#i do think there's a better balance to be struck between the open world concept and the complex zelda dungeons of old than we've gotten

[kitkatt0430]

I've never liked the ReDead. Creepy, screaming, undead things. Though making them dance in Majora's Mask always amuses me. But. Ugh. ReDead.

The Gibdo were slightly better. Less creepy design, though if I'm remembering correctly they could have the bandages burned off and reveal the ReDead underneath in some of the games. Yeah.

But there's something particularly unnerving about the Gibdo in Tears of the Kingdom. The design is distinctly ReDead-esque, occasionally with pretty moth wings thrown in. And the hive-like behavior is unsettling. They're evil insects that either infest dead bodies or evolved to look like dead bodies. And both ideas are fascinating, but...

It is not making it any easier for me to navigate the poorly lit Lightning Temple when the Gibdo are smacking my 'creeped out' buttons. At least these guys don't scream. They just... unnaturally elongate their spines as they get closer to a victim.

Of course its the temple that actually looks like a real Zelda dungeon that has the horror elements in it. *sigh* Careful what I wish for, indeed.

[shallowseeker]

SPNwin & how Dean is on a road of self discovery and introspection, perhaps even trudging through the middling phase of grieving his own life

///

Reeling from the end of his life

Following the existential crises and severe moral injury Dean was struck by in events of season 15, it appears that even in Heaven, Dean is still struggling with meaning making.

He's not at peace.

Jack gently chides him for not accepting peace, almost as if the situation went like this: Dean begged for work and Jack relented on the promise of NOT interfering.

So, what's Dean trying to puzzle out?

The core Dean question for me looms large:

Was my life meaningful? Maybe I didn't do enough.

Maybe if my life were different, more perfect and cookie cutter, my life would have added up to something satisfactory.

Dean does not yet believe what Cas told him in 15x18. Dean is still reaching for that ephemeral specter of "perfect" life. As Amara might say, he has not yet accepted his life as it was. Is it penance? Is it healing? I think it's a little of both.

It feels a lit like the bargaining stage of grief to be honest. "If only I could find a place A was possible, I could accept B.

Bobby and Jack are gently nudging Dean forward

I'm not big brain enough to sort out the plot stuff: portals and between worlds, but I loved seeing Bobby and Jack.

Bobby seems wry, careful--almost tiptoeing around Dean.

Jack feels a touch overworked, exhausted, maybe even annoyed.

I think the Chuck traps must be numerous, all throughout the universe. Also, Jack was "the calvary" in this instance that Bobby was running to get. :)

Jack is allowing Dean to "work" through his grief of living (and dying)

Jack's allowing Dean to stay busy and help but is clearly conflicted about the decision to do so. Dean's not in a great headspace, but he seems to be healing a bit, while at the same time reeling from the sum total of his life.

It's no accident that so much of The Winchesters reckons with hunting as a concept. In the end, AU!Mary finds the balance of choosing a life that isn't an "apple pie" fantasy. It's a little bit of everything. Integrated. Open.

And Dean, like Mary, is finding himself. That's why his musical choices are so adventurous and his manner of dress so wildly different from Dean prime. :-) Yes, we got Zepp at the end, but it felt a bit farewell to the perfect ideal of what life "should" have been.

We've recentiy seen Dean angry and in denial, and this whole series was a bit of bargaining and introspection. So, what now? If we're moving linearly through a grief cycle, what's next for Dean is depression and acceptance. It's going to get worse before it gets better.

///

Where is Cas?

It didn't feel to me like Cas was in jeopardy.

It felt more like, in true Cas fashion, he's overworking himself and focusing on the new cause (extinguishing Chuck's fail-safes) and keeping moving. That seems very in-keeping with a lot I've written about how I personally view Cas as something of a tethered soldier. Tale as old as time (for Cas anyways)!

(Cas is busy. Cas is always busy.)

IN FACT, the fact that Cas was not grouped into the family-talk makes me think that The Winchesters might be not so clear-cut cancelled. You know?

///

Is The Winchesters over? How could it continue?

IF The Winchesters were to continue (it feels quite wrapped up at present), I suppose because this universe is vulnerable due to the portal rip, and you could take the approach that this weak membrane serves as entry point for all sorts of trouble in the multiverse.

All you have to do to up the stakes is put Jack out of commission, really, and the danger rockets right back up to critical, you know? There can always be more monsters, more evil to be had.

[kvibe-test]

Art Meets Business: Inside Mind Sketch Podcast

I have always believed that the intersection of art and business is where true innovation happens. This belief sparked the inception of the Mind Sketch Podcast. The idea struck me during conversations with fellow artists, each facing unique challenges yet sharing common threads—balancing the passion for their craft with the necessity of business acumen. The podcast is a window into these stories, capturing the essence of what it truly means to be an artist in today's world.

The Birth of a Concept

The concept of Mind Sketch came from a deep-seated frustration. I felt that many people simply didn’t understand the guts it takes to make it in the business. "Not only do you have to be an artist, but you also need to have a sense of business and know your worth," I often thought. Artists, whether they are musicians, magicians, abstract painters, writers, or filmmakers, all face similar hurdles. They are artists at heart but also businesspeople by necessity. Our goal is to capture this duality and present it to our audience in an engaging and educational format.

The idea was to bring the world of these artists closer to the public, to help people understand the reality behind the glamour. From the grind of recording sessions to the complexities of contract negotiations and the struggle of staying inspired amidst financial pressures, every episode of Mind Sketch aims to peel back the curtain. It’s about more than just creating art; it’s about the journey, the hustle, and the hard-earned experiences that shape an artist's path.

Uniting Art and Business Wisdom

What makes Mind Sketch unique is its dual focus. We don’t just talk about art in isolation. Our interviews delve into the business side of things—the nitty-gritty details that many artists rarely discuss publicly. I wanted to create a platform where artists could share their journeys candidly, blending their creative ventures with the wisdom they’ve gained in the business world.

We’ve had musicians talk about the intricacies of royalties and the impact of streaming services on their income.

Abstract painters recounting their strategies for selling art in a digital age.

Magicians revealing how they market and manage their shows in a highly competitive field.

Filmmakers discussing the balance between creative vision and financial backing.

These stories aren’t just inspirational; they are instructional. Artists who listen to the podcast can pick up practical advice and, perhaps, avoid some pitfalls that their predecessors faced. For the listeners who aren’t artists, it’s an eye-opener into the sheer resilience and ingenuity required to succeed in these fields.

Goals and Motivations

The primary motivation behind Mind Sketch is education through shared experiences. I want our listeners to learn from each guest’s journey. Education in this context isn’t just about learning a new skill or understanding a new concept; it’s about gaining insights into what it truly takes to sustain a career in the arts.

We seek to demystify the artist’s lifestyle, demonstrating that it’s not only about raw talent but also about perseverance, strategic thinking, and often, learning from failure. Guests on the podcast share their triumphs, but they also share their setbacks and how they overcame them. This authenticity is crucial because it shows that even the most successful artists faced hurdles and had to develop their business skills.

Moreover, one of our significant goals is to unite artists and business professionals. By showcasing these stories, we hope to foster collaborations that can lead to innovative projects. Artists will better understand the importance of business savvy, and business minds might gain an appreciation for the creative process. This cross-pollination is where I believe the future of thriving artistic careers lies.

While the podcast doesn’t delve deeply into individual stories of artists in this particular post, every episode of Mind Sketch aims to highlight a different facet of the artist's journey. By alternating between artistic triumphs and entrepreneurial insights, we present a holistic picture that is as inspiring as it is educational.

Lastly, I want to mention that the Mind Sketch Podcast is a labor of love. It requires a significant amount of effort, from setting up interviews and doing pre-production work to the actual recording and post-production. But every second is worth it when you hear back from listeners who feel motivated and equipped to tackle their challenges. This alone makes all the effort worthwhile.

So, if you’ve ever wondered about the complex dance between artistry and entrepreneurship, tune into Mind Sketch. Whether you’re an artist struggling to find your footing or a business enthusiast curious about the creative process, there’s something for everyone. Join us as we sketch out the minds behind the art, one episode at a time.

[newmusickarl]

Album & EP Recommendations

If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power by Halsey

Halsey’s evolution across her career has been quite something to witness. Having begun her career in pure pop territory, her artistry has developed over time with each new record seeing the American singer-songwriter up the ambition and scope of her music. Now with this her fourth album, Halsey has gone bigger than ever, teaming up with Nine Inch Nails members and Oscar-winning composers Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross for her boldest work to date.

Produced entirely by Reznor and Ross, Halsey describes this new record as “a concept album about the joys and horrors of pregnancy and childbirth.” Naturally with any concept record there is going to be a cinematic feel, however Halsey has gone one step further and even delivered a full theatrical film to accompany the album, the trailer for which you can watch above. Although I am yet to see the film, there is no doubt that the musical portion is a mightily ambitious and accomplished project, with each song seamlessly segueing into the next despite the array of styles and genres across each track.

It may still be a pop record at the heart, but with the masterful touch of Reznor and Ross, Halsey also brings in some industrial rock elements, as well as a bit of pop punk in places too. However, it is not just sonically that Halsey pushes the boundaries but also thematically as well, using the album’s concept to press the issue of feminism and misogyny within the lyrics. Arguably what’s most striking about this record though is how tightly constructed everything is here – under the watchful eye of Reznor and Ross, the dramatic production is inch-perfect.

Most importantly, the songs here are just fantastic, from the religious imagery and glistening synths that lace the wonderful melody of Bells of Santa Fe, to the raw, grungy guitars of You asked for this. There’s also the atmospheric piano ballad 1121, where Halsey really flexes her impressive vocal cords. Pulsating, stylish electro-pop single I am not a woman, I’m a god is another standout. Once you have been amazed by all of this, the gentle plucking and raindrop like xylophone of stunning closer Ya’aburnee arrives to really blow things away.

In a year packed full of outstanding pop records, Halsey has delivered, for my money, one of the best of the lot. With Reznor and Ross holding the reigns, they help Halsey deliver on her epic vision with both style and control. It’s one thing to attempt a record like this, it’s another thing to pull it off as expertly and vibrantly as this – hats off for this one!

Listen here

Screen Violence by CHVRCHES

Also delivering their fourth album this week was Scottish synth-pop group CHVRCHES who, whilst predominantly maintaining their vintage sound, have lyrically pushed themselves into darker territory on this new record. Probably their finest work since their debut, frontwoman Lauren Mayberry takes no prisoners as she tackles sexism and misogyny, calling upon her own experiences within the industry to really illustrate the issues being put front and centre.  

This is highlighted best on electric single Good Girls, a track Mayberry wrote “after listening to some friends arguing about the present-day implications of loving certain problematic male artists – I was struck by the lengths that people would go to in order to excuse their heroes and how that was so juxtaposed to my own experiences in the world.”

Other highlights include He Said She Said, a glistening synth-driven pop banger that’s contrasted against razor-sharp lyrics with a defiant message at its core – catchy, but also powerful and thought-provoking. There’s also the superb collaboration with The Cure legend Robert Smith, How Not to Drown, which is a moody, atmospheric, and synth-soaked belter of a track. Although it is incredible right the way through, the real spine-tingling moment comes during the song’s outro thanks to the ghostly vocals of Smith being cast over some hauntingly melodic guitars. Outside of the singles, the rawness of heartbreaking closer Better If You Don’t leaves the biggest impression.

All in all, this album ranks amongst their best work and although it may not be quite as dramatic or impressionable as Halsey’s album, there’s still plenty to which you’ll want to digest and ultimately keep returning.

Listen here

How Long Do You Think It’s Gonna Last? By Big Red Machine

The National’s Aaron Dessner and Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon have certainly kept themselves busy over lockdown. It seems they weren’t satisfied with just taking Taylor Swift’s music to incredible new heights on 2020’s folklore and evermore, as they have now also released their second album under their Big Red Machine guise. The most noticeable thing about this second record is that the duo have extended their collaboration further this time around, bringing in renowned artists such as Ben Howard, Sharon Van Etten, Lisa Hannigan and Fleet Foxes, as well as two more collaborations with Miss Swift herself.

Given the talent involved, it is no surprise that this makes for a really special and stunning collection of songs. There’s wonderful electro-folk track Mimi, which sees singer-songwriter Ilsey Juber join Justin Vernon on lead vocal duties. Phoenix sees Robin Pecknold of Fleet Foxes and Anaïs Mitchell join in for a wonderful, horn-backed number. This track in fact isn’t the only time Anaïs Mitchell steals the show, as her beautiful, soothing vocal performances on opener Latter Days and closer New Auburn arguably provide the two best moments of the entire album.

The two tracks with Taylor Swift are also fantastic, with Renegade offering a sweet, pop cut that wouldn’t be out of place on either of Swift’s last two records. The better of the two though is Birch, a piano-driven, string-tinged ballad which sees Swift simply providing back-up vocals to Vernon’s haunting folky croons. It’s stunning and possibly my new favourite collaboration between the three artists.

Ultimately this is just a superb album, with Dessner and Vernon thriving alongside their chosen collaborators for a collection of songs that will frequently both move and astound you.

Listen here

Donda by Kanye West

Easily the most talked about album of the week, after several launch events and many, many delays, Kanye West finally released his long-awaited tenth studio album, Donda. Now anyone who knows me knows that I am not a fan of excessive, bloated albums, so with Donda clocking in at almost 2 hours long it was always going to struggle to win me over.

As expected, this is another West project that struggles with inconsistency, with moments of brilliance balanced out with plenty of moments that ultimately underwhelm. Although it has more high points than Ye and the production is more polished than Jesus Is King, there is no track as good as Ghost Town and sonically I found it less inspired than Jesus Is King in many ways. I’m not sure just yet if this is indeed the worst West album, but it is certainly down there in the bottom half for me.

That said, there are still some great moments to be found here. Once you get passed the massively irritating Donda Chant opener (honestly, so painful!), the Jay-Z featuring Jail offers an anthemic rock-influenced gem to get the album started properly. From there The Weeknd featuring Hurricane, the Lauryn Hill sampling Believe What I Say, the heavenly melody of Kid Cudi feature Moon and the organ-backed closer No Child Left Behind provide some of the other highlights. However possibly the finest moment comes in the form of Jesus Lord, a 9-minute epic that sees West deliver some of his best bars in years, returning to the social-consciousness that made him a star in the first place.

If you are a fan of West’s recent gospel-influenced work, then this album will reward you for your patience if you stick with it. For me, although there are some moments I enjoyed, the length was just too much, with this album having the same inconsistency problem that The Life of Pablo had but without reaching the same heights as that album did when it was at its best. Disappointing, but still somewhat worthwhile.

Listen here

The Awesome Album by Mouse Rat

And finally on the albums front, if like me you are a big Parks & Recreation fan, you’ll be pleased to hear that Chris Pratt’s fictional band from the show, Mouse Rat, have finally released their debut album this week. Featuring classics such as 5,000 Candle In The Wind and The Pit, this one is a lot of fun for fans of the show.

Listen here

Tracks of the Week

Good Ones by Charli XCX

Coming off the back of the definitive lockdown album How I’m Feeling Now that earned her both a Mercury Prize nomination and a place in my Top 5 albums of 2020, Charli XCX has returned with a new synth-driven banger that packs in an insanely catchy hook and wonderful 80s vibes.

Listen here

Family Ties by Baby Keem & Kendrick Lamar

Also making his return this week was King Kendrick who delivered a fantastic new collaboration with his cousin Baby Keem. Over a brilliant horn-driven beat, the two family members go toe-to-toe and bar-to-bar across this concise hip-hop banger.

Listen here

Alone by Rag N Bone Man & Nothing But Thieves

A remix of a track from Rory Graham’s latest album Life By Misadventure, this version sees Conor Mason of Nothing But Thieves join in on vocals, along with some triumphant rock production that replaces the stripped back nature of the album cut.

Listen here

Spirit Power & Soul by Johnny Marr

The brilliant first track from his forthcoming new EP, Spirit Power & Soul finds legendary guitarist Johnny Marr in fine form, sonically calling back to his days with Bernard Sumner in Electronic. Built on a masterful central riff, pulsating synths and a big anthemic chorus, it’s a belter!

Listen here

Nothing Else Matters by Chris Stapleton

And finally this week, we’ve had plenty of great, unique covers of Nothing Else Matters by Metallica already this year, with Miley Cyrus and Phoebe Bridgers already offering their own take on the classic song. However, I’ve always got time for another and this 8-minute epic from country singer Chris Stapleton is just as dazzling, thanks to some amazing bluesy guitars and his textured vocal performance.

Listen here

[reflectionsofneptune]

little reasons why you could be attracting particular signs

Some reasons why you could be attracting these signs, or signs on these particular house cusps. I had lots of fun w/ this post so take it w/ a pinch of salt. My lil thoughts as usual. Big kiss. 

Aries / sign on your 1st House Cusp

You’re frustrated. Or maybe you’ve suddenly been onset with a surge of energy for a particular project or subject that’s close to your heart. Feeling risky? Or, are you feeling lost? Is there something you want to dive all in to? Are you becoming more confident in yourself? Giving yourself pep talks in the mirror? Daily reminders popping up on the phone? Aries energy is all about putting energy in the world (Cardinal) based on one’s aspirations (Fire). The universe could be asking you to stop being all talk and dreaming of things (Pisces) to the point where all they remain wistful fantasies and take action. (Aries/1st house) Steps forward, no matter how small, no matter how big, count.

