#art is not supposed to appeal to your sensibilities.

[carnographix]

The one good thing to come out of me being in guro spaces a bit too young is that all my takes on fiction are incredibly real and based

[violetlunette]

Which Class A girl had the most potential for an arc? I'll say Momo.

She exists for the purposes of fanservice. BUT:

She's a genius.

Has a horrifically powerful quirk.

Is a recommended student.

Comes from a wealthy family who possibly are also heroes. (It's hilarious that we don't know details like this about a supposed main character, lol!)

Experiences the sexist nature of hero society at the forefront.

During Bakugo's match with Uraraka, the audience, Iida, and the heroes all acted like women were inferior to men and you shouldn't beat them up. This attitude is never seen again, but it's good bones for a story.

When we look at what we've got here, there's some great material. Take her internship. She has the power to create anything but living creatures, but she was accepted by a famous heroine because she's very conventionally attractive. Snake Lady basically said "You're smart and your quirk makes you a goddess, but forget about that. You're hot, and I can use you to market products."

Of course MHA can't be bothered to explore how pissed and gutted someone should be in a situation like this. And nothing ever comes of it! That's always the case with Momo, and it's both hilarious and sad. She exists for the purposes of taking losses. She's never allowed to do anything interesting with her quirk. She can create anything and she uses it to make sticks! Snake Lady could have also had good reasons for saying that. From her perspective, this is how you become a successful female hero. You sell sex appeal, and you market products and you make lots of money and get fame and success. So it's not really a black and white situation here. Momo is being exploited here, and the person doing it is teaching her how to game the system. It's a systemic issue.

And as far as being wasted potential? 100% Momo. If she got even 10% of the sauce that Izuku, Todoroki, and Bakugo gets, she'd be incredible.

Like just imagine for a second if she swapped quirks with Bakugo, and Bakugo remained as important in this alternate universe as he is in canon.

We'd see an unholy amount of bullshit from Creation. It would be awe inspiring. I doubt alternate, Explosion wielding Momo would do as much with Explosion as Bakugo does. Knowing this author, maybe she'd have the power to trigger the explosions from any part of her body, and so she's always blowing up her clothes.

As far as the other ones go:

Uraraka was interesting until she got pigeonholed into being the token love interest that Izuku's going to get with in the epilogue. No effort was put into developing their relationship, and she got no further development once it was decided that her character was supposed to mirror Toga's. RIP.

I wouldn't say she was as wasted as Momo because her quirk isn't really the best for the constantly escalating fights that MHA gets into. She'd have been infinitely better off if the author had stuck to his original idea and quirk swapped her with Mount Lady.

"I grow taller and larger and kick and punch people"! Fits the "PLUS ULTRA MORE POWER 100%!" vibe this series goes for. We saw the devastation that Gigantomachia did with his giant quirk. Maybe the author would have let Uraraka do something cool with it.

Tsuyu's the level headed one who wants everyone to follow the rules and be sensible. Which disqualifies her from playing a major role in a show about being reckless and breaking the rules. In theory, there's nothing stopping her frog quirk from being just as powerful as Mirko's rabbit quirk.

She fell off entirely and barely got anything after the USJ. She started off very promising as one of Izuku's friends.

Toru's a one note joke character and the depths of her light manipulation wasn't explored enough to be useful. She's bad at stealth and gets found out easily. She's not good at martial arts. She's not good at anything. And she's another character that we get barely any background for.

There's some bones here that could make for an interesting story, like how someone who is invisible lives, and what effects that would have on her growing up. Especially if she was born invisible. But nothing was done with it. An issue with having a supposed main cast of 20 characters.

Jiro's another of the puddle characters. Looks deep at first, but isn't. I have very little to say about her. She likes music. She finds Kaminari being stupid hilarious. She likes Momo. That's all we get from her.

Mina. She gets the honor of having a designated personality trait of being a bully hunter along with her friend Kirishima and then becomes the author mandated friend of Bakugo, despite him pushing them both away at every opportunity.

I'm thinking that gives her negative points. i can forgive some people not having a personality, but when you're given one and then it doesn't matter in the face of the plot, you're worse off than the puddle characters.

Agree with 96% of this.

This post is pretty long so I'll try to summarize my thoughts below.

Notes: Long post

With Momo it’s obvious; She has an amazing quirk and is very book-smart. She was talented enough to get into UA by recommendation (not that we learned much about that). Where she fails is that she’s naive and doesn’t have a lot of street smarts. (And I believe that, in the beginning, she struggled to think on her feet.) Another arc is that Momo has quite an attractive body. Momo doesn’t take notice, but others do in and out of the universe. As you stated, this could have been used to look at the difference between how male and female superheroes are treated. Momo isn’t ashamed of her body and sees no issue with showing skin. In fact, she sees it as logical. However, this tends to give the wrong idea to others (especially pervs like Mineta). It’s at the point where Momo is judged for her body instead of her quirk and abilities. Hell, her internship was just because she looked cute, not because of her skill. Now, this could have worked if it was explored more. (Though I’m not sure that Hori’s the right one to explore it. Not because he’s a bad writer [or a male] but because his skills seem to lie outside of this stuff.) Momo’s confidence was already low because of how easily she was defeated during the sports festival, but now she discovers that the few heroes that took an interest in her were only after her for her looks. No way that helped with her confidence. At this point, Momo could be struggling with her ego and wondering if she actually has what it takes to be a hero. On top of that, people could be making comments about her costume leading her to feel a bit ashamed of a body she had been so confident in. Adding to this, Momo should have spent more time with Midnight. Not just to give her death more meaning later, but it’s believable that Midnight went through the things Momo did, so she would have been perfect to guide her. (Also, I think they would have had an interesting student/teacher dynamic.) Midnight could have not only helped Momo to regain her confidence and not care what others think but could have taught her to use her looks to her advantage.

Ochako somehow suffered the most and least in development. There is A LOT of emphasis placed on her feeling for Deku, yet we barely see the two together, one on one. It’s only near the end that we see that and by then it’s too late. This is especially important as her feelings for Deku are what make her a rival to Tago, one of the main villains. (That’s bullshit, but we’ll look at it in the far future.) Outside of Deku, we could have seen how being raised poor affected her. As is, her eyes just get wide and she nearly faints at things she thinks are extravagant. That’s it. We could have seen her be jealous, then feel bad as the richest girl in class—Momo--is a sweetheart. We also could have seen her morals tested as she’s desperate to help her parents, but how far is she willing to go to do that? (Of course, she’ll do the right thing, but the temptation is important in stories.)

With Mina, she could have been used to explore the discrimination against Mutants, which was made a big deal very late in the game. It also would have been nice to give her some personality points to separate her from Toru. Plus, she has ACID for powers. You’re telling me more couldn’t have been done with that?

And since I talked about the others, I'll give some quick ones on the remaining two. (Toru I've talked about in the past.) Tsuyu could have brought some interesting points to the table as well. She has a quirk that doesn’t seem like much but could be a lot of fun if used creatively. More than that I would have liked to explore her lawful good nature. I think it is a very interesting debate about heroes. Should you do what’s right and damn the rules, or should you hold yourself accountable to the same laws that you uphold?

Jiro I personality feels satisfied, but we rarely get to see her step up. I think her quirk depends on her support items as she needs to plug into things to amp her heartbeat, and if it’s too loud, the item breaks. It would have been cool to explore that.

[opinion-piecemeal]

Just to preface: this post is not about Vivzie. She is kind of a scummy creator and I’ve recently learned about several controversial things she’s done. No I’m not talking about lewd art, I could not care less about that. She has done some scummy questionable things to real life people that she’s interacted with and I implore you to look into it on your own time. Just wanted to get that out of the way because I won’t be addressing it further but I want it known that I do in fact know some of the things she’s done.

I think most of the discourse on Hazbin Hotel is done, but I didn’t have this tumblr when it came out. So fuck it here’s my opinion now:

I really liked the Hazbin Hotel pilot when it came out, like genuinely. It was a decently made piece of indie animation, and they did a lot with a little amount of time. I even kinda liked Helluva Boss when that show came out, it toned down a lot of the more obnoxious elements of the HH pilot, the designs became less cluttered and the sound effects were toned down, the writing was even decent, it was funny sometimes, and it could tell an emotional story if it wanted. I didn’t care for the musical numbers (not because they were bad, I don’t even remember them it’s been years. I just don’t care for most musicals, if any at all), but I could get through those portions and it was fine. Some decent jokes, and I didn’t hate the characters.

So I was relatively…. Marginally slightly elevated when I heard Hazbin was getting an actual show release. That’s pretty cool, indie animation getting bigger and getting more funding? Hell yeah we love to see that. It’s been a minute since I watched through HH, but I remember my reactions to it and some key points of criticism.

This is gonna be just a compilation of ramblings and rantings because I do have a lot of disparate things to say about the show. Bear with me here.

Just gonna start off with: it’s one of the worst animated shows I have ever seen. I’m being 100% serious. It’s not paced well, none of the elements of the show itself are utilized properly, and every musical number has to be worse than nails on a chalkboard. It’s not funny, and it has NO idea how to structure interesting storylines to tell their stories effectively.

I heard nothing but praise for HH when it first came out from queer people I know. Being a queer myself, I understand why that is. It’s colorful, has a lot of vulgar yet not actually edgy jokes, has some gay characters in it, has some “CrYpTiD” character that everybody loves for some reason, and it’s about demons. This shit screams that it’s supposed to be appeal to YOU 🫵 THE AVERAGE QUEER! I know my vague description here might not be screaming “gay culture” but if you’re a queer in your 20’s in the year of our lord 2024 I think you know what I mean. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying media meant to appeal to you!!! Not even enjoying stuff that’s obvious pandering, I have my own media that is very meaningful to me because it tries to appeal to my sensibilities in an obvious way. But HH is. It’s bad for other reasons, this is just why I think a lot of LGBTQ+ people were hyping it up like it was a gift from… god? Gay Satan? Yeah anyway.

Just gonna rant about some things I remember, bear in mind I haven’t rewatched the show in a minute, but I’ll do my best not to say anything blatantly inaccurate to the general sentiment of the show.

The first episode of the show was an immediate dropping of the ball. It’s trying to act like a re-pilot, and yet if you haven’t watched the pilot there’s details you aren’t ever going to get. It starts with a really boring stylized exposition dump about the setting. I think it’s insanely mishandled because EVERYTHING that’s explained in it you can gather from context clues throughout the show. It genuinely might have been a stronger overall show if the entire exposition intro was entirely removed. It explains the angels doing the yearly culling, something you learn about by the end of this episode after the intro, you learn about Charlie’s parents, something you learn about much later and is introduced better in the original pilot through naturalistic dialogue. We learn about ummmm. That’s it as far as I can remember? I guess the setup for hell happens. Idk it feels like a clunky way to try to introduce new people to the show. Genuinely think a cold open to the moments after the intro would make for a stronger overall episode.

I do not like Adam. I know that’s the point, but I hate that he isn’t even scary. Like they don’t try to make him the least bit threatening, or intelligent, or at all… idk, cool? He’s a lame college frat boy dickhead stereotype, and I don’t even hate that on its face. If it was done in a way where we could see how he’s been leading heaven’s armies, maybe something a little more subtle, something a little tiny bit more interesting. It doesn’t make sense that any of heaven’s forces take him seriously. Like maybe it’s actually a reveal in the court scene that Adam is actually just the worst, instead of just “no actually he sucks the whole fucking show”. Not that he has to be a good guy, obviously, I just wish he was done with ANY amount of restraint to make him interesting. But he’s just a frat boy toxic masculinity stereotype that says very little about that stereotype itself besides “lol isn’t heaven hypocritical???��� Like yeah. We knew that in the first episode when Adam did each of the 7 deadly sins in his literal first interaction. It’s so heavy handed.

Tbh I do wanna say that there are elements I like from the show, it just sucks because there’s always something with how they’re executed that just infuriates me. Like I enjoy the idea of portraying Angeldust in the way he’s portrayed, and exploring his trauma and awful situation, and overall they handled it decently. I don’t like the song, and I think the song has some questionable decisions with how it comes across, but overall it’s pretty clear that were meant to be sympathizing with Angel, even if it’s in poor taste to do a pop song over horrific abuse, which it absolutely is. It does fit his character overall, it’s how he copes. He takes control of his sexuality in order to hold onto some facet of control over his life, even if that means distancing himself from reality and constantly putting himself in dangerous situations. But like I said, something has to ruin any good thing within the show. It was extremely poor taste to put Poison and Loser, Baby right next to each other. I understand they wanted to add levity after the darkness of the previous section, but it’s poorly done to have The Arbiter (I forgot both his character’s name and his actor’s name and this is way funnier) go “oh I understand your plight! I’m a gambling addict!” Like no. Those aren’t comparable. I understand the point of it, it’s just horribly done because the team of writers who worked on the show were so chock full of ideas and they couldn’t reign it in to focus on other elements and space out these character arcs.

Angeldust in general suffers from wasted potential. You can see the potential of his character in the obvious arc they were trying for, that sinners can not only be redeemed but that anyone no matter how “far gone” they may believe themselves to be can come back from a horrific situation, or even can take some control. They can choose to do better, and can choose not to let their hardships define them and instead influence them in a healthy way. You can see the pieces of the arc they wanted, but because there’s all of 2 or 3 scenes dedicated to it in total it doesn’t come across like an earned change in Angel’s character. He just. Is suddenly a good person now. All of his progress started in one episode, was never expanded upon, and otherwise happened off-screen and was only really addressed towards the very end.

They completely tossed Sir Pentious’ potential out the window. He just. Comes around to the gang and is a good guy after the first episode he’s introduced. Doesn’t even TRY to space it out in any way. It’s just like. Yup. Sure is a good guy now. Found family!!! Yippee!!! It just doesn’t feel earned. It feels like there was no buildup or actual work into changing. He’s just. Basically good now just because. His egg boys are my favorite though, unironically love those little guys. Besides that though, there’s clearly some small sliver of growth shining through with him. He goes from a timid demon, unwilling to just be openly vulnerable and instead coming across as pathetic, to a confident and slightly more assertive demon who can take charge and be honest with himself about what he cares about. And then he gets disintegrated the moment after this for a cheap laugh. And then he… goes to heaven??? Idk how that works and why other demons aren’t already in heaven then???

Lucifer. Hated how he was done. Like okay, I like him as a character, but the actual function he served in the plot was to resolve Charlie’s daddy issues in half an episode and then disappear for most of the rest of the show so he could come back in at the end and handily stomp Adam without even trying. Thereby completely removing the win from Charlie and her friends. Like. They really could have had something with the ending if he wasn’t in the show at all so Charlie would have to win this battle with Adam by the skin of her teeth with the help of all the friends at the hotel to, at the very least, try and tie together these people into a cohesive unit.

The dragons appearing for half a second and then immediately getting killed. Like why even bother including them?!?!

Oh my god. They didn’t even focus on the redemption aspect. Literally the entire premise of the hotel and they cast aside that entire plot idea so they can focus on the slaughter instead of. Um. Actually interesting funny episodes about demons trying to redeem themselves??? Like I think we should be seeing the hotel get more populated throughout the season with different demons who DO want to redeem themselves and give up some of their vices to get into heaven. But nah, let’s have 8 episodes of meandering plot with no consistency in terms of pacing or time in between episodes. Let’s just completely throw out that whole entire original idea, we just have too many good ideas guys we need to include everything!!!! Like idk maybe I’m not articulating this part well but it’s such a wasted opportunity. They could have had this first season be an episodic relatively formulaic series of episodes where Charlie is trying to prove to herself and to the rest of the demons of hell that she can and WILL help these souls be redeemed one demon at a time. So we meet a new character every episode and get a rundown of why they’re in hell and then we get Charlie trying to determine how to properly address the core issue causing their sin in the first place, and then that character kind of gets relegated to the background. We can actually see the progress of the hotel in a very consistent easy to follow way, and instead of focusing on this half baked plot line about Heaven coming down to purge the numbers in Hell (which could help to set the stage for the stakes still but be relegated to the background). We would instead be focusing on the actual premise of redeeming the demons and proving to heaven that they can be saved. And we could still have this plot line of the angels coming down to kill demons once a year, and Charlie trying to stop the next one from happening. Maybe Adam gives her a number of demons she needs to redeem by the time the next purge would be, and then even if she reaches it he goes “haha no we’re gonna fucking come kill you anyway” which would let them get into it in the next season and explore the hypocrisy of heaven still in a more cohesive and earned way. Like yeah, Charlie ACTUALLY did her best and she ACTUALLY managed to show that demons, on a base level, are capable of change if they see the benefit of changing. But nah. They did all of it in the worst most uncontrolled way possible with no restraint.

