#but I can function pretty much fine without Andy
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Tbh the longer I’m in this system the more normal I get
#ashley posting#suprisingly#you’d think I’d get less normal#but I can function pretty much fine without Andy#I went from AAAA#a#AAAAAAAA#to chilling
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Hi! Can I request a playlist for my OC, Finley Morgan?
Finley is an inventor/alchemist trying to clear her family name due to her father's horrid actions years ago. She struggles with her own mental state while also having to deal with her father's dark shadow looming over her. Deep down Finley strives to be the greatest inventor who ever lived, she wants her legacy to completely erase her father's.
Finley is detail-oriented, analytical, accommodating, and will cautiously plan her way through life. She is driven to answer the question, "why" before acting.
She prefers being alone most of the time and is not socially active. She prefers to be with family or the two close friends that she has. When forced into social events she tends to leave as soon as possible. She tends to slip away, unnoticed. In order to function well, she needs information and time alone to think.
Finley has ADHD and dyspraxia.
Finley is slightly nearsighted and has glasses, though she tends to forget to wear them. Sometimes "losing" them on her own head.
If you wrong her, the only way to get back on her good side is by making restitution. It's also how she apologizes.
She shows love by giving well-thought-out gift baskets or spending quality time with you.
She's not the biggest fan of being touched. It takes her getting comfortable enough with you to be fine with anything more than a handshake.
Finley is prone to many interests and is a jack-of-all-trades. She also tends to hyper-fixate on her interests until she loses motivation and finds a new interest.
She has a very idiosyncratic point of view on everything. Because she's able to see information and patterns other people would miss, this causes her to be able to, to some extent, predict the future.
Finley is not the most trusting person in the world but she is fiercely loyal once you do earn her trust.
She has hidden dimensions that are as intense as they are fascinating. Sometimes she comes across as arrogant, cynical, and cryptic. Though this seems to only happen when she's afraid.
She can brood over injustices, is prone to entertaining conspiracy theories and connecting the dots that are unnoticed by others.
Finley is moderately paranoid at the best of times. She can be vindictive and petty. Enacting sneaky vengeance on those who wronged her or those she cares about.
She has very low self-esteem.
Finley is interested in learning and exploring new ideas. She's always working on something that she thinks will be the next big discovery or invention. Though she rarely finishes them.
Finley will blurt out facts but they come across as her being rude, which is not her intention.
She likes learning but schoolwork was always a low priority for her.
Due to her being raised by an entire family of narcissists, whenever she tried to speak they'd interrupt her or complain about her talking too much or too loudly. So she's usually pretty silent unless you can get her started on something she's passionate about.
Finley will break apart every solid food she eats and eat the pieces from smallest to biggest.
She lacks attention, which causes anything she writes down to have spelling, punctuation, or grammatical errors.
She frequently gets lost in daydreams.
If she lacks genuine interest, she struggles with following instructions and completing assignments.
Organization and self-care are also difficult for her. Along with other daily activities.
If she gets hyperfocused on something, she'll go the entire day without remembering to eat.
But if she doesn't keep her hands busy she'll constantly be eating just to have something for her hands to do.
She's embarrassed by how poor her handwriting is, despite how much she's practiced at making it more legible.
She does not like a lot of noise, especially loud noise. She can only enjoy fireworks if she's far enough away that the sounds are minimal but she can still enjoy the view.
She cannot tolerate the feeling of water on her forearms/elbows. Or have wet clothing on.
She's very clumsy, frequently tripping over her own furniture no longer how long it's been in that particular spot. She will always have at least one bruise on her body and it's unlikely she can tell you how she got it.
Most of the time when Finley speaks, her words get muddled up. She especially struggles with words that have R in the middle of them.
She likes Scandinavian-style interior design. Her favorite colors are dark green and black.
Words that would fit her aesthetic are haunting, natural, quiet.
Please and thank you xx
Because of the Shame - Against Me!
Downpour - Brandi Carlile
The Sky Is A Neighborhood - Foo Fighters
Lemon Eyes - Meg Myers
My Sun - Amorphis
Telescope - Cage the Elephant
Jinny Bingham’s Ghost - Frank Turner
Younger Years - The Milk Carton Kids
Soft Skeletons - Anberlin
The War Years - City & Colour
That’s All - Genesis
Live Learn And Forget - Nada Surf
Fire In My Mind - Andy Black
Here Is the House - Depeche Mode
Trip the Light Fantastic - Greta Van Fleet
Pool - Paramore
Darkside - Blink 182
New Ceremony - Dry the River
What Did I Ever Give You? - Kaiser Chiefs
Footsteps - Pearl Jam
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I reblogged something earlier this morning about how even when queer men are present on film, movies tend to find a way to soft-shoe their queerness, to give audiences a kind of escape hatch, something to focus on that isn’t their relationships with men.
And it’s something I think about a lot, because when you focus on “identity,” then -- it’s not that hard, anymore, to find Representation in popular culture. Because identity is fairly comfortable for straight people; most straight people now know an out person or five; most straight people have internalized the message that some people Just Are That Way and it’s okay to let them exist -- even that it’s pretty awful to shame and torment them for Being Who They Are. Like, even fucking Disney keeps trolling us with “First Gay Character In the Blah-De-Blah!” which is inevitably bullshit, but they do it because they know it’s a nice thing to say, that (straight) people will nod and smile and think, yes, there should be some gay people somewhere, for Representation! The numbers could stand improvement, but they are actually pretty good for things like “do you think gay people should exist and be in movies?”
Something else happens when you try to foreground not a character’s identity, but their relationships. Because an identity-based representation mindset is inherently distancing, you know? If you are a straight viewer -- and remember that straight viewers are The Audience for all mainstream media; the basic function of numbers and economics demands it! -- a character that’s presented to you as a gay character is easy to kind of process and digest. You know gay people; this person is, in at least some way, like your cousin or your friend or whatever. There’s a box in your head that makes this character comprehensible and acceptable, which didn’t use to be the case! So that’s great!
But what we’re interested in and attracted to in fiction isn’t the identity of the characters, it’s the stories. Anyone will be relatable to us -- the weirdest or worst or most alien people in the universe will be relatable to us! -- if we’re taken through a story that requires us to identify what their emotions are, what they want, and what it’s going to cost them to get it. That’s how people process a story. There’s a joke I’ve heard a lot about how bulletproof a Romeo & Juliet story is -- that you can write about a young dinosaur who loves a robot, and as long as Society objects to their union, you’ll have the audience in tears by the midpoint, going I just think that dinosaur and robot should have a chance! In fiction, people don’t identify with the identity of the characters, they identify with story beats. They identify with emotions.
And that’s what we’re really still afraid of, right? The Straight Audience is comfortable with the existence of people who live in the gay box, comfortable with being friendly toward them and supportive of them -- but once the story hinges on identifying with emotions of attraction and desire, well, The Straight Audience is now being put in the position of either following along with the story and allowing themselves to identify with those emotions, or noping out of the story altogether, of distancing from it or outright rejecting it. And for a lot of straight people, it’s a very, very different experience to watch a character you know is gay, versus to experience the story from the perspective of a character who wants to fuck that dude. And that’s how you get stories like The Imitation Game and Bohemian Rhapsody and DaVinci’s Demons (apparently; I haven’t seen that last one) -- where it’s allowable to say that the character has a queer identity, but not allowable to make the story about what it feels like to desire men.
And I get the bind that creators are in. The Straight Audience is your audience; it just is, at least when it comes time to find someone to pony up and pay for your film. if you try to sell a story where the emotional beats of the story demand that The Straight Audience surrenders those distancing boxes and invests in genuinely wanting your mlm character to achieve getting a man as the story goal -- you’re running the extremely real risk that your audience is just not going to stay with you through that. At best, it’s going to feel like a story that’s not for them so they never see it at all. At worst, they’re going to feel manipulated and pressured to vicariously experience an emotional reality that they have something invested in not experiencing. At worst, their ability to relate to a story of love or desire between two men is going to challenge their notion of what is and isn’t part of them, and people do not take kindly to that.
So everything kind of gets split off into Queer Films that just assume from the jump that the straights are not going to watch it so who cares, and Mainstream Films that require the drive-shaft of the story to be something else, something it’s safe for the audience to relate to. Which isn’t always bad! Like, I think The Old Guard is a great example of that being done well: Joe and Nicky exist, are mlm, are solid and likeable characters, and don’t really demand a lot from the viewer, other than not to be a total douchebag and object to their existence. People can clear that bar. And I do not have any issue with that! It’s fine, I have no notes.
But Joe and Nicky are not, from a story perspective, the protagonists of the film. You can make a solid argument for either Nile or Andy as the primary protagonist, since they both have story arcs that drive the action, and Booker is a really great antagonist. Joe and Nicky are around for the story, but it’s not their story. What works for them doesn’t work when constructing a mlm protagonist.
It seems to me like the cutting edge of moving the conversation from “is there a queer man in it?” to “are we telling a story where the audience can’t avoid this man’s queerness?” is in television, because of the nature of ensemble shows. If you’re making a Roswell New Mexico or a Shadowhunters or a The Magicians, you have this space to operate in, because if The Straight Audience is unable or unwilling to participate in this story, they can kind of mentally check out and still have other storylines, other characters, that they are willing to invest themselves in emotionally. And once the unwilling portion of your audience has safely checked themselves out -- while still being viewers of the show -- then you get to have these stories included, you get to have an Alex Manes or an Eliot Waugh whose story-driving wants and needs include men. A movie can’t do that. There aren’t enough plotlines or enough lead characters to allow a portion of your audience to opt out of some of them without them just, like, not going to see your movie at all.
But eventually we’re going to have to stop trying to play both sides against the middle by making movies about mlm that are aggressively not about their attraction to men. We’re kind of easing into discovering how The Straight Audience reacts to queer romcoms; that’s kind of the kiddie-pool level, since we’re already aware that straight folks tend to respond pretty well to “love is love” -- that dinosaur and that robot shouldn’t be kept apart by society, man!
Eventually, though, we’re going to have to deal with the fact that American masculinity is still, despite all the progress, constructed almost entirely around the two load-bearing pillars of Not a Woman and Not Gay, and it can be existentially challenging for straight men to allow themselves to invest in a story that’s about experiencing the world as a woman or as a queer man. Becoming absorbed in stories like that suggests that there’s no significant qualitative difference between themselves and a woman or a mlm, and -- that’s a real tough sell, especially in the midst of a massive cultural backlash against deteriorating gender distinctions, when anxiety about how to do masculinity is running high.
I don’t have a solution to this, except I guess the same way we pretty much solved the representation problem -- just chipping away at it over time. I just think it’s interesting to have lived through the decades when mlm representation became pretty normalized, and then to see what its limitations are, how you come to the end of that quest and you realize that there’s a whole new dimension of what it means to be inclusive of queer people in our cultural narratives.
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Steven Universe Alternate Future chapter 2: Guidance (originally published December 14, 2020)
Author's note: I think I'm gonna try releasing new chapters every Monday, for Part 1 at least. Anyway, here's Guidance.
Synopsis: Steven helps the students of Little Homeschool get jobs, but they're not very good at them.
Cast:
Zach Callison as Steven, Onion
Michaela Dietz as Amethyst, Blue Lace Agate,
Ian Jones-Quartey as Bixbite, Snowflake Obsidian
Michelle Maryk as Larimar
Aparna Nancherla as Nephrite
Charlyne Yi as Doc, Leggy, Army
Amy Sedaris as Teal Zircon
Kimberly Brooks as Zebra Jasper, Cherry Quartz
Natasha Lyonne as Smoky Quartz
Colton Dunn as Mr. Smiley
Dave Willis as Andy
--
On another lovely day in Beach City, Amethyst was walking along the boardwalk with a blindfolded Steven into Fish Stew Pizza. "Okay, two steps to the left." Amethyst instructed him as the two stepped into the pizza shop. "There's a chair right behind you." Steven did as he was told and sat down across from his sister figure. "Sit down aaaaand….okay."
When Steven undid his blindfold, he found himself inside Fish Stew Pizza with Amethyst in front of him and another Gem making pizza for them. "TADA!" Amethyst exclaimed with her arms excitedly spread out.
"Fish Stew Pizza? What a nice surprise." Steven giggled amusedly. "I mean, it has been a while since we last been here."
"No, that's not the surprise." Amethyst corrected him. "Notice anything different?" She gestured over to the Gem working with Kiki Pizza, perfectly slicing the toppings to pieces with utmost grace, laying them atop a crust that was put into the oven by Kiki.
"Oh, hi Steven!" the crab-like Gem greeted Steven.
"Bixbite? Is she working here?" Steven asked Amethyst.
"Yeah dude, and she's crushing it!" Amethyst answered. "Bixbite is an expert on slicing and dicing, and now she can put those skills to good use in a pizza parlor."
Another pizza came in fresh from the oven courtesy of Kofi, and Bixbite obediently brought it over to her friends. "Order up you guys!" she declared while setting the pie down. "So, any thoughts?"
"That's awesome!" Steven gasped at the pizza in awe of how well-made it was.
"Check out that 'za brah." Amethyst agreed, shapeshifting her hand into a ruler and a protractor to measure Bixbite's cuts. "Each slice exactly the same length, 45 degrees." She concluded, and then took a slice to eat. "Wow, pure perfection! I almost feel bad for eating this! You made me proud Bixie."
"Thanks for the compliments you guys." Bixbite thanked the pair. "And I couldn't have gotten here without you Amethyst."
As Bixbite walked away, Steven took a slice of the perfect pizza too. "I didn't even know she wanted a culinary career."
"Yeah, we talked a lot about her interests and experiences the other day." Amethyst revealed. "Then I set her up with Kofi, and here we are. Bixie is just the beginning y'know. I've been wanting to do something big for the school, so I've been helping Gems get human jobs, and everything is going amazing so far! I call it Gem-Human Excellence Mentorship, or G.H.E.M for short."
"I get it, like Gem." Steven came to a realization, much to Amethyst's mild frustration.
"No, I said Gem-Human Excellence Mentorship." Amethyst corrected. "Anote the H."
Suddenly, a Ruby clad in a suit and sunglasses burst through the door and let out a war cry while tearing off her sleeves, revealing the gemstone on her left shoulder before regaining her composure. "All clear my mayor."
Another Ruby dressed in the same clothes entered Fish Stew Pizza, wearing her shades over a yellow visor, by somersaulting into the room and stood alongside her compatriot. "All clear too." She repeated before allowing Mayor Nanafua to enter the pizza joint.
"You got Rubies in your program too?" Steven asked. "And why those Rubies in particular? I mean, they didn't try to kill me like Eyeball and Navy did, but they're still a little intense. Especially Army."
"I just found them to be a little more agreeable compared to those two." Amethyst replied while Doc & Army surveyed the area and Leggy helped the mayor to a chair. "Anyway, I got them working as bodyguards for the mayor."
"How many other Gems have you given jobs?" Steven asked again.
"Glad you asked!" Amethyst replied with a smile, and took Steven outside to show him her progress.
--
Amethyst took Steven from Fish Stew Pizza all the way to Beach City Funland, where she showed him just how many Gems she got to work there.
"Blue Lace Agate?" Steven gasped, seeing Blue Lace working at the ring toss booth and using her horns as targets, before discovering Biggs Jasper operating the Ferris wheel and Crazy Lace Agate handing out balloons. "Biggs? Crazy Lace? Have the Quartzes taken over Funland?"
"Yeah, I've been understaffed for so long so it was about time I had a few extra hands." Mr. Smiley said as he appeared behind the two Crystal Gems. "It could take a whole army to keep this park running!"
"An army?" Steven became worried, but then became distracted by what was going on in the sky.
"Hey check it out, Nephrite's doing some skywriting!" Amethyst cheerfully pointed out Nephrite drawing Steven's face in the sky with the smoke from Steven's cousin Andy's plane. "With all her experience flying dropships, it was only natural she do skywriting. Heck, she might even be better at flying than Andy! Still a bit of a perfectionist though."
As Nephrite crossed out her drawing, Steven began getting a little concerned with Amethyst's idea while they walked through Funland. "Um, Amethyst, isn't this a little on the nose?" he asked.
Amethyst however didn't pay him any mind, and instead pointed towards a pair of Gems giving a snowcone to the mayor. "Oh oh, look! Snowflake and Larimar found an ice-related job on the boardwalk!" she shouted while Snowflake Obsidian summoned a large pillar of ice for Larimar to scrape at, and the shavings formed a snowcone for Nanafua to enjoy.
"I still don't know about this." Steven muttered bemusedly.
"About what?" Amethyst asked him. "Everyone's doing pretty fine here."
"I mean, ice Gems doing ice jobs, pilot Gems piloting and guard Gems still guarding." Steven pointed out. "These are basically the exact same jobs they did on Homeworld."
"I swear Stee, these are totally different!" Amethyst nervously assured Steven, only for Leggy to walk by and prove her wrong.
"Wow, these jobs are exactly like what we once did in the old days." Leggy said before she high-fived Army.
"Thanks for the help Amethyst!" Army yelled to Amethyst.
"These are the jobs they wanted, I swear!" Amethyst continued nervously.
"Well sure, maybe they think they want to do this stuff," Steven explained. "but it's still up to us to get them out of their comfort zones!"
"I dunno man." Amethyst objected. "Comfortable can be good too."
"Bear with me for a bit here." Steven declared, and walked towards Snowflake and Larimar. "Hey you two, I just wanted to know what your duties were back on Homeworld."
"I dug ice trenches for the army!" Snowflake answered.
"And I made ice sculptures for the Diamonds!" Larimar added. "You should've really been there for some of my finest work, it was some of the best I've ever car-"
"So is ice kinda your default mode?" Steven cut Larimar off.
"Uh, yeah." Snowflake stated, sharing a look with the smaller Gem. "I mean, with a name like Snowflake Obsidian, what else do you think I do?"
"That's not the point I'm trying to make." Steven said. "Did you ever try doing something else?"
"Like filling ice trenches?" Snowflake answered, just as Nephrite coincidentally flew overhead on Andy's plane, giving Steven an idea.
"How about flying a plane?" Steven suggested.
--
Steven and Snowflake followed the plane to an open meadow where it landed. When Nephrite noticed Steven waving her down, she jumped out to see what was up.
"Hey Steven, what do you need?" Nephrite asked him.
"I'm gonna need you and Andy to talk with Snowflake here for a bit." Steven said, bringing attention to the Obsidian behind him. "I want to get her out of her comfort zone for a bit, so I think maybe she'd like to fly a plane."
"You sure about this kiddo?" Andy asked his cousin worriedly. "I mean, I already got a fine pilot right here." He patted Nephrite on the back, which gave her a smile. "But then again, I'll try anything once. Come on big guy."
Snowflake sheepishly got on the plane with Andy and began for take-off. "I don't snow about this." She punned while the flying machine quickly flew away.
"What's that, can't hear you!" Steven cried over the sound of the engine turning on and the plane finally leaving for the skies. "Have fun!"
--
Next, Steven took Larimar by the hand to the Appalachian, where Cherry Quartz was currently working. "I have an idea for you Larimar." He said to the little ice-carver. "You could operate the Funland roller-coaster. It's a great job, and you get to help people have fun."
"He's right, though I'd really like to actually ride it myself." Cherry agreed with Steven.
"Oh, what is that wonderful noise?!" Larimar asked excitedly while the coaster riders cheered from the adrenaline.
"That's just the screams of joy from everyone on this old thing." Cherry answered proudly.
"Human screams are my favorite of Earth's delights!" Larimar exclaimed happily. "I'll take his job, so I can hear them screaming forever!"
"Okay, that's a little creepy." Steven beamed nervously at Larimar's off-putting enthusiasm. "But I'm glad your heart's in the right place."
"One day, I shall make you scream Steven." Larimar said, before she was taken to the coaster's control room. "I suppose this must help it function, correct?"
"Yeah, you just pull the lever up and down to either speed it up or stop it." Steven instructed. "Why don't you give it a shot?"
"Give me the screams!" Larimar shrieked eagerly, pulling the lever up and making the riders yell louder, while Steven returned from the control room to see Amethyst waiting for him.
"See Amethyst? With just a few small changes, your plan is working even better than before!" Steven claimed, but the overcooked Quartz wasn't buying it. "Don't look so worried, let's go help more Gems!"
--
Much to Amethyst's dismay, Steven went around the town assigning the Gems new jobs far more different than the ones Amethyst gave them.
