#sorry I don’t think it’s relevant for the idea itself I just wanted to talk about it

[moro-the-sun]

Was in art gallery today.

May I interest you in very meta abstract AU where a Watcher (Grian) takes a Listener (Martyn) for a tour in Observatory Revealing Belief (ORB) where they have all religious art in the world?

Also a Speaker (Scar) is here too but he doesn’t have a body in the moment cus he is on duty literally telling you what is happening.

Is this anything?

[todomitoukei]

Hey! I’d like to share my thoughts with you if you don’t mind! I don't know if what I say is relevant or not, so you don't have to answer if you don't want to :)

(Sorry if I make some mistakes, English is not my native language)

I don’t take Endeavour’s redemption seriously because of three incoherences :

1.One of the reasons why Horikoshi’s attempt to redeem Endeavour doesn’t convince me is because he never stops praising the qualities that made Endeavour abuse Touya and his entire family : his hard work ; his professionalism ; his obsession with his job… Horikoshi keeps repeating the same thing over and over : look at how he’s a hard worker ; look at how he works with devotion ; look at how he's a good superhero who trains the elite soldiers… Deku defends Endeavour because he’s a good mentor and Burnin’ doesn’t give a fuck about Touya because she respects her boss… I don’t see what that has to do with the question! Being good at your job isn't an excuse, let alone when you hurt your family because of this job : what “justified” the psychological and physical violence towards Rei, Touya, Fuyumi, Natsuo and Shouto (Endeavour's devotion to his job) is exactly what Horikoshi uses to make his character look good.

2. Endeavour keeps in touch with his coworkers who said they don’t care at all about Touya’s story (Burnin’, Kido, Onima and Deku to some extent). In other words, Endeavour says he regrets what he did to Touya but he spends time with people who don’t give a fuck about what happened to his son just because he’s a good boss. It's pure hypocrisy. The last time we see Endeavour is him spending time with people who say “the job/system that made you abuse your family is more important than the abuse itself”.

3. Endeavour makes the same mistake again by refusing to talk to his son before the tragedy (and Horikoshi wants me to think he changed for the better). He’s completely responsible for Touya’s real death just like he was responsible for Touya's first “death”. There were so many ways to stop Touya from burning himself. Endeavour could have retreated after Touya’s reveal to look for his son (didn’t he say he was desperately looking for his son when he “died” at the age of 13 ? Why didn’t he make the effort to reach him after the reveal ?) ; during the war, he could have met his son instead of waiting for Touya to face him (that would have been an interesting echo to the Sekoto Peak scene where Touya “died” because his father didn’t come to see him)… but Endeavour didn’t do anything at all because Horikoshi loves body horror and bad tragedy (I love horrific and tragic stories ; it just doesn’t fit MHA). Endeavour fails at saving his own son twice because he’s a coward and Horikoshi wants me to think he’s cool.

And it’s Natsuo, who held his father responsible for Touya’s first “death”, who tells him he’s badass when he sees his brother dying because Endeavour made the same mistake that killed Touya the first time… what ?  

It's as if Horikoshi already "redeemed" Endeavour by making him change his behaviour with other people, which exempts his character from acting differently with Touya. He trained Deku who shared some similarities with Touya, his firstborn he didn't want to train because of his quirk, and he accepted teamwork instead of being self-centred. Touya embodies Endeavour's self past, and this self past had to die because Endeavour already changed with other people : it's not Endeavour who came too late to help his son, it was Touya who came too late to be helped. Thank you Horikoshi for this beautiful manga.

Sweet anon no need to apologize, your English is great!! (and let's be real most native English speakers couldn't form a single coherent sentence in a foreign language if their life depended on it)

You're absolutely right - I will be forever mad about that "I think your abuser is better than you because he's my mentor" like... ummm... huh??? No words, honestly. I could kind of get behind the idea of Endvr not immediately quitting his job as he saw stopping Touya as his responsibility. However, the sheer fact that he had a choice in the end to retire rather than, you know, being rightfully labeled as a villain himself for the crimes he has committed, stripped of his title as hero, thrown in jail or whatever etc. is forever going to be one of the dumbest aspects of this story. Even in the end, Endvr was never punished, really punished, for the things he's done.

This ties in with the second point you raise - he still has people by his side supporting him. At this point, the only thing that has changed for him is the fact he doesn't have to work anymore. Retirement, oh noooo :((( His sidekicks are essentially still his sidekicks, his number one fan Hwks is still by his side, acting like the child he never had and oh what's that? His wifey he abused pushes his wheelchair that he is more than capable of moving on his own? Wonderful!

Not only is Natsuo suddenly calling him badass the weirdest, most out-of-character line possible, I also felt that Natsuo deciding to cut him off wasn't even punishment considering Endvr never bothered to hang out or speak with him in the first place so it's not really different from before?

It's especially weird then how the members of the lov - all of whom are younger than Endvr - are considered "too far gone" and have to be thrown in jail or killed, yet Endvr gets infinite chances because he was smart enough to cover up his crimes for long enough? Because he established himself as hero so he gets unlimited get-out-of-jail cards?

It doesn't make sense to consider a 24 year old (crying because there was a time I was younger than him rip) who has suffered from all sorts of abuse his entire life can't be given a second chance because he reacted to that abuse instead of just dying as a kid, yet a grown ass man who made very conscious decisions he planned out carefully and kept hidden from the public for over two decades gets to go on just because the public isn't bringing out the guillotine?

Anyway... rip lov, you have always deserved to be in a better story than this.

[dorizardthewizard]

HSM (2006) rewatch pt 16 (final)

16: WHAT TEAM?

Yaaay champions! I like how he actually fakes right and breaks left in the game haha

We don’t get to see Gabriella winning though, but I imagine a scholastic decathlon win wouldn’t look so interesting

AND THE COCKBLOCK COUNTER STARTS NOW! : 1

This will be more relevant in the second movie

And yes I'm going to read too much into Chad breaking them up

Chad: So, you're going with me to the after-party, right? Taylor: Like on a date? Chad: Must be your lucky day!

Smooth, Chad, real smooth. Although I wish we could have gotten some moments of them actually becoming more close because it’s kind of out of nowhere? It's like they said, here’s the black best friend characters. Obviously we should just pair them up, no need to actually develop that everyone should get it.

^ For reference, it took like a few minutes of screentime for us to buy into Troy and Gabriella being into each other, so they really could have squeezed something in like, maybe during their talk when they realised they fucked up? They could have a genuine moment there.

Also quick fast forward but I read in an interview with Monique I think that she had the idea of giving Taylor a Britney-inspired outfit for the last scene, and yeah it's a pretty nice touch! A mix between preppy but also showing her letting loose.

I didn't clock that outfit at all at first though because I'm used to seeing school uniform in my country asdjhsf

Anyway yeah it’s too sudden for Sharpay to suddenly be cool with everyone now, but I don’t really care because they had no idea how big this movie would become and that they’d get sequels so I get why they wrapped that up quickly.

Awww Zeke! You gotta let it go man, there’s plenty of girls out there who will appreciate your cookies. Why does Sharpay reply “ew” to cookies what 😭😭 adding this to my lesbian Sharpay agenda

But Ryan picks them up at least and congratulates Zeke, he’s also wearing red so… supportive? Ok I see you Lucas I see what you were trying to do and I’m sorry Disney wouldn’t let you do it, but I do still find it hilarious how these little moments just get completely overshadowed by THAT scene in HSM2 LMAO

Aww Kelsi looking happy but awkward, same. Looks like everyone had an outfit change! She’s the playmaker! Troy’s like Kelsi fan number one and their friendship is so underrated honestly, he’s always lifting her up. Which must have been crazy for Kelsi, in the novelisation during their first interaction she’s like “THE Troy Bolton is being nice to me holy shit??”

Kelsi’s reaction is so funny though like, yeah I too would be like “Thanks!! Errr what do I do with this now I don’t know anything about basketball? Do I shoot it for fun? But I’ll probably flop and lose the ball, how long am I supposed to carry it for? Can I just… leave it to the side? Put it away I mean they’re gonna need it again? But I don’t want to look like I don’t appreciate it?????” This is what my brain is like during every single unscripted social interaction I engage in btw

Jason noticing her being a bit awkward and helping her shoot the ball is sweet, he’s just like that. Not a huge fan of taking her hat off though, I know it’s like this ooooh she’s letting loose moment but…. she had it on during Breaking Free when she’d just stood up to Sharpay and she was all energetic and confident during the performance, she’s all about her hats let her wear her hat! It comes off as the “oooooohhh this nerdy girl with questionable fashion sense is actually really beautiful if she just presents more conventionally!” trope

And now the final song! I've given up on making passable screencaps

I love watching the extras in this one because they’re obviously professional dancers and they just show everyone up, especially in that bit once the end credits start rolling. Ryan slays in this too, and happy to see Martha freely dancing there! As for the song itself, it’s iconic of course. For my personal listening tastes though, it's just a liiiittle too cheesy and for the kids. That’s what they were going for, with a pretty learnable choreography and all. Which is fine! It’s just not something I’d listen to much in my free time. I’m also haunted by another vine where these guys do a handshake or something and then break into this choreography idk, I can’t find it. Anyway B tier

WILDCATS EVERYWHERE! WAVE YOUR HANDS UP IN THE AIR! THAT'S THE WAY WE DO IT LET'S GET TO IT COME ON EVERYONE!! 😭

Hahahaha this post-credits scene, what was Zeke even doing just wandering around there aimlessly. Thinking about his rejection? : ( But no one can resist his baking for long!

His smile at the camera is so funny, yeah they never really went anywhere with this Sharpay-Zeke thing in the series so it’s kind of weird they keep throwing in little hints and Zeke still has a crush on her every movie

Aaaaand that’s the movie! This commentary has clocked in at over 9000 words, this is insane.

[retracing-my-steps-again]

Spider-Man: Expiation (Ch. 1 Notes)

My rant, personal notes, and story notes for chapter one of my Spider-Man MHA fusion fic (Izuku as Spider-Man).

Spoilers for Ch. 1 below

First a quick rant:

I'm not yet satisfied with the editing of this fic nor have I finished writing it all the way but you know what? I need some will to live and if I post this it means I can't die until I've posted the whole fic ! Jk but fr life is looking dismal these days so I need something else to focus on. And if I try to be a super perfectionist like usual about this fic and don't start posting it there's a chance it'll live in my computer forever, never to be perceived by a single other soul. A part of me is fine with that but the other part of me thinks I've spent hundreds of hours on this and some people might enjoy it.

I need to stop holding myself to such a ridiculous standard this is a my hero academia fanfic and I don't even get paid for this shit -_- I can't spend all my time forever writing it as much as I would like to.

Author Notes:

Like I said in the end notes on the chapter itself, I know the Spider-Man Izuku phase of the internet is long over. I still see posts about it from time to time though so I suspect some people will still want to read this. In my defense, I’ve been writing this fic since that phase of the internet when it was popular. So… I’ve been writing this fic for literal years now.

I’m a huge fan of in medias res, so I would’ve rather kicked off the beginning in a much more interesting way, but I actually think it worked better to start at the beginning for this fic. So hopefully all the setup isn’t unbearable. I’m sorry there’s so much exposition/recap of the canon universe. I wanted to include it in case people haven’t watched the show or read the manga in a while and still wanted to have context without getting confused. I also wanted to provide a bit of my character analysis so you can get an idea of how I'll be writing this fic. There's a bit more character analysis in Ch. 2 as well.

Also it’s very funny to me how much of MHA has Star Wars references. There’s so many goddamn Star Wars references. So many locations are borrowed from Star Wars. Even the entrance exam robot names are named after star destroyers (which I don't include in this fic because it's not really relevant).

I still have no idea what to do about suffixes, so it may just remain a mess. I can’t really get rid of them completely (or rather translate them to the best of my ability). Mainly because “Kacchan” is a nickname utilizing a Japanese suffix and many of the characters refer to each other by family name, so sometimes the suffix is an important distinction. But like with doctor ? I just used Dr. so it really is just a mess. I still don’t know what to do about it but hopefully it's not too off-putting and inconsistent.

Chapter 1 Story Notes:

Funny story, the first chapter used to just be called "Origins" and it ended with Izuku getting bit by a radioactive spider and now it's been split up a whole lot ! It used to be very generalized and kinda boring though so I don't feel bad about it lol

This story involves a major divergence from canon (obviously) right at the beginning.

In canon, Izuku only decides to stop going after his dream of being a hero when he hears it from All Might himself. Of course, he still runs in to save Katsuki immediately after this but still. Up until this point, he wasn't letting anyone else deter him from trying to be a hero. Then, of course, he's chosen to be All Might's successor.

So, in this fic there's none of that. Izuku hasn't met All Might at this point (outside of the sludge villain incident, where in this he doesn't have a chance to talk to him at all because Katsuki is attacked first). He still wants to try and go to UA and become a Hero but doesn't really physically train or get a Quirk obviously.

I feel like Izuku running in to save Katsuki is an important part of the canon story that I wanted to be a part of this fic. So in this fic, even though Katsuki is attacked first, Izuku still has to run in to save him before All Might shows up. (I'm pretty sure I actually talk about this at some point later during the fic but it's not a spoiler to say it now as it technically already happened and isn't super important to this story. It's more that removing it entirely felt like too much of a divergence that I didn't want to deal with.)

Honestly, I've spent many hours stressing about keeping the characters as accurate as possible to canon, but it's sometimes difficult because this fic is so different from canon. There are a lot of parallels to canon though so hopefully that's enough to keep people from feeling too thrown off. I feel like I have a good understanding of the characters in canon (largely referring to Izuku and Katsuki) so I really do my best to keep them in character even with such a different story.

I thought I might as well also add in some of my scribblings somewhere in case anyone would find it interesting or helpful. Below were my first notes on Izuku's injury. I needed to plan it out and ensure I could keep consistent with stuff. Also for the sake of my own visualization. Not all of it is relevant to the fic and is just me thinking through things medically.

Also because this is obviously not in our universe and they have accelerated healing and stuff, I had to try and visualize what that could mean for long term healing and everything.

TW: semi-graphic descriptions of injury/injury recovery (no graphic images so basically just don't read below if you don't want to)

Disclaimer: obviously don't take any of this as medical advice. These are my personal notes for the sake of visualization. They're very generalized and were largely off the top of my head.

[golbrocklovely]

Hey it’s sky as I’m sure you’ve figured out l sent you the last ask with the boo bear footage. I have another video of sam talking to it and it talking back as he’s filming b roll.

It’s a little bit easier to see what you and I both assumed was the battery pack, I fully agree with what you said. Maybe he thought he could get it back in but couldn’t or stuff inside was damaged.

Like you said, we already know they replaced this bear so it’s really not that important in the grand scheme of things and I’m mostly sharing to let other people not in XPLR club (or people who aren’t insane enough to spend an hour scrolling down their feed to two years ago lol) what the bear looked like as I think it’s important for one reason.

When I saw the security footage, I was picturing a boo bear as like a hard peace of paranormal equipment like a rem pod just cased in a bear. That makes Colby look way worse imo. This you can see it’s plush and soft, so I think when he kicked it, he genuinely had no idea in his mind that would be a bad thing to do because you don’t expect a stuffed animal to break. Anyways, share if you find relevant lol. Much love!!

https://imgur.com/a/R2HT2IF

sorry for the delayed response, sky.

and yeah, i think the main thing is snc did in some copascity break the bear, but they replaced it, which is all that matters truly. this was a whole situation that got dealt with the literal day after it happened, and it's very clear to me that ppl want it to be something it's not so they can add it to the list of why snc suck lol

and i think the bear itself has sensors in it, but i don't think he broke those. i think the battery pack just flew out and maybe snapped in a way so it couldn't get put back in. but again, idk for certain since i don't own one of these bears haha

and i'm fine with sharing that other clip too. like i said, anything from the bellaire house or ross house is fine this time around.

[dredgen-dumbass]

Redo of my pinned post, again, because I'm indecisive.

At a glance:

No screen name, he/him. Predominantly SFW blog, tws follow the normal content of Destiny 2. I swear like a sailor. Not the type for dni lists, just don't be a bigot. Asks are open to all. I don't mind mass likes/reblogs, and dw about derailing. The rest is under the cut.

sideblogs:

D2 sims???: @destinythesims

Art: @dredgen-dumbass-art-acc

rp blogs welcome to interact, but I ain't one

Message from yours truly,

I genuinely thought I was going to just spam Drifter content for a few days, and then go delete Tumblr again once my brain calmed down about it. As it turns out, that isn't happening. I like the community here so far, which isn't something I've been able to say about Tumblr for some time now, and it seems like I'm going to stick around a while longer. That, and I thought I was just fixated on the one character, but Destiny itself is becoming a pretty big interest of mine, and I know I'll need somewhere to talk about it, so this is going to shift more towards that. I'm going to try to be a bit more cautious with tags so I'm not filling them with every Destiny related through that crosses into my brain, so I'm going to set up an (albeit shoddy) tagging system and be a bit more conservative with what gets put in the main D2 tag. Apologies if I flooded anything you follow, I'm used to posting in a much larger fandom where things get buried really quick, I didn't realize how bad it was until I tried to go through those tags myself, and... eesh. (it’s been a few months, but I’m leaving this here. iykyk.)