I did not care for the way the plot was paced out. In fact, I would say the worst part about the show was the pacing. Even people who liked the show thought it was poorly paced, and it is. They did eight episodes. EIGHT. Each one 20 minutes, and Vivziepop couldn’t help herself but to try to cram in each and every single idea she possibly had into the season. A season where they KNEW they had another season lined up. They had 10 writers. More writers than fucking episodes for God’s sake, and they decided not to attempt to pace it out using the knowledge that they had another season to work with. Nah they just decided not to let any of their scenes breath, let’s cram in constant cuts, constant dialogue, constant jokes. Oh and we NEED to have 2 songs per episode. Episodes that were woefully underwritten to begin with. They could have only done just ONE musical number per episode and at the very least this would have given them more room to breath with the rest of it. But nah. Gotta cram in as many underwritten musical numbers as physically possible and further destroy the pacing.

I hated every musical number. They aren’t interesting fun songs to me, they aren’t lyrically good or subtle or funny, and almost every singer is pitch corrected for no reason. I’m not gonna talk about any of the numbers individually, as it would get redundant. They would have appealed to me at 12 in terms of their comedic value.

I could genuinely keep going here, I have a ludicrous amount of thoughts about this show. It’s incredibly disappointing for me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad it was made, and I’m glad the audience that loved it DID love it so so much, I am appreciative of the fact that it was originally an indie project that could have had an even worse go of things. But they did not do the original pilot justice and it sucks to see. HH could have been one of my favorite shows, or at least one I appreciate greatly for what it managed to do, but as it is it’s a half baked overstuffed pastry of pure ambition and hubris, with none of the charisma to pull that off. From a story writing perspective, it’s very poorly executed and does not properly explore any of the concepts it touches on.

I will never escape Hazbin Hotel. It infects every single corner of the internet that I interact with. Memes from the least funny people you know with random pictures of these characters, characters which, themselves, also aren’t funny keep cropping up in group chats and discord servers, and every time I hear about the show it makes me see fucking red. I HAD to get this shit out somewhere because the only partner I have that would be interested in talking about the show itself actually kind of likes it and I know they would hate to hear me endlessly shitting on it.

And if you managed to get through this long as fuck text post, and you’re a mega fan of this show, just know that I’m so glad you got something out of it. I just thought it was poorly done.

And for everyone else who managed to read through the whole thing, thanks for taking the time this thing turned out to be so so long.

Anyway. That’s just like, my opinion, man.

[kittyyyyyyy]

im just very curious as to why someone would reblog 2 note stock clipart with no context. i just can't stop wondering. what does it mean

Hi, anonymous. I am honored to be the subject of your thoughts. Unfortunately I have no defined, conscious reason for reblogging 2-note context-less clipart. Though actually the last one I reblogged was because I found it funny & I won't freaking lie sister, it appealed to my artistic sensibilities. Do you want to hear me vomit words for a couple more paragraphs

There might be some reasons if I think about them. There's an obvious paradigm-shift element here or context shift or whatever. Stock art is already a strange context to exist in. Art that you're not really supposed to consider. It's just a pitcher ! Well then you seat it in front of somebody as a piece in an aggregate of selected images & there you go, you're considering it now.

I think I also kind of like it aesthetically, & whatever visual language it uses appeals to me. It's stiff, clean, & almost lifeless (A.K.A. DEAD which is dope + metal) I like its "digitality" & copious use of gradients.

A couple of my favorite artists right now are Sarah Griotto, Jasper Goodall, & Bree Leman. Maybe I just like very graphic artwork. Hell if I know

[rametarin]

How I'd resolve the "female space marine" problem

One of the reasons why the Space Marines are exclusively male is because, "of tradition." Why is the Imperium bad? Because, as per the setting, it's a crumbing imperial power. Things are bad, BECAUSE of the hatred, the prejudices, the dogmas, the stigmas, the bigotries. It's part of WHY imperialism is bad. It's why the hive cities are sprawling dystopias that are perfect examples of death cults and totalitarian shitfests with authoritarianism at the top and anarchy on the seedy underbellies like Necromunda.

If you add female space marines to THE most regimented of factions, you institute change and hope to the setting. It's supposed to be an example of how society abuses the male sex into forced conscription, starts their training and indoctrination off as virtually child soldiers in their early teens, and then disposes of them.

Narratively speaking, sexually integrating that would serve the same purposes of adding white people and white slaves getting whipped alongside the black slaves in early colonial America, just to show how white slaves existed alongside the black and Asian. In a movie emphasizing the horrors specifically of black chattel slavery, it does little more than deplete the message and emphasis of the inhumanity happening to the black man in a movie about black slavery.

Meanwhile, the Sweet Baby Incs of the world simply do not want an all cis male faction to exist, because they see cis males as oppressors and perhaps even something to wash away in a sea of options and alternatives. To even have an all male faction to them, much the same way hard-leftists view all male-centric aspects that exist in our culture or society, as inherently oppressive to women. And yet, they will go to bat and defend all-female groups, clubs and things that explicitly say, "no boys or boy-identifying allowed." It isn't JUST about giving more appeal to female fans by adding women to the space marines to them, it's about imposing their standards and ideology to existing properties, bugger their narrative importance.

Among those that hold these disgusting beliefs that, "fiction is reality," that your work and art needs to reflect THEIR sensibilities and standards of what constitutes acceptable for, "our culture," and "our society," that means if you even have an all male faction in fiction for narrative purposes, you'd best prepare to have them make a big hullabaloo of "bringing your work into the 21st century!" and then talking big about how they're, "Juuuust sooo progressive and good, gais!" How they're, "making changes and improving the lot of women and minorities!"

What you're doing is making a big deal out of justifying elimination of art and story because it doesn't fit your agenda- one that says even allowing such things to exist in fiction somehow "sets a precedent" to allow people to think that's okay. You won't allow the image of rats for fear the existence of the images will encourage rat infestations in homes. It's asinine. You can't control peoples minds, so you create this elaborate nonsensical worldview where if you can just control art and speech, you can control their culture, and through controlling culture, control their thoughts.

And that to me describes the motivations of the loudest voices behind wanting female space marines. Anyone that argues for it and uses the word, "chud," can be described as this kind of shitty person. They don't want female space marines just because it'd be cool, but because it's about principle to them.

Therefore, I judge these motivations for wanting female space marines to be invalid and shit.

However, sidestepping the Sweet Baby Incs. of the world, if we were going purely by logic, there's no reason save some superscience space magic involved in why a female space marine couldn't exist.

Space Marines are created by a process in which they take some of the DNA of a Primarch and treat it, somehow making it an injectable thing into a prospective human being. This, 'geneseed' then starts mutating the human being into a minor homunculus version of their, "gene father." The process is extremely painful and horrific as the human being becomes a transhumanist weapon of war, their body not even belonging to them anymore, as they become an esteemed yet extremely expendible soldier of the holy human empire.

It is absolutely body horror, it is absolutely dehumanization, it is absolutely objectification. That is part of the horror of the setting. The Space Marines as an institution, by design of a farcical sci-horror-comedy, are a caricature of war and military and imperialism to the umpteenth degree, where traditions and standards don't change for literal tens of thousands of years because the horrifying existential stagnancy and bleakness of that change prevents any real progress, and the end user sees, unlikely to change or improve into the future.

And that is the point. That is the fucking point.

It's like if someone tried to have a movie about bigotry but wouldn't allow any of the characters or the laws they operate under to be bigoted. There'd be no conflict, no lesson, no example of things to change. There'd be no working reminder of how shit that thing is. Those that haven't experienced the oppressions would not understand their absence.

To be a Space Marine is the male experience of existing in a binary sexed species wherein because you are not the designated sex designed to bear children or expected or capable of nurturing the young in the same way as the females, you're expendable meat. The Space Marines scope out human populations for potential viable candidates, find them as pre-teens or teenagers, get them into programs to indoctrinate them, educate them, hock them up on geneseed to turn them into mini-versions of the named brand offspring of the Emperor and exemplars of the imperialist creed and imperium at large, and then go die in a trench as a faceless, nameless instrument of the state.

To sexually integrate that is basically a bad faith move to cheapen how that was a uniquely male expectation ("But women experienced it too!" Shut up. Women were never expected to be fodder on the front line and you fucking know it.) and retroactively censor how that was a unique burden placed on men by society and the state. Because it doesn't sell the image of women and other non-cismale sexual minorities as The Oppressed in their dichotomy of whom is oppressor vs. whom is oppressed. Arguing that society is baseline male supremacist, male dominated, and patriarchal. Which isn't true.

And yet, if we marginalize and minimize the horrors of war, imperialism, the bleakness and the despair, and think logically, there's only one unknown that causes the idea of female space marines to not work:

It's literal space magic with the black boxes of the geneseed. It's already purported to be between 20% of aspirants die during geneseed implantation and augmentation, and Fabius Bile is quoted as between 1/100 and 1/1000 that live to acually make it to the battlefield. And it's maintained solely because of the sheer SIZE and SCALE of the Imperium of Man. And that's with the sex more compatible with geneseed.

Do you know what happens when you give the wrong sex the wrong dosage and medications of certain drugs and chemicals? They experience minor complications, to death because the female physiology is not equipped to function that way. It's pretty much how the chromosonally male body is not physiologically set up to handle pregnancy beyond the existence of a uterus. The hardware isn't there and the function is incompatible.

To have female space marines, in the context of the setting, both hard functional and social, one would have to rethink the entire idea of a space marine, what is is, and how it's made.

Option 1: The Retconomicon Continuous.

Perhaps the least satisfying but most humorous option. The first alternative to designated all male sexed chapters, is simply say the Space Marines have always had female members, but they became battle brothers.

I'm not satisfied by this for the simple reason that it's stupid. They only take males, and after they give people a thorough exam to check them for possible problems, you'd think intersexed disorders or being female would strike them off from being acceptable candidates, given how expensive the geneseed resource is. It's... An Option. Not one I'd choose, but an option.

Option 2: The Imperial Hammers

Okay, imagine if you will, a joint project between the Adeptus Mechanicus and the Imperial Navy and Guard. Resources and development goes into an alternative to the Geneseed process, instead creating a more Captain America-esque system, and more Disel Punk, Exo-Squadian power armor. Lower quality than space marines and their armor, but you also have the advantage of a sexually integrated force, the ability to forge entirely new ground, and now the opportunity for elite special forces for the Imperial Guard.

Not only does it offer the opportunity for a special faction with traditions and heraldry and pomp and station, but also allows them to work very closely with the Imperial Guard. A go-between. Not quite as powerful as space marines, but more numerous, more responsive, more localized and convenient. They make up for their lack of raw alpha damage and armor with numerous and coordination and grit, just like the Imperial Guard ought to.

I cannot emphasize enough that these are already sexually integrated and as they do not use geneseed would not even need any way to modify existing continuity of the geneseed or the basis of the Space Marines in order to have more high flying, sonic or power blade wielding, bolter using armored up members of the Guard. It sidesteps ALL narrative problems of changing the Adeptus Astartes and gives people more of what their stated wants are: More opportunities for female frontline combatants, more opportunities for spotlights that are not dependent on sex, more narrative stories between Space Marines and the imperial Guard.

Option 3: The Iron Turncoats.

Imagine, if you will, a multi series long story set over a bunch of novels starring a T'au owned world with a human civilization on it, living under their Greater Good. This world becomes the testbed and hotspot where the T'au try and recreate Space Marines without really understanding geneseed verywell, the same way they try and reverse engineer other species' technology. Like they did with warp travel.

Well shit happens, they actually succeed in making space marines, of a sort, using modified geneseed. Exactly what they do to it isn't 100% known. Maybe it's damaged. Maybe it's just a variant with different minds and eyes at the helm, maybe it's just a fluke. Whatever the true reason, this reverse engineered variant of geneseed serves as the basis and template for their own designs, starting from scratch to accomplish the same goals. Perhaps even implied that they had more than a little assistance by a certain chairbound advocate in a golden room.

The end result is the T'au succeed in creating unique space marines, but didn't get the memo that the magic biological stuff doesn't need to work on females. So, this completely different substance that results in the augmentation process is engineered and designed with the female body in mind. Either as a his-and-hers or to be independent of the Y chromosome or necessity of two Xs.

Well now we have actual T'au Space Marines and an approximate of Black Carapace and not!Geneseed.

Something Happens, and the Ta'u Space Marines wind up meeting Guilliman, or Bellisarius Cawl, or both of them, in some fluke of fate. Circumstances see this T'auborn Faction wind up taken into Imperial custody for study and research via xenobiologists.

Guilleman, being a practical man that speaks for the Emperor, decides to shield these very very heretical entities from the full brunt of Imperial dogma, as is his right to do so. Bellisarius Cawl, similarly. And so they sit down with this strange anomalous faction for a chat.

Fast forwards a bit, and now you have a faction that is not the Adeptus Astartes proper, but fulfills a different niche. For all intents and purposes, it is an alternative method of producing what for all intents and purposes are Space Marines. One where the process does not care if you are male or female, but becomes the method by which female bodied space marines can exist without the rejection by Geneseed.

Option 4: The Holy Fire Control Computer

What happens when you mix the Adeptus Mechanicus and the Ecclesiarchy? An independent branch that operates between them. You get the Sisters of Battle's resources and the Mechanicus maintenance and know-how, and the massive flock of adherents to the Imperial Truth.

The Sisters of Battle don't solely exist just on the basis of "lol female only faction." It's also based on a bit of their lore that made exceptions for defenders, because they weren't men. So, you get Nuns with Guns.

I, also, don't want to pollute those waters that give females and women their own little representative club where they're the important group, with femininity being important to the basis of said group. So being loosely affiliated or borne of the relationship between them and the mechanicus for something new, is the most appropriate. Those loyal to the Sisters way of doing things, therefore, become Sisters of Battle.

The problem with the idea it'd be a Mechanicus only development would be, specifically, fears it'd be loyal to Mars first, not humanity, not the Emperor. Can't have that. Combining the techological resources and skill and know-how of the admechs with the pro-human and pro-emperor positions of the ecclesiarchy, you have a security force that sits somewhere between the space marines and imperial guard that isn't technically owned or a subserviant branch of either.

So take these two factions for their resources and knowledge and philosophy, and you get whatever they make. It would not need geneseed to function, and could use a wholly different process.

You'd therefore have an alternative to Astartes that function as Astartes do, alongside Mechanicus and Ecclesiarchy/Sisters of Battle interests. Room for specialist factions, lore factions, heraldry, and a million stories.

At the end of the day, "Woke" writing is about getting their way in accodance with their principles, in the end. They care as much about the setting and the subject matter and the sensitivities and important of the work, as a rapist cares about the emotional health, the physical integrity and the meaning of sex in the context of the recipients culture, in who they impose sex on. They do not care about what it means to other people, they will have their way.

We see this in how they ideologically demolished Werewolf: the Apocalypse without even trying to integrate passed lore and meta into the new, or square the circles and incongruence of how what they want does not square with what is or has been, they just plain ripped out what did not appeal to them and move on as if the cultural facets didn't matter and weren't important, since they didn't agree with them. They do not care about Warhammer 40,000 or why things are as they are, they see only an opportunity to do damage to something and scream about how they're opposing "the patriarchy" and "freeing people." They don't CARE how the changes they want to institute would change the setting, only that they get their way on their pretenses. That is all they care about. The imaginary smiling faces on the imaginary people that imaginarily care their imaginary rights were defended from an imaginary boogyman.

They do not care about how one might properly expand the setting to incorporate something like what they want. Their model isn't to add a chair to the table, or make the table bigger, it's simply to take someone else away from their seat they can odd-man-out and replace, to add whom they want to it. Alternatives, to them, are just "more acceptable stepping stones" to appropriating a thing and controlling it.