Taurus / sign on your 2nd House cusp

You’re hungry. Hahahaha I’m laughing while I double check my fridge knowing there’s nothing there :) :) What are your boundaries looking like? Have you got a firm idea of what you will and won’t stand for? Do you have something in your life you’re nurturing? Do you need to pay more attention to your coins? Working on self-love? Taurus energy is all about consolidating (Fixed) material things and a solid value system (Earth) to help circulate a feeling of stability in their life. The universe could be asking you to to take that vision you have (Aries) and line up all the things you have accessible to you, right this very minute, that can make that happen. (Taurus/2nd house) Appreciate what you have, and watch how many new things pour in.

Gemini / sign on your 3rd House cusp

You’ve been gossiping. So that person you bitched about heard what you said…..and this Gemini in your life…..is here to get the receipts…..i’m sorry, I don’t make the rules. SIKE. What are you paying attention to nowadays? Ideas? Other people’s opinions? Are you learning something new? Maybe you need to not be so attached to ideas, thoughts and concepts coming from other people. Make your own mind up. Do you have interesting ideas you can share with people, but you’re keeping it under wraps? No fair. Gemini energy is all about sharing (Mutable) their opinions (air) with other people. The universe could be asking you to express your unique talents (Taurus) with the world through a platform of some sort. (Gemini/ 3rd house) It’s OK to speak up about your ideas. I bet they’re awesome. 

Cancer / sign on your 4th house cusp

You’ve been crying. Nah I’m playing. (but if you have, that’s OK too). Maybe you’ve been working on your inner child. Have you been taking some time to re-parent yourself with good food, good company and that one film you loved as a kid? Are you healing trauma from your childhood? Maybe healing needs to be done on the female relationships in your life. Maybe you need to be honest about the things in you life you emotionally react to in situations that doesn’t warrant this kind of behaviour. Cancer energy is all about actively (Cardinal) nurturing themselves and others (Water) through comforting actions.The universe could be asking you to look at your thoughts (Gemini/3rd house) and seeing what a direct impact that has on your emotions. What we think has a correlation to the feelings we feel.

Leo / sign on your 5th house cusp

You’re doing too much. There’s probably an area of your life, where you’re shining. It’s possibly your living from the heart now. You’re putting yourself out there. Or, maybe you need to take the time to have some fun? Are you ignoring those recurring impulses to do something creative which will feed your spirit? Leo energy is all about being self-willed (Fixed) in their ability to showcase their creative self-expression (Fire) to others. Leo’s know that they are the shit, you can’t tell ‘em nothin’. The universe could be asking you to find a special way to channel your emotions (Cancer/4th house) into an artistic expression somehow. Creativity is so subjective - beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder at the end of the day. You’re doing amazing, sweetie. *KJ voice* hehehehe.

Virgo / sign on your 6th house cusp

You need to clean up an area of your life. Virgo energy is all about being adaptable (Mutable) with one’s ideas as well as routines and habits in one’s daily life (Earth). Are you becoming more organised? Paying more attention to what you’re ingesting in all forms, staring from the food you’re eating to the people you’re surrounding yourself with? Or maybe you need to Marie Kondo something, bad. Bring order into a chaotic structure in your life. Maybe, those self-defeating thoughts that do no good for your well-being need a stern talking to. A balance needs to be struck between the mental side and the physical side. The universe could be asking you to better shape that creative talent you have (Leo/5th house) and refine it. Not to a level of perfection which is often unattainable, but a little tweak here and never hurt anybody.

Libra / sign on your 7th house cusp

You’re out of balance. Libra is all about a dedicated intention (Cardinal) of obtaining harmony and a sense of fairness in relationships (Air) of all kinds, be it platonic, romantic, professional. Maybe you’ve been giving extra care to your relationships and are showing up for those people that have had your back. Are you missing out on the beauty in life? Vacillating between two things? Or maybe you’ve taken a good look at the people around you, and people who don’t match your energy have got the chop. Can you see two sides to one situation? The universe could be asking you to take a look at how the lens - be it critical, analytical, thoughtful or helpful - (Virgo/6th house) in which you view people hinders or strengths your partnerships.The great thing about life is people are often mirrors, what you dislike in someone else, may actually be present within you on a deeper level. 

Scorpio / sign on your 8th house cusp

You’re sexually frustrated. Are you going through a pivotal change in your life? Or are you tapping into your sexual power? Sexual liberating yourself from things that held you down? Maybe discernment has been strengthened lately and you’re not taking much at face level anymore. Playing detective? Or, are you struggling to open up to others? To be vulnerable. Do you need to let go of something? Scorpio energy is all about a strong willpower and determination in life (Fixed) that comes from a total transformation and understanding of one’s unconscious wants and desires. (Water) The universe could be asking you to look at the ways your unconscious childhood emotional patterns affect your relationships. (Libra/7th house) Life gets better when you don’t hold back and open yourself to experiencing things, fully. Promise.

Sagittarius / sign on your 9th house cusp

You’re been acting reckless. Have you been seeing life from a more expansive point of view? Maybe you’re taking risks in life and they’re paying off in ways you didn’t dream possible. Look at you. Are you wanting to just drop all responsibilities and F off to somewhere completely different? The idea of throwing yourself into the deep end of this thing called life look appealing? I feel you. Or maybe, you’ve being a bit more blunt, honest in life and saying things for how they are. Do you need to lighten up in an area of you life? Maybe, there’s an area of life that needs to you to rely on your higher mind and follow your heart. Sagittarius energy is all about widening their beliefs (Fire) in a curious fashion as they explore life. (Mutable) The universe could be asking you to dive deeper into your shadow side (Scorpio/8th) to aid you in personal growth. 

Capricorn / sign on your 10th house cusp

You’re too preoccupied with your career. Recently, you could have been thinking about what you want to do in life. Getting more serious on your life purpose kind of thing. Perhaps the steps you need to take are becoming more clear. You’re becoming more clear on your position in society. Or, you feel a fear about stepping into your power. You may be questioning whether or not you have what it takes. Possible responsibilities looking more like burdens than opportunities for growth. Capricorn energy is all about disciplined efforts in steps in their world (Cardinal) to secure one’s material security. (Earth) The universe could be nudging you to actually cement your dreams (Sagittarius/ 9th house) house into something practical. Let’s get the bag. I mean, let’s graft for the life that we really want. 

Aquarius / sign on your 11th cusp

You’re being rebellious. Have you been researching a broader range of topics related to human consciousness?  Perhaps you’re investing effort in your friendships. It could be that now the way you react to things, or you’re actively trying to see people, places and things from a more objective standpoint. Or you need to incorporate that viewpoint in your life. Is there an area of life where you just need to be brave and be rebellious? Aquarian energy is all about establishing (Fixed) an inventive and progressive way in which one can use in relating to others in society. (air) The universe could be asking you to further mould what you produce in the real world (Capricorn/10th house) to ensure that it has positive benefits for society.

Pisces / sign on your 12th house cusp

You’re tapping out. Or, you’re not but you are giving yourself precious time to do some productive visualisation. Maybe you’ve been researching spiritual topics such as LOA and manifestation. Do you need to forgive yourself, or someone else? Maybe compassion is how you’re living your life nowadays and it feels amazing. Realising that we’re all connected in one way, shape or form? Pisces energy is all about being the ability to co-exist (Mutable) with whatever life throws at them by relying on their intuition (Water) and connection to a higher power to get them though. The universe could be asking you to look at how you can give back (Aquarius/11th house) or, alternatively, make a deeper connection with yourself. The good, bad and the ugly. Does your ego need a check?

[themattress]

My Top 30 Favorite Video Games

Inspired by @ultraericthered’s Top 30 Favorite Anime post. 

Although I’m doing mine in countdown form, ‘cause it’s more fun that way!

30. Super Mario Bros. - Arguably the first “blockbuster” game to be released, not only does Super Mario Bros. still hold up over 35 years later but it’s a gift that keeps on giving with how many different incarnations, remixes, fan games using its assets, etc. that we have now.

29. Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney - OBJECTION! While I cherish the entire original Phoenix Wright trilogy of the Ace Attorney franchise, I’ll always be the most partial to the original outing. The sheer audacity and hilarity of the concept, which is grounded by endearing characters and compelling mysteries, shines brilliantly in this little, easily accessible game. 

28. Trigger Happy Havoc: Danganronpa - While similar in many ways to Ace Attorney, Danganronpa boasts a variety of more actual gameplay than mere point-and-click text scrolling. But what really makes this stand out, beyond gameplay or even the strength of its concept, story and characters, is the atmosphere it creates. For good and for ill, traversing the pristine, neon-lit hallways of the abandoned Hopes Peak Academy looking for clues as I’m forced to play by Monokuma’s twisted rules is an experience that will stay with me forever.

27. Star Fox 64 - Beyond all the entertainment this game provides through memes, it’s really just a fun, reasonably simple but just moderately complicated enough game that’s accessible to any player even if they usually don’t go for aerial shooters. It’s also one of the earliest console games that I ever played, so of course it’s going to hold a special place in my heart.

26. Batman: Arkham City - It’s an impressive feat when an open world game can still feel so claustrophobic in all the right ways, and that’s what Arkham City accomplishes. This game is essentially The Dark Knight to Arkham Asylum’s Batman Begins, escalating the action, suspense and sheer Batman-ness, providing unlimited opportunities to enjoy yourself playing as Gotham’s defender and facing down the greatest Rogues Gallery in comic book history.

25. Red Dead Redemption - Look, I know that Red Dead Redemption 2 is technically the superior game. But its complicated story, sprawling cast of characters, and vast canvas of a world can be pretty daunting, whereas I feel like the original Red Dead Redemption struck a much better balance. Allowing open world freedom within the confines of the straight-forward story of John Marston’s redemption really makes you feel like you’re in an old Western film, and the way that choices you make as a player impact the way that film ultimately turns out is one of the strongest arguments for video games being worthy of consideration as true art.

24. The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim - So, ten years ago an open world adventure video game series releases its fifth entry...and to this day, we’ve had no sixth, in favor of expansions and updated re-releases of said fifth entry. But that’s not a sign of laziness; it’s a sign the developers know they hit such a peak in quality that they have no need to rush anything further out the gate, as Skyrim is a gift that keeps on giving. Addictive in how unlimited in possibilities it is, with each playthrough never being the same as the one before, Skyrim is a gaming masterpiece that I don’t think I’m going to get bored with playing anytime soon.

23. Super Paper Mario - This may be an unpopular opinion, but I vastly prefer this game’s action-platform-RPG hybrid gameplay style to the prior installments’ traditional turn-based RPG style, which feels more at home in stuff like Super Mario RPG and the Mario & Luigi series. But gameplay aside, I think this has the strongest story of any Mario game, trading in the usual “save the kingdom/princess” fare for saving all of reality, with legitimate emotion and drama and even character development. It’s one of the Wii’s shining gems, to be sure.

22. Epic Mickey - This game’s graphics are by and large unremarkable, its gameplay is fraught with issues (that camera is unforgivable), and it’s nowhere close to the best on its system or genre. But Epic Mickey is a case study in where the effort put into crafting the game’s world and story, not to mention the obvious love and respect for the material being worked with, pays off. Any Disney fan will love this game for its story, which puts Mickey front and center as an actual character rather than a mascot and dives deep into his history as he meets his “half-brother” Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, and its mystical, unique atmosphere - what the graphics can’t deliver, the fucking music more than makes up for. All of the game’s flaws mean nothing compared to the sheer heart on display, and I treasure it greatly as a result.

21. Batman: Arkham Asylum - I already mentioned that Arkham City is the superior game, but as was the case with Red Dead Redemption and its sequel, personal preference strikes again. The simpler story and narrower confines of Arkham Asylum just appeal to me slightly more, and I feel like the borderline horror atmosphere this game has could never fully be replicated by all of its sequels and spin-offs. Also, you can play as the Joker in this. WIN.

20. Metal Gear Solid - And on the subject of Arkham Asylum, it owes much to this game, which created the template of a lone badass hero having to use stealth and weaponry to liberate a government-owned island from the lunatic terrorists that have taken over. Hideo Kojima famously never wanted this game to have any sequels, and I can definitely see his point, as it’s a complete and wholly satisfying experience in of itself and I don’t feel like it’s ever been topped. At the very least, it’s certainly the most enjoyable of the series to me.

19. The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask - Also, speaking of “borderline horror atmosphere”, we have the freakiest game that the Legend of Zelda series ever put out. What was supposed to just be a gaiden to Ocarina of Time mutated into this beautiful monstrosity that’s become just as iconic. Nobody who plays this game is ever going to forget that fucking moon and all the constant jumping back and forth in time across three days as you try to prevent the apocalypse of Termina. It’s the kind of gaming trauma that’s well worth experiencing.

18. Kingdom Hearts: Chain of Memories - Like Majora’s Mask, this game is a case study where you can take a bunch of recycled assets and gameplay, and then make something unique from it if you have a well-crafted story with a dark and disturbing atmosphere. It’s hard to experience or appreciate the transition between Kingdom Hearts and Kingdom Hearts II without playing this midquel, which takes the narrative and characters to deeper levels without being pretentious about it and sets the stage for the proper console sequel perfectly. And if you can’t get into it being on Gameboy Advance, then just play the PS2 remake (which is arguably the superior version anyway) and you’re good! Just...don’t mind the cards, OK?

17. Sonic CD - And now we have another game about jumping back and forth through time to prevent an apocalypse! See the common threads at play here by this point? Sonic the Hedgehog is at his best in 2D gameplay, and I personally enjoy this the best out of all the 2D games in the series. As obscure as the Sega CD was as a system, it was powerful enough to take the blue blur’s speed to its maximum level, set alongside beautiful graphics and a kick-ass soundtrack (well, two different kick-ass soundtracks; and I actually prefer the US one). 

16. Pokemon Black & White - While there were advancements made to story and graphics and gameplay features in the third and fourth generations of the Pokemon series, nothing felt as truly ground-breaking as the second generation games until the fifth gen with its Black & White games. This was arguably the game series’ peak in quality on all fronts, but its specifically the story that lands it on this list, as its well-written and paced, subverts many formulaic elements from the previous games, is set in one of the most unique regions in the Pokemon world, and has a timeless message that has only grown more relevant with age. 

15. Super Smash Bros. Ultimate - The whole series could really go here, but fortunately the most recent entry is the perfect embodiment of said series, with every playable character there’s ever been and then some. The sheer variety is unmatched by any other fighting game out there, and its story mode, “World of Light”, is quite possibly the greatest video game crossover in history given how many characters are featured as both fighters and spirits.

14. Super Mario 64 - I’m pretty sure this game used to be higher in my favor, but replaying it on the Nintendo Switch recently has made me aware of how, as the first game on the Nintendo 64 and the first 3D platformer, it’s poorly aged in several areas. However, I must stress that it is still a very good game. The fun of going to the various worlds within paintings in Peach’s Castle hasn’t changed, nor has how smoothly and seamlessly Mario managed to make the jump from 2D to 3D. Just like Super Mario Bros., the number of games that owe something to this one is too great to count, and that’s an achievement that remains timeless.

13. Dark Chronicle - Also known as Dark Cloud 2. I hadn’t heard a damn thing about this game before renting it on a whim many years ago, and I was caught off guard by just how good it was. It’s got a simple but effective story and likable characters, a timeless atmosphere, beautifully cel-shaded graphics, dungeon-crawling gameplay, action-RPG combat gameplay, literal world-building gameplay, and even a fishing minigame! This game can actually stand besides the Zelda series without shame; it’s truly an underrated gem.

12. The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess - Oh, speaking of Zelda, this game goes full Lord of the Rings-style epic fantasy with it and it is glorious. Between the near perfect gameplay, beautiful 3D graphics, and one of the best stories in the series (with one of the best characters: Midna), Twilight Princess’ most prevalent complaint from critics all the way up to its own developers is that it wasn’t even MORE expansive and awesome given how long it was hyped, and if that’s the biggest issue with the game then I’d say it’s in pretty good shape.

11. Super Mario Galaxy - Super Mario 64 may be held back a little by how its aged, but no such thing is holding back Super Mario Galaxy. Super Mario Odyssey might be as good or possibly even better, but I just don’t hold the same feelings of amazement and respect toward it that I do for this game. From the blitzkrieg-style attack on the Mushroom Kingdom by Bowser to the discovery of Rosalina’s space station, this game had me hooked from the first few minutes, especially with it blaring that awesome orchestral score the whole way through. To this day, I maintain that this is Mario’s greatest 3D adventure. It’s simply magnificent.

10. Final Fantasy X - Ha! See what I did there? This game has caught flak for some of the awkwardness that comes from being the first fully 3D entry in the series, but I think that’s tantamount to nitpicking when compared to all it does right. To me, this was the last really good installment of the main Final Fantasy series, with a story and world so brilliantly developed that the game earned the immediate breakthrough success and acclaim that it found in its native Japan. 20 years later and, as the HD remaster has shown, it still holds up as one of the most engaging JRPG experiences I’ve ever had the pleasure of having.

9. Banjo-Kazooie - At the time, this was basically Rare’s copycat version of Super Mario 64, although considered about as good. Now, however, there’s a difference: the aging issues I mentioned for Super Mario 64 don’t apply for Banjo-Kazooie. Whether replaying it on the Nintendo 64 or on whichever Xbox you’ve got, this game is still just as fun, imaginative and hilarious now as it was back then. It’s quite possibly the greatest 3D platformer ever made.

