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dalessandra01 · 13 days

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Between love and family — Prologue

By @dalessandra01

Post canon, fluff, father-daughter bonding, child perspective

Summary:

“Little Violet starts to ask herself some questions regarding the affection she sees between her parents. Yet, she doesn’t feel ready to ask them about it. She takes it upon herself to conduct a search that will led to her first official portrait.”

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Violet knew she was loved.

Even though she wasn’t old enough to understand many other things about the world, she knew that she knew about this topic.

Yes, from the wisdom that came from her six years of age, Violet Eloise Bridgerton was sure that she could have explained what love was even to the most obtuse.

In fact, it was quite simple to catch on; she had never understood why adults made it sound so complicated.

Love was in the way her father held her on his lap while he painted on the canvas, and it was in her mother’s caresses when she greeted her first thing in the morning.

It was there when her brother Charles lifted her onto his shoulders to reach a high shelf, in the silly faces Alexander did when he tried to make her laugh after a fall, or in the times when William decided to share the last biscuit with her.

And knowing her brother’s voracity, if that wasn’t love.

Violet was a happy child because she was certain that many people loved her.

Yet, as she grew older, she became more aware that there was a difference between the affection she gave and received.

And this doubt was shaking her certainties. It was something entirely foreign to her, but apparently it was there. It had always been there.

And she had never noticed it.

Although it was everywhere, and especially in front of her every day. Manifested in the way her parents looked at each other.

This often led the little girl to ask herself many questions:

Why did her mother’s eyes seem to shine brighter when her father looked at her?

And why did he kiss her on the mouth? What was so special about that kiss that made her mother blush so much?

And with that thought in mind, she had started to observe them more closely, following them wherever they went like a little hound.

She didn’t yet have an explanation, but it was clear that what was between her parents made them so happy. Sophie’s smile grew wider when her husband was present, so radiant it could make the sun envious, and he, in response, would take those extra seconds to whisper something in her ear before leaving the room.

The end result was always a slight flush on her mother’s cheeks. How strange.

Yet, if it was Violet or one of her brothers whispering at the table, they were always scolded. It was all so confusing.

Whatever that feeling was, it was so special that it did not adhere to any rules. So evident, and yet, at the same time, jealously guarded. It was such a puzzle that many children her age would have already lost interest, but not her.

She must have inherited both parents' stubbornness as she was determined to carry out this investigation and would not stop until she got a satisfactory explanation. But for that, she needed the right tools.

More than once, when visiting her aunt Eloise, she had noticed that her husband, uncle Philip, wrote down all the discoveries he made in the greenhouse in a notebook. It made sense that she should do the same for her own.

But... how does one describe something they do not understand?

Being the daughter of an artist, it was worth expressing herself in an alternative way. Her father always said that an image could communicate more than a thousand words.

So, one summer afternoon, she took some paper, a pencil, and sat down on one of the kitchen chairs while Mrs. Crabtree prepared tea.

She started by drawing one line, then another, and another one... until her mother’s face appeared.

She lifted the sheet and tilted her head.

Yet, there was still missing something.

«Oh, Miss, you’ve done a wonderful job!» exclaimed Mrs. Crabtree.

It was only then that Violet realized that perhaps drawing so close to her governess wasn’t exactly a great idea. Especially if she wanted to keep this search a secret:

«You have your father’s talent,» the old woman commented, placing the freshly baked biscuits on the table.

Violet looked back and forth between her and the piece of paper, wondering, what she had done that was so extraordinary. Her father had painted his wife many times, and each painting was far superior to what his daughter had done.

She was mature enough to see the gap between his works and her own doodle, so she thought it was the same for everyone.

«Heavens, I was wondering just the other day when one of you children would show an artistic streak,» Violet opened her mouth but didn’t even try to interrupt her; when Mrs. Crabtree started talking, it was impossible to stop her.

«Oh—! Mr. Bridgerton, just in time!»

And at that phrase, the little girl wished the floor would swallow her up.

When he was working on a new canvas, Benedict never left his work area, and if he needed to put something in his stomach, Sophie was always more than happy to bring it to him personally. But, for their daughter’s great misfortune, that afternoon she had gone to the village with Mr. Crabtree and the three older sons.

