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curioussubjects · 4 years

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come be a season 12 truther with me; or what if dean and cas got together offscreen

Originally, I wrote this post to celebrate “Galaxy Brain” airing as Berens & Glynn gave us “The Future.” It’s been a while since that episode aired, and some things have changed about this meta. As such, there are multiple versions of this post floating around, so make sure to go back to the source for the most up to date version. For all intents and purposes, this post functions as a meta manifesto not unlike shipping manifestos from days of LJ past. In keeping with that tradition, this post is a close reading of Dabb Era Destiel in which I argue that by using narrative gaps, queer coding, and romance tropes, Dean and Cas are shown to be in an established relationship. Although beyond the scope of this post, it’s worth pointing out that keeping Destiel mostly off screen was a way for the creatives to bypass network censorship while still remaining true to the characters.

This post is divided into three sections. Section I focuses on giving an overview of why earlier seasons of Supernatural aren’t as compelling as season 12 as a turning point for Dean and Cas’s relationship. That said, special consideration is given to 09.06 “Heaven Can’t Wait” as a potential rest stop in our journey due to it’s significantly placed narrative gap as well as themes in the episode. However, this post isn’t going to examine season 9 trutherism in depth, though it does coexist with and allow for it. Section II analyses season 12 and proposes a timeline and justification for the shifting Destiel dynamic. Finally, Section III will offer an analysis of how Dean and Cas’s relationship has changed dramatically from previous seasons in a way that is most like the shift from a “will they or won’t they” pairing to an established one.

Before I move to Section I, I’d like to note something this post takes for granted: Dean and Cas are the main romantic subplot of Supernatural, and, in fact, their relationship is elevated to main plot for both characters in season 15. This post won’t argue about the canonicity of Dean and Cas’s feelings for each other, therefore, and so won’t spend time looking at many Destiel defining moments. I’d also like to make clear that this post also takes for granted that Destiel is being intentionally developed by the writers starting with Carver’s Era, and more so in Dabb’s.

I. Why Seasons 4 through 11 May Not be It

The tl;dr. here is that while there are many moments throughout these seasons that Dean and Cas could potentially get together, none of those moments are ideal for a bunch of reasons that can be summed up as really bad timing. I also think the narrative is actively pushing them towards a moment that works. We get plenty of stepping stones, especially once we hit seasons 8 through 11 (and 11 most of all).

Seasons 4 & 5:

I know there’s been a lot of get together fics over the years set in this time period, but I just don’t see it. Do I see them being intrigued and drawn to each other? Yes. Do I think either Cas or Dean would act on it? Nope. I’m not arguing anything re: Dean’s feelings, but with everything going at the time I find it hard to believe he’d pursue anything with his angel friend. Most importantly here, though, is that during this time Cas was still very alien and other. There was too much angel in him, and while he obviously came to care about Dean (and Sam) very much, I just can’t see him navigating the realm of human relationships. That said, seeing human!Cas in “The End” is the first we see of potential developments for how Cas could behave without his angelness interfering. Being human changes Cas a lot, beyond even his experience existing among humans, though that of course matters too. This development will be important later /wink.

Seasons 6 & 7:

Before anything else let me just recognize that if we could see some sexual tension in seasons 4 & 5, these two seasons come with our first taste of romantic tension. The pining! Also note the difference between season 4 Cas and season 6 Cas in terms of behaviour. He is much less the angel we saw in that barn in “Lazarus Rising.” In season 6, we have a Cas making misguided decisions guided entirely by his emotions – namely, not wanting to involve Dean with the war in heaven – which is peak human, honestly. Put a pin on how sad Dean is in both seasons with Cas’s absence. Finally, put a pin on this being our first moment of Cas doing things on his own to spare Dean and it not ending well (soulless!Sam, Cas “dying” after Leviathan) because this is *the* hurdle in their relationship (along with Dean’s lashing out and self-worth issues). With all this said, the marked distance between Dean and Cas in these seasons negates the possibility of them entering into any kind of relationship. Much like seasons 4 and 5, there’s too much going on.

Season 8:

Ah, yes, the summer of purgatory. If you thought we had pining before…! I think we’re all very clear on season 8 being a turning point for the show, not only because new showrunner, but we also get the bunker. TFW now has an HQ, which pretty soon becomes home. Yes, Baby will always be home, but the bunker becomes the *unmovable* safe haven that Baby couldn’t be. The bunker is a place to coalesce, and for all the amazing things Baby is, she is not that. The acquisition of the bunker marks a shift in the psychology of the show: with the stable home space we can start to imagine domesticity, a place to come home to, the stuff of ordinary living. Most of all, the bunker is emblematic of security, of safety –keep this in mind, as we go forward.

This season also continues to see Cas go down the path of independently solving his problems instead of asking for help from Sam and Dean (his family in a way heaven never was) – note that the better together issue is at play in different ways with Sam and Dean also, but I digress. I also want to point out disastrous instance #2 of Cas’s insistence on figuring it out on his own: he loses his grace, and the angels fall. As for Dean, season 8’s focus for him has much to do with Sam, and them coming face to face with their issues with codependency, which hit catastrophic levels with the gates of hell and Gadreel plots.

So despite all the deliciously angsty get together purgatory fics and spec, there’s too much distance between Dean and Cas on Cas’s part due to his guilt over betraying the Winchesters in s6 plus slaughtering angels plus unleashing Leviathan. We do see Dean being more emotionally open with Cas and continue to voicing his wish that Cas would just stay with him and Sam, and let them help. It’s clear as day how much Dean cares. The timing is still bad, though.

Before moving on to next season, let’s take a moment to appreciate that this is the season Dean admits being kinda done with one night stands because “always with the adios.” Remember the bunker as a sign of stability? Yeah. I wouldn’t say Dean is craving a relationship, exactly, but I think we can see that he does want something more (ahem also I’m nodding to Cas refusing to stay put just cause).

Seasons 9 & 10:

The most important thing to happen between this two seasons is Cas’s stint as a human for an extended period of time. There’s been plenty of spec and meta written over the years about the effects of being human on Cas’s grace (a proto-soul now maybe?). What we can say for sure, regardless, is that Cas is much more humanized once he becomes an angel again. The understanding he gets from being human doesn’t go away once he regains his angel powers. You’ll notice that while we still see some of season 4’s characterization, Cas is not the same as he was – he is alien to angels now and is more intelligible to humans. Additionally, in an interesting reversal from previous seasons, we now get to see the depth of Cas’s feelings for Dean (thanks, Metatron) as well as seeing him be more open emotionally, while Dean does most of the pushing away (first because of Gadreel, then because of the Mark of Cain). In short, the timing is still bad as Dean and Cas are largely kept apart both physically and emotionally.

9.06 Heaven Can’t Wait

This episode is my white whale, friends. While I’ve come to fully subscribe to the idea that something did happen between Dean and Cas during the fanfic gap, I don’t actually think it’s feasible that it marked the start of a relationship -- be it sexual or romantic. My reasoning here is quite simple: the timing is bad. Were it not for external events (Cas regaining his Grace and Dean taking on the MoC), the course would have likely differed. Furthermore, Dean’s guilt over making Cas leave the bunker as well as Cas’s own hurt and self-loathing pose a significant and as yet insurmountable obstacle, which is easily seen with how Dean and Cas’s character trajectories go separate ways.

YMMV on what exactly happened between them in that Motel, but something definitely did. Perhaps one day I’ll have a proper s9 trutherism post to link to here for more details (likely won’t be written by me, though).

10.16 Paint It Black

From the point Dean gets the MoC until the end of season 10, anything between him and Cas is quite impossible due to distancing, to say the least. Again, yes, the fic is really good, but alas. One of the reasons I’m bringing up this episode in particular is because of the confession scene. One, it’s a rare bit of explicit emotional honesty from Dean, and two, it tells me that while he and Cas may be well aware of the Thing™ between them, it’s still uncharted waters. It’s scary, and murky, and they’re unsure how to navigated it or if they should even try. Makes sense, too, there’s been A LOT going on since s6. Anyway, he’s the full confession:

You know, the life I live, the work I do…I pretty much just figured that that was all there was to me, you know? Tear around and jam the key in the ignition and haul ass until I ran out of gas. I guess I just thought sooner or later, I’d go out the same way that I live – pedal to the metal, and that would be it. […] Now, um… recent events, uh… make me think I might be closer to that than I really thought. And…I don’t know. I mean, you know, there’s – there’s things, there’s…people, feelings that I-I-I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time. […] Yeah, I’m just starting to think that… maybe there’s more to it all than I thought.

Can I just say, first, that this confession keeps me up at night because we never actually see anything done with it explicitly? I mean, obviously, I think we do in fact see the effects of this confession in the show, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this behemoth, but still, like. Damn. Ok, so, remember when I brought up that thing in season 7 about Dean being kinda done with hook-ups? Here’s where that led us. We’re seeing a Dean here who wants more than what he has convinced himself he gets to have. He wants more than dying bloody. And when he talks about wanting to experience people and feelings differently, well, that says a lot not just on the queer coding front or the romantic front. I mean, jfc, Dean is accepting the idea that he can have more in life than just hunt until he drops, and he’s specifically talking about experiences at the interpersonal level.

Do you ever see a character having an epiphany and find yourself wanting to cry because this is it right here. Dean is just blatantly admitting he wants more and maybe he can make himself be open to that (!!!), which all culminates in season 11, so…

Season 11:

The pining is still here, but it’s worse now since it’s the whole plot? It’s been *checks calendar* 5 years of this. How are any of us still kicking I don’t know. Your slow burns could never. Cool worth noting points: Cas says yes to Lucifer (bad decision #2.5, lots of mitigating effects_I don’t actually hold it against him that much but Dean is another story & not entirely rational at this point); for the first time since the early days, Dean and Cas are on equal grounds: they’ve both fucked up a lot and have hurt each other. The issues this season are outside their dynamic. Amara and Lucifer here serve as externalizing forces for Dean and Cas’s problems: Cas checks out with Lucifer because he thinks it’s the only way he can help, Dean is caught up in the turmoil of Amara, the emblem of absence and avoidance of struggle. We do get something like an affirmation from the two of them to each other via Dean calling Cas his brother (and I want y’all to consider the historical queering of that statement, and Cas’s “I could go with you.” It feels like we’re headed to them being on the same page. By the end of the season, though, it feels like we’re getting a clean slate: Mary is back, nobody died, no end-of-the-world in sight, no interpersonal crisis. We’re also getting a new showrunner, so. No wonder. We’re gearing up for something, but I’m getting ahead of myself. What this season does that is super important is that it sets up the stage for the possibility of an actual relationship between Dean and Cas, something that has, up until this point, been pretty much impossible.

11.04 Baby

Y’all know what I’m about to quote here, right? That conversation between Dean and Sam about having something with someone who understands the life. Here we still have Dean reverting to the idea that it’s impossible, which is a direct contrast to the openness in 10.16. It’s understandable, though, considering there’s been little reason to think anything like that would be possible (see all the mess and poor timing from seasons past). The quote in question, though, marks a continuing development regarding the issues Dean is struggling with this season:

DEAN: Piper? That’s awesome. Heather. One-night wonders, man. Shoot, we’re lucky we still get that at all. SAM: Really? You don’t … Ever want something more? DEAN: I’m sorry, have you met us? We’re batting a whopping zero in domestic life, man. Goose eggs. SAM: You don’t ever think about something? Not marriage or whatever. But … Something? You know, with a hunter? Somebody who understands the life?

We wouldn’t be talking about this stuff all these years after Sam and Dean had a serious relationship if it wasn’t important, right? Also who else do we meet this season? That’s right! Eileen! And doesn’t that hit different with season 15 hindsight? And who does Dean have that understands the life? Whose stories have been intricately connected to his? Right now, this is all conjecture. A pipe dream Sam is revisiting, and Dean is skeptical about. Except, well. Look at what we get in “Into the Mystic” and “The Chitters.”

11.11 Into The Mystic

I’m bringing up this episode as a cross reference to “Paint It Black” as well as to complement the talk from “Baby,” and to show, again, that, for all the closeness between Dean and Cas, there’s still a marked distance they haven’t yet bridged. There’s still truths they haven’t told each other. Thanks Mildred for the delicious exposition:

Darlin’…If there’s one thing I’ve learned in all my years on the road, it’s when somebody’s pining for somebody else. […] Oh, don’t try and hide it now. Follow your heart. Remember?

11.19 The Chitters

And here we see some validation to Sam’s imagining of a possible future with someone else. We actually see hunters who not only are married, but they both make it out alive. Jesse and Cesar get their happy ending. They make the dream come true. And the reality of it important not just for Dean to see, but Sam too.

Dean: [with realization] Oh, so … [points back and forth to Jesse and Cesar] Cesar: Yeah. Dean: Okay, that’s… Cesar puts his beer bottle on the table and looks at Dean, while Jesse is being silent. Dean: What’s it like, settling down with a hunter? Cesar: Smelly, dirty. [turns to Jesse] Twice the worrying about getting ganked.

I’d like to point out, too, that the fear of getting ganked is thematic when it comes to the tension between Dean and Cas. More on this when we hit s13.

Alright, now, having said that, let’s take a look at season 12. Bear in mind, this is the official start of Dabb’s era, even if he kinda began taking over in season 11, and the change in vibes is obvious. In fact, 12 jumped out at me as a turning point, in hindsight, after getting smacked by the domesticity of seasons 13 and 14.

II. Why Season 12

[Out of date section. Update coming soon when spoons. After significant debate, I’ve altered the definitive start of Dean and Cas’s friend-with-benefits-with-mutual-pining relationship to between 12.02 and 12.03. I briefly explained why here, and yes it’s a shitpost--still true tho.]

Finally, the promise land, y’all. Getting right to it: what s11 was for Dean in terms of setting up the relationship stage, s12 was for Cas. In its initial beats, any way. That is, until the Kelly debacle, this was the longest Cas has been around the bunker and with the exception of seasons 13 and 14, it’s one of the first times we get to see how Cas might actually fit into the bunker-as-home. Things seem remarkably chill. Of course, we’ll notice that there’s still a lot of baggage hanging around because despite Dean and Cas being in a more stable place, they haven’t actually dealt with their interpersonal problems. I didn’t single out directly this episode, but do keep in mind Cas’s declaration in 12.09 First Blood as far as how much the Winchesters matter to Cas & how we also see Dean and Cas be particularly singled out with them seating together in the backseat of the Impala. What we also see this season is Cas trying to prove he is worthy of this family, his family. He’s not fighting for heaven or to right some grievous wrong (a la s8). No, this season he’s fighting to spare the Winchester, to bring them a win. To bring Dean a win. The major disconnect is that Dean (and Sam & Mary) already sees Cas that way, he doesn’t think Cas has anything to prove. And just maybe, Cas starts believing that too – or, at least, believing it enough.

12.10 Lily Sunders Has Some Regrets

This episode, oh my god, the goodness. In the wake of 12.09 we have Dean and Cas in a tiff because Cas mistake #3 (killing Billie and “cosmic consequences”), this is a pattern. Twice the worry of getting ganked, etc etc. But where this episode really shines is through the contrast between Ishim’s obsession with Lily and Cas & Dean’s mutual affection for each other. Ishim sees no difference here and, to him, Cas’s feelings for Dean are a human weakness. Returning to my point about human!Cas, this episode underscores that Cas’s increasing humanity is what puts him in the place where he can want what Dean wants instead of either being too alien to get it (see s4 & 5) or unable to experience it properly (Ishim).

12.12 Stuck in the Middle (With You)

Cas’s trajectory culminates here with the whole I love you (@ Dean), I love all of you (@ Winchesters). Let’s note too that Cas is dying here, in a way that is much more human than going up in light. This declaration of different types of love is entirely human. It’s also a definitive step wrt to Cas and Dean’s relationship because of what happens in 12.19. This. is. it. Oh, and, of course, let’s not forget to point to Dean’s face when Cas says that “I love you,” and how terrified he is that Cas is dying. Might make one rethink some things, hm?

12.19 The Future

This episode is simply hella suspicious, and all the kudos to Berens and Glynn for writing it. It’ll haunt me forever. Consider watching it again and just questioning everything. So. Weird things:

1. Dean’s reaction to Cas no getting in touch as opposed to Sam’s. Dean is pissed, which is Dean-speak for worried out of his mind. Sam is very worried, too, and puzzled, but he’s mostly expressing his relief that Cas is back. But Cas has gone awol before, but this time Dean is much more worked up about it; Sam takes note of this, too. Now, let’s imagine that maybe the events of 12.12 led to something happening between Dean and Cas. Then Cas decided to leave to find a lead on Kelly, but eventually Cas decides to work with Heaven and goes radio silent. For days. Having taken a chance, and something having happened between them, how would Dean react to Cas just going poof and not contacting him – despite Dean having called Cas multiple times.

2. Cas knows about the Colt. Ok, nothing off there. But when he goes to Dean’s room to talk, right after Dean leaves we see Cas looking around briefly. Like he know Dean would keep it in there. Maybe Cas had looked other places already. Who knows. What we do know is that eventually he does find the Colt not only in Dean’s room, but under Dean’s pillow. Sam didn’t even know the Colt wasn’t in the safe. So how did Cas know?

3.“He came into my room and he played me.” So, this quote right there, makes it seem like some seduction for personal gain, right? But can you see Cas actually doing that if they hadn’t gone there previously? For Dean not to suspect anything and go with it? There’s plenty of plausible deniability here, but the gaps in time in the narrative make me question what is there in those spaces. The scene where Cas tried to give Dean the mixtape back doesn’t read like “playing,” so it’s about a different interaction. Hm. Hmmm.

