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bedlamgames · 4 years

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Q&A #103

Today we have the Twine conversion, lesbian training mantras, social lube, a bunch of random stuff from the discord, and a whole lot more.

[Anonymous said]: I'm really curious what the tally means for your twine conversion posts. Can't seem to figure out what its suppose to represent progress wise...

- Answered this last Q&A. Because of you asking I’ve now also added the explanation to what it’s about to every stream post so I hope that helped with understanding what’s going on with that.

[Anonymous said]: Suggestion: For races that start with a random corruption (ie: Succubi), have an option in full custom to spend points to either narrow what that corruption is (to be one of the four types, for example) or to outright pick one (for a much higher cost).

- That’s a good idea. Being able to pick specifically I think would be too much. There are ALOT of corruptions so that would mean many many menus to be able to select everything. Being able to pick one of the four types seems fair to me as something to spend points on in Full Custom. Added it to my notes.

[Anonymous said]: Have a succubus slaver who used to be a lamia. On level up, she had the option to get the Fleet trait, which I thought was off-limits for Lamia due to their body shape. I think it's a bug?

- Good spot and should be fixed as of the last update.

[Anonymous said]: Noticed a bug with No Haven 0.903: If you select a human (or once-human) for your character, and then quick restart, your next character will keep the human's Racial aspect Social Lube. On the topic of that Racial, it says " includes one human, and three other different races/subtypes gain an additional Success" Does that mean one human and three non-humans, or one human and three slavers each of a different race from each other?

-Took me awhile to work this out as going from human to human seemed fine. However you’re right that those with a heritage like demi-angels or succubi will incorrectly keep the previous racial.

The second so as long as you have at least one human you can get the buff by say having a northerner, noble, wastelander, and convent.

[Anonymous said]: hi bud, xfto/x421 here, its been a long time i guess. wanted to ask about the status of the no haven/twine conversation. i joined your picardo lately but couldnt post some reports since you dont allow guest-posts. well anyway, the report is about something ridiculous i have found after some restarts, the chosen main charakter (lamia) starts as male with the hard carry aspect(immense shaft) and different description than the ones the perks would give. 1/2

another question, feels like i asked something similiar in the past, how about the integration of different artpacks/access to older pics, or deletion of those that never get used? i guess that would requiere some more access to the game than you allow atm. maybe with twine? do you have a roadmap on tfgames or somewhere for the future of no haven? i know there are some more races you want to implement and improve some systems, but thats it, hope you are doing well in these times. 2/2

I do an update on the patreon every two weeks which is linked on the twitter. You do not need to be a patron to read these and is the best way to stay informed about what I’ve been up to. That includes the status of the conversion. To quickly sum it up;

It's at a stage where all the RAGS to Twine code conversion is basically done. What I need to do now is translate all that work into something playable and there's currently big logic issues with a bunch of the conditions and passages. So what I'm currently doing is trying to tidy up the visual look of the code with a bunch of idents with the theory that will make finding the errors easier.

Alas it’s not me disallowing guest posts... Picarto had some massive stonking issues and so they locked things down hard due to that preventing guests from chatting. I suggest a throwaway email site to get around that.

I don’t think there’s any art in the game file that’s not used as I try to keep on top of deleting the old ones. Not really down for doing art packs of the old ones as due to that not being my art so I see them as placeholder only until they can be replaced by commissions.

I probably do need to do some kind of roadmap sometime. I’m less keen as it’s kind of a dirty word these days as due to the miss-use of them by others it’s got some bad connontations, but I’m also aware the alternative which is me randomly mentioning stuff on discord/picarto streams leaves the vast majority of my audience in the dark which is also really not ideal.

[Anonymous said]: [no haven 0.903] [Crit no longer grants Bimboborn] okay, but how do I get bimboborn now?

- It’s a corruption. Specifically Blessings of Perversion.

[Anonymous said]: With the change to training where hypnotic slavers can fully embed the relevant mantras for blowjob, bimbo, and sissy training, could we also get that for lesbian training?

- Yes that’s the plan when I do the third part of lesbian training. Got a set of commissions planned just got to sort the funding and work out who I’m getting to do it.

[Anonymous said]: hey bud, x421 here, again, might be already fixed because thats from no haven .903, but i recently had the witch queen super rare quest, you might want to proof read the quest and results, there are a few typos. i really did enjoy the writing nonetheless, just a quick question about that quest, as far as i understood this one, you only change your odds of the final result depending on how good you do on your way to the final, but the reward in the end only depends on the final result? 1/2

2/2 it just dawned on me that its been a while since you made an Q&A post so i guess i ll go and lurk on the tfgames forum in the next days, just one last question: i asked early in development about camp upgrades and you were not that convinced about that stuff, i understand you want the slaver camp as some bandit camp and not some castle/bastion or whatever, but since you added camp upgrades, maybe add proximity to a certain region? or something to spend supplies and gold in a 13month+ run?

- Hah! Okay will give it another read through.That’s correct yes. There’s also rewards on the way if you Critical those parts.

There is a new gold sink coming soon in an upcoming update. I’ve also got plans for more camp upgrades coming later.

[From the Patreon]: I'm that guy you replied to about the patch notes in Q&A 101. Solid updates. Bugs in the outfit system has driven me nuts since like, 2015, has it been that long already? I think it has. I like collecting them and something always blows up. This time, I ended up with a slaver wearing both the ooze outfit and ponygirl outfit. So there's that. Also I was disappointed the new Quicker then You'd Like wasn't interactive. Solid in any case though, thanks!

- I'll get them all one day I swear! Don't suppose you remember the chain of events that led to that? New QAYL was a patron requested one with the idea of having a big pay off for playing submissive which often involves playing sub-optimally.

[From the Patreon]: 1-ive been noticing when you choose to repick choices for an slave training assignment the slave gets added to the list of choices 2-also just how rare is the post-slave princess city assignment, cause i can never seem to get it even after selling multiple slave princesses 3-another thing is that the nightly puppet-leader stat is almost impossible to get again(either that or i have bedwarmers incapable of usurping me even thought i my current stats mean i couldnt win against even the subbiest slave)

- Will check 3 as you've not been the only person to mention that. 2 I know exists for sure as other people have definitely got it. Should be no rarer than any other rare City assignment, and thanks for the spot on 1.

[From the Discord]: Top 3 Animes of the 2010 to 2020

Mahou Shoujo Madoka★Magica the series was staggeringly good. Just redefined what anime could be to me. Film is a... well it was a thing. A beautiful thing with an ending which I still quite know how to feel about.

Shirobako. It’s about creativity, craft, and about how people can come together to make something. It might not be something good, but dangit it’s been made and that’s worthwhile. It’s also from personal experience by miles the most accurate depiction of working in an office I’ve ever seen.

Oh man this is very very hard deciding on the third so pick one of the following and I could probably make a strong case for it.

Kobayashi-san Chi no Maid Dragon, Darling in the FranXX (yes really, yes even the ending), Lupin III: Part 5, Kill la Kill, Monster Musume, Flip Flappers, Demi-chan wa Kataritai, Zombieland Saga, or Kaguya-sama wa Kokurasetai.

Also while I was taking the question to mean series both Your Name and Promare are absolutely phenonemal films.

[From the Discord]: Best recent Eurovision Act

Lena. Always Lena.

[From the Discord]: What's the agricultural technological level of No Haven like

It’s not hit industrialization yet. What makes the difference is and allows cities like Aversol and even bigger to exist is that the organization of the human empire is far better than it has any right to be for the other levels of development being able to keep an incredibly complex supply chain constantly flowing even if on the ground level it barely seems to be moving at all. There are also some much, much larger farms both on the Great Plains and further to the north compared to the much more isolated single/couple of households ones that your slavers raid.

[From the Discord]: What have been some of your all-time favourite assignments, both in terms of working on them and how they turned out?

Love When Week’s End Comes for a recent one. Writing all the results in colour commentary (and all the variations for weather, events and outcomes) was a real challenge and I do like how it came out.

Witch-Queen and Arisin’ for being the first times I tried to go for a different, more potentially disturbing/freaky mood, and I’m pleased with the results.

Sable Masquerade as I really like the ‘bad end’ I came up with. Actually I like the whole thing as while the pitch from the patron obviously helped, a lot of it was inspired by a random superhero bondage party picture I saw on HF, which I decided to run with, and had a bunch of fun exploring.

[From the Discord]: Weirdest bug and most difficult bug

The one that resulted in a male wisp riding a griffon was a fun one.

Most difficult has to be the clothing management which as a previous question suggests I’ve still not entirely solved.

[From the Discord]: If No Haven was an MMO, what race/class would you play?

Kreen rogue mainly as I really like the edit I did for the portrait which MidnightonMars later translated into a commission.

If not definitely a lamia.

[From the Discord]: Knowing what you do now about the design of the game, are there any game mechanics you wish you'd have implemented differently?

Clothing management. So very much clothing management. I’ve redone it entirely twice now, and it’s still not where I want it to be.

[From the Discord]: What was your inspiration for creating the setting of No Haven? Has the direction the game has gone varied from your initial idea? If so what has been the biggest change?

- It started off with adapting the chan game Deeper Dungeons which was basically a certain popular mmo with nothing different about it outside of it being porn along with some possibly unwise options of personal abuse. I first changed it by ditching gnomes for neko which to my mind was a clear upgrade. There even used to be an examine refference in the RAGS version to suggest they’d been in the region of the dungeons before being driven out.

Then it was a gradual process of adding with the occasional subtractions to get it closer to a more Warhammer feeling setting which has always been a major love of mine when I was still doing Whorelock’s in RAGS.

With No Haven it was a case of building on what I’ve done there and expanding upon that with the race lore and assignment descriptions. Biggest was probably when I did the favoured/unfavoured stuff and added a ton of extra backstory to various races to justify the choices made there.

#Q&A

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pigballoon · 5 years

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Terminator: Dark Fate

(Tim Miller, 2019)

The latest instalment in the by now ailing Terminator franchise is... I mean, it's probably the most solid of the films since James Cameron surrendered the crown, granted that is really, really (really!) not saying much, but while it lacks the invention to go in a whole new direction like Terminator Salvation a decade ago, or the killer finale of 2003's Rise of the Machines, it seems to me a more entertaining, less off putting movie than any of these other sequels have proved to be... Or maybe the standards and expectations have just fallen so low that it's easier to accept now almost 30 years since this franchise last mattered.

What it does have going for it is the reunion of the key pairing from Cameron's duology, Arnold Schwarzenegger and LInda Hamilton, the history between them adding a little (just a little) bit of historic weight to the whole thing, their history together lending the movie a shade of moral complexity it isn't getting from anywhere else. Hamilton in particular finally gets the follow up to Judgement Day that the character deserves, and she plays the hell out of it, the naive innocent, turned hardened warrior (briefly glimpsed in an admittedly great opening sequence), now world weary, tortured nomad.

Still, the movie really belongs to Mackenzie Davis, finally with a movie role worthy of the star anyone that spent 3 seasons watching Halt and Catch Fire knew was there all along. She does bad ass laced with a little very human vulnerability so well, and is a natural fit into this world. Alongside her is Natalia Reyes, whose growth across the course of the movie is seamlessly executed, akin to Hamilton's in the original movie, but probably... even better? She's super assured in the beginning so you can see the seeds of what is to come, wears tragedy so meaningfully in the middle, and her fiery blossoming really works, she makes it work, whether the arc as written is convincing or not could be debated, but there's no lie in anything she does.

They are what make the movie work to whatever degree it does. There's no major set piece of any real note, there are some strange logic defying goings on peppered here and there, and perhaps most disappointing of all is the fact that Dark Fate suffers that same dark, dark fate that so many so called sequels of recent days do, and that is that instead of daring to try anything new it just recreates the template established by its beloved predecessors, assassin comes back in time, defender comes back in time, chase ensues, etc. Now that itself is nothing especially new to the franchise, even Cameron's much beloved Terminator II copied that trick, but in doing so it added on other angles, there was more to it.

Here the retreading is wholly unsatisfying given that this film also replicates the trick of Bryan Singer's Superman Returns or done a couple of times in the Halloween franchise in that it wipes the slate clean of all the deemed to be unworthy sequels and stitches this latest unsatisfactory effort to the ones deemed worthy of remaining canon. Therefore it is a film that exists in a universe where the future was saved, and so to just pick the reins back up and tell the same story again without going anywhere new with it, adding any interesting angle to the story (this was the one good thing Rise of the Machines captured brilliantly - the tragedy of inevitability) this movie doesn't do any of that, it just quickly accepts that nothing will ever change and goes on running through the same old maze again.

For that reason, however watchable the whole thing might be (and I really do think it is, as much as anything the comedic stuff in here really lands) it remains a major disappointment, another unsatisfactory sequel, regardless of the names involved in front and behind the camera, because it's just following the same old beats like a machine, lacking the ability to grow that even its own featured machines from the future display. It does so I suppose because it's finale suggests that it'll be back, and that's one more slight against it. Open endings that are not open for any narrative or thematic reason, that leave films feeling incomplete just so they can bait you with another sequel. It's the worst of franchise filmmaking in that way, testament to the way movies are becoming more like television in an age where television is aiming more and more for the cinematic. Hasta la vista, I guess.

#terminator: dark fate #terminator #dark fate #the terminator #tim miller #arnold schwarzenegger #linda hamilton #mackenzie davis #natalia reyes #2019 #reviews #film #films #movie #movies #scifi #sci fi #sci-fi #science fiction

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thetaylorfiles · 5 years

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🧘‍♀️1/ It was an Entertainment Weekly interview. To keep this 'short' I'll share a few quotes: "I think the best messages are cryptic ones", "easter eggs can be left on clothing/jewelry", "I planned this two years in advance!" Let's say that KK is important enough to her music(*muse*ic, if you will) that she is important enough to have deep easter eggs attributed to her. Deep enough they are admittedly planned years in advance. I like to keep in mind TS started as a teen country singer.

🧘‍♀️2/ It's not a stretch to assume she was 'forced' to closet,beard & portray a wholesome, straight, blonde, all-American, girl-next-door. I think she has found some freedom in communicating through secret messages - some easy to decipher, & some extremely complex - this is Taylor Swift after all. KK may get paid to wear clothes, but it's not the least bit peculiar to you that TS wears it after, or is photographed in a shoot using the same purse, or wears complimentary clothes...

🧘‍♀️ 3/ (the black shirt w/eyelashes vs the white one) etc. Now, for their friendship. For me, if I put myself in the theoretical TS shoes I've created, I would also hide my true lover if I hadn't come out yet, and planned to on my own terms. If the friendship created such speculation that it takes away from her owning the moment herself, I would cut it out too. Also, I did just want to let you know, I do much more 'research' than just TTB 😊

——-

Hi again. What is your emoji? It looks like a girl toddler sitting down but I know it can’t be! Hahah! Is it just a girl sitting cross cross?

Yay for your own research besides TTB. I’m so glad to hear it. And also, feel free to send as long a message as you want. Do it as a submission. It’s easier that way.