Violet made herself as small as possible, more than she already was. She hadn’t made that drawing for her father to see. In fact, no one should have seen it.

«I could hear you from my studio, Mrs. Crabtree,» he said in a light tone,

«Take a look at your daughter’s work, and you’ll understand my enthusiasm.»

At the woman’s reply, Benedict Bridgerton raised an eyebrow in confusion. And when his gaze landed on his daughter, she seriously considered running away.

But given her father’s stature, she wouldn’t have gotten far before he caught her again. Perhaps not even a step.

Since her initial plan was destined to fail, she simply took the sheet and held it close to her chest.

Swallowing it would be too suspicious, and they might pull it out of her mouth before she could manage it.

«Tell me…what is Mrs. Crabtree talking about?» he asked, bending down so he could look her in the eyes.

«Oh, nothing much. Mrs. Crabtree is very old, sometimes she exaggerates, you know».

She immediately regretted the impertinence of her comment, especially upon hearing the offended gasp of the ‘very old’ woman in question.

«Oh really?», Benedict tilted his head to the side with a lopsided smirk; he didn't need to do anything more for his daughter to understand that he didn’t believe her at all.

«If it’s nothing important, then you won’t have any problem showing me that paper, mind you?» he said, reaching to take it from her hands, but Violet clutched it even more tightly to herself.

«I’d rather not.» she replied, shaking her head vigorously.

«Why?» he asked, pouting his lower lip to woo her over, or more likely, to make her laugh enough to yield. Benedict would have preferred to lose both hands than to see her actually upset.

«You’re being unfair, my dear daughter. Why can Mrs. Crabtree see what you’ve done and I can’t?»

«Mrs. Crabtree wasn’t supposed to see it.» Violet replied, casting a glare at the elderly woman over her father’s shoulder. She loved her almost as much as she loved her grandmother Violet, but if she found herself in that situation now, it was entirely Mrs. Crabtree’s fault.

But evidently, Mrs. Crabtree must have mistook this as a form of false modesty and therefore continued to praise her, probably raising her father’s expectations of her:

«I assure you, Mr. Bridgerton, for her age, it’s a very well-done portrait,» she turned to Violet with a meaningful gesture of her hand, «Come on, young lady, no one better than your father should see your work.»

The little girl pursed her lips into a small pout, but why did grown-ups always like to see things the way they wanted? She was convinced she had done nothing special and least of all wanted to explain what she had done.

Instead, she was now forced to show something just because the governess couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

Benedict looked his daughter up and down, spent a few seconds in silence before placing a comforting hand on her shoulder:

«Violet, you’re not obliged to show it to me if you don’t want to,» he said in a less playful tone. Violet immediately worried about looking for any sign of disappointment in his gaze, but as always when it came to her, her father showed nothing but complete understanding.

«I’m curious, I admit, but I want you to show it to me willingly,» he ruffled her hair with the same hand he had placed on her shoulder and took a biscuit with the other.

«Mrs. Crabtree, save the rest for Sophie and the boys for when they come back,» he ordered before giving his daughter a wink and returning to his paintings.

Violet watched him before turning her attention back to the paper.

Now that she looked at it again... it wasn’t so bad, and maybe her father could tell her what was missing that made it seem like she hadn’t quite captured the point.

She jumped off the chair with a bounce, a biscuit between her lips, and hurried into her father’s studio with an urgency she couldn’t even explain.

She thought she heard Mrs. Crabtree chuckle, but didn’t pay much attention.

The door leading to her father’s private studio was very thick, and the handle was still too high for her to reach without standing on tiptoe.

Yet, she only needed to push gently with one hand to make it open.

Unlike other times, it wasn’t locked.

«How did you know I was coming?» asked the little girl, seeing how Benedict, instead of being engrossed in his canvas, was sitting with his arms crossed right towards the daughter who was now in the doorway, almost as if he had been expecting her.

«I know you very well,» he replied with a shrug.

«Do you have something to show me?» And at that point, Violet felt her earlier insecurity rising up again.

This was her father; he loved her, he would never judge her.

He didn’t do it when she came back dirty from playing outside, and he wouldn’t do it now.

But what if he didn’t like it? Or worse.

What if he understood her intent?