Instead of working at Funland, Ocean and Zebra Jasper were taken to work at Fish Stew Pizza. Bixbite, meanwhile, was now selling balloons. Army was now selling flowers, Teal Zircon was dragged out to become a taxi driver, Nephrite now worked selling snow cones, and Amethyst was still powerless to stop Steven.
"Wow, sure feels good to be helpful." Steven congratulated himself as he sat at a table at Fish Stew Pizza. "Hopefully everyone can get more experience outside of their comfort zones, but for now, I think I'm beat."
But just when Steven thought he could relax after a job well done, he instead got a pizza to the face. "Order up!" Zebra Jasper cried while she tossed more pizza at Steven and began messily cutting the pies up.
"Delivery, delivery, delivery!" Ocean Jasper yelled as she delivered pizzas by throwing them at passerby's outside.
"Here you go, and I'll take that." Leggy said to a downed person, handing him some flowers and taking his wallet. "Here you go." She added to a woman covered in pizza before taking her purse, and then triumphantly holding up the valuables while setting them on fire. "Yeah, mission complete!"
While Bixbite was handing out balloons, Ocean Jasper threw some pizza at her head, causing her to pop some of her merchandise and let the rest fly away. "Oh no, not the balloons!"
The balloons floated towards Andy's plane, giving Snowflake a shock and causing her to cover the aircraft in ice, making it lose control while the two screamed in fear.
Back on the ground, a car driven by Teal Zircon beeped loudly while it crashed into a lamppost, to the anger of her passenger. "Apologies sir, I have no idea how cars work." She apologized to her customer, who simply walked away in a huff. "Aw come on, not even a hug to make it up to you?!"
As Steven witnessed all the chaos he had accidentally created, he had only one thing to say. "I've made a huge mistake."
--
"Hit me with another Nephs." Amethyst ordered Nephrite to make her a syrupy snowcone at the arcade, oblivious to the chaos outside, when Steven came running in. "Oh hey Steven, want some?"
"No Amethyst, I need your help!" Steven panted in resignation. "Our brilliant plan is basically kaput. I tried to help all the Gems get out of their comfort zones, and look what happened!"
"See Steven, this is what happens when you don't listen!" Amethyst declared accusingly. "You didn't listen to any of my ideas today!"
"That's not true; the Gem mentorship thing is a great idea!" Steven tried assuring his friend.
"It was a great idea when the Gems were doing what they thought they were best at," Amethyst continued. "but then you came in and told everyone what you think they should do! Even me!"
"I was wrong." Steven admitted. "I should've put more trust in you with the program. I don't know why I thought I could just take it over like that! I'm so sorry for today."
"Well, I'm glad you came around Steven." Amethyst accepted his apology with a hug. "Cause right now, I think we have our work cut out for us."
Outside, Teal Zircon was trying her hardest to fix the car she crashed, but to no avail. When she noticed Steven and Amethyst looking at her, TZ changed her tune immediately. "Hey guys! Don't worry, I have this totally under control!" The car then burst into flames. "I'm being serious. Totally under control."
"Yeah, I can see." Steven replied sarcastically to Teal. "So what do you say Amethyst? Want to help me unhelp everyone I've helped?"
"Yeah, alright." Amethyst replied before noticing that Snowflake and Andy were close to crash-landing. With no time to lose, she dragged Steven by the arm out of the arcade, and they formed the chubby half-human fusion Smoky Quartz. "SMOKY!"
Summoning their yo-yo, Smoky Quartz tossed it at the plane and wrapped the string around its tail, but they accidentally cause the tail to break off and make everything worse. "Uh, oops."
While the plane kept spiraling out of control, Smoky bounded off Teal Zircon's destroyed car and summoned another yo-yo to keep them airborne. A third yo-yo was tossed soon after, forming a net that caught the plane and allowed Smoky to return it to the ground safely. "Hey guys, you cool?" Smoky giggled at their pun. "Get it, because of the ice?" The giggling soon ceased and they started panicking. "Anyways, I'm so sorry! You okay?"
"I'm fine." Snowflake answered while clambering out of the plane. "Except that I now have a fear of flying, so there's that."
"Seriously, my life flashed before my eyes for a bit." Andy added, adjusting his flight cap. "Good thing you came in for the save."
"Phew, thanks Uncle Andy." Smoky let out a sigh of relief before they turned to the havoc at Funland. "Gotta run, roller coaster on the fritz!" With that, Smoky made a run for the amusement park, in the process putting out the flaming car with the wind, where the Appalachian had now spun out of control.
"These are not the screams I was hoping for!" Larimar cried, unable to regain control of the ride.
Smoky Quartz began running faster as the coaster started to fall apart, all while having an inner argument with themselves. "Seriously, we're not gonna make it in time! C'mon, faster!"
"If you can save the universe Steven, then I can sure save a roller coaster!" Amethyst declared through Smoky.
"But saving the universe took time!" Steven replied hastily. "I don't have any time, and I sure won't take thousands of years to save this!"
As more of the coaster began falling apart, Smoky was in full panic mode. "Agh, what do I do?!"
"I don't know, I don't know!" Steven replied through their fusion, just as panicked. "Just give me a second!"
Suddenly, Smoky began turning pink thanks to the parts of them that came from Steven, and they suddenly started going even faster than before. Or rather, everything became slower.
"Whoa, cool!" Smoky gasped in amazement at their new form just as they made it to the Appalachian in time and jumped onto the broken rails. "Gotcha!" they exclaimed, but then they noticed how slow-moving everything and everyone had now become. With this sudden new power of slowing down time, Smoky decided to use it to their advantage.
At the front were Sour Cream and the ex-Mayor Dewey, whose hat was flying off his head from the intense speed. "Whoa okay, that goes there." Smoky muttered, putting the hat back on Mr. Dewey while borrowing Sour Cream's phone to take a picture of the three of them with, before returning the device to its owner. "Okay everyone, last stop!"
Smoky quickly got to work, taking all the humans out of the coaster, and safely returned them to the ground. As they were all tossed out of the ride and back onto the pier, they were dropped incredibly slowly due to the intense slowing of time. When Smoky rescued the last of the riders & safely returned them to the ground, time finally returned to its normal flow and they were no longer pink.
"Everybody's all safe and accounted for!" Smoky stated. "Now onto saving that coast-" They were too late to save the roller coaster as it went off the rails and launched off the broken rails into the ocean. "Ah well." They muttered. "Sometimes you can save the people from the roller coaster, but you can't save the coaster itself."
The coaster then combusted in the water, leaving a massive mushroom cloud in its wake. "And that's okay."
--
Later that day, Steven and Amethyst had successfully returned everything to normal and treated themselves to snow cones as a reward. Steven was mostly silent throughout, but Amethyst was ecstatic at how they had controlled time earlier as Smoky Quartz.
"Dude, that was intense!" Amethyst exclaimed. "We basically slowed time just like in one of those manga Lapis reads, but I'm bummed that it didn't come with the power to summon steamrollers. We were going so fast; everything almost came to a screeching halt!"
"Yeah, that was pretty nuts." Steven giggled anxiously.
"It was awesome!" Amethyst added, still super excited. The two of them looked around to admire what they fixed. Bixbite was back to working at Fish Stew Pizza, Nephrite was flying with Andy again, Teal Zircon swore never to drive a car again and the Rubies had now returned to defending the mayor.
"Now that I look at it, you were pretty spot-on with everyone's jobs." Steven confessed. "It just makes me wonder, you think I'm a bit too controlling?"
"Okay, maybe a teeny bit." Amethyst admitted to Steven. "As for me, I didn't just guess what everyone wanted to do. I actually sat down with all these Gems and asked what they wanted. Everyone has had a crazy history, so I felt they should be able to choose how they feel and what they should do in the future. I feel like I finally know what I needed to do; I just needed to figure it out for myself. But now, I feel like I'm just as good at helping Gems decide that for themselves."
"Yeah, you're right." Steven agreed.
"So, what about you?" Amethyst asked Steven. "Now that things are starting to settle down, what do you want to do? Come on, let's talk about your future! The doc is in, first session is free!"
"Thanks Amethyst." Steven laughed lightly. "But I don't know. I still want to help people, but I think I might be losing my touch."
Just then, Steven felt someone tap his shoulder, and he turned to see Larimar standing before him, with a large stuffed bear poorly hidden behind her. "Hello Steven, it's me, Little Larimar!" Larimar greeted Steven. "I got you a surprise. Can you guess what it is?"
"Uh, no." Steven answered, clearly noticing Larimar's bear, but he decided to play dumb to humor her.
"It's a teddy bear!" Larimar announced as she presented the bear to Steven, who took the toy kindly.
"That's so nice Larimar, thanks." Steven thanked Larimar. "But why did you get me this?"
"I got this for you as a way of saying thank you." Larimar responded. "I know I'm not great at handling the roller coaster, but I find myself excelling at giving things to others, like handing prizes to children! Oh, their joyous laughter warms me so. It sounds kind of like screaming!"
Steven and Amethyst were a little weirded out by Larimar's comparisons, but they were still happy she found something that made her happy.
"I think these Earth children quite like me too." Larimar continued. "I never felt so happy in my life."
Steven and Amethyst's nervous expressions turned into sweet smiles, but as the destroyed roller coaster drifted past them in the ocean, Steven made a shocking realization. "Oh my gosh, we forgot Onion!" he panicked seeing Onion still in the coaster, and Onion gave him a little wave, which eased Steven's nerves. "Eh, I'm sure he'll be fine."
--
Thanks for joining me for another chapter of Alternate Future. Like in Regular Future, Little Homeworld and Guidance were merely appetizers for what's to come, because the next chapter will be where things get really interesting. It will be a fusion of Rose Buds and Volleyball, and we'll even get our first hint of something, or someone, plotting against Steven and Era 3. What am I even talking about? Well, tune in next week to find out!
#steven universe#steven universe future#fanfiction#steven universe alternate future#steven quartz universe#amethyst#bixbite#little larimar#snowflake obsidian#teal zircon#nephrite#smoky quartz
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Y/N AND HARRY STYLES SOULMATE AU PART 3
It's been a month and you’re pretty sure that Harry’s your soulmate. It's stopped itching after that day, when you'd run into each other at a coffee shop. It had already been lucky to run into someone twice in a city of millions, and your luck hadn't held up.
While the letters on your wrist are still pretty blurred, you can make out the H and S, his initials.
You hadn't told anyone either, wanting to keep it a secret. It felt wrong to go about telling people when you hadn't had a chance to talk to the man himself. Not really.
It made for good material to work through in your art studio hours. All the worrying and what ifs and thoughts running through your head as you thought about reaching out on instagram in the hope that it would somehow get to him.
But then you didn't. Not wanting to have to explain and talk to whoever on his team...of his people, handled that sort of thing.
Many celebrities got people claiming to be their soulmates. Hopefully young girls and boys who really wanted it to be true, who wanted their idols or celebrity crush to be theirs.
Or maybe you were just being old fashioned and letting things happen as they're meant to instead of blasting it on social media like some people did now, counting on the millions of people on social media to connect them.
It didn't matter.
You were fine with just seeing what happened. London wasn't that big. And you were still pretty young. And it might not be him.
Even though you knew in your heart that it was.
Between school, and work, and the little art our able to get done, you collapse in your apartment, Lydia already setting on your couch in a pair of sweats and old t shirt that might be yours actually now that you think about it.
“There's pizza,” she calls out to you, not looking up from her phone, smiling widely as she scrolls, “I think it's cold now but maybe it's like rice where it's less carbs when it's cold.”
“That sounds super fake and cold pizza is really freaking gross.” You utter, having almost died when she made leftover pizza and eggs together like it was an actual breakfast.
“I'm saving the planet by not using the toaster oven technically though.”
You snort, “wow I love an environmentally conscious queen.”
“So about that soulmate mark,” she says, smirking over at you from the couch, easy in your tiny flat while you pop a slice into the toaster oven.
“Don't want to talk about it,” you reply, already feeling the heat rise up into your cheeks.
“But you’re like the first person to get it!” She states, eyes practically sparkling with the idea. She'd never felt the annoying itch that made you scratch until your wrist turn red.
But even then you could feel the butterflies in your belly. It was easy to get lost in the idea of it all.
“Didn’t Pooja and Andy get it when they were still seventeen. Like months after the mark showed up!”
She shakes her head, looking back down at her phone in deep interest, “doesn't count because it happened before we met them. There's so gross together,” she finished fondly, sticking her tongue out.
“I'm going to tell them you said that.” You take a bite out of your reheated pizza, immediately regretting it when the hot steam burns inside your mouth.
“Anyway,” she says, “doing anything next Saturday?”
You shrug, “no. Don't think so. why?” It was your day from school and work. Ignoring all the work you should be doing for your classes. At least your thesis work was next year.
“Just wanted to make sure,” she says nonchalantly, “keep your day clear. We are going out.”
You laugh. There's never a day in which she doesn't want to go out and do something. “Okay. Do I get a say in it?”
“No, lets get lebanese at that one place by hyde park?”
Your mouth is already watering at the thought, “okay. I'm down, especially if we go to Hyde Park right after.”
“Deal,” she says, sitting up, “Now I'm going to go shower for the first time in a week.”
“Lydia that's so bloody disgusting,” you shout after her.
*
You're early. For once you hadn't been held back by anything but your own laziness after a long week. It was nice to have somewhere to be where you actually wanted to be, meeting up with Lydia like you too were still at college.
It wasn't like you'd lived very far from each other back home. And more often than not you'd ridden your bikes around town, resulting in more than a few falls.
You grab a table, order a mimosa while you wait like the semi functional adult you are because ladies who brunch order mimosas or so you've been led to believe. Plus it was bottomless, so it was a steal really.
As long as you drank your heart out. With Lydia you felt safe getting tipsy during daylight hours.
You scroll through your phone, answering texts and send some memes to people you knew were at work. Suckers. Laughing at the group chat for your ethics class now that you finally were actually reading through it. Andy was hilarious as usual.
When Harry walks in, wearing a tigre t shirt and loose pants in a flowery print, more bold than anything in your mainly neutral wardrobe, and raybans.
You swallow, heart speeding up at the weight of him walking through the door like something out of a romcom even though he can't be here for you. It's just a coincidence and yet you've never felt more nervous, the weight of it all lodged in your throat.
Your fingers brush against your mark, soothing the live wire of nerves under your skin.
He's walking towards you. It's unmistakable now but you can't see his expression underneath the black sunglasses. It strikes you as rude, that he hasn't taken them off. The sun's not even beating down hotly today.
You still haven't looked away. Maybe that's why he's coming over. . .too say hello. Technically you do know him.
People say hello all the time.
“Can I sit down here,” he asks, coming to a stop in front of you, head tilted towards the empty side of the booth.
Predictably, you ramble in shock, “my friend Lydia's coming actually but I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you sat here while you waited-are you waiting for someone?”
Harry slides his glasses off, hands still covered in a few large rings that somehow keep from looking overly tack on him. It must be the large hands.
The perfect kind for drawing really.
“Um,” he says, red staining his well defined cheekbones, “actually I'm meeting you…”
You raise an eyebrow, confusion written on your face.
Harry rushes to explain, flustered, “I had-I looked through a bunch of photos of me tagged on instagram and twitter and figured your friend Lydia might have uploaded and tagged me and then really hoped that she had her profile public,” he says, leaning over to you, bathing you both with an air of intimacy that you mirror as you study his features. The earnestness with which he's speaking to you clear in his mossy green eyes, in a way that paint could never mimic.
“and then I sent her a message and explained,” he trails off softly, looking down at his hands for a second, biting the inside of his cheek, searching for the words he needs.
You cover his hands on the table with yours, meeting his gaze head on. There's something so disarmingly kind about him that all that nervous energy you'd felt when he walked in had dissipated.
“Well I explained about what I think is...y'know maybe...it's too forward innit,” he utters, swallowing thickly as he meets your gaze, leaning back and pulling away from you, the warmth of his hands leaving yours. “I should've talked to your first not-not sprung this up on you.”
“No,” you tell him, “I was glad to see you again. Not that I wasn't also really freaking nervous but mostly glad.” The words feel true enough as you say them. So they must be true.
Harry relaxes against the table in relief, chuckling lightly to himself, looking over at you shamelessly, like he can't stand to lose another minute without you. Not when you might be-when you probably are-
You let out a deep breathe, “We should probably talk.” Someone should state it. Get it out of the way because there's no way you came all the way out here without getting one of your favorite dishes in london.
“We should,” he responds with a smile, small and hopeful and god wouldn't it be something if he is! This kind man who remembered you after a concert. Who went around london like any normal person might and didn't that say a lot about what type of person he is when he could be a complete arse given his fame.
“But first I’m going to eat and bore you with so much random bits of my Mayanist research paper I've yet to finish because I'm still pretending that it's not due next week and that time I had a popsicle made from zapote counted as research.” The popsicle had been interesting. The lackluster research results on your subject for this paper was not.
It had almost made you change subjects. Almost.
There's flecks of caramel in Harry's eyes when the light hits them, laugh lines deep around his lush mouth as he smiles over at you. “Only if you’re alright with me interrupting you with questions every five seconds,” he responds.
You look away, trying to calm down the warmth spreading throughout you from being on the receiving end of Harry smiling at you, not because he was usually smiling, but because he was happy to see you.
It's then that you notice the quick glances over at your table, the awkward hold of phones in hands and remember just who this man across from you is. You press your lips together, resolving to ignore them.
“Deal,” you tell him with a smile, “now I welcome you to share in my ladies who brunch dream before I squish in as much work as I can get through tomorrow.”
He laughs and you smile because that was you. You made him laugh.
*
Harry is easy to talk to, which you knew from that day in the coffee shop and even that night when Lydia had asked for a picture with him and you'd so easily teased him. What you hadn't expected was how easy it was to slip right into that.
No nervousness or strain arose from your impending talk as you slipped on your drink and ate, talking between bites.
You tell him about a documentary you just watched which was more of a string of thoughts, the type to make any cinephile nod in delight. About your latin american culinary research as your paper focused on important plants during mayan times and how they had translated into modern times. “I mean most people the world over had had guava not to mention the super fruit that avocado has become.”
“Who doesn't love a good guac,” Harry muses. “Though as good as guava is there's too many big seeds. Can't hardly-” He stops.
You smirk, “finish the sentence Harold.”
He sighs already laughing to himself, resolved, “can't hardly swallow.”
“That's what she said.”
“Knew you were going to say that.”
He tells you about his recent trip to the states. To a big awards ceremony with Stevie Nicks who it's clear he adores in the way his voice goes soft when he talks about her. “People always tell you not to meet your idols but,” he shrugs, face glowing as he continues, “it's-she's cooler than I could've imagined and such a good person too. She was really great when I wanted to show her my first album. Gave it to me straight.”
You smile, “It's amazing to know that some people are deserving of all the trust and love that people have in them.”
You split the bill without a fuss, merging into the late afternoon crowd seamlessly, a world away from the weird half hidden glances over at you.
You don't know how he does it. It had set you on edge, an edge the mimosa helped dull.
“Want to go to the Natural History Museum,” you ask him, wanting somewhere that might grant some privacy to talk. Hyde park just seemed to open. And the V&A was always so busy.
“Do you know the way,” he asks, glancing down at you.
You nod and lead the way, easily navigating a street over and up, comfortable in the quiet that had descended around you both.
There was enough sun out now in mid april to warm your skin, a nice change after the winter months of layers and layers.
It makes the walk enjoyable. Spring’s and underrated season you think. Too many people get caught up in summer for school holidays and winter because of winter break but spring was where it's at.
“You come here often,” he asks, as you both aimlessly wander around the museum, passing by people too absorbed in the exhibits to look over at the man by your side.
“When I can,” you readily admit, “I still feel so lucky to live so close to so many amazing museums even if the collections were all stolen.”
He snorts, “your professors must love you.”
“Well my greek professor did not so much my lit prof because english lit is all dead white guys that I think are vastly overrated.”
Harry shakes his head, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter, “and I want to hear them all no matter how much I might disagree.”
You grin, “well how boring would it be if we all had the same options? I mean I won't budge on Hemingway but art is a dialogue isn't it?”
“And what dialogue does your art say,” he asks as you step into an empty gallery. You suppose that the bird taxidermy collection is hardly exciting when zoos exist.
“That we should talk,” you respond, turning to face him, intimately close, his chest inches from yours.
