#anyway i'm done waxing lyrical

[dxrlingluv]

The way you write Apollo,Hermes and Telemachus is so good.. anyways...

Fem!reader x Hermes.. so basically, reader is one of Apollo's muses and Hermes kinda "steals her away" from his brother & Apollo is VERY pissed that his brother is flirting with one of his muses...

Poetic dilemma

A/N : Thank you so much! Those three are my favorites(and ody). Also… Hermes and Apollo fighting for you and your attention. What a dream, isn’t it? Hermes art is from Zieru, Apollo art is from Gigi!

WARNING : Fem!Muse!Reader, Hermes and Apollo is fighting for the reader.

Word Count : 926

The golden halls of Apollo’s temple usually rang with the harmonious strains of lyres, the rustle of parchment, and the occasional, perfectly timed dramatic monologue from the god himself. Today, though, you were finding it particularly hard to concentrate on anything but the sheer joy radiating from Apollo. He was currently perched on a marble pedestal, mid-recitation of his new ode to… well, himself, mostly.

"And then, with a flourish of celestial light," Apollo boomed, striking a pose, his eyes alight with inspiration, "I, Apollo, the radiant one, did cast my golden gaze upon the slumbering earth, awakening it with my glorious warmth!"

You smiled, genuinely happy to see him so immersed in his art. "Very… illuminating, Apollo! The warmth truly comes through!"

He beamed, soaking in your praise. "Ah, your appreciation! It truly fuels my divine fire!"

Just as he was about to launch into the next stanza, a sudden, soft whoosh of air brushed past you. Before you could even register it, a strong, playful arm wrapped around your waist, and you were lifted clean off your feet. A familiar, mischievous laugh echoed in your ear.

"Time for a change of scenery, little star!" Hermes's voice chirped, and the world outside the temple became a blur of clouds and sky.

You gasped, half in surprise, half in delight. "Hermes! What are you doing?!"

"Rescuing you from… well, just a change of pace!" he declared, soaring through a fluffy cloud bank, his winged sandals a blur. He held you securely, your feet dangling playfully. "Honestly, I just thought you might like a break. Plus," he winked, slowing to a more leisurely glide, "I'm much more fun than listening to him wax poetic about his own sun chariot for the fifth time today. Though, he does make it sound good."

You couldn't help but laugh, the wind whipping through your hair. "He's going to be furious!"

"Oh, he'll get over it," Hermes scoffed, doing a mid-air barrel roll that made you squeal with laughter. "He has, what, a dozen other muses. He won't even notice one is missing. Besides," he winked, "I'm much more fun than listening to him drone on about his own sun chariot for the fifth time today."

Meanwhile, back in the temple, Apollo was still mid-pose. "…and the mortals, awestruck by my unparalleled brilliance, did fall to their knees in… wait a minute." He slowly un-struck his pose. His eyes, which had been closed in dramatic contemplation, snapped open. He looked to his left. Then to his right. His brow furrowed.

"My muse?" he murmured. "Where is my muse?"

A beat of silence. Then, a terrifying, earth-shaking roar. "HERMES!" Apollo’s voice thundered, shaking the very foundations of Olympus. "YOU WINGED SCOUNDREL! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY MUSE?!"

Hermes, who had just landed you gently on a particularly soft cloud, winced. "Ah, speak of the devil… or rather, the sun god. He noticed quicker than I thought."

Apollo descended upon you both, radiating pure, unadulterated indignation. His golden hair seemed to crackle with divine fury, and his lyre, usually a symbol of harmony, looked dangerously close to being used as a blunt instrument.

"Hermes! You absolute scoundrel! You snatched Y/N! My inspiration! My lyrical genius! How am I supposed to compose my ode to the perfect shade of dawn without her insightful feedback on the nuances of 'rosy-fingered' versus 'crimson-tipped'?"

Hermes put an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer with a cheeky grin. "Oh, lighten up, brother. We were just... on a field trip. For creative enrichment. Very avant-garde."

Apollo's eyes narrowed, his gaze fixed on Hermes's arm. "Field trip? You're flirting with my muse! My property! This is an outrage! Do you know how long it takes to find a muse who truly appreciates the subtle brilliance of a well-placed caesura?"

You smiled, finding Apollo's passion endearing, even when he was this worked up.

Hermes, ever the provocateur, leaned in closer to you, whispering loudly enough for Apollo to hear, "He's just jealous, you know. My charm is simply irresistible."

Apollo gasped, a hand flying to his chest dramatically. "Jealous?! Of you?! The god of petty theft and glorified delivery services?! I am Apollo! God of music, poetry, light, and prophecy! I have no need for jealousy!" He then pointed a trembling finger at Hermes. "Release her at once, you winged hooligan! She has a symphony to inspire!"

You gently extricated yourself from Hermes's grasp, stepping forward with a smile. "Apollo, it's alright. Hermes was just... giving me a change of perspective. But I'm always happy to hear your latest works!"

Apollo softened slightly, though his glare at Hermes remained. "See, Hermes? She's too kind for your thieving ways. Now, Y/N, darling, we must return. I have a particularly challenging rhyme for 'helios' that only you can truly appreciate."

As Apollo began to lead you away, already launching into a new poetic dilemma, Hermes winked over Apollo's shoulder. "I'll be back, little star. And next time, I'm thinking a whirlwind tour of the mortal realm. Much more exciting than listening to him drone on about himself."

Apollo, oblivious, continued his monologue. You just smiled, a secret thrill bubbling inside you. Being Apollo's muse was fulfilling, and seeing him so happy was wonderful. But being the object of Hermes's playful "theft" and the subsequent divine rivalry was undeniably more entertaining. And you knew, with absolute certainty, that Hermes would indeed be back. And Apollo would be just as hilariously furious.

[amuseoffyre]

Speedrun of memories from the meet-and-greet last night:

Ruibo is the loveliest of people and had only arrived from New York 3 hours before the con began. She said she's loving it so far and everyone's so lovely. She really enjoyed the community of the show and how much people embraced Zheng. She was so thrilled with her mini-me 🥰

Nathan is such a wonderful catty diva and I love him so much.He complained about the lack of Lucius but was very pleased to see the Pete muppet and took a selfie with it to send to Matt Maher 🥰

David Fane's face journey on his way to our table went 😮😍 when he saw his mini-me waiting for him. He was so excited about it and he told us some of the significance of Fang's tattoos and that after the show, he ended up getting the belly tattoos done. The traditional artist who designed them was the same person who did the ink-work on his upper right arm. The bird motif is a very specific one in Samoan culture and the placement of it on his chest, towards his heart, was "so it was always flying home"

He is also such a giggly scamp - about Fang's belt on his head, he insisted to the costume designers that it was badass and cool to wear a belt on the head and the wardrobe team made a kind of "....Hm" response. "So I put it on my head anyway and then went out for filming and didn't let anyone take it off me and then it was too late for them to stop me 😇"

He also mentioned that Fang was such a delight to play because there's this tendency to make bigger performers tough and scary, but he loved that while Fang has done all this violence and lived through so much harsh and horrible stuff, he's still this sweet guy who just wants to be nice to people and have a good time with his friends.

Con was his usual glorious self. We ended up having a fascinating talk about the state of media, the limits placed on creative people by executives, how people at the top don't *get* why things work, they just take things that are successful and try and regurgitate them over and over until the genre/story/narrative is dead. He also waxed lyrical about what an excellent person David Tennant is, both for the way he doesn't let himself be pigeonholed by roles and for being "the kind of person I aspire to be"

And lastly, but by no means least, David Jenkins himself. He's having a lovely time from the looks of things, and he's so quick and witty and astute. I can't recall a lot of specifics but he was very excited about the muppets and insisted on a selfie with the whole table to send to his wife.

We did have a brief discussion about the state of TV at the moment and I brought up my favourite thing of streaming's downfall matching the history of the golden age and he agreed that when they got the budget for OFMD S1, at the time it "felt like Cecil B DeMills just throwing money at everything".

He also got very excited about tiny glow-in-the-dark unicorns that were being handed out, claimed one and named it Pepsi Jenkins. "Great name for a pet, awful name for a child"

It's been a lovely time and that was all while running on fumes. Day 2 is about to start, so I'm off for brekkie and to nab some munchies from the buffet

[thewalrusespublicist]

"Tbh I was starting to feel a bit down about my blog and what I was putting out ( the eternal crisis on how to give full answers and opinions without being stupid, boring and annoying lol)"

OMG no way! Your blog is one of the best here! What i love the most is reading the analysis and meta from the users, there's always more information and good takes, and yours are always quite deep and insightful.

I would love if you share your opinions about Stuart as well. I feel like he is obviously more sanctified that he should be since he died young (like that insane quote from his mom saying that Brian told her that Stuart could have been the Beatles' manager, no way lol) and i feel his memory has been used to attack Paul, sometimes in a very unfair way. Like, i don't deny the teenage drama and jealousy that Paul felt about him but he *was* a shitty bass player and the band was Paul's future, he was allowed to criticized him not only for being John's new bestie. I also think John played with them both but i lack of your eloquence so i will love to read your take about it.

Hi anon! And the other anons!

Thank you again and to all the other messages I got, they were extremely sweet and really made my day. :)

From my inbox, it's clear you guys want to know about Stu and his role in the Beatles legacy. Well you asked for it and a novel you shall have. Be warned this might be the longest post I've done so grab like a drink or something.

A few disclaimers: I wish and had intended for this to be more of a deep dive into Stu as a whole person rather than just his relationship with John and Paul. Unfortunately I just didn't have the space to do it. If you want to know more about Stu I would highly recommend @eppysboys' blog which is the source for all things Stu Sutcliffe and where I got a lot of this info. Please check their stuff out. Also, I'm going to be a bit blunter on this than maybe I usually am because this topic has been irritating me for some time. Oh also I’m trying my best to answer a lot of asks in one post so please forgive if I don’t fully answer your specific ask about this!

Stu in a perfect world should be a fandom darling: an exciting cipher, a handsome artistic talent that died way too soon who had a major influence in the early Beatles style. It's like there’s this secret other James Dean looking mf Beatle hidden away to uncover, that's cool and he is cool! The problem is that he’s sort of becomes radioactive to talk about in a normal way due to how he's been portrayed and utilised in some biographies and fandom spaces, particularly those that have been infected by John Lennon aspirational boy bestie syndrome. As those types of spaces cannot seem to exist without tearing down Paul to prop John up as their special lil guy, Stu as John's other best friend has become the ideal heavy object to hit Paul McCartney over the head with. It's like a corrosive element, the minute Stu hits a Beatles bio, the biographer suddenly loses all training in objectivity and source work and starts waxing lyrical about 100 percent reliable never biased or wrong Saint Stu of Hamburg who died for our condom arson sins and that Paul McCartney should feel bad about every day of his life for not worshipping Stu and not accepting his own ‘place’ in life as John's just-some-guy placeholder best friend. I’ve personally seen so many posts and forums where Stu being mentioned leads to a legion of comments about how Paul could never have been Stu (correct both ways) and how John would never have even glanced at Paul for much longer if Stu had been alive. Sidenote: If you seriously think that the musical savant from down the road whom John went on to produce the most prolific song writing partnership in history with couldnt have kept his attention for long then I'm begging you on hands and knees to get your head out of the arse of your John Lennon body pillow and be serious. But anyway…

This boy bestie battle royale approach has in turn lead to a reflex reaction where Stu gets studiously ignored by other sections of the fandom as a precedent has been set that shining a light on him diminishes Paul and John's relationship with Paul. It's frustrating because if people weren't so keen to cut Paul out of his own story then we would get a much better nuanced view of every single person involved.

So let's put aside all of our defenses, cut the John Lennon loved one ranking system bullshit and lets look at the actual question here which is what was John and Stu's relationship really like and what did he mean to John?