What if he scolded her for trying to understand a feeling he had often reminded her she was too young to grasp?

Perhaps adult love wasn’t meant to be understood by a child because maybe it was meant to remain secret.

And she shouldn’t have dared to uncover it. Just like when Alexander told her not to open the attic trunk or she would end up disturbing the monster inside.

But before her brain could make a decision, her body moved on its own.

Taking small steps, the distance between her and her father grew smaller. She kept her gaze low as she handed him the sheet.

Benedict took it with the same delicacy as he would pick up a fallen bird and spent a few seconds in silence before giving letting out a soft gasp.

«Oh,» he held it up against the light and tilted his head to the side,

«Well. I’m almost jealous, you know?»

«Really?»

Benedict smiled at her.

The pride was clear in the sparkle of his blue eyes.

«Yours is certainly a raw talent, Miss Violet Bridgerton, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a spontaneous portrayal of your mother,» he said in the perfect tone of an art critic. «And I say that as an artist who has painted this subject many times.»

Violet couldn’t believe it, but something still left her perplexed.

«What does ‘raw’ mean?» she asked, confused by the unfamiliar term.

She had heard it a couple of times before but had never paid attention.

It was odd how sometimes you don’t notice a word until it’s directed at you.

But if she remembered correctly, Charles had described William that way during tea time.

Right when the youngest of her older brothers had launched himself at the cheeses.

And given the tone, it certainly hadn’t seemed like a compliment.

Benedict chuckled before picking her up and setting her on his lap.

«It means you still have a long way to go, but you have great potential.» he said, brushing a couple of strands of hair from her face.

«Do you really think so?» she asked hopefully.

That hadn’t exactly been her original aim, but she had always admired her father’s work, and hearing from him that she had talent made her feel good.

«Of course I do. I’m sure your mother will love your drawing.» he commented, placing it back in her hands.

At that moment, Violet lowered her eyes to her work again, and suddenly, as if it had been magically improved while they were apart, it seemed much better.

But upon hearing her father’s last sentence, she almost felt guilty.

She had earned compliments for something that had, in fact, aimed to reveal a secret that perhaps her parents didn’t want to tell her.

And even though the drawing seemed better now that she looked at it again, something was still missing. When she turned her head towards the canvas and observed her father’s unfinished painting, she finally understood:

«That’s what’s missing.» she said, pointing at it. Benedict raised an eyebrow and looked towards his painting.

«’What’s missing…?’» he repeated, confused. Violet nodded.

«Mum’s smile,» she paused, just long enough to gather courage and decide if it was worth revealing her doubts.

«It’s that smile she makes when she looks at you.»

Her father’s expression softened; he seemed to have reached a conclusion of his own. He looked back at the canvas then at her:

«You mean the expression people have when they’re in love?» he asked, and although hesitant, the little girl nodded again.

«Dad, what does it mean to be in love?» she finally dared to ask out loud.

Maybe she had spent too much time overthinking it when the simplest thing to do was just ask.

Her father raised his head, taking a few moments to reflect before letting out a sigh:

«That’s a good question,» he began, «but I don’t think there’s a definitive answer.»

Violet was now possibly more confused than before.

Was she doomed to remain uncertain?

«I know it seems strange to you,» he said, as if he was reading her thoughts, «many poets, writers, and artists have asked themselves the same question and continue to do so.»

«Even you?»

«Even me,»he admitted. «That’s why I keep painting your mother.»

Her parents seemed so sure of their feelings; she could see it clearly.

Yet it seemed like a contradiction that her father would say he needed to keep painting because he couldn’t explain what he felt.

Adults really were strange.

They claimed to know everything, yet when asked a question, they never seemed to have an answer.

«But then...» she ventured, unwilling to accept that kind of response.

It didn’t make sense, and she refused to believe that something practically under her nose had no explanation,

«How did you know you wanted to marry Mum?».

Her father’s reaction was strange, but it always was when it came to his wife.

He wasn’t even looking at her anymore; his gaze was fixed on the unfinished canvas, as if waiting for it to start speaking for him. A few more seconds of silence passed, during which he gently stroked her small hand between his fingers.

«I didn’t know,» he admitted. «Not at first, at least. But I knew. I knew from the very beginning that she was the woman for me.»,

«But isn’t that the same thing?» Violet asked.

