#the others? surprising and good songs but fairly par for the course

[iclimbtreestofeelalive]

@myperfecttalia had me watch ride the cyclone today and. while theyre not My blorbos i definitely understand why theyre You Guys' blorbos. like yeah those guys are skrunkly! not my kinda skrunkly but i can see the appeal. i am wondering why there was alien cat sex tho

[all-the-fun-of-the-cirkus]

alright, first-time listen of the year no. 2 is hawks & doves by neil young, which is honestly a much weirder album than i was expecting

more than pretty much any other artist i tend to consider neil young a standalone album guy. take, say, genesis for instance; other than the odd aberration like the lamb, you can draw a clear line from trespass to invisible touch where every album is more or less a logical followup to its predecessor. neil young, on the other hand, just does whatever the fuck he wants. i mean, this comes after his proto-grunge album, but if you were just listening to his discography without any guide you'd put it right next to harvest, and i'd defy anyone to tell that this album came out in 1980. the standalone thing means you never really know what you're getting, and you certainly can't rely on other people to articulate it for you

the weirdest thing about this album is that it has a reputation as the Country One and as being a throwaway, which is arguably true... for side 2. but then the only songs from it people ever talk about are from side 1! it's baffling. and to be clear, side 2's alright; union man's a little too silly, but the first two tracks are enjoyable throwaways, comin' apart at every nail is... interesting, in a way i can't quite figure out yet, and the title track is alright (i haven't the foggiest whether it's a pisstake or a sincere statement, but that's par for the course with neil)

side 1, however, is excellent in its entirety. the thing that stood out to me, oddly enough, was neil's voice; it's real high in the mix, like he really wanted those lyrics clear, and he sound oddly tired and strained, particularly in little wing. wonder if that was intentional or if he really was just tired and strained. anyway everyone tips their hat to little wing, which is a great moody opener (it very much sounds like it was recorded in his bedroom, to its credit), but the obligatory "what the hell is he on about" track in the old homestead is the highlight for me. for some reason, it sounds to me musically like a more lowkey version of it's alright ma, and of course it's not as good as one of the greatest songs of all time, but there's a quiet intensity to the whole thing despite (or maybe because of) the absolutely baffling lyrics. fab arrangement, too; the saw could absolutely have been higher in the mix but burying it lends the whole song a really eeriness, and the stiff, martial drumming adds to the atmosphere too

the other two tracks are less impressive but still good; captain kennedy is a nice sea shanty pastiche, and lost in space is a fairly generic song absolutely jumping out of its skin to be interesting anyway (the frazzled, confused lyrics, the tempo changes, that weird nursery rhyme bit, the lovely dual guitar melody in the breaks). i think i actually might have more to say on this at some point but it's four in the morning, so. not an all-time great, but i was pleasantly surprised, good album

[sesamestreep]

Sam/Bucky for 28, "feeling for each other in the dark"

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ZAINAB!! here’s another small entry in that TFATWS/HGTV AU🏡 🛠❤️ (wow that’s a lot of acronyms!) that I keep promising to write for you and never do! i hope you like it and I hope you’ve had a wonderful day with absolutely no electrical issues whatsoever 🍰💖

Bucky finds this whole social media thing baffling, if he’s being honest. Sam would laugh—has laughed, when he’s said it before—and call him an old man, which is fine. Maybe even fair. He’s certainly not young anymore, and if this is the way of the future, he may have to make peace with becoming a relic. But for now, he’s trying.

He’s pretty good at being in front of a camera, though that’s less about well-honed skill and more about pure instinct at this point. When they were growing up, Steve’s mom used to call him a “charming varmint,” with the way he’d chase after girls he liked and sweet talk his way out of trouble with shopkeepers and teachers. Being on camera, he figures, is more or less the same thing, trying to charm people enough that they keep paying attention.

No, the thing that’s truly baffling about social media is the way you’ve got to film everything, and you’ve got to be on all the time, and you’ve got to slow down and explain everything you’re doing so that people can replicate it, because that’s apparently why they’re watching. (Except when it’s for something called ASMR, which Sarah attempted to explain to him once and he only felt more confused afterwards somehow.) Bucky’s good at what he does, but he’s not convinced anyone should be basing their life choices off of him, even just the ones related to contracting and home improvement, fields where he is ostensibly an expert.

Sam says this is all par for the course, that it’s normal to feel weird about all the attention, because it is objectively pretty fucking weird. Millions of people follow them now. There’s simply no other way to describe it other than bizarre.

Thankfully, today’s assignment is fairly light on the social media fuckery that Bucky doesn’t understand. All Sam has asked him to do is set up his phone to record himself pressure washing and sanding the back deck of the house. Despite his objections that it will be boring for people to watch, Sam insists that, once they speed up the footage, people will find the repetition soothing, and the transformation at the end will be impressive. All of that allegedly will turn into likes and shares and a bunch of other metrics Bucky can’t think about too hard without giving himself a stress headache. According to Sarah, who’d been sitting at the kitchen table with them and nodding along the whole time as Sam explained this, the video Sam is describing will “do numbers,” which is a haunting phrase and most of Bucky’s acquiescence was to avoid having it explained to him any further.

“We’ll put that Harry Styles song you pretend not to like over the footage,” Sam had said, with a wide grin. “People will love it.”

“If you say so,” Bucky grumbled, secretly grateful they’d returned to a metric he could actually understand. Liking or disliking something; that makes sense to him.

That had been a few hours and a trip to the hardware store ago, and he was finally getting around to setting up his phone to record. After double-checking the angles, and ensuring he had enough battery left to capture the whole process, he went to plug in the pressure washer so he could get started. When he pressed the power button on the machine, though, nothing happened. He tried unplugging it and plugging it back in with the same exact result. He cursed under his breath, worried that this brand new piece of equipment might be broken and he’d have to hound someone at the store about it, which would ultimately just set them back a full day on this project. Before he does that, though, he decides to plug in the sander, just to be sure it’s the washer and not to outlet. To his surprise, the sander won’t turn on either.

He doesn’t remember Sam or Sarah mentioning this outlet as one that doesn’t work, and once he thinks about it, he remembers using it for the leaf blower last weekend. He stands, wiping his palms on his jeans, and squints into the house to see if he can spot Sam. He can’t, but he does notice the overhead light above the stove isn’t on, which is odd. Sam is always complaining that Sarah and the boys leave that on all the time, even when they’re not home, which wears out the bulb. So far, his complaints about it have mostly resulted in his sister and nephews roasting him for being uptight, and the light will stay on all day unless Sam himself sees it and goes through the trouble of clicking it off (which he almost always forgets to do, which only compounds the roasting he receives from his family).

Now that he’s looking, Bucky can see that the clock on the stove—normally an alarmingly bright red LED display that Sarah hates but not enough to replace the stove, despite it being older than both of her children and always cooking chicken unevenly—is out, too. He goes to stop the recording on his phone, and can’t connect to the wi-fi, which confirms his suspicion that the power is out for the whole house. He knows Sam was supposed to be re-organizing some stuff in the basement, so he decides to go check on him before he tries to find out if it’s just them or if the neighborhood lost power.

Using the flashlight on his phone, he descends the basement stairs carefully. “Sam?” he calls out, into the darkness.

“Buck?” Sam calls from the other end of the room. He holds his own phone, also set to flashlight mode, aloft and waves it, to get Bucky’s attention.

“You alright?” Bucky asks, and he hadn’t really, truly been worried—Sam can take care of himself just fine—but he feels himself finally relax seeing him in one piece.

“Yeah…” Sam replies, but there’s something hesitant about it.

“Oh, god, you’re not hurt, are you?” Bucky asks, nearly tripping over himself to cross the room and get closer to Sam. In his haste, he drops his phone, which makes everything harder to see and he ends up colliding with a stack of boxes that he’s fairly sure contain Cass and AJ’s baby clothes. As he stumbles to avoid crushing the boxes, he reaches out a hand to steady himself and finds Sam already waiting, arm outstretched, to catch him. He clamors to grab his hand in the dim light.

“I’m fine,” Sam says, his voice gentle now that he’s up close. “You good?”

“Yeah, all good,” he replies, trying very hard to act like a guy who didn’t just absolutely embarrass himself in front of his boyfriend. He clears his throat, awkwardly. “Did the power go out while you were down here?”

“Yeah, while I was down here…”

“Do you think we should call some of the neighbors? You know, make sure they still have power, see if they need anything?”

Sam rubs his neck, looking nervously at the floor. “That won’t be necessary, actually,” he says. “I’m pretty sure it’s just us that lost power.”

“How do y—?” Bucky starts to ask, before realization dawns. He narrows his eyes. “Samuel, you didn’t!”

“I was just trying to—!”

“I know what you were trying to do, but what you actually did was fuck with the breakers! Sarah’s gonna kill you!”

“Woah, first of all, nobody has to tell Sarah anything!” Sam says, desperately. “And secondly, I know what I’m doing here, okay? Something just went wrong!”

“What, Sam?” Bucky asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “What went wrong?”

“I… well…I haven’t figured that out yet.”

“Uh-huh. So much for knowing what you’re doing.”

Sam pouts at him, which is, unfortunately, kind of cute. “Hey!”

“Sam, sweetheart, you are excellent at almost everything you do. It is, honestly, upsetting how talented you are,” Bucky says, with as much patience as he can muster. “That talent does not extend to electrical work. It is the one thing on earth you’re not good at. It’s your Achilles heel. Just accept that and stop messing with the wiring in your sister’s house!”

“I prefer to think of electrical work more as my white whale,” Sam says, clearly trying to be charming. “Like, I just need to keep at it and eventually it will all work out.”

“Spoken like someone who has absolutely never read ‘Moby Dick,’” Bucky replies.

“Whatever,” he says, with a shrug. “Are you going to help me with these breakers or not?”

“I will take a look at them on one condition.”

“Okay, name it.”

“I need to hear four little words from you, in exchange for my help.”

Sam looks back and forth between the fuse box and Bucky in confusion for a moment. “I love you…” he says, sounding unsure. Then, he takes a second to count it out on his hands. “…Bucky.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, trying to avoid the smile threatening to burst forth at any moment. “I love you too, but that actually wasn’t what I was looking for.”

Sam looks even more confused at that and appears to think even harder about the answer. Bucky raises an eyebrow at him, waiting. Eventually, Sam sighs, deeply.

“I’ll hire an electrician,” he promises, petulantly.

“That’s my guy,” Bucky says, planting a kiss on his forehead on his way over to the fuse box.

[devilatmydoor]

Anna!! Angel!! Congrats on 1K babe 💕 Can I request a lil something for “After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?” with Luke? -blackbutterfliescal💛

Brooke!!! You are the angel omg!  I hope you like this, I got a little carried away, surprise surprise  😅

“After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?” 

___________

3 months, that was less than a semester at school but it felt so much longer. It may not be  the first time he had been on tour for weeks on end but to no surprise on your end -  it felt like the first time all over again.  You kept replaying the morning he left for tour in your head;  how long he held you in his arms,  the way he smelled and how soft his voice was not wanting to let go of you. Neither of you wanted to be separated from each other for 3 months but someone needed to watch Petunia and take care of the house, he trusted you the most so you opted to stay home. It seemed like a fairly easy decision at the time, until the first week without him dragged on for what felt like a month. You couldn’t sleep because he held you at night and talked to you until you fell asleep, you couldn’t eat due to the fact that you both cooked together or ordered take out, listening to music was daunting trying to find songs that didn’t remind you of him or how you felt about him.

He called when he had time, texted you every day when he finished a show and when they arrived in the next city. He sent pictures of his outfits before going on stage when he remembered and asked how your day was and how it went no matter how tired he was.

The last time you spoke to him on the phone was almost 4 days ago, the longest you’ve gone without talking to each other. He couldn’t hide how much he missed you if he tried, his voice soft and endearing. You waited until you knew their show was finished and dialed his number, after 3 rings it picked up and he answered, "Hey baby, I was just about to call you."

The sound of his sweet voice made your heart swell, "Oh yeah? I missed hearing your voice."

"I know, I'm sorry I've been in a weird mood lately" He admitted followed by a sigh. You were starting to put the pieces together why you hadn't spoken to you in a while, he hated calling you and bringing your spirits down. That didn't mean that you preferred not hearing from him, hearing from him even if he was feeling down was much better than not hearing from him at all.

"Luke, you could've called me."

"Baby I didn't think you wanted to hear from me." His voice defeated on the other line made your heart ache. You couldn't physically do anything to help him but send your unwavering support.

"Why wouldn't I want to hear from you?" You asked, hoping he'd realize that you wanted to hear from him no matter what.

"I don't know. Hows petunia?" His voice wasn't as animated as it usually was when he asked about her.

Something was up with him and you had a feeling he wasn't going to tell you, "She's good, sleeps on her giant bed in our room."

"Yeah? I'm surprised she doesn't sleep with you." He mentioned followed by yet another sigh.

You were shocked he didn't make a remark about how he missed sleeping next to you. The both of you always said you slept better next to each other than alone.

"She sleeps with me when I'm on the couch, how was the show tonight?"

You could hear him cough and say something to Ashton before answering, "It was good, the crowd new every lyric including our new songs.”

“That’s great, where are you headed tonight?”

It took a minute to respond, “Pittsburg, I think.”

Luke usually knew where he was headed next, at least he tried to. You couldn’t help but wonder what was going on that he was being so secretive, “Luke I’m worried about you.”

“I don’t need you to worry about me! I can take care of myself!” He said angrily before hanging up on you completely. He never hung up on you on purpose, he always said goodbye and I love you, no matter what.

Something was going on with him and you were determined to figure out what, you weren’t sure how you’d figure out what it was. You couldn’t sleep after your conversation with Luke, the way he abruptly ended the conversation scared you in ways you couldn’t explain.

__

A week had gone by since your last phone call with Luke, he didn’t even text you to let you know where they were. You asked the boys to let you know if he was okay and safe, it wasn’t him but it was enough for the time being. You longed to hear his voice but you knew bothering him wasn’t going to help, it was hard not blowing up his phone but you wanted him to come to you.

Your phone vibrated against the nightstand waking you up abruptly, you grabbed your phone before it fell on the floor. You answered it before fully waking up and realizing who was even calling you, “Hello?”

“Did I wake you darling?” The familiar voice on the other line alarmed you, she usually texted you causing you to wake up.

“Yes but it’s okay Mrs. Hemmings, are you guys okay?” You asked as you sat up on the matress.

“Call me Liz darlin’. It’s not us I’m calling about. It’s Luke.” She sighed and you got up from the bed in anticipation of what she’d say.

“What about Luke?” You asked nervously as your heart rate sped up by the second.

“He misses you, more than he ever has. Last night’s show didn’t go well and he needs you. He’s not listening to any of the boys.” You weren’t sure how to feel about what Liz told you but you knew what you had to do.

“Thank you for calling me, I didn’t think he missed me that much. I’m gonna fly out there as soon as I can.” You sniffled as you tried to hide your emotions.

“Of course, sorry I woke you. Get some rest okay?” She comforted it before you said your goodbyes. You got out of bed and grabbed your laptop and turned it on illuminating the room. You looked at the tour dates and found the next show, searching various websites before finding a ticket tonight at 8pm. You texted the rest of the boys to inform them of your visit and to not let Luke know so he wouldn’t try and stop you.

After waking up fully you packed your bags and prepared yourself for yourself for what was to come. To your surprise the airport wasn't as busy and your flight was okay as far as flights went, the air was stuffy and the snacks were sub par. When you landed you immediately let the boys know so they could tell you where to go, they sent you the address to the venue and you anxiously sat in the backseat of the uber. Your nerves took over as your hands shook and your heart raced, once the uber dropped you off you grabbed your bags and waited for Ashton to meet you.

“Thank god you’re here, he’s been in a mood all day.” Ashton divulged as he walked with you backstage.

“I hope I can help.”

“Michael and Calum are on the bus to give you both some space.” Ashton mentioned as he stopped in front of the door, he slowly opened it and said “Hey Lu, someone’s here to see you.”

“Maybe I don’t want to see them.” You heard Luke say sassily as Ashton stepped out of the doorway so you could enter the room. Luke was laying down on the couch, looking at his phone. You cleared your throat and his eyes met yours. He sat up straight and cleared his throat, “Baby?”

You closed the door behind you as you walked up to him, “Hi baby, your mom called me.”

He sighed deeply before standing up to meet you, “You didn’t have to come.” His voice defeated as he ran his fingers through his curls.

“Do you not want me here?” It took everything in you not to cry at his words, he looked exhausted

He shook his head and grabbed your hand, your fingers intertwined as he led you to the couch, “Of course I do, I just don’t want you seeing me like this.”

“Why wouldn’t I? Luke talk to me.”

You both sat down on the couch and he let go of your hand slowly, “I’ve just been thinking a lot; you deserve better than me. I’m never home long enough for us to spend the quality time together that we need. I’m not good enough for you, you deserve someone who is always there and giving you everything. I wouldn’t be mad if you wanted a break or didn’t love me.”

“After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think I love you?” You sighed before holding his face in your hands, “Baby, I’m so in love with you Luke. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life. I don’t want anyone else, I want to be with you.”

“I love you so much, I don’t want to be with anyone but you. You deserve the world.”

“You are my world, Luke. You are more than good enough.” You kissed his lips softly as he held your waist.

“I love you.” He whispered on your lips before kissing your lips again, he picked you up bringing you into his lap, “I’m so happy your here, I missed you.”

“I know, I’ll stay as long as you need me.” You wrapped your arms around his neck as he nuzzled his head in your shoulder hugging your waist tight. ��

tagging my faves - @sanrioluke @twilightmomentswithyou @blackbutterfliescal @suchalonelysunflower @honeybunchcalum @himbocalum @lukeysdimples

[welllpthisishappening]

Carol of the [Wedding] Bells

It all happens fairly quickly and he doesn’t remember much of it, which, really, seems fairly unfair from where Killian is sitting. Or, laying. Technically. He’s still laying in bed. With Emma next to him. And matching rings on either one of their fingers. On Christmas Eve. In Vegas.

Rating: Like a pretty solid T Word Count: Just under 8K. The prompts, they’re getting longer. Let’s all act super surprised. AN: So, in an effort to make things look a bit nicer, I’m going to post the Festive Fic Prompt a Thon stories on their own, outside of the asks. Today’s prompt from a lovely anon is: "we accidentally got married in vegas oops.” We’ve got pining, we’ve got friends to lovers, we’ve got opinionated Ariel, we’ve got thoughts on the Rat King in the Nutcracker.

|| Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll ||

-------

His head is going to snap in half.

He kind of hopes it does. It will presumably be more comfortable than whatever is happening behind his right eye, a dull throb and pounding that times up far too closely with his pulse, making Killian’s stomach heave and his mouth is very dry.

He’s not entirely sure where he is.

It’s not very warm.

That is...surprising.

The whole schtick of this place is its warmth. A dry heat and whatnot. He swallows, feeling like his mouth is full of cotton balls with a tongue that is questionably large, blinking against the light streaming in through unfamiliar curtains and—

Bouncing off the band of metal sitting on his finger.

Maybe his head has already cracked. Maybe he’s cracked.

In a psychological sense.

Killian blinks. Once, twice, three times, but the metal doesn’t move and the pain behind his eye appears to be drifting down his spine and he’s so goddamn cold because the other person draped across the majority of the bed has stolen nearly all the blankets.

There’s a bit of fabric clinging to his left heel.

“Holy fu—” he breathes, the rest of the word getting caught in a throat that suddenly feels as if it’s collapsing in on himself.

He can hear his heart pounding against his rib cage, another noise his head does not appreciate and his eyes are starting to water.

He’d blinked enough already. He assumes he’s physically incapable now.

Because now things are starting to piece together, even through the fog and the metaphorical cotton balls, smiles and laughter and far too much alcohol, missed flights and East coast snowstorms, changed plans and new plans and—

Emma mumbles something in her sleep.

So, maybe he’ll just die here.

That would probably be easier to deal with.

“Swan,” Killian says, but his voice doesn’t even sound like him. It scratches its way out of his throat, rough and maybe still a little drunk and...married.

To Emma Swan. Presumably.

God, he really can’t remember.

