#but it was mostly some lines and allusions because we’re already supposed to know the general backstory here

[quibbs126]

I find myself hoping that the next iterations of Transformers shake up Optimus and Megatron’s backstories a bit more

I mean sure, Transformers One shook it up a little, having them both be miners and the creation of the Decepticons being a lot more spontaneous and for somewhat different reasons, but it still follows the general current backstory. They were friends before the war, Megatron created what would become the Decepticons originally to fight for change and equality in a corrupt Cybertron, their ideals start shifting as Megatron wants more forceful means and Optimus more peaceful, they split off and the war starts up from their disagreements on the situation. Megatron tends to take Optimus’ splitting off personally and Optimus still holds some amount of feelings towards Megatron due to their shared history. Also, Megatron is usually a gladiator or miner and while Optimus is more flexible, he’s usually a file clerk/archivist or in Earthspark and One’s case, a laborer

Like I mean, it’s not a bad backstory. But I think it’s been their general backstory for the past 15 years or so. By this point I think we can maybe change things up a little more

[negasonicimagines]

Tell Me I'm Not Funny

Request: darkandmysteriousbutheartofgold!ellie and wholesomeanddoesn'tunderstandwhyelliedoesn'tlikeher!reader where they're both part of the friend group but ellie just thinks reader is straight and messing with her pls

Notes: I don’t usually write MCU!Peter, so if he comes up in any future fics (like as the reader’s stepdad 👀 I’ve loved spideypool longer than I’ve loved Negasonic) you can safely assume it’s Andrew Garfield. But, for this time, this is MCU!Peter. Everyone in the friend group is 18-20, just to be clear.

This really isn't my best work, but it's a fun little slice of life piece. A lot of my ideas are pretty cinematic, I can picture them in my head but sometimes those pictures don't really translate into words. I may revisit this one day.

Warnings: D-slur (reclaimed by Ellie in one line), allusions to prior assault (an unwanted kiss that could've been more had another character not stepped in), and that's about it. Oh, and a little swearing, but this is an imagine for a character from Deadpool. If you can't handle swearing, you're on the wrong blog.

Synopsis: You’re into Ellie, but she’s with your good friend Peter. She treats you like you don’t even exist, and in the few instances she does acknowledge you, it’s usually just to make some sarcastic remark. You’re head-over-heels, though, and decide to deal with your unrequited love by writing her a song she’ll never hear.

“Fuck, that movie was terrible,” Michelle groans. “I’m just glad it was a matinee show and we didn’t have to pay as much to see it.”

“The special effects were good, but can’t Disney just leave stuff alone?” Peter agrees.

“Next thing you know they’ll be making a live action Toy Story, as if the original wasn’t traumatizing enough. I don’t want to imagine Watermelon as a sentient being. She’s seen some shit,” you snicker.

“Who’s Watermelon?” Ellie asks with a dark chuckle, and you clam up. How had you forgotten she was here?

“Oh, uh, nobody.”

“Don’t tell me you still sleep with a stuffed animal,” she snarks. “You really do need to grow up.”

“Don’t be mean, Ellie,” Peter protests.

“Watermelon is cute, everybody likes cute things!” Yukio adds.

“I think a live-action Toy Story could be cool,” Ned says. “It’d look really good if they did stop-motion animation.”

“Oh, you’re right!” you chirp. “It’d be quite the undertaking, but it would look badass.”

“I think you’re using that term a little loosely,” Ellie grumbles, and you have to stop yourself from frowning, instead you laugh it off. Why does she always pick on you? Sure, she’s got a witty remark for everybody, but she’s way harder on you. It hurts, she really is so gorgeous and funny and mysterious and everything you want in a woman, but she acts like she can’t stand you.

Ellie and Peter head off together, Peter still hasn’t gotten around to getting his license and Ellie seems happy to give him a ride. You really don’t stand a chance.

You and the others pile up in MJ’s SUV for some late-night band practice.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” you admit to Yukio in the furthest row back.

“You can,” she insists. “You’re a way better singer than Lola, anyways.”

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to give her the wrong impression, I-”

“For the millionth time, Y/N, you didn’t. If she hadn’t left the band, we would’ve kicked her out. Not just for cheating on me, but for hurting you.”

“I guess,” you sigh. “Why can’t you sing instead?”

“Because I’m flat.”

“Yukio, breast size doesn’t have anything to do with singing ability, you’ve just gotta practice,” you joke.

“Shut up!” she giggles, punching you in the arm. “Plus, when you sing, the songs are being sung as they were written. We’re getting the real feelings.”

“Speaking of… I have something new I’m thinking about sharing tonight. Do you mind if I text you the demo?”

“Ooh, a first look! Hell yes!”

You text her the audio file and she puts in a wireless earbud, nodding along. Her smile gets wider and wider as she listens, and when she’s done, her assessment shocks you.

“Oh my gosh. You’re into Ellie.”

“What?!” you squeak. “No way!”

“You are! But, uh-”

“Don’t even say it. I know I don’t have a chance in hell. She only tolerates me for the sake of you and Peter.” Despite the gloominess of your tone, Yukio gets a mischievous glint in her eye, it confuses you. But, that’s just Yukio. Her thoughts are all over the place; she and Ellie balance each other out that way. They dated a couple of years ago, but it didn’t work out. They decided they were better off as friends.

“Screw that other song, we’re using this as the lead single. Everybody’s gonna love it, do you have the sheet music?”

“Yeah, uh, it’s in my bag.”

“Awesome.” Yukio’s grinning like she’s won something. Is the song that good? “We’ll have to practice this one a lot, we definitely need to have it ready by the concert this Friday.”

Right. Liz’s 19th birthday party. Apparently Peter had convinced her to let the band play, it’d be cheaper than hiring a more established artist.

“Our first paying gig? I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you remind her. She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“We’re mostly gonna be playing covers of Liz’s favorite songs, and she only has so many. We’ve gotta beef up the setlist with originals, and this is perfect! Has that pop-y fun vibe, it’ll fit right in.”

“Yeah, but if it’s that obvious how I feel about her after one listen-”

“Only because I already had a hunch after Daft Pretty Boys,” Yukio clarifies cheerily, and you sigh.

“Fair enough.”

The gang makes it to Michelle’s house, travelling down to the side door and going into the basement from there. MJ’s parents have encouraged her creativity from day one, and were ecstatic when the band was formed. You speculate that they’re mostly happy that she’s made friends. Writing and photography can be lonely hobbies.

“Y/N has something new for us!” Yukio chirps.

“That fast?” Ned’s surprised as you hand him the sheet music. He skims it. “Holy shit, this is a wicked solo! Thanks, Y/N!”

“Well, I’m hoping highlighting everybody else’s talent will disguise my lack thereof,” you chuckle.

“Don’t be stupid, we’ve all heard you sing backup,” MJ says. “You’re Ryan Ross, she’s Brendon Urie. I’m just glad we booted her out before she decided she was gonna be the only pangolin in The Pangolins.”

Everyone laughs at that.

“Let’s try it,” Michelle continues, and everybody agrees. After a sound check and a few runs of the song, it’s still clumsy, especially on your part. You’re not really used to playing and singing at the same time, outside of backup vocals, which require far less focus.