«Not exactly,»he corrected her. «The mind and the heart don’t always work hand in hand.»

Benedict let out a small laugh before looking back into his daughter’s confused eyes.

«It was… the way she looked around. Your mother glowed that night, just because she was happy to be there,» he sighed, «and I wanted to know that happiness.»

Violet watched him closely.

She could sense the depth behind those words. It seemed as if her father had been transported back in time as he spoke, almost as if he was reliving that moment.

That instant when Sophie was coming down the staircase and he saw his beloved for the first time.

«Sorry, Dad, but I still don’t think I understand…» Benedict turned back to his daughter with a small smile. Violet couldn’t tell whether her confusion amused him or not.

But he must have realised that she needed something more practical if she was going to grasp the point.

«Let’s just say that my life before your mother was like this,» he covered her face with his much bigger hand, «Dark and without colour.»

The little girl blinked a couple of times, adjusting to the light once he moved his hand away.

«Then she came along, and the world lit up again,» he concluded, placing a kiss on her temple.

«One day, you’ll understand better what I mean.» he said, putting her down.

It wasn’t exactly the answer she had expected, but it was something more tangible. Maybe she couldn’t understand what her parents had because it was something exclusively theirs.

But that didn’t mean she would never understand. She just had to wait.

«And what do I do in the meantime?» she asked.

«Keep drawing. Art can help you explore the world around you.»

And Violet couldn’t help but agree with those words. After all, she had enjoyed sharing that moment with her father.

And if she really was destined to be the one to take after him in an artistic sense, she might as well keep recording everything around her in that special way.

«Can I stay here with you to finish my drawing?»

«If you promise to behave.»

«I always behave.» she said in an almost haughty tone, before going to sit in one of the armchairs.

«We’ll see,» Benedict concluded with a chuckle.

That evening, when Sophie retrieved a copy of “Tales from Shakespeare” from the shelf, the same book she had been reading to their daughter before bed over the past few days, Benedict made sure to take it from her hands, causing her confusion.

«Benedict—»he shushed her, pressing a finger to her lips, the same cheeky smile that had made her fall in love with him spread across his face.

«I know you couldn’t wait to read her Romeo and Juliet, darling, but…» he placed the book back on the shelf before taking his wife’s hands in his.

«I think tonight Violet wants to hear a story with a happy ending.»

Sophie’s expression softened, and she couldn’t help but smile at his tone.

«What story did you have in mind?» she asked, and he brought her knuckles to his lips kissing them.

«I was thinking of telling her about a mysterious lady in silver,» he began, wrapping an arm around her waist, «and how her mere presence made me fall hopelessly in love.»

«Do you think she’s ready?» she asked him, hesitantly.

«I’m sure of it.» her husband reassured her.

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911bts · 10 months

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Thank you for your effort. I hope it's ok if I ask you that. What happens if the actors vote against the contract? Will there be an immediate strike? And do you know how many episodes of 9-1-1 there will be? LS has probably been reduced to 12. Have a nice day.

"If it were rejected by the membership, that would not automatically mean the union would go back on strike. The union would have to return to the bargaining table without a guarantee that the current terms would remain in place, Crabtree-Ireland said Monday."

This is a quote from a variety article that was posted about a conversation that the negotiating leaders had about AI.

And it really depends on when the show is coming back for number of episodes.

If it's gonna be in the spring, I'd expect around 10 (give or take a few episodes).

If it's fall, probably a full 18 (maybe even more).

Lone Star has 12 because Fox is well Fox. (They have such a bad business model).

ABC would be determining number of episodes here and aren't doing the bullshit that Fox does.

#anon #answered

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tonixe · 1 year

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Do you still do South Park fics if so may I request a Kenny with a twin sister reader (platonic of course I hate how I have to specify this)

Kenny with a Twin Sister

n.o.t.e.s - Ofc, but how does someone ship siblings, I don't get how you really ship two people that are related and really write about incest like it is a normal thing. I just don't get that tbh.

w.a.r. n. - Fluff

p.a.i.r.i.n.g. - siblings bonding together Kenny and his twin sister.

w.c - 1.2k

Waking up from your bed or well mattress on the floor, as you got up from it, throwing the fabric onto your 'bed'. As you looked outside, at the fluffy white scene outside.

