#The dramatic British people would also be upset

[rappaccini]

k third viewing and a notepad yielded a lot of thoughts re: remmick, musical motifs, the songs he's associated with and what they say about his character and the greater themes sinners uses him to explore: white saviorism, appropriation and assimilation, and how allyship and solidarity are often fleeting in the face of systemic pressure.

first of all, goransson establishes the vampire motif with the booming electric guitar, choir and bell. it always announces the presence of a vampire, from remmick revealing himself at the farm to mary getting caught to stack running out of the juke. it's dramatic, it's ominous, it's anachronistic (the electric guitar was invented in 1932, the year the movie takes place, and definitely didn't make it to rural mississippi yet), it's ancient, it has elements often seen in christian church music like an organ because of the colonization metaphor, and the feeling of religious ecstacy the vampires feel from being free of death and intimately connected to each others' memories and feelings.

but three other songs are associated with him: the rocky road to dublin, wild mountain thyme (called will ye go lassie, go? in the soundtrack), and pick poor robin clean.

the first glimpses of duality

the very first time we hear the rocky road to dublin is in annie's opening monologue about the filidh, the firekeepers and the griot. before we even hear the vampire motif, it's the human one, about being forced to leave home to escape hardship, and finding others who've been through the same (...and it isn't remmick’s voice, because he isn't a fili).

when remmick’s trying to enter the shack, the first sting of rocky road to dublin plays; it immediately identifies him as an irishman, and portrays him in a vulnerable and lonely light... as he is telling the sharecroppers about how he tried to approach the choctaw and they drove him away.

for context: the choctaw gifted the irish during their famine as a show of solidarity, and the famine is what sent most of the irish population modern irish-americans descend from to america. remmick is a gaelic pagan who is old enough to remember being colonized by the british, forced to convert to christianity, and he has coins from the middle ages at the latest. so he was definitely around when this gift was given in the 1850s. then after he migrated to america, he made his way south, and probably approached the choctaw to begin with because he would have remembered the solidarity they offered his people.

he probably did the exact same thing he did at the juke joint: was drawn to them by a fire-keeper, tried to offer them his 'gift' of immortality, and was driven out.

his nature is twofold: he cannot help but try to consume and assimilate people, because he can't change his nature as a vampire. but he also can't change his nature as a person: he keeps reaching out to people, asking them to let him into their family.

the movie literally defines vampires as creatures whose souls are trapped in their bodies. their souls by definition cannot be divorced from their monstrosity. they are not soulless, and they do keep their human desires, motivations and personalities. that's the scariest thing about them: that they do care, it isn't enough to change anything, and yet it still matters.

so honestly? he's probably not lying about how upset he is that the choctaw are hunting him. doesn't change that he definitely has it coming, or that he's playing 'vulnerable white man beset by savages' to get inside. still matters.

every time the rocky road motif plays in the film, it's when remmick is being sincere and his humanity is on display. it's the inverse of whenever we hear the heavy metal guitars of his vampire theme, which signal to us when he's being monstrous.

and we keep hearing those motifs close together throughout the movie because both sides of him are entwined.

when he first approaches the juke joint, the vampire motif closes out sammie's i lied to you performance... but when remmick gets to the front door to ask to enter, it's rocky road to dublin again.

the duality kicks in as he seeks to enter a community again-- he's here to change sammie and consume his talent. but the reason he's doing it is that through sammie, he has a chance at seeing his own people again.

this is the moment the story becomes a tragedy and it is all his fault. the ball's in his court and he's going to drop it.

because here's the thing: remmick does share a lot of similar experiences with the jukegoers. he does have empathy for them. he does understand the threat they're facing.

but he's going to blow any chance at creating true solidarity with them because he wants to insert himself into their group and be treated like a savior more than he wants to protect them by dealing with the existential threat coming to kill them all-- including him.

if remmick hadn't shown up at all or just kept walking, the klan would have killed everyone in the morning. even if smoke and stack shot them like they intended to, they would've regrouped and violently punished clarksdale's entire black population in retaliation. "if only the vampire never came at all everything would have been great" is a nice thought and i get why people are saying it... but it's simply not the reality they were dealing with.

if remmick had changed everyone (he wouldn't have; see: annie), the only place they could hide during the day together is the sawmill. which the klan was going to raid the very next morning. and if the kkk found a mostly-black integrated community of people who don't die when they're shot and are strong enough to threaten them, they would never have let them go even if remmick, bert and joanie were there. the klan would have burned the whole thing down and the vampires would have been trapped there because the sun's out.

if he only changed some of them, the plot of the movie ensues: the solidarity splinters, the marginalized people all turn on one another, and they kill each other before the klan even shows up.

the only way for everyone to walk out of this story alive is if the vampire does show up, but he respects their boundaries, approaches them with honesty about the klan coming to kill them in the morning, and offers to help them on their terms (he has the power to help them handle the klan without facing retribution not because he's a vampire-- because he's a white man). everyone could have left with their lives, the threat breathing down everyone's necks could have been warded off at no risk to the people most vulnerable to it, and remmick could have gained the trust of the community he's searching for. the entire tragedy could have been averted.

what i'm getting at is: the onus of destroying white supremacy is on white people but too often white people choose to let it remain intact so they can present themselves as a solution to it (while still reaping its benefits) rather than lose the privileges it does provide them.

that is what remmick is about to do. that is why this story is a tragedy.

the actual most racist song in the movie

pick poor robin clean is that duality rolled into a single song.

a vampire masking his violent intentions with a polite request to enter a safe place is represented metaphorically in the menace under a layer of goofy show music.

the performance is awkward and a little bit creepy because remmick can't hide how unnatural this music is to him, or how dishonest his intention is. he can't even keep his accent straight.

this is a song remmick probably appropriated from the kkkouple. it's an american folk song with roots in blues music (so, it would've been originally performed by black people) that was likely played in minstrel shows (yeah uh he dodged that second verse for a reason).

this song would have been appropriated by white people, for other white people, with the intention of humiliating black people for entertainment. sanitizing it cannot remove it from that context.

no wonder the juke joint was immediately repulsed by his act. except stack 🤡.

if anything, editing out the slurs but choosing to still perform it anyway shows that remmick does know what the problem with it is, but he still refuses to let go of it.

it's the same as scrubbing the racism out of the kkkouple, but still turning up to the juke with them anyway. remmick thinks he's special enough to be the exception, and to make anything racist he touches magically okay because of his influence, but that arrogance means he absolutely isn't.

he's a white guy who's more interested in performing allyship to gain access to a black space than being a genuine ally. that is what's happening here.

and that is why the whole thing's off the rails after this point. he wants to be a white savior so bad he'd rather let everyone (including himself) die than do something he won't benefit from and risk not being centered in the community he wants to join.

he wants them to be part of his community but he isn’t considering how he could be part of theirs.

and in context... he's here to "pick [sammie] clean" of his humanity.

but if he can't get sammie he'll still "be satisfied having a family."

(the original lyric is "having your family." even creepier.)

... and who does annie call "family" in that same scene? who does remmick immediately notice is the odd one out of the group? who comes out to talk to them? mary.

the first time he's completely sincere

when mary goes outside to talk to the vampires, she finds them playing wild mountain thyme.

this is the oldest song in the movie-- first written down in 1957 but with its origins dating back to the british isles in the 1820s. the only person who could possibly know this song is remmick. he brought it from home, and he's feeding it to the others through the hivemind.

it's a song that typically changes gender from "lassie" to "laddie" depending on whether men or women sing it-- but joan doesn't adjust the lyrics because when mary approaches, they're singing specifically to her, to get her to come to them so they can change her.

though it should be pointed out: they were singing before they even saw her. they were doing this for themselves. then they adjusted when they saw her coming.

it's a love song, asking the subject if they're going to pick wild mountain thyme-- an herb often worn at the time the song was written to attract a suitor-- and if the singer can accompany them.

the exact intent varies: is the singer simply offering companionship as they work on a shared goal, or saying they want to be the suitor and are checking if the subject's in a romantic mood? (and to a vampire, whose desire is all-consuming, is there a difference?)

and what's mary doing? trying to attract stack and prove her worth to him by approaching them in the first place.

the second verse is the singer telling the subject he'll give her all the flowers on the mountain. he is literally promising her all the love that's possible to give. and when mary turns, remmick will pour his consciousness into her, giving her all of himself.

and what's mary dealing with? a suitor who won't give her anything because he doesn't think he has anything to give, when all she wants is him.

(there are two more verses not in the film, but still on the soundtrack. they're here for a reason:)

the third verse: a promise that the singer will travel far, but always return with those flowers.

... and what was mary angry about just a few hours ago? smoke and stack traveling far away, and never sending flowers to her mother's funeral.

the fourth: "if my true love, she won't come / then i'll surely find another." sung by remmick, who wants to bring back his lost loved ones. who has been wearing a wedding ring since he first appeared. he references having had a wife to the kkkouple and lied about her being hurt by the choctaw to gain their sympathy... but was he lying about being married? did he loot the ring from a past victim? or was he married once, a long time ago? could his wife be one of the people he's desperate to see again?

(the final refrain does make it into the film:)

"we'll all go together" -- that promise of companionship. you're looking for love? so are we. let's look for it (and find it) together. through the vampire hivemind.

and mary wanted to leave with stack to be with him, but was denied the choice. she wanted to stay with the black community, but they pushed her away as she grew up. all she wants is for the people she loves to never leave her.

of course she sits down.

it's the first time remmick gets one of the jukegoers to listen to and appreciate him-- not by flashing money to get into a space that isn't meant for him, and waiting for a pat on the head for scribbling a slur out of the lyrics, insisting he doesn't see color and that he's One Of The Good Ones and that his racist friends are cool, actually. by playing something authentic to where he comes from, that speaks to a true desire of his.

there's a softness and sincerity to the performance that's completely missing in pick poor robin clean. that one was a stilted, uncomfortable routine because he didn't mean it. now he does.

shouldn’t be a surprise that another sting of the rocky road to dublin springs up right after, when mary and remmick reminisce about loss. the death of mary's mother means she has no familial link to clarksdale's black population anymore, so as far as she knows, once she gets on that train, she's never coming back and will live severed from her home and culture forever, unable to reach the people she loves ever again. he knows how that feels.

what he's offering mary is genuine and comes from the deepest part of himself. it also isn't enough.

the rocky road to dublin.

when rocky road to dublin finally plays in its full glory, finally sung out loud with full orchestral accompaniment and a dance circle, we see remmick at the height of his power.

and there is a Lot going on here that people are missing. this scene begins as one thing and ends as something entirely different. there's a whole narrative arc going on during this dance.

yes, he's having a group of almost entirely black people he changed against their will performing a song and dance relevant to his culture, with himself at the center. metaphorically, he's a white guy who lost his culture to assimilation centuries ago, who's been trying to recreate that connection by inserting himself into a black culture and using them to replicate his. and this is the moment he gets to do it.

yes, it's supposed to be a dark mirror to sammie's performance.

and i'm not gonna exclude people's readings of the scene as intended to resemble a kkk cross burning from afar, or a black mass. that was definitely on the creatives' minds and the former would absolutely be what smoke and sammie are thinking of when they see them from the doorway.

but even then, it's more complicated than that.

the rocky road to dublin is an irish ballad from the mid-1800s, which would've been the time of the potato famine, and when remmick would have likely traveled to america.

the song is about an irishman reluctantly leaving home to seek wealth, arriving in liverpool, an english city that was a port many irishmen passed through, being greeted with prejudice by the english, and being defended by other irishmen who made the same journey. it's a song about the struggles the irish people faced, that's also about the resilience and community one finds through enduring hardship together.

this is an experience shared by the black characters, particularly mary, smoke and stack: leaving home to seek wealth and better fortunes in arkansas and chicago, only to find more racism, which ultimately led them back to each other. remmick is relating to them on their terms again and mary and stack love it.

the number starts slow and sad, with remmick singing alone, reflecting how he's lived for centuries. the emotion in his voice is genuine: his yearning for a home he can never reach is palpable.

it's also when his irish accent is clearest (apart from when he's 'baptizing' sammie at the end). he's fully shaking off his cover of being a southerner from north carolina-- which was flimsy to begin with-- and loudly and proudly claiming an identity we later learn he was once abused and marginalized for.

(so much for assimilation wiping out your culture. it didn’t work on the black vampires and it didn’t work on remmick either.)

then it picks up and becomes lively. remember when delta slim finished recounting the lynching of his friend, and started humming to lighten the mood? same idea. same coping mechanism.

remember the first time rocky road to dublin plays in the film as the fili sings? it's like remmick’s trying to recreate sammie's performance and summon in his contemporaries through song on his own. right down to identifying who he is and where he's from right at the start of the song, and needing the support of a crowd to fully unleash his talent.

and the performances are framed as opposites: sammie's performance is bright, warm and packed with spirits in a safe, inviting place where everyone relates to his sound in their own way. remmick’s is cold, dark, outside under a thunderstorm, centered on performing the song in one way and full of space for spirits that never come. it's the difference between a kaleidoscope and a melting pot.

that probably has nothing to do with him being a vampire, since if being a vampire means you can't summon spirits anymore, remmick wouldn't be trying to change sammie in the first place. it's simply that remmick doesn't have sammie's gift. he never could have done it even if he were still human.

... but here's where it gets complicated: someone is answering him.

as the number progresses, the black vampires not only join in, but their voices build until they're the ones singing the climax, with their original accents and vocal styles bleeding back in. they start the song emulating his style, and end transforming it into their own.

regarding the dance itself: it's an irish jig for sure. but another form of jig was developed by black slaves in the 1840s, (edit: and the references to the ring shout pointed out here are definitely intentional in the structure of the dance). the dance is appropriation, assimilation and cultural exchange all at once.

an 808 beat rises in the music itself until it replaces the drumming.

