i mean come on it's science fiction how can it get any better

Star-Girl

summary: anonymously requested:

hi!! I saw that your requests are open and I absolutely love your writing, I was wondering if you could one where the reader is a huge space nerd? I don’t really know where to take it plotwise but I do really like the whole build up thing, you’re very talented at capturing the emotions of an awkward boy with a crush haha :) I’m just a huge space nerd (I’m planning on becoming an astronaut) and I also am in love with peter parker. thank you!! sorry this ask was so long, I’m such an oversharer lol

(fluff)

word count: 3k

A/N: i fucking loved this request and boy howdy do i fucking love peter parker !
my requests are open and you can send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist !

my masterlist | my ask

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Fear the Reaper?

Alex: It’s always been fairly clear that death is, thematically speaking, the (un)beating heart of The Wicked + The Divine. So much so that it was the topic of the very first instalment of Tim + Alex Get TWATD, three long years ago. 

The book is dedicated to examining what death means, both for those sentenced to it and for those left behind. The latter I’ll save for another time – it’s a big topic, given half the cast are grieving the loss of a loved someone. 

The former was what interested the Alex of 2014, back when the gods’ deaths were a hypothetical. At the time, our guide to mortality and what it meant to the gods was Amaterasu. With issue #31, that’s cast in a very different light.

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One more thank-you short fic, for @whowaswillbe, who requested “ yoga seb, I’d love to see it being before they get together – Chris being completely transfixed by this gorgeous creature (and who could blame him?)”. I don’t really know *that* much about yoga, but they are both (relative) beginners here in any case, so…have some first-meeting Evanstan fluff!

##

Chris should be good at yoga. In theory. Given his flexibility.

He wobbles. Trying to do something called mountain pose. He’s not a good mountain. Or whatever.

He’s done gymnastics and ballet and improv theater classes. He knows how to move. Or he’s always more or less thought so.

He’s aware that this is not enough.

He’s also aware that at least half his problem, if not more, involves the utterly beautiful man just in front and slightly to the right of him. The man has duckling-soft brown hair, infinite legs, and an ass that exists in a state of loveliness which cannot be defined by words.

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Garish Room #28 [2017 ver. member A to Z case of Ruki] part 2

- No (work that you would not like to receive by being a member of the Gazette)

Ruki: Unexpectedly, there are so many questions that confuse me (laughs). What could it be? There are too many things and it is difficult for me to choose, but I absolutely can’t stand it when I notice something like how they make fun of the band. Though it didn’t yet happen that I was invited to such places (laughs). I don’t like to go out with someone together, and also I don’t go out to places which I don’t know well. Or those where I could get attention or something like that … well, since I’m invited to such places, I appreciate it, of course, but if I decide not to go out, I do it without any hesitation. Still, I don’t have such feelings that I don’t like the fact that the fans see me. Since if I look at them myself, it wouldn’t be cool, right?  But that’s strange, when we’re on the radio, I feel quite normal. For example, the request to send numerous stories for us was favorably received.

- Obtain (recently acquired thing that increased the intensity of sensations)

Ruki: …… There is no such. There are also no such things that I want at this moment.

- Picture (photo of the times Dainippon itan geisha)

Ruki: This time on the interview page I chose photos from the times of “Gama”, but this hat, there was not even one time that I put it at any performance. Since at that time there were so many cosplayers (which cosplayed it). Probably, it wasn’t difficult to make that hat, right? In fact, I was not going to choose a hat of this shape. Although I hoped for a smaller hat, in the end it turned out to be so huge. In addition, when we have finished, its size was about 2 times larger than in this photo. But having remade it a little, somehow we got this size. By the way, Reita, when it comes to choosing past photos, from a long time, he always says “this is 舐 ~ zetsu”, doesn’t he? (laughs)

- Question (things you are skeptical of)

Ruki: If I have to cite just one example, then I think that probably it will be “why in the films set a certain framework.” This is my personal impression, but it seems to me that Japanese films have become not interesting. Realistic scenes of murder do not show at all, right? But, for example, if we talk about Korean films, the image is very realistic there, right? I wonder why there is such a difference. Strictly speaking, I have an indie mentality, so I think something like “I wonder why it happened that this or that has become to sale this way?” I mean, if to remove all useless things, there will be many things which are rather intricate. Now the dramas are also quite uninteresting. What about “Nigehaji”? I watched it, but only one episode (laughs). Then I turned it off immediately. Once it became a hot topic of discussion, I wanted to see superficially what it is like. I thought that it probably should be interesting. So I felt “this is the so-called way of mass media to extol everything” or something like “don’t you think it’s pretty suspicious?” Then, this doesn’t very apply to “Nigehaji”, but is there really no tendency now to create what any fool can understand?  If this continues, then the ability to think will quickly run out, right?

-  Resistance (not subject to discussion part)

Ruki: I have a lot of things that I don’t concede to others (laughs). And I do not concede even in one thing. I am completely unyielding, but compared to past times, I think I became more tolerant towards the fans. Earlier, when they told me something, I was, on the contrary, absolutely adamant. It also happened that I was viciously behaving. Now I think that, of course, there is something that I want to do by myself, but it is also our duty to make everything understandable to others, and bring it to them.

- Sexy (a favorite part of the female body and gestures that excite the feelings of men) 

Ruki: Before I used to prefer when they were pretty nude, but now I like it better when not naked (laughs). But nevertheless recently I didn’t feel something like “as for me, it’s sexy.”  Already quite a long time, looking at the actresses or something like that, I felt something like that, and it used to happen that I thought “well, she’s not bad.”

-  Treasure  (treasures that you really  appreciate)

Ruki: Well, it probably all comes down to the band. When the main feelings become in the style of “to sacrifice everything”, I think that’s how it is. 

- Under ( kohai, which you accept)

Ruki: Now there isn’t particularly anyone about whom I’d think something like “oh, they are cool!”.

- Violence (episodes when you were very angry)

Ruki: Was there something …? I was angry with the manager, who is no longer with us, if I really need to mention something, then let it be. Other members, I wonder what they will say? In my case, it seems like there was no such case when I would be angry until unconscious.

- Warning (what do you pay attention to in your daily life) 

Ruki: I am aware of the fact that whenever possible I have conversations with other personalities. When you do such kind of work, there are also times when you have to communicate very closely, so from a certain time, I tried not to communicate in this style. In any case, first of all I try to understand the feelings of my casual interlocutor. And even if I get angry, I do it exactly because I digest what they’ve said (laughs). It also happens that I can accept it. Next, what I try to follow is to stop expressing myself in such a way as to attract the anger of others (laughs). Also, every day I try to get up on time. I set the alarm on the phone to ring about 10 times for 1 hour before I need to get up, but I turn off all of them completely.  It was also that after answering “yeah” to the manager, who had already arrived and was waiting for me in front of the house, I immediately fell asleep again (laughs). Earlier, Aoi was also often late, but now me and Uruha are two main culprits.

- X-factor (what would you like to try to do in the future that you never did before)

Ruki: Surprisingly now there is no anything like this, because almost every time I want to do something, it turns out. However, something as I’d like to try a bungee jumping, I definitely haven’t such wishes.

-  Yesterday  (what did you do yesterday, from the moment when you woke up before you went to bed)  

Ruki: Yesterday I didn’t wake up in the morning. It happened at night. And then I watched a lot of films at home. There was South Korean film starring Bung-hun Lei, but this movie was boring and so I got angry (laughs). Ah, that question about what made me angry is just about that, isn’t it? In Korean movies I like to find something hard (violent), and I like films with high average score. In my list there are also action movies, in which there is a chase of something unusual, and in which they consider social problems, or films recommended to me by good people. I don’t watch something like science fiction and anime. Something like “Avatar” and his glowing eyes, this style is a little off to me (laughs). I watched “Batman”, but couldn’t “Spiderman”. Most of all I like things close to dark themes. In general, I watch a lot of movies, and since the beginning of this year I already watched about 6 films. [* interview was Jan, 06]

-  Zero (what you would like to get rid of)

Ruki: For example, unpleasant incidents, they quite strongly affect me. What I did myself doesn’t hurt me at all, but if someone does something to me, it hurts me a lot (laughs).  Therefore, there are many such things. When I think that I screwed up in the video, it offends me, because I want to do it well. Well, we have to do everything so that this won’t happen. And it was that I, altering everything, corrected the video I had already shot in the middle of the night. In this I was pursued by that “part of me that doesn’t concede to anyone”.

translated from japanese to russian by shimizu_ran.vk for the_gazette_quotes.vk

translated from russian to english by me

as always thx for reading and sorry for mistakes ^^

anonymous asked:

Now that transactivists are straight up lying reversing the situation in London to make it look like WE were the violent ones, what are we supposed to do? Is there any way to clear our name?

I saw that some British radfems have been writing to the mainstream media outlets who wrote biased articles about it (to protest the fact that they mindlessly labelled the women ‘TERFs’ for ex, as if TERFs were a legit political group that exists), but it feels like screaming into the void. When there’s a video of the woman being attacked and yet thousands of people choose to pretend she was the attacker, there’s not much that can be done. It’s like all those “debates” about biological sex - you can have all the sound science and peer-reviewed studies (and sheer obviousness re: how babies are made) on your side and it won’t do any good when the other side has already decided from the start that anything you say is false and worthless because you’re the bad guys and that’s how it works.

When one side is arguing with facts and following the rules of normal logical reasoning, and the other side does whatever it wants, well - it’s pigeon chess. I remember several articles using this metaphor to describe the 2016 US election; and the disconcerted frustration and hopelessness radfems feel wrt trans activists’ tactics remind me of people’s reactions to Trump’s behaviour during the election.
I remember an article from the early days of the campaign describing how Trump’s constant stream of bullshit and lies led to some sort of fact-checking fatigue (or bullshit-detection fatigue), the easy way out of which is simply to decide that everything and everyone is bullshit, which ends up hurting all of Trump’s political opponents and being good for him.
After the incident at Speaker’s Corner, trans activists were simultaneously claiming that the whole thing was completely made up by TERFs and never happened; that trans activists attacked the woman first but she provoked them; that the woman attacked transwomen first for no reason—sometimes several contradictory claims in the same post or twitter thread. The fact that radfems stuck to their one and only version (that the woman was attacked as she was just taking pictures) makes no difference to an ‘outside’ person who sees all these different contradictory claims and ends up deciding that everyone is full of shit, or that the truth is probably ~somewhere in the middle~ and therefore violence from all sides should be condemned. 

And even beyond the pigeon chess tactic (edit: and the Gish gallop tactic, thanks @theoldlesbianwithcats​ for the new term!) and the lying in order to further demonise terfs, there’s a lot of lying happening for the sake of lying - this is a movement spearheaded by narcissistic losers, and they must get the same power rush for saying the woman attacked first when there’s a video proving she didn’t, as they do for being accepted as lesbians when they are straight men. I remember an article in which a Russian journalist said that Trump and Putin don’t lie because they don’t want to tell the truth, they lie to assert their power over reality. They lie like bullies, in order to rub it in your face that they have the power to say whatever they want and you can’t do anything about it.
A lot of the think pieces that were written analysing Trump during his campaign can easily be applied to the situation with trans activists. Trump is the President that personifies the post-truth era and transgenderism is the social movement that makes the best use of it.