“I suck,” you mumble, but it happens to be into the microphone.

“You don’t!” Ned insists.

“With that attitude, we’re not going anywhere,” Yukio says. You hate it when she gets to the tough love stage of her support. You wish she’d stay in the shallow reassurances stage, it’s easier to brush off. “You wouldn’t be the lead singer if we all thought you sucked. We would’ve just put an ad in the paper. You’re awesome, get over it!”

You sigh.

“Fine. Thank you.”

“Say it,” she insists.

“I’m awesome,” you huff, it’s hard not to smile when Yukio tries to look serious.

“Damn straight,” Yukio says. “Or, I guess not, considering that was about Ellie.”

“Yukio!” you squeal.

“That’s about Ellie?!” Ned exclaims.

“Obviously,” MJ scoffs, fiddling with her tuners.

“Is it that obvious?!” You can’t help but feel embarrassed. Ellie probably knows exactly how you feel, maybe that’s why she dislikes you so much. Her boyfriend’s stupid friend has a crush.

“Wait, but at the beginning…” Ned trails off, before laughing. “Oh my gosh, I get it.”

“Get what? Oh… Y/N, have I ever told you how much I love you?” MJ asks.

“I- I love you, too?” You’re puzzled by their words, but you’ve got enough on your plate.

“Let’s go ahead and practice some of Liz’s favorites while we’re here,” Yukio suggests. “It’s a pretty big set list.”

You practice until dinner, getting a pizza and deciding to make a night of it since it was a little late for Michelle to be dropping you all off at your assorted residences.

You all sleep on a pallet in the basement, and despite your worries, you manage to get some rest.

Over the next few days, The Pangolins practice at every free moment, until it’s finally time for the party.

“So, just pictures of everything?” Oh, shit. She’s not supposed to be here. How are you supposed to sing that song with her here?

“Yeah! I know with how many people are coming, I’m probably not going to get as much time as I want with everyone, so pictures will be a good way to remember the night.”

“Why not just invite less people?” Ellie wonders.

“I want all my friends to be here,” Liz explains. “How’s the sound check going, Y/N?”

“It’s going great,” you say into the microphone, demonstrating the quality and volume with a smile. “Thanks for letting us play here tonight.”

“Well, Peter said you guys are great. Are you really gonna debut your best song so far tonight?”

“Oh, um,” you stutter, stepping away from the microphone. “Maybe not.”

“What? Oh, come on, please, it’ll make the night even more special! You’re playing covers of all my old favorites, sing me my new favorite!” Liz presses, but she’s not being demanding or bratty, she seems genuinely excited.

“If the birthday girl says so, who am I to say no?” you concede. Hopefully Ellie will be too distracted taking pictures. “You have way too much faith in me.”

“If you don’t quit with the self-deprecation, I’m gonna duct tape your mouth shut,” MJ interjects.

“But, Daddy, how will I say my safe word?” you tease, giggling at your own joke with the rest of the group. Yukio’s laugh seems the loudest. Ellie glares.

“We should practice a song!” Ned suggests.

“Ooh, a private show!” Liz seems excited.

“Any requests?” you ask her. Ellie’s resting scowl intensifies. If she’s more pissed off the more you open your mouth, you’re not sure how she’s gonna survive a night of you singing without going nuclear.

“Oh, oh, Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne, please?”

“You’ve got it,” you agree.

The song goes smoothly.

“What happened to the old singer?” Ellie asks, clearly unimpressed.

“You didn’t tell her?” you ask Yukio, grateful for the excuse to turn away from the sharp-tongued girl you adore.

“Didn’t want her to get the wrong impression,” Yukio explains. “She already makes enough rude comments towards you.” Yukio leans over her drum kit to give Ellie a pointed look.

“Oh, wait, shit, I didn’t mean it like that. You, uh, sound good, Y/N.”

You can’t help but whip your head back to look at her with a flabbergasted expression.

“What?! It’s true,” Ellie defends herself.

“Uh, yeah, but you just said something nice. About me. Liz, do you mind checking her for a fever?”

Liz obliges for the sake of going along with the joke before quickly withdrawing her hand.

“Jeez! I know you were kidding, but she’s burning up,” Liz declares.

“My internal temperature is higher due to my mutation,” Ellie quickly explains, looking a bit bashful. “Besides, I say nice shit about Y/N all the time.”

“No, you don’t,” the whole band says in unison, including you.

“Well, clearly I shouldn’t if everyone’s gonna make a big fucking deal about it,” she retorts, rolling her eyes. “I’m gonna go get some pictures of the decorations before there’s a bunch of fucking people here to block them.”

She stomps off in her heavy boots, and The Pangolins get back to work, putting on the final touches and making sure all the blocking looks right.

Soon enough, guests start flooding in, and Liz zips around to greet them, eventually meeting up with Peter and keeping him with her. He and Liz eventually pull Ellie away from her picture-taking, confident she’s done enough and needs to just relax and enjoy the party.

So much for distracting herself with work, she thinks.

They sit on the couch and eat, the dining room was monopolized by The Pangolins due to its elevation and space.

Ellie’s mesmerized by the way your fingers move until she hears Peter talking to Liz. They really are a cute couple.

“You really do need to hang out with us. Yukio told me Y/N thinks Ellie and I are a thing,” he says.

“Gross, you’re like my annoying little brother,” Ellie remarks.

“And you’re like my bitchy older sister,” Peter retorts with a shit-eating grin.

“Both of you, quiet! They’re about to play the new song. You’re in for a real treat, Ellie.”

“What does it have to do with me?”

Liz gives Peter a confused and slightly irritated look.

“I haven’t said anything to her, I didn’t know how,” Peter squeaks, blushing a little at the look in his girlfriend’s eyes.

“Explain, quickly,” Ellie demands.

But, then you start to sing again.

“Y/N-” Peter starts.

“Shut up.”

“But you asked-”

“I said, shut up,” Ellie insists.

“You know me as your boyfriend's goofy friend. I seem to have this effect on women, and your friends aren't as goofy as I am. I try my best to keep you entertained, always laughing at the jokes you are saying. I nod my head when you make a point, oh oh…

“Kiss me, kiss me with your eyes closed! Whisper that your heart shows all I want is you, yeah, you… Hold me, hold me I'm your bunny! Tell me I'm not funny, tell me I’m legit! ‘Cause I feel weak, in your hands and your feet… A precious end, I’ll never feel your touch…”

Ellie continues to listen to the song, all expression drained from her face. All the yearning in the words and your voice, all you want is…

Ellie looks at Peter, who’s looking at her with a triumphant smile.

“I told you.”

Ellie feels like she’s about to faint. She notices you’re talking to Liz�� when did she leave? —your hand over your mic. Despite the knowledge that Liz is taken, Ellie gets jealous. You look so happy to be talking to Liz, to just about any girl you talk to.

She wishes you’d smile at her that way.

You nod at whatever Liz said, and the band starts packing away their instruments. Liz sets up her phone on some Bluetooth speakers, and songs that sounded so much better when you were singing them start to play.

No! Ellie internally protests. Sing for me again, please, sing that stupid song about how you think I don’t like you.

