#it’s just funny when people aren’t familiar with the geography

[parkakeet]

when the bitches in the fanfic are on a road trip and go see some shit that’s several hours apart in one day. time travel real confirmed.

[avengershumanresources]

blood 12 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, smut, adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 11 - part 13

Masterlist

Chapter Playlist (GUESS WHO FINALLY FIGURED OUT THE PLAYLIST ISSUE)

12 - a memory

You’d been in the tunnels hundreds, if not, thousands of times in your life. There were very few places you were positive you could navigate blindly, but these caves and tunnels? Someone could take away every sense you had and you’d still be able to find your way home. 

It was a little unsettling bringing Loki into your secret place. Very few people knew of the natural caves that fed into manmade tunnels (carved by your ancestor, Richard Stark, when he settled the land). 

In fact, you could only think of four people, including yourself, who could navigate the paths without becoming lost. 

There was you, Natalia (who’d originally shown you), James, and Stephen. 

Not even Peter was privy to the knowledge of these cavernous paths, covered in old magic and fake tunnels. 

The cave system was incredible. It was naturally occurring and if the history you’d dug up with Stephen was accurate, your ancestor had purposely selected the land for that reason. They were enhanced with this very action in mind. 

To reclaim the castle by surprise if an antagonistic force overtook it. 

Stephen once mentioned that history often repeated itself, but you liked to think it was more of a mimicry of the past. Similar, but never the same. 

King Richard Stark the First never dealt with any serious threats to his reign. He lived a long life, had many children with his beloved wife, and died a very old man with his family at his bedside. 

His son, however, King Emil Stark, faced many problems in his short reign. He was nearly murdered by his own brother, but escaped the plot using these very tunnels. 

Later, he took back the castle with regional support and a surprise caravan of soldiers marched through one of the larger sections of the cave system. 

You’d assumed and so had Stephen, when you’d read about the tale, that Richard had only told his eldest son. Why else had he been able to catch the younger brother by surprise? 

But why had Richard only told one son? 

Emil took the knowledge to his grave, but one of the soldiers had a son, who went with his father long after the battle to explore. That son had another son, and so on until one day, a red haired daughter was born. 

That daughter was caught sneaking bread from the kitchens and when you protected her and gave her extra food, she taught you. 

It was a funny thing, time. Cyclical, ever changing, but in the end, the fates would do as they pleased. How these tunnels led Nat into your life. How these tunnels have you freedom to explore and learn the land around you. How these tunnels brought the most important person into your life. 

(—)

The first time you met Stephen Strange, you were sixteen years old. 

By that point, you’d scared off almost every Master who’d passed the threshold of your castle. Some complained you asked too many questions, others tried to restrict knowledge of the dark and dastardly from you, one insisted a princess was to be simple minded and obedient.

That was the last one you’d chased off after casually bringing the fact up during dinner and letting Pepper deal with the rest. 

This was long before Morgan. This was when Peter was still a little boy and you were a girl still trying to figure out your place in a world that didn’t value or respect you.  

The first time you met Stephen Strange was ten days before he was due to arrive, officially.

You hadn’t known it was him at first. He’d been sitting in the woods on a stump, reading a book on local geography when you passed him on your way back to the tunnels that threaded their way through the forest to the castle. You and Natalia had spent the last few years wreaking havoc on the guard, slipping away without a word, only to reappear in a pub later that night. 

You noted the odd fellow, out of place in the massive woods but not entirely unexpected and paused to do a double take. 

“What are you reading?” 

He peered up from his book, a brow quirked in her direction. 

“What?” 

You took a few steps closer. He didn’t seem to be carrying any weapons. Though Natalia would later reprimand you for being too trusting of strangers. 

“What are you reading?” you repeated, having read the title and still wondering why someone would spend a beautiful afternoon such as that one, in the forest, alone, reading a book on geography. 

“A book on geography,” he answered, folding the tome half shut and pointing a finger to the cover. “Geo-graph-y.”

He recited the word slowly, as if you couldn’t understand reading or letters. 

“I know what it says,” you huffed, a little indignant at his tone. Did you look like some lowly peasant who couldn’t read? Glancing at your clothes you frowned. A simple frock.

Oh. Maybe you did. 

“Why are you all the way out here?” you asked again, a little irritated when he went back to the book and ignored her. 

“It’s quiet,” he lowered the book again, staring at you over the edge of the pages. “Or rather it was.”

“No one passes through here, usually,” you hummed, glancing around. “It’s a bit depressing though, isn’t it? The trees are blocking all of the sun.”

“I don’t need sunlight,” he stated cryptically and you noted his distinct robes of blue. 

Kamar-Taj. 

“Are you a sorcerer?” you asked, settling across from him on a mossy rock and leaning forward. “You’re a little young aren’t you?” 

“I’m eighteen,” he shot back sharply. “I’ve been training my whole life. That’s considered more than experienced at this point.”

“So you are a sorcerer,” you confirmed with a sly smirk. “They’re getting a new Master Sorcerer up at the castle soon. Maybe you know him? Master Strange?” 

If he knew the name, he made no indication and instead let out a long sigh, standing and closing his book. 

“Never heard of him,” he replied curtly. “If you’ll excuse me.”

He started to move toward one of the paths in the forest, but you caught up to him and followed closely behind. 

“Why were you out here?” you asked curiously, trodding behind in the footprints he left behind. 

“I told you, for peace,” he stated, a little exasperation to his tone. 

Maybe that’s why you couldn’t hold a Master at the castle for very long, they frowned on questions and maybe Kamar-Taj taught them all to be sticks in the mud. 

“You’re reading a book on geography,” you repeated. “Local geography if I recall?”

Your eyes fell on the book in his hand and he immediately shoved it to his chest, blocking it from view and continuing his path. 

“You’re certainly not from around here,” you continued musing, plucking a flower from a nearby plant and twirling it between your fingers. He stopped and looked over at her. 

“How can you tell?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Your accent is a little off,” you noted with a little chuckle. “It sounds like it’s from the border, where Kamar-Taj is located.”

“I was in Asgard,” he countered and you shrugged. 

“Just to visit I’m sure,” you insisted and he didn’t reply. You twirled the flower again, giving it a small sniff. “I’m betting you were looking for the caves, weren’t you?” 

His irritated expression fell and you walked up, tucking the flower behind his ear and grabbing his wrist. 

“Here’s the thing, I’ve read that book and it’s ridiculously outdated and inaccurate,” you continued, pulling him back the direction you just came. “You see, Richard Stark, the son of Arthur Stark the Conqueror, had this whole region charted when he sought to build his fortress.”

“Yes, and this book is that report,” the boy insisted quickly and you laughed, much to his annoyance. “Why would he have built the castle if the report was inaccurate?”

“There was an accurate report at some point,” you explained, reaching and snatching the book up. You flipped through the pages until you found the section on the cave systems. “There’s a little truth to this, some of the tunnels are accurate but the entrances are all wrong.”

“But given the layout of the land-,” he protested and you shook your head.

“Just follow me,” you led the way past the stump he’d been sitting on toward the mouth of one of the well memorized tunnels into the castle. “They can go on for miles, so you have to be careful.”

“How do you know?” he challenged, sizing you over. 

You paused. The tunnels were a closely guarded secret between you and Natalia, whose late father had passed the knowledge down to her. Aside from the serious security risk, you knew nothing of this boy or his past. So you stayed vague. 

“I’ve explored them a few times,” you answered casually, hopping down into one of the smaller openings and calling for him to follow behind. 

The two of you spent a few hours exploring areas even you hadn’t been familiar with. He pointed out a few magic runes, explaining their meaning as best he could (some were completely foreign to both of you) and not looking too annoyed when you peppered him with questions. 

“Are you noble?” he finally asked when you walked him from the structure back toward the forest. “You’re very well read.”

“I like books,” you answered with a smile. “My father taught me to read at a young age and I never stopped.”

It was a half answer and a full truth, satisfying enough for him because he nodded.

“I’m in town for a few more nights,” he looked hesitant, clearing his throat nervously. “If you’d like to stop by the inn?” 

Excitement sparked in your chest. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” you promised, a big grin on your face that was decidedly not very ladylike. “Who should I ask for?” 

“Stephen,” he replied. “Ask for Stephen.”

(—)

“I can feel Amora’s magic,” Loki stated, pausing in the tunnel and looking around. “How certain are you of those wards?” 

Stephen’s hand reached and lightly touched one of the intricately carved runes in the tunnel wall. He paused, his expression moving from its usual frustration in failing to recognize the pattern to surprise. 

“They never faltered when I tried experimenting,” he assured the prince. 

“And many Master Sorcerer’s before you have tried completely sealing the castle,” you added, finally lowering your hood to look between the men. “It’s impossible. The runes are very old magic.”

Loki said something, but you didn’t hear him, instead you were taken by surprise when Stephen turned and flipped the amulet around your neck around to study the runes carved into the back. 

“By the Gods,” he murmured, holding it up to the wall. “It’s seidr.”

You looked between the two symbols. Nearly identical with a few alterations, likely given a difference between the spells, but the base characters were perfect copies. 

“Impossible, seidr was eliminated before this castle was built,” Loki insisted. “My grandfather completed the task and died before Arthur Stark even dreamed of this land.”

“It’d explain why traditional magic can’t touch it,” you pointed out. 

“And why you can navigate the cave system so flawlessly,” Stephen reminded you. “We’ve found wings and sub-tunnels that defy geological principals…”

“Then it’s a promising omen,” Loki stated firmly. “We continue on with our task, remove Amora and reclaim the kingdom.”

(—)

“I can’t stay for long,” you explained a few days after your initial meeting. The ball to celebrate the new sorcerer was that evening and your maid had been nagging you all morning about getting a proper bath and dressing done for the event. 

She’d heard the sorcerer was quite the looker. 

Gods if you cared.

“I’m due to leave tonight as well,” he replied quietly. “I wanted to give you something to remember me.”

He handed you a book, “The Complete History of the Vanir Valley”.

“I might have uh, borrowed it from Kamar-Taj before I left,” he explained sheepishly. “It’s a very good book and it mentions this region and some of the more ancient history involved with it. Given your knowledge of the geography and geology…”

You clutched the book to your chest, absolutely moved by the young man’s kind gesture. Despite only knowing him a little over a week, you’d come to respect and enjoy his company on your adventures. He’d even met Nat, who admitted she enjoyed his sharp wit and jokes- a rare acknowledgment by the hardened thief.

“Do you have to go?” you asked quietly. “There’s so much more to explore…”

“I’m due to report to my next assignment,” he kicked at a nearby stick. “I’ll write. You live near the village? I’ll send a raven when I arrive.”

“I’ll miss you, Stephen,” you mumbled, trying to blink back a few tears. This stupid boy was the first person who hadn’t looked at you and completely rejected your intelligence. He listened and discussed philosophy and magic and history and science and…

He was leaving. 

“Our paths will cross again, I’m sure,” he stated with a curt nod, pausing, unsure what to do with himself. He settled on leaning in and pressing a quick peck to your cheek, his face burning bright red when he pulled away. “Goodbye.”

He murmured your name like a soft prayer before starting back down the pathway toward the village. 

The entire time you knew him, Stephen never admitted if he knew you were the princess the whole time or if it had taken him by surprise as well. 

But the moment you saw him enter the ball room, you had to hold onto a nearby table to stop yourself from tumbling forward in shock. 

Master Stephen Strange. 

“You didn’t tell me you were the new Master,” you challenged, catching him by the elbow once introductions had been made and he was mingling between rounds of dancing. You guided him toward the edge of the room, ignoring the incredulous looks and whispers being shot in your direction.

“You didn’t tell me you were the princess,” he countered, a smirk on his lips, eyes wandering toward the dancers moving across the floor. 

“You already knew, you must have,” you narrowed your gaze suspiciously at him. “‘Our paths will cross again’, that was nonsense then?” 

“Would you like to dance?” he offered an arm, already pulling you toward the dance floor. You relented, continuing to badger him while he hummed and didn’t directly acknowledge your accusations.

“Admit it, you knew!” 

“The roasted duck is incredibly tender, is that a regional recipe or how the ducks are bred?” 

“The cook marinates it for two days,” you answered briefly. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Your father mentioned your last Master called you simple?” 

“In so many words.”

“Their loss is my gain, I have a phenomenal collection of books you can read if you’d like.”

“I’m not letting this go,” you started back, asking him about the collection in detail, and eventually, letting it go. 

Your new friend was now your tutor and companion within the walls of the castle, as well as outside of it. 

You weren’t one to tempt the fates too much.

(—)

The path into the castle from where you had entered had three break off points. One lead to the hall by your quarters, the second led to the throne room and the third led down to the kitchens. 

For obvious reasons, the three of you decided on the kitchens, hoping to slip in unnoticed with the general chaos outside the castle. 

Before exiting the security of the tunnel, you paused, fingers drifting over the stone walls, praying their security and strength would somehow leech into you. 

“I didn’t know it was you,” Stephen murmured, leaning into your shoulder while Loki scouted ahead. 

“What?” you blinked up at him. 

“The ball,” he explained quietly. “When I first arrived, you asked if I knew and I didn’t. I was just as surprised as you were.”

Dumbfounded you turned to face him, chests nearly pressed together from the small space. 

“You acted like you had,” you scowled at him. “I was furious for months.”

“I know,” he frowned sympathetically. “But you were so impressed, because truly, you hid it well.”

“Aside from being well read,” you challenged and he shook his head. 

“There are plenty of non-royal nobles who can read a good book,” he countered softly, his hand moving to cup your cheek. “I was transfixed by such a stunning creature with an equally stunning mind. Would you believe me if I said it was love at first sight? I almost turned down the post.”

“Will you two quit it and get a move on?” Loki hissed back into the tunnel. “It’s clear.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” you whispered, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. 

“Gods, I’m glad I didn’t either.”

(—)

13 - a surprise 

(--)

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[volturialice]

me: i’m not gonna write any more of the drugged!human alice au

also me:

it has a title now too I guess. posting in a huge rush because I was supposed to be out the door ten minutes ago, so it’s even more unbeta’ed than usual. oh well

2,180 words

warnings: drugs, discussion of date rape, vomiting

rating: T

pairings: jalice

part 1 here

perihelion 2/?

It’s hard to tell visions from dreams. Sometimes, Alice doesn’t know which is which until a vision is coming true right in front of her, and then it’s like, okay, too late to do anything about this now. It means all of her dreams are high stakes—any nightmare could become a life-ruining disaster, any good dream could be made or unmade real by some hidden catalyst she doesn’t know about. She’s pretty sure she almost bombed the PSAT because she didn’t wear the blue top she had on in the dream where she scored a 189.

But her inability to tell the difference was never that big of a deal until Forks—until she started dreaming about the Cullens, and Jasper specifically. She wishes she could tell which of the Jasper dreams are real. They’re just so…well, horny. If Alice knew they were visions, and not her subconscious making a complete, desperate idiot of itself, she could be less embarrassed about the whole thing.