4. Dean and Cas’s brief conversation in Dean’s room is clearly Dean just wanting Cas to stay, so they can work (and be) together – because they’re better that way. Which, yeah, truth, but also ow.

5.And most importantly: When did Dean give Cas that mixtape??? How did that happen?

Sequence of events: Cas tells Dean he loves him – Dean is clearly shook by it – Dean gives Cas a mixtape (romantic gesture, often a declaration of feelings; in true Dean speak too lolsobs) – Cas goes awol - Dean acts like he got ghosted by his new bf -?????- Cas somehow knows the Colt is under Dean’s pillow – "He went into my room and he played me."

What am I supposed to do with that, hm? Like. Y’all realize they probably had some emotionally constipated getting together moment, right? Something that Dean clearly initially thought meant things were gonna change, now. Something that Cas couldn’t allow to happen until he could give Dean a win. Y’all are seeing this, yeah? I’m not saying they slept together and were full of feelings, except that’s kind of what I’m saying. But YMMV, there are other possibilities beyond sex. The full of feelings isn’t up for debate, though, even if the whole thing is informed by ridiculous amounts of miscommunication.

III. Seasons 13 through 15 As Established Relationship

Regardless of what happened in season 12, exactly, I can’t shake the feeling that something did happen, and something did change. My reasoning here is actually really simple: in comparison to previous seasons, Dean and Cas’s dynamic shifts significantly come season 13. I know some folks have been disappointed with some of season 13 and then season 14 for having dialed back on the destiel side of things. And, hey, maybe there’s truth to that in terms of backstage stuff, but I also want to point out that...well, the dialing back isn’t quite dialing back is it? Let’s look at 13 a little more closely:

Season 13:

So I said the deancas dynamic changed, right? I also think that change caught us unaware because the pivotal turning point that would cue us in never happened on screen as well as being subsumed by Cas’s death and Jack’s birth. But if I ask you about deancas in season 13 what would come to mind? Grief arc? Brokebacknatural? How domestic Dean and Cas are? There’s just something easy about their relationship after Cas returns from the Empty. The tension we’d grown so familiar with over the years is gone. Actually, it feels like we skipped the getting together bit of their relationship and went straight to established relationship and parenting. Some of the most peak married deancas moments we see circulating? Season 13, (and 12.10). It’s a lot, and it’s different, and it’s amazing.

13.01-13.05

Dean’s grief mini-arc. He was acting like a widower. Here’s me vaguely gesturing towards the mapping of Jonh, Mary, Dean, and Sam onto Dean, Cas, Sam, and Jack. And the reunion? I can’t help but be giddy at the song choice: “it’s never too late to start all over again.” To. Start. All. Over. Again. I’m just saying.

13.06 Tombstone & 13.16 Scoobynatural

I’m not going at length about these episodes, I just want to point out that they reveal that Dean and Cas have a whole thing going on off screen: they watch movies together, Cas knows about Dean being an angry sleeper, Cas seems to have been aware of the Dean-cave before Sam was. It’s little things like this that are examples of the narrative gaps surrounding Dean and Cas that have cropped up over the years. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to wonder what else could be hiding there. And when did the movie nights alluded in “Tombstone” happen? Maybe in season 12 when Cas in hanging around the bunker? The same period when Dean and Cas seem to be coalescing into something safer and more stable? Something that we never see come to a head because plot happens and Cas dies? Something that is immediately taken back up once Cas is alive again?

Season 14:

Overall, this season is more of what we got during 13, but it had two high notes I wanted to single out before ending this already too long post.

14.15 Peace of Mind

Look me in the eye and tell me Dean and Cas talking in the kitchen about Jack doesn’t read like husbands talking about their child. Look me in the eye and tell me Cas just texting Dean to gossip about Sam isn’t couple-y as hell.

14.18-14.20

Ah, yes, the divorce arc. Awful. Terrible. The culmination of Dean’s problem in all this: he lashes out, he pushes Cas away, his anger is alienating. Cue all of us suffering. But while Dean is clearly in the wrong in how the deals with his feelings, let’s not pretend some of his anger doesn’t come from a long established, and unaddressed, rift between him and Cas, which had its last traumatic turn when Cas died in s12. Dean isn’t being rational here: he saw Cas doing something on his own, and he saw that his mother is dead. What else could happen? Why won’t Cas just trust they can work as a team? What if Cas died again? And why should Cas put up with Dean’s behavior without knowing the cause? How can any relationship work this way? But notice how caught in the middle Sam was during all this. Notice how Jack is running off and acting out. The whole family is falling apart. Divorce arc, indeed.

Season 15:

But what about what we’re building up in 15? That seems like it could be a getting together plot, too, right? Well, yeah. It could very well be. But I’d argue the tension we’re seeing isn’t a will-they-or-won’t-they because they already have. We’re are watching a getting back together plot! The tension is, instead, will-they-or -won’t-they use their words to talk about the baggage that has kept them from truly being confident about their relationship. That’s the crucial step in their togetherness that they’re still missing, which is also the bedrock of the divorce arc that spanned twelve fucking episodes -- y’all, that’s half a season.

And technically? We’re not even done with yet because Cas never let Dean finish his prayer/confession in purgatory. What’s more, Cas hasn’t grappled with his role in the breakdown of their relationship, either: that he keeps going off on his own and getting hurt (and getting other people hurt), and Dean has to deal with the fallout. The deep emotional understanding, the truly being on the same page is what we’re on the edge of our seats for. We’re waiting to see what else Dean had to say, and what will happen when Cas’s deal with the Empty comes to light.

Finally, could we still have this plot without Dean and Cas having gotten together off screen? Sure, but I think the stakes are higher if they already did have something between them. If they actually have an established romantic relationship going on. Something real and tangible and as of yet much too fragile.

"...you asked what about all this is real. We are."

#destiel #deancas #supernatural #spn #spn meta #this thing is gargantuan yikes #anyway enjoy? let's chat #my writing #this thing is half meta half my adhd unleashed

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psyga315 · 4 years

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The problem of "I Watch RWBY For The Fight Scenes" and how to account for when that logic fails.

“I watch RWBY for the fight scenes.”

You heard these words before at some point in the RWBY community. Ever since the Red Trailer back in 2012, there was a huge emphasis on fights as shown with the titular “Red” doing nothing but battling proto-typical Beowolves. No huge emphasis was put on story bits like how she was visiting her mother’s grave or on the music (Red Like Roses pt. 1 has only 4 verses and most of it’s instrumental), and Ruby isn’t even voiced in the trailer. Hell, for a good chunk of RWBY’s pre-production stage, fans perceived Ruby as a stoic girl. RWBY’s core has been the fight scenes… Right?

Well, it doesn’t really take a rocket scientist to figure out that isn’t true. While an argument can be made of how RWBY’s fights are what makes the show, the case can’t be held true for its quantity and quality. Volume 3 is the only Volume in RWBY where there’s at least a fight scene per episode (the sole exception being Episode 8, Destiny), some even having two or three packed into one episode, making the Volume more of a roller coaster, especially in the last quarter. Conversely, Volumes 4 & 5 are the volumes with the fewest amount of fights, both totalling to 5 spread out across their 12 and 14 episode run, respectively, with Volume 5’s feature fight, the Battle of Haven, being the subject of massive ridicule to the point where a two-hour video was made to detail all the errors made, among them being that the core climax of that fight occurs off screen.

However, the reverse can be held true. Some criticisms for Volume 3 include that the fight scenes were either extraneous or had poor quality to them while the highlights of Volumes 4 & 5 were things that they made up for in spite of having the fewest amount of fight scenes. So, this begs quite a few questions towards RWBY.

Most of them, however, can be summed up into one: “What feature of RWBY can match or even rival its alleged selling point in case the viewer encounters a drought or lack of quality in fight scenes?” For these, we’ll break them down into some categories. I will try to be as fair as possible for this.

The first, obvious thing, would be:

Plot, Setting and Theme

Can a viewer enjoy RWBY for its plot when the fights prove lacking, evocative themes or even its rich environment? It depends. One of the biggest things that fans enjoyed about Volume 3 was its development of the plot. Suddenly, the world expanded and there’s tons of depth and lore to an otherwise standard “wake up, go to school, save the world” deal.

However, later complaints of RWBY involve the plot in some way. One of the biggest conflicts between fans in RWBY’s 7th Volume was the execution of its cliffhanger which involves the main villain flying in with her army of monsters, many arguing that at that point, the plot has entered a phase known as “only the author can save them now”, which causes some fans to even beg for an explanation as to why Salem never did something like what she did before.

While the setting in RWBY has been interesting, at times, they end up with the short end of the stick. No case is this more truer than when Mistral, reputed as a two-faced Kingdom which had both a cultured surface and a seedy underworld, was reduced to a few paintings and a couch and only now have the people at Rooster Teeth decided to shed more light on it as a setting for their Dungeons and Dragons campaign.

The themes are extremely interesting to dissect, especially since there’s a meta layer to some of them with the passing of Monty Oum leaking into some of the plot developments and even music decisions. This, too, however, is subjective to taste, though due to the nature of themes themselves and not because of execution. One person could have a completely different interpretation of what RWBY’s core theme is compared to another’s, and that leads to their opinions. For instance, a common theme that critics picked up on in RWBY is “Kids vs. Adults” as they end up reading the conflicts that occur in RWBY and Ruby’s wording in her speech to Qrow as “kids rule, adults drool”, something they took contention with.

While plot, setting, and theme are there, it isn’t enough to supplant fights should they fail too… So, what about…

Characters and Relationships

Can a viewer enjoy RWBY for its characters and relationships? I feel like this would be a strong case to make, but at the same time, this is also a bit of an oxymoron. While the characters can sometimes feel interesting and their relationships even more, the problem is that the characters sometimes lack the focus necessary to be fleshed out and their relationships even less.

You might heard these complaint before: “Bumblebee came out of nowhere”, “Black Sun/Fair Game was bait”, or even “RWBY has too many characters!” and that is, in of itself, a bit of a problem with RWBY. When it takes the time to do character arcs and relationship progression, it is pulled off masterfully, though whose arc it was is also subjective. A key contributor to the problem is how RWBY’s focus is spread too thin.

There’s, on average, 13 characters that make their first appearance in each Volume of RWBY, about half to three quarters of them go on to make reappearances in other Volumes and even a few of them become major characters. This becomes a balancing act for RWBY to juggle all the characters and developments, leading to two characters getting a massive shaft: Ruby, the main character of RWBY, and Oscar Pine, a plot important character.

Ruby has the criticism of being a flat character. While there’s no inherit problem in of itself, the fact that the plot has been shifting and stakes become raised while the most we got out of Ruby before Volume 6 is that, sometimes she expresses sadness, was concerning. Even after Volume 5, a common complaint is that her “character development” consists of her delivering speeches.

Oscar’s problem is that the most pivotal moments of his character are relegated to the background, to the point where his nickname is “Offscreen Pine”, as every Volume since his first in Volume 4, there has always been some moment of his story that happened off screen and, often, it was that moment that makes his character arcs of those Volumes incomplete.

That is also a bit of a problem with relationships as well. Sometimes they end up being complete without any actual set up or they do have set up, but it’s either a red herring for the actual ship or, most infamously, it was never intended to be a ship to begin with. Now, there are ships that have been well-developed, but, again, it’s subjective. One such example is Bumblebee, which, to this day, has been hotly debated as whether it’s the best ship RWBY’s done, a rushjob of a ship that was only made to appease the fans after a lackluster Volume, or, at worst, a ship so polarizing, that merely criticizing it would have you accused of being a homophobe.

In fact, some characters develop at different rates, to the point where it is almost whiplash and requires a fan to actively point out how the development was foreshadowed from the start of RWBY (which, itself, leads to a common criticism). Two infamous examples of this are Adam Taurus, who only appeared in a short trailer before making his full debut appearance three years later and showing a completely different side to him, and General Ironwood, whose status as an antagonist is still being debated to this day.

So, these two fields are also wild cards in terms of enjoying RWBY… So, what then? Perhaps we could turn to…

The Community

Watching RWBY is one thing, but talking about RWBY with other people might make it worth it, right? … Yeah, depends. RWBY has become a rather… interesting subject matter. Trawl around the internet enough and you’ll find people in a fight about whether RWBY was good or not… though it’s more often one side calling the other side names and insults nowadays.

No example is truer than Youtube, which if you ask a RWBY fan, is a minefield and that, if you watch just one video of a person saying how they dislike even one aspect of RWBY, you’re suddenly swarmed with videos on “RWBY sucks and here’s why” essays… Even though that’s not how the Youtube algorithm works.

Even RWBY’s Reddit isn’t safe from this. Since the end of Volume 6, it had fractured into a smaller subreddit, RWBY Critics, where people freely share their opinions of RWBY that they would otherwise be judged harshly on the main Reddit. It feels like, when you traverse through the RWBY community and interact with it, you either love it or hate it and your first impressions could mean the difference between getting welcomed or rejected.

It doesn’t help that, with every hiatus in RWBY, the fanbase becomes more and more unstable, to the point where a contest made in good fun with the purpose to help Rooster Teeth with designs for Grimm (a win-win) was eventually turned into a toxic environment simply because one of the artists chose to base a Grimm off something that people found culturally insensitive and made even worse when endorsements were made in favor of and against this aforementioned Grimm, eventually forcing Rooster Teeth’s hand in removing the public’s ability to vote and judging on the three remaining Grimm designs (two of them ended up being removed for different reasons).

I know that was a very specific example, but it highlights just how broken the community has become. It bears repeating: a fan contest where Rooster Teeth would use the winning design in RWBY ended up becoming a flame war because one of the designs was determined to be problematic and a couple of people promoted/denounced the design, effectively rigging the contest to be centered around this one design. I will not be surprised if, years down the line, when someone else chronicles the worst dramas in RWBY, this would at the very least get an honorable mention.

And then there are where you stand on certain characters or plots. Should you ever find that your opinion differs from the majority’s opinion on a certain matter, prepare for a world of hurt or even being asked “why do you even watch RWBY?” That said, I doubt the entire community is as dark as I put it. I think there’s parts of the fandom you can enjoy, like fanmade content or even just a simple conversation with a close-knit group, especially if you enjoy RWBY…. Which, I guess leads to…

So… What do you watch RWBY for?

The point of this article was to see what part of RWBY one can find enjoyable when fight scenes prove to not work and, given what I said, you might expect me to say that there’s nothing enjoyable… Though, surprisingly, my conclusion is a lot more optimistic than that.

If you watch RWBY solely for the fight scenes, then prepare for droughts or lack of quality, or even just watch fight compilations. However, if you watch RWBY solely for the plot, setting, themes, characters, relationships, or even the community itself, then you’ll need to be prepared for similar problems.

There’s two keys to enjoying RWBY: having tolerance or patience, and having more than one thing to watch RWBY for. I think a major reason why you usually have a bunch of people drop RWBY after a volume is because they were disappointed with how RWBY did something or how RWBY lacked in something and decided to quit while they were ahead. For the most part, it might be that they took all they could get from RWBY and decided they had enough.

That said, I’ve seen people sing praises for RWBY’s story, setting, theme, characters, relationships, and even community. It’s led me to think of this struggle to find enjoyment in RWBY to be similar to a theme found in the show: the theme of persevering in the face of despair. Several characters in the show have become bitter, cynical, or even evil because they had enough of the hardships that the world threw at them while the heroes are those who try desperately to keep moving forward in spite of that.

And it’s not easy, I will admit that. It’s not easy to come back to enjoying RWBY once you begin to feel contempt for it. After the finale of Volume 5, I felt confused. Before, I had wanted to enjoy every episode of the Volume, but this one felt so rushed and so incomplete that I found myself thinking “that’s it?”. While I started to become cynical about RWBY after Volume 4 and had temporarily dropped RWBY in between “The First Step Pt. 1”’s release and sometime after “Breach”’s premiere, it was Volume 5 that made me begin to lose enjoyment. Just knowing that Rooster Teeth could do something like Volume 5 again had me lose faith.

However, there are moments that made RWBY enjoyable for me. Certain episodes were hailed as being good watches, there were a few plots, characters, and relationships I enjoyed (even ones I normally wouldn’t got some delights), settings I wished would be better explored, and I’m always going to examine themes of RWBY since that’s one thing I enjoy about it.

And, true enough, RT has done stuff that even the more hardened of critics enjoy. It’s all about patience, tolerance, and perseverance.

I know this isn’t a straight and narrow answer, but there are no easy answers. The major takeaway from this is that “I watch RWBY for the fight scenes” has the potential to backfire and you need backup reasons to enjoy RWBY and a little bit of patience in order to appreciate RWBY.

#RWBY #RWDE

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awackyphdinadorkable · 5 years

Text

Snippety snip for that Pearl Harbor AU I keep obsessing about... for reasons.

As mentioned in this post, I can’t stop thinking about an AU based on the Pearl Harbor movie… to the point that I started writing something even though I really shouldn’t, but I can’t stop thinking about it (obsessing about it…) because it gives me massive Cherik feels, what can I say?

And all those wonderful gifs people keep creating for the Paris Proposal scene in Dark Phoenix (thank you all so very much for this!!!) only ever sent me more into dem feelz mode. So yeah, I’ll make y’all suffer with me with (VERY drafty) cheesy kiddy Cherik stuff for now since we’d definitely explore those boys throughout the years in that Pearl Harbor AU for ALL of the pining.

