#mousie reviews

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: double chapters when I know I shouldn't.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“We got a suite available, Amalia?” The man, the owner of this casino, Bucky, asks as he approaches the glass counter of the hotel lobby. You barely keep up as your surroundings smear and your head spins. Everything’s happening so fast. 

“Mr. Barnes,” the woman on the other side greets as she nears the slim monitor, “I think we should.” She glances at him, then your sister as she blathers drunkenly in his arms, “having a good night?” 

“Oh, just some friends in the city for a night,” he lies easily, “she got a bit carried away so we’ll let her sleep it off.” 

You chew your lip as you stand just behind him. Your stomach lurches as your eyes wander around the fine decor. It’s all out of your price range. Again, your brain is a beat behind.  

“Doll, would you get that?” He asks as the desk agent holds out a small folder. 

“Oh, yeah, er,” you rush up to take the room keys, “sorry.” 

“No problem, just got my hands full,” he scoffs, “Amalia, have a good night. Hopefully you don’t get anyone too rowdy.” 

“Thank you, sir, you too,” she preens after him as he heads off across the lobby. 

Once more you’re on his heels as he struts toward the elevators. You catch up to him and force the frog from your throat, “uh, sir, Bucky?” You stammer, “I don’t think... I can afford--” 

“Doll, don’t worry about all that. It's on the house,” he stops before the elevator and stares at the golden doors, “I’m not some sort of grifter. I offered, I’m not gonna squeeze ya. What’s the room number?” 

“Er, oh,” you open the little folder, “720.” 

“Right, hit the button,” he nods before him. 

“Sorry,” you cringe again. You’re so behind. It must be so obvious to him how lost you are. Maybe that’s why he noticed you. He feels bad that someone so pathetic could exist. 

You press the up button and the doors open. He nods you ahead of him and you step into the box. The walls are transparent and you can see outside along the river. He gets in and comes to stand parallel with you as you avoid looking through the glass. 

“Seven,” he says. 

You make another mousy noise and tap the button. You recoil, clutching your hands over your chest, and stare at the doors. As the elevator rises, you feel a wave of head rush, and you sway just a little. You gulp and widen your eyes. 

“Not a fan of heights?” He asks as the box stops sharply and the doors ding and open. 

“Not really,” you mutter. 

He waits for you to exit first and you eagerly do. He follows as you look back and forth between the doors, searching out the number to match the folder. 720, right at the end. You fumble and it takes three tries to swipe the card correctly.  

Finally, the door opens and you push it inward, holding it as you flatten yourself to the wall to let him through. He enters without hesitation. For a moment, you wonder what it must be like to be so sure and so comfortable in a place like this. To have this be your normal.

You let go of the door and trail him further inside. The room is huge. Not just one room, but two. The front room is closed off by a pair of doors, painted white with fine spirals etched into the wood. You flit ahead of Bucky to slide them open and reveal the bedroom. He takes your sister to the bed and lays her down as she lets out a bubbly belch. 

“Sorry,” you apologise on her behalf as you hover in the door. 

“She’s her own person,” he stands back, “you need anything, call down to the desk. They’ll be happy to get you whatever. Oh, and, should probably have some water ready for the morning. She’s gonna be feeling this.” 

“Right,” you push your lip out then quickly fix your face, “thank you. I...” 

“Checkouts at eleven but I’ll tell Amalia to mark you down for a late departure,” he comes towards you slowly. 

“Oh, we won’t stay that long,” you assure him and scrape your palms together. 

“Ah, you got somewhere to be? Work? Gonna be a long day after tonight.” 

“No, I... I don’t...” your eyes drift to the wall. Again, you can’t help but admire the ivory paint and the crystal lamp and tall posts of the bed. “I don’t... have a job.” 

“Mm, tough out there,” he says, “just gotta find the right thing, huh?” 

You want to fold into nothing. This man, a millionaire at least, who owns this whole place, is telling you you’ll find something one day. Just like your mom does when you melt down over another rejection. Ugh. 

“Thanks, yeah,” you take a heavy breath. 

“You’re tired,” he surprises you as he caresses your sleeve, “I’m not gonna keep you up. You get some sleep, alright?” 

You nod and reach to scratch your neck, shifting away from his reach. He’s so much bigger than you that for a moment your stomach is crawling, as the thought occurs of how much control he really has. Not just because of who he is. 

“Good night, doll,” he purrs and brushes by you. 

You stay as you are, staring at your sister, muttering to herself. Why does she have to do this? You could be sleeping in your own bed but instead you’re here, burning in shame and pity. You turn as you hear him near the door. 

“Night,” you offer up. 

He stops and turns back, sending you a wink, “there’s a hot tub in here so... might enjoy the room at least.” 

You force a smile though your stress likely makes it more a grimace. He spins and leaves you, the door shutting with a click and releasing you to your self-reproach. You drop your head in your hands and huff. You are leaving the minute your sister wakes up. You never want to see that man again. You just pray he forgets you just as quickly as you want to forget this whole night. 

🃏

You hardly sleep. Your sister’s drunken snoring keeps you from relaxing for more than twenty minutes at a time, not to mention how unsettled you are. You hate sleeping in new places but moreso you hate that even on a night out, after all the assurance that you could just enjoy yourself, that you are once more a burden for someone else. 

You get up just after six. You rub your forehead as you go out into the front room and look over the amenities. There’s a fancy coffee maker with pods and a mini fridge with a glass door. You take out a bottle of water to leave by the bed for Roxie then return to figure out the coffee. You don’t often have any but your head is pounding. 

You sit down and sneer at the bitterness. Did you make it right? You never liked the taste so you can’t tell. You finish the cup if only for the soothing warmth. 

At seven, you get up to check on Roxie again. She’s still out like a light. Come on! You want to go. 

You rinse the mug in the sink as best you can and return it to the shelf. There’s a knock on the door. You flinch and reluctantly tread down to the hall. You peep through the hole as you fix your clothing. You push down the handle slowly to greet the woman with the cart. 

The golden embroidery on her white blouse marks her as an employee and she beams a smile in your direction. It’s too early for that amount of cheer. She has her hands on the cart, angling it towards the door. 

“Morning, miss, breakfast, complements of Mr. Barnes,” she declares, “where can I put it?” 

“Um,” you back up slowly, “inside... uh, by the table, I guess.” 

She rolls the cart in and asks if you need anything else before she leaves. You shake your head. There’s more than enough there for you and Roxie. If she can even stomach any of it. You’ve seen the way she is after her nights out. 

You sit and stare at the buffet of food before you. Fresh fruit, waffles, pancakes, french toast, bacon, eggs... everything and more. Just another favour to feel bad for. 

As you look over it all, you notice a note, nestled between the glasses beside the pitcher of orange juice. You take it. That must be the bill. You unfold it and read the slanted capitals hand-written across the casino-branded page. 

‘Good Morning, Doll,  

Enjoy breakfast on me. 

B. Barnes’ 

Under his name, is a sharp zigzag of the same black ink, a post script below. 

‘PS. If you’re still looking for a job, call me.’ 

You nearly drop the paper. What? You stare at the digits of his phone number and slowly lower your hand to your lap. This can’t be real. Could you really work at a casino? Would you be a dealer? Or maybe you’d be more suited to a cleaner, somewhere you can be out of the way. 

A long groan interrupts your inner turmoil. You fold the paper and tuck it away. It’s something. You’ll have to just figure out later what. 

“Coffee,” Roxie grumbles as she appears in the doorframe, gripping her skull. 

“Oh, uh, sure,” you get up and go to the machine. You grab a random pod and shove it into the top. 

“Where... how’d we get here?” She sits heavily and reaches for a piece of bacon. 

“Um, you... you were really drunk so...” 

“How the hell did you get us a room? Wait. Did we win? Blackjack?” She bites into the greasy strip and moans. “Or... I didn’t sleep with that guy, did I?” 

“Erm,” you frown, thinking for a moment before you realise she must mean that Sam guy. “No...” 

You don’t explain. You don’t know how. Oh yeah, you were such a disaster that the owner noticed and didn’t kick us out. Actually, he let us stay in an overpriced suite because... you don’t know. 

“He must be loaded if he’s handing out hotel rooms,” she scoffs as she continues on in her assumption. You don’t correct her. It doesn’t matter. “Coffee,” she snaps her fingers as the grind quiets. 

You bring her the mug and she adds too many packets of sugar before she tastes it. You hide the paper in your cardigan pocket and search for your purse. You fish your watch out of it and put it around your wrist checking the time. 

“We should head out before nine,” you say. 

“Why?” She scoffs. “Ugh, what’s the bath like in this place? I could use a soak.” 

“Mom’s going to be worried.” 

“Nah, she knows I’ll get you back,” she waves you off and stands.  

She walks slowly, rubbing her temples as she sips from the cup, and examines the hotel room. She dips into the bathroom and the light flicks on. You hear her turning the faucet and shifting things around.  

You play with the zipper of your purse. You reach inside and pull out your phone. You get up to grab the key folder and enter the wifi code into your outdated model. It takes far too long to connect. You type into the search of your browser, ‘Bucky Barnes’. 

Almost at once, an image of the very man who carried Roxie into this room appears. It’s familiar. You tap it and it opens up a local news story. That makes sense. He’s younger, his hair is shorter. You remember when the casino changed hands and was renovated all those years ago. It was big news. 

Hm. Not just rich, famous, at least to a degree. It means he has a lot more going on than two disorderly girls at his casino. He’ll forget. You just hope you can too. 

Roxie comes back in a robe and put her mug on the table, “make me another. I’m gonna try those jets.” 

She spins away and you stare at her empty cup. How can she not care about anything? Does she not realise that she ruined the night? That she made a fool of both of you? No, she just sees shiny things and forgets all about her own behaviour. 

