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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

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RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Divide”

Hello, everyone, and welcome back! It feels good to be doing some normal RWBY-ing in this strange world of ours. First, some supplementary materials.

Number One: In response to any (valid) questions along the lines of, “Hey Clyde, it’s now been a full year since Volume 7 was airing and you still haven’t answered my ask about it. Or the ones about Volume 6… what’s up with that?” I’ve created what I hope is an informative video detailing the problem:

vimeo

(I assure you, the Earth, Wind & Fire was a happy accident during the screen recording.)

Needless to say, there’s a lot and I’ve known for some time now that I will LITERALLY never get through all my asks. Which doesn’t mean I don’t want you to send future thoughts in! Just know that as we head into Volume 8 territory I’ll most likely prioritize those, as well as any Volume 7 asks that aren’t woefully out of date. But I do want everyone to know that I read all the asks I receive, appreciate them immensely, and think too much about hypothetical answers, even if I don’t have time to actually write them out 💜

Number Two: There’s a bingo board this year!

Jury’s out on whether I’ll remember to update it, but at the very least this serves as a decent glimpse into my — and others’ — expectations going into this volume.

Number Three: I’ve collected a list of things I’ve heard about Volume 8 from what seem to be reputable sources. I did this because RT is developing a tendency to talk up certain points and then fail to deliver, either because something was taken out of a volume/moved to another, or because RT apparently has radically different ideas about what including something means. So this might be handy to keep on file and ask ourselves two months from now, “Did RT actually deliver on what they promised?”

Emphasis on Ruby’s leadership and how Summer’s death has impacted her

Insight into Ren and Nora’s flaws

May Merigold will supposedly have a larger part

More information about The Long Memory (Ozpin’s cane)

Theme of the volume is that you can respect someone but that doesn’t necessarily mean you agree with them

Very short timeline (supposedly just two days)

Yang in particular is very suspicious and distrustful

I was also going to include a list of all the threads that need to be continued/wrapped up, but honestly that would have taken too large a chunk off my life. Let’s just throw out the highlights:

Are we really going to have Qrow gunning for Ironwood?

Clover is dead regardless. Press ‘F’ to pay respects

Oscar bb you got shot please acknowledge this

Ozpin bb you got done dirty please acknowledge this

Penny is a Maiden now. I feel like the fandom has been sleeping on this (myself included)

Queer baiting, queer baiting… you’re on thin ice at this point, RWBY. Just skate on over to the queer snack bar before you fall straight into the lake.

Ren spill your deep dark secret already and it had better be something more than just ‘Oh no Nora might someday die :( ’

Salem is here so how the actual fuck is the cast surviving this?

Will Ironwood likewise survive his descent into antagonism? Yes or please yes no?

I think that’s all the biggies. I strive to keep lists like this in mind while analyzing, but honestly RWBY has a hundred moving parts that are abandoned or changed or simply retconned at the drop of a hat. So an attempt will be made.

Number Four (last one I promise!): Normal disclaimers and reminders for Recaps apply:

Please don’t fill up the already full inbox with flames. It’s still 2020. No one has time for that nonsense.

There will absolutely be typos and wonky parts because I try to get these out the same day an episode premieres. I have now been working on this for ten hours, nearly straight, and have no more energy for edits. Apologies in advance and RIP to my Saturdays.

I reserve the right to use stupid GIFs and memes at my discretion.

I strive to keep my focus on recapping/analyzing but salt tends to worm its way in… If you’re a die-hard RWBY fan with little patience for criticism, let alone (at times) snarky criticism, please proceed with caution.

No wait I lied, this is the last thing:

Okay, got that out of my system LET’S DO THIS!

We start not with the episode itself but rather Rooster Teeth’s (RT’s) strange non-promotion of it. If you follow my blog you may have caught the post where I pointed out that there was nothing on RT’s website to suggest that one of their most popular shows—if not the most popular show—was premiering today. Nothing on the main page. Nothing on the RWBY page either, not unless you count the Volume 8 poster background (easily mistaken for the Volume 7 poster) and the trailer buried all the way down past Episodes, past Merch, in the Bonus Features section along with videos like Live From Remnant and the volume intros. RT… the promotion of your feature show is not a bonus. This should be front and center! Honest to god, five minutes before the episode dropped I was checking the website for a Volume 8 section, a countdown, anything that would tell me the episode was imminent without relying on fans on tumblr to keep me in the loop. We got nada, zilch. I’m not sure whether that speaks more to RT’s iffy management of the series or simply the website’s horrible design—RIP losing RWBY on Youtube—but I was surprised when I saw the episode a few minutes after 11:00am. At that point I honestly expected to hear about a dely.

So that’s the mood I entered the premiere in, but truly? We start off strong. Things take a pretty severe nosedive later on, we’ll get to that, but I was impressed with our beginning and that probably has a lot to do with the fact that we start with our villains.

We open on a Cinderella character, Cinder, and thus I’m immediately pleased that we’re getting something about her backstory after all this time. Seven years! She appeared in episode one, folks! To say we’re overdue is an understatement. There isn’t a whole lot to go on, just a younger Cinder sadly scrubbing the floor, poised under a spotlight. What we learn, or potentially learn, is based far more in cultural knowledge than this scene. We know Cinderella’s story, which includes the abusive family, the longing for more, the eventual escape, and thus we’re able to read all of that in this image, despite the image itself not telling us any of this overtly. That means we could be wrong in our interpretation, but if we’re not it’s an easy shorthand in an already packed story.

What I’m really impressed with is the sound bridge between the scrubbing and her nails on the back of Neo’s chair. Fantastic way to confirm that this is Cinder as well as showcasing just how far she’s come. The sound of her labor has been replaced with the sound of her power and given that Cinder’s power is stolen, tied to a grimm arm, the property of a genocidal maniac… that’s messed up. It’s a Cinderella story gone wrong.

So yeah, Cinder tells Neo to head straight into the creepy, grimm infested blood cloud to see Salem and Neo is like, ‘Uh… no thank you?’ lol.

RT does a good job this episode with her expressions, ensuring we know exactly what she’s thinking despite an unwillingness/inability to speak.

Poor Neo might be in too deep, but I quite like the overall atmosphere of this opening. Say what we will about Salem’s awful characterization, at least she has style. This woman knows how to make an entrance and, piggybacking off of the Apathy, RT knows how to infuse horror elements into their fantasy. The red and purple coloring of the clouds, spiked whale teeth peeking through, bright orange in the background looking like explosions… that’s all 👌 Including the intro card.

The only thing I want to gripe about is this:

I’m sorry, why does the whale grimm have landing pads? Or something like it?? The whale otherwise works because it’s poised between the natural and the fantasy synthetic. It looks like a real grimm whale on the outside, but is sporting a throne room, a control panel, and other unnatural elements on the inside. It’s a visual indicator of Salem’s ability to control and change grimm. Now though, the additions are wrong, infringing on the line between organic and tech, the line between what helps the grimm individually (giving monkeys wings) and what just helps Salem. Every other aspect of the whale straddles that line wonderfully, adding to the creep factor, like a grimm version of the Uncanny Valley: it’s not quite a whale anymore… but landing pads? That looks ridiculous. Why does Salem even have that? How many ships are her people feasibly using? Why are there five?

Take it away, please.

Cinder waltzes in like this is a normal home visit, but Neo has an appropriate ‘What the actual fuck?’ face going on.

They approach Salem on her throne where Cinder immediately kneels, greeting her with, “My queen.” I mentioned during my trailer breakdown that I think Cinder is lying her ass off here, and I still think that based on a line we’ll get in a minute, but now at least we have a sense of how she can pull this off. A woman who started out as a (presumed) servant is going to know how to mimic subservience, even if her heart isn’t in it. Salem is very good at playing the girl who will still kneel and scrub the floor for you. She will scrub the floor, she’ll do everything you want, she’ll just be plotting her own rise to power while she does it.

There’s quite a bit of interesting cinematography in this episode, not all of it good, and I think one of the mistakes is here when we get a closeup on Salem’s mouth as she greets Cinder. A closeup like that should be reserved for more significant dialogue—“Rosebud”—and yet we get this shot again when Cinder tells Emerald to be quiet. It’s awkward and coupled with the numerous eye closeups we got in the trailer, I think RT is playing a little fast and loose with the camera. Each shot should add something to the scene, not distract from it. If you don’t have a reason for including a technique like that then leave it be.

Back to the actual dialogue though. We knew that Salem knew Cinder was alive and now it seems that she just expected her to come back? I’m slightly lost. It feels like we’re missing something here. Cinder goes off to secure the lamp, fails, nearly dies, wanders on her own for months, and then randomly shows back up on Salem’s whale doorstep, yet Salem isn’t angry at all? Did she have faith that Cinder would return when she has something to offer? Did she just not care about Cinder, considering her return an unnecessary but otherwise welcome surprise? That would make the least sense given that she holds the key to accessing Beacon’s relic… but that circles right back around to why Salem is seemingly indifferent to Cinder’s comings and goings. Surely she can’t actually believe that Cinder is loyal?

“So I trust you wouldn’t return to me empty handed,” she says. Yeah, trust means nothing in this show, Salem, didn’t you watch Volumes 6 and 7? Again, I simply don’t know. I suppose I’ll just chalk it up to confidence, that if Cinder did bail Salem knew she could track her down again. Deciphering her motivations and beliefs is a lost cause when the show continually gives us so little.

The important thing now is that Cinder does indeed have an offering and you can see that Salem is somewhat surprised at being handed the relic.

Cinder, of course, takes credit for the victory and we’re given another wonderful shot of Neo. ‘YOU took it?’

Oh, Neo. Best get out while you still can.

Tyrian appears having obviously made his way to Salem’s ship sometime between her arrival and now. The exchange is pretty standard for this group. He insults Cinder for failing and needing this victory to make amends, talks about how any win against Ironwood says more about his lack of intelligence than her skill, and Cinder… doesn’t have a whole lot of comebacks, actually. I’d say Tyrian won that verbal spar, enhanced by a better use of the camera when we get his tail looming menacingly towards Cinder and Neo.

He goes on to say that Watts was a “necessary sacrifice” so, uh… I’m just going to toss out the ask I answered yesterday. Based on our intro I’d say Watts is still significant to the volume—hacking Penny is my guess—but by the end? He could be in trouble.

(As a side note: I plan to analyze the intro next week. It’s just easier when it comes first.)

Tyrian also calls Neo “little one” which I just found absolutely hilarious. In an on brand creepy manner, that is. Not that Neo couldn’t kick his ass, but there’s something wonderfully chilling about having the serial killer use an endearment towards a potential victim, one that comments on her size while he’s looming.

In contrast, Cinder refers to Neo as a “valuable asset” and we get our third mood of the episode.

Who’s going to start a Neo reaction image collection?

It’s true enough on the surface—who wouldn’t want an ally who can turn into anyone else?—but we’re still bumping up against question of why Salem needs this. She’s immortal! She has an endless army! Magic! This scene works well with a villain who needs a skillset like Neo’s to succeed, but Salem doesn’t. RT is doing a great job writing a story thus far, just not the story we’ve previously been given. This isn’t the story they set up.

This will come back up when we reach the RWBYJNOR group. Just wait.

Before that though, the gang’s all here as Emerald, Mercury, and Hazel show up, all in new outfits.

I think I like everything except for the weird Xs on Emerald’s jacket—it’s way too distracting and frankly makes an otherwise good look ugly—and the fact that she’s showing her midriff in Atlas. Hazel doesn’t have any sleeves! Oh my god, why doesn’t anyone dress for the weather in this show?

Frankly, I found their reunion to be kind of lackluster. I mean, there was nothing wrong with it. Emerald does sound briefly excited, she does run, and it’s in character for Cinder to cut her off… it just didn’t resonate with me emotionally. I thought after two volumes of thinking she’s dead, then working through the knowledge that she’s alive, that I would feel Emerald’s shock and relief more, but I didn’t. And I’m not entirely sure why. I don’t want to level any accusations at the voice acting because frankly I know next to nothing about that skill (and from what I’ve seen it’s usually praised in the fandom), but I will say that throughout the premiere I was noticing it more than I ever have before. The lack of emotion here and some awkward deliveries later, like when Yang goes, “Ruby, there is no way Ironwood will cooperate with us” and I immediately thought, “Wow, that came out stilted.” These observations stick with me because, as said, voice acting usually isn’t on my radar. It’s not something I’ve studied or had practice analyzing. If you’d never told me that Ren or Qrow’s VA changed then after a year hiatus I literally wouldn’t notice… but there’s something about this episode that didn’t sit right. Anyone else get that sense, or was it just me?

Regardless, the arrival of our other three villains really doesn’t amount to much, though I’m happy for all the Emerald and Mercury fans who get to see them in new outfits. The focus is still on Cinder as she delivers a line indicative of her true motivations: “That power will be mine.” Yeah, she’s not loyal to Salem, she’s just power hungry. Of course, Salem immediately takes note of this and raises her hand, in another nice use of the foreground, reminding her that she hasn’t given that order.

Cinder is shocked, angry even, but quickly covers it up with her “Without you I am nothing” line. If I caught it right I think she also calls Salem “Ma’am”? Hilarious. Again, skilled at playing the servant.

Also, before I forget, it’s worth noting that almost everything from our trailer appeared in this episode. Yeah, there are a few details like Nora attacking some tech and the group on their bikes, but on the whole we’ve already seen the majority of our promo material and will likely get most of the rest next week. It makes me both interested and nervous for what another twelve episodes are going to hold.

Salem opens her whale, or opens a portal type view in it, something that gives us a long-distance look at Atlas. I don’t know what exactly is going on here, but it’s pretty so I’ll take it.

She also delivers the frankly badass line, “Just because you’re more valuable to me than a pawn does not make you a player.”

She waves them all away with perfect ‘You mean nothing to me’ attitude and we sadly leave our villains.

Sad not because I don’t love my farm boy, but because things are about to get a whole lot messier.

Oscar has made his way to a camp of civilian survivors… all of whom are just hanging out in the supposedly deadly cold. Yeah, there’s a single fire, but at least four of them aren’t anywhere near it. Three of them also aren’t wearing gloves. What was that survival rate again?

A nice if gruff dude gives Oscar soup—water?—while showing off his… badger claws? I don’t know what kind of faunus he’s supposed to be, but he feels like the sort of two second, minor character who could easily become a meme lol.

Oscar thanks him (my polite son!) and hands the bowl back after a single sip. Which is impressive because I would have assumed the guy was giving me the whole bowl and just taken it. Hell, I’ve done that even when I didn’t assume it’s all for me. A Starbucks barista once approached me with a tray and a plate of samples, I knew I was supposed to take just one, yet for some reason my hand went to take the whole goddamn plate. He had to tell me off, then I was trying to explain that I didn’t actually want or think I should have eight shots of cappuccino all to myself, I don’t even like coffee, he clearly didn’t believe me… it was awkward. So good job, Oscar. You’re less awkward than me (though that’s not saying much).

Now a question, Oscar. Darling. Brilliant boy who has been through too much: why the fuck aren’t you talking to Ozpin? This will be A Thing later when he presents a lack of time to talk as justification for keeping more secrets (we’ll get to that too…) yet here is time! You’re just sitting there for who knows how long, with plenty of privacy to hide a supposedly one-sided conversation so the Mantle citizens don’t get weirded out or suspicious. Talk to Ozpin. Our headmaster gets two lines in this episode, utterly inconsequential lines like his airship scene, lines that feel like they exist to say, “See? He’s still included in the story!” even though he absolutely is not. Two volumes of mostly silence, a perfect setup to start the reconciliation process, but we’re going to put it off again?

Instead Ruby randomly and conveniently appears. I want to know how she found him. Oscar isn’t wearing a tracker. He clearly didn’t call them because he’s surprised when Ruby shows up. He fell alllllllll the way back down to Mantle and then wandered to a random part of the slums. You’re telling me they flew over the entire city—after beginning this search thinking he was in Atlas—and somehow managed to spot him from up in the air? C’mon. I would have rather had a beginning where Oscar makes his way back to the group himself, giving him and Ozpin time to hash things out.

“Need a lift?” Ruby says, eliminating that potential. Sigh.

Oscar immediately starts beating himself up when he gets onboard, saying that he “was stupid to think the General would listen.” Nah, you were stupid to buy into Ruby’s nonsensical confidence and for telling Ironwood he’s as bad as Salem. Sorry, Oscar, but everyone is written badly these days. I will, however, say that I am THRILLED at the group’s reaction to his return. Ruby says that she’s “just glad you’re alright.” Nora has a wonderfully tender moment where she hugs him gently rather than her usual glomp.