So, me.

I know it's Tumblr culture to put every last detail in your bio, but personally I'm not comfortable with that. If you need more than I give, then just click off and move on. I understand wanting some idea of who you're talking to, but I think the things that matter will come up naturally through my posts. What I do think should be clarified, just as a matter of perspective with all the queer stuff in this fandom, is that I'm a gay dude. Other than that, I don't think any labels are relevant to this account. If something else becomes relevant, feel free to ask for clarification, I understand that some things read differently depending on who's saying them. Otherwise, respect my privacy, thanks.

side note that I’m throwing on here late, my memory is shit, if I send you duplicate asks etc. I’m sorry. it shouldn’t really matter elsewhere bc wonderful and terrible thing of the internet is that all it is logged— but I digress.

Fandom chaos & such,

I want to keep discourse away from my blog, both fandom and real-world. Especially real-world, because Destiny is an escape for me, and I want to keep this as a separate space I've carved for myself, in the same way as the game is for me. That said, bigots can fuck off to all hell. Y'all aren’t welcome here just because I'm not interacting with the arguments. This is a safe space for everyone, provided you don’t make it unsafe for anyone else.

sm love for the ppl here theatre passionate abt d2 like I am. y’all are great, keep posting

Destiny stuff,

I'm a casual player, have been going for about 3 years now. I'm a solar titan main. Dredgen, not masochistic enough to have it gilded (I can’t spell shh)

My favorite character is drifter, woah big shocker. I'm still learning the game lore and such, so at the moment he's the only character I've actually gone in-depth reading about.

My other favorites are saint-14, saladin, shaxx, osiris, eido, holiday, and ofc ghost.

Expect my posts to mostly be about them.

This isn't a ship blog, though I may reblog ship content occasionally. I don't have any I particularly care for, aside from O14, but to me they're different because it's canon. Again, asks are open if you want to hear me talk about a specific ship.

I have been asked specifically about drifteris because I post sm about Drifter, and no I'm not a drifteris shipper. I read their relationship as platonic, and if I post about both of 'em it's not a shipping thing. I'm glad the ship brings more attention to the characters, though.

Fanart & fics,

I'll be honest, I've written a few short pieces of my yw. I don't plan on posting them, and even if I do I'm not sure that I'll connect them to this blog in any way. that's a question for future me, whether that's tomorrow or years from now.

updating this bc I’ve been doing more lately— you can repost my fanart, just credit and tell me. I would prefer it stay on tumblr tho for ai protection purposes, though.

I don't sit and vet all every account I reblog, so if I reblog something stolen or just uncredited let me know and I'll tag the artist.

If you have m/m or m/neutral (or just platonic) fic recommendations feel free to send em over. Gotta have something to keep me occupied.

Tagging system?

I've never made one of these before. I don't think I have the time to go through all of my previous posts and set them up with this, but from now on the structure will be:

#dredgenposting - all of my destiny-related rambling, because I don't want to fill the destiny 2 tag with my post spam.

#reblogs

#mild nsft - probably just sex jokes

#nsft - probably won't be used, but leaving it here in case it is so that I'm not coming back again to edit this

#discourse - not sure how much this will be used, but I'm bound to have a public opinion on something eventually

#my fanart - my own fanart

#asks

if there's something you'd like tagged to filter in/out while looking through my blog, lmk. chances are I'm fine with incorporating it.

and that's it. thanks for reading, live long and prosper y'all.

[auvpbowman]

Story Time!

I was in a Facebook group that is supposed to be for self care tips (your girl has depression). Anyway I got tired of seeing SO MANY POSTS that had nothing to do with self care, especially Christian-centric posts (your girl is a pagan). Like I’m sorry but is Jesus Christ going to wash my coochie for me? No I don’t think so, so why is he in a self care group?

Before I continue I have no problem with christians. What I do have a problem with is their religion being shoved down my throat especially in places where it isn’t even remotely relevant or is completely unprovoked. If religion comes up in the conversation, I will chat about it all day. But I’m not trying to see Bible quotes while trying to find self care tips.

Back to the story. Anyway, after the 7th irrelevant post in this self care group I decided to comment “I’m sorry. I’m confused. What does this have to do with Self care? That post happened to be a Christian based post (I’ll provide a picture of the post). I did not comment about it being religious or anything, just that I wasn’t sure how it was relevant to the group.

The post:

Some lady (not the one who made the post) decided to comment and say “It’s not a religious post! It’s a faith based post. Some people use religion as self care!” And she went on a whole spew about how I needed to get over it and she at least seemed very passive aggressive. Which 1st off, “faith based” is still religious… and she also continued to say that religion is often a part of people’s self care which is admitting that the post was religious. (Correct me if I’m wrong). Secondly, I never said it was religious. Someone else in a completely separate comment said it was, but why do you have to come at me sideways? I just stated that I was confused! Now she is correct, LOTS of people do use religion as part of their self care and that’s perfectly fine. I don’t have a problem with that. But what does that specific post have to do with self care?

I explained to her that I never said it was religious, just that I didn’t understand how the post was relevant. I then responded to the girl who did point out that it was religious in a different comment and said I agree, seeing a bunch of religious posts in the group does get tiring and also that I had a feeling if I made a pagan centric post it would not be received as welcoming as the Christian posts do.

The lady commented back, going on another tirade about how I was wrong and then decided to point out that I responded to someone else. She then also went off about how it wasn’t a Christian post because anyone can change the names of god and Satan to match their beliefs. (I don’t understand her logic.) I then pointed out that Satan and god are Christian deities. She argued with me about that and then I said “you’re right I’m sorry. I believe the Jewish community also has Satan.” (I have no idea if that’s factually correct but she accepted that answer.) The ended up removing from the group though. (Not sure why, but I’m guessing it’s because I pointed out that the post wasn’t relevant.)

Anyway I decided to make my own self care group but it doubles as an adulting 101 group where we can all trade hacks, self care tips, and teach each other how to adult but without having religion of any kind be shoved down our throats. Religion as a whole is not banned from the group but making a religion only post is. For example: posting a Bible verse, no. Talking about how you incorporate your religion into your self care to share with others in your religion, YES! Discussing religion in the comments: yes!

I just hate it when posts in groups have NO relevance to the actual group. Anyway if you want to join my group, you can! I just made it this morning tho so not a lot of people! (I can’t post the URL for some reason so I’ll post a screenshot of the actual page itself)

[westernjaguar]

THE JAGUAR RETURNS

Hey… long time no talk. 

Sorry for falling off the face of the earth… but it was kinda easy to fall off the face of the earth when you last heard from me…

I don’t know how deep to go into it because frankly I don’t know how much anyone really cares about the details of the past 2 years of radio silence. The reality is though when the pandemic hit it changed a lot of things for everyone, and a casualty of that in my life became this project. 

If you don’t want the long story, just skip to the final couple paragraphs… but if you do want to know a little more… welp, here we go. 

I started recording music for Western Jaguar in 2012 at an undoubtedly low point in my life. At that time, Western Jaguar became the rallying point to get me back on track. It gave me purpose, meaning and an outlet for everything I was feeling. It served a huge role in my identity. It became my identity to a lot of people. 

However, over time, year after year, Western Jaguar morphed into something different from that. I began to treat it like a job or a business endeavour. I began to fixate on things outside of just making music that made me feel good. I fixated on likes, a following, positive feedback… essentially I became hyper focused on making music other people liked. The saddest part of it all is it took a pandemic for me to realize that shift had occurred. 

With the arrival of the pandemic in 2020, initial adaptations were made to stay relevant but it became very hard, very quick. Files were sent over Dropbox, meetings were held online, plans were made but really nothing was concrete because none of us knew what was coming in the days ahead. It truly was a halt. I wanted to keep creating but I just couldn’t. Too many distractions, too much detachment from what had become comfortable and a growing realization that I had stopped making music for myself. Now, with no easy way to get in front of people… no instant feedback… my drive was gone. 

It’s tough to look at yourself in the mirror and realize that something that had been so sacred and so important to you had become a shadow of itself. That’s how I felt about Western Jaguar at the end of 2020. It had turned into something I didn’t want to do anymore and to be blunt, I saw an easy way out. A way to go another direction and try new things without anyone questioning why things suddenly halted. It was a perfect opportunity. Blame the pandemic and disappear.

I tucked music away in my mind. I sold off some things that I didn’t think I would need anymore and put my guitars away in their cases. I can honestly say I didn’t pick up a guitar, play a piano or hit a drum for about 18 months

I did other things though. I became absorbed in my work, I explored new hobbies and dove deep into them. I got married and was enjoying everything that came with that. I wasn’t missing music. I was getting my stress out in new ways and rarely thought about my instruments collecting dusk under my bed… but I guess I didn’t realize how much I needed music until I hit another low. And that low hit hard.

A few things happened at the end of this 18 month period that changed things for me and honestly I think without these big moments I would still be away from music. But just like the pandemic pushed me away, these events pulled me back in. 

Essentially, I got sick. Really sick. Enough so that I couldn’t go to work. Shortly after, I got injured… enough so that I couldn’t do any of the physical things I had been doing to de-stress. So, it’s June 2022 and I felt stuck. I felt like I was going through the motions. I felt trapped in myself due to everything that had happened and I was searching for something to ground myself. I needed an escape, an outlet… that’s when it clicked in my brain… What had helped me before when I was at my lowest? Music.

So I gave it a try. I dug out my guitars, pedals, mics and most importantly my hard drive and began pouring through all my old ideas and demos. Upon listening, I found myself drawn in. I had fresh ears, fresh perspective and most of all, it wasn’t forced. There was no need to do this again. I had severed all connections to the musical persona I had before. There was no pressure to go back. I could be whatever I wanted to be. I could do whatever I wanted to do. It was a fresh start, a new beginning. 

It took me a while to fully dive back in. It was tentative. I was a kid dipping his toe in the pool, afraid he’d forgotten how to swim since the last time he’d gone in. But slowly and surely I found it. I flexed a muscle that hadn’t been flexed in nearly 2 years and it flooded back like a wave. By October of 2022 I had completed demos for about 10 new tracks… but I knew I needed some help to get them over the line… 

The reality of Western Jaguar is that over time, it became more than just me. It’s become a family almost and a part of me still feels bad about this aspect of how I walked away. I wasn’t just walking away from myself. There were other people involved and engaged in this that were victims of my detachment. It would have been easy for them to be discouraged or upset when I mentioned my reawakening but their reactions couldn’t have been farther from that. They were encouraging. They were excited. They were willing to help. That meant a lot. 

From November 2022 through to February 2023, I recorded primarily at my house, with my new freedom and conviction. I recorded 7 tracks to completion (and brought back 2 songs never fully released properly to the table) for a total of 9. All these songs were drastically different, especially those that were recorded before this long hibernation, but in a way, that felt right. In the beginning, I never wrote songs to fit together perfectly or sit in a mould, I wrote songs because I liked writing songs… and the fact none of these fit together perfectly signalled to me that I was on the right track again. I was being true to myself. 

Over the past couple months I have been working closely with former bassman Davis Zand to get these songs polished and finished. I hadn’t seen Davis in person for over 18 months when I arrived at his studio space just after Christmas of 2022, and we had rarely talked over the course of that time but he welcomed me like I had just hung with him the day prior. That also meant a lot. He’s been working hard with me on this and I am truly grateful for it. He’s made these songs better. It reminded me that doing it authentic to myself doesn’t mean excluding others from the process. It’s just about doing it with the right people. 

I also had a song that really needed a sick guitar line to pull it together and I knew who to call. I tapped KC Roces on the shoulder and he said, “yes” before I could even explain what I was going for. Another true friend. (The part is sick by the way)

But all of this stuff leads us to right now. Right now, I am excited about what’s been created. I am excited about being excited again and I am hopefully I have learned something valuable in this whole tumultuous journey. Not only about what music truly means to me, but also about who I truly am. I don’t know exactly what that is yet, but I think I just need to continue progressing day by day to find it…

I guess what I’m saying is,  thank you. Truly you care about this project and this music which is so wild. I rediscovered myself in making this new record. I can see myself as that 20 year old kid in his bedroom making music through a $30 condenser microphone again. It’s humbling to think about the gap in knowledge I had between then and now… but what I feel jealous of is the naivety. No expectations. No preconceived notions. Just making art for the sake of it. I tried hard to pull back into that feeling as much as I could. 

So ya, this is just me at 30. I like it and that’s really all that matters. 

New song coming in 2 weeks. 

PRE-SAVE IT NOW: https://distrokid.com/hyperfollow/westernjaguar/better-daze

Western Jaguar Forever

JT 

[aspecpplarebeautiful]

hi i hope this is okay to send, it’s pretty venty so sorry about that

i had a dream that left me kinda lonely and questioning things. it was a weird dream tbh but i was married in it and that’s the detail that’s relevant here lol. i’m aroace and never had a crush on anyone but sometimes i crave romance so bad. but i can’t tell if i really want it or if i just think i do because it’s what i’m ‘supposed’ to want. sometimes i’ll read a romance book or play a dating sim and wish i could have that. maybe i’m confused because i don’t have friends (not exaggeration, i live with my parents and only talk to them and my brother) and my feelings are getting all mixed up. i don’t understand my own feelings, how am i supposed to tell what i actually want

Yeah, it can be hard to tell, sometimes. I wouldn't concern myself too much with the dream itself, dreams can be more confusing than helpful when trying to figure things out. But it does sound like you are lonely, and dealing with that loneliness would probably be a good first step. Making friends can be legitimately hard for some people, but it is a skill you can improve at like anything else. So remember that if you're having trouble now, it doesn't mean you always will.

Two resources that may help are online guides or talking to a therapist (or both). Helping people with loneliness and getting better at meeting people and connecting to people is absolutely something therapists do as well. The other thing that helps a lot is just putting yourself in situations where you'll be around people and interacting with them. Maybe it's time to try out a new hobby that gets you around people like taking an acting class or learning a new language. Maybe there's a hobby you already like like a knitting group or checking out if your local library has a book club (if these interest you) or an ace/aro or LGBTQ chapter in your area you want to check out. Online friends count too, so maybe join a discord based around an interest. And don't be afraid to talk to people, or if you're talking to someone a lot and like them, asking them if they want to grab a coffee sometime or something similar.

Once you're in a place where you aren't so lonely, it may be easier to gauge if you're happy with this or you want another type of relationship. It's OK to try out different types of relationships and see how you like them. So that could include QPRs or romances. Sometimes we find we like the idea in theory more than the practice, but sometimes we do find relationships we find fulfilling and are happy to be in them.

But yeah, just take it one step at a time, Anon. And keep trying to move forward, even if you have a setback.

All the best and good luck!