Well, you’re not like her. You don’t like being a burden or asking for things or living on someone else’s affection. You look down and feel along your pocket, the slip of paper firm through the fabric. You could clean a few hotel toilets for a buck. It’s not like you have much else going on. 

[mousegirlheart]

peer reviewing this mousie to be:

A Funny Littol Creachur

im so very littol...

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC REVIEW: One Kiss to Desire by Grace Callaway

4.5/5. Releases 9/19/24.

The Vibes:

—true blue grumpy/sunshine

—dirty talk dirty talk dirty talk

—GHOOOOSTS

—messy sibling drama (complimentary)

Heat Index: 8/10

The Basics:

Xenia has made a reputation for herself as Sirena, telling dirty tales for patrons of a high-end brothel—while on the other side of a curtain. Temporarily out of a job and seeking shelter, she takes on the persona of your typical housekeeper, taking a post at a gloomy mansion with a gloomier boss. Ethan is hiding away from the world after a tragedy that changed his life; and he has no time for the perky, mousy girl who can't even seem to cook. But as danger lurks beyond the walls (and maybe within) they're forced to work together... among other things.

The Review:

If there's one thing Grace Callaway knows how to do, it's write a ROMP. This is her take on a Gothic historical romance a la Northanger Abbey (which is to say, kind of a loving spoof of Gothic romance with a real, warm love story at the center). Arguably, other Grace books have actually been a little heavier on the Gothic; I'd actually call this one of her lighter outings. But you get spooky stories, you get terrified servants, you get creepy things that go bump in the night and also non-creepy things that go bump in the night by which I mean OUR LEADS.

Speaking of, if you're a fun of grumpy/sunshine, this is about as Grumpy/Sunshine prime as I think you'll ever get. Ethan's not an asshole, exactly. I mean, he kind of is, but in a sympathetic way that really doesn't get that heavy. He's not mean, he's grumpy. And with good reason, even though he needs to straighten up (and does). Xenia is sunshine personified, sweet and perky and funny in a way that Callaway writes so well. It's no wonder he's charmed by her. You, the reader, are charmed by her from the jump.

Ethan and Xenia have both been through it. As someone who enjoyed The Lady Who Came in from The Cold, Ethan's parents' book (would recommend) I was a little worried about what would have him so torn up as this novel opens. Fortunately, it did nothing to ruin the general Blackwood HEA (and I should have figured as much). But it is a very valid issue, and I really liked both the classic Gothic drama of it all and Ethan's very real insecurities and loss of identity.

Xenia... has quite a backstory. I can't give any of it away, but BOY was the climax of this novel (besides the other climaxes) crazy. Which is what I want from a Grace Callaway book. I want sexy, I want funny, I want feelings-y, I want... yeah! A little zany! In part because of the removal from the hub of London (we're squarely in Chudleigh Bottoms, from whence one of Callaway's favorite historical romance families hails) and in part because of the madcap Gothic plot, this one reads a bit more "adventurous" to me, whereas Grace's previous series had more of a mystery/potboiler vibe.

You get some secret identity shenanigans, which I'm personally into—but if that isn't your thing, don't worry. It isn't dragged beyond its logical conclusion, and honestly? Once these two are really on the same page, they're rather adorable together. They have this fun, sexy relationship, and Ethan clearly cares about making sure Xenia feels respected. There's something kind of doting about the way he cares for her, and I'm personally about it.

In all, I'd say that though there is pain and a satisfying emotional arc, this is one of Grace's less angsty installments compared to a book like Pippa and the Prince of Secrets or Regarding the Duke. There's angst, but it's definitely more on the fun and sweet side.

The Sex:

OKAY.

Grace Callaway sex scenes always stand out, but this one really goes to a different place with it. Because yeah. Xenia is a virgin. But she certainly has a filthy mind, and she put its to good use weaving erotic stories for her clients. And yes. Ethan does get in on that action.

The way it's written, especially in the scene where they... do the full nine yards with it... is both hot and fun. It's over the top in the most self-aware, delightful way possible. I was kicking my feet all the way through it.

And the more "standard" sex scenes are of course, a lot of fun as well. Callaway simply writes sex scenes like she actually enjoys writing them, which I appreciate.

I noticed more attention paid to the safety aspects surrounding sex in this one, which I also appreciated. Definitely seems to be a trend I'm seeing more of in historicals recently, and it's done here in a way that fuels the tension rather than taking away from it.

It's adventurous, it's light, it's got a bit of an autumnal thing going with the Gothic of it all. And it's kicking off a new series, with fabulous teases for the next siblings. (One of those brothers is going to destroy someone's heart. I just know it.) I am MORE than game.

Thanks to Grace Callaway for providing me with a copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

[pluralitypoll]

Welcome to the PLURALITY POLL!!

Starting on 11/2/24, with each round lasting for a day, people are welcome to vote for which plural / system they like best!

All of the characters were chosen by the mod, and peer-reviewed by their partner!! And as a general note: some of these characters are simply coded to be plural, not necessarily canonically. However, there is evidence for a majority of these as to why they're here!!

Please do not start syscourse in the tags or in the comments. That is the one thing I ask.

*Arthur / John and Phosphophyllite / Lapis Lazuli do not have images. The former is on purpose due to lack of official art, but the latter is not. Just ignore it!!

And now, without further ado.... MAY THE BEST PLURAL WIN!!

Matchup list below the cut for easier access:

LEFT SIDE:

Yuji Itadori / Ryomen Sukuna (Jujutsu Kaisen) vs. Princess Luna / Nightmare Moon (My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic)

Yukito Tsukishiro / Yue (Cardcaptor Sakura) vs. Mafuyu Asahina (Project Sekai)

Oz / Jack Vessalius (Pandora Hearts) vs. Shinta Ruri (Ranger Reject)

Shinobu Sensui (YuYu Hakusho) vs. Amu Hinamori (Shugo Chara!)

Unknown Patient (Evillious Chronicles) vs. Near [Nate River] (Death Note)

Nicole / Jessica Sanders (NBC's Heroes) vs. Cloud Strife (Final Fantasy VII)

Arthur Lester / John Doe (Malevolent) vs. Josef / Cartaphilus (Mahoutsukai no Yome)

Nobara / Koyuki Ibaragi (Gakuen Alice) vs. Echo / Noise Baskerville (Pandora Hearts)

Uendo Toneido (Ace Attorney) vs. Yugi Mutou (Yu-Gi-Oh!)

Zetsu (Naruto) vs. Toko Fukawa / Genocider Syo (Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc)

Daisuke Niwa / Dark Mousy (D.N.Angel) vs. Mikoto / John Kayano (MILGRAM)

Alice Baskerville / Intention of the Abyss (Pandora Hearts) vs. Homura Akemi (Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magica)

Lucy / Nyu (Elfen Lied) vs. Klein Sieben (RWBY)

Junko Enoshima (Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc) vs. V / Johnny (Cyberpunk 2077)

Satoshi Hiwatari / Krad (D.N.Angel) vs. Phosphophyllite / Lapis Lazuli (Houseki no Kuni)

Letty / Rick (Alicemare) vs. Fraulein Bibliotheca / Chiquita (Irodoru Sekai no Namari Hime)

RIGHT SIDE:

Sora / Roxas / Ventus (Kingdom Hearts) vs. Alfendi Layton (Professor Layton)

Aquamarine Hoshino (Oshi no Ko) vs. Neopolitan / Trivia Vanille (RWBY)

Ayin (Lobotomy Corporation) vs. Momoka Nishizawa (Keroro Gunsou)

Greed / Ling Yao (Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood) vs. Aventurine (Honkai: Star Rail)

Owen / Kizu (Mahoutsukai no Yakusoku) vs. Hitsugi Kurone / NEGI (Ensemble Stars!!)

Charles / Scarlett Eyeler (Hello Charlotte) vs. Iruma Suzuki (Mairimashita! Iruma-kun)

Korekiyo Shinguuji (Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony) vs. Soul Eater Evans (Soul Eater)

Hatsuharu Sohma (Fruits Basket) vs. Alisa Ilinichina Amiella (God Eater)

Tomie Kawakami (Tomie) vs. Chise Hatori (Mahoutsukai no Yome)

Hantengu (Kimetsu no Yaiba) vs. Faust (Limbus Company)

Ken Kaneki / Sasaki Haise (Tokyo Ghoul) vs. Ghost Quartz / Cairngorm (Houseki no Kuni)

Harvey Dent / Two-Face (DC) vs. Furina de Fontaine (Genshin Impact)

Vinegar Doppio / Diavolo (Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Golden Wind) vs. Jin Bubaigawara [Twice] (My Hero Academia)

Yogi (Karneval) vs. Marc Spector / Steven Grant (Moon Knight)

Charlotte Wiltshire (Hello Charlotte) vs. Layla (Genshin Impact)

Shu Itsuki / Mademoiselle (Ensemble Stars!) vs. Seele Vollerei (Honkai: Impact 3rd)

[thetypedwriter]

Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Fairies

Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries Book Review by Heather Fawcett

This book was very, very cozy. 

Even though there were some objectively dark moments, like fairies getting skewered by tree branches like kabobs, most of the book was a feel-good easy read. 

The novel surrounds the life of the scholastic grump, one Emily Wilde. Instead of focusing on things not worth her time, like fashion, keeping her hair tidy, decorating, or even relationships—both platonic and romantic—Emily’s main obsession are fairies, so much so that she’s dedicated her life to researching them. 

If you think that Emily is sad and bereft with this kind of lifestyle, you are wrong. She is perfectly content, thank you very much, to be out doing field work, writing in her journal, or working on her encyclopaedia by her lonesome (which she prefers). 