*salutes*

——————————

There once was a young man whose father made him wings so he could fly. Feathers and wax and wood brought together to bring into the sky what otherwise was bound to the earth. A man grew wings. Like a bird, Icarus soared up into the sky.

Yet, the higher he flew, the warmer the sun, the softer the wax became.

He flew higher than any man had ever done.

And perhaps even higher than some birds dared to reach, even though they are the princes of the sky, the kings in small whose only limit is the sky itself.

He did the impossible, made it possible, bound it down, made it smaller, brought it down to the earth by bringing himself so much up higher.

He made man fly.

He conquered the air where so many generations before him had conquered the same grounds below over and over, drawing invisible boundaries in the sand, which was a cheap magic trick at best, nothing compared to what he achieved with wood, wax, and feathers.

He discovered a land no man knew, no man could divide or claim, because the sky belonged to no one, won’t ever belong to anyone, as fleeting as it is, as fast as it drifts away, as vast and unending it shall forever remain.

He tasted the freedom of a man who left everything behind except for himself, except for the sky and the sun shining within it, breaking through the clouds, sending a golden glow across the wings a father gave to his son to conquer, to discover, to see.

And as high as he flew, so deep he fell, leaving no more than a father weeping at his tomb, and a name to pass into legend, a myth to last for many generations yet to come, inspiration for a great many tales and stories meant to warn us, caution us, towards the height of hubris.

And yet, against all warnings, people decided to climb into the sky again… and again… and again. Wax and feathers became canvas and wooden machinery. Wood and canvas became metal. And metal, despite its weight, against all odds, learned to climb higher than any solid element should ever reach.

Or so one would think.

And yet, people kept falling from the sky, knowing what had happened to this young man, having learned his story, his tale, his name, knowing how deep he had fallen, knowing the warnings – and ignoring them.

They kept falling from the sky and rising again… and again… and again.

Which begs all but one question: Why does man want to fly?

The answer? Over that the philosophers will likely continue to agree to disagree.

But if there is one thing people seem to agree upon regarding the matter, it’s this:

Flying means freedom.

Up in the sky, there are no laws, no rules, nothing to hold you down, nothing to hold you back. There is just the air and the clouds and the birds and the sun – and you, brave yet foolish man, trying to climb higher than all those before you tried to reach before.

And only if you fly too high, only if you let pride and hubris gain victory over the sweet taste of freedom, does wax turn fluid, does canvas tear, and metal shriek, to teach you the limits of your own nature once more, down on the ground below, leaving nothing but unmarked tombs, only few of which will pass into legend.

But if you allow the winds to carry you, if you give yourself to the sky, to its vastness, its limitlessness, there is nothing to hold you back.

And yet, us humans? We are no birds. We are no creatures of the sky.

We are no princes or kings of this most curious space without a place.

We are always bound to return to the ground below eventually.

In the end, we trade freedom for a landing place.

For a home.

That is where we began.

That is where we return.

That is where we end.

Each and every time, even when hubris claims us viciously, it is to this earth that we return.

So why does man land and not keep flying, if given the chance?

And there seems to be just one answer:

Because the price for freedom is responsibility, is trust, is family.

The price for freedom is having something to return to.

The price for freedom is being bound to something, someone, a thread attached to your ankle, never pulling you down but always connecting you to the dust from which you rose and to which you will return.

You may no longer be as free as you were, as free as the princes of the sky, forever up in vastness, without limits, but at the very least, you will know that, on the ground below, this one yet powerful truth that the sky cannot give you:

You are not alone.

——————————

“You know we shouldn’t be doing this. We shouldn’t even be here.”

“And you should know that I don’t care.”

“If someone catches us…”

“We run. Now c’mon, Charles! Don’t be a chicken!”

“I am no chicken, Erik!”

“Then come and prove it!”

Charles wrinkles his nose, his lips curling into a petulant frown. No, Charles Francis Xavier is most certainly no chicken, and he would rather die than leave his best friend under the belief that it is so. Yet, they shouldn’t be out, not at that hour, not outside, and certainly, nowhere near the hangar.

The young boy doesn’t get to ponder that for much longer, however, as Erik takes a hold of his wrist and pulls him along, the way Erik always does. And if Charles were honest with himself, he’d have to admit that he likes to be pulled along by Erik, away from the mansion, away from a house with too many rooms and too much space. He particularly likes it when Erik pulls him over to the house at the far end of the property where he and his mother live. It’s always warm there. There is not too much space for someone to fill who walks inside. And the moment either Erik, his mother, or the two of them are there, Charles finds that the house is just about perfect because there is someone in every room. There is light and the smell of burned candles and sourdough bread.

Oftentimes, Charles wished he lived there instead of the sometimes, very often, far too large estate with too many rooms and too few people to take up the space within. While he never knew another house to live in, Charles still finds himself scared of shadows behind vases that look like people he can only faintly hear whisper somewhere, distantly, and make him want to run away and never look back. He never has the urge to run from Erik’s house, though. He always feels welcome there, and he knows every small object, every shadow, in the flickering light of a dozen candles.

Erik’s mother is kind and has a soft voice that puts Charles mind to rest whenever he comes through the door, giving Charles the most curious feeling of coming home when he knows his home is the large building at the other end of the property. And she always smiles so brightly when Charles comes to their small house with some flowers he plucked in the gardens for her in hand, which makes it all the better. There is warmth in that small house where there is cold in the residence his family lives in. So yes, he’d wished that one of these days, he could allow Erik to pull him all the way to the house, one last time, and then never go back to the mansion.

Not that this is ever going to happen, of course. Charles knows that.

However, more than anything, he’d want to have Erik around him all the time. As many hours as they spend together, just as many more Charles would want to have Erik around him.

Because Erik means adventure.

Erik means excitement.

Actually, the name Erik means “eternal ruler” in Old Norse, alternatively from the Germanic word “Ehre” for honor and the Proto-Germanic word for “king.” Thus, Erik means “the honorable king.” At least that is what Charles read in one of the many, many books at his disposal, back when Erik and his mother first came to Westchester. He was very interested in this small family the moment he got to know Erik’s mother through her work in the house, so much more than Charles was with his studies – for the first time in his life. Because they had such a lovely accent and their presence on the estate held the promise of a companionship Charles didn’t know until he found it in Erik.

So yes, Erik actually means something along the lines of an honorable, eternal king, which Charles finds fitting enough, but that is not what Erik means to him.

Erik, to Charles, means getting out of his study, away from his home tutors, away from his books, even though Charles loves those dearly.

Erik means being outside.

Erik means sunlight and rolling on the grass and dozing off until his mother calls him away for dinner.

Erik means sneaking into each other’s rooms late at night, and listening to songs.

And above all, Erik means flying.

“I still can’t believe your father had that plane and no one ever told me!” Erik roars as they steal inside the hangar. Charles tags along, only looking back over his shoulder once. It can’t be helped anyway, he knows that much, too.

Once Erik made up his mind, his resolution is absolute.

Once inside, both let go and roam around, though the two boys soon gravitate towards the same object. Erik’s smile broadens as he approaches, stroking the smooth steel with his fingers.

Erik also means steel, means metal, tin, gold, silver, copper, all of the elements that can be drawn with the power of a magnet.

His friend often says he can hear metal, and Charles has no doubt in his mind that Erik can. After all, Erik never lies to him. And the way he touches metal, Charles knows for certain that he can hear a song no one else can hear. There are those times when Charles wished he could hear it, too, but then again, Erik also told him how hard it is at times, to keep himself together, not to lose composure, not to let the song ebb into this world and move metal objects by accident and get someone hurt.

Charles knows that song too well himself, albeit a different stanza and melody. While he cannot hear the song of metal, Charles hears other things, voices, and sadly, they are not nearly as often soft singing voices that come from the stroke of metal or Erik’s mother humming German nursery songs while she is cooking dinner. In fact, the song he hears often scares Charles, because there are too many voices, singing at once, never creating harmony but discord, growing louder and louder and louder until he can’t even hear his own voice inside his head anymore.

However, Erik means reassurance and calm, and that helps a lot.

Because they are together. And so long they are together, Charles knows he has someone who knows this song and who understands how tired one can grow of having to listen to it, having to ignore it.

They are together.

And together, they are never alone.

Sometimes, life can be that simple.

“Well, my stepfather does not appreciate me going here,” Charles says, standing one step behind Erik, not yet daring to reach out to the plane shining far brighter in the light than it should have any right to do. Because it’s far too tempting to ignore.

Erik turns around to Charles with a huff. “Does he appreciate anything other than you studying?”

“… Money?”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Then no.”

“See, and that’s why that guy is a lost cause,” Erik huffs, waving his left wrist in the air, before clapping it against the side of the airplane. “Look at this beauty. If you can ignore that for money’s sake, you really don’t deserve having it.”

“My grandfather actually used to fly one in war, I think. My father not, at least that is what Mother said,” Charles recounts. His father was a scientist, though he died shortly after Charles was born, leaving only ever so vague memories and washed photographs from his mother on his mind.

“Your people are odd.”

“I know.”

“You are odd, too.”

Charles nudges him in the side with a pout. “Hey!”

“I like that about you, not about them, but your oddness… it’s alright,” Erik sniggers.

“Why, thank you, Erik. I like your oddness, too.”

“Much appreciated.”

And while it’s said in sport just now, it holds more truth than most would ever come to comprehend. Because they are not like everyone else, but between them, that never was a problem. If at all, it only ever brought them closer together.

“So now. We gotta get in!”

“I still don’t find this a good idea,” Charles argues.

“Which is why I am leading this operation,” Erik says, pointing at himself with his thumb. “Do you see a ladder somewhere?”

Charles snorts at that. “Don’t you know as the head of the operation?”

Erik rolls his eyes at him before going around looking for one. Charles spots it with ease and puts up the ladder with a thud to announce his little victory. “There you go.”

“One can always count on you, Charles,” Erik laughs, clapping the slightly shorter boy on the shoulder, before grabbing the ladder with the other hand. “I get to sit in the front!”

“Why?”

“Because I am older.”

“Just by two years.”

“Still older by two years.”

“But I am smarter.”

“I am taller.”

“Which means you’d better be in the back so I can see,” Charles points out. Erik looks at him for a long moment, curling his lips in a pensive frown before answering, “… I can make myself smaller.”

Charles leans his head back with a grunt. “Just get in.”

Erik smirks before climbing the ladder, quick to hold out his hand to help Charles get into the back of the biplane’s passenger seat. Charles accepts reluctantly, but then again, Erik always pulls him along, so why would that be any different.

Once both are seated, it feels like a whole new world opens before their eyes. As many hours as they pretended to be pilots flying over the green grass of the Westchester Mansion, it should be little surprising to anyone that this is what the two want to do for the rest of their lives.

“That’s the best thing ever! And one of these days, Charles, we’re going to fly it,” Erik croons, moving his hands over the controls excitedly.

“Well, not if you asked my stepfather.”

“Who says I’m asking him?”

Charles shrugs. “True again.”

Erik also means simplicity. Charles tends to overthink things at times, because there is just so much on it, not just his own melodies but so many others, that he finds it all the more calming to have someone around him with a mind as clear as Erik’s.

Erik wrinkles his nose as he pats the steering arm. “You know, as great as it is, we are lacking scenery. Do you think you can help with that?”

“You want me to?” Charles blinks at him.

“Wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t, genius.”

Charles smiles before pressing his fingers to his temple, concentrating hard on the images of a blue sky with brightly white clouds. He calls to mind the flight show Erik and he went to last year, which firmly cemented their opinion that there was no other place but the sky for them. And it is this image he manifests not just in his mind but also in Erik’s.

With Erik, Charles doesn’t have to hide his abilities. He even lets him try some things, lets him train by touching his friend’s mind to learn how to do it right. Charles does the same when it comes to Erik learning to move metal – Erik can move whatever objects he wants to see fly in the air so long they are alone, and Charles sees to it that whatever he may end up breaking is replaced before anyone can notice.

Between them, they can be who they are.

And in that way, they are as free as the birds in the sky.

And so, Erik means freedom.

“That’s it! Just like at the show!” Erik shouts, clapping his hands on his thighs as he watches the scenery Charles creates, now with airplanes soaring through the sky. “You’re getting so much better at this, Charles! Amazing!”

“Attack from the left!” Charles yells, allowing for a red biplane similar in design to the one they sit in to cut through the clouds and opening fire on them. Erik roars as he throws his body to the left, moving the plane away from the bullets inside both their minds.

“Oh, that was close! We gotta make a loop next!” Erik croons.

“Here it comes!” Charles warns him. Inside their heads, the plane goes higher and higher, perpendicular to the ground, all the way until blue fades into white and even that powerful red plane can’t reach them.

Erik throws his hands up in excitement. “This feels even more real than last time! I feel like we are moving, Charles!”

What both boys missed in their little flight show is that Erik’s movements and lack of attention to his own powers led to the metal blocks to stop the plane from moving having been swept out of the way and setting the plane not just into motion but also into action as the rotors start to turn and the engine begins to roar.

Charles looks down, noticing that he did not create that inside their minds by any means. “Because we are!”

“As I said, your act’s gotten really good, Charles!”

“Erik, I mean it, we are moving!”

Erik looks down, snapping out of the illusion back into the reality of them rolling through the hangar. “Oh oh.”

“Push the brakes!”

“I am trying, it’s not working!”

“What?!”

“I can’t push them down!”

“Not tall enough after all?”

“Charles!”

“Then use your powers! Make it stop!”

“It’s too big!” Erik insists.

Charles looks around frantically as he sees them approaching the doors at a growing speed.

“The doors!” the younger boy screams. “Open those!”

“That should work!” Erik yells back before focusing all of his attention on the already ajar doors, which need just one shove in the right direction. However, after the first attempts of waving his arms, nothing much happens except for the doors rattling loudly.

“Erik! You have to open them!”

“I am trying!”

“You can do it!”

Erik screws his eyes shut and tries another time, waving his arms left and right, and at last, the doors move away so that the plane can pass through.

“Well done!”

“We’re still not out of trouble yet.”

“What do we do?”

“You hold on tight, Charles!”

They roll out onto the grass. Erik takes a hold of the lever and pulls it up as they reach the edge of the mound.

“We’re so dead!” Charles screams, screwing his eyes shut.

And yet, he feels so much alive right at this moment. Because when he opens his eyes again, he no longer sees the ground, he sees the treetops and the sky beyond it, climbing higher and higher and higher.

“We are flying!”

“But how do we land that thing?”

“I don’t know! You tell me, you are the smart one!”

“I didn’t read a book about that!”

“Oh oh!”

“Try to turn it so that we land on the grass, Erik!”

“Right!”

Erik manages to turn the machine, though the flight down is not just bumpy but nearly shakes both boys out of their seats.

“Hold on, Charles!”

“Have no intention of letting go!”

They scream at the top of their lungs as the plane plunges down, keeps hopping over the grass, whirls and turns. Metal shrieks, the boys scream louder, but at last, the plane comes to a halt, smoke flying up into the sky to which they now also belonged, however short.

“We are not dead, are we?”

“Not yet,” Charles gasps, but then turns his head. “Though we might be in a minute from now.”

Erik frowns. “What?”

“CHARLES FRANCIS XAVIER!”

Charles lets his head hang low as his stepfather rushes up the hill to where they are, well aware that there is no way of escaping him now.

“Maybe we should have landed in the trees after all,” Erik comments with a tight grimace.

“Maybe we should have just stayed up in the air,” Charles mutters as both climb out of the biplane. Kurt Marko is there long before they touch the ground again, his face furious and dark, almost as dark as Charles knows his thoughts to be. Charles tries his best to stay away from his stepfather, but there seems to be no way of helping it just now.

“What on earth were you thinking?!?” his stepfather curses, glowering at Erik, then at Charles. The younger of the two steps forward fast, well aware of what is at stake right now.

“I wanted to see grandpa’s plane and took Erik along. I convinced him to climb in, but somehow, the brake blocks moved aside and we just… started to fly.”

“Started to fly? Started to fly! The thing doesn’t switch itself on at will.”

If only you knew, Charles thinks to himself. There is a great many things his stepfather doesn’t know and wouldn’t understand even if he knew, which is all the more reason for Charles to share his gifts and Erik’s gifts with no one other than Erik.

He ignores his best friend staring at him, well aware that Erik does not appreciate it when Charles gets himself into trouble on his behalf. After all, it had been Erik’s idea, but Charles knows his father to be more cautious around him, because Charles is his father’s son, and that may have been the only man Kurt Marko ever admired in his entire life, hoping to find in Charles what he once saw in Brian Xavier.

“It was an accident, Sir,” Charles tells him as mildly as he can, not wishing to aggravate his stepfather any further. Because that man is like a bomb, always short before detonating.

Kurt narrows his eyes at Erik, then at Charles. “You will never do that again, young man, you hear me?”

He seizes Charles by the elbow and pulls him closer to himself, away from the airplane and from Erik. And it feels so different from how Erik pulls him away, because he actually pulls him along.

“Let go!” Charles shouts, struggling against the tall man’s grip, but his stepfather only ever tightens his grip and makes Charles looks up at him. “Did you hear me? I want an answer, young man!”

Charles bows his head, his dark curls falling into his eyes. “Yes, Sir.”

“Now! You will come back with me – and you will go back to your studies. I shall be damned if you throw your father’s gifts away by flying a metal can!”