[weirdmageddon]

five years too late let’s analyze this. the commentary has gotten me back into gravity falls reigniting thoughts and insights i came to years ago

i love everything about this commentary in general it hits the points of humor, genuine analysis of the characters, but most of all im so glad hirsch addressed that the droid not detecting any fear from dipper here doesnt make any scientific sense because that was a massive CinemaSins moment for me

IDK the fact that dipper can fucking stand after an airship crash because theres a bigger threat at hand is literally one of the defining capabilities owed to adrenaline lol...... IM SORRY im a biopsychology student if i dont point that out iwill seethe and die because that was just . its a grudge ive held for a long time about this episode but didnt rant about because it was something so minor and i’m sure nobody would care.

i was 13 when this episode came out and i’m almost 19 now, i had a special interest in biology and i still do but now i’m actually having college classes in biopsychology so i can give my arguments more oomph now. and i have to say, now that i know more about the brain and autonomic nervous system the more this scene bugs me, if that was even possible. and it says a lot of dipper and ford’s relationship.

if dipper clearly wasnt calm before, why would he be now just because he’s put up an outwardly confident facade? before he was in the flight but now hes in the fight. my boy just rode on top of a spaceship by nothing but a magnet gun that could detach at any time if it failed and then the ship crashed, he sustained injuries, is in emotional turmoil because he thinks his uncle is Fucking Dead and the threat of a security droid that detects adrenaline is on his tail and produces a Big Fucking Gun in response to dipper saying “i hAvE a MaGNeT gUn” and hes screaming and has his teeth clenched but sure there’s no adrenaline coursing through his body in that moment i can totally believe that

when dipper asks what happened, ford says “the orb didn’t detect any chemical signs of fear, it assumed the threat was neutralized and self-disassembled” but i don’t think measuring someone’s heartbeat alone is particularly relevant in detecting ... chemical signs of fear?? they dont really tell you this shit but noradrenaline (and maybe adrenaline too if the acetylcholine from sympathetic outflow always activates the adrenal medulla??, theres two pathways) is always active in small quantities to make sure your parasympathetic nervous system doesnt slow your heart to dangerous levels on its own, regardless of your emotions. it’s just a homeostatic mechanism. your sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems are CONSTANTLY modulating control of your organs on a see-saw, literally with every breath you take. simply standing upright causes specialized mechanoreceptor neurons in blood vessels to signal your brain to project signals to release catecholamines via the sympathetic nervous system to constrict your blood vessels so that blood is able to reach your brain and not pool in your legs. i have a deficiency in my body’s ability to adapt to this which is why i know so much about it. if i stand up my heart races to compensate. i’m not feeling fear, my body is just adjusting—albeit grossly and incompetently lol.

but what im saying here is that the security system is flawed. it’s a cool idea to have security droids detect fear, but in practice by detecting adrenaline, and not even directly by detecting the molecule itself—it’s done in a roundabout way by reading the heartbeat, could be a recipe for false alarms. like what if someone’s on beta-blockers. that’s not really an adequate way to measure “fear”; there’s so many variables that could interfere with the measurement the farther you abstract from what you’re really trying to detect. and besides, adrenaline is NOT just a sign of fear, it’s just for preparing the body for action. i know the sympathetic nervous system and adrenaline is constantly linked with the “fight-or-flight” reaponse to a stressor, but 99.9% of the time the sympathetic nervous system is used in your life is to balance out your parasympathetic nervous system to maintain homeostatic equilibrium for mundane things.

i think detecting amygdalar activation would be more efficient in detecting fear. the amygdala sends projections to the hypothalamus which then in turn modulates the autonomic nervous systems. but the amygdala is intensely activated specifically in response to a fear-inducing stimulus (it does activate in response to other emotions but they’re mostly negative and is most activated by startle and fear), and wouldnt be highly activated by many other confounding variables like measurement of the heartbeat could be. the amygala is one of the first stops directly from external stimuli.

to show you how integrated the amygdala is as the first step in registering fear after receiving input from sensory stimuli let’s look at the auditory-amygdala connection for example

see how the auditory thalamus projects to the primary auditory cortex and auditory association cortex? the cortex is where conscious awareness of what the stimuli is comes from. this is the “high road”. it goes sensing -> perception -> emotional response. but sometimes you can be startled without even processing what it is you’re sensing, like the startle response of an alarm or a phone ringing in a quiet house before you even register what it is. this goes sensing -> emotional response, without perception happening until after you’ve already felt the startle. that’s when it takes the “low road”. here’s a simplified version:

even if that were the case with these droids though it’s obvious dipper is still fearful on some level here. his body language, voice, expressions all give it away. for the amygdala, aggression isnt too off from fear so it would be detected equally.

the reason this is so important is because ford uses this as evidence for why dipper is special, “i did it?” “you did it. this is what i was talking about, how many 12 year olds do you think are capable of doing what you’ve just done?”

but like....did he really? i’m not saying this to shoot dipper down or make him out to be more of a wuss, he was incredibly strong-willed here and i dont want to take that away from him because it WAS growth on his part. but the underlying psychophysiological reactions of aggression and fear shouldn’t be that different and this was a total asspull. maybe the droid was so old that it fucked up. maybe dipper being covered in grime and dirt made it harder for the droid to measure the correct heart rate through photoplethysmography (im assuming since they use a camera and are non-contact).

and in all honesty everything i just said brings into question the interpersonal healthiness of ford’s judgements, what he thinks, his expectations, and how he communicates that. in this video alex already talks about how ford is projecting onto dipper. and i think ford may be projecting his expectations for himself onto people who are not him, and the fact that it’s on dipper here makes it far more unfortunate. you realize how much this boy idolizes ford, right? how much impressions matter? dipper even tells himself before he leaves in this same episode, “all right dipper, this is your first big mission with great uncle ford. don’t mess this up.”

even though it’s unstated, the implicit message dipper is perceiving from ford based on their dynamic is: “do you have what it takes for me to be proud of you?” and to accomplish this he must be like ford, even though he’s clearly not and he knows this. he says “i don’t think have what it takes. i was tricked by bill, i was wrong about stan’s portal, heck, i can’t even operate this magnet gun right.” then, by simple chance without even knowing what he did, he activates the magnet gun and pulls out the adhesive, which immediately takes the focus away from what dipper was telling ford about his feelings of inadequacy to ford saying, “yes! dipper, you found the adhesive!”

these thoughts of dipper’s hang in the air without resolve or comment from ford. we don’t know what ford would have said. but it then becomes painfully self-evident in the scene immediately after when the droids emerge and ford tells dipper, “they’re security droids and they detect adrenaline. you simply have to not feel any fear and they won’t see you”, to which dipper replies with an exasperated (and rightful) “WHAT?”

dipper goes in a panic trying to indirectly tell his uncle that this isn’t something he can do. and he is completely right and valid to be freaked out by that full stop. that IS crazy. you can’t control your fear. you can control how you interpret that fear in your higher brain regions but the physiological changes will stick around for longer than it takes to cognitively calm down. it’s easy for me to detach from my emotions to analyze them, but being able to do this does not come naturally for everyone. even i have an irrational fear of wasps and i can’t control it by detaching myself, my body is just automatically primed to get the fuck out of there. i know it’s stupid and i know it’s irrational and isn’t helpful to get myself worked up but i literally can’t stop how my body reacts no matter how i cognitively think about it. expecting composure from dipper in a situation like this when he’s being made to consciously be aware of his anxiety is absolutely fucking insane. look what you did, placing these cruel expectations on him, now he’s afraid of being afraid! this isn’t a case where two wrongs cancel out, they just stack on top of each other.

there’s a good reason these scenes were put side by side but it seems up until now it had remained unanalyzed.

what dipper fears from ford is disappointment. not living up to his uncle’s (quite frankly badly placed) expectations for a twelve year old with anxiety. not once did ford say or subliminally communicate “i don’t expect you to be able to do what i can since you are not as experienced as i am and that’s perfectly okay, no judgements”. you don’t put a child on bike before training wheels. you don’t throw a kid into a swimming pool without giving them swimming lessons. the way ford is doing it, there’s no room for trial and error or mistakes that are an opportunity to grow and learn; instead, it’s life or death. he only seems to pride dipper on what he can do while ignoring the underlying struggles that plague him and never making it known it’s okay for dipper to fail in front of his hero and that he won’t think anything less of him for it.

and that’s why i found the ending scene for dipper and ford’s adventure in this episode to feel so.. wrong. on a scientific and social level. because by the sound of it ford focused more on what dipper had done to dismantle the droid (the droid not detecting any fear) instead of how dipper displayed love and protection for him even if he was truly afraid. what if the science was accurate and the droid detected adrenaline while dipper was confidently standing up for his uncle. would ford still be proud of him regardless?

[leviiattacks]

Head canons for mafia boss levi being interested in Starbucks barista reader please

note :: this idea is so cute i wrote a scenario i hope you don’t mind. i can still post some headcanons for it too if you really want me to! i’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted me to write anon :-( ALSO this is super casual writing it’s not like the way i usually write it’s just bullet points i mean idk i wanted to try something different and more relaxed lmk if this style is okay for some requests :D

if anyone would like any more requests with this levi please lmk!! i could go in more detail tbh maybe the pacing of this isn’t too good bc it is a short request but yeahhh

+ idk why the formatting looks so odd i tried my best to fix it myself ?!.!/!:£:& but yeah sorry again!!

levi has always been one to keep his business meetings lowkey

i mean, realistically who is going to suspect mafia boss levi is lingering in a starbucks???

the place is well-suited for his hushed meetings, he finds it to be quiet enough and clean enough

but then one winter everything changes

you start working there

he’s waiting in the queue texting erwin asking when he’ll be able to get there

it’s been a RUSH and the traffic is crazy as expected from the bustling city so he doesn’t expect to see erwin for a while

that’s when he hears you for the first time

“HEY!! Mister in the fancy suit it’s your turn to order”

your hands are placed on the counter and you lean forward eagerly waiting for what he has to say

levi rolls his eyes because he thinks you have to be ogling his designer watch and shoes (you really aren’t)

“black tea, no sugar and... a cinnamon swirl” he’ll order for erwin later. “i’ll be eating in.”

“ooohhh you’re a tea guy? name?” you’re smiling at him radiantly and it irks him because you have nothing to be smiling about really

eyes narrowing he responds “no shit, i just ordered tea.”

“and why the hell do you want my name?” he snaps on reflex

he then remembers he’s at a starbucks and you are not interrogating him, you’re doing your job

“sir... this is starbucks?? is this your first time here?”

you blink in confusion but then your face lights up “oh my, would you like to sign up for a starbucks card?? you can collect stars and get rewards and it’s so muc–“

“do i look like i need a starbucks card?”

“everyone looks like they need a starbucks card”

he doesn’t carry on that part of your conversation instead he looks you dead in the eyes “levi, is my name.”

his glare intimidates you and you awkwardly laugh

you think he’s probably having a super bad day and choose to not bother him that much

as he’s waiting he sees the way you clumsily navigate behind the counter, you’re juggling a number of things in your arms

automatically his face sours

he’s not expecting the tea you produce to be any good

he doesn’t care how nice you are if you can’t do what he wants he won’t be leaving a tip

he’s stingy like that

a clatter is heard and all the noise you’re making just makes you all the more aggravating

he’s been coming here for years and never has encountered a barista as bothersome as yourself

at some point you call out the name “SCROOGE!” from behind the counter, levi finds it embarrassing that anyone would ever call their child that

like... out of all the names this is what they choose??

damn they have to hate parenthood

“scrooge i’m begging you collect your drink.”

he looks up pissed that whoever this scrooge is has the audacity to hold you up because that by default means they are holding him up

then he sees you staring directly at him with that warm smile again

yeah, that smile, it could thaw ice

then it settles.

he’s scrooge?

turning around he notices no one is behind him then he sees that no one else is waiting apart from him

jaw clenching he heads towards you and makes it a point to “tsk” in frustration

he takes his cup and his cinnamon roll and you wave him goodbye

usually levi prefers to silently sit in the booth furthest from the action, he wants no attention drawn to him at all

but that day he finds himself sitting closer to the counter

he’s kind of stunned when he does that because he’s just sat there thinking why the hell did i just do that?? why did i sit here??

but he convinces himself it’s because he wants to see erwin when he’s about to walk in so he can prepare to scold him for not arriving on time

he takes a sip of his beverage expecting nothing above mediocirty but weirdly, your brew, it tastes perfect

levi’s eyes linger on you and he notices the way your behaviour is consistent

you’re helping an old woman pick what she’d like from the menu

you compliment her jumper, says it really makes her blue eyes stand out

you don’t have to be as nice as you are and it’s ticking him off

it ticks him off seeing someone so pure and sweet for no reason

when did people decide to not have ulterior motives anymore? did you decide those were too old school for you?

tongue poking at the inside of his cheek he activates his poker face and looks away

you, are a random person. a random, annoying person. he is going to stop thinking about you.

turning his attention to erwin instead he calls him and when he picks up levi makes his point very clear

“i was just called scrooge. get the hell here so i can order for you.”

erwin chuckles, his throaty laugh makes levi’s mouth twitch downwards in irritation

“and who exactly called you scrooge?”

“is that relevant?”

“very much so if you’ve mentioned it yourself”

levi is silent and erwin laughs once again at his colleagues anti social way of interacting

“i’ll be there in five, feel free to order.”

grunting a sound of approval levi hangs up

“you’re back! how may i help?”

the way you treat being a barista so seriously, he finds it oddly endearing

“one doubleshot iced coffee.”

nodding to yourself you hum a tune happily and get to work

ever since that day levi finds himself frequenting that specific starbucks more

at first it’s a whole lot of “i’m pissed and i don’t have a reason so i’ll go down there and have her annoy me, then i’ll have a real reason”

then you talk to him more and you both engage in small talk

then it develops when he doesn’t mean for it to

you tell him about what you study, where you’re from, how your mother has recently developed arthritis but she’s still so determined to cook to the best of her abilities despite the pain

that reminds him of you

each visit he learns something new about you

sometimes he’ll let you in on his life

“what do you work as, i’ve always wondered?“

“accountant.“ no way in hell is he going to scare you away, telling you isn’t an option

you burst out in laughter holding your knees

“accountancy is well paying what is your point...?”

“do you not know what that means” your laugh is muffled as you press the sleeve of your jumper against your mouth

he shakes his head completely clueless

“people say their accountants when they’re actually strippers. it’s a tiktok thing.”

you pause for a second staring at his face

he feels the way his ears grow red under your gaze but he ignores it looking as bored as ever

“ah well. i did not know that.”

“clearly not you are an old man.”

then you turn away to brew his tea and he lets the ghost of a smile sneak its way onto his face

you aren’t looking, it’s okay

but he knows it’s dangerous getting attached to you

it’s stupid relaxing

and it’s even worse loosening up

so he doesn’t.

he’s always cold, bitter and frigid in his responses as he’s always been with you

but that doesn’t stop you from kindly smiling

or absentmindedly brushing the surface of his skin on rare occasions

it doesn’t stop you from calling him scrooge

and it certainly doesn’t stop you from slowly thawing the frosty exterior of his heart

then one day you let the words “my scrooge” slip out of your mouth

he doesn’t know why he let’s it happen or even how it happens exactly but he can’t help the smile that makes itself evident on his face

“HEY YOU JUST SMILED HELLO?????? you can do THAT????”

he smiled in front of you, that’s it he’s fucked

he quickly drops it and is back to his normal narrowed glare

“i did no such thing”

you give him a knowing look but sigh airily there’s no point in getting the man to admit it

“what would you like today, a frappe?”

you ask the sarcastic question even though you know he hates change. his usual order is already ingrained in your mind. you know it off by heart

he sighs in exasperation

“is your memory really that bad?”

“nope. cinnamon rolls and black tea it is!”

[bookofmirth]

I saw your recent response to an anon where you mentioned the drama that occurred the other day based around bookprofessor’s post. Obviously you don’t have to respond to this or publish it if you do not wish but I just wanted to bring up that while it is important to focus on the real life issues at hand, the OP was hypocritical in her post which is why people were getting upset. She was preaching against ableism while simultaneously flaunting her IQ and degree which is a form of ableism. She was speaking out against racism while ending her post using the racial slur “cracker” when talking about the possibly Caucasian Twitter elriels.

Obviously she had some important points but it was completely overshadowed by her participation in the hate speech and prejudice that she was speaking out against.

This does not in any way justify the nasty messages she received but on the same hand, I do not blame anyone that called her out for her hypocrisy. I hope you can understand why her post was so negatively received and how flawed it was. My hope is that one day everyone can just ignore the negativity, report those who are being racist/prejudiced in any way, and block those who are just being loud and who you don’t wish to see content from. But unfortunately I do not see that happening any time soon.

There are a few things I want to address in this because I think it's a good moment for the fandom to step back and reflect on how we treat one another, how we react to such issues, and how we behave moving forward.

First off, thanks for explaining your point of view without being antagonistic. I do think that everyone's emotional reactions to the post were valid. I do NOT think their responses, in terms of words and actions, were valid. Now before I move forward, I want to clarify that when I use the word "you", I am referring to anyone who may have had the response I am describing - not you personally, anon. Also please don’t freak out about how long this is, as a majority of it is a response to the fandom in general, not you in particular.

What was - and wasn’t - said in the original post

In this post, there were completely valid criticisms of the way that people in this fandom behave, and it wasn’t “generalizing” a certain group, it was literal, actual proof of things that had been said, by multiple people. I’m not going to get too into what Alyssa argued because her critiques of those tweets was flawless. The original post had very valid criticisms of what was happening on Twitter. Alyssa exposed the actually racist, homophobic, and imperialistic underpinnings of those tweets.

However, a lot of people are stuck on the bits before and after those critiques. @bookprofessor apologized for different aspects of her post in a few different asks. There were perhaps better ways that some of those things could have been phrased, some things that could have been left out. And she apologized. People can accept that apology or not but we can’t act like it didn’t happen. Like she didn’t reflect and learn to do better.