And that's why they won't settle for anything less than, "you aren't allowed to have a boys-only faction anymore." Because it's not about women in power armor, it's about male groups not being allowed to be male groups, anymore.

[merakiui]

A Leaf Swept up in an Autumnal Breeze

yandere!kaedehara kazuha x (gender neutral) reader art credit - Tourou_7 on twt cw: yandere, unhealthy/obsessive behaviors, slight nsfw implications/thoughts, alcohol consumption, intoxication, spoilers for kazuha’s character story + inazuma lore note - i decided to write something short for kazuha as i analyze what we know so far of his character. hopefully the characterization isn’t too off! please enjoy nonetheless! orz

The moonlight casts its thin rays upon the calm, motionless sea. In the distance, fish surface and their movements are captured in the ripples that expand in the water, a minor blip in the otherwise tranquil atmosphere of the dark night. As if a god has taken a brush to the sky, utilizing its inky vastness as a canvas, the stars have been drawn in small specks—winking down at those who sleep underneath a blanket of natural light.

And you are caught up in the glorious shimmer, grinning widely as Beidou wraps her arm around you, pulling you against her as if the two of you have known each other for years. In reality, it’s only been a few months since you were discovered on her ship: a hidden stowaway with your Vision clutched in your hands and raw resolve etched into your body in the form of bruises and old scars. You’re a fighter and yet you also ran from something. Kazuha can’t quite tell what it is you’ve escaped. Whether it’s another person, a group of people, or even an entire nation, he’s certain it’s worthy of the risks that come with fleeing.

Your Vision shines brightly, a stark contrast to the dark color scheme of your clothes. He tries to place a nation to your outfit and comes up empty, his thoughts returning to Inazuma as though it’s the only place he can think of. And he supposes that’s true. The situation in Inazuma has clouded his mind with its strange fog, taking up residence in the nooks and crannies of his brain. Though he can dwell upon the past and the mistakes that led up to the downfall of a precious friend, he knows there is no use for such somber reflections during a happy celebration. Life moves on, as the common saying goes, and he cannot allow himself to remain trapped in the past.

During moments such as these, where he relives the horrible memory in vivid detail, you are a sweet balm that soothes the sting of loss. Even when you’re struggling to stand, face hot from the intoxication of good drinks in even better company, you’re a wondrous presence who chases away his doubts and worries.

Unknowingly, you cast a temporary shroud over those matters and he’s put at ease the minute you extend your arm in his direction.

“Kazuha! Come over here. Let’s dance!”

A hiccup interrupts your jovial giggle and Beidou chuckles before throwing her head back to drink what’s left in her flask. The aura of her ship is beyond lively. Men and women alike celebrate another successful week with drinks, harrowing tales of past heroes, and broken ballads sang in drunken tones. He can’t help the smile that sprouts on his lips. You’re such an outgoing person, always wanting to include him in your daily activities. And though he politely declines whenever you offer him alcohol, he has wondered what the appeal could possibly be.

Perhaps it’s the idea of losing your sensibility for one night, ignoring all reason for the sake of spending pleasurable moments in the confines of a warm bed, wrapped snugly in a lover’s embrace. Such instances are lost to intoxicating pleasure—buried under a hazy recollection come morning. But you haven’t done that sort of thing. Kazuha would know. He listens in while you’re relaxing—while you’re bathing and going about life on the ship without a care in the world—and his head runs wild with all sorts of fantasies. Fantasies he never would have imagined had he not met you.

To think you were just a mere stowaway, a trespasser who had snuck onto the ship and hid in the darkest corner, obscured by crates and chests. And he had pulled those crates aside in search of a few ingredients and his eyes met yours and you held your finger to your lips—a silent urge to keep quiet—and his heart skipped a beat.

It was a special meeting between two, which will remain locked away in his heart for all of eternity. A memory he regards with warm fondness. After much negotiation and a disarming conversation, you were soon welcomed with open arms as Beidou practically offered you to join her crew. You had nowhere else to go—no one else to see or protect—and so you agreed. And Kazuha felt a relief he hasn’t felt in a while, the sort of emotion that stems from almost losing something important.

The pure relief that comes and goes once he realizes you’re a missing piece in the puzzle of his life.

“You’ll trip,” he warns, pushing off from the side of the ship and walking over to you and Beidou. “It wouldn’t be wise to dance in your inebriated state. Surely you’re aware of this, no?”

“I can hold my alcohol.” Your wavering glare doesn’t reach him. “Don’t... Don’t think otherwise or else I’ll—ah!”

The majority of Beidou’s weight burdens your shoulders and you nearly almost crumble.

“You—“ she searches for a means to steady herself— “worry too much,” the captain adds, nodding in agreement to an unspoken statement. “It’ll be okay! Live a little while you’re still young.”

Kazuha sighs and easily slips between the two of you, hooking his arm around Beidou’s waist as he guides her to a barrel. The scent of alcohol kisses the air, clinging to your clothes and breath like an oversaturated perfume. Once she’s sat down, now fully determined to get the last few drops from out of the flask, the rōnin turns to you. He’s caught by surprise when your hands grasp his, your eager expression stabbing his heart with a dozen pins. He’s rooted to the floorboards, unable to look away when your face is dangerously close to his.

“You heard the captain,” you tease in a slurred voice. “Live a little.”

And he does. Or he thinks he does. Having traveled with Beidou, this is the current life he’s come to know and appreciate. But is it truly living if he feels unfulfilled in the process? To find a means for bringing back the familiar glow in a lonely Vision. To secure peace of mind and put his rowdy thoughts to rest. To one day return to the nation he was forced to flee, with you in tow. Are all of these things necessary in order to fill the gaping void in his damaged heart? Kazuha wonders if you also came from Inazuma. Perhaps you wouldn’t be so surprised to see the scenery if he were to take you there. Not now, of course. Sometime in the future, if such a future holds a changed Inazuma.

“I’m going to warn you now,” he mumbles, his fingers ghosting over your waist, “I’m not what one would call a dancer of skillful grace.”

“I don’t think that’s true, dear Kazuha.”

He blinks once and then releases a short laugh at the endearing term. “If you say so.”

“Enough talk.” You huff and pull him into your chest and he feels as though he could stay locked in this position for millennia. “Dance with me before...” A stilted pause as you nearly forget your sentence. “Before I turn in for the night. That’s it.”

Or before you get sick, he thinks, not so cheerful about the inevitable mess. But he’ll tolerate it because you’ve tolerated him. You never pry into his past, nor do you force him to answer personal questions regarding Inazuma and the Raiden Shogun. If you ever notice the way he lingers near your quarters, you don’t say a word. And if you hear his subdued moans as his hand moves in time with a picturesque fantasy of your nude form pressed against his, you keep your mouth shut. You are everything he could ever want and like the very ideal the Raiden Shogun wishes to uphold he wants to pursue an eternity with you.

Your movements are far from the precision you normally have when moving about the ship and it’s a very odd dance. Yet you spin him and he follows your unusual lead like an animal with tunnel vision. For a taut moment, the background noise melts away into obscurity and the two of you are the only people in existence. He stares at your face the entire time, ignoring the way your sandals crush his feet or the instances where he unintentionally returns the gesture. It’s certainly an awkward sort of waltz, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And in this moment where no one else matters, he sees your radiance in the glow of the moon. You truly are worthy of the sun and the stars beyond and should you verbalize an outlandish wish of that nature he has no choice but to follow through.

Like a leaf swept up in an autumnal breeze, reminiscent of a ronin who lacks a place in the world, Kazuha allows himself to be carried on by the winds that rustle the sails and tangle through your hair, painting you in a backdrop that’s heaven handcrafted by the pickiest god. And where you have your wits, a lively Vision, and your confidence, he only has his blade, a dull Vision, and an inkling of hope. But that’s really all he requires.

[2hoothoots]

Jumping on the bandwagon 👀 6, 13, and 21 :)

6. Anything that might inspire you subconsciously (i.e. this horse wasn't supposed to look like the Last Unicorn but I see it)

if i'm being honest with myself, a lot of my sensibilities around how i use graphic shapes and lines are from the 2010s cartoons i used to watch - stuff like Panty and Stocking, Randy Cunningham 9th Grade Ninja, and Motorcity. i think that kind of bold, swooshing shape language permanently burrowed itself into my brain and irrevocably shaped my taste back when i was a teenager

13. A creator who you admire but whose work isn't your thing

oooh, that's an interesting one. i'd probably say Alex Ahad! i really like his art style, and his design work on Skullgirls is super great, but he... i can't really beat around the bush on this one, he draws a lot of pinups that aren't really my thing, but listen godspeed to the guy he clearly knows what he likes and i salute him for that

21. Art styles nothing like your own but you like anyways

this is kind of tricky because when i really like an artstyle i want to steal it. i break little pieces of art styles i like off and i take them back to my nest to fawn over and admire. i guess i'd say, the anime kind of style like the one you see on character art for gachas like Genshin or Arknights? like, with the super detailed character designs and the fine linework and the almost glowing lighting? it's very appealing to me, and also i have no desire to incorporate any of it into my own art style, i just appreciate it from afar

[honeypirate]

In Madness lies Sanity

Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader - College AU

Based off the bit by Allan Watts. I read the transcript and I thought— Ushijima in love with his best friend listening to this talk about love in one of his classes and realizing that he needs to tell them the truth. Allan watts bit is in blue, the fic is in white.

Ushijima wasn’t one to dwell too long on trivial matters. He works through them and then forgets them. He focuses on what is important and what will bring him closer to his desired future. He isn’t one who is sucked into madness and drama, he has a strong level head and it’s something he takes pride in. So he’s trying to apply his ideas to how he handles his feelings for you, is it trivial? Is it important to tell you? He was struggling before he walked into class Monday morning and had his eyes opened by the video played during lecture.

- I’m going to talk to you about a particularly virulent and dangerous form of divine madness which is called falling in love. Which is, from a practical point of view, one of the most insane things you can do, or that can happen to you. Because in the eyes of a given woman or a given man, an opposite who go to the eyes of everybody else a perfectly plain and ordinary person can appear to be God or Goddess incarnate .... And this is an extraordinary disruptive experience a subversive experience in the conduct of human affairs

You were never a plain and ordinary person to him and he believes that’s where it got confused. He always has and always will see you as an extraordinary individual, regardless of things that may be seen as flaws or imperfections, regardless of your mistakes. You didn’t transform from one thing to the next, you were the same angel he knew, so when his heart flipped from friendship to love, he wasn’t paying attention.

- Because you never know when it will strike off for what reason. It’s something like contracting a very chronic disease once you get into it

If anyone asked Ushijima who his best friend is his first thought is you. His first thought thought is always you. His constant. His true best friend who is there for him through anything. He’ll open his mouth and say “y/n is my best friend” and when people would point out just how close they are he just shrugged, weren’t friends supposed to be close?

When he thinks back now, now that his feelings are obvious, he realizes that it was just a matter of time until he fell in love with you. He can pinpoint every moment along his life where love was obvious, every joke and hug that at the time he thought was just nice, when he loaned you his sweatshirt and then didn’t wash it because it smelled like you. When he would spend all his valuable and limited free time with you just because he liked the way you would smile as he walked you home. He thinks back to all of his dates in high school and college, of the dating app conversations he’s had or blind dates his friends had set up, and they all failed because of one simple reason- none of them were you.

- I would like to make some reflections on this particular form of madness, and to raise again a very disturbing question. And this disturbing question is as follows: Is it only when you are in love with another person that you see them as they really are? And in the ordinary way, when you are not in love with people you see only a fragmented version of that being.

He’s spent hours turned to days to weeks as he keeps thinking about whether or not he loves you or if he just thinks he could because of how close you already are. He’s lost track of time connecting different dots and making different lists and theories, replaying you’re entire friendship back in his head. He’s thought about the times he saw you drunk in college and puking on his shoes as he helps you home, when you decided you wanted to try and longboard and turfed it so bad your arm was gashed from wrist to elbow and he had carried you to the urgent care. all your reckless and crazy ideas you dragged him along with, you were almost as bad as tendou but he just wanted to take care of you as best as he could. He can feel the desire in his bones to make sure you were always taken care of, a feeling he knows he’ll have until he dies.

He thinks about when you had dated Oikawa and for the entire three months he had an ulcer but didn’t know why. He thought it was because of his pain relievers and quit them the week you broke up with him, not realizing the connection. When he’d get acid in his throat when you talked about dating someone else, he thought he just needed some milk. How blind he had been.

-Because when you are in love with someone you do indeed see them as a divine being. And suppose that’s what they are truly. And your eyes have by your beloved been opened in which case your beloved is serving to you as a kind of guru. An initiator. And that is why there is a form of sexual yoga, based on the idea that man and woman are to each other as mutual guru and student. And through a tremendous outpouring of psychic energy in total devotion and worship to this other person who is respectively the goddess of the god.

Being someone’s best and closest friend consisted of seeing their entirety and choosing to stay and love them anyway. To care for them. He can’t say for certain where he crossed over into love, into wanting to hug you and kiss you, wanting to be the only one you think about, but there’s not much he can do about it now and he doesn’t want to.

Ushijima sees you. He sees your good and your bad and everything in between, he sees you for you. Your ordinary mundane ways of life that he can’t help but want to share with you. Grocery shopping, library trips, post office runs, he wants them all to be done with you. He truly cannot imagine anyone else taking that spot in his heart.

Wanting to show you what he sees. What he knows to be true about you. he wants to scream from the rooftops how amazing you are and he’s not a very loud person. He sees the way you care for your friends selflessly and give and give all you have just so that others can be happy and you never complain. You do what you can when you can and still have time to take care of yourself he never knew how you did it so effortlessly, even when you’d vent to him you never regretted helping others.

He sees the way you lift up those around you. How you leave everyone a little more positive than before you talked to them. He doesn’t know how you do it. He’s convinced you’re an angel and he’s dying to show you just how amazing he knows you are. But he doesn’t want to ruin your friendship. He sees your entirety, your full book instead of just the cover, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He wanted to give you this energy and receive it in turn and he’s never been so absolutely terrified.

-You realize by total fusion and contact with the other organism. You go down to the divine center in them and it bounces back and you discover your own or you could put it in this way which is another aspect of it that by falling in love and regarding falling in love not just as a sort of sexual infatuation, because it’s always more than that, isn’t it. I mean you can have a great sexual enjoyment with a pleasant friend, you know. But you may do so simply because he or she appeals to your aesthetic senses. But when you fall in love, it’s a much more serious involvement, you just cannot forget this person. You feel miserable when not in their presence, you’re always yearning, that’s get to see more of each other let’s get together that’s we’re completely entangled and then you see you’ve actually kind of out what I would call spiritual element has been introduced. And the Hindus were sensible enough to realize that this was a means of awakening, enlightenment, and therefore it was. Surrounded. With a sort of rigid religious ritual meditative art, with a form of sexual yoga that is designed to allow the feeling of mutual love to the extent of grand passion to have an extremely fitting fulfillment and expression.

Ushijima has always thought you were beautiful. Any human with eyes would think that. But your beauty and attraction went far deeper than that. Sure he’s had fleeting thoughts about how good you looked in a dress but he never let them linger. It felt wrong to think of you like that. But now that he’s an adult, a grown man and not a teenager anymore, he wants to kiss you, to hold your hand, maybe more but it wasn’t about that. It was about the intimacy, the closeness, the vulnerability.

Awakening. Enlightenment. Two words that before he didn’t really think about. But now he feels changed. Now that he’s realized how much he loves you has lifted his spirits, made him dream of the passion and happiness you could have together. He feels himself slipping into the joy of being in love with his best friend and imagining all the ways that love could grow. He feels only half of himself when he’s without you, always needing to see you or be around you, but you never made him feel clingy or bad. You met him in kind, telling him how much you wanted to be around him too.

At first he thought that this love was a trivial thing, something he could push from his mind, but after his weeks of thought he knows this is a lot more serious than he’s experienced before.

