recognize and acknowledge their own failings, it goes a long way towards my being willing to enjoy their work without feeling I’m endorsing them as individuals.

It’s not my place to pass judgment or exoneration on others bad behavior.

It is my place to see that I don’t emulate others’ bad behavior.

Every creator is connected to their art, even if it’s by-the-numbers for-hire hack work.

Every creator puts something of themselves into the final product.

And every member of the audience must decide for themselves if that renders the final product too toxic to be enjoyed.

#how this writer's mind works #writing #Carl Barks #Ray Bradbury #HP Lovecraft #Harlan Ellison #H Allen Smith #influences

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