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ears-awake-eyes-opened · 2 years ago

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On This Day

(Scrapbooked memories from my underworld journey and beyond)

April 4, 2010:

🎶“morning has broken, like the first morning. blackbird has spoken, like the first bird. praise for the singing, praise for the morning. praise for the springing fresh from the word...”🎶

April 4, 2012:

this april is so full of magesty. it's only the 4th, and i've already lost count of the number of ways it has taken my breath away.

April 4, 2015:

Free citizens of the United States of America should not have to beg for our rights. We must expect legislators to stand up for our rights and back down from their threats of medical tyranny. SB 277 is an outrageous, extreme act of oppression against a free people.

April 4, 2018:

No Contact is removing your choking hands from your own throat. If someone offered me a million dollars to be in that relationship (or anything like it) again, I wouldn’t take it. This is the relief that No Contact and codependency recovery offer in time. I still believe she is a dear person with a good heart; I still miss her companionship, especially during times when I can't connect with friends; I still cry every time I talk about her if you let me talk deeply enough to reach the trauma I'm still releasing. But nothing could persuade me to go back into the hellhole of being in relationship with a person with complex mental illness and signs of personality disorders.

I recognize not everyone has the freedom to go No Contact, due to coparenting or other extenuating circumstances. I understand not everybody wants to. I’m grateful for this freedom and choice. I don’t take it for granted. I was able to completely and permanently walk away from an unhealthy situation. I've been able to ease, in time, back into a normal life. I'm still getting there. Narcissists don’t have the capacity to do that. For them there is no “normal” life to ease back into. There never has been. They can discard you, erase all traces of you from their lives, replace you with a new FP, partner, source of supply; but none of this will resolve their pain because they can’t leave themselves.

April 4, 2019:

With the care I’ve given my body over the past few months, I see how beautiful it is, but I can’t enjoy it. My daily uniform is the pajamas I’ve worn forever and 30 pounds ago. The shirts are all stained with healing oils that haven’t worked. Most days I put my hair in a ponytail and under a hat without brushing it. In a ponytail, my hair is more silver now than amber.

I’ve become the disabled version of my dream girl, the one I met when I was 22 and then years later in another form. The former I wanted to be. You know those people who make you feel the potential in yourself. The latter I just wanted to be with. For the same reason. The potential in myself. Both times I was thwarted. Like I am now with healing. Sometimes I can’t make a thing work, no matter how hard I try.

I’ll never realize my potential in any of those ways. Sometimes life isn’t meant to be for growing old and growing into your full self. Sometimes life ends shortly after birth, with no silver in your hair and no dreams of your own realized.

I’ve had much more than that. I’ve enjoyed a lot of dreams. The ones I’ve slept with at night, and the ones long held in daylight and let go.

I’m terrified. Please pray for my back muscles to loosen and for my hypermobile vertebrae t5 to stay to the right, off of the rhomboid region. There are no words to describe my suffering. I need a miracle.

I need the highest prayers today. It’s crunch time for me and my unfolding understanding of divinity. I pray to get out of pain. Envisioning looseness and less volume in my back muscles to start. Thy will be done. Let it be. 🙏

April 4, 2020:

The ability to let go of people who would cage me is a gift. I KNOW this. Still, I don’t like anticipating the letting go.

“You’re not caged,” they say with heads shaking and eyes rolling, “Your door is unlocked. Stop spewing your ignorant bullshit and just keep your dirty ass at home.” Yep, actual words I’ve been told because I dare to *gasp* go out and live what I can of my shitty life.

Here’s the thing... when people cling in fear to a cage of their own making, eventually the powers that be will come around and lock the door from the outside, knowing the clingers won’t complain, rather they’ll give thanks for their own imprisonment.

I refuse the cage. I sing from the trees and the sky. I’m done with anyone who doesn’t honor MY choice for ME. I don’t need to sing for freedom, because I’ve already chosen it. Freedom is already mine.

We’re all birds with a choice to make. Until that choice is taken. History tells us that once they’ve locked the door from the outside, it’s too late. Our hearts and guts know it too if we listen.

“Caged Bird

BY MAYA ANGELOU

A free bird leaps

on the back of the wind

and floats downstream

till the current ends

and dips his wing

in the orange sun rays

and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks

down his narrow cage

can seldom see through

his bars of rage

his wings are clipped and

his feet are tied

so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings

with a fearful trill

of things unknown

but longed for still

and his tune is heard

on the distant hill

for the caged bird

sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze

and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees

and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn

and he names the sky his own

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams

his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream

his wings are clipped and his feet are tied

so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings

with a fearful trill

of things unknown

but longed for still

and his tune is heard

on the distant hill

for the caged bird

sings of freedom.”

April 4, 2021:

Memory. Coincidentally I’ve been thinking this morning about the stream inside me. That stream the free bird floats upon to where the sky begins. Buried under all the work and pressure and pain, the stream is crystal clear as melting snow and teeming with life. It flows down my cheeks to the corners of my mouth as I write the deepest truths of connection and loneliness. My capacity to write lives within it. My connection with kindred spirits is there along with all the joyful things that effect my vitality. I KNOW the stream is there inside, underneath. And, yes, I have a fear of losing access to it. I know the words are in me; it’s just been so long since I’ve felt them truly flowing. I miss that quality of song. I miss those downy feathers catching the wind. I miss the snapping of little fingers, creating a million crickets, and filling the darkness. The bird’s dawn bright lawn becomes the fat worm’s grave of dreams I suppose. Either way is preferable to the cage. Most people just don’t get it. They’re even more batshit delusional than they were a year ago.

April 4, 2023:

Memory. Does the truly free bird actually sing? I wonder. Or does she just fly and eat and mate? And where does she get the energy for all of that? In 2021 ⬆️ I wrote about losing my inspiration to *sing.* Without the pressure of the cage, the artesian well in me is still dry. I get tempted lately to fill up the emptiness with merlot and feel alive that way. Because I can do that again without feeling sick. For now. Part of me is fine with that choice, desires that even. But many (most?) parts me are unclear about what they want. I wonder how so much time can pass without more clarity. Is there really THAT much freeze in my system?… Yes. The cage is wide open, and the bird so often chooses to lie on the floor, too uninspired and frozen to do much of anything. Who knew this would be the case less than a year after really meeting the feeling of freedom and stepping into that realm? Who knew with the sky and all the trees to choose from that the floor of the cage would so often be the choice? Who knew that I’d desire again at times to drink wine in order to feel my life force, when I know where that road led for my gut and my toe and my body as a whole? 🤷‍♀️ Why do I not go out and find places where the other free birds gather? Why do I not improve my nest? Why do I spend what feels like so much of my days in stillness and in the absence of desire? I can view the freeze as a *son of a bitch*. Or I can view it as a survival pattern of the little one whose system capped the intensity so often in anticipation of death that she never developed authentic desires. I don’t know what to do with that young part, but I know alcohol is not what she wants and writing is likely not what she wants either, or at least she wants something more/deeper than writing. She wants connection and she wants to feel her purpose. I’m not totally clear about how to consistently give her what she needs. I keep doing the work, and I work through my resistance to doing the work. Intoxicants take me out of connectedness and presence. Alcohol, internet, tv, *book learning*, even to an extent writing and eating when those aren’t inspired by real thirst for the flow of words and real empty-gut hunger for food… those all take me out of Self energy and out of my body and away from my parts. Maybe the little one who wants connection and purpose just needs my listening hand on my body, “I’m here; I’m listening.” I could choose to stay on the floor of the cage, listening constantly and sipping water when she’s thirsty, until she guides me to do something else. Hmmm…

#parts work #facebook memories #april 4 #the well #the cage #caged bird #the feeling of freedom #2020 #2021 #2023 #2019 #2018 #2015 #2012 #2010

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stanknotstark · 4 years ago

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Commanding Loki (just kind of happens)

Summary: You’re not really sure how it happens but you begin commanding Loki, the God of Mischief, around. To everyone’s shock, he happily obliges to your commands.

The first time you do it in front of the Avengers they all kind of stop in shock.

"Loki, get me a soda before you sit down." You told rather than asked the God.

You were too busy looking at a tablet Tony had lent you to see him stop in his tracks. He glared at the Avengers looking at him, ready to attack him as if he was thinking about attacking you for giving him an order. They weren't wrong but only because you did it in front of everyone. Probably.

He got you a soda and sits next to you, rolling his eyes at your nonchalant thanks.

The next time it happened was kind of a life or death situation.

"Loki, leave the room right now and calm yourself," You checked Thor's pulse through the gushing blood which made him slippery as an eel, "You either calm yourself and I’ll let you back in or you can sit out there like a petulant child. Go."

Natasha looked at you as if you were crazy, her hands pressing a t-shirt to Thor’s wound tightly. Loki heeded her no mind though and did as you told him.

He was welcomed back within 15 minutes.

Next, you do it more to push boundaries because Natasha had a conversation with you after Thor's fiasco. She's finds it quite funny that he obeys you like it's second nature but if anyone else dared do it he wouldn't hesitate to threaten their life. Trust me, Tony had wanted to test his boundaries and tried to do it too. Needless to say, Tony wouldn't be doing it again any time soon, he was still pissy some very expensive pieces of furniture got destroyed.

So one day while you and Loki are hanging out with Natasha, like you all consistently do because you three enjoy silence but companionship at the same time. You look across at Nat and grin, making sure Loki doesn't see it and commence your plan.

"Loki," Loki looks up from his book on midguardian foods newly introduced from 1996 to 2010, a questioning frown on his face, "Pass me the remote."

It's simple enough, nothing too strenuous. Yet.

"You have two perfectly functioning arms." Loki mutters but grabs the remote and gives it to you. You give him a genuine smile and you can see he has gone soft in the eyes before he looks at his book again.

You glance at Nat with raised brows, she looks away with a smirk as you turn on the TV. Flicking through channels you finally settle on reruns of Stranger Things. Natasha gets interested and you kind of watch but mostly you're thinking about commanding Loki to do something else but what? Loki keeps looking at his book but you see him glancing up often to watch the show too.

"Hey, Cowboy," Loki growls at the name, it had come up when Thor told you he used to call him a cow for his horns, "Don’t sit like that you'll get scoliosis....if a God can get that." Loki who had slouched forwards blinked at you and sat up straight in shock from the bad posture. When you see him glower at the TV you smile, he's probably cursing midguardians for ruining his good posture.

"Thanks." You whisper.

Loki hums carelessly and puts his book down to instead watch the show. Natasha coughs into her hand (a hidden laugh, you knew Nat too well), Loki eyes her suspiciously, looks at you, then focuses back on the TV. You force yourself, with great resolve might you add, to not laugh. You let things settle again before you try the ultimate command.

"Ugh." You start, rolling your right shoulder around and poking at it as if it hurts. You're literally about to tell Loki to massage it for you but you’re struck by paralyzing shock. Loki had noticed your 'discomfort' and moved closer to you. Lifting his hands towards your shoulder he stopped and looked at you with a tilted brow, asking consent.

Aww how sweet.

You nodded and shifted so he had better access to your back. One hand landed between your shoulders on your back and the other pinching the area where your shoulder met your arm and began massaging.

Shocked you let him staring at the TV but not knowing what is going on on the show. Loki and you had touched before so it's not so out in the left field that you're concerned but he was massaging you in front of Natasha. Your thoughts turned to mush as he pushes and pulls your body so he could access all of your back and starts massaging your entire back. You couldn't help the little whimpers and soft moans of delight. Not only was this man a God but he was literally gifted God like hands, unfair!

After letting out another whimper Loki stopped. You felt him shift back to his original spot and so you did too. Glancing at him you saw a hint of flushed cheeks as he stared at the TV distantly. Natasha was outright staring at him with both eyebrows raised to her hairline, it looked like.

Loki cleared his throat and left with an offhand excuse.

Once Loki left the area Natasha's eyes fell onto you. She smirked lecherously but said nothing about what had just happened. Turning her attention back to the show when you shrugged your shoulders, completely flustered.

She asks, "So like, I don’t doubt Will is going to be found but does Barbara make it?"

You smile and settle into the couch, "You'll find out in a few episodes."

Natasha groans and you laugh. You know she hates not knowing but if she's truly desperate she can look it up on Google or ask Jarvis.

The next time you command him it's another crisis.

In short, Thor and Loki are arguing, both clearly in a ferocious rage in the kitchen. All the team is there to experience it this time too.

"No, Thor, I cannot simply understand why you would defend those inept idiots you call friends. If you think they're in the right you’re more brainless than I thought!" Loki yells at Thor who now looks like a kicked puppy and your motherly instincts kick in.

"Hey!" Loki looks at you shocked, this is the highest he's ever heard your voice, and probably the angriest too because you just don’t get mad. You have the patience of a Buddha God, Tony likes to say.

"You apologize to him right now, then you will listen to what your brother has say, and if you interrupt him I will show you just how minuscule a God can be to a non believer."

The entire kitchen is silent. Tony looks like he wants to flee the area, he's been on your angry side once before. Steve is practically engraving the table with his eyes. Natasha shrugs and continues eating her meal, the utensils clipping the plate the only noise in the room.

Loki looks at Thor and raises a brow. Thor, still looking at you, swallows and begins to talk, focusing on his brother again.

"Im trying to learn but I don’t know how to stay neutral between your feelings and my friend's-"

Loki opens his mouth but slams it shut when you snap your fingers.

"-i do not want to offend anyone but every choice i make I offend you and I’m sorry brother, I truly am. What can I do to amend things between us?"

Loki glances at you to see if he may talk now. At your nod he says, "Start by supporting your brother sometimes. I don't ask that you stand behind every argument between your friends and I but you never fail to support them, it seems. You can't please everybody Thor, and you can't stay neutral forever, at some point you have to realize that you have to pick a side and who's side."

Thor has lost to kicked puppy look but he now frowns and nods, staring at the floor with guilt. Loki's hand comes up, hesitates, then he places it on Thor's arm for a second and swiftly leaves.

When no one moves for a few seconds you clear your throat and they all go back to whatever they were doing before the argument escalated out of proportion, you included.

You realize you may have tiptoed the line of being fair with that last command so you let it rest for awhile, give Loki some space. He of course notices your avoidance because Tony had asked you what was up between you both, stating that the God had asked him if anything was bothering you. Usually Loki came to you with his concerns, not being the type of person to talk behind someone’s back.

You sigh and tell Tony you’re fine, that you’ll talk to him. So you head out from Tony’s lab and search for Loki. He isn’t in the living room, kitchen, or even his own bedroom. You remember him once stating that he likes read on the roof sometimes, Tony had build Loki a garden up on the roof at one point since Loki clearly missed the garden from home, Asgard. A small gesture but a true turning point for both Tony and Loki’s relationship you think.

Walking out on the roof you don’t see Loki in the garden so you murmur a few expletives and make your way back to the door when a voice calls out your name. You follow the sound and find Loki hidden on a corner of the roof, sitting on the edge of the building.

Walking up behind him you ask, “Can we talk?”

“You’ve never asked before, don’t see why you’d start now.” Loki says, no contempt in his voice though, it’s just very...neutral.

You force out a small laugh, hearing your own tenseness in it, “Ya, about that..”

You sit next to Loki letting your legs dangle over the ledge like Loki does now. His legs kick every once in awhile giving him an almost childlike appearance.

“First off, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Loki looks at you.

“I was out of line the other day with you and Thor. Not just then I’ve been, well, commanding you to do things for me and that’s...it’s not...right?” You finish lamely, your face a big grimace but you look Loki in the eyes when you apologize.

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” Loki says with mirth lingering in his words.

“Well, ya, is there some other reason I should have?” You squint at him suspiciously.

“No.”

Loki looks at you with an innocent look on his face, which you know is pure bullshit, but you let it slide. Shaking your head with a smile you then look out across the open skyline below you.

“Apology accepted.” Loki says after some time has past. Your shoulders, which had tensed involuntarily, now relax.

You don’t react, well more like force yourself not to, when you feel Loki’s hand come to rest atop yours which had been supporting you on the ledge. Loki lets his hand rest there before he gets more confident and intertwines both of your fingers. You smile, finally looking at Loki who is already staring at you brazenly.

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

Loki smirks then leans in, his left hand coming to cradle your head at your jaw and kisses you. At first softly, as if testing the waters, then begins to put more passion behind it as you lean into him. His tongue gently swipes across your bottom lip and you open your mouth to let him explore.

If you thought this man had God like hands....

When you’re both breathless you part but keep your faces close together. Your eyes roam over his face, noting how young he looks right now, how vulnerable, and bite your lip. Loki’s eyes drop to your lips and uses a thumb to pull your lip from your teeth lest you bruise them more. “Don’t bite them, it is my job to bruise them.” Loki says breathlessly.

Much later, when it’s dark out, you both come back into the tower and make your way to the living room. The first person you see is Natasha who, legit, smiles at the look of you two. Tony who notices Nat smiling looks where she’s looking and whistles at the two of you who decide to share a love seat.

“Shut up.” You command the two of them.

You were sure the both of you made a pretty funny picture. Your hair was most likely tousled, too much so to just be from the wind, and Loki’s lips were nearly purple with bruising so no doubt yours were any less. Not to mention the both of you were too incredibly happy, which ya you being happy is normal but it was almost an alarming amount of giddiness and Loki doesn’t normally show his emotions so openly like this.

Tony smirks, raises a brow and points the remote at the TV. “Stranger Things?”

You, very much flustered, clear your throat and say yes.

#loki x reader #loki odinson #loki #reader insert #one shot #avengers #tony stark #natasha romanov #my writing #dudes i literally had this thought pop in my head while out eating dinner with my family for mothers day #and i was constantly picking up and putting down my phone to write it all in my notes #like i always have the best ideas while out doing something or when people need my attention gdi #but enjoy #commanding loki (just kinda happens)

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promptsfromthecrypt · 4 years ago

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𝐁𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐃 : 𝑆𝑈𝑃𝐸𝑅𝑁𝐴𝑇𝑈𝑅𝐴𝐿 ♡ 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜.

triggers and nsfw may be present in this specific meme. some grammar may have been changed to fit a roleplay setting from the original content. any pronouns may obviously be changed to fit the situation , etc etc.

𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝟏 : 𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟔 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝘩𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑦 𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒.