“We should,” he says carefully, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, solid and warm and your eyes flutter closed. You breath in the smell of him, like sharp clean leather.
“Is this okay,” Harry asks with great care, his eyes searching yours.
You nod, “yeah, I mean,” you pull away unable to think straight so close to him, turning so that your looking at some long dead puffin. “Did you think I might be-when we ran into each other at the coffee shop?”
You hold your breathe as you wait for him to answer.
Harry doesn't move toward you, sighing as he leans against a wall, chewing over his words, brow furrowed. “No,” he finally says, “I didn't. I just remembered you'd been nice and funny about the whole thing with Lydia and then I ran into you and thought it might be a sign from the universe we're meant to be friends so I figured why not and went over to talk to you. My sister tells me I've always been like that. Friendly. Making friends out of strangers.”
You exhale, smiling as you turn towards him, taken by the severity of his expression. His gaze is fixed on you. “I didn't think-not until later when I was at work and my mark,” you offer, nervously brushing your hair behind your ears, “it seemed like too big of a coincidence. I hadn't really bumped into anyone else who's name starts with an H.”
“You didn't reach out,” he states, void of any rapprochement.
“I wasn't sure how to go about these things and I,” you hesitate, “I was still thinking things over. I mean this is sort of a huge thing.”
The corner of his lips perk up, “can I see it?”
You blush furiously, excitement traveling up your spine, “yes.”
Harry moves towards you, closing the distance between you both. He leaves enough space between you both, a step apart. It feels like too much and yet your glad, you don't want to rush. If he's really yours you want to take your time, to get to know him first and foremost.
You don't even know if he's a morning person. Or if he spreads the cream on scones first or the jelly first.
You can feel his gaze tracking your hands as you pull the sleeve of your right hand down, revealing your soulmate mark.
A blurry but legible Harry E. Styles
#Harry Styles#harry styles imagine#mine#harry styles x reader#soulmate marks#soulmate au#last part???
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fic recs
time to make a post about every single amazing fic I’ve read! it’s gonna be a longass post so get ready!
fandoms, ships and tropes included:
Supernatural - Destiel (mostly AUs), Wincest, Sastiel, Sabriel, Sam x Ruby, Sam x Reader // omegaverse / boyking!Sam / God!Sam
BBC Sherlock - Johnlock, Sherlock x Molly Hooper x John and included pairings, Sherlock x Mycroft x Greg x John and all included pairings // omegaverse
Loki - Loki/OC
***this entire list has NSFW fics***
SUPERNATURAL
God!Sam, no ships
The Holy Grail Bird by de_nugis for monicawoe
The God-gun has a divine recoil effect. Sam has to have another try at living with power.
...
Boyking!Sam, no ships
The King’s Guard by monicawoe
Andy had spent the last few hours watching Sam Winchester —King of Hell, God of the Abyss, Bane of Heaven— kill nearly two dozen souls, and feed them all to his pet — the biggest, scariest looking hellhound of them all.
...
Destiel
Twist and Shout by standbyme, gabriel
What begins as a transforming love between Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak in the summer of 1965 quickly derails into something far more tumultuous when Dean is drafted in the Vietnam War. Though the two both voice their relationship is one where saying goodbye is never a real truth, their story becomes fraught with the tragedy of circumstance. In an era where homosexuality was especially vulnerable, Twist and Shout is the story of the love transcending time, returning over and over in its many forms, as faithful as the sea.
...
Blades of Silver, Hearts of Gold by Scribo_Vivere
Corsair Winchester is the most feared pirate in the Caribbean waters. When he makes it his goal to attack the Pride of Heaven, a massive ship that is part of Port Lawrence's Naval fleet, he finds himself ill-prepared in every way to come face to face with Commodore Castiel Novak, the brother of the man he wishes dead. It seems an easy solution to take the Commodore captive, but Castiel's ocean-blue eyes, kissable mouth, and fiery defiance make Winchester begin to question his choice. As a war ensues on all fronts, it remains to be seen who is the prisoner, who is the master, and how far both men will go in the name of prudence, sacrifice, and love.
...
Ninety One Whiskey by komodobits
In the spring of 1944, the 104th Medical Battalion of the United States Army is disbanded, and its men reassigned to various infantry companies in preparation for their invasion of occupied France. For First Lieutenant Novak, this is less than helpful, as he has so far met his platoon’s designated medic a grand total of twice, and has both times found Sergeant Winchester to be the optimum combination of reckless, arrogant, and downright insufferable so as to make cohesive platoon function near impossible. When the time comes to move out, however, Castiel has to reconcile himself to the fact that men are going to go down and trust that Dean Winchester may well be the only person who can put them back together again.
...
Steps by Camerahead12
The moment he saw Dean Winchester dance Castiel knew he was lost.
It wasn’t the way his muscles moved as he leapt across the floor, or even the way the sweat dripped down the man’s freckled skin. It was just simply the way he danced. The passion that bled out from the movements left him breathless and thirsty for more.
And when he danced with Dean that first time, it was like falling in love.
Little did he know that falling for the man would lead to questioning everything Castiel has ever stood for. As the deadline for the studios yearly performance draws closer, will Castiel be able to come up with an idea good enough to save his company? Or will it be too late to pull it away from Crowley, his money hungry investor’s hands?
As everything begins to slowly fall into place, Fate (as She usually does) has other ideas. Just when life seems to be working out, not only will their trust in each other be tested, but their strength they’ve discovered within themselves starts to bend. Will they be able to hold it together before it snaps, leaving nothing but broken dreams in its place?
...
Find Me in the Light by allmystars
Castiel is fine with his life. Really, he is. He’s content with the locals and his prying, if well-meaning, business partner and brother. Everything is just...fine. That’s how he likes it—plain and uneventful.
Until Gabriel hires Dean Winchester to work at the cafe and, suddenly, Castiel's carefully crafted isolation is broken apart like the waves that stole his mother from him, and Castiel hates him for it.
He hates Dean’s attitude—hates his car and his stupidly pretty face with that permanent smirk. He just...hates Dean Winchester.
Until he doesn’t.
Until, somehow, Dean manages to weasel his way into Castiel’s heart and take up permanent residence there. Then Castiel isn’t fine—he’s far from it, actually. He’s great—wonderful and perfect and happy.
But things change—nothing is ever-present—and this loss might kill him. It might just tear Castiel apart. After all, how do you lose something you’ve been searching for your whole life, and survive it? How do you do that?
Castiel doesn’t think he can.
...
Of Twists and Turns by Kitmistry, Piento
When naval surgeon Castiel Novak is captured by the Black Impala pirates, he has no choice but to agree to their terms: He is to serve on their ship for a whole year before they release him. That doesn’t mean he is going to like it, though. Especially when their captain is the embodiment of everything Castiel despises.
Determined to earn his freedom, Castiel settles into the life of an outlaw. When the pirates’ true goal is revealed, though, he can no longer deny that things are not as black and white as he thought they were. And he can’t deny how drawn he is to Captain Winchester either.
...
Sabriel
Fifty Shades of Freedom by Aria_Lerendeair (omegaverse fic)
Gabriel Novak is a Class-A Alpha asshole and Sam Winchester wants nothing to do with him, especially after that interview! Except then, he maybe finds out a few things about Gabriel Novak that make him hate him a little less, and hey, maybe some of that bondage stuff sounds interesting…
Golden Shades of Freedom by Aria_Lerendeair (PART 2)
After the world finds out about their relationship, Sam settles into something semi-normal, with Gabriel. The paparazzi are desperate for something, but Sam is, well. Happier than he expected to be, dating an asshole like Gabriel. That, of course, is when the invitation from Gabriel’s family had come for the summer. Sam agrees to go, only if he can bring Dean with him. A few uncomfortable family revelations and one epic fight later, Sam’s left wondering if Gabriel actually is his happily ever after.
...
Sam x Ruby (and side-Destiel)
Job & Family by TigerLilyNoh
After Dean's death (at the end of season 3), Sam and Ruby begin hunting down Lilith. Without Dean by his side, Sam finds the world of hunting to not be as black and white as he once thought. He just wants to get closure and move on with life, but outside forces aren't making that so easy. By the time the brothers reunite, Sam is a very different person than he used to be.
The battle for Hell, Heaven, and the Apocalypse begins. In these crazy times, the boys find themselves with new enemies, allies, and bedfellows.
...
Sam and/or Dean x Reader
@negans-lucille-tblr is a great writer on Tumblr. I tried making a list of all the series I’d recommend and then realized I was just writing her entire Supernatural masterlist so here’s the link to her actual masterlist.
@winchest09 is also a great writer. Haven’t read her entire masterlist but her Life for Rent series is amazing.
...
BBC SHERLOCK
Johnlock
The Gilded Cage by BeautifulFiction (omegaverse fic)
In a world where Omegas are the property of the elite Alphas, locked away and treasured by those wealthy enough to buy them, John never questioned his flatmate's secondary gender. Sherlock Holmes was an Alpha through-and through.
Wasn't he?
A chance discovery turns the world on its head, and John is left grappling to come to terms with Sherlock's past as events conspire to threaten their future.
…
The Stars Move Still by BeautifulFiction
“What could I want so desperately that would make me sell my soul? What could possibly compel me to surrender the part of myself that makes me who I am: the source of my magic, my self-control, everything?"
...
BDSM (aka, thousands of words of pure filth. porn with plot if you squint.)
various pairings between Sherlock, Greg, John, Mycroft, Molly, and Eurus. (Molly and Eurus are non-con relationships)
Something Extraordinary by sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr
In a Dom/sub world, Dom!John and sub!Mycroft have found each other as have Dom!Sherlock and sub!Greg. This is their story.
…
Things Unwanted by sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr
sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr
This series contains variations on non-con/dub-con scenarios, most of which involve abduction and/or imprisonment of one form or another.
…
The Detective, His Doctor, His Brother, and His DCI by sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr
This is the first fic where The Detective and the Doctor and The British Government and the DI come together here.
...
Fics of the Void (aka very dark fics, non-con is a given)
Wincest
A Threefold Path to Redemption by rei_c
Sam finds a way to keep Dean from going to hell: he'll go in his brother's place. He knows it's going to be bad and that he'll emerge changed. He never knew how much.
...
Suite!verse by leonidaslion
This is how the world ends, this is how the world ends, this is how the world ends…
...
Sastiel
Like a Nail to a Cross by azazelsocks (unfinished but still posting)
“I want what any god wants,” Castiel said. “I want you. Your life, your soul, your devotion. Everything you have to give belongs to me, your God. In exchange, your family will be safe.”
There really was no other answer. “I agree,” Sam said.
The new God orders the Winchesters to kneel or be destroyed, and Sam, as always, will do anything to save his brother.
...
Sam and Dean-centric, no ships
Semper Familia by KatZen
When his dad comes back into the clearing with a scrawny kid he's just bought in tow, Dean isn't surprised. He knows Lilim aren't human, that they're creatures, like witches or wendigo.
But the kid that John's got by the arm, who's pulled as far away from Dean's dad as possible without actually trying to get his arm back, the kid whose eyes don't leave John and are bright with fear, the kid who looks like he hasn't eaten in a couple of days and is obviously favoring his left leg...
This kid looks an awful lot like a person. And what's more, he's the same age Sammy would have been.
...
LOKI
Loki/OC
Banditry by LoquaciousQuibbler (unfinished but still posting)
Noir, a thief living on the streets of Asgard, didn't realize it was Prince Loki she had pickpocketed. Call it a happy coincidence. She's immediately charmed by him, but how could a thief get her hands on the key to the prince's heart? Oh, no need. She's pretty handy with a lock pick.
...
shameless self promotion
LOKI | no ships
Stories of Innocence
A collection of short stories (five chapters or less) about Loki's youth. For those people who have a sudden craving for when Loki was happy and before Odin happened.
...
The End
The opposite end of the spectrum; where my Stories of Innocence are of young Thor and Loki, these are older Thor and Loki stories. They are part of the MCU and are based on events from those movies. Warning: lots of feels (I made myself almost cry for a character I dislike because of what I wrote).
...
BBC SHERLOCK | Johnlock
Loving a Married Man
I seem to love to make myself cry. A small collection of Sherlock feels stories. Warning: may make you cry.
...
SUPERNATURAL | Boyking!Sam / Sastiel
Prompt Fight | on ao3
A collection of boyking!Sam short stories written in accordance to prompts given.
#supernatural#loki fic#supernatural fic#bbc sherlock fic#johnlock#wincest#destiel fanfic#sastiel fanfic#loki odinson#sam winchester#dean winchester#castiel#castiel novak#thor odinson#sherlock bbc#sherlock holmes#john watson#boyking!sam#sam x ruby#loki x oc#sam x reader#dean x reader#sam x dean x reader#sabriel#god!sam#god!sam winchester
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Drabble list 47? Thanks so much!
Thanks for the ask, @commanderraydorsass! Set toward the end of Heart Failure, but isn’t completely canon-compliant.
Thanks for the other asks I’ve gotten, I’m moving on to them next!
47–“I can take care of myself just fine.”
“That all your money and your power and your position can't make up for the self-entitled, conceited little... oh!” Sharon knew the punch was coming, and she braced her jaw closed and shifted her weight to the balls of her feet. She’d had enough training to know that minimizing head movement would help avoid a concussion, so she concentrated on keeping her neck still and moved her whole body around with her head. She held on to the table as she tried to catch her breath and compose herself. It didn’t hurt right away, and she could tell she was a little in shock, despite being prepared for the blow. She was a little dazed as Provenza turned her toward him and looked at her face. When the door to the interview room flew open and slammed against the wall, she knew it was Andy who had entered the room without looking up, and Amy was close behind. She also knew she had to find her voice in time to keep FID out of their hair, because damn it if Andy didn’t have the asshole against the wall. “No, Andy, let him go,” she said as forcefully as she could manage. She was relieved when he backed off, but she was irritated that he hadn’t stayed in the electronics room, knowing he wouldn’t be able to control his anger with the suspect. The others were more than enough to keep the suspect restrained, and rushing in and risking getting himself into trouble just because he was angry was something they were going to have a talk about in her office in the next few days. For now, she just wanted the suspect out of her line of vision and some ice on her face, so she brought the back-and-forth snipping to a halt. “Anyway, you’re under arrest.”
With the others handling the suspect, Andy carefully pulled Sharon into a brief hug, not caring who was watching. He thought the tension he felt from her had to do with the suspect until she resisted and pulled back from him when he gently grasped her wrist and tried to pull her hand away from her cheek. “Nothing’s broken, Andy, it’ll just be bruised and a little swollen.”
“Let me see—”
“I’m okay. I can take care of myself just fine.” She was admittedly a little dizzy, and her eyes were watering and blurring her vision. How her glasses had remained intact and on her face was a mystery to her.
“I know you can, but it’s okay to accept help every now and then. Let’s get you some ice.”
“‘Kay. I need to find Hobbs first.” Sharon left the murder room with Andy, and they found Andrea and Rusty not far from the door. Rusty looked traumatized, so she gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, honey, I’m okay.” She took a deep breath, still a little disoriented and short of breath. “So, Andrea, assault on a police officer... that gives you enough to hold him while we make a deal, correct?”
Andrea nodded. “If the Tesla turns out to be what you guys think it is.”
Andy wrapped an arm around Sharon’s shoulder and led her toward the break room. “Now we're getting her some ice.”
The pain was starting to hit her full force, and Sharon lowered herself into a chair, took her glasses off, and pressed her forehead into the heel of her hand. A few moments later, she felt Andy’s hand under her chin and tilting her face up. He examined her cheek for a minute before holding an ice pack to the affected area. “I know it’s going to be a little more swollen and bruised after a while, but it’s not as bad as I thought. You take a punch pretty good.”
Sharon shrugged. “It wasn’t my first time, and I was prepared for it.”
“So, you remember what happened? Did you black out at all, or see stars or spots in front of you—”
“Stop, Andy, I don’t have a concussion.”
“Will you humor me, please? You know you’d be doing the same thing to me.” Sharon sighed, but she answered his laundry list of questions about her birthday, hometown, children’s names, and other basic facts. “And who made you scream so loudly in bed last week that you were afraid the neighbors might call 911?”
“Oh, you know about John?” Sharon deadpanned.
“Ha, ha.” Andy examined her pupils for a moment before Fritz poked his head into the break room.
“Captain? Are you all right?”
Sharon nodded. “Just a little bruised and sore. Nothing a little ice and rest won’t fix.”
“The rest of the team is going to search the Tesla. There’s nothing to do until they report back—why don’t you guys head home for the day?”
“I plan to,” Sharon agreed. “Thanks, Chief.”
“No problem. Get some rest.”
Once Fritz was gone, Andy held up his index finger. “Last thing, and I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Sharon muttered, but she obediently followed Andy’s finger from side to side with her eyes. When he was satisfied, he offered his hand to help her up. “Meet me at the elevators? I’ll get your things out of your office, and Rusty and I will get your car later.”
“Sounds good.”
By the time Andy had gotten his and Sharon’s things, he was worried when she wasn’t waiting in front of the elevators. She may have gotten sidetracked by Fritz or Andrea, but his mind was assuming the worst. He was about to panic and run back to the break room when he heard the familiar clack of her heels coming down the hall. “Where were you?” Andy asked a little more forcefully than he intended.
“Relax, Andy, I had to go to the restroom. Today hasn’t exactly been pee break-friendly for me.”
“Right. Sorry.” Andy pushed the button to call the elevator. “I wish you’d let me take you to a walk-in clinic, just to make sure—“
Sharon shook her head. “I’m fine. I just want to go home.”
When they got to the condo, Sharon changed into leggings and one of Andy’s Dodgers sweatshirts. The February afternoon had turned dreary and a little chilly, and with her bra off, hair pulled back, and her glasses safely in their case, she was more than ready to curl up on the couch with a movie and her favorite blanket. Andy met her on the couch with a couple of tablets of Tylenol and a glass of water. “Thanks, honey.” She swallowed the pills and took a few sips of water before lying down on the couch. The throbbing, tingling pain in her face had settled down to a dull, uncomfortable ache, but the past couple of sleepless nights were announcing themselves loud and clear. With The Bridges of Madison County in the DVD player, she knew she’d be napping in no time. Unfortunately, Andy seemed to read her mind. “Are you drowsy? Do you feel lethargic? That could be—“
“Due to the fact that I haven’t slept in a couple of days,” Sharon cut him off. Her expression softened, and she reached over to squeeze his hand. She knew he was just worried, like she would’ve been if it were him in her place. It just irritated her to be the one being taken care of, but that wasn’t Andy’s fault. “Tell you what. You have my permission to wake me up in an hour and ask me as many unnecessary questions as you want. I won’t be grouchy.”
Andy snorted and gave her an are you kidding me look. She could function off of no sleep like nothing he’d ever seen before, but once she was asleep, he was taking his life into his hands if he woke her up.
“I’ll try not to be grouchy,” Sharon amended.
“That’ll work.” Andy kissed her forehead, careful to avoid any painful areas, and tucked the blanket around her shoulders. Seeing that she was comfortable, he went to the kitchen to start dinner.
When Sharon woke up again, she could smell Andy’s vegetarian pasta that she loved cooking and hear the familiar music of the end credits of the movie. She rubbed her eyes and stumbled into the kitchen, more from the absence of her glasses than anything else. Andy’s back was to her, and she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested the non-injured side of her face against his back. Andy lay his arms on top of hers. “Hey, you feeling a little better?”
“Yeah—you didn’t wake me up, did you?”
Andy turned around and leaned down to kiss her. “Nah. I thought about it a couple of times, but you looked so peaceful.”
“I’m sorry I’m not the best patient.”
Andy shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I know you well enough to know I should’ve backed off a little. That guy just pissed me off, and I’ve never seen you hurt at all, and it was—uh—“
“Impulsive. I know.”
Andy kissed the top of her head. “Dinner will be ready in about half an hour. Why don’t you take a bath, and I’ll have some tea ready for you when you get out? You need to get some ice back on your face, too.”
Sharon stood on her tiptoes to peck his cheek. “Perfect.”