“Yes, Sir.” Charles bites on his bottom lip. He loves studying, he loves reading, but he hates to be forced to stay inside because his stepfather believes he has to become a certain kind of person, based on the heritage of a man Charles only knows from his mother’s blurry recollections. Charles is quite sure that the man Kurt Marko wants him to be is nowhere close to the man Charles himself wants to become.

Because the man Charles Francis Xavier aspires to be has a best friend and spends time inside and outside. It is a man who studies hard but runs even harder. And it is certainly a man who will fly a plane one day, and hopefully, for the rest of his days alongside his best friend.

“Your father would be very disappointed in you right now!”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And now to you!” Kurt seethes. “If I catch you doing such a thing like that ever again, be sure I will have you and your mother removed from the house!”

“Leave Erik out of this! It was my idea!”

“You are quiet now!” Kurt snaps, turning back to Erik. “This will have consequences, but I am willing to overlook it this one time.”

Erik only ever glowers at him, which Charles may appreciate but would rather have him not to do, well aware of what is going through his stepfather’s mind as he catches sight of the way Erik keeps looking at him.

“I will talk to your mother at once to see about it that she punishes you for this duly. Now get out of my sight before I forget myself.” Finally, Kurt Marko shakes his head, looking back at his stepson. “Now move.”

“Ow!” Charles can’t help but cry when he twists his arm in just the wrong direction. He can hear Erik’s shout inside his head before it leaves his best friend’s lips, cursing himself for having let him notice.

This is always such a trouble.

Because Erik means protectiveness to the point that it hurts – Erik mostly.

“You are hurting him!”

“You are supposed to shut your mouth!”

“You are hurting him!” Erik repeats, balling his fists. “Let go of him!”

“You don’t get to threaten me or lecture me on how I raise my stepson. Now out of my sight!”

“Erik,” Charles tries, but he already knows it to be a lost cause.

“Leave him alone, I said!”

Kurt Marko is momentarily frozen when Erik just lunges himself at him, holding on to the man’s leg and punching against it in the vain hope to protect his friend from harm.

Charles knows he has to act now or never, thus sending the loudest shout he can into his friend’s mind.

Erik, stop!

Erik looks at Charles in shock.

Erik, now!

Reluctantly, he lets go of Kurt’s legs, unfolding himself slowly, very slowly. His eyes remain on the man towering above him at all times, ready to lunge again if Kurt so much as moves. Charles loves his friend for it, he truly does, but he really wished he didn’t in those situations, because Charles knows what his stepfather is capable of, and there is no way in this world or any other where Charles would let Erik suffer the whims of this man.

Charles can feel Erik mentally protesting when he lifts the fingers of his free hand to his temple and concentrates as best as he can, not liking to either go to that dark place he knows he is headed to or doing what he is about to do.

But for Erik, Charles would do anything, always.

Charles’s hand is slightly shaking as he concentrates, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Erik, but the younger boy ignores it, only ever looks his stepfather right in the eye, leaving the man unable to look anywhere but him, to see anything but him, whereas Charles just sees an abyss behind the man’s eyes.

“I am going with you right now. Nothing happened,” Charles says slowly.

“Nothing happened indeed,” Kurt agrees, his lips moving slowly as he straightens back up, having forgotten those last few seconds, leaving only the dull anger behind for a flight gone wrong.

Charles allows his stepfather to pull him not along but away.

“Bye, Erik,” he calls over his shoulder, offering the most sympathetic grin he can muster.

“I will see you later, Charles.”

Erik never means goodbye. For some reason, Erik never says it to him, instead only ever letting Charles know that they will see each other again.

And in that way, Erik means hello again instead of goodbye for Charles.

——————————

Charles sighs as he sits up in bed, trying to concentrate on the notes he is supposed to have memorized by tomorrow but failing quite miserably. Because when he looks at the page, he sees white clouds and a blue sky, and him and Erik soaring through it.

However, those images don’t last long as the abyss appears again, the one Charles barely moved Erik away from before he could fall into it. And just as fast, the young boy hears voices he doesn’t want to hear, his mind far too open after he had to spread it over him and Erik when they took their first flight. Charles pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to sort through the baritone building up in his ears, wanting to ignore it but finding it incredibly hard tonight.

There is no way he will memorize any of this by morning, that much is for sure.

When his window opens on its own accord, Charles whips his head around. “Erik! You are not supposed to be here! Aren’t you grounded?”

Erik climbs in, the way he does almost daily, perfectly ignoring the protests, which he does nearly just as often.

“Technically, I am still on the ground of the property,” he points out with a smirk.

Charles rolls his eyes as Erik hops into his room and shuts the window again. Erik’s abilities make sure that he can just climb up the rain gutter without any such effort, and of that one thing Charles is fairly sure: One of these days, Erik will know how to fly even without an airplane.

The smile fades from Erik’s lips the moment he looks back at Charles sitting on the bed with the notes in his lap. “Did he do anything to you?”

“He wouldn’t go much further than that,” Charles assures him, adding with a huff, “I am his precious boy, after all.”

Things look differently for his mother, and looked very differently for his stepbrother. Charles can still recall those dark times, sitting propped against the wall, knees drawn up to his chest, listening, feeling everything, as though it was his own skin bruising, tearing at a blow, a kick. It was only ever Erik who saw the marks that weren’t there and rubbed them and stroked them to make Charles feel better again, never telling him that it was just inside his head and that it wasn’t real, understanding that it was real for Charles.

If not for Erik, Charles wouldn’t have found the strength to convince his stepfather to send Cain off to a boarding school instead of continuing the older boy’s torment. And for what it seems, Cain since turned his back on the family, never wishing to return again. Not for holidays, not even for a generic birthday card.

Charles can’t say he terribly misses him, since Cain took the violence his father brought upon him out on Charles, leaving bruises and cuts that anyone could see and that made Erik so furious that he became perfectly quiet. And Charles knows that Erik’s anger is the most dangerous when it is quiet.

Because Erik means calm before the storm.

“I’m sorry for… you know.” Erik taps his index finger against his temple. “I know you don’t like doing it.”

“Because it’s dangerous. I can’t handle it quite well just yet… I just knew he’d hit you next thing. Couldn’t let that happen,” Charles sighs, sitting back down on the bed.

“I’m not that fragile, Charles.”

“That doesn’t mean I want you hurt,” the younger boy argues.

In fact, Charles realized that Erik being hurt feels much worse than him being hurt, because when Erik is suffering, Charles doesn’t just feel Erik’s pain but also the pain he feels for him.

“I don’t want you hurting either,” Erik replies faintly.

“I know. It’s alright. And anyway… today was definitely worth it.” Charles smiles at him, and Erik can’t help but mimic the curve of the lip because yes, this was one of the best days of their lives just yet, no matter how it ended.

Because they flew, they flew for real, and not just inside their heads.

Charles sighs as he draws his knees up to his chest.

“How many?” Erik asks quietly, to which Charles only ever shrugs.

Erik means knowing, too, because he knows Charles in ways no one does, sometimes even better than Charles seems to know himself, and that despite the fact that Erik doesn’t have the ability to look into other people’s heads.

“You’re not mad, Charles. That’s everyone else’s thoughts inside your head, always remember that.”

Erik also means reassurance.

There was a time when Charles thought he was going insane, and he wouldn’t tell anyone, not his mother, not his stepfather, not even Erik. And that even though he normally tells Erik everything.

Erik found out, though, noticed when Charles acted differently during their games and didn’t want to come outside as much as he used to. Charles tried to hide it, but he never did well hiding from Erik. And once Erik knew, he demanded of Charles just this one thing: not to hide that gift and what it came with from him. Charles stuck to that. And when Erik started to hear the song of metal, he didn’t hide it from Charles either. It was an agreement, a promise, which brought them even closer together than they were anyway.

Erik also means that he is going to be alright. Erik always makes sure of it. He assures Charles that the voices are real, yes, but that they aren’t his but those of everyone else. Erik let him hear his own thoughts so Charles would know that yes, this wasn’t just him, and no, Erik wouldn’t abandon him because of it, not ever.

And neither did Charles when Erik started moving metal objects with his mind for the first time.

They promised after all, and you have to keep promises, right?

“They won’t stop shouting, though, the voices, I mean,” Charles moans, leaning his forehead on his knees. “They are very loud tonight.”

“That bad, huh?”

Charles shrugs.

Erik also means worry. He worries about Charles a lot. More often than he’d like to at times. Because Charles can very well handle himself, thank you very much. While he is glad for the support Erik provides, for the kind words, the reassurances, there are those moments that leave him wondering how two years of age apart can make that much of a difference in Erik’s mind.

Because he knows for a fact that, to Erik, those two years make a huge difference.

“Well, I bet it’s been acting up a bit because of earlier,” Erik ponders, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

Charles looks up at him, resting his chin on his knees, offering a small smile. “It’ll pass, I’m sure. It always does. So you needn’t worry.”

“I still do.”

“I know,” Charles exhales. “Nonetheless, I believe you should go back home, Erik. Your mother certainly doesn’t like that.”

“She won’t come into my room before she fixed up breakfast in the morning. She doesn’t know I am here,” the older boy argues.

Charles snorts at that. “Erik, she always knows you are.”

“Oh?”

“You are not that well covering your traces, you’re really not,” Charles informs him.

Erik frowns at that. “Hm. And still she lets me go?”

“For what it seems.”

“See, then there is nothing to worry about with me staying here,” the older boy concludes.

“Unless my stepfather comes in here.”

“I’ll just lock the door and make for the window,” Erik argues. “Like last year, when we had the first snow.”

Erik also means stubbornness, for better or worse. He is particularly stubborn when it comes to protecting Charles and wanting to be right. And since Charles believes himself to be right at least just as often, if not more, they often end up fighting over who is right and who is wrong.

“Fine, then,” Charles sighs, tired of fighting for today, because the voices are growing louder and he would actually much rather sleep than listen to the lady in the neighboring house yelling at her cat because her husband is out drinking with “that bunch of floozies” from the bar in town, seemingly expecting an answer the feline Charles is sure won’t provide it.

“What’s the radio saying?”

“People talk too much to their pets.”

“I suppose they just want someone who doesn’t talk back.” Erik shrugs.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Charles wonders, because the best thing about talking is having someone to talk to and argue with, at least to his mind. He loves talking to Erik most certainly, and even when he gets annoyed at Erik wanting to be right, he would always rather have an argument with him than go on with his studies in silence, only ever hearing ladies shouting at their cats alone.

“I wouldn’t know,” Erik answers. He picks up Charles’s notes and puts them on the bedside table as he kicks off his boots. Then he climbs into bed and pulls Charles along with him so that Charles’s back rests against his chest and the back of his head comfortably sits close to where Erik’s heart is beating at a steady rhythm. The movements are familiar to them both, having grown into a routine over the past years of their friendship. Almost automatically, or at the very least without a conscious thought Charles could pick up, he starts to run his fingers through Charles’s soft curls.

“If he comes in, you will be forever grounded, I hope you know that,” Charles warns him with a smirk, already easing into the comfort only Erik knows how to provide.

“Well, so long I am grounded here, I don’t see any trouble. I have no intention of leaving Westchester in a lifetime,” Erik announces.

“I think you and him have very different definitions of the term ‘being grounded’.”

“And evidently, he is wrong.”

“You just want to be right.”

“I am definitely right when it comes to him.”

“True again,” Charles sighs, wrinkling his nose.

“Forget that all for now, Charles,” Erik then murmurs softly. “Just focus on me.”

Charles smiles as he closes his eyes, sinking into the clear and organized mind of his best friend. Erik always knows how to shut out the voices in his head, leaving only his own soft humming behind. Sometimes Erik sings it but mostly just hums it oh so softly, though he never tells Charles what the words mean. And Charles stopped asking long time because it’s all too soothing, thus reckoning that something so good can be left as it is without trying to take it apart by his thirst for knowledge.

Sometimes, the world is so much clearer when he lets himself be led into a comfortable dark where there is just a soft hum, assuring him that someone is there with him every step of the way. It is the one darkness Charles feels comfortable letting himself be pulled into, because it always leads into Erik’s arms.

And Erik means serenity.

And in his dreams, they always fly together.

And so, simply put, Erik means everything to Charles.

#cherik #charles x erik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #cherik au #pearl harbor au #because I have feels #and I don't know what to do with them #mkay?#also #I am messing with all of the timelines #because yeah #they would chagne each other's history GREATLY #do I know anything about flying?#nope #do I know shit about military?#nope again #do I still obsess about it?#you bet I do

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lowbrowanthro · 5 years

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Maud Wood Park: Forgotten Feminist, Proto-Anthropologist, Bad Bitch

In the summer of 2018, I spent three weeks in the Library of Congress researching twentieth-century women political leaders (think suffragettes, early legislators, etc).

Mostly I skimmed workshop pamphlets and stared, unblinking, at indecipherable handwritten correspondence. But one woman in particular had me rapt.

[Extremely Stefon voice] Maud Wood Park’s story has everything - suffragette drama, a trip around the world, and a secret (second! Post divorce! That scandalous queen!) marriage that *definitely* disappointed her dad.

(Photo from: https://www.radcliffe.harvard.edu/schlesinger-library/collection/papers-maud-wood-park-in-womans-rights-collection)

Born in 1871 in Boston, Maud Wood Park was a no-nonsense activist ahead of her time. I call her “forgotten” even though she’s well-known to scholars of women’s suffrage (NERRRDS), because she’s largely left out of public school lessons featuring big names like Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton. Yet her work as a lobbyist with the National American Woman Suffrage Association and as the first president of the League of Women Voters made her a centrally important figure in the struggle for American women’s suffrage.

(Maud pictured 4th from the right. Photo from: https://www.radcliffe.harvard.edu/schlesinger-library/collection/papers-maud-wood-park-in-womans-rights-collection)

Even more interesting than her activism (lol sorry, women’s rights) was her personal life.

Maud did her own damn thing - she chose not to have children, eschewed religion, traveled around the world without a male escort, and never stopped fighting for women’s rights. She married her first husband after meeting him in college (she went to Radcliffe, A.K.A. ~Lady Harvard~ because She Smart And She Fancy), and then divorced his ass when she was 35. Two years later, she ~secretly~ married Robert “Bob” Hunter Freeman.

(Above: Bob and his bowler hat. Photos from the LoC collections)

Bob was ~an actor~ and theatrical agent (yes Maud, I feel you, who among us has not pined for a sensitive artistic type). They both traveled so often for work that they were never able to officially, publicly settle down and cohabitate. Instead, their marriage remained secret to all but a few close friends, and they met clandestinely in hotel rooms during Maud’s lecture circuits. They also shared a robust (there are SO MANY LETTERS, you guys) correspondence. Many of their letters focus on their interpersonal drama and semi-tempestuous but deeply-loving relationship, and you bet I read all that shit.

They had serious differences and disagreed constantly. Bob gave Maud shit about her temperament and lack of religion, and she gave him shit about his lack of logic.

In the 1915 letter to Bob below, Maud openly and unrepentantly admits to being a stone-cold bitch (my heroine..!), describing herself as “a cold, hard, self-contained, self-centred, ambitious and extremely critical woman.”

(Maud’s a Slytherin. Obvs.)

Maud knows herself. Maud accepts herself. Maud does not care about your feelings.

Bob, on the other hand, was a total Hufflepuff. In the funny 1915 letter below, Maud writes to him about how much her “man-hating” spinster friends love him, seeing him as more of a womanly kindred spirit than a man. Their high praise even inspires her to (grudgingly, poorly... Maud is all of us) embroider Bob’s initials onto some handkerchiefs, even though she “hadn’t done anything of that sort for over 20 years.”

Ah, ~True Love~ :’)

(Above: Maud and Bob, basically)

Maud was an independent thinker, and her lack of religious belief troubled Bob at first. She explained her outlook on life to him in a 1908 letter:

“I feel a sort of responsibility to myself and to others, irrespective of God’s existence or non existence. I think it is the effect of my keen perception of the rights of all other living creatures, black, white or brown, animal as well as human. It explains my passionate democracy and my sense of outrage at the injustices that women have to bear. It does not rest on love of God or recognition of Him; not even on love of men, but rather on the craving of my whole nature for justice. It’s the best thing in me, my only effective weapon against my egoism.”

Clearly, humanist ideals fueled her activism at a time when many involved in social reform movements held beliefs rooted in Christianity.

(Above: the Women’s Christian Temperance Union, for example! Photo from: https://sites.google.com/site/orangewomenstemperanceunion/background-on-women-s-christian-temperance-union)

Maud was also kind of an amateur anthropologist - she traveled around the world to study the conditions of women in various cultures.

Funded by a wealthy sponsor who supported her work for women’s rights, she struck out on a two year journey in 1909 to investigate women’s lives in far-flung locales including Singapore, China, India, Australia and New Zealand, New Guinea, Bhutan, and elsewhere.

(Above, postcard of Chefoo, China, circa 1908, from: https://www.hippostcard.com/listing/street-in-chefoo-china-postcard-c1908/16726374)

Her views reflect the times and an understanding of universal womanhood that’s been deconstructed by postcolonial feminist scholars, but she recognized the importance of cultural differences.

Before women could even vote in the U.S., Maud was going around stressing the need to understand the various ways women lived around the world.

Rather than just exoticizing foreign tropical locales, she described their complexities. Maud talked about the widespread poverty in Chinese villages in the wake of nineteenth-century British imperialism and described India as “huge and enormously complicated” in a February 9th, 1920 letter written on a train from Darjeeling to Calcutta, for example.