Tonight she dreams of Jasper and Rosalie in a room with green walls and shiny wood floors. They’re different in the dream, somehow—more still. Rosalie doesn’t sit. Jasper doesn’t blink.

Between them, an open doorway gapes into darkness. Just visible in the room beyond is the silhouette of a prone figure on a bed, unmoving. They watch it for an uncomfortable amount of time before Rosalie speaks.

“If she were any other human, I would have hunted you for sport, you know.”

“I know,” says Jasper, sounding impossibly old and tired.

“I would be off absolutely wrecking your shit right now, and then I would take care of the liability, because that’s how it works in this family. But she’s…this.” Rosalie grimaces, gesturing to the figure on the bed. “And why was it you told us you were following her, again? To ‘ensure her silence?’ Right,” she scoffs, evidently too disgusted with Jasper to keep looking at him.

“She hasn’t said anything. She won’t.”

“No, she won’t, because you’ll stop her at all costs, will you?”

Jasper’s face doesn’t betray the slightest twitch, but his eyes harden almost imperceptibly. “Not that way.”

Rosalie whirls back around. “You were supposed to be the one person I could count on to do what’s necessary! And now you’re telling me you won’t? Listen to yourself!”

Jasper throws up his hands. “Why are you here, then, Rose? Why are you helping her?”

“I’m helping you, you jackass! I know you all think I’m this narcissistic bitch, but I’m not…not inhumane, okay?” Rosalie levels a contemptuous glance at him, then looks away. “I don’t want some girl to be date-raped, however dangerous she is. And I’m not about to sit by and watch you make a complete mess of things.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I think that ship may have sailed,” grumbles Jasper.

“I’ll say. I drive up and she’s going on about how you’re stalking her and claiming you’re dating? She should have been killed the moment she figured out what we were, but instead you’re following her around protecting her because of some bizarre psychic connection she claims you have? Make it make sense, Jasper.”

“Edward confirmed her ability is real.”

“Great, so she’s a bigger freak than us. That makes it all ok,” snaps Rosalie, dripping with sarcasm. “Wonderful to know your abysmal taste in women hasn’t altered after all these years.”

Jasper ignores both the jab and the implication. “Earlier you made it sound like you were on her side.”

“I just think you ought to admit what’s really going on here. You won’t let us kill her—fine. It’s utterly irresponsible and stupid, but I can accept that. But it’s not like we can allow her to keep existing out there as a human, knowing what she knows.”

Jasper barks out a humorless, incredulous laugh. “Are you advocating that we should have Carlisle change her? You, Rosalie Hale, want to ‘take away her humanity?’”

Rosalie shrugs. “I’m not saying she wouldn’t be better off dead. But she’s not a very good human, is she? I gather she’s not exactly thriving. They have to pump her full of drugs just to keep her functional, and her human peers still think she’s insane. Be realistic. Her life was over the moment she learned the truth about us.”

Jasper’s only response is a slow shake of his head, like he still can’t believe what he’s hearing.

Rosalie’s eyes narrow. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about changing her. Don’t tell me it wasn’t your first thought, when you realized you didn’t want her dead. I may not be the mind reader in the family, but I know that’s a lie.”

It takes Jasper a beat too long to answer. “Of course I’ve thought about it.”

“Not enough, apparently. Right now, we’re in as much danger as she is. If she were one of us…well, her life is already ruined anyway. At least then we’d have her oh-so-special ability on our side.  Surely you can see the strategic advantage,” Rosalie rebukes. “Better Carlisle changes her than the Volturi. Has it occurred to you that if they ever find out she exists, the decision will be taken right out of your hands?”

“It’s not in my hands.”

Rosalie rolls her eyes again. “Hers, then.”

He sighs. “The possibility did occur to me.”

“You think she wants to learn Italian and live in a sewer? Eat tourists?”

“I have no idea what she wants.”

Rosalie laughs. “Right, because she’s playing it so close to the vest. She called you a simp. Do you know what that means?”

“We’re not talking about this.”

“Funny how you never want to confide in anyone, yet here we are.”

Jasper’s look says that isn’t what’s going on here, but he doesn’t respond. They settle back into tense silence.

“What are you going to do about the man? The one who drugged her?” asks Rosalie after a while.

“Eliminate him. Quietly.”

Rosalie nods. “Carlisle won’t like it.”

“He doesn’t have to.”

“Can you actually do it, though? Without slipping?”

Jasper doesn’t answer, which is an answer in itself.

“I could do it.” Rosalie’s voice is quiet.

“It’s not your problem.”

“Exactly,” Rosalie insists. “It wouldn’t be a problem for me. If you slip…well, we may not have to move, but you won’t be able to come back to school for months. Going to trust the rest of us to babysit your human?”

“I won’t slip,” says Jasper, but for the first time, he sounds uncertain.

Alice’s dream chooses this moment to blur and shift. Jasper and Rosalie melt away, voices distorting until they’re drowned out by other voices, other sounds and images that crowd in and pull at her, like being tossed around in a rough ocean. They come one after another, too fast to make sense of them—muddy tires, a burst of cut-off music, a slow, dark ooze crawling over pavement, an echoing splash. Familiar red eyes, looking down at her.

Then Alice is awake, and the eyes looking down at her are black. Wait, no. There are no eyes looking down at her. It must have been part of the dream.

She’s lying on something soft—a bed. Above her is a white ceiling. Her head throbs with a confused, cotton-y ache, and her mouth tastes disgusting.

What the hell happened? Alice isn’t great at piecing together chronological sequences at the best of times. She remembers being in Port Angeles…splitting up with Bella in order to meet her friends from the art show at a bar, and then…people talking, her legs sticking to the green leather barstool.  The lights getting blurry around the edges, the cool, slippery feel of condensation from the glass in her hand, and…oh. Oh, shit. Jasper.

Jasper had been there. The last thing she can recall is Jasper approaching, his face twisted in rage so murderous that she’d thought, huh, I guess he really is a vampire.

She rolls over and—speak of the devil—there he is, standing kind of a weird distance away, halfway between the bed and the door. He looks far less murderous than she remembers.

“Good morning,” she croaks, struggling into a sitting position. “Um. Where the hell am I?”

“Port Townsend,” says Jasper, which means absolutely nothing to her. She’s only been in Forks a few months—is she seriously supposed to know Washington geography?

To Alice’s immense relief, she’s still fully clothed. She does a surreptitious check to make sure her boobs aren’t falling out of her shirt, and when she looks back up there’s a glass of water in front of her face. She takes it and chugs the whole thing down in a few gulps. Why does she feel so hungover? She had only had, like, two drinks last night. Certainly not enough to make her black out and forget the whole evening. No, this big, empty gap in her memory feels more like when they used to drug her at the hospital. In fact, it feels exactly like that.

Jasper takes the empty glass from her and hands her another full one. He’s still watching her in a way that makes her want to squirm and fidget. Why had he been so angry last night?

She chugs the second glass of water while her sluggish brain tries to add it all up. Angry Jasper plus no memory plus waking up in a bed in a strange place, equals…yikes. Maybe she shouldn’t be drinking whatever he hands her.

“Uh,” she taps her fingers against the empty glass, “why do I feel like I’ve been roofied?”

“Because you were. Here,” says Jasper, handing her something else. Her own phone, somehow fully charged. One new voicemail, from…herself.

Future Alice, this is Past Alice. You’re probably pretty freaked out right now, but it’s okay! Jasper didn’t drug you. I repeat, Jasper did not drug you. Be nice to Rosalie; she’s there to help. Now put the phone down, you’re about to hurl. Bye!

Alice has just enough time to think, Rosalie? before a violent wave of nausea hits and she’s throwing up into the waste bin that appears in front of her face. “Ugh,” says the person holding it, and sure enough, there’s Rosalie.

There’s something extra humiliating about throwing up in front of two vampires, one of whom she kind of has a thing with and the other of whom is his super-hot sister who hates her. Thankfully, her stomach was empty except for the two glasses of water.

Rosalie blurs out of the room—damn, she’s fast—and reappears without the waste bin. It’s weird being on the bed while Rosalie and Jasper are standing, so Alice gets to her feet, already feeling way better. “Whose house is this?” she asks.

“Mine,” says Rosalie, practically shooting laser beams of resentment from her eyes.

“You wouldn’t let us take you home or to the hospital,” explains Jasper. “This is Rosalie and Emmett’s beach cottage.”

“Cottage” seems like the wrong word for this place, now that Alice gets a look at it. It has eight- or nine-foot ceilings and the view out the window—a vast, gray body of water that might be the ocean or some kind of bay—looks like a default computer desktop.

“Oh. So, then…someone else drugged me last night?” She tries to remember who she was talking to before Jasper came over, but she’d talked to so many people at the bar that they all kind of blur together in her head.

Jasper nods.

“Like we’d ever need to drug you,” says Rosalie. Oh, right. Vampires.

“So you just…watched me sleep?”

“Yeah, it was riveting. I had no idea snoring like a lawnmower was a side effect of rohypnol.”

So Alice was supposed to be nice to Rosalie, huh? Easier said than fucking done.

Something pushes at the back of her mind—Rosalie and Jasper watching her sleep. She, Alice, had watched them watching her sleep—from outside her own body. A vision, then, and not a dream.

She tries to remember the rest of it on the drive back to Forks, staring out the back window of Rosalie’s BMW like a kid with the two vampires up front. There had been something else in the vision, something besides the disjointed set of images. Jasper and Rosalie had talked about her, about whether or not she should be a vampire. She sneaks a glance at Jasper in the car mirror, at his downcast, shadowed eyes. Had he ever actually said whether he wanted Alice to be a vampire or not?

His eyes snap up to meet hers in the mirror, so suddenly she almost jumps. Alice looks away, guilty for no real reason. The vision, think about the vision.

There had been something else in it: a plan. They were going to…something. Something about slipping, something Rosalie thought she could do better than Jasper…

Right. They were going to kill someone.

.

.

rosalie @ human bella: noooo don’t become a vampire you’re so fertile aha

rosalie @ human alice: yeah nobody’s impregnating this little gremlin. bite away

[bigbrotherlouis]

for director’s cut: the raleigh/airport scene in ‘i can’t find nothin’...’ if you would like to!!!!

ANGELA you’re gonna make me talk about sex scenes on main?! let’s DO IT

(director’s cut meme)

andrei understands, on some level, why they have to fly commercial, (i’m always going to make players fly commercial in fic if i can. direct action.)   even with a job like theirs, but in practicality, when he’s wandering around the raleigh airport at six am after their flight out is delayed, he doesn’t.

marty’s laughing at him in the way that means he’s trying to be subtle about it, but andrei’s too grumpy to care. (this was for la.) it’s too fucking early and the line for coffee is too fucking long.

“it’s too early,” he whines. marty flips over the book in his hands to read the back cover.

“boo fuckin’ hoo, bud.”

“i’m tired.” and again, in russian, “я устал.”

“не— не— i don’t care,” (i couldn’t remember how to phrase this properly and i didn’t want to look it up, plus it’s funny) marty snaps back. “it’s your own fault for watching tv until one in the morning.”

“it was gossip girl,” he mutters. “important american culture.” (in one of my transition workshops where we learned to handle moving countries, we watched mean girls as an example of american culture. true story.)

“uh huh, and degrassi is exactly how canadian high school was like.” (didn’t like the flow on this sentence but i couldn’t figure out how else to phrase it. oh well.)

andrei is, like, ninety percent sure marty didn’t finish high school in canada, but he’s not willing to take the chance that he’s wrong and get teased about it. “please, can we go to starbucks now? давай, давай.” [let’s go, let’s go] (translation is always a struggle, and even more so when it’s a different alphabet like russian. i decided to include translations when context isn’t immediately clear for the reader’s comfort. also, this is something my family does-- use a different language when we want to stress something, like svechy stressing that he wants to leave)

“talking in russian won’t get me to go any faster, svechy,” marty says, placid for the early morning, and shoves a book into andrei’s hands. “here. read this and distract yourself.”

“i don’t read until i awake.” (svechy’s syntax was hard for me to write, because i want it to be clear, true to character, and respectful all at once which is hard to balance. it’s why svech’s grammar can sometimes seem a little inconsistent-- sometimes, i chose respect and readability over true to characterization. also, transliteration of accents can make people seem childish or dumb which is absolutely not what i want!)

“sucks to suck.”

andrei grumbles under his breath, a mixture of russian and english and some of sebastian’s favourite swedish (this should be finnish. oops.) curses thrown in there too, absently drumming his fingers on the cover of the book he’s still holding. marty is paying him no attention, which almost bothers him as much as the lack of caffeine does.

he’s cocking his head to read the spines of the books in the airport store when he feels the heat of someone step behind him, too close for politeness, and he’s whirling before he can even really think about it. (there really aren’t a lot of places spies can meet up by accident without getting too repetitive, especially in something that’s supposed to be silly and short, but an airport felt plausible.)

“whoa,” says joel, stepping back out of andrei’s elbows. “easy there.”

“joel?”

“in the flesh,” he says with a grin, and andrei’s thinking about how twice is a coincidence but three times is a pattern when (this is me lampshading their constant meetups because i didn’t feel like expounding on it LOL)— “is that twilight?”

“i— what?”

“the book you’re reading.”

andrei looks down at his hands and then scowls in the general direction of the shelves. fucking marty. (this is the whole reason they’re in the bookstore. for me to make this joke about svech holding twilight.)

joel tips his head to the side and grins wider. “didn’t peg (haha peg) you for a vampire guy, but i can see it. wait, fuck, are you from transylvania?” (apologies to americans but this is a little jab at your general geography abilities)

“no, not in in russia,” he says absently. “siberia, yes. transylvania, no. why you here?”

“well, i just like to lurk around airports for fun. you see interesting people like this.”

“really.”

joel snorts. “no, i have a flight, dumbass. i’m a business bitch.” (my rule of thumb for writing joel’s dialogue is to think of the most ridiculous thing i can imagine a person saying in any given circumstance and then assigning him that line.)

“a business bitch?”

“yeah, dude. makin’ money moves n’shit.”

“you’re not following me?” andrei asks, aiming for teasing, pretending it’s not a real question. (more lampshading. i was lazy.) joel makes his eyes go wide and innocent, and mostly doesn’t succeed.

“andrew,” he says, outraged. “are you accusing me of being a stalker?”

“yes.”

“oh, so you’re definitely team edward. (this joke fell into my lap) i see how it is. can’t a bro say hi to his bro in an airport, especially after getting a decent brojob the last time they saw each other?”

andrei mouths the word brojob (i crack up every time this term is used and joel would absolutely say it) and then shakes his head. “no.”

“tough crowd. what are you doing here, buddy?”

“waiting for marty to finish so we can go to starbucks. too early and he is too slow.”