Thanks for the quote from T. I have a shitty memory sometimes. I was wrong, so forgive me in not remembering. She did clearly say she uses clothes and jewelry to leave Easter eggs on. Now, I don’t know which eyelashes garments you’re referring to specifically, so if you could refresh my memory, I’d appreciate it.

But as to the other garments that seem to match or be similar, I don’t mean to be argumentative but I truly don’t see patterns. Yes, when they were friends I think they swapped clothing with one another. But now, I think they’re being put in clothing by stylists who are choosing from what’s extremely on trend at the moment. Taylor’s not shopping for herself. That’s out of the question with her celebrity. She has racks of clothing brought to her by her stylist and his assistants and she selects from that. All those clothes are hand picked from the latest in the stores and runways. Karlie basically has the same except she’s around designers and in showrooms and has her own stylist. They’re choosing from the same array of stuff. It’s not a coincidence that they end up wearing the same colors sometimes because these trends have been decided by the designers about a year in advance, sometimes more (it’s crazy how this stuff is done, way too long to explain). So, I’m sorry. We’ll have to agree to disagree on this. I see nothing in the similar clothing.

As for being forced to beard... maybe if I hadn’t grown up in LA and worked on film for nearly 2 decades and had so many friends in tv and film, I’d see this stuff differently, but this just isn’t what bearding looks like. Being “forced” to beard looks like this:

You’ve got a celebrity who is very hot right now or is on the rise. Their agent or publicist/manager and everyone on their team has convinced them they know what is best and America will never accept an out gay man or woman as the next leading man or top vocalist. And sadly, this is still true. America will accept them to a degree but at the top of their game? Not yet. And the celeb in question knows this. So he goes along with it. He doesn’t like it, because he loves his boyfriend. But he plays the game because he loves acting or singing and it’s the price you pay. And he resents his agent but he gets it.

So he lets his publicist put out tabloid stories of him being caught canoodling with a female celeb here or there. Then he goes out with said female celeb to somewhere like The Grove or one of the it restaurants and they get papped but make it look organic. They don’t comment. They build momentum through “are they, aren’t they?” Because that kind of talk is way more intriguing than a confirmation. Plus, it lets you test the waters. Is it going to be Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez attention grabbing? Or is it going to be a dud romance that no one cares about. Ideally you want somewhere in between because Gay Celeb wants the public to believe he’s with Straight Female Celeb but he doesn’t want to have to be on guard all the damn time and be with her too often. Eventually the couple goes public and they attend red carpets together hand in hand. The Gay Celeb and Female Celeb are friends and get along- that is a must. No one in their right mind would pit two people who didn’t care for one another together and make them sign some “bearding contract”. That’s a recipe for disaster and revenge and who wants to take that risk (so all this talk of Josh and joe and Karlie and Taykor all hating one another? No dice). Also, the Gay Celeb establishes early on that his partner is actually his best friend so that they can hide in plain sight. Trust me on this one. There are several best friendships in Hollywood currently that are more. I know of one. But I’m sure there are more. Think about it. Why in the world would you hide that? Why would you set yourself up to hide your lover and sneak around and set up the possibility to get caught by paps and give them and the Enquirer something to blackmail you with? Or give a producer with no morals who wants you to do his shitty movie something to blackmail you with?

So, no. I don’t see a situation between TS and KK where they ever needed to stop being friends. There was never really any speculation about th em except for one night and that went away quickly and they carried on exactly as they had been, even doing a vogue cover embracing one another. So clearly the speculation didn’t stop them. So why end the friendship all of a sudden?

Any thoughts after what I explained?

I don’t mean to come off as ‘I’m so cool I’m so Hollywood”. I’m not. I used to be in the film business but not in some huge important way. But I did have tons of friends in all sorts of positions ina and around film and tv and angencies. And I had a very good gay friend who dated a closeted tv actor, who I then got to know. I actually witnessed him fake date an actress whom he barely even knew. I know a little. I don’t know everything. Mostly I just use logic. I try to break it down all the time logically.

Like, don’t you think, logically, that what would make the most sense of Karlie and Taylor we’re secretly together would be for them to be friends - maybe not super close, but still friends- and maybe have a boyfriend here or there but not to be married and super serious boyfriend. And not to have to send clues to their fans to speak to them through riddles and code and clues? Why would Karlie choose to stay with josh Kushner if he’s so bad as they say? Why would she fake a wedding? Why is Taylor still with Joe instead of being single? Why does Taylor spend SO much time in London (which is confirmed by the Jetties)?

Just stuff like that. I’d love to hear how you make sense of things like that. I know, for me, Kaylor made sense when they were friends and stopped making sense shortly thereafter, which is why I started questioning and ultimately leaving. So I’d love to hear where your head is at on that. Oh, and also, what about all the broken promises along the way. The “Joe is gone after Rep is released. No, joe is home after Rep tour. No, Joe is home by TS7. No, Joe is gone after Lover. Etc.” and the same for Josh. Like, no matter what, they’re always saying T or K will be “free” of Joe and Josh by this date and it never happens.

Oh! And also, what do you think of Karlie being managed by and friends daycat with Scooter? How does that work?

Please know, none of this is asked maliciously. I’m truly enjoying our back and forth and I hold no ill will and I don’t think you are stupid or have any malice towards anyone or are crazy or delusional. You seem smart and bright and into possibilities. So I’m interested in just talking. And btw, thanks so much for keeping up the conversation. I’ve genuinely enjoyed it.

And remember! Send a submission so you don’t have to keep sending asks. That way you can make it as long as you want. I think you can put in a fake email to be anonymous. xx

(No proofreading again. Sorry! Hope it makes sense!)

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sturlsons · 5 years

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french in 1.5 years anon

Kinda random but I just found out that I’ll be required to be intermediate/advanced in French by the next 1.5 years; ALL I KNOW IS THAT MEIRDE IS A BAD BAD WORD! Idk if you’re a native speaker but I was wondering if you could provide me of any good French language resources (or language in general since I’ll be needing to learn Arabic soon as well), and like tips for language learning and how to go about it? Sorry to bother you haha this is MY stress but I appreciate any help! Have a great day!

HEY. so i really fucking dropped the ball on this one, i’m sorry. 2019 has been one health fiasco after another (or more like the same fiasco again and again) and i kept telling myself i want to sit down and make a proper post for this, until i realised that that’s just never going to happen given the way things are rn. and i’d rather give you a quickly-written post which is actually helpful than never write that perfect bullet-pointed one.

first of all, i’ve been in your EXACT position (so no, i’m not a native speaker) except i had about...six months to go from je m’appelle teesta to voyez-vous, le problème qui se cache derrière tout ça n’est pas le manque de respect mais la personne dont il s’agit or whatever. i was like, i can so do this. (spoiler: i didn’t, because i was 18 and overconfident and stupid and didn’t actually know how to learn a language.) GOOD NEWS: having learned 3 more foreign languages since then, i am now REALLY GOOD at learning languages REALLY FAST. 1.5 years is a good amount of time, so don’t stress.

i’m going to go generic on this, with some extra tips about french since i speak it, unlike arabic.

first thing, that typical thing everyone hates to hear but knows is coming from the mouth of an accomplished person (pat on my back) in any field whatsoever: you’re going to have to work really hard and practice like fuck.

there’s just nothing else that can replace it. i’ve filled up notebooks and notebooks with japanese verb conjugations, once i did like 1800 of them in one sitting. but you better believe that a bitch will never forget those now. resign yourself to putting in at least three hours of your day to this until you get to the level you need. (and three hours is...kind. at my peak i was literally reading through french dictionaries at the library, 10 AM - 8 PM. i treated it like a workday.)

now, what you need to establish is: are you a hands-on learner or a digital one.

i don’t really care for all the auditory learner and visual learner stuff, i don’t know about anyone else but i personally used those as excuses to avoid certain exercises. unless you have actual disabilities preventing you from accessing certain methods of learning, you can train yourself into anything. it’s a matter of practice. i could barely understand a new song without reading its lyrics first, now i eat up podcasts.

SO. the question here is different. a hands-on learner, like i used to be more or less throughout my bachelor’s, is someone who absolutely cannot retain information unless they’ve written it down BY HAND at least once. pen and paper. (i’m still like this but i’ve learned to combine it with digital methods to go faster.) if this isn’t a hurdle for you, congratulations. your process is going to go that much faster, at least for french. (you’ll have to spend hours practicing your written arabic however, if you’re not familiar with the script.)

now, if you’re a hands-on learner, you need to add an extra hour to your daily time. no matter how fast you write, you will take that time. and you cannot shorthand your way into languages. you need to understand how french is spelt, what accents it uses, that they put a space before exclamation points, question marks, and semicolons. (side tip: learn the IPA. it will be useful to you forever in language learning, at least for the romance languages.) i’m not gonna teach you how to make notes since i’ve never benefitted from copying someone else’s style, so if you don’t have a set method start establishing that. you need regularity and rhythm when you learn a language. my grammar notes look the same regardless of the language. i don’t have my french ones since it’s been years and i didn’t take good ones then anyway, but here’s my japanese and russian stuff.

JAPANESE NOTES // RUSSIAN NOTES

now, it bears mentioning that these notes are NOT the notes i take when i don’t know shit. these are final level notes. they’re brief, idiosyncratic, and only reminders. something to refer to when i’m revising and suddenly forget a rule. the first notes i make are much more elaborate, whether they’re pretty or not. i’ve gradually lost the fucks i had about really going ham on academics so my russian notes are very messy, but my japanese ones from back in the day are magnificent. here’s a look. during lesson one i realised that japanese and my mother tongue, gujarati, are syntaxically similar as shit, and i started taking notes with references in gujarati. it sped up my learning process 2x while my french classmates were still going “BUT WHY IS IT LIKE THAT”.

PRACTICAL GRAMMAR // THEORETICAL GRAMMAR

if you plan to learn more languages in the future, this will be so valuable. sometimes a phrase i learn in russian doesn’t make sense in its french explanation, but a phrase in english might use the same logic. bam, put down the translation in english then. you get what i’m saying? the more languages you learn, the easier it gets to learn languages.

now if you’re a digital learner, i’ve got great news for you. duolingo and anki are your best friends. duolingo’s memed to hell and has a system that might not work for everyone, but they’ll do the brunt work of compiling grammar notes for you in the beginnings/ends of their lessons. note those down and transform them into anki flashcards, and you can learn grammar concepts without doing 20 exercises. (do those exercises if you can, though, nothing beats mindless practice.) now anki is an intimidating-looking but actually super intuitive app that basically builds digital flashcards for you and shows them to you in a rhythm based on your own learning speed. it’ll show you the front of a card, let’s say merde. you say the english translation out loud, shit, and hit enter. correct! was that easy? anki’ll show it to you in 10 minutes. hard? it’ll show you in 1 minute. super easy? merde won’t come up again until tomorrow. eventually you get so good at it that you can bury a card for 2 months. anki will also show you the same cards reversed, which is harder but trains you better. you’ll see shit and have to remember what it’s called in french, which is more difficult than you’d think it is.

you can use anki for more than just vocab, like i mentioned. it’s a little tricky learning to convert grammar concepts into front/back flashcards, but you can do it. for example, here’s a sample of one of my russian grammar cards:

front ^^

back once i hit enter^^

see? not that difficult. now don’t be an idiot like me who manually entered every single flashcard into anki. you can find pre-made packages online (but you can’t guarantee they’ll be correct) or you can make your own without killing your fingers. what you wanna do is open up a spreadsheet and make two columns, A for front of the card and B for back. it’ll look like this:

then you’re gonna save that spreadsheet as a .CVS (comma separated values) and import that into anki. bam, your flashcards are made for you with half the effort. there’s also a script floating around somewhere to make excel translate words automatically for you, but i don’t recommend that unless they’re really easy words. google translate can fuck up. reverso is your friend.

you need to review your anki cards every day. it’ll take less and less time as you go along. i can review 300 russian cards in 15 minutes now. but you need to keep the rhythm going. download ankiapp and sync your cards, review them on commutes or in the hallway or whatever. trust me, it’s magic.

apart from this, if a traditional textbook helps, go for that. i’ve always used textbooks and workbooks, more as supports than as principal methods, but it does help. it’s structured and organised and these people know how to train you. bescherelle is a good go-to for french.

media is always a great way of immersion too, until you get to the country itself. it’ll show you how french people speak french. when i first came to france i didn’t have that experience and even though i spoke an arguably decent amount of french when i got here, it was like, if this is french then what the fuck was i learning in high school. if you like watching movies this is your chance. watch the classics first so that you can get an idea of french pop culture. amélie (though the pop culture aspect here is about shitting on it) and les intouchables, for starters. watch your favourite films, first subbed, then subbed and dubbed, then just dubbed. i watched all ten seasons of friends with french subs, it was wild. with music you want to start off with some indie-ish singers since they will universally sing softer and slower, making things easier to understand than idk, la tribu de dana. (if you’re into bts there’s a hilarious video of their baepsae choreo set to la tribu de dana.) anyway - angèle, cœur de pirate, céline dion, fréro delavega, uhhh that fucking french sufjan stevens. what’s his name. VIANNEY. don’t fucking listen to biglo and oli or like, fatal bazooka right away. you will not understand shit. i barely understand it. white people are wild. ooh listen to stromae. orelsan too, he’s a rapper but he has a relatively clean diction imo. he also sang the french opening for OPM. they call him orelsan-san in japan.

last but not the least: if you have the opportunity to interact in french with people, DO IT. native speakers will do their best to help you and be kind about it. people who learned french might sometimes be assholes from experience. it’s a whole superiority complex thing, and very hypocritical. anyway - online or IRL, wherever you can practice your french, do it. it’ll be immensely helpful. there’s nothing like the frustration of not being able to express simple things to get you motivated to get better. do your best to immerse yourself - changing the language on your devices can make a difference too.

i think that’s all i have and again, i’m sorry for taking this long to finally deliver, thanks for your patience! if you have any specific questions don’t hesitate to hit me up, on anon or not.

good luck - it’s not going to be the easiest but nothing is as gratifying as beginning to understand the workings of a language. you’re gonna love it!

#teesta talks for ts #uni tag #anons #replies

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mistressdickens · 6 years

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A little piece of Oscars thinking

This morning I saw a post which claimed Glenn Close had never deserved a single Oscar nomination in her entire career, but she was probs going to win because eh, it’s time and whatevs and even though I can’t actually find the post anymore, I just wanna write my feelings about the Oscars as a whole, and Glenn Close in particular because I found the post hilarious, especially as it was meant to be super salty, and I just ... laughed.

I wrote something else recently about awards, which I’ll be the first to admit wasn’t pitched the right way, and seemingly set one actress against another. That’s not my intention here.

This post is therefore written with a huge amount of passion, very little wit, a heavy reliance on IMDB and Wikipedia lists, and a general knowledge that no one is going to read it, but I may as well write it anyway. In a sense I am going to the matresses for Glenn Close.

(Here I would put a gif of Tom Hanks blowing on his fingers and starting to type from You’ve Got Mail, but I can’t find it, so the above joke is basically ruined).