(ludwig goransson scored both this film and black panther, which both use 808 beats in the main theme of the film's antagonist, who is a complex and tragic antivillain shaped by structural oppression into someone convinced he's breaking the cycle as he continues it. erik killmonger and remmick are absolutely in conversation with each other. they even both die at sunrise.)

to state the obvious difference between a physical drum and an 808 machine, one is an instrument performed in the moment by a human and the other's programmed. not a coincidence that the undead are being represented by the latter.

remember the vampire couples instantly resuming their romances from before they were turned? the white duo's accents returning after spending half the movie imitating remmick’s? mary immediately changing stack when remmick only wanted sammie, and leaving the barn battle when annie dies? stack being unable to hurt smoke even when the man who turned them is still alive? same principle. they're no longer mortal, but they're still the people they were before they were bitten and it only takes a short time for them to remember that. it's still them. the vampires aren't brainwashed, they have autonomy. the 808s aren't 'alive,' but that's still their sound. they are contributing to the music on their terms.

when do the vampires join in fully? when we reach the verse about... well. being packed into a ship with livestock, wishing you were dead and taken far from the home you never wanted to leave. they enter the song by relating the lyrics to their own experience with the middle passage.

that verse isn't in the film, but it was left in the ost for a reason.

the final verse of the song is where the vampires join in during the scene. it's about the protagonist arriving in that hostile territory, and finding community when his countrymen "[join] in the affray" because they recognize him as one of their own and want to defend him. the final layer of instrumentation is added as all the vampires have committed to joining remmick’s upcoming conflict with the juke joint survivors.

it's by this time that everyone's rushed into the circle to dance with and embrace remmick. he isn't alone in the center anymore, singing into the void, clinging to his culture in isolation.

edit: he even steps aside to let them have the limelight and hypes them up in an alternate cut of the scene. the footage didn't make it to theatrical, but it was shot, meaning it was intended for rocky road to be a lot more mutual than people give it credit for. remmick likes when they express themselves on their terms and he's willing to make room for them. he’s not lying about seeing them as family.

the whole routine takes on this feeling of a war circle psyching itself up before they head in to do battle. note the emphasis on "hunt the hare" and singing "cut a stout blackthorn for to banish ghosts and goblins?" as the juke survivors are currently sharpening wooden weapons to banish the evil spirits that are right outside? the vampires are hyping themselves up to commit more bloodshed, and letting their victims know 'we're outside, we outnumber you, your weapons don't scare us, and we're coming to kill you.' i lied to you was the power of community at its best. this is community at it's darkest.

in the same way the vampires' personalities and culture are starting to reemerge from the irish/white hive mind-- because the music is bringing it out of them-- remmick in turn is accepting black culture into irish culture. for the first time, he's letting them in, instead of asking them to let him in. (remember how one scene later, he's speaking perfect chinese to grace? the connection runs both ways and he's embracing that for the first time.)

the melding of the irish/scottish folk tradition and african-american beats and spiritual melodies, aka the components of country and blues, is how rock music was made. to go even further… we have rhymed poetic speech with a percussive and quick vocal delivery, lyrics discussing enduring institutional oppression, an electronic drumbeat and an emphasis on a dance style featuring a soloist surrounded by a circle of supporters hyping him on: it’s prehistoric hip hop. they can't go in to the party so they tried reinventing the blues outside but ended up making something new.

and to point out the obvious, much in the same way the electric guitar (remmick’s vampire motif calling card) wasn’t around yet, neither was the 808 machine (now the black vampires have one too). it's a summoning circle, but instead of successfully bringing back the past, they stumbled across the future. one where they do find solidarity. they can't reach their ancestors and they've given up passing their culture on to their descendants, but they aren't alone at all and there is community here.

we witness a full narrative arc to the vampire coven just in this performance: they start separated, with remmick using the black vampires as a means to replicate his own culture, and end together as one unified group with their cultures fused into something there literally isn't a word for yet.

which is still a form of assimilation: combining two traditions into one instead of letting them exist side by side. it's that melting pot metaphor we were all sold on.

and it also shows the futility of assimilation: even if you do surrender your identity, you can never get rid of all of it. it bubbles back up and it leads to moments like this, where the part of you that you thought you had to get rid of to be accepted is what ultimately connects you with others the most. these characters were made into vampires to be freed of the burdens their oppressors placed on them for being irish and black, yet their irishness and blackness are what helps them truly connect.

it feels like a parallel to the montage of the characters setting up the juke at the end of the film: people from different backgrounds, all marginalized but convinced they can't belong together and using each other as a means to an end, momentarily letting go of the boundaries they impose on themselves and finding connection, freedom and happiness as they try to build a space to belong together, just before it's destroyed again.

(just like the humans in the juke itself, this tiny bit of community they've found is doomed because they would've been killed no matter what.)

and like that montage, the moment doesn't last, the prejudice bubbles back up and sets the dominoes falling on their community imploding. (at the end, remmick looks around, like he’s expecting someone to show up… and then leans into the group as they swarm him. he has community again… but these still aren’t the people he intended to reach. which is why he’ll be back on his bullshit in the next scene.)

it wasn't enough, but the care still matters because it made that moment exist.

and those moments keep coming back. they're what the characters chase throughout the movie: mary staying an extra day to go to the juke or sitting down to talk to remmick, who hints at his heritage to a human for the first time because he senses that same loneliness in her. everyone on the dance floor as sammie plays, and remmick following that sound for a chance to see his countrymen again. the party preparation. that gesture of friendship from the choctaw to remmick’s people a hundred years ago, that made such a strong impression on him that he traveled who knows how far to see if he could relive it. stack, mary and sammie finding each other sixty years later, reminiscing about that day and still considering it the best of their lives because it might have been temporary, but the freedom was still real.

those moments of freedom and connection make the horror bearable-- for humans and monsters. and this scene shows you that fundamentally, they are the same.

pick poor robin clean ii:

and the vampires, just like humans, want more of those moments so badly that they'll create more horror to get them.

they are still predatory assimilationists. they're going to give back in to the urge to consume more vulnerable people and absorb their uniqueness into themselves, even when we've already seen that it doesn't work. in the exact same way that grace chow is about to give in to the urge to separate her own interests from the black characters', the divide is coming back.

and once again-- it's remmick's fault. he caught a glimpse of belonging with the community he just made, and he's still prioritizing his whiteness over it. shouldn't be a surprise that the faux-southern accent is back.

speaking of. pick poor robin clean returns, sung by the vampires as they close in to attack the juke. just like the first time this song was sung, the vampires are blowing a chance for true community for something consumptive and selfish where only one homogenized perspective is allowed to survive.

they drew the wrong conclusion from their dance circle: instead of realizing their cultures shouldn't be erased, they simply fused them together for a more watered-down whole. assimilation.

again, layers:

the group just bonded and found, for a moment, solidarity and true community. they really are satisfied. they do have a family. they did build something and they did have fellowship.

... but it's still that racist song. this is still a colonization and assimilation metaphor. they're going to force their new (whiter) way of life on a group of people of color who don't want to give up their identities to adhere to it, they'll kill anyone who doesn't comply, and they still want sammie the most.

this is a mob gathered to kill a group of black people, singing something racist to get under their skins. and it works.

this is coming right after they told grace they'll turn lisa if they don't surrender. hearing dozens of her former neighbors, who she didn't trust until just a few hours ago, gleefully singing about how they'll kill her child and damn her soul pretty understandably psychs grace out and makes her turn on the others. which is the goal. they're singing pick poor robin clean as a means to an end for the second time.

the first time around, it was an ugly intention masked by a goofy song. a vampire politely asking for an invitation into a party so he can consume a kid inside. now they're not hiding it: forcing their way in by terrifying the group into begging them to come get it over with. specifically by preying on the preexisting racial tension between the delta chinese and black sharecroppers, to get the odd member out of the group to turn on the others.

the action is still evil, but the intention has changed, because the influence of the majority on remmick does matter. before they danced together, he just wanted sammie and saw the others as a means to getting him. now that he does see them as family, they're coming for everyone. they're dividing the group one last time, before they never have to be divided again.

still irredeemably bad. but still different from where we were at the start.

the final push, where the duality returns

the climax is filled with the vampire motif. obviously.

when remmick’s staked and burning alive, the final sting of rocky road to dublin hits right as he realizes he's going to die. as his mortality returns, so does his humanity (and his native accent), and that simple desire to find people who remind him of home.

but it's infused with the vampire motif, because he's dying a vampire's death. he's a victim of colonization, assimilation and oppression, who has become an oppressor bent on assimilating another marginalized person's culture to fill the void he feels because he can't go home to his own.

smoke gets to be with annie and their baby forever and sammie can conjure them anytime he wants with his music, but remmick will never find the people he left behind and his soul will be gone to oblivion because once his body burns up, it will too.

... but in a way, he did get what he wanted, just for a moment.

mary and stack escaped, and they have his memories, so he (and all the other vampires) will live on through them.

and remember wild mountain thyme? "if my true love, she won't come / then i'll surely find another?" -- he didn't find a way home to his own people. but he found someone else to love for the first time since he left ireland. and almost all of them went together.

and he didn't even realize it.

this is kind of an add-on, but a lot of the instrumentation associated with the vampire motif has one final evolution: it scores when smoke thinks about that moment of freedom and community when the group created the juke joint. full circle. what the vampires and humans wanted were the same fleeting moments of belonging in the face of a lonely, hostile existence in the margins of a world that wants to destroy them. and just like the vampires, the humans blew it because they couldn't hold onto that solidarity in the face of the overwhelming pressure to abide by the boundaries that separate them. and just like the vampires, even if they had made it to dawn with everyone holding together, they still would have had that safe space obliterated by the exact same oppressors.

and finally, the synthy michael myers-esque guitar stings as he prepares to kill the kkk. he's taking on this instrumentation because he's becoming as terrifying a boogeyman to the klan as remmick was to him. the people the vampires left behind in clarksdale will have no idea remmick was ever there or what happened to their loved ones. but they will remember that smoke killed dozens of klansmen and went out literally slaying a grand dragon. even his death is crucial; the klan may not seek revenge on his family and the rest of the community if they think they got the guy who did it and therefore feel like they 'won.'

over the course of the movie, the monster became human, and now a human's becoming a monster-- and in doing so, smoke is fulfilling the role remmick could have played for the people of the juke if he at any point had understood how to be a true ally to them: by using his power to eliminate the oppressors threatening their community and redirecting the violence away from the people they hurt with no regard for how he will benefit from doing so.

[spywhitney]

Thoughts on ships in The Bear

Sydcarmy (Sydney x Carmy)

I filtered out the tag weeks ago and I haven't undone it yet 💀.

98% of posts on my page in the last 6 months or so is to do with this ship- I've had a lot of thoughts about it.

S3 soured my opinion on it, and I've seen some eyebrow raising opinions emerge after s3 that are kind of wild, but sobering I guess?

But unfortunately I've hyperfixated on this ship now so I won't let go until it's over. So yikes for me I guess.

Like I've invested so much attention to it and the odds are looking terrible, but I hope it works out anyway?!?!

Sydrichie (Sydney x Richie)

It's the older man/younger woman trope. That's all it takes for me lol.

I read these fics when I'm tired of the above ship lowkey.

Their dynamic is so interesting to me.

If there weren't so many ****** **** ball sucking/suit licking on Richie while simultaneously trashing on Syd I'd like it a lot more (probably).

I was going to say how Richie treated Syd in s1 is what turns me off too, but I ship Syd with Carmen so, welp.

If they got together it would piss so many people off. Like the hater in me is cry-laughing thinking about how upset certain people would be lmao.

Wish we saw more of them in s3, it would've made so much sense too.

Sydmarcus (Sydney x Marcus)

Um, are the sydmarcus shippers even alive?

Y'all were done dirty. Y'all didn't deserve that man.

I never got the impression Syd liked Marcus however, but still.

If she did, they would've been so cute, like omg.

Marcus has had Syd's back the most and is arguably the only friend she has.

He treats her like a friend/overtly asked her out as more than a friend too etc etc.

The fact Syd didn't even acknowledge the fact Marcus made a dessert and named it after her is wild though.

Their dynamic has a healthy balance of reciprocation, exercised respect and care.

Obviously there are some that insist they should('ve) got together because they don't want sydcarmy which is ridiculous.

Then there's the "Syd deserves better" crowd which while I understand and somewhat agree, I also believe people choose what they deserve, so that's her business lowkey.

Saying all that I'd be all over Marcus. He's passionate, fine as hell and he's super chill?! Already climbing that man personally.

Claircarmy (Claire x Carmy)

I don't care about Claire, so it's hard to care about the relationship.

As much as the Claire hate is entertaining to me (and very valid points have been made about her), I'm pretty neutral on her for the most part.

I will say, the fact that their relationship has been shown to be perfect up until the s2 finale and Carmy calling her a waste of time was all it took for her to walk away is hilarious.

Like, if you can't deal with Carmy saying one mean thing about you, you're not ready to be with him girl lol (especially when compared with--)

The show pushes this a lot so if they're endgame fine, I just want that plot point to be done my goodness.

Carmrich (Carmy x Richie)

I've read a couple of fics and woah?

I like this quite a bit.

Their dynamic is so engaging in the fics I've read.

I almost feel like I don't appreciate their relationship enough in the show.

Sydluca (Sydney x Luca)

Kind of yummy if it was endgame, eh if otherwise.

I'm being dramatic, see my post here for more context.

The actor is british so maybe my bias is showing with this ship ngl.

He's one of the few actors I recognised also.

They look kind of cute, or whatever.

Fak x Richie

They have moments for sure.

I get it.

Marcus x Luca

I never saw this honestly.

To me, it was feel-good to just see a black man eagerly learning in a healthy environment.

I want Marcus for me though, like I said so lol.

Nat x Pete

They're canon.

They go well together, though I will say I don't have a strong opinion on them.

I guess since we don't see any significant conflict with them/they're very stable there's not a lot of emotional weight?

Nat x Richie

I felt some vibes here and there, you know?

They're sweet.

Richie x Jess

It would make sense as a part of Richie's arc.

Funny how some people that ship them based on a couple of looks hate sydcarmy with 3 seasons worth of interactions though.

Michael x Richie

I feel like I'd like this like camrich, but also it might break my heart, so idk if I want to see what's up.

Marcus x Chester

Chester was chill, shame he only got two seconds in s3.

Knowing Marcus had someone outside the restaurant who's supportive was comforting.

Tina x David

They were adorable in "napkins".

Makes sense they're married irl.

Tina x Michael

Felt a vibe for a split second when she talked about him in s1 ngl.