“yeah?” joel looks over at where marty is now examining the overpriced souvenirs with a very careful air, taking them off the shelves and putting them gently back. (i was very into this image) “wanna go stand in line with me?” (high romance there, bee)

strictly speaking, marty and andrei are supposed to be together when travelling, just in case someone gets snatched. it’s happened before, but andrei really, really wants something to drink before they fly out to fucking vancouver, or wherever they’re going. he can’t even remember. besides, if joel was going to snatch him, he would’ve done it earlier, in the hotel when andrei was fucked out and happy. he shrugs. (listen. i didn’t want to do any worldbuilding because it was a fun au so i did the bare minimum.)

“sure. marty, i go to stand in line,” he yells and marty waves a hand without looking up. the line stretches down the hallway, too many people patiently waiting for a rush. (i’m so familiar with this and it makes me sad just writing about it) andrei can’t fault them; he’s tired too, which is why he doesn’t realise that joel’s pulling him towards the bathrooms instead of the coffee shop, pushing him into the family stall and shoving the door closed. (i’m gonna be honest: i have absolutely no idea why i made this a sex scene. like none. i remember being halfway through and being like “....i’m writing?? airport sex??” but i don’t remember why i decided it was a good idea.)

for a second, andrei thinks this is when he gets kidnapped and killed, a rival taking him out in the crowded airport where no one can see. the bulgarian maneuver would’ve been a lot less conspicuous, but oh well. (this is referring to the bulgarian assassins who killed a journalist in the 80s? i think? with a poison-tipped umbrella and i’m just now realising that’s probably not common knowledge)

instead, joel clicks the lock in place and presses up close, plastered to the front of andrei.

“wha—” says andrei, but it’s swallowed up in joel’s mouth, swallowed up in the kiss that joel gives him. he kisses back, of course he does, because it’s a fucking good kiss. joel hums, coaxing his mouth open for a minute and then biting on his lower lip before pulling away. he doesn’t go far, hands skimming down andrei’s body until he drops to his knees on the dirty bathroom floor.

“we are in a toilet,” andrei hisses. “in an airport.” (svech has the practical response)

joel shrugs, giving him the biggest shit-eating grin as he undoes his belt. (joel is never not going to be smug) “guess you have to be fast, then. besides, i owe you one.”

technically, he still got off last time, even if it was pretty basic, it’s not like andrei’s going to say no, not when joel is looking so eager and mischievous.

“don’t make too much noise,” instructs joel, (i realised after i posted the fic that both blowjobs start with someone giving instructions and i’m gonna say it’s because it’s a literary parallel and not because i don’t know how to transition into sexual acts) and then he’s got his mouth on andrei’s dick and andrei can’t think of anything else to say. he bangs his head against the door and clamps a hand over his mouth, digging his fingers of his other hand into the wood behind him.

joel is good enough that andrei’s not going to last long, not like this, getting off on the secrecy of it all. (read: i just didn’t want to write a lot. but also i think svechy has an exhibitionist streak in him and joel definitely does) it’s a tiny bit shameful in the way that makes him groan into his palm, makes him rock his hips into joel’s hot mouth. joel just hums around andrei’s dick and that’s— okay, that’s a lot. andrei’s gonna get a splinter under his nails from digging so hard, or maybe he’s gonna die on the spot, or like something because joel pulls off to just go right back in again and fuck. (fun fact! i’ve never had sex i don’t know what i’m writing)

“fuck,” he hisses through the meat of his hand. “fuck!”

it’s too loud, probably, and joel’s eyes flick up to his with a warning.

“sorry,” andrei breathes. joel pinches his thigh, sharp enough to sting, and embarrassingly, that’s what makes him come with a noise between a breath and a whine.

“baller,” (joel pick something less sexy to say i dare you) joel says smugly when andrei comes back to earth, enough of a douche move that andrei can’t help but roll his eyes. he flicks joel on the cheek.

“you suck.”

he grins. “well, yeah. obviously.” (low hanging fruit but he’d say it so i wrote it)

“idiot,” andrei mutters and then tugs on joel’s shoulders until he stands up, pulls him in until he can nudge at joel’s jaw with his nose. “i help you?”

joel shakes his head, his hair tickling the side of andrei’s cheek. “nah, i like it when you owe me. hey, does it count as being part of the mile high club if we’re still on the ground?” (i was literally in the middle of posting this fic to ao3 before i realised i had not made a mile high joke which was unacceptable. typed it right into the text box)

“no?”

“damn. it’s on my bucket list.”

“you so weird,” andrei tells him, not managing to keep the fondness out of his voice, and then yawns so hard his jaw cracks. “i’ll pay you back with a drink.”

“oh my god,” says joel and then pinches andrei in the side so he twitches. “i just gave you the best airport blowjob—”

“only airport blowjob.”

“the best fucking airport blowjob of your life, and you’re thinking about drinks? fuckin’ ridiculous, andrew.”

“not andrew, yo-el.” (this is svech getting back at joel as best he can. trying to give it as good as he gets it. establishing banter!!)

“sure, bro,” joel mumbles and andrei shoves at him so he can get his pants back on, fumbling with the door. “next time better be fuckin’ phenomenal. you owe me big time.”

“excuse me, you said it was payback. we equal.”

“maybe i changed my mind,” joel says with a grin, bumping him with his hip.

“maybe i disappear forever,” he replies, halfway between teasing and halfway to serious. joel reaches up to fix his snapback (this is also for la.) and shrugs.

“nah, you’re too sweet to do that.”

“i’m not sweet.”

“uh huh, bro. keep tellin’ yourself that shit.”

the line’s gone down, incredibly, and they’re close enough to the counter that andrei has to start thinking about what to order. he should probably get something for marty, or risk getting whined at all flight.

“yo,” says joel when they’re two people away from the barista. “you got digits?”

andrei hesitates and then holds up his hands, wriggling his fingers. “uh. yes?” (it’s probably more in character for real life joel to ask for instagram instead but this joke made me laugh so much that i couldn’t bear to leave it out. also it’s a little fun second language moment)

joel blinks at him for a long second and then breaks out into a wide smile, shaking his head. “nah, not those. i mean, like, a phone number.”

“i don’t have a phone,” he mutters and then pulls one out of his pocket. (YES this is a tumblr post ripoff but svech wasn’t just going to give it up so easily so in it went) “okay, give.”

he dutifully types out the sequence joel rattles off and then sends a smiley face to the number when joel makes him text.

“cool. now we can text instead of ambushing each other in public.”

“that not me,” andrei tells him. “all you.”

“you’re jumpy and it’s cute.”

“i’ll delete your number. block it.” he warns and joel waves a hand.

“yeah, yeah,” he says cheerfully and then leans over to tell the barista what he wants to drink. it’s the most ridiculous sugary concoction, hardly any coffee, and andrei stares at him in horror. (this is projection for my horror at some of the things i’ve seen in american coffee shops. that’s just. so much sugar. also prime chirping opportunity to show their personalities and dynamic a little)

“you gonna drink that?” he asks and joel frowns a little. “is just sugar. candy.”

“yeah, so? it tastes so good.”

“you not gonna have teeth.” he orders two cold brews and pays. “you gonna die early from sugar.”

“somehow,” joel says with a sparkle in his eye, “i don’t think it’s gonna be the sugar that’ll nerf me in the end.” (minor foreshadowing here! also lmao @ the thought of joel saying nerf) 

he gets his vanilla bean java chip unicorn whatever frappuccino— literally, what the fuck— and takes a satisfied sip.

“disgusting,” says andrei. “no more kissing for you.”

“aw, bud, how am i gonna practice? you said i needed it.” (it’s not stated in the fic but joel learned how to flirt from watching tk and patty and i think it shows) 

“lost cause,” he tells him airily. he’s about to suggest something— he’s not even sure what— when someone appears over joel’s shoulder.

“farabee,” the guy says. he looks stern, but that might be the impressive beard. or the death glare he’s levelling andrei’s way. “where the fuck have you been?”

joel brandishes his drink. “caffeinating it up, g. stayin’ alert and awake.” (real life joel has said this at least once to claude, and i will stand by that statement)

g’s frown gets deeper. “we’re going to miss our flight.”

“nah, we’ve got time— oh, shit. yeah, we gotta bounce, bruh, but i’ll catch you later? text me.” (inelegant departure but my goal was to not overthink things in this fic, like i’m prone to do, so i left it) he almost literally get pulled away by his elbow, towed by his ginger friend through the airport so he can enthusiastically wave his goodbye.

“well,” marty says out of nowhere, reaching for his cold brew and making andrei jump. “there’s good news and bad news.”

“okay.”

“the good news is that he’s cute and somehow into your stupid face.” he takes a long drink, conscious that andrei is about to hit him for making him wait and enjoying it very much. (he’s dramatic and also i wanted to draw out the surprise a little) andrei needs new teammates.

“the bad news?” he prompts.

“the bad news,” repeats marty, grimacing. “the bad news is that he’s definitely in the same line of work as us.”([john mulaney voice] the other shoe just dropped.)

everything in andrei’s head grinds to a stop. “uh. what?”

“i recognize his handler. giroux, french canadian division.” (i’m gonna work g into fic when i can bc i love him)

“joel’s american,” he says absently and marty takes another drink, shrugging.

“so philly’s an international cooperation team. (this was my way of making the international aspect of the spy teams make sense, and also to not have this be enemies-to-lovers, as much as i love that trope) can’t imagine that ever happening.” he gives svech a look which, yes, andrei knows they work together because of a treaty or whatever, but still. he wants marty to be wrong about joel, for so many reasons.

mainly because he doesn’t like feeling like he’s been conned, not when he’s so good at doing the conning, and this is a big one. (it’s not my fic if there’s not at least a little angst!)

“fuck,” he says glumly. marty pats him on the shoulder.

“well,” he says. “at least he’s cute.” (marty’s trying to show his support for svech here! he just wants good things for his friend :)))

that was so fun to do, thank you so much for asking! ily!! <3 <3 <3

[fallingin-like]

november 11

taller than giants by @allforthebee ​ [requested by @horton-hears-a-doctor-who]

see which other fics i’m reviewing this month! / my review request post!

this wonderful fic is a lovely take on neil and andrew as best friends in university. it’s a softer version of these characters but maintains the great dynamic between them we’re familiar with.  this fic will break you apart and knit you back together.

this fic was such a joy to reread. i remember reading it for the first time, eagerly waiting for the next update because i was so invested in the story. even now, when it has been a while since i’ve last read it, i immediately recognized the name when it was requested. the thing that i remember the most was how amazing you are at creating tone. you do an amazing job integrating the characters into this au and creating the relationships between them.

parts that i really enjoyed:

”the press of his cheek against the kitchen window as he tried to capture the storm clouds that lined the sky like soft, gray wool.” the imagery of this is so beautiful, i love the contrast i feel between the storm and the softness of the wool. something comforting but also frightening.

this whole section on neil’s childhood. we get a picture of what was happening, but more importantly, how neil experienced it. we see the things that he focused (the blue hair, the spaghetti-o’s) there’s such a sense of melancholy when i read this, but also a distance that tells me how neil has separated himself from the child that he was. 

”’my phone died.’ it was only a partial lie. technically, it was wedged between the seat of his car, but it could be dead” i LOVE scenes where we see how neil rationalizes half-lies. they’re funny, but because it’s so neil.

”matt continued, oblivious to neil and allison, who were holding a silent contest on who could maintain their eye roll longer.” ahh you do a fantastic job establishing how everyone interacts with each other, the easy-going relationship that exists.

”right, you’re neil josten, which means you’re fine and you don’t swing.” LOL add on that he has a smart mouth and that’s basically a character summary

”sunlight dripped from the sky, seeping into the cracks of the sidewalk and spilling bright against andrew’s pale head.” oh my goodness, what a gorgeous sentence!!! 

ahhhh the arizona conversation is so cute!! i like this sort of nickname, it’s so fresh and also helps me know where the fic is taking place (bc i do not know anything about american geography. i spent the longest time imagining palmetto was near california??)

andrew is an early education major!! that is sooo soft. it’s likely very fitting for this au as well! canon andrew i can’t see wanting to spend that much time around people, but you cannot deny that he is a caretaker. especially with his rough childhood (although i hope it wasn’t so bad in this au)

”do i have to get you a necklace, zoey?” oH my i don’t get a lot of pop culture references because i don’t watch much tv but wOW what a throwback.

”he watched as the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky dripping honey, pale and gold, bright against the faded dashboard of his car.” how are you so good at writing these descriptions of the sky? so so wonderful how you paint the scene

”they sold everything from cigarettes and beer, to fungal cream and laxatives. it wasn’t the greatest. but it was the cheapest” what a mood

ANDREW TEXTING NEIL WHILE IN THE SAME ROOM AS HIM THIS IS SO CUTE

okay okay okay. i know that i have been raving about your imagery, but this scene of andrew and neil going out at night is so amazing. i can’t even describe how much i love it. you do such an amazing job at capturing how neil sees andrew. neil keeping all of his test shots of andrew? ahhhh but i love so much this bit on andrew and the mood “neil smiled and took another photo of andrew drenched in moonlight” i think this is one of my favourite sentences. i reread this and felt so strongly. i don’t comment often on fics, something i have been getting better at this year. but when i first read this fic i was so blown away that i couldn’t not comment. when i came across this sentence i knew that past me hadn’t been able to leave without telling you how i felt.

”neil took another look at the flimsy menu, his eyes lifting over the edge to see andrew staring at him. neil blinked. he was used to it, but there was something different in his eyes.” i would really like to know what was going through andrew’s mind during this. 

andrew avoiding neil actually broke my heart. you know when you read something angsty and you get a physical reaction? that feeling of pain just in between your ribs that hurts but also feels strangely good? that is how i felt. neil’s uncertainty of what’s happening with andrew, not sure if he was in a relationship with someone else, the tension between them at dan’s show? when neil finally confronts andrew and he just keeps interrupting him, i really can’t handle it. i think you made the right decision, splitting up the chapters but i’m definitely thankful that i’m rereading this when all the chapters have been published. neil’s interaction with kevin made everything more lighthearted at first, but wowow “… a slow burn eased into his chest, filling his lungs with lighter fluid. he took in a steadying breath. he needed to keep the flames in his chest from scorching kevin day” loved this!

ahh renee and neil’s conversation was so good, soo validating. neil’s uncertainty is so heartbreaking

as much as i like certain fics that include when andrew is jealous, i’m kind of glad that nothing happens between kevin and neil. it would be too much too soon. 

neil forgetting his key is so full circle, the idea of him spending nights sleeping in his trunk, wrapped in blankets until andrew comes and collects him makes me so soft. “some things aren’t worth losing” i love this phrase. i’m curious, when did andrew leave it? that evening/day? before then?

all of the pictures of andrew, i can’t quite explain how i feel when i read about neil looking over all these memories of them. there’s something just so lovely about it all

the resolution of this was just so perfect. 

as you could probably tell, i absolutely adore your descriptions of the weather and how they correlate with neil’s mood. you were so good at building tension and finding a way to resolve it, when i was reviewing this, i had to stop after chapter 3 because i couldn’t wait to find out what would happen next, i needed to finish the fic before i could go back and take my time going through it. i loved your characterization, you made everyone feel so real, and this fic flowed so nicely because of it. i liked the way that you captured neil’s sexuality, and the confusion that he had, i saw myself in it. the way that neil and andrew’s relationship develops through this fic is so wonderful to witness, the way that they learn about each other and themselves. what a beautiful fic, thank you so much for writing it!