That? That added a year to my life. Everyone else seems relieved that he’s okay too, so kudos there. After four years of Oscar being an outsider in the group, this is one of the few moments that feel like he’s 100% accepted. Really glad to see it.

Now let’s see if it sticks after they learn Ozpin is back...

They fly to the Happy Huntresses’ base and I again feel like I’ve missed something crucial. When did they team up? I mean, RWBYJNOR was working directly under Ironwood up until the last hour and Robyn ran off to fight Tyrian/Clover in the last couple episodes. When did she have time to explain her (briefly) changed allegiance and why would the Happy Huntresses trust the group without that? Did Robyn share that Blake and Yang went behind Ironwood’s back for her? Do the Huntresses instinctively trust them because they’re now wanted by the military? How did they even run into each other?

Again, I think we would have been better served to have an episode before all this. Let Oscar make his way back and let the group struggle with the magnitude of their situation on the airship, before they find new allies. Transferring directly to, “They have help and a secret base and a plan in the works!” makes me feel like I missed the real premiere last week. You know, the one where Salem unexpectedly arrived and we left the group like this.

This is where we’ve ended up though. The group is cozy in this hideout, getting info from Joanna, and my only other thought is, “Why is she giving all this exposition?”

Shouldn’t it be May? I mean, we were told that she was going to play more of a role this volume, a promise that’s pretty important imo given her status as a (so far off screen) trans character, so why not put her in the role of mediator between the Happy Huntresses and RWBYJNR? Giving her that setup as a leader among her people as well as lots of lines would be meaningful. A trans character just existing and being a part of this fight! May could obviously still fill that role—I’m well aware that we’re only one episode in—but it just seems like a missed opportunity to me. Out of all the undeveloped Happy Huntresses, our premiere focuses on the one who has the least importance to the fandom.

As said, Joanna talks a fair bit but what it basically boils down to is trying to get everyone to the crater below Atlas. It’s apparently not safe, but it’s warm, which is what matters right now.

So… let me get this straight. You want to gather everyone into a not safe crater, by leading them through an army of grimm, so that they can wait there in case someone moves the Staff, thus dropping an entire city on top of their heads? That’s the plan? Which admittedly isn’t Joanna’s fault. This is another instance of RWBYJNOR having information that a leader does not and they should really consider speaking up about it. But of course they don’t.

Also, how long does everyone have in regards to the cold? Shouldn’t there be dead civilians by now? The time it would take to find the Happy Huntresses, team up with them, get settled in the base, and find Oscar says that things should be pretty grim right now (pardon the pun), yet every non-aura user in this city seems content to just hang out in the snow. Either the cold is deadly enough to justify moving everyone to the crater, or it’s mild enough to let everyone survive this long, not both.

After hugs are given everyone obviously wants to know what happened to Oscar. His response?

“It’s a… long story. I get the feeling there’s been a few of those tonight.”

That’s a check for the bingo card! We’re halfway through the first episode and we’ve already got another secret. Yes, this is a secret. Oscar actively chooses not to tell anyone that Ozpin is back—something Ozpin himself comments on—and then skillfully draws attention away from himself with “I get the feeling there’s been a few of those tonight.” Indeed, all eyes go to Penny. Oscar’s plight is forgotten, which is what he wanted. His justification?

Ozpin: “You’re not going to tell them?”

Oscar: “You and I aren’t done talking yet.”

Along with this look.

Oscar no. There’s so much wrong with this I don’t even know where to begin. Let’s create a list.

As said, you had plenty of time to talk to Ozpin and chose not to. Miss me with this excuse.

You are now doing to your friends exactly what you and your friends did to Ironwood, which in turn is what Ozpin did to you! I can’t believe we’ve got Oscar critically side-eyeing him when they are still—still—repeating the behavior they drove Ozpin away for.

What is there to even talk about now? Oscar didn’t punch himself/Ozpin (lol) but he did steal Jinn’s name from Ozpin in the first place. You got what you wanted, drove him away, and have been lying and keeping secrets ever since. The only thing they should be talking about involves apologizing. Any further criticism—which is what Oscar’s expression and curt reply suggests—is beyond hypocritical.

Seriously, what needs to be discussed? There’s no reason not to tell the group unless Oscar wants to talk about whether they should tell them. There’s no good ending here...

Don’t you think it would be nice to know that Ozpin is back and you’ve got super magic powers while making plans to save the entire world?

This is all especially stupid given Oscar’s “Salem wants to divide us” reminder to Ruby in a moment. Oscar, you are doing the most to divide the group right now. By not forgiving Ozpin. By refusing to work with him. By keeping him secret from everyone else.

This is bad, friends, I worry for what the rest of the volume will bring…

The story is done with Ozpin for now so I guess I will be too. The group continues filling Oscar in and we get some shots of the base, including a rather prominent poster of what I assume are two Happy Huntresses. Did they die in battle perhaps?

It’s a little strange.

Oscar: “Where’s Qrow?”

Me: “Likely still making bad decisions.”

No one knows so they just drop it. Which I kind of get, only so much you can do to find him if he’s not out on the streets like Oscar, but it still reads as kind of iffy that two nieces look down at the ground for a hot second and then move on with their plans, content to leave Qrow to whatever fate befell him. In a minute we’ll see Yang firmly take Ren’s side regarding helping the people they can in Mantle, which frankly comes out of nowhere for her. I think an easy motivation would have been Qrow. Ruby wants to save the world, Yang wants to find and save their uncle, and that just happens to align with Ren’s desire to save the civilians who need immediate grimm and cold help. Don’t get me wrong, I like that there’s finally some division between the sisters, I just wish it hadn’t come about so abruptly. Ren had setup for standing up to Ruby. Yang did not.

But I’m getting a little ahead of myself. Joanna lists the grimm horde and no heat as the major threats to everyone. The group agrees.

Me: What about Salem?

Joanna says that this is all doubly dangerous because there’s “no more military protection.”

Me: Oh, so now you want the military?

This is all so disjointed. Even more-so when Joanna mentions that Ironwood has stopped all evacuations to Atlas, likely due to the “hard light shields” that are the only thing standing between Salem and the city. Thing is, the show never makes this connection, I just did it myself based on this scene and the one that comes later. The show presents Joanna’s line as a pure condemnation. Ironwood won’t let more evacuees in because… he’s just evil, I guess. Yet there is a justification here, namely that continuing the evacuations even while he’s stuck without Penny leaves him wide open to a Salem attack, the death of everyone currently safe, but that argument is never presented to the viewer. I don’t need people to agree with Ironwood’s perspective, I just wish that perspective was offered as an option. The show is very good about acting like RWBYJNOR’s opinion is the only justified opinion, or simply the only opinion at all.

After everything is laid out Weiss goes, “We’re never going to sleep again, I just know it.”

I could make a crack about the lack of continuity and how the group should be collapsing right now… but that was a funny line. It can stay.

What is far more of a problem is the fact that no one is talking about Salem. Okay, that’s a lie. They do talk about her, but in a roundabout way like her presence isn’t impacting every decision they make. That’s the real issue. They’re acting as if Salem isn’t here right now, like she’s off far away, maybe approaching slowly, and they’re arguing over how best to prep the world for her eventual attack. There’s no emotion here—let alone action—to reflect that the series’ Big Bad has arrived and is poised to murder them all. Literally what is this? Ruby is yelling about warning the world and, ignoring the continued question of why that’s a good thing when the world can do nothing to stop Salem and knowledge of her continually drives people to horrible acts, she has yet to acknowledge that… she’s the world? Ruby is the world in this conflict. She, Mantle, and Atlas. Salem is here for you all. Right now. You are, this instant, in the situation you want to warn others about, so why don’t you try to do something about it? Or at least acknowledge it. Ruby wants to warn the neighborhood about a potential fire while her house is actively ablaze, and the fire could have totally killed her by now but decided not to for… reasons.

“Ruby’s right,” Nora says. They have to tell the world so “they can prepare.” How? How are they supposed to prepare for this? The story cannot continue ignoring Salem’s immortality.

“Ruby’s right,” is all Blake says and I’m starting to thinks that’s why her character exists now, to agree with Ruby. It’s great that she’s getting a little distance from Yang, but man.

As Ruby asks whether Pietro can get Amity up and running despite it not being finished (called it) we start an incredibly odd sequence of flashforwards to their individual missions. I’ve seen a lot of praise for this already and though I agree that, in theory, it’s a good way to save time, I found the actual execution to be jarring. Upon thinking back through our timeline, it became clear they were flashforwards, but while watching I thought they might be flashbacks (especially since that’s more common).

Some of the shots, like Nora’s, just look awkward when you’ve got the exact expression and pose transplanted from one scene to another, like she’s a cardboard cutout behind a green screen. To say nothing of how the flashforwards ruin any suspense (I use that word loosely) in the conversation itself. If the question is, “Will they decide to go to the military compound?” then that question is answered when we see Ruby scoping out the compound, not when the group actually decides on the course of action.

It just made an already muddled scene worse for me, so I hope this trend doesn’t continue.

And of course, Amity can be used despite all the info last volume claiming that it wasn’t finished. Pietro suddenly acts like it is finished and the only thing standing in their way is Ironwood providing access. If that were the case, he would have used Amity weeks or days ago like he wanted to! When was it finished? Not after Watts commented on how incomplete it was. When did they get back the resources they needed from Robyn? It’s as ridiculous and retcon-y as I thought it would be.

Yang points out that Ironwood will never listen to them and Ruby counters that “he doesn’t have to.” They’ll just take the access from him. Because why wouldn’t they in a series where they’ve already stolen two airships? Stealing from the super evil military that Joanna wishes were helping them right now is just the group’s go-to plan nowadays.

Pietro isn’t sold on this plan though. He lists at least three obstacles they’d need to get through “and then… oh boy, I might need to think about this some more.” “And just to clarify,” Oscar says, “This is the easy option?” Um...no it’s not? We also know there’s an access point in Ironwood’s office so… why not go there instead? They really think the Academy is less guarded than the military base? There’s a potential justification here along the lines of, “After Neo and Cinder broke into his office Ironwood will have the place on high alert,” but unless I missed it the group doesn’t assume anything like that. They just listen to Pietro point out all the ways they can’t get into the military base and jump straight to that being the best option. It feels like a transparent way to create conflict for the group. We’ll just have them taking the most dangerous route despite an easy route being offered alongside it. Why bother mentioning his office at all? Just have the access in the military base. Boom, done.

It’s that conflict and the fact that Ruby tends to hear “You can’t” and digs in her heels. You can’t go to Atlas. I’ll just steal a ship then. You can’t defeat Salem. Watch me. You can’t break into this base. Guess what I’m doing! She’s dangerous in her fairy tale, meta-driven insistence that everything will turn out her way because she wants it to.

Speaking of, we finally—FINALLY—get someone challenging Ruby. Sort of. Not actually but it’s the closest we’ve ever gotten:

Yang: “Ruby, when we came here we said we’d follow your lead… but things haven’t exactly worked out.”

Now, there are two things to take away from this moment. The first is how utterly shocked Ruby and the others are. I mean, take a look at these expressions.

Ruby straight up can’t believe what she’s hearing. Weiss put her hand to her mouth like this is the most dramatic thing to ever happen to her. Oscar looks down in a ‘Yeah, I agree but please don’t look at me and make me admit that’ way. And Nora looks indifferent in the screenshot but animated she goes sort of stern, likely pissed that Yang would dare say that given her own agreement with Ruby. This not only reiterates that Yang’s challenge came out of nowhere—seriously, how did we move from following Ruby no matter what to this? Last volume she asked a single question along the lines of, ‘You sure?’ and when Ruby said ‘Yes’ Yang was entirely on board—but also demonstrates that no one has EVER said no to her before. Ruby is amazed that someone would challenge her. The act of challenging Ruby is, in and of itself, shocking. This group has gotten so used to following Ruby blindly that the teensiest little pushback is greeted with this.

Because it is teensy. This is the second takeaway: Yang barely challenges her and that challenge leads nowhere. She doesn’t accuse Ruby of anything, she doesn’t question her continued authority, she just broadly implies that things could be better. We followed you, now things are bad, take from that what you will. It’s incredibly mild as far as criticism goes, making the shock all the more, well, shocking, but it also amounts to—wait for it—nothing! Because Yang didn’t truly challenge Ruby’s leadership. She’s still in charge, she’s still calling the shots, and they’re still listening to her. We might have gotten some change if this division had been allowed to play out, but instead Jaune comes in with a, “Let’s go for both!” solution. It let’s both groups get what they want which, in turn, releases them from the need to grapple with whether they’ll listen to Ruby when she’s advocating for something they don’t agree with. We have now lost the chance to see whether, when push comes to shove, Ren and Yang will cave to Ruby’s will or stick by their own beliefs.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s more conflict than we’ve gotten in years, but that doesn’t mean it’s particularly compelling conflict. It’s good by RWBY’s standards, which doesn’t necessarily make it good. The actual issues at hand—Ruby’s dangerous arrogance, the group’s loyalty, her choices up until now—are just swept under the rug. For all the visuals we get insisting that there’s this great divide in the group… there’s really not. Not in any way that matters.

Also, Ruby is an idiot. Okay, that was mean, but she really is in this scene. She’s actually not an idiot overall because she was written as wonderfully intelligent in the early volumes, but now? Lately? She makes me want to bang my head against a wall.

“But that’s how Salem got this far,” she cries. “By dividing us!”

Ruby… oh my god, Ruby. No one should have to explain to you that dividing people means turning them against each other, not literally dividing your team to complete separate tasks. This girl honestly thought that because there was this teensy disagreement and that half the team would complete Plan A while she and the other half completed Plan B, both of which notably work towards the goal of, “Protect people from Salem,” that this was somehow what Salem wanted. That is was dangerous. Honestly, it’s a scary look at her view of leadership too: If everyone doesn’t 100% agree with me and do what I say, that’s an objectively bad thing that the grimm queen wants, right? Does Ruby think that unification means following a single person (her) without question or variation? That would explain a lot...

The fact that Oscar needs to explain the difference to her is not good. It really doesn’t say great things about this version of Ruby. Though he was comparing Ironwood to Salem last volume, so really they should all be wearing dunce hats.

Penny offers to take the relic directly to Salem in exchange for her leaving the kingdom alone. I honestly didn’t expect that. If anyone took that risk I would have put my money on Ozpin (but of course, during all this talk of the women he knows best, he’s kept quiet). Oscar is again the voice of wisdom, pointing out that they have no reassurance that Salem will keep her word. At least Penny is thinking about Salem as a threat though, so kudos for that. When this plan is shot down she volunteers to get Ruby past the military security instead and, uh, she’s a little intense about it.

I’m not entirely sure what is going on with Penny. She disagreed with Winter but then seemed to come around to her point of view, enough to help anyway. They had another (stupid) disagreement about the value of individual lives, so that helps to explain why she’s teaming up with RWBYJNOR (if you ignore that Ironwood is also trying to save individual lives...). Did watching Fria die shake her up? Is it being the Winter Maiden that’s not sitting right? Does Penny have lingering feelings about the framing that haven’t shown up until now? Her status as a ‘real girl’? We’ve got a lot of reasons that could definitely explain this sudden need to fight, but we’re not told which—if any of these—is the driving force.

We’re then given a lot of little details. Someone points out that if Salem gets the staff and “create[s] anything else” then Atlas will fall (so yeah, let’s move the people underneath it). We still don’t know what exactly the Staff does because “creation” is kind of broad and “powering a city to float” doesn’t seem to sit within that category at all. Pietro gives Yang the keys to his lab so they can get the bikes. We see the group dividing in the flashforwards, something I do like, especially since the show has gone out of its way to break up most of the usual duos. Nora in particular is pissed at Ren for his choice.

“Oh, I’m saving Mantle because I actually believe we can do this.”

#yikes. Well, I did say I wanted a conflict other than ‘Oh no, one of us might die’ and it looks like I got it. But Nora, the only reason you can do this is because the plot is in your corner: none of you are collapsing from two major fights, you didn’t lose your aura so the cold isn’t a danger, the military is barely a threat all of a sudden, Salem is helpfully hanging out in her whale instead of killing you, and the story decided that Amity can function so long as you all are the ones who get to use it. That’s why you can do this. Ren, who follows in-world logic and doesn’t want to risk a whole kingdom’s worth of lives on a pipe dream, thinks differently, oddly enough.

