#and clearly there is an audience for elliot

[silent-partner-412]

i feel like i’d get lynched by the stardew fanbase for saying this but i do not like elliot at all. i don’t like his design, i don’t like the way he speaks, i don’t like his heart events, i just do not like him. he comes off as so pretentious and annoying, easily the weakest of the main game marriage candidates for me. i’m always so surprised by how many people are like omg he’s so sweet and romantic and the screenshot they post to accompany it is the most flowery faux-poetic bullshit i’ve ever seen

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

In response to the Mile High Job post, I hate that Parker implies that poor flight attendant slept her way to a promotion/better shift. Her day is super weird but her cat is fine and her life is saved. That rumor, however, might stick and that didn't really feel like Leverage to me.

Agreed!

The thing with Leverage is that it's a show from the late 2000s; it feels contemporary, but actually it is a bit dated. And, like all shows, it had some problematic elements, which get a bit more Obviously Problematic as time goes by (I am just waiting for someone to write a lengthy call-out post in 5 years' time and for the Discourse to start.) For example, Tumblr loves to declare that Leverage has a "canon" throuple, but if anyone read that and then watched the show they would be profoundly disappointed - while it's a fantastic ship with a great many shippy instances, Elliot has a lot of onscreen No Homo moments, and frequently is shown sleeping with random women (I personally read him as aromantic). Similarly, there are two big relationships in that show: Nate/Sophie, and Parker/Hardison. And we all wax lyrical about the brilliance of Parker/Hardison and how healthy it is, and for good reason; but we gloss over how unbearably "I hate my wife/father I cannot click the book" Boomer humour Nate/Sophie is.

(He literally calls her a shrew in one episode. She throws a tantrum and sulks if he doesn't remember the exact details of how/where they met. She's stereotypically 'romantic' and he's stereotypically 'cynical' and she has to Save Him From Himself, and he self-deprecatingly says he should just know when to stop arguing because she's always right. Like... it is a grubby and uncomfortable dynamic; but, it's also aimed at a different segment of the audience that is older than me, and that's okay, actually. It just means I don't much care for the ship myself.)

Anyway, this is one other such instance. Clearly someone in the writers' room thought that was a funny joke, and not enough people disagreed, and so in it went. What's nice is that Sandi McCree, who plays the other flight attendant that stays on the plane, actually kind of saves that joke for me with her performance. When Parker first boards and declares that her co-worker is not coming in, McCree looks disgruntled at the sudden change to her staff list when she wasn't informed; she's annoyed at management. Then Parker makes the sleeping-with-pilots comment, and McCree looks disgusted and furious -

An expression she then pulls at Parker every time she sees her for the rest of the episode, even when Parker is technically not doing anything particularly weird. It's not necessarily intentional on McCree's part (Parker IS very weird in this episode, so it very much can be a response to that), but to me it means you can read it as "This woman is absolutely furious at the lateral sexism of this white girl because We Love And Support Each Other On This Plane." So, for me, between that and the aforementioned revelations of the day (the plane was brought down by the domestic terrorists of a Fortune 500 company, but saved by... a few unexplained Official People who snuck aboard??? And the other flight attendant was made to miss the plane after all under mysterious circumstances and was not promoted??? What???), I don't think Sandi McCree's character wouldn't put those pieces together.

[docholligay]

So i took a bunch of these because @rhiorhino was intertested in talking about the fashion on display for Benoit versus Elliot, and I love to talk about clothing choices and how they function as a form of communication, so I was going to talk about how WELL Benoit's suit fits him, how it's clearly been pressed etc. BUT, even more than that, we can see how benoit's outfit has been used to subtly suggest that he is from another time. They don't, well some would call it overdoing it, I feel differently because I prefer an older and more formal mode of dress, but they don't put the boy in a full three piece. But even within that, we see that his outfit trends older. there's a sharper point on his collar, and it is starched. he has a pocket square. AND, I was about to criticize that his suspenders were done too far in the front, but of course that's intentional, because we are MEANT to see them.

The movie WANTS us to note that Benoit is a man out of time, but it does not want to be too overt about it. Belts became popularized for American men broadly post-WWI, for a number of reasons, but one being that a nipped in belt will draw attention to the waist and make one's chest look broader, leading to a more masculine shape, assuming you're pairing it with well structured clothes. It's a good cheat. I use it myself. Anyway. So, this is throwing us back to an older time, without making the audience TOO aware of it.

leading us to the hilarious Susan B ANthony dollar, so not only is he a man out of time, but a man that is basically a collector's item, out of circulation. Of course he carries that around because he respects women he is a man from another time. The last of the Gentleman Sleuths, if you will

[chrismcleaneatspants]

How do you feel knowing Total Drama might now be cancelled and not getting another season due to the studio producing it going bankrupt now?

Ok let's get a few things out of the way because I've been hearing a bunch a stuff about this lately

1. Fresh TV's fate has yet to be addressed by anyone we know working or previously worked at the studio. Anyone can say anything on Reddit, and while Terry's tweet did suggest that Fresh was likely affected by the dismal state of western animation as an industry, no one has been able to back up the claim Fresh has been shut down entirely. For what it's worth, the websites for both Fresh and sister company Elliot Animation are still up and running, which tells me that someone is probably still there. As such, I will continue to assume Fresh still exists until a public statement has been made on the matter.

2. A season 3 was likely never in the cards. The revival show was greenlit under previous WB leadership, and didn't release until after WB's merger with Discovery. As Terry said himself, they were commissioned for two 13 episode seasons and nothing more. He did suggest that the show could get a 3rd season if it did well, but tbh since new leadership had taken over before the show released, I think the decision to only have the two seasons was already predetermined.