(From the Guardian) “ Thanks to – among other things – the democratising effect of the internet, the resultant decline in deference to experts, rising scorn for the political establishment, the tendency of social media to lock us in our echo chambers where our ill-founded opinions are confirmed rather than challenged, the blurring of fact and fiction online (a problem recognised in 1995 by the late journalist John Diamond who wrote: “The problem with the internet is everything is true”), we live in a post-truth era.
But what is post-truth? In 2016, Oxford Dictionaries chose post-truth as its word of the year, defining it as shorthand for “circumstances in which objective facts are less influential in shaping public opinion than appeals to emotion and personal belief”. ”

I’m not sure what could be done about it, because the problem isn’t necessarily that radfems aren’t being heard (and definitely not that they aren’t arguing their points well enough), it’s that objective facts and rational arguments carry no weight whatsoever with people who have already accepted you as evil quasi-Nazis, as it means groupthink and confirmation bias will be much more significant factors when it comes to deciding what is real and what is not. 

That’s one of the reasons why I roll my eyes at radfems who waste their time insisting that TERF isn’t a slur - even beyond the fact that from a lesbian’s perspective it’s indistinguishable from other lesbophobic slurs, there’s the fact that the incredibly negative connotations of the word play a crucial role in preventing women from shaping public opinion on sex/gender. Trans males have built this perfect tool to justify violence against women and ensure that their allies unquestioningly block out the arguments made by dissenting women. I mentioned at the beginning some radfems writing to media outlets to protest the uncritical use of ‘TERF’ - I think the energy spent on arguing that it isn’t a slur would be much better spent on explaining to clueless people what “TERF’ is and how it works.
(Although as I said, the problem isn’t really that people are clueless or that these things aren’t being explained enough, it’s mainly that all of this is very convenient. The trans movement is extremely convenient to a lot of different people for a different reasons. So is the word TERF.)

Blackout

Eleven x Reader

Request: Anon: could I have a 11 x reader with the prompts 36 & 40 please ? thank you !!! X

Hello!! I went a little long on this one, but I hope you enjoy it! There is a bit of a cliff hanger, so a part two may be a possibility….;) Thanks so much for requesting! Much love! xoxo

Title: Blackout

Word Count: 4,715


“Only five more minutes…” You groaned as you looked at your small black watch that laid gently on your wrist. You continued to take books off of the large stack piled next to you and placed them in their respective spots on the shelves alphabetically as you impatiently waited for closing time. It had been a long week, and all you wanted to do was go home, drink a few beers, cuddle with your dog, all the while watching some Dateline. As you thought of your evening plans, you heard the sharp jingle of the bell at the front door that indicated someone had come into your bookshop. You’ve got to be kidding me, the sign says we close soon. You thought to yourself, placing the book in your hand back onto the stack. “Hello! So sorry, but as the sign says, we close at six tonight. I’ll be open on Monday again.” You hollered out as you made your way through the maze of stacks and shelves to the front of the shop. As you turned the corner, you realized you were talking to an empty room and you felt your ears perk up for any sounds of another person present in your space. “Hello?” You called around, going up and down the science fiction, and romance sections. “Alright, look. I’m closing shop, and I’d like to not lock you in here, but I will and call the cops if I have to.” You stated, coming back up to the front awaiting an answer. But there was only silence. Your frustration was rising as you looked about your immediate area. “Alright buddy, whoever you are, I am really wanting to get out if here. You have five seconds to show yourself, and then we can just get out and continue our evenings. If I get down to zero you’re going to wish you hadn’t waited until I found you. Five…four…” You threatened, continuing to look behind stacks and shelves. “Three…two….” You continued, looking behind your cashier desk, grabbing the bat you hid underneath it. Usually in instances like this, it was just a homeless person trying to find a warm place, or some kid trying to pull a prank. Never anything malevolent, but you usually weeded them out by three. “Two and a half!” You yelled, as you cautiously turned another corner, ready to strike the intruder. You jumped as you heard a book fall off a stack a few aisles over, and spun to face the noise. You gripped the bat tighter, and quietly made your way to the history section of your store hoping to surprise whoever was hiding there. “ONE!” You shouted, bat above your head and ready to strike. “WHOA! Oi! It’s alright! I’m not here to hurt you!!” 

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Killian Jones and the Girl Who Lived 3/8

Thank you to everyone who has been reading this story. I’m loving all the feedback I’m getting. (And we all know, Margaret LIVES for feedback.) Can’t wait to see what y’all think of this one. As I have no idea what access I’ll have to my computer on Sunday (combination of being out of town and in the path of a hurricane), I’m pre-scheduling this chapter, just to be sure. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get it up on FF.net and Ao3 on Sunday, I’m going to try to get it set up so I can do everything off of mobile, but I’m not sure. If you’ve subscribed on either site, I promise I’ll be getting it up there ASAP.

Edit: Now up on FF.net & Ao3.

A grateful shout out to my wonderful beta, @icecubelotr44 and my two talented artists @prongsie and @jemmingart.

Summary: Every young witch or wizard’s first year at Hogwarts is life-changing, but Killian doesn’t know just how life-changing it will be until he meets Emma Swan. OUAT/Harry Potter AU following Killian and Emma’s first year.

Word Count: 6.5k

Rating: G

First Chapter | Previous Chapter


Chapter Three: Cauldrons & Corridors

“I still can’t believe that ghosts don’t get to eat anything,” David said as Nearly Headless Nick floated by during breakfast. “That sounds awful.”

“If you ask me,” Mary Margaret replied under her breath, “them floating around while we’re trying to eat is awful.”

“At least Peeves isn’t here. Yet,” David said, heaping hot sauce onto his eggs.

The other three nodded solemnly, though Killian couldn’t tell if the disgusted look on Mary Margaret’s face was due to Peeves or the state of David’s breakfast.

They had been at Hogwarts for a week and today was the first that all four of them got down to breakfast without getting lost. Hogwarts had one hundred and forty-two staircases—Killian read that in Hogwarts, A History, he wasn’t crazy enough to count all those staircases—that were always changing and doors that didn’t open unless you asked the right way. As far as Killian could tell, everything moved around and you could leave a class to find yourself in a completely different hallway than when you entered.

The classes weren’t too bad, though History of Magic was as boring as could be, especially since Professor Binns taught word for word from the same copy of Hogwarts, A History as Liam—and now Killian—owned. Killian had a feeling that the Professor Binns being a ghost had a lot to do with that—that and the fact that history probably didn’t change all that much.

His lack of magical experience hadn’t turned out to be much of a problem. Many of his classmates, including Emma, came from Muggle families and knew even less than he did. No one mocked him for not knowing any of the spells normal wizard children learned growing up. Well, no one that mattered.

Keep reading

The Crown weighs heavy (Ch.1)

Warnings: Attempted rape.
Rating: M for now


A/N: I haven’t written fan fiction in years guys. Like almost a decade lol So be gentle. I do not have a beta as I don’t know anyone on here…I am new to Tumblr and have no idea how to work it quite yet. So, hopefully I’m doing this correctly. I intend to post this on archive of our own once I get an account. It’s on fan fiction.net though! Ok! Please review if you somehow come across this lol

MASTER LIST


_________________________________________________


Chapter one


“Hiiiiiiii, Mom! Don’t worry, Logan and I are safe and sound. Our plane just landed. Hawaii is so beautiful already!”

The camera panned to the airport window, showing the expanse of the island. Ocean water shining brightly against the morning light. You smiled to yourself. Fond memories flooding back to you as you watched that video. God, it had been so long since that day. Unbeknownst to you at the time it would be the last vacation you ever took. Shortly after arriving back home in California, the fall of mankind would take place. And life as you knew it would change forever. You would find yourself traveling with your younger brother throughout the states, until you managed to take up with some group you met. It wasn’t ideal, but it became your family for a short while. Until, like all things in this new world, it was gone. And so was Logan.

“And before you ask, mom, no we haven’t eaten yet. In fact, Y/N was just about to go buy us some breakfast.”

You were brought back to reality when you heard the sound of your brother’s voice. You laughed as the camera went fuzzy. The all too familiar sibling struggle for the camera. You could faintly hear your voices, obviously arguing about whose turn it was to buy food. When the camera finally settled again, you saw your brother’s face. His blue eyes glinting with victory, and before the next words left his mouth the screen went black. You scoffed, and threw your phone to the side. Annoyance filling you as the battery charge died. You were lucky enough to get it to charge to begin with, having found all the supplies you needed to make a decent electrical source at the hospital you were currently sheltered in. Thank god for seventh grade science experiments. Unfortunately, those sources never last long but you were grateful for them none the less. It let you back into your old life for a change. Much happier times before everything went to shit. But, what made it more precious was the chance to hear your little brother’s voice again, and see his face again. If it weren’t for those few times you could see that video, you feared you’d forget him all together. His face would turn into a distant memory and that was something you couldn’t have.

A sigh escaped your lips, and you summoned the energy to lift your body. Leaning lazily against the wall of the hospital room as you grabbed for your bag and phone. It was much heavier than before, but you couldn’t complain. You managed to get a good amount of meds and bandages this time around. Thankful the place wasn’t cleaned out like the rest of them.

“Count your blessings, Y/N.” You spoke aloud, throwing the bag over your shoulder as you walked out the room and into the hallway. The journey out of the hospital was mostly uneventful. Save for a few walkers that you had to put out of their misery. By the time you made it out of the building the sun was starting to set and you knew by the time you got to your home it would be nightfall. A dangerous prospect. Traveling in the dark now days was basically a death wish. But really, was anything truly safe now days?

You opted to chance the journey home, and you hummed mindlessly to yourself as you balanced your feet on the train tracks. Straight shot from here, and then a quick jog through the forest and there you would be. Home. It wasn’t anything perfect by any means. Just a basic farm house out in the middle of nowhere. You chanced upon it one day on a run into the city, finding a couple of walkers behind its doors but nothing too difficult to deal with. You would guess you’ve been there a couple of months now, and you made it your own. Decorating it with whatever you found out on your runs, filling its cabinets and shelves with food and supplies necessary for survival. It was something to look forward to everyday. Knowing there was always something to come back to.

You emerged from the forest and smiled in relief at the sight of the house. Gripping your bag tighter in your hands as you built up a jog, eager to be inside its safer walls. Once inside you flung your bag to the floor and opened it up as you began to put away today’s haul. Mentally taking stock of everything you had. You got to the cloth and bin you took from the hospital, and walked over to your fireplace as you began to heat some water up. It wasn’t exactly a bubble bath, but something was better than nothing. After you bathed yourself you changed into different clothes, opting for a gray loose tank, thin cardigan and some black jeans and boots before heading to bed. It sounded completely pointless to sleep in shoes, but it was peace of mind. Anything can happen while you slept, and if you ever needed to run you were ready. You walked up the steps to the second story, pushing your bedroom door open and practically throwing yourself onto your bed. It wasn’t perfect, but compared to the outside it was heaven. You closed your eyes and brushed your H/C hair out of your face, feeling that all too familiar sense of heaviness as your mind drifted off to sleep.


_______________________________________________

You awoke to the sound of a large bang, your heart instantly picking up its pace. You launched yourself out of the bed, ducking next to it.

“Shit, shit shit….” You mumbled. Panic was beginning to set in, but you knew you had to suck it up. You hunched there as quietly as you could for what seemed like hours. Listening for any signs of danger around you. You picked up voices, disappointment flooding through your body knowing fully well whoever they were, they weren’t here to play nice. You could make out at least two different voices, both men. For the moment they were too far off to be audible. That gave you some hope, and you took that chance. You slowly crawled over to your bedroom door, peeking outside for any movement. Whoever was downstairs had some form of light as you could faintly make out some silhouettes running along the stairwell. You made your way outside, hiding on the opposite side of the stairs so you could have a clear view of anyone who decided to come up.