As they leave though Penny gets a call from Ironwood. I know precisely what the fandom is going to say here: “This evil man is just trying to use Penny to open the vault!” Of course he is. He needs it open to save everyone he can, Penny included. Plus the concept of “using” her is a double-edged sword. What do we think the group is doing right now? Using her to get past the security. Penny’s power is a tool any way you slice it. Granted, Penny volunteers to help the group, but notably here Ruby speaks for her. Penny seems torn and Ruby takes the scroll away with, “She’s not going anywhere until you change your mind about Mantle.”

Sorry, Ruby, but coming from you that sounds less like a reassurance for Penny and more like just an order for Ironwood. Remember Harriet? We’ll stop attacking you provided you do what we want. Ruby has yet to learn about compromises, let alone acknowledge that she might be wrong. How about you let Penny decide where she goes, especially since by all logic she should have a lot of loyalty to Ironwood. She knew him before she ever met you. She’s worked with him since she was rebuild post-Volume 3. Despite what Penny has said, if the story would just let her think about his actions for a hot second—making her the protector of Mantle, sticking up for her after the framing, sending her to the party, teaming her up with Ruby, etc.—she might realize that the ‘He doesn’t want me to have friends’ and ‘He just treats me like a tool’ assumptions are just that, unfounded assumptions. But no, Ruby speaks for them both because Ironwood is evil now.

“If she makes it through our defenses,” Ironwood says, “everything that follows will be on your hands.”

That’s true! Kind of like how it’s own Qrow’s hands that Clover died. When you insist on making a bad situation worse you hold responsibility when the shit hits the fan. You know though that Salem won’t get through their defenses now, somehow, so that there’s no chance RWBYJNOR will be blamed for it. Or, by that point Ironwood will be so crazed that anything coming out of his mouth is dismissed, no matter how accurate it might be.

We then transfer to the Ace Ops who are, despite what the fandom theorized for many months, clearly upset about Clover. Also pissed. Which they have every right to be. Their friend and leader was killed. Imagine for a moment that Ruby had been murdered by Tyrian with an allies’ help. Exactly what do you think the group would do? Swallow it quietly and get over it? Ha.

I’ve already seen some speculation that Clover survived due to details like showing us the bandage and his room being listed as for a “Patient,” but he looks pretty dead to me.

He got gutted through the chest and left out in the snow for who knows how long. We saw him slip away. Qrow screamed over his dead body. He’s not breathing now. If RWBY suddenly claims he survived this, I’m calling BS.

Most of the other visuals we get here were already dropped in the trailer. Winter is pretty injured from her encounter with Cinder, likely permanently based on her new outfit. Ironwood had to replace his arm—and I am calling BS on that “Losing his arm is reflective of him losing his humanity” commentary from RT. Please go read up on a couple decades worth of ableism in media and then get back to me.

We get Ironwood’s line about the light shields and, notably, a whole lot of empathy. Regardless of what he might want Penny for, he still called her with compassion. He’s watching the Ace Ops mourn their friend. He’s talking about protecting his kingdom. The first thing he says to Winter is, “Thank you, Winter. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Ironwood has a heart! It’s always on display, which makes this scene utterly ridiculous.

I literally don’t know how to respond to this. The gunshot made me jump, both because it’s a gunshot and because, again, what the fuck? I know I said that next volume RT might just have Ironwood descend into full villainy, shooting whoever he pleases now that he’s shot Oscar, but I didn’t actually expect them to do it. Because he never should have shot Oscar in the first place! I wanted the story to let Oscar grapple with it a bit and then quietly backtrack, acknowledging it as the mistake it was. The concept that Ironwood, empathetic Ironwood, rational Ironwood, always thinks before he acts Ironwood, let’s kids yell at him Ironwood, tried to team up with Robyn Ironwood, did everything Ruby wanted Ironwood, won’t kill Watts after he destroyed his arm Ironwood would shoot this guy just to shut him up is absurd. It was absurd then, it’s absurd now.

That being said, there’s a possibility he didn’t actually shoot the council member, but rather just (“just”) gave a warning shot down the hallway. I say this because the reactions to this are pretty tame. Everyone looks startled, yeah, but after the initial shot there’s nothing that I would expect if there was now a guy bleeding out on the floor. The council woman doesn’t scream. Winter doesn’t seem overly shocked. No one is running to try and help him. Basically, if Ironwood had just killed a political figure in front of six witnesses, entirely unprovoked, I would expect a bit more of a reaction than this. This feels far more like a, “Damn he’s not joking around, letting off warning shots to get people to leave him alone” not “WOW, our general just killed someone in cold blood!”

What I really hate though—beyond just assassinating his character—is how many fans think my friends and I are delusional for calling it character assassination at all. I hopped onto the RWBY tag for five minutes this morning and was bombarded with posts about how Ironwood needs to be murdered horrifically, anyone who likes him is sick, the Ironwood stans are as bad as Adam stans, you’re an idiot if you want him redeemed… because apparently the concept of a story writing a character badly doesn’t compute. I’m not here to argue that Ironwood didn’t do these awful things (regardless of whether he actually killed the guy or not). I’m not here to argue that they’re not awful. I’m just here to say that we never should have gotten these scenes in the first place, or if we were going to get them, we deserved an actual descent into murder at the drop of a hat territory. I’ve already explained extensively on this blog how early Ironwood was not accurate foreshadowing for this, and Volume 7 certainly wasn’t setup, but it looks like the majority of fans aren’t interested in examining whether any of this adds up. Which makes my job, as someone trying to examine this series somewhat objectively—in as much as that’s possible for any single viewer—as well as simply enjoy it as a show, really hard. It’s bad enough when a story keeps taking the characters you love and villainizing them, and doing that badly, but then when you turn to the community and see them rallying around the idea that you’re awful for being dissatisfied—you’re the bootlicker, you’re the blind stan, you can’t see what’s ‘really’ going on here… that sucks. For those of you happy and satisfied with Ironwood’s arc, that’s great! I’ve also seen a lot of posts hyping up the complexity of his character now. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying what we’ve been given and I’d never want to imply that just because it’s not what I wanted it’s somehow wrong. I’m honestly thrilled that after a year of worry so many people have adored our premiere, including this scene. I just wish that I could say RWBY had given me something I didn’t want in a persuasive manner and that the fandom as a whole was a bit more welcoming of differing criticisms.

Not that I didn’t already know the RWBY fandom had its flaws, but still lol.

That’s basically it for our premiere. Nice note to end on, huh? Our final scene is of Salem using the lamp to set her bloodhound grimm on the city. Why doesn’t she just go herself? What was she planning to do here in Atlas in the first place, considering that getting the relic was a surprise? Who knows. Little about this holds together. But we do end with another awesome shot, so small favors.

It’s always strange concluding a recap, but even more-so when it’s a premiere, during a historical moment in the U.S., amidst all the nonsense that is 2020. So for now I’ll just conclude with three quick things:

The updated bingo board will be listed at the end of each recap, provided I don’t forget about it lol. Today I’m checking off tone (not nearly enough freaking out about Salem), the team keeping secrets (Oscar), and major plot point dropped (Amity is suddenly finished). I could also probably check off the cold not killing civilians and getting Amity up and running, but we’ll see if any changes with those.

I’m including my Ko-Fi link at the end of recaps now. Not with any expectations. Not with anything resembling pressure. I thought long and hard over whether to include it at all—let alone mention it here—because I love doing these and never want anyone to feel like it comes with strings attached. But life is a little harder and weirder than it was last year, so I figure it can’t hurt. Feel free to pass on by and I won’t be bringing it up past this note.

Far more importantly: thank you for reading! :D

(Bonus 4. Editing this was an absolute nightmare — damn you, tumblr! — so I apologize if anything is super wonky when I finally post.)

See you next week! 💜

[Ko-Fi]

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #mymetas #rwby recaps

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nny11writes · 4 years ago

Text

For we will raise you, in safety and peace

Okay, tumblr ate the first attempt at this post, hopefully it doesn’t devour this one as well! Here’s the deal, I can’t seem to figure out a good ending for this fic to save my life and I don’t want it to languish in the pile of unfinished wips. So I’m going to post what I have here on tumblr to at least get it out there somewhere. If anyone has suggestions for an ending I am all ears! HUGE shoutout to @venn364 for helping me figure this fic out to this point and for helping me Horde-ify hush a by baby!

Rating: Teen (for some cursing) Category: F/F/F Relationship(s): Glitradora (Glimmer/Catra/Adora) Characters: Glimmer, Catra, Adora Warnings: None apply, this is a fluff fic Additional Tags: Multiple PoVs, fluff, happy fic, happy ending, crushes, idiots in love, dorks in love, young children, Catra deals with the curse of being cute, Adora is a massive dork but what else is new, Glimmer tries to flex on her crushes by singing, lullaby, hush a by baby, post war, post canon Summary: During the post-war reconstruction of Plumeria, Glimmer volunteers herself and voluntells her crushes to take care of the local children to keep them out from under foot. She just, didn’t expect the Horde to require childcare as part of their regular duties and rotation. Or Three Sapphics watch one another interacting with young children and go, “Well guess I’m somehow more in love, cool cool cool.”

Adora and Catra looked at one another and shrugged. “Yeah okay.”

Glimmer was relieved, don’t get her wrong, but that was…not exactly what she’d expected. “Just like that? That simple?”

It wasn’t like she’d expected them to just hop on board with her, even if she’d wanted this to all pan out.

Catra rolled her eyes, a bit too theatrically thanks, before answering, “Well, I mean, sucks to be doing Cadet chores again, but, whatever. Just a buncha kids.”

“I feel like I’m missing something,” Glimmer grumbled, rubbing a hand at her neck. “You’re not trying to act too cool, and you’re not freaking out enough.”

They shared another confused look before Adora spoke up. “I mean, why would I? We’ve done a bunch of rounds at the Infant Pods, more than our fair share in fact.” That last part she said with a pointed look at her oldest friend.

Catra stretched lazily, “I will not apologize.”

“Point is, we can do this. It’s pretty simple over all, especially with you there as a third!”

Glimmer laughed, “Wait. Hang on, seriously? I’ve never babysat before but you two have?”

“Really? Weird. But, uh, yeah. Everyone in the Horde has some child rearing experience, it’s literally part of your Cadet chores and rotation.”

The galaxy must be on it’s side right now. The Horde, the EVIL Horde, had enforced babysitting chores. “Why?”

Adora shrugged, “Well someone has to make sure they’re clean and fed, doing their homework-”

“Not destroying property or getting in dangerous situations before we could send them to the meat grinder-”

“Keeping them out from underfoot, and getting their energy out too.”

“Also the whole, sometimes babies just die when you don’t, like, hold them enough thing. ...What? Did you think Hordak was at the Pods rocking them to sleep?” Catra laughed.

It certainly was an image. Glimmer giggled as she pictured Hordak overwhelmed by a literal wave of babies. “No, I just never thought about it I guess. You’ll have to teach me.”

They both grinned and Glimmer felt her heart skip a beat. It was, look, don’t judge, it was a really, really good look on them, okay?

It only took a few minutes to arrive at the temporary nursery Perfuma had set up. While Plumeria was still being cleaned up, she’d wanted a safe place for the children to go, and only needed a few extra hands to help as she pulled her subjects to help redesign their homes. Not that she’d put it like that. Something about syncing their harmonies while reconnecting with their innermost roots? The point was that Glimmer had offered to help mostly to help and partially to avoid another extremely long and boring meeting, but one teleporting queen with no childcare experience was not ideal. Perfuma had been the one to suggest Catra and Adora, seeing as the reconstruction really relied more on Perfuma regrowing the homes in this particular space.

So, they were working with what they had. And apparently that meant Horde soldiers. Experienced Horde soldiers who knew what to do with kids. Weird!

When they arrived, it was chaos.

Catra couldn’t help the small grimace she wore, she’d never been fond of IPD. Kids are loud, they don’t have boundaries or respect for other’s boundaries either. She doesn’t know how many times some toddler or Junior Cadet had petted her or pulled her tail and ears with their mysteriously sticky little hands while covered in snot. But she could also say that the one good thing about it was, without fail, some baby was going to think you were the hottest shit ever. And it had done wonders for her low self esteem as a Cadet to know that she’d always collect a gaggle of kids who everyone claimed were impossible to handle doing exactly what she wanted.

It had actually been kind of hilarious out in the Crimson Waste to use some of the tactics she’d learned in the IP against grown gangsters and thugs.

Catra could also say that the very next best thing about it was watching Adora either slowly unravel into a total mess or watching Adora get all the other kids under her thumb. Not that Adora would think of it like that, the goody two shoes, but kids seemed to naturally either love the blonde or desire nothing more than to destroy her.

Especially at the time, Catra could relate.

She was actually kind of interested to do this now just to see Adora go at it again.

And also Glimmer apparently had no experience with kids and Catra would kill to watch that skiff wreck. No, ugh, she had promised to help hadn’t she? Alright, no watching that skiff wreck unless it happened before she could intervene.

She snickered a little as, just like she used to, Adora gave the attention claps that none of these particular kids would know. Embarrassingly, the old rhythm still made Catra’s back straighten a hair just thanks to the amount of times she’d heard it.

Adora’s voice rang loud and clear across the little fenced in area, “Atten-shun!”

The kids mostly stopped, but Catra had a feeling that was due to an adult shouting and not out of their training. Did rebellion kids have training? They had to get some kind of education for sure. Huh. Probably should look into that, like, now that it was post war and all.

“Hello, salutations, and greetings!” Adora started her old spiel as if she’d never stopped, putting on her ‘force captain’ voice which was almost a mockery more than anything else. Not that Adora realized that. “I am Adora, this is Catra, and this is Glimmer. Today we will be watching, caring, sharing, and not botching a wonderful day of enrichment with you. Starting now we will do our very best to educate, captivate, and celebrate without need to castigate! It is time to have fun and run, uh, under the sun! Can I get a hoo-ra?”

The part about their newly acquired sun was a nice touch, Catra mental gave Adora extra points for finally having learned to change it on the fly. Catra weakly lifted a fist to mutter ‘hoo-ra’ with a few confused kids. Oof. Rough, but not unexpected. These ankle biters hadn’t been trained to respond promptly and loudly to Horde commands.

Yet it still had about the same effect. The children were already split down the middle looking at Adora like she was a complete idiot or like she was the best thing ever. Soon more of them would think she was the best thing ever than not, kids loved Adora’s canned speech. It always got a few laughs. Kids were easily entertained by someone clearly putting on a show and rhyming.

Adora put on an over the top look of bewilderment, putting her fists on her hips in some sort of quasi-power pose before asking, “What kind of hoo-ra was that? I want you to shout from deep in your lungs, you won’t sound dumb when it’s all in good fun! Now can I get a HOO-RA?”

Catra gave a slightly more enthusiastic call, and was delighted when Glimmer gamely screamed her head off and then blushed as the kids stared at her, because they had still not shouted. Alright, this had already paid off! Nothing better that watching Glimmer blush like that.

Adora was smiling warmly at the queen, that was always a good look on her. “I SAID HOO-RA!”

This time they managed to get most of the brats on board. A whole army of kids no taller than her waist who were thrilled to scream, a few even did it more than once. It was kind of nostalgic.

“THAT’S what I call a call! I am floored by this horde-” Adora’s eyes widened in panic as she tried to pivot her pre-written speech for a second time. “-o-of wards! Floored! I am floored!”

Aaaand twice was one too many alterations. As much fun as it would be to watch Adora fall apart over it, Catra knew it was mean. And she was trying to, you know, to be less mean.

“Ca-Adora,” wow this was harder than she’d thought. She hadn’t almost called Adora a Cadet in years. “Will be working with any of you who’d like to play a singing and marching game. Line up in front of Adora if you want to join.”

Catra grabbed Glimmer’s hand to pull her forward, which really was only for the benefit of getting to hold Glimmer’s hand. “Anyone who does not want to play a game can join us, we will be taking care of the infants so it’ll be quieter.”

She was not surprised when most of the children flocked to play. There were always a few quiet ones or nervous ones who would hang back, and she was counting on it. Sure enough four kids shuffled their way instead of towards Adora, who was already sorting her little platoon into rank and file, teaching them a quick sound off to learn their names.

Catra motioned between her and Glimmer, “You know our names, what are yours?” The kids shifted awkwardly, looking at one another to start. Catra smirked. “If you don’t want to say I will give you a nickname. For instance, this is now Sparkles.”