If she didn't have a husband atp--

Sydney x Claire

I think I saw a fic with this on ao3. Don't care about Claire, so you know.

Richie x Tiff

Clearly there's still love there, shame with what happened to them.

Carmy x Luca

I don't see why not.

Carmy x Chef David

😳 I mean, I get the appeal but in the context of the show, yikes. (Not that I haven't shipping something "worse").

[lokielly]

just saw someone say that izzy getting shot wasn’t on camera (it was) and that his death had no reason to happen narratively (it did have a purpose).

izzy’s death scene existed as a way to tell ed it was okay to let go of blackbeard, and it was more powerful than anything izzy could have just told him. izzy used his last words to tell ed that it was okay to be himself and that he was loved. that has a massive impact.

“but that makes izzy just a plot device for ed!”

well yes. while this show does allow secondary characters to be their own characters (which it REALLY did with izzy this season, his arc was amazing), you have to keep in mind the protagonist is stede, and also ed as his love interest. they are the main focus of this show, and the characters around them exist to push their story forward.

of course that doesn’t mean they can’t have their own things going on, because they absolutely do. they’re their own people. but saying that reducing a character into “just a plot device” really isn’t the terrible thing people are making it out to be.

it’s fine to have loved izzy. it’s fine to be upset that your favorite character died. but throwing hate at david jenkin’s and turning against a show about a very unique, underrepresented queer love story just isn’t right.

more on the david jenkin’s thing here because this is the point where i lose the main plot of the post.

i’ve seen people just blatantly missing or misunderstanding information or even sensationalizing things and blaming it on david jenkins.

i saw someone say that izzy’s final words were him telling ed “sorry for making you abuse me.” that wasn’t it at all. it was “sorry for encouraging you to be someone you’re not. but you don’t have to be that way anymore.” that has a completely different tone.

even this person saying izzy wasn’t even shot on camera. he was. ricky turned around, fired a shot, and izzy took it. but he wasn’t going to dramatically fall to the floor because why would the guy that goes “i’m fine fuck off” whenever he’s not fine show that he’s not fine.

i saw someone say that he wasn’t given proper respect at his funeral and that stede bitchy remark was cruel and ungrateful. stede’s “bitchy” remark in question: “he was a good one. bit intense.” like first of all, that’s not mean at all, and honestly, if i were stede i wouldn’t have forgiven him for, ya know, teaming up with the british to kill me. but clearly stede has.

and everyone’s pinning this on david jenkins. and i know this because as soon as i finished the episode i went and checked his twitter mentions. and even if i hadn’t him turning replies off on his post was enough to show me that.

i even saw someone trying to DEFEND david jenkins by saying “guys he probably just didn’t know how big the izzy fandom would become when he wrote this.”

writers. don’t. have. to. write. around. fandoms.

[othcrside]

❀ *◦ rachel zegler. nonbinary. they/she. panromantic pansexual. ⇝ hey, isn’t that hermione salazar-blood ? i think that the ( 26 ) year old from vancouver, british columbia works as an actor at single carrot theatre, but outside of that people describe them as the song the sweet escape by gwen stefani, a sense of the dramatics in everything, roaming empty streets late at night + singing to yourself. i hear they are argumentative & meddlesome, but they are also known to be captivating & forthright. consider giving them a visit at their home in their family’s cabin outside the city and get to know why they’re called the tell-tale heart.

╰ * STATS.

tw: injury

even in utero, hermione was destined for greatness — hence their given name, penned for the shakespearean character from the winter’s tale, the virtuous and beautiful queen of sicily. this was meant to denote the importance that they would one day hold on the world’s stage, and for as long as they could remember all they ever felt drawn to, like a moth to a flame, was the limelight. they would construct props in their youth out of tattered blankets and pillows and make the living room and backyard their set, darn old costumes of their mother’s by hand and wear them like they were brand new, and put on plays they’d written in a night for their whole family.

it became clear that hermione would embody their name to the fullest extent, so their parents enrolled them in drama, dance and even gymnastics classes from the time the were five years old. their intense passion for theater was chalked up to youthful enthusiasm and left to rest; meanwhile during school hours hermione found themself in multiple compromising situations with other students, even going so far once as to engage in a physical fight.

their behavior was closely monitored by their teachers before their parents were called for a conference. they were presented with evidence that displayed their child’s unusual nature; how they exhibited repetitive habits during play time and recess, which often resulted in scrimmages with other children who didn’t follow their rules, being easily upset by minor changes in the classroom without warning, and not to mention their refusal to speak or even look at their teacher at times.

they were officially diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder at age 8. in response, their parents made the necessary accommodations all the while putting in the extra effort to educate hermione on what they had and what they could do to remain calm when feeling distressed. they let them seek comfort in theater, where they knew they had always belonged, and only found a deeper appreciation for the art as they grew.

at 15, hermione had learned how to adapt and cope with their disability, though all of that would change during theater camp one summer. they were brought into the office and put on the phone with their mother — who would then tell them that their father had suffered a work injury and was now paraplegic.

once they returned home, it seemed their once warm, loving family was shattered into hardened fragments. their mother had fallen into a deep depression as their father grew embittered and nihilistic. nothing was the same as they left it. the medical bills piled up and, to make things worse, it seemed all the dreams hermione had of attending an expensive art school were ruined.

after a period of blaming themselves until they were utterly mad with grief over their familial situation, they fled their home, reaching seattle and following all the signs that led to madame irene’s circus, where they were hired as a contortionist thanks to their lengthy background in gymnastics and dance. they traveled across the states until very recently when they were contacted again by one of their aunts who offered to lend them their family cabin in anchorage, where they’ve lived for the past few months after securing a new job as an actor at the single carrot theatre.

—— tidbits !!

an avid collector of vintage items, though holds precedence for older editions of plays, vinyl records, and mary janes over all else.

a cat lover through - and - through. has to carry a lint roller in their bag whenever they leave the house because they spend so much time cuddling and pampering their beloved cat purebred cat veronica.

obsessed with soap operas, namely general hospital, which they've been watching since 2004. may or may not be where they developed their predilection for melodrama.

wears over - sized glasses due to the fact they are legally blind. they cycle through a few different pairs, but their favorite pair are crystal purple and square - shaped.

experiments with makeup and has a fondness for stage makeup, tends to stick to soft palettes and must look like a fairy at all times.

uses their contortionist skills from the circus as party tricks.

quiet (and slightly ashamed) star wars fanatic and feels very passionately about padme amidala and her pristine fashion sense.

"i want to be great, or nothing" in its purest form.

speaking of, has a terrible fear of being forgotten and leaving no noticeable mark on the world. working through this in therapy.

[thatscarletflycatcher]

Because De Gaulle seemed really upset about Wendell Willkie's portrayal of his person in One World (1942), I give you, for your amusement, Willkie's account with De Gaulle's comments/corrections interpolated [in red] and my comments (in green):

"I shall, however, never forget my visit with General de Gaulle [regarding my own person, in the book he published upon his return, he did not dispense with the mocking conformism of malevolence]. I was met at the airport at Beirut, received by an elaborately uniformed color guard and band, and whisked several miles to the house where the general was living -a great white structure, surrounded by elaborate and formal gardens, where guards saluted at every turn. We talked for hours in the general's private room, where every corner, every wall, held busts, statues, and pictures of Napoleon [as our conversation took place at the study of the high commissioner (which Mr. Martel had furnished on the Imperial style) Wendell Willkie presented me as mimicking Napoleon's manners. As I was wearing the white uniform -mandatory in summer for French officers- he saw in that an ostentation resembling that of Louis XIV]. The conversation continued through an elaborate dinner and went on late into the night, as we sat out on a beautiful starlit lawn. (de Gaulle's account here seems more realistic than Willkie's, and is therefore more likely -imperial style vs REPRESENTATIONS OF NAPOLEON EVERYWHERE. But I do wonder where does he take from the Louis XIV thing. Exaggeration of how Willkie represents his reception and the place he was hosted at? Did he read the thing in translation and the translation did some peppering in? Is this coming from some other speech/comment or is a deliberate untruth?)

Frequently the general, in describing his struggle of the moment with the British as to whether he or they should dominate Syria and the Lebanon, would declare dramatically, "I cannot sacrifice or compromise my principles." "Like Joan of Arc," his aide added [as some of my collaborators had spoken of "general de Gaulle's mission", Mr. Willkie insinuated that I mimicked Joan of Arc. In this way of seeing things, Roosevelt 's opponent was also his imitator.].

(I have reached the point where I just... NEED to know where this whole running gag of Joan of Arc originated. So far I've seen it attributed to de Gaulle himself, to Churchill, to Roosevelt, and now to this aide. Everyone attributes it to everyone but apparently no one wants to actually acknowledge it XD Willkie's account does sound highly dramatized; de Gaulle doesn't flatly deny it happened, but changes the wording -and he himself says several times, from the very beginning of his memoirs, that he felt he was destined to do something great for France, that he had gotten a very important mission in its History. So I guess it's anyone's guess if it went as far as the Joan of Arc mention.)

When I referred to my great interest in the Fighting French movement, he corrected me sharply. "The Fighting French are not a movement. The Fighting French are France itself. We are the residuary legatees of all of France and its possessions." When I reminded him that Syria was but a mandated area under the League of Nations (this phrasing is interesting when you know what went down in the British invasion of Syria that led to the protectorate), he said, "Yes, I know. But I hold it in trust. I cannot close out that mandate or let anyone else do so. That can be done only when there is a government again in France. In no place in this world can I yield a single French right, though I am perfectly willing to sit with Winston Churchill and Franklin Roosevelt and consider ways and means by which French rights and French territories can be momentarily and temporarily used in order to help drive the Germans and the collaborators from the control of France.

"Mr Willkie," he continued, "some people forget that I and my associates represent France. They apparently do not have in mind France's glorious history. They are thinking in terms of its momentary eclipse."

(The insistence does sound like De Gaulle, but it is interesting how Willkie tries to draw in the Napoleon symbology and the "we are France" thing while on the same breath recounting that De Gaulle claims the authority over Syria but refuses to decide over it because he thinks no one but the French people through democracy could legitimately do so. In this way de Gaulle is at the same time represented as a sort of crazy fascist danger as a future totalitarian ruler of France... who thinks sovereignty lies on the French people? Maybe Willkie is implying it's all an excuse?)

[mywingsareonwheels]

In which Clem Talleyfer deserves to be a Tumblr Man(TM)

One of so many reasons why more people on tumblr need to know about K.J. Charles' books:

Clem Talleyfer and Rowley Green, the heroes of An Unseen Attraction. (The first of a deliberately potboilery Victorian murder mystery trilogy, though there's nothing potboilery about the romances.) It's set in the early 1870s in London.

Clem: gay, dyspraxic, brown (father a white (and horrifying) aristocrat; mother working-class and Indian and oh Gods the backstory is upsetting, warning about that) lodging house keeper. Kind and compassionate and friendly (when he feels safe) and tall and devastatingly gorgeous. Literal and anxious and very neurodivergent generally and with a wonderful dry humour and not enough confidence. Attends poetry lectures at the working men's club, is beginning to learn Hindi, goes to a wonderful secret queer pub and has friends there and also to another rather lovely-sounding pub mostly frequented by Indian immigrants and other brown British people.

Rowley: gay, small, extremely short-sighted, thinks he's ordinary-looking, working-class, very PTSD-ridden (his childhood was appalling, again content warnings there), conflict-averse, extremely neat-fingered, animal-loving taxidermist (yes really) and abuse survivor. Solitary and polite and considerate and peaceful and warm-hearted and very intelligent. Also lacks confidence, though in different ways. One of the paying guests at the lodging house (with his shop being the neighbouring one). Big Dickens fan; quotes Mr Venus from Our Mutual Friend in dramatic moments.

They're both in their mid-30s, older than some of KJ Charles' heroes (who are usually in their early to late 20s) and I adore that.

And omg the love that forms between them is just... oh my heart. I relate to both pretty heavily in different ways (in particular Clem's sensory overwhelm and way of talking and difficulty with ordered tasks and objects is all just... oh my, I've rarely felt so represented in any fiction when it comes to the way my brain works) and I want to protect them both from all harm. They see each other as neither has ever been seen before. Also the sex scenes are gorgeous (containing *extremely* soft and to my mind very hot kink in some cases), and also skippable if that's not your cup of tea, though you do get some character development etc. through them.

I have loved all of KJ Charles' books that I've read so far but this is my favourite because Clem and Rowley are my favourites. And honestly they deserve a wealth of fanart and adoration. <3

Content warning for violence, murder, taxidermy, accounts of past child abuse and past school bullying, reference to past sexual violence, and representation of homophobia, ableism, classism, and racism (no racial slurs are used and it's kept low-key, but it's there). I note that KJ Charles has a list of content warnings on her website which is partly why I love her. So to say this is an outright recommendation would be overstating things, there is some hard stuff here. Also Charles is white and so am I, so though she seems to have done her research very thoroughly and to have taken very great and deeply sympathetic care over the portrayal of Clem, I can't guarantee I've not missed something flawed in the representation in terms of his being a MOC. But I think a lot of people on here would love this book and especially this relationship, and oh my do Clem and Rowley deserve a lot of love. :-)

(Also I know the person the book is dedicated to and she's awesome. :D )

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

So regarding A-Town, how do the people working on it feel about it? Everyone has to make a living, but are any of them uncomfortable making a low budget show that somewhat trivializes the people who save the human race?

I think they would say that the history of comedy has always been the history of mocking the unacceptable and exposing the taboo. All in the Family responded to the Civil Rights era by creating the world's most bigoted bigot and then inviting everyone to laugh at him, even knowing a nonzero percent of viewers were going to agree with him. The Chair and Abbott Elementary are 2020s efforts to point and laugh and cry at terrible current events. There's specifically a tradition of "war is absurd" as a comedy premise: Catch-22 for World War II, Blackadder Goes Forth for World War I, Dr. Strangelove for the Cold War, so on.