That is...disappointing.

“Swan,” he repeats, and it takes more than a moment to flip over, another twist of his stomach and clench of his jaw, and Emma makes more noise. Less disappointing. Endearing, even. This is a problem. A bad problem. The worst problem. “Swan, c’mon, love—”

Killian reaches his hand out, lets the pads of his fingers drift over the curve of her elbow, even when it’s still covered by blankets with an astoundingly high thread count. He’s going to choke on his tongue.

It’s growing.

He’s positive.

Taking up far too much real estate in his mouth, a biological defense mechanism because love has always seemed to roll right off that same tongue when Emma Swan is involved, but now it sounds far too big and much too heavy, and Killian cannot think about both his tongue and Emma Swan in the same sentence.

Not when he’s— “Why are you talking to me?” Emma grumbles. He laughs. He doesn’t mean to, but that’s apparently par for the course of the last twelve hours and at some point he’s going to promise that this is all Will’s fault.

And global warming.

If it hadn’t been snowing in New York and Boston, then everyone else would have been able to get to Las Vegas. For Christmas. As planned.

Mary Margaret’s plan, really. There was a schedule and we’ve never done this before and that had been reason enough for everyone to buy plane tickets and book hotels and Emma had called Killian almost immediately to ask do you think we can bribe a hotel clerk to put us in rooms next to each other. Which had almost led to his heart bruising his ribs.

What with all the faster-than-normal beating and being in love with Emma Swan and whatever.

Whatever.

Emma Swan. His wife.

Holy fuck.

“Seriously your voice is so loud,” Emma continues. “Are they doing construction outside or something? It’s too early for that.” “I have no idea what time it is, actually.”

“It’s probably not construction, is it?” “No, I don’t think so.”

“But...you’re here. Yeah?” Killian hums, pointedly ignoring the flicker of hope that appears in the back of his brain at those particular words in that particular order. As if she’d want that.

As if she’d want— They’re friends.

They’re...best friends. He knows things about her. She knows things about him. Good things, not so good things, things they’ve shared together, quiet moments and easy smiles, the growing sense that it’s just a bit easier to breathe around Emma Swan than any other human being on the planet.

They text. They FaceTime. On a schedule. One that Killian would argue is far better than Mary Margaret’s Christmas in Vegas extravaganza. He and Emma have known each other forever, have settled into their roles in the friendship group; the tag-alongs. The extra pairs, third wheels and sad ones with no designated other and this is really Will’s fault. He was supposed to get to Vegas before Mary Margaret and David.

“Here, Swan,” Killian whispers when he realizes Emma is still waiting on an answer.

He needs to find his phone.

He needs to Google things.

“Ok, good. That’s good, just—go back to sleep, ok?”

Her lips barely move when she speaks, burrowing further into the cocoon of blankets she’s created for herself, hair a riotous mess on multiple pillows and the smudges of black in the corners of her eyes make it obvious that neither one of them did much more than collapse into bed the night before.

They’re still wearing clothes.

So, that’s something.

Killian licks his lips. He’s not sure when he started breathing out of his mouth, but he’s suddenly all too aware of it, like every inhale is a particular challenge and he briefly wonders if she can feel whatever it is he’s feeling because the pinch that appears between her brows is rather sudden.

“Swan, Emma, it’s a—” Her eyes fly open, a blazing gaze that Killian swears cuts him right down the middle and stitches him back together. All at the same time.

“Wait,” she snaps. “You’re here.” “Yuh huh.” “In my room. This hotel room.” “Yup.” “And a bed.” “Also true.” “What are you—” “—I, uh,” Killian cuts in, and that’s probably not the best course of action. He bites back the urge to make another golf-related pun. To himself. Emma hasn’t blinked yet. “What do you remember about last night?” She shrugs, lower lip jutted out slightly. He’s got to stop staring at her lips. “I don’t—we were...did we come up with a song to go with the slot machine?” “Yuh huh.”

“Seriously, what is your deal right now? That’s—I mean, we were drunk, but—” Emma stops so abruptly Killian is fairly certain the world has also stopped spinning for a second. Until her hand jerks forward, as if she’s going to swat at his shoulder like it’s any other morning and any other day and he bites down on the side of his tongue. It’s bleeding.

The whole thing is oddly poetic in an entirely depressing sort of way.

Because Emma’s eyes bugs. Her jaw drops. Her exhale is impossibly loud.

“What is that?” Emma exclaims, jumping up and taking the blankets with her. She sways when she gets to her feet, gritting her teeth, and Killian reaches out on something like instinct.

She hisses.

The light glints off his ring again, casting weird shadows across Emma’s face and the dress she’s wearing and she’s still wearing a dress. It’s not white. It’s red and good and great and Killian feels some of the tension that had lingered between his shoulders dissipate as soon as his eyes sweep across her.

This is bad.

And not—

No, bad. Horrible, terrible, an absolute mistake.

Emma runs a hand over her face, fingers moving to pinch the bridge of her nose as she tries to catch her breath. Killian can still taste blood in his mouth. “Ok,” she says, all forced calm, “so, uh—we made up the jingle, song thing and then—” “—Jingle implies that it was an advertisement for the slot machines, doesn’t it?” “Oh my God, you’re making jokes.” Killian nods. “Yeah, a few.” “They’re not funny.” “Has that ever been the case, though?” One side of her mouth tilts up. “I hate you.” “That seems reasonable, all things considered.”

Emma huffs, tugging on the end of her hair like she does when she’s nervous and Killian doesn’t want her to be nervous around him, but he also didn’t expect to wake up married to the best friend he’s spent years pining for, so. Maybe nothing makes sense anymore.

“This is real?” Of all the questions Emma could have asked, standing barefoot in her own hotel room, with, Killian assumes, her own fairly awful hangover, that is not the one he expected to hear.

He expected more shouting.

If he’s being honest.

He nods again, slower that time. “Yeah, I think so.” “Ok, so, uh—” She clicks her teeth, more than once, as if she’s trying to work out some sort of residual energy and that dress is incredibly distracting. Being in love with her is incredibly distracting. “Did we win money last night?” “Quite a bit, if memory serves.” “And does it? Serve?” “Comes and goes in waves,” Killian admits, propping himself up on his elbows. Emma’s mouth does something else. “Scarlet called, do you remember that part?” “To tell us that he was stuck at JFK with Ruby and Belle?” “Yeah. And David and Mary Margaret couldn’t get out of Storybrooke—” “—Well, that’s because the entire town probably has like two pounds of road salt available, so—” “—Four pounds, maybe.” “The jokes,” Emma groans, but there’s not really any frustration to the words and that’s always been the case. The problem, maybe. It’s all too easy.

With her.

And them.

As a unit.

Killian’s eyes flicker to his ring. “Anyway. Scarlett called, gave a progress report on the great Nor’easter of 2019, Mary Margaret might have shed a few tears over her schedule and—” “—Wait until she finds out what we did,” Emma mutters.

The tension returns. Tenfold. It sinks under Killian’s skin and wraps around every one of his bones, slinks through his veins and settles between muscle fibers, threatening to push him into the mattress.

A muscle in Emma’s jaw jumps. ‘I just—” she starts, both hands waving in front of her. “Well, it’s not exactly like getting—”

That muscle is going to fly out of her face. That wasn’t on Mary Margaret’s schedule either. Emma flushes when she can’t finish the sentence, tugging both of her lips behind her teeth. Killian tries not to lift his eyebrows.

It doesn’t work.

He knows as soon as Emma sighs.

“So,” she continues pointedly, “we got the phone call, decided to—” “—Take in the sights of the strip. That’s a verbatim quote by you.” “God, did we start drinking here?” Killian points a finger towards the mini-bar, door still half-open and most of the shelves empty. “Context clues.” “And that led to the casino and the slots and then we won, so…” “I believe the term celebration was used several times.” Emma hums noncommittally, color still dotting her cheeks even when she does her best to bore her eyes into the tiny bit of carpet between her feet. And Killian holds his breath.

He counts to ten. Twenty. Forty-seven.

Backwards, too.

Because the memories keep settling into place, quick flashes of moments and earnest conversation, roaming hands and smiles that would put even the most rhinestone-covered outfit to shame.

Her hand had been very warm in his all night.

And there’d been—

He wishes he didn’t know how soft Emma’s lips were when he kissed her.

At least not like that.

“Right, right,” Emma mumbles. “And, uh—Chapel of the Bells?” “There was a Christmas joke involved there.” “Oh my God, by you or me?” “I honestly can’t remember.” Emma makes a noise previously never heard by human ears. It leaves her whole body bent in half and Killian’s heart shattering in his chest, far too much emotion for a drunken-fueled elopement, but he’s still having a very hard time coming to terms with the dress and the way she keeps twisting strands of hair around her finger and—

He’s already spent too much time thinking about this.

It seems exceptionally unfair that it ended up like this.

“How did we get a license? Don’t you have to have a license in Vegas or is that just for responsible cities with real rules?” “It’s a pretty scathing review of Las Vegas,” Killian says with half a grin. “We looked up that place, didn’t we? The Bell place.” “Oh call it the Bell place from now on, please.” She glares. “The jokes have got to stop. This is—ok, so the Bell place had packages. That’s...I remember that. We went in and we signed things and I had flowers. Like...roses, did you pick those out?” He’s the one blushing now, a heat in his cheeks and lingering at the base of his spine. Whatever inhale Killian takes does not do much to assuage the tightening in his lungs. “Yeah,” he mutters. “I wanted you to have something nice.”

It’s not an admission, per se.

It’s a fact, really.

But Emma’s eyes flicker up and he would swear in front of a variety of judges that there’s a hint of emotion on the edge, her own brand of want that he’s coveted for far longer than he’s willing to admit.

“And now we’re….” “Yuh huh,” Killian repeats, not able to say the actual word. So, he’s really a giant coward is what he is.

“How do we not be that?” It’s for the best that his heart has already cracked because the rest of him feels like it’s falling off in rather large hunks and that’s a disgusting thought, but Killian can still taste blood in his mouth and Emma won’t meet his gaze anymore and—

HIs phone is ringing somewhere.

“Do you need to get that?” Emma asks, soft enough that he can barely hear her. Killian blinks. Multiple times. Again.

“No, that’s—” “—You should probably get your phone, Killian. It’s, um...I mean we need to figure this out, right?” He makes a noise, is only aware that he nods when the muscles in his neck ache with the movement. Emma squeezes her eyes closed. “Because,” she continues, “it’s just a drunken thing. Yeah? That’s—I bet it happens to people all the time. This is like Vegas’ slogan.” “Drunk things brought about by delayed flights and the Christmas spirit?”

Emma’s lips twitch. “That’s verbatim too, huh?” “Something like that.” HIs phone stops ringing. And immediately starts again.

“Get that,” Emma repeats. “I’m, uh—why did we come back here, though?” “You were very certain you had the best sheets in the entire hotel.” “They’re stupid soft, aren’t they?” “I wouldn’t know, you stole all of them in the middle of the night.”

“I’m sorry.” And he can hear the apology for what it is, far more than bedding or questionably cold internal body temperature. For everything.

A mistake neither one of them wanted to make for entirely different reasons.

Killian stands up slowly, careful when he steps into Emma’s space and he’s at least eighty-two percent positive the sun is doing this reflecting thing on purpose. He ignores it, lets his head drop half an inch until his forehead is nearly resting on hers and his heart has made a miraculous recovery, hammering away in his chest like it’s trying to prove a point and—

She turns her head when his fingers graze her cheek, eyes fluttering shut.

“We’ll fix it, Swan,” Killian promises, the words like acid on his tongue. He’s really being the most dramatic groom.

She hums, a quick nod and hint of a smile. “Sounds like a plan.”

And, really, it’s stupid.

It’s idiotic and dumb and wrong, on some sort of fundamental level, but Killian’s moving before he’s even processed any of those words and Emma doesn’t do anything more than exhale softly as son as his lips brush over the crown of her head.

So, points.

Or whatever.

His phone vibrates off the table a few feet away.

By the time Killian reaches his phone Ariel has called fourteen times, which seems a little— “Excessive,” he says, but that only gets him a screech-like sound and he’s not sure how much more of this his body can take.

As a whole.

“Are you kidding me?” “Say words.” “These are words,” Ariel sneers. She’s pacing. He can hear the floor creaking in what he can only imagine is her living room or bedroom and the specifics don’t really matter because she’s far too preoccupied with yelling at him to be concerned with the structural integrity of her house. “These are very—”

“—Opinionated words?” Killian suggests.

“You told me.” “Wait, what?” “Oh not so high and mighty now, are we?” “Ariel, I really do not have time for this. I’ve got to look shit up and—” “—You know it’s Christmas Eve, right? You probably won’t be able to talk to a lawyer today. Or tomorrow for that matter.”

His legs lock, glancing down to make sure his stomach has not actually fallen on the floor. No such luck. That would have been a good excuse for getting off the phone.

“Got you there, don’t I?” “Are you playing games, right now?” “No,” Ariel says, but the way her laugh clings to her voice makes Killian wonder all sorts of things he shouldn’t. If only because they make his blood run a bit cold. Or, colder. He still hasn’t really recovered from the blanket theft.

“Are you?” she adds.

Killian’s going to bite his tongue in half by the end of the day.

Maybe the end of the morning.

“Did I call you last night?” he asks softly, ducking further into the corner like that will stop his voice from traveling across the room.

Emma’s on the phone too.

“Several times,” Ariel replies, not bothering to disguise her laugh anymore. “Each one got progressively more excited. It was honestly almost nice.” “Almost?” “Almost. Because, uh—did you really actually do it?” He’s frozen. Stuck. Stock-still in the corner with the shadow and his own regret and he’s already lost track of the number of times he’s looked at his ring.

Killian’s got to stop thinking of it like that.

It’s far too possessive.

“Your silence is deafening,” Ariel murmurs.

“Shut up.” “The honeymoon’s over, huh?”

“Seriously, shut up.”

“Killian,” Ariel says, voice going placating. He narrows his eyes at open air. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“Don’t you have better things to do?”

“Right now? No.”

“You might want to reexamine your priorities.”

“Oh, don’t be a dick. I’m worried about you.”

“Me? Why?”

The breadth of Ariels’ reactionary noises would be impressive in any other situation. As it is, they’re mostly just annoying and Killian needs to take a shower. And down a fistful of Ibuprofen.

“You’re really kidding me, aren’t you?” Ariel challenges. “Oh my God, that’s—how long would you say you’ve been madly in love with your best friend?”

Silence. It’s not his first choice, but his tongue is doing that thing again and Emma’s voice is getting sharper on the other side of the room.

Ariel hums. “It’s so obvious. Even before the elopement. I mean—I was not joking about the messages. You should probably make sure you didn’t take out ad space in whatever the major Las Vegas newspaper is.”

“The Las Vegas Review Journal.” “God, you’re such a dweeb.” “Was this the worry?”

“You love that girl,” Ariel says matter of factly. “And you have forever. And it’s—she is so ridiculously into you—” “—What?” Killian growls, hand going tight enough around his phone that he’s worried he’s going to snap it in half. That might not be the worst thing in the world.

“People do not just marry their best friends.” “There was a lot of alcohol involved.” “What’s that saying about drunk thoughts and actions?” His eyes flicker towards Emma, swallowing back his retort because he wants, wants, wants, with every single fiber of his being and every reason why he hasn’t taken his ring off yet and—

“Silence,” Ariel mutters. “You should tell her at some point that you’d like to date her while you’re married.” “We’re not staying married.” “That’s stupid.” “That’s practical.” “When is romance practical?” “Ariel.” “Killian,” she says, and he rolls his eyes towards the ceiling. It hurts. “You really did sound happy last night.” “You’re getting sentimental on me.” “You’re a martyr, you know that?” “Nah,” he objects. “It’s just—” “—Oh say, it’s complicated, please.” “It is.” Ariel clicks her tongue. “Sure it is. Seriously, you may want to double check on the newspaper ads. And other voicemails. From both of your phones.” He’s going to say something. It will be scathing and it will get the smile he’s sure is taking up most of the space on Ariel’s face to disappear, but then Emma is walking towards him, nerves practically rolling off her in waves. “I, uh—I called Mary Margaret last night.” “Told you,” Ariel yells. Killian snarls into the phone. She cackles.

Emma scrunches her nose. “So, she’s called me like forty-seven times. They’re still trying to get to Logan and apparently Scarlet did get on a flight. Ruby yelled and Belle pleaded and it was a whole thing, so they’re on their way here and—” “—They’re probably bringing gifts,” Ariel shouts.

“Is that Ariel?” Killian hums. “She’s very bored on Christmas break. Mind gone soft and so now she’s just determined to do permanent damage to my hearing and—” “—You are a dick,” Ariel says, making sure to pause between each word. For emphasis.

“Did you call Ariel?” Emma asks.

“Something about good news and it traveling fast.” She lets out a strangled sound between gritted teeth, nose still scrunched and far more attractive than any nose has any right to be. “Keep that in mind because Mary Margaret in all her overprotective wonder passed our tidings of great joy—” “—Look who’s making jokes now.” “She told Regina.”

Killian curses.

“Who was,” Emma continues, “as judgmental as you’d expect her to be, but also full of legal advice and promises that an annulment isn’t just possible, but is exactly what we should be doing and—are you ok?” “Hmmm?” “You’re doing that thing with your face.” “I have no face thing.” “Killian.” “Swan.” “Didn’t we do this before?” “Oh my God, how we were you not already married?” Ariel cries. Killian hangs up on her, stuffing his phone back in his pocket. It buzzes immediately.

“Where’s the inevitable but in this string of instructions?” Killian asks.

Emma smiles. Honest. Real. A little nervous, still, but something almost close to the expression Killian has started to consider his and that’s insane. He’s insane.

God, they’re married.

They are married.

He’s not sure he doesn’t want to be.

“Mind reader.” “Regina wouldn’t be able to make it easy.” “I’m not sure if it’s her or national holidays and our timing,” Emma shrugs. “But, uh—well, she said that we talk to lawyer, figure out the right reason for the annulment and then it shouldn’t take more than two weeks. We just—need it to not be Christmas.” “Meaning?” “Meaning our friends are on their way and we won’t be able to do much about this,” she nods towards his hand, hanging limply at his side, “until December twenty-sixth.” “Right.” “The face.” “No face, love,” Killian says, another slip of the tongue and he’s got to stop. That seems harder than not being in love with her.

Emma quirks an eyebrow. “Mary Margaret said they should be here tonight. But that leaves us—” “—A schedule for today?” “The Nutcracker.” “A ballet?” Emma nods. “And she thought Scarlet would agree to go to that?” “I don’t think he did. There are only four tickets and she’s already sold hers and David’s, so it’s just—” “—Us.” “Us,” Emma repeats.

Killian takes a deep breath, forcing a smile. It doesn’t do much to convince Emma, he knows, but his phone is making noise and his heart is doing its best hummingbird impression.

She hasn’t taken her ring off.

He dimly remembers picking out rings.

With her.

They are married.

“So,” Emma says, “if you want to get ready, then—maybe we could get some breakfast or something?” “Yeah?” “Sounds like you’re double checking that I want to.” “I mean—” “—We’ll fix it,” she cuts in. “But there’s nothing we can really do now and if I don’t shower soon, I may go insane. Killian barks out a laugh. “That’s fair. I’ll meet you—” “—Back here?” “Ok.” “Ok.”

Approximately 12:30 a.m. Christmas Eve

“That one.” “Yeah?” “Is this you double checking?” Emma asks, glancing over her shoulder and there’s something about that exact shade of green in her eyes that has Killian leaning forward, catching her lips with his. They’re definitely in the double-digits, kiss-wise now. He’s not all that inclined to stop, a rush that moves through both of his arms and settles in the base of his heels every single time it happens, like it’s grounding him and sending him into orbit at exactly the same time.

It’s better than he thought it would be.

The way her head tilts and that soft sound she makes, like she’s breathing out any sense of worry or fear, just trying to inhale him instead, light scratches of her nails when her fingers find their way into his hair.

That keeps happening.

He curls an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest.

It leaves them impossibly close, like they’re trying to occupy the same few inches, or maybe just take up a bit more space in each other’s lives and Killian swears his head spins as soon as he feels her tongue brush his.