Glimmer glared at her, but Catra didn’t stop or let her get a word in edgewise. She pointed at the first kid with glasses, “You can be Specs, short for specification.” A bold faced lie if she’d ever told one. “Stripes, I like your shirt!” Less of a lie. “Flower Power just like Princess Perfuma,” she nodded to the boy with a flower crown. The last kid was nervously shifting hoof to hoof, “And Two Step you got some fancy looking moves.”

“And what do you all think we should call Catra?” Glimmer asked, grinning evilly, as if the kids wouldn’t just suggest kitty or fluffy or whiskers. Maybe tails if someone was feeling creative.

“Kitty!”

Catra chuckled, it was like clockwork. “How about Big Cat? It’s cooler than Kitty!” They nodded gamely to the change. “Cool. Now, does anyone want to help me with the babies? We just need to hold them.”

That was how Catra found herself leaning back against a tree with an infant sleeping on her chest after she’d situated Glimmer and the quartet. All while snickering at some of the concerned looks being shot their way as Adora got the platoon marching and singing. If they weren’t gonna get their asses in gear to manage all the hyper kids, then they could suck it up. Besides, it wasn’t even that intense of a song.

“I think that learning is cool!” The kids echoed after Adora. “Which is why I will stay in school!”

It was schlocky and dorky, if she’d been over there she’d have died of embarrassment already.

Still, Catra couldn’t help but melt a little as Adora exaggerated a high march and then kids behind her did basically whatever they wanted as she marched them around the nursery. It was nice. Even if it made Adora look really dumb, it also made her look happy. Something Catra hadn’t seen a lot of from her in years. Oh no, she was getting mushy about this now?

Disgusting. She needed a distraction stat.

“Anyone have a good story?” Catra asked and after a beat of silence, promptly ignored the kids as they started almost talking over each other to tell something about their day or who knows what. Thankfully Glimmer seemed interested even if a little stiff and awkward. Catra was grateful that her fur hid a sudden blush as she watched Glimmer holding a baby and being enthusiastically engaged in the kids' stories.

Wow.

She gets away from the Horde for less than a year, and now she’s getting sappy over Sparkles.

Gross.

Adora, of course, had a plan. A good one with details and everything!

She was using her patented IPPA (thankfully, things had to be going pretty bad for her to resort to Infant Pod Plan B) and so far things had gone well. She’d taught her platoon to march, even got them to make up some rhymes to sing for it (even if she’d had to backtrack after one of the boys said ‘butts’ and everyone then started to just scream sentences with little sense ending with ‘butts’). After a bit of that she got them doing some basic exercise with her. Jumping jacks and running, she’d then start a game of charge and was already wincing in sympathy pains as some of the kids hurled themselves full speed at the enemy team only to fold in half around their linked arms. Still, the point was to give them free reign here to lose their minds and wear out their bodies a little in preparation for a well earned nap or quiet play time.

After making sure that Catra had eyes on her group, Adora left to hunt down water for everyone, and maybe spent a little time making heart eyes across the field.

Catra, despite what she thought, was pretty good with kids. Especially little infants. Between her fluff, heat, and purrs she was an instant baby soother. Adora would know, she was once the only big baby that Catra would soothe the same way. When they’d been younger, Catra used to lose her temper during IPD, but the older they got the more she’d pull it together. There had always been something heartwarming about watching Catra sit down with a kid who was upset and listen to them intently.

Then there was Glimmer. Gosh, she’d been so nervous going in, but seemed to be quickly becoming a favorite. Because Glimmer always listened to people, no matter their age, and her high energy responses appeared to be winning her fans. The more she integrated with the kids, the more she relaxed too. And there was something absolutely mind blowing about watching her bounce a little baby in her arms, while gasping in genuine delight at something a kid had scribbled into the dirt with a stick.

Adora didn’t even blush, didn’t feel a lick of shame as she quietly got affirmation that yes, girls.

“Ew,” one of the kids snickered after finishing their water, looking right at her before making a face.

She smiled, shrugging and offered her best, worldly advice. “Girls are great.”

“Ew.” They repeated before giggling and skipping away to their friends.

Whether they eventually agreed with her, liked boys instead, like everyone, or even no one, Adora felt very assured in her assessment of wow girls pretty, so she let it slide.

Later, standing at the barrel and handing out gourds of water or helping kids re-apply their protective balms (the sun was nice, but the sun could apparently burn you which was insane), she did another check. Taking note of any particularly worn out kids to send over to Catra’s group, and was very pleased that no one seemed to be really injured. Man, this was way easier than manhandling Recruits who were about to be Junior Cadets. Maybe she could do this more often? Without all the jockeying for power and praise it was actually fun.

After another thirty minutes whizzed by according to her internal clock, Adora decided it was time to start her platoon’s cool down for water and snacks. Maybe a nap after that. It was all smooth sailing!

Adora managed to make eye contact with Catra, flashing a quick few hand signs they’d made up when they were eight and almost lived in the pods between Adora’s clumsiness and Catra’s random bursts of high energy. Catra nodded, both hands occupied as she bottle fed one of the infants, and Adora almost died. First of cuteness, because Catra was looking so cute! But also from laughter because Glimmer’s tongue was sticking out between her teeth in concentration as she carefully fed another infant. And also because she looked super cute doing it!

What a sight! It took her another minute to realize she was just standing there staring at them with a horrifically soft smile on her face. And Catra was staring back with an equally mortifying soft look. And Glimmer was now looking between them with her own embarrassingly tender look.

So this is how I die, public affection.

For some reason this was the thing that set her off. Blushing as red as her jacket, Adora pivoted around to call the platoon to get some snacks and more water. Which, considering most of them were either still singing or making up marching songs, took a little bit to organize.

The snack and water break had been decently timed, they had just finished burping the last of the babies when Adora called all the kids over. Catra waited with Glimmer until everyone else had something to eat, before mingling as best she could. It was more second nature to keep her head on a swivel, making sure no kids were making a jailbreak and no one was beating someone else’s face in. Although that probably wasn’t a concern on the Rebellion side. Maybe she’d have to rescue a kid from suffocating under a bunch of hugs?

She shrugged and got a gourd of water, barely finishing it before Two Step tugged at her hand. They’d only gotten more energetic the longer they’d been helping, so she wasn’t even surprised when they asked, "Can I pet your fluff!?"

Catra sighed heavily. This is what she got for wearing a crop top around children. She turned to look at the Two Step and smiled as best she could while also dying inside. If she didn’t let it happen following her own rules, many kids would simply find a way to make it happen anyways. Better to get it out of the way and without sticky hands. Seriously what do kids even do that makes their hands that sticky? "Sure, but only if I can touch your antlers, they look fuzzy."

They almost stabbed her in the stomach with said nubbly antlers in their excitement, apparently oblivious for at least a moment about how fragile they were. Two Step was still wiggling around the way they had the whole afternoon as they rushed to explain, "They are! They’re new and growing in bigger and my dad says that someday they’ll be HUGE like his!"

She ran a few fingers carefully along the warm velvet and nodded, it was softer than she’d actually expected it to be, and it almost seemed like she could feel the blood pumping in them? Or maybe her brain was messing with her? Either way, weird. "Neat. Your turn kiddo."

Catra did her best to not groan in annoyance when the girl simply leaned forward to rub her face on the fluffiest part of her belly.

"You said pet."

"I am petting!"

"Petting is done with your hands, not your face."

"Says who?"

Well shit, had her there. “...alright, well played.”

She glared as the trademark a high pitched whistling sound of cooing alerted her to Glimmer and Adora looking at her with hearts in their eyes and sparkles around their faces. Not literally, but she could picture it. The traitors. She could see Glimmer mouthing the words so cute and groaned. She was not cute! Ugh!

“Okay, I think that’s enough.”

Two Step grumbled but let go. “Thanks!” And with that they skipped away to hang out with the other kids.

Oh yeah, definitely time to put the kids down for a nap if they could.

It had taken longer that Glimmer expected to calm down the kids. A small handful of them went tearing off around the field cackling like loons as Catra easily loped after them on all fours. Which of course resulted in more kids wanting to get chased for some reason, shrieking in delight each time Catra put on a hair more speed to tap their arms or legs. Eventually even they were exhausted and fell panting into the grass for Adora and her to watch while Catra continued herding. It was adorable and Glimmer was never, ever gonna let her live down her afternoon of being a sheep dog. If only Bow or Entrapta were here to take a picture!

Glimmer reluctantly left her post of watching and jeering at ‘Big Cat’ to help Adora get the youngest ones situated and sleeping rolls or blankets laid out. For the ones who refused to take a nap (whether because they weren’t tired or wanted to pretend they weren’t tired), Glimmer asked around to find a few decks of cards for them to use. She wrangled a promise from each group to be quiet so their friends could sleep, and by the time she’d finished that it was tempting to take her own nap.

Adora was efficiently sorting kids into sleeping spaces, and Glimmer smiled a bit at the way she let pairs and groups just pile up together. Having seen the impossible looking ways Adora and Catra could be found tangled up after a nap, she felt pretty confident that they knew what they were doing.

When Catra finally arrived with the last two kids, both of whom she carried under her arms as they giggled, Glimmer was grateful for the chance to relax a little with her friends. She nudged Adora’s side as they passed and whispered, “Maybe afterwards you can use She-Ra? You know, give them a climbing gym or swing them around.”

Adora blinked rapidly before breaking out in a huge grin and did a little over the top flexing before they made their way over to sit with Catra. And for a few minutes they sat in a peaceful silence, enjoying the sounds of the forest and leaning against one another.

“Pssst,” Stripes rolled over to look at them, making huge puppy dog eyes before asking, “Sing us a lullaby?”

Glimmer’s eyes sparkled as she turned to watch Adora and Catra apparently debate the issue, because hello! Getting to hear them sing lullabies! They rapidly signed back and forth, faces squashing and stretching as they added emphasis to the conversation before they turned and nodded.

“Okay,” Adora said softly, “but you can’t laugh, we only know Horde songs.”

“The Horde had songs?” A little boy asked, popping up from his blanket with a huge smile.

“Yeah we did. To be fair, they’re not uh,” Adora faltered and quickly looked at Catra, which to be fair Glimmer hadn’t considered that the songs they knew might be inappropriate. She quickly decided that she also didn’t really care.

“Adults probably wouldn’t like them here.” Catra supplied with a mischievous grin, apparently knowing that the kids would all be desperate to hear them now.

“Catra!” Adora hissed in what was probably supposed to be a whisper.

“I want to hear!” Glimmer added fuel to the fire and snickered at the look of betrayal on Adora’s face. “What? I do!”

She threw her arms in the air before huffing in her fake annoyed voice, “Fine, I’ll sing a song!”

There was a moment before Adora shakily started to sing both a very familiar tune set to very different lyrics.

Hush-a-bye baby, your crying will cease For we will raise you, in safety and peace If the walls crumble, there’s no need to bawl We’ll burn the villains, princess and all

Glimmer sputtered, accidentally ending it before it even started, not just because the lullaby included a line about burning rebellion citizens to death including princesses. But also because her mother used to sing this to her! “Wait, wait, wait, that’s- that’s not how that song goes!”

“Wha- yes it is!” Adora huffed, arms crossing as she blushed, “I said you couldn’t be mean!”

“First of all, you said I couldn’t laugh and I didn’t! Secondly,” Glimmer cleared her throat to sing her version. She’d always loved singing, even took lessons when she was younger before deciding she’d rather do it for fun. But what was the point of being able to sing flawlessly under pressure if not to flex on your crushes?

Rock-a-bye baby, thy cradle is green; Father's a nobleman, mother's a queen; And Buckley’s a washer, who wears a gold ring; And Tambour’s a drummer, who drums for the king.

Not that she got any further than Adora did before being interrupted as well.

“Ew, it’s all princessy!” Catra jeered playfully getting a few giggles from the kids.

“Uh, yeah, my mom sang it to me when I was a baby!”

“Gross. Ours is better!”

Adora laughed nervously, apparently unsure what to do as their play fight went down in front of a room full of impressionable children. Which, really, was her own fault for not expecting it.

Glimmer puffed up and leaned forward, tapping Catra on the nose just to be a brat before issuing the challenge she knew would get results. “Prove it!”

Ah, the good old stand by of “prove it”, as equally effective as a double dog dare!

So Catra, looking genuinely affronted, took a breath and sang in a wholly and unfairly good voice.

Hush-a-bye baby, your crying will cease For we will raise you, in safety and peace If the walls crumble, there’s no need to bawl We’ll burn the villains, princess and all

Baby is drowsing, valiant and brave With Hordak’s power, disorder we’ll stave Though cadet’s sleeping, her dreams we all share For order and harmony’s, our duty to bear

Hush-a-bye baby, do not you fear Never mind, baby, your squad is right here Strong little fingers, but eyes must shut tight Stay sound asleep now, until morning’s light

“People sang to you as babies about Hordak’s power and burning people?” Glimmer asked, both perplexed at the Horde-ified version and slightly disturbed. No wonder some of their soldiers bought the Evil Horde’s propaganda if this was what they were taught from the cradle!

“Glimmer, I love you, and I say this with as much respect as I can,” Catra said without an ounce of respect in her body or soul, “We grew up in the Fright Zone under the eyes of commanding officers of the Evil Horde. What did you think they sang to us about?”

Well shit, had her there.

#Glimmer #Adora #Catra #Glitradora #SPOP #she ra #fanfiction #fanfic #dorks in love is just *chef kiss*#the Horde sings lullabies to their babies #surprisingly familiar but wildly different lullabies #halp this fic won't let me wrap it up in a satisfying manner so I'm throwing it into the wind to see what falls out #this could absolutely end with them going into a relationship #or it could absolutely end with them just crushing on one another #suggestions are welcome!

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trillian-anders · 5 years ago

Text

first blood

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

warnings: angst, general asshole-ness.

word count: 4.6k

description: part 3 of 5. how did you become ransom’s glorified babysitter? and why the fuck are you keeping this job? who knows. you hate it, you hate him, but... the money.

note: tumblr is being super shitty rn so I can only post on mobile, but I really wanted to get this off my desk! will add a read more and properly link later 💕

prequel to the assistant && four christmases, spoiler free loves.

You have to do this.

You don’t think your eyes will ever feel normal again. They were dry and scratchy. There were no more tears to shed. You’d buried your Mom two months ago, but you didn’t know how it would ever feel okay. She did everything for you and Julia. Everything. She worked hard, made pretty good money, allowed you to have a part time job and just focus on school. Julia was in this really nice private school, she played the cello now for fucks sake. She had friends and was talking about maybe starting soccer soon, but after funeral costs and your sister’s tuition the life insurance money was running out.

You had to sell the house.

You’d moved the two of you into a small apartment right outside of Chinatown. Not the safest area, but not the most unsafe either. You’d be fine. You had each other, and she needed you to do this. You had to do this.

For her.

You sat uncomfortably in the cheap office chair, sitting across from a woman with too many papers on her desk, everything sloppily arranged around a couple of potted succulents and a framed picture of her and her three kids, no spouse.

“So your last job was in tutoring?” She asked you. You shifted nervously in your seat, nodding your head,

“Yeah, I tutored a high school student in English and Math.” You needed some water. The cheap pencil skirt and blouse you were wearing made your skin itch. She types into her computer some more.

“So why are you here?” She asked, “Why not continue tutoring?” A few more clicks and then more typing.

“The family I worked for paid me pretty well,” You admitted, “But she’s graduating this year and they didn’t need me anymore, I don’t really,” You cleared your throat, “I don’t really have much job experience outside of that and I need to start making money now… I’ve put out job applications but haven’t really gotten any luck.” Not with the income you needed anyway. The woman nodded. The plaque on her desk said her name is Stacy Chandler.

“Alright, here you are.” A printed page, address, date, and time. A job. Clerical work. Data entry. You have to do this...

“How was your last day of school?” Julia sat heavily at the kitchen table, backpack slumped on the floor next to her. She buried her face in her arms.

“I’m never going again.” Came muffled from her mouth. She lifted her head to look at you. The beginnings of puberty. You’d recently gone bra shopping for the first time. Real ones, no more training bras. You’d recently taken her to the dermatologist for her acne, but she’s not good at remembering to put on the expensive creams you bought. What a hard time. You don’t envy her.

“Luckily for you,” You smiled, placing a fudgy brownie in front of her, “You don’t have to go back for three whole months!” She rolled her eyes heavily, taking the brownie and disappearing into her room presumably to sit on her computer until dinner.