John and Stu met at art college a year or so after Paul and John met. Up to that point John and Paul had their fun little codependant thing going on but Stu quickly became a huge fixture in John's life. Stu had things that Paul couldn't really offer at that point in time. John was at his heart a musician who aspired to be seen as an artist (he would later express surprise that he didn't become an artist). Stu was the passionate artist who knew tons about the art of the period that could teach and inspire John. Their creative leanings meant they could work on projects together and share art notebooks and poetry. (Including yes the one with anti-semitic story which I mention again as I believe it's an important thing to remember when it comes to both John and Stu and the culture of the time.) Stuart by the sounds of it was even writing a novel about John at the time of his death. They were fascinated and inspired by each other.

So, creatively they fired each other up but more importantly perhaps, Stu and John were peers. It's funny to think about when you see the Beatles later but at the time Paul and George were the kids in their school uniform coming to see their cool older friend at art school. That's an important divide. When Paul and George's parents insisted their kids do their homework and go to bed, John and Stu could stay up and talk all hours of the night, which they did. They also could rent a place together and spend long hours chatting (despite John moving out later after realising electricity cost money lol.) There's a different dynamic that the age similarity offered as well. Whilst Paul would later somewhat grow into this role, Stu could act as an authority figure to John as well as open up to John in a way you can really only do with your peers. Stu was the person John opened up to throughout Stu's life:

How long can one go on writing and writing like you. I now don’t really know who I’m writing to or why it’s quiet peculiar. I usually write like this and forget about it but if I put it in a little part of my [almost?] secret self in the hands of someone miles away who will wonder what the hell is going on or just pass it off as toilet paper. Anyway I don’t care really what happens because when I think about it, it’s so bloody unimportant – but what is important who has the right to say that this letter is not important and this is a something any way – anyway – anyway – yeah! I wonder what it would be like to be a cretin or something. I bet it’s gear. & how are you keepin Stuart old chap are you as ok – is life as good – bad shite, great – wonderful as it was or is it just a thousand years of nothing and coolness on and on and on. I think this is it Goodbye Stu don’t write out of – er what is it? well not because you think you ought to write when you feel like So goodbye (from John you know the one with glasses) ANYWAY BYE BYE see you soon I don’t know why I said that I remember a time when everyone I loved hated me because I hated them so what so what so fucking what I remember a time when belly buttons were knee high when only shitting was dirty and everything else clean + beautiful I can’t remember anything without a sadness So deep that it hardly becomes known to me so deep that its tears leave me a spectator of my own STUPIDITY + so I go rambling on with a hey nonny nonny nonny no

Extract from a letter to Stuart Sutcliffe from John Lennon, 1961

By lots of accounts Stu was gentle but firm when it came to telling John he'd gone too far. John references this aspect of Stu to Hunter Davies:

"I looked up to Stu. I depended on him to tell me the truth. Stu would tell me if something was good and I'd believe him."

The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (Hunter Davies)

In this way I kind of see Stu as a proto-Yoko. John was so insecure and uncertain about his grip on the world and reality that he relied on Stu to be his point of reference and guide. Paul did this too later and I think in Hunter Davies John mentions this, but not at this time period and not as much due to their competitiveness. This may be why some people saw Stu as the person that really understood John at this time period:

"During the turbulent adolescence that prefaced a turbulent manhood, hardly anyone knew Lennon as intimately as Stuart Sutcliffe. If they weren't exactly David and Jonathan, June Furlong, one of the life models at Liverpool's Regional College of Art, had "never seen two teenagers as close as those two."

The Gospel According To Lennon by Alan Clayson

Now this person likely never met John and Paul together but this is only one of many similar quotes and even Julia captain of John and Paul's friendship boat seems to agree there was a period where Stu dominated and Paul 'kept his distance' from the John-Cyn-Stu 'menage-a-trois'. But the friendship wasn't perfect and his position as John's ultimate best friend was never iron clad. This is best outlined by the shit they pulled when John convinced him to join on Bass for the Beatles.

Despite being John's best friend, Stu was teased and bullied:

"They argued as usual amongst themselves, but most of all they picked on Stu, the newest member of the group. John, George and Paul had been with each other long enough to know that rows and arguments and criticism didn't mean much. If it did, you just argued back. "We were terrible," says John. "We'd tell Stu he couldn't sit with us, or eat with us. We'd tell him to go away, and he did." At one hotel they stayed at, a variety show had just left. There had been a dwarf in the show and they found out which bed he had slept in and said that would have to be Stu's. They certainly weren't going to sleep in it. So Stu had to. "That was how he learned to be with us," says John. "It was all stupid, but that was what we were like."

The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (Hunter Davies)

Why John encouraged this I have no idea, maybe jealousy over Stu's looks and wanting to play people off each other? Things were tense in both Scotland and Hamburg, especially between Stu and Paul. As I said in my last post, the girls were fighting and it was mutual. Paul was mad for both fair and immature teenage-boy reasons. Stu could not be bothered with the bass most of the time and couldn't really play well and was only there as he was '(John's) best friend' (ouch for Paul). Paul conversely had given up higher education to be there and was sending lots of money back home. He also was dating the girl Paul fancied. Stu was popular with the new group and also did mean things like help John steal Paul's money when money was really tight for him. Paul in turn was a passive aggressive, jealous and mean. It all came to ahead in the punch up onstage which according to Spitz came about from Paul wanting money back and saying that Stu could borrow some from Astrid. Stu goes for him and reports vary from full-on bust up to embarrassing scuffle. Stu then goes to where Astrid and Paul's gf Dot are, demands Dot leaves and goes on a rant about Paul. Now all of this must be framed in the context of Stu receiving increasing brain damage from his condition that seemingly lead to mood swings and anger. Nevertheless, the mutual needling and anger, as well as John's refusal to do/say fuck all about it, especially given how protective John was of Stu, suggests that it wasn’t straightforward and/or John may have been playing some games to make both feel threatened. This would also make sense as to why we hear conflicting accounts of John and Stu being the centre of everything and everyone else in orbit AND John and Paul being the centre and everyone else playing catch-up, as well as John giving Paul the lead to take him round the Reeperbahn when John got dressed in the gorilla costume. (I know Paul may have just been the closest there but that always gave off bestie behaviour to me.)

(I did get an ask about how John and Paul's friendship survived it, I think it was damaged by Hamburg. When Paul got back home he got a job at a construction site and there's just a vibe of everything being a bit on tenterhooks. John also acts a bit weird at the period, not talking to anyone for a few weeks then making a lot of weird demands from Paul. I'm really not sure what to make of it.)

Even when he's back in Liverpool, John still writes long letters to Stu and vice-versa. I can't find it at all but I’ve read a really sad interview with John saying he missed his best mate and it's a shame that he's not with them. He had no idea at that point that Stu had already died of a brain hemorrhage at 21.

John is said to have gone into hysterics when he found out Stu had died. A lot of people who've spoken about this time (Aunt Mimi, his sister Julia, the Exsis) concur that at this point Stu was his best friend and the death shattered him. He even told Astrid he wished he could give his life for Stu’s. This is backed up by the fact that John never forgot Stu and his shadow lingered for the rest of John's life:

Stu was recalled in In My Life

Years later, after John composed the first of his truly poignant and heartfelt Beatles songs, "In My Life"—with its lines about "friends I still can recall/some are dead and some are living"—he revealed to me that the two people he had had uppermost in mind were myself and Stuart Sutcliffe. And then he stunned me with a statement that I'd never heard him address to anyone—least of all to another man. "You know, Pete," he said softly, "I do love you. But," he quickly added, "I loved Stuart as well."

Weird that Paul isn't mentioned surely you think that he would be mentioned if Pete was there too okay, okay my tin hat is going away this isn't the time

Pete Shotton, Nicholas Schaffner, John Lennon: In My Life

In 1965 John drew Stu on a postcard

He apparently said this about Stu prior to sending the postcard, prompted by an article about Stuart.

The card had been sent from Genoa mid-way through the Beatles' Italian tour. [...] But the conversation had become maudlin when I reminded him that he was going to talk to me for an article about Stuart. [...] In that sad telephone conversation before they set off for Milan, I asked him if he was happy: 'I'd be a lot happier if Stuart was still part of us,' he said, 'The Beatles would be complete.' And before he rang off he said 'Ill send you something.'

He also appears on the cover of Sgt Pepper

As mentioned, Stu gets mentioned in Hunter Davies in terms of wistfulness and guilt AND he gets a mention in John's insane 'if I were a homosexual' ramblings in early 70s. According to Yoko, John also wanted Yoko to write letters to him and didn't think it would be strange because Stu wrote letters to him.

I have a pet theory that as with a lot of things for John, his unresolved grief over Stu really came to the fore in the late 60s now that he had actually had a chance to sit down and think about things. I believe it was partially why he wanted Yoko to write letters and why he gets mentioned in the early 70s as a collaborator/best friend and not in 1980 where John only gives that credit to Paul and Yoko. I think with the cracks with Paul, John had started to think back on his old friend and guide and what advice he would give.

Stuarts presence is still felt throughout the seventies:

“He told me everything. He loved to talk about Hamburg. There were no secrets. It was the kind of life I never knew…. It meant total freedom. At his side always was Stuart, sweet Stuart. There wasn’t a time in John’s life when he didn’t think about Stuart. He spoke always of his love and respect for Stuart.”

Yoko discussing Stu in When They Were Boys: The True Story of the Beatles’ Rise to the Top by Larry Kane

Coming to grips with his death is also present in Skywriting

SEAN O’HAIRE: What happened to Stuart Cliff? DR. FISCHY: What happened was a full exchange of energy where it was not needed within the expression of your own self or in the energies involved around and about you. We cannot call it a happening. We’ll say it is an awakening, for in that way it has served an expression from the past to the present and to the future to where there shall be more of that incomplete vibration expressed to you in a more fuller understanding.

Skywriting by Word of Mouth, John Lennon

This isn't exhaustive but I think from all this it's pretty clear that John adored Stu, John grieved Stu and kept grieving Stu. Stu had a specific place in his life as a confidant that he tried to recreate with Yoko. At the time of Stu's death, he was John's best friend, probably slightly over Paul. Stuart had been able to be both a friend and paternal presence, a confidant and an artistic collaborator. His presence and loss was one of the foundational points in John's life.

But as we've been asked to play this stupid game and so many bios like to make a hoopla about it, were they at their closest ever as close as John and Paul were at their height?

No.

How do we know? Because John told us so:

" He [Paul] still is the closest friend I've ever had, except for Yoko, so I'm still close to him whatever goes on."

John Lennon to an interviewer, 1971

But Walrus! John just says shit! How do we know he isn't leaving out Stu because the press don't know Stu. Well true John does just say shit but this is at a time where John isn't the most glowing about Paul and he's had no problem mentioning Stu in this time period ('one of my best friends ever' would have made a similar point).

But Walrus again! If John picked Stu over Paul when they were young why wouldn't he be the boy bestie of all time, and why would John say that he was closer to Paul? Well, because of the environment and timings. Stu's death happened near the beginning of John and Paul's major bonding moments. If you look at their personal timeline, Paris, the Nerk twins, and getting signed happened just before Stu died. That's missing the major years of Beatlemania, Key West, LSD, Paul growing more into being John's peer and a load of other huge moments in their lives. It's like how John writes to Cyn in 1962 about wanting the house to themselves and not have Paul around all the time. Would you say because he feels closer to Cyn then that John in his overall lifetime loved Cyn more than Paul? No, because relationships change over time and theirs were no exception. (One thing to consider as well is that we don't yet have many letters between John and Paul during their Beatles years and earlier, probably because they were spending so much time with each other. We know a couple exist that Paul considers too personal for publication but I'm sure there are others. It's easy to understand what John felt for Stu as we have the letters, I think we would also have an easier time understanding what John felt for Paul if we had the equivalent of those.)

At the end of the day Paul was the man he believed he had a psychic bond with, the man he couldn’t shut up about, the man whom he’d conquered the world with with their endless collaboration, the man with a twin personality to him and according to John spent more time with throughout the 60s than he had with Yoko ever. To be frank if Paul had died in 67' I don't think this would have been a conversation.