Yukio’s dragging you somewhere. Gosh, Ellie wishes it was her holding your hand.

Suddenly, though, you and Yukio are approaching her. She knows what she has to do.

“So, what’d you think of our- Eek! Finally!”

Ellie parts from the kiss to tell her to fuck off and not ruin the moment before kissing you again.

“Holy fucking shit,” you breathe. “Uh, I thought you were-“

“Dating Peter?! Seriously?! Do I need to write ‘dyke’ on my fucking forehead? I practically already have with the way I dress and act and-”

“I, uh, I try not to make assumptions,” you mumble, fingers touching your lips.

“I’m, uh, sorry for not asking.”

“No, it’s- It was good. I’ve wanted you to do that for a while. It’s just that that was the first time somebody’s kissed me, since, uh…” Your eyes dart to Yukio, who’s ruffling Ned’s hair and laughing.

“Yukio?!” Orange flickers in Ellie’s eyes for a moment, but she keeps it under control.

“No, no, of course not, uh… The old singer, Lola. She and Yukio were dating, but apparently I was the one she really had her sights on, and… She was entitled. Thought that because she wanted me, I must want her. That wasn’t really the case, I was already pining over you. Didn’t stop her from forcing a few kisses on me and trying to go further. If Yukio hadn't shown up early with cupcakes, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”

“I am such an asshole,” Ellie says softly. “Can I kiss you again? The right way.”

“I’d say what you did before was pretty right, but sure,” you consent.

Her kiss before had been rough, needy, and impatient. Just the way you like it. This, though, this is gentle, soft, and exploratory. You tangle your hands in her hair and kiss her harder. She moans into the kiss before pulling away, bewildered.

“That was…” Ellie trails off, trying to find a positive adjective that won’t sound to frilly or lovesick.

“A mistake, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, fuck, no. I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” she corrects you. “Just- Didn’t really know how. Even when you were kinda flirting with me at first, I just thought you were messing with me, so I- I am so stupid.”

“So am I,” you scoff. “I thought you were dating Peter.”

“I was spending a lot of time with him, but… I was just using him as an excuse to avoid you so I wouldn’t embarrass myself anymore. And I was asking him for advice. I figured if he could land somebody as far out of his league as Liz, maybe I stood the slightest bit of a chance with you. But I kept fucking it up. I’d just get so nervous, all of my compliments would turn into insults, all of my teasing turned into straight-up cruelty. I don’t know how you actually like me.”

“I’m a little bit of a masochist, I’ll admit,” you tell her. “I’m really glad you don’t hate me.”

“I’m really glad you don’t hate me,” Ellie replies, but she can’t help but think that what she‘s really saying is ‘I love you, too.’

She takes your hand, and you two rejoin your friends, swept up in a group hug. They wanted this to happen almost as much as you two did.

[plasticflowering]

A Unifying Theory of Loreography (Lore + Choreography)

(2/3/21) HELLO to all new folks finding this post! It is also now a YouTube Video, and I’m pretty happy with it so if you’d rather get your lore analysis visually please check it out! 

Preface: I don’t think it’s just coincidence that we got full choreography for an intro called “Devil is in the detail”, and I’ve made it my mission since 반박불가 dropped to pull apart the threads that might link everything, lore-wise. This morning I believe I had an epiphany about it, so here are my thoughts.

If this flops I will feel my soul exiting my body so please validate me.

Notes: In forming this theory I mostly considered the events of the storyline MVs and teasers as well as the choreography, but a very important part of my epiphanies came when considering the post-MV stingers for TBONTB and 반박불가. It’s using these stingers that I feel like I can better understand the thesis statements in the choreo. 

Part One: Now then, where were we? 

At the end of TBONTB, the monarchs are approaching monumental, pitch-black gates made of skulls and desperate, reaching hands. 

I can’t not interpret this as the gates of Tartarus, considering the Greek mythology in the canon lore already. Tartarus, however, is at the lowest depths of the underworld, and so my interpretation is that, while they reclaimed their souls from the necklace, they awoke physically in a realm beyond the underworld, and now have to make their way out of this psychological nightmare to breathe free the air, as it were. Through Tartarus, through Hell, this is not because I played 80 hours of Hades in the last three months but it might have a little to do with that. Stay with me. (Though if anyone is wondering, YES Leedo would be Zagreus, but that’s not why we’re here today)

Part Two: Devil is in the Detail 

What an opening formation. The imagery is not 100% clear to me, but I feel as if this entire opening formation sequence is dual-wielding imagery of a crown (much like the killing part of TBONTB), but also the gates of Tartarus. 

Look at this transition once Hwanwoong ascends to the top of the formation, and how the hands all come out, similar to the gates above. I’ll be damned if this is supposed to invoke anything else.

Rewinding a bit, this framing of Seoho being resuscitated and borne by their hands is stunning. Seoho’s journey in the TBONTB choreography merits its own post entirely, because there are a lot of moments that seem to be telling a story for him particularly, and this is just a continuation of that. 

Ravn and Leedo being separated for the rap line part seems like an obvious utilitarian choice, and I agree that it is. However, before we prepare to dismiss all “pairings” as serving the progression of the song itself, I have another theory that ties together a lot of the inciting moments of choreo. I promise you this is going to sound like A Reach, but that’s just how my mind works and if you enjoy it I’m glad.

Leedo, Hwanwoong, and Xion are the monarchs who have absolved themselves by the events of 반박불가, and fully reclaimed their souls as well as their conscience. Seoho and Ravn, not so much. They have a lot of work to do to free their conscience - especially Seoho. Oh, lord, especially Seoho. Keonhee is an extremely interesting case, as he seems to have a foot firmly in both sides, More on that later. 

For further paranoid conspiracy theorist proof of this, please note that their outfits in the choreography videos symbolically reflect this:

Light, Light, Light/Dark, Dark, Dark/Lightish, Light

If you need more convincing, may I point out that Leedo, Hwanwoong, and Xion are the only members who got those wonderful “all clothed in white” shots in the back half of the 반박불가 MV? I tried to make a gif, and I did make a gif, but Tumblr doesn’t want to post it in this text post.

(you rn)

The most interesting moments of loreography in DiitD are the following: 

1. These lotus hands. Again, the imagery, I die!! Keonhee is coming into his own, his character is blooming, expanding his consciousness, going sicko mode with the realization that he has power in the underworld. 

2. Directly following this, Seoho offers a hand to Keonhee and literally drags him down (again, the light/dark dichotomy of Keonhee), while the two good good boys Hwanwoong and Xion are back there just trying to maintain balance so they can get through this Hell/Tartarus thing. 

3. Good ol’ ONEUS Summoning Circle, but wait this time I think it’s actually meaningful beyond the imagery. Seoho is at the center because he has the vocal line, yeah obviously, but he stays there much longer than is objectively necessary without a formation change. This isn’t common in ONEUS choreography. As much as they love their Summoning Circles, they tend to move on to other formations quickly. This one has meat on its bones, and I think what’s happening here, loreography wise, are the other monarchs banding together in an attempt to save Seoho from the darkness. But Seoho is powerfully dark, y’all, even going so far as to overpower them in the moment above. 