8. Pokemon Crystal - The definitive edition of the Gold & Silver games of Pokemon’s second generation, taking what was already a phenomenal advancement and improvement to the first generation and making it even better with additional features such as the ability to play as a girl for the first time and a more clearly defined storyline centered around the legendary Pokemon featured on the game’s box art. Pokemon had been written off as just a passing fad up until this point. This was when its staying power as a video game juggernaut was proven.

7. The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild - Talk about a win right out of the gate for the Nintendo Switch! This game returns the Legend of Zelda series to its roots while also applying all that has been made possible in video games since the original game’s release, and the result is an enthralling, addictive, open world masterpiece that has set a new standard of quality for both the Zelda series and for many modern video games in general.

6. Kingdom Hearts II - The Final Mix edition to be precise, although in this day and age that’s basically the only edition people are playing anyway. This game is the apotheosis of Kingdom Hearts as both a video game series and as a concept; filled to the brim with Disney magic and Square Enix RPG expertise and paired with some of the most refined action-based gameplay there is. And when it comes to bringing the original Kingdom Hearts trilogy’s story to a close, does this game ever stick the landing. The series could have ended right here and I would have been completely satisfied (and its reputation would be a lot better off, too!)

5. Pokemon Yellow - While I maintain that this game, the definitive edition of the original first generation Pokemon games, still holds up as fun to play even now, I’ll admit that it’s pure bias that it ranks so high. It was the first proper video game I ever played, there was no way I was leaving it off the top 5! Its blissful nostalgic atmosphere is always such a delight to return to.

4. Banjo-Tooie - Remember when I said Banjo-Kazooie was “quite possibly the greatest 3D platformer ever made”? The “quite possibly” is because its in stiff competition with its own sequel! And personally, I’m in Banjo-Tooie’s corner; something about how inter-connected its worlds are and the addition of so many things to do all while maintaining your full moveset from the original game is just beautiful to me. Both it and its predecessor are like obstacle courses that I never tire of running through, which is the hallmark of brilliant game design.

3. Kingdom Hearts - Another case where the sequel may be the superior game, but my own personal preference leans toward the original. And in this case, it’s a highly personal preference: this game and my memories of playing it for the first time are so very dear to me. The characters and worlds of Disney put into an epic crossover RPG was like a dream come true for me and no matter how far the series it spawned has deteriorated, nothing can detract from the magic of this game. It’s got a certain, indescribable feel and atmosphere that’s never truly been replicated, and that feel and atmosphere still holds up whenever I revisit it. The gameplay may not be the best, particularly when compared to Kingdom Hearts II’s, but the charm of the story and the characters and the world and the very concept more than makes up for that. As far as I’m concerned, it’s one of Disney and Square’s greatest masterpieces.

2. Final Fantasy VII - I was aware of the hype this game got and was totally ready to call it overrated, but damn it, it got me! I don’t know what it is about this game with its blocky early 3D graphics, poor sound quality to its excellent soundtrack, and frequently mistranslated script that proved to be so gripping and enjoyable to play through, but man did it ever Limit Break its way into my heart. This is considered a JRPG classic for a damn good reason.

1. The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time - Do I really need to explain this one? It’s famous for being frequently cited as one of the greatest video games ever made, and like Final Fantasy VII, its hype is well-deserved and totally justified. Whether you’re playing it on the Nintendo 64, the Gamecube, the Wii, the 3DS, and hopefully the Nintendo Switch in the future, there is a magic quality to this game that permeates through every step you take in its fully 3D world. It’s a triumph that has stood the test of time, cementing the Zelda series as truly legendary.

[ravenwritesstuff]

Wandering Hearts (32/?)

Fandom: Frozen AU. Set after shipwreck but before coronation day. 17th Century. Pairing: Kristanna (Kristoff/Anna) Rating: M (Very M)

It is dark when she opens her eyes. 

Or did she open her eyes?

She cannot be certain. 

Everything is swimming, everything still hurts, and there is a deja vu to this moment. She is sure she had lived it before. This aching limb, rotting core feeling that eats at her and tries to swallow her.

She chokes on air to try to convince herself she is being foolish. That the rock monsters, moss and crystal, that disfigured woman aren’t real. That Bjarg - 

No. That all had to be fiction. Her mind had invented it. She has always had an extraordinary imagination. It had kept her safe in the palace. It would keep her safe now.

But then why is the world black now when she opens her eyes? Even in the blackest nights in Bjarg’s cabin there had been the faint glow of embers, the hot springs cave there had been the lamp. The palace had always made sure that no night or day was entirely dark. There has never been a time where the world has been this black. There had always been some light by candles, lantern, hearth, fire, sky, or the inexplicable. There had never been a time where light had not kept her in some sort of company but now… 

The world is a void.

Is she alone? There is no confirmation. She cannot know for certain when her eyes betray her to darkness.

She struggles to sit up with a gasping breath. Nothing makes sense. She feels the same as she had before, all the pains and aches, but now sightless as well. If one of those giants - those trolls -  were close then she would have no idea. What if some other wild thing was just waiting for her to stir to see if she was awake and edible? What if she is made to face any of the challenges she has met thus far but without the aid of sight?

At first the idea tightens her chest and steals her oxygen. She could be crushed or beaten or assaulted or worse. Even so she streadies herself. She settles her breathing and stays still. She cannot trust herself just yet, knows what happens when she succumbs to impulse and panic.

The world all feels too strange. Something is out of balance. Something is not right. She squeezes her sightless eyes shut and tries to get her mind to focus.

Surely this is a dream.

There is no other explanation.

But then why does she ache? Why is she so certain she cannot see? Dreaming women do not need sight so why is she asking for it? Why does she demand this right? 

Because she simply knows. For years she had second guessed herself, her instincts, her senses. No more. She is not of the dreaming. She is of the waking, the living, and that does not make things more easy. It would be simpler to pretend, to lay back and give up, but she is beyond that now.

So she blinks, again, again, and again.

Again, faster, again, more quickly, again… 

She blinks until the muscles in her eyelids twitch, flutter and give out.

They have nothing else to give. It is not their fault. They have done all they can, but still the hot tears well. She squeezes them back. There is no time for self pity. She must form a plan, must forge forward despite everything. If she knows anything it is the sitting, waiting, has never done a single thing for her wellbeing.

She focuses past her deficit and attempts to answer other questions.

Where is she?

She reaches out her arms and only finds fistfulls of what she assumes is damp moss. The weight of the air around her says she is in a mystical place of fog and damp green growth, but what if those senses are lying to her too? What if she has finally lost herself to her own mind? What if she had been asleep this entire time and the more diligently she attempts to awaken herself the closer she is to dismissing each instant to vapor?

She inhales a shaky breath.

What has she seen and what has she imagined? What is true? Would she even recognize the truth if it came to her now?

Everything hurts.

Everything tingles.

Her mind is muddled, but she resolves to not let it confuse her. She never knew how much she relied on sight until it was taken from her in a black and merciless blur, but that will define her. There are things she would surely know if only she could see. There were ways she could aid her escape and she knows exactly where she would run if she knew the way.

But just then she is struck with a sharp remembrance. Something that is just now pulling to the surface and wiping everything else away.

If she were able to run she would run until she found Bjarg’s home.

But it is not as simple as that. If she is not dreaming, if what she had seen before held true, then Bjarg had laid so still beneath her bleeding palm as she wept. Bjarg had died. 

A strangled breath escapes her throat at the idea.

She is ready now to doubt herself, to second guess any notion that she is capable of protecting him from herself. She cannot ignore the concept that he is gone, that she has failed him, that she really has nowhere to run.

A second sound comes from her now, a kind of keening wheeze as if her body had no space for her breath. She staggers to her feet. It does not matter where she goes, but she cannot stay here. It does not matter what she can and cannot see. She may have nowhere to run, but she will not sit in this place where he died. 

She stumbles forward a few paces when she hears a shift. 

At first she thinks perhaps she imagined it, created it herself in her steps, and she freezes. It is that same deep grumble the trolls made. The one that shook her and she fights between the need to lay down - play dead or simultaneously to scramble and fight. Before her instinct can make a decision she feels a heavy weight on her shoulder. 

She jerks, scrambling backwards until her back hits a stony wall. Her mind pulls instantly to the giants, the trolls. She lurches forward but between her skirts, blindness, and unfamiliar terrain she falls within instants. Her body braces for impact with the mossy ground but it does not come.

Instead she is caught in two arms. They are strong. They sink with her weight and momentum before they bring her up to stand and hold her tight against a firm wall of heat and strength. Her heart throbs in her chest as she wrestles to remove herself from this strange grip, but no matter how she fights they do not release her. Her arms flail, legs kicking, but nothing lands. She is held too closely, too firmly, for it to be much good. 

Still she struggles and thrashes as much as her aching, injured body will allow until:

“Easy now,” the voice is raspier, lower than it should be, but still she knows it. “Easy, min lille ven.” 

And her entire body goes rigid for one instant before every muscle collapses, legs failing. He falls with her to the supple ground as her hands scour him as if they were her eyes. She finds the soft leather of his kofte, the matted mess of hair, the bristled jaw, the oversized nose - 

“Bjarg,” she gasps, fingers looking for lies. “It cannot - you - you’re dead!”

It feels ridiculous to say as she touches him, is held tightly against the firm line of his body, but she knows what she saw. Or at least she thinks she did. A strange sort of dizziness besets her and her hands grip the thick of his shoulders for balance. 

“Breathe min navnløse. Breathe.” 

He pulls her onto his lap and cradles her against his frame. A large hand cups the side of her head against his heart. It is beating strong and deliberately. That sound, the incessant tattoo of life thrumming against her ear, causes her to suck in a stuttered breath. She realizes then what he meant when he had told her to breathe. Her starved lungs ease at her deep inhalation. The spinning of her mind slows as she absorbs his heat, his smell, the unshakeable certainty of his hold through each inhalation.

“You were dead,” her voice is muffled against his chest. “I saw you. You were dead. You were dead and that - that thing - “ 

She feels him stiffen. She draws back and even though she cannot see she looks up to where she knows he watches her. There is a long pause and she can hear the change in his breathing. It sounds like he has just run a mile. His arms leave her only to have rough hands cup her face. 

“What was shown to you?” There is wreckage in his voice she hasn’t heard before and it sends a shock down her spine. 

She is not entirely sure how to respond.

She has seen so much she couldn’t explain, but still she tries: “Monsters,” her voice is thin and high. “Monsters made of rocks and moss and they spoke and they took me - oh - they took me to - someone - and we went to find you and…”

Her jaw works, but there are no words left.

She has no idea how to continue. 

She has no idea what it means to tell the truth, to speak the suspicions of her heart. All she can think is that he is here, he is alive, he is holding her. She wants to sink into it, but this place is so strange. She does not trust it. She does not trust that this is the Bjarg she has grown to know and follow. How could she?

She stiffens.

Her body pulls away from the hands that cup her face.

She does not stand, but she backs away. She holds her arms out in front of her as if to warn a potential assailant. Her muddied mind has learned better than to just simply trust. Trust had rarely done her a favor. She cannot simply trust this voice, that he is what he says - means what he says.

“What do you know?” His voice is lower than she remembers, raspy, but still she can hear him. The tone of his voice reminds her of that time in the snowy wood just before he had collapsed. There is something so deep and desperate there, but she will not fall into something for the weak minded. 

She clenches her fists: “Nothing. I have been fed only scraps.”

And even in her blindness, her supposed disadvantage, she feels the power of her statement. She feels the depth and width of her accusation. She feels how she leans on walls she cannot see for numerous ways. She feels the courage of someone who has nothing left rise within her as she scurries back a few more inches from the intoxicating heat of whom she hopes is Bjarg. 

And oh does she want to believe that, but she knew what she saw. She knew she had seen him dead and she knows you do not simply return from that. That knowledge gives her the sense of power despite her disabilities. She struggles up to stand.

“This is not my home, my people.” She says as she juggles her jumbled skirts. “This place and its inhabitants are yours. Why should I be the one to explain it?” 

She can practically hear his breath through the mist. She does not know if he stood when she had but she pulls herself up taller regardless. Her hands clench fists at her sides. She has been tricked before, taken advantage of, and she will not allow it now. 

She will no longer stand for the truth to be kept from her reach. 

Life, she realizes, is not waiting for her. Maybe she will stop waiting for it. 

She senses his nearness before she feels him. Her body tenses, neck arching back and hands raising as he cups her elbows. She hears the low, grunting exhale as his fingers tighten to keep her close. Her nostrils flood with a mix of salt and rock and earth as she considers struggling. She will run even if she has no chance of escaping. 

“Logi,” this supposed Bjarg fights against her struggles until he is holding her wrists tight in front of her. Still she pulls as much as she can, fighting herself as much as his hold. When she does not still in his grip instead of bringing her in closer he releases her as suddenly as he held her. She staggers a bit but comes to nothing. The shock of her freedom nails her in place. 

Questions lodge in her throat and she is about to run. 

“What was taken from you?” The question is unexpected, but offered as one might offer an olive branch. 

“I do not know what you mean.” Her response is reflexive, caught off guard by this abrupt change of currency between them. 

“If you were there - if you were part of - well…” he struggles and then stops for several long moments.

Then:

“Logi,” his voice comes from her side and she whirls towards it, arms coming up only to be caught by his again and he gives a low hum as he draws her close to him once more. She stays stiff even as his hold softens all the more until his arms barely touch her, his hand barely touches the side of her head to bring it to his chest. 

His lips graze her hair, beard catching strands, and her body heats and chills at the same time. His head drops low as his voice, the intensity is there even as he holds her like she may break.

 “They took your sight,” he says and she tries to not react, but she knows he feels her waver in the comfort of what she hopes against hope are his arms.

He does not ask. She is not certain how he knew, but she could not deny it. Every step, every motion she did or did not take betrayed her detriment. She eases back from his hold, but does not run. She makes a guess at where his face may be and she is met with a disheartened chuckle.

He takes one of her hands but does not draw her to him. Instead he wraps it in his own calloused grip and tugs. She resists, aching body sore as she leans back, and she can almost feel his hurt at her forbearance. 

Then the tension changes. Instead of pulling, he gives way while still holding her hand. She feels the heat of him again, the unchangeable scent of leather and musk, and even though her mind want to doubt her heart does not. His free hand rakes into the tangled mess of her hand at her ear, thumb stroking her temple. 

“It is me, min lille ven,” he says. “Surely even without your eyes you know me.” 

And she did. 

She had surveyed the landscape of him and found it to be definite, but so much had happened, so many rules had been broken, there were trolls. Her spine goes stiff. She knows him, which is why she knows he is dead. But what if he isn’t? 

 She is as much full of hope as she is dread. This place is so unknown and now she is as helpless as she has ever been. For once she weighs her options instead of acting on impulse and she finds herself agreeing with a nod. 

“I know Bjarg will lead me as I need,” she attempts to keep it distant, but she hears the blatant hope in each syllable.

He is her last hope. She is struck by how long this has been his right without her acknowledging it. She is confronted with just how much she does trust him in this savage place where the very rules of her reality are bent. If it is some trap it will be no worse than what she has already endured. 

She squeezes the hand he holds and she cannot be certain but she thinks she feels his grin.

“Come,” his voice enlivens. “There is much we must make right.”

[ previous ]

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Breaking the Curse

Chapter 35: Two Old Friends

"Rumpelstiltskin…what took you so long?"

He felt his stomach drop as he pulled his hand back and stared into the eyes of his former associate, seeing a recognition there he hadn't seen in decades. It had been years since he'd heard his own name spoken out loud. But now it was as if everyone was saying it. First, Regina, now Jefferson. It struck him like a hand across his face.

"You have your memories…"

"Yeah, it's a curse. Literally," he huffed.

Jefferson crossed his arms over his chest almost casually, meanwhile he still felt as though he couldn't breath. Jefferson knew! He had his memories! Why hadn't he known Jefferson would know? Why hadn't ever found it odd that he was the only one who had a name that was unchanged, aside from David of course. He was an idiot. He should have realize the second he saw the town records that Jefferson-

"What do you want?" he spat out quietly, before looking around as if to see if anyone else saw he was there.

His shock faded as he pondered that question for a moment, bringing himself back into the present moment. What did he want from Jefferson? Nothing he wanted to discuss out in the open, no matter how secluded his mansion was.

"May I…?" he motioned to the rest of the home, quietly requesting entrance.

Jefferson hesitated. It covered up the hesitation in his own mind. He hadn't been planning on finding a Jefferson with memories intact. That changed things. He was going to need a new argument if he wished to leave here with Jefferson agreeing to help him.

Finally Jefferson stood aside. Once in the residence he led him through the halls and into a kitchen that he could only describe as "modern". How odd...Storybrooke, buildings and houses alike, had the feeling of a town where time had stopped. Nothing was updated, nothing was new, and if the few television programs he'd watched over the years told him anything, it was that most, if not all of the town would not fit into the world beyond the town line. But Jefferson's home...it was different. It smelled like fresh paint, new tiles, white or bland colored walls with a splash of color here and there. It was all straight lines and right angles, like it had been professionally designed and decorated by an interior decorator. It was as if time moved forward in this house, but in this house only. It was a surreal feeling.