She was feeling the absence of your Mother just as you were. You weren’t sure what to do here. You loved your sister and you know she loves you too, but in the last few months it’s just been closed doors and a few parting sentences. Only because you had to work so much. Only because she spent a lot of time at friend’s houses where you’d think she would feel normal for a while. It would help ease the burden of being in your mid-twenties and suddenly feeling like a single mother. Of course you can sleep over at Mila’s house, her family is going to their cabin for the weekend of course you can go!

You didn’t know what to do other than keeping her in school and alive. You weren’t ready for this. But the only other option was your estranged aunt who reeked of mothballs and was constantly asking you if you were married, or dating, or ‘You’re Mother wouldn’t have wanted this’. No. It was very clear that your Mom wanted the two of you to stay together, and that’s how it’s going to be.

This summer she was going to spend with her friend Mila at their family’s lake house. Mila’s mother was a stay at home mom with six kids under the age of 12 and would be planning to spend the summer pintresting activities and projects with them while simultaneously getting out of her stuffy-old 10 bedroom, 8 bathroom mansion. Lucky her. Lucky Julia.

The apartment would be empty without the 12-year-old pre-teen for three months, but Julia has really been looking forward to it. Her bags were packed and ready by the door.

You hugged her tightly in front of Mila’s house, burying your face in her hair, partially not wanting her to go, but otherwise knowing that she’s going to have a better time than you could ever provide her. “Okay, you can let me go now.” She shifted in your arms, trying to pull away.

“Just another minute.” You mumbled, pulling her in tighter. “I’m gonna miss you.” She laughed,

“I’m gonna miss you too.” The two of you pulled apart and you tucked her hair behind her ears, cupping her sweet face.

“I love you,” You said very seriously, “If you ever want to come home just-”

“I’ll let you know.” She was getting impatient, the car Mila’s mom was taking to the lake house, a beautifully large black Range Rover sat packed next to you, they were waiting. “I love you too.” She slowly backed away towards the car.

“If she gets homesick, my husband still comes back every week for work so he can bring her home if need be,” Andrea was her name, Mila’s Mom. “She’ll be fine.” Andy was really nice. She made a lot of the food the two of you had eaten in the early days after your Mom’s death. Her gentle reassurance soothed you slightly. It made driving away a little easier, but it didn’t stop the tears that fell as you entered your apartment, alone. For the first time in a while. You didn’t have to hold it in anymore.

You sunk down against your front door, staring out into your living room, tears rolling down your cheeks in the silence of the home. Dirty shoes lined up against the wall, throw blanket hanging halfway off the couch, dirty dishes from breakfast still in the sink, and somewhere you’re sure under all of it was the will to pick yourself back up.

You just didn’t know if you were ready for that quite yet.

But you did it anyway.

More clerical work. More data entry. More bills going half paid and others being ignored all together. Student loans you didn’t even want to think about from a school where you hadn’t even graduated. Medical bills you didn’t even know where to begin paying back, itchy stockings, and uncomfortable shoes. With every day that passed you reexamined your life. How did you get here?

A new job, a new office. Temp assigned, but you knew who worked here. The building that housed it stood tall against the Boston skyline. Contemporary. You sat comfortably in a cushy office chair. The plaque on the desk read Linda Drysdale, CEO. And you waited.

You hadn’t seen the Thrombey’s, let alone the Drysdale branch of the family, for five months. Zero contact. Joni had talked to you last, thanking you for helping Meg, but also trying to sell you eye cream. “You really should invest in taking better care of yourself.” Which was her kind way of trying to tell you that you look old. Thanks.

You couldn’t imagine what Linda would want you for. You’d been doing some filing, they were transferring all of their documents to digital and hired extra help to do so, you were one of three hired from your particular temp agency, but yesterday she had called you personally and asked you to come in for an appointment today at 3 pm. And here you are.

Waiting.

There was a portrait of her family on the wall. Linda herself sitting in a high backed intricate chair, her husband Richard standing to her right, and to her left was her son, Hugh. He went by his middle name Ransom. They were stone faced, serious looking. This painting seemed ridiculous. If you didn’t know the Thrombey’s you’d think it was there to be ironic, as a joke, a play on what rich families were like.

But they were a rich family, and this is what they were like.

Linda was self-serving. She only ever talked to you when it suited her own interests and as soon as she was satisfied she would quickly direct her attention somewhere else, to someone more important. She used you to get what she wanted and when you served her purpose you were gone. She had no time for anyone, only her father. Anything for Harlan.

Richard was a predator. He was always making an uncomfortable comment about either your body or your face. He stood uncomfortably close at times and liked to settle a hand on the small of your back. He was a well kept man, throwing his wife’s money around like it was his own. He kept a money clip of hundreds in his pocket.

Ransom was a piece of shit. He was a self-centered egotistical asshole who was sure to make your life a living hell every time he saw you. There was always a comment, a jab at your clothes, your hair, the fact that you are poor. He once ‘accidentally’ threw your cardigan away because, “I thought it was one of those fucking rags you dust with, I didn’t want it touching my burberry.” He, like his father, felt predatory. Something about being a rich white man just really got them going, and the money clip with the hundreds… a learned habit.

“Alright,” Linda’s voice came from the doorway, you turned slightly in your seat. She was on the phone, “Well we will send Michael out to show them the properties instead, I’m sure we’ll find something they like.” She gave you a finger, hold on, even though you’d been sitting here patiently waiting for her for close to twenty minutes now. “Okay,” She continued, “Sounds good.” Sitting down in her chair, tapping a few keys to illuminate her computer screen. “Alright now, bye-bye.” She took her phone from her ear, looking down at the screen before placing it face down on the desk and smiling at you.

You knew that smile. She wanted something.

“So, Y/N right?” You nodded, “I see you’re looking for work.”

“Well, I’m with a temp agency right now but-”

“Would you like something a little more permanent?” A permanent job? The Thrombey’s had paid you very well to tutor Meg, better than you were making now. Granted you had only worked 15 hours a week when you were tutoring her, so $20 an hour didn’t seem like that big of a deal, but if they were looking for something, anything full time…

“Absolutely,” You smiled, shifting in your seat, “I’ve had trouble being hired because my-”

“Okay so you’re going to need Ransom’s number, and you’ll start tomorrow.” Your smile dropped.

“Ransom needs a tutor?” You asked skeptically. She laughed.

“No, he needs an assistant.” She gestured towards herself, “I can’t keep telling him when or where to be for family events and he has a fairly active social life so I’m gifting him an assistant for his birthday.” Oh.

“I uhm,” You really didn’t want to work for Ransom. You REALLY didn’t want to work for Ransom. “How much would it…?” You trailed off nervously.

“My father paid you $20 an hour to tutor Meg, yes?” She asked, typing something into her computer, no longer looking at you.

“Yes, he did.” You moved trying to see what she was typing without bringing too much attention to it. She was drafting an email.

“So I’ll pay you the same. Ransom will set hours for you and decide what days of the week he’ll need you and what else he wants you to do,” She waved her hand dismissively, “Cleaning, cooking, whatever.” She scribbled on a post-it before peeling and handing it to you. “Here’s his number and address, you can go over the particulars of your job tomorrow morning.” You opened your mouth to speak again, ask her the million and one questions you have but before you could say anything she dismissed you, “That is all.” She said. And she was done with you.

She got what she wanted. And now she wanted you to leave.

So you did.

“Well,” He grinned, “Linda really scooped you up from the bottom of the barrel, huh?” You stood on Ransom’s front porch. The only texts you sent and received last night were ‘What time do you need me to be there?’ and an hour later the reply of ‘11’. The scumbag was standing in the doorway, leant against the frame, looking down on you. In more than one way.

“Can I come in?” You asked. You really didn’t want to do this. But a $12 an hour temp job versus $20 hour stability… hard to beat. He smirked, pushing off the frame before looking you up and down, turning to disappear into the house.

“Take off your shoes.” What a fucking joke. His house was a mess. Clothes thrown haphazardly around, a pile of dishes not in the sink, but on the counter. Abandoned cups, tv was rolling on in the background, some political documentary. The house, while contemporary and clean, well kept on the outside. The inside looked like a frat house during rush week. You didn’t want to take off your shoes in fear that you’d step in vomit or something worse.

He grinned off to the side, “Had some people over last night.” He explained, drinking what looked like orange juice from a coffee mug. The vodka bottle that was capless on the counter led you to believe that orange juice wasn’t the only thing in the cup. “You can start by cleaning up.” He gestured around, sinking back down into the sofa. “I’m sure I’ll think of something else you can do when you’re done.” The fucking prick.

You shut the door a little heavier than intended, slipping your sneakers off and placing them by the door. “You’ve got a laundry room?” You asked, he didn’t look away from the television,

“Basement.” And he was done with you too. The tone was very, don’t talk to me. Which honestly you were grateful for.

You cleaned up his messes, the red solo cups that littered almost every surface in every room, laundry was running in the basement, dishwasher working hard to sanitize the first round of plates and cups that could fit, the others waiting patiently in the sink as you wipe counters and dusted picture frames, the thick film of unappreciation. He didn’t care about his house, his furniture, the art that cost more than your apartment that lined his walls. His clothes, while having an extensive closet, some were threadbare and with holes.

He didn’t care.

And it made you angry.

You thought of the furniture you were able to keep from your Mother’s house, well oiled and kept. No scratches. The fabrics of the couches and chairs carefully cleaned and maintained.

His sheets were stained and you were unsure when the last time he had washed them actually was. The dampness made you gag. It wasn’t long before you were cleaning under his feet. His ankles crossed and feet resting on the coffee table as you straightened the area around him. You felt his eyes on you, briefly, but ignored it.

“Do you have any real clothes?” He asked suddenly. He stood from the sofa, rounding it to pull the vodka bottle back out from the cabinet you’d placed it in, pouring heavily into the coffee mug before leaving the bottle and the orange juice carton he followed with next to it.

“These are real clothes.” You stated, coming behind him to put the items away. He scoffed,

“I’m important,” He claimed, “I go to parties, events.” He took a large mouthful of the screwdriver he’d just made, “You can’t wear clothes like that if you’re gonna be babysitting me the whole time.” You rolled your eyes,

“I don’t have to go. You set my hours, I don’t-”

“As much as I love the whole, ‘I’m poor and don’t care what I look like’, thing you have going on,” Ransom laughed, “You’re gonna be around me, and as a reflection of me, you need to look presentable.” He gestured to the demin shorts a t-shirt you were currently wearing, mismatched socks on your feet. You felt your face flush. “And slap a little makeup on.” You rolled your eyes at that. Fucking dick. He smirked when you didn’t reply, turning back around to leave you and disappeared upstairs.

He didn’t come down for a while. In that time you’d finished cleaning the living area, the house looking a complete 180 from where it had been when you’d originally entered, it was nearing dinner time. Your stomach was growling and you’d realized you had been cleaning for five hours without stopping.

You didn’t get to enjoy the sense of accomplishment because Ransom came down the stairs not a moment later, dressed for his evening. If you didn’t hate him so much you’d drool. He looked good. Patterned slacks, chelsea boots, a lightweight white button down, blazer over one arm. “Let’s go.” He said, not stopping on his way towards the front door.

“Where are we going?” You felt gross, covered in grime from cleaning, sweat dried on your skin you knew you probably didn’t smell amazing, hair frizzed up in a bun. He didn’t answer you, continuing outside. You sighed heavily, throwing the pair of socks you’d just matched back into the laundry basket before slipping your shoes on and following him outside.

“C’mon!” He yelled from the front seat of his beamer, sunglasses on his nose, he was annoyed with you. Whatever. You sat heavily in his passenger seat, the dickwad not even giving you time to close the door before he was speeding down the driveway.

“Where are we going?” You asked again. One hand on the wheel, the other’s fingertips brushing against his lower lip he looked at you from behind his sunglasses.

“To dinner.” He smirked, looking back towards the road as you merged onto the interstate.

He was a fucking asshole. If you hadn’t thought he was before you definitely knew now. You were surprised the hostess even let you into this place. It was expensive, and you were very, very underdressed. Point taken Ransom. Thank you. Fucking prick.

He took glances at you ever so often, seated a few feet away from him at the long banquet style table that housed all of his ‘friends.’ Gorgeous women and equally as gorgeous men who had money to burn. You weren’t sure any of these people have ever worked a day in their life, much like Ransom himself. You’d met a few of them before, briefly, when Ransom would show up and ask Harlan for money before disappearing for a week, one or two of them would be in tow bragging about going on some guy’s yacht or flying out to some private island.

Regardless, they weren’t talking to you. You were a strange interloper, easily ignored, but only after a few poked fun at the stray dog at Ransom’s heels. It only stung a little bit when he laughed with them. You were wildly uncomfortable. You poked at your deconstructed salad, the little bits lined neatly up on the plate, a smear of salad dressing beside it. This menu was ridiculous. Why were you here again? You were so hungry and this was not your speed at all. Ransom’s booming laugh met your ears and you could feel the anger rising in your chest.

Fucking asshole. You hoped he would choke on one of the olives in his martini. His eyes met yours momentarily and he smirked. He fucking smirked, cheersing you with his martini before it met his lips again. You could kill him right now.

The money.

Technically you were still working. As the sun set behind the horizon. You’d been at work, technically, for about 10 hours. That’s $200. Okay, you can do this. You can do this.

You know he did this to embarass you. He made it clear when you’d pull up to the restaurant to give you a taunting look. Whether the dinner was already planned or he had planned it after the conversation about clothes and makeup earlier was anyone’s guess. You had the feeling it was the latter.

He’d paid the bill after all.

The entirety of it.

You’d wished you’d ordered more.

Afterward a giggling girl took your place in the front seat, you glared at the back of her head from the back seat,

“Ransom.” She whined, leaning over in her seat to press her lips to his neck, “I want you to fuck me.” Lips around his ear, sucking the lobe into her mouth. You shifted your gaze to the window, the city landscape passing your eyes as you’d pulled into another valet parking, a bar this time. A nice one.

Ransom and the bubbly girl from the car ride over slipped hastily into the bathroom, he’d sent you a dark look before leaving you to your own devices. Looking over the cocktail list while sitting uncomfortably on a bar stool while your boss was fucking a girl who’d laughed at you for being a ‘dog’ earlier in the bathroom of a bar that had a $20 old fashioned and their most expensive wine came with a thousand dollar price tag.

“You lost?” Another smirking asshole, sidled up next to you at the bar as you took a sip from the beautifully balanced old fashioned you’d tacked onto Ransom’s tab. He was handsome, the guy bothering you, almost everyone in this room was handsome. The lights low and romantic, candles on every table and across the bar, soft music played from the piano across the room where a man sat gently stroking the melodies to create the ambiance of the room. Close, cozy, romantic, and dark enough to forget yourself in.

“Oh c’mon honey.” The man slipped onto the barstool, thighs spread wide around you as you face away from him, his hand meeting your back. “I can help you find what you’re looking for.” His breath reeked of alcohol. You glanced over at him,

“I’m fine thank you.” Another sip, damn this drink was good. He chuckled, moving in closer, drifting a hand down to your thigh.

“Don’t be like that.” He laughed, “You obviously don’t belong here honey.” His hand traced your bare thigh, “You’ve gotta be wanting some company.”

Ransom had returned face flushed and you could almost see a tiny bit of white on his nose, but it was quickly rubbed away. He sat on the opposite end of the bar, the girl from earlier taking his lap. He looked down at you briefly, he had to have seen how uncomfortable you were, how this guy was breathing down your neck. He ignored it, ordering a drink from the bartender.

“I don’t want any company,” You shoved the man’s hand away, “Have a great night.” He leaned back in his seat, downing his drink before leaning back over to put his face in yours.

“Fucking ugly bitch.” He spat, standing from the stool, “Tryna give you a little charity here, you could've at least been grateful.” You wanted to leave. He shoved your shoulder slightly as he walked away from you, no doubt going to bother some other unsuspecting woman in his radius.

You needed some air, taking the last sip of your drink you’d scooted back from the bar, walking by Ransom to take your exit, walking out into the summer night. It was early summer. It was still only 60 at night. A chill went through you. You hadn’t expected to be out so late, the comfortable denim shorts and old ratty t shirt you’d chosen to wear had obviously been a mistake for this day. Ransom made sure to make you see that.

The bar was on the harbor, and it brought in a breeze that caused goosebumps to rise on your skin. You checked your phone, the battery almost dead. Julia had been texting you periodically, but not as much as you would have liked. You scrolled through the most recent messages, you asking how her trip was going and what she was up to and her stilted replies. She was busy you supposed. She didn’t need you, but right now you really needed her.