4. This is flame imagery. Seoho has been engulfed in flames despite everyone’s best efforts. 

5. At the last minute, he gets yeeted via backflip back into Hell/Tartarus

6. Keonhee takes the initiative in going back for him...

7. We’re back in Hell, that’s just great. Thanks, Seoho. You’re lucky we love you and your extremely disturbed conscience. 

With this in mind, you can probably get way ahead of me, here. 

Part Three: 반박불가 

Perhaps not remarkably, the title track doesn’t have nearly as many loreography beats as DiitD. However, we know it’s part of the lore, and this was made abundantly clear simply with that opening move...

This is where we left off TBONTB, but not exactly. There is a slightly different formation of dancers here, which suggests it’s not picking up exactly where TBONTB left off, but rather that this is a cue to let casual fans know, explicitly: yes, this is a continuation of the TBONTB story. 

Some moments don’t have choreography allusions, but they are loud in the MV, such as:

- “Youngjo, would you stop playing with flowers, our lead vocalist is going to Hell.” Ravn, who barely scraped out of Hell last time, ostensibly with Leedo’s help according to the rap line break in the choreography, has a rough time of it in the 반박불가 MV, but Hwanwoong isn’t going to let him fall back into toxic behaviors and lose himself to that psychological prison again. Hwanwoong drags Ravn back out of Hell, but not before Ravn successfully makes contact with Seoho. Obviously, Ravn would be the one to make contact, because Ravn’s still a little on edge about his own conscience and can easily backslide if he wants to. Who does he find down there? Seoho.

- Keonhee, who led the charge to return to Hell, is staying on task but seems to be the chief of operations to Hwanwoong’s chief of intelligence here, exercising his newfound sicko mode. Those two are certainly working hardest at keeping the servants of darkness in check down in the depths so they can make a quick break for it. 

- Leedo’s actually having a grand time fighting his own demons - or rather, smirking at them and realizing that nah, he’s good. He can use his guilt and regret to motivate him towrd good things now. 

- Xion is literally just above all of this and can move between Hell and Earth with ease, so he’s just waiting to see if he has to pull any Fallen God-Prince cards here to save his friends. 

Now, for the key loregraphy moments. It’s obvious that 1Million was choreographing for a new direction in the ONEUS style, here, so it’s nearly bereft of the usual lyricism and formations, but they’re definitely there. Unsurprisingly they almost all deal with Seoho. 

1. God, this moment whips. They’re all working to free Seoho and lock the gates behind them, with Keonhee giving Seoho one final push. That’s not a normal choreography move. That is storytelling and it sticks out like a beautiful sore thumb with an entire sonnet written on it. 

2. With Seoho on lock, now Ravn may break out. He does so rather easily, but it’s not without Hwanwoong’s help. Please notice that Keonhee and Seoho are the two BEHIND him, and what that symbolizes. 

3. This fucking bridge. It’s amazing with the loreography. First of all we have Keonhee, and the Summoning Circle is using the same imagery/texture that was formerly used to represent engulfing fire. Uh-oh.

4. Keonhee reaches out...

... but gets dragged under.

5. (excited football commentator voice) but who’s that on the outside making it to the surface, literally with the support of the other monarchs? IT’S SEOHO (cheers)!!

And Seoho finishes things out in the center, as well he should because he got us into this mess.

Part Four: What just happened to Keonhee

I’m so angry at this post-MV stinger. It took me forever to wrap my brain around what is being suggested here, because I thought “hey wait, the red lighting represents darkness/hell, doesn’t it?? DOESN’T IT?? RBW???? I thought we just GOT OUT OF HELL????

So I leave the final interpretation in everyone's individual hands, but the thought that occurred to me today was: 

What if this entire scenario was a test of resolve and camaraderie, an illusion, a trick by the Devil (or that donger Helios, whatever). What if Keonhee was the only one who saw through this, and the only one who genuinely made it to Earth at the moment he appeared to have been dragged back to Hell? Because, as we know, Keonhee is a tactical genius, a monarch among the monarchs, and all his visual imagery in the MV suggested a sort of power cabal. 

What if he realized that they weren’t all strong enough to face the challenge of breaking this cycle, so he schemed to leave them behind, but leave them safe in the illusion, while he struck out with the power of God and anime on his side.

I... I think Keonhee is about to go kill and dethrone a God, y’all. 

[maidenoftheforestlight-blog]

"I do have some issues with how GRRM chose to frame Sansa in AGOT". Could you expand on that? What are those issues?

Well I’ve reblogged quite a few metas on this subject and written a bit about it myself and I’d love to link some of that here but… how to find that stuff on my blog without slogging through months of irrelevant posting? Hmm… I really  need to organise this blog better… 

Assuming I don’t manage to find the relevant posts (or at least some of them) then I’ll just say that my issues with Sansa in AGOT have to do with how GRRM (apparently) originally conceived of her character and how much of that actually remained in the final product; that is to say, she was originally intended to be a foil to Arya and the one Stark kid who caused problems in the happy family group dynamic. This was apparently because GRRM thought it wouldn’t be realistic for all the kids to get along perfectly and for there to be no internal strife in the Stark family at all… but isn’t it odd that out of all the kids he chose the two girls to set at odds with one another? And isn’t it doubly odd that of these two girls it is the more stereotypically feminine one who was initially created to be that little “problem” in the family dynamic? Robb and Jon could easily have been the warring siblings instead, no? Or maybe Sansa could have been a boy instead and Arya could’ve had a male foil to argue with… but instead…

Sansa, despite clearly becoming a well rounded character in her own right by the final draft of AGOT, still retains quite a bit of that original character sketch. She is written to be a foil to Arya and to cause complications for her family due to her relationship with Joffrey. While with close reading - keeping in mind the social mores of her society and the way she has been raised - Sansa’s actions and beliefs about her world are quite understandable, she is not generally written in such a way that suggests the author meant to endear her to the reader… Contrast to the way Arya is written (because Sansa is her foil and GRRM wants us to compare them in this book!); introduced as a plucky underdog who challenges the status quo. We are meant to immediately identify with, like and root for Arya, and we do. We are not meant to immediately identify with, like and root for Sansa. 

We are introduced to Arya first and Sansa makes Arya feel bad about herself by being good at everything and prettier and getting her in trouble and… you get the point. Even though 9 year old Arya has biases, and we as readers should understand that, the mere fact that our introduction to Sansa comes through her POV already gives the reader a bias against Sansa on Arya’s behalf because that’s all we know about her! There’s also the fact that the quickest way to get your readership to identify with and like a character within a historical setting is to give them the values and opinions of a more modern person… and we get quite a bit of that with Arya, what with her challenging of gender norms and disregard for class and rank. We don’t get that short cut with Sansa. 

 When we actually meet Sansa in her own POV she is once again acting in her role as the foil… it’s the incident at the Trident where Sansa fails to stand up to Joffrey for Arya and Mycah the butcher’s boy and then doesn’t tell the king what really happened and “gets Lady and Mycah killed”, to hear some fans tell it (never mind her reasonable reasons for being confused about what to do and refusing to speak). It’s not a glowing moment for her here and tbh… there really is only one real glowing moment for Sansa in AGOT (before Ned’s imprisonment/death that is); the moment where she feels empathy for Sandor Clegane, overcomes her fear, and offers him the comfort he needs. 