"Still a tea drinker?" Jefferson asked him as he tried to disguise his dis-ease in the house.

"Yes," he lied looking around as he got to work in the kitchen. He didn't drink tea, not much these days anyway. Like so many in this world he'd made the switch to coffee and now tea reminded him of unpleasant memories that made his chest burn. It reminded him of someone. He turned back to Jefferson who stood over the stove before he could think too much of it. Belle couldn't help him now. "I need a favor."

"Sorry, you are fresh out of 'favors'," Jefferson muttered not even bothering to look up at him as he worked. "If you'll recall, you traded them all away when I went to fetch Cruella De Ville from London."

"And then I saved your daughter's life."

Finally he looked up at him. "You didn't do that because I owed you a favor," he argued. His eyes were hard and wearied, so far from the curious and carefree boy he'd once encountered. He was the opposite of that boy now and all at once his mind got over the shock of meeting him again, memories intact, and instead filled with questions. Where had he been? Why did he have his memories? Why was Grace living with a family across town instead of with him?

"When I saved your daughter we made a deal, we-"

"Hadn't yet struck that deal before Belle begged you to help and you couldn't resist being the hero in front of her. I never signed a contract, never gave verbal agreement, not even a physical agreement such as a shake of the hand or a nod of the head. You forget how much you taught me, Rumpelstiltskin."

He was right. And it left him speechless.

It was blow after blow after blow with him it seemed. His old accomplice had grown teeth since he'd last seen him, he knew where to strike and strike hard he had. Because it wasn't the lack of formal deal that had him practically on his knees now, but the mention of Belle. He hadn't been prepared for hearing his name spoken aloud after all these years, hearing Belle's name…it made his chest squeeze dangerously tight. It hurt. Jefferson had spent all of one night in the castle with him and Belle, but he was smart and observant. He'd almost forgotten how he'd picked up on something between them even before they had. Or maybe just before he'd wanted to. So far, he deeply regretted coming to Jefferson. His old associate was far from a friend. Right now he was aiming for pain, aiming for shock and awe. And he was succeeding.

"There's that look," Jefferson muttered as the kettle began to whistle.

"What look?"

"The look of a cursed man who can't have what he wants."

He swallowed as he turned to fetch some teacups. No. He couldn't have what he wanted. He wanted his child and he wanted Belle. One of those things was gone forever, never coming back. And how foolish was he to still want her after all these years, to still feel her loss as though it was an open wound that should have closed years ago. Fucking True Love…

"Belle is dead," he stated as emotionlessly as possible, for Jefferson's benefit as well as his own.

Jefferson's head snapped up in shock from where he poured the tea. A moment of quiet, of total stillness as the words, the truth of it settled over them both. And then the surprise passed, Jefferson blinked and swallowed as time moved forward, and he looked back down at his task, focusing too much on making sure the tea got into the cups.

"You don't say…"

"Yes."

He wanted him to suffer? He wanted him to feel what he'd felt, fine. He could play that game. He could play that game because Belle was dead but Baelfire was still out there. He still had a chance at getting half of what he wanted. Now that he was here and saw the situation he knew it wasn't ideal, but he could still work with it, maybe even more than he could before. He just had to be willing to suffer a bit with the Realm Jumper. Camaraderie. Wasn't that what he'd wanted when they were in the Enchanted Forest and his wife had died?

"You were right all those years ago, I loved her," he admitted as Jefferson brought him a cup with a smell that reminded him of her. "If I could see her again, take it all back…I'd do things differently, but I'm not here for me. I'm here for you."

"You've intrigued me," he stated, taking a seat by the window. "I'm not saying I'm willing to work with you, but I am curious."

"You always were…" he muttered to himself glancing at the other seat. "Very well." He took the seat opposite him and set his cup down, desperate to get the smell away from him. He needed to get a grip. Jefferson had thrown him off balance, he needed to take it back. He had to make a deal. He could focus on that. "You know the look of a cursed man because you see it every morning when you look into the mirror, don't you. Your daughter, Grace…she goes by Paige these days, doesn't she? In the care of a Mr. and Mrs. Grace…ironic, isn't it?"

"What do you want, Rumpelstiltskin?" he snapped, finally sitting forward and setting his own tea down. He wasn't the only one who knew how to touch a nerve.

"I find myself in need of assistance. I had hoped to ask a cursed version of my former associate, but this kind of cursed version works just as well."

"I don't work for you anymore," he stated clearly with bitterness in his voice. "And I've been stuck here for twenty-eight years, long enough to know that you're the boss of your own little mob. They do your dirty work just fine, go ask one of them."

"None of them are in the situation you are. And…they're busy, at least the ones that I trust for this kind of job."

Jefferson slanted his head and stared at him through a careful and curious gaze. "What game are you playing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he smiled, happy he'd finally asked a question that might help them both. "I'm trying to break the Curse. That's why I can work with you better this way than in a cursed state. Because in this way I can offer you what I know you want…your daughter."

His remark came in loud and clear despite the fact that Jefferson suddenly shot out of his seat and turned away from him, a hand scrubbing over his face. He knew he'd heard him because it was that very concept of getting what he wanted that had elicited the reaction. They knew each other too well, he and Jefferson. He'd always put up a cocky front in the Enchanted Forest, pretending not to give a shit about the fact that he had a daughter. But he'd been proud of him. He'd been disappointed he didn't want to work for him anymore. But as a father he'd known that he'd made the right choices, taken responsibility, loved his child. Love was a weakness. And it was what was going to get him through this plan. The promise of tomorrow…

"The Curse breaks, your daughter remembers who you are…she comes home. It's a win for everyone involved except perhaps, Regina."

"Why?" he choked out, his back still to him grappling with the offer he'd made.

"Because she's the one who-"

"No…why are you doing this?" he asked rounding on him. "I'm not exactly the most brilliant man, especially not after twenty-eight years of stewing in a cursed town without any concept of time, but I'm smart enough to put two and two together! This Curse…this is what you had me searching for all those years ago, this was what you were training Regina for, this is what you wanted! So why the hell do you want to break it now!"

"Buyer's remorse."

"No…you're too smart for that!" he pointed out with a chuckled. "You knew what you were getting yourself into. And I've been watching from the shadows long enough to know that you haven't always had your memories, which means you figured out a way to wake yourself up early. You wanted this. Why would you suddenly unwant it?"

They knew each other well, too well perhaps, which was why he had no intention of telling him "why". Not even after all these years. He hadn't even wanted to tell Belle. The secret of his son would stay with him. Except…they knew each other too well…

"There's something here, isn't there?" Jefferson presumed, lowering himself back into his seat again. "The first time we met you asked if I could bring you here and I said I couldn't. This is how you did it. This is how far you were willing to go to get to this realm! There is something here worth cursing an entire land for! What is here that you needed to reach? What could you possibly want in a land without magic?!"

"You can ask all you like, dearie…but I'm not going to tell you that," he responded as calmly as possible. Shared history, it could be a bitch. "All I will tell you is that you and I are more alike than you know. We're both alone in a world searching for someone to love, someone to love us."

"You think that's here?"

"I know it is."

"What, you know…you know Belle is alive? You think this is the only way to get to her."

"Belle is dead. My happiness lies elsewhere…" he stated, rising out of the seat himself. He cast his gaze out over the view Jefferson had in Storybrooke. Ironic. It was ironic, just like everything about this curse. Once he was a man who valued riches and freedom. Now he had probably one of the most comfortable homes in Storybrooke, a high income. He wanted for nothing…save his daughter. He was trapped in a world of meaningless riches. Just like he was. But out there, beyond the borders of Storybrooke, there was hope. His son was out there. He just had to see this through, he had to get to him. Belle would want that.

"If I agree to help you, and that's a pretty big 'if' from where I'm standing, by the way…what would you need me to do?"

He felt no victory in hearing the question. There was only relief.

"Kathryn Nolan-"

"David's 'wife'?" He turned back to glance at his former associate and raised his eyebrows. How did he know that? Jefferson shrugged at the silent communication. "I took a hint from you, I watch everything. I've had to do something these last twenty-eight years. "

"Yes…" he muttered suddenly noticing the telescopes and the windows in the home as he hadn't before. He probably would have been better at spying than Dove had been, though that was irrelevant now. He had to focus. "Kathryn Nolan went missing last night."

Jefferson snorted. "Tragic, not that you seem torn up about it. I'm going to guess it was Theseus son?"

"Let's just say I know she's in a safe place with someone I trust."

"Of course you do. So…what's this got to do with me?"

"Mary Margaret-"

"The Former Snow White." He nodded and stalked back to take his seat again.

"She'll be charged with her murder soon."

"That could be problematic for the two love birds."

"It could be, but she's not the concern."

"So who is?"

"Her daughter. The Savior," he sighed as he let his cane tap against the floor. "Emma Swan is the Savior, she's the daughter of Prince Charming and Snow White, the product of True Love. The magic she carries with her is unique. She has the power to break the Curse, that's why the clock began to move again the night she decided to stay here. She has power, she just doesn't believe it."

"Her son-"

"Henry tells her all of this…but we both know that adults aren't always likely to believe what their children say. She needs to hear it from someone else."

"And you want that to be me," he assumed correctly.

He nodded. "Mary Margaret will be charged with murder. She'll escape. She'll run. And because Emma loves her, whether she knows of the relationship or not, she will come after her to prevent making the situation worse. I need you to intercept Mary Margaret. I need you to get Emma here, somewhere the Queen can't reach. I need you to make her start asking the right questions; convince her she's special, help her see that Henry's stories might be more than stories."

"Why else would a Mayor want to frame an elementary schoolteacher," Jefferson mumbled, proving he understood the situation in just a few short sentences better than anyone else. "And then I get my Grace back…"

And there was the downside to this plan. He was a patient man, but he'd never known Jefferson to be someone willing to sit on the bench and wait for something to happen. He needed Emma to start believing so the Curse could break. But after this plan it could be a day until the Curse broke, it could be another year. Jefferson wasn't going to be happy.

"This is a delicate process-"

"No."

"It's a long game-"

"No."

"We have to play-"

"NO!" hits hand against the table between them. "No…I'm done playing long games, I'm done with watching my daughter like a stalker through a telescope lens! I want her back! I want my Grace back the way she was! I want you to fix her like you fixed yourself. Wake her up!"

"I don't have that kind of power here!" he shouted back. "Not yet! But if you do this-"

"Why should I?" he screamed getting on his feet again. "Why should I do this for you?"

"Have I ever led you astray?" he asked calmly. "Have I ever lied to you?"

"You weren't there when I needed you," he answered back through gritted teeth. "Why should I be here when you need me?"

This old argument. He knew what he was referring to. He was talking about when his wife died. He'd kept expecting him to come in and visit and then what? They could grab a beer? Weep together over the death of Whatshername? He had feelings for Jefferson, a host of them that he couldn't sort out. As the Dark One, he hadn't seen any benefit to Jefferson's marriage or child, only the fact that they took him away from where he needed him. But as Rumpelstiltskin, as a father and a former husband…he respected the man more than anyone and that included Mr. Gold. He'd felt for him. He'd spent nights regretting not going to his aid, remembering that this was about getting Baelfire back, not making friends with the help. The Dark One had been upset when Jefferson left because talent was wasted. Rumpelstiltskin had been upset because he'd grown fond of him and considered him something of a son. The fact that they'd come to this…he was torn.

"They call me mad…did you know?" Jefferson finally asked. "Do you know why they call me that? Why my daughter isn't with me? Do you know where I was before the Curse hit? Wonderland. I was trapped there. The Evil Queen hired me to retrieve something from that realm for her. I left Grace with some neighbors and the pair of us went to retrieve it because I had no money and she promised to make it worth my while. She didn't tell me that what she wanted me to retrieve was another person, her own damn father!

"The same number of people that go into Wonderland have to come out. Did I ever tell you that? One of the quirks of the land. Regina tricked me. She got her father back, but I…I was left behind. I was a sacrifice to her! And Grace, my Grace…I couldn't get back to her! My hat was gone. I spent…I don't know how much time it was trying to construct another one, trying to find the same power my grandfather had! I spent years waiting for you to come and help me out of there! To use the portal I'd given you to help me! But you never came!

"It felt like forever all that time I spent trying to get back to my daughter! And then the cloud of magic swept over the land and now here she is! She's right in front of me. But she doesn't even know her own name! And you know who helped you do that?! You know who helped you create this Curse, the Curse that gave Regina that power to keep us apart?!

"It was me! I helped you do it! This is all partly my fault because I listened to you! So why should I do it again? Why should I listen to you? So far you've been the worst mistake I've ever made."

"Because you'll tear the world apart to get your child back," he answered softly, trying to dislodge the rock that had formed in his throat. Those were hefty accusations he'd just thrown at him. And they were true. All of them. Every last one. It didn't matter that in the months before Regina cast the Curse he'd been held a prisoner and couldn't save Jefferson. He knew that information would be lost on him, irrelevant. He had to get him to look to the future, not the past. And it all started with something he could do in the present.

"Emma breaks the Curse, I bring magic back…you get your daughter," he explained easily. "Everyone can be reunited with their loved ones, not just you. But this is a crucial piece. And it may take me a while to deliver on my promise, to return the favor, but I've never promised you something and not delivered. This is just how it's done."

Jefferson leaned back against his kitchen counter. He folded his arms over his chest and looked down at his feet, crossed at the ankles. He thought he might have heard him sniff. Finally he raised his eyes and look at him. "I'll do it…" he answered. "I'll do it to get my daughter back, because Grace needs me. And then I never want to see you again, Rumpelstiltskin."

"Is that a formal request?" he asked, trying to find some bit of humor to dispel some of the tension, though he couldn't figure out what that mattered to him. It wasn't a formal request, it was just…it was the end. He'd said things like that to him before but there was a finality in it this time. It felt like a deal was being made. They'd finally arrived at their last deal.

"Can't be…then I'd owe you two favors," Jefferson answered.

"We'll stick with just the one then." He smiled despite the seriousness of it as he recalled the Seer's words. He'll return the favor. Yes. Even if it wasn't formal, something in the magic around them understood a deal was being made. He just didn't know what that final favor would be. He'd have to be surprised. But he found he was remarkably okay with that, for once in his life. "I need to get back to the shop," he muttered quietly, getting to his own feet and leaving his tea untouched. "Things to do, people to see-"

"Plots to hatch…" he finished for him in a sad sort of way. "Why did you do this? Are you really never going to tell me?"

Never…never was a bet he wasn't comfortable making, not with Jefferson, not when he lived forever. But it did seem unfair in a way. After all the work he'd done for him, after what he was about to do.

"Because once I lost someone that I love. And to get them back again…I too would tear the world apart."

"Is that why you went after King Maurice? Moe French?" Jefferson corrected quickly, grabbing hold of the only loss he knew about. He wasn't wrong, not entirely. But he wasn't right either. Not entirely. "I heard what you did to him."

"That was just a man finally receiving his just rewards for his daughter's death."

"Wait, you…you think her father killed her?"

"There is more than one way to be responsible for a person's death, Jefferson. I'll see myself out."

"What if she wasn't?!" Jefferson cried out before he'd taken less than three steps. "Dead, I mean. What if you could get her back? I mean…I assume you want magic for something."

His chest hurt again. One breath. Then another. He had to stay steady and focused. "Magic can't bring the dead back, I thought you would have learned that from me."

"Hypothetically, then."

"I stand by everything I've said. And more. For those I love I'd tear the world apart with no regrets. I'll see your compensated for your troubles, Mr. Jefferson."

[voodoochili]

My 75 Favorite Albums of 2020

Every year produces excellent music and 2020 was no exception. The exceptional thing about this year, though, is the loss of livelihood so many musicians suffered as a result of the pandemic. To better celebrate all I’ve listened to and loved this year, I’ve expanded my albums list from 50 to 75 albums and included a highlight track from each in the Spotify playlist below. If you like what you hear, why not throw the artist a few dollars on Bandcamp?

Check the Spotify playlist HERE.

Without further ado, my favorite albums of 2020. Happy New Year, and happy listening!

10. Playboi Carti - Whole Lotta Red: Carti’s long-awaited opus has only been out for a week, which is probably not a long enough time to give an album as sprawling and surprising as this one a full critical evaluation. But I do know when I’m hearing something that’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard: this album rearranges hip-hop at the molecular level. 

Whole Lotta Red is overstuffed with invention, the glitchy, expansive production giving Carti ample opportunity to glom onto the contours of the beat and experiment with his voice. That voice is the album’s main attraction: it squeaks, it squeals, it roars, it spits, it shudders, and organizes itself into irresistibly ignorant mantras (my current favorite is “Lamborghini parked outside, it’s purple like lean”). 

Across its 24 tracks (which feels like too many, sure, but only the 5-minute long Kid Cudi-infected droner “Metamorphosis” overstays its welcome), Carti plays with listener expectations, annihilating rap songwriting conventions (why do you need verse-chorus structure if every line is a hook) as he defiantly proclaims his desire to be unlike anybody else. Though it bears some resemblance in sound and subject matter to Future’s Monster (and much of the production owes a debt to the work of Lil Uzi Vert’s favored Working Of Dying collective), Whole Lotta Red firmly establishes Carti as a totemic figure connecting mainstream and underground sounds.