As mentioned early, in early 1970s John elevates his partnership with Stu to his collaborations with Paul and Yoko but by 1980 he’s pretty clear that Paul and Yoko are their own category.

"I was saying to somebody the other day, “There’s only two artists I’ve ever worked with for more than a one night stand, as it were. That’s Paul McCartney, and Yoko Ono.” And I think that’s a pretty damned good choice!!"

John Lennon interview with DJ Dave Sholin, 1980

There are of course the what ifs. Would Stu still being alive mean that John was not as close with Paul? Maybe, highly doubtful though as the Beatles experience was so intense. If Stu remained a Beatle would John be as close with Paul? If Stu remained a Beatle he wouldn't be Stu so no. At the same time who knows what it would have been like if Paul and John were peers from the off? I said this to @the62ndbugsfan when it comes to Stu vs Paul (hi girl sorry i've made our chat a whole ass post lol) but to go a bit Wuthering Heights, soulmates are made as much from the earth as they are of the stars. What binds us is our experiences just as much as our personalities. There may be a universe where Stu and John took on the art world together or became inseparable bffs again after the Beatles disbanded, but it is not our universe. In this universe Stu tragically died and John and Paul chose to become Lennon/McCartney and artistically unite themselves forever.

Even going back to Stu's lifetime, I've said it before and I'll say it again I find it interesting that not only did John choose to go to Paris with Paul rather than pay to meet up with Stu somewhere but that they arranged to meet up with Juergen and nobody told Stu until they'd already gone. Stu was shocked and didn't know if it meant the end of the Beatles which is a pretty big thing for him not to know about. Why didn't John tell him if they're apparently still writing long letters? Was it because he really wanted to do this with Paul and didn't want to hurt Stu's feelings? And that's really the point I want to make here. Due to his trauma John was preoccupied with reinforcing ranking of relationships within his life. But the thing is friendship rankings are made up guidelines and the reality is far more complicated. You can have a designated best friend but feel closer to another friend at times, you can want to do one thing specifically with one friend and not the other for various reasons. You can (as I do) have more than one equal best friend. Friendship as with most relationships are in a constant state of flux and each friendship you have will give and mean a different thing, even if they are of similar value to you.

Paul may have ended up closer to John than Stu had been, but that doesen't make John's relationship with Stu any less special. Nor does Stu negate the significance of Paul. Whilst both fit into John's pattern of intense relationships and demands related to that, both had unique positions and meaning to him. Considering what I've gone into about John's closeness to Stu, it actually says something deeply, borderline unnervingly, intense about John and Paul that Paul pipped Stu to the post. Maybe it's time Beatles bios accept the fact that John Lennon just wouldn't be into them like that, stop using a tragically prematurely deceased young man as a prop in their jealous psychological warfare against Paul McCartney, stop perpetuating one of the most damaging games that John did to his loved ones and allow both relationships the space to shine and showcase the amazing talent that was the Beatles and those that surrounded them.

[danwhobrowses]

One Piece Chapter 1143 - Initial Thoughts

And we return

Oda gave himself a well deserved break but now we're back in business

Children are wandering, Nightmares are raging, and the Accursed Prince has set a fire. Things are finally happening in Elbaf

so what will happen next?

Spoilers for the Chapter, Support the Official Release too

A colour spread of racing on flying fish graces us this time

Jinbe how are you that far back? And I'm surprised Usopp's not riding with Nami (not that way!) and Robin's not riding with Franky (that way!) - at least there's the underrated Zoro/Chopper combo as they're neck and neck with Luffy

Sanji stans are gonna look way too into the tagline 'speed is the weapon'

There are words on the arms though which may have a sneaky message, but it just looks like sailing and sea buzzwords to me; Nami has 'CHANNEL', 'SONAR', and 'STORM', Sanji has 'STRATO' and something on his leg, Luffy has 'VOYAGE', Zoro has 'PORTHOLE', so yeah nothing that sounds like it's a clue

It still tickles me that one of the nightmares is just a ghost with a hat XD

Saul goes to the sleepwalking children trying to wake them, noticing Gunko's arrow as a white cloth

Robin - who's in his beard with Chopper - warns Saul against touching the kids like Mr Wolf said, but Saul sees no threat and tries anyway

The moment he tries to grab a child, he's impaled by invisible thorns

The thorns must be painful for Saul to writhe from it, given how he once tanked a navy warship's cannon to the face - but Robin and Chopper don't know what hit him

Miss Ange announces the predicament across Elbaf using a unique den den mushi

Only nine of the kids are sleepwalking right now, maybe there's a limit to how many Gunko can round up?

The feasting giants worry about the children, especially with the threat of beasts attacking

They are being led to the Eighth Branch...which happens to be near the fire Loki just caused

Jarul worries about the kids, including his Great Great Granddaughter, Ylva, who was named earlier in the chapter as one of the sleepwalking kids

Nami angrily notes that the giants, and Usopp, are way too drunk to respond to the threat

Elbaf's fire brigade (Fire-Svalr) are here though

Svalr is a weird choice since in Norse it means 'cold', so the Cold Fire has come XD alternatively it could mean a cold burning, which would be bad too

The Draugr nightmare appears and knocks the Fire-Svalr away though

Back over to the God's Knights and Sommers seems to be a sadist, enjoying the look of Saul's face in pain

Once again he waxes lyrical about love, but Gunko doesn't entertain him

They are literally having a meal while this is all happening

Seems that the more love you have, the deeper the thorns will go

So this man is definitely a Sanji enemy

He also looks forward to seeing the kids' parents be subject to the thorns, just to remind you that these are bad guys

Naturally, the thorns are his doing: the Thorn-Thorn Fruit makes him a Briar Man

It seems to be paramecia but I wouldn't put it past being a logia just to put all 3 fruit types on display

Gunko is leading the kids through a central route to a harbour she saw, the harbour however is right by the village where the feast is happening, so Sommers might get his wish

Killingham requests some salt from Sommers, and seems to cause him to fall asleep

Sommers then dreams of salt that Killingham spawns into life, just as he has done to the nightmares

As expected, Killingham is a Dragon-Dragon Fruit: Model Qilin zoan, though the brackets do say he's a 'dream-materializing man'

Qilin don't have dream powers though, this still sounds like a Baku to me, but it's not worth looking too deeply into

It's interesting to note too that Killingham put an adult to sleep, so poses the question why he only put the kids to sleep and not the teachers?

The God's Knights also seem to have access to a painter in order to escape via rainbow

Sommers laments the ease of the game, but don't worry I'm pretty sure this won't go as smoothly as you expect

The entire meal came from dreams - Luffy would love that - and that means they're zero calories - everyone would probably love that

Gunko is aware of the Straw Hats' presence though

And just to remind you that the God's Knights are awful people, they note how the branch the kids are walking towards is on fire, and they don't care - if they die they'll just bring the next batch over

Back to Loki and he stands by his threat, goading Hajrudin to do something

He notes how nobody can even lift his hammer Ragnir - probably a Mjolnir MCU nod

Gerd notes that they won't let him make any more victims, but Loki notes how the fires means there will be victims anyway

He offers surrender or fight, but he never actually says fight, he huffs instead from his injuries

Sanji wants to be caught up on things, but Luffy's still focused on his wounds, even when he threatens to kill every 'weakling' in the Sun realm

Hajrudin looks to appease to Loki's demands, but Zoro tells him not to

Luffy counters Loki's threat noting how he promised to beat him up if he tried anything

Oh Hajrudin, don't you know that Lightning doesn't affect Rubber?

Gerd tries to appeal to Loki using the children, but Loki's ready to fight

Zoro however calls out Luffy about letting him off easy, noting how his wounds are about to reopen

Luffy preps an attack, and it seems that Loki already futuresights his defeat, lamenting his loss

Not even a regular haki hit, an 'Arm Balloon' strikes Loki with little impact and he keels over

Detective Zoro notes how Loki was bluffing, barely keeping himself up as it was

He leaves it to either Luffy or Hajrudin to tend to his wounds, it's unclear who he's directing this at

Rodo quietly wonders if there's a connection to the castle attack and Loki's injuries

Luffy requests for Hajrudin to save Loki's life, since he doesn't want to watch him die

It seems Hajrudin accepts Luffy's requests, as we next see Gerd treating him, it'll take months for a full recovery though

Gerd notes that being in the Realm of the Dead will affect his recovery, but the village won't be so forgiving and would probably execute them if they brought Loki there

Loki doesn't mind staying, but he calls the giants' hatred 'unforgivable garbage'

Luffy notes how Loki's horns are real, being reminded how it's the mark of ancient giants and how Harald also had them

Hajrudin flashes back to his childhood, his still-horned father asking his sons to get along and do what's best for Elbaf

Followed by a young Loki beating him up surrounded by a crowd of giants, he claims he can't call a weakling brother

And for added salt he calls Hajrudin a bastard, illegitimate as an heir, and says his mother had dirty blood

Interesting to note that Loki's eyes are bandaged even in youth

But with that memory in his mind, Hajrudin raises his axe aloft with the intent to kill

Rodo and Stansen hold him back before he commits

Hajrudin refuses to forgive Loki though, citing the valid reasons of how he insulted his mother and killed his father

Loki challenges Hajrudin to do it, being bored with his 'weeping warrior' behaviour

He accuses Hajrudin of being drunk on the personal drama and asks him an important question

Does he truly believe that Loki killed their father in cold blood?

So here comes the complexity that we were expecting from Loki. He has a reason, but what is that reason exactly? At the same time even if he has one there's the matter of him being naturally deceptive too, can we even trust Loki to be telling the truth? Hajrudin too, those cuts clearly run deep.

Knowing that the kids are en route to the village invites the conflict of parents unable to help their children, which is actually a difficult spot for them, almost another layer to the God's Knights' sadism to parade their children past them as they're powerless to stop it. But there are shown to potentially be limitations to their powers, plus Gunko's arrow isn't at the village yet so its trajectory could in fact be changed.

This puts us on three fronts; the village, the school, and the realm of the dead. Franky and Ripley are likely to come down to the kids now that it's been announced of the danger afoot, but with the nightmares preventing the stop of the fire that's where the likely combat for this first stage will unfold. I do like that Oda has quickly reminded the audience that although quirky the God's Knights are pieces of shit. With Sommers being a likely lock for Sanji (or at the most Gaban) it's still a toss up whether Gunko or Killingham will be an Usopp opponent. The numbers still need buffing to involve everything else though, the nightmares shouldn't bother the Straw Hats so much.

Given Loki's injuries and the length of his recovery time, he is unlikely to be a major threat to the Monster Trio, but that fire is still a problem and the more it gets left unchecked the more of a problem it'll be. It's a slow start to shit hitting the fan but it is one that continues to feed us more information about the situation and the opponents we are facing.

[foxes-that-run]

Maroon

Maroon is looking back on her relationship with Harry in a linear way. It was the surprise song 26 May, 2023, the first show after 20 May.

'Red'...

Taylor wrote 10 of the final 30 Red TV tracks after Harry entered the chat in March. @taylor-on-your-dash has this Making of Red post which shows it was complete 4 months after they met, it's release was 7 months after 'The Very First Night'.

It is wild to me that people say Red can't be Haylor but 1989 was inspired by a '3 month relationship', yet Reputation is about Joe, who she started dating 5 months before it's release, Rep was mostly done by then. Rep's vault tracks will surprise some more than 1989's did!

All this is to say, we know Maroon is Haylor because it is not filled with All Too Well rage and the title references Red. The Lyric Video also includes a pink/maroon sunset, which similar to sunsets referenced in Cruel Summer, INTHAF and Slut!

Lyrics

When the morning came we were cleaning incense off your vinyl shelf 'Cause we lost track of time again Laughing with my feet in your lap Like you were my closest friend "How'd we end up on the floor anyway?" You say "Your roommate's cheap-ass screw-top rosé, that's how" I see you every day now

The first verse remembers the start

Harry's unreleased track, Hunger, is similar in meaning to Maroon. It opens with a similar line "Candles burned down to the floor." New Years Day also includes Candle wax on the hardwood floors.' Finally, Taylor included the incense in the lyric and music videos for Lavender Haze.