And the words bubble. They threaten. They rise up the back of his throat, feelings and desire and some rational part of him knows he should say them before they do this, but this seems to be happening and it kind of feels like a roller coaster.

Terrifying and exciting and he hopes he doesn’t lose his sunglasses when they flip upside down.

It’s admittedly a slightly jumbled metaphor.

But.

Then Emma is kissing him and the chapel worker coughs and she might giggle. He hoards the sound away. For later.

Forever.

“That one,” Emma repeats, tapping on the glass case it’s not much more than a thin band of white gold, but it could be her band of white gold and—

“Perfect,” Killian says.

From: Scarlet_Will@yahoo.com To: Killian.Jones@JonesShipping.com Subject: AHAHAHAHAHAHA

AHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA

IDIOT.

From: sherrif@storybrooke.gov To: Killian.Jones@JonesShipping.com Subject: [Empty]

If you mess this up, I may scream. God, you’re an idiot. Did you at least tell her you love her yet?

From: Scarlet_Will@yahoo.com To: Killian.Jones@JonesShipping.com CC: sherrif@storybrooke.gov

Subject: AHAHAHAHAHAHA PART TWO

David says you didn’t tell her you love her yet?????

Seriously, do you have a brain cell????? Like. One????

From: sherrif@storybrooke.gov To: Killian.Jones@JonesShipping.com Scarlet_Will@yahoo.com Subject: Re: AHAHAHAHAHAHA PART TWO

Braincell is one word, isn’t it?

From: Scarlet_Will@yahoo.com To: Killian.Jones@JonesShipping.com sherrif@storybrooke.gov Subject: Re: AHAHAHAHAHAHA PART TWO

Are you….are you kidding me?

From: Killian.Jones@JonesShipping.com To: Scarlet_Will@yahoo.com sherrif@storybrooke.gov Subject: Re: AHAHAHAHAHAHA PART TWO

Did you both pay for in-flight wifi to do this?

From: Will@yahoo.com To: sherrif@storybrooke.gov Subject: The Idiot

I don’t think he told her he loved her.

From: sherrif@storybrooke.gov To: Will@yahoo.com Subject: Re: The Idiot

Idiot.

He keeps glancing at her.

It’s not all that covert, despite Killian’s best efforts. And, really, he refuses to admit that it’s even remotely his fault, because Emma keeps making quiet sounds that catch his attention, eyes wide whenever a ballerina does something particularly impressive and he’s not sure she’s blinked the entire second act.

He’s cataloguing her reactions.

In a way that isn’t nearly as creepy as it sounds.

In...drunkenly married his best friend on Christmas Eve and can’t unmarry his best friend because of legal bullshit and might be falling a bit more in love with that same best friend while she watches The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies.

He thinks that’s what this is.

Like ninety-six percent positive.

“You’re missing everything,” Emma mumbles out one side of her mouth.

“No, I’m not.” “If you stare at me any harder, you’re going to drill a hole into the side of my head.” “You’d look weird then.” She muffles her laugh with her hand, sliding further into her seat, but then her eyebrows are flying up her forehead and he can still hear the exact way she gasps when even more dancers appear on stage, a sea of color and swelling music and—

Killian grabs her hand.

Instinct. More than instinct. Head over heels in love with her.

Any of those excuses work, really.

And Emma doesn’t pull her hand away, doesn’t flinch or do anything except lace her fingers around Killian’s, thumb brushing the back of his palm.

Her eyes don’t leave the stage.

Her hand doesn’t leave his.

He genuinely doesn’t remember how Clara got back to her house.

Magic, he assumes. Something about Christmas and—

“Mary Margaret is going to be so disappointed she didn’t see that,” Emma breathes as soon as the curtain falls, head snapping towards Killian. Her eyes are bright again, an excitement there that doesn’t match up with the nerves of the last few hours, but he assumes it might just be more magic, or some kind of something that is inherently them and the power of friendship.

Or, whatever.

He kind of hates that last part. “That was,” Emma says, “Just—God, that was so...pretty.” He grins.

“Oh, don’t make fun.” “I’m not,” Killian objects. “It was very pretty.” She clicks her tongue, thinks he’s teasing her, but it might be the most honest thing he’s said all day. Idiot, Idiot. Idiot. “You didn’t even watch any of it. You laughed at the Rat King.” “Well, that was kind of funny.” “They were threatening!” “I’m sure if I got shrunk down to the size of a toy, I would also think a rat wearing a crown was a threat. And Uncle Drosselmeyer was—” “—Let’s not talk about Uncle Drosselmeyer.” “Because he’s a giant creep?” Emma mutters something that sounds like bah humbug under her breath, standing up to starting moving towards an exit. Her thumb taps against Killian’s. “You’re mixing references, love.” She squeezes his hand.

He thinks. He doesn’t want to imagine that.

But he’s also getting very greedy and he hadn’t taken his ring off and she’s wearing a different dress. Blue this time.

He might give Uncle Drosselmeyer a run for his creep-type money. There’s a joke about slot machines in there, Killian is sure.

“So,” Emma says when they reach the lobby, “what do we do now?” “What else was on Mary Margaret’s schedule?” “I don’t know actually, um—probably dinner, but they all land around seven anyway and—” “—You don’t want to eat without them?” “That’s not a secret me avoiding you thing.” “No?” Killian asks, and he hopes she doesn’t hear the added emotion behind both letters. That would be embarrassing.

More than everything else.

He probably shouldn’t have spent an entire ballet matinee staring at her.

“No,” Emma echoes. She tugs on the front of his jacket, like will make the words ring truer. He’s admittedly staring at her still, though. So.

“You want to play slots again?”

Killian presses his tongue to the inside of his mouth, a flutter of nerves in the pit of his stomach. “A dangerous game, don’t you think?” “We were good at it.” “I don’t know if you can be good at slots, Swan. That’s just—luck and spin ratio and—” “—Oh my God, say spin ratio again please.” “I’m serious.” “I know, so am I.”

He considers that for a moment—lets the sound of her voice settle in the darker corners of his brain, the places only Emma is really aware of, lost moments and could-have-been and Killian is breathing out of his mouth again, but for as fucked up as this whole thing is and will be for the next forty-eight hours, existing in the same space as her has been as easy as ever.

Maybe better.

With white-gold shine added in.

“We’re going to have to get more coins.” “We’re capable of doing that.” “You don’t want to try blackjack or something?” Emma shakes her head. “Nah, the house is always going to wind up screwing you at all those table games and I don’t know how to count cards.” “Is that a requirement?” “Hollywood would suggest it is.” Killian chuckles, the desire to kiss her senseless rushing up his spine. As if that’s not his constant state of being. “Plus,” Emma adds, rocking forward until her head bumps his collarbone, “the slots are more fun with their lights and showmanship and it’s not quite so—” “—So what?” “Serious?” She asks it like she’s not sure she actually wanted to say the word and Killian’s answering inhale is far too sharp, his nod far too brusque. “Right,” he says, and he’d let the analogy go on for too long anyway. “You want to walk to a casino, or—” “—Yeah, that’s fine.” “Cool. Let’s go.”

Approximately 10 p.m., December 23rd

The lights are very loud.

Casinos by their very nature seem very loud. There are people and more people, roulette wheels and sound effects. Drink orders and music playing, shouting and cheering and booing, as if the cards give a fuck about human emotions and Killian’s feeling almost too existential with Emma plastered to his front, demanding more coins for the slot machine they’ve claimed as they’re own.

They win.

They keep winning.

It makes more noise.

And then—

“I like you,” Emma announces, spinning on the spot and her arms are draped over his shoulders and— “Yeah?” “Is this you double checking?” “Something like that,” Killian mumbles. His vision swims, half convinced this is a dream he’s had more than once. “Yeah.” “That was the answer, then?” “Yeah.” “A little more loquacious, love.”

Emma lets out a shaky laugh, color rising in her cheeks and the side of her neck, shuddering slightly when Killian tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. And it all kind of—

“I’d really like to kiss you,” he whispers. “Do it, then.”

He does.

They don’t win.

It seems almost too heavy-handed, an unnecessary message from the universe that they can’t have nice things or simple things and this isn’t either one of those things, but Killian found himself hoping somewhere during the curtain call of the Nutcracker and he’s starting to wonder if they can get their money back from the Chapel of the Bells. He should make a list of everyone he has to call.

They will all be monumentally depressing phone calls.

And Emma keeps sighing, his jacket hanging heavy on her shoulders because it’s Las Vegas, but she’s constantly cold and he’s nothing if not a glutton for punishment. She stuffs another coin into a machine that’s different than the one they played last night and the signs have got to stop. Killian is going to scream.

“Ah, shit,” Emma hisses, kicking a frustrated leg out when the machine shows three different fruits. “That’s—it’s garbage.” “Scathing.” “I’m losing all your money.” “Eh, some of it is yours.” “Is it?” “Mmhm, you didn’t want to carry your wallet and I took some of your cash.” Killian shrugs when Emma gapes at him. “We don’t really have much left, honestly.”

“God, that is so sad.” “Scarlet owes us drinks.” “How do you figure?” “I told him sixteen times he should have gotten on an earlier flight, but—” “—He’s a stubborn ass?” “That, exactly.” Emma chuckles, a little more watery than Killian would like it to be, but he also assumes most casinos are used to crying. Just in general. He needs to stop giving the casino a personality. “He thought it’d be cheaper to fly closer to the holiday. And flying makes him nervous, so—” “—No way.” “Did you not know that?” “No. Although I bet Ruby mocked him mercilessly for that the entire flight.” “What would you bet?” She smiles, teeth finding her lower lip like she’s worried the action is too big. For them. And this moment.

Of complete and utter awkwardness.

Someone wants to use their machine.

“Alright, alright, alright,” Killian growls, an arm around Emma’s waist when he pulls her away. The woman, her coin bucket jangling noisily when she plops onto the plastic seat, grimaces at them, but she doesn’t actually speak and—“Let’s play a different game, love,” he says.

They don’t.

Killian didn’t really expect them to, what with their decreasing funds and a ring on his hand that seems determined to pull him into the Earth and he’s got to say something. He needs to say everything, but saying anything is suddenly the biggest challenge in the world and it is so goddamn loud.

Emma says something anyway.

“I’m sorry.” Killian’s shoulders sag. “What? For...what do you have to be—” “—Is that a joke?” “I’m out of jokes, I think.”

“This isn’t normal.” “No, but—” “—There are no buts here? We got married!” “I was there, Swan.” “Where you? Really? Because we’re just acting like it’s nothing and—” “—What would you rather do?”

It’s another big question. Far too big. Epically big. God, he hopes he doesn’t have to talk to Ariel for a week. She’s going to be insufferable. “Do you honestly not remember how this went?” He can feel his eyebrows lower, confusion rattling down his spine. Emma looks close to distraught. “I just—this made sense. Last night and even before last night and—” She drags both her hands down her cheeks, leaving streaks in her wake and Killian is not breathing. “I asked you to kiss me, Killian! That was—it was all me and—” “—Stop that.” “What?” “We’re going in circles, I think.” “I don’t understand.” “Are you under some impression that I don’t want to kiss you? Constantly?” “What?” “Emma, love, you’ve got to say something else.”

Her whole body sags. She wins. “I don’t—” she stammers, fingers curling around the back of her neck and the chain there and something in the back of his brain startles at that, not used to seeing the metal or the light imprint it leaves on her skin. “You can’t double up on nicknames like that, it’s cheating.” “That’s just your name.” “Yeah, but you’ve got your own thing, don’t you?” “Is that you double checking?” “It might be,” she admits, and there wasn’t that much space between them, but she rocks forward anyway, the toe of her shoes brushing Killian’s. “I—I don’t really remember how we got to the chapel.” “Neither do I, honestly.” “So, no idea who asked who, then?” “Maybe some hope.” The words fall out of him. It feels that way, at least. Part admission, part want, again, Emma’s eyes going wide enough to do damage and Killian doesn’t think. It’s too loud for that, anyway.

He ducks his head, swallowing down his groan when Emma steps on his foot. It’s easy to do that when he’s kissing her instead. His hands find her waist, holding on like he’s battling some kind of romantic tide and he’s barely cognizant of Emma’s eyes fluttering shut before her fingers curl around the front of his shirt, tugging him forward. Killian tilts his head, lets himself fall into a rhythm, far easier than anything else he’s done and if he’s keeping with the water puns, it feels like cresting the surface of a particular strong wave.

That he’d be all too content to drown in.

Emma pushes up again, lets her fingers card through the hair at the back of his neck and he can’t stop moving his own hands, desperate to blaze some kind of path that he’ll think about for the rest of forever.

The word bounces around his brain, leaves bruises and brands and another word that’s inherently more positive than that and— “Heyo, what are we doing here?” Killian is going to commit murder on the first floor of the Bellagio.

Andy Garcia’s character from Ocean’s Eleven will be pissed off.

And the whole lot of them are still holding their luggage, coats draped over arms and matching looks of surprise on their faces. Or so Killian assumes. He’s still staring at Emma, watching the dismay cloud her gaze.

She swallows.

“I’m going to get some air,” Emma announces, not bothering to hand Killian back his jacket. He doesn’t ask for it.

Mary Margaret mutters something undoubtedly encouraging, Ruby’s hand over mouth and Belle swatting at Will while he continues to laugh uproariously. David looks at Killian, stuck to the spot with his heart crumbling and his stomach on a different floor and he doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to—

Something hits him.

Not literally. Metaphorically.

Memory...y.

“Did you tell her you love her?” David asks knowingly, and Killian doesn’t nod or shake his head, just kind of twists his neck because— “I’ll be right back.” He runs.

Approximately four in the morning, Christmas Eve

They got married.

Married.

To each other.

Killian’s whole body is thrumming, excitement mixing with everything he’s ever felt for Emma Swan and the questionable amount of alcohol either one of them has ingested. They haven’t taken their clothes off, which he’s sure he’ll be disappointed by eventually, but for now he’s content to lay there, staring up at the ceiling with his wife curled against his side, fingers tracing idle patterns over her arm.

He’s fairly certain she’s asleep.

It’s really why he says what he does. “I love you, Emma.” She doesn’t still, so much as she takes a deep breath, Killian hoping and wanting and—“I love you too, Killian.”

She hasn’t made it very far.

And he shouldn’t take much joy from that, but Killian’s desperate and greedy and he skids to a stop in front of a fountain that isn’t doing fountain things yet. He supposes it’s only a matter of time.

It’s another clunky metaphor.

“Hi,” Killian breathes, Emma’s lips curling up even when she tugs on the chain around her neck. He realizes what’s on it.

Her ring.

He’s glad he didn’t waste time killing Scarlett. It’d be hard to profess his love from jail.

“If I apologize again are you going to freak out?” “Undoubtedly,” Killian nods.

“That’s dumb.” “Your apology? Yes.”

Emma huffs, the ring falling over the front of her dress and the side of his jacket zipper and that kind of messes with his head a little. “This is insane.”

“Unorthodox.” “They all saw us making out in the casino.” “I’d imagine a lot of people did,” Killian reasons, dropping in front of her. “The degenerates come out in droves on national holidays, you know.”

“What happened to being out of jokes?” “It’s a defense mechanism.” “From me?”

She whispers the question, trepidation and nerves and Killian hopes he doesn’t fall over when he lifts his hand. His balance is better sober, though. “I didn’t want to—” “—Marry me?” He’s not holding his breath, so whatever sound he makes is absurd, leaving his forehead resting on Emma’s and her fingers brushing over the side of his jaw, familiar and not and normal and unexpected and absolutely goddamn perfect.

In an unorthodox sort of way.

“Say that again.” “You first.” “God, you’re stubborn, you know that,” he mutters, and Emma smiles, a kiss between his eyebrows. “I—ok, you want to be honest? Let’s be honest. That’s how Christmas works, right?” “Something about naughty and nice and rats.” “No rats, Swan.” “Nutcracker princes?” “Look who’s making jokes now,” Killian grins. He noses at her cheek, like some dam of emotional upheaval has been broken and he can’t stop touching her if he tries. He doesn’t try.

“You didn’t take it off.” “What?” “Your, uh—” Emma says, “your wedding ring. You haven’t—God, I keep looking at it. You’re sure it’s not a magnet?” “Not that I’m aware of, no.” “Weird.” “The weirdest.” “Why didn’t you take it off?”

Killian takes a deep breath, not as nervous as he probably should be because this is the moment and he’s almost surprised they don’t have a larger audience. Mary Margaret might be hiding behind a bush.

“I didn’t want to,” he says. Strictly speaking he wishes he said he more. He wishes there were some ridiculously romantic speech with adjectives and adverbs and every promise he’s ever made to himself when it comes to Emma, but that’s the important part and she’s kissing him.

He can feel her smile against his mouth.

And that’s enough.

By a long shot.

Gambling puns.

Emma pulls him up when she stands, Killian’s palm flat on her back and her fingers tracing as much of him as she can, rocking back and forth until they find a rhythm that might just be them and—

They both yelp when the fountain goes off behind them.

He nearly falls over her. She kicks him in the ankle. They laugh. Loudly. And he’d been right about Mary Margaret.

They’re all there, another round of smiles and practically giddy laughter, hands in the air and shouts of triumph that sound suspiciously like winning the jackpot.

Killian feels that way.

“I didn’t want to,” he repeats, soft enough that only Emma can hear. “I just wanted—” “—Me?” “You, Swan. From the very start. For as long as I can remember. And it’s—you want to go on a date or something?” “Honestly?” “No jokes.” She leans back, eyes wide and as hopeful as he’s ever wanted them to be. About him. And them. Collectively. “I’d like to go on several dates. That end with less clothing. I was really upset about all the clothing last night.” “We can probably work on that.” “Yeah?” “Yeah,” Killian nods. “And I—well, we don’t have to stay this—” “—No, no, that’s...I mean, it’s not the worst thing in the world.” “High praise.” “Something like that,” she agrees. “Just, you know...maybe we can date while we’re—” “—Married,” Killian finishes.

“That’s the first time you’ve said that.” “Why do you know that?” “As if you didn’t.” He kisses her again. He can’t help it. Scarlet whistles. And they do go to dinner eventually, but then Killian’s tugging Emma down a hallway, a mouth against her neck and her fingers working buttons and—

It’s even colder the next morning, a distinct lack of clothing and bedding, but there’s a body against his and a small smile on her face and he lets his eyes close again, hopeful for whatever else they may want together.

Approximately 5:15 p.m. April 17th

He asks her.

For real that time.

It’s sooner than he plans on, but they’ve been married for months and Emma smiles when she kisses him.

He figures that’s the response.