-Falling in love is a thing that strikes like lightning and is therefore extremely analogous to the mystical vision. We don’t know. No how really people attain the mystical vision. There is not as yet a very clear rationale as to how it happens because we do know that it is opened to many people who never did anything to look for it. And many people especially in adolescence have had the mystical vision all of a sudden without the slightest warning and with no previous interest in that kind of thing

He remembers what he was doing when it dawned on him that he was in love, when he felt the air leave his lungs and his eyes widen softly when he realized how nice it would be to kiss your temple and he couldn’t even finish the thought as the feeling ran from his head to his toes.

He was standing in your kitchen as you finished making your lunch for the following day and you made a joke that made yourself laugh, he didn’t think it was a very funny joke but you didn’t care. You giggled to yourself and he couldn’t help but wish he could witness that forever. It hit him like a brick that he would, in almost an instant, give his entirety to you. It terrified him when he imagines you and him ending like his parents. But behind the terror, the fear of divorce, was a softer and quieter emotion that he tried to focus on harder than the insanity of his anxiety. A softer, lovelier, hopeful feeling that he usually gets every time you smile at him. That was the feeling he was searching for, everything else was irrelevant for a few glorious moments.

-But as yet we are not clear as to why it comes about and if there is any method of attaining it the best one is probably to give up the whole idea of getting it…. you see it is completely unpredictable and so it is in that way like falling in love, capricious and therefore crazy. But if you should be so fortunate as to encounter either of these experiences. It seems to me to be a total denial of life to refuse it. And what we therefore have to. Admit in our society is so that we can contain this kind of madness.

He called Tendou that evening, telling him that he thinks he loves you, and Tendou about had a conniption. He was in Paris as his best friend fell in love for the first time. He talked him through it, told him how good it can be. That yes it was going to be work but the reward would be worth it. To not sell himself short out of his own fears. He deserves much more than that. Tendou’s last phrase is what sunk in deep “I know it was unpredictable, that it feels so fickle, but that’s what love is like buddy! You can’t deny it Ushi, you can’t run from it or hide from it, it will only hurt you in the long run”

- You see, in this way we can think about and structure the necessary stable social institution of family sometime without it being constantly threatened of foundering on the rocks of love. Now you see this then means that when when people marry they take any vows at all to each other instead of saying that they will always be true to each other in the sense of meaning I Will Always Love YoU, It means I will be true to you in the sense of I will always be truthful to. I will not pretend that my feelings towards you ARE other than what they are. Because I marry you, because I think that you are a reasonable person to live with and therefore I want you to be you I want you to be someone else I want to be a rubber stamp of me–how boring that would be?! an arrangement in which people set each other free and make an alliance to cooperate with each other in certain ways. Now if it should so occur that they are of immense sexual attraction to each other, so much the better? That this should not be a primary factor in entering into marriage. Admittedly, you must be to a certain extent attractive to each other otherwise there will be no progeny. But this is this is seems to me to be a sensible and reasonable view and just because it is sensible and reasonable it can accommodate what is not sensible and reasonable which is falling in love.

Ushijima is terrified. He’s terrified because the instant immediate joy he felt when he realized he loved you was almost overtaken by worries and stress. He loves you! Now what? He loves structure in his life and he values stability but he knows how rocky relationships can be and how they can ultimately end. He knows he won’t deny it, he won’t back away because of his fear but he needs a plan. A plan to take to you and talk about it, he knows you’ll have the right thing to say but he doesn’t even know what he’ll even say to you yet. He loves that you are so carefree and goofy, a breath of fresh air to his stoicism. You’ve even gently worked your way so deep into his soul that you feel like his other half, his complete other in every way, someone who wasn’t like him at all and how wonderful that is.

Once in his life he thought that arranged marriages were smarter, you did it out of logic and bloodline and family, nothing messy to deal with. But that structure, that boring empty rocky foundation that an arrangement might bring made his mouth taste bad, although at the time he convinced himself it was because it would be more like another job that takes up his time (away from you)

Sensible and reasonable was right up his alley, he thought how nice it would be to have a mini him but he couldn’t think about having that with anyone. He couldn’t think of another half of dna that baby would share that would make it worth it. Not until he saw a picture of you holding your nephew, now whenever he thinks of his babies they share your genes. He thinks of a chunky baby with your eyes and his hair color, a mix of your personality and he’d share volleyball with them. He’s never wanted kids as much as he does when he thinks about sharing them with you. And that’s the part that feels senseless, the love part, the part where you give your entirety to someone and trust that they will care and keep you, no matter what happens, save its not infidelity or other deal breakers of yours he already knows.

Ushijima’s theorizing and thoughts about you over the course of time went from being about understanding why he feels like this to imagining fake scenarios where he wants to take you abroad to travel together, to be together every day and share the hard times and good times, babies or not, marriage or not. He just wants to make you happy for the rest of his life no matter what and he can’t go on much longer without knowing he has a chance to do so

- Well now really when we go back then to falling in love. And say it’s crazy falling. You see we don’t say rising into love. There is in it the idea of the fall. And it is goes back as a matter of fact two extremely fundamental things that there is always a curious tie at some point between the fall and the creation. Taking this ghastly risk, is the condition of there being life. You see, for all life is an act of faith and an act of gamble

And so here he was. Sitting on a bench outside of your dorm, feet bouncing as he stared at the small patch of grass growing in between the sidewalk crack. It’s been a while since that class and he’s been thinking about this constantly.

He knows the risk, feels it in his heart every time he meets up separately with his parents since their divorce. He sees it every time he remembers his childhood and the messy separation. That mess he never wants to repeat. The fall that comes with this love is like that class video had told him, ghastly. He doesn’t know if this could ruin it all, if he takes the leap of faith and it all comes crumbling down years later he’ll be just another divorce. He doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to end up like his parents and have a child who feels the same. But when he imagines his life he doesn’t think he could be haply without you by his side.

- the moment you take a step, you do so on an act of faith, because you don’t really know that the floors not going to give in to your feet. The moment you take a journey what an act of faith. The moment you enter into any kind of human undertaking in relationship what an act of faith you see you’ve given yourself up. But this is the most powerful thing that can be done surrender see and love is an act of surrender to another person. Total abandonment. I give myself to you. Take me, do anything you like with me. So, that’s quite mad because you see it’s letting things get out of control all sensible people keep things in control.

You know something is up the moment you open the doors and see his back on the bench. You were going to his place since he wasn’t answering his phone, you freeze at the doors at watch him for a moment as your anxiety spikes in your stomach. His shoulders are tense as he leans forward, elbows on his thighs and hands clasped together as he looks down between his bouncing feet. Before you really think about it, you follow the urge to comfort him, to talk to him and make sure it’s all okay. Your feet carry you quickly to his side and you sit down, pulling him into a side hug and wrapping your arms around him.

He gasps when you sit and as you’re wrapping your arms around him he furrows his brows and hugs you back. His heart racing As his fears take the back burner. He didn’t expect you to find him but he also didn’t know how long he’s been sitting here. He buries his face into your neck as he you hold each other in the cool spring evening.

“What’s wrong?” You ask as you hold him and feels his walls break down, his arms tighten around you

“I’m scared” he says quietly and his voice cracks

“Of what Toshi? You can always talk to me” Your fingers run through his hair softly and it soothes his nerves.

He pulls back and cups your cheeks, his eyebrows were still furrowed and his stoic expression was broken by his eyes that were swimming with worry and insecurity.

You saw everything in his eyes and you met him with your determination and steady unwavering love he finds in your eyes. God he feels so mad. So incredibly and undeniably mad and insane and like he isn’t in control. He needs to tell you. Needs the words to come out of his throat so he can calm his heart and soothe his ulcer. The anxiety felt like it was immeasurable and his breathing was starting to get faster until you placed your hands on his cheeks, smothering the bad feelings completely “it’s okay Wakatoshi, I’m right here”

Ushijima feels the exact moment his heart relaxes into the faith, the surrender into love trusting that the floor isn’t going to collapse under his feet, the moment he gives his whole self, body and soul, to the fall, and that moment was when your lips touched his for the first time. Then he let go, the madness left his body and was replaced with a calm assurance that yes, yes this was it, what he’s been waiting for, what he’s been yearning for.

- for all the cost and wisdom what is really sensible is to let go that is to commit oneself to give oneself up and that’s quite mad,

-so we come to the strange conclusion that in madness lies sanity.

[cristalconnors]

TOP 20 SONGS OF 2020

20. “BELOW THE CLAVICLE”- EARTHEATER

“The meaning hasn’t come up yet. It’s still under the surface below the clavicle.”

It isn’t just Alexandra Drewchin’s ear splitting soprano when she hits that impossibly high B, practically shrieking out the “cle” syllable of clavicle, though that’s undoubtedly when I first knew that Eartheater’s avant folk was for me- it’s also the cinematic, lush strings, both bowed and plucked (is that acoustic guitar or harp? I genuinely can’t tell), deepening and complicating the sonic texture of Drewchin’s study of parsing through emotions you aren’t ready to make sense of yet. 

19. “PUSSY TALK”- CITY GIRLS, FT. DOJA CAT

“This pussy so ghetto, this pussy speak ebonics”

“WAP”’s funnier, classless Irish twin, though it’s important to note “Pussy Talk” came first. Yung Miami and JT enlist Doja Cat to expound on everything their pussies deserve and will absolutely settle for nothing less than. And why should they when they’re spitting out verses this inspiredly hilarious with such confidence and flow? 

18. “LICK IN HEAVEN”- JESSY LANZA

“Once I’m spinning, I can’t stop spinning...”

Jessy Lanza is talking about losing your cool, letting your emotions get the best of you and lashing out instead of letting cooler heads prevail, but when that earworm of a chorus hits- “once I’m spinning, I can’t stop spinning” - I can’t stop spinning. I’m that woman on the single art, a wine mom lost in the delirium of the dance floor and in Lanza’s hypnotic, fragmented rhythms.  

17. “GASLIGHTER”- THE CHICKS

“Boy, you know exactly what you did on my boat!”

“Gaslighter” finds Natalie Ames and her Chicks at their most simultaneously ruthless and ebullient, ripping Ames’s ex-husband Adrian Pasdar a new asshole and ratcheting up the righteous anger of “Goodbye Earl” tenfold, channeling it into a glorious wall of sound in what might be their most rousing, emotionally resonant chorus in their storied career. 

16. “HANNAH SUN”- LOMELDA

“Hannah do no harm...”

While “Hannah Sun” begins as an exquisitely observed rumination on grappling with long-distance, pining for someone who’s a continent away, it gradually becomes clear that Hannah Read blames herself for putting the distance between her and the subject of her longing, and that the distance isn’t strictly literal. Skittering synths (or is that distorted flute?) complicate and enrich the texture of the song, allowing it to build organically and stunningly towards a heartbreaking plea to herself- “Hannah, do no harm.”

15. “FIRE”- WAXAHATCHEE

“And when I turn back around will you drain me back out? Will you let me believe that I broke through?”

When I’d drive back and forth between Dallas and Austin over and over again when I was in college, I’d often get off I-35 past Waco and take the back roads through towns I’d never heard of, the sun setting spectacularly behind the titular hills of Hill Country that were beginning to roll out in earnest. I think about that a lot when listening to “Fire,” a song dripping in rural Americana that was, unsurprisingly, inspired by a road trip. We’ve probably all been Katie Crutchfield as she crossed the bridge into West Memphis- alone in the car, awed by the simple beauty of the American countryside, making speeches to ourselves about our past mistakes and figuring out a way forward. 

14. “3AM”- HAIM

“On the screen and in my jeans, just make me feel good.”

On an album full of genre departures and decidedly darker themes than we’ve typically heard from Haim in their near decade of syncopated bubblegum pop rock, “3AM” stands out not only as their most effective stab at pastiche, slipping into the trappings of contemporary R&B with shocking ease and gusto, but also as their most unabashedly fun track in their entire oeuvre. “I think you can hear the amount of joy and laughs we had making this song” Alana Haim tells Apple Music, and you absolutely can.

13. “QADIR”- NICK HAKIM

“We’re sinking down a hole without thinking about our loved ones who might be shrinking...”

I often wonder if I’m putting enough effort into maintaining my relationships with friends I don’t see regularly, who live several time zones away, living their own lives while I live mine. When the thought of sustaining simple correspondence becomes overwhelming, it’s easy for months to go by before you realize you haven’t spoken to one of your closest friends. “QADIR” plays less like a eulogy for a friend gone too soon (though of course it is that) than a plea to the listener to put in the work. It’s worth it. You never know when it’ll be too late.

12. “LEVITATING”- DUA LIPA

“Glitter in the sky, glitter in our eyes shining just the way we are.”

Just a few bars of that delightfully bouncy, extra-terrestrial beat is enough to launch me into space. It’s so refreshing to hear a song that remembers that pop is supposed to be joyful and is best when it’s a bit silly. When discussing this track with Apple Music, Dua Lipa cites Austin Powers as inspiration, elaborating that “if I do a video for this, Mike Meyers has to be in it.” Can’t you just see them together, performing a farcical pas de deux of seduction like the spiritual successor to “Beautiful Stranger?”

11. “RIQUIQUI”- ARCA

“Love in the face of fear! Fear in the face of God!”

Arca’s made a career of harnessing chaos and somehow making sense of it. On an album that finds her embracing more traditional, accessible song structures, “Riquiqui” is a reminder that even when working within an AB structure, she’s still breaking rules left and right and having a blast doing it. She’s also never sounded so ferociously empowered in either her femininity or in her Venezuelan identity, rattling off local colloquialisms with affection and verve without a second thought as to who’s going to understand it. 

10. “FANTASY”- AGAINST ALL LOGIC

“I think about you all the time...”

Or, the musical embodiment of this gif:

When Nicolas Jaar’s tormented synths and crunching beats give way to Beyoncé’s unmistakable alto, it is indeed quite the shock. But should it be? Even if 2017-2019 finds him ditching the dancefloor in favor of more severe, unforgiving soundscapes, his already varied career has shown us nothing’s off limits to him. So why not reinvent Beyoncé’s iconic “Baby Boy” into an industrial, vaguely sinister certified bop that arguably surpasses the original?

9. “PEOPLE, I’VE BEEN SAD”- CHRISTINE AND THE QUEENS

“If you disappear, then I’m disappearing, too.”

“People, I’ve been sad” plays out with the vulnerability and intimacy of a tumblr text post you put out in the middle of the night, only to hastily delete later when it gets no notes. It forgoes flowery language in favor of just getting to the point. “I’ve been sad.” Héloïse Adelaïde Letissier blows up this deceptively simple sentiment with richly layered textures and a big screen gloss not to offer any remedies but instead to offer solidarity. We’re all in this hell together.

8. “DESCRIBE”- PERFUME GENIUS

“Can you just find him for me?”

Mike Hadreas has never sounded so hopeless. Utilizing harsh, rattling guitar that would make Kevin Shields swoon, he conveys the experience of being so estranged from happiness and joy that you need to rely on others to describe the sensation to you. But how, when exploring darker textures than he ever has before, does he make despondency sound so divine? 

7. “4 AMERICAN DOLLARS”- U.S. GIRLS

“No matter how much you get to have, you will still die and that’s the only thing.”

Meg Remy picks up where she left off on “4 American Dollars,” reviving the subversive pastiche she mastered on In a Poem Unlimited, this time harnessing the power of funk to dismantle the fallacies we’re taught about the virtues of capitalism. Heavy stuff, but Remy makes it less didactic than joyous, ensuring the listener will be singing “I don’t believe in pennies and nickels and dimes and dollars and pesos and pounds and rupees and yen and rubles” until they start to wonder if maybe they shouldn’t, either. 

6. “STUPID LOVE”- LADY GAGA

“I freak out, I freak out, I freak out, I freak out!”

Due to a healthy spirit of contrarianism mixed with a touch of internalized homophobia and genuine bafflement at her universal appeal and praise, I was a proud Lady Gaga hater for as long as she’d been a cultural entity. I just didn’t get her at all and loved that about myself. Annoying, I know. 2020 was the year I was finally ready to let that all go. Just before the world fell apart in March, I was out at Flaming Saddles (RIP) with friends the night this song came out and by the sixteenth time it played, I understood why it was inducing such hysteria. This was a cultural shift. After a frustrating near-decade of Gaga subverting expectations so thoroughly that she was actively working against her strengths and sabotaging her cultural ubiquity in the process, coupled with the most frightening era of political upheaval in our lifetimes, she was finally ready to save us and be Lady Gaga again. Booming synth, drag sensibilities, absurd thematic conceits- all was right in the world. For the first time in a long time, people had something to be hopeful about, and as I danced that night, I felt that hope, too. 

