Limonite Mud And Stalactites

ccaanniidd. gouache watercolor, 2019

"Maybe we'll be different, Dean." "What kind of Kool-Aid you drinking, man?"

SUPERNATURAL 4.12 Criss Angel Is a Douchebag

naiad in the water

NHL x text posts

im such a nothing person never have anything going on never achieve much never meet new people or go to new places never do much but exist

Blood eagle detail

so i was reading a bunch of star wars fanfic (i have not actually watched star wars yet. shh.) and ruminating about how clearly the Jedi teachings have a serious disconnect between what they ostensibly mean (as a perfectly stable space philosophy based on a perfectly stable nonspace philosphy) and how they are presented, definitely irl (i.e. a number of people being like NO ATTACHMENTS?! NO EMOTIONS?! HOW CAN YOU NOT CARE ABOUT WHAT YOU GOVERN?! HAVE YOU NO COMPASSION?! when i am given to know that is in fact strictly incorrect) and presumably also in-universe because i have a very limited view of what exactly happened in Anakin’s head during Everything but popular consensus seems to be that There Was A Disconnect. and also possibly he needed therapy he maybe didn’t get, and also possibly that since the Jedi didn’t usually take in older initiates, they were legitimately unprepared to raise someone with different fundamental foundational ideas, even notwithstanding his specific circumstances.

*anyway*

then i jumped to reading a youjo senki fanfiction where Tanya was doing the ‘i believe strongly in the intensely rational and try not to let myself be ruled by emotions because that’s foolish and inefficient, what do you mean i am not always self aware about that’ thing. (i have personal interpretations of Tanya but they’re neither here nor there for the purposes of this thought.)

and then i made the connection of hey, what if post-life-as-Tanya she got yeeted into star wars? i mean you could also do some neat things with Salaryman getting yeeted directly there without being in youjo senki proper first, idk, but the main point is just… what sort of Jedi would Tanya be? because like her thing about ah yes we must not let emotions rule us, rational behaviour is the only way forward, *is* in direct opposition of any YOU MUST USE EMOTIONS TO FUEL THE DARK SIDE or whatever is going on there, like, that shit is something Tanya would be explicitly philosophically opposed to. (especially if she doesn’t have to go full magical doping into combat.)

on the other hand Tanya is… her decisions do not make her seem like an ideal Jedi, to the untrained eye. also while i personally interpet her even as Salaryman to have been neuroatypical as heck and therefore (mood) having a somewhat nonaverage experience with how emotions work, i feel also like there are some that she probably does just… not unpack properly? like, in a way that impedes inner peace and self-understanding or something, idk. which i feel like would be a quiet albatross around any potential Jedi teachings she may or may not absorb?

like i said idk, but mostly it would be interesting to explore the idea of how Tanya would react to getting isekai’d again, now into Star Wars, maybe as a baby Jedi. even notwithstanding how you could use her to fuck up the entire plot of Star Wars in basically any way you see fit, her relationship with the philosophical structure would be interesting to explore. also there are many ways you could append Being X to that superstructure, or, like, unappend him, and I think that would be neat.

Wincest Wednesdays

for @wincestwednesdays Sept 3rd prompt: Radio

on AO3

“You’re listening to KZSU Stanford at 90.1 FM. I’m Nicole and I’ll be your host for the next hour as we open the lines up for some dedications. This first one is going out to Brad from Angie…”

The coffee shop nearest to his dorm catered mainly to the college crowd and played the campus radio station at a volume that was loud enough to hear when the ambient clatter and hiss and chatter didn’t drown it out.

Sam had developed a habit of studying at a table in the corner, where he had the wall at his back and could see the entire place easily. His father’s voice was still too loud in his head to ignore, barking at him about situational awareness. 

But the noise, rather than being distracting, made it easier for him to focus. Like the act of filtering out the activity around him opened his mind up to remembering, cataloging, making connections in the information. Something about habits developed through childhood made them especially hard to shake, and even when he wasn’t trying to read or do school work in various cafes, diners, and restaurants, he would still need to tune out his brother. Dean who’d always had the tv or radio on, laughing or singing along, or sitting silent and brooding (which somehow was always louder to Sam than anything else).

“We’re dropping way back into the 70’s on this next song with Foghat’s I’ll Be Standing By for Samantha from an anonymous caller. Ooh, watch out Samantha, this one’s giving off creeper vibes.”

~~~

“It’s Tuesday again, so you know what that means! Got a special song for that special someone? Our phone line is open for the next hour, 855-723-9010.”

“Triple shot, soy, flat white!” the barista announced as he slid a cup onto the pick-up counter. 

Sam scooped it up and headed back to his regular table. Sitting down he pulled out his class notes and laptop. He popped the lid off his coffee, so it would cool faster, and got to work. Handwriting in class then transcribing later into a Word doc helped cement the information in his memory, and digital notes were so much easier to search when he was studying for tests. By the time he was finished, he slugged down the rest of his coffee, which had been room temperature for a while now, and started to pack up to go to his next class.

“For our final dedication today Samantha’s anonymous 70’s rock fan is back! This time he’s requested Zeppelin’s Out On the Tiles. So, Samantha, this one’s for you.”

The driving opening riff hit hard and familiar as Sam pushed through the door and strode out onto the sidewalk. A surge of nostalgia smacked a smile on his face as he shoved his hands deep in his pockets and tried his best to look like he fit in.

~~~

“Third Tuesday in a row, we’ve got ourselves a regular caller. Samantha, if you’re out there, here’s Telegram Sam by T-Rex.”

~~~

“Oh, Samantha, we’re back in maudlin territory this week. Your anonymous friend requested Dylan’s If You See Her, Say Hello. Maybe check on the people you know, 10:15 in the morning seems a little early to be that drunk.”

Sam was taking both Latin and Greek this semester since he already had a solid grasp of basic Latin and he was taking it because it was a requirement for more advanced classes. He hadn’t been as well versed in Greek so he spent more time going over his notes and working on his translations. 

“Two requests in one show? I think I touched a nerve when I said he sounded drunk. Sam, Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd.”

~~~

“Another Tuesday, another dedication to Studious Samantha from your 70’s classic rock fanboy. So here’s Paranoid by Black Sabbath. Sam, your creeper’s got a nice voice but he seems to be going through a manic phase, watch out.”

~~~

“Okay, Samantha, this is the sixth week in a row and I gotta admit, I’m intrigued by your man’s musical choices. This week he’s dedicating Shame on the Moon by Bob Seger to you.”

Sam’s eyes went wide. It was the Seger song that finally made the pattern click. It had to be. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and punched in a number he knew by heart. It rang twice.

“Heya, Sammy.”

“Your mix tapes? First and last song on each?”

“Took you long enough. Hey, that Nicole sounds hot, think it’s just her voice or…”

“Jesus, Dean. Did you need something or have you really been calling up a college radio station DJ for a month and a half just to get my attention?”

“Just trying to have a little fun, shoulda known you be pissy about it.”

Sam rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose while Dean was quiet on the other end of the line.

Finally, Sam heard an irritated huff and then, “Whatever, man. Get back to studying, wouldn’t want to bother you.” 

The call disconnected.

Sam sighed and looked at the phone, like he couldn’t believe that was it. He dialed again and it went right to voicemail.

At the beep Sam simply said, “Jerk.” and hung up.