Other than this, her POV mostly focuses in on the trivialities of her interests and concerns, on how very little she actually understands the adult world around her, and we hardly see her interact with others in a positive way. Again… other than Sandor Clegane! She and Arya bicker, her relationship with Ned is somewhat strained since the Trident, and you get the vague impression that of his children, Sansa is probably the one he is the least accustomed to spending time with or talking to (we get no scene of parental bonding with Sansa, unlike Arya) and even Jeyne - Jeyne who is supposed to be Sansa’s best friend - we get no scenes of them having fun together, braiding each other’s hair, gossiping about cute boys, playing cyvasse… nada. Oh we get scenes of them talking, but it’s mostly in scenes which, again, are there to place Sansa in her role as the foil; demonstrating her naivety and ignorance of the dangers at court. The actual fun times they have together as friends, the actual comfort and happiness they give each other, well we’re told about this in a few stray lines here and there… we don’t actually ever “see” it! 

And that’s important! That’s the stuff that makes you like a character! But GRRM didn’t want to show us Sansa being fun and a caring friend in AGOT or even showing off any of the things she is reportedly so good at (she does actually show off some of these things; she shows she is naturally apt at diplomacy and has a good memory for important persons, houses and sigils and rank in this book… but this is all quite subtly introduced. Her cleverness is not meant to be something the reader immediately picks up on). He didn’t particularly want us to start sympathizing with her until near the end of the novel… and it shows. Sansa’s more positive character traits are de-emphasized by the author for most of AGOT and this, more than anything she actually does in this particular novel, is why so many fans come away seriously disliking her as a character(imho of course); many with the claim that she has no positive traits!

This ties into my larger issues with GRRM’s writing of women in general. He definitely treats his POV female characters like people who deserve to be just as well developed and complex as his male characters, and I appreciate that! However, he seems to have problems with depicting women’s relationships with other women. That is to say, if he can avoid female friendships, he does… at least in the early novels (things may be looking up based on more recent stuff). We get great male friendships, and male/female friendships, but when it came  to showing women who genuinely like each other interacting, GRRM just… didn’t go there at the beginning. Yeah, you’ve got Arya and Sansa not getting along, and Sansa and Jeyne’s friendship happening mostly offscreen but surely there must be more women who can be getting along… right? Well… no. 

Catelyn seems to have no female friends or companions at all, even from memory (which is ridiculous!) and her relationship with Lysa is extremely strained. Later she meets Brienne and while their relationship is a positive one for them both, it is more that of a Lady and her sworn shield than of friends. Cersei has no real friends at all, let alone female ones… she actually killed her childhood “bestfriend”. Margaery and the Tyrell cousins were not real friends to Sansa, Arya’s best friends and travelling companions are all male (albeit she does have a brief but very sweet interaction with Lady Smallwood) and Dany’s female companions are all servants to her. All in all, the situation with regards to sisterhood and female friendship in ASOIAF ain’t great. 

Topping this off, there’s also the fact that while GRRM’s understanding of what medieval noblewomen actually got up to in a day’s work is better than GOT’s, there are yet still some suggestions that feminine gendered activities are quite trivial and frivolous, and these suggestions are, again, most evident in Sansa and Arya’s AGOT chapters where they, again, serve to highlight Sansa as the silly, blinkered, girly-girl, to Arya’s rebellious, open-minded tom boy. 

To sum it up, it is of great significance that Arya, who we are meant to identify with and like, is a tom boy and Sansa, her foil, is extremely feminine. The negative aspects of Sansa’s personality, the ones being highlighted above her more positive qualities in AGOT, are therefore associated with that femininity because her negative traits are framed in contrast to Arya’s positive ones, and Arya’s interests and behaviour are more stereotypically masculine. I liked Sansa despite all of this because, paying attention while reading her chapters and fed up with trope of cool tomboys vs annoying girly girls, I was actually able to see the subtle allusions to there being more to Sansa than what the author was choosing to place on the surface. However, I understand how a reader who has no inclination to pay such close attention while reading her chapters could easily be put off from her character. GRRM did that on purpose… and I just don’t think it’s fair to the character who otherwise might have been given more of a chance by so many readers who, even now, still disregard her value to the story.

Edit: A few discussions on this topic that I managed to find by searching the shadowy corners of my blog (this should be easier… I need to use better tags…) that elaborate a bit more on this...

https://maidenoftheforestlight.tumblr.com/post/163170555339/some-people-argue-grrm-has-done-sansa-a-disservice#notes

https://maidenoftheforestlight.tumblr.com/post/155575049279/what-is-your-opinion-about-the-friendship-between

https://maidenoftheforestlight.tumblr.com/post/148912128094/as-much-as-i-agree-george-couldve-done-better

http://asoiafuniversity.tumblr.com/post/119478322575/on-george-martin-ladies-of-asoiaf-and

http://nobodysuspectsthebutterfly.tumblr.com/post/149368992133/why-do-you-think-that-asides-from-jeyne-poole

https://maidenoftheforestlight.tumblr.com/post/158118270004/do-you-think-sansa-bullied-jon-snow-some-of-my#notes

[ugh-supersoldiers]

Gold - Part One

(NOT MY GIF CREDS TO RIGHTFUL OWNER)

Characters: Bucky x original female character, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark (future chapters), Natasha Romanoff (future chapters), Arnim Zola

Summary: Elouise is your regular girl next door living in the 1940s - with a fiery attitude. Bucky Barnes couldn’t stand to let a girl like her go, so after much convincing, they go steady. Everything is wonderful until the war breaks out and Bucky leaves, never to return - until Elouise’s new job offer turns into a kidnapping. She is thrust into the world of Hydra when their newest asset - one Bucky Barnes - is uncooperative. She’s the only threat they have above his head, and they’ll use her in anyway they can to get him to break. What happens to Elouise when Hydra finally breaks Bucky? A story of loss, heartbreak, and a testament to the sheer power of unrelenting love.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, allusions to fluff, 40s!bucky (best warning), mentions of torture (future chapters), slow burn

Words: 3404

A/N: So I’ve been working on the entirety of this fic for an entire year now, and I figured now that people are reading my stuff I would post it in increments here :) PLEASE REBLOG AND LEAVE FEEDBACK I LOVE YOU ALL

1 - Elouise

I used to hate the heat. In the summer, I disliked the feeling of blistering warmth on my skin from the sun outside and the constant feeling of faintness that was easily associated. Truthfully, I hated it. I used to stand in front of the open refrigerator door in the warmer months only to be scolded by my father.

I hated summer until I met him in June. He was trouble, and at first I wanted nothing to do with him. Rightfully so, I was not going to be swept up off my feet with some line he’d used on 20 other girls prior to me. He was no knight in shining armour and I certainly had no interest in riding off with him into the delusional sunset that he’d paint in front of me.

And I didn’t… At least not right away. I wouldn’t be able to tell you exactly how it happened, but it did; I fell in love with him. The two of us were a whirlwind together, a wondrous storm that took place. We were perfect for one another, destined to be at each other’s side. I always knew we’d spend our lives together, however I didn’t think even for a second that it would be like this.