With all this in mind, the show has been basically cancelled before. Between 2016 and 2018, no new Total Drama material was released, and it took 9 years for the regular format to return. The franchise might return someday, there's clearly a dedicated audience for it, but things might be too chaotic for it at this very moment to keep the momentum going, so now it's just kind of a waiting game.

Personally, while I love the revival cast, season 2 left me in such a sour mood that I kinda didn't feel like finding out what a round 3 with these characters would have been like, but this show does still mean a lot to me at the end of the day, and I probably still would have watched a 3rd season anyways because the reboot cast is still entertaining regardless of writing quality.

Ultimately, however, i just feel bad for the people involved, and I hope they'll all be able to find work still in these trying times and carry on showing the world their masterful talent.

[wittyandobsessed]

𝐌𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐬

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 ✓ OK SO FOR PSYCH! I would like to humbly request a faux triangle. Shawn and the reader have a moment that is or isn’t (dealers choice) romantic but either way looks romantic in the interrogation room and who was in the observation room? You guessed it! CARLTON LASSITER! He’s mad because he thought he and the reader had been flirting for a while and had even planned on finally stepping out of his rigid and freezing comfort zone. He, surprisingly, doesn’t immediately react. Instead he broods until the reader confronts him in the shooting range. “Unlike what Spencer may tell you, I’m head detective for a reason, I notice things” he says almost like he’s having an imaginary argument in his head. With love-Anon

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Carlton Lassiter x Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | none.

▸ Masterlist

𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱! 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿!

The fluorescent lights above hummed softly, casting a cold, pale glow over the interrogation room. Across the scratched metal table, the suspect—Elliot Finch, a nervous man with sweat glistening on his forehead—shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable.

Shawn Spencer leaned back, hands resting behind his head, a smug grin on his face—the look of someone who had just won a game only he knew he was playing.

"And that, folks," he declared, tilting his head as if addressing an invisible audience, "is how you get a confession using nothing but charm, quick thinking, and just a hint of psychic magic."

The uniformed officers standing beside Finch exchanged a glance, muttered something about paperwork, then pulled him to his feet and led him out. The door clicked shut behind them.

Behind the two-way mirror, Carlton Lassiter let out a sharp breath.

nother case closed, another one of Spencer’s absurd tricks that, somehow, had actually worked. He reached for the door, ready to walk away—until your voice made him pause.

Inside the room, you leaned against the table, arms crossed, your gaze fixed on Shawn with something dangerously close to admiration. Lassiter felt an uncomfortable twist in his stomach at the sight.

"Alright, I give up," you sighed, shaking your head.

Shawn grinned like he had been waiting for this moment.

"How the hell did you do that?" you asked, still struggling to wrap your head around what had just happened.

Through the glass, Lassiter watched as Spencer leaned forward, tapping his temple with two fingers, his face a mask of exaggerated mysticism.

"Ah," Shawn said, voice dripping with theatrical importance. "You see, I was visited by the Spirit of Truth, who whispered in my ear—"

"Shawn." Your tone was flat, unamused.

He gasped, clutching his chest. "What? I can’t help it. It’s a gift!"

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t quite hide the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips.

Lassiter exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. He should have walked away. He should have ignored this ridiculous exchange. But instead, he found himself lingering, jaw tight, watching the way you looked at Spencer like he had just pulled off an impossible miracle.

And damn it, that feeling in his stomach wasn’t going away.

Shawn tilted his head, eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned a little closer. "Admit it," he said, voice light and teasing. "You're impressed."

You scoffed, arms still crossed. "Please, Spencer. I’ve seen you pull off crazier stunts."

"But this one was particularly dazzling," he pressed, inching closer. "The way I read him like an open book, the way I used my highly refined psychic abilities—"

"You tricked him into confessing with a lucky guess and a well-placed dramatic pause."

"Details," Shawn waved a hand dismissively, his other elbow casually resting on the table. Then, without warning, his fingers reached out and twirled a strand of your hair around them. "Now, what do we have here? A stress curl? Are you flustered by my sheer genius?"

You smacked his hand away, but not before he managed to tug playfully at the strand.

"Flustered? Hardly," you shot back. "But you seem awfully touchy today, Spencer. Something you wanna confess?"

His grin widened. "I confess that I am simply an affectionate person."

You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched with the hint of a smile. Your fingers, almost instinctively, reached out and brushed against his arm. It was meant to be a casual shove, but your hand lingered longer than intended, grazing the firm muscle beneath his sleeve.

Shawn waggled his eyebrows. "Oh, well, hello there. If I knew this interrogation would turn into a ‘feel Shawn’s biceps’ session, I would’ve worn a tighter shirt."

You scoffed. "Trust me, it’s not that impressive."

He gasped in mock offense. "Excuse you, I’ll have you know these are premium detective biceps, sculpted through years of intense… pointing at things dramatically."

"Uh-huh," you murmured, giving his arm another quick squeeze. "Feels more like years of lifting pineapple smoothies."

"Still counts."

You shook your head, laughing under your breath, while Shawn’s fingers found their way back to your hair, brushing it back with an exaggerated gentleness.

And behind the glass, Lassiter felt like he was going to be sick.

His grip on the door handle tightened as he watched you lean just a little closer, as Spencer’s touch lingered, as the two of you danced around each other with infuriating ease.

That feeling in his stomach had sharpened into something almost painful.

He should have walked away. He should have left the room five minutes ago.

But instead, he stayed, jaw clenched, watching—boiling.

Juliet pushed open the door to the observation room, pausing mid-step when she caught sight of Lassiter. His jaw was clenched so tightly she was surprised he hadn’t cracked a tooth, and his hands were balled into fists at his sides. The air around him practically sizzled with barely restrained frustration.

"Lassiter?" she asked carefully. "Are you alright?"

His glare stayed fixed on the two of you inside the interrogation room, where Shawn had just tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering longer than necessary.