“ even if we get possessed tonight , we can have a nice brewski after. ”

“ you could feel the history coming through the walls here. ”

“ late 1800s and early to mid 1900s. peak ghost time. 90% of ghosts are from that era. ”

“ you never really hear about a ghost from 2010 or so that’s wearing like a flannel and ripped jeans or some shit like that. it’s always somebody wearing a bonnet. ”

“ oh , he’s grieving , he’s probably not paying attention to that store of his. let’s burn that down. ”

“ i mean they’re really just getting boned by fate right now. ”

“ do you think that because you believe in all this stuff that you have a higher chance of being a ghost? ”

“ i’d be a pleasant ghost. i’d like pour people tea and stuff like that. or i’d do chores around the house. they’d be like , ‘ whoa! all my laundry’s folded. how ‘bout that? thanks , ( name )! ’ and i’d tip my cap and i’d tap dance out of the room. ”

“ doesn’t that sound great? wouldn’t you like to be haunted by me? ”

“ if there is anybody in here . . . perhaps you wanna do a little dance for us? ”

“ i know every time people watch these ghost hunter shows they’re like , ‘ this guy’s full of shit , ’ but holy balls dude. ”

“ then are there also ghost ants? are there— are there— is there ghost trees? ”

“ no , there’s no ghost trees. i’m sorry. ”

“ i— you— you’re telling me someone’s never walked through a forest and seen a tree and been like , ‘ huh? b–b–b–but wait a minute. that tree was there , i swear there was a tree a second ago. ”

“ you know what? i’ve changed my stance on ghost trees. that’s actually pretty cool. ”

“ can you imagine seeing a ghost , ‘ oh my goodness look at this strange apparition! ’ and he just comes up to you and is like , *blows smoke at you* and you’re like , ‘ oh , jesus , man! ’ ”

“ how do you arrest a ghost? you can’t. you handcuff them? i guess you would have to be a ghost cop. ”

“ you know what , i rescind what i said earlier. i won’t pour tea and fold clothes. i’ll be a ghost cop. yeah , that’s actually pretty badass. ”

“ ( name ) : GHOST COP. doesn’t that sound nice? that’s awesome. i like that. ”

“ you better watch out or yankee jim will give you some taffy. some folks say they hear him playing a jolly little kazoo tune in the middle of the night. ”

“ you know , if i were him i would haunt this place. you know what , ( name )? police bullshit. ”

“ you know what , i hope you’re riding a speedboat in heaven. ”

“ i’m gonna be quiet now and just embrace the darkness. ”

“ i am terrified , and if you’re scared of me , just know that if you show yourself in front of me , i’m gonna urinate all over this carpet. ”

“ but all the ghosts sound like they’re just having a laugh. he’s blowing smoke in people’s face , she’s having tea in the garden , the kids are running around , probably laughing. chasing the ghost dog and ghost cat. ghost cat’s probably chasing around little ghost mice. there’s a lot going on in this house. ”

#rp ask meme #rp ask memes #rp meme #rp memes #ask meme #ask memes #rp starter #rp starters #ask prompt #ask prompts #rp prompt #rp prompts #type: tv shows #show: buzzfeed unsolved supernatural #genre: comedy #genre: horror #holiday: halloween

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keltonwrites · 3 years ago

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When's your off-season?

This post was originally published on Shangrilogs Substack. Subscribe here.

Do you have a personal off-season? Can you?

My life here is supported by a resort town. There’s not a single amenity in our “town”, so we head into the actual town 25 minutes away for restaurants, stores, salons, etc. Those businesses all operate on a resort schedule, which is the closest American Industry gets to European. Beginning in late October through early December, hours are reduced and many places close up for a well-earned off-season. And I love every moment of minor inconvenience. Good for you, Siam Thai. Get out of here! No problem, ski shop. You go climb those mountains.

Unfortunately my own sanctioned off-season this time of year probably looks like yours: here are two days off — we know you’re likely spending them negotiating familial relationships, walking on Covid eggshells, trying to recover from years of getting hammered by 40-hr-work-weeks that are actually boundary-less tethers to tiny dinny nightmare sounds coming from your tracking device, all while cooking an actual feast you haven’t practiced in a year — but we hope you come back refreshed on Monday because Carl scheduled that 8am. (Carl thinks we should be back in the office because he’s a sycophant who believes the American Dream is real. Carl doesn’t give a shit what timezone you’re in.)

Corporate jobs don’t have off-seasons. And no, vacation days don’t count, because the point of shutting down the whole business is that there’s not 738 emails waiting to destroy your newly replenished zen when you get back. Which is why I believe in manufacturing your own off-seasons: breaks from fitness, upping the frequency of takeout meals, a pre-determined month of caring less when the house is a mess, a couple weeks’ work of “phoning it in” which I love and have loved since college when I realized it was possible to give a C performance and still get A- life results. And to be clear, despite years of professional work promoting it, I’m not talking about self-care. I am instead talking about self-reallocation-of-care. For me, the perfect off-season isn’t punctuated by massages and elaborate tea routines, it’s just doing a whole lot less of the bullshit and a whole lot more of the best shit.

But what is the best shit?

I have to give my brain a long enough break from the day-to-day to even figure out what a fulfilling day even is. A natural place to start here is to just think about what you’re grateful for. But when I’ve attempted gratitude journals in the past, it gets a little old writing “my legs, Finn, Ben, parents, the outdoors” over and over again. So instead, I like to think about what I regret. After all, when we sit around talking about what we’re grateful for, we’re just dancing around what we regret, or more often, what we’re attempting to not regret, e.g., ignoring your children, spending your life at a desk, never seeing Paris or whatever. Gratitude is a nostalgia-laced reverence, a practice of really nesting in the good things brought into our lives, where regret is that same nostalgia-driven awe, just this time with a big ole complicated layer of “whoops.”

I only have one serious regret — the rest all fall under the categories of “learning experiences” and “well what are ya gonna do.” (I guess the third category is “yes, I absolutely wouldn’t have gone to that restaurant that night” but that’s rewriting history — not choosing a better decision.) My biggest regret is when I had something really good and I let another person convince me it wasn’t. Or, in more explicit terms, I had a popular Tumblr from 2010-2013 that was optioned into a book and instead of converting that audience to a newsletter or different platform and continuing to write for myself, I just let it die because my Worst Boyfriend™ convinced me it (and I) were trash.

I used to resent him for that, but it was my choice. There will always be people who want to influence your decisions — usually not with any malice. But an off-season, a time when I let my brain get a full dose of introspection, allows me to pay closer attention to what’s bringing me real joy and flow immersion. When I can pay attention like this, and burrow into that feeling, I’m not so easily led astray in the woods.

Sort of like moving to this town in the first place.

“Isn’t that kind of far from a hospital?” “Aren’t you worried about avalanches?” “Do you even have snow tires?”

I had conviction around this decision. (To be fair, I also didn’t have any manipulative sacs of bitterness in my circle anymore.) Which brings me to the present, an off-season if I ever had one. Living somewhere without endless city entertainments, my job in transition with our budget slashed, friends to see in person at a near all-time low, and only six hours of actual sunshine — there’s not a lot to do but dedicate myself to figuring out what I want to do with myself.

At the tail-end of my last off-season, I and three other women set out to read Designing Your Life together. I was swimming with big ideas and bigger dreams, and I needed to shape the clay of them into something I could use, which is exactly what that book advertised it could help with. For the most part, I really enjoyed that book, but one exercise struck me as particularly futile. It asked for you to write down a thing you love, e.g., “the outdoors” or “making to-do lists”, and then make a word web in all directions under a time limit, and at the end, circle the words you wanted to be a bigger part of your life. I remember thinking this was so dumb. Then earlier this week, I came across all these old papers while unpacking. Here are the words I circled:

Home decor

Sharing

Community

Inspiration

Tropical

Rustic

Connection

Stories

Newsletter

*Gestures around at exactly what I’m doing right now, in a house I themed #tropicabin, sharing my stories and building a little community of people who care via a newsletter.*

Which brings me back to my big regret: abandoning the blog I worked tremendously hard to build. I knew when I was working on that blog that I was fulfilled. Is it ironic to do years of on-and-off soul-searching to come to the same conclusion that you did years ago? This is the plot of countless successful movies, after all. It took me a few years, and a couple very good off-seasons, but here I am, spinning my regret back in the gratitude direction.

So I want to say thank you for supporting this writing endeavor. I don’t wake up each day excited to log in to work, but I do wake up excited to work on this. And I still get questions that make me doubt myself.

“Are you doing it to just practice your writing?” “Do people actually read it?” “It seems a little aimless?”

But thanks to the right kind of rest, my conviction is happy to answer: no, yes, so?

Share Shangri-Logs

We have to give ourselves off-seasons. It wasn’t that long ago that humans knew a couple hundred people and read the paper and a few books. We have got to give ourselves a break because no one else is going to give it to us. Shut your kitchen down. Shut your social down. Put an out-of-office on your personal email. We need our own permission slips to care less about some things so we can care more about finding and funding and defending the things that light us up.

Here’s my recommendation for a little Sunday journaling in the afternoon sun: Use the past week of stirring up the pot of gratitude to see which regrets are adding that depth of flavor to the stew. Write down all the joy-giving things in your life, from things you do frequently to things you rarely get to do. Then, write down your regrets and what you would do differently. The reality is, we can always start “differently” right now. Be more honest, commit more deeply, love bigger, draw stronger boundaries, and so on. Finally, give yourself a time-constrained off-season. Put it on the calendar. “Do not spend time picking up the house.” Because it doesn’t matter how good your list of loves’n’loathes is if you don’t give your brain the space to figure out how to apply that to your life.

So when I’m re-shaping that ball of clay called life, I try to remember this:

Gratitude tells us what we’re getting right

Regret tells us what we could get right

And rest tells us how

It’s been almost a decade since I was this excited about my own ball of clay. It took one off-season to realize what I had, one to realize what I wanted, and this one to finally pursue it. Thank you being the ones to help me shape it.

If you liked this, consider subscribing to Shangrilogs on Substack for the free weekly newsletter, or support a writer and go paid to get gear reviews, renovation recaps, and more.

#newsletter #home renovation #am writing #log cabin #offseason #shangrilogs #gratitude #regret

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zappho · 5 years ago

Text

Some Meta on Murdock and mental illness

Generally speakig, The A-Team is a dumbass, light-hearted comedy with action on the same level as youtube poop videos. Obviously there isn’t alot of depth to be found here. The show had tons of different writers, all with their own take on Murdock and none of them offer any clear info or a proper backstory for the character. It’s basically up to the audience to fill in the blanks and that’s exactly what I’m gonna do by overanalyzing the mess that is the show’s canon.

The question of whether Murdock is ‘‘‘really crazy or just faking’‘’ has been around for over 30 years, but I’m gonna argue that he’s both.

When Kelly visits Murdock in the psychiatric hospital and confronts him about why he’s living there in the first place he gets instantly uncomfortable.

He really didn’t want her to ask, it’s why he’s been avoiding her. Joking about how you’re hashtag crazy™ is easy; having to admit that you’ve been institutionalized for over 10 years because you have legitimate problems is much harder. (Sure, the VA also gives him a convenient cover from the military police, but if that was the only reason for him to stay he wouldn’t react to Kelly’s question in this way). “It’s a long story”, is all he says. There are clearly some painful memories here that he’d rather not delve into.

He’d have to explain how he got committed in the first place. We know that after the gang was arrested for war crimes in ‘71, Murdock was still serving as a pilot in ‘72. They never clarified when and how Murdock was sent home, but i’m guessing without his only friends around and it being, you know...war, his mental health eventually deteriorated until he received a medical discharge straight into the VA hospital.

After Murdock gets wrongly released in season 1, instead of his friends being worried about his supposed cover getting blown they just shrug it off and go ‘Oh well!’ (This could all be due to the show’s inconsistent writing, but you know)

No longer being an inpatient would finally allow Murdock to be employed as a pilot again (his #1 passion), and yet he seems really disheartened about the situation. Even though the hospital gives him no privacy, the staff barely respects him and he spends most of his time there by himself, he still prefers to stay.

For a character who’s allegedly cheery comic relief, he sure gets his feelings hurt alot, mainly when dealing with other people’s ableism towards him. B.A. and Face are obviously just palling around, just guys bein’ dudes, they don’t want to hurt Murdock for real, they probably don’t realize how sensitive Murdock is about the subject. Usually he plays along or shrugs it off, but sometimes he gets genuinely upset. In the first half of In Plane Sight he’s so fed up with it he tries to ‘‘act normal’‘ until #Woke #Queen Hannibal reassures him that they love him the way he is.

PTSD was barely starting to become a diagnosis when the show first aired, but I think it’s fair to say he suffers from it. The pilot episode states that he has anxiety, paranoia and memory loss, so that checks out.

With PTSD you don’t just have to deal with flashbacks and nightmares, but also intrusive thoughts, images and memories about your trauma. Murdock copes with it by getting hyperfixated on a new activity or pretending he’s someone else. This is were alot of people will go ‘‘haha wow look how wacky and insane he is! He’s talking to his sock 😂’‘. But Murdock knows it’s all made up nonsense, he just needs his mind to focus on something else. What’s important here is that he never lets his coping mechanisms distract him when he’s flying, first of all he’s already focused and also he doesn’t wanna crash (lol). There’s a believability to his actions that’s missing in the 2010 reboot.

In the episode where the gang helps out the vietnamese cook from the POW camp where they’ve been tortured, Murdock tries to distract himself with some golfballs. He soon starts projecting his trauma on them however.

I think this is the only time in the show where Hannibal tears up, so this scene is kinda significant. As the leader, he probably blames himself for getting his team captured and tortured, and seeing that Murdock is still so strongly affected by it gotta hurt.

Compared to the rest of the gang, Murdock’s alot more fucked up over the war. There are subtle changes in his voice whenever he talks about it. In the ep about their old war buddy Ray, Face was reminiscing about how cool of a guy Ray was for borrowing him his helmet, Murdock’s memories meanwhile are much less upbeat. ‘My bird was the only one left in the sky’ he remembers while we see an image of a field filled with shot down helicopters. His experiences are bound to be different from the other three as a huey medevac pilot. Murdock did have one off-screen breakdown in the present timeline, after collecting every newspaper article about the upcoming execution of the team in Firing Line. Apparently it was bad enough that he had to be restrained. It’s been 10 years, so he’s recovering and getting better, but he’s still not all there yet.

Everyone knows Murdock’s just messing around when he’s being interrogated by the military about his connections to the team, but like what about when the military isn’t there; or NO ONE is. He often talks to himself or just puts weird shit in his mouth for no reason while nobody’s paying attention to him (eating leaves, paint, an entire raw egg, a frozen sandwich). Sometimes he’s just unhinged like that.

Another thing that’s brought up a few times in the show is his anxiety. Murdock’s often seen being generally tense, sweaty, uncomfortable or reflective in the background of a scene. (I have no idea if this was a deliberate acting choice but Dwight does have anxiety irl so who knows if that had anything to do with it, I mean who knowsssssss, i’m just observing)

He’s got a habit of fidgeting with his hands or touching his neck when he’s stressed out. Murdock also does it when he’s telling his psychiatrist Dr. Richter about his dreams “If you were me, wouldn’t you be terrified to put your head down?” he asks him.

Richter isn’t really paying attention though, because he’s so used to Murdock’s non-stop clownery, he can’t exactly tell when his patient decides to be honest about his feelings for once. He just replies ‘Well only if it was a bad dream’. Which really irritates Murdock because what other dreams besides bad would he have? So he derails the session by rambling some made up bullshit on purpose.

Richter knows that Murdock uses humor and fantasy to cope, but he’s obviously tired of Murdock’s cringe antics, he just wants to help him. But Murdock doesn’t like to open up and be confronted with his traumas again, he just wants to avoid talking about it all together. There are still parts of reality that Murdock’s not ready to deal with, or he wouldn’t always retreat into his fantasies.

Before he can continue messing around a helicopter passes by and Murdock freezes for a second. Richter assures him that the helicopter is real; Murdock nods and starts fidgeting with his hands again, seemingly in deep thought. We know from the season 4 finale that he hears the sound of rotor blades when he dissociates. He was definitely being sincere here.

After getting drugged by some military goons he has a few brief flashbacks (feat. cheesy 80′s neon filters): seeing the chopper fly away, getting stuck in a potted plant as if he was walking through the jungle, being surrounded by heavy smoke and sparks from the burning carpet).

Despite being the 2nd highest ranked team member, Murdock dislikes being in charge and gets severly distressed when anything goes wrong that he might even be slightly responsible for. Most notably is the episode where the owners of the diner get kidnapped after Murdock got knocked out by evil cowboys or hill billies or whatever they were. Instead of telling anyone what happened, he’s just lying on the floor, repeatedly calling himself a failure until the others show up.

Seems like Murdock gets startled more easily than the rest of the crew as well. We often see him flinch when guns go off; one time he literally wore fluffy ear muffs to a backalley shootout.

This short moment from Family Reunion always stood out to me. Face opens the van door a little too quickly and it takes Murdock so off-guard he has to take deep breaths to calm down.

Murdock sounds exhausted when he has to remind Face not to sneak up on him. Face also realizes he messed up, he just wanted to check up on Murdock and not trigger him on accident.

When it comes to portrayals of mental illness in fiction there’s obviously better representation out there than Murdock. But sometimes you just wanna see a mentally ill character have a good time instead of being miserable 24/7. And Murdock’s already got the worst behind him, he’s had therapy for years and friends who love him. I just think that’s refreshing to see, especially with a character who’s so kind and openly affectionate.

#the a team #hm murdock #howling mad murdock #mental illness #dwight schultz #meta #out here being corny at 2am #ptsd

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dalekofchaos · 4 years ago

Note

I know you don't like Chloe Price anymore. But since you like to change things about your favorite things like Star Wars, DC, Marvel and Horror, how would you change how DONTNOD/Deck Nine handled Chloe?

A lot. I will start with BTS and then LIS. But to be fair, I’ve grown to like Chloe again. My big problem is how she treats Max, the fact that we cannot choose who Max focuses on(again I’d choose Warren and Kate if I could) and well the hateful and toxic Pricefield fans ruined Chloe for me. But here’s how I would change Chloe if I could

BTS

First of all, hire someone who actually understands how teenagers talk(especially teenage girls) and make the dialogue less cringey(this goes for both games)

Give Chloe more of a character arc. I don’t feel that Deck Nine did Chloe justice. The writers attempt to evoke empathy with Chloe feeling grief which is done via exactly one emotion- which is a very childish understanding of how loss and coping works. She had no character arc, considering she was the exact same character that we already knew in LiS Episode 1 (A bitter disaffected teenage youth with no regard for authority) so we didn’t get to see Chloe evolve into the character we loved in the first game. She just already was it. The gameplay undid the narrative we were given about Chloe being a loner in that you can talk to and make friends with pretty much anybody and they all acted like they liked and were genuinely happy to see Chloe. Very rarely were there interactions with Blackwell students that ended with Chloe’s presence not being welcomed, only Wells, Victoria and Nathan showed contempt for Chloe(even with Nathan that goes away when he claps for her at the play) The reason this is done is because the game wouldn’t be fun if Chloe actually was a loner. The core mechanic of Life is Strange is being able to talk to people and experiment with your surroundings. A game where nobody wanted to talk to Chloe works against the core mechanic. But in making her the main character it undoes the weight of the narrative of Chloe being alone until Rachel/Max. I just strongly feel that Deck Nine did not understand Chloe as a character and did not do her justice. We should’ve gotten Chloe at her lowest, evolving from Max’s best friend to the character we know in the first game and Rachel helping lift Chloe through the worse point of her life. Chloe and Rachel together having fun rocking out and Chloe starting to live again and show that Chloe Price loves Rachel Amber and Rachel loves Chloe. Chloe losing Rachel and showing how Chloe has to deal with Rachel missing, how she became in debt to Frank and how she got involved with Nathan and how Chloe ends up in the bathroom.