5. “SHELLFISH MADEMOISELLE”- RÓISÍN MURPHY

“How dare you sentence me to a lifetime without dancing?”

As soon as that bass starts (the funkiest bassline in the history of music?) it’s like Róisín Murphy’s snake charming oboe, coaxing even the most stalwart curmudgeon onto the dancefloor and keeping them there, dancing frantically and involuntarily like the citizens of Strasbourg in 1518, trying their best to keep up with Murphy who isn’t even breaking a sweat, commanding the masses with a sultry remove, beckoning you closer, pulling you inexorably deeper into the mass of gyrating bodies and whispering in your ear “come and have a dance with yer mum.”

4. “PARTY 4 U”- CHARLI XCX

“I only threw this party for you...”

As PC Music / Bubblegum Bass / whatever you want to call it enters its second decade, Charli XCX proves not only that there’s still new textures to explore within it, but also that no one can exploit its artifice to get down to emotional truths like she can. How can she make something this slick sound so vulnerable? “I only threw this party for you” she croons over and over again over glorious syncopated synths that build exquisitely, reaching their climax only to immediately fall away, until it’s just her and her trusty autotune, pleading with the subject of the song to just come to the damn party. But they won’t, of course. They never do, do they?

3. “WAP”- CARDI B, FT. MEGAN THEE STALLION

“I want you to touch that lil’ dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat!”

Sometimes you just immediately know you’re living through a significant cultural moment. No, not COVID. I’m talking about the experience of hearing Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion’s instant classic “WAP” for the first time, a titanic meeting of the minds that finds both of them at the apex of their cultural influence and at their most undeniable. Can the argument be made that these two aren’t the two best rappers in the game right now? How could you hear this inspiredly filthy sex positive juggernaut, where Cardi and Megan are trading the sickest verses of their careers, and not think these two deserve the world? 

2. “KEROSENE!”- YVES TUMOR

“I can be your baby in real life, sugar. I can live in your dreams.”

If the 2010′s were all about the pop-ification of all music, trading in live instrumentation in favor of polished synths, 2020 forcefully announced the return of the electric guitar when Yves Tumor and Diana Gordon’s back and forth lustfully submissive declarations of desire suddenly gave way to that nasty guitar rip lifted from Uriah Heep’s “Weep in Silence” to announce yet another cultural shift in a year chock full of them- rock and roll was, indeed, here to stay. 

1. “I WANT YOU TO LOVE ME”- FIONA APPLE

“I move with the trees in the breeze, I know that time is elastic.”

We live and we learn. Years spent soul searching and on self-discovery shape us into better, smarter people, progressively knowing and understanding ourselves and the world around us more and more clearly, but Fiona Apple knows that none of that can quell the ferocious desire to be loved by someone. By anyone. By you, whoever that is. We can know that time is elastic and that when we’re gone all our particles will disband and disperse and then we’ll be back in the pulse, and we can know that none of this stuff actually matters, but still- we want, we want, we want. 

[bookcoversalt]

Have you noticed the latest edition of Charlie Bowater can only draw one (1) face? She did The Princess Will Save You and Cast In Firelight both YA Fantasy set to be released this year. And they are how you say... the same fucking cover

Ah yes so you saw the same tweet I did

I know I literally just posted that we cannot outlaw book covers from looking like each other, but ! Oof!

The only thing that softens the blow here is that Charlie has improved at representing nonwhite features such that characters look like POC rather than tan white people, although,, that bar was low. Anybody remember the ACOTAR coloring book.

(Would you have guessed that 2/3 of these people are nonwhite? Or even that they’re supposed to be three different men? I guess all the men in Prythian have the same haircut?)

But that minor victory is mostly lost in the quagmires of the fact that Charlie’s style is to give everyone instagram face:

I wouldn’t even call this “Sameface” necessarily: that implies limitation, that an artist is only capable of drawing a single facial structure competently. Bowater is incredibly technically talented, she just chooses to give everyone catlike fae eyes and the cheekbones of a starving nymph. (My previous post on this here.)

But I don’t really blame her for that, or for these hilariously identical, nearly devoid of personality covers. Artists are allowed to do whatever they want. Artists who make art for covers are being art directed by designers and marketing teams who bear responsibility for how the finished pieces turn out.

No, this is our fault, as a community and an industry and..... society, kind of, for valuing character portraits that are “pretty” (“pretty” being an extremely loaded, culturally subjective concept) over art that actually Says Something About The Story. Bowater’s style happens to dovetail perfectly with what we currently collectively find pretty, and so we’ve put her art on a pedestal at the cost of everything else art can or should do for our stories.

And this is understandable: in contemporary western culture, pretty is a value unto itself. Seeing our characters portrayed as pretty denotes them as special, as smart, as powerful. It’s almost impossible to de-program ourselves from that reaction. There are approximately five kajillion studies on how beautiful people are at personal and professional advantages; how they’re perceived to be happier, healthier, more successful, and how those perceptions can translate into realities. (Nevermind how thinness and whiteness enter that equation, see above note about “pretty”.) I would love to see more “average” or weird- looking characters abound (and be accurately visually represented) in the YA/ Genre lit sphere, but for now... everyone is pretty.

Which sometimes means everyone is pretty boring.

But that’s just the specific, "What’s the deal with Bowater’s success in book circles and her style and all the sameiness” part of this equation. What if we backed up and asked: why character art at all? Beyond a question of “pretty”-ness (and general obvious Artistic Quality), why do we gravitate towards it, what's the purpose of it, how does it fall flat in a general sense, and how can it be utilized more effectively?

This is something I think about all the time. I follow writers on social media (because..... I am a writer on social media, regrettably), and we have an enormous collective boner for character art. “Getting fanart [of the characters]” is one of the achievement pinnacles constantly cited when people get or want to get published. Commissioning character art is something we reward ourselves with, or save up for (WHICH IS GOOD AND CORRECT. FREE ART IS GREAT BUT DO NOT SOLICIT IT. PAY YOUR ARTISTS). And like???? Same????? We love our stories because we’re invested in our characters. Most humans, even prose writers, are visual creatures to some extent, and no matter how happy we are with our text-based art, it’s exciting to see our creations exist in that form. So we turn that art into promo material and we advocate for it on our covers-- because it’s so meaningful to us! It goes with the story perfectly!! Look at my dumb beautiful children!!!!!

But on an emotional level, it’s hard to grasp that it only means something to us. Particularly when you take into account the aforementioned vast landscape of beautiful visual blandness of many characters (in the YA/ genre lit sphere, that’s pretty much all I’m ever talking about), character art can be like baby photos. If you know the baby, if that baby is your new niece or your friend’s kid, if you’ve held them and their parent texts you updates when they do cute shit, you’re probably excited to see that baby photo. But unless it’s exceptionally cute, a random stranger’s baby photo isn’t likely to invoke an emotional reaction other than “this is why I don’t get on facebook.”

Seeing art of characters they don’t know might intrigue a reader, but especially if the characters or art are unremarkable-looking, it’s doing a hell of a lot more for the people who already have an emotional attachment to that character than anybody else. And that’s fine. Art for a small, invested audience is incredibly rewarding. But like the parent who cannot see why you don’t think their baby is THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BABY IN THE WORLD???? I think we have trouble divesting our emotional reaction to character art from its actual marketing value, which.... is often pretty minimal. This is my hill to die on #143:

Character portraits, even beautiful ones, are meaningless as a marketing tool without additional context or imagery. 

I love character art! I’m not saying it should not exist or that it’s worthless! Even art that appeals to only the one single person who made it has value and the right to exist. And part of this conversation is how important for POC to see themselves on covers, whether illustrations or stock imagery, particularly in YA/kidlit. I’m not saying character portrait covers are “bad”. 

I am saying that I have seen dozens and dozens of sets of character art for characters who look interchangeable, and it has never driven me to preorder a book. (Also one character portrait for a high-profile 2019 debut that was clearly just a painting of Amanda Seyfriend. You know the one. There’s nothing wrong with faceclaims but lmfao, girl,,,,)

I’m sure that’s not true for everyone! I am incredibly picky about art. It’s my job. There’s nothing wrong with your card deck of cell-shaded boys of ambiguous age and ethnicity who all have the same button nose and smirk if it Sparks Joy for you.

But if your goal is not only to delight yourself, but to sell books, it’s in your best interest to remember that art, like writing, is a form of communication. The publishing industry runs on pitches: querys, blurbs, proposals, self-promo tweets. What if we applied that logic to our visuals? How can we utilize our character design and art to communicate as much about our stories as possible, in the most enticing way?

Social media has already driven the embrace of this concept in a very general sense. Authors are now supposed to have ~ aesthetics. “Picspams” or graphics, modular collages that function as mini moodboards, are commonplace. But the labor intensity and relative scarcity of character art visible in bookish circles, even on covers, means that application of marketing sensibility to it is less intuitive than throwing together a pinterest board.

Since we were talking about it earlier, WICKED SAINTS, as a case study of a recent “successful” fantasy YA debut, arguably owed a lot of its early social media momentum to fanart.

(Early fanart by @warickaart)

The most frequently drawn character, Malachiasz, has long hair, claws, and distinctive face tattoos. WS has a strong aesthetic in general, but those features clearly marked his fanart as him in a way even someone unfamiliar with the book could clearly track across different styles. Different interpretations of his tattoos from different artists even became a point of interest.

(Art by Jaria Rambaran, also super early days of WS Being A Thing)

Aside from distinctiveness, it's a clear visual representation of his history as a cult member, his monstrous powers, and the story’s dark, medieval tone. The above image is also a great example of character interaction, something missing from straightforward portraits, that communicates a dynamic. Character dynamics draw people into stories: enemies-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, childhood rivals, platonic life partners, love triangles, devoted siblings, exes who still carry the flame-- there’s a reason we codify these into tropes, and integrate that language and shared knowledge into our marketing. For another example in that vein, I really love this art by @MabyMin, commissioned by Gina Chen:

The wrist grip! The fancy outfits! These are two nobles who hate each other and want to bone and I am sold. 

In terms of true portraits, the best recent example I can think of is the set @NicoleDeal did for Roshani Chokshi’s GILDED WOLVES (I believe as a preorder incentive of some kind?): 

They showcase settings, props, and poses that all communicate the characters’ interests, skills, and personality, as well as the glamorous, elaborate aesthetic of the overall story. Even elements in the gold borders change, alluding to other plot points and symbology.

For painterly accuracy in character portraits on covers, I love SPIN THE DAWN. The heroine looks like a beautiful badass, yes, but the thoughtful, detailed rendering of every element, soft textures, and dynamic, fluid composition form a really cohesive, stunning illustration that presents an intriguing collection of story elements.

The devil isn’t always in the details, though: stark, moody, highly stylized or graphic art with an emphasis on textural contrast and bold color and shape rather than representational accuracy can communicate a lot (emotionally and tonally) while pretty much foregoing realism.

The new Lunar Chronicles covers are actually the best examples I found of this (Trying to stay within the realm of existing bookish art rather than branch into All Art Of Human Figures Forever):

Taking cues from styles more typical of the comics and video game industries.  (Games and comics, as visual mediums, are sources of incredible character art and I highly recommend following artists in those industries if you want to See More Cool Art On Your Timeline.)

TL;DR: Character art and design, as a marketing tool (even an incidental one) should be as unique to your story and your characters as possible, and tell us about the story in ways that make us want to read it. I tried to give examples because there are so many ways to do this, and so many different kinds of art, and I could give many more! But I’m bored now. So to circle all the way back:

These are not just bad because they look like each other, although that is embarrassing and illuminating. These are bad covers (although,,,,, PRINCESS is the far worse offender, at least FIRELIGHT suggests a thoughtful cultural analogue) because a desire for Pretty Character Art overrode the basic cover function to tell us about the story. We get no sense of who these people are, what their relationships are, what these books are about beyond the most general genre, or why we might care. The expressions are vague, the characters generic-looking, the compositions uninteresting and the colors failing to be indicative of anything in particular. 

They’re somebody else’s baby pictures.

(And yes, that’s the CRUEL PRINCE font on PRINCESS. I better not have to do a roundup post but it’s on thin fucking ice.)

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #22- If You Don’t Love Thunderclash, Get Better Soon I Guess

One last issue before we reach Comic Event Hell.

Time to use a dead man to set up the rest of the nonsense that’s got to happen, because apparently 14 issues of setup, including six issues of literal prelude, wasn’t enough.

The first bit of information we’re presented with is the fact that Chromedome and Swerve are on the opposite sides of the camera-shy scale. I guess that’s bound to happen when your spouse has had his video-cam literally connected to his brain for at least several thousand years.

The art may look really gritty and hardcore here, but this is actually due to a filter Rewind has over all his footage that he’s neglected to take off, because it made all the wartime propaganda he would stuff into people’s heads all the more brutal-looking.

No, this is the style of our artist for this issue, James Raiz, who we’ll be seeing a fair bit of over the next several issues. Raiz has worked on the Transformers franchise over the course of multiple license-holders, as well as contributed to both Marvel and DC comics. He also works in special effects, including matte painting and VFX. That’s just neat.

Anyway, the reason Swerve’s completely frozen in place isn’t because Rewind  switched out his head-mounted camera for a gun that goes off if it hears you make a self-deprecating joke, but rather because he’s conducting interviews with everyone in the main cast. We get all their introductions, Cyclonus makes a statement about his political stances, Drift sounds like he’s high as a kite, First Aid strikes a sassy pose while not being bitter in the slightest, and Ultra Magnus makes a move that would get him murdered on any given film set in the universe.

You do NOT use your bare fucking hand to clean a camera lens, mister. Go get a microfiber cloth and try the fuck again, you complete and utter duffel bag of a creature.

We get a quick cut of the speech Rodimus made back in issue #1, with an angle that implies that Rewind was in the front row of the front row, then cut over to Rodimus asking Rewind to document their Capital-Q Quest. This is where we establish that this film doesn’t only contain footage from Rewind’s personal camera, but also that of the Lost Light’s security system.

Which feels like the sort of access you maybe wouldn’t want to give some nosy little film buff, especially when you have a secret giant serial killing sadist living in your basement like a disappointing adult child.

See? He was given the job to record the adventures of the Lost Light not five minutes ago, and he’s already using his powers for evil. Eavesdropping evil. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, Rodimus, and you just handed it to the guy with a massive Dominus Ambus-shaped chip on his shoulder.

So Rewind’s got permission to film just about whatever he wants, and Rodimus figures it’ll be nonstop action from here to the finish line! Fights! Intrigue! Mild hijinks and peril! Explosions aplomb! Oh man, I can’t wait to see what kinds of crazy shit will happen on this absolute roller coaster of a Quest!

Smashcut to Swerve literally falling asleep in the middle of a conversation. Yeah, as it turns out, no quest, capital Q or not, is nonstop action. Which is good, honestly, because that kind of seems like it would be exhausting after the first week or so.

Swerve, Tailgate, and Rewind are discussing cool alt-modes, which seems like an odd topic, seeing as Tailgate and Swerve have basically the same situation going on there, leaving Rewind alone in the camp of “does not have wheels”.

I worry about you sometimes, Rewind. Internalized Functionism is a very real problem. Uh, well, in your universe anyway. Us humans have to deal with regular ol’ classism and racism.

Rung gets brought up, and it’s revealed that the wheel on his back is almost purely cosmetic; it doesn’t even actually attach to his body. The lads decide that they’ve got nothing better to do, and set up a gentlemen’s wager- first one to figure out Rung’s whole deal gets 100 space-dollars.

Throwing shit at people’s heads will be a major plot point in the climax of this comic series.

Swerve’s go at trying to win the bet involved tossing a grenade at Rung to hit him in the neural cluster, which is rumored to be able to force an involuntary mode change if done correctly. Obviously, it didn’t work this go around. Then our narrative focus switches over to the crew’s hobbies.