The academy awards are a big pile of garbage (one that I get sucked into almost every year), and have rarely recognised the ‘best’ in cinema, but have rather followed the zeitgeist flavour of the month (La La Land being a case in point), and often rewarding campaigns rather than performance. The academy awards of 1999 being a superb case in point here, where Shakespeare in Love won 7 awards, including best supporting actress for Judi Dench (which I remain convinced was because the academy went ‘oops, we fucked up’ when they didn’t give her the award for the superb Mrs Brown). 1998 boasted The Truman Show, Ever After, Patch Adams, Little Voice, How Stella Got Her Groove Back to name but a few, ALL of which garnered few to none nominations. It’s no coincidence that Miramax were the production company for Shakespeare in Love, and a certain wine stain threw his weight around to get the results he wanted.

It’s nowhere near as bad as the mid to late 80s. I think everyone was high. Sean Connery winning for The Untouchables instead of Denzel Washington for Cry Freedom? I thought the Oscars loved a true story of overcoming adversity? But #oscarssowhite has been a thing long before hashtags were invented.

The fact that Glenn Close has been nominated seven times but has yet to win has nothing to do with her talent as an actor (which is brilliant, and has been overshadowed by a number of other actresses, not least Meryl Streep, although they’ve only gone head to head three times (in 1988, when they both lost out to Cher ...., 1989, when they both lost out to Jodie Foster, and 2012 when Streep won for The Iron Lady (again with the zeitgeist). I’m not even knocking Streep for her multiple nominations - the woman is a class act, and has gone longer between wins than most people (having been nominated 12 times between her wins in 1983 and 2012). Luckily for her, it is easier to understand the losses in this century, when you look back at her competition. I’ve said it before, and I say it again - the 80s were weird.

I’ve seen it said that Glenn Close is bound to win just because she hasn’t already done so (although that logic didn’t work for Richard Burton) which completely detracts from the atristry of her work. Not that Close herself refuses to acknowledge the body of work that’s behind her, nor that this will be in people’s minds. In a recent article for the Daily Herald she said ‘People have been going back and looking at my basic body of work and the six times I lost and what those roles were. So I can't pretend it's just for 'The Wife.'

The simple fact is though that it shouldn’t matter. If you’re an actor over a certain age, you should be considered in light of that you’ve done in the past, and not just the nominated stuff. I think the first thing I ever saw her in (apart from 101 Dalmations) was something called Paradise Road, and I’ve never got over that film. It’s stunning. I wanted to watch everything she ever did after that.

The funny thing is that The Wife is slightly zeigtgisty (is that even a word. It is now). It taps into the Time’s Up and Me Too movements in a way I’m not sure any of us would have expected, and without saying a word, Glenn Close shows us exactly how being a woman and sidelined feels (then she explodes and it is awesome in it’s ferocity).

I could go on, and I could denounce Close’s ‘category sisters�� (as she so wonderfully calls them) but they are all wonderful and deserve the recognition of the work they have been doing. I could wonder why Rachel Weisz wasn’t nominated for Disobedience, ANY of the cast of Oceans 8, Saorsie Ronan for On Chesil Beach, Emma Thompson for The Children Act, Rupert Everett for The Happy Prince, Rosamund Pike for A Private War (although I remain confused which year that sits in terms of nominations), Viola Davis for Widows, but I guess them’s the breaks, and we’ll never know who was on the long list before the final 5 were announced. It’s SUCH a lottery, and based on so much institutional bias and favouritism that you’d be better off throwing a dart on a massive board of names to try and pick a winner.

In short, if Glenn Close wins this year it will be for her superlative performance in The Wife AND for her fantastic 45 year career, and I for one do not have a problem with that.

#glenn close #academy awards #oscars #in which I go on a slight rant

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artificialqueens · 7 years

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The Kind of Dice You Throw [3/3] (Trixie/Alaska/Katya) - perfectlystill

A/N: There’s one scene where Brian/Trixie refers to Alaska and Katya as Justin and Brian, respectively. It retains the use of feminine pronouns for them, though, which will hopefully make it a little bit easier to parse and a little bit less confusing (especially with two Brian’s).

Thank you all so much for reading and leaving whatever kind of feedback you have. I hope it all comes together for you, doesn’t disappoint, and the ending is satisfying. Again, all I can say, even though it doesn’t properly express my gratitude, is thank you <3

Same warning for mentions of drug use/addiction apply, and now there’s a joke about incest. Amazing! Originally posted at ao3 here.

Summary: Brian feels like there’s some joke he isn’t privy to, but he smiles anyway, letting Katya force them into a final group hug. It makes him feel like the inside joke between Alaska and Katya did: a little bit left out, but with nowhere else he’d rather be. A weird amalgamation of observer and participant. He’d rather feel slightly off-kilter with Katya and Alaska than steady with anyone else.

Katya looks at home in Alaska’s apartment, sprawled on the sofa, one leg crooked over the arm, her neck bent against the back. It seems uncomfortable, but she grins and waves at Brian as he walks into the room.

“Hey! You made it.”

“Barely. The 101 was like trying to shove a dick into an ass without lube.”

Katya grimaces, and Alaska chuckles from the detour she took to the kitchen. “That’s disgusting, and it sounds painful.”

“Which one?” Brian asks, sitting on an armchair. The floral print makes it look as though Alaska inherited it from her grandmother, but the cushion is soft yet firm, almost new.

“Both! I never need a dick up my ass again.”

“That’s fine by me,” Alaska says, offering Brian a glass of water before cracking open a Red Bull. “Fucking someone is too much work.”

“What’s the term Detox told me?” Katya says, twisting her wrist in the air, grabbing as though she’s trying to catch the word. “Oh! Pillow Princess. That’s what you are, except like. You’re a man and you give really good head.”

“So, not a pillow princess at all,” Alaska says, smacking the back of Katya’s thigh.

“The truth hurts, doesn’t it, Princess?” Katya laughs at her own joke, and Alaska huffs before taking a sip of Red Bull.

Brian doesn’t understand the specifics involved in the term pillow princess, but he doesn’t want to ask and get another lecture from Katya about women in the LGBT community and not letting his ignorance turn him into an accidental misogynist. His mom is his favorite person in the world, he would do all those stupid things Bruno Mars sings about in that song about explosives for his sister, and he’ll google it later if he remembers. All the knowledge and none of Katya’s disappointment. Nevermind that Detox had to tell her about Alaska being, or not being, a pillow princess.

“I’m sorry he’s being insufferable today,” Alaska says.

“I’m sorry she’s insufferable every day, and that you’re the one who has to deal with her now,” Brian answers, a smirk shaping up around his mouth. “Actually, I’m not sorry at all. It’s a pretty good deal for me.”

“Why do I like him again?” Alaska scrunches her nose up, and Brian thinks about how cute it is before he can stop himself.

“Beats me.”

“Hey!” Katya says, finally sitting up. “I’m right here.”

Brian blinks. “We know.”

“I’m great! I’m pretty and kind of funny and very charming.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Brian swipes at some condensation on his glass with his thumb, watching the easy way Katya grabs the Red Bull from Alaska, taking a sip before handing it back. “Thirteen-year-old girls seem to like you.”

“More than they like you,” Katya confirms.

“Oh no! What will I do?” Brian rolls his eyes, but there’s no malice behind it.

“Make less money than me. And the next time we negotiate with anyone, it’s none of this ‘we’re a team’ nonsense. We go in as individuals and see whose Twitter followers get them a higher paycheck. You win or you die.”

“Stop saying that,” Brian says. “Someone is going to see my text messages and think I’m being threatened.”

Katya and Alaska both laugh, shifting together so their shoulders brush, and Brian bites back a smile.

“All he ever texts me are dick pics,” Alaska says with a shrug.

“I’d rather have that than a string of emojis I’m supposed to understand. She’s not Carrie Fisher.”

“I wish!” Katya splays her hand over her heart. “Alaska won’t even roleplay Jabba the Hutt.”

Brian screams his laugh, and Alaska drops her head into her hands, but he can see she’s smiling even as her face flushes, her knee now poking against Kayta’s.

“I tried to compromise and let her be Luke, but apparently she’s not into incest.”

“You’re out of options,” Brian says, deadpan. “Guess you’ll have to return the little bikini you bought.”

Katya gasps. “Never. I’d sooner dump this broad and hire a hooker who will let me live out my fantasy.”

Alaska pouts, bottom lip pushing out further than should be possible. She hooks a hand around Katya’s elbow and looks at her. “You don’t mean that.”

Katya holds for a few seconds before leaning in, a quick peck to Alaska’s mouth. Brian feels like he’s missing a conversation, and he wonders if this is what the people at WOW feel like when they’re trying to film an episode of UNhhh. Except this makes his chest feel warm and his toes tingle in his shoes, and he imagines the producers feel annoyance and frustration whenever he and Katya get off topic or their transitions are only logical to the two of them – granted Brian managed to follow Katya’s train of thought in the first place. He presses his mouth in to a thin line and can’t bring himself to look away.

“No,” Katya says, soft and genuine. A beat: “I mean it.”

Alaska laughs, that asthmatic chuckle that Brian already loves too much, and the sound is contagious, catching until all three of them are laughing.

Brian didn’t expect this to feel so natural. When he got stuck in traffic, he considered calling and cancelling.

He’s glad he didn’t.

He likes making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with Katya, cutting the crusts off his and Alaska’s and letting Katya eat them. He likes the little frustrated groans Alaska lets out as she sets up the TV. He likes the Golden Girls coasters she has, and the way her face lights up when she explains they’re a gift from a fan, even if she can’t remember who gave them to her, their gender, the city or the year. And he likes the way Katya wedges herself between him and Alaska on the sofa, all of them barely touching as they watch, cozy and warm and nice.

Katya’s looking at her phone as she enters the basement to film, an eye glued to the center of her forehead.

Brian’s throat dries, and he clutches at the flimsy material of his skirt.

When Katya looks up, she smiles, but it falters when she processes Brian’s expression. “What? Is there lipstick on my chin again?”

“No,” he manages, scratchy and low. “No, you look good.”

“Thank you.” Her grin widens, brighter than it was before, and she pulls out her skirt to curtsy. “I am the most beautiful woman in the world, and I’m glad you’ve finally noticed. Everyone else has.”

He swallows, wipes his palms, and tries to stop his brain from short-circuiting. Or maybe his brain is simply working when it wasn’t before. “I never said any of that.”

“Potato, potah-toe,” she hums, sliding onto her stool. “I didn’t like, stop your heart, did I? You look kind of … pale.”

“Under all this?” Brian points at his face and the layers of makeup caked onto his skin.

She laughs, a tiny and tight thing. Her brows are furrowed, and she leans in, placing her hand on his head. “You don’t feel warm.”

“I’m okay.” He blinks, bats her hand away, and shakes out his shoulders. “I’m just going to get some water and then I’ll be ready.”

“That’s how I got lipstick on my chin!”

He shoots her a thumbs up, and she reciprocates, but her body looks tense, her expression all concern.

Brian doesn’t understand how he didn’t figure it out before. Not when Katya sat in his hotel room, gluing googly eyes onto a cheap piece of fabric she would tie around her wrist as a bracelet later that night, not when she was reading 1984 at the airport, sketching unblinking eyes into the margins, and not when she spent almost an hour trying to explain the third eye to him.

Katya is his soulmate.

Fuck.

He knocks and waits, but he doesn’t hear any shuffling. He knocks again, and then he gets a message from Katya: I’m running late! Be there soon.

Brian sighs, typing out a quick response before shoving his phone back into his pocket. He thinks about sitting in his car. It’s winter in LA, so it’s not an unbearable heat chamber, but just as he steps off the small porch, the door swings open. “Oh, I thought you meant–” He cuts himself off, seeing Alaska. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She forces a smile, but it’s impossible for her to hide the wetness in her red eyes. She looks like she splashed water on her face to make it seem like she hasn’t been crying. It clearly didn’t work. “Sorry, Brian went to pick up a dress or something.”

Brian nods. “The usual traffic.”

“He’ll be back soon. Come in.” She holds the door open further, retreating backward.

Brian clears his throat. He knows if almost anyone showed up at his place and he’d been crying, he’d want them to pretend they couldn’t tell. But when he settles into his armchair, he sees the DVR paused on the end of the All Stars episode, and he sees Alaska’s phone, Instagram open, teetering near the edge of the coffee table.

“Do you want something to drink?” Alaska asks, leaning against the archway, left toes dancing against her right ankle. Her lips are too thin for someone with filler, and her eyes are too wide. Her tone aims for flippant and kind, but she misses the mark.

“I’m okay.” He gestures toward the television. “The episode was good, huh?”

Alaska grimaces, and she seems to collapse into the wall. “Sure was entertaining.”

“That’s the kind of drama we need,” Brian says. “None of this kumbaya bullshit. That’s boring.”

“Yeah.” Alaska chews on her bottom lip.

“You can like, leave. If you want. I have a phone to pretend to scroll through while I wait for Katya. If you don’t want to talk about it. Or at all.”

Alaska nods, shuffling toward the sofa. “Sorry. I just. I knew it was coming, and the reception hasn’t been as nice as season five for a few weeks, anyway. But. It’s hard when everyone is telling you that you’re an awful person, pasting snake emojis all over the place and telling you to die.”

“Shit,” Brian exhales. “That’s bad.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Alaska says, running a hand through her hair.

Brian bounces his knees, eyeing the space between them and the sofa. “Yeah, but I’m still sorry. I’m not a monster.” A beat. “Not like you.”

A sudden snort of laughter rips from Alaska’s throat. She covers her mouth, her eyes welling with fresh tears. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Brian says, using the arms of the chair to push himself up. He settles next to Alaska, arm wrapping around her shoulder, squeezing and rubbing small circles. “Not even that tantrum. You’re a drag queen, for god’s sake, if you’re not having a meltdown at least once a week, you need to quit. We’re meant to be divas.”

“I know.” She sniffles and wipes under her eyes. “I know that. It just feels like everyone hates me, and I know it doesn’t matter. All the people online who hate me don’t even know me. But it’s hard when everyone is actively rooting for you to fail.”

“Not everyone. I’m sure there are like,” he pauses to hum and taps his fingers deliberately against Alaska’s shoulder as though he’s counting, “five loyal Alaska fans fighting everyone on Twitter. And only two of them are Katya’s old incognito accounts.”

Alaska laughs, a softer, kinder one than her first. Her hand finds Brian’s knee. “What about you?”

“Oh, I only use to Twitter to trick the youth in to thinking I’m relatable.”

“No.” She slaps Brian’s knee the way he’s seen her tap Katya, and his heart burns with it. “Do you hate me?”

“Hate you?” Brian’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “No, of course not.”

He feels a lot of stupid feelings for Alaska, but hate isn’t one of them, and it never has been.

She looks him in the eye. Hers are red and puffy, but they’re clear. They narrow a little, searching, and Brian drops his hand from her shoulder, feels her gaze prick goosebumps all over his body. “Good. I don’t hate you, either.”

“Glad we cleared that up.”

Alaska smiles. “I’m going to go wash my face again and get some water. Brian should be back soon. He’s probably having his own diva moment. Fashionably late.”