So part of why Marco appears on A-Town, why Tom doesn't mind the show, why some Santa Barbara residents watch it, is that it's letting you laugh at something that would otherwise make you scream in horror. Blackadder Goes Forth has a scene where a WWI general sets a 12"x12" square of sod on a table and says "took a lot of turf today"; the conversation reveals that the square foot of grass on the table is the entirety of the ground taken that day. It's mocking a horrific reality —��that the British regularly sacrificed 1000s of lives for a few yards of battlefield, and that "winners" of WWI battles often had to be determined with a yardstick — but it's making a sharp critique of the powerful, and it's a solid bit of shock comedy.

Most people watching A-Town know that Daisy A. fixing her manicure in line to be reinfested, only to be sent home due to a paperwork error, is not an accurate depiction of being a controller. But its point, about the yeerks' kidnappings being arbitrary and their leadership being incompetent, would land well with a lot of ex-hosts. And the fact that the show takes the time to distinguish that Daisy and Zeptron 420 are two completely different people — something that I suspect some other postwar movies would neglect — is at least part of the reason for Tom's tolerance for the show. It's not great that the show chooses to convey that point with the Girly = Evil; Goth = Good trope, but at least the dramatic costume changes convey that Daisy's personality is not Zeptron's.

That said, Jean and Jake and everyone else who hates the show also has a point. Jean especially finds it so upsetting because half the jokes rest on an enthymeme of "Obviously Jake Berenson's parents are the most clueless idiots ever to breathe air." A-Town aspires to, like The Americans, show the hollowness of the suburban American ideal — that's why its sets look straight out of Leave It to Beaver — but that leaves Dr. and Mr. A mostly being the butt of the joke for their negligent and incompetent parenting. For Jean, that hits a little too close to home, in a way it wouldn't for Marco watching his fake-self fight taxxon puppets by holding up a stuffed skunk, or Tom watching his fake-self swap lipstick colors every time someone new controls her body.

So if A-Town aspires to be Blackadder Goes Forth, it lands closer to being South Park: sometimes funny and pointed, sometimes lending support to the bigoted views it tries to critique. Like South Park, the conversation about it will probably acknowledge its real social contributions (exposing Scientology, excoriating nationalism) while also showing the real harms to vulnerable people from the show's brand of comedy (turning "gay" into a catchall insult, resurrecting antisemetic myths). Like South Park, A-Town tries to mock things that need mocking, but it also spends almost as much time punching down as it does punching up.

[ineffablelunatic]

Ghosts pirate AU

Captain - the captain of the ship, obviously. There is a small mutiny in the equivalent of the episode "Getting Out" but they make him Captain again when they realise they're useless without him. He's a good and fair captain and once they get past the initial intimidation, he's actually very loveable.

Thomas - the ship's (very dramatic) scribe. He's very in love with Alison and he tries to add poetry to the ship's notes. It doesn't work out well. He had a sweetheart back on land at one point, but after receiving the news that she had married his cousin in his absence, he first tried to walk the plank and then swiftly moved on to Alison.

Kitty - stowed away on the ship as a young child and is now an essential member of the crew for moral support. Her own family were bad to her and as such the Captain treats her as his daughter. She takes in injured animals, meaning that the ship now has a small zoo in its hold. Nobody knows how she finds them, but they would die for her.

Pat - the first mate. He seconds Captain's points but would never actually want to lead the ship on his own. He has a pet parrot called Goldie who overheard Carol and Daley mocking him and now occasionally mocks him too (allowing for a Season 4 Christmas Special arc). He frequently teaches the other crew members important life lessons, and his sunny outlook brightens everyone's day. He gets seasick sometimes.

Robin - the ship's navigator. He was the original owner of the ship and nobody quite knows how long he's been around, but he's surprisingly wise. He navigates using the stars and even though they frequently get lost, he says the resulting adventure makes up for it. Everyone agrees.

Julian - the ship drunk. He was once a high ranking nobleman, but ran away from his family and responsibilities for a life on the sea. He spends most of his time drinking and playing chess with Robin, although he has his occasional moments of depth. He teaches the parrot to swear.

Humphrey - the lookout. He's afraid of heights but doesn't mention it because he doesn't want to be a bother. He was taken into custody due to the actions of his wife, the pirate queen, and was saved from imminent execution by Captain and his crew.

Mary - the cook. She burns all of the food but nobody ever complains because they don't want to upset her. She writes a lot of letters to an old friend back on land, but the friend doesn't seem to know that she's a pirate. It's implied that she was chased out of her hometown and ended up on the ship, but nobody knows why.

Fanny - the disgruntled hostage. She was taken from a cruise ship by the pirates, and they were planning on leaving her on a desert island because of all her complaining. However, their ship was almost hijacked by rival pirates, and through some combination of extreme complaining and entitlement, she scared them away. They keep her around just in case.

Annie - Mary's childhood friend. They grew up together and were incredibly close, with Annie helping Mary find her voice. However, when Mary had to leave her hometown, she also had to leave Annie, and so Annie waits at a cliff edge to watch the incoming ships, hoping one of them will bring Mary back. Most of the people in her town think she's waiting for the return of some lover or husband.

Havers - once Captain's first mate. The crew speculates about the precise nature of their relationship, but Captain is private enough that he would never tell anyone. However, Havers left the pirate life to join the British Navy in a clemency programme. After he left, Captain was heartbroken. He still hopes that Havers will return some day, and often crew members catch him staring off across the sea as if he'll see Havers' ship coming towards him across the horizon.

Plague Ghosts - the lesser crew. They mainly keep to themselves in the hold of the ship, and most of the main crew try and avoid them because they have scurvy. They all stick together, though, and they keep the ship running, although they get little recognition for it.

Jemima - the child of one of the lesser crew. She was raised on the ship and will one day make a strong pirate - possibly even a pirate queen. She isn't seen around the ship much, but she can sometimes be heard singing haunting old sea shanties from the stern of the ship. Other passing ships assume she's a siren.

Humphrey's wife - the pirate queen. She's wanted in at least 10 countries for extreme piracy, and her actions almost got Humphrey killed. There was always a barrier between them, of both language and culture, and yet Humphrey still tried to take the fall for her treachery. It's unknown how she feels about him, but every so often the ship gets a delivery of a large number of coins. They assume this is a thank you.

Alison and Mike - new hostages. The crew jokes about Alison being related to Fanny because they're both hostages, but due to her far nicer temperament and friendly nature, she soon becomes a staple of the ship. Mike does handiwork around the ship, and although still very unnerved by the pirates, tries his best to live with them. Alison makes negotiations when the ship makes landfall because her social skills are far better than the rest of the crew, and she's probably the only one who wouldn't be arrested on sight. Alison knows full well about Thomas's affections but refutes them at every turn.

The boat - The Button. It used to be called The Rogue Rider when Robin owned it, but when Kitty joined the crew, she would only call it the Button (for reasons unknown), and the name stuck. The ship has been around for who knows how long, and carries secrets that few could even guess at. Sometimes it even seems to have its own sentience, although nobody understands how. What they do know is that when a new crew member comes aboard, there's already a room waiting for them, and sometimes they'll enter their room only to find it has rearranged itself. The ship always seems to know what the crew need at any given time.

[hisui-dreamer]

YESS THEY ALL SPOIL HER AND TEASE HER LIKE A BUNCH OF OLD BROTHERS LIKE FR I WOULD WATCH A SHOW WITH JUST PLATONIC FAMILY INTERACTIONS ABOUT THEIR DAILY LIFE😭

i really liked his route!! very dramatic, but as expected from the drama author haha. that moment when he realised comte bought MC a dress once and immediately wanted to one-up him was so cute🥺💕

also also arthur had that really great line that authors are supposed to make people happy🥺💕 i felt that so hard particularly cuz irl conan doyle hated sherlock holmes and killed him off to stop writing but bc the fans were really upset he actually started writing again man even in stillsword shakespeare's route my mind is on the OTHER British author

but yeah, it was really sweet! i really loved how MC fell for shakespeare after seeing his aspirations and kindness, and chose to believe him even when he tried pushing her away haha, just the trust she had in him🥹

i just finished shakespeare's route and started charles', but i love love love how the mansion just always becomes family with MC. like, even mozart was smiling and being sweet despite not being in love??? found family troupe hits so hard in this game😭💕

OMG im watching a stream one of my moots made playing through his route SO I KNOW WHAT YOURE TALKING ABOUT AND. IT WAS SO SWEET. I LOVE HOW KIND THEY ALL ARE TO MC :((( ITS ADORABLE AAAAA!!!!!!

what!! did you think about shakespeares route??? :o

[yarpharp]

I had this insanely long conversation with a dear friend about how the Batfamily would probably be the most bizarre collection of accents ever. This was the verdict:

Bruce is a Gothamite, but he was raised/primarily around Alfred, with his classic British accent. He'd sound out a lot of his vowels with a bit of a Jersey drawl, but he'd annunciate with the kind of precision you expect from an Englishman. He also probably calls the bathroom the Loo in private and a few other little slang terms. BUT oh, it gets even more confusing as he gets older, because he spent a good chunk of his formative years after basically quitting college being trained by the League... Where the dialect is somewhere between archaic forms of Arabic and some Mandarin (because Ra's is old as dirt and obviously refused to adapt his language habits)? The comics were never very clear, but Arabic was a generally agreed thing. So ultimately? Bruce has this generally soft Gothamite accent with careful English annunciation but some words end up lilting because of League influences. The paparazzi claim it's his "international accent" from traveling all over so much, but in reality? He's Batman. He got that accent from being around Alfred and Ra's when he was young.

Yet then this leaves us to analyze others! I mean, what would Jason's actual accent be? He's a Crime Alley kid at the core, so an insanely aggressive Jersey accent. But then he died and came back, and who raised/trained him in his formative years? Oh yeah, ALSO THE LEAGUE. So now you got this pissed off anti-hero with a voice modulator with an accent that drags at vowels but lilts at random. None of the other criminal kingpins in Crime Alley can pin down if he's actually a local or some upstart from out of town trying to assimilate to the local vernacular.

Dick Grayson is the one with the most Frankenstein accent. Why? He grew up in the Circus, and when his Romani parent was not around to babysit him, it was a diverse mix of individuals with all sorts of accents and verbal ticks. Some lilting, some drawl, a bit of everything. Sometimes he just pronounces one word in a very specific way and it baffles Bruce and Alfred. What's worse? He's just one of those people who picks up accents from friends and family, so he ends up coming home one day after hanging out with Superman pronouncing shit like a Kansas hick out of the blue. Bruce is beside himself.

Duke and Tim are immune. Tim sounds like a Gotham rich kid with good pronunciation but a few nasal vowels and Duke just has a mid-level Jersey accent that any average Gotham kid would have.

Stephanie is the wild card. She's got the Gothamite accent but she's ADHD beyond words. And if you have ADHD, you might understand the feel when you subconsciously start picking up accents for certain words and phrases. As a result, Stephanie will randomly tone-shift into an accent she picked up from a Batfam member. Or her favorite barista at Starbucks. Or Harley Quinn's dramatic Jersey accent that outstrips Jason's.

Cass is stuck in accent/pronunciation hell. She's trying to learn to verbally speak English but everyone around her pronounces shit differently. ASL is great, it's neutral language everyone in the family knows, but when she finally speaks it's a mess of accents that reminds everyone in the family that WOW WE ARE A LANGUAGE SALAD.

Damian just sounds like a rich Arab kid. Perfect English clearly trained into him via a UK-born tutor but plenty of the lilt. He gets subconscious about it privately and tries to lose the accent for the sake of "blending in" to Gotham but he's surrounded by family with non-standard Gotham accents.

And finally: Alfred. He has his British accent but he's surrounded by people who have hybrid accents. When he is extremely upset, he loses a lot of his British posh and sounds a lot like Jason. He blames Jason for cursing wildly and repeatedly in his kitchen over the years for causing this.

[docholligay]

Eight Days of Content 2021 Nominations!

Hello my little chickadee-dee-dees! I know it seems early, but Hanukkah is at the end of November this year, so we have to get on it ASAP! 

This is your chance to nominate the things you’d like to see for Eight Days of Content! These will be voted on later, with a chance for a drawing for some of the nominations!

For each category, you may nominate up to three things! But remember, you're playing against yourself here. When you nominate, please nominate with the full name of the thing. If there is more than one thing (Like if you just say "Precure") and I can't figure out what you mean easily, it goes into the bin.

For Misc, if you are nominating something like a book or webcomic, and don't say (webcomic) or something after, it's knocked out. I'm not going to chase this stuff. For Misc stuff that's a cooking stream, or booze stream or whatever, you can just tell me what you're thinking and I'll come up with a clever name for it.

Remember, to get into the Shamash Day drawing, I'm picking my favorite answers from every bonus question! Lots of chances to enter!

THE CATEGORIES ARE:

The Children’s Corner: THIS IS THE SPACE WHERE CHILDREN’S SHOWS CAN BE NOMINATED THIS IS THE ONLY PLACE A SHOW THAT IS INTENDED FOR CHILDREN CAN BE NOMINATED. THIS IS THE PLACE WE WILL DO A SHOW THAT IS INTENDED FOR CHILDREN.

Holligay Hates: You know it, You love it, I hate everything. This is where we specifically nominate a show for me to brutalize. I reserve the right to remove any show I don’t want to brutalize for one reason or another, but the only thing I’ve ever had to remove was  people started gettin weird about it, not because my feefees got hurt, I love stupid shit. (also I lied you can also nominate a children’s show for this)

Writing Day: Exactly what it sounds like! We’ll nominate topics/styles etc. For example: Prompt day, noted English major Holligay, Holligay loves food, etc.

Television Show: Just what’s on the tin, as Jetty would say. Nominate a television show for me to do!

Other: This is where all the weird shit goes! Me doing a cooking stream, dramatic readings, inane video rants about Eurovision, webcomic (I have no idea how one would liveblog a webcomic), like the one time I read that old British cookbook and laugh-cried the whole way through it, basically, whatever your imagination can hold, nominate it! I can always say no and it’s so unlikely as to be impossible that you’ll upset me just by nominating. Even if you nominate like, “unearth your dead grandfather and read his bones for filth” I’d be like, “Yeah Dallas would be into that”

If you want to discuss what you’ve nominated, get advice, or just chat about what a bitch I am, the Discord is Here! 

THhis is open until 11:59 pm on Halloween! 

Any other questions, let me know! 