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we can’t criticize grad students for being influenced by toxic academia
//NOTE: This was originally posted to Wordpress on 05.22.2021//
It’s 9:26 am as I type this. I had my second dose of the Pfizer vaccine on Thursday, and I spent all of Thursday night–and into the wee hours of Friday morning–with a low-grade fever and a splitting headache. Ibuprofen helped, but I was in a fog all day yesterday. I worked, but only on tasks that I could manage–nothing too rigorous, just training and reading. I feel better today but am still a little sore under my left arm. Needless to say, I’m thankful to be (almost) fully vaccinated and to be feeling better. It’s Saturday, and I was looking forward to crocheting all day. I had no intentions of writing anything because I didn’t have much to say.
I’m 8 minutes into a 20-minute Ask a Mortician video. All of her videos are incredibly fascinating, and she seems like a real doll, but this video is an exceptionally interesting one. I happened to check Facebook, the site where dreams go to die, and I came across a post by TPII responding to an article written by a then-first-year grad student, Andy Greenspon. It’s titled “9 things you should consider before embarking on a PhD” and it’s shared on Elsevier Connect. Of the article, TPII writes, “Gaslighting by a Harvard PhD candidate, masquerading as grad school advice. To write this in 2021…. ffs.”
I’m not linking either of these things because I don’t want some algorithm to trace them back to me, but I think that’s enough information for someone reading this blog to go find these, if they still exist.
About Greenspon’s article: the title pretty much gives the plot. It’s a first-year student’s take on the lessons they’ve learned during their first year of grad school. As they put it in the first paragraph, the point of this article is to “save you [the prospective grad student] from anguish and help you make better decisions as you embark on that path to a PhD.” The author is now a PhD candidate in the sciences, which tells you more about the way publishing works than possibly anything else–except that maybe the author has stuck with grad school despite the negative aspects of the lessons in this article.
I won’t rehash the contents of Greenspon’s article because a truly interested reader will go find it for themselves. In some sense, the article quite clearly functions as a time capsule reflecting a particular stage in this particular grad student’s educational trajectory. I’d be curious to see how they feel about some of the things they wrote. As with any advice, everything this author says needs to be taken with a grain of salt. If there are any prospective grad students reading this, my main advice–advice that I think anyone will agree with–is that you need to get as many opinions and as much advice as possible because one person’s opinion of, perspective on, or experience during grad school will differ considerably from that of another person. Some of Greenspon’s recommendations simply won’t work for certain people, and that’s okay. If you’re considering going to grad school, you’re already probably a good critical thinker; you know how to approach something critically and without embracing it wholesale, so you should have no problem determining, for instance, if taking a year off between undergrad and grad school is an option for you. It wasn’t for me, and I don’t think it would’ve changed much if it had been.
All that being said, I don’t actually think all that much of what Greenspon says is especially controversial–except for point #7 and point #9 (the second is the source of the TPII controversy, if you can call it that). So, though I don’t think every bit of advice in the article will be advice every read should follow, I do think it’s advice worth hearing and considering. If nothing else, it’s good to get another perspective.
Greenspon’s seventh point is the point I’d take issue with–or, maybe, ask to be a bit more nuanced–as someone who has a PhD in a humanities discipline. In my experience, a program’s reputation matters quite a bit. It might not matter as much as location in the sense that someone probably shouldn’t go to a school that is in a location where they know they will be miserable, but names do tend to matter in academia. Let me explain. I went to a PhD program in the middle of the Midwest because that program and the university housing it have very good reputations (good names). This university isn’t Harvard or Yale, which have better names, but there’s no way I would’ve gotten into an ivy. My institution’s small town was just that, a small town with small things to do. I didn’t even know where it was when I applied (and when I got in), but I knew it would be fine for at least five years. The town wasn’t as uninhabited and without entertainment as, say, Mars, but it was no Chicago or Boston or Manhattan. You had to get creative and make your own fun because the town didn’t just provide it for you. The trade-off, though, was that the school and the program had strong reputations, which brought opportunities (and entertainment) that made it worthwhile. As someone who didn’t continue on in academia in a traditional way, I’ve found that my institution’s name has been a talking point in interviews and other networking opportunities. Hell, my dad received comments on my university (it’s football team, maybe) because he was wearing a t-shirt from there while on vacation halfway across the country from the university. I’m not sure I so much disagree with Greenspon here as I think the way the point is phrased here needed to be refined a bit. That is, Greenspon’s point isn’t wrong, but the way it’s stated is a bit misleading because so much time is devoted to advising that the reader go somewhere fun. Maybe I’m misreading Greenspon, but it seems to me that Greenspon is, in actuality, emphasizing the importance of paying attention to a program’s full package. If that’s the case, then I agree with Greenspon that “the reputation of the individual department you are joining — and sometimes even the specific research group you work in — are . . . important.” Indeed, when I say that going somewhere with a “good name” matters, I’m speaking about both the university itself and the particular grad program. Both of those things constitute a “good name.” The decision to go to a particular PhD program is informed by a whole assortment of choices, including its reputation, its location, finances, and departmental culture, among other things. Within that list of decisions, reputation might rank lower on the list of important decisions than location; for someone else, it may rank higher. That’s normal. In any case, Greenspon is right to point out that these things need to be considered. I guess I just think the phrasing in this section could’ve been clearer.
So, on to the point that received TPII’s attention: point #9, “There are no real breaks.” According to TPII, this is “Gaslighting by a Harvard PhD candidate, masquerading as grad school advice.” Scrolling through the comments on this Facebook post, a lot of readers are calling out TPII’s use of the word “gaslighting.” It seems like TPII, whose comment on the article is remarkably limited for someone who made such a strong comment on this article, is taking issue with the last third of this point, where Greenspon advises that “you should have passion for the research you work on (most of the time), so you should be excited to think up new experiments or different ways to consider that data you have collected.” I’m not fond of the “you should” phrasing here, and I do think Greenspon sounds a bit naive here. Most grad students feel that passion, but passion can take different forms and evolve over time. Think of passion in a relationship: early on in a relationship, you may feel passion in the form of lust for your partner, but that lust may evolve into a different form of passion as time goes on, becoming a deep commitment or trust in that partner. By my fourth year of the PhD program, I still cared about my topic, but I wasn’t brimming with excitement at the newness of it; that passion and devotion had evolved with time.
Back to the “you should” of it all, though. The problem with this phrase is not, as the Facebook commenters point out, that it’s “gaslighting” readers. Calling this “gaslighting” undermines instances where people actually are gaslit. The reader isn’t being made to question their judgment, memory, or interpretation of their experiences. The reader isn’t being forced to turn to Greenspon for emotional support/validation after having had their own experiences delegitimized and called into question by deception, contradiction, etc. Rather, the problem with this type of phrasing is the way it proselytizes a particular “right way” of doing graduate school. The problem is that is may potentially imbue guilt in a reader who, at the time of reading this piece, doesn’t feel that passion. There are a million reasons why this might be the case, and I’d be shocked to learn that there’s even one grad student–Greenspon included–who didn’t, at some point in their education, feel less-than-passionate about their research. It happens because we’re humans and sometimes get burnt out when work on the same thing for a number of years. But from the perspective of taking this as it was intended, this argument is a testament to how early on Greenspon was indoctrinated into the grad school mentality that one must be passionate about and devoted to one’s topic. And frankly, as someone who completed a PhD program relatively recently, having interest in one’s topic makes grad school a lot more bearable, so in a lot of ways, I think Greenspon is right to emphasize it.
Do I think passion is necessary? No, but as I said, passion can take a lot of forms. So, again, we’re back to the point that maybe Greenspon’s language isn’t great; maybe an editor should’ve recommended a few revisions here, or maybe Greenspon should’ve written this as a fifth-year student rather than a first-year student. Whatever. But this isn’t gaslighting. And as at least one Facebook commenter pointed out, are we really going to criticize a graduate student for being a product of the culture in which they’re being indoctrinated rather than criticizing the culture itself? I’m not down with that. I may disagree with some of the words Greenspon uses or the ways Greenspon makes certain points, but I’m not a public page with 1,000s of followers calling out a grad student for sharing advice about how they’ve survived the first year of an incredibly difficult experience–an experience that is known to have produced a wide range of negative effects, including PTSD, CPTSD, depression, anxiety, and so on.
And if you think I’m being extreme here, look at the first two thirds of Greenspon’s ninth point. This is where Greenspon emphasizes the amount of time that a grad student is expected to devote to their studies and research, and what gets sacrificed in the process. This is about survival. Greenspon says,
In a stereotypical “9-to-5” job, when the workday is over or the weekend arrives, you can generally forget about your work. And a vacation provides an even longer respite. But in a PhD program, your schedule becomes “whenever you find time to get your work done.” You might be in the lab during regular work hours or you might be working until 10 p.m. or later to finish an experiment. And the only time you might have available to analyze data might be at 1 a.m. Expect to work during part of the weekend, too. Graduate students do go on vacations but might still have to do some data analysis or a literature search while away.
As a PhD student, it might be hard to stop thinking about the next step in an experiment or that data sitting on your computer or that paper you were meaning to start. While I imagine some students can bifurcate their mind between graduate school life and everything else, that’s quite hard for many of us to do. No matter what, my research lies somewhere in the back of my head. In short, your schedule is much more flexible as a PhD student, but as a result, you never truly take a break from your work.
The only thing that shocks me about these two paragraphs is that Greenspon might know of grad students who go on vacation. I’m absolutely shocked. Where are they going? Are these vacations actually part of conference travel or visits to family so they can attend funerals or weddings? I’m mostly being sarcastic because I know the answers to these questions. And anyone who has been a grad student in the last decade will know that everything Greenspon says here is true. Anyone who doesn’t see the truth here is sorely out of touch with what grad students across academia experience.
And that brings me to my other point about TPII–the book and the blog. They’re products of an earlier time of academia–the book especially.
The book was published in 2015, and by then its approach to grad students finding jobs was already getting tiresome.
Let me start by saying that I’m the target audience for this book. I graduated high school in 2008, the same year as the academic job market apocalypse. I started my MA program in 2012, and I started the second year of my PhD program in 2015. Between 2012 and 2015, I attended plenty of career workshops and lectures. By my second year of the PhD, I was already thinking extensively about what I’d do after the PhD, and I’d already been seeking out extra opportunities that would give me as many skills as possible.
By 2015, I had heard more than my fair share of the same relentless, cloying negativity that characterizes the tone of the TPII book. It was all the rage at that time. Professors considered themselves “cool” if they grumbled and groaned about how hard it was for grad students to find jobs. But for grad students, it was no longer “cool”; it was over-played, out-of-touch, and unproductive. It was negativity for the sake of negativity, and all it did was shatter dreams or serve as a brutal wake-up call without offering something else in its place. That negativity wasn’t matched with some opposite–some other place to invest one’s hope for the future.
At that time, and I’m assuming today as well, the “cool” professors were the ones who embraced students seeking alt-ac or non-ac opportunities, the ones who encouraged their students to develop other skills and seek other forms of knowledge. The coolest were the ones who helped their students do these things by brainstorming and researching opportunities with them, who found resources on campus that could help when the professors themselves didn’t have firsthand knowledge in certain areas, and who generally and genuinely supported students seeking careers outside of academic.
At a certain point (and I’d argue that this point came well before 2015), it was no longer ethical to advise that any grad student pursue an academic job without any other options. But this book was published in 2015, and it was still the “gold standard” for job market advising in 2019 and 2020. I’m sure it still is, but 2018/2019 was when my advisor handed me a copy of the book and said something about it helping me get a job.
It did help me, but probably not in the intended way. Tucked at the back of the book is a short chapter on “Leaving the Cult.” That’s what helped me–that’s the section where TPII isn’t outdated. That’s the section where the book doesn’t try to play the part of “cool, moody, negative aunt” and actually is the cool aunt. In 2015, that short chapter shouldn’t have been relegated to the last few pages of the book; it should’ve been expanded to at least half of the book’s length.
This revision would’ve fundamentally altered the function and purpose of the book, but I think that’s what would’ve made the book worthwhile in 2015 and after. It’s what would’ve made the book stand the test of time. Don’t get me wrong, the book is still made out to be the “gold standard,” but it isn’t actually serving its target demographic as well as it could because it’s so focused on finding them jobs in a market where those jobs simply don’t exist–or they don’t exist in the way the book suggests they do.
Okay, that’s enough for now. Back to my video.
XOXO, you know.
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we can’t criticize grad students for being influenced by toxic academia
//NOTE: This was originally posted to Wordpress on 05.22.2021//
It’s 9:26 am as I type this. I had my second dose of the Pfizer vaccine on Thursday, and I spent all of Thursday night–and into the wee hours of Friday morning–with a low-grade fever and a splitting headache. Ibuprofen helped, but I was in a fog all day yesterday. I worked, but only on tasks that I could manage–nothing too rigorous, just training and reading. I feel better today but am still a little sore under my left arm. Needless to say, I’m thankful to be (almost) fully vaccinated and to be feeling better. It’s Saturday, and I was looking forward to crocheting all day. I had no intentions of writing anything because I didn’t have much to say.
I’m 8 minutes into a 20-minute Ask a Mortician video. All of her videos are incredibly fascinating, and she seems like a real doll, but this video is an exceptionally interesting one. I happened to check Facebook, the site where dreams go to die, and I came across a post by TPII responding to an article written by a then-first-year grad student, Andy Greenspon. It’s titled “9 things you should consider before embarking on a PhD” and it’s shared on Elsevier Connect. Of the article, TPII writes, “Gaslighting by a Harvard PhD candidate, masquerading as grad school advice. To write this in 2021…. ffs.”
I’m not linking either of these things because I don’t want some algorithm to trace them back to me, but I think that’s enough information for someone reading this blog to go find these, if they still exist.
About Greenspon’s article: the title pretty much gives the plot. It’s a first-year student’s take on the lessons they’ve learned during their first year of grad school. As they put it in the first paragraph, the point of this article is to “save you [the prospective grad student] from anguish and help you make better decisions as you embark on that path to a PhD.” The author is now a PhD candidate in the sciences, which tells you more about the way publishing works than possibly anything else–except that maybe the author has stuck with grad school despite the negative aspects of the lessons in this article.
I won’t rehash the contents of Greenspon’s article because a truly interested reader will go find it for themselves. In some sense, the article quite clearly functions as a time capsule reflecting a particular stage in this particular grad student’s educational trajectory. I’d be curious to see how they feel about some of the things they wrote. As with any advice, everything this author says needs to be taken with a grain of salt. If there are any prospective grad students reading this, my main advice–advice that I think anyone will agree with–is that you need to get as many opinions and as much advice as possible because one person’s opinion of, perspective on, or experience during grad school will differ considerably from that of another person. Some of Greenspon’s recommendations simply won’t work for certain people, and that’s okay. If you’re considering going to grad school, you’re already probably a good critical thinker; you know how to approach something critically and without embracing it wholesale, so you should have no problem determining, for instance, if taking a year off between undergrad and grad school is an option for you. It wasn’t for me, and I don’t think it would’ve changed much if it had been.
All that being said, I don’t actually think all that much of what Greenspon says is especially controversial–except for point #7 and point #9 (the second is the source of the TPII controversy, if you can call it that). So, though I don’t think every bit of advice in the article will be advice every read should follow, I do think it’s advice worth hearing and considering. If nothing else, it’s good to get another perspective.
Greenspon’s seventh point is the point I’d take issue with–or, maybe, ask to be a bit more nuanced–as someone who has a PhD in a humanities discipline. In my experience, a program’s reputation matters quite a bit. It might not matter as much as location in the sense that someone probably shouldn’t go to a school that is in a location where they know they will be miserable, but names do tend to matter in academia. Let me explain. I went to a PhD program in the middle of the Midwest because that program and the university housing it have very good reputations (good names). This university isn’t Harvard or Yale, which have better names, but there’s no way I would’ve gotten into an ivy. My institution’s small town was just that, a small town with small things to do. I didn’t even know where it was when I applied (and when I got in), but I knew it would be fine for at least five years. The town wasn’t as uninhabited and without entertainment as, say, Mars, but it was no Chicago or Boston or Manhattan. You had to get creative and make your own fun because the town didn’t just provide it for you. The trade-off, though, was that the school and the program had strong reputations, which brought opportunities (and entertainment) that made it worthwhile. As someone who didn’t continue on in academia in a traditional way, I’ve found that my institution’s name has been a talking point in interviews and other networking opportunities. Hell, my dad received comments on my university (it’s football team, maybe) because he was wearing a t-shirt from there while on vacation halfway across the country from the university. I’m not sure I so much disagree with Greenspon here as I think the way the point is phrased here needed to be refined a bit. That is, Greenspon’s point isn’t wrong, but the way it’s stated is a bit misleading because so much time is devoted to advising that the reader go somewhere fun. Maybe I’m misreading Greenspon, but it seems to me that Greenspon is, in actuality, emphasizing the importance of paying attention to a program’s full package. If that’s the case, then I agree with Greenspon that “the reputation of the individual department you are joining — and sometimes even the specific research group you work in — are . . . important.” Indeed, when I say that going somewhere with a “good name” matters, I’m speaking about both the university itself and the particular grad program. Both of those things constitute a “good name.” The decision to go to a particular PhD program is informed by a whole assortment of choices, including its reputation, its location, finances, and departmental culture, among other things. Within that list of decisions, reputation might rank lower on the list of important decisions than location; for someone else, it may rank higher. That’s normal. In any case, Greenspon is right to point out that these things need to be considered. I guess I just think the phrasing in this section could’ve been clearer.
So, on to the point that received TPII’s attention: point #9, “There are no real breaks.” According to TPII, this is “Gaslighting by a Harvard PhD candidate, masquerading as grad school advice.” Scrolling through the comments on this Facebook post, a lot of readers are calling out TPII’s use of the word “gaslighting.” It seems like TPII, whose comment on the article is remarkably limited for someone who made such a strong comment on this article, is taking issue with the last third of this point, where Greenspon advises that “you should have passion for the research you work on (most of the time), so you should be excited to think up new experiments or different ways to consider that data you have collected.” I’m not fond of the “you should” phrasing here, and I do think Greenspon sounds a bit naive here. Most grad students feel that passion, but passion can take different forms and evolve over time. Think of passion in a relationship: early on in a relationship, you may feel passion in the form of lust for your partner, but that lust may evolve into a different form of passion as time goes on, becoming a deep commitment or trust in that partner. By my fourth year of the PhD program, I still cared about my topic, but I wasn’t brimming with excitement at the newness of it; that passion and devotion had evolved with time.
Back to the “you should” of it all, though. The problem with this phrase is not, as the Facebook commenters point out, that it’s “gaslighting” readers. Calling this “gaslighting” undermines instances where people actually are gaslit. The reader isn’t being made to question their judgment, memory, or interpretation of their experiences. The reader isn’t being forced to turn to Greenspon for emotional support/validation after having had their own experiences delegitimized and called into question by deception, contradiction, etc. Rather, the problem with this type of phrasing is the way it proselytizes a particular “right way” of doing graduate school. The problem is that is may potentially imbue guilt in a reader who, at the time of reading this piece, doesn’t feel that passion. There are a million reasons why this might be the case, and I’d be shocked to learn that there’s even one grad student–Greenspon included–who didn’t, at some point in their education, feel less-than-passionate about their research. It happens because we’re humans and sometimes get burnt out when work on the same thing for a number of years. But from the perspective of taking this as it was intended, this argument is a testament to how early on Greenspon was indoctrinated into the grad school mentality that one must be passionate about and devoted to one’s topic. And frankly, as someone who completed a PhD program relatively recently, having interest in one’s topic makes grad school a lot more bearable, so in a lot of ways, I think Greenspon is right to emphasize it.
Do I think passion is necessary? No, but as I said, passion can take a lot of forms. So, again, we’re back to the point that maybe Greenspon’s language isn’t great; maybe an editor should’ve recommended a few revisions here, or maybe Greenspon should’ve written this as a fifth-year student rather than a first-year student. Whatever. But this isn’t gaslighting. And as at least one Facebook commenter pointed out, are we really going to criticize a graduate student for being a product of the culture in which they’re being indoctrinated rather than criticizing the culture itself? I’m not down with that. I may disagree with some of the words Greenspon uses or the ways Greenspon makes certain points, but I’m not a public page with 1,000s of followers calling out a grad student for sharing advice about how they’ve survived the first year of an incredibly difficult experience–an experience that is known to have produced a wide range of negative effects, including PTSD, CPTSD, depression, anxiety, and so on.