“Hey, Dan!! Looks like we got us a nice haul tonight! Get in this fucking kitchen and look at all this shit!”

You heard one of the voices call out. That was your shit, and you could feel anger begin to rise inside you. You worked hard to get all that stuff, and you’d be damned if you lost it to some scavenging dicks. You waited until one of them began ascending the stairs, your combat knife slowly being pulled from your boot. You knew what you had to do, and this wouldn’t be the first time you had to kill. But, regardless it was always a mental preparation for you. This is your world now. You watched as a brunette man turned the stair case, his gun up in defense mode. He was ready to kill, but unfortunately for him you saw him first. You rushed at him, catching him off guard and before he could scream of even shoot, your blade was in his head. His body slumped to the floor with a rather loud thump, and you mentally cursed yourself.

“Dan! You alright, man?”

Fuck. You tore your knife from his body, not bothering to wipe it clean as you ran back into your room, hiding behind the door as you heard footsteps rush upstairs when no answer was received from his friend. He found him…

“Fucking shit!” You heard the other man yell, and then it just got worse from there. You heard the sound of a radio going off, and his voice rang through the hall.

“We ain’t alone in here! Ther-“Before he could finish his sentence you pulled the door open and went for him, lucky enough to slash a decent gash into his throat. His blood splashed onto your face and clothes, and you stood there in a panic. There were others nearby then. And it was just you, and that was enough to make you regret even attacking these men. You were good in combat, years of practice will do that to you, but you were still just one girl. Unless they intended to come after you one by one, you were fucked. You heard more footsteps enter your house, and a bunch of radio chatter. This was it, you were trapped. Your instincts kicked in, and you rushed into your bedroom as footsteps pressed upstairs. At this point the window was your saving grace, and you cursed yourself for having bolted them all shut at the beginning. You turned to look back at the door, hearing those footsteps getting closer. It was now or never. You jumped forward, breaking the glass as your body launched onto the slanting roof outside. Sandpapery shingles scraping into the soft skin of your abdomen as you tried to gain your footing. Luck wasn’t on your side though.

A strong hand grabbed your ankle, yanking you back into the window, broken glass pressing into your side. You yelped in pain as it cut through you like nothing, blood pooling into your shirt. The same hands gripped the back of your cardigan tightly, pulling you back into the room and onto the floor. The force was so hard you felt disoriented for a second, ears ringing loudly as two men surrounded you. A hard kick was put into your side making you scream out in pain.

“This little bitch killed Dan, and Thomas?!” One of them yelled out, his hand tangling in your H/C tresses as he jerked you up onto the bed. Your breathing was shallow, pain coursing through your small frame from the cuts and kicks. You wiggled your way up on the bed, trying to regain any composure you had, but two hands grabbed your wrists and pulled them down keeping you situated. You realized this was a second man, and your E/C eyes gazed up in fear. You heard both men laugh, and the one who grabbed you earlier spoke in an amused voice.

“Loooook at this one…I didn’t think they made women like this anymore.” You watched as he licked his lips, eyes slowly feasting over your body. Disgust pooled in your stomach, as you knew that look all too well. Hell, even before shit hit the fan, men would leer at you like that. You tried to struggle with them, thrashing your body and kicking as much as you could. The fat one in front of you only chuckled at your attempts, and he placed himself between your legs, restricting your movement.

“You know, Craig, I think you and I deserve a little treat, huh? I mean, after all she put us through.” He blew a kiss at you, finding amusement in the way you turned your face in disgust. Whatever happened you weren’t just going to go down easy. You did your best to fight them off, but the one called ‘Craig’ held you down harder by the wrists, grinning down at you as the fat one ripped your shirt open eyeing your breasts with such hunger it revolted you. His hand reached for your bra next, and you screamed at him to stop. That only elicited some chuckles from them, clearly they had no intention of stopping. Your chest was heaving up and down in distress, eyes watering over as you felt powerless. You tried your hardest to move your legs, or arms but all for nothing.

Then a click from their radio…

“Craig, Parker, did you find the occupant?”

Parker growled in annoyance, taking his radio up from his holster and replying, “Yea, taking care of it right now.”

“Well, hurry the fuck up and come back down….Boss just got here.”

At that both men set into a rushed panic, letting go of your legs and wrists in favor of dragging you by the collar of your shirt. You kicked at the floor, struggling to get free but they held on tighter. They spewed threats your way, trying to get you to lessen your fight. Once outside, you found yourself surrounded by over a dozen men. The sound of vehicles and talking filled the air, and once off the porch your body was flung to the ground right in front of a large light that seemed to be coming from the RV parked in front. You dragged yourself across the dirt, nails digging into the soft soil as you tried your hardest to lift your aching body. Parker grabbed your sweater, lifting you into a kneeling position facing the RV. He leaned down and whispered in your ear, a move which made you turn your head as far as possible. He was a repulsive man.

“Ooooh, you’re gonna get it now, girl. Negan don’t like when you ruin things for him. Makes him mad, see?”

You ducked your head, taking in his words as you tried to catch your breath. It was getting harder to move, harder to fight back. The pain from your gash was pulsing through you, and the bruising from the kicks wasn’t helping either. The pain was making you dizzy, and your vision was beginning to blur. The only thing keeping you conscious was the constant shaking of your body, fear washing over it as the RV door swung open.

TBC (most likely)

purequeenoftheimpure  asked:

Hi! I really like your analysis of the lords, and I just wanted to ask if you had done one on Ieyasu? I've read fics about him, but really don't know much about him as I haven't done his MS, but I'm kinda curious as fics make him out to be kinda complex. What was he like in the sengoku era? What would he be like in modern times? What would his occupation in modern times be? Sorry if it's too long or bothersome :)

 THANK U I APPRECIATE… though sometimes i’m just rambling like no other out here LMFAOOO

Hm… Y’know, I mention Ieyasu a whole lot, but I don’t think I’ve actually done a proper analysis on him before–which is kind of a bummer, because he’s actually one of my favorites! The fics you’re reading have it right, and I’d argue he’s one of the most complex and layered characters in the game. He’s got quite a bit going on in that past of his and it shows really well that he’s basically a product of his experiences–cruel and distrusting because of the things he has gone through. Of course, that doesn’t excuse all of the horrible things that he does, but it does put a different perspective on the way he is and how that manifests in his personality as of now. He plays a very good villain, too, I’ll tell you that. I also think he’s one of the most consistently written characters, which I can appreciate like no other thank god.

Though while I’ll say he’s one of my favorites, and can also easily admit that he’s also a super polarizing character, too. People either really love him or really hate him, and I get both sides of that–so I think enjoyment of his route and character will really depend on your taste, too.

In terms of what he’s like in the Sengoku era… well, in real life, I’ve seen that he’s been said to have been bold and calculating, and was fairly well-known and respected for those traits. From what I know, he seems like a great warlord and politician–or well, he knew what he was doing, anyway LOL. Knew how to be loyal when necessary and very much waited to come into power… also could be cruel and merciless when he felt like it. A lot of fiction has habit of making him very kind and humble, though I have a feeling that stems from some Edo fanfiction too… (but don’t quote me on that LMAO). 

In the SLBP universe, Ieyasu’s… pretty nasty LMFAO. Easily takes on those cruel and merciless traits mentioned above, and he’s very two-faced all together. His cunning is pretty much unmatched, and he’ll smile his way through everything with every ounce of coldness you could possibly imagine–they even call him a “Lord with a Poison Smile” in game. Almost is as good with keeping up his sadistic streak as he is as kissing ass, and the ruse works well for him. And of course, he doesn’t trust anyone but his retainer, Sakai Tadatsugu, because the world has taught him it’s absolutely foolish. He’s bratty, intelligent, resourceful, and has the worst mouth on him, but you’ll quickly see more sides to him in his own route that execute his loyalty and desires for the softer things in life. MC, as per otome formula, will bring those things out herself LOL. 

Modern times I feel would depend on his upbringing, but since I think he’s more likely to have a more stable life with the average kind of home in modern society, he’d be a lot more toned down. Probably still A Huge Dick, but like… not outright cruel or, y’know, threatening your life all the time LMFAO. I also like to imagine Ieyasu having a better sense of humor here (since he can afford to have one) and though he doesn’t trust easily, he more so has this small, tight knit group of friends than anything else. Still ridiculously smart and resourceful–he would get into trouble all the time if anyone ever believed his Angel Face could cause any harm. I’d call it like… a much more lighthearted version of himself LOL. He’s still mean, though, because who would Ieyasu be at heart, otherwise?

I’ve said once before I could see him as a politician, but… I kind of think he’d be some kind of nerd in the science field. Probably chemistry. LOL

ive found some more possible petekey evidence

so this is part of an entry from july 21, 2005 on pete’s personal livejournal

so all of this is super duper cute and fluffy and pete seems really in love with whoever he’s writing about, right?

why would this be about mikey? well…

x’d out on a calendar”

one of the songs that have been speculated to be about mikey is panic! at the disco’s “the calendar” (put another “x” on the calendar, summer’s on its deathbed) 

it also talks about certain futures (it’s always “when we’s” and never “if we’s”), something that pete and mikey never had, thanks to the fact that summer doesn’t last forever.

then, we go onto this one from july 26..

it’s a lot sadder, so i’m guessing that pete and mikey must have broken up in between july 21 and july 26th. but why would these even be about mikey? let’s see:

they’ve gotta be science fiction cause how else can you have a monster fall in love with a boy with no heart? actually i’m pretty sure you have a heart..”

whoever pete’s writing about = boy

we lit a fire that was nothing but smoke and hot air. ashes.”

you and i were fireworks that went off too soon..

in the middle here, pete talks a lot about how love is basically stupid, where just five days before he was saying how in love he was with someone. 

i’m just loose words hanging on the ends of your lips, even looser when i’m anywhere near your hips.”

the only thing i can directly relate this to is bang the doldrums (happily ever after below the waist) but WOW CAN WE TALK ABOUT GAY

and then ‘i’m sorry,’ too late”

oh, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean any of it (fourth of july)

pete mentions phone calls in this, something that he also mentions in bang the doldrums (i couldn’t bring myself to call, except to call it quits) and g.i.n.a.s.f.s. (some nights it gets so bad i almost pick up the phone)

i don’t tell you my insecurities so you can use them against me, but help me get over them.”

in february of 2005, pete attempted suicide. by the time warped rolled around in june, he had probably just started becoming more stable. since mikey was pete’s best friend during warped, pete probably opened up to him at some point (lyrics from g.i.n.a.s.f.s. “you saved my life”) and mikey might have helped him feel better.

i’m not really sure exactly what mikey did to pete that made pete so bitter, but it’s understandable that pete was upset (it was a doomed relationship and pete fell harder than he intended to, after all), but the lyrics that come to mind are “i’m starting forget what summer ever meant to you” and “sometimes before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger, the person that you’d take a bullet for is behind the trigger”

tl;dr: pete wentz was really in love with mikey way and then shit got fucked up and he was sad

A list of sci-fi cliches to avoid like the plague

  • Lazer guns that are literally only about as effective as actual guns that shoot metal bullets but are inherently cooler because they shoot lazers. Please note that if your futuristic weapons are basically the same as our current weapons but they look cooler, they’re probably useless. I’m not saying lazer guns in and of themselves are bad and you shouldn’t use them–I’m saying that while scientists may someday invent lazer guns just for the sake of imitating sci-fi, they won’t become commonly-used weapons unless they’re better than our already-existing guns.