I didn’t ask for it, any of it. I didn’t ask to watch them torture him, I didn’t ask to be a prisoner for the near 70 years that they held us, I didn’t ask to be on and off cryogenically frozen. I was just a girl growing up in Brooklyn who was in love with a soldier by the name of James Buchanan Barnes during the war, I never thought I’d end up like this.

I was basically still a kid when I got the job offer and I naively thought the world was changing and finally accepting that women were just as, if not more intelligent than any man out there. I had never been more wrong in history of my short life.

It was the 40’s and I was madly in love, just like everyone wanted to be. He was everything a simple girl like me could ask for; protective, dashing, and a little bit reckless every now and again. The first time he took me out he kissed me on my doorstep and gave me his jacket, he was even romantic. He was my everything then, but it’s complicated now.

Every man, and boy that looked old enough, was trying to get into the army. For a strong young man who was of age like him, it was easy. Much to my heartache, he was recruited instantly. It was now a waiting game for when he’d be taken away. I can remember us dancing together to night before he left at a dance hall and I can remember him telling me over and over that he’d write me almost everyday and think about me every second he had to spare.

“I’ll come home to you once we win the war. We’ll get hitched, live in the country in a big house with a king sized bed and a white picket fence out front.” He said as the slow beat of the band surrounded us in gentle sound, pleasant to the ear.

I was barely holding back my tears because I’d been putting off the thought of him leaving for far too long. I figured that if I just pushed it out of my head, maybe it would never be real. Now, I couldn’t even look him in the eye while we swayed back and forth.

“C’mon, don’t cry, Elouise.” He coaxed, reaching for my chin and pulling it up so that our eyes met.

“Sorry, Sarge.” I said, trying my best to joke as watched him perk up with the use of the nickname, “It’s just- What if you don’t come home like you promised?” I asked him as I looked at the way his army uniform fit him so well.

“Have I ever broken a promise before?” He asked with a look of endearment,

“‘Suppose not.” I answered honestly. If there was one thing that Bucky Barnes excelled at, it was being true to his word.

“This is no different.” He whispered, leaning in for a kiss.

I can remember everything from that night as if it were yesterday. I remember going back to our flat and sitting around for about a half hour before one thing lead to another and we ended up in bed together. Not that I didn’t expect such a thing to happen the night before he was to be shipped off to God-knows-where.

After all was said and done, he held me as if he already figured that I’d weep for nearly the whole night. He knew me far too well.

“I got something for you,” He said, getting up out of bed and reaching for his jacket which hung on a hook on the closet door. He lifted it up off the hook and stuck his hand in the pocket, pulling out a chain with a locket on it, “C’mere.” He said, hanging his jacket back up.

I scooted to the edge of the bed in curiosity, trying to get a peek at the necklace in his hand.

“Put the picture they took of me for my army papers inside so you never forget how great I look in uniform,” We both laughed, “And,” He continued, “So you remember that I love you.”

I held my hair up as he clasped the chain around my neck, placing a soft kiss to my temple as he did so.

“Thank you, it’s beautiful.” I held the locket in my hand and stared at it. It was an oval shape, maybe about the size of my thumbnail, and smooth on either side. I ran my thumb over the side of it, marvelling at the warmth of the metal from Bucky’s touch.

The bed dipped as he crawled back in bed beside me and I laid down next to him, still clutching the locket tightly.

I looked over at him while he pulled the covers over me and in a heartbeat, tears were spilling over my bottom lashes. Bucky’s gaze met mine as he tucked the sheets around my back, and the small smile that still rested on his face from the excitement of giving me his locket was washed away.

“Hey,” He said, turning to face me as we lay next to each other, “I haven’t seen a look like that one since I almost bored you to tears tryin’ to explain boxing to you.” He tried to joke, but I could tell the concern he felt outweighed his need to serve as comic relief

“I’d rather get punched in the face myself than have to deal with that again.” I tried to laugh, but choked on the lump in throat.

“You just gotta think about this in the long run,” He began, pulling me closer to him, “So we won’t see each other for a while, that’s not gonna to be easy, but we’ll send tons of letters one another. That’ll be nice, won’t it?” He tried to console me.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“And what about when I get back?” He asked.

“Whaddya mean?”

“Seein’ you for the first time?”

“Oh, c’mon.” I said, trying to stop him from romanticizing the idea of us seeing each other after hell like that.

“Don’t you want to at least think about how great that’ll be?”

“Not if you don’t-” I cut myself off, refusing to even believe that there was a version of my future that he wasn’t in.

“Elouise,” He said, “How could I not come back when I have you to get back to? I promise we’re gonna find each other in the sea of soldiers coming home and kiss each other like no one’s watching because I came back for you.” Bucky said quietly, kissing my forehead a couple of times, “I’m not going anywhere.”

He hadn’t meant to, but he’d only upset me further with the last few words he spoke. I cried and pushed my face into his chest, as if hiding my face meant I didn’t have to accept the truth. What broke me down the most was he truly believed what he was saying, that he’d come back in no time, like I’d barely even notice he was gone.

“I’m scared to lose you.”

“You won’t,” He said with certainty, “You won’t, I promise.”

We both stayed awake nearly the whole night each one of us taking turns either talking about our life together after the war, which was mostly done by him, or crying, which was mostly done by me. I was fine to sob and hold him close forever if that meant keeping him safe in Brooklyn, where he belonged.

His alarm went off at 5:30 am and only then did the panic set in.

I grabbed him and pulled him as tight as I possibly could to me, our chests pressed flush against each other as the blaring sound of the alarm rang out in the distance.

“Gotta to get up now.” He said and kissed my temple gently.

“No.” I wailed, inconsolable.

He eventually took the initiative to scoop me up in his arms and sit me up on the bed properly. He first dressed himself in his army uniform as I sat, still completely nude from the events of last night, watching him with tear clouded vision. I rarely felt vulnerable in front of Bucky, but as I watched him pull on his green pants and white shirt, followed by the heavy wool blend of his US army regulation jacket, I felt that my physical nakedness only added to the feeling of exposure that bubbled under the surface of my skin.

He walked over to the small mirror that was hung up on the wall and took a comb off of the dresser beside it, reaching up to his thick brown mane and styling it back to the way it was last night, combing away the mess of hair that was a result of a restless night. Once he’d placed his cap back on his head, he then took a dress that I’d left at his flat last time I’d stayed the night and pulled it over my head. I felt like a small child that was refusing to go to school.

“Don’t go.” I whimpered in a small, shaky voice.

He sighed and knelt at my legs.

“Elouise,” He said slowly, “Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?”

“There’s a loaded question if I ever heard one.” I sniffled.

He bit back the urge to let out a defeated laugh, he knew I’d never been good serious conversations like these.

“Do you have any idea how hard this is for me, to leave the girl I love with everything I got alone while I go away and fight someone else’s war? It’s the hardest thing I’ve had to do - ever. But it’s one way that I can make sure that we win this damn fight.” Bucky said.

I had hardly ever seen him emotional, but in the case I could’ve sworn I saw tears brim on his waterline, not that I would ever say a thing about it. He pinned our foreheads together and whispered, “I love you.” Before he got up, taking my hand and pulling me up with him.