You were listening to Prince, weren’t you, Magnus? Not even deep space is safe from the Cease and Desist.

Skids’ hobby is meeting new people, because he suffers from the terrible curse of being so fucking good at everything he tries, he always ends up dropping whatever he picked up, because what’s the point? This acts as a segue into another flashback, to even MORE bullshit that the fellas got roped into on Hedonia.

These are the Stentarians. They’re like the Cybertronians, if they were better in every way.

And by “better”, I, of course, mean “more bloodthirsty, warmongering, and driven enough to make their civil war last about as long as the Jurassic Period”. Also, they’re all combiners by default, and Whirl seems a little TOO into their whole situation. So much so, in fact, that when the Imperial Guard of their race show up to kill them, he decides to do them a solid by single-handedly ending their entire war.

You know, in most cases you’re supposed to show and not tell for visual media. This is way funnier, though, so it can be excused.

We jump back into the interviews, and Rewind’s just asked everyone if they’re happy. This might seem like an odd question, until you remember that everyone on-board this ship has crippling depression and PTSD, and Rewind’s married to one of the saddest motherfuckers to ever exist, so he probably has this question loaded into the proverbial chamber at any given moment. We won’t cover all of the answers here, because they’ll be more poignant to reflect back on later in the comic run, but let’s take a gander at the characters who’ve completed the first leg of their character arcs this season.

Drift, is that perhaps… an honest expression of your inner thought processes happening right there? Has Rewind broken through your carefully crafted persona, if even for just a moment, with his question? Perish the thought!

Because Tailgate outed himself as being baby in issue #21, I have zero doubt he’s not exaggerating here. He was a janitor, then he fell in a hole and became Dirt-Nap Supreme for six million years; even the most boring day on the Lost Light’s got to be better than that.

And it’s nice to see Chromedome on a good day for once. Hopefully he reveled in it while he had the chance, because this interview takes place maybe a couple weeks before he fucks everything up big time and has to blow up his husband with a missile strike.

Getting back to the Mystery of the Rungian Alt-Mode plotline, we see Rung using his backpack as a wheelbarrow- no idea what he’s actually pushing in the damned thing- and wearing the most disgruntled face I’ve seen him pull in a hot minute. Someone yells for him to come down the eerily unlit and sinister-looking hallway, which he does. Rung would not do well in a horror film.

He winds up at Swerve’s, where Tailgate, Swerve, Brainstorm, and someone who is most likely Trailcutter, given the colors, are hanging out in their alt-modes. Tailgate’s ploy to find out Rung’s deal is to do what he does best- lie! They’re having an alt-mode party, and wouldn’t Rung like to join in? There are, of course, logistical issues with being a car in a bar, especially when your drink is on the table and your head is tucked up somewhere in your torso, but never mind all that! Let’s get crazy!

This doesn’t work either. Maybe we should cut out the middle man here and just get Rung drunk enough to agree to a wet alt-mode contest.

No, I don’t have any idea how that would work.

In our next vignette, Rodimus comes into the comms room, Rewind trailing behind him like a grim shadow of death, to see what the hell Blaster wants, other than just the hugest glass of water.

Raiz’s work is very detailed, and you really feel the weight of these giant metal space robots, but everyone looks like they’ve been put through a food dehydrator.

We get a lot of build up to the character who’s about to be introduced, with a common opinion being shared amongst everyone- even Tailgate, who hates successful people like his life depends on it.

Lovely readers, put your hands together for the ideal male partner for Autobots, Decepticons, and Neutrals alike:

A man with so much charisma and charm that only Rodimus could hate him, Thuderclash brings to IDW what everyone wishes Optimus Prime would, making our disappointing space dad even more mediocre by comparison. He fights for justice, and freedom, and the good of the universe- and he does it all while having a chronic medical condition that forces him to stay within a certain distance of his ship that is also a life-support machine, otherwise he will die. Despite his handicaps, Thunderclash seemingly brings to others what they need most, even if they don’t even realize that they needed it in the first place.

He also, in this one scene, appeals to Drift’s religious sensibilities, does a secret best-friend dance with Ratchet (who he helped to pass his medical exams- yes, Ratchet), and congratulates Rodimus on his questing so far.

Thunderclash is one of those characters that everyone in-universe is supposed to love, and I completely buy it- because he’s completely genuine and humble about all of this the entire time.

Compare this to the last time Roberts wrote Thunderclash, in Eugenesis.

Where he was an ex-Decepticon.

And kind of an abrasive asshole.

And then he died.

Y’know, now that I think of it, Eugenesis Thunderclash and MTMTE Ambulon being basically the same character makes a whole lot of sense, even without the horrors of Roberts’ Twitter getting involved.

Thunderclash reveals that he, too, is on a quest to find the Knights of Cybertron, much to Rodimus’ chagrin. But first he needs the Lost Light to break out the jumper cables, and then for his second in command to stop threatening his life.

Turns out, not everyone is as obvious as the Cybertronians with their naming conventions. Whirl assassinated the wrong folks; I’m sure the Galactic Council is utterly thrilled. Paddox wants to steal the quantum engine technology for the good of his people, so they can kick the ass of the up-and-coming Terradore leader.

Completely unaware of the situation unfolding here in the lab, Swerve is directing Rung towards the warm, loving aura of Thunderclash for another go at winning the gentlemen’s wager- through the power of lying about having friends, Swerve’s “agreed” to get Rung Thunderclash’s autograph, in exchange for getting to check that Rung’s transformation cog is still working. Then they bump into the nightmare currently unfolding. My, whoever will save us from this dreaded menace, who holds a gun to the head of the Autobots’ greatest warrior, confidant, friend, and perhaps even lover?

How about a bartender and a giant vape pen?

Okay, so Rung doesn’t actually turn into a vape. It turns out that the Mystery of the Rungian Alt-Mode is also a mystery to the man himself. Because Rung is old as shit, the Functionists got to see this bullshit for themselves, and ended up testing him over and over and over trying to figure it out, lest he prove to be a flaw in their fascist ideologies. Fun fact: fascists HATE it when people they’re trying to oppress don’t play to their expectations.

The Functionists were the ones who gave Rung his little wheelie backpack, to make him at least appear useful. This sort of treatment tends to warp one’s head a bit, which would explain why he’s bothered to keep it for so long- internalized functionism’s a real bitch.

At least he’s not giving teenagers nicotine addictions under the guise of being somewhat better than cigarettes.

Back with Rodimus and Cybertron’s Autobot of the Year for 40,000 consecutive years, we get the unfortunate news that jump-starting Thunderclash’s ship is going to make the Quest go a bit slower for the Lost Light, much to Rodimus’ horror, though he does his best to put on a brave face; after all, that’s what heroes do, isn’t it?

It’s at this point that it’s revealed that “Little Victories” was being screened to all the Circle of Light members who didn’t get murdered or turned into Legislators on Luna 1, and man are these guys pissy. What was meant to be a recruitment video turned out to do just the opposite, because none of these guys want anything to do with what the Lost Light’s got going on.

Too bad Rewind didn’t have time for a cleaner cut for showing. Maybe they could have at least snagged a couple of these guys to tag along.

As all of the Circle of Light leave the theatre to go call everyone’s favorite Autobot to see if he needs a more crew members, the film plays on behind Skids, back to the interviews, as everyone promises more adventures just waiting on the horizon.

You’re not even on this trip anymore, you dork.

Chromedome gives us the title drop for the movie and issue, and we cut to Rewind organizing a group photo of all the interviewees.

And then Rewind died horribly like a week later. Thus ends season one of More Than Meets the Eye!

While I’m here, I’d like to take the time to cover a little bit of cut content from this issue, a scene between Drift and Ratchet.

Drift, during his interview, recalls the time that Ratchet called him into his office for a very serious discussion about his/Pharma’s hands.

Yeah, turns out they’re haunted.

Well, no, not really, because this is a prank. But Drift doesn’t know that yet.

Ratchet demonstrates this hand-haunting by punching Drift in the face, as he screams damnation at Pharma’s ghost. Drift, because he is a spiritual man, knows exactly what to do to deal with this possession; he draws his sword and chops Ratchet’s hands off, then throws them out the airlock.

This, too, is a prank, not that Ratchet knows it right away, yelling at Drift that he’s crippled him.

Clearly, these two belong together.

This bit of cut script was lucky enough to have gotten drawn by the colorist for MTMTE Season 1, Josh Burcham. Burcham’s line art is iconic- you won’t mistake him for anyone else. It’s rough and angular, and honestly just very charming. I’m a sucker for this sort of style. If you want to see his adaptation of this chunk of script- and trust me, you do- the link’s right here:

https://dcjosh.tumblr.com/post/107665292031/its-done-the-mtmte-22-deleted-scene-in-all-its

[grimoire-of-geekery]

Dear Rune, I know that you are no longer teaching beginning witches, but do you have sources you could recommend for beginners? There are so MANY traditions and ways of doing things out there, some of which I'm sure I'm not even aware of yet, that I don't know where to begin. Thank you.

Well, I suppose that would depend on where you started in the first place, and where you’re at right now.  Every witch’s beginning is different, each foray into the Hedge comes with its own strengths and oddities.

Obviously where books are concerned, read everything, even if you dislike or disagree with what you’re reading.  I have a list of books I recommend to people, but not every book is necessary to every person, and I usually recommend based on what areas of focus they’re interested in, or what gaps they’ve got in their education.  I don’t really like the whole “learning witchcraft by reading the internet” thing, I’m too old for that I suppose.  I was around when that was just becoming a thing, and it never went very well.

Anyway, why don’t I simplify things, and just make a checklist for you, and you can write me and ask about specific areas from the checklist, and I’ll give recommendations based on that, eh?

We’ll call this Rune’s Witchcraft Starter Kit Checklist!

Do you have a familiar or patron, some sort of spiritual force which assists you in the learning of your practice?  Some religious traditions favor a focus on patrons (usually deities, and often on an in-house list), some traditions focus on servitors over familiars, and some traditions prefer human training over spirit-guided development.  If this doesn’t appeal to you, skip it, you’ll find your way with it how you need to.  If it does, you may wish to extend an invitation toward something.  My tradition accepts patrons and familiars as being of equal value and importance, so I teach from both schools of thought.

Do you have a handle on the Thirteen Powers?  Meaning, the twelve Artes all magicians can practice, which I’ve described here, about midway down the post.  Basically, competent witches can cast at least one kind of spell from each category.  Maybe not all witches can glamour themselves to look gorgeous or terrifying or turn themselves invisible, but most witches learn how to use glamoury for something.  Maybe circle casting is all you’re good at in the abjuration category, but you’re damn good at it!  Learning how to play to your strengths and mitigate your personal limitations is part of the growth of your profession and practice.  Remember, nobody can be good at everything, but it’s sensible to want to improve one’s abilities and develop new ones.

How are you with walking on the other side?  Believe it or not, this is a major part of most older witchcraft traditions.  Crossing the Hedge, parting veils for oracular work, flying to Sabbat, there are many different traditions associated with this.  It’s not always easy for witches to learn to “fly,” there are locks, and keys to those locks, buried in our experiences as part of the Mysteries of developing as a witch.  However, you can start by buying a book on the subject, and practicing what it suggests.

Do you have a daily practice?  A weekly one?  How about a monthly one or a yearly one?  Having rituals you do to stay in contact with and celebrate the various powers of your practice is a good way to connect you to greater Mysteries and learn what they have to offer.  Do something every day, and then do something once a week, and then once a month, and then let some things happen at other specific times of the year.  For myself, I have a daily dedication rite I use every day upon waking, then every week I write about my experiences and journal in my Book of Shadows.  Every month I do divination for myself, and I celebrate the seasonal rites of my tradition when they arrive.

Have you done any of the deeper rites of the Craft?  For example, rites aligned with older Mysteries like death, sex, particular deities or myth cycles, or perhaps an initiation rite associated with one of your favored tools?  Deepening one’s connections with the Mysteries is fundamental to growing one’s practice.  Rites of passage, mystery training, and initiations into deeper understanding are crucial.  One needn’t do them in a group, though one should thoroughly research the rites just in case, as one doesn’t want to brew up a “Draught of Shadow-Walking” on the fly only to find out that one was supposed to do seven years of poison resistance development in order to safely drink the thing.  Remember, witchcraft is dangerous to the practitioner, and it’s supposed to be, especially at the deeper levels.

Do you have a community connection you trust?  It’s lonely being a witch, and loneliness is one of the dangers we have to deal with regularly.  There’s a reason witches flock to social media so constantly, even as we mock or disparage the internet for its flaws.  We’re social creatures, and often we’re desperate to find our “tribe,” causing us to look in all the wrong places.  Being a witch doesn’t require other people, but witches are one of the few kinds of magicians who work well in groups, and our draw toward intimacy leads us toward wishing for a coven we can trust.  Even the witches who loudly defy the virtue of the “coven” ideal will often have a small group of people they talk to and trust, because it’s in our nature to come together and conspire and bond.  We’re still human after all.

I think that’s probably all I have for you right now.  Take a look at the list, and write me back if you want some specific guidance toward areas you’ve identified a need for.  I’ve made it as complete as I can thus far, and I’ll add more later if I think of it.  In fact, I think I’ll save this in the Grimoire tab, so I can work on it regularly.

[roc-thoughtblog]

Sense and Sensibility Readthrough Part 20

Chapter 23, Pages 119-126

Previously, poor Elinor... four years... poor Elinor... four years...

Having given it a little thought, it occured to me that the twist from last chapter worked extremely well for something that I would have expected to occur narratively anyway. And I have complete certainty that it's because the twist went completely overboard by a shocking, twisty margin. Four years!

That's definitely something I'm keeping very close in consideration. Noted, circled and underlined. Just because the basic element of your narrative twist may be heavily foreshadowed or just predictable, doesn't mean the whole part of it has to be. There can and probably should be more than one layer of twist to your twist.

In fact, isn't this a form of misdirection in itself? Put people at ease with something that could be interpreted as simple, then throw something else out from behind it. Wait, now I'm just describing the basic element of a twist... a general principle of playing with expectations... Hmm, anyway!

Readthrough below.

Chapter 23

HOWEVER SMALL Elinor's general dependence on Lucy's veracity might be, it was impossible for her on serious reflection to suspect it in the present case,

IN THE PRESENT CASE? WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN MS. AUSTEN? Is this just a general statement about her unwillingness to question anything right in this moment? Or is it also a foreboding statement that Lucy's word will not be trustworthy in the future? Ms. Austen are you deliberately toying with me? D:

Elinor embarks aboard a long train of thought. The facts as presently established are thus:

There is altogether too much evidence of Lucy's claims being truthful; ergo they are engaged and all evidence presented is true.

She wasn't alone in believing Edward held feelings for her. Her family (supportive) and his sister (unsupportive) both acknowledged the case, so it's not any personal delusion or her own, or positive bias on the part of her family.

Trying to reconcile those two premises, she can draw various possible solutions that might satisfy both:

Eddie has been deliberately playing with her heart. :(

Eddie has unintentionally and hopelessly succumbed to Elinor's affection. :?

Eddie's engagement with Lucy was going nowhere to begin with. :/

I'm personally gonna float a fourth possibility, that Edward forgot Lucy Steele existed until she returned to his life recently to get him to fulfill his engagement promise, and now he's in a pickle. Not going easy on him though, the only scenario in which he doesn’t bear a significant burden of responsibility in this mess is the one where, iunno, Lucy’s been blackmailing him the whole time or something.

The youthful infatuation of nineteen would naturally blind him to everything but her beauty and good nature; but the four succeeding years [...] must have opened his eyes to her defects

Oh, so is this why Mr. Palmer was introduced with the following (lemme dig it up) line?

His temper might perhaps be a little soured by finding, like many of others of his sex, that through some unaccountable bias towards beauty, he was the husband of a very silly woman - but she knew this kind of blunder was too common for any sensible man to be lastingly hurt by it.

When I was reading it I thought it was coming uncharacteristically close to laying a man's responsbility over his own emotions at the feet of his wife instead (even if Mr. Palmer was immediately following diagnosed with class angst instead). I suppose the real purpose of this line would be to prep the reader, so that the possibility of hasty engagements on Edward's part seem reasonably expected, and also to, well, suggest at the possible result of such a hasty, valueless engagement being followed through?

