#civil war movie agere

[littlestsheriff]

cg joel (civil war) headcannons

• totally a cool dad type

• loves listening old musics (especially rock) with jessie

• can't say no for puppy eyes (jessie has him on her hand)

• can be pretty strict too, but in a lovely way

• super silly !! loves making fun

• loves to explore outside with jessie, like an adventurer

• just like jessie, he loves animals and the nature

• spoils his little one too much (sometimes to annoy lee)

• avoid smoking when Jessie is regressed

• has the best arsenal of cartoon dvds

• always tuck jessie in bed when she's regressed

• gives a lot of sweets to jessie (especially chocolate)

• super sweet and comprehensive with his girl

[ur-fav-is-agere]

Jessie from Civil War

Is an age regressor!

[dankusner]

Remembering “Gone with the Wind”

Summer, some time in the nineteen-seventies.

The world was different.

School was out, and my mother—the head of our household—worked part time in a nursery school as a teacher’s aid.

Early in the morning—she woke up hours before the world woke up—she’d hitch her trousers up and face the world.

After she left for work, we were on our own, which never felt like being left alone; we knew what she had to do to survive, which included having to trust her children during the hours she was away, hours when she was not seen but felt.

We were her first boys.

Before giving birth to me and my little brother, my parents had had four girls.

Now her daughters were in the world with children of their own, lives they described to our mother over the telephone.

The little apartment in the Flatbush section of Brooklyn was hot, next door to a gas station;

the fumes were part of our atmosphere, like the sound of kids playing ringolevio in the streets below, and the air that did not move.

I was about to be a teen-ager, and prized the idea of home; my brother was several years younger, bespectacled, and silent.

I loved him, but couldn’t be loving:

I was his older brother, and responsible for him, which meant being irritated by him, and feeling burdened by him, and sometimes treating him as our visiting father treated me: as a source of pride and incomprehension and scorn.

While our mother was at work, my brother and I made things. Bread from scratch.

Dinner.

Returning home to her little husbands, our mother smiled at what we managed to achieve, and what we wanted to achieve the next day and the next.

On Fridays, she treated us to take-out food.

We’d walk over to Flatbush Avenue, which was maybe three blocks down from where we lived, and eat pizza loaded with garlic, or beef patties from the West Indian shops that were fast replacing the neighborhood’s Jewish delicatessens.

Sometimes, on Saturdays, we’d go to the movies.

They showed serials then.

One Saturday, our mother asked if we wanted to see a film that was based on one of her favorite books—something called “Gone With the Wind.”

It was being re-released right near our house, she said—we should go.

The film was nearly four hours long.

My brother and I had never heard of such a thing. And it took place in the American South, a part of the world that was as alien to us as Manhattan or Queens.

The curtain rose, the music swelled.

The camera tracked toward a beautiful, dark-haired white woman as she said “War, war, war,” while dressed in a green dress with a full skirt.

The world was prettier up there on the screen than the world we’d eventually have to return to;

I didn’t want the movie to end:

the Civil War was the least of my problems.

Outside, there was a rapidly changing and swelling world;

the gas station would never go away.

But the heroine of this Technicolor epic got to suffer in a grand style in a not-crammed apartment.

After the house lights came up, I couldn’t wait to see the movie again, to sink into its long form and avoid those moments that made me feel ashamed—namely, whenever a black person entered the frame.

First published in 1936, Margaret Mitchell’s only novel was one of my mother’s favorites, but I didn’t know how I’d get through the book if slavery informed as much of the plot as it did in the film:

I could close my eyes in a movie and wait for a moment to pass;

this would be more difficult in a book;

words and ideas are entwined with, and depend on, other words and ideas.

But I did read the book, eventually, which felt like a blue print for the film.

Despite producer David O. Selznick’s best efforts to transpose as much of Mitchell’s text as he could to the screen, he had to leave out various subplots, of course, including Scarlett’s dependence on her beloved and scorned Mammy, played, in the film version, by Hattie McDaniel, who became the first black actress to win a Best Supporting Actress Oscar for her role.

Later, I read what other writers had to say about the film, and specifically the Mammy character.

Jamaica Kincaid published her wonderful essay “If Mammies Ruled The World” in the Village Voice, where she described that her real interest in the movie was the Mammy character—and how the white characters didn’t deserve her.

In 1992, Claudia Roth Pierpont published her essential essay about Margaret Mitchell’s life and career in The New Yorker.

I can safely say that Atlanta-born Margaret Mitchell’s worldview helped me see how racist fantasies are borne out of a kind of realism—the realism of the ignorant oppressor.

Money—i.e. slavery and commerce—is central to the story she tells because it buys safety and homogeneity in the white world.

But after blacks are “freed,” some of them becoming carpetbaggers, it’s their blackness combined with an "uppity" attitude that perverts and alarms the white Southerner, not the blood and horror of slavery, and how it came to be in the first place.