She has one last kind of fae to research, the remote Fair Folk in Hrafnsvik, a tiny village in Norway where the landscape is icy and the people are even icier.

As Emily begins her investigations into the landscape around Hrafnsvik, she finds herself stymied by her lack of social skills and accidentally offending the rustic townspeople who don’t understand the mousy researcher that is hunkering down in their home.

Stubborn and deciding that she doesn’t need help, Emily perseveres until she is rudely interrupted by her academic rival from Cambrdige, the beautiful and insufferable Wendall Bambleby.

While scorning him left and right, Emily is secretly relieved to have her one and only friend join her in such an unwelcoming place, scholastic competitor or not. 

With Bambleby by her side, Emily starts to delve into the secrets of the Hidden Ones, finding along the way that opening up to people, making friendships, and relying on others is just as important and fulfilling as finishing her encyclopaedia, and is, in fact, necessary in order to achieve and succeed with reaching her dreams. 

While this book had plenty of action, humor, and heartwarming moments, I feel like I’ve summed it up quite well in just a few short paragraphs.

The relationship between Emily and Bambleby is endearing, one that leaves you either in laughter or with a smile every time they interact. 

All the characters in the novel were very charming. I found myself forgetting which townsperson was who, Thora versus Lilja versus Margaret, but I genuinely don’t think it made that much of a difference. 

One of the best parts about this book was how fun and easy it was to read while also having substance and moments of genuine intrigue and thoughtfulness.

Emily’s steadfastness when it comes to her research is a refreshing take on a female protagonist, especially when dealing with fairies. 

The scholastic lens in which you read through the novel offers good insight into folklore as a whole, but also lends a refreshing narrative of a female character that cares more about her academic pursuits than romance with a fairy prince. 

Speaking of, while the romance in this book is very light, that isn’t to say that it’s shallow. Instead the relationship between Bambleby and Emily is so light and fluffy that I couldn’t even tell if there was something stirring between them until the later half of the book, largely in part because Emily’s whole character doesn’t center around her feelings for Bambleby. 

Emily’s journey of learning to lean on and open up to people was also very enchanting. The progression aligned well with her character and also to the events around her.

This sounds simple in theory, but I feel like authors often struggle to give characters arcs and to have them also make sense in the context of the plot. 

While Heather Fawcett has already written the sequel, Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands, and while I greatly enjoyed this book, I strongly feel no need to read the sequel. 

Emily and her journey came to a satisfying end that doesn’t leave me itching for more. She completed her self-discovery, finished her encyclopaedia, realized her faults, and became better as a person. 

The only cliffhanger that remained is the status of her relationship with Bambleby, but oddly I find myself okay with that because in my heart’s canon, I know they would end up together, squabbling over Emily’s choice of fashion (or lack thereof). 

Normally when I find a book I enjoy, I desire to devour everything and anything the world has to offer to me. In this strange case, I am content to close the book on Emily Wilde and her love of fairies forever, encasing it amber without adding in a potentially not-as-good sequel. 

Recommendation: A great summer read to bask in while suntanning by the pool. You will languish in the heat as you read about the frigid temperatures Emily has to go through while conducting research.

It's a light and easy read that will fill you up with contentment and satisfaction (while teaching you more about fairies than you even deigned to know). 

Score: 7/10

[bwoahtastic]

ohmigod, so i saw a video today of nico r trying to do a race review thing while his daughter keeps interrupting him and in it he calls her mausi! all i could think of was nico and nicky. even in real life nico has a little mouse 😭

OSJSJSJS OMGGGG 😭😭😭😭

Okay but Nico doing this TV interview to explain about a case or for a charity protecting pups like seb and nicky and ofc during the call, mousy decides he wants momma snuggies!

Toto tried to distract the pups but mousy sneaked off and slips into the little office, questioningly making grabby hands at momma, who softly asks mousy to wait just a second!

Mousy just sitting on the floor in front of the desk wiggling his lil feet a tiny bit impatient until momma is done! He is a good pinky, he will wait, he doesn't judt pounce like Sebby would!

[tumblydove]

Donkey Hodie Season 2 Mid-Season Review + Episode Predictions

With new episodes coming in a little over three weeks, I wanted to go over my overall thoughts on Season 2 so far while we're in the middle of a hiatus. I also wanted to discuss the episode titles for the rest of the season, revealed on the WGAE website, and my predictions for what the episodes may be about.

Overall, I think that Season 2 of Donkey Hodie has been an improvement over the first one. This season took what Season 1 established and ran.

One of my biggest complaints for Season 1 was that there were a lot of characters and pairings that we didn't get to see enough of, such as Duck Duck, Grampy, and Stanley. I don't put this too much on the creators, since the pandemic did limit the stories they could do, but seeing Donkey and Panda every episode gets tiring. Luckily, this season fixes this issue. We get a much more diverse cast in each episode, and we even get to see all four pals together much more often!

Speaking of characters, we got one major new one so far: Cousin Hodie! Cousin is a perfect addition to the show- he fills the gap as the little brother character, but not too little that he can't have specific traits or join in on Donkey's fun himself.

The puppetry also took a big step up this season. Woth no restrictions, the creators had the option to go full-out, and they certainly did. We have probably had more green screen and crowd shots in this half that we did in the entirely of Season 1.

I've been taking so positively about this season- what is it in this season I don't like? Well, the character designs and their updates were a bit jarring at first, but I've since gotten used to them. Some morals have been reused from the first season, which comes off as repetitive.

Favorite Episode: This was a hard one. Ultimately, though, I think that Cousin Hodie's Rainy Day and its pair episode, Grampy's Guppies are the encapsulations of all of the good merit Season 2 has going for it. We get all four of the pals, Cousin Hodie, the Rainbow Tree, great songs, and even better puppetry from the latter episode's fishing.

Honorable Mentions: Ruff Night, How Does it Feel, Best Ball Fest, and Bob Dog's Balloon Bother, purely out of the fact that they are Bob Dog episodes and he is my favorite of the pals. Any episode with all four of the pals in it also counts, since I love seeing all of them together!

Least Favorite Episode: While I didn't outright dislike these two episodes, The Goalies/Mousy Hodie were the least memorable to me, which is a shame since Alice Dinnean returned for them. Avid DH fand know that she was the original choice to play Donkey, but dropped the gig because of time constraints. As for which one was worse, I'd say Mousy Hodie. Mousy's selfish behavior was never really addressed, even after Donkey took her break. Yeah, they took a break from each other but Mousy never apologized for hogging all the turns. The episode just felt incomplete and, dare I say, "torture-esque" for Donkey.

Dis-Honorable Mentions: Purple Polka Dot Party. This episode suffers the same problem as cheesy Con by overindulging in a problem that could have been solved extremely easily with some critical thinking. Panda could have flown some of his pals to the party, than come back and get the others. Or, he could have simply refused to let Penley come since there was no room. Rather than have that be the problem, add a problem that could have no clear solution, like having Panda's spaceship break down.

I'll also mention that episode's pairing, Someplace Cold. The Puzzling Penguin is unlikeable asf and would have been more if not for her catchphrase. This episode just felt repetitive.

And, finally, I'll add in Speedy Delivery and Donkey Wonky Tea Party. I didn't dislike these ones, but the morals felt too repetitive too soon. Why doesn't Donkey just use the moral she taught Turtle-Lou to remember her pals' stuff too? Just comes off as confusing.

So, yeah! Season 2 > Season 1. If Season 1 is a 7/10, then season 2 is an 8/10. Hopefully Season 3 breaks that and gets a 9/10. Of course, this could change since we still have many Season 2 episodes that haven't premiered, but this season has been going well so far, so I'm not expecting those episodes to be awful.

Speaking of episodes, let's talk about the new ones that WGAE revealed!

Meemaw Heehaw's Recipe Mystery: Grammy Hodie??? It can't be! I wonder what the recipe is- maybe Flying Flapjacks lore? anyways, I'm thinking this might be a nice wholesome Donkey family episode. Maybe Cousin (or even more shockingly, Dodie) will be in it.

Extra-Large Crunchdoodle: Another Crunchdoodles episode! Looking forward to the lucid sequence with the characters dancing that we've gotten in every Crunchdoodles episode so far!

The Great Wait: Oh, look, another waiting episode. These episodes are notorious for being either fairly entertaining or extremely boring. I have a theory that we may be seeing Mike in this episode (as you may recall, he is a mouse with muscular dystrophy that was revealed in a casting call last year.) My initial thought was that we'd be seeing him in Gameshow Gaffe. September is Muscular Dystrophy Awareness Month, the episode's plot talks about fairness and fun, and the episode is written by Jill Cozza-Turner according to the WGAE, who wrote Hee-Hee Hide and Seekers. This may still happen (and I would be a bit disappointed if it didn’t), but if now my second thought is him appearing in this one. The casting call also mentioned he likes looking for new creatures with his binoculars, so maybe he and Donkey are waiting to find a new creature? Excited for this one! (Please don't bore me out as much as Acornball did.)

Hee-Hee Hide and Seekers: I don't have many predictions for this one since we kind of already know what it's about. The Everything Explorers are back, and Mike is here guaranteed! I wasn't a big fan of Everything Explorers in Season 1, so maybe this and a new character will change my mind. I'm looking forward to seeing how the show tackles the topic of disability.

A Donkey Hodie New Year: New Years' Special! Maybe the pals are trying to stay up long enough or coming up with resolutions? I can't help but feel disappointed this isn't a Christmas episode, but I can't say I'm not excited for this one regardless. The last half-hour special, A Donkey Hodie Halloween, was great, so my expectations are high for both of the specials we'll get in this season.