Looking at the time, it was 10 mins before the bus arrived to pick you, Kenny, and Karen, to school. While you rushed at your feet to Kenny's room, "Kenny, wake up!" you yelled, hitting him. Just for your advances to be in vain as he grumbled and covered himself with a blanket.

"Kenny" you yelled kicking him off his bed, hearing him fall down with a 'thump', groaning in pain. As he shot you a glare, "You're welcome, now get ready, the bus is going to be here in-" You checked the broken alarm clock "EIGHT MINUTES" you yelled, before you rushed to Karen's room, waking her up. Dashing out to get ready yourself. Before you went to the kitchen grab some leftover Eggo waffles from dinner.

As you gave one to the still-sleepy Karen, as she took her backpack eating the waffle. "Finally, you're up" you exclaimed, throwing him the waffle as he catches it, "Thanks," he said, before eating and zipping up his parka.

You bit your waffle, as you grabbed your own backpack and walked out of the runt down grabbed your backpack. Walking towards the bus station, the coldness of the weather makes you shake. "You, okay?" Kenny said through his parka, even though it was mostly muffed but still understandable to you.

"Yea, just don't want to go to school, you know," you said, staring at the Colorado sky.

"Yeah," he muttered, as he looked at the broken concrete. As you guys arrived at the bus stop, you and Karen sat on the bench, while Kenny went to talk to his friends. Karen laid her head on your shoulder, taking a nap.

The bus arrived at the stop, you never liked the bus driver, Ms. Crabtree. She was scared, and a bird even lives in her hair. She was always cranky, as you woke her up. Holding her hand, helping her up the bus steps. The bus driver nagged at you, as you waved to a few of your friends, Wendy and Bebe.

Walking into the bus, sitting next to Karen. Placing your backpack as a pillow for her. You heard some yelling from the back of the bus, and to your not-surprising pleasure, it your, of course, your twin brother and his friend, you glance them a glare, and put one of your fingers to your lip, motioning them to shut up. As you covered Karen's ears before she heard anything else coming out of their mouths.

Before you could even relax on the bus, you heard Eric yell at Kyle, "IM NOT FUCKING FAT, IM BIG BONED KYLE!" he yelled. You groaned out, before rubbing your face, laying your head further into the uncomfortable seat.

The bus soon moved over the bumpy road, looking into the window, as evergreen tree was racing by you. Trying to occupy yourself before you get to school. But soon everything went black, as you yawned out, and closed your eyes.

"Hey, wake up Y/N!" you woke up, staring at Kenny shaking you. "Get up, we're here," he said before he walked out of the bus. You woke up Karen, got her out of the bus, walked into the school, before you walked Karen to her kindergarten class, giving her backpack to her, before giving her and hug and waving at your old kindergarten teacher.

You stopped by your locker to place your backpack in your locker and get some of your books. Walking down to your own classroom, before the bell ranged, Mr. Garrision wasn't in the classroom, weirdly enough. The whole classroom was just talking as you sat by yourself, looking at the window prompting your arm up and putting your face onto your palm, tapping your fingers on the desk.

"Hey Y/N," Bebe gave you a whisper-yell, as you looked at moved closer to her, "Did you know Mr. Garrision is absent today" she said, "I heard he was fired or something, so we're probably getting sub today" she finished.

"Really," you said, "Yea really," she said, before the sub came in, with some papers. And class started.

Soon the class was over, and it was time for lunch. You got up, get your things, walking into the lunchroom. As you sat with your friends, eating some of the school lunch, at least today was good. The food looked edible this time, as you got some glances from Clyde.

Clyde was your crush; you had a crush on him ever since when you were in 2nd grade. You immediately blushed when he glances at you, you never told Kenny because of what he was going to say to you about him.

As you looked at your lunch, playing with it. Before the girls were looking at you curiously. "Y/N, he's looking at you" Wendy nudged at you, smiling you.

Before something hit you lightly, as you saw it was a yellow post it, as you unwrapped it, smiling, as the girl looked at you with a smile. "What does it say Y/N!" Red said, leaning towards you.