She exhibited an anthropological curiosity (even if she lacked a little tact), writing this detailed description to Bob on June 18th, 1909:

“This afternoon I did get off by myself in a rickshaw in a town I never heard of and poked around for an hour in unimaginably dirty and crowded streets. The Yang-tse-Kiang is a beautiful broad river, but almost deserted on the banks except for occasional cities of large towns where the foreign “Concession” is nearly opposite the landing. If we can we get away from the Concession in these places and into the Chinese town, usually enclosed by a wall. There indeed everything is different: muddy, smelly, narrow streets, swarms of men, some children and fewer women, (those who are well-to-do stay in the “Inner Apartment”) endless little dingy restaurants half on the street where the cooking is all in plain sight, ramshackle one-story houses leaning against each other in order to stay up at all. Most foreigners are disgusted and flee as soon as possible, but I enjoy it all and want to go poking up every lane and into every courtyard.”

Maud also recognized the pervasiveness of Western culture way before scholars started theorizing about “globalization.” In 1909, she wrote:

“Fate seems always to pull at my skirts and drag me back to the surroundings of the inescapable West. It’s marvelous how pervasive that is out here in the Orient – the trace of the West. –I begin to believe that there isn’t a village in Asia where you can’t buy bottled waters and find at least one Englishman. I may have to go to central Africa to get the unadulterated East; and even there I suppose I’d find T. Roosevelt or his remains.”

I choose to believe that she would have made a good intersectional feminist activist and anthropologist had she been born a few decades later.

Maud stressed that women deserved freedom above all in both her personal and professional life. She lobbied for women’s rights tirelessly both to legislators and to Bob, who started out skeptical but was eventually won over.

In the 1915 letter below, Bob wishes Maud success and writes that he’s come around in favor of women’s suffrage once and for all, finally convinced “of something which perhaps should always have been obvious, but wasn’t.”

(That’s f***ing right Bob, get it together)

Maud Wood Park - world traveler, legislative expert, and even playwright - was a fierce feminist. She seemed to foreshadow the third-wavers of the future. In a 1912 letter (one of her many extended arguments with Bob), she considered the future of the women’s movement and women’s ultimate place in society:

“I resent so bitterly the arrogance of men who attempt to say that what men want is the measure of what women should be – or the added insult of attempting to interpret Nature or the Creator for women. Certainly if there is any record of what nature intended it is to be found in the powers that she has given women. If a woman has a beautiful voice it seems likely that nature meant her to sing, etc., etc.

The moral of all this is – don’t spend any more time or words or ink in trying to show what women were meant to do. Spend your energy in giving women themselves a chance to show what they were meant to be.”

Amen.

#Maud Wood Park #Feminism #suffrage #women #women's rights #feminist #history #anthropology #research #archives #womens liberation #suffragette #votes for women #romance #star-crossed lovers #herstory #women's history

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touchlotsofbutts · 5 years

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Tay’s fav new artists, songs, albums of 2019; decade favs too <3

Hello friends. I have listened to 20,000 songs this year (#brag). Some of them I have listened to more than once, and some of them are all together on one really good album I like. Here's some lists of the songs, albums, and people who make them that I liked a lot.

For your listening convenience: a Spotify playlist with the artists, songs, and albums in question. One song from each artist, one song from each album: checka me out

5 new artists from (roughly) this year (unordered)

Slayyyter

Slayyyter is the logical conclusion of the early 2000's pop wave, absolutely bubble gum but no longer pulling and punches with its sexual desire. "He wanna get in my guts" indeed.

100 Gecs

I love high energy, I love noise, and I love catchy. Synthesize major electronic musical movements of the last 10 years and then kick that in the dick and you get 100 Gecs.

Stef Chura

A consistent AF album, with great single songs and a slow procession as well, I'm very hyped for more!

Glass Beach

This band is cutting edge, they know a shitton about music, their hour long album feels like it's only 30 minutes, it teleports you away.

Nilüfer Yanya

Clearly someone who is making music with a succinct style and aesthetic, I find it great to see a full album form around (relatively) simple concepts like an imaginary mental health spa.

10 Songs from this year (ordered)

10. "Good News (Ya-Ya Song)" by MUNA

Unexpectedly a smash hit for me, this is such a simple song but something in the melody stirs a deep and warming feeling within me.

9. "Falling Down The Stairs Of Your Smile" by The New Pornographers

New Pornographers always have great singles. Their albums never quite capture the same feeling, and it breaks my heart every time. Still love the band.

8. "Can't Believe The Way We Flow" by James Blake

A many month throwback, this song was a go-to for the whole year. Seemingly forgotten by many (surely not Dave tho), this album and song really showed additional depth for Blake in my eyes.

7. "24" by IDK

Should to DJ Big Fan. This song is fun as fuck and has so many good one-liners. "She says she not a THOT she a nymphooo"

6. "Clarity" by Kim Petras

This song is a guilty pleasure, not because I am ashamed of its content or sound, but because Kim consistently works with Dr. Luke, the fuckhead who absolutely abused Ke$ha. This song absolutely bops though. Oof.

5. "All I Do is Lie" by Stef Chura

A very small sleeper hit for me, and a big regret when I missed Stef playing nearby, but I love the winding and twisting of this song and the simple mantras bouncing back and forth between meanings.

4. "Lark" by Angel Olsen

This song encapsulates all of Angel's album. It's the lead-in to the album, and it truly matches the scope and grandeur.

3. "Stupid Horse" by 100 Gecs

A song so strong I also want to beat the shit out of a jockey. Distill 100 gecs and for me, this song is at the center. High energy, nonsense, and just total fun. I don't feel bad saying I kind of wish all music sounded like this (sometimes).

2. "Jelmore" by Bon Iver

14,115 feet above sea level, I look out to the sweeping arc of the horizon, a cloudy sky blankets the landscape I left behind. Play this song on your rental car speakers when you choose to conquer fear and ascend a towering mountain.

1. "Gretel" by (Sandy) Alex G

I adore the slow fade in, the garbled vocals, the familiar guitar. The garbled mix slowly devolves into a clear message. Alex G has said he never looks up lyrics, that there is an ambiguity to all words in songs. Is that why he sings this with such clear conviction? There's no misinterpretation here: "good people got something to lose."

20 Albums from this year (ordered)

The first ten are great, but I didn't want to blurb for them all!

20. Clarity by Kim Petras

19. MAGDALENE by FKA Twigs

18. Midnight by Stef Chura

17. Miss Universe by Nilüfer Yanya

16. Dedicated by Carly Rae Jepsen

15. Two Hands by Big Thief

14. Assume Form by James Blake

13. basking in the glow by oso oso

12. Why Hasn't Everything Already Disappeared? by Deerhunter

11. Pang by Caroline Polachek

10. Animated Violence Mild by Blanck Mass

I became stuck in place while listening to Blanck Mass on a plane this summer. One of the only albums I downloaded, it was all I had at 30,000 feet, thrumming engines piercing all the other music I had handy. The cacophony only added to this album, noise layered on noise but turning into melodies and stretching into songs.

9. Father of the Bride by Vampire Weekend

I don't know a ton about jam bands, but I definitely feel it when everyone else says this album was made in hopes of becoming one. This long ass album has some great highs, some charming lows, and honestly a really good chunk of Danielle Haim. Really a soundtrack to 2019 in a lot of ways. But it's really fuckin' long.

8. IGOR by Tyler, the Creator

Tyler's career has had the craziest arc. Rapping about killing women and progressing all the way to IGOR, which, is it even a rap album? The album contains such clear direction and vision, and far less of the reckless anger that Tyler became known for. The energy and sound has been honed down to a fine point, and there's a conciseness that sticks with you for hours after listening.

7. House of Sugar by (Sandy) Alex G

Alex G has always done so much for me. Bedroom music that has transformed each time into bigger and more detailed versions of itself. House of Sugar is no exception. While maybe a little less thrilling for me than Rocket, it's another evolution of this stripped down style, still laid bare but richer all the same.

6. U.F.O.F. by Big Thief

A lot of lists are going to feature some Big Thief. Big Thief is good, their music pierces you through the flesh and hits you in the bones. It stirs the spirit of a time now lost, sidelong glances through thickets of woodsy pines, listening to a friend play a simple song on their new guitar. It's great to celebrate a band and an album that puts a lot of pretense to bed and creates a simple, pleasing experience.

5. Charli by Charli XCX

Charli delivers an album after years of PC Music collaborated mix tapes and psuedo-album releases. Charli isn't some sort of second coming, but is the pinnacle of her expertise: fantastic collaborations, cutting edge beats, and familiar tales of her love and loss.

4. All Mirrors by Angel Olsen

Angel wasn't really known for her grandeur. Her songs and albums were dynamic, sure, with strong emotions, but All Mirrors dives into the direction of a grand pool, crystal clear and vast. "Lark" is a sweeping masterpiece, while "All Mirrors" has a methodical build and release. Angel is fully putting her voice and composition to work with an album this magnificent.

3. the first glass beach album by Glass Beach

My favorite description for this band is "post-emo." Many of my compatriots are not fond of band genres in generally, but for me this really nails it. It's a combination of an emotional, DIY scene with an online mentality, which I feel is representing the pace of the world. Also the music absolutely blasts, grand and epic and quiet and pensive, meandering as it wants.

2. Ghosteen by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

Until about two months ago, I wasn't even a huge Nick Cave fan. Serendipitously, I happened to look into his backlog a couple weeks before this surpirse release. I spent a small amount of time looking into his older style, but when Ghosteen popped up, it floored me. That tangible loss, the grief that winds around you and grips you from within, it's on this album in full force. It's an album I know I will listen to sparingly, but lovingly, for ages and ages.

1. 1000 Gecs by 100 Gecs

I typically do not measure these kinds of lists by the number of listens. Usually albums with emotional weight or impact are not so accessible or listenable. This album is an absolute exception, it is crystalline and pure, it is powerful and subtle, its energy infectious. For me, it's a clear message describing the future of music I love.

Honorable menties, not conclusive or ordered, from this year:

Albums:

IDK's Is He Real?

Holly Herndon's PROTO

JPEGMAFIA's All My Heroes Are Cornballs

Battles's Juice B Crypts

Bon Iver's i,i

American Football's American Football (LP3)

DIIV's Deceiver

Anamanguchi's [USA]

Sir Babygirl's Crush on Me

Sharon Van Etten's Remind Me Tomorrow

Hemlock Ernst & Kenny Segal's Back At The House

Jay Som's Anak Ko

Florist's Emily Alone

Songs:

"Harmony Hall" by Vampire Weekend

"Superbike" by Jay Som

"Aute Cuture" by ROSALÍA

Many many others!

Roughly 10 of 2010-2019's best albums (unordered)

Halcyon Digest by Deerhunter

Encapsulate all of the indie rock I listened to and make it so dramatic it oozes lackadaisical energy.

The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do by Fiona Apple

The title is as long as the album is great. I am chomping at the bit for Fiona to follow this up with literally anything.

Carrie & Lowell by Sufjan Stevens

Many feel Sufjan could do no wrong, but it's not that he's unimpeachable, it's that he is able to shift his sound in pivotal ways at pivotal moments.

Cerulean Salt by Waxahatchee

Waxahatchee captured the post college ennui I was so suddenly thrust into, and continues to kick ass even after I got over the dread.

Allelujah! Don't Bend! Ascend! by Godspeed You! Black Emperor

This album kicks ass, but also I have an undying emotional connection to it since I listened to it on repeat the months after pops died! "We Drift Like Worried Fire" is entwined in my soul.

Good Kid, M.A.A.D City by Kendrick Lamar

There is a lot of great Kendrick to choose from, but the one absolutely stacked with bangers will remain my favorite (but I totally acknowledge the artistic merit and beyond of Damn. and TPAB).

The Monitor by Titus Andronicus

I only got into this album like four years after the fact, but it scratched the civil-war-concept-album-actually-about-the-Northeast I didn't know I had! Pumped it also taught me a cool Abe Lincoln speech.

E•MO•TION by Carly Rae Jepsen

This album guided me from toeing around pop music to going all in and finally have a good time in life.

Song of the summer:

"Steal My Sunshine" by Len

Remarkably, for the 20th year in a row, the song of the summer is Len's "Steal My Sunshine." What a powerhouse.

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finsterhund · 5 years

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Service dogs “are not here to serve us” rebuttal

Hardcore vegans are known for hypocritical stances such as forcing domesticated obligate carnivores to eat vegan food, thinking sheep don’t need to be sheared, and turning a blind eye to the fact that many animal-free products from developing countries only come over to North America because of unfair treatment of workers. Recently the spying algorithm of my google phone sent an article my way that highlighted some animal rights organization’s preposterous instagram post against service dogs.

The post reads as follows:

The default position of veganism is to reject the use of non-human animals. This includes ALL uses, including service animals.

The key word here is “use.” They are not, and never were, here for us to use. Non-human animals owe us absolutely nothing.

Yet some believe humans do have the right to have certain animals and individuals serve us; therefore, they domesticate them for this purpose. But domestication does not involve consent by all those involved, and there is unequal power in the relationship. Just because individuals CAN be trained to serve us does not mean that they SHOULD.

When we adopt non-humans as our companions, we can save them from further exploitation. To continue to use them as tools for human purposes after adoption goes wholly against vegan principles. Therefore, we remain opposed to the use of animals (such as dogs) for human service, even if the animals were NOT bought from a breeder.

Service dogs and the like are still a WANT and not a need. And regardless of treatment, the use of any animal for service promotes the idea that animals are here to work for humans rather than to exist in their own right as individuals.

If we haven’t already made the point clear, under no circumstances should ANY non-human be used at the hands of humans.

Let it be known. I used to be a hardcore ARA back in the day, and I still have strong opinions for animal welfare. I am notably however, not inherently opposed to humans consuming meat, as we are opportunist omnivores so while we should be working towards humane and sustainable food sources, I think we should still be allowed to evolve out of eating meat at our own pace as a species if we are going to abandon it altogether. Forcing an animal to conform to a dietary restriction they don’t in nature is inhumane, and humans are animals. I also do not believe in full on animal rights. The difference “rights” have as oppose to “welfare” are basically concerning things like body rights, personhood, etc. I do believe in implementing animal rights under certain situations and contexts however, and this does involve dogs. I might touch up on this at a later date.

The relationship the human species has with the domestic dog is unheard of on the same level in any other lifeform on Earth. Tarantulas are known to keep tiny frogs as pets, and we have certainly domesticated many other animals, but a symbiotic relationship as in-tune as humans have with dogs is currently unparalleled. There are many factors that go into this. I for one think that cats are fully capable of developing similar bonds if we didn't normalize letting them run outside unsupervised for days at a time and intermingle with feral colonies, but that’s neither here nor there. Dogs had a head start, and a key factor was that unlike cats, their ancestors shared a similar ecological niche to humans, had nearly identical social structures, and lived in extremely tight-knit familial groups like we did. These similarities would put the perfect ground work in place. There are fossil records that indicated that early man cared a lot for their sick or injured family members, with individuals who wouldn't have been able to have offered anything of working value to their family for the entirety of their lives, based on the state of their injuries were cared for far past when they would have otherwise survived if left to struggle. This behavior is also seen in domestic dogs and their wild relatives. Note: the whole “alpha male” thing were unfounded studies that turns out were done on extremely stressed individuals forced to cohabitate with strangers in captivity and aren't valid.

Dogs have evolved to eat the same food that we do, we significantly changed and altered their physical bodies so they’d be suited to a whole variety of different roles in our society, dogs have evolved to have more specialized eyebrows so that they can better physically communicate with us, and some new studies in their early stages even suggest that we may even have some sort of a proto-psychic bond with dogs. Or in the very least they have evolved to be extremely aware of our feelings based on tiny facial expressions or specific scents. Still no small feat. Particularly sharp breeds mimic human speech based on vocalizations they associate with excitement or praise. Dogs can understand specific words and tones of voice in our language, follow our line of gaze and direction indicated by hand gesture, and generally have cognitive abilities akin to a five-year-old. Dogs are known to empathize with us when we express negative emotions and are well documented for pining for deceased human family members and waiting for them for the remainder of their own lives. Dogs do not understand the concept of death, but they understand the concept of losing us. While there are many animals conventionally smarter than dogs, this bond cannot be replicated to the same extent with them. To a dog, their human is family. To be protected at all cost. Dogs LOVE us. And it’s a pure unconditional love. Flawed only in how innocent a dog is. Unable to understand concepts like good and evil. This is extremely serious. I cannot stress how one-in-a-million, incredible, sacred, and rare what happened between us and dogs is. It’s the most beautiful thing to me that exists on planet Earth. It’s one of the only things that makes me think the universe is more than just cold and unfeeling. If there is anything that could be possibly used as proof of a higher power in this universe it’d be this. Of all the things left up to chance in this universe, humans and dogs found each other. Anyways, sorry to go off. It’s just something I’m extremely passionate about.

The point I’m making of course, is that dogs are just short of actually being members of our own species, and having a service dog is basically the same thing as asking your kindergartner to get the newspaper or pick up the TV remote you accidentally dropped.

In fact, for many service dogs the tasks they’re trained to perform aren't just basically things like those examples, they’re literally things like those examples.