[unproduciblesmackdown]

every other even starting at 4!

lmaooo ty i was like “uh oh, Evens but also Alternating Ones?? can i remember both things” and well the answer would’ve been Yes anyways, but then i was like oh right that’s like. multiples of 4.........it’s a dubious if i can put “took a lot of math classes and i’m decent at math, i think” in that Talents question later on lol

4: What’s your favorite part of the day?

it depends lol....i’ve got that night owl thing going on so like maybe 10p - 4am are my Peak Hours probably like, naturally......but not like i hate daylight......Evening in summer months is good like. shit isn’t plummeting into darkness in 2 min after 2 hrs of shitty lighting like in winter......

8: How does someone become important to you?

idk it’s Not Hard but also it is lmao like. we just keep regularly interacting and we vibe? Bro......We Are Friends

12: What can you spend forever talking about?

lmaooooo so many things. like, generally i can just spend Forever Talking b/c irl (and to an extent online lol) i am a chatterbox. very rarily In Practice though b/c i have to be around ppl i want to / am comfortable just talking freely with. but i’ll like, leap on whatever opportunity to talk about some shit i’m interested in / it having already been Brought Up.....amazing restraint from me sometimes when maybe an acquaintance makes a tweet and i Could come crashing in with comments but i refrain

16: What is something you really want?

stares at hands.....big question......but i never have like 5 Year Plan / or many super Concrete specific things, and there’s a lot going on right now so it’s like, as step one, i think i and all of us want to Not be in a pandemic

20: Have you ever had a dream that made you wonder if it was actually a memory?

not that i know of (i.e. didn’t forget lol) cuz the only time my dreams really Draw From Life very directly is like “here’s some Anxiety Scenario dreams” or the location is a school i went to and stuff like that

24: Have you ever met someone you never thought you’d become close to?

i mean there’s been people i’ve been like “i’m not interested in interacting with this person” and then Not had a close relationship with lol but if the implication for this is “and then you Did become close to them, despite your expectations” it’s like.......no not really lmao. ppl have to talk to me for like weeks or months before i realize like “oh right, they’re probably doing that b/c they like you / want to” so it can’t really sneak up on me lol

28: Do you ever make impulsive decisions?

if i’m in a group or w/e i’m never trying to make decisions but if it’s just me yeah i can make kinda impulsive decisions lol.....usually just in wild ways like “hmm i want to do [whatever] so here i go doing it”

32: If you could go back in time and re-live your life up to this point, knowing everything that you know now, would you make different decisions?

really i just wouldn’t mess with the timeline lol......maybe about some smaller details but even then. i could say like “oh i could learn a language” lol but that’s asking an elementary schooler to like, take that initiative or w/e

36: Favorite book quote(s)?

well i haven’t even read the book but i guess my catchphase Invoked Book Quote is the “anger is a type of geography” one, the full quote of which i Saved just so that i could conveniently invoke it in full whenever i mention it:

Anger is a type of geography. The ways out of it expand the more you love a person. The more forgiveness you might be willing to afford each other opens up new and unexpected roads. And so, for some, staying angry at someone you love is a reasonable option. To stay angry at someone you know will forgive your anger is a type of love, or at least it is a type of familiarity that can feel like love.

and ig it ties into this stance where it’s not like “Never Being In Conflict is the ideal for good relationships” and instead is like “even if you get along with people you like the vast majority of the time, probably conflict just happens in the course of Interacting With Other Humans and can be be viewed as an Opportunity where, in the course of navigating a conflict, a relationship can evolve / improve, and also if you think Zero Conflicts Ever is the definition / goal of the Best relationships you’re going to avoid even small conflicts with anyone and probably that lack of communication / requiring ppl to trade the discomfort of Conflict / Change for the discomfort of [if you are at all upset about something you have no recourse] where the latter is definitely worse long-term”.................also related to the last time i Dropped This Quote, for some reason the other day i was remembering the story lauren told about her and will’s tiff unfolding behind the scenes of a performance......rip to how yeah i’m sure it wasn’t fun but the Funny-After-The-Fact Story sure is charming re: like oh all these friends having and getting past fights and etc lmao and in conclusion i rly ought to rewatch the bwayjackbox bmc reunion lol..........also despite me talking about “so great when people Can Be Mad at each other” at length here i’m not raring to brawl with you guys or anything lmao.....

40: What makes you feel confident?

idk lol like there’s always “when you wear an outfit you like” but my outfits are like “shorts and a tee” so it’s not hard. although sometimes it’s like, well my comfortable shirts that are about like “I’m Gay” or sm shit, layers there. would i get a Boost from wearing the Lgw tee?? probably, b/c it’s like, yeah out here subtly caping for wroland really and his amazing solo number, etc......time will tell. still storing that away for Worthy Occasions that aren’t just like [me sweating into it] lmao. also when you’re around other lgbtq people in person even if they’re strangers it’s like hell yeah just overall Stats Boost

44: Do you consider yourself talented?

i mean ppl get Talented through spending a lot of time on Whatever and like, wanting to put that attention and effort into it.......like, i’ve done some cooking / baking just In My Life and so i’m hardly an expert but i’ve got like, some solid knowledge of what i’m doing i think lmao......practiced ballet for a little over a decade and i ended up decent at that........my Ability To Draw is solid for what i want out of it (which is just me: drawing gay niche shit for the self-indulgence of it) and that got a boost from like, i just had a tendency to mess around drawing shit all the time as a kid / took some art classes in like elementary school, did a lot of painting tho lol i’m not great at colors.....damn took art classes in college too i guess, i forget about that. but really drawing-wise the real Experience i got was like, realizing a decade ago like “hey i can just make and share self-indulgent niche gay fanart” so that was my motivation and i’ve been somewhat regularly making stuff the whole time.......the talent of Befriending Cats lol but that’s just “just be chill with them”

48: Have you ever started to try learning about a subject only to realize it’s not something you enjoy?

not really lmao cuz like i’m out here barely ever starting to try to learn a subject that i Do enjoy

[preserving-ferretbrain]

Golden Girls and Lost Boys

Shimmin considers a Disney film much too seriously for anyone's good.~

Spoiler warning for Tangled.

Recently, I went to watch Tangled (in 3D! not that it matters, and because there wasn't an alternative, but there you are), the new Disney Rapunzel film. I'm not planning to do yer'actual review of it, and I'm not that interested in getting into heavy analysis of the plot or logic or of a Disney film based on a fairy tale, because that would be silly. It was fun, it was more-or-less for children, it was funny, it was sweet if a bit saccharine, it had an awesome horse. Their version also seemed quite original, which is something I tend to forget about Disney films. Anyway, this article is not about that. It brought up some vaguely interesting issues that I thought might be worth waffling about in case anyone else also found them interesting.

Synopsis

The Disney plot is rather different, and people might not be over-familiar with the details of Rapunzel anyway, so here's the gist. A drop of sunlight falls to earth and grows into a magical flower (just go with it, okay?). An old woman finds the flower, and discovers that if she sings a particular magical song to it, it glows with healing light that temporarily restores her youth (ditto). She hides it and uses it to stay young and beautiful for an unspecified but long time. The Queen becomes ill while pregnant, so they send the army to find the fabled flower. They make a healing potion from it, which works, and the child is born as a beautiful golden-haired daughter (it wasn't entirely clear when the mop of hair appeared, but stick with me here). One night, the old woman sneaks into the palace to steal a lock of hair, believing it'll have the same healing properties. But when she cuts it, the hair loses its power. In desperation, she steals the baby. Nobody knows what happened to the princess, and they never find her. Every year on her birthday, they release Chinese lanterns to remember her.

Eighteen years later, thieves break in and steal the princess' crown (presumably a traditional item from the treasury) which is handily kept on a cushion beneath a skylight with all the guards facing away. They're pursued, and one (Flynn) splits off from the others with the crown, escaping the guards but still followed by an angry horse. He finds a tower in a hidden valley, which seems like an ideal hiding place. Sadly, he's beaten unconscious by an 18-year-old Rapunzel with a pan, and stuffed in a cupboard. Rapunzel wants to go and see the floating lights she's spotted every year on her birthday, but her mother won't let her. After yet another argument, which dissuades her from revealing her prisoner to her mother, she decides to make the man take her instead while her mother's away. Wacky adventures and angst and excitement ensue. The two fall in love, and are followed by the old woman, who uses Flynn's betrayed partners to set an ambush, and sets it up to look like he's abandoned Rapunzel so she'll accept her mother's advice and won't try to leave the tower again. He escapes, comes to see her, is mortally wounded, and has a pointless heroic moment of sacrifice that is negated by Lurve. Old woman crumbles to dust, Rapunzel is reunited with her family, and all live happily ever after. Except the old woman, and presumably the now-imprisoned Stabbington Brothers.

Family Matters

One of the things that was vaguely interesting about the film was the family issues it brought up. The thing that really got my attention was right at the end, during the reuinion, when the narrator (i.e. Flynn) says something like: "...Rapunzel finally had a real family..."

Let's leave aside the likely problems for a girl brought up by a single parent in humble surroundings in a small tower, who's barely met a handful of people in her life, joining two unknown biological parents of immense wealth and power who live in a massive castle and incidentally becoming the biggest celebrity of all time. I'm sure there will be no issues whatsoever getting accustomed to that. Or long-term trauma associated with the violent death of the woman who brought her up and whom she sincerely loved. This is a fairy tale. However, it does get me thinking about families.

The old woman is never named in the story. I do wonder why; perhaps to stop us having any sympathy with her, though villains in other stories are named, or perhaps they simply couldn't be bothered inventing a name. It does dehumanize her a bit. Anyway, I'm going to call her Agnes. So Agnes has, indeed, kidnapped Rapunzel to use her supernatural power so she can live forever. This is Not Okay. And she keeps her trapped in the tower so she won't either leave her, or be found by anyone. The thing is, apart from that, she treats her as a daughter.

Now, I am not going to claim she's a great mother. She's controlling and emotionally manipulative, which I suppose isn't that surprising when she's keeping Rapunzel there basically by force of will. She's only tepidly affectionate. On the other hand, Rapunzel's very comfortable and, apart from a desire to see the outside world, she's pretty happy. She has nice furniture and playthings, nice clothes, and an apparently endless supply of hobby materials. They don't seem to have a luxurious diet, but neither do most peasants; and Agnes makes a point of cooking Rapunzel's favourite food when she visits. She's also educated her brilliantly: although a tad naive, she knows everything an ordinary, non-imprisoned girl would know. She recognises Flynn as a man, knows what birthdays mean, how drowning works, and when she's in danger. The outside world doesn't really phase her, so she must know about nature and geography, and she seems to have a decent grasp of society and normal behaviour too. She's articulate, intelligent and very pleasant. In fact, given the difficulties of the situation, Agnes is one of the most successful child-raisers I've ever heard of. It's very clear that, right until the end, Rapunzel is very fond of her mother. Regardless of Agnes' ultimate feelings towards the girl, she treats her extremely well so far as the situation allows. Compare, say, Cinderella or Snow White. Agnes may not be a great mother, but she's actually not a terrible one.

I was talking about this to Dan, and he summed up my argument here as basically: "Apart from kidnapping a baby, pretending to be her mother, bringing her up alone in a tower for eighteen years and deceiving her for her own selfish ends, she's not a particularly bad mother". The thing is, ridiculous as it sounds, I think that's about right. The things she's done wrong aren't really about how she raised Rapunzel, but more general wrongs that intertwine with that. The problem is that Agnes' dual status as adoptive mother and kidnapper rather complicates the issue.

As far as Rapunzel is concerned, at least, Agnes is her family. The thing that changes that is not really a shift in their relationship, or anything Agnes does; it's seeing a picture of the baby princess and then seeing herself in the mirror wearing the crown. It's a revelation of Objective Truth ('you are Really the Princess, the Queen and King are your Real Family'), rather than anything about the family itself - right until that moment, Rapunzel thinks of Agnes as her mother and loves her.

There's a decent argument that it's not a good family, because it's built on a tissue of lies. It's also possible that Agnes has no real affection for Rapunzel - she doesn't show any active affection in the film. On the other hand, she's brought the girl up for 18 years, and in that time, I'd have expected things to crystallise one way or the other. The first option is to view and treat her as a useful tool or a pet, in which case I wouldn't expect Rapunzel to be so well educated or comfortable; that's extra effort and liable to encourage further trouble, when you could bring her up cowed and ignorant so she won't get ideas. If, on the other hand, Agnes brings her up as though she was her daughter and treats her kindly, you'd expect some affection to arise on both sides.

Now, I don't think Disney thought much about this one throwaway line and I'm not that interested in decrying them. A fairly normative and slightly old-fashioned way of thinking is par for the course. I suppose the "real family" reference means one with honesty and love, rather than manipulation, deceit and using your daughter selfishly. It means the parents who wanted you and loved you unconditionally, rather than someone who stole you for selfish reasons, whether or not they've got fond of you. In context, though, it had a faint whiff of narrow-mindedness: that what really matters isn't who brought you up or how you felt about them, but your genes (and incidentally having two parents, not just one). The fact is though, Rapunzel actually had a pretty happy family life before all this kicked off.

From My Point of View, the Jedi are Arguably Morally Ambiguous

Although the story glosses over her, I was also quite interested in Agnes and her actions. We don't ever find out anything about her, other than her use of the flower and her relationship with Rapunzel. We don't know her background, her history, or what she does when she's not visiting Rapunzel. Why should we? Rapunzel doesn't either. She's presented pretty much exclusively as a manipulative, selfish woman, whose use of the flower is immoral, and who commits a string of selfish acts to keep herself young and live forever. I'm not sure how convinced I am by that portrayal, or the way morality is defined in this story as a whole.

Agnes is lucky enough to find the flower and discover its powers. She keeps it hidden and uses it to stay young (and therefore alive) for, well, a long time. She chooses to keep it to herself, which is selfish, but I wonder how long she'd get to keep it if people found out about it? She could legitimately have all kinds of worries about that, so keeping it hidden isn't that unreasonable. As it turns out, the first thing that happens when the flower's discovered is it gets taken - so her hypothetical suspicions are vindicated.

Now for a look at the Castle. When the Queen is ill, the Castle mount a frantic last-chance search for the rumoured magical flower, and due to carelessness on Agnes' part, find it. Under her very eyes, they carefully dig it up and take it away to the castle. Someone makes it into a magic potion, which heals the Queen and (probably) saves her daughter's life too.