And if you think I’m being extreme here, look at the first two thirds of Greenspon’s ninth point. This is where Greenspon emphasizes the amount of time that a grad student is expected to devote to their studies and research, and what gets sacrificed in the process. This is about survival. Greenspon says,
In a stereotypical “9-to-5” job, when the workday is over or the weekend arrives, you can generally forget about your work. And a vacation provides an even longer respite. But in a PhD program, your schedule becomes “whenever you find time to get your work done.” You might be in the lab during regular work hours or you might be working until 10 p.m. or later to finish an experiment. And the only time you might have available to analyze data might be at 1 a.m. Expect to work during part of the weekend, too. Graduate students do go on vacations but might still have to do some data analysis or a literature search while away.
As a PhD student, it might be hard to stop thinking about the next step in an experiment or that data sitting on your computer or that paper you were meaning to start. While I imagine some students can bifurcate their mind between graduate school life and everything else, that’s quite hard for many of us to do. No matter what, my research lies somewhere in the back of my head. In short, your schedule is much more flexible as a PhD student, but as a result, you never truly take a break from your work.
The only thing that shocks me about these two paragraphs is that Greenspon might know of grad students who go on vacation. I’m absolutely shocked. Where are they going? Are these vacations actually part of conference travel or visits to family so they can attend funerals or weddings? I’m mostly being sarcastic because I know the answers to these questions. And anyone who has been a grad student in the last decade will know that everything Greenspon says here is true. Anyone who doesn’t see the truth here is sorely out of touch with what grad students across academia experience.
And that brings me to my other point about TPII–the book and the blog. They’re products of an earlier time of academia–the book especially.
The book was published in 2015, and by then its approach to grad students finding jobs was already getting tiresome.
Let me start by saying that I’m the target audience for this book. I graduated high school in 2008, the same year as the academic job market apocalypse. I started my MA program in 2012, and I started the second year of my PhD program in 2015. Between 2012 and 2015, I attended plenty of career workshops and lectures. By my second year of the PhD, I was already thinking extensively about what I’d do after the PhD, and I’d already been seeking out extra opportunities that would give me as many skills as possible.
By 2015, I had heard more than my fair share of the same relentless, cloying negativity that characterizes the tone of the TPII book. It was all the rage at that time. Professors considered themselves “cool” if they grumbled and groaned about how hard it was for grad students to find jobs. But for grad students, it was no longer “cool”; it was over-played, out-of-touch, and unproductive. It was negativity for the sake of negativity, and all it did was shatter dreams or serve as a brutal wake-up call without offering something else in its place. That negativity wasn’t matched with some opposite–some other place to invest one’s hope for the future.
At that time, and I’m assuming today as well, the “cool” professors were the ones who embraced students seeking alt-ac or non-ac opportunities, the ones who encouraged their students to develop other skills and seek other forms of knowledge. The coolest were the ones who helped their students do these things by brainstorming and researching opportunities with them, who found resources on campus that could help when the professors themselves didn’t have firsthand knowledge in certain areas, and who generally and genuinely supported students seeking careers outside of academic.
At a certain point (and I’d argue that this point came well before 2015), it was no longer ethical to advise that any grad student pursue an academic job without any other options. But this book was published in 2015, and it was still the “gold standard” for job market advising in 2019 and 2020. I’m sure it still is, but 2018/2019 was when my advisor handed me a copy of the book and said something about it helping me get a job.
It did help me, but probably not in the intended way. Tucked at the back of the book is a short chapter on “Leaving the Cult.” That’s what helped me–that’s the section where TPII isn’t outdated. That’s the section where the book doesn’t try to play the part of “cool, moody, negative aunt” and actually is the cool aunt. In 2015, that short chapter shouldn’t have been relegated to the last few pages of the book; it should’ve been expanded to at least half of the book’s length.
This revision would’ve fundamentally altered the function and purpose of the book, but I think that’s what would’ve made the book worthwhile in 2015 and after. It’s what would’ve made the book stand the test of time. Don’t get me wrong, the book is still made out to be the “gold standard,” but it isn’t actually serving its target demographic as well as it could because it’s so focused on finding them jobs in a market where those jobs simply don’t exist–or they don’t exist in the way the book suggests they do.
Okay, that’s enough for now. Back to my video.
XOXO, you know.
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NFL draft takes szn
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I’ve finally made it all the way back around to where I started last summer.
Lamar Jackson is going to be the best player in this year’s draft, not even just the best QB. Right now, with 10 days to go until names start being called my QB preference is:
1. Lamar Jackson
The upside is outrageous but put him with a great coach (like Sean Payton or Bill Belichick) and the floor is pretty high, too. Lamar has much better accuracy than raw stats would indicate though he isn’t consistent with his placement. There are some mechanical flaws that have to do with falling back on his athleticism when the pocket breaks down or, more specifically, when he anticipates too eagerly that the pocket will break down. It’s not so much a matter bad vision in those situations but he gets a little bit too reliant on his arm without setting his feet (”base”) properly. That tends to lead to throws sailing. You can try this out for yourself - try throwing off your lead rather than your plant foot.
A lot of internet commenters and pundits have Louisville’s offensive scheme completely backwards. Remember why Bobby Petrino failed in the NFL? It was because he’s an untrustworthy snake who is always looking for his next meal, not because his offense was too simple. Louisville runs a route tree that is pretty similar to what most NFL teams run but with a bunch of receivers and running backs that will never even get tryouts in the league.
Jackson has shown great command of that offense and his otherworldly running ability (best of any player in this draft) is a positive to his overall game. Wherever he lands the staff needs to put in some designed QB runs for him to take full advantage but that’s not exactly crazy. He was nowhere close to a “run-first” QB in either of the last two seasons but you have to make use of your players abilities.
2. Josh Rosen
There is some truth to the fact that you can’t predict injury susceptibility. Look at Frank Gore, a guy who was injured constantly in college and missed time regularly through his early NFL career but who hasn’t missed a game in 5 years now as he lurches towards the sunset. Still, Rosen has had concussion problems which actually do tend to get worse with each one and he’s a QB with basically no running ability so he’s either going to have to go the full Peyton Manning/Dan Marino route where he gets rid of the ball so quickly that his line starts to look impenetrable or he’s going to be out of the league within four years. That is a pretty low floor by my reckoning.
Take away the concussion concerns (I don’t think the shoulder is probably worth worrying about) and Rosen is a perfect pocket passer. His placement is perfect every time he throws because he has absolutely text book mechanics. There is a bit of a gunslinger mentality that worries me just the slightest bit because his arm isn’t maybe as strong as he thinks his arm is but he’s got plenty of ability to hit strikes down the field. So the ceiling is pretty high if you can keep him on the field in a high volume passing offense. The Matt Ryan comparisons are pretty nice. So I guess just get him paired up with a generational talent at WR and let nature take its course.
3. Baker Mayfield
On the field I think Mayfield is pretty much without a legitimate weakness. He’s a little bit short and (surprisingly to me, at least) not particularly athletic for the position but his accuracy has been at the top of the charts in every metric available throughout his college career. Now the question is how much of that is god-given talent and how much of that is playing four years against barely perceptible defenses? He carried those same numbers over against higher level competition when he was given the chance so I think it’s a translatable skill.
Baker’s attitude and his competitive nature are either his biggest assets or his biggest detriments depending on who you ask. The physical component (i.e., size) is a non-starter in that it’s been shown to be an overrated trait a thousand times over in the last decade-plus. But is there a real threat of him getting crushed mentally the second he has a couple of bad games in a row? I’m not going to judge that from where I sit because I don’t have anything to base it on. You reading this probably don’t either. My guess is that his borderline obnoxiousness is going to be what makes him great.
Now, having said that, I do wonder if he has enough athletically to get over in the NFL. Drew Brees and Russell Wilson are both smaller than Mayfield but they also both have (had?) much more arm strength than Baker. His arm talent (!!!) is functional/good, theirs is good/great. But the accuracy thing with Baker and the Michael Jordan complex make me think he’ll do just fine in pretty much any team situation.
4. Sam Darnold
Here’s what gets me with Darnold: I think his arm-strength is overrated and I think his turnover machine tendencies are downplayed. His throwing motion is weird but he gets the ball out quickly so that shouldn’t be a cause for concern. Kerry Collins got away with that type of thing for over a decade and was a pretty good pro. But the downside here is that I think that’s what Darnold can best aspire to be: another Kerry Collins (without the off-field issues, one would hope.) That’s a fine thing to be but it’s not anything I would take over more singular talents that are also available. If you have a choice between Mike Vick playing for Andy Reid, Matt Ryan playing for Kyle Shanahan, Drew Brees playing for Sean Payton, or Kerry Collins playing for Jim Fassel, who would you take?
On the field Darnold reminds me of Jameis Winston for his carelessness but without the MLB-ready arm. Darnold is a better runner than Jameis (Peyton Manning is, too, that’s not high praise) but the way he deals with pressure or even a stalemate calls to mind all of Winston’s worst instincts for me. I think Darnold is going to be a fine starter but I’ll be shocked if he’s ever an All-Pro. Especially in Cleveland.
5. Josh Allen
Tools! Allen has everything you want physically if you’re designing a QB for a video game but his accuracy and his placement are horrible. If it’s all due to a mechanical flaw that can by fixed by a genius QB coach that’s great but then what? His mental game still didn’t look good at any point in his time at Wyoming. It’s not like he was making great reads and having his teammates let him down. He made poor throws at bad times and looked completely overwhelmed by anybody getting in his face.
At his absolute best I think you might get an average Jeff George season. That’s 100% on the rocket arm. Is Allen’s arm actually that good? I think the more likely comparison for Allen is Kyle Boller, who was also huge and athletic and rocket-armed with none of the mental aptitude for the NFL that you need to actually be a good QB. Hell, Allen wasn’t a good college QB so what makes anybody outside of the insular world of pro football think he can get better at the highest level? Within the NFL the answer is most obviously hubris but it might just be that there’s something (crossing the sports reference points here) like Jose Bautista’s jacked up swing that can be fixed and let that potential run wild. That seems like a ton of risk.
Worst outcome he’s Dan McGwire. Most likely outcome he’s Kyle Boller. Best possible outcome he’s Jeff George. Good for you, NFL team, if you think that’s a worthwhile risk but Allen seems so obviously the low man of the major QB prospects to me that I can only question my own judgment when he goes #1 overall. Until we see him play in an actual game I just do not get it at all.
93. Mason Rudolph
Rudolph made a great living against some horrible defenses just by having a great supporting cast. If you go looking for Garrett Grayson in the first round then here’s your guy. Otherwise just let it be the second draft with 5 first round QBs and be done with it. 1983 doesn’t need to be re-lived.
SPECIFIC COMMENT RESPONSE FROM LAST WEEK: Accuracy is about putting the ball in the proper “window” for your receiver to be able to make a play on it, placement is about how you get it there. In draft guy parlance that means “putting it where only your receiver can catch it” but it’s tied back to repeating your fundamental motion as close to identically as possible on every throw (repeatability.)
#nfl draft#quarterbacks#accuracy#placement#lamar jackson#josh rosen#baker mayfield#sam darnold#josh allen#mason rudolph
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Congratulations Brooke you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Bellatrix Black!
↳ please refer to our character checklist
Bellatrix is such a complex character, so it was a delight to get an application that explores so many different sides of her personality! Her possessiveness, her addiction to torture, the vestiges of insanity, her love for her family -- it all came through beautifully in your app. I know she’ll be a much wanted addition to our mix, and I can’t wait to see how you explore her characteristics and allow her to grow depending on where the plot takes us. Congratulations and welcome!
application beneath the cut ( tw: death, torture, blood )
OUT OF CHARACTER
INTRODUCTION
Hi, my name is Brooke. I’m 26 and go by she/her. I live in EST time zone, USA.
ACTIVITY
I’m a teacher so my activity during the week can be a bit spotty if I have school functions, however I am active on weekends. So my number is anywhere from 6-8 given the day of the week. I also have the app on my phone and can post during my lunch breaks and when out and about.
TRIGGERS
*removed for privacy
HOW DID YOU FIND US?
I was RPing here a while back as Lucius, but RL got away from me so I had to drop him. My friend Orlik is still here as Umbridge so I felt like coming back now that my life is more settled.
WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?
I love Luna. She is someone so utterly full of life and she gives no fucks in the best possible way.
ANYTHING ELSE?
I am a devoted Ravenclaw!
IN CHARACTER
DESIRED CHARACTER
Bellatrix- Means “female warrior” in Latin. This is the name of the star that marks the left shoulder of the constellation Orion.
Eris- Eris was the goddess of strife and discord
Black- a nickname given from the earliest times to a swarthy or dark-haired person
FACE CLAIM
Eva Green suits me fine! She has a wild beauty about her that fits my view of Bellatrix.
REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER
Ah, Bellatrix Black. The infamous zealot for Voldemort’s cause. Wielder of the power of Occlumency. Bringer of pain and destruction. What’s not to love about our resident crazy witch? She’s wild, full of blood lust, and evil. These types of characters are a blast to play! It is a small chance to drop the modern niceties and bring out a wilder side of you. Yet, Bellatrix is a character who is not one dimensional. Yes, she’s mad, but there’s also passion, loyalty, and even love.
Bella (I’ll call her that even though I imagine she’d allow no one but her sisters and Voldemort to call her that) is passion incarnate. Every action she does is done with her full self. Nothing is half assed with her. At any moment she is ready to kill for her cause and kill she will, with brutal skill and violent strength. Such is her passion that she utterly defends her cause, her blood purity, and family.
This brings us to her next point. Loyalty. She is of course loyal to the Death Eaters, but I would even say her loyalty to her family comes before that. She loves her sister Narcissa and I think, deep down, even Andromeda, though her passion would never allow her to admit it. The loyalty for the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black is so deeply ingrained in her that she’d stop at nothing to make sure it’s honor is upheld to the highest. Merlin help the person who dares sully their good name. This of course means Andromeda, which brings out a heavy struggle in the two sides of Bella. Loyalty and Passion conflicting at once.
But let us not forget love. Bella has memories of her sisters that are not easily forgotten, even in throes of passion and madness. She loves them dearly as she does her master. She may not understand her feelings as love however. She might see it more as possession. They are HERS and must be protected at all costs. How she manages her love among her other traits as the war develops remains to be seen, but it is clear it will be a struggle for all involved. Nothing will stop her from her goals, not even herself.
PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS
Bellatrix uses sex as a means for power. Whether it be to sleep her way to the top or to get someone hooked on her extensive bedroom skills, Bella has no qualms about working what she has. She is bisexual with a heavy lean towards women. Women are so soft and delicate and so fun to break. The sight of blood, dark and wet, makes her hot and she loves to break out the knives for a little fun. The feel of steel on flesh, lightly touching and teasing as it raises goosebumps on the skin makes her dizzy. But it all becomes clear once she plunges the blade into her unfortunate lover’s flesh. Muggles are particularly fun to play with, so innocent and trusting. You know that Bellatrix has been around if attractive young muggles begin to disappear at a frightening speed.
Bella does not feel love, per say. She feels possessive and things that she marks are hers are just that. HERS. Her sisters. Her master. All hers. The thought of her beloved Andromeda in the possession of anyone else fills her with rage. HERS. NO ONE ELSE’S. Andy will return, even if it means she returns to Bella in her burial shroud.
CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER:
-A MOODBOARD- http://www.gomoodboard.com/boards/P2Bme_9I/share
-A PLAYLIST
Starset- My Demons (theme song)
“I cannot stop this sickness taking over It takes control and drags me into nowhere I need your help, I can’t fight this forever I know you’re watching, I can feel you out there
Take me high and I’ll sing Oh you make everything okay (okay, okay) We are one in the same Oh you take all of the pain away (away, away) Save me if I become My demons”
The Offspring – You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid
“Slowly out of line And drifting closer in your sights So play it out I’m wide awake It’s a scene about me There’s something in your way And now someone is gonna pay And if you can’t get what you want Well it’s all because of me”
Nancy Sinatra- Bang, Bang
“Bang bang, he shot me down Bang bang, I hit the ground Bang bang, that awful sound Bang bang, my baby shot me down
Seasons came and changed the time When I grew up, I called him mine He would always laugh and say “Remember when we used to play?”
Lana del Rey- Ultraviolence
“He used to call me DN That stood for deadly nightshade ‘Cause I was filled with poison But blessed with beauty and rage”
Imagine Dragons- Thunder
“Just a young gun with a quick fuse I was uptight, wanna let loose I was dreaming of bigger things And wanna leave my own life behind Not a yes sir, not a follower Fit the box, fit the mold Have a seat in the foyer, take a number I was lightning before the thunder”
IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE
The following section should be looked at like a survey for your character. Answer them in character and feel free to use gifs. Or, if you’d rather, answer them in third person or OOC without gifs. Answers do not have to be extremely lengthy.
♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it:
Skin is full of holes, you know. Did you know that? Little tiny holes. Openings. Entry ways. There’s a phobia for that, you know. Imagine. A fear of itty bitty little tiny holes. It makes one think of something sick. Infested. Infected. Trypophobia. Foraminissanguinem is my spell. Imagine a geyser. So beautiful. Now imagine three trillion of them erupting. Each from a point nearly invisible to the naked eye. So beautiful, no?
♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you: There is one object I have always admired since I was a tiny pip of a girl. The Staring Glass Eye in Borgin and Burke’s. It’s quite a simple object. Unassuming. Small. Shiny. Yet it does so much more than meets…well, the eye. It resembles a glass eye. Of course, it does. A small, round, shiny glass eye with a blue iris. Pretty little thing. Would match my collection. I do so love the color blue. Once held, its owner is alerted to anyone or anything that attempts to sneak up on it. It sees through all things, solid or otherwise. Organic or otherwise. Such a useful tool, no? I believe I’ll inquire about its whereabouts. If lucky, it will remain at the store for my purchase.
♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make?
None. What a ridiculous question. Next!
♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you?
That I were not the very image of blood purity. I am Bellatrix Eris Black, eldest daughter of Cygnus and Druella Black, of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. The blood of my veins is that of a pure blood witch. My lineage is pure and superior. To declare otherwise is to meet the end of my wand.
WRITING SAMPLE
The echo of footsteps reverberated around the abandoned alley. The man, breathing heavy, pulled himself along the wall with one hand. The other was wrapped protectively around his broken ribs. Each footstep was a burning agony. Each intake of breath threatened collapse. Yet, he continued on. The safe house was near. Just a bit further and he’d be with the others. They weren’t expecting him, but he’d be welcomed. The information he’d acquired…he shivered slightly, feeling cold. Was it the chill weather or the rapid loss of blood that brought on the shiver? He couldn’t say. A high feminine giggle echoed somewhere nearby. He paused, barely breathing. It faded in the night, leaving a haunting silence in its wake. He shivered again. Must keep moving.
Behind him, stalked a predator. The metallic scent of blood wafting in her nostrils. She shivered as well, yet for a wholly different reason. A sigh followed by another high pitched little giggle. What fun! Stooping down, one long finger reached out to touch the crimson liquid splattered on the cobblestone. A pianist’s fingers, he father used to tell her. In happier times, that is. The blood was still warm. The coated finger was raised to the woman’s lips. A fine color to match her already ruby lips. A tip of pink tongue darted out to taste the salty liquid. Another sigh, like one offered to a sweet-talking lover. Oh, this was fun.
So close. He just had to make it. She was closer, he knew. But there was no rush in her pursuit. She knew as well as he, that he was not going to make it. A tear slipped down his face, falling to mix with the blood on the stone. If he could just get close enough. If he could just find some way to alert them, then it would not be for nothing. They needed to know. He needed them to know. Another step. He stumbled and then fell. Black spots danced before his eyes, blacker than the night. The sound of footsteps drew nearer until they were right upon him. She tutted, sadly, before straddling the man. Her weight upon his broken ribs brought gasps of pain. She nuzzled him gently. Her finger, still coated in the man’s blood, stroked his stubbled cheek. A smear spread upon it, barely noticeable in his already bloodied features. She smiled, which tore a sob from the man’s lips. It was too wide, too toothy. She leaned in close, her lips almost to his ear, and whispered gently. His sobs came swiftly. “Did you really think I’d let you go so easily?” She pressed her lips to his cheek before sticking out her tongue. She licked the side of his bloodied face and shuddered heavily. “We’ve only just begun our fun.”