Juliet’s gaze followed his, and it took her exactly two seconds to understand.

Oh.

Before she could say anything, Lassiter suddenly spun on his heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind him so hard it rattled the walls.

Inside the interrogation room, you and Shawn both jolted at the sudden noise.

"Whoa!" Shawn blinked at the door, then turned to you, wide-eyed. "Did we just anger a ghost? Because that felt very ‘vengeful spirit on the loose.’"

You frowned, glancing toward the two-way mirror. 

Juliet let out a long-suffering sigh from behind the glass, crossing her arms. She had seen this coming a mile away.

She knew Lassiter had a thing for you.

She also knew Shawn was the kind of guy who had no concept of personal space, who draped himself over people like an overgrown cat, who made friendly affection look like something more, even when it wasn’t.

The shift was immediate.

Lassiter had never been the warmest guy in the department, but at least with you, he had always been… different. Sure, he was strict and no-nonsense, but you had come to appreciate that about him. He was direct, unwavering, and dedicated to the job. And you? You had somehow managed to carve out a space where he was a little less severe, a little less rigid—where his sharp edges softened just enough.

But now? Now it felt like you barely existed to him.

At first, you thought maybe he was just in a bad mood. It wouldn’t have been the first time. But as the days passed, you noticed the pattern.

He avoided looking at you.

He barely spoke to you, and when he did, it was clipped, almost dismissive. Gone was the slight patience he usually had for you. Instead, every interaction felt like he was just tolerating your presence.

"Here’s the report you asked for," you said one morning, handing him a file.

He took it without even glancing at you. "Thanks," he muttered, flipping it open.

That was it. No further comment. No acknowledgment.

You frowned. "Is everything alright?"

"Why wouldn’t it be?" he replied flatly, still not looking at you.

Your frown deepened. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t him.

A few days ago, if you had cracked a joke or made some offhand comment, Lassiter would have at least huffed or rolled his eyes. Now, he didn’t even react. It was like he had shut you out completely, and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why.

Even Juliet seemed to notice. You caught her watching the two of you more than once, her expression thoughtful, but she never said anything.

The only person who didn’t seem to notice was Shawn. Or maybe he did, and he just didn’t care.

If anything, Shawn was still the same—casual, flirty, completely in your space like nothing had changed. And maybe that was part of the problem.

You couldn’t keep going like this.

It was eating at you, this cold distance between you and Lassiter. And by the way he acted—stiff, harsh, avoiding you like you were nothing more than another name on a report—it was clear that whatever this was, you had hurt him too.

You just didn’t know how. You wanted things to go back to the way they were before. Back when he was warm with you, in his own gruff way. When he would smile—just for you. When he’d try and fail to suppress a chuckle at one of your dumb jokes. When he’d stay long after his shift ended, sitting with you in the precinct, going over paperwork in comfortable silence.

You missed him. So when you saw him heading toward the shooting range, you didn’t hesitate. You followed.

At this hour, it was empty. Good. Maybe now you’d finally get the chance to talk to him.

You stepped into the booth next to him, loading your weapon and taking aim at the target. Beside you, Lassiter did the same, not even glancing your way.

The sharp bang of his gun echoed through the room. You fired as well, the tension in the air almost suffocating. Another shot. Another.

Finally, you sighed, lowering your weapon. "Alright, what is going on with you?"

Lassiter didn’t even blink. He reloaded his gun, jaw tight. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

You scoffed. "Really? Because I don’t think I’ve seen you this pissed since Spencer replaced all your coffee with herbal tea."

His hands stilled for a fraction of a second. It was quick, barely noticeable. But you caught it.

You crossed your arms, watching him carefully. He could pretend all he wanted, but something was wrong.

You stared at him, watching the way his shoulders went rigid, the way his grip on the gun tightened.

"It’s about Shawn, isn’t it?"

Lassiter tensed even more, but still didn’t answer. Instead, he lifted his weapon, aimed at the target, and fired rapidly—shot after shot, precise and controlled, but fueled by something raw underneath.

That was confirmation enough.

You pressed your lips together, waiting as he emptied the magazine. Finally, with a sharp exhale, he set the gun down on the counter and turned toward you.

"Unlike what Spencer may tell you," he said, his voice tight, "I’m head detective for a reason. I notice things."

You frowned, confused. "Okay…?"

He let out a dry laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Oh, don’t play dumb with me. I saw you and Spencer in the interrogation room the other day."

Your heart kicked up a little. "So?"

His expression darkened. "You’re dating him."

You nearly choked on your own spit. "What?! No!"

Lassiter narrowed his eyes, searching your face like he was looking for any sign of a lie.

"Are you serious?" you sputtered. "Where the hell did you get that idea?"

He folded his arms, his whole stance screaming skepticism. "I saw the way you were with him. You were—" He waved a hand vaguely, scowling. "You were all over each other."

You stared at him in stunned silence before letting out a sharp laugh. "Lassiter, have you met Shawn? He’s like that with everyone. He clings, he invades personal space, he—he plays with people’s hair for no reason!"

Lassiter’s jaw tightened. "It didn’t look like nothing."

You exhaled, rubbing a hand down your face. "Jesus, no wonder you’ve been acting like I murdered your dog."

He didn’t respond.

Instead, he just looked at you, something unreadable flickering behind his blue eyes.

And suddenly, everything clicked.

Your stomach twisted.

This wasn’t just about Shawn.

This was about you.

You inhaled sharply, piecing it together.

Lassiter had always treated you differently—softer, more patient. You had noticed it before but never really thought too hard about it. Maybe you didn’t want to think too hard about it.

But now, standing here in the empty shooting range, his jaw tight, his fists clenched, his gaze burning into you with something raw and unreadable… it hit you like a freight train.

"You’re jealous."