9. BbyMutha - Muthaland: BbyMutha is a natural born spitter, armed with a drawly stutter-stepping flow that routinely annihilates unconventional instrumentals. She glows with supreme confidence and comfort in her own skin, especially when she’s dripping with disdain with those who’d dare refuse her the respect she deserves. A 25-track opus that earns every minute of its runtime, Muthaland is an engrossing immersion into Mutha’s world, balancing a fascination with the occult (“Sorry I don’t fuck with n****s who don’t fuck with Satan”) with grounding interjections from close friends and her four children. Boasting rockstar fantasies like “Heavy Metal,” bad girl anthems like “Nice Guy,” and dancefloor-ready jams like “Cocaine Catwalk,” Muthaland is a tour-de-force by one of rap’s singular voices, and if she’s really finished with music as she’s claimed (rappers never really retire, but Mutha has indicated she wants to focus full time on her Apothecary), the game will greatly miss her incisive punchlines and crudely empowering perspective.

8. Westerman - Your Hero Is Not Dead: In 2020, Mid-’80s sophistipop grew into one of my favorite comfort foods. Westerman’s Your Hero Is Not Dead struck me directly in the sophistipop sweet spot, evoking the attention-to-detail and synth-heavy craftsmanship of that era and pairing it with harmonic complexity and a piercing emotionalism that recalls his idol Neil Young. On songs like “Blue Comanche” and “The Line,” Westerman constructs tales as twisty as his melodies, economically exploring how people relate to each other at the beginning and end of romantic relationships. Westerman complements his tasteful palette of synth sounds with intricate and lyrical guitar playing, most notably on the sighing, gorgeous instrumental “Float Over,” which softly segues into the title track to end the album on a gently-rising high note.

7. WizKid - Made In Lagos: The focal point of the sub-Saharan Afrobeats renaissance, Lagos is having one of the most exciting musical moments of any city since Kingston in the early ‘70s. WizKid is one of the scene’s biggest stars, with an ability to combine the sonic tapestry of his hometown with Caribbean-influenced beats and vocal styles. Made In Lagos is a masterwork of sound design, bringing creamy bass, chicken-scratch speckles of guitar, tasteful interjections of saxophone and brass, and an intoxicating mix of acoustic and electronic percussion, all offered in service to an immaculate vibe that matches the album cover’s shiny, monochromatic color scheme. Made with lockdown in mind, the album eschews uptempo dancefloor workouts in favor of stress-relief and romance. WizKid plays the perfect host, tamping down his melodic flights of fancy and embracing a song-serving smoothness. He’s a warm and inviting presence throughout, laying out the red carpet for a cross-continental cast of collaborators like H.E.R., Skepta, Burna Boy, and Damian Marley. The result is a truly global pop masterpiece, capable of brightening even the dourest day of a miserable year.

6. Ka - Descendants of Cain: Firefighter by day and rapper/producer by night, Ka is a master of allusion. He organizes his thoughts into themed collections of metaphor, illustrating the bleak realities of street life with gnomic symbolism. On Descendants Of Cain, Ka’s strongest work to date, the enigmatic rapper expresses himself through a litany of biblical references, drawing parallels between ancient parables (he goes far deeper than the Cain/’caine double entendre that rappers have been using for decades) and the stark code of morality with which he lives his life. The 48-year-old hermit produced the project himself, creating an immersive sonic realm, crafting expansive, noir-ish backing tracks populated by late-night saxophones, sparkling pianos, and the occasional shot of sweeping strings. Once again, Ka’s music comes almost entirely without drums (certainly without “beats” in the traditional hip-hop sense–every once in a while, he adds an open hi-hat or a subdued shaker), the artist preferring to let his music swirl around his half-whispered words of wisdom. The album ends on a tearful, sentimental note with “I Love (Mimi, Moms, Kev),” in which the artist ditches the biblical lyrical conceit and expresses his love for his wife, his mom, and his best friend atop light percussion and a warm soul sample.

5. SAULT - Untitled (Rise): Rise is the second part of a diptych that SAULT recorded in response to the movement that exploded in the wake of George Floyd’s death. Black Is, the first part, is a great album (you’ll find it in the lower reaches of my 2020 list), but the mysterious UK collective fulfilled their immense potential with Rise, a propulsive, powerful, and danceable album that doubles as a thought-provoking examination of the nature of freedom and liberation. The album tackles weighty topics–police violence, fake-woke “allies,” protest, cultural appropriation–but handles them with an inspiring effervescence and a propulsion meant to usher right-thinking people into the streets. The music itself is an intoxicating marvel, combining elements from every trendy musical movement from the early ‘80s (post-disco, post-punk, house, hip-hop, whatever the hell ESG was) into a percussive and surprisingly cohesive cocktail. The album immediately makes its greatness known with its first four songs, one of the strongest opening runs of any album in recent memory: the swaggering, funky, keep-your-head-up anthem “Strong,” which features a drum solo from SAULT architect Inflo, the soaring, club-ready vamp “Fearless,” concept-establishing, string-heavy interlude “Rise,” and especially “I Just Want to Dance,” the best song ESG never wrote. 

4. Fiona Apple - Fetch The Bolt Cutters: Fetch The Bolt Cutters arrived with the kind of universal acclaim that can make some people suspicious. The Pitchfork review got a lot of attention, not just for its perfect score but for its bold statement that “no music has ever sounded quite like it.” 

That statement might’ve been slightly hyperbolic. Fetch The Bolt Cutters has the kind of propulsive left-hand piano figures, chest-thumping percussion, and impassioned vocal performances that we haven’t heard since...the last Fiona Apple album. But the album deserves its experimental reputation. These songs mess around with song structure and melody in ways that resemble avant-garde singers like Meredith Monk, use overlapping vocals that occasionally evoke the works of post-modern composers like Luciano Berio, and echoing modernist composers like Edgard Varese in the way she wrings pathos out of rhythmic elements.

Though Fetch might be a slight step down from The Idler Wheel, it’s an invigorating listen, packed with the soul-baring confessionals that only Fiona is capable of executing. Combining literary wordplay with plainspoken directness, Fiona forces the listener to confront her trauma and contemplate her diagnoses of patriarchal ills. The songs are uniformly excellent–especially opener “I Want You To Love Me,” the most “traditional” song on the record, and “Shameika,” a burrowing childhood rumination with a happy ending–but Fetch The Bolt Cutters stands out to me as a collection of amazing moments: when the jig-like “For Her” fades into an unforgettably painful cadence (“Good mornin’, good mornin’/You raped me in the same bed your daughter was born in”), Fiona’s ground-shaking vocal intensity at the end of “Newspaper,” her dogs howling over the outro of “Fetch The Bolt Cutters,” the winking repetition of the title phrase on “Ladies.” Her albums display more than enough ambition to forgive the long gestation periods, but hopefully we won’t have to wait another 8 years for Fiona to bare her soul once again.

3. Drakeo The Ruler - Thank You For Using GTL: Embroiled in a Kafkaesque legal saga that shines a light on the worst aspects of our horrendous justice system, Drakeo The Ruler spent more than three years wrongly incarcerated for a crime he not only did not commit, but for which he was acquitted (for more info on Drakeo’s ordeal, read Jeff Weiss). He’s now mercifully a free man, mostly due to the work of his lawyer, but at least partially because of publicity generated by Thank You For Using GTL. Recorded over the phone from prison during the height of the pandemic, it’s a miracle that an album created under such sub-optimal conditions sounds as excellent as it does, but credit producer JoogSzn–who not only supplied the creeping, head-nodding backing tracks but recorded Drakeo’s phoned-in vocals–and engineer MixedByNavin for the project’s astonishing fidelity. Drakeo and Joog spent hours on the phone to record the album, in the process paying thousands of dollars to GTL, the predatory telecom company of choice for the L.A. corrections system, whose mechanical interjections serve as a constant reminder of the injustice that made the album necessary. Of course, a good story is a good story, but that alone doesn’t get an album on 2020’s most prestigious Best Albums list (mine). It’s a classic rap album, perhaps the best ever released by an incarcerated rapper, and a thumb directly in the nose of the D.A. and the LAPD. The album is a lyrical marvel, packed with winding wordplay and outlandish flexes, as Mr. Mosley takes aim at 6ix9ine, cackles at sorry-ass Instagram haters, and sneers at American-made cars (“To be honest, a Hellcat isn’t a foreign”). Each song has a carefully considered concept, the rapper’s punchlines building upon one another to make an airtight case for his status as L.A.’s top dog. He contrasts his own whip-crashing lifestyle with flashy wannabes on “GTA VI” and “Backflip or Sumn,” mourns a favorite department store on “RIP Barneys,” and proves he still doesn’t rap beef on “Maestro’s Tension.” The album’s masterstroke comes with “Fictional,” the final track, in which Drakeo exposes the prosecution’s use of his lyrics as evidence in criminal proceedings as the farce it is: “It might sound real, but it’s fictional/I love that my imagination gets to you.” Drakeo’s story was a rare bright spot in 2020, and a rare one with a happy ending. Just last week, the rapper released Because Y’All Asked, a studio-recorded version of Thank You For Using GTL, giving the album’s songs the clarity they deserve. But I think I’ll mostly return to the original, which will live on as an excellent album and a vital document of post-George Floyd America.

2. Pa Salieu - Send Them to Coventry: Hailing from the middle of nowhere–or, more accurately city in the English Midlands only known in the states for its middling Premier League team–Gambian-British artist Pa Salieu served up the most distinctive, visceral, and daring rap debut of the year. His style fuses elements of grime, drill, afro-trap, dancehall, and the darker edges of U.S. hip-hop into a percussive slurry, injected with the urgency of his struggle to survive. The magic of the album comes from the way Pa’s fluid flows interact with the shimmering and foreboding production (Felix Joseph and Aod lead the cast of the project’s sound architects), which is perfectly suited for cold city nights. He slips effortlessly into the pocket, toe-tagging the beats with a combination of aggression and trance-like meditation and uttering casually powerful pronouncements (“I'd make a killa riddim offa any riddim/The grind can never stop 'til I'm wrapped in linen”) that make you believe he’s Britain’s next great rapper. Pa keeps the vibe consistent throughout, but the moments that stand out are the moments when he locks into an unbreakable groove over no-frills production, like on singles “Block Boy,” “Betty,” and “B***K.” The artist’s wry sense of humor and brash confidence keeps the album from feeling bleak, but Send Them To Coventry wisely ends on “Energy,” a warm and bright ode to keeping your creative spark safe from the prying forces of fame and fortune.

1. Kassa Overall - I Think I’m Good: “I think I’m good”–a phrase that’s ran through my head throughout this shitstorm of a year. Sure, I postponed a wedding, cancelled trips, and saw my friends and family much less often than I would like, but I count myself among the lucky ones. Still breathing, still sane. Though it was recorded and released before the pandemic started, Kassa Overall’s I Think I’m Good became a lodestar of sorts for me. It’s a brilliantly introspective and deeply personal album about existing in enclosed spaces–whether a jail cell, an NYC subway car, or the inescapable prison of your own body.

Kassa Overall made his name as a jazz drummer, touring with icons like Geri Allen, but his solo music incorporates elements of hip-hop, classical, and trap to create a wholly original milieu. The album features contributions from over 30 accomplished voices, ranging from luminary Vijay Iyer, to Kassa’s saxophonist brother Carlos Overall, to virtuosic pianist Sullivan Fortner, to venerated activist Angela Davis. But all the disparate elements come together in service of Kassa’s deeply personal and engrossing vision.

Taking partial inspiration from Kassa’s struggle with manic depression, the music fluctuates between meditative calm and unbearable tension, mimicking the patter of an unquiet mind. Album opener “Visible Walls,” is a mesmerizing prayer for salvation soundtracked by fluttering harps, piercing woodwinds, and heartbeat percussion. “Find Me” buries a plea for help within a cacophony of sampled voices and rattling piano notes. Fortner’s piano guides us through the hauntingly devastating “Halfway House” and the Chopin-indebted “Darkness In Mind,” each highlighting a different stage of grief (despair and acceptance, respectively). The arc of I Think I’m Good concludes with the hopeful “Got Me A Plan” and “Was She Happy (For Geri Allen),” a Vijay Iyer-assisted tribute to his late friend and mentor. 

It’s ironic that an album that so deeply explores the feeling of isolation vibrates with such a collaborative spirit. I Think I’m Good feels like an answered prayer–a community coming together to check on a beloved friend who’s gone through a tough time: “You good, man?” “I think so.”

Here’s the rest of my list.

11. Yves Tumor - Heaven To A Tortured Mind 12. Shackleton & Waclaw Zimpel - Primal Forms 13. Bob Dylan - Rough & Rowdy Ways 14. Duval Timothy - Help 15. Lil Uzi Vert - Eternal Atake 16. Moodymann - Taken Away 17. Secret Drum Band - Chuva 18. J Hus - Big Conspiracy 19. Headie One & Fred Again - GANG 20. Tiwa Savage - Celia 21. Andras - Joyful 22. Bill Callahan - Gold Record 23. King Von - Welcome To O’Block 24. Flo Milli - Ho, Why Is You Here? 25. Chubby & The Gang - Speed Kills 26. Madeline Kenney - Sucker’s Lunch 27. Empty Country - Empty Country 28. Smino - She Already Decided 29. Destroyer - Have We Met 30. Yves Jarvis - Sundry Rock Song Stock 31. Ela Minus - Acts Of Rebellion 32. Creeper - Sex, Death & The Infinite Void 33. Alabaster DePlume - To Cy & Lee: Instrumentals, Vol. 1 34. Good Sad Happy Bad - Shades 35. The 1975 - Notes On a Conditional Form 36. Kate NV - Room For The Moon 37. $ilkmoney - Attack of the Future Shocked, Flesh Covered, Meatbags of the 85 38. Eddie Chacon - Pleasure, Joy and Happiness 39. Kenny Segal & Serengeti - Ajai 40. Bad Bunny - YHLQMDLG 41. Kahlil Blu - DOG 42. Califone - Echo Mine 43. Boldy James - The Price of Tea in China/Manger On McNichols/The Versace Tape 44. Bufiman - Albumsi 45. Moses Boyd - Dark Matter 46. Thanya Iyer - KIND 47. Jyoti - Mama You Can Bet! 48. Obongjayar - Which Way Is Forward? 49. Rio Da Yung OG - City On My Back 50. Young Jesus - Welcome To Conceptual Beach 51. Owen Pallett - Island 52. Oceanator - Things I Never Said 53. Shootergang Kony - Red Paint Reverend 54. Shabason, Krgovich & Harris - Philadelphia 55. Six Organs of Admittance - Companion Rises 56. Lido Pimienta - Miss Colombia 57. Kelly Lee Owens - Inner Song 58. Polo G - The GOAT 59. Actress - Karma & Desire 60. Phoebe Bridgers - Punisher 61. Porridge Radio - Every Bad 62. Yg Teck - Eyes Won’t Close 63. Mozzy - Beyond Bulletproof 64. Ratboys - Printer’s Devil 65. R.A.P. Ferreira - Purple Moonlight Pages 66. Ulver - Flowers of Evil 67. Rina Sawayama - SAWAYAMA 68. SAULT - Untitled (Black Is) 69. Ezra Feinberg - Recumbent Speech 70. Davido - A Better Time 71. Hailu Mergia - Yene Mircha 72. HAIM - Women In Music Pt. III 73. Half Waif - The Caretaker 74. Key Glock - Yellow Tape 75. KeiyAa - Forever Your Girl

[unseemingowl]

Hey! How about 7, 11, & 20?

7. What story/headcanons do you feel the proudest of? 

If I gotta single out a specific story element in one of my fics, I think making Nick’s mom a Night-bastard in the beast was always there might be the thing I’m most pleased with. Because it just blew Nick’s relationship with both Prudence and Sabrina wide open for me - his sympathy and interest for Prudence’s lack of formal status and Sabrina’s complicated heritage just makes perfect sense when seen with those glasses. 

Although I am also very happy with the swoony, love struck tension I managed to create between Nick and Sabrina in my lover of blood and milk. 

11. How would you describe your style? (Character/emotion/action-driven, etc)

I would say a mixture between emotion and character driven with action and plot unfortunately taking more of a secondary seat (I would like to do better on that front, maybe in my next story - which I think is going to be the werewolf one). In an ideal world I would like to be perfectly balanced in all elements, but that’s probably a bit too big an ask XD 

20. What feedback makes you the happiest to hear?

I love all comments. That people take time out of their day to say they liked my stuff is forever a gift. That being said, I do really appreciate specificity. A specific line or concept that stood out, I love to hear about it - also makes me able to maybe put more of that stuff in another story or chapter. 

And then I have a particular love for the kind of comments that say stuff like “had to yell and the screen because the characters are dumb” or “I needed a drink after reading this” because it gives me a sort of sense of the person sitting on the other side of the screen which is a big kick.  

Thank you for the questions @bunivys :) 

[ourkinfolx]

No. 1: Fania

Fania Noel is a woman with plans. And not just the vast, sweeping plans like the dismantling of capitalism and black liberation. She also has smaller, but no less important, plans like brunch with friends, hitting the gym. 

“Every week, I put in my calendar the times I need to be efficient,” she explains. “So I put what time I work out, with my friends, my time to watch TV shows, to read. And after, I can give people the link to put obligations.”

The link she’s referring to is her online scheduling system connected to her personal website. It’s one I’ve become well acquainted with after our first two failed attempts to schedule interviews. We had plans to meet in person, in a Parisian Brasserie she’d recommended, but between canceled flights and buses, Skype turned out to be the most practical option. Our disrupted travel was just one in a long list of inconveniences brought on by the virus safety measures. It might even be said that the coronavirus also had plans. 