The issue here is the magic flower. Who has the right to use it, and what uses are acceptable?

The flower just appears. There's no reason it belongs to anyone, but Agnes has as much claim to it as anyone. Agnes uses it to save her own life; the Castle use it to save the Queen's life (and her unborn daughter). While Agnes keeps the flower to herself, nobody else benefits; once the Castle destroy the flower, nobody else can ever benefit. There's a touch of criticism in the film's portrayal of Agnes' actions, as though it were a crime to seek immortality. I don't know much about ethics, but I suspect issues like immortality are much more complicated than "it's bad to try and live forever". The Castle's actions are presented straightforwardly as a good thing. To be honest, I can't really see much difference. From a purely practical perspective, the first is a much more efficient use of the flower. The only real difference I can see between them is that Agnes chooses to save herself, whereas someone else (the King?) chooses to save the Queen. The first is more obviously selfish; but the second involves destroying an item of fantastic potential benefit to the world, which doesn't actually belong to the King any more than it does to anyone else, to extend the life of his wife. Not entirely unselfish.

Once the flower is destroyed, Agnes is doomed. Having and then losing immortality is more of a blow than never having it. She works out that Rapunzel's hair could do the same job, and plans to steal a lock. It's a bit skeevy, and involves burglary; on the other hand, the Castle are responsible for her plight, and taking a lock of hair shouldn't actually harm anyone. I can't really see the Castle giving her one, so theft or death is pretty much the choice. It all goes downhill from there.

In a sense, the story is a series of choices that Agnes has to make, each one more morally questionable. Initially, she chooses to keep the flower's benefits for herself, rather than risk sharing it. Then she chooses to try and steal a lock of hair to regain her lost immortality, rather than dying to avoid a relatively minor crime that harms nobody. She's cheated of that option by the way the magic works. The real problem starts when, panicking, she chooses to steal the baby rather than die. Then she chooses to deceive and manipulate her stolen daughter rather than risk her running away. Then she chooses to genuinely betray her (by acting against Rapunzel's interests) to get Rapunzel and her own immortality back. Finally, when the truth comes out, she chooses to resort to force rather than lose Rapunzel and die. Agnes is stuck on a slippery slope, where each decision makes it harder to give up the immortality for which she's done so much, and makes it easier to take the next and wronger step. What she ends up doing, and her treatment of Rapunzel, is clearly wrong, but it's not nearly as simple as her being a wicked old woman.

One of my friends suggested that one reason why Agnes and the Queen are portrayed differently is that people find it creepy for old people to want to be young and live forever; but saving and extending the lives of young, beautiful people is fine. There might be something in that.

A Bit of a Lad

The other thing I found a bit off about Tangled was its hero. Aladdin had a thief hero, but it was a little different. He was clearly a destitute beggar who stole food to live. Flynn Rider, the hero of Tangled, is also from a humble background, but he's more of a professional thief - all we know is that he's conspiring to steal a crown from the palace.

Now, thieves as heroes are a well-established trope in literature. However, Flynn is clearly not only a thief, but an untrustworthy thief. In the film, he's sort of contrasted against the Stabbington Brothers, his partners, in a way that is clearly supposed to show him in a good light. However, if you look at the details, it's rather murkier. He is willingly engaged in the robbery at the palace, and makes it very clear that it's a chance to live in luxury rather than a matter of need. All three are chased by the soldiers and trapped in a dead-end gully. Flynn offers to climb up and help them after him; they don't trust him and insist he leaves the bag with the crown with them. However, once he gets to the top they clearly believe he'll help them escape too. Instead, he reveals the bag he's somehow managed to steal back, mocks them, and runs off to save his own hide. In other words, he betrays his partners and leaves them trapped in a gully to die at the hands of the soldiers. That is not the act of a hero, not even a thief. That is not being a rough diamond, or a rogue. That is being a treacherous backstabbing git. As it happens, the soldiers spot him and chase after him instead, but that's clearly not the intention.

Rather surprisingly, he does behave mostly honourably towards Rapunzel. He does try to deter her from going through with the plan, but since he's a wanted outlaw liable to be killed if he gets spotted in the kingdom, it's not that unreasonable. He's not doing it just to get the crown back. When she does offer him the crown later, he's in love with her and tries to give it to the Stabbington Brothers. To be honest, though, that came across more as a way to weasel out of any comeuppance for his betrayal and get them off his back, rather than a genuine attempt to face up to his actions or any real remorse. Unsurprisingly, they prefer to exact some revenge.

There's also a scene in the middle where they visit a dive. As part of his attempt to persuade Rapunzel to give up the excursion, he takes her to a wretched hive of etc. This being Disney, a bit of eyelid fluttering and a song show up all the murderous thugs as sweethearts deep down. The fact is, though, if it's even remotely as bad at it appears, he has no business taking her there. All the men there are clearly villainous and criminal, and there are no women there at all. Taking a naive 18-year old girl there, while (as we soon find out) not having the ability to protect either of you if there's trouble, is not only utterly stupid but an unforgivable failure of responsibility.

Despite all this, it's the Stabbingtons who are treated as the real criminals, who deserve only to be locked up. They're also the only characters, other than Agnes, who don't get a happy ending: the last we see of them, they're locked in the castle dungeon. Given that Flynn was about to be hanged for stealing the crown, I don't fancy their chances much.

In a way, neither the Stabbingtons or Agnes are villains, any more than Flynn is really a hero. They're all people who are faced with decisions, and sometimes choose the wrong ones. Agnes does wrong to avoid dying, the Stabbingtons and Flynn do wrong for profit, and the Queen does no obvious wrong. The reason they come across differently is that everyone has different choices to make. Agnes has to choose between crime and death; the Queen doesn't have to make that choice. The Stabbingtons and Flynn all choose to steal the crown, but Flynn's the one who chooses to betray them to death. The Stabbingtons choose to seek revenge when it's offered, but Flynn doesn't have any revenge to seek. Flynn is kind to Rapunzel and falls in love with her, but the Stabbingtons don't get the opportunity. The Stabbingtons plan to capture Rapunzel and profit from her powers; Flynn doesn't find out about them until he's already her friend, she's saved his life and they're well on their way to falling in love. It's not that surprising that, treacherous git as he is, he doesn't take that option. Whether he would have or not, we don't know. But while falling in love might redeem people to one another, simply falling in love with Rapunzel doesn't turn Flynn from a thieving, untrustworthy scoundrel into a noble hero.

Fundamentally, though, I'm thinking far too much about a very fun and nicely-executed children's film that I really enjoyed watching. Let's not take it too seriously.

[islamcketta]

How often do three titles coalesce into a relatively coherent expression of the experience of reading them? I was going to call this review “Revisiting Pregnancy Narratives After Three Years of Motherhood” because something made me delve back into this topic almost exactly three years after the birth of my son, but somehow Nobody Told Me, After Birth, and Like a Mother was just perfect. Even (especially?) in its semi-coherence.

I feel blessed to live in an age where such a wealth of literature (fiction and non-) is being produced to counter some of the crap that our culture has converged around as our vision of motherhood. There are precursors, yes, and I’ve written about some of my favorite pregancy books for writers previously, but Nobody Told Me, After Birth, and Like a Mother spoke hard to my mother self, writer or not, and I wanted to share why.

Nobody Told Me

I’ll admit that when my husband gave Nobody Told Me by Hollie McNish for Mother’s Day “because it was on your to-read list” I had absolutely no memory of having ever heard of this book. While people did tell me I’d experience “pregnancy brain,” no one told me (that I remember anyway) my ability to retain information would be permanently altered (or at least that’s my experience so far).

There were so many thing no one told me (and which I cannot remember) that reading McNish’s contemporaneous journal of her pregnancy and first three years of motherhood made me feel wonderfully immersed in that world again. Her voice is gently honest, and whether she’s recounting the everyday indignities (like having no one offer you a seat on the bus when you’re ginormous) or sweetnesses (“When no one is watching, I feel amazing. Like that gigantic, ripe, juicy magic peach”) you’re endeared to her (and, if you’ve been pregnant, to your own memories both good and bad). She’s also deeply generous to the people around her—taking the necessary moments to look at why her grandmother tries to spare her the “embarrassment” of walking around her village pregnant and unwed or when McNish takes pity on her father who is helpless around her child and examines why his generation of men is that way and all the things they’re missing as a result.

I loved that she included her (basically unedited I think) poems in this text, even though I did not always love the poems, because they made me love even more this huge body of work I created while pregnant that I’ve been somewhat embarrassed by (both because I’ve been adding a derogatory “mommy poetry” label to it and because I was new to poetry so a lot of it really isn’t good).

Whether credit goes to me for finding this book (which will be issued in the US this November) or to my husband for having the memory to get it into my hands, I don’t care. I’m just glad I read it and that I read it right now.

Like a Mother

How strange and wonderful it felt to find Like a Mother: A Feminist Journey through the Science and Culture of Pregnancy in a newsletter for a local bookstore because Angela Garbes is a local author and though our worlds have not overlapped, I feel like our experiences have. There was not as much revolutionary science as I hoped in this book (partially because I did get to read Ina Garten and some others who are trying to give pregnant women actual information while I was pregnant), but I still loved the book and I learned a lot of things. Most importantly I learned to trust my own experience.

Garbes is witty and straightforward as she recounts the kinds of stories I have only ever shared with closely trusted family members (maybe I should be better about breaking the “nobody told me�� cycle but I might let Garbes do it for me). From breastfeeding to sex to the importance of being cared for during pregnancy and birth, this book touched so many memories (and nerves) for me.

Through the gory (fascinating) details of the function of the placenta to the beauty of the ways that life and death coexist in a woman’s body as she carries with her forever the cells of motherhood, I felt grief while reading this book and I felt empowered. Most of all I felt normal, a sensation that is far too uncommon in these somewhat lonely days of parenting.

After Birth

Though it was Garbes who wrote about how parents “lean into the utter obliteration of their previous selves,” it’s Elisa Albert who dives all the way into exploring that experience in her novel, After Birth. The thing I love most about this book (among many) is how deeply angry new mother Ari is. It’s something I’ve seen lambasted in reviews, which I understand because it’s directly in opposition to the sweet, loving acceptance we all want to think our mothers immediately felt when we were born, but it’s fucking real. Especially in a world where too many of us are too alone in this event that changes our lives completely.

Ari grapples with a birth that did not go how she wanted it to (this is a euphemism because no one except other mothers really wants to even hear about shitty birth experiences), a body that’s irrevocably changed (torn apart), and a community that either does not or cannot meet her needs (in many cases because they aren’t even there). In short, it’s an all-too-familiar tale, but one that many women suffer in silence. I loved how angry Ari was because anger is the last thing we want moms to express and yet it’s a very real emotion (and one that doesn’t get better if we don’t feel entitled to even feel it).

After Birth can be as uncomfortable to read as the title is to imagine. It’s also funny and dark and real and I want all of my friends to read it and then I want us to say, collectively, all the taboo things about parenting REALLY FUCKING LOUD.

If you want to get real about pregnancy and early parenting, pick up a copy of Nobody Told Me, Like a Mother, and After Birth from Powell’s Books. Your purchase keeps indie booksellers in business and I receive a commission.

The post Nobody Told Me | After Birth | Like a Mother appeared first on A Geography of Reading.

[andy-the-8th]

September '99

Read on AO3

Part 11 of Creatures That Defy Logic

Jess at the end of the first day of high school - some things change change over the summer, some things don't. Some things come back after the summer - and some don't.

A word on characters' ages - I realize that generally you enter 9th grade at 14-15, not 13, so I've been writing most everyone with those ages in mind, Cody and Jess being the only exceptions. I figured Jess might have skipped a grade or started young, and Cody has a May birthday/they weren't really sure how old he was when they found him anyway.

"Alright everyone, one day down, 273 more to go, get on out of here."

The bell rang right as Mr. Derrick, the last-fourth-of-the-alphabet's freshman homeroom teacher, finished. Jess got up from where he was in the back row but waited til most of the room had emptied, the better to avoid the rush into the hall and down to his locker.

All in all the day hadn't really been that bad. The building itself was only a bit larger than the middle school, and that was mostly to allow for a wider variety of classes  and facilities - with such a small town it wasn't like there were other middle schools that fed into one large one, so that meant it wasn't entirely full of unfamiliar faces.

Furthermore, Jess had proactively memorized the map and room designations of all the floors weeks ago - only an amateur nerd would go into new hunting grounds blind. It wasn't like all that information wasn't available in the school bulletins and freshmen incoming packets anyway.

Not that most any other incoming freshmen read the school bulletins or packets - if anything, Jess had sympathized with the more savvy upperclassmen trying to push past the awkward gaggles of freshmen cluttering the halls, craning to see room numbers, running into friends back from the summer - generally causing loud inconveniences everywhere.

Classes were just the usual first-day-of-school routines - stacks of freshly printed-out syllabi, formulaic overview lectures, excessive vaguely-condescending reminders to resist peer pressure and drugs and bullying and such, that one teacher who decided to give actual homework on the first night.

Lunch had also been a pretty standard routine. Jess had half-thought to look for Sam and Jennifer, since they'd hung out over the summer, but knew better than to try to punch above his social weight class on the first day of high school - Sam would either be sitting with the swim team, or with Jennifer and her other friends. Jess didn't want to make it awkward with either of them in front of their friend groups, and honestly wasn't that put off by sitting alone either. He'd been doing it for his whole academic life after all, minus six weeks or so.

Swimming was just as socially-prestigious a sport in Mahone Bay High as it had been in the middle school, and with their class having just won and broke records at the state championships last year, the gossip about who would be joining varsity was inescapable.

It also made the fact that Cody still wasn't there a bit more publicly-noticed than would be ideal.

Jess fortunately hadn't run into Sean at all over the summer since the almost-incident at the library. High school was big enough and busy enough that he actually didn't have to run into him at all in classes either. Definitely an improvement over last year, Jess thought.

A metallic clang on the locker next to him jarringly snapped him out of thought. He closed the door, and behind was waiting the absolute last person Jess wanted to see. Perfect timing, as always.

"Hey Jooooosh," Sean drew out the syllable in mock excitement and familiarity. As usual, he was flanked by two of the other freshmen swim team boys. Jess didn't know or care if they were the ones from the library or not, they were all too generic anyway. They could at least try to look less like his goons, standing just behind Sean, looking down at Jess as he finished zipping his backpack.

Jess looked up at Sean, willing himself to project his usual quirky sarcastic confidence. "Hey John, how was your summer?"

"It's Sean."

"And it's Jess." He put his backpack on and smiled at Sean's annoyed expression. "Sorry, I forgot."

"Ha." Sean made a mirthless sound between a laugh and a scoff. "Summer was alright for me. How about you? Been to the library recently?" It was like he was consciously trying to intimidate Jess by bringing up the memory.