The game should have 5 episodes. The first 2 episodes focus on Chloe and Rachel’s first year together. Episode 3 focuses on 2011. 4 focuses on 2012 and the final episode focuses on 2013 and Chloe’s breakdown over Rachel’s disappearance. A bonus episode “Firewalk with me” to show us Rachel’s final days and the choices that led her to the Dark Room. Needless to say, those fans who were against LIS 2 would have something to look forward to cause Deck Nine would take their time with BTS in this scenario.

Make it very clear that David is abusive. The problem with their dynamic in BTS is that they go out of their way to make Chloe irrational for not giving David a chance. In BTS Chloe says she hates David because he calls her “girly” and the game practically implies Chloe is at fault for the conflict between Chloe and David for not accepting David’s photo...what kind of abuse apologetic bullshit is that? Okay so start off by saying in her journal that “Joyce really remarried the first asshole she saw in Two Whales.” because by the time of 2010 in the canon of the first game, they are already married. Have it implied in her entry about David that it’s like “living Full Metal Jacket” that alone implies emotional and mental abuse if you’ve seen the Bootcamp scenes. Chloe in the entry would continue to say, life’s been a living hell ever since David entered the picture and Joyce takes his side every time. We would get the impression that David does not understand nor does he care about Chloe's depression and grief for losing William and Max moving away. When fighting with Joyce about David, say “he keeps hitting me and you keep defending him, how do you expect me to get over dad by letting some abusive asshole take his place?” Joyce would respond with “you keep pushing him, what did you think was gonna happen” And worse, David just started the Security Officer job at Blackwell. Needless to say Chloe is not taking any of this well. So when David and Chloe go to Blackhell, he’s basically ordering her around, talking down to her. Telling her “You’ve had two years free of having a father figure in your life. I am your father now. I’ve been showing you what a stable home is like, yet you keep pushing me.” Chloe back talks him and it results in David smacking her. David would then say “Look what you made me do.” Later in the game, Chloe would get herself expelled just to get away from David and David would berate her and call her a loser. Near the end of Episode 3 or 4, Rachel would have dinner with Chloe, Joyce and David. Rachel would see the way David treats Chloe and stands up for her girlfriend. Threatens to call the cops on David if he ever hurts her girlfriend ever again. This of course would spark down David’s obsession with surveillance and his investigation into stalking Rachel, all because he wanted to save his pathetic fucking ass.

Actually give Chloe a transformation. The problem with BTS, is that Chloe is the same character from the first game. We don’t get to see how the innocent and happy Chloe becomes the Chloe from the first game. She’s just like this immediately. We should get a Batman Returns Catwoman like transformation for Chloe. Chloe’s had it with David, Joyce, Blackhell and now Rachel for leaving. So Chloe would basically be destroying her room and tossing everything away that belonged to the old Chloe.

Make the game about Rachel helping Chloe down the worst moment of her life. Chloe’s “Rachel was my angel” comment showed a lot to how Chloe loved Rachel and how much she meant to her. Chloe tells Max that Rachel entered her life when was at her absolute lowest and that it was she who helped her deal with the grief of having lost her father but the entire game is centered around Chloe being the one who is supporting Rachel as she deals with a serious family drama of her own. What Before The Storm should have been. Rachel helping lift Chloe through the worse point of her life. If Rachel had stopped Chloe from committing suicide… as was the commonly believed interpretation to what happened between Chloe and Rachel up until BtS, then Chloe’s ”“she was my angel” would have meant it was truly special and real. But instead they bump into each other at an illegal concert and Rachel distracted some thug who works for Damon and we spend the game finding out who Sera is in a reveal we all saw it coming and only to have Rachel taken out of the third episode where Rachel never talks to her and makes the whole thing feel pointless. What the game should have been was Chloe and Rachel together having fun rocking out, becoming girlfriends and Chloe starting to live again and show that Chloe Price loves Rachel Amber and Rachel loves Chloe.

Do Chloe’s past with Victoria better. A minor change, but they kind of make Chloe and Rachel look like jerks in the Victoria drugging in part 2. If you let Rachel drop out the play, you drug Victoria or back talk her out of doing the play that she was given. Also it lines up with the first game better this way. In LIS, if you choose to take the picture with Victoria in paint, when seeing said picture, Chloe will say “Boo-Yah skank! Karma’s a bitch!” So I guess we can have Victoria bullying Chloe with her mean girl bullshit, Chloe fights back, Victoria gets scared, so Victoria helps get Chloe expelled by reporting her graffiti(as is the reason she was expelled from Blackwell)

When Rachel goes missing, we spend the final episode looking for her. It’s a very sad and tragic episode. We all know there is no hope in finding Rachel, but we still try anyway, in some hope that Rachel is still out there. So Chloe leaves up the posters, is in debt to Frank and tries to steal money from Nathan. Which leads Chloe to that faithful day in the bathroom.

LIS

Chloe does not park in the handicapped space(I don’t even have to tell you why this was a bad idea to begin with)

Chloe stops guilt tripping Max after the first truck ride

If you chose not to come out of the closet or not take the blame, after lashing out at Max, Chloe will apologize for lashing out at us. Same for if we chose not to fire the gun.

Does not get pissy if we take Kate’s call, in fact prior to Chloe’s test, Max would explain the situation with Kate and Chloe would be understanding as she understands being depressed herself and would even help Max out in finding evidence to implicate Nathan and David.

It’s not the handicapped fund, it’s the “Prescott Donation”(aka Sean’s bribery money) this way we can feel less guilty about not stealing from the handicapped fund and Chloe doesn’t look like an ableist

If Chloe does snap after finding about Rachel and says the same things she did about Kate as she did in canon. Max can then lose her shit and stand up to Chloe. Basically says the way she treats her is not okay and if she wants to help her find Rachel and seek justice for Kate, then things are gonna have to change or they are finished. Then Max leaves Chloe behind with Chloe realizing that she needs to change. Ideally something like Bojack Horseman “You can't keep doing this! You can't keep doing shitty things and then feel bad about yourself as if that makes it okay! You need to be better! Chloe, stop. It's not alcohol, drugs, or your parents, David, Rachel or all the bad things that happened to you before. It's you. It's you. I want to find Rachel and get justice for Kate, but if this is how you’re gonna keep treating me...Fuck, man... What else is there to say?“ I know LIS came out way before BJHM or that particular episode, but it’s the perfect example of how Max could’ve stood up to Chloe’s toxic behavior

After the returning from her time jump, Max returns to her dorm and goes to Chloe. Chloe properly apologizes for how she’s been acting since they got back together and agree to put everything in the past so they can work together to find Rachel and give Kate justice

Max is given the option to enter the Everyday Hero’s Contest. If you saved Kate, Max with Kate’s permission, Kate would let Max take a photo of her in the hospital. And Max enters her photo at the last minute when she returns to Blackwell. If you did not save Kate, then Chloe would give up the Butterfly photo so Max can enter the photo. Either way Max will win the contest. Max wins the Everyday Hero Contest. Max gives an inspiring speech about how everyone can be a hero and that Kate has always inspired her, how much she loves Kate and that she hopes that Kate knows that she is loved by everyone in Blackwell and everyone, especially Chloe, Warren, Victoria would cheer Max on. This would also give Jefferson the means and opportunity to drug Max without killing Chloe at the Junkyard. Chloe doesn’t die because it’s a public place and Jefferson has Max where he wants her. It honestly works better than Jefferson magically appearing at the Junkyard with no explanation(and it never being brought up).

What could happen in Episode 5 is basically the same thing, only in an act of desperation, Chloe goes to David to help save Max. They put their differences aside to save the person Chloe loves the most and David gets to stop Jefferson. Chloe could not be there to save Rachel, but she can be there for Max. Chloe saves Max and Jefferson goes to jail. Together Max and Chloe goes directly into the eye of the storm to save everyone at the diner. However instead of using Warren’s photo to save Chloe, Max uses it to warn David about Jefferson and to reach the Lighthouse. The same choice is given to us and instead of a copout ending, Max actually uses the photo to save Chloe and the town. Warns David and David barges in and catches Nathan redhanded with the gun and uncovers the truth of Rachel, Kate and Jefferson. Max warns the town of the storm. Everyone listens. After Jefferson’s arrest, the police clears the bunker of Jefferson’s predatory display and the town hides in the bunker. The town is rebuilt. A town can be rebuilt, but you can’t build another Chloe. Jefferson and Sean are rotting in prison and Nathan is getting the help he desperately needed. Chloe finally moves on from her hatred of David and the Price family gets to start over. A montage of Max and Chloe together either romantic or platonic and if you chose to romance Warren, a little clip of Going Ape, if just friends, then we see Warren, Kate, Max and Chloe Going Ape! It ends on Rachel’s funeral and the final scene shows the Doe spirit as both Max and Chloe smile as Rachel’s spirit finally rests.

Chloe’s arc is lashing out at a cruel world, learning to let the right people in, healing and letting go of her hate and starting over. It just doesn’t work if she has to die to actually learn this and also that character arc goes out the window of you choose the save Chloe ending (and makes max look like an awful person for killing all her friends and Joyce). Chloe gets to live, she’s at peace knowing that Rachel was brought to justice, she’s willing to start over with David, she has her best friend and mother in her life. If you chose the Pricefield route, then Chloe is at peace with Rachel passing on and she starts anew with Max. If not, then Chloe still has her best friend and knows she will always be there and she will always be there for Max in return.

Also, I like the idea of Max and Chloe road tripping together as was demonstrated in LIS 2, but I also like the idea of Warren, Victoria and Kate joining them as well and they live in their own commune. Maybe Max, Warren and Chloe are in a poly relationship, while Kate and Victoria are together!!!

#Life Is Strange #Chloe Price #Amberprice #Pricefield #Anonymous #Asks

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leverage-ot3 · 4 years ago

Text

notable moments from The Jailhouse Job

leverage 3.01

I love how they opened up s3 with all of their “codenames”/job titles

- - - - -

Hardison: Cameras are watching yesterday's footage. Locking down... which elevator?

[Elevator Shaft]

Parker: Huh? What? Oh, um, um, yes, I-I'm a go for elevator one.

[Courthouse Hallway]

Hardison: Were you asleep?

[Elevator Shaft]

Parker: It's very peaceful up here. Besides, I sleep better upside down.

(Parker is wearing her rigs, hanging upside down, elevator rises)

I adore her, okay + SHE SLEEPS BETTER UPSIDE DOWN ??? !!!

- - - - -

(Nate walks into the elevator with two men, one armed, the other the one whose gun Sophie stole. Parker jumps on the top of the elevator, opens it, and tasers both men before picking the lock on Nate’s cuffs)

Nate: You know, you could have just taken the keys off the guy's belt.

Parker: Eh, this is faster.

parker LOVES tasering people + it’s faster for her to pick a lock than to look for keys

- - - - -

(Hardison is walking along the sidewalk checking his phone, setting off car alarms)

Guard: What the hell?

(the guards at the door go to check, and Eliot disarms them, knocking one into traffic. Sophie pulls up in a car and just as Nate and Parker exit the building)

eliot’s F A C E when he accidentally makes the guy get hit by a car LMFAO

- - - - -

when it goes from “nate’s apartment” to “leverage hq”

- - - - -

Eliot: Spanish soap opera.

Hardison: Oh, yeah. Check it out, man. Look, it turns out Pepe's twin brother Peppi is actually Guadalupe's baby's daddy.

Eliot: Seriously?

headcanon: hardison and eliot were watching it earlier and eliot says “really” because god spanish soap operas are so dramatic

- - - - -

(Parker comes in with a bag over her shoulder)

Eliot: He doesn’t want to do it.

Parker: Oh, but I love jumping on elevators.

Hardison: I know.

Parker: This is my special elevator rig he got me for Christmas

we LOVE to see that nate (and sophie ?) get their children presents for christmas

- - - - -

Eliot: All right, look, Nate, you took the fall for us, so...

Hardison: After you lied to us. He's a liar.

Eliot: You took the fall for us. You went to jail so we wouldn't have to. We get that, so we're square. But now you got to let us get you out of prison.

Parker: But if we're gonna do that...

Hardison: And not all of us are convinced that we should.

Parker: Then we have to hit you at your next hearing. That prison's escape-proof.

Nate: Guys, no.

hardison is salty but eliot forgives him for the most part

I love it when the ot3 sits together

(also I take note when they’re in the same frame in these posts in case I (or anyone else) wants to reference when they are together for gif and or fanvid purposes)

- - - - -

Nate: I committed a crime, I got caught, and now I am gonna serve my time.

Sophie: Nate, what kind of world would it be if everybody that committed a silly little crime went to prison, huh? Complete madness. (Parker scoffs, Hardison makes an incredulous gesture with his hands)

- - - - -

Hardison: Okay, you know... You know what? Fine, Nate.

[Leverage HQ]

Hardison: We're still out here. We're doing the job. We help people nobody else helps. That's important. You want to stay around and miss out just because you got to figure out your guilty conscience, that's your loss.

Nate: Yeah, Hardison, I wa...

(Hardison severs the connection)

- - - - -

Worth: I am not a warden. I am CEO of National Prison Properties. I built this company, five prisons, from the ground up.

(The Italian laughs and lights a lighter)

Italian: Impressive. (lights a cigarette) You know what they say... That Rome was not built in a single day. But it burned in one. (blows out the lighter)

BADASS

- - - - -

(Billy pushes a cart of books through the room)

Billy (to Nate): Hey.

Nate: Hey.

Billy: Seamus Heaney. That Irish guy you asked for. (hands him a book)

Nate: Oh, excellent. Wow, thanks... Billy, right?

Billy: Uh, yeah.

Nate: Well, thank you. This could not have been easy to find.

Billy: Well, you seemed pretty down. And we got to stand up for each other, right?

Nate: Yeah. You're all right, Billy.

Billy: Yeah. Wish the judge thought so. (pushes cart away)

Nate: Yeah, I appreciate it

- - - - -

(Nate watches as Billy leaves the room, followed by some tough looking inmates)

Nate: I think something's happening.

Bellows: Thanks for your input. You can move on now.

(Nate follows them out of the common area)

prisons are the fucking worst but PRIVATE PRISONS are double that and john rogers agrees and that’s yet another reason why I love him

- - - - -

hardison tried taking up making a model helicopter in his spare time. cute

+ hardison likes to use the word hinky

- - - - -

Nate (puts hand on Billy’s shoulder): I'm sorry.

Billy: For what?

(Nate stabs Billy in the side)

Billy: Oh, sh...

(Billy falls to the floor, holding his side)

Nate: Oh. Uh, Hardison, why don't you gather the team and get me background checks on the... on the warden?

Billy: You stabbed me!

Nate: Oh, come on, just... just a little. It's... it's fine

this is the same as the “lightly stabbed” meme

- - - - -

Worth: The US has the fastest growing prison population in the world. Well, it's like the real-estate boom.

(Hardison plugs a flash drive into Worth’s computer)

Worth: Except, of course, the problem with real estate... You eventually run out of land. You never run out of people to put in prison.

Hardison: Hmm. We haven't had much success with private prisons concept in England. Our investment firm has large real-estate holdings for construction of facilities.

Worth: You see, any yahoo can lay some concrete and throw up some razor wire. The profit comes in proper management.

(Hardison looks at his phone, which is accessing Worth’s computer)

Worth: For example, the big money for us is in prison labor.

Hardison: Sorry?

Worth: Goods and services made by prisoners in America. $2 billion a year. One out of every five office chairs and desks "Made in America", made by convicts. And those jobs are not going to the Chinese. Bottom's up

john rogers was calling this bullshit out in like 2010 and still NOBODY LISTENS

- - - - -

(two guards are standing outside the room Billy and Nate are in)

Billy: Man, is this really the best plan?

Nate: Listen, the infirmary's under lockdown. There's cameras on both sides of the door, extra guards because of the pharmaceuticals. It's the safest place in the prison, really

- - - - -

Eliot (to guard): Abernathy, MD.

eliot still uses this alias that he picked up for The Rashomon Job

- - - - -

Eliot: We can just... well, you know what? It's fine. Just right in here, sir. And please have a seat.

(Nate sits in the chair and Eliot lays it back)

Eliot: It's just in case the guards come in. (buckles restraints on Nate’s wrists) Restraints. Here's an infirmary manual. (turns the light on Nate’s face and picks up a drill)

Nate: That's, uh, for the... for the guards, right?

Eliot: You know what I usually do, Nate, to people that run a con on their own team? Almost get people killed 'cause they're out of control?

Nate: Are we okay, Eliot?

(Eliot puts down the drill and plugs in a flash drive, typing on the keyboard. Images come up on the monitor)

eliot is mostly over it but would he ever give up a chance to fuck with him? nope.

- - - - -

[Judge’s Office]

Sophie: Key card and checkbook.

Parker: Keys and appointment book. Ooh, and this? (holds up keys) Safe deposit box key.

Sophie: Ooh, I love a secret.

(Sophie sits down at desk while Parker gets started on the safe)

COMPETENT WOMEN

- - - - -

Hardison: Yeah. See, Rockford can't drop below 70% occupancy. If they do, they lose their state funding. No state money, they close. And they came very close two years ago.

[Nate’s Cell]

Nate: Hmm. So, private prisons are like the hotel business. They live and die on occupancy, head count. Now, Worth wasn't gonna lose $100 million in profit just 'cause he didn't have enough hard-cases to fill the prison, so he puts a few judges on the arm to send him non-violent offenders, easy prisoners to supervise.

[Leverage HQ]

Parker: Yeah, but why these people?

Eliot: Because they're citizens. 'Cause they're honest, middle-class citizens. These are the people, they don't want to cause any trouble. They can't afford a lawyer, so if some judge sends them away, well, yes, sir. They were taught to trust the courts. They believe in the system

- - - - -

[Leverage HQ]

(Parker wearing a robe standing in front of a green screen, trying to pose. At one point she does a duck face.)

Sophie: You remember what I showed you. Just try some different-different shapes and-and-and that pout that we talked about. Ohh, no, not that one. (to Hardison) I didn't show her that.

Sophie: Kind of... just, you know, just relax. Try one up, one down. Maybe... So...

(Parker continues to pose)

Sophie: Ooh, yeah. Shoot that.

(Hardison snaps photos)

Sophie: Ooh, I like that. That's gonna work.

(Sophie uses the remote to place Parker into a photo of Worth)

Sophie: Okay. Yes.

Hardison: Looks good.

Sophie: I can work with that.

(Parker drops her clothes to the floor)

Hardison: Whoa. Oh! Whoa.

Sophie: Parker!