A Donkey Hodie Road Trip: My original prediction for this episode was that this would be the one where we'd get the Daniel/Donkey crossover. Maybe the pals go on Trolley to The Neighborhood of Make-Believe? Obviously, that won't be the case, but I still think Trolley will be in this one. We know he'll appear in three Season 2 episodes, and we only have two with him in them so far. The question becomes, where are the pals going? Maybe to Another Place, where Dodie lives, or to wherever Cousin lives.

Quick-Quack Pack: I am reminded of Quack Pack anything I look at this episode title. Outside if this obviously being a Duck Duck episode, I really don't know what to expect from this one. My expectations are high though, since this would be the last Season 2 episode produced, and the Season 1 finale, Return of the Golden Crunchdoodles, was fairly great.

Find A Way to Fix It: This episode could really be about anyone or anything. The ambiguity makes me look forward to it, but I really don't have any thoughts on what it may be about.

That's it for my thoughts on Season 2 and the upcoming new episodes so far. Thanks for reading my long tanged about an anthropomorphic donkey and her friends!

[i-fondued]

Ghost | Sinners in Secret | Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen - The Confessional Ritual Incident Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader/Sister of Sin x Papa “Terzo” Emeritus III Rating: Explicit Warnings: Plot, smut, etc. See AO3 for full list of tags! A/N: I'm just gonna hide from y'all when you get to the end ehehe >D

As always, this chapter is has been reviewed by my beta, @lurancyvenom whom I love!

Full Chapter List - HERE AO3 Link - HERE

“Amore, you must eat something.”

“I’m fine, Copia.”

“Il Cardinale is right, Tesoro,” Terzo signed, sitting down next to me and leaning back in his chair to try and crack his back. “You have not eaten anything yet tonight, and you have a long night ahead of you, si?”

“I know, I know. I will, I swear.” I yawned before blushing at the soft look on both men’s faces. “Sorry…I’m just tired. It's been a long few days.”

Copia knelt down next to me again, putting his hand on my thigh on top of my skirts with a gentle smile. I placed mine on top of his while Terzo placed his on top of both of ours. 

“Not long now, Amore,” Copia teased. 

Sister Imperator came to our table, clearing her through with a tense smile.

“Ah, Sister. I was just looking for you,” she said cheerily, the look on her face instantly setting me on edge. “You’ve forgotten a member of the clergy to dance with…”

“I don’t think I did…” I paused, thinking back over the last several hours. 

After my dance with Primo, I danced with Papa Nihil which was more like me supporting him, as good natured as he was. Then I danced with Saltarian, a few other Cardinals, and finally I’d been able to sit down now.

“You missed me, Sorella.” 

I looked to the source of the voice and my eyes narrowed. Cardinal Veritas was dressed in the same red formal suit that he had worn the last formal event, form fitting and well tailored to his narrow but long frame. His hair was pulled back and away from his face into a black ribbon, the long silvery blond locks curling around and over his shoulder. 

“I don’t believe I owe you a dance, Cardinal.” I couldn’t help but sneer at him, Imperator looking slightly taken aback by my change in attitude suddenly. 

“Sister!” Imperator hissed at me, her eyes hard. “You will do as is your duty, and dance with Cardinal Veritas.”

“But Sister…” I started to come up with any and all excuses, but her hand held up and I knew better than to argue with her. 

I glared daggers at the smug look on his face as he took my begrudgingly outstretched arm to escort me to the dance floor. My skirts swished against my legs as we walked, a slow but slightly sultry song striking up as he twirled me away from him before pulling me back in. 

“How have you been, Sister?” Veritas’ voice was clipped but there was a look behind his eyes that made my heart pound and my spine tingle. “Enjoying your last few days before you ascend?”

“What are you playing at Veritas?” I hissed, glaring at him as he stepped closer in our embrace. I could see Copia and Terzo to the side of us, both staring so sharply at Veritas I was surprised he didn’t catch fire. “You haven’t said a thing to me in weeks, suddenly we are buddy buddy and you want to dance?”

“Can a man not pay his respects to the woman who will be at the highest level of our organization without motive?”

“Not considering you tried to kiss said woman the last time we were this close.”

“Ah, for that I apologize. Too much wine that night.” He smiled, a slithering and predatory kind, and I fought to keep my face neutral. “Though can you blame a man for trying?”

“Yes. Yes I can; I’m not interested Veritas, I think I’ve made myself clear enough.”

“Someone as enchanting as yourself should not have to stoop so low to end up with a mousy Cardinal and a Papa who sees himself above the Dark One himself,” Veritas chided, his eyes slightly hooded as he looked down at me. I shuddered, rage blossoming in my chest as he spoke.

I couldn’t help myself as I stepped closer to him, even he looked slightly taken aback at our bodies almost pressed against each other. Each breath caused my breasts to ghost against his chest and he looked smug before I spoke. 

“Those two men over there are some of the kindest, most genuine, earnest souls I’ve ever met. If there is anything I’ve learned about you, Veritas; it is that you are neither kind, genuine, or earnest,” I purred, my voice ghosting over his ear causing the man to shiver. “I would rather throw myself from the highest tower than forsake my vows and leave either of them for anyone even remotely like you.”

“That could be arranged, Sister,” he chuckled after taking a moment to recover. “I’m sure my sister, Caterina, would appreciate the chance to rekindle her romance with Terzo after all these years…”

“How dare you…” I hissed, rage filling my chest again as I fought the urge to slap him.

“Ah, how does the saying go? All is fair in love and war?” he purred, dipping me into a low bow as the song started to come to a close. “Well, Sister. I’d say this counts as love and war, no?”

Before I could even formulate a response, the song came to a close. He bowed to me and kissed my knuckles before winking at me and sauntering away, leaving me gaping like a fish out of water on the dance floor. 

…

“Incredible isn’t it?” 

I turned to look to my left and saw Saltarian had come to stand next to me as I took in the massive tapestry on the back wall, the party behind me in full swing. I’d come over to the tapestry to see my own name embroidered in, my fingers brushing against the gold thread. 

“It is very impressive,” I said softly, somewhat emotional thinking about the generations of women before me going through exactly what I was. “I can’t believe that it’s been kept up to date…”

“Painstakingly, and repaired over the years too, when we needed to make way for new bloodlines and off-shoots,” Saltarian chuckled, pointing to where my name had been added next to Terzo’s and another little line had been added for Copia to join us as well. They’d already added a little path for any children we had, and I blushed knowing they had prepared that ahead of my Prime Mover ceremony. “Several centuries of families are on here.”

My fingertips skimmed the line backwards, following from where my name was, passing over where Secondo and his empty slot for his Prime Mover sat, and stopped momentarily on the spot where Primo and his Prime Mover’s name had been stitched in years before me:

Prime Mover Francesca Emeritus Born 1945 - Died 1973

Beside her name was another small line, and stitched in a thin gold thread was another heartbreaking image:

Heir Emeritus {Baby Girl} Born 1973 - Died 1973

A single branch of a family was cut out too soon, my heart clenched even reading it. Their baby had passed before they had even gotten to name her. I had to move on before the tears that welled in my eyes for Primo’s lost love and child fell; my fingers passed over Papa Nihil who, despite having three sons, did not have a Prime Mover. Further and further back I went, until I found the last Prime Mover to take two lovers, the one responsible for the birth of the Emeritus line. I smiled faintly, feeling a kinship with a woman who lived and died centuries before I was even born. 

I followed the clergy line, like I had all those weeks ago at my council meeting, watching the family grow and grow. Last names changed as I went on and I closed in on the more recent names. That was when I saw two names and my gasp caught the attention of Saltarian. 

Cardinal Maximilliano Veritas Born 1972 -  ~*~ Sister Caterina Veritas Born 1973 - 

“Is something wrong, Sister?” Saltarian asked, and I shook my head, fearful my voice wouldn’t come out. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Y-Yes Sir,” I stammered, thinking back to the last conversation I’d had with Veritas prior to the one tonight. “If you don’t mind me asking, Sir. What is the rite of inheritance?”

“Where did you ever learn about that, Sister?” he laughed, but apparently something in my face made it clear I wasn’t joking. “Well it's a very, very old tradition. It involves calling into question the line of succession, or in some cases the line of inheritance when there is a place, thing, or even sometimes a bride. Calling for a rite of inheritance was all the rage after the middle ages since so many had died in the various church familial lines, nobody could make heads or tales of what belonged to whom after whole branches of families were wiped out.”

I’d stopped listening to him as he chatted about Medieval history, mentally wrapped up in the last few weeks and what Vertas had said. My heart was pounding in my chest as panic bloomed. 

“P-Please excuse me, Saltarian. I need to speak with Papa,” I blurted, bowing my head in apology before starting back to my own table. 

Swiss caught my arm before I could get more than a foot closer, tugging me to the side and stepped close to speak with me, his eyes filled with concern behind the silver of his mask.

“Hey Sunshine, what's going on? I felt you panic from the other side of the room.” Swiss kept his voice low as he looked around, as if someone was going to pop out and steal me away. 

“It’s Veritas,” I blurted, my eyes darting around to see if I could see him in the room still. I couldn’t find him, and if anything it heightened my anxiety. “I…I don’t know how to explain it but I know that he’s up to something Swiss.”

The clock in the room chimed several times, it was 3 in the morning. Sister Imperator came over with a soft but sleepy smile, hand resting on my shoulder before she spoke. 

“Come, Sister. We need to get you ready for your ritual, Secondo already left and you were supposed to be there for 3am.” Imperator turned to Swiss with a cocked eyebrow. “Will you please escort Sister to the chapel, Swiss ghoul?”

“Yes, Imperator Ma’am.” He bowed before taking my arm gently and leading us away. “You should have told her you know.”