“There’s nothing fashionable about her.”

This time Alaska laughs that loud, uninhabited, embarrassing thing that Brian fell in love with the first time he caused it.

Brian crowns Alaska the night the finale airs, and it’s magical.

Everybody in the crowd is excited to witness her reaction and to be with the winner tonight. She’s a real, flesh and blood person in front of them instead of a villain on their televisions. Brian knows there are a lot of people who are pissed off, and they certainly outnumber the people who are happy for Alaska tonight, but it doesn’t matter right now. Not with a crown on her head as she performs, captivating and radiant.

She earned this: the title, the sparkle on her head, and the joy.

By the end of the night they’re both drunk, and Brian’s de-dragged except for the faint stain of red on his upper lip that mirrors the way his usual pink always takes at least 24 hours to completely fade. Alaska’s in her underwear and a T-shirt that hangs loose on her bony frame.

“Do you want to pool?” she asks, peeling off one of her eyelashes and placing it carefully in the little box she pulled it out of.

“Yeah, just hurry your ass up.”

She shakes her butt and winks, her laugh bubbling over. Brian laughs, too, always easy for it when there’s too much champagne in his system.

It takes Alaska twice as long as it should to finish cleaning up and pack her belongings, clumsier than usual and chatting with the promoter as they finish clearing the club. Brian taps his foot without fuss, leaning back in his chair, texting Katya and waiting for the dick pic Willam will send of the trade he left with. Brian’s eyes droop with the pulsing soreness of exhaustion he’s gotten used to.

“I’m ready,” Alaska says, one bag slung over her shoulder, reaching out with her free hand, the other around the handle of her large, wheeled suitcase.

She helps Brian up, offers to carry his makeup case, and he lets her. He follows her to the side of the building where they wait for the Uber, watching her hips sway as though she’s still padded and wearing heels instead of Converse.

The night is dark and chilly. Brian shifts his weight to help keep warm, arm brushing against Alaska’s flannel. “Congratulations,” he says.

“Condragulations,” she corrects, smile splitting her face.

He rolls his eyes. “Sucks that Katya’s not around tonight.”

“It’s okay.” She shrugs. “We already celebrated.”

“Do tell.” He waggles his eyebrows. Vodka soda still swims in his veins, and a nice fuzziness frizzes in his head. He’d never ask for details from Alaska otherwise. Propriety, or at least the illusion of it, too important to him.

Alaska smirks. “Girl really loves to eat ass.”

“I’ve heard.”

“She’s really good at it,” Alaska drawls, the words elongated, even for her. “I was sore for days after, too. The combination of his happiness for me and … I don’t know if it was jealousy or disappointment or anger or what, but it was great.”

He whistles as their Uber pulls up to the curb. “Sounds like it.”

“But I’m glad you’re here tonight.” She looks at Brian, eyes blown but sincere as she reaches for his hand, holding it between both of hers. “I’m glad I got to share this with you, too.”

Her words catch in the back of Brian’s throat, and he suddenly feels too sober for this. “Me too.”

They clamber into the back of the car, the ride quiet except for the lull of soft rock the driver plays. Alaska leans her head against Brian’s shoulder. She smells like perfume and alcohol and sweat. Brian closes his eyes and inhales, his hands clenched into fists in his lap.

Brian watches the videos Katya and Alaska post from Aspen: Katya on the red phone, singing “Purse First” and voguing down an empty hallway, filming each other as they get into the car. They’re both laughing and smiling, their joy infectious through the screen, making Brian laugh and smile too. His chest feels warm, and he tucks up on the sofa, rewatching their stories an embarrassing number of times.

It’s nice.

He misses them.

It causes an aching feeling in his chest that makes his breath shallow, prompting him to close his eyes and focus on an inhale and the answering exhale. It doesn’t make him sad, though. Brian finds missing them is nice, too.

The smell of buttery popcorn mixes with the low lights and the ugly, patterned carpet. Brian blinks as his eyes adjust, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. He squints up at the board behind the register. The lights are digital and red, but one of them is broken, the top of the T gone

“Three for the 4:15 please,” Katya says.

“What?” Brian asks.

“I got it.” Katya smiles. “I’m dating a rich superstar.”

Alaska snorts, but her lips twitch with a smile. “You really got a dime.”

“I don’t do drugs anymore.”

“A perfect ten,” Alaska clarifies, an edge of annoyance, but mostly exasperated fondness.

“A real robbery.” Katya reaches out, squeezing Alaska’s wrist, her grin stretching with the contact. Her smile is large and white and blinding. It’s the kind of smile that would read fake on anyone else, but Katya’s eyes are just as bright. Brian thinks she has the happiest smile in the world.

As Katya hands the poor cashier her card, Brian leans into Alaska, stage-whispering, “If you need help suing, my brother’s a lawyer.”

“I don’t think I can afford him anymore,” Alaska laughs.

“I’ll set you up with the family discount,” Brian says.

“Thanks,” Katya says to the employee before turning to them. “Your brother loves me and would never sue me. He’d defend me. Pro-bono.”

“That’s probably true,” Brian admits, shrugging. “Katya bought everyone presents when she went back home with me last year, claiming they were Christmas gifts four months late.”

“Or early or late birthday gifts, depending on which was closer,” Katya clarifies.

Alaska’s face softens, head tilting as she looks at Katya. “You’re the best.”

Brian nods. “Unfortunately, she really is.”

Katya twirls her hands, a little gay flourish that causes Alaska to laugh and Brian to roll his eyes. “Finally! The respect I deserve.”

Alaska insists on paying for refreshments, and when Brian tries to protest, Katya smacks his arm. “Let him, he’s loaded. And if you don’t, I’ll have to hear him whining all the way home about why you hate him and wouldn’t let him treat you to bland popcorn and that thing you keep calling pop but is actually soda.”

When Alaska goes to the bathroom an hour into the film, followed two minutes later by Katya, a hand on Brian’s knee she uses to leverage herself up, Brian half-expects them to come back with sex hair. But only a minute goes by before Alaska’s back, leaning over to whisper in Brian’s ear and ask what she missed. “The less attractive sad man cried in the shower. He doesn’t have any muscles, so you’re good.”

They go out for beer when the movie’s over, and Katya orders a water with a huge bowl of lemons on the side. “What’d you think?” she asks.

“It was okay,” Alaska says, mouth a flat, slanted line.

“About 30 minutes too long,” Brian groans. “By the second misunderstanding, I was ready to walk out of the theater.”

“God, I know. If you’d just talk to each other, you’d know that attractive lady at the opera is just the sister of more attractive sad man.” Katya shakes her head before taking a sip of water.

“I know we don’t communicate as well as lesbians,” Alaska starts. “But they were acting like straight people.”

Katya wheezes, and Trixie screams. “It was not the kind of tragedy I wanted to watch.”

“One day, they’ll be more quality gay movies we can waste $50 on,” Katya says.

“Hopefully soon. Especially since you refuse to see those Marvel things with me.” Alaska takes a pull of her beer before reaching across the small table and fiddling with one of Katya’s lemon slices.

Brian arches a brow. “You like those?”

“There’s too much testosterone most of the time, but the nerdy comic book kid in me needs to see how badly they’re gonna mess up my heroes.”

“He’s lying.” Katya rests an elbow on the table, leaning forward. “He ranted for ten minutes about how much he loved the green Guardian of the Galaxy a few weeks ago. He loves that boring shit.”

“Gamora,” Alaska corrects. “And a broken clock is still right twice a day.”

“I think I would suffer through someone as handsome as Chris Evans in a tight suit for you,” Brian says.

Alaska flutters her eyelashes. “The sign of a true gentleman.”

“Perfect!” Katya claps her hands together once. “Works out for everybody.”

“I reserve the right to change my mind depending on how hot the men are and how tightly their uniforms fit, though.”

“Oh, of course,” Alaska says, taking a sip of Katya’s water before setting it down between them. “That’s why Paul Rudd was Ant Man, so you’d agree to come over and watch a movie with a shit name like Ant Man.”

“If you think I haven’t seen Ant Man already, you’re deluded.”

Alaska shakes her head, her smile apologetic. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”

Katya takes a few large gulps of water before grabbing the lemon slice Alaska has been turning between her fingers, squeezing it into the half-empty glass. “Yeah, I had to hear about it for a week straight.”

“Shut up. You sent me a stupid Contact meme two weeks ago.”

“Contact is art, Mawma!”

Brian watches as Alaska and Katya squeeze so much lemon into the glass it’s almost three-quarters full of liquid again. Katya tries it, grimaces, and drops the last lemon husk she’s holding in, some water splashing out and onto the table.

Alaska wipes it away with her napkin. “Do you think they sell dessert here?”

“No,” Brian and Katya answer.

“Didn’t you eat half the tub of popcorn?” Brian asks.

“I have a fast metabolism.”

“I hate you both, I really do.”

Katya kicks him underneath the table, but then strokes his shin. “You love us both.”

Brian holds up a hand. “I plead the fifth.”

“Let’s stop for something on the way home,” Alaska says. She takes a small sip of the water, seemingly swirling it around her mouth before swallowing. “I want something sweet.”

“Nothing chocolate or fruity,” Katya says.

Alaska hums. “Deal, but I get to pick out what we get if I follow those guidelines.”

Katya holds out her hand. “Deal. And Trixie’s our witness, so if we come home with a strawberry ice cream cake, I get to Snap her and she’ll know how much of a liar you really are.”

Alaska rolls her eyes, but she shakes on it. “Fine.”

They only agree to let Brian pay if he lets them tip, and he even though they only bought two beers, Alaska sets a five on the table.

The light in the parking lot flickers, broken, as they stand by Brian’s car. Alaska tugs him into a hug, hands squeezing around his shoulders and pulling him closer. She’s warm, the scent of her aftershave lingering through the popcorn and lemon.

Katya hugs him after, chin poking sharply into his shoulder and fingers dancing along his spine. “We’ll have to do this again the next time we’re all in the same place.”

“I’ll pencil you in for next year,” Brian jokes.

Katya pretends to look at a watch on her wrist. “May 16th?”

“I already have plans then,” Alaska answers. “I’m seeing my other lover.”

Katya’s hand still lingers by Brian’s waist, and she pulls Alaska into her other side by the elbow. “Trixie and I would love to fuck him, too.”

“Sister wives!” Alaska screeches, and Kayta laughs. Brian feels like there’s some joke he isn’t privy to, but he smiles anyway, letting Katya force them into a final group hug. It makes him feel like the inside joke between Alaska and Katya did: a little bit left out, but with nowhere else he’d rather be. A weird amalgamation of observer and participant. He’d rather feel slightly off-kilter with Katya and Alaska than steady with anyone else.

Katya Snaps him a picture an hour later, arms crossed over her chest, face twisted and sour, mouth turned down into a pout. She stands in front of what looks to be two pineapple upside-down cupcakes. The text across it reads: the 2nd one is for you! xo Justin.

His mom tells him all about the cases his brother’s been winning, along with the accompanying promotion and salary increase. Her voice is proud, the equivalent of a puffed out chest, and Brian can remember a time when it would have felt like an unspoken comment on his own inability to excel in ways she understands. She would never walk into work and shove her phone in a coworker’s face, demanding they watch a joke Brian told on UNHhhh, and not just because she doesn’t know how to get internet on her cell. But Brian doesn’t mind anymore. He knows his mom loves him. She does her best, and she shows it by laughing heartily at all the puns he tells her over the phone and always asking if he’s drinking enough water on the road.

“He met this lovely girl, Brian. She has long blonde hair and an MBA,” his mom says, her voice dropping into an excited whisper. “I think she might be the one.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t get your undies in a twist,” she scolds. “It’s exciting! Your brother is really happy. And speaking of romance…”

“Mom,” Brian groans.

“What! I want all of my children to be happy.”

Brian scrubs his hand over his face. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

She hums, and he can picture the disappointed shake of her head. “This isn’t Facebook, I’m your mother.”

“Exactly.” He loves her so much. It’s kind of annoying.

“What about Katya?” she asks.

They’ve had this conversation before, sitting at the small kitchen table, a book shoved under one leg to make it stable. Brian had stared at the stain his sister made from spilling water and forgetting to wipe it up in a timely matter. His mom nudged his shoulder, smile tight and eyes prying. Any time Brian comes home without a boyfriend, his mom asks, always circling back around to Katya. “His one fault is that he has the same name as you,” she had said. “It’s a good name, though. For a good man. A good husband. Brian squared.”

“I don’t know,” he sighs now, unable to lie to her.

“Oh, that’s different.”

“Yeah. He’s dating Alaska.”

“Who?” his mom asks.

“Alaska. She won the season of All Stars Katya did. They’re like,” he pauses, trying to button the bottom of his flannel over his T-shirt. “They’re really good together? Katya’s sent me a video of Alaska snoring three days in a row. It’s this wheezy thing she does when she has a cold, I guess? And god, they make fun of each other more than any boyfriend has ever let me rib them, but it’s always so… affectionate. If you can’t make fun of your boyfriend, who can you make fun of, you know? I mean, besides everyone.”

His mother chuckles. “Sense of humor is very important.”

“It is.” He swallows. “And Alaska bought Katya’s favorite shampoo without telling her. Katya just showed up at her place one day and it was there, with her name scrawled across it in permanent marker, as though Alaska has some awful, imaginary roommate who eats other people’s food if it isn’t labelled. Katya’s moving in with her soon, already has a key and everything. I’m going to be out of town that weekend, though.” Brian shrugs. “They’re good. Really happy.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” his mom whispers.

“What?”

“I can’t tell which one you love more.”

He blinks. His hand shakes, third button up, and he can’t get it through the hole. “Come again?”

“It’s okay. You have a lot of love in your heart, and from what I can tell, Katya does, too.”

Brian exhales. He feels the tears welling behind his eyes. “She does.”

“Bring Alaska by next time, too. I’d love to meet her.”

He closes his eyes, presses his palm against one until his vision kaleidoscopes. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s gonna work out. Moms know these things.”

Katya throws a small bundle of bananas into the shopping cart, and Brian winces. There will be brown splotches all over them now.

“I’m not kidding, he had a meltdown because he couldn’t find that stupid roll of black tape he puts under his eyes like he’s some sort of football player instead of a scrawny, gay, drag queen,” Katya huffs. Her voice goes high: “Brian, did you steal it? I know you think it’s ugly, but have you seen literally everything you wear? Black is timeless! Wait!” She halts, throwing her hands out to the side, the cart rolling a few inches before stopping, too. “Did you steal it to use? Am I going to go into your closet and find a stupid dress covered in stripes of my tape?”

“Oh my god,” Brian mutters.

“I know. Unbelievable. And you know where he found it?”

“In your sock drawer where you were hiding it?”

Katya’s mouth twitches, but she fights the smile back. “No, but he riffled through all my shit. It had rolled under his vanity.”

Brian laughs.

“He was almost late to the airport, and he left me to clean up. But guess what, Mimi? I didn’t!”

“Wow, maybe she’ll divorce you.”