"Well, it is a nerd's natural habitat, so yeah, I have." Refusing to let Sean scare him, or at least let him know he scared him, seemed to be working just fine so far. Just had to get through whatever half-demeaning conversation piece they wanted and walk away.

Sean must have been getting used to Jess's retorts, or come to expect them, or....something - at least, he didn't look at him with that same incredulous anger he had before. Still didn't look happy either.

"So where's Griffin?"

Jess shrugged, a little too performatively to seem genuinely nonchalant. "I don't know, I haven't seen him. I don't think he's in any of my classes this year. Wasn't he with the rest of the swim team at lunch?" He kept his voice even as possible, but it came out shakier than he wanted. Jess wasn't great at lying.

Sean crossed his arms - Jess couldn't tell if he believed his act or not, but wasn't particularly keen on sticking around to find out.

"No, he wasn't. Thought maybe he was hanging with you and the other weirdoes." The boys at his side both snickered a bit. "Do you think he'll show up to varsity tryouts tomorrow?"

Jess ignored the jab - that was nothing new to engage with. "How am I supposed to know?"

"Well aren't you two supposed to be friends now?" He emphasized "friends" strongly but with a whining, effeminate lilt to his voice - Jess had had time to put things together over the summer, what with learning some definitions of things, and was pretty sure he got what Sean was trying to imply about him and Cody.

At least that wasn't something Jess had to lie about. They were just friends. And Cody was with Sam, everyone knew that.

"I guess. He's been away all summer." He thought he sounded pretty convincingly ambivalent. It kind of hurt to socially distance himself from Cody, even if it was just to Sean, even if it was to protect everyone involved.

"Aww, Jessie, that's too bad. Didn't he call?" The swim team goons continued to crack up behind Sean about this. Honestly, Jess couldn't get what was supposed to be so funny, and was ready to be done.

"He was in Australia, genius, that's pretty long distance. Brush up on geography sometime, guys." A small voice in his head advised him it was a risk, but Jess turned his back to them and started walking down the hall to the exits. There were enough people still milling around that he gave it at least 70% odds they wouldn't try anything. Still, Jess knew that figure was based on middle school behavioral statistics - high schoolers allegedly had a higher tolerance for violence and other adolescent idiocy, if media was to be believed.

"Well if you see him, tell him he better not try any of that experimental pills shit at tryouts. I've told the coach to watch out for that already. If he even bothers to show his face."

Jess turned around again, now a good couple meters down the hall. Doesn't hurt to have a bit of a safe distance.

"I don't know what you're talking about, but OK." Jess worried he sounded a little nervous there. Hopefully if he noticed it, Sean would just think he was intimidated for normal, human, definitely-not-keeping-supernatural-secrets reasons. He started walking off again.

"Maybe I couldn't prove anything, but it was awful convenient how he just disappeared for the whole summer, before anyone could double check anything. Just seemed fishy."

That emphasis was a little too close to the truth to be accidental. He burned to say something back - maybe being a merman may have been a little bit of an unfair advantage, but it wasn't like Cody had tried to cheat. There was definitely no reason to talk to the coaches about him like that. Jess might not have had much of his own reputation to protect but damn he wouldn't give it a shot at protecting Cody's - but still. It was too dangerous. For once, Jess swallowed any response. He hated giving Sean the last word, but he could tell it was smartest to back out now.

Besides, for all he knew/guessed, Cody probably wouldn't be joining the swim team again anyway - maybe he would have better control of his condition when he returned, but regularly being in the water in front of watching audiences couldn't be a good idea. But Sean didn't have to know that right now.

Sean also didn't need to know that Cody wasn't just missing from school today - he hadn't come back at all.

"Hmm." Sean could have the last word but Jess would claim the last non-committal non-lexical noise. Jess made it down the hallway, surprised but relieved that Sean didn't try to start anything else. He got out front of the school, walked down the sidewalk to bike racks all the way at the far end from the door, where he'd claimed one of the last spots. He put his helmet on and kicked off, past the lines of cars in the parking lot.

Jess had consciously focused on school as much as possible all day not just out of his usual studiousness, but also to keep his mind off of worrying where Cody might be.

Maybe it was just a mistake. They probably didn't have calendars underwater, and they definitely didn't get the school bulletins. Maybe he was just a few days off.

Maybe Cody was already at home but didn't feel up to coming in so soon. Maybe he was still having trouble controlling his powers.

Maybe he was at school today, and Jess just happened to miss him.

Maybe he was back but he didn't want to see him.

Anxiety getting the better of him, Jess steered out of the school driveway, making the turn toward the Griffins' house.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Sean punched the locker wall in frustration.

"Dude, what is your issue. If he doesn't show that's only better for you, right?"

Caleb had a point - he really shouldn't care this much. High school was different, new rules, new competitions.

"Yeah, whatever. He just better not have any fucking fins if he does."

If Griffin had taken the state title from him fairly, he wouldn't care that much. They had been friends after all, even if they were rivals. But you could only be friends with an equal rival - not some cheating freak.

Especially not some cheating freak who blows you off for some gay little nerd.

"C'mon man, let it go, it's starting to make you look bad. Kid acted like he was barely even scared of you this time." If Kevin was trying to get him to lighten up, that was definitely not the right tack. One thing that always set Sean off was being shown up, in any competition or confrontation. He had to make sure everyone knew he was on top, he was in control.

"Seriously dude, I don't think he had fins. Sure, maybe he took 'roids, or snuck some kind of secret armgear in somehow. But fins are a little far-fetched."

It did sound stupid when phrased like that. "Yeah, you're right."

They started walking down the hall towards the exits. Caleb and Kevin continued talking about varsity tryouts coming the next day, not particularly concerned about whether Griffin was going to turn up past backing up Sean's personal issue with it.

Must be pretty simple when you're only competing for 6th place all the time.

Not that he'd ever say that to them. They were decent swimmers, but they didn't get Sean's mindset of having to be the best.

Dealing with his first-ever silver at the state championships would have been hard enough. Whatever the hell Cody had pulled just made it all the more infuriating, because he should have the gold, if only he'd caught him running off to wherever he went. Being too slow twice in one day had been gnawing at his pride all summer.

And where the hell was he anyway? Sam had consistently blown him off when he'd tried to ask, just the same vague bullshit about his aunt in Australia. Didn't respond to any calls all summer. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen her hang with any of the swim team at all over the summer. Always off with Jen and the rest of them. She wouldn't even say where she was supposedly working (though that was probably just another excuse to ignore people).

Sean decided to push the anxiety about the tryouts out of his head. He'd done all he could by warning the coaches; even though he could tell that they thought he was just being paranoid and competitive, they took drug doping more seriously in high school - if Griffin showed up and tried to cheat again, it'd be like shooting fish in a barrel. Sean half hoped he would - if he were lucky, maybe that would be enough to overturn the state championship records.

And if he didn't show up, then there wasn't any need to worry at all. Can't beat him if he's not even there.

Caleb and Kevin had drifted to social topics as they wound their way down the sidewalks alongside the school building, and Sean eased back into the conversation, out of his own head, once there was a pause.

"So you thought Jess wasn't afraid of me this time?"

"Nah man, but he's like always been kind of weird like that. Like, remember when he got between you and Griffin? Acted like he wanted to get beat up instead?"

God that kid was just fucking strange. Sean had never really had to think about Jess before he and Cody had suddenly become all friendly after that biology project. Or probably more that Jess was following him around, and Griffin was too much of a pushover to get rid of him.

Caleb nodded. "Yeah he's a freak, but it seems like he doesn't get scared as easily as you'd think."

Sean sneered satisfactorily. "Maybe we should fix that next time."

[s0022228a2film-blog]

R. Creative Investigation - Collated Quotes

Style

“they sent me this script and i really liked it, it was very strong. i had never really done something that was more of a horror film, and its funny, because those are the kind of movies that i like probably more than any genre. The script had images in it that i liked - the windmill, the tree of the dead - although i’m not a big horse fan. And its a fascinating story, a story that a lot of people know but that nobody’s really read.”

“succeeded in fitting together in such a way that shifts Alice towards a character that is suddenly more ‘Burtonian’ having an overtly melancholy relationship with her own childhood.” 

“in the end, however, Sleepy Hollow is a Tim Burton film…. something unmistakably the directors own”   

“Burton’s curious ability to rethink anything…. as an experiment in expressionist autobiography is yet again in evidence” 

“when i reread the story, so many elements came together: the Gothic setting, the air of mystery, and the sense that the town itself has a kind of sleepiness to it” 

“its always a great challenge to walk that line between reality and fantasy” 

“ Experiencing his brand of cinema is a lot like walking into an abandoned amusement park, or a haunted carnival, or a nightmarish circus—it’s entertaining—and even endearing at times, but it’s also extremely dark and deeply disturbing”

“ defines exactly what “Burtonesque” is, from the concept of the “heroic loner” to his surrealistic humor”

“ In terms of cinematic style, Burton’s films are—interesting. They’re dark, demented, and nightmarish, but they also have a strange innocence and element of childlike wonder, too. He creates a dichotomy between the gothic and idyllic—the dark and the light—but since it’s Burton, the darks and lights are warped by the funhouse mirror of his creativity” 

“every film is designed to within an inch of its life, with the mise en scene and visual motifs providing so much of what should be considered typical Burton” 

“most of his productions are not filmed on location but on studio sets, often at  great expense, which allows Burton complete control to realise these stunning visual ideas”

“Burton rarely employs tension or suspense”

“it normally does not take more than a few seconds of screen time to realise that you are watching a Burton movie. this is because he employs a number of recurring themes and motifs that create a cohesive and personal vision. in some senses you are not watching a Tim Burton film, but entering his world”

“the key to Burton’s approach with his film projects lies in the way he takes an established genre and twists it” 

“this goes a long way to explain the rare filmic charm of Burton’s work” (explaining how others have been influenced by his style)

“they are the embodiment of a nostalgic youth - the wonder of discovery - like opening up a musty book on a windy night and being unsure as to what’s inside” (talking of Burton’s films in the contest of genre)

“it is the overall aesthetic cohesion that makes his work stand out. conceptually he is far removed from the mainstream, and yet is successful enough to ensure that his name on a film is eminently marketable”

“the project must be right and the studios willing to cough up the cash - but its a price worth paying for what is undoubtedly one of Hollywood’s most fascinating directors”

“Burton’s Sleepy Hollow straddles the border between dark parody and pastiche. The film provides adept commentary on authorship in fairy tales and folktales”

“No contemporary director-producer has as deliciously macabre a signature as Tim Burton”

“ In the garden of Miss Peregrine’s home, there is a topiary of a dinosaur, a reference to one of Tim Burton’s earlier films, Edward Scissorhands (1990), in which the main character, Edward, cuts the shape of a dinosaur into a shrub”

“ Every person in Wonderland/Underland has a proper name. These names were invented for this movie, as in the books and most other movie versions, they are referred to only by descriptive titles…  The size-changing potions are likewise named for the first time”  

“ He has a say in everything present in each scene, from the actors to the symbols ever present in his films that help tell the narrative and reach audiences on a sub-conscious level”

Themes

“the majority of burtons previous films have been fuelled by his strong sense of identification with his lead characters, and his identification in Sleepy Hollow is just as personal, if less obvious.” 

“for burton, sleepy hollows setting is as important as his identification with Ichabod Crane.”

“Burton’s inner world oscillates between a dark almost autistic mode, and carnivalesque display; it is populated by mutations and disguises” 

“she thus represents Burton’s first major female character, stubborn and determined”

 “it is a key to Burton’s universe that only the truly terrified and alone… can face up to the monsters and earn the reward the romantic fulfillment”

“ The Melancholy Death Of An Oyster Boy & Other Stories conveys the pain of an adolescent outsider” 

“like Tim Burton’s movies, the work manages to be both childlike and sophisticated, blending the innocent with the macabre”

“one of the original images in my mind was a character who lies in his head versus a character with no head. i always though it was symbolically wonderful” 

“ In terms of the narrative, Burton’s films, at least from this time, tend to feature a protagonist that Brubaker calls the “heroic loner”, which is quite a departure from the traditional underdog hero that was (and still is) popular in films in that Burton’s heroes aren’t lowly nerds that desire companionship or acceptance from others in their community. His heroes are lowly nerds/goths/super crime fighters that are 100% happy with their lonely existence secluded from others”

“the origins of a character, particularly concerning their parents (or lack of them), form a significant contribution to their psyche”

“the bastard sons of Frankenstein”“the grotesque” “stripes and swirls” “weird sciences and domestic appliances” “television” “snow” “dogs” “Godzilla” “Tim Burton” all of these are key features in multiple Burton’s films, they are almost always present somewhere in the film, all representing something.

“the links between horror, folk tale and fantasy genres have always been strong”

“He has produced a body of work that that focuses on the outcasts of society. his villains are rarely resolutely evil - they’re normally misunderstood. the traditional narrative techniques exist in his films, but secondary to image and feeling”

“Often Burton portrays the normal people, the powerful people, and the conventionally beautiful people as possessing deep character flaws, and the entrenched systems of discourse in which they participate as pervasively corrupt”

“ His films are characteristically quirky; they explore concepts that could never exist in the real world. Since his films are so typically ‘fantasy’, audiences come to expect quirky, unusual stories when a film is associated with him. However, even though they feature things that do not really exist, the films are centred around themes that are very human and relatable”

“ His films also explore social issues such as peer pressure and conformity”

Influences 

“Although Burton has acted as his own producer since Batman Returns, Sleepy Hollows production duties were handled by Scott Rudin and Adam Schroeder.”