The first verse is very 1989 feeling, they sound young, hanging out and enjoying each others company. The room mate is most likely Ben Winston, he stayed with Ben while dating Taylor and renovating his current house. some of the This is Us Harry scenes were shot there.

And I chose you The one I was dancin' with In New York, no shoes Looked up at the sky and it was

Harry and Taylor danced with no shoes in New York after 1D's first Madison Square Garden performance 4 December 2012. Taylor is looking up to the sky in the photo of Harry lifting her.

Harry also mentioned barefeet in the leaked Trouble "And we could take this anywhere / Cause were we’re going / We don’t need no shoes" Trouble was leaked 20 April 22, 6 months before Midnights.

The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed your wine into me And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was The mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones The lips I used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon

This verse remembers a passionate fight, like the album Red Taylor described the emotions from that period as red, and later on Lover as Golden. The wine stained dress or shirt here is also in:

Olivia “This isn't the stain of a red wine, I'm bleeding love”

Clean “you're still all over me like a wine stained dress i can't wear anymore"

Blood rushing to cheeks is blushing, in Gold Rush Taylor also referenced this "I don't like anticipatin' my face in a red flush"

The mark on Taylors collarbone may be the possible hickey here, from the night before she left the Virgin isles.

Rust growing between telephones indicates they stopped calling, Harry also references this in From the Dining Table “Even my phone misses your call, by the way”

When the silence came, we were shaking blind and hazy How the hell did we lose sight of us again? Sobbin' with your head in your hands Ain't that the way shit always ends? You were standin' hollow-eyed in the hallway Carnations you had thought were roses, that's us I feel you no matter what The rubies that I gave up

This verse is the aftermath of the fight in the one before, with apology flowers, not talking and paying for it.

Harry cries with his head in his hands

Now that we don't talk and Afterglow "I lived like an island, punished you in silence" also refer to silence/not speaking

'The rubies I gave up' to me is treasure, rubies being the red theme. To me this is in the Pay for it' Haylor theme, however Taylor has referred to her friends as Junior Jewels in YBTM, she may have she lost friends in the break up.

Standin Hollow-eyed in the Hallway refers to the Hallway theme

The carnations not roses means they were plagued by things going wrong. Harry referenced the Carnations in the Satellite MV:

And I wake with your memory over me That's a real fucking legacy, legacy (it was maroon)x2

The outtro is after some time has passed, she wakes from an adult dream remembering her lost muse. Taylor and Harry have a surprising number of songs about this:

Wildest Dreams (Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha (ha-ah, ha) / Wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha / You'll see me in hindsight / Tangled up with you all night

Ready for it...? In the middle of the night, in my dreams (my dreams) You should see the things we do (we do), baby (baby, mmm, eh)

Little Freak - "You bring blue lights to dreams" and "A wet dream just dangling"

Cruel Summer "Fever dream high in the quiet of the night / You know that I caught it"

[definitely-rubbish]

Hey! First off, just wanted to say how great your writing is. I know a couple of people have already mentioned it, but I don’t think it ever hurts to thank the people whose work you enjoy. It’s honestly a joy every time I read something of yours.

Also, I wanted to ask if you’ve got any album recommendations. I’m really into music and how it can properly make you feel things. I’d love to find more records that take you on a journey from start to finish, and you really seem to know your stuff when it comes to music, so I thought I’d ask.

Thanks again for everything you do. Sending a big hug from Spain!

this is one of my favourite asks ever, thank you thank you for not only being so lovely about my writing, but giving my the oppurtunity to talk about music!!! I really value your words. there's never enough times people can tell me what my fics mean to them, it really keeps me going. i'm in awe and total gratitude every occassion, so i'm very happy you enjoy my work this much and i value it very much! I will go total album ramble mode under the cut :]

I'm going to list 8 here, but i've got a few more if you would like them, just let me know or reach out! but in no particular order, here's some albums and the journeys i think they take you on.

This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours by the Manic Street Preachers - very much the journey of truth, grief, and longing flowing under typical manics political messaging and cultural signposts. cannot be removed from the context of Richey's disappearance, which both adds and is integral to the fabric of this album. You are in dialogue with both your inner self and nicky wire's lyrics, as well as the pain the entire band were dealing with. we are all guided by these emotions and this album guides us not to acquitting them, but acknowledging that they are foundational to our humanity. that's my truth, anyway. technically a britpop album but i believe it furthers that in all the right places.

And The Hits Just Keep On Coming by Michael Nesmith - i wax poetic about michael nesmith whenever i possibly can, and probably when i shouldn't. he is one of my favourite lyricists and his impact on current music cannot go unstated. This album was a response to both pressure to conform by music execs, as well as an affair he had that led to a child with a woman who was not his wife, and a divorce. and yet. YET. this is one of the most dignified albums i have ever heard. he respectfully extends a grace, and humility to his wife, admits that he has done wrong, and keeps going. despite how able he is to admit the depths of his despair, there is such hope in the soul of ever song that you don't realise how heartbreaking it all is until you've finished the album and already promised to be a better person in the future. More stripped back that his previous stuff, or his work with the monkees, yet defiantly His sound. The Upside of Goodbye and Roll With The Flow are two of my favourite songs of all times. one of my favourite albums ever. excellence in the face of the loss of integrity. only he could do it. a journey thru nez's psyche, and hope in hard times.

The Final Cut by Pink Floyd - i tried not to stray into Concept albums when doing these, but i'll make an exception here, because this is my favourite pink floyd album. i remember first listening to it and leaving the living room to lay down in my bed and soak it all up. inspired by the start of the falklands war, roger waters highlights the deceit of the british government with the brutal honesty it deserves about war, violence, and the ongoing threat of nuclear terror. never does he shy away, and though the recording of this album was a tumultuous time for the band, i believe it adds to what this album is worth. especially prevalent today.

Queen II by Queen - not exactly a concept album but not not a concept album, but it's a queen album and they're my special interest so in this goes. Basically two journeys in one; instead of the regular A-side/B-side we see with vinyls, Queen bring forth The White Side, predominantly brian may tracks with one roger taylor tune that deal with the exponential Reality of human emotions through grandiose imagery, and The Black Side, all freddie mercury tracks that deal with terrestrial fantasy through a uniquely human lens, and the life that can be held within fairytales (+ complexities therein). There is a medley of 3 songs on each side, and the White Queen medley is one of the most beautiful succession of songs to ever grace music. i truly believe. It's Queen's second album and yet they are already proving themselves as giants of their craft - thru a mainly prog rock sound (but delving further, naturally) - of which no one can truly define but many are amazed at. compelled further into.

Silent Passage by Bob Carpenter - though sonically brilliant and lyrically phenomenal, i would suggest a more ambiguous definition of Journey when thinking of this one. I knew when i first listened to this album that it would be incredibly important to me, because i couldn't fathom how this gem could go overlooked for all these years. That there are such few people privy to this album. My heart breaks for the artist, and for the album, and the songs. it is a journey of acceptance that music will find you if it means something, and can leave an impact. It is folk-esque, and to me feels like a pilgrimage to nowhere. the opening track Miracle Man sets the tone fantastically, but i think the soul of the album is in First Light, which i use as inspiration in most things i do. i hold this album in incredibly high esteem.

Gigi's Recovery by The Murder Capital - dark and foreboding, this is one of my favourite albums of the 2020s so far. TMC have a similar sound to Fontaines DC but, imo, surpass them. the album a journey of Gigi's Recovery, yes, though who that is, and what that represents, and the consequences of that throughout the rest of the album is entirely up to interpretation. It's an intense listen without being scary. every song is warratned in its sound and what it provokes from you. it is also incredibly vulnerable in a way i treasure. Ethel and The Stars Will Leave Their Stage are particular highlights.

Chill Out by KLF - an ambient soundscape album from electronic band klf. it's literally supposed to be like a journey through america, and you feel it. i'm a lyrical person but i do not feel as if I'm missing anything by the absence of any here. very vibey and worth the experience. would recommend listening on youtube where you can listen to the original version rather than the reissue which misses some stuff out. noel gallagher brought it on his first roadie tour of america with the inspirals and apparently it was the Sound of the Tour! so nicely ordained.

So Long I Screamed by Holy Ghost Tent Revival - if Chill Out is a train ride thru middle america then So Long I Screamed is a steamboat ride through the south of the country. totally bluegrass and raucuous. I adore it. populated with laughs and applause and a personality that really puts you into the fun with the band. nice surprises dotted around that juxtapose the upbeat sound at times, and adds to the rich texture the album gives of summer, sun, and serenity with the unknown, i find. we don't know where we're going but look at us doing it anyway.

let me know if you listen to any of these and what your thoughts are! i hope this was helpful in some way and again, thank you for asking! i love to talk about music and give recommendations so this is really a dream. Have a lovely day and my sincerest gratitude for your kindness!!!

[wordsandrobots]

Falling for a Fool: Afterword

A confession: I cannot get through episode 45 of Iron-Blooded Orphans, properly, without coming to the verge of tears. I have discovered that if I turn the sound off, I can make it about as far as the back half of episode 46 without that happening. Which made it a lot easier to take screenshots, but it still got me, in the end.

And that's exactly why I fell in love with this show.

It's trite, but I think everyone should have the chance to be moved by something, whatever it is and wherever it comes from. Stories, all artworks in fact, are there to make us feel something. To convey emotion and meaning, to play on the keyboard of our minds and allow us to hallucinate meaningful things in safety. A couple of years back, the thing that moved me was an anime about child soldiers in space, produced to sell model kits. It worked. I did buy a lot of model kits. I also got to have my emotions twisted to bits by a superbly crafted tragedy.

I can wax lyrical about the technicalities of that process. I can do the writerly bit, as I've said before, of pulling apart the mechanics of how this show works and why it hits me so hard. That doesn't change the fact it *does* hit me, hard, and that's why I've spent my time since first watching it writing so much about it. It was exactly what I needed to see, when I saw it, and the inspiration it has given me has been absolutely wonderful.

I guess the reason I decided to run back through the imagery of the series, and specifically that concerning Yamagi and Shino's relationship, is that I wanted to check my working. I'm nearly at the end of the huge story I developed off the back of my first fanfic for IBO, the culmination of two and a half years of work. When I post it, likely at the start of August 2024, I will have approaching 650,000 words worth of 'here's how I would do a follow-up' on Ao3. That's a lot. For me, it's a hitherto unheard-of amount of consistent work.

Yet it started, very simply, with this: how do you save Shino?

Because the end to his arc in the show is a moment of deliberate pointlessness. It's got to be, for the narrative to work. But I have a soft heart and more than that, I'd fixated on what precedes the failure of Shino's daring gambit. Those scenes between him and Yamagi throughout episode 45 and the fundamental, unintentional cruelty of asking someone who adores you to enable what is, however much it wasn't supposed to be, your suicide run.

There are any number of ways to save Shino, in the sense of imagining he wasn't actually dead when Flauros was blown off into space in the next episode. It's easy! But which option allows one to best drill into what he and Yamagi are to each other, in that moment where he finally demonstrates he isn't the totally oblivious himbo after all? What is the method that allows them to come together again, not as comet and tail, but something more equal? Something that, rather than just clicking one's fingers and declaring, 'all is well', admits to everything dire and disturbing about Tekkadan.

Because those things are the point. And to me, they are vital to my love of the original work.

So. My apologies for a couple of days of scab-picking on main. I needed it, I think, to look back and see that, yes. What I have done follows (in my own mind at least) from what's on-screen. As much as my fic is essentially a work of reconstruction -- of redeeming love from hopelessness -- the heart of it remains full of rust and sharp fragments, of blood and pain, and a bitter understanding that the world does not care about you in the slightest.

And that the point is to care anyway.