“I could only be so lucky. Unfortunately, we’re bound for life. Two lesbians in love.” Katya sighs, grabbing the cart again and turning it down the first aisle.

Brian presses his mouth into a thin line and shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Lesbian love, huh?”

Katya shakes her head, glancing at him as she scans the shelf of canned soup. “Yeah, I mean. We’re soulmates, so obviously.”

“Soulmates?” he chokes out. The word breaks in his mouth, so obvious. There’s a metallic taste like the time he was little, fell and bit his tongue on the way down. He blinks. His lungs constrict and air feels too heavy.

It’s an overreaction.

He knows they’re good together. He knows they love each other. He doesn’t have any delusion about either of them leaving the other for him. Besides the fact that it would be completely fucked up, he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to lose either of them, and he doesn’t want them to lose each other. The idea is almost as awful as Katya casually throwing out that they’re soulmates.

“Trixie,” Katya begins, grabbing a can of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup and putting it next to the container of caramel dipping sauce she’s getting without any apples to dip. She has no taste, and if Brian wasn’t finding it hard to breathe, he’d let her know. “When I got back from Europe, she had organized my drag by era and whether she would ever wear it, and she’s always the one who cleans the bathroom even though I have to unclog the drain. She actually likes letting me shave her ass. Plus, my red lipstick mark is on said ass.”

“What?”

“It’s one of her marks.” Katya shrugs.

“How do you know it’s you?”

“I don’t!” Katya laughs a high, bright, and hoarse thing. “Does it matter?”

Brian shrugs. “I guess not. Soulmates are just. Stupid, I guess.”

Katya looks at him sideways, her eyebrows drawing in. Her hand tightens around the shopping cart. “Wait, I thought you really believed in all this bullshit? Wanted to find your one true love or whatever?”

He runs a hand through his hair, looking at the boxes of ramen noodles instead of Katya. “I did. I do.” She touches his arm, and he makes eye contact. “I’m tired, and the universe doesn’t give a shit, or else my mom’s soulmate wouldn’t have been an abusive asshole. She feels guilty that it took her so long to leave, because if he was her soulmate, shouldn’t it have been perfect? So like. My soulmate’s probably an asshole, too. It’s genetic.”

Katya snorts. “Your soulmate is definitely an asshole.”

He rolls his eyes. “Thank you so much.”

Katya smiles, sympathetic and small. “You’re right. The universe doesn’t care. That sucks for your mom. Assholes should get saddled with assholes, not nice Wisconsin women with good hair. But your soulmates are going to be so…” Katya trails off, her smile somehow softening and her hand circling around his wrist, warm and wonderful. His chest feels it, too. “You’re going to get the kind of soulmates you deserve.”

“Thanks.” A beat. He pulls his arm out of her grip. “Let’s stop having a moment in the grocery store. It’s tacky.”

Katya hip bumps him, the crows feet around her eyes smiling. “The lighting is all wrong for it. Besides, if I don’t buy those disgusting vegan burgers for Justin, I’m in for another tantrum.”

“Those are actually really good,” Brian says.

“You are both disgusting, and it should be illegal to call them burgers.” She shoves the cart forward and has to jog to catch it before it crashes into the shelving.

Brian laughs under his breath.

He really loves her.

Alaska’s a terrible dancer, but then again, so is Katya.

The awkward, disjointed way they move together fits. There’s something beautiful about it. Maybe it’s how comfortable they look. They both know they can’t dance, but they don’t care, and neither of them have had any alcohol to loosen them up. Maybe it’s because they’re in love, and Brian knows that. They’ve shared it with him, constantly and consistently. It hurts sometimes, but he thinks it would hurt more if they didn’t.

Brian’s heart burns as he leans against the bar and sips on his drink, watching them move in tandem. Alaska leans down and whispers something that makes Katya laugh, her head flinging back, Adam’s apple bobbing. Her hands flutter around Alaska’s waist, fingers slipping underneath her T-shirt. Her forehead drops to Alaska’s collarbone, and Alaska runs a hand through Katya’s hair, eyes closed, swaying back and forth.

When the song ends, they break apart. Katya heads toward Brian, and he averts his gaze, pretending to look to the left of them.

“Hey, I’m going to the bathroom. Make sure no one makes fun of his dancing,” Katya whisper-screams.

“What if I do?”

“He’ll laugh.” She squeezes Brian’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

He shakes his head and looks back at Alaska, some of her hair is stuck to her forehead, and her shirt is still rucked up from Katya’s hand. She spins, stumbles, and spots Brian staring. She waves, smile goofy and wide, before crooking her finger and beckoning him forward. He shakes his head no, and she nods yes.

Brian takes a last sip of his drink before setting it down behind him, exaggerating a long-suffering sigh and pushing himself up.

He can’t actually hear Alaska laugh, but his brain provides the sound.

“Howdy, stranger,” Alaska smiles, pretending to tip an imaginary hat.

“Ma'am,” Brian answers, bowing before holding out his hand. “Fancy a square dance?”

Alaska takes his hand. Her palm is soft, and she raises their arms up, forces him to twirl her around. “Lead the way, partner.”

She grabs his other hand and slots her thin fingers between his. Her hands are cold, just like the club, the bodies around them failing to make up for the air-conditioner going full blast. Alaska swings their arms in and out, wiggling her hips and closing her eyes. Unlike Katya, Brian feels awkward, shifting his weight more than swaying, eyes jumping to the people around them. None of them seem to be paying attention, but he itches to turn around, stretching his neck and trying to spot the people behind him just in case they are.

The song changes, Alaska opens her eyes, and one side of her mouth tilts up. She pulls him closer and drops his hands. Her fingers find his belt loops. “I thought you were going to lead.”

“There’s no way I can lead a lost cause,” he answers, hands floating by his sides.

She laughs, and he feels the warm air of it on his mouth. “Sorry. I’m trying to be found.”

Brian laughs, half-hearted, his hands finding purchase on Alaska’s forearms. He blinks and pulls them away almost instantly, feeling like he’s been burned. She pushes even closer, lining up their hips. He freezes, glancing in the direction of the bathroom. His heart hammers, and Alaska looks at him with wide, serious eyes. She places her hands delicately on his shoulders, tapping out the beat of the music. Her mouth is thin, slanted down. Brian settles his hands on her waist, as lightly as possible. He swallows. She holds his gaze, and he can’t breathe.

The ache in his heart builds, builds, builds.

Then it cracks.

Alaska kisses him.

It’s a soft, steady press of her lips to his. His eyes flutter shut. He melts, knees dropping an inch and hands tightening around her hips, feeling her protruding bones through her jeans. The kiss is warm, and despite the cold, his entire body is on fire, electric and pulsing. Brian didn’t know he missed this. He didn’t know he could miss someone he speaks to so often, someone he only hooked up with once. But he did.

It takes too long for him to pull away, because any time at all is too long.

“Katya,” he breathes.

A soft hue of blush paints Alaska’s cheeks. Her eyes bright. “She’ll be so jealous I got there first.” Her voice is shot, breathy and light and lilting.

“What?” Brian glances toward the bathroom, but he doesn’t see Katya making her way over to punch him yet.

“We’ve talked about it,” Alaska says, her voice full of laughter. “You don’t think you’re so irresistible that I’d cheat on him?”

Brian shakes his head, a self-deprecating chuckle pouring out of his mouth. “This is unbelievable.”

Alaska’s eyebrows furrow, her eyes dilated like she’s drunk. “Wait, was that … okay?” she asks, taking a step back. Her face pales. “Sorry, I thought–”

“Ladies!” Katya shrieks, throwing her arms around both of their shoulders. “I hope they didn’t play any good music while I was gone.”

Brian looks at Katya, and then back at Alaska. She’s worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes downcast. “No Erykah Badu,” he says.

“Thank god!” Katya grins, pulling Alaska and Brian closer.

They both stumble, their hands going around her waist, and when Brian’s bumps Alaska’s, she shifts her hand up and away. She looks down at Katya, eyes wide. “I think I made a mistake.”

“Huh?”

“I kissed him,” she says.

Brian watches Katya’s mouth part, eyebrows shooting up. “Bitch! Finally!”

Alaska clenches her jaw, shaking her head.

Katya turns to Brian. “Wait, what happened?”

He inhales, pulls himself out of Katya’s grip. His heart is going wild again. “I’m confused.”

Katya leans in, causing Alaska to shift with him, the two of them still touching. “Can I kiss you?” she asks.

She’s asked before: while they’re filming and when they do joint shows, small pecks that simultaneously mean nothing except for the screaming of the crowd, the comments they’ll get on Youtube, and everything. Tiny little assurances. She used to ask seriously, too, before season seven finished airing, when she was open about wanting to fuck him. She was always nonchalant about it, though, skirting around anything uncomfortable. But this is different, her eyes focused on him, lips dry and twisted in seriousness.

He exhales and catches Alaska’s eye. “Sure.”

Katya kisses like Brian imagined she would. Her lips are firm and solid against his own, and she’s unflinching. It takes him a moment to realize he can participate, move his mouth against hers and not feel like it’s weird or wrong. Instead, he wants to move closer. It’s somehow sweeter than he would have expected, though. She tastes like cinnamon, and her hand finds its way to his face, thumb brushing against his cheek.

He follows her when she pulls away, and it takes a couple of blinks to clear his vision, find focus. “Okay,” he says.

“Is it?” Alaska asks.

He eyes the lack of space between them. Katya’s hand has fallen to the small of Alaska’s back, and Alaska twists a ring around her finger. Katya’s looking at him the same way she did before she kissed him, her lips parted, and he feels it swelling in his chest. He loves them. He really does. He’s in love with them. He reaches out, uses Katya’s shoulder as leverage, and kisses Alaska.

She sighs into his mouth, relieved, and it turns into a smile pressed against his lips.

They stumble back to Alaska and Katya’s place.

The drink Brian had has long faded from his bloodstream, the beating of his heart and fuzziness in his brain solely the product of kissing and light touches that promise to be more. They fall into bed, haphazardly pulling off clothes. Justin’s hands roam, a different pressure than Brian’s mouth nipping down his chest. It’s almost too much. He’s never had a threesome before, but he doesn’t think that’s it. There’s something about these two people. He loves them, and they love him. They haven’t said it, but he knows.

Brian bites at the eye painted onto his chest, and Justin’s fingers trace over her symbol, spelling out the individual letters: A L A S K A.

He kisses both of Brian’s wrists, the crown and the star.

“That’s Justin,” he says, voice quiet and awed, thumb brushing across the crown. He taps his finger over the blue vein that runs through the star. He’s seen her marks before, but it feels like the first time. “And that’s me.”

He’s never seen Justin’s marks, though, and he remembers the intern from Drag Race telling him they were on her ass. It feels like a lifetime ago, when she didn’t mean anything to him, when he just wanted a gossipy distraction from a beating in his heart so different from the way it vibrates in his chest now.

The intern was right.

There are two lipstick prints: Trixie pink and Katya red.

His heart catches in his throat, and he splays his palm over them, the corner of each mouth peeking out.

“You’ve definitely put on lipstick for the sole person for kissing over this, haven’t you?” he asks.

“Duh.” Brian rolls her eyes, but a smile flirts around her lips.

Justin looks back over her shoulder, lifting herself up on her forearms. “More than once.”

Brian sautés spinach and onion for his omelette, hip resting against the counter and squinting out the window. The smell of coffee permeates the kitchen, and anxiety flutters around his stomach. He knows it’s ridiculous. His mom has been supportive, had even said “I told you so” over the phone when he broke the news. But she didn’t tell him so, and they had bantered back and forth about that before he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, and relenting.

He finishes his omelette, sliding it onto a chipped plate before starting one for his mom.

By the time the front door opens, Brian’s finished breakfast, prepared coffee for his mom and Katya, and avoided putting anything in Alaska’s tea, because she hates it. There were only so many ways he could organize four plates around the kitchen table, and he figured she wouldn’t notice if he dissolved a pinch of sugar in the bitter earl grey. She might actually thank him when it tastes better, so the fact that he didn’t is a huge feat.

“Hi, Mom,” he greets, rushing to the small entryway, kissing her cheek and prying her purse out of her fingers. Alaska lugs her suitcase inside, and Katya reaches behind her to close the door. “How was the flight?”

“Too early.” Her smile is well-worn, the wrinkles around her eyes deeper than the last time Brian saw her. “But half-empty. You didn’t have to spring for business class.”

“It’s the only way I can impress you.”

“Not true! You have two very sweet boyfriends.”

“We are very sweet.” Katya smiles a shit-eating grin, knowing Brian won’t smack her in front of his mother.

“We’re taking her to the dentist after breakfast,” Alaska pipes up.

Brian snorts and rolls his eyes, but he’s pleased by how his mom shifts to smile at her: “Did you get that joke from Brian?”

Katya wheeze-laughs. “Brian wishes he were that funny, Mom.”

“Mom?” Brian’s eyes bug, and he chokes on nothing.

“They’re your soulmates, Brian, they can call me Mom. Even if this one here doesn’t believe in marriage,” she says, pointing at Katya with her thumb. “I’ll let it slide, but only because our court system has yet to figure out how to deal with this universe-approved arrangement. I’ve checked.”

Alaska bites around a smile. Brian knows because she does it a lot, especially with Katya.

His mom peeks over his shoulder, edging around him and heading for the table. “Now, did you make sausage, or am I going to be disappointed?”

“Ah-ha!” Katya says, skipping after her. “He made sausage, because I am your fellow carnivore.”

“See, I knew I liked you for a reason.”

“Not the only carnivore,” Alaska whispers to Brian. “But she doesn’t need to know about last night.”

They all settle around the small table, and Alaska lets his mom try her tea, laughing when she puckers her lips and grimaces. Katya’s knee presses against Brian’s, and she dominates the conversation. Her shoulders are pulled back, she sits up straight, and it’s almost like she’s onstage. She tells an embarrassing story about almost peeing her pants in elementary school, because she didn’t want to draw attention to herself by asking the teacher to use the restroom. His mom counters with the time Brian got carsick and they didn’t have Dramamine, so he vomited all over himself.

It’s appropriately awful.

“I’m trying to eat,” he says.

“Oh, honey,” his mom laughs. “We don’t want you getting sick again.”

Alaska and Katya laugh, but Katya rubs Brian’s thigh, comforting circles that help keep his breathing even.

He’s embarrassed himself more in front of Katya and Alaska than his mom ever could, but the stress comes from somewhere abstract. Katya’s met his mom before, but it’s different this time. This time she’s his future. She and Alaska both are. It feels more important and permanent than anything else in his life. Telling his mom he wanted to wear makeup, put on a dress and perform in clubs was less pressure.

“Is there anything you want to do while you’re here?” Alaska asks his mom.

He shoots her a smile, grateful for the change in topic.

“Hollywood Boulevard! I need to see Bob Hope’s star. And the sign, of course.” His mom hums, finger circling the rim of her mug. “I’ve never seen the ocean before, so that might be fun.”

“You’ve never seen the ocean?” Alaska asks, tone curious but polite, eyebrows furrowed.