"It says do you like me, and check box for yes or no" you whisper nervously, "Say yes!" Nichole said, smiling at you.

"Okay!" you exclaimed, "I need a pen!" Wendy immediately gives you a pen, as you check out the yes box. Before throwing the note back to Clyde, as you are waiting for him to say something, anxiously looking at him unwrapping the note before looking at you and laughing.

Your heart immediately dropped, "Um, I need to go" you whispered, before running straight to the bathroom, Kenny saw your running form, running out of the cafeteria. Before he looked at Clyde and the boys laughing around him, expect for Kyle and Craig. "What happen"

"Holy Shit, I never knew Y/N ever liked Clyde" Eric snickered, "Wait what," Kenny said, "What the fuck, Clyde" Kenny yelled at him, before running after you.

"It was just a prank, Kenny" Clyde said, "Well don't fucking do those pranks to my fucking twin sister, asshole" he yelled out.

Kenny knew his twin sister well enough, to know where your favorite spot was at school, behind the school risers. "Y/N" Kenny whispered out; he heard your sniffingly. You looked up from your knees. "What do you want," you said, sniffling out, wiping your tears.

"Why didn't you tell me, you liked Clyde," Kenny said, putting his hands into his pockets, slumping down to you. "I didn't know you would care" you said.

"Well, I do. Why would you like that fucking asshole" he snapped, looking at you.

"Well, how the fuck am I supposed to know" you yelled, tear dripping down from your face.

"God" Kenny whispered, looking from the bench.

"Well, what he did was not fucking okay" Kenny said, you looked at him.

"You shouldn't be wasting your tears over him, Y/N" he cocked his head at you.

You sniffed, "You know what would make it better, beating the shit out of Clyde" Kenny said, "Isn't he your friend" you said.

"Well, not anymore, he fucked with you, he was a total asshole to you" Kenny exclaimed, before getting up. Giving hand to you, as you took it and got up.

"Now, let's give Clyde a piece our mind" Kenny said giving you a fist bump, "fist bump?"

"Fist Bump" you laughed, as you bumped him up, while you guys crack some jokes walking back to the cafeteria.

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feministsouthpark · 3 months

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South Park Filler Guide - Season 2

Link for Part 1

I find the existence of filler guides quite amusing, since for some shows it makes sense (like Naruto), but for others (like Pokemon) it absolutely doesn't and they still exist. So here is an attempt to do an absolutely unnecessary one just for fun. 😅

The classifications are CANON (an episode with major storylines present), LORE (in which we get significant backstory or world building, but could be skippable) and FILLER (completely skippable episodic storytelling, not connected to overarching story arcs)

PLS my analysis will have spoilers, if you're a first time viewer, just scroll to the bottom and read the list and only read full text if you are familiar with the content of the show already!

S2E1 Terrance and Phillip in Not Without My Anus is FILLER

This is the definition of filler, and not even a good filler, but the one that drags. The whole episode is a waste of time, and a horrible season opener if you ask me. I don't even care if Saddam Hussein dies in this one, skip it anyway, all you need to know for his next appearance is that he is already dead, which will be obvious and TBH since the movie gives a different story about his death, this one might as well take place in an alternate continuity. S2E2 Cartman's Mom is Still a Dirty Slut is CANON

We're back with the conclusion of the season 1 mystery. For now. S2E3 Ike's Wee Wee is CANON

Kyle learns the secret of his brother and he also gets a great deal of character development that makes this episode a must-watch. S2E4 Chickenlover is FILLER

A great character episode for Officer Barbrady, nontheless a filler half hour of the show. S2E5 Conjoined Fetus Lady is FILLER

One might enjoy this one for Pip. Or for Nurse Gollum. But not for its long-lasting consequences, that one is for sure. S2E6 The Mexican Staring Frog of Southern Sri Lanka is LORE

This one is debatable, and the one that I would think most people would actually debate on, since most of it is a one off story, however there is a single scene at the end with Satan and Saddam, which acts as foreshadowing for the movie, so that one scene provides context, however the movie is enjoyable without this little introduction. S2E7 City on the Edge of Forever (Flashbacks) is FILLER

Again, you can't make more specific filler content than a whole episode that is just a dream. Stan dreams that Eric dreams that Ms. Crabtree falls in love. S2E8 Summer Sucks is FILLER