  • So-called “aliens” that look exactly like humans but with unnaturally-colored hair/skin/eyes and maybe horns or tails. It’s okay for your aliens to be mildly humanoid (eg. bipedal, similar genitalia, similar very basic body structure), but if they’re exactly like humans except with color differences and extra appendages, or maybe way taller/shorter, they’re not really alien. Think “natural selection.” What genetic mutations in these aliens would help them adapt to the conditions on their planet? If their planet is similar to Earth, then they might be humanoid. If it’s nothing like Earth, than what reason do they have to look exactly like humans?

  • Any alien race that is technologically advanced must be snooty and must always use the insult “primitive apes” to refer to humans. First of all, if these aliens are really as intelligent and advanced as they claim to be, than they should know that humans are not apes; we are related to apes. We don’t call birds dinosaurs, at least not seriously, because we understand that just because they’re related doesn’t make them the same. These aliens should be able to explain why humans are primitive to them, not just brush us off with a sneer of “you primitive apes wouldn’t understand.” This makes the “advanced” aliens look pretty stupid.

  • So-called “aliens” that have evolved in completely different conditions but have the same morals and ethics as 21st century western humans. If mean! Not even every culture on Earth has the same morals! So if two cultures separated by only an ocean can think completely differently, why can’t two cultures separated by entire solar systems? A culture revolving entirely around war shouldn’t have rules of “honorable combat” or see anything wrong with sending children to the battlefield. A culture of natural telepaths shouldn’t even be able to grasp the concept of verbal language, let alone naturally speak human languages.

  • Every futuristic and/or alien weapon has to have a crazy incoherent and probably scientifically inaccurate name like ‘quantom atomic decacanon.’ If you can come up with scientific names for weapons that are actually scientific terms describing the weapon acurately, then by all means, but don’t expect all of your characters to call it that either. Weapons have nicknames. Nobody in Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs calls the FLDSMDFR (the Flint Lockwood Diatomic Super-Mutating Dynamic Food Replicator) by its full name, and they even get the acronym wrong on multiple occasions.

  • It’s five-hundred years in the future but everyone still has the exact same morals and ethics and taboos and religions. Our morals have, in real life, changed over the past decade. That’s only ten years. So why should it be the exact same in five-hundred? Times change, and they change quickly. Religions die out, and new ones appear. Groundbreaking scientific discoveries are made. Cultures disappear. The human race should be psychologically different in five-hundred years.

  • It’s five-thousand years in the future but all life on earth still looks the same and hasn’t evolved at all! I don’t essentially mean super-noticably, either. But for some reason, in the future, average height and weight and build all stay the same. People haven’t gotten taller, or shorter, or lighter, or heavier, or thinner, fatter, more or less muscular, etc. Specific hair colors, skin tones, eye colors, etc, haven’t become more or less common. What if, in the future, average height doesn’t vary by sex? Or what if men look more feminine on average? What if, because beauty standards have changed so much, people are heavier on average because nobody spends a desperate amount of time and money trying to lose weight? The same applies to animals and plants, too. They should change a bit as well.

  • Aliens have the same beauty standards and gender roles as 21st century western humans. Do you really think a completely war-oriented alien race whose minds and bodies are hardwired for the military are going to think big boobs are attractive? Or care what gender you identify as, as long as you can serve your tribe/clan/group/house/whatever? Do you really think a super-lazy and completely pacifistic alien race who don’t fight or do any physical labor are going to find big prominent muscles attractive, when they have no reason to think of physical strength as important or desirable?

  • Aliens are all either snooty “you primitive apes” advanced humanoids or crazed “war is glorious” murder-aliens. And ne’er the two shall meet, either. There are no lazy laid-back aliens, no silly comedian aliens, no humans who are on about the same level as humans but with different values. They’re all either military or uptight scientists. What about an alien race who are scientifically advanced and hardwired for the military? They could be forced to advance quickly to preserve themselves because of the war. Or snooty uptight aliens who are less advanced than humans! They could be too stupid to realize they’re actually the primitive ones, in the same way that a young child will always insist they’ve won an argument with their parent because they can’t really grasp the parent’s argument or the superior reasoning of it yet.

  • Humans are capable of interstellar travel but there are no human-alien hybrids or human colonies on other planets. I mean, that’d kind of be an interstellar-scale version of real-life globalization. People traveled to other countries anad they made colonies, and had kids with the locals, and cultures intermingled and borrowed from each other. More of that in sci-fi, please! Interstellar globalization! Fuck yeah!
     
  • Humans are the only species in the universe with half-decent diplomatic manners. If we want to make contact with aliens, we approach their ships politely and announce ourselves clearly and ask their permission to come aboard. If aliens want to make contact with us, they capture us, or shoot at us until we ask them what they’re doing, or kidnap some of us and demand our authorities meet with them or else. How about diplomatic aliens who understand humans as well as we understand them? 

  • Aliens’ moral codes are the exact same as 21st century western humans except one of our common phrases/words is social taboo to them. One single difference does not an entirely different culture make. Just because the word “fish” is the most awful thing anyone could say to these aliens, doesn’t mean their culture is alien. It’s practically the exact same as the difference between that one teacher who lets their students use their phones for classwork and that other teacher who gives a massive lecture if anyone’s phones even make it into the classroom. Just because of their differing opinions on that one particular thing, doesn’t mean they’re essentially of different cultures. The same goes for aliens. Difference in swear words does not equal difference in culture.

  • Something tries to destroy the Earth for no reason or some stupid shit like “these four humans were rude so therefore I judge their entire planet to be a shithole that must be destroyed.” Bonus points if the alien attackers are those snooty so-called “advanced” ones. Any sapient being who is smart enough to be in charge of a fleet of warships is probably smart enough to figure out that four people can’t accurately represent billions. I know that people think this way in real life, but it’s never on a global scale. It’s usually towards one demographic, like “This terrorist attack was done by muslims, so therefore all muslims must be bad people.” These people are generally also not smart enough to run a country, let alone a whole species. Take that into account when you have aliens attack the Earth. They’d better have a decent reason for wanting to wipe out what will likely 500 years in the future be trillions of organisms (humans, all species of animals and plants, and also all fungi, and all bacteria).
If You Woke Up A God: Part III

PART I | PART II

The chains dropped free from Jacob’s arms and legs, though the cuffs and shackles remained around his wrists and ankles. Despite this, Jacob felt more free than he had in… well apparently, 700 years! Slowly, testing his joints and ensuring that he was still capable of doing so, he stood.

He took a step forward, moving away from the wall that had claimed him for most of his memory. Momentarily, Jacob forgot about how he had even been freed. He simply stood there, in the room he had called his cage for so long, rubbing his wrists and stretching muscles that were sorely underused.

A small cough from somewhere below him reminded him of his company, and he looked down towards Flora. Even with the now-considerable distance between his eyes and her face, Jacob could tell she was beaming. “What?” he asked, still keeping sure to keep his voice soft.

“You just look so happy.” She continued smiling up at him for a few moments before she nodded her head and made a small noise. “Right then. We’ve got to be heading back.”

“Heading back to where, exactly?” He knew he’d essentially promised to go wherever she wanted to take him, but Jacob still wasn’t entirely sure what it was he had signed up for.

She seemed content in his question, and turned back towards her things before she answered. “Back to the capital, of course! Or did you wish to endure another 700 years here?” She gathered up all the small things she had pulled out of her bag and began stuffing them back in, forcing the items into the bag rather than trying to arrange them in any semblance of order. She seemed to be having some trouble with it, especially since the rod that had been previously assembled from individual bits was still pieced together. “Get in there, you ruddy…” With a single mighty shove, the entire contents folded inwards into the bag, and she quickly clasped it shut. “There!”

Jacob watched with an open mouth at the spectacle below him. Given her size, she didn’t seem to have any fears of him, or the largeness of the room in which she had found him. Thinking back, he realized that she gave no real reaction to the room or its contents other than noting Jacob’s apparently-large size.  Beyond that, Flora seemed remarkably self-sufficient. After her initial outburst she seemed to take everything in stride, as if despite the situation, she had total control over everything that was happening. You can’t argue with that approach; no matter what goes wrong, it’d keep you from losing a hold on what you’re doing, I guess. That’s amiable.

Almost as if she heard him, she suddenly looked up at him, a strange expression on her tiny face. “What is it?” Jacob asked, sounding like a guilty child after being caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

“You’re staring at me!” she called up to him. “That’s rude!”

“S-sorry,” Jacob managed in response. He turned his eyes towards the door opposite the wall he was previously attached to. It swung gently on its hinges, clearly pulled free from the latch that held it shut mere moments before.

“Just remember that it’s rude, and it’s fine.” She picked her bag off of the ground and slung it over her shoulder. “Any questions before we head out?”

Jacob tried not to stare at her as he asked the first thing that came to mind. “Uh… how exactly did you do that?” He felt silly asking it; this whole situation was absolutely fantastical, and he still wasn’t entirely sure that it wasn’t just a massive hallucination.

Flora tilted her head to one side as she looked up at him. “Fit my things into my pack? Well, that’s simple enough, right? You simply apply enough force and –”

“No,” Jacob interrupted, “I mean how did you break the chains? That rod thing that you were holding… What exactly is it?”

The diminutive woman snapped her fingers, sending the sound echoing faintly off the chamber walls. “That’s right! You would’ve already been enchained when Magic overtook the world!”

Jacob snorted. “Magic? That’s just in movies, isn’t it?”

Flora looked cross. “I don’t know what a ‘moo-vee’ is, but no! Magic is the only thing keeping this whole world together. The Deities only know what the world would be like if not for Magic. That ‘rod thing’ is a Deviation Rod. Its main function is extrapolation of matter states and, well, changing their behavior to serve the opposite purpose.”

Jacob had to stare at that. “Uh… what?”

Flora rolled her eyes. “It makes things work backwards, sort of. With the chains, it made them unlink. Since their purpose was to remain linked together, the Deviation Rod made them think their purpose was to be open and apart.”

That sounded less like magic and more like science fiction babble to Jacob, but at this point, he was fairly certain that any explanation he got was going to go over his head. Flora was either very smart, or didn’t quite understand how English was supposed to be spoken. Or maybe both…

“Riiiiight,” he said simply, lacing his confusion into the drawn out syllable. “Well, whatever it was, it was incredible. And you’re saying there’re more things like that in the world?”

“Mh-hm! Magic can be used for all kinds of things! I wouldn’t have even known where to look for you if not for Magic!” He hadn’t realized it, but while she was talking him through this, she had traveled the distance across the floor to the doorway. Though it was now swinging wide open, that didn’t seem to matter much to Flora as she ducked a little and slipped under the door through the space between it and the floor. “Well? Are you coming?!” she called out.

It was only a few steps, so Jacob closed the space between them quite quickly. “I guess that answers how you got in here,” he mused aloud. He opened the door the rest of the way so he could see out into the antechamber. The tiny light emanating from the strange glowing ball that happily followed Flora around didn’t do much to light the notably-larger area outside his cell. He vaguely remembered the layout from when he was dragged in here, but he couldn’t fathom how Flora had traversed the complex. “How the hell did you find me, anyway?”

“Swear,” was her only response.

He looked down to find his companion giving him yet another grimace. “What?”

“Don’t say words like that. They’re impolite.” She crossed her arms in front of her, clearly unwilling to budge on the matter.