“Oh, no. Lake Michigan is the closest I’ve gotten.”

“It’s basically the same thing,” Katya says.

His mom nods. “That’s what I always thought.”

Alaska laughs. “It’s different, too. You’ll feel it when we go. Would you want to see a drag show, too? There’s always a drag brunch on Sundays.”

His mom tilts her head and scrunches her nose, sighing. “No. I don’t think so. Like how coffee isn’t your thing? Drag shows aren’t my thing. I listened to your song, the one about tea, I hated it. Rap is awful, and it was crude.”

Brian can feel Katya’s body vibrating with the urge to laugh, and he knows she and Alaska are going to bring this up constantly for the next six months.

Alaska blinks. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, I once made the mistake of watching the Brians’ show.” She shutters. “Disgusting and nonsensical.”

Katya wheezes, Alaska laughs, and Brian makes a show of banging his head against the table. “Learn some tact, Mom.”

“Why?” she asks. “You don’t have any.”

“Oh my god,” he mutters.

“I see where he gets his sense of humor.” Alaska smiles, bright and winning. “Are mani-pedis your thing, though?”

“Yes! I’d love that. But I don’t want to waste my trip to see you all alone in a salon.”

Alaska’s palm flutters to her chest. She blinks slow and gasps. “I’m getting one.”

“Count me in,” Katya adds.

“Brian?” His mom asks, eyebrows arched knowingly.

“I think … I’ll skip that.”

“You’re always a party pooper, huh?”

He rolls his eyes. “You wouldn’t let me play with dolls as a kid, and now I don’t want to paint my nails pink and it’s a problem?”

Katya leans across the table. “This is better, anyway. You can tell us all of his embarrassing childhood stories without him metaphorically retching over all our fun.”

His mom cackles, and Katya squeezes his knee, sending a wink his way.

He drops his mom off at the airport five days later. She thanks him for a good trip, even though she swears she never wants to come back. “You’ll visit me,” she says, decided.

“You bet.” He smiles.

She grabs his hand, her skin papery and thin, and leans in. “You did good. Brian and Justin. I don’t understand it, but you’re all very happy. It’s right.”

He shrugs. “The marks make sense.”

“Of course. But that’s not what I mean.”

“What do you mean?” He frowns, slouching so he’s shorter, tilting his head. They’re not at eye level, but his mom’s spirit is so tall it feels like they are.

“So many people exhaust themselves trying to find the one, and when they do,” she pauses, holding up her hand. They’ve argued about this before (“There are billions of people in this world. My soulmate’s probably in China.” She had rolled her eyes: “Then you better start learning Chinese.”), but he wasn’t planning on doing it an hour before she gets back on a plane to Wisconsin. “And when they do find them, and they always do, they’re too tired. They’ve made too many other bad choices along the way. It says more about all three of you that you made the right choices to get here than those marks ever did.”

He swallows around the lump in his throat. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime, honey.” She stands on her tiptoes, hugging him tight, rubbing circles into his back. She rests her hand over his heart. “Right here,” she says, accompanied by a single tap. “I’m proud of you.”

He gets home two hours later.

Katya sits on the sofa, chewing on her bottom lip, an astrology book spread over her lap.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“Justin’s packing for his flight, and I’m trying to figure out what part of his star chart means that,” she pauses, raising her voice so Alaska can hear, “he has to throw his clothes all over the floor every single time!”

Alaska emerges from their designated drag room, stringy, orange, shake-and-go wig on her head, a bra hanging off her finger. “If you could just keep to your corner of the room, it wouldn’t be a problem.”

Katya looks down at her book, finger running along the page. “What time were you born again?”

“I don’t know,” she huffs, slinging the bra at Katya.

Brian watches them argue for a moment – about who’s neater (he is, but he doesn’t say that), who does the most cleaning (whoever happens to be home), the value of astrology (he has his doubts) – the fight ending with Alaska texting her mom for information on her birth time and coordinates. Katya thanks her, agreeing to wash her pads before she goes.

“What are you going to do?” Katya asks.

“Huh?”

“Well, Justin’s packing and I’m washing his disgusting ass pads. You need to pull you weight in this relationship.”

He shakes his head in faux disbelief. “I’m agreeing to date two selfish narcissists. What more do you want from me?”

Alaska chuckles, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him into her side. “As if you’re not a selfish narcissist, too.”

“You’re the worst,” Katya says, arm snaking next to Alaska’s, hand finding her belt loop and pulling her closer. “Love you losers.”

“I’m a winner,” Alaska says reflexively. “But, I love you both, too.”

Brian breathes out a laugh. “How did I get so lucky?”

Alaska hums, pressing a kiss to his temple.

Katya answers: “Just lucky, I guess.”

Life gives him not one, but two marks over his heart.

Along with them, he gets the two most annoying, frustrating people he has ever known. Alaska always waits until the last minute to pack, whether it’s for work or for a vacation to Hawaii. She stresses Katya and him out, and it’s almost enough that they refuse to go anywhere with her. She screams bloody murder any time she finds a centipede or silverfish in the bathroom, and cuddles close to Brian at night, latching on and making him too hot. Katya cracks a window open and smokes inside, the scent embedding itself into the furniture and lingering. She refuses to get a pet, arguing there’s never a guarantee any of them will be home to take care of it, and shaking her head when they suggest different pet sitting options. She FaceTimes Alaska and him in the middle of the night, after gigs when she can’t sleep, with no respect for timezones, waking them up and chatting their ears off about nothing and everything.

Brian knows he’s not all that he’s cracked up to be, either: he has the bad habit of leaving just enough in a container – leftover takeout, juice, cereal – that he doesn’t have to throw it out, but not enough for Alaska and Katya to actually enjoy whatever it is. He forgets to put the toilet seat down, and he always interrupts when they’re trying to talk through a problem with him. He asks, and then refuses to listen to their ideas and advice, causing them to roll their eyes and groan. So, he can’t complain too much. Only a little.

Besides, Alaska and Katya are also the best people he has ever known. Alaska never fails to send a text making sure their flights landed safely, even though he and Katya don’t know how she keeps track when she can hardly keep her own schedule straight, and sometimes they don’t even know when they’re going from one city to the next themselves. She updates the grocery list on the fridge without fail, and mumbles cute things in her sleep when she’s overly tired. Katya always senses when either of them need a hug, even if she’s just walked in the door. She doesn’t complain about being the only one who ever takes out the garbage, and she marks passages in books she thinks they might like with post-its, a paragraph about why slanting upward on them.

Every kiss is nice. Little pecks on the corners of mouths when they part, hot, open-mouthed things in the middle of the day because they have time and attraction sparks in their blood, sweet and steady assurances when they laugh at each other, the taste of it soothing any potential hurt.

Brian loves them.

He stands in the archway, bowl of popcorn in his right hand, one can of pop in his left, and the other under his armpit. The menu on the DVD loops, and the lights are off, so Brian strains to see. He watches Alaska and Katya, leaning into each other on the sofa and splitting Oreos in half, Katya eating the side with more frosting. He loves them so much he feels like he might combust, except it’s good. Better than good.

Alaska spots him first, a smile stretching over her mouth. “Hurry up, we miss you.”

Brian rolls his eyes. “I’ve been gone for less than two minutes.”

“Don’t care,” Katya says, patting the spot next to her. “This song is giving me a headache.”

“Yeah, me too,” he agrees with a quiet laugh.

The flame in his chest burns, always reigniting but never fading away, something he can count on to keep him warm and comfortable and safe. A blazing fire he knows, somehow, stupidly, will never burn out.

FIN.

#katlaska #trixya #alaska x katya x trixie #au #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #alaska thunderfuck #perfectlystill #rpdr fanfiction #the kind of dice you throw #canon compliant #poly #rare pair #tw incest joke #tw past drug addiction

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sam-gibbs · 4 years

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Mystery

Here I am going to be looking into the Mystery genre. This includes things such as detective games as well as detective films and tv shows.Being a detective is no easy job and takes a lot of smart thinking in order to be a good way. It is interesting to go ahead and see how people are able to convey this across into films and video games.

LA noire:

La noire is a detective game where you have to use clues as well as your initiative in order to go ahead and solve crimes. In the game there is a unique game mechanic where when interrogating people they can in fact lie to you. Through analysing there body language you have to decipher whether they are lying, bending the truth or are actually telling the truth. Not only can there body movements imply they are lying but whether they say phrases which contradict themselves or if you have evidence which proves them wrong. In these situations you can call them out for lying which in some cases forces them to buckle and eventually tell the truth.

La noire is set in 1947 and contains over 21 mystery cases across 5 different crime desks and 40 street crimes. In the game when travelling around you can indeed get a call over the radio saying there is a crime happening nearby. You can if you wish go to the crime and solve it for instance if it is someone being mugged and the person is running away from the crime scene you can indeed go ahead and chase after them.

In summary LA noire is a game which uses the game mechanics of clues as well as AI body language in order to help the players to solve crimes and be a proper detective.

What makes a good detective game:

I have managed to go ahead and find a really interesting game maker's toolkit video where they talk about what makes a good detective game:

youtube

Firstly they go ahead and talk about a film called Mystic River where 2 detectives go in depth into how they solve the murder case of a young woman.Firstly the detective have to of course gather the information from the crime scene. Any clues which can aid them in finding who has gone and committed the crime.As Well as gathering information from the crime scene they also go ahead and question people who might be involved to the crime.For example in the game LA noire when it comes to evidence collecting they did the game mechanic just fine.They used 3D objects in which you can spin and manipulate in order to see all angles of it.Many detective games also contain dialogue trees for talking to people.These features are always displayed fine inside of video games and it is the next part which is tricky to achieve well when making a video game.The next part is about proving people are lying and gaining new information.Once you have the new information you then need to be able to go forward an connect information together. Finally detectives can make deductions or logical arguments.

Some detective games have tried to turn all of them features into gameplay.However one common simple way of presenting this is through multiple choice questions.This doesn't work very well however due to the fact that the player is prompted by the potential answers which aids them a little too much for some peoples liking.They aren't being left to come up with there own thoughts.

Murdered soul suspect:

The next mystery game I am looking into is murdered soul suspect which is a game which does a good job at making a detective game which is a lot different to others. In this game you unfortunately have died and as a ghost you need to discover who your killer is in order to go ahead and pass on to the afterlife. Unluckily for you your were murdered by a famous masked killer so figuring out who murdered you is indeed a lot harder than we wished it was. One amazing thing about this game is of course you're a ghost which means you are actually able to possess people in order to read their thoughts as well as look at police officers notes. I think the fact of the player being a ghost makes the game a lot more interesting as it adds more unique game mechanics to the game.

Like other detective games people can go ahead and collect clues in order to help solve problems.Throughout the game you can find side problems to solve for instance. You can run into a male ghost who has no clue how he died. You can go ahead and collect clues from nearby in order to figure out how they died. This helps the people move onto the afterlife.Once you have clues collected you then need to go ahead and select the ones which are useful towards your case and are what help solve your problem as some clues are very relevant. If you however chose the wrong clues there is no punishment and are given another attempt to try.

In summary a murdered soul suspect uses its unique game feature of the player being a ghost in order to add different ways of clue collecting as well as side missions in order to make the game feel more unique as well as mysterious.

Murder mystery Parties:

Murder Mystery has always been a fun topic. With films which play on the murder mystery theme as well as board games such as cluedo and the normal murder mystery party. The whole murder mystery genre forces you as a player or audience member to play close attention to little pieces of information in order to go ahead and solve the mystery.

When attending a murder mystery party People are given a character in which they have to play. The player is often required to play the part and dress up as there character in order to make the evening more realistic and detailed. The each player is given a booklet with there alibis as well as voice lines. When it comes to deciding who is murderer it depends on how the murderer is chosen. In some games the murderer is a specific character so if you are given that character then you are the murderer. However in some other murder mystery parties the players pick a piece of paper out of the hat which will say whether they are the murderer or not. Then inside of the character booklets it will have 2 sets on lines and the player must read the correct lines depending on whether they are an innocent or a murderer.

Now I have personally attended a murder mystery party and in all honesty I find them really hard. It only takes missing a small piece of information to take you off track.The games are really well thought out and especially the ones where anyone can turn out to be the murderer. I think one aspect which makes these games hard of course is the fact that they are really long games. Due to players having to play these almost like a dinner party. In the game I played we had a three course meal which of course dragged out the game. This meant that people had easily forgotten informations and although we are given notebooks it is extremely hard to go ahead and write down all the information as it is given to you.The way to win is in all honesty just noticing when people have lied due to the fact that they say stuff which contradicts other stuff they have said.

Cluedo:

Cluedo is a lot easier to play compared to an actual murder mystery party. These games are a lot shorts and it comes down mainly to basic elimination. In the game you have to go ahead and get 3 things right. Who the killer was, what room it was and what weapon they have. At the beginning of the game 1 person card,1 room card and 1 weapon card are taken out of the deck and put in an envelope. This is what the games answer is.Then each player gets a certain amount of cards which will contain information such as rooms, weapons and people. The aim of the game is to basically figure out which person,room and weapon cards are missing from the game.

The game is a lot more easier to play meaning that younger people are more likely to understand the game. It's also the fact that unlike a murder mystery party you don't need loads of people to play. Some murder mystery parties require that you have at least 8 people.Where as in cluedo you can play with a minimum of 2 people.

Knives out:

Knives out is a recent film where they have managed to go ahead and take the theme of Murder Mystery and convey it into a film concept. In the film we follow a detective who is investigating the death of the patriarch of a wealthy dysfunctional family. The film starts with the family of the murder victim going to visit him for his 85th birthday.Unfortunately he is found dead the next day by the housekeeper.Throughout the film the detective manages to find out all of the secrets of the family and is able to start to point out key suspects for the case. He in the end manages to put clues and facts together in order to unveil who the killer is.

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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I Care a Lot: Peter Dinklage is the Scariest Gangster We’ve Seen in Years

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This article contains I Care a Lot spoilers.

J Blakeson’s I Care a Lot is one of very few films where everyone in it is a villain. In the lead role, Rosamund Pike ushers in a new amoral high mark as conservator con artist Marla Grayson. Peter Dinklage meanwhile mines the standard Hollywood heavy role for an unexpected haul of gangster gravitas. And with his turn as Roman Lunyov, the former black sheep of the Lannister family in Game of Thrones joins the likes of Robert De Niro, Marlon Brando, Wesley Snipes, and Humphrey Bogart as memorable cinema crime bosses.

However, this isn’t Dinklage’s first turn in a mob movie. He got his button in Find Me Guilty (2006). The film was based on the true story of Lucchese crime family soldier Jackie DiNorscio, played by Vin Diesel, and the longest mafia trial in American history. The movie was co-written and directed by Sidney Lumet, who not only helmed such crime classics as Dog Day Afternoon and Q&A, but was one of the original Dead End kids when the proto-gangster social drama was still on Broadway. Dinklage didn’t play a mobster in Find Me Guilty. He played a lawyer.