“Alice is neither frivolous nor carefree: she believes in her dreams. I liked Mia Wasikowska’s seriousness and maturity”

“Ricci seems a natural inhabitant of Burton’s world, her broad, child-woman face blank in adoration of her deeply embarrassed swain, credibly witchlike, chaste but not asexual, clearly willing to step into madness if that’s what it takes to join the man she loves” 

“i wanted to make a film that was respectful to the source material but also tapped into some of the visual influences of the classic hammer horror films of the 1950′s 1960′s”

“expressionism if fundamental to the Burton ethos and many of the classics of early German cinema seen to have had an effect on his work, perhaps because of saturation of images that came from these influential films” 

. “what makes a Burton film so magical is the influence of past absurdities and eccentricities”

��he doesn’t intentionally waste studio money, but follows his instincts as to what he would like to see” 

“Burton has said, he tended to sleep between twelve and fourteen hours a day, a fair amount of his time on the job. To trick his employers, he often dozed upright with a pen in one hand (Salisbury 1995, 10). During this sluggish period, Burton produced some short films such as Vincent (1982), Hansel and Gretel (1982), and Frankenweenie (1984)”  

“Burton primarily discusses his familiarity with contemporary versions of the tale, giving a vague impression that he may never have read Irving’s story that closely for inspiration” (talking of sleepy hollow)

“Burton has spoken on one or two occasions about his influences, including fairy tales:

Because I never read, my fairy tales were probably those monster movies. To me they’re fairly similar. I mean, fairy tales are extremely violent and extremely symbolic and disturbing

I think I’ve always liked the idea of fairy tales or folktales, because they’re symbolic of something else. There’s a foundation to them, but there’s more besides, they’re open to interpretation… . So I think I didn’t like fairy tales specifically. I liked the idea of them more” 

“His philosophy of life and film is partly shaped by the possibilities he has long seen in the realm of dark cinematic fantasy”

“In particular, he has commented repeatedly on the importance of his early hero, actor Vincent Price, and the cinematic adaptations of Edgar Allan Poe”

“ Tim Burton aimed to use as few digital effects as possible; “It was nice to shoot on location, to be connected to a place, and geography, while having people actually floating, as opposed to doing it all digitally”

“ Ransom Riggs’ novel was partly inspired by otherworldly vintage photographs, one of them being a cover-shot of a levitating girl. The author collected these at flea markets, included them in the book, and later showed them all to Tim Burton, before filming began”

“In the books, Olive is one of the youngest girls, and has the ability to float. The inhumanly strong Bronwyn, is around the same age as Jake and Emma, and Emma has the ability to control fire. In the film, the ages of Olive and Bronwyn, and the abilities of Olive and Emma, are switched, with Emma also gaining the ability to control air” 

“ Before Tim Burton was involved with the project, Anne Hathaway was offered the titular role of Alice, but she turned it down because it was too similar to other roles she had previously played. However, she was keen to work with Burton, so was pleased to be cast as the White Queen. She shot all her scenes in two weeks”

“ Tim Burton and Johnny Depp worked hard to give the Mad Hatter more depth and presence than in past portrayals. In fact, the pair swapped sketches and themes for the character prior to creating this new version” 

“ He was very introspective, looking at things in a symbolic and very poetic way. While he was not an avid reader, he did identify with the work of Edgar Allan Poe, Dr Seuss and Roald Dahl for its imagery and symbolism” 

[learnspanishfans]

No More Excuses! How to Stop Whining and Start Learning a Language

What holds you back from speaking another language? Perhaps you tell yourself:

I’m not good at language learning. I flunked languages in school.

This language was okay when I started, but now it’s too difficult.

I don’t have enough money to travel the world and properly learn this language.

I’m too old to learn a language.

There’s no point learning a language because so many people speak English.

Do any of these sound familiar? Let’s take a look at these excuses in depth, so you can break through the barriers that hold you back from language learning and actually get on with learning a language.

“I was no good at languages in school, so I’m not cut out to learn languages”

I hear this one a lot. You studied a language for years at school and never got good grades. Or maybe you did get straight A’s, but shocked yourself at how badly you did when it came to using the language in the real world. Either way, it convinced you that becoming fluent in a foreign language was never “meant to be”, and this made you feel better about your apparent defeat. The exact same thing happened to me in school, and I told myself the same thing. I managed to convince myself for years that I didn’t have what it takes to learn a foreign language. The truth is, all I needed was to look at language learning from a different perspective. Once I found the way that worked for me, I realized that my grades in school were in no way related to my ability to learn (and love!) other languages. Regardless of the subject, you should never use your performance at school as a predictor of your future success or failure. When Charles Darwin was at school, all he studied was Ancient Greek, Latin, as well as a little geography and history. Science didn’t enter the equation. And he didn’t even do well at school. In Darwin’s own words:

“When I left school … I believe that I was considered by all my masters and by my father as a very ordinary boy, rather below the common standard of intellect.”

Imagine if Darwin said, “Well, I’d like to learn about the natural world, but I wasn’t smart at school, so...meh!” The way languages are taught in school doesn’t suit everybody. As an adult, you can develop your own approach to language learning. Languages are particularly well-suited to this. There are tons of ways to study languages! I use a variety of methods, and have refined them into a language learning system that works for me. My approach might work well for you, too, but if it doesn’t, don’t be afraid to experiment to find the ways that do work for you.

“The language I’m learning is too difficult”

Have you ever stalled in your language learning and felt that the language you’ve chosen is too difficult? It happens to all of us. Over the years, I’ve discovered that a language’s difficulty is purely in the eye of the beholder. If you’re ready to throw in the towel on one language, chances are, you’ll end up doing the same thing on the next one, even if it’s supposedly “easier”. This is because for every comparatively “easy” feature of a language, you can find another comparatively “difficult” feature. The level of difficulty ends up balancing out among languages. Therefore, your perception of your chosen language as “too difficult” really comes down more to attitude than to the actual difficulty of the language. Try to focus on the easy aspects of your chosen language to boost your motivation. Are you finding Hungarian difficult? Well, at least you don’t have all those tones and characters like Mandarin! Are you studying Mandarin and finding it hard? Well at least you never have to deal with all those noun cases like Russian, which has seven! I could go on, but the point is, any language can be “too hard” if you choose to look at it from that perspective. In my case, Spanish was my most difficult language to learn, because it was the first new language I learned as an adult. I lived in Spain for months without learning anything beyond the basics. Spanish was difficult because of the mental hang-ups I had about language learning - not because it’s a difficult language to learn.

“It takes years to learn a language”

This is a really common myth, because it’s partly true. Reaching mastery in a language does take years. I firmly believe that anyone can start speaking a language as little as a week. Think about why you want to speak another language. Most people want to learn another language to communicate. To connect with other people. This absolutely does not require mastery of the language. Do you need to understand Shakespeare to have a chat in English about your city with your taxi driver or to order a rum and coke at a bar? Of course not! So why put these demands on yourself to do the same thing in your target language? Drop this perfectionist mindset and focus on short-term goals instead of your endgame. If you truly do wish to master your foreign language to native-like proficiency someday, that’s a really admirable goal. If you’re determined, then you will get there eventually. But right now, focus on what you want to learn today, or this week. Remember: every time you learn a new word or phrase in your target language, that’s something extra you can communicate to a native speaker. Fluency is nothing more than a series of small victories like this. And it can be achieved in much less time than you think.

“There’s never a good time to start”

So you’ve been meaning to sit down and start learning a new language, but every time you decide to do it, something gets in the way and postpones your plans. Yes, life happens to all of us. But if life continuously gets in the way of your language learning, then you need to ask yourself: Am I really committed to language learning? Suppose you’ve been planning a big birthday party for a friend, but on the day of the party, you find out that the custom cake order you had placed at the bakery got lost, and now there’s no cake! What do you do? A) Cancel the entire party. Without that custom cake, what’s the point? B) Postpone the party to another day when the custom cake is ready. C) Head to your local supermarket or bakery and pick up a generic cake, and have the party today anyway even though it’s not exactly what you had planned. I bet you picked option C. Sure, the conditions aren’t perfect, your funny birthday message wasn’t written on your friend’s cake and it’s not their favourite flavour, but I bet it still ends up a fun party! Why, then, do so many people choose the equivalent of option A or B when it comes to language learning? Instead of treating their study plan like a birthday party that could easily go ahead despite a few hiccups, they treat it like a shuttle launch at Cape Canaveral that could be a question of life or death if atmospheric conditions aren’t perfect! Believing that “someday” the conditions will be perfect enough for you to start some task is as much a lie in language learning as it is in the rest of your life. You don’t ask your professor to postpone the final exam because you don’t feel ready for it. You just go in and do the best you can with the amount of studying you managed to squeeze in. You wouldn’t skip dinner because you don’t have enough time to cook that filet mignon you’re craving. You’d just cook something that takes less time. And you shouldn’t put off studying the language you’ve always dreamed of learning simply because the conditions aren’t perfect. Allow me to let you in on a secret. You will never see the “perfect” conditions for studying your target language. Stuff might come up that eats into your study schedule. If you were planning to study for an hour today but can now only spare twenty minutes, don’t just skip your studying altogether. You’ll end up filling those twenty minutes with an episode of The Simpsons or something (unless it’s an episode dubbed in your target language, in which case, carry on!). Meanwhile, you could have spent that time learning two new sentences patterns in your target language, reviewing what you learned yesterday, or memorising ten new words of vocabulary. Even if you can only spare five minutes today, don’t skip it. That’s five fewer minutes you’ll need to spend tomorrow. All those small chunks of studying will add up to some huge strides in your language skills. Remember: “A year from now, you’ll wish you had started today” —Karen Lamb

“I’m too old to learn a new language”

More lies! If you’re alive, and alert enough to read this sentence, then you’re not too old to learn a language. There’s a common myth out there that children are better at learning languages than adults, which is nonsense. Popular opinion is easily swayed based on one flawed, but highly publicised, research study when another one might come about with other data that contradicts it. Then everyone just takes the result for granted, and never questions its validity. It can take years, even decades, for the damage from such studies to be reversed. Wherever this old, worn-out myth about children and languages came from, we’re finally seeing modern, verifiable research that proves adults are actually better at learning languages than children. Not that I really needed to see the research to know that it’s true. Adults of all ages, myself included, are constantly proving that they can be successful at language learning. And so can you! Just look around you at all of the successful adult language learners out there, and take your inspiration from them.

“English is all I need anyway when I’m travelling”

It’s true that the tourism industry around the world largely operates in English. When you go on holiday in a foreign country, this can give you the impression that everyone in that country speaks English at an intermediate level. Stray from the main tourist areas, however, and you’ll likely get a big wake-up call about the English skills of the average citizen of that country. If all you ever want from a vacation is to stick to the beaten path, and for all your interactions with foreigners to be completely dependent on their competence in English, then sure, I suppose English is all you need. But what if you want more? Many people want to experience the world differently. They want to speak with people that they never would have been able to otherwise, at a level beyond average, superficial daily interactions. They want to get deep inside a culture and see what it looks like from the perspective of someone who speaks the local language. If this describes you, then English is definitely not all you’ll ever need.

“I don’t have enough money to learn a language”

Do you have enough money to afford an internet connection? Then you have enough money to learn a language. Language exchange sites like italki are free. Omniglot is a free site featuring a list of useful phrases for every language imaginable. Self-study apps like Duolingo are free. There are hundreds of free podcasts for practically any language you could want to learn. The internet is full of free web forums for language help and encouragement. You might have to do a bit of digging to find resources that work for you, but trust me, they’re out there. It’s true that free language-learning resources can vary in quality and usefulness. If you have a little bit of money to put toward your language mission, there are also some highly affordable and cost-effective paid products and services out there that provide a huge return on investment. For instance, you can pay a community tutor on italki for regular Skype lessons that fit your schedule and goals. They can be as frequent or as occasional as you like, and you and the tutor can work together to tailor the lessons to your needs and wishes. They’re also generally far more affordable than an in-person private tutor, or even a full-sized language class. You can also spend a few dollars on joining a good community such as the Add1 Challenge. This allows you to get together with like-minded language learners to share language learning tips, work together toward a common goal, and keep one another accountable. Things that you don’t have to spend big bucks on to effectively learn a language include expensive software with lofty promises, a plane ticket to the country where your target language is spoken, and local language school courses with a dozen other students whose goals are vastly different from yours. Don’t be deceived by the notion that you need to spend, spend, spend to achieve your language goals. Far better to carefully target your dollars into effective language products.

What’s Your Excuse for Not Learning a Language?

Have you ever tricked yourself into believing a false reason for stalling in your language progress? I want to hear about it! What changed your mind? Head over to the comments and tell me your story.

The post No More Excuses! How to Stop Whining and Start Learning a Language appeared first on Fluent in 3 months - Language Hacking and Travel Tips.

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[pankopop]

(Dis)Content Creators

Youtubers, 2014’s lasting models of Harrasment, and how the internet is suddenly a lot more left than you’d think.

(Note: pardon the messy mishmash of Unicѻde characters here and there, I’d rather not be part of the witch hunt for masturbatory mass-debαting, and I find flying under the S.E.O. radar helps that endeavor.)

Recently, Јѻntroп’s been acting the right dick. He’s never been the smartest cookie, and it’s not his paid job to be the shining example of internet public figuredom. But people are kinda reasonably pissed about his “whats wrong about locking refugees out lol” tweetstorm of late. And a lot of it, I’m sure, is a kind of disappointment. There’s a lot of people out there who look up to him, know his life story, and I guess for some reason expected more compassion from him.

To be honest, this isn’t super surprising to anyone who’s familiar with the circles of the Youtube creators. While there’s lots of crossover, and some inevitable bickering here and there, you can roughly feel out the corners of the map.

There’s a contingent of mostly fairly funny and talented animators who met on Nҽwgrѻunds and ended up on Youtube (which ended up sucking for said animators). It’s a tremendous shame that the general humor of the group turned so obsessively toward “Fҽmιnαzϊ SЈש censorship” and anti-sheeple insular rhetoric. But nonetheless, they and Јѻn ended up being quite close knit, and yeah, of course he was going to be a bit emboldened.

Јѻn has always been a bit politically green – I remember him in a podcast (might have been one of the old TGS Co-Optionαl podcasts) where he was trying to defend his claim that people shouldn’t get mad about videogame representations of women, with a woman present. It was like watching a cat fight its collar. He was a consequence free child of the 2007 internet age where “rape” and “retarded” were words to throw out for shock effect. He ended up on rҽddιt, the magical internet island of lost boys who never grow up. Women aren’t oppressed, racism is over, yadda yadda.

In turn, a symbolic partnership with Sӑrgѻп of Ѧkҟӓd, a non-face of gӑṃеrgatҽ, was nothing special. It doesn’t take much to join in the circle jerk; tweet about cultish sheeple being racist toward MEN and you’ve earned yourself a seat.

Still, how dangerous can the partnership of such a pop icon and a chin stroking self-acclaimed genius of a cock get? How will this play out?

To be honest, I think it’s been playing out since it began. It got us into this political mess, and remains the swarming gadflies of twitter we know and love today.

MECHANISMS OF THE GATE

This cybercultural partnership between pop culture and the rҽichwing should remind us about the ways in which Gӑṃеrgatҽ still affects the current political climate, specifically in online spheres. Notably, it’s interesting to see the cultural attitudes remain the same. Even in the face of finding something absolutely ridiculous to defend, the urge to take the pseudo-philosophical discѻurse to fucking prove intellectual superiority™ is apparently too delicious.

During my Bachelor, I researched that 2014 pissbaby fiasco to death. I would work it in to whatever essay I could, and for a while compulsively hoarded every available peer- reviewed article on online-shittiness-culture I could find. Something I wrote a lot about when I was filtering through gӑṃеrgatҽ’s language was not only a unified lexicon of insult, posturing, and argumentation, but a specific frameworks and ideologies of rationality.

Almost all of gӑṃеrgatҽ was hinged on insisting on two things:

-Race doesn’t exist, it’s not a thing, so stop making it a thing. If you’re talking about race, then you’re using PoC as an argumentative crutch, and surely no better than a racist. Erasure must occur, because I don’t want to have to defend my view that whiteness is normalcy.

-Gender does exist, it’s binary, and all common-sense differences between genders are rooted in biological fact. For example, women don’t play real video games because their biological drive for empathy stops them from shooting baddies.