“I know, I know. You know it's not exactly like she gave me much of a chance to speak,” I sighed as we walked down the long halls and headed in the direction of the chapel. “Let’s just get this over with....”

When we got to the chapel I smiled when I noticed the ghouls had already started setting up decorations and ceremony elements. There was a slight haze in the air of the room from the heavily fragrant incense they were burning, smoke swirling around in the super low light of the few candles that had been left lit.

I went off into a side suite where there was a simple set of junior sibling robes waiting for me. I wore a white linen dress that had a stiff high collar with long form fitting sleeves; over that I wore a black pinafore dress made in a heavy muslin. I exchanged my formal heels for black leather flats and black thigh high knit stockings, and quickly worked to pull my hair back into a braid before coming out of the suite. Swiss was still waiting for me, and he shook his head wryly and pointed at the ornately carved confessional booth behind him. 

“Secondo is already in there, I heard him murmuring a little when you were getting dressed. You go, I’ll stand guard.”

“Thank you, Swiss. You’ve been my rock this whole week,” I smiled, reaching to squeeze his shoulder gently. He looked sheepish as he took my hand and gave it a gentle press of his lips to my knuckle. 

“Anything for you, Master,” he teased before scampering away from me, I scoffed, but smiled as I slipped into the empty side of the booth. 

“Good Evening, Papa,” I started as I knelt on the floor of the confessional. “It has been…well it's been several weeks since my last confession.”

I hear him make some sort of snort, my cheeks flushing as I remembered who my last confession was with and the conversation with Primo earlier that night.

“I have come before you to share my sins, to feel the sweet release of absolving myself of the contradictory notion of sin. As everything we do is because of the gift of free will from the ancient one.” I spoke clearly, trying to follow exactly what Secondo and I had gone over the last few weeks. “T-There is something weighing on me very heavily that I would like to discuss first.”

“Oh?” His voice was thick and pitched low, but I remembered how much wine he’d drunk earlier tonight, and I had a feeling he’d drank too much.

“I…I am concerned about Cardinal Veritas, Papa,” I blurted, feeling my heart racing as I settled back on my calves. The hazy smoke from the chapel swirling around in the booth, the thick cloying scent making me almost want to gag. I felt it settle deep in my lungs and it made me light headed, swaying slightly on my knees. “H-H-He mentioned the rite of inheritance in passing before. I’m worried he's going to try and hurt Terzo or Copia…or even me.”

I felt like I’d been slurring my words a little, taking a minute to mentally tally the drinks I’d had at dinner. My vision was going a little spotty as I tried to focus and look through the partition between Papa and I; eyes not quite strong enough to zero in on the vague shape of a man on the other side. 

“Se-Secondo?” I stuttered as he stood on the other side coming closer to the grate, a sickening feeling deep in my gut as the shape on the other side became more defined and the colors they were wearing even more obvious.

“Unfortunately for you, Little Bird, I am not the Emeritus brother,” the man teased, coming to step out of his side and snatching my wrist to drag me to my feet. 

“Le-let me go, Veritas!” I slurred, stumbling on my feet as I tried to get away. My panic thrummed through my veins as I gripped the edge of the wood to try and prevent him from pulling me anywhere. “P-Please let me go!”

“Ah, Sister. It’s too late to beg unfortunately. Things are in motion, you see,” he chuckled darkly, his light eyes flashing dangerously. 

He pulled me up roughly, my arm socket aching sharply, and I cried out. Veritas’ grip loosened as I wobbled again, vision swirling as I looked around for someone, anyone, to come help. I managed to get my wrist out of his hands and yanked away from him, but I felt like I was moving through mud, legs growing weaker as I stumbled away. I tripped over my own feet and fell hard to my hands and knees, gasping for clean air but finding more of the cloying scent of the incense. 

“S-Sunshine?” Swiss called out as I finally locked eyes with him. I reached out towards him, our fingertips brushing as he rushed forward to me but as quickly as he came to me he begun to fall down to the floor with me. 

“Swiss..?” I mumbled, my vision fading fast. I looked behind him and watched Caterina as she walked towards us, a syringe in her hands and a vicious look on her face. 

It was the last thing I saw before I too slipped under the effects of the sickly scent of the incense. 

…

Tucked deep in the sleepy New England forest, hours away from any real city, was the massive and sprawling grounds of the home of the Satanic Church known as The Clergy. I’d been taken aback at the structure, a massive gothic church down a long sprawling road. I couldn’t see over the fairly high, slightly crumbling stone walls, but I could see there were several roofs of other buildings including a large Victorian style glass greenhouse. When I pulled up in my car, the gates had been left open and I felt the caress of something deep inside me. Calling me, coaxing me from my car to the front steps and I couldn’t stop myself from hesitantly tugging on the doorbell. 

I heard the gong of the bells going off on the other side of the door and my heart had felt like it was going to explode as I waited for someone to answer. The door opened, and an older woman stepped out slightly, a closed look on her face. 

“Yes? How can we help you?” Her voice was clipped, face leaving no room for any curiosity as I tried and failed to peek around her to see inside to see what had been calling out for me. 

“I-I’m sorry to bother you, I…I just was passing by,” I stuttered, cheeks flushing as I spoke. “I was so impressed with the building all the way out here, I just…well I was curious to know what it was.”

That was probably the lamest excuse I could have come up with, and if the woman’s face was anything to go off of, she didn’t believe a word of it. She and I both knew there was no passing by, considering the Abbey was twenty minutes off the main road and down a long and winding unmarked road.

“We are a…religious organization,” she said stiffly. My eyes drifted to her collar where a rosary was draped around her neck. However instead of a crucifix, it was an upside down cross with a G in the middle, at least that's what I thought it looked like. 

“Oh, is it…Catholic?” I asked, slightly confused at her hesitancy.

“We are assuredly not Catholic,” she chuckled, stepping back slightly and gesturing for me to come inside. “Would you like a tour?” 

“Y-Yes! I’d love that, thank you so much!” I smiled brightly, stepping into the entryway and following her into the hall.

The foyer of the Abbey was made entirely of a light cream colored stone with a massive fireplace to the side; above which was an enormous painting of a strange looking man and I paused, eyes locked on the painting. 

The man was dressed in robes similar to the priest I would see at the church I grew up attending, but they were all black, with green accents. Down the center, on top of a strip of what looked like lace, was a row of the upside down crosses from the woman’s rosary embroidered. He wore a miter on his head, again adorned with the upside down crosses, but his face perplexed me the most. It was painted to look like a skull, complete with what looked like teeth over his lips. What caught my eye was his mismatched gaze that seemed to be able to pierce right through me, a small shiver running down my spine.

Under this enormous painting was a plaque, I leaned closer to read what it said. 

Papa Emeritus the Second Long May he Shepherd the Flock

“Miss, are you coming?” 

The woman’s voice made me jump and I turned to her with a small guilty smile. “Ah, the painting caught your eye?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’ve never seen anything quite like this…well at least not for a religion.” I took a few steps towards her before she gestured up at the painting. 

“That is Papa Emeritus the Second, though most of us here call him Secondo.” She laughed before continuing. “He’s the leader of the Church, somewhat like the Pope is for Catholics if you will. I'd like to introduce you, but unfortunately he’s not here right now, he's touring with the Ghost Project.”

“Ghost Project?” I paused, eyebrow knitting together. I’d heard that before, where had I heard that before? “Isn’t that a band?”

“Yes, it is. Have you heard of them before?”

“Ah, no not really. I’d just seen something in the news, I think?” I couldn’t place where I’d heard about them before but I didn’t let myself get caught up in it and neither did the woman, who nodded sagely as she started to give me a real tour. 

Sister Imperator, as she had introduced herself, was nothing but a wonderful tour guide as we wandered the halls of the Abbey. It was quiet today as the night before had been a Black Mass night, and many were still sleeping in since there was no class today. We passed many works of art and tapestries on the wall, all having a similar motif of the fall of Lucifer and the serpent tempting Eve with the apple. It didn’t dawn on me to ask a question about what exact religion they were until we entered the chapel and I saw the statue of Baphomet in the rectory. 

“Uh…Sister?” I started awkwardly, a blush on my cheeks before she turned to see what I was looking at. “W-What religion did you say you were again...?”

“Ah, I think I may have glossed over that part, Dear,” she chuckled before her fingers curled around her rosary. “We're part of the Satanic Church.”

“Oh.”

“I hope you aren’t worried we are going to sacrifice you or kill a baby to steal your soul.” She crossed her arms and seemed to be evaluating me as I squirmed. 

“N-No! I wouldn’t think that at all,” I blurted, turning back to the statue and looking at it again. “You’ve been nothing but lovely.”

Suddenly that pull, the insistent tugging behind my sternum was back and I felt my fingertips twitch. I gasped under my breath, eyes defocusing for a second as I let my vision drift slightly. 

“Ah, Archbishop, what a nice surprise! I thought you’d be locked away in your rooms today.” Imperator seemed cheery to see the Archbishop. I turned to look at the newcomer, trying to not look like I was currently having heart palpitations. “This lovely lady here was just passing by, I thought I’d offer her a tour.”

The man was standing behind us looking just as shocked at seeing me as I was seeing him. He wore a black cassock with purplish pink buttons and matching piping around the edge of the cape, button placard, and cuffs. He also wore a matching colored skull cap on his head and a belt with tassels. On his hands he had leather gloves with rings, a metal cross on the backs of his hands. The Archbishop wore face paint, his top lip painted black and racoon-like black around his eyes. His hair was dark and pushed back from his face with matching sideburns. He also had a pencil mustache, making him look distinguished. His posture however made me think more of a rat than a man, slightly shy and hunched over. His eyes, like mine, seemed wild and didn’t quite want to focus on me. The Archbishop in fact seemed to refuse to look at my face, a small barely visible blush on his cheeks. 