[rruffian]

pt. 5

“what did the reviews say?” — “ehh, don’t ask”

i just read them, and they’re all sanctimonious. this is par for the course, and i can easily let them slide, but i wouldn’t want to be in P&C’s shoes, whether or not they ignore the reviews or read them, as per their music hall comedy routine. how thick a hide do you have to grow to survive this uniformly testy critical response year in year out? i had to go back and watch this thing of beauty (and loyalty) just to cleanse the palate.

i thought the friday show i saw was pitch perfect, frankly, the same way i thought Anthems For Doomed Youth was perfect, considering the circumstances. maybe it takes a very specific balance of expectations and stakes, because it’s not like i’m a blind fanatic (though i am relatively new to this), but i genuinely don’t see what my sons have ever done wrong, musically. at this junction it was absolutely the right call to go “unplugged,” unsure as they were about it. i’m sorry but if a band has a back catalogue full of 24 carat gold tunes, and not many bands of the 00s indie explosion do, you have no business judging them for revisiting it and saying an acoustic setting makes no sense. i guess being a latecomer i never did see them as sweaty scuzzy punks, never witnessed the ugly tabloid circus first-hand, so i can’t conceptualize them as these badass danger boys, like this vid does, for instance. i love me some noise, i find the garage rock sound very charming actually, but surely it’s not their roughness that defined them? what struck me right away, back in ‘17 when i first came across them, was the staggering beauty of the songs. it was almost ridiculous how soft and gentle some of the melodies were, how nimble the songwriting. words chasing notes across the measures, pretty rhymes, perfect crimes, perfect lines for love to bind. listening to everything i could get my hands on while reading up on the whole epic 20-year saga, i felt like i’d stuck my arm elbow-deep into ocean sludge and grasped around and pulled out a large handful of pearls.

these songs sounded as organic as they did arranged with the string quartet and trumpet and backing choir because in many cases, no major rearrangement was even necessary (hence carl choosing them, i presume). we’ve always had the bugle! waterloo, milkman and doomed youth were all epic ballads already, featuring the piano, the cello, and expansive backing vocals, respectively. for lovers already had that orchestral sweep, literally, and albion might as well have had it. katie with the classic 60s swagger, plan A with the sinister carnie brass band vibe, the good old days with the groovy jazzy verses, none of these reimaginings were exactly a stretch. even the surprising choices worked for me—the lush soul songstresses completely changed radio america around, and i won’t hear a word against cha cha waster, that tune would have been brilliant even as bossa nova.

i don’t get the accusations of sloppy performance either, sounded fairly tight to me? they can’t have had more than a couple of proper run-throughs, if not just the one on wednesday, which is nuts. i can’t imagine the nerves on the first night, bless their jittery souls.

finally, standing in stark contrast to that charisma vacuum of an opening act, bathed in on-the-nose heavenly backlight, these two are simply the shiniest frontmen i’ve seen in my many years of being dazzled by rock frontmanship. you know how when you listen to comedy bands for a while, all other music seems too self-serious for some time afterwards, or when you see a particularly energetic band live, everyone else seems lazy in comparison? well the deal with peetur and carlos is, they make the rest seem lackluster. milquetoast. the bar has been raised and from now on i will only accept no less than: laugh out loud funny, ridic antics, long complimentary reading list, mad vortex of interpersonal dramz with a happy ending, beautè, magnetismé, verve, fashun, naked emoshun, erotic mic shares, demonstrably life changing, manic pixie dreamness undermined hilariously by excruciating dad dweebness and weird uncle-ness later in life, and finally—good to fans. which is to say: i’m done being dazzled, no one will ever compare.

[preserving-ferretbrain]

Golden Girls and Lost Boys

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

Spoiler warning for Tangled.

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

Synopsis

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

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

Family Matters

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Bit of a Lad

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[shipburner]

For the past week (or perceived week, she had only her watch to go by), Iris Henson had been using the ［ＬＯＮＥ  ＳＴＡＲ］ as a base of operations. The room was easily refindable, the food was edible, the beds were safe, and the staff wasn't inimical to human life.

Iris just wished that it wasn't so aggressively Texan.

Her partner, Stheno, lacked the cultural context, and treated it as just another one of the Memory Palace's cavalcade of oddities. And to be fair, it was plenty odd, since none of the animal or plant life implied by the ［ＬＯＮＥ  ＳＴＡＲ］ was native to Texas, or, in most cases, Earth. But the name – the intent of the food – the overall aesthetics – made Iris cringe harder than anything she'd seen yet.

To be fair, it wasn't all bad – the most requested jukebox tune was a passionate ballad of a truck's love for his man by a singer with a voice like a glass guitar, followed by a lot of mooing that allegedly translated to a song about rustlers having stolen all the singer's trucks. The staff appeared to understand human gender better than most humans did, and the Daisy-Dukes-and-close-tied-flannel uniform showed off a full spectrum of cheesecake, beefcake, cheeseburger, yeast block, singing mouth, and chassis. In fact, Iris couldn't remember ever having heard a mean word said in the place.

The biggest problem, flagrant Texaninity aside, was the floor show.

Stheno held a clear plastic umbrella in two arms, sporadically wiped it clean in a third, and held Iris' chocolate mousse behind them in a fourth, shielding Iris and her sketchpad from the spurts of blood and gore as the showpeople tore each other to bits. Iris was busy recording the anatomy of the most human-approximant staff members – glass skeletons intricately whorled to support their hydraulic muscles, nine cervical vertebrate clearly revealed whenever one got their skull pulled out, four stomachs in a familiarly ruminant arrangement … "Ooh!" remarked Stheno as something bounced off the umbrella; Iris shot out another arm and grabbed it before it fell to the sawdust floor. She turned it around and examined it. "Their hearts are wasps' nests? Huh. Not what I was expecting." "Just wood pulp," Stheno corrected, pulling it down to Iris' chest so she could see. "I'll be damned if wasps were involved in this." "Hm. Ooh, Nutella!" A hazelnut eye had ricocheted off a neighboring table and landed in the glass, shattering into fragments as it hit the adamantine pole of the tiny fancy umbrella. Iris handed her sketchpad to Stheno and stirred the fragments into her dessert, spooning it into her mouth. "I don't know how you have the stomach to eat this." "Like you know what it's like to have a stomach, Stheno." "Get fucked."

"YEEEEEEEE-ALLLLLLLL-RIIIIIIIIGHT, PARDNERS!" blared the sound system. "THAT'S A DE-CI-SIVE – AN' IN-CI-SIVE – WIN FOR MX. OPHELTEK! LET'S GIVE EM ALL A BIIIIIIIIG HAND! OOPS, LOOKS LIKE E'S ALREADY GOT ONE, AHAHAHAHA!" Mx. Opheltek held up the severed hoof-hand of eir last opponent over eir head. "WE'LL BE BACK AFTER THE BREAK! GET UP, GET ANOTHER DRINK, GO POWDER YOUR –" the last word sounded like "NOSE!", "MUZZLE!", and "GRILLE!" layered on top of each other. Stheno folded the umbrella gingerly as Iris got up to head over to the bar. "Jes' water fer the li'l misses, 'sright?" squawked the bartender. They were perhaps the least aesthetically consistent person in the place, being a swarm of parakeets inhabiting an articulated wire cage that Iris thought looked a little like Jimmy Buffett. "Mhm." Iris nodded, rubbing under her glasses. It had been a long day, especially when they'd had to brachiate through the ribcage of a Spearmint Hound carrying an unconscious lumberjack. Stheno squeezed her hand supportively and accepted the drink. "Heeeeeeeey y'all!" There was a heavy thump as someone slid onto the bar next to Iris, along with the squishy sound of body parts pushing themselves back together. "Whoof, I got splattered out there! Top me up, thank y'kindly …" A quiet snick noise accompanied the retraction of six glass claws as their owner held out a glass skull to be topped up with bloodwine. Iris turned to see a showgirl sitting on the bar, tall, tan, young, handsome -- Iris quelled the rising strains of "Girl from Ipanema" along with some unhelpful gay thoughts. The woman's hazelnut eyes took in the mutualistic partnership, flicking between meeting Iris' gaze and Stheno's. "Hey, how y'all doin'?" she said. "Saw the host here doin' some sketchin'; we puttin' on a good enough show y'wanna capture it?" She downed the bloodwine and wiped her lips, which Iris could now see were just lipstick painted around her mouth. Iris swallowed, voice suddenly ragged. "More … scientific interest. We're not … not from around here." "Ooh, you a bio nerd? I'm psych, myself. Workin' this job t' put myself through college." She took another long gulp and held out her hand. Iris shook it cautiously; Stheno circled a arm around them. "Annie-Mae, pardner; what're y'all's monikers?" Annie-Mae probably didn't notice the bit of Iris that died inside when Iris put together what her name sounded like. "Iris Henson." "Stheno." Iris reflected belatedly on the lack of differentiation between their voices -- clear enough to her and Stheno, but since they both had to use Iris' vocal chords, she wondered if Annie-Mae could tell who was which. "Nice t'meetcha! Am I gettin' y'all's grammar right?" Iris looked down at Stheno, who shrugged a pair of arms; Iris said, "… No, we think you've gotten the right take on our partnership." "Sweet! So what brings y'all around here?" "Stumbled through the wrong hole in space, both of us," said Stheno. "Now we're both stuck on this crazy-train of a castle." "Whoof! Sorry t' hear that, but y'seem like y'all're enjoyin' the show here." "I am," said Iris. "More … energetic than I'm used to, but I am interested." "Personally, I'm disgusted," said Stheno. "Well, ne gustibus te disputandum'n'all that!" Annie-Mae kicked a leg high in the air, which probably meant something like nonchalance in whatever body language her species had, but which caused Iris to suddenly become very interested in her water. "Y'all hangin' around here for the night?" "Think so, why?" said Iris. "Wonderin' if we can continue this conversation or if I'm keepin' y'all! Y'all're becomin' a regular; figure it's worth meetin' y'all, proper-like." She slithered down off the bar onto a stool besides Iris, resting her angular chin in her broad hands. "You two an item?" she asked, suddenly, voice sugary. Stheno's arms coiled, half under her own power and half under Iris', who stammered, "We're … uh …" "As romantically entangled as two people this physically entangled have to be, I guess," filled in Stheno. "We're a … package deal, at any rate." "Is this a deal y'all're offering?" Annie-Mae licked one of her eyes, grin glassy. Iris' throat stalled for several seconds.

Annie-Mae recoiled quickly, face falling. "Sorry, I can never judge how fast is too fast with visitants. I made y'all uncomfortable an' that ain't the ［ＬＯＮＥ  ＳＴＡＲ］ way." Iris shrugged. "I think we're both filing it under cultural relativity, and I gotta say -- the 'Lone Star way' where I come from is a lot less courteous than it is here." "I ain't rightly sure if I should feel good about that." Stheno rolled her eyes. "Trust me, you'll need a lot more of that bloodwine if we're discussing Iris' homeworld. Or mine, really, but we already went through the section of the castle that's got my cultural baggage attached. All the evil in this place is dramatic. Overt." Annie-Mae hung her head. "I ain't no damn good with y'all plausibly evolved folks." Iris patted her shoulder. "Better than we are, ma'am." Annie-Mae laughed. Well, let loose a horrifying screech, but Iris had heard enough of her species laugh before. She took another swig of her bloodwine. "So! How's bio life?" "Art life, actually," said Iris. "Anatomy studies, y'know? I mean. I hope it's art life. I don't know how 'getting sucked into a memed-up Borges novel gone metastatic' is gonna affect my major." "I'm just a tech," said Stheno. "Biological, but I went into trade." "Oh, ain't that jus' a zmood. Time's a fluid; y' should get back fine, if I remember anythin' from physics when I was a scrap." "Thanks, that's … comforting." "May I offer a restrained yet supportive 'yeehaw'?" "You may not," said Stheno, the joke clear enough in her tone, and bumped Annie-Mae's proferred fist. "Yee haw!" Annie-Mae said, the bisection of the word groaningly obvious to Iris' ears. "Thanks," said Iris, "I hate it." Annie-Mae sprayed bloodwine out of her mouth, Stheno opening the umbrella just in time to deflect it humorously. Iris couldn't help laughing too as Annie-Mae contorted, dislocating several joints with the force of her screeches. "Your – your deliv'ry – ho-leee fuck, Iris – hoooooooo dawg-geez, I needed that." Two minds trying to speak in unison through one set of vocal chords tended to produce a fairly good Voice of the Legion. "What can we say, except, you're welcome …" The reference didn't appear to land with Annie-Mae, but that was par for the course; frankly, Iris (and Stheno, in the case of her references) was more surprised when one did. Annie-Mae wiped her face and leaned back. "So, how's the art and/or trade life, funnybones?"

They ended up chatting far longer than any of them had in truth expected. Iris and Stheno described their own consistently-weird homeworlds and attempts to break into the art world/museum scene, respectively, and as the subjective night wore on, pipe dreams, like unseating Mike Mearls and claiming his skull-throne, or winning the Abomination Foundry Ceremonial Brisket for excellence in species design. Annie-Mae described her inconsistently-weird homeworld – the ［ＬＯＮＥ  ＳＴＡＲ］ and related rooms, and her efforts slowly working towards a psychology degree, and, later, her own pipe-dreams, about wandering through the mind of a long-dead god she'd found a few floors greenward and healing its hurts, or maybe just getting to rip her back off on Hellevision. The parakeethead behind the bar eventually had to shoo them upstairs, citing concerns about them turning the mops all "Sorcerer's Apprentice snuff film".

They told more stories, upstairs, of the time Iris and Stheno had faced the Xenomorph version of Billy Bob Brockali in rock-combat, of the time Annie-Mae had gotten a glimpse into what turned out to be an erotic baking show from Stheno's homeworld, and of loves lost and dreams deferred and huge old things seen when the viewers should have been asleep.

It would be nice to draw a curtain over the room, and praise darkness and creation unfinished. For indeed, Iris and Stheno had foes to face, friends to find, and, eventually, a way home, although for now we should perhaps send our well-wishes to Iris and Stheno not for homefinding but for overcoming the dour tentpole ghouls of Barthes' Necropolis, and for the assistance of the Warden Sueish, the only author who enacted his own narrative death. But before we send Iris and Stheno to go out deconstructing and to deconstruct, well-fed, well-rested, well-comforted, we have one stumbling block to place in their way.

Annie-Mae's hat hung on the bedpost atop Iris' pea coat; cowboy boots and sneakers lay jumbled together on the rug that might be called cowhide by someone who had never actually seen a cow. The room was dark, the air warm with breath and things that worked like breath. Stheno began to speak –

A squat, humanoid skeleton-creature poked eir cumberously-hatted head out of some fourth-dimensional space, hissing, "Niiiiiiiice…….." The words "CORPSE-GRADE QUICKLIME" flashed into Iris' eyes from eir shirt. Stheno lifted her bodily off the bed with all ten arms and sent Iris' feet plowing right into eir face. E made a noise like an EDM opossum and vanished with a puff of sand. "What'n tarnation was that?" Annie-Mae said, dazedly. Iris groaned. "That's … not far off. Eir name's Darnation, with a D. E's a skook. Skooks are the … Dante's Vergils of the Palace ecosystem, at least in our experience. E is a horrible little neman and we're probably being taught a really heavy-handed lesson by eir presence." "Yeesh. I can recommend a de-curser, if y'all think that'd help." Iris and Stheno turned all four eyes to her. "We don't." "Well, I can help y'all forget em." "We'd like that."

[This is my overwrought birthday present for @titleknown, inspired by the anon message posted above. What character, after all, is more a character than the fantastical Memory Palace?]

[Also, in the spirit of the thing, Annie-Mae, Iris Henson, Stheno, and Darnation are all free to use under a CC-BY 4.0 Vanilla License as you see fit as long as I, Nausicaä Harris, am credited as their creators when you do so. The Memory Palace, and the species I call skooks, are under the same license, as long as Thomas F. Johnson is credited as their creator. ETA: The anon on whose ask I built her character graciously gifted me with credit, and open-sourceness, for Annie-Mae.]

[And, while I don’t have designs for Iris or Stheno worked out yet, I do have a design for Darnation. Eir cheap trick is pocket sand; eir hat is meant to represent that e was born on a mountain, raised in a cave, and craves nothing but truckin’ and fuckin’.]

[darknessfactor]

This is mostly being written because I need to get my own thoughts down about this now, not because I particularly want to get into the Discourse (because I know it exists, and I don’t want to go near it).  Basically, I’m rewatching FMA 2003 and FMAB, and I’m going to talk through my preferences.

I’ll admit that this is my first time watching 03 all the way through.  I got through a little more than half of it in high school, then got bored (ironically right before things started getting good), and tried watching Brotherhood instead.  I did manage to make it all the way through that one.

Having watched both now, I still prefer Brotherhood.  And yes, this is a comparison post.  Untagged, except for my own reference tags.  Like I said: I’m writing this for me.

This list might get long, so if you’ve decided to go ahead and read it anyway, then prepare yourself.  I’ll start with character comparisons, in no particular order.

Roy Mustang: Brotherhood wins by a landslide.  Although 03 does a slightly better job at portraying Roy’s PTSD from the Ishval conflict, I also saw much less of a desire to atone for what he had done.  In Brotherhood, Roy specifically said that he wanted to help rebuild Ishval, and Riza admitted that he planned to allow himself and other state alchemists to be put on trial for their crimes.  In 03, I think that the desire to atone is there, but it is muted, and he seems far more smarmy and power-hungry.  His manipulation of the Elrics is also much more blatant.

Scar: Which leads me to Scar.  Honestly?  This one’s a tie for me.  I liked his ending in Brotherhood more.  I felt he was more threatening in Brotherhood.  I prefer his voice actor in Brotherhood.  However, Brotherhood did one thing that I really, really wish they hadn’t - and that was shift the blame for Winry’s parents from Roy to Scar.  Suddenly it wasn’t alright to root for Scar, because not only had he killed the state alchemists responsible for his people, but he also killed innocent civilians.  Personally, I feel for Scar - he had every reason to believe that his people would never get justice for what had been done to them, so he took matters into his own hands.  Brotherhood was just trying to pull a ‘killing is ALWAYS bad’ thing.

The kids: No, I don’t mean the Elric brothers.  I’m talking about 03′s Wrath and Brotherhood’s Pride.  This time, Brotherhood wins again.  I felt like 03 had the opportunity to go somewhere more meaningful and emotional with Wrath, but instead they just turned him into a psycho (which... considering what he’d been through, it didn’t really surprise me).  Brotherhood’s Pride, however, was almost always a creepy asshole - apart from when Selim acted endearing.  His reveal freaks me out to this day, and to this day he honestly terrifies me.  I do find it somewhat ironic that both Wrath and Pride tried to take Ed’s body for themselves, in the end.

Main villain: Gotta give 03 credit: Dante wins by another landslide.  While both she and Father are fairly one-dimensional, her reveal - as well as her plan - is a lot more insidious, not to mention creepy as hell.  I cringed (in a good way) almost every time she was on screen, and her theme song is AMAZING.  The only time when I really got a ‘what the fuck’ vibe from Father was when he’d half-absorbed Hohenheim just before the country-wide transmutation circle was activated.  For the most part, he was pretty par for the course as far as villains go.  

Bradley: Brotherhood, again.  Much more threatening, much more terrifying.  What happened to Lan Fan, to this day, remains an “oh SHIT” moment for me.  Though personally, I think his death should’ve been more brutal.

Sloth: 03, again.  Really, the only good or interesting thing about Brotherhood’s Sloth was the Armstrong sibling/Curtis teamup to take him down.  03′s Sloth is a hell of a lot more interesting.

Greed: I was kind of surprised by how much I liked 03′s Greed by the time he died.  His arc felt more complete than the arc of the first Greed in Brotherhood.  Still, I’m a sucker for body-sharing tropes, and I love the part that the second Greed played.  So Brotherhood wins this one, though not quite by a landslide.

Characters unique to each series: Brotherhood.  I can’t really think of FMA without thinking of Ling, Lan Fan, Mei, Olivier, or Miles.  Dante is a fantastic villain, and 03′s Sloth and Wrath are interesting characters as well, but Frank Archer almost seems like a Kimblee wanna-be, and I couldn’t give two shits about him.  Ling’s arc might be one of my favorites in Brotherhood, and I can’t not adore Lan Fan and Olivier.  

Riza: Brotherhood, though not by much.  There aren’t too many differences between 03 and Brotherhood Riza, except that Brotherhood went far more in-depth on her character and backstory.  Hell, they devoted an entire episode to it, and though I wasn’t too big of a fan of her learning a lesson from freaking Kimblee, I still appreciate her expanded content.

Worldbuilding: Brotherhood, again.  Brotherhood always felt more... like an actual world, whereas everything in 03 felt sort of... isolated.  In 03 we know nothing about the surrounding areas, and... I don’t know, I just never feel like there are people, anywhere.  I like that Liore got more focus in 03, but overall I prefer Brotherhood - for going more into history, for establishing more of the setting.  (I know it would’ve been tougher for 03′s writers to do such, and I give them credit for writing such a compelling story with what they had.)

Music: Brotherhood.  Oh my god, Brotherhood wins so hard for this.  Dante’s theme is the only one that stuck out to me in 03, but Brotherhood?  I have the names of so many of those tracks memorized.  The Intrepid.  Knives and Shadows.  Trisha’s Lullaby.  I get chills whenever I hear any one of these songs.  

Found family theme: This is something that’s prevalent in both series.  Hell, in 03 Armstrong even says it outright after Ed and Al visit Resembool.  It’s never quite stated outright in Brotherhood, and yet I felt like it carried through more strongly in Brotherhood.