The global pandemic and subsequent slowing of—well, everything comes up a few times in our conversation. Like some of the other activists I’ve talked to, Fania sees a silver lining, an opportunity.

“This might be the only sequence of events in the history of humanity that you have the whole planet living at the same tempo, being in quarantine or locked down or slowed activity,” she says. 

“So we all have a lot of time to think about how [society is] fucked up or the weight of our lives in terms of this society. And I think we have to ask if we want to go back to this rushed kind of living. It’s really a game changer.”

I first heard of Fania, a Haitian born afro-feminist, earlier in the year, while talking to a Parisian friend about the need for more black spaces in the city. She angrily described how a few years ago, Fania tried to have an event for black women, only to be met with fierce backlash and derision from not just right-wing groups, but anti-racist and anti-Semitic groups. The event wasn’t actually Fania’s alone; it was an effort by Mwasi Collective, a French afro-feminist group that she’s involved with. 

Either way, it was a minor scandal. Hotly debated on French TV and radio. Even Anne Hidalgo, Paris’s mayor, voiced disapproval. Critics claimed the event, called Nyansapo Festival, was racist itself by exclusion because most of the space had been designated for black women only. 

Despite all the fuss, the Nyansapo Festival went on as planned. Several years later, following the killing of George Floyd and the international movement that followed, Anne Hidalgo published a tweet ending with the hashtag #BlackLivesMatter. I found it curious, she’s always struck me as more of an #AllLivesMatter type. 

I ask Fania if, given the tweet and possible change of heart from the mayor, she thinks her event would be better received in the current climate. She points out that there had been two Nyansapo Festivals since, with little to no media coverage, but seems overall uninterested in rehashing the drama. 

“We’re way beyond that now,” she says, shaking her head. She ends it in a way that will be familiar to anyone who’s ever been almost imperceptibly corrected by a black woman, and I quickly move on to the next topic. 

It’s not until later, when reading some of her other interviews, that I’m able to fully contextualize our exchange. It’s common for activists, especially those working in or belonging to a culture where their identity makes them a minority, to be asked to view their work through the lens of conditional acceptance of a larger group of oppressors and/or gatekeepers. Asking feminists what men think, asking LGBT how they plan to placate heterosexuals. In her dismissal, Fania resists the line of questioning altogether, and in another interview, she makes the point more succinctly when explaining why she doesn’t believe in the concept of public opinion: 

“As an activist, the core ‘public’ is black people and to think about the antagonism and balance of power in terms of our politics rather than its reception. It’s normal in a racist, capitalist, patriarchal society that a political [movement] proposing the abolition of the system is not welcomed.”

One might argue if you’re not pissing anyone off, you’re not doing anything important. 

Rolling Stone’s July cover is a painting featuring a dark-skinned black woman, braids pulled into a round bun on her crown. She has George Floyd’s face on her T-shirt and an American flag bandana around her neck. One of her hands is raised in a fist, the other holds the hand of a young black boy next to her. Behind her, a crowd, some with fists also raised, carry signs with phrases like Our Lives Matter and Justice For All Now. 

According to Rolling Stone, they tasked the artist, Kadir Nelson, with creating something hopeful and inspirational and he “immediately thought of Eugène Delacroix’s ‘Liberty Leading the People,’ the iconic 1830 painting that depicts a woman leading the French Revolution.”

Regarding his choice to center a black woman in the piece, he explains: “The people who were pushing for those changes were African American women. They are very much at the forefront in spearheading this change, so I thought it was very important for an African American woman to be at the very center of this painting, because they have very much been at the center of this movement.”

During our call, I mention the painting and ask Fania her thoughts on why, so often, we find black women at the forefront of any social justice or human rights movement.

“Women have always organized,” she says simply. “Women work collectively, they run organizations.” She points to the church and organized religion as an example. 

“Look at the composition of church. Who’s going to church, who’s going to ask for help from God?”

Anyone who’s spent time in the houses of worship for a patriarchal religion has vivid memories of the very present men in the room. From the booming voices and squared shoulders of the pulpit to the stern, sometimes shaming looks of brothers, uncles, fathers. But the women, often more numerous, run the councils and the choirs. Around the world women pray more, attend church and are generally more religious. And the men?

“In a context of church, it’s really acceptable to ask for help from God. Because it’s God,” Fania says. “But you don’t have a lot of black men, a lot of men in any kind of church.”

That isn’t to say that men, especially black men, are complacent. Fania notes that traditional activism goes against the patriarchy’s narrow view of masculinity. 

Activism, she explains, requires one to acknowledge they’ve been a victim of a system before they can demand power. And for a lot of men, that’s not an option. 

“They want to be seen as strong,” she says. “As leaders. They want to exert control.”

In short, both black men and women acknowledge the system would have us powerless, but while women organize to collectively dismantle it, men tend to stake out on their own to dominate it. 

Black capitalism as resistance isn’t new, and was more prominent during the civil rights movement, which was largely led by men. In 1968, Roy Innis, co-national director for the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE) opined, 

“We are past the stage where we can talk seriously of whites acting toward blacks out of moral imperatives.” While CORE’s other director, Floyd McKissick, reasoned, 

“If a Black man has no bread in his pocket, the solution to his problem is not integration; it’s to get some bread.”

More recently the dynamics of this played out in real time on Twitter as Telfar, a black, queer-owned fashion label, sent out notifications of a handbag restock only to be immediately descended upon by a group of largely black, male resellers. Telfar describes itself as affordable luxury for everyone, and for many of the black women who buy Telfar, it exists as proof that class and fashion need not be so inextricably linked. But for the men who bulk purchased the bags just to triple the price and resell, these were just more items to wring capital out of on their quest to buy a seat at the table. 

Of course, it’s not unreasonable to argue that the purchase of a product, regardless of who makes it, as a path to liberation is still black capitalism. And in another interview, Fania specifically warns against this type of consumption. “Neoliberal Afrofeminism is more focused on representation, making the elite more diverse, and integration. This kind of afrofeminism is very media compatible. Like great Konbini-style videos about hair, lack of shades of makeup, and [other forms of] commodification.” But, she explains, “The goal is a mass movement where our people are involved, not just passively or as consumers.” 

But can consumption be divorced from black liberation if it’s such a key aspect in how so many black people organize? I bring up all the calls to “buy black” that happened in the wake of George Floyd. Some of it could be attributed to the cabin-fever induced retail therapy we all engaged in during quarantine. And for those of us who, for whatever reason, were unable to add our bodies to a protest, money seemed like an easy thing to offer. Buy a candle. A tub of shea butter. A tube of lip gloss. But what did it all really accomplish, in retrospect?

“We have to think about solidarity,” Fania explains. “Solidarity is a project. When we say support black-owned business, we still have to think about the goal, the project. So if we support coffee shops, bookshops, hair dressers that have a special place in the community and are open to the community and in conversation with the community, it’s good and it can help. But if it’s just to make some individual black people richer, it’s really limited.”

Black capitalism vs anti-capitalism remains an ongoing debate, but shouldn’t be a distraction. In the end, everyone will contribute how they best see fit and we still share a common goal. Besides, we’ll need all hands on deck to best make use of our current momentum. And that’s something Fania underscores in one of the last points she makes during our conversation:

“Something we have to repeat to people is that these protests: keep doing them. Because you have years and years of organization behind you. People came out against police brutality and a week later we’re talking about how we move towards the abolition of police, how we go towards the abolition of prison. How we move towards the end of capitalism. And this is possible because you have a grassroots organization thinking about the question even when no one else was asking it. So now we have the New York Times and the media asking if these things are possible. But that’s because even when we didn’t have the spotlight, we were working on the questions about the world after. And every day radical organizations, black liberation organizations, are thinking about the world after and the end of this system. And when protests and revolts happen, we can get there and say ‘we have a plan for this.’”

[melo-yello]

Zero Part 2 (Sweet Pea x POC Reader)

Pairing(s): Sweet Pea x POC Reader

Warning(s): It only gets fluffier, more goofy ass nicknames, and tons of cursing/mild confrontation

Word Count: 2,3k+

Summary: River Vixen Reader is flunking Trig but a certain leather jacket clad math wiz is here to help her out.

A/N: I kno 3 or 4 weeks is a lot longer than soon but it took a minute to get it the way I like it but it's here now so 🙌 Comment and I'll add you to the Taglist.

“V that's what I'm saying Arch is loyal to fault letting him into your world won't scare him away. Tell her B.” You affirm walking out of your 2nd block English class. You toss Betty a light elbow to get her attention. 

“Yea Veronica, he's kinda blind like that. He'd stick by you no matter what you do.” She spits shooting Veronica a death glare before out pacing the both of you. 

You trade glances between where Betty was standing and Veronica with her head down. 

“What just happened?” You question placing a hand on her shoulder. She sighs heavily.  

As if his spidey senses went off Archie appears out of nowhere snaking his arms around her waist and pecking her cheek. 

“Hey Ronnie. Hey Y/n. What's up?” He chuckles. 

“Nothing just that my best friend hates me.” Veronica says leaning into him. 

Well my work is done here, Archie to the rescue. 

“Ronnie that's not true-” is all you hear as you take the perfect opportunity to sneak off and meet up with Sweet Pea even though your inner gossip was dying for you to stay. 

He doesn't seem like he has much patience for waiting. 

You ease into library without so much as a sound. The place is practically a dead zone. You are sure you spot a couple spiders packing their things and leaving. 

A quick snort escapes you as you stifle the swelling laughter at your own joke. 

“Hey Wilber, I'm over here.” Sweet Pea says waving three shelves down by a window in a corner. 

“Hahaha. Did you come up with that all by yourself, 21 Jump Street.” You snip back sitting across from him as you hand him your homework. 

“Would you prefer-Jesus Y/n?!?” He nearly shouts with his jaw slacked as he lays eyes on the cluttered first problem on you homework, “You weren't kidding about needing tutor. Hell maybe a miracle worker is better match, Helen Keller.”

You roll your eyes to stare out the window as you twirl a curl around your finger while balancing a cheek on your fist. You try your best not to look as hurt as you feel pressing a stoic anger into your features instead. 

Even strangers could tell I'm stupid. 

“If I'm too stupid to help that's all you had to say.” You mutter wishing this kinda stuff didn't make your head spin. 

“A dumb cheerleader what a sur-” He paused catching the expression on your face. He could tell that he struck a nerve. He has definitely hurt your feelings and for some reason he cared.

“Fuck you pal, but that's what I'm good at! Thought I was good at the school thing too but APPARENTLY NOT! If I wanted to get made fun of I would've just asked one those stuck up assholes from my side of town so they can at least gossip behind my back.” You yell as you stand slamming your hands on the wooden table. 

Sweet Pea stands, looking just as indignant as you. 

“What the hell gave you the idea us Southsiders would be any better, Y/n! We're just people!”

“I didn't ask the Southside! I asked you! And I guess I thought you of all people weren't mean for sport!”

Sweet Pea's face holds its waning rage for a moment longer as his gaze meets yours. Neither you or him willing to back down. 

He sits snatching up the pen and turning attention back to his corrections on your homework. 

“Hey,” this time his voice much softer than it has ever been directed toward you,  “do you have your test? I need to see all the things you're doing wrong if I'm gonna have you ready for the next one.” He sighs apologetically with his eyes trained on the page scribbling away. 

You clear your throat and his eyes gaze up to meet yours. 

A look of shock settles on to your features as you search his dark eyes for a hint of sarcasm. You sit down and gingerly pass him your paper. 

“You really think you can?” You question waiting for him to pull the rug from under you so you could storm out. 

“Shit, I taught Fangs square roots, didn't I?” Sweet Pea grins over confidently taking the test and flipping through it as he slides your homework over. 

“You know I don't actually know who that is?” You say blankly as you try to imagine what a guy named Fangs would even look like before looking at what he'd done to your homework. 

“Not the point. The point is you're in good hands.” He nods. 

“Alright, Allstate. As long as you know you're gonna have to do a lot of explaining.” You say screwing up your face as you try your best to make sense of the corrected work. 

“That's okay I like being right,” He smiles before looking up at you, “...and for the record I don't think you're stupid.”

You just nod so glad that your embarrassment couldn't be seen on your brown skin. 

“Okay your biggest problem is that you've swapped the trig functions reciprocals. Like you put sine with secant and cosine with cotangent.” He says slowly pointing to the first couple test problems he had started to correct. 

The majority of the session is spent with him re-explaining concepts and reworking the test. 

The bell rings as you stuff your papers in bag. The idea of  passing Trig seeming a little less impossible. 

“What do I owe you, Grease Lightning?” You say putting a firm negotiating face on. Doing your best to suppress the smirk that keeps trying to work its way on your face. 

“Hmm you'll probably being needing help at least 4 days out of the week. I don't do weekends or Fridays. So 25 for each session and an IOU biweekly sounds fair to me?” He says extending his hand for you to shake. 

“Why the IOU?! What the hell is that good for?...I'm not that kinda-!”

“Don't worry Ms.Prude and Prejudice I'm a serpent not a sleaze. They're not interchangeable. It's just for leverage.” He cuts you off with a pointed look. 

“What kind of leverage, Gangsta's Paradise?” You hiss with crossed arms with your lips tight. 

“Considering you hang out with Cheryl Blossom queen bitch of screwing the Southside over at this school and Veronica Lodge the master manipulator that even lies to her friends forgive me if I don't trust you or your judge of character, L/n.” he says confidently. A smug grin spreading across his face.  

You feel a rebuttal crawl up, but swallowed it just as quickly.

As rudely as he put it, he had a point. For an outsider looking in there's plenty of room for suspicion. 

“Rude, but true. What does my judge of character say about you then, Pea.” You shrug extending your hand to him. 

“Just that even Pep Squad Prima Donnas get lucky...Insanely lucky.” He nods taking your hand in his. 

…

“How long does it take to pick a lock, Sticky Fingers. We're gonna get caught.” You whisper peering out the boys locker room door then back at Sweet Pea finally prying open the last locker. 

“Get your panties out of a wad, Malibu Barbie. That was seven lockers in less than two minutes.” Sweet Pea says tying the cords of five party poppers to the inside of the locker door. 

He takes a step back surveying his handy work. Seven lockers hold a special surprises for the football team, alternating between party poppers and those popper firecrackers. Sweet Pea tilts his head to the side and extends his hand palm up to you. 

“I think, Mantle gets the firecrackers too.” He nods as you hand him the bag. 

“So is this how you tell all the pretty boys you have a crush on them?, or just our beloved team captain.  Reggie should be faltered.” You laugh stuffing a hand full of poppers in your pocket for later. 

“As if, drug selling rich assholes aren't my type, Y/n. This is how you tell Northside shits, no offense, there are consequences to chaining our bikes together in the parking lot without getting suspended at the same time.” He says emptying the entire bag inside before shutting the door tight. 

“None taken. What is your type then, Sweets?” You say shutting a locker or two and heading for the door. 

“Oh just the know it all, stubborn as hell, loudmouth type with the most obnoxious sense of self entailment and the shortest fuse imaginable and most importantly someone who pretends to be a total hard ass but actually is a complete softy. Oh, not to mention they probably think they're absolutely hilarious and are not.” He says shutting the remaining lockers before smiling at you with a self assured grin. 

His dark brown eyes met yours fiercely like he's daring you. 

“You just described yourself, Romeo.” You snort rolling your eyes to the back of your skull and shaking off the creeping gooey feeling in your chest.

In the past couple of weeks this has become your unspoken game. One trying to rattle the other.

“What can I say the heart wants what the heart wants,” Sweet Pea shrugs now standing over you. 

You don't budge. You just bat your eyelashes and place a hand on his forearm. 

“So helping me pass this next quiz is a work of philanthropy and on the house because that's what my heart wants.” You say flashing sly grin up at him. 

“Nice try, Casanova. Not a chance you're buying lunch plus a dessert.” Sweet laughs eyeing your hand as he opens the door.

You snatch your warm brown fingers away and step into the hallway.  It's almost empty save for a couple kids at their lockers. 

As you step out you spot a certain football team captain shutting his locker and eyes landing on you.

Uh oh.  

You skid back into the taller teen behind you as Reggie locks eyes with you from across the hall. His eyes nearly glow red as he makes his way over to the closing locker room. 

“THIS BETTER NOT BE WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!” Reggie shouts glaring over your head at Sweet Pea. 

“DOES IT LOOK LIKE I GIVE A FUCK WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE TO YOU, MANTLE.” The taller teen fires back tugging you behind him. 

“I'M NOT TALKIN TO YOU, SNAKE! N/n, is this bag of dicks bothering you?!?” Reggie's tone softens automatically when addressing you. 

“Reg, I'm fine! Mind your own fucking business!” You scowl trying to push pass Sweet Pea.

“YOU MAKIN MOVES ON N/N IN THE LOCKER ROOM, SNAKE!” Reggie threatens poking Pea's chest. 

“And Even If I was, Mantle! SHE'S A BIG GIRL SHE CAN MAKE HER OWN DECISIONS! WHAT THE HELL YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT!” Sweet Pea growls pushing Reggie back a couple feet. 