“Welcome, cara mia, to the Abbey.” He bowed his head in my direction and fidgeted with his hands. “I am Archbishop Copia.”

My heart felt like it was attempting to rip its way out of my chest as I introduced myself to him. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Archbishop,” I said with a small, shy smile. 

“If you will excuse me ladies, I am needed to help Cardinal Emeritus with his sermons.” He gestured to the doors behind us that must lead to the chapel.

“Actually, I was just looking for him as well. I wanted to introduce him to our visitor as well.” Imperator smiled like a cat who’d just caught a mouse, and I watched the Archbishop swallow deeply. 

He nodded and gestured for us to lead the way, and I couldn’t help the shiver that ran down my spine as I passed him. My eyes lingered on him and I managed to catch his eye, his mismatched gaze filled with swirling emotion that took my breath away. Our eyes locked and I felt the whole room evaporate for a moment. I went to speak to him, to break the tension between us, and instead nothing came out. A voice floated around my skull as I tried to speak.

Wake Up, Little Lamb…

…

I jumped slightly, eyes flying open and gasping for breath, and struggled against something holding my hands above my head. While I tried to shake off the fog, focusing on my surroundings I noticed the ropes binding my wrists above my head and my feet down on the stone altar under my body. I felt the panic bubbling up in my chest, a fluttering through my veins, as I looked around with wild, bleary eyes trying to focus. The room was too dark to see much of anything beyond where I was, however I gasped when I noticed a prone form strapped to a wooden X to my left. 

“S-Swiss?!” I croaked, voice crackling as my throat was painfully dry. He didn’t move and my heart was thrumming wildly in my chest. “Swiss? Ca-Can you hear me?”

As my eyes got more used to the lack of light, I saw he was cuffed to the wood with metal cuffs around his wrists and one around his neck. I struggled against the rope around my wrists, the fibers cutting into my sink and leaving marks. 

“I wouldn’t struggle too much, Sorella. I prefer my property to be unmarked.”

My head whipped to look down at my feet, eyes locking with Cardinal Veritas as he stepped from the shadows. My heartbeat was pounding in my temples as I fruitlessly struggled against my binds again, the blond man rolling his eyes with a dark chuckle. Twirling between his gloved fingertips was a knife, I let out a little gasp of fear and his face twinkled with a foreboding look. He came up to me, one hand letting go of the knife and dragging a fingertip against my side as he tsked under his breath. 

“Such a shame,” He sighed, face full of mock regret. “I’m sure you would have looked radiant in your ritual. Alas I have bigger plans for you, Sister.” 

“You don’t think they’ll notice I’m gone, Veritas?” I snapped, flinching away from his touch. “You don’t think everyone in the Monastery will be looking for me, hell for Swiss and I, when they realize we aren’t in the confessional or even in our room?”

“By the time they even put together you two are missing, I’ll be long gone from here.” 

“And what? You think that Terzo and Copia will just let you leave after you do whatever it is you plan to do to me?” I laughed, a crazed sort of chuckle. “Whatever they would do to you would be a vacation in comparison to what Swiss will do when he wakes up.”

“What gave you the impression you’d still be around to see it my dear?” He purred, the tip of his knife grazing against my collarbones. “I’d rather not have to waste such a supple form but alas… if you won’t cooperate.”

“What do you want with me, Veritas?” My voice was strong even with the panic bubbling up in my throat. “What is all this about?”

“Come, Sister, you cannot be so naive surely?” He laughed, a pitying look on his face. “This is about revenge, this is about taking what is supposed to be mine by birth. This is about taking the one thing that they care about away from them.”

“But why? Why does it matter to you even now?”

“BECAUSE YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN MINE.” Veritas roared, fist slamming on the altar below me and making me jump. “The visions I had as an archbishop, I was to wed the prime mover. I was the one to ascend, I was to be Papa.”

“B-but you aren’t an Emerit-” I started before he cut me off, eyes blazing in fury as he came close to my face. 

“You go far enough back in any of the clerical families and we all can trace back to the Emeritus family.” Veritas sneered, catching my jaws and forcing me to look in his eyes. “Some of us more directly than others.”

“What the hell does that have to do with me?” 

“Because, dear Sister, you’re the first woman that has been able to enchant dear Alessandro for more than a month. He’s been a skirt chaser since I’ve met him and even my own sister couldn’t bring him to heel. I’d had hoped they would have been bound and she could have brought his downfall. Instead it was an upstart outsider who managed to cuff him.”

He sighed, straightening his cassock and walking towards Swiss. I struggled against the ropes again as he used the knife to slice at Swiss’ shirt buttons and opened the fabric to expose his smooth skin. 

“You ask what this has to do with you, I fear you haven’t been paying enough attention my dear. This is entirely about you.” He chuckled as Swiss began to stir slightly. “You were meant to be mine, you were meant to rebind the houses of Veritas and Emeritus together again. All they talk about is how you were sent by Lucifer himself, to bring a new age of the Satanic Church, to bring together the Papal and Clergy seats and make them stronger. What they all seem to forget is dear Papa played favorites, he promoted that fucking rat bastard. He is the usurper, not I. No it should have been me, little bird, that you’d be bound too. Not Copia.” 

My eyes were wide with fear as he ranted, waving the knife around before he turned back to Swiss. 

“Veritas p-please! Leave him alone.” I begged, tears welling in my eyes as I panicked. 

“Oh how lovely Sister, unfortunately for him I’m not willing to mar that beautiful skin of yours…” He cooed, eyes flashing dangerously as he adjusted his grip on the knife. “However after a little research on the bindings between ghouls and their masters I found a very interesting piece of knowledge. Not only are good feelings like pleasure and joy shared, but also anguish and pain…”

His smile took on a wild, feral sort of quality as he slowly dragged the knife from Swiss’ chest outwards towards his ribs. Swiss growling and groaning as he began to wake as the pain seeped into his subconscious. 

“What are you ta-?” I started before crying out and arching off the altar. 

I could feel every inch of the blade as he sliced a small cut into my ghoul’s flesh. I gasped, tears flowing freely now, and dug my nails into the palms of my hands to distract myself. 

“Remarkable…” he muttered, coming over and cutting away at my habit dress as I tried to squirm away from him. He only stopped when he was able to see I was unmarked. “Your punishment, Little Bird, is your penance for all the trouble you have caused me since arriving.”

“Pl-please Veritas, just let me go.” I begged, wet eyes locking with his unfeeling ones. 

“It's too late to beg your way out of this one, darling.” He laughed darkly, walking back over to Swiss who was actively trying to lash out at Veritas. 

“I’m going to fucking rip you to shreds you bastard, absolutely fucking eviscerate you.” Swiss roared, hissing and flinching against the cuffs around his limbs and neck. 

“Unfortunately for you, mongrel, those are made of iron and I doubt a ghoul as young as you has the strength to shatter them.” Veritas waved him off, looking back at me again with a wild look in his eye. “Come, Sister, show me how you’d scream for me, hm?”

Before I could even formulate a retort, a scream ripped past my lips as I felt like my ribs were on fire. I watched as he dipped the tip of the knife slightly deeper between each of Swiss’ ribs. I thrashed against the ropes, pleading with him to stop and let us go; but all my begging and pleading fell on deaf ears. 

[kryativelogos]

Cinder's Racial Ambiguity Frustrates Me (Spoilers for The Lunar Chronicles)

Hi hello long time no post! I haven't had a chance to really consumed any media until just recently so I'm finally back with another review!

Today we're gonna talk about The Lunar Chronicles, written by Marissa Meyer, and published in 2012. I had read this novel back in 2015/2016 when Fairest and Winter were newly released and had the opportunity to reread it (albeit in audiobook form) these past few months. Buckle up babes, I have a lot to say.

I wanna just say right off the bat that in terms of world-building, plot, and even character design, this story still holds up quite well from when I read it the first time. From how each character gets their own time to shine and development, to how they all connect with one another, I loved seeing the major plot unfold and how it concluded so nicely.

But I do want to discuss something that has bothered me from the first time that I read this series and still does after reading it a second time: Cinder's race.

Now you may be wondering, why do we care what Cinder's race is? Well, I'm Asian, Singaporean to be specific. And it would be great if Cinder's race was Asian/Chinese as the website, as the author, and as most people in the fandom believe to be. However, I am skeptical for this to be the case at all.

We don't know what race(s) the Lunars are.

They're an "evolved" race of humans that have magical abilities. Even Meyer herself states that the ethnicities start to blend because it's so far in the future. It's already quite difficult to pinpoint specific ethnic groups just in the royal family.

Queen Channary had olive skin and dark brown hair which could be a myriad of ethnicities and races although I'm heavily inclined to believe that she is/was South/Southeast Asian due to her name being taken from the Khmer dialect found in Cambodia [evidently in the wiki]. Even Queen Jannali was described to have had tan skin and chestnut colored hair, which again, says nothing about her race, but her name was taken from the Aboriginal language [also found on the wiki] so that may count for,,, something. Essentially, following Cinder's lineage, we already have little evidence to support the idea that Cinder is Asian, let alone Chinese.

Cinder's description in the book did not help her case (and I believe Meyer attempted to retcon this later on, like, look at the new covers - she looks so [East] Asian, but then you read the description in the actual book??).

Her first description in Cinder was tan skin, angular body, and mousy brown hair. Mousy implies, light brown. Literally look up "mousy brown hair" online, you'll see a bunch of eurocentric, white women. No Asian that I know, naturally, has "mousy" brown hair unless you dye it or it is heavily sun-bleached (which has happened to me but still not light enough to be considered "mousy", I could have safely called it brown). Cinder was also told by the end of the book, that she was found in Europe. You can see that as someone who's been wanting an Asian MC would be disappointed with finding out that ah, she must be European (and later, more than likely, French). Even if Cinder was Wasian, I believe genetically, the dark hair would have been dominant. I can't say the same for the tan skin since she was outdoors a lot and Asian folks do tan quite easily in the sun and remains tanned for at least 6-8 months.