In 03, Ed and Al meet and help plenty of people along their journey, but those people don’t really seem to have an impact on them (except maybe Nina Tucker).  I got the sense that, in spite of that, they were still fairly isolated from everyone else; the Elrics against the world.  They have each other in our world after CoS, but it’s just the two of them.  Against the world.  Again.

In Brotherhood, all those people they meet, and help?  It’s very clear that those bonds are still there.  Just look at the family photo in the credits: look at how many people are in it, even if you count out significant others and the Elrics themselves and their kids.  Paninya and Garfield being there just goes to show that there are so many people that the Elrics could easily consider family, in spite of the lack of blood relations.  Ling, Lan Fan, Mustang, Hawkeye, the Rockbells, all the chimeras that Kimblee brought up to Briggs, Izumi, Sig... in the end, in Brotherhood, it was clear that the Elrics had accepted that they couldn’t get as far as they did without these people’s love and support, and I just love that so much.

Story: Brotherhood’s story just seemed more exciting to me.  That’s all there is to it.  I’m a bit of a sucker for political conspiracies, and this screamed ‘political conspiracy’ a lot more than 03.  Also, though I can appreciate the nuance behind 03′s ending, I’ve always been a sucker for happy endings, and Brotherhood’s was definitely happier.

...well, I think these are about all the thoughts I have on this matter.  If I didn’t mention characters, it’s because I think it was a tie for those characters.  I will say for 03: I’m amazed at how its quality improved over time.  The animation and voice acting get remarkably better over time.  Still, Brotherhood is the one that’ll always be closer to my heart.

[ramajmedia]

13 Reasons Why's Biggest Controversies (So Far) | Screen Rant

13 Reasons Why prides itself on tackling difficult issues head on, but its approach has resulted in many controversies. Based on Jay Asher's novel of the same name, 13 Reasons Why arrived on Netflix in 2017. Its first season told the story of Hannah Baker's suicide, through a series of flashbacks which detailed the "13 reasons why" she had taken her own life.

Those reasons included a culture of bullying and drugs at her school, which resulted in many students making poor decisions and then trying to deal with the regrettable consequences. They also included rape, and the revelation that Hannah and her friend, Jessica, had both been raped by the football captain, Bryce Walker. Not only were many of the scenes triggering for viewers, but Hannah's suicide was shown in graphic detail, prompting an outcry across social media.

Related: What To Expect From 13 Reasons Why Season 4

13 Reasons Why came back for a second season, and this time the controversial topics handled included sexual assault and school shootings. Still undeterred by yet more uproar, 13 Reasons Why season 3 has also seen a new character getting involved with a known rapist, and someone being framed for murder. With such a divisive show it can be difficult to keep track of what the backlash is about, so here are 13 Reasons Why's biggest controversies (so far).

Hannah's Suicide

Undoubtedly the biggest controversy 13 Reasons Why has faced was its decision to show Hannah Baker's suicide in graphic detail. The storyline had already caused outcry, with many parenting groups claiming that it would influence impressionable teenagers, and that it glamorized suicide. Showrunner Brian Yorkey and the cast all defended the show, stating that they were trying to promote conversation between adults and teens, and teaching about the power of seeking help.

However, after advice from medical experts, Netflix made the decision to remove the controversial scene in which Hannah takes her own life, two years after it first aired. The two sides of the argument both have valid points; for anyone contemplating suicide, the scene could prove to be a fatal trigger. On the other hand, the visible pain that Hannah went through could easily serve as a strong deterrent to anyone who thought suicide was an easy way out. Arguably, though, the scene that served as the biggest deterrent of all was Hannah's mother discovering her daughter's body.

Related: 13 Reasons Why Star Thinks Season 1's Suicide Scene Earned Undue Hatred

The Rape Of Hannah, Jessica, and Chloe

Another major criticism of 13 Reasons Why season 1 was its depiction of sexual violence, most specifically the rape of Jessica and Hannah by Bryce. Again, the showrunners defended the choice by saying it was highlighting an important topic that wasn't spoken about enough. While it's easy to agree that we should be discussing the matters of consent, peer pressure and rape with our teens, 13 Reasons Why focused much more on the behavior of Bryce, the perpetrator, rather than the impact his actions had on his victims. Not only did 13 Reasons Why do this in season 1, it also did the same in season 2, when Bryce went on to rape Chloe, his girlfriend at the time.

Drug Culture

Drugs are part of high school life, and that's an unavoidable fact. However, they're certainly not something that every teenager does, and certainly not in the quantities or with the reckless abandon as depicted in 13 Reasons Why. Bryce Walker is rich, and obviously has disposable income, but we're also supposed to believe that Justin, who has been abandoned by his family and is not wealthy, has the means to be a drug addict. 13 Reasons Why seems to think every teenage gathering automatically involves heavy drug use, especially from the football team, who are supposed to be the best athletes in the school. It's another instance of the show focusing on the negative aspect of school life, rather than the promise of a bright future for these kids.

Bullying and Jock Culture

Bullying, and the toxic male dominated sports culture at Liberty High, is a major factor across 13 Reasons Why. Hannah was relentlessly bullied, and it seems as though getting slammed into lockers by a footballer is just par for the course for most. Again, one could argue that 13 Reasons Why is highlighting a major issue with our schools, and that could be admirable. But it's 13 Reason's Why's failure to address it that's the issue. It's not until season 3 that we actually see a fairly supportive principal allowing Jessica to give a school assembly based on the #MeToo movement. There's no discipline strategy in place to deal with the bullying, we are not shown the consequences of the jock behavior, and so the show fails to highlight the issue in a useful way at all. If anything, it merely promotes the fact that if you're a straight white male sports player in school, you can get away with pretty much anything.

Tyler's Assault

Another victim of the continual bullying, is Tyler Down. An outcast from the very start, 13 Reasons Why has followed Tyler's journey from a quiet photography student to arriving fully armed to the Spring dance. The school has turned a blind eye to all of Tyler's troubles; surprising given how overtly he was bullied. Monty, a member of the football team, was a continual thorn in Tyler's side, making his life worse and worse until it all culminated in a horrific physical and sexual assault. The extremely graphic depiction of Tyler being sodomized with a broom handle and badly beaten was a very difficult watch. Unsurprisingly, it sparked outrage, and the warning that preceded the show didn't feel like enough.

Related: Every Song In 13 Reasons Why Season 3

Tyler's Attempted Shooting

The debate over gun control in America has been raging for some time now, and sadly, school shootings are frequent occurrences. Arguably, then, 13 Reason's Why's decision to have Tyler attempt a mass shooting was merely raising discussion and awareness of an issue that affects most American school kids - but again, it was the way the show dealt with it that cause the issue. Tyler arrived at his decision based on the assault he had suffered and the culmination of long-standing bullying. However, there was no detailed look at the state of Tyler's mental health when he made his choice, just like there wasn't with Hannah when she took her own life.

The way the attempted shooting scene played out, in the finale of season 2, was badly handled. Clay Jensen stepped in front of Tyler's gun and talked him out of going through with it, before Tony and Clay together removed Tyler from the scene of the crime and then disposed of his guns. As if that wasn't enough, in season 3 it becomes clear that rather than letting anyone find out about Tyler's attempt, Clay and his friends take turns in looking after Tyler so that he is never alone. The implication that a group of 17 year old kids can handle the ramifications of an attempted mass shooting, as well as provide adequate after care for a mentally unwell peer, is a dangerous one.

Related: Study Connects Netflix's 13 Reasons Why With Increase in Youth Suicides

Bryce's Probation

When Hannah's tapes, detailing her 13 reasons, were released, everyone got to hear Bryce's confession. Clay had secretly recorded him admitting that he raped Hannah and Jessica, and season 2 found him on trial. Of course, while he was on the stand, it was actually Jessica who had to endure the real trial, being labeled a slut and being told she was asking for it. Bryce was depicted as a star athlete, from a good home, and a student whose college chances would be ruined if convicted of rape. The result was that he received a paltry 3 month probation term for his crimes, while Jessica (and subsequently Chloe) had to live with what he did to them. It was too late for Hannah. Although his sentence caused controversy and anger among fans, sadly it's all too often reflected in court rooms for real.

Related: 13 Reasons Why: Who Killed Bryce Walker & Their Motive Explained

Ani's Relationship With Bryce

The introduction of Ani in season 3 was met with such fierce backlash from fans that Grace Saif, who plays Ani, was forced to quit social media. While hounding an actress who plays a fictional character is completely wrong, it's easy to see why the character of Ani was detested so much. First of all, she stuck herself right in the middle of the problems that Clay and his friends were dealing with, despite not knowing their shared history. Her lack of sensitivity was astounding, like asking Chloe if Bryce had been aware she was pregnant, right after they'd met. She also worked her way into Jessica's life, counselling her on her rape and recovery, all the while courting a relationship with the very man who had already raped 3 girls.

The whole purpose of the character seemed to be humanizing the despicable actions of Bryce Walker, and since Bryce never seemed to have any redeeming features, it was too little, too late, Plus, Ani seemed more concerned with making sure someone went down for Bryce's murder than his actual demise. When Clay looked to be in the frame, Ani set about trying to pin the blame on someone else - the wrong person.

Monty's Season 3 Story Arc

Monty was an inherently unlikable character from the start. He spent most of 13 Reasons Why season 1 playing suck-up to Bryce and learning his habits and behaviors, which made him become an entitled bully. It was season 2 where Monty became more of a character in his own right, and like his mentor, there was not a redeeming feature in sight. He bullied Tyler endlessly, assaulted and violated him, and, as it seemed for much of season 3, got away with it. As it turned out, Monty had a secret: he was gay, and struggling to come to terms with his own sexuality. When Tyler managed to seek help for his assault, Monty was arrested and imprisoned, and was subsequently killed in his cell. At the same time, Ani successfully (for now) pinned Bryce's murder on him, even though he had an alibi; he was sleeping with a student from another school at the time. Monty is now dead, and we won't get to see the character learning to come to terms with his sexuality, or dealing with the consequences of his actions. Like so many stoylines in 13 Reasons Why, this controversial episode is once more skipped over with no real lessons learned.

Next: 13 Reasons Why Season 3's Monty Twist Explained

source https://screenrant.com/13-reasons-why-controversy-explained/

[lurkch]

11 questions

Rules 

Always post these rules 

Answer the questions given by the person who tagged you 

Write 11 questions of your own 

Tag 11 people 

Tagged by @auduna-druitt

Audie’s 11 questions

1. Favorite song and what you think of when you hear it.

Out of the 6000+ songs on my hard drive? Tough one. I’m kind of a lyrics person so either:

C’est Moi by Marie Mai (the video is odd, but that’s par for the course for Quebecois music):

IF you’re looking for an English song, Sweet As Whole by Sarah Bareilles tops my list (say the song title really fast and the lyrics won’t take you by surprise :P):

2. Favorite cult classic

Movie? I don’t think I have one (not really sure what qualifies as a cult classic).

3. How old were you when you saw your first R rated movie?

Um, probably seven? We had one of the first VCRs (back when a single movie was $80-$200) and my parents kept inviting people over to watch Alien and kicking me out of the room. I kept begging to watch and they said okay as long as I didn’t come to them with nightmares. I didn’t sleep much for a while. :P

4. Facebook or Twitter?

I used to use Twitter fairly heavy years ago but have stopped. I go on Facebook maybe once every 6 weeks or so to see if my cousins and friends from high school are still alive. :P

5. Classic Cartoons or Modern?

Classic I guess. I like the Wile E. Coyote and Bugs Bunny cartoons before they were censored for violence.

6. Have you ever travelled outside of the country? Where did you go?

I used to live outside the country. I’ve been to about 15 or so. Most in Western Europe (before the Cold War was “over”), also Morocco, Australia, New Zealand and the US.

7. Dream vacation?

I like sightseeing, but I hate travelling (I want my own bed and space at the end of the day). Probably New Zealand as I didn’t get to spend much time there. I’d like to go to Japan but I don’t like to go where I don’t have a rudimentary understanding of the language and I’m just not motivated enough to learn Japanese at this point.

8. Favorite book as a child and why?

Winnie-the-Pooh. No idea why, it just speaks to me.

9. Favorite gif.

I don’t really have a favourite.

10. Are you a good witch or a bad witch?

Assuming this has something to do with Wizard of Oz which I am not a big fan of so I can’t really answer this.

11. Do you like musicals?

No. Except for the version of Mamma Mia with Pierce Brosnan (who doesn’t sing well, but doesn’t embarrass himself either ... I’m mostly there for him in an Elvis outfit). That and it annoys the crap out of the Other Half when I put it on because he hates musicals.

I am not writing 11 questions or tagging 11 people.

[man-in-the-ant-hill]

Miss Pym (4 February 2017) Hank & Others

It was the end of the day.  Junior was asleep, and Jan had gone out somewhere--he had to think twice about that as he heard footsteps upstairs.  The footsteps went the wrong way, though, away from the master suite.  Towards the nursary, Hank realized; it was Lacey, either tucking Henry in or going to bed herself.  Somehow, living with housekeepers and nannies hadn’t factored into his decision to marry Jan.  Perhaps, somehow, he should have known she came with a staff attached.  Perhaps.  But he hadn’t.  

Hank took another sip of his beer, glanced down the hall towards his office door, and turned on the t.v..  He flipped, flipped, flipped through the channels and sipped, sipped, sipped his beer.  

“What are you watching?” asked a voice.  Hank started.  Lacey.  He hadn’t thought she’d come down.  She made a habit of keeping to herself and the baby.  Though, he supposed she had the run of the house, she never used it, preferring to stay in her suite and Junior’s.  Hank looked at the screen, and at the remote in his hand.  “National Treasure, apparently.”  

“Good movie.”  Then she hesitated. She leaned down over the back of a chair, then thrumped her fingers against the pillows.  “Mind if I join you?”  She seemed almost apologetic for asking.

Hank hadn’t been expecting company.  He’d rather pictured the night spent watching snippets of one show or another, then bailing when a commercial hit, and catching a just-as-meaningless snippet of another show, all the while drinking one beer after the other and wondering if he should do something more wholesome, or more fruitful.  Company, he decided, was better.  “Go ahead.  Do you want something to drink?”  

Lacey found herself a seat, across the table from Hank’s own.  She’d chosen one of the less comfortable chairs.  He wondered if she felt uncomfortable lounging with him.  “No.  Thank you, Dr. Pym.”  

Hank felt a twinge of oddity at that.  If she was sitting with him, fairly social, then should she call him by his honorific?  But, most of the time she was working for him, and not to confuse things, the honorific stayed.  “Let me know if you change your mind.”  

“This has to be the one decent movie Nick Cage’s ever done.”

“Probably.”  

Lacey looked over at him.  “Did you think he did a good Ghost Rider?”  

Hank shrugged.  “Don’t know.  I haven’t seen the movie and I’ve never met the man...demon?” 

“Fair enough.”  Lacey seemed a touch disappointed nonetheless.  

The two hour movie had been dragged along to nearly three and a half.  Hank was finishing his third...no, fourth--the bottle was hiding behind another--beer.  He was starting to think about going up to bed, or doing a quick once-over in the lab, when his phone buzzed.  Nothing showed on the screen--probably an email.  Probably a student who couldn’t figure out a lab write-up he’d made.  He flicked his phone open to see if it was something he should deal with now, or if it could wait for morning.  

MARIA PYM 

Hank felt as though his entire cardiovascular system had shut down at once.  His heart felt like it had squeezed itself shut, his fingers felt so numb he gripped the phone needlessly tight, and and though he tried to grasp for breath, there seemed none to be had.  All of that came secondary, of course, to a sensation akin to hope, but which reared like a frightened horse.  

“Dr. Pym, are you alright?”  

“Yes.. No..  It’s Maria.”  He began to read on.  I hate to write you now, after so long.  I should have written you as soon as I was released.  I wish I could have found a way to get word to you before, even.  However, I was unable, then too afraid, then too ashamed. 

“Who’s Maria?”  

“Dr. Maria Pym.”  I’ve watched your career.  I’m impressed and proud of all you’ve done. I’ve seen, too, that you’ve found someone new to spend your life with.  I’m sure she’s wonderful.  

“Your mother?”  

I’m sure you want to know, why I’m writing.  Why now, after so long.  And you’ll want to know why I kept this from you.  You have a daughter, Hank.  She spent the first and formative years of her life on a Hungarian military base while I stayed first as a political prisoner and then as scientific researcher.  It was the only way I could lessen my time and hers.  I think she’s been happy.  God knows I’ve done everything I could for her.  Now she wants to meet you.  She’s sixteen.  Nadia is so smart, Hank, and she’s so inquisitive about the world.  You’d like her if you met her.  Will you?  I can take her to New York, or you can come to Budapest.  It’s a different city now, but if you’d rather her come to New York, I don’t mind. 

Kind regards, 

Maria Pym, PhD

“My wife.”  

“Excuse me?”  That had caught Lacey off guard.  She sounded like she wanted answers, but Hank didn’t feel like he could give them. 

“I was married before Jan.  A long time before.  Technically, we never...”  This was all too much.  

“Does Mrs. Pym...does Janet?” 

“No.  I didn’t know...”  Why was he telling all this to the babysitter, before his wife?  He shook his head, finished his drink, then stood, and started clearing bottles.  “It’s been a long enough evening for me.  If you want to finish the movie, just turn it off.”  

He felt if he’d said just one more thing, Jan might have heard from the nanny--that would have been no good at all.  In the kitchen, he rinsed the bottles one at a time, then tossed them into the recycling drawer.  Nadia.  He had a daughter, Nadia.  He’d never met her, hadn’t known about her.  How was this possible?  Things were rough enough as they were. 

Not long after he went up and lay in the dark, perhaps a half hour had passed, Jan stumbled in.  She seemed to think she was being quiet, even though her spike heels kept nailing the floor and she seemed to be muttering something to herself.  Song lyrics?  A to-do list?  Whatever it was, she seemed to be in a good mood.  “Psst,” Hank whispered.  

Jan gasped and stumbled back.  Was she drunk?  “Hey~” 

“Jan, we need to talk.”  

“I’ll say.”  She stumbled again and Hank pulled back the covers moving to help her when she let herself fall onto the bed with a pillowed “floof” noise.  Jan giggled, and started pulling at and off her dress.  “God, what a bunch of egg heads MIT produces.”  

Hank looked at her in confusion.  “Why were you at MIT?”  

“I just flew back.” 

“Why were you at MIT?”  

“I was at a charity thing.”  

“At MIT?” 

“Yeah.”  She pulled off her heels, and crawled up to the head of the bed.  Then, Jan did something Hank hadn’t expected, and put her head in his lap.  He stroked her hair.  “Missed you.”  

Hank smiled.  In spite of everything they’d been through--every spat, every silent dinner, every night she preferred a friend’s company to his--she’d missed him.  Hank leaned down and kissed her temple, her cheek, then tipped her head back so he could kiss her lips.  She didn’t shrink away.  How many times she had balked from his touch, he’d lost count.  Jan kissed back.  Her ridiculous nails raked through his hair, tugged at it.  She rearranged herself, and Hank moved on top of her. 

Hank felt he must have missed something--was Jan wearing anything at all?  She’d been dressed for a ball just a minute ago.  Now...no, but she was a lace thong away from being naked.  He pulled that off of her, too, and her warm legs wrapped around his waist.  

The next morning, Hank woke up with a slight pounding in his head, but curled around his wife.  The house was quiet.  For once, it was quiet.  Then, just as Hank looked at the clock, the alarm sounded.  Jan woke, stretched, and rolled away, leaving Hank’s arm to drop between them.  Hank rolled onto his back, and declared a very odd-sounding “good morning” as Jan walked to the bathroom.  She didn’t reply.  Somehow, Hank wondered if she’d heard him.  Likely.  Maybe not.  

Hank pulled his bathrobe over his pajama pants, stepped into his slippers, and went down to start coffee.  As the water boiled, he saw that the paper was in, and picked it up, then flipped through.  On page 10, there was a picture of Stark.  The headline read, “STARK SITUATES MIT WITH SEPTEMBER FOUNDATION.”  

Janet. 

MIT. 

A charity event.  