“SO YOU ARE SLUMMIN IT WITH THE SERPENTS, NOW, N/N! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK FOR A SECOND YOU'RE GOOD ENOUGH FOR HER!” Reggie spits in absolute outrage before trying to charge the leather clad teen.

Sweet Pea cracks his knuckles and steps up to meet the football player head on. 

This isn't gonna end well.

You roll your e/c eyes. 

Shitheads. They're both complete shitheads. 

As soon Pea moves from caging you behind him you step right between them. 

“One more word, and Weatherbee won't be your biggest problem, Genie!” You glare at the teen in the Letterman. 

All of Reggie's former vibrato fades to worried irritation. 

“You Wouldn't Dare, N/n!” He scoffs. 

Sweet Pea just trades confused glances from one of you to the other. 

“You know I would, Genie. I've got her on speed dial.” You smirk at him with you finger poised to press the call button. 

“You're such a little asshole sometimes.” Reggie says rolling his eyes as he backs away but not before taking fingers to his eyes then pointing them dead at Pea.

You nod heading toward the cafeteria as the bell rings and the hall starts to fill up. 

The tree of a teen doesn't move until someone nearly bumps into him. Sweet Pea catches you by the shoulder causing you to slow your pace to his. 

“How, N/n?” He questions completely baffled and a little impressed. 

"One, only Genie calls me, N/n, Sweet Pea. Two, call it a way with words. Beauty doth soothe the savage beast. He means well he's just an ass." You say shaking your head giving him a look like he should have known better. 

"One, it's music doth soothe the savage beast not beauty. And two, Genie...OH GOD! Is that mouth breather your ex?" Pea fake gags pointing finger down his throat. 

"Oh fuck no, hard pass. Reginald Mantle is my cousin. We used to take baths together and everything."

Sweet Pea's brow wrinkles as he hits you with a confused dark brown gaze before giving an unsure nod. 

"School Spirit, why are you giving me that clueless as hell fa-Oh yea! You're a southsider." You smirk at his confusion starting to make perfect sense. 

He rolls his eyes and gestures to the white turtleneck covered by that dorky RHS polo as if the mandated Southside uniforms weren't a good enough reminder. 

"My Uncle Beau, who's basically my older brother, married his older sister, Frances, before we were out of diapers. We grew up together and when we hit middle school Genie thought I wasn't cool enough to hang with him anymore and started picking on me. Frances found out and we haven't had problems since. Its kinda old news, Poindexter." You shrug handing him a tray.  He dodges as if the plastic is poisonous or something. 

"You're not slick, Princess Morbucks. Even with your failed attempt to bore me to tears with a bullshit northside history lesson, last time I checked we agreed on Pop's and this ain't it." Pea smirks pointing at the double doors out of the cafeteria. 

"You're a real pain." You tossing the plastic trays back on the stack and exiting the caf as he holds the door before following. 

Neither of you notice half the room of southsiders and northsiders alike watching your bazaar interaction. 

Taglist: @dreamsfromanemptyteacup @anninhiliation @consultingkilljoywinchester @thecraziestcrayon @teesimagines @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e

[intransigent-boy]

My Top Ten Films of The Decade.

10. Her

Okay, so whether you like it or not, this movie is about the present. This movie tells a very powerful story with an embarrasingly personal narrative. You feel sorry for the main character, it makes you so uncomfortable. And the reason is, because we are all in some sense are like this guy, Theodore. We have better relationships online, and with our advices, than with real people. It’s a really bizarre conception, but we should face it, and ask ourselves: Where is the limit?  The script is just brilliant, but also has very controversial scenes. Joaquin Phoenix is simply the perfect choice for a lonely man, like Theodore. Melancholy everywhere, and great visuals. Arcade Fire made the music for this, and it was pure melancholy. Very interesting film.

9. The Place Beyond The Pines

Derek Cianfrance is an exceptional director. He can wonderfully create an atmosphere with great lighting techiques, unique musics, and of course with talented actors. This movie has a linear, but quite unusual story-structure. The main theme haunts you after you watched this. Legacy! 

8. Nightcrawler

Louis Bloom is something of a loner who is unemployed and ekes out a living stealing and then reselling copper wire, fencing and most anything else he can get his hands on. When late one night he comes across an accident being filmed by independent news photographer Joe Loder, he thinks he may have found something he would be good at. He acquires an inexpensive video camera and a police scanner and is soon spending his nights racing to accidents, robberies and fire scenes. He develops a working relationship with Nina Romina, news director for a local LA TV station. As the quality of his video footage improves so does his remuneration and he hires Rick, young and unemployed, to work with him. The more successful he becomes however, the more apparent it becomes that Louis will do anything - anything - to get visuals from crime scenes. The conception is just brilliant, and screams to your face, what kind of society are we living in. I think Psychopathy is going to be one of the biggest issue in our generation asides with mental illneses. And this movie reflects perfectly. You understand the character, which is geniusly performed by Jake Gyllenhaal. 

7. Inside Llewyn Davis

The Coen brothers' exquisitely sad and funny new comedy is set in a world of music that somehow combines childlike innocence with an aged and exhausted acceptance of the world. It is a beguilingly studied period piece from America's early-60s Greenwich Village folk scene. Every frame looks like a classic album cover, or at the very least a great inner gatefold – these are screen images that look as if they should have lyrics and sleeve notes superimposed. This film was notably passed over for Oscar nominations. Perhaps there's something in its unfashionable melancholy that didn't hook the attention of Academy award voters. But it is as pungent and powerfully distinctive as a cup of hot black coffee. This movie is about sacrificing everything for your art, directionlessness  (is there such a word?) , and finding the right path. Existential theme, with surpisingly good acting from Oscar Isaac, Adam Driver, and Justin Timberlake. This is an Odyssey-story from the 1960′s America. What more you could ask for? 

6. Dunkirk

Reinventing a genre is quite exceptional. And Nolan did it. The best war movies of the last 20 years, including Saving Private Ryan and Hacksaw Ridge, have also placed viewers in the centre of battle. Nolan has not reinvented that immersive approach, but he comes close to perfecting it. The story structure is-again- brilliant. There’s no main character in the movie-just like in a war-but only  scared people. They want to go home. But they can’t. We’re with them with their struggle, and fears. We’re in the air, land, or water, it’s just a haunting terror.  And the soundtrack from Hans Zimmer is really remarkable. You hear it, and you recognize the movie. That’s what I call a score. Reflects perfectly, and holds the attention throughout the whole movie.

5. Hell or High Water

Another genre-twister masterpiece. This Neo-Western is just pure art. Hell or High Water is a film about a criminal  who commits the ultimate offence of putting his gorgeous and much nicer brother in a ski mask for several minutes of this film. Okay actually it’s about a career criminal brother and his he-wasn’t-but-he-is-now criminal brother who team up to commit a series of small-scale bank robberies across Texas, with the aim, finally – after several generations – of lifting the family out of seemingly inescapable grinding poverty. The part of Texas they live in is dying on its feet so career criminal is pretty much the only career left open that doesn’t involve serving in a diner or herding the few remaining cattle. It would’ve been easy for Hell or High Water to to turn out a cliche-ridden double bromance as there are quite a few movie tropes in this love story / revenge thriller, so it’s a tribute to director David Mackenzie that it’s actually a very touching, at times funny, at times quite brutal story. With a bit of grudge-bearing thrown in at the end to stop it being too redemptive. Memorable scenes, great acting, and a deromanticized western-feeling. After this film, you want to live in Texas, where everything’s slower, but sometimes you can chase criminals. It’s nice, isn’t it? 

4. Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

Martin McDonagh’s fiercely written, stabbingly pleasurable tragicomedy stars a magnificent Frances McDormand; watching it is like having your funny bone struck repeatedly, expertly and very much too hard by a karate super-black-belt capable of bringing a rhino to its knees with a single punch behind the ear. He’s a scriptwriter genius, it was shocking, how perfectly the dialouges and the actions were constructed. It is a film about vengeance, violence and the acceptance of death, combining subtlety and unsubtlety, and moreover wrongfooting you as to what and whom it is centrally about. The drama happens in a town with an insidiously pessimistic name – Ebbing, Missouri, a remote and fictional community in the southern United States, where the joy of life does seem to be receding. There is a recurrent keynote of elegiac sadness established by the Irish ballad The Last Rose of Summer and Townes Van Zandt’s country hit Buckskin Stallion Blues, a musical combination which bridges the Ireland which McDonagh has written about before and the America he conjures up here, an America which has something of the Coen Brothers. The resemblance is not simply down to McDormand, though she does give her best performance since her starring role as the pregnant Minnesota police chief in the Coens’ Fargo in 1996. It was brutal, controversial, and violent. 

3. Midnight in Paris

The definitive poem in English on the subject of cultural nostalgia may be a short verse by Robert Browning called “Memorabilia.” The past seems so much more vivid, more substantial, than the present, and then it evaporates with the cold touch of reality. The good old days are so alluring because we were not around, however much we wish we were. “Midnight in Paris,” Woody Allen’s charming film, imagines what would happen if that wish came true. It is marvelously romantic, even though — or precisely because — it acknowledges the disappointment that shadows every genuine expression of romanticism. The film has the inspired silliness of some of Mr. Allen’s classic comic sketches (most obviously, “A Twenties Memory,” in which the narrator’s nose is repeatedly broken by Ernest Hemingway), spiked with the rueful fatalism that has characterized so much of his later work. Nothing here is exactly new, but why would you expect otherwise in a film so pointedly suspicious of novelty? Very little is stale, either, and Mr. Allen has gracefully evaded the trap built by his grouchy admirers and unkind critics — I’m not alone in fitting both descriptions — who complain when he repeats himself and also when he experiments. Not for the first time, but for the first time in a while, he has found a credible blend of whimsy and wisdom.

2. Beautiful Boy 

This supersensitive and tasteful movie is all but insufferable, suppressing a sob at the tragedy of drug addiction afflicting someone so young and “beautiful”. It is based on what is effectively a matching set of memoirs: Beautiful Boy, by author and journalist David Sheff, his harrowing account of trying to help his son Nic battle crystal meth addiction, and Tweak – by Nic Sheff himself, about these same experiences, the author now, thankfully, eight years clean. Steve Carell does an honest, well-meaning job in the role of David and the egregiously beautiful Timothée Chalamet is earnest in the part of Nic, David’s son from his first marriage. This is like a modern-day Basketball Diaries. Honest, and Raw. Most underrated movie of the 2010′s, with an unquestionably important topic. 

1. The Social Network

Before Sorkin wrote the screenplay, Ben Mezrich wrote the book based on Mark Zuckerberg and the founding of Facebook titled: The Accidental Billionaires: The Founding of Facebook, A Tale of Sex, Money, Genius, and Betrayal. It was published in July 2009, and most of the information came from Facebook “co-founder” Eduardo Saverin, who in the film is played by Andrew Garfield. The screenplay that Sorkin wrote was blazing, he wrote the characters like they were in a William Shakespeare play, with a story full of lies, jealousy, and betrayal. I especially love how Sorkin balanced the story between 2003, 2004, and then 2010. It goes back and forth between the past when Facebook was just an idea for Mark, and in the current day when he is being sued by Cameron & Tyler Winklevoss for, in their minds, having stolen their original idea, and by his former best friend Eduardo for having him pushed out of the company. In fact, some of the very best dialogue (and the film is full of great quotes) happens during the deposition scenes. Well-recognizable, rapid-fire dialouges, wonderful directing, with Trent Reznor’s greatest soundtrack. The movie’s probably going to outlive the Facebook itself, and that’s just great. 

[thankskenpenders]

So there’s this little cartoon you may have heard of...

As I’ve said on this blog before, I’d never watched all of SatAM. This might be shocking to hear from someone who runs a blog dedicated to Archie Sonic and one of the top twenty Bunnie Rabbot fangirls in the world. But it’s true.

SatAM was very difficult to track down compared to other Sonic cartoons when I was a kid, and I just never got around to watching it as an adult. So for the longest time, I had only ever seen the first episode, which I found uploaded in parts on YouTube in 2007. As the one cartoon featuring the characters I liked from the comics, it became sort of this holy grail of Sonic media for me as a kid, especially with people online always talking it up as the best thing ever and petitioning for a revival. Hell, to this day, a lot of people hold it up as this masterpiece and act like the Archie comics were a complete mockery of it

Anyway so I finally got around to watching the whole series with my boyfriend these past couple weeks, and it was pretty good. So instead of covering a comic today, here are some thoughts on the cartoon that started it all

General Thoughts

SatAM is a pretty good show. It isn’t the greatest piece of Sonic media ever, unlike what some older fans will tell you. It might not even be the best Sonic cartoon (you could easily make a case for the Japanese version of Sonic X, or Sonic Boom if you’re looking for something more comedic). It hasn’t aged the most gracefully, in some ways. The animation’s cheap, the stories sometimes bland. But for a DiC-produced video game cartoon from the early ‘90s, it’s really solid

I think that in many ways, SatAM is carried by the strength of its ideas over its actual execution. The darker, more serious tone is a really cool idea, even if at times it can get a little dull, and even if the show actually gets silly as hell pretty often. (This is a show where Snively literally tortures a captive Antoine by preparing French cuisine improperly.) That opening scene of Robotropolis in the first episode actually sets the mood really well and feels like it came straight out of some cyberpunk anime from the ‘80s or ‘90s. The concept of Robotnik turning people into robot slaves is really cool, even if surprisingly little was done with this aside from Uncle Chuck’s storyline. And I think the Freedom Fighters make a great supporting cast for Sonic, even if the writers didn’t use them to their full potential

Interestingly, I’d often heard from fans that season one was the stronger of the two, when I’d say that the opposite is true. Season one episodes were pretty samey, usually involving low stakes missions to Robotropolis with no real continuity, and Sally ended up being a damsel in distress more than I’d like--hell, so did Bunnie in a few episodes. It wasn’t bad, but it was highly repetitive, and I got a little bored at times. Season two had a few real stinkers (the Antoine episodes) and Dulcy was an unwelcome addition, but I thought the heavier focus on continuity gave the season some real momentum and more emotional weight, which made it way more enjoyable overall

Things I Liked

Sonic. I quite liked this version of Sonic, actually! Jaleel White is a great Sonic, and he was written pretty well. At times the extremely tubular ‘90s lingo was grating (I never wanna hear “Gotta juice!” again), but I was surprised to see that this version of Sonic had a lot of heart. He really cared about the well-being of his friends and Uncle Chuck, and they even let him cry a couple times. I thought they struck a good balance between snark and sincerity with him

Sally. I don’t think SatAM Sally was perfect, but I liked her. I’m still of the opinion that she should have been given more ways to defend herself physically (maybe some kind of power of her own) so that Sonic didn’t have to save her as much, but I liked the banter she and Sonic had. Unlike the early Archie comics, Sally doesn’t come off as the bossy girlfriend who ruins Sonic’s fun. Maybe it’s Jaleel White and Kath Soucie’s performances doing most of the work, but they had a fun back and forth dynamic, with Sally’s sarcasm keeping Sonic’s ego in check, but there still being clear chemistry between the two of them

I also liked the greatly reduced emphasis on her being a princess compared to much of Archie’s material. Like yeah, it’s there. Her dad’s the king, and left her some classified info via Nicole. But her status doesn’t really affect things much. They don’t talk about her having this grand destiny and being the next in line to rule. It’s clear that she’s in charge of the Freedom Fighters not because of her status, but because she’s smart, brave, and gets shit done. That’s the Sally I like.

Plus! In the finale, Sally insisted upon going with Sonic for the final confrontation, and was a crucial part of the climax. Her powering up with Sonic and matching his speed and strength ruled. Compare that to the climactic defeat of Robotnik in Archie, where she was fucking dead

Robotnik. I don’t think much needs to be said here. Jim Cummings rules as Robotnik, like everyone has always said. He’s just so evil and so much fun to watch

Snively??? I’ve never cared for Snively as a character, but Charlie Adler rules and his over-the-top performance made the character way funnier than he should’ve been. Just something about all the little noises he makes, and the way he almost shifts into the Red Guy voice at times

Nicole. It was fun to see Nicole start to get more of a personality in season two, having some banter with Sonic and also picking up some slang from him. It makes the later decision to turn Sally’s computer into a full character (which would have happened in season three, and obviously eventually became a big subplot in the comics) make a lot of sense

King Acorn. While he was only around briefly, I liked that he wasn’t a huge dick, unlike Archie’s King Max

Things I Didn’t Like

The misuse of the other Freedom Fighters. This is, by far, the show’s greatest crime.

I already write approximately 100k words a week on this blog about how I think Bunnie Rabbot is amazing and criminally underused, so I’ll keep this brief, but I was shocked to see how little she was used in this show. People tend to say Dulcy stole her screentime in season two, but she didn’t have much to do in the first season either! We somehow never got a single episode focusing on her. The one where she got temporarily deroboticized focused much more on Uncle Chuck. We never got to learn the story behind her roboticization, or delved into her feelings on the matter much. She mostly just served as a positive, lighthearted supporting member of the team who acts cute and gets some funny lines, but usually stays home

Antoine might have been even worse, honestly. Like, they used him so much! They had multiple episodes focusing entirely on him! And yet I’m not sure he ever really helped. Sonic and Sally kept taking him along, but every single time it felt like it would’ve been a wiser decision to bring Bunnie instead. The jokes about his broken English were just dumb, and god, the way he constantly hits on Sally and starts kissing her hand at the most inappropriate times is just SO fucking creepy. SatAM Antoine is just a horrible, one-dimensional stereotype. There’s a reason why readers of the Archie comics wanted him out of the series until later writers majorly rehabilitated him

Rotor also didn’t get much use, which was a shame, but it at least felt like he was used efficiently. I got the vibe that Rotor was much more bitter about the war with Robotnik than his friends, and it would’ve been interesting to see this explored more. At least we got that one fun episode where he went to space with Sonic

Dulcy. Oh my fucking god. I wanted to like Dulcy! I really did! But most of the time she was just a clutz used for comic relief, and they kept reusing the same joke where she crashed, bumped her head, got dizzy, and thought she was talking to her mom. This happened in almost every episode she was in.