Dinklage’s Lunyov Family isn’t strictly going up against law enforcement in I Care a Lot. Rather Pike’s Marla Grayson and her partner in crime (and life), Fran (Eiza González), are court-appointed guardians from hell, and they represent a rival outfit. They are also operating a lucrative racket.

This guardianship gang war could be seen as similar to the scenarios which happened when Italian, Jewish, and Irish mobs moved in on the Harlem and Chicago numbers games in the 1920s and ’30s. Or how Michael Corleone’s first order of business as head of family in The Godfather was to take over the casinos in Las Vegas. Like Don Vito Corleone before her, Marla’s also got judges, such as the sympathetic Judge Lomax (Isiah Whitlock Jr.), in her pocket. Eldercare racketeering dominance is also comparable to the prohibition fights of The St. Valentine’s Day Massacre, and the body count is just as high. The take is just as sweet.

Edward G. Robinson set the standard for cinematic mob rule as “Rico” Bandello in Little Caesar (1931). Dinklage’s Roman Lunyov, by contrast, is more of a Czar. He heads a family in the Russian mafia and purports himself like a descendant of the Romanov dynasty. But he’s got Cossack in him. It’s in his DNA and cascading down his chin like the tail of a cavalry horse.

On Game of Thrones, Dinklage’s Tyrion Lannister was part of an insidious dynasty whose roots intertwined with every twig of the ruling class. The modern Russian mob, on screen and off, can boast even more branches.

Netflix’s World’s Most Wanted dedicated an episode to Semion Mogilevich, the reputed head of the Russian mob (aka Bratva). While Moglievich is allegedly tied to arms dealing, international trading scams, and countless murders, the cops in the documentary series compare him to the Keyser Söze character from The Usual Suspects. He’s a respected, low-key businessman who likes to smoke. He lives in a mansion next to the head of the Communist Party in Russia. His activities aren’t merely state-sanctioned, they are apparently encouraged.

Dinklage’s Roman is all these things, even as his identity is actually more elaborately guarded than Söze’s, and his tastes run toward elitist’s treats.

But then Russian mobsters are always ruthless on screen. These are the guys who killed Denzel Washington’s seemingly indestructible narco cop Alonzo Harris in Training Day (2001). You never prepare for that. When the “Three Wise Men” who always have your back tell you to skip town, you know you’re dealing with folks in a rough trade. On Netflix’s Orange Is the New Black, Galina “Red” Reznikova (Kate Mulgrew) would rather go to jail for keeping bodies on ice than say she was keeping them fresh for the Russian mafia in Queens.

Dinklage’s big bad leans into this mythic image of Russian mobsters, with Roman appearing cut from the same cloth as the New Jersey-based operators who could make even Tony Soprano take pause in The Sopranos. Albeit if Dinklage’s character ever actually visited the tough guys in the Garden State, he would probably need to rethink his man-bun. After all, Tony Soprano couldn’t even get away with shorts.

When James Cagney had fist fights in his early films, he was always matched with a bruiser twice his size because the studios thought no one in the audience would accept him being remotely challenged otherwise. Dinklage also doesn’t display a traditionally imposing physical presence. But he is no lightweight. His own thugs cower at the very thought of a cross word. In the Lunyov family, it’s best to bring a gun to a food fight.

Roman’s personal attorney almost wets his briefs when he screws up. That’s because Roman is as unpredictable as Cagney’s Cody Jarrett, the gang leader in White Heat, Cagney’s most psychopathic role. Dinklage’s introduction as Roman shows him asking how many mules died on the last drug run. He calculates them coldly, as part of business, with the sociopathology of a Chief Executive Officer. But his biggest similarity can be found in oedipal complexities. Like Cody Jarrett, Roman Lunyov loves his mother.

We don’t know much about Jennifer Peterson, the nice old lady played by Dianne Wiest. She’s got money, a nice house, no living relatives, and a doctor who will exaggerate dementia symptoms in court for a stock payoff. On the surface Peterson seems to be a competent business woman who retired after a successful career. Now under the less than sensitive care at the Berkshire Oaks Senior Living facility, we realize her chosen field was career criminal. After all, any of these sweet old ladies could have had criminally scandalous youths.

When Marla finally asks her ward who she is, all Jennifer has to say is “I’m the worst mistake you’ll ever make.” We learn she has more than one son in the Russian mob. She could be a post-Glasnostic Ma Barker from the Prohibition era. Barker’s fictional approximation in White Heat, Ma Jarrett (Margaret De Wolfe Wycherly) tells her son she can take care of herself. And while Jennifer may have been declared legally unable to do just that in I Care a Lot, she is quite adept at a choke hold, eschewing the standard garrote assassination for her own elbow.

Marla doesn’t romanticize her mother, calling her a psychopath and offering her up as the collateral damage of closing costs. Her single-minded opportunism is more sociopathic than Pike’s Amy Dunne in David Fincher’s adaptation of Gone Girl. She employs a cutthroat logic that’s in the same territories as bad-mannered comedies, but with the ruthlessness of the shark in Jaws.

Roman’s black-on-black dress code ensembles, by contrast, broadcast a desire for stylish power games. Marla is not interested in gangster chic; she prefers classy monochromatic suits so brightly focused they attract moths like flames. Her crew is all business as usual. Dr. Amos (Alicia Witt) is the fixer. She picks the “cherries,” elderly cash cows who can be milked in the retirement home. Sam Rice (Damian Young) is the monster at the center of the center. Everyone’s got a soulless nature except Eiza González’s Fran, who is also the only one to see the wisdom of getting the fuck out of there.

Dinklage is fearsome in one of the scariest screen gangsters in recent years. This guy can dispatch troublesome community angels easier than a creamy éclair pastry–and he loves those treats. He even takes a last loving bite of a chocolate-covered, custard-filled house specialty before he tosses it onto the cold concrete of an underground parking garage.

When he ends negotiations with Marla, his only caveat is to make it look “organic.” Georgia Lyman, who is only credited as “the Assassin,” is I Care a Lot’s Luca Brasi, sharing duties with a few “heavies.” The film’s Fredo is Alexi Ignatyev, played by Nicholas Logan as if he’s always waiting for another shoe to drop. Even Ms. Peterson laughs and calls him an idiot. She laughs a lot, and it’s not just the steady drugs she’s being forcibly and legally dosed with, it’s the glee of power.

Roman’s power lies in his legal team, and the Lunyov family’s Tom Hagen is Dean Ericson (Chris Messina). One thing you have to admit with the Russian mob is they do appreciate innovation and sophistication. Ericson can’t help but be impressed by Marla’s scam. His lowball offer of $150,000 is an insult, but an understandable one. His veiled threats are as subtle as his suits are ostentatious.

Marla doesn’t seem to appreciate the power the Lunyov family wields, but she does appreciate the irony.

“If you can’t convince a woman to do what you want,” she says, appraising the fine print under the mouthpiece’s exploratory offer, “then you call her a bitch and threaten to kill her.” Marla pays it forward by calling the Lunyov matriarch far worse and threatening extreme discomfort, which she promises will last until the day she dies. As restrained as her venom may be, Marla is a proud femme fatale. Though also a stereotypical “ice queen” villainess, and heartless materialist. We’re almost sorry to feel bad for Marla when she is tied to a chair during last minute negotiations.

Director Blakeson, who made the science fiction action movie The 5th Wave and the noir thriller The Disappearance of Alice Creed, sets up I Care a Lot like a horror movie.

“There’s no such thing as good people,” Marla Grayson says at the start of the film. The opening is exquisitely unsettling as Jennifer is guided through a process of enforced institutionalization, followed by her house being emptied, painted, placed on the market, and sold. The plot thickens as keys are traced to a safety deposit box containing millions of dollars’ worth of diamonds, which officially don’t exist. Most gangster films aren’t driven by this kind of mystery, but Roman is a new kind of gangster. Though cheap, dead drug-mules are an unnecessary expense, the Lunyov family want to make a difference in the world.

Blakeson wanted to highlight all-too true stories of elder abuse and the perils of court-appointed conservators which could even bring The #FreeBritney movement calling. But he captures the allure of the anti-hero and the all-American dream of a corner on the market. Roman Lunyov has one final thing in common with Michael Corleone, and many of the traditional gangsters: He wants to earn money legitimately. This is not to be confused with wanting to go legit.

Those of us who root for the “bad guys” will find a wealth of insidious characters, and a very original caper, at the heart of I Care a Lot. Peter Dinklage’s Roman Lunyev may go against type, with his eastern bloc nobility stunted by the limits of black comedy. But as a movie mob boss, he is Street Regal.

I Care a Lot can be streamed on Netflix.

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howtobesinglela-blog · 7 years

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A Story of a Fangirl and Her Mental Health

I can recall the exact time in my life where I experienced my first bought of clinical depression. I was thirteen years old. I walked out of my house one night and walked down my street completely dazed. My best friend was my neighbor and saw me from her office window and ran out to ask me what was wrong. I couldn’t tell her. I didn’t even know. I had gone from feeling every emotion to absolutely none at all. I didn’t even know what I was doing outside. It was like a switch had been clicked off inside me and I shut down. My grades started slipping because I couldn’t pay attention in class. My guidance counselor regularly found me curled up in a ball under her desk hiding. She never got me in trouble for it. She’d simply pull out her chair, sit down and wait for me to talk. I never saw a doctor or was diagnosed because the circumstances in my life at that time made a sad kid make sense. My grandmother was terminally ill. My mother was in beginning stages of menopause and didn’t even recognize herself. My brother was battling his own demons. My father had not figured out yet how to be a father that did anything other than pay the bills and sit quietly at the end of the table. I was brutally mentally and physically abused daily by my peers at school. Of course I was sad. But this wasn’t sadness. This was nothing. I felt nothing.

The only time I felt anything was when I put on my headphones and pressed play on my Backstreet Boys or NSYNC CD. I didn’t know these boys and they didn’t know me, but loving them made me immensely happy. It gave me a freedom and safety that I couldn’t let go of. I’d spend hours watching their music videos and MTV specials. I’d obsessively set my VCR to record TRL anytime they were on. It made getting through the day easier knowing at the end of it I’d get off the bus and be able to race home and sit on my couch and be taken away.

Boy Bands became my anti-depressant. Sappy and cheesy and catered to appeal to the raging new hormones of early pubescent girls like myself. The dopamine in my brain went wild. It bonded me for life to my best friend of twenty years. We’d pour over magazines and dress like them and pretend to be them in her living room, trading off who got to be Nick or Justin just because they got the most solos. We weren’t hurting anyone, yet anytime I went to school in a BSB t-shirt my day was made exponentially worse by my peers. My simple enjoyment of something was ammo to ridicule me and tear me apart further. It conditioned in me to be ashamed of innocent enjoyment.

When my depression waned when I started high-school, my need to constantly be enveloped in pop music did as well. I still enjoyed it but it didn’t take up my time. I didn’t need it to feel. I was happy. Still, whenever “I Want You Back” came on the radio, my nostalgia would trigger all of those sensors in my brain that would flood me with happiness. Through my mental stability I found gratitude for the music I found solace in.

I hit my second round of depression in college. I regularly slept less than three hours a night. I couldn’t function in social environments so I rarely left my apartment. I’d curl up on my bathroom floor near vomiting with my desperation to breathe. I was rushed to the emergency room at all times of the night because I was convinced I was having a heart attack. Instead of feeling nothing, this time I felt everything all at once and it was crushing me. I was barely capable of getting dressed and to class. Graduating—with honors no less—was a miracle in and of itself. This time, there was no logical reason for my sadness. My family was well. I was a new aunt. I lived in a gorgeous high rise in downtown Chicago with my best friend. I had a hilarious group of friends. I was a talented writer getting daily feedback from authors and peers. Yet I was a complete mess. This time, I was diagnosed with clinical depression and general anxiety and started to see a therapist that changed my life. But in the meantime…there was the Jonas Brothers.

Three brothers with curly hair and tight pants doing backflips on stage that were catered towards a demographic ten years my junior but I didn’t care. If I found myself in my apartment sobbing uncontrollably for no reason and unable to get off the couch, hitting play made that calm in four minutes or less. Now there was YouTube and laughing at their ridiculous antics would numb me for hours. I admittedly watched a video of Joe Jonas trying to open a chocolate bar while wearing a helmet far too many times and laughed every time. Again I bonded with a newly found best friend over them. We got to be childish and silly and we’d sit up well into the night watching videos and scrolling the internet.

My nephew was young at the time and the first time I pressed play on “Burning Up”, his little legs went wild. I had a common ground with him that made him excite with the thought of getting to spend time with me. He’d knock his little fist on my bedroom door when I stayed with my parents and ask for me to play music and we’d dance around in absolute bliss. He didn’t know how to hurt yet and for the time being, neither did I. When I came out the other side of that period in my life, again I found myself letting that go but feeling immensely grateful to those idiotic three brothers (who I still believe are wildly underrated).

My third round found me in LA after packing up my life and moving across the country away from my family for the first time in my twenty-four years of life. I wasn’t having any luck finding a job. I was broke and alone and the feeling of worthlessness defeated me. I rarely got out of my pajamas or opened the blinds. But then came the boy band I will always feel the most grateful for. These five British floppy untrained puppies who gave more to me than I can express.

One Direction.

Two weeks into listening to Up All Night on repeat I was showering daily, working out, job hunting and singing on the top of my lungs. Over the course of those three years battling on and off with my depression and an eating disorder that made me constantly forget to feed myself and dropped my weight to 97lbs, I met some of the funniest most amazing women I could have ever dreamed to meet. I made memories one summer as I went to seven different shows that I could never replace. I danced in parking lots with strangers. I spent four days straight at the Staples Center laughing harder than I’ve ever laughed with my best friend and a new friend I had made through the band while we danced to their music. I shared a hat with Harry Styles and a conversation that made me internet famous for a day. I got to take my nephew to his first concert ever and watch as he burst into tears at the sight of them and shook with happiness. I healed slowly while laughing so hard tears streamed down my face. I became the friend my friends went to to indulge in their “guilty pleasures.” We’d sit in onesies and watch videos and shout at the screen at how adorable these idiots were. On the days when I couldn’t stand to eat or get dressed or go outside, they coaxed that tightness from my chest. I made friends with someone from across the world who I’ve shared road trips and concerts and memories with over the last three years. As silly as others found it, the memories and people they gave me are irreplaceable. They didn’t make me whole, but they eased the pain long enough for me to get there myself.

So when I found myself newly diagnosed with PTSD after witnessing the slow and agonizing death of my beautiful strong father and I found I couldn’t feel anything anymore. I didn’t even feel like a person. I didn’t find it that surprising when YouTube showing me a random video of Shawn Mendes sparked that familiar feeling of nostalgia and safety and happiness that had become a pattern for me. Hit depression, find a cute boy with catchy songs to hold my hand through it.

It is how I cope and I make no apologies for it. If watching videos of boys that remind me of when I was happy and safe helps me in anyway, there’s no shame in that. I’m hurting no one. Yet it never ceases to amaze me how often others feel the need to comment on it. To belittle me and make me feel pathetic for it. To judge how I choose to cope with my mental health and the methods I use to feel even artificial happiness.

