One thing I’m so grateful for in the TAZ verse is that there are - and this may seem like a weird way to put it - adult women.
I don’t just mean women who are in their thirties or forties and look like Hollywood actresses. I’m talking about women in their fifties and sixties and older who are still living their lives and loving their lives. I’m talking about Lucretia, a woman in her mid-fifties who has white hair and an air of authority and an amazing sense of humor and is the savior of the multiverse. I’m talking about Cassidy, a woman in her sixties who makes a new friend and starts a new career after her previous one falls apart. I’m talking about Paloma, the “oldest person [Taako’s] ever seen in real life” who is an integral plot point and laughs at dick jokes. I’m talking about Mama, a woman in her fifties (?) who drives around in a truck and is a badass protector of a bunch of vampires and ghosts and gets into enough shit that she has to stumble into the lodge, her duster in bad shape and leaning on her shotgun.
So often in media, I see stories either focused on young women (my age into early thirties), or, even if the characters and/or actors are supposed to be older, who look no older than thirty. I want something to look forward to - I want to be able to look into the future and see myself aging and still see myself living a full life and fighting monsters and saving the world, wrinkles and greying hair and all. I don’t want my media to stop once I turn thirty, or even forty. I want to imagine that I’ll keep living beyond that, and keep loving my life. These characters are so important to me because I want someone to look up to and something to look forward to. So thank you, Griffin, for giving me those women, not prettifying them or smoothing over their flaws and wrinkles. Thank you for letting them be big and loud and funny and happy. Thank you for allowing me to see a glimpse into my own future, hopefully, and look forward to it with joy and expectation.
i was gonna make a comic based on the funniest interaction i had in school 2 days ago but idk if i have the time so instead take this pesterlog recreation
the thing all sherlock holmes adaptations get wrong is making the guy an irredeemable asshole who treats everyone like shit . not only is it not reflective of the original stories they miss that “nice, smart, well mannered dude who snorts coke when he needs to think” is possibly the funniest character ever devised
I feel like the modern equivalent is that guy you think is super well put together until you find out exactly how much red bull he ingests on a regular basis.
Modern Sherlock is that very nice English Professor-seeming guy who you bring a problem and while walking from the door of his office to his desk he starts explaining the entire solution you need
And upon reaching his desk he’s like “Excuse me one moment.” and pulls out one of those huge Monster canisters they legally aren’t allowed to make anymore, cracks the whole thing, chugs it, takes a deep breath, and then nods at you and is like “Alright, and then what you need to do is…”
Imagine how much better the dynamic of bbc sherlock could have been if they did this.
why even modernize it to energy drinks??? coke didn’t go anywhere. we still have coke. energy drinks aren’t NEARLY chaotic enough.
Its is more like you hiring some guy to do private investigation about how your husband maybe cheating on you and Sherlock comes to your house high as fuck. Walks into your living room and without taking a moment to even talk to you or sign any paperwork, he turns around—pupils as big as god—and just says
“Its your best friend Brenda. I’ll email you the invoice.”
and walks right out of your house.
Because when it was written cocaine was legal and even considered healthy and useful by some laypeople, even though doctors knew it wasn’t, and Watson was always trying to stop people from encouraging Sherlock’s addiction because HE KNEW BETTER.
So consider this, Holmes, at 2am, desperately searching the flat for the stashes of NOS cans, only to keep coming up with passive aggressive pamphlets about the dangers of caffeine overdose.
Watson wakes up to a stench like Satan’s ass to find Sherlock sitting by his bed with a re-heated pot of cold brewed Deathwish Coffee that had been hidden in the back of the toilet tank (brewing) for five months. Sherlock is trying to say he’s proud of John’s cleverness in finding most of the stashes, but he’s passed into the fifth dimension and all John gets is a creepy vibrating grin and a sound like a shaken cat.
TLDR, Sherlock did die when he fell off the Falls, but he was so coked up his body didn’t stop moving until like a decade later.
Sherlock as one of those cryptid types the baristas talk about (there’s a post floating around somewhere) who comes in and orders a venti with as many shots as they are legally allowed to add, plus a few more for good measure (and a hefty tip) and then adds energy drink on top of it before chugging the whole thing, to the absolute horror of the cafe staff.
This is the kind of Sherlock Holmes discourse I demand on my dash. Bring me more!