I know there’s a Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, is there a Sense and Sensibility and Alternate Timelines?

Well, either way, I'm given to conclude that the Palmer chapter really does a lot more to set up pacing and expectations than I give it credit for. Though I still don’t think I like these particular expectations very much.

Also, Elinor, as mature as you project yourself to be, you think these thoughts of foolhardy youth as though you're not also presently nineteen right now. :'D

Also geez, you're really picking on Lucy hard for her lack of education, which has so far been presented much more a lack of opportunity than anything else. I noticed while reading the Other Stories in Susan and Stories that many of the protagonists were definitely a little on the not-like-other-girls side of the spectrum. I always love when education is valued, but it does make me uncomfortable when I see it presented as though a virtue in itself, rather than the product of opportunity and environment.

I'm still holding out on general judgement of Lucy as I haven't really felt like I've been introduced to her outside of Elinor's lens. There's a sort of tell vs. show element to reliability of information in the narrative voice I've been sitting on; one where I've been told a lot about Lucy from Elinor's feelings and thoughts (that she's artful or selfish), but I haven't actually seen Lucy behave in any way I would interpret as more than some level of insensitive.

It's really hard for me to get a read on Lucy or Edward. Unlike with Willoughby or Brandon, their actions as depicted do not immediately align with evaluations of their character made by the Dashwood sisters. Lucy has been very little shown to have done anything to earn Elinor's harsher assessments of her character (except insensitivity). Edward, I don't even know what about him I can take at any sort of face value except that he's ambitionless.

As these considerations occured to her in painful succession, she wept for him, more than for herself.

Oh, Elinor... She's worried about how Edward must feel, that his family could possibly support his engagement to Lucy when she is in a worse position than Elinor in every regard.

Supported by the conviction of having done nothing to merit her present unhappiness,

Oh, Elinor... she's rationalised away her natural freedom to be unhappy for unhappiness' sake. And she puts the mask back on. No telling her family. She will take this burden on very alone indeed.

It'll have to be up to Marianne to save her, on the day that Marianne finally throws a fit over Edward's mysterious lack of flirting. Oh, and what about their little moment chapters back where they shared a joke over Willoughby? Oh it will hurt if they ever have a real confrontation... :(

and that Marianne was internally dwelling on the perfections of a man, of whose whole heart she felt thoroughly possessed,

oH NO! Well if you're going to say that! If Edward was four years engaged then what's Willoughby going to have been? Secretly married ten years?? I forgot Marianne is still pining hard. Wait what's even going to happen when Edward and Willoughby meet as promised?

"Hi, I'm not marrying a Dashwood sister." "Hi, it turns out I'm also not marrying a Dashwood sister." "What was the purpose of our meeting again?" "Breaking Dashwood hearts solidarity?"

What is even happening? Please come back Brandon, at least your secret daughter can't break hearts. Also because you can't break hearts in general because noone loves you. Wait, ouch. Sorry. Also because your daughter might become friends with Margaret!

Oh Elinor, she's also justifiably disinclined to tell her family anything anyway because she knows they'll make a gigantic deal out of it, and probably Say Things that she doesn't want to hear. I mean, almost certainly Eddie has done you dirty here Elinor, if at bare minimum through negligence in communication. He's gonna deserve some of that tongue lashing.

Well, now that Elinor has come to terms with her situation, she has new objectives. To talk to Lucy again, and in doing so:

Discover the true depth of Lucy's feelings for Edward

Estimate Edward's regard for herself by gauging Lucy's jealousy towards her (HA!)

Convince Lucy somehow that no, she was never interested in Edward, haha, what a funny joke, I am not hurt or in pain at all. Didn't have a minor breakdown in front of you yesterday, nope. Perfectly fine, no feelings here.

Ah yes, the "What doesn't kill me NEVER HAPPENED" approach. Maybe in a couple of years she might even manage to convince herself she had never loved Edward at all, or indeed, anyone ever?

Apparently for all of Sir Middleton's parties, it can be surprisingly hard to get one-on-one time. Yeah, I get that. It takes Elinor some time before she can speak to Lucy privately again: at a party Sir Middleton arranged but is not attending. Heh.

"Insipidity." That was a word I wanted for the past few days but could only remember "vapid." Also wow, the narrative is pulling no punches over how insipid, boring and generally valueless this gathering and it's conversations are. Elinor's usually polite about things but internally she has no patience anymore. She needs to talk to Lucy and everything about this party is very much Getting In The Way.

So some party shenanigans happen and Lady Middleton is very easily manipulated as usual through appeals to her motherhood, to provide space for Lucy and Elinor to talk. Lucy is trying so hard to finish a basket for little Annamaria before tomorrow you see, and Oh! It is so much work, surely Elinor needs to help her! Works like a charm, Lady Middleton lets them out of card games and leaves them right alone to chat at a worktable.

Marianne just up and ditches Lady Middleton for the piano haha, with all the grace and tact of... iunno, Marianne I guess. Zero subtlety. "I hate cards, piano time starts now." Narrative says she's lost in her own thoughts and emotions while playing, I choose to interpret that as "angrily and noisily."

But it provides the appropriate background noise cover for Elinor and Lucy to talk with some approximation of privacy, which seems to follow directly in the next chapter.

Well, this has been a chapter devoted to Elinor's processing of... last chapter. Considering the weight of some such revelations, yeah, there was a lot for Elinor to process.

I feel as though I could go on to make some observations on the differences between Elinor and Marianne's approaches to processing heartbreak, but, they're just so... comically and wholly contrastive I wouldn't know where to begin except in broad terms. Marianne lets it all out, expressing her internal turmoil to almost performative levels and with complete emotional conviction. Elinor suppresses everything she can't rationalise away, and she tries to rationalise away everything, up to and including her own personal right to be upset.

Also it seems unusual to have a chapter immediately succeed from the events of the previous chapter as the next one does, so I imagine the hits aren't slowing yet. No idea what else could come out right now though.

[omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts]

Idle Hands Are the Devil’s Tools

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar X Reader

Summary: You are a bartender at LUX, growing to be one of Lucifer’s closest friends in the human realm, attraction swelling in the both of you for the other. On one closing night at the club, Lucifer decides to bet a little wager with you when Detective Decker needs your help for a case and you want to decline. Exotic dancing, lingerie, seducing a crime lord, jealousy, lust, and chaos, the devil’s specialties, soon follow. 

A/N: okay so full disclosure I have not seen much, only like eight episodes into the first season but already I’m in love with a general idea of the so far storyline and characters so I hope you guys enjoy this little story because a lot of you requested it and I’m excited *maniacal, evil laughter* feedback is loved and appreciated as always! i wrote this filth in like one night so have fun with this and if yall want a continued part of just smut then fluff lemme knowwww anyway PLEASE ENJOY

Warnings: sexiness, dirty talk, alcohol, infuriating sexual tension, stripper reader, FLUFF, language, near death experience, JEALOUSY hehe, dom! Lucifer, FILTH I SWEAR, implied smut

You clean up the bar counter, wet rag covered in cleaning spray, eyes lifting and making direct contact with your boss, Lucifer. His head tilts to the side, curiously and expectantly, like he wants you to say something, as if telepathic conversation between you two should be second nature, always knowing what he’s thinking. 

“You’re really not going to do it?” he asks, alluringly soft voice with that British lilt in it that so many find attractive, maybe that’s why he chose it. Sex appeal.

“Do what?” you ask, evading his gaze the second it turns serious, turning around and wiping down random bottles, aligning them on the shelves.

“You know what, darling,” he sighs, a huff a laughter. “The case Detective wants your help on.”

You stiffen at the mention of Decker’s request, when she came just a few hours before, “She doesn’t need my help... anyone can do it.”

“Well, she chose you, no one else in a one hundred mile radius has an impressive skill set in both martial arts and stripping...” his lips curl when saying the last word, you scold him, narrowing your eyes. “I also wouldn’t mind seeing the latter. I’ve only ever seen you in your uniform,” he scrunches his nose, excitable. 

You look down at the sensible attire, a black tank top and dark washed jeans with holes where the knees are. You look back up at him and chew on your bottom lip, pondering that forever reoccurring question of if he’s just being his normal flirty self or if he truly sees you in another light. You only ever come up with the former as the answer. He’s all dark, black suits, raven, slicked back hair, and stormy eyes, all cut from jagged stone, onyx and obsidian. He’s untouchable. 

“Stripping put me through college when my parents refused to,” you explain, point blank and to the point. “I haven’t done it since, I quit when I made enough for tuition. It paid the bills and kept the lights on, but the men there... I won’t ever forget the way their eyes made me feel...” you gulp audibly when you remember those disgusting glances, how objectifying they were.

Of course it wasn’t every patron there, some were respectful. Some even got you a good lay, and others sometimes paid an entire month’s rent, but those late night visitors, they were the ones that led you to quit. 

“I don’t want to ever feel like that again,” you look at Lucifer and he knows you’re telling the truth, your glassy eyes and wavering stance. 

“Y/n...” he says sincerely, reaching across the bar to thread his fingers through yours. You freeze. 

“I can assure you at my club, I only let in the best people, they’re hand selected. If anyone makes you uncomfortable, they will be punished and out of the club as soon as you say the word. I wouldn’t be pushing this so much, dear, if it wasn’t so vital to the investigation and to get this crime lord and stop him from killing anyone else, you have to distract him long enough for the cops to get inside. We need you.” He needs you.

“Luci...” you whine slightly, breathing deeply when you catch his stare. “I-”

“Can you do this?” he asks, tongue dragging across the pillow of his bottom lip, twitching in the corners. “For me, beautiful?”

This is one of those moments that has you pondering the stance of your relationship. Because you can’t say no to those eyes. And he knows it.

“You’re terrible,” you sigh, giving up, squeezing his hand before letting go, slipping from his grasp. “But yes, fine, I’ll do it. Because you basically guilt tripped me into doing so.”

“You are only human,” he teases, wearing a cheeky smile when he swipes the liquor from your fingers and pours two glasses. “Don’t worry, love, you’re going to have a devil of a time...”

You take a long sip of your drink, pointing at him accusingly, “Stop it with the puns or I’m out.”

“I’ll also put a little wager on the endeavor, pet, and make it interesting,” he sits up straighter, the nickname he uses for you sending an ice cold chill down your spine. “If you make at least a grand tomorrow night, I’ll tell you what I desire.”

“I have always wondered...” you take another sip of the smooth drink, the burnt amber taste gliding down your throat with ease. “Can you really pin it down to just one thing?”

“For you I will,” he looks at you, genuine. “And if you don’t make that much, I get to ask you. I never have gotten the chance.”

“What’s stopping you from doing it until then?” 

He smirks, “Nothing, I suppose. This is much more fun, though, wouldn’t you say, kitten?”

“Okay, then. Deal,” you extend your hand to him and his eyes are alight, scarlet fervor.

He grins wickedly, shaking your hand, “This’ll be such fun.”

~~~~

Maze looks you over, feline eyes slit with her bottom lip caught between her teeth in deep concentration. You two are in the back of the club, music and bass pounding in the dance room while she studies your attire, your new work uniform while aiding in the case. You’re covered head to toe in a gaping fishnet body suit, a black strapless bra laying over atop your breasts and a pair of black lace panties to match with a pair of ebony, Louboutin stiletto heels, a weapon in themselves. She places a com in your ear so you can covertly communicate with Lucifer and Decker.

You feel out of your element, but also incredibly empowered, now that it goes by your rules, what you say goes. Maze put your hair in curls, minimal makeup with a dark lip, and she’s smiling, licking her lips deliciously.

“If Lucifer hadn’t already called dibs on you, mortal, I’d have you right here myself...” she traces a finger down your torso, stopping at your panty line, crimson lips cut from ruby.

“Dibs?” you ask, confused but also intrigued. “When did he do that?”

“If you really don’t know...” she looks at you. “Then you’re an idiot.”

“Bitch,” you scoff.

She smiles, leading you to where you’ll be dancing for the night, “Sure, but at least I’m not an idiot.” That’s clueless to my boss’s affections.

You huff in annoyance before stopping at the individual pole where you will be performing for the night, the club already packed with crowds of dancing, grinding bodies, sweat and musk. Lucifer catches your eyes from across the room, he’s stunned for a moment, like he’s stuck in a moment of shock and he can’t move. You’re breathtaking. 

He smiles, lifting a single eyebrow in question, calculating your next move. The crime lord Decker described to you sits on the couch adjacent to the poles and designated dancing areas, his greedy eyes already laying over you and you know you have him hooked. 

You look back at Lucifer and hook your leg on the steel pole, spinning around, positioned upside down when you flash the devil a wink. 

He’s taken aback by the gesture, eyes wide as saucers, chest rising and falling at the unknown twist in his gut. You slide back up, walking around the wooden square allotted for your dancing, letting the music seep into your bones, move your hips and sway your curvy body to the beat of the song, one you requested. You turn away from Lucifer and lock eyes with the crime lord, you wiggle your fingers in the smallest of waves, flirtatious when your lips move upward, all planned and perfected. The man is caught under your spell and caught completely off guard, perfect for a distraction. 

Your hand graces the pole once again when you twirl around, hand running through your hair when you dance to the rhythm of the playlist, eyes closed and letting your body do the talking that your lips can’t. Already both men and women have been throwing wads of dollar bills, in the hundreds now. 

Lucifer’s eyes fall over you more than once, but unlike everyone else’s, they hold adoration, admiration, he can’t look away. 

“You’re doing this on purpose...” he growls into his ear com, nursing a hard scotch on ice, eyes crinkled in the corners.

“Whatever do you mean, Luci...” you swing around once more, landing in the splits when you face him, laying down fully, face in your hands. His jaw drops.

He’s never wanted someone this badly. It’s like your touching him without actually doing so, your eyes doing all the work for you.

“You look ravishing.”

You belly laugh, throwing your head back when you look at him, smug, “In the way that I look intriguing or that you want to ravish me yourself?”

He sips his drink, fire licking his irises, flickering in flames, “Both.”

“Guys, focus,” Decker scolds in the mic, interrupting the staring contest, having you continue back to dancing, looking back at the crime lord. 

He waves you over, a stack of cash beside him that he pats, wanting a personal lap dance. Your skin crawls at the way his eyes trail over you, lingering in places he shouldn’t, but you know it’s for the case, so you can save people. You smile at him, forced, walking down the platform and over to him. 

“He want’s a lap dance, Decker,” you whisper, the loud music enough to mask your talking. “What do I do?”

“That’s not apart of the plan, Detective,” Lucifer bites, voice dripping with venom, eyes aflame. 

Decker mulls it over, “It’s... actually perfect. Do it, y/n, you’re not in any danger and-” 

“She could get hurt, we didn’t plan for this,” Lucifer says, another foreign feeling in his chest where his heart should be, clutching the absence and his jaw clenches. “W-what if she’s uncomfortable?” 

“She can do it, because if she does, we have more than enough time for the cops to swarm in and take this guy down, ten minutes tops.”

“I can do it, Luci,” you promise. “He’s only human, right?” you say, voice unsteady when you see the gun in his pocket, burly bodyguards on either side of him. 

Lucifer’s chest clenches and he’s forced to watch you straddle the man’s lap, smiling openly at the murderer, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. This hurts more than the injuries, when the Detective shot him, this doesn’t even compare. It resonates through his whole being, he’s rooted to the ground and the fear in your eyes when you throw a look at him kills him further. 

“The cops are close,” Decker tells you. “Just a little bit longer and we’ve got him.”

The man beneath you suddenly frowns, “What’s that voice? Do you have a com in? Are you a cop?” He shoots up, pushing you off, you barely catch yourself when you stand. 

“Shit!” Decker curses, footsteps immediately following when she runs down the main staircase, gun aimed at the criminal’s head, a sure shot from there. “Alright, LAPD, hands up, asshole!”

The club goes into a frenzy, crowds running out the doors when they hear her yell, giving the perpetrators an easy exit. And in the heat of the moment, the crime boss grabs you, arm around your neck and restricting your airway with a gun pressed against your temple, the cool steel on your skull. Your eyes sting with tears, a damned lump forming in your throat you can’t bear swallow, and Lucifer sees you across the club. 

His eyes light up, and he realizes he was wrong earlier, this pain was worse, so much worse. It takes him over and makes him vulnerable beyond repair when he runs over to you but the criminal is two steps ahead, moving with you to the exit, pressing the gun into you further. 

“One more step and I’ll shoot!” he tightens his grip around your neck and an empty tear slips past, but you dare not make a noise. “Don’t test me!” He clicks off the safety and you flinch.

You mouth a soft, It’s okay, to Lucifer, watching his face fall, true sorrow in his features.

“You picked the wrong woman to hold at gunpoint,” his chest heaves, but he’s calm and collected, eerie and still like a lake at midnight, the only reflection of light being the moon. “Let her go.”

“Step back or I’ll kill her-”

Lucifer flashes his real face, scarlet and devilish, monstrous and the man drops his gun in a fit of fear and confusion, eyes wide. You knock your head back and headbutt his nose, enough so to knock him out, dropping to the ground unconscious. 

You breathe heavy and the tears finally fall. A single, broken sob escapes, you cross over to him and wrap your arms around his neck, crying into his chest, staining his signature purple button down shirt. His arms, once stiff at his sides, encircle around your waist and tug you to him, no space between you both except the fabric of his clothes and lace of your ensemble. And there’s no words needed. His hands rest on the small of your back, and for once they have no intention of ever wandering.