However, the people she was calling out have not done the same thing, and if anything, comments that focus more on Alyssa’s tone than why she wrote the post in the first place lets those people off the hook.

On cracker - Using the word "cracker" is not racist in the same way that using racial slurs against POC is. Is it prejudiced? Yes. But you cannot say that it is the same thing when that is demonstrably untrue, given centuries of oppressive history. No one has been oppressed for being white. Those are not the same. Reverse racism is not a thing because a white person punching down on POC is NOT AT ALL the same thing as a POC punching up at white people. The actions look the same, but the impact is so unequal it’s not even funny.

Racism is a systemic, institutionalized problem. It is not defined by individual actions, though those actions can either support or challenge racism. When someone calls a white person a cracker, there isn’t centuries of oppression giving power to and reinforcing that statement. That is not a “gotcha” moment.

Saying “I have x IQ” or “I have X degrees” is not ableist. I’m sorry to whoever told you it was ableist (again, not you specifically anon but people who had read the “aw shucks guys” vagueblogs about it), but it’s not. Those are facts. I have no idea what my IQ is, but I have five degrees from institutions of higher education. Me saying that is in no way ableist. 

Often, people mention those things to be elitist, yes. Sometimes, they can be used to say “hey I know more about this than you”. They can be used in a way that tries to make themselves feel superior. I suspect that this is the impression that a lot of people got of the post. However, there is a fine line between saying “hey that’s elitist” and professing anti intellectualism. Which is perhaps a side issue so I’ll let that go for now.

Another reason that people mention their degrees or qualifications is to establish their background knowledge and credibility. If I were to say “hey y’all I have two MA degrees” (which is true) I am not being ableist! It is a fact! It is factual! And I worked my ass off for those, I will be in student loan debt until I die for those, I have every right to mention them if I want to, and often I do so in order to establish my credibility, to explain the position I am coming from. And my prior knowledge of these topics is relevant when we are talking about literature since that’s what my degrees were on - literature and linguistics. That is why Alyssa mentioned her background, though she did pair it with comments about other people, for which she has apologized.

My final point about this is that I 1000% understand feeling insecure or less than because of educational attainment. I dropped out of high school. I had a complex about that for a long, long time. But I also know that if I took offense at someone else saying they had a PhD, then that offense is about me, not them. Someone else’s inferiority complex is not reason for people to pretend to be less than they are.

If those two comments are what overshadowed the bigger, more important issue for a lot of the readers of that post, then y’all allowed them to overshadow those more important issues. I am 99% sure that someone right now is reading this and thinking “but Leslie, it was the way that she said it!” Boy have I got some news for you!

How we react

This next section is not specific to this ask; instead, it is a discussion of how the fandom responded. If it were only one person who had said “but her tone” then I wouldn’t need to make this point. The fact that multiple people are exhibiting the behavior explained below is what makes this a cultural problem within the acotar fandom.

The main argument I saw on the post itself, and indeed any time I see people bring up how nasty Twitter can be, is that “it was a joke” and “that’s how stan Twitter works”.

No.

Those responses were quite useful for this post, though! So buckle up everyone, because I am going to talk about gaslighting, racism, respectability politics, and tone policing. While I understand that some people might have taken personal offense to what was said, there is a much bigger issue at stake that has nothing to do with individual feelings, and everything to do with ensuring that POC stay silenced and white supremacy is upheld. 

Back to the “but it’s a joke” thing. Thanks for gaslighting! Great example of that, person I’m not going to tag! Gaslighting is when you make someone question their experiences, when you try to make them think “wait, did I really feel that way? Is my feeling about that valid? Do I need to re-evaluate my response to this?? Am I blowing this out of proportion???” And saying “it’s just a joke” is a perfect way to do that. Did I say something accidentally sexist? It’s just a joke, nbd! Now you’re the problem, because you didn’t understand my joke and laugh!!! 

Saying “it’s a joke” or “oh they are old/young/ignorant, they will learn” is not a good response to... anything. It takes the responsibility off the people who are doing the harm, and putting it onto the people who were hurt. And in this case, anyone who read those tweets and found them harmful (which should be everyone?) is completely valid. You aren’t lesser for being angry or emotional or for seeing a problem where other people saw a joke. The people who see those things as acceptable jokes are the ones in the wrong.

This is a tactic that is used against women all the time. Any time a woman is sexually harassed at work or online, for example, and she gets upset about it, and someone chimes in with “oh they weren’t serious, can’t you take a joke?” So you can imagine what this is like for women of color.

It is a very, very common tactic for people of color to be silenced via tone policing and respectability politics. Tone policing and respectability politics are very closely related, especially in this context. The idea is that if Alyssa had just written that post in just the right way, it would have been more palatable to white people, and therefore okay to write. The idea that if she had tried to be “understanding” or “see it from their perspective” or understand that it’s “just a joke” are all ways to silence and de-legitimize any accurate, valid criticisms that were made of those tweets. It effectively re-routes the conversation away from the real issues, and to the person trying to bring them up. It’s essentially an ad hominem attack in disguise. 

We see respectability politics in media when people of color who act or dress or speak like white people are afforded more respect. Or any time that a person of color is pulled over and people say, “well if they had just done what the police officer asked...” There is a pervasive idea that if people just “act” properly, aka if you act white, then the police won’t feel antagonized and try to kill arrest you. If we are nice enough, meek enough, smile enough, etc. then we will be accepted.

When we tone police, we refuse to allow marginalized people the right to be angry. We say that "hey, we can only have this discussion if you leave emotion, which you rightfully feel, at the door, and we can only continue this discussion if you behave in a way that makes me feel comfortable." But guess what? It isn’t about you! These discussions are often highly uncomfortable. There is no nice way to tell someone they are being racist. And yet somehow, that is the ever-moving goalpost. It seems reasonable, right? “Just be civil, be nice, don’t insult each other!” And there is that. But those criteria change constantly, to the point where anyone (white) at any time can say “WHOA WHOA THIS IS MAKE ME UNCOMFORTABLE???” Then we find ourselves at zero, and suddenly the focus of attention has shifted away from the actual problem.

Before we go further, I want to say this: people have a right to be angry. They do not need to make their anger palatable or tasteful for the consumption of others (read: white people). 

We saw this last summer, and I’m not sure how the message didn’t get across. But people are rightfully angry about racism. They are angry about the murder of people of color by police, they are angry about lack of quality education, or clean water, of centuries of oppression that have led to this very moment when all of that ceases to matter because a white woman’s feelings got hurt one time. 

And that is what pisses me off so much. There is no way in this world that we could criticize tweets like those that everyone would agree with, and that everyone would “approve” of, that would be “nice” enough and yet still be impactful and make the authors of those tweets understand the gravity of what they have done. 

The least we can do is allow one another to express our anger, our outrage, because it’s highly likely that those people know exactly what the fuck they are doing, and they do not fucking care. By criticizing a woman of color for the way in which she chose to engage with this topic, we are avoiding the issue and letting the people in those tweets off the hook. 

There were many responses to that post that were positive, that agreed with Alyssa. There are a ton of people who disagree with those tweets, who find them disgusting, who understand exactly how and why they are problematic. That should be what we are talking about. Getting to the core of the argument, on that post or any about racism or other problematic behavior in fandom, requires getting past our own egos. It requires us to be able to step back, say “hm this thing is frustrating but there is a bigger picture here”. It’s not easy, and I recognize that. 

The fact that it is a common tactic though? To say “hey this hurt me personally and so I’m going to ignore any valid points you made?” That feeds directly into centuries of white supremacy because it, once again, silences POC and makes them try to play a losing game. And they will always lose, because no matter how hard they try to play the white game, the goalposts are constantly shifting. So you know what? Fuck the game, and fuck respectability politics, and fuck tone policing and “uwu be nice guys” because when it comes to things like racism and sexism, I don’t expect the people who deserve to be criticized to be nice. In fact, trying to be nice only serves to fuck POC over in the end.

Indeed, in response to that post, certain blogs have taken the opportunity to position themselves as “the nice ones” or “the ones who would never” or “uwu let’s be nice guys” while completely ignoring the fact that a woman of color was attacked for calling out racism. And yes - that was the point of her post. People getting hung up on mentions of her degree are (intentionally or not, it doesn’t matter) completely obfuscating the fact that that is not what her post was about, which was to call out disgusting behavior. idk how many words the post actually was, but essentially, people are focusing on 5% of it to the detriment of the 95% that was actually really important shit. These types of vagueblog posts about the issue fall into exactly what I am talking about - these are people who have decided to look at this issue, see how Alyssa (and anyone else who dares speak up) has approached it, and intentionally try to act like they are “better” because they can be “rational” and “kind”. Newsflash, if you don’t have something to be angry about, then being “nice” about racism isn’t that much of a flex. If it didn’t bother you, then congratulations. That doesn’t make you better than people it did bother. You just got lucky this time, and decided to use that to your advantage to look like the good guy.

I am not saying that all calls for peace are doing this. Obviously it’s what we all want. This is the worst I have seen this fandom in the 4+ years I’ve been here. But we cannot have that by ignoring the real problems and pretending that if we are all just nice to each other, then we will solve racism and sexism and all bullying in the fandom will stop. 

So combining all of this - the gaslighting, the tone policing, and what do you get? You get a fandom that refuses to actually engage critically with its own problems and take accountability for them. You get a fandom that decides that it’s easier to be distracted by this one mean comment over here than it is to engage in the fact that you know what, the culture in this fandom has actually turned incredibly disgusting and a lot of people are just okay with it. You’ve got a fandom that is using the tools of white supremacy to avoid the discussions that should actually be taking place. Maybe people don’t realize that that’s what they are doing. But if someone still thinks that after reading this post, then godspeed my friend, I hope you enjoy Twitter.

Okay so my last thing I want to say is that I didn’t come to all of this knowledge fresh from the womb. I do a lot of work, in my personal life and my professional life, to be better. So here is a list of books that I have found particularly helpful:

How to Be An Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi

Stamped From the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America also by Ibram X. Kendi

White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism by Robin DiAngelo (side note, I was kinda meh about this one but the chapter “White Women’s Tears” is particularly helpful)

So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo

Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment by Patricia Hill Collins

I’m not going to talk specifically about Alyssa’s post anymore, but if anyone wants to continue talking about these broader issues going on in the fandom, I am game. (I really should be grading papers though, so it might take a bit.)

[pochiperpe90]

Here comes “The Old Guard”. Marinelli goes to Hollywood, alongside Charlize Theron.

“Alone, fragile and immortal.”

A story of love, friendship and compassion with an ancient warrior and a young African American, who has just discovered she is immortal, as protagonists. Because the world needs women and courage knows no gender differences. 20 years after “Love & Basketball” and after “The Secret Life of Bees” and “Beyond the Lights - Find Your Voice”, Gina Prince-Bythewood comes to the action movie with very clear ideas on how to reinvent the rules. We talked to her over the phone while she was in Los Angeles during the lockdown. 

A superhero movie that doesn't look like a superhero movie. Is that why you decided to make it? 

Absolutely yes, when I read the script I realized that despite the fantastic genre there was a very realistic background. These characters are real and it's easy for the audience to relate to them despite being immortal. They fight for goals and reasons that people understand. The more realistic the film, the more viewers can reflect themselves in the protagonists. 

In fact, the most fascinating aspect of the characters is their vulnerability: they are immortal, but up to a certain point, which is a paradox. They too have to deal with the sense of the end. 

There is a possibility that they may die, that their immortality is interrupted, that they still suffer from their wounds, and this brings them closer to us. The public still feels sorry for them when they see them in danger.

Immortals suffer, and not just physically.

Many think that being able to live forever would be extraordinary, but no one asks what this really means. Immortality has consequences: it can be a gift, but it can also be a curse.

And we don’t know why immortality fell to them. 

The thing I loved about the graphic novel and the script is the fact that there is no explanation. Not only do we not know it, but neither do the protagonists. But it is a trilogy and therefore there is still a lot to tell.

Could you offer your contribution to the script? 

It was a great script, with great roles based on the graphic novel so I stayed very true to the text. With the author, Greg Rucka, we wanted to reflect on the fear of taking someone's life, the one that sometimes overwhelms soldiers in war, whose psychology is often neglected. Hollywood films have never been very concerned with this aspect, as if killing had no consequences. The protagonists are forced to kill, but if someone has been doing it for centuries, for others it’s the first time. 

What struck you about Luca Marinelli? 

I could talk about him for days, I love him, he's the actor that all directors dream of having on set. He loved the character and gave him life in a very credible way. Between him and Marwan Kenzari is born a great complicity, necessary between two people who have been together for centuries. Luca's eyes are full of soul, his Nicky is the heart of the group, he’s the most sensitive character of all of them. 

Charlize Theron, who is also one of the producers, has an increasingly and more torn body.

Charlize has already played roles like this one, she is very credible in the genre of action and has been helpful to who had never faced it before. From her, who really worked hard, others learned to do the same. She is very credible in the role of a woman who lived for thousands of years.

Matthias Schoenaerts, on the other hand, has an insidious role. 

He embodies the tragedy of immortality, loneliness, betrayal. He is the actor who most resembles his character in the graphic novel. He wanted to make the film at all costs because he had never measured himself with the action genre and felt he had things to express. 

The film underlines how today it’s no longer possible to hide, images can capture you at any time. 

In a scene near the end, when the immortals look at photos and articles about them, they truly become aware for the first time of everything they have done to protect humanity. They understand the power of images from which they continually try to escape in order to hide their identity. 

And then we talk about science and profit. 

In the film, people from different places join forces to protect the world, a need even more relevant today. Yet it is increasingly evident that profit matters more than human lives. 

Do you think the film industry is becoming more inclusive with women? 

Things are finally changing and I am grateful that, despite having no other action films on my resume, I have been entrusted with The Old Guard. I am grateful for the trust they have placed in me. It should be taken for granted by now that women are capable of coping with any film genre and I think how much pressure from the industry Patty Jenkins, who directed Wonder Woman to success and opening the door for many of us, went through. But the door must be wide open because there are still few who have such opportunities. 

In your opinion, have opportunities grown with the arrival of platforms like Netflix? 

Netflix wasn't afraid to trust a series of directors. Which studio would have produced Roma or Irishman? He has the courage to make films that Hollywood deems too risky.

The Golden boy

“Luca Marinelli, as we have never seen him before: in his Hollywood debut, he becomes an immortal and fights with Charlize Theron to save the world.”

Just before the lockdown he was one of the jury members of the 70th Berlinale in the city where he has lived for years - and he swears he had so much fun watching three films a day. The audience awaits him in theatre in the role of Diabolik, in the film directed by Manetti Bros., but on July 10th he arrives on Netflix with The Old Guard, the action movie that sees him alongside Charlize Theron. And where he plays the Italian Nicolo, Nicky for the group of immortals he belongs to. Directed by Gina Prince-Bythewood and based on the graphic novel by Greg Rucka and Leandro Fernández, the film offers Luca Marinelli an insidious superpower, an endless love and a new opportunity to demonstrate his talent as a true champion. We reached him on the phone and he, less shy than usual, told us how he became a secular "superhero".

How did you get to the project? 

I auditioned in London, where I later returned and met the director. Lastly, there was a final meeting between me and Marwan Kenzari. We made a scene together and then they announced to me, "We'd love for you to be Nicky." 

What struck you about this character? 

The story fascinated me because it tells of immortals as if they were the damned. Nicky and Joe live this condition as a gift because they are linked by a wonderful love story and they are not alone. They met in an absurd and paradoxical situation, during the Crusades, ready to kill themselves. They did it a hundred times and then they looked at each other and fell in love. But others suffer from it, like Andy and Booker. In a beautiful scene, Booker, played by Matthias Schoenaerts, explains what happens to them: they see the people they love die and blame them because they cannot prevent it. And they are tired of watching the world repeat itself following the same dynamics. They fight to save people, but everything seems to go on the same way. Only in the end will they discover what they have done and what they are doing. 

How did it go with Charlize Theron? 

Well, it was wonderful! As I read the script I said to myself: am I really going to make a film with Charlize Theron? And hug as well! I was very excited and intimidated already while reading. She is an extraordinary actress. In the scene where we are at the table and everyone tells Nile something about us, Andy tells her what we are and it was nice to see her running and venturing into the midst of emotions and thoughts. Sometimes I got distracted and didn't say my line. But Charlyze is also a crazy athlete. You have to be really athletes, otherwise you don't survive at the end of the day. And Charlize is an athlete of the body and the heart. 

What about her athletic training? 

We got together a month before shooting to start working with the stunts. I had to get some athleticism back: when I arrived and they looked at me I think they were a little worried. We had to become familiar with martial arts and then we switched from the sword to other weapons and to hand-to-hand combat. We prepared scene by scene, including the choreographies, different for each fight, and each of us had his own rubber reproduction of the sword. It was an unforgettable training.