Mitchell didn’t create the white Southerner’s antebellum view of blackness, but she helped popularize it in an artifact of great strength that even my mother admired, and that writers ranging from Dubose Heyward to the Atlanta-based Tyler Perry have created some version of, especially when it comes to the Mammy.

Sadly, these attitudes inform one's present-day life, life without mother.

Just recently I was with a young, white, single mother who was complaining about school-lunch fees, unavailable men, and so on, when I said something to the effect that I didn’t remember my mother paying for our lunch when we were in school.

The woman snapped: “She didn’t have to pay! You were underprivileged!”

Before I could correct her, I felt robbed of a response: to contradict her fantasy of privilege and struggle would be to challenge her reality, utterly.

And perhaps that’s why my mother could stomach Mitchell’s various depictions of black womanhood, and of blackness itself:

we have always worn the masks in order to achieve what she had with her boys from moment to moment, in a movie theatre or at home: the hard-won luxury of survival.

Looking back, I suppose what made me turn away from the screen—and, on occasion, away from the book—was Mitchell’s lens on what Mammy and blackness meant to the characters’ whiteness, and how it improved and bolstered their entitlement and vanity, and thus their relationship to power and history.

Mitchell’s Mammy was not my own, nor could my brother’s and my joined impulse to take care of our mother be relegated to Mammying, but such was the tremendous power of Mitchell’s evocation of that figure that after I saw the film version of “Gone With The Wind” and read the book I was brought up short against my mother’s ability to care, and my own and my brother’s.

At least for a time.

[lexluvswriting]

MIFFY'S ADVENTURES: BIG & SMALL... 🌫

Rules regarding my writing! 🩶

↳ These will mainly regard requests, kinks for NSFW themes + general information.

☆ my asks are always open for requests, but pls feel free to message me!! will negotiate certain kinks (dub-con, cnc).

☆ i’ll only interact with people who have their age in their bio.

☆ If i am not able, i will not write certain requests. i will block users for my mental health. This is supposed to be a safe space.

☆ will write: male/female/gender neutral characters. fem!/gender neutral! readers. dark content/smut/mature/angst/fluff/no comfort. will write certain dark kinks (dubcon, somno, primal, consensual noncon)!

↳ dark NSFW fics will be marked! dni if you are not interested in them <3

☆ won’t write: extreme gore. no bodily fluid that isn’t spit or cum. suicide. agere, incest, stepcest, noncon.

General blog rules & disclaimers! 🩶

↳ i don't mind a bit of constructive advice and helpful criticism, but blatant mockery/bullying/harrassment is never okay!

☆ dni: blank blogs, ageless blogs, homo/trans/xeno/fat-phobes, harassers, pro shippers, anti shippers, people that send anon hate.

↳ if ur gonna degrade me like that, take me out first & do it w CHEST /j.

☆ please be civil: my blog is a safe space for art to be shared and published legitimately, but i will not tolerate ship wars, fandom politics, discrimination or hate-speech of any kind, as well as slander of myself or others on this site.

☆ i'd also like to acknowledge that there are authors who have proved to be quite problematic, as well as other content creators of various popular shows/movies. I do not agree with, nor stand by their harmful and problematic values. I'd like to think that when I write my fanfics using these borrowed characters, I write without the negative, harmful baggage from their creators.

If these terms feel too difficult to go by, please feel free to D.N.I my blog.

I only want to have fun enjoying the art of others, and enjoy creating my own.

Thank you for reading this far, enjoy my blog! 🩶

MIFFY'S ADVENTURES: BIG & SMALL... 🌫

[denimbex1986]

'...All of Us Strangers

26 January

Britain's great cinematic translator of the modern queer experience, Andrew Haigh (Weekend, 45 Years, the TV show Longing) returns with a Rizla-paper-delicate rumination on gay loneliness, love, and how grief lingers like a spectre in the corner of the room.

It's part ghost story, part nocturnal romance, part late-stage coming-of-ager. Andrew Scott stars as Adam, a depressed screenwriter working on a new script inspired by the death of his parents. For research, he visits his childhood home on the outskirts of London, only to find his mum and dad — Claire Foy and Jamie Bell, respectively — are seemingly alive and well, looking exactly as they did thirty years ago. Meanwhile, a steamy tryst blossoms with a stranger (Paul Mescal) in Adam's empty apartment complex.

It's stirring, and achingly felt. One of those movies to not see with your dad (or anyone else who you're embarrassed to watch unflinching gay sex scenes with, or endlessly cry in front of). And it's sure to stand as one of the best of the year. You can watch All of Us Strangers on Disney+ from 20 March...'

[littlestsheriff]

joel (civil war) agere moodboard

[ur-fav-is-agere]

Lee from Civil War

Is a caregiver!