This night has been a massive blow to your self-esteem. You’d never felt more ugly and unwanted in your life. You just wanted to go home, but Ransom wasn’t done yet. You looked at him from the window, his fingers were gone between that girl’s thighs, they were both drinking expensive cocktails, completely oblivious to you.

He’d watched you exit, not giving it much thought it seemed, because he hadn’t made any motion to bring the night to a close, but you weren’t really expecting him to. It was Ransom’s world and you were just living in it. You worked for him. And you wondered if this is how every day is going to be from here on out. You really don’t know if you could do this forever, but you knew you didn’t want to go back inside.

So you didn’t.

Thankfully Ransom stumbled out about thirty minutes later, girl from earlier on his arm. “Let’s go.” He said. Valet pulling the beamer around he threw you the keys, “Take me home.”

He sunk down in the back seat, high and drunk. His words almost incoherent. Her’s were no better. They sloppily attacked each other in the back seat, indecently. And you were pointedly looking anywhere but in the rearview. Soft grunts and moans made you uncomfortable for the fourth time that night. Your skin crawling in unease as the girl’s giggles turned into breathy moans. Your foot sunk against the gas pedal in hopes you’d get back to his home faster, tears welling up in your eyes. The cry on the way home was going to be so good. So cathartic.

The gravel crunching against the wheels of the car was a sweet relief, so was the haste in which you left the keys in the car, running and skipped to your own car. His eyes met yours through the darkness as he was leant up against his car door, slacks loose around his hips, the girl’s lips attached to his neck as her hand worked quickly between his thighs. He smirked, waving a sarcastic ‘good-bye’. You turned your eyes to the road, cranking up the radio as you began to cry.

You didn’t want to do this anymore.

A text came through right as you finally laid down in your own bed, snuggling into the covers, ready to forget the night.

See you at 9.

taglist // @littlechillies @hellizhelusive2 @notbexmader @marvelouspottering @whitequeenasitbgan @Thegraylaway @readermia @i-believe-in-unicorns-and-you @princess-evans-addict @perplexed3001 @Diedrashouseofpain @hailmary-yramliah @sleepycvpid @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @starlywars @gifsbysimplysonia @rocknbasil @imnotelasticheart @wannabegonnie @d1sconnect3d @heyguyz13 @unimomajo @this-is-serenaa @steviemae @bemysugarbean @truefangirlheart @babiiface95 @mydarlingharry @elzzin @bookish-shristi @saturnki @jennmurawski13 @geeksareunique

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #knives out #chris evans

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bayleaf542 · 4 years ago

Text

The self-proclaimed Anarchist, Bayleaf542, has logged on

"Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night. Um, I actually worked in that office before you. I'm finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact. So, I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I'm here to tell you there's nothing to worry about. Uh, you'll do fine. So, let's just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay? Uh, let's see, first there's an introductory greeting from the company that I'm supposed to read. Uh, it's kind of a legal thing, you know. Um, "Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. A magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life. Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or person. Upon discovering that damage or death has occurred, a missing person report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon property and premises have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpets have been replaced." Blah blah blah, now that might sound bad, I know, but there's really nothing to worry about. Uh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit quirky at night, but do I blame them? No. If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I'd probably be a bit irritable at night too. So, remember, these characters hold a special place in the hearts of children and we need to show them a little respect, right? Okay. So, just be aware, the characters do tend to wander a bit. Uh, they're left in some kind of free roaming mode at night. Uh...Something about their servos locking up if they get turned off for too long. Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day too. But then there was The Bite of '87. Yeah. I-It's amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know? Uh, now concerning your safety, the only real risk to you as a night watchman here, if any, is the fact that these characters, uh, if they happen to see you after hours probably won't recognize you as a person. They'll p-most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. Now since that's against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, they'll probably try to...forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear suit. Um, now, that wouldn't be so bad if the suits themselves weren't filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices, especially around the facial area. So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort...and death. Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth when they pop out the front of the mask, heh. Y-Yeah, they don't tell you these things when you sign up. But hey, first day should be a breeze. I'll chat with you tomorrow. Uh, check those cameras, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power. Alright, good night."

idk why, I just really wanted to post that for my first post on here, how are you people of this website called Tumblr

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belphegor1982 · 4 years ago

Note

And Tom and Jon, 31

(EDIT: urgh, sorry, Tumblr is stupid and won’t put the “keep reading” at the right place. So this is a long post. Sorry again :S)

(“flowers” it is, then!) This is set just at the end of the Christmas holidays, after Jonathan returns from home. Our two lads have acknowledged that what they have is more than a couple of friends having fun; they did the do, they said the words, and they’ve come to terms with that. Now if they could only find a beard girls to (pretend to) flirt with to hide the fact that they love each other 🤔

(which is how you get this: fluff! idiots in love being idiots! and proof that Tommy does have his share of chancy ideas, as well :D)

Lost in Translation

“Flowers?” Jon repeats, sounding a little suspicious. Tommy nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah, flowers! My cousin Annie and her husband sent each other flowers at least twice a week before they got married. She said each one had a special meaning and they had whole conversations without even sendin’ each other letters. Apparently flowers have a ‘language’.”

“That does ring a bell, yes,” Jon says, still squinting in that way he has when he thinks someone is trying to put one over on him. “It’s not a language I speak, though. And you’re proposing, what – giving flowers to random girls in the hope that they’ll stop long enough to talk?”

Tommy shrugs.

“Why not? At the very least it might make them smile. And it’ll make a good talkin’ point.”

There is no rejoinder, only a warm puff of air against the skin of his chest as Jon gives a snort. He does appear to think it over, though. After all, if they’re going to find girls they can pretend to court – which is the whole point of this conversation – anything that can help is welcome.

“All right,” says Jon finally. “What do we want to ‘say’, then?”

“Well, I was thinkin’ carnations, mostly. They’re supposed to be about, er, fascination, admiration, that sort of thing. The white ones are a symbol of innocence, I think.”

“Hm.”

Jon’s hand, which for the past few minutes was splayed on Tommy’s chest, shifts as he caresses the skin with the back of his fingers.

“We usually wear white carnations as boutonnières,” he points out with a small smirk that somehow manages to look thoroughly wicked. “How ‘innocent’ do you think that makes us?”

It’s Tommy’s turn to snigger. No amount of white carnations could make Jon look innocent. Even when he has neither said nor done anything reprehensible, he still gives the impression of being up to something.

“Not very. But that’s the thing about symbols – it’s all in the eye of the beholder, so to speak.”

“How very true.” Jon thinks for a bit, fingers still moving idly. “Look at green carnations. Sweet little flower, perfectly innocuous colour, but anyone who wears one at his lapel might get odd looks at best and probably a nasty encounter with the more savvy members of the constabulary at worst.”

“Why’s that?” asks Tommy, curious.

“Let me put it this way: if I were interested only in chaps and looking for a way to advertise that fact without, y’know, advertising it, I could resort to wearing a green carnation at my lapel.” Jon pauses, lays a kiss just under Tommy’s collarbone, and adds, “Of course I’d have to be a bit desperate, considering the risks.”

He raises his eyes to Tommy’s, smiling that little smile of his, almost a smirk if it weren’t for the warmth. His expression is clear: I’m glad I don’t have to.

So is Tommy. He’s just had a week to ponder the fact that he actually said “I love you” for the first time, and he doesn’t regret it now any more than he did then. And it seems that Jon, for all that he looks a little frayed around the edges sometimes since the beginning of the Christmas holidays, doesn’t regret saying it, either.

If pretending to flirt means he gets to keep what they have, then by God Tommy Ferguson is going to flirt.

* * * *

Of course, when the next day Jon disappears then reappears with a dozen carnations and a grin like the cat that got the cream, Tommy starts to have creeping doubts regarding this whole operation.

“Where did you get those?” he asks, suspicious.

“You told me you didn’t want me to put more money than you into this endeavour of ours, didn’t you? Well, good news! You don’t have to pay one bob.”

Tommy’s jaw drops.

“Jon, for God’s sake – did you steal those?”

“No, I did not.”

Tommy stares at Jon until he squirms just a little.

“I picked them,” he says pointedly. “There’s a difference. Stealing would imply they were someone else’s property.”

They probably were, but Tommy knows better than to ask. Except –

“Did anyone see you?”

“Who do you take me for, some bloody amateur?” says Jon, sounding scandalised. “The Parks are quite empty at seven in the morning. Besides, I was careful, you know – only picked one flower every three or four. Not even the Superintendent’s going to notice. Shall we go?”

Go they do, but eastwards, towards the Water Meadow. Tommy isn’t too keen on setting foot in the University Parks while the flowerbeds look like they’ve been pillaged, and Jon, in an uncharacteristic display of sense, isn’t in a hurry to show his face there.

Unfortunately, when at the end ofthe day they compare their respective tallies, it becomes obvious that something is not quite right. Not only they both failed to get a single name, let alone a rendezvous, but most of the girls who stopped long enough to look at the flowers they were offered strode off in a huff.

Which means that the flowers Jon picked (in other words, stole) wither and become quite unfit for gifts by the day after.

That evening, at hall, Tommy and Jon both stare glumly into their mushy peas.

“I don’t understand!” says Tommy at some point, fork clattering on the table. “What kind of girl doesn’t like being handed flowers?”

“The local kind, evidently,” Jon mutters into his palm. It’s terrible manners, propping your elbow on the table and your chin in your hand, but it’s informal hall and they’re too despondent to care.

‘Darling’ Darlington – one of the few first-years who stayed in college for the entire vacation – looks at them curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“We thought we’d take advantage of the holidays to find company of the female persuasion.” Jon doesn’t miss a beat. He doesn’t even take his chin off of his palm. “No offence to you chaps, but a man needs a bit of variety once in a while.”

This is said matter-of-factly, like a truth universally acknowledged. Meanwhile, Tommy feels Jon’s foot nudge his ankle under the table, and he grins into his glass.

Darling nods wisely.

“That’s only natural. I wish you the best fortune. But where do flowers come into it?”

“I thought we could use the ‘language of flowers’,” says Tommy, who is fully prepared to shoulder the blame for the apparent failure. “We got a bunch of carnations to give girls, to convey admiration and all that, but all we got was glared at.”

“I see.” Darling eats a bit of his beef, swallows, and asks, “And what colours were your carnations, if I may?”

“Yellow, mostly,” Jon replies. “Some had stripes. Why?”

The bark of laughter Darling lets out makes the whole table turn to look at them.

“Because,” Darling says with barely-restrained mirth, “yellow carnations convey disdain and rejection, and the striped ones mean refusal. You spent a day telling every girl you met that you despised them and couldn’t be with them.”

Tommy and Jon both open their eyes wide, stare at each other, and groan.

“Oh, bloody hell.”

“Which flowers should we have used, then?” asks Tommy just a little desperately.

Darling puts down his fork and counts off, still grinning, “Let me see… Pink roses for grace, gardenias for secret love, chrysanthemums for joy and optimism – only not the yellow ones, that’s ‘slighted love’…”

“I think I’ll stick to English to speak to girls after all,” says Jon flatly. “Fewer risks of misunderstandings that way.”

Darling’s eyes are twinkling in a way that says he’s finding their misadventure a lot funnier than they do, but at least he makes no further comment.

“Well,” says Tommy as they file out of the hall after dinner, “there goes my idea.”

“It wasn’t a bad idea,” Jon insists, which makes Tommy smile, because if he knows Jon at all at least half of that isn’t a lie. “The execution needed work, that’s all. Doesn’t mean we’re all that hopeless.”

“I know.” Tommy’s mind strays to the wilted carnations they’re going to have to get rid of somehow and he says, “No more stealing flowers to give to girls, though. We’ll find something else.”

Jon agrees, the matter is closed, and they’re off to the pub.

* * * *

A few days later, after the start of term, Tommy takes two minutes between class and a late morning shift at the Turf Tavern to drop into his hamper a few dirty collars, cuffs, and drawers he forgot in Jon’s room. Just as he’s about to run out, however, he notices his bed is slightly unmade.

Slightly, but in a very conspicuous way.

Tommy makes to fold the covers properly, but stills when he spots something that sticks out from under the pillow.

And laughs.

It’s a sheet of paper, folded in two, in which lie two flowers, neatly pressed: a gardenia and a green carnation.

Three hours later, at the end of his shift, Tommy is still smiling like an idiot.

__________

A boutonnière in English is the flower a man can wear at the lapel of his jacket. (In French it’s a buttonhole. *shrug*)

Oscar Wilde, trailblazer and trendsetter that he was, wore a green carnation on his lapel, and it became a symbol for gay men from the late Victorian age well into the 20th century.

I’ll work on your TF2 ASAP! :o)

#thatsoneginger #mon OT3 à moi #<3 #fanfiction #my stuff #ask reply #long post

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theangrypokemaniac · 5 years ago

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Contests Part 2/2

6. Loser Jessie

Screechy harpie Jessay has even more of a raw deal than Mavis and Dawn of the Dead.

From the outset I knew she'd never be champion, but she ought to rise above the tiresome berks clogging up procedure.

Sufficient popularity at Pokémon Towers ensured the girls were allotted coverage of all their award ceremonies. They had a moment in the sun.

What has Jessie in comparison?

I can't recall Hoenn, but I don't expect it was much.

Sinnoh however carried naught but a single paltry episode.

This for a main character.

This for someone there from the beginning.

This for an ardent fan favourite.

This for a wench who, should we include all her various mutations, has featured in more installments than either of 'em.

But no, treat Jesseee as worthless, even lower than Dawn's groupies. It's not like anyone watches it for her.

Looking back, it's obvious what they were intending to do come Unova.

What's the score then?

• One paltry Contest on screen.

• A couple happen elsewhere, marked by a few seconds per mention when the script oh-so generously moves away from the thrilling main plot.

It's gotta be the small-town concerns for Jessuhleenuh, nothing major. She deserves no better.

• One won by James, so not hers. Press her inadequacy upon us!

• One obtained as a gesture of pity from Kate Middleton.

And how did that work? What's the good of allowing 'Dawn' entry again?

She'd already qualified. If winning here, that gives her six, therefore there aren't enough Co-ordinators for the culmination.

And when Jessie showed up with a Ribbon recorded as belonging to Dawn, how was she taken as fulfilling the quota?

The slapdash way these Contests are run!

God forbid Jess should be shown as excelling at anything. It must be scraping into the final undeservedly.

Bitch gotta know her place.

7. Bumpkin Jessie

...

Ain't no description I can give that don't rhyme with 'hit', or variations of the theme.

You thought the shafting Jessica got coverage wise was bad enough? Yer ain't heard the 'alf of it.

Sinnoh was a period of peak Moron Team Rocket, where the one surprise was how stupid they could be.

You may remember an early episode when James designed her clothes for the catwalk. She thought it'd complement his work by applying lipstick all across her mug.

Obviously Jessie would do that, clueless as to how make-up functions.

Come on kids, she's thick!

Even at that numskull nadir it's difficult to comprehend anyone choosing this get up without severe duress.

Picture the scene: you debut on stage, before an audience of thousands and television cameras, in an event preoccupied with superficiality.

What do you wear?

• Giant, oversized glasses out of fashion since the Seventies.

• Bootlace tie last worn in the nineteenth century Wild West by a barman serving sarsaparillas.

• Colour scheme of brown and orange, the nation's favourite hues.

• A man's old shirt fraying at the cuffs.

• Voluminous apron dress.

• Massive yellow bows last seen decorating an Easter Egg. Always a winner.

• Heavy, clod-hopping boots.

• PIGTAILS!!!

Even the name is unattractive.

Ah yes, very common for those under six. Unheard of later.

You have reached puberty haven't yer Jessie? I can't tell anymore.

They couldn't get enough of that combination in Cosmo, which is why it's no longer in print.

Not only is Jessie denied success, she's deprived of the chance to be pretty in a realm where nothing but that carries weight.

Worse, given how her face disintegrated, this is the best she's been for five generations.

Yeah, because the inbred milkmaid style is such a good look, eh?

SEXAY!!!

8. So Long, Tsundere

Remember tsunderes? What happened to 'em?

The curse of Pokémon was draining the well of inspiration too quickly, throwing away interesting characters as mere guests.

This is particularly noticeable regarding the ladies. Back then, we got Misty, Jessie, Jessibelle, Cassidy, Aya, Giselle, Tyra, Sabrina, assorted crones Brutella, Nastina and Lacy, plus Joy, Jenny and Dame Ketchum provided parental authority.