Jacob held up his hands in a sign of surrender, his shackles clinking slightly as he did so. “Alright, alright! I’m sorry. Sheesh.”

Flora just smiled and uncrossed her arms. She was remarkably resilient. “I rode the mice, of course. What better way to navigate the dark?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

The tiny woman put her fingers to her mouth and let out a shrill whistle that Jacob could only just hear. For a moment, there was no reaction, but just as he was about to ask what she was doing, Jacob noticed movement down the way. From the end of the hallway a sea of red eyes reflected the light of the white ball, and they began to charge forward with far more urgency than Jacob liked…

There used to be a hard-and-fast rule. There was “them” and then there was “us.” “Them” was made up of artists—the people who created TV shows, books, films, music and visual art. “Us” was the group of people who consumed what they made. “Them” was set apart from “us” because “them” was creating material that was then disseminated, on a larger scale, to “us” out there in the real world. “Us” could enjoy “them” and their work, but “us” could not contribute to the creations we loved in any appreciable fashion.


But then something interesting happened: the Internet took over the world, and this hard-and-fast rule slowly began to disintegrate. All of a sudden, “us” was able to horn in on “them” and their creative process in a vey public way—most notably in the form of fanfiction.


fanfiction


All lowercase letters.


No spaces.


No CAPS.


I have a weird perspective on the subject.


I am an actor, sometimes.


And I once played a character who’s a fanfiction favorite.
I hear she/I does a whole lot of “slash-ing” … wait, that’s not the proper use of the word. This might be better:  I hear there is a lot of slash fanfiction about her/me on the internet. Which is kind of sad because this means the fanfiction version of her/me is getting a lot more action than the real me.


Before I get started, I should clarify exactly who/what I am. If the name in the byline is unfamiliar to you, you might recognize the title of the show I appeared in, or the name of the character I played in that show: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Tara Maclay, respectively.
Just FYI, I had to go online and look up whether or not the “c” in Maclay is capitalized. You would think from the amount of time I spent pretending to be this fictional character (three years), I would know how to spell her last name properly. But the truth is, there are a lot fans out there that know way more about her then I do.


And some of these more knowledgeable fans write fanfiction.


I try not to read fanfiction about her/me. I think it would be awkward and I’d forever be left wondering why she/I am so much cooler on paper/the Internet than I am in real life. I am also leery of reading anything about her/me because I really don’t want to read about my pretend-self doing naughty things with characters/people that I may or may not be attracted to in real life.


When I was on Buffy (this was many, many moons ago), not looking at Buffy fanfiction was another hard-and-fast rule. People are litigious, so anything written by a fan and sent in to the writers/producers was not supposed to be read. I have retrofitted this rule to fit my own needs—mostly because of the not-wanting-to-think-about-me-doing-naughty-things-with-fictional-characters worry—so just know that when I see you at a science fiction convention and you hand me your fanfiction about Tara/me, I will smile and take it, but I am probably not going to read it if Tara/me is being a dirty-birdy.


I have been known to read fanfiction about other things, things I have no creative/personal stake in. I might even read Buffy stuff you write, unless you have Tara Maclay giving cunnilingus to Counselor Troi (who is, by far, my father’s favorite Star Trek Betty). If you hand me something like that then I am probably going to take a pass.


Pause.


I must preface all of this with a disclaimer: I have co-written (along with Christopher Golden) a few Willow/Tara comic books. There is a difference between writing these comics and writing fanfiction and it comes down to two things: the storylines for the comics are carefully vetted by Dark Horse Comics/20th Century Fox, and there is no cunnilingus in them. (Well, at least none that ended up on the page. Maybe some dirty bits were excised before the comics went to print… and now you’ll forever wonder if I was just pulling your leg or if there really was excised cunnilingus in those comic books, right?)


I think we can all agree there’s something meta about my situation, something Adaptation-like about the layer upon layer of weirdness. Well, let me just tell you that, though you may think my creative life is meta, it’s nowhere near as meta as the creative life of my friend, Javier Grillo-Marxuach.


Be prepared. This might knock your meta-socks off.


My friend Javi is truly one of the kindest, most gifted writer/producers I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. And he possesses two qualities I very much value in other creative individuals: He treats the business of show like a team sport, and he has a genuine interest in helping others … unlike a lot of the people I’ve met in Hollywood.


Oh, and there’s a third thing, too.


He’s an honest-to-God Fan.


With a capital “F.”


So, to just point out the blurring lines here, Javi is not just an artist, he is also a fan. Where he is concerned, the words artist and fan are synonymous.


A few years ago, Javi created a brilliant television show for ABC Family called The Middleman.  (To up the meta-quotient, The Middleman was a comic book before it was adapted for television.) The Middleman had (and still has) a dedicated fan following—especially for its plucky, intelligent female heroine, Wendy Watson (played by actress Natalie Morales). So, needless to say, there were a lot of frustrated fans when the show was pulled of the air after only one season.


And one of those fans was Javi himself.


Three years later, he did something about it.


In the ultimate meta-fanfiction crossover, Javi wrote a fanfiction piece about his own show … and Doctor Who.


You can go to The Middle Blog over at LiveJournal and read his fanfiction story in its entirety. I really think you should. It’s quite brilliant, weaving together the best of The Middleman with Javi’s passionate love of Doctor Who—but what was so intriguing to me was not the piece itself (as cool as it is), but what it represented about the blurring of lines.


I realized that as much as we try to put a divide between the two worlds (“them” and “us”), there really isn’t one anymore. Not with the advent of transmedia, the rise of creator-owned content on the Internet, the domination of Twitter and Facebook. Not when Twilight fanfiction becomes a bestselling series of erotica novels. Not when the guy who made The Middleman decides to write a fanfiction piece about the television show he created because he’s still interested in telling stories about his characters.


All of these components have created a perfect storm that will forever knock down the wall of separation between artist and audience.
Would it be crazy to postulate, then, that with the blurring of the lines, the words “artist” and “fan” have become interchangeable in some ways? Just because you created a character, it doesn’t mean you get to tell the whole of their story—especially if you sell your characters to studios/television networks/comic book companies. Suddenly, these conglomerates own your creative content and they get to decide its fate. Making you, for all intents and purposes, just another fan off the thing you happened to create.


This had been going on in the comics world forever.  Poor comic book superheroes get passed around like hookers at a gangbang—they’ve always got someone new writing about them, drawing them, adding to their mythology.


So, by the same token, when a fan writes fanfiction, one might equate them to just another writer for hire on a project—they’re just not getting paid in money for their work. For them, the payment is sheer joy of writing for characters they love. They are no longer just a “fan.” Now they are an “artist.”


I’m going to insert myself here again because I’m still trying to figure out where I fit in all of this.


As an actor, I gave my voice and face to a character that someone else created and wrote the dialogue for. When someone sits down to write fanfiction about my character, they are envisioning and often describing that same face and voice, which happen to belong to me, but which I lent to the character when I played the part.


Working on the Willow/Tara comic books as a writer, I wrote about/for the character I played on Buffy. At that point, I became an artist who was using my own face and voice to give continuing life to a fictional character I played on television, but did not create.


See? It’s all very confusing.


Then add in how accessible everything is via the Internet—which is a huge tool when one wants to go about “blurring the lines”—and it’s even more troubling. On Twitter, am I just me, Amber Benson? Or am I an actor who played a character named Tara Maclay? Or am I only seen as Tara Maclay, the character from that television show you loved to watch, who for unknown reasons likes to go around calling herself Amber Benson?


Also, am I somehow creating fanfiction when I interact with people on the Internet—adding to my real-life, personal continuing storyline and to the now-defunct storyline of the character I played on television? This makes my head spin, and does nothing to answer the real question: If we can’t tell who the “artists” are, and if the “fans” are just as hard to categorize, then where does that leave us?


I actually think that—barring my own existential identity crisis—it leaves us in a very good place. Fanfiction has pried open a door, allowing fans a chance to participate in the continuing storylines of the characters they love. The Internet has given these fans and their fanfiction a high-profile stage so that the world can find and enjoy their artistic endeavors. It has also given “artists” a chance to create outside of the system—like Javi and his Middleman fanfiction—and to address questions, comments, and suggestions from their “fans” directly and in a creative way.


For better or worse, it looks a though the lines have been forever blurred. I just wish this essay had given me a little more personal clarity. Maybe I’ll just follow Javi’s example and go write some fanfiction. Maybe a little Amber/Tara slash fanfiction—so I can really confuse myself.

—  Amber Benson, from Fic: Why Fanfiction Is Taking Over the World, by Anne Jamison.
The Sexual Politics of Transhumanism

Technological consumerism, like any other form of consumerism, exists on a market where one rule has prevailed despite more progressive values being introduced slowly into media and marketing. That rule? Sex sells. Whether or not sex actually sells is a whole different matter (hint: there are a lot of reasons why it doesn’t) but the idea that it does for every type of product continues to have an impact.

But what about our less consumerist interests? What about our political movements, our innovative technological ideas, our campaigns for brighter futures? As you can see by the title, what I’m talking about here is transhumanism: an international cultural and intellectual movement with an eventual goal of fundamentally transforming the human condition by developing and making widely available technologies to greatly enhance human intellectual, physical, and psychological capacities. (You can read my overview of transhumanism here).

Visually, transhumanism is identified by augmenting the physical human body with technological enhancements, whether they be replacing lost body parts or providing a physical body that is more durable and more athletic. The mental aspects of transhumanist development are often visualized in the eyes (tech-looking contact lenses to symbolize the ability to quickly accessed data) or sometimes around the back of the neck (nodes that can sometimes be “plugged in” or merely a symbol of stored mental data). The 2013 video game Remember Me makes use of the back of the neck node motif for storing and even sharing memories, but the technological eye motif has been much more common. The eye motif relies on the idea that the eyes are a part of the human body that reflects our personality or our mind, as well as our ability to visualize information. The back of the neck motif relies on the idiom or phrase sometimes used for human compatibility and co-adaptation to technology known as being “plugged in” or “jacked in”

There are many other common themes that become apparent when transhumanist inspired visual arts are brought together, such as common colours, shapes, and various artistic styles. And many of these themes inevitably change over the years as we adapt our vision of technological perfection and the future of transhumanism. Earlier science fiction, for example, enlisted fewer neon or vibrant colours in its visualization than we do today, choosing to stick to a metallic pallet (with the exception of a few technologically inspired pieces of science fiction media, of course). So it is no surprise that we should go looking for other themes outside of simply colour and texture - since transhumanism is about more than the inorganic, it becomes important to ask not just what, but who is used as the face of human augmentation - and in what ways, for better or worse, do these organic themes arise?

Again looking back at the title, you may have an idea as to which direction I’m heading. You also may notice that the title bares resemblance to Carol J. Adams’ critical theory text The Sexual Politics of Meat, in which Adams explores a relationship between patriarchal values and meat eating by interweaving the insights of feminism, animal defense, and literary theory. A key focus is how women’s bodies and female sexuality have been usurped in the marketing and propaganda for the meat (and dairy) industries, and how the sexualization of the product reflects a misogynistic practice within the ideology of non-vegetarianism/veganism.