I was thinking about the Mr. Twig storyline. It does build up Herbert's identity as a gay man. However looking at it, this doesn't seem like manga original content, rather, this hits every usual beat of an anime-exclusive filler arc. Edit: I know South Park is not based on a manga, it's an elaborate joke. S2E9 Chef's Chocolate Salty Balls is FILLER

Anything that gets brought up later from this episode is counted as filler content, so in the long run it doesn't matter. S2E10 Chickenpox is FILLER

Stuart and Gerald get some backstory, but otherwise the whole story is a one-off. S2E11 Roger Ebert Should Lay off the Fatty Foods is FILLER

I believe this one was expected. Nothing in this episode matters by the next. S2E12 Clubhouses is FILLER

Randy and Sharon divorce. They get back together by the end. Bebe likes Kyle. She doesn't by the end of the episode. Typical filler stuff. S2E13 Cow Days is FILLER

The Terrance and Phillip dolls never appear again. Neither does Eric believing himself to be a Vietnamese prostitute called Ming Lee have any consequences. S2E14 Chef Aid is FILLER

Herbert Garrison's filler arc with Mr. Twig comes to an end. Chef sleeps with a lot of women. End of episode. S2E15 Spookyfish is FILLER

I love this episode, but Sharon being crazy and all the paralell universe stuff are solely for this one. S2E16 Merry Christmas Charlie Manson! is FILLER

Eric now has a bunch of family members, none of which we ever see again. S2E17 Gnomes is CANON

It may come as a surprise after such a long string of fillers, but since the gnomes return and Tweek becomes a major player later, it only makes sense for this episode to be seen as fairly plot-heavy. S2E18 Prehistoric Ice Man is FILLER

Stan and Kyle get into a fight and then make up. The iceman never returns.

… SPOILER-FREE RUNDOWN

Again, CANON means you should watch it, FILLER means you can skip it, LORE is somewhere in-between, any episode with the LORE label will have an explanation that helps you decide if you should include it or not.

S2E1 Terrance and Phillip in Not Without My Anus is FILLER S2E2 Cartman's Mom is Still a Dirty Slut is CANON S2E3 Ike's Wee Wee is CANON S2E4 Chickenlover is FILLER S2E5 Conjoined Fetus Lady is FILLER S2E6 The Mexican Staring Frog of Southern Sri Lanka is LORE* S2E7 City on the Edge of Forever (Flashbacks) is FILLER S2E8 Summer Sucks is FILLER S2E9 Chef's Chocolate Salty Balls is FILLER S2E10 Chickenpox is FILLER S2E11 Roger Ebert Should Lay off the Fatty Foods is FILLER S2E12 Clubhouses is FILLER S2E13 Cow Days is FILLER S2E14 Chef Aid is FILLER S2E15 Spookyfish is FILLER S2E16 Merry Christmas Charlie Manson! is FILLER S2E17 Gnomes is CANON S2E18 Prehistoric Ice Man is FILLER *Only for its last scene if you want a tease for the movie. Personal notes: You may notice that this season is a lot less plot-heavy than the previous one, with only 3 canon episodes out of 18 compared to the 9 out of 13 in the first.

#south park #kyle broflovski #herbert garrison #mr garrison #chef south park #south park filler guide #ike broflovski #eric cartman #mr twig #mr hat #terrance and phillip #tweek tweak #pip pirrup #pip pirrip #officer barbrady

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chryssta · 2 years

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Another video clip from today's hike up Crabtree Waterfall trail. I absolutely love it up there, even if the trail itself is rather painful a climb.

#blue ridge mountains #photography #virginia #waterfall #hiking #crabtree mountain #fall colors

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whiteshipnightjar · 1 year

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Does art make a difference?

Aw, sure. Of course there are degrees of extremity to the potential change that art can effect, depending on how many people are able to engage with it. The Beatles made a huge difference in the world. But Henry Darger, Jeff McKissack, Karen Dalton, Pauline Oliveros, Kenneth Patchen – there are so many folks who have made great art and not gotten massively famous for it, yet I think there are all sorts of ways their work informs and shapes other people’s work, and brains, and decisions.

Should politics and art mix?