It wasn’t a question. It was a realization spoken out loud.

Lassiter’s expression darkened instantly. "That’s ridiculous."

You took a step closer, watching him carefully. "Is it?"

He scoffed. "I don’t get jealous."

"You do when it comes to me and Shawn, apparently."

His lips pressed into a thin line. He looked away, picking up his gun again like it was some kind of shield. "I don’t care who you date," he muttered.

You narrowed your eyes. "But you thought I was dating Shawn, and suddenly you started treating me like I kicked your puppy."

His hands tightened around the weapon. He didn’t shoot this time. He just stood there.

Silent.

Tense.

Like a man on the verge of saying something he really didn’t want to say.

Lassiter’s hands twitched at his sides, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. His jaw was still tight, his body still tense, but then he finally spoke.

"You and I," he started slowly, carefully, like he was picking his way through a minefield. "We get along, right?"

You blinked at him. "Yeah?"

His eyes flicked to you briefly before dropping to the gun on the counter. "You’re the only one who gets me," he continued, voice quieter now. "The only one I actually like working with."

Your heart started hammering, the weight of his words pressing down on you.

"And well…" He hesitated, exhaling sharply through his nose before forcing himself to go on. "I thought…"

He didn’t finish right away. He let the words linger in the air between you, thick and heavy with something unspoken.

You waited, your breath caught in your throat. Was this—was this a love confession?

Lassiter dragged a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated with himself, but then—finally—he said it.

"I thought I could ask you to go out for dinner or a drink sometime."

You froze.

Your brain stalled.

Your heart nearly stopped.

"But then I saw you with him," he added, his voice gruff. "And I thought you were already taken."

You swallowed, your mind racing to catch up with what was happening. You had spent days agonizing over what had gone wrong, and all this time, it had been this.

He wanted to ask you out.

Carlton Lassiter—grumpy, no-nonsense, head detective Lassiter—wanted to take you to dinner.

And he thought he had missed his chance.

"I'm not taken," you said quickly, your voice a little breathless.

His gaze snapped to yours, like he wasn’t sure he had heard you right.

"Not at all," you continued, stepping closer, feeling bold—feeling brave. "Unless… you take me?"

For the first time in days, Lassiter looked stunned.

Completely, utterly caught off guard.

His lips parted slightly, his brows pulling together, like he was trying to process what you had just said.

And then, slowly—so slowly—it happened.

The corners of his mouth twitched. Just barely. Just enough.

"You’re serious?" he asked, his voice quieter now, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to believe it.

You tilted your head, a small, teasing smile tugging at your lips. "You’re the detective, aren’t you? What do you think?"

Something in his expression shifted.

The hesitation, the frustration, the anger from before—it all faded, replaced by something warmer, something that made your stomach flip.

And then, finally, finally, he exhaled a small, almost disbelieving chuckle.

"Well, then," he murmured, shaking his head with the smallest smile. "I guess I’m taking you out."

𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱! 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿!

▸ Everything

@alexxavicry

▸ Psych

@capitanostella @apesarecuul

[zahri-melitor]

Hush 2: Electric Boogaloo

I saw the announcement!

My initial thought is "we already had that". A.J. Lieberman turned Gotham Knights into All Hush All the Time from the Return of Hush onwards in 2004; Paul Dini had both Heart of Hush and House of Hush in 'Tec and then Streets...

If I had to pick a single Hush story it's probably Heart of Hush, though the premise is still ridiculous.

Okay, whinging aside, Tommy Elliot basically hasn't done that much since Batman Eternal and All-Star Batman, so it's not like he's been overused since Rebirth.

My general vibes over it as a prestige fill run while they decide on a new Batman writer: ehhhh. I know there's a segment of the wider Bat fandom who are very excited, but Loeb's very much a one trick pony as far as Bat stories go and having two running at once is going to make it that much more obvious to fans who haven't read his work back to back before. It's almost certainly going to be a murder mystery where there's confusion over who the villain of the piece is and Bruce is going to have to hunt it out.

Given they're directly selling it as Hush 2 I suspect the pitch includes "establishing pieces on who are the current members of the Bat Family" in terms of issues. With that I strongly suspect Loeb will skip over at least one obvious woman who should be included (again), it's going to be heavy on re-establishing what people expect as Background Default Gotham, and I won't be shocked if Jim Gordon comes back out of retirement AGAIN.

I'm also not convinced having TWO Loeb Bat books coming out simultaneously is the right way to hold sections of your audience, given they've clearly been trying to shift to have several tonally different writers on the franchise at once to give more choice to fans, but I also realise the scheduling plan on this looks like two situations clashing rather than actual long range planning for both.

[boringkate]

I watched Lena Dunham's Sharp Stick (2022) with a babe last month. Which I absolutely loved!!!

It's never explicitly acknowledged, but the main character is clearly supposed to be (despite the producers claiming otherwise) in some way neurodivergent. Or something. She's meek and impossibly sexually naive (to the point where me and the girl I watched it with had initially assumed the character was intended to be a child). Apparently they had approached an autism sexuality advocate to work as a consultant for the film before backpeddling.

Trans girls tend to be autistic.

The main character also had a hysterectomy (as did Lena Dunham).

Trans girls tend to be infertile.

She's shown taking estrogen.

Trans girls tend to take estrogen.

She becomes obsessed with porn and begins having one night stands with random men from the internet in hopes of finding validation by proving her sexual desirability.

Trans girls tend to do that shit.

It ends with her realizing and leaning into her impregnation fetish (while getting fucked by the one black guy she knows who had just brought over some 40s and called them homies and also while her black step sister's hands unexpectedly drift in from off screen to hold her because even when she managed to push it off to the last second Lena Dunham is incapable of being chill and normal about race).