“Stark.” 

Like that, any closeness Hank had felt last night to his wife had evaporated, leaving him feeling hollow inside, in a way he hadn’t known quite possible.  He felt betrayed on some fundamental level which shouldn’t ever have to be stated or expressed. 

Hank was still staring at the newspaper when Jan came down a few minutes later, dressed in yoga pants and twirling her wet hair onto the top of her head.  “Ooh, anything good in the society pages?”  She didn’t look as she went to pour herself a cup.  

Hank blinked, not sure what to say to her.  What on Earth could he say to a woman like that?  He turned, looked at his wife.  How like Maria she looked.

“Maria’s alive.”  

Jan looked at him, clearly not quite following.  “Maria?”  

“Maria--my wife, Maria.  Maria’s alive, and she had a daughter.  We had a daughter.  Nadia.  Pym.”  

The coffee mug Jan was holding slipped her fingers and smashed on the floor.  She took a step back, then looked back at him.  “Excuse me?”  

“I...I know.”  The look on Jan’s face made him feel better about her being with Tony last night.  It actually did.  “I was surprised last night, when I found out.” 

Jan stooped to pick up the bigger pieces of the mug.  “How?”  

“Email.”  

“No, I mean, how did that happen?  How did she find you?  How is she alive?  How do you have a kid?  Were you seeing each other?”  

“No, no,” Hank assured her, finally understanding.  “No, I haven’t seen her since 2000.”  

“Okay, so...what does that mean?”  

“Nadia wants to meet me.  I haven’t replied yet, but she wants to meet me, and...I want to meet her.”  

Jan put the pieces in the trash and picked up a sponge, and stooped to soak up the spilled coffee.  “Of course you do.  Do you think you’re going to visit?”  

“I haven’t decided.  Maria says Nadia wants to see New York.  I’ll have to break it to her, I don’t live in New York.”  

“Why shouldn’t she stay here?”  

It was Hank’s turn to be surprised, though in a decidedly more pleasant way.  “You’d be okay with that?”  

Jan squeezed the sponge into the sink.  “No reason not to.  We have the space.”  She hadn’t done a particularly good job of mopping up the coffee, but nobody would slip, either.  She reached for a new mug, and poured herself a second cup, then wasted no time mixing in the cream. “Besides, she’s my step-daughter.  How old is she?”  

“Sixteen.”  

“Well, can she transfer schools for a semester?  Maria’s right--she’d love New York.”  

“Okay.  I guess it’s settled.”  Hank had expected her to need more talking-around than this.  “Why are you so open to this?”  

Jan shrugged, took a sip of coffee.  “I woke up in a good mood.”  

[abigail-mcnatt-photography]

You know those days when you’re just waiting for something to go wrong? You try to make sure everything is running smoothly, but there’s only so much you can do. Well, Four Chord Music Festival 6 seemed to go exactly that way. From the issues with the ground covering and having to move the entire show to the Highmark Stadium parking lot, to the threatening rain, to the main act cancelling 5 minutes before doors, things started to feel like they were falling apart on the inside. Yet, as always, Rishi Bahl, the creator of the festival, still never gave up. The show went on, as the saying goes, and it turned out to be an incredible show. From the merch tents, the pro-wrestling, the tattoo parlor tent, and the music, it felt like the biggest Four Chord I’ve been to for the last 4 years. The rain nor the cancellation seemed to stop anyone from showing up.

Being that the festival was moved from Xtaza, where it has been held for the last 4 festivals, to Highmark Stadium, another difference this year was that it was produced by local promoting company, Drusky Entertainment.

With a large lineup of fairly well known bands, Four Chord 6 turned out to be incredible. So, let’s dive in and talk about the bands that played.

First off, we had pop/punk locals, Atlantic Wasteland. If you’re familiar with my blog, that name may ring a bell. They’re good friends of mine and I shoot their shows on a regular basis. They’ve got a great mix of pop and punk influences in their music and it’s very refreshing. I’ve seen so many of their shows, but I find myself enjoying each one better than the last. Ausinette (lead vocals), is like the hype woman because she’s everywhere and gets the crowd going. Sam (lead vocals, guitar) puts so much of himself in each performance. You can always tell from my photos cause I capture all his different facial expressions. They’re incredible. If you went to the festival and enjoyed them, they have another show coming up at Club Cafe on November 8th. They put their all into every performance and it’s great to watch.

Next up, and on the second stage, we had pop/punk Pittsburghers, Look Out Loretta. They are a very underrated band. They don ’t play very often, but when they do, it’s almost as if no time has passed since their last performance. Despite them being a small band, the crowd didn’t seem to care. Their energy during the performance was electric. The next time Look Out Loretta hits up a show, I strongly recommend you not missing it. These guys are excellent.

Back on the main stage, we had Fortune Cove, formerly known as Harbour, from Toronto, Canada. They have a sort of fast pop/punk style, which really got the crowd going, thus starting what would be a long evening of mosh pits and crowd surfing. They were a great compliment to the (new) headliners as well. They kind of reminded me of a more punk version of Fall Out Boy. Fortune Cove has played Four Chord in previous years, but under the name Harbour, so they were no stranger to the festival crowd.

Now we are headed back to stage 2, to talk about Keep Flying, an alternative pop punk band from Northeastern US. They’re unique for their inclusion of different and unconventional instruments, such as the saxophone and the trumpet, which were used during their performance. They blend the instruments together, almost as if they’re meant to be used. The crowd kept the moshing going, the drizzling rain not deterring them. Like Fortune Cove, they too have been seen at a few Four Chord Festivals.

If you’re a Four Chord regular, this next band will be very familiar to you, as they’ve played every year of it, since I’ve even been going. Patent Pending, from Long Island, NY, is the band who took the main stage next. They classify as rock/pop punk, and I really enjoy them. Joe Ragosta, the lead singer, is one of the most active and interactive lead singers I’ve ever shot. Every single photo I take of him is different from the last. Plus, he’s constantly moving, so he poses a challenge too. He crowd surfed during this set, which I proudly got some nice photos of. He also talked about being obsessed with the Pittsburgh accent and talked a lot about it, haha. Two of their catchiest, and most popular, songs are, “Douchebag” and “Hey Mario”. The crowd always responds so well to them; from crowd surfing, moshing, throwing their hands in the air, and screaming along lyrics, the audience was no different this year. They’re a bigger band, but they’re the example of a band stuck in their roots, enjoying and treating every performance like it’s their biggest yet, which was the case at Four Chord for sure.

Ping-ponging back to the second stage, we have another band from Ontario, Seaway. No surprise, but they are also classified as pop punk. I can tell you, with certainty, that the rain didn’t get the crowd’s energy down, quite in fact the opposite effect. They were moshing so much I couldn’t get a great spot for my photos, in the front, haha. They were a great adrenaline booster and addition to the festival.

Next up on the main stage, we have the man of the hour, Rishi Bahl and his band, Eternal Boy, local to Pittsburgh.

Let me side track for a minute and just talk about Rishi. This man puts his all into the festival each and every year. This show was no exception, and although it had its issues, it turned out to be incredible. So if you attended, be sure to give him a shout out on Twitter or something because he deserves some major recognition for his dedication and passion for this pop punk festival he created.

Okay, anyway, Eternal Boy. Although Rishi has a festival to put his focus on, his band doesn’t end up coming second. Their performances are always on par — festival or not. They played all the favorites, like “Katie” and “Awkward Phase”, of course. The crowd went wild for them and kept the moshing going. Joe, from Patent Pending, came in for a guest appearance, and to just mess around with the crowd and the band. They always put on an incredible performance, and they definitely didn’t disappoint for this show.

Up next, for the final time on the secondary stage, we had Grayscale, a pop punk band from Philadelphia, PA. I’d first heard them in the VIP event, with Atlantic Wasteland, playing acoustic and I really enjoyed them. They have some heavier vibes, but they aren’t hardcore, which is nice for casual pop punk listeners, like myself. I enjoyed their set during the acoustic session, and enjoyed it just as much when they played the full band set later on in the day. The crowd was insane for them. I was in the pit for about half a song before I gave up and went to photograph from other angles. It started to rain a little bit harder too. But the rain never stopped the audience from enjoying the day.

And now we bring it back to the main stag for the rest of the evening. Now we have Chicago based pop punk band, Knuckle Puck. If you’re an avid pop punk listener, you’ve likely listened to it already love them. If not, you may have at least heard of them. From a photographer perspective, they’re extremely fun. They’re all over the place. The audience was too, with crowd surfer after crowd surfer came through, sometimes two at a time. Knuckle Puck is exactly what you expect when you think of pop punk. They’re just on the cusp of being heavier punk, but are still a tad bit into the pop part of the genre. They’re heavier and definitely embrace their genre and have fun with it, which keeps the crowd on their feet.

Real Friends took the stage next, to continue our trend of heavier pop punk. Real Friends is originally from Illinois and are considered emo/pop punk. Like, Knuckle Puck, they’re a little insane too. But also very fun to watch. By this point it started to get dark and it really added to the effect of the genre. Real Friends have everything you’d ever want in pop punk music. Crowd surfers, yet again, cam multiple at a time. Crazy cool band to watch.

The next band on stage, hasn’t been active since 2014. Anberlin, a rock/alternative band from Florida hit the Four Chord stage next. I personally had never heard of them prior to the show announcement, but the attendees were extremely excited about their reunion show in Pittsburgh. They’d toured over the summer elsewhere, but hadn’t been to Pittsburgh in a good while. By this point in the night, it was pitch black out, but the energy of the crowd was still at an all time high. I barely was able to be in the pit shooting because the crowd was crazy. It was very fun to watch them perform, barely skipping a beat.

And last, but not least, we had our (new) headliners, Simple Plan, a pop punk band from Montreal, Canada. You know, in case you haven’t heard of them, which I don’t know how that’d be possible. They were incredible. They played a decent mix of fan favorites, oldies, and more recent releases. The audience was hyped up for the Four Chord headliners and had the time of their lives. You could see they were in a different world. There were a bit less crowd surfers, but they showed their love and appreciation by dancing and screaming along to every lyric. Since Four Chord, Simple Plan has released a single with State Champs and We The Kings, called “Where I Belong” and will be touring the country as well.

Four Chord Music Festival 6 was a success, despite all of the ups and downs throughout the process. I couldn’t be prouder of Rishi and how much work he puts into his festivals. I can’t wait to see what he’s got up his sleeve for Four Chord 7.

Grayscale

Seaway

Simple Plan

Atlantic Wasteland

Eternal Boy

Grayscale

Anberlin

Real Friends

Fortune Cove

Atlantic Wasteland

Real Friends

Keep Flying

Keep Flying

Knuckle Puck

Eternal Boy

Fortune Cove

Look Out Loretta

Knuckle Puck

Fortune Cove

Seaway

Knuckle Puck

Fortune Cove

Real Friends

Simple Plan

Grayscale

Simple Plan

Eternal Boy

Keep Flying

Look Out Loretta

Atlantic Wasteland

Anberlin

Grayscale

Knuckle Puck

Look Out Loretta

Seaway

Real Friends

Simple Plan

Simple Plan

Patent Pending

Atlantic Wasteland

Anberlin

Anberlin

Simple Plan

Patent Pending

Patent Pending

Look Out Loretta

Patent Pending

Eternal Boy

Seaway

Four Chord Music Festival 6 You know those days when you’re just waiting for something to go wrong? You try to make sure everything is running smoothly, but there’s only so much you can do.

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON XLNC’S MAIN RAP, LEAD VOCAL, BASS MIN HANEUL…

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 20 DEBUT AGE: 18 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: N/A COMPANY: KJH ETC: this member is involved in lyric writing

IDOL IMAGE

Despite being an indie band, it was safe to say that KJH had XLNC firmly under their thumb. And that meant controlling how each member appeared to the public- if the original members of the band were restricted, then Haneul was more or less a puppet for the company. Of course, to play it safe, they give him the most boring storyline possible, so as not to upset the original fans. He starts off as the flower boy- the pretty one, the icon of a bubbly rookie but not the one meant to be saying very much, doing very much, more or less just there as a placeholder, a space filler. After that it’s the story of how he grows. A showcase of rare moments of genius, then hard hard work and a few emotional breakdowns here and there, and finally bam, real talent and the fans were the ones who helped him do it. In contrast to his more rough-around-the-edges (and dare we say it, raw and real) bandmates, Haneul is expected to be the perfect one, the good boy, a mary sue story with just enough heartbreak in it for the fans to buy into.

Of course, like any good story, it has just a tiny bit of truth in it. Haneul’s always been fairly friendly, mostly calm, and a good boy when he wants to be. His smile is too pretty to be considered fake and of course that plays into both his and the company’s advantage- despite being almost entirely written up on a piece of paper during a company meeting, his facade fits perfectly. Haneul can be the perfect statue: there’s no need to talk too much about a song he didn’t write, think up new details to stories that didn’t really happen, get frustrated over things he knows he can’t change only to expose even more vulnerabilities for the knets to latch onto like vultures. That’s everyone else’s job. It’s all too easy to play innocent and shy and docile, the rest of his personality just comes as a ‘pleasant surprise’ when he does show it.

That’s what makes the ploy real, of course. Haneul’s usually playful, plenty clingy, just enough mischievous and even the slightest bit of a playboy. Or what’s what the watered down version that KJH presents to the public. In truth he is all of those things and far more, a charming player with too much wit and too much ambition for his own good. Other times he is sharp minded, sharp tongued, a waking cactus ready to prick anybody who gets too close. But even he knows that it’s not in his favour to be this bold- perhaps if he was in a typical idol group, but not with XLNC. Instead, all the ambition and rebellion is written off as being passionate and free spirited, falling into the funnel of whatever they deemed as ‘emo’. On stage, he is expected to be cool and charming- or depressed, or angry, whatever the song calls for, he acts it out. And yet off stage Haneul has to play nice, like the stage was just for performance and well- both of them are, really.

The only thing that the company allows, that he allows himself, are brief moments of weakness. Briefly lapses in his golden personality, shows of the vulnerable teen inside who can still cry, still scream. And yet for the sake of a good show, these moments have become just as manufactured as the next. Sometimes Haneul can’t tell what he’s really feeling anymore, but as long as the fans gobble it up, that’s fine, right?

IDOL HISTORY

Haneul’s life was one of the things that KJH liked to dig out and show off over and over again, and yet it was not nearly as glorious as they made it out to be. Yes, he was born to a family of artists, but they had never been celebrities, they never lived in fancy houses, never were the musical geniuses people thought about. No they were rather plain, some third rate singer that had enough time on his hands to pursue a full time job on top of occasional gigs and a classical musician that, despite never being home, made just enough to keep up their modest apartment. Being born into his household meant that from young, he had no misguided dreams about what it was like to pursue the path of an entertainer. The starving artist trope was all too real and, as time went on, music just existed to be less and less of something that was enjoyed and more as a burdened tool that could not perform well enough to grant them the life they wanted to lead.

He was never encouraged to go down the same path his parents did- quite far from it, all Haneul’s parents wanted from him were good enough grades, a solid university, and some boring office job that could cost him (and them) comfortably through the rest of their lives. And for much of his childhood that’s what he had followed. A free spirit hammered down to a neat and tidy uniform, a lopsided smirk straightened to the perfect schoolboy’s smile, at least 16 teeth showing in every school photo. Perhaps that was when he got so good at acting, so good at pretending. If it made his parents happy and in turn benefited him, then it was okay to keep at it for a little while longer. And then when he grew up, he dreamed, he’d be the biggest superstar, far better than his parents would have ever dreamed of. And for a while he had almost thought this would come true.

But life had a way of toying with him, didn’t it? In elementary school, his mother died unexpectedly- just a run of the mill hit and run but of course, there was no saving her. Life crumbled away after that. It wasn’t at all like the tv dramas; his father never drank, never hit him, just squashed down Haneul even more and killed the young child from the inside out. Perhaps that was when he broke. Middle school found the teen packed away to some mildly prestigious boarding school half a city away. Middle school also found him… never where he was supposed to be. Yes, he went to most of his classes, yes, his average was at that rocky 90%, but what his parents never knew was that the rest of his time went to busking on the streets, in cafes or around Hongdae at night, wherever he could get his hands on and wouldn’t get kicked out of just because he was a lanky kid with a half broken mic and some soundcloud mix of beats.

There was just a couple of them, not-yet-grown children forming up some semblance of a rock band as soon as they each got to know the basic chords on the guitar. It wasn’t of course, what he had dreamed about. But those nights where he snuck out, occasionally stealing drags of a cigarette or a swig of beer after shows- it became his everything. It was as if Haneul had a double identity- one where he was the perfect student his father expected him to be, and one that was every bit a wild delinquent as the ones that people spat at. And he found that he liked the second one better. The act, it wasn’t him, but music /was/. And it was beautiful. He knew he couldn’t keep it forever, but for as long as it lasted, Haneul would cling on to the tiny bit that kept him alive. So when some KJH scout wanders up to him and passes that fateful business card- how could he say no?

That’s how Haneul left, left the boring life he had behind. It had taken a few angry phone calls, perhaps, a trip home where more than one curse was thrown around and furniture with it and Haneul couldn’t even quite remember how he did it but- he went back with signatures scrawled unwittingly across some paperwork. The then 16 year old was filled with no, not dreams, but ambition and plans to prove himself to the world and most importantly, as better than his parents. And like always it was too late when reality caught up. The company had been interested in his appearance, that was all. His vocals certainly weren’t up to par, nor his rap. Yes, Haneul could play the guitar and write a little, but so what? If they didn’t see a fit, then no amount of hardwork would ever amount to anything. It was almost two years of that, a constant rollercoaster between anticipation and then never ending disappointment. Then KJH decided to sign XLNC. At first, that had nothing to do with Haneul. But perhaps indie bands were never meant to be like idols, because the people certainly weren’t… and soon enough there was conveniently a spot for a bassist and KJH just so happened to have somebody who could play. Wonderful, wasn’t it?

[weekendwarriorblog]

WHAT TO WATCH THIS WEEKEND December 21, 2018  - Mary Poppins Returns, Aquaman, Bumblebee, Second Act, Welcome to Marwen

This was going to be my last column for the year, but there’s just too much to write about, so I’m going to split it up and publish another, hopefully shorter, column next Monday. This is the last weekend before Christmas, and while there are a ton of big movies released – as well as a couple lower-key ones – most of these movies will just be doing a very small part of their overall business in the generally slower weekend before they explode next week with everyone off from school and most off from work all week.

MARY POPPINS RETURNS (Disney)

Opening on Wednesday is Walt Disney Pictures’ last prospective blockbuster of the year as well as a sequel to one of the company’s most iconic films over its entire history, 1964’s Mary Poppins, which was nominated for 13 Oscars, winning five. Mary Poppins Returns might also be Disney’s first big play for a Best Picture nomination since The Helpin 2011, which actually was a DreamWorks movie. Then again, Disney already seemingly has its stokes in the Oscar fire this year with Marvel’s Black Panther, so this family musical in the Walt Disney tradition might be suitable back-up.

It’s the latest movie directed by Rob Marshall, who helped Disney’s Miramax division win Best Picture with his theatrical directorial debut Chicago, then delivered a musical holiday hit for Disney four years ago with Into the Woods, which grossed $128 million from a Christmas Day release. Chicago grossed $170 million after its own Christmas Day platform release in 2002, and that got Marshall the gig directing 2011’s Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides, which grossed $241 million in North America but did even better with $800 million overseas.

Marshall reunites with a couple of his Into the Woods stars, most notably Emily Blunt, who is so perfect to step into the very big shoes of the original Mary Poppins, Julie Andrews.  Blunt is already having quite a spectacular year after starring in hubby John Krasinski’s The Quiet Place, which grossed $188 million domestically, making it Blunt’s highest-grossing movie to date. A few years ago, Blunt starred in the movie based on the bestselling book The Girl on the Train, which also did decently with $75 million, and that was mostly based on her name (and the book, of course.)  That should be enough to help place Blunt even closer to the A-list and playing Mary Poppins is likely to solidify that role. Who knows? It might even get her that Oscar nomination that has been so elusive despite having six Golden Globe nominations.