Our drive to the train station was silent with the exception of my occasional sobs and muttered apologies for being so emotional paired with his constant reassurance that it was okay and, more importantly, that it was going to always be okay.

By the time we got there, I was nearly hysterical, clinging to his hand as if my life depended on it. We walked among the crowd of men, all in the same uniform as Bucky, as women cried and children stood in silence, not understanding the gravity of the situation that was laid out before their eyes. I almost longed for their ignorance.

“This is my train.”

With those words I grabbed him at the neck and hugged him, I could hear that both he and I were now crying.

The next ten minutes was filled with tight embraces and fevered, desperate kisses. Whispered promises and gentle touches helped us to keep our hopes as high as they could be before we heard the whistle of the train, meaning it was the last chance for him to board.

“I promise I’ll come home to you just as soon as I can.”

“God, be careful.”

“I will be.”

“Write me everyday, like you promised.”

“Of course.”

And with that exchange and one last parting kiss, I felt him retreat out of my warm embrace. I felt the worry ensue and my chest tighten. He was the very last man to board the train, it began moving as he stepped on. As they began moving faster I waved at him, holding back my sobs as he yelled from the back platform.

“Elouise Gold, I’ll love you until the day I die!” He said with a wide smile, the one in which his nose would scrunch up and his eyes would crinkle.

And then he was gone.

It’s been almost seventy years since that day. Little did I know that it would be one of the last times I would see my Bucky in the next 7 decades.

I later found out that Steve Rogers would be there, although that wasn’t much of a comfort, at least not for the first few months. Steve Rogers had been Buck’s best friend since they were tots, and I’d grown quite fond of the guy over the years. From what I’d heard, Steve had been pushing his luck to try and get his papers but was always denied. He had a huge heart, was always going on about what was right and wrong, and I guess someone finally saw that too when they decided to enlist him.

It was when Brooklyn received word of Captain America that my wondering of how Steve was accepted all made sense. America had a golden boy, a soldier that inspired the world to fight and it seemed like maybe, just maybe, this war was a winner. Bucky wrote me about Steve’s success in many of his letters, and I would share his enthusiasm. I was forever indebted to Steve when he saved Bucky from being captured by an enemy battalion, I even wrote him a thank you letter. It’s likely it went unread, lost in the sea of fan mail he was receiving.

Bucky wrote letters almost as much as he said he would, some of them even had pictures of him and Steve sitting together in whichever bar they were near. I saved them in a spot for safekeeping in our flat.

I would return the favour by developing pictures of myself with my friends as well as a handkerchief scented with my perfume every now and again. He’s always raved about how lovely I smelled, I figured he’d enjoy the gesture.

He would write about the good times he’d had, but spare the details about the horrors he’d seen in battle. It seemed he’d taken all the good spirit with him, as I found it hard to even do routine tasks without Bucky’s infectious light shining my typical pessimism away, but knowing that he was staying positive made it a bit easier to live without him. That was until his letters got less and less frequent, which he informed me might happen as he got busier fighting alongside Captain America himself. Then the letters stopped coming altogether.

I would check my mailbox at least five times a day, praying to God that there was a letter in there for me, letting me know that Bucky was safe and doing well. There was one night that I woke up in a cold sweat from a nightmare, one stemmed from my worry over Bucky, and check the mailbox in the middle of the night, desperate as ever to hear from him. There was always nothing in it, and so I sauntered back to bed, crawling in and pulling the covers over my shoulders again. This time when I was trying to fall asleep, I took the pillow from Bucky’s side and held it tightly, trying to inhale whatever was left of his scent on it and wishing with everything I had that I would receive a letter by the next day.

It was around noon when I heard a knock on my door and when I opened it, I saw the sad eyes of a colonel standing in front of me, hand extended with a small piece of paper in it.

“A letter for ya, ma’am.” He’d said, a twinge of discomfort in his voice as he saw my shaking hands reach out to pluck it from his grasp and open the envelope.

The whole avenue must’ve jumped out of their skin at the sound of what came out of my mouth when I read the killed in action report that I’d been given. I screamed loud enough to make even the soldier in front of me flinch. The colonel once more offered a series of insincere and well rehearsed apologies before he walked down the driveway from which he’d come, got into the dark green truck and drove away to most likely deliver similar messages to other family members across Brooklyn.

I slammed the door and barely made it to the living room before I collapsed on the floor as tears streamed down my face. The sorrow that I was swimming in quickly morphed into a sea of red hot anger, threatening to drown everything in its way.

“You promised!” I screamed to no one, “You said you’d come home! You said you’d marry me! You lied!” I kicked and yelled and punched at anything I could reach, filled with rage towards Bucky for dying, for leaving me like he did.

My irrational state slowly melted into choked sobbing. No one had ever had such an impact on me as Bucky Barnes had, and I knew in my heart that no one else could ever have destroyed me in the way he had.

That night I opened up the liquor cabinet and drank until I could barely remember my own name, but as much I could almost forget myself, I couldn’t forget him. He was everything, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t just forget everything.

The funeral was held a few days later, a typical military service. His family was there, not that we really acknowledged each other. Each too caught up in our own grief, the only sign I got that they even knew I showed up was the painful shared glance that his mother and I held as we walked by one another.

I don’t remember much of the service other than watching Mrs. Barnes accept a flag, folded up neatly, and feeling my eyes lock onto it blankly until all words had been spoken and it was finally over.

I accepted what felt like thousands of apologies from strangers that day. I’d never understood why people could only ever cough up an “I’m sorry for your loss” at funerals until after Bucky’s death. It was simple, I realized; no one could think of anything else to say that might even remotely take away the pain of loss and, since they couldn’t offer anything else other than their condolences, that’s what they gave.

That night I once again drank. I sobbed, not daring to look at the side of the bed that Bucky slept on when he used to stay over.

“Can you hear me?” I whispered, my words slightly slurred, “If you’re up there, I love you,” I could barely think of anything else to say, “Why’d you go? I wanted that house in the country, the one with the white picket fence, just as bad as you. I wanted to get married so bad. I wanted that, I wanted that with you.” I choked back a sob and soon passed out from a mix of sleep deprivation and whiskey.

Little did I know I would be seeing Bucky much much sooner than I expected.

(OKAY so that was it. Please let me know what you think and reblog and like for a new part xoxoxoxo)

[armin-yeager]

Negative Concerns About the Season Finale Tomorrow

I get legitimately anxious whenever I think about tomorrow’s episode, it’s honestly a little ridiculous.

I just wanted Eren to wake up in Armin’s arms last season and they took that away and gave the scene to Eren/Mikasa.

I’m gonna be so pissed if we don’t get them staring across the battlefield this time. I know to a lot of people it’ll seem like something so minor, but it’s foreshadowing to the amazing lines Eren gives later about Armin’s eyes making them recall their dream and that dream always giving him courage.

If they make Eren’s bravery purely motivated by Mikasa I am going to be so pissed.

Other concerns:

They won’t show them riding back together because they’ll be too busy focusing on Eren/Mikasa and they won’t want to do anything to take away from it.