Hardison: Why am I looking away

this scene is iconic lmfao

also hardison you’re not looking because you’re a goddamn GENTLEMAN and we love you for it

+ she takes off all her clothes and puts on a baret LMFAO

- - - - -

parker and hardison smiling at each other as they map out the prison

THEY CLASP HANDS HAPPILY

- - - - -

Parker: Who's Sophie?

Hardison: You remember, we're not supposed to use her real name with, uh...

Parker: Right, Nate hasn't earned it yet. Forgot. Sophie. Sophie. So-phie. So-o-o-phie. Sophie. S-s-s-sophie. Sophie

we love parker trying to act cool and normal and fumble about it. she’s baby

- - - - -

Eliot: All right, we cut that wire.

Hardison: No. No, look, once a lockdown is called, all these sensors go hot and those door bolts drop into place.

Parker: I got it! The furnace room. There's no sensors because it's too hot. They crawl straight down along the heating pipes until they reach the sewage system. Ha ha!

[Prison Common Area]

Nate: Now, Parker, it's a 150 degrees in there.

[Leverage HQ]

Parker: The average human can withstand that for 27 seconds.

(Hardison and Eliot look away)

Parker: What? Come on

the ot3 is trying your honor

also parker is adorable playing with the model helicopter remote while laying down on the table

- - - - -

Worth: Then fire them. What's the use of being non-union if I can't fire people?

GROSS

- - - - -

Nate: Parker, please tell me you're at Hardison's new van.

[Exterior Prison]

Parker: Yeah, it's really nice.

[Prison Common Area]

Nate: Did you bring it?

[Exterior Prison]

Parker: Wait, are we doing that now?

[Prison Common Area]

Nate: Yeah, we're gonna breaking out right now.

[Exterior Prison]

Parker: Yes! (gets into van)

SHES SO EXCITED + she likes the new van!!!

- - - - -

Nate: A little sloppy.

Eliot: New glasses. (takes them off and looks at them)

OKAY SO DOES HE NEED GLASSES OR NOT ???

also he did the lil flip thing with the security guard nightstick

- - - - -

Computer: Lockdown.

Nate: Okay. (pushes door open and holds up a folded piece of paper) Newspaper folded eight times can support a ton of weight. Come on.

(they head down the hall)

- - - - -

Sophie: Motion sensor. Nate.

Nate: Steam's filling up now.

[Prison Kitchen]

(Nate walks slowly toward exit)

Nate: Motion sensor beat.

[Freezer]

(Nate enters and grabs a plastic bag, draping it around him)

[Leverage HQ]

Sophie: Breathe.

[Prison Mechanical Room]

(Nate pushes out a grate and enters the room, the bag covered in ice)

Nate: And heat sensor cleared. Last stop.

(throws off bag and exits the room)

- - - - -

parker was having so much fun with the model helicopter I love it

- - - - -

Hardison: You, yeah. Ha. See, I like this. I like when we pretend to kiss.

Parker: "Pretend"?

Hardison: Heeeey

- - - - -

Nate: What about my team?

Italian: They lead dangerous lives. Thieves die all the time.

Nate (steps close to her): Now that you should not have said.

Italian: I don't know. You seem highly motivated. (walks away)

- - - - -

Sophie: Damien Moreau? Are you out of your mind? Nobody touches Moreau!

Hardison: Nate, Moreau finances the Sicilians, the Russian mafia, the Colombian cartels.

Eliot: Yeah, he moves money for the North Koreans, stolen artifacts for Iraq, nuclear materials for Iran.

Hardison: Moreau is The Big Bad. He is the central bank for international crime.

Parker: N-nate, these files are CIA, FBI, Mossad, Japanese Security

poor eliot this season is gonna be Rough™ for him :(

- - - - -

Sophie: She's blackmailing us?

Nate: She's... she's... she's sort of... Yeah. Yeah.

Parker: Sucks to be on the wrong side of that, finally.

- - - - -

Eliot: We can't go straight at a guy like Moreau. They'll vaporize us.

ELIOT was the one that finally gave in and gave up some information on how to go at this. eliot. because he knows moreau. he knows how that man works. so he knows he has to be the one to start the conversation, even though he hates it with every fiber of his being.

#leverage #leverage 3.01 #leverage 3x01 #the jailhouse job #leverage season 3 #season 3 #notable moments #mine

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kanene-yaaay-o-retorno · 4 years ago

Text

The Colors of my Soul(mates) [1]

[Second oneshot]

[AO3 link]

Kanene’s Notes:

Nope, I do not regret the pun. Okay, okay! I’ve plaining this AU for almost an year so I’m pretty excited to post it!! dfghjsdfrtyucfvgbhjv yaaaay!! Thank you very very much @olliedollie1204 for such a positive feedback and awesome ideas. it helped me a lot!!

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic has Virgil, Logan, Patton and Roman (only a brief mention of Remy) in a platonic relationship (yet), but it can be viewed as romantic, if you wish.

* Warnings: A bit of swearing and depreciative thoughts. It’s mostly fluff and hurt/comfort, tho.

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing Thomas Sanders in his series of Sanders Sides.

* Something around 4.500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Say to someone important how much you love them, be safe, talk with the one that you love, drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

What can do a creature if not, between creatures, love? - Carlos Drummond de Andrade

- What the fu-

Virgil only discovered he had more than one Soulmate when he was twenty years old, more specifically the exact moment he took a wrong turn and kept going even knowing he was in the wrong way because one hour it would lead him to somewhere Virgil would recognize before his mortal being inevitably starved to death in the middle of nowhere and his eyes got dragged from the visions from thousands of futures created by his mind to a Teddy Bear Store - they seemed to replicate worse than bacteria during Valentine’s Day - and two bears from the crimson shelter suddenly dyed themselves in two milliseconds as he slightly glanced at them.

Two of them. Virgil felt his entire face burn in hot shades of embarrassment with drops of disbelief, almost as if all the people running, stumbling, locked in their own worlds and swearing while walked in the sideway because ‘some stupid teenager decided to just stop and block their way’ could, by only looking at him, stare deep into his soul and realize the one staring astonished the store already carried in his fate another one more Soulmate at home.

One completely different in shape and form, even if also blue, however in a light, sky blue completely opposite shade from the new navy one staring him down - Virgil knew plentily their link wasn’t bonded yet, albeit he was equally sure that the person behind those black glooming teddy bear’s eyes were already judging him, - wondering why, between all the people, he was their soulmate. The other red one was very much likely crackling in his face when an employee came and pointedly turn the adult’s attention to the sign in big, graphed words clued in front of their store:

“You dye, you buy.”

Virgil signed, pushing his hoodie down further, wondering how much time it would take of him hitting his head on the wall to finally pass out. This option sounded much more attractive when he realized that this new ‘discovery’ about himself would cost all his month’s saves.

He asked, to the Universe, the stars, the Earth and whoever was seeing him in that exact moment: why?

Was it a kind of prank? A punishment from fate when, years and tears ago, Virgil lifted his chin up and dared the Universe to give him more soulmates as he locked all his uncolored – although never really free of some weak drops of paint from what one day they came to be – simply stuffed animals, - and nothing more, anymore, - away and promised he would never, ever allow himself to go all through this shit again?

But… That had been… years ago. Almost a decade since that soft voice he got to know so well, the impulsive acts, long conversations and warm feelings.

But…

Time has passed, that is true. Nevertheless, deep down has he really changed?

Virgil stared at the bag carried so close to his chest since his bare hands were sweating and shaking way too much for this task. Yes, he knew his Soulmates won’t feel anything until both of them decided to ‘give the First Step’, accepting to link their souls and fates, for the longest as it lasts. However, he didn’t want to risk it, because what if they felt? What if he in some way broke the Soulmate System when got two at the same time and now everything was messed up and they could already feel his touches even through the bag and the first impression Virgil would gave to them was ‘That anxious, weird boy and his creepy, sweaty hands’ and-

A girl almost hit him as she passed running at his side, making his arms protectively hug further the teddy bears closer to him, arms protectively involving them, the soft touch somehow calming his tumulted thoughts. The lost man took a deep breath.

Clear your mind. Rational thoughts. Focus on the two sides of the coin. Three people wouldn’t be able to break a millennial, unknown system, don’t matter how good he was in screwin… No, a voice that sounded suspiciously a lot like his psychologist calmly pointed, not like that. Virgil huffed, trying again. He was a magnet of problems and bad…Okay, also wrong. Neutral thoughts, focus on neutral thoughts. Come on. Come on.

It was okay.

They wouldn’t feel him until they gave the first step. Right, that… sounded like a start. He didn’t do anything. Now, what Virgil needed to do was go to his house, clean his bed in order to find a good place where he could put and ignore them and then he would get his headphones, listen his playlists and wonder where the fuck his life was going.

It was okay. Everything would stay okay as long as he didn’t give the First Step.

Virgil unconsciously hugged tighter the teddy bears, his fingers finding way and drowning themselves in the soft, cozy fur, combing them in light, soothing touches as he continued his way.

Okay. Everything was okay.

[~*~]

Plurinfanto, or Multiple Souls, it’s the nomination used for the cases when a person has diverse soulmates at the same time and in a same period.

The first known case was with Pharaoh Cleopatra when multiples of her woolen fabric started to dye themselves in various colors and shades. In Ancient Roman, it was believed that the occurrences were blessings from Venus in a sign of prosperity and abundance. Grand, longstanding parties were executed through days nonstop in order to get together those intertwined souls. When the connection broke and the colors disappeared, it meant that days of pain and foreboding were waiting forward.

It is not known for certain the exact moment when the meaning changed, albeit researchers believe it was around the fall of the Roman Empire, when all the invasions resulted in a cultural reconstruction which led to the loss from much of their costumes.

CLICK HERE TO DISCOVER HOW TO HAVE THE SOULMATE OF YOUR DREAMS!!!!

[~*~]

The computer made a soft ‘click’ as Virgil closed it and sat on his bed, adjusting slightly his position to stare the three vivid, brilliant stuffed beings contrasting to the general dark theme of his room.

Virgil growled, resting his back on the cold wall, the shivers calming his flowing thoughts about all the variants this whole thing had. No to mention that people change with time, leading to the souls who they “relate” to change as well, meaning that you can have someone in your life for years and then, one month, or weeks or the next day, you can wake up only to discover you and the said person don’t “match” anymore.

And NO ONE talked about this just because it was a freak tabu to doesn’t have ‘an only one soulmate who will be with you until the end of your existence’. Oh, for fuck sake. Virgil ran his hand through his hair, wincing when he accidently pulled some tangled strands. That sounds like a line of commercial, does anyone believe that bullshit for real?

“Hello dear, newer fellow!!” The popping thought broke his line of reasoning, jumping excitedly in his mind and automatically pulling him out of his wanders. It has a strong and full of… about everything, tune demanding attention. Virgil felt a warm kiss on his forehead, meaning one soulmate – a deep part of him turned his attention to the red colored teddy bear, - had given the First Step. The one who in some moment changed his position so now he was sitting on the floor felt his face get hot again, heart thumping strongly in his chest as his arm moved, fingers stopping inches away from the fur, questioning if he was ready to retribute the gesture.

[~*~]

Many history icons have reports of being Pluriers, as shown in the book ‘The Romance in the History of Those Who Wrote It’, by historian Henry Senyura. The subject is also beginning to gain more visibility after the protest from the teacher Joan A. in 2010, who got touched towards the situation of some of her pupils being forced to choose only one among their Soulmates for the six-month annual exchange, by the end of that period most of them lost or weakened their bonding due lack of communication, small changes of personality and continuous absence. She held a protest at the front of the school, stating that no one had the right to interfere in ‘matters of the heart’.

A lot of fiction works are beginning to address the topic more frequently, as in I’m Not One, a movie directed by Devon Stan; The Seven Colors of Rainbow, a book written by Lílian Lee and the psychological analysis Life’s Watch, recently found between drafts by the famous writer Robin Green, published after their husband’s authorization, Josué Green.

[~*~]

Logan hummed. As it seems, this was a relatively common thing, since the concept of Soul Mates surpassed the barriers of unity and time, being ‘souls who in a way or other intertwined themselves in some part of their life. Sometimes it didn’t necessarily mean a romantic relationship, as the majority of society and media pointed, but it also didn’t hold any assurance that all of them were platonic.

He massaged the bridge of his nose. Remy wasn’t in the dorm so everything was silent enough for him to hear his own thoughts.

It has been a remarkable amount of years since he got his last soulmates, - except for Remy, however they both considered this occurrence as a separate incident - well, until, of course, this day. At least it was a good thing he always carried in his bag extra easy manageable stuffed animals or else maybe the System would dye one of clothes, what would be less than ideal for him in the middle of his philosophy debate. But things got even more interesting when, after his classes, as he arrived at the small, pleasantly well-organized store next to his university, one more stuffed animal colored itself right before him.

He didn’t exactly understand why. Logan considered himself an owner of a… quite strong, strict personality, this added with his difficulty in managing his and one another emotions usually tended to bring some complex tribulations in his rela-

Anyway, that is beside the important matter. The one laying his chin on his crossed fingers undid his pose for a bite of time in order to adjust his glasses, barely fixating his gaze on the two plushies in the desk before him, his third – Pat - resting a few centimeters away, closer to Logan’s fingers, who were barely touching. Mind running. Asking, reflecting, wondering what was the exact amount of time to be acceptable to give his First Step?

‘The First Step’.

Logan never really understood from where and how that expression emerged. It didn’t come from the words’ etymology nor some semantic detour. His most concrete hypothesis consisted of the phrase being derived from old romances.

“Did you know it used to be called the ‘First Kiss’?! But that confused a lot of people who really believed that, to be able to talk and interact with their soulmates they would have to kiss each other, like the Sleeping Beauty! I always got confused in this movie when I was a child, by the way! That ended up messing with a bunch of relationships before they even started, since a lot of peeps don’t feel comfortable enough with strangers kissing them. However, they also speeded up a bunch of them as well…” Logan blinked, his attention escaping from his previous thoughts to the light sky blue plushie of Baby Yoda, for a moment surprised with the sudden input. He felt fingers carefully holding his arms and a bit of ghost movements as Pat probably moved his representation to somewhere else, a hug and warmth engulfing the one yet absolving the new information moments later.

“That was… enlightening.” His voice danced across the room. Even though he was completely aware they could chat telepathically, the childish act of saying the words out loud still comforted him, in a way. “Thank you for your contribution.”

He took a deep breath and closed the tab of research on his cellphone, internally thanking from the escaping of his turmoil of thoughts, his free hand carefully combing the Baby Yoda’s head fur, almost methodic.

“Looo, no!” The other protested with no heat in his tune, leading a toothless smile to resurface in Logan’s features. “Stop doing this. You know I end up sleeping every time!”

“Oh no, what a tragedy.” He deadpanned, already plugging his phones and changing to a most relaxed position on his chair, his eyes traveling across the countless movies on the device before him. “In which episode did we stop?”

“I’m going to fight you.” Pat sounded like he was pouting.

“How so?” Logan asked, trying to hide his amusement.

Silence followed his words.

“Pat?”

“What is the skeleton’s favorite instrument?”

“Pat, don’t you fucking da-”

“Language! It’s a xiloBONE!”

Logan audible growled, fast in his final decision. “I’m going to drop you out the window.”

“I’m going to hug you!” And immediately the one rolling his eyes felt himself being squished in a strong bear hug, huffing only half annoyed.

“You are an incorrigible heathen, let me go in this exact instant.” His answer was a ‘butterfly kiss’ – as Pat was fond in calling them – on his forehead. “Urg, affection.” Yet he smiled and mirrored the act, lightly poking the other’s side.

“We’re on episode 19.”

[~*~]

Roman stared the paper, his pencil’s tip stopped in the middle of the biggest petal’s flower, his eyes narrowing in the hope of a clearest way of how to convert the vague idea he had in transforming the night full of stars in a flower. No to tell he also would need to choose a good pallet of colors indication for it, later, and probably re-do all the process over and over and over until got the best result as possible. A yawn found its way from his lips and the designer stretched, getting up to drink a bit of water and rubbing his eyes, wondering if it was really worth it to make a black tea to help him through the night.

A glimpse of color caught his attention. The navy blue teddy bear on his couch, the main inspiration of his newest tattoo. Roman wondered why it wasn’t resting in front of him while he drew. A corner of his brain, obscured by the tiredness, telling he had a previous good reason for this choice although his actual self carried absolutely no idea of why.

Well, if he couldn’t remember it, it means the reason wasn’t THAT good, right?

Roman held the stuffed animal, spinning with it across the room for a couple of minutes, imagining who would be the person behind it. A king, a queen, a non-binary royalty? Did they like Disney? Musicals? Sing? Would they chat for hours at first with a few words exchanged or would they take a bit to warm at each other? Was navy blue their favorite color or…

Or…

Navy blue.

Oh.

He fixed his glare on the plushie, his hands feeling and slowly drawing in the soft fur of it.

Navy blue, huh? A humorless chuckled flew in the air. It could have no significance, it could be a world of it. It probably didn’t mean what he, for a moment, a so silly, stupid moment, wished it meant. Of course, one day this would happen, right? It was something normal, something expected. Not the magical, right out of the story books or his old daydreams, occurrence.

This wasn’t a second chance. The Universe doesn’t give you second chances. He wasn’t the same boy from eleven years ago, holding his own costumed teddy bear crying his eyes out, hugging he – No, it – the closest as possible, wishing with all his heart and soul for the color, the voice, the thoughts, the rambling, their bickering, the forgiveness to come back again.

No, he grew up. He moved on. He got better.

Then why did a part of him still felt this way? Like he was about to hear the excited giggles, the soft reprimand, that lovely, deep and so truly -and sometimes boring, Roman had to admit – questions? Why would a part of him still say that he could have it all again if he just… waited long enough, hoped high enough, dreamed long enough…

…If he was enough.

There aren’t more than seven billion colors in the world. Roman would be stupid if he really believed there was a path where he wouldn’t stumble in that so (un)fortunate well-known shade of blue again.

Roman growled, his forehead making a loud, dry thumping sound as hit his desk. The one who should be asleep hours ago had absolutely no energy to battle against those thoughts, again. At least for now. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the teddy bear laid on the cold tabletop before him. Well, what a better way to get rid of your own means thoughts than put some stranger’s unpredictable thoughts in the middle of it? Roman slightly pushed the bunch of flowers and some warmup sketches he had out of the way, carefully carrying the representation next to him, nodding. Honestly, that was the best idea he had for a while, why did he even put the lovely thing away?

Awake Roman was so silly, thinking that… something he couldn’t quite recall right now would be a bad idea, he pointed as snorted softly, pressing his lips on the teddy’s forehead, the quote he knew by heart flying from them in a natural flow.

“It is not immortal, since it’s flame. But let it be infinite while it lasts.”

A warm sensation rested on his own forehead moments later, leading the sleepy form to hum happily.

“Is it… poetry?” Oh shit, Roman widened his eyes. His soulmate heard that?? Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Roman mentally facepalmed himself. So that was why he usually said it before the First Step!