[adventuresinpyjamas]

my ECA went through which is great and all but I have 5 days to finish the essay that has been the bane of my existence so really... who in this situation is winning... also there is a severe weather warning where I am right now lol yay

qotd

no dress rehearsal, this is our life -the tragically hip

🎧 yaelokre

Day 6/28

100!!

going to wax lyrical about achievements because obviously yesterday was hectic, I did my taxes (oops) and applied for financial assistance, called exchange people to ask for scholarship/ funding options and he told me 1. my dream uni actually needed a lower GPA than i thought(!!) 2. there are probably no scholarships for the region ugh

anyway, cleaned the prop room, started a new book (I then promptly lost my book), we wrapped last night!! It was really cute and fun but i didn't get all that much else done unfortunately hahaha oop, also i should probably have chosen a gif that said exit the players lol

To do

write 500 words on KJ :(

skim Daemonologie

IN A STUDY BREAK look at TAM moodboard

bump out!!! I foresee this taking all of my time

get an idea of a gift for Secret Santa (I have four days)

i'm back at the point where I have to say "don't TSH" so yeah\

maybe in a break work on resume

Duo

30/30 xp

2/4 lessons

0/1 stories

Forest

0/1 any tree

0/45 mins any tree

0/4 gingko (I have not unlocked gingko we will see if I can)

[mitochondriaandbunnies]

This is a re-post/archiving of a twitter thread from Oct 16, 2021, edited slightly for clarity.

Know what I haven't done for a while? Waxed philosophical about Miami Vice.

I'm currently stuck in traffic bad enough that people have turned off their cars and are chilling outside, so here goes.

So we have a houseguest who actually ASKED to be subjected to Vice, and Dan immediately suggested we watch Bushido, because let's face it, he's a Castillo Guy, and the "Vice Squad's Lieutenant is a Weird Weeb" episodes are some of his favorites. 

I expressed some hesitation— Bushido is an episode that is very slowly paced (purposefully) and works best when you know the characters and know what the stakes are. We watched it anyway, and it didn't really land the way it should've (although the guest appreciated the Battlestar Galactica connections).

(Traffic cleared. In line for donuts now.) I tried to explain the fact that while Vice is technically an episodic show, it's a precursor to arc based shows in the ways it handles all the characters and their *emotional* arcs— case in point, in Bushido Sonny and Rico both seem *happy.* Castillo earnestly smiles for the first time in the show, and we learn the depths to which duty and honor matter to him (and yet, how much actual RULES really do not— his own code of honor supersedes the law even if he finds ways to pay lip service to it.)

This got me thinking about how Season Two of Miami Vice telegraphs an enormous amount about the characters' eventual arcs and the decisions they'll make throughout the series; practically half of S2 is episodes about Sonny Parallels crashing and burning and how that predicts his own eventual crash. Of course, those are the OBVIOUS things the show tells us about its cast. The thing I find fascinating about S2 is that a LOT of information is broadcast through music and images rather than the script, and Vice expects you to be smart enough to pick up on this and how it will come to fruition later in the series. So much of who Sonny and Rico are isn't spoken, and a lot of the things they say and do later in the series make a lot more sense if you pay attention to music and visual cues early on.

(Gonna drive again, will finish this thought in a bit…)

This, on top of a friend on the Vice Discord asking for a listing of all the music in Vice got me thinking (aloud) about the music in S1&2, and Dan mentioned there were 14 licensed songs in Prodigal Son alone. That reminded me that a few weeks back I'd had a revelation: I had realized something about You Belong to the City, a song specifically written specifically for Vice (I.E., it's a significant piece of music thematically and lyrically), and which plays in Prodigal Son over a sequence of Sonny being distraught in NYC at night. 

I wrote about Prodigal Son last year (2020) and didn't mention that sequence at all except to talk about the weird aggressive roller skater who chases Sonny on a darkened road. At the time, I frankly thought it was a song that was chosen for its sound more than its lyrics, because the lyrics don't really fit with what we're seeing on screen.

The song starts playing about halfway through the first Prodigal Son episode, right after Tubbs reunites with Valerie and leaves Sonny alone in a city he doesn't know and doesn't have any connection to. I've mentioned before that I think, as the opener for S2, Prodigal Son is very much about home and belonging. And the thing is: Sonny doesn't belong in New York. The end of the episode confirms that, at least at that point in the series, it isn't really home for Tubbs either.

Sonny's a Southern Boy, most at home on a boat. You could argue there's some kind of ominous irony in the first 1/2 of the chorus:

Cause you belong to the city You belong to the night Living in a river of darkness Beneath the neon light

But it's not objectively TRUE.

When you start picking apart the rest of the lyrics:

You can feel it Starting all over again The moon comes up And the music calls You're getting tired of Staring at the same four walls

It really starts to fall apart. Sonny isn't *tired* of anything, he didn't choose to go out wandering or to be in the city at all, Tubbs just left him alone to be with his ex-girlfriend. This isn't wanderlust, like the song implies, it's aimlessness. The second half of the chorus and the second verse make it clear that this isn't an accident.

You were born in the city Concrete under your feet It's in your moves It's in your blood You're a man of the street

This... isn't a song about Sonny Crockett. 

You Belong to the City *is about Rico.*

The second verse says:

When you said goodbye You were on the run Trying to get away From the things you've done Now you're back again And you're feeling strange So much has happened But nothing has changed

These are exactly the circumstances Rico is in in this episode—he's the titular Prodigal Son, returned home after a long time to discover things are in some ways exactly as they were, and yet he doesn't fit anymore. It doesn't describe Sonny— Sonny isn't "back," he didn't leave NY "on the run." Rico did!

So, why, then, is a song about Rico playing when Sonny is wandering the city alone? 

Because the idea that Rico *belongs here in NYC* is Sonny's driving fear at this point in the episode. From his perspective, he's been abandoned. He's unmoored. (And I think this is what leaves his guard so far down with Maggie. He is painfully lonely at the best of times throughout the series; alone in NY he's bereft. First port in a storm and all that.) That the episode ends with Take Me Home is a repudiation of that fear—especially considering the more-or-less-overt flirting that occurs when they meet again.

Why is any of this important? Because Vice is a series that often takes Show Don't Tell as far as you can go without becoming French New Wave: Now on TV! I argued last year that Prodigal Son intended for a savvy audience to read Sonny as bisexual; the seemingly incongruous lyrical use of You Belong to the City both confirms that and adds the extra wrinkle that *Tubbs needs to be considered in that equation.* 

Which is to say: the first episode of Season Two decides to make a statement about where the season is going, and that statement is that *the relationship between Sonny and Rico is import\ant and vital and that they both have a concept of home that involves each other.* Considering where the rest of the series goes, that makes the eventual unraveling of their relationship as Sonny falls apart just about the closest thing the  series has to a full overarching plot. 

THEIR PARTNERSHIP IS THE MOST IMPORTANT THING, FOLKS

GLENN FREY WROTE A SONG ABOUT IT

(and I'm done)

[talentforlying]

@nightmarecountry: ‘♬ GIMME. I love seeing you wax lyrical about Johnnyboy. — SONGS I LOVE

blood of angels - brown bird! THE john constantine song for me, actually!! the lyrics, the frenetic pace of the backing track, the clinical delivery that explodes into desperate rebellion on the chorus, the undertone of seething disdain and secret self-recrimination born of exhausted cynicism!! this is the song of someone who's cycled all the way around from deep depression to a motherfucking god complex, and if that isn't john constantine in a nutshell. you have lines like:

i drank the blood of angels from a bottle / just to see if i could call the lightning down / it hasn't struck me yet, and i would wage my soul to bet / that there ain't no one throwing lightning anyhow

which make me think of his tendency to just ride the synchronicity highway and trust it'll put him where he needs to be, and let him do what he needs to do. also, his general 'well if god was gonna kill me he'd have fucking done it already' attitude towards risk-taking and making bets on a bluff. also, he has literally snorted santa claus's bones to hype up his magic, so like, he would actually drink angel blood if he had reason to. then there's:

too many tries at tempting fate to call it over / and you get to thinking fate's got different plans / like maybe, i'm not born to die but to bring darkness to the sky / and pull that goddamn sun down anyway i can

which make me think of the laughing magician arc, where constantine learned that his twin was supposed to have lived in his place and his being born instead cursed the world, and his reaction to this — and to his twin saying that if constantine let him take over his body, the world would be fixed — was 'fuck you and fuck that, i can live with a damned world as long as i'm the one living in it'. constantine is someone who's gone his whole life being told he should have died, shouldn't have existed, shouldn't have been born, should've taken someone else's place. of fucking course he resents it, of course he's bitter about it. but if the universe wanted him dead, it should have tried harder. that's where this comes in:

you could be right, they might come for me at night / in angry mobs with torches bright outside my door / for all my spite, i might never win the fight / but i will rage against the light forever more

he is a survivor against all odds, against death and fate and destiny, and he will continue to survive against all odds. he doesn't have to be liked. he doesn't have to be wanted. his purpose is to keep up the fucking fight, no matter the cost, and that's just what he's going to do. and finally, the part that kind of breaks my heart:

don't try to come 'round here spreading sentiments of cheer / you told your last white lie, everything is not alright / you hope, you pray, you love the light of day / but there's no one up there listening tonight

the way this is sung, it feels like constantine's exhausted-ass friends telling him to fuck all the way off after he's done something he can't fix, but also? constantine expects the worst, but he does also hope for the best. i think there's a part of him that genuinely, genuinely wants things to turn out okay in the end, and it takes a piece out of him every time he can't make it all work out for everybody. he knows magic has a cost, he knows the price is steep. he knows he can't save everybody and that some people get exactly what they went asking for. he knows the world is dark and full of terrors and horrors beyond human imagining but within human hands to reach and craft. but he still hopes. he still finds joy and love in the little things in life. and it still hurts when it doesn't last.

+ song for the corinthian: okay evil eye - franz ferdinand not only gives me general corinthian vibes, but also fucks heavy specifically for our dark mirror relationship w/ corinth and constantine, like:

well, i have the evil eye / well, i, i, i see your soul / you wear it on your face / it's warning what you do

also i mean. you do wear eyes on your face, so if he wants your soul, all he's gotta do is take it off ya. also, "don't believe in god, but believe in that shit / (not me!) not me! i'd like to bring them down" is giving corinth vs dream to me? very rebellious kid talking shit behind a parent's back in a way. all bravado as long as they're out of sight, the kind of rebellion born of missing something in that relationship.