Trans girls can't go ten seconds without making the same joke about how if you don't think you can get a trans girl pregnant then you just aren't trying hard enough (and the frequent fetishization of black men in trans and especially neighboring sissy communities can't really be denied).

Also the bartender is played by Tommy Dorfman (a trans woman) with it being her first time playing a character with a girl name.

But I'm not trying to suggest it's intentionally a movie about the tgirl excperience. That would be silly. Really the takeaway should be that (no matter how varied women's lives may be) we (trans women and cis women etc) can still always find common ground and shared excperiences. We're all in this together.

But anyways I was looking at Lena Dunham's Instagram yesterday (I've been off and on again rewatching Girls, so she's stayed on my mind).

One post features the music video she directed starring famed trans girl Hari Nef.

Another post shows that she recently read trans boy Elliot Paige's memoir Paige Boy.

Another post shows a conversation she had with Jon Bernthal (on his podcast) where she explains the word cis to him and talks about having also explained it to her husband (this is the only clip from her appearance on the podcast that she chose to post).

BTW did you know that she was an executive producer for the 2021 show Genera+ion (which I recall featuring a trans boy actor playing a cis boy character who gets a girl pregnant).

Fascinating!

Meanwhile. Ten years earlier. In 2013 (a year into my transition and a year before Time declared that we've reached the trans tipping point) an episode of Girls features a doorman telling one of the titular Girls that "a tranny walked in last time and he was just walking around the floors, but it was nothing." (lmao)

UPDATE: s05e02 features a "did you just assume my pronouns" bit. (in a way that felt reactionary and gross because the theyfab saying it was an absurd hipster barista that the audience isn't intended to sympathize with)

UPDATE UPDATE: s06e02 features the leader of a group for women entrepreneurs saying "For those of you asking on our Facebook if the group is open to trans women: The answer is: We don't know. Okay?" (which I thought was fun)

UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE: s06e03 (the literal next episode) "I even went to a couple of hookers and one of them had a dick."

[s-wave-entertainment]

Looked back into episode 7 today. If you haven't watched it for whatever reason, ehhhh maybe hold off on this for now, but I noticed something and I don't know what to make of it. So I bring it to you, oh Tumblr audience!

Okay so while "Tessa" was down in the... holding chamber hallway? Idk the place with all the lockers with the different drones' numbers on them that she blew up, I was feeling appreciative for the clarity of this episode and how vivid it was in comparison to the earlier episodes. But before I could get too sentimental over it, I got a look at he computer area at the end of the hall. I knew there was a picture there before, but I hadn't paid it much mind until today, when I mistook it for a picture of the Elliots. It isn't, but I think it's something much more interesting:

The whole screenshot, and the picture as clear as I could make it. What we're looking at here is very clearly two drones with the word "HELP" scrawled across the center in blood. Blood on its own already raises a few questions about this for me, but I'm more curious about the two drones pictured. As far as we the audience know, there was only one successful duo in the CFL project - Nori and Yeva. But I acknowledge that

A) There's a lot of info about Project Cabin Fever (PCF) we don't know, and

B) This picture is incredibly unclear and it could be neither of those drones.

Those things aside... why the PICTURE in the first place? This is framed at the end of the hallway where all of the subjects were held. Why? As an example? Symbol of pride? Warning?

I don't mean to start any crazy theory here, I just noticed this today and my curiosity was piqued. I'm of the opinion that MD will likely have a second season, and I hope I'm right - not just for more content of our favorite robot blorbos, but also because I am insanely curious about the origins of PCF. That's all, good day and safe travels!

[penny-anna]

to answer your Billy elliot tag question, I'm USAmerican and when I went to see it in my city a few years ago a good half of the audience was little girls clearly dressed up to see a fun musical about ballet 😭😭 I also assumed it was just "little boy experiences ballet and gender barriers" despite being a Musical Theater Kid (tm) so I wonder if there's simply less Billy elliot awareness in the US

yeah i wouldn't be surprised!! i wouldn't really expect people outside the UK to know much about the context of the miner's strike

[shion-yu]

Day 22: "You didn't use my cup, did you?"

988 words for @sicktember, an Elliot and Alex tour story. No TWs.

Elliot didn’t usually drink, but after their show tonight he very quickly downed two beers and now was on a glass of wine to relax. He’d been sick all day, coughing even between singing verses and feverish with chills that made him feel strangely cold even under the hot stage lights. He was not going to cancel a show, he never would, but that didn’t stop him from looking like absolute crap. The audience had filled in multiple lines for him, which he’d gratefully thanked them for from stage all the while feeling more and more useless as the show went on. Now, finally, it was over. They had one day off tomorrow before their next show, and Elliot planned on sleeping for the entire day and a half before he had to be on stage again. He just needed to wind down, first.

The glass of wine he was sipping was finally hitting him, and Elliot was just starting to relax when Alex swooped in, stole his drink and BAM, there went his relaxation.

“Alex!”

Alex turned in surprise at Elliot’s shrill voice. “What?”

“You didn’t use my cup, did you?” Elliot said, his tone entirely defeated because he knew for a fact that Alex had. Alex looked down at the glass of wine in his hand and swore.

“Fuck. Oops.”

Elliot dropped his head in his hands with a groan. “Great, now we’re both going down.”

“Hey, I have a pretty good immune system,” Alex said, but he didn’t really believe it was going to help him when Elliot was clearly at the peak of contagiousness right now. He grimaced. “We have Emergen-C on this bus somewhere. I’m gonna go chug it.”

“Please do,” Elliot said miserably. 

Unfortunately, and predictably, the Emergen-C did nothing. Elliot slept all day as promised and Alex told himself he was just feeling run down until he woke up the morning of their next show with a scratchy throat and a low grade fever. 

“I told you,” Elli out said accusingly when he saw Alex at sound check fumbling with a bottle of aspirin. “You look like crap.”