How did a series that began with ball-breaking birds like that end up with insipid, glassy-eyed dullards like Zuhreena, Banana Lana, Marsh Mallow and Lilliput?

Ooh, Zuhreena is a pwincess!

Ooh, Banana Lana bwows big bwubbles!

Ooh, Marsh Mallow wuvs phallic waddishes!

Ooh, Lilliput won't pwet wanimals bwecause of Secwet Pain!

Can you imagine such weak specimens finding any place in the anarchic atmosphere of the classics?

It's SO boring!

Where's the punch? Where's the human spirit?

Where's the entertainment gone?

This squishy attitude began in Hoenn. Misty left, Jessie's hair symbolically changed from volcanic red to pink, and Contests introduced a cuddly theme where glitter glue and sequins are top priority.

Every sharp corner, every jagged point has been filed smooth. Now its substance hasn't the hardness to even develop edges, not when it's all cushions and candyfloss, where catching Pokémon rests on them deigning to grant permission, rather than 'avin it out.

Tsunderes, exuding untamed charisma and independence, besides a soupçon of danger, simply don't fit the cardboard box we habit now.

Nor do yanderes, kuuderes, tsuntsuns, or even derederes. It's just nothing but smiley-smiley creeps.

I wouldn't mind any of these tropes as long as there was some sign of colour to be had.

9. The Sacrifice of Misty

Misty bid farewell under the feeble justification that the lack of a longterm goal made her vulnerable to sacking.

Such a line uttered as if her own choice, being beyond them as writers to invent a purpose.

This implied her replacement would have an exciting quest aiming for excellence, something just beyond Misty's capabilities.

What did we get?

Dressing up and collecting Ribbons!

Is that...is that it? Is that the great idea? Is that all the girls are worth?

I lost Misty for THIS?!

Perhaps it makes no difference. By Hoenn they'd rendered her a leaden blandness sucked dry of all that made her special.

Going by the greasy-toothed bastardisation that swanned up in Alola, Misty was simply too wild for the safe, stifling atmosphere of today.

Her departure ensued she remains frozen as a funny, beloved presence, unlike those she left behind.

Now there was a lucky escape, as once the fanny-flapping starts, the bints have it on the brain.

May had Max to beat on the side, but Dawn developed monomania.

Hardly an episode went by without some reference to Contests, or how today's plot spurred her on to the next opportunity.

Yer need help, love!

Rather than Ash's new friend being a fascinating person who so happened to enter vanity projects, the competition defined them to the exclusion of life.

It is but moths drawn to the candle flame waiting to engulf them.

Contests are this world's version of Tom Riddle's diary: they promise sympathy and validation, but they eat your soul.

Like Tumblr.

10. Completely Unoriginal

Seems to me it wasn't so much Misty had no goal, it was more that Contests were the supposedly hot concept wedged into an existing property.

If earlier aspects failed to accommodate the invader, the onus certainly wasn't on the new kid to change. Oh no, stuff it in and chop off whatever gets in the way.

In the eyes of the post-Shudo regime, Misty was too volatile to last, and so had to go.

What idiots.

She's a tsundere. The softer, more feminine side is a defining component.

Would it really have been so problematic to retain her as an entrant? If Jessie can, why not?

Even if failing to fit, so what? Since when was established characterisation a barrier?

Isn't twisting likeable folk into unrecognisable pods the modus operandi of the writers?

That canon is immaterial, and must always give in to whatever fancy they currently have?

Well then, what's the big deal in infantilising Misty to promote it rather than pensioning her off?

Viewers will be more invested in the challenges awaiting a familiar face rather than a stranger.

What reduces the above to the risible is the original Misty and Jessie both participated in the Princess Festival.

All Contests are is that very scenario on repeat and robbed of all meaning.

Think about it:

• Beauty round

• Battle round

• Jessie loses

Same bloody thing.

Not only have I got to suffer this draining spectacle, it's got the nerve to possess not one iota of fresh ideas!

Contests are a low rent rip-off. The Princess Festival had a worthy reward in the shape of one-of-a-kind Dolls.

It'd already been revealed that ordinary Princess Dolls were ruinously expensive, therefore the special Pokémon edition have to be priceless.

What d'yer get for the trouble of a Contest but a bit of plastic tat taped to bargain basement frippery?

And they demand you get five of 'em!

Contests themselves were then resurrected as Showcases, although mercifully slimmed down to only three, with the emptiness ramped up in compensation.

Perhaps ironically, Princess Versus Princess is one of my favourite episodes. I love its critique of female avarice and accurate portrayal of clothing sales as reminiscent of the zombie apocalypse.

I don't mind the Festival as a single adventure, but I may have felt less favourable had it been a constant presence.

Except it isn't the competition at stake. This is a framework to explore Jessie and Misty as people.

Through its device we learn their history and therefore how they came to develop as the girls we know.

The setting serves as an opportunity for both to confront the misery and isolation of their childhoods, with the promise of overcoming that old torment with the balm of victory.

In the final, they aren't so much battling an opponent as fighting to be free of the past.

The tragedy is only one can be granted that reprieve. The other must remain unhappy in the ruins of memory.

It matters, unlike vapid Contests, where posturing is king. What depth can they provide in comparison?

Despite identical content, they are inverse counterparts, with the Festival presented as merely a light affair concealing a rather dark tale of neglect.

Contests however are paraded as this worthy nourishment for body and mind, a major point in one's journey towards enlightenment, when all they really amount to is an organ grinder and his monkey arsing about for the slack-gobbed plebs.

Bread and circuses.

Best of all, Misty won, not some side twat, as it should be.

Note how Jessie dressed: in delicate, vivid robes and golden decoration. The boys thought her beautiful.

Not as a gormless dweeb you'd cross the street to avoid!

And why the need to disguise herself anyway?

The Twerps had no issue with Jessie of Team Rocket joining the fun back then, so what happened?

At least she received the consolation of gaining Lickitung as a friend, with James and Meowth desperate to comfort her.

What do Contests bring? Sod all!

#pokémon #team rocket #contests #misty #jessie #kanto #princess versus princess

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abkdkzine · 6 years ago

Text

A Guide to Making Portfolios

Contributor applications are open, but I noticed that there’s a few people who may be confused or don’t know what certain parts of our guidelines mean. So, here’s a simple guide showing how to make a neat portfolio that obeys our instructions and requirements!

(I kind of refrained from making a bunch of lighthearted jokes or comments though, so I might’ve missed my chance on showing just how dorky I can get, haha!)

I’ll be covering both art portfolios and writing portfolios in this guide, but I also hope this helps out anyone who might need this sort of information in the future because this information doesn’t apply to just our zine! With that said, I’ll start with the very basics: getting to know cloud storage and sharing services, or in this case, Google!

Technically speaking, portfolios are basically any and all of the platforms you post your content into (like Tumblr, Instagram, DeviantArt, etc.). But, when you’re applying for something that requires you to show your works in a professional manner (such as in fanzines or IRL jobs), knowing how to organise your works can help you out in the long run!

Google is such a versatile platform which allows everyone to have access to all (if not almost all) of their organisational and work-related products! As such, if you have a Gmail account, you should also have this wonderful privilege. One of their products, Google Drive, lets you store your files and organise them any way you want them! There’s a little box icon on the top right of the browser which will reveal all of the products you can use too, so if you don’t know what they are, it’s a good idea to explore a bit on your own time.

Through Google Drive, you’ll be creating a folder which will serve as the place your files will be uploaded into. Keep in mind though that Google is not the only platform that offers cloud services! Dropbox is an example of another popular platform among others.

In this example, I’ll be referring to our zine’s contributor applications. Make a new folder in your Google Drive by clicking on that big ol’ “New” button, and use that button again to upload 3-8 of your works for our zine’s applications. Or, drag and drop files. It’s surprisingly fun to do and watch!

Be sure that your folder’s privacy settings is open! Just activate the folder’s shareable link (as in anyone with the link can have access to it), and it’ll let us look at all of your examples without trouble!

But, why do you want us to do this, you might ask?

Like I mentioned earlier, knowing how to organise your things helps you out in the long run! But in our case, if an applicant chooses to send us a form with a portfolio that doesn’t quite follow our requirements (such as putting an entire gallery or website with all their works)...

Well, it’s going to be an inconvenience to the moderators because there are going to be a lot of applications to go through within a limited time frame. We simply won’t have the time to look for your best works in a portfolio showcasing all of your pieces. We set a maximum limit of 8 examples for portfolios for that reason!

Any added works will not be considered in the examples, and any applications with galleries or websites sent to us as their portfolios will have a VERY low chance of being considered at all.

Instead, make that neat little folder shown previously and individually add the files you want to share! It won’t take up a lot of your time, I promise. That way, you can make sure you’ve chosen your most quality works, and we can review your application in a timely manner! This method is the most preferred way for us to receive portfolios.

Writers, if you are unfamiliar with Google Drive, this process can apply to you as well. Make a new folder, label it appropriately, and upload your files! Word documents can be transferred instantly, so fear not for your formatting – you’re in good hands. However, if you are concerned about it, I suggest that you take a look at Google Docs. You can copy and paste your works there instead, either all three written examples in one document or three separate documents in the folder.

Realistically, not following the rules sets a bad impression on the people reviewing your portfolio. We want to see your best work, and we want you to feel confident in your examples! If you show us that you can’t follow simple and easy tasks such as organising your works, then we’ll get the impression that you’ll do the same elsewhere. Regard this as though you are preparing for an actual job interview because this helps with your reputation as well.

So, what can I do to ensure my chances to be considered?

This is a section that is more for art than it is for writings; but here’s a general consensus for what kind of submissions or examples are expected and what is not expected!

A bad portfolio consists of little variety among the shown examples. If your examples are mostly made of your subjects in several different angles, that’s alright, but if there’s a lack of principles of art (such as rhythm, movement, proportion, variety, etc.) then the portfolio wouldn’t really be very interesting to the judges. Sketches, while some look nice, aren’t good examples because zines require complete pieces!

For written stories, the worst possible examples out of so much more that you can present in a portfolio are: bad understanding of characterisation (out-of-character factor), mediocre understanding of grammar (or unedited versions), and uninteresting.

A good portfolio shows a clear understanding of the elements and principles of art. There’s variety among the pieces which shows creativity and thought. Properties like different colour schemes, addition of environments, angles, and etc. are things that make portfolios interesting to look at.

For writing, having a good grasp of grammar, understanding of characters, and personal style are good indicators that your writing is well done and given some thought! In other words, it allows the readers to feel engaged with, which in turn makes it more interesting.

But, most of all:

Your pieces have to be related to the zine’s theme! It’s different for every zine, of course, but generally, application reviewers look to see if the applicant is genuine about liking the concept(s) behind their projects, and that the applicant can portray or illustrate the subjects of the zine well with the skills presented among the examples.

Wanderlust revolves exclusively around BakuDeku, and so, seeing examples with both of them featured in your works will guarantee you, one-hundred percent, a spot for consideration.

Sounds good to me! But, can you clarify what to avoid?

As previously suggested, guidelines are made to make sure the reviewing process goes as smoothly as possible for the moderators or judges. I’ll be using our own guidelines for this example as well!

Since many zines like to request for a number of linked examples in their forms for their portfolios, we understand that it might be a force of habit or something that some people may consider easy to do. But, I’ll say this once again: we require prospective contributors to create their portfolios through a shared folder (lots of cloud services exist!) because it saves us, the moderators, a lot of time from copying and pasting every single link!

When you show us your social media links, don’t do it like this:

Tumblr: @ariririsu

Twitter: @ariririsu

Give us the actual links to your platforms! This also saves us a lot of time instead of typing it down. We would be ever so grateful and happy if you do this.

Keep your examples up to date! We don’t want to see what you could do back then. We want to see what you can offer us now. It’s like selling a bunch of pastries at a bake sale, but you’re selling us pastries made two years ago. Your most recent works gives us the most accurate and best representation of your skills.

Once again, incomplete sketches or written drafts are no-no’s. If you want to know what I’m talking about when I mentioned the principles and elements of art, here’s a neat little roster that breaks down what makes compositions in artworks more three-dimensional and interesting.

Going over the specified number of examples will not affect your chances of being accepted in the zine. So, if you add two or three more works in your portfolio, rest assured that we will not even look at them. For the same reason I mentioned beforehand: there is going to be a lot of applicants, and we want to get the reviewing process done as soon as possible to maintain our schedule. Less mess, less stress.

Some Pieces of Advice:

Have some confidence in your works! If you feel super shy and you’re still building up that confidence, the judges would be more than happy to supply you with feedback if you ask for it. Their feedback will not be destructive, but it will be meant to help you improve your skills. Take whatever advice they give you and at least put them into consideration too!

Zines and other huge projects like these take a lot of your time. One thing that I’ve seen people commonly do is that they miscalculate the amount of time and commitment they can put into these projects, and they often have to leave them. Doing so will negatively affect your reputation. So, when you’re not sure if you can dedicate a lot of time to the zine, we highly suggest that you don’t apply to keep the game fair to others who want to be in the zine as well.

Communication is VERY important in these projects. Never ever disappear on the projects without saying something because it’s going to cause the moderators to have to find ways to contact you and be very worried if something happened to cause the sudden disappearance. Like the previous point, doing so will negatively affect your reputation.

Just so you know, you’ve got time to make your portfolios if you don’t have enough examples! You can literally apply at the last minute and it would still count!

Again, be sure that your Google Drive folder’s settings are shared to those who has the link!

And with that, I hope I was able to make a nice guide which emphasises certain rules in our own zine guidelines as well as how to make a good portfolio! I’m not sure if there are other guides like these around, but I hope I got a bunch of general zine rules correct.

We look forward to seeing your applications! Our zine applications close on January 12, and we can’t wait to see what you have in store for us!

#bkdk #bakudeku #katsudeku #zines #anime zine #wanderlust bkdk zine #bkdk zine #update #contributor apps #mod ari speaks #mod maj speaks #guide

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ajoraverse · 5 years ago

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This is an excerpt from the other thing I’ve been working on and can’t post yet because I intend to illustrate it. Faris/Lenna, long-established relationship between people who absolutely should not be in said relationship, mentions of sexytimes but I’ve cut the worst of it out for posting to tumblr. Follow-up to A Criminal Enterprise.

Friendly reminder, too, that Faris is a known criminal and elected leader of hundreds of pirates and other ne’er-do-wells for five years before the game and, in her introduction in the game, actually kidnaps and holds the party for ransom until she decides to help them.

Warning for inc*st between consenting adults who did not grow up together, mentions of gender dysphoria with a technically nonbinary character who is afab and then forced by circumstances to live as a boy for 15 years on ships where women were forbidden, and a bit of playfulness that would be really, really disconcerting in the blatant-abuse-of-power way if they weren’t technically equals in the eye of the law. As is, it’s still a bit dodgy, but Lenna is such a sweetheart that she would never.

(Context note: In a mad dash to cope with the loss of Galuf and the crystals to ExDeath, and deal with their own messy feelings, Faris and Lenna jumped the gun and went and got married in Moore just after the events in A Criminal Enterprise In secret and under assumed names, of course. This is 15 years later.)

Lenna's grip on Faris eases as she relaxes in the afterglow and watches her clean up with all the satiation of her own dragon after a good meal. She looks like she wants to curl up and go to sleep, but Faris knows her crafty little sister well enough to know she'll want her turn at topping as soon as she's recovered. Faris stays where she is, on her elbows and knees over her wife, because one of those things Lenna never seems to tire of is this closeness of theirs.

Soft, warm lips brush over Faris' moments later as Lenna's arms hold her close again. It's not a kiss, not quite. "I love you so much," Lenna's voice is little more than a whisper.

"Love you, too." In emphasis, Faris closes what little distance remains between their lips. The kiss starts as warm and flares to a driving heat so quickly that it might have made her head spin. She's aware, vaguely, that Lenna's hands trail down her back before leaving her entirely to do... whatever. Her focus is more on the depth of the kiss and the way Lenna knows just how to respond to her motions in just the right way to revive her arousal.

The delicate hands of a queen grasp at Faris' shoulders, and she can feel Lenna squirming beneath her. Not that she minds, for Lenna always feels fantastic rubbing up against her like that.

Then, suddenly, the world goes awhirl as Lenna somehow manages to roll her off and climb on top of her. Before Faris can even fully register it, Lenna grabs her wrists, yanks them up over her head, and wraps them up in a length of...wait, is that the fuckin' girdle?! The little minx, she'd planned this. Faris can't help it, her face splits into a broad grin of delight. Somehow or another, Lenna always manages to surprise her.