[recklessabandon2019]

LYRICS:

Body rotting into yesterday And nothing stopping me from dropping or from not decaying But all I've gotten means a lot, and I cannot explain That I wouldn't swap a thing Fuck it, I'mma die anyway And get forgotten Body rotting into yesterday And nothing stopping me from dropping or from not decaying So I'mma pop and I'mma chop and I'mma rot away 'Til all I got is pain

I wish I had more than I needed I been lacking, broke and bored and sore and sick and defeated I ain't slacking, life a chore and I been born to complete it So don't go asking when I'm pouring up or smoking some tree, and And I fucking mean it

I ain't smoke week in a week I mean weed in a week Sorry, when I'm geeked I just tweak, I can't speak My team want basketball, like fuck that Buy drinks like alcohol and suck wax And packs of pods up my lungs 'Cause fuck it, I'm young And I'll die anyway Can't take a few hits, I'm a heavyweight Just pray God waiting at Heaven's gates

'Cause I don't want this Not anymore Shit was hella fun, now it's not and I'm sore And I'm not just bored 'Cause a lot done changed, And I dropped that sword So it's not my fight And I closed that door Of that I'm for sure Y'all can keep the weekend war I'll be steady tweaking chords Y'all already peaked for sure

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary205

4/7-8/2024

sunday -monday

gotta work early tomorrow..

but it's not too bad. today i read something interesting about political ecology and that is in truth a way of managing people/ideas/meaning so as to keep capital/its methods, a redirection of capital, rather than a negation of it. by this nature, or i suppose, by approaching nature as a system, at least bringing tiqqun in here, the cybernetic models of nature as systems, a multiplicity of systems to either manage and enable, to live 'with' and use, rather than to exploit, to maintain a smooth process of accumulation over what could end. the essay at a point brings up that capital can no longer be understood as the dominion of death over life, but a living domination of life. i am quite taken by this, not as a positive but it i suppose makes us point our gaze towards ends, time, slow down and what could end accumulation. in many ways the essay also brought to mind foucault, when it at points brings up the constant evaluation of all, evaluation of us, us in nature, our cooperation/failure, evaluation of technique and so on, this is very much an extension of the disciplinary.

here it is:

i am quite taken with it overall, i like that there is some attack on current trends within the academy that one may notice, and that these perspective are carried out and enabled by institutions in talks and things, reproduced, evaluated as useful and shown around, guiding ideas/methods. methods is maybe the best word here, the author at a point notes that these experts who guide us now appear first in laboratories, or this is where they discover the possibilities.

anyway, i am tired which is why this is so short.

there is an article preceding this one mentioned in the notes section that i want to read tomorrow, as well as some other things.

anyway, today feels sort of big for the music thing, coming down to the wire more, did another listen thru while waiting for my skin to cool so i could wax my face (hair was too short, got nothing, just tweezed a lot instead (lolllll (like usual (like everyday usual)))), and the record's issues aren't very bad, mostly just on a sound basis what has to change is more present snares i'm noticing, and a bit of a shoring up of the sound, standardizing certain things a touch, you know. so yeah, as far as big changes go, or big efforts that are gonna have to be made, about 4 songs need decently sized vocal parts added, one needs to be redone, one needs parts other than choruses written and recorded, one needs half the song recorded and verses written (choruses done), and one short song needs the back half written. there's 2 songs here that need little pieces added and i have the new lyrics for those parts, and there's one that needs me to do one thing. that is where the vocal stuff is at, pretty good, imo.

currently trying to get thru the first page of master related notes, as in crossing stuff off my checklist, tonight i'll be 8 songs in, tomorrow should be as easy, and then i listen again and check where things are/how they sound.

everything is sounding better now w/ these notes in place. siccck!!

so first 8 songs of 33 looking much better, unfortunately in that 8, 3 still need vocal work, so they're kinda distant from being done, but that is okay... i'll get there.

funny thing about yesterday, going into work dressed how i normally do, they didn't really recognize me immediately.

anyway i am sleepy now, and i have to be at work by 11:15, so

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[losingmymindtonight]

Ok, but speaking of The West Wing, that scene when Pres. Bartlett is being rolled into emergency surgery on a freaking gurney after being SHOT and is just like "If I don't speak to my daughter in the next minute I'm gonna start throwing punches" cause Zoey was throwing up... Have you ever seen something more Irondad than that?

I’ve been wanting to write this since I saw that episode and since one of my favorite authors brought it up, I must fulfill. And THEN I hear that it was your birthday, so now it’s MANDATORY that I offer you writing as a ceremonial gift. It’s not nearly as much as you deserve, but I hope it’s something!

WARNINGS: gun violence, hospitals, surgeries, mentions of vomit, mentions of shock

–

Tony had been in a lot of firefights in his time, but he never got used to them.

He didn’t really know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. If it showed that he’d retained some of his humanity, or if it proved that he had always been ill-suited to the superhero job.

Then again, when the popping of gunfire went off and the world exploded into shattered glass and screaming, none of that philosophical pondering really mattered anymore.

Someone shoved him to the ground within a second of the first shot. The breath whooshed out of his lungs, sidewalk digging into his palms. There was shouting in his ears, the scrabble of shoes right next to his face, and then he was being hauled up. Shielded. Pushed up, down, forward. His knees his concrete, grass, asphalt. He scrabbled to call the suit, but then he remembered that he didn’t have it. He didn’t have it.

Screw Ross and his laws. Screw the Accords. Just… Just screw it all.

More gunfire. To his left, someone screamed.

A car door swung open right in front of his face, and someone shoved him inside.

Tires squealed. The car jerked as it hit a curb.

He gasped in air. Someone was talking to his right. The same someone that had pushed him down, had been shouting.

In the adrenaline drop of after, he realized that it was Rhodey. Because of course it was Rhodey. Of course.

The Colonel (which was a title that would never sit right in Tony’s gut, because the man would always just be his best friend, would always be the nerdy 18 year old who scooped him up at MIT and never let him go) was sitting beside him in the backseat, hand resting heavy on his shoulder. He looked easy and calm, especially for a man who had just been shot at. That’s probably what the military did for you, he supposed. Maybe he should’ve enlisted after all, just like Howard had wanted.

Then again, Tony had always been terrible at taking orders.

“Easy, Tony. You’re alright.”

He shook his head, tried to get a grip back on reality. His ears were still ringing, he could still hear the popping of bullets in his skull. “What-What the he-”

“Tony,” Rhodey said, firm and commanding, “breathe.”

“I am breathing,” he snapped. 

He felt like he’d lost something. Like he needed to-

He snapped back into himself like whiplash. It hurt, to hit reality at full speed, but the pain was drowned out by the terror.

Peter.

He scrabbled for Rhodey’s sleeve, fingernails tearing into his suit jacket. “Peter, Peter, Rhodey-”

He didn’t have to say anything else. Rhodey lunged forward, grabbed a walkie-talkie out of the front of the car, reaching past a driver that Tony didn’t even know the name of to do it, and started talking into it so fast that Tony’s shock-addled brain could barely keep up.

“This is Colonel Rhodes. I have Tony in the car. Is Peter secure? Does anyone have Peter Parker?”

Crackle of static. Then,

“Affirmative. I have Parker.”

Tony could’ve fainted with relief. His head swum, vision blurring at little at the edges. His chest ached, too. Probably from hitting the pavement so hard. Or, heck, maybe it was just from worry. Peter was bound to be the death of him someday.

He jerked the walkie-talkie out of Rhodey’s hands. “Get him on the line. I want to talk to him.”

“Sorry, Sir,” the voice said, and Tony didn’t recognize it, which made his heart skip, because the last time he’d seen Peter, the kid had been with Happy, going ahead to the car while Tony stopped to shake hands with the crowds gathered outside the gala. “He can’t talk right now.”

The color leeched out of the world. If Peter had been hit… if… if Peter had been hit…

Rhodey leaned forward, not pulling the walkie-talkie out of Tony’s iron-tight grasp, but slipping his hand over Tony’s so he could use it. “Is he hit?”

“No, Sir, he’s not hit.”

The reassurance only settled some of Tony’s fear. “Then why can’t he talk?”

“He’s… He’s vomiting in the car, Sir.”

“What the he-”

Rhodey gripped his shoulder again, shaking him a little to catch his attention. “Easy, Tony, this happens sometimes.”

What an absurd thing to say. How could anyone be so calm about his child vomiting in a car. There was nothing normal about his child vomiting in a car. 

Had he mentioned that his child was vomiting in a car?

He grit his teeth until his jaw ached. “What do you mean this happens sometimes?”

“I mean that it happens,” Rhodey snapped. “He might’ve gotten an elbow in the stomach, but it’s probably just shock.”

Just shock. Shock. They’d just been shot at, almost certainly because of Tony, and now his kid was in shock.

He regretted everything. He didn’t even know what everything encompassed, but he knew that he regretted it all the same.

“Is Happy with him?”

There was more static. The empty crackling was driving Tony mad.

“Hogan put him in the car.”

His stomach flipped. “But he’s not with him?”

“No, Sir. But he’s got two security guards with him, Sir, as well as me.”

Rhodey’s brow furrowed. “Why isn’t Happy in the car?”

“Hogan put the kid in the car then stayed behind for the ID agent. He thinks he saw something, something that might be-”

They hit a pothole. Pain, sharp and hot, lanced up his side. He gasped, reaching up to grab the spot with a wince. He kept his eyes trained desperately on the walkie-talkie, as if he could stare through the plastic and see Peter on the other side.

He heard Rhodey take a sharp breath, and then his chin was being gripped, gaze jerked away from the only line he had to Peter, to his kid-

“Tony?” Rhodey’s eyes searched his face. There was something wet on his lips. “Tony, did you get hit?”

He blinked at him. What? Did he get hit? Peter was vomiting in the backseat of a car, doors and steel and roads away from him, and Rhodey was asking stupid questions like did you get hit?

Hands dragged up his side, came away wet, and suddenly, Rhodey didn’t look very calm anymore.

“Turn around!” He shouted to the driver. “We’ve got a GSW.” Rhodey was grabbing his face again, forcing their eyes together. “Tony, breathe. Don’t pass out.”

He glared. “I’m not gonna pass out.”

The car jerked in a 180, tires squealing against the damp pavement. Rhodey steadied him as they tilted.

“Where’s Peter going?” He gasped, vision still swimming from the sudden change of inertia. “Where are they taking Peter?”

“To the Tower.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“To the hospital.”

“No, no. Take Peter… he needs to get looked at, too. And I wanna see him.”

I have to see him.

For a second, it looked like Rhodey was going to argue. Then, he just nodded, acquiescent, and used the hand not pressed against Tony’s abdomen to grab the walkie-talkie again.

“Bring Peter to the hospital. We’re taking Tony there now.”

Static. Then, the same voice as before.

“Affirmative. The kid wants to know why.”

Tony jerked a hand up, wrapped bloody fingers around Rhodey’s wrist. “Rhodey, don’t tell him.”

“He’ll find out when he gets to the hospital anyway, Tony,” he hissed, then spoke his next words into the walkie-talkie. “It’s a minor gunshot wound. Tell the kid that he’s conscious, talking, and still being a pain in my ass.”

He grinned.

Yeah, that’d make the kid feel better.

–

There was a stretcher and a medical team waiting for him as soon as they arrived.

Apparently, being a high-profile superhero billionaire won you some pretty good emergency medical care. Who knew.

It did not, however, win you any breaks in the pain department. Moving him onto the gurney still absolutely sucked. He’d been shot before, which probably wasn’t something a lot of people in the world could say, but he always seemed to forget just how much it hurt.

Rhodey was talking rapidly to one of the nurses as they wheeled him into the hospital and down a hallway.

“He’s got a GSW in his abdomen. Entry and exit wounds.”

The nurse nodded. “BP is 134 over 78. Pulse is 108. What’s his pulse ox?”

“98,” someone else shouted, just out of Tony’s view.

A man in a white coat was jogging beside the gurney. He was the first person to actually address him, smiling thinly. “Mister Stark, I’m Doctor Keller. I’m the trauma surgeon on duty. Considering the circumstances, everything is looking pretty steady. The exit wound is a good sign when it comes to any possible internal damage and we’re really liking your vitals.”

He felt like snarling. None of this was what he wanted. He didn’t care about the hole in his stomach. He cared that somewhere, his kid was vomiting all alone in the back of a car. 

“I swear to all that is holy,” he spat, “if I don’t speak to my kid in the next five minutes, I’m gonna attack someone.”

“He’s on his way, Tony,” Rhodey reassured.

“He’d better be.”

They rolled him into a trauma room, stopping in the middle and not wasting another second before swarming him. He heard the click of the stretcher’s breaks, the chatter of voices saying bits and pieces of things he understood and things he didn’t. Pairs and pairs and pairs of unfamiliar hands were touching him, poking and prodding and attaching monitors. There was a sting in the crook of his elbow as one of the nurses started an IV.

“Okay, Sir,” Doctor Keller said, patting his shoulder, “we’re just gonna get you stabilized. Do you have any medical conditions?”

“Well,” he drawled, “I’ve been shot. Does that count?”

Rhodey snorted.

He reached out and grabbed a nurse’s wrist as she reached for his IV, then re-found Doctor Keller’s face. “I want you to wait until I’ve seen my kid before you give me the anesthesia. Do you understand?”

Thankfully, the surgeon seemed to understand who was in charge in this situation, and it certainly wasn’t him or his staff.

“Of course.”