I would love for Cinder to be Asian, I really would, but all of this evidence just keeps her race too ambiguous personally. I can't seem to get over the "mousy brown hair". If not for this particular descriptor, I would 100% believe Cinder to be Asian. But because we don't even know Channary or Jannali's race with only their names as some kind of clue to Cinder's background, we will never know for sure.

I don't think it helps that a majority of fanart I see of Cinder has very eurocentric features, which draws me back to her thinking she's French/European. It also bothers me that while Winter and Iko get rather well-written descriptions of what they look like (aka black), we can't seem to get one good description, showing some form of Asian representation that I'm sure many of us are grasping at straws for, of the main character of the series. So many of us are still hoping that Cinder is Asian simply because she's living in New Beijing (which I will be making another post at some point about how I, personally believe, is a poorly designed/created city in terms of world-building) but she's literally adopted from Europe (Luna if you wanna get technical, see the first point).

I know my points are kind of moot and there wasn't much warrant for me to go on a tirade about a fictional character created in 2012. But this is important to me as a WOC, as an Asian girlie who so wants to connect to a character that looks like me, that was written to look like me; but I feel cheated and the ambiguity makes it hard for me to fully love Cinder as much as I love the other characters (if anyone is asking, my favorite characters are Winter and Scarlet). If anyone else has thoughts about this or has something to prove to me once and for all that Cinder is Asian. Please send it my way.

PS I wish I had a physical copy to directly quote the book, but again, my second reread was through audiobooks, so I can't reference pages at all atm. Sorry about that TuT Hopefully I can get my hands on a copy from the library soon so I can edit this post with direct lines.

[krispyweiss]

Song Review: Grateful Dead - “U.S. Blues” (Live, April 12, 1978)

Bob Weir’s mousy, high-pitched thank you is in stark contrast to the screaming Jerry Garcia who’d just sung “U.S. Blues” over a unique arrangement that carried more than a taste of “Green Onions.”

The Grateful Dead were obviously feeling rather … er … spirited after the encore break. And that spirit continued after the encore itself.

“Thank you and good night,” somebody else - likely Phil Lesh - intones after Weir in a booming voice as the band makes its way after one crazy-ass “U.S Blues.”

Garcia’s voice is uncharacteristically deep - any guesses as to why? - and he is uncharacteristically amped - any guesses? - as he literally shouts through portions of the song. It’s far from perfect. But it’s one of those unexpected moments that made Grateful Dead shows so perfect in the first place.

Recorded April 12, 1978, in North Carolina, the number is the smoke signal for the Sept. 20 arrival of Friend of the Devils: April 1978, which encompasses eight gigs over 19 discs. April 12 will also be released as a standalone and if “U.S. Blues” is any indication, it’s gonna be cocaine-white hot.

Grade card: Grateful Dead - “U.S. Blues” (Live - 4/12/78) - A-

7/31/24

[misc-muses]

Hi! I would love to say that you are mousy! Really so

Please review me on yelp :prayerhands": 🙌😁😁💕💕💕💕😊🙌🙌🙌🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

[ogradyfilm]

Recently Viewed: Dreadnaught

[The following review contains MINOR SPOILERS; YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!]

Although the Criterion Channel’s description neglects to advertise it as such, the 1981 kung-fu horror-comedy Dreadnaught belongs to Yuen Woo-ping’s loosely connected Wong Fei-hung series. Whereas the original Drunken Master featured the historical figure turned folk hero as a mischievous student (portrayed by the inimitable Jackie Chan) and Iron Monkey explored his childhood (as the son of professional badass Donnie Yen), this film depicts him as a wise old mentor—played, appropriately enough, by Kwan Tak-hing, who starred as the character in approximately seventy-seven movies (according to the notoriously reliable Wikipedia’s undoubtedly accurate count, anyway).

The plot (minimalistic as it is) revolves around Mousy, a meek, cowardly youth constantly terrorized by local thugs, corrupt cops, and… adorable puppies. Since it’s his job to collect on overdue bills for his sister’s struggling laundry business, his timid demeanor is a significant problem; thus, at the insistence of a sympathetic friend, he seeks tutelage under the esteemed Master Wong. The perceptive teacher quickly intuits that his reluctant disciple is a naturally gifted martial artist; he merely lacks the confidence required to effectively utilize his innate skills. When a convoluted sequence of events makes him the target of a deranged, bloodthirsty assassin, however, necessity might yet transform our pussycat of a protagonist into a courageous lion.

Yuen’s greatest talent lies in his ability to convey story and characterization through fight choreography, and Dreadnaught certainly delivers in that regard; every punch calls back to a narrative seed introduced in an earlier scene—a deliciously satisfying display of setup and payoff reminiscent of Edgar Wright’s Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz. During the climactic showdown, for example, Mousy discovers that his family’s trademark “two-fingered grasp” technique is useful for more than just drying clothes; his firm grip strength—developed from years of wringing out wet fabric—gives him an unexpected advantage whilst grappling with his savage opponent… until his foe simply rips off the tattered remnants of his shirt, at least.

That deft juggling of tones—effortlessly transitioning between humor and suspense—elevates Dreadnaught, compensating for its relatively superficial flaws (particularly its uneven pacing). Yuen is justifiably renowned for his contributions to The Matrix and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, but I hope that more of his work as a director becomes (legally) available in the West; while his movies may not be conventionally “prestigious” or stylistically polished (compared to those produced by, say, King Hu), they are consistently entertaining.

[popculturebuffet]

Monthly Muppet Madness: The Muppet Valentine's Show and Muppets: Sex and Violence (Comission for Emma Fici)

Happy almost valentine's day all you happy muppets! Yes we've got a whole lotta love going into this week's reviews and it was weird not to include my faviorite troupe.. and once I found out the first pilot was valentine's theme, I asked to cover it this month and asked emma if she'd be intrested in using her patreon review to cover the other seemingly fitting pilot, Mupppets Sex and Violence So here we are: Jim had WANTED to do a muppet show since before even Seasame Street, but had hit roadblocks trying to get it out due to executives having the same low view of puppets as they presently do of animation, assumign i'ts only for kids and has no merits. And while my thoughts on that line of thinking are pretty clear

It didn't make it easier for Jim. It's why it took two pilots to even get to series and why I likely coudln't find a ton of background on either pilot. The most I got is the first was so succesful that they ordered a second special, and that lead to Lew Grade's series order and one of the greatest tv shows of all time.

I"m always curious about the early origins of something and just coming off covering the Wilkins Ads last week I went into this one with high expectations.. were they reached? Find out under the cut

The Muppet Valentine's Show:

I was shocked to find with these pilots that Jim Henson of all people had growing pains, especially at this stage in his career. It's reassuring, as it reminds me EVERY creator takes a while to get going, I know i did, but it's still weird to see something that's ALMOST the muppet show but feels just enough off to feel weird watching. The format is the show nailed down: a wraparound bit with a bunch of sketches and the majority of the sketches are fantastic: We get a great Kermit number with him singign froggy went a courtin to "miss mousY" and fighting her other suitor, a spectacular giant rat puppet, before both end up going to get beers since Miss Mousy runs off with some other dude. IT's a fun bit and one that would fit perfectly into the muppet show proper… and likely only didn't because while Miss Mousy showed up ocne she had to quitely retire aka run the fuck away from miss piggy if she valued her life.

We also get one starring my man thoggg! This.. this is Thogg

I forget his name often but always light up when I see him and it was wonderful seeing him get a bit focused on him, something i'm not sure Muppet Show proper ever did and Mia Farrow is wonderful as his partner. It's a shockingly romantic bit and nicely swee tfor the holiday.

Finally out of the bits I really liked we had a visit on Koozebane as kermit reports on two aliens doing the Galley-o-hoop-hoop, which involves coldiing into each other and exploding

Which is easily the highlight. I'ts not bad and worth a watch.. but what makes it often a slog is the wraparound which is a mess with the cast consiting of Wallay, George, Mildren and Brewster

Yeah none of these characters lasted.. George was the janitor for season 1 befor ebeing replaced, and Mildred and Brewster would have cameos but while Mildred has some personality, she sadly didn't stick around and the rest THANKFULLY didn't. Paticularlly wally who comes off very

Comared to the actually 70's and awesome electric mayhem. I think Jim quickly realized too cool for school just didn't remotely fit him , and those kinds of characters were better as punchilnes. it also has a script is being written as the episode happens gimmick which isn't terrrible but ultimately just dosen't fit the muppets zany stylings. The Muppets Valentine's show is.. fine and worth a watch if you like Muppets History, but not hugely recomendable as a whole. I would WHOLE HEARTDLY recommend the segements I mentioned though> All are worth a look.. their just not worth sitting through a bunch of characters who just didn't work at all to get there.

The Muppet Show Sex and Violence:

Are you ready for some SEX AND VIOLENCEEEEEEEE? Well too bad because the title's more a joke, as you likely expected. It's also still not qutie there yet and a bit of a harder watch than the valentine's day show. The core is better and the sketeches are good.. but it has one thing holding it back from feeling "like the muppet show but just a tad off": for some reason the sketches are all cut up and thus some like at the dance, a great wrestling bit and mor ehave their timing boggled by taking place throughout the show. It can be disoreninting to watch at times and Jim smartley went back to doing them one at a time and the better sketches don't do this at all.