How does this tie in to transhumanism in the media? While I am not saying that the movement or ideology of transhumanism is inherently misogynistic in any way, I cannot ignore a wide spectrum of trends which lead me to believe that the conception of modern transhumanism is being too strongly influenced by patriarchal worldviews. For now, instead of trying to immediately prove the point with words, I think my best approach here will just be to show you what I mean with images that have been used throughout media to represent transhumanist ideals…

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And last, coming from a television series that some of you may be familiar with, and may strike up controversy in those who enjoyed the series, but nevertheless deserves to be mentioned here…

Has it become clear yet what we’re talking about, and why it needs to be discussed? Male representations of transhumanism are nowhere near as sexualized as female representations. Male bodies are never partitioned in the same way the above bodies have - in vulnerable, incomplete, or submissive poses, making sure to include any and all body parts that may offer sexual stimulation. Interlaced with this issue, if you take another look at the images, are themes of race and conventional Western beauty standards. 

Transhumanism is not a product. Yet looking at these images, it feels as if we’re trying to be sold something through the use of the consumerist rule: sex sells. How many of the above images portray users of products rather than the product themselves? How many portray a sense of autonomy and freedom granted through human technological augmentation and development? 

How many of the above get to…

And finally (warning: humor ahead, put your internet hard hat on!) why is it that…

I mean, c'mon guys. Why can’t you all be as ridiculously sexy as Adam Jensen?

Joking aside, my real final question is: why does it feel like nobody is talking about this, and what are we doing to change it? You want me to believe we should just leave a movement that’s supposed to be for the benefit of each individual person like this, so one-sided, so male-oriented? I don’t think so. It’s time to ask whether women are being shown as users of technology in the visualization of transhumanism, or being used like mannequins, props, or… dolls, like in some sort of… I don’t know, Dollhouse or something.

A truly egalitarian future is shockingly more important than your boner.

In Defense of Scarlett Johansson in Ghost in the Shell

So, against all odds the Ghost in the Shell movie is coming out and Scarlett Johansson is going forward as protagonist Motoko Kusanagi. This being an adaptation of a ground-breaking Japanese comic/animated film, this is a major disappointment, and yet another demonstration of Hollywood’s problem with whitewashing. There are no doubt many Asian actresses who could have delivered the role with applomb (and not just Rinko Kikuchi, she’s not the only Asian woman in Hollywood).

Past that however, I don’t really have a problem with this, because of Ghost in the Shell’s own postulations on transhumanism.

Before you send me hate mail, let me explain myself by way of an important woman whose name I’ve been getting wrong for years: Donna Haraway.

Donna Haraway, Emirate professor of science and technology and badass Feminist matriarch, wrote a paper titled “The Cyborg Manifesto” in 1983. It’s about feminism circa the Reagan era and how coalition through affinity is a much better strategy going forward as opposed to clinging to traditional ideals like identity politics. She uses cyborgs as a metaphor in this situation.

Even though it’s explicitly about feminism, The Cyborg Manifesto also stoked the fires for trans- and post-humanism theory. As a result, Haraway is such a prominent figurehead that she appears in Ghost in the Shell: Innocence.

The Cyborg Manifesto covers a basic point: traditional notions such as race, religion, and sexuality are irrelevant when the subject is a cyborg, because a cyborg doesn’t have a proper link to any of them.

It’s worth noting that a “cyborg” in this tense is not a person with a bionic arm, just a lifeform that has adopted technology in an effort to better carry itself out in its environment. People who wear glasses are cyborgs: they don’t need glasses to see, but it help them see better. On a more widescale note: society proper has become a society of cyborgs, considering how instrumental computers and smart phones have become for day-to-day life. We don’t need neural jacks if we already organize our entire lives on an iPhone.

Back to Haraway: a cyborg wasn’t “born”, it was “made”. Hence, “family” is a moot point to a cyborg. “Masculinity” and “Feminimity” are moot points because a cyborg’s body is malleable; it can modify its body to however it wishes it to be. Also, because a cyborg doesn’t depend on sex for procreation, a major component of sexuality is worthless to it. “Religion” is also moot to a cyborg: God didn’t make her, after all. A cyborg didn’t come from the mud of the Earth, and as Haraway put it, “The cyborg would not recognize the Garden of Eden; it is not made of mud and cannot dream of returning to dust.”

Even in the original Ghost in the Shell movie/comic, which didn’t shove Haraway under a spotlight and shout “THIS WOMAN IS KEY TO ALL THIS STUFF RIGHT HERE”, all of these points are underscored with a bright red marker.

Major Kusanagi’s body isn’t hers; it’s an outdated generic model her central neurological system was put into after an accident she had. The original Ghost in the Shell movie underscored this with a scene where the Major passes by a cyborg with her same body. Kusanagi’s body is a jar for her brain.

Kusanagi’s sexuality is also a blurry point. She has sexual partners, both with male and female bodies, but as Batou himself points out Kusanagi’s own attitude and personality isn’t necessarily feminine. Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex has a nice joke with this scene that sheds a lot of light on the Major: she could get herself a new body that’s physically stronger than what she currently lives in that could better reflect her (butch) personality.

Turns out, Batou’s full of shit.

This is also why The Major goes around wearing what she does in Stand Alone Complex; because her body is just a simulacrum of a body, as opposed to a real one, she not only feels a degree of detachment from it, but we as viewers are given as much. It may as well be a department store mannequin. Her body is merely a means to an end, the end being… well, the stuff that goes on in Ghost in the Shell.

So, here we have a character who is unclassifiable under any order: she can’t really be defined by race, sexuality, philosophy or age because these points are moot to her. She has no real genetic link to any race, and her features are those of her doll-body, not hers. Her sexuality is hers to decide, not ours to define. These can change at her whim, at any moment–and indeed they do. The Ghost in the Shell movie ends with The Major becoming a literal new entity that inhabits a new, different-looking body. (The original manga went a step further: unbeknownst to Batou, he had gotten the Major a man’s body.)

To argue that Motoko Kusanagi is supposed to be a Japanese woman would be like saying Michael Jackson was a white man: completely ignorant of the circumstances surrounding the person. Provided, it’s worth mentioning that Kusanagi is a fictional character and as such has no true agency to speak of: any of her characteristics are merely decisions on Shirow Masamune’s behalf, at the end of the day, so speaking of Kusanagi can only really be done so long as we remember we’re critiquing a fictional character from a fictional universe. It just so happens that the ideas that inspired this character have a real-world precedent.

So, is it racist for Hollywood to cast Scarlett Johansson as Motoko Kusanagi? Definitely. Stop doing that shit, Hollywood. But is it damaging to Ghost in the Shell? Not in the slightest. Major Motoko Kusagi, as established by Donna Haraway, exists in the origin for a plurality of linguistic axis.

As such, any aspect of her identity is hers to define–and since we’re speaking of a fictional character with no agency, the point is moot anyway.

Is this a wasted opportunity? Hell yeah it is. And that’s about all it is.

EDIT: I’d still want to see an East-Asian Kusanagi in a live-action GitS movie, if only for Diversity’s sake. I’m just saying, there’s more to Kusanagi’s character than who her actres is, by virtue of the nature of the work.

Amber Benson on fanfiction, from the book Fic: Why Fanfiction is Taking Over the World by Anne Jamison.

There used to be a hard-and-fast rule. There was “them” and then there was “us.” “Them” was made up of artists—the people who created TV shows, books, films, music and visual art. “Us” was the group of people who consumed what they made. “Them” was set apart from “us” because “them” was creating material that was then disseminated, on a larger scale, to “us” out there in the real world. “Us” could enjoy “them” and their work, but “us” could not contribute to the creations we loved in any appreciable fashion.

But then something interesting happened: the Internet took over the world, and this hard-and-fast rule slowly began to desintegrate. All of a sudden, “us” was able to horn in on “them” and their creative process in a vey public way—most notably in the form of fanfiction.

fanfiction

All lowercase letters.

No spaces.

No CAPS.

I have a weird perspective on the subject.

I am an actor, sometimes.

And I once played a character who’s a fanfiction favorite.

I hear she/I does a whole lot of “slash-ing” … wait, that’s not the proper use of the word. This might be better:  I hear there is a lot of slash fanfiction about her/me on the internet. Which is kind of sad because this means the fanfiction version of her/me is getting a lot more action then the real me.

Before I get started, I should clarify exactly who/what I am. If the name in the byline is unfamiliar to you, you might recognize the title of the show I appeared in, or the name of the character I played in that show: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Tara Maclay, respectively.

Just FYI, I had to go online and look up whether or not the “c” in Maclay is capitalized. You would think from the amount of time I spent pretending to be this fictional character (three years), I would know how to spell her last name properly. But the truth is, there are a lot fans out there that know way more about here then I do.

And some of these more knowledgeable fans write fanfiction.

I try not to read fanfiction about her/me. I think it would be awkward and I’d forever be left wondering why she/I am so much cooler on paper/the Internet than I am in real life. I am also leery of reading anything about her/me because I really don’t want to read about my pretend-self doing naughty things with characters/people that I may or may not be attracted to in real life.

When I was on Buffy (this was many, many moons ago), not looking at Buffy fanfiction was another hard-and-fast rule. People are litigious, so anything written by a fan and sent in to the writers/producers  was not supposed to be read. I have retrofitted this rule to fit my own needs—mostly because of the not-wanting-to-think-about-me-doing-naughty-things-with-fictional-characters worry—so just know that when I see you at a science fiction convention and you hand me your fanfiction about Tara/me, I will smile and take it … but I am probably not going to read it if Tare/me is being a dirty birdy.

I have been known to read fanfiction about other things, things I have no creative/personal stake in. I might even read Buffy stuff you write, unless you have Tara Maclay giving cunnilingus to Counselor Troi (who is, by far, my father’s favorite Star Trek Betty). If you hand me something like that then I am probably going to take a pass.

Pause.

I must preface all of this with a disclaimer: I have co-written (along with Christopher Golden) a few Willow/Tara comic books. There is a difference between writing these comic and writing fanfiction and it comes down to two things: the storylines for the comics are carefully vetted by Dark Horse Comics/20th Century Fox, and there is no cunnilingus in them. (Well, at least none that ended up on the page. Maybe some dirty bits were excised before the comics went to print … and now you’ll forever wonder if I was just pulling your leg or if there really was excised cunnilingus in those comic books, right?)

I think we can all agree there’s something meta about my situation, something Adaptation-like about the layer upon layer of weirdness. Well, let me just tell you that, though you may think my creative life is meta, it’s nowhere near as meta as the creative life of my friend, Javier Grillo-Marxuach.

Be prepared. This might knock your meta-socks off.

My friend Javi is truly one of the kindest, most gifted writer/producers I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. And he possesses two qualities I very much value in other creative individuals: He treats the business of show like a team sport, and he has a genuine interest in helping others … unlike a lot of the people I’ve met in Hollywood.

Oh, and there’s a third thing, too.

He’s an honest-to-God Fan.

With a capital “F”.

So, to just point out the blurring lines here, Javi is not just an artist, he is also a fan. Where he is concerned, the words artist and fan are synonymous.

A few years ago, Javi created a brilliant television show for ABC Family called The Middleman.  (To up the meta-quotient, The Middleman was a comic book before it was adapted for television.)

The Middleman had (and still has) a dedicated fan following—especially for its plucky, intelligent femake herione, Wendy Watson (played by actress Natalie Morales). So, needless to say, there were a lot of frustrated fans when the show was pulled of the air after only one season.

And one of those fans was Javi himself.

Three years later, he did something about it.

In the ultimate meta-fanfiction crossover, Javi wrote a fanfiction piece about his own show … and Doctor Who.

You can go to The Middle Blog over at LiveJournal and read his fanfiction story in its entirety. I really think you should. It’s quite brilliant, weaving together the best of The Middleman with Javi’s passionate love of Doctor Who—but what was so intriguing to me was not the piece itself (as cool as it is), but what it represented about the blurring of lines.