THE NOMINATION FORM IS HERE

[unmaskedagain]

Remember You Young

I answered this ask because I thought it was adorable. I loved the show they wanted me to do, and I want to see who could guess it before it became obvious. Its a one-shot . 

She was being followed. At first it had been daunting when she realized it, and Marinette had done everything she could to shake them off her trail. Then she realized she was being stalked by kids. Literally kids. None older than ten or eleven at best.

           They had been terrible at hiding, rarely ever whispered, argued constantly, had the most outrageous costumes but somehow managed to keep up with Marinette’s every move... most of the time. They ran around with toy guns and pretend walky talkies.

           It either said the best thing about the kids’ skills, or the worst thing about Marinette’s.

           There was a husky boy who ran around in a blue shirt and goggles. He never took off the old pilot’s hat he wore. He was also… always eating cheese. Or candy. He liked puns that caused his friends to groan constantly.

           There was an Asian little girl who wore an adorable green sweater that was too big for her and the arms of the sweater went well past her hands. She was girly and seemed to be the sweetest of the bunch. Honestly, she was the happiest girl Marinette had ever seen in her entire life. The only time the kid had gotten upset was when she had cried when couldn’t find the stuffed animal she wanted in any of the stores. Marinette had been heartbroken for her. The bluenette didn’t know what a “Rainbow Monkey” was or why it had to be French but she was going to get it for the girl if it was the last thing she did it.

           A bald British boy seemed to be the leader as everyone took direction from him. Marinette had never seen his eyes due to the black glasses he wore. The kid seemed to believe himself to be some sort of superspy. He had a fierce take-charge attitude and barked orders like a pro and preferred to a treehouse their hung out at as headquarters. He didn’t smile often.

           A pretty black girl seemed to be the one with the most sense of the much, and the most style. She wore her hair in a long braid, a blue shirt-dress and an old red cap. The girl had a natural charisma and coolness to her that made Marinette feel awkward in comparison. She seemed to second-in-command .

           The smallest of the bunch was a blond boy with an unfortunate bowl cut and a bright orange hoody. He was loud, brash, and was the “tough guy” of the bunch. He picked a fight with nearly everyone. A fierce little guy that called Marinette a “Ruddy Teenager.”

           However all the kids seemed to dislike adults and teens to some degree. They cast suspicious glances at everyone thirteen and older no matter how nice they were. None of them ever called each other by their names, always opting to follow the rules of whatever game they were playing and called each other by numbers. And always mispronounced the word: number.

           Numbuh 1. Numbuh 2. Numbuh 3. Numbuh 4. Numbuh 5. Marinette hadn’t gotten close enough to figure out who was who but she did suspect the numbers were ranking order or anything. They were probably just random.

           After over two weeks of being stalked, Marinette still hadn’t been able to figure out what they wanted from her. Only that they didn’t know she was Ladybug. It was frustrating.

           She finally got answers one day while walking home from school when she got attacked by an evil cat lady who weaponized her pets, a deranged dentist who put braces on everyone, and a man dressed like toilet. They attempted to kidnap Marinette and raise all out heck on everyone around them. They weren’t Akumas. They were just crazy people.

           The kids fought them back. They saved the day. They saved Marinette. The villains ran with their tails between their legs.

           …Suddenly everything the kids had been doing didn’t seem like a game anymore.

           …Then the kids kidnapped Marinette. The kids jumped her, hogtied her, gagged her, and carried her back to their tree house… which Marinette now realized was way more advanced than any tree house should be. EVER.

           As soon as they got to there, and Marinette was uncharitably tossed on to the couch, the kids panicked.

“We shouldn’tve done this!” Goggles boy chimed. “We weren’t supposed to make contact. Moonbase will decommission us for sure.”

“And let the adults have her, Numbah 2,” The bald boy said. “I think not! We can never let the adults win. Its against everything the Kids Next Door stand for.”

The black girl nodded, “Numbah One’s right, we can’t let Father have what’s in her brain,” She said. “It could destroy the KND!”

“But that’s not possible, Numbah five, we all know that!” The girl in green said. “She got decommissioned. Her brain got all wishy-washy. Right, Numbah Four?”

           The blond boy huffed, “Yeah! Numbah Three’s got a point. And what’s so important about some ruddy teenager anyway? Tell you what! We should drop her artic ocean and never look back.”

           Numbah five groaned, “Are you stupid, boy? They sent Numbuh 274, I mean Chad, after her. And CREE! They wouldn’t have done that if she wasn’t important. The supreme leader wouldn’tve sent us to stop them from getting her! Ya moron.”

           Marinette frowned at that. Chad, the handsome foreign exchange student that came to Marinette’s class a few weeks ago. All the girls in school thought he was so dreamy. Even Marinette, even though she had been perplexed at the sad, almost wistful looks he would shoot her when he thought he wasn’t looking. And at the stories he told about his childhood, and woud look at Marinette like he was waiting for her to jump in and finish them. Almost like he knew her. Or expected her to suddenly remember him.

           The same with Cree, a foreign exchange student in a grade above Marinette’s, but to a lesser extent than Chad. The older girl liked to make sly remarks about what being a teen meant where she came from. She cracked what seemed to be inside jokes at Marinette and looked crestfallen when it was clear the bluenette didn’t understand what she meant. Then Cree would grumble about stupid kids ruining everything.

“But WHHHHYYY?” Numbah Four whined. “We got sent a like bajillion miles away to         a city where they force kids to eat bugs and smelly cheese all to protect a teenager. A TEENAGER! And they don’t even tell us why.”

           Numbah Two frowned, “It is kind of strange. I mean we hate teenagers! They’re the worse. Why save this one?” He looked at Marinette like she was specimen in a jar.

“Because team,” Numbah One announced loudly, pausing for, what Marinette knew was, dramatic effect.  “She is Numbah Seventy-Two.”

           Gasps rang through the room. The kids reared back as if struck. Their eyes went wide and they started at Marinette in awe.

“…Or at least she used to be,” Numbah One added.

“Woah,” Numbah Four said, looking at Marinette with newfound respect.

           Numbah Two sqeauled, “This is the best day ever. You have to sign my Yipper card.” He told Marinette. “It’s an ultra-rare collectable. Only three still exists. The rest were destroyed.”

“But, but, but how?” Numbah Five asked, removing her hat. “All records of Numbah Seventy-Two was struck from the history of the KND. Only the supreme leader and her team ever knew what happened to her.”

“They pinky-swore not to tell anyone what happened!” Numbah Three added. “No one would ever break a pinky promise.”

“That’s true,” Numbah five nodded. “No kid ever would. Expecially not her team. She saved us. She saved the KND. She saved the world and made it better for kids everywhere.”

           Numbah One nodded. “Exactly. No kid would ever break the solemn oath. But do you remember just who was one her team?”

  ��        Looks of realization appeared on the kids’ faces, and then anger.

“Numbah Two Hundred and Seventy-Four,” Numbah Five said bitterly. “He was Number Seventy-Two’s second in command for years. And He betrayed her. Why am I not surprised?”

“But why?” Numbah Two asked. “I mean if she was still Numbah Seventy-Two I’d understand. She stopped Principle Boutface from ending summer vacation forever. She stopped Father from making Halloween adults only forever and ever. Name a bad guy, and I can guarantee she kicked their butts! And most importantly she even beat…” Numbah Two paused, clearly afraid. “well you know. She’s done loads of cool things. But She can’t remember anything. So why? Why come get her now?”

“She beat who?” Numbah Four asked. “I don’t know. Who’d she else did she beat? Why were they so important?”

           Numbah One and Five looked away. Both remembered but neither wanted to say anything.

“We were still just little babies when it happened,” Numbah Three answered seriously. “Still finishing training. We never really knew what was going on. Too little for anyone to tell us. We just knew it was bad. Kids were always scared, always hurting…”

“It was a dark time,” Numbah One agreed. “Before Father took over, there was another in charge of the evil adults in the world. But he worse than Father could’ve ever dreamed of being. Kids were scared to go to sleep. They were afraid of their closets and what was under their beds. OF every shadow. No kid would be caught out after dark. They were too scared. Nowhere was safe. No one was safe. Not from him. Not from…”

“The Boogieguy,” Numbah Five finished. “The most powerful leader the adults ever had. The strongest, most evil villain you can imagine. But Numbah Seventy-Two refused to back down. She was the only who could stand up to him. The only one to ever beat him.”

           Numbah Two nodded, “Legend says the Boogieguy had a nasty plan to open a portal to unleash meanest, nastiest monsters another world to get kids to behave better. But Numbah Seventy-Two heard and went to beat him once and for all. And she did too. She trapped him in his own trap. He’s been there ever since!”

Numbah Three added, “Numbah Seventy-Two finally defeated the Boogieguy, she locked him away in a place so scary, so terrifying not even the adults would be willing to go near it. Which it means it has to be really, really, REALLY, scary. Only she knew how to get him out. She used a super-secret password that only she knew. And then, and then she, she!” Numbah Three burst into tears.

Numbah One placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her down, “To stop the Boogieguy for good, and to make sure no kid ever had to suffer his wrath again, she decommissioned herself. She was only eleven.”

“It was a hard sacrifice, but one kids everywhere will never forget,” Numbah One vowed. “And the Global KND didn’t let it be in vain. We fought back harder than ever before. Her team-”

“But, but,” Numbah Four look around, “She wasn’t even a teenager, why’d she go and do a stupid thing like that for?”

“To save us,” Numbah Five answered, and put her hat back on. She looked at Marinette with hard eyes. “To save the KND, and protect kids everywhere. Because of her, the KND finally turned the tables on adults. We weren’t scared of the dark anymore.”

“Was never the same!” Numbah Five snapped at him. “None of them were ever the same after fighting Boogieguy, after what happened to Numbah Seventy-Two. They couldn’t handle being around each other anymore. They are transferred to different teams. Their entire sector was retired. Number Three Hundred and Sixty-Two. Numbuh Sixty. My sister- Cree! Numbah Two Hundred and Seventy-Four, UGH! Look what they became. Ya don’t need to be decommissioned to not recognize them anymore.”

           It went quiet. The kids not knowing what to say. Marinette had never been so confused in her life. Had she been some sort of Spy kid? Had her memories been erased? What was going on?

           And if everything, the kids were saying was real, and Marinette decided that it was, then she was a little peeved at Chad and Cree, her old teammates apparently, for going against everything this KND had accomplished… That Marinette had apparently sacrificed herself for. And what for? To side with some evil adults?

“…The KND have figured out a way to destroy Boogieguy forever,” Numbah one said. “Unfortunately the adults have also become aware of the Boogieguy’s location and want release him. In order for either side to succeed in their mission, we need Numbah Seventy-Two.”

           All eyes turned back to Marinette.

Numbah Five cast a sad look at Numbah Seventy-Two, Marinette, “Chad and Cree will come for her.” Of that Numbah five was certain. The lone picture of ABC that sat next to Cree’s bedside nightstand was proof enough of that. It was the only thing her big sister ever kept of her KND days, apart from her memories. The only “little kid” thing she didn’t scorn. “They won’t stop until they get her. I don’t think Cree or Chad ever forgave the KND agreeing that Numbah Seventy-Two should erase her memories.”

           They never forgave themselves for letting her, Abby didn’t add.

“She was decommissioned, hello!” Numbah Two reminded them. “She can’t remember anything.”

           Number One took off his glasses and looked at the teenager who, in another life, had been everything he ever dreamed of being in the KND. She was a legend. A hero. She had, once, been the best of them all. “She will.”

[amuhseen2003]

SANDERS SIDES KARAOKE: GOTHIC LITERATURE MUSICALS EDITION

Okay, so after four years of being in the Sanders Sides fandom, I’m going to attempt to write some headcanons. Here we go.

Since it’s well-known in fanon that the sides do have karaoke sessions, imagine what would happen if they sang musicals based on gothic literature.

Roman’s happy because broadway, duh, Logan is happy because it’s canon that he enjoys gothic literature since he dressed up as Frankenstein’s monster for Halloween, same reason for Virgil and Patton’s happy that his family is bonding. He made extra cookies for the occasion. He’s dangerous like that. 

(I headcanon that when Thomas had to write analyses of gothic literature novels for school, Virgil, Roman and Logan would work together to come up with stuff and write the best essays in class and Patton would be so proud of them)

I’m not going to count Les Mis because I’m not too sure if that counts as gothic literature and whilst the Hunchback of Notre Dame is indeed gothic (trust me I read that in a plane once. An entire, like, ten pages is dedicated to describing the scenery) I don’t think it became a broadway show.

Now this isn’t like their usual karaoke nights, no sir. Just idly remaining in the living room won’t do. Where is the gusto? The pizazz? The accolade winning extravaganza? The-

“We get it Princey, can you just get on with it?” - Virgil

No, this type of singing can only be accompanied with an atmosphere that will do it justice. To the imagination they go and with Logan’s (who has practically memorised every single one of these books and is not geeking out at all) input on how the novels describe each setting, Roman creates very intricate landscapes for each song.

When they sing ‘Alive’ from ‘Jekyll and Hyde’ Roman thought that it would be really cool for Patton to play Mr Edward Hyde since Hyde is literally the human id and Patton, being the embodiment of morality, is literally the superego (although to be fair, Patton is also shown to be quite childish and impulsive since he’s also the base of Thomas’ emotions and Hyde is impulsive because he’s a way for Jekyll to act on his own emotions - especially since the only crime that Hyde does in the book are him over-reacting with his anger by beating a man to death. And in the novella, Jekyll writes that he and Hyde are like father and son and that Hyde is actually younger than Jekyll is, he does have that sense of childishness that Patton has only instead of that childishness being good and helpful, it’s bad and hurtful. Plus in the soundtrack of Alive, whilst Anthony Warlow does sing about how good being evil feels like, he also sounds like he is crying tears of joy of being able to be himself, the first words post-transformation being freedom and anyways these are supposed to be fun headcanons not analytical headcanons so I digress…)

Anyways Patton is happy to play the villain because “look kiddos, Roman conjured up this really swell cape” “the correct term is cloak” “and check out this top hat and cane!” and he’s just belting out the words and froliking around Victorian London without a care in the world, making his cape swoosh in the wind.