The immortals come from different places in the world. How much of Italy is there in Nicky? 

Apart from the pronunciation? They still laugh at some of the things I said. Marwan and Matthias, but also Charlize, speak Italian at different levels and every now and then I enjoyed shooting a few sentences to which they could answer me. 

Did you offer your character something that wasn't in the script? 

Well, being in such a group, shy as I am ... I tried. I have always focused on the bond between Nicky, Joe and the other members of the group, because I am interested in discovering what is inside a character, his feelings, how he looks at the world, what excites him. Nicky has lived for centuries, but still greets the people he meets in the desert with a smile, inside him there is the flame of an infinite good. Each character has a different sensitivity and their own armor. Nicky is perhaps the least armored one.

The challenge was also to make people believe in a love story that has lasted for centuries. 

Marwan recites a beautiful monologue in which he talks about their love story. I hope that each of us, in their short life, can say the same thing about the person they love. 

You’ve already had superpowers in “They Call Me Jeeg”. What is your relationship with this genre? 

I like it very much and I think that both films, very different from each other, have a very interesting soul. In Jeeg Robot, Enzo Ceccotti uses his superpowers to help others, taking on a social responsibility. In The Old Guard the protagonists put themselves at the service of others, even if no one has asked them to. “This is what we do,” they repeat over and over to each other. What they do is save people, participate in what they think is right. 

How do you think they would react to protests on American streets and around the world?

I don't feel like playing games, mixing reality and fiction on a terribly real subject like this. I think that in reality, outside of any cinematic fiction, it’s fundamental to fight for equality, within society, but also within ourselves. To go back to our film, if in a microscopic way we manage to carry a message in that direction, I would be very happy. 

What director was Gina Prince-Bythewood? 

She is always ready to listen, and I am someone who asks a lot of questions even at inappropriate times. She always had great patience and was very attentive to the emotional side of the film, to the interiority and beauty of the characters.

CIAK Magazine - Luglio 2020

Just wanted to translate this old interview for the non-italian’s fans ^^ (sorry for my English)

[hotwings0203]

as ur irl bestie i am cashing in my favor and am asking- no begging for a dilf damon fic pls <3

😑fine fineee I guess I can take a quick break from writing BNHA stuff for you🙄

CW: NSFW, Damon Albarn being an a-hole, manipulation, gaslighting, language minor stuff like that

The studio itself was pretty spacious, you couldn't lie. As much as you loathed to give this cursed group any more credit, you were hard-pressed to remember the last time you´d been called into such a professional recording booth. You were used to dingy atmospheres, crumbling walls, stained carpet, and even cramped garages at times. It felt like your years of meticulously swaying your hand back and forth on the rosin and tuning your strings until they damn near popped were slowly going down the drain, lost in spaces of screaming adolescent boys and shady market agents. The streets of London were unforgiving for a young musician like you, no room to turn to since others were exactly in the same position as you.

 It was by pure coincidence that the day you had played for a local cafe for a small commission, Graham fucking Coxon was sitting in the back of the run-down joint, sipping a murky glass of Bourbon.

 You didn't notice him at first, of course. You had simply let the music in your mind travel from your head down to your arms, and allowed it to move through your fingertips to your bow. The serene melody that sang through the air had turned his head to face you, the shitty drink in his hand stopped halfway to his mouth. 

 Your solo was only a couple of minutes, but the second you were done and packing your bags to head out, the brunette made a beeline for you, blocking your exit.

 ¨Uh, can I help you?¨ You cock your head and shift your violin case.

 ¨Yes, you can actually. Listen, I know this is gonna sound a bit straightforward, but I really liked your piece. Did you compose it yourself?¨ He sounds quiet and sounds nervous, with him barely looking you in the eyes.

 ¨Yeah, I did!¨ You can´t help but beam-it took you several days just to perfect a few meager lines, but in the end you were content with the piece.

 ¨Wow...that's serious talent right there,¨ He opens the door for you, and you nod before you head out, him trailing behind you as he leaves with you.

 ¨You make a good amount of money doing small jobs like this?¨ His voice is nasally and low, but with a slightly higher pitch than your typical London accent.

 At this, you squint your eyes a bit and turn your head at him. It was nice of him to be interested in your work, but for someone you don't personally know, the idea of talking about your small gigs that merited little to no money was not something you were fond of.

 He senses your hesitancy and immediately withdraws. ¨I´m sorry, that was probably rude of me to be so blunt about it. Actually, I don´t think I´ve properly introduced myself.¨ He stops to face you, and you do the same.

 ¨I´m Graham Coxon. You may or may not have heard of me, but I can assure you that I too enjoy music, as an understatement.¨ He extends a calloused hand and smiles a little bit, adjusting the blocky glasses on his face.

 Graham...Coxon? Graham as in....oh, holy shit.

 ¨No way.¨

 ¨Er...unfortunately, yes way.¨ His soft voice lilts as he holds back a laugh, and you gape at him.

 ¨Oh my god!¨ You drop your violin case in the excitement of eagerly returning his handshake. ¨You-you're from Blur! I know you!¨

 ¨Was from Blur, and ´careful now, don´t wanna ruin your instrument. But listen, I´m kind of in a bind here so I´ll get to the chase. We´re working on a few chords here and there back at the studio, and I´ve been on the lookout for a while for someone who fits our tune. ´Thing is, the deadline for submitting our song is comin´ up fast, so we only have a couple weeks left.¨

 You raise your eyebrows, heart pounding in your chest as you listen to his proposition.

 ¨So I´m thinking, you sound pretty good, it's exactly what we need to fill in our bridge. I´d love it if you came in and played a tune for us. If we like you and you´re cool with it, you could feature on our song.¨

 It feels surreal. Were you hearing right? Graham Coxon from Blur asking you to play on his song? This had to be a prank.

 ¨Ẅait, but you've only heard me once, what if my sound doesn't match what you're actually looking for?¨ You stammer, palms clammy as you wipe them off on your trousers.

 ¨Well, that's what a rehearsal session is for, lovely,¨ He chuckles nervously and slides his slightly foggy glasses up his nose. ¨So, you wanna give it a go?¨

 You think for a moment, biting your lower lip. There wasn't exactly anything stopping you now, was there? I mean, sure, the prospect of playing in front of one of UK's most famous bands was daunting, but this was your chance to finally be recognized!

 Taking a deep breath, you pick up your fallen case and nod. ¨Alright, I´m in. When you do wanna meet up?¨

 Graham visibility deflates in relief, letting out a shaky exhale. ¨Great. I'll text you the time and place, yeah? The boys and I´ve gotta get a few more things set up, so we´ll be in contact soon.¨

You both exchange numbers, your phone tingling in your hand long after you bid farewell and drive home in a buzz.

 When you finally get home to your apartment, you throw your keys onto the counter and flop down onto the mattress. What a fucking day.

 So many thoughts bounce around in your addled head. You want to do well, but obviously you don't have their kind of experience in the industry. Should you play more in tune with their song, or continue with your own sound? An idea pops into your head amidst your lunch, a few hours later. Why not just do some more research on the band themselves? Then you'd know exactly what kind of music they're looking for.

 The boys and I´ve gotta get a few more things set up.

 Oh yeah, who else was in the band? It's not like you didn't know who Blur was at their peak, but you paid more attention to their music rather than their faces. Truthfully, you never really basked in tabloids and newspapers purring about the next big scandal, or the top dogs of Britain´s industry when that stuff was relevant.

 You abandon your pathetic sandwich and make your way to your laptop, sliding into a chair and getting down to business. After a few quick searches, you pull up a couple tabs around the name Blur.

 Graham Coxon- Recovering alcoholic. Big fight with Damon Albarn.

 Alex James- Cute boy turned conservative. Classic case.

 Dave Rowntree- Mainly untouched. Became a successful lawyer. Good for him.

 Damon Albarn- A fucking mess.

 Puffing up your cheeks and putting your hands behind your head, you lean back in your chair. Good god, this man is a wreck. Headlines from decades ago swim in and out of your eyes, loud, obnoxious neon prints of Justine and Damon broken up again? Suede claps back!, or Will the Blur Brothers ever come back to each other? Find out first-hand from Coxon himself!, and worst of all, Albarn relapses again, Damon Albarn from Blur goes head-to-head with Liam and Noel-news flash, the brothers win!

 You think you see something about him and a potential wife and child, and that's when you decide it's time to sleep.

 After all, there's no point in getting caught up in any of their backstories.You were just there to play a solo and get out. Nosing around in their lives was more trouble than what it was worth, anyways.

 Which is exactly what you kept trying to tell yourself as you walked into the modern studio two weeks later, its grey soundproof walls and white floor screaming fancy and rich to you. And fancy and rich didn't come without grit and experience, which you had none of. As if to emphasize your inexperience, you went into the wrong halls twice before you exasperatedly checked your messages with Graham and saw that no, it wasn´t room 311, it was room 113.

 Finally, finally, you came across your designated room. The mahogany door was closed, and you placed a hand on the silver knob. You could faintly hear the sounds of a guitar being played from the inside, and it was curiosity above everything else that compelled you to push it open.

 From behind the clear window that separated the booth from the recording area, you see them. Graham, Damon, and other men you don't recognize are all in the midst of the song, the same song Graham had texted you the PDF of for the violin notes. You sheepishly take a few steps forward and clear your throat to catch the attention of a bald man leaning back against his chair right in front of the glass. He turns around and you give a weak little wave, clutching your case in the other hand. 

 ¨Hey, I´m here for-¨

 ¨-Yeah, yeah, Graham told me all about you. Go on ahead and join in, they just started.¨ He pulls a toothpick out from between his lips and gestures to the door of the divider.

 You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you make your way through the second door, and the second you step inside meekly, Damon and Graham´s eyes are on you.

 Graham continues to play the guitar, only lighting up his eyes and giving you an encouraging nod when you step in, and the other two men on bass and saxophone also give a quick smile in greeting. And Damon…well.

 Damon barely acknowledges you.

 He continues to sing and stare straight ahead at the wall in front of him as if there's an interesting scene being played out on the grey paint.

 You´re unsure of whether to catch his attention and give a proper greeting, but you decide not to as it would interfere with the song. So instead, you quickly grab a nearby chair and stand and set up your rosin and papers.

 Your timing is perfect; the bridge is about to come up. Just to be certain, you look up from your poised position and catch the eyes of most everyone except for Damon´s. They all give you a quick thumbs up or an expectant look for your confirmation of playing.

 And then, it comes. Damon stops singing, and your cue to sweep your bow across the horse hairs of your strings comes.

 Melodious, whole, fulfilling, it was. Graham´s guitar chords harmonized with the tones of your violin, and music that you´ve never dreamed of creating was made by your hands exceptionally. 

 Everyone was in awe of your raw talent, from the way their gazes were rapt onto your bow, moving back and forth,staying still in some highs and whittling away at the lows. You even thought you saw the producer from inside the booth turn his head towards you from the corner of your eye, but you couldn´ be sure.

 Everyone except Damon Albarn.

 The song ended a minute later with the signal of a fading out bass, and then there was silence.

 ¨Right on with that tune.. ´Thought we'd be fucked ova´ if we didn't find someone to take that melody.¨ The bassist with long shaggy hair grinned and you returned one back.

 ¨Yeah, I was kind of hesitant when Graham ´ere told us he found one to take this position on, but I'm pleased.¨ The saxophone player scratched his chin and hummed his agreement. You felt relief.

 Until he spoke.

 ¨Is this your first time playing?¨

 You look incredulously over at him, looking straight on at his face. Sandy hair, lines on his cheeks, slight scruff around his chin, he looked older than his online pictures. 

 ¨Uhh, no?¨ You laugh a little, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice. ¨If I was, I doubt Graham would think I´m good enough to play with you guys.¨

 ¨I don't think Graham is the only one who needs to think that.¨ Everyone shifts uncomfortably, looking nervously from Damon to you, and Graham tugs his collar as if the temperature had gone up.

 But nonetheless, you don't back down.

 ¨Oh yeah? How so?¨

¨You played the G-string too high,¨ He deadpans, looking utterly bored amidst oceanic hues.

 ¨What?¨ You flip your music pages a couple of times until you find the page where you played that part. ¨No I didn´t, I was right on tune-do you even know how to play the violin?¨

 ¨No,¨ he smirks, and with your blood boiling steadily you open your mouth to argue, but thankfully Graham butts in.

 ¨Damon, don´t be a prick, she played fine. Unlike you, who fucked up on the 5th verse.¨

 The man in question lazily stretches his arms above his head, causing his white tee to rise a few inches over his belly button. You can´t help but glance at the skin-it's smooth, cleanly chiseled with part of his v-line showing, a happy trail rising from the juncture.

 ¨Oi, sweetheart, eyes up here.¨

 You snap your gaze back to his smug face, cheeks burning.

 ¨I didn´t-¨

 ¨Sure you didn´t. Just like how I didn't mess up on the 5th verse, and how you didn't ruin the song with your shitty violin, yeah?¨ He simpers, and you almost rise out of your seat to snarl at him before Graham jumps in between you two, scolding a very inappropriately-grinning Damon.

 You get up out of your chair and huff, shoving your belongings back into your bag as everyone else packs up, the men bickering and playfully throwing shit at each other.

 The producer even congratulates you on your successful first day, and everyone cheers and pounds you on your back, your hair falling in your face and gracefully hiding your 120k watt smile.

 Damon shoulders right past you, knocking your case right out of your hands. You grapple with it for a second before it hits the ground, and when it does you whip around and shoot him an icy glare.

 He's not even looking at you, he's already out the door.

 It's quiet for a moment.

 ¨Well, there he goes again being a dickhead. Classic Damon, you got.¨ The saxophone player points to the leaving blond and grins sheepishly at you.

 ¨What's his problem?¨ You ask in disgust, shaking your head as you join the rest of the boys leaving.

¨Uh, well...¨ Graham scratches the back of his head and avoids looking at you. ¨He's always been kind of like that, y´know, so don't take it too personally, but between just us four, his wife´s been on his arse for a bit about um...some...domestic affairs.¨ He finishes lamely, and the other two men guffaw at your raised eyebrow.

 You don't have a chance to press further as to ask what domestic affairs, exactly because a loud clap of thunder shakes you all to your cores as you step outside.

 ¨Aw, come on!¨ You stamp your foot and hold out your hand for confirmation of the raindrops about to drop on you all. ¨I didn't know it was gonna rain today,¨ you grumble.

 Graham squints up at the sky and wipes some droplets off his blurred glasses, covering his head with his jacket hood as he begins walking to the parking garage. ¨I´ll see you lot in about a week, yeah? Just keep practicing, good rehearsal we had today!¨ He waves his hand and dashes off.

 ¨Good job on your first day, Y/N. Fancy the weather on your walk back for us!¨ The sax and bass player bid farewell and also do a sprint to their respective cars, splashing through the puddles and sending muddy water on your pants.

 ¨Urgh!¨ You raise your hands to try and protect your bottoms but to no avail- London's sewage strikes again.

 Sighing in defeat, you walk through the rain towards your car, succumbing to the grimy walk. Unfortunately you didn't think to use the parking garage due to high nerves when you first came in.

 You walk for about 5 minutes, the rain drenching your hair and clothes and chilling you to your bones.

 Could this day get any more annoying?

Oh, but you should´ve known that it could.

 Because right at that moment, a black limo swerves right next to you on the sidewalk, sending a massive wave of gutter water right your way.

 You swear loudly and jump back, barely managing to avoid the remnants of the sewage tsunami crossing your feet.

 Looking up wildly at the offensive vehicle, you make a fist and flip the window off, your lip curled up into a snarl.

 The obsidian glass rolls down.

 ¨Well that's not very nice, is it? Nasty weather we got going on right now, careful it doesn't get on your clothes.¨

 Oh.

 ¨It's you,¨ you monotone, less than pleased to see his salacious grin at your predicament-which was being soaked to your undergarments in brown muddy water, your hair clinging to your face and your violin case lugging down towards the ground, its weight proving mutiny against you today of all days.

 ¨In the flesh,¨ Damon beams, and you scowl at his cheery attitude.

 ¨You almost drowned me, asshole,¨ You turn your nose up in scorn, and he chuckles in his baritone voice.

 ¨Nah, cant´ve love, I can't drive,¨ he clicks his tongue and jerks his thumb to the seat in front of him, where you assume his chauffeur is.

 ¨Oh, so it was under your orders that your poor driver practically waterboarded me?¨ ¨Well, yeah, I mean what else do you expect me to do when I see a pretty lady walking so harmlessly in the rain?¨ Your voice catches in your throat for a second from his words and the way his glacial eyes twinkle for a moment, but then he erupts in dry chuckles at your demeanor and you throttle your hesitancy at speaking.