[stag28]

"the rhythm of the night was disconcertingly the same, and the sheer improbability of the happenstance scarily alike. Nothing like this has remotely happened before. This wasn’t just a minor kerfuffle. This was a major malfunction. Trump cannot be President—forgetting all the bounds of ideology, no one vaguely like him has ever existed in the long list of Presidents, good, bad, and indifferent, no one remotely as oafish or as crude or as obviously unfit. People don’t say “Grab ’em by the pussy” and get elected President. Can’t happen. In the same way, while there have been Oscar controversies before—tie votes and rejected trophies—never before has there been an occasion when the entirely wrong movie was given the award, the speeches delivered, and then another movie put in its place. That doesn’t happen. Ever. [..] what is happening lately, he says, is proof that we are living in a computer simulation and that something has recently gone haywire within it. The people or machines or aliens who are supposed to be running our lives are having some kind of breakdown. There’s a glitch, and we are in it. [..] everything else begins to fall in order. The recent Super Bowl, for instance. The result, bizarre on the surface—with that unprecedented and impossible comeback complete with razzle-dazzle catches and completely blown coverages and defensive breakdowns—makes no sense at all in the “real” world. Doesn’t happen. But it is exactly what you expect to happen when a teen-ager and his middle-aged father exchange controllers in the EA Sports video-game version: the father stabs and pushes the buttons desperately while the kid makes one play after another, and twenty-five-point leads are erased in minutes, and in just that way—with ridiculous ease on the one side and chicken-with-its-head-cut-off panic infecting the other. What happened, then, one realizes with last-five-minutes-of-“The Twilight Zone” logic, is obvious: sometime in the third quarter, the omniscient alien or supercomputer that was “playing” the Patriots exchanged his controller with his teen-age offspring, or newer model, with the unbelievable result we saw. [..] and then some mischievous overlord—whether alien or artificial intelligence doesn’t matter—said, “Well, what if he did win? How would they react?” “You can’t do that to them,” the wiser, older Architect said. “Oh, c’mon,” the kid said. “It’ll be funny. Let’s see what they do!” And then it happened. We seem to be living within a kind of adolescent rebellion on the part of the controllers of the video game we’re trapped in, who are doing this for their strange idea of fun. [..] Since the advance of intelligence seems like the one constant among living things—and since living things are far likelier than not to be spread around the universe—then one of the things that smart living things will do is make simulations of other universes in which to run experiments. (We’re not all that smart, and we’re already starting to do it, modelling large interacting economies and populations on our own, presumably “primitive” computers.) Since there will be only one “real” universe, and countless simulated ones, the odds that we are living in one of the simulations instead of the one actual reality are overwhelming. [..] “A popular argument for the simulation hypothesis came from University of Oxford philosopher Nick Bostrum in 2003, when he suggested that members of an advanced civilization with enormous computing power might decide to run simulations of their ancestors. They would probably have the ability to run many, many such simulations, to the point where the vast majority of minds would actually be artificial ones within such simulations, rather than the original ancestral minds. So simple statistics suggest it is much more likely that we are among the simulated minds.” The implicit dread logic is plain. If we are among the simulated minds, then we exist in order to be stimulated minds: we exist in order for the controllers to run experiments. Until recently, our simulation, the Matrix within which we were unknowingly imprisoned, seemed in reasonably sound hands. Terrible things did happen as the cold-blooded, unemotional machines that ran it experimented with the effects of traumatic events—wars, plagues, “Gilligan’s Island”—on hyper-emotionalized programs such as us. And yet the basic logic of the enfolding program seemed sound. Things pinned down did not suddenly drift toward the ceiling; cats did not go to Westminster; Donald Trump did not get elected President; the movie that won Best Picture was the movie that won Best Picture. Now everything has gone haywire, and anything can happen. [..] is our alien overlords’ funding threatened, thus forcing them to “show results” to the grant-giving institution that doubtless oversees all the simulations? [..] Or perhaps, [..] it’s just that someone forgot to plug in an important part of the machine, and, when they spot the problem, they’ll plug us back in to the usual psychological circuits. Let’s hope for a sudden mysterious surge of energy, and then normalcy again. But don’t count on it. Expect the worst. Oh, wait. It’s already happened."

[littlestsheriff]

regressor jessie cullen headcannons

• regress to 3-10

• in general, is super sweet, clingy and emotional

• super curious kid !! loves exploring the nature, looking after animals

• she has an diary, when she's feeling like a big kid, she likes to write about the things she saw during the day, especially about nature and animals

• artist kiddo !! loves art, glitter, crayons, paint, coloring pencils, colored papers and origami

• loves stuffies, blankets, all type of fluffy and cozy things

• joel and her love to watch old cartoons

• she loves when Lee styles her hair

• super needy when sleepy

• always asks Joel for a piggyback ride

• sometimes asks Lee to cook with her

[littlestsheriff]

jessie cullen agere moodboard

[littlestsheriff]

lee agere moodboard

[ur-fav-is-agere]

Joel from Civil War

Is a caregiver!