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Thoughts on the SotC Screenplay
This didn’t create quite the splash I had hoped it would but here’s my reaction post anyway. So, recently this guy Dan a.k.a. “Foldable Human”, who is a Youtuber and Team Ico fan, shared information and some writing from a screenplay for the long in-gestation Shadow of the Colossus movie. This was probably NOT Seth Lochhead’s script, as this one was apparently from 2010 and Seth was hired in 2012. In 2010 no director was attached to the project (now, IT’s Andy Muschetti is), and as far as I know, it’s not known who the writer of this script was.
So, first of all, how cool is it that we get this right now? We’re at a place where there’s stuff going on in the fandom (or whatever you want to call it) because the remake is happening, but there’s not that much - stuff will really explode when the remake actually comes out - so it still feels like a lull. It’s great to have this piece of Team Ico...esoterica, if you will, to discuss.
So, the script seems pretty bad from what we know about it. I think - contrary to many of you I’m sure - that Sotc can be a good movie, it just has to be done the correct way. Of the 38 pages Dan has read (they may have been all he got?), most of it is devoted to a long and dialogue-heavy flashback explaining how Wander met Mono, her death, and his escape to the Forbidden Lands. Now, I actually think an SotC movie would need flashbacks in order to function. Film is a different medium from games. We already have the version of SotC with the least possible amount of exposition. I’m fine with a little more. So the problem isn’t that the flashbacks are there at all, it’s everything else about them.
In the game, the player can’t infer much about Wander, but I imagine that most of us think of him as being someone who’s pretty gentle and quiet, maybe even when he was around other people. He’s pretty feminine in appearance, he doesn’t seem very good at fighting, and he cares a whole lot about his horse and Mono, clearly. The script seems to turn him into some random young snarky protagonist guy. He’s also an escaped slave for some reason. Mono fares slightly better because she doesn’t have a personality in the game. She speaks in a weird broken english which doesn’t seem needed (I guess her and Wander are from different countries? Why?), but her being a more spiritual and openly emotional person than Wander kind of makes sense. I could see Wander sort of learning to feel these things himself from her. And yes, they do speak English in this script. Of all the elements of the game, I feel like having all of it be in a fictional foreign language would probably be one of the hardest to do in movie form. You’d have to actually create the language beyond what Team Ico did, and you might alienate a lot of viewers. People were okay with The Passion of the Christ being all in Aramaic, a language no one speaks anymore, but they might feel that this was a random unneeded choice. I do feel it’s important because it gives the game a more mysterious an unknown aspect. So I hope they at least tried to get the language in there. And there is a created language in the movie, but as far as Dan says it’s only spoken by Mono’s father and Mono a bit, and seems to just be there to make them different and special from everybody else. There’s this conversation between Wander and Mono about the afterlife that’s not so bad except it’s also not the sort of thing that really needs to be in an SotC movie at all. Agro is there, and is also an escaped slave of sorts, so she and Wander sort of bond over that even though Agro is very aggressive at first. This could also be done better because I think most of us get the impression playing the game that Wander and Agro have been together for a long time. Emon is this asshole village leader who says Wander will never amount to anything, which also kind of seems unneeded. He clearly seems to have sympathy for Wander and Mono at the end of the game. Definitely put him in one of the flashbacks, but there’s no need to change him in any real way.
The worst change for sure, though, is with Mono’s death. This is the one thing that should probably be included in an SotC movie that’s not in the game, so it’s gotta be done right, in my opinion. In the game it’s clearly stated that Mono was sacrificed because she was believed to have some cursed fate. In this screenplay, she’s thrown against a wall by her drunk father, which breaks her neck. Dan explains this better than I could in some tweets, where he talks about how the game is about Wander dealing with forces that are a lot bigger than him, and how the more spiritual element being present in Mono’s death matters because of that. But more than that, it’s just lame and weird. It’s melodramatic. What’s going to happen when she comes back to life? Will her neck unsnap?
You really do have to wonder if the writer had the game’s own script or cutscenes on hand, or just played/watched them once and then went off and did what they wanted. You have to wonder if they thought these choices were genuinely better, or things that had to be done to get the movie made with the budget it needed, or both. I think it would be very illuminating to see more of this script. This is just a little more than a third of it. If the colossus fights are fine, if there’s contemplative moments in the Forbidden Lands, if there aren’t any more flashbacks, if the ending is still mostly the same, I suppose it would improve my impression of all this. I hope we can see it soon.
In the end, I have to reiterate that I think an SotC movie can be done right. There are movies where long stretches of time go by without anyone saying anything. There are a plenty of them. The thing is, none of them were made on blockbuster budgets. So that’s the real challenge, and a probable reason why any more recent script for this might be similar to this one. I want to see Colossi on the big screen, so in the end I’ll take whatever they come up with - I just hope it’s a little closer to Ueda’s vision that this script seems to be.
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Harry Kane has declined over the past year. Should Spurs fans be concerned?
If you had to guess, you could probably get most of the names. Over the past 10 years, who would be on the top 10 for most shots attempted in a single Premier League season?
The list doubles as a pretty good summation of the most impactful players in the league over that span. There’s Luis Suarez, who is on there twice. Wayne Rooney is on there. So is Cristiano Ronaldo. The two defining Chelsea players of the era, Frank Lampard and Didier Drogba, both make appearances, as do Gareth Bale and Robin van Persie. All legendary figures, able to prop up the attacks of some of the best teams in the league, all on their own.
You know who else belongs in that group? Harry Kane — or, at least, he used to.
– ESPN’s Ultimate XI: This team would win everything – Ian Darke: What could derail Man City and Liverpool this season? – Graham Hunter: The legend of Samuel Eto’o
In 2017-18, Kane took 184 shots. Since 2008, which is as far back as TruMedia’s dataset goes, only Suarez (187 in the 2012-13 campaign) attempted more. Like Suarez, Kane is the only player with two seasons that fit into that aforementioned top 10, as his 158 shots in ’15-16 rank exactly 10th, and that’s without even mentioning the year in between.
A couple of weeks ago, I picked Kane as the best attacker in the league for the ’16-17 season. That year, he became one of only six players this decade to break the 1.00 non-penalty-goals-plus-assists-per-90-minutes mark. Had Mohamed Salah not put together the best non-Luis Suarez attacking season in Premier League history, I would have picked Kane for the next year, too. With his 28 non-penalty goals, Kane has been surpassed by only Suarez and Salah (31) in this decade. His two-season total of 52 from 2016 to now is the best back-to-back run of the past 10 years; the same is true if we extend it back to a third year. He scored 72 non-penalty goals from 2015 through 2018, and no other three-season run comes even close.
At the end of the ’17-18 season, Kane was just 25, with years left of his prime. Although Tottenham hadn’t won a trophy, Kane’s ascension coincided with Spurs rising into the Premier League top four and staying there. He’d already become a legendary, talismanic figure, winning two Golden Boots in a row. The season that snapped his streak doubled as one of the best individual goal-scoring seasons in league history.
Kane’s doing just fine for England, but goals and impact have been much harder for him to come by at Tottenham, especially in 2019.
Kane was a bona fide superstar with the potential to get even better. Like Lampard, Rooney and Steven Gerrard before him, he’d become the kind of player continental giants like Real Madrid and Barcelona would soon try to pry away from the Premier League.
Except Kane hasn’t been that player since the 2018 season ended, and perhaps even before then.
Last season, Kane scored 13 non-penalty goals, a total that’s been matched by the likes of Yakubu, Gabriel Agbonlahor, Andy Carroll, Peter Odemwingie and Grant Holt. Given Tottenham’s lackluster performance in the second half of the previous Premier League season and their struggles to start the 2019-20 edition, there are plenty of questions surrounding the future of their manager, Mauricio Pochettino, and ever-present stars such as Christian Eriksen, Jan Vertonghen and Toby Alderweireld, who all have just a year remaining on their contracts. But the most important question for the club going forward might actually be this one: What are they going to get from Harry Kane?
Here is Kane’s season-by-season goal and expected-goal production, per 90 minutes:
And here’s his shot output:
What can we take from this? Outside of 2017-18, Kane’s underlying performance has remained impressively consistent. In his four other full seasons as a starter (not counting this partial season) he took around the same number of shots of roughly the same quality. The reason that 2016-17’s goal-scoring efficiency matches, and actually improves on, ’17-18 is that Kane couldn’t stop picking out the corners.
According to TruMedia’s post-shot xG model, Kane’s shooting (i.e., where he placed the ball on the goal frame) added a whopping 0.2 xG to his shots per 90 minutes. Finishing, though, is unpredictable from year to year and most players regress toward their xG numbers, so Kane was able to reach the same heights the next year because of the massive increase in shots. The year before produced world-class results on an unsustainable process, and it seemed as if he’d figured out a way to make the results stick.
That, of course, hasn’t happened.
Just look at the massive drop-off after the 2017-18 season. Last season, Kane posted the lowest non-penalty shot, goal and xG rates of his career. Per 90 minutes, he took the fifth-most shots in the league, registered the ninth-most xG and scored the 12th-most goals. He has played only 360 minutes so far this season, but they haven’t provided any signs that the trend lines will start pointing in the other direction, as his shots and xG per 90 are both significantly lower than they were last year.
This is Kane’s shot map from the ’17-18 season. Green dots are goals, and the bigger the dot, the higher the xG:
And this is how last year and this year have looked, combined:
Translating the above, Kane has cut down on the shots from outside the box, which is probably a good thing given how few of them have gone in. And he’s still getting a healthy number of chances from the edge of the six-yard box and in. Except, superstars can’t subsist on a “tap-ins only” diet. So many of Kane’s shots between the six- and 18-yard box have disappeared. Those shots are hard to get, given how that area is always packed with bodies, but basically every elite goal scorer consistently finds a way — whether through intelligent off-ball movement, tight-area footwork to create space, a quick release to get off a shot or all three — to produce a high volume of attempts from that space.
For reference, take a look at Robert Lewandowski‘s shot map from last season in the Bundesliga:
The most hopeful explanation for Kane’s decline is injuries. Normalizing his production to per-90-minutes should eliminate the effects of lost time, but Kane has arguably been playing through injuries for the past 18 months and it has affected his performance even when he has made it onto the field. (Worse still, his fitness hasn’t always lined up with teammates, with Dele Alli battling injuries and Eriksen having endured a tough start to the season.)
More from Ryan O’Hanlon: – Sergino Dest is proof of U.S. Soccer’s progress – Who has been the Premier League’s best attacker, 2010-19? – Why being good at set pieces can win you trophies
In March 2018, Kane injured his ankle in a game against Bournemouth. He’d scored 24 goals in his first 28 games of the season but managed only six more after missing two games because of that ankle knock. Then, rather than resting for the summer, he played a full slate of World Cup matches for England. Last season, he missed eight games with a torn ankle ligament in January and then another nine with another ligament injury in April. He rushed back to start the Champions League final and was completely ineffective, registering just a solitary attempt on goal in garbage time after Liverpool had gone up 2-0.
With two Nations League games with England this past summer, Kane hasn’t really had much time to heal. If he ever gets that, maybe we’ll see his numbers start to tick back up for his club.
However, when asked, Tottenham have been quick to insist that Kane isn’t hurt, and with each passing game, the best version of Kane gets further away.
Kane did add four assists last year to make up for some of the decline in scoring. However, all of his non-shot production — chances created, through balls played, passes completed in the final third — has remained relatively stable or declined slightly. It’s possible that the succession of injuries means the old Kane will never come back. It’s also possible that Kane just experienced two career years in succession — one via his finishing and one via his overall performance — and his true level is somewhere around what we saw last year. A very good Premier League player, but not an all-conquering, world-class attacker.
Given the financial resources of their closest competitors, in England and in Europe, Tottenham must have worried about losing their superstar one day. It’s doubtful, though, that they ever envisioned it would happen quite like this.
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#Premier League#Harry Kane has declined over the past year. Should Spurs fans be concerned? Harry Ka
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Week Nine [11 Weeks - Anderstair Challenge]
[masterpost]
[read it on Ao3]
Chapter Summary: Merrill turns up unexpectedly. Anders is instrumental in what happens next
“The way you flirt is shameful,” Alistair laughs.
I smirk. “I’m just trying to get Dorian to like me—I’m meeting him where he lives.”
“I heard that,” yells Dorian from the other room. I can see his shadow in the background behind Alistair’s head.
We snicker together like children.
“...and I don’t like you at all,” adds Dorian.
“He doesn’t mean that,” says Alistair. “If anything, that means he loves you—I’ve heard him say it to Cullen a million times.”
“I heard that too!” yells Dorian.
“God… your hearing is bionic!” Alistair shouts back.
In the week since our brunch together, I’ve committed myself to being friends with Dorian. I’m going to try to be Cullen’s friend too, but I think that might be more of a challenge. If I can just tolerate him, that will be a win.
“So… what are you three doing tonight?” I ask.
“Three?” he laughs. “There are four of us here… Mia was the guest of honor at our dinner party this evening.”
I laugh.
“How old is she again?” I ask.
“She’s like 2?” He doesn’t sound sure.
“When we have kids, I hope you keep track of their ages better…” I blurt.
The expression that washes over his face is halfway between elation and horror. That’s sort of how I feel about kids too.
“Do you think about that a lot?” he asks. He’s speaking really quietly now. I wonder if he’s afraid Dorian is still listening.
I nod. “I do, actually.”
“Me too…”
We smile. Although facetime isn’t a perfect approximation of what he looks like, I can see how adorably happy he is—that’s good enough for me.
“Anyway… I better get going… I need to check in with the gang—they’re at the Hanged Man waiting for me.”
Alistair grimaces.
“What?”
“Is Hawke going to be there?” he asks.
I bite my bottom lip. “Yeah… he is.”
“Great…”
“Love… he apologized, you know… he didn’t mean for things to go that way…”
“It doesn’t matter,” Alistair argues. “It means he has that lurking inside, somewhere deep.”
“No it doesn’t. He was just drunk and confused.” I don’t really believe it, though. When I think about that night, I know something wasn’t right. I’m just not sure what. In fact, I’m not sure how much of it was me. That’s the really scary part.
“Fine… just… call me when you get home, okay?” he asks.
I raise an eyebrow. I’m not about to let him make me feel guilty about hanging out with my friends.
“Okay… that was stupid and possessive,” he amends. “Just call me because you love me and because you miss me… not because you have to.”
“Sounds good. Bye, Love.” I hang up.
When I get to the Hanged Man, I’m met by someone I don’t expect. Merrill is waiting for me outside. She’s hiding in the shadows, arms wound around her waist. She’s so thin that she could probably make a complete circle with her forearms. I know she’s always been thin, but in this scenario, she seems skeletal—it scares me.
“Hi, Andy,” she says. Her voice is high and pinched.
“Hi…” I rush up to her and put my hands on her shoulders. “How are you?”
She starts to smile, but it’s forced. She eventually settles on a shrug.
“When did you get back?” I ask.
“Just this morning,” she answers. “I thought about going to the house straight away, but I kept stopping myself…”
I nod, but I actually don’t know what she means. I haven’t heard any of this from her side, after all. It gives me an idea.
“Hey, Merrill… let’s not go in there…”
She squints at me.
“...not yet. Let’s go have dinner at that Chinese place around the corner and try to sort through this… before…”
She nods. “Okay, let’s go.”
We don’t say anything else until we’re seated with piping hot cups of tea in our hands. She inhales the steam and sighs with effort. It looks like every breath hurts her. I remember that feeling—possibly even more clearly than I remember the things Hawke has been going through.
“So… start at the beginning,” I prompt.
She clears her throat and looks up at me through her eyelashes. Her eyes are ridiculously big—were they always like that?
“I have been unhappy for a long time,” she begins.
“Really?” I blurt. I don’t mean for it to come out like an accusation, but it sort of sounds like one. I’m just really surprised. I never saw any signs.
“Yeah… I need to do more and less,” she says.
“What?”
She laughs bitterly. “That doesn’t make any sense… let me begin again: I want to do more with my life. I’m not happy teaching anymore. I want to work for some kind of a foundation or nonprofit organization.”
“Oh… that sounds wonderful,” I interrupt. “What kind of a nonprofit?”
She smiles. “Something for LGBT youth, maybe… or homeless children… maybe the intersection of those two groups…”
I nod. “Sorry to interrupt.”
She shakes her head and swallows. “It’s okay. So anyway… I’ve been thinking about that lately… and I want to do something big like that…”
I nod.
“...and I tried to tell Garrett that…” she pauses, “And he says it’s great—that he thinks I’d be great at that—but he hasn’t done anything to help me achieve that idea… I mean… it isn’t as if I’ve asked for much: just a little support; maybe some name-dropping with some of his mother’s friends…”
I purse my lips. I’m trying to reserve judgement until she’s had a chance to explain the whole thing.
“...but he isn’t really behind me. He’s too wrapped up in his own stupid things: taking care of his family business; doing favors for people he barely knows…” she says. “He can’t even keep the house together when I’m not there.”
“But, Merrill… he would never stand in your way—” I start to interrupt.
She shakes her head vehemently. “That’s just it… he won’t stand in my way, but he won’t stand beside me, either.”
I don’t have a good argument for that. Hawke, despite all his great qualities, isn’t much of a trailblazer. I’ve often thought that life just happens to him… I’ve even been instrumental in that; we all have. We make choices that change our collective lives and he rolls with the punches. In some ways, it’s his best quality… just not right now—not when Merrill needs him.
“He isn’t ready, Andy…not for this,” says Merrill sadly. “Maybe he never will be…”
I feel my head shake without my express consent. It hurts to hear her say that—like every relationship in the world is just doomed to irreconcilable differences.
“Don’t, Andy…” She reaches her hand across the table to touch the back of my forearm. “Don’t worry… this doesn’t mean we can’t be friends anymore.”
“So you’ve decided already, then?” I ask.
She nods. “I wasn’t sure until right now…”
The rest of the night passes painfully. As soon as Hawke sees Merrill at the Hanged Man, his whole face lights up, which makes me want to die a little—I know what’s coming. They go back to their place together to sort things out, but I can imagine what happens. I think Isabela can too, once she catches of glimpse of my face. I’m terrible at poker.
“So it’s over?” she asks, once they’re gone.
I shrug, but we both already know. This is the end of an era.
Fenris shows up a few minutes later. He sits between us and kisses Isabela’s head. At least their relationship seems to be functioning.
“How are you, Andy?” asks Fenris. “I haven’t seen you in an age.”
“I’m okay… this whole thing with Merrill was pretty shocking…” I sigh. “But other than that, I’m great. How are you?”
Fenris smiles. “I’m great… I’m about to start construction on a really cool new house…”
He tells me all about it—it’s ultramodern, situated right off the Boston Commons. It’s estimated to cost over five million when it’s done. Who has that much money and why are they spending it on houses?
We all laugh and drink and—for a moment—manage to forget that our two other best friends are having the worst night of their adult lives. Eventually, we have to go home, though, and reality settles back in on the sidewalk.
“Andy?” says Isabela. She wraps her hand around my waist and pulls me into a side hug. “I love you and no matter what happens with them, they’re both going to keep loving you too.”
Fenris nods. It’s the closest he’ll ever come to saying something like that and it means a lot to me. Each one of his gestures has more weight because he uses so few words. Stoicism has its perks, I guess.
“I love you guys, too.”
Back inside my apartment, I look at my phone for the first time all night. The group text has two new additions.
Hawke: We wanted to tell you that we’re not getting back together. Merrill is moving out. Don’t be sad—we’re okay. We want to give each other time to grow and change… and it doesn’t make our relationship mean any less just because it didn’t last. We were really important for each other. Now we’re moving on.
Merrill: I’m going out to San Fran for a while. I hope that all of you will come visit me… and I’m not giving up the group text. I love all of you more than you’ll ever know.
Wow. This is the most mature breakup I’ve ever heard of. Of course, it’s going to hurt—I’m sure they’re already hurting like crazy. But still… they’re thanking each other for the time. They’re moving into the future.
I set my coat on the back of a chair and type.
Anders: I love both of you so much. I’m in awe of how well you’re handling this. Please let me know if there’s any way I can help you.
Merrill: I need help packing…
Isabela: oh… I think I’m going to be out of town… whenever that happens. ;)
Fenris: I’ll be there… I’ll bring Bela too…
I laugh.
Anders: I’ll help Fen wrangle her.
I’m super exhausted, but there’s one more person I need to contact. I get into bed and facetime Alistair.
“Hello?” he croaks. It’s really late; he must have been sleeping.
“Hi? Sorry to wake you.”
He shifts and moves the camera so I can see his face. He looks so sleepy.