He let of the rest of the minutes blur by, nodding along with whatever Doctor Keller and his nurses said and trusting Rhodey to actually be paying attention.

Then the doors swung open, and a receptionist pushed Peter through.

Despite the pain still burning up his side, he could breathe again.

The kid was pale, shaking. His wide eyes blew even wider when he took in the scene in front of him: nurses and blood and all. 

“Tony?”

“I’m okay,” he called gently, pain getting shoved in the backseat, everything getting shoved in the backseat in favor of this kid, his kid.

“Tony?!” Peter repeated, more frantic this time despite Tony’s attempt to comfort him, and he rushed forward, slipping past the nurses and Rhodey and bumping into the gurney’s guard rail in his haste to get close.

“They didn’t hit anything,” he soothed, reaching up to brush some of Peter’s hair out of his face. “They’re just gonna look around and make sure.”

Peter’s eyes darted down to the bloodstain on his shirt and up to his face. “Are you… Are you in a lot of pain?”

“No. No, of course not.”

“Are you lying?”

“Of course he is,” Rhodey snarked, stepping up to grip Peter’s arm. “He wants you to tell all your friends how brave he was.”

“Duh. Plus, I want all these guys,” he gestured to the nurses, “to feed the reporters a story of how I was up-beat and joking around.”

“You are brave,” Peter said, looking close to tears.

“Peter, I’m fine,” he murmured, heart aching at how distressed the kid seemed. “I’m just so happy to see you, buddy.”

A nurse tentatively tapped his arm. “Sir? We really need to begin.”

“Right, right.” He glanced up at Rhodey. “Make him,” he jerked his chin towards Peter, “get checked out. Don’t let him talk you out of it.”

Peter was shaking his head, frantic. “No, no. I wanna stay.”

He smiled to cover up just how much the plea pierced him. “Won’t be able to fall asleep if you’re here, bud. You’re just too exciting to have around. Go on with Rhodey. I’ll see you when I wake up.”

“But-”

“Nuh-uh. No ifs, ands, or buts. I’m the adult here. Plus,” he reached out and poked Peter’s side, “I have a hole in my stomach, so I think I get the veto card right about now.”

“That’s not funny,” the kid whispered, weakly letting Rhodey pull him back, away from Tony, towards the doors.

“I thought it was pretty funny.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Well, I’ll work on my jokes.” He waved as Peter paused in the doorway. “See you later, squirt. Be good for Rhodey.”

“Don’t die,” Peter called back, voice hitching dangerously.

He nearly laughed at the absurdity of the request. “It’ll take a lot more than this to kill me, kid. Trust me on that.”

The doors slid shut, obscuring the kid’s face from view. And with Peter gone, with Peter safe, there was nothing left to cling to.

He gave the nearest nurse and thumbs up and let the drugs wash him down.

–

When he surfaced again, Pepper was there.

She smiled when she sensed his eyes on her, reaching forward to intertwine their fingers. “Hey, honey.”

He swallowed past the stinging in his throat. “Peter?”

“May’s got him in the waiting room,” she murmured, as if she’d been expecting the question. “They wouldn’t let him in until you were awake.”

He nodded, trying to kick his brain into gear despite the pain meds slogging through his system. “Is everyone okay?”

“There weren’t any fatalities. A few injuries, but nothing serious. Happy hit his head, but it’s only a minor concussion. They treated Peter for shock while you were in surgery, but he’s just fine now.”

The information absorbed slowly, but Pepper waited patiently. Always waiting, always patient.

“Did they catch them?”

“The gunmen?” It wasn’t an actual question, not really, but he nodded anyway as Pepper continued. “Yes. One’s dead, but the other’s been taken in for questioning.”

“Did they say why they did it?”

Something dark fell over Pepper’s face. “Yes.”

“And?”

She brushed a hand through his hair, biting worriedly at her lip. “You have to promise to stay calm.”

Foreboding was brewing in his stomach. Pepper never danced around an issue like this. She was always straightforward, bit between her teeth. 

“Please just tell me,” he whispered.

“You weren’t the target.”

He blinked, trying to process what the hell that meant.

“Then who was?”

“It was… It was Peter, sweetheart. They were trying to get Peter.”

Everything froze. There wasn’t enough oxygen in the room, wasn’t enough gravity to stop them all from peeling away from the ground. That… That couldn’t be. Peter wasn’t a target, wasn’t something that was meant to be viewed through a pair of crosshairs. Peter was a child.

“Why would they-”

Pepper was already talking, voice low. “Tony, these people are crazy-”

“But they tried to… they tried to k-”

“Yes, Tony, but we caught them, so they aren’t going to be able to try it again-”

“That’s not enough,” he hissed, bringing a hand up to cradle his tender side. “That’s… That’s not enough.”

“Oh, honey…”

“I want to see him.” He gripped the thin hospital sheets in his fist. “Please, Pep. I need to see him.”

“Alright,” she said softly, pushing to her feet, “I’ll go get him, but then you need to rest.”

“Wait. Pepper,” he called, stalling her in the doorway. “Does he know?”

Does he know who those bullets were meant for? Does he know that he wasn’t meant to make it into that car alive?

“No,” she said, voice grave.

“Let’s… Let’s keep it that way, yeah?”

She jerked her head in response. “I’m on it.”

–

It looked like Peter’s whole body went dizzy with relief when Pepper pushed him into the room. It seemed to be contagious, too, because the sight of the kid’s eyes, wide and hopeful, made his chest go fuzzy.

“See?” He grinned, gesturing at himself with his IV free arm. “Even old men can got shot and survive nowadays. Modern medicine is just that good.”

“You’re okay,” Peter breathed, and he sounded so airy and out-of-body that Tony was genuinely worried that he might just faint.

He kept up his smile, beckoning gently, trying to get the kid close enough that he could catch him if he did. “Sure am.”

“You’re okay.”

There was something manic filling up Peter’s gaze. Something that made Tony even more desperate to comfort, to protect. “Uh-huh,” he said, and the softness in his voice surprised even himself. “Everything’s alright now, buddy.”

The kid pressed himself up against the hospital bed’s barrier. “That was, uh, that was… scary.”

Peter sounded so small, and Tony was suddenly assaulted by the image of what the kid must’ve looked like while he was in surgery: frightened, alone, in shock.

He hadn’t forgotten how the kid’s uncle had died. And from the expression on Peter’s face, neither had he.

“Are you okay?” He asked, and he didn’t know entirely what he was looking for in an answer. Of course Peter wasn’t okay. At least, he wasn’t okay like that. Maybe he was asking for a different kind of okay. A superficial kind.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

He smirked a little, reaching out to lightly poke Peter’s stomach. “No more puking?”

A blush flushed through the kid’s face, and the embarrassment was a nice change from the fear. “Shut up. At least I didn’t get myself shot.”

The words hit a little hard, considering the conversation he and Pepper had just had, but he forced himself to hide it. “To be fair, that wasn’t actually in my plan.”

“But it still happened,” Peter whispered.

“Wow,” he said, cracking a smile, trying desperately to coax the dejected look off of the kid’s face, “it’s almost like you’re starting to understand how I feel every time you go out on patrol and come home with a stab wound in your gut.”

“But that happens when I’m Spider-Man,” Peter said, voice tight and stricken.

And Tony understood. He understood the hidden meaning in the words.

“It’s not supposed to happen when we’re outside of the suits,” he murmured, finishing the kid’s unspoken thought with a gentle voice.

“Yeah.” The kid gave a jerky nod, as if solidifying something in his head. “Yeah, it’s not.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. There was… There was nothing to say. Peter was right. Why should any kid ever have to reconcile himself with the fact that people were going to shoot at them?

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he whispered, because that was all he had. It was the only truth left that wouldn’t hurt.

The corner of Peter’s mouth quirked up, and it was the first sign of a positive emotion that the kid had given him since entering the room. “Yeah, well, it was obviously your fault.”

He smiled. “Obviously.”

They’d figure it out, he supposed. His wound would heal, he’d quietly exert whatever authority he could to destroy whatever organization had targeted Peter in the first place, and the terror still lingering in the kid’s eyes would fade and flicker and die. They’d gone through worse things and survived. Peter certainly had, as much as that fact pained him.

They’d figure it out, because they didn’t have any other choice. Because they had to.

And, of course, because they always did.

[pharawee]

shedding every speck of doubt that we could fly again

[obaewankenope]

"WELCOME TO HELL."

A loud, booming voice bellows across the flaming planes of despair and misery that make up, well, Hell. Maybe if I'd been born a medieval peasant or, I don't know, suitably Christian, I'd probably have been more concerned with the literal reality of Hell but, honestly, I'm a millennial. I focus on weird shit to the exclusion of all else because hey, that's more sane than watching the news and seeing the 21st century being the end-of-humanity century via war, climate change, and ecological destruction the likes of which humanity has never before known! Cheery things to focus on, not.

Anyway; loud, booming voice bellowing a greeting to the newly dead and Judged™ (I guess) me.

"Who got the job to welcome new souls to Hell and didn't think to be original with it?" I asked out loud because sometimes internal thoughts become external sentences that my brain and I do not agree on and thus happen without my informed consent.

ADHD is... Something and even dead, I've still got it apparently. Kind of feels like a problem for everyone else really. I'm used to my brand of chaos. Double RIP to the souls that aren't.

"Or did they get the job like millenia ago and got real bored trying to be original every time a soul showed up? Or is the voice automated? It's probably automated. Everything is nowadays." I rolled my eyes. "Good luck finding an actual human to talk to before the automated voice lists twelve million options and gives you way more advice and 'warnings' than you need to hear with anxiety and a hyperactive mind."

I rant, I admit that. I've already ranted. Rambled. Digressed along a seventeen year path. Waxed lyrical about Parisian sewers, so to speak. It's just what I do. ADHD brain, as we say.

Now, I don't think I did anything wrong, personally, but apparently ranting when you get dropped off to Hell and let your inner thoughts become a slew of outer words is... Grounds for direct intervention.

No, I don't know why, and no, I'm also not going to ask why. I'm banned from having contact with The Devil™ for eternity. There's an actual court document stating it. Yeah, the afterlife has a court system, I know.

Anyway, direct intervention.

"CEASE YOUR PRATTLE!"

Big, booming voice on The Devil™. A mix between very loud choral music and a heavy metal rock band concert that's figured out how to make their entire set louder than human ears can safely hear. And they're pretty close to that limit normally.

"Uh, okay," I slowly said in response to the very loud demand from a literal Fallen Angel because, well, you kind of would, wouldn't you. Except I'm not normal. Like I said, I'm a millennial and we've never been known to stay quiet when we probably should.

I blame the internet.

"But seriously, it's a valid question," I continued after a moment where The Devil™ probably thought I was cowed or terrified or something. Jokes on them, I have no self-preservation instincts to speak of and have literally not reacted to almost being ran over before.

Which... Might be how I died, actually. Hmm. Something to think about!

"Just, this is meant to be the place for damned souls and all that jazz, you'd expect the initial experience to really set up the whole thing to be more... Well, more impressive than a loud voice shouting 'Welcome to Hell'," I kept going because, again, I have the self-preservation instincts of a mantaree.

I may have done a little dramatic voice change for the 'welcome to hell' bit of my sentence but that's not really important to this story .The Devil™ wasn't impressed by it though.

"YOU ARE TRAPPED IN HELL, CAST OUT AND JUDGED BY GOD—" a lot of vitriol on that word there "—AND WILL FOREVER BE DENIED PARADISE AND YOUR FOCUS IS NOT ON YOUR SUFFERING BUT ON THE GREETING YOU RECEIVE WHEN YOU ENTER THIS PLACE?"

Okay, so, I don't think The Devil™ can sound confused the way we humans do, honestly I don't, but at the moment The Devil™ definitely sounded pretty confused to me.

"Well, yeah," I replied. I'm still confused about how The Devil™ didn't seem to understand my perspective here but, well, I can rant like the best of them and I'm very good at it when I need to explain something. "It's the principle of the matter really. You've got the whole damned-ness going on; the fire and the brimstone and the vibes are very despair-y. That's all great! Top marks there. But," I pause to make that sound where you pull air in through your teeth to sort of hiss but not hiss. You know what I mean.