Of course, Blunt is ably helped by popular actor-rapper-songwriter Lin Manuel Miranda, whose Hamilton broke many records for Broadway musical and who is working on adapting his previous musical In the Heights  for the screen. Miranda previously got involved with the Disney brand when he wrote songs and provided his voice for Dwayne Johnson’s Moana a few years back, and no surprise that he’s out there doing the most press and talk shows for Mary Poppins Returns. Then on top of those two stars, Marshall and Blunt also reunite with Into the Wood’s Oscar-nominated scene stealerMeryl Streep, clearly an A-list star who can bring people out to see almost anything she does, although she only appears for one song/musica number in this movie. The cast is rounded out by Ben Whishaw, James Bond’s Q, and Emily Mortimer, another great British actor, plus there are a couple highly-publicized cameos by original Mary Poppins stars that will be a thrill to fans of the original.

The thing is that there’s a whole generation or two that did not grow up watching the original Disney movie, so they won’t have the personal connection to the character/movie as their parents might. Also, one can expect that males of all ages will be more interested in checking out Aquaman  or Bumblebee their opening weekend,

It’s important to remember a couple things – the first one being that the weekend before Christmas can be slower than usual, and the second being that opening on Wednesday means that really diehard fans who can’t wait until the weekend might try to see it before heading out of town for the holidays. On the other hand, some might just wait until the weekend or until Christmas week to see it with their families. Either way, these things will likely keep the movie’s weekend numbers to be too crazy.

Because of that, I can see Mary Poppins Returns  making around $10 million on Wednesday and Thursday, getting a nice bump over the weekend to just over $40 million, but REALLY exploding in the week beginning with Christmas to the point where I can see it hitting $200 million by New Year’s Day, which would be quite amazing for a studio that is having their best year ever.

MY REVIEW OF MARY POPPINS RETURNS

AQUAMAN (Warner Bros.)

It’s hard to imagine the latest movie from Warner Bros’ DC Universe might be considered counter-programming to a Disney movie, but let’s face it, Warner Bros. has been struggling against the Disney-Marvel Studios titan for a bunch of years now, and they need a way back into fans’ good graces after last year’s Justice League and 2015’s Suicide Squad.

It’s hard to believe that anyone would ever make an Aquaman movie, especially after the famous Entouragegag – not to mention Saturday Night Liveand others making fun of the character. Jason Momoa’s Atlantean warrior from the Justice League movie is indeed getting his own solo movie, directed by James Wan of Furious 7  and three horror franchises: Saw, Insidious and The Conjuring.

Joining Momoa as Mera is Amber Heard, who also had a brief appearance in Justice League, but has mainly been off-the-grid with the long-delayed London Fields and in the tabloids for her issues with her ex Johnny Depp. Heard hasn’t really been in a major release since the Oscar bait The Danish Girl and Magic Mike XXL in 2015.

The cast also includes Oscar winner Nicole Kidman (as Aquaman’s mother), Oscar nominee Willem Dafoe (as Aquaman’s advisor) and Wan regular Patrick Wilson as his brother Orm aka one of the film’s main baddies, Ocean Master. It also stars Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as Aquaman’s other bad guy, Black Manta.

Reviewsfor the movie have generally been mixed but on par with Mary Poppins Returns, maybe a little lower, but much better than Justice Leagueor Suicide Squad. (Thank, God!) Warner Bros. even gave the movie sneak previews this past Saturday for Amazon Prime users, in which it made $2.9 million. That might help get the word out on the movie, but it also might take some money away from the movie’s opening weekend, since many probably went to see it early from positive reviews.

The movie will also have to tackle the most direction competition from Paramount’s Bumblebee (see below) as well as last week’s well-received Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, which is likely to have strong word-of-mouth business from last weekend going by its rare A+ CinemaScore.

Expect Aquaman to do decently over the pre-holiday weekend with $70 to 75 million, because as mentioned before, many people are travelling or doing last-minute shopping over the weekend, but expect it to continue to bring in repeat business over the holidays, so I could see it grossing $250 million or slightly more by the time it leaves theaters.

Also, make sure to check out my interview with director James Wan over at the awesome new VitalThrills.com! Very excited to have a byline on that relatively new site!

MY REVIEW OF AQUAMAN

BUMBLEBEE (Paramount)

The third big movie of the weekend -- and some will find it crazy that Paramount is releasing it this weekend against the two stronger movies above -- is the latest movie in the Transformers franchise, the prequel telling the story of Autobot Bumblebee.

Directed by Travis Knight, the CEO of Laika Studios and director of the stop-motion animated Kubo and the Two Strings, this is a prequel that shows the origin of the beloved Transformer character as he’s sent to earth during the Fall of Cybertron and ends up befriending a rebellious teenager (played by Hailee Steinfeld) in 1987.

Having a female lead in a Transformers is quite groundbreaking since women were mostly used as eye candy in Michael Bay’s movies, but Hailee Steinfeld has done a good job establishing herself with her debut role in the Coens’ True Grit, for which she received an Oscar nomination. Since then, she’s been in films like Ender’s Game, Begin Again, Pitch Perfect 2 and most recently, voicing the role of Spider-Gwen in Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse.

On the plus side, having a female lead might help bring in younger girls that might not normally be interested in Transformers, but it could theoretically turn off the guys who have already been complaining about the female leads in the Star Wars saga. Both franchises are very male-driven, and both of the new movies above will be of equal interest to anyone who might be interested in Bumblebee.

Fortunately, Bumblebee is much better than most people are expecting, and some might be surprised that it currently has better reviews than both Aquaman AND Mary Poppins with 98% Fresh on Rotten Tomatoes, as of this writing.  It does have a ton of competition arriving in theaters, but it’s fairly clear that Paramount and Allspark Films (the film division of Hasbro) are hoping to get some run-off over the holidays from people who have already seen the above two movies, as well as Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. The fact that Paramount gave a well-attended early sneak preview of Bumblebee on Dec 8 gives you some idea how confident they are that the fans will dig so.

Even so, Bumblebee will be lucky to make more than $20 million this weekend, although there might be enough room with most people off work and out of school on Sunday to see more than one movie this weekend. I can see this one making around $25 million over the weekend but it should also be able to exceed $100 million by New Year’s, and its overseas money should help Paramount stay in the Transformers business for some time.

MY REVIEW OF BUMBLEBEE

SECOND ACT (STXfilms)

And then we get to some big-time counter-programming, and in this case, it might be a movie that might have a hard time finding an audience, especially against Mary Poppins Returns.

Second Actcould just as well have been called “Jennifer Lopez Returns,” because it is in fact her first major non-voice role in theaters since 2015’s thriller The Boy Next Door. That movie was a bit of a joke, yet it still opened with nearly $15 million and grossed $35.3 million based on her role. Her previous movie Parker two years earlier didn’t fair particularly well, much of which may be attributed to her not being as much in the public eye in terms of movies anyway.

Directed by Peter Segal (50 First Dates), Second Actis more in vein of Lopez’s 2002 hit Maid in Manhattan, which grossed $94 million over the holidays after a moderate $18.7 million December opening. Lopez went on to have a few other romantic comedy hits after that including Shall We Danceand Monster-in-Law, but others like The Back-Up Plan (2010) and What to Expect When You’re Expecting (2012) barely made it to $40 million domestic.

That brings us to 2018 where Lopez hasn’t really been in a movie in some time but still has quite a few female fans, and maybe some of them might not be so interested in the mostly white Mary Poppins Returns. (Yes, I realize Lin Manuel Miranda is Puerto Rican-American … no need to write that angry letter/tweet!)

The movie offers a great premise which has Lopez making it in big business after a friend makes up a fake Facebook account, and it’s something that helps push the female empowerment conversation from the past few years even further. Earlier this year, STX released Amy Schumer’s I Feel Pretty, which did decently with $16 million opening, grossing nearly $49 million domestically, despite terrible reviews.

The trailers for Second Act have been received similarly well and Lopez has been doing her fair share of the talk show rounds, but otherwise, STX has only opened one movie with more than $20 million, and that was 2016’s Bad Moms, which was an easy sell even for its rushed-out sequel Bad Moms Christmaslast year.

Even though Second Actseems like a strong inspirational story, it also seems like the definition of a holiday movie that’s released in the bad weekend pre-Christmas, in which it probably couldn’t make more than $8 million. If the movie is as good as it looks, I can see women going to see it with female friends over the holidays to make it a sleeper with between $40 and 50 million total.

Mini-Review: I didn’t go into Second Act expecting much, even though Peter Segal did direct one of Adam Sandler’s better films (50 First Dates).  I certainly didn’t expect that I’d relate to Jennifer Lopez’s Maya as much as I did. No, I’m not a Latina woman from Queens who works in a supermarket, but I have been having trouble getting a job since I don’t have a degree despite having 25 years of experience writing for the internet.

But enough about me, let’s get back to Second Act, a movie with such an up-front premise that you will pretty much get exactly what you might expect if you’ve seen the trailer and liked what you saw. Somehow, Maya finds herself as a consultant at a big-name corporation’s make-up department because her friend’s son doctored her resumé and Facebook page.

Lopez is definitely in her element with this sort of premise which falls somewhere between Working Girl and 13 Going on 30, and if you like those inspirational woman-empowerment comedies, then you’ll probably find elements to like about Second Act as well.

Much of that is due to Lopez’s supporting cast, a group of underrated funny women like Leah Remini (as Maya’s best friend) and Charlyne Yi (an office assistant) plus Vanessa Hudgens proving once again that she’s quite good at handling anything that’s thrown her way as Maya’s primary competition at the company. Some of the jokes work better than others, but whenever Remini is on-screen, you can expect to laugh.

Sure, the overall premise is one that’s already a little hard to swallow, but then it goes off the rails with a twist absolutely no one will see coming. And yet, it somehow finds a way to recover nicely and get its audience back.

Regardless, Second Act is a perfectly harmless and safe film that gives you more than a few laughs, might even have you in tears at times, but basically gives you exactly what’s advertised, which is something rather rare these days.

Rating: 7/10

WELCOME TO MARWEN (Universal)

Lastly, there’s the latest movie from Robert Zemeckis, which ten to fifteen years ago, may have been a huge deal, especially following the huge success he had with Tom Hanks inCast Awayand Forest Gump, both which were Oscar-nominated (and winning) mega-blockbusters.

Zemeckis’ last film, the WWII spy drama Allied, only made $40 million despite starting Brad Pitt and Marion Cotillard, and his real-life story The Walkstarring Joseph Gordon Lewis might as well have been thrown over the side of the World Trade Center, because it tanked so badly. Zemeckis’ last hit was Flight, starring Denzel Washington, which barely grazed $100 million domestic, but also received two Oscar nominations. The three movies before that were performance capture animated movies with had varying degrees of success.

Like Flight and The Walk, Welcome to Marwenis based on a true story, that of artist Mark Hogancamp, who was injured in a brutal attack and finds therapeutic solace in the models and dolls he builds in his backyard. Hogancamp’s story was previously told in Jeff Maimberg’s award-winning doc Marwencol in 2010, although I’m not sure that many people are aware that doc exists.

Like Nicole Kidman above, this is Steve Carell’s third movie of the year, including the Christmas Day opener Vice, and his last drama Beautiful Boy has only grossed $7.5 million… and that was with super-hot Timothée Calamet! Carell’s 2017 releases, Richard Linklater’s Last Flag Flying and Battle of the Sexes haven’t fared much better, and he’s generally done better voicing Gru in Illumination Studios’ Despicable Me and Minions movies. For this one, Carell is co-starring Leslie Mann (reuniting with Carell for the first time since his breakout film The 40 Year Old Virgin), Eisa Gonzalez from Baby Driver, Game of Thrones’ Gwendoline Christie, Diane Kruger and Janelle Monae, a solid female supporting cast, for sure.

There have been many movies like this released right before Christmas in hopes for any sort of business over the holidays. Movies like Jim Carrey’s The Majestic opened with less than $5 million in 2001, and Will Smith’s Collateral Beautyonly did slightly better in 2016 with its $7 million opening. Also, there was the Tom Hanks movie Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, which only got a platform release over Christmas, which is generally the way to go for movies looking for Oscar nominations.

In some ways, Marwen reminds me of Ben Stiller’s 2013 remake of The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, which opened on Christmas Day (a Wednesday) with $7.8 million and made another $12.7 million on its way to $58 million domestic. I don’t think Marwen could do that well since it’s opening before the Christmas holiday bump, because Universal is only opening Zemeckis’ latest in 1,900 theaters, and the movie has barely been screened for critics or awards groups before this coming week, which tells you that the studio doesn’t see it being an Oscar player.

Frankly, I’d be shocked if Marwen made more than $5 million this weekend, but if it’s any good, it could make upwards of $30 million but not much more. There’s just too much stronger competition in theaters.

Mini-Review: If you haven’t seen Jeffrey Maimberg’s doc – and I haven’t – then you might be even more puzzled by why Robert Zemeckis might want to dramatize the story of artist Mark Hogancamp who was beaten up outside an upstate bar and left in such a bad mental state, he lost all his memories. In order to get through the repercussions of such an assault, he began building a small town called Marwencol in his backyard, populating it with dolls that he would put into various hero scenarios.

Maybe this premise wouldn’t be so weird if the movie doesn’t start off with a WWII action scene involving Carell’s Captain Hogie in doll form taking on Nazis and being saved by a group of women… and the seeming cross between live action and animation just gets weirder and weirder as the movie goes along. There’s also Mark’s proclivity for collecting and wearing women’s high heel shoes, which also plays a pivotal role in the story, as does a “Belgian witch” named Deja (after the John Carter of Mars character), who is voiced by Diane Kruger, who doesn’t have a real-life counterpart like all of Hogie’s other women.

Sometime in the past ten years or more, you may have heard one woman or another complain about the body issues created by Barbie dolls that real girls couldn’t possibly live up to… so take that and then add a poorly-chosen Robert Palmer song, and you can understand why this movie might get many young women bristled.

It’s hard to completely hate a movie that features Leslie Mann in such a key role as Mark’s across-the-street neighbor Nicol, on which he has developed such a huge crush. This 40-Year-Old Virgin offers the movie’s sweetest and most emotional moments but then it’s soon lost in more silliness with dolls or once again showing Mark being beaten up on that fateful night. Janelle Monae and some of the other actors are wasted, barely appearing fully in human form.

The saddest part about this movie is that it’s painfully aware that Zemeckis has completely lost touch with the kind of movies that audiences might want to see, and Welcome to Marwen frequently has you asking, “Who was this movie supposed to be for?” Rating: 5/10

It certainly will be interesting to see how the top 3 movies fare in a busy pre-Christmas weekend, but even moreso to see how they affect the well-received Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse and Clint Eastwood’s The Mule, although the former will probably be more affected than the latter. Fox Searchlight will continue to expand The Favourite nationwide, this Friday into 775, as it racks up awards and nominations, although I’m not sure that will be enough to break into the top 10. It probably will end up with around $2 million or so, as will, Focus Features’ Mary Queen of Scots, starring Saoirse Ronan, which will expand into 700 theaters with Ronan doing the talk show rounds this week. It’s a battle of the costume dramas outside the top 10, but expect both of them to find business over the holidays.

This week’s Top 10 should look something like this… (and mind you, these are all for three days, Friday through Sunday)

1. Aquaman  (Warner Bros.)  - $73.6 million N/A 2. Mary Poppins Returns  (Disney) - $41 million N/A ($10 million on Weds/Thursday) 3. Bumblebee  (Paramount) - $25.5 million N/A 4. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-verse  (Sony) - $19.4 million -45% 5.The Mule (Warner Bros.) - $9.1 million -48% 6. Second Act (STXfilms) - $7.5 million N/A 7. The Grinch  (Universal) - $7 million -40% 8. Welcome to Marwen  (Universal) - $5 million N/A 9.Ralph Breaks the Internet  (Disney) – $4.4 million -48% 10. Mortal Engines  (Universal) - $3.4 million -55% -- The Favourite  (Fox Searchlight) - $2.1 million -- Mary Queen of Scots (Focus Features) - $1.8 million

LIMITED RELEASES

Thankfully, things are slowing down as far as limited releases with only a few left this weekend and a couple more next week.

First up is the new film from Oscar-winning Polish filmmaker Pawel Pawlikowsky (Ida), as COLD WAR  (Amazon Studios), this one a love story between a young singer and older conductor and how that relationship evolves over the course of the years and a number of world events that try to come between them. I wrote about the film briefly when it played the New York Film Festival earlier this year and hope to rewatch it over the holidays, because it’s quite amazing. A wonderful story told in a tight 90 minutes, all in black and white with fantastic cinematography by Lukasz Zal, who received an Oscar nomination for his camerawork and lighting on Ida. It opens in select cities on Friday.

Opening in L.A. for a one-week Oscar consideration run is Kenneth Branagh’s ALL IS TRUE  (Sony Pictures Classics), which I haven’t had a chance to seen myself, but it takes place during the final years of William Shakespeare in 1613 with Branagh playing the playwright, Judi Dench playing his wife Anne and Ian McKellen as the Earl of Southampton, who according to Roland Emmerich’s Anonymous, may have authored Shakespeare’s works. It follows the burning down of Shakespeare’s Globe Theater which sends him back to his family in Stratford. No word on when it will get a normal theatrical release, but from what I heard, it doesn’t have much of a chance for Oscars either.

Written by Luc Besson and Richard Wenk  (The Equalizer) and directed by Steven Quale  (Final Destination 5), American Renegades  (Europacorp) follows a group of Navy SEALS who have hidden a vast treasure underwater in a lake in Sorbia. It stars Sullivan Stapleton (300: Rise of an Empire), JK Simmons, Sylvia Hoeks (Blade Runner 2049) and others, and I’m not 100% convinced it’s going to be in many theaters this Friday, but it will be on VOD and digital download on Christmas Day.

Maria Pulero’s psychological thriller Between Worlds  (Saban Films), playing in New York (Cinema Village) and L.A. (Arena Cinelounge) following its VOD release earlier in the week, stars Nicholas Cage as truck driver Joe, who has an encounter with a fellow trucker Julie (Franka Potente, The Bourne Identity) who is able to travel through the astral plane to communicate with the dead. When her daughter Billie (Penelope Mitchell from Hemlock Grove) ends up in a motorcycle accident, Julie uses her power to try to bring her back but instead brings back Joe’s ex-wife and puts her spirit in Billie’s body. Sexual hijinks ensue.

This holiday’s special Bollywood film is Aanand Rai’s Zero (Yash Raj Films USA Inc.), starring Shah Rukh Khan as a young man from a wealthy affluent family who meets two women (Katrina Kaif, Anushka Sharma) who take him on a journey to broaden his horizons. It should be in a couple hundred theaters on Friday.

Also on Wednesday night is a special screening of Christina Kallas’ ensemble drama The Rainbow Experiment (Gravitas), which was the opening night film of this past year’s 13thAnnual Harlem International Film Festival and is currently on VOD. It will screen at the Xavier High School where it was filmed Weds. at 6pm, and you can find out more information and get tickets on the Facebook page.

STREAMING

Streaming on Netflix Friday is the post-apocalyptic thriller BIRD BOX, directed by Danish filmmaker Susanne Bier (In a Better World) and adapted from Josh Malerman’s novel with Eric Heisserer (Arrival). It stars Sandra Bullock as a woman travelling with two small children down a river, all three blindfolded to prevent them from being affected by a virus that has forced millions of people to commit suicide. Since I don’t have many limited releases, I’m going to go ahead and review the movie which I got to see Monday night.

I haven’t read the book, but this is a really interesting decision for Bier, who has done smaller dramas for the most part, and Bird Box really allows her to up her game with a couple action set pieces as well as a lot more involved story.  Although much of the marketing has focused on Bullock’s boat trip with the two kids, the movie spends just as much time five years earlier as some kind of virus or event causes millions across the globe to kill themselves. It’s quickly determined that being outside with your eyes open causes you to become infected by the deadly virus.

Bullock’s character is pregnant and she ends up fleeing to a house full of a disparate group of characters played by John Malkovich, B.D. Wong, Trevante Rhodes from Moonlight, Rosa Salazar, Jacki Weaver, Lil Rel Howery (Get Out) and Machine Gun Kelly. They’re soon joined by an also-pregnant Danielle McDonald (Dumplin’), as the film cuts between this group trying to survive and get along with Bullock and the two kids rowing down the river with the blanks filled in as it goes along.