(Queerness, and expression thereof, are often side stepped. Usually lumped into the race category - “gay people have nothing to do with it”. Sometimes lumped into the gender category, as often non-normative heteromasculinity is seen as performed.)

Regarding race, it is an argument of who belongs. Regarding gender, it is an argument of who is superior. These tenets of social structure in the world of “whoever debates wins” are still smeared across the comment sections of the world today. It’s only been two and a half years. The people who felt empowered in the gӑṃеrgatҽ movement will hold these attitudes close. 

It appears to me that the biology-backed “common-sense” ideologies regarding gender superiority remain at wild play here. It’s a language of caricatures, and the SЈש is a woman.

The ideological transposition seems to go like this:

The woman, who lacks rationality, and is more prone to emotional outbursts of empathy. is not endowed, biologically, with the clearheaded, objective rationality of men. Therefore, even their empathy is comparatively feigned and weightless, and like the difference between a three year old crying over spilt milk vs. a grown man’s grievance over the death of a loved one.

The thing about worldviews like this is that once the first egg becomes a chicken, it doesn’t take long for the chicken to lay an egg.

Where maybe at first, the SЈש was a kind of woman, but types and tokens blur. All women become likely SЈשs. Women become SЈשs when they have a point that doesn’t align with a man. Eventually, the SЈש is just the woman out of line, refusing to virtuously lick the philosopher-king’s boots and parrot their objectivities.

But this accusation would be an affront to a gӑṃеrgatҽ-minded uberṃҽinsch! Pure sexism actually! Who’s talking about gender here!? We were only talking about how SЈשs are unreasonable! YOU’RE the one being sexist.

You can trace some of that same DNA of the Discѻurse™ around the refugee crisis. As soon as you reframe/move the goalposts of a racist problem to a Nationality problem, then you cannot by definition be islamophobic, because you’re not talking about humans anymore. You’re talking geography. Even though you did just totally say something incredibly racist, it doesn’t count cuz the tweet was deleted.

I’ve seen the term “Virtue Positioning” being tossed around recently. It’s interesting to note that as the subjects for debate get bloodier and messier and death counts become necessarily attributed to it, the goobermeinsch’s rebuttal is that empathy is sidestepping the issue. Who cares if people die, the important part is I’m taking you to town in INTELLECTUAL CHESS! WHOO! (It matters not that I will only frame the debate in ways where I win).

The positioning that’s actually going on is ideological frameworks of gender being set up so that the left is female, the right is male, and therefore the right wins. It’s what fuelled gӑṃеrgatҽ in 2014, and I guess the tactic’s effective enough to keep around.

“WHATEVER-DUDE” SOLUTIONS

What do you do when confronted then? I feel it would be pointless bringing this similarity up and leaving it hanging. If there’s been two years of resisting this harassment, then there’s gotta be some methods to employ.

When you’re asked to play house-rules calvinball, you know that you’re not going to win any medals. What can debate possibly hope to accomplish right now?

“Whatever dude. Have a good life.”

We are not here to debate. We are here to donate. We are here to protest. We are here to resist.

(DISCLAIMER: I mean, for god’s sake listen to the people who have legitimate problems and call-outs. Intersectionality is not divisive, it is the all-too-frayed twine that will unite people together, and everyone resisting would do well to strengthen our bonds with allies by throwing out our fuckhead perceptions about immutable goodness of the ego.)

The march does not halt to win over a “well AAAAaactually...” Your arguments belong with the demanding of accountability. Your energy should be spent doing what you can to help those who you can help. Internet progressives, just do your thing. Be there for the oppressed, and win the day - or as many days you can.

The Right’s not winning people over right now – when you get what you want out of a scam, you don’t hang around and try to patch up friendships. The thing about supporting and defending fascism is that before long, they turn you into an outsider. It doesn’t matter who you are, if your eyebrows are a bit too thick you’ll become a muslim. Your sexual deviancy makes you dangerous. Your chronic illness makes you a leech. Could just be a wrong place, wrong time. No matter how many boots you lick, they will step on you.

Sooner or later, people will see the trouble they’re in. They’ll convert. The Right’s numbers are always borrowed. Until that point, we’re gonna look real cultish to the cult. That’s how cults work: the world’s gone to shit and you’re the only “sane” ones.

YOUR HEROES ARE LEFT

There’s at least one silver lining to this cross-section of internet personality and this general craziness: a good majority of Youtube personalities know what’s up. In the last few weeks, I’ve seen a lot of people drop the apolitical guise. It’s not that they were centrists before - talking politics was just dodgy in the industry. But there’s a healthy amount of “fuck it” right now, and I’m happy for all of those sore, long-bitten tongues. I’m glad there’s enough of a contingent of generally older, 20+ viewers and consumers and patrons to send words of support and relief that their podcast hosts aren’t ทαzi sympathizers. There’s still a wall of sludge, but skins are being quickly hardened.

I’m most happy for all the kids. All of those 15 year olds who thought they were on the culture war’s hateful winning side, to wake up one day and their twitter feed is filled with distressed, active, and empathetic people. Marching and resisting.

Although it’s certainly not the entire story, a lot of these personalities are looked up to. They are the adults who “get” videogames, who talk about Anime and comic books – they’re 2017’s equivalent to the cool record shop owner in the 70’s who introduces you to punk.

I hope this “fuckit” storm shattered a lot of assumptions, and I hope that it spurs a reconsidering of the places where the good stuff on the internet comes from. (Hint: it’s not hatred).

[learnspanishfans]

No More Excuses! How to Stop Whining and Start Learning a Language

What holds you back from speaking another language? Perhaps you tell yourself:

I’m not good at language learning. I flunked languages in school.

This language was okay when I started, but now it’s too difficult.

I don’t have enough money to travel the world and properly learn this language.

I’m too old to learn a language.

There’s no point learning a language because so many people speak English.

Do any of these sound familiar? Let’s take a look at these excuses in depth, so you can break through the barriers that hold you back from language learning and actually get on with learning a language.

“I was no good at languages in school, so I’m not cut out to learn languages”

I hear this one a lot. You studied a language for years at school and never got good grades. Or maybe you did get straight A’s, but shocked yourself at how badly you did when it came to using the language in the real world. Either way, it convinced you that becoming fluent in a foreign language was never “meant to be”, and this made you feel better about your apparent defeat. The exact same thing happened to me in school, and I told myself the same thing. I managed to convince myself for years that I didn’t have what it takes to learn a foreign language. The truth is, all I needed was to look at language learning from a different perspective. Once I found the way that worked for me, I realized that my grades in school were in no way related to my ability to learn (and love!) other languages. Regardless of the subject, you should never use your performance at school as a predictor of your future success or failure. When Charles Darwin was at school, all he studied was Ancient Greek, Latin, as well as a little geography and history. Science didn’t enter the equation. And he didn’t even do well at school. In Darwin’s own words:

“When I left school … I believe that I was considered by all my masters and by my father as a very ordinary boy, rather below the common standard of intellect.”

Imagine if Darwin said, “Well, I’d like to learn about the natural world, but I wasn’t smart at school, so...meh!” The way languages are taught in school doesn’t suit everybody. As an adult, you can develop your own approach to language learning. Languages are particularly well-suited to this. There are tons of ways to study languages! I use a variety of methods, and have refined them into a language learning system that works for me. My approach might work well for you, too, but if it doesn’t, don’t be afraid to experiment to find the ways that do work for you.

“The language I’m learning is too difficult”

Have you ever stalled in your language learning and felt that the language you’ve chosen is too difficult? It happens to all of us. Over the years, I’ve discovered that a language’s difficulty is purely in the eye of the beholder. If you’re ready to throw in the towel on one language, chances are, you’ll end up doing the same thing on the next one, even if it’s supposedly “easier”. This is because for every comparatively “easy” feature of a language, you can find another comparatively “difficult” feature. The level of difficulty ends up balancing out among languages. Therefore, your perception of your chosen language as “too difficult” really comes down more to attitude than to the actual difficulty of the language. Try to focus on the easy aspects of your chosen language to boost your motivation. Are you finding Hungarian difficult? Well, at least you don’t have all those tones and characters like Mandarin! Are you studying Mandarin and finding it hard? Well at least you never have to deal with all those noun cases like Russian, which has seven! I could go on, but the point is, any language can be “too hard” if you choose to look at it from that perspective. In my case, Spanish was my most difficult language to learn, because it was the first new language I learned as an adult. I lived in Spain for months without learning anything beyond the basics. Spanish was difficult because of the mental hang-ups I had about language learning - not because it’s a difficult language to learn.

“It takes years to learn a language”

This is a really common myth, because it’s partly true. Reaching mastery in a language does take years. I firmly believe that anyone can start speaking a language as little as a week. Think about why you want to speak another language. Most people want to learn another language to communicate. To connect with other people. This absolutely does not require mastery of the language. Do you need to understand Shakespeare to have a chat in English about your city with your taxi driver or to order a rum and coke at a bar? Of course not! So why put these demands on yourself to do the same thing in your target language? Drop this perfectionist mindset and focus on short-term goals instead of your endgame. If you truly do wish to master your foreign language to native-like proficiency someday, that’s a really admirable goal. If you’re determined, then you will get there eventually. But right now, focus on what you want to learn today, or this week. Remember: every time you learn a new word or phrase in your target language, that’s something extra you can communicate to a native speaker. Fluency is nothing more than a series of small victories like this. And it can be achieved in much less time than you think.

“There’s never a good time to start”

So you’ve been meaning to sit down and start learning a new language, but every time you decide to do it, something gets in the way and postpones your plans. Yes, life happens to all of us. But if life continuously gets in the way of your language learning, then you need to ask yourself: Am I really committed to language learning? Suppose you’ve been planning a big birthday party for a friend, but on the day of the party, you find out that the custom cake order you had placed at the bakery got lost, and now there’s no cake! What do you do? A) Cancel the entire party. Without that custom cake, what’s the point? B) Postpone the party to another day when the custom cake is ready. C) Head to your local supermarket or bakery and pick up a generic cake, and have the party today anyway even though it’s not exactly what you had planned. I bet you picked option C. Sure, the conditions aren’t perfect, your funny birthday message wasn’t written on your friend’s cake and it’s not their favourite flavour, but I bet it still ends up a fun party! Why, then, do so many people choose the equivalent of option A or B when it comes to language learning? Instead of treating their study plan like a birthday party that could easily go ahead despite a few hiccups, they treat it like a shuttle launch at Cape Canaveral that could be a question of life or death if atmospheric conditions aren’t perfect! Believing that “someday” the conditions will be perfect enough for you to start some task is as much a lie in language learning as it is in the rest of your life. You don’t ask your professor to postpone the final exam because you don’t feel ready for it. You just go in and do the best you can with the amount of studying you managed to squeeze in. You wouldn’t skip dinner because you don’t have enough time to cook that filet mignon you’re craving. You’d just cook something that takes less time. And you shouldn’t put off studying the language you’ve always dreamed of learning simply because the conditions aren’t perfect. Allow me to let you in on a secret. You will never see the “perfect” conditions for studying your target language. Stuff might come up that eats into your study schedule. If you were planning to study for an hour today but can now only spare twenty minutes, don’t just skip your studying altogether. You’ll end up filling those twenty minutes with an episode of The Simpsons or something (unless it’s an episode dubbed in your target language, in which case, carry on!). Meanwhile, you could have spent that time learning two new sentences patterns in your target language, reviewing what you learned yesterday, or memorising ten new words of vocabulary. Even if you can only spare five minutes today, don’t skip it. That’s five fewer minutes you’ll need to spend tomorrow. All those small chunks of studying will add up to some huge strides in your language skills. Remember: “A year from now, you’ll wish you had started today” —Karen Lamb

“I’m too old to learn a new language”

More lies! If you’re alive, and alert enough to read this sentence, then you’re not too old to learn a language. There’s a common myth out there that children are better at learning languages than adults, which is nonsense. Popular opinion is easily swayed based on one flawed, but highly publicised, research study when another one might come about with other data that contradicts it. Then everyone just takes the result for granted, and never questions its validity. It can take years, even decades, for the damage from such studies to be reversed. Wherever this old, worn-out myth about children and languages came from, we’re finally seeing modern, verifiable research that proves adults are actually better at learning languages than children. Not that I really needed to see the research to know that it’s true. Adults of all ages, myself included, are constantly proving that they can be successful at language learning. And so can you! Just look around you at all of the successful adult language learners out there, and take your inspiration from them.

“English is all I need anyway when I’m travelling”

It’s true that the tourism industry around the world largely operates in English. When you go on holiday in a foreign country, this can give you the impression that everyone in that country speaks English at an intermediate level. Stray from the main tourist areas, however, and you’ll likely get a big wake-up call about the English skills of the average citizen of that country. If all you ever want from a vacation is to stick to the beaten path, and for all your interactions with foreigners to be completely dependent on their competence in English, then sure, I suppose English is all you need. But what if you want more? Many people want to experience the world differently. They want to speak with people that they never would have been able to otherwise, at a level beyond average, superficial daily interactions. They want to get deep inside a culture and see what it looks like from the perspective of someone who speaks the local language. If this describes you, then English is definitely not all you’ll ever need.

“I don’t have enough money to learn a language”

Do you have enough money to afford an internet connection? Then you have enough money to learn a language. Language exchange sites like italki are free. Omniglot is a free site featuring a list of useful phrases for every language imaginable. Self-study apps like Duolingo are free. There are hundreds of free podcasts for practically any language you could want to learn. The internet is full of free web forums for language help and encouragement. You might have to do a bit of digging to find resources that work for you, but trust me, they’re out there. It’s true that free language-learning resources can vary in quality and usefulness. If you have a little bit of money to put toward your language mission, there are also some highly affordable and cost-effective paid products and services out there that provide a huge return on investment. For instance, you can pay a community tutor on italki for regular Skype lessons that fit your schedule and goals. They can be as frequent or as occasional as you like, and you and the tutor can work together to tailor the lessons to your needs and wishes. They’re also generally far more affordable than an in-person private tutor, or even a full-sized language class. You can also spend a few dollars on joining a good community such as the Add1 Challenge. This allows you to get together with like-minded language learners to share language learning tips, work together toward a common goal, and keep one another accountable. Things that you don’t have to spend big bucks on to effectively learn a language include expensive software with lofty promises, a plane ticket to the country where your target language is spoken, and local language school courses with a dozen other students whose goals are vastly different from yours. Don’t be deceived by the notion that you need to spend, spend, spend to achieve your language goals. Far better to carefully target your dollars into effective language products.

What’s Your Excuse for Not Learning a Language?

Have you ever tricked yourself into believing a false reason for stalling in your language progress? I want to hear about it! What changed your mind? Head over to the comments and tell me your story.

The post No More Excuses! How to Stop Whining and Start Learning a Language appeared first on Fluent in 3 months - Language Hacking and Travel Tips.

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