"The voice isn't intimidating, it doesn't really give you anything when you show up confused or whatever. It's just loud and not even demonic or anything. Honestly, it sounds like how a greetings sign to some random town feels. Kind of just... There. It's a bit underwhelming." I paused. "A lot underwhelming."

Maybe it was the way I talked or how fast I am when I speak aloud but The Devil™ seemed more bothered by my critique than by me actually not being scared of them. Which, well, I figure us millennials can't be the only ones who focus on weird shit when there's more 'reasonable' stuff to focus on at times. Kind of figures The Devil™ would do the same. Though, in The Devil's™ defense, I guess their entire getup inspires fear and terror so they just take it as their due, so to speak.

"YOU DARE INSULT MY DOMAIN!!"

Where The Devil™ got that from, I don't know but I was not there for it. At all.

"I AM THE RULER AND ABSOLUTE OF THIS DOMAIN AND I SHALL-"

"Woah, wait a minute, I'm not insulting your domain! I'm giving a critique that you asked for tacitly by asking me so don't forget about that!"

I cut The Devil™ off mid-sentence. I literally cut The Devil™ off because, honestly, listen, I've survived a lot of shit online in my life. I have had enough of being accused of insulting something or someone when I've been giving an actual critique or criticism that was constructive. If I didn't take it off BootLickerTrumpLover99 then I sure as hell wasn't going to take it off The Devil™.

Even if The Devil™ could reduce me to metaphysical mulch.

"Like, it feels superfluous to have that voice when, I don't know, a sign would work just as well. And even if you wanted to keep the voice greeting, which, yeah works for anyone with a visual impairment, it's not creepy or demon-y or even scary sounding. It's just generic." I looked up at The Devil™ then and maybe they realised I wasn't being an ass or something. Like, honestly I wasn't. I actually really was kind of invested in this now.

Mainly because they sort of offended me by thinking I was insulting their greeting voice without at least having some constructive criticism for them.

"AND WHAT WOULD YOU SUGGEST?" The Devil™, the actual fucking Devil, asked me and they didn't even sound pissed.

I literally got asked my opinion by The OG Fallen Angel. This is probably why I ended up in Hell. For this reason alone. Or because I may have caused some uh… Questionable things to occur in my lifetime.

I hummed in thought, tapping my chin because I thought it'd look cool. It probably didn't. "Well, I guess you could change the pitch of the voice if you want to keep that particular greeting so it's less corporate American mall and more... The batteries have run down but the speakers are still working enough to transmit so enjoy the distortion and the accompanying nightmares it'll give you. That would work better," I said and the Devil™ actually nodded at me.

Nodded!

"You could change it to something more childish sounding complete with giggle or laughter or something equally disconcerting because of the dissonance of a child's voice announcing that you're in Hell; that'd get some people good, I think," I continued, really in the swing of it now because this, this is my jam really.

Belting out ideas whether they be for cursed fics, crack pairs or the kind of voice you could use to welcome people to Hell, it doesn't matter the context, I am very good at thinking things.

"I guess a really distorted, demonic sounding—like you hear in movies and stuff all the time because hey, being original is something Hollywood is allergic to I swear—that could work too. I don't know if it'd work for everyone or if they'd not be able to make out what was said." I blinked. "Though, that might scare some people more if it's on a loop and they have to listen to it over and over to figure out it's welcoming them to Hell. Oh, that'd be kind of evil actually." I looked at The Devil™ sort of delighted with myself for that little realisation.

"REPETITION DOES TEND TO TERRIFY MORTALS MORE THAN SINGULAR OCCURENCES, YES." The Devil™ actually agreed with me.

"Yeah, it's because our brains are wired for pattern recognition. When something is just not normal to our perception but we listen or watch it over and over, we notice the discrepancies more and more until they're all we can see and they freak us the fuck out," I explained because, well, this is also my wheelhouse.

I have a lot of jams and wheelhouses, okay.

"YOU HAVE GIVEN ME MUCH TO CONSIDER," The Devil™ said in what was probably the closest to a conversational tone they could manage. It still sounded like it'd obliterate my eardrums if I wasn't a metaphysical representation of my human form and was made of flesh and bone still.

"Oh, you're welcome then," I said because, well, what else are you meant to say to that? "If you ever want to throw some ideas or things to critique my way I'm—"

I got cut off then by a very, very loud sound that was sort of like a thousand echoes all sounding at the same time and also an orchestra and choir at full volume. It was really loud, okay, and I definitely blanked for a second or two on the metaphysical plane of existence because of it.

"RELEASE THE SOUL YOU TOOK BEFORE ITS TIME OR YOU SHALL BE CAST FURTHER FROM WHERE YOU ALREADY FELL!"

I don't know if you've ever seen The Devil™, you probably haven't, but they had that look a toddler does when they've been naughty and got caught at the last second. You know the look? Yeah, you know it. Well, that's the expression The Devil™ had on their huge form that was vaguely humanoid.

Actually, thinking about it, they probably only looked humanoid to me because I perceived them that way. Huh, that's something to think about again at 3am.

Back to that loud voice and what clearly seemed to be a kid caught being naughty.

Most people, most sane people, probably would have stayed silent there but well, we've already established I am not most people.

"Uh, what's happening right now and does it really require violence to resolve?" I asked because, well, you gotta ask that really. "Because I really don't think violence is the answer, unless it is the answer in which case can I please vacate the area before the fighting because I am definitely out-classed here?"

"COME AWAY MORTAL, YOU DO NOT BELONG IN THIS PLACE!" That very loud, clearly not The Devil™ voice said to me and, okay, I'm not stupid but I can be slow on the uptake sometimes.

Besides, no one is stupid. That's ableist as fuck and I'm not here for that.

"Wait, I thought I died? And got judged, or whatever it is that happens to assign souls where they belong or whatever," I said because I'd kind of assumed that. Though, I didn't actually remember any Judgement™ happening.

"YOU WERE STOLEN BEFORE YOU COULD BE JUDGED MORTALS FOR THE FALLEN ANGEL KNEW WELL YOU DID NOT BELONG IN THEIR REALM OF DESPAIR!"

"THEY BELONG HERE MORE THAN THEY DO IN HEAVEN!" The Devil™ argued back with the… Angel, I guess. "ALREADY THEY SPEAK OF THE SUFFERING OF OTHERS WITH GLEE!"

"Hey hey hey, we don't kinkshame okay!" I blurted out and definitely got Looks for that. Fair. "You can enjoy something just fine but if you actively use what you enjoy to hurt others without their consent, then you're an asshole. Having ideas is not the same as acting on those ideas!"

"THE MORTAL SPEAKS TRUE AND YOU KNOW IT FALLEN, LET THEM LEAVE!"

I never knew The Devil™ could look sad but, well, they kind of looked sad at that order. Rebellious but that's expected of the literal first rebel ever to rebel. Sad though…

"Hey, it's not like you can't still ask my opinion on stuff, or for some concrit, you know," I said to The Devil™ trying to literally cheer up The Devil™. Yeah, I actually did that.

"THE FALLEN WILL HAVE NO CONTACT WITH YOU MORTALS FOR THEY DO NOT BELONG IN ANY PLACE THAT HAS THE LIGHT OF THE CREATOR IN IT!"

"Isn't there a Skype or, I don't know, Spiritual MSN or something to at least send a message though?" You'd think there would be something like that in the afterlife.

Apparently not though.

"NO."

I looked at The Devil™ and, honestly, I felt pretty bad. I hadn't been judged yet so maybe I'd end up back in Hell anyway but just up and disappearing, possibly forever, when The Devil™ seemed to actually enjoy someone having some constructive criticism for them… I'll admit, I'm a sucker for that. Blame my Livejournal and Ff.net days for that.

"Well, what if I just don't go then?" I asked, "you said I'm not judged yet so why don't I just judge myself, say I belong in Hell and then we all just go on our way like nothing happened?"

"HELL IS FOR THOSE WHO DESERVE PUNISHMENT, MORTAL!" The Angel reminded me like I didn't know that already.

I might have been a shitty Catholic but I still got raised on that stuff, I know what Hell is for.

And purgatory.

"It's also for a variety of people who didn't really do anything wrong but got the short end of the religious diatribe anyway," I pointed out. The Devil™ looked strangely delighted with me. "Unless Dante was wrong about the structure of Hell in his Comedies."

"HE WAS NOT," The Devil™ helpfully added.

"ENOUGH!" The Angel bellowed. "YOU WILL COME WITH ME MORTAL, NOW!"

Okay, so, bit of advice for you. Never, I repeat, never tell someone with ADHD to do something. If you're lucky, they'll grumble and do it but, usually, you're not lucky. Because most people with ADHD also have this thing where they get really oppositional to commands. It's called Oppositional Defiance Disorder. And, well, guess what I have?

"No."

"NO!"

"NO?"

"No." I repeated. "You don't get to tell me what to do just because you're all big and Angelic and stuff."

Now, I never knew this but The Devil™ is actually capable of the exact same shit-eating-grin you read about in stories and see on TV that is absolutely the grin someone has when chaos is happening and they are here for it.

"YOU CANNOT REFUSE!"

"I just did," I retorted. "And since Free Will is a thing, you can't make me."

Now, apparently a single Angel can't, so I'm right there. And Free Will is also a thing, so another right there. But…

Well, Free Will can be superseded by The Creator if and when they feel like it. And, apparently, death can be overruled too by The Creator when you're being stubborn.

"THEN THE CREATOR SHALL TAKE YOU MORTAL, FOR YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE!"

"Consent is sexy and I am not okay with this!" I exclaimed.

"GOODBYE MORTAL," The Devil™ said to me and in the next moment, I was here.

So yeah, that's how I've ended up alive again, and yeah, I'll take a straw with my drink, thanks.

[olderthannetfic]

Can someone please explain to me what this post is trying to convey? I'm genuinely feeling lost about it... like, I feel like I can almost get some (maybe?) parts but not much else.

I usually try to keep up with fandom meta conversations (that's why I love this blog!) but some people on my dash lose me completely.

--

Wow, that's quite an oblique way to phrase all that.

What it's saying can be paraphrased as more or less:

Nobody wants to hear this, but a lot of fic shows the bigotry in the source material and/or the audience.

People assume that fic must be woke because it's by women. Instead, it's full of femsub, dubcon and rape, aggressors who are described how black men are in racist porn, and obsession with purity. Fandom hasn't stopped being horny for these bad tropes because they're entrenched throughout society.

I think it's missing two big things:

By the time you're writing porn, society has already done a number on you. Even if you are prefect about all political things and work hard to unlearn your internal biases, your libido may be forever stuck in the problematic hellscape you grew up in.

When I say that fic is subversive, I don't mean that the content is. I mean that women asserting their right to a space is.

Plenty of actual fic content is regressive twaddle. That's not the thing that's special about fic at all! Many of the early acafans who waxed lyrical about how slash fandom was feminism or whatever literally just meant that women writing badwrong horny art and not apologizing was a big deal.

But I will grant that I've seen plenty of idiots claiming fic is more woke than other types of iddy writing or calling fandom progressive or feminist or subversive without making it clear why they think it qualifies, and this post is a reasonable critique of those claims.

Their followup post says (actual quote this time):

"Anyway time to show at least one card in my hand– I’ve been comparing meta about trans karkat to all the fic about him being a breeder troll / captive bride / etc and going can it be transphobia if he’s not “canonically” trans? I’m going to say so."

I mean... have you looked at breeding kink writing, anon? A lot of it is exactly as they described: it's all about the Bad Foreigner defiling pure white virgins. Even examples that aren't overtly like that tend to have the same vibes.

I wouldn't personally call this sort of thing transphobic because I'll bet a lot of it is by horny trans people, not cis people stereotyping trans people. But their other posts do make sense if these are the kinds of fics they're thinking of.