I really found this to be a fascinating high-concept premise that actually thrived from the interesting cast and Bier’s ability with pulling out great emotions from an audience through performances and the remarkable score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross. Of course, Bullock is as fantastic as always but I was equally impressed with Rhodes who is proving himself to be a heroic lead that audiences can root for.  The film has lots of twists that keep you guessing a out what might happen as others are introduced in to the mix, and frankly, I found myself liking this as much or more than A Quiet Place, mainly due to the cast. I also have to say that it was very enjoyable seeing the movie with an audience as well, and it will play in a couple theaters Friday.

Rating: 7.5/10

Also streaming on Netflix Friday is Irek Dobrowolski’s doc Struggle: The Life and Lost Art of Szukalski about the Polish surrealist who was rediscovered in 1968 by pop culture collector Glenn Bray who brought it to the attention of underground comic publisher George DiCaprio. (George and his famous son Leo are two of the producers on the film.)

REPERTORY

In some cases, this week is a continuation of series that began last week, so if you see your favorite repertory theater missing, then just go back and check last week’s column. Also, the Alamo Drafthouse in Brooklyn will be showing René Manzor’s 1989 French genre holiday film Dial Code Santa Claus (a new 2K restoration via AGFA)on Dec. 19 (sold out!) and Dec. 23.

METROGRAPH (NYC):

In the Year of the Grifter continues, while the weekend’s Playtime: Family Matinee is The Muppet Christmas Carol, while the Metrograph will continue to show some popular holiday favorites in its series Holidays at the Metrotraph, which includes The Umbrellas of Cherbourg  (1964), Vincente Minell’s Meet Me in St. Louis (1944), Joe Dante’s Gremlins (I984), John Landis’ Trading Places  (1983), Paul Thomas Anderson’s Phantom Thread  (2017) and of course, Todd Haynes’  Carol.

FILM FORUM (NYC):

Beginning on Friday is a new 4k restoration of Marcel Pagnol’s The Baker’s Wife  (Janus Films) from 1938, another French filmmaker who I know every little about, although this stars Raim, who also starred in Pagnol’s Marseilles Trilogy. This weekend’s Film Forum Jr.  is the late, great Charlie Chaplin’s 1928 filmThe Circus.

EGYPTIAN THEATRE (LA):

The theater’s Holiday Spirit 2018  series continues with double features of Tim Burton’s Batman Returns and Joe Dante’s Gremlins, as well as the even odder double feature ofDie Hard(1988) and Trail of Robin Hood  (1950). On Saturday night, there’s a “Cyberpunk Megazone” double feature of 1995’s Virtual Assassin  and Hologram Man with introduction by Rob Schrab. And on Saturday… It’s a Wonderful Life (1946) but also another oddball holiday double feature of The Dorm That Dripped Blood (1982) and The Oracle  (1985).

AERO  (LA):

American Cinemateque’s other L.A. theater is also getting into the Holiday Spirit  with The Lion in Winter (1968) on Thursday night, Will Ferrell’s Elf (2003) on Friday, Meet Me in St. Louis (1944) on Saturday and It’s a Wonderful Life  TWICE (!) on Sunday, because that seems to be the go-to for repertory theaters this season.

QUAD CINEMA (NYC):

Visconti’s Death in Venice (1971) continues through Thursday and the theater’s vast Rated X series will continue into the new year with Beyond the Valley of the Dolls  (1970), Sam Raimi’s The Evil Dead  (1981), the Japanese erotic drama In the Realm of the Senses  (1976) playing over the weekend, as well as many more.

IFC CENTER (NYC)

Yup, It’s a Wonderful Life will continue to play here as well, while this weekend’s Late Night Favorites  will be David Byrne’s Eraserhead, the Weekend Classics Coen Bros. movie is The Hudsucker Proxy  (1994) on 35mm, and this weekend’s Shaw Brothers Spectacular running Friday, Saturday and Sunday at midnight is Holy Flame of the Martial World  (1983).

THE NEW BEVERLY  (L.A.):

Tarantino’s renovated theater continues its holiday celebrations with double features of National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation and Scrooged on Weds. and Thurs. (sold out online but with tickets at the door). It’s a Wonderful Life and A Christmas Story play as double features on Friday and Saturday, Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Jingle All the Way  has matinees on Saturday and Sunday, and then Die Hard and The Silent Partner play as double features on Sunday and Monday’s Christmas Eve.

LANDMARK THEATRES NUART  (LA):

Also showing Bruce Willis’ Die Hard at midnight on Friday night.

FILM SOCIETY OF LINCOLN CENTER(NYC):

The amazing Jacques Tourneur, Fearmaker series continues, and between this, the Quad’s Rated X series and all the great programming at the Metrograph, New York repertory-philes should be set for the weekend before Christmas and next week, as well.

MOMA (NYC):

Modern Matinees: Douglas Fairbanks Jr. continues with The Exile  (1947) on Weds., Sinbad the Sailor  (1947) and The Dawn Patrol  (1930) on Friday.

MUSEUM OF THE MOVING IMAGE (NYC):

A Cher For All Seasons continues.  

I was hoping this would be the last column of the year, but there are two new movies opening in wide release on Tuesday, Christmas Day,the Will Ferrell-John C. Reilly comedy HOLMES AND WATSON  (Sony) and the Will Ferrell-produced Adam McKay semi-comedy VICE (Annapurna Pictures). Instead of bombarding you with more numbers and info, I will post another mini-column NEXT MONDAY. Something to read while you wait for Santa to bring you better presents.

[cosmosbestiary]

Elves

This topic may cause some confusion as the word elves isn’t the name of a race, better known as the original elves, but is also use to refer a group of races all descendants from the original elves. To help ease the confusion this will cause we call modern elves elfin (it is both singular and plural) and the original elves just elves when talking about them. We will also divine this up into sections one dealing with the elfin races and the other dealing with the elves. Elfin Elfin races are a group of epic humanoid mystics who are descendants of the elves and have physical traits share almost them. Now let’s be clear there are far too many elfin races to list them down in one entry so we will only talk about what traits both physically and culturally share as to better understand them as whole. Biology Elfin are normally around 1.524m(5ft) with some races being smaller or rarely bigger, and they all have long pointed ears and large glowing eyes of one solid color. Their hands and feet only have four digits instead of the human five, and they also have blue blood. They come in a variety of pastel colors which server as quick and easy way to identify want elfin race you’re dealing with as the don’t different too much in their coloration per race, and while they have both facial hair and scalp they don’t have any body hair at all. They also all have the following physical traits. Long Live: Elfin live for about 800 years, they reach adult around 110 years old. This long lifespan means that long at everything in the long term which come back to bit them many times. As the view often makes it hard for them to act fast when needed. Iron Allergy: Strangely elfin have this allergy that causes them to blister and burn when they come into contact with it. It doesn’t seem to affect them however when it is used to make other metals, so elfin can use streel just fine. Eleven Eyes: Elfin have amazing eye sight easily on par with that of falcons, and thanks no magical base bioluminescent in their eyes (that why they glow) they can see in the dark just fine. Eleven Hearing: The elfin hearing range is equal to that of wolves. Rhythm: Elfin are very skill at singing, dancing, and rhyming, so good in fact they can and do literally break out in song and dance numbers like some kind of musical. This also makes it fairly easy for them to learn musical instruments and most elfin do know how to play many different instruments. Now the reason they can do this isn’t fully understood but elfin do have a form of synesthesia that allows them to see music as colors and many believe this at least part of the reason for it. Eleven Reflexes: Elfin hand eye coordination is incredible by human standers, even untrained elfin can shoot the wings of a robin with ease using almost any kind of hand held range weapon. Eleven Movement: All elfin are about three times faster than humans in term of running speed and they can also jump about three times their body length. Combine this with the fact that they are hypermobility and have highly developed proprioception and equilibrioception senses means that elfin are extremely good at things like parkour and gymnastics. Hollow Bones: One of the reasons why elfin are so fast is because of their hollow bones. This means they are lighter than their size would suggest but it also means they are less durable and strong than they look. In fact, humans are stronger and more durable than them. Sleep immunity:  Elfin can’t be put to sleep by any magical means, they can still be unconscious by other means. Spell Resistance: Elfin are immune to charm and illusion spells, and are resistance to other spells effects. Low Ferritin: Due very odd physical feature of the females elfin have low birth rates. You see their wombs when not pregnant will strangely detach from the rest of their reproductive system and slowly move deeper into their bodies and then descent to reattach. Only giving elfin a small window to breed before it detaches again. The oddest part is that the females have no nature way to tell when this window happens and for the longest time no one knew why elfin have this feature. But now this and many other mysteries of the elfin have been solve. They are also monotremes. Elfin Culture All elfin cultures come from the same source, the once mighty elf empire that cover countless worlds. Therefore, it isn’t surprising to learn that all of the many different elfin cultures share something in common. However, it’s important to note that the elfin about to enter a huge cultural revolution, no matter how much they may not want to, because of an amazing discovery from the days of the elf empire that answers so many questions of their past. But because this is still a very new development we will talk about it later under the elf part and for now only talk about what has been turn about all elfin culture for countless millennia. In Decline: The elf empire had who knows how many worlds under their control all under the command of their now destroy home world, but than a civil war broke out between two sides one known as the seelie and the unseelie. When it was over their empire was gone and the those that later became the elfin enter a dark age, this is why all elfin civilizations calm their people have been on a slow decline ever sense. This isn’t true however, as the elfin civilizations have been slowly one the raise ever sense their dark ages, even if they are nowhere near the level the elf empire was at but trying to point this out to elfin rarely works. This has cause many races to believe that the elfin are a bough of crybabies. Slow To Adapted: The greatest weakest of the elfin civilizations is how slow it takes them to adapt or just react to anything. This puts them at a huge disadvantage when dealing with sudden events, why they are so slow to do so while other long live or immortal races don’t seem to have this problem, to this degree anyway, was unknown for the longest time. Of course, now we have a good idea as to why they are like this now thanks to the big discovery but we will get to that later. Ancestor Worship: Regardless of what religions are found in their civilizations all elfin worship their ancestors the original elves. Of course, this doesn’t mean they are worship them the same and fact this one the biggest problems elfin face when working with one another. For you see each elfin race calm that they are the most like the elves in looks, culture, and magic, and the others elfin races are just inferior copies. This has also cause problems with studying the elves as the elfin rarely allow other races to do so and will ignore any evidence or theory that doesn’t fit their ideas of the immortal elves that was just like them in every way. Which is a view that is causing them trouble now that we know what the elves are really like. Hatred Of Goblinoids: All elfin civilizations have a deep seeded hatred of the goblinoids races, and when ask why the answer is normally that the goblinoids took advantage of them during the dark ages and they have been at war ever sense. Of course this may change now that it is known that the goblinoids are also descendants or may get worse, only time can tell. Music Lovers: It should be of no surprise that with their abilities that elfin have a strong love of music and that it plays a part in everything they do. In fact, all elfin are taught how to play no less than five different musical instruments as children. Low Opinion Of Others: Elfin think very highly of themselves and very lowly of others. Each elfin race see themselves as the perfect race, other elfin races as inferior copies, and all other races as less then that. In fact the only non-elfin race that they come closer to treating like another elfin race are the dwarves who could also be descendants of the elves, but they aren’t stupid. So, while they not like non-elfin they know must work and ally with them no matter how much they may not want to. This is without a doubt the main reason why elfin are not well like almost other races. Dairy Obsession: All elfin civilizations have a strange obsession with dairy products, in fact every one of their civilizations base their currency on a gallon whole milk. Why they are like this is unknown as dairy is no more nutritious to them as it is to humans nor are they addicted to it like some joke, they don’t suffer from lactose intolerant so that maybe part of the reason. Elves Elves were a mystery for countless millennial, it was known that they were advanced empire that had countless worlds under their rule and that they were one of the first if not the first humanoid races to travel the stars. However, that is almost all that is known about the for sure as everything else about said about came from the elfin and were mere theories, till it was found. While out exploring a group of adventurers found a whole world frozen in stasis, an elf world.  One dotted with cities and towns fill with elves ready to awaken, and when the adventurers saw this they knew what they must do. They track the source of the magic that kept the world stasis to some power artifact and destroy it, releasing the world an awakening the elves. Afterwards, the adventurers bravely walk out with their heads held high to be the first to see elves in millennial ready to see the elfin like beings and ready to meet the stories of the elfin in the flesh, they won’t ready to meet who they did. Elfin are not a very diverse in terms of looks, different color palettes mean different races which isn’t normally the case with other mystic races. They are however very diverse in terms of what magic they can use, so diverse in fact that most non-elfin believed that the elves must have been a general magic race for their descendants to be like this. So, the adventurers who free the elves were ready to meet beings who look and acted like modern elfin only to discover that this wasn’t what elves were like at all. Instead what they got were beings with elfin features, namely their ears, with scaly pastel color skin, spikey hair which was also pastel, snake like eyes, patches of body hair so thick they could only be call fur, arms as long and muscled as their legs ending with four digits hands and feet that were huge going by humans stands, and nails that were more like talons, and a mouth fill with strong fangs, and the women had pouches on their bellies to carry their young and eggs. And those are just the features all elves have they are far more diverse, just look at their colors and sizes for more. In the color department that come extremely wide array of pastel colors, patterns, and designs, and their size range are so diverse that adults’ height ranges from 30.48 cm(1ft) to 6.096m(20ft). Than there the fact of that some of them have extra parts in the forms of tails, wings, horns, antlers, antenna, spines, spikes, fins, feathers, and tentacles of all types and kinds, as well multiple copies of other body parts. This isn’t even counting how their abilities and culture differs. Biology Besides the ways already said elves differ from elfin in a few other ways, first being that they are legendary mystics and that the fact that unlike the elfin races, and most mystics for that matter, their race can use more than one type of magic. Bizarrely magic types to elves seem to work the similar to blood types for other races and there are elves for every type of magic, meaning that as whole the elf race can use all magic types. Beside this elves have almost all the same abilities as elfin except for iron allergy, hollow bones, and low ferritin (their wombs don’t detach), they also have the following abilities in addition to the elfin abilities. Super Strength: While elfin are weaker than humans this is definitely not the case for elves. When the elves were first awaken the adventurers who did it saw a human size elf grounded a solid cement block into dusk with one bare hand. How much stronger elves are to humans haven’t yet been able to determent.   Powerful Bite: Elves have fang fill jaws powerful enough to bite though steel beams, and we know this for a fact because elves eat steel beams. Immortal: Elves are immortal but not by nature, they have found a way to make themselves so. However this is so key in to their biology it doesn’t seem to work on other races. Manna Armor:  Elves generate a form of force field around their bodies that absorb most damage that is throw at elves, giving a form of damage reduction. However, it can only absorb so much damage at one time. Super Durability: Even without their manna armor elves very durable, one elf was able to take multiple shotgun blasts with no harm at all when their manna armor was down. It is of yet unknown just how durable they are. Metal And Rock Eater: As well as the things most humanoids eat elves also eat rocks and many different kind of metals. It is believe that this could be why they are so strong and durable. Elf Culture After getting over the elves physical appearance, and the fact they were all wearing kilts instead of pants and no shoes, the adventures their magical universal translator to hear the words of wisdom of the elves, and immediately thought they were broken. For the what they heard was a mix of unintelligible gibberish, some of the worst swears imaginable, and a mix of animalist noises in the form of roars, howls, growls, hisses, barks, and purrs. They later found that the elf language relines heavy on slang terms that are more confusing then cockney and animalist sounds, the swearing is just something they do, all the time. To that elves are rough around the edges are putting lightly, they are a strong will and independent people, who are surprisingly very open minded. In fact being music lovers and having an strange obsessing with dairy are the only things they have in common elfin culture. And being just free we are still learning about said culture but here are a few things we have learn about them. No Pants, Kilts Only: Elves seem to hate pants for some reason and will even use the term pant wearer as insult. Because of this they will only wear kilts unless they have no choice, beware they rarely wear underwear. Also, they don’t wear shoes often but don’t seem to hate it. Strong Will And Spoken: The elves are very strong will and even stronger spoken people. They don’t mix words and aren’t afraid to let others know what they think and feel. The Civil War: Before we start on we have learn from the elves about the civil war that destroyed their empire it is important to note that the elves awaken were all from one side, the unseelie, but there were some elves who defected from the seelie side to the unseelie side. According to the elves what cause the war was when the political party call the seelie took control of their government and stated their new plan to expand the empire. They wanted to clone elves in mass as part of a caste system they claim would expand their empire to all the reaches of the universe. Most of the elves were against this but the seelie had the authority and begin creating the clones anyway, that when the other elves started the unseelie for the sole purpose of stopping this. The war when on for many centuries, and how it ended is still unknown as it was still going when these elves were trap in stasis. The True Original Of The Elfin: Many of the elves that defected from the unseelie were clones. Clones with the same solid color eyes of the elfin and other elfin features that make them look like a missing link between them and them elves, because they were. It turns out all modern elfin are direct descendants of the clone elves and this explain many of their differences form the elves. The wandering womb they have were made to help control their numbers, their eyes were made to help tell them apart from the normal elves, their hollow bones were made to make them weaker than normal elves to keep them in line, many of modern elfin culture traits came from how the clone elves castes were use and train, and their iron allergy came about because there were only a few strains cloned in each caste and this came about to do inbreeding. The True Original Of The Goblinoids: It turns out that goblinoids are the degenerate descendants of elves who was exposed to bio, chemical, nuclear, and curse weapons use by the seelie during the war. There are some elves almost the unseelie who were expose to these things that can be use as proof of this, and the fact that goblinoids are everywhere today doesn’t speak to well to how the war ended. Elves Relations With Others The show time the elves have been back hasn’t allow them much time to get any form of relates almost today races, but they are trying and for the most part they seem to be going well. However, there are some races that elves have develop relates with that deserve to be talk about. With Dwarves: Surprisingly the elves seem to get along well with the dwarves for the most, this is partly do the fact that the elves claim that out of all their descendants the dwarves are the only ones who make a good drink. The dwarves on the other hand are another matter, for one despite the new genetic evidence proving that they are in fact descendants of the elves they refuse to believe it for both religion reasons and the fact they don’t like the idea of being related to the elfin and the goblinoids. Plus, the elves are still very new to them which isn’t something they like, but on the other hands the elves have powerful magic and advanced technology so getting on their good sides would be very profitable in the long run. Which is something the dwarves like very much. With Goblinoids: The elves have made it a mission to better the lives of their goblinoid descendants anyway they can, and the goblinoids so far have all responded well to this. No doubt because the elves have treated them with genuine respect, and kindness which isn’t something the goblinoids are used to from other races. So the two groups get along just fine and it seems this will only get better as time goes on. With Elfin: The elves relationship with the elfin is complicated to say the least, and is best sum up with the story of their first interaction with one another. When new got out of the elves awaken every single elfin civilization got together to welcome them in a massive diplomatic meeting with nothing less but their best there for both the official of welcoming back the ancestors and the unofficial to prove that their civilization was the true descendants of the elves and all other elfin civilizations were just pale imitations. The elves in turn send their best as well and after meeting everything diplomat from everything elfin civilization the head elf diplomat in front of all declare and I quote, “You’re all a bunch of pants wearing stuck up pansy gits who wouldn’t know a good time if it bites your faces off!” She then head butted every single adult elfin in the building into unconscious while stealing all the dairy and booze, this instantly made the elves will like by other races. The elfin however were unamused and most of their civilizations have gone on record of saying that these elves are not real elves but a bunch pretender that are living in the real elves old homes and are slandering the names of their ancestors. Some have every told the elves that if they don’t turn over their world to them, the real elves as they say, and don’t stop calling themselves elves then they will have no choice but to go to war with them, the elves in turn have just laugh and told them to bring it on. So far nothing have come of this due to the fact while the elfin are trying to denial it there is no doubt that these are the real elves, and there is doubt that elfin simply can’t work together well enough to beat the elves, who could easily crush them.