“Uhh, yeah. Of course. Fidelity Sonnet by Vinícius Moraes.”

“I see. Classicism, I presume. A literature of very soundly pleasant rhymes, indeed. The first sonnet was probably created by the humanist Italian poet Francesco Petrarca, although it got even more known in the western literature after the works of Camões, who- ”

“He is from Modernism, actually.” Roman didn’t know why he suddenly sounded so defensive. Logan felt a cold feeling run his body when the other’s hands let go of him, for a piece of second wondering if it was supposed for him to do the same with the red narwhal plushie on his hold.

“A very common mistake to make due the lack of context.” He retorted, unable to formulate another answer. He had, of course, thought, balanced options and chosen the best topics to discuss with his new soulmates when they bonded. However, his fingers firmly gripped the pen, its tip tapping on the first topic written in the notebook partially forgotten in front of him, the poetry figuratively threw him out of his tracks, leading the decision to be the most impartial as possible due his… not so impartial past memories with that specific shade of red an even more difficult task than it already was.

“Yes. Sure. Sorry, I- I’m just… very tired right now.”

“You should go sleep, then.”

The other snorted with the direct, immediate response. “I should, shouldn’t I? Gotta work, though.”

Some part of Logan’s brain registered the new fact, separating and keeping it in a special place so he would remember to write it down in the new folder he bought, later.

“I see.” … poetry? That wasn’t a hard topic to talk about. The one now nervously cleaning the very clear lenses twisted his mouth. He could talk about this for hours. No, correction: he already had previously talked about this for hours non stop.

Logan strangely felt the urge to rub his face and scream. It has been years, - eleven years and 10 months to be precise – and exactly eight years since the one wearing glasses learned poetry because of him. Because of his constant habit of reciting Shakespeare before they would go to bed, until Logan brought himself to research and decorate all the poems he could muster, taking the task to now wake Prince – the name still carried a strong taste in his tongue – in the same way every single day. Before they realize, that becomes something between them. There were times when both didn’t talk, content in only reciting some verses and hear the other complete them. A part of Logan, that illogical and unfortunately full of feelings one wondered how their rap battles would be if they found each other right now.

Did Prince even maintain his liking the same things he one day did? Does he still recite poetry? Does he maintain the same dreams? The same habits? Does he even remember about him?

Highly improbable.

“You can call me Lo.”

Roman slowly blinked, getting out the fog surrounding his brain to realize he was mindless staring at the pan’s boiling water, surprised the other still there. Well, it seems like he hasn't screwed terribly everything yet.

“Lo? Like Lowrance?”

“Even though my name does contain ‘Lo’ in it, no. It’s ‘Lo’ like Logic. I came to believe it’s a good idea the nomination after a predominant characteristic, since we can’t actively exchange our real names through the Soulmate System.”

Roman’s breath hitched, a memory with yellow-ish edges and nostalgic smell unrolling in front of him.

…

‘I think we should choose you a name with more personality in it, ya know?’ He threw himself on his bed, kicking his legs on the air before immediately scoping the plushie and laying it on his stomach. ‘Like a characteristic!’

‘I don’t see what is wrong with the nickname I choose.’

‘No, no! There is nothing wrong with it! But that could be something just between us!’ Then he gasped, picturing that, if he was inside a movie there would be a lamp shining right above his hair in this moment. ‘We could call you Ro!! You wanted to be a robot, right?’

His soulmate growled and Roman felt a few pokes on his arm, the verbal protest doesn’t taking long before accompanying it. ‘I was three years old!’

‘And I’m never letting you live this down.’ He beamed, both knowing the annoyed scoff he got as response held no real heat. ‘Besides, we could even match our names!!’

‘That would be very counterproductive.’ Roman felt his hair being softly smoothed, a usual indication the other was losing himself in his thoughts. ‘Nicknames are supposed to help us. Having two equal names is not the most efficient thing.’

Roman dramatically scoffed, picking the stuffed animal and half hugging it, his free hand occupying itself in making a couple of gestures to no one, since his soulmate couldn’t exactly see them. ‘It’s not about being productive, Bear! It’s about feelings!!’

‘And since when,’ a light poke was delivered on his belly, making him squeak and mess with the teddy bear’s hair in revenge ‘Everything isn’t feelings for you, your highness?’

…

“Okay,” Roman and his self past disappearing with the fading memory said, in synchrony “You shall call me by Prince, then.”

Suddenly he felt himself falling, his hands quickly holding on the tabletop as the cold, nauseous feeling took over his stomach, more like a punch on it, his veins being filled with amounts of adrenaline for a glimpse of a second.

“Excuse me? Warn a guy next time you decide to just drop his representation, dude! Damn.” Roman shook himself, trying to bring his body to calm down.

“Sorry, I got… startled.” Logan gulped. The word ‘Prince’ echoing on his mind as a broken vinyl disc. What were the chances? That couldn’t be such a common nickname, right? Nor color. Nor interests. What were the chances? What could be the chances? Maybe he was just projecting, being played, tricked by a dangerous partnership between his own brain and emotions. Maybe he was just jumping to conclusions due the nostalgic feeling fogging his actions, his thoughts. Perhaps-

“Hey, Lo? Are you there?”

“Yes.” Logan answered, his fingertips colliding quickly with the fabric of his pants as he visualized his options. “Yes, I am.”

“Hm. Okay, then. I’m… glad to know.”

Silence. Logan took a wobbly breath.

“Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back; Wherein he puts alms for oblivion; A great-size monster of ingratitudes:”

“Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd; As fast as they are made, forgot as soon.” Roman continued without even noticing until the words danced in the air, just like the years haven’t passed.

Then he understood.

His heart stopped for a second, his eyes widening and his voice disappearing, as if his whole being was afraid to break the moment, the spell; as if this was a dream and a miscalculate step would make everything fade.

“Bear?” Roman felt a light poke on his cheek.

“Hello, Prince.”

Roman choked a laugh, quickly crawling the teddy bear next to his chest, hugging it both firmly and yet so caring, curling around its - no, him - feeling an equal warmth involve his form as he hided his face on the soft fur, giggling and hugging, feeling so happy, so alive and right and good and he would never, ever, ever again let him go.

“I missed you, bitch. Never scare me like this again.”

“I… missed you, as well.” Logan tried to not let the emotion take over his tune, his hand petting the narwhal plushie softly, the words had abandoning him, as it seems. “This reunion is a… good surprise.”

“Oh, shut up, I know you’re having a blast somewhere in that logic soul of yours, too.”

Logan huffed, grinning. “Stop crying on my hair, your troglodyte.”

“Make me, I dare you.”

“Always so dramatic.” They both rolled their eyes, letting the moment be bathed in the deep waters of a comfortable silence.

“Eleven years.”

“We have so, so much to talk about!! Oh, my goodness gracious, I’m going to get my tea. Do you remember about that play I wrote about zombie princes and a dragon witch? You will NOT fucking believe what happened with it!”

“Good thing I have you to explain to me then.” Roman stopped, a gigantic smile taking over his features as he closed his eyes to feel everything even more.

“Yeah, I agree.”

Somewhere in the world Patton and Virgil smiled during their sleep, unable to control themselves when a gigantic wave of pure joy and delight filled every corner of their hearts, coloring it on the most brilliant gleam, just like their stuffed animals resting peacefully on their grip.

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shadowfae · 3 years ago

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1- Not much tbh, just what you've posted, and 2- To be honest I quite like your long answers. It can definitely wait though, you should get some sleep.

Is your warpriest link a constant thing? Does it ever fade into the background? I'm contemplating forming a second link, something happier than my copinglink, and I'm not sure how to tell when to tell when the line of a link vs a persona is crossed when not worn out of necessity.

And the original ask so I have it on hand. I did take a look at your original context, and if you're cool with it, I'll edit this post with a link for those who may find this is a useful answer and need that on hand. Otherwise, it'll stay a mystery.

But yes, it seems like my Sabe experiences would be a useful thing to talk about here. And in order to do that, I need to go over four things: who and what Sabe is, why he exists the way that he does, what that does for me, and lastly what I think he is in terms of terminology and why.

To start, here is his toyhou.se profile, if you want to read more about his actual story and thoughts and whatnot. But I doubt you'll have the necessary context for that, so let me go into it. RuneScape (RS) is one of the oldest MMORPGs in existence. WoW might be older but I doubt it. Basically it's a medieval magic fantasy that's very long running and you the player end up the World Guardian, aka the guy that stops the gods (who are very powerful folks who just don't die of natural causes and typically stand for some philosophy) from blowing the world up because Guthix, the dead god of balance, asked you to. Well, he voluntold you. And that makes you a major chess piece, Elder Gods get involved, it's a big mess.

But before all that happened, back in 2006 when I was introduced to the game and very shitty at it, well. I liked the lore insofar that I've always liked the lore, it was interesting and I liked thinking about it. I didn't have membership and I sucked at playing so I just read the wiki and the God Letters over and over and sometimes the Postbag from the Hedge. Alongside my two friends, we played at being children of the then-triad of main gods: Saradomin, Guthix, and Zamorak.

I liked Zamorak best, but I didn't think his ideas would be the best for society as a whole, so I ended up playing child of Guthix. Eventually we grew up and grew apart but every couple of years I'd go back to RuneScape, read the lore, settle on what choices I'd make if I could play, and think about being the player character. In 2010 I discovered a fic - dawn by khayr, it's on Ao3 and dA - about Iban, son of Zamorak, right around when I was reading Percy Jackson. Cue him showing up as a soulbond and an older brother figure and guiding me right up until the end of sixth grade. Iban got me through the ruthless bullying that would later set the stage for all my major suicidal-ideation and self-hatred for the entirety of high school: even then, I was more stable than I might've been otherwise, because he interfered.

Saradomin stands for strength through order. Procedures and law and diplomacy and war strategy. He was originally kind of a ripoff of the Christian god, but he's grown to be more of an order-over-peace character and is quite well-written. Guthix stands for strength through balance, and has been all over the board in terms of what he's done and will do. He's kind of a dick, actually, but his heart's in the right place.

Zamorak, as you've heard, is strength through chaos and personal strife. It's no "the strong over the weak" or "the strong take care of the weak", it's flat-out "everyone is strong, and just need the right circumstances to tap into it to be the best they can possibly be". Now, his philosophy is kind of more for warriors and scholars, but if you tilt your head, it applies to everyone. Chronically ill folks will find their chaos in fighting to get up every day and maintain a life. Folks in traumatizing, abusive situations find that chaos in their very survival. Scholars challenge themselves and their fellows and their predecessors trying to find the answers they so need. Nobody in lockstep, no such thing as "we've always done it this way."

A lot of human Zamorakians and Saradominist propaganda says that Zamorak is simply absolute evil: and to be fair, when most of that was written, he kinda was because he was based loosely on the Christian devil. Later writing says that they're typically mistaken on that. Zamorak isn't evil. The very first thing he did upon becoming a god was fulfill a promise and lead a slave rebeliion. (The Avernic uprising, if anyone's curious.) He stands for the downtrodden and says "You are never going to get your dignity by going through the motions and trying to peacefully show you're worth respect. Burn some shit down and prove that you won't stand for this bullshit."

Zamorak in a Saradominist's eyes is someone whose banner you wear when you want to be a crazy murderer. Zamorak in a Zamorakian's eyes is the singing voice who murmurs "Get up, this isn't enough to kill you, you can still do this," when transphobic laws get passed or you hear a slur thrown your way on the street.

And as someone who grew up queer and nonhuman, yeah, that resonates, and the older I get the more I think "Guthixian philosophy is best for a society at large, but Zamorakianism for individuals is good." Because Zamorakianism can't really apply on a theocratic level. It really doesn't. It turns into American bootstrap culture and no social services and all that shitty stuff.

The funny thing is that Zamorak himself has no issues helping out if he thinks you need it. (If he didn't, he wouldn't be cool with asking for help, or giving it when he's asked. Which he does do repeatedly so. The man has more kindness in him than people want to admit.) What I do find fascinating is what he thinks of the actions of some of his longtime subordinates, who clearly support him, but I don't think support his actual philosophy. Because if you ask me, he'd side with the downtrodden humans of Meiyerditch, not the vampire lords that treat them like cattle. He's proven that he likes humans, and doesn't see them as unworthy. I do wonder if Jagex will show us what he might do about that.

Either way. Ahem. Over the course of a decade and a half, I keep going back to RuneScape, refining my philosophy and side, thinking again what I would do playing the game proper. About... I want to say five years ago, Jagex opened up the Sixth Age and I finally noticed, and they rewrote every god's philosophy because they wanted every single one to be actually playable. Not just "hurr durr evil" but actually have a logical line of thought. They probably didn't have pop culture paganism in mind, but the gods of RS are incredibly well-suited to it.

Well, I found that out, and immediately went through every god's philosophy, and reasoned my way through it. What does a worshipper of this god look like? What sort of life would they lead? If i apply this to me, what does that look like from that perspective? Do I understand this? Is it comfortable to exist in?

And as it turns out, I understand Zamorak the most, followed a close second by Armadyl, which was quite surprising. Zaros remains incomprehensible and I don't trust like that. (That's another story.) So I thought about it more, and it stuck even when I wandered off to different fandoms and interests. But what happened was that I ended up internalizing it, unknowingly and without meaning to.

It meant that when, two years later, I ended up in a horrific and traumatizing situation, the anchor I hit that held me together was a mixture of being a Devil - I am a fucking God you will obey me and recognize my power - and Zamorak's core philosophy: this cannot kill me, this cannot stop me, this is pure fucking hell and I am going to laugh in the face of death because people are forged in hellfire and I will walk away knowing what I'm made of.

And I was right. Honestly, out of everyone who was there with me, I think I'm the only one that was that deeply entrenched and walked out without trauma. I do not believe I could have done that had I not internalized Zamorak's philosophy. (That isn't to say if the others had that philosophy they wouldn't be traumatized, because there were absolutely other factors I wouldn't know about and some that I do and didn't do them any favours; but I am saying that it saved my ass and without it, I might not have been okay.)

I walked out of that with zero regrets. Zero. Even now, I don't regret a thing. Because it doesn't matter what happened or how much I was lied to or if he deserved my kindness. I know what I perceived to be happening, and I know how I reacted, and when the pieces were down I was stronger than steel, gave kindness without considering the cost, and I walked away unscathed.

How many people can say they've looked death in the eye and laughed? More than there should be, not too many that knowing what I'm capable of when put into pure chaos isn't somehow impressive. Because it is. And Zamorak's words proved themselves, or rather, I proved him entirely correct.

And when I last went back to RuneScape, and thought about it with enough time to put it all into hindsight, well. Aw, shit, he was right. Then vaguely around that time I went back and read Dawn, which was unfinished, tracked down the author and demanded to know how it fucking ended. (She told me and we're still friends like three years later. xD) Then I went back and found my old OCs, and decided fuck it, I'm making my own World Guardian.

So first thing I did was log in and jump over to the Makeover Mage and make myself into a boy. Kept the plateskirt though, I wanted to have the RS equivalent of a limp wrist to prove I'm Very Queer. Then I went about remaking my character. I wanted to make a self-insert, I was old enough to know it wasn't cringey, it was just fun, but I didn't want to use my default avatar with the black hair over one eye and the Chaorruption. I wanted to make a new self-insert based in nothing I was already using.

So I made the most beautiful man I could! Long, dark brown hair, pretty semi-dark skin, looked Kharidian, and then I said fuck it and made him Zamorak's youngest son. Originally, he was adopted when he was young by Iban and Clivet, and suffered serious imposter syndrome when being WG meant he'd never get demigod powers. But as I grew more confident in myself, he ended up getting powers? And then eventually I rewrote his backstory, and then wrote about his mother, and her relationship with Zamorak, and then he had friends like Blaire and Icthlarin (who was also my furry awakening, rip me).

Then with the most recently questline I've been getting a bit more into RS magical theory, and I've been mulling it over lots, and Seanan McGuire's Middlegame definitely helped; and I figured out how I wanted him to handle being World Guardian: it didn't make sense for him to be openly Zamorak's son, the other gods would just target his family to manipulate him. So I had him play neutral openly and Zamorakian to his friends, effectively living a double life.

Then he just looked up one day and said "Oh, by the way, my father won't acknowledge me to keep me safe but I don't know that so we have a very unsteady relationship because I don't know if he loves me", and then Children of Mah came out, and he was all "Oh and I think I just got disowned (I didn't, Zamorak was protecting me, but I don't know that) so my relationship with Zamorak is Fucking Shitty" and he was stuck that way until I figured out how to save their relationship.

It culminated in Sabe not knowing how his Mahjarrat powers worked and guessing, and hating himself for being half-and-half, and missing everything about being a Mahjarrat, and literally you couldn't have gotten more obvious in order to tell me I was having Fucking Issues coming to terms with the fact I didn't have any understanding or knowledge of my own heritage, but whatever, eventually I noticed that.

And as I've been working to understand myself and my heritage, so too has Sabe been doing that with his Mahjarrat heritage. But for the longest time, no matter how I put him and Zamorak in the same room in a scene to try and get them to talk it out, it wasn't working. Something wasn't right. Sabe resented being World Guardian, hated having to betray his family, didn't know if he was wanted, and hated himself for having to kill Mah, the mother of his species.

Not that long ago, a few months actually, he informed me (which is my shorthand for 'I suddenly figured out this happened, and it genuinely feels like remembering that one fucking word you have on the tip of your tongue, I always knew and just forgot for a while') that no, he'd been ripped in two by a hope devourer, brought to his father's stronghold, and Zamorak split his magic between mortal and divine in order to get around his godproofing and heal him. Zamorak's intense worry for his youngest son was what caused Sabe to break down and tell him honestly what was going on and how he was feeling, which caused Zamorak to do the same, and they finally, finally made up.

A week later, I noticed the connection between Sabe's Mahjarrat issues and my Irish issues, and started to wonder if he was a linktype.

I mean... he's a self-insert. He makes the choices I would, the me in the here and now, that I think are best. He's not a person I was and still know myself to be, he's not someone I grow into, he's not living his life beside me like a shadow. He's me, choosing the things I do, because I say so. But he's also me in the things he reflects, the things he struggles with, and things I had zero fucking conscious input on.

Sabe is the person I am when a crisis hits and I have to deal with the chaos. Sabe is the person I am when I need to lead. Sabe is the person I am when I am desperate to be known and loved by those I consider family. Sabe is the person I am when I want to be sure in where I came from, where I will return to, and the things that I will always be. Sabe is a man of darkness who knows the light as an acquaintance and nothing more, who is cruel and careless and kind.

Sabe is a warpriest of Zamorakian philosophy, because it took me twenty fucking years to put into words how I see the world, and now that I know, I will argue them to death and use them to help others. Drakath may have wanted a messiah to share the hivemind with others. Sabe is a warpriest, spreading the word and calling home the broken and the damned. He is the Last Rider, not the last of the Ilujanka but the one who keeps riding towards the chaos and never falls, no matter what.