“Patton I would advise you not to take your shoes off. This is nineteenth-century London with people dying of cholera by the dozens, your feet could catch a myriad of infections.”

“Worry not, specs, the scenery is merely an illusion. I would never allow for our dear padre to succumb to the villain of illness”

“Aww, thanks kiddo (cue Patton’s sunshine smile) now where was I? IT’S THE FEELING OF BEING ALIVE! FILLED WITH EVIL AND TRULY ALIVE!”

They have Logan sing ‘I Need To Know’ because a doctor of science singing about wanting to expand his knowledge and having that thirst to do whatever it takes to get said knowledge. That is a Logan Sanders song right there. At first he’s like “why do I have to sing. I was happy enough giving directions and helping you with the scenery” but Roman creates this big scientific library that could rival the one from Beauty and the Beast/ laboratory from that’s practically the identical to Jekyll’s lab in the book and he’s like “Fine” like he isn’t enjoying himself. He is. They all know it. He’s not fooling anyone

Patton and Roman sing ‘Bring on the men’ together (yes, whilst wearing dresses) whilst Virgil and Logan drink apple juice from those big british beer glasses in the mind-scape created Red Rat (which Logan is quick to point out doesn’t exist and is vocally upset at how the musical adaptation added unnecessary romantic subplots with Lisa and Lucy when the book itself only had three background female characters who were only there for like one paragraph. He’s even more upset at the other inaccuracies with the book like how in the play Jekyll creates his formula as a cure for mental illness and Hyde was accidental whilst in the book he did it because he wanted to indulge in sin without fearing the consequences and Hyde, whilst not being exactly what he wanted, was actually created on purpose or how in the book Hyde only kills one man and in the musical he kills practically everyone except for the one person he did kill. Virgil pats him on the back with sympathy). Roman and Virgil are sniggering at the sexual euphemisms at the end of the song whilst Patton’s confused. She just seems really enthusiastic about food.

Roman sings both parts of ‘Confrontation’ by himself. He gets a standing ovation.

He also does ‘Transformation’. The problem is that he was so good at sounding like he was in complete agony and near death that they had to stop the song prematurely because Patton was getting upset. Don’t worry, Pat gets lots of cuddles by Roman afterwords.

(You know what I might do some sides reacting to The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde later because 1. It’s my favourite book and 2. All four of them would have very interesting takes on it)

From the Frankenstein musical Virgil plays the criminal from ‘Say Amen’ because he wants to (seriously, the guy’s first words in the song are ‘I curse the day that I was born into a world so black with hate’) and Logan plays Victor Frankenstein but Patton refuses for his son to even pretend to be executed by the noose so they have Roman play a man wearing a british executioner outfit with a foam sword and the creative side just bonks the anxious side on the neck with it. Logan despairs about the historical inaccuracy from his place in the stands whilst Patton is cheering next to him. Patton also hands him an extra jumper to keep him warm in the Switzerland cold. 

“Patton, I am grateful that you are thinking of my health but no one in eighteenth century Switzerland wore bright blue jumpers with cartoon kittens on them”

“Really, Logan, are you paw-sitive?”

“I would like to change places with Virgil. Immediately” 

Roman and Logan turn ‘Birth to my creation’ into a duet because Logan enjoys the scientific aspect of it and Roman can’t resist the drama (of course). He goes all out. He makes Victor’s lab perfect to the smallest detail (and cheers when Logan’s eyes start lighting up and he does that cute clappy thing when he’s excited), he conjures a storm and makes lightning strike at the best moments of the song. He even creates a ‘wretch’ (what Victor calls the monster in the book. I’ve heard that it’s name is Adam but all I remember from the novel is Victor calling himself god and the creature his Adam) to lie on the table. 

“And we didn’t even have to go grave-robbing for it. Or drop out of University.” - Roman

“No matter how many times I wanted to.” - Virgil

Roman and Virgil do most of the songs from Dracula. The creative side creates this huge, expensive-looking window-balcony thing with glass double doors and billowing silk curtains so that he could dramatically sing ‘the longer I live’ whilst the wind blows through his hair and he dramatically drapes himself on the balustrade so that the light from the full moon hits his figure just right. Patton’s close to crying.

Logan is very eager to give as many facts as he can about nineteenth-century mental institutions for ‘The Master’s Song’. He gets really into the history behind certain treatments and different cases. Roman plays Renfield and the others play doctors. 

Virgil is super into Dracula’s castle during ‘Life after life’. He and Roman duet that song wearing all-black. Logan tries to help Patton’s slight fear by telling him the history behind different pieces of architecture.

Patton plays Christine during Phantom of the Opera

Roman, Virgil and Logan sing ‘A story told’ from The Count of Monte Cristo around a circular table in a dimly lit tavern. Patton takes pictures and drinks hot chocolate in the sidelines.

[inawickedlittletown]

People are actually blaming Oliver saying that he’s a pussy for being upset over some dumb 18 year old brat and what she “jokingly” said. But people need to realize that if he weren’t Oliver Stark, actor on Fox’s 911, and he were just Oliver Jones, random British dude who’s hot, somebody calling for him to be “destroyed” would be read as a death threat by authorities. Yes it’s funny to be over dramatic on Twitter/tumblr. “I’m dying” “I cannot” “LITERALLY” slowly turns into “I’m gonna burn someone’s house down” “he better watch his back” “let’s all just utterly destroy him” and those idioms are NOT THE SAME!!! Playful jokes about your ability to exist because of a made up universe that you can’t separate from reality versus calling for the destruction of an actual human because you’re mad about their ACTING JOB is not the same. And yeah she’s some stupid kid saying something stupid. But eventually every stupid kid needs to turn into an educated adult and Oliver was doing that by calling her out and any other fan that is taking this TELEVISION SHOW too seriously. I also left the buddie fandom not too long ago because these girls (and some guys) are literally mentally ill. I feel bad for him. He tried to give them what they claim they wanted but the moment he opened the door they ripped him to shreds and he’s being called too sensitive. He has 450k Instagram followers- I don’t know how many he had on Twitter but if it was anywhere close to that, imagine even HALF (225k) coming at you with “jokes” that call for your demise from so called “number one fans”... I can’t even imagine how he feels right now.

I got caught up on everything yesterday and still reading everything you wrote up there just makes me so angry.

It's insane. Twitter is just a cesspool of people that think anything they say on the bird app is perfectly okay. They don't realize that there is someone on the other end reading everything and seeing everything. There's this lack of humanization for celebrities especially and it's just such a shame because it ruins something good for everyone, but it also straight up hurts people.

And the thing is Oliver has always been active within the fandom. More so than many other actors from other shows and from the 9-1-1 cast. And it was always nice to see how excited he's been about the show and about Buck and even about Buddie, but enough is enough. He used to be a lot more active and cut back for a reason and then every single time he's attempted to interact with fans he just gets attacked.

He needs that break from the vitriol thrown at him for saying anything at all. And anyone that is upset at him for deactivating needs to remember that he is a person with feelings and who has been pretty open about having anxiety and who cares so much about his work and the fans and shouldn't have to then deal with people coming at him over a ship that whether it happens or not is not up to him.

The buddie fandom was not this when I first started being active in it. The lack of respect that is shown to the writers/creators/actors has been insane as well as the way that some fans have been with each other. The thing with Ryan last year and just the way that a lot of these fans are not watching the show for the show but for the ship alone has made it an environment that is frustrating to be around.

But things are toxic and some fans are toxic and this talk about queerbaiting (which this show is not doing...people need to look up their definitions) and obsession over buddie needing to become canon is unhealthy. It is also unfair to the rest of the show and to the actors. It's made me step back quite a bit. There's meta I wanted to write that I just don't even feel inspired to touch. I rather just enjoy the show and keep to my blog and do liveblogs when I watch new episodes because anything else is just tiring.

And I'm so glad that Oliver is taking care of himself and leaving Twitter (for as long as he needs to) because the treatment he's faced is just horrible and not something he needs to see or be around. He's an actor, but a person first and foremost.

[mcmansionhell]

The Brutalism Post Part 3: What is Brutalism? Act 1, Scene 1: The Young Smithsons

What is Brutalism? To put it concisely, Brutalism was a substyle of modernist architecture that originated in Europe during the 1950s and declined by the 1970s, known for its extensive use of reinforced concrete. Because this, of course, is an unsatisfying answer, I am going to instead tell you a story about two young people, sandwiched between two soon-to-be warring generations in architecture, who were simultaneously deeply precocious and unlucky. 

It seems that in 20th century architecture there was always a power couple. American mid-century modernism had Charles and Ray Eames. Postmodernism had Robert Venturi and Denise Scott Brown. Brutalism had Alison and Peter Smithson, henceforth referred to simply as the Smithsons. 

If you read any of the accounts of the Smithsons’ contemporaries (such as The New Brutalism by critic-historian Reyner Banham) one characteristic of the pair is constantly reiterated: at the time of their rise to fame in British and international architecture circles, the Smithsons were young. In fact, in the early 1950s, both had only recently completed architecture school at Durham University. Alison, who was five years younger, was graduating around the same time as Peter, whose studies were interrupted by the Second World War, during which he served as an engineer in India. 

Alison and Peter Smithson. Image via Open.edu

At the time of the Smithsons graduation, they were leaving architecture school at a time when the upheaval the war caused in British society could still be deeply felt. Air raids had destroyed hundreds of thousands of units of housing, cultural sites and had traumatized a generation of Britons. Faced with an end to wartime international trade pacts, Britain’s financial situation was dire, and austerity prevailed in the 1940s despite the expansion of the social safety net. It was an uncertain time to be coming up in the arts, pinned at the same time between a war-torn Europe and the prosperous horizon of the 1950s.   

Alison and Peter married in 1949, shortly after graduation, and, like many newly trained architects of the time, went to work for the British government, in the Smithsons’ case, the London City Council. The LCC was, in the wake of the social democratic reforms (such as the National Health Service) and Keynesian economic policies of a strong Labour government, enjoying an expanded range in power. Of particular interest to the Smithsons were the areas of city planning and council housing, two subjects that would become central to their careers.

Alison and Peter Smithson, elevations for their Soho House (described as “a house for a society that had nothing”, 1953). Image via socks-studio.

The State of British Architecture

 The Smithsons, architecturally, ideologically, and aesthetically, were at the mercy of a rift in modernist architecture, the development of which was significantly disrupted by the war. The war had displaced many of its great masters, including luminaries such as the founders of the Bauhaus: Walter Gropius, Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, and Marcel Breuer. Britain, which was one of the slowest to adopt modernism, did not benefit as much from this diaspora as the US. 

At the time of the Smithsons entry into the architectural bureaucracy, the country owed more of its architectural underpinnings to the British architects of the nineteenth century (notably the utopian socialist William Morris), precedent studies of the influences of classical architecture (especially Palladio) under the auspices of historians like Nikolaus Pevsner, as well as a preoccupation with both British and Scandinavian vernacular architecture, in a populist bent underpinned by a turn towards social democracy. This style of architecture was known as the New Humanism. 

Alton East Houses by the London County Council Department of Architecture (1953-6), an example of New Humanist architecture. Image taken from The New Brutalism by Reyner Banham. 

This was somewhat of a sticky situation, for the young Smithsons who, through their more recent schooling, were, unlike their elders, awed by the buildings and writing of the European modernists. The dramatic ideas for the transformation of cities as laid out by the manifestos of the CIAM (International Congresses for Modern Architecture) organized by Le Corbusier (whose book Towards a New Architecture was hugely influential at the time) and the historian-theorist Sigfried Giedion, offered visions of social transformation that allured many British architects, but especially the impassioned and idealistic Smithsons.

Of particular contribution to the legacy of the development of Brutalism was Le Corbusier, who, by the 1950s was entering the late period of his career which characterized by his use of raw concrete (in his words, béton brut), and sculptural architectural forms. The building du jour for young architects (such as Peter and Alison) was the Unité d’Habitation (1948-54), the sprawling massive housing project in Marseilles, France, that united Le Corbusier’s urban theories of dense, centralized living, his architectural dogma as laid out in Towards a New Architecture, and the embrace of the rawness and coarseness of concrete as a material, accentuated by the impression of the wooden board used to shape it into Corb’s looming, sweeping forms.

The Unité d’habitation by Le Corbusier. Image via Iantomferry (CC BY-SA 4.0)

Little did the Smithsons know that they, mere post-graduates, would have an immensely disruptive impact on the institutions they at this time so deeply admired. For now, the couple was on the eve of their first big break, their ticket out of the nation’s bureaucracy and into the limelight.

 The Hunstanton School

An important post-war program, the one that gave the Smithsons their international debut, was the expansion of the British school system in 1944, particularly the establishment of the tripartite school system, which split students older than 11 into grammar schools (high schools) and secondary modern schools (technical schools). This, inevitably, stimulated a swath of school building throughout the country. There were several national competitions for architects wanting to design the new schools, and the Smithsons, eager to get their hands on a first project, gleefully applied.

For their inspiration, the Smithsons turned to Mies van der Rohe, who had recently emigrated to the United States and release to the architectural press, details of his now-famous Crown Hall of the Illinois Institute of Technology (1950). Mies’ use of steel, once relegated to being hidden as an internal structural material, could, thanks to laxness in the fire code in the state of Illinois, be exposed, transforming into an articulated, external structural material. 

Crown Hall, Illinois Institute of Technology by Mies van der Rohe. Image via Arturo Duarte Jr. (CC BY-SA 3.0)

Of particular importance was the famous “Mies Corner,” consisting of two joined exposed I-beams that elegantly elided inherent problems in how to join together the raw, skeletal framing of steel and the revealing translucence of curtain-wall glass. This building, seen only through photographs by our young architects, opened up within them the possibility of both the modernist expression of a structure’s inherent function, but also as testimony to the aesthetic power of raw building materials as surfaces as well as structure.