They’ll change Armin’s lines about how it was thanks to Eren that more people didn’t die, and replace it with some foreboding shit like sacrifices having to be made or whatever.

We won’t get that discussion at all because they’ll instead end the season on Eren/Mikasa fanservice with him not leaving her side after she’s hurt.

We’ll get filler of them, even though we don’t have time for filler at this point.

We’ll get emphasis on that stupid line once again about being a man and protecting Mikasa for a change, like yeah, we already got it, Mikasa is a girl, Eren is a boy, can I make it anymore obvious boys need to protect girls.

They will make Mikasa look ridiculously beautiful when she smiles at Eren, making her appear feminine and demure rather than more childlike and happy like it was in the manga, because she’s a romantic interest and she has to be gorgeous, okay. They already changed her crazy stare at Bertolt, after all, to look more appealing. On that note...

They’ll change expressions in general because for some reason they keep doing this. Armin will look determined/angry or whatever instead of genuinely scared when he’s trying to protect Jean.

They will actually make Eren and Mikasa kiss, or change the framing to make it seem like they MIGHT have.

Random Thoughts that Aren’t Concerns:

Levi is going to be up on the wall waiting for them, I will be genuinely shocked if he isn’t.

I am also really curious if we’re going to get some allusions to who Dina is, since they had all that stuff with Ymir that wasn’t supposed to happen until season 3/4... I can see them throwing something in.

Anyway, mostly just writing this to get it out and reference later, possibly... But hopefully not.

[omgktlouchheim]

Word Vomit Wednesday - Comedic Complicity

Welcome to Word Vomit Wednesday! A series of blog posts about a specific topic from current events that I, and sometimes the rest of the Internet, ruminate obsessively about. All thoughts/opinions/experiences are my own; I don’t claim anything that I write to represent anyone other than myself.

I’m starting off this series, probably appropriately, with Tina Fey. (I’m pretty sure my use of the phrase “word vomit” began shortly after watching Mean Girls). Recently, Tina did a bit on SNL’s Weekend Update commenting on the events in Charlottesville, VA, which has garnered quite a bit of criticism. Before I get into what was said I want to point out that constructive criticism, especially for things/people we love and enjoy, is important. No one is perfect and we’re going to get things wrong. When it comes to art, in all its forms; music, comedy, film, videogames, fine arts, etc., we are being presented with a microcosm of what is happening in a larger context. We are also dealing with a particular perspective, which is immediately directing that particular microcosm. And what that all means is that, no matter what the intentions of the creator are, the things that are still fucked up (privilege, implicit biases) are going to show up and by being put out there for the public, those sentiments will then be reinforced.

Despite all the bullshit happening, that has actually been going on for way too long, a majority of us are working toward breaking down white, hetero-patriarchal institutions, ideals, and behaviors within society. In order to keep doing that and progressing forward we need to be able to call out problematic sentiments and be listened to rather than policed by people who hold more privilege and don’t understand how a joke can be damaging. Now, without further ado, let’s get into it.

Problem #1: Weaponizing the bodies of drag queens.

Drag queens are fierce as fuck, but that does not mean they should in any way expect to be the front line of defense. Portraying them as if they need to be feared only marginalizes their communities more. Which leads me to…

Problem #2: Weaponizing/creating fear around black men’s bodies.

Again, perpetuating fear of black men only makes black men more vulnerable. We already see how some cops, people that are supposed to have their shit together and protect everyone, lose their goddamn minds over seeing a black child in a hoodie. How is it that people are still equating black men with being inherently violent? Let’s cut that shit out. As enjoyable as it is to imagine people beating the shit out of Nazis, we really don’t have to sacrifice black men to do it. These fucking snowflakes give themselves strokes just by thinking about Fearless Girl.

Problem #3: Sally Hemings.

It took me three times of watching the clip to finally catch this part of her bit, mostly because all I heard was muffled noises from having so much cake in her mouth when she said it. And if it weren’t for the POC in my news feed talking about it I would not have gone back a second and third time to try and figure out what she had said. When it did come through for me, I just felt really confused and uncomfortable. I’m still confused and uncomfortable. This is just me, and I feel like I’m lacking some education as to how that joke was 100% connected to everything else she was saying, but to refer to a woman who was enslaved and consistently raped by one of the most powerful and influential men in our history as a throwaway joke at the end felt really off.

What I did think she did well, but which also upset many people, was the whole “let’s sit back and eat cake” thing. For me, this felt appropriately aimed at white women on the right and left alike. The ones who don’t want to get involved and just want everyone to be kind. The ones who think it’s enough to say they’re not racist or anti-Semitic but don’t do anything to back up those claims. The ones who think it’s enough to spend money at Jewish-owned this and POC-owned that, as if their spare change is going to do anything when those storefronts are attacked by mobs and those families forced into camps, or hiding, or murdered publicly. The ones who felt like it was in their best interest to elect a white supremacist, sexual predator and con man to be the 45th president of The United States.

White women have a reputation for phoning it in. The allusion/comparison to Marie Antoinette seems scarily accurate. Pointing to many white women’s delusions of what is happening and how it affects people and pointing out their inability to see any need to act even when their own heads are on the chopping block. White women are at once, beneficiaries of white supremacy and oppressed by the sexist and misogynistic attitudes underlying it. Seeing all that on display in a comedic context is understandably upsetting.  Mostly because it’s hard to know if the audience it was aimed at satirizing (complacent white women) was able to even recognize it. And it’s terrifying for those of us whose existence in this world is revolutionary in and of itself. Slavery, the Holocaust, the Civil Right’s Movement are all in recent memory. Those of us born with these legacies know that all of these things happened because our white neighbors either turned their heads or were participating in the physical violence.

Furthermore, and I can’t believe I have to lay this out but here it goes: If something someone says or does brings up feelings (positive or negative) it’s totally valid to say, “Fuck, this made me feel (fill in the blank).” The thing that’s not ok to do, is to retort with, “It’s a just a joke, that’s what satire is supposed to do.” If this is you, I have some words: you’re missing the point and you’re being an asshole. Jokes can still be funny when they’re not at the expense of marginalized people. I saw a lot of POC get policed about their feelings about these jokes. I saw a lot of Jews get policed about their feelings about these jokes. WHITE PEOPLE, YOU NEED TO SHUT UP. When marginalized people express concern about something, that’s your cue to take it seriously, put aside what you THINK you know, and listen. It’s an opportunity to see another perspective, and learn some empathy. I’m not saying you’re not allowed to have your own opinions, but fuck, could you please just stop hijacking conversations and making them about you? You don’t know everything and policing the thoughts and feelings of marginalized groups who do have more experience in these arenas is white supremacy in action. It’s called a micro aggression. Get used to hearing that term. You do them. A LOT.

On another note, I would like to point out how much harsher the treatment of women is in any field. In comedy, right now it’s Tina Fey while a few months ago it was Kathy Griffin. There are plenty of men out there who say heinous shit and are not called out on it at all or, if they are, they’re given a slap on the wrist or a career boost. The double standards need to go. If we’re going to put such an intense microscope on a brilliant comedian like Tina Fey, let’s be just as critical with everyone else.

 Katie Louchheim likes cake, but likes the end of white supremacy even more.