Some of who Sabe is I have conscious input on. A whole lot of him was unintentional and perfectly reflects me.

So when it comes to terminology... I don't know what he is. A self-insert, yes. A linktype, maybe. A kintype, also maybe. Sabe doesn't feel like my past linktypes, because Sabe isn't always catharsis and comfort. Until he made up with his dad, Sabe was brutal and hurt a lot and constantly yearning for his foundation and slowly going mad. It wasn't fun. I just refused to do anything but see the story through. I was going to get it right. I wanted to see it to the end. I wanted to be the Last Rider, even though I didn't phrase it that way.

But to answer your actual question, of what he feels like when I'm not actively being him out of necessity, desire, and active thought. If it fades into the background.

And like... it can? Sabe as he is, recognized for what and who he is, is kind of a new thing. Sabe as a concept is very old, but Sabe as what he is right now is new, and confusing, and honestly I'm still trying to figure out what to make of it.

Like, seriously. Sabe is Zamorak's son. Am I Zamorak's son? Is he keeping an eye on me as I am? Would he be proud of me? Would he offer his approval of my progress? Does that make me, in some way, the World Guardian?

I have not a clue, buddy. Not a goddamn clue.

So what it means is that I've been paying attention, really. I don't just become strong in times of crisis. I've been trying to do better. Be better. Learn, and listen, and rethink myself. Break out of lockstep, of doing things the way I've always done them. Try to always do better than I did, build habits I like, stop waiting for things to change and just do it. Become the chaos, instead of waiting for it to hit me.

It means I need to live up to what Guthix told Sabe to do. It means being gentler, being kinder, not burning bridges when I'm not sure. It means keeping an eye out for any sign Zamorak's listening, in case I am his son, in case I really have to decide what I'm gonna do about being the son of chaos incarnate.

But other than the questioning, what it feels like is just... what I was already dealing with, just a little more at arm's length and easier to deal with. Once I recognize that his issues are reflective of mine, if I solve his, I have a pretty good idea of how to solve mine. Some of it won't work exactly right - Zamorak will always forgive him for not being the son he expected he might have had, my own parents may not, yay I'm queer and pagan - but it's a good rule of thumb.

It's also just comforting to know that when in doubt, nothing can kill me, because I simply refuse to die. I am World Guardian, I am a demigod of chaos incarnate, all the hellfire in the world can do nothing but strengthen me. And if I present those to myself as unshakeable beliefs, because for Sabe they are, then I'll be okay. It probably couldn't stop most disasters or tragedies, but I got hit by a car, broke five bones, and walked away with a record recovery time, so I mean... I can't prove that I can't die by some accident or tragedy, but you also can't prove that I can. (Trying to do so usually falls under what we call 'murder', and I personally believe I can't be murdered. Only assassinated.)

But really, I think the worst that could possibly happen with a new linktype is that you learn what not to do. It's new, it's scary, it's chaotic, and from where I'm standing, that's the best way to learn.

#asks #anonymous #on copinglinking #on voluntary identities #on questioning #my experiences #here have me yelling about runescape and complaining about questioning #You Asked For This #essays of the skyrose garden #actually yeah this is an essay

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soulvomit · 4 years ago

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This conversation in a major mainstream celeb culture group on FB, about the author of “Love, Simon,” is really making me despair that a majority of younger people may not really believe that authors should be allowed to be private citizens, because they weren’t alive at any point when those authors *were.* And I really feel like this is a case where the young people are going to get their way just by numbers, and older LGBTQ people and younger ones will just end up talking past each other. *Most* people in that thread (huge number, and in a group with huge membership) seemed to believe that anyone not willing to be “out” as an LGBTQ person, shouldn’t profit from anything pertaining to LGBTQ culture. And I have a problem with this! So... only very deeply privileged people from liberal families, who either can afford to not have a day job or who work for companies that aren’t going to fire them for being LGBTQ, get to write LGBTQ material?? Only people under 30, for that matter, get to write LGBTQ material? (Because I really feel like something most people don’t understand and most fucking zoomers don’t care about, is that older people in the same marginalized categories as them *may move predominantly in older circles* and may not experience as much broad acceptance as they take for granted. It being more accepted for a 20 year old to be gay, doesn’t make things automatically better for a gay 50 year old.) This is useful representation HOW?? How does it represent a lot of actual LGBTQ people if the only works they get to read are written by the LGBTQ equivalent of Lena Dunham?? And how are we going to vet people for belonging to the right group, having the right representative experience, before they are qualified to write LGBTQ material... is there some kind of Gay Police or something that’s going to check this out? At what point are you Gay Enough? This is actually a generational issue for me because of the degree to which LGBTQ writing, when I was younger, was underground, and the degree to which even mainstream authors were still private citizens. A huge majority of the material you formed your identity to, when I was younger, would’ve been authors who at the time were only well known within the very, VERY subcultural spaces of LGBTQ community. Even fanfic was an underground space. Many authors were pseudonymous, there were small imprint niche publishers, there was stuff that was only published in underground mags and zines. (Alison Bechdel is from *my time* but... if you’re outside of LGBTQ culture or you’re under 40, then you may not have even begun hear about her until the 2010s. There were lots of authors well known within LGBTQ spaces who weren’t well known outside of those spaces. And there were also lots of pseudonymous authors.). Basically there seems to be this attitude where you should only be able to write LGBTQ material if you are a Very Online, 20something “professional queer” who is willing to be totally transparent about your life on social media. Or to even write LGBTQ characters at all. Will we at some point stop even seeing works that have diverse ensembles? Do all books have to be written by committee now so that you have the proper representation, unless you’re willing/able to write a totally monoculture book? Who gets to be on those committees? Do you have to go to a specific university to qualify? Do you have to have the right degree and belong to the professional-managerial class or the academic elite to acceptably write material pertaining to any kind of marginalized identity? And are we seeing the end of individual authorship outside of the self-publishing market and/or the individual authors who were already grandfathered in? Don’t you see how this just feeds into EVERYTHING BEING CORPORATE FRANCHISES and just makes writing MORE privileged and elitist? Then there were generational assumptions wherein somebody who’s been in LGBTQ culture for a long time wouldn’t know about anyone who’s not the same letter of the LGBTQ. I know it’s generational because of having been in LGBTQ culture in the 90s. As if there is absolutely no history of adjacence between communities. As if there aren’t trans people who formerly identified as gay and were part of the male or female gay communities, as if there aren’t bi people who’ve been in the community and involved with gay people, as if all trans people or gay people or bi people came out in high school or college, and as if members of the LGBTQ don’t ever, ever socialize with each other or share the same spaces. (Which is some ahistorical bullshit.) And all of this has led me to believe, with this preciousness around narratives and there being ~The LGBTQ Experience~ vs ~the Cis Het Experience~, what do they think *straight* people live like? If you’re hetero, you necessarily live in the suburbs and have 2.5 kids, or something, and don’t EVER know LGBTQ people and have zero experience with that community whatsoever? How far are we going to take this, should we just go full horseshoe and say that LGBTQ people aren’t qualified to write cis het characters (and thus LGBTQ people excluded from most writing except for the heavily elitism-based token positions we’ll be allowed?) Plus, are you assuming that every person who presents the optics of being in a hetero relationship, is a heterosexual, and or is cis and or their partner is? These assumptions about how social worlds work, don’t actually describe even one social space I’m in, or have EVER been in. Maybe they describe your social world if you grew up in a totally homogenous, utterly heteronormative (and probably religious) social space and then came out into LGBTQ culture on an upscale college campus in a college town, then managed to socially bubble up with the other cool queer kids in either your upper middle class hipstertopia town, or some corner of fandom culture, or you bubble up so hard that you only interact with a handful of handpicked people online in your specific handpicked spaces that only, only ever match you, and match you 100%. But they don’t describe the experiences of even most LGBTQ people. Like... the discourse I grew up with, was, “you have the right to write this, but damn, maybe I’m not going to read it.” But now we’re in a space of... who has the right to write at all? And I’m sorry but that’s just fucking dystopian.

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remythologise · 4 years ago

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tom hardy improving ‘darling’ bc he’s insane vs. jensen ackles accidentally birthing destiel through his little crush on his costar: FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! (falling back into spn fic has consequently made me revisit some of my favorite fic for truly insane 2010s tumblr pairings. arthur/eames is obviously one of these. I must know if you ever read presque vu.)(also I once read a j2 fic where jared was a secret agent and jensen was his slutty handler and just. um. it was a choice.)

Hey anon come here I love you and I wanna kiss you and I thought about making a joke about Tom/Jensen here but I think it’s like two magnets with the same polarity they both have those Lips... and make those Jacting Joices. Wouldn’t work at all. I don’t believe in top/bottom discourse or The Dynamic or whatever reductionist bullshit but I DO believe in this new reductionist bullshit I’ve tapped into right here. Speaking of; cannot BELIEVE how much content Arthur/Eames got out of a few lines in that film like that is some HEAVY LIFTING by Mr. Hardy good for him. I’m pretty hit or miss on 2010s white men slash fandoms like I did read Arthur/Eames but only because everyone else was, I really don’t remember any that I loved or felt strong emotions about (and yeah I’ve read most of rageprufrock’s well known fics, she got in early with a lot of those fandoms!)... However the tumblr dash peer pressure* to vibe with Arthur/Eames was at least peer pressure with TASTE! I was also peer pressured into Teen Wolf** and Sherlock*** fandoms I feel. Although I resisted peer pressure on the Social Network and some others. On the other hand, WB Holmes, Merlin and 2009 Star Trek always have and always will absolutely fuck.

A Choice huh??? Tell me more. I’m not going to lie I would read RPF rn out of blatant curiosity but every time I’ve ever tried it, it made me a) uncomfortable and b) I don’t ship those people tbh and c) I just don’t feel RPF is generally well written EXCEPT the one**** RPF I remember reading/enjoying a decade ago, that Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto World War I AU LMAO I mean. Is it RPF if it’s such a blatant AU? Who knows.

* Peer pressure being a joke, obviously it’s just wanting to be in on the same fun everyone else is having. I’m sure everyone dragged in SPN feels this way but I genuinely believe it’s such a valid time that everyone is having genuine emotions about vs. like. pretending to as I feel with respect to... ** Prime example: tumblr psyop into liking Sherlock, objectively a bad show, and shipping Johnlock... when I say pretending to care about ships it’s like. I couldn’t bring myself to read fic for Johnlock I just shipped it through gifs, same with *** ACTUAL example of peer pressure since an... ex friend of mine irl bullied me into watching all of Teen Wolf when it was airing... emphasis on ex friend... **** Also the Leonard Nimoy/William Shatner name changed serial numbers filed off high school AU that was published but you read it and you’re like. I see

#nobody stopped me from putting these thoughts down in virtual ink and that was a mistake #just taking the opportunity to talk about my mixed feelings on 2010 tumblr fandoms and running with it #sorry anon #ask #anonymous #kira for ts #spn spoilers #supernatural spoilers #rpf for ts???????

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gavillain · 4 years ago

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3, 11, 12. for hades- 18, maleficent- 21 ♥

3. rant. just do it

So, okay, I’m so fucking sick of the current media trends with villains. It’s like we’re allergic to having any villain who’s worth a shit in most things. They’re either 1.) flat and boring or 2.) a tragic woobie who gets a redemption arc slapped on them and legions of annoying fans insisting they did nothing wrong. Where the fuck are the classic villains? The ones who are fabulous, fun, and evil and don’t give a shit about being good? Like even modern villains whom I love like Loki or Hook have been infected by frankly bullshit redemption arcs meant to appease the whole “I want to change the bad boy owo” crowd and I’m just like... I have no patience for it. I’m so OVER this bullshit being held up as good writing when it’s the same stock arc over and over applied to characters who are MUCH more interesting when they’re just allowed to be unrepentantly evil. Like let them be themselves. Stop obsessing over changing people to fit your moral standards. And that’s another thing: when did we start getting into this zone where everyone acts like you have to morally agree with everything in a work of fiction?? You can enjoy crazy murdering psychopaths and not support that in real life because it’s fiction. Like I remember back on YouTube in 2008/2009/2010 when people would make villains lists and argue about whose villain was best based on who did the most evil deeds, and it’s was something to be kinda proud of even though no one really supported that stuff in real life. What happened to that? Why did we get into this era where “Villains are just poor sad babies who need LOOOOOVE and redemption” became the only plot we knew how to do? Why can’t we just have villains who are FUN, likable, and STAY EVIL in our media anymore outside of a few select shows that are an exception that proves the rule???

11. what unusual talent do you have?

I guess you could call video editing, voice acting impressions, and whatnot unusual. Knowledge of Disney Villain trivia... and a lot of useless trivia in general also qualifies, I’m sure XD

12. what’s the most interesting schools gossip you’ve ever heard?

See I never really paid much attention to gossip, tbh. Most people didn’t share the juicy stuff with me, and I didn’t seek it out. I was so wrapped up in my own weird corner of the universe that I was oblivious to like EVERYTHING XD

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18. rant about your favorite musician

Hades: “Look, lemme tell ya, that Orpheus kid can sing. Not gonna deny that. I mean, hey wouldn’t have let him leave the Underworld if he couldn’t. But, oy, is the guy pretentious! And all that nyeh-nyeh-nyeh about how it wasn’t fair that Eurydice died was a load of bunk. Death is always fair. Not my problem the one girl you ever loved croaked in her prime. And, hey, I’m even such a stand up guy, I let him take her back home with the condition that he couldn’t turn around to see her. Easy peasy condition, and he BLEW IT! MAJORLY! Not my problem, not my fault, yet EVERYBODY says I’m the bad guy in that situation. Also, can we talk about the fact that afterwards he was all ‘I’ll never love a woman again!’ and then turns around and starts sleeping around with every man in Thrace who would spread his legs? If ya ask me, that guy was just lookin’ for an excuse to switch teams and he found it in the most melodramatic way possible. Which, hey, I respect that, I do, but really though. That’s a BIG headache to plunk on my shoulders.”

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21. what’s a conspiracy you believe in?

Maleficent: “I’ve heard whispers that King Stefan and King Hubert were lovers in their youth, doomed never to be able to truly be together because they were forced to marry women. I’ve even heard tale that during drunken stupors, they would sing “Skumps” and... know one another. It would certainly account for why those two old fools were so eager to unite their children in matrimony.”

#Hades #Maleficent #In character asks #And out of character asks too XD

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flameontheotherside · 4 years ago

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Bitterness

I need to work hard at being more greatful. I should be greatful to have this experience. When I wrote that letter for Erik's angels to find me, two years later, he died. I wasn't expecting his spirit to find me. At the time I wasn't sure on what to believe or if God was real. I didn't believe in twin flames and didn't want to at the time.

It was 2009 in the fall I felt it was over. The psychic was right and I had to move on. I had plenty of fake relationships until 2019 because I wanted to keep up with appearances. I didn't love anyone ever again. It was all surfacelevel shit.

It doesn't mean I was having fun.

That empty feeling stayed with me. Erik reached me in my dreams and paranormal things happened around me but for the post part, since I didn't know what to do about them, I ignored them. Doesn't mean I forgot them. I still remember them.

Isaac and Vince were terrible people. Isaac was abusive, he isolated me like a demonic entity, told me I couldn't trust anyone, fed me pills and got me addicted to them, yelled at me and ignored me. All Vince did was act like an entitled child. He wasn't as bad as long as he had his drugs. But I had nowhere to go. I lived through hell and tried to kill myself several times because of it.

I met with Isaac two years ago for closure.

He cried like a baby. It wasn't the crying that I believed he was sorry. I just knew and felt it. I accepted his help and he bought me 2k worth if new clothes now in my storage unit in Miami which I will get in June. He didn't care if I went back with him and I wanted to remain friends until he told me that he pulled his gun on himself infront of his now teenaged son because he wasn't treated him like the father he is. I'm happy he told me the truth but I stopped talking to him since.

Rick is kind of different. Actually very different. He's not an addict of any kind and never was. He's had it for me since 2010 and we have the same issues. He's basically an Erik clone in spite of literally asking God to spare me. It's not easy having Erik and Rick. I really didn't want an Erik clone! It just happened. I've not seen in in years so when I came out here I slowly started to see how similar they are.

But I have to make it work with Rick.

Because if I can do it with him, I can donit with Erik in another life. I hope so. I'd like to think that this is karma. Erik killed himself before we could find each other, he has to see me with someone like him and I have to prove that I can put my bitterness aside and make it work.

I'm angry. I'm so fucking angry with Erik and how fate got me this far. I didn't write that letter just to that I could suffer for 10 years. I wrote that letter on Erik's birthday in 2007 after class. I tried looking for Erik.. I was heartbroken over an ex (coincidentally in Texas) who just about used me, and my other long distance exs like James and Brendan, ended up being just friends. I wouldn't know Erik until spring 2017 but as a spirit when my abilities started to come back.

I was barely living.

I skated by doing the bare minimum because I saw no point. In fall 2009 I literally told a friend that I had given up and I started drinking and causing drama around my group of friends to compensate for the emptiness I felt and couldn't explain. I felt dead inside. It turned into bitterness over the next 8 years.

Seeing a therapist for my ptsd, depression, and anxiety is a good idea but I've been forced into seeing specialists since I started elementary school. Speech pathologists, behavioral therapists, and learning specialists. I don't like seeing more specialists as an adult. I never look forward to seeing doctors on a regular basis again. Some dr act like bullshit artists, some don't even listen to you, some make you feel worse, some just don't even care.

Anyway I'm going to take care of a few things and probably sleep this off.

😘💕 Stay safe out there!