“No thanks to you,” Alex muttered. “I can still play.”

Elliot, who was also still working through the tail end of this cold, snorted loudly. “Yeah, I know. Me too. Doesn’t mean it’s gonna be fun. Gimme some of those.”

They popped aspirin together like it was some strange ceremonial pre-show ritual. The show was… rough. Decent enough. But they both stumbled off stage with fevers, skipped the encore, and spent the rest of the evening passed out on the bus thanks to hefty swigs of NyQuil. They shared that cup too, but it certainly didn’t matter at this point.

“This is your fault,” Alex whined, coughing pathetically and openly. He didn’t bother to cover his mouth at this point, since it was just the two of them on the bus and it wasn’t like Elliot could catch more of his own cold.

“My fault?!” Elliot exclaimed incredulously. “You’re entirely, 100% at fault here.” He plucked a tissue from the box they’d been sharing, which was already running dangerously low despite replacing it only hours before. The sinus pressure when he blew his nose made his eyes water.

“It’s your fault for being so weak to catch a cold first,” Alex elaborated grumpily. Elliot ignored his accusation and scrolled through local takeout menus on his phone until he found a place that, at least by their pictures, appeared to make a proper thom yum soup. It was the only thing he was craving right now. “Do you want food or not?”

“Crab rangoon.”

“That is absolutely not sick food,” Elliot said. But he ordered it anyways, knowing Alex didn’t give a shit what was sick food or not. What he really wanted right now, was for his mom to make him her grilled cheese and tomato soup that no matter what, he could never recreate despite it being wonder bread and American cheese slices. He wanted Cliff to hold him, give him more sympathy than he really needed, and to fall asleep watching reality TV in bed together. But instead he was stuck on a tour bus in Nevada with Alex far away from any at-home comforts.

Elliot sighed and made the order. By the time the food came, he was too sleepy to really care about eating anymore but forced down a few mouthfuls before passing out in his bunk, Alex having done the same above him. They were halfway through their tour, and this was just a bump, Elliot told himself as he drifted into unconsciousness. It’d be worth it - it already was worth it - he just had to weather this damn cold.

He wasn’t sure where they were - probably somewhere past the Arizona border - when he woke up to something cold on his face. Elliot whined and pushed the coldness away, shivering. “Cliff, leave me alone,” he mumbled.

“Keep it on,” a voice that wasn’t Cliff growled. Elliot slowly opened his eyes and realized it was Alex crouched beside his bunk with a wet washcloth. He stared at the younger man in confusion. “Your fever is bad,” Alex explained gruffly. “If you’re awake, take some more Tylenol.”

Elliot didn’t have time to answer before Alex climbed back up into his bunk and shut the curtain. He picked the washcloth off his face, in shock even half asleep as he was that Alex had decided to help him. He knew Alex was uncomfortable with that sort of thing - probably why he’d escaped back up to his bed so quickly - but the gesture, small as it was, made Elliot feel surprisingly loved. He took the Tylenol obediently and then bundled himself back under his blankets, shivering but feeling just a bit better knowing that even if he didn’t have quite what he wanted right now in terms of care, he had someone.

[daggerzine]

Heaven Adores You: An intimate, meditative inquiry into the life & music of Elliott Smith (2014 film re-release- Directed by Nickolas Ross- REVIEW BY DINA HORNREICH)

As the film opens, we hear its subject brutally confessing how he’s just “the wrong kind of person to be really big and famous.” Moments later, the film reveals the extraordinary impact as news of his passing was spreading in communal shockwaves that resonated across collections of the musician's admirers. Moreover, it is particularly compelling to ponder in this portrayal how his career had almost simultaneously been catapulted by the same interest of the interviewing filmmaker, Gus Van Sant; given how its rising impact had offered the crucial momentum for generating such deserving recognition in the first place. (My own reaction at the time was no different as I murmured to myself: “They say he died from two stab wounds to the chest…and now I feel like I did too.”)

Throughout “Heaven Adores You,” we are consistently left pondering how the achievement of this level of attention had fostered a reluctant role as an awkward Oscar award nominee (even though it felt very deserving to most of us from a distance) – since it was also a catalyst for his downward spiraling into another addiction addled artistic abyss? Obviously, like most things, it’s a bittersweet combination of those disparate elements as they seem to “ping-ping” between paradigmatically hypothetical extremes. As Smith’s particular story seems quite invitational of these common dualistic negotiations while grappling with everyday paradoxes such as why moral strife connotes devastating violence – or whether economic success fosters excessive lifestyle choices instead of sensible habit making.

Furthermore, as audiences, we seem to know that these are not new areas of inquiry for aspiring artists given that natural reluctance to embrace any spotlighted kinds of importance even when being considered for inclusion amidst this litany of talented contributors whose narratives comprise our collective lore and rich cultural heritage; and, as such, this is an uncomfortable feeling that is not exclusive to Smith’s heartbreaking output and individual story whatsoever. However, as it is a painstakingly poignant undercurrent that harrowingly confronts us throughout every moment of the film (given the depths of its portrait of Smith’s words, music, and overall aesthetic); we cannot ignore how Smith’s work clearly embodies the raw and humbling forms of authenticity that seemed unique to our particular mid 90s communities of indie/punk rock peers and collaborators.

Sadly, watching the film also makes it apparent that these are the moments that typically “make or break” artists who are forced to grapple between the intersections given the impact of their artistic messages as it mediates their relationships with those recipients -- and otherwise trying to balance the importance of commercial recognition with a need for financial viability. It’s impossible to avoid getting philosophical, political, and otherwise theoretically volatile when we understand the intense pressures of living in a world that still sends poets to jail and otherwise tortures artists until they simply can’t bear that existence anymore. (Wasn’t it Kurt Cobain who asked: “Is it better to burn out or fade away?”) And this film offers those continual reminders for us to simply say “thank you” to Elliot Smith for having lasted long enough to leave us these musical treasures even though they also serve as painful reminders that we will never stop missing him!