The other miscellaneous Freedom Fighters. Like in the early Archie comics, none of the other miscellaneous Mobians they meet were as interesting as the core cast. They just always felt very bland and I was never as invested in them as the writers wanted me to be. Ari was boring, and that episode where they found the underground city and this other dude started hitting on Sally was a drag. Lupe’s cute though

Rings. This is a common problem in Sonic adaptations, but the fact that rings always serve as Sonic’s instant win button kind of sucks. Basically any time Sonic’s in a pinch, he pulls a ring out of his backpack, powers up, and wins. Not exactly a recipe for suspenseful action

Oh, also, I did kinda find it weird how much Sonic and Sally kissed? Like, all the time? Often while their friends just stand there and stare at them? Not something I’d expect from a Sonic cartoon

Things Archie Did Better

I’ll limit this to the first 50 issues or so, since I don’t think it would be fair to compare two short seasons of SatAM to the highlights of nearly 500 issues of comics

Tails. Tails is okay in SatAM, Archie just used him as Sonic’s sidekick way more. He was barely even in the show. Poor little guy only gets to play dirt hockey all day

Bunnie. Again, Bunnie was underutilized in both series, but the Archie comics did her better. They actually showed the story of how she got roboticized (even if it was a silly story), and they got to flesh her out a bit more. Gallagher showing that she was a carrot farmer before her roboticization and saying she wanted to be a hairdresser was at least something. And as I keep harping on, Rich Koslowski’s backup story in #37 where we find out Bunnie has recurring nightmares about her robot parts taking over and making her a threat to her friends? This single backup story did more to flesh her out than all 26 episodes of SatAM combined

Antoine. Not hard to do better than SatAM here, really. He was really bad early on, serving as little more than Sonic’s punching bag, but eventually they started to set up a romance between him and Bunnie and explored his past a bit, saying that Antoine’s father (his personal role model) was a member of the royal guard who was roboticized in the war. While he still had a long way to go, these were important first steps towards him being a decent character. Hell, these days, being Bunnie’s love interest is one of Antoine’s defining characteristics! And it doesn’t come from the cartoon at all

Roboticization in general. I was surprised how little this came up in the cartoon! In the comics, it’s such a central element. We see more of the heroes’ loved ones turned into robots, and we even got some fun stories where characters like Sonic and Sally were roboticized temporarily. The Freedom Fighters’ efforts to reverse the process was a major part of the plot for quite a while. Bunnie’s fear of losing control is a pretty important part of her character (even if it was only touched on briefly), and after they’re rescued, the rest of the Mobians fear that the “Robians” (including Sonic’s entire family) will turn evil again. It comes up a lot! There are interesting things to discuss here! But SatAM only really talks about Uncle Chuck. We never even see what happened to everyone else

Closing Thoughts

SatAM is not the best show in the world, but it is a solid and enjoyable one. It’s easy to see why people who grew up with it are fond of it, even if I think that it’s long past time certain fans quit acting like it’s the only valid take on the Sonic source material and petitioning for a third season. At the very least, the concepts and characters introduced here are strong ones, and it’s easy to see how they spawned over 20 years of comics exploring said ideas in greater detail. While I’m not sure I could recommend it to non-fans, I think it’s definitely worth checking out for Sonic fans who missed out on it (especially fans of the Archie comics)

Anyway I got to see Bunnie dropkick some Swatbots twice her height so I had fun

[stolethekey]

2019 creator year-in-review tag

i spent half an hour writing this post out on my phone and then the tumblr app crashed and it all got lost so i am currently typing this on my laptop with annoyance coursing through my veins and hate in my heart but anyway here we go

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2019. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

i was tagged by the inimitable @johnny-and-dora, whom i got to know this year through a happy fic exchange accident!1! i’ve been in a bit of a creative rut recently, so maybe this’ll be a good reminder of the things i’ve done that i’m proud of. 2019 was also the first full year during which i was writing fic, so most of my work is up for grabs. that means i am basically picking favorites from all my children and – let me tell you – this was shockingly easy.

anyway here we go! i’m putting these under the break so that if you don’t care you can just skip this post. no judgement.

in no particular order:

- it’s been a long, long time (MCU): my first ever fic (and also my first and only completed multichap), this one is always going to hold a special place in my heart. i can’t read the first few chapters without physically cringing and hating myself but i love the last couple chapters, and i think that’s indicative of the leaps and bounds my writing skills made throughout the course of the year it took me to finish this fic. i’d wanted to work on my fiction prose for a long, long time (ha), and i just never got the courage or motivation to do it. this fic was my leap into the world of writing fiction, and my writing ability is better for it. long, long time was also my introduction to the online mcu fandom, thereby making it my introduction to a world of friends and art that i didn’t know i was missing. also, angst.

- we could be a beautiful miracle, unbelievable (B99):  this fic was a happy accident that i wrote as a last-minute pinch-hit for someone who couldn’t finish their part of a fic exchange, and i am so glad i did it. i am obsessed with sickfics and sian’s prompt gave me the push i needed to finally write one myself. pining!peraltiago is the best peraltiago and i feel like writing this one made me immensely more comfortable with capturing their characters through both narration and dialogue. and i feel like that comes through in:

- i close my eyes, let it surround me (B99):  the sickfic sequel my heart belongs to. thank you to everyone who asked for a sickfic sequel, because i probably wouldn’t have done it otherwise and wow do i love this one. pretty wild how the flu can open up so many possibilities. it seems like fic exchanges are where my peraltiago fics rise. and also maybe i am very single and i like to use them to fill my soul. shut up.

- come back and tell me why i’m feeling like i’ve missed you all this time (MCU): i just LOVE the concept for this, which came from @beatingsofabesottedheart2. this was my first attempt at romanogers fluff (it came very late i am a slut for angst) and i am surprisingly still very proud of the way it turned out. i think i struck a good balance between largely meaningless fluff and the undertone of pain and hurt that underlie both of their backstories, and the way that informs the ways they live their lives today (both individually and together).

- i’ve learned in love and death, we don’t decide (MCU): this title is from lost by dermot kennedy, which singlehandedly inspired almost all of my post-endgame fic. i think this is the most emotion i have ever funneled into a piece of my writing, and i think it shows – not in the quality, necessarily, but in the sheer angst the second chapter contains. i actually wrote almost all of the first part before endgame even came out, basing it solely on one (1) clip of the trailer and my predictions, but the second chapter is maybe one of my favorite things i have ever written.

i wrote this in a comment reply on a different fic but there is something so beautifully heartbreaking about missed opportunity and lost hope and being too late. the romanogers story is a story of what it’s like to be so close, but lose everything anyway, and how sometimes having a little is harder than having nothing at all. spun a certain way, it’s a tale of two people who have always managed to find a way out not being able to find a way to each other. and that informs so much of what i write, even when i’m just filling in the negative space.

-

anyway, that’s my 2019 wrap-up! if you’ve read this far, thank you for indulging me. a big thank you, also, to each and every one of you who’s read one of my fics, left kudos or comments, and interacted with me on tumblr.

a special shoutout to those of you that commented or sent me asks – it is not an exaggeration to say that you are my single largest motivator. like, yes, i do love writing for myself, but this year has also seen me apply to law school and write an honors thesis, so i’m always a little tired of staring at words in an word doc. your comments asking for more are not thirsty or demanding; in fact, they are sometimes the only things that keep me writing. if you talk about things you liked (or even loved), that’s a sweet bonus that boosts my mood more than you would think possible. so thank you, thank you, thank you.

gonna tag some creators i love and respect now! @natasharomanoff, @whoisyennefer, @vivilevone and @ofbuttsandbombs: ball’s in your court. (i haven’t been on tumblr in a while, so if you’ve already done this just ignore me.)

also, if you’d like to do this and no one’s tagged you, just do it and say i tagged you!! i want to see what you’re proud of. we could all use a little more self-love. i will also add your url to the above tagged list so that, technically, i did tag you.

happy new year, everyone! thanks for everything.

[sunshineandfangs]

Klarosummer - Peach Festival || Waya Owenasa

@klarosummerbingo

I’ve aged up Caroline a few years to make it fit the timeline I wanted, so she’s now born Oct. 10, 1985. Her life is quite different from canon so in the grand scheme of what I’ve changed it doesn’t matter much. Also Bingo again Iol.

She had been nine when she killed for the first time. Following after her friend who followed after a man promising the ripest, sweetest peaches. His flesh had been sweet and hot between her teeth, strangely delicate as blood coated her throat and tongue.

She had been nine when her wolf awakened, three whole months short of the youngest age to survive triggering. And his wolf had been weak. The son of an un-triggered father and human mother, born of one of the more diluted bloodlines. And still he nearly died that first year.

But her wolf had been a wild thing in her chest, from the moment the man’s heart stilled, the last feeble pump of blood against her lips, she could feel her beast in her chest. Already clawing for freedom, howling with want to run and hunt. A descendant of a triggered alpha and in turn a member of one of the original seven bloodlines.

Caroline should have died, torn apart by her very nature.

---

Caroline snagged one of the ripe Georgian peaches from a crate, tracing its soft, fuzzy skin. The fruit had just the right amount of give and she knew it would be bursting with flavor. Taking a bite, the flesh was indeed sweet and juicy on her tongue, a bit warm with the summer sun.

Chewing and swallowing, Caroline continued to nibble on her peach as she weaved among the crowds of humans, just another face in a sea of them, no one paying her any attention.

Something within her gave a little twinge, as she marveled that these oblivious humans had pack when she didn’t. Marveled as she did every year passing through the festival, pretending she was always there because she liked peaches and not because she was remembering.

Her ear twitched, her sensitive hearing catching the tail end of frantic whispers.

“-The Hybrid, he’s hunting wolves.”

“It seems he’s been prowling along the east coast. Be careful.”

The Hybrid, huh?

Chucking the pit of her finished peach into the nearest bin, Caroline almost laughed. She well remembered the shock the more well-informed of the supernatural world all felt when The Klaus was apparently both a wolf and a vamp. As if he hadn’t been terrifying enough to most. Remembered how she felt more hope than fear even as she admonished herself for foolish dreams.

---

Because see, she hadn’t died, then. Back when she was nine on the cusp of ten.

Instead, her father had hunted down a dark talisman to drain her wolf of strength, the poor creature too weak to shift her form when the full moon came calling each month. And on her tenth birthday her father attempted to unbind the artifact from her, only to discover her wolf had devoured that which made it weak. Claiming its power for her own.

Her birthday gift that year was five flatlines, she and her wolf at war as they tried to gain dominance over the other. And in a compromise to survive they found an uneasy middle ground, power absorbed and transferred from wolf to girl as she grew older, struggling to balance her two natures.

---

But it wasn’t a perfect solution.

Her wolf grew too rapidly in strength, attempting to overcome the drain as the girl turned woman was flooded with feral power, sometimes feeling more lupine than human even as she walked on two legs not four.

The witches called her an abomination. So did the wolves, the handful she encountered. Vampires, she avoided and the few she had met either left her presence oblivious or dead from her envenomed fangs.

And now she was dying, some fifteen or so years late perhaps. Her mortality making her body too weak to keep up.

So, if the newfound Hybrid was hunting for wolves...

Well, then she intended to hunt for him.

---

Caroline swallowed a scream of frustration, her naked and dirt streaked body surrounded by corpses. 

Once again she had been too late, having been a step behind the Hybrid ever since the peach festival two months ago. She had been so close this time too, maybe only hours behind, when the full moon caught up to her.

She and her wolf may be far more in sync than most, but not even she could negotiate like that. The whole lack of verbal speech a bit of a problem.

Although, she thought looking around at the camp of dead werewolves, perhaps it’s better I never managed to catch up.

Caroline walked over to the nearest body, knelt down in the dirt to examine their pained expression. Eyes red and bulging, congealed blood cooled in thick trails from their eyes, nose, and mouth. Clearly, something had gone wrong. Instead of turning as Klaus must have hoped they died instead. Quite horribly from what she could see.

She pursed her lips in thought before she turned to stalk back toward her stowed car. Plans being formed and discarded as she walked. She would find Klaus, but hanging back until surviving the transition was ensured certainly wouldn’t hurt.

Surviving Klaus would be another matter of course.

---

Caroline bit her lip even as she internally scolded herself for the tell, nervous despite herself as she stared at the perfectly normal front door.

It had taken Klaus a week to work out how to successfully turn wolves. Frankly, impressive even by Caroline’s high standards. His first triumph though was that Lockwood boy, an infant of a wolf. So, she had hung back until she witnessed a few more successful turnings. Watched as wolves of all ages rose from death with new fangs.

Now, she was standing on Klaus’ doorstep, certainly not a thing she had ever expected to do, gathering her courage to ring the doorbell. But she had a feeling he knew she was there and she refused to show anymore weakness. 

Her finger jabbed the little white button, muffled but cheery chimes echoing from beyond the door.

A moment passed. Two. And then a rush of displaced air sounded in the silence.

The door opened.

A tall brunet stood in the entryway, one of Klaus’ earlier made hybrids. With his brown hair and eyes, he was neither particularly attractive nor particularly intimidating.

She stared directly into his eyes, her chin lifted.

“I wish to speak with Klaus.”  

He glowered at her.

“Who do you think you are? To demand an audience with-”

His growls were cut off as they both heard a voice sound from somewhere deeper in the house.

“Let her in, Tony.”

Caroline raised a pointed eyebrow, gracefully stepping past Tony’s form when he barely shifted in place. She could feel him right behind her, though she paid him no mind as she wandered in the direction the voice had sounded.

Eventually she came to her destination, the space open concept and a blend of sitting room, dining room, and kitchen. Her eyes immediately settled on the man who had to be Klaus, as even casually sprawled in a chair his form radiated power.

He didn’t look up as she entered, seeming to be contemplating a glass of bourbon, though he obviously knew she was there.

“You may go, Tony,” he dismissed, taking a sip of his drink after he spoke. It took a few more swallows for him to finish the glass, all the while refusing to acknowledge her.

It left both the woman and the wolf bristling, on the precipice of snapping out something likely unwise. Right before she could snarl though, the man looked up, setting his glass on the table beside him as he contemplated her instead.

“You’re either very brave or very stupid, little wolf.” He rose from his seat then, his steps slow and predatory as he shortened the distance between them. “I find myself rather curious that you have sought me out. The rumors tend to send your kind running not straight to my door.”

Klaus struck a far more attractive and intimidating figure than Tony, but Caroline met his gaze all the same. She refused to submit so easily.

Instead, she gave a casual roll of her shoulders, shrugging as if she had not a care in the world. “I can’t speak for other wolves. They don’t tend to like me much, really.” 

And then she decided to be blunt. The worst he was likely to do to some no-name wolf was kill her, which meant nothing seeing as she was a dead woman walking. 

A dead woman walking with nothing to lose. Her human mother loved her in her own way, but didn’t know what to do with her. Her father was long dead, having gotten in over his head while he tried to hunt down increasingly esoteric solutions to her problem. And no friends to speak of.

“I’m dying, Klaus,” she said, “and what limited accelerated healing I have is not enough.” She continued to stare him dead in the eye, letting him read her sincerity. “I don’t want to die.”

---

Klaus silently regarded the odd blonde wolf in front of him. Her claims were certainly curious, but a bit suspicious too. What wolf landed in his lap, all but begging him to turn her?

He continued to stare at her as he thought, a bit impressed when she simply stood impassive, refusing to squirm or fidget. And then, he came to a decision, saying nothing as he stepped behind her. She tensed, but didn’t turn to face him, recognizing it as the test it was.

It would be a shame to let such daring, loveliness simply die, supposing her story was true. And if it wasn’t, if it was some plot, then she would be bound to him and susceptible to his compulsion.

His fangs descended as he bit into his forearm with a wet crunch, filling the air with the scent of his magic-seeped blood. He wrapped an arm around the she-wolf’s waist, pulling her back against him as he set the rapidly closing wound against her lips.

She drank, almost kittenish licks turning to greedy, gulping mouthfuls. And he smirked in response, delighted by her bloodthirst.

He had a feeling he might like this one.

Crack

Her neck snapped and she slumped against him, his fingers petting where he had gripped her jaw. Shifting over to place her body on the settee, he brushed a strand of blonde hair from her face. He grinned down at her temporarily dead form, something wild and feral glinting in his gold-ringed eyes.

Welcome to eternity, little wolf.

---

Author’s Note: Title means “Wolf Home” in Cherokee as that’s supposedly where Inadu came from. I took the phonetic spelling/sound from Cherokee.org which has a lexicon by word translation. The actual script is apparently something like this: ᏩᏯ ᎣᏪᏅᏒ. Also fyi, since I had the rest of canon occur at the same time, only Caroline born earlier she’s 24 in this story.