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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Jake Reviews Stuff: Steven Universe: The Answer

Happy pride everyone and naturally, it just wouldn’t feel like a celebration of pride in animation without one of the frontrunners of LBGTQ represintation in Children’s television, as well as quality in storytelling in general: Steven Universe. Since your seeing this you probably know the gist but as my idol peter parker would say let’s do this one last time: The story of Steven, a 14 year old, though he dosen’t look it, boy with a boundless amount of love, compassion and empathy, lives in beach city with his borderline homeless dad , surrogate moms and surrogate until we find out they actually are kinda related sister: Garnet, a fusion of two gems in love and thus the sum total of both them and their feelings, Peal, an emotional but loving gem who grew from a servant to Rose’s right hand, sometimes lover, and confidant, and Amythest, a gem born long after the war that brought everyone else here who acts like a 20 something or teenager half the time. Steven soon finds himself fighting alongside themt o protect earth both from the monsters caused by the final battle of the war his mother fought to save earth from distruction and let her army live life how they choose, and the gem homeworld as it starts to take an intrest in earth again. And as the fight goes on Steven also starts to see just how flawed his family is and how much they haven’t moved on from his moms death and finds himself forced to help them past it while grappling with his mom’s terrible and complicated legacy, everyone expecitng him to basically be her, and what it means to be a being that’s truly one of a kind. I absolutley love the show: it’s not without flaws; Characters tend to be ingnored for seasons or episodes at a time,some arcs are really weirdly paced and the slice of life episodes can be jammed in the weirdest places. But the show’s strength: a devotion to having emotional resolution be even more important, and sometimes just as powerful animated and framed, than fighting, though the show’s fight scene’s are incredible, incredibly deep characters with fully fleshed out arcs and growth, and a love for tackling deep, heavy subjects through metaphor or even directly, taking on things such as gender identity, societal conformity, ptsd, grief, gender identity and many many more with grace and weight and helping kids with them in the process. The show is also the frontrunner for LBGTQ+ representation in cartoons in the 2010′s. While other shows had bits nad pieces, series creator Rebecca Sugar was the one responsible for making Marcline and Princess Bubblegum ex-lovers and making it obvious as possible without saying it because standards were bullshit, Steven Unvierse decided to say fuck subtley and thus had PLENTY OF gay content: Garnet is a fusion of two women and the embodiment of their love and relationship, and when the two show up their very affectionate with one another to the point of bullcrap censorship in less tolerant countries such as india and russia, while Pearl out and out had a CENTURIES LONG romantic relationship with Steven’s mother who was explictly pansexual, and that’s just the main cast! But I genuinely believe that it’s thanks to Steven Universe that children’s animation is as LBGTQ+ positive as it is now. SU wasn’t the first to have gay leads but it was one of the few kids shows with the balls and, at least in the us, network support to explictily have gay characters as some of the main cast, and I feel the show’s success softend execs at CN and other companies to let more representation too. Since SU”s airing, most CN shows have had gay content great and small, Nick has had gay parents and a bisexual lead, not to mention the korra ending kicking it all off, and Netflix has said hold my beer, having not only multiple gay main characters, but having the finale of she ra be built on a decleration of love between two women saving the universe and being the climax of the entire series. Not that those crews likely still didn’t have to FIGHT for most of that, i’m not bilind and NOelle Stevenson has outright admitted she had to be sneaky about catradora for season 1 as to not get it shut down, but I feel SU”s sucess and Rebecca and crew’s own likely fights put the various studio goon’s reflector shields down and got more representation into children’s media. And that’s a wonderful thing. So naturally the show was a lock for this month and for coverage here.. i’ts just given the show’s heavily seralized nature and the fact it dosen’t really have any long romantic story arcs. Sure ther’es plenty of romance, but it’s mostly either in the past or between an already married couple that’s also a person. The show’s arcs were more focused on worldbuilding and character building, which I do prefer and will be doing one in July. But it did make it tricky to find an episode to spotlight the character I wanted to spotlight: Garnet Garnet is easily my faviorite character, with pearl a very close second: she has a great dynamic, is a decent if flawed mother and leader, and is also damn funny with her deadpanned reactions to things being utterly divine. As well as whatever the hell this is.

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The problem is I also wanted to spotlight the parts making up her: Ruby and Sapphire, their relationship etc as they themselves are fantastic and i’m 100% convinced were the inspriation for one mr mc skat kat and one paula abdul’s magnum opus in steven’s unvierse

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The problem is most rupphire episodes are tangled in bigger arcs. They debuted at the end of the invasion arc, they had the baseball episdoe together shortly after another arc, and their wedding is tied up in the reveal rose was pink diamond and the reception is crashed by the climactic battle with Yellow and Blue that sets up the final arc of the whole series. But thankfully season two gave us The Answer to my problem.. ironically named the Answer, basically Garnet Year One as Garnet tells steven how she came to be, a story so beauitful they made a storybook out of it.. and it’s my honor to present it here after the cut.

We open at the Barn... as a refresher at this point the Gems and Steven have been staying at Greg’s old family farm in order to have the space and suplies to build a drill to stop the cluster from hatching and destroying earth, with Peridot reluctantly working with them. So as such Steven’s sleeping there when Garnet wakes her.. and in a notable departure for her it’s san’s shade, which shows her adorable excitment as she wakes Steven. Turns out it’s his birthday! And.. I don’t really begrudge the show for takin ga break for two episodes to celebrate it: besides being the only time steven went up a year, on screen, it was a nice break from the peridot/cluster storyline for a second, and this and the following episode are pretty great and both add a lot to the world as a whole. It’s why i don’t MIND when SU takes a break from the plot, as long as they do it for good reason.

IN a great callback steven asks if garent’s going to tell him she’s a fusion, as Jailbreak revealed the reason she hadn’t yet is she was saving it for his birthday, which is a good joke and a great callback. Garnet cheerfully tells him know but has clearly found a backup: While steven knows she’s a fusion now.. she never told him how she came to be and how ruby and sapphire met after all. So we journey back about 5000 years to, as we’d learn much later with the pink diamond reveal, the start of the gem war. Earth was to be the next great colony, as we’d learn next season for pink diamond, but something was in the way: The rebel rose quartz and her brutal right hand pearl were causing tons of distruption, so the rest of the diamonds had come to snuff out the rebellion personally. So that’s where Ruby and Sapphire came in. Sapphire is a higher class gem, and befiting her caste is a precog, with Sapphires brought in to tell the diamonds the future so they can either make sure it happens or change it’s course. Garnet neaturally has this ablility too but vastly improved to see multiple timelines. She’s proper and distant. Ruby meanwhile is a shy, if more intellgent then her peers grunt soldier. Rubies as we learned here are basically made in groups to fuse. To homeworld, Fusion is simply a tactic to create a slightly stronger gem out of three other gems, and basically creates one giant person. In Contrast up to this point the series has shown fusion as something important to the crystal gems and requriing more work: It requires all parties to be in sync to even happen much less stay together, and requires an emotional connection; Freindship, romance, kinship... whatever it is it’s needed to hold the fusion together. It’s part of what MAKES garnet so impressive: Garnet is a permafusion, only unfusing either when her two halves are needed. or when thier personal conflict is so great they CAN’T stay fused. It also means due to said emotional resonance and combining the best traits of two gems rather than creating just one big gem, that the crystal fusions we’ve seen are vastly more powerful and versitale.. evne if they dont’ speak much because Rebecca made the mistake of getting big artist to do the role and apparently refused to just you know.. recast? It’s something that always baffled me. There’s no shortage of talented poc performers who can sing out there. Anyways, that’s part of what makes this intresting: up till now, we’d only seen one form of fusion.. we hadn’t seen what homeworld thought of it and used it for, and to the show’s credit it was hinted back during the return arc when Jasper called fusion a “tactic for making weak gems stronger”, since as far as homeworld used it, that’s what it was and it’s a stark contrast to the crystal gems harder to maintain but much more intresting and unique fusions.

We’ll get more into this later. The two front rubies argue about whose going to punch people whie our ruby just points out the obvious: Their just going to fuse into a really big ruby and punch together. This gets her shoved into sapphire, which despite not being her fault gets gasps and monocle pops from the gems around them. And it’s about time I dug into the episodes unique animation style: instead of the usual, only a handful of characters, the rubies, sapphire, and later rose and pearl, are animated normally and even then, at least for the first half, are brightly lit in their primary colors, while the rest of the gems present are just barely animated sytlistic shadows. It’s a really intresting choice and a clever way to save on budget, while still looking gorgeous.

Sapphire, while refusing Ruby’s help getting up, is understanding if monotone, but as w’eve seen in the present, tha’ts mostly just a side effect from seeing where everything’s going, and likely the reason garnet’s own emotional process is much like that; Stoic but willing to emote when necessary. Sapphire however has a reason for brushing her ruby off: the reason she was called here.. Blue Diamond. This is intresting as it’s not only the first time we HEARD of blue, as before this we only heard of Yellow, who’d make her proper debut at the end of this season, but the first time we saw a diamond in any way shape of form. Sure we had murals and such, but given the lack of info about the diamonds this early on it was impossible to tell whow as who and the only giveway there was more than was diamond was the symbols: the era 1 symbols in temples and at the arena showing all 4, hinting at pink, and the modern one shown in jailbreak that was a triforce. We do only see Blue in a hood, covered by her palquin and her voice done by Garnet, but it’s still the first tiem we’d see any of the diamonds in any onscreen form. The Garnet voice is also notcable as every other voice in the flashabck, including characters who aren’t either part of garnet or the same gem type as part of her, is normal.. it’s only blue Garnet does a voice for.. and a clever way of covering for the fact they likely hadn’t cast her voice actress yet. It’s also notable for the introduction of Blue Pearl, who silently stands by her Diamond teh whole time.. it’s weird thinking back to the fact that this was the first time we’d really SEEN other versions of our main cast: other rubies and another pearl. Sure we knew they were all part of one type or another with the obvious exception of garnet.. but this episode is notable, and weird to think about giiven how many variants we see as the series goes on, for being the FIRST time we see this on screen.

Sapphire reveals that while she, and two of her rubies, will poof the rebllion will end here, and Blue is releaved to here this, thanks sapphire and dismisses her. As Garnet explains, Sapphire had no issue with this as she simply saw her life as one straight line: No choice no, option: Fate would just come as it may. Sapphire also muses to Our Ruby on the fact that she finds this planet a wonderful place for a colony.. and that she wishes she could’ve seen more of it. While Our Ruby says theirs more time, Sapphire, while appricating the sentiment gently shoots it down. This little moment is interuptted however as Rose shouts out, signaling her and Pearl’s arrival. The battle has begun. And I do like the clever use of storytelling here.. not in presetnation but in what we’d learn muchhhh later with the big reveal: To a first time watcher, we just thought that it was only rose and pearl for story purposes or it was a small attack. After all the rest of the characters we’d seen were just shadows, so I, and I presume many others just assumed the rest were off screen or failing that this was just a small strike. As we’d learn once we got the full story of Pink Diamond becoming rose.. it was indeed JUST them, and only them at the time. it’s probably why in the future sapphire saw the rebellion ended her: Pink while powerful had to reign it in as not to be found out and pearl, while as we see her is already utterly badass and an ace with a sword as she mows down Quartz soldiers, is still one gem going up against a literal army. Another noticable thing, that hints at when this takes place is the fact that when Rose takes down the fused rubies, poofing two of them and leaving ours to flump to the ground.. she uses her fists. At this point her iconic sword is well established and it’s assumed it was just left out for artistic purpose.. but since we meet who made it next season with Bismuth, it’s another clever hint this is before there was a proper army. Bismuth wasn’t a gem yet so Rose/Pink just had her natural strength and shield to protect her, which wasn’t nothing, but the sword probably made it far easier to hold back.

And thus we come to the moment of truth: Pearl has come back and is about to mow down sapphire.. when Ruby realizes just waht Sapphire meant and waht she’s about to do and thus.. the future changed. Ruby tackles her out of the way. And Garnet is born.

I absolutley love Garnet’s cotton candy design, both as a sensible evolution, as this is a garnet formed in a moment of passion and accidently versus the one we see in the present or even in flashbacks: a person formed by choice and love and thus having a more stable form. Naturally, Rose and Pearl are baffled by this.. and it’s even more understandable.. as the above mentioned pink diamond origin episode explained.. they had never SEEN this kind of fusion before. While i’m sure this isn’t the first time this happend in gem history, any others were likely killed as soon as it were over or went into hiding as we saw with the off colors. And Pink being sheltered and Pearl being created for her, probalby simply never thought of something like this existing. But they also realize this never before seen to them miracle is their cue to skidoo and book it out of there. Naturally Blue is pissed and the court are disgusted as the two defuse and both have about the same reacation.

Before Blue can murder Ruby for you know, doing her fucking job, Sapphire ttakes her by the hand and books it off the sky arena and the two plummet to earth while ruby screams no a lot. The foundation of any good relationship.

They float down to earth.. because she’s Mary Poppins Ya’ll. Ruby reveals why she’s upset: Because as she sees it, there’s dozens of her. She’s not WORTH this. Sapphire has no reaction because for the first time, she has no idea what the future brings, what it means and the future she saw was just shattered. She’s frozen.

Jokes aside I really love that pun. Ruby worries and quickly scoops her up bridal carry style and quickly finds the two a cave. In the cave the two light that flame get that and Ruby continues to freak out over what happened, upset with her self that she’s supposed to save sapphire.. with Sapphire gently reassuring her “you already did.” It’s also intresting as it shows even garnet, or at least half of her, had to go through what peridot did.. it went down a bit easier since exile happened right away, but Ruby still had to shake off the homeworld conceived notion that she was WRONG for saving sapphire simply because it lost them the fight and got them fused and all that. It’s also a nice metaphor for someone whose been told, for a nightmarish rainbow assortment of bullshit resaons, that being gay is wrong only to discover they are and having to realize there’s nothing wrong with who they are.

After a breif flash the two finally talk about their fusion, with Sapphire being suprised considering she figured fusion wasn’t anything like they experinced.. only for Ruby to chime in that sh’es RIGHT: Their fusion wasn’t anything like Ruby’s normal “me but bigger’ fusion.. they lost htemselves.. and both clearly enjoyed it, expressing it through having a third eye for ruby and more than one for sapphi

We then get the utterly adorable musical number: “Something Entirely New”Which takes the so far mildly subtle “This is like two people who had sex with the oppsite gender for the first time “ metaphor.. and just makes it texual as the song basically screams of two people talking over an unfamiliar sexual experince, but in a cute, well done, and intentionally awkward way that’s still approraite for the kids. it’s a real beautiful song and also shows the burgoning couple bond on earth. This is important as a previous episode had garent and out and out say that love takes time and work, accurate and that love at first sight simply dosen’t exist.. and we also see she practices waht she preaches as the montage does show some time past and even before that the two genuiely bonded. Sure they FUSED on the spur of the moment.. but actually loving each other took time and bonding.

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As the song ends, the two dance romantically,deciding to be Garnet for good as we get some nice callbacks to jailbreak: the two hum the tune to stronger than you, now revealed to be their song and spin similarilty to the way they have when they’ve fused, a nice callback that also add’s weight to those previous moments.. and thus two become one and Garnet is reborn.

Garnet narrates as her past self gets used to her strange new form.. and just as she does she falls down a ditch. Eh could’ve been worse.

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Garnet finds herself face to sword with Pearl. Pearl backs off a bit once she realizes who their dealing with, and Garnet panickedly offers to unfuse.. only for Rose to enter. Garnet narrates them as Rose Quartz and her terrifying renegade pearl.

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Truly a force to be reckoned with. Rose dosen’t care about her own feelings though “What you feel is bound to be more intresting” It’s a good moment both because Garnet , up to this point hasn’t had to think about what they are or how they feel.. but more notably... no one but the two gems makingthem up ever cared, not before they were garnet and after all the homeworld gems wanted was to kill her. We also get a great line from garnet: “Why am I sure that i’d rather be this than anything else and that i’d rather do this than anything else i’m supposed to do? “ Rose’s response.. to give a giant grin while saying welcome to earth. As Garnet continues to question things, Rose tells her to never question this, never question what you are... which is a damn good message for a kids show to give out. The metaphor is crystal clear: no matter where you are on that beautiful lbgtq+ rainbow: NEVER be ashamed of who you are, never question it.. just enjoy it. Be who your meant to be and love that person. It’s a damn good message and one badly needed in a medium that for way too fucking long was SCARED to tell messages like this: Of sponsors, of foreign markets, and of idiots like one million moms. it took people like rebecca and her crew to say “fuck that”, to say that queer kids NEED these kinds of stories to know they aren’t alone, they are beautiful how they are. They shoudln’t have to wait to find out what they are.. is okay. And that’s beautiful.

As Rose Tells Garnet that she is the answer, and as we cut back to the present, Steven asks what the answer is. Garnet simply answers: Love. And we close on one great exchange Steven: I knew it Garnet; (wistfully) So did I.

Final Thoughts: While I remembered the episode being good, hence part of the reason I choose it I forgot just HOW great this episode was, especially post reveal. The art direction is goregous, shot like a fairy tail and rightfully so since this episode is told as one, the story is heartwarming and erica and charlene really act their hearts out as ruby and sapphire while Estelle kills it as both present garnet narrating and past garnet, a garnet ENTIRELY diffrent from what we’ve seen but acted beautifully. It’s espcially noticable since unlike the other two lead gems, we obviously wouldn’t see more garnets like we would amythests and pearls, so unlike her contepraries estelle really didn’t get to flex her vocal range as much playing alternate versions as the seasons went on, with this being the closest she got. The episode is beautiful, has a wonderful message, and is just utterly charming and is agian why I DON’T mind that every su episode dosen’t advance the plot: Sometimes it dosen’t need to. And even so this one ended up being WAY more important than I remembered, introducing blue diamond and turning out to be MASSIVELY important once the reveal kicked it: For it was Garnet, and the love dthat forged her that changed Pink’s direction. Before the rebellion was simply a way to stop the occupation of earth and would’ve been snuffed out if not for ruby’s actions.. but seeing garnet, seeing how earth and being free from homeworld’s restraints could positvely impact someone.. it changed rose. Besides bringing her and Pearl together, it also made her realize just what her rebellion could bring to people and what a gem could be and even more how precious her future home was. By forming in an act of Love, garnet changed the entire future of gemkind. By staying that way she did so once more. And that’s beautifully. overall an underated, even by me, little masterwork with once again a damn fine message. We’ll get back to SU soon enough, as I plan to cover the series first full arc as we meet peridot, and see into the souls of our heroines. But first Pride isn’t over yet, and I have one last card on the table as we todd it up a bit with my first look at bojack horseman. Like this if you enjoyed it, comments subscirbe etc etc and don’t be afraid to comission a review for 3 bucks, and until we meet agian, later days.

#steven universe #garnet #ruby #sapphire #rupphire #pearl #rose quartz #pink diamond #blue diamond #the answer #fusion #review #lbtqia #lbtq+#lbtqa #pride month #pride #reviews

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imagesofthegreatgull · 4 years ago

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Hybrid Rainbow

Joy has always been a rare and precious commodity. I would argue, though, that in the developed world (Wherever, exactly, that is), it has become somewhat less rare in recent times, as standards of living and education continue to go up. That’s an absurdly privileged thing to say, I realize, but I’m trying to start this thing as evenhandedly as I can. I understand about suffering and poverty; I’m reading A Tree Grows In Brooklyn right now, even! Okay, saying we’re closer now than ever to utopia is going to smack of ignorance no matter how you phrase it, but it also strikes me as undeniably true, in the grand scheme of things. I think most people--aside from the fascists--would refuse a one-way trip in a time machine to any previous era, or at the very least, would recognize that it wouldn’t improve much of anything for them. As unruly as our age is, it’s still probably the best one we’ve gotten thus far, and as the boot-heel of oppression starts to ever so slowly ease up its pressure on the necks of the long-suffering masses, the question has begun to enter into the collective consciousness: what is to be done with joy when it begins to fall, unbidden, into your life with something like abundance? What is to be done if moments of joy no longer must be pried with great effort and sacrifice from the rockface of life, but lie strewn liberally throughout our days, needing only the will and lack of embarrassment to seize them?