Well, everything mixes, the New Statesman! That’s like asking if a knee-reflex hammer and a quadriceps tendon should “mix”.

Is your work for the many or for the few?

That’s for the many/few to say. I just crank out the hot jams.

If you were world leader, what would be your first law?

Gravity. I feel like we need to tighten up the constitutional protections that particular law enjoys. It’s a ticking time bomb, if you ask me.

Who would be your top advisers?

Cute angel on one shoulder, cute devil on the other.

What, if anything, would you censor?

Maybe we could all agree to not bust each other’s chops all cut-dang day.

If you had to banish one public figure, who would it be?

Don’t know, banishment might be a little extreme, but I’d sure like to take that Stephen Hawking dude down a notch or two. Right? Are you with me?

What are the rules that you live by?

Basically, “bros before hos”. I feel like if you stay true to that, everything else just kind of falls into place.

Do you love your country?

I love William Faulkner, Dolly Parton, fried chicken, Van Dyke Parks, the Grand Canyon, Topanga Canyon, bacon cheeseburgers with horseradish, Georgia O’Keeffe, Grand Ole Opry, Gary Snyder, Gilda Radner, Radio City Music Hall, Big Sur, Ponderosa pines, Southern BBQ, Highway One, Kris Kristofferson, National Arts Club in New York, Ruth Crawford Seeger, Joni Mitchell, Ernest Hemingway, Harriet Tubman, Hearst Castle, Ansel Adams, Kenneth Jay Lane, Yuba River, South Yuba River Citizens League, “Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore”, “Hired Hand”, “The Jerk”, “The Sting”, “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid”, clambakes, lobster rolls, s’mores, camping in the Sierra Nevadas, land sailing in the Nevada desert, riding horseback in Canyon de Chelly; Walker Percy, Billie Holiday, Drag City, Chez Panisse/Alice Waters/slow food movement, David Crosby, Ralph Lauren,San Francisco Tape Music Center, Albert Brooks, Utah Phillips, Carol Moseley Braun, Bolinas CA, Ashland OR, Lawrence KS, Austin TX, Bainbridge Island WA, Marilyn Monroe, Mills College, Elizabeth Cotton, Carl Sandburg, the Orange Show in Houston, Toni Morrison, Texas Gladden, California College of Ayurvedic Medicine, Louis Comfort Tiffany, Saturday Night Live, Aaron Copland, Barack Obama, Oscar de la Renta, Alan Lomax, Joyce Carol Oates, Fred Neil, Henry Cowell, Barneys New York, Golden Gate Park, Musee Mechanique, Woody Guthrie, Maxfield Parrish, Malibu, Maui, Napa Valley, Terry Riley, drive-in movies, homemade blackberry ice cream from blackberries picked on my property, Lil Wayne, Walt Whitman, Halston, Lavender Ridge Grenache from Lodi CA, Tony Duquette, Julia Morgan, Lotta Crabtree, Empire Mine, North Columbia Schoolhouse, Disneyland, Nevada County Grandmothers for Peace; Roberta Flack, Randy Newman, Mark Helprin, Larry David, Prince; cooking on Thanksgiving; Shel Siverstein, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Radziwill, Jackie Onassis, E.B. White, William Carlos Williams, Jay Z, Ralph Stanley, Allen Ginsberg, Cesar Chavez, Harvey Milk, RFK, Rosa Parks, Arthur Miller, “The Simpsons”, Julia Child, Henry Miller, Arthur Ashe, Anne Bancroft, The Farm Midwifery Center in TN, Martha Graham, Alvin Ailey, Jr., Eleanor Roosevelt, Clark Gable, Harry Nilsson, Woodstock, and some other stuff. Buuuut, the ol’ U S of A can pull some pretty dick moves. I’m hoping it’ll all come out in the wash...

Are we all doomed?

If we keep our expectations pretty low I think we might be fine. I mean, we’re definitely all dying at some point. There’s no getting around that. But between now and then, things might start looking up!

— Joanna Newsom for The New Statesman, 2008

#joanna newsom #isn't she simultaneously just the most hilarious and thoughtful person?#i love her so much #a few people have asked me for that one quote about loving her country but the whole interview is a real gem i hope y'all enjoy it #love joanna #jnew

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