 ¨Shut up, you're absolutely vile, y´know that?¨ ¨So I´ve been told, but to be honest sweetheart, I´d rather hear that in bed, where I´m used to hearing it. Now are you going to get in or shall I talk about my sexual prowess with you the rest of the afternoon?¨ He opens his door from the inside and mockingly winks at you.

 You feign a gag, but still decide to jump in the spacious limo when a flash of lightning lights up the sky. 

 He scoots back to give you space to sit and adjust your violin case on the seats in front of you, but just as you´re about to close the door, he leans in right next to you and reaches behind you to pull it shut himself.

 You´re caught still as he draws close, you´re extended hand frozen in midair as his arm against your back flexes and stiffens with it pulling the door. You can feel his breath against your neck as he exhales, can feel some of his hair tickling against your ear and cheek. You hold your breath, not daring to move lest you accidentally brush up against his proximity.

 The loud slam of the door causes you to jump, and he laughs a little at that, signaling his driver to go.

 You don't quite face him, your gaze down in your lap as his entire body is facing you, still stuck in its position when he was closing the car door.

 ¨Not nervous, are you?¨ He murmurs in your ear, and you can´t help it when your whole body shivers at feeling the rumble in his gravelly voice.

 ¨N-no, I´m not. Do you have to be so close?¨ You stammer, barely giving him a sideways glance which eggs him on, much to your displeasure.

 ¨Not really. But if you´re not nervous, then it shouldn't be a problem, right?¨ He says quietly and leans around to catch your eye.

 Before you can lose your nerve and jump out of the car, you snap at him. ¨You just don´t quit, do you?¨ 

 He finally relents and the side of his pink lips lift lazily as he stretches his knees out and practically manspreads across the expanse of three seats. ¨Nope. Not that you really were against it though, ´could feel your heart pounding a mile a minute sweetheart. Trust me, I´m used to making girls nervous, I would know.¨

 You sneer at him. ¨Don´t call me sweetheart, and yeah, I was nervous about getting some disease-ridden prick like you getting close to me. God knows how many STD´s you've contracted from bedding some poor groupies.¨

¨Only one way to find out, right love?¨ He leans his head up to the car ceiling and lets his tousled golden hair flop back, his jawline accentuated by the cream-colored seats contrasting with his tan skin.

 You catch yourself staring, and shake your head quickly.

 ¨You must´ve been more hopped up on heroine than I thought if you think I´d ever fuck a self-absorbed, narcissitic bastard like you.¨

 The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, but once they do your eyes widen and you clap a hand over your mouth in horror.

 Damon lifts his head and slowly turns to face you, his mouth set in a thin line.

 ¨A self-absorbed, narcissistic bastard whose limo you're riding in, need I remind you, so I can´t be all that bad. ´Can't say I haven't heard any of that before love, but most girls who say that end up in my bed anyways.¨

 You open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off.

 ¨Although, ´hopped up on heroin´ is a new one. Just exactly how much research have you done about me so far?¨

 Your rebuttal dies in your throat. You were caught.

 Your ears burn and your face flushes as you bite your lip in embarrassment. Maybe you went too far, and on top of that you let it slip that you knew about him beforehand.

 But you refuse to kowtow in humiliation to this idiot, so you think quickly.

 ¨I doubt you´ve got your head that far up your ass to disregard how half the world was tuning into your personal life when Blur was big, Damon.¨

He looks unimpressed with your excuse, but before he can open his mouth to question you further, you hurry up with another save.

 ¨Also, where are we going? You never asked me where my car was.¨

Bingo His eyes brighten and he shouts at the driver, harping on about him being a brain-dead idiot for driving in circles the past 10 minutes.

 What a save.

 *******************

The moment you step into the booth next week, a drumstick is lobbed at you from seemingly nowhere. You yelp and hold your case up, blocking the weapon as it bounces off your makeshift shield. You bring the case down and shoot a glare towards the only man you know capable of acting so childishly at his grown age.

 But he´s already scrolling through his phone, looking for a measure to start from.

 ¨You´re late.¨

 ¨Hardly,¨ you mutter, glancing at the clock on the wall. Two minutes past shouldn´t be an excuse for having a drumstick pick out your eye.

 ¨Good to see you again, Y/N,¨ Graham pipes up softly, sending you an apologetic glance from Damon to you and you stick out your tongue in faux annoyance. 

 The other two members of your group greet you as well, and you all begin practice. Notes begin harmonizing together, voice and sound coinciding to make music you´ve swayed your hips and nodded your head to on blue nights.

 It´s a hot day, humidity clinging to your skin akin to the perspiration hanging off your forehead, and halfway through the song you decide to take off your sweater. You´re wearing a white tank top underneath, nothing too revealing save for the slight dip in the V-neck, but you couldn't care less about modesty at the moment when your fingers were literally slipping in their grasp on your sweat-slicked bow.

 During a quick break in your part of the song, you slip off your sweater and fan yourself out. It feels good, but you feel a pair of eyes staring at you. Following the laser gaze, you turn your head to face Damon, but he´s nose-deep in the lyrics sheet, warbling about a broken love or friendship. 

 Huh, must´ve been imagining it.

 Your solo comes up, and you prepare yourself for tackling the notes to your best ability, keeping up with Graham´s rapid guitar pace. Sweat continues to build on everyone´s vicinity when the rapid movement of arms waving around their own instrument causes more body heat to suffocate you all.

 Miraculously, the song finishes, and you collapse in your seat like the rest of the men, panting and wiping slick off your foreheads. You reach for a bottle of water on the floor and unscrew the lid, grimacing at its lukewarm temperature but drinking it nonetheless.

 For the second time, you have an unnerving feeling of being watched. This time, you whip your head to the side and catch him staring straight at you. 

 Damon´s face is flushed, his hair tousled, his rose colored glasses steamed up from the muggy aura in the room. His denim jacket is hanging off one shoulder, the rest of his torso covered with a sheer wife beater that accentuates his chiseled dad-body.

But he just stares you down, saying nothing. You frown at him a little bit and shift your body away from him, feeling vulnerable to his laser-gaze. His eyes darken, but Graham speaks, cutting him off from whatever he was about to say.

 ¨That was pretty good, you lot. Greg, Taz, hold off on the third beat of the fourth measure. We´ve gotta crescendo slightly-¨

 ¨Y/N, do you have a job?¨

 Damon's voice cuts off Graham, and everyone falters as they look at him and then you in surprise.

 ¨I don´t know what you mean,¨ you respond coolly, knowing that whatever he was about to say wasn't good.

 ¨I mean, do you have a job? Because as far as I know, most people who work don't dress like whores at their job.¨

 His eyes travel from your face down to your slight cleavage, and you sputter in rage as the rest of the boys shift uncomfortably.

 ¨Damon, for god's sake what´re you on about?¨ Graham asks wearily, taking his glasses off and rubbing his shiny neck.

 ¨I could ask you the same thing, actually. Because as far as I know, you've fucked enough women in your lifetime that one would think you could keep it in your pants for five minutes without acting like a twelve-year-old. Oh, but unless that´s too professional for you? I guess you´re not as serious about your work environment as you claim.¨ you laugh, and the sax player, Greg, snorts into his water bottle.

 Damon sneers, ¨How could I forget, you actually have done your research about my life and sexual endeavors, what a cute little fangirl you are. If you wanted an autograph, you could've just asked, sweetheart.¨

 ¨Go fuck yourself,¨ you snap. ¨You´re all wearing wife-beaters anyways, what's the difference?¨

 Damon starts again but Graham claps his hands loudly, startling you all.

 ¨Enough, both of you! What's gotten into you? Need I remind you that our song is due in less than two weeks? We need to finish this shit and get on with it. Stop acting like children.¨

 You mumble under your breath and Damon shoots a dark look to his childhood friend, but the brunette doesn't back down, and continues to give advice on how to improve their song. You don´t look at Damon the rest of the session out of pure spite, but that doesn't stop him from shamelessly staring straight at you, right until it's time to leave.

 The second Graham checks his watch and exclaims that it's a quarter past twelve already, you´re already bolting out of your seat and shoving your violin in its case, eager to get out of the disgustingly hot room.

 Fortunately, this time you had the right idea to park in the garage like everyone else to avoid any other unwanted encounters, but unfortunately while it was nice to not be waterboarded on your walk, it wasn´t enough to stop said unwanted encounters from occurring.

 Take right now, for instance.

 As you stumble to your car in the blistering weather, your energy depletes faster and faster, causing you to be light headed. Practice was already tough enough in the sweltering heat, but after Damon's little scene you don't have any energy to even walk.

 You crash blindly into your car, the metal of the doors burning your skin as you make contact with the handle. You hiss and jerk back, swaying slightly as your head fogs up. You can barely see, you feel like your clothes weigh a ton on you, so you slide down the vehicle and sit up against the tires, throwing your head back against the car and groaning. The idea of unlocking your doors and sitting in the seat where no doubt several temperatures higher will be settling on the dashboard and in the front row is nauseating.

 Weather-2

You-0

 You don't know the building well enough to know where a vending machine is, and even if you shot Graham a text, you don't have enough energy to wander around and scout for it.

 And lo and behold, from a distance, a figure approaches. You squint as it draws nearer, and let out a laugh as the features come into familiarity.

 The heat must be getting to you worse than you thought, because you´re certain you´re hallucinating Damon Albarn of all fucking people swaggering towards you, one hand holding his denim jacket over his shoulder, and a shit-eating grin on his face as he comes to stand in front of you.

 All you can do is pant like a dog, looking up at him with unimpressed eyes.

 ¨Oi, G-String. ´Brought you some water.¨ he holds out a hand, and you choose to ignore the offensive nickname, insead noticing the large bottle in it, cold condensation covering its expanse.

 Your eyes widen and you lick your lips unconsciously, holding your hands out for it.

 Damon watches your tongue poke out and loses focus before snapping back to reality and moving his arm above your head. You pout and try to reach for it again, but he laughs and holds it even higher.

 You glare and turn your head away from him, suddenly remembering how he embarrassed you earlier. 

 ¨Go away. I don't want it anymore. You´re an asshole.¨ you mumble, perspiration hanging off your lip as you lick the salty beads away once again.

 Damon´s eyes never leave your mouth as he listens to you and watches the pink appendage make its appearance again, and his mouth hangs open slightly unbeknownst to you for a second. You cross your arms and glare at the empty parking lot, silently willing him to go away.

 He snaps back into focus yet again and shakes his head at you. ¨Oh come on love, I´m just teasing. You look like you´re about to die anyways, might as well make this your last meal-er, drink I mean.¨

 ¨I´m not taking anything from a complete dickhead who enjoys harassing women about their clothes. You know, for such a womanizer, you act pretty clueless about how comments like that would make a girl feel. No one else but you had an issue with it, or rather, had the audacity to point it out.¨ You cough at the last word, your dry throat and heavy head making it harder to talk.

 He sighs and crouches down, balancing on the balls of his feet. He pops open the cap and gently turns your chin towards his face, much to your surprise. You´re genuinely too weak to protest, but when you look at his concerned face, eyebrows scrunched up and accentuating the lines on his forehead, you don't think you'd want to turn away even if you could.

 He coaxes your agap mouth even more open by dragging a rough thumb down over your lips, and you obediently open your mouth, mesmerized by his eyes. His movements are soft and slow, as if you were a fidgety rabbit about to run off at the slightest touch. He scoots closer, right over in front of you as you simply gaze up at him, allowing him to pour cool water down your throat, quenching your bone-dry palate.

 For a couple of seconds, water floods your mouth but all you can do is stare up at him. The light rays are reflecting off his back, casting a yellow glow around his silhouette and he almost looks like an angel. His hair is mussed as if he'd spent the day running his hands through the golden locks, and the scruff on his face peeks through soft-looking skin.

 ¨Swallow, or I'll really waterboard you this time,¨ he says lowly, chuckling a bit as he catches you staring so adamantly right in his face. You jerk back to consciousness and swallow hastily, accidentally choking on the gulp in your rush.

 He laughs even more and lets go of your chin much to your disappointment as he adjusts himself to sit next to you, not seeming to mind the scorching car metal. The absence of his hand on your face leaves a cold, empty feeling in your heart despite the heated blush on your cheeks

 ¨You´ll burn yourself,¨ you mumble, lolling your head over to look at him.

 But he looks straight ahead and shrugs casually. ¨Not any more than you.¨ You both sit in silence for a few minutes, occasionally sipping from the bottle he passes towards you and watching cars go by.

 ¨You didn't answer my question. Why do you harp on me in the studio? You act like a normal human being here.¨

 Damon looks thoughtfully at a white sedan passing by, then speaks.

 ¨As I´m sure Graham has blabbed to you already, I´ve been having some...trouble with the missus, let's say.¨

 You say nothing and raise a questioning eyebrow.

 ¨For the shitty attitude,¨ he mutters and swipes the bottle from your hand, taking a large swig himself.

 ¨And, like you said earlier, I am an asshole. Of course I´ll enjoy harassing pretty women over their revealing clothes,¨ he smirks and gives you a once over.

 There it was again, pretty woman.

 You scowl and get up to leave, but what he says stops you in your tracks.

 ¨Taz was lookin´ at you,¨ he says quietly, suddenly very interested in the now-empty bottle. ¨´Didn't like it, but I couldn't say anything to him. Graham likes him too much.¨

 Huh. Maybe the pair of eyes you felt back in the room didn't only belong to Damon.

 He cracks a small smile and looks up at you, his face adorably innocent and wide as he sheepishly admits, ¨I´m used to butting heads with blokes like him for women.¨

 You jerk back up to your feet, brushing off any insinuation he was giving and pat his knee awkwardly, ignoring the fire now igniting once again in your chest.

 ¨Thanks for the water, I needed it. You might wanna move if you don't want to get run over by my car.¨ You reach down and pick up your case as Damon clambers to his feet.

 He looks amused as you fumble for your keys, nervously turning the lock and sitting in the hot car, obviously eager to get away from his intimidating gaze.

 ¨I´ll see you next week, yeah?¨ You laugh breathlessly and roll your window down to call out to him.

 He says nothing, but merely cocks his head at you, his eyes now obscured by the rose-colored glasses he puts over his eyes. He waves a little and watches as you drive away a little too fast.

 But as it turns out, you don't see him next week.

 ******

It was just your luck that one of the cutest guys from your work asked you out on the very same week you had practice with the boys. You contemplated moving the date to another time, but...you deserved to have some fun time off too, right? It's not like it would make too much of a difference in your skill, anyways, you´ve gotten all the strings down and such.

 So, you decide to go on this date. It goes well, the dude was cute, dorky, lacked a little pizzazz but nothing a bottle of fancy red wine and a night of movies couldn´t coax out of him. It honestly wasn't anything too big, you exchanged numbers and made plans to meet up again soon. After parting ways, you threw yourself back into the regular regime of practicing your violin and meticulously listening to the booth recording every night, just so you could perfect your part to a T.

 The day came where you had to go back to practice, and you were ready, veins pumping with determination to make these last few sessions the best you´ve played yet. You texted Graham that you´d be there soon, and he gave you a thumbs up in return. When you finally arrived in front of the room, you were 10 minutes late. The boys were already playing, by the sound of the percussion booming outside the door. You grimace and take a deep breath, turning the handle in and hurrying inside the booth.

 No one really spared a glance at you, so you assumed you were okay in terms of punctuality. You opened your case and started strumming your strings, counting the measures and beats until it was your turn. Damon´s voice rang out, melodious and airy as ever, dropping octaves and floating on soprano tones. Your bow moved across his words, accenting his tones and adding emphasis to his sorrowful song. And then, after a couple of minutes, it was done.

 ¨Alright you lot, pretty good for today. ´Specially you, Y/N, you caught up pretty quick, I expected you to slack behind but I'm actually impressed.¨ Graham flashed you a nervous grin and you beamed back at him in return.

 ¨Yeah, speaking of, why were you gone last week? I expected someone who makes below the poverty line would actually want to work for their money,¨ Damon chuckles a little meanly.

 You feel your smile drop a smidge.

 ¨Well actually Damon, not that it's any of your business, but I went on a date.¨ You smirk at him, enjoying the way his mouth opens slightly and moves silently.

 But he regroups quickly and glares at you. ¨None of my business? The deadline is only a few days away, and you´re whoring yourself out and going on dates? I guess you´re not as professional as Graham thought.¨

 Everyone shifts uncomfortably, and blood rushes to your face, anger clouding your mind. Why was he being like this? He was fine the last time you saw him, you actually thought maybe he was going to change the way he addressed you.