[idreamtofmanderleyagain]

I've recently gotten into, or rather back into the Hellraiser fandom and I love your posts about Kirsty and Pinhead/Elliot Spencer. Now onto my question: How do you think H3 had played out if Kirsty had been the main character again and not Joey? Or do you think they'd done as much as they could with the character and she was supposed to have a happy ending raising Tiffany?

Hi! Thank you for liking my posts and joining in on the conversation!

In terms of what Hollywood would have actually done with her: I think had it been Kirsty in Joey's place, we would have been able to see a real emotional momentum build for her and Pinhead/Elliot. I doubt that hollywood would have given us a romance...at least not with Pinhead. However, I suspect that they wanted to build off of the character dynamic in some kind of direction that teased at emotional/sexual tension, and here is my reasoning:

Joey to me has a lot of character aspects that feel grafted from Kirsty, like her mourning for her father, the gothic fever dreams, sassing back against Pinhead, and the dream interaction between her and Elliot. Clearly they were trying to replicate important aspects of their missing heroine in their new heroine. In Hellbound, the visual implication to me when we first see Elliot is that Kirsty is actually dreaming of his death/rebirth. Hence why she recognises his photo later. It makes sense, if you were intending to continue such a theme, to have them meet and speak in her dreams in the aftermath of saving her, as if his spirit had stuck with her (hence why I suggest that in my fic). The "a dream of one war is a dream of all wars" justification actually feels like a poor way to tack up an explaination once the heroine who was already established having such dreams was gone. In other words, it feels like the "Elliot's ghost" thing was possibly originally meant for a story with Kirsty in it, or at least manifested from that idea.

It even feels like in the absence of Kirsty, they had to flashback to the sacrifice scene in H2 to get Joey - and the audience - to grasp the emotional momentum that Joey was inheriting from Kirsty. Something that would have established the context in an even more thematically sensible way if the same girl was in the conversation instead of Joey.

It's worth noting that there are earlier scripts of H3 in which Elliot and Joey actually have a romantic arc during these dream sequences, and Joey actually becomes Pinhead's "bride" in exchange for career momentum, like some kind of creepy/sexy faustian deal. I don't think they would have ever presented Pinhead alone as a truly viable romantic option outside of some dark cenario like that.

However, I believe had they been able to keep Ashley/Kirsty on board for the third film, they absolutely would have given her a romantic arc with Elliot and may have even considered it in early stages, and I think what we have left, both in the early Joey scripts and the final film, strongly reflects that intent, or at least an awareness that something *like that* would be the right emotional momentum for a third storyline that included Pinhead and where he was at psychologically post H2.

For how I personally would do it, I am actually exploring the idea of Kirsty in H3 in my fic Roses for the Abyss, which has kind of been on an unofficial hiatus at the moment because my current job is too draining. But there are two fantastic authors who have done awesome stuff with the same core concept, and actually finished their stories! Please check out @inkworthywords 's The Pin and The Casket and @hamatebone 's From The Ashes series!

[booktomoviebrawl]

We are not judging how bad the movie is, we are judging which adapted the book the worst. There are good movies that are bad adaptions.

Propaganda below the cut (spoilers may apply)

The Giver:

Completely changed the book making a story with great characters and subtle themes into a generic ya dystopia with stupid teen characters and no themes

They turned it into like this teen angst dystopia that missed all the nuance and love that poured into the original book. They were clearly trying to capitalize off of Hunger Games/Divergent and failed miserably. The original book was a message on totalitarian governments and how history repeats itself. It's so frustrating to see movies strip away messages like that and just make it a cash grab.

Shallow interpretation, tried to please everyone, also Taylor Swift was there?

Persuasion:

They massacred my girl!! That is not Anne Elliot!! The whole point is that she's beaten down and thinks she's missed her chance at happiness and is bullied by her family, not making mean and snarky nods to the camera :( They completely missed the whole point of the dynamic and it's SICKENING! They also cut Mrs Smith who is arguably one of the most important characters as she highlights Anne's lack of focus on title and rank and her family's comparative obsession with it + it's only through her that Anne learns about Mr Elliot's true nasty nature. Also they cut the 'I am half agony, half hope' line from Wentworth's letter at the end so what's even the POINT of adapting it if you don't have that!! Oh my god!! My poor favourite Austen novel :( (I do want to make it very very clear that my issues with the movie come from the writing and adaptation and not in any way from the race blind casting. The casting is superb and I'm genuinely so disappointed that they got such a bad adaptation bc so many of the cast are literally perfect)

Where do I even start? They tried to 'modernize' both the protagonist and the love story and managed to take out everything that made it good in the first place. Anne Elliot in the novel is quiet and good and helpful, full of regret. In the movie, she constantly turns to the audience to mock everyone around her, feeling so much better than everyone, to the point where nobody understands why Captain Wentworth would still be in love with her, or have fallen in love with her in the first place. Eight years before the plot starts, she broker her engagement to him because she was persuaded by a family friend that it was a bad idea. No way would movie!Anne have let herself be persuaded. They just tried to do a Fleabag/Emma type of thing without understanding what made either the novel or those two things work and thereby ruined it completely

Whoever made this didn't understand the point of the novel at all. They completely screwed up the character of Anne Elliot (the protagonist), which in turn screws the rest of the movie, as the original story only works because Anne is the way she is. Also, it's a period piece but the characters are talking in modern slang the entire time. And not in a clever way but in a very cringey one. If Jane Austen knew, she'd probably turn in her grave, and rightfully so.