I realized that as much as we try to put a divide between the two worlds (“them” and “us”), there really isn’t one anymore. Not with the advent of transmedia, the rise of creator-owned content on the Internet, the domination of Twitter and Facebook. Not when Twilight fanfiction becomes a bestselling series of erotica novels. Not when the guy who made The Middleman decides to write a fanfiction piece about the television show he created because he’s still interested in telling stories about his characters.

All of these components have created a perfect storm that will forever knock down the wall of seperation between artist and audience.

Would it be crazy to postulate, then, that with the blurring of the lines, the words “artist” and “fan” have become interchangeable in some ways? Just because you created a character, it doesn’t mean you get to tell thw whole of their story—especially if you sell your characters to studios/television networks/comic book companies. Suddenly, these conglomerates own your creative content and they get to decide it fate. Making you, for all intents and purposes, just another fan of the thing you happened to create.

This had been going on in the comics world forever.  Poor comic book superheroes get passed around like hookers at a gangbang—they’ve always got someone new writing about them, drawing them, adding to their mythology.

So, by the same token, when a fan writes fanfiction, one might equate them to just another writer for hire on a project—they’re just not getting paid in money for their work. For them, the payment is sheer joy of writing for characters they love. They are no longer just a “fan”. Now they are an “artist.”

I’m goint to insert myself here again because I’m still trying to figure out where I fit in all of this.

As an actor, I gave my voice and face to a character that someone else created and wrote the dialogue for. When someone sits down to write fanfiction about my character, they are envisioning and often describing that same face and voice, which happen to belog to me, but which I lent to the character when I played the part.

Working on the Willow/Tara comic books as a writer, I wrote about/for the character I played on Buffy. At that point, I became an artist who was using my own face and voice to give continuing life to a fictional character I played on television, but did not create.

See? It’s all very confusing.

Then add in how accessible everything is via the Internet—which is huge tool when one wants to go about “blurring the lines”—and it’s even more troubling. On Twitter, am I just me, Amber Benson? Or am I an actor who played a character named Tara Maclay? Or am I only seen as Tara Maclay, the character from that television show you loved to watch, who for unknown reasons likes to go around calling herself Amber Benson?

Also, am I somehow creating fanfiction when I interact with people on the Internet—adding to my real-life, personal continuing storyline and to the now-defunct storyline of the character I played on television? This makes my head spin, and does nothing to answer the real question: If we can’t tell who the “artists” are, and if the ”fans” are just as hard to categorize, then where does that leave us?

I actually think that—barring my own existential identity crisis—it leaves us in a very good place. Fanfiction has pried open a door, allowing fans a chance to participate in the continuing storylines of the characters they love. The Internet has ginven these fans and their fanfiction a high-profile stage so that the world can find and enjoy their artistic endeavors. It has also given “artists” a chance to create outside of the system—like Javi and his Middleman fanfiction—and to address questions, comments, and suggestions from their “fans” directly and in a creative way.

For better or worse, it looks a though the lines have been forever blurred. I just wish this essay had given me a little more personal clarity. Maybe I’ll just follow Javi’s example and go write some fanfiction. Maybe a little Amber/Tara slash fanfiction—so I can really confuse myself …

Interview - Keyboards, March 2001 - Translated

This interview is a bit odd for the time-period because they only bring up the robots once and then it is quickly sidestepped. There’s a lot of talk about their tastes in music, their ideas for Discovery, and what equipment they use/like, for those who are interested in that. (Scan by ifcwdjd; you can find the original French interview in her bulk article downloads.)

(Please note I do not speak French, so this was done entirely with Google Translate, a few other translators, and some French grammar websites. I tried to turn it into actual, human English as much as possible. My translation is probably not 100% accurate and should be taken with a grain of salt. My notes are in italics.)

Keep reading

THOUGHTS I HAD WHILST WATCHING THE MAZE RUNNER: THE SCORCH TRIALS

WARNING. THIS POST CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FROM THE FILM and is really fricking long. It also contains lots of CUSSING and bad grammar. If you don’t want spoilers I suggest you skip this post but if you want to find out more, plz continue. Oh and it also has a lot of Thomesa comments so if you ship Trenda you probs wont like this…ENJOY!

·      Omg YAS YAS

·      It’s starting

·      Aww little Thomas

·      Aww little Thomas getting dragged away from his mommy.

·      Dream sequence

·      Thomas be like fuck no this again

·      Let the 74th hunger games begin

·      Ooh Minho oppa

·      Lots of shouting

·      So many cross cuts and black outs

·      Ewww Ratman

·      Aiden Gillan is a pretty good actor. Hate his accent though.

·      They’re all really dirty in their glade outfits but they’re still so hot though

·      THE SHOWER SCENE

·      Lol minho in the background: “woo hoo”

·      Dylan is so hot

·      He’s naked

·      OMG he looks so cool right now. He’s so wet

·      Shouldn’t they be suspicious of injections? I mean I would be. Especially if you don’t know who these people are.

·      Oh at least Newt is suspicious.

·      Wait why isn’t Thomas saying anything

·      Jokes he just asked another question

·      Someone better do a question count for Thomas

·      Minho’s wearing red

·      Soo many teenagers

·      If there was more than one maze, where and how did WCKD manage to find a place to fit that many mazes, along with facilities that monitor them. Also, how many grievers would they have made for this purpose? What if the grievers rebelled and decided to do they own shit? Wouldn’t wckd be fucked then?

·      Oh look its Aris. The loner emo boy wearing a hoodie. Remind you of anything?

·      How old is Aris again? He looks like he’s 13.

·      Thomas be like: no let me see her. Such devotion.

·      Please don’t pick a fight with a guard.

·      Yes Thomas, just walk away.

·      Bunk beds. Why is it always bunk beds?

·      Minho: ‘too slow’ ha ha

·      More dream sequences!

·      Thomas the insomniac

·      Aris creepily saying pssst while under Thomas’ bed

·      Just so happens that the air vent opening is right under Thomas’ bed. #movie logic. If you’re reading this CinemaSins and happen to do a ‘Everything wrong with the Maze Runner the Scorch Trials’ based on this post, you better reference me or at least mention me and get people to like this post on Tumblr. Btw, you guys are awesome! [thumbs up]

·      Thomas: “What the hell am I doing?” yeah Thomas, what are you doing?

·      See!!! He even talks to himself using questions.

·      Air vents, the most common way to eavesdrop on people

·      Ooh dead bodies

·      Thomas picking a fight with a guard-WTF ru doing bro?

·      Jeez Thomas take a fucking chill pill

·      Oh he’s getting the swipe card thingy

·      Sending kids back to their rooms-the most common way of grounding children when they do bad stuff

·      Jeez you didn’t have to shove them in there. Such a rude guard.

·      Newt be like: cant we just be happy for once?

·      Thomas has an idea! Everyone hates it.

·      Everyone else be like: of course Thomas. Of course.

·      Thomas dropping into the hallway from the air vent like spiderman.

·      How are you gonna get back up though?

·      Okay so teenagers are being strapped up to tubey things

·      This totally isn’t child abuse

·      Oh no is that Teresa? Jks no

·      OHHHHH its Rachel

·      RIP Aris’ girlfriend

·      I ship it though

·      #Raris… or is it Arachel? Idk

·      Hiding behind poles

·      Lots of dramatic walking in this film

·      ava paige [sitting down and signing pages like a boss]

·      its good to see that the boss is a woman though

·      oh wait let me correct myself, she’s a “doctor”…doctor my ass, more like a lady killer who just wants to dissect children for money.

·      Seriously Thomas you need to calm the fuck down and just tell everyone else what’s going on

·      Great acting though, Dylan O’Brien [thumbs up]

·      #Follow Thomas the leader…or should I say Thomas the tank engine? Ha ha just kidding.

·      Everyone just blindly follow Thomas when we all know he doesn’t have a plan most of the time

·      Fuck yeah Minho is such a badass by kneeing that guard

·      #MINHO POWER

·      God he’s hot

·      Guns

·      Yes lets use the lady doctor as a hostage

·      Operation rescue Teresa

·      Found her

·      Thomas is totes in love with her. He’s so concerned about her all the time.

·      so many Thomesa feels rn

·      Yay window smashing!

·      Thomas and Newt breaking glass. #Teamwork

·      aww Thomas carried Teresa

·      Lots of door barging/blocking moments

·      Everyone keeps shouting Thomas! Like we get it. Everyone is obsessed with him.

·      Why is Thomas always the last one to leave? Or the one who stays behind. It’s like he willingly tries to be the last one standing. Stop isolating yourself Thomas. Everyone knows your chances of survival are better when you’re in a group, not when you’re alone. Thomas is so dumb sometimes.

·      Yay Aris. #Aris the hero. What a wildcard!

·      Is Teresa barefoot?

·      Thomas: *shoots at guys with shields with tazer gun. Gun runs out of ammo. Throws away gun before he starts to run for it.*

·      Can I just say that something about Dylan O’Brien holding a gun, or any guy doing badass but somewhat violent actions gets me so turned on.

·      Man that running and sliding under the closing door was epic

·      Yeah Thomas. U GO!

·      Best bit in movie-Thomas giving Ratman the finger [applause]

·      I bet Dylan O’Brien improvised this scene

·      HILARIOUS

·      How did they manage to run out people on aircraft and dirt bikes?

·      How can they see where they’re going?

·      Wow lots of sand.

·      Of course he doesn’t have a plan Newt. Its Thomas!

·      lol, mountain people

·      The Right Arm reference

·      Wardrobe change

·      It’s really dark

·      Something bad is bound to happen soon

·      Suspenseful music

·      Why do I get this feeling that I’m watching more of a thriller/horror movie than a science fiction film?

·      No Minho don’t turn on the generator!

·      HOLY SHIT, CRANK!

·      HOLY SHIT MORE CRANKS!

·      Run bitches run!

·      Are they inside a mall?

·      Mall chase scene

·      Man, these cranks are scary AF

·      This film is really fast-paced though. It just goes from one scene to another like that-[clicks fingers]

·      Oh look its daytime. Its always safer in daytime

·      NEXT TIME ON GLADERS VS WILD

·      The graphics are great though

·      Sand dunes

·      so much sand everywhere

·      Another Thomesa scene YAY!

·      Wait teresa has her memories?

·      Ooh wait…that means…oh okay

·      Wtf Winston

·      Oh god he’s infected

·      Why is this scene being carried out like page 250.

·      He even says: ‘I don’t want to end up a monster’

·      Depressing death scene when its not even halfway through the movie

·      Wait they’re just leaving the gun with him? Oh ok.

·      Everyone just walks away

·      Goodbye Winston

·      Choreographed halting after sound of gunshot. Nice.

·      RIP WINSTON

·      NO MORE WATER

·      Minho why would you throw the bottle away? You could’ve saved it for later! You’re in a wasteland for Christ’s sake!

·      Sleeping in the middle of the dessert. NICE.

·      Thomas: I see the light!

·      A storm is coming…jks the storm hit immediately in just 10 seconds

·      Ahhh MINHO

·      Minho got hit

·      Character that almost dies but doesn’t trope

·      Minho after getting told he got hit by lightning: ‘Oh”

·      Oh Minho you’re so cute

·      Everyone turns around and sees a crank

·      [I literally jumped when I saw it]

·      More cranks. Wonderful.

·      Oh look who it is. Brenda.

·      GIANCARLO!