  Graham speaks up. ¨Damon. You´re overreacting man, I gave her the okay, and she played fine today. No harm done, seriously, there's no need for that kind of language towards her.¨

 ¨Actually, there absolutely is a need. If I knew you were going to invite a prostitute as our sub-in then I would´ve never agreed to have her here. Didn´t know you were so low on money Y/N, I would´ve spared you a couple pounds.¨ He sneers.

 ¨Damon!¨

 You laugh bitterly and rise to your feet. ¨Oh that's rich, coming from the man who fucked half the continent just because he couldn't get over one girl. No wonder every real woman in your life including your wife wants to leave, nothing is ever good enough for you. Except heroin maybe.¨

 The words leave your mouth before you can take them back, and there's a pin drop silence as if a bomb had been dropped. In a way, it kind of did.

 Damo glares at you. Everyone is holding your breath, including you.

 ¨Get out.¨

 ¨Hey,-¨ Taz tries to gently interject but Damon throws the mic at him. 

 ¨I said get the fuck out. You´re not practicing with us anymore, you can pack your shit and leave.¨

 Tears brim at the corners of your eyes, and you choke out a small ¨Fine.¨

 You hear Graham berating him behind you as you fly through the door, telling him that they need you, it's too late to change people, but the words jumble in your ears as the door slams shut. You don't hear what Damon says, if he even says anything, and you aren't interested in his comebacks right now.

 It's only when you leave the car, tears streaming down your face in rage and embarrassment that you groan to yourself, your hands reaching an empty seat with one foot out the door-

You forgot your violin case.

 ************

 It's nighttime.

 The crickets chirp as you creep silently through the parking garage, the soft thud of your shoes echoing a lot louder than you wanted in the empty lot. The studio itself wasn't closed, but you were sure Damon must have informed the manager there not to let an ex-musician like you back in there.

 Wearing a black hoodie and black pants was a smart move- you blended in with the shadows well. The doors weren't locked, and you hiss out a small ¨yesss¨ as you slip inside the mostly dark building. Needless to say, you were proud of yourself for navigating through the windings pitch-black hallways to your old booth.

 Testing the handle lightly, you sigh out in relief when that too gives way. Unfortunately though, the second the door shuts behind you, you immediately stumble forward and fall. 

 The room is dark, darker than the other hallways so you can barely see your hands. The only source of light you´re granted is the dim red bulb on top of the booth door. And speaking of, that's exactly where you need to go...which proves to be harder when you keep bumping into random shit and cursing when you feel potential bruises forming on your shins.

 Miraculously you stagger through the next door towards where you last sat, and blindly feel around the floor and chairs for your violin case. You feel nothing there, but panic starts settling in your heart when you can't find it.

 ¨Looking for something?¨

 You scream and lurch backwards, knocking your head into some kind of stand. Groaning, you rub your head and hold a hand on your racing heart as you squint into the dim red room, placing the voice to the person.

 ¨D-Damon?¨ 

 ¨In the flesh sweetheart. ´Knew you'd come back for this, s´just my luck I came back to get it tonight so I could give it to you personally in case you wanted to be stubborn. But this is even better than I could´ve hoped.¨

 You make out his silhouette in the obsidian abyss in front of you. He's sitting with knees spread on a chair, a few feet in front of you as he leans his head back on the wall. Your precious violin case is being held hostage in his arms, and it's the absolute love you have for the brittle instrument that propels you to your feet and moves you to get the hell out instead of interrogating him.

 ¨What, so you were just here the whole time listening to me falling around like an idiot?” You laugh incredulously, and you see the area of his shoulders move up and down.

 ¨Was pretty funny to watch, honestly. You sound cute when you curse.¨ He stands up to his fullest height now, the red light bouncing off his back, giving him a sort of demonic halo.

 You knew it was actually time to leave when you felt those stupid butterflies in your stomach rise up again.

¨Right, well, I´ll be on my way then. Good luck with your song and whatever, I´ll just take the case...¨ You trail off as your extended hand is left in midair, no violin case reaching it.

 He cocks his head at you. ¨Why are you in such a rush to leave?¨

 You can´t help the scoff that escapes you. 

 ¨Are you serious? You were such an absolute dickhead to me this afternoon, you said all sorts of horrible things to me, and you even fired me for Christ's sake! I want nothing to do with you, so could you please give me my case back so I can go?¨

 He's silent for a moment before answering. ¨Are you done yet?¨

 It isn´t just the light that's making you see red now.

 ¨Fuck you, honestly.¨ You whirl around and stomp towards where you guess the  door is, ignoring the clatter behind you and bingo you locate the handle, but as soon as you turn it-

 A hand reaches from behind you and pulls the ajar door shut.

 ¨Don´t go. I´m sorry.¨

 You´re absolutely still as you feel him towering over you, his arm dangerously close to your midriff as his hand remains on the knob.

 His voice is low, and you can feel him breathe against your neck, mere inches away. You can´t help the involuntary shiver that passes through you, and he feels it too, inhaling deeply when he gets close to your ear.

 ¨You smell so good.¨

 ¨Leave me alone, Damon,¨ you whisper, your voice catching in your throat from the overwhelming onslaught of emotions passing through you.

 He breaths in and slowly lets his hand rest on your side.

 ¨I can't do that. You know why. You have to have known by now.¨

 You tremble in his touch, yet allow his hands to wander down to your hip, the other coming around in a sort of hug to pull you closer to him.

 ¨We can´t.¨

 ¨Sure we can.¨

 You can feel his erection bumping against your ass.

 ¨You´re not worth this.¨

 ¨I´ll make myself worth it.¨

 And as soon as he latches onto the back of your neck, you´re like putty in his hands, a moaning mess as he sucks galaxy-colored hickies on your skin. You can feel yourself grow wetter as he shoves his hands up your shirt and teasingly pulls down the bridge of your bra, letting the weight of your tits fill up his hands appreciatively. He starts rolling your hardened buds in between his skilled calloused fingers, and you whine and throw your head back when you feel him rut against your ass, panting raggedly in your ear.

 You rub your thighs together, desperate for some form of friction as he squeezes your tits, and then letting one hand ghost across the expanse of your stomach, down to brush against the rim of your panties. Damon chuckles meanly in your ear when you buck against the stilled hand over your mound.

 ¨You want this?¨ He lightly nips your ear. He smells like old spice and sandalwood.

 You nod desperately, frustrated with him not giving you his thick fingers already.

 But it's not enough for him. ¨No no, pretty girl, use your words now. I´ve barely touched you yet and you´re already moaning like a wanton little slut for me? And here I was thinking you weren't that easy.¨

 You stop jerking your hips and blood rushes to your face at his insulting words. You try to move out of his grip, huffing and regretting the whole thing but he outright laughs now and spins you around, tugging you forward until your chest is slotted against his. You pout at him and look away, but he's quick to grasp your chin and pull you in for a rough yet sensual kiss.

Pushing you backwards against the wall, he deepens the lip-lock, tracing his tongue over your lips, nipping at the soft flesh and darkening his eyes when you whimper and look up at him.

 He knows what he´s fucking doing when he again drops his hand under your pants and over your panties, his other palm wound up firmly through your hair. He pulls your head back and lets you breathe for a second from his kiss of death before he speaks again.

 ¨I didn't hear an answer, slut. Do you want this?¨ He leans forward until his nose brushes against your neck, flicking his tongue out to taste your saccharine flesh.

 You tremble against his firm body when he pushes his pelvis against you, letting you feel how hard he is for you.

 It doesn't matter anymore. Maybe he was right, maybe you were just an easy slut putting up a facade for him, but when his clothes erection grinds up against your pussy you can't care less.

 ¨Y-yes, yes, ´want you, please,¨ you pant, frantically gripping the back of his cropped hair as his head descends to mark your neck again.

 ¨What a good girl,¨ he whispers, finally allowing his digits to oh-so-slowly trace over your mound, pressing down harder when you jerk against him. He finds your wet clit and flicks it a few times, snickering when you gasp and moan. Your body writhes in place but he holds you literally between a rock-or, wall- and a hard place, preventing you from scampering off.

 He drums his fingers against your folds, paying no attention to the way you grip his head tighter against you, silently begging him to go further.

 But he relents eventually and retires from just pushing and prodding your folds, allowing his slicked fingers to slowly dive into your drooling hole. You whimper and bite back a string of curses when you feel him fill you completely, scraping against your walls for that one special spot.

 His mouth moves off your neck and he rises to face you, a stupid smug grin on his wet lips, his eyelids lowered and trained on you. You flush at his lustful expression and gently push his head away, not wanting to accept his victory yet.

 ¨My fingers are literally fucking you right now, and you still won´t let me look at you? What, too embarrassed you couldn't continue being a stone-cold bitch for long?¨

 You open your mouth to snap back but right at that moment he curls his fingers and grazes your G-spot, simultaneously grounding his wet palm against your clit.

 With a loud gasp and the sluttiest moan you´ve ever made, you cum hard, your mouth open in a silent scream and your tongue hanging out like a bitch in heat as you do so. You fall forward against him.

 You don't even need to look up to know that he has a shit-eating grin on his face.

 ¨What was that sweetheart? Sorry, ´couldn't hear you over those slutty moans. I think even the pornstars I´ve been with would give you a standing ovation if they heard what you just sounded like.¨

 Your words are slurred as you curse nonsense at him, yet you´re still gripping his forearms to keep a hold on yourself. Your ears are ringing and you see spots as you come down from your climax, and surprisingly enough, Damon holds you close and doesn't let you slip down to the ground as you expected to when your knees start to give out.

 Instead, he lifts you up quite easily and carries you over to a table in the corner of the room. You don´t know how he even navigates his way through the dimly lit room, but you suppose after almost half a lifetime in studios he knows his way around.

 You offer no resistance as he sets you down gently and begins to lift your shirt off of your body. You manage to lift your arms weakly up in the air for easier access to stripping, but when he starts to kneel down to take your pants off you stop his hands at your knees and look at him with scrunched eyebrows.

 He stops and looks up at you. His eyes aren't so darkened anymore, they´re wide and imploring, probably noticing your hesitation.

 ¨Damon, I...¨ You trail off as he maintains eye contact with you and slowly lowers his pursed lips to your calf, lightly pecking his way up to your knees and ensuring that you´re watching his every move.

 Your breathing increases again as his pink appendage darts out, his saliva cooling on your exposed thighs. He sucks on the plush skin and turns his head upwards to face you.

 You want to run your hands through his hair.

 ¨You have a wife,¨ You breathe.

 ¨Not for tonight I don´t.¨

 Your voice gets caught in your throat at that. He positions his hands at the side of your knees, fingers curling around the hem of your pants in a second attempt.

 ¨Let me make you feel good, love.¨

His answer is in the form of your hand reaching for his collar and pulling him up into a standing position until he towers over your seated form, once again breath stolen in a heated kiss.

 Damon fumbles with his zipper as you shove your pants off, fully ready for him now, your dampened panties solid evidence of your need for him.

 He pulls his cock out and it bounces out, slapping up against his stomach.

 You do a double take. The tabloids were right. He was absolutely huge.

 It was disgusting almost, it was insulting really. How the fuck could he be that big? You lose count of how many inches he is when you start to get light headed, realizing with a jolt that he plans to put that monster inside you.

 And fuck, why did it have to be so pretty too? Normally you wouldn´t use the word pretty to describe a dick, but fuck, that´s the only appropriate word that came to mind as you admired the white flesh as it mixed in with a dull pink flush turning into an angry shade of red as your eyes progressed up to his tip...which was soaked with precum, mind you.

 He was neatly shaven everywhere, including his plush balls. No wonder he got to fuck half the continent.

 Damon notices your gawking and smiles lazily, taking a fist around his prick and stroking lethargically up and down.

 ¨You gonna just stare at it all day or are you going to spread those cute legs for me?¨

 Spoken like a true middle aged fuck-boyman.

 You look up at him beseechingly, thoroughly intimidated by his length. He merely scoffs, winking at you when he wrenches your tightly closed knees apart.

 It's almost like he falls into a trance when he presses his now-naked torso against your chest, when he slots himself between your legs and drags his tip through your sloppy folds and up onto your clit. His mouth falls open slightly and he moans when your juices coat his dick, making it slippery and easy to push the first few inches ever so slightly into your spasming cavern.

 He can't help but want more, need more as he practically smothers his weight onto you, forcing you to lie back on the table and letting your legs dangle off the edge. He hunches over you and thrusts minutely into your pulsing folds, groaning when you whine and lace your fingers around his neck and tangle your legs around his back, dragging him impossibly close into you.

 For a moment it´s just the sound of you two panting and moaning like inexperienced teenagers, and a zing of pride zips up your spine at the realization that Damon Albarn, one of the world's most renowned playboy is whining and humping against your pussy, reduced to nothing at your hands.

 He takes your hands from around his neck and grips your wrists, forcing them above your head on the table. He leans down and kisses you, hard. You give him back the same energy when your hips move up and down along his length, pushing your inviting hole towards his eager and jumping dick.

 ¨Pretty little girl,¨ he murmurs against your lips, and you nip his bottom lip playfully in retaliation. He slowly starts to sink himself into you, and you practically purr at the feeling of his veiny member dragging against your sensitive walls until he stops. 

 You look at him questioningly, and blanch when you see the mischievous glint in his cobalt eyes.

 ¨I want you to count for me.¨

¨Count…?¨ You shake your head in confusion and he pulls out, making you groan in annoyance.

 ¨I want you to count every inch I put inside you. Unless your slutty mouth can't even do that? I'd be surprised if you couldn´t, you usually have so much shit to say.¨ His voice is low yet teasing, and a shiver passes through you when the rumble of his chest vibrates against your nipples.

 ¨F-fine, I´ll count.¨

 He hums in approval and regroups, guiding his length into your awaiting pussy once again.

 It´s almsot torture how slow he goes, and your toes curl at how vivid the sensation is at this pace.

 You almost forget to do what he asks until he ducks his head down and teeths your bud.

 ¨Ah, fuck! One!¨ You yelp, writhing to get away from his lecherous gaze and hold on your poor tit.

 He tuts and licks the swollen area until the pain subsides a bit, and then he continues to push.

 ¨T-two,¨ you moan and let your head fall back. It's unfair how tightly he´s holding your reins-you want him to plow you down, not take his sweet time in this punishment.

 ¨Damon, can´t you go any faster? Please, I want y-¨

¨-I didn't take you for a masochist, Y/N, but I´m happy to play around with these cute tits if you want to bitch more.¨

Your scowl is cut off when he suddenly shoves two more inches into you, and you mewl loudly at being filled so much.

 ¨Three! Four! Fuck, oh god, please,¨ you babble nonsense as he curses above you, his form shaking in an effort not to push all the way in.

 ¨Doing so good sweetheart, you´re almost halfway,¨ he smirks and you gape at him in disbelief.

 Halfway?

 Five, six, seven, eight, and nine go painfully slow, and by the time he´s fully sheathed inside you, plush balls pressed against your ass, you´re an incoherent, drooling mess.

 Your hair is in your face, your cheeks are flushed, and your body bounces up and down as he begins to rock inside you, finally giving you what you want.

 His name is chanted like an obscene prayer from your mouth as he grunts and shakes the table. Your legs are wobbly and unable to do anything except press him tighter against you to the point where he can barely move back. The skin of his stomach slaps against yours, his balls slap against the crevice of your ass, and your pussy practically sloshes with every stroke in and out.

 He fists your hair with one hand and pulls your neck up to meet his searching lips, his other hand holds your wrists fast against the table. You want to touch him, you want to explore your body as he has conquered yours but he doesn't let you feel anything else apart from the rapid thrusts inside your battered body.

 Damon switches positions and lifts the back of your knees up and pushes them forwards until they meet your chest. He lets his body weight rest on the back of your thighs as he pulls out and pushes back impossibly close inside you, closer than he did in missionary. 

 You sob with need as he plunges into you and reaches a higher spot than before, his tip grazing your cervix. He pounds into you, and you thrust your hips up to fuck back into him, calling out his name as if he were your god.

 It´s a good thing the rooms are soundproof.

 You feel your second climax comes when he paves way through your tight walls and batters your uterus. It doesn´t hurt so much as feel intense, and your choked moans become panting gasps when he brings a hand down to swirl his thumb over your aching clit.

 ¨You´re not going to meet with that prick from your work again, yeah? Say it. Say it if you want me to let you cum.¨ He could have been speaking an alien language for all you knew. Your poor addled brain didn't pick up anything except for the word ¨cum¨, and you were a goner.

 ¨Yes, yes, anything you say, anything you want, just please let me-¨

And oh he does.