So lets get some misconceptions out of the way:

“Dogs don’t like working”

Dogs love making us happy. They love helping us. They feel accomplished when they have a participating role in our lives. Especially true for working breeds, it’s actually recommended that dogs get some form of training or work exercise as part of a daily or weekly routine for their own mental enrichment. As well as exercise. All breeds generally associated with service dog and guide dog work have extensive histories of performing tasks for humans. And they love doing it! Retriever breeds are literally named after the fact that they came along to retrieve downed prey animals for their humans. This is basically “fetch” with a purpose. And fetch is the most well-known way we play with our dogs in existence. Retrievers are a popular choice for service dogs because their selectively bred “gentle mouth” and retrieving instincts make them the perfect candidate for a pupper who picks up things you dropped, and can bring you a pill bottle, phone, or emergency pager in a pinch. Dogs who also have the body strength for it get exercise and mental enrichment from performing tasks like balance assist. Just like how sled dogs LOVE sledding. Once again, you've likely heard cases of maltreated sled dogs, but the possibility for being exploited doesn't change the fact that if it’s responsibly managed, these dogs enjoy this line of work. In fact, if you have a sled dog and they don’t get to exert themselves physically, often times by needing far more walks and play, they’re going to be bored and miserable. The dog likes and wants to do these things for us. We just have a responsibility to make sure it’s not hurting them. A person can enjoy their job, and it’s only if something happens like they’re not making a living wage that it becomes exploitative. Dogs are the same. So long as they enjoy what they’re doing and it’s not causing them any issues, they’re probably going to have even more enriched lives for doing it!

“Training is abusive”

Proper training is positive reinforcement. There’s some idiots who think that physically punishing a dog is a good form of training, and I’d like to recommend them this to read. Service tasks pretty much MUST be trained with positive reinforcement. In order to encourage them to perform these tasks. Not only that, but training is a form of mental enrichment. Every dog, regardless of whether they’re a family pet or a working animal should have some form of obedience training. It’s good for them! They feel accomplished. It’s a fun bonding activity to do for a few minutes a day. It is possible for a dog to “burn out” (trained too hard too fast resulting in frustration and giving up) or “wash out” (when interactions are inconsistent, leading the dog to be confused and not behave as indicated) so there are incentives in place to ensure that training is well-paced, moderate, and isn't frustrating to the dog. Proper, positive, and well-paced training is a perfect way to add a healthy routine to a dog’s life and strengthen their bond with you. It’s enriching. In the same way that a crossword puzzle on your commute to work is to you. Dogs like making us happy, they like challenge, and they like accomplishments.

“Dogs aren't consenting to the tasks they are performing”

Remember when I said how routine and doing things to make us happy strengthen our dog’s bond and enrich their lives? Remember how I said that many tasks dogs are trained to do are basically playing but with a purpose? Remember how I said that training for service work is entirely positive reinforcement and dogs are incentively encouraged to do their tasks? This is where animal rights vs animal welfare comes in. The notion that animals should have the exact same rights of personhood that humans have is what the angle these people are going with is reflecting. They see dogs being “tricked” to do things. As them being exploited. Even though these things are fun and enriching for dogs. If a task is something the dog can naturally do, and willingly wants to do, or wants to do to show us they care, they are consenting to it. If I really like my friend’s character so I draw them gift art am I being exploited because they’re getting free art? No.

“Service work is harming the dog”

There are situations where a task could be unfit for a particular breed: ie a lean, thin dog who isn't equipped for pulling being made to do a related task, but this is a problem in an individual situation, one that trainers would look into extensively. A happy and healthy service dog is a service dog who is also ensuring their handler is happy and healthy. There’s no reason that somebody would force a dog to perform a task they physically can’t do, because that would just make life hard on both dog and handler. Professional trainers and laws being put in place are also strongly against this sort of thing. We have publicly available guides all over the place to explain which dogs may not be suited for service work based on temperament or size. It ultimately comes down to the individual, like every situation involving neglect or cruelty. Other issues such as not having your dog wear shoes when they spend a lot of time walking on hot pavement, not ensuring your dog has access to cleanliness, food, and medicine, etc. are not issues exclusive to service dogs. They’re issues for dog husbandry in general. Training organizations and certain parts of the world (Like BC!) will pretty much ensure that the dog is at peak health, or they’re taken back. In BC service dogs must look healthy and clean, pass health examinations from a vet, be up to date with shots, and be sterilized. Otherwise they can’t be a service dog. That’s stricter laws than the ones in place for pet dogs. In this situation a service dog has more protections towards their quality of life than a pet dog does.

Now lets dissect the instagram post point by point:

The default position of veganism is to reject the use of non-human animals. This includes ALL uses, including service animals.

1. note how they say “non-human animals” because veganism loves to kick issues with farmers in developing countries under the rug as I previously explained. 2. INTERSECTIONALITY! Humans ARE animals. You should care about the wellbeing of all animals and nature. This includes humans, especially humans being exploited to provide food. 3. I’m also disgusted by their (repeated) claim that service animals are “used.” As if my massive explanation that dogs do this because they love us isn't pretty obvious if you've spent any portion of your life with a dog.

The key word here is “use.” They are not, and never were, here for us to use. Non-human animals owe us absolutely nothing.

AGAIN WITH THE “USE” I’m about to bite you. I suppose if a child wants their parent to read to them or hug them the parent is also being USED? Dogs don’t owe us anything. Yes. 100% agree. They aren't being forced to do these things because we feel they owe us. They WANT to do things for us. Out of the goodness of their hearts. Because they feel accomplished. Because it enriches their lives. Because they LOVE us. Damn it.

Yes, it is pretty unfair that many animals were domesticated for our use. But I’m gonna explain it as gently as I can; dogs and humans have a symbiotic relationship. Domestication, like with cats, started out as an accident. Then we started providing for each other. Here we see the consent thing. (refer to my “dogs don’t consent to service tasks” rebuttal. The term “service” IMO is outdated. They’re not serving us like slaves, they’re aiding us like you’d help a loved one who needs your help. And again, training is ENRICHING for dogs. It’s fun. it helps them feel accomplished. It stops them from being bored. If a dog wasn't consenting to being trained they would burn out.

For someone keen on arguing for the rights of dogs you really are just going to refer to their role in our lives as “tools” huh? A symbiotic relationship where a dog does nice things because we let them know that we’d want them to isn't them being a tool. It’s them showing us compassion and caring for their family. Also LMAO at the breeder part. Comes out of left field.

“A WANT and not a need” oh my god. Fuck you. Living with a dog should be a human right, and living with a human should be a dog right. We exist because of each other, we are made for each other. Our evolution was influenced by each other. There are people who’s lives are made infinitely more livable because of the compassion and care their dog gives them, even if they’re not doing tasks. Dogs pretty much need humans in their lives to have quality of life. I’ll give you a hint. Dogs do exist in their own right as individuals. Individuals who bond with and show their love for their families by doing nice things for them. Why the hell is this so hard for you to understand? Dogs derive enjoyment and accomplishment from the symbiotic relationships we share. Not only that, but based on this instagram post I’d say dogs also have significantly more empathy for others than you do (to be honest I think that’s the case 90% of the time when it comes to humans), because they can understand helping someone out of the goodness of their hearts but you don’t.

If we haven’t already made the point clear, under no circumstances should ANY non-human be used at the hands of humans.

USED USED USED. If you’re so bent out of shape about this why don’t you just rally against keeping dogs as pets in the first place? (some of these people are. I've seen it) I mean, a symbiotic relationship with any sort of power imbalance is in and of itself “use” by your definition.

Reading this instagram post I’m genuinely concerned if this person has ever been in the same room as a dog before. It’s just really insulting.

Growing up as an abuse survivor, all the dogs I lived with were so empathetic. They knew I needed someone to comfort me, to keep me safe, to let me know everything was going to be okay. They knew. The amount of information that could be transfered between our gazes was astronomical. A dog wouldn't come to you in your darkest hour, when you've beginning to lose your voice from how hard you've been crying, and stay with you for hours on end if they didn't love you. Love is about doing things for each other. Willing sacrifice. Empathy and compassion. If you teach a dog ways that they can help you even further, of course they’re going to want to do that. No matter how messed up and grim our society becomes we’ll always be there for each other. It’s the only constant we know. Humans have an obligation to protect this sacred bond but the fact that some people are so convinced of shit like this is just heartrending. Dogs want to do things for us just as much as we should want to do things for them. And when many of these things bring enrichment to their lives, there really isn't a reason not to let them and help them understand a little better.

In conclusion:

#text post #long post #negative #rant #I'm legitimately gutted that these people exist #service dogs

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codydcampbell1 · 5 years

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“She woke up, and there was a glow.”

This is the first line in Brian Lee O’Malley’s 2014 graphic novel, “Seconds.” The protagonist, Katie, groggily opens her eyes and stares at the ceiling for a moment, disoriented, before realizing that something strange is going on. You can see the first sparks of awareness slowly building into curiosity and alarm, as both she and the reader realize that something out of the ordinary is happening. Then you turn the page, and find a small, unusual looking girl squatting on her dresser. There is no dialogue, only the exchange of panicked expressions as these two notice each other for the first time.

As the author of the Scott Pilgrim series, this isn’t the first time that O’Malley has played with disorientation, confusion and distraction in the perspectives of his characters. He likes the unreliable narrator because he can use them to show us how we lie to ourselves and how our perspectives are often distorted when we are tired, drunk, ashamed or simply not paying attention. We all see ourselves as the narrators of our own stories and many of us “self edit,” either choosing to look at the choices we’ve made from a perspective that makes us look good, or else punishing ourselves by blowing mistakes out of proportion.

Check out these two scenes from Scott Pilgrim. The first is from Volume 2, “Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World.”

This depicts the way Scott remembers battling Simon Lee, a villainous boy from a rival school who had kidnapped Scott’s then friend, Kim Pine, and held her hostage. Now compare it to the way Kim tells the same story in Volume 6, “Scott Pilgrim’s Finest Hour.”

Simon wasn’t the villain Scott wanted him to be. He was actually Kim’s boyfriend at the time and hadn’t done anything wrong. Scott was the aggressor. He then rewrote the story in his mind in order to cast himself as the hero. He needed to be able to think in these terms in order to cope with the guilt because at his core, Scott doesn’t want to be a bad person.

“Seconds” takes this kind of narrative introspection in a slightly different direction however. Instead of focusing on guilt as the main aspect of Katie’s “self editing,” it focuses on regret. That might seem like splitting hairs since guilt can be considered a form of regret, but it’s kind of like how all pinkies are fingers, but not all fingers are pinkies. Katie’s life is a tangled web of missed opportunities, mistakes, and a general sense that she doesn’t feel like she’s living up to her own potential.

Then she’s confronted with something that we’ve all wished for at one point or another, the opportunity for a “re-do.”

At this point I’m going to stop and let everyone know that there are going to be some spoilers ahead. I’m going to try my best to avoid anything that I feel would ruin the story, but you should stop reading now if you haven’t read “Seconds” and want to go into it with a completely blank slate.

OK, everyone want to keep reading? Good!

So here’s a brief overview of the premise.

Katie and a group of friends opened a restaurant called “Seconds” a few years before the story begins. She was the Chef and her food put Seconds on the map, but she wasn’t one of the owners, so it was never really hers. Now she’s finally purchased her dream location, an old rundown building that she plans to convert into a new restaurant and rebrand “Katie’s.” She’s very excited about her new place, but the renovations keep taking longer and costing more than she’d originally anticipated. This leaves Katie in an awkward sort of limbo between major career shifts. On the one hand, her new place isn’t open yet and so she can’t start working on her new menu or serving customers. On the other, she’s already trained the new Chef to replace her at Seconds, so she doesn’t really have a place in the world.

This is also reflected in how Katie feels about her age.

For a lot of Millennials, our 20s are viewed as a sort of proto-adulthood. It’s a time of experimentation, where it’s OK to not feel like you know you’re life-path. It’s OK to rent a tiny apartment, stay in bed streaming television on your days off and dress like you’re in high school. It’s ok to still call your parents for help with simple things every once in a while, like not knowing how to fix a clogged sink or pay an electric bill. It’s OK to be working a job that pays your rent with a little left over to buy video games or to break up with a long term romantic partner and see what else is out there. You don’t need to have everything together yet. You have time.

30 is a different animal.

I’m not saying this is true at all. Lord knows everyone’s circumstances are different. It takes some of us a lot longer than others to discover our purpose in the world, and still others never do. Arbitrary age limits like this don’t really mean anything, but there is a social pressure that says when you hit the big 3-0, this is where you’re supposed to be a real, honest-to-god, adult now.

Katie denies it, but this sort of terminal anxiety is at the heart of her character. She’s terrified of the incoming change, terrified of the passage of time and fixated on her regrets of everything that brought her to this point.

Enter Lis.

Lis is a house spirit, the embodiment of Seconds, and everything that has ever happened there. (Think Ghost of Christmas Past meets Fairy Godmother.) When an accident happens in the kitchen, Lis offers Katie a mushroom that will allow her to re-write one of her past mistakes, giving her a second chance. (Seconds! Get it?) This works out well enough, with only some mild side effects, but then Katie uncovers a whole bunch of the mushrooms growing in Seconds’ basement. Despite Lis’s warnings, Katie proceeds to go back and rewrite bigger and bigger events in her own past, trying to perfect her present, but the more she goes back, the more things start to change in unexpected ways.

I won’t go into the details, but the story illustrates brilliantly how doing things differently will still result in just as many unexpected consequences as the way we did them the first time, sometimes causing new problems and new mistakes that you couldn’t have anticipated. It shows us how spending too much time and energy reflecting on how we got to where we are can be detrimental to crafting our future.

You can learn from your past and grow, but only if you accept your mistakes for what they are… a part of you.

None of this even touches on the adorable and energetically drawn panels, the thoughtfully crafted and deeply expressive characters or the hilariously written dialogue. I could honestly write three or four more blogs just as long as this one on all the other things that make this book great.

In case you couldn’t guess by now, I heartily recommend you give this story a try. It’s cute, funny, smart, thoughtful and nearly every other positive adjective that I’m not clever enough to list without a thesaurus. It’s also considerably shorter than the Scott Pilgrim series at only one volume, so it’s a great way for you to dip your toe into O’Malley’s work if you’re looking to give it a shot, but aren’t sure if you want to commit to starting a six volume series.

But I’m curious to hear what you think. I hope those of you who’ve already read it will leave a comment and let me know your opinions… and I hope those of you who haven’t will let me know if this is the sort of thing that you’d be willing to give a shot.

This is also a new format for my blog, so I’d appreciate any feedback on whether you’d like to see more of these kinds of reviews in the future.

Thanks for reading everyone,

-Cody For other reviews like this one, check out my website at: codydcampbell.com

#comics #graphicnovel #review #scott pilgrim #seconds #brian lee o'malley #unreliable narrator #blog

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prettylittlecostumers · 6 years

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Tolkien Week day 01: My Top Five Wishlist for Amazon’s LOTR Series.

I have written about it back in June, but it’s Tolkien Week so I just HAD to go back to it. There are no news yet. Amazon seems to be planning to film in NZ to keep a visual link with PJ’s oeuvre, and that’s all we know for now. But here’s what I would like to see, just in case they really go with the Young Aragorn idea. And just in case Amazon’s listening to my pining and sighing... After all, it is my favorite fandom, and I still wanna keep my hopes up that after all the talking is done we’ll have a good (and long) series to watch. Just in case you’re wondering, I’ve arranged my wishes chronologically and not according to what I want the most. But I’m a Faramir fan, so I guess you’ll get what I want the most. Here we go:

1 - Aragorn and Arwen fall in love.

Wouldn’t it be nice to follow all the comings and goings on that one? I’d love to see how Arwen telling Aragorn to grow up shaped him into the travel-hardened ranger that eventually became king. And into a man she could actually love, and leave her family and immortality behind for.

2 - Aragorn in Rohan:

Théoden remembered Aragorn even though he was a child at the time. Wouldn’t it be lovely to see that? They could give us some Rohan politics background with the evil times of Fengel King, Morwen and Thengel’s wedding in Gondor and her reception in court in Edoras. Their children. And they could easily develop into the near future with Théoden as an adult before he fell into Gríma’s spell, the doomed love of Éomund of Eastfold and Théodwyn of Rohan, their own children as young children and Théodred as a young man, and maybe, maybe... The Fords of the Isen?

3 - Aragorn as Thorongil:

This is a direct consequence of the one above. In his travels, Aragorn goes to Gondor, which is hinted in the Movie Trilogy.

I’d love to see that, and all that comes from that: a young and not mad yet Denethor, who like his son Faramir strives for his father’s favor. Ecthelion’s stewardship. Finduilas of Dol Amroth, who, in the appendices, seems to have been the one light in Denethor’s life. Her brother Imrahil of Dol Amroth as a young pirate on the Umbarian Campaign. Imrahil’s family. Boromir as a small child. Faramir as a baby in the end. I get all the feels just to imagine all this!

2 - Aragorn in Harad and Khand:

It would take us into unexplored territory, show the growth of Sauron and the circumstances in which it happened in these places, and it’s also a very good chance to show that not everyone in these places was evil or ill-intended or misguided. It adds variety and depth to Middle-Earth as a whole. There’s also the potential danger of a quasi-fascist major screw up in which everybody hates Gondor, so I don’t know if this is a dream or a proto-nightmare. It has potential to be both.