~~~~

You step into the shower, closing the blue tinted, glass door behind you. The hot water slides down your skin, close to scalding, cleaning off the day you’ve had, especially that man’s hands, gripping your waist. Hands on your hips. You close your eyes and tilt your head up, water rushing down your face, waves lapping at skin, kissing your cheeks with warmth.

You step out of the shower after washing your hair, wrapping a towel around yourself when you walk out of the bathroom, water droplets running down your hair and face, coating the tips of your lashes and your pink lips. Lucifer, leaning over the bar and nursing a drink, turns when he hears your wet footsteps advance into the main, sitting room, dark eyes trailing over your figure. 

He’s been acting off ever since the incident at LUX, driving you over to his apartment, letting you use his shower, laying out a fresh outfit for you, and offering you a guest bed to sleep in for the night. He thinks it’s his fault, all this, being held at gunpoint and almost being shot, this entire mess in the first place. Guilt is aching in his chest and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

And he’s barely talking.

“Lucifer?” you ask, meek and quiet, afraid you’ve already overstepped too many boundaries just being here. You know it’s a bad idea.

“Yes, darling?” he answers just as softly, still not quite looking at you, just staring straight ahead at his cabinet of drinks, ice clinking in his crystal glass of scotch.

“I’m sorry.”

He turns his head in your direction, close to snapping, “Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I got sloppy and it almost cost us the investigation... he overheard my com-”

“You’re apologizing... because Detective spoke too loudly and he heard? You’re apologizing for almost getting killed?” he turns fully to face you, setting his scotch calmly on the bar counter. 

“Don’t blame her.”

“I don’t. I blame myself for roping you in and getting you involved...” he groans, frustrated, walking slowly towards you. 

You frown deeply, confused at his sudden change of heart, regret in his features, the wrinkles in his brow when he furrows it, “Even so we still got him in custody, there’s no harm done, Luci-”

“There could have been!” he yells, eyes rimmed with scarlet. “You could have died, y/n! I could have lost you and it would have been my fault...” his voice wavers, and you gulp, realizing what’s going on. 

He was scared.

“Lucifer...” you whispering, cooing softly, a melodic lullaby put into his name. 

You step on the tips of your toes to cup the side of his face, rubbing your thumb over the stubble on his cheek. He’s trapped.

He’s never experienced tenderness like this before, such love and care in one’s touch, all for him. He doesn’t deserve it, but he’s softening, melting into your palm and he’s a puddle at your feet, eyes locked with yours and he’s thrown away the key. He presses his lips to the inside of your palm, sending electricity through your veins, sparks on your fingertips that shock his skin.

“Stop.”

He pinches his brow, confused, “What?”

“Stop,” you tell him, lips kicking up in a small smile. “Stop blaming yourself, I was sloppy, I admit it, Decker was loud... but I agreed to it, that’s on me. I knew the consequences and I knew what would happen if things went sideways, but he’s behind bars, and I’m not dead. I’d call this a win.”

His jaw tightens, “He put his hands on you.”

“He did...” you agree. “But I’m a big girl,” you laugh, both hands on his face now and he lets you, leaning into your touch like a moth to a light, succumbing to its own undoing. “I handled it.” And something comes over him. 

“I should handle him...” he pushes you against the wall, you inhale sharply when you hit the cool material, gripping the front of your towel. 

His eyes fall over your face, “For touching what’s mine.”

You open your mouth to speak, say something, anything, but you don’t object, you can’t. It happens so fast, both your wrists in one of his hands pinned above your head, pressing you further into the wall. 

And he kisses you. 

Your eyes flutter close and he groans into your mouth, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, tongue soothing you when it licks your own. Like coal igniting fire, aiding its own demise. His other hand runs down your neck, ripping off the towel that covers you until you’re bare before him, dripping in more ways than one. He finally lets go of your wrists and you wrap your arms around his neck, his arms looping around your waist and it’s clashing teeth, tongue, and lips, a frenzy of hands and it’s not enough. Not enough. He drinks you in with a hunger that can never be sated, your fingers carding through his ebony hair and tugging, harsh and vindictive. He growls, the devil but still a man, and you make him painfully so. 

He picks you up, hands under your thighs when your legs wrap around his torso, soaking his clothes but he doesn’t give a shit, never breaking your kiss when he carries you over to the bed, tossing you on the mattress. He looks you over, hungry and vicious, lips exploring the maps of skin before him, biting and licking all the curves, dips, and sweet spots, finding what makes you tick. 

Kissing down your stomach, eyes still holding onto yours, “Tell me, my love... what do you desire?”

“Y-you,” you say, voice shaky and unsteady, gulping down the lump in your throat that makes it hard to breathe. 

He smirks, malicious, crawling back up your body and he sucks on your neck, marking your skin with love bites, littered with remnants of him. 

“You won the bet, didn’t you, darling?” he kisses the curve of your jaw, licking the lines of your throat, and all oxygen leaves you. “I suppose I have to tell you what I desire, then, don’t I?”

“A deal is a deal,” you smile, equally as excited as you are scared for the answer.

“You,” he scatters his lips across your chest, kissing your breasts. “To ravish you like the goddess you are... to love you wholeheartedly and truly.” 

He wraps his lips around your right nipple, swirling his tongue expertly, biting and sucking. His fingers pinch the other, rolling it between his index and thumb, so damn good it’s scary.

You never thought you’d hear him say the L word, and to you, a mortal, no less. You never thought you’d love him too.

“Luci... you’re still wearing clothes,” your fingers fumble for his shirt, tugging it so hard that the buttons pop off, falling off of him. “That’s hardly fair.”

He grins wolfishly when he resurfaces, “Eager, aren’t we, kitten? If you wanted it rough, all you had to do was ask...”

[weirdlandtv]

Because there is no option to appeal some of my incorrectly flagged posts, and because Tumblr needs to be reminded of their idiotic policy now and then, I’m writing this post.

I have yet to come across one sensible explanation of how the censoring of female breasts, and the exclusion of sexuality, could lead to a “better, more positive” Tumblr. I can’t see the causality at all. The implication that the depiction of sexuality (nudity, sexual activity) is negative and harmful, logically leads to the question: To whom? And how? Tumblr’s hastily drawn up, poorly worded guidelines from December 2018 lump sexuality, or specifically “female-presenting nipples” in with say drug and alcohol abuse, (gun) violence, gambling, hate speech, antisemitism, and racism as something dangerous—the difference however is, of these, only “female-presenting nipples” are actively sought out by Tumblr bots and censored.

I really would just like to have someone at Tumblr explain to me, in terms I can understand, how this censorship of “female-presenting nipples” is leading to a “better, more positive” Tumblr. We’re roughly six months further now, some change should be visible apart from a decrease in traffic. And also, I’d like to know if the people at Tumblr genuinely believe in this censorship. Because who in their right mind can defend these almost surrealistically pointless guidelines, which seem cooked up by an ethical scatterbrain: Tumblr now is a 17+ app without 18+ content.

It’s a step backwards, is what it is. The thing though about taking a step backwards is that before you know it, you start walking backwards and you end up in a backward place.

Of course, we could say that Verizon really is the culprit. And that they bought Tumblr because that is simply what such companies do, buying up platforms left and right just so they can sell more crap to you and secretly keep an eye on your browsing history so they can sell THAT crap to advertizers, but that Verizon didn’t realize that with Tumblr, they weren’t just buying another platform but a community with lively, diverse, blossoming subcultures, and that Verizon only really learned what Tumblr was when the new draconian guidelines were announced and everyone started protesting, and that Verizon then wanted to get rid of Tumblr as fast as possible and are now trying hard to sell it, which hopefully they will, because such companies sure as hell shouldn’t go anywhere near art—we could say all that, but we’ll let others say it.

In the fishing industry, there’s something called “bycatch”, where certain marine species are caught unintentionally during the catch of specific targets. Every year, thousands of protected and endangered species are killed because of this process. I understand Tumblr implemented its ban because child pornography had been found on its site—fine, but what it’s doing now, by censoring “female-presenting nipples”, is making bycatch a legitimate, indiscriminate part of it its main target. (Also, anything even remotely associated with sex or even erotica is hidden from searches—try to find my post on adult film logos.) If other social media platforms follow, the Internet will become one big trawl net, leaving a sterile, homogeneous lunar landscape in its wake that’s designed for everybody and enjoyed by nobody. This is all especially harmful to the people who already belong to marginalized, sidelined groups anyway, and who so need social platforms like Tumblr pre-December 2018 to be taken seriously, or heck, even acknowledged at all. They found each other here on Tumblr when they were regarded as weirdos, outcasts, freaks; they expressed themselves through art and writing, and formed communities; and then they became people with voices.

Tumblr’s new policy itself is condemnable, the way it’s being implemented is risible. We’ve all seen the random posts that its ridiculously zealous and misguided bots flag as adult content; the following examples though, all part of my archive, seem to have been flagged by staff and can’t even be appealed, even though similar posts have been OK’ed by other Tumblr employees. Let’s have a look:

Image 4, right? Breasts. The caption though says “Mutterglück”. That’s German for “The Joy of Motherhood”. This should give you a clue about what’s being depicted. BREASTFEEDING. Tumblr however doesn’t want you to see this vile and depraved act.

Two paintings by Richard Tennant Cooper. Well, you’re going to have to find a better way to depict breast cancer, Richard Tennant Cooper, you pervert, because Tumblr isn’t having this. Flagged, and back to art school. Those artist types, eh.

Or this one, French illustrator, Jacques Touchet (1887-1949):

And how about the post below about John Wilson, an excellent animator and artist; he did those opening titles for GREASE, for example, and designs for SHINBONE ALLEY that I shared not too long ago. Spot the offending image:

Number 8 of course, which is a still from a music video from the SONNY & CHER SHOW, aired in the 1970s. That’s more than 40 years ago, but in 2019, those two ink dots on the female character have to be censored, hidden from view, because you know how those 1970s kids turned out. Over-sexed, sick degenerates, all of them.

Et cetera, et cetera. Whatever Tumblr is trying to do, this is the reality of their new guidelines. Also, whenever you receive an email about a flagged post, the link to it never leads to the post within the timeline even though it’s supposed to (on mobile devices anyway): it leads to the Review Flagged Posts section, which never gets updated and is only partly complete.

By making sexuality taboo again, Tumblr feeds the fear of it, which leads to ignorance about it, which leads to misconceptions about it: and misconceptions about sexuality are toxic goods. Remember that censorship, and censorship only, creates pornography... (Also, the liberalization of pornography, some studies argue, could lead to reduced rape and sexual violence rates. Something to think about.)

So again I ask: what for? How is flagging these posts leading to a better, more positive Tumblr? I’d like someone with a degree in such things to tell me that.

[yegarts]

Meet Your Makers: Jason Blower

Presented by TIX on the Square

Few things are more powerful than our stories. They’re how we make sense of the world and our place in it. This week, we profile an artist who does just that — connects people to their memories through visual art. His name is Jason Blower, and you’ve likely admired his work or visited his online home, Snow Alligator — a whimsical collection of art and décor that takes its cues from Jason’s own story: a childhood of imaginative play, a spirit of positivity, and the desire to create communities from memories. Meet this week’s maker, Jason Blower.

TIX: Architecture, skylines, and the history behind city landmarks are strong themes in your work. Why do those narratives speak to you?

J.B: My Father has a grand knowledge of the history of the city, and as a kid I was often quizzed on names of places or told tales of what happened or used to be there. As I got older and talked to friends, I realized how many people know the history of places around the world, but barely grasp the history of our city—which is important. How are we to understand ourselves and the culture of the city if we don’t know or understand the choices of our past. I focus on so much of that to highlight that idea and for us to reflect on our own memories and choices of living in this city.

TIX: There’s also a lot of joy and humour in your work. Why are they important to you and your storytelling?

J.B: I suppose it’s because of my rose-coloured-glasses look at life. I tend to look at the positives and see life as an adventure. Frame of mind is so important in the pursuit of life because the “world” is an unforgiving place—it’s hard and there are setbacks, but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t also beautiful and full of fun, too.

TIX: You’ve described your work as having a warm, mid-century modern aesthetic. What about that style suits your artistic strengths and sensibilities?

J.B: I think that the eras that grew out of the end of the Second World War were such a time of re-vigour—the change in the status quo and the feeling of optimism that came from the abundance that post-war offered. This was reflected in the artwork, design, and cartoons of the time. The simplicity of the style is appealing and easy to understand. Mixing the optimism and simplicity of the aesthetic, I think, brings back nostalgic feelings of youth. And most of us miss the days of our more carefree youth.

TIX: Tell us how your storybooks and comics evolved. Had you always wanted to combine writing with illustrating?

J.B: Oh, yes! Imaginative play was the foundation of my childhood. Action figures, running around in the ravines roleplaying, and reading comics were what nurtured me growing up. That sort of play evolved into games of “what if” and just built upon themselves until you were only making up your own stuff and no longer just copying things that you had already seen. For a long time, my artwork has been just glimpses into the stories that are in my head, or they have

been the explorations of figuring out the right stories. The storybooks and comics have just naturally evolved from single images, to a series of images, to a thread of images that are telling fuller stories.

TIX: In one of your blog posts, you talk about how the art on people’s walls says a lot about them. What does the art in your home say about you?

J.B: Oh, this is clever! I don’t have any of my own work up on the walls. I think that’s because I see them in my head all the time, so to have them on the walls would be redundant. Seventy percent of the art on my walls is that of my fellow art school friends, things we did in the final years of school. It takes me back to those days when we were learning and trying out so many new things. The other 20% is of artists I really admire. Their work is my own north star and reminds me of the path that I am on and the destination that path will take me. I suppose that’s true of all people—they have things up that say who they are or have been and want to be. The last 10% is of travel artifacts, visual journals that tell the adventures of where I have been.

TIX: In addition to buying artwork, how can people support artists and the art community?

J.B: Oh, by far, being an advocate is the most supportive way that people can support the arts community. The arts is what makes us human, without it we would be living in total utility. Living to just live is not much of a life. So to share the things that make you happy, what they mean to you, and demonstrate a life worth living is the best way for other people to see and appreciate the same things in life that you value.

TIX: What are you currently working on?

J.B: Currently I am working on completing a series of 12 Alberta landscape paintings, writing and development of a handful of storybook and graphic novel ideas, and a rotating list of commercial client projects.

Want more? Visit snowalligator.com and tixonthesquare.ca for the latest from Jason and other great artists.

Artist Bio

Jason Blower, a freelance painter, illustrator, and lover of all things whimsical and 80s, creates work inspired by the minimalism of the mid-century movement and naivety of folk art. His online home and brand, Snow Alligator, showcases whimsical and nostalgic illustrations and products that tell regional stories and spark fond memories of place and childhood through visual art.