 It comes over you like a tidal wave, your mind going blank, your eyes seeing white as your legs shake from your earth-shattering orgasm. You feel like you´re going down a rollercoaster, and you never want to stop dropping.

 Distantly, you hear him groan and say your name. You can feel pulsing in your filled walls, with what you assume is his ropes of cum. It feels like when you came, it practically squeezed all his cum out with your clenching.

 He lets out a shaky breath and falls forward, his nose inches from yours, his breath puffing in your face.

 Your eyes are glazed over, but you´ve never seen anything more clearly before.

 Maybe Damon Albarn really was worth it.

[wolfstar-in-color]

July Colorful Column: Remus is a Crip, and We Can Write Him Better.

There is one thing that can get me to close a fic so voraciously I don’t even make sure I’m not closing other essential tabs in the process. It doesn’t matter how much I’m loving the fic, how well written I think it is, or how desperately I want to know how it ends. Once I read this sentence, I am done.

It’s written in a variety of different ways, but it always goes something like this: “You don’t want me,” Remus said, “I am too sick/broken/poor/old/[insert chosen self-demeaning adjective here].”

You’re familiar with the trope. The trope is canonical. And if you’ve been around the wolfstar fandom for longer than a few minutes, you’ve read the trope. Maybe you love the trope! Maybe you’ve written the trope! Maybe you’re about to stop reading this column, because the trope rings true to you and you feel a little attacked!

Now, let’s get one thing out of the way right now: I am not saying the trope is wrong. I am not saying it’s bad. I am not saying we should stop writing it. We all have things we don’t like to see in our chosen fics. Maybe you can’t stand Leather Jacket Motorbike Sirius? Maybe you think Elbow Patch Remus is overdone? Or maybe your pet peeves are based in something a little deeper - maybe you think Poor Latino Remus is an irresponsible depiction, or that PWPs are too reductive? Whatever it is, we all have our things.

Let me tell you about my thing. When I first became very ill several years ago, there were various low points in which I felt I had become inherently unlovable. This is, more or less, a normal reaction. When your body stops doing things it used to be able to do - or starts doing things you were quite alright without, thank you very much - it changes the way you relate to your body. You don’t want to hear my whole disability history, so yada yada yada, most people eventually come to accept their limitations. It’s a very painful existence, one in which you constantly tell yourself your disability has transformed you into a burdensome, unworthy member of society, and if nothing else, it’s not terribly sustainable. Being disabled takes grit! It takes power! It takes a truly absurd amount of medical self-advocacy! Hating yourself? Thinking yourself unworthy of love? No one has time for that. 

Of course, I’m being hyperbolic. Plenty of disabled people struggle with these feelings many years into their disabilities, and never really get over them. But here’s the thing. We experience those stories ALL THE TIME. Remember Rain Man? Or Million Dollar Baby? Or that one with the actress from Game of Thrones and that British actor who seemed like he was going to have a promising career but then didn't? Those are all stories about sad, bitter disabled people and their sad, bitter lives, two out of three of which end in the character completing suicide because they simply couldn’t imagine having to live as a disabled person. (I mean, come on media, I get that we're less likely to enjoy a leisurely Saturday hike, but our parking is SUBLIME.) When was the last time you engaged with media that depicted a happy disabled person? A complex disabled person? A disabled person who has sex? No really, these aren’t hypothetical questions, can you please drop a rec in the notes?? Because I am desperate.

There are lots of problems with this trope, and they’ve been discussed ad nauseam by people with PhDs. I’m not actually interested in talking about how this trope leads to a more prevalent societal idea that disabled people are unworthy of love, or contributes to the kind of political thought processes that keep disabled people purposefully disenfranchised. I’m just a bitch on Tumblr, and I have a bone to pick: the thing I really hate about the trope? It’s boring. I’m bored. You know how, like, halfway through Grey’s Anatomy you realized they were just recycling the same plot points over and over again and there was just no WAY anyone working at a hospital prone to THAT MANY disasters would stay on staff? It's like that. I love a recycled trope as much as the next person (There Was Only One Bed, anyone?). But I need. Something. Else.

Remus is disabled. BOLD claim. WILD speculation. Except, not really. You simply - no matter how you flip it, slice it, puree it, or deconstruct it - cannot tell me Remus Lupin is not disabled. Most of us, by this point, are probably familiar with the way that One Canonical Author intended One Dashing Werewolf to be “a metaphor for those illnesses that carry stigma, like HIV and AIDS” [I’m sorry to link you to an outside source quoting She Who Must Not Be Named, but we’re professionals here]. Which is... a thing. It’s been discussed. And, listen, there’s no denying that this parallel is a problematic interpretation of people who have HIV/AIDS and all such similar “those illnesses” (though I’ll admit that I, too, am perennially apt to turn into a raging beast liable to harm anything that crosses my path, but that’s more linked to the at-least-once-monthly recollection that One Day At A Time got cancelled). Critiques aside, Remus Lupin is a character who - due to a condition that affects him physically, mentally, emotionally, and intellectually - is repeatedly marginalized, oppressed, denied political and social power, and ostracized due to unfounded fear that he is infectious to others. Does that sound familiar?

We’re not going to argue about whether or not “Remus is canonically disabled as fuck” is a fair reading. And the reason we’re not going to argue about whether or not it’s a fair reading is because I haven’t read canon in 10-plus years and you will win the argument. Canon is only marginally relevant here. The icon of this blog is brown, curly haired Remus Lupin kissing his trans boyfriend, Sirius Black. We are obviously not too terribly invested in canon. The wolfstar fandom is now a community with over 25,000 AO3 fics, entire careers launched from drawing or writing or cosplaying this non-canonical pairing. We love to play around here with storylines and universes and races and genders and sexualities and all kinds of things, but most of the time? Remus is still disabled. He’s disabled as a werewolf in canon-compliant works, he’s disabled in the AUs where he was injured or abused or kidnapped or harmed as a child, he’s disabled in the stories that read him as chronically ill or bipolar or traumatized or blind or Deaf. I’d go so far as to say that he is one of very few characters in the Wide Wonderful World of media who is, in as close to his essence as one can be, always disabled. And that means? Don’t shoot the messenger... but we could stand to be a tiny bit more responsible with how we portray him. 

Disabled people are complicated. As much as I’d like to pretend we are always level-headed, confident, and ready to assert our inherent worth, we are still just humans. We have bad days. We doubt our worth. We sometimes go out with guys who complain about our steroid-induced weight gain (it was a long time ago, Tumblr, okay??). But, we also have joy and fun and good days and sex and happiness and families and so many other things. 

Remus is a disabled character, and as such, it’s only fair that he’d have those unworthy moments. But - I propose - Remus is also a crip. What is a crip? A crip - like a queer - is someone who eschews the limited boundaries placed on their bodies, who rejects a hierarchy of oppression in favor of an intersectional analysis of lived experience, who isn’t interested in being the tragic figure responsible for helping people with dominant identities realize how good they have it. Crips interpret their disabilities however they want, rethinking bodies and medicine and pleasure and pain and even time itself. Crips are political, community-minded, and in search of liberation. 

Remus is a character who struggles with his disability, sure. But he’s also a character who leverages his physical condition to attempt to shift communities towards his political leanings, advocates for the rights of those who share his physical condition, and has super hot sex with his wrongfully convicted boyfriend ultimately goes on to build community and family. Having a condition that quite literally cripples you, over which you have no control, and through which you are often read as a social pariah? That’s disability. But using said condition as a means through which to build advocacy and community? Now that’s some crip shit. 

Personally, I love disabled!Remus Lupin. But I love crip!Remus Lupin even more. I’d love to see more of a Remus who owns his disability, who covets what makes him unique, and who never ever again tells a potential romantic partner they are too good for him because of his disability. This trope - unlike There Was Only One Bed! - sometimes actually hurts to read. Where’s Remus who thinks a potential romantic partner isn’t good enough for him? Where’s Remus who insists his partners learn more about his condition in order to treat him properly? Where’s sexy wheelchair user Remus? Where’s Remus who uses his werewolf transformations as an excuse to travel the world? Where’s crip Remus??

We don’t have to put “you don’t want me” Remus entirely to bed. It is but one of many repeated tropes that are - in the words of The Hot Priest from Fleabag - morally a bit dubious. And let’s face it - we don’t always come to fandom for its moral superiority (as much as we sometimes like to think we do). 

This is not a condemnation - it is an invitation. Able-bodied folks are all but an injury, illness, or couple decades away from being disabled. And when you get here, I sincerely hope you don’t waste your time on “you don’t want me”ing back and forth with the people you love. I’m inviting you to come to the crip side now. We have snacks, and without all the “you don’t want me” talk, we get to the juicy parts much faster. 

Colorfully,

Mod Theo

[crhinge]

Breaking Down The Classic Rom-Com

I feel like I haven’t written a fun post in a hot sec so lets talk about one of my favorite subjects: Rom Coms

According to wikipedia, a Rom Com, also known as Romantic Comedy, is “a subgenre of comedy and slice-of-life fiction, focusing on lighthearted, humorous plot lines centered on romantic ideas, such as how true love is able to surmount most obstacles.” In the past, Romantic Comedies have also been called “Chick Flicks” but I think this is devaluing of both women and  the romantic comedy genre. 

The other day, I woke up to find that the most wholesome rom-com couple of all time reunited: Matty & Jenna (Aka Mark Ruffalo & Jennifer Garner). This got me thinking about the beauty of the Rom-Com and how unappreciated they can be. It has been years since we have seen a rom-com with the cultural impact of 13 Going on 30, and I would like to petition for more of them after a sad and painful year. 

I can already hear the millions (in my head this blog is extremely popular) of comments “What about To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before?!?” “What about The Kissing Booth?!?” And too that I say, "Good Riddance!” If you’re rating your rom coms on a TATBILB scale, or even WORSE The Kissing booth, I feel sorry for you. Truly I do. So let's dive into the best Rom Coms of all time, but first... 

What makes a Rom-Com good? Well let's start with a relatable as hell main character. I am talking a girl (sometimes guy), who has many flaws, but the audience can see themselves within her/him. Let's use Jenna Rink from 13 Going On 30 as an example. Well, she's literally a 13 year old in a 30 year olds body, but don’t we all still have a preteen hiding inside of all of us? She is 100% willing to be herself at every step, even if that means dancing thriller all alone. She touches on all of our insecurities, while teaching us how to break down our walls. 

Rom-Coms also need characters to make realistic choices. This does not mean that the movie itself is realistic, but rather than you can understand the choices the characters make. Again, 13 going on 30 does a fabulous job of this. Obviously, Jenna traveling in time because of wishing powder is not realistic, but the choices that her and her past self make are. Due to the insecurities of her childhood and a need to feel included, relevant, and powerful Jenna pushes important people out of her life, which happens to so many people in the real world. These decisions force her to miss out on the love of her life, and ultimately, the story ends sadly: the love of her life marries someone else and she is left with tears, wishing powder, and an old doll house. That is until she is able to travel back in time and change the course of her life. 

Lastly, Every classic Rom-Com couple needs to have chemistry. There. I said it. Hollywood loves just casting random famous actors without giving them a proper chemistry read. One great example of this is Julianne Hough and Josh Duhamel in Safe Haven. Both fun, famous, Hollywood actors who have zero chemistry. Mark Ruffalo and Jennifer Garner had more chemistry throwing back Razzles than those two did during an intimate sex scene. 

Alright, now that we have broken down the requirements of a Romantic Comedy, let's jump into the best and worst of all time.

Best: When Harry Met Sally. 9/10. A classic. A tale as old as time. Both Sally & Harry are very flawed, yet relatable characters. Sally is too picky and particular, while Harry is a player. They both suck at relationships, but make rational decisions based on their motivations. We all have friends like these two and their chemistry is on point, both on a friendship and romantic level. They bounce off of one another splendidly. 

Worst: Sleepless in Seattle. 1/10 I know, this is a strong take, but this is a terrible movie about a stalker. Meg Ryan (I don’t even remember her character's name) is the stupidest most unrelatable character I have seen in a long time. She is extremely unlovable, cheats on her SO emotionally, and flies across the country to stalk a man that she has never met before. And then you’re telling me that Tom hanks FALLS FOR HER? Nope. No. I refuse to except this. Plus, their chemistry in this is pretty mediocre (You’ve Got Mail is Way Better) and we only get to see them together once. 

Best: 10 Things I Hate About You. 8/10. I was tempted to leave all high School Rom-Coms off this list, but Heath Ledger is my exception. Talk about likability. Kat is a strong, powerful, independent woman who learns how to be more vulnerable while still being a feminist badass. We all wanted to be Kat growing up. Meanwhile Heath Ledger is the classic bad boy with a soft side, and who wasn’’t into that? Both characters grow into new people throughout the movie making them relatable, complex, and realistic. Not to mention the angel that is Joseph Gordon Levitt, who keeps the audience up beat and smiling throughout the course of this Shakespeare tale

Best: My Big fat Greek Wedding. 10/10.  Have you seen this film recently? Because it is an absolute DELIGHT and so relatable. It dives into the difficulty of family expectation and cultures merging. It also has the cutest proposal of all time with a realistic couple that fights for one another on a daily basis. You laugh. You cry. You get a dynamic cast with wonderful chemistry. You feel invested in the family and the relationship. Just a joyful wonderful film.

Worst: Something Borrowed. 0/10. If you’ve never seen this movie, don’t. Ginnifer Goodwin sleeps with her best friends fiancé and we’re supposed to be okay with it because she liked him first. Hard pass. And she ignores John Krazinski who is right in front of her. She is unlikable, unreliable, and makes dumb decisions that no one else would. 

Best: He’s just not that into you. 9/10  I will go to bat for this movie. It follows several realistic storylines in a Love Actually manor, except they actual seem legit. A woman realizing her boyfriend is never going to marry her. A girl facing the fact that maybe some guys just aren’t that into her, and she isn’t an exception to the rule. A man slowly making the decision to cheat on his wife as they are growing apart. A woman realizing that she is worth way more than her bastard husband. A woman realizing that the person she’s sleeping with will never leave his wife for her. It's compelling, has realistic characters that we can relate to, and still warms your heart in the end. 

Best: The Big Sick. 8/10. Okay to be fair, this is based on a true story so it automatically has realistic characters and decisions. Maybe I should leave this off of the list, but I wish this film got the recognition it deserves. Two lovable main characters who make mistakes that are understandable. Wonderful chemistry between Kumail and his girlfriend as well as her family. 

Best: About Time. 11/10 This is hands down the best Rom-Com of all time and Potentially the best film of all time as well. If you don’t cry in this movie you do not have a heart or soul. The characters are SO insanely likable and adorable.It touches on the importance of family and valuing time and how little of it we have. The chemistry within the whole cast is palpable, and we can all relate to at least one character, whether it is the protagonist Tim, his wife Mary, his sister Kit-Kat, or his father. 

Well it is important to point out the obvious here: this list is lacking diversity in a huge way. All but one of these movies follow a cis, straight, white couple, and that is extremely concerning. People have attempted to make more diverse rom-coms over the past few years, but they all seem to be lacking one of the three core components of what makes a rom-com great: Relatable, realistic, and great chemistry. For example. Crazy Rich Asians was a fantastic film, but the high level of wealth that Nick Young comes from, made his character difficult to relate to, and I’m sorry but the chemistry just wasn’t there for me. Always Be My Maybe’s characters fell flat and it’s not a film I would want to watch more than once. Love Simon made some huge waves for LGBTQ representation in the media, but that ending kiss was unrealistic along with his friends reaction to fining out he was lying, which left the movie anti-climactic by the end. 

Now, the most recent film on this list was made in 2017. And before that 2013. So where have all the Rom Coms gone? Why don’t we see more of them. There are a few Rom Coms that could be contenders on the “Best” list from the last couple of years that include a small amount of diversity: 

Yesterday 7/10. The big question here is does this count as a romantic comedy? The love story isn’t the main plot, but is definitely a large sub-plot. This movie features an interracial couple and is highly re-watchable. The main characters are entertaining, relatable, and have pretty good chemistry. We will see if it stands the test of time. 

The Broken Hearts Gallery 7/10. This movie has gotten NO recognition. The main character, Lucy, is an extremely likable 20 something, not unlike our Ginnifer Goodwin in He’s Just not that Into You. The plot is fun and predictable but keeps you watching. I don’t know if this one will stay on my list long, but it’s definitely up there. 

But here is my challenge to Hollywood: create some new, beautiful Rom Coms that celebrate diversity but that don’t throw away the relatable, realistic, and high chemistry characters that we are just waiting to fall in love with. It’s got like 16 ideas up my sleeve, so just give me a call Hollywood.