1 - The Hunt for Gollum and the Attack on Osgiliath on T.A. 3018:

These two events lie at the end of the line for a Young Aragorn timeline, as they both border the WOTR. Aragorn pursues across all of Middle-Earth - which is a good chance for all of us to catch a glimpse of “what’s changed” since he was a young man and passed through the first time around. Also, when Aragorn chases Gollum into Ithilien, Faramir would already be there, serving as a Ranger, or - most likely IMO - already as the captain whom his men would follow “under the wings of Shadow”. I wonder at the effects of an anonymous chance meeting in the wild, and their possible relation with “You called, I come, What does the king command?” in the Houses of Healing. It is said Faramir could read into hearts and minds just like his old man. So he would surely grasp much more than anything Aragorn would tell him.

Also, the attack on Osgiliath is related to Aragorn’s chase because after he loses Gollum to the orcs, Sauron gets all the info he needs out of Gollum and sends the Nine to the Shire. And they are only able to pass North after the attack, right after it if memory serves me, while the four survivors of the bridge were swimming for their lives in chainmail. And both happenings would give us all something I terribly wish to see: Faramir as he was in the books. A smart man of swift judgement, as good a captain as his brother, and most of all, fair and not in such need of fatherly approval to the point of throwing his convictions out the window for a pat in the head. The man who would stand up to his liege lord - and father - later on because he did the right thing, and was condemned to a suicide mission for it. The man who’s worthy of Éowyn’s affection, and Aragorn’s trust.

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green-spear-of-causality · 5 years

Note

For the OTP Drabbles Ask thing. 21- Proto-Cu and Robin Hood

- And so it begins.

I hope you enjoy, @oddnub!

21. "Jinx, you owe me a coke." *Can't speak until they buy the other a soda*

Proto Cú's Luck was as abysmal as ever.

First, he woke up and fell off the bed. After untangling himself from his blankets, he padded towards Chaldea's mess hall only to accidentally bump into Gilgamesh -- yes, the one from his older self's Grail War. The Gold Archer then proceeded to mock him, pointing out his messy hair (that was hastily put into its ponytail, give him a break it's his day off - ) as well as his clumsy footing while laughing in that condescending way of his. Proto Cú hurried around him to grab a bite to eat, only to slip in the remnants of last night's Food War and fall face-first into a pile of molding cheese. Gilgamesh howled with laughter, and Proto Cú felt his cheeks burn as he stood up and went to the sink to wash his face off.

He didn't think it could get any worse than this.

"Yo."

Proto Cú whipped his head around to see Robin Hood wave to him, the Green Archer situating himself on one of the very few untouched seats. All the others had some form of ketchup, eggs, or relish on them (Nobu knew how to utterly vandalize a place).

"Yo..." Proto Cú sighed out, wiping his face off on a dish towel. Robin's mouth quirked in amusement at seeing the Lancer's miserable face, eyebrow raised in concern.

"You look awful. What happened?"

"Goldie happened."

"Ah." Robin tilted his head towards him in sympathy, and Proto Cú felt a wave of gratitude for the Archer. Ever since they met, they hit it off almost instantly. It was similar to how his and Emiya's friendship worked, actually; the main difference was that he apparently shared a single brain cell with Robin, considering the amount of memes they casually throw at each other.

Another thing they shared was their love of pranks. Proto Cú had waited until he felt that their friendship was on a more secure level to hide Robin's cloak (it...actually smelled pretty nice) underneath Alter's mattress. He did it with permission from the Berserker, of course; he didn't have a death wish. He then got to watch with amusement as Robin sent him a withering glare for the rest of the first day, the May King scurrying around Chaldea and asking numerous Servants if they've seen his cloak. The Archer eventually found it a week later, looking like he fought four lions to get to it and flipping Proto Cú the bird once they saw each other again.

"I won't forget this," He had declared. Proto Cú remembered waving him off, too busy wheezing as he took pictures of Robin for future blackmail to really consider the implications.

And now, he wishes that he had. Proto Cú wasn't an idiot; he'd get his due eventually from him. The questions were when, and how.

Actually... Proto Cú frowned. "What are you doing up this early? You're usually walking around in another hour or so."

"Can't a Servant change their schedule up a bit?" Robin said innocuously, and immediately warning bells were ringing in Proto Cú's head. Robin prided himself on the amount of sleep he got; while Proto Cú rose with the sun, the May King waited until it was nearly all the way up in the sky to even consider moving.

Crimson eyes narrowed. "Uh-huh."

Robin snorted in laughter at his suspicion. "Nevermind that; let's eat some breakfast!"

"Like what?" Proto Cú asked as he grabbed some dish soap and a sponge, wiping down the seat next to Robin and drying it off before sitting down.

Robin looked around, stopping his search as his eyes landed on something. "Well, we'll just ask the Red Archer himself."

Proto Cú followed Robin's line of sight to the dual-wielding Archer, who scrunched his nose up at the sight of the destroyed mess hall. The Lancer lifted his hand and waved to him, calling out. "Yo, Archer! Do you know what's for breakfast?"

"I was going to try my hand at a Western-styled dish," The Counter Guardian began, making his way over to them, "But it seems that it will have to wait until a new shipment arrives. The only thing left should be the leftovers from yesterday..."

The Red Archer stepped into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a plate of dumplings. Robin and Proto Cú stared; they knew that it was enough food to fill one Servant, not two.

Silence. Then,

"Gimme that bitch!"

"You better STOP! STOOOOP!!"

Emiya grunted as the two Servants pushed each other out of the way to reach for the plate, the taller Archer holding it over his head as they jumped for it. They were arguing all the while, and slowly he was developing a headache because of it.

"Let me at least set down the goddamn plate first or so help me I'll - "

He didn't finish. He didn't need to; Robin and Proto Cú stilled, drawing back and looking at him.

They spoke in perfect unison, seeming to sing the two words. "...You're angry."

Emiya blinked. The duo locked eyes with each other, shouting in tandem. "JINX! DOUBLE JINX!"

Robin then kicked Proto Cú's shin hard, making the blue-haired Servant double over in pain. He grabbed the plate of dumplings, Emiya letting him with a sigh as he dropped back into his seat to eat.

Proto Cú could hear the smugness in his voice. "Triple jinx. You owe me a coke."

"Son of a bitch!" Proto Cú cried out, Emiya sending him The Look as Jack and Nursery Rhyme chose that time to enter the mess hall themselves. The Lancer couldn't believe that he fell for it; Robin was known for playing dirty when it was required, and he's seen him do it numerous times to their enemies.

"You know the rules." Robin sing-songed, and Proto Cú gritted his teeth. He then mimed drinking a bottle, favoring his injured shin as he all but ran out of the room.

Emiya turned to Robin, anger forgotten as curiosity took over. "Mind explaining that?"

"He's jinxed." Robin stated matter-of-factly, taking a bite out of another dumpling and humming in content. Emiya didn't even know that he liked cold dumplings. "He can't talk until he gets me a soda. Specifically, Coca-Cola."

An ominous smile stretched across his face. "Little does he know that I've hidden all of the Coca-Cola Chaldea has in the last place he'd ever think to look."

Emiya blanched. He then paled in horror, eyes wide with disbelief. "...You didn't."

Robin cackled. "I did."

"But - That's - "

"Suicide?" Robin poked a dumpling absentmindedly. "Well...he should've thought about that before stealing my cloak and putting it in Alter's room."

"This is an entirely different manner of beast we're discussing here, Robin." Emiya stressed, resting his hands on the (thankfully clean) counter. "You know what she can do, especially considering it's him - "

"He'll be fine." Robin said, a little bit too forcefully, and Emiya could see that he was trying to reassure himself. The May King grimaced, no longer finding the situation as amusing as he had beforehand.

"...He has to be."

--------

Goddamn smug Archer with his goddamn kicks - ! Proto Cú seethed, unable to voice his frustrations out loud as he made his way over to Da Vinci's Workshop. He couldn't believe that he fell for the oldest trick in the book; hell, he should've expected it!

He threw the door open, startling Da Vinci. The genius let out a breath, body sagging in relief.

"Oh, it's just you, Proto...I thought you were Romani for a second. What can I do for you?"

Where can I get some damn Coca-Cola? Proto Cú almost said that out loud, but he remembered Robin's smug look as he jinxed him.

He grimaced. He mimed drinking something, drawing a C in midair before Da Vinci got it.

"Oh, Coca-Cola? So Robin finally got you, didn't he?"

HE PLANNED FOR THIS?! Proto Cú wanted to scream, instead settling for throwing his hands into the air while his face contorted into some form of angered exasperation. I should've known that it was payback for the cloak...

Da Vinci giggled at his antics, looking over her work with a knowing smile. "Sorry, but I don't have any Cola here. You can wait for the new shipment to come in, if you want to; it'll come in...oh, about three months."

THAT'S THREE MONTHS TOO MANY!! Proto Cú silently groaned, burying his face in his hands. Da Vinci hummed.

"Well, try asking Romani. He's the one who keeps an eye on the shipments coming into Chaldea, and also keeps track of inventory. If anyone would know where to find some Cola, it'd be him."

Proto Cú bowed in gratitude, taking off down the hallway towards the Doctor. In his haste he almost ran over Arthur, scaring the Saber.

"Lancer! Why are you in such a rush?"

Proto Cú waved his hands around wildly, mind in disarray. Can't talk gotta go find Roman so he can tell me where the Cola is because for some reason it's gone from Da Vinci's Workshop and this is turning into some Grand Adventure -

Arthur held up a hand, making him pause. "Is this about a bet between you and Robin Hood? If it helps, I heard him in the West Wing a couple of days ago in the dead of night. I was visiting Mordred at the time, and it was late, so I was surprised to see him out and about."

The West Wing. That was where the female Servants resided, and if Robin was there, then -

Oh no. A voice, one that sounded very much like Ozpin when Hazel found him reverberated within his reference-addled mind. Robin had to have hidden the Cola as payback; that much, he was sure of.

If he was in the West Wing, then that left two options: Scáthach, or -

Don't think about the Devil lest she appear.

Proto Cú nodded his thanks, Arthur wishing him luck with a smile and a wave as he took off. He'd go to his mentor's room first; that way, if he had to die at least it'd be an honorable death. He straightened himself as he approached her door, knocking thrice.

The answer was immediate. "Come in."

Proto opened the door. His mentor sat cross-legged on her bed, braiding Fran's hair as a soft tune played in the background. The Berserker hummed along brokenly with it, a smile on her face, and Proto felt as if he was intruding on a serene moment.

Scáthach side-eyed him. "State your business."

Proto Cú inwardly sighed. Was he really prepared to embarrass himself in front of his mentor? ...It was too late to back out, anyhow. He outlined an invisible drink, spelling out C-O-L-A with his hands before stepping back and waiting for a response.

Scáthach paused in her actions, Fran continuing to hum happily. "If this is about that Green Archer, then I don't have anything of value to you. I heard him speak to Medb three days ago, though, in the dead of night."

...

It really was the Worst-Case-Scenario.

Proto Cú nodded his thanks, and turned to go. Scáthach stopped him, her words giving him pause.

"Good luck, my student. You know what you must do."

Aye. He thought miserably, gently closing the door behind him so as to not further disrupt the serenity. He had two options: either wait for the next shipment to come in, or to brave the horrors of Medb's room.

He didn't think he could stay mute for three months.

Robin's lucky that I'm not going to eviscerate him with my spear. Proto Cú manifested it just in case, tip toeing towards the Rider's room. Then again, this whole mess is my fault in the first place. I've learned my lesson.

He sucked in a breath and knocked.

Silence. He waited with bated breath, deciding to knock again. No response. He almost knocked a third time before noticing that the door was unlocked. Just as he was about to open it, movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

A dust cloud was seen in the distance, seeming to grow larger with each passing second. A high pitched sound made itself known to him, becoming louder as he turned to face it.

...The hell?

He peered closer. It...actually looked like a person was running -

"CÚÚÚÚÚÚÚÚ!!!!!"

Medb.

Oh shit.

RUN!!!

Proto Cú let the fear kick his legs into overdrive, turning tail and running back the way he came. He could hear the Rider's footsteps growing closer; was she..actually catching up to him?

If you stop, you're dead. His mind helpfully supplied, making him almost let loose a string of curses. No matter how many turns he took, she was right there behind him. It was like she had a Cú Detector on hand.

I need to lose her somehow!

He was in the East Wing. Think...Think! His older Lancer counterpart yawned as he stepped out of his room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Perfect.

Proto Cú slapped his fellow Lancer's back as he ran by, diving behind the couch as the other stumbled. "What the - ?"

"YAYYY THERE'S ANOTHER CÚ!!" Medb's voice made the counterpart yelp and start running, leaving Proto Cú alone as he emerged from his hiding spot. He dusted himself off, sending a silent apology to his older self as he ran towards Medb's room.

It was time to end this nightmare.

--------

He'll be fine. He has to be. Robin paced back and forth in one of the break rooms, Emiya watching him out of the corner of his eye with a knowing smirk.

"Worried?"

"Shut up." He retorted, mentally berating himself for not telling Medb to go easy on him. This is the last time I let my anger get the best of me.

The door burst open. Robin's head whipped up to see Cú - not Proto, but the other Lancer version - throw himself into the room and slam the door shut behind him, locking it.

Crimson met steel. "Hide me."

"Pardon?" Emiya asked, confused. Cú gave him no time to respond; the Lancer moved around behind him and peeked over his shoulder, eyes trained on the door. Robin noticed his messy hair, strands sticking this way and that, and figured that the blue-haired Servant just woke up.

"A crazy bitch is after me." Cú whispered, eyes wide yet unmoving. "I don't care what I have to do to make it up to you; just hide me."

Emiya glanced down at him. To Robin's amazement, his face morphed into a strange expression for a split second before going back to its default. "There's a side room tucked away in the back right. Stay in there until I say otherwise."

"You are a lifesaver!" Cú breathed a sigh of relief as he went through the side door, shutting it softly behind him.

Robin stared at Emiya.

"Don't say it."

Robin stared.

"...It was spur of the moment."

Stare.

Emiya flushed in embarrassment. "It's not - "

The doorknob jiggled.

The two Archers zeroed in on it, falling silent as it rumbled more violently. The readied themselves for a battle they'd rather not have, drawing their weapons -

The knob broke as Proto Cú burst into the room, scouring it for .4 seconds before chucking something at Robin. The Green Archer yelped as the offending object hit his head, falling into his lap innocuously and resting there.

"There's your motherfuckin' Cola." Proto Cú said in exhaustion, closing the door behind him and dropping to the ground. Emiya lowered his weapons, letting them dematerialize as he let out a puff of air to relax his suddenly tense muscles.

Robin opened the Cola, taking a sip. "You're alive." He noted.

Proto Cú bristled. "Yeah, no thanks to you! I can't believe you've done this!"

The British accent made Robin chuckle. "I know, I know. Bringing in Medb was a bit much."

"A bit? A BIT?!" As Proto Cú began his (unnecessarily long) rant, Emiya gave the two a small smile. They really did act like an old married couple, didn't they?

All's well ends well, I suppose.

-------- OMAKE! --------

Fsn Cú: ...Is it safe to come out yet?

Fsn Cú: Oi! Guys? Helloooo?

Robin: Just come out of the fucking closet already

Robin: We all know you're gay for Emiya

Fsn Cú, opening the door: Okay, thanks -

Fsn Cú:

Fsn Cú: Wait -

Fsn Cú: WHAT -

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writer59january13 · 3 years

Text

Circa February 12th, 2122 ~ 10:30 PM

Equals twenty one thirty 22:30 military time

future time traveler looks back one century ago,

oceanic waterways overladen with green slime,

yours truly attempted crafting id est feeble rhyme

far from madding crowd, nevertheless yet lovely

bones and flesh quite spry, still considered prime (moost procreative, prodigious, and progressive)

stage, since (case ye didn't know) approximately

eight score orbitz round Earth's sun still noontime

chronologically analogous to protracted lunchtime

whereat the average offspring jetson or (daughter)

can be sweet as apple pie or sour as lemon or lime

cell metabolism catalytic converter courtesy enzyme routine medical procedure costs about one dime.

Me - born fifty nine years into twentieth century alive

eight score and three years secret condiment iz chive

and well (still hashtagged as precocious) with drive

to safely, sidestep, and surmount establishmentarian

archaic, formulaic, and mosaic Judaic/Christian hive

found synchronicity within Unitarian Church more so

parents introduced dogmatic, ethic, fundamentalistic jargonistic, kinetic, linguistic, pluralistic, quixotic I've

discovered compatibility with non religious teaching

wry master of words (me) take poetic license to jive

reasonably rhyming nope heart tickle early misthrive

moost definitely dirty deeds done dirt cheap (trick)

super tramping space cowboy lobbing power-drive

re: frequently innocent prelapsarian double entendre

(Jean Jacques Rousseau) Noble Savage he doth strive

even though hanky panky tinged entire his/her story,

Homo sapiens animal husbandry hastily did wive.