The Smithsons, in a rather bold move for such young architects, decided to enter into a particularly contested competition for a new secondary school in Norfolk. They designed a school based on a Miesian steel-framed design of which the structural elements would all be visible. Its plan was crafted to the utmost standards of rationalist economy; its form, unlike the horizontal endlessness of Mies’ IIT, is neatly packaged into separate volumes arranged in a symmetrical way. But what was most important was the use of materials, the rawness of which is captured in the words of Reyner Banham: 

“Wherever one stands within the school one sees its actual structural materials exposed, without plaster and frequently without paint. The electrical conduits, pipe-runs, and other services are exposed with equal frankness. This, indeed, is an attempt to make architecture out of the relationships of brute materials, but it is done with the very greatest self-denying restraint.”

 Much to the upset and shock of the more conservative and romanticist British architectural establishment, the Smithsons’ design won.

Hunstanton School by Alison and Peter Smithson (1949-54). Photos by Anna Armstrong. (CC BY NC-SA 3.0)

The Hunstanton School, had, as much was possible in those days, gone viral in the architectural press, and very quickly catapulted the Smithsons to international fame as the precocious children of post-war Britain. Soon after, the term the Smithsons would claim as their own, Brutalism, too entered the general architectural consciousness. (By the early 1950s, the term was already escaping from its national borders and being applied to similar projects and work that emphasized raw materials and structural expression.)

 The New Brutalism

So what was this New Brutalism? 

The Smithsons had, even before the construction of the Hunstanton School had been finished, begun to draft amongst themselves a concept called the New Brutalism. Like many terms in art, “Brutalism” began as a joke that soon became very serious.  The term New Brutalism, according to Banham, came from an in-joke amongst the Swedish architects Hans Asplund, Bengt Edman and Lennart Holm in 1950s, about drawings the latter two had drawn for a house. This had spread to England through the Swedes’ English friends, the architects Oliver Cox and Graeme Shankland, who leaked it to the Architectural Association and the Architect’s Department of the London County Council, at which Alison and Peter Smithson were still employed. According to Banham, the term had already acquired a colloquial meaning:

“Whatever Asplund meant by it, the Cox-Shankland connection seem to have used it almost exclusively to mean Modern Architecture of the more pure forms then current, especially the work of Mies van der Rohe. The most obstinate protagonists of that type of architecture at the time in London were Alison and Peter Smithson, designers of the Miesian school at Hunstanton, which is generally taken to be the first Brutalist building.”

 (This is supplicated by an anecdote of how the term stuck partially because Peter was called Brutus by his peers because he bore resemblance to Roman busts of the hero, and Brutalism was a joining of “Brutus plus Alison,” which is deeply cute.)

The Smithsons began to explore the art world for corollaries to their raw, material-driven architecture. They found kindred souls in the photographer Nigel Henderson and the sculptor Edouardo Paolozzi, with whom the couple curated an exhibition called “Parallel of Life and Art.” The Smithsons were beginning to find in their work a sort of populism, regarding the untamed, almost anthropological rough textures and assemblies of materials, which the historian Kenneth Frampton jokingly called ‘the peoples’ detailing.’ Frampton described the exhibit, of which few photographs remain, as thus:

“Drawn from news photos and arcane archaeological, anthropological, and zoological sources, many of these images [quoting Banham] ‘offered scenes of violence and distorted or anti-aesthetic views of the human figure, and all had a coarse grainy texture which was clearly regarded by the collaborators as one of their main virtues’. There was something decidedly existential about an exhibition that insisted on viewing the world as a landscape laid waste by war, decay, and disease – beneath whose ashen layers one could still find traces of life, albeing microscopic, pulsating within the ruins…the distant past and the immediate future fused into one. Thus the pavilion patio was furnished not only with an old wheel and a toy aeroplane but also with a television set. In brief, within a decayed and ravaged (i.e. bombed out) urban fabric, the ‘affluence’ of a mobile consumerism was already being envisaged, and moreover welcomed, as the life substance of a new industrial vernacular.”

Alison and Peter Smithson, Nigel Henderson, Eduoardo Paolozzi, Parallels in Life and Art. Image via the Tate Modern, 2011.

A Clash on the Horizon 

The Smithsons, it is important to remember, were part of a generation both haunted by war and tantalized by the car and consumer culture of the emerging 1950s. Ideologically they were sandwiched between the twilight years of British socialism and the allure of a consumerist populism informed by fast cars and good living, and this made their work and their ideology rife with contradiction and tension. 

The tension between proletarian, primitivist, anthropological elements as expressed in coarse, raw, materials and the allure of the technological utopia dreamed up by modernists a generation earlier, combined with the changing political climate of post-war Britain, resulted in a mix of idealism and post-socialist thought. This hybridized an new school appeal to a better life -  made possible by technology, the emerging financial accessibility of consumer culture, the promises of easily replicable, luxurious living promised by modernist architecture - with the old-school, quintessentially British populist consideration for the anthropological complexity of urban, working class life. This is what the Smithsons alluded to when they insisted early on that Brutalism was an “ethic, not an aesthetic.”

Model of the Plan Voisin for Paris by Le Corbusier displayed at the Nouveau Esprit Pavilion (1925) via Wikipedia (CC BY-SA 4.0)

By the time the Smithsons entered the international architectural scene, their modernist forefathers were already beginning to age, becoming more stylistically flexible, nuanced, and less reliant upon the strictness and ideology of their previous dogmas. The younger generation, including the Smithsons, were, in their rose-tinted idealism, beginning to feel like the old masters were abandoning their original ethos, or, in the case of other youngsters such as the Dutch architect Aldo van Eyck, were beginning to question the validity of such concepts as the Plan Voisin, Le Corbusier’s urbanist doctrine of dense housing development surrounded by green space and accessible by the alluring future of car culture. 

These youngsters were beginning to get to know each other, meeting amongst themselves at the CIAM – the International Congresses of Modern Architecture – the most important gathering of modernist architects in the world. Modern architecture as a movement was on a generational crash course that would cause an immense rift in architectural thought, practice, and history. But this is a tale for our next installment.

Like many works and ideas of young people, the nascent New Brutalism was ill-formed; still feeling for its niche beyond a mere aesthetic dominated by the honesty of building materials and a populism trying to reconcile consumerist technology and proletarian anthropology. This is where we leave our young Smithsons: riding the wave of success of their first project as a new firm, completely unaware of what is to come: the rift their New Brutalism would tear through the architectural discourse both then and now.

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[oh-for-fic-sake]

The Neighbors Son

You meet your new neighbors son.

Masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, Mature-ish, angst

A/n: so this is the start of my Clark Kent Imagine series that will sort of run alongside my Bruce Wayne ones, I re-wrote this about eight times so hope you like the final result as for the health insurance I'm British so have no idea how it works I just went along the lines of how car insurance works here.

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters​ @thatgirly81​

The Neighbors Son

Martha chuckled as you sat at her kitchen table grumbling over the papers in front of you.

"You do you lot have to do things so weird?! What the hell is this shit ?And what the fuck does that word even mean. Its not a word that's the fucking alphabet in the wrong order! THEY MADE UP NEW WORDS Martha can you take me out back and shoot me please? At this point I think that's my only option" You grunted resting your head on the table. Martha sighed rolling her eyes at your dramatic display you felt her slip the paper from underneath your head.

"Just whats gotten you so work up now girl..... Health insurance? Well its about damn time! You've been here four months .....I can see why this can seem difficult." She scanned the documents and slapped the side of your head making you sit up.

"Come on up, right this one is the best value but doesn't cover dental or opticians, so you have to pay for them, but it covers illness and emergancey care, if you choose the next one up you’ll get that and it also covers for maternity care." She pointed out the different options, you knew that you’d been lucky in England to have the nhs but until now you didn't know just how lucky.

"Can I upgrade? Like at a later date if I wanna have a one?" The older woman scanned the documents.

"Yes but you wont be able to claim anything for prenatal or maternity for at least six months after adding it to the policy." You nodded you didn't really see yourself accidentally falling pregnant for that you'd need to have sex and you've been on a dry spell since being here. You nodded taking the paper from her."So I will just do that then"  you said wanting it over and done with she sighed at you crossing her arms giving you 'the look' that every woman got when she became a mother."How many have you looked at?" You shrunk under her stern gaze and rubbed the back of your neck nervously.

"Errr so far? In total? One" she sighed shaking her head at you, before pouring you both another coffee setting it in front of you,she hadn't realized how lonley she had been once the farm house across the field had been empty not until you had moved in, all the way from England you had bought the house with your inheritance selling most of the fields to others in the area just keeping a small two acres around the house for yourself. She had met you the day you moved in coming over to introduce herself see if you needed help, you both instantly hit it off and it wasn't long before she was looking out for you. It was hard for you to adjust to life here, loosing your dad was bad but she then found out that your mother had caused major problems practically chasing you out of the country, the woman had been unhappy with the will and wanted her 'half' tho it wasn't millions it was enough for you to live comfortably in the end you'd had to move as she kept coming around to the house causing problems and harassing you for money, you'd had to get away far away so settled in Kansas. It was different but a welcome change, slower and laid back sure sometimes you missed not being in the Hustle and bustle but you had everything you need, a comfy house ,decent car and an income from your books, you was an author writing adult books, tales of gorgeous cowboys, dominant business men and mafia king pin's all falling in love with the women of their dreams with erotic twists and scenes that would make a porn star blush. Martha had been a huge help since you got here ,she had taken you under her wing watching over you and you'd become fast friends, always finding yourselves at each others houses helping each other out. You groaned as she shook her head at you knowing the look. There was a lecture coming.

"That’s just silly, you should look around compare prices and policies, it could save you a lot of money in the long run, especially you i mean your a trouble magnet how you haven't already ended up in ER I don't know?" You smiled sweetly at her

"Because a have a kind and loving neighbor to patch me up" you said casting a look to the scar on your arm where she had sewed you up after a nasty fall on some farming equipment in the barn. She huffed at you rolling her eyes kids. And you was a kid only twenty seven years old younger then her Clark, sometimes she asked you why you don't go into town and meet some people your age you'd always cringe and shiver saying that they were to immature or just banged on about marriage and kids, which neither interested you in the slightest you were quite happy with things the way they were. Martha looked up as the dog perked up outside whining and yipping happily before she heard him

"Ma? You here?" She smiled as he entered the house wrapping her up in his arms she hugged him back.

"Clark? What are you doing here?"  She pulled back a little seeing him upset she cupped his face.

"Oh god whats wrong? Is everything okay? Whats happened?"

"Its Lois...we had an argument I had to leave her Ma, its over she couldn't see past the super-" Martha quickly shushed him as You stood awkwardly thinking it better to leave not wanting to intrude. The man snapped his head in your direction releasing his mum and you were floored he was stunning, sure she had showed you photos of her son but they didn't do any justice. Tall broad and strong his biceps were fucking huge his chest tapered into a perfect v, dark hair hanging in messy curls atop his head some falling forward just skimming his eyes that were a glistening bright blue you felt your pussy clench violently. Fuck. You was so lost that you failed to notice him staring right back at you it was Martha clearing her throat that snapped you both out of what ever trance you'd both been put you under.

"Cheers for the coffee but I should get back and leave two to catch up, anyway this next chapter isn't gonna write itself..... at this point I don't think I’m gonna write it either." You said with a chuckle Martha turned to you putting her hands on her hips.

"Oh no you don't, your going park you butt right there and stay here to search other quotes" you gaped at her looking to her son he held up his hands staying out of it.

"Don't you go looking to him,he wont help you" you huffed crossing your arms

"Did you just give me homework? It sounds like you gave me home work." She nodded

"Damn right, health insurance is a big deal and you don't just pick the first one that pop's up on the internet" you pouted at her trying to change her mind she just stared you down tilting her head then you threw your hands up.

"Oh for fuck sake, fine I will look Jesus Christ" she nodded smiling not missing the way you and Clark was stealing glances at one another, well you stole glances Clark was out right staring. She slapped him upside the head.

"Don’t be rude son introduce yourself" he stuttered shyly flushing at being scolded before holding out a hand towards you quickly.

"Er Clark Kent nice to meet you Mrs?" You took his hand not surprised by how warm it was I mean this guy was hot, it only made sense right?.

"Miss Y/n Y/L/N but just call me Y/n everyone does....apart from your mum she calls me 'a pain in the ass'" he chuckled

"Then we already have something in common" you laughed as Martha motioned for you both to sit at the table smiling knowingly, she saw how Clark couldn't look away how the sorrow in his eyes disappeared as he looked at you. Clark couldn't tear his eyes away from you he gulped eyes raking over your form his mouth gone dry speechless. Wow. You was very attractive like you walked out of one of his fantasies, a tiny homely looking girl light tan with deep chocolate wavy hair in a short bob twisted in a half up do, tiny bun in the back with a few loose strands framing your small face that had a dusting of freckles from being out in the sun, tho he guessed that some were more permanent as they didn'tstop on your face trailing down into you blouse, his breathing hitched as his eyes couldn't help peeking seeing the tops of you breasts spilling over the cups of your bra as you slouched over the table barely resting your elbow on it due to how small you was. His cock twitched you were very tiny the top of your head didn't even reach the top of his chest, he estimated you to be around four foot nine maybe four foot ten he grunted a little, he did have a thing for smaller women, he loved that he towered over average sized women but you were like his dream girl,fuck if he didn't want to fold you in half and fuck you senseless. His pants tightened at the thought, he bet you'd struggle to take him but given the chance he would find a way to impale you forcing your little body to take every punishing inch he grunted a quietly his stomach clenching. He quickly pulled his eyes away before either you would notice trying to calm his slightly ragged breaths this wasn't like him at all, he had been raised a gentleman but sitting here he felt anything but. Drawing his eyes up to yours. Incredible, he got many compliments for his eye but yours were something else, one a light brown honey colour the other was the brightest green he had ever seen, like someone had captured an emerald with in it, he swallowed dryly again becoming hot under the collar twitching in his pants as he continued to assess you. He wasn't sure what you was doing in his Mothers house but he had no complaints whatsoever.

"S-so Y/n your not from around here." his voice cracked a little as he spoke you shook your head at him a little uncomfortable as Martha pottered about the kitchen busying herself with making a fresh pot of coffee, you moved to help her but she just shook her head at you.