That said while the presentation is boggled, there are a LOT of great ones: presidents trading banter as mount rushmore, at the dance, a hilariously tangly wrestling match, and the debtu sof the swedish chef, electric mayhem and statler and woldorf who are great as always.My tie for faviorites are return to beneath the planet of the pigs, which would later evolve into PIIIIGGGSSS INNNNNNN SPACCCCCEEEEEE, but here is a hilarious planet of the apes sendup, and theater of thigns where the pencils get a new ruler. It's a corny pun but I absoltuely love it. The sketches are all fantastic aside form birds and the bees which is just a bit of birds singing.. ti's just about half get cut up in a way that just wrecks the pacing. The muppet show sketches work so best because even the songs have a nice, fast pace for them, and thus unless a it is designed to be recurring, it dosen't work that way. Jim learned his lesson but it sadly mucks up some really great comedy.

The wraparound is better as it is cut up on purpose and is basically just host nigel, floyd and my boy sam the eagle meeting the seven deadly sins, all various great muppets. Ti's for a pagent that gets cut off by the credits, but ti's a bit that works for me.

What dosen't.. is Nigel himself who I frequently forget exists because he has no real personality. I mean.. Wally was hilariously tonedeaf, but he at least had a personality and cool dude shades> nigel is just there and thankfully this finally got jim to realize Kermit was the missing piece.

So Sex and Violence is both more and less like the muppet show.. but it was close enough. The pilots aren't great and I once again recommend the skits more than the whole.. but I will say they help illustrate why the muppet show is so special: it's all teh various parts coming together and when you see it with the core quartet mostly missing, no real center character wise.. you see WHY their so special. With just a few pieces their fine but it's as a whole they truly shine. Without Kermit's steady hand, Piggy's overdramatics, Fozzy's bad jokes or Gonzo's delightful weirdness, the show just isn't the same. You can have the muppets without these guys, as we'll hopefully see with Mayhem, they can do thier own things and sketches, but without them at the center of the madness it just dosen't feel the same. All the supporting cast was there but the heart of the muppets hadn't developed yet. And once it did we'd get something truly amazing. For now we just get some specials I honestly struggled to talk about for the last few days as ther'es not a ton to say other than "these just arne't great yet". But I appricate them for reminding me why me and emma do this and why the muppets matter. Their not just a bunch of sketches: their this weird family doing these sketches and you need that vibe for it to work. So how do I rank em? well let's see

Yeah it's.. sadly low. Valentine's mildly edges out Haunted Mansion, as it's three skits are enough to make it slightly better in my eyes, but sex and violence is so far the lowest ranked thing that's not a crime against nature as the choppy formatting just makes it hard to watch.

Next Month: FOLLOW THAT BIRD. FOR REAL THIS TIME. COME HELL OR HIGH FUCKING WATER PERSONAL ISSUES BE DAMMNED. We're actually doing this so I can finally get this giant childlike bird off my back. SEASAME STREET. NEXT MONTH.

[geethr75]

Review of Any Minor World by Craig Schaefer

Blurb For Roy Mackey — a recovering addict who makes his living as an unlicensed PI and occasional muscle for hire — tracking down a dead writer’s final manuscript should be a walk in the park. Too bad his client is a phony, the dead writer is a thief, and shadowy men are watching his every move. All clues lead to a canceled pulp-adventure comic, The Midnight Jury, and its mousy, reclusive…

[light-macadamia]

velvet was the night | books’22

star rating: ★ ★ ★ .5 

genre: crime | historical | mystery

synopsis:

1970s, Mexico City. Maite is a secretary who lives for one thing: the latest issue of Secret Romance. While student protests and political unrest consume the city, Maite escapes into stories of passion and danger. When her neighbor disappears under suspicious circumstances, Maite finds herself searching for the missing woman—and journeying deeper into Leonora’s secret life of student radicals and dissidents

It caught me by surprise, but this one might (emphasis on might) be my second favourite in Silvia Moreno Garcia’s bibliography, with Mexican Gothic still being a crown winner by a mile. Whether that speaks to me being too keen on noir, or wanting to muse on the nature of unlikeable characters, remains to be seen.

Mousy female characters, the unseen secretaries, the shy unwed women, are an archetype made with intentional element of endearment. Their innocence and simplicity is sweet, their small and sheltered life sets up genuine confoundedness for any upcoming bump that goes in the story. Arguably a cheap gateway into readers’ hearts! But modern literature has been more bold in making it a field of experimentation. Because Maite’s mousiness is not endearing, when she is a kleptomanic rat; her shyness hides sexual starvation, and her interest towards others is pulled by the strings of her empty wallet. I have seen many reviews that spoke of how little they could root for her, and I was not rooting for Maite, either.

Maite is the heroine least interested in the story happening around her, and only starts paying attention once it becomes apparent that it might be a crumb of excitement in an otherwise dull meal of her life.

She gets a lot more than she bargained for, a lot more than just payback for cat food, but here is what I am getting at. When it comes to unlikeable characters, it is often not their personal faults that kill the beat. It is the insistence on their inherent goodness regardless of these faults, or insistence on their plain relatability. This is where Monique from The Seven Husband’s was made, for me personally, helplessly distant, and Finlay of Finlay Donovan is Killing It, practically indigestible.There was no such insistence on Moreno-Garcia’s part. It was easy to take a backseat and just accept that Maite is going to float through the story in her own bubble full of cheesy tropes from a paperback romance, while the world around was otherwise occupied - spinning on the axis of oppression and violence. The political instability, young people trampled underfoot, — protestors, moles, or infiltrators — was the content of Elvis’s life; the shadow that gave the defining shape to Maite’s ignorance.

Which fits in so well with what the story is about: lives in the time of government hostility. Those who can choose their ignorance, those who choose otherwise, and those who do not have the option to choose. Silvia Moreno-Garcia speaks to me as a writer, because she takes the reader to a different place in a different time, and shows the things that are familiar anyway. There's some personal relevance to the reader who is a resident of an oppressive state, perhaps that is the place I am speaking out of, and the story’s conclusion was not all too surprising. Velvet was the Night does not aim high in that regard, but there is enough historical genuineness and personability to keep you through the mystery, which remains a given when it comes to this author’s works for me. From a technical point of view, there are certain threads that remain dungling in the end, and there were a couple of word choices that struck me as too sentimental for grittiness typical of noir, especially in Elvis’s parts. But overall, it was an entertaining read, which leaves me about three books to go before I complete Moreno-Garcia’s novel set — maybe some sort of tier ranking is in order.  

[mywifeleftme]

65: Young Marble Giants // Colossal Youth

Colossal Youth Young Marble Giants 1980, Rough Trade

When I went to the record shop today, it was with the intention of picking up some interesting-looking, relatively obscure record to review later this year, but ended up going home with a physical copy of Colossal Youth, an album I’ve heard a billion times. For my purposes, this was kind of dumb: lots of people have written about Young Marble Giants, and I agree with the consensus. (Consensus: Minimal, quiet, mysteriously perfect post-punk with mousy female vocals and no drums.) Not least among these writers is Simon Reynolds, whose detailed liner notes from this 2007 Domino reissue also appeared in his essential book on post-punk, Rip It Up and Start Again, that introduced me to YMG in the first place. He does a superb job of evoking the post-punk (and adjacent) scene of the day—let’s revel in the list of artists who earn mention in Reynolds’ write-up:

Public Image Ltd., Talking Heads, Gang of Four, Cabaret Voltaire, the Pop Group, Scritti Politti, Throbbing Gristle, The Slits, Pere Ubu, Brian Eno, A Certain Ratio, The Residents, Kraftwerk, Ultravox, Can, Reptile Ranch, Desperate Bicycles, Swell Maps, The Fall, The Raincoats, Essential Logic, This Heat, Red Crayola, Kleenex, Joy Division, New Order, Cocteau Twins, Everything But the Girl, Stiff Little Fingers, Carmel, The Style Council.

Probably you know all of those bands (excepting perhaps Reptile Ranch and Desperate Bicycles? Both worth your time!), but it goes a long way towards establishing what a unique black diamond of a record Colossal Youth was to have stood out among that crowd. And Young Marble Giants did stand out��as Reynolds points out, on the strength of that debut LP and a pair of scant EPs Young Marble Giants immediately became Rough Trade’s second highest-selling act of 1980–81, behind only Stiff Little Fingers. The reaction to the 2007 reissue was similarly rapturous.

Let’s revel too in Reynolds’ use of language to describe them, the kind of ecstatic ekphrasis that has always excited me in rock writing:

“The individual songs have something of the ‘rightness’ of things found in nature—leaves, snowflakes, pebbles, sea-shells—that are at once miraculous and yet commonplace, marvelous and unassuming.” “…like an old fashioned pocket watch with its casing open to reveal the moving parts, the Young Marble Giants sound would be pared and bare, its meshwork of cogs and spindles exposed in all its intricate distinctness.” “…a feel that was dynamic and propulsive yet curiously suppressed, subdued, even furtive.” “The brothers’ instruments wound tight around each other like fibres twinning into yarn.” “[Allison] Statton sang with a plaintive simplicity and cool pallor of tone that bypassed all the mannered drama of the singerly arts.” “…the sheer emaciation of the sound…”

That’s the kind of writing I can read for ages, analysis that is gestural, pushing at the connotative possibilities of language to compass a pleasure as physical as it is intellectual—really, it’s generous they threw a pretty good record in with the liners. As to why I came home with this and not any of the dozens of other albums I held up for a squint and a sniff, it comes down to a certain satisfaction in finally sliding a record onto the shelf that I always knew I would eventually own. Young Marble Giants have a historical compactness to match their miniaturist sound. I suppose the real pleasure is in owning such a perfectly small and self-completed thing.

65/365