I hurt no one liking these things, yet others feel the need to hurt me for liking it. For what reason? Because they’ve decided it’s lame? Because they think they’re too good for it? People have been vile towards me and taken any opportunity they can to shred me for having a simple innocent pleasure. They have no idea what they’re doing is ripping the doors off my safe house. They’re huffing and puffing and blowing my house down for no other reason than entertainment to shame me for happiness. For enjoying something they think I’m too old for. Even when I was the “right” age for it, I was tormented for it.

What is it about pop music and boy bands particularly that makes people so vile towards the fans? What is wrong with girls and women and boys singing pointless love songs and dancing in their bedrooms without worry? Where did you become so jaded as a human being that you have to tear apart others for what makes them feel happy and safe? Do these people think they only like things other people like? That there’s nothing in their lives they take an excessive interest in that others would find pointless but that they thoroughly enjoy?

My brother is obsessed with Star Wars. He wears Star Wars merchandise. Drinks from Star Wars mugs. Reads the books, sees the films over and over. Builds custom light sabers in his garage. He’s nearly six years older than me. I love that. I love that part of him is still that attached to something he’s loved since childhood.

My mother is still every bit the fangirl who happily sits on the couch watching YouTube videos of my latest pop crush and sings every word to their songs and shakes her adorable butt around to their music and asks me to take her to shows. In those moments she’s sixty going on sixteen and we are without shame and happy. Two months after burying my father, I sat on the couch watching her and my niece and nephew dance and sing at the top of their lungs to One Direction. It was the first time I’d seen them smile and sing since he’d passed. It was a moment I treasure. I had never felt more grateful than in that moment when for four minutes, the man they loved more than anything wasn’t gone and they were free to express joy.

I am a fangirl. Always have been, always will be. It is my solace and my escape. It is my safe house. It is not the dirty word others have made it. I am not a groupie who has deluded themselves into thinking they’re going to be with them or who stalks their every move. I listen to their music. I watch their videos. I go to their shows. It is how I cope with my mental health until I am capable of overcoming it. When I have children I will be my mother, dancing with them in the living room and singing every song and holding them up to see every second at their concerts. And I’ll love it just as much as them. When their friends complain that their parents hate their music and tease them for liking it, my kids won’t be able to relate. I get to be the cool mom, just like my mom had been for my friends. I get to be part of those memories that they’ll never forget or replace.

I feel bad for the people who punish and ridicule others for loving something so trivial.

Let your children sing-a-long without shame.

Let your friends indulge in something nostalgic.

Let your mom dance and feel like a teenager again.

You never know if your comments are taking something from them they need greatly just to get out of bed in the morning. Loving boy bands and pop stars doesn’t make me mentally unwell. Loving boy bands and pop stars, if anything, greatly aids my mental health in a positive direction.

I am a fangirl. Happily.

#mental health #depression #anxiety #fangirl #one direction #jonas brothers #shawn mendes #backstreet boys #nsync #harry styles #niall horan #louis tomlinson #zayn malik #liam payne #joe jonas #nick jonas #jobros

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a-mist-in-the-trees · 7 years

Text

My Favorite Beauty and the Beast Things

Review: Beauty and the Beast (2017)

· Note: will update this once it comes out on DVD and I can add gifs.

· To start off, I genuinely think this is the best Disney remake yet, it keeps the heart and best moments of the original while improving the story, developing the characters even more and making it its own with a few new moments.

· It's always difficult adapting an originally animated feature into live-action, technicalities and such that are sometimes impossible since you can do literally anything in animation and it's rarely questioned. In addition, this is a fairy-tale, logic and reality isn't 100% there. So some random character tendencies are glossed over a bit. They really improved the overall story with filling in a few plot-holes, little details that wouldn't have made sense in a live-action version. They brought a good measurement of realism while still keeping the beloved enchantment of the original. Adam was given a little more a back story, as well as Belle, and brought alittle bit more weight of the impending curse by taking away everyone's humanity if all had failed.

· The opening was very orchestrated and well-narrated in explaining some of the plot holes away, but I still prefer the stain glass, it was so beautiful with David's gentle voice narrating. Although, it was nice actually seeing it play out. <3

· Audra McDonald is queen. Right next to Julie Andrews.

· The enchantress just barging in cause it's odd that a prince would answer his own door. A+ to Stephen Chbosky & Evan Spiliotopoulos.

· I loved how even in the beginning of the film, we don't see Adam's real face until the end with Belle, with all that rococo make up and such. Just beautiful details.

· The script was very well written, with its foreshadowing and subtleties especially.

· I didn't know about anyone besides a few cast members (Emma, Josh and Luke) so it was ever a surprise when I saw Stanley and Audra at the beginning and Ewan and Ian at the end. :)

· "....athletically inclined."

· I understand the criticism with Emma's voice being "auto tuned." I personally wouldn't say auto tuned, maybe a little too unnaturally polished but I would give her some slack. She's not a professional singer, it's just softer in comparison to Paige O'Hara's Broadway experience. I do think it was better than having another singer on top of her acting, although debatable as that is, I think that would've been less well-received than what she gave us.

"Busy?" "...No."

· "It is love we must hold onto / Never easy, but we try."

· I like the addition that Belle is an inventor, it really adds a good sweetness and endearment to her and Maurice's relationship and it doesn't overshadow her character as a whole. She still mostly loves books.

· The placement of belle and her father's house was a little odd though, just in the middle of the square like that, I'm sure Gaston wasn't the only one to step on her cabbages, accidentally of course.

· "...his little wife. UGH!"

· I loved the small addition of Maurice getting Belle a rose, that's a nice nod to the original version of the tale by Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont and it does come back around more logically when Belle takes Maurice's place in the dungeon.

· Even the wolves felt more like their own characters, I really love the theory that they are the castle guards.

· Oh my gosh, the castle was so ridiculously rococo, I couldn't stand it! <3

· "Forget you? Everything I am is because of you."

· Emma's Belle was very well-done. In her acting, she brought a bold confidence to Belle. She's a lot more assertive in her actions and of course, headstrong, in addition to Belle's kindness and bravery that we all know and love.

· I was very surprised how Belle replacing her father in the dungeon scene was written, it was very different but I won't say better and I'll explain why. I liked how different they were, again partially separating itself from the original but still paying tribute to it. LA: Belle is more physical in her sacrifice, pushing Maurice out of the cell whereas A: Belle was more decisive and made a deal and gave her word that she wouldn't leave. That took a lot of courage and I'm not preferring one over the other because that's impossible, just acknowledging how different the two are even while they're the same character. I guess, I relate more to A: Belle's decision making where LA: Belle's quick-witted actions I look up to. Because of how that scene was orchestrated, it also bleeds into the differences of LA: Belle beating Lumiere with a stool and devising a plan to escape as soon as she got to her room and A: Belle making a deal and being given a tour by the beast on the way to her room as sad as she is. I feel like the original made more sense in that regard, but that's just me.

· Love how Belle asks him to come into the light and he doesn't so she brings the light to him.

· "Forever can spare a minute."

· I loved that the feather duster was also an enchanted flying bird, that was a beautiful and elegantly magical surprise.

· The effects of the magic mirror were a little too small which made it look weird to me.

· I felt that Be Our Guest was a little too focused on Lumiere and explosive with him flipping and dabbing everywhere (yeah, I caught that), just not as colorful as the original, but I do understand with how much detail they put into the set and costume design that an exact replica might've been too expensive to animate, which fits since it's not meant to be a carbon copy of the original anyway. · As much as I would've loved to see Human Again in the live action version, Days in the Sun was incredible. Plus that would be a lot of enchanted objects to render.

· "Days in the sun / Where my life had barely begun / Will I have leave you?"

"How in the midst of all this sorrow / Can so much hope and love endure."

· "I can feel a change in me. I'm stronger now, but still not free."

· All the little subtleties really made this remake shine.

· I was a little disappointed that the "Gaston trio" all looked the same and didn't have their different colored dresses but never mind... ;) and the girls do have their own individual patterns in you look close enough.

· I was surprised that Gaston actually went with Maurice to see about the beast, he did start off as an okay guy...but then he ties him up...

· "You need to help me. You need to stand."

· "...Okay, I'm older."

· The addition of the enchanted book was interesting, but aside from helping with belle's back-story more, felt a little unnecessary or just one too many magical items given by the enchantress. (She really wanted to torture the beast, didn't she?) But I do like that it was a nod to the Enchanted Christmas sequel where Belle gives Beast a book. :3 I still love the song Stories so much and the animation!!!

· "These were the borders of my life / In this crumbling, dusty attic / Where an artist loved his wife / Easy to remember, harder to move on / Knowing the Paris of my childhood is gone."

· "Let's go home." ...and then he just melts. :3

· I never thought the addition of the back-story for Belle's mother and how Beast acts (his mother as well) would affect the tale so beautifully. It never crossed my mind how much of a deeper connection that would establish for the two of them until that scene with the book came on screen. Just beautiful writing, I can't say anymore without crying. (Trust me, I've cried enough over the perfection of this movie already.)

· One of my favorite scenes: The Beast and Belle eating dinner and reading their books together at the table like they're already married. Just...happy sigh. :3

· Chip is adorable, I liked that they gave him an older voice.

· Josh Gad was brilliant as always.

· Luke Evan's Gaston was well executed and just not in looks. (Points to Lucy Bevan for casting!) I liked that they gave him alittle more depth as well, with being in the war and a little more cruel than in the original, again bringing more realism and makes him more grounded as a true villain..or just a monster as Belle said.

· They even made Lefou a more prominent character than just the villain's sidekick I love it so much! He had such a redemption arc and realized HE can do better than Gaston. ;-)

· "There's a beast running wild, there's no question / But I fear the wrong monster's released." I like this too much. Chills.

· "We don't like what we don't understand / In fact, it scares us / And this monster is mysterious at least." Wow.

· Belle and Adam's relationship was well fleshed out more. They have such adorable banter! It was brilliance. I loved how they related to each other through books. It creates a better basis for their relationship. Even though I also love how belle taught beast how to read, they're just two different types of relationships. Good relationships, but different.

· He just gives Belle an entire library because he doesn't like her taste in books! Like oh my gosh, Adam... you beast.....wait.

· As much as I loved the library scene in the LA version, I can't get over how sweet the original is, just look at how happy the beast is because she's happy! :3

· The emphasis on the Beast's very expense education and him being widely read does well in this version making him relate easier to belle and makes more sense in general I guess but I would argue for the sake of the original, which does have the 10 years stamp on it, that the Beast even said himself in Human Again that it's been so long since he's last read anything. If the last time he did read was when he was still human at 10-11 with how much of a despair and depression he fell into after being cursed, I would say it's understandable and it helps him and Belle form a connection with her patiently teaching him. How to read and fall in love.

· "I never thanked you for saving my life." I love this line cause of how much it can have a double meaning.

· "I saw her in the ballroom and said we should have a dance tonight, I'd never imagined she'd say yes!" HAHA! AWWW!!! :333333

· I see nothing wrong with the dress, it was beautiful. It flowed very nicely and I loved in the scene, the animation of the golden flecks being added to the hem. That ear cuff was dope too.

· As much as I love you Emma Thompson, I'm sorry but you don't hold a candle to Angela Lansbury. But you still did very nicely. :)

· "Can anyone be happy if they aren't free?"

· One thing that bothered me a bit was how it seemed they made Belle feel so bad whenever she tried to leave the castle, even towards the end with her father. Like, really? That never felt like an issue in the original.

· All of Evermore. Thank you Alan Menken, and Dan Stevens.

· "Waiting here, fore evermore..." and the long zoom out with the last shot being Belle riding away still in her dress and then sudden black and the ORCESTRA! :D So perfect.

· “I set her free. I’m sorry I couldn’t do the same for all of you.”

· WHY DID MISS POTTS TAKE AWAY THE BEAST LINE AT THE END!!! IT WAS SO POWERFUL, EVEN IF WE ALREADY KNOW HE WAS SUPPOSED TO SAY "BECAUSE I LOVE HER", UGHHHH!!

· I prefer Gaston using a knife instead of a gun when fighting Beast, the stab was more imitate. Also, three gun shots, geez!

· The ending was a little off to me. I kept waiting for Belle is say I love you and then the last petal fell and everyone froze but the enchantress just waltz in and is like "I'll just fix everything now." Like, what?! I thought they were going to pull an evil frozon-hans card and just leave it there but whatever. I don't know...maybe I'm ruminate over it a little more but that's just how I feel about it at the moment.

· [From: destielydia.tumblr.com: You know what I LOVE about the transformation scene? Adam waits for Belle to come to him. He just stays where he stands, he stays still because he doesn’t want to scare her. She is the one who takes the first step because he still gives her a chance to go away. That’s how much he respects and loves her. But you can see everything in his eyes - how much he wants to finally touch her gently with his real human hands, finally, and not to be worried about hurting Belle. His eyes have some true excitement in them and love and I’m crying I love Adam and Belle."]

I love this as well, it’s a wonderful parallel to the dance scene when Belle offers her hands to him and lets him come to her.

· I think Emma did wonderfully originating her role as Belle. Paige O'Hara and Susan Egan gave their blessings so if you didn't like her, go enjoy the original animated feature.

· Ewan, you stole my heart at Moulin Rouge! So you were golden..or is he brass?

· "How would you feel about growing a beard?"

· Oh my, that growl...I can just imagine how many dirty fanfiction is written based on that moment.

· The addition of the new songs were wonderful. :)

· The costume and set design was just magnificent and so beautifully detailed, I have no other words.

· Also I'd like to point out how wonderful it is there are two interracial couples in this movie with at least three more movies featuring them coming out this year. Yay.

· Why is no one talking about Belle's wedding dress at the end though?! It's so beautifully and simply white with all the freakin' roses on it!!?!!?!!?!

· As for a note on the gay moment at the end, I am so happy that all I saw previewed for this before seeing it in theaters was the teaser trailer cause they blew it way out of proportion. I mean, it's pretty obvious that LeFou is gay right from the beginning, the Stanley moment was cute and funny and then the literal 3-second moment that brought them together was cute. That's all I have to say.

· Personally, some of the minor continuity errors that people analyzed from the original, I didn't give a whole lot of attention to because it's simply a fairy tale. (how belle lifted the beast onto her house after being attacked, why the villagers didn't know they have a cursed prince, the Eiffel Tower, etc.) That's almost like saying, "oh, why is Tarzan riding a high wheeler in the jungle? That's so impractical!" It's just a form of imagery for the scene but I digress and in spite of that, the corrections really improved the characters and helped form a complete story.

· I love how they brought Celine Dion back to sing an end credits song, it's so nice. :)

· Even the end credits are stunning!

I just really hope they reconsider not keeping the songs in the Mulan remake. Even if, as Chris Weitz said [http://www.hypable.com/disney-cutting-songs/], it is easier to do animated musical Disney movies, the new Beauty and the Beast proved that you can do it and do it well. Which is more than I can say for the Cinderella remake they did in 2015. The casting was spot on but if you take away what made the original the classic that it is, it won't be received kindly.

#beauty and the beast #2017

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