Formalities encompass chalice lighting ma yoyo

wing liberal Democratic political bent embraces XO

shorthand for virtual affectionate charisma minister

Reverend Margret O'Neal imparts open greeting congregation Sunday at ten thirty AM courtesy zoom

bajillion years after proto humans experienced woe

countless figurative early Brady bunched bro doggie

dimples encountered necessity to escape cohabitation

(marital covenant alien), yet quasi marital brouhaha

ofttimes witnessed altercation begetting re: thorough

out baby with bath water phenomena, which literal cruel fate heavily peppered past (mine) accounting

lamely explaining Pink Floyd momentary status quo

upended accompanied courtesy lapse of reason no

definitive evidence to substantiate claim, yet I know

without shadowed doubt every friggin forebear (hoe

pining to savor manumission, versus cotton pickin)

back breaking stoop labor think indentured escrow

harking back to days of our lives (mainly bonobo

nasty, short and brutus creatures millenniums ago

unsung simian kindred beings suffering figurative

ruffled horse feathers nsync with bird in hand dodo

which latter species long extinct (as Dutch good eats)

now non sequitur (sea quitter) mine homeboys/girls

comprising Harris eventual clan (of craven lionized

"scapegoats" set genealogical precedent, and grew

some real winners gentiles, who commingled and

intermarried, and united proudly to kvetch as Jew)

eventually acquiring redeeming qualities conveniently

best caricatured as features exhibited by Mister MaGoo

invariably dear reader "fake" anecdote ye will poo poo

as well how storied and fabled coronavirus (COVID-19)

medical technicians reference quaint pandemic setting

figurative global stage brethren and sistern microbes

made webbed, wide world wish for said good ole days

cuz, communiqué done being crafted about six hours

marine hated, armies of beastie boys slain 2122 yahoo

the darndest, latest microscopic bugaboo nearly slew

entire population, hence envision terra firma with

divine providence absolute zero people as edenic provenance (metaphorically offering tabula rasa view.

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lowkeyunhinged1-blog · 6 years

Text

SHIPPING INFO // answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog. REPOST. don’t reblog.

1. WHAT’S YOUR OTP FOR YOUR MUSE? :

i have two, really. todorokku with @quirkoficeandfire because it gives me endless endless life and it was rokku’s first ship and i adore them, and also katsuyamirokku with @nitrosweet and @quirkless-wonder. we haven’t done much with that one yet but it’s gonna be so good when we finally do.

2. WHAT ARE YOU WILLING TO RP WHEN IT COMES TO SHIPPING? :

i draw the line at abuse, emotional or physical, and smut, but other than that pretty much anything. mutual pining? love it. one sided pining? i live for angst. rokku being dumb and oblivious? they most definitely will be. slow burn? one of my absolute favourite things in ships, tbh. rokku being the most obvious human on the planet and everyone else knowing? that’s all their ships.

3. HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE? :

rokku is 16, so two years either side is the limit for me.

4. ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING? :

i am somewhat. i like to at least talk with my shipping partners! i promise that i don’t bite, and i really love plotting and talking about ideas. chemistry is super important to me, though, but i honestly really love to talk about both romantic and platonic ships and even rivalries if we can work out how that would work so hmu!

5. HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY’RE CONSIDERED NSFW?

if it goes further than a heavy make out session that it’s too far for me. keep it at kissing.

6. WHO ARE OTHER MUSES YOU SHIP YOUR MUSE WITH? :

todoroki ( @quirkoficeandfire ), yamikumo ( @quirkless-wonder ), and proto katsuki ( @nitrosweet ).

7. DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU? :

not ask as such, like you don’t have to come and be like “can i ship with you?” but yes in the sense that i do like to discuss ships and stuff, and chemistry is a huge huge thing for me so i like to talk about ideas and stuff before we do anything. sometimes i know right away if i think the ship will work, and sometimes it’s just about talking a little about ideas!

8. HOW OFTEN DO YOU LIKE TO SHIP? :

all the time. i love to ship, and not just romantic ones! platonic ships are super important too and i love good friendships just as much as romantic ships.

9. ARE YOU SHIP OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE - OR - LESS? :

when i love a ship, i love it. i will spam you with fluff ideas and all sorts of nonsense, i am an excitable and probably very annoying ship partner. but it’s not the be all and end all for me, either. shipping is fun, but it’s a bonus and not really what i rp for.

10. ARE YOU MULTISHIP? :

abso-fricking-lutely!

11. WHAT IS ( ARE ) YOUR FAVORITE SHIP (S) IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM? :

i have so many. seriously, i ship so many things.

12. FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU? :

just hop into my messages to chat and ask what i think! my discord is on my blog somewhere as well, but if you want it and are one of my mutuals then feel free to ask!

Tagged By: i stole it from @glamie, and posted it on my other blog then dropped it here too for this dumb noodle.

Tagging: you, if you haven’t done it already!

#for once rokku is quiet / ooc #//psa #//ahhh #//hi i love to ship #//also no i don’t care that i put two otps fight me

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dellaliz19 · 7 years

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A Wrinkle in Time movie review: spoilers!

So, I jut got out of the theatre after seeing Ava DuVernay’s A Wrinkle in Time. To preface: I’ve never read the book the movie is based it. It skipped being mandatory reading at my school it seems, and so going into this movie I knew really only that it was a movie about a young girl going on a fantastical adventure to find her father...and that critics weren’t impressed. Now, I hardly put much stock in critics, and so I figured I’d go see it anyways. My thoughts? A Wrinkle in Time is thoroughly cute, and I mean that as a compliment.

First, it needs to be stated that this is obviously a movie for children. And I don’t say that to try and premptively lower standards, but to set the tone. A Wrinkle In Time is set for a pre-teen audience, and its thesis is clear and simple: learn to accept your flaws, and love yourself. That’s it. No more, no less. The sci-fi and the CGI, The Mrs’ and the technobabble is all just set dressing for that basic idea: that this is a story where a 13 year old girl fights her self doubt, and learns to love herself. And in that way, the movie certainly succeeds.

Storm Reid - the main character of Meg Murray - brings a lot of nuance to Meg. She feels like a believable teen, who has isolated her self after this disappearance of her father and who struggles with self doubt and self acceptance. It’s genuinely rewarding to watch her go through her journey, and she always feels like she has the skills to tackle the challenges facing her. Her relationship with her brother - the adorably named Charles Wallace - is sweet and genuine and the true backbone of the movie. Meg might start trying to save her father, but it’s in saving Charles Wallace that she really comes into herself, and their relationship is sweet and real.

Deric McCabe’s Charles Wallace is utterly adorable, and for a child actor, he’s a real force of presence. He’s sweet and optimistic, and when he make his turn to the dark side, so to speak, his performance is truly impressive. He really sells his oddly charming character, and he too is absolutely holding up his end of his relationship with Meg. Meg’s reunion with her father is undeniably powerful, but Charles Wallace patting her face after he comes out of his dark phase and singing is probably in competition with that for the strongest moment in the film, and those two kids have so much to be proud of as actors.

That said, there are some weaknesses. Tertiary main character Calvin - Meg’s proto love interest - is narratively mostly useless. Charles Wallace states that they will “need him for his diplomacy” but he’s never used in that capacity. He exists to marvel after Meg, and to exposit his tragic backstory, and that’s about it. Levi Miller does the best he can with him, and he does have some real charming moments, like when he and Meg hold hands when the IT is torturing them, but otherwise he’s not well utilized. The Mrs’ are all fine, and Kaling, Oprah and Witherspoon are all good and visually engaging. But as characters they are strangely hollow, and although I respect that they needed to disappear to let the story be Meg’s, the fact that they’re not present in half of the movie doesn’t let them really have any weight or development.

There were plenty of great things about the movie, so you know the drill:

- it really is a visually beautiful movie. The CGI is magically to look at, and very whimsical. From the flowers to the flying lettuce, to the room Meg finds her dad in, there are tons of great shots and set pieces to enjoy.

- Good-Science Dad Chris Pine is an excellent vintage of Chris Pine. I’m definitely looking forward to more of this version of him ;)

- the scene with the houses and the children is very well done and, for a scene so bright and colourful, quite creepy.

- Charles Wallace and Meg really do have a strong, adorablely sweet relationship, and they’re a joy to watch as siblings and as characters

- Zach Galifianakis’ Happy Medium was a funny side character, and watching him awkwardly hit on Mrs. Whatsit was great, as well as watching him support and awkwardly hug Meg.

- I was pretty freaking invested in getting Chris Pine back to his family. The scene where Meg finds him, and where he meets Charles Wallace (both times) are powerful scenes. And I was going to truly lose my mind if they faded to black before he reunited with his wife, such was my investment, and so I was very rewarded when that happened.

- it was good they took a second to add some depth to Veronica, Meg’s school bully. It’s just a quick look, but I’m really only a couple of seconds we get a very clear picture that Veronica is dealing with a lot of her own issues and that those issues of self doubt and self loathing Mirror Meg’s, and that’s a great parallel to have.

Look, A Wrinkle in Time is a simple movie with a simple message. The story wastes no time in trying to really explain the science: the Mrs’ just show up, and then the story is off. And the Villain is basically the metaphysical concept of self doubt and darkness, and the characters defeat it with love and light. But again, it’s a cute movie, with some genuine charm and sweetness, and I say, if you want to look at something beautiful and feel good, then you can’t go wrong with this one.

#a wrinkle in time #ava duvernay #storm reid #gugu mbatha raw #chris pine #movie review #mindy kaling #reese witherspoon #zack galifianikis #oprah #oprah winfrey #books #movie adaptation #coming of age

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jafreitag · 3 years

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Grateful Dead Monthly: Hollywood Sportatorium – Pembroke Pines, FL 5/22/77

On Sunday, May 22, 1977, the Grateful Dead played a concert at the Hollywood Sportatorium in Pembroke Pines, Florida.

The Sportatorium was built in 1968 in a then-sparsely-populated and unincorporated area of Broward County southwest of Fort Lauderdale and northwest of Miami. The developers were a couple of guys – Stephen Calder and Norman Johnson – who opened a horse track and later a motorsports track nearby. The plan for the venue sounds like a proto Florida Man’s fever dream. From the Wiki:

Among the plans for the Sportatorium were sports events, ice follies programs, auto and boat shows, and eventually a “Gold Coast State Fair”. The Sportatorium was constructed as a hangar-like facility constructed out of concrete, a steel roof, an asphalt floor, and no air conditioning. Originally designed to seat 18,000 for stage events and 15,000 for arena events, it opened in December 1969 with only 6,000 seats.

“The idea was to have a facility which could have entertainment and events out of weather”, said Bruce Johnson, Norman Johnson’s son, who managed the arena until 1980. At first, it hosted indoor rodeos, indoor motocross events, wrestling, boxing, and some concerts.

According to the Wiki, the first event in the Sportatorium was the 1969 Miami Rock Festival on 12/27-29. The Dead played that Fest on 12/28, but Deadlists indicates that the venue was the International Speedway (the aforementioned motorsports track?), so the Wiki is likely inaccurate. The Sportatorium ultimately did become the premier concert mecca in South Florida, fulfilling the Johnson family promise of something something inside. Here’s a list of who played there in the early/mid-’70s: ELP, Zeppelin, the MC5, Fleetwood Mac, and Spirit in 1971; ABB, Floyd, and Yes in 1972; Uriah Heep, Zappa, Elton John, and Chicago in 1973; Dylan and King Crimson in 1974; the Doobies and Skynyrd in 1975; and the Eagles, ZZ Top, Clapton, and KISS in 1976. Yeah, the ’70s were eclectic and amazing, and dominated by duuudes.

By the late ’80s, the Miami Arena was the main stop for big acts, and the Sportatorium was reduced to booking stale metal bands like Iron Maiden and Judas Priest. (Zero shade: I’m fine with Maiden and Priest, but they were past their primes at that point.) The last show there was on 10/21/88 – some country and western unknowns. In 1992, the land was zoned residential. In 1993 after Hurricane Andrew, the Sportatorium was leveled.

The Dead played there for the first time in 1977. (They returned in ’78, 80, and ’85.) Let’s get to the tour and the show. Caveat: I am a complete ’77 geek. I don’t think that the band played a bad show that entire year, and most of them were exemplary.

The band started the year with a handful of Cali shows – San Bernardino (2/26), Santa Barbara (2/27), Winterland (3/18-20) – before heading to the other coast. By then, the weird/cool segue-happy ’76 approach had been jettisoned for something leaner, setlist-wise. The 1977 template was basically the one that the band would use until 1995: A crowd-pleaser opener or openers; Bobby stuff (sometimes cowboy, sometimes blues, and Dylan in the ’80s-90s) interspersed with Jerry stuff (mostly ballads); a big first-set closer; a big second-set opener; a song or two leading into something sorta jam-able; drums and space; a vaguely-segued, three-to-five-song, crowd-pleaser ender that could/would include Bobby energy and Jerry gravitas; and encore that might be fun. Shit was predictable, but it worked.

In April, the band landed in Philly (4/22), traveled up to Springfield, MA (4/23), traveled back down to Passiac, NJ (4/25-27), camped out for five nights (4/29-30, 5/1, 3-4) at the Palladium in NYC, then jumped from New Haven, CT (5/5) to maybe the best three consecutive nights in their history – Boston (5/7), Ithaca, NY (5/8), and Buffalo (5/9). The tour then wound its way around the eastern half of the country: St. Paul > Chicago > St. Louis > Tuscaloosa, AL > Atlanta > Florida (two places, including the Sportatorium) > Richmond, VA > Baltimore > Hartford, CT. My recitation of that itinerary isn’t gratuitous. Like the setlist architecture, the tour structure was starting to take shape. The only reason that ’77 didn’t become the template for the latter was Mickey’s June 20th car accident, which gave the band a summer break that extended until September.

On a recent road trip, my best friend and I deep-dived into the Good Ol’ Grateful Deadcast, the “official” podcast from Rhino Records, who owns the vault. The first season was a track-by-track dissection of Workingman’s Dead. The second season was a track-by-track dissection of American Beauty. Those records celebrated 50th birthdays last year. Somewhere in the second season, main talker Jesse Jarnow mentions that touring wasn’t really a thing in the late ’60s and early ’70s. His point, which comes across with great aplomb in an interview with road manager Sam Cutler, is that the Dead had to create the tour concept for themselves before they could draw ‘heads into following them across the country year after year. Anyway, I can’t recommend that podcast highly enough – it’s been fantastic so far, and I’m excited to hear when it goes next. Well worth a listen.

So. 5/22/77. It must be alright if Dick Latvala picked it as the third release in the vault series that bears his name? Yep.

The show starts with a fun Funiculi Funicula wiggle, then drops into a funky The Music Never Stops. Next is a fantastic Sugaree that seems to go on forever. Is it the longest of the tour? No. According to a post on the Dead for a Year blog, there were seven versions of Sugaree in 5/77. (I confirmed that.)The longest is 5/28 (18:43, per Deadlists); the next longest is 5/19 (17:02). The rest, including 5/22, fall into the 13-15 minute range. This one is 15:38, and it doesn’t disappoint. The rest of the first set is a trade off between Bobby and Jerry. El Paso, Peggy-O, Minglewood, Friend of the Devil, Lazy Lightnin’ > Supplication, Ramble on Rose. All excellent. The first set-closing Dancing in the Street is just slightly less great than the Cornell version.

The second set-opening Help on the Way > Slipknot! > Franklin’s Tower is just slightly less great than the Buffalo version. (Hey, DW. Just checking if you’re awake.) The Samson & Delilah pops, and Donna isn’t a minus, until she is. After a so-so Brown-Eyed Women and an even more so-so Good Lovin’, she’s back to lead Sunrise. Whatever. The Estimated > Eyes ticks all the boxes for me. Estimated is big and round, and Eyes is plenty fast. The segue from Eyes into Wharf Rat is an honest >, noodly and smooth. (Deadlists calls it Space, but it’s better than that.) A short Terrapin and a long Dew ends the set. And Sugar Magnolia is a suitable encore. That’s my take.

Here’s everybody’s favorite Deadhead with his listening notes. Ladies and Gentlemen, Emcee ECM…

When GD archivist, Dick Latvala unearthed a damaged analog tape of 5/22/77, it was probably one of best finds/surprises in Grateful Dead taping history. Of course, the story of Rob Eaton acquiring the Betty Boards of 5/8/77 (among many other shows that were missing from the vault) takes first prize, but most people in the taping community already knew about Cornell from audience tapes that circulated. With 5/22/77, nothing circulated. It was a completely unknown show, which made it’s mystery all the more intriguing. Latvala and crew painstakingly restored the damaged analog tape and released it for all of us to hear as Dick’s Pick Volume 3 in 1995. The show opens with a mind blowing Music > Sugaree combo, the latter being an all-time version. Listen to the way Garcia weaves a hypnotic spider web of notes in Sugaree. Later in the set we get a sizzling Lazy>Supplication and a tender Peggy-O. The set closes with a groove-a-licious version of Dancing In The Street that gives Cornell a run for its money.

In Set 2, we get our faces melted with a spellbinding Slipknot! and a joyous Franklin’s Tower. Eyes of the World starts with a gorgeous lengthy opening jam before the verses and ends with an otherworldly jam that leads into a stunning Wharf Rat. Then we get to the reason why Dick Latvala released this show. It’s one of those magical Grateful Dead moments where everything seems right in the universe. Here, somehow, Wharf Rat finds its way into Terrapin Station WITHOUT the Lady With A Fan section. It’s the only time this ever happened. From there we get another incredibly rare treat: Morning Dew. The last version the band played was at Cornell two weeks before this performance. Dew was only played five times in 1977, and all of the versions are astounding including this one. Also, this is the third of only four performances ever of the TerraDew combo. Wish they would have played it more just as I wish they would have performed the Playin’ Palindrome more often. A legendary Grateful Dead show in the legendary month of May 1977. Time to revisit this Dick’s Picks if you haven’t done so already.

As Ed mentioned, most of this show is an official release, Dick’s Picks #3. (Idk why they opted to include Sunrise over BEW or Sugar Mags.) Here’s the Spotify widget…

And if you’re not on Spotify, or just want the whole show, transport to the Charlie Miller remaster of the soundboard recording HERE.

More soon.

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