"No I moved here four months ago from England, your mum has been helping me get settled, America is a lot weirder than I had initially thought" you giggled a little nervously crossing your legs trying to fight off the building tension between your thighs, it wasn't every day you sat across for a delicious looking male, already picturing him as the main character in your next book with the amount of fantasies you were sure to come you'd probably have enough material for a whole series. He grit his teeth a little as his cock jumped at the melodious sound of your voice and thick southern British accent, he wouldn't admit but your voice had now become his favorite sound of all, imagining just how high he could get it if you ever gave him a chance.

"Wow that’s pretty far, and you chose Smallville why not one of the big cities?" He asked as Martha walked across the kitchen washing up some dishes in the sink, you frowned she never did that when you was here, she was up to something.

"Well Gotham didn't look to promising and I couldn't find anything in metropolis, I didn't have much time to move and when I saw the farm house I thought why not and bought it now I'm just  across the field from your mum. I might get a small place in the city at some point but right now I'm quite happy here"

"You haven't even been to metropolis yet and your already thinking of buying a place there? shouldn't you check it out first? Maybe you could show her around when she does visit Clark? Take her to see the sights she'd like that? Wouldn't you y/n?" Your jaw sort of hung open....was she trying to set you up with her son? You chuckled nervously seeing the smirk on the other woman face.

"Oh Martha he's probably busy-"

"No! No I'm not, I'm not busy at all!.....I-I mean sure I could to show you around." He interrupted you then flushed, Martha shook her head the boy wouldn't know sublty if it bit him on the ass. You blushed sipping more of your coffee.

"Well if your sure... but I need to finish my book I've already postponed the release date once, don't think the publisher will like another one" he smiled as his mother set down a cup and fresh coffee pot he refilled everyone's cups as she took a seat at the head of the table sitting back watching you both fumble around your words blushing and stuttering, there was definitely something going on here and she was a little smug and had a feeling she was going to enjoy this next bit.

"Your a writer? What do you write?" You blushed bright at his question. Oh shit.

"Haha Yeah, well I sort of write books, fiction"

"I don't think I've heard of you tho?" you looked down going beet red your pussy dampening your panties at the idea of him lying back in his bed reading one of your raunchy books.

"I use an alias so I don't get any backlash" he looked a little surprised but it wasn't uncommon even some journalists did this mostly if the do honest reviews of shops and services

"Oh so what type of fiction do you write children's books?" You flushed more at his innocence looking to Martha who was snickering quietly to herself. She was going to be no help here whatsoever.

"No..Not children's books...My stuff is more...Mature" you desperately looked to Martha eyes screaming. Help me!. poor Clark tilted his head a little not understanding why you seemed to be getting so embarrassed

"Oh for teens then?" his mother finally cracked up laughing out right at the face you pulled at him deciding to put an end to to sorry affair, it was painful to watch.

"Oh for god-She writes porn Clark! Erotica, Adult fantasies" Clark spat his coffee not ready for that at all, coughing and spluttering,you got up quickly just dodging the drink sprayed in your direction.

"MARTHA!..Oh shit are you okay big guy?" Patting to poor mans back as Martha sat there sipping her coffee smirking into her cup.

"What? Like I'm wrong? we'd be here all day if I'd let that pan out" You flushed at her words as he finally caught his breath before you sat back down and sunk in your seat mortified she just came out and said it.

"Ah okay then wow I didn't expect that....I mean you look so cute...Not that I don't think you can be sexy and cute cos you are shit I mean er what do I mean?...Its just not what I'd have thought you'd write....But there's nothing wrong with that, I imagine its quite hard NO!no not hard...Not that its easy that's not what I meant just that it would be hard-Difficult! difficult it would be difficult to write." Martha laughed out loud having the time of her life as you both flushed bright red, Clark was trying to talk himself out of his own embarrassment, you on the other hand just Blinked at him as he had a melt down so red he looked like his head was going to pop, finally taking pity on him you interrupted his babbling.

"Its okay...I get what you mean...Sometimes its... Difficult but you just you know keep at it..." Martha smiled oh yes you two definitely liked each other, now if only she could find a way to set you up together. An awkward silence fell over the kitchen as you fiddled with your cup a little and Clark trying to look anywhere but you failing miserably, she decided to have some mercy and change the subject and let you know that he was available all at once.

"So you and Lois are over for good this time?" You leaned back in your seat watching his face drop you couldn't help feel sorry for him.

"Yeah, she just kept pushing, wanting me to be someone I'm not, to play that part all the time I'm sick of it! it started got to the point I no longer had any choice, I'd do what ever for a quiet life even if it made me unhappy" Martha sighed at him she had seen this coming for a long time but had to step back and let him figure it out for himself.

"Clark I'm sorry things didn't work out I really am but she would never be satisfied until everything went her way you knew that"he nodded solemnly sighing you could tell who ever this Lois was had meant the world to him.

"I think I knew deep down she wasn't the one, I just thought if I carried on, if I stuck with it she would see how it was effecting me and change just a little for my sake. Just like I did for her you know?"

"She was never going to son, in her eyes you had become what she wanted so she didn't have to change at all but she forgot the most important thing in a relationship that's its give and take she forgot to be what you needed" Martha held his hand  he sighed looking at her nodding.

"Well this happened just over three weeks ago and she is still carrying on like we are together, like nothings changed! showing up at my apartment when she feels like it and throwing a fit when i don't let her in and is telling everyone I'm her date to this party now I'm stuck, I don't want to go with her but if I go alone then she's going corner me." he sounded exhausted and fed up and slightly bitter towards this woman and with good reason you knew how this type of thing could were on someone, you'd seen it first hand growing up.

"Party? what Party?" he waved his hand at his Mothers question

"A staff party celebrating another award and I don't want to go alone, if I do I know I will end up going back to her I really don't want to. So need to find someone else but there is no one shes still letting everyone think we're together! and none of them want to be on her bad side. I just need a woman to pretend to be my girlfriend for one night"

"Now Clark that's not fair on whoever you take, your a handsome boy and anyone you take might really like you it could crush them if they find out your using them. You can't use one women to prove a point to your ex it isnt right your father and I raised you better then that." You interrupted before she could lay into him anymore.

"I can understand what he is getting at tho, sorry to interrupt and if I'm being out of line tell me, but she sounds like my Mother, relationships are give and take, you can't just take and take and expect your other half to put up with it, Clark if you need someone to go with you to make it clear your finished with her I will go with you, no strings attached or hard feelings but women who think everything should revolve and change around them and their needs really fucks me off!! especially when they pull that shit on a sweet genuine person, in the end these women just destroy the men their with. I don't know you very well but Martha raised you so you can't be that bad and that's enough for me." You hissed some of the words it was like your parents all over again. Your mother was spoilt and selfish always demanding that your father change the way he was for her, you had watched as he had given up everything for her but it was never enough, he had to play a part and it ate away at him for years sending him into a deep depression, yet she never did anything in return or tried to help him. In the end, you at seven years old had found him trying to commit suicide. The thought of you being the one to find his body was what broke the camel's back he threw her out the next day then tried divorcing her but she wouldn't sign the papers so instead they remained separated she had nothing so you was left in your dads care, he was happier then ever but the damage had been done he never found anyone else, she hung around every few months trying to weasel her way back in missing the money more than her family, when she didn't get her way she tried to destroy any happiness he found. Luckily he had sense enough to rewrite his will and piddle away the money in the account he had left to her his final fuck you to her was when the executor of the will read out that you was left with the car, house and just over seven hundred and eighty thousand pounds the housekeeper Susanna was left the holiday home in Devon and forty thousand pounds and your mother well she got twenty nine pound sixty seven pence and was aloud to have the expensive china that the Susanna had been instructed to smash after his passing....Yeah your dad was a bastard but it was funny as fuck. That’s why you had to leave she kept coming to the house harassing you for money. The restraining order hadn't worked so you decided to move you had the means to do it so went for it, she would never find you here and couldn't use the fact shes your mother to find you because you wasn't a minor the cherry on top the account that your dad was leaving for your mother was what he used to pay for your college and university. Martha sighed knowing why you got so wound up and you was right Lois was similar to your mother.

"You'd do that? Really?" You nodded to him smiling

"Absolutely I ain't afraid of no American.... apart from your mum shes scary as fuck, but seriously I can handle anything she tries to throw at me and you can show me around town while your at it, I'm guessing its in metropolis? when is it?" Martha sat back a little stumped turns out she wont have to set you two up after all.

"Err Its this Saturday ,you sure you want to come what about your book?" you waved him off

"Its fine Clark I can bring my laptop and work on it in the hotel" he nodded grinning wide suddenly excited about this next week then faltered.

"Don't bother booking a hotel you can stay with me for the week after all your doing me a huge favor its the least I can do to repay you" he chose to ignore his mothers raised brow. She had a few guesses at exactly how he was planning to pay you back and she doubted it was just going to be bed and breakfast.... probably breakfast in bed if the looks he gave you were anything to go by, not that she minded you would be a better fit for him anyway. Call it mothers intuition but she got the feeling that Clark would be around a little more now that you were just across the field.

"Oh no I couldn't! a hotel would be fine"

"I insist I would love nothing more then to have you to myself for the week" Martha tried to bite back a laugh, she never realized how cheesy her son was trying to flirt, no wonder he didn't have much success but she could see you fall for it hook line and sinker as you flushed squirming in your seat a little, he smirked at you from across the table getting more confident, he liked to think that he had already caught you. Prick he new exactly what he was doing as he leaned back man spreading, making your walls clench.

"You could spend the week ,we can catch a train tomorrow afternoon if you like, be back in time for dinner there's a nice diner near my apartment" you nodded a little suddenly feeling like one of the women in your books flustered heart racing a mile a minute as the man of your dreams offers to take you away from the boring daily routine. The question was were you brave enough to follow through with it, hell you'd moved to the other side of the world on a snap decision, spending a week alone with a drop dead gorgeous man should be a breeze, it didn't take long to decide giving him a shy smile nodding as you had butterflies in your tummy. His face lit up

"Great I will check the train times It's Sunday service but there should still be some in the afternoon"

"Perfect! I should go and pack then I suppose,Martha if I leave a key here could you watch the house for me and feed the fish when I'm gone" she nodded quickly excited but anxious at the same time, hoping that you would hit it off with Clark but at the same time apprehensive about how fast you was going, after all you only just met, but you were both adults and could handle yourselves and she knew you'd be safe with him.

"Oh is it formal or what?"

"Oh yes, its theme is Hollywood glam"

"Oooo I've got the perfect dress, any way I'm off and will see you both tomorrow be back around eleven tomorrow morning?" he stood nodding walking you to the door making you swoon inside as he opened the door above you reminding you just how big he was, a gentle giant.

"I-I'll see you tomorrow then Clark" he leaned down to your ear whispering

"Can't wait, sweet dream's Y/n I know mine will be" you gasped as he pulled away winking chuckling at your hot cheeks, he could have a lot of fun making you blush he decided as you turned quickly scampering down the stairs away from the house towards yours, who's roof you could barely see over the crops from this distance. He stayed there leaning on the door frame arms crossed groaning watching your ass sway as you made your way into the brakes in the crops what the tractors used to get across the field disappearing into the high crops.

"So you like her then?" he jumped back bumping into the door frame making it creak a little at his mothers sudden appearance, she giggled folding the tea towel in her hands.

"Wow you must have taken a shine to her if your so mesmerized by her or more specifically her backside, that I can sneak up on you,I haven't been able to do that since you were a little boy." he chuckled embarrassed that she'd caught him staring

"Not that I think you would but Clark? don't play with her feelings okay? shes a good kid and had it tough over the past few years and she doesn't need a heart break on top of everything else" he snapped his head to his mom.

"Ma you know I wouldn't-" she fixed him with a look

"You just admitted in there that you was going to use some poor girl to make a point to Lois and I'm telling you now if you hurt her I wont be impressed"

"I wouldn't do that to her, I wont hurt her I promise, but I would like to get to know her more...see if we could you know" she smiled softly at him

"I'm just saying your a handsome man and she could fall for you easily, don't use her as a rebound." he sighed she had a point but after seeing you all thoughts of Lois died.

"I like her Ma do you-do you think maybe she could like me to? this time have a relationship with me, get to know Clark Kent before Superman? that Clark could be enough this time?" that made her pause clenching the cloth in her hands twisting it, there was something in the way he said that, so unsure and hopeless she fumed inside his confidence was knocked she felt like she was speaking to the shy beaten down preteen he once was. He truly believed that Clark Kent wasn't good enough anymore and there was only one person to blame for that,it was with those words she realized that Lois had hurt him and hurt him bad, she sighed pulling him down kissing his cheek then cupped his cheeks making him look her in the eye.

"Now you listen to me and you listen well. You are good enough and you are loved, I don't know what Lois has put into your head, and for her safety I don't think I should know, but you forget it right this instant! you hear me?" he nodded a little still unsure as Martha searched his eyes for a little glimmer of confidence but her heart clenched when she couldn't find any, that confidence from earlier must have been false bravado. Lois was lucky she wasn't going to metropolis herself she's probably kill her for hurting her baby, tho she's sure Y/n was going to rip her apart in her stead it was a pity she wouldn't be there to see it.

"I think Y/n is already smitten with you and that you'd be good for one another. I've only known her four months but She doesn't try to be anything she's not, she takes people as she sees them and doesn't have time for all the games other women play its why we get along so well. And as a side note she has never reacted like that to any one else's attempts at flirting trust me there have been quite a few try when we've been out and she shut them down....Quite brutally now that I think of it. But if your serious about her give it your all I don't think you will be disappointed I think you'd be a good match." she wiped under his eye as they welled a little with unshed tears.

"Y-you really think she could like me?" he asked in a small voice.

"There’s no doubt in my mind that she already does, you think she'd agree to spend a week with you if she didn't? Honestly if you both hadn't made plans I was going to play matchmaker myself. Now why don't you go have a cold shower? and I can start on dinner"

"Cold shower?"

"You think I haven't notice your problem?" he flushed laughing wiping at his eyes and pulling his top down a little trying to cover the tent in his pants as she walked back into the house patting his back.

"Oh shit! You think she notice to?!" his mother laughed shrugging

"Who knows I mean she was checking you out to" as she entered the kitchen he stood there dumbfounded

"What Are you sure? I didn't notice"

"You wouldn't your a man, now go have a shower you are not eating at the table like that" he groaned shaking his head closing the front door making his way up the stairs to the bathroom.