Maximum Ride:

The storyline makes absolutely no sense, and the movie is nothing like the book. You could've given the movie an entirely different name and and keep the plot I wouldn't bat an eye

the movie's just bad mate

Horrendous low budget netflix movie with effects so bad they make me feel physically ill and acting so wooden the cast is in danger of being attacked by lumberjacks. The story already wasn't the best and the film somehow made it worst. I came in with nostalgia for my dear kids with bird wings and left never to be the same again.

[gleefulpoppet]

I've been tagged in some recent WIP-type updates by @rockitmans, and @bitbybitwrites. Thank you! It's been a while, but here we are! This is from Just One Look (gasp! Yes, I am working on the second part slowly but surely, and we'll get to see how Elliot and Blaine met).

The audience nodded, clearly engaged as the hour went on. The moderator turned to Elliot. "Starchild, as someone who has been at the forefront of the modern Broadway movement, how do you see the future of musical theatre evolving?" Elliot took a moment to collect his thoughts, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as he leaned toward the mic. "The future of musical theatre is incredibly exciting and complex. We're seeing a blend of traditional storytelling with cutting-edge technology. Shows are becoming more immersive, with digital sets and interactive elements. Additionally, the rise of streaming platforms is making theatre more accessible to global audiences. But beyond the technical innovations, I believe the heart of musical theatre will always be its ability to tell human, heartfelt stories. We need to continue to nurture new voices and perspectives, ensuring that theatre remains relevant and reflective of our diverse world."

Tagging any author out there who wants to play! I'd love to read what you've been working on! ♥

[setagaya-division]

"hello Yorii Kun"-sang Eden Yamamura in all his seductive and joy presence infront of the another siren

Yorii stared at the blonde. he don't trust exactly in the underground musician not only due to his apparently feelings for Elliot. but the different beetwen them. Eden was more flirty and openly seductive (Even sexual) than yorii if the rumors about him in the school were true. besides. Eden said clearly that his true music was for the underground instead the great stages

But the other reason was that like Yorii himself and Mina. Eden didn't feel completely human. Yorii knew about it but ¿What's him?

Eden smiled

"we should try to get along beetwen musician yorii kun"-said him with fun then he gives Yorii a little jewel box with something

Two necklace with a siren theme

Ede looked at Yorii smiling-"i have a "meet" with certain someone one of my lovers so bye "-said Eden with a flirt and amusement voice

But when he thought yorii not could noticed his purple eyes glowed in pink and a light blush appeared on his pale skin

Staring at him a bit suspicious yorii look at the necklaces again. Both looked made of genuine silver or even white gold and the gemstones not looked fakes

When he noticed something in the jewelry box of expensive aspect

"happy birthday siren. like your music even is not my style and...takes this as my own invitation if we face in DRB. I know about your suspicious and i will to say you this

¿How could be a rap battle beetwen a siren and a succubus/Incubus?

P.D:yeah, i bought them with a bit of the money that my last "lover" gave me...don't blame me. After all i'm a succubus. I need it i want or not"

As Yorii sat in his room, he reopened the message box and carefully re-read the message that Eden had left him, so as not to misinterpret anything. He wasn't actually challenging Yorii and his siblings to a rap battle, was he? Even he, for all his charm and wits, couldn't be that dumb, could he?

Aside from the fact that they were on two totally different wavelengths when it came to music, the two of them had different reputations. Eden was known to be a shameless flirt with multiple lovers on the side. While this didn't do much for his reputation, he didn't seem to care, as he seemed to revel in the notoriety his relationships brought him. Yorii was the same, but his flirting was done out of fun and enjoyment. He could appreciate a woman in good clothing, but he had eyes on only one woman.

Besides that, the two of them didn't even move in the same circle. Yorii, he loved being in the spotlight. He loved being on stage, having thousands and thousands of people cheer for him. Eden, on the other hand, despite his reputation, seemed content to stay underground. Why that was, Yorii didn't know. Yorii even volunteered to help Eden get on a real stage with a real audience, but the so-called "succubus" refused. So after that, Yorii didn't bother asking him again.

So despite knowing all that, why exactly did Eden challenge Yorii? The blonde-haired idol didn't know, nor did he care. Perhaps the yellow-haired musician was starting to get a big head, or perhaps this was payback for Yorii interfering when it came to his brother, Elliot. As he stated, he didn't know, nor did he care right now. All that matters was that he threw out the challenge, meaning the ball was now in Yorii's court. As he thought on this, a smirk appeared on his face.

"Alright, Mr. Succubus." Yorii said, as he twirled one of the siren necklaces bequeathed to him around in his hand. "You wish to see the difference between you and I that badly? Have it your way."

As he said, Yorii's hair and eyes slowly started changing, going from his usual blonde-hair and blue eyes, to pink-hair and red eyes, resembling a well-known fashion designer.

"And when I embarrass you on stage, you'll quickly wake up from that pleasant dream you succubi are known to give mortals. ...Only this time, that dream, it will slowly turn into a nightmare. One orchestrated by the Siren."

With that, he threw the necklace he was twirling back into the jewelry box and closed it, before walking out of his room, a smirk still on his dark face.

[bcomic-blog]

Tonight in El Goonish Shive

Evidently, the flashback from the last page was NOT Space Gerbils as I had thought Elliot and Susan watching old footage of themselves, but rather just a flashback for the audience's sake to greater highlight the contrast between Susan then:

And Susan now:

So, Susan is far more open now, especially in front of the camera. Funny how Elliot clearly remembers that moment quite vividly!

@danshive : it's not that you did anything wrong or weren't sufficiently clear... It's just the inherent limitations of the pacing of webcomics... Sometimes it takes more than one page for the thrust of a new scene to become completely apparent. If you're archive-reading that's no issue, you just turn the page and any question is answered. Waiting two days for a page, crack theories inherently will form, there's just no helping it!