“Is everything okay?” he asks. He blinks and manages to seem slightly more alert.
“Yeah… totally…. I just wanted to tell you how much I love you.”
He smiles. “That’s nice.”
“And…” I swallow hard. “Hawke and Merrill broke up—for real.”
His eyes widen. “Wow. really?”
“Yeah… but it wasn’t bad—in fact, I think it might be good… they might need this,” I say. “They became different people and needed to move on.”
He nods. “I’m sorry, though… it’s always hard to see things change.”
I nod. “Yeah, it is.”
He looks at me expectantly. “What else did you want to say?”
I laugh. “You know me way too well…”
“Come on, tell me.”
“I just want to make sure this doesn’t happen to us. I want us to be solid…” I say.
He shrugs. “I mean… we’ve talked about this before: there are no guarantees…. But I’ll tell you this, Andy… I love you and I think that we are learning to grow and change together.” He pauses for emphasis, “...and that’s the key.”
I nod. “I love you, Alistair… just two weeks left.”
“Yup…” He sighs. “Speaking of which, I think I’m going to be able to sleep there in 13 days… I won’t have all my stuff yet, but I’ll have you and a bed, so…”
“Perfect. I’m going to make a paper chain link countdown.”
He laughs. “Goodnight, Andy.”
“Goodnight.”
#anderstair#anders x alistair#hawke x merrill#break up#make up#dragon age fanfic#ongoing series#coffee shop universe
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WIG REVIEW: TWIN PEAKS - THE RETURN
The awful wigs you like are going to come back in style this summer! Twin Peaks, land of mighty good coffee and awful awful wigs are back, and with them some new bad wigs that we waited 25 years for!
As there are 18 episodes, I will be updating this post as new episodes air (and adjusting if the show’s wigs wurq as a whole or not). Now let’s journey back to the Black Lodge and discuss:
EPISODE 1
Good Dale is still stuck in the Black Lodge, while Bad Dale is driving a fancy car, hanging with teenage randos, and having a party in the front (and back!) with the worst male wig this side of John Travolta’s everyday life.
This wig is the kind of thing you’d pick up at Ricky’s to be a shaggy vampire for Halloween. OOF. The only thing more disturbing than the wig, is of course Special Agent Dale Cooper’s crispy tan which is the second most disturbing tan by an evil dude on tv (Trump's still #1).
However, Bad Dale’s new life did lead us to the clear star of the show: BEULLA! Glamour, fashion, and beauty wrapped into one.
Elsewhere in non-wig storylines, some random teenager in NYC is getting it on with Grace from The Nanny and getting mauled to death by glass box ghosts (YOU HAD ONE JOB TO DO, IDIOT!), some nosy neighbor in South Dakota is implicating Matthew Lillard in a librarian murder, Ashley Judd is helping Tony from West Side Story run the Great Northern and Dr. Jacoby is serving double sunglass reveals while getting some sweet new shovels. Obvs? Meanwhile, the Log Lady, now the victim of female hair loss, decides to get on the horn about Dale Cooper. I have to say, this might be the one wig that wurqs in the episode and it’s not technically a wig but a baldcap with some wisps on it. Still, carry on Log Lady - please never change no matter how much hair you lose. Your Sally Jessy Raphael eyewear is still everything.
The recipient of the Log Lady’s call is none other than Hawk, the most credible member of the Twin Peak’s sheriff service. Michael Horse’s glorious locks are obviously not a wig but let us all luxuriate in them regardless. And let us NOT miss Michael Ontkean who showed his homophobic truth by trying to block his gay movie Making Love from being a part of the documentary masterpiece The Celluloid Closet. SASHAY AWAY FOREVER!
EPISODE 2
This episode doesn’t offer us much more in the way of wigs, but we do get far more intimate with Bad Dale’s awful wig.
This look is decidedly tan Glenn Danzig all the way.
The most upsetting reveal about this wig is that it has a half ponytail involved. NO THANK YOU.
Back in the Black Lodge, Good Dale meets up with old friends Leland, Mike, and Laura Palmer herself - none of which are wearing wigs and none of which seem to have aged at all (though Laura is moonlighting as a lamp so maybe that’s why). Good Dale also meets up with a wise Tim Burton tree who explains that Bad Dale has to come back to the Black Lodge in order for Good Dale to leave. Seems legit, but unfortunately Bad Dale is busy murdering his girlfriend.
Sorry, gurl.
We end the episode at the roadhouse where an ubercool indie band is playing for some reason. The lead singer has a pretty wiggy look but all signs point to a dye job.
We also see the triumphant return of Sherry, whose (wigless) salty mom posse involves none other than Gia Carides, aka LIZ EFFING HOLT FROM STRICTLY BALLROOM! YAYS! CAN I DRINK WITH YOU GUYS?
EPISODE 3
We begin with Good Dale shape shifting through space, meeting a nice lady with no eyes who falls into the void and another lady who points us in the direction of a steampunk electrical plug to the outside world. But do we want to go out there?
We soon discover that the “real world” involves another Cooper doppelganger - Nevada’s own Dougie - who wears a mustard-colored blazer, knows a nice prostitute, vomits creamed corn, and has a terrible wig.
Seriously, I don’t know if the wig budget on this show was given to eye-covering prosthetics or what but clearly they skimped on the wigs. Just seriously depressing stuff - I’ve seen more believably realistic wigs in haunted houses. Speaking of haunted houses, Dougie gets whisked into the Black Lodge and implodes into a sea of black smoke (I finally understand Lost?) Regardless, bye bye, terrible wig!
Elsewhere, Bad Dale and his bad wig are trying not to barf their way back to the Black Lodge while living through the worst Lincoln commercial ever. It’s unclear where Bad Dale ended up, but Good Dale shapeshifts his way back into Dougie’s life - for better or worse?
Finally, Hawk gives us the best “do not disturb” sign ever (donut disturb 4evr) while he and his luscious locks try to run the Twin Peaks sheriff’s department basically with absolutely no help from anyone else. Ok maybe the donuts helped.
EPISODE 4
Good Dale Cooper is living his life as Dougie Jones, whose son is future/current(?) cult leader, Sonny Jim Jones. Cooper is learning to do everything again, from dressing himself to drinking coffee while assisted by frazzled wife, Naomi Watts. Meanwhile, Bad Dale Cooper has been discovered covered in creamed corn in South Dakota and his old boss, Gordon Cole (as played by David Lynch) has to look into the matter, but not without an assist from everyone’s favorite trans FBI agent, Denise Bryson.
Denise, like a fine wine, has aged well. As strong and confident as ever, and looking damn fierce.
Compared to the wig David Duchovny wore in the original series, this wig is a serious upgrade. Defrizzed and oh so quaffed, it’s a dignified thing of beauty.
We do get into a grey area here, wig-wise, however. It has been my intent on this blog to never review wigs that we know as an audience to be wigs (thus why I sadly never review RuPaul’s Drag Race). Denise’s wig in the original series was definitely a wig within the narrative of the show, since Denise (nee Dennis) had only recently come to the conclusion that he was trans and started donning a wig and dressing as a woman.
25 years later, who is to say if Denise is wearing a wig or if we are to believe that this is supposed to be her own hair? Far be it for us to tell Denise what to do with her coiffure so it becomes difficult to judge this as a wig or not. If we are supposed to believe it is a wig, then yes - it’s a good wig within the narrative! If we are supposed to believe it is hair...well it’s not perfect. It certainly looks like a wig, albeit a good wig. As I’ve said time and time again, only if a wig looks like real hair does it truly wurq.
Still, as a character, Denise WURQS so amen to her regardless.
And can I get an amen for Wally Brando? Wigless though he may be, he is a the only possible child of Andy and Lucy. May your shadow always be with us.
EPISODE 5
We begin this episode as Good Dale Cooper tries to navigate the world in the body of Dougie Jones. For some reason, no one is bothered by the fact that Dougie is basically a walking zombie, from his frazzled wife to all of his coworkers.
Just a guy super stoked for coffee with little ability to function in society - nothing to see here!
Back in Twin Peaks, a wigless Shelly and Norma are looking FINE AS HELL and seem to not have aged a day.
Also Shelly’s daughter (perfectly cast as Amanda Seyfried) has an asshole boyfriend (as played by the asshole brother from Get Out, who is really making a name for himself in the world of asshole characters).
Oh and obviously, Dr. Jacoby runs an extreme lefty webseries out of his cabin, and whose #1 fan is obviously Nadine:
Who is still lookin’ like the spectacular nutbar we all love.
The only wig of the week is the nightmare on top of Bad Dale’s head. Even behind bars, this wig is wreaking havoc much in the way Bad Dale is hisself! Nope.
EPISODE 6
Most of this episode concerns itself with the increasingly poor decisions of Dougie Jones and with every misadventure, I just long for Good Dale Cooper to wake the hell up! We are also introduced to a slew of new characters. Twin Peaks is truly beginning to get as sweaty with characters as Game of Thrones and winter is friggin’ coming.
We meet Bathazar Getty, whose early career was spent being an off-brand Liev Schreiber and who has somehow morphed into an off-brand Henry Rollins. He played some coin magic on off-brand young Nicolas Cage (who is in a dead heat for worst Twin Peaks character with Deputy Chad).
We also revisit our favorite trailer park manager, Harry Dean Stanton, who is an ageless angel.
The only wig this week comes in the form of a lounge lizard played by none other than Laura Dern.
We are only given one scene with this wig so I don’t have the information necessary to review it properly. In other words - if this wig is supposed to be real hair, it is obviously terrible. But if it is supposed to be a wig as I suspect since David Lynch lounge lizards are usually wig-wearers (see: Isabella Rossellini in Blue Velvet), then whatever - you do you, Laura Dern!
(And you always do.)
EPISODE 7
Ugh, wake up Good Dale Cooper! The boring misadventures of Dougie Jones continue in this episode, though he does disarm a little person assassin “like a cobra” so I guess this is progress.
Meanwhile, Gordon Cole visits Diane and we don’t get much more information about her or her wig. Though Diane in general is a mystery. Throughout the original series, she was a faceless secretary that Dale sent daily messages to. Now, whether or not she is trying to pass this platinum wig off as real hair remains the #1 mystery of Twin Peaks. But I’m guessing it’s a wig (within the narrative of Twin Peaks) so whatever. It’s a bad wig allowed to be bad.
Though now that we have seen her retro cool apartment, I think I know Diane’s backstory:
She’s obviously a latter-day Iona (from Pretty in Pink) who, rather than dating a yuppie (yuck!) decides to take a secretarial job for the FBI while the record store industry dwindled in the early 90s, stopped hanging out exclusively with teenagers, and started calling herself Diane. MAKES PERFECT SENSE.
Both chicks have an affinity for platinum wigs, apartments with Atomic/kitschy details, and DRAMA. Well that’s one mystery solved! You’re welcome, internet. #prettyinpeaks
Anyhoo, Diane (nee Iona) visits Bad Dale in the clink and it was a regular wigout party of nonsense.
I feel like when two bad wigs meet like this, something meaningful should happen, like the Black Lodge imploding or getting to spend more than 5 minutes with any of the original characters.
Instead, we are gifted like 20 minutes of Ashley Judd (bless her, but STILL) following a mysterious sound around the Great Northern. And seeing the roadhouse being swept for what must have been 3 hours.
We end with Bad Dale getting sprung from the clink by uttering the magic word: STRAWBERRY! Not to be confused with Carol Channing’s magic word, RASPBERRY. Watch out, world: Bad Dale and his bad wig are on the loose!
EPISODE 8
We have so many questions going into this episode, but before any of them can be answered, we have to hear from THE Nine in Nails! The dream of the nineties is alive in Twin Peaks, and this part was a damn nightmare. NEXT!
Bad Dale Cooper, fresh from being sprung from jail, gets shot down by his partner in crime. Is this the last we will FINALLY see of him and his horrendous wig? Probably not, because some ash covered garbage people come over and seem to revive them. Who are these ashy garbage dudes? For answers, we (OBVIOUSLY) travel to B&W New Mexico in 1945.
There, an atomic bomb gives life to these soot monsters, a bug/frog combo, and, of course, BOB!
Meanwhile, in what might (?) be the same steampunk universe where that eyeless lady that Good Cooper encountered that eyeless chick back in Episode 3, our favorite friendly giant and some chick with some serious costume jewelry and eyebrow tweezers watch these ashy garbage dudes and then are gifted a golden blob with the face of Laura Palmer on it.
IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW! J/k j/k I have no idea what is happening. On the wig front, I will say that costume jewelry eyebrow tweezer lady has a pretty sweet finger curl wig.
Fast forwarding to New Mexico in 1956, we meet a young couple who deliver some incredibly stilted dialogue at one another. Their costumes also suggest a high school play that is set in the 1950s but they only go shopping for costumes at the GAP. We’ve all been there. Doesn’t wurq. Also, I’m not sure what pincurl nonsense is happening on this chick’s head but it is neither historically accurate or attractive. NOPE.
Anyway, ash zombie #1 decides to go on a quest for a cigarette light, which obviously turns into a bloodbath.
I will say this much: this terrible 50s wig deserved to GO. All hail ash zombies!��
EPISODE 9
Bad Dale Cooper lives! All hail ash zombies?? I don’t know if it’s the zombie makeover or what but this is the BEST this wig has every looked.
Sadly, this is short-lived as Bad Dale Cooper meets up with his accomplices/Academy Award Nominated Actors Tim Roth and Jennifer Jason Leigh and this terrible wig gets cleaned up and its half pony tale back and it looks awful again. UGH. Side note: Tim Roth’s denim jacket with the cut off arms IS THE LEWK.
Back in Twin Peaks, Lucy and Andy are chair shopping (#TeamBeigeChair) and the sheriff A-team (SCREW YOU AND YOUR LUNCH, CHAD!!!) are doing some detecting. They pay Bobby’s mom a visit, where she reveals a super cool chair hiding place (maybe get this chair, Lucy and Andy?) and a secret message from beyond. Dun dun dun!
And as always, Diane and her Pretty in Pink Iona wig are KILLING IT as always in fashion and correct opinions. It still remains a supreme mystery as to if Diane is trying to pass this off as real hair, but regardless: let the lady smoke. She’s been through enough! It IS a f*cking morgue!
In the end, we meet some teenage heroin addicts/vampires(?) with awful hair which is likely just awful hair and not wigs. They also have serious skin ailments that I never want to see again. Let’s just maybe never see them again. Please?
EPISODE 10
We are officially more than halfway through this series and no closer to getting rid of Dougie Jones in favor of Good Dale Cooper. Wake the hell up, Coop! (Tho dang, you’re looking good - and Janey E agrees!) Otherwise, this episode is pretty much all about domestic abuse and its witnesses. Seen here: a wigless Harry Dean Stanton having some guitar “me” time which was ruined by Shelly’s daughter and her terrible boyfriend...
Can you guys please be quiet so HDS can play his damn guitar in peace?!?! Side note: domestic abuse begets domestic abuse: does this remind anyone of Shelly and Leo?
But the scumbag of the week (and the millennium?) definitely goes to Richard Horne. Not to be outdone by hit-and-run child murder, this week he gave us trailer park murder and familial abuse/robbery all while the Teddy Ruxpin of nightmares above must bear (get it?) witness. Oh and yes - we see what you did there with that glowing orb head, David Lynch.
Of course, scumbags love company and OF COURSE Richard Horne is in cahooks with Deputy Scumbag, Chad, who he asks to intercept his trailer park murder victim’s blackmail letter. WE HATE YOU CHAD. Luckily, Lucy is totally on to Chad. #TeamBeigeChair4Ever
Back in Vegas (UGH), Tom Sizemore is setting Dougie up with the help of these wigless, flaky cocktail waitresses. The fact that these three didn’t somehow break into song sorta surprised me.
The mazel of the week def goes to Nadine, who finally has her silent drape empire in the form of her storefront, RUN SILENT RUN DRAPES. Way to make your lifegoals a reality, gurlfriend! She’s also obsessed with Dr. Jacoby’s vid-blog, but obvs.
We also get some more news from the Log Lady - Laura Palmer is the ONE! Whatever that means? It has been brought to my attention that my previous assessment of this being a good wig may be false - the actress who portrayed her, Catharine E. Coulson, died of cancer shortly after reprising this role. So this is likely her actual hair. I stand corrected! Just goes to show you that just when you think you’ve found a good Twin Peaks wig - it turns out to be real hair. Nothing is as it seems in Twin Peaks but we can always count on the continuity of bad wigs? With this new information - this episode is entirely wigless! Why am I even writing this?!?!
Maybe just to rejoice in the epic performance of Rebekah del Rio (no relation to Bianca, sadly) who we all know and love from Mullholland Drive. Bitch is in straight up Black Lodge cosplay and it WURQS.
EPISODE 11
The more we watch this show, the fewer and fewer wigs we seem to get. And the more we realize we are just stuck with Dougie Jones. Wake up, Good Coops!
Anyway, this week the domestic violence from last week’s episode got particularly EXTRA when Amanda Seyfried decided to amp her Lifetime Movie life up to 11 and get a gun, demand her mom come over with her car, take the car, almost run her mom over, and go shoot at her two-timing, d-bag of a husband. I seriously think I saw this movie starring Tori Spelling a few different times on Lifetime but David Lynch makes it SO MUCH MORE ARTY.
Great hiding place, you guys! Also, why yes that IS GERSTEN HAYWARD, aka Lara Flynn Boyle’s lil sis who is great at piano!
This did lead to a pretty sweet family reunion at the RR though seriously, Bobby, just arrest your daughter’s husband already.
This reunion was briefly interrupted by coin enthusiast/fake Henry Rollins, Balthazar Getty who OF COURSE is going out with Shelly. You make bad dude choices, Shelly! Why am I suddenly rooting for Bobby?!?!
Oh and also there was a sudden diner shootout followed by passenger seat exorcism, because: Twin Peaks.
The only wig of the week was brought to us by pillar of effervescence, Diane. The jury is still out (and will forever be out?!) on if she is trying to pass this wig off as real hair, but I give up: you just do you, Diane.
And also please continue to sit on stools while the rest of the world sits on chairs. Is that thing from Blaine? Anyway, you’ll always be on a pedestal to us.
After an some map detective work from Hawk and another call from the Log Lady, an otherworldly vortex sighting, and an unfortunate Matthew Lillard cranial injury, we end the episode in the weirdest Se7en parody ever but hey: there’s always room for cherry pie?
Oh, and god bless you and your fabulous makeover, random casino garbagelady! You look so sparkly!
EPISODE 12
Why am I still updating this blog post? Why am I still watching this show? Why is it taking everyone five extra minutes to say what they need to say and why am I falling asleep? These are all questions I had during this episode. Not much happens - and slowly. We did get to see some old, familiar faces, though. Our favorite alcoholic, Sarah Palmer, had a grocery store meltdown about turkey jerky (AS ONE DOES) and we finally got a visit from Audrey Horne!
Sadly, it appears that Audrey did NOT marry eyebrow plucking enthusiast Billy Zane in favor of a really grumpy little person named Charlie. Audrey HATES Charlie and all his goddamned paperwork, especially when she needs him to get up and go to the roadhouse with her to find her missing lover, NO MATTER HOW TIRED HE IS.
UGH, Charlie. As with all scenes in this episode, this scene is about 10 minutes too long, and at no point was there any mention of how Audrey’s son killed a kid and tried to kill a lady (CHARLIE IS GOING TO HAVE SO MUCH PAPERWORK TO DO OVER THAT). However, I would have gladly watched Audrey Horne dance to a jukebox for 10 minutes.
Speaking of scenes that go on too long - THIS BITCH. Seriously, how long does it take you to GET THE EFF OUT of a room when Miguel Ferrer has some important business with David Lynch?!
The only wig in the episode remains to be the enigma that is Diane’s wig. I have previously stated that we may never get the information we need to judge this wig and if it is trying to be real hair or not so again: I give up. You just keep doing you, Diane. LET’S ROCK!
EPISODE 13
EPISODE 13 YOU GUYS. I have been updating this long-ass blog post FOREVER and we’re no closer to getting rid of Dougie Jones!! He is even now gifting his family with nice cars and gym sets so it feels like he’s not going anywhere. WHY WHY WHY. Wake the HELL UP, DALE COOPER!!!!
Meanwhile, Bad Dale Cooper is looking rougher and rougher ever since his Woodsman reincarnation - he is now truly a garbage person. And his wig is still absolute trash.