·      Brenda’s got sass

·      Ha ha lol, they’re all hanging upside down

·      Minho’s sass lines have appeared!

·      Interrogation time

·      JorgexBrenda moment. How sweet.

·      Wait what? Jorge wants to play music? DAFQ

·      Ha ha wckd is confused

·      This is some old ass music for a film that set in the future. I mean they’re still using cd records. Really? I mean shouldn’t it be coming out of like a boom box or something. It’d be funny if they played Gangnam Style or something. It’d be even funnier if there was an ad before the song played.

·      No Thomas don’t go after Brenda.

·      Seriously though.

·      Thomas is like Percy Jackson, never leaves a man behind. Or woman in this case.

·      Wckd guards are idiots. They’re in shooting range!

·      OHHH SO IT WAS A BOMB TRIGGER SEQUENCE

·      AWESOME

·      That was clever though

·      So many scenes in complete darkness

·      Stop having Trenda scenes

·      Why are you going deeper into the tunnel?

·      Thomas: ‘you think?’ another question. Thank you, Thomas. [sings Girls Generation in my head.]

·      It’s a rat. Gross.

·      Oh and now a crank is eating the rat. RIP rat.

·      It’s time to go now trenda.

·      RUN. Stop standing there. RUN!

·      Oh for Christ sake

·      Epic chase sequence

·      Wow that is some really nice graphics. Really nice.

·      I hate the cranks though

·      Wes wasn’t joking when he said they were scary

·      The cranks look like some RPG zombie game shit

·      Rock climbing

·      Yeah Thomas! Kill that crank!

·      Brenda’s infected. Great. She’s so gonna die…NOT.

·      Finally, there are actually civilians who aren’t trying to hunt down the protagonists or sell them for money.

·      Who the hell is Marcus anyway?

·      Oh that actor. Why is he everywhere? He’s the douchebag bad guy in Dollhouse as well.

·      Yeah sure, just take whatever drink a stranger offers you. Even if they’re acting real shady about it and keep insisting you drink it and go into the party. I mean, I get that you’re trying to find the others but srsly? Would they actually be dumb enough to walk into that party?

·      Yay a party scene

·      OMFG THOMAS IS HIGH

·      Great acting Dylan O’Brien

·      Lol this is hilarious

·      Walk into da club like wow I am so fucked right now

·      Crank execution in a club, why not?

·      For a second I thought the guy killing that crank was Ben.

·      Blue lighting

·      Blue and white are such predominant colours in this film.

·      Okay now Thomas is really high.

·      Hallucinations

·      Eww not Trenda

·      Brenda is so fucking desperate right now

·      Technically you’re not the only two left. You just haven’t found the others.

·      Oh for Christ’s sake you’re both high. Have some restraint would ya?

·      No THOMAS NO

·      Don’t you dare!

·      Fucking hell he kissed her

·      WHY IS IT STILL GOING?

·      Oh now he’s kissing Teresa

·      YAY Thomesa kiss!

·      Jks its only a hallucination

·      Thomas: ‘you’re not her’

·      Poor Brenda. #REJECTED

·      Thomesa spark is still alive

·      Yes Thomas, I knew I could believe in you

·      Thomas blacks out…again

·      Teresa: ‘we have to stop meeting like this’ ha ha lol.

·      Wait so that guy was Marcus?

·      Violent interrogation

·      Threatening by use of death

·      Bertha????

·      Oh it’s a truck.

·      Wait a second… that looks like Stiles’ truck. They’re both blue. Mindfuck.

·      Lol Newt looks so excited to be inside a truck. Ha ha. So cute <3

·      Ambush

·      There sure are a lot of guns in this movie.

·      Oh look Group B finally makes an appearance

·      Aww! Aris, Harriet and Sonya reunite

·      Why do Sonya and Aris seem to have a thing for each other? Maybe it’s just me but she seems way to happy to see him.

·      Who the heck is Vince?

·      Oh look its Thomas’ mom.

·      Don’t remember? Oh okay…

·      Wait Thomas is the Source?

·      Oh so he’s been backstabbing wckd for ages.

·      Good on you Thomas!

·      I feel like Thomas is the only one with an actual conscience.

·      Of course Brenda gets the cure.

·      Yes Thomas, just stealthily reach into her pocket whilst she’s asleep. #totes not a perv

·      Wait Brenda had a brother? His name is George?/Jorge?

·      Wait don’t tell me her brother was Chuck?

·      Brenda: you remind me of him-WOAH don’t tell me Thomas is her brother

·      Brenda: ‘they didn’t want me’ #REJECTED…again

·      YAY Thomesa flashback

·      Just kiss already

·      Newt calling Thomas ‘Tommy’

·      Just when you think your favourite characters are finally safe…it’s bound to get a whole lot worse.

·      OHHHHH Teresa! Why?????

·      I saw this coming though

·      Thomas looks so disappointed in her.

·      Teresa quoting Thomas

·      So sad

·      The ship is no longer sailing

·      #Betrayed

·      Enter Darth Ava [lol]

·      Ava paige reminds me of President Snow. They both wear white.

·      Ratman you son of a bitch.

·      RIP Mary.

·      Oh lol she must be named after Marie Curie.

·      Explosions!

·      No not Minho. Don’t take away my oppa!

·      Come on Thomas! Rescue him.

·      NO oppa, don’t go!

·      Oh yes, it has to end with inspiring speech time executed by Thomas

·      Thomas: ‘I made a promise to Minho.’ THOMINHO IS REAL!

·      And so it ends.

·      Ha lol the number of times everyone said ‘shit’ in this movie

Glob I am so gonna cry in the last movie.

·      The Death Cure: the journey of Thomas trying to save his BFF Minho who he is secretly gay for whilst dealing with the fact that his crush Teresa betrayed him. I can’t wait!

·      God what am I going to do with my life as I wait for the next one?

BTW THANK YOU FOR READING ALL THIS

plz don’t kill me 

superherochris  asked:

Good... Something. I believe evening for you. Question. Do you ever just start writing? In the sense that you just start a story with nothing in mind. If so, does it organically start to shape into a story going from a-z, or do you eventually have to start an organization of some sort? Thank you in advance for your answer.

Well, let’s tease this out one bit at a time.

If what you mean is “do you ever just sit down to write with nothing in mind”, then the answer is “Very rarely.” Partly because I’m not sure it’s possible for me to sit down to write with nothing in mind. There’s always something in mind. At the back of it, at the front of it, milling around in the middle…

There is also a simple matter of work logistics here, because while I do take pleasure in my writing (you’d better believe it: sometimes that personal pleasure is all you’re going to get…), this is my job and there’s a lot of it piled up waiting for me to get on with it. I keep a worksheet in Todoist (which I highly recommend to those who need highly organized and very feature-rich to-do lists: Todoist is the queen of them all, or possibly empress), and as of this morning there are twenty-five writing projects on it: seven film or TV projects, three short fiction projects, five science fiction novels, six fantasy novels, two historicals, one mainstream/magic realism novel and a big fat contemporary political thriller of the buy-it-at-the-airport-read-it-on-the-beach variety. 

So you will understand that I don’t often have the luxury of sitting down with nothing in mind. All those projects stand up at the back of my head every time I sit down at the big computer, and start yelling “Mommy, me!” “No, you paid attention to him yesterday, me! Pick me!” …And then there’s always the question of which editor or producer has called or emailed most recently to noodge you. So there is always something I ought to be doing besides sit down at the computer with Scrivener open and stare into space. (Though staring into space is actually one of the more important parts of my workflow, closely tied up with shutting up the noisy busy process-obsessed writer’s-forebrain and letting the shadowier, more intuitive writer’s-hindbrain get on with fitting the pieces of story business and character interaction together.)

That said: if what you mean is “Do you sometimes get an idea and just sit down and start writing it”, then yeah, sometimes, because that’s often how the creative process goes for me. I get an image (C. S. Lewis got Aslan that way, he says in one of his memoirs: just a sudden lion out of nowhere…), or a flash of how a story might start, or (probably most frustrating) of how it’ll end. And then immediately it becomes necessary to drag it into the “real world” and start making it concrete, start setting down the details before they fly away.

I can’t say it strongly enough: when you get this kind of urge, the lightning-striking-the-sea moment, sit down and take notes immediately: do not assume you’ll remember all the details later. You can always come back to the notes, but if you don’t nail the basic concept to the paper or wrap it right up in electrons and put it somewhere safe, I promise you that you’ll be sorry later. The mind malfunctions in mysterious ways, and nothing afflicts the career writer (and others, I bet) with more midnight melancholy than the memory of the story that got away because you were too damn busy to make notes and now can’t remember the details that would have made it memorable when you finally did sit down to write. 

Lewis Carroll had strong opinions about this issue too…

 ‘The horror of that moment,’ the King went on, 'I shall never, NEVER forget!’
 'You will, though,’ the Queen said, 'if you don’t make a memorandum of it.’

…In any case, when that fleeting image or concept arrives, once you’ve fastened it down – at least as conclusively as you can at such an early stage – that’s when the serious work begins, because now you have to work out what format it’s meant to be expressed in and how big or small it needs to be to be expressed perfectly; to become (as the overused phrase has it) “the best that it can be”. And generally I don’t allow a story to just wander along shaping itself without some guidance along the way. I’ve been at this a long time, and over thirty-plus years of work I’ve had stories that I allowed to wander about the landscape go completely wrong because they were not correctly assessed early for shape and size and their inherent creative possibilities. I can’t afford to waste time like that any more: that list is staring at me, and (as the slave would whisper into the ear of a triumphing general coming home to Rome) I have to remember that I’m mortal.

Anyway. From where I stand, allowing stories to organically shape themselves only works if you are (a) very skilled and (b) very lucky, in tandem. It only works if the story is exactly the right kind of story to be allowed to sprawl and wander and repeatedly run down blind alleys while you (and it) sort out its mission in life. (Also… I’m not sure the “organic” metaphor works perfectly here. For example, would you allow a climbing rose to grow “organically”, without supports, without guidance? Imagine what it’s going to look like in a few years. I really hope you like days and days of pruning…)

For me (and here I emphasize that there are probably as many ways to write as there are Names of God, and certainly as many as there are writers) the appearance of a premise for a story immediately implies the need to give it at least some kind of structure while working out what it’s going to be “when it grows up”. Is the subject matter better handled in prose or as a screenplay? And what length of either? Is it emotionally or in action detail hefty enough to stand up to the format you’re considering? (Simplest example of how this can go right, or horribly wrong: How The Grinch Stole Christmas. Perfect as a book, and justifiably a classic. Entirely workable as a short animation [as Chuck Jones proved: but it helps to be a genius who had the gift of making everything look easy, if not inevitable]. A complete disaster as a feature motion picture: stretched out of shape for length’s sake, not enough story scraped across too much celluloid. Millions of dollars could have been saved if somebody trusted and experienced at… was it Warner? I forget… had weighed that story in the hand of the mind and taken the production executives aside and said, “It’s not going to work: not even Jim Carrey can save this.” …Ah well.)

Once you’ve applied at least the minimal structuring that’s involved in the choice between (say) prose and screen format, there’s plenty of time to change your mind later: switch formats to one that works better. But that initial assessment of “What have I got here? What’s the best way to write it so that it moves everybody the way it’s moving me?” ( – and for the career writer, “What’s the best way to do that so it’ll also sell?”) – has to be made, and made actively, early on. Otherwise a precious thing, an idea out of nowhere, has way too good a chance to get wasted as it roams around the creative wilderness trying to find a niche.

Hope this helps. :)