"Like that, Captain?" There's more than a bit of impishness in Lenna's fond smile as she straddles her sister. Lenna is such a lovely figure in her glittering jewels and sitting on Faris' hips like this that her mouth feels dry.

It takes Faris a moment to gather herself. Lenna's fingers rest at her belt buckle, an unvoiced question in the way they almost curl around it. Faris' moods regarding her own nakedness are fickle at best--sometimes she doesn't mind it, sometimes she likes it because Lenna does, sometimes she hates it and can't figure out why. And before Lenna, it hadn't been an issue because her past conquests were content with taking and not reciprocating. But it's her Lenna wants, completely, chronic gender confusion and all. Faris wonders sometimes what the hell she did to deserve Lenna's love and devotion.

She nods once. Just enough for that sweet little smile of gratitude to light up Lenna's face and tug at Faris' heart.

Those nimble, skilled fingers unbuckle her belt with a fluid quickness that comes from long practice and puts it aside. They tease along the buttons of her greatcoat before slipping them under their eyes, and Lenna does it at a languid pace that's more about committing all this to memory than the wicked teasing that Faris likes to do.

Lenna's eyes as she daintily pries open Faris' clothes are so tender and wanting that Faris is sure she deserves none of it. Rather than be repulsed by old battle scars, Lenna traces them. Rather than be disgusted by the muscle Faris has been putting on since her access to decent food became a nonissue, Lenna admires them and fondles them in a way that makes Faris forget entirely about the mess in her head. Rather than be frustrated when Faris' chest-binding for too long results in her breasts being too tender or too numb, Lenna watches the way Faris reacts to her touch and proceeds when she's sure she's not causing any pain.

"It's okay," Faris whispers as Lenna's fingers hover hesitantly over her chest. "Didn't do much binding today. I'm good."

Rather than respond verbally, Lenna gives her that wry little smile she makes when she's trying not to be selfish and failing. It's refreshing to see, if just because Lenna tries so hard to live up to her flawless virgin front that she feels like she can only be herself around Faris and their friends. The way Lenna's hands fondle and squeeze against what muscles she does have is downright possessive, and Faris is glad she gets to be the only one Lenna shows that side of herself to.

With a wicked chuckle, Faris tightens her abs right under Lenna's hands. It makes Lenna lose control of that smile of hers and her eyes might have twinkled. "Naughty girl," she says under her breath, in a tone that's something on the order of fondness lightly sprinkled with amusement. "If I'd known you liked that, I might've tried working harder earlier on."

"Me, naughty?" Lenna tries to play the innocent, but the attempt fails in light of the way her hands caress along Faris' sides. "I'm not the criminal here."

Faris can't help it; she laughs. Softly, of course; she's always conscious of the guards posted outside the door. Part of it is the clash of the Lenna she knows against her public figure, which is just as hilarious now as it was when Lenna proclaimed herself the Virgin Queen of Tycoon at her coronation. Part of it is that they are terrible at play-acting in bed, and she knows where this is going. Still, she's happy to go along. "And what would Your Majesty's subjects think of you detaining a criminal in your bed?"

"Why, they might thank me." Lenna's eyes dance with poorly-suppressed mirth. "Don't think I haven't kept track, sister dear. I have entire files on your activities."

Only the fact that Faris knows that nothing comes of it but a bit of play makes her so willing to go along with this. She'd balk otherwise. "Do you?"

"Arson, six counts," Lenna begins lightly, her fingers tracing along Faris' scars in a way that's much more loving than the playfulness she expects. "Bribery, fifteen counts. Burglary, thirty-seven. Extortion, eighteen. Fraud, various, twenty-three. Piracy, forty-seven. Smuggling, forty-two. Theft, various, sixty-eight. And that's just the crimes against property. Let's not forget assault and battery, intimidation, kidnapping, false imprisonment...the list does get exhaustive. My goodness, Faris, you've been busy."

Well, Lenna's numbers might be a bit low, but far be it for Faris to correct her. Still, she'll have to commend Lenna's spies on their thoroughness. Her smile softens as she reaches between them to skim her knuckles lightly against the silken smoothness of Lenna's inner thigh. It's a bit tricky, what with her wrists being bound together. "Don't forget this."

"Uncountable." Lenna shifts on her knees in a way that reminds her that she'll have to take the trousers with her. The heat radiating from her sister makes her sorely tempted to take charge again. But, this is Lenna's turn. That it happens so quickly does make Faris wonder if this sin of theirs has become another of Lenna's guilty pleasures. "Fifteen years' worth."

"And decades more, if I've anything to say about it." Faris' voice might have gotten a little husky--she seldom apologized for anything, and certainly never anything done out of need, but she'll never feel guilty or apologize for this. Not when Lenna is such an enthusiastic partner in crime.

"See? You're incorrigible," Lenna says teasingly. "The only solution is to keep you tied up nice and safe in bed. It's for the public good."

"Just the public good?" Faris jerks her hips up enough to bounce Lenna a little. The delighted "oooh" and a light giggle are awfully gratifying. "What's my sentence, my Queen?"

The neatly-trimmed nails drum lightly on Faris' midriff as Lenna makes a show of thinking on the matter. "Normally the sentence for such an extensive history is life in prison, but I could be convinced to commute it to, oh, a few years of time in my bed."

Faris never actually worries, of course. Part of the reward for saving the world, and the privilege of being the long-lost princess, was having her past records officially expunged. At least in Tycoon. There's probably still a warrant out for her arrest in Jacole. "And how might I do that?"

"I want you to come for me, dear heart." Lenna's hands settle over hers. Probably as much to keep her from going straight for her treasure as it is to reassure her. "You're always so giving. I love that you are, but I want to please you, too."

Admittedly, it took Faris a long time to get used to being vulnerable around anyone. Longer still to let her eager little sister reciprocate without second-guessing herself or feeling inordinately self-conscious, and the only reason it hadn't taken even longer was because Lenna is just as stubborn as she is and a hell of a lot gentler about it. It helped, too, that Lenna never makes it about how "gorgeous" Faris is; all she ever seems to want is to love Faris back.

With a sigh, Faris mentally kicks that selfish little bit of her that would rather not give in to Lenna's desire for her just because some crotchety old pirates messed up her head about genders and forced her to be a boy when she was a kid. At least it's a lot quieter now than it used to be. She eases back into Lenna's too-comfortable bed and manages a hint of a smile. "I'll need some help with my trousers. Seems I'm a tad tied up at the moment."

Despite Lenna's attempt to bite back the snort of amusement, it comes out anyway.

#farilenna

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dracox-serdriel · 6 years ago

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Tumblr Horror

If you want to skip this post, tap the ‘J’ key to jump to the next one. You can also tap the ‘K’ key to jump to the previous post.

(Note: This post contains spoilers for content from various media of the X-Files, Hannibal the TV show, and Grimm.)

I’ve had this blog for years. I started off (a long, long time ago) on LiveJournal, and moved to Tumblr when I realized the platform had more interactive functionality for building online communities and general dialog, which made the site very appealing.

The lack of censorship for public posts with so-called “adult themes” was also highly appealing to me because my favorite genre is horror. When sites start to censor “offensive” content, horror is always on that list. If it’s not directly stated as “offensive material,” then the ever-widening gray area of censorship swallows it up bit by bit.

Want an example? Here’s a post from earlier this year where Tumblr expands its content restrictions. I don’t remember hearing much uproar about these new restrictions... and at first glance, it seems to focused on things like hate speech and threats of violence. Yet take a good look at this excerpt:

Don't post content which includes violent threats toward individuals or groups - this includes threats of theft, property damage, or financial harm. Don’t post violent content or gore just to be shocking. Don’t showcase the mutilation or torture of human beings, animals (including bestiality), or their remains. Don’t post content that encourages or incites violence, or glorifies acts of violence or the perpetrators.

One could argue that horror doesn’t have violence or gore “just to be shocking,” but it’s also 100% possible to argue that horror does exactly that, particularly horror subgenres like slasher, splatter, and torture (just to name a few), but it also impacts pretty much everything under the horror umbrella.

It also puts a lot of things that aren’t considered under the horror umbrella but are... horror-adjacent. For example, dramas about serial or spree killers, including procedural dramas like Mind Hunters and Criminal Minds, as well as true crime based on them.

Where does the line fall here, exactly? If I had tons of posts about how cool fictional character George Foyet (aka The Reaper) is, does that qualify as “glorifying” acts of violence? If I had tons of posts about the character’s crimes, complete with screenshots from the show and maybe a few fan illustrations to fill in the gaps, would that qualify as “glorifying” acts of violence? Would it qualify as “showcasing the mutilation or torture of human beings”?

Let’s move away from the spree and serial killers for a second. Let’s assume that Tumblr views anything other than their mug shots qualify as “offensive” or “adult” content, despite the popularity of shows/fiction/general content.

What about shows like the X-Files? In the second movie, X-Files: I Want to Believe, there’s a two-headed dog that exists by way of unethical science experiments. It’s also killed in self-defense by a main character. Animal mutilation and torture? Check! There are countless episodes that focus on illegal human experimentation by the government, including the discovery of mass graves (02x25 Anasazi), testing infectious diseases on prison inmates (02x22 F. Emasculata), TV-induced mind control (03x23 Wetwired), and stealing/experimenting on human embryos (05x08 Emily). And that’s just a few of the things perpetrated by the government. That’s not including the town of cannibals (02x24 Our Town) or the more selective cannibals, like the guy who killed people for their fat (03x06 2Shy), the guy who ate people’s brains (07x03 Hungry), or the guy who drained melanin (04x03 Teliko). Don’t forget the demon who slaughters people - including having one eaten by a giant snake (02x14 Die Hand die Verletzt), weaponized bacteria-turned-killing-machines (05x18 The Pine Bluff Variant), and even a crocodile (03x22 Quagmire), which is an episode where both a beloved pet dog (RIP Queequeg) gets eaten and a crocodile is shot and killed.

Then there’s shows like Grimm, which has plenty of violence with the added bonus of the mythology of the show blurring the human/animal line. It’s got everything from the main character mailing two decapitated heads to Jack the Ripper possessing a main character to continue his killing spree. And that’s the “mostly human” violence... let’s not forget the animal-like violence from wesen characters fighting each other with tooth, claw, venom, etc.

I probably shouldn’t even touch the TV show Hannibal, even though it handles violence so beautifully and in such a creative way. It still contains tons of gore, violence, psychological manipulation/trauma/abuse, and, of course, cannibalism. One could easily argue that many of the crime scenes depicted on the show are “just to be shocking,” such as the totem pole of bodies (01x09 Trou Normand), people disfigured to look like “angels” (01x06 Coquilles), and people who have been savaged by what appears to be “some kind of animal attack” (02x09 Shiizakana), and people who are still alive despite being sewn into a giant corpse mural (02x02 Sakizuki) or having part of their brain removed to accommodate a beehive (02x03 Takiawase).

Now, before we get much further, there’s this question that people always ask that I know I’ll need to answer. So let’s get it out of the way.

What’s the point of horror?

When it comes to most genres, people who don’t like a certain genre often regard it as “boring” or “hard to follow” or, well, just not their cup of tea. But for a genre like horror, people who don’t like it often regard it as “gross,” repulsive, or maybe just plain cheesy (depending on what’s being discussed).

For example, a person who doesn’t like historical documentaries will almost never describe them as “offensive” or “gross”; whereas, many people who don’t like horror describe their dislike in exactly those terms (e.g., “that’s gross!” or “all that violence offends me!”).

I understand the response. My point here isn’t to criticize the responses of others when it comes to horror - there’s nothing wrong with being grossed out by a slasher flick. My point is that many people don’t simply dislike the content - they’re offended by it. There’s also a strong general tendency (regardless of personal opinion) to draw assumptions about the people who like “offensive” content (including porn-level sexual content).

For example, people who like horror “like” to be scared... that the unrealism of horror (meaning, the fact that it’s fiction - or a fiction-ified version of a story) gives us the distance we need to enjoy and process the gore/violence/other elements of horror.

I can’t speak to why anyone besides than myself likes horror, but look at how the topic is written about and even studied. Type “why people like horror” into a search engine. Open another tab and type “why people like comedy” into that same search engine. Compare the articles from the top results. For me, most of the horror results are from psychology or psychology insight sites; whereas, the comedy results have less technical papers and more, well... humor. There’s only 1 article about people who don’t like comedy (framed as a joke), compared to over half the horror results also mentioning people who dislike/hate horror.

This small example can show you how different the conversations about horror are from comedy. But feel free to compare other genres - documentaries, for example - and you’ll see a very similar trend in terms of contrast. Keep in mind that many documentaries include plenty of disturbing content, such as the details of war crimes.

So, when it comes to horror, conversations tend to be polarized. It’s reasonable to classify most horror as “adult” content because, yes, it often includes gore, violence, murder, etc. But people will often brand horror-related material as “offensive” and will sometimes even argue that it “encourages violence” or “glorifies violence,” especially for horror materials that defy traditionally codified aspects of horror (e.g., movies or stories that don’t contain “poetic justice” or the antagonists being caught/stopped/punished).

So... what’s the point of horror? The question is annoying because there’s a ton of answers - and of course, it varies by person - but it’s also annoying because people often ask it to support the idea that horror is superfluous and/or gratuitous (aka “just for shock”). Much of modern censorship focus on “the gratuitous” - if the violence is “important to the story,” then it passes muster. If not - or if there’s just too dang much of it - it’s described as “gratuitous” (and thereafter, often censored). Sometimes, the act of answering the question “what’s the point of horror?” in a way plays into this kind of censorship... because it operates on the idea that you need a reason/a point for horror for it to be valid.

Related questions: Does viewing violence “inspire” or “encourage” it? Doesn’t seeing so much violence desensitize us? Even if a catharsis - a release - is experienced, doesn’t horror doing more harm than good?

Returning to the new content restrictions, check out the post A better, more positive Tumblr:

Over the past several months, and inspired by our storied past, we’ve given serious thought to who we want to be to our community moving forward and have been hard at work laying the foundation for a better Tumblr.

...

We spent considerable time weighing the pros and cons of expression in the community that includes adult content. In doing so, it became clear that without this content we have the opportunity to create a place where more people feel comfortable expressing themselves.

Bottom line: There are no shortage of sites on the internet that feature adult content. We will leave it to them and focus our efforts on creating the most welcoming environment possible for our community.

(emphasis mine)

I had been holding out hope that horror would not fall into the “offensive adult material” gray area on Tumblr, but if these changes are actually about creating “the most welcoming environment,” then horror is definitely on the chopping block, regardless of whether or not it has sexual content.

After all, plenty of people view horror as gratuitous and/or “offensive” and/or gross. Which means horror posts are (and will continue to be) reported as abuse/bad content.

Tumblr is saying that sexual content (which people could choose to ignore and choose to block with a number of tools) is being banned because its inclusion has an “unwelcoming” or “uncomfortable” affect on the community of this platform, that’s ultimately rooted in the fact that Tumblr sees sexual content as gratuitous. This is backed up by the fact that, despite the popularity of adult content on this platform, Tumblr believes that cutting that content out will have more positive affects than negative ones.

I haven’t found solid numbers on how many people like horror, but a lot of sources suggest that approximate 1/3 of the population has an inclination toward horror, but nearly 2/3 of the population dislikes horror... Even if these numbers aren’t entirely on-target, I feel confident in arguing that, statistically, more people like sexual content/porn than horror.

If cutting objectionable (yet popular) material will benefit Tumblr, I doubt they’d worry much about cutting objectionable and fairly unpopular material.

To be clear: for the moment, I’m not going anywhere.

But I have a feeling that many of the things I use Tumblr for will soon be gone and/or fall under the constant eye of censorship scrutiny. From my experience, this results in content drying up (why post material to a platform you have to battle to keep it live and public?).

According to Tumblr, there are a lot of sites that “feature adult content,” which means relocating shoudn’t be a big deal, though I’m not sure if this applies to other similar platforms. But, of course, it is a big deal. And it’s a pain.

Exporting content to sucks pretty much all the time, regardless of where you’re going. Especially for those of us who’ve accumulated thousands and thousands of posts over the years. Sure, if I export it from Tumblr, I’ll have a record... but all those records will point to Tumblr URLs - many of which will be defunct in two weeks because “private” posting will be engaged, making the URL no longer visible/accessible. That’s not even talking about all the defunct blogs that will be dotting my dashboard and posts because the users have moved on...

#tumblr #horror #woes #yes I'm pouting deal with it

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