This week did test our loyalties in that we found ourselves in an arm wrestling match of the damned and were sorta rooting for Bad Coop against some other garbage people. Coop was victorious (sorry about your face, bro), but with that wig, we are all still losers.
In other bizarre hair news, what the hell is up with Ed’s hair?! This is NOT a wig but I really want to know who was driving the train with this hair “style” if you can even call it that. Looks like some pretty good soup, though.
Oh, and apparently James can sing in falsetto? Wonders never cease. Still no sign of Lara Flynn Boyle who may be our only salvation at this point. We are all Sarah Palmer watching the same boxing match over and over again hoping for salvation. Maybe next week?
EPISODE 14
We are on the last lap of this show, and things are (sorta, kinda) coming together. Thanks (of course?) in part to the oldest Bond girl, Monica Bellucci, and the prophetic dream Gordon Cole had about her. The puzzle pieces seem to be fitting now. Thanks, Monica! Oh but wait - WHO IS THE DREAMER?! With every answered question comes a new question.
Luckily, Diane is on the case and ready to drop some KNOWLEDGE AND GLAMOUR on everyone. Like her wig, Diane is an enigma. Unlike her wig (which is still not identified as a wig or not within the narrative - SIGH), Diane is full of super useful information. Dougie and Janey E you say? Oh she just so happens to be Diane’s estranged half-sister! OBVS! Not since Game of Thrones have we had such a convenient familial lineage. Just don’t eff it up, Las Vegas FBI!
In other law abiding news, Lucy and her gravity defying hair are still the best and she and Andy once took a trip to Bora Bora! UGH seriously guys - bring back Wally Brando. Oh, and the worst sheriff (and second worst character), CHAD, was finally read for filth and locked up for being the worst - just in time for the good sheriffs to take a ROAD TRIP!
Like most hikes in Twin Peaks, this one involved beautiful scenics, paternal nostalgia, putting dirt in your pockets (OR ELSE), discovering a naked woman with no eyes, and teleporting via creepy vortex into a B&W steampunk nightmarescape and hanging with a giant. I can’t wait for the TripAdvisor review!
Andy was the lucky recipient of the teleport trip and seriously: can this dude PLEASE STAR IN A BIOPIC OF STAN LAUREL? Just saying. Anyway, he met up with our favorite jolly (non-green) giant who sadly didn’t start singing the most appropriate Dolly Parton song for the moment: “Me and Little Andy” but instead revealed his name is not ??? but really THE FIREMAN. Seems legit. Andy also got some cool recaps of past episodes via a steampunk skylight and returned back to earth to keep that eyeless lady safe.
Speaking of Dolly Parton songs, why was “I Will Always Love You” not playing during this scene??
Lots of missed opportunities, song-wise, but luckily Lucy had some PJs on hand for the eyeless lady from that time the dog got loose. Seriously, I would love to see an entire TV series about Lucy and Andy’s throwaway lines. Showtime: make this happen.
Despite Lucy’s PJ makeover, eyeless lady still has to be locked up with Chad (UGH) and some drunken guy bleeding from his mouth who may or may not be that dude Billy who Sherilynn Fenn and every rando at the roadhouse is always talking about.
Speaking of random characters, David Lynch decided that he still needs to be introducing new ones so meet British Jimmy, who has a magical glove not unlike basically all Marvel superheroes, a destiny only met in Twin Peaks, and a penchant for revealing his entire backstory when it’s his coworker’s birthday. Welcome to Twin Peaks, rando!
We end with our favorite alcoholic, Sarah Palmer, who just wants to have a goddamned Bloody Mary in peace (DON’T WE ALL) without being verbally assaulted by the new worst character in Twin Peaks: a-hole in the TRUCK YOU shirt. Well truck YOU, bro: Sarah Palmer has a soot monster vortex inside her and will quite literally pull your throat off. Sayonara! This is why it’s safer to drink at home watching violent TV. Lesson learned.
EPISODE 15
Hello from officially the longest blog post on this blog (and maybe in the history of the internet?) Are you guys still there? Are we all still watching? We are officially in the final stretch and things continue to come together....sort of. We begin with Nadine, gold shovel in hand, as she finally digs herself out of her marriage which apparently was still intact after all these years! She finally lets Big Ed go.
Which means Ed and Norma are finally getting hitched! Halleluj! You totally cried about this, admit it. (Sure we cried about Ed’s haircut too but no matter).
Meanwhile, Bad Dale Cooper and his evil, horrible wig are still up to no good. Also his leathery skin is getting worse and worse by the episode. He rolls up to the gas station of ghostmares and tries to get a meet and greet with Phillip Jeffries (aka David Bowie - RIP!)
The gatekeeper is this broad who is definitely giving Beulla (see: Episode 1) a run for her money in the category of AGELESS GLAMOUR.
BD Cooper also runs into our least favorite Twin Peaks resident/his possible son, Richard Horne and tells him to get in the car: road trip! Oh and speaking of residents of Twin Peaks we don’t like, Becky’s husband probably killed hisself?
Speaking of death, Dougie maybe just killed hisself? I mean, it’s a modern miracle that he hasn’t already but seriously: get out the way, bitch! Bring back Good Dale Cooper! If he didn’t kill hisself, I guess we all need to prepare for Dougie’s sequel: Electric Dougieloo
Finally, one of our very FAVORITE Twin Peaks residents, Margaret, aka The Log Lady, bid us adieu (as did Catherine Coulson, the woman who played her.) SOB!
We feel ya, Lucy. (Insert sobbing emojis)
EPISODE 16
We’ve come to the last 3 episodes and everything is coming together. The father-son road trip of the century comes to the only possible ending: with Richard Horne being sent up to a rock to be electrocuted. Sayonara, you terrible person! Oh, and yes: Bad Coop was your dad. See ya!
Bad Coop alerts Diane and her still mysterious wig, and suddenly Diane has an acid flashback to all the bad bad stuff that Bad Coop did to her. She recounts the upsetting tale to Gordon and Co and also reveals one more thing: BITCH IS A TULPA!
And with a bullet to the head, she returns to the Black Lodge to bring it some extra retro fabulousness. Byeeeeeee!
Meanwhile, Dougie Jones (UGH) is in a coma after electrocuting himself. And then, just like that....FINALLY AGENT COOPER WAKES HISSELF UP!
SERIOUSLY.
Also, thanks for the finger sandwiches, Mitchum Bros! Oh and sayonara to Oscar nominees Tim Roth and Jennifer Jason Leigh (and her excellent collection of mini Cheetos bags) during the neighborhood watch shootout of the millennium.
Coop tells the Mitchum Bros to fire up the private jet (seriously thank goodness for these dudes)...he’s headed back to Twin Peaks! Yayys! He also says byeeeee to Janey E and our favorite mini cult leader, Sonny Jim Jones.
Back in Twin Peaks, Audrey and her terrible husband FINALLY made it to the roadhouse where they promptly order martinis (not what I’d order at a roadhouse, but you do you, you fabulous weirdos). The crowd at the roadhouse soon realizes that they are in the presence of dance royalty and promptly and correctly clear the dancefloor so Ms. Horne can DO HER THANG. She does and it’s as dreamy as we remembered it...
Until that dream turns into a DAMN NIGHTMARE and Audrey wakes up in....a mental hospital? An alternate dimension? A remake of The Valley of the Dolls in which she plays Neely O’Hara in rehab (omg someone please make this happen)?! WHO KNOWS?!?!?! WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAAAAAT.
EPISODE 17
It’s come to this: Bad Cooper has made his way to Twin Peaks and Andy is SUPER EXCITED to see him but everyone else has their doubts, especially when the real Coop gives a call from the road.
Meanwhile, terrible terrible Chad somehow manages to escape and tries to shoot Andy, but not if British Jimmy has anything to do with it! He punches through his cell and right into Chad’s face. Side note: why didn’t he just punch through his cell to get out in the first place? Oh well.
Upstairs, Bad Coop tries to shoot Sheriff Truman but not if Lucy has anything to do with it, and gurlfriend shoots him and saves the day (#TeamBeigeChair4Ever). Then Coop and Gordon and Co both have perfectly timed entrances just as Bob the Blob emerges from Bad Coop. The rest of the scene has Coop’s superimposed face on it (sure?) as British Jimmy fulfills his destiny of punching Bob out of existence. Also: British Jimmy is totally gonna have his own Netflix Marvel spin-off show, right? Also Jim Belushi is all of us during this scene.
And Andy brings the eyeless lady to Coop in time for her to morph into...
DIANE IN A RED WIG! Sure, why not, right? I guess we know she is the real Diane because of her wig makeover?? Or the fact that she immediately makes out with Coop? WHO KNOWS?! I’m not even sure if we are supposed to believe that this terrible wig is real hair so why am I even typing this?! WHATEVER WE’VE MADE IT THIS FAR LET’S JUST KEEP GOING.
Anyway, Coop, Diane and Gordon go to visit David Bowie in teapot form (yes I just that sentence) and Coop is teleported back to 1989 where we get some sweet B&W flashbacks of Fire Walk With Me scenes showing Laura Palmer about to get herself murdered. But this time, Coop is there to save her! What what what?! Yes, this show is maybe about to rewrite history? Oh no nevermind - Laura was totally kidnapped away by...the forest? Seems legit.
EPISODE 18
YOU GUYS WE MADE IT TO THE FINAL EPISODE! I still have no idea what the hell is going on with the wigs or otherwise but whatever. We get some more flashbacks to the original series, except no one finds Laura’s body. Curious. Then we see Bad Coop in the Black Lodge turning into a golden nugget (SASHAY AWAY TERRIBLE TERRIBLE WIG) and then morphing into a Dougie tulpa - congrats Janey E and Sonny Jim Jones?
Back in the forest, Coop still can’t find Laura but he does find Diane and her terrible red wig. Close enough? Anyway, they take a roadtrip to some random electrical wires where they shapeshift into a different dimension where they go to a hotel and have the most uncomfortable consensual/not consensual sex scene this side of Straw Dogs.
In the morning, Diane is gone and Coop and the hotel seem different. Coop must go out in search of some coffee at the local diner, where he also has to beat up some cowboy scum because sure - we have time for that.
Anyway, he finally finds what he’s been looking for: LAURA PALMER! Oh except she isn’t Laura Palmer; her name is Carrie Page and she’s never heard of Laura Palmer but she DID just murder some dude so sure: road trip!
They make it back to Twin Peaks in near utter silence (nope, nothing to talk about...) and Coop gets Carrie/Laura back to her mom’s house!
Everything seems to be going great until they knock on the door...
And this beautiful goddess in thirsty thirsty blowdryed locks answers the door. No, she’s not Sarah Palmer - she’s some bitch named Alice Tremont who doesn’t understand anything Coop is saying (you and me both!) WHAT?!
This is the right house, right? Oh wait - what year is it?
WHO KNOWS?! But Laura/Carrie have a good primal scream about it and: that’s it! Seriously, the whole show is over, leaving us with about as satisfying an ending as The Sopranos or the Gilmore Girls revival.
In the end, we have no clue what happened but all that matters is: the (few) wigs involved were terrible so let’s all just primal scream about it. And if you are still reading this, kudos to you for reading the longest blog post about wigs probably EVER!
VERDICT: DOESN’T WURQ
#twinpeaks#twinpeaksthereturn#twinpeaksreturn#wigwurq#doesntwurq#baddale#dalecooper#loglady#buella4ever#giacarides#lizholt#sonnyjim#wallybrando#denisebryson#offbrandhenryrollinsisthenewoffbrandlievschreiber#lauradernwigs#ihatechad#twinpeakshowtime#dianetwinpeaks#dianeisiona#prettyinpeaks#ashpeople#ashzombies#ashghosts#sootghosts#beigechair#stillhateyouchad#2coopers#coopercooper#itsafuckingmorgue
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Titleless-Chapter 19/A : Debt
"Hey, could you pass me the grinder?" The pipe was in my mouth and my head was out the window, blowing whatever clogged up resin was trapped in the small glass.
She rumbled around in the glove compartment that was becoming way too packed to be any use. When I turned, she had the grinder out in the air next to me, "Here ya go."
"Thanks. Did you see where I put the weed?" I was fumbling around in my pockets only to be disappointed.
This truck wasn't even big. How did things get lost so often? It was a bag of weed. I smelled it, I just couldn't fucking see it. It took me a minute of throwing shit in my truck to notice Charlie holding the plastic bag in air, just like the grinder.
"Sorry, fuck, thank you." I laughed, feeling like a fucking idiot.
"Don't be sorry, Andy, I mean, really." She laughed, and like every fucking time, like more times than I could fucking explain, it was the most beautiful music, and it lifted me out of whatever pit I may have been in, or lifted me higher when I was out. This fantastic girl. This Angel among men.
"Right, sorr-right. Fuck, Charlie, you're too good." The grinder was being loaded as full as I could without disrupting the function of it.
"You put me up way too high, you know that right?" She was using the crank to lower her window down, then she followed with a cigarette.
"I don't think so." There was still some weed caught in the small crevices of the first chamber and I wasn't satisfied with that, so the top went back on, and my hands went back to turning.
"Well, I do, and I'm sure if we did a survey, a lot of people would." She placed a cigarette between her lips then lit it.
"I don't think anyone is doing that survey right now, Charlie; why do you have to fight me on this? I can promise, I can think of ten people right off the bat that prove you're as magnificent as I say you are." Enough weed had passed through to where I felt comfortable packing the first bowl.
"Fine, I'll leave it alone." Which wasn't like her at all, but her smile made me comfortable. It told me she wasn't mad. She wasn't being passive aggressive. She wasn't just subsiding to subside. She knew she was fucking fantastic.
The bowl was packed and for the millionth time, we started smoking. In between hits from the pipe, Charlie would take drags from her cigarette. It made me want one. She made things look so desirable. Kind of in the way when one kid sees another playing with something that they didn't have, all of a sudden, I wanted it.
"What's your first memory?" As she said it, the smoke from her cigarette fell out of her mouth in a steady rhythm.
"What's my first memory?" My breath was sharp, I had just finished clearing the pipe. The bowl wasn't that large; we weren't particularly patient.
"Yeah, like when you look back, what can you remember that was the earliest?" She was giving me that fucking look that she never did intentionally. She looked so fucking happy. She looked so fucking free.
"Uhhh," I knocked the bowl into my hand and threw the ash out of the window.
The first thought was getting sexually abused, but there had to be more than that. There had to be something that I remembered. First time in the tub? First time riding a bike? It was hard thinking about what I had remembered first when they were all so insignificant to me at the time:
"Do you remember Bert and Ernie?" The bowl was being repacked.
"Of course I remember them. Sesame Street, right?" She tossed her cigarette out and quickly reached for another.
The fresh bowl was packed, and I took another hit: "Well- I don't know if this is an exact memory so much as a dream, I don't know, it seems pretty real." I was surprised I hadn't coughed while speaking. Not to push my luck, I exhaled, then inhaled.
"Here you go," The pipe was back in Charlie's possession and I was the one reaching for a cigarette.
"Thank you." Her hair bounced while I rolled the window down so we wouldn't fucking hot box with cigarettes.
"Don't mention it," I lit the cancer stick, "Well, I remember being on like, I guess a operating table, I don't know, I don't really see it third person," I took a drag that was the best fucking smoke in my mouth that I had had in a while, "And I remember like, doctors and nurses all huddled around me, checking on me, there was a bright light behind them," another drag.
"Here you go."
"Oh, thank you." I took a hard rip and passed it right back, "Anyway, I remember this stuffed animal coming into view, it was a stuffed Ernie. Like a toy. And I don't know if it happened, but I know there's a stuffed Ernie in storage that my mother told me I used to never be able to put down."
She had the pipe extended out in front of me, and I was too busy watching the black waves crash against the never ending ocean. Only when some ember fluttered off the cigarette was I awoke to the "Andy."
"Shit, sorry." I started laughing then followed by ashing my cigarette and taking another drag, then taking the bowl.
"I think I'm good off that." Her bloodshot eyes told me they were sure.
"All right." I worked hard to clear the bowl. We weren't moving as fast as we had been, and marijuana was very quickly turning into a chore rather than a recreation.
"So the stuffed animal exists?" She said stuffed animal over doll to protect my masculinity; I'm sure of it.
"Yes, I couldn't tell you exactly where, but I'm sure my mother could." My cigarette was half way gone, and so was I.
"Well, I'll just have to ask her about it later." She was smiling, taking a drag. She made smoking look so good. She made everything look so fucking good.
"Don't you believe me?" I had to smile back, it was damn near impossible not to when she was.
"I can't believe you if you don't believe yourself. This story is somewhere between a dream and a memory; if you don't know the facts, how could I?" Clever, that one.
"I guess you're right. We'll just have to ask her when we get back." She always had me on her side and if I wasn't, it didn't take much words to convince me.
The silence was nice. The next cigarette was nicer. There wasn't a bird in the sky which was surprising, but not so much when I realized that there was such a thing as too much wind for them. The waves continued to crash without any care for anything else.
Who knows how long had passed when I spoke up, "What's your earliest memory?"
"My earliest memory?" She made the distance between us to rest on my side.
"Yeah, what is it?" My fingers ran through her hair without a go ahead from anyone.
"Well, I'll tell you," she extended her arm to my window to ash what I believe was her 3rd or 4th cigarette. We made a smoker out of her yet.
"When I was about 6 or 7, I can't know exactly, I remember playing in my room. My mother had just bought me a couple books, do you remember The Magic Treehouse? I was obsessed. Anyway. I hear my father get home, and he instantly starts screaming. Usually he would wait an hour or so, try to unwind before he got so worked up." She tried to laugh, when that didn't work, she took another drag.
"Anyway, he and my mom start getting into it, nothing worse than usual, screaming. My mother's voice straining to tell him to calm down, she didn't want me to be upset in my room. The angel, I was used to it." She extended to ash her cigarette outside of my window again. Neither of us flinched when the ash fell back to us. She didn't even care when it slipped from her fingers.
"I go out of my room to see what's happening when I start hearing something unfamiliar. There's a lot of crashing. Things being slammed. My mom is screaming, a bloody kind of scream, it was the one time I had ever heard her like that... When I turned the corner from the hallway... I see my mom, pinned up against the fridge, my father's forearm against her neck, as to keep her there.." Her voice started to gain some sort of, emptiness.
"And I remember, I remember her just looking at me, through the lack of oxygen, through the tears in her eyes, and I don't know how she fucking did it, but she comforted me with one look, and just said, 'Go back to your room honey, I'll be back in to tuck you in in a minute.' And," She sounded choked up, "And I did. And I sat in my room for another half an hour before she came back in, and told me everything was okay, and that daddy was going to be leaving, and I wish I remembered how she fucking explained divorce to me, but you know what? It didn't sound so bad, divorce, even now, divorce is probably one of the best things that happened to my mother."
My still burning cigarette was on the pavement now.
Tears were rolling down her face, and I was near the edge of them too, I didn't know what else to do besides wrap an arm around her and pull her in as close as I could.
It wasn't the first time that she had told me her father was a bastard, but it had never moved her so much. It had never seemed like such a human occurrence to her. Her rare vulnerability made me want to protect her. I wish I had known how to fucking protect her. The only thing that comforted me, because it was always about me, was knowing that this had to help make sense of things, I don't know, the way she was, not the magic parts, the other parts. As if words could describe her.
"I'm-I'm sorry." She was nestling her face into my chest, and I had to smile instantly when my response came.
"What are you sorry about, Charlie?" The pressure in my eyes had won. It was weird, crying and smiling.
"I'm sorry that I'm cryi- Shut up, Andrew." She started laughing. The movements and the sound from it warmed me up better than any clothing or heater ever could.
"I don't know if this helps any, because its probably something you've heard, and if it isn't, its something you know," She moved her face out from my chest to stare ahead at the sky like I was. "Your mother, she's so damn strong, all on her own, she fucking raised you and left a pile of shit. She became a fucking nurse while supporting you full time. And you, you're here, one of the strongest and most intelligent people I know. You have a light that shines brighter than anyone I've ever met."
I was nearly positive that I had heard 90% of those lines in movies, but it was the best I had on short notice.
"Thank you, Andy." She was rubbing my stomach again, and like those times, it was better than sex.
"Don't mention it." I allowed myself to fully enjoy the moment. It was more than nice. I was even able to push the fact that she didn't want me entirely out of my mind.
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