Thus far, the latter-day generations have faced up to this problem with decidedly mixed success. The idea that expecting anything other than the very worst leaves one vulnerable to the universe’s cruel whims has been stamped upon the human brain for centuries, and has left many sadly unable to recognize their own privilege (Which, by the way, is a big part of why a whole lotta white folks refuse to admit they have it better than anyone else and continue to dig their heels in against progress because to them it looks like cutting in line). It is still widely accepted that constantly finding joy and peace and purpose in one’s own life is the purview of children and children alone, that it is a naivete to be grown out of. We have the impulse always within us to be hard, to be warlike, to show the world that we’re not weak and frivolous but monsters to be feared, without emotions to be appealed to or ideals to be fallen short of.

Remedying this problem has turned out to be one of the primary functions of counterculture. If it is often unhelpful to simply look at the entire value system of one’s parents and say “Fuck that”, as it tends to foster a rather negative self-definition, still, if part of that value system is a deeply entrenched distrust of happiness, “Fuck that” may be exactly the response called for. The beauty of “Fuck that” is that it leaps past the slow loss of faith in something and arrives immediately at a flat rejection of it, and since much of the history of civilization has been bound up with blind faith in arbitrary and harmful things, the ability and the courage to flatly reject something, to give it no credit for however widely accepted it is but to dismiss it as bullshit from the ground up, is a step forward in human consciousness tantamount to the reinvention of the wheel.

The great irony of the end of the sixties is that all the hippies were miserable for no reason: they won. Rock n’ roll did change the world, it just didn’t immediately transform it on every level into an unrecognizable nirvana. For all the apparent emptiness of its utopian dreams, the basic thrust of the thing worked out just fine: that particular cat will never be put back into its bag, and those ideas are now out in the ether forever, always waiting for someone to find them and be inspired to change their own life and the lives of those around them for the better. The same goes for the punk rock revolution a few years later: they may not have brought the bastards down, but they did successfully bring personal liberation to a lot of people, and poured exactly as much gas on the fires of populism as they intended to. Culture, and in particular art and in particular music, cannot, unassisted, change the world, but it can change your world, and has been changing small worlds all over the frigging place at least since those mop-topped Brits set foot on American shores and probably since Johnny B. Goode learned to play guitar just like a-ringin’ a bell.

The thread can get lost, however. Culture is always a reflection of the people, and the people still spend a lot of their time bored, frustrated, and terrified of letting on that they have feelings about stuff. Young people especially, formerly the eternal pirate crew waving high the flags of “Liberty” and “Up Yours”, in recent times have often capitulated and resigned themselves to no more than a few stray moments of fun pilfered from the fortresses of the almighty Money Man-Kings, usually in the form of drugs, sex, and reckless self-endangerment. The cost of the hippies and the punks giving up their battles is that the counterculture lost its intellectual leadership, at least until the resurgence in political literacy in the 2010s. In the wasteland following the 70s, there were no John Lennons or Joe Strummers to look to for guidance; even the people who were elected to speak for their generation seemed adamant that there was fuck-all they could really say. Yeah, it’s nice to know that someone else feels stupid and contagious, but that’s not really a direction, is it? The generation-defining message Kurt Cobain and his peers sent out was “We’re all way too fucked up to do anything about anything”, and that introspective moodiness pervaded American underground rock music from the invention of hardcore at least all the way up to the moment Craig Finn watched The Last Waltz with Tad Kubler and said “Why aren’t there bands like this anymore?” and set out with rest of the Steadies in tow to remind everyone that music can save your immortal soul and that hey, that Springsteen guy was really onto something, headband and all, and together they all successfully ushered in the New Uncool and now we’ve got Patrick Stickles wailing that “If the weather’s as bad as the weatherman says, we’re in for a real mean storm!” and Brian Fallon admitting “I always kinda sorta wished I looked like Elvis” and everything’s great, except it’s not, everything’s fucked, but rock n’ roll is here to stay, come inside now it’s okay, and I’ll shake you, ooo-ooo-ooo.

The point of all this is my belief that even with the responsibility rock music has to provide cathartic outlets for dissatisfaction, is has an equal or greater responsibility to provide heroes. I think it’s time we all got over pretending that we’re better than the need for heroes, because we all insist on having them anyway, imperfect roses by any other name, and we’d do a hell of a lot better selecting them if we just admitted what we were after. We don’t just want particularly talented comrades, we want King Arthur, Robin Hood, Superman, Malcolm Reynolds. Damn it all, they don’t need to be perfect, they don’t even need to be all that great really, and yeah, Arthur dies, and Robin never gets Prince John, and Superman can’t save everyone, and the war’s over, we’re all just folk now, and John Lennon beat women and Van Morrison is a grumpy old fart and John Lydon’s a disgrace, but it’s the faith that counts. The faith that there’s something greater than ourselves that some people are more keyed into than others, and that whatever they can relay from that other side is what’ll see us through. All the best prophets are madmen, and madmen aren’t always romantic fools; sometimes they hurt people, or fail at crucial moments due to a compulsion they can’t control. Let he who is without sin etcetera, right? Why not cast aside realism and sincerely believe in something or someone, huh?

I believe in the Pillows. I don’t know hardly anything about them; my expertise of Japanese culture and history extends to the anime I’ve seen and that “History of Japan” YouTube video that made the rounds a while back. I can’t locate them within the Japanese music scene; all their western influences seem obvious to me, and the rest I know nothing about. They’re the only rock band from their country I’ve listened to any great amount of, I don’t speak the language they mostly sing in, I don’t even know their career very well. The particulars of any experiences they might have had that motivated them to make the art they make are not ones I could possibly share in, so, saying that I “Relate” to their work sounds a little preposterous. They ought to be a novelty to me, a band that clearly likes a lot of the same bands I do despite hailing from a foreign shore, marrying that shared music taste with a cultural identity I have nothing to do with, a small, nice upswing of globalism pleasing to my sense of universalism but not having any kind of quantifiable impact on me.

Yet I, like a good many other westerners, believe in the Pillows. I’m a little buster, and my eyes just watered as I wrote that. In fact, it’s likely because of the barriers of language and culture that exist between us that my belief in the Pillows is so strong. Pete Townshend, someone else I believe in, once opened a show by saying “You are very far away...but we will fucking reach you”, and though the Pillows are both geographically (At the moment) and culturally miles away from me, Lord strike me down if they don’t fucking reach me. They reach me in a way many of their American college rock peers, many of their biggest influences in fact, never have. Dinosaur Jr, Bob Mould, Sonic Youth, the Pixies, Nirvana--all these artists speak directly to the American adolescent experience, but though they have all moved me to one degree or another, none of them have produced a body of work I can so readily see myself in as that of the Pillows. Maybe it is the novelty of it, maybe I’m fooling myself and it is just my sense of universalism carrying me away, but there’s something I hear in the Pillows that I don’t hear in those bands, and though the obvious candidate for that thing would be the foreign tongue the majority of the lyrics are written in, when it comes down to it, I think that thing is joy.

Joy, to me, is the possibility glimpsed by rock n’ roll. Not hedonistic pleasure, not a sadistic glee over the outrage of authority figures, but real, true, open-hearted, “Freude, schöner Götterfunken/Tochter aus Elysium”--type joy. Buddy Holly had joy. The Beatles, The Who, the pre-fall Rod Stewart, they had joy. Springsteen’s got joy to spare. Those people have such profound love for their art and their audience that just the continual recognition of the fact that they have a guitar in their hands and they’re being allowed to play it is enough to make them ecstatic, and whenever they want to actually express something serious they have to get themselves under control to do it. Yet, whether it’s the unfashionability of those utopian dreams, or the simple fact that rock music has become accepted by mainstream culture and is now a commonplace, unremarkable thing, but half the people who have picked up an electric guitar for the past few decades don’t seem all that excited about it. From Kim Gordon snarling about how people go down to the store to buy some more and more and more and more, to Thom Yorke moaning about how he’s let down and hanging around, crushed like a bug in the ground, even up to Courtney Barnett asking how’s that for first impressions, this place seems depressing, it’s not really a given anymore, if it ever was, that people who make rock music are very joyful in what they do.

Of course, I’m not demanding that our artists be empty-headed fluff-factories; far from it. The Pillows write sad songs and angry songs same as everybody else. But the important thing is this: every song the Pillows play is played with an exuberance and abandon that is immediately striking, regardless of the emotional content of each song. Channelling that kind of revelry into rock music is both to my mind the initial purpose of the genre in the first place and something which has become so rare as to be remarkable. A veneer of detached cool, a howling ferocity, a whimpering woundedness--these have become the hallmarks of American rock music, and they are nowhere to be found in the Pillows.

At the same time, the Pillows are the very antithesis of artlessness. Joy of the caliber they deal in is more commonly found in folky rave-ups, a lack of musicianship giving way to trancelike festivity. But the Pillows are skilled song craftsmen like few others; their sound has evolved throughout the years, but they tend to settle in the neighborhood of power-pop, abounding in glorious hooks and surprising structures. A hundred unnecessary, perfect touches seem to exist in every song; a pause, a solo, a bassline, all deftly elevating the song into a perfect expression of something sublime, something that always--always--takes ahold of the musicians themselves and imbues their performances with power and purpose the likes of which most little busters can only dream of feeling. It should be testament enough to their brilliance that upon first listen to a song I never know what most of the lyrics mean, but whenever I look up a translation, they always turn out to be exactly what I felt they must be; their songs are so musically communicative that they all but lack the need for lyrics.

This dual nature is why I believe in the Pillows: by so utterly failing to neglect both the highest possibilities of musical composition as an unparalleled tool for capturing emotional nuance and the unrestrained id-like rush that is the province of rock n’ roll, they successfully attain the lofty realm that is--or ought to be--the goal of music in the first place. Never once is there a hint of straying into the realm of primitivism nor into overthought seriousness, and instead they locate themselves somehow exactly center on the scale between punk and prog, lacking the weaknesses and gaining the strengths of both. They make rock whole again by finally disproving the tenet initially laid out by their heroes, your heroes, and mine, The Beatles: the notion that growing up means having less fun. The viscerally exciting early work of The Beatles lacks any of the depth and vision displayed by their later records, but those records are so carefully and expertly crafted that they tend to lose spontaneity, and constantly second-guess themselves where the juvenilia they followed forged unselfconsciously ahead. That legendary career path has laid out a false dichotomy that every proceeding generation of kids with guitars has chosen between, save for the few who could see past it, the ones who heard the wildness in “Revolution” and the wisdom in “Twist and Shout” and realized that they were of a piece, were one and the same, not to be chosen between but embraced fully. Pete Townshend. Bruce Springsteen. Joe Strummer. David Byrne. Paul Westerberg. The Pillows. The real heroes are not those who champion one side or another but fight all their lives for peace between them, knowing that we have not yet begun to imagine what could be accomplished if that were made possible.

Just as they bypass the divide between what Patrick Stickles termed the Apollonian and Dionysian tendencies of rock (I prefer to think of the usual battle as being between the Dionysians and the Athenians, with the true devotees of Apollo being most of those heroes I keep referring to, except Dylan, who might be a Hermesian), so too do the Pillows bypass the Pacific frigging ocean. And the Atlantic, to boot. Their music quotes the Pixies and The Beatles directly, and obviously owes much to Nirvana and all their college rock predecessors who spent the entire 80s desperately stacking themselves until the doomed power trio could finally vault over the wall. Their first record is practically a tribute to XTC. They do speak a lot of English, too. I’m informed that much of western culture is seen as the epitome of coolness in Japan, which might explain their obsession with Baseball, and apparently sprinkling a bit of the Saxon tongue into the mix is far from uncommon in the music scene(s). Regardless, there is something ineffably touching to a distant fan in a foreign land about hearing Sawao Yamanaka spit “No surrender!” or exclaim “Just runner’s high!” It looks from here like a show of mutual effort to understand me as much as I’m trying to understand them. They’re generous enough to have already walked to the middle where they’re asking me to meet them, a middle where it doesn’t matter that I don’t have a suffix attached to my name or that they don’t wear shoes in houses. The invisible continent that all forward-thinking and sensitive people come to long for is where the Pillows are broadcasting from, because they’ve realized that its golden shores and spiraling cities are attainable. They’re attainable with joy, with the fundamentally rebellious act of refusing to let the fascists bring down even your globdamn day, because who the hell gave them that power other than us? I know enough about Japan and America to know that either one accusing the other of being imperialist and socially conservative to a fault is a fucking joke, and to know that we’ve done a lot more wrong to them than they’ll ever do to us and the presence of the Pillows amounts to a “We forgive you”, not an “I’m sorry”. Having watched a decent amount of anime, which is basically the result of Japan’s mind being blown by western media and then proceeding to show their love by often almost inadvertently surpassing their inspirations, I know that the only way to save our respective national souls and everybody else’s too is to put our knuckles down, have Jesus and Buddha shake hands like Kerouac tried to explain that they would anyway, and embrace each other’s dreams and passions and adopt them into our own.

It takes better people to inhabit that better world, and in case that sounds like fascist talk, I mean we’ve got to do better, not be better. It’s no physical imperfection that holds us back, nor a mental imperfection exactly, as we all have our own neuroses and if we expunge those then we’ll be kissing art and lot of other vital stuff goodbye. No, it’s our discomfort with ourselves, our world, our neighbors, our aliens, that keep us from seeing that crazy sunshine. If we can’t even acknowledge the greatness around us, that surplus of joy I mentioned a while back that we just seem to have no idea what to do with, then we have no hope of ever achieving further greatness, of ever quelling man’s inhumanity to man down to an inevitable fringe rather than the basic order of the world.

There was always more to do

Than just eat and work and screw

But now that there’s time at last to do those things, we’re still afraid to, afraid that we’ll come up empty, that the search for fulfillment leads only to disappointment, better to hang back and play it safe, better not to risk becoming one of those people I shake my head at and pity and will secretly envy until I die. It’s a new world, and we must learn to be new people. I believe in the Pillows because I believe they make excellent models for that new kind of person. The way they behave in the studio and on the stage is the way people behave when they’re truly free, and we’ve all been set free already or will be soon, so if we’re going to try and learn what the fuck is next from anyone, I think we might as well learn from the Pillows. At least, that’s one of the places we could get that insight. There’s a lot of art and a lot of philosophy and political theory to sift through to in order to put together a workable 21st century identity, and the Pillows are hardly the only people to have begun making the leap. But because of a silly thing like the size of the earth, the infinitesimal size of the earth even compared to the distance between us and the next rock we’re gonna try and get to, not everybody is getting their particular brand of free thought and action, and I happen to think that’s regrettable, and it’s my will as a free individual to rectify it as much as I can.

Writing about music really is worthless, isn’t it? I haven’t said jackshit about what the Pillows actually do other than to vaguely qualify their genre and temperament, and the only more useless thing I could do than not describing their songs would be to describe their songs. If you don’t hear the bracing weightlessness in “Blues Drive Monster”, or the aching nostalgia in “Patricia”, or the soul-bearing cry in “Hybrid Rainbow” then nothing I could write about those would be more effective than “Little Busters is a really good album.” The better primer might be Happy Bivouac, from a few years later; it has the melancholic rush of “Last Dinosaur”, the ascended teenybopper “Whoa, whoa, yeah” chorus in “Backseat Dog”, and the intro that should make it obvious immediately that you’re listening to one of the best songs ever recorded which opens “Funny Bunny”. Those two, Runners High, and Please, Mr. Lostman are the classic era, selections from the former three immortalized in their biggest claim to western fame, the FLCL soundtrack, a brilliant use of their music that could warrant an equally long piece. Before and after those four are periods of experimentation and discovery equally worth your time, not all of which I’m familiar with yet. See, now I’m just an incomplete Wikipedia article; it’d be equally worthless to expound upon the individual bandmates, on the pure yawp of Yamanaka’s vocals, on the passionate drumming of Yoshiaki Manabe and the supernaturally faultless lead guitar of Shinichiro Sato, or the contribution of founding bassist Kenji Ueda, which was so valued by the others that when he left he was never officially replaced (They’re so sweet). I’m not here to write an advertisement or a press-release, I don’t really even know why I’m here writing this, but I know that I believe in the Pillows, that they’re important, and that people should write about them. I’m being the change I want to see in the world, get it? That’s all we can be asked to do.

It occurs to me that people believed in Harvey Dent too, and that didn’t turn out so well. Hell, let’s leave the comic book pages behind, people believe in Donald Trump, they think he’s a hero, and that’s all going down in flames as I write this. Having heroes can be dangerous, but I still believe it’s not as dangerous as not having heroes. “Lesser of two evils” sounds an awful lot like one of those false dichotomies between fun and intelligence or between misery and foolishness I mentioned earlier, so, let’s call it a qualified good. I’m not much of a responsible world-citizen if my only effort towards bringing the planet together is spinning some sweet Japanese alt-rock tunes and bragging about how open-minded I am, but if I do ever end up doing anyone any good, then I’d consider it paying forward the good done to me by the Pillows, among others. They helped me form my identity as an artist (Read: functional human being) and they made my adolescence a lot easier. Actually, that’s a lie: my adolescence was (And continues to be) pretty easy already, and the Pillows reassured me that I wasn’t avoiding reality by feeling that. While American bands sang about the downsides of being a mallrat or a non-mallrat, the Pillows offered a vision of teenagedome much like my own, one that was grandly romantic, in which suffering wasn’t a cosmic stupidity but a trial with pathos and merit, and joy was not an occasional indulgence but a constant presence, whether it was lived in or lost and needing recovery.

That’s the old idea of youth, the youth of John Keats, the youth that makes the old miss it, makes it required that we explain to them that it’s still there, it never left, it’s a dream, a momentary affirmation, an attitude, a muttered curse word. So many of my peers, now no longer engaged in a constant race to stay out of the grave as their ancestors were, seemed intent on beating each other into their tombs, as if reaching walking death before their parents was the only way to outgrow them. There’s so much life just lying around and it’s just plain wasteful to let it lie in the sun and rust in the rain. There’s space enough to stretch, to not keep who you are awkwardly curled up inside yourself, to breathe the air and taste the wine and dig the brains of your fellow travelers in this loosely-defined circus. I found that space in the Pillows, having often suspected it was there, and while everyone is going to find that space in their own way--or not, still, tragically not--I have to think that experience was due in part to some innate and unique quality of the music itself, not just a complimentary sensibility contained within myself. The Pillows are free, and that makes them freeing, it’s easy as that. Their liberation is plain as day; it rings in every chord, every snare-hit, every harmony; it’s up to us ascertain what we can do in our own limited capacity to hoist ourselves up to their level and give some other folks a boost along the way and a hand to grab afterwards. It’s the gift that art gives us, and the Pillows just give it more freely than most is all, which is why I think the suggestion to listen to them is more than just a solid recommendation. Like the insistence on listening to The Beatles, or The Clash, or any of the others, it’s a plea to save your soul, to learn the language of tomorrow and drink the lifeblood of peace and love and piss and vinegar, or else you’ll be lost, lost, lost.

Can you feel